#roommate!simon

It happened that Thursday.

It should’ve faded by now. The nightmare, the panic, the way your lips brushed the side of his head. But Simon carried it through the week like a bruise he couldn’t stop pressing at. He’d gone quieter, sharper around the edges and he thought he’d hidden it well enough. So, when he heard the front door earlier, he assumed you’d left for your run.

Slippers by the door, jacket missing from the hook, the same routine you’d followed for the last few weeks. But he hadn’t realized you’d doubled back for your headphones.

His voice reached you before you rounded the corner into the kitchen. “—no, it’s fine,” Simon was saying stiffly, that clipped edge he used with strangers. “Just send the bloody invoice. I’ll pick up the keys tomorrow."

You froze in the hallway, breath catching. The keys? Your hand tightened around your water bottle, cold plastic creaking under your grip.

“Yes, I know it’s been ready,” he snapped, pacing a tight line. “Bloody hell, no, I’m not givin’ up the place—I’ll move back in. Didn’t have fuckin’ time before now.” Your stomach dropped.

Ready? Before now?

You stepped into the doorway, quiet but not quiet enough. His head snapped up and the change was instantaneous. His voice softened, shoulders straightened slightly, like he could tuck whatever truth he’d just admitted back under the surface. He ended the call with a short, “I’ll ring you later,” and slipped his phone into his pocket.

You stared at him. “Mold’s been cleared for a week?”

He blinked, jaw flexing. “Was gonna’ tell you.”

“When?” you shot back, not loud, not even sharp, just flat. Controlled. The kind of tone you used in the field when something didn’t add up.

His nostrils flared. “Didn’t think it mattered.”

“You’ve been living here for six weeks,” you snapped, the first crack in your composure. “Cooking in my kitchen, sleepin’ in the bed I don’t use, acting like—”

You cut yourself off. Acting like what? Like he belonged? Like he wanted to be here

He crossed his arms, defensive. “I wasn’t takin’ advantage.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You’re implyin’ it.”

“No, Simon,” you said, stepping closer. “I’m asking why you lied.”

His jaw ticked again. He looked away, the tell he never realized he had. “I didn’t lie.”

“Saying nothing is the same damn thing.”

He scoffed under his breath. “Ain’t always.”

“Oh, so we’re doing technicalities now?”

He bristled. “Yer pissed at me. Fine. Be pissed.”

You threw your hands up. “I’m not— I don’t even know what I am.” Your voice wavered, barely a crack. “You kiss me and then act like that didn’t happen. You sleep down the hall but hover like you’re guarding the perimeter. You make me tea every morning like its muscle memory but can’t look me in the eye long enough to tell me your flat’s been fine for days?” Your voice is high and clipped.

He stepped forward. So did you. “Tell me what I’m supposed to think,” you whispered.

He stared at you like you’d just pulled the pin from a grenade. Then something in him snapped.

“I DON’T FUCKIN’ KNOW, DO I?!” he shouted. The sound ricocheted off the walls. You startled, not because you were afraid of him, but because you’d never heard that volume from him inside four safe, domestic walls.

Hands fisted at his sides, shoulders drawn tight, breathing hard, the mask sliding back over him like a shutter slamming down. “Don’t know what I’m supposed to think,” he growled, pacing once, sharp, ripping a hand through his hair. “Don’t know how I’m supposed to stay away when you— when this place—” He stopped himself, tension vibrating through him. “And you’re askin’ why I didn’t say anything?”

You swallowed. “Yes.”

He laughed. Harsh. Bitter. “Because I knew this’d happen.”

You blinked. “What? Me asking why you lied?”

“No,” he snapped. “Me fuckin’ it up.”

You opened your mouth but he cut you off, louder now, voice cracking, “You think I don’t know what it looks like? Lingerin’ around here. Cookin’ in your kitchen. Sleepin’ down the hall wantin’ to—” He bit down on the sentence so hard his jaw trembled. “—wantin’ too much.”

Silence. The moment was heavy and fragile. You hadn’t moved and neither had he. He finally lifted his eyes to yours, and this was the worst part — he looked furious, but every bit of it was directed inward.

The self-hatred, the fear, the guilt. All of it aimed squarely at himself. Not you, never you. He stepped back like he’d come too close to something dangerous. Like you were the thing that could make him lose control.

