#simon riley fluff imagine

[ellemaru]

"I Like Your Bike"

Biker!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem Reader

Summary: On your way back to the hotel with friends, a shiny black motorcycle that belongs to a mysterious serviceman catches your attention.

Word Count: 1,289 Cw | Mentions of alcohol and intoxication

A/N: The character is implied to be black, but you can imagine them however you like !

Drunken laughter mingled with the sounds of other chatter on the bustling street as you walked with your 2 girlfriends and talked with each other, recapping your first day in Manchester, England, and the first out of many stops on the two-month-long trip in Europe. Your heels had become uncomfortable long ago, making you ever so grateful that you had been smart enough to think to bring a pair of flats along as you indulged in Manchester’s nightlife. The group had barhopped and chatted with strangers all night, getting the full Manchester experience as everyone explored the city and took in the views.

As the group neared their hotel, something shiny appeared in the corner of your eye, causing you to slow down your walking speed, the swinging heels in your hand slowing down as your strides did. Your brown eyes narrowed slightly as you tried to make out what the thing was, struggling due to the fact that it was night and you were nearsighted. As you tapped your friend’s shoulder and began to walk toward the unknown object, your eyes adjusted slightly, realizing it was a motorcycle, one of the nice, slick, black ones.

You mindlessly began to run your hand along the smooth and shiny exterior of the motorcycle until a voice popped you out of the trance.

“Mate, you can’t just touch random people's bikes,” 

When you looked up, you were met with a brick wall in the form of a man. He stood around 6’3 and was obviously jacked based on the way his compression shirt hugged his pectoral muscles and biceps. His bright hazel eyes practically had you hooked already, was it the alcohol, or were they that pretty? No one knows, but you did know that this guy was HOT.

“Uhhh, I um,” you giggled and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear before remembering that 

You are NOT Debby Ryan and you are NOT on Radio Rebel

You forgot to lay the lace down again by your ear when you installed your wig earlier

The man cocked an eyebrow as he looked down at you, the action slightly concealed by the black balaclava he wore that had a skull print on it, an interesting choice considering the heat.

“Are you not hot in that mask?”

“Did you not notice your friends aren’t here anymore?” he replied with a teasing tone. 

When you turn around, you see that your friends have indeed left you with the mysterious man and continued on to their hotel.

“Lass, I think you need some better friends,” he let out a quick chuckle, like…the personification of haha.

“Your laugh is funny,” you giggle as you lean in closer to him, looking at the metal tags that hang around his neck. 

“Simon Riley,” you read his name slowly as you looked up, tilting your head to the side slightly, wondering if it was actually his name or if he was wearing a deceased relative's dog tags. He nodded as he looked back down at the smaller woman. They sat in silence for several awkward moments before you decided to break the silence.

“I like your bike,”

“Thanks,” annnnd it was back to silence again

“You don’t talk much,”

“Not much to talk about with a random drunk lass I’ve met,”

“Fair point…What kind of bike is that?” that question was all you needed to get Simon’s attention.

That one question led to a whole conversation as he explained the ins and outs of his bike which was apparently a Yamaha R1 but other than that, he was fluent in yapping. The only thing you were focused on was his deep voice, thick British accent, and the way his compression shirt hugged all the right places on his torso. It seemed he didn’t even notice that you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes, mainly due to the fact that you had drunk way too much earlier. 

“Wanna go for a ride?” he asked you as he leaned against his bike.

The first thing that ran through your mind was “What kind of ride”.

“Huh?”

“I asked do you want to ride my motorcycle with me, like, do you want to be my backpack?” he asked again, giving his signature, stereotypical haha laugh.

“Oh uhh sure! I mean um that sounds like fun or whatever,” when you caught yourself seeming too eager, you changed up the way you phrased your sentence quickly.

When he turned around to give you a jacket and a helmet, he patted his pockets like he always does when he’s missing something before groaning from annoyance and pinching the bridge of his nose with his gloved hand.

“Well, I unfortunately don’t have an extra jacket or helmet on me right now so it seems we won’t be doing any riding today, but we could always do it another time I guess, dunno,” he mumbled the last part, “How long will you be here in Manchester?” he inquired, wondering how much time he would have before you would leave the city and the country

“I think we’re going to be here for at least another week,” you shrug as you see him frantically pull out his phone, almost dropping it once before he hands it to you, the contact screen open. Once you two exchange numbers, silence falls upon the two of you again.

