#let Simon be in the middle

[bachusekart]

some band au doodles

[salemlinnet]

look.

700 followers and johnny gets tied up in a tent.

this is the first time i've been this impatient for any of the milestones. i'm always stoked but it's like "take your time guys i have 60 simon rileys in the same outfit to draw" this time i'm straight up just.

please, jesus, please give me the excuse to draw this. please i wanna draw this so bad, please i hope it moves up my priority list faster.

[cylin-aka-ankamo]

So.... does this "How dare he wrench Simon out of that headspace, invade his privacy by nearly seeing his face." mean, Price is gonna show Nik how to properly apologise to Simon? In whatever way you'd like to interpret "apologise" of course...

êuê eue êuê

Also, I know you said you nee to be in a certain mood, so no sweat, nothing here has an expiration date. I'm just a filthy enabler.

Okay not the same anon who gave the bottom Nik BUT the idea caught

Nik walks in on Price and Ghost one day. He knows they fuck, obviously, and it doesn't bother him. Price gets something different from Ghost than he does from Nik. And this is the first time Nik is seeing that in action. He means to leave and give them some privacy but Ghost is on his knees looking utterly desperate and Price's rough fingers are tilting his head back. The revelation of seeing the man who is usually oh so sweet beneath him on top and in control (and not the way he's used to seeing Price in control) may have started to unlock something within Nik that he didn't realise was there...

Anon, please don't think I have ignored this. I really haven't. It short-circuited my brain and I've got a longer piece planned for it, but I need to be in A Certain Frame of Mind to write Dom/sub in a way that doesn't put my own teeth on edge. (I love it, I love writing it, but it's like stretching before a match. Gotta be Focused, Pumped; brrr.) It's in the drafts.

Dom Price who is gonna ride that man's cock until he cries because how fuckin' dare he walk into his office without knocking. How dare he wrench Simon out of that headspace, invade his privacy by nearly seeing his face. Nik's place is at Price's feet at Simon's side. He needs to learn his place.

[blndspots]

you come home late, well after the sun has set, to an unassuming white envelope taped to your door. you hear a door close somewhere else on the floor, but whoever it was is already out of sight. the only thing on the envelope is your name, written in black ink. inside, is a single slip of paper, the same basic white as the envelope. on the paper, with the same script, in the same ink, are the words CORONADO PUBLIC PARK. EAST ENTRANCE. MIDNIGHT. underlined right below is the last word: ALONE.

the paper doesn’t crumple in her hand or set itself on fire to disappear into a cloud of smoke but she imagines it doing so anyway. it should. that would make more sense. instead, she stares at the words like they might rearrange themselves into something less ominous if she just squints hard enough. they don’t. of course they don’t. her fingers twitch. her jaw sets. then she turns, quick, sharp, practically running — hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever had the audacity to leave this on her door like it’s some kind of treasure hunt clue instead of an open invitation to get herself murdered. but by the time she throws the stairwell door open, it is empty. silent. of course it would be. back inside her apartment, she’s pacing. the clock ticks past eleven. a more reasonable person may have decided not to go. god knew what awaited her if she followed the mysterious meeting request. but this could be about her brother and thus, she’d already decided she needs to go as soon as she’d finished reading the note. she thinks about texting conrad first. the impulse is strong — stupidly strong — but she pushes it down just as fast. he wouldn’t let her go. not alone. not without a plan and at least one backup route. and she’d fold if he asked her not to go, if he insisted on tagging along. she knows she would. because it’s him. she thinks about leon next. it makes more sense — he’d understand the potential. the risk. the importance. but he’s already walking a fine line, pretending to behave while the whole world watches and she knows better than to test his limits with a cryptic text that might as well say 'help me commit treason' if the wrong set of eyes saw a notification from her on his phone. which leaves simone. smart, capable, a particularly useful skill set given the occasion and above all one of the most high-ranking names on the short list of people ariya trusts. her fingers hover over her phone for a moment before she types 'you don’t happen to be an insomniac by any chance? i could use you on standby tonight.' it’s vague. purposely so. it leaves room for denial on both ends and maybe that’s the safest way to play it. by the time midnight is about to hit, ariya’s already moving through the park — hood up, steps light, eyes sharp. the east entrance yawns open ahead of her like a question she’s too curious not to answer. she pauses just inside the tree line, suddenly and painfully aware of just how quiet it is. how empty. and just as suddenly, it seems a moment of clarity makes the blood in her veins turn ice cold. this is exactly how people get themselves killed. she glances over her shoulder once, then pulls her phone out again. this time, there’s no room left for subtlety. @simone-montgomery 'PARK, EAST GATE, RIGHT NOW. MAKE SURE NOBODY SEES YOU.' a beat of hesitation before she hits send, then another text that reads 'I’M SUPPOSED TO BE ALONE'. one breath in. one out. one last glance at the time on her screen. a minute to midnight. she pockets the phone and steps deeper into the dark, positioning herself right where her presence had been requested.

