Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner And A Midnight Snack
Non-Descript!G/n!Reader x Simon'Ghost'Riley
A/N: This was me maybe 10 minutes ago. Pain. (Please let me know if I’ve missed any triggers). (Not proof read btw).
Summary: Reader gets a fuck load of mosquito bites.
❗️CW ❗️: Reader being allergic to mosquito bites, soft Simon, non sexual nudity, reader cries, Simon's just in love.
Do not copy, translate, transfer (plagiarise) or take 'inspiration' from any of my fics.
You emerge from the steamy bathroom in your underwear and one of Simons oversized t-shirts that came about mid-thigh, you stride hurriedly to the medicine cabinet with a pained whimper falling from your lips.
"Lovie?"
You whirl around with tears in your eyes and a frustrated pout adorning your features to find Simon on the couch reading a book under a lamp with his eyes trained on you. "Si," you cry softly as you take a couple of quick steps to reach him, ignoring his obvious concern you bury your face into his neck.
His scent is comforting as you cry even though it's faintly laced with gunpowder and dust. He wraps his arms around you and engulfs your form with his own. "wha's the ma’er?" He asks gently, cradling you to the best of his ability.
You shake your head and pull your face away from his neck so he can hear you properly, "I thought you got back next week?"
"The mission wa’ comple’ed sooner than anticipa’ed n’ Price said I di’n’t ‘ave t’ stick ‘round f’r much paper work," he says as he studies your face for any further distress. He brushes strands of hair out of your face.
You nod before unconsciously bringing a hand up to your cheek to scratch the angry red bumps on your skin.
"Wha's tha’?" Simon's accent grows noticeably thicker as his frown deepens, gently holding your wrist and bringing your hand down to your side.
He wordlessly places you on the couch next to him before getting up and turning on the light. You squint as your eyes adjust and let Simon tilt your head to the side to get a better look at your cheek.
"Oh, lovie... When di’ this ‘appen?" His soft eyes find yours, holding both your hands in his own to prevent you from scratching any where.
"I don't know," you whine as your bottom lip trembles. Everything felt so painfully itchy you were struggling to think or focus on anything else.
"'s alrigh’, stay righ’ there f'me," he cradles your face and kisses your nose before moving away to find something to soothe your mosquito bites.
A few minutes later he come back to find you lying down and squirming uncomfortably, trying to find any sort of relief.
"Up" he murmurs, he wastes no time in wiping away your tears and placing a kiss on each eye lid before squeezing some balm onto his large finger and spreading it smoothly onto your cheek.
"Where else?" He asks, sitting on the couch and guiding you to stand between his legs.
You take off your shirt, not needing to point out the red lumps.
He works patiently, holding your hands when you get a sudden urge to itch everywhere.
"There y’ go," he smiles as he finishes applying the last of the balm onto your back. "Thank you, Si. I'm sorry you had to come home to this, everything's a mess," you say bashfully as you turn to face him.
Your hands find purchase on his shoulders and nape, playing with the soft blonde locks. "Don' worry 'bout i’," he whispers against your stomach, resting his hands on your thighs while carefully avoiding the bites, he places kiss after kiss on the soft skin of your belly.
"Love ya, darlin,'" his eyes are closed as he enjoys simply existing with you.
"I love you more," one of your hands moving up to play with his hair and give him a bit of a head massage.
He hums contentedly, "gotta pu’ more o’ tha' mosqui’o stuff on the shoppin’ list, my poor baby, those mosqui’os ‘ad you f’r breakfast, lunch, dinner ‘nd a midnigh’ snack."
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mosquitos must feel so smug whenever they successfully bite someone. i bet they're just laughing to themselves, rubbing their little hands together. the smug bastards
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