#YOU CANNOT GIVE ME LOVE ISLAND | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writing-mlm · 1 month ago

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Will you love me again?

Summary: Simon’s returned home after 20 years but the suitors have finally grown restless of waiting for you to pick a new King of Ithaca. Pairing: King!Simon Riley x King!Ftm!reader Wc: 6.1k Tags/Warning: Canon-level violence, talks/planning of S/A, Epic the Musical Ithaca Saga spoilers! Most of the words are literally lyrics so ig song fic, oral (r!receiving), fingering, stomach bulge, reader has a vagina, no protection, creampie

His skin remembers the touch of your lips, the way they’d press against his tense muscles, the way they’d kiss his scars and carry soft whispers and songs. How your hands would touch him, run up his arms, cradle his face, and remove his helmet. He remembers the sound of your voice, how you’d talk to him while weaving against the window, your kingdom standing below your castle.

The castle he’d built all those years ago as a declaration of his love for you. A castle that grew colder as the years stretched on since he’s been there; taken away for a war.

A war, born from a greedy man kidnapping your cousin. A war Simon hadn’t wanted to participate in because, despite his oath to your cousin's husband, the Trojans have never helped Ithaca in their times of need. And even more so, he had you, his husband, and your newborn to watch over. To protect. He’d only agreed to help after he’d been tricked.

A war that was supposed to be no more than five years had turned into a twenty-year journey. He’d left a twenty-year-old, rising to power in Ithaca with a newborn son. Now he’s forty, his home just out of sight, and his son would be twenty. He imagines how you must look now. How your hair must’ve greyed, how you picked the hyacinths and bluebells from the garden.

He wonders how his son is doing, what he likes, and what he’s accomplished. How he’s missed his whole life.

Simon strains as he pushes the raft from the island, the goddess he left on the sandy shores crying for him. Begging him to stay; she loves him. He loathes her. He loathes the years he’s stayed trapped on that island, how she’d been persistent on loving him. Gods, provided she wasn’t a goddess, he would’ve killed her the first time she even hinted at such.

His head hurts when he remembers his fallen friends; Gaz, Price— and Johnny. He’d gotten his brother killed, he let all of them, all six hundred men die under his watch. The cyclops, Scylla, Circe— Zeus, Poseidon. He recognizes the pain turning into red-hot anger as he pushes past Charybdis. These past years cannot have been in vain. The souls that haunt his dreams won’t have died in vain.

He’ll make it home, he’s sure of that.

—

You stare at the suitors gathered at the palace gates, angry men eager to become the next king one way or another. All the while your son, Johnny, stands in front of them with a spear and your old armor. You know that look in his eyes, that Athena's determination he has because Simon had it, too.

You sigh, undoing the threads you’d made the day before. For the funeral shroud you’ve been making for ten years with the promise that once it’s done, you’ll pick from the suitors and give Ithaca a new king. You almost laugh when you remember how many years ago that had been now. How foolish the suitors had been to agree to your demand. How you fear you’ll have to finish it one of these days.

You look at your sword hung in the corner of the room. You remember your newly made armor, tucked in your closet, the new bow and arrow next to it. You remember the feeling of warm blood on your hands.

Even if you must finish the shroud they’ll never get their wishes. No one will rule alongside you and if you must, you’ll take a queen. Perhaps some common woman with nothing better to do; drown her with all the things a queen would desire all the while you continue your duties as king.

Standing, you close the curtains to the window and grab your sword. It feels like home in your hands, reminders of your time as a warrior of Sparta and then Ithaca. You’ve never forgotten your lessons, the teachings so ingrained in your very being they feel like second nature when you swipe the air.

It’ll need to be sharpened before tomorrow.

That night a storm rages on the coast of Ithaca. You watch from the balcony, the wind blowing your hair and clothes as you try to see inside of the storm. Poseidon fights, you can tell that much, and gods, you know in your bones. You know it’s time to set your plan in motion.

You call a maid to send the news; the Challenge you’d set up after five years of Simon being gone was happening. You rush to gather Simon’s old bow, carefully undoing the string while the servants gather twelve axes from the armory.

—

“I’ll be back soon,” Johnny promises the next morning. You stand at the pier, watching as he loads onto a boat; about to head off for a mission for the kingdom.

“I know you will,” You smile, giving him a dagger that he places on his thigh strap. You don’t pretend to notice the group of angry suitors hiding behind ships, watching as you watch your son leave. Leaving you alone for who knows how long, the mission shouldn’t take longer than a day, though.

As the ship leaves, you look at where the storm had raged, sure that you see a small object floating towards Ithaca shores. You smile, hanging your head before thanking whatever God had allowed him home and return to the castle. The suitors follow, ready for the challenge you’d sent messengers to talk about that morning. You ride your horse back, letting them climb the mountain to the castle as you prepare for what’s to come.

Their footsteps are heavy, echoing in the halls as a maid guides them to the throne room. You sit at your throne, the half-finished shroud draped over Simon’s throne. His crown sits under it, shining like the first day it was made. A reminder to them and yourself that your husband is out there, that they’ll never sit on that throne as long as you’re alive.

As you look around, you inhale and look over the crowd of men. There are dozens of them, some bigger, some smaller. All of them hungry for power, all of them greedy in a way that makes your stomach turn.

You stand, shoulders back and head held high as hold back a deep, etching frown.

“The Challenge,” You start as the murmurs die into a silence that had overtaken the castle all those years ago. You grip the bow, raising it in the air for everyone to see. “Whoever can string my husband's old bow and shoot through twelve axes cleanly,” Your gaze travels to the axes, lined up in a straight line, the hole only just big enough to allow an arrow to slide through. “Will be the new king and rule with me.” Cheers echo through the halls and you hand the bow to the first suitor before you take your seat. Your throne.

You hope Simon knows that you’re buying him time; that you’ve bought him twenty years of time to return. That he’ll climb the mountain from the shores to the castle before they grow behind restless. Bloodthirsty with one goal on their mind. You hope your son doesn’t come back to see you in such a state if Simon doesn’t make it on time.

They grow more frustrated as the hours tick by and they find that no one can string the bow. Eventually, the sun sets and you tell them they can try again tomorrow. They all agree, with some grumbles and you take the bow back from a suitor who bares his teeth at you. He resembles a beast, a beast that you don’t dignify with a reaction.

—

“Screw this competition,” A man that Simon knows all too well, Graves, snarls as he tosses his old bow to the ground. “We’ve been here for hours. None of us can string this; we don’t have the power. Screw this damn challenge!” He rakes his hands through his hair, the stress clear in his actions that make Simon proud. Of course, you’d set up something only he could do, of course, you’d waited all these years for him to return.

“No more delay. Don’t you see that we’ve been played?” Grave’s eyes travel amongst the men crowded around him. Men that are so easily swayed by simple words that it makes Simon seethe. “This is how he holds us down as the throne gets colder. Hold us down as we slowly age. Hold us down while the boy gets bolder.” Grave continues, daring to even hint about Simon and your son. “Where the hell is our pride and our rage?” A couple of the men agree, egged on by each other's stupidity.

“Here and now,” Another man says as Grave smirks; clearly his plan is working. Like a moth to a flame, they take his bait. “There’s a chance for action; we can take control. Here and now we can burn it to ashes.” Too big for his pants, Simon assumes.

He leaves for a moment, gathering their weapons and hiding them in the armory, making sure to leave it unlocked before he returns to their conversation. By that point more men had gathered; you’d long since left the throne room so Simon didn’t worry about you hearing their voices any longer.

“Haven’t you noticed who’s missing? Don’t you notice the prince is not around? I heard he’s on a diplomatic mission and I heard today he's coming back to town.” Grave continues, and crosses his arms over his chest. Simon’s eyes dart down from his place in the room, overlooking the shores of Ithaca as a boat slowly approaches.

“So…?” A different man speaks from somewhere in the crowd.

“I say we gather near the beaches. We wait till he arrives, then when he docks his ship I say we breach it. Let us leave now, today we can strike!” Grave doesn’t feel the sharp glare that hits his head as he speaks. Unaware that his words have just set his fate into motion; a fate that Simon has become oh so familiar with these past twenty years.

“Hold him down, till the boy stops shaking.”

He counts the men; seventy in total.

“Hold him down, while I slit his throat.”

He’s taken down worse. More.

“Hold him down, while I slowly break his pride, his trust, his faith, and his bones!”

He can’t wait to watch them bleed. The feeling of their blood on his hands; something he hadn’t realized could feel so good until now. He wanted to chase it like they plan on chasing you and your son.

“Cut him down into tiny pieces. Throw him down in the great below that way when the crown wonders where the prince is only the ocean and I will know.”

Watch their light leave their eyes; hear their screams. Beg him to spare them. The gurgling sound as they choke on their own blood.

“And when it’s done,” Grace smirks. “The king will have no one to stop us from breaking his bedroom door. Stop us from taking his love and more. And then we’ll…”

He’ll savor Graves the most, he quickly decides. He won’t dignify him with a fast death. He’ll hurt him, hold him down, and break his bones. He’ll drag him by his legs into town, parading him around to not only show he’s home to his throne, to his husband and his son but to show that anyone who had thought any different will face the same consequences.

“Hold him down.”

“While the gate is open.”

“Hold him down.”

“While I get a taste and we share his spoils. I will not let any part go to waste.”

He rises from his spot, his hand a deathly grip on his knife as the men try to leave the halls, one of them pointedly staggering behind. Drunk on wine. The perfect way to announce himself.

He doesn’t waste a second, stabbing the man in the throat and he watches as he gurgles on his own blood as he returns to his perfectly hidden spot. He watches with glee as the light leaves his eyes, staring down at him as his body goes limp.

The men stop at the door, having heard the noise. When they turn they only see a dead man and then nothing around him. Quicker than they can react, the torches around them snuff out one by one, and then the door behind them locks. Like rats they scramble, searching frantically on the ground for anything they can use to defend themselves.

“Twenty years,” Simon growls. “I suffered from the wrath of Gods and monsters to the screams of my comrades. Watched my men die like cattle. I come back to my palace, desecrated and sacked like Troy. Worst of all,” He reaches into the darkness, grabbing a random man who shouts, tugging at Simon’s wrist to be let go.

“I hear you dare to touch my husband and hurt my boy! I… have had… enough.” He snaps the man’s neck in three motions before stepping over his now limp body as he watches the men scramble in the dark. He supposes he should thank Calypso for living on such a dark island, now he can watch them as they scramble for torches. Lighting them with the nearby lighters.

He grabs his bow, stringing it with ease while the others run in the castle. The darkness that shrouds them is emphasized by the setting sun. Simon struts after them, listening to their footsteps and breathing like a predator.

“We have the advantage; we’ve the numbers and the might.” A man says, clearly not knowing who he’s up against.

“No!” Shouts a man who does, he wonders if they fought together before. Somehow that makes him all the more angry as he grabs an arrow from his quiver. “You don’t understand! This man plans for every fight.” An arrow flies through the air, stabbing him through the neck and the others shout, watching as he drops and the torch rolls away from his limp hand. Everyone scrambles away, fleeing down the hall.

“Where is he? Where is he?” Someone shouts, his eyes as wide as they can go and he looks into the darkness.

“Keep your heads down, he's aiming for the torches!” Someone else hisses and they all duck, holding the torches as high as they can manage without dropping it.

“Our weapons! They’re missing!” Simon grins at the fear in the man’s tone, stringing another arrow.

“We’re empty-handed,” Someone says, the realization that they’re fucked dawning on him. “Up against an archer.” He mutters, looking around the dark room.

“Our only chance is to strike him in the darkness. We know these halls our odds can be titled.” Someone tries to comfort him before flinching at the sound of Simon’s snicker.

“You don’t think I know my own palace? I built it!” Another arrow flies, hitting a man in the head. He walks after them as they run away.

“It’s the old king!”

“No! Our leader is dead!”

“Old king forgive us!”

“Let’s have open arms instead!” He stops walking, notching yet another arrow as he’s reminded of Gaz. His chest tightens when he remembers his friend, his brother.

