Accidental Sugar Daddy
Simon “Ghost” Riley X AFAB Reader, Roommates
Read on ao3 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 11 || Join Tag List
Chapter 10, Day Two (and three)
⚠️ DISCLAIMER: All medical information, while researched for accuracy and to show details on recovery for a Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI), in addition to show/write character education and training, I am **NOT** a medical professional of any kind. ALWAYS TALK TO YOU DOCTOR FIRST TO DISCUSS HEALTH, MEDICINES, ETC.
‼️Warning: Discussion of medical symptoms, medication, and refusal to take pain relief medicine.
You were up every four hours to check on Simon and give him over-the-counter pain medicines, like Tylenol, per his discharge papers, until you could give him the prescribed NSAID for inflammation and pain relief.
Once the sky began to lighten, he started refusing pain medicine of all kinds. What the hell?!
He was sitting back on the couch, glaring up at you behind his mask. You were standing between his legs, holding the pill in your palm and a glass of water in the other. “Take the medicine, Riley,” you firmly commanded.
“No,” he sternly denied. Rolling your eyes, you sighed exasperatedly.
“Yer one stubborn sonva bitch, Riley,” you growled, revealing your old southern accent. You huffed, immediately turned, and walked away.
“Why ya callin’ meh ‘Riley’ all uh sudden?” He inquired, voice growly.
“Cause it pisses you off,” you hollered back from the kitchen. He rolled his eyes, picked up his glass of flat ginger ale tea, and sipped it.
You stood there facing the kitchen counter, staring at his prescription medicine bottles, having put his pain medicine back. Sighing heavily through your nose, you’re trying to figure out what the fuck was going on in his head. He hasn’t shown any signs of a concussion other than a headache last night. When you changed the bandage on his scalp, you saw he had a minor haircut with staples in his scalp. Must have been brain swelling and temporarily removed part of his skull. It made you wonder how long he had been in the hospital before coming home since brain swelling can last hours to days to even months before it goes down.
Do military hospitals do conservative treatment or whatever works the fastest? Probably situational.
You already feel like you’re failing Simon but you can’t force him to take anything.
Closing your eyes, images of you sitting in the hospital holding a little boy’s hand whose head is wrapped up and intubated.
“Fuck,” you gasped, literally shaking your head. Feeling tears trying to burn their way through. Took a few deep breaths to calm down.
“Ya okay?” Simon queried from inches away. You spun around, scowling at him. “What are you doing up?”
“Ya okay?” He asked again, almost hovering over you. It’s like you had forgotten how tall he was.
“I’m fine. You hungry?” You changed the topic with a small put-upon smile on your face. Simon could tell but said nothing.
“No’ really,” he admitted with a half-shrug.
“Want a smoke?” You sincerely questioned, doubting he’d had a smoke during the hospital.
“Gawd yes!” He practically exclaimed. You giggled. “Deck, please.” You point to the backdoor. Simon led the way and you stopped at his jacket, grabbing his cigarettes. That’s when you remember the gift you got him and run to your room grabbing the small gift box.
“Whe’uh ya goo, luv?” Simon called as you jogged from your room.
You shooed him outside and followed, closing the door. Simon carefully sat down at the little covered table with an ashtray in the middle you put there. You slid him his cigarettes and a small white box, advising, “Got you something.”
He slowly pulled up his balaclava uncovering his lips and nose, and stared at the box. While picking up with his uninjured hand, he held it out for you to open up. You obliged, revealing a black Zippo lighter with a white skull mask identical to his hard faceplate. His eye widened before looking up at you.
“Ya like? Figured this way anyone would know whose it is when you’re on base. It’s refillable too.” Taking it out, you flip it and show your tiny artistic signature on the back. “It’s my little artist signature. Not really identifiable but that way you won’t ever forget me,” you tried to sound like you were teasing to get out of the seriousness of the conversation and stuck your tongue out at him for good measure. Simon tried to grin, set the box down, took the lighter, and brought it close to his good eye. “I neveh forge’ ya, luv.”
