Red Rooms I Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Try again

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♡♡♡

"Can you believe it? No friends?!" You quietly ranted whilst putting your face cream next to the massive bed Ghost was sitting in.

" 's hard out there...Children are reckless. Always going for the weakest..." His deep voice rumbled as he was leaning against the headboard checking his phone one last time.

"But...not even one?! That can't be, Simon... He needs friends...Everyone does..."

The worry in you caused your shaky hands to drop the lid. Having to bend over in your short nightgown, it's obvious who's allowing himself a quick glimpse of that. Dark, hazel eyes focusing back on the screen as he noticed you turning around. He heard you chuckle.

Of course you'd chuckle.

He was wearing his reading glasses, a rare sight you had nearly forgotten about. He put his phone aside and sighed, beginning to take them off.

"Nooo," you purred as you crawled onto the bed, "..., I just forgot about them... They suit you...Pretty well actually..." you allowed yourself a quick flirt.

"Quite the reason to laugh, huh..." he murred as he looked at the slim frame in his large hands. This is what it's come to.

The warm, faint smell of your body lotion endulged him. His gaze shifted to you getting cozy and sliding under the blanket to share his warmth. He put the glasses on his nightstand and carefully leaned down on his back with a sharp hiss escaping his lips as the stitches sent a stinging pain through his lower area.

"Should I get you some painkillers?"

"Already---" he grunted as he finally found a position to sleep in, "Fuck,...Already took some...You stay right here, Pearl...Rest..." he finished by placing his tattooed arm along his chest. You watched his closed eyes carefully. Taking away his roughly shaved buzzcut & broad, massive figure; if it were just for his blonde lashed eyes... He could be an angel. Something so calming and angelic about his sleeping face. Well...Maybe taking away the scars scattered along his pale skin too...
Next, your eyes travelled down to his tattoo sleeve, plenty of times you had observed it by now though you had never asked him any questions about it, really.

"Simon?"

"...Hm?" He responded with eyes still closed, his chest breathing slow & steady.

"What's the story on your tattoo?"

Surprisingly, he did not hesitate to answer.

"Second year in the army. Was just a young bloke with some..." he opened one eye to take in the faded tattoos himself, "...visions." The irony dripping off his lips made you smile and carefully snake closer to his body, cautious to not cross any boundaries of his.

"So you regret it...?"

He closed his eye again and scoffed quietly.

"Don't regret a thing."

You felt the warmth radiating fron him by now, you could even smell the usual scent of his pinewood shower-gel surrounding him faintly. How badly you wanted to just squeeze your face into the crook of his neck to inhale all of him. His smell, his warmth. Feel his vibrating, deep voice. The stubble on his jaw scratching along your cheek...

"...Back then all the lads would have something like it."

"Pardon?" His voice pulled you out your love-drunken trance.