maryangelex

[maryangelex]

Army Dreamer

Regency AU! Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

cw: time period inaccuracy, arranged marriage, soft Simon Riley, female reader

a/n: I am so so rusty so forgive me but I had to get this out of my system!!!

You had been a debutante for the past year without a successful match. It was for no lack of trying on your suitor’s behalf, in a way you felt sorry for them wasting their time trying to woo you. No amount of riches or eloquent poetry could get you to budge. You were too resilient, too headstrong, too boorish and too hard to tame. It wasn’t for a lack of beauty either; men flocked to you and begged for you to agree to marry them based on your looks alone, something that docked their points even more in your perception of them. But with this unsuccessful year your mother had had enough. Your poor mother, watching all of your sisters find a perfect chap to take care of them, to guarantee they would never spend a day of their life with the worry of money, who were guaranteed to be pampered mothers to these men’s heirs. One by one of your sisters, it ended up with just you with no prospects and your mother had not had a moment of resent since your youngest and last sister had become engaged while your hand stayed unspoken for.

It left her no choice but to set up an arrangement to be wed to the next man she deemed fit enough for you. No matter how much you sobbed, how much you begged or retaliated, your attempts to run away resulting in nothing but failure, you were to be wed no matter what, when, or to who.

Your mother had bulled some strings with your father’s friend, Lord Price, to help her find a man honest and wealthy enough to at the very least not toss you to some miserable hound. Lord Price was a kind, righteous man of good judgement of whom to make connections with.

That’s how your mother was introduced to Lord Simon Riley, Price’s right hand man in the military and in his investments. He was second to have hit the jackpot in terms of the investments they had made after their military service, making arguably better well off than many of your sisters’ husbands and fiancés. It made him a very prominent suitor, coveted by many. But what kept him unmarried was his dark history; a man of a past life of great violence, during and before his time in the military his hands had been dirtied with blood.

He was surrounded by rumors, who knows how true or how exaggerated; his quietness and obscure demeanor didn’t help his case much. But alas, your mother’s desperation had reached a breaking point, and if Price trusted this man then she might as well take his word for it, maybe in her mind she hoped a man like Lord Riley would tame her daughter.

Your energy had been wasted on heedless kicking and screaming, and having no other option you reluctantly met the man. The two men had been invited by your mother to your now desolate home. You missed your sisters, their laughter and squeals were now a distant memory haunting the house. It was quiet, dreadfully so, and you had none of their shoulders to cry on anymore. As you sat in your living room, the sound of your mother and the older man’s cordial conversations muffled in your state of emptiness, you quietly cried. Your tears smudging the light rouge that painted your cheeks, your chests faltering as you tried to take deep breaths and calm yourself, and the feeling of the weight of someone’s eyes on your inconsolable frame.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by your mother calling your name.

“My dear don’t you forget your manners, now, Lord Riley has come a long way to meet you,” she said to you through gritted teeth, fanning herself with exasperation. She turned to Price with a smile filled with hypocrisy, “Lord Price, what do you say we leave the new couple to, erm, acquaint themselves with one another, yes?”

Before the man could respond she had her arm hooked on his, scrambling to drag him out of the room. You had looked up from your distant gaze and snapped back to the present predicament, and with shaky hands you dabbed the tears from your cheeks, making an effort to blend your rouge and save your complexion.

Your back straightened, adjusting your posture in your seat before turning to look at Lord Riley, forcing a polite smile.

All this time you hadn’t taken the effort to look at the man in the eyes till now. Your gaze met his face, looking into his honey brown eyes. They were kind, warm, yet with a deep hidden sadness in them; eyes that have most definitely seen more than what your naivety and innocence could fathom.

You scanned his face, impossible to miss the scars that swept across his face. His angular, long face was decorated with a scar crossing his eyebrow with a trace under his eye and atop his high cheekbone, another that chipped at his upper lip, and a third one that cut across his angular, chiseled jaw. The man was intimidating, another probable factor to why he was yet to be wed. His appearance didn’t lack the ability to strike fear, yet he had a certain unconventional beauty to him.

You noticed the slight crook on his nose how it added character to his face, the pale lashes that feathered his eyes, rosy lips that parted and indicated his own nervousness. You scanned down his frame, tall like a revered statue and bigger than any man you’d come across. His sand colored hair was tussled yet groomed, his suit tailored, and his fingers lightly fidgeted with each other in his left hand. He stood there poised and mannered.