You look down, feeling your face heat up a bit before grabbing the cigarette box. Ignoring it, you get one out and hold it up for Simon. He flips the Zippo open and sparks the lighter seeing it aflame. He holds it up, lighting it. Quickly, you bring it to your lips, inhaling a few times before handing it to him. Exhaling what little smoke you inhaled, you watched him close his eyes, deeply inhale, and hold the smoke in his lungs.
“For the record, your imported fags smell good. Not only smell good but they somehow enhance your own scent,” you observed, keeping a straight face. He tilted his head, staring at you and exhaling at you. “Aren’t you a cheeky fucker.”
You giggled and grinned wide, sticking your tongue out at him. “I’m a sassy bitch. What else is new?”
Simon doesn’t respond but seems to be staring at you. You look at him, only to realize he’s looking behind you. Turning, you look over your shoulder. “Like it?”
“Pictures don’ do t’justice, luv. It’s gorgeous.”
You looked down at the table and gave a restrained smile, feeling your cheeks warm rapidly. You can even feel your ears warm.
Simon watched you as he smoked. He loved seeing your blush. It makes your freckles pop. He wanted to touch and kiss each one, count them across your body. He wonders how far your blush travels—Fuck, the boyfriend, he remembered and mentally groaned.
The moment he read you had a boyfriend, he became ‘a downright grump’ for days, according to Soap. Inhaling deeply and exhaling before taking the last inhale of the cigarette. He pushes it away for now. “Ya should see eev any uhv veh neighbors wan ya t’do veir yard.” He grabbed his pack of cigarettes after stubbing out one he had in the ashtray.
“I just finished almost two weeks ago. I’m taking a break. It’s a lot of physical and mental work,” you advised and reminded. “Besides, right now I’m taking care of you. I don’t want to do anything until you’re doing much better.” He scoffs. “I ain’t doin’ vat bad.”
You leveled a look at him. “Simon, you have a brain injury, sweetie; they did a craniotomy to prevent pressure developing on your brain. It was so swollen. They probably created a pocket on your upper abdomen to keep the bone alive while your brain healed,” you explained, eyes squinted and lips frowned as you tried to make him understand the severity. “You had a constant headache for hours last night that only the pain meds helped and you now refuse them because why?” You lean forward. “They don’t work well? Don’t you like how the meds make you feel? It’s Tylenol. It’s over the counter. What? Just don’t like taking meds?” You paused before adding sternly, “Don’t you dare believe you deserve this pain? No one does. I would know.”
Simon looked behind you in silence to your question and offered answers. You rest both your hands on his good forearm. “Whatever the reason is, Simon.” He slowly met your gaze. “Your injury isn’t a punishment. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He scoffs, looking away. “Whatever you’re thinking right now, Simon Riley. You’re wrong,” you rationalize with conviction.
“Ya don’ know wot ‘appened. Stop actin’ leek ya dew.”
You stood up so fast the seat nearly fell over as you walked back inside, closing the door behind you. Simon thought you stopped away at his words, making his chest ache. Thinking he hurt you.
Meanwhile, you were looking around for the paperwork Captain Price gave you, you took your notebook and the paperwork. Took it back outside and made sure to sit back next to Simon, practically throwing it at him. His eye widened at your return and his eyebrow furrowed at the notebook.
“Read it,” you demanded. “I have notes on everything. I have what your paperwork said and what your mates said. Go ahead. Read it.” Crossing your arms and leaning back in the seat, waiting.
Simon opened up the notebook and skimmed over the discharge paperwork. He saw your notes about the approximate times he took medication at the hospital, according to Kyle. In addition to food, he’d been able to keep in. He ignored all the instructions and moved on to the notebook. The first page is a title page making him smile with a small snort. You ignored him. He flipped to see a table of contents you started on. He flips a few more pages before seeing ‘Day One’ notes—
————————📒
Day One
Cause of injury per witness
Capt —
In the Humvee, he was driving with Ghost up front with him as they headed to exfil when Ghost suddenly grabbed the steering wheel and attempted to force the vehicle to swerve unsuccessfully. The passenger front tire went over an IED and activated with Simon getting the brunt of the force and injury. Gaz and Soap were thrown from the vehicle only getting scrapes and bruises. Because of Ghost’s body position, he essentially received injury for two people since his body took the majority of the blast. Price only had a few cracked ribs and a bump on the head. Everyone else had minor injuries except for Ghost.
