Shuri: You Alright?

Rich people showers

mdni | 18+ | pt. 1

cw/ size difference, dacryphilia, cucking, bi panic, slight dubcon

“It's all right, luv,” Simon whispered reassuringly as he stroked your thigh comfortingly with his thumb. “Johnny doesn’t think your sweet cunt can take me in. You’re just gonna show him that’s not true, yeah?”

You didn’t know what had happened between the two while you were away. But whatever it was made you spread your legs on your boyfriend’s lap, in nothing but your underwear and a spaghetti top, while his best friend watched you two on the small coffee table a few centimeters away.

“Looks like a little dolly on yer lap,” Johnny grunted out as he enjoyed the view in front of him. “Aren’t ya gonna answer Simon, bonnie?”

You nodded a little shyly. You and Simon had been dating for a while now and Johnny’s presence was one you were used to, but not like this - never like this. “…yes, m’sorry.” You mumbled out after Johnny prompted you. Of course you didn't know what to say, your thoughts were probably all over the place right now.

Your boyfriend hummed deeply, causing your skin to prickle with excitement. “Don’t worry about it, you just get a little dumb when I touch you like this, hm? You like being looked at while I do it?” He asked you while his thumb rubbed circles over your clothed clit at the same time.

You nodded slightly embarrassed and turned your eyes away from Johnny, whose gaze was fixed on Simon’s movements. “Hmm, yes...”

“Yeah?” Simon repeated your answer as he spread your leg wider with one hand on your thigh to give his best friend a better view of your cunt. “Let him see a bit more then,” he replied as he grabbed the side of your panties so that he could pull them away from your pussy. He always liked fucking you while you kept them on since they looked so cute on you. Such a stark contrast against his throbbing dick.

Johnny groaned as he caught sight of your puffy little hole and held his cock over his pants as if trying to control himself. “Bloody hell, were ya two fuckin’ last night or why does her cunt look so damn raw?”

Simon tried shoving your panties even further to the side, hooking his other arm under your thigh so he could push your lips apart since he wanted to get a better look. “This morning, actually.” He replied curtly while looking over your shoulder for a second, before lifting your body a little so that he could pull down his sweatpants and boxers. “She should be prepped enough. What do you think mate, should I just tuck it in?” He asked his best friend, talking over you as if you weren’t even there - as if you had no say in anything because you were only here to take what Simon was willing to give you.

You felt yourself getting wetter at the thought and instinctively wanted to close your legs to cause some friction. Though, your boyfriend kept a firm grip on your leg as he waited for a response.

Johnny’s eyes glazed over at how big Simon’s cock was next to your swollen little hole. He watched as he began to rub it with your slick, imagining taking his friends cock deep down his throat so that he could slide into you even easier afterward. “It’s still gonna hurt...” he mumbled to himself, wanting to see it happen.

Simon grunted. “It’s gonna hurt no matter what I do.” He stated. “Even bled like a virgin the first time we did it.”

A groan escaped Johnny’s mouth as he threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut to keep himself from cumming in his pants like a pathetic loser here and now. “Do it then. Force it in her, aye?”

Simon's eyes finally met yours. “You heard him, luv.” Was all he said as he moved your body the way he wanted - as if you really were just his little dolly. He spread your legs wide with his hands before briefly releasing his hold on your body so that he could position his tip at your sensitive opening.

You could already feel the first tears gathering in your eyes when your boyfriend stuffed you bit by bit. He tried to comfort you with his closeness and hushed whispers, but he didn’t slow down even when you begged him to. “Please Si. It hurts, hurts so much. Stop for a second.” You cried out but Simon made no move to comply with your request. “Hush, m‘almost done. Just take the last bit like a good girl and cry some more for me, yeah?” He whispered in a grunting voice, squeezing the rest into you with one last thrust and sighing happily after he felt his hips touch your ass. “Good. Now spread your legs.” He ordered you after he released his grip so that you could shakily show off what was going on between them.

Simon was pleased with your presentation as he pulled your shirt over your breasts so you could look even prettier for them. “You see that Johnny?” He asked him as if he hadn’t been trying not to blink for the last few minutes so that he wouldn’t miss anything. “Pretty girl, took it to the hilt.”

“Aye, looks like ya were right...” He replied and didn’t mind losing the little argument between them. Not in the slightest, he thought while his eyes remained focused on the scene before him.

“Should help her out then since you underestimated her so much, hm?”

