eeek ! my first fanfic i’ve ever posted! ⋆˙⟡
intense flirting, suggest1ve gazing, small age gap, slight confession of feelings ◝(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)◜ find part 2 here!
Flatmate | Simon Ghost Riley x fem reader
I awake to the sound of a roaring thunderstorm. My delicate, ivory lace curtains are whisking about my windows, almost touching the ceiling from the harsh wind. I see lightening dancing around the sky, not far from me. I wait and listen for the roaring thunder. Once I begin to see my curtains turning damp, I get up to close the window. The brisk air against my body in my little-to-no pajamas makes the faint hairs on my delicate skin prickle. I shiver as I take in the beautiful storm through the window. After watching and listening to nature wreak havoc for a while, I decide I should check the time.
3:57 A.M. glowing red on my bedside clock.
Of course I’m wide awake at this ungodly hour. I decide to drag myself away from my room to feed the cat and make myself a cup of tea. I may as well get my day started early. If Simon were home, I would need to put some pajama pants on. Since it’s just me and my cat, Biscuit, a white, lacy tank top paired with pink colored pajama shorts that barely have a 2.5cm inseam will do me just fine. He’s been away on a deployment for nearly 8 months now, which I don’t necessarily mind.
I moved into this flat a couple of years ago, on my 23rd birthday after graduating university. I’ve got a degree in accounting, so I work at a bank. Thank god it’s Saturday morning, I don’t hate my job necessarily but I don’t get excited to go there. Simon moved in when I had my landlord list the flat needing a roommate. A break in happened in the building soon after I moved in. I got worried being alone, being a few hours from home. I’ve only got one friend who moved countries after studying abroad, so I had no choice but to invite a stranger. Simon Riley of all people applied to take the spot for when he is home, and since he is active military (even though he is a man) it made me feel more secure. He must sense I get worried here alone, as he left behind a firearm under my bed for me with plenty of ammo. He told me that if anyone ever asked, he would say he left it there by accident. He explained to me how to use it if I needed. I don’t know much about what he does in the military, I never grew up around anyone affiliated with it. I don’t pry to ask Simon about it either, I don’t want to ruffle his feathers if he doesn’t want to speak about it. Even when Simon is home, it can feel awkward. He doesn’t talk a whole lot. Small conversation here and there. He’s a dream roommate otherwise, doesn’t own much and he’s very clean.
And very pleasant to look at. Too bad the lad is 10 years older than me, hence why I try not to dream of him beyond a beautiful piece of rugged and intense eye candy. I don’t even know the guy that well, but even when he’s gone for months- sometimes I find myself questioning what it would be like if he were home more often.
I start to reach for the cat food. Last time I put it up high in the cabinet, I used a chair. Alas, I feel too lazy to grab one to help myself. As I’m on the very tip of my toes, trying to pinch the corner of the bag with my short and manicured nails, the front door of the flat swings wide open.
I scream, trying to almost sink my small body into the cabinets so the intruder can’t see me.
“M’goodness, little thing,” grumbles the giant figure in the door. “I would’ve called to tell ya I was comin’, but I didn’t want to wake ya. Happened quite last minute.”
“Jesus Christ, Simon!” I whisper shout. “My heart is pounding out of my chest! I forget that you’re always wearing that mask too… Why are you home?!”
My eyes watch his enormous frame collect the rest of his bags from the hallway, balaclava still around his head so no one could see him. He wouldn’t risk it, no matter the hour. I never asked why either, I enjoy his mystery in my blandness. The way he looks in it makes my heart skip for some odd reason. There’s something so attractive about a big, powerful man in a mask.
“Mission finished early, got sent home. I reckon since I been in the service so long, might get to relax at home for longer ‘n usual,” he replies.
Each time he reaches for a bag, I watch his arm muscles contracting dramatically through his canvas jacket. His broad shoulders barely fit through the small doorway, his head nearly knocking the top of the frame. Once his bags are inside the flat, I stare as he unlaces his men’s sized 48 shoes. Next he sheds his large jacket and government issued hoodie. He’s now only got a grey tank top on, practically useless the way it clings to his massive frame. He’s got a pair of cargo pants on, a few knives and tools strewn about the large pockets. They fit loose at the bottom, but they’re being pulled tight around his gigantic thigh muscles. They’re quite tight in other areas as well… I feel a tinge of jealousy wondering if any women had their eyes blessed seeing Simon in his uniform pants. His tattoos and prominent scars that dance about his skin make him look like something only an artist is capable of sculpting. His perfectly toned form with the largest muscles I’ve seen on a human make my breath hitch as I’ve never seen the guy wearing a tank top alone. Just a loose t shirt at best. He still hasn’t taken his mask off.
As I stand there watching my show, mouth slightly agape, he stands up and starts walking with purpose straight for my direction.
“S-simon?….” I stammer quietly.
“Y’shouldn’t try to reach things without at least tryin’ to be safe,” he murmured in is sweet, yet sinister and gravely voice.
I’m not sure why I feel like I can’t move. Maybe it’s because Simon is telling me he will be home… for a while? Or maybe because I can’t peel my eyes from the muscles that connect his shoulders to his neck… and maybe the ones on his arms as well.
He doesn’t seem to mind that I haven’t stepped out of the way. He stands over me, chest no more than a few centimeters from my face. This massive man is about a foot and a half taller than myself. I am engulfed in his presence as he reaches for the cat food bag with ease. I take in his scent, like a dog. He smells woody, smokey, and almost a little of dirty metal or even gun powder. God, it’s like a drug. I could inhale this forever. With his herculean shape in front of me, I can’t see anything beyond his broadened chest. The utter temptation to wrap my little arms around him and pull him into me is overwhelming. I yearn to get lost in his addicting scent with his colossal stature clung to me.