“No,” The arrow flies, he doesn’t care to see who it lands inside of. He knows Graves isn’t with this group and heads the other way; towards where he’d hidden their weapons. He’ll deal with the others later, for now only one person has a giant target on their back.

“Dammit,” Grave hisses as he opens the door to the armory. “He’s more cunning than I thought. While we were plotting he hid our weapons in here.” He waves the torch through the room, each weapon highlighted by the burning flame.

“I find it hard to believe that the sharpest of kings left his armory unlocked,” A man mutters, his frantic eyes looking outside of the room because he knows what’s out there, waiting for him.

“So what?” Grave scoffs as he grabs his sword. “Let’s make the bastard rot.”

“Behind you!” He spins, watching as Simon stabs a man through the chest with a sword, his piercing eyes glaring at Graves over the man’s shoulder. The man collapses to the floor while Simon takes the sword out, flicking the blood onto the walls.

“Put the weapons down and I’ll spare you,” He tells the men and immediately they do but Graves doesn’t. Simon tilts his head, eyes flickering to the ten men around Graves.

“How do you dare? Haven’t you seen what he’ll do to us?” Someone asks him, his hands held up in fear.

“The prince!” Someone shouts and Simon makes the mistake of looking behind him. The men in the armory jump on his back without hesitation, shouting to attack the prince that way he’ll have to stand down. Simon struggles against them, his sword clattering to the ground when he sees the torches illuminating his son.

He chokes as he sees his son falling to the ground, scrambling to his dagger that had gotten thrown in the fight.

“Stop struggling and we’ll show you mercy,” Grave whispers in Simon’s ear, holding his hair in an iron-tight grip.

“Mercy?” A voice cuts and Simon feels blood running down his cloak. He hears the sound of someone being impaled and then another in quick succession. The weight on his back lessens and he charges forward.

“Mercy?” Simon bellows, taking harsh steps toward the now-fallen Graves. Unable to find his footing again as more men die around him. “My mercy long since drowned. It died to bring me home. And as long as you're around my family's fate is left unknown. You plotted to kill my son.” In one motion he scoops Graves up, bringing him to his feet and then against the wall. The tip of his blade presses against the man’s neck as his eyes squeeze shut, feet trying to find purchase aside from the tips of his toes on the cold marble floors.

“You planned to rape my husband! All of you are going to die!” He stabs Graves six times, huffing as the body slumps against him and then against the wall when Simon shoves him away.

He stands tall, listening to the shouts of the scared, trapped men as their fates quickly find them. He knows who is fighting at his side; he knows so well but he doesn’t register it until everyone is dead. Until the torches line the walls and he sees his foes splayed on the floors.

“Father?” The sword in his hand clatters to the ground as he spins around. Johnny stands where he was once pinned down, blood dusting his tunic and his face. None of which is his own, Simon thanks the gods for that fact.

“Son,” His voice cracks as he takes a step forward. His chest heaves as he looks at his boy, and how he’s grown into a man. Johnny rushes forward, pulling him into a hug.

“I’ve waited my whole life for you. Twenty years,” He cries into Simon’s chest, his sobs growing as he feels his father's tight embrace.

“Oh my son, look how much you’ve grown,” He whispers, fighting back his own tears. “Oh, my boy. My sweetest joy. I captured the wind and sky for you.”

“My son, I'm finally home.” He finally cries, looking at his son's face for the first time in twenty years. He sees you in him, he sees himself. Simon presses his forehead to Johnny’s, holding the back of his neck as he cries. He cries and he weeps, relief, something he hasn’t felt in years, floods his body as all of the suffering he’s endured has been worth it.

“My love?” He hates to look away but he does, his chest tight when he sees you removing your helmet. Your sword stuck in some man’s chest as your feet carried you across the hall and into his arms.

He calls you, your name falling from his lips and you cry into his neck. You’d nearly forgotten the sound of it on his tongue.

“Is it you?” You ask, pushing away from him after the initial shock. He’d warned you all those years ago, not to trust anyone who looked like him. He knew the Gods and their tricks; you knew them, too. “Have my prayers been answered? Or am I dreaming again?”

“I am no’ the man you fell in love with,” He admits as your eyes scan over him. You pick apart everything about him that’s changed over the years as doubt creeps in the back of your mind. “I am not the man you once adored; I am not your kind and gentle husband and I am not the love you knew before.” You frown as he takes your hands, falling to his knees before looking up at you. With a gaze, you tell Johnny to leave the two of you for now.

“Would you fall in love with me again if you knew all I’ve done? The things I cannot change. Would you love me all the same? I know that you’ve been waiting for love.” He begs, his bleary eyes unable to look at anything but you.

You nod, holding his face before guiding him up to his feet. “What kind of things did you do?” His head dips down in shame as the two of you move to stand outside in your garden. Free of blood and bodies as you sit under the olive tree he’d planted for you all those years ago.

“Left a trail of blood on every island. I traded friends as though they were objects. Hurt more lives than I can count. But all so I could come back to you.” He cries, holding your face, his cries growing as you lean into the touch. “Tell me, please. Would you fall in love with me again?”

“If that’s true,” You start, moving his hand from your face and he falters, eyes darting between yours as if they’ll reveal your choice before your voice does. “Could you do me a favor?”

“Anything,” He nods.

“Just a moment of labor that would bring me some peace. See that wedding bed? Could you carry it over? Lift it high on your shoulders and take it far from here?” You ask, your eyes darting between his own as you wait. Wait as you’ve done for twenty long years.

“How could you say this?” He asks, his hand moving from your face. “I built that wedding bed with my blood and sweat. Carved it into the olive tree where we first met. A symbol of our love everlasting! Do you realize what you have asked me? The only way to move it is to cut it from its roots!” He shouts, almost standing due to the anger bubbling in him.

“Only my husband knew that!” You sob, holding his hands again. “You’re real! My Gods, you’re real!” He calls your name as you shudder. You shake your head, pulling him close as your hands search his body, holding him impossibly close.

“I will fall in love with you over and over again. I don’t care how, where, or when. No matter how long it’s been. You’re mine. Don’t tell me you’re not the same person, you’re always my husband and I’ve been waiting for you!” He blinks, brushing your tears from your face before he kisses you.

You crumble under his touch, your hands shaking as you cradle his face. He holds you tightly, pressing your armored chest flush against himself. You pull away first, tucking his now long blonde hair behind his ears to see his face properly.

—

You don’t get a chance to admire the new Simon, not between the kissing and his insisting that you share the bed with Johnny for the night. You agree, of course, the two of you squishing Simon while he happily holds the two of you in his arms as the night draws on.

Simon wakes up first, he’s gotten so used to being forced to share a bed with Calypso that he’d made his body wake up early to escape her. He looks at you and Johnny for a while, softly crying as he knows he’s home. Eventually, he gets up, hating the way the two of you whimper at the lost feeling between the two of you.

He doesn’t venture far, just far enough to grab a bowl of water and a blade. Settling in front of a mirror, he shaves his face for the first time since he set out to Troy and then cuts his hair. He’s never seen his grey hairs before. Despite knowing that he was aging while he was out there he hadn’t realized he was aging. He wasn’t twenty anymore, he certainly didn’t look it either.

He has scars on his face, he has grey hairs, he has the starts of wrinkles, eye bags— he could list them for hours.

He looks back at you as you sleep. At your grey hairs, at your wrinkles and he smiles. You’re just as beautiful as the day he met you.

Stepping towards the window he sees the castle workers dragging the bodies out of the castle and into a carriage. Tossing them unceremoniously and he makes his way down.

“Load them and wait. Do not touch them any further,” He tells one of the maids without looking at her, his gaze locked on the men who had dared to try and defile his family. “Send word to the people of Ithaca. Meet at the pier by noon.” She nods, waiting to be dismissed by the king but he turns on his heel and returns to your room.

You’re awake, rubbing your eyes as your sleepwear slips from your shoulder.

“Did I wake you?” He asks, crawling into the bed and kissing the exposed skin. You roll your head at the feeling, holding the back of his head to keep him in place.

“No,” You murmur, head against his. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” He pulls you onto his lap and you let him, too tired to fight back as he lays down again. “Trust me, ‘m not leaving ever again.”

“I like the sound of that,” You yawn, rubbing Johnny’s hair as he reaches out for the two of you. “We need to get up, though. Clean the halls,”

“Already taken care of, love.” You hum, head resting on his bare chest, fingers tracing against his skin.

“You cut your hair,” You point out.

“Mhmm, like it?”

“Ask me later; ‘m too tired.” He chuckles and pets your cheek with his knuckles.

“Rest my love, I’m not going anywhere.”

The next time you wake up, he’s engrossed in a conversation with Johnny. He’s still holding you, but now it’s sitting up on the bed while Johnny all but bounces around the room. He talks about his own adventures with Athena, how he’d almost beat up Graves this one time, how you always kept a place for him. He talks about the stories he grew up hearing about the great King Simon of Ithaca.

Simon listens, committing his son's voice to memory while he inhales the smell of your hair.

A knock at the door stops their conversation and Simon calls for whoever it is to come in as he pulls the blanket over your body.

“It is nearly noon, King Simon.”

“Thank you,” He nods, watching the door close before he looks down at you. “How long have you been awake?” He chides upon seeing your very much awake eyes on him.

“Long enough,” You respond but make no action to move. “What’s at noon?”

“You’ll see.” He lifts you with ease, picking himself up in the process and you laugh, holding onto his shoulders while Johnny gags and rushes out of the room.

In the tub, Simon sits first, letting you slowly sit with him before he kisses you. His lips and teeth pull and suck at the skin of your neck while you coo, squeezing his shoulders. The cold water wakes you up more than the kisses do, but when his hand dives between your legs you swear you’re more than awake.

“Mmm-mm,” You shake your head as you reluctantly push his hands away, he pouts but doesn’t fight it. “I want it to be in bed. To reclaim it,” His pupils dilate at the idea, you feel his pulse against his wrist and you grin, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I can do that,” He nods, instead moving his hands to start washing the two of you.

The two of you dress together in your finest tunics, adorning yourselves in the royal jewelry and colors before getting Johnny from his room. Again, Simon finds himself between the two of you as you head down to your horses. Even more so when you’re all squished into a chariot.

The wagon of dead bodies follows behind you, the smell of death present as the townspeople watch. People gasp at the sight of Simon, and whispers of the long-since departed king's return echo throughout Ithaca.

Simon steps onto the platform, bringing you up with him and you stand next to him while Johnny stands in front of the two of you.

He starts a speech, making a point about the dead men. He talks of the disrespect to his house– to his family. He dares someone else to try to ruin his family, to hurt his son, his husband. He declares himself back, the two kings of Ithaca ruling again. Merciful, he calls the act of bloodshed the two of you had committed the night before. He calls the men’s mothers, their fathers, their wives, their children. He tells them they can weave their funeral shroud for them. Or else he’ll burn them to keep your room warm.

He watches as they collect their sons, their husbands, and their fathers. He holds you close, fingers a bruising grip against your waist.

The two of you head back; Johnny stays behind to venture around the kingdom. You think it’s so the two of you can be alone for a little while.

—

“I’ve missed you, husband,” Simon says, his head between your legs. He’s thrown them over his shoulders, his hands kneading the flesh of your stomach. He’s dreamt of this sight for two decades and yearned to dive his head between your legs again. Savoring the taste, feeling the way you’d clench around him.

“I’ve missed you, husband,” You parrot, reaching down to hold his chin. He leans into the warm touch, eyes closing as he savors it. You trail your hand up, holding his hair as he dives down. You gasp when he presses his tongue flat against you, slowly dragging up and down while watching you.

“I’m yours,” He murmurs, pressing sloppy kisses against your warmth while you twitch under his hold. “Only yours.” You pant, holding the cotton sheets for a reprise as his tongue makes figure eights around you, how he sucks and nips at your sensitive bud. He moves, sliding a finger into you; his eyes stuck on your face as your back arches. It’s an adjustment, just as it had been the first time you’d done this.

Your body had almost forgotten the feeling of his fingers inside of you, how skillful they’d been during your marriage. How he knew your body inside and out, what points to press on, and how fast to go. He maintains a rhythm that makes you cry, your arm across your eyes as you try to compose yourself. Not let yourself come undone so fast.