“P-Please,” you began, “Have a seat, Lord Riley.” You gestured towards the sofa across you, allowing the man the command to take a seat and break out of his etiquete. He was a military man after all, accustomed to taking orders and executing them effectively, so he complied and took a seat across from you.

The room fell silent again as you sat across each other. His gaze adverted from yours, preferring to focus on the floor, pensively. You watched as his hands played with a little black box. You didn’t question it, your mind was rather blank and in shock that this would be the beginning of the end, that you’d be betrothed to this man whom you’re meeting for the first time, whom you haven’t exchanged any words with, whom has a past filled with death and darkness and mystery, whom—

He cleared his throat before addressing you, “I know this isn’t the most ideal situation,” he began, “n’ I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors and stories that surround my reputation.”

You tried to interject, to feign politeness and ignorance but he continued.

”Your mother has already made an arrangement with me and she’s given me your hand in marriage. ‘M no easy man, m’not the prettiest lookin’ bloke either but,” he held your eyes with his, “‘M a man who believes in fairness, so, I feel like s’only fair I ask you m’self.”

The click of the wooden box snapped your eyes to his hands and you saw as he presented to you an engagement ring. It was ornate and silver, embellished with twinkling stones circling a precious diamond in the velvet box. Your breath hitched and your mouth went dry, you couldn’t think of any words to say.

“I’m a man who keeps his word, n’ I promise you, my lady, to give you a good life, at the very least an easy one.” He breathed, “I won’t force you into nothin’ you don’t approve of, if what you want is just a companion—a friend and a secure future, s’what I’ll give you…” he paused and cleared his throat once more, mumbling something in his deep tone, unintelligible, as he held out the box to you.

“All of you is to give me a chance to be a good man to you so, will you grant me that opportunity, duchess?”

A man of his size and character, with a baritone voice rough like gravel gave you the softest look in his eyes and an attempt at making you feel the most in control you could be in your situation. He offered you a chance to agree to his proposal, to offer you some normalcy in this forced arrangement. You pondered for a moment the scene you caught yourself in, feeling like you had been holding your breath for the last whole minute, your cheeks and chest flushed hot, your words caught up in your throat.

You thought to yourself, Maybe only a kind man can give me at least the illusion of a choice.

You reached out and hesitantly took the box from his outstretched hand, your supple fingers brushing against his calloused ones. As you held the box you contemplated the ring. For once you felt what you could best describe as hope, maybe even relief, maybe curiosity for what your life was about to look like.

You looked at the man before you, your eyes welling with tears because you knew no matter your words your fate remained the same, but you knew giving him an answer would at least alleviate you, maybe even alleviate him to know that you’d be willing to give him a chance without reluctance, give him a man like him a chance compared to the other ones that had walked in and out of your door this last year.

“I accept your offer, Lord Riley….thank you” you finally said despite the dryness in your mouth, the weightiness of your tongue, as you gave him a sad smile.

[maryangelex]

Simon Riley cumming in his boxers cus he got too eager grinding on the mattress while eating you out :/

[maryangelex]

Help all I can think about is Simon and bimbo!mail-order-bride!reader

[maryangelex]

simon riley with a Scouser girlfriend

that’s all

[maryangelex]

thinking about medieval AU with princess!reader and her betrothed duke!ghost.

he earned his way into king price’s court by being his best warrior, his right hand man. And now your mother, the queen has arranged for you to be married to gain protection from the king and his court of fearsome warriors. It just so happens that the one you’re arranged to be married is the rather infamous Ghost, whose identity is unknown due to the armored skull mask he wears all the time, and he’s only known for being ruthless in the battlefield and a man of few words; a man who communicates with his sword and fists.

the first time you’re introduced to him your tears are staining your hot-red cheeks. the last time you were set to be married you had made yourself known as a runaway bride for running out into the field clad in your wedding gown, tearing piece by piece off yourself until you were left in your undergarments because you’d rather freeze to death in the wild than be married off to an old pot-bellied brute. and now you were expecting the same as you sat across him at the grand table, with his eyes glued to you through his mask.

but once you were adjourned and the arrangement was settled, before you could run off to your chambers and plan your escape, ghost’s hulking form stood next to you in your seat, a hand reached out to you wordlessly offering you a handkerchief. you stared at the small piece of fabric puzzled, choking back your sobs, and you glanced up to meet his indiscernible gaze. all he did was nudged it at you insisting for you to take it, so you did with a small thank you and dabbed your tears. before you could give it back to him he was out the door.

you thumbed at the supple fabric of the handkerchief, tracing the embroidered “S.R.” on it. You decided you wouldn’t escape this very night.