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

THE WAY I GENUINELY CAN NOT EVEN GUESS WHERE SIMON'S STORY ARC IS GONNA GO

[findafight]

Anyways. Get on my level. Top 2% of Bruce Springsteen listeners.

[saw-enthusiasttt]

1/1/24 & 1/3/24 // ig: @saw_enthusiast

let simon and lydia have nice moments for a change!!!! (i tell myself bc they’re my characters and i’m the one who tortures them)

[kkusuka]

pt. 2

your roommate was a strange man.

can you even really call him a roommate if he's only home for one week every few months? but when he is home, simon riley is a pretty good roommate.

he fixes the heater that's been broken for two months, he replaces the faucet after it drenches you for turning it on too quick, he even takes a look at your car when you mention how your breaks have been squeaking. but other than his penchant for whiskey and the color black, you really don't know much about the man you've been living with for more than a year.

he's in the military, you know that for sure. he works with a team because he tells you that you have a striking resemblance to a man names "soap"? you take that as a compliment even if he didn't really mean it to be one. he wears combat boots even when he's off, you buy him a pair for his birthday that he doesn't take off until soles wear out. but all of these are merely observations, you don't actually know anything about him.

and it's not like you don't try to find out more things about him. you search his name on google- nothing. you ask him about his social media- 'don't got any'. you never ask about family because he never brings them up. all you have is a phone number and the license plate on his beat up dodge charger.

so, getting a call in the middle of the night, three months after you'd last seen simon, about a mission taking a bad turn and simon taking a bullet for an american private. all you really manage to catch after that was the hospital's address and a room number to ask for.

you feel like you're in a trance as you pack yourself an overnight bag, then move to simon's room and just start grabbing the softest clothes you can find and a bunch of snacks from his side of the pantry, then you're off.

you didn't want to see desperate or overly worried about a man whose favorite song you don't know but you're pushing into the high 90s on your way down. and your mind isn't clear until you're standing in front of a tired looking nurse in sanrio scrubs.

"um, i need to get into room 1206?" you barely choke the words out before she's getting up to lead you, "oh! mrs. riley, they told me you were on your way."

"oh-i'm, well" and if you hadn't watch so many hospital shows where they don't let anyone but family into the room you would have just told her the truth, but you just shut your mouth, give her a tight smile, and follow her down the hallway.

the room doesn’t take long to get to, but the door is shut and you can hear the people inside talking. but the nurse doesn't even hesitate to swing the door wide open, "mr. riley, your wife is here."

and then there are four sets of eyes trained on you, but all you can look at is the hulking figure of your roommate sat up in his comically small hospital bed. and all you can muster up is a slight smile and a small wave in his direction before the bags you're holding fly straight onto the floor.

"oh, shoot- i'm sorry. i didn't know if you needed anything so i just grabbed some things from your dresser- and some of those granola bars you like, and there should be a gatorade somewhere in there. and, oh my god, i'm sorry, how are you? i came as soon as they called, and they said you got shot, and-"

"calm down, sweetheart, or yer gonna be the one that needs a hospital bed." ok, simon could still speak that was good, and he was conscious and remembered you.