“I could walk you back to your hotel if you would like, I don’t like the idea of you walking alone at night, especially as a tourist. Plus my mom would kill me if she found out I didn’t offer,” he laughs as he holds out his arm towards you.

“That would be nice,” you smile as you hook your arm in his, your brown skin contrasting with his pale one. He quickly unhooks his arm to place his leather jacket over your shoulders before linking arms again and heading on your way to the hotel. During the walk back, the two of you got to know each other, learning about interests and current status in life along with cracking jokes and just breaking the ice. It was about a 15-minute walk back to the hotel and once the two of you got back, you sighed, a little sad that your time together was already over for the day.

“We’re here. Thank you for walking me back to my hotel again, it was really sweet of you to do this because you really didn’t have to,”

“Of course, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t offer?” he snapped a flower from a nearby plant and handed it to you, “a pretty flower for the pretty lass,” he winked as you took it.

“Ugh, you Brits are such charmers, I’m quite sad to say that it worked too,” you both laughed for a few moments as he unlinked your arms.

“You free tomorrow at 19:00?”

“I’m so glad I understand military time, and yes I am,”

“Alright lass, I’ll be here in the lobby then, make sure you’re on time,” he gently takes your hand in his gloved one and kisses it through his balaclava. He gives one more wink before he turns on the heels of his combat boots and strides confidently out of the hotel. You stood there, absolutely shocked at what occurred before you realized you still had on his leather jacket. You ran outside to find him and tell him he had forgotten his jacket, but by that time, he had already disappeared into the cool Summer night. At least that meant you were guaranteed to see him tomorrow because there was no way he would just forget the nice leather jacket.

[simonrileysfavteacup]

You stir awake, sighing as you roll over to face your sleeping husband. You sit up, fixing your stretchy shirt over your very swollen belly. You pat Simon’s side. “Si? Si! Si!”

He groans as he wakes up, rolling over and shoving his head into his pillow. “Go back t’ sleep.”

“I want a big mac.”

He groans louder. 

“Please, Si? I’m super hungry. And bubby keeps kicking.”

He sighs, “Look ‘t the time, lovie.”

You almost tear up. 

When he notices the frown on your face, he sighs again, getting up. “Which one is the closest?”

You smile, almost jumping with joy as you lean up to press a million kisses to his cheek. “The one on 42nd.”

He leans down, kissing your belly and your lips before heading off to get dressed. 

He returns 20 minutes later, a bag and 2 drinks in hand. You practically moan at the smell as he hands you the bag. 

“I love you,” you moan as you take a bite of your burger. He chuckles, eating his own. “Bubby loves you too. He’s kicking every time I take a bite.”

“Bet ‘e does.” Simon kisses your belly as you stuff a few fries in your mouth. “Lovie?”

“Yeah?” you ask with a mouth full. 

“Do ya think he’ll like me?”

“For the millionth time, my love, you are nothing like your father. You’re far too kind and too amazing and too sweet. He’s going to love you. Just like I do.”

He chuckles, “Love you too.”

He leans down, kissing your belly. 

“Both of ya annoying little buggers. Always fuckin’ hungry.”

[chaosandmarigolds]

Simon Riley! who isn't traditional in the gross way but in the he wants to protect you and make sure you don't feel like you have to provide for yourself, he wants to be a safety net, something to rely on

Simon Riley! Who made it a point to buy your dream house as soon as you were married,

Simon Riley! Who didn't expect houses to require so...much...work

"Baby! The water won't turn off?"

"The fuck you mean it won't turn off just-" Simon grumbled as he dropped the moving box and walked into the kitchen, grabbing the handle of the faucet and trying to pull it, only for it to come flying off. Leaving him dumbfounded and you a giggling disaster.

Simon Riley! Who likes handy man tasks as much as the next guy but the people at the store are beginning to know his name

Simon Riley! Who didn't have a dad to teach him some stuff like plumbing and whatnot so he calls Price

"Oi, Cap-"

"She came to her senses and ran away, yeah?"

