readwritealldayallnight

[readwritealldayallnight]

Part seven of ‘Bird Watching’ aka hot construction worker Simon x single mom reader

The fight happens on a day like any other, a random Tuesday in early March

Stepping outside as you clutch your baby close to your chest, you’d almost expected to find the earth to have stopped spinning, to see birds dropping dead to the ground midflight, for dogs to bark incessantly at seemingly nothing at all, hell maybe even for the sun to have disappeared from the sky entirely

But no, everything was still the same, the world went on, the earth kept spinning, and life continued, even in spite of that heavy feeling in your chest telling you that nothing would ever be the same again, not when your world had just seemingly slipped out from under you

What else were you to think after learning what you’d just been told?

You’d sat in that office for far too long, the bright murals on the walls more obnoxious than ever, smiling paintings of woodland creatures mocking you with every second that ticked by, your mind unable to wrap itself around the words being thrown at you, seeing as they were so contrary to everything you knew, so opposite to the man you’d come love

“I’m sorry but- I think you’re wrong. There’s- there’s got to be more to this that I’m not understanding. It doesn’t- this doesn’t make any sense.” You’d mumbled, staring into space as though caught in a daze, certain you’d wake up from this dream sooner than later and laugh about it in the morning, though with every pitiful look the assistant director sent your way, you were worried this was one nightmare you wouldn’t be able to pinch yourself out of

“Hon, I really wish I was wrong too.” She said, rubbing what you’re sure she intended to be a soothing hand across your back, though everything felt too hot right now, too claustrophobic, and you were resisting the urge to flinch from her touch.

“You must be.” You practically whispered to yourself. It had been at least twenty minutes of this now, going back and forth in disbelief despite the paper trail before you

“What about that small chance that I’m not, though? What if this is what’s happening?” She added, pulling her hand back and angling herself to better face you, her expression still pinched into that look of pity and concern you wanted to smack off of her, despite knowing she was speaking with the best of intentions

“What? That he’s trying to trap me?! Has been from the beginning? There’s no way, nuh-uh.” You shook your head adamantly, refusing to believe that there was any possibility of something so ludicrous being true, of being your reality, your life

“Please just- just hear me out?” She all but pleaded, glancing towards the closed door as you heard the sound of laughter echoing down the hall, parents still filtering in and out, picking up their children like any other day, unaware of the drama unfolding in the office. “We always thought it was kind of strange at first that he wasn’t listed on her birth certificate when you submitted it with all your other paper work but- we really didn’t give it much more thought. Really didn’t think twice when he added himself to the list of contacts after you hadn’t put him down, because he told us you’d just forgotten to. I mean from the moment he walked in here he’s always called himself your husband, and you his wife, always claimed to be Rosie’s dad.”

At this point your eyes are squeezed shut, unable to differentiate between what you’re hearing and what you know to be true in your heart. Or at least, what your heart desperately wants to believe is true- your confidence slipping with every word she speaks

“And when he insisted a few months ago that 75% of Rosie’s daycare fees be charged directly to his account, we-”

“What?” You all but hiss at her, eyes snapping open in shock

“So you didn’t know about that either.” She mumbles, cheeks reddening in apparent embarrassment, whether for your or herself you’re unsure, though you’re certain you’re starting to see red the longer you sit here. “I mean, is it even all that surprising at this point? You just got done telling me he’s been trying to have you financially depend on him from the get go.”

“I said he’d offered to help me with the bills when we first started dating. Not that he tried to entrap me!” You bite back, unable to feel sorry yet that you’re being so short with her when this isn’t her fault, right now you need someone to be upset with, someone to take your feelings out on, and unfortunately she happens to be the unlucky messenger caught in the crossfire.

“I’m sure that’s how he made it sound, but hon, I’m just seeing red flag after red flag here. It starts with small ‘favours’ like that, then he’s telling you that you don’t have to work anymore, that you can rely on him. And asking you to move in so soon-”

“It- it isn’t ‘so soon’. We’re already practically living together, we- we’re in love. This- this isn’t- I don’t-” you cut off yourself off, unsure what you’d even say at this point. You can feel a headache coming on, your mind running a mile a minute, you wouldn’t be surprised to find steam coming off of you you’re feeling so heated. You’re beyond confused now, your heart knows that Simon’s never led you astray before, never give you a single reason to doubt him or think of him as dishonest. But you can’t ignore what you’re hearing either, as contrary as it might be to what you’ve known to be true, the facts are set out before you

“I know you love him.” She says softer this time, eyes trying to convey a comfort you don’t want right now. “But I can’t lie, I’m worried now. Like you said, this could all be some very strange misunderstanding. But from where I’m sitting babe, it seems like he’s been lying to you for months now, if not from the start. And the only reasons I can think of him doing that, aren’t very good ones.”

“I just don’t-” Your words are cut off when a knock rasps against the office door, both of you glancing over in time to see the door open.

“Hey Emma, Rosie’s mum hasn’t picked her up yet and I have to clean the room- oh! There you are!” One of Rosie’s educators says, stepping into the room with none other than your baby sat against her hip

You can feel the tension momentarily leave your body as Rosie spots you, her neutral expression turning into one of pure joy as she realizes her mama’s here, tiny arms reaching out towards you as she starts to flail in her teacher’s arms, sweet little coos erupting from her as she all but tries to leap towards you

“We were just chatting. Sorry to have kept you waiting with her. Hope she wasn’t too much trouble.” You say, standing from your chair and taking Rosie into your arms, feeling her lay her little head against you as she makes herself comfortable in your hold, a comfort you desperately need yourself right now

“Her? Trouble? Never. She had a great day today.” The teacher smiles politely, excusing herself to likely go finish her closing duties, certainly eager to get out of here now that you’ve got Rosie off her hands

“Maybe we could-”

“I’m gonna get this one home.” You cut Emma off before she can start, readjusting your hold on Rosie as you take a steadying breath. You want nothing more than to get out of here, to pretend that this never happened, though you aren’t sure you’re ready yet for what’s certainly about to happen at home. “Thanks for the chat. I’ll think about what you said and- I’ve got some talking to do with Simon now, I suppose.”

Perhaps by some small miracle, Simon ends up having to work late that night, shooting you a text to let you know that he’s sorry he won’t be home for supper and to please give Rosie a goodnight kiss from him if he isn’t back by her bedtime

You don’t reply to his message

You feel numb, as though this were something that was happening to someone else, a story you might overhear people whispering about while in line at the grocery store, or even an all too cheesy reality TV show storyline, certainly not something that’s happening in your home, to your family

You feel akin to a ghost, a spectre simply going through the motions as you float through the flat, following Rosie’s bedtime routine with nothing more than muscle memory to guide you from step A to B

She’s nodding off in your arms before you know it, blissfully unaware as to the turmoil happening in her mum’s mind, the fight that’s likely to ensue when her dad comes home, none the wiser as you lay her down in her crib for the night, a soft kiss planted on her forehead for Simon’s sake because as conflicted as you are, his love for her is undeniable

If anything, that’s the very thing that has you feeling so confused right now, is because you know Simon loves you, both you and Rosie, and so everything that’s just been revealed to you is so utterly contradicatory you can’t even begin to try and wrap your brain around it

He’s never been anything short of wonderful to you, willing to bend over backwards to make you smile from the very moment you met

The Simon you know wouldn’t lie to you, wouldn’t hide things from you, wouldn’t try to entrap you in any way like Emma or anyone else might try to insinuate

And yet…

Shutting her door quietly, you make your way down the hall, glancing at the piles of boxes that have only recently made a home for themselves along the walls of your flat

Moving boxes, the majority of them being from Simon’s own place across town that he hasn’t been to in months, as you prepare to move into the new house in the upcoming weeks

A house that you love, a house that you dreamt about, a house you can picture becoming a home, and yet still, a house he bought without asking you first, apparently a common trend

Plopping yourself down on the couch, rubbing furiously at your tired eyes as you try in vain to make sense of this conflicting situation

Because the Simon you know, isn’t capable of lying to you

The Simon you know has never once failed to fulfill a promise to you, never ceases to exceed your wildest dreams and expectations time and time again, always coming through for you in every way you’ve ever wanted and never knew you needed

The Simon you know is one who works harder than anyone you’ve ever met before, but didn’t hesitate for a split second to drop everything when Rosie had her first runny nose, fussing over her incessantly until you were both sure it was nothing more than a case of the sniffles

The Simon you know never lets you go through a late night feeding alone, getting up out of bed with you every single time her cries reach your ears, or sometimes insisting you stay asleep while he either goes to retrieve her for you or feeds her a premade bottle himself

The Simon you know doesn’t complain when the kitchen sink springs a leak after he’s had a long day at work, but rather angles Rosie’s high chair so she can see him working as he talks her through every step of the repair, teasing her about starting to pull her weight around he house as she giggles

The Simon you know pretends to grumble when you insist on applying sunscreen to his face on particularly sunny days, but secretly loves every second you spend so close him, fingers tracing his skin and taking care of him as delicately as you would with Rosie

The Simon you know shamelessly carries the diaper bag over his shoulder wherever you go, proudly wears Rosie on his chest in the baby sling any chance he gets, and most of all, never fails to hold your heart in his hand no matter how full they may already be

Tonight however? You can’t help the way your heart seemingly drops when you hear the telltale sound of keys at the front door

Simon is home

“Birdie?” His deep, Manchester accent calls out from around the corner. You’re hardly in control of your body as you rise to your feet and all but float towards him, torn between needing his comfort during such a confusing time, but equally fighting off the hurt and skepticism you’re beginning to feel

“Hi Si.” You meekly respond, coming into his view just as he’s toeing off his mud-caked boots, his eyes lighting up once he sees you

“Hi love.” He replies, stepping closer until you’re within his reach, naturally falling against his chest as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, your eyes closing as you breathe in his scent. “Rosie asleep yet?”

“Put her down just a couple minutes ago.” You answer, arms snaking around his torso to embrace him tightly, unable to deny the hot tears beginning to prickle at the corner of your eyes.

“M’sorry I missed bedtime.”

“S’alright. Gave her your good night kiss for you. And I saved you supper. Just some chicken and salad but-”

“‘Jus’ chicken and salad’ is already more than I deserve for coming home late to my girls. Thank you, birdie.”

You know your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes when he pulls back to look at you, pulling yourself out of his hold to head towards the kitchen, his footsteps right behind yours

“How was your day? Not workin’ you too hard are they?” He asks, opening the fridge and pulling out the plate you’d saved for him

“No, work was fine.” You answer, awkwardly rubbing your arms as you lean against the wall, poking the edge of one of his moving boxes labeled simply as ‘stuff’ with your socked toes. “Actually, my day got kind of weird towards the end, if I’m being honest.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Simon asks you, peering at you over his shoulder as he gets ready to reheat his food

“Well I uh- I went to pick up Rosie from nursery and wound up talking to Emma. You know, the assistant director?”

If you didn’t know Simon so well, didn’t know his mind and his body language like the back of your hand by now, you might have missed the oh so subtle way he tensed up for no more than a split second, his large frame perfectly still as he held his breath for no longer than a blink of the eye, but you saw it

“‘Course. How is she?” He asks as casually as he can, though he pointedly isn’t meeting your gaze anymore

“She’s fine. Busy as usual. But anyways, I got chatting with her in the first place because I was just letting her know about the move soon. Wanted to update our address.” You add, waving a hand towards the many boxes dotted around the place

“Ah, right. Smart o’ you to get a head start on tha’.” Simon chides in, still not looking at you as he goes about grabbing himself silverware and a drink, keeping his head down the whole time

“I thought so too.” You say, pushing yourself off the wall to step closer to him, feeling your heart begin to pick up pace as dare to say what you’re too afraid to confirm. “Also figured I would go ahead and update Rosie’s contact information, while I was at it. Was well overdue adding you.”

At this point Simon has stopped moving entirely, his back turned to you as he faces the kitchen sink, not a word to be said as you continue

“But then she told me that you were already on there.”

Nearly a full five seconds pass by in complete and utter silence, before Simon slowly spins himself around to face you

“Oh.” Is all he can apparently manage to say at first, his face pulled into an expression you aren’t overly familiar with, eyes glancing everywhere but at your face. “Did you somehow add me and forget?”

“That’s what I thought at first too.” You elaborate, wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt, despite knowing that there isn’t a logical explanation for the second half of what you’re about to say. “But it was strange because she told me that she remembers having a conversation with you, after our first visit. Said that you were the one to add yourself.”

Again, Simon seems to forfeit to what he knows best in moments of high stress, a painful silence that echoes louder than any shouts ever could

“Things got really strange though, the more she told me. Like how you’ve been paying the daycare bills behind my back.”

“Love, I-”

“What was she talking about, Simon? Please tell me she was wrong.” You interrupt him, feeling your cheeks begins to burn with untamed emotions you haven’t dared to let out yet, the stinging at your lash line growing stronger as hot tears threaten to topple over

“No. She wasn’t wrong, but-”

“What?” You interrupt him, trying your best to keep your volume low for Rosie’s sake, though you can tell your emotions are already starting to get the better of you

“Look birdie, I- I’m not ready to talk about this yet. Let’s leave it alone for tonight, yeah?” Simon says as coolly as he can manage, though you notice the way his jaw ticks, how he runs his hand through his short hair as he only does when frustrated

“What the hell does that mean? You’re not ready to talk about what? Simon what is going on here?” You ask him, feeling yourself becoming light headed as the conversation takes the turn you were fearing it would, his words failing to reassure the uncertainty brewing within you

“Love it’s not- there isn’t anythin’ going on. I’m only jus’ trying to take care of you. So please, let’s just leave it.”

“No, Si. I can’t just ‘leave it’. Not when I’m finding out that you’ve been lying to me for who knows how long!” You insist, reaching behind you until you feel a stack of the moving boxes hit your calf, sitting down on the large box as you look up at Simon across the room. “What am I supposed to-”

“I said enough! Just drop it, please birdie. It’s nothin’.” He snaps at you, going to slam a hand down on the kitchen counter but catching himself at the last second, glancing down the hall towards Rosie’s closed door as he shakes his head to himself

“No! I’m not just going to drop this, Simon. How am I meant to know that you haven’t hidden anything else from me?”

“Oh, because you don’t hide anythin’?” He asks, stepping closer to you while trying to keep his voice down, lest you both wake the baby up

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Christs sake, I’m talkin’ ’bout Rosie’s father. What else would we be talkin’ ‘bout?” He admits, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat, coming to sit on the boxes across from you

“Are you kidding me?” You ask, narrowing your eyes at him. “We’ve gone over this before, it was a fucking one night stand Simon! Rosie doesn’t have a father, because I don’t know who her fucking father is! Is that what you want to hear? That I dont know the stranger who knocked me up after sleeping with him one goddamn time?”

“I don’t know what happened because we never talk bout it!” He replies, one foot incessantly tapping agains the tiled floor as he struggles to keep his cool. “There’s some bloke out there who could show up one day and take everythin’ I’ve worked for, so bloody fuckin’ right I’m concerned! How could you not know who he is? Might not know his name, but you could pick him out of a lineup surely? Describe him?”

“Are you seriously that insecure right now? You’re feeling threatened by a ghost? Because that’s all he was Simon, was a fucking ghost! It was a goddamn Halloween party. Every single person in that was wearing a mask, including me!” You argue back to him. “You want me to try and describe some tall guy wearing all black and a stupid skull mask? Is that it? How he didn’t even take it off while we were having sex? How he only wanted me to call him Ghost the entire goddamn night? What does it matter, Simon?“

By the end of your rant, you’re left huffing and puffing, borderline seeing red as you can’t believe of all things, this is what Simon would feel the need to bring up at a time like this

You’re expecting him to argue back, waiting on him to retaliate with whatever other ugly words you’re going to throw at each other tonight, the first proper fight you’ve ever had

And yet, he’s sat perfectly still, eyes locked on your own though it’s as if he isn’t quite seeing you

Rather, he looks like he’s seen a ghost

“Simon?”

He remembers that night almost too perfectly

Exactly half a year since his forced retirement, Simon was all too eager to get through the last of his ‘highly recommended’ therapy sessions

The older gentleman he met with once a month wasn’t all that bad, to his credit, had some decent stories to share and never pressed Simon to fill in the silence when he wasn’t in the mood to do so

But he was still a shrink at the end of the day, wasn’t he? Still wanted the former Lieutenant to talk about his feelings and his past and his thoughts and his nightmares and just about everything Simon would rather keep under heavily guarded lock and key

Even if he never insisted on making Simon spill his guts the way he might have imagined a shrink was obligated to do in their mandated fifty minute sessions, he’d still somehow managed to get the younger man to open up to the smallest degree, learned as much as he was willing to share within these bleak walls

Though he held no ill feelings towards him nor his profession, Simon couldn’t help but glance at the clock above the shrink’s head at least every other minute, looking forward to having his Saturday afternoons back to himself soon as this last appointment was done and over with

“Simon?” He remembers the old man saying, catching his wandering eye. “Did you hear me?”

“Sorry. Go on.” The muscular man had said, crossing his arms across his chest as he’d fought to give the man before him his full attention.

“I was only just saying,” he kindly went on, a soft smile appearing below his white moustache. “If if was something you might be open to exploring, I don’t think it would be the worst idea if you wanted to wear the mask out in public again. One last time.”

“Why would I do tha’?” Simon had questioned.

“Please correct me if I’m wrong, but you’ve spoken before about feeling conflicted between who you used to be six months ago, and who you’re having to become now post-retirement. A man with a name and a job and obligations. Whereas for over a decade, you were certain you’d never be anything more than this Ghost fellow you’ve mentioned. This man without a name, without a face. Am I right on this?”

“Suppose so.” He grumbled, shifting in his spot, the softness of the cushions around him a mundane luxury he was still growing used to feeling.

“You’ve also said that the honourable discharge came as a bit of a surprise, an unexpected end to this Ghost, as it were. Something, or someone, you never had the chance to truly mourn.” The shrink had gone on, gesticulating his pale, wrinkled hands with every word he spoke in Simon’s direction.

On his end, Simon could only manage to nod in response, taking in the man’s perspective

“The mask was something pivotal for you, something you held on to without fail for years, Simon. Years. It’s understandably difficult to be told you would no longer going to need this thing you had grown to, dare I say, depend on? Something that kept you separate from the rest of the world? A world you were being thrown back into without a choice?”

