#soft! simon riley

[kruegerspillow]

sleeping with simon riley includes...

a bunch of coughing and groaning in the middle of the night (yeah... he needs to stop smoking)

random muttering and mumbling from him/you

nightmares. he will literally jump out of the bed which causes you to be startled sometimes (he offered to sleep on the couch due to his nightmares....)

his hands roaming around your body as if he wants to memorize every part of you (he does)

cuddles of course !!! it doesnt matter if hes the big or small spoon he just needs to be with you.

either of you falling off of the bed, at least once in a while

the blankets being left aside because simon says its gonna be 'too hot' (no, he just wants to be your personal heater lmao)

laying on top of each other. yeah, you might end up sleeping with your head resting against his chest.

HAIR STROKING. will stroke your hair until you fall asleep soundly

sigh... drooling. he drools a bit sorry to break it to you guys

a lot of admiring. he'll admire you as you sleep, its the only view that helps him doze off

FOREHEAD KISSES. either you or him. if he stirs awake he'll just give you a small forehead kiss before holding you closer to him (if thats even possible) and dozing off once more

nuzzling. he loves to nuzzle into the crook of your neck :(

tangled legs. his legs are gonna be intertwined with yours oooor one of his leg is going to be on top of yours.

kruegerspillow © 2024 — reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[ms-sasa]

Part two of

Roommate!Simon, who got grumpy after laundry day because one of the socks slipped in the dryer and shrunk significantly

Roommate!Simon, who was devastated because his special gift from you was destroyed and he almost cried after he found the sock in the dryer. (Though he would never admit it)

Roommate!Simon, who pouted for weeks until you managed to get him to spill why he was so upset.

Roommate!Simon, who gingerly confessed what had happened and remorsefully shows you the socks 'm so sorry, luv. Ya' put s' much effort in it' :(

Crafty!reader, who was sad but not because of the shrunken sock but because of the devastated look on Simon's face

Crafty!reader, who just got up and left for her room, leaving simon to think he screwed up and she was mad now.

Crafty!reader, who came back with a deep green pair of wool socks with the union jack knitted at the top 'here.. i made you another one'

Roommate!Simon, who almost cried again because he was gifted with another precious pair of soft _handmade_ pair of socks. 'yu'...t-thank you, luv'

[starsofang]

Simon didn’t like to hold you. He liked to be held.

At first, you didn’t understand why he’d turn his back to you in bed without saying anything. You thought you’d done something to him, or maybe he was in a bad mood. You couldn’t be any more wrong.

Simon Riley, an absolute brute of a soldier, was silently asking for you to be the big spoon. You nearly didn’t believe it when he finally brought it to your attention.

He was too embarrassed to ask you, so he’d resort to flipping on to his side and wait. And wait. Until he realized you didn’t catch the memo, even after many hopeless attempts.

In his mind, he thought being the big spoon would somehow convince you he wasn’t manly enough, as if his title in the service or his pure stature wasn’t proof enough of his masculinity.

To him, being held was a blanket of security. Where he’d always have to watch his back out on the field, both literally and metaphorically, he didn’t have to keep an eye out at all times with you. It was a chance for him to find solace in a person, and when he explained this to you, he was surprised to find you so willing.

And oh, when it happened, Simon nearly kicked himself for holding back on verbalizing it for so long.

The warmth of your arms when they wrapped around him from behind, your face buried between his shoulder blades, legs tangled in his, he thought that this was what inner peace felt like.

He was silly to think you’d ever be the one to judge him for what most deemed ‘unmasculine’. In all of his broad glory, he felt safe the moment you held him, like a child does when they feel a mother’s embrace except it was from someone he loved dearest to his heart.

And you? You found that being the big spoon was rather enjoyable when the man you’re holding was so damn comfortable to snuggle up to. It was a win-win for you both.

You just wished he wasn’t an idiot that left you wondering all those hopeless nights until the truth came out.

