Yours Truly

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/49240828.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Category: F/M
Fandom: Call of Duty (Video Games)
Relationship: Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader
Character: John Price (Call of Duty), Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish,
John "Soap" MacTavish's Family, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Task Force 141
Ensemble, Phillip Graves (Call of Duty), Keegan P. Russ, König (Call of
Duty)
Additional Tags: Hurt Simon "Ghost" Riley, Simon "Ghost" Riley is Bad At Feelings,
Jealous Simon "Ghost" Riley, Pining Simon "Ghost" Riley, Simon
"Ghost" Riley Needs a Hug, Protective Simon "Ghost" Riley, Soft Simon
"Ghost" Riley, Headaches & Migraines, Canon-Typical Violence, Sex,
Rough Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Kissing, Blood and Injury, Blood and
Gore, Torture, Implied Sexual Content, References to Depression, Love
Letters, Game: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022), Loss of Virginity,
Virginity Kink, Love Stories
Language: English
Series: Part 1 of COD Masked men are elite and I'm down bad.
Stats: Published: 2023-08-10 Updated: 2023-09-29 Words: 23,039 Chapters:
8/?

Yours Truly
by Aspyn_Ashryvery

Summary

After two weeks spent with your twin Johnny MacTavish and his Lieutenant Simon
“Ghost” Riley in November, you developed a slight crush. Deciding on sending Ghost a
Christmas package and letter alongside your twin Johnny you don’t expect a response.
However, two weeks later you’re gifted with a letter from Ghost, and for the next six
months you two write back and forth weekly with you quickly falling in love with the
surprisingly sweet Lieutenant before Ghost and Johnny’s mission ends. Instead of returning
to England Ghost decides to spend another break between deployments with you and
Johnny. Hiding your feelings is difficult when you now live in the same house as the
masked man you’ve fallen for. You’re sure all Ghost sees as a good friend maybe even
family like he considers your twin. Can you get over your feelings for him? Or are you
bound to confess to him and get rejected?

In other words, I’m bad with descriptions and you’re Soap’s twin sister who has fallen in
love with Ghost over letters and now the time has come to reap what you’ve sown. This fic
has a sweeter side of Ghost that I so desperately crave. Reader also suffers from chronic
migraines so call it self indulgence if you want lmao
Notes

Hey, guys thanks so much for reading my very self-indulgent Ghost x Reader fic lol! I
would greatly appreciate any Kudos, Comments, and bookmarks you would like to leave.
I'll have a note starting at the beginning of each chapter and list any trigger or content
warnings that may be in the chapter. The first chapter is pretty innocent and doesn't have
anything besides the mentions of a migraine and migraine medicine, so if that bothers you,
this might not be the fic for you lol! Anyways thanks for reading and I look forward to the
feedback; the updates should be weekly around midweek so Thursdays or Wednesdays!
Thanks!
 Chapter 1

My gaze drifts through the maze of people departing from the airport boarding gate area.
Desperately searching for a glimpse of my twin Johnny or his Lieutenant Ghost. Ghost or as I’ve
been referring to him in the letters we’ve exchanged these past six months, Simon. Simon, the soft
and kind soldier I’ve unmistakably fallen in love with is coming here to spend their break in
deployment. Gods, there is no way I’ll survive their stay until they’re undoubtedly called away
onto another six-month-long mission. How long would I have both of the most important men
back in my life for weeks? Months? Only the gods knew. My mind drifted through the imaginary
scenarios I’d put myself and Simon in as the main characters these past six months. Furrowing my
brows as I rack my brain for a way to ignore my feelings long enough to get through their
‘vacation’. My gaze sharpens as I make my decision. He’ll just have to be Ghost for his time
here. If I ignore my feelings for Simon by pretending his just Ghost, then I might just be able to
survive- A scream rips through my throat as a pair of strong muscular arms wrap around me from
behind and lift my feet off the ground. I raise my arm ready to slam my elbow up and back into
their chin and throat like Johnny taught me when a familiar voice laughs in my ear.

“Easy there lassie,” Johnny’s words are a tired giggle and I instantly find myself relaxing into him
as tears well up in my eyes. Wiggling around in his embrace I wrap my arms around his neck and
lay my head down on his shoulders as the tears finally spill onto my cheeks and my twin’s navy-
blue shirt. “Are you crying?” Johnny’s voice is loud against my ears as I dig my hands deeper into
his shirt.

“No!” I hiss through my sobs of happiness as my gaze lifts from my brother’s shoulder to land on
a masked man standing directly in front of us. Simon- no I correct myself before I can even
consider reaching out to him as well. Ghost stands in a pair of dark wash jeans, a light grey jumper,
a matching face mask, and a black and white marbled beanie that hides his hair from view.
Sunglasses meet my gaze instead of his normal stoic brown eyes and I can’t help but frown.
“Ghost,” my voice is barely a whisper and I watch as Ghost’s shoulder tightens in on himself once
I’ve addressed him. Almost like I’d done something wrong.

“(Y/N),” Ghost’s bass-pitched voice is a rumble devoid of any emotions as he inclines his head
down towards me. Johnny places me back down gently before slinging an arm around my
shoulders affectionately. Johnny’s azure-hued gaze drifts between the two of us before he furrows
his own brows as if in thought and plants a questioning glare onto his Lieutenant.

“Relax lassie,” Johnny speaks softly as he pulls his gaze away from Ghost and towards me as he
pulls me in the direction of the baggage claim. “We’re home now,” Johnny includes Ghost in the
reassurance, and I nod trying to hide just how much it means to have them both back home with
me. I smile up to him wiping the last of my tears away with the backs of my hands as Ghost
follows behind so silently that I steal secret glances over my shoulder to make sure he’s still with
us.

~~~~~
My body jolts awake with a searing pain pressing into the left side of my face wrapping around
from the base of my head to throb hatefully against my left eye socket. I groan out as the wave of
nauseating pressure and pain increases tenfold as I fully come to snuggled up in my bed in my
shared two-story cottage in the Scottland countryside with Johnny. Oh fuck, I grip my left temple
as I’m barely able to force myself into a sitting position. I’ve always struggled with chronic
migraines since my teens but that in no way means I’m always fully prepared for when one of them
decides to rear a snarling face at me. Especially when it’s the first night that Johhny and Ghost
have returned from deployment. Gods, I hiss in pain as I crack my eyes open despite the skull-
crushing pressure I’m currently under. My only time around Ghost just had to be ruined by this.
Fuck my life. The edges of my vision began to shake as bile rises into my throat like a snake
coiling itself up to strike. I just had to make it into the bathroom, take my medicine, and get under
the warm spray of my shower before the pain becomes too bad to even stomach walking and I’d
have to call out to Johnny to be rescued. Pushing off my quilt I take in a deep breath before
swinging my legs over the edge of my bed and forcing myself to rise to my feet. Swaying under
the influence of my migraine I stumble my way out of my bedroom and into the hallway. Just as I
pass by the spare bedroom that Ghost would be occupying for the foreseeable future while they
were on leave from whatever it is the army uses them for, I pause slightly in thought. Johnny
refuses to tell me anything about his line of work but I can tell whatever these men do daily
involves more violence, gore, and heartbreak than most civilians experience in multiple lifetimes.
One of our few twin rules as we refer to them is don’t ask and don’t tell. Johnny was quick to put
his career under that rule when he returned from his first Task Force 141 mission. A new crushing
wave of pain throbs against my skull and my vision flashes black against my own will and I’m sent
careening into the hardwood floor in front of Ghost’s honorary MacTavish bedroom a pained
screech passing through my lips.

“Fuck,” I mutter as a different kind of pain barks through my knees at their harsh landing on the
hallway floor. My vision is slowly coming back into focus as two separate bedroom doors clang
open and more light spews into the darkened hallway.

“(Y/N)?” Johnny’s question is a shout and as my vision finally fully returns, I’m kneeling in
front of muscular legs hidden poorly under a pair of tight black joggers. Oh, fuck me, those are
definitely not Johnny’s legs. My gaze slowly glides up the set of legs and past the matching black
shirt to land on a cinnamon-hued gaze and furrowed brows. The rest of Ghost’s expression is
hidden under a plain black face mask and his hair is tucked away into a plain black beanie with a
small, embroidered skull on the front of it in white. Heat rushes to my face fast as I realize it’s the
one, I sent in his Christmas package six months ago. The soft moment is gone as my migraine
slams against my left eye socket as if in anger that I could’ve forgotten about its presence and I’m
doubling over with a groan slipping past my lips. “Oh!” Johnny bites out in realization as he grips
me under my shoulders to help haul me onto my feet. Instantly I slump into him eagerly, gods
sometimes I forget just how much I miss him when’s gone.

“Soap?” Ghost’s voice is as stoic as ever his accent clings thickly to his question as he follows as
Johnny all but carries me into the bathroom. Was that irritation or concern lacing his words? I
couldn’t tell.
 “Migraine,” I explain my voice barely above a whisper when my twin sits me gently onto the
vanity top as he begins rummaging for my Triptan in the medicine cabinet but coming up short.
“Third drawer.” I hiss out keeping my gaze on Johnny instead of the towering man leaning against
the wall opposite of me.

“Jobby,” Johnny curses at me, and from the corner of my eye, I see Ghost quirk an eyebrow up in
confusion. If I weren’t in so much pain, I’d probably laugh at the English man’s confusion or
explain the phrase, but I keep my mouth shut as my jaw clenches and unclenches involuntarily
trying to alleviate some of my pain. “First you don’t get me to help you and then you switch
around this whole damn layout, and I can’t find anything.” Johnny hisses his words though they
hold no true venom towards me only towards the situation we three have found ourselves in. It
nonetheless still rubs me the wrong way.

“I’ll gie ye a skelpit lug!” I growl out in annoyance at my brother, but the threat falls on deaf ears
as he breaks open the package of pills and slips the proper dosage into my smaller outstretched
hand. Slugging back the pill without water is a task I’m well accustomed to and I raise my hand to
my mouth to take the medication.

“Translation?” Ghost drawls from his position on the wall as I finish gulping down my medicine
and I flush under his scrutinizing gaze. Even in normal situations like this, it’s hard to forget just
how intimidating this man is even after six months of exchanging letters back and forth. I was so
overwhelmed earlier about having to actually have those intimate conversations face to face with
him - face to mask is a more accurate phrase- I feigned exhaustion and hid out in my room after
picking them up from the airport.

“Just an empty threat,” Johnny half explains walking off to start the shower for me. “How long
has it been since yer last one?” His tone is full of concern as I shrug as I’m not really keeping track
of them like I used to. Johnny frowns but doesn’t push the subject. “I’ll get a glass of water.”
With that, he’s striding out the bathroom door and into the hallway. And I’m alone with Ghost.
Great.

“You can get back to sleep sorry I woke you up.” I say my voice weak as I slide off of the vanity
top and onto the floor but another heated wave of pain crashes against me and I’m stumbling
forwards on my knees. Large hands on my waist keep me upright and I’m pulled against a solid
chest. My head barely comes up to Ghost’s sternum and I’m instantly cursing myself internally at
the scenario I’ve gotten myself into.

“Easy love,” oh gods, did I mention how hot his accent was? It’s one thing that I allowed myself to
fall for my brother’s stoic Lieutenant over handwritten letters and small gifts but it’s a whole other
can of worms to be caught up in his embrace in the throes of a migraine. “You, okay?” He asks as
our gazes meet softly and I can’t help but fawn over the tiny flecks of gold underlaying the
cinnamon shade of his irises. As if this man couldn’t get any hotter. Ghost clears his throat and
suddenly I remember he’s asked me a question and here I am staring into his eyes with gods knows
what expression coating my face. I’m such an idiot!

“Yes,” I squeak out pulling away and entering the shower fully clothed sliding the fabric curtain
shut behind me. I don’t even care about my pajamas as I slide into a seated position and allow the
hot water to roll over me offering some relief for the pain and pressure that seems hellbent on
torturing me fully. My breath rushes past me in steamy puffs as I hear a glass of water being set
down on the vanity top with a soft clank. Johnny’s back, instantly the pressure of pain intensifies
and I’m holding back my desire to call out to my brother for comfort. I refuse to look like some
needy child in front of Ghost even though I’m 26 and more than allowed to want to seek comfort
from my twin. A hushed conversation is happening, but the shower is too loud or I’m too far into
my pained thoughts to hear it. A door shuts and then seconds later a bedroom door closes as well.
I’m sure Ghost has excused himself and left Johnny to care for me and even though the thought
saddens me I’m thankful I can call to Johnny for comfort now. “Hey,” I call out pushing my
soaking wet hand through the fabric curtain to wriggle my fingers eagerly asking for a hand to hold
just like I’ve done a hundred times before. Seconds pass and I begin to think Johnny went back to
his room as well, I wouldn’t blame him he’s always so exhausted after a deployment- My train of
thought is derailed as a large and rough hand encompasses mine. Scars and callouses line the
palms and fingers and I frown hating how Johnny always seems to come back with new scars.
There’s a shifting sound and then I feel Johnny sit down next to the bathtub. His thumb rubs
soothing circles over my knuckles as my vision begins to shake and blur again. “Music,” I hiss out
knowing he’ll understand what I need. Johnny never fails me. More shuffling finds my ears
before the sound of a soft melodic piano cuts out into the steamy air around me and just as my
vision goes black once again, I drift into my own thoughts.

Six Months Earlier:

I excitedly race for the front door as the mailman pushes today’s papers and whatnot through the
mail slot on my cherry red front door. Five envelopes and one flyer float down to the dark brown
hardwood floors as I stumble down the last few steps of the staircase before stopping in front of the
pile of papers. I eagerly scoop them up before practically skipping into the living room. Today
should be when Johnny’s letter for the week will come in, they always come on Tuesdays without
fault and I’m eager to see how he’s doing and how he enjoyed his snack gift box and care package
for Christmas I sent him. I sent a gift package to Ghost as well after accidentally getting a small
crush on him during those two weeks in November he’d spent here in Scottland with me and my
twin before they were deployed again. I don’t even let myself hope for a reply to my letter to him
as I tuck myself under a blanket in front of my fireplace on my leather couch. Sifting through the
pile I place three bills onto the coffee table in front of me and crumple up a festival flyer before
tossing it in the direction of the waste basket to my right. I place Johnny’s letter on my lap before
glancing at what I assume is another bill or some form of junk mail. My eyebrow furrows when I
realize the return address is labeled the same as Johnny’s albeit in a much neater script.
Confusion filters through me so I leave Jonny’s letter to wait and rip open the white envelope and
pull out a folded-up letter. Unfolding it my heart leaps as my eyes scan over the page as I begin
reading.
Dear (Y/N),

I hope your Christmas was peaceful and you weren ’ t too lonely without Johnny there to annoy the
shit out of you. The tosser won ’ t stop whinging to us here on base about how much he misses you
and your cooking, I think he ’ s mentioned missing your neeps and tatties at least fifty times this
week alone. I honestly still don ’ t know what kind of dishes those are but from the way he
describes them, I bet they ’ re his favorite. Lord only knows he ’ s got all of the boys on base vexed
and missing their own people back home, so you better pray he makes it back to you before
someone here does him in. Anyways, I really just wrote this to you in thanks for writing to me and
sending me a Christmas package. I really appreciate you thinking of me alongside giving Johnny
something to be happy about this time of year. The holidays are always rough when on deployment
and I ’ m sure Johnny doesn ’ t let you know but getting gifts like the ones you send him are a rare
commodity here on the base. Once again thanks for the letter and package, I really appreciate it.

Yours Truly,

Simon Riley. 12-25-20xx

P.s. Maybe next time I ’ m in Scotland I can try some of your infamous cooking?

Blush clings heavily to my cheeks as I re-read and re-read the letter, I grip the paper so tightly in
my hands terrified that if I loosen my grip by even a mere fraction it’ll vanish, and it would all
have just been a dream. Smiling like some lovesick teenager I move to place the letter down on the
couch next to me when something shiny glints up at me from the torn open envelope. It stares up
at me like a beacon. I fish out the object and instantly feel my smile widening. A small hand-
folded rose made of gum wrappers sets in my palm. I stare at it for a few seconds and then I’m up
and rushing to my room and heading straight for my stationery desk my reply already writing itself
in my mind.

Present:

I come to under the now icy chill of the spray of water any traces of heat long since have
dissipated. Oh gods, my teeth have even started chattering but thankfully my pain is gone from the
migraine. The pressure is still there but it’s bearable on its own. My medication only ever rarely
gets rid of the pressure and the pain it always tends to pick one or the other. With a soft sigh of
relief, I realize Johnny’s thumb is still tracing circles over my knuckles and I smile softly.
Reaching with my other hand I shut off the water quickly and pull back the shower curtains
expecting to meet my twin’s azure-hued eyes. Only the set of eyes staring back at me are not even
remotely blue. They’re brown, a soft cinnamon colour with barely noticeable golden flecks hidden
beneath the darker shade. Oh shit.
 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes

Hey, thank you guys so much for the love on the first chapter of this fic! I'm so glad
other people are down bad for COD masked men like I am. I have a spicy Ghost x
reader x Keegan oneshot coming up as well as a GhostSoap fic and possibly a Ghost x
reader x Keegan fic as welll! I'll have more updates on those as they come along.
Anyways I've decided every few chapters or so I'll add one of Ghost's letter to the
reader as I see fit and we'll eventually have some chapters from Ghost's POV later on
in the fic. Anyways no trigger warnings for this chapter! Thanks once again for
reading and please feel free to leave a kudos and comment or bookmark if you feel
like it! See you next Wednesday/Thursday with an update! Have a great day and or
night! Thanks for reading!

I’m soaking wet in nothing but a drenched baggy grey shirt and a pair of plain black skimpy gym
shorts, kneeling in my bathtub, gripping Ghost’s hand for dear life. Oh, fuck me. My gaze widens
and I’m yanking my hand back harshly before I can even say anything to him. Those cinnamon
eyes flecked with gold narrow in what I assume is confusion, or it could be in concern. I’m
honestly not so sure what is so thick in his gaze currently but I’m not about to ask him either.

“I’m sorry Ghost,” I say my words rushed with embarrassment as I try to ease my rumbling
pulse. I’m blushing so hard I’d be surprised if he couldn’t hear the roaring of my own heartbeat
seeing as I can hear it hammering harshly against my eardrums. Fuck please tell me he can’t. “I
thought you were Johnny,” I say, watching as his ashen blonde brows knit together slightly as if
I’ve offended him. I blink and his expression is back to that of a stone carving, utterly devoid of
any emotion. Why do I get the sense I’ve done something wrong? Again.

“It’s fine,” Ghost says in such a tired and gravel-filled voice that it instantly sends heated cogs and
gears to twist to life in my lower stomach. I’m nodding stupidly at his response before I can stop
myself and I swear I see the corner of his eyes crinkle ever so slightly against the edge of his face
mask. Is he sneering? No, his gaze is too soft to be sneering at me, but I’m not sure if it’s a smile
either. “You feeling any better?” The masked man rumbles out as his expression evens out once
again. Heat blossoms in my chest at the concern underlying his question. I’m quick to stamp it
out.

“Yes,” I rasp out my voice suddenly hoarse from some unknown cause. I see Ghost nod stiffly and
without using anything for assistance the mountain of a man rises to his feet. I look away quickly
as I become at eye level with his groin in this new position. I keep my gaze on the water droplets
still rolling down my forearms as I wait for Ghost to excuse himself, but I’m greeted with the
sound of my linen closet creaking open instead. Lifting my gaze, I watch Ghost’s eyes search for
something and narrow slightly when he spots it. Seconds later, the masked man is crouching down
to be at eye level again holding out a dark forest green towel.

“Here,” Ghost says blandly, and I take the towel with a nod of thanks. I stand and wrap it around
myself the best as I can as Ghost starts speaking again. “You look like you’re about to shiver out
of your own skin.” His words are warm with a hint of teasing, and I can’t help but smile up at him
dumbly. Once our eyes meet the beautiful shade of cinnamon and gold is ripped from my vision as
Ghost turns his head away from me. “I’ll let you get some rest.” Ghost’s words are ground out
and from the way his face mask shifts I get the feeling that he’s clenching his jaw. He stalks off to
the bathroom door wrenching it open and I call out to him before I can bite my tongue.

“Ghost?” I watch as he keeps his back towards me but inclines his head towards me in
acknowledgment. “Thank you,” I say softly knowing that those two words will never convey how
much his actions have meant to me, but it’s the only thing I can get out of my mouth. Ghost’s
tattooed forearms flex slightly and for a second, I think he’ll just brush off my thanks and leave our
moment to end awkwardly. Turning his body slightly to face me, I watch as those cinnamon and
gold-flecked eyes narrow on me intensely.

“(Y/N)?” Ghost calling my name out loud is something I’ll never get used to, but I don’t know if I
can recover from the force, he puts behind my name this time. All I can muster is a nod and
quirking up one of my brows in reply. “Don’t hesitate to get me or Johnny next time.” I freeze at
Ghost’s stern reprimand. I blink slowly and before I can reply his towering frame exits the
bathroom and seconds later, I hear a door open and then close softly. Ghost’s tone left no room for
argument and maybe even a bit of anger and now hear I am standing in soaking wet clothes in my
bathtub my thoughts tangled heavily together in too thick of a web to try and wrangle free of. How
will I ever survive him being here?