The older man had allowed for a beat of silence as Simon absorbed his words, only keeping his eyes on him as any indication now that he was still listening

“Now, I know you’d said that you haven’t put the mask back on since. We also evidently can’t replicate the sort of environment that Ghost used to live in. But if you wanted to put the mask back on for one night. If you wanted to put the mask back on for just a moment and perhaps allow yourself to make peace with this change in your life, to say goodbye to Ghost and give yourself the chance to fully become Simon, well, tonight might not be the worst night to try and do so.”

As if he needed his own shrink reminding him that it was Halloween that night

He remembers the odd few pumpkins lined up outside the apartments he’d passed on his walk home from the session

Remembers the posters for discounted costumes and reminders to check your children’s candy dotted along brick walls here and there

Hell he’d even had a group of giggling trick or treaters run past him at one point that evening

Staring at the handful of boxes he still couldn’t bring himself to unpack yet, Simon sat ins his flat entirely too long that night with a drink in hand, staring at the very one he knew held the thing he woulnd’t have been caught dead without less than a yer ago, now ruffed between some folded shirts

The more drinks he got in his system, the less ludicrous the doc’s idea had sounded to him

Perhaps he should don the mask one last time, if only to see what it felt like to have his second skin back on him again, to be Ghost for only just a moment more

He had been tearing the cardboard box open before he knew it, ripping through clothing until his hands met the familiar feeling of the skull beneath his fingertips

He hadn’t bothered looking in a mirror or anything dramatic of the sort as he slipped the material over his head, not feeling the need to glance at the face he once relished in knowing was the last one countless had ever seen in their lives

Unsure of how he felt but knowing he didn’t want to sit still, Simon had gone back out onto the streets, the sun having set long ago and trick or treaters certainly tucked into bed by now with lollipop coloured tongues and wrappers awry

He knew he wanted to keep drinking that night, seeing as it was the only way he could fall asleep most nights, and needn’t go very far before following the noise of the nearest pub, only just around the corner from his measly flat

Though the place had been crowded that night, packed with the young and old all dressed in differing levels to commitment to their costumes, Simon was pleased to see he could still part a crowd with ease as he’d slunk his way over to the busy bar

The music had been damn near defeaning, and the heat from all the dancing bodies was poignant, his senses kicking into overdrive as he fought the urge to turn hightail and head back to the solace of his empty four walls

The barkeep hadn’t even bat an eye at Ghost’s appearance as he’d made his way over and took his order, making haste to keep up with the demanding crowd

What had the doc said, again? That he ought to be taking this time to say goodbye to Ghost and welcome in Simon?

Pure rubbish, as far as he was concerned

He would always be Ghost in a way, wouldn’t he? Mask or not, his hands would still be stained with someone’s blood, his eyes will still be ones that witnessed death for a living, his heart would still beat to a broken drum, he would always be a ghost of a man on way or another

And so, no, he likely would not have said goodbye to Ghost that night, had he had much of a chance to continue thinking about it

But then again, fate has a way of making things fall into place right when they need to, doesn’t it?

For Simon had only just received his drink when a young woman had suddenly come crashing into his side, her hands unabashedly coming to grasp onto his bicep as she leaned her weight into him

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” She’d said, loud enough to be heard over the music, glancing not at Ghost, but rather at someone who’d come to stand just behind him

Prepared to swing around in his seat and size up the person behind him, Simon’s eyes had gotten caught halfway there, when they landed on the stranger holding onto him

Donned in a flowing white dress with long billowing sleeves, a single red rose tucked behind her ear to match the red painted across her enticing lips, Simon was surprised to find an almost perfect Christine from the Phantom of the Opera stood before him, though perhaps more so that the young woman was also wearing the Phantom’s half mask across her face

“You’re expecting me to believe that this is your boyfriend?” A gruff voice had spoken out from the din of the crowd, Simon’s gazing finally landing on a poor imitation of a superhero, the lad clearly wasted on one too many drinks as he tried stepping closer to the mystery woman

Simon’s gaze had fixed back upon the woman’s face, eyes locking for the first time that night, the music in the room suddenly no longer so intolerable, nor the heat so unbearable, not when she was looking at him like that

Simon was smart enough to catch onto what was going on here in time to step in, cutting into the man’s attempt to squeeze closer to the young lady still clinging to Simon’s arm, his tall stature alone enough to have the bloke taking a step back

“Husband. Actually.” Ghost had decided to clarify for him, slinking an arm around your shoulders and ignoring the spark he felt as he did so, blaming the drinks he’d had himself. “Best move on to the next one, mate. She’s taken.”

Luckily, the lad apparently still had enough common sense, or at least self preseration instincts, to know when it was time to back off, moving back through the crowd with his head hung low, not that either of you were still looking at him, instead turning to face one another again

“Jesus, he’s been hounding me all night, wouldn’t take no for an answer, but you say all of ten words to him and he’s over it? Ugh, men I swear.” You’d said, leaning your elbows against the bar top as you went to wave down the barkeep, before catching Simon’s eye again and sending him a playful smile

“Funny way to say thank you.” He’d said, ignoring the way the genuine widening of your smile at his words had sent a jolt through his heart

“Hey, I was getting there.” You had laughed, the sound barely making its way to his ears through the noise of the crowd, but even just the whisper of it has him unconsciously stepping closer to you. “Would a drink be enough to repay for you saving me?”

Simon had glanced back over his shoulder, the tosser nowhere to be seen amongst the flashing lights and ever moving mass of bodies strolling and dancing about

You’d been nearly blinding to him in the darkness of the bar that night, your pale dress and startlingly white mask illuminated by the moving lights, the fog of his drinks already catching up to him, you were an image to behold nonetheless

It’d been a long, long time since Simon had had a girl in his bed, let alone a bird as pretty as you, but Ghost however? If he was lucky tonight, he might be able to get you to come back home with him, and then never see you again when he took the mask off in the morning

“Only if you’ll have one with me.” He’d replied, watching as you lifted a single brow in amusement. “Got to keep up the appearance that we’re here together now, haven’t we?”

“Hmm, suppose so.” You’d agreed easily, hopping up onto the barstool next to him as it freed up, the blush on your cheeks apparent when he’d reached his muscular arm behind you to drag the stool closer. “So, what’s my knight in shining armour’s name, then?”

“Call me Ghost.”

Muahahaha

I’ve been dropping hints in the chapters for a while now, and quite a few of you have guessed it, but yes, it seems Simon might know the baby daddy better than he thinks he does

As an almost strictly fluff writer, the angst in this one was so tough to write! Luckily next chapter will be filled with lots of fluff and smut to make up for the fight

- M 🫶🏻

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[readwritealldayallnight]

Bird Watching

Construction Worker!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x single mom!reader

‘Birds of a feather,

We should stick together, I know,

I said I’d never,

Think I wasn’t better alone’

Part one (2.3k words)

Part two (2.4K words)

Part three (3.6k words)

Part four (4.5k words)

Part five (6.3k words)

Part six (8.8k words)

Part seven (5.4K words)

Part eight (coming soon)

‘I knew you in another life,

You had that same look in your eyes,

I love you,

Don’t act so surprised’

[readwritealldayallnight]

Part seven of ‘Bird Watching’ aka hot construction worker Simon x single mom reader

The fight happens on a day like any other, a random Tuesday in early March

Stepping outside as you clutch your baby close to your chest, you’d almost expected to find the earth to have stopped spinning, to see birds dropping dead to the ground midflight, for dogs to bark incessantly at seemingly nothing at all, hell maybe even for the sun to have disappeared from the sky entirely

But no, everything was still the same, the world went on, the earth kept spinning, and life continued, even in spite of that heavy feeling in your chest telling you that nothing would ever be the same again, not when your world had just seemingly slipped out from under you

What else were you to think after learning what you’d just been told?

You’d sat in that office for far too long, the bright murals on the walls more obnoxious than ever, smiling paintings of woodland creatures mocking you with every second that ticked by, your mind unable to wrap itself around the words being thrown at you, seeing as they were so contrary to everything you knew, so opposite to the man you’d come love

“I’m sorry but- I think you’re wrong. There’s- there’s got to be more to this that I’m not understanding. It doesn’t- this doesn’t make any sense.” You’d mumbled, staring into space as though caught in a daze, certain you’d wake up from this dream sooner than later and laugh about it in the morning, though with every pitiful look the assistant director sent your way, you were worried this was one nightmare you wouldn’t be able to pinch yourself out of

“Hon, I really wish I was wrong too.” She said, rubbing what you’re sure she intended to be a soothing hand across your back, though everything felt too hot right now, too claustrophobic, and you were resisting the urge to flinch from her touch.

“You must be.” You practically whispered to yourself. It had been at least twenty minutes of this now, going back and forth in disbelief despite the paper trail before you

“What about that small chance that I’m not, though? What if this is what’s happening?” She added, pulling her hand back and angling herself to better face you, her expression still pinched into that look of pity and concern you wanted to smack off of her, despite knowing she was speaking with the best of intentions

“What? That he’s trying to trap me?! Has been from the beginning? There’s no way, nuh-uh.” You shook your head adamantly, refusing to believe that there was any possibility of something so ludicrous being true, of being your reality, your life

“Please just- just hear me out?” She all but pleaded, glancing towards the closed door as you heard the sound of laughter echoing down the hall, parents still filtering in and out, picking up their children like any other day, unaware of the drama unfolding in the office. “We always thought it was kind of strange at first that he wasn’t listed on her birth certificate when you submitted it with all your other paper work but- we really didn’t give it much more thought. Really didn’t think twice when he added himself to the list of contacts after you hadn’t put him down, because he told us you’d just forgotten to. I mean from the moment he walked in here he’s always called himself your husband, and you his wife, always claimed to be Rosie’s dad.”

At this point your eyes are squeezed shut, unable to differentiate between what you’re hearing and what you know to be true in your heart. Or at least, what your heart desperately wants to believe is true- your confidence slipping with every word she speaks

“And when he insisted a few months ago that 75% of Rosie’s daycare fees be charged directly to his account, we-”

“What?” You all but hiss at her, eyes snapping open in shock

“So you didn’t know about that either.” She mumbles, cheeks reddening in apparent embarrassment, whether for your or herself you’re unsure, though you’re certain you’re starting to see red the longer you sit here. “I mean, is it even all that surprising at this point? You just got done telling me he’s been trying to have you financially depend on him from the get go.”

“I said he’d offered to help me with the bills when we first started dating. Not that he tried to entrap me!” You bite back, unable to feel sorry yet that you’re being so short with her when this isn’t her fault, right now you need someone to be upset with, someone to take your feelings out on, and unfortunately she happens to be the unlucky messenger caught in the crossfire.

“I’m sure that’s how he made it sound, but hon, I’m just seeing red flag after red flag here. It starts with small ‘favours’ like that, then he’s telling you that you don’t have to work anymore, that you can rely on him. And asking you to move in so soon-”

“It- it isn’t ‘so soon’. We’re already practically living together, we- we’re in love. This- this isn’t- I don’t-” you cut off yourself off, unsure what you’d even say at this point. You can feel a headache coming on, your mind running a mile a minute, you wouldn’t be surprised to find steam coming off of you you’re feeling so heated. You’re beyond confused now, your heart knows that Simon’s never led you astray before, never give you a single reason to doubt him or think of him as dishonest. But you can’t ignore what you’re hearing either, as contrary as it might be to what you’ve known to be true, the facts are set out before you

“I know you love him.” She says softer this time, eyes trying to convey a comfort you don’t want right now. “But I can’t lie, I’m worried now. Like you said, this could all be some very strange misunderstanding. But from where I’m sitting babe, it seems like he’s been lying to you for months now, if not from the start. And the only reasons I can think of him doing that, aren’t very good ones.”

“I just don’t-” Your words are cut off when a knock rasps against the office door, both of you glancing over in time to see the door open.

“Hey Emma, Rosie’s mum hasn’t picked her up yet and I have to clean the room- oh! There you are!” One of Rosie’s educators says, stepping into the room with none other than your baby sat against her hip

You can feel the tension momentarily leave your body as Rosie spots you, her neutral expression turning into one of pure joy as she realizes her mama’s here, tiny arms reaching out towards you as she starts to flail in her teacher’s arms, sweet little coos erupting from her as she all but tries to leap towards you

“We were just chatting. Sorry to have kept you waiting with her. Hope she wasn’t too much trouble.” You say, standing from your chair and taking Rosie into your arms, feeling her lay her little head against you as she makes herself comfortable in your hold, a comfort you desperately need yourself right now

“Her? Trouble? Never. She had a great day today.” The teacher smiles politely, excusing herself to likely go finish her closing duties, certainly eager to get out of here now that you’ve got Rosie off her hands

“Maybe we could-”

“I’m gonna get this one home.” You cut Emma off before she can start, readjusting your hold on Rosie as you take a steadying breath. You want nothing more than to get out of here, to pretend that this never happened, though you aren’t sure you’re ready yet for what’s certainly about to happen at home. “Thanks for the chat. I’ll think about what you said and- I’ve got some talking to do with Simon now, I suppose.”

Perhaps by some small miracle, Simon ends up having to work late that night, shooting you a text to let you know that he’s sorry he won’t be home for supper and to please give Rosie a goodnight kiss from him if he isn’t back by her bedtime

You don’t reply to his message

You feel numb, as though this were something that was happening to someone else, a story you might overhear people whispering about while in line at the grocery store, or even an all too cheesy reality TV show storyline, certainly not something that’s happening in your home, to your family

You feel akin to a ghost, a spectre simply going through the motions as you float through the flat, following Rosie’s bedtime routine with nothing more than muscle memory to guide you from step A to B

She’s nodding off in your arms before you know it, blissfully unaware as to the turmoil happening in her mum’s mind, the fight that’s likely to ensue when her dad comes home, none the wiser as you lay her down in her crib for the night, a soft kiss planted on her forehead for Simon’s sake because as conflicted as you are, his love for her is undeniable

If anything, that’s the very thing that has you feeling so confused right now, is because you know Simon loves you, both you and Rosie, and so everything that’s just been revealed to you is so utterly contradicatory you can’t even begin to try and wrap your brain around it

He’s never been anything short of wonderful to you, willing to bend over backwards to make you smile from the very moment you met

The Simon you know wouldn’t lie to you, wouldn’t hide things from you, wouldn’t try to entrap you in any way like Emma or anyone else might try to insinuate

And yet…

Shutting her door quietly, you make your way down the hall, glancing at the piles of boxes that have only recently made a home for themselves along the walls of your flat

Moving boxes, the majority of them being from Simon’s own place across town that he hasn’t been to in months, as you prepare to move into the new house in the upcoming weeks

A house that you love, a house that you dreamt about, a house you can picture becoming a home, and yet still, a house he bought without asking you first, apparently a common trend

Plopping yourself down on the couch, rubbing furiously at your tired eyes as you try in vain to make sense of this conflicting situation

Because the Simon you know, isn’t capable of lying to you

The Simon you know has never once failed to fulfill a promise to you, never ceases to exceed your wildest dreams and expectations time and time again, always coming through for you in every way you’ve ever wanted and never knew you needed

The Simon you know is one who works harder than anyone you’ve ever met before, but didn’t hesitate for a split second to drop everything when Rosie had her first runny nose, fussing over her incessantly until you were both sure it was nothing more than a case of the sniffles

The Simon you know never lets you go through a late night feeding alone, getting up out of bed with you every single time her cries reach your ears, or sometimes insisting you stay asleep while he either goes to retrieve her for you or feeds her a premade bottle himself

The Simon you know doesn’t complain when the kitchen sink springs a leak after he’s had a long day at work, but rather angles Rosie’s high chair so she can see him working as he talks her through every step of the repair, teasing her about starting to pull her weight around he house as she giggles

The Simon you know pretends to grumble when you insist on applying sunscreen to his face on particularly sunny days, but secretly loves every second you spend so close him, fingers tracing his skin and taking care of him as delicately as you would with Rosie

The Simon you know shamelessly carries the diaper bag over his shoulder wherever you go, proudly wears Rosie on his chest in the baby sling any chance he gets, and most of all, never fails to hold your heart in his hand no matter how full they may already be

Tonight however? You can’t help the way your heart seemingly drops when you hear the telltale sound of keys at the front door

Simon is home

“Birdie?” His deep, Manchester accent calls out from around the corner. You’re hardly in control of your body as you rise to your feet and all but float towards him, torn between needing his comfort during such a confusing time, but equally fighting off the hurt and skepticism you’re beginning to feel

“Hi Si.” You meekly respond, coming into his view just as he’s toeing off his mud-caked boots, his eyes lighting up once he sees you

“Hi love.” He replies, stepping closer until you’re within his reach, naturally falling against his chest as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, your eyes closing as you breathe in his scent. “Rosie asleep yet?”

“Put her down just a couple minutes ago.” You answer, arms snaking around his torso to embrace him tightly, unable to deny the hot tears beginning to prickle at the corner of your eyes.

“M’sorry I missed bedtime.”

“S’alright. Gave her your good night kiss for you. And I saved you supper. Just some chicken and salad but-”

“‘Jus’ chicken and salad’ is already more than I deserve for coming home late to my girls. Thank you, birdie.”

You know your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes when he pulls back to look at you, pulling yourself out of his hold to head towards the kitchen, his footsteps right behind yours

“How was your day? Not workin’ you too hard are they?” He asks, opening the fridge and pulling out the plate you’d saved for him

“No, work was fine.” You answer, awkwardly rubbing your arms as you lean against the wall, poking the edge of one of his moving boxes labeled simply as ‘stuff’ with your socked toes. “Actually, my day got kind of weird towards the end, if I’m being honest.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Simon asks you, peering at you over his shoulder as he gets ready to reheat his food

“Well I uh- I went to pick up Rosie from nursery and wound up talking to Emma. You know, the assistant director?”

If you didn’t know Simon so well, didn’t know his mind and his body language like the back of your hand by now, you might have missed the oh so subtle way he tensed up for no more than a split second, his large frame perfectly still as he held his breath for no longer than a blink of the eye, but you saw it

“‘Course. How is she?” He asks as casually as he can, though he pointedly isn’t meeting your gaze anymore

“She’s fine. Busy as usual. But anyways, I got chatting with her in the first place because I was just letting her know about the move soon. Wanted to update our address.” You add, waving a hand towards the many boxes dotted around the place

“Ah, right. Smart o’ you to get a head start on tha’.” Simon chides in, still not looking at you as he goes about grabbing himself silverware and a drink, keeping his head down the whole time

“I thought so too.” You say, pushing yourself off the wall to step closer to him, feeling your heart begin to pick up pace as dare to say what you’re too afraid to confirm. “Also figured I would go ahead and update Rosie’s contact information, while I was at it. Was well overdue adding you.”