“You shouldn’t jus’ be angry,” he muttered, voice ripping low. “You should kick me out.”

You stared at him, chest tight, heart pounding, realizing he actually believed that. You stared at the rigid line of his shoulders. At the fists he kept clenching and unclenching. At the way he couldn’t look at you without flinching, like wanting you was a weakness that disgusted him.

He thought you should kick him out. He genuinely thought that.

“Simon,” you said, voice low but steady, “if I wanted you gone, you’d be gone.”

His breathing stuttered. Just once. “And I’m not angry because you’re here,” you added. “I’m angry because you’re acting like it doesn’t mean anything.”

That got him. His head snapped toward you. “It doesn’t—”

“Oh, fuck off,” you cut in, stepping forward. “We’re way past pretending.”

His eyes went wide, then narrowed, not at you, but at himself, because he had no argument. None. He took a step closer. “You don’t know what you’re sayin’.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying.”

“You don’t.”

“Then tell me I’m wrong.”

Silence. Thick. Brutal. His jaw worked, breath heaving, eyes burning with everything he refused to say. He looked furious. Wrecked. Cornered. At himself. At you. At the six weeks of pretending you both hadn’t already crossed a line the minute you folded and stacked his laundry for him.

You felt heat rising in your chest, the kind of frustration that made your hands shake. “Say it, Simon. You fucken can’t even—”

He moved.

One second there was air between you, the next his hand was in your hair, the other gripping your waist, pulling you into him with a force that wasn’t gentle by any definition of the word.

He kissed you like he hated it. Like he hated that he wanted it. Hated that he’d let it get this far. Hated himself for every reason he stayed and every reason he should’ve left.

Your gasp hit his mouth, swallowed instantly, your hands fisting in the front of his shirt as you dragged him closer, matching his anger with your own. You kissed him back like you were furious with him. With yourself. With all the ways you’d both been so stupid.

His lips were hot, harsh, desperate. Yours answered with equal fervor.

He muttered something against your mouth — half-growled, half-broken. “Bad fuckin’ idea, this,” he breathed, but it came out like a confession, not a warning.

“Too late,” you shot back, dragging his lips down to you again.

He groaned, low and ragged, like he’d been holding it back for weeks and his hands slid to your hips, gripping hard enough that you felt your breath catch. “We’re fuckin’ idiots,” he muttered against your mouth.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, brushing your lips over his. “Absolute idiots.”

He huffed a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh, then suddenly bent, one arm hooking behind your thighs, the other bracing your back. Before you could react, you were in the air.

“Simon—”

“Not talkin’ anymore,” he growled, standing to his full height with you cradled against him. “We’re too bloody stupid for talkin’.”

He kissed you once more, quick and sharp, as he carried you down the hall like it was the most natural thing he’d ever done.

roommate!simon x fem!roommate!reader

You accidentally walk in on your roommate, Simon and decide to help him out.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) oral (both f and m receiving) masturbation, fingering, both Simon and reader are pervs

You should have known that you wouldn’t be able to work from home when Simon’s there. Things have been awkward between the two of you the moment you moved in with him. You try to make conversation and be nice, but he just ignores you as much as possible. It’s always one word responses like he wishes he’d rather be anyone but here. He was so normal when he interviewed you to be his roommate. But the second you moved in, everything shifted.

It was like he turned into a completely different person. He’s no longer the nice guy you talked to that night and now he barely even looks at you. If you come into any room in the apartment, he leaves. He’ll be watching something on the TV and then go to his room the second you walk through the front door.

Simon knows that he’s being a dick but he can’t help it. He’s starting to like you way more than he should. He knows that the second lines are crossed, there’s no going back. He wants to get to know you better, but he knows that if he’s in a room with you, he’ll just do something he’ll regret. Something he shouldn’t.

He’d never tell you how badly he wants to kiss you. He’d never tell you that he jacks off to the thought of you every time he takes a shower, pretending that his hand is yours. And he knows it’s wrong to ignore you, but what else can he do? Tell you how he feels? Yeah, there’s no fucking way that’s happening.

He’s found himself in the shower yet again, but this time, it’s to hide from you. You’re folding laundry in the living room, wearing that tight tank top that drives him crazy. He can see your nipples so clearly and is trying so hard to not think about how much he wants to have them in his mouth.

