Your protective "friend" (SIMON GHOST RILEY x FEM!READER)

Chapter 9 The Sleepover

Simon's pov

As soon as she asked me to stay, i could see the uncertainly flickering in her eyes, like she half expected me to say no. There was a vulnerability in the way she stood there, biting her lip, her voice soft and tentative as if she was unsure if inviting me in was the right move. I turned my body fully towards her, glancing at my watch more out of habit than necessity, feeling the seconds stretch and blur. There was no question about the time. The truth was, there was nowhere else i wanted to be.
"Why not" i said, the words slipping out before i could overthink them, a smile tugging at my lips as i watched her shoulders relax, her face lighting up with a mix of relief and something else something that made my chest tighten in that familiar, frustrating way.

She stepped back, opening the door wider for me, and i followed her into the apartment, the warmth of the room wrapping around us like a soft blanket. I could still feel the echo of that quiet moment in the hallway, the brief, awkward hug that left me wishing id held on just a second longer. I shoved my hands into my pockets, trying to play it cool even as my mind raced with the possibility of the night ahead. She flicked on a few lights, the apartment glowing in soft, warm hues that made the space feel cozy and intimate. Id been here so many times before, but tonight, everything seemed different charged with a quiet intensity that buzzed beneath the surface. I watched as she moved around, straightening a few things that didn't need straightening, her movements quick and nervous. She was trying to mask her own uncertainty, just like i was. I wanted to tell her to relax, that i was okay, but i couldn't find the words. So, i just stood there, letting the silence fill the room, watching her.
"You want something to drink?" She asked, her voice light, a little too casual. She was already halfway to the kitchen before i could answer. "Sure", i said, leaning against doorway, my eyes following her every move. She opened the fridge and pulled out a couple of beers, setting them on the counter with a clink that echoed through the quiet. She handed me one. I felt the warmth of her warm hand on the fresh beer linger, my heart doing that stupid fluttering thing it always did whenever she was closer.
We settled in the couch, a familiar but strange closeness settling between us. She turned on the TV, scrolling through the channels without much interest, her gaze flickering over to me every few seconds as if checking to make sure i was still there. I took a sip of my beer, the cold bitterness grounding me for a moment, giving me something to focus on other than the way her knee was just inches from mine.
"You remember that time we stayed up all night watching those terrible horror movies?" She said suddenly, a small smile tugging at her lips as she glanced at me.
I chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, and you kept pretending you weren't scared, but every time something jumped out, you screamed louder than the TV." She laughed, a soft, melodic sound that filled the space between us. "I was not that bad" she protested, nudging me lightly with her elbow.
"Oh, you were worse" i teased, leaning back into the couch, my shoulders relaxing as the tension slowly began to ebb away. It felt good, easy, to fall back into this rhythm with her, to let the conversation flow without overthinking every word. But even as we laughed and talked, there was still underlying current, that unspoken thing between us that neither of us was quite brave enough to address.

As the night wore on, the conversation slowed, settling into comfortable silence. She leaned back against the couch, her head resting on the cushion as she stared at the TV without really seeing it. I watched her from the corner of my eye, taking in the way the soft light cast gentle shadows across her face, highlighting the curve of her cheek, the faint smile playing at her lips. She looked so at ease, so effortlessly beautiful, and i found myself wondering what it would be like to reach out and touch her, to run my fingers through her cheek, to close the distance between us once and for all. But i stayed still, she must have drifted off, her breathing evening out, her body slowly sinking into the cushions. I watched her for a moment, my heart clenching at the sight of her so relaxed, so vulnerable. Carefully, i reached over and pulled the blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over and pulled the blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over her gently. She stirred slightly but didn't wake, her lips parting in a soft, contenting sigh. I settled back. My heart pounding in my chest, looking at her lips with envy like i was craving water in the middle of a desert.
I reach forward and waved my hand in front of her face, testing the waters, and when she didn't stir, i knew she was sleeping. I inched closer, barely aware of the creak of the couch beneath me or the voices speaking in the TV in the background. All i could focus on was her the curve of her body under the blanket, the gentle flutter of her lashes, the way her lips were slightly parted as she breathed softly. My hand moved on its own, reaching out with a cautious slowness, as if trying to memorise every second of this forbidden closeness.
My hand drift up to her parted lips as i gently carres them, thrilled by the softness of those. I froze, my breath hitching in my throat, caught between the urge to pull back and the desire to let myself linger in this rare moment. I knew this was wrong, that i was treading on dangerous ground, but the pull was undeniable. My thumb traced the curve of her lower lip, my touch light and careful, like i was afraid she might shatter under my fingertips.

I could feel the heat of my own breath mingling with hers, the faintest scent of her perfume lingering in the air a soft, floral scent that id come to associate with her, something that clung to my clothes long after she'd left. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, half-formed fantasies that i wasn't proud of, but in that moment, i couldn't help myself. The quiet intimacy of the night made everything feel more intense, more urgent. The lines i had carefully drawn over the months were blurring. We had simple hangouts but god knows i wanted more, so much more...
My hand drifted down, gazing her jawline, tracing the gentle slope to her chin. She shifted slightly under my touch, a soft murmur escaping her lips, and i pulled back, my heart hammering in my chest. I held my breath, watching to see if she would wake, if she'd catch me in this moment of weakness. But she remained still, her face peaceful, lost in dreams wondering if i was a part of.

I sank back into my spot on the couch, guilt and longing warring inside me. I gripped the beer bottle again, taking a long sip in hopes that it would calm the storm inside me, but it only left a bitter taste on my tongue, a reminder of the line i had almost crossed.
I glanced at her again, the weight of what id just done settling heavily on my shoulders.
Id let myself get too close, let the walls id carefully built crumble just enough to expose how deeply she'd gotten under my skin. I knew i needed to get a grip, to put sole distance between us before i did something i couldn't take back. But every time i tried to look away, my gaze would drift back to her. My head falls back on the couch as my hands grip my jeans trying to stay steady.
"Fuck..." i whisper to myself my eyes switching back and forth from the void and her, the tv, and her face, the ceiling and her body, my hands and her curves. She was right there, so close yet still untouchable, and every part of me screamed for more. My hands clenched at my sides, fighting the overwhelming urge to reach out again, to feel the warmth of her skin beneath my fingertips, to cross that final line between us that id been too afraid to touch.
I couldn't take my eyes off her. The blanket clung to the gentle rise and fall of her chest, hinting at the shape of her body beneath it. My gaze traced the curve of her waist, the way her hips dipped beneath the soft fabric. My mouth went dry as i imagined what it would be like to slip the blanket away, to let my hands explore the softness i could only guess at from here.
I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to banish the thoughts before they got the better of me. 

I signed, too late...i was hard.

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