“Simon,” You breathe, trying to get to your elbows but he starts moving his finger. He's pushing and pulling, curling inside of you and it makes you fall back on the bed. He shudders, that tone in your voice, that feeling on his finger, the taste on his tongue. It’s all he’s ever wanted; it’s what kept him going all these years. “I need you,” You cry, eyes closed as your stomach tightens. He adds another finger, the added pressure makes your jaw drop.

“You have me,” He swears. “Look at me, please,” You try, honestly you do, but the tightness reaches a high and your eyes screw shut. Your fingers tighten around his hair, your voice echoes in the room and Simon feels you clench around him. He almost laughs, not because it hadn’t taken much to push you to the edge but because he’d already come. It hadn’t taken anything, all it took was you saying his name and he spilled into the bedsheets.

“You okay, moon?” He asks while crawling on top of you, his lips leaving scattered kisses across your body. You nod, face blissed out and eyes watery. “Can you take another?”

“I can take a million more,” You breathe and he laughs, head dropping between your neck. You laugh along, legs raising as he bites your skin. He moves so he’s holding himself up with one hand, his other grabs his dick as it hardens again.

“You sure?” He asks and you nod, kissing his shoulder.

“I can take it,” You moan, feeling the tip move across your folds. It slips and prods before he eventually pushes inside in one fluid motion. Your back arches, pushing your chest against his as he fills you.

“Full, ‘m so full,” You pant against him and he nods, moving your hair from your face.

“Full ‘n’ tight f’ me, yeah?” He teases, slowly rolling his hips against yours. He relishes in watching your expressions, how your mouth drops open and you’re unable to control the sounds you make. “Waited so long f’ me, didn’t you?” As he’s speaking, he raises up from you, his right hand holding your stomach down while the left starts rubbing soft circles on your clit. “So patient, my love. Thank you.”

His eyes dip down, looking at the bulge in your stomach as he slowly enters and exits you. He moans at the sight, eyes closing for a brief moment as he begins to pick up pace. You struggle to look at him, one hand holding the wooden headboard behind you while the other loosely holds the wrist that’s circling you.

“Missed you s’much,” He moans. “Missed all of you.” He slurs, leaning down to kiss you. He bites your bottom lip before his lips capture yours, his hips pressing against your own with each thrust. “Gods, you’re so tight.” He grunts as he pulls away, moving your left leg to be over his shoulder while the right leg sits at his hip. He speeds up, twitching as your moans only grow louder. Your nails drag against his chest and circle to his back.

He feels his scars under your nails, the sensitive skin prickling hot as you open his flesh. He hisses, the pain far easier to manage than anything he’s faced while away but so different. So loving.

“Inside me,” You moan, finally able to look at him as you bite your bottom lip. It’s throbbing from the pain of him biting it but you don’t care. “Inside me, Si, please.”

“Who am I to deny you, my king?” He grins and then drops his head down to your neck, feeling your walls tighten around him. You hear him whimper and moan against you and it only eggs you on. He’d chased that feeling for years, spilling inside of you as your high starts approaching. He continues for you, continuing his bruising pace until your body stops moving, your mouth falls open and your breathing goes ragged. Tenderly, as he always used to do, Simon holds you close to him. Your head rests against his chest so you can listen and feel his heart beating against your ear.

His hand stops circling your clit as he slowly pulls out from inside you. The sounds that come from him and you spur him on more but he contains himself. Instead, he watches as his cum leaks from you. On instinct, he pushes it back inside, loving the way your legs twitch when he does.

“Do you need a break?” He asks, eyeing the sweat on your brow. You inhale, thinking about it before shaking your head.

“I can take more,” You swear and he raises his eyebrow. “Please, Simon.”

“Your wish is my command.”

#x male reader #x reader #simon riley x male reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x ftm reader #ftm reader #simon riley x trans reader #trans reader #simon riley smut #ftm reader smut #simon riley x you #ghost x male reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x y/n

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maybank5 · 3 months ago

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𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭

pairing ⤜ yn x jj / yn x rafe cameron

request ⤜ "something where JJ flirts with Topper’s sister, who’s super sweet with everyone and really fun to hang out with, not knowing she’s Rafe’s girl"

a/n ⤜ aww thank you babe for the lovely message and my first ever request!! it kinda took on a life of it's own, and i hope that's alright!!! also i cannot write rafe and jj without rafe being The Bad Guy so i hope you don't mind! i hope it turned out good for you and that you enjoy it a lot! sending hugs and love to you xx

song inspo ⤜ whiskey don't cheat, jay webb

"One whiskey please."

"On the rocks?"

"Excuse me?"

The man behind the bar squints at you, "You sure you're old enough to be here?"

"Of course," you flick your long hair over one shoulder, sit up straighter, hope you blend in well enough. It's just this isn't your usual place, and you know you must stand out like a sore thumb. From the look he's giving you, it's clear you don't belong. You reach into your purse and slap your ID down on the sticky wooden bar counter.

"Mm," he glances at the date, slides it back to you, "Have you ever even had whiskey before, princess?"

You frown, "No. But I'd like one whiskey please. To start."

"To start," his brows shoot up and he lets out a little bemused chuckle, "Alright. One whiskey, coming up. Never did determine if you'd like that on the rocks or not."

"On the rocks," you confirm, "And...can I get a couple maraschino cherries in that."

An amused smile crosses the bartender's face as he turns to prepare your drink. "Sure thing."

You put your elbows up on the bar, twist the gold ring around your thumb, before lowering your arms and crossing your hands in your lap. You feel awkward and out of place. Everyone else here is dressed so casually, and here you sit in your white sundress and heeled sandals. This isn't your usual side of the island, but you needed to get away, find some place to go where Rafe and your brother can't track you down; somewhere where no one will report back to either of them that they saw you throwing drinks back at a bar.

Sometimes it feels like there's no escape. Why you ever got with your brother's best friend is beyond you. The two of them report back to each other and discuss you like you're some sort of specimen. It still makes you queasy knowing that right after your first time, Rafe had texted Topper. Sometimes you just wanted to run away and leave them both in the dust.

So you'd come here, to this side of the island, to The Cut. You'd been here a few times before. You knew a few people that lived on this side. Had met a girl named Kiara at a Beach Clean-Up Weekend awhile ago, and she'd been really sweet. Then there was Sarah Cameron, infamous in the gossip among the Country Club. Rafe's sister who'd left, who'd gotten out. You would never admit it to anyone, but sometimes hearing the ladies gossip about her over their long island iced teas and games of bridge made you jealous. What would that be like...to run away from it all and leave it all behind?

You jolt as a glass is set down in front of you, three maraschino cherries speared with a plastic sword floating on the top.

"Thank you." You take a sip and immediately cough. It tastes like cough syrup and you can't help but wince.

"Need something lighter, princess?"

You look up at the bartender with a scowl. "No," you say, determinedly, "This is fine." And as if to prove something to him, you take another sip. It burns, but you don't cough this time.

"So you wanna tell me what's got a girl like you in a place like this, drinking a drink like that?" The bartender wipes his hands on a rag hanging from his pocket, leans his elbows on the bar in front of you. A little bit too close for comfort. You raise your eyes and get lost in the blueness of his. He's looking at you so intently. Rafe used to look at you like that, once upon a time. Now, you feel like you're barely even a blip on his radar. It makes you squirm to be under someone's attention like that.

"No," you say, "It's none of your business."

"Point taken," he raises his hands in surrender, backs off, and leaves you to your drink.

You felt like an idiot. You'd known you and Rafe weren't exclusive. Still though, you didn't realize that he was out running around sleeping with a bunch of other girls from Figure Eight, right under your nose, until that night. You felt cheap. Like a joke. Like everyone was laughing at a joke behind your back at your expense. And worse...Topper had known and hadn't said anything. Because why would he? When it came to "the boys" you knew you were not even a priority.

You finish off your whiskey, and another bartender comes over. "Another one, miss?" He asks.

"No thank you," you say, feeling already a little floaty from the first, "I think I'm ready for my bill."

"Sure thing." He disappears to the register and you put your forehead against your hand. You always were a lightweight when it came to drinking, and the hardest thing you'd ever had was champagne at New Year's. You pay your tab and head out. You spot the first bartender on his smoke break, sitting up on the wooden patio balcony. Something in your stirs, and before you can stop yourself, you make your way over to him. You jump up on the balcony, sitting on the other side of the column from him.

"Hey," he turns to face you, brows pulled together.

"Just...don't say anything," you say, "I need someone to talk to and if you're willing to listen...well, I guess you're as good as anyone."

A scoff. "You sure do know how to make a guy feel flattered."

"Shut up," you fight back a smile. You are not in the mood to smile tonight. Why is he making you smile? "You wanna know why I was here tonight drinking?"

"If you wanna tell me."

"It's stupid. I don't even know if it can count as cheating if I knew we weren't exclusive. I just...I didn't expect that."

"What happened?" The smoke of his cigarette drifts to you, making you feel floaty again, and you realize it's not tobacco he's smoking. You lean your head back against the wooden pillar.

"I found out my boyfriend has been seeing other girls. And not just seeing them either, but like, sleeping with them. Lots of them. And I know we weren't exclusive, and I probably have no right to be upset by this, but I just...I feel sick. And the worst of it is he's my brother's best friend, and he knew and didn't tell me. Because clearly I'm not the one his loyalty lies with."

"Fuck," he passes you the rolled paper between his finger, "Sounds complicated."

You aren't a big smoker, but you put it to your lips anyway and take a hit.

"Thanks," you say, passing it back to him.

"What are you gonna do?"

"No idea," you say, running a hand through your hair, "Part of me tells me to just break up with him, end it. Walk away and let him just do whatever he wants like he's gonna do anyway."

"And the other part?"

"It's complicated. We've been together for so long. He's all I know."

"Sounds like you need to get to know some new things."

"Probably," you say.

"For what it's worth," he says, taking another hit and passing it back to you, "I think it's bullshit what he's doing to you, and you deserve better than that."

"I've already closed my tab," you say, "You don't need to gun for a tip."

He tosses his head back and laughs, "Damn," he says after a moment, "Your boyfriend really doesn't know what he's missin' out on, does he?"

You blush, bring your thumbnail to your lip to bite.

"You want some unsolicited advice? It's kinda my specialty, bein' a bartender an' all..."

"Sure," you say; what could it hurt. Besides, who else have you got to talk to about this?

"I think you should dump his ass. Kick him to the curb. It's not even about being exclusive, it's about taking your feelings into consideration; about respecting you."

You feel your stomach tighten. "That's exactly how I've been trying to explain my feelings to myself," you say in disbelief, "You just put it perfectly into words! I feel disrespected, like how I feel about it just doesn't matter. To him or to my brother or anyone from that fucking place."

"You know, princess, The Cut isn't a closed club. If you're ever needing to get away from Fig Eight, you know where to go."

"Thank you," you can't help but smile, "That's sweet of you."

"Gettin' called sweet from the girl who can't order a drink without maraschino cherries," he chuckles softly. A familiar rumble pulls you from your thoughts. The black Range Rover has pulled up in front of the bar and you feel sick as you see Rafe slam the door shut and hop out. Topper's behind the wheel.

"Y/N!" Rafe calls. You feel sick as he marches over to the patio.

"Rafe Cameron is your boyfriend?" The bartender raises his brows in disbelief.

You wince. Of course he knows who Rafe is. Rafe has a reputation across the entire island.

"Yes," you admit.

"Good," he says to your surprise, dropping the joint and hopping up from the balcony, cracking his neck, "Rafe and I have history."

"What's that mean?" You ask.

"Maybank!" Rafe hollers as he storms over.

"Look what the tides dragged in. Lost, Cameron?"

"Fuck off, Maybank. I'm here for one reason only and that's to get Y/N. She's the one that's lost here. C'mon, Y/N. You don't belong here. I still can't believe you just took off like that! Thank God for Find My Iphone because Topper and I'd never have been able to track you down. Get in the car, we're going."

"The hell we are," you stand your ground, suddenly feeling brave with "Maybank" standing at your side.

"Pardon?" Rafe raises a brow, "C'mon, Y/N. Let's go."