He wants to lie you back on that couch and have his way with you as you beg for more. Or maybe he wants to be between your thighs, devouring you until you beg him to stop. He’s getting hard just thinking about it and tries to shake it out of his head. You’re just down the hall and he’s paranoid that you’d hear him even though the water beating down on his back would drown out the sound.

The water running is a nice background noise for folding your laundry. But as you think about how it’s Simon in the shower, you can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to get in there with him. You’d love to back him against the wall and get on your knees to suck him off like you’ve been wanting to do for months.

can’t stop thinking about roommate!simon who was surprised you actually agreed to move in with him, a random online stranger, whom he was sure got scared off when you met to discuss terms

roommate!simon, who was struggling to find a roommate. taller being an understatement with the way he loomed over you, scars littering his body and gruff exterior - sure to send anyone running

and roommate!simon was sure you were no exception, showing up in a pink knitted sweater with flowers (homemade by yourself he later learnt), your beaming smile was sure to waver, no matter how positive your outlook.

but apparently the terms were so appealing to you, you agreed on the spot! surely because of the added benefit of roommate!simon being on assignment for months at a time .. and not because you couldn’t fight your thighs squirming at the sight of the wall of a man and his low voice.

after a few months of living together roommate!simon had still mostly kept to himself, with the occasional note left behind by roommate!simon telling you when he’s left for assignments.

and you, you were frustrated, sure in the sense you wanted to be his friend and were annoyed.. but you were also sexually frustrated!

these last few months it’s as if roommate!simon has been dangling himself in front of you, walking around with no shirt on, in a towel after a shower, or the way his muscles barely fit in the black compression tees of his.

teasing you with the smug look on his face, like he knows exactly what your thinking, then leaving you with no release!

you had enough of roommate!simon antics, you needed to get his attention somehow, get him to just talk to you then you can figure out how to jump his bones!

so while roommate!simon was away on assignment you started leaving pieces of yourself around his bare, bleak apartment.

of course when you first moved in he had muttered briefly about how you can put your stuff anywhere, but you had been too polite to take him up on that, until now

roommate!simon’s bachelor-pad coded black leather couch now had a pink knit blanked draped over it, throw pillows and plushies littered the surface.

and when simon got back from deployment of course he noticed, he also noticed your self satisfied smile, so he chose to do nothing, you were bound to break soon,

seeing his lack of response you decided to up your game, waiting until you heard the shower running, you scrambled to your underwear draw, grabbing the skimpiest thong you own, before sneaking over to his door,

the only rule he had set in the apartment, he had been stern and clear with you when you first moved in, “look kid, I don’t wan’ you goin’ in m’room ‘nd snooping through my stuff, hm?” in that low, panty dropping voice of his.

but fuck it, you slowly open his door, being sure not to step on any creaky floorboards, before leaving the panties draped on the edge of his bed.

roommate!ghost who tucks you into your bed and sits on the edge of it for what feels like forever debating whether he should stay. You came home pretty drunk and he knew if he went back to his own room he would not get a wink of sleep worrying about all the things that could happen if he wasn't right there to protect you. He ends up convincing himself that he needs to watch you, at least, but somehow he ends up right next to you. Under the covers with his head facing yours to hear the steady sound of your breath. It's not his fault when the next moment he wakes up with you in his arms, his wide palm on your lower back under your scruched up t-shirt. His other arm locked in place by both your hands gripping tight around his wrist, fingers not even touching. The sight of it does something to him, sparks a heat deep in his stomach that suddenly makes his hips feel far too close to yours. It gets even worse when a line appears between your brows, a bad dream playing across your face in a way that makes him want to lick the crease away.

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖! 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈

Simon catching baby fever, but you’re only roommates...

141 masterlist (there'll be a part two of this)

Before you, the only time Simon really left his flat when he was home on leave was to go to the gym or to go get groceries. 

He was content with this routine, he found comfort in the familiarity of it, and enjoyed the peace and quiet of his own space. Or at least that is what he told himself. This way of life had been sufficient for him for a long time, but as time went on he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. 

That is when Simon found himself considering the idea of getting a flatmate. He thought about it for a while, weighing the pros and cons in his mind. On one hand, he enjoyed his independence and privacy. On the other hand, having someone else around the flat could be a good thing, and he does have an extra bedroom in the flat that’s just collecting dust. Maybe it would be a good idea… Maybe.

