♡ ྀི˖ home comforts
Simon doesn't understand your home comfort, so when he lashes out about it you realise he needs to find his own comfort...
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x f!reader
wc: 1.2k
rating: pg
warnings: sad simon, he's miserable and mardy but he literally just needs a hug bless him
a/n: just a little thought I'd had at work x
Simon Riley has never understood the phrase ‘Home Comforts’ before, until he met you.
A sweet and bubbly recruit, always smiling and being kind despite being one of the most hardworking soldiers in the task force. A constant comfort to most people, sharing affection and little tokens from home. Simon always brushed it off and ignored you, until you were stationed on a mission together.
You were staying in a tent in the middle of now where, yet you bought your favourite tea bags, had a photo of your family in your pocket and secretly wore a pair of fluffy socks. He thought it was silly, but deep down he wished that he understood.
Over time, he began to notice the same behaviors of yours around the base. Bringing small tokens or items of comfort, finding love and nostalgia in little bits and pieces.
˚ ۪ ୨୧⊹.
Cut to a few months later, when the pair of you were sharing a hotel room for Price’s birthday weekend, he noticed it more. Gaz and Johnny had claimed a room, leaving you and Simon together, you didn't mind but he seemed hesitant.
You just smiled and unpacked your small suitcase for the weekend, pulling out a dressing gown to wear and your own fluffy socks. You curled up under the covers and reached for the blanket you bought with you and smiled up at Simon.
“Stop looking like that, I love my home comforts…” You murmured softly as he stood awkwardly in the corner of the room, empting the few items in his backpack.
Suit for the event. Pyjamas. Toothbrush. Jeans. Tshirt. Underwear. Socks. Shoes. Deodorant.
Nothing else.
He ignored you and shifted into the bathroom to change into his pyjamas. A pair of navy pyjamas bottoms and a matching button up shirt. It was similar to your own pink, silk button up set that smelled of your candles in your bedroom, your washing detergent and your favourite perfume. Reminders of home.
He walked back in and grabbed a pillow, and laid himself on the floor next to you. No blanket, no chatting, not cuddling, no laughing.
He just laid down on the floor like a dog.
“Si?” You murmured softly as you leant over the edge of the bed to look at him. Propped up on your elbow with an out of character frown on your face.
He just grunted and didn't move.
You leant down and gently ran your fingers over his clothed arm, over his covered tattoos and scars.
“Si…why are you on the floor?” you asked quietly before adding, “Do you want me to see if I can book another room so you can have the bed?”
“No…just go to sleep,” He grumbled, you huffed and draped your blanket over him as you shifted to the edge of the bed and gently rubbed his arm. He didn't pull away but he pushed the blanket away and huffed.
“Fuck off,” He muttered before sitting up to shove the blanket on your lap, scowling through his mask.
You scowled, a change from your usual softness, and pulled your blanket around you. “What's got your knickers in a twist, Simon Riley?” you questioned harshly, but no where near any way that could hurt his feelings.
He just sighed and gestured to you, tucked up in bed in your pretty pajamas, hair all soft and silky, a sleep mask on your head, with your favourite stuffed animal beside you.
You raised an eyebrow and murmured, “Si…what's wrong?” seeing how his gaze softened when he watched you in bed, your own gaze becoming sympathetic.
“This home comforts bollocks you always go on about…I don't understand it.” He grumbled, still sat on the floor with the pillow next to him.
You leant forward gently and eased up his mask, “It's just little things that remind me of home…my little house, near the sea…with my Ma and Pa down the road…my Grandma in the village…all the little things that make me feel warm…”
He sat there, now without his mask, and tears brimming in his eyes. He gently reached for the blanket and thumbed at the soft, fluffy texture.
“Si…come and lay with me…” You murmured softly as you shifted over to welcome him, gently draping the duvet and soft blanket over him. With a soft smile you found a comfortable spot next to him and held your stuffed animal.
He just stared tearfully and whispered, “I want it…that bollocks…all the comfort shite…” His arm brushed against yours, causing tingles to run up and down his clothed biceps.
You nodded softly and gently shifted closer, “You can share mine…we'll find you some home comforts, love…” Your side was close against his now, making him feel warm and almost relaxed.
You tenderly guided one of his hands to your stuffed animal as you rested on him and started to quietly hum. A song from your childhood, another little home comfort.
He relished in the sound of your singing as he rested his head on yours and petted the stuffed animal as quiet, secret tears spilled down his scarred and burned cheeks. The tears pooled in your silky tresses, creating a tender bond between you both.
You woke up the next morning to him nosing at your cheek in his sleep, clutching you and your stuffed animal close to him as he snored softly and drooled through the gap in his top lip that he was so scared to show others, that you realised was one of the things that made him so beautiful.
It was in that moment that you realised that maybe you could become his home comfort.
taglist: @arthur-morgans-wife @superunkn0wn (sorry the taglist didn't save originally!!)