````

After waking up at ten in the morning I shower and change into a pair of light-wash jean shorts that
stop mid-thigh, a black crop top with a band logo across the chest, and a pair of slip-on vans coated
in a pattern of butterflies. I leave my hair down to air dry and forgo any makeup before doing one
more once over in my mirror before sauntering into the hallway and down the stairs. I can hear
Johnny’s rambunctious laughter from the back porch, and I smile softly. It’s so nice to have him
back and to hear him relaxed. Thinking happily to myself, I fix a cup of coffee from the fresh pot
by my fridge and slip in the right amount of cream and sugar before grasping the burnt yellow mug
and stepping through the open sliding door off of the kitchen and onto the back porch.

“Shove off you prick.” Ghost’s tone is sweeter than his words as he lifts up a socked foot to shove
into the middle of Johnny’s chest where my twin leans against the porch railing. Johnny pushes
backwards into the railing harder than I know Ghost has shoved him with a feigned groan of pain.
Turning my gaze to Ghost, I find him in a pair of dark wash jeans, a deep red shirt, and a plain
black balaclava. Said balaclava is hiked up slightly to allow him enough room to take a long drag
from the cigarette resting in his dominant hand. I watch with a sudden rush of lust as the wispy
curls of smoke are blown back out as Ghost turns his head away from both Johnny and me,
instantly I know it's out of respect that the smoke is blown towards the empty side of the porch. As
if sensing my gaze on him, Ghost quickly tugs down the fabric before I can really get a good view
of his chin or lips. It’s hard to hide my disappointment. “Morning,” the masked man huffs in my
direction as he leans forwards in his seated position in one of my oak rocking chairs. I watch as he
uses the ashtray, I bought for him on his last visit to put out and dispose of the half-used cigarette.
Guilt zooms through my veins in a chilly rush turning my blood to slush and chasing away the tiny
bit of heated lust that had begun buzzing under my skin.

“Morning guys,” I say quietly as I move to sit in the other rocking chair opposite Ghost. I take a
deep sip of my coffee before leaning forwards to sit it down on the coffee table the ashtray is
resting on. Turning my gaze to Johnny I roll my eyes. He’s wearing grey cargo shorts and the
exact same black band tee as me albeit his shirt isn’t a crop top. We’d gotten them two years ago
when I’d snagged us pit tickets for the concert. “Really?” I ask in fake annoyance gesturing to my
shirt. It’s Johnny’s turn to roll his azure-hued eyes at me.

“I got dressed first,” Johhny says simply with a shrug as I grab my mug and sip on my coffee
again. “Must be the twin intuition.” Johnny smooths down the front of his Mohawk with a chuckle
that I can’t help but to return.

“Twin intuition?” Ghost asks, turning his cinnamon and gold eyes onto me before passing his
gaze onto Johnny.

“It’s not a real thing,” I say with a quick glare at Johnny as he flips me off playfully. “Johnny says
we suffer from twin intuition because we end up wearing the same clothes and stuff.” I say with a
shrug hoping that it’s a good enough explanation for the mountain of a man next to me.

“Then explain how we say the same things at the same time.” Johnny bites out eagerly and Ghost
and I both groan out in annoyance at the rant we’re sure is to follow. “Or how I woke up right
before your migraine last night?” I glance up at Johnny and set a knowing glare on him that causes
his triumphant smile to falter.
“Sure, you weren’t up that late looking for someone to shag on a shitty dating app?” I ask my tone
heavy with mockery as I quirk my brow up at my twin whose expression has fallen into that of a
child who’s just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “How’s that for twin intuition
Johnny-boy?” I ask using his old nickname with a smirk turning back to my mug and taking
another sip of my coffee. Then I hear Ghost’s roar of laughter and I’m sputtering and choking on
my coffee in shock and excitement. I’ve never heard something so rough and smooth at the same
time before. His laugh is so akin to shooting bourbon that I’m wondering how easy it would be to
get drunk on it.

“She told you, Johnny,” Ghost wheezes out and I calm myself quickly stealing a glance at the
masked man next to me. The cinnamon of his eyes is so vibrant in his excitement that it almost
drowns out those soft golden flecks. If you didn’t know where to look for them, you wouldn’t be
able to find them. Luckily, I know just where to look. It’s Johnny’s turn to react as he sticks his
tongue out playfully to me before flipping off his Lieutenant as if it’s second nature. Hell with
how I know Johnny’s personality maybe it is second nature.

“Awa’ an bile yer heid.” Johnny barks out towards Ghost and I sense the masked man stiffen ever
so slightly. I watch seconds later as Johnny wrenches up his shoulders as if in reaction to his own
words. What’s so wrong with a bit of playful banter? Maybe Ghost just needs the phrase
translated?

“It means- “The words fizzle out on my tongue as Ghost turns to face me completely. His eyes
glassed over and slightly foggy. I know that look all too well, it’s the same one Johnny has when
he recalls his various memories from his deployments. The expression haunts me to my soul as I
know they’ve both just been pushed heads first into their own wartime memories.

“I know what it means.” Ghost’s words are harsh as he whips his head forward to stare out into the
backyard. A few agonizing minutes pass between the two soldiers and I sit there silently finishing
off my coffee as they tend to their emotional wounds in their own way. I watch as Johnny comes
to with a shake of his head and an apologetic smile sent my way to which I send him a small sad
smile back. I watch Ghost blink once and then twice as his gaze clears moments later. “Sorry, just
wasn’t a good time when I learned the phrase.” I watch as Ghost turns to Johnny, and they share a
look before Ghost nods softly as if they’ve exchanged words between their gazes. I’m left out of
the conversation much to my disappointment.
“It’s fine you don’t have to explain anything to me,” I say gently to both of them and all they do is
nod in response. I let a few more minutes of crushing silence pass between us before I speak.
“Well since my two-week vacation starts today let’s go to town,” I say, and before they can send
me their rebukes, which I know are coming I continue talking. “We’ll stock up on groceries and
I’ll cook tonight,” I say trying to bribe Johnny into siding with me. I see his expression turn
intrigued at the mention of food. “We can hide out here the rest of the weekend I promise,” I say
gently.

“Sure,” Johnny says after another quick shared glance with Ghost. “We can stop at Hamilton’s and
get the hardware to hang those security cameras you bought too,” Johnny speaks after Ghost
excuses himself to change out masks and I frown at the mention of the locally owned hardware
store I work at. I’m the supervisor in charge of the lawn and garden section and I don’t really want
to end up back in there on the first day of my vacation.

“I’d rather eat nails,” I say stiffly after a minute or two as Ghost comes back out in a plain black
face mask and matching beanie. His sunglasses are clipped to his shirt collar for the time being, so
I watch as he scrunches his ashen blonde eyebrows together in confusion. “He wants me to go with
him to the hardware store so he can use my discount.” I elaborate my tone still heated with
annoyance.

