#fluffifyousquint

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Before Sunrise

retired!simonriley x gn!reader

imagine trying to keep up with retired simon’s sleep schedule (or lack of)

-

You and simon live in a small town with a comfy home to call your own. An attempt to at least try and give Simon a clean slate of some sort, but there's always remnants of the past. Late at night while you're curled into each other, he lays awake sometimes watching you or the ceiling, but always plagued with haunting thoughts escaping from his subconscious. He usually waits for you to roll over before he slips out of bed silently, not able to stand laying down helplessly in bed void of rest. He puts on his house shoes and makes his way to the porch, waiting for the sun to eventually rise and giving your outside set up some use. Sometimes he'll bring a cup of tea, or take the time to roll a few cigarettes, maybe pull out his pocket knife to mindlessly whittle a stick, but every time ends with him carrying you back to bed.

You eventually notice his disappearance and haphazardly throw on some sweatpants and drag your slippers across the floor as you make your way to the front door. He hears the door open and smiles to himself as he hears you hiss at the morning air, "It's cold out Si."

"I know" he responds, moving a pillow to the side, so you have room to sit.

"Gonna get sick" you sigh, still audibly tired, sitting next to him and letting your head drift to his shoulder.

"I'll be alright" he hums passing you his mug and draping his arm over your shoulder, letting the extra fabric hanging from his oversized sweatshirt cover you at an attempt to shield your goosebumped arms from the cold. You sip from his mug a few times before you pass it back to his off hand, the two of you silently enjoying the view from your front porch.

“It’s so pretty out here this time of-” you’re interrupted by a yawn that makes him glance down at you.

He scoffs out a laugh. “Should get back in bed” he suggests, knowing that you won’t, you never do.

“It’s okay. I’ll stay up with you, keep you company” you muse, trying to convince yourself that you’ll actually stay awake.

He’s amused listening to you try to talk yourself out of exhaustion, only humming low responses that eventually taper off the less you talk. Simon likes that you can find sleep so easily, it’s a comforting sign that you’re happy for a lack of better words.

Eventually he can feel the pressure of your head on his shoulder increase as the sound of your breathing changes and he knows you’ve fallen asleep without even looking down at you. It’s a routine he knows well, maneuvering with skill so that your head lulls inward towards his chest and his arms can support your back and the underside of your legs. He stands up and tries his best to gracefully open the front door to carry you bridal style through the house. You only make a brief mumble of complaint when he places you in bed, the cold of your abandoned sheets are a drastic difference compared to your heater of a husband. He tucks you back in and retraces his steps, neatly placing your fallen slippers together by the bed, bringing his mug in from outside, and locking the house back up. Usually around this time it’s easy for simon to get back in bed, even if he can’t sleep, he no longer feels restless. He lays back down, letting you roll back over into him at the sense of his presence. Simon tucks you tightly into his side and keeps his eyes closed until he feels you stir again in the morning, whether or not he actually went to sleep isn’t important.

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“We Buy Gold”- Barry x fem!Reader

: after breaking off your engagement you need a fresh start, but most importantly to get rid of the ring, luckily for you the owner of the nearest pawn shop is easy on the eyes.

pt 1. pt 2.

The bells on the door of Barry's pawn shop softly ring as you cautiously pull open the door. There was nobody in, but the open sign was on, and there was a half drunken drink and a fan oscillating near the register. You contemplate ringing the bell on the counter before the small collection of vinyls near it catch your attention, specifically the deep red jazz one. Your ex fiancé hated jazz, you missed the feeling of playing it out loud, making you realize you missed out a lot in the past years. You look below the register and there's stunning pieces of jewelry and you can't help but imagine the stories behind each piece and how it got there. You looked down at the jewelry in the display case, lost in thought until a deep voice clears behind you, "Can I help ya sweetheart?"

You turn around with a faint look of surprise on your face, slightly startled by the sudden appearance of who you assume works here. He stands pretty broad and tall, intimidating dark features with longer brown hair that curls into contradictory loose and soft curls. "Uh yes, please" you ask quietly as he rounds the counter, facing you. "I saw the sign" you tell him, gesturing to the gold for cash sign hanging in the window, "And I was wondering if you'd take this" you place your engagement ring on the counter, feeling hot under his heavy gaze.

