#SIMON

[luminni]

I have a feeling Johnny would try and set up Simon with one of his friends

like

“M’ tellin ya mate yer going tae like ‘er,” Johnny teased, bounding a couple steps in front of Simon, turning back to him and rocking back and forth on his heels, hands shoved into his pockets to protect them from the cold. As Price often quipped, the 'scott can't stand still for the life of him.'

“Mhm,” Simon just grumbled in response.

“See mate, That’s the attitude that scares all the girls away.” Johnny commented, hands outstretched and exaggerated.

“Whatever.” Simon huffed, shaking his head. Johnny wasn’t wrong, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done anything with a girl that wasn’t a quick lay, and even then it had been months, not to mention going out on a proper date. Well, a date was a stretch, you were Johnny’s close friend for a couple years. He had heard of you, but never met you and now Johnny was insisting that he go on a date with you because he was convinced it was going to work well, Simon wasn’t convinced in the slightest.

“She’s real nice though- so put away the tough guy act big man- girls don’t like that.” Simon couldn’t believe he was getting dating advice from his sergeant, so he just doubled down and kept scowling but Johnny kept pressing. “I'm telling you she's a real sweet girl, kinda lass who would try tae make a crying baby laugh on the tube or go and feed some mangy stray dog, perfect for a prickly bastard like yerself.”

“Okay okay, Jesus. ’s not like ’m going to scare ‘er off on purpose.” Simon relented 

“You better not, gettin' laid might do ya' some good man, calm yer ass down a wee bit” Johnny chuckled

Simon would have yelled at him for that comment but his friend cut him off, “‘Kay we’re ‘ere,” Johnny chirped, “Gaz and his girl should be inside already and she’ll be ‘ere soon,” Johnny said, pushing his Lt. through the pub door.

Johnny had invited Kyle and his girlfriend for a kind of double date situation because he thought having another girl there would help you feel more comfortable, something Simon couldn’t argue with. Why Johnny’s single ass would be attending was a mystery.

and he's been playing both sides

“Ya like serious guys right?” Johnny had asked you out of the blue, a week or so prior while hanging out at your flat.

“Uh yeah sure? I mean I guess so, more than immature assholes like you.” You had joked back across the small kitchen.

“Well,” He had began, unphased by your teasing, “There’s this guy I work with-”

“Don’t even.” you cut him off

“Wha'?!” he whined

“Don’t try and set me up with one of your military bros,” you warned, “I’m not interested.”

“Jus' 'cause yer last dates 'ave been busts doesnae mean you shouldn't keep tryin’,” He pleaded, catching the sponge you threw at him, “He’s a real good guy, kinda intimidating but you’d like him, promise!”

You glared at him before going back and forth, Johnny was really trying to sell this guy, and he wasn’t wrong, your last three dates had been nothing short of disasters. So, after lots of pleading -and a couple tasteful photos from them at the gym- you agreed. So as you walked closer and closer to the pub, your nerves were buzzing. Just gotta get past his tough exterior is all, Johnny’s words of advice rang through your head. Thankfully he had invited another one of his friends there along with his girlfriend, you would have been hyperventilating if it was just going to be you and some guys. As you reached for the door, you could only hope Johnny was right about this guy.

So, who would be surprised when it actually works out, when Simon actually falls in love with you and your sweet smile at first site. When you find his corny and sometimes morbid jokes genuinely funny, having to cough around your drink to prevent spitting it out.

Johnny's just happy Simon might finally chill out, and he won't have to listen to you complain about failed dates every other week.

[leneisback]

No fr, if it he ain't like Simon/Matty then

I DONT WANT IT 😭

i love simon. i want this man. this is my type. grubby menace to society at large but a very big heart and a passion for music. gimme.

[kendzytord]

Part 2 of them being tickled

Oren is gonna be a punching bag later XD

@stephaniestar06

[miwiromantics]

And what if Mike and Will use the same ‘hi’ ‘hi’ method next season just like Narlie and Wilhelmon

[twiliartsdreams2017]

the art for @jazzyrazzy157 and @antonellacat1098

it was a only 2 arts thank you

[catnykit]

HOLY SHIT WHY I DID NOT COMMENT ON THIS ????