Soap—
He corroborated Capt’s story from his perspective. He did not see the IED. He was talking to Gaz in the backseat and felt the vehicle swerve before he found himself on the ground in the dust, sore and aching. Gaz was stated to be feeling the same as him—sore and aching. He stated they both got up and went to find Price and Ghost. They found Ghost on Price, a few feet away from the Humvee. He saw the front passenger side blown to smithereens. He was scared that Ghost was dead but he should have known better. He and Gaz started doing typical medic checks. Price cracked a few ribs since (the concussive blast) Ghost was pushed into Price (his perspective and assumption from positions found). Ghost was unconscious for days and they kept scanning his head. The right side of his face, shoulder, and part of his chest were all black, not even blue or purple. Just black. He had to have some kind of brain surgery and was in the ICU the rest of the time. When his brain got better, they did surgery again and it took him a while to wake up on his own. It was weeks before they finally let him leave. That’s when Price called Ralph and they’re where they are now.
Gaz—
He corroborated both stories; however, he advised that Ghost was only found partially on Price. (That explains his cracked ribs.) He also stated that Ghost didn’t wake up until after the first surgery which was within 24 hours of the accident. He was unconscious due to brain swelling and the doctors were worried about permanent damage. Once he woke up, they waited a few days to see how he was recovering and redid scans. It was like a week (5-6 days est) before they did the second operation. He still has a TBI. The medicines are to help with pain, inflammation, speed up recovery from the TBI/Concussion, and aid with any possible symptoms for mental health and mood. He said to call him if I have any issues with Simon and his medicine arises.
Approx hospital time: 1-2 weeks.
Medicines—
Amandatine 100mg 2/day (200mg)— improve pace of functional recovery
Busprione 10mg 2/day (20mg) — anxiety or similar symptoms (cut into 1/4s of ~2.5mg each to allow up to 20mg/day PRN)
Modafinil 100mg (100 1st week, 200 onward) 2 in morn — alertness, dopamine, anti-fatigue
Celexa 20mg daily in morn (20mg) — Depression and anxiety (monitor symptoms)
Gabapentin 300mg 2/day (600mg) — nerve pain
Prazosin 1mg (up to 5mg) per night (1-5mg) — ptsd nightmares, headaches, recovery
Melatonin 1mg (up to 10mg) per night (1-10mg) — falling asleep (monitor tolerance and wakefulness in the night and next morn)
Tylenol 1000mg/4-6hrs PRN for pain (need fluid to flush kidneys)
Tramadol 50mg/ 8hrs —PRN pain
RIGHT SIDE INJURY—
Recovery symptoms of TBI/Severe concussion
Physical: Headaches, dizziness/vertigo, nausea, fatigue, insomnia, hypersomnia
Sensory: blurry vision, tinnitus, sensitivity to bright light and loud sounds
Cognitive: Brain fog, difficulty concentrating, Memory problems
Emotional: decreased frustration tolerance, depression, anxiety, mood fluctuations, emotional volatility
Recovery symptoms of torn rotator cuff (4-6mo recovery)
Pain, soreness, stiffness, inflammation, clicking/clacking, limited range of motion,
Probably need to do STR PT
Recovery symptoms of closed proximal fractured humerus, and closed fractured and dislocated ulna (possible torn ligament) bones
Fractured humerus (6-12 weeks)
Pain, swelling, bruising, stiffness, muscle weakness, grinding/clicking,
Closed distal fractured and dislocated ulna [possible torn ligament] (3-6+ mo, complex)
Muscle weakness, swelling, stiffness
Unusable, no weight until approved by doctor PERIOD!!
Probably need PT, up to 2 years for full strength and flexibility to return
After 6mo may return to work but may have restrictions
Recovery symptoms for large area, severe (black & blue) bruising (RICE; 3-6+ weeks)
Pain, soreness, stiffness, inflammation, limited mobility (distance and/or weight)
Rest, ice, compression, elevation!!
