Don't wake me up

Tw: (slight stalking.)

It’s a rough morning for you.

Cat vomit on your rug, coffee grounds in your early morning cup of Joe, your clothes not sitting right on your skin. Everything seems to be going wrong for you today.

Slamming you cup into the sink you rush out the door, late. Because, of course you’re late.

And of all days, the day you needed to be early to work to set up a meeting.

The day seemed against you.

The morning air wraps around you but does little to soothe the simmering anger under your skin as you march to work.

So lost in your thoughts you don’t see the man slowly walking in front of you.

Only to stop dead in your tracks, running into what you can only assume is a human wall.

A masked man with dark eyes chuckles at you.

You snap your head up to meet his eyes, when recognition slaps you out of your bad mood.

“Simon?”

He nods, taking a step to the side to keep you away from the street as cars pass.

“Seems you’re in a hurry.”

You drag your hands over your face.

“I’m so late, you don’t even understand the day I’m having.”

His eyes crinkle above his mask.

“I’ll walk with you.”

—

Simon knew something was wrong the minute you didn’t rush out of the door at 9.

He left long before you could realize Simon wasn’t there for you to say good morning to.

The lucky charm that set heavy in his pocket reminded him just how important it was to look after you.

Stupid bird you are.

Someone had to.

—

Your eyes tiredly move to your clock sitting on your nightstand. 12:00 AM shines brightly back in your face making you squint.

Something like a groan leaves your lips as you toss once again in your bed, sheets ruffled with exhaustion.

You’ve been laying here for way too long, sleep avoiding you like a cat in a bath. Sitting up, your body aches with the tension you hold.

Your stomach twists and churns into knots with hunger, your mouth filling with saliva as an intense wave of nausea hits you.

Not enough to make you gag, just enough for you to hold your stomach cursing.

“Damn it, wish I ate.”

Huffing, you throw off your warm covers and move to your front door, giving into your relentless growing stomach.

You move down the eerily hallways of your apartment building, the wallpaper cracking and peeling from the walls.

The walk to the convenient store near by goes by quickly.

You’re still dressed in your pajamas, bunny slippers warming your toes as you enter the small, suspicious gas station.

You walk to the aisle your feet take you to, standing in front of a colorful array of chips and sweets.

Nothing and everything looks good.

Footsteps approach you from your side, out of instinct you look over to see a familiar hulking sized man.

A smile pulls at your lips, almost embarrassed to be so casually dressed.

He’s not even looking at you, his attention dead set on the snacks sitting in front of you.

“Simon?”

You chuckle, his name sounding repetitive after the other morning of literally running into him.

Like he just noticed your presence, Simon looks over at you only to look back at the food with a stillness in his features.

“You been walkin’ a lot.”

He says without any hint to what he’s thinking.

You sigh, reaching for your go to snack.

“Can’t find my car-keys anywhere.”

You look at him with an exhausted expression, more tired than any sleep could fix.

“And trust me, I’ve looked everywhere.”

He clicks his tongue.

“Not safe at night.”

Too tired to argue you nod, honestly you do agree. It’s not safe, especially around this area. You open your mouth to reply when his rough voice cuts you off.

“Let me drive you home.”

He adds as he turns to face you.

“We literally live in the same building.”

You shake your head no, an embarrassment flushing your cheeks.

“What, no Simon it’s fine.”

You stammer.

“Plus we’re only like—“

Again he cuts you off, this time with a stern look that makes your spine tingle.

“I’m taking you home. Check out, and let’s go.”

Now flustered and exhausted you rush to the counter to pay.

You leave with your snacks in hand, climbing into Simon Riley’s beat up Chevy.

He leaves empty handed, minus the extra car key sitting in his pocket.

—

Simon sits in his truck a while after you leave.

His knuckles white around the steering wheel as he watches you walk inside the building.

Something loosening in his chest when he sees the third floor second window over go from pitch black to warm with light only a few minutes after you leave.

He lets go, hitting the back of his seat with a soft thud.

Exhaling harshly through his nose.

Safe.

He’s spent the last week watching you walk. Noticing how you never check over your shoulder, not even once.

He clicked his tongue at the thought, shutting his door a little too harshly once he gets home.

—

By the time the bus makes it to the grocery store your hands are sweaty with anxiety.

So many people, all sitting way too close, a man having the confidence to brush against you during the ride. Your mind immediately runs through the worst possible case scenarios that could happen.

You gasp as you shove your way out of the automatic doors.

Feeling an automatic rush of relief, as you step farther away into the less crowded streets.

A couple feet away, your eye catches a large shadow moving across the street.

Your gaze stays there, only for a moment before you move back to your original mission.

“Fuck, need more coffee.”

You mutter underneath your breath, taking a turn towards the supermarket.