Topper rolls down the window of the Rover, leans his head out, "C'mon, Y/N. Stop throwin' a tantrum and get in the damn car."

"No," you say, crossing your arms, "I don't have to go anywhere with you, Rafe Cameron. In fact, we're done. As of this moment. You are free, go fuck whoever you want, do whatever you want, but just know that I'm done. This is over."

"This is your doing," he turns on the bartender at your side, "I know you've got into her head somehow, JJ."

"JJ" just shrugs, "Maybe. Or maybe your ex is smart enough to come to her own decisions and that decision is that she's better than whatever it is you've got to offer. Which trust me," JJ raises a brow and smirks, "From what I hear from the ladies, isn't much."

Rafe takes a step forward. So does JJ.

"You don't want to do this," Rafe says.

"Oh, but you see I do. You forget, Cameron. It's you who doesn't want to do this. How many reminders do you need, that every time you cross me, it's you who loses. Runs back to Fig Eight with his tail between his legs."

"Fuck you, Maybank."

"You've got twenty seconds to march back to that Rover and for you and your lap dog to get the fuck out of here."

You stare in shock as Rafe's fist clenches at his side, but he does as JJ's said.

"This isn't over, Maybank," Rafe calls over his shoulder.

"Always a pleasure, Cammy," JJ says, giving a little wave as Rafe climbs back into the Range Rover.

"Whoa," you turn to him.

"Yeah," JJ runs a hand through his hair sheepishly, "Sorry about that. I probably shouldn't have stepped in like that without your signal, I just...I cant stand that guy. Either of them."

"Yeah, me either," you say with a little chuckle, "That was pretty impressive though. How did you do that though? How did you get him to back down like that? Rafe doesn't back down from a fight. Ever."

JJ smirks, "Let's just say it's not our first rodeo. He knows better than to mess with me, or any of my friends."

"And does that include me?" You raise a brow.

A smile crosses his face as he holds out his hand for you to take, "What do you think?"

You join him back inside for the remainder of his shift. Instead of whiskey, he and the other bartender, whom you come to learn is named Pope, keep you spoiled in Shirley Temples. The three of you chat, and as the night carries on, you feel a comfort settle over you that you've never experienced before.

After their shift ends, JJ invites you over to come hang out at their place with some of their friends.

"Yeah," you say, taking the hand he offers you, "Like you said, it's high time I get to know some new things. Introduce me to your world, Maybank."

You spend the night hanging out with him and his friends, Pope, John B, and come to find Sarah Cameron and Kiara are also very good friends with JJ. You spend the night laughing and playing board games with them, drinking PBR (which you realize you can handle much better than whiskey; even if JJ teases you and asks if you're sure you can drink beer without cherries in it).

It's almost three in the morning when Kiara puts some music on the porch speakers. JJ reaches out and grabs your hand, pulling you out to the grass to dance with you under the moonlight.

You know tomorrow you're going to have to face the consequences of this night. You're going to have to go home and have a proper conversation with Rafe Cameron. At the end of the day, he's still important to you, and you want to end things the right way. You're going to have to face Topper too, and deal with his comments. And you know the ladies at the Country Club are fixing to have some new gossip to add to their rosters. It's worth it though. It'll all be worth it, for more nights like these, with friends like those, and dancing with a boy like this under the moonlight.

#jj maybank fic #jj maybank x yn #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #rafe cameron #obx fic #outer banks fic #obx imagine

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mrsbarnesblog · 9 months ago

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just a friend

masterlist

requests are open

summary: your best friend gets jealous when he sees you talking to some random guy at his party

words count: 3k

warnings: +18❗️smut, swearing, p in v sex, protected sex, friends to lovers, possessive but softie Rafe, dirty talk, pet names

You were standing near the kitchen island, far away from everybody else, sipping on your drink and observing Rafe. The loud music busted through the speakers, there were too many unknown faces and for the hundredth time wished you had stayed at home.

Rafe was sitting on the couch in the middle of the room with Kelse, Topper, a few other guys, and, most importantly, some random girl. She was way too touchy for your liking and it honestly seemed like she was ready to get into his pants in front of everyone.

Rafe didn't pay much attention, though, even while she was rubbing his pants-covered thigh and saying something in his ear. No, Rafe was too interested in the conversation with his friend, but it didn't stop that nasty and overwhelming feeling of jealousy bubbling in your stomach.

You and Rafe have been friends for almost three years, but it didn't seem like it. While you had neved crossed the invisible line, unknowningly for each other you both admitted to yourself that whatever was going on in between you two was not a regular friendship. Friends shouldn't sleep in each other's beds. Friends shouldn’t spend that much time together alone. Friends shouldn't be jealous every single time someone talks to their friend. And friends shouldn't be in love.

Yet, here you were.

You were staring at this scene for at least fifteen minutes and it drove you fucking insane. Especially the fact that Rafe had never let any man even talk to you, not to mention be all up in your face. It was so unfair that he had double standards for you and that he probably didn't even realize your feelings for him.

Rafe was just too overprotective and possessive and you had to admit the ugly truth to yourself that it wasn't because he was in love with you.

You finished your drink, wincing at the taste of alcohol, and straightened, looking across the room full of people. There were too many guys; you spotted the one that looked kind of attractive and moved in his direction. You were done with Rafe’s bullshit. If he could have girls all over himself, so could you.

“Hey.” You tapped on the guy’s shoulder to grab his attention. He became flirty way too quickly, stepping closer to you and giving his best smirk, yet your eyes were still drifting back to Rafe.

You saw the exact moment when your best friend noticed your current company. You and Ed were chatting for no more than five minutes, and while he was talking about it being his plans for the night, you saw Rafe getting up from the couch with a frown on his face. He quickly crossed the room, not bothering to check on the girl who was trying to get his attention over the loud music, or say even say something to his friends.

“What are you doing here?” His brows furrowed even more, his eyes going up and down the guy near you.

“I’m talking, Rafe. Go back to your company.” You rolled your eyes, looking back at Ed. “So what were you saying? Your frie—”

“You’re coming with me, Y/N.” Before you could even say anything, you were dragged away to the second floor, where no one could bother you. “What the fuck was that, huh? I told you like a million fucking times to not talk to the guys at these damn parties; they're goin’ to hurt you.” Rafe freed your hand, pacing in front of you and running his own hand through his hair. He was visibly annoyed and pissed, and with the way he was acting, you wanted to push his buttons even more.

"You are my friend, Rafe, and you have no fucking right to tell me who I can and cannot speak to or go out with!" You shouted back, not even in the slightest fear of the flames in his eyes, when his head snapped back towards you.

"Whether you like it or not, Y/N, I am not going to let any fuckers with bad intentions get near you."

"Apparently, they are the only ones who are interested in me. You seem to be always busy with all the girls who are ready to climb you.” You laughed even though it hurt you to say it out loud. “I'm sick of your double standards, Rafe. You think I want to look at you with some random girls? You think it’s okay to scare guys away from me and then casually let everyone be all over you?”

“What the fuck does that mean? You know I am not dating anyone. They can do whatever they want because I have no plans with any of them." He rolled his eyes, already irritated that he was actually fighting with you for the first time. But there was no going back and you both felt it. The constant tension and secret feelings were overflowing and they had to find a way out. “You’re acting like a child, swear to god, babe.”

“Because you're giving me mixed signals and confusing me!” You stepped closer, pointing a finger at his chest.

“You know the reason why I do this.” Rafe grabbed your wrist, slightly pulling you closer. Your eyes locked on each other, and your faces were so close that you could smell liquor his his breath. You felt the way your stomach dropped when Rafe’s eyes quickly felt to your lips, yet you were still filled with anger.

"No, I don't! You’re giving me hope on something, you’re being affectionate with me, we’re spending all our time together, but then you just step back as if it was nothing! Just stop playing with my feelings and tell the fucking tr—-“ Before you could even finish your sentence, your body got pushed back and pressed in between the wall and Rafe’s body. His grip on your face was firm yet gentle enough to not hurt you when he brought you closer to him and finally kissed you.

You both moaned into the kiss as if you were surprised and content that it had finally happened. Rafe’s lips moved quickly, easily dominating over you, as he swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, asking for permission to slip in.

“I’m just a friend, huh? You’re driving me fucking insane. You’re mine, don’t you understand it?” He mumbled against your mouth, sliding one hand down your body and at the same time pushing his legs in between your thighs. He just simply wanted to pin you against the wall, but the way his thigh pressed into your pulsing core made you both hiss. “Do you really think I would let anyone kiss you? Touch you? I’m selfish, Y/N, and I don’t like to share anything or anyone.” You felt as if you were high or drunk with the way your body reacted to Rafe’s touches, trying to concentrate on his words but actually only wishing his lips to get back on yours.

“You let them touch you. That girl was all over you today, and you did nothing to prevent it.” You breathed into his lips, feeling a lazy smirk stretching across his own. Rafe leaned in again, pressing a few quick, wet kisses to your mouth and wrapping one hand harder around your body.

“She was fucking annoying and I tried to get her off of me. I don’t need any of them. My eyes have always been on you. I swear.” Rafe’s hands tugged on your dress, sliding it higher to have more access to your body. “Holy shit, Y/N. I don't know how I was able to be friends with you for so long. I want you so bad.”

You moaned, your head falling back against the wall, when Rafe’s lips slid down the side of your neck, leaving soft bites and reddish marks. Your own hands reached under his t-shirt, touching his firm abs and scratching his tanned skin until he moaned into your mouth.

“I was scared to make a move. To scare you away. But you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I cannot pretend to be only your friend." His hands were sliding up and down your thighs, bringing you closer and not pulling his face away from your neck. Your scent has always driven him insane and he couldn’t have enough of you. “Do you feel it? Do you feel how hard you make me, Y/N?” His hands tugged your hips closer, until his bulge was firmly pressing into your leg.

“Rafe…” You whined, your hips moving on his thigh, which was still pressed in between your legs. The feeling of your underwear getting wetter by the second made you wonder if Rafe could feel it through his pants. “Y-you know that everyone thinks that we’re sleeping together, right?”

“I think we shouldn’t disappoint them, hm?” You felt a smile spreading across his lips and you giggled back at him. Your hands are now tagging the annoying piece of fabric that hid his body from you, not even caring about people that might go to the second floor of Cameron’s house and catch you.

You managed to drag the t-shirt off of Rafe, your mouth instantly getting watery with the image in front of you. Sure, you saw Rafe shirtless countless times at the beach, but knowing that you could shamelessly do whatever you wanted made your whole body tingle.

“Fuck that.” Before you even knew it, Rafe’s hands easily lifted you up, making your legs automatically wrap around his body. His lips met yours again, and he started blindly moving towards his bedroom.

Your body bounced on the way-too-soft and way-too-expensive mattress of his king-size bed as he threw you there and went to lock the door. Rafe followed you shortly after, too desperate to keep touching you. His hands slid up your bare thighs, going past the strings of your panties, pushing your dress until it was gathered around your waist.

“Can I take it off?” He looked at you, his eyes surprisingly soft and completely different from what you'd expected. You just simply nodded, lifting your hands in the air, until the only real item of clothing was taken off you and thrown somewhere in the room.

Rafe’s eyes took every inch of your exposed skin, his hands gently sliding down your sides. You were only dressed in a simple black set, but for Rafe, it was the sexiest thing in the world.

He wanted you for so long. Just looking from afar, he was trying to restrict himself from getting closer to you because he had always thought that you deserved someone better. But at the same time, who could treat you better than him? Only Rafe knew everything that you liked and needed, and he was willing to give it to you.

“You’re so pretty, for fuck’s sake. I’ll be careful with you.” Rafe's body covered yours, his soft lips kissing your neck and going all the way down to your belly, making you gasp. You buried your hands in his hair, moving it away from his face. “I’ll take care of you. I promise I won’t fuck this up.” He looked up at you with his baby blues, and your whole body got covered in goosebumps from the look in his eyes.

“Please, Rafe.” You whispered, taking his face into your hands and dragging him back on top of you. You two could not stop moaning as your hands began to explore each other's bodies and your lips met once more in a passionate kiss. “I want you.”