MARTINO DROWNING>>>>>>>

AAA BUT LIKE...OMGGG DELTA GO DELTA DELTAAAA

Destroyer - The End

(Masterlist)

well there’s no easy way to say this but this is the end. thank you all for coming along for the ride!

(Content: living weapon whumpee, broken bones, dehumanization, past abuse, fear, conditioning, suicide mention, implied child abuse, physical violence, verbal abuse, choking, drowning, death)

===================

“I cannot work here anymore,” Simon said.

Dr.Martino glared at him with contempt. It was not the first time he had threatened to quit. It was the first time he had done so in front of other people. It was alright, though; Delta didn’t seem to be listening in the first place.

“It’s only for tonight.” Dr.Martino argued, “If you’re going to have a tantrum, you’re not going to do it in my office.”

Dr.Martino extended Delta’s arm. He rotated it to get a better angle at the cast. 

“Are you going to help or not?” He asked.

“No, I’m not helping. Didn’t you have to take an oath before y-“

“You can get out then. Thanks.” Dr.Martino shooed him away. 

Simon left. He slammed the door behind him.

“Crybaby,” Dr.Martino rolled his eyes, “Hold still, Delta.”

“Yes, sir,” Delta answered blankly. 

The saw spun to life. Dr.Martino placed the edge of it to Delta’s cast, pushing through the layers of fiberglass. He ran over it evenly until a straight line had been carved from top to bottom. The saw ran into the cotton below and abruptly stops. The shell popped off. Dr.Martino unwinded the bandages from around his arm.

The wrist had returned to its normal shade, but it was obviously not healed. It still jutted out at an odd angle. 

“Try not to move it.” The doctor shrugged. Delta couldn’t have if he wanted to.

=============

“Your nose!” Sierra gasped as soon as she saw him. The splint had been removed — just for the night. She touched the spot gingerly. Delta visibly winced.

“Oh no,” she whined softly. Delta didn’t think it was that bad, truly. Sierra had an eye for subtle changes in appearance; it was her life’s work. Still, her cooing over him as if he’d been disfigured embarrassed him. 

She went to work anyway. Her primary objective was just to cover up the signs of violence. At this point, that was an endeavor in and of itself. She sponged foundation onto his face, igniting the tender spot where the bone was still healing. It couldn’t be worked around; it was right in the center of his face. He bit his tongue to keep from making noise. 

She hummed, still a little dissatisfied with the end result. Delta could tell from her expression when she was frustrated. Nevertheless, she moved onto wardrobe.

It was all silver. Sierra tended to go for cool colors. They complimented his complexion very nicely. The material looked synthetic, but it reflected the light in a subtle, gentle way. They almost looked like they were made of water. The material was both firm and smooth. It tripped him out the longer he looked at it. Sierra put a simple undershirt beneath, then draped him in the fabric, tying it up around his waist to create a silhouette. It hung loosely off his shoulders.

“Look,” Sierra held up the boots, “I just got these commissioned.”

They were shiny and reflective, with lifts and sharp angles. Delta stepped into them. She laced them up for him.

“I know it’s kinda high fashion. I usually like traditional, but that’s what everyone’s going to be wearing for the Centennial. I thought it’d be fun to try something anachronistic. Fuck with the old guard some.”

She smiled as she looked him over. Almost in apology for her earlier fussing, she presses her nails to her face, “You know you’re my favorite to work with? I swear you can pull off anything.”

Sierra chained his wrists. They were the same shade of silver and too long to be practical as restraints. He couldn’t spread both his arms out, but they didn’t hinder his movement otherwise. They went directly over where the cast had been. He wondered if she even knew. 

There was a light jingling sound as Paris entered. Delta dropped to his knees with a haste that even shocked him. It’d been automatic.

Sierra rushed forward as if he’d been hurt, but quickly stopped herself when she realized what had happened. 

“Your Highness?” she chirped. 

“Hit this,” He held out the wax pen to her. She scurried over, taking it from him. Delta heard her cough a little. Paris laughed.

She mumbled something about vitamin C. Delta couldn’t hear the rest of their conversation, just the outlines of their voices. Sierra’s was excited, if a little weary. Paris spoke casually, if a little stoned. Delta supposed the fact that he was speaking at all was a good sign. 