"i'm sorry. i just got worried, and-" simon knew you well enough to know that you'll worry yourself to death if he lets you keep going, "nothin' to worry about, sweetheart, pull up a chair, you've 'ad stressful few hours."

you practically fell back into the chair that the man with the kindest brown eyes you've ever seen pushed towards you. and for the first time since you arrived, you took a deep, long breath. hand clasped in your lap as you take simon in.

"feeling any better, mrs. riley?"

"she's fine, garrick." 

'garrick' seems utterly unphased by your roommate's- husband's? you can address that later- tone and just continues to smile at you.

"c'mon simon, we just wannae ken 'bout the bonnie lass yer hidin' from yer pals. ye 'aven't even introduced us." you're glad the scot waited until you'd calmed down to start speaking because it took you at least 30 seconds to realize he was even talking about you.

"sweetheart these are the boys, boys this is sweetheart, now fuck off before you scare 'er away"

they didn’t seem like they were going to leave until the older man practically dragged them out saying something about the heaping loads of paperwork they had to do. so will a little wave and a cheeky smile, they were gone.

"so, um, ho-how are you feeling? they, uh, said that you got shot?"

" 'm fine, sweetheart, better knowing i've got a bird at home who'll come runnin' cause she thinks 'm hurt, yeah wife?"

yeah, maybe you'll let the mrs. riley thing go on for a little bit longer.

idk i just really like the idea of simon just picking someone random and being like 'yeah this is it, you're mine now' and they have literally no idea

[simonscumdump]

This might be a wild one.

But hear me out okay.

Simon has his hand somewhere intimate at all times whenever it’s the two of you together.

NOW okay stay with me…

At first, it was somewhat innocent. You’d both be watching a movie on the sofa, he’d deliberately have you lie across him just so his hand can rest on your ass. Casual couple things y’know.

But as your relationship progresses and he’s very used to being able to touch his pretty girl whenever possible…he tends to stray to more intimate places.

There would be one time, you’d be standing in the kitchen, cooking dinner for him on the rare occasion he gets to have a home cooked meal for once. And he’d stand behind you, humming some dumb song that’s been stuck in his head for days. But his hands will be on your tits.

Now, there’s nothing sexual about it really. He just likes holding them. Likes touching you. He’d probably give the occasional squish now and again because let’s face it he’s a man and they’d all do it.

But the only time his need to be touching you would turn sexual, is by complete accident.

(Hear me the fuck out okay?)

So you’d both be lying in bed, you’d be scrolling through your phone as he’s reading beside you (he reads, it’s obvious).

But his hand, would be down whatever pants or shorts you’re wearing for bed, underneath your underwear if you are wearing any at the time…and his hand would simply be resting on your cunt.

Like I said, it wouldn’t be sexual at first and it was an accident this time around.

Because this man can’t sit still at home, it’s too quiet…too calm…he needs something to do.

So what does he do? Play with your cunt.

The pad of his middle finger would idly rub up and down over your clit, not even trying to put any effort in all whilst he focuses on reading. Even if you’re there slightly squirming from the pleasure that the rhythmic motion of his finger creates, he wouldn’t really notice straight away.

He’d circle it a few times, all the while you’re trying to keep quiet as to not disturb him. Having to hold in every moan or soft sound your body aches to let out.

And for the most part, he seems completely focused. Even when his finger would slide down and gather every drop leaking out of you and bring it back to your clit just for more stimulation.

It’s only when you’re close to cumming from the lazy but constant stimulation that he’ll lean down slightly just to whisper in your ear.

“C’mon…give it to me love…please…”

He knows.

He always knows.

[shinoko-oshi]

Simon fixes your sleep schedule

Simon hadn’t realized just how fucked your sleep schedule was until he moved in with you. His birdie.

Waking up in the middle of the night or at the ass crack of dawn only to find you curled up on the couch, blanket wrapped around you, phone in hand, eyes barely open. Sometimes, you’d be watching a show, other times scrolling mindlessly, and on rare occasions, half-asleep but refusing to actually get up and go to bed.