At this point Simon has stopped moving entirely, his back turned to you as he faces the kitchen sink, not a word to be said as you continue

“But then she told me that you were already on there.”

Nearly a full five seconds pass by in complete and utter silence, before Simon slowly spins himself around to face you

“Oh.” Is all he can apparently manage to say at first, his face pulled into an expression you aren’t overly familiar with, eyes glancing everywhere but at your face. “Did you somehow add me and forget?”

“That’s what I thought at first too.” You elaborate, wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt, despite knowing that there isn’t a logical explanation for the second half of what you’re about to say. “But it was strange because she told me that she remembers having a conversation with you, after our first visit. Said that you were the one to add yourself.”

Again, Simon seems to forfeit to what he knows best in moments of high stress, a painful silence that echoes louder than any shouts ever could

“Things got really strange though, the more she told me. Like how you’ve been paying the daycare bills behind my back.”

“Love, I-”

“What was she talking about, Simon? Please tell me she was wrong.” You interrupt him, feeling your cheeks begins to burn with untamed emotions you haven’t dared to let out yet, the stinging at your lash line growing stronger as hot tears threaten to topple over

“No. She wasn’t wrong, but-”

“What?” You interrupt him, trying your best to keep your volume low for Rosie’s sake, though you can tell your emotions are already starting to get the better of you

“Look birdie, I- I’m not ready to talk about this yet. Let’s leave it alone for tonight, yeah?” Simon says as coolly as he can manage, though you notice the way his jaw ticks, how he runs his hand through his short hair as he only does when frustrated

“What the hell does that mean? You’re not ready to talk about what? Simon what is going on here?” You ask him, feeling yourself becoming light headed as the conversation takes the turn you were fearing it would, his words failing to reassure the uncertainty brewing within you

“Love it’s not- there isn’t anythin’ going on. I’m only jus’ trying to take care of you. So please, let’s just leave it.”

“No, Si. I can’t just ‘leave it’. Not when I’m finding out that you’ve been lying to me for who knows how long!” You insist, reaching behind you until you feel a stack of the moving boxes hit your calf, sitting down on the large box as you look up at Simon across the room. “What am I supposed to-”

“I said enough! Just drop it, please birdie. It’s nothin’.” He snaps at you, going to slam a hand down on the kitchen counter but catching himself at the last second, glancing down the hall towards Rosie’s closed door as he shakes his head to himself

“No! I’m not just going to drop this, Simon. How am I meant to know that you haven’t hidden anything else from me?”

“Oh, because you don’t hide anythin’?” He asks, stepping closer to you while trying to keep his voice down, lest you both wake the baby up

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Christs sake, I’m talkin’ ’bout Rosie’s father. What else would we be talkin’ ‘bout?” He admits, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat, coming to sit on the boxes across from you

“Are you kidding me?” You ask, narrowing your eyes at him. “We’ve gone over this before, it was a fucking one night stand Simon! Rosie doesn’t have a father, because I don’t know who her fucking father is! Is that what you want to hear? That I dont know the stranger who knocked me up after sleeping with him one goddamn time?”

“I don’t know what happened because we never talk bout it!” He replies, one foot incessantly tapping agains the tiled floor as he struggles to keep his cool. “There’s some bloke out there who could show up one day and take everythin’ I’ve worked for, so bloody fuckin’ right I’m concerned! How could you not know who he is? Might not know his name, but you could pick him out of a lineup surely? Describe him?”

“Are you seriously that insecure right now? You’re feeling threatened by a ghost? Because that’s all he was Simon, was a fucking ghost! It was a goddamn Halloween party. Every single person in that was wearing a mask, including me!” You argue back to him. “You want me to try and describe some tall guy wearing all black and a stupid skull mask? Is that it? How he didn’t even take it off while we were having sex? How he only wanted me to call him Ghost the entire goddamn night? What does it matter, Simon?“

By the end of your rant, you’re left huffing and puffing, borderline seeing red as you can’t believe of all things, this is what Simon would feel the need to bring up at a time like this

You’re expecting him to argue back, waiting on him to retaliate with whatever other ugly words you’re going to throw at each other tonight, the first proper fight you’ve ever had

And yet, he’s sat perfectly still, eyes locked on your own though it’s as if he isn’t quite seeing you

Rather, he looks like he’s seen a ghost

“Simon?”

He remembers that night almost too perfectly

Exactly half a year since his forced retirement, Simon was all too eager to get through the last of his ‘highly recommended’ therapy sessions

The older gentleman he met with once a month wasn’t all that bad, to his credit, had some decent stories to share and never pressed Simon to fill in the silence when he wasn’t in the mood to do so

But he was still a shrink at the end of the day, wasn’t he? Still wanted the former Lieutenant to talk about his feelings and his past and his thoughts and his nightmares and just about everything Simon would rather keep under heavily guarded lock and key

Even if he never insisted on making Simon spill his guts the way he might have imagined a shrink was obligated to do in their mandated fifty minute sessions, he’d still somehow managed to get the younger man to open up to the smallest degree, learned as much as he was willing to share within these bleak walls

Though he held no ill feelings towards him nor his profession, Simon couldn’t help but glance at the clock above the shrink’s head at least every other minute, looking forward to having his Saturday afternoons back to himself soon as this last appointment was done and over with

“Simon?” He remembers the old man saying, catching his wandering eye. “Did you hear me?”

“Sorry. Go on.” The muscular man had said, crossing his arms across his chest as he’d fought to give the man before him his full attention.

“I was only just saying,” he kindly went on, a soft smile appearing below his white moustache. “If if was something you might be open to exploring, I don’t think it would be the worst idea if you wanted to wear the mask out in public again. One last time.”

“Why would I do tha’?” Simon had questioned.

“Please correct me if I’m wrong, but you’ve spoken before about feeling conflicted between who you used to be six months ago, and who you’re having to become now post-retirement. A man with a name and a job and obligations. Whereas for over a decade, you were certain you’d never be anything more than this Ghost fellow you’ve mentioned. This man without a name, without a face. Am I right on this?”

“Suppose so.” He grumbled, shifting in his spot, the softness of the cushions around him a mundane luxury he was still growing used to feeling.

“You’ve also said that the honourable discharge came as a bit of a surprise, an unexpected end to this Ghost, as it were. Something, or someone, you never had the chance to truly mourn.” The shrink had gone on, gesticulating his pale, wrinkled hands with every word he spoke in Simon’s direction.

On his end, Simon could only manage to nod in response, taking in the man’s perspective

“The mask was something pivotal for you, something you held on to without fail for years, Simon. Years. It’s understandably difficult to be told you would no longer going to need this thing you had grown to, dare I say, depend on? Something that kept you separate from the rest of the world? A world you were being thrown back into without a choice?”

The older man had allowed for a beat of silence as Simon absorbed his words, only keeping his eyes on him as any indication now that he was still listening

“Now, I know you’d said that you haven’t put the mask back on since. We also evidently can’t replicate the sort of environment that Ghost used to live in. But if you wanted to put the mask back on for one night. If you wanted to put the mask back on for just a moment and perhaps allow yourself to make peace with this change in your life, to say goodbye to Ghost and give yourself the chance to fully become Simon, well, tonight might not be the worst night to try and do so.”

As if he needed his own shrink reminding him that it was Halloween that night

He remembers the odd few pumpkins lined up outside the apartments he’d passed on his walk home from the session

Remembers the posters for discounted costumes and reminders to check your children’s candy dotted along brick walls here and there

Hell he’d even had a group of giggling trick or treaters run past him at one point that evening

Staring at the handful of boxes he still couldn’t bring himself to unpack yet, Simon sat ins his flat entirely too long that night with a drink in hand, staring at the very one he knew held the thing he woulnd’t have been caught dead without less than a yer ago, now ruffed between some folded shirts

The more drinks he got in his system, the less ludicrous the doc’s idea had sounded to him

Perhaps he should don the mask one last time, if only to see what it felt like to have his second skin back on him again, to be Ghost for only just a moment more

He had been tearing the cardboard box open before he knew it, ripping through clothing until his hands met the familiar feeling of the skull beneath his fingertips

He hadn’t bothered looking in a mirror or anything dramatic of the sort as he slipped the material over his head, not feeling the need to glance at the face he once relished in knowing was the last one countless had ever seen in their lives

Unsure of how he felt but knowing he didn’t want to sit still, Simon had gone back out onto the streets, the sun having set long ago and trick or treaters certainly tucked into bed by now with lollipop coloured tongues and wrappers awry

He knew he wanted to keep drinking that night, seeing as it was the only way he could fall asleep most nights, and needn’t go very far before following the noise of the nearest pub, only just around the corner from his measly flat

Though the place had been crowded that night, packed with the young and old all dressed in differing levels to commitment to their costumes, Simon was pleased to see he could still part a crowd with ease as he’d slunk his way over to the busy bar

The music had been damn near defeaning, and the heat from all the dancing bodies was poignant, his senses kicking into overdrive as he fought the urge to turn hightail and head back to the solace of his empty four walls

The barkeep hadn’t even bat an eye at Ghost’s appearance as he’d made his way over and took his order, making haste to keep up with the demanding crowd

What had the doc said, again? That he ought to be taking this time to say goodbye to Ghost and welcome in Simon?

Pure rubbish, as far as he was concerned

He would always be Ghost in a way, wouldn’t he? Mask or not, his hands would still be stained with someone’s blood, his eyes will still be ones that witnessed death for a living, his heart would still beat to a broken drum, he would always be a ghost of a man on way or another

And so, no, he likely would not have said goodbye to Ghost that night, had he had much of a chance to continue thinking about it

But then again, fate has a way of making things fall into place right when they need to, doesn’t it?

For Simon had only just received his drink when a young woman had suddenly come crashing into his side, her hands unabashedly coming to grasp onto his bicep as she leaned her weight into him

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” She’d said, loud enough to be heard over the music, glancing not at Ghost, but rather at someone who’d come to stand just behind him

Prepared to swing around in his seat and size up the person behind him, Simon’s eyes had gotten caught halfway there, when they landed on the stranger holding onto him

Donned in a flowing white dress with long billowing sleeves, a single red rose tucked behind her ear to match the red painted across her enticing lips, Simon was surprised to find an almost perfect Christine from the Phantom of the Opera stood before him, though perhaps more so that the young woman was also wearing the Phantom’s half mask across her face

“You’re expecting me to believe that this is your boyfriend?” A gruff voice had spoken out from the din of the crowd, Simon’s gazing finally landing on a poor imitation of a superhero, the lad clearly wasted on one too many drinks as he tried stepping closer to the mystery woman

Simon’s gaze had fixed back upon the woman’s face, eyes locking for the first time that night, the music in the room suddenly no longer so intolerable, nor the heat so unbearable, not when she was looking at him like that

Simon was smart enough to catch onto what was going on here in time to step in, cutting into the man’s attempt to squeeze closer to the young lady still clinging to Simon’s arm, his tall stature alone enough to have the bloke taking a step back

“Husband. Actually.” Ghost had decided to clarify for him, slinking an arm around your shoulders and ignoring the spark he felt as he did so, blaming the drinks he’d had himself. “Best move on to the next one, mate. She’s taken.”

Luckily, the lad apparently still had enough common sense, or at least self preseration instincts, to know when it was time to back off, moving back through the crowd with his head hung low, not that either of you were still looking at him, instead turning to face one another again

“Jesus, he’s been hounding me all night, wouldn’t take no for an answer, but you say all of ten words to him and he’s over it? Ugh, men I swear.” You’d said, leaning your elbows against the bar top as you went to wave down the barkeep, before catching Simon’s eye again and sending him a playful smile

“Funny way to say thank you.” He’d said, ignoring the way the genuine widening of your smile at his words had sent a jolt through his heart

“Hey, I was getting there.” You had laughed, the sound barely making its way to his ears through the noise of the crowd, but even just the whisper of it has him unconsciously stepping closer to you. “Would a drink be enough to repay for you saving me?”

Simon had glanced back over his shoulder, the tosser nowhere to be seen amongst the flashing lights and ever moving mass of bodies strolling and dancing about

You’d been nearly blinding to him in the darkness of the bar that night, your pale dress and startlingly white mask illuminated by the moving lights, the fog of his drinks already catching up to him, you were an image to behold nonetheless

It’d been a long, long time since Simon had had a girl in his bed, let alone a bird as pretty as you, but Ghost however? If he was lucky tonight, he might be able to get you to come back home with him, and then never see you again when he took the mask off in the morning

“Only if you’ll have one with me.” He’d replied, watching as you lifted a single brow in amusement. “Got to keep up the appearance that we’re here together now, haven’t we?”

“Hmm, suppose so.” You’d agreed easily, hopping up onto the barstool next to him as it freed up, the blush on your cheeks apparent when he’d reached his muscular arm behind you to drag the stool closer. “So, what’s my knight in shining armour’s name, then?”

“Call me Ghost.”

Muahahaha

I’ve been dropping hints in the chapters for a while now, and quite a few of you have guessed it, but yes, it seems Simon might know the baby daddy better than he thinks he does

As an almost strictly fluff writer, the angst in this one was so tough to write! Luckily next chapter will be filled with lots of fluff and smut to make up for the fight

- M 🫶🏻

Tag list: @dawnnightshade666 @topaz125 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @th3on3and0nly1r1s @sirbonesly @biscgutz @cmbghost @glossy01 @slowlyshycomputer @barcelonaaababe @astrxsee @sweetpeakarolinaaa @aqua-nina @wizzdot @beautifuleaglealpaca @peachy-satan00 @drewsuncrustables @pato-spoiler-27 @lem-hhn @dravenskye @juullllssss @mxsatorisimp @merkitty49 @monssan99-blog @notkyleelol @tessakate @sahvlren @danika1994 @viennakarma @pastel-devil-06 @asoulsreverie @puppydollgstar @strawberrygato @heletsmelovehim @404creep @just-lilita @desiretolive @marigold-morelli @robinfeldt98 @sleep101 @scaleniusrm @wh0reforstars @beebeechaos @lulutheoverthinker @casterblue @amans-puer @mestrecadumaverick @loud-mouph @t3a-bag @enfppuff @kneelforloki @scorpio-echo @casketofroses @vintage-karma (Taglist is full, tumblr only lets you add 50 users)

[readwritealldayallnight]

Part seven to be released tomorrow

- M 🫶🏻

Bird Watching

Construction Worker!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x single mom!reader

‘Birds of a feather,

We should stick together, I know,

I said I’d never,

Think I wasn’t better alone’

Part one (2.3k words)

Part two (2.4K words)

Part three (3.6k words)

Part four (4.5k words)

Part five (6.3k words)

Part six (8.8k words)

Part seven (coming soon)

‘I knew you in another life,

You had that same look in your eyes,

I love you,

Don’t act so surprised’

[readwritealldayallnight]

As if this has 25k notes now-

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who from the moment he laid eyes on you, has only ever referred to you as his wife

You, this sweet little thing, running through the halls on base one day when you turn a corner and nearly run headfirst into the Lieutenant, who’s walking alongside Soap

“Oh! Sorry about that, sir.” You told him, never slowing down in your hurried pace as you snuck around his large frame and continued down towards whatever you were evidently late for

The only reason his gaze had followed your retreating form, was that unlike everyone else, you had met his eyes when you spoke, even smiled warmly up at him

That one smile and he was done for

“Who was tha’?” The sergeant had questioned, seeing Ghost’s attention still fixated on you.

“Think that was my wife.”

“Yer what?!”

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who makes it a point to let everyone know that you are in fact his wife

Well, everyone apart from you apparently

He would certainly never abuse his position as a Lieutenant, but some new recruit had the audacity to whistle at you as you walked by? Well 100 laps around the base don’t exactly run themselves

Another soldier saved you a seat next to him in a briefing? He can enjoy scrubbing toilet seats for the next week in that case

Someone actually had the bollocks to ask you for your phone number? Perfect, he needed a volunteer for demonstrating hand to hand combat to the recruits, medics on standby of course

By the time he properly introduces himself to you for the first time, it’s understood by everyone else around that you are, for all intents and purposes, Mrs Riley

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who listens to you tell him your name in a voice that resembles music to his ears, hardly bothering to remember your last name, seeing as it’ll be changing soon enough anyway

“You can call me anythin’ you want, love.” His deep, gravelly voice had sent shivers down your spine, cheeky smirk widening beneath his mask. “So long as you call me, that is.”

By the end of your first date, (you were sitting alone in the dining hall and he wordlessly joined you what do you mean this isn’t a date) he’s wondering if you’ll insist on a ceremony or if he can sweep you away to the nearest courthouse and make this official, slipping a ring onto you finger and himself into you

You had laughed when he put his number into your phone and named himself ‘Husband’, certain that the man was only messing with you, some kind of hazing that you apparently weren’t aware Lieutenants played on the new communications hire, but it was only fair seeing as he’d saved your contact under ‘Wife’

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who is over the moon every time you play along, even if he knows you believe you’re only playing

“Ach, thanks Lt. Just what I needed.” Soap said, seeing Ghost’s approaching form enter the common room, holding a steaming cup of tea in each hand

“S’for my wife. Get your own.” The older man gruffly replied, sliding the mug onto the side table next to where you’re curled up on the couch, reading a book

“Aw, thank you honey.” You giggled, smiling up as him with an expression he thinks would taste even sweeter than honey if he were to run his tongue across your upturned lips

“Happy wife, happy life, sergeant.” Ghost shrugged, ignoring the other man’s pout, landing next to you and reaching an arm behind you across the back of the couch

“God, maybe I really should keep you.” You’d laughed, reaching a leg out to dig your socked toes into his muscled thigh, teasing him

Grasping your foot into his large, strong hands, he began massaging it, uncaring that you were only two of the many people in the common room, not when you looked at him like that, smiling together as though you truly were nothing more than a married couple

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who surprised you one day, insisting he needed your help with something crucial off base, and drove you to a local shopping outlet to look at none other than dresses

“Is there some sort of party happening?” You’d questioned, confused out of your mind

“Suppose you could consider it a party.” He’d answered, leading you through the many racks of dresses, you noticed were all, very conveniently, white

“Now while you’re lookin’ through dress sizes,” he’d added, taking your left hand in both of his. “You know your ring size? Got my own shoppin’ to do ‘round here.”