“Baby… Can’t even imagine what you’re doing to me.” He groaned against your mouth. The position that you were currently in, with Rafe comfortably in between your slightly spread legs, made his pants-covered erection perfectly press into your dump panties. “Need to be inside of you or else you’ll make me cum in my pants.”

It became a mess of tugging on each other's clothes while trying to have as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. When you were both naked, Rafe slowed down, holding your face with one firm hand. “Is it really what you want to do? ‘Cause I won’t go back to pretending to be friends anymore.”

“Just fuck me already, Cameron.” You whispered, not breaking intense eye contact.

“As you wish, sweetheart.” With these words, Rafe pulled back to reach the nightstand and take a condon. He carelessly threw it near your exposed body and took a few seconds to finally admire your naked form.

You were basically inviting him to do whatever he wanted with your slightly spread legs, which let him see how wet you already were. That pleading look on your face didn’t help the situation either, making Rafe want to fuck you dumb until his name was the only thing on your mind.

He looked you up and down a few times before leaning forward, pressing your legs closer to your chest. Rafe’s calloused hands reached to your sensitive breasts, touching nipples with his thumbs, until your eyes rolled back into your head.

“Are you ready for me, or do you want me to eat you out first, hm?” His soft breath on the side of your neck sent shievers down your body. As much as you wanted to feel his lips on you, it felt like you could not think straight without his dick stretching you out, so you helplessly shook your head.

“Next time, please. I need you now.”

He gave you a sly smile and, in a single motion, ripped off the foil, rolled a condom over his throbbing cock, and placed himself at your entrance. You squirmed at the feeling of his tip going up and down your wet slit, gathering your juices and stimulating your sensitive clit.

“Fuck, so you’re soakin’ my sheets, baby.” He smirked, looking down at your pussy and teasing you more, until a moan of his name escaped from your mouth. “Keep your legs here, okay? ‘N I’ll take care of you.”

When you felt Rafe's cock slide into you, your eyes flattered before closing completely. It was big. It was bigger than you had ever had before, but it seemed like your body quickly adjusted to him as soon as he bottomed out. With one hand near your head to hold himself up and the other one on your leg, he slowly started moving in and out.

“Rafe!” You squeaked, digging your nails into your thighs and trying to control yourself.

“Sh-h, ‘s okay. Knew this pussy was made for me, babe.” He moaned through gritted teeth, gradually increasing the speed of his thrusts. Soon, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with muffled moans and Rafe’s praises. His bed was making a noise with every movement, and if you hadn't been too lost in the pleasure, you would’ve thought about other people hearing you. Rafe could not take his gaze away from your face—the way you tried to control yourself but soon lost it when his cock touched that sensitive spot inside of you. Your glossy eyes, hot skin and puffy lips made him go feral, fucking you harder into the matress of his bed.

“That’s right, scream my name. Made ya go dumb for my cock, huh?” He watched in awe at the way you were going insane under him; your release was visibly getting closer with every thrust. You moan even louder, feeling a tight knot form in your lower stomach, and the feeling gradually increased when the base of his cock brushed over your clit. “Squeezin’ me so tight. My good girl... fuck, baby. That’s right, cum for me. I’ve got you.”

Rafe grabbed both of your hands, showing you to put them around his neck. It made your legs fall from the previous position and you weakly put them around his waist. Rafe finally lowered his face closer to you, catching your lips in a wet and sloppy kiss, still pounding into you roughly and steadily.

“I-I can’t, Rafe, please!”

You particularly breathe the same air, moan into each other’s mouths, hooded eyes locked on when the orgasm washes over you almost simultaneously. Without even realizing it, you dragged your nails down Rafe’s sweaty back, leaving red marks that he will proudly show off tomorrow. His hips slowly pushed into you while you were still pulsating around his cock, enjoying your own release. Just the feeling of your pussy milking him could’ve made him cum again.

“Rafe…” You whisper, your eyes now closed and your head feeling all fuzzy and warm. Rafe slowly slipped out of you, walking away to throw out a condom. You whined at the empty feeling and the coldness that the lack of his touch had brought.

“‘M right here, baby. You did amazing.” As he came back on top of you, now wearing boxers, he placed kisses on the heated skin of your neck, his hand sliding down your side to soothe the aching muscles of your legs. “My pretty girl... Gosh, now I’m not letting you go. Like ever.”

You giggle, draping your arms over his shoulders and playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “So all I had to do was talk to some random guy for you to get all angry and kiss me?”

“Don’t remind me of that. I just realised that I might actually lose you.” Rafe whispered the last part, nuzzling into your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist until there was no space left between your naked bodies.

“You won’t lose me, I promise.” You hugged him back, enjoying the comfortable silence that fell into the room, until you both fell asleep in each other's arms.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe x you #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron x you #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader

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madrone33 · 5 months ago

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Number 1 Rule of adapting the Odyssey into EPIC is: if it can be more dramatic, it will be more dramatic.

The Greeks decide to throw the infant Trojan prince from the walls because they're scared he'll try to avenge his family? No, Zeus comes down to personally give Odysseus a vision of being killed and says his family WILL die. Kill the baby that reminds you of your son right now, it's the gods will.

Odysseus goes to greet the inhabitants of an island and gets trapped in a cave for two days by the cyclops that's eating his men one by one? Nope, we got BOSS BATTLE 30v1 in the Ithacans' favour until BAM fourteen pancakes are made by Polyphemus' club and oh shit Polites is DEAD-

Athena is just vaugely absent for the whole journey until the end? We got emotionally charged platonic breakups instead, with yelling and insults and "well I'm breaking up with you FIRST!"

Smooth sailing to Ithaca? STOOOORM-

Odysseus' great-great-great-grandfather giving him a speed boost to help him on his way home? Get ready for trickster wind gods, mischievous winions, and a game that was rigged from the start.

Random-ass suspicious and greedy crew mates open the bag? It's Eurylochus, his second in command, his brother-in-law, the man he trusted, Eurylochus WHYYY

Parking in the wrong harbour and getting boulders thrown at the fleet by angry man-eating giants while Odysseus backs away veeery slowly? Nah Poseidon himself pulls up to dunk on them, and Odysseus has to make a last minute getaway using the power of STOOORM to avoid being curbstomped like his fleet.

Odysseus gets some stronger drugs from a god to make him immune to the other drugs of a goddess? Well these drugs actually give him magic powers which he uses to engage in a Pokémon/Yu-Gi-Oh style BOSS BATTLE!

Get some closure with dead loved ones and acquaintances, and be the first interviewer of the fallen heroes of past ages? Nope, we just got TRAUMA and a whole boatload of guilt!

A neat outline of what the rest of the journey will look like, a warning against an island of cows that will slow him down, and the way to appease Poseidon? This Tiresias just says "Y'know there used to be a world where you made it home, BUT I DON'T SEE IT NO MORE. IT'S GONE. IT'S OVER. Also, your palace is fucked."

Sailing past the sirens while getting to be the first mortal to hear their song and live? M U R D E R

Sailing past Scylla to avoid Charybdis and accidentally getting six men eaten because he thought he could totally take Scylla, even though Circe said he couldn't, and then he realised he, in fact, cannot take Scylla? ... Eurylochus, light up six torches.

Eurylochus waits till Odysseus is out hunting and then goes behind his back to mutinously rally the crew and feast on some sacred cattle? Betrayal on both sides, stabby stab, K.O., and then Odysseus helplessly watches them make the greatest mistake of their lives as they ignore his pleas.

Quick clean and easy lightning-strike to the ship, leaving Odysseus to cling to some driftwood and paddle away? Zeus himself appears to the mortals, monologues, makes Odysseus be the one to choose, and then smites the whole ship leaving Odysseus to nearly drown anyway.

Telemachus gets advice from a disguised Athena to yell at the suitors and then sail away to look for news of his missing father? Telemachus gets into a full on beatdown with the suitors and gets FIGHT CLUB TRAINING from Athena!

Athena goes "dad I want my favourite mortal back? Did you forget about him? I think you forgot about him" and Zeus instantly replies "nonsense. How could I have forgotten that funny little mortal? Of course you can have him back my sweet favoured child <3" and then Athena skips off to Ithaca? "Father please-" "LIGHTNING BOLT! ANOTHER LIGHTNING BOLT! LIGHTNING BOLT TO THE FACE HOW DARE YOU ASK ME OF SUCH A THING!"

Poseidon does a double take "wait they let him go?? Oh hell nah!" and then sends a giant fuck off storm for Odysseus to swim through until he reaches the Phaeacians? No, Poseidon's just been there on Ithaca's shores, waiting for eight years, now get in the water BITCH- except Odysseus is just like "oh yeah? Fucking FIGHT ME"

You thought the suitors in the Odyssey were bad? Jorge really just said "dial that shit up to ELEVEN"

#the odyssey #epic the musical #funny #literally any chance Jorge gets he adds a boss battle XD #long post #my posts #don't take this seriously #tw swearing #Edit: typos

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sanjisleggy · 1 month ago

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imagine being loved by me (sanji x reader) [pt2]

a/n: here’s part 2 to ‘welcome to cupid island’ :D yippee! lowkey i wanna turn this into a larger series but i have no idea what i'd wanna add lmao but if people are interested in more of this reader x sanji dynamic i’d be happy to consider :3c imma add a poll at the end of this post to see what’s the reception like. anyway pls enjoy!

contents: some suggestive themes but nothing explicit (16+ only ty!), jealous sanji, very insecure sanji, angst to fluff, hurt/reverse comfort

wc. 2.25k

wanna be on my taglist?

PART 1

he imagines you would have an amazing life.

he imagines after you accept the proposal, you would be transformed into a beautiful queen, both regaled by your countless servants and beloved by your people. he can practically see right in front of him how King Aphr would worship the very ground you walked on, kiss the soles of your feet and the palms of your soft hands every night before ravishing you under the sheets until your eyes fill with tears of pleasure–things a mere pirate cook could never provide.

he imagines in a few years you would have two beautiful children: a girl and a boy, of course. they would be spitting images of you–or maybe one of them would have their father’s fluffy brown hair or gorgeous eyes. whatever the genetic combination, Sanji doesn’t doubt they would be absolutely beautiful solely because they came from you.

he imagines you living the life you deserve above everyone else on this godforsaken planet: happy, loved and safe from the dangers that come with life on the sea. you’d live a long life and be left wanting for nothing.

it’s a life Sanji cannot give you.

“oh. no, thanks.” your response to the kneeling crown prince is curt with your mouth hidden behind your hand to obscure the fact that you’re mid-chew. “i’m not interested.”

the matter-of-factness of your tone rips Sanji straight out of his self-deprecating nightmare as his head snaps in your direction. still holding his hand, you give it a soft squeeze as you maintain eye contact with your latest suitor. the entire restaurant is dead silent and even the wait staff are frozen in place, trays of freshly prepared gourmet food left to slowly cool before they can even be touched.

the Prince doesn’t hide his disappointment but he takes it better than any of the Straw Hats anticipated. if anything, they were all prepared for a fight but instead, the man simply apologises for disrupting your dinner and takes his leave. once he’s gone, you swallow your food before turning to meet Sanji’s eyes with your own. you can’t help but feel a pang in your chest when you see how teary he looks; you give his hand another squeeze before bringing the back of it to your lips and give him a soft kiss.

“we can talk about this later,” is the message your eyes convey to him and he nods in response.

although business gradually goes back to normal and the usual dining room chatter resumes, you and your group finish the rest of your meal with an odd sense of awkwardness encompassing the establishment. much to your–and Sanji’s–pleasure, however, it seems that your rejection of the Prince’s proposal is enough to ward off any other suitors, at least for the rest of dinner.

ii.

whilst some of your crewmates opt to sleep in early or explore the night market, you and your usual group of drinking buddies head to the hotel’s bar. out of habit, you find a table with four seats for Nami, Robin, Zoro and yourself, though you soon realise your mistake when you notice Sanji’s still holding onto your hand.

“what? not gonna chase skirts tonight, shitty cook?” Zoro speaks your mind. the blond chef’s grip on your hand tightens slightly.