After much contemplation, Simon finally decided to take the plunge and start looking. He posted an ad online, and waited for responses to come in. To his surprise, he received a good handful, he had actually not anticipated that that many, if any, would be interested in sharing his space. It is a little overwhelming, and as he goes through the applications he starts to doubt whether he had made the right decision. 

What if he didn’t get along with any of them? What if they were messy or loud or just generally annoying? It was a dumb idea to begin with, he thought to himself, but then as he looked through the last application, something caught his eye.You. 

CW: exhibitionism, reader is HORNY ASF like rlly fkn horny, use of buttplugs and sex toys, THIS IS SO FILTHY BUT PLS LMK IF U WANT MORE WORK LIKE THIS

Taglist: @valentineofoctobers

At first it made you awkward, knowing your roommate had seen you like that, but the awkwardness turned to desire. Something carnal had possessed you as you found excuses to spend more time near him, teasing him until he snapped.

You started off tame, bending over slightly with lacy panties on, the mere display of them shown before you walked away. Then you grew more confident, wearing no undergarments as you wiped the floor down, your skirt leaving nothing to the imagination as the slit of your pussy tantalised his view, brown eyes drawn to your exposed cunt.

midnight troubles

⋆.⊹♡ summary: when roommate!simon gets home from work the only thing on his mind is you.

⋆.⊹♡ cw: CNC!!! somnophilia, creampie, manhandling, bratty sub if you squint, pervy simon, size kink, oral, throatfucking, pet names (the teeniest bit sloppy and not proof read)

⋆.⊹♡ word count: somewhere around 2k

⋆.𐙚 ̊-₊˚⊹

Simon had just gotten home from work, his mind a whirlwind of stress and frustration. He kicked off his shoes and dropped his bag by the door, the clatter echoing through the silent apartment. He made his way through the halls of your shared apartment and paused only for a moment when the soft glow of the television caught his eye. Your door was slightly cracked open and the tv cast a gentle light across the room, the hum of some show playing softly in the background. You were nestled in a warm pile of blankets, your body curled up in a cozy ball, fast asleep. The room was a sanctuary of comfort, the air thick with the nauseatingly sweet scent of vanilla and marshmallow and the faint sound of the heater kicking on and off. Your hair was splayed out across the pillow, a few strands sticking to your cheek, and your breath was slow and steady.

He stared longer than he’d usually allow himself to but you were sleeping and he hadn’t seen anything like this in so long. He began to head to his room, the familiar creak of the floorboards under his feet a comforting sound. He stripped down to his boxers and laid in his stiff bed, eager to let off some steam, his hand dipped below his waistband and wrapped around his throbbing cock, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn't concentrate, his thoughts consumed by the image of you, sweet and inviting, just across the hall.

He debated with himself, his hand stilling as he considered his options. He could stay in his room, try to jerk off again, or he could go to you…no. That was wrong. He can’t believe he even considered that. But he couldn’t help it. The thought of you, so close and yet so far, was driving him mad. He stood up, his decision made, and walked across the hall to your room. He pushed the door open slowly, the hinges creaking softly. He stayed silent, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. He saw you there, your comforter still engulfing your entire body. He stood and watched you for a moment, his thoughts full of you and the way you’d look under him.

He debated leaving, his conscience warring with his desire. But the sight of you, so peaceful and effortlessly beautiful, was too much to resist. He walked in, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. He approached your bed, his heart pounding in his chest. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he pulled back some of the blankets. The heat radiating from your body was intense. He could feel it seeping into his skin, sending a chill down his spine.

He gently pushed a single strand of hair off of your face, his fingers lingering on your soft skin. He took a moment to admire your features, the curve of your cheek, the fullness of your lips, the dark lashes fanning out across your cheeks. God, you were so pretty. He took a deep breath, his cock throbbing in his boxers. He couldn't resist any longer. He took his cock out, the tip sticky and swollen. He pushed it between your plump, soft lips, hitting your closed teeth. He hummed, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. He grabbed your jaw, his fingers gentle but firm, and shoved two fingers in between your teeth to separate your gums. He pushed his cock back in slowly, now halfway in your mouth.