[maryangelex]

gonna put part 3 of this right here because it’s short and sweet but…

loser!reader who’s been working for a solid few months at the office and who’s become accustomed to ghost’s daily visits, still blocking out the likelihood of ghost making the extra effort to come see you nearly every day. you’ve become used to his towering form that feels like an acrid cloud of black smoke whenever he comes near your bureau. used to the huskiness of his voice when he gives you the occasional greeting or the very dry indication for his visit (more like excuse, which is always for price). but ghost has more tricks up his sleeve, noting that you remain oblivious to his advances. his unfinished work escalated to little notes on the front page when you open the folder he hands you. nothing explicit, just cryptic little jokes that make you knit your brow in confusion the first time he gives you one. when you raise your eyes up to question him, though, he’s already gone with no explanation. the first note read:

Don't challenge Death to a pillow fight. Unless you're prepared for the reaper cushions.

and once the confusion passed you were a mess of cackles smothered by your hand. from that day on, the notes continued, each day the jokes were somehow worse, and you looked forward to each one. you greeted ghost with your usual shyness, now accompanied with a friendly, red-cheeked smile and thinking to yourself that maybe he wasn’t as scary as he looked, and maybe this was his attempt at letting you know that.

it became your usual routine, except for a peculiar note you received from him with a simple question written on it:

dinner?

Part 2 of assistant!reader

(or loser!reader but I feel bad lol lmk which you prefer) since you guys loved it so much!

assistant!reader who is shellshocked by the sight of the large masked man who said no words to her but a muffled grunt on her first day on the job.

not to discredit the other 2 boys but you get along the best with your (very gentlemanly and handsome) captain, and when he asks you about how your first day went and you tell him about the “big man with the mask”, all he does is chuckle and tell you how he’s his best man on the team and not to be fooled by his appearance. but of course that’s hard for you to believe.

on your second week working there you see Johnny and Kyle again when they pass by to give their weekly reports and that’s just as much as you see of them unless they’re meeting with price. but you can’t say the same about “Ghost”, who comes in during the middle of the week to drop off the file containing his report but…it’s nowhere near complete. where are the remaining 15 pages of this thing?! You’d think the “best man” would know better than to leave his work unfinished.

the next day he’s dropping off another 5 pages continuous of the first few he gave you the day before. you huff when he turns on his heel and walks away without a word again, just silently hands you the folder and carries on his day. and the same happens the day after that and the one after that also until bit by bit the report is complete.

you’re on your third week working there and ghost carries on his daily routine of incomplete reports, now adds a courteous “give you the next one tomorrow” and it’s the first time you hear his low, baritone voice that makes your face hot, but doesn’t stop you from being annoyed. doesn’t he know it’s much easier to get it all done at once rather than turn in every 5 pages and have to…come back…every day…? wait…

just then it dawns on you that maybe he’s not stupid, maybe he knows exactly what he’s doing. but you don’t have it in you to really believe he’d make that effort to just see you. That’s ridiculous! You?! Of course not… so you push the thought to the back of your mind, and ghost continues his charade.

and all he can think of is how he looks forward to seeing your face even if it means being facetious with his work.

[maryangelex]

Part 2 of assistant!reader

(or loser!reader but I feel bad lol lmk which you prefer) since you guys loved it so much!

assistant!reader who is shellshocked by the sight of the large masked man who said no words to her but a muffled grunt on her first day on the job.

not to discredit the other 2 boys but you get along the best with your (very gentlemanly and handsome) captain, and when he asks you about how your first day went and you tell him about the “big man with the mask”, all he does is chuckle and tell you how he’s his best man on the team and not to be fooled by his appearance. but of course that’s hard for you to believe.

on your second week working there you see Johnny and Kyle again when they pass by to give their weekly reports and that’s just as much as you see of them unless they’re meeting with price. but you can’t say the same about “Ghost”, who comes in during the middle of the week to drop off the file containing his report but…it’s nowhere near complete. where are the remaining 15 pages of this thing?! You’d think the “best man” would know better than to leave his work unfinished.

the next day he’s dropping off another 5 pages continuous of the first few he gave you the day before. you huff when he turns on his heel and walks away without a word again, just silently hands you the folder and carries on his day. and the same happens the day after that and the one after that also until bit by bit the report is complete.