Series masterlist

[readwritealldayallnight]

oh M!!! this newest chapter of construction worker simon was everything i needed… the way you describe simon’s love for reader just absolutely melts my heart. he’s so deserving of rosie as well god he’s such a good dad to her. this is my fav story!! thank you!! you’re a phenomenal writer and i hope things start looking up for you <3

Oh my gosh you just made my whole day with this message!!! 🥹 thank you for your kind words!!!

Always try to put my heart into my writing so I’m glad it resonated with you and maybe melted a few hearts along the way

- M 🫶🏻

[readwritealldayallnight]

bird watching makes me feral

Glad you’re enjoying! I’ve been having so much fun worrying the series so I love hearing that people are digging it

But ikr where’s my six foot something man to sweep me off my feet

- M 🫶🏻

[readwritealldayallnight]

Part Six of ‘Bird Watching’ aka hot construction worker Simon x single mom reader

September

Few things in life have come easy to Simon Riley

Growing up, his home life had not been an easy one, feeling as though he were walking on egg shells throughout every step of his turbulent childhood, waking from his nightmares only to discover he lived under the same roof as one

Enlisting straight out of secondary school hadn’t been a difficult process, though going from the tall scrawny kid he had been to the mountain of a man he’d had to become had been no easy feat either, a combination of blood, sweat and tears along with years upon years of intense training had resulted in a hardened military man the SAS was all too happy to claim for themselves

Retiring from the job he’d grown certain he would die doing, now that had been far from easy for the Lieutenant

An honourable discharge is what they had called it, handing him a thick stack of papers one day when he felt they might as well as have slapped him across the face instead

He could have fought it, was legally within his rights to appeal the decision and voice his disagreement before the board, could have tried to have it overturned

And yet, it was just as true that the four letters popping up off the paper to mock him held a flame of truth to their drying ink: PTSD

At first, he’d almost thought it worse, the fact that they agreed there was nothing wrong with him physically, that his body, as beaten and battered as it had been, had always bounced back and been able to keep up with the job, but that now it was his mind they had decided they could no longer put their trust into

But worst of all? His own captain, a man he considered to be more of a father figure than his own flesh and blood had ever been to him, someone who’d saved his skin more times than he could ever hope to count, let alone repay, was unable to meet his eyes when asked if he disagreed

To say that he had anything short of furious at first would be an understatement, he’d felt betrayed by the very organization he’d sworn his life to, had been willing to lay his life down for, had killed for time and time again, and now that a few screws in his head were supposedly coming loose, they wanted nothing to do with him anymore? They were so ready and willing to throw him back onto the streets he’d once come from?

Price had known the forced retirement was going to be a tough blow to his Lieutenant, that it would mean uprooting the only life he’d decided he was deserving of, that he would have to start over entirely without a single soul to stand by him

The captain had done his best in reassuring him that this needn’t be a bad thing, that this could be an opportunity for Simon to truly start over in a positive way, that there was hope out there for him if he would only just allow himself the chance to have it

Knowing his Lieutenant better than most ever would, Price knew his words of wisdom were in one ear and out the other, swearing to the younger man that he would check up on him periodically, as often as the job would allow, but that he should do his best to avoid sitting idly for too long, perhaps find work that kept both his hands and mind busy

As difficult as it all was, time refused to stand still and let him catch his breath, to gather his bearings, already it had been nearly a year off the battlefield and on the construction sites instead

But this?

Your arm tucked into his much larger one as he pushes the pram, your other hand occupied with the ice cream cone you take turns giving him licks of, all because he noticed you eyeing the ice cream truck on the walk home from the park?

Well this, this for Simon is easy

And though he’s decided he has a new disdain for ice cream men who keep their prices jacked up so high even as the last bits of summer cling to the warm breeze as the days roll by, he knows he’d pay whatever exorbitant price it cost to put a smile on your face

“Want another lick?” You ask him, holding the cone up to his lips again for him to have a taste, the early September heat still warm enough that the treat is threatening to melt onto your hands

He savours his bite, never faltering in his steps as he pushes along a sleeping Rosie in her pram, the visor pulled down to keep her eyes safe from the afternoon sun

It’s been weeks of this now, this blissful little bubble the three of you have been floating in

You’d recovered from your illness in no time once you had allowed Simon to take on some of the workload and help you to recuperate, Rosie being the team player she is, had even taken her first ever bottle from Simon, an honour he’d proudly wear on his chest over any other medal he could have ever received during his time in service

Since then, things have so seamlessly fallen into place, it was as though this were always the inevitable conclusion that was bound to happen

He’s enjoyed watching you blush each time he holds a door open for you, whenever he calls you love or birdy, when he slings an arm around over your shoulders or around your waist, but especially that time when he asked the waitress if his girlfriend could have a refill on her water

He’s felt his heart skip a beat each time you laugh at one of his jokes, whenever he catches you staring and you tell him that it’s because he’s handsome, when you stand on tip toes to kiss his cheek or reach a hand out to hold his, but especially when you land your lips over his own waiting ones

In lieu of the night terrors he’s grown used to, he’s now been waking up with the image of your smiling face tucked beneath his eyelids each morning, and going to sleep is no longer a dreaded affair at night with you as his last waking thought

He’s been loving every moment he gets to spend with you, learning more about you each day, discovering what puts a grin on your lips and what makes you squirm, finding out what your dreams are and what keeps you up at night, picking up on your habits and quirks and storing them into the recesses of his brain for safekeeping

He adores the time he spends with Rosie too, a tiny version of her mum who has this behemoth of a man wrapped around her pudgy little fingers, he finds his mind has never felt calmer than when he has you both by his side

Despite everything, Simon finds that he’s … happy

Unequivocally, incomparably, unbelievably happy

He knows he loves you, loves Rosie as well, likely has loved you from the very start, and though the idea of saying such a thing out loud undoubtedly fills him with a sense of fear, a dread that’s been ingrained in him for decades if not from birth, it isn’t as overwhelming anymore, isn’t as terrifying as it could be or even should be

Because even though each time he looks in the mirror he sees a reflection of a man whom he considers to be anything but good, a soldier still plagued with nightmares and regrets from the borderline barbaric things he’s done over the years all in the name of duty, whatever it is you see when you look at him, he wants to be that man, wants to find that same man in the mirror one day you’re so certain is already in front of you

For now, all he can do is keep trying

“Shoot. Probably should’ve grabbed more napkins.” Your voice brings him back down to earth, snaps his mind back to reality, spotting the trickle of chocolate ice cream streaming down over your fingers as you finish the last bite

Well, he did say he’d try to be a good man, not a perfect man, he thinks to himself as he watches your tongue poke out from behind your lips, licking up the frozen treat’s trail across your digits, biting down on his own tongue to stop himself from offering assistance

“Am I all clean?” You ask, tilting your head around to give him a better look at your face

“Hold on,” Simon tells you, halting his stroll as he turns towards you, reaching with a careful hand to cup your soft cheek. “Got somethin’ righ’ here.”

Leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth, he lets his tongue run along your lips, catching the last remnants of chocolate left there, unable to hide the grin splayed on his own lips when he pulls back and meets your mischevious look with one of his own

“Cheeky.” You mumble to him, hiding both your smile and reddening cheeks as you duck your head down to glance at the still sleeping baby before you

Oh love, you have no idea

“Okay, well how ‘bout Friday? After work?”

“Hm, depends what time I’ll be finishin’ up that day. Likely it’ll go on late, I wouldn’t want to leave you waitin’ for me, love.”

“Saturday?”

“If I can get to everythin’ I need to get done by then, shouldn’t have to go in on the weekend.”

“As if they’re even making you work on weekends, with how hard you work already.”

“No one’s makin’ me go in, love.” Simon replies, stretching his arms above his head before slipping his jacket on. “It’s me who wants to see this job through. Besides, it’s only the finishing touches at this point, place’s nearly finished. Reckon Rosie’s gon’ be startin’ up pretty soon.”

“Oh, I know. Ugh, I don’t even want to talk about it. I’m not ready to let her go yet.” You pout, trying to be playful despite the honesty to your words.

The idea of leaving your baby in someone else’s care had seemed like such a far off idea when she’d first been born, something you’d have to do when the time came and money wouldn’t allow you to stay home any longer

But now that that date in question was rapidly approaching, you couldn’t help but to feel torn, divided between who you were before she was born, and this new reality where you were still expected to be that person while simultaneously revolving your entire existence around Rosie’s wellbeing

You wish you could just slow time down, hold onto her a little longer, soak in these priceless days and memories while ignoring your dwindling bank account

If only it were that simple…

“She’ll be alrigh’, swee’heart.” Simon tries his best to reassure you, ignoring the boots he’d been about to slip on an stepping closer to you, sliding a hand in between your shoulder blades. “An’ you can always think o’ my offer. No pressure, o’ course.”

As if you hadn’t been thinking about it constantly to begin with

Simon Riley, in the truest knight in shining armour fashion you’d come to know from him since day one, had made a suggestion over dinner the other day that had caught you off guard, an offer all too good to logically refuse

The two of you had been talking about the nursery yet again, your financial worries inevitably coming up as they went hand in hand with your need to get Rosie enrolled sooner than later, lest the lights get shut off or your water turned off before then

Simon had asked you how long you’d stay home with her if it were truly up to you, if money weren’t part of the equation and you didn’t need to go back to work

Of course, you’d thought about it before, hopelessly wishing you could keep her with you until she was perhaps a year old, at least at an age where you wouldn’t be risking the chance of missing out on so many of her milestones and development

None too awkwardly, Simon had brought up the fact that he’d worked another job before construction, one that had supposedly paid him quite well, meaning he had more money laying around then he knew what to do with

You’d been taken aback when he’d offered to pay whatever bills were preventing you from staying home with Rosie until you felt ready to go back to work, not as a loan or as a favour, certainly not something to hold over your head, but just as something he felt was right, something he felt both you and Rosie deserved

You hadn’t known what to say then, and you were still unsure of how to respond now, the idea being a very lovely and undoubtedly generous one, if not a daunting one

But things between you and Simon were still so new, so fresh, you wanted to continue exploring this relationship and see where things would lead, secretly harbouring hope that this would be the last first kiss you ever had, the last time you called someone your boyfriend before perhaps calling him something more serious, and to bring money into that equation, was scary

You’d witnessed numerous relationships gone wrong over finances, too many couples holding money over their partners head as leverage, and though your trusted Simon’s word that he genuinely wanted to share his with you out of the kindness of his heart, you couldn’t help the sentiment that you would feel as though you always owed him for it

Yes, it would have been a quick fix to the dilemma you were in, an instant solution to the worries that had been plaguing you for months now, but would you rather that, or potentially jeopardize what you and Simon are starting to build here?

And so you’d told him you would think about it, and think about it you did, over and over and over, and each time you came to the same conclusion; you just couldn’t take his money

“I’ll think about it, yeah.” You whispered, leaning farther into his touch. “In the meantime you think about what day is going to work for you and I’ll let the sitter know.”

As if she knew precisely that you were planning an outing without her, Rosie began grumbling in your arms, straining out of your hold and leaning into Simon just as you were

“Well hey there miss Rosie,” he chuckled deeply, large hands reaching out to pick her up effortlessly, the sight of him holding your baby one that never failed to make you go weak in the knees. “No fussin’ now, alrigh’? We’ve had lots o’ date wit’ ya, and we’ll have more to come. But I’d like to spend some time with your mum too, ya know?”

“As if she doesn’t get jealous enough already.” You laughed, thinking of how your little two month old likes to protest any time the both of you aren’t holding her. It makes your heart swell, to think of how quickly she’s taken to Simon, and though you know she’s just an infant, you like to imagine it’s because she’s a good judge of character

He’s only been in her life for a short period of time, but the bond those two are forming is undeniable, hell there are some times you’ll glance at him holding her and swear she’s starting to look like him

“She just knows what she likes, don’t you lil’ miss?” Simon asks, his fingers running down her belly to tickle her, the both of you entranced by the grin she gives him, her smiles growing larger and more frequent with each passing day

The both of your freeze in place however, utterly awestruck by the new sound ringing out throughout your flat, a noise that is nothing short of music to your ears

“Did- did she just laugh?” You ask, your own lips stretching into an amused grin as you watch her. “Simon! Holy shi- she just laughed right?”

“She did.” Simon whispers back to you, eyes locked on Rosie’s still smiling expression, small coos coming from her now as her gaze flits between the two of you

“Oh my gosh! That was her first laugh ever!” You can’t help but to laugh yourself, smoothing your hands down her soft head, landing a loving kiss on her forehead as you lean into Simon’s arm

“Really?” He asks, glancing at you with an expression that makes your heart stop, the utter joy in his eyes enough to make your breath catch in your throat, seeing him love your baby so effortlessly.

“Yeah, really.”

“Well in that case Rosie,” He says, forgetting the fact that he’d been about to slip his shoes on and head home, ignoring that he has to be on the job site in less than nine hours, as he makes his way towards your couch, eyes never straying from the bundle in his arms as you sit next to him. “I’ve got a few jokes to run by ya. D’ya like goldfish?”

October

“I dunno, love.”

“Oh, but the pictures would be so cute! Maybe if one of us is holding her up from behind? Would that work?”

“Well hold on, let me cut the leg holes a bit wider, just wanna make sure she’s alrigh’.”

“She is getting pretty chunky on us, isn’t she?” You ask, shifting your hold on Rosie as you switch her to your other hip. “Aren’t you lil’ miss?”

With less than a week to go until Rosie’s first Halloween, you were keen on getting some cute photos of her to celebrate, your family constantly asking for updates and pictures of her

Watching his facial expressions, you’d had trouble keeping a straight face on as you explained to Simon your vision of carving a jack-o-lantern so that Rosie could squeeze her chubby little legs and bottom inside, inspired by pictures you’d seen somewhere or another of smiling babies sat in pumpkins

He’d been skeptical at first, but could never turn you down, especially when you were so excited about trying it at least

“I’d hope so, seein’ how she never stops eatin’.” He chuckles setting the carving knife down to give her bare foot a squeeze, his smile widening as she offers her own little giggle in response. “Wonder what she’ll think o’ real food when the time comes.”

“I’m thinking she’ll probably be a fan. Either way my tits will be very grateful for the break. They’re always so sore.”

“A dilemma I’m happy to help with.” Simon’s gaze meets your own for a moment before you’re both averting your eyes elsewhere, deep blushes staining your cheeks as you can’t help but to recall the way he’d ‘helped’ your aching chest just the other day

It’s been a few weeks now since Rosie officially started nursery, a bittersweet change to say the least, though your work had been gracious enough to allow you to slowly ease back into the job, starting off only part time so that Rosie’s transition away from you wasn’t so jarring

It shattered your heart each and every time you had to drop her off and she would bawl her little eyes out, but slowly she was adjusting, growing used to the new faces and new routine, including not being able to feed off of you on demand

If anything she was taking everything in stride much better than you were

You were emotional, physically at work but mentally still with Rosie, wondering if she was okay, if this was the right decision to be making, not to mention that your body was still producing milk as if she was still attached to your hip 24 hours a day

It was just after your first full week back at work when you’d mentioned offhandedly to Simon how sore your chest was, the two of you lounging on the couch after supper, Rosie fast asleep in her crib, the long days at daycare exhausting her

“Tha’ so?” He’d asked, voice dropping lower than you’d heard it all night, his fingers tracing imaginary patterns across the bare skin of your shoulder. “Can’t have my birdy in pain, now can I?”

Whatever movie had been playing on the telly was long forgotten when Simon’s silent gaze met your own, wordlessly asking for permission as he slowly slid his fingers beneath the fabric of your top, all too enamoured with unwrapping you like a gift soon as you’d nodded to him

Up until that point, the extent of your physical relationship with Simon had been kept to heated makeouts in the front seat of his truck after dates, and heavy petting on the couch after supper, any opportunity to take things further always being thwarted by the little life that depended on you, or by Simon’s insane work schedule

You knew you were both eager to take things further, never quite finding the right moment, the right setting, the right time

But at that moment?

Well, as soon as Simon had your shirt thrown across the room, eyes locked with yours as his large, calloused hand slid up your sides to tenderly grab ahold of your enlarged breasts, thumbs carefully teasing your sensitive nipples, it was as though time stood still

Looking into Simon’s eyes then was like the universe finally granting you a moment of reprieve from the stress and the worries and the money and the work and all the things constantly running through your mind, as though the look in his gaze alone was all the permission you needed to slow down and just feel

Not just to feel, but to feel good

And good lord, did Simon Riley ever know how to make you feel good

As soon as his lips had wrapped around your taut nipple, yours were letting out gasps and moans that only served to rile him up further, sounds that had his tongue swirling all the slower across your sensitive skin

When your hands weren’t slinking through his short locks, they were pulling at the fabric of his own clothes, all but ripping them off of him until he picked you up without so much as a grunt of effort, carrying you towards your room until your back met the mattress

Simon tasted your skin as though it were the antidote he’d searched for all his life, the cure to all of his woes, your body a buffet while he was a man starved, his warm hands lovingly squeezing whatever bit of flesh he felt his mouth had neglected for too long, though not an inch of skin went untouched by him that night

Whether it had been his original intention or not was still up for debate, but when he’d been slathering and sucking at your nipples for long enough, you’d hardly had time to warn him before your milk had hit his tongue, the instantaneous groan of pleasure he let out having you believe it was his goal from the get go

You’d all but had to pry him off your breast, wiping a lone drop off the corner of his mouth before you were tasting yourself on his lips, tongues meeting in a dance they’d performed countless times before, though the energy in the room felt as though this was the inevitable performance you’d been building up to all along

“Simon.” You’d whispered to him between panting breaths, chests heaving as you fought to catch air, skin tingling every place his fingers roamed and explored, the both of you bare before one another for the first time

He’d looked at you with such reverence then, bordering on adoration if you were bold enough to say so, calloused palms handling you with such grace and care it threatened to bring tears to your eyes, the way he knelt before you as though the body that hardly felt like your own some days were an altar he would gladly pray at for the remainder of his days

“Are you ready, birdy?” He’d asked, planting gentle kiss upon kiss over every inch of your face, his strong forearms bracketing you in as he’d climbed above you, the mattress dipping down beneath your combined weight

“Please, Simon.” You answered, arms coming up to wrap around his neck, fingernails scratching at his skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake, pulling him in closer for a proper kiss, just as the tip of his throbbing member kissed your seeping entrance

You remember rolling your eyes in college, whenever you heard the boys referring to sex as ‘sliding into home’, as though the whole affair were nothing more than one big game to them, something for them to tally on their score sheets and compare amongst each other, teasing their mates who only made it to third base

But with Simon?