“Oh lassie,” Johnny says shaking his head in mock disbelief. I quirk a brow up at him in response
as Ghost leans into the railing next to Johnny seemingly content to watch our argument roll on.
“They love me there. They’ll give me your discount and you can wait in the truck.” At Johnny’s
overconfident words, it’s my turn to fall apart in an anarchic wave of laughter. I’m wheezing by
the time Johnny kicks my feet in annoyance.

“What about the paint can incident?” I ask in between chaotic giggles and my laughter increases
ten-fold when I see Johnny’s expression flatten in annoyance. I can still visualize a sixteen-year-
old Johnny coming to pick me up from Hamilton’s on my second day there. I had just finished
mopping the front and stacking up our new line of house paints in a pyramid by the registers and to
my dismay, as Johnny leaned forward onto the counter to flirt with the clerk he slipped on the wet
floors and went falling into the display. I still have the picture of him lying amongst the spilled
one-gallon buckets covered in various shades of paint saved to my phone. I laugh out again as
Johnny finishes explaining the story to a now unsurprised Ghost.
“Well did you get the clerk?” Ghost asks as we finally head towards Johnny’s beat-up burnt
orange ford ranger that used to belong to our dad. Johnny blushes as he unlocks the driver’s side
door and lets me in first before I settle into the middle of the old bench-style seating and Ghost
settles next to me. “Well?” Ghost asks again, his voice deepened slightly with frustration as
Johnny starts the truck and we peel out towards the main road.

“No, I reckon I didn’t.” At Johnny’s admission, the whole truck is full of chaotic laughter as we
start our hour-long drive into town.

```

After an hour or so later we’re walking into Hamilton’s Johnny leading the way me slightly behind
him and Ghost trailing me. The masked man has also slipped on his sunglasses, and I can’t help
but wonder if it’s a lifeline for him to not allow any trace of vulnerability to be seen. If I was
hiding behind my stationery, I’d ask him about it but we’re not exchanging letters here in
Scottland. No. Whatever I say I get to see Ghost’s reaction and hear the way his voice sounds with
his answering reply firsthand.

“Oh no!” I hear my boss Brodie Hamilton’s voice call from the front registers to our left and all
three of us turn towards the heavily freckled ginger with hazel eyes. He’s lanky with barely any
hint of muscle hiding behind his green work smock and I cringe slightly. Even though he’s the
owner’s son and only four years older than Johnny and me he looks our age despite how immature
and forward he acts. “Someone hide the paint cans!” Brodie says cupping his hands around his
mouth to amplify his words and Johnny laughs loudly but Ghost remains unreadable. “Good to see
ya back home MacTavish,” Brodie says as he moves from behind the counter to stand in front of
our trio.

“Aye Brodie,” Johnny says nodding towards Ghost. “This is my friend from the military, Ghost.”
I notice Johnny doesn’t bring up Ghost’s rank and I can’t help thinking it’s intentional. I see
Brodie reach out to extend a hand to Ghost. The masked giant takes firmly giving it a good shake.

“Cheers,” Ghost says flatly in greeting as he drops Brodie’s hand after a few seconds as if the
physical contact had singed his palm. I can’t help but smile at how domestic Ghost’s greeting
sounds it reminds me of the relaxed tone in which he writes his letters. And suddenly I’m
homesick but not for my cottage but for a person I’m trying to desperately keep locked inside my
heart. Simon. I long to call out to Ghost to just convey how much he truly means to me with just
that one word. That one name. Instead, I clench my jaw together so roughly I’m scared my teeth
will crack if I tighten down anymore.

“What’re you doing here on your first day of vacation Bonnie?” Brodie asks and I flinch at the pet
name and the way his hazel eyes drift down my body every so slightly. I swear I hear Ghost suck
in a harsh breath but before I can analyze it Johnny answers for me.

“Need the stuff to hang some security cameras.” Johnny stuffs his hands into his short pockets as
he speaks and seconds later Brodie’s lanky and freckled arm is looped around my shoulders
tugging me into his chest as he turns towards the right side of the store.

“This way then,” Brodie calls with a chuckle dragging me along as he shows us to the right section
even though he knows I know where it is. I can’t see Ghost’s gaze when I glance over my shoulder
to look at him quickly, but I can feel the heat of it on the back of my neck. Before I can think too
much about it, I’m pulled into Brodie and Johnny’s conversation and I’m quick to force out a fake
laugh at a terrible pun Brodie says. Gods, I hate this. I think sourly as my glare lands on Brodie’s
freckled hand that still rests on my shoulder as we walk further into the hardware store.
 Chapter 3
Chapter Notes

Hey guys! Thank you so much for almost 600 hits! I can't believe how many people
have read my dumb little self-indulgence fic! I promise we'll get to see the cold
militaristic side of Ghost and Soap eventually in this story I just don't want anyone
thinking I'm downplaying just how dangerous they truly can be. Anyways, after the
time skip in this chapter there's a slight mention of virginity and vibrators so if you
would like to skip that section I'd skip to the next speaking line after the time skip! A
quick update on the crack ship of Keegan x Reader x Ghost smut oneshot is that it's
halfway done and should be done sometime next week, so if you're interested, keep an
eye out for it. Other than that thank you so much for reading and please feel free to
leave a kudos, comment, and or bookmark this fic if you want! See you
Wednesday/Thursday with an update! Have a great day and or night!

I just want Brodie to shut the ever-loving fuck up. We’ve been standing by the registers for thirty
minutes now listening to him rant and rave about this and that, Johnny seems somewhat into the
conversation, but I can only focus on every other word. I just want to go to the grocery store across
the street so we can go home. Is that too much for a girl to ask for? Yes, yes, it is because Brodie
is still running his mouth. I glance quickly to my right to find Ghost standing silently beside me so
close that my shoulder brushes against his bicep with every breath I take. Gods, why is he so
much taller than me? Plus, he’s so laden with muscles, that it was like he’d honed his body to
become the most efficient weapon he could use against others. Something rotten buries itself in my
chest, I know they do dangerous stuff for the military, but I can’t help to wonder just how violent
their jobs truly were. Johnny’s phone ringing breaks me out of my thoughts and I tear my gaze
away from Ghost who had begun to play around on his own phone.

“Excuse me,” Johnny tips his head towards us and then answers his phone and raises it to his ear.
“This is MacTavish speak,” my twin says his stern greeting into his phone as he walks out of
Hamilton’s and onto the street. Leaving Ghost and me alone with an annoying Brodie. I can’t
help but to mentally curse my brother for his abandonment. I see Ghost shift to slide his phone
back into the pocket of his jeans and before Brodie can even think of what lame-ass story to tell us
next Ghost is speaking.

“He’s our ride so,” Ghost gestures towards the door with a nod of his head as he grabs the shopping
bag off of the register counter. “Nice meeting you.” Ghost’s words aren’t unkind, but they aren’t
pleasant either and when he turns his body to give me enough room to walk around him, I know
he’s waiting for me to exit the shop first. Hell, he doesn’t have to tell me twice. I’m moving
towards the doors and the mountain of a masked man is following behind me on my heels. Before
we’re out of the doors I remember Brodie is still technically my boss, so I toss a pleasant ‘see ya’
over my shoulder towards him as we step out onto the sidewalk out front. I glance around and find
Johnny leaning against the hood of his truck with a wicked grin coating his face as he shakes his
head in mock disbelief at us. My expression falls into confusion. Why’s he looking at us like
that? I turn to face Ghost slightly and Johnny breaks out into a howl of heated laughter.

“You are unbelievable Ghost,” Johnny screeches in between his cackles as he leans forward to rest
his palms against his knees. And here I am once again left out of some kind of conversation
they’ve had in some unspoken language I’m unfamiliar with. “Just because you want out of a
conversation doesn’t mean you just call me so we can have an excuse to leave!” Johnny’s
reprimand isn’t even half-hearted as he continues to wheeze out laughter. Wait. That’s why Ghost
had gotten out his phone? Was he just as annoyed by Brodie as I was? I thought his stiffened
muscles had just meant indifference towards the whole situation and not frustration. I watch the
masked Englishman shrug nonchalantly.

“He didn’t know when to shut up.” Ghost’s voice is like gravel against my nervous system and I’m
glad for the summer heat because it’s an easy way to excuse the blush that heats up under my
skin. I feel a proud smirk lifting up the corners of my mouth as I give my head a quick shake to try
and keep myself from laughing. “Didn’t wanna just bark at him to shut the fuck up,” Ghost says,
and I can hear the sneer in his tone even if his sunglasses and mask still fully hide his expression.
Every time I look at him, I can’t help but imagine his facial features, hell I’ve never even seen this
man’s hair or ears and yet here I am helplessly in love with him. Finally, Johnny calms himself
down.

“Good one,” I say giving Ghost a playful punch to his shoulder and I freeze at the thickly corded
muscles that don’t even slightly budge underneath my semi-forceful punch. Ghost tilts his head
down towards me and before I can stop myself my palm flattens out against his collarbone. Damn,
it’s so tiny when splayed out on his muscular frame. If it weren’t for his slight flinch under my
touch, I don’t think I would’ve removed myself from him. “Sorry,” I rush out and turn back to
Johnny to see his azure-hued gaze has turned into a teasing glare as he quirks an eyebrow up at us.
If Ghost wasn’t here, I’d probably bare my teeth at my twin in an ugly sneer but he’s right behind
me, so I keep my face neutral.

“It’s fine,” Ghost says in a tone I’ve never heard from him. It’s slightly coy but it’s mixed with a
heavy dose of saccharinity that makes those ever-present heated cogs and gears of lust whirr to life
in my lower stomach. “Groceries now then?” Ghost’s accent only adds to the buzzing electricity
under my skin as he places the bag from the hardware store into the tailgate of Johnny’s truck.

“Aye,” Johnny says, and I move to follow my twin across the street, and without looking back I
know Ghost is shadowing my steps. He’s almost like a puppy with how he has to be right behind
either Johnny or me. The thought makes me smile in a soft way because I can’t not admire his
mannerisms. “What’re you thinking of cooking tonight?” Johnny asks as we step onto the
sidewalk in front of the local grocery store: Walsh’s Food Market. I pause slightly and regain my
train of thought after shifting my mental tracks away from my love for the masked Englishman
behind us and back towards the task at hand.

“Scotch pie and tatties?” I say more like a question than an answer and by the way Johnny eagerly
pulls me into him I know he’s excited about the dishes I’ve picked out.

“You’re amazing hen,” Johhny says as I’m crushed into his chest in a dramatic hug and I’m
screeching out chaotic giggles in return as I try and wriggle out of his grasp.

“Let go of me!” I hiss though there’s no trace of venom lacing my words as I struggle against my
twin’s muscular grasp. Johnny shakes his head no and tightens down on his hug. I manage to get
one arm free from his chest and I’m waving it blindly towards Ghost trying to get his attention.
“Help!” I whine out to Ghost and to my surprise, I see him just shake his head ‘no’ gently out of
the corner of my eye.

“If you make me a Dundee cake, I’ll let ya go,” Johnny says between his giggles and despite how
much I’ve missed my twin’s hugs and crazed antics I’m eager to agree with him just to get this
grocery trip over and done with.

“Alright, alright Johnny,” I say with a giggle as he finally releases me, and I take a step backwards
trying to smooth down my now crazed hair. A few seconds later Johnny and I step towards the
front door of Walsh’s but when Ghost doesn’t follow, we both turn to face him with the exact same
questioning expression taking over our faces.

“Tab time,” Ghost says his tone plain, and when Johnny and I share an even more confused glance
at each other over the phrase we glance back to Ghost, and the masked man lets out a dry huff of
laughter. “A quick smoke,” Ghost says as he pulls his pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket to
wiggle it at us, Johnny and I nod in unison before telling him where to find us once he’s inside the
store. With one more glance over my shoulder at Ghost as he turns his back to us Johnny and I
enter the store and grab a cart and Johnny pushes it alongside us.
“So, you and Ghost seem to get along,” Johnny speaks after about ten or so minutes of silence
passes between us, and I freeze. My grip tightens on a ten-pound bag of potatoes as I slug it up and
into the cart. There’s no way he can know about how deeply I care for his Lieutenant. For all
Johnny knows we’re just good pals. I cringe at how pathetic that thought sounds.

“He’s a nice lad,” I say feigning indifference towards the situation as I begin to inspect a very
uninteresting sack of yellow onions. I hear Johnny grunt in annoyance before I suck on my teeth in
displeasure at how unconvinced that grunt sounded. I heft the sack of onions into the cart as we
move towards the spice aisle. “Why’re ya asking?” I say and cringe slightly at how thickly my
own Scottish accent clings to my venom-filled question. I watch as Johnny’s grip tightens on the
handle of the cart he’s pushing. We enter the spice aisle and I begin to grab the few herbs I had
run out of a few days ago.

“I just don’t want either of the most important people in my life to hide anything from me.”
Johnny’s words are fierce and heavy with bitterness and I’m quick to feel my own aggravation rise
up into my own body in the form of a thick lump in my throat. Johnny turns to plant a serious glare
on me, and I’m instantly pinned to the spot where I stand. “Are you hiding something?” The tone
that his question is whispered in cracks at my heart painfully. But I hold my resolve steady in my
chest.

“No, I’m not,” I say in a heated tone as I try and cover up my lie from someone who could tell I
was lying through a handwritten letter halfway across the world. And even though his dark brown
eyebrows scrunch together like he doesn’t believe a word I’ve said Johnny lets it go as I move to
place the dried herbs into our cart. I see Johnny’s mouth tighten into a thin line and relax quickly
and then repeat the same movement two times in a row. I instantly know that he’s on the verge of
starting an argument.

“(Y/N)!” I hear Alba Stewart’s soprano-pitched tone and instantly I’m thankful that my childhood
best friend just happens to be in the market at the same time that we are. “You never texted me
back that you got home fine from the airport!” Alba scolds and walks towards us from the
registers and as I take in her ebony-hued curls that fall voluminously around her hips I roll my eyes
at her as she comes to stand in front of us. Her denim-hued eyes reply to my eye roll with one of
their own as she pulls down the edge of her dark green tee shirt dress she’s currently wearing. I see
her eyes search for Ghost before pulling me into a hug, she’s the only person in the entire world
that knows I’m in love with him and I just pray it stays that way. I’m hugging her back, thankful
for her silent support in my hopeless romantic life. She pulls away from me before she pulls
Johnny into a hug to which he picks her up and spins her around like an idiot. I guess he’s still as
hopelessly in love with her as she is with him. “Johnny-boy! Glad you're home!” Alba bites out in
a wave of giggles as her arms tighten around Johnny’s shoulders. I smile sweetly at the idiots who
are too stupid to realize how they feel for one another.

“Good to be back,” Johnny says a thick blush coating his cheekbones and temples. “How’re you
fairing bonnie?” He says leaning back towards the cart and I’m surprised he doesn’t fall on his ass
and miss the cart completely. As they fall into their own conversation, I see Ghost turn down the
aisle and come to stand behind me. “Alba this is Ghost, Ghost this is Alba.” Johnny introduces
them and I flinch when Alba’s teasing denim gaze lands on mine after they exchange polite words.
A few more minutes of pleasant conversation are passed around between us, and I’m surprised that
Ghost is relaxed enough to get a few one-liners in on the conversation. It makes me so happy to
see them getting along.

“Well, I’ve got a date in ten over at Books and Brews, so I’ll call you when I get home,” Alba says
her goodbyes and then addresses me about the phone call. I see Johnny deflate slightly at the
mention of her date and I agree to call her as she heads towards the checkout with the pack of gum
she’d come in for. As we continue our shopping, I can’t help but join in on Ghost’s teasing
towards Johnny and the situation he’s made for himself regarding Alba. As we walk through the
aisles, I find myself soaking in the domestic sense of peace between our trio and I wish that the
moments like these would never come to an end.