[tojisun]

i feel like simon loses it when you murmur, “like this?” every time you ride him.

it’s not even the first time that you’ve ridden him—and he sure as hell would make sure that it wouldn’t be the last—but there’s always something so sweet at the shy curl of your question, your watery eyes peering up at him like simon isn’t ravenous for every inch of you; your scent, your taste, your touch—he’s hungry for everything that you are.

so when you ask him—

like this? timid and achingly soft;

like this? heart stutteringly quiet and meek;

like this? overwhelmingly intoxicating—

simon buckles and wraps his arms around you because, “yeah,” simon replies, voice rumbling in a ragged rasp. “jus’ like that, love.”

his cock twitches, pulsing, and he has to bite down at the inside of his lip to stop himself from reaching his euphoria. it’s too soon, almost embarrassingly so, but he can’t help himself. it’s like your meek question is a trigger for him, unravelling his body until he feels like he is left as mere threads of his ecstasy, stroked to its tipping completion.

yeah, simon repeats to himself, his thick hands planted on the fat of your ass, squeezing greedily, before hoisting you up to feel the delicious press of your walls drag along his cock. it is such an enveloping warmth; all feverish and soft.

how could you even ask him anything like he isn’t being unmade?

you hiccup, breathy and hitching, as you curl close to him. simon chuckles.

“that’s right,” he says, fucking you back down his length. “s’good, huh?”

all he gets is that familiar thrum of your muffled hum, and simon coos because he knows he’s hit that threshold that renders you nonverbal.

see? such a sweetheart for him.

[mintfullyyours]

Thinking about finding out you're Simon's phone wallpaper. Although part of me thinks he might still have a flip phone too. Because he very much wants to be off the grid.

“Simon Riley! We’re running so late!” You yell at the bottom of the steps trying to find call attention to your boyfriend. Swiping a shoe from the floor you quickly hop around, trying to look a bit presentable for the military ball. 

“Love, I can’t find my phone.” He grumbles from the top of the steps.

You roll your eyes, “We’ll find it when we get back, it’s not like you’ll be using it much.”

Simon shrugs as he reaches the last step of the staircase and watches you in your flurry daze. The emerald green, floor length dress hugging your body. A heat warms the lower half of his body. Christ, he couldn't wait for the night to be over and get you out of your dress later tonight.

“Price's gonna have our heads if we’re late.” You mumble incoherent words as you look in the kitchen and see his black case on the marble countertop. You reach for it, “Found it, babe!”

You click the home button to check the time and see 8:3––

Wait a second?

Simon comes into the kitchen, one shoe on and attempting to place the other. “Ah, thank you.” He presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Hold up.” You point as his phone, “Am I your lock screen?” You ask, biting back a smile. 

He freezes. 

A deer caught in headlights.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“And of all the pictures you chose that one?”

He shrugs and clicks the home button to look at the screen. It was a picture of you sprawled on top of the sofa, mouth agape and sleeping soundly. If you squinted, was that glisten at the corner of your mouth -- drool?

“I can change it if you want." He offers. But in reality he loved that photo. He loved how much you trusted him, enough to let all your defenses down.

“Love, that’s actually so sweet.” You smile and press a soft kiss onto his lips and pull the black KN95 mask up over his mouth. 

“Totally better than the one of you on my phone.” With a wink, you hurry out of the kitchen and outside to the awaiting car. It took a second for Simon to register what you were saying before he chases you soon after.

“Hey! Wot you mean by that?!”

[hardknifeplays]

Simon Riley spoiling his missus rotten.

sfw, fluff, soft!simon — reblogs & likes are appreciated.

This man, Simon Riley, will never let you buy cheap things. Even if the thing you want is good quality and highly functional, and buying it really helps you to 'press down the cost'.

"No," said the man quickly when you want to buy an affordable reading tablet, his eyes are still fixated on whatever document was on his laptop screen. Confused, you raised your brow while your hands folded on your chest. "Babe, I'm just using it for reading. That's all, nothing productivity-related." you explained more, but your husband just answered you with another low hum.

"Said no," he repeated flatly. Not knowing why did he just outright denied you of the decent tablet, you sat yourself down carefully on the edge of the table next to his laptop. "But why? I will use it just for reading, I repeat, my sir, just for reading. I'm not going to play games, or even text via the tablet. It is affordable enough." you argued, your hands moving around so expressively (mostly to convince him to agree with you).

Finally, his eyes darted and met yours lazily. He studied you from your head to your torso, then back to your eyes, before letting out a long exhale.

"You don't deserve cheap things," he sighed. You rolled your eyes, and quickly responded, "It's not cheap, Si, it's affordable. Why do I have to buy more expensive things if the cheaper ones are well-functioned already? Especially just for one purpose?" and you could see he responded by wiping his face with both of his hands, before he stood up from his seat and placing himself in front of you.

His swift movement made you looked up at him, the distance between your bodies was almost non-existent and you could feel his warmth radiating towards you. A fucking human furnace, this Manchester lad. He looked at you in the eyes, this time his brows down, looking rather concerned. He lifted his finger outlined your jaw lightly, his eyes trained on your lips before his dark brown iris shot you again with a more loving and gentle expression.