You couldn’t help but to compare this to the same feeling as coming home, when Simon slid into you for the first time, your combined groans echoing throughout the room, hands grasping at each other as though you keeping each other afloat in a stormy sea that was only picking up speed

It was as though you had danced this dance before, had felt each other’s embrace in a previous lifetime and remembered the steps without fault, the way you both moved in perfect rhythm and harmony, understanding your partner without so much as a word needing to be said, eyes saying everything you would ever need to know

No one else in the universe existed in that moment, apart from you and Simon, Simon and you

It was the early hours of the morning by the time you’d both exhausted yourselves and ruined the bedsheets, eternally grateful that the headboard banging against the wall hadn’t woken up your tiny roommate

“Will you stay?” You’d whispered to him as he held you, legs tangled together as the sheets barely covered you, his hand smoothing along your naked back as he pressed a kiss to your temple, tightening his hold on you

“For as long as you’ll have me, love.” He’d answered without hesitation, his deep voice catching on the last word

“Better make yourself comfortable then. Don’t think you’ll be going anywhere any time soon.”

Since that night, Simon had been staying over more and more frequently, your flat being closer to his job sites meant that sleeping over on occasional work nights just made sense, and you and Rosie were always more than content to have him there

Though presently? As he attempted none too gracefully to thread her flailing legs into a huge pumpkin, her cries of protest growing as his own voice tried to talk her through the process, urging her to give mama a smile as you laughed behind the camera at their antics, you knew she’d give him hell over these pictures one day

That very thought had your heart faltering, not wanting to set your hopes up too high too soon as your brain painted images of an older Rosie and Simon looking at these pictures in the future, the three of you still together years down the road

He had said for as long as you’d have him, didn’t he?

You wonder how forever would sound to him

November

He hasn’t had one in so long, that he’s momentarily stunned when it happens

Frozen in place, beads of sweat dripping from every pore of his body despite the chillier weather threatening to frost the windows over night, he doesn’t recognize where he is right away, your bedroom ceiling being one he’s only ever seen in better times, not a sight he’s used to seeing in the midst of a night terror

It feels as if every breath he fights to take only expels air from his shrinking lungs, unable to catch even a single relieving gasp, he begins to panic, kicking the sheets off of him in a hurry as his frantic eyes scan the room, intent on finding the threat he knows deep down isn’t there, but his brain convinces him is lurking around every corne

When he blinks next, your cold bathroom tiles are cooling his heated skin as he lays sprawled across them, the ringing in his ears louder than they’ve ever been before

He can’t bear to close his eyes too long, visions of spilled blood and unadulterated carnage flashing behind his eyelids, pain inflicted all too willingly by his own hands rippling through his core, a suffering like no other being inflicted upon him again and again each time he tries in vain to forget

His nightmares have changed recently

No longer does he picture himself at the end of a combatant’s AK, his skull beneath an enemy’s stomping foot, his throat the one bobbing against the edge of a razor sharp knife held against his oesophagus

Now, it’s you he sees, with a fear like no other shining in your eyes just before the light is taken from them forever, it’s you whose body he picks up from the wreckage, hardly recognizable from the awkward angles your broken and batters limbs point it, you whose death certificate he finds himself signing over and over and over again, a cruel trick of his imagination unlike any other

Tonight was worse than usual however, when he’d looked down at the corpse he’d been carrying in his arms, finding to his horror that his blood stained hands were holding the baby girl he’d come to know and love

He barely makes it to the toilet before he’s retching up everything in his stomach, the mere thought making him physically ill

That’s the worst part, isn’t it? That there is some truth to these nightmares

His hands are stained with blood each time he cradles Rosie, whether the violence is visibly etched into his skin or not, the same hands he holds both you girls with are the same ones that have slaughtered mercilessly, without hesitation, without consideration of whether that enemy had something like this waiting for him at home too, a family to hold

He knows this is his own doing, his mind having run rampant after your first fight last night

Well, fight might be a bit hyperbolic of him, an awkward disagreement at best, a scab he kept picking at until it threatened to bleed again

Just as he does any time things go well for him, any time things feel right, he just has to go and find a way to try and ruin it for himself, doesn’t he? His insecurities have been trying valiantly to poke their heads out and meet you head on, to pull the rug out from under you and expose himself for the liar he is, to shine the spotlight on every misdeed he’s ever committed and have you act as his judge, jury and executioner

Because what business did he have, asking you in the middle of Rosie’s bathtime, the both of you knelt by the tub as you giggled over bubble beards, if her dad was ever going to be showing his face about?

“Simon- she-,” you’d started awkwardly, the reddening of your cheeks and avoidance of his gaze having him feeling instantly guilty, though the subject had been one he’d never known how to address properly, how to bring up organically, as much as it spent time nagging away as his brain. “She doesn’t have a dad.”

“You’d gone to a clinic, then?” He’d asked, probing for any bit of confirmation that there wasn’t some other man roaming the streets out there, who could show up at any moment and lay claim to the home he was building for himself here? Whose measly DNA would hold more leverage over him, would bond him more legitimately to the two of you than he ever could?

“No. I- I didn’t go to a clinic.” You had insisted, pulling the stopper out of the tub and letting the water drain as you pulled Rosie out and wrapped her in a soft towel.

“Then she has a dad.” He had tried to reason, only just wanting to hear from you that no, there was no one else, no one was going to be taking this from him

“No, Simon. She doesn’t have a dad.” You’d snapped, turning your back to him as you dried off an all too happy Rosie, babbling away in your arms. “It was- it was a one time thing. I’d never met him before. I don’t even know his name so- look I’d rather not talk about this right now, okay?”

God, he was such an ass, wasn’t he?

He’d even let you kiss him tenderly that night, let you apologize for snapping at his question, let you explain that it was still a sensitive subject but that no, there was no other man in the picture, let you tell him that he was the closest thing to a dad Rosie knew

Though maybe it wasn’t the argument which had him paralyzed from fear in the en-suite right now, was it?

Perhaps it was more likely the stack of lies he laid upon each night was catching up to him? The prickly thorns of his deceit poking out to ensnare him in his guilt?

It’s not as though he’d gone and explicitly lied to your face recently, and none of his deceptions had ever come from a place of ill intent

But he knew all the same how upset you’d be if you realized the exorbitant daycare bill you received at the end of each month which made your eyes bulge out of their sockets, was only a fraction of the true cost? That the other portion of the fees were billed directly to him, yet another scheme he’d orchestrated without you realizing

He knew you were too proud, too headstrong to accept his money, despite his insistence that he had more than enough to share and that he wanted to provide for you and for Rosie

He knew you never wanted to feel as though you depended on him, as though you would owe him for his help, but birdy why couldn’t you see that he would never ask you for a single thing in return apart from what you already give him so freely?

He would never try to take your independence from you, your freedom, your stubborn pride, he only wants to help, to take away your worries and give them to himself instead, so that you can choose whether you go back to work or not, so that you can choose whether Rosie is ready for nursery or not, rather than being forced to decide

He can hear you beginning to stir in bed, his ears hyperaware of every noise in the flat despite the persisting tinnitus, knowing you’ll be up soon as reach for him and find the bed empty

He’s got to get his head straight, pull himself together, there is no threat, there are no enemies here, he’s safe, you’re safe, Rosie’s safe, and you’re all together

He’ll be damned if anything changes that

December

The stockings are lined by the fireplace, lights twinkling across the branches of the fir tree decorated top to bottom in ornaments of every shape and size, wrapped presents tucked away underneath the tree as Rosie sleeps without a care in her crib, an old Christmas movie softly playing in the background, but none of it matters right now, not when Simon’s presenting you with one of the most precious gifts he could ever bestow upon you

His story

Your legs are draped across his lap as you both sit on the couch, his fingers fidgeting with the fabric of your pants, running upon and down your calves, keeping his hands occupied as he struggles finds the right words, the right place to start, unable to meet your eyes as he hands his beating heart over to you, piece by broken piece

Your Christmas Eve dinner consisted of just the three of you in your flat, a warm homemade meal prepared together, an all too lengthy obligatory video chat with your family overseas to ooh and aah at Rosie in her Christmas jammies, a kiss or two under the mistletoe as you decorated the tree

There was nothing more you could have asked for

Well, perhaps other than asking what was on Simon’s mind all day

Because though he was present and engaged, you could tell him thoughts were elsewhere, his mind preoccupied with something that never quite rose to the surface, but was nevertheless visible beneath the waves

You’d been more than surprised when Simon sat you down on the couch after putting Rosie down for the night, holding your hand in his as he let out a deep sigh and told you that he wanted to tell you about his family

It was a subject you’d never dared broach with him, seeing as he’d never once brought them up to you

Though he’d never explicitly said so, you’d been able to discern that Simon used to work for the military, in whatever capacity you were unsure, but a former soldier at the very least

From the way he always stood a little straighter in public spaces, always positioned himself so he could see every exit and entrance, how his head was always on a swivel, looking over his shoulder, it was evident that Simon had a background that required him to watch his back

His diligence was one that might seem exaggerated now, but had clearly been the difference between a life or death situation at some point in his life before, and so you’d never questioned his quirks and habits, not even when he began having those nightmares you knew he thought he was keeping well hidden from you

But to now hear him confirm those suspicions? To lay himself bare before you in his most honest form and present to you his very heart and soul? It was almost too much to bear

You shared his anger and frustration as he told you of his turbulent childhood, joined him in his grief as he explained his mother and brother’s addiction, smiled with him as he remembered how he’d been able to help them out of their downward spiral, how he’d stood as best man in his brothers wedding, how he knew how to handle Rosie so easily from the get go because he’d held his own nephew from the day he was born

You cried with him as he told you of their fates, skimming over details without losing the harshness of their demises, how he himself had known nothing but pain and death and violence from that day forth, how his world had revolved around nothing more than killing and sleeping and killing, rinse and repeat for years upon years

You hugged him as he shared with you how lost he felt being discharged from service, how he had no idea where he would go from that point on, finding mediocre solace in the manual labour he poured himself into for months

That is, up until he met a pretty bird on the other side of the fence one day

You kissed him after he told you that he had hope now, that he wished for countless more Christmas Eve’s like this one tonight, consisting of little footie pyjamas and belly laughs and wrapping paper and bedtime stories and three stockings hung by the fireplace, because more than anything…

“I love you.” He whispers against your lips, your combined tears streaking across one another’s cheeks as neither of you are willing to pull away from the other, the world could be falling to ruins outside and neither of you would notice, your whole world here in this very room. “I love you. I love you. So much, birdy. I- I love you.”

“And I love you, Simon Riley. Every part of you. I love you.”

Though nothing had physically changed of course, you swear you could almost see how much lighter Simon felt that next morning, how a weight had been lifted off his shoulders as he held Rosie in one arm, keeping you close to him with the other, heaps of wrapping paper and ribbons and bows strewn across the floor as gifts piled around you three, not a single one of them worth more than what he already held in his arms

January

“I swear! Simon I’m not kidding, she just said it!”

“In the 30 seconds I was gone? Rubbish.”

“No I’m serious!” You giggle, playfully poking at his ribs before laughing louder once he lands a smack on your bum. “Come on baby, you can say it again. Mama. Mama! Go on Rosie, you’ve got it.”

“There’s no way, birdy.”

“Simon! Let her do it, I know she said it.”

“I know you want to believe she said it.” He says, a deep chuckle emanating from his chest when you land your own swat at his backside, Rosie watching all too intently from her high chair. “She’s just babbling, love.”

“Babbling is how talking starts, Si. First she’s babbling, next she’s stringing sounds together, next she’s talking our ear off night and day. But I know she said it just now, I’m not crazy.” You reason, undoing the safety buckles of her seat and lifting her up into your arms, slotting her against your hip as you go back to sitting on Simons lap at the dinner table, empty plates pushed aside as he wraps his strong arms around you both

“Alrigh’, well go on with it then Rosie girl. What’d your mum hear you say? Hm?” Simon plays along, running a loving finger down her soft, plump cheek, her mouth following the digit as tough it might be a tasty snack

“Aaaaah. Baaaaah. Aaamaa.” Rosie cooes, entirely pleased with the undivided attention she’s receiving from her two favourite people in the world

“See! She’s getting close.”

“Love,” Simon can’t help but to chuckle, pressing a kiss to your temple in good spirits. “All I heard was gibberish, I’m sorry.”

“Just listen close, she’s trying to say it. Come on Rosie, it’s mama. Ma-ma. Can you say it? Ma ma ma ma mama?” You coo back to her, sounding just like every corny parent you swore you’d never become, until you became a parent yourself

“You hearin’ yourself?” He asks, laughing at the pointerd stare you shoot in his direction. “Let me try then, hm?”

“Have at it.” You tell him, handing her off to him as you stand back up on your feet, heading around the corner of the hallway. “I’m gonna go check the laundry real quick.”

“Alrigh’ then, my baby bird. Your mum wants to hear you talk, hm? What’d you say? Want to make her real happy and say mama? Mama?”

“Mmmmma. Mmmmma!” Rosie replies to him, slobbery, chubby hands coming to tap at his stumbled cheeks in amusement

“Holy shit, you actually are tryin’ to say it.” He says in a mix of disbelief and pure amazement, watching intently as he little pink lips try to hard to form the sounds. “Go on Rosie.”

“Aaaaa. Aaaaa! Daaaaa!”

“Well now you’re just all over the place, swee’heart.”

“Daaaaa! Daaaadaaa! Dada!”

At that, Simon is certain his heart has stopped beating, eyes gone wide in surprise as he looks down at the squirming bundle of joy who’s still babbling away without a care

Dada

She’s just called him dada

Obviously, she has no idea what that word means, she’s only just strung together some sounds, like you’ve said, she doesn’t realize the significance of those noises she’s just made

But for Simon?

He’s not sure life will ever be the same again, barely acknowledging the tears that are pooling in his eyes as he brings Rosie closer to his chest, cradling her against him as though she might disappear in the blink of an eye, the feeling of her tiny heartbeat against his own a comforting rhythm he finds solace in

“Yeah, it’s me love.” He whispers into the crown of her head, all too aware of your form watching from around the corner with unshed tears on your lash line. “It’s your dada.”

February

You had told him Valentine’s Day had never been something you saw as being worth celebrating, nothing more worthwhile than exchanging cards and lollies in primary school and unnecessarily crying over in secondary when you were without a partner for the dance

Simon already bought you flowers more often than you could keep track of, he cooked meals for you, paid for dates, made love to you until you saw stars, loved your baby like she was his own, what more could you ask of him?

You’d insisted you didn’t want any fanfare, didn’t want anything more than him, and certainly didn’t want any presents

And so when you got home and found a small wrapped box on the kitchen table, you were a little peeved

“I hope you know I didn’t get you anything.” You mention, already feeling a tad guilty that you hadn’t bought anything for Simon on your first Valentine’s Day together, though you thought he’d been on the same page as you

“Good thing this isn’t just for you then.” He says, sliding the box closer to you and responding to your raised brow with a wink of his eye. “S’for the both of us. Well, three of us, technically.”

“Well now I’m intrigued.” You reply, dragging your fingernails through the wrapping until your palm held a small cardboard box, wondering if the box was empty it was so lightweight. Your brows scrunched in confusion as you lifted the top off the box, revealing its single content inside. “What’s this?”

“A key.”

“Well, yes thank you. I can tell it’s a key, doofus.” You give him a playful kick under the table, spinning the cold metal key between your fingers. “What’s it for?”

“Our place.”

“Our what?” You ask, more than a little bewildered now, wondering if maybe Simon forgot to wear his hard hat today and took a hit to the head. “Simon you already have a key to the flat.”

“I know. It’s not for this flat.” He says, reaching into his trouser pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper, the creases in the page appearing as though it had been folded and refolded many times over. “It’s for our new place.”

As he unfolds the paper and slides it towards you, the wires in your brain connect, a gasp leaving your lips as you nearly drop the key

“Simon, you didn’t…”

“I did.”

On the paper before you, lies the listing for a house you’d been eyeing for a long time now, only now the ink on the paper tells you that the house is no longer up for sale, but is instead under negotiation

As lovely as your flat had been when you were living as a single woman, it had become cramped once Rosie arrived, and had only gottten that much tighter once Simon started unofficially living here as well

If only for the fun of it, you’d spent time looking through larger flats in the area, none of them within your price range, and so you’d gone down the rabbit hole of looking at homes you decided you’d never be able to afford and kept coming back to one in particular

This one hit everything on your checklist, and more

It was in a great neighborhood, was close to Rosie’s nursery and potential future schools, wasn’t that far from your work, had lots of parks nearby, on top of being spacious enough to accommodate the three of you

You’d shown it to Simon one evening, offhandedly asking him what he thought about it, wanting to get his opinion to keep in mind when you looked through future listings that were more within your budget, never thinking that he’d been paying that much attention to it

Yet, lo and behold, here in your hand was what was apparently the key to your new home together

“Simon- I-”

“I know your instinct is likely to say no right now.” Simon began, jumping in before you could start. “And I get it. I did this without askin’ you. But- love you should’ve seen your face when you showed me this place. I’ve watched you go back to this listing more than you realize. I’m already here practically every night, eventually Rosie’s gonna start walkin’ and we’ll need more space for her. This one’s got a great backyard righ’? I’ll build her a swing in the back, teach her to ride a bike out front. We could walk her in the pram to nursery on nice days, it’s so close by. We’d be able to-”

His own rambling is cut off, when you all but leap across the table to grab him by his collar and slant your lips over his

“Yes.” You say simply, pulling back to meet his loving gaze, leaning into the warm hand he’s brought up to cradle your cheek

“Yes?” He whispers back to you

“Yes.”

“I love you, birdy.”

“And I love you, Simon.”