And then, without fail, you’d spend the next day complaining about how tired you were. You’d drag yourself around the apartment, yawning every five minutes, rubbing at your eyes like a petulant child. And when he told you—plain and simple—that you needed to go to bed earlier, you had the nerve to roll your eyes at him.

“Okay, dad,” you’d say before walking away, completely ignoring his advice.

No amount of reasoning could convince you. If anything, the more he brought it up, the more stubborn you became.

So, Simon took matters into his own hands.

First, he switched out your usual tea for chamomile, hoping it would knock you out easier. Every night, he handed you your favorite mug, tea bag steeping inside, always a different flavor, something new to throw you off. Just in case you started getting suspicious.

You never noticed. Never questioned it. Just sipped at it, curled up in your blanket, completely oblivious.

Then came the melatonin sleep spray. He practically doused the corner of the couch where you always nested, soaking the blankets and pillows in the scent, ensuring that once you settled in, sleep would come whether you liked it or not.

And slowly, it started working.

You began dozing off earlier. The nights where he found you awake at ungodly hours became less frequent. You stopped yawning every other sentence. Stopped rubbing at your eyes like you were seconds away from passing out on your feet.

The dark circles under your eyes faded. Your complaints about exhaustion became fewer and farther between.

He never said anything about it. Never told you. Just watched in silent satisfaction as his plan worked.

But his favorite part? When you passed out on the couch instead of the bed.

Because that meant he got to pick you up, carry you to bed, and watch you sleep peacefully for a moment before pressing a kiss to your forehead and climbing in beside you.

It was selfish, really.

Because, sure, fixing your sleep schedule was technically for your health. But he couldn’t deny that he loved the way you curled into him when he slipped under the covers. The way you nuzzled into his chest, warm and pliant, letting out a soft sigh in your sleep as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer.

And, well better sleep also meant more cuddles.

And Simon loved that most of all.

Ik your sleep schedule is fucked. Go to bed.

[amaranthinespirit]

husband!simon riley who backs his wife's rights and wrongs cw: murder next

you fucked up. majorly, as you stared at the bloody body on your living room floor, red seaping into the grooves of the floorboards. you were frozen, perhaps it was shock as you watched the carnage seep into your nice rug that simon had bought you.

you ran your hands through your hair, only spreading the blood across your soft skin and threads of hair. how would you explain this to your husband? how would you hide this from your husband? how would you explain to him the rug, that you begged for, was suddenly not to your liking, because it had a massive splotch of someone's else's blood? no mistaking that for a period stain.

you were royally fucked, pacing back and forth, avoiding splatters of blood as you thought millions of plans in your head.

what if you dumped the body in the dumpster? no, the body would decompose far too quickly, and not to mention the smell. it's the middle of the fucking summer and hot as balls outside! okay, well, what if you stuffed the body in a suitcase and buried it? no, no, it was too big to fit in even your largest. oh, what if you cut him up? back up, that's even more blood that you'd have to deal with. plus, digging was never your thing.

all this time panicking left time wasted, and soon enough, your lovely, unsuspecting husband had pulled into the driveway. you shrieked to yourself as you peaked out the blinds, scrambling back to the body, but yet again, what the fuck could you do?

the front door opened and closed quickly after, the sounds of boots being kicked off and disposed as panic rose in your body. fuck, this was it. you were definitely going to jail, your husband will never trust you again, wouldn't even pay a visit. you could hear his voice calling, increasingly becoming more concerned without a response.

footsteps followed, and he appeared around the corner. his eyes landed on you, then the body, and then you, and then the body, and then—you get it. his eyes scanned your smooth skin for injury, narrowing at the blood before confirming it wasn't yours.