“no, of course not, you stupid mosshead.” Sanji doesn’t elaborate any further but everyone knows the reason why: news of your rejection of the Prince hasn’t spread far enough yet, it seems, and already new faces are peering your way, presents in hand.

less than an hour passes and you’re not the only person who’s been approached by suitors: every one of your Straw Hat companions has been accosted at least three times. you try to keep count but eventually lose track when you reach double digits.

“it seems like they’re more desperate as the week comes to an end,” Robin observes, mumbling into her glass after turning down her fifteenth admirer.

“desperate’s putting it lightly,” Zoro replies, growing more visibly annoyed as the minutes pass and he can��t seem to enjoy one drink without a man or woman shyly sneaking up on him with more homemade cookies. “they’re even going after the shitty cook, they must be more than desperate,” he adds with a snort, clearly happy to take up any opportunity possible to rile up your boyfriend.

though you can tell Zoro’s ‘joke’ bugs him, Sanji remains quiet, opting to just shoot the swordsman a sharp glare from across the round table.

“here comes another one,” Nami groans, praying she’s not the target.

unfortunately for you, her wish comes true.

Zoro’s guard dog comparison from earlier in the day rings true yet again when the man taps your shoulder to get your attention. before you can even turn to look at what they look like, Sanji’s head snaps around first. although there’s an unmistakable look of pure rage in his eyes as he scowls at the man that makes the suitor almost instantly break out into a cold sweat, the cook’s grip on your hand remains the same gentleness as always.

“fuck off!” Sanji barks, subtlety be damned. your companions each react in a similar manner, choking on their respective drinks to some degree. you even catch Zoro murmuring to himself, “goddamn.” valuing his life, the stranger turns tail and disappears in a matter of seconds.

half a minute passes and the same bitter expression is stuck to your beloved’s face. your free hand reaches up to his head before you run your fingers through his soft hair. the gesture alone seems enough to snap him back to reality as his scowl melts away to be replaced by a small smile. Sanji closes his eyes and lets out a breath, tensed shoulders relaxing as you continue to caress his head. your hand slowly trails down his face before stopping to rest on his shoulder, your palm wrapped around the base of his neck, thumb rubbing along the edge of his sharp jawline.

your gentle ministrations send his heart into overdrive, the fragile organ threatening to beat so fast and so hard that it shatters his ribcage into nothingness. despite having known you for so long, he can’t ever seem to get used to your love.

“what a coincidence seeing you here, miss (Y/N),” a familiar voice speaks from behind you. from the looks on your crewmates’ faces, you can already tell you’re not the only one sick and tired of this island’s tradition. before anyone–even Sanji–can react to the blatant interruption, you stand up abruptly and turn around to face Prince Aphr. donning a smile, he’s dressed differently than when you first met him at dinner but his expensive clothes only serve to annoy you even further.

“i’ll only say this one more time, your highness,” you say through gritted teeth, days’ worth of built up irritation finally spilling over the edge and the unlucky target of your wrath just has to be the son of the ruler of the island–but you find it hard to care. “i’m not interested and i’ll never be interested. now, please leave me and my friends alone.”

Sanji stares up at you from his seat with his eyes wide and lips slightly parted. the last time you looked this angry was when an enemy pirate kicked Chopper like a soccer ball–and you’d gone on an absolute rampage back then. however, it seems that due to Prince Aphr’s lack of experience witnessing such devastation, he chooses to press on. as much as Sanji would love to diable jambe his royal ass, both him and the rest of the Straw Hats present at the table know you’re fully capable of handling this yourself.

“may i at least ask what it might take for you to even consider my proposal?” the prince asks. he’s either an extremely convincing actor or he’s genuinely so dense he doesn’t actually realise you’re in a relationship with the man right beside you.

“nothing.” your response seems to take him aback. “you could offer me the entire world on a silver platter and my answer would still be the same. my family is my crew and i’ve already met the love of my life.”

Sanji realises at that moment that a small part of him expected you to give an answer the prince could fulfill. when the finality of your words hits him, he can’t help the tears welling up in his eyes as his heart sinks to impossibly low depths.

you said it all with such ease, so little effort. have i ever done the same for you? what kind of man have i been?

iii.

Sanji twiddles his thumbs as he sits on the king sized bed, listening intently to the sound of the shower running. when it stops and he hears the slight creak of the shower door opening, he’s overcome with a great sense of anxiety, knowing that time will not stop just because he needs more time to gather his thoughts.

a few minutes later, you exit from the bathroom in a fluffy white robe, the smell of your shampoo washing over the entire hotel room. with a satisfied hum, you crawl across the bed to sit beside him.

“so,” you say gently as you grab one of his hands to play with his long fingers, “you wanna talk about anything?” the moment his eyes meet yours, all the words he painstakingly prepared to say slip right through his fingers.

you’re so beautiful.

Sanji opens his mouth but is unable to speak, he can only breathe and stare as you patiently wait for him to let everything out.

i don’t deserve you.

you tilt your head slightly and hum, as though trying to remind him that you’re still there. you look at him with such pure adoration, he wonders if you’re even looking at him.

but i want you and i want your love more than anything. so please–

“don’t leave me,” Sanji finally manages to choke out, hot tears now streaming down his face. days’ worth of anger and worry finally catches up to him and he can’t do anything but slump forward to bury his face in your midsection. his lanky arms curl around your waist in a desperate attempt to hold you there, just in case you decide you don’t want him anymore.

“hey, who said anything about leaving you, my sweet boy?” you say with a light chuckle but it does nothing to hide the heaviness in your voice. you wrap your arms around his head, hugging him closer to your stomach as he sobs into your bathrobe. running your fingers of one hand through his hair just the way he likes, you continue, “what makes you think that?”

“Prince Aphr can give you everything.” Sanji pulls his head away just enough to speak clearly but not far enough to break away from your warm embrace. “and i can’t. up until we arrived here–ever since we started dating–i couldn’t even stop flirting with women right in front of you and for what?!”

you shush him when he starts to raise his voice and you feel his fingers tighten their grip on the back of your bathrobe. “it’s okay–”

“no, it’s not,” he cuts you off. “how am i supposed to call myself yours if i can’t even treat you with the respect you deserve? i’m sorry, (Y/N), i’m so sorry i took for granted how open you are with the way i am around other women. just seeing the way so many people wanted to steal you away these past few days, and how you turned them all down, made me realise i’ve been a shitty boyfriend–”

deciding that you’ve heard enough, you lean back to separate his face from your body and use your hands to gently tilt his head up so that your eyes meet. Sanji stares almost pitifully up at you, his own hands still holding on for dear life onto your robe as his long legs splay out behind him across the large bed.

“you’re far from a shitty boyfriend, my love,” you sniffle, feeling tears of your own forming in your eyes, “you take such good care of me. you feed me anything i want, fuss over me when i’m sick, protect me in battle. you always let me shower first aboard the Sunny so i get all the hot water.” cupping his face in between your palms, you rub the pads of your thumbs across his cheeks, wiping away his tears. “you look at me like i hung the stars and the moon in the sky,” you say with a choked laugh, unable to help feeling a bit embarrassed admitting such a thing aloud, “sometimes i don’t even know how to live up to that.”

Sanji takes in a shaky breath as he nuzzles his face into your right hand so you lightly scratch his scalp with your left. the sensation pleases him so much he swears he nearly starts purring.

“how did i get so lucky?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your palm.

“how did i get so lucky?” you reply with a laugh before leaning down to brush your lips against his forehead.

already Sanji feels the aching in his heart slowly fade away, leaving behind a soreness that’s sure to persist but he’s certain that it, too, will disappear over time as long as you’re by his side.

–

tags: @mlpandr63 @wifeofladyqu @strawberrysanzu @qui-sap @secretlife028 @the-avengers-not-the-nazis @peachycat17 @xiaothedgyemo @chaseyui @certain-tragedies @amei-draws-stuff @carmen-skullz @cobainlover @lara-christensen-me @shondlenoodle @teewon @makingmammonmoves @carmendanny2

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x yn #one piece x you #op x reader #imagine #fanfic #op #sanji x reader #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #opla x reader #one piece live action x reader

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willowpains · 3 months ago

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season 1 release

drew starkey x latina actress reader!

liked by madelyncline and other 462,611.

ynusername SEASON 1 OF OUTER BANKS IS OUT BABY!!! you don’t wanna miss it☀️🏴‍☠️🐚

see comments.

user1 I finished it in one sitting? it’s so good!

user2 is it worth it?

user3 so so so worth it, you should give it a try!

hichasestokes POGUES 4 LIFE

user4 latin representation? definitely gonna watch

madelyncline prettiest island girl

user5 wait I didn’t know she was latina!

user6 yuppp, I actually loved seeing they went into her mexican background in the show

user7 the fact she’s truly mexican born and raised, LOVE HER ALREADY

drewstarkey the orange sunglasses are fire

yourbestie SISISI la más orgullosa de ti<3

madisonbaileybabe second pic was an epic day!

user8 imma need Netflix to renew this show

obx WE LOVE OUR GIRL LUNA

user9 ok this show is so good I’m invested

user10 her character kinda has tension with rafe ngl

ynusername has posted on her story

madelyncline replied to your story

wait that film photo is amazing

you’re missing in it though:(

madisonbaileybabe replied to your story

omg that is literally your personality pic LMAO

drewstarkey replied to your story

learn how to swim

liked by jonathandavissofficial and other 3,568,901.

obx a little love for one of our favorite pogue princesses: LUNA🌙🥥🌺

see comments.

user11 LOVE HER

user12 she’s an absolute goddess

yourcousin mi personaje favoritoooo

user13 ugh I hate her character sm

user14 right like idk why everyone likes her

user15 y’all are just jealous

yourbestie obsesionada con ella

user16 DIOSA MEXICANA

ynusername amamos a luna<3

user17 without her the pogues would be lost

user18 fr she saved all their asses more than once

user19 and they would be so bored too

madisonbaileybabe pogue sister

user20 she has the funniest lines as well as jj, I was tearing up laughing at their fights

rudeth she knows what’s up

liked by austinnorth55 and other 763,820.

drewstarkey glad to know everyone’s enjoying obx, had to drop these bangers I took from behind the scenes📸 @ynusername

see comments.

hichasestokes that’s her 99% of the time

user21 LMAO she’s so me

ynusername no you didn’t

ynusername HOW DARE YOU

drewstarkey not my fault you fell asleep everywhere

user22 we love a pair of pretty besties

user23 damn filming must’ve been tiring

madelyncline I have some funny ones too, let’s share!

ynusername not you too

user24 how is she still pretty even drooling?

user25 wait she’s so relatable

madisonbaileybabe second pic is a mood

user26 omg I love you two on the show!

user27 I kinda ship them

user28 wait you might be onto something

jonathandavissofficial LOL

user29 I’m a y/n protector

user30 oh she’s my fave

liked by jonathandavissofficial and other 999,528.

ynusername tomfoolery by yours truly🫣

see comments.

user31 YES YES YES

user32 pls keep feeding us with content

madelyncline I’m the life of the party

user33 I love this cast so much, I wanna be their friend

user34 I know right? they look like they love each other

user35 I wanna party out with them tbh

drewstarkey I see you’ve gotten your revenge

ynusername I’m not done yet

user36 your honor I love them

user37 y/n thank you for your service ma’am

ynusername anytime🫡

rudeth paparazzi

user38 I cannot wait for them to announce a second season

obx our favorite people!

madisonbaileybabe truly iconic

user39 I can confidently say this is my new favorite show

user40 I’m addicted to outer banks I cannot stop rewatching

ynusername has posted on her story

hichasestokes replied to your story

a war has been declared

madelyncline replied to your story

LMAO

I love you

drewstarkey replied to your story

oh it’s ON

first social media post for latina actress universe!