"No...I need you to tell me ho' to turn off th' water."

Simon Riley! Who does know how much you love watching him do yard work but doesn't dwell because these godddamn weeds-

Simon Riley! Who loves nothing more than watching you paint the walls of the house, finds it like to be a scene of a movie and it would be a lie if the reality was much better than the cinema

Simon Riley! Who hates facebook because you would randomly send him across the city because you found an old China cabinet you thought would be perfect

Simon Riley! Who doesn't care how his buddies tease him about becoming a domestic civilian so soon, because he would happily fix a thousand houses if it meant a thousand more years with you

(Comments and feedback make my day! annnd yeah that's it <3 )

[simonzmama]

creds: @plutism

‘magining simon helpin his pretty girl shave after he’s knocked you tf up

he’s heard you callin from the bathroom, panic settling into his chest like a heavy weight as he bursts through the door. yet, you’re sitting on the edge of the tub, rob thrown over your bare body messily as you stare up at him with sweet lil sad eyes.

which is how he got to where he was now, kneeling on the tub floor with his head between your wide thighs. his left hand digs into the soft, healthy meat on your thigh as his right gently drags the razor over the patch of pretty hair resting on your pubic bone.

he’s so gentle it makes your heart swoon, stomach fillin with nausea n heart pumpin with nothing but love for this sweet man.

his left hand slides down your thigh to peel your lips apart, his hand steady as he shaves you clean. he’d be murmuring soft praises n leaves light kisses to your knee trying to get you as comfy as he can. (def has a smile on his face the whole mf time too)

“want me to get your legs for you too, hon?” ‪‪❤︎‬

pls cuz he’d be so sweet, no embarrassment wich your mannnn!!

[yawnderu]

bimbo!reader has a girl cat that's absolutely in love with Simon.

“‘S your mama bein' mean to you?” He coos to the big white cat laid on his stomach, getting a few loud purrs in return as his hand runs up and down her fur.

“I'm just trying to put her collar on, Si.” You whine, attempting to grab the cat only for her to cuddle closer to Simon, kneading his chest. He gave you a small smile, leaning down to plant kisses all over her head.

“Gimme the collar, angel.” He reaches out for it and examines it for a few seconds, amusement dancing in his brown eyes. It's pink, decorated by strawberry charms over the length of it and a big, darker pink bow at the end. It absolutely looks like something you'd enjoy— like something Ms. Whiskers would enjoy.

He plants a kiss on your nose before putting the collar on the cat with ease, the birman putting no resistance at all. She was such an obedient girl before meeting Simon, yet just like you, she's been getting spoiled well. She meows as you pet her, pretty acrylics that he paid for running up and down her fur, making her purr louder on his chest.

Bimbo!Reader Masterlist

[oceantornadoo]

your weighted blanket (simon riley x f!reader)

could be part of this two lieutenants series but it’s standalone

—

“you know what i want?”

“wha’?”

“a weighted blanket.”

simon turned away from his bedroom desk to stare at you, his dark eyes squinting incredulously.

“what?! i think it’d help me sleep.”

“wha’ the fuck is a weighted blanket.”

you huffed a sigh. “it’s literally a weighted blanket simon. having weight pressing down on you helps you sleep, it’s scientifically proven.” you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as you laid back on his bed.

turning off his desk lamp, he made his way to his bed. he joined you on top of the covers, giving you plenty of space. keeping it platonic. not that he wanted to, but that was another thing.

“can’t jus’ have some sop lay on you?” the words hurt coming out, but it was the only thing he could say. desperately looking for a sign that you were talking to someone as you were so tightlipped about your escapades until after they ended.

“i’m on a man break. they all suck.” no one measured up to the unending care simon gave you, even if he was just a friend. just a friend who lets you come into his room every night, talking yourself to sleep. just a friend who never forgets your favorite body wash or candle scent on supply runs.

“they don’t know how to treat a woman like you.” his words echoed in the dark, ideas of what they meant bouncing around in your brain. “a woman like me?” silence. “don’t be mean, si.”

fuck he was so stupid. needed to watch his tone better, like gaz was always telling him. “dove, jus’ meant a smart independent woman like yourself. yer lookin’ for a partner and they’re look for a mother or a fuck. or both.” your jaw dropped. “oh. thanks.” his words thickened the air. no one had ever talked about you like that, like you were something to be treasured, not kept. like he respected you.