`````

Hot and flustered I put down the smutty romance novel I’d been reading after dinner and shake my
wine fogged head. I’d decided to take a break before cleaning up the kitchen and putting away the
leftovers, so I curled up in one of my rocking chairs on the back porch with a glass of wine and was
content to read a few chapters of my book. Perhaps reading smut when I’m only a few rooms away
from the man I cannot help but hope will ruin me in the best way possible isn’t the best idea? But
what is a girl to do when any boyfriend she’s had was too afraid of doing anything sexual towards
her because of her idiot twin brother because he threatened to castrate every person, she’d ever
brought home? So that’s why I’m a twenty-six-year-old virgin who gets her pleasure from smutty
novels and vibrators. Plus, I’ve never had a connection with anyone that’s made me desire
someone so intensely as I desire Ghost now. So maybe it’s okay that I haven’t gone all the way
with any of my previous boyfriends before. Not like it matters anyway, Ghost and I will never be
in that kind of scenario with each other despite how much I long to. Standing and stretching out my
limbs I place my book down on the coffee table next to Ghost’s ashtray as I enter the cottage
through the glass sliding door next to the kitchen. My gaze lands on Ghost and Soap cracking
open a beer bottle each in the now spotless kitchen and I find myself smiling up to both of them as
I move to wash my wine glass out in the kitchen sink.
 “Thanks, but I said I would’ve cleaned up,” I say to no one in particular as I slide the soapy
sponge around the rim of my wine glass. I hear Johnny step out onto the back porch as he huffs
away my thanks and I find myself standing next to Ghost who’s traded his beanie and surgical
mask for a form-fitting black balaclava with a printed image of the lower half of a skull in blood
red. At least I can steal glances at his cinnamon and gold-flecked eyes now. I watch as he fixes his
gaze on his beer bottle, and picks at the label slightly.

“You cooked so it was the least we could do,” Ghost’s voice is a deep rumble that makes the
heated cogs and gears that had been grinding together since I started reading an hour ago increase
their speed tenfold. I nod as I feel my face heat up and I’m prepared to blame it on my glass of
wine if I need to. I continue to scrub at the wine glass even though I know it’s clean just wanting
to see if he’ll say anything else. From the way his ashen blonde brows knit together and relax a
few times I know he’s either thinking or debating something. As I place the wine glass on the dish
caddy on the counter to dry, I turn to him and he turns to face me as well. “Thanks for letting me
taste your infamous cooking.” Ghost places the emphasis on a reference to his first letter to me and
I’m standing here shell-shocked. I blink up at him trying to form a response but before I can even
formulate a facial expression other than surprise Ghost is stepping onto the back porch and pulling
the sliding door closed behind him. I take a few seconds to calm my racing heart before I turn and
head towards the stairs seeking the solitude of my room and a private place to process my frazzled
thoughts. I’d been doing so well separating Ghost and Simon into two separate people up until
now and here I am shutting my bedroom door behind me gently utterly confused about
everything. I cross the room to my mahogany stationery desk and then I’m rummaging through the
bottom right drawer which I’ve dedicated to Simon’s letters. Grabbing the first one I find; I grip it
delicately as I move to sit on the edge of my bed. Unfolding it I let my eyes eagerly devour the
words on the page.

Dear (Y/N),

I’m sorry to hear about the full truckload of dead Christmas trees that arrived at work for you. I
bet you and your boss weren’t buzzin’ about the lost funds over those trees. I’m not very good at
keeping plants alive so I guess I can sympathize with the truck driver slightly. One time I bought
some sort of a small succulent to bring with me to base when I first became a Lieutenant and two
weeks later the wanker had gone and died on me. I’ve not tested my green thumb since then but
maybe you could give me a few tips on parenting a plant the next time I’m back in Scotland with
Johnny. And to answer your question, it’s not always so sad here on base it’s just hard not to miss
your own when the holidays roll around. I don’t have anyone to miss so it doesn’t bother me
much. Well, let me know if you have any other questions for me or if anything else important
happens you want to rant about. I’m here to listen.

Yours Truly,

Simon Riley. 1-17-20xx

P.S. I even named the little plant and everything! Talk about a letdown when the wanker died.
I shouldn’t have read the letter. Tears are brimming up heavily in my eyes as I gently fold the
letter up and stand to place it back in its resting place. Reading that letter did nothing to calm my
frazzled thoughts and feelings. If anything, it just solidified my love for Simon which I’ll never be
able to own up to. Gritting as my tears roll down onto my cheeks, I feel my chest ache and cleave
in two. How can I be so heartbroken and lonely when the man I love is out on the back porch
having a beer with my twin? I should be ecstatic and down there hanging out with them. But
Simon doesn’t love me back and I’m trapped up here crying alone in my room. My gaze lands on
the group of handmade figurines in silver gum wrappers resting on my stationery desk and my gaze
lands on a hand-shaped succulent resting in a pot, and I allow myself a pitiful sob. Gods, this is
torture. Silently crying I ready myself for bed and shoot Alba a quick message that I’m not feeling
well, and I’ll call her in the morning. As I tuck myself into bed, I can hear faint laughter coming
from outside due to my cracked window. Rolling onto my side to face my pale grey wall I begin to
cry heavily. I cry until exhaustion wraps its nasty claws around my psyche and pulls me under into
the inky void of sleep.
 Chapter 4
Chapter Notes

Hey Guys! Thanks so much for 900 reads! I'm shocked by the amount of people who
have been enjoying this fic so far. No trigger warnings for this chapter! I'm more than
halfway done with my Ghost x Reader x Keegan smut oneshot so that should be out
soon! Anyways, thank you so much for reading. Please feel free to comment, leave a
kudos, or bookmark this fic! I'll see y'all on Wednesday/Thursday with the next
chapter! Have a great day and or night!

Beep. Scrape. Beep. I freeze my electric toothbrush held inches from my mouth as an electronic
beeping and scraping noise comes blaring at me from outside. It’s barely eight in the morning so
what in the hell could be going outside at this time? Spitting my toothpaste in the sink and rinsing
my mouth out before placing my toothbrush back into its holder, I move to walk into the upstairs
hallway. Both Johnny and Ghost’s bedroom doors are wide open and their rooms vacant so I’m
sure the duo is the cause of whatever that noise is. Beep, beep, crunch, beep. I freeze as the
beeping picks up again but this time with the after-effect of something crunching over gravel. Oh,
fuck this. I think to myself as I jog down the stairs and out the front door barefoot in nothing but an
emerald, green sleepshirt and dark grey gym shorts. Squinting at the early morning sun as I step
onto my front porch and close the cherry red door behind me, I freeze. My idiot twin brother is
directing some other idiot driving a large box truck like the kind someone would rent to move. I
turn to see Ghost in plain hunter-green joggers, a form-fitting dark grey workout shirt, and a plain
black balaclava covering his face. Before I can get lost in how the sunlight shines off his tattooed
forearms illuminating the shadowy swirls and whorls my attention turns back towards Johnny and
the backing up truck. My eyes widen in alarm, the truck is heading straight for my two-tone peach
rose bushes that have taken me three years to grow large enough to frame the entire edge of the
walkway to the front door and frame the driveway to our carport. I’ll murder them all if even a
single petal or thorn is disturbed. Before I can move forwards or shout out a defense for my roses
someone beats me to it.

“Oi!” Ghost’s full of aggression in a way I’ve never heard of as he quickly stalks across the lawn
heading for the driver’s side door of the moving truck. The truck continues in its murder attempt
on my rose bushes but Ghost’s large hand slamming down on the frame of the box truck has its
brakes squealing as it skids to a stop a mere inch from my rose bushes. I let loose a breath I hadn’t
even realized I’d been holding in. “Are you blind?” Ghost seethes to the male driver of the truck
and I see the worker flinch in on himself. “If you so much as shift a single petal on any of those
roses, I swear I’ll- “Ghost had been gesturing animatedly towards the rose bushes as he threatened
the truck driver, but the masked man didn’t finish his threat when that infuriated cinnamon and
gold-flecked gaze landed on me. And thanks to whatever cruel deity is in charge of my pathetic
life that gaze instantly softens and I swear he’d be smiling softly if his expression wasn’t covered
by a balaclava. Just what I needed when I was trying my hardest to deny my feelings for him. My
smile is bright as I shake my head indignantly at how he was the only other person here who
seemed to care about my roses and their safety. I hope he can’t notice how I’m blushing. Ghost’s
expression slides into anger seconds later as he whips his face back towards the driver. “Mind the
bloody roses would ya?” Ghost spits his words as takes over guiding the truck for Johnny. His
mood swings are either going to trigger a migraine or give me emotional whiplash and I don’t
know which would be worse.

“Morning sis,” Johnny calls cheerfully to me as he crosses the lawn in a pair of grey basketball
shorts and a plain purple sleep shirt. Johnny climbs the porch steps to stand next to me and I send
him a glare that I know he’ll read as a warning for my rose bushes’ near-death experience. My
glare causes him to shift his azure-hued gaze back to Ghost who helps back the truck up towards
the metal carport next to the cottage.

“What’s in there?” I ask hatefully as I turn towards Johnny who’s now stalking across the porch to
watch the truck that has now parked directly in front of the carport. I slowly follow after my twin
my body lacking its much-needed dose of caffeine before this social interaction.

“I had Ghost’s motorbike shipped here from England,” Johnny says over his shoulder as we come
to stand against the porch railing. I lean on my forearms against it at the same time my twin does,
and I shoot him a sneer before he can start preaching about that twin intuition bullshit again. “It’s
a Yamaha YZF R3,” Johnny tells me like I’ll know what that means. I recognize the brand
because it’s the same one as Johnny’s motorbike, but the rest of the explanation is instantly lost on
me. I watch as the truck driver puts the vehicle in park and climbs out of the driver’s seat to help
unload the motorbike.

“Isn’t yours a Yamaha too?” I ask as Ghost disappears behind the truck and seconds later so does
the truck driver. I don’t even have to glance at my twin to know he’s rolling his eyes in annoyance
at my question.

“Aye, but it’s an R6, not an R3,” Johnny speaks with a chuckle as we hear a groan of metal, and
the truck door is pulled upwards and open. He also speaks so nonchalantly like I’ll get whatever
the Rs and numbers mean about their motorbikes.

“Of course,” I agree with my twin just to shut up any motorbike-themed rant he’s concocting in his
head. I watch as the truck driver puts down the ramp and Ghost climbs into the truck to unload his
motorbike and seconds later, he emerges on the beast walking it down the ramp. The bodywork is
in a custom matte black shade while the leather seat, tire rims, grips on the handles, and framing a
deep blood-red shed that shimmers in the early morning sun. I’ve never found a biker hot before
but the sight of Ghost just walking his motorbike into the protection of the carport has my stomach
fluttering and electricity buzzing incessantly under my skin. I have to pull my gaze away before I
literally start drooling at the way his arms flex and the corded muscles roll under the grip he has
wrapped around the handles of his bike. What would those muscular hands feel wrapped around
my waist? My throat? I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “So, you two planning on a ride?” I
ask Johnny as he pulls out his phone to tap away on some random app.

“Maybe, I just know he said he missed his bike last time he was here.” My twin speaks his tone
bored as he plays around his phone. I know just how much Ghost enjoys his motorbike; he’s told
me over the pages of his plain stationery multiple times. The only thing he wouldn’t tell me was
his bike’s name no matter how many times I begged him to, I know Johnny named his bike
Heughan after his favorite actor from the show Outlander. Me and Alba forced him to watch it
with us and he unironically loved it. I’m sure Ghost has named his as well especially after the
confession that he’d named his succulent.

“Cheers,” Ghost’s voice is full of malice as he slips the driver a tip and walks back out from the
carport. My smile returns as I watch Ghost cross his thick arms over his chest and watch intently
that the truck doesn’t harm any of my roses as it pulls out of the driveway and onto the main road.
Gods, do I love that man. I’m quick to frown knowing that he’ll never be mine in the way I crave
to be his. “Morning,” Ghost’s voice lights up from the darkened way he spoke to the truck driver
as he calls a greeting to me. I curse my heart when it nearly skips a beat.

“Good morning,” I reply as Ghost rounds the porch and climbs the steps to stand with Johnny and
me. “You and Johnny going for a ride later?” I squeak out before coughing to clear my throat. At
this Ghost leans down as if to examine and I watch as his ashen blonde brows knit together through
the opening of his balaclava.