It’s only a few weeks later, as you’re on your way to pick up Rosie from daycare, that the paperwork is finalized, the home officially yours, Simon’s and Rosie’s

Your first place together

Giddy with excitement, you make a quick pit stop by their office before slipping into Rosie’s class to get her, knowing it’ll be a lot trickier to speak with Emma once you’ve got your squirmy girl in your arms, always too ready to go home

You were on good terms with all of the staff at Rosie’s daycare, even the educators who weren’t in Rosie’s program, but you’d become actual friends with their assistant director over time, Emma, finding you had quite a bit in common, including your love for Rosie

It wasn’t so easy to maintain all of your old friendships since becoming a mum, your best friend sticking with you through thick and thin, though others had slowly dwindled over time, and so finding an unlikely friendship at Rosie’s nursery was a welcome surprise

“Hey! Was hoping you’d be here.” You say cheerfully, poking your head into Emma’s office, finding her sat behind the desk

“Oh hey you. Pfft, when am I not here?” She joked, shutting her laptop and giving you her full attention. “Coming to pick up the girly girl?”

“Yeah, just wanted to update some info with you first, if that’s okay.”

“Oh, well yeah. Of course. Come on in. What’s up?” She says, gesturing towards the chair across from her for you to take

“Our address is actually going be changing soon.”

“Oh my gosh! That place you were telling me Simon got?” She asks with surprise evident on her features

“Yes! The offer he put in went through and it’s officially ours now. Not sure when moving date will be quite yet, but I wanted to update you sooner than later.”

“Of course, that’s so exciting.” She replies, opening her computer back up and starting to type away

“And I figure it’s probably about time we add him as a contact as well. Or caregiver, whatever you prefer to call it.” You mention, reasoning that there are likely going to be times now where Simon might drop her off or pick her up by himself, and that they’ll need him on the list of approved caregivers

“Ha. Could you imagine? He only gets added now?” She laughs, still typing away at her computer.

“Hehe, yeah well, there might just be days where I can’t pick her up in time and so he’ll step in.” You add awkwardly, a bit confused by her reaction

“Right well, he’s clear to do so any time that might come up.” She assures you, giving you her own strange look now

“Wouldn’t you need him to be on her caregiver list first, though? I thought that was part of the policies, having the approved contacts?”

“Wait, sorry what? What are we talking about right now?”

“Adding Simon as one of her caregivers? I mean, I know it’s not ‘official’ or anything, officially moving in together isn’t a marriage proposal, but he’s still like a dad to her, is he not able to be added to the list?”

“Sorry- is- are you saying Simon isn’t Rosie’s dad?” She asks, her expression one of utter confusion

“What? No. No, of course he’s not her dad. I mean, not technically but in every way that matters yes. That can’t actually make a difference in having him be an approved pick up, can it?”

“He-” she begins, giving you an odd look as she spins her laptop around to face towards you now, the screen displaying Rosie’s contact information. “He’s already on there, babe. He’s been on there since day one.”

“Wait, what?”

Oh what an ending! Many, many more good things to come with these two, I promise. Simon just has to pay a little first, okay? Next chapter is already in the works!

As always your patience, support, comments and messages in my inbox mean more to me than you could ever know! It’s been a tough month personally and writing is an outlet I find so much joy in so it really does mean a lot when my work resonates with others

- M 🫶🏻

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[readwritealldayallnight]

Bird Watching

Construction Worker!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x single mom!reader

‘Birds of a feather,

We should stick together, I know,

I said I’d never,

Think I wasn’t better alone’

Part one (2.3k words)

Part two (2.4K words)

Part three (3.6k words)

Part four (4.5k words)

Part five (6.3k words)

Part six (8.8k words)

Part seven (coming soon)

‘I knew you in another life,

You had that same look in your eyes,

I love you,

Don’t act so surprised’

[readwritealldayallnight]

Part Six of ‘Bird Watching’ aka hot construction worker Simon x single mom reader

September

Few things in life have come easy to Simon Riley

Growing up, his home life had not been an easy one, feeling as though he were walking on egg shells throughout every step of his turbulent childhood, waking from his nightmares only to discover he lived under the same roof as one

Enlisting straight out of secondary school hadn’t been a difficult process, though going from the tall scrawny kid he had been to the mountain of a man he’d had to become had been no easy feat either, a combination of blood, sweat and tears along with years upon years of intense training had resulted in a hardened military man the SAS was all too happy to claim for themselves

Retiring from the job he’d grown certain he would die doing, now that had been far from easy for the Lieutenant

An honourable discharge is what they had called it, handing him a thick stack of papers one day when he felt they might as well as have slapped him across the face instead

He could have fought it, was legally within his rights to appeal the decision and voice his disagreement before the board, could have tried to have it overturned

And yet, it was just as true that the four letters popping up off the paper to mock him held a flame of truth to their drying ink: PTSD

At first, he’d almost thought it worse, the fact that they agreed there was nothing wrong with him physically, that his body, as beaten and battered as it had been, had always bounced back and been able to keep up with the job, but that now it was his mind they had decided they could no longer put their trust into

But worst of all? His own captain, a man he considered to be more of a father figure than his own flesh and blood had ever been to him, someone who’d saved his skin more times than he could ever hope to count, let alone repay, was unable to meet his eyes when asked if he disagreed

To say that he had anything short of furious at first would be an understatement, he’d felt betrayed by the very organization he’d sworn his life to, had been willing to lay his life down for, had killed for time and time again, and now that a few screws in his head were supposedly coming loose, they wanted nothing to do with him anymore? They were so ready and willing to throw him back onto the streets he’d once come from?

Price had known the forced retirement was going to be a tough blow to his Lieutenant, that it would mean uprooting the only life he’d decided he was deserving of, that he would have to start over entirely without a single soul to stand by him

The captain had done his best in reassuring him that this needn’t be a bad thing, that this could be an opportunity for Simon to truly start over in a positive way, that there was hope out there for him if he would only just allow himself the chance to have it

Knowing his Lieutenant better than most ever would, Price knew his words of wisdom were in one ear and out the other, swearing to the younger man that he would check up on him periodically, as often as the job would allow, but that he should do his best to avoid sitting idly for too long, perhaps find work that kept both his hands and mind busy

As difficult as it all was, time refused to stand still and let him catch his breath, to gather his bearings, already it had been nearly a year off the battlefield and on the construction sites instead

But this?

Your arm tucked into his much larger one as he pushes the pram, your other hand occupied with the ice cream cone you take turns giving him licks of, all because he noticed you eyeing the ice cream truck on the walk home from the park?

Well this, this for Simon is easy

And though he’s decided he has a new disdain for ice cream men who keep their prices jacked up so high even as the last bits of summer cling to the warm breeze as the days roll by, he knows he’d pay whatever exorbitant price it cost to put a smile on your face

“Want another lick?” You ask him, holding the cone up to his lips again for him to have a taste, the early September heat still warm enough that the treat is threatening to melt onto your hands

He savours his bite, never faltering in his steps as he pushes along a sleeping Rosie in her pram, the visor pulled down to keep her eyes safe from the afternoon sun

It’s been weeks of this now, this blissful little bubble the three of you have been floating in

You’d recovered from your illness in no time once you had allowed Simon to take on some of the workload and help you to recuperate, Rosie being the team player she is, had even taken her first ever bottle from Simon, an honour he’d proudly wear on his chest over any other medal he could have ever received during his time in service

Since then, things have so seamlessly fallen into place, it was as though this were always the inevitable conclusion that was bound to happen

He’s enjoyed watching you blush each time he holds a door open for you, whenever he calls you love or birdy, when he slings an arm around over your shoulders or around your waist, but especially that time when he asked the waitress if his girlfriend could have a refill on her water

He’s felt his heart skip a beat each time you laugh at one of his jokes, whenever he catches you staring and you tell him that it’s because he’s handsome, when you stand on tip toes to kiss his cheek or reach a hand out to hold his, but especially when you land your lips over his own waiting ones

In lieu of the night terrors he’s grown used to, he’s now been waking up with the image of your smiling face tucked beneath his eyelids each morning, and going to sleep is no longer a dreaded affair at night with you as his last waking thought

He’s been loving every moment he gets to spend with you, learning more about you each day, discovering what puts a grin on your lips and what makes you squirm, finding out what your dreams are and what keeps you up at night, picking up on your habits and quirks and storing them into the recesses of his brain for safekeeping

He adores the time he spends with Rosie too, a tiny version of her mum who has this behemoth of a man wrapped around her pudgy little fingers, he finds his mind has never felt calmer than when he has you both by his side

Despite everything, Simon finds that he’s … happy

Unequivocally, incomparably, unbelievably happy

He knows he loves you, loves Rosie as well, likely has loved you from the very start, and though the idea of saying such a thing out loud undoubtedly fills him with a sense of fear, a dread that’s been ingrained in him for decades if not from birth, it isn’t as overwhelming anymore, isn’t as terrifying as it could be or even should be

Because even though each time he looks in the mirror he sees a reflection of a man whom he considers to be anything but good, a soldier still plagued with nightmares and regrets from the borderline barbaric things he’s done over the years all in the name of duty, whatever it is you see when you look at him, he wants to be that man, wants to find that same man in the mirror one day you’re so certain is already in front of you

For now, all he can do is keep trying

“Shoot. Probably should’ve grabbed more napkins.” Your voice brings him back down to earth, snaps his mind back to reality, spotting the trickle of chocolate ice cream streaming down over your fingers as you finish the last bite

Well, he did say he’d try to be a good man, not a perfect man, he thinks to himself as he watches your tongue poke out from behind your lips, licking up the frozen treat’s trail across your digits, biting down on his own tongue to stop himself from offering assistance

“Am I all clean?” You ask, tilting your head around to give him a better look at your face

“Hold on,” Simon tells you, halting his stroll as he turns towards you, reaching with a careful hand to cup your soft cheek. “Got somethin’ righ’ here.”

Leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth, he lets his tongue run along your lips, catching the last remnants of chocolate left there, unable to hide the grin splayed on his own lips when he pulls back and meets your mischevious look with one of his own

“Cheeky.” You mumble to him, hiding both your smile and reddening cheeks as you duck your head down to glance at the still sleeping baby before you

Oh love, you have no idea

“Okay, well how ‘bout Friday? After work?”

“Hm, depends what time I’ll be finishin’ up that day. Likely it’ll go on late, I wouldn’t want to leave you waitin’ for me, love.”

“Saturday?”

“If I can get to everythin’ I need to get done by then, shouldn’t have to go in on the weekend.”

“As if they’re even making you work on weekends, with how hard you work already.”

“No one’s makin’ me go in, love.” Simon replies, stretching his arms above his head before slipping his jacket on. “It’s me who wants to see this job through. Besides, it’s only the finishing touches at this point, place’s nearly finished. Reckon Rosie’s gon’ be startin’ up pretty soon.”

“Oh, I know. Ugh, I don’t even want to talk about it. I’m not ready to let her go yet.” You pout, trying to be playful despite the honesty to your words.

The idea of leaving your baby in someone else’s care had seemed like such a far off idea when she’d first been born, something you’d have to do when the time came and money wouldn’t allow you to stay home any longer

But now that that date in question was rapidly approaching, you couldn’t help but to feel torn, divided between who you were before she was born, and this new reality where you were still expected to be that person while simultaneously revolving your entire existence around Rosie’s wellbeing

You wish you could just slow time down, hold onto her a little longer, soak in these priceless days and memories while ignoring your dwindling bank account

If only it were that simple…

“She’ll be alrigh’, swee’heart.” Simon tries his best to reassure you, ignoring the boots he’d been about to slip on an stepping closer to you, sliding a hand in between your shoulder blades. “An’ you can always think o’ my offer. No pressure, o’ course.”

As if you hadn’t been thinking about it constantly to begin with

Simon Riley, in the truest knight in shining armour fashion you’d come to know from him since day one, had made a suggestion over dinner the other day that had caught you off guard, an offer all too good to logically refuse

The two of you had been talking about the nursery yet again, your financial worries inevitably coming up as they went hand in hand with your need to get Rosie enrolled sooner than later, lest the lights get shut off or your water turned off before then

Simon had asked you how long you’d stay home with her if it were truly up to you, if money weren’t part of the equation and you didn’t need to go back to work

Of course, you’d thought about it before, hopelessly wishing you could keep her with you until she was perhaps a year old, at least at an age where you wouldn’t be risking the chance of missing out on so many of her milestones and development

None too awkwardly, Simon had brought up the fact that he’d worked another job before construction, one that had supposedly paid him quite well, meaning he had more money laying around then he knew what to do with

You’d been taken aback when he’d offered to pay whatever bills were preventing you from staying home with Rosie until you felt ready to go back to work, not as a loan or as a favour, certainly not something to hold over your head, but just as something he felt was right, something he felt both you and Rosie deserved

You hadn’t known what to say then, and you were still unsure of how to respond now, the idea being a very lovely and undoubtedly generous one, if not a daunting one

But things between you and Simon were still so new, so fresh, you wanted to continue exploring this relationship and see where things would lead, secretly harbouring hope that this would be the last first kiss you ever had, the last time you called someone your boyfriend before perhaps calling him something more serious, and to bring money into that equation, was scary

You’d witnessed numerous relationships gone wrong over finances, too many couples holding money over their partners head as leverage, and though your trusted Simon’s word that he genuinely wanted to share his with you out of the kindness of his heart, you couldn’t help the sentiment that you would feel as though you always owed him for it

Yes, it would have been a quick fix to the dilemma you were in, an instant solution to the worries that had been plaguing you for months now, but would you rather that, or potentially jeopardize what you and Simon are starting to build here?

And so you’d told him you would think about it, and think about it you did, over and over and over, and each time you came to the same conclusion; you just couldn’t take his money

“I’ll think about it, yeah.” You whispered, leaning farther into his touch. “In the meantime you think about what day is going to work for you and I’ll let the sitter know.”

As if she knew precisely that you were planning an outing without her, Rosie began grumbling in your arms, straining out of your hold and leaning into Simon just as you were

“Well hey there miss Rosie,” he chuckled deeply, large hands reaching out to pick her up effortlessly, the sight of him holding your baby one that never failed to make you go weak in the knees. “No fussin’ now, alrigh’? We’ve had lots o’ date wit’ ya, and we’ll have more to come. But I’d like to spend some time with your mum too, ya know?”

“As if she doesn’t get jealous enough already.” You laughed, thinking of how your little two month old likes to protest any time the both of you aren’t holding her. It makes your heart swell, to think of how quickly she’s taken to Simon, and though you know she’s just an infant, you like to imagine it’s because she’s a good judge of character

He’s only been in her life for a short period of time, but the bond those two are forming is undeniable, hell there are some times you’ll glance at him holding her and swear she’s starting to look like him

“She just knows what she likes, don’t you lil’ miss?” Simon asks, his fingers running down her belly to tickle her, the both of you entranced by the grin she gives him, her smiles growing larger and more frequent with each passing day

The both of your freeze in place however, utterly awestruck by the new sound ringing out throughout your flat, a noise that is nothing short of music to your ears

“Did- did she just laugh?” You ask, your own lips stretching into an amused grin as you watch her. “Simon! Holy shi- she just laughed right?”

“She did.” Simon whispers back to you, eyes locked on Rosie’s still smiling expression, small coos coming from her now as her gaze flits between the two of you

“Oh my gosh! That was her first laugh ever!” You can’t help but to laugh yourself, smoothing your hands down her soft head, landing a loving kiss on her forehead as you lean into Simon’s arm

“Really?” He asks, glancing at you with an expression that makes your heart stop, the utter joy in his eyes enough to make your breath catch in your throat, seeing him love your baby so effortlessly.

“Yeah, really.”

“Well in that case Rosie,” He says, forgetting the fact that he’d been about to slip his shoes on and head home, ignoring that he has to be on the job site in less than nine hours, as he makes his way towards your couch, eyes never straying from the bundle in his arms as you sit next to him. “I’ve got a few jokes to run by ya. D’ya like goldfish?”

October

“I dunno, love.”

“Oh, but the pictures would be so cute! Maybe if one of us is holding her up from behind? Would that work?”

“Well hold on, let me cut the leg holes a bit wider, just wanna make sure she’s alrigh’.”

“She is getting pretty chunky on us, isn’t she?” You ask, shifting your hold on Rosie as you switch her to your other hip. “Aren’t you lil’ miss?”

With less than a week to go until Rosie’s first Halloween, you were keen on getting some cute photos of her to celebrate, your family constantly asking for updates and pictures of her

Watching his facial expressions, you’d had trouble keeping a straight face on as you explained to Simon your vision of carving a jack-o-lantern so that Rosie could squeeze her chubby little legs and bottom inside, inspired by pictures you’d seen somewhere or another of smiling babies sat in pumpkins

He’d been skeptical at first, but could never turn you down, especially when you were so excited about trying it at least

“I’d hope so, seein’ how she never stops eatin’.” He chuckles setting the carving knife down to give her bare foot a squeeze, his smile widening as she offers her own little giggle in response. “Wonder what she’ll think o’ real food when the time comes.”

“I’m thinking she’ll probably be a fan. Either way my tits will be very grateful for the break. They’re always so sore.”

“A dilemma I’m happy to help with.” Simon’s gaze meets your own for a moment before you’re both averting your eyes elsewhere, deep blushes staining your cheeks as you can’t help but to recall the way he’d ‘helped’ your aching chest just the other day

It’s been a few weeks now since Rosie officially started nursery, a bittersweet change to say the least, though your work had been gracious enough to allow you to slowly ease back into the job, starting off only part time so that Rosie’s transition away from you wasn’t so jarring

It shattered your heart each and every time you had to drop her off and she would bawl her little eyes out, but slowly she was adjusting, growing used to the new faces and new routine, including not being able to feed off of you on demand

If anything she was taking everything in stride much better than you were

You were emotional, physically at work but mentally still with Rosie, wondering if she was okay, if this was the right decision to be making, not to mention that your body was still producing milk as if she was still attached to your hip 24 hours a day

It was just after your first full week back at work when you’d mentioned offhandedly to Simon how sore your chest was, the two of you lounging on the couch after supper, Rosie fast asleep in her crib, the long days at daycare exhausting her

“Tha’ so?” He’d asked, voice dropping lower than you’d heard it all night, his fingers tracing imaginary patterns across the bare skin of your shoulder. “Can’t have my birdy in pain, now can I?”