"So warm," he murmured, his fingers caressing your face as you slept peacefully. He slid further down your throat, his hands moving to your head, holding it in place as he took it upon himself to slowly fuck your throat. The wet noises of your throat and his breathing filled the room, the sound of his hips slapping against your face a harsh contrast to the soft hum of the television. He could feel his orgasm building, the sensation of your throat around his cock almost too much to bear. But he held out, his body trembling with the effort.

You only woke up when he got a little greedy, shoving himself too far down your throat, leaving only his balls out of your mouth. It blocked your airway, and you woke up with a startle, your eyes flying open as you gasped for breath. He kept you calm, his hands holding your jaw tightly so you wouldn't accidentally bite down. You hummed around his length, confused and a little shocked. He choked on a moan when he felt the vibration of the hum, his body shuddering with the sensation.

"You're ok, sweet thing," he murmured, his voice hoarse with desire. "It's just me—fuckin' hell—m'sorry. Just can’t stop thinking about you." He took a moment to admire the sight of you, his cock buried deep in your throat, your eyes watering slightly. He pulled out, giving a sweet spank to the side of your thigh. "Scoot," he commanded, his voice firm but gentle. You stirred, pulling the blankets off of you fully, not arguing back. You scooted over, giving him room on your bed. He crawled in, his body pressing against yours as he manhandled you onto his lap, not giving you a chance to wake up fully.

He held his length against your tummy, his eyes admiring the size difference between you. His tip exceeded your belly button, and he swallowed hard, imagining it that deep inside you. "Simon," you finally started, your voice sleepy and soft. You wiped spit from your glistening lips, your eyes meeting his. "Sweetheart?" he answered, his voice a low rumble. "Couldn't you have waited till morning? I would've cleaned myself up a bit," you giggled, the sound so soft it hurt him. "I tried, I did—you looked so beautiful I couldn't," he explained, his voice filled with longing.

You nodded, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you rubbed the tiredness from your eyes. He pushed you back a bit, his free hand holding his cock, lining it up with you. He pulled you forward again, his tip pushing past your soft, tight, wet folds and fully submerged inside you. "So good to me," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. You lazily bounced up and down, slowly, your eyes fluttering closed as you felt his tip reach its stopping point inside you. He begged you to go faster, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. But you declined, your pace slow and steady, your body moving in a languid rhythm.

For you, this was cloud nine. You were sleepy, warm, and stuffed properly with Simon's thickness. But for him, this was torture. You were so tight and wet, and he was so pent up and desperate, it was killing him. He wanted to fuck, not have wholesome morning sex. "Sweetheart, you've gotta give me a little more," he pleaded, his voice hoarse with desire. You cut him off with a manicured hand to his mouth, halting your movements. "You woke me up and now you're complaining?" you furrowed your brows, your eyes meeting his. "No! No, you're doing so good—so fucking good, just—a bit faster? Please?" he practically begged, his body trembling with the effort of holding back.

"You do the work then," you smirked, closing your eyes as you laid on him, his cock still inside you while he bear-hugged you to him. He wasted no time, his hips bucking up as he fucked up into you, hard and fast. You inhaled sharply, a coo escaping your lips as you felt him hit that spot deep inside you. Your fingers trace the lines of his face as you stared into his side profile. His thrusts were wild and uncontrolled, his body slamming into yours with a force that made the bed shake.

Your moans and kisses to his ear nearly had him cumming 20 seconds in, but he held out, his body trembling with the effort. "Feels so good, Si," you whispered, your orgasm slowly rising. "Y’gotta cum for me soon, lovie," his breathing picked up, his thrusts becoming sloppy and uncontrolled. You could hear it in his voice he was trying to satisfy you first. "Gonna cum already, Riley? I thought you'd have more in you—big scary guy like you" you teased sweetly in his ear, your body trembling with the intense buildup of your own orgasm. "That smart mouth's gonna get you in trouble" he grunted, his fingers digging into your thighs before planting a harsh smack against your ass.

"I could say the same about waking up your roommate to throatfuck her at 2 am," you purred, your orgasm approaching faster. "Fuck, you're squeezing me, lass," you arched your back, his fingers digging into your sides to pull you closer if it were even possible. And without warning, you were full-body shaking against him as you cum around him. He took no time in burying his seed deep inside of you almost immediately after, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm.

warnings; simon riley au’s x fem!reader, established relationship for underground fighter!simon, hand kink, suggestive content, so minors do not interact!!!