“You alright love?” His tone is so rich I’m surprised I didn’t swoon right then and there, holding
my composure steady I manage a stiff nod. Ghost straightens his posture and when I glance to my
left at Johnny, he’s staring up at us with that same questioning glare that’s taken over his azure
eyes these past few days. I look away quickly and my gaze is quick to land on my bare feet. “Up
to him,” Ghost answers my question with a shrug, and I nod still looking at my feet.
“Well, I’m gonna call Alba and make a pot of coffee,” I say excusing myself and heading inside
the cottage and up the stairs. I cross into my room and grab my phone off my dark wood
nightstand where it’s been charging since last night. I quickly read Alba’s goodnight text before I
press call on her contact. It rings three times before she answers.

“(Y/N), you feeling any better?” Alba asks first her words tender and tired as I stalk out of my
room and into the hallway.

“I’m fine Alba, just tired that’s all.” I lie knowing that I’ll have to text her or wait till we’re both
alone to try and discuss and updates on the ‘hopelessly in love with my twin’s masked lieutenant’
situation. “So how was your date?” I ask as I finish descending the stairs to find Johnny and Ghost
both in the kitchen cooking up breakfast, I hide my smile when Johnny inclines his head towards
me clearly interested in how Alba’s date has gone.

“It was awful,” she hisses into my ear as I hold my phone against it with my shoulder. Moving into
the kitchen and heading for the coffee bar next to the fridge I have to squeeze in next to Ghost
who’s pawing through the open fridge.

“Really? I’m sorry m’eudail.” I say to Alba as grab my coffee grounds and filter and begin to place
them into the pot. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ghost turn a confused gaze onto Johnny who
quickly explains what ‘m’eudail’ means and if I weren’t so concerned about how my best friend is
doing, I might laugh at the exchange. “What happened?” I ask and see Johnny’s teasing
expression drop into concern as he realizes her date has gone wrong.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” Alba huffs out in a dry laugh as I grab the glass pot and cross
the room to the sink to fill it up. “Are you busy today? Any plans with the boys?” She asks me
her voice pleading and I know she’s most likely wanting me to show up to her flat with ice cream,
takeout, and wine later on this evening or to go out and get lost in nature for a few hours. There’s
no in-between for her. I shut off the faucet and carefully cross the room with the full pot thankful
that Ghost and Johnny stay out of my walkway.

“No, Johnny and Ghost might go out on their bikes later so I’m free,” I answer pouring the water
into the top of the coffee pot and moving to place the empty pot under the spout and press the brew
button. Johnny now turns away from the eggs he’d been scrambling on the stove, his gaze lighting
up at the aspect of seeing Alba again so soon. “Why?” I ask in a hum.
“Ghost shipped his bike here?” Alba asks and I answer with a quick ‘yes’ hoping she’ll go ahead
and ask me to hang out already. I love her but sometimes that girl is just too nosy for her own
good. “I don’t want to sit around in our jammies and mope today,” Alba whines out to me in mock
anguish.

“We don’t have to mope around in our jammies,” I say with a laugh watching as my coffee pot
finally starts spitting out my favorite beverage. I see Ghost shake his head at my statement as if
trying to hide his laughter and Johnny rolls his eyes with a knowing smile. If it were me in the
throes of a bad date or a breakup, I’d simply want three things: Alba, takeout, and shitty eighties
rom-com movies. “What do you want to do?” I ask Alba as I open the cupboard above the coffee
pot, and I lean up on my toes to try and grab the only clean mug on the top shelf. I come up short
and before I can climb onto the butcherblock countertop a lofty muscular frame leans into my back
as a giant hand grasps the mug I’d been after. I shudder into the warmth and the smell of tobacco
and something sweet and spicy. Whiskey maybe? Or a bourbon-inspired cologne? I know it’s
Ghost who sets the white mug down in front of me on the counter and before I can turn to smile
my thanks he’s crossed back over to Johnny on the other side of the fridge. Ghost reprimands him
for his poor cooking skills and I try to hide my blush.

“Let’s go to the lake?” Alba asks into my ear her tone light with hope, and I smile. I hadn’t gone
swimming, yet this summer and it was already almost mid-June, what a wonderful idea. I can’t
hide my excitement as I pour myself a generous amount of coffee and move to open the fridge and
get my creamer out.

“I’d love to go to the lake,” I say adding the right amount of creamer into my coffee. “We can
even get dinner from the pub up that way,” I say and try not to laugh when Johnny whips towards
me at the mention of not only swimming but food. I hear Alba let out a ‘whoop’ of celebration and
I can’t stop myself from chuckling as I put up my creamer.

“I’ll drive over, and we can leave from your place,” Alba giggles out and I’m sure she’s about to
hang up on me and get ready. She doesn’t. “Oh! Invite Johnny-boy and Ghost will ya? They can
take us on their bikes.” Alba rushes out in a tumble, and I hear herself squeak and I instantly know
she’s rolled off her bed and onto her carpet. I hesitate drifting my gaze onto the men who are now
dishing up three plates of semi-burnt scrambled eggs and toast. “Ask them!” Alba shouts so
viciously that I flinch in on myself as I turn towards the men.
“Alba wants to know if you guys wanna take us to the lake on your bikes and hang out?” I ask my
gaze landing on Johnny as his eyes light up in excitement at the question. Ghost’s cinnamon and
gold-flecked gaze stays neutral but lands on me intently. “You don’t have to,” I say after a long
pause between us three. Ghost and Johnny share another silent conversation between their gazes,
and I’m left out once again. Something ugly and heated buries itself in my spine. They turn away
from each other and Ghost gathers up his plate and excuses himself to go eat upstairs in the privacy
of his room. I turn to Johnny confused as I hear Alba hiss out a bored ‘well’.

“We’ll go just tell her she has to wear the riding leathers I bought her,” Johnny says taking his plate
and heading for the small round dining table.

“I heard him!” Alba peeps out animatedly and I hear her shower cut on. “I’ll be there in a few
hours, love ya.” Seconds later the phone beeps as the call is ended. Rolling my eyes, I pocket my
phone into the waistband of my shorts before grabbing my plate and joining my twin at the dining
table.

“You could just ask her out,” I say sitting down across from Johnny and taking a deep drag of my
coffee. Johnny shovels a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth and sets a hateful azure-hued
glare on me. I laugh and scoop up my own portion of scrambled eggs onto my fork.

“Haud yer wheesht!” Johnny hisses at me as he swallows his food and I ignore him with a hum as
I take my first bite of breakfast. I grimace at the charred-tasting eggs.

`````

“Damn girl! Your arse looks amazing in those!” Alba shouts from the entryway as I walk down
the stairs in my cherry red leather riding pants and matching jacket. I’m wearing my plain black
bikini underneath it with my hair braided in one thick plait down my back. Alba is done up in a
matching navy-blue leather set with her ebony curls tied up in space buns on the top of her head.
Johnny had gotten the riding leathers for us two Christmases ago stating he was tired of us
borrowing his riding leathers when he took us for rides. He also bought us our own helmets.
“I don’t have an arse,” I state with a huff as I slip on my black combat boots. Seconds later we’re
walking out the front door and down the porch steps where Johnny and Ghost wait both in plain
black riding leathers. They’re leaning against their own bikes, and I can’t help but admire the way
Johnny’s bike’s emerald-green body paint shimmers like a gem in the midsummer sun. His accent
color a neon purple unlike how Ghost’s bike is accented in blood red. Ghost who’s still in a plain
black balaclava has his helmet in his hands, and I roll my eyes at the metallic grey skull face at
encompasses the back of the all-black helmet. Johnny’s is just plain black with red and orange
flames that lick up the sides and back. I grab my cherry red helmet from Johnny, and he moves to
grab Alba’s navy-hued one from where it rests on the seat of his bike.

“I’ll ride with Johnny-boy,” Alba exclaims slipping on her helmet and fastening the straps, and
before I can argue she’s seated herself onto the back of Johnny’s bike. Johnny slips on his own
helmet and moves to straddle his bike and Alba wraps her arms around his midriff. That just leaves
me and Ghost standing in the driveway staring at each other awkwardly. Fuck my life.
 Chapter 5
Chapter Notes

Hey guys! Thank you so much for over 1k hits! It makes me so happy to see so many
people enjoying my writing especially since it's feeding into my COD brainrot. No
trigger warnings for this chapter just an apology for it being slightly shorter than my
normal chapter lengths. I'm just struggling to get two college course projects finished
that are due this Sunday so I had to reconfigure how I wanted this chapter to go. I'm
excited to say that my next chapter will be longer than normal to make up for it and
I'm happy to announce we've got a Ghost POV chapter coming up semi-soon!
Anyways feel free to comment, leave a kudos, or bookmark this fic! Thank you so
much for all the feedback and support! Have a great day and or night! See ya next
Wednesday/ Thursday with the next chapter!

The idea of me having to cling onto Ghost while riding on the back of his motorbike should send
those heated gears and cogs to whirr to life in my lower stomach. Only it doesn’t. I’m suddenly
feeling very nauseous so nauseous in fact I’m worried about how I’ll fare on the windy country
roads that lead to the lake that’s a thirty-minute drive from mine and Johnny’s house. Gods, all I
can do is stand here staring up at Ghost and all but foam at the mouth. I wish someone would put
me out of my misery already. Can’t a girl get any peace?

“You alright love?” Ghost asks his deep base pitched voice breaking through my mirage of
thoughts. Oh fuck, how long have I just been standing here staring at the masked Englishman? I
watch as those cinnamon and gold-flecked eyes narrow on my frame accusingly. I struggle to
string any of my thoughts into a coherent sentence. “(Y/N)?” Ghost says my name with so much
concern it makes my chest ache hard. He says it in the way I’ve imagined Simon would when it
came to checking in on me through his letters. I furrow my brows and remind myself that this is
just Ghost and not Simon Riley the man that I’m irrevocably in love with but can’t have. I have to
separate the two if I’m ever going to survive him being here.

“Aye, I’m just peachy,” I say in a way too fake of a sweet tone It’s akin to artificial flavoring for
lemon candy. Disgusting in my personal opinion. I cringe at it myself over it. I slip my cherry red
helmet onto my head and begin to buckle in the straps where it's necessary too. Thanks to Johnny I
know all of our helmets are connected via Bluetooth so as long as I’m in close enough range with
any of them I can hear whatever they deem worthy enough to tell me. However, the only one I’ll
be close enough to during the ride to speak to will be Ghost. Great! I quickly press the speaker
button so I can hear and transmit my thoughts to the others. I watch in silence as Ghost shakes his
head once then twice before getting his own helmet on and strapping into it. “Do you want me to
get on first or?” I ask flicking down my visor when Ghost flicks down his own. I can tell by
Johnny’s bouncing legs that he’s growing restless which undoubtedly means Alba is as well.

“Let me get settled.” Ghost’s gruff voice rings out into my helmet, and I can’t help but close my
eyes briefly to try and savor how close he sounds. Gods, that accent only adds to his already
undeniable sex appeal. When I peel my eyes open again Ghost is seated on his bike with his waist
turned slightly towards me and his dominant hand outstretched. “Come on then,” the masked
giant’s voice blares into my helmet again. It’s inviting and almost somehow always sultry. I
instantly obey Ghost and take the two steps forward to his motorbike. Placing my petite hand in
his much larger one I use him as a brace to swing my leg over the side of his matte black and
blood-red beast of a motorbike. I falter slightly and in my own self-preservation, I use my free
hand to grasp tightly onto Ghost’s muscular shoulder. Thickly corded muscles tense and roll under
my fingertips as I steady myself and find a comfortable perch on the back of the Englishman’s
motorbike. “Easy now sweetheart.” Ghost’s voice calls into my helmet with a following chuckle
it makes me blush and clench down on a sneer all in one. His teasing is infuriating but delicious at
the same time. I could never get enough of it even if it drives me mad.

“I’m fine.” I hiss even though my voice is shaking slightly. I find myself staring at the back of
Ghost’s helmet at the metallic grey skull. It stares back in a grim sneer. I untangle my hands from
Ghost gently grip the sides of the leather seat and use my thighs as leverage as well. I hear
Johnny’s bike roar to life and seconds later he and Alba are shooting off past us like a rocket. I roll
my eyes. Show off much? I wait for Ghost to kick his bike on and roll out, but he hesitates.
“Ghost?” I squeal out in confusion. To my shock, Ghost reaches back for me, and with the gentlest
grasp I’ve ever felt he grabs my wrists and wraps them around his muscular midriff. I’m too
caught off guard to resist him as he makes me lace my fingers together over his abdomen.

“Can’t have you falling off.” Is Ghost’s soft-spoken explanation in what I could almost call an
embarrassed tone if I didn’t think was the type to be easily embarrassed? Before I can form a
response Ghost kicks his bike to life and it thunders heavily under us and then we’re pulling out
onto the road trailing Johnny and Alba. We fall into a comfortable silence for the first ten minutes
or so my grip tightening on Ghost, when necessary, but he never passes or challenges Johnny and
Alba ahead of us. I know he knows how to get to the lake because he and Johnny went down there
last winter for a few hiking trails, so I don’t understand why he’s not showing Johnny up like
usual. Is Ghost holding back because of me? I don’t like the way that thought makes me feel. I
tap my fingers against Ghost’s abdomen to garner his attention and to my annoyance, he slows
down as if that’s what I was asking for.

“Why’re ya poking?” My question is thickly coated by my own Scottish accent, and I know from
the way Ghost tilts his head in thought he’s heard me and he’s mulling over his own response.
Something new zooms through me and maybe it’s because I’m hiding behind the helmet that I let
myself have a small confident moment. “Come on big boy show me what your bike can do,” I say
in a jeering tone a small ounce of sultry heaviness weighs down my statement as I tighten my grip
on Ghost. I feel Ghost stiffen and before I can brace myself or take back my bratty teasing Ghost’s
bike lurches forward in a roar and we’re easily shooting past Johnny and Alba on the road. I can’t
stop myself before I squeal out in delight as I remove one of my arms from Ghost’s abdomen to try
and catch the summer wind that rips around the two of us. Body heat is shared between us, and it
warms me to my very bones as I lean forward further into Ghost’s back. I’ll allow myself this one
small, shared moment of raw emotions. I owe myself that much.