“Y’gonna take the bag from my hand or do I need to break ya from a trance down there?” he asks, dog tags still practically dangling in my face.
“Oh, uh, I’m sorry. Thank you for grabbing that,” I reply in my quiet, shy voice. “Well, um, how are you? Been a while, hasn’t it?”
He lets out a small chuckle, flashing his gorgeous teeth. “I’m as good as I can be, having come home from some combat.”
“Right… well, I was about to make myself some tea. Would you like some?” I ask, desperately changing the conversation.
“Y’know, that would do me just right, about now. Haven’t had any of the stuff since I shipped off,” he exhales tiredly.
“Right well, it’ll take me a bit to get that all ready for you, if that’s okay. One sugar, no cream and a spoon of honey, right?” I ask.
“Yeah… yeah that’s right,” he replies confusedly in his gruff voice. “Well I’ll have a shower then ‘n have my tea after.”
Simon turns for the bathroom to take one of his short, but steaming hot showers. I never moved any of his things in the bathroom while he was away, since I didn’t know when he would return.
As I finish up making our teas, I see the steam from the shower billowing through the warmly lit bathroom entry. The door creaks open.
He walks out with his face out of his balaclava, his dark blonde hair wet and curling, brooding, dark eyes bloodshot and tired. A tiny bit of eyeblack residual is stuck to his lower lash lines. My eyes can’t help but trail downward, something I seem unable to control around this man. He’s got loose, black sweatpants on. They’re sitting far below his well-built abs, resting right on the prominent bones of his hips. No shirt either, just the pants and some socks. Why is he doing this?
“Somethin’ I can do for you? Or is there a reason you’re lookin’ at me like I’ve got three heads?” Simon questions.
“…Your tea is ready for you,” I reply, almost in another trance by what I can see.
Simon makes his way to the table, and I bring him his tea. As I bend to set his tea down in front of him, I can feel eyes on my figure. My entire body feels like it’s being scanned.
“Lookin’ at me like I wasn’t the first to be wearin’ hardly any clothes,” Simon chuckles.
“Hey you didn’t even tell me you were coming back,” I reply, shy but defensive. I set down a plate with a couple of cookies I made yesterday for him to eat, too.
“I’m teasin’ ya sweetheart. Man, ‘ts a treat to come home from horrors of combat to a kind little lady makin’ tea for me. Rememberin’ exactly the way I drink it. Cookies too, huh? I forget what a sweet thing y’be,” he says so matter-of-factly.
“Oh, well, I just figure since you have probably been eating shit food and living in shit condition, the least I can do is be hospitable,” I reply as I sit across from him to have my tea. “Sorry I couldn’t do more, didn’t have much notice.” I add, rolling my eyes.
He looks so beautiful in the dimly lit dawn. The way his dark brown eyes are narrowing in on me, he’s almost looking at me the way an animal stares at prey. I’ve caught him doing this once before, when he was home and I was off to a company dinner party. But I’m not all dolled up in makeup and a pretty dress this time, my hair is in a messy braid and my pajama clothes aren’t nice either.
“You’re makin’ it difficult to break my stare. Never seen you in p’jamas quite like that before. Didn’t know you had a tattoo right on your little thigh like that,” he growls in his guttural voice. “You know, I ain’t seen a young woman since I last left. That was you.”
I shift my body to let my hair and my shoulders cover more of my frame. “I haven’t seen this much of you before, either Mister Riley. You got me earlier, I was in a trance when you leaned over me like that,” I reply in a daze. “I don’t know how a human even gets as… big… as you are.”
“Y’know sweetheart,” Simon exhales while sitting back in his seat, spreading his legs, and bucking his hips up. “Ev’ry time I have leave for work, I get a sense of relief that I’m allowed a break from thinkin’ of ya too much. When I come home to you bein’ a perfect ‘n kind little thing, it has to start all over.”
I stare at him in disbelief. My stomach feels like there’s fireworks inside of it. He has never said anything like this before. Is he drunk or something?
“Simon?” I ask. “Are you like… drunk? Or something?”
He laughs. “No, sweetheart ‘nfortunately not. Just figured since I’ll be stuck with ya a while, might as well be honest.”
“Well, Simon, you don’t make it easy to forget about you even when you aren’t here…” I trail off.
“Good, good. Guess we’re even then, yeah?” he asks teasingly, mocking my previous remark.
“I guess so,” I awkwardly smile back.
“You bake these cookies?” he asks me.
“Yeah, had nothing better to do when I got off of work yesterday I suppose,” I reply.
“Bakin’ cookies, keepin’ our place immaculately clean. Bein’ so kind ‘n looking so beautifully frail in your little p’jamas… your messy hair,” he murmurs. “Such a pure sight for sore eyes, the things I’ve seen before walkin’ through that door. Nothin’ as pure as yourself.”
“You being at home makes me feel safe, too, Simon,” I warmly and quietly respond.
“Y’know ya shouldn’t be feedin’ the cat at four o clock in the mornin’” Simon scolds. “Y’should be asleep, it’s Saturday.”
“Yeah, I know,” I reply with a yawn. “The thunderstorm woke me up, and then I couldn’t sleep. And then I thought someone was intruding and going to kill me you know, not super used to seeing a giant masked man open my front door.”
“Sounds like I need to put you back to bed,” Simon softly insists.
let me know if you liked my first short fic! ☠︎︎ ₊⟡⋆
