Red Rooms I Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

What you need

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"...,But you knew about this!" Ghost's voice was shaking, begging.

Begging for this to be nothing but a nightmare, one he could wake up from. He could not remember the last time that he got a full night's sleep in. Keeping his sleep-deprived eyes fixated on your back, you stood in front of the huge window wall of your loft.

He gathered all his remaining energy to not break in your presence right now. Crash a hole into the floor and fall down that very pit of no-return. He repeated his words, shaking his head in confusion.

"You knew about me-" sounded his growling voice before you sobbed and turned around eventually.

"I met someone else, Simon."

He looked at you standing in front of him with your arms crossed. Crying. You're the one that's fucking crying?

Your last sentence spun around his head, aching more and more with every passing second.

"Someone else?" He spat out through shivering lips.

"Someone that is there. Someone that can actually support me and is just..
," a sob broke your sentence and you took your time wiping the heavy streams of tears rolling down your cheek,"..., present! It's so fucking lonely, Simon! Raising twins like this, not knowing if you're ever going to return once you leave! It's been 6 fucking months! 6 months of not hearing from you, and they start asking questions! It pains me!"

"It pains you?!", he panted accompanied by a scoff rolling off his lips.

"Yes! And I'd rather have someone that is actually available by my side or no one at all! I've hit rock bottom, Simon! My limit! I can't do this anymore! I can't be with a literal Ghost!"

The lieutenants eyes pierced through you like thorns. The thickest thorns you have ever witnessed.

"Don't you understand?" you came crawling up to him after a long break of silence, begging for a crumb of empathy.

He couldn't give that to you. He saw the world burning. This was not a nightmare he could wake up from. This was just a nightmare.

"I cannot live with uncertainty anymore...I need something secure."

Ghost felt his heart burst in that very moment.

Years of doing everything in his power to keep you and the twins secure, even when he's gone on missions. You had purchased the loft next door together for more security. More space. Everything in this apartment complex was as fucking secure as it gets. You had a bodyguard. And now it was about that one thing he laid open for you right from the first day you two met? That one single thing he did not ever mask from you? His rank and the responsibilities he carries with it. Being gone a lot. Staring death right in face on a daily basis.

"Something secure, y/n..." he was too stunned to even form his own sentences at this point.

"Papa...?" a tiny hand slid through the glass door that was keeping you seperated from the rest of the loft. Followed by a messy set of dark curls covering some sleepy, hazel eyes.

You let out a silent "Fuck," turning back towards the window so your daughter does not see you crying.

Ghost picked up the confused toddler and fixed the little raccoon-covered pyjama she was wearing before stroking the curls out her eyes.

"Nightmare..." she mumbled, quickly hiding her face in his neck as the light in your bedroom was too bright for her sleepy eyes.

You're not the only one was the first thought that crossed his mind.

He placed a peck on her cheek, dark eyes still watching you.

Somebody had to fucking say something.

"...It's good that you came here then, hm? We don't like nightmares, do we?" he comforted her. The intimidating, deep growl of his just minutes before now nothing but a soothing purr.

Marla shook her head, the curls tickling his jawline as he stroked her back slightly.

"Why mummy crying...", the 3 year old was just as alert as her father.

Even though there was not much alertness needed with your sobs filling the room like that.

"Nightmares, little one..." he squeezed her closer, trying hard to keep his composure as it all grew unbearably tight.

"Cuddle..." she demanded next, turning to point at the empty king-size bed next to you.

"Why don't we go to the sofa, hm? Get your favourite book...," his breath hitched,

"..., let me read you something..." he continued softly. He could see you nervously tapping your foot on the floor. Tears dwelled up but he kept it all together; he had to.

"Okay..." she looked up at him and smiled. That very smile sending him off the edge.

"Why don't you go and get the book already, love..." he offered as he let her tiny body down, watching her tiny navy socks tap along the concrete floor.

"I'll get blankets, sounds about right?"

Her curls wiggled as she tapped through the huge apartment, disappearing around the corner to where her & Archy's area was.

Once you found yourselves wrapped back up in unbearable tension, he cleared his throat and got out the spare blanket from under your bed. You finally turned around and let out a faint thank you, not getting much of him in return.

Once you came closer the Brit shook his head.

"You do not get to talk to me about security, when all I ever did was to keep my family safe from harm."

He pulled the blanket over his shoulder and left to spread it out on the large sofa in the living area. You watched from a distance as the twins tip-toed through the darkness and climbed up the grey fabric to join him. Two tiny heads resting on each side of his huge body. The british, deep accent quietly reading their good night stories.