```

Thirty or so minutes later Ghost eases his motorbike to a halt in the gravel parking lot at the main
swimming hole at the lake. Only a few small clusters of college-aged swimmers and a few small
families are here. Thankfully the swimming hole is large enough so that I know we’ll find our
own space easily. Once I feel Ghost put down the kickstand on his bike I move to stand up and
thankfully find his outstretched hand once again to brace myself. Once I’m on solid ground I pull
my hand free of Ghost’s despite wanting to cling desperately to it like a lovesick teenager.

“Thanks,” I say after we’ve both got our helmets off and I watch as Ghost moves to stand and open
the storage compartment on his bike. The masked man huffs away my thanks as he takes my
helmet and stores it gently alongside his own. Johnny and Alba are parked to our left and already
stripped down to their swimwear. A green plain bikini for Alba and navy-blue swimming trunks
with black pinstripes for Johnny. I follow suit and shimmy out of my riding leathers and combat
boots trying to avoid Ghost’s gaze. I see those cinnamon and gold-flecked eyes darken as they
quickly sweep up and down my frame lingering slightly on my black bikini. It makes a deep blush
dig itself into my skin like a needly lover. I’m quick to look away as I fold up my leathers and
hand them to him before grabbing my boots and doing the same so Ghost can shove them into his
storage compartment. Before I can find myself in an awkward conversation with Ghost or
analyzing that gaze, he had just swept over me Alba runs past me nudging me on my shoulder.

“Last one in has to buy dinner!” She screeches and I feel my bank account screaming at me to give
chase. As a broke retail manager, I can’t help but break out into a sprint easily surpassing her, I
wasn’t a football and track star in high school for nothing. I still workout moderately and go for
runs when I can so I’m easily across the parking lot through the grass and onto the dock in mere
seconds. “Slow down you whore!” Alba screeches out in between pants of overexertion but I keep
pushing myself further and further until I leap off the edge of the wooden dock with a ‘whoop’ of
celebration. Icy water crashes into me and I savor the way it chases away the blush that had been
clinging to my skin. I push myself upwards and break the surface of the lake just when Johnny
jumps in after Alba. I frown when I realize Ghost isn’t anywhere in the water near us or on the
dock.

“He’s smoking,” Alba answers my confusion as clings onto my back like a koala trying to pull me
under the water with her. “Come on,” she pleads trying her hardest to dunk us as Johnny comes
back up for air a few feet away from us. “You can be hopelessly in love later. Play with me
now.” Annoyance zooms through me at her bold words and before I can control my reaction, I let
myself fall backward effectively dunking the both of us. I can only pray Johnny was far enough
away to have not heard Alba’s teasing whispers.
````

Forty-five minutes later I find myself hauling my body up onto the dock desperately wanting a
break from swimming I sit down next to Ghost who’s been observing our shenanigans since he
couldn’t swim in his balaclava. Luckily, he’s changed into a matching grey muscle shirt and gym
shorts, so I know he’s not dying of heat exhaustion. Ghost scoots over to make room on the edge
of the dock for me as Alba and Johnny start a new round of ‘Marco Polo’ in the lake.

“Taking a breather?” Ghost asks those cinnamon and gold-flecked eyes dropping down to meet my
own gaze. I nod my breathing still too ragged to speak without it being a raspy string of words. I
watch as Ghost sifts through the pile of phones in his lap and pulls mine out of the stack. I didn’t
even know he’d been holding onto them. “It kept buzzing,” Ghost says extending my phone to
me. I frown as I grab it from him. “I didn’t look at it.” Ghost adds quickly and I giggle at him
trying to reassure me.

“Probably some app,” I say after I’ve caught my breath, and seconds later, I’m frowning. I have
two missed calls from my boss Brodie and one text message. Can’t I enjoy my vacation?
Apparently not. I unlock my phone and read the message.

Brodie: Hey Bonnie give me a call when you can.

I frown hating how my supervisor position means I can’t just ignore his messages while on
vacation. Excusing myself, I stand and walk off towards the gravel parking lot pressing the dial
option on Brodie’s number and pressing my phone to my ear. Gods, I fucking hate Brodie.
 Chapter 6
Chapter Notes

hey guys! A trigger warning for this chapter: there's some very light mention of gore in
the reader's inner monologue. for reference its nothing that is physically happening to
any characters. Anyway, thank so much for all the reads, kudos, comments, and
bookmarks. Feel free to leave more as you please. Have a great day and or night! See
ya next Wednesday\Thursday with the next chapter.

My phone rings once then twice and I’m clenching my jaw in vexation at how long it’s taking
Brodie to answer his godsdamned phone. I can’t help but to pace a line from the edge of the gravel
parking lot all the way to where the hiking trails start at the other end of the lot. It’s a medium
sized distance but still far away enough that I have to squint my eyes to try and make out the dock
where Ghost sits as a vigil over Johnny and Alba who are still splashing around in the lake. My
phone has rung seven times and I’m considering hanging it up and just turning it off for the rest of
the day when I hear the call connect with a soft beep.

“(Y/N),” Brodie’s tenor pitched voice rings into my ear, and I have to fight back the venom that
wants to dig its ugly fangs in my chest in the form of uncomfortable tightness. Why can’t I just
ever catch a fucking break? “It’s so nice to hear from my favourite bonnie.” Brodie’s voice is
heavy with sheepishness in a way that makes those venom filled fangs dig in deeper into my
sternum. It’s almost like my frustration wants to fuse itself into my very soul. Rolling my eyes, I
bite back a hateful response that I can already taste on the tip of my tongue. I swear to all of the
conceivable gods if this man has just created an elaborate scheme to get me to call him, I’ll gut
him- even if I don’t even know how to.

“Brodie,” I cringe at the thick way exasperation clings to his name as it passes my lips. I begin
pacing once again this time heading back towards the dock the others are still hanging around.
“What’s going on?” I ask into my phone skipping past all of the normal niceties’ I would try to
make sure that I addressed my boss with. But Brodie is technically cutting into my vacation time
here so it’s not like I owe him much more than returning his various calls. I deepen my already
existent frown when I hear Brodie clear his throat as a response. Panic zooms up from the base of
my spine and into the center of my chest as if trying to battle my constant provocation for the
empty space. “You said it was important.” I say my tone firm with finality as I stop pacing right
beside Ghost and Johnny’s motorbikes. I look over my shoulder to watch as Johnny hauls himself
onto the dock next to the giant of a masked Englishman who still hasn’t moved from his perch on
the dock.
“Well,” Brodie drags out the syllables in a childish way that reminds me of my twin Johnny.
Brodie doesn’t pull of the mischievous personality at all; if anything, it just makes me even more
fed up with my boss than I ever have been. “I may or may not have forgotten to get last month’s
payroll completed.” Brodie rushes out in a raspy exhale of air as his pitch raises an octave higher.
My eyes widen in pure shock. I’m due for a paycheck in two days on Monday but if Brodie doesn’t
resolve this problem by five P.M tomorrow on Sunday than none of the employees at Hamilton’s
will be getting paid for another full month. I have to forcibly close my jaw to gulp down my own
trepidation at the situation ahead of myself and my coworkers.

“You what?” I hiss out my words no longer caring if I’m being unprofessional. Because to put it
quite frank how the fuck does someone forget to finish the fucking payroll for their own company.
It’s one of the only thing Brodie’s parents have fully put him in charge over the years and after six
months of being the sole person responsible he’s gone and fucked us all sideways with a fucking
chainsaw. Brodie doesn’t respond and after a few seconds of stewing in my violent emotions I
continue my verbal assault. “How the fuck do you forget to finish a whole month’s payroll!” I
screech through clenched teeth as I rub harshly against my left temple where a dull pressure has
begun to form.

“Ah dinnae ken,” Brodie whispers like a kicked puppy and if he wasn’t the main reason why I
might not be getting paid I might’ve felt bad for how I’d just spoken to him. Key word might’ve.
“Bonnie, I need your help.” Brodie saying that stupid fucking pet name in whiny tone makes me
want to gut him even more than before. Maybe I’ll gut him and leave him alive for the crows to
pick away at his innards? If only it wasn’t illegal. I lift my head upwards to stare into the
midsummer sky with a groan.

“What’re ya asking of me?” I ask in a way that makes my accent snuggly hold onto my question
like a vice. A glance over my shoulder to the others finds Alba and Johnny perched on the edge of
the dock with no Ghost in sight. My brows knit together tightly. How the hell did I lose sight of a
walking human tank?

“If you can complete the full-time employee pay roll tomorrow, I’ll be able to get the part time half
done.” I find myself falling back into my conversation with Brodie with a roll of my eyes. Of
course, he wants to do the part time half of it. There’re hardly any part time employees that work
at Hamilton’s and the few that do work there are highschoolers on break for the summer who
don’t care about how many shifts they miss or how many they’re late for. Is it really worth all the
extra hassle? If I say no, then Brodie will have to tell his father to help solve the problem and
maybe finally get some repercussions for his poor work ethic. As if sensing my inner turmoil
Brodie speaks, “I’ll pay you time and a half for however long it takes you.” A small smirk worms
it way onto my face just thinking about the extra funds that’ll be added to next month’s pay stub.

“I’ll be by at opening to grab the timecard tracker.” I answer in a slightly reluctant tone. It’ll only
be a lazy Sunday spent at home on the couch typing in the information needed to make sure the
banks know how much to pay each employee and I’ve done it multiple times before. It’ll be an
easy way into an extra couple hundred pounds added to next month’s pay. Maybe I can finally by
that handsfree Kindle setup I’ve been dreaming of for months.

“Thank you so much you have no idea how much you’re saving me right now,” Brodie whines
out in a rush of strung together words and I fight back the grimace threatening to coat my face at
his unwanted praise.

“I’m going back to my vacation now Brodie.” I say dismissing his thanks and as a goodbye
before I quickly hang up my phone with a groan. There goes my Sunday plans of finishing the
book I started earlier this week. I turn around barefoot in the chunky gravel, and I give a high-
pitched squeak when I become face to face with Ghost. Gods, if you don’t know this man then I
can’t imagine how intimidating he must be when you’re first meeting him. How is a man that
large so silent on his feet? I watch through the small opening of Ghost’s balaclava as his ashen
blonde brows knit together and his cinnamon and gold-flecked eyes narrow in on me in anger. Is
he upset with me? Surely, he’s not, I’ve done nothing to him besides hide my feelings and he
hopefully has no idea about that.

“Seriously?” Ghost seethes and I watch his balaclava scrunch up as he forms what I believe to be a
sneer if the poison in his gaze is any indicator. Okay so he’s definitely mad at me and it is not a
great feeling. It’s something hot and sticky and raw like a gaping gash in my side that I can’t seem
to staunch the bleeding from and secretly maybe I don’t want to save myself. Not when it comes
to him: Simon. I scold myself for the slip up and realize that Ghost is glaring down at me in
expectation for my response. Oh, fuck me.

“W-what?” I stammer out in confusion totally taken aback from the rage that is quite literally
radiating off of Ghost and into the around us in the form of tension that’s way too thick to be
penetrated. My answer only seems to add fuel to the fire of Ghost’s rage as his cinnamon and
gold-flecked eyes darken.
“You’re supposed to be on vacation,” he all but spits his words down at me. I freeze. How long
had he even been listening in on my phone call? Ghost takes a step forward and I take a cautious
one backwards which causes me to press up against the masked man’s motorbike. It’s not that I’m
afraid of Ghost in the slightest because I’m not. He is the last man in the world that I would ever
even remotely find myself scared of, it’s just hard not to want to run away when the man you love
is looking at you with such intensity and all you want to do is close the distance between the two of
you in a heated kiss. Which I cannot do, so I plot my escape.

“I am on vacation.” I argue back with a thick blush rising up to coat my skin in a sickeningly sweet
feeling. Gods, please tell me he’s too angry with me to notice the flush to my skin. Ghost takes
another step forwards and slams his hands down on his motorbike on either side of my hips. I
flinch and my gaze widens as he leans down to get closer to eye level with me.

“Then why in the bloody hell did you sign up for extra work?” Ghost’s question sends those ever-
present heated cogs and gears to whirr to life in the pit of my stomach as my blush deepens into a
darker hue. I can’t help but to blink up at him through hooded eyes as I feel my grasp on my own
self perseveration crumbling. How would Ghost react if I just leaned up on my tiptoes and pressed
my lips against his through his mask? How would he react if I spilled my bleeding heart out for
him and begged him to have me in any way that deems fit? I frown at my own delusional
thoughts. The masked man would probably shove me away and then ship himself back off to
England and refuse to return to our home if I still inhabited it. “Don’t you get that you’re supposed
to be relaxing and resting? They already work you to the bone.” Ghost’s words aren’t laced with
venom this time. No, this much quieter and softer in a way that makes my heart ache in my chest.
Does he know how much torture him acting like this is for me? No, he doesn’t, and I’ll never be
able to tell him.

“It’s just working out payroll tomorrow and I’ll be doing it from home.” I say through clenched
teeth as Johnny and Alba come to stand next to us. Johnny’s heated azure hued glare on us makes
Ghost’s eyes widen as if he just realized he’d been basically pinning me up against his motorbike.
Ghost untangles himself with a hateful ‘tch’ that tells me sucked on his teeth in frustration like I do
myself sometimes. Before I can say anything, Ghost turns towards the hiking trails and is stalking
away his back and shoulder wound up so tight, I wonder if it’s a defense mechanism. Something
eerie washes over me chasing away my lust as I watch him disappear into the wooded trails. What
the ever-loving fuck just even happened? I’m standing there absolutely shell shocked and I don’t
recover until seconds later when Alba speaks cutting through my fogged mind.
“Someone’s pissy.” Alba chides throwing her arm around me to lead me back towards the small
chip stand that’s been open at the lake for a few years now. “Come on he’ll sort himself out.” My
friend’s voice is soothing, and I know that this is her way of comforting me when she can’t
outright mention my feelings for Ghost in front of Johnny. I nod and let her lead me away as
Johnny excuses himself to go after his Lieutenant with the lame explanation as ‘so he doesn’t get
turned around.’ As if Simon fucking Riley could get turned around over anything.