I really wanna incorporate a little bit of everything sooo let me know if you like it but I kinda really love this<3

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fabdante · 2 months ago

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A Tea for Sunrise

“But what is home,” Iroh asks more bluntly this time. Zuko presses his lips together and thinks. He’s thinking too literally, maybe, attributing home to four walls. “Well, you, Uncle,” he begins. Obvious answer but one anyway. Iroh chuckles. “You and the Jasmine Dragon and this tea.” “What else?” Iroh sips his tea. “Sitting with my friends around a fire. Being the last awake after a good nights meal, knowing everyone's fed and safe. Staring at the stars with them. Maybe the summer house on Ember Island.” He taps his cup. “Making dinners and lunches and breakfasts with Katara. When she tells me stories about her travels or the South Pole. When we both stay up late because I don’t want to give in too early and miss out on our conversations.” He considers a moment longer, sips his tea again, then glances towards Iroh’s shoe. “Maybe this whole trip.” Iroh hums. “Katara is a lovely girl,” he says. “She’s one of the best people I know,” Zuko agrees. “And one of your favorites.” Ironically, the notion hadn’t quite crossed Zuko’s mind until the words were laid out in front of him. But she is, isn’t she? It’s becoming harder to imagine what life would be like without her there in some way or another. Be it like this, them side by side and adventuring. Or something else. He hasn’t quite figured out the ‘something else’. Letters, maybe, hopefully quite frequent if she cannot be nearby. He doesn’t like the idea of her not being nearby. “She’s one of my best friends,” he says and Iroh snorts.

Summery: Realizing they're close to Ba Sing Se, Zuko and Katara agree to stop in the city to visit with Uncle Iroh. (Posted for @zutaraweek day seven, sweet!)

Word Count: 10'949

Rating: G (canon typical mentions of Zuko's childhood and also the war)

Read Here!

And read the rest of Circumnavigators of Celestial Bodies here! (series can be read in any order but is listed chronologically here!)

#zutara #zutara week #zutara fanfic #zuko #katara #prince zuko #avatar #avatar the last airbender #atla #atla fan fic #my fic #zutara week 2024

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 2 years ago

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The Season 2 Poster Details

From top to bottom :)

This is a Buddy Holly song Everyday which was originally supposed to be the Good Omens theme :)

Neil talks about it in the Introduction to the Script Book: “In the scripts, Buddy Holly’s song ‘Every Day’ runs through the whole like a thread. It was something that Terry had suggested in 1991, and it was there in the edit. Our composer, David Arnold, created several different versions of ‘Every Day’ to run over the end credits. And then he sent us his Good Omens theme, and it was the Good Omens theme. Then Peter Anderson made the most remarkable animated opening credits to the Good Omens theme, and we realised that ‘Every Day’ didn’t really make any sense any longer, and, reluctantly, let it go. It’s here, though. You can hum it.”

And there is also the Buddy Holly Everyday record! :)

Book The Crow Road by Iain Banks. The novel describes Prentice McHoan's preoccupation with death, sex, his relationship with his father, unrequited love, sibling rivalry, a missing uncle, cars, alcohol and other intoxicants, and God, against the background of the Scottish landscape

Book Lord Jim by Joseph Conrad. An early and primary event in the story is the abandonment of a passenger ship in distress by its crew, including a young British seaman named Jim. He is publicly censured for this action and the novel follows his later attempts at coming to terms with himself and his past and seeking redemption and acceptance.

Important themes in Lord Jim include the consequences of a single, poor decision, the indifference of the universe, and the inability to know oneself or others.

There is book The Body Snatcher by Robert Louis Stevenson. Its characters were based on criminals in the employ of real-life surgeon Robert Knox (1791–1862) around the time of the notorious Burke and Hare murders (1828). Neil said: Oddly enough, episode 3 will take us to a little stint of body snatching in the era.

There is Catch-22 book by Joseph Heller that coined the term Catch-22: situation from which an individual cannot escape because of contradictory rules or limitations.

Is there only one hand or are there two? :) EIther 6 ;), or 6:30 :).

Through the window we can see the coffeeshop Give Me Coffe or Give Me Death where Nina works! :)

Azi is wearing his nifty glasses :).

Crowley is wearing his new glasses, they are RIGARDS X UMA WANG - THE STONE ECLIPSE (VINTAGE BLACK/BLACK STONES) - $435

There is the Holy Bible Aziraphale used in Season 1 :)

There seems to be a broken phone :).

The cakes behind Aziraphale are Eccles cakes :).

Azi is reading A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens published in 1859, set in London and Paris before and during the French Revolution. The novel tells the story of the French Doctor Manette, his 18-year-long imprisonment in the Bastille in Paris, and his release to live in London with his daughter Lucie whom he had never met. The story is set against the conditions that led up to the French Revolution and the Reign of Terror.

Another book there is Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen - Neil said said that we will learn a lot about Jane Austin we didn’t know before.

And finally the Treasure Island book by - again :) - Robert Louis Stevenson, an adventure novel with pirates.

There are three geckos cuties. Who are they? Pets? Is Ligur haunting the bookshop? Who knows :).

A mysterious pamphlet, 'The Resurrectionists’ leaflet. (unofficial spoiler :)).

Also there is an old camera... mmm 🤔 Did Azi made some photos (of what? Him and Crowley, ducks? :)) Will we see them? :)

Their positions is an homage to the book covers! :)(x)

Will update this as fandom discovers new things! :)❤

#good omens #gos2 #season 2 #posters #s2 poster details #fun fact #robert louis stevenson #jane austen #joseph heller #charles dickens #can't waiiiit #wahoo!

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cozage · 8 months ago

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Hi, Coza! I hope you are doing well! I miss your writings and am so excited to see your requests are open! :)

I saw a post by sunshinescribes that talked about how Law doesn’t believe in unconditional love and how he thinks relationships should be transactional. Hopefully I can properly link it here because they do a really good job at explaining it: https://www.tumblr.com/sunshinescribes/728643191573757952/i-think-the-most-tragic-part-of-laws-character-is

I was wondering if it was possible to have a scenario based off of this post of reader just appreciating and loving Law because they want to. Like maybe they’re just waking up and reader is using the rare moment of peace and quiet in bed to spill all of their love and sappy thoughts to him. He deserves all of the comfort, love, and care 😭

A/N: Thanks for this devastatingly lovely prompt! Here's the post for everyone if you want to go give it a read (and a like!) Characters: gn reader x Law Cw: none :) Total word count: 850

There Are No Conditions

The way the light refracted through the cabin window in the morning and bounced off of Law’s ravenous hair was one of your favorite things in this world. It was one of the few times he didn’t have a scowl on his face. He rarely smiled in his sleep, but his face almost always looked so peaceful. His eyelids fluttered for a moment, and then his face turned soft again. He must have been having a good dream.

You noticed he was starting to get a few gray hairs. He must have been under some kind of stress recently. Though he always seemed to be since you all had entered the New World. You knew he had a lot on his mind, and you wished there was something you could do to make his life easier. You wanted to bear that burden with him.

“Do you need something?” Law’s voice came out hoarse, but his sudden alertness had startled you slightly.

“Nothing at all,” you said sweetly. “Just admiring you in this light.”

He groaned and pulled you in closer to him. “We’re getting curtains at the next island.”

You gave an exasperated gasp, but snuggled in tightly to him knowing his threat was empty. “And you would deny me of such a simple pleasure for what? Extra sleep?”

His eyes cracked open at your words and he peered down at you. “You cannot enjoy watching me sleep.”

You gave a sheepish smile. “It’s one of my favorite things in this world, Trafalgar Law. In fact, you’re one of my favorite things in this whole world, so everything that you do is automatically good in my eyes.”

He rolled his eyes, clearly not believing you. “Flattery is a little thick today. You might want to tone it down, or I’ll catch on to the fact that you want something.”

You stuck your tongue out at his words. “All I wanted was to look at you while you sleep!”

“Freak.” He paired his words with a kiss to your forehead to show he didn’t actually mean them.

The two of you were silent for a while. You thought he had fallen back asleep, so you occupied your time tracing over his tattoos. But after a few minutes, he spoke again.

“Okay, seriously-” He pulled back slightly to look at you. He tended to do that when he wanted to make sure you were being truthful. “What did you want to do today?”

You were never good at hiding your emotions. You knew they had all washed over your face in a matter of seconds, and Law could read them all with intense precision. Confusion. Knowing. Irritation. And then, understanding.

“I don’t want anything from you, Law,” you explained. “I was just…enjoying the view? I don’t know how to say it correctly. I find myself staring sometimes because I find you interesting.”

Law’s brows scrunched together in confusion. “If you wanted a good view, the deck and the sea are far more interesting. Especially at this time of day.”

You gave a humorless laugh. “I love you more than I love the sea, idiot.”

He froze at those words, and you could see him struggling to make sense of them. “So you were staring at me…?”

“Because I love you,” you finished for him.

That didn’t seem to help. “And you love me because…?”

“I don’t know!” You gave out a sharp laugh at the thought. “There are no reasons and so many reasons! But there are no conditions for my love, Law! I just love you because I love you. I can’t say exactly why I love you. I just do!”

You had really done it now. You were fairly certain you had never seen Law more confused or more flustered than he was in this moment. He gave a hard swallow and nodded his head, but you could tell further clarification was still needed.

“You don’t understand,” you said, watching his eyes turn to the ceiling. If they went there, that usually meant he was lost in thought.

He shrugged. “I do, in a way. I feel that way about you, but I…well, I never expected someone to feel that way about me.”

The weight of his words made your heart sink. He deserved more than anyone to know how much he was treasured. You would die for him for no other reason than love. And while he could grasp the concept, he couldn’t understand why someone would feel that way towards him.

“How about I tell you all the things I love about you?” you offered softly, trying to pull him away from his thoughts. It was too early to be thinking of such deep topics.

His eyes shifted over to you, and you could see he was half alarmed by your offer. But you could see the smallest spark of intrigue.

So you began listing everything you could think off, absentmindedly still tracing over his tattoos.

The sun was more than halfway across the sky before you finished. And there was a soft smile on his face during your all’s afternoon nap.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #law x y/n #law x you #cozage #✧˚law✧˚

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zephyrspace · 10 months ago

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queen of thine heart

riddle rosehearts / gn!reader

synopsis : they say the queen of hearts always had her loving husband rule alongside her. unfortunately for heartslabyul, their queen's king attends a different academy. but you know what they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder.

or ; in hearing your lover's recent overblot, you disregard the rules and infiltrate nrc to make sure your queen is alright, much to the surprise of the cards.

content : established relationship, implied childhood friends, rsa!reader, fluff, sprinkle of angst, crack, no use of yn, reader is not the prefect, reader is referred to as 'king' in a gender neutral way (like how riddle as queen), fic is more focused on the dynamic of their relationship rather than of the relationship itself (but perhaps another fic is in order...), riddle's pov kinda?, just a very short oneshot.

word count : 1.5k

The door opens but nobody that's already in the room thinks too much of it, until someone unfamiliar speaks.

"Good evening, Card Soldiers."

The mild bickering ceased to exist entirely. The door clicks shut.

The first years couldn't tell if it was an illusion or not, but they swear they saw the Housewarden of Heartslabyul tense at the sound of the person's voice and averted his gaze. Shoes tap against the floor tiles until they stop at the foot of Riddle's designated recovery bed.

The newcomer wore the eyesore that was the Royal Sword Academy uniform, but the things that caught the attention of specifically the Prefect would be the scarily regal presence that the person exudes, and the badge pinned against the left lapel of the stranger's blazer, an exact replica of the crown Riddle adorns on his school tie.

They brandish a polite smile, "you are dismissed."

It was clear to everyone that this person will not accept any other answer than compliance - "RSA? Who're you to tell us what to do? And what are you even doing here?" - well, except for one.

Ace raises a brow, lacking any form of decorum or respect, as per usual. The temperature of the room seemingly dropped, and yet, the stranger was still smiling.

Before Ace gets an answer, he feels a sharp jab at his side and a hand resting between his shoulder blades. Trey is quickly ushering all of them out of the infirmary. The heart soldier watches the academy student and the Vice exchange a look and a nod.

The door clicks shut once again.

With everyone now gone, you walk over to Riddle's left of the bed. Right hand against your heart, you bow your head, a custom.

"I greet the sovereign of Heartslabyul, the everlasting law, the Queen of my own heart," you cannot hide the smile in your voice and Riddle hates it in an affectionate sort of way.

"Must you always greet me incorrectly?"