He stares at you some more with a slightly raised eyebrow before looking down at the ring, and it dawns on you that your eyes are probably still tinted pink with damp lashes, being a dead giveaway that you had been crying not too long ago.

"You alright?" he asks glancing up at you again quickly before turning to rummage under the counter.

"I will be" you perk up, flashing him a tight lipped smile.

He nods as a response before holding up a tiny bottle, "You mind? It's a acid test, make sure it's real"

You shake your head, "No, go ahead" watching as he tests the jewelry. Nothing happens, but you almost wish the ring dissolved completely. It's probably cursed with the energy of your broken engagement and shouldn't be pawned off to some other poor soul.

He wipes it clean before speaking up. "Nice ring" he compliments, glancing up at you again, asking "You pawning it for the same reason you crying?" he lets the question sit in the air for a split second before following it up, "Just curious"

You look at him and his eyes are a bold brown that almost force you to tell this stranger the truth and nothing but it.

"Different reasons same shitty guy", you speak softer than before.

He shakes his head and sucks his teeth,"you're too pretty to cry" he mutters softly. "I'm sorry though, seems rough"

Your eyes flick back up to him at the comment but he's looking down at the ring, before you can let his words sink in.

"It's okay, he was liar. i'm happy to be done" you tell him with a pitiful smile, before chewing on your lip to stop yourself from tearing up.

"I know how to make you feel happier, I can give ya this for it." he says sliding a piece of paper over to you with a number sloppily written on it.

You read the number on the paper. you didn't know what to expect as a good price, but you didn't really care either, so you just nod "Yeah, whatever you want."

He unlocks the register and begins to count out what he owes you, "I'll throw in the vinyl too" he says casually, eyes focused on the bills to keep count.

His offer catches you by surprise, wondering how long had he'd been standing there to even know you were looking at the vinyls. He briefly looks up at you, waiting for a response. "I couldn't" is all you say confused and curious if you look so pitiful that you need handouts.

"We're in the cut princess, no one's listening to Larry Lovestein, just take it." he says pulling the vinyl out of the rack and sliding it over to you as he scoffs out a laugh, tapping on the register's screen in front of him.

"Then how do you know it?" you ask him, a smirk growing on your face, realizing he had named the vinyl without fully seeing it.

"Lucky guess" he mutters, before holding out your cash and receipt. "Happy?" he asks pushing his eyebrow up at you.

"Happy" you smile, taking everything from his hands that ghost over yours until the tips of his fingers lightly brush against yours, making him pause. "How rude of me, didn't even introduce myself. Barry, I own the shop." He lifts up a now empty hand towards you flashing a charming smile. It's then you realize suddenly how hot the guy behind the counter is and how you're mesmerized by his gold tooth that he flashes proudly as he smiles at you. You allow him to keep your hand in his, introducing yourself as well.

"It's nice meeting you, beautiful. should come by again if you need anything else you can't get off figure eight. I'll take care of ya" he lets go of your hand but leans in on the counter. His eye contact is unwavering as he moves closer to you. His eyes are dark and heavy, but when you look away and look down slightly, staring at his arms is almost even worse with the way they sit partially flexed on the counter. You feel no better than a man as you quickly flick your eyes back up to his. "Thanks, but you'll get tired of seeing me. I actually just moved down here, might need more vinyls for my place." you watch as his face contorts curiously. You already know what he's thinking, you've heard it from almost everyone who knew about your move after breaking off the engagement. You're not the most traditional resident on the cut, but you didn't care, you needed a new start.

"Well in that case since you're already over here" he smirks moving impossibly closer, "You know, I know a thing or two about putting up furniture."

"uh huh" you agree, smiling and amused by his offering.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, just about anything really. We should exchange numbers if you need a handyman, someone to cut your grass, or if you wanna go on a date?" You watch as he waits for a response and instead you reach over to grab the pen and paper he used earlier to write your number down instead. "I definitely need my grass cut soon" you tell him returning his smirk.

He turns the paper back towards himself and pretends to read it carefully, "Then i'll make sure to text you when i get off, so you can schedule landscaping, yeah?"

"yeah" you agree, nodding your head and matching his wide smile.

