One shot Friday presents “Overstimulated (Simon “Ghost” Riley)
Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley X Reader
Rated: Teen and up
Warning: non-sexual nudity, non-sexual intimacy, Reader is audhd (autistic and adhd), not beta read
Note: Simon is written with his Manchester accent to the best of my research and notes
You teach elementary kids. You love it but there are days when the volume control button is broken and they just can’t not be loud.
It overwhelms you every time.
On your way home at a stop light, you text Simon , “I’m overstimulated. On my way home. Love you.”
He hugs your text and replies, “Love you too.😘 “
You two have been dating long enough that Simon has learned when you’re overstimulated from talking:
You don’t like being alone
You don’t want anyone talking to you
You want to die in cuddles, preferably him laying on top of you until you suffocate in the safety of him, but he prefers to hold you to him tightly which seems to work just as well
You also need a specific super soft blanket and an old, specific stuffie that has helped you long before he showed up in your life
You needed a minimum of an hour laying down before you could talk
The first time you told him. You two were going to have dinner after work and you just couldn’t even think of the idea of going into public with other people without wanting to rip your skin off. You told Simon that. He seemed to gently and sincerely agree to cancel. You made sure to explain what you do to cope and settle down sans the cuddling and not wanting to be alone—not wanting to make him feel obligated to do anything—because you were using a weighted blanket and would play instrumental music to help not feel alone
Not that you honestly explained that.
Simon, since you two started dating, is ever the observant person, you found out. In a matter of a couple of months, he can read you like a book better than you know yourself.
What you didn’t expect the first time you told him was for him to be waiting at your door when you get home.
Turning off your car, you look at him with your brow furrowed as you step out with your backpack in tow. “What are you doing here?”
You could see through his mask into his eyes he was smiling, just a small crinkle around his eyes. He stayed standing until you came upon your porch. He leaned down and quietly informed, “Takin’ care ov ya.”
You sighed heavily and looked up at him with a look, you knew he understood as irritation.
“Me pre’y dove,” he cooed quietly, knowing how much you preened at those words. Your lips twitched. “I jus’ gonna sit on t’couch and ‘ave a brew.“ He took your backpack and keys, opening the front door and pushing open. “Ya gonna do as ya say. I jus’ gonna check on ya eve-reh while t’make sure yer not wanhin’.”
You sighed in relief with a small smile on your lips. He did understand. “Thank you,” you quietly reply. He gives a single nod and enters after you, closing and locking the front door. He sets your keys gently on the small table by your front door and your backpack next to it.
You’ve taken off your shoes haphazardly by the door and your cardigan. You throw it across the couch arm before heading towards your room. Simon takes off his shoes, storing them where you like and do the same to yours, and hangs both his jacket and your cardigan. He goes into the kitchen to start making tea with your electric kettle—the one that barely makes any noise.
He carefully opens the cabinet he knows you keep tea in. He didn’t know you’d bought the tea he likes his favorite brand of Earl Grey. He deeply grins behind the mask and pulls it out. He opens the box and inhales the tea. He takes out two mugs, settles a bag in each, and waits for the kettle to finish before pouring.
He walks to your room, your door partially open to find you toeing your socks. He can tell by your movements just how tired and overstimulated you are. It makes his chest hurt. He wants to console you but you didn’t say that was ok yet.
When you stopped and were looking down at the bed without moving for longer than usual, he came in and slowly placed his hands on your clothed hips sliding up your clothed sides, a feeling you’ve mentioned numerous times you enjoy with his big hands. When you lifted your arms, he began to unbutton your dress shirt. He pulls off your top, leaving you in your undershirt. He returns to your waist, tapping your slacks. You nod and he comes around, making sure not to touch more than necessary to unbutton and unzip. You wiggle slightly and let them fall to the floor.
He loves watching you do that—your little wiggle. He does not know why but it makes him smirk every time when you do. He backs up, letting you step out of your pants. You push blankets out of the way and crawl into your king sized nest—Simon likes to call your bed of pillows, blankets, and stuffies.
He watches you look through your blankets for that specific super soft blanket and the one weighted stuffie you’ve had for years. You settle your head on your pillow, turn away from your partially opened blinds, and bring the blanket over your shoulder as you hold your stuffie in one arm. He can see you begin to physically relax.
He goes to your window and closes the blinds. Before walking out, he can hear you whisper, “Thank you.” He pauses at your words before closing your door.
“Simon,” you quietly call. He stops and silently looks at you. “Don’t close it all the way. Wanna hear you,” you explain. He doesn’t question, just gives a single nod, and leaves your door open three to four inches. He is happy that his coming made you feel better. He, then, makes sure you can hear his footsteps and movement in the kitchen. You smile to yourself, close your eyes, and work to quiet your brain so you can rest.
About thirty minutes later, he slowly opens your bedroom door enough to pop his head in only to find you still on your side and unmoved, softly snoring. He finds this strange. You move quite a bit when you’re in bed alone, including starfish, sleep diagonally, or due to your short stature, sleep lengthwise on your king size bed. He found the latter endearing. He also knows you’ve told him numerous times you sleep better when he’s over and you cuddle all night. He sleeps better too. He catalogues this behavior, watching for a pattern, and leaves you sleeping longer.
Coming back another thirty minutes later, you’ve only changed sides l you’re sleeping on. Simon does not like this one bit. He quietly enters your room, comes around the other side—his side as you now call it, and slowly lays down before reaching out to wrap his arm around you to pull you against him.