Whatever movie had been playing on the telly was long forgotten when Simon’s silent gaze met your own, wordlessly asking for permission as he slowly slid his fingers beneath the fabric of your top, all too enamoured with unwrapping you like a gift soon as you’d nodded to him

Up until that point, the extent of your physical relationship with Simon had been kept to heated makeouts in the front seat of his truck after dates, and heavy petting on the couch after supper, any opportunity to take things further always being thwarted by the little life that depended on you, or by Simon’s insane work schedule

You knew you were both eager to take things further, never quite finding the right moment, the right setting, the right time

But at that moment?

Well, as soon as Simon had your shirt thrown across the room, eyes locked with yours as his large, calloused hand slid up your sides to tenderly grab ahold of your enlarged breasts, thumbs carefully teasing your sensitive nipples, it was as though time stood still

Looking into Simon’s eyes then was like the universe finally granting you a moment of reprieve from the stress and the worries and the money and the work and all the things constantly running through your mind, as though the look in his gaze alone was all the permission you needed to slow down and just feel

Not just to feel, but to feel good

And good lord, did Simon Riley ever know how to make you feel good

As soon as his lips had wrapped around your taut nipple, yours were letting out gasps and moans that only served to rile him up further, sounds that had his tongue swirling all the slower across your sensitive skin

When your hands weren’t slinking through his short locks, they were pulling at the fabric of his own clothes, all but ripping them off of him until he picked you up without so much as a grunt of effort, carrying you towards your room until your back met the mattress

Simon tasted your skin as though it were the antidote he’d searched for all his life, the cure to all of his woes, your body a buffet while he was a man starved, his warm hands lovingly squeezing whatever bit of flesh he felt his mouth had neglected for too long, though not an inch of skin went untouched by him that night

Whether it had been his original intention or not was still up for debate, but when he’d been slathering and sucking at your nipples for long enough, you’d hardly had time to warn him before your milk had hit his tongue, the instantaneous groan of pleasure he let out having you believe it was his goal from the get go

You’d all but had to pry him off your breast, wiping a lone drop off the corner of his mouth before you were tasting yourself on his lips, tongues meeting in a dance they’d performed countless times before, though the energy in the room felt as though this was the inevitable performance you’d been building up to all along

“Simon.” You’d whispered to him between panting breaths, chests heaving as you fought to catch air, skin tingling every place his fingers roamed and explored, the both of you bare before one another for the first time

He’d looked at you with such reverence then, bordering on adoration if you were bold enough to say so, calloused palms handling you with such grace and care it threatened to bring tears to your eyes, the way he knelt before you as though the body that hardly felt like your own some days were an altar he would gladly pray at for the remainder of his days

“Are you ready, birdy?” He’d asked, planting gentle kiss upon kiss over every inch of your face, his strong forearms bracketing you in as he’d climbed above you, the mattress dipping down beneath your combined weight

“Please, Simon.” You answered, arms coming up to wrap around his neck, fingernails scratching at his skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake, pulling him in closer for a proper kiss, just as the tip of his throbbing member kissed your seeping entrance

You remember rolling your eyes in college, whenever you heard the boys referring to sex as ‘sliding into home’, as though the whole affair were nothing more than one big game to them, something for them to tally on their score sheets and compare amongst each other, teasing their mates who only made it to third base

But with Simon?

You couldn’t help but to compare this to the same feeling as coming home, when Simon slid into you for the first time, your combined groans echoing throughout the room, hands grasping at each other as though you keeping each other afloat in a stormy sea that was only picking up speed

It was as though you had danced this dance before, had felt each other’s embrace in a previous lifetime and remembered the steps without fault, the way you both moved in perfect rhythm and harmony, understanding your partner without so much as a word needing to be said, eyes saying everything you would ever need to know

No one else in the universe existed in that moment, apart from you and Simon, Simon and you

It was the early hours of the morning by the time you’d both exhausted yourselves and ruined the bedsheets, eternally grateful that the headboard banging against the wall hadn’t woken up your tiny roommate

“Will you stay?” You’d whispered to him as he held you, legs tangled together as the sheets barely covered you, his hand smoothing along your naked back as he pressed a kiss to your temple, tightening his hold on you

“For as long as you’ll have me, love.” He’d answered without hesitation, his deep voice catching on the last word

“Better make yourself comfortable then. Don’t think you’ll be going anywhere any time soon.”

Since that night, Simon had been staying over more and more frequently, your flat being closer to his job sites meant that sleeping over on occasional work nights just made sense, and you and Rosie were always more than content to have him there

Though presently? As he attempted none too gracefully to thread her flailing legs into a huge pumpkin, her cries of protest growing as his own voice tried to talk her through the process, urging her to give mama a smile as you laughed behind the camera at their antics, you knew she’d give him hell over these pictures one day

That very thought had your heart faltering, not wanting to set your hopes up too high too soon as your brain painted images of an older Rosie and Simon looking at these pictures in the future, the three of you still together years down the road

He had said for as long as you’d have him, didn’t he?

You wonder how forever would sound to him

November

He hasn’t had one in so long, that he’s momentarily stunned when it happens

Frozen in place, beads of sweat dripping from every pore of his body despite the chillier weather threatening to frost the windows over night, he doesn’t recognize where he is right away, your bedroom ceiling being one he’s only ever seen in better times, not a sight he’s used to seeing in the midst of a night terror

It feels as if every breath he fights to take only expels air from his shrinking lungs, unable to catch even a single relieving gasp, he begins to panic, kicking the sheets off of him in a hurry as his frantic eyes scan the room, intent on finding the threat he knows deep down isn’t there, but his brain convinces him is lurking around every corne

When he blinks next, your cold bathroom tiles are cooling his heated skin as he lays sprawled across them, the ringing in his ears louder than they’ve ever been before

He can’t bear to close his eyes too long, visions of spilled blood and unadulterated carnage flashing behind his eyelids, pain inflicted all too willingly by his own hands rippling through his core, a suffering like no other being inflicted upon him again and again each time he tries in vain to forget

His nightmares have changed recently

No longer does he picture himself at the end of a combatant’s AK, his skull beneath an enemy’s stomping foot, his throat the one bobbing against the edge of a razor sharp knife held against his oesophagus

Now, it’s you he sees, with a fear like no other shining in your eyes just before the light is taken from them forever, it’s you whose body he picks up from the wreckage, hardly recognizable from the awkward angles your broken and batters limbs point it, you whose death certificate he finds himself signing over and over and over again, a cruel trick of his imagination unlike any other

Tonight was worse than usual however, when he’d looked down at the corpse he’d been carrying in his arms, finding to his horror that his blood stained hands were holding the baby girl he’d come to know and love

He barely makes it to the toilet before he’s retching up everything in his stomach, the mere thought making him physically ill

That’s the worst part, isn’t it? That there is some truth to these nightmares

His hands are stained with blood each time he cradles Rosie, whether the violence is visibly etched into his skin or not, the same hands he holds both you girls with are the same ones that have slaughtered mercilessly, without hesitation, without consideration of whether that enemy had something like this waiting for him at home too, a family to hold

He knows this is his own doing, his mind having run rampant after your first fight last night

Well, fight might be a bit hyperbolic of him, an awkward disagreement at best, a scab he kept picking at until it threatened to bleed again

Just as he does any time things go well for him, any time things feel right, he just has to go and find a way to try and ruin it for himself, doesn’t he? His insecurities have been trying valiantly to poke their heads out and meet you head on, to pull the rug out from under you and expose himself for the liar he is, to shine the spotlight on every misdeed he’s ever committed and have you act as his judge, jury and executioner

Because what business did he have, asking you in the middle of Rosie’s bathtime, the both of you knelt by the tub as you giggled over bubble beards, if her dad was ever going to be showing his face about?

“Simon- she-,” you’d started awkwardly, the reddening of your cheeks and avoidance of his gaze having him feeling instantly guilty, though the subject had been one he’d never known how to address properly, how to bring up organically, as much as it spent time nagging away as his brain. “She doesn’t have a dad.”

“You’d gone to a clinic, then?” He’d asked, probing for any bit of confirmation that there wasn’t some other man roaming the streets out there, who could show up at any moment and lay claim to the home he was building for himself here? Whose measly DNA would hold more leverage over him, would bond him more legitimately to the two of you than he ever could?

“No. I- I didn’t go to a clinic.” You had insisted, pulling the stopper out of the tub and letting the water drain as you pulled Rosie out and wrapped her in a soft towel.

“Then she has a dad.” He had tried to reason, only just wanting to hear from you that no, there was no one else, no one was going to be taking this from him

“No, Simon. She doesn’t have a dad.” You’d snapped, turning your back to him as you dried off an all too happy Rosie, babbling away in your arms. “It was- it was a one time thing. I’d never met him before. I don’t even know his name so- look I’d rather not talk about this right now, okay?”

God, he was such an ass, wasn’t he?

He’d even let you kiss him tenderly that night, let you apologize for snapping at his question, let you explain that it was still a sensitive subject but that no, there was no other man in the picture, let you tell him that he was the closest thing to a dad Rosie knew

Though maybe it wasn’t the argument which had him paralyzed from fear in the en-suite right now, was it?

Perhaps it was more likely the stack of lies he laid upon each night was catching up to him? The prickly thorns of his deceit poking out to ensnare him in his guilt?

It’s not as though he’d gone and explicitly lied to your face recently, and none of his deceptions had ever come from a place of ill intent

But he knew all the same how upset you’d be if you realized the exorbitant daycare bill you received at the end of each month which made your eyes bulge out of their sockets, was only a fraction of the true cost? That the other portion of the fees were billed directly to him, yet another scheme he’d orchestrated without you realizing

He knew you were too proud, too headstrong to accept his money, despite his insistence that he had more than enough to share and that he wanted to provide for you and for Rosie

He knew you never wanted to feel as though you depended on him, as though you would owe him for his help, but birdy why couldn’t you see that he would never ask you for a single thing in return apart from what you already give him so freely?

He would never try to take your independence from you, your freedom, your stubborn pride, he only wants to help, to take away your worries and give them to himself instead, so that you can choose whether you go back to work or not, so that you can choose whether Rosie is ready for nursery or not, rather than being forced to decide

He can hear you beginning to stir in bed, his ears hyperaware of every noise in the flat despite the persisting tinnitus, knowing you’ll be up soon as reach for him and find the bed empty

He’s got to get his head straight, pull himself together, there is no threat, there are no enemies here, he’s safe, you’re safe, Rosie’s safe, and you’re all together

He’ll be damned if anything changes that

December

The stockings are lined by the fireplace, lights twinkling across the branches of the fir tree decorated top to bottom in ornaments of every shape and size, wrapped presents tucked away underneath the tree as Rosie sleeps without a care in her crib, an old Christmas movie softly playing in the background, but none of it matters right now, not when Simon’s presenting you with one of the most precious gifts he could ever bestow upon you

His story

Your legs are draped across his lap as you both sit on the couch, his fingers fidgeting with the fabric of your pants, running upon and down your calves, keeping his hands occupied as he struggles finds the right words, the right place to start, unable to meet your eyes as he hands his beating heart over to you, piece by broken piece

Your Christmas Eve dinner consisted of just the three of you in your flat, a warm homemade meal prepared together, an all too lengthy obligatory video chat with your family overseas to ooh and aah at Rosie in her Christmas jammies, a kiss or two under the mistletoe as you decorated the tree

There was nothing more you could have asked for

Well, perhaps other than asking what was on Simon’s mind all day

Because though he was present and engaged, you could tell him thoughts were elsewhere, his mind preoccupied with something that never quite rose to the surface, but was nevertheless visible beneath the waves

You’d been more than surprised when Simon sat you down on the couch after putting Rosie down for the night, holding your hand in his as he let out a deep sigh and told you that he wanted to tell you about his family

It was a subject you’d never dared broach with him, seeing as he’d never once brought them up to you

Though he’d never explicitly said so, you’d been able to discern that Simon used to work for the military, in whatever capacity you were unsure, but a former soldier at the very least

From the way he always stood a little straighter in public spaces, always positioned himself so he could see every exit and entrance, how his head was always on a swivel, looking over his shoulder, it was evident that Simon had a background that required him to watch his back

His diligence was one that might seem exaggerated now, but had clearly been the difference between a life or death situation at some point in his life before, and so you’d never questioned his quirks and habits, not even when he began having those nightmares you knew he thought he was keeping well hidden from you

But to now hear him confirm those suspicions? To lay himself bare before you in his most honest form and present to you his very heart and soul? It was almost too much to bear

You shared his anger and frustration as he told you of his turbulent childhood, joined him in his grief as he explained his mother and brother’s addiction, smiled with him as he remembered how he’d been able to help them out of their downward spiral, how he’d stood as best man in his brothers wedding, how he knew how to handle Rosie so easily from the get go because he’d held his own nephew from the day he was born

You cried with him as he told you of their fates, skimming over details without losing the harshness of their demises, how he himself had known nothing but pain and death and violence from that day forth, how his world had revolved around nothing more than killing and sleeping and killing, rinse and repeat for years upon years

You hugged him as he shared with you how lost he felt being discharged from service, how he had no idea where he would go from that point on, finding mediocre solace in the manual labour he poured himself into for months

That is, up until he met a pretty bird on the other side of the fence one day

You kissed him after he told you that he had hope now, that he wished for countless more Christmas Eve’s like this one tonight, consisting of little footie pyjamas and belly laughs and wrapping paper and bedtime stories and three stockings hung by the fireplace, because more than anything…

“I love you.” He whispers against your lips, your combined tears streaking across one another’s cheeks as neither of you are willing to pull away from the other, the world could be falling to ruins outside and neither of you would notice, your whole world here in this very room. “I love you. I love you. So much, birdy. I- I love you.”

“And I love you, Simon Riley. Every part of you. I love you.”

Though nothing had physically changed of course, you swear you could almost see how much lighter Simon felt that next morning, how a weight had been lifted off his shoulders as he held Rosie in one arm, keeping you close to him with the other, heaps of wrapping paper and ribbons and bows strewn across the floor as gifts piled around you three, not a single one of them worth more than what he already held in his arms

January

“I swear! Simon I’m not kidding, she just said it!”

“In the 30 seconds I was gone? Rubbish.”

“No I’m serious!” You giggle, playfully poking at his ribs before laughing louder once he lands a smack on your bum. “Come on baby, you can say it again. Mama. Mama! Go on Rosie, you’ve got it.”

“There’s no way, birdy.”

“Simon! Let her do it, I know she said it.”

“I know you want to believe she said it.” He says, a deep chuckle emanating from his chest when you land your own swat at his backside, Rosie watching all too intently from her high chair. “She’s just babbling, love.”

“Babbling is how talking starts, Si. First she’s babbling, next she’s stringing sounds together, next she’s talking our ear off night and day. But I know she said it just now, I’m not crazy.” You reason, undoing the safety buckles of her seat and lifting her up into your arms, slotting her against your hip as you go back to sitting on Simons lap at the dinner table, empty plates pushed aside as he wraps his strong arms around you both

“Alrigh’, well go on with it then Rosie girl. What’d your mum hear you say? Hm?” Simon plays along, running a loving finger down her soft, plump cheek, her mouth following the digit as tough it might be a tasty snack

“Aaaaah. Baaaaah. Aaamaa.” Rosie cooes, entirely pleased with the undivided attention she’s receiving from her two favourite people in the world

“See! She’s getting close.”

“Love,” Simon can’t help but to chuckle, pressing a kiss to your temple in good spirits. “All I heard was gibberish, I’m sorry.”

“Just listen close, she’s trying to say it. Come on Rosie, it’s mama. Ma-ma. Can you say it? Ma ma ma ma mama?” You coo back to her, sounding just like every corny parent you swore you’d never become, until you became a parent yourself

“You hearin’ yourself?” He asks, laughing at the pointerd stare you shoot in his direction. “Let me try then, hm?”

“Have at it.” You tell him, handing her off to him as you stand back up on your feet, heading around the corner of the hallway. “I’m gonna go check the laundry real quick.”

“Alrigh’ then, my baby bird. Your mum wants to hear you talk, hm? What’d you say? Want to make her real happy and say mama? Mama?”

“Mmmmma. Mmmmma!” Rosie replies to him, slobbery, chubby hands coming to tap at his stumbled cheeks in amusement

“Holy shit, you actually are tryin’ to say it.” He says in a mix of disbelief and pure amazement, watching intently as he little pink lips try to hard to form the sounds. “Go on Rosie.”

“Aaaaa. Aaaaa! Daaaaa!”

“Well now you’re just all over the place, swee’heart.”

“Daaaaa! Daaaadaaa! Dada!”

At that, Simon is certain his heart has stopped beating, eyes gone wide in surprise as he looks down at the squirming bundle of joy who’s still babbling away without a care

Dada

She’s just called him dada

Obviously, she has no idea what that word means, she’s only just strung together some sounds, like you’ve said, she doesn’t realize the significance of those noises she’s just made

But for Simon?

He’s not sure life will ever be the same again, barely acknowledging the tears that are pooling in his eyes as he brings Rosie closer to his chest, cradling her against him as though she might disappear in the blink of an eye, the feeling of her tiny heartbeat against his own a comforting rhythm he finds solace in

“Yeah, it’s me love.” He whispers into the crown of her head, all too aware of your form watching from around the corner with unshed tears on your lash line. “It’s your dada.”

February

You had told him Valentine’s Day had never been something you saw as being worth celebrating, nothing more worthwhile than exchanging cards and lollies in primary school and unnecessarily crying over in secondary when you were without a partner for the dance

Simon already bought you flowers more often than you could keep track of, he cooked meals for you, paid for dates, made love to you until you saw stars, loved your baby like she was his own, what more could you ask of him?

You’d insisted you didn’t want any fanfare, didn’t want anything more than him, and certainly didn’t want any presents

And so when you got home and found a small wrapped box on the kitchen table, you were a little peeved

“I hope you know I didn’t get you anything.” You mention, already feeling a tad guilty that you hadn’t bought anything for Simon on your first Valentine’s Day together, though you thought he’d been on the same page as you

“Good thing this isn’t just for you then.” He says, sliding the box closer to you and responding to your raised brow with a wink of his eye. “S’for the both of us. Well, three of us, technically.”

“Well now I’m intrigued.” You reply, dragging your fingernails through the wrapping until your palm held a small cardboard box, wondering if the box was empty it was so lightweight. Your brows scrunched in confusion as you lifted the top off the box, revealing its single content inside. “What’s this?”

“A key.”