“if you really need a weighted blanket i-“ “yeah?” you sounded too eager, but you didn’t care. you turned towards him, catching his eye in the gleam of the base lights outside his window. “could be yers. if you want. strictly platonic.” he scratched his head, looking away. embarrassed. “yeah, platonic. course, yeah. that’s fine. good, i mean.” you needed to get your act together and stop sounding like a teenager, but he just offered to be your blanket. surely that was more than platonic.

“now?”

“sure.”

you sat on his bed like a dead fish, arms at your sides. you were not about to initiate what surely would be the most awkward non-cuddle session in your life. simon pressed one large paw into the mattress, hauling his huge body up on one arm. he moved down farther on the bed, his head parallel to your ribs. then, with the uttermost care, he shifted on top of you, hovering. waiting. “you can lay on me si, it’s okay.” he released his hands slowly, the full force of his body laying on you. 250+ pounds of pure machine, a body honed from years in the military. a soldier, a sniper, a lieutenant, now at your mercy, body covering yours completely.

“not too weighted for you?” you giggled. an actual giggle from his fellow lieutenant. “no, si. not too weighted.” your hand instinctively went to his hair before you could stop yourself. “is this comfortable? you’re on my ribs.” he grunted. it actually hurt like a bitch, your bone pressing into him through layers of fat, but he was laying on you and therefore could not complain. “you can move up, i won’t mind.” well, if you were letting him. he wanted to make the most of this blanket situation, this type of intimacy so foreign to him.

simon scooted up your body and laid his head on your tits. built-in pillows, one might call them. you hand went to his hair again, slowly scratching his scalp. “this ok?” you never touched like this, had never touched him like something precious. he grunted, a yes in “ghost” as you liked to call it. you continued running your hand through his hair, surprised at the softness of his locks. his face was against your breast, and usually you’d be embarrassed, but lines had been crossed and all bets were off. his body was heavy, sure, but the weight of it was comforting. all you could think of was him, not the annoying recruit from this morning, not the bad dinner you had at the mess hall. only the smell of the base shampoo and his natural musk, something uniquely him but not gross.

all simon could hear was your heartbeat. it had quickened when he first laid down, but now it was slowing to a comforting beat. you were here, you were breathing. the gunfire and the smell of bombs in his head meant nothing as long as he had you like this, in his arms where no one could hurt you. he could feel your body relaxing, muscles losing the day’s tension and giving themselves over to sleep. as your breathing slowed and you moved to a lower, more comfortable position on his pillow, he knew time could stop and all that would matter was you, right here, with him.

--

part one part two part three part four

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

Napping with Simon “Ghost” Riley

My Blog is 18+ as is 99% of my content. Do not interact if you are a minor/under the age of 18.

No real warnings, just fluffy fluff.

Despite you catching the giant of a man sleeping on your sofa multiple Sundays in a row, he insists that he was just “resting his eyes”. 

It’s cold, rain pelts rhythmically against the window of your living room as you lie on the sofa wrapped in Simon’s arms. You’re nice and cosy from behind, his large frame wrapping around you as you watch something inane on television. 

You shiver a little, eyes already drooping as you clutch your arms around your body. 

“Cold?” Simon murmurs into your ear as he holds you closer, rubbing his calloused palms up and down your arms. 

“A little,” you admit, not wanting to move to get a blanket, you like it when Simon holds you like this. 

“Hang on,” he says as he kisses the crown of your head. He twists and turns behind you until you feel a soft throw blanket settle over you both, “Does that help?” 

“Yeah,” you hum as you bury your face into the plush material, “Thank you Si.” 

“No need to thank me, love,” he responds with a soft huff as he wraps a large arm around your middle, pinning you back against him. 

There’s a comfortable silence as you feel your eyelids drooping, unable to stop the inevitable, you let them close. But before you fully drift off, you notice the change in the rise and fall of Simon’s chest. His arm is looser around you as you feel his whole body slowly relax. 

“Si?” You whisper, not wanting to wake him if he had fallen asleep.

No answer. 

“Are you asleep?” You try again, only a little louder this time as a self-satisfied smirk graces your lips. 