"Why are you always treating yourself this way? Denying yourself from something that you truly deserved," he began, "You don't deserve cheap things, mama. I can afford your every need." as he said so, his lips met yours softly, and you felt his finger tucked some strands of your hair to the back of your ears.

When he let go of the kiss, you returned him a kiss on each cheek. "I don't always need expensive things, Simon. As long as it works well, that would be enough. We can use the money for something else. Okay?" you reassured him once again. His eyes aimed down at the table for a few seconds, before getting back to you.

"You don't always need it, but I am willing to give it to you," he stated, staring right into your eyes for a few seconds longer.

You could feel your blood flushing all over your body, spreading tingling and warm sensation just by seeing the seriousness in his eyes. It made you feel cared for, and you know at this moment that this man would always give what's best for you. Your 'enough' would never convince him, if he could go further for you, he would.

He always would.

You let out a shaky sigh, and then you placed your finger on his chest pointing at him. "Okay, your money, your rules." you chirped playfully, and a grin bloomed at the lips of your husband as he scooped you from the table and pulled you into his embrace.

"That's my missus." he smiled into your hair, finally winning you over.

[bitin-and-barkin]

STRONG OLDER MEN. I want to see a man, so rough and tough in the streets actually be a big sweetheart and SO nervous in bed. All flustered and whiney, rutting against your thigh like a one dollar whore. I need to see them overstimulated and crying from pleasure while you suck them off or eat them out. I want to see them be so scared about hurting you while they fuck you oh so gently, SO horny, but so afraid of hurting you. I wanna see one cry and whimper into your neck while they ride you soo well like a good boy <3 you let them cum as much as they want because they're being soo good for you (and they NEED that privilege cause they are soo sensitive and will cum so much) and they eat ALL of your praise up

[rosegolden13]

Just imagining Ghost who’s not used to all these warm fluttery feelings for you, the medic that patched him up a few weeks ago. He’s had hookups and knows the thick power of lust well. The brief connection of bodies is familiar territory for him and that’s all he’s wanted. But this?

God, he’s fantasizing about holding your hand and blushing under his mask at the thought, the pillowy pads of your fingers pressed tentatively against the rough and veiny back of his hand. He knows the feeling would undo him, cause irreparable damage.

Yes, it’s pathetic but he can’t get over the way your gentle hands patched him up. No one’s ever treated him like that, so careful, so delicate. Like he was the fragile one.

He’s an insomniac but can fall asleep by imagining your soft, warm form cuddled in his arms. And for the first time, he wants more, even if he has no idea how to ask for it.

Meanwhile, reader’s terrified out of her mind cuz why is the scary lieutenant on base staring at her so much?!??? I love cliches so much. A rugged, huge man who’s all soft and flustered for you? Is that so much to ask??

[dxddyspup]

okay but if bf!simon or husband!simon is in love with you he would never keep his mask on during sex.

you've told him that it's fine. maybe that it even turns you on

but he just can't help but see it as disrespectful not to let his pretty girl see his face, ESPECIALLY because he's clingy and needs to be kissing you at all times.

smth about respect. smth about honor. whatever it is, you can't seem to convince him that it's okay so it becomes you're goal in your relationship for a few weeks til he finally does give in. (because he will always give in for his girl)

[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.

[skyrigel]

Simon “Domesticated” Riley is my favourite.

Yes, he would kill for you and he would die for you but his affections and undying love isn't limited to oaths. It's boundless and endless.

He will cook for you, learn because he wasn't taught very good and he wants everything to be good for you.

He will sing for you, because you'd heard him in the shower and couldn't get past to fall asleep without his husky songs to make you fall asleep on his chest.

He will wash the dishes, side by side you. Laughing along as you dry the plates and using his hands at work to your own advantage to play mischief on him.

He will hear you, as you would continue to talk about everything because nothing was out of field, and despite you being a very seducing distraction, he's always trying his best.

He's a “my girlfriend, my wife” guy despite the other Task force guys teasing him about it, he doesn't mind holding your purse, instead he prods on it, he's always on his knees to tie your shoelaces, to help you out from those pointy heels. He doesn't mind being whipped, as Soap christened it, or smitten as Gaz chortled, because he is, as he should.

He's not patronising, despite being raised up to be one. He's gentle and kind and soft for you, and he's working on becoming a better man everyday for you.