`````

Dear (Y/N), I can’t believe your date went that bad. I mean what kind of a narcissistic prick takes a
girl out to dinner at his ex-fiancé’s pub to try and get her jealous? I honestly don’t know what
women see in their male counterparts sometimes because that is just a whole new low on the list of
bad date stories, I’ve heard from you and Johnny. It’s like you MacTavishs are cursed when it
comes to anything romantic. At least if you’re in the same boat with your wanker of a brother that
is than I pity you. If it makes you feel any better, I have a few bad date stories I could tell you if
you ever wanted to hear them, you’re more than welcome to. I do have to warn you my stories are
far and few I don’t ever really have the time for dating so it’s just on the back burner. Anyways,
make sure you pick the restaurant when you go on your next date.

Yours Truly,

Simon Riley. 2-06-20xx

P.S. You want me to get rid of him for ya?

How is it possible to miss someone who’s sleeping two doors down the hall from me right now?
With a sigh of exasperation, I fold up Simon’s letter and place it back in its resting place inside my
stationery desk. I’m half tempted to make myself a new rule that not only is Simon strictly Ghost
while he’s here in person but that I’m not allowed to read any of Simon’s letters for me while he’s
here in Scotland. I can’t even fathom the thought of completely shutting Simon out of my life. I
love him so much it’s almost pathetic and I just cannot bare to let him go. So, I’ll have the few
hours in the early morning or late at night when I’m holed up in my room to read over Simon’s
letters. In these moments I savor the English Lieutenant that I love, the way his voice sounds, the
way he smells, the way his cinnamon and gold-flecked eyes light up when he’s happy, I savor
him. Gods, why’d I agree to be at Hamilton’s when they open at six in the morning? I had to get
up at four to get showered and dressed before having to be out of the door by five to brave the hour
drive into town. Yawning, I stand up from my desk and make sure I don’t have any lint on my
plain black leggings and matching black and red name brand hoodie. I grab my phone and head to
my bedroom door and grasp the chilled metal in my hands.

Closing my eyes, I say goodbye to Simon for the day and lock him away behind my ribcage
before silently opening my door and pulling it closed behind me softly. Thankfully Ghost and
Johnny’s doors are both shut so I haven’t woken them up while getting ready and I smile happily
to myself as I pad down the stairs. Ghost didn’t speak much to me after out weird exchange, I got a
basic apology from him and an offer to help with the payroll I’d be nose deep in all day long. I just
don’t get why he was so volatile over me offering to work for one day out of my two weeks off.
Not like I’d actually be in the store. I’ll just be here on the couch all day on my laptop. I roll my
eyes in annoyance at Ghost’s words from yesterday as I round the corner to the kitchen. To my
shock Ghost is standing there in a blue pair of joggers, grey sleep shirt’ and a black face mask and
beanie- the one I’d gifted to him. In Ghost’s large hands there’s two mugs of steaming liquid and
from the teabag string hanging out of one of the mugs tells me its tea. The aroma of coffee
notifies what the other is but why have two drinks this early in the morning? What is he doing up
so early anyways? I blink once then twice as if Ghost will vanish, and he might’ve been part of my
imagination. Ghost remains ramrod straight as those cinnamon and gold-flecked eyes lock onto
mine as I lift my gaze away from the mugs of tea and coffee. I see Ghost’s eyes crinkle as if he’s
smiling under his mask and then he speaks.

“Good morning love.”

 Chapter 7
Chapter Notes

Hey guys I just wanted to say thank you so much for over 2k hits! I'd also like to thank
everyone for their comments because they mean so much to me (I'm going to try and
reply to them as soon as I can). Also, how would we feel if I made a Spotify playlist
based off this story and posted the link for you in one of the coming chapters?
Anyways, this chapter features a migraine and some vomiting so if that's not for you I
probably wouldn't read this chapter lol. This has been one of my favorite chapters to
write and I'm so excited to hear how y'all like it! Please feel free to drop a comment,
kudos, or bookmark if you'd like to! Have a great day and or night and I'll see ya with
the next chapter Wednesday/Thursday!

How long have I just been standing here staring at Ghost like a deer caught in headlights? Thirty
seconds? A minute? More? I honestly couldn’t tell but the masked Englishman clears his throat
and I pull my gaze away from his own with a thick blush digging its warm claws into my face.
Gods how many times am I going to embarrass myself in front of him? It’s bad enough I’m dying
from a case of unrequited love thanks to Ghost but now I can’t seem to go more than a day or so
without gazing at him like some lovesick puppy.

“Good morning,” I say softly trying to hide my flushed face from those ever-vigilant cinnamon
and gold-flecked eyes. I let my gaze fall back onto the two mugs in Ghost’s large hands. Those
hands, the veins pop out against his pale complexion in such a delicious way that it has me curious
as to how those veins would strain when they’re wrapped my throat. Shanking my head slightly to
clear my desire-filled lapse of judgement I can’t help but to wonder if a quick dick appointment to
lose my virginity might ease my horny thoughts. No, that’s not how I would want my first time to
be. “Double fisting so early?” I ask Ghost lifting my gaze off of his hands and back up to his
masked face. I watch as ashen blond eyebrows scrunch together in thought before Ghost is rolling
his eyes at me with a soft and brief huff of laughter. It makes my skin prickle and come to life
along with those pestering heated cogs and gears that turn and twist in the pit of my stomach.

“I couldn’t sleep, and I knew you had to be up early so here,” the mug full of coffee is extended
towards me and I wrap both of my much smaller hands around it. The warmth instantly seeps into
my palms and when I glance down, I find the coffee a perfect medium brown color. My heart
slowly rips in two halves tendon by tendon shredding as I realize that Ghost has paid attention
these past few mornings to how I prepare my coffee. Lifting the mug to my lips for confirmation,
the coffee flows into my mouth coating my senses in the absolutely perfect combination of sugary
sweetness and acrid bitterness. It makes a lump form in my throat as I struggle to swallow my
mouthful, this is torture, and I don’t know how much longer I can endure it. “It taste, okay?
Wasn’t sure if I got it right or not.” That accent in that deep rumbling pitch has me even closer to
tears than before. How can someone sound so endearing and not mean it in the way I most
desperately crave?

“It’s perfect,” my voice is coated in a mix of emotions so heavy that I clear my throat after
speaking and thankfully Ghost ignores it. I watch as his eyes crinkle at the edges of his face mask
and before I can stamp out my reaction, I’m smiling back at the man I love and yet at the same
time my heart is breaking because he’ll never know just what he’s doing to me. “Thank you,” I say
surprised that my words aren’t shaky with tears that I feel like I’m seconds away from bursting
into. Ghost nods my thanks away as he turns on his heel and heads for the sliding doors that lead
out onto the back porch. I still have twenty minutes or so until I have to leave for Hamilton’s, so I
pad after the giant of a man eagerly. The midsummer morning is light and warm, but I know once
the sun rises it’ll be scorching and I’m glad I’ve got an excuse as to stay inside all day long while
working on my half of the payroll.

“It’s so peaceful out here,” Ghost whispers a few minutes later when we’re both settled into
rocking chairs side by side. Smiling into myself I can’t help but to be so reminded of the Simon
from my letters while savoring this moment. It just feels so easy with him. I keep my gaze out
towards the backyard watching as fireflies dance and blink lighting up the large grassy clearing.
They dance to some unheard melody and yet I feel like they’re never off beat. “Makes what I do
for a living feel worth it.” At Ghost’s barely audible confession I turn my head towards him. His
tea remains untouched and a pang of sadness washes over me at his refusal to even pull down his
mask long enough to nurse on the steaming mug. Those cinnamon and gold-flecked eyes shift to
the side to gaze at me and I’m unsure what to say or do next. “Sorry,” Ghost speaks peeling his
eyes off of mine and back out onto the backyard. “I know you and Johnny don’t talk about our line
of work.” I frown at the masked man’s words as I force my gaze back over to the backyard and off
of his lofty frame. It’s not that I don’t want to hear about what Johnny does for the military it’s
that Johnny refuses to tell me anything about it. Even when he’s come home with gunshot
wounds.

“You can talk about it when and if you ever want to.” I say gently as a rabbit literally hops into my
vision in the grass ahead of us. As the rabbit clears my line of sight, Ghost just readjusts his
posture to stretch his long legs out and lean into the back of the rocking chair and his grip on his
mug tightens. “I won’t be able to relate or offer you advice, but I swear I’ll listen and try my best
to understand.” This is the closest I can get to telling Ghost how I feel about him without being
obvious and it’s killing me. I sneak a glance at Ghost and to my shock he’s sat down his mug, and
he’s hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers are laced behind his neck.
Tense is an understatement. Gods, I’ve said something wrong again. I can tell from how the air
between us has shifted. It’s no longer soft and easy to swallow now it’s harsh and each inhale has
my lungs spasming with the effort it takes to exhale.
 “You wouldn’t feel that way if you knew what all I’ve done.” Ghost spits his words with venom
but something in my soul tells me that it’s not directed towards me. Not wholly at least. I frown
after I finish off the last of my coffee and before I can speak Ghost beats me to it. “I’m a monster
(Y/N).” He hisses violence heavy in his tone and those once soft cinnamon and gold-flecked eyes
darken as his pupils blow out dark and wide. Icy trepidation slithers up my spine to nestle into my
sternum as Ghost levels that primal glare onto my own widened eyes. I open my mouth to refute
him to tell him that he’s such much more than a monster, but all of the words fizzle out on the tip
of my tongue. My lack of words awakens something raw and ugly within Ghost and he makes a
weird sound between a broken laugh and a growl. “You wanna know something?” The masked
man hisses out his words in a feral rush. “I’m not a monster.” Ghost’s voice slowly falls from
being coated in hatred to devoid of emotions as he continues his triad. “I’m the fucking devil
incarnate.” I’ve never heard Ghost sound so authoritative and deadly as he does now while
spitting that cursed sentence at me. Like it’ll scare me off. Like he wants to frighten me. He
doesn’t.