“Well, yes thank you. I can tell it’s a key, doofus.” You give him a playful kick under the table, spinning the cold metal key between your fingers. “What’s it for?”

“Our place.”

“Our what?” You ask, more than a little bewildered now, wondering if maybe Simon forgot to wear his hard hat today and took a hit to the head. “Simon you already have a key to the flat.”

“I know. It’s not for this flat.” He says, reaching into his trouser pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper, the creases in the page appearing as though it had been folded and refolded many times over. “It’s for our new place.”

As he unfolds the paper and slides it towards you, the wires in your brain connect, a gasp leaving your lips as you nearly drop the key

“Simon, you didn’t…”

“I did.”

On the paper before you, lies the listing for a house you’d been eyeing for a long time now, only now the ink on the paper tells you that the house is no longer up for sale, but is instead under negotiation

As lovely as your flat had been when you were living as a single woman, it had become cramped once Rosie arrived, and had only gottten that much tighter once Simon started unofficially living here as well

If only for the fun of it, you’d spent time looking through larger flats in the area, none of them within your price range, and so you’d gone down the rabbit hole of looking at homes you decided you’d never be able to afford and kept coming back to one in particular

This one hit everything on your checklist, and more

It was in a great neighborhood, was close to Rosie’s nursery and potential future schools, wasn’t that far from your work, had lots of parks nearby, on top of being spacious enough to accommodate the three of you

You’d shown it to Simon one evening, offhandedly asking him what he thought about it, wanting to get his opinion to keep in mind when you looked through future listings that were more within your budget, never thinking that he’d been paying that much attention to it

Yet, lo and behold, here in your hand was what was apparently the key to your new home together

“Simon- I-”

“I know your instinct is likely to say no right now.” Simon began, jumping in before you could start. “And I get it. I did this without askin’ you. But- love you should’ve seen your face when you showed me this place. I’ve watched you go back to this listing more than you realize. I’m already here practically every night, eventually Rosie’s gonna start walkin’ and we’ll need more space for her. This one’s got a great backyard righ’? I’ll build her a swing in the back, teach her to ride a bike out front. We could walk her in the pram to nursery on nice days, it’s so close by. We’d be able to-”

His own rambling is cut off, when you all but leap across the table to grab him by his collar and slant your lips over his

“Yes.” You say simply, pulling back to meet his loving gaze, leaning into the warm hand he’s brought up to cradle your cheek

“Yes?” He whispers back to you

“Yes.”

“I love you, birdy.”

“And I love you, Simon.”

It’s only a few weeks later, as you’re on your way to pick up Rosie from daycare, that the paperwork is finalized, the home officially yours, Simon’s and Rosie’s

Your first place together

Giddy with excitement, you make a quick pit stop by their office before slipping into Rosie’s class to get her, knowing it’ll be a lot trickier to speak with Emma once you’ve got your squirmy girl in your arms, always too ready to go home

You were on good terms with all of the staff at Rosie’s daycare, even the educators who weren’t in Rosie’s program, but you’d become actual friends with their assistant director over time, Emma, finding you had quite a bit in common, including your love for Rosie

It wasn’t so easy to maintain all of your old friendships since becoming a mum, your best friend sticking with you through thick and thin, though others had slowly dwindled over time, and so finding an unlikely friendship at Rosie’s nursery was a welcome surprise

“Hey! Was hoping you’d be here.” You say cheerfully, poking your head into Emma’s office, finding her sat behind the desk

“Oh hey you. Pfft, when am I not here?” She joked, shutting her laptop and giving you her full attention. “Coming to pick up the girly girl?”

“Yeah, just wanted to update some info with you first, if that’s okay.”

“Oh, well yeah. Of course. Come on in. What’s up?” She says, gesturing towards the chair across from her for you to take

“Our address is actually going be changing soon.”

“Oh my gosh! That place you were telling me Simon got?” She asks with surprise evident on her features

“Yes! The offer he put in went through and it’s officially ours now. Not sure when moving date will be quite yet, but I wanted to update you sooner than later.”

“Of course, that’s so exciting.” She replies, opening her computer back up and starting to type away

“And I figure it’s probably about time we add him as a contact as well. Or caregiver, whatever you prefer to call it.” You mention, reasoning that there are likely going to be times now where Simon might drop her off or pick her up by himself, and that they’ll need him on the list of approved caregivers

“Ha. Could you imagine? He only gets added now?” She laughs, still typing away at her computer.

“Hehe, yeah well, there might just be days where I can’t pick her up in time and so he’ll step in.” You add awkwardly, a bit confused by her reaction

“Right well, he’s clear to do so any time that might come up.” She assures you, giving you her own strange look now

“Wouldn’t you need him to be on her caregiver list first, though? I thought that was part of the policies, having the approved contacts?”

“Wait, sorry what? What are we talking about right now?”

“Adding Simon as one of her caregivers? I mean, I know it’s not ‘official’ or anything, officially moving in together isn’t a marriage proposal, but he’s still like a dad to her, is he not able to be added to the list?”

“Sorry- is- are you saying Simon isn’t Rosie’s dad?” She asks, her expression one of utter confusion

“What? No. No, of course he’s not her dad. I mean, not technically but in every way that matters yes. That can’t actually make a difference in having him be an approved pick up, can it?”

“He-” she begins, giving you an odd look as she spins her laptop around to face towards you now, the screen displaying Rosie’s contact information. “He’s already on there, babe. He’s been on there since day one.”

“Wait, what?”

Next Chapter

Oh what an ending! Many, many more good things to come with these two, I promise. Simon just has to pay a little first, okay? Next chapter is already in the works!

As always your patience, support, comments and messages in my inbox mean more to me than you could ever know! It’s been a tough month personally and writing is an outlet I find so much joy in so it really does mean a lot when my work resonates with others

- M 🫶🏻

Tag list: @dawnnightshade666 @topaz125 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @th3on3and0nly1r1s @sirbonesly @biscgutz @cmbghost @glossy01 @slowlyshycomputer @barcelonaaababe @astrxsee @sweetpeakarolinaaa @aqua-nina @wizzdot @beautifuleaglealpaca @peachy-satan00 @drewsuncrustables @pato-spoiler-27 @lem-hhn @dravenskye @juullllssss @mxsatorisimp @merkitty49 @monssan99-blog @notkyleelol @tessakate @sahvlren @danika1994 @viennakarma @pastel-devil-06 @asoulsreverie @puppydollgstar @strawberrygato @heletsmelovehim @404creep @just-lilita @desiretolive @marigold-morelli @robinfeldt98 @sleep101 @scaleniusrm @wh0reforstars @beebeechaos @lulutheoverthinker @casterblue @amans-puer @mestrecadumaverick @loud-mouph @t3a-bag @enfppuff @kneelforloki @scorpio-echo @casketofroses @vintage-karma

[readwritealldayallnight]

Part six coming tonight

This chapter was a labour of love… fluff, smut, angst, she’s gonna have it all folks, get ready

- M 🫶🏻

Bird Watching

Construction Worker!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x single mom!reader

‘Birds of a feather,

We should stick together, I know,

I said I’d never,

Think I wasn’t better alone’

Part one (2.3k words)

Part two (2.4K words)

Part three (3.6k words)

Part four (4.5k words)

Part five (6.3k words)

Part six (coming soon)

‘I knew you in another life,

You had that same look in your eyes,

I love you,

Don’t act so surprised’

[readwritealldayallnight]

Annoyed by their antics, Ghost is rolling his eyes faster than the sergeants can open their mouths to continue poking their fun at him

Of course you’d call him now, just as the two younger men are in the midst of teasing him incessantly, trying in vain to get the LT to admit to the relationship they’ve become certain he’s having with you in secret

And of course, they’d be absolutely correct in their assumptions

But Ghost certainly isn’t about to tell them as much, let them in on the fun the two of you have been having for months now behind closed doors

“Ach, I’d bet tha’s the lass right there, innit LT?” Soap goads, digging a playful elbow into Gaz’s side as he juts his chin towards the vibrating cell phone sat on the common room table, the men lounging around the otherwise vacant room late one night, everyone else long gone to sleep

“An’ if it was?” The masked man asks, crossing his muscular arms over his chest, raising a single brow hidden beneath the balaclava

“Well if it’s jus’ professional between you two, like ye say,” Gaz begins, exchanging mischievous glances with Soap beside him. “Then ye’d be able to answer with us here? On speaker?”

Never one to forfeit first, especially in the face of such cheeky expressions he can imagine their mums spent years smacking off of them, he for some reason chooses to indulge the men for once, imagining that whatever reason you’re calling him at this late hour couldn’t possibly be all that bad to share

“S’fine.” Ghost replies, swiping the phone off the table and swiping to answer, before pressing the speaker phone button

“Alrigh’?” He speaks into the receiver, ignoring the grinning faces leaning closer towards him

“Oh thank fuck, I need you! Simon please come to my room right now!” Your pleas come through the phone, surprising the men

“No fuckin’ way…” Gaz whispers, everyone’s eyes gone wide

“What’d you mean? Are you hurt?” Ghost asks instantly, shooting up onto his feet

“No no! But I neeeeeeed you Simon, I’m serious!”

“Eh, maybe I could come help ye out, bonnie.” Soap chuckles, evidently uncaring to keep his and Gaz’s presence a secret from you

“Is that Soap? Ew no way, I need Simon! No one else is as big as you are Si, please I need you!”

“Be right there.” Ghost answers simply before hanging up, already intent on making his way towards you

“Was na’ actually expectin’ her to say somethin’ like tha’! Was only half kiddin’ ‘bout it all but shite LT, good on ye!” Soap exclaims, reaching over to slap a hand across his teammates back

Ghost himself can’t deny his own surprise at the call, nor can he ignore the blood suddenly threatening to run south in his body as he wonders what had gotten into you, what has you feeling so desperately needy for him

He doesn’t bother to bid either one of them goodbye, listening to their snickering grow quieter and he marches towards your room in the barracks, having walked this path enough times he imagines he could do so in his sleep

He’s resisting the urge to adjust himself through his pants as he lands a palm on your door handle, imagination running wild with a thousand and one scenarios of what he’ll find when he opens it, what position you may be waiting for him in

Though of all the possibilities he imagined, this certainly wasn’t one of them

“Oh Simon thank god!” You exclaim once he’s stepped foot through the door, finding you stood atop your desk with a shoe in hand. “I’ve been trying to get this spider all night, I think you’re the only one big enough to reach!”

The sergeants think they’re real cheeky, stopping by your room a few minutes later with a box of condoms to toss at you and the LT, enjoying teasing the large man all too much and maybe they’re hoping to catch a glimpse of something they likely shouldn’t see but would kill for -

Though the men are stopped in their tracks when instead, they catch sight of their lieutenant emerging from your room with his large hands carefully clasped around something, followed by your form reminding him to “Be careful with it! Don’t squish the lil’ guy.” as you both head outside

Exchanging knowing looks, neither Gaz nor Soap need to say it aloud to know they’re both thinking the same thing

You’ve got Ghost entirely wrapped around your finger

[readwritealldayallnight]

9k?? you’re an angel ilysm girl

bird watching is my new hyperfixation 😝

Aw well I’m so glad you’re enjoying it!!

Oh yeah next chapter is gonna be the longest yet, lots and lots of fluff as we prep for the angst of Simon’s lies catching up to him 🤫

I appreciate everyone’s patience between uploads, I prefer not to give myself an exact timeline for uploading because I never want to post something that I feel isn’t up to my personal standard, but this next chapter is nearly all put together, just have to tweak a few parts and then she’ll be out soon! I’m thinking the series is probably going to come to be about 10 chapters total

- M 🫶🏻

[readwritealldayallnight]

Hi M,

Just found you and oh my… I might be developing an addiction. I haven’t had a chance to read your whole master list yet so, please forgive me if I’m asking a very obvious question. Do you/would you consider writing poly! 141?

Thanks, K

Hey K!

Well thanks so much, I’m glad you’re enjoying!! I would sooooooo be down for writing poly!141 down the road, absolutely

- M 🫶🏻

[readwritealldayallnight]

hi!

out of curiosity, will you ever add your works or series on ao3? though i would understand if not, with all the threat of ai scraping maybe reaching even the restricted works

was just wondering, since ao3 makes it easy for me to download fics to add to my private library, as well as an easier time following series (or maybe that's just me)

have a nice day!

I think eventually I will start transferring works over onto ao3, i know it’s especially helpful for the longer fics (next part of Bird watching is already at 9k words oopsies)

but yes the ai garbage definitely does make me nervous, same with how much easier it is for stories to get downloaded on ao3, makes me worry about fics getting stolen and reposted elsewhere, but luckily haven’t dealt with anything like that myself so far

Thanks for the message anon!

- M 🫶🏻

[readwritealldayallnight]

I like to think of reader who’s looking for a second job, just a way to make some extra cash part time on the weekends

Reader lands a gig at a drive test centre, thinking she’s working the front desk or something, just handling paperwork, only to discover the job she applied for was the driver examiner, the person who sits in the car and determines whether people can earn their license or not

Reader who decides money is money and accepts the position, the hours aren’t so terrible so she goes through the work training and everything, comes in for her first official shift, expecting a nervous teenager or something similar, only to discover that the first person she’ll be examining is someone called Simon Riley, aka the world’s worst driver

Reader who thinks she’s going to quit before Simon’s even pulled out of the parking lot, seriously rethinking her life choices as she grips the door handle for dear life, all while Simon’s confusing the turn signals with the windshield wipers

Reader who has to fail Simon, because the man can’t drive for shit, but instead offers to help him practice sometime, unofficially of course, can’t be known that she’s fraternizing with a customer

Blah blah blah they fall in love obviously and whether Simon ever learns to drive is debatable but he certainly knows how to drive reader crazy

[readwritealldayallnight]

ok here me out. simon coming too soon. like this man does not have sex often. ah i think it would be hot lowkey

18+ MDNI

Think of football scores

Think of the weather report

Think of last week’s briefing

Think of your first drill sergeant yelling at you

Think of-

He tries to think of anything that’s going to help keep him from blowing his load way too soon

Because you, right now? You’re certainly not helping his case

“Oh my god, that ride felt like it took forever. I didn’t think I was gonna last ‘til we made it home.” You nearly whine as you hurry to get the front door to your flat unlocked

‘That makes two of us’ Simon thinks to himself, remembering the way your wandering hands kept brushing against his thigh during dinner, how your sneaky fingers teased the prominent bulge pressed up against the front of his trousers the entire drive back, how your impatient lips tickled against the vein throbbing in his neck, sending goosebumps across his skin-

No

No, he can’t linger on it for too long, the twitching in his pants nearly painful from how pent up he is, how ready to burst he feels from having been kept apart from you for months, his hand a pitiful replacement for the warm embrace of your arms wrapped around him while your cunt held him even tighter

“Finally.” You exclaim, the door swinging open at your insistence, the both of you stumbling inside like a pair of fools drunk off of nothing more than each other

With a hand between your shoulder blades, Simon is steering you towards the bedroom like a man starved, his hands never straying from your skin

“Get on the bed, love. M’hungry.” His lips murmur against your ear, hopeful that eating you out will give his member the time he needs to pull himself together, for his brain and his cock to sync up and not burst in his pants the moment you touch him

Your own fingers are trying their best to fumble with his belt buckle, though he pulls his hips back out of your reach, bringing a pout to your lips

“Simon, no. I can’t wait anymore, I need you.” You try pleading with him, though you put up no resistance whatsoever as his large hands make their way under your shirt, slipping it over your head with ease

The bra is next to go, being flung across the room without a single care for where it lands, your pants the next item to be discarded on the floor, until you’re left in nothing but your panties and the dog tags he drapes around your neck each and every time he comes home from deployment, the cold metal reading ‘Riley’ sat perfectly between your breasts where he feels it belongs

“S’too bad, I’m cravin’ somethin’ sweet after supper.” He replies casually, the ache in his crotch unbearable as his eyes wander over your nearly naked form, a sight he’ll never grow tired of seeing. “You got somethin’ sweet for me? Hm? Gon’ be nice and gimme a taste?”

“Simon, please.” You insist, though you’re already crawling backwards onto the bed, eyes locked with his as he lowers himself between your parted legs, rough and calloused hands squeezing the meat of your thighs as he drapes one leg over his broad shoulder

“Mmm, you’ll have me love. Trust me. But first, I need you.” He says just as his lips begin trailing their way from your knee, leaving kissing in his wake as he inches his way higher up your thigh, along your hip, on the edge of your panties, grabbing the fabric of the waist band between his teeth before letting it snap back against you

“S-stop teasing.” You manage to let out, though your fingers sliding into his hair, nails scratching slightly at his scalp, lets him know you’re enjoying this as much as he is

Simon can feel himself beginning to leak into his boxers, when he presses a soft kiss against your folds over your panties and your soft gasp of surprise has his eyes practically rolling into the back of his head

He’s missed this, missed you more than he could ever say, every part of you, but this in particular, being able to rile you up as you squirm beneath him, getting all hot and bothered and desperate for him, this he has missed dearly

He would love to keep on teasing you until you’re as worked up as he feels right now, would love to drag this out and make the most of the evening, but he himself can only take so much more of this, his pants feeling impossibly suffocating at the moment, and so he tugs your soaked panties down off of you until their dangling off one ankle, connecting his mouth to where you need him most in a sloppy kiss that is anything but proper

The ache never stops though, not where you start writhing beneath his touch as though you were as sensitive as the head of his cock feels right now, precum staining through his trousers now as he unconsciously starts grinding his hips into the mattress, not when your gasps and moans and whines and pleads are the most beautiful music his damaged ears have ever heard, his own grunts of pleasure mixing into your melody

He should have known, really, that while eating you out might have helped to avoid cumming inside of you after only a few thrusts inside your warmth, he should have known better than to think that he wasn’t going to get as much out of this as you would

For a man as vigilant as he is, he’s hardly aware that it’s about to happen, too focused on helping you reach the peak of your pleasure, too intent on getting you to that place you’re begging him to take you to, whimpering for ‘just a little more, a little more, please Simon, please’, that he fails to realize he’s cumming in his pants until it happens, the force of it taking him by surprise as he groans against your clit, the vibrations just enough to send you careening over the edge into bliss alongside him

He’ll clean himself up later, maybe get you in the shower with him before you notice the wet stain on his front, but until then, he’s going to need some time to recover and get hard again

Luckily, he’s sat at in front of his favourite meal, and the second course is only about to begin