He doesn't let his anger that's so unforgiving and terrible get the better of him, he's not a monster despite the blood on his hands as you've always told him so, he would pace around the lawn, sit in the grass, wash his face but he wouldn't let his anger be something you should be scared off, he wouldn't let it get between this holy thing called love.

He talks things out, understands your opinion, values them openly. 

He expresses everything even so it'd become difficult after being told to be stoic for so long, but he tries, always for you. 

He's always startled and flushed when you compliment him and he's trying to learn that you mean every word of it.

Masterlist

[synnicall]

Thinking about Ghost with a baby, doesn’t have to be his.

Lounging on the couch, the baby sat on one of his thighs with one big hand supporting their back, knee bouncing slightly more so out of habit rather than the impulse to bounce the kid. He looks down at the child, a smirk twitching the corner of his lip as he goes to tickle their belly. Giggles fill the air as his big fingers press and wiggle at the kid’s sides. It makes his heart swell: seeing such a small and innocent thing hold so much trust in him, see him as a facet of joy and laughter rather than pain and fear.

He tries not to let that feeling sink too deep in his heart as he lifts the baby to his chest, their head tucking itself under his.

He tries and fails when the child’s grip on his t-shirt tightens.

[ssscatola]

Imagine Simon Riley learning pottery when he retires.

He passes by a ceramics studio every time he goes for a walk or to get groceries and it catches. his. eye. But Simon being Simon, he looks ahead and forgets it, about the people inside working on a wheel and the hanging plants from the ceiling and the POTTERY CLASSES sign staring right at his face.

That is, until he visits Johnny. They eat a homecooked pasta dish and Johnny sets an old tea plate full of olives on the table. "Cannae be bothered to buy a bowl," he says, throwing an olive into the air and catching it with his mouth.

Simon makes it his mission to make him one. It's an excuse to try a new hobby, he tells himself. It's an outlet to be creative, and it's useful; he feeds these ideas into his head.

The bowl has to be perfect. Simon won't settle for less. He rethrows and reshapes it about a thousand times, glazes it in blue and white, impatiently waits for it to dry and finish firing in the kiln and finally wraps it up in a nice box.

He acts tough and nonchalant when he hands it to Johnny, but their fingers touch and he feels the burn like a thousand suns and thinks, did Icarus feel this way when he flew this close to the star?

Johnny's mouth is slightly open and his gaze is soft, eyebrows curved lightly as he inspects the bowl. His stomach twists into a knot, his hands sweat, and he's so fucking scared of dropping and breaking it.

"Simon," his voice wavers, "this is-"

He has to stop talking because he knows his voice will crack and the tears in his eyes are already threatening to spill.

"Look underneath."

Johnny obeys, twists the bowl upside down. In the middle of the flat bottom is the stamp of the maker, a simple letter 'S'.

A few months down the line and Johnny has replaced every single plate (big and small), every cup and mug and coaster and even has a clay vase sitting on the dining room table. Every single piece, along with his ring finger, marked with the letter 'S'.

[ghost4love]

Cuddling with Simon was your favourite “secret” you had on base.

Bad mission- cuddle. Soap pissed him off too much - cuddle. No missions for the next few weeks, you bet your arse Simon will spend every day in your bed holding you close.

You wasn’t sure if it was the thrill of nobody knowing you had the big scary lieutenant cuddled against your chest in a Fetus position… or if it was the way he would act as your own personal weighted blanket. But either way, you loved very moment, the way his arm lazily wrapped round your waist, how every now and again he wanted to be the little spoon and you’d do everything in your power to try wrap your smaller frame around his…

…the way his soft gaze would look down at you while your head lay against his chest, your hand lazily drawing circles against his bare chest. No words spoken but the love blossomed round the room, the giddiness of the kept secret makes every moment more exciting.

Although, the rest of the boys already knows about you and ghost cuddle sessions, when soap walked in on you both snoozing away on the rec room couch, you lying on top of him as his hands grip at you scared to let go, he took a quick photo as he walked away smiling to himself never mentioning the occasion to the pair of you. Just happy you both had each-other,… even if he did have a cheeky bet with gaz on how long it would take for you both to become official.