I don’t believe I’ve ever posted this analysis I did. XDXDXD

creepily he’s better at drawing Hiccup than I am

This is important hello (x)

white flag ✹ epilogue

note: im kinda sad to say, but this will be the final part of this series! im so so grateful for all the love and support for it, this was honestly so fun to write! i hope everyone enjoys and have a wonderful day/night!!!!<3<3<3

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 1.7k

no use of y/n

reader's callsign is 'stingray'

summary: your night in date with simon :)

warnings: domesticity, so much fluff, soap and gaz are wingmen again, tiny bit of light angst

ao3

【prev】

of all the things in this world that could be considered intimidating, flowers were the last thing simon would put on that list; but the brightly coloured flora seemed to have a paralysing effect on him as he stands in the tiny flower shop.

with a quiet, defeated groan to himself, he dials johnny's number and presses his phone to his ear.

"what flowers am i supposed to buy?" he blurts no sooner than soap picks up, not even bothering to greet him in his haste.

"hello to you too?" johnny mumbles, his confusion evident. a moment passes before he registers what simon asked, "oh! wait," he laughs, his voice getting further away as he lowers his phone to call out, "gaz, get out here! lt.'s buyin' sting flowers!"

simon considers hanging up then and there, but he's severely out of his depth and unfortunately, soap and gaz are his only hope.

"oh i see, he needs an expert opinion, does he?" kyle's teasing gets louder as he approaches soap, and he can hear the smile in both the sergeants' voices.

really, simon should've known they wouldn't let him off easy.

"christ alive…" he keeps his voice as low as possible, pinching the bridge of his nose in the corner of the small shop. "just help me, you pillock." the cashier has been staring at him since he walked in, and honestly, he doesn't blame them; a giant man in a mask isn't exactly the regular clientele for a florist.

"uh, probably their favourite?" soap suggests, the sound of gaz's muffled chuckling just about audible in the background.

"they don't have 'em." simon replies, his eyes darting over the vibrant display one last time in the hopes that the answer would somehow appear.

"nah, you want roses, mate." gaz interjects, and he hears soap make an agreeing noise.

simon hums. "aren't they too… cliché?" he asks, stepping over to the large display of rose bouquets. it's the classic choice, he's aware of that much, but whether or not you'd prefer something more unique was weighing on his mind. this was something he never expected to have to worry about.

"no! they're romantic," gaz insists, his amusement still very evident in his voice, "trust me mate, sting'll love them."

simon contemplates his point for a moment, staring at the deep red petals and trying to imagine the look on your face if he gave them to you. you'd been happy with a handful of squashed flowers he'd stolen from the flowerbeds on base, so he doubted you'd turn your nose up at them. it doesn't take him long to make a decision.

"alright, cheers." he mutters, grabbing a lively looking bouquet of a dozen from the display and making his way over to the cashier – who was quickly trying to pretend they hadn't been staring.

"you'll need to give us a debrief–" soap begins, but he's cut off by simon hanging up and shoving his phone back in his pocket. he gets the feeling he won't be hearing the end of this for quite some time.

✹✹✹

it's only when he's standing outside the door to your room that the nerves finally start to set in. he can't help but feel like an idiot, fidgeting on the spot about to knock on your door like a lovestruck teenager, almost crushing the stems of the roses with his iron grip.

he knocks twice, before he has the chance to change his mind and back out. not even a second later, you're pulling the door open and regarding him with that warm look that has his palms sweating.

you're wearing casual clothes, and so is he, as per the agreement you made to keep this 'date' simple. it doesn't matter what you're wearing though; he's seen you covered head to toe in blood, sweat, mud, and whatever else, and you still manage to be utterly breathtaking in every way.

with a nervous cough, simon holds out the rose bouquet to you, hoping you don't notice the way his hands are shaking.

"wha…" you blink in surprise at the flowers, taking them from him and admiring them with a tiny smile. "you bought these, right? didn't just rip 'em out of someone's garden?" you raise a teasing eyebrow at him, your smile turning more playful.

"yes, i bought them." he grumbles lightheartedly, a smile of his own forming under his balaclava. the way you effortlessly diffuse the tension has his anxieties melting away.

"thank you." you breathe, softly caressing the vermillion petals. "they're lovely, i love them."

simon let's out a quiet sigh of relief at your affirmation. "good; cost me a tenner, they did."

the laugh you let out is like music to his ears. "well, i'm sorry to bankrupt you." you grin, turning back into your room and carefully putting the bouquet in the vase on the mantle. after making sure the arrangement looks nice, you come to stand in front of him again.

simon's not sure how to continue, the nerves from earlier resurfacing as the conversation fades. the way you're watching him expectantly, he feels the urge to take you by the hand – and as if you read his his mind, you hold it out for him. he places his hand in yours, squeezing gently and leading you the short distance to the kitchen.

he'd set the table earlier, having found an only slightly discoloured tablecloth buried in the back of the cupboards. it's a little sad, but it was the best he could come up with.