“Hmmm?” He stirs a little, looping a leg over your two as he tucks the throw tighter around you both, “Just resting my eyes.” 

Napping with Captain John Price Napping with Soap Napping with Gaz Napping with König CoD Masterlist

[suguann]

He has a feeling that the new girl running the front desk at the gym is going to be a problem—a distraction disguised in a gym uniform polo and khaki pants.

It starts with you smiling too brightly as he walks in one morning, all teeth and that little twinkle in your eye that feels like trouble when you scan his membership card.

“Good morning, Mr. Riley.” 

“It’s just Simon,” he tells you as he takes his card off the counter. 

The following day, it’s the same, except Johnny is there to make it worse.

He nudges Simon with his elbow. “She’s kinda pretty, huh?”

“Say it any louder, and she’ll hear you, mate,” he grumbles.

Simon’s not blind; of course, he knows you’re pretty, but he doesn’t have time to commit to anything outside of work—even if you smile at him like you’re happy to see him and how he’ll think about it later: on missions, at his desk, during morning runs. His head is nothing short of woven webs with thoughts of you stuck in the middle.

Honestly, it’s that you—

(You try to make small talk with him every morning, and Simon is starting to think it’s just for him because on the days he doesn’t come alone, you merely scan his card and go back to reading the open paperback book on the desk.)

It’s weird because it’s almost like you—

(He bumps into you at the supermarket and makes a dumb joke about carrots that makes you laugh. It makes him a little tongue-tied and awkward afterward because he realizes he hasn’t talked to a woman outside of only wanting a quick fuck in a really long time, but more importantly, he wants to hear it again. 

Instead, he tosses potatoes in his cart and walks away.)

He tells himself it means nothing, or not how Simon wants it to.

You’re just…he’s not even sure; acquaintances? Maybe more than that, but less than friends. Somewhere in that odd in-between phase where he only knows bits and pieces but not the whole picture.

Sometimes, he wishes—

(Simon doesn’t know what he’s doing the first time he invites you to meet the guys from work on a night out. He’s dated around a few times and had his fair share of hook-ups, but this isn’t like that. His palms are sweaty, more than usual, and no amount of wiping them on the thighs of his jeans keeps them dry.

Then you walk into the bar in a dress that’s probably too light for early spring in London—even though he stares appreciatively at the long expanse of your legs as you walk up to the table—and he wishes he wasn’t introducing you as his friend.)

But you—

(A new development happens after you slip him your phone number on one of the gym’s business cards—it’s weird that we don’t have each other’s numbers, so message me sometime or whatever—and he messages you ‘hey’ right before he leaves for a mission a few days later. 

It slowly shifts and changes over time.

You start sending him texts in the morning. Never an actual good morning text, but of the dogs you take on walks, the sunrise, the new flower box in your window. Somehow, it’s better.)

You really are—

(His house feels too hot, and he’s distracted from the movie by how close you are, how your leg drapes over his under the blanket, fingers fisting into his sweater at his stomach that clenches. An ache that grows, throbbing, spreading from his abdomen to his groin.

It feels monumental—something more than the gentle touch to the elbow to squeeze by each other in his entryway earlier or giving you his jacket that night at the bar—a tilt of the axis that makes the messy pieces fall neatly into place. 

He must be staring because you glance up at him, smiling, and the sound from the TV turns into white noise in the background.

“Can I…would you—fucking hell,” Simon runs a hand through his hair. “Can I kiss you?”

When your lips press against his, and his hands are pulling you onto his lap, where you settle hotly against his dick tenting in his jeans, he wonders why neither of you has done this before. Just kissing—him licking the seam of your mouth, and you panting his name.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” you mumble, lips brushing his.

“Me too,” and he fists his hand into the hair at your nape and pulls you back to his mouth.)

“I knew you’d be trouble,” he tells you one day, glaring at the bloke further down the bar who tried making a swipe at your ass before Simon showed up, towering over his shoulder with your fruity cocktail in hand.

“Oh, yeah?” you giggle, leaning into his side.

“Yeah,” the corners of his mouth quirk, though he hides it when he presses a kiss against your temple. “A real pain in my ass, love.”

“But yours.”

