Red Rooms I Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

23. Little bird

As weird as it may sound, leaving his dick felt wrong. You liked being as close as it can get to him. You stayed in the cowgirl position for a bit, your sticky thighs on his. His big hands gently placed on your calves. You wanted this moment to last. But of course it wouldn't.

You got up and headed towards the door, turning around to take a good look at Ghost. He's laying on his back, facing the window, away from you. Probably enjoying the view or processing or whatever. His dick was still hard and the condom filled with his cum, quite the amount too. He scratches his chest followed by both of his large hands resting on his torso, not letting go of the habit to cover up even after being this intimate with you. You tip-toed your way to the bathroom, closing the door to pee. Sitting on the toilet, you allow yourself to release a faint, celebratory squeak. You stay there for a moment, giggling all by yourself.

Reaching for the towels on your way out you step into the bedroom, Ghost still laying there on his back. The condom was gone by now, his dick soft and resting along his right thigh. Even in this state it still was quite big. And even in this position, butt naked on your pink sheets, he looked threatening and majestic.

"Here" you whisper as you lowered one of the towels onto the bed. His hand weakly moving towards it but his head still facing the window. You rush to the kitchen to get some spoons, nearly slipping on your own juices on the floor. How could you forget. You turn red, recalling what you did on one of your favourite parts about this apartment and begin wiping it away just roughly, as you're too exhausted to take care of it all right now. All you could think of was laying in bed with Ghost and finally devouring the goddamn tiramisu.

So you tip-toe back to the bedroom with the dessert and 2 spoons in your hand, as you could not believe your eyes.

He did not move one bit in the time you were gone. His veiny hand barely made it's way to the towel you put down for him. You walk over to get a better look on his masked face and you're confirmed in what you were thinking.

This man was sound asleep.

Unbelieveable.

You freeze, not knowing what to do now. Should you wake him up? No. He already told you that he's been working out all day and then the steamy session you two had afterwards...He probably needed this sleep. But he also said that he doesn't want to miss out on this tiramisu!

You stood there in silence, watching his broad chest rise and fall in slow motions. His long lashes making him look like sleeping beauty. If you ignore the black mask covering 90% of his face.

You loved this view. How could he be so threatening, yet so wholesome at the same time? You wish you'd have a photo of this, knowing there's no way you'd be allowed to take it.

You take this rare opportunity to inspect his torso. Scars covering the majority, one looking nastier than the other. There's even a pretty big one near his heart, it sends shivers down your spine. You take a closer look at it, before you just have to look away, it feels too personal. You figured by now, that this man did not enjoy being the center of attention. Wounded as he is, he looks so peaceful right now.

"Okay, good nighty, Ghost..." you whisper, slowly carrying the dessert away to store it in your fridge. Leaving the room you hear a low mumble.

As you come back into the bedroom,the big figure is still sleeping, his head facing the empty space next to him now though and one of his big paws covering half his face. You silently enter your bed, trying not to wake him as it moves a bit. You don't have two blankets but instead one huge duvet. Carefully you start to pull the end out from underneath Ghosts heavy weight, convinced that he's gonna wake up from your attempt.

"Bird..." he growls deeply, stretching out his big, bare arm towards you.

Your cheeks heat up. Was he inviting you to cuddle? You manage to pull out the duvet and place it over you two, snuggling up closer into his arm, which he wraps around you. He sniffs your hair with his eyes closed.

Is this the same man that speaks 2 sentences per hour? What was going on?

"Wnfgh...you to know, little bird.." he whispers. Barely audible. Sleep about to knock him out again.

You hold your breath in order to make out what he's saying.

"Want you to know that i've got my eyes on you. You're safe. Bastard... ever pulls a... stunt on you..."

He does not finish his sentence.

He does not have to.