"wot have i told ya about makin' messes near yer precious rug, swee'eart?" he grunted, shrugging off his coat and tossing it to the couch, pulling you in by your hips, pressed against his front as a thumb swiped away a blood splat on your cheek, "y'okay?"

you looked at him dumbfounded, lips parted in shock as you stuttered, "y...yeah," you swallowed thickly, immediately moving to explain yourself, "but simon, i-"

"shhhh, don't say a word, pretty thin', I've got't." he coos lowly, petting your hair, rubbing the strands between the pads of his gloved fingers as he eyed the blood, "go take a shower 'n look all pretty f'me, yeah? can ya do'tha?"

your eyes darted around, but a firm grasp on your chin kept your attention to him. you swallowed thickly, meeting his eyes for the first time since he walked in, and nodded again. detaching from his side, you skidded down the hall to rid yourself of the dead man's blood.

after you disappeared into the bathroom, simon let out a deep sigh, "who the fuck is this?" he muttered gruffly to himself, shaking his head as he crouched near the body, tilting his head multiple ways as he examined further before shrugging it off, "wot'vr the missus wants."

yeah, he wouldn't question you. you wanted someone dead? had to be for a good reason, and he'll buy you a new rug after tossing that one. but he wouldn't tell you when the police dropped by about the disappearance of the man. don't wanna stress out the missus.

[succubusvalentine]

King Simon Riley choosing you as his bride. Part I CW : Fingering.

Simon had never been a patient man. He hated when people made him wait. He was just about ready to take his anger out on his guards, when a servant scurried into his office.

"She is ready and waiting in your chambers, Your Majesty"

Simon immediately stood, leaving without a word.

When he entered his chambers, he saw you looking around the large room, taking in your ornate surroundings. Donned in a long white nightgown. Far cleaner than you were when Simon first saw you.

"Do your new chambers meet your expectations?" Simon rumbled, and you spin around, brows furrowed as though you wanted to scoff and insult the King.

"Why was I forced into this? Is this some purity fetish?" You accuse, expression guarded. A royal would never be seen speaking the way you do. Simon loved it. His cock already beginning to chub in his trousers.

"'Course not, love. I had the servants put you in white because I thought it was the safest option to avoid putting you in a colour you dislike" Simon shrugged, noticing the twitch in your brow. You clearly hated that he was being kind to you. That he wasn't giving you a valid reason to lash out at him.

"Well...thats-you are still giving me no choice in marrying you. In being here!" You say, Simon chuckling at your outburst.

"You will cease your complaints soon enough" Simon hummed, reaching out and grasping your hip. His thumb rubbing circles over the fabric of your nightgown, crowding you against the lavish bed behind you. "You haven't ever felt fabric this soft against your skin, have you?"

You shook your head, finally sitting on the edge of the bed, gasping quietly when Simon lifts the nightgown. "Look at tha'" Simon chuckled, two of his thick fingers swiping through your folds. "Fucking soaked, aren't you?"

You bit the inside of your cheek, glaring up at Simon. Gasping as he slipped his index and middle finger inside of you. You tried your hardest to stay quiet, to not let the arrogant bastard know how good it felt for his fingers to pump in and out of your now soaked hole.

But you couldn't help the moan that ripped from your lungs when Simon curled his fingers to rub against your g-spot. Your head tilting back, brows furrowed in pleasure.

"Y'can't help yourself, can you? Don' you see how your life is going to be from now on? Pretty thighs trembling" Simon teased, your cunt clenching around his fingers. "Can feel you clenching, love. Come on my fingers, you can do it"

You whined loudly, hips rolling against Simons hand, you would have been embarrassed at the loud wet squelching that betrayed your want for the man. But it was impossible to feel embarrassed when you were so fucking close to coming.

You cried out as you came, the pleasure sparking every nerve in your body in a way you'd never experienced before. But the moment you recovered from your orgasm, you glared at Simon again.

He merely smirked at you, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his fingers clean. "You'll come around after I give you a few more orgasms like that, won't you?" Simon hummed, watching you sit up on your forearms.

"Like hell I will"

[hidingwhere]

John Prices wife coming to pick him up at the airport after he returns from a mission, but the car is now full of military men.

One look at the three boys, completely exhausted and pulling their phones out to book a taxi had your heart crying. Without thinking, you offered them all a lift to yours and Johns home for them to stay overnight.

So now there’s three men cramped onto your three backseats, John having the luxury of sitting in the front. Simon is on the end (still in his balaclava but luckily not the skull mask because you’d be a little creeped out seeing that every time in the rear view mirror), Johnny in the middle and then Kyle on the other end. Johnny complains for about 10 minutes that he’s squished in and has no room to move but after that he’s completely zonked out on Simons shoulder.