This time, he does smile. “Yes, but mine.”

Masterlist

[angelltheninth]

The Cute Ways Simon Riley Uses His Height to His Advantage

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Tags: fluff, height difference, kissing, teasing, keeping quiet, Simon being a romantic, good boyfriend Simon

A/N: Random and cute headcanon I wrote in a few minutes.

Simon would absolutely be the tall boyfriend who would reach for things from the top shelf for you. But also the one who would put them there so you'd ask for his assistance. This would be done discreetly of course, he thinks you're non the wiser but over time you'd put two and two together. You sure as hell aren't the one putting your mug up there. It looks nice next to his so you don't complain.

Also you get to feel his huge body pressed up against yours so there's that benefit. Another is that when you're brushing your teeth together he tends to stand behind you, leaning back a little, one arm holding you close and the other holding his toothbrush. You told him he could just wait until you're done but Simon likes this a lot more.

When you go out together it's impossible to lose sight of Simon, he stands out with his height no matter where you go. Which comes in real handy if you go and see a show, he can lift you on his shoulders easily. He can also spot free seats really easily, ensuring you never have to stand around for long. You might get some looks because he is so big, especially if you're on the shorter side not of average height.

If you're at the library he will always so the cheesy thing of handing you a book and then bending down to kiss you. He's seen it in so many movies and he always wanted to try it. The only thing he had to be mindful of was not making too much noise when your kisses got a bit heated. The last thing you both needed was to get chased out of there for making out like a couple of lovestruck teens in a romance movie. Would be worth it as far as Simon is concerned but he doesn't want to get you in trouble.

[mactavishsgfandwife]

Simon Riley who bleaches his hair. (inspired by this)

There’s a weird smell in your flat. And no, for once, it’s not your boyfriend’s awful British ‘cooking’.

"Simon? You there?" you call out, kicking your shoes off and hanging your jacket up by the door.

"M’here," he calls back, occupied. The cat is sitting on the sofa, looking very unimpressed with his dad’s antics.

"Do you-" you turn a corner to see your boyfriend, staring into the bathroom mirror a little too intensely. One of those hair-colouring brushes is in his hand, painting a slightly blue-tinted paste over his short hair.

"Hey, sweetheart." Hr doesn’t turn from the mirror, but it’s clear that he’s struggling to hide the grin on his face as you catch him red-handed. Bleach-handed.

Simon bleaches his hair? It’s not naturally that colour? Not really knowing what to say, you just stand there and laugh a little, before stepping closer to investigate what he’s doing. He’s laid out all the products in no particular order, by the sink.

"Can y’get the back of my head?" he groans, turning his head in the mirror in an attempt to see how much of it he’s covered.

"Sure." You nod, standing on a chair to get a good vantage point over him.

"Missed a spot, Si," you coo, filling in the little section just above his nape that is not covered by the bleach, and lean to kiss his head, before deciding that that might not be a great idea. Instead, you hop down, and with his strong arms around you, reach up to give him a proper kiss.

"Thanks, love," he grins, not-so-subtly checking himself out in the mirror.

"This stuff stinks," you whine, giggling at this new hairstylist development.

thanks for reading! i was randomly inspired :3 i’m working through my requests atm, but they’re still open! check out my masterlist!

[zvdvdlvr]

thinkinf blue collar!simon thoughts…

welder!simon making you those pretty metal flowers. welder!simon who loves when you pack lunch for him because its so domestic and he’s out of the house by 0400 in the morning anyway. welder!simon who talks about you to all the down-to-earth guys that come through and have a job for him. welder!simon who always showers right when he gets home because he know how you get when he gets thise little curls of steel that latch onto his shirt on the couch or get dirt on the bed.

mechanic!simon who always gets your vehicle in and out before anyone else though possible. mechanic!simon who offers to fix things up at your house/apartment for free because he (wants to spend time with you) knows how expensive things are… and he is your friend, so why not just do it out of the kindness of his heart? mechanic!simon who is friends with you long enough to know your favorite animal/song, so he casually gets a tattoo of the animal silhouette/lyrics because he has tattoos anyway so why not get one that reminds him of you?

electrician!simon who always jumps to offer his work skills if you need. electrician!simon who always lets you know the latest gossip that he hears on the job if you want to know. electrician!simon who always calls you after a work accident/scare: he fell about twenty feet and landed on his back and his first thought was of you, simon got shocked by a live wire and asked for you to come cook him dinner because he burned through some skin tissue (and he knows you’d do it).

