Sunlightandprayers

totally lied it became a blast once I got drunk

in an isolationship

Simon Riley Nsfw Headcannons

- Simon loves cockwarming, especially after long, exhausting days filled with paperwork and meetings. He’ll call you into his office, have you straddle his lap, and sink down onto him, keeping you nice and full while he occasionally presses kisses to your temple.

- His British accent always gets thicker when he’s fucking you or when you’ve got him in your mouth. The longer it goes on, the harder it is for him to string words together. When your lips are wrapped around him, and he’s gripping your hair, he sounds even filthier, deep, rough, and almost impossible to understand.

- When he’s away on missions, he sneaks a pair of your underwear or a tiny lace thong into his duffel bag. Late at night, when he finally gets a moment alone, he’ll wrap it around his fist while he strokes himself, holding onto the Polaroid photo of you he always keeps tucked inside his vest.

- Turn on’s: High heels. You in heels is enough to have his cock straining against his pants. And they stay on during sex. No negotiations. Your laugh. Not just the soft ones but the full, unrestrained laughter especially when it’s at one of his god-awful dad jokes. He’s getting a boner on the spot. The way you smell. Not just your perfume, but you. Fresh out of the shower, skin still damp and warm, he’s burying his face in your neck, inhaling deeply before kissing down your spine.

- At first, during sex he starts out with a mix of praise and filthy words, his deep voice spilling the filthiest things into your ear. But once he loses himself in the pleasure of you, his words start to slur together, coming out in broken mumbles that barely make sense. Until he’s just grunting your name, completely wrecked.

- Size Kink? Absolutely. No matter your height or body type, you always look small compared to him, and he loves it. The way his hands completely engulf yours when he pins them down? The contrast of his broad frame over your smaller one? It drives him wild. He’ll groan at the sight of your fingers twitching beneath his as he holds them down, whispering, “So fuckin’ small under me, love— mine to ruin.”

- Loves when you’re vocal, Simon needs to hear you. The little gasps, the way you whimper his name. He craves it. When you two rented a secluded cabin one summer, he took full advantage. Had you screaming his name while he had his face buried between your thighs, eating you out like a man starved. He made sure to fuck you against the cabin wall later that night, just to hear it again.

- You in his clothes, there’s something about seeing you in his clothes that awakens something possessive inside him. Doesn’t matter if it’s his hoodie drowning your frame or one of his shirts hanging off your shoulders. His brain short-circuits every time. He’s even gone as far as hiding your clothes just so you’ll be forced to wear his. And if he catches you walking around in nothing but his t-shirt? Yeah, you’re not making it out of bed for the next hour.

- Loves shower sex, calls the water ‘free lube’, though after one particularly enthusiastic round ended with him slipping and nearly taking you down with him, you had to get grips for the shower floor. He grumbled about it at first, but you caught him checking them out approvingly the next time he pressed you up against the tiles.

Julia

womp womp this feels silly. i had a bad day, SUE ME.

The first time Roommate!Simon Riley saw you cry he wanted to watch the world burn, and simultaneously wanted to be the one to set it alight.

Because to him, there should never be any reason why hot tears stream down your cheeks, why those eyes he loves so much look up at him with bloodshot rims and wet lashes. No, this was wrong.

“Sweet’art?” His voice was softer than normal, and it called out to the corners of your mind as a warm hand splayed across your lower back.

You were supposed to be cooking dinner, and you tried, but after a while the weight on your chest felt too dense to carry anymore. It began seeping out of your pores until the waterfall of emotions became impossible to stop. Now, you were crying over a stove, trying to contain the grief that tried to claw itself out of your chest.

Simon had never seen you like this before, it wasn’t something you wanted him to either, but, inevitably, here you were.

He stood there dumbfounded, his heart clenching tight at the sight of you standing beneath him, absolutely sobbing. He didn’t know what to do or say, just stood there like an idiot, frozen. He watched as you hung your head, hands moving to cover your face. Shaky fingers pressed into the skin of your eyes, willing it to just stop, but your body didn’t listen. It never did.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was broken and laced with shame, and dammit if he didn’t want to roll over in defeat. Because your sweet soul should never feel so anguished.

The sound of your guilt woke something up in him, stirred a possessiveness and protective nature he wasn’t sure he had over anyone else. Before you could speak again, his strong arms pulled you into his bare chest, tucking your shaking form into his unwavering one. He remained sturdy, he remained Simon.

“Easy lovie,” His voice was a strong, deep rumble. A stark contrast to how utterly weak you felt. “I gotcha.” If the dam hadn’t been broken before, it sure as fuck was now.

