a collection of riley’s. simon riley.
pairing: simon riley x reader
summary: riley riley knows what’s up
contains: may be some she/her pronouns.
you fall into step beside simon, riley riley moving between you, her lead loose in his hand at first, brushing lightly against your fingers every now and then as you walk. neither of you rush it. there’s no urgency in the way you move, no pressure to fill the silence. it just unfolds, step by step, breath by breath, your shoulders settling slowly, the tightness easing in increments instead of all at once, like your body’s remembering how to relax. riley riley drifts closer, nudging into your leg, then crosses slightly, the lead shifting with her, looping once around you before you realise, then again around simon. you both pause at the same time, glancing down, taking in the mess she’s made of you both. you blink, then laugh, soft and real, the sound breaking through everything that’s been sitting heavy in your chest. “…she’s looped us together,” you murmur, looking down at the tangled lead. “this is just like 101 dalmatians.”
simon glances from the lead to you, brow furrowing slightly. “…like what?”
you look up at him, surprised. “you haven’t seen 101 dalmatians?”
he shakes his head once, simple, final.
you huff out a quiet laugh, already working the lead loose, fingers careful where it’s looped too tightly. “you’re joking.”
you shake your head, smiling now, warmth coming back properly. “simon, you need to come over sometime. we’re fixing that.”
it slips out easier than you expect, softer, less thought through, and for a second his hands still as you untangle the last loop, his gaze flicking briefly to your face before dropping again. “…yeah?” he says. you nod, still focused on the lead, but the smile lingers. “yeah.”
the lead loosens, falling back into place, riley riley with a wolf like smile as she continues walking.
the moment settles again, softer this time, lighter and then your phone rings. you freeze for half a second before scrambling for it, your chest tightening again, that spike of nerves hitting before you can stop it.
you answer immediately. “hi-yeah-hi.” simon doesn’t say anything, just watches, steady, as you pace a step or two without realising, riley riley following close, her attention fixed on you. “…he did?” you say, brows pulling together, then “…you’re kidding.” there’s a pause, and then your shoulders drop properly this time, like something inside you finally lets go. “…okay. yeah. okay-thank you. thank you so much.” you hang up slowly, staring at your phone for a second like you need to let it settle.
simon tilts his head slightly. “…good news?”
you look up at him, and this time you’re smiling properly. “he coughed it up,” you say, disbelief still threading through it. “the jar. the whole thing.”
simon huffs quietly. “…course he did.”
you laugh, lighter now, relief sitting warm in your chest. “they said he’s just feeling sorry for himself,” you add, shaking your head slightly. “no surgery. they’re keeping him a couple more hours just to make sure he’s okay, but i can pick him up tonight.” the relief settles between you, quiet and steady, and you exhale long and slow like you’ve been holding it the whole time. “…god,” you murmur, more to yourself than anything. “i thought-” you stop before you finish it.
simon nods once, like he knows exactly what you were going to say. “he’s alright,” he says, simple and certain. you nod, and this time it sticks.
riley riley nudges your hand again, tail wagging like she’s proud of herself for getting you through it, and you scratch behind her ears automatically, your smile softer now but real. “…thank you,” you say after a moment, glancing up at simon.
he shrugs like it’s nothing.
“it’s not the first time he’s eaten something he shouldn’t have,” you say, the words coming out uneven despite the small smile you try to hold onto. “i get so worried every time.” a wet laugh slips out of you before you can stop it, the sound catching halfway through, your hand coming up quickly to wipe at your face like you can get ahead of it.
you can’t. not really. it’s too much. not just this. everything. you don’t even realise you’re leaning until you’re already there, until your forehead presses into simon’s chest and your fingers bunch in the fabric of his shirt like you need something solid to hold onto. he moves before you can second guess it, one arm coming up around you, steady and sure, pulling you in without hesitation
your shoulders shake slightly as you let it out in uneven, quiet bursts you can’t quite contain. he doesn’t say anything at first. just holds you. his hand settles against your back, moving slowly.
you pull away first, just slightly, your hands dropping from his shirt like you’ve realised where they are, what you’ve done, your gaze flicking down as you catch the darker patch where your tears have soaked into the fabric. “…sorry,” you mumble, voice rough around the edges as you wipe at your face again, a little embarrassed now. “…i-sorry. i got your shirt.”
he glances down briefly, then back at you, completely unbothered. “…it’ll dry,” he says, simple, like that’s the least important part of this entire moment.