The first time he did this in the middle of the night, unable to sleep, and didn’t want to wake you. He just pulled you to him while waking you a little and you didn’t mind when you felt him at your back with his big arm around you. You hummed happily before turning over to nuzzle into his naked chest.
This time, you give a displeased grunt, turn into him and nuzzle, inhale deeply, before sliding your arm under his to wrap your arm around him as much as you can. He can feel you melt against him and return to sleep a minute or two later. He knew he should have followed his instincts.
You two lay there for an hour. Simon enjoys holding you against him and watches you sleep. You twitch, facial expressions changing once in a while and murmur in your sleep. Sometimes, he can understand you and finds it amusing.
He looks at his watch, minding the time. He wants to make sure you eat and not just sleep all night to wake up starving. He lays with you another thirty minutes before slowly unwrapping from you. You whimper, lightly wake, and your arm moves slightly. He finds your weighted blanket and lays it on you. He knows it isn’t the same but he’s gonna see what he can make for you that’s easy to eat with your fingers.
He has learned that your stomach is easily upset and your sensory issues worsen for touch and taste. You hate it but you have easy stuff you can eat, like rice, green bananas, apples, cheddar cheese, and pretzels.
Simon get down a tray that separates everything and decides to cut up apples and sliced cheese into smaller squares. He adds pretzels too. He makes sure to triple the amount so you both can eat. He then gets out some bread, a pan, and butter to make grilled cheese how you showed him. He looks around for that cooking weight you use to squash the sandwich as it cooks. When he finds it, he gets working.
Slowly you wake up, not as warm as you were, and feel yucky still. You look at your nightstand and see your phone plugged into your charger. That’s when you remember Simon is here. A small radiant smile touches your lips and illuminates your eyes at the little things he does for you. You inhale deeply and smell a bunch of dairy, like butter and cheese. You throw the blankets off and slowly make your way to the side of bed.
Walking out of the bedroom, you follow your nose quickly to the kitchen to find Simon making several grilled cheese sandwiches for you both. You scoot a chair out, drawing his attention, as you sit down and watch him. He gives a single nod before returning to his task. You’re happy he is making food for both of you and not just you. He did that in the beginning but you changed that quickly. You notice he is slowly plating two plates as he cooks. “I’ll wait for you,” you inform. He grunts in acknowledgment.
It’s just two minutes before he’s done and turns everything off before coming over to set your plate in front of you and the other next to you. He pulls a chair up next to you before digging in. You watch him a few moments before looking at your plate as you try to find what your stomach will handle. You start to smell each item finding apples being the only thing that even smells remotely edible.
Simon had grown used to you doing this. There are days where solid food and you don’t cooperate, usually stress- or anxiety-induced. Sometimes it’s your stomach and sometimes it’s your throat. Your body is weird, in your opinion, and your mental health doesn’t help.
Picking up an apple, you take a bite and eat with your mouth closed. Glancing at Simon, you lean against his arm. “Thank you,” you quietly express. He leans over the top of your head and kisses into your hair. “Alrigh’, luv.” He returns to his sandwiches and apples as you finish the two apples he cut up for you. You stay leaned against his arm as he eats and periodically steals one slice to eat.
The first time you did this, Simon ignored it until you did it again. He tilted his head and gave you, what you call, the stink eye—one part of bitch face—since he has his mask on. You giggled at his look and did it again. Well, tried to. That man has serious reflexes. He caught your wrist and silently wiggled a finger at you. “Er arr, ask, petal,” he reminded.
“Where’s the fun in that, big man?” You teased. He snorted and let go of your wrist, letting you eat the apple slice. From then on, he’d always made sure there was a little extra on his plate or bowl when he snacked. He knew you’d be a menace about it.
Once he was done eating, he looked down at you seeing you begin to doze against him. He reached over with his other hand and cupped the side of your face. “C’mon, duck. Up.”
He could see you put your lips and sleepily whine. You slowly sat up and yawned. Looking up at him, your sleepy eyes fluttered open and looked at him. “Stay?” You questioned.
“Madferit,” he confirms, his eyes crinkle.
Smiling, you get up and go to take your plate but Simon stops you. “Nah, pet. I go’ it.” You nod, walking around him. Stopping to place a kiss on his covered cheek. “Love you.” You head to your room, hearing Simon scoot back and begin to clean up. “Join me when you’re done, please.”
Simon can hear the tiredness in your voice. He’s thankful it’s the weekend. “Yeah,” he calls out before putting food away and washing the dishes.
When Simon walks into your room, he finds you standing there staring at your bed. He looks at the bed, trying to figure out what’s bothering you. You glance back and wave your hand at the mess of blankets . “Can ya stack the blankets?” He isn’t sure what you mean. “Lay t’sleep?” He queries. You nod. He walks around you and begins to lay each blanket across the bed in the order which you prefer to sleep in. You smile.
Deciding to change, you walk over to your drawers and pull out a long sleeve shirt to sleep in. You pull off your undershirt and panties, throwing them at the hamper before pulling that on. You two came to an understanding that you sleeping without underwear meant sex is on the table.
You want it but not really sure what you want to do besides have an orgasm or two. Simon quirks a brow behind you at the lack of underwear.
Once he is done, he undresses to his boxer briefs. He walks out to the living room, having gotten his sleep bag that he always has with him, and bringing his bag in with him. You grin, scooting into bed.
This is what you needed: cuddles and skin contact with him. Maybe, you’ll do more later.
Simon “Ghost” Riley X Reader Subscribers:
@vitalliver @141bean @Abby—-Wright @maria300806 @bunnysdaydreams @gracefulackerman @laurence-simps-for-ghost