It took several minutes before either of them even acknowledged him.

“Uh, you can get up,” Paris called. It had been an afterthought. 

Delta slowly rose to his feet. He stole a furtive glance at the prince. He looked…normal. Whatever rage had come over him before seemed to have subsided. All that remained were the bandages up his arm in the place where Delta’s nails had cut into him.

Paris had not spoken to him since that night. There’d been a full week without contact. Delta knew he was avoiding him; he did not know exactly why. 

Sierra needed the space cleared up for her to work with Paris. She skipped past Delta, back into the closet. Paris put a hand on Delta’s shoulder. He flinched instinctively, but the touch wasn’t harsh. Paris guided him to sit down on the steps that partitioned the room. He did so. To his surprise, Paris smoothed his hair back affectionately. Delta glanced up in confusion.

He just barely glimpsed his expression. It had been quick and it had been subtle, but the look Paris had given him was unmistakable. 

It was shame.

Paris withdrew his hand quickly as Sierra emerged from the closet. They resumed their conversation as if nothing had happened. Sierra stripped the shirt from his back to redress him. Delta saw the star-shaped scar right over his heart.

=================

He didn’t like the plan anymore. He’d thought it was shaky in the first place, but as the Centennial drew nearer, the more sick with worry he became.

The ball was hosted on an airship. Everyone needed to board right on the shore before the the craft took off. It would float above the expanse of the Ars Adriatic, mimicking the same flight the forefathers had made to reclaim the disappearing ground. A century later, the land had all been swallowed up by sea anyway. 

The silence dragged on. Paris wasn’t speaking. Delta obviously wasn’t speaking. He hoped his anxiety wasn’t visible — or if it was visible, that its source was masked. After all, Delta was terrified of Paris. He felt it every time he breathed, each time the pain in his lungs ignited. It was just not his most pressing concern at the moment.

He tried to reassure himself. If the plan failed, he’d kill himself midway through. That was the only moral alternative to remaining in Empire’s hands. One way or another, it was ending tonight.

Once inside, Paris chained his collar to the throne, but he himself seemed hesitant to actually sit in it. The Centurion Ball was a tradition older than Paris had been alive. He hadn’t arranged this one more than he had any of the others. The only role he’d played in it was agreeing to show up. Delta caught the look in his eyes — hungry, itching. Paris disappeared for a long time.

===========

He blinked. There was a bat hanging from the ceiling. Delta stared at it, trying to figure out if his eyes were playing tricks on him. He couldn’t have been that tired. Everytime he looked back, it was still hanging there. Nobody else seemed to notice.

Delta watched as its left wing extended. A pale claw emerged against the black fur. It scratched into the support beam, carving out a concave arc. It extended a straight line down, followed by another little circle.

“?”

Delta cupped his left hand into a C-shape. His right hand he could not move much at all, but he returned the symbol as best he could. He watched as the claw retreated. The bat flew out of his sight. Delta’s heart was beating out of his chest.

============

He did not know how much time had passed in between the signal and the execution. He only felt the body drop down behind him and the chill that it carried. It leaned in close to his ear. 

Go.

There was a sharp sound as the axe swung down, severing the chain that connected him to the throne. The dark shape moved in front of him, facing the crowd of partygoers. He bolted. 

The entire ship began to rock at the first impact. Delta stumbled. There was so much noise. He made his way down the corridor, down the same way they had entered the ship. The door to the open air hung wide open. He heard the sound of the ocean below.

“You think you’re clever, don’t you?” The voice rang out. Delta stopped dead in his tracks. It inspired such an ancient terror in him.

Dr.Martino paced down the hallway. Delta flinched back, shaking. He felt like a child again. Martino snatched up the chains of his wrist, dragging him closer. 

“Trying to run out?” Martino slapped him across the face at full force. Delta gasped for air, pulling away from the grasp. Martino’s grip stayed firm.

“I’ve known what you were from the first day I met you,” He hissed, “Snake. Destroyer. We should’ve knifed you in the cradle.”

The whole room shook as another volley was launched at the ship. Delta took the opportunity, letting the bright arcs of lightning come off from his hands, electrocuting the doctor. He freed the chains from his grasp, scrambling towards the exit. Martino chased after him, less careful now. He got a better grip on Delta. Delta threw himself to the floor in response, dragging the doctor down with him. It was a shower of sparks. The open door was so close — there was nothing outside of it. Open air and open water. 