Your music plays quietly through the speakers and they’re happy to listen to anything that isn’t gun shots or explosions.

Once you arrive home, they all climb out the car, grabbing their bags from the boot and dumping them down in the living room.

“Place looks less lifeless than last time I was here,” comments Johnny.

“Finally got a woman’s touch to it,” adds Kyle.

You smile a little at the non-direct compliment. Price also looks around, noticing the little details that have changed or the things that have been added around his house, keeping a hand on your back. He leans down and kisses you gently, mumbling “I missed you” against your lips.

“I missed you too. But it looks like you’ve lost weight.” You glance down at his body. “I’ll fatten you up again,” you tease with a little giggle as he chuckles.

It’s around 9pm by the time you’ve cooked dinner for four people who have appetites of bears. They all look at you as if you’re an angel sent from heaven when they see the food, sitting down at the dining table silently and scoffing down the meal.

By 10pm, you go into the living room thinking they’re all watching TV but instead they’re all asleep. You grab some spare blankets from beside the sofa and cover them up except for John. You shake him awake and make him move upstairs into bed with you. There’s no way you’re letting him sleep on the sofa and not with you after weeks apart.

[babyybrii]

nsfw

Stalker Simon who shows up at your house in the middle of the night before letting himself in; he’s already made himself multiple copies of your house key. First, he watches you sleep, as always, towering over your bed silently. He takes a picture, needing to capture the way the moonlight peaks through the window and shines across your face.

Then, he shifts closer, the floorboard creaking under his boots. You don’t stir, he almost wishes you would—he likes it when your eyes go wide, when you start to tremble under his stare.

He reaches down slowly, gloved fingers softly brushing against your cheek. So soft. He wonders if you’d scream if you woke up now, or if you’d finally stop pretending you don’t want this.

He sets his phone down on your nightstand, camera still open—he likes to see the way you look from every angle. Likes having proof you’re his.

He takes the hem of your shirt between two fingers and lifts it up inch by inch, baring your skin to the cold air. He feels his cock twitch against the zipper of his pants. God, you’re perfect like this. Helpless. Waiting for him to do whatever he wants.

And he will.

Just not yet. Not like this.

He leans down, voice a low rasp against your ear—his breath hot on your skin, making you shift in your sleep.

“Next time, love,” he murmurs, gloved hand sliding under your shirt to cup your breast, his thumb circling your nipple until it peaks. He feels your body arch, soft and pliant, chasing his touch even without waking. His cock is throbbing now, and he has to grit his teeth to stop himself from taking you right there.

“Next time you’ll be awake for me.”

He forces himself to step back, but not before he picks up a scrap of lace from your hamper. Something to remember you by until he comes back.

part two part three part four part five

[rawme-price]

Ghost who has a really low sex drive but loves seeing soap have fun, versus reader who would look amazing under soap.

You met simon at the animal shelter, funny enough. He usually comes in to just sit with the dogs and let them climb all over him. You occasionally join him too, when you have the time, eventually becoming pretty close friends.

You learn hes got a husband who paints, a small house a bit outside of town, and quite a few pets of his own. You tell him abt ur life too, in the middle of regaling him with the fact you haven't had a good fuck in forever. Simon doesnt even glance up from where hes petting a goldens face, "y'wanna fuck johnny? You're his type."

You splutter for a good minute before finally asking if hes serious bc there's no way thats not a joke. But simon explains the whole thing, how johnny is insatiable and he doesnt really match that, but he likes to get johnny people to play with every now and then. You tentatively agree, remembering the photo you saw of johnny and knowing there's no way ur hand will satisfy if you dont find out what hes like.

Which leads you to the mactavish house. You expected them to get straight to it but johnny had cooked dinner, insisted on treating you properly beforehand, a really sweet guy. When dinners done simon takes u upstairs while johnny cleans, gets you set up for his husband.