you’re on your third week working there and ghost carries on his daily routine of incomplete reports, now adds a courteous “give you the next one tomorrow” and it’s the first time you hear his low, baritone voice that makes your face hot, but doesn’t stop you from being annoyed. doesn’t he know it’s much easier to get it all done at once rather than turn in every 5 pages and have to…come back…every day…? wait…

just then it dawns on you that maybe he’s not stupid, maybe he knows exactly what he’s doing. but you don’t have it in you to really believe he’d make that effort to just see you. That’s ridiculous! You?! Of course not… so you push the thought to the back of your mind, and ghost continues his charade.

and all he can think of is how he looks forward to seeing your face even if it means being facetious with his work.

[maryangelex]

loser!reader x simon riley

loser!reader who’s hired by lasswel to help price with the immense amount of paperwork that he never gets to. who’s assigned to sit pretty at the beaten desk outside of his office. but I like the idea of reader not being the typical “sexy assistant” but more like loser girl frumpy sweater and thick rimmed glasses type of assistant who still gets these Kyle and Johnny riled up working extra hard and making dorks out of themselves trying to woo you but you’re just too oblivious to men’s advances. not simon though, he’s the one that’s the most awkward yet somehow effective? you get hired and on your first day, as you acclimate to your office with your matching pastel supplies that you so delicately organize across your desk to give this t-filled office a feminine touch, one by one the boys drop off their report files at your desk to be revised and handed over to price. the first one’s Kyle, who showers you in compliments that go way over your head, “sargeant Garrick sure is polite!” Is all you really think of it; kinda frustrating for him. the next one coming over is Johnny, who hands you his files with his eyes eating you up like you’re a bar of chocolate. Johnny makes you feel um, intimidated? it’s the way he’s got that look in his eyes that feels like he’ll eat you whole, like he’s got X-ray vision staring right through that bulky knitted sweater. It makes your cheeks turn beet red in embarrassment when he makes comments and one-liners to get you worked up. the last one to visit your desk that first day caught you off-guard. while you were turned around alphabetizing the manila folders in the file cabinet behind you, you turned around to the large apparition of a skull-faced man that might as well have been a hallucination because 2 seconds ago he was not there and a man that size should be impossible to go unnoticed. your heart jumps and gets caught in your throat when you turn around and see him; dark and massive and the only visible human feature in him are the dark brown eyes behind that mask. you greet him politely through a stutter as you return to your seat, and all he responds with is an extended arm with the reports in hand. you mutter a thank you, your throat constricted, and what you get in return is a grunt before he turns on his heels and disappears down the hallway.

you’re scared shitless of that man on your very first day.

little did you know, simon’s face under the mask was scarlet red and flushed hot the second he saw your innocent glimmering eyes behind your skewed frames, making him unable to get a word out and having no other option but to retreat.

[maryangelex]

the greek class are my inside out emotions

[maryangelex]

*picture me levitating off a coffin and looking like nosferatu*

simon riley is just a big awkward softie in the body of a brute. he can’t even think straight the moment his cock fills up at the sight of you and just lets his brain be dictated by it (dicktated, if you will). so it’s just in his nature to not even know how to approach you, he just corrals you against the nearest wall and dives tongue-first into your mouth with big clumsy paws cupping your face and grabbing every soft bit of your body like he’s kneading clay.

and yeah his nose is smooshed against yours, yeah his cock is pulsating against you, and yeah a whimper escapes his lips because this man is just so eager (whipped) he can’t contain himself

but I digress…

[maryangelex]

“Ur cod fics aren’t accurate to what the actual military is like”

I’m writing about how I wanna have sex with men who don’t exist and ur reading it. This should be the least of your worries.

[maryangelex]

put those big brown eyes away dude now is NOT the time

[maryangelex]

Came back from hiatus just to say this is what Simon sounds like after too many drinks with the 141 lads

[maryangelex]

I’m not dead!! I’m just on Zoloft!!! And I don’t know when I’ll be posting again but hopefully soon!!!

sorry to everyone for the disappearance :,)

[maryangelex]

inspired by boop day, reblog this post if its ok for people to send you random asks and interact on your posts with no judgement. i want to talk to people.

[maryangelex]

therapist: lubed up Gaz is not real, he can’t make you horny

lubed up Gaz:

From Elliot Knight IG page

Photographer : Ryan Pfluger

[maryangelex]

okay but brother’s best friend!Simon, let’s discuss…