“No.” I snarl back frustration coating my words as I set my own threatening glare onto Ghost.
What’s the saying about backing a wounded animal into a corner? Is it a warning or a word of
advice? Ghost pushes up to stand, his whole body seems to vibrate and buzz in anger as he stalks
off towards the sliding doors at the other end of the porch. Seconds later I’m standing too and
placing my mug haphazardly onto the coffee table besides Ghost’s untouched mug of now
lukewarm tea. “Wait!” I want to shout at Ghost in provocation, but my exclamation comes out it
in a broken pathetic whine that even has me cringing. With a hopeful gaze as I try to quickly close
the distance between the two of us, I see Ghost pause with literally one foot in the doorway into my
cottage. “Please,” the word is breathless as he casts a wary cinnamon and gold-flecked gaze over
his shoulder those ashen blonde brows knit together so tightly I know it hurts. I see Ghost shift
slightly and for a moment I think he’s going to turn and face me and then I open my stupid fucking
mouth and ruin whatever moment we might’ve had. “Ghost-“ the sliding door is pulled shut
harshly behind Ghost in warning after I whimper out his callsign. Tears well up in my eyes and
clench my jaw in vexation at whatever mistake I just made. Standing alone on my back porch
watching the fireflies dance, I suddenly remember what the saying about confronting wounded
animals is. It’s a warning, one that you should heed because I’ve learned the hard way that they’ll
strike first to protect themselves, even if it means shredding you apart in the process.

```

I submit my half of payroll at 4:57 P.M. with just three minutes to spare with an exasperated sigh as
I screw my eyes shut tightly. I don’t know if it’s from my fight with Ghost earlier (if that’s what it
was) or if it’s due to the stress of rushing through payroll but one of them has summoned a
migraine. Gods, my left eye socket feels as if I’s being cleaned out with a hammer and rusty chisel
and forcing myself to finish payroll has only made my migraine even angrier. I’m thankful that
I’ve locked myself away in my room since I got home effectively avoiding Ghost with the excuse
of needing my privacy to stay focused on my task so hopefully, I can sneak my medicine and
neither Ghost or Johnny have to know about my current state. Closing my laptop, I slide it off my
lap and onto the other side of my King-sized bed and sit up into a better position to stand up from.
This causes my head to swim and the pressure wrapping itself like a vice around my skull tighten
down a fraction of an inch. It’s enough of a difference to instantly make nauseous and bile rises up
into the back of my throat. My feet slam down against the hardwood floors as I literally sprint
through my room, rip open my bedroom door, and barrel down the hallway trying to choke back
my own vomit. I almost topple over Ghost as he exits his own bedroom as I zoom by focused
solely on my mission of hurling up into the toilet and not the floor.

“(Y/N)?” I hear Ghost call out to me as I enter the bathroom and before I can do anything more but
fall to my knees and lift up the toilet seat, I’m retching up everything I’ve consumed in the past
twelve hours. Stomach acid burns and sizzles on my tastebuds as I continue retching harshly into
the toilet with tears streaming down my face as the physical act of puking only worsens my
migraine. My hair is falling around my face dangerously close to getting covered in my own sick
when two strong, scarred and calloused hands gently gather up my tresses pulling them back in a
makeshift ponytail. I can tell from the scent of tobacco and bourbon inspired cologne that flood
my senses that it’s Ghost holding back my hair. Soon my retching turns into violent dry heaving.
“Easy love easy,” Ghost’s voice is so soft and gentle that it makes me question if our interaction
this morning a figment of my imagination. I’m trying to shove him away and focus on easing my
dry heaving into raspy breaths but it’s impossible to do when I’m too worried about Ghost finding
me disgusting. Why won’t he just understand? “Just breathe it’s okay,” Ghost purrs his words out
gently as he squats down behind me easily towering over my smaller frame even in his scrunched-
up position. Moments later my dry heaves fall into unsteady wet sobs.

“Don’t look,” I sob out in a pitiful broken whimper coated in tears and saliva. Gods, I’m a
disgusting monster. The word sures through my mind accompanied by flashbacks my argument
from Ghost and now I’m crying for a whole other reason. All the tears do is add to the pressure
and pulsing pain of my migraine. Ghost ignores my words as he gently sweeps back a few strands
of my hair that have slipped through his fingers. “No, I’m gross don’t,” I mumble my words
around sobs that are steadily slowing down into soft hiccups. Ghost rumbles a deep and tired
chuckle behind me.

“I’ve seen worse things than vomit,” the masked man’s reply reminds me that he is technically a
Lieutenant so I’m sure he’s seen nastier scenes then some civilian’s puke. When my hiccups have
faded, and my breathing finally evens out minutes later Ghost speaks. “Migraine?” I hum my
agreement to his assumption as I let Ghost shift me to sit with my back leaned against the bathtub
wall. I watch as Ghost flushes the toilet for me with and I grimace as he pads over to the linen
closet and pulls out two rags.
 “Where’s Johnny?” I ask as I squint my eyes shut at how the bright and harsh bathroom lighting
seems to infuriate my migraine. I heart the sink cut on for few seconds and then it shuts back off.

“Went to grab dinner,” Ghost says softly and when I open my eyes, he’s crouched down in front of
me in a plain grey balaclava and loungewear. To my surprise Ghost uses one of the now wet rags
to gently clean off my chin and mouth and I watch as his brows furrow in thought. Gods, this is
just how I imagined he’d take care of me based on those stupid letters. This kind of treatment is
what I’ve been craving for months. So why does it only add to the heartbreak I’m currently
facing? “Why didn’t you get me or Johnny?” Ghost asks after he’s cleaned my face off
thoroughly and tossed the soiled rag in the direction of the laundry basket.

“Didn’t want to bother either of you,” I admit as Ghost uses the other clean rag to apply a
makeshift cold compress over my forehead. Gods, why am I still letting him help me? Despite
feeling awful for allowing the masked man to fawn over me like some helpless child I can’t seem
to try and get him to stop. Meting Ghost’s gaze, I see his expression contort into anger slightly
before he sighs out in frustration and his gaze softens once again. He then stands and crosses over
to the vanity and digs out my migraine medicine and brings me back the proper dose. I’m quick to
toss the makeshift cold compress of a wet rag over towards the laundry basket in favor of my
medicine.

“You’re never a bother to either of us.” Ghost answers as he hands me the pills and I snatch them
up eagerly and gulp them down without water. It earns an eye roll from Ghost. “I was going to get
you a glass of water.” He says in a deadpan tone as turns his gaze back onto me. “Come on let’s
get you in bed.” Ghost reaches down and easily hauls me onto my feet and before I can argue he’s
winding an arm around my waist and guiding me back towards my bedroom.

“I can walk on my own.” I hiss out even as my legs wobble under the small amount of weight
Ghost is allowing me to bare. He chuckles again and I grit my teeth. Suddenly I find myself
apologetic about or tiff this morning. Guilty that I’m allowing him to care so tenderly for him after
how volatile I had made him earlier. “About this morning,” I start as Ghost guides me into my
bedroom.

“Don’t.” Ghost’s voice is grim as he helps me into bed and holds back my comforter for me to
weasel my way underneath. “I’m sorry for my actions and that’s all that needs to be said regarding
it.” That authoritative tone is back again and I’m sure it isn’t even a fraction of the harshness he
reserves for those who work for him. “You want your laptop on your desk?” Ghost asks as I feel
my medicine kick in and grogginess from my migraine, medicine, and long day swirl together to
try and coax me into unconsciousness.

“Please,” I slur out in exhaustion and watch through hooded eyes as Ghost scoops up my laptop and
crosses the room to gently place it onto my stationery desk. I notice him linger slightly before
returning back to the side of my bed with a strange look to those cinnamon and gold-flecked eyes.

“You better now?” Ghost asks as the pressure begins to fade from my migraine and I reply with a
tired ‘mhm’. “Johnny or I will come check on you later then,” the masked man says as he gives
me one more weird gaze before heading to the bedroom door. Before I can bite back my migraine
and exhaustion influenced words I’m speaking as Ghost goes to pull my bedroom door shut behind
him.

“Thank you, Simon.” I sigh out my tone gentle and loving as I watch Ghost falter for a moment
then two before he softly pulls the door shut with a click. Exhaustion pulls me under before I
notice my slip up.
 Chapter 8
Chapter Notes

Hey guys!! Thanks so much for almost 3k reads! Quick trigger warning for this
chapter it involves a brief masturbation scene in the second half so feel free to skip that
if you'd like to. I just want to say a quick sorry for the short chapter but its exam week
for me and I wanted to get something out for ya guys. Anyway, drop a comment,
kudos, or bookmark if you want to! See you all next Wednesday/Thursday fir an
update! Have a great day and or night!

Sometimes I really fucking hate myself and my lack of a verbal filter. How could I have called
Ghost by his real name? The whole plan to keep my feelings for Simon hidden was to sperate
Ghost and Simon in to two different beings so that I can trick myself into only being in love with
the Simon from my letters. Not the physical man living two rooms down the hall from me.
Gods, at least Ghost has gone back to being completely stoic as usual so maybe he didn’t even
notice my slip up? The thought sounds pathetic to me even half a day after it’s happened. So
pathetic in fact that I throw myself onto my bed with dramatic flair and release a long-winded
groan of frustration. With my face smashed against the mattress I hear Johnny hum a tune as he
goes to walk past my open bedroom door. I pray he walks past and leaves me be, but I’m never
granted anything that I want. I hear the hardwood floors creak as Johnny crosses into my room and
seconds later I feel the mattress shift as he sits down next to me.

“Ya feeling okay sis?” Johnny asks his accent clinging heavily to his question. Seconds later I
feel my twin’s fingers drift through my hair lovingly and I find that familiar tightness in my
sternum returning at the endearing gesture. Another tortured groan is my response as I keep my
face pressed into the mattress terrified that if I lean up and lock my eyes with Johnny, I’ll be in
tears and crying out for comfort from him before I can stop myself. “Is your migraine back?” He
asks sweeping his fingers gently through my hair which is a stark difference to his personality
when we’re arguing. Why does he have to be so damn attentive sometimes?

“No,” my voice is partially smothered by my mattress and blanket, but I know it’s loud and clear
enough for Johnny to understand. His hand hesitates for a moment before he continues his
ministrations.

“Anything you wanna talk about?” Johnny asks after a few minutes of silence is passed between
us and I can’t stop myself before I’m tensing up. I take a few steadying breaths before I lean up
onto my elbows and lock gazes with Johnny over my shoulder. He pulls his hand away from my
hair with a concerned frown. I match his expression instantly.

“No?” It comes out as an aggressive question, and I can’t help but to want to scold myself for it.
I know Johnny can tell when I’m lying at any given moment and when his dark hued brows
scrunch together intently, I know he’s caught onto my current lie. I furrow my own brows back to
him as I turn my gaze into a warning glare. “I’m fine.” I lie. Again. Fuck, I hate lying to Johnny.
It rips my soul to shreds but I cannot let him know about my feelings for his Lieutenant. The lie
angers my twin and I watch him shake his head ‘no’ defiantly.

“I can tell when you’re lying.” Johnny words are all but spat as I shift to sit up on the bed and
pull my knees into my chest like it’s some kind of safeguard. I rest my chin on my knees as I stare
blandly back at my twin. It’s so strange to see myself in him even when I’m upset at him, I can’t
help but to be reminded of myself when I’m staring at him. Gods, he’s even in the same faded
scarlet hued high school football shirt that I currently have one though he’s got light wash jeans on
while I’m in plain grey sweatpants.

“I’m not lying.” I huff back at him with a hateful sneer as I watch Johnny hatefully heave himself
up to stand. Moments later he throws his arms out animatedly in exasperation at another very
blatant lie from me. It makes something hot and sour worm and wiggle its way down my throat
and into the bottom of my stomach. Suddenly I’m angry and slightly nauseous and after last
night’s incident I can’t help but hope I keep down my light lunch this time around. “Yer bums oot
the windae.” I growl out my insult as I suck on my teeth making an aggressive ‘tch’ sound. Out of
the corner of my eye I see Ghost walk past my door in a grey face mask and matching beanie. As I
take in his grey workout tank that shows off his muscled tattooed arms, he pauses in the doorway
with his hands in his own dark wash jean pockets. If I weren’t so mad at Johnny, I’d giggle at the
confused way Ghost draws his ashen blonde brows together at my Scottish phrase.

“That is such a load of bullshit.” Is Johnny’s growled response as he turns his gaze back towards
Ghost who’s now awkwardly standing with one foot in my bedroom and the other still in the
hallway. My gaze drifts between them rapidly as I see Johnny’s anger fizzle up further to the
surface and I know he’s mere seconds from exploding onto either me or his masked Lieutenant. I
watch as Ghost flattens out his expression before ever so briefly landing that soft cinnamon and
gold-flecked gaze onto mine as if checking in on me. He pulls his attention back to Johnny before
I can even flush under his gaze.
 “Everything alright?” Ghost asks gently moving ever so slightly to step fully into my bedroom.
“We were supposed to leave for our ride soon.” The Englishman’s words are gentle and it’s almost
as if he’s a parent trying to swiftly redirect their child back onto the right task. It chases away
some of the ugly emotions that are swirling so heavily in the depths of my gut. I glance back over
to Johnny and see him take a deep breath then another before he’s flying off the handle.

“No, it’s not all right!” He seethes, his words dripping with malice as he rips his deadly glare off
of Ghost and pins it onto me. “You’re a fucking liar.” Johnny spits his insult with venom as he all
but shoves Ghost out of the doorway and he stalks down the hall towards the stairs. Tears brim up
into my eyes, but I blink them away, I mean Johnny isn’t wrong and we’ve never hidden anything
from each other. I can’t blame him for his emotions, I just wish he knew how to express them in a
healthier way. I hear the front door slam shut and moments later Johnny’s bike roars to life before
peeling out of the driveway. I meet Ghost’s gaze finally and frown up at him.

“You, okay love?” He asks as he lingers in my doorway. I nod ‘yes’ numbly and Ghost returns
the gesture and I hope he gets the feeling that I crave to be left alone to process everything I’m
dealing with. “It’s none of my business but just let me know if you want to talk about it.” Ghost
says gently and I get the sense he’d talk the same way to a wounded animal that he’s currently
speaking to me. All I can do is stare up into those cinnamon and gold-flecked eyes as I hum my
agreement to him. Gods, I’m so desperate for him and he could care less. Hell, I’m lying to my
twin over my feelings for him and he’s so fucking oblivious. “I’ll go find him and cool him down.
I don’t think he meant what he said. I just don’t think he knew how to say what he wanted to.” I
listen intently practically hanging onto every syllable that the masked man speaks as he scrunches
and uncrunches the bits of his expression I can see.

“I know it’s okay.” I say gently to Ghost and I watch him shake his head once then twice before he
turns to leave my room. To my surprise Ghost lingers outside my door as if there’s something else
he wants to say to me but he shakes his head again and takes off down the hall. I’m left alone in
my cottage curious about Ghost’s unspoken thoughts and how to figure out a way to no longer lie
to Johnny without mentioning my feelings for the masked man. I can’t find a solution to anything
and all it does is just make me feel like mold.

````
 Two hours later and I’m in the laundry room sifting through the dirty clothes by color and fabric
before I start on the pile of clothes, I’ve neglected all weekend. Both Johnny and Ghost are still
out and there’s no garanutee on when they’ll be back so I’ve declared the rest of my evening as a
laundry day since Alba is working a closing shift tonight so I can’t bother her with my drama.
Walking out of the laundry room and to the stairs I grab a pitch black hoodie that’s draped over the
banister and freeze when I recognize who’s it is. Tobacco and bourbon inspired cologne fills my
senses as I lift Ghost’s hoodie up to my nose and hesitantly take a sniff. Gods, he smells so
delicious it’s not even funny. Glancing around as if I could get caught when I’m home alone I feel
those ever-present heated cogs and gears turn to life in the pit of my stomach. It’s been so long
since I’ve gotten myself off and this has been the only opportunity to do so when the cottage has
been vacant. Chewing on my bottom lip and dropping my gaze back to Ghost’s hoodie I get a
wicked thought. I could have one moment of weakness and then it’s back to pretending I don’t
love Simon. No one would ever have to know, and I’ll wash the hoodie right afterwards. Fuck it I
think before I’m slipping on Ghost’s giant hoodie. It hangs loosely down to my knees, and I let
myself simmer in how dominantly that devilish mix of tobacco and bourbon coats me fully it
almost makes me wobbly as I climb the stairs eagerly two at a time. Once up the stairs I quickly
enter my room and lock the door behind me before I lay down on my bed with my back propped up
against my wall. I don’t allow myself to feel guilty before I dip my dominant hand below the
waistband of my sweatpants and up and under my panties. Breathing in Ghost’s scent, I imagine
it’s his hand working gentle and teasing circles on my clit as I whimper at the sensation. It’s been
almost a week since I’ve had any relief and I’m just so pent up. Gods, I can only imagine how his
bigger fingers would feel swirling around on my clit. Would he apply firm pressure and make me
cum fast or would it be light and deliberate touches to make fall apart at the seams slowly? I don’t
even care at this point I’d let this man do whatever he wants (within reason) to me without any
complaints. My breath hitches as I feel that slick and hot coil tightening around my stomach as my
pussy gives a deep throb. I’ve never had sex but there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t give to
have Ghost sinking all of his cock into me right now. I’m close already thanks to the tobacco and
bourbon musk of Ghost’s hoodie pushing me closer to the edge that I’m currently teetering on.
One more circle of my fingers around my clit and I’m falling off the edge into my own orgasm with
a loud gasp as I throw my head back into the wall.

“Simon!” I whimper as my fingers move deftly to ride me gently through my climax. Seconds
later I’m pulling my drenched hand out of my sweatpants with a grimace as I try my best to even
out my breathing. Guilt and shame fight for control of me in a viscous stalemate in the form of bile
rising up into my throat. Gods, I’m a whore. And I hate myself. How nice. I roll my eyes at my
own thoughts and before I can think about getting off my bed and cleaning myself up, I hear the
front door slam shut. Shit. Fuck. Shit. I must’ve been too zoned out to hear the bikes pull up and
now I’m quite literally the kid with their hand caught in the cookie jar. Why did I allow myself to
do this? I panic at my own thoughts.

“(Y/N),” Johnny calls and I hear the stairs creak as he begins to climb them which eliminates the
chance of running into the bathroom before either one of them sees me. “Can we talk?” Johnny’s
voice is down the hall, and I want to scream as I try to come up with a game plan. The only thing I
can conjure up is simply, fuck me.

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