The ship rocked violently. The two of them fell out into the void of night.

==============

The cold cut through him. Immediately, it was the death throes, panic building on panic building on terror. His clothes and his chains tangled up in his limbs. Somehow Martino was still holding out, hurting him. Delta needed air. He was too far beneath the surface. 

The gills on his sides flared out, taking in the icy sea water. It was an entirely new situation, but he felt a primal calm as his oxygen balanced out in the sea water. Martino still writhed, not as fortunate. He clawed out at Delta’s face and arms, shedding his blood into the water. Delta wrapped the chains that bound his wrists around Martino’s neck. The pressure on his broken wrist ached. He was so weak. He was so fucking tired. But all he had to do was hold still. The water would do the rest. After a few minutes, Martino stopped struggling. Delta untangled the chain and let his lifeless body drift down into the abyss. 

Delta looked up. The ship was burning above him. The fire was visible even from several meters underwater.

At the surface, the air smelled like gunpowder. Delta treaded, popping in and out of the sea. The airship was crashing down soon. It was the only ship he saw. Had they already left?

The bat flew a few feet above his head. In the distance, the headlights clicked on. The jet skimmed the surface of the water. It turned around and lowered its ramp into the water. The light inside was bright orange and warm. 

“Find him?” A voice called from inside. Its owner stepped out onto the ramp, soaking his ankles in the sea water. He called out again.

Delta swam forward. The boy inside the ship extended a hand out to him. With his good arm, Delta took it. 

[zetrystan]

I was waiting for this scene at the end of Fionna and Cake.

[simonrileysfavteacup]

You stir awake, sighing as you roll over to face your sleeping husband. You sit up, fixing your stretchy shirt over your very swollen belly. You pat Simon’s side. “Si? Si! Si!”

He groans as he wakes up, rolling over and shoving his head into his pillow. “Go back t’ sleep.”

“I want a big mac.”

He groans louder. 

“Please, Si? I’m super hungry. And bubby keeps kicking.”

He sighs, “Look ‘t the time, lovie.”

You almost tear up. 

When he notices the frown on your face, he sighs again, getting up. “Which one is the closest?”

You smile, almost jumping with joy as you lean up to press a million kisses to his cheek. “The one on 42nd.”

He leans down, kissing your belly and your lips before heading off to get dressed. 

He returns 20 minutes later, a bag and 2 drinks in hand. You practically moan at the smell as he hands you the bag. 

“I love you,” you moan as you take a bite of your burger. He chuckles, eating his own. “Bubby loves you too. He’s kicking every time I take a bite.”

“Bet ‘e does.” Simon kisses your belly as you stuff a few fries in your mouth. “Lovie?”

“Yeah?” you ask with a mouth full. 

“Do ya think he’ll like me?”

“For the millionth time, my love, you are nothing like your father. You’re far too kind and too amazing and too sweet. He’s going to love you. Just like I do.”

He chuckles, “Love you too.”

He leans down, kissing your belly. 

“Both of ya annoying little buggers. Always fuckin’ hungry.”

[certifiedyapperx]

imagine you’re dating ghost and no one knows. the two of you have kept it a secret on your end and his just for your protection— because ghost knows what could happen if someone finds out, how someone might try and target you to get to him, or worse, given his line of work.

but then imagine that he’s on a mission, interrogating some piece of filth ready to decorate the fucking wall with his brain matter when the guy says “you know what, simon, killing me would be the biggest mistake of your life.”

immediately ghost would pause, eyes narrowed, though his hardened demeanour wouldn’t fade much, he’d just blankly stare at the prick like “oh yea? n’ why don’ you tell m’ why.”

the shit-eating grin that would crawl across that fuckers lips would have ghost ready to kill him right then and there, but then he’d say “reach in my pocket. pull out my phone.”

id like to think ghost would have absolutely none of this assholes bullshit, not at all entertained by his theatrics. i’d like to think he’d just press the muzzle of his gun to the fuckers temple within an instant, all teeth barred and ready to get it over with when the guy would add,

“your girlfriend is a fucking beauty, isn’t she?”

everything would pause. ghost, time, the world, air, the universe itself—the life that would drain from ghosts face would almost be enough to make his alias a reality. his heart pounding in his throat, his fingers fucking trembling as he immediately reached into the assholes pocket to find his phone—a picture of a woman tied up (face not in view however) lighting up on the home screen. there’d be no thinking rationally, no thoughts in ghosts head except for making sure you were fucking okay. he’d do whatever he’d have to do, kill the guy, leave him strapped there, whatever—he’d be out of that room in two seconds flat and personally flying the helicopter back to your house calling you nonstop every fucking second until you answered.