[scealaiscoite]

reasons for there to be only one bed ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍊 ꒱

¹⁾ they’re undercover as a married couple, and as such need to act like one

²⁾ there’s technically two beds available, but it’s freezing cold and everybody knows body heat works best

³⁾ it’s a camping trip, and one character’s forgotten their sleeping bag

⁴⁾ a character goes to their friend’s house after an emotional upheaval in search of comfort, and ends up staying the night - but refuses to kick the homeowner out of their own bed, resulting in the two of them sharing it

⁵⁾ in a roommate scenario, one character’s bedroom has been rendered unusable - and with the couch being unsustainable in the long run, they proffer sharing the one remaining bed as a solution

⁶⁾ there are two beds, but only one blanket

⁷⁾ a character’s taken ill, and the other party worries too much to leave them alone for even a minute

⁸⁾ in a fit of anger after a mission gone wrong, both characters sleep in the only available bed because no one was chivalrous to offer to take the floor

⁹⁾ a character’s had a nightmare, and needs company to feel safe enough to go back to sleep

¹⁰⁾ the weather takes a tumultuous turn, meaning a late night hangout has to turn into a sleepover when a character gets stranded there for the night

¹¹⁾ it’s a late night at work and when they both grow too tired to continue on, the only option is the lone office couch

¹²⁾ a threat’s been made against one/all character(s) involved, and so under the guise of safety in numbers it’s deemed safest if they stay together - everywhere

¹³⁾ one character joins the other for a late-night conversation, and ends up getting comfortable in their bed next to them - evidently too comfortable, as the char in bed falls asleep on the visitor and effectively traps them there

¹⁴⁾ there’s no bed in the shoddy refuge they’ve found after things went sideways, so when it comes time to sleep the only real choice is to stay close together

and, of course,

¹⁵⁾ it’s the last room available at the hotel after a long trip

[kruegerspillow]

simon riley who just needs to be understood. that's all. one whole jar of pity wouldn't do it, he needs you to acknowledge him. and, when you do, he'll surrender himself faster than he should.

The rain pours down heavily against the roof, the sound of pitter-patters humming throughout your house.

It had been weeks ever since Simon's leave and the sudden change hits you harder than a damn truck. It's just going to be a few weeks, he wrote down in the letter. But, you never really believed him, no. Fuck, you know he'd do anything (that includes lying) just for you to be at ease.

Though, the bed felt colder than before. Your place felt even more... tense, with the feeling of unease running through your body and the unusual, eerie silence. His job wasn't an easy one, and with the fact that his life is on the line, it made it worse.

Your heartbeat quickened as you looked down at your phone, scrolling through the messages and pictures Simon had sent the other day. You don't understand how soldiers could be so composed in the middle of the battlefield, including Simon himself. You'd be damned if you heard a single gunshot ringing across you.

Suddenly, the familiar sound of a car engine knocked you out of your trance. Your head perked up, a feeling of hope sparking up in your weary heart. Could it be him? You thought to yourself. He's earlier than usual.

You placed your phone on the table, gaze locking onto the front door as you leaned back against the armrest of the couch, a pillow pressed against your back. The sound of the engine eventually came to a stop, then—

Click.

There he was. Simon motherfuckin' Riley.

He took off his boots and placed them aside as soon as he met your gaze. The smell of rain and dirt lingered around him, but he didn't care anymore. Not when the love of his life is right in front of him, waiting patiently to be placed into his embrace. But, he's fuckin' exhausted, and he can't help but let the feeling of fatigue take over his body.

He closed the door behind him, walking towards you with a look of deep longing and care. His bags were left right beside the front door. Your eyes travelled over his figure, searching for any new scars or wounds.

"Bloody 'ell, I missed ya s'much." He murmured, his voice raspy and carried a handful of emotions.

Before you knew it, he plopped down onto you, head resting against your plump thighs, earning an amused gasp from you. His arms softly wrapped around your waist, slipping underneath your shirt before caressing your bare skin. You sighed in content, relaxing beneath him before your hands made their way to his hair, running your fingers through his hair.

"Welcome home, Simon." You greeted him, your voice filled with warmth and relief.

He grunted in response, burying his face between your thigh, causing you to nearly whimper in response. But you knew he ran out of the energy, having finished a tiring deployment. Your gaze softened at the sight before you. Sometimes, even the strongest souls get exhausted.

"Want me to make tea for you, love?" You softly whispered into his ear.

He shook his head, wanting to hold you just for a while (that's a lie. He'd go through the whole month burying his face into you) and you understood, staying silent as you embraced him. You let him do his thing and fuck he was turned on by that mere fact. But, for now, lust was long forgotten, buried away by the need of your comfort and warmth.

Your hands gently massaged his tense shoulder, feeling the way his muscles relaxed under your touch. Slowly, his vision fades into nothingness, for your touch has provided comfort even to the soul of the corrupt. Surrendering himself into sleep had never felt so... easy.

And, soon, he'll show you just how lucky he is to have you.

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