thoughts on simon’s tattoos since nobody asked:
→ it cant rain all the time, written in cursive,
→ your beautiful eyes on his sternum, just below his collarbones.
you’d laughed when you first saw it. “zayn, is that you?”
“who?”
“no one, baby, don’t worry.” you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer to your lips. “it’s beautiful.”
he pressed his lips to yours for a brief second before pulling away. “whos zane?”
“zayn, si.” you rolled your eyes with a smirk. “the singer?”
“the one who used t’be in tha’ stupid boyband?” he tilted his head to the side like a curious animal.
you gasped. “don’t you dare call one direction stupid in my presence, riley!”
“but they were stupid. didn’t they break up and kept people on their toes for years too?”
“i’m still being kept on my toes.” you chuckled, hiding your face in the crook of his neck and kissing the soft skin, breathing him all in.
→ or or or?? your eyes just behind his neck “‘cause ya always have my back”
→ your bite mark on his left pec
“bite as hard as ya can, love.” simon instructed.
“are you sure?” you shyly asked, eying the tattoo artist, who was getting the machine and ink ready.
“i am.” he pushed a lock of hair behind your ear, looking up at you from the chair, pupils dilating as they stopped for a second on your lips.
“i don't wanna hurt you…”
worry filled your eyes, he could read right through them.
“you wont hurt me love.”
you sighed and leaned down, looking up at him and kissing his chest before biting his skin through a plastic sheet. tilting your head to the side, you closed your eyes and waited for his hand to guide your head away.
“how’s that?”
simon kissed your forehead before patting your thigh and you got up from his. “perfect, love.”
→ your kiss stamp on his neck, where you'd always kiss and bite at. “shoulda added some fangs.” he grunted, eyes avoiding yours.
your hands guided his face to yours. “shut up and give me a kiss riley.”
your whisper was enough to drive him crazy, hands automatically finding their place on your waist, squeezing once. “yes ma’am.”
→ simon riley is so full of tattoos you didn't know he had any bare skin left on his body before he showed you his new addition to the collection.
whether its your initials, your kiss mark or the mark your teeth left on his skin, he’ll find a way to squeeze something of yours on his body. he was your canvas to use, he would've offered himself to you to the very last atom of his being.
“whats this?”
“your initials.”
“yes, i can see that, baby, but…” you grabbed his ring finger and examined it closer. "why here?"
“we’re married to me.”
“then where’s the ring, riley?” you grinned, leaning back on the sofa, arms crossed across your chest.
“ya wait an’ see.”
you laughed at it at the time, not expecting him to be serious. he’d always joked about marrying you, calling you his wife in front of everyone, even introducing you as such from time to time, you’d grown used to it. to a joke, right? you knew he’d been serious about it all along when he silently slipped the diamond ring on your finger as you stared at him in shock.
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