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Sprinkles - Simon RileyxGn!Reader

A blurb of asking Simon to use all his brain power to make you a snack

-

Simon Riley would quite literally take a bullet for you, give you his both his kidneys, shield your body from a moving car, even jump on a grenade for you, but please don't ask him to get you a snack while he's "already up."

Simon's the type of guy willing to just eat the wrapper stuck to something without bothering to fully pull it away from the packaging, while you're the type of person to use the oven or stand over the stove for a snack.

You'll tell him anything is fine and maybe you actually mean that, but he knows your standards for snacks are higher than his will ever be.

You peak over the couch, trying to gauge his reaction to your request and you make direct contact with simon who's frozen in place. "Please" you ask softly

"Wha' do ya want?" he grunts lowly

"Just some ice cream please"

He tilts his head at you as if asking you to continue "That's it" his eyes squint slightly and you roll yours, "Don't over think it Simon, You can't mess up ice cream"

Oh but he can. He wishes this was a case of purposeful incompetence. He steps two feet into the kitchen and is already drowning in choices of bowls and spoons.

He eventually comes back and hands you the bowl watching your facial expressions closely as you take it.

You smile up at him innocently, "It looks good, thanks baby"

He sits down next to you and resumes the movie. It hasn't even been three minutes in and he notices you stopped lifting your spoon, which is strange for someone who doesn't like melty ice cream.

"Whas' wrong" he grunts

"Nothin" you mumble

He lets you think you've gotten away with it, while you think he doesn't realize that you've slinked back off to the kitchen. He's not that damn interested in the movie that's playing. He hears the cabinets open and close "Knew it!" he says loud enough for you to hear. After a moment you come out of the kitchen with a guilty look on your face. "I forgot to tell you i bought more sprinkles." you mumble, sitting back down and tucking yourself into his side

"I would've put sprinkles in if ya told me" he sighed

"I know you would've, it's not a big deal Si"

"But-"

"Un uh, here" you hum at him lifting your spoon to his lips, urging him to taste and hoping he wouldn't finish his bite to continue arguing

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“No outside clothes on my bed” - Rafe Cameron

ExBf! Rafe Cameron x Gender-neutral! reader

Your ex shows up drunk at your door

warnings: mentions of relapse in sobriety, mentions of c0k3 use, mentions of drinking, explicit language

800 words - short fic

You were meant to stay far far away from your ex Rafe Cameron but when he's drunk at your door can you really turn him away?

You let him lean over you as you usher him towards your room, shushing him to hopefully keep your roommate asleep, and unknowing that you opened the door for your ex that you told her all about over a bottle of wine.

Once in your room you lay him down on the floor and take pillows off of your bed to keep him propped up on his side. You go to offer him a blanket, but his eyes are half closed as he begins to pout. It was endearing how he'd act all pouty and clingy while y'all were together, but just irritating now that he's your ex.

Somehow through that irritation your old feelings for Rafe were clawing at your insides. You harshly made him sleep away from you, but you still positioned yourself to where you could monitor him. You'd always worry about him dating or not.

You stare up at the ceiling, hoping to just try your best to get through the night as contradicting emotions pulse through your body and Rafe's presence making itself more than well known, even more so when he breaks the silence, "Can I sleep with you?" he asks, voice quiet and timid.

How could you possibly say no to him when he's in such a vulnerable state? Right? Instead you let that vulnerability fuel rejection, you can reason with yourself that he's not in his right mind, and that you need stay as far away from him as possible. "No outside clothes on my bed, you know that."

He doesn't respond right away and instead you hear him start to breathe unevenly with the occasional sniffle. You shoot up and look over at the ground, his back is facing towards you, "Rafe are you crying?" you whisper yell at him in shock.

"I'm so sorry. I'm drunk" he tries to whisper, holding back his tears, trying to hold onto any dignity he can be conscious of.

"I know" You sigh heavily and throw yourself back against your bed.

“And I'm in love with you” he mumbles quietly.

His words make you flinch, “Do not.”

“I miss you, I miss you so much, I'm miserable” his voice shakes and you shut your eyes to make his words hurt less.

