Simon Riley x Reader
Teen!au
tw: drinking, mild swearing, kind of sad, self indulgent and stereotypical
“Do you have to record everything?” Simon grumbled as you set up the camera on your rickety old bookshelf.
“I want this played at our wedding.” You replied with a smile that never ceased to make Simon’s heart skip a beat. ‘Wedding’. Simon Riley was going to marry you. You said it like it was just a fact of the universe, and maybe it was.
He watched as you finally stepped back with a slow pace, hands out like you were waiting for the damn thing to topple over. Then you turned back to him, eyes glimmering in the low light of your bedroom.
“C’mon. Dance with me, Simon.”
And how could he resist?
So you slow danced in the dark, music playing from a CD player just soft enough so that your parents wouldn’t hear. It was hardly a waltz, but it was perfect in every way that mattered. Two teenagers swaying back and forth, filled with the kind of love that people write poetry about. He looked into your eyes and saw it all there laid out in black and white. A wedding. A house. A few kids running around. More than anything he’d ever thought he could dream of with the kind of upbringing he had.
With a heavy feeling in his chest, Simon pulled you closer by the waist, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead and shutting his eyes like he could stay like this forever if only the world would let him.
Simon glanced over as you fumbled with that dreaded camcorder again, this time trying to make it sit straight on the dash as the car rumbled underneath you. The angle was off, sat askew even after your repeated meddling. You didn’t seem bothered by it as you sat back in the seat, hair blowing in the wind through the opened window. He couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you looked with the sunlight dancing across your face.
“What’re you up to, love?” Simon asked, casting you a suspicious look out of the corner of his eye. You giggled, that little laugh you did that always meant you were up to something.
“This is a physical record of the fact that I’m in love with Simon Riley.” You said into the camera, beaming. Simon rolled his eyes, but the smile that tugged at his lips betrayed how fond he was of your dramatics.
He was about to say something back when he noticed you shift, pulling your upper body out of the car window, your hair fluttering behind you.
“Hey! I’m in love with Simon Riley!” Your voice called out to the entire street. Simon’s eyes went wide and his hand shot out to yank you back into your seat with a decisive pull.
“What the hell was that about?” Simon complained, his face tinged a light shade of pink. You were in a fit of giggles, clearly pleased with yourself. God, you were gorgeous.
He huffed, shaking his head at your antics and feeling a strangely warm sensation in his heart.
“What am I s’pose to do with you, sweetheart?” He muttered under his breath.
You leaned over the console and smacked a big loud kiss to his cheek.
Your fingers fumbled around with a string of flowers, tongue stuck out the side of your lip and eyebrows scrunched in deep concentration. Simon watched on, hands leaned back against the grass and ankles crossed in front of him. It was a nice spring day, clouds floating above in abstract shapes and a light breeze rustling the trees in the background. There were distant sounds too, a football practice of ways off, but close enough you could still hear the shouting.
“That a daisy-chain?” Simon asked as he watched you pluck another flower from the ground by your leg.
“They’re dandelions.” You replied back, earning an annoyed sigh from Simon that only made you smile.
“Smartass.” he grumbled, bumping his shoulder against yours. You laughed, that soft yet bright sound that could scare away even the darkest clouds.
“I’m making a flower crown. Don’t know if there’s enough flowers in the whole field to fit around your big head, though.” You teased with a bit of a mischievous look in your eyes.
“My head’s not that big.” He deadpanned.
You lifted up the camera from the grass, facing the viewfinder towards the two of you as you pressed your cheek against his.
“Bigger than mine.”
“That’s because I got more brains than you.”
You gasped dramatically and turned to look at him with offense. The low rumble of Simon’s chuckling settled in the air around you.
“That’s it. No flower crown for you.” You stated firmly, unable to prevent the grin that spread across your lips.
It was dim, only the light of your bedside lamp glowing through the small space of your bedroom. Simon glanced at the camera with obvious trepidation.
“I don’t know what I’m doin’, love.” He said to you, voice a soft vibration against your side.
“That’s alright. I won’t show anyone. Promise.”
And he believed you. Trusted you with his life and his impending embarrassment all the same.
A slow breath through his nose preceded the first few notes of the piano, his thick fingers working with hesitation and lack of ease. The melody was unmistakable though: Clair de Lune.
Even through the soft lighting, the camera picked up the sparkle of your eyes as you watched him, like the best moment of your life was watching Simon Riley clumsily play a song on the piano for you. He had that concentrated look on his face, refusing to look over at you in fear that his embarrassment would swallow him whole if he did. Still, he did it for you. Always for you.
“Who’s the girl?” Johnny asked, settling down beside Ghost on the couch, watching the scenes play on the old tv in the common room. The soft murmuring of your voices through the dark was cut short with a press of a button.
Ghost’s voice was gruff and quiet when he answered.
“No one. Pass me the bottle, Johnny.”
Your son goes missing in the store and Simon decides that being a good samaritan has its perks
Simon hates grocery shopping, especially at the local shop nearest to his apartment. The aisles are too small, the elderly ride around in those electric chairs that ram into his shins, the lights singe his eyeballs even when he squints, the whole place is worse than the hellholes he gets deployed to. He usually tries to grab the bare basics of what he needs and get out of there as quickly as possible, or as quickly as he can while the aisles fill up around him, trapping him in a state of claustrophobia.
drabble
Ghost hates your boyfriend… thats it. thats the story.
Ghost x reader (Simon x reader)
fem!reader
I love bad person ! Ghost :)
tw: none? swearing.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*╰──╮
Tear You Apart
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*╭──╯
Simon x reader {Ghost x reader}
Fem ! Reader
Ghost sees you dancing all alone, and he just wants to sink his teeth in.
TW: mentions of smut, dark fucked up Ghost, noncon/dubcon, excessive drinking
Ghost is really not a good person here, just fyi
Another drabble?
𓂃˖ ࣪⊹
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*╰──╮
Johnny’s Wife 1/?
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*╭──╯
Simon x reader
Fem ! Reader
After Johnny’s death, Simon steps in to care for his grieving family.
TW: mentioned character death, small little smooch, angst?
Just a little drabble thing..
oops there’s parts now
𓂃˖ ࣪⊹
Simon x Reader
Fem ! reader
You left your man at the altar for him. (It’s just silly fluff)
There’s a similar character.ai bot on my page, check it out!
TW: none.. though kinda sorta mention of potential death? but only if you squint.