He allowed himself to feel what to do as you shattered completely in his arms, your limbs going lax as you clung to him like a needy child. He stopped thinking and contemplating options, instead, he just existed.

His chin fell on top of your head, hands squeezing your sides and caressing your warm skin. When you choked on a sob he was quick to shush you, letting his back fall against the counter so he had better leverage. He wanted you to melt into his touch, to let yourself feel. The pot of food was boiling over, steam beginning to waft up toward the ceiling, but he didn’t move. Dinner could wait, he’d starve if he had to, but you, no, he’d let the ground open up and swallow him whole before he ever let go.

He stood firm until your cries began dissipating into sniffles, and when you pulled back to look up at him he swore his entire world came crashing down.

Your hands were squeezing his biceps, the muscles tensing beneath your touch. He let a smile stretch across his lips, and, instinctively, the back of his fingers ran along your cheeks, removing any remnants of your tears.

He watched your eyes close, sniffles turning into deep breaths and heavy sighs. “‘m okay.”

He didn’t push, just kissed your forehead and let you walk away.

You finished dinner, but it was too quiet, and he knew that when you weren’t talking it meant something was still very wrong. Because the lovie he knew, took every waking moment as a chance to make his ears fall off.

He sat next to you while you ate, noticed the way you picked at your food before eventually just giving up on eating entirely.

You offered to do the dishes, and, once more, he let you, but only because he could see the second breakdown from a thousand miles away, and if scrubbing pasta off of plates would help then he’d let you do it.

But it didn’t help, if anything it made everything so much worse.

He came out of the shower to see you crying over the soapy sink, your hands emerged in the now cold water. There was no trepidation this time, he just looped his arms around you from behind, warm lips leaving light kisses to your neck. He let them rest softly against your shoulder, his temple flush against your jaw as he closed his eyes. A heavy sigh came from him too. It felt as though whatever weight rested so heavily on your shoulders had begun to slip onto his. For the first time, he felt his own heart being ripped open for someone else’s.

“I know baby, I do.” His words were a gentle whisper. One that beckoned you to give in.

He held you until you fell asleep that night, and you held him four days later.

He’d never let somebody see him like that, didn’t think you did either, and it laid on his mind, wrapping around his skull and engulfing him in emotions he hadn’t felt since he was a child.

It was one of the first moments he considered the fact that maybe Simon did feel something for you. Because he never wanted to see your eyes rain like that again, ever.

okay this is DUMB i know it but whatever. i must feed my lonely brain.

simon riley whose insomnia went away when he met you

cw: pure fluff - no tag list

after retirement simon still felt the scars and pain as if they were fresh. he often found himself staring up at the popcorn ceiling of his shabby apartment, his large body sprawled out as the thin grey sheets were half on him and half on the cold wooden floorboard.

it was like he could hear the gun shots, the commands being shouted and the smell of smoke. if he was lucky and got some sleep, he would wake up in the middle of the night sweating, jolted awake as his scarred hand was in his chest, his breaths heavy and sharp. never did he think he would get a good night’s rest.

until you.

at first he didn’t even recognise it, his head on your lap as you watched soccer on the television, and simon never missed a game. his eyes felt droopy, the commentary from the show slowly faded as his breathing evened out, the feeling of your nails against his hair making his whole body go limp.

and when he woke up, it wasn’t like the usual nightmare induced sudden jolt, no. it was peaceful.

slowly blinking groggily before realising what had happened.

he fell asleep.

it was only for an hour, but that was the best sleep he had ever gotten.

slowly, he started to sleep more, taking occasional naps with you in his arms, where the two of you slowly migrated from watching tv on the couch to the comfort of his own bed.

his sad flimsy excuse of a bed now adorned in thick blankets and throws just to make the experience a little better.

then he started to go to bed early. usually he would be in bed at best by 1am, finding any excuse to not go, and yet he found himself bundled up next to you by 9.

then, he woke up later, finding any excuse to sleep in. “jus’ ten more minutes,” his voice muffled as he snuggled deep into the crook of your neck, pitting his whole body weight on you so you couldn’t leave.

suddenly, the bed became his favourite place.

Exercise. Avoid drama, embarrassments & toxic people. Look amazing. Get smarter. Embrace peace. Eat clean. Make a ton of money. Level up your circle. Stay pure. Be untouchable. Talk less. Be magnetic & intuitive. Pray more. Think highly of yourself. Be the most precious creature on earth, protected by God.

happy easter girls 🐣🩵 be kind to yourselves today and God bless you all!

i don’t think y’all understand how it wrecks my soul to think of simon riley waiting and waiting and waiting to get tapped out, knowing no one’s coming.