Red Rooms I Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

56. Happy Birthday

Gonna be real with y'all besties I had a fucking blast writing this chapter. It's pure smut & let me tell you one thing: Pearl got a pedicure done and is willing to use her pretty feet. If you don't like it i'm sorry and if you do, buckle tf up babes x

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"STUPID FUCKING…ARGH! THIS IS BULLSHIT!” you shout as you slam the baking dish onto the stove, tossing your oven mittens into the corner. It’s nearly midnight and you worked your ass off for the past 3 hours to prepare and bake snacks for tomorrows birthday dinner and following costume party.

What was supposed to be a nice lemon cake turned into some pathetic excuse of lemon curd, not solidifying at all. You were too tired & frustrated to fix it now. Dipping your finger into it to taste a tiny amount, you pull your face together as it way too sour.

“Just…Fucking…ugh” you mutter, taking a long look around your messy kitchen and sighing. Now who’s gonna clean this mess?

You slowly walked over to your couch to rest your feet for just a moment and check your phone, watching some stupid small videos on various apps to procrastinate the cleaning awaiting you.

As you were drowsing off, the doorbell rang. You shake up and check the time.

23:26

Who the fuck?

You knotted the bathrobe you were wearing and stepped to the door to press the intercomm button.

“Hello?” you speak into it.

“It’s Simon ‘ere."

Oh.

You press the button for the main entrance and stare at the wall in disbelief. Did he know about your birthday? You still haven’t invited him after all.

You hear the quiet noise of the elevator approaching your floor and stand on your tip toes nervously. Before the doors could open you check yourself in the huge mirror on your corridor wall, trying to look good & seducing; not like the sleep deprived, frustrated housewife you portrayed right now.

The elevator bings and you walk back to the door, standing in the doorway by the time Ghost appears.

He’s wearing a black balaclava with a skull print on it, some loose black cargo pants & his leather jacket. He looked well fit. Wait a minute-

“Don’t you need the crutches still?” was the first thing you said to him.

“Doin’ nice and dandy without ‘em, bird.” He says silently, walking with a limp but making his way to you. You let him inside and close the door, watching the way he walks to judge if he’s lying to you or not.

He takes off his wet jacket and puts it on a hanger in your corridor.

“Oh, it’s raining?” you ask, not having noticed at all. You were really losing yourself in the baking frenzy.

“Like hell…” the giant figure breathes out, taking off his black, heavy boots and storing them in your shoe cabinet. Feel at home, Mr. Riley?

You crossed your arms, still feeling confused by his visit. You nervously checked the time again, only 2 minutes had passed.

“Uhm…How can I…Help you? I was kind of…busy.”

“You’ve been bakin’?” he asks, lifting his head to scent the air.

“A little bit, yeah…”
Lies.
A lot.
It's been a lot of baking.