Maybe it was the bus ride, maybe it’s the lack of caffeine and sleep in your system but with every step you take, you hear another one.

But, everytime you turn you see nothing.

Not a person.

Not Simon.

You swallow the unease building in your chest as you quickly walk into the grocery store.

“One thing. In and out.”

You tell yourself like that will make this feeling go away.

As you walk down the isles you’re looking over your shoulder, turning too quickly at the sound of a squeaky cart and bumping into almost everything in your way.

You’ve never felt like such a scary cat until now.

You fiddle with your phone that’s been sitting heavy in your pocket.

You walk around in circles, going nowhere.

You chew at your cheek until you taste metal.

You spot two doors that lead to somewhere tucked away, above the doors read a sign that you ignore as you push past the metal doors leading you to what you can only assume is the back.

There’s crates full of packaged foods giving you the perfect wall to hide in, if someone was really on your tail.

The glow of your screen illuminates your face as you unlock your phone with shaky hands.

The metal doors you just entered from slowly creak open. Your breath gets caught in your throat.

Someone was following you.

Your finger hits the call button on Simon’s contact, using your last ditch effort.

It rings.

Then.

You stand in the kitchen of the quaint apartment you share with Simon. Your arm is outstretched, keeping you steady against the edge of the counter, and your ankles are crossed below you. The blinking clock on the stove reads 12:24 A.M, the dim glow of streetlights pours in through the window above the sink, and all you did was come in for a drink of water, but you still hear the shuffling footsteps of your boyfriend who walks like the dead when he's tired.

His arms wrap around your waist, swallowing your body whole with the sheer size of him, locking you down in place. He places a kiss on your shoulder while his hands roam. One hand snakes under his over-sized shirt you wear, bunching it up until his palm finds your breasts and he squeezes the plush skin. His other hand makes its way to your thin, cotton panties, pushing past the waistband and finding its way in between your thighs.

"So warm," he whispers groggily, placing a soft kiss to your neck, and goosebumps line your skin despite the warmth his body has to offer.

His chest is pressed against your back, his mouth to your skin, and the longer you linger there with his hands caressing your body, the more you want him. He sucks, bites, licks your neck, leaving purple bruises to ache in his wake, all while he continues to stimulate every last part of you. His fingers toy with your nipple, pulling and pinching until it peaks within his grasp. His palm grinds against your clit, just enough to drive you insane but not enough to do really anything.

"Si," you say breathlessly, moving your hips with the rhythm of his body unintentionally, rubbing your ass against his hard cock that aches in his boxers which earns you a groan of desire from the man behind you. "Let's go back to bed, Si."

"Can't make it to the bed lovie… need to be inside you here, right now," he says, voice low and rough around the edges with lust as he pushes down your panties until your legs are forced to uncross and the fabric strains against your skin.

pairing: neighbor!simon “ghost” riley x neighbor!reader

summary: you ask your neighbor for help with your gardening

masterlist!

“okay, maybe i can’t do this on my own,” you huffed to yourself, wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. your car’s trunk was open, you leaned inside, hunched over a large bag of soil compost, another large bag of perlite positioned next to it. you’ve been trying to pick up this stupid bag of compost for the last five minutes, failing to even lift it an inch. you needed a fucking break, choosing to rest your torso against the plastic, plump boobs pushed up to your chin.

“ya need some help there, fawn?” you heard a deep voice ask, yelping at the gruff accent that startled you, jumping up from the trunk, a loud thud being heard, followed by an ow. hitting the back of your head on the car’s roof, and it hurt so damn bad, hand quickly moving to the injured spot. “oh shit,” the sound of footsteps getting closer to you.

you felt a hand on the small of your back, guiding you out of your trunk and straightening your spine when you were free. you felt a second hand on the top of your head, assuming the person was shielding you from another potential injury. “s’ always somethin’ involvin’ m’ tha’ scares ya,” he tells you, moving his large hand from your head, taking hold of your tiny hand, the one that wasn’t clinging your bodily harm. “hi ghost,” you still sweetly say, despite your pain. “hi y/n,” he replies, now rubbing circles on your lower back, skull balaclava ruffling in the wind. oh, your neighbor was so enamored by you, obsessed with your good-natured spirit.

the brit had stepped outside his house for a smoke, your small figure repeatedly moving from your car to your house grabbing his attention. he noticed you were carrying things inside, taking a final inhale and puff before putting out the bud and walking towards your driveway. the man decided he would help his little neighbor, still feeling bad for the way his dog frightened you. he’s seen you since in passing, mostly while you’re on your walks, a beautiful smile adorned your features while you waved to him, the man nodding in return, but he hasn’t had the opportunity to actually speak with you. you seemed like your were struggling with the last couple of items, so what better chance than now?

the man’s cheeks reddened at your state. seeing your full, round ass perched in the air, plush thighs spread slightly, it was doing things to him, ghost moving a hand to his clothed dick. you were such a pretty bonnie to your british neighbor, the brute shaking his mind free of all the dirty thoughts he conjured, m’ here to help tha’ lass out, he reminded himself.

frowning at your current predicament, “saw ya strugglin’ and jus’ wanted to see if ya wanted m’ help?” he’s looking at the back of your head now, examining the damage, “m’ so sorry ‘bout yer pretty head, hon.”