When to take to hospital—
Fever 100.4 F/37 C or higher
Numbness, tingling, blue or grey (maybe purple?) fingernails or skin
Hands feel cold and shouldn’t
Sling feels tight even after adjustment (means new inflammation/swelling)
Increased pain in injuries or new bruising elsewhere
Note: Review discharge instructions for medicine times and instructions during Day One.
Call number in FIVE DAYS to set up a doctor appointment/schedule.
Home visits available?
Home PT available?
It is okay! He is home! He is safe! YOU ARE A LICENSED PARAMEDIC!! You got this!! All else fails, get Ralph. lol!
Should I bring my license with me to the Dr appt?
Text Sebastian about Simon being home and the situation (or did Ralph do that and I forgot?)
Sebastian and Simon need to meet (get along?)
————————-📒
As Simon read, you watched his face. You also didn’t think about all the comments and reminders you had put in the notebook. Determined to prove him wrong that you know what’s going on and how to do this shit.
“Ya sure ya not military?” He teased, smirking.
“I thought about it but it was hard for me as a teen to lose weight so I didn’t go,” you admitted. His brows furrowed, leaning back and looking at you with a quirked brow.
“I’m an on-call paramedic for the volunteer county fire department. I’m required to maintain the ability to deadlift 100-150 pounds in confined spaces. I have much more muscle than I used to as a teenager. I was much thicc-er then. I jog 2 miles like three or four times a week. When I get tired, I do a brisk walk as recommended to maintain endurance per my training,” you explained further.
“Ya a paramedic?” His eye were wide and his eyebrow raised as much as he could without pain. You grinned and nodded. “Yeah, have been this whole time. I’m on-call only, so when there is a major accident or multiple people injured, I’m called to the site; otherwise, I just do what I need to do to maintain my license.”
Simon stared at you. “I’ve never seen ya doo any’ing uhv vis,” he pointed out.
You laugh at his words. “The landscaping project worked as a means to maintain endurance and some strength so I didn’t need to jog or walk. I checked with the Fire Chief. Besides, you’re not home often and I like hanging out with you. I’d rather have to push myself to get back where I need to be than miss out on spending time with you when you’re here.”
Simon felt warm and almost gooey inside when you said home. Knowing you view his home as your home just did something to him. Suddenly, he wondered where your boyfriend was, not that he wanted to meet or talk about him. He knew he was going to have to, knowing you.
Yawning, your eyes fluttered for a few seconds as you pushed through the tiredness. “Hey, let’s go inside. You’ve been out here too long anyway. Need to get that leg up and you need to rest.” You pushed the seat out and stood up, stretching.
Simon watched you as you moved and noticed your shirt rising up. It was the first time he had noticed the stretch marks on your abdomen. He liked them. They reminded him of tiger stripes which suited you. He grabbed the notebook and papers, following you inside.
An hour later, your medicine alarm went off and you tried again. Simon took it without hesitation. You thanked him and smiled. He rolled his eyes and waved his hand at you to drop it. You turned and went into the fridge to grab a brownie you made as a reward. You didn’t say that but why not?
“Ooo, browneh,” his voice deepened as he spoke and his eye widened happily. He didn’t question why you gave it to him and ate it with periodic happy hums.
While he was licking his fingertips, you turned away from feeling your face warm. “Dude, next time I give you a treat, I’m leaving the room. It’s like you had sex with it. Oh my god. I get foodgasms but,” you shook your head and you flipped through the TV channel guide.
Simon grinned widely, his teeth somewhat brown from the brownie. “I jus’ wan’ed t’make soor ya knew ‘ow good t’was.”
You glanced at him and deadpanned, “I know how good they are. I made them.” You chose one of the RDJ Sherlock Holmes movies.
“Ya do know I’m from U K, dontcha luv?” He teased before, with your help, switched positions to lay his head in your lap.
You looked down and ignored his teasing. “This would be more comfortable without the mask, ya know.” He turned and looked up at you. “Go ahead.”