"wow," you tease, the same playful smile as before on your lips as you meet his eyes, "so fancy."

he snorts, ushering you over to your chair and pulling out for you. "only the best for your majesty." he preens at your happiness when you laugh again, glad for the mask covering what he's sure is an obvious blush.

he occupies himself by grabbing the two plates he'd finished preparing a minute ago, just before he'd met you at your door.

"i made spag bol." simon mutters as he sets them down on the table. he keeps an eye on your expression as he takes his seat opposite you, anticipation of whatever response you may have.

"fine by me," you say, an easy smile lifting your features. "it's almost the perfect candlelit dinner, all we're missing is the candle."

simon blinks. "you don't like candles." he replies, a hint of confusion in his gaze when he meets your eye.

"no," you smile fondly, looking down at your plate. "i don't."

a comfortable silence falls over the room as you both start to eat. the warmth and normality of it all makes simon’s heart swell with affection. he's happy, content, being here with you, even doing something as monotonous as eating dinner. you make it worth enjoying.

"how is it?" he asks once you've both finished, once again waiting apprehensively for your reaction.

"it's great," you give him a lopsided smile, resting your chin on your hand as you look at him. "thanks for cooking."

simon quirks an eyebrow at you. "you don't have to lie." he mutters, feeling the tips of his ears burn under your intense gaze.

"okay, well, don't quit your day job." you chuckle, standing up and making your way over to the sink with your plate in your hands.

he huffs a small laugh, and joins you at the sink with his own plate. "you're crushin' my dreams here."

"sorry, chef." you grin and gesture to the washing up in the sink. "you wash, i'll dry?"

"if your majesty insists."

you turn on the radio for some quiet background noise, and the two of you start cleaning up in tandem. it's nice, how you can work together so seamlessly with no need for words. he's struck again by the thought that if he were alone this would be a chore, but with you beside him, he finds such a tedious job surprisingly pleasant.

simon hands the last dish to you, and as you take it your fingers brush against his hand. the way he flinches away from your touch is unconscious, and when he looks over to you he expects you to pity him, or be offended by his action – but your face holds neither of those things.

you're just drying the dish he handed you, the same content expression on your face that had been there all night, as if you didn't even notice.

"sorry." he mumbles, his gaze falling from your face to your hands as you work.

simon loves you. he shouldn't be afraid of your touch. he wants to touch you, and for you to touch him. he doesn't know why he reacted like that.

"don't be." you utter, soft and compassionate, and his heart feels like it's about to burst out of his chest. for the third time that night, he's hit full force with how wonderful you are.

there's no judgement, no probing questions, nothing. you understood him, even though you had no idea why he acts this way.

you turn away, your back to him as you store the dishes in the cabinets. you hadn't been looking at him before, but now he was sure you couldn't see him, he feels his throat constrict with the overwhelming urge to burst into tears.

simon takes your free hand and you pause, still facing away as you wait for his next move.

he takes a small step closer, minimising the space between you, and rests his forehead against the back of your head. with his eyes screwed shut, he takes a deep breath and inhales the familiar scent of you. his grip on your hand tightens slightly.

you lean back into him, a quiet sigh escaping you as you squeeze his hand in return. neither of you say a word, but you don't have to. he feels how you love him in the way you never expect more from him than he can give.

it's the most peace he's felt in years.

taglist p1: @sofasoap , @siilvan , @mockerycrow , @i-love-ghost , @projectdreamwalker , @achelois-is-here , @adamsloverboy , @thatchickwiththecamera , @chickensandwich69 , @batmanunicorns523 , @tiny-kasper , @dezibou , @pampeop , @cumbermovels , @goth-boi-atlas , @berryjuicyy , @guiltgoreglory , @postmodernrevolutionist , @untoldshortsofthefandoms , @delilah-grimes , @sunflowerqueen1416 , @luvssemma , @sunshiinegaz , @imonmykneessir , @kenz-ee , @eistro-phobia , @rzmarona , @alanalanalanalanalanna , @cathnoneofyourbusiness ,

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Moss Graffiti: A How To Guide

Be aware

REBLOG ESPECIALLY MY DMV FOLLOWERS

a collection of the best captain america memes so far

talking to my husband about Chris Evans...

Me: They like to call Chris Evans the Dorito because of his shoulder to waist ratio. He's shaped like a triangle.

My husband: They should call him the Bermuda Triangle because the ladies wanna get lost in him.

He’s come so far I’m amazed