“no worries! it doesn’t hurt too much anymore,” you try to reassure, but the ex lieutenant didn’t miss the way you winced when his hand grazed over the area. looking into his eyes, you continued, “i could actually use some help,” you attempt to change the subject, “i’m trying to make a strawberry tower, infinite strawberries for all eternity!” a beat. “what?”

“i saw a tutorial on how to make a plant tower for strawberries to grow in. i’ve been wanting to start a new project for a while, and i guess today is the first day, haha,” you giggle while explaining.

you showed your neighbor the video you were referring to, ghost nodding his head, “m’ can help ya with tha’. shouldn’ be too hard for us, fawn,” he winked next, you looking down at your intertwined fingers. he detected the blush on your cheeks, patting your back with his other hand, “let’s get to work, yeah?”

with a final squeeze to your hand, he walked you a couple of steps backwards, going to your trunk alone. you couldn’t stop your jaw from dropping at his succeeding actions, your neighbor picking up both bags of soil compost and perlite in one arm, using his available one to shut your trunk.

he faced you, gesturing you to lead the way. “is that not heavy, ghost?” your mouth still agape, leading the man to your backyard. “don’ weigh nothin’,” he shrugged. “not fair,” you mumbled, holding your front door open, the brute laughing. “the backyard door is at the very end, just keep walking straight.”

ghost couldn’t stop his eyes from roaming, couldn’t help observing your home, taking in your colorful furniture and abstract decorations. he needed to find ways to be in here more, a complete opposition to his dark furniture and boring, plain walls.

you opened the back door for him, following him to your pile of other gardening objects, “i already brought everything else here, so we can start now!”

you and ghost had been working on this project for a little over an hour, riley now running around in your backyard, barking at the occasional squirrel he saw. your neighbor brought him over about half an hour ago, you actually asking him if riley could come. “of course he can.”

ghost did all of the harder, physical labor, while you did more of the prepping, removing his shirt at some point, using it to wipe the sweat from his toned body. the sight was heavenly, his strong build sending a throb to your core, imagining feeling all his muscles with your hands. you coughed and awkwardly looked away when he caught you staring, a snicker leaving him. “u-uh, here’s the tutorial,” a cute stutter as you fumbled for your phone.

he obeyed the instructions, sticking the plant stake deep into the ground. you spent time cutting draining holes into each of your pots, placing them on the stick, alternating each one to build your tower. you watched your shirtless neighbor pour in the compost and perlite, the sweat glistening on his muscles making you salivate. ghost was so fucking attractive and he treated you so nicely. you felt yourself developing a little crush on your neighbor, wanting to somehow spend more time with him.

you buried your soaked strawberry roots into the pots after he flattened the mixture, the man going to grab your water hose while you were finishing up the last one. “all the strawberry roots are in!” you happily exclaimed, petting riley when he ran up to you.

you proceeded giving riley pets, the large brit spraying the hose over your strawberry tower. “s’ all officially done, sweets. we did it,” ghost tells you, joining you in your pets after returning your hose.

before you could stop yourself, you hugged him when he squatted down, ghost rocking back and forth, trying to balance both of you, “thank you so much for your help, ghost! it means so, so much to me,” you say, arms wrapping around his neck.

feeling his arms circle your waist, massive hands roaming your back, you wanted to melt in his hold, felt so weak in it, “m’ help ya with whateva’, fawn. wheneva’ ya need somethin, need anythin’, you tell m’, yeah?”

he pulls back at your lack of response, clutching your chin in his tight grip, forcing your attention on him, your eyes on him. “tha’s’ no good,” he tsks, raising your chin higher, leaning your head back, “m’ asked ya a question.”

“i u-understand, sir,” you gulped out, the man releasing his hold on your face, you wrapping yourself around him again. “good.”

he kept you in his hold for a while longer, the both of you craving this for longer than you’d like to admit. feeling your hot neighbor’s beefy muscles around your smaller frame, oh, it was just straight ecstasy. what would it take to get this man inside? get in his pants? the things you’d do to ghost, yeah, you needed that.

the last time I reblogged this post right before I got a great job, in a permanent work-from-home position, with benefits, retirement, and a salary literally 3x what I was making before, doing something I really like. 

So you know.