Carefully, you slip your fingers under the balaclava and gingerly pull it over his face. He lifts his head a bit and you pull it out from behind. The bandage looks good, with no drainage or blood seeping through. You laid the mask down on his chest and scratched what you could touch on the uninjured side of his head. You looked down at him. “I need you to get better,” your tone suddenly going serious. You don’t know why but the words just tumbled out on their own. “When Ralph told me, it scared me.” Simon took your hand in his. “I’m sorry. Didn’ mean ta.”
“I know. I also understand that you’re like on some kind of special ops thing where y’all do all sorts of dangerous shit. It’s part of the job but this.” You wave your hand down his injured side. “Is not what I meant by staying functional,” you teased. He huffs a chuckle before squeezing your hand. “I’m still he’e.”
“And a lot can still go wrong, Simon.” You cup his uninjured cheek with your free hand. “You’re considered to have a highly complex injury because there are multiple injuries and a traumatic brain injury on top of that. The giant area of bruising alone probably made them hesitate to send you home. They probably did multiple full-body scans with and without contrast to confirm it was only bruising and not internal bleeding.”
Simon watched your face as you spoke. Brows furrowed, lips frowning, and your pupils receded to pinpoints as you spoke. He knew by your words that there was more to your past that made you so afraid of him getting injured. “Vey did do a lot uhv scans. Wouldn’ ‘ave been sent ‘ome if it wasn’ okay t’be home, luvie.”
Your hand returned to scratch and play with his hair. “Doctors are human, even military ones. They can make mistakes. You have to talk to me if anything and I mean anything feels strange or changes either in feeling or look. You gotta promise me, Simon.”
He squeezed your hand as he promised, “I promise.” He kissed your knuckles, repeating “I promise” after each kiss. You grinned, face heating up, and eyes softened at his affection. “Simon.”
“Wot? I can’ be a’ectionate wiv me friend and flat’ma’e.” You give him a knowing look, pointing out this is more than that. “We don’t have a normal friendship, do we?”
“Considerin’ ‘ow I met ya, probably not.”
You grinned and giggled. “You helped a lot more that night than you probably know.”
“I’m glad I met ‘n know ya,” Simon freely admitted. You leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Me too. Me too.”
The next day, you saw a day-old text from Sebastian and instantly felt guilty. You looked to the bathroom, knowing Simon was doing his morning routine, modified. You knew you were emotionally cheating on Sebastian with Simon, or maybe, it was really the other way around. Could you not know you and Simon are actually dating?
That’s so stupid. Fuck my life. Wait, I texted him about Sebastian but he didn’t reply. He said he read my texts so he knows.
You’re getting tired of the ‘man pushing the woman into sex’ issue. You need to confront him at least on the phone and not by text.
Opening Sebastian’s text: Morning, beautiful. How are you?
You smile and reply: I’m okay. A bit tired since I’m taking care of Simon due to his complex injury. Making sure he takes meds on time and eats and whatnot. Mother henning, basically.
Sebastian ❤️: Ralph told me he came home and was really hurt. That you might be hard to reach and not drop by since he got injured during active duty.
You sigh relieved that she talked to him.
You: That pretty much sums it up. 😘
Sebastian ❤️: you taking care of yourself too?
You grin widely.
You: Yes, I have a schedule for meds, food, rest/naps, and being outside. I follow it too. It’s adapted to my own typical schedule. With Simon’s limited mobility, he won’t be comfortable leaving the house for weeks. I know he won’t use any assistance other than a person. Might be able to convince him in a month or so but that’s hit or miss.
Sebastian ❤️: 🫂 Sounds like a lot. Need any help? Is Ralph helping you?
You: Well, taking care of someone with a TBI and multiple physical injuries, can be overwhelming, but with my paramedic training, I’m good. I’m more worried about his health from being stuck at home and the TBI. The physical injuries, unless he falls or gets hurt again, should heal fine…unless something was missed. Probably need PT. Doesn’t mean I’m not worried but nowhere near as much as I am about his mind. He’s highly intelligent and a lieutenant. He needs a lot more to do than watch TV and read.