[simonrileysfavteacup]

Simon Riley whose insomnia is so bad that when you first start sharing a bed together, he gets a wink of sleep. Not that he gets more than that any other night but still…

You’d be lying next to him, fast asleep, curled up in his arms. He’s almost there. Almost asleep. So close…

And then you shift. And he’s wide awake again. 

Staring down at your sleeping body that shifted an inch closer to him. That took him out of his beauty sleep. 

Almost. 

He could be asleep and you’d shift around a little, he’d still wake up and look over at you. Eyes narrowed to see if you were awake. 

When he’s asleep and you get up to grab something, he jolts awake as if on the battlefield, ready to rip a head off. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Gonna go get a glass of water…and maybe some sleeping pills for you,” you tease, heading to the kitchen. 

But when he finally does get used to sharing a bed and his insomnia lessens, be ready for his loud loud loud ass snores.

[chaosandmarigolds]

newbornDad! Simon Riley

Simon! Who insists on carrying the baby carrier through the threshold of the house when you get home from the hospital

Simon! who spent nine months training Riley to be gentle with the baby

Simon! Who carries the baby around showing them the house with little whispers, 'annnn this is your brothers room, he's had your grandads right now but don't worry sweetpea, you'll meet him soon'

Simon! Who strongly believes the baby needs skin to skin, so...are you complaining about him walking around shirtless with a baby held to chest, not at all

Simon! Who is so worried when Ollie holds the baby for the first time because yeah Ollie is six years old at that point but anxiety??

Simon! Who hates that he has to go on a mission, even if for two weeks because they are sooo so vital and he doesn't want to leave you alone and-

Simon! Who tells Oliver to take care of his little sibling and to look after you

Simon! Who hates his job sometimes

[secretlovezz]

Simon Riley who just needs to stare at his girl for a while after coming home from a four and a half month deployment.

His gaze is stuck on you, darting around looking to see if anything changed. He needs to memorize everything. He's watching the way your eyes meet his every once in a while to make sure he is still listening to what you got up to while he was gone -you smile every time you look at him-, he's watching the way your lips move as you speak, lips opening and closing while you talk, tongue touching the tip of your teeth when you say certain words. You have him absolutely mesmerized with every one of your movements.

God, he missed this.

He missed watching and listening to his girl.

His girl.

His one and only.

[katz-chow]

sorry sex with simon

warnings: pnv, fem!reader, fluffy, edging/denial, msub, fsoftdom

simon doesn't know how to apologize besides throwing himself into your mercy. he loves you and can't think of any other way to express to you how never means to hurt you, how everything he does is to make sure you're comfortable and taken care of.

even after this stupid little argument that he had with you, he didn't even know why he was fighting. he just realized too late when he saw tears form in your eyes and your feet stomping off into your shared bedroom.

so here is his penance, his apology: giving you soft kisses on your shoulder as his arms hold you up over his cock.you whine and groan as his cock slips in and out of your dripping pussy. he didn't want to hurt you and he didn't want to make you feel any more discomfort so he, in turn, used more lube than he normally would. the sounds of skin slapping skin normally would have made you blush in embarrassment and cause you to curl up into him. this time around, you couldn't care less, the way he's making you feel was a clear juxtaposition to how to feel just an hour before.

you feel his breath, heavy and hot in the crook of your neck, you pussy pulses around him and over your moans, he gives you one in return. his tongue licks and sucks on your shoulder gently, "m' sorry baby...shouldn't have said that..."

you whine and wrap your arms around his neck and his back, your tits pressed against his chest, "can we...ah- can we not..." you suck in a breath, "do this right now, si? when you're in me?"

he mumbles something you can't process or hear as one of his arms unravels and goes to rub tight circles around your clit. your back arches into his touch and a loud groan of his name rings out.

