husband!simon riley who backs his wife's rights and wrongs
cw: murder
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 hav'i told ya abo't 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, pre'ty thin', I'v 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 pre'ty 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.
baratheonpilled
titsay