“hello? si?”

he’d wait a second before answering. taking everything in. background noises, the inflection of your voice. it sounds calm, maybe too calm? he’s grasping his phone so fucking hard it’s a miracle it hasn’t shattered between his fingers.

“princess,” he breathes, fighting with everything in him to keep his voice steady. “see any birds today?”

though it was a genuine question, it also was an established one. ghost had set up a series of questions for a situation precisely like this. if you said blue jay, it meant you were fine, at home, as usual. if you said crows, it meant you weren’t.

“oh just the usual blue jays, si.” he could almost hear the smile on your lips. “everything okay? i miss you.”

ghost would exhale a shattered breath. “i’m coming home.”

and then he’d show up, not all but a few hours later, hands still trembling slightly, heart rate still struggling to regulate. it was too much, reminding him too much of his past traumas, he knew he needed to find better protection for you, but that was a conversation for another time.

he’d come in the house, barely even taking the time to shut the door behind him, almost frenzied again, relentless, unable to relax until he could finally lay eyes on you. and then, the second he did, he’d just pause and look at you, all messy hair and pyjamas still on, in the kitchen cooking breakfast for you both since you knew he was on his way.

and he wouldn’t say a goddamn word, he’d just come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you so tight you’d hardly be able to breathe, his face buried in your hair and his heart thumping at your back. you’d feel the pain the fear the anxiety radiating off him and you wouldn’t try to say anything because you knew he needed this, you knew he needed to see you, hold you, feel your pulse stable and alive. you knew he just needed a moment to breathe.

and so the two of you would stand there like that for a while, and then he’d take a big inhale and spin you around to face him, pulling up his mask to plant soft kisses on your jaw.

“i love you so fuckin’ much.”

[farmingtime]

"liking raw stuff must be a Gunter thing!" He concluded. He squinted as well, hovering his arm above his head. Then, when he was used to it, he looked around and GASPED.

"do I KNOW YOU, old guy? I feel like I've yoinked something from you before!!!!!!!!!!!"

- THE Snowman ( @farmingtime )

"ugh- stupid hallucinations! im NOT doing this again.." simon rubbed his temples gingerly, annoyance clear in his expression. "and minerva said these would go away with time! psh.."

[victoryverse]

simon can't get over the feel of how tight your cunt gets everytime he comes back from a mission. it's not been stretched in a while, your little fingers or toys are nothing in comparison to his fucking thick length.

"shit" he curses with every thrust, "how do you get so fucking tight every time? jesus christ. just squeezing me, aren't you?"

your mouth would be dropped open, pleasure and pain mixing together, your tight pussy opening up to take him in.

again and again, rough, full thrusts that make you run your nails down his back. he doesn't even react to the pain of that, too focused on opening you up for him.

"shit. gonna have to fuck this pretty cunt every day"

he smirks as he sees you gasp and writhe beneath him, too fucked out to reply.

"multiple times a day too, yeah?"

[luminni]

Can’t stop thinking about how much Simon “Ghost” Riley loves his American girlfriend.

(sorry for this being a 3rd repost, I had an account called Lumi_bunsblog but that one got deleted for some reason so this is the new one now ig lol)

Unlike the other 141 boys he wouldn’t poke fun at you or tease you about the different words you use. Kyle loves to correct you,

“Whens the soccer game on tonight?”

“Its football love, not soccer, ‘cause you kick the ball.”

“You kick the ball in American football as well.”

“Yeah but...ours is better”

Johnny’s a tease

“Have you seen my swimming suit?”

“You wear a suit to go swimming?”