“You broke up with me.” And you know why he did it too, the night he relapsed on coke he called you in a panic and confessed. You couldn’t even get a word in before he broke things off, assuming you were going to do it anyways. He was right to assume that you’d be upset about his relapse, but you didn’t know in what world he thought that you’d dump him at a low like that. You wanted to be there for him, you were going to be there for him, and he unknowingly pushed you away.

“I'm fucking stupid” he slurs out and begins to incoherently ramble.

“Get some sleep Rafe” you cut him off worried he’s about to choke on his tongue.

“I thought you’d hate me” he quietly whimpers, “That why I’m sober again” he breathes in a ragged breath before finishing his sentence “But I did drink tonight”

“I know you drank” You want to laugh at his obvious drunk confession, but instead make a confession of your own, “But I am proud of you for being clean again, always have been proud” Sarah and Rafe’s friends who grew close to you often updated you on how he was doing, so you already knew he had been strongly sober although going through the motions of grieving your relationship. His ego made him think sobriety would be linear, but you knew statistically he’d relapse and you were still genuinely proud of him.

“That’s all I wanted” his sad voice and new admission tugs at your heartstrings. All he wanted was just for someone to be proud of him, Rafe Cameron had been failed by everyone and was trying to pick up all the pieces by himself.

"Get in" You can see him sit up out of your peripheral vision, and he hesitates almost as if he thinks you’re joking. You lift up the comforter, making space for him and in almost an instant he’s up and clumsily stripping his clothes at an attempt to take off his outside clothes before jumping in your bed, hugging your waist with his head in your chest. His breathing slows down a lot more than before, but you can feel his tears soak into your top. They’re hot like his body, heated by the the alcohol in his system. You can feel him lift his head, but you just close your eyes, and rub circles into his back the way he loved “Well talk in the morning”

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Already Over- Simon Riley x Reader

loosely based off of the already over lyrics but instead of sabrina carpenter it’s reader and instead of ex’s it’s a fwb to lovers trope

(idk abt the ending yet so it might change🫣 )

#sfw #fluffifyousquint

-

You and simon have been talking for hours on hours about how you cannot keep talking for hours, or cuddling and kissing after sex. It seems ironic, but if you think about it the two of you haven’t really been talking for hours, you’ve been talking at him for hours about how you think you and him should just stay friends, a conversation the two of you have had before that never seems to stick.

He watches intently as you talk with worried eyebrows and fingers that never cease their anxious movements, nodding every now and then regardless of the fact that he doesn’t agree while you explain that you don’t think you can keep being friends with benefits and that the relationship has rapidly progressed from just being friends who have sex. Simon is more than aware that your friendship and its benefits strongly resemble a relationship, that was his intention when asking you about the arrangement in the first place. He knew he could make you fall for him the way he’d already fallen for you if he could just get an in somewhere and now he feels kind of guilty seeing the anxiety it’s caused you as you admit that you’re beginning to develop stronger feelings and apologize, telling him that you admit total fault. You end your rant by sighing, “I say all that to say I think we’d probably be better off as friends.” You look up at him expectingly, maybe anticipating annoyance or even anger, but it never comes. He looks down at you with an expression that you can’t exactly read and just nods. “I hear you” he says gently, watching as you sigh softly out of relief. “Okay, thank you. I’ll see you later then?” you ask going in to hug him.

“Yeah later” he agrees leaning down and reciprocating your hug, it’s when you go to separate from him that in one smooth motion he catches your lips in a kiss, similar to the ones you’ve shared hundreds of times before he leaves your place that usually come mindlessly. You barely even register it as you kiss him back, softly humming against his lips before he breaks the kiss and you turn to walk towards the door. You start to walk before wiping the dazed smile off your face, “Wait Simon no” You stop dead in your tracks, turning around to look at him. his eyebrows are raised while he walks closer to you, his hand resting on your hip, waiting for you to say something. A thousand thoughts run through your head at once, knowing that no matter how you change your mind it’ll always be on him. For a second the two of you just look at each other before you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, “Im serious this time. We can’t do that, did you not hear me?”

“Y’wanna just be friends because you caught feelings?” He asks, pulling you closer to him as you let him.

“Yeah?” you quietly answer, caught extremely off guard by his actions, suddenly feeling the spotlight on you casted by his eyes on yours.

“Love, I started this whole thing with feelings for you, now we’re on the same page”