"wanna show you...how sorry i am.." he pants as his dick throbs inside of you, so so close to cumming, fill you up in his sticky release. the snap of his hip dials down into a roll. he hums as he feels your body start to tense up as the tension builds in your lower stomach.

crescent indents form in his back as your nails dig in from the pleasure he's able to give you, the amount of bliss 10x as strong from the lack of such a euphoric feeling you've been feeling. his thumb rubs your aching clit just a bit harder and your groans turned into a cacophony of whimpers and high pitched squeals as your orgasm runs through you.

simon feels your body tensing up in his arms, and damn does his cock feel it too. the way your cushiony walls pulsate and clamp dowm on him, god he was hard, it was unbearable. he wanted to cum so fucking badly, been wanting to put a load in you for half an hour now but he won't let himself. he said he was showing you how sorry he was, and that's exactly what he's doing.

your breathing steadies itself and you curl up closer to him, resting your face onto the top of his head, smelling in his yours shampoo. your whines become hiccups as your high dies down, overwhelmed and tired.

"i'm sorry lovie..." he begins, his hand slipping out from between your legs and his hips start to roll his cock in and out of your raw pussy. you groaned and tense up at the overstimulation, clinging onto him.

he turns off his brain as you help him, pulling your hips up and down. he lets out a breathy moan and holds you closer, snapping his throbbing cock inyo your harder, faster. his lips on your neck as he prays to you a mantra.

"m'sorry..so sorry, lovie..." simon's close he can feel it, he just needs two words from you, that's it. he needs you to let him cum, god-seeing you sad is punishment enough, mixed with the pain of his tight balls and overly sensitive cock makes him a brainless mush.

he couldn't take it anymore as he pounds into you, mumbling messily into your ear, your scent overwhelming him- you overwhelming him. "m'sorry m'sorry...so sorry. m'sorry sorrysorrysorry...."

"it's okay, si...it's okay." god, that's all he needs as his prayers to you were answered, his mantra stops with a restrained moan, quickly turning into whimpers like a hurt puppy as you feel his thick cum fill you, dripping down his shaft.

his arms loosen the grip he has on you and you slide down his dick just a bit and he bites into your shoulder, the friction making him overwhelmed. the two of you sit like that for a bit, leaning on each other to stay upright. you don't even think simon had anything to think about.

"you okay?" you ask him, grounding him from his headless space that he had slipped to, dependent on you for everything.

you feel him nod and his arms lift you up, pulling out of you. he gives you a gentle kiss on your lips and your hands find his cheeks, wiping away his tears. "m' really sorry.."

"i know, baby...i know.." you assure him and he lays back onto the headboard.

simon riley would gladly give up his whole being for you, and luckily for him, you'll always accept it, holding him together until he stitch himself up again.

master list | letter box | main directory

stop by the letter box!

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

“This is my daddy, his name is Simon.” Your daughter stood proud, beaming up at her father as she introduced him to her kindergarten class. “He is a soldier for the SAS.”

Simon watched as nearly a dozen small eyes watched him intently. Usually, in circumstances like this Simon would be nervous, but the tight comforting grip of his little girls hand in his, had his confidence soaring.

“Well class, does anyone have any questions for Mr. Riley?” Your daughter’s teacher asked, giving Simon a knowing smile.

Simon’s eyes widened as every single hand in that classroom rose, each hand eagerly waving, waiting to be picked on.

He answered what felt like a million questions in ten minutes. The questions ranged from, how long has he been in service, what does his job entail, has he killed anyone, is he friends with his other soliders- you name it. He actually found himself enjoying answering the questions, and was genuinely surprised at the maturity of some of the children.

Simon rarely liked being the center of attention, but he felt a surge of pride bubbling in his chest as he looked over at her daughter who was looking back at him like he was the coolest person on the planet.

~

Later on, a group of kids surrounded your daughter as Simon stood outside the classroom chatting away with some of the parents. He let his eyes wander, watching as his daughter chatted excitedly to her fellow classmates.

“I’m so jealous your dad seems so cool!” One of the kids told your daughter, and the rest of the children nodded in agreement. “I wish he was my dad.”

“I know.” Your daughter said, a proud smile lining her lips. “My daddy is the best there is.”

Little did she know, Simon was standing right around the corner listening to her every word, a soft smile dancing on his lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: sorry this is trash, lol. Had this idea after a dream I had, and had to write it😂🥺