“I’m not calling it a costume”

“Well it sure as hell isn’t a bloody suit”

Even Price gets in on it by pretending not to hear you,

“Can you grab some chips from the kitchen?”

“Hm? Sorry dear can’t hear ya’”

“Grab me some chips!”

“Gunna’ have'ta repeat that”

“....crisps”

“There ya’ go, really outta speak up more sweetheart”

Never mind the fact he was right beside you on the couch.

But Simon, Simon is different. Never once has he corrected or teased you, to the point where its become a bit of a hindrance.

“Can you stop by the gas station on your way home?”

And he’ll just stare at you, an almost blank expression on his face, only the fidgeting of his fingers give way to what he’s thinking.

“The petrol shop Si’”

“Right.” 

Is it because he doesn’t care? Or maybe he’s too frightened he’ll scare you away if he corrects you? Whatever it is he’ll never say, but one thing is for certain, he’s absolutely elated when you start to pick up the British dialect.

You tell people your boyfriend is a leftenant instead of a luitenant and he’s looking at you like you hung the very stars in the sky.

Ask for a “wife beater” while pointing at the bottles of Stella Artois in his fridge and he swears his heart just skipped a beat (despite the crude connotations of the nickname)

Ask him to pick up ‘Maccies for you bolth on the way home and he almost causes a 20 car pileup because he has to hide his burning face.

Tell him you like the black jumper he’s wearing and theres three more in the online cart already.

And when you start swearing like a “proper brit” he’s ready to get down on one knee. He hears you mutter “bloody hell” from across the flat as you listen to news report an expected  10cm of rain for today and for the first time in his life he’s thanking god Manchester is such a dreary place.

You’ve become part of his life, he hadn’t scared you off, you hadn’t gotten tired of him. You wanted to be here, you wanted him. You’ve been here long enough to pick it up, you’ve spent enough time together even your words are beginning to match each other, and theres nothing in the world that could make him happier. So he’ll never once correct you or tease you when you ask to go on a vacation even if he’s blindly nodding along to your requests and scurrying off to the bathroom later to look it up and figure out you wanted to go on holiday with him. Cursing under his breath while he fishes his phone from the sink because he dropped it in his shock at the revelation you wanted to go on holiday with him. Give him two days and he’s already bought the tickets

[kismetarchive]

Simon helps you put on your heels

cw: simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader

"Simon, can you help me love?"

Your back was facing simon, head turned to look at him behind your shoulder.

He was in the middle of buttoning his shirt, a chuckle rumbling out of his chest as he stepped closer to you — calloused hands running along your back, savoring the feeling of his hands on your soft skin. He lowered his head and planted a kiss your shoulder, making the small hairs on the back of your nape rise and a whine fall past your lips.

"Simon." You'd huff out softly, pouting at him for being such a tease.

"Sorry darlin', you just look so beautiful."

He whispered lovingly, planting one more gentle kiss on your exposed shoulder before zipping up your dress.

"You're stunning, love." Simon hummed as he looked at you through the mirror, his hands resting on your hips as he kissed the top of your head.

"We're gonna be late if you keep this up Simon."

"I wouldn't mind that."

You rolled your eyes, wriggling yourself out of his grasp as you walked to where your heels were. Simon followed closely behind, hooking his arm around your waist to stop you from bending down to grab your heels.

"I'll do it for you love."

Simon purred softly, kneeling on one leg as his hands guided your feet to slip into your heels, planting a tender kiss on your knee as you giggled at the soft affection.

"Si—"

You gasped when his lips went further up your leg, immediately grabbing his scalp and pulling him away — a grin on his face as your frowned.

"We can't be late Simon!"

You'd remind him and he'd huff playfully, still smiling as he got up onto his feet and press a kiss on your temple.

"After the party then love?"

"Fine." You'd roll your eyes, but your frown couldn't last when he kept peppering kisses all over your face.

Sneaky bastard, knew exactly how to rile you up and then calm you down. (And he definitely got what he wanted after the party)

「 Masterlist ❤︎ 」

[kendzytord]

I wanna see Simon get destroyed in all of his spots. Please?

I don't understand what you said, but I guess getting tickled? I'm sorry if I'm wrong.

But here ya go, Oren literally torturing Simon from getting tickled, lol

[rotaryphoam]

not sure this one is gonna work out boys