Sebastian ❤️: We were talking about getting a few games to play. Maybe you can do that too? I’m happy to get a few and bring them over. You can introduce me and we can get to know each other over a game or two.
You stare at his message and pout. You have no idea if Simon is competitive or not. Sebastian was, which is why you will only play cooperative games with him.
You: I’m sorry but no. It’ll be a while before he can even handle being up more than a couple of hours.
Sebastian ❤️: I didn’t think about that. Didn’t realize it could be that way. I’m up for trying to video chat. I miss you, baby doll. What’s a TBI?
You glare at his text and roll your eyes before replying.
You: Traumatic Brain Injury. A concussion is a TBI, usually mild but this isn’t.
Meanwhile, Simon came out of his ensuite bathroom, leaving the door open, in a new set of comfortable clothes—soft white socks, blue and white plaid pajama pants, and a black T-shirt. His arm is not in its sling, so he walks over to you, watching your face, to get help putting it back on.
“Hey, birdie,” he called.
You looked up from your phone and smiled brightly at him. “Hey. Feeling good?” You looked him over, top to bottom and back again. “You look like you feel better.”
“I do.” He held out the sling and his injured arm.
“Told you I made it to where you could shower,” you pointed out again.
“Vat was—“
“Shower chairs do take a bit to get used to but does help with mobility issues.” Your phone vibrated in your hand, so you looked down, frowning. “Hang on and I’ll help you with the sling.”
Sebastian ❤️: Are you safe to take care of him? I mean he’s huge and very military from the pics I’ve seen.
Your face fell and glared at your phone again.
“Everyvin’ okay?” He inquired and carefully sat down next to you, looking at your phone screen.
“Yeah,” you deadpan while typing into your cell:
You: Really?! If you’re questioning my judgment of character, look in the mirror. 🙄
You set the phone down and scoff. “I’m fucking tired of him second-guessing me, like my judgement or gut is wrong. I mean a romantic relationship. There’s gonna be ups and downs. Even if he yells or calls a bunch, people deal with their anxieties differently. I can’t really—”
“‘E shouldn’ be yellin’ at ya,” Simon tried to sound matter-of-factly but came out slightly growly.
“I’m aware but everyone has anxieties and fears that trigger a stress response. It’s normal. No, it isn’t always healthy but it happens. It takes time for any relationship to get its kinks out, for people to understand triggers, standards, expectations, and boundaries.. It’s only been a few months,” you explained matter-of-factly.
Simon turned toward you as you spoke “We didn’,” he pointed out.
You opened your mouth before closing it. Pressing your lips thin before finally pointing out, “You and me aren’t in a romantic relationship, Simon.” You stood up and grabbed the sling.
“We could be,” he quietly commented. You froze for a few moments as Simon held his arm in the position for you. Carefully, you put it back on him. Pretending you didn’t hear him. Once it was secure, you two looked at each other.
Both of you thought the same thing in that moment: what the fuck am I doing?
Simon held up his mask as you looked around. Taking it from him, you rolled it up like before; gingerly rolling it down over his head and face before tucking it under his shirt. The compression was helping with pain.
That reminded you of all the stuff Simon sent you. You think he sent you. You asked, “Hey, why did you buy all that stuff? The books and whatnot?”
Simon’s eyes remained on you. “Why not? Did ya not leek any uhv-em?”
“No, no, it was wonderful. I love all of it. Thank you so so much.” You paused, fiddling with his shirt sleeve and the sling. “It’s just a lot of money.”
“If I want t’bouy ya vings, I’m goin’ ta,” he stated firmly.
Your face warmed at his words. “Okay, fine.” Simon half smirked. You added, “Just realize we have a finite amount of space in this house.” He followed your eyes and looked around. He saw another bookshelf was needed. He’d just make you one, but being injured, he’ll have to settle for buying a good one. He pulled out his phone with his good hand and began looking around online. You rolled your eyes and headed into the kitchen to figure out lunch.
〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️
Simon “Ghost” Riley X Reader Subscribers:
@vitalliver @141bean @Abby—-Wright @maria300806 @bunnysdaydreams @gracefulackerman @laurence-simps-for-ghost