Hes got you face down ass up on the mattress, working a dildo in and out of u, getting u nice and warmed up. When johnny does arrive? God its better than you imagined. He presses his whole weight into u, a hand at your nape and the other running along ur torso. The whole time hes chatting to simon between praises for you, telling his husband what a great find u were, how much he loves him.

All the while ur being fucked stupid, used and ruined in the perfect ways. Johnnys got you whining and babbling by the end, fucked out and limp with pleasure. While Johnnys cum is leaking out of u, him and simon share a loving kiss. You wonder if they'll invite you back...

[canyonmooncreations]

I can’t stop thinking about bratty princess reader x bodyguards 141

Something something your life is ruined now that your father has hired four broody body guards to be with you at all times. They usually rotate shifts, one staying with you at all times.

Sometimes events call for three of them or all of them. So when it’s time for a royal ball and three of them are needed, Simon opts to sit this one out in hopes to avoid the uncomfortable socialization.

After the ball, John stays at the palace with you and Kyle and Johnny join Simon back at their residence. Simon is absolutely baffled when the boys don’t shut up about how bratty you were and the major attitude adjustment you need.

Talking about how you refused to follow directions, even when they were for your safety. Refused to buckle up in the car and struggled so much that Johnny had to hold you down while Kyle buckled you up. Pouting the rest of the way home. Refused to eat dinner at the ball and insisted they stop at a drive through even though that wasn’t on your itinerary. Threatening to get them fired if they don’t take you.

The boys go on and on about your behavior and Simon just listens, dumbfounded.

“What’s that face for Riley? She even worse with you?” Johnny asks with a frustrated tone.

Simon shakes his head. “No attitude for me.”

The boys both start laughing. There’s no way that’s true. You’re truly a spoiled rotten brat, they think. There’s no way that he’s serious.

They never believe him until there’s an event that calls for all four of them. Simon’s with you at the palace while you get ready. The three boys pull up out front ready for you to join.

They watch as you walk nicely to the car and climb into the middle settling in next to Johnny. Simon climbs in after you. The boys are ready for the battle of asking you to buckle up.

“Buckle, princess” Simon grumbles.

“Yes, Mr. Riley.” The car goes silent. Johnny and Kyle look like their eyes are about to pop out of their head. John doesn’t miss the way your cheeks blushed red.

The car ride is silent. The boys are too shocked to say anything. Since when did you have manners and the ability to follow instructions? John drives with a grin on his face. Simon is unphased as you rest your head on his shoulder.

At the event, you are on your best behavior. You eat your food, move when instructed to move, and smile the whole time. The boys are genuinely so shocked at this new side of you. They watch in awe as Simon approaches you and the ever present feisty look is no where to be found.

“Ready to go?” Simon asks softly.

“Can we please stay a little longer?” You ask so kindly. Simon nods and finds his protective position.

“Did she just say please?” Johnny asked exasperated.

“She doesn’t even know what that word means!?!?” Kyle is just as shocked. John just chuckles and shakes his head.

They then watch as minutes pass and you gently tap Simon and tell him you are ready to leave.

When you get to the car, Johnny decides to put this to the test. Simon gets you in the car and closes the door to talk to the event staff before leaving.

“Buckle up sweetheart.” Johnny instructs.

You give him a polite nod and buckle up quickly. John lets out a chuckle and before Johnny can’t say anything before Simon is joining them in the car. “Bloody hell.” is all that is heard as the car falls silent.

On the way home, you lean over the Simon and ask if you could stop for ice cream. He replies with a simple “No, princess” and is met with no reaction from you. A slight nod and your head falls back against his shoulder.

Kyle is about to lose it. You threatening to get them fired if they didn’t take you through the drive through the other day. What the fuck has Simon done to you??

Something something and now it’s the end of the night. Simon has got you settled into bed and walks into the castle living room to review how tonight went with the security team.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Johnny and Kyle stare at him as if he’s accomplished the impossible.

“Told ya, no attitude with me.”

John chuckles and pats Simon on the back as he grins.

Masterlist

A/n: is this dumb?? It’s been eating my brain for a four hour car ride 😭😭