"I am but a mere servant to your rule," you give him a cheeky grin, and with a touch as light as a feather, you take his right hand to press a quick kiss to the knuckles. Riddle sports a pout as he retracts his arm, but you never take him seriously when he's beet red, always a sucker to your flowery words.

Despite this, he has not once looked you in the eyes since you arrived.

Silence and tranquillity floods the atmosphere but anybody can feel the underlying tension beneath the layers. You shatter the quiet.

"I came as soon as I could." You sit down on the edge of the bed and he shuffles to the opposite side so that you do not fall off.

"I know." Riddle's sight is focused on the bed sheets where his hands rested. He watches your hands clasp over his, your touch is warm and just slightly sweaty, but he would never care for something so little.

Besides, he can tell by the sound of your breathing that you're still recovering from the journey. Upperclassmen say that it takes almost two or three hours to walk from one end of Sage's Island to the other, and this is without factoring the mountain you'd have to climb to get to NRC.

"I really thought I lost you when I was notified by one of the cards." Riddle can feel your stare and the sorrow in your words. You probably dropped everything to get here.

"I know." He takes a quick glance at the clock on the wall. How did you even manage to get to the college in just a little over an hour since he was admitted into the infirmary?

"You need to make me lots of crosswords to make up for it." The Housewarden clenches his jaw and thinks you are too forgiving compared to how much inconvenience and worry he's caused you.

Why are you not reprimanding his recklessness? Why would you risk a dorm-arrest to visit him with no prior permission? He reckons that your sentence would last at least a week if the professors find out of your absence, two weeks if you used a broom without authorisation. After this, would you think of him as a nuisance or embarrassment and leave him-

Sensing all of his inner turmoil, you reach out to carefully fix his dishevelled hair back into place and cup his cheek, coaxing his head in your direction so that he finally, finally looks at you.

Riddle's eyes are glassy with unshed tears, but the steadying pulse under the palm of your hand is soothing, your gaze is soft and full of something that is unconditional. Riddle knows that he can stay looking at you until forever falls apart.

Thumbing the flesh gently, you are watchful not to touch any gauze or smudge remnants of ointment. "Crosswords aside, I implore that you tell me, my Queen: What ails you so? Have I done something to be undeserving of your gaze?" Though, that last part was supposed to sound more like a joke.

"No!" He belts out before he could process your teasing lilt. "I mean- I- That's not- Ugh!"

Riddle gives up at the sight of your smug face and relaxes into your hold for just a few more moments, not caring for his burning cheeks or the delicacy that his lover offers him, only wanting to feel them wholly and fully.

He expels out a shaky breath, sits up straight, and lets everything go. Riddle tells you everything. The collars, the unbirthday, the tart, the duel. Riddle expresses his revelation about his mother and her rules. He confesses that you were right this entire time, and that he hopes you can forgive him for the times he denied it and admonished you.

Riddle's story ends and your brows furrow with guilt, "I knew I should have transferred to Night Raven. Maybe it would have prevented-"

He is quick to lace your fingers together with his own and silences you right away. "Perish the thought. You are not to blame. Not you. Never you."

Deciding to reward his efforts of attempting to distract you from your own thoughts, you sigh and lean in so that your foreheads touch, and Riddle does not oppose the connection. Closing your eyes, you breathe out lightly, quietly, as if only the two of you existed.

"You have tormented yourself in such a manner for far too long, my loveliest rose."

At that moment, Riddle swears up and down to The Seven that he has never been so in love. He looks down at your joined hands and smiles for the first time that day.

"I promise not to do it again, my Liege."

[ Extra ]

"What the hell was that for!?" Ace rubs his side tenderly after Cater elbowed him earlier. He earns disapproving glances from his seniors and unsurprising stares from Deuce, Prefect and Grim.

"Be more careful, Ace-y. They're the Housewarden slash Ruler of their own dorm back in RSA, but is also the Honorary King of Heartslabyul because they're Riddle's partner," Cater pulls up pictures of you from the academy's official magicam and shows the first years. "So that means they're in the same position of power as him in 'labyul, so you need'ta treat them like it."

Ace snatches the phone from his grasp and scrolls through the content, in denial. The other first years crowd around him. "Partners? With that Tyrant?? There is no way Housewarden was able to pull before me."

They all stare at the photos of you doing a plethora of activities, presumably around the rival school. Gardening, directing students, baking, tea parties, generally doing nice things. Yuck.

Ace tries to find your personal magicam but Cater yanks his phone back, exasperated, "I think they've been together for almost two years now, so it's not like it's new news."

"Myah, I don't know about you guys, but this 'King' of yours looks like a weak-ass, lovesick simp. Simp in capital letters, bold font and red text," Grim had lifted himself up and peaked through the window in the door to the infirmary, watching the royalties speak softly to each other.

The two third years give each other a look and both can vividly imagine the sound of your laughter and you saying that you wholeheartedly agree with Grim.

"I still don't get why you just followed their orders without question. I should show them the mighty power of The Great Grim, and then we'll see who's the real king! Nyahaha- Yowch!" Deuce had smacked the monster in the head.

Trey leans against the wall beside the closed entrance, crosses his arms and chuckles at the statement. He looks over his shoulder and also observes the duo inside.

"I've known them since we were kids, and trust me, Grim, they aren't someone you can mess with and get away with it unscathed."

He chooses not to mention how Grim fails to see the pure concentration of magic emanating from your figure.

#twst x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #gn!reader #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x reader #posts the yearly fic and runs away #teehee #i should really post that azul fic i made two years ago...#aha #yikes

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camcat1320 · 8 days ago

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The Fortune-Teller does not deserve the hate it has received. It's actually a great episode that people misunderstand. Let me explain.

Kataangers love the episode for it says Katara is destined to be with Aang. Zutarians hate the episode for this reason along with forcing Katara into a pigeon hole. I stand between these warring tribes and say that they are both wrong.

To be clear, I am a Zutarian. If we would've had a Book 4 like the head writer had intended, this episode would've been integral for that book.

"But the 3-act story structure!" some may argue. A 3-act story structure is just a 4-act story structure in disguise.

Anyways, let's continue.

The destiny that Aunt Wu foretells does not give names and is vague in nature. She tells Katara that she is to be married to a powerful bender. She didn't say the most powerful nor did she say bender of all four elements. One doesn't have to be the Avatar to be a powerful bender.

Come Aang's fortune, she foretold of a great battle between good and evil that will determine the fate of the world. We immediately think of Aang battling Firelord Ozai to end the 100 year war. However, this fortune is vague and could foretell another battle after Ozai has fallen.

When Aunt Wu learns that Aang wants to learn about his future about love, she cheers him up by giving him a vague, seemingly harmless white lie to satisfy him. "Follow your heart and you will be with the one you love." Since Aang is 12, he can easily misconstrue infatuation for love.

I believe The Fortune-Teller is a giant red herring that many people in both Zutara and Kataang sectors have fallen for. But wait, what is a red herring?

In literature, a red herring is a device to throw the characters and the audience off the scent of future events. It's meant to distract and deceive.

At the end of The Fortune-Teller, Katara believes she is destined to be with Aang and Aang believes it as well. Throughout the remainder of the series, Katara's emotional bond with Aang is challenged. Then by The Ember Island Players, Katara is confused, unsure about her feelings, unsure about her destiny.

What other character struggled with his perception of his destiny?

For the majority of the series, Zuko falsely believed that his destiny was to hunt down the Avatar and regain his honor. We know that this destiny was forced upon him by his father, Ozai.

But as Iroh has said, "Destiny is a funny thing." Iroh had believed he would have been in Ba Sing Se as a conqueror but instead, he had liberated Ba Sing Se from Fire Nation occupation.

Zuko had turned against his father and his supposed destiny and set out to aid the Avatar instead. After this, Zuko's new belief is that it is his destiny to help Aang in defeating Ozai instead. Truly, destiny is funny that way.

But why is this only applied to Zuko? Why isn't this the same message given to Katara's arc? Is she truly destined to be with Aang and she cannot fight against this fate? Is this strong female character destined to be reduced to servitude?

The same girl that inspired imprisoned earthbenders to fight back? The same girl that fought against gender roles in her own culture? The same girl that didn't give into despair and led her crew out of the desert? The same girl that aided in healing a Fire Nation village? The same girl that rose above her mentor and used bloodbending to save her loved ones? The same girl that went toe to toe with Azula and won?

I SAY NAY!

Imagine, if you will, what Katara's continued arc could've been like in Book 4. Katara would've defied the destiny that was forced upon her and determined her destiny for herself. But in the end, destiny is a funny thing for this action only plays into fate. Zuko is a powerful bender after all. 👀

Now, I must depart before I give too many spoilers for my writing. Fare thee well, until we meet again!

#atla #atla fanfic #zutara #avatar the last airbender #book 4 air the missing element #atla analysis #red herring #aaron ehasz notice me senpai

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sunsetsover · 13 days ago

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anyway so i literally cannot stop thinking about that fucking exchange on the swing. the way they're both laid so bare with neither of their secrets still stuck between them - not kant's, and not bison's either. and there's bison, with none of his bravado or anger left, just all small and quiet and docile between kant's arms. and there's kant holding him and sniffing him and stroking his hair and kissing his head because this is all he wanted, what he didn't dare to want yet somehow he's got it anyway, and there's just this very subtle feeling of him not quite being able to believe it, like he thinks maybe if he stops touching bison he'll disappear or kant will wake up and it'll all be over. like he has to soak it all in now before it gets taken away from him again. whereas bison looks like he could fall asleep at any moment because he knows now what he always knew, even when he thought kant was a snitch: there's nowhere safer for him to sleep than with kant at his side.

and then there's the conversation that they have, the first real one they ever get to have. and it tells us so much, but it almost feels like there's two conversations going on at once: what they're saying and what's being left unsaid. kant telling bison he's surprised bison is capable of hurting anyone. and bison's answer is 'grudges will make you do something you never expect you could', but what he's not saying is neither did i. and he says after he does it he has to get out, get away, do something fun to forget about it. and what he's not saying is i don't like it. and kant asks him if he plans on living like this, and he makes a joke about how it's exhausting living two lives, but what he's not saying is i'm worried about you. he says 'you can quit and start over' and what he's not saying is i will help you. we can do this together. i love you.

and then just. the vulnerability of bison to be like. 'i can't quit. this is the reality of what i do. i don't get a normal life. i don't get a happy ending. i don't get to settle down. i don't even get to keep my big brother. i don't get a home or a family or a lover. i'll always be running and hiding.' and the unspoken question is there: is that ok? will that be enough for you? would you still want me anyway, even if our entire lives will be one sacrifice after another?

but god, isn't kant made of sacrifice? isn't sacrifice how kant loves? so without even a second of hesitation kant says 'you have me.' and what he's really saying is i'm right here. i'm not going anywhere. you can't scare me off.

and you know what's crazy? with fadel all bison talks about is quitting, getting away, living his life. he wants it desperately but there's also something recklessly eager about it, like everything he'd done up until now would just disappear. but with kant it's always 'i can't, i promised, how can i?'. his responsibilities are always there with kant, as is the reality of what he is, what he would have to do, how he would have to live. but in that moment he finally says ok. well if i were to quit, this is how it would have to be. i'd have to hide forever, on this island away from the rest of the world. this is what it would be like. ok. ok. and then somehow, somehow he manages to be even more vulnerable when he's like kant. if i were to quit, would you move here with me? and underneath that, what he's really saying is this is all i have. is this enough? could i be enough?

and kant huffs and he pretends he has to think about it, but of course. of course he'd live here with bison. he'd go anywhere with bison. and it's a full sentence. nothing left unsaid.

but bison! bison never forgets his reality for too long, so of course he's like 'well what about babe?' and he's right of course, but can't you feel it? how desperately he's trying to scare kant off? to give him an out, a reason to doubt, to waver? but kant doesn't. he's steadfast. after a lifetime of 'no's he's been given his first 'yes', you really think a little thing like an island surrounded by ocean is gonna scare him off? god no. so he gives him the truth: once babe graduates, he'll be off to live his own life and it'll be time for kant to finally live his own. after a lifetime of living for babe, he'll live for something new. he'll live for bison. and i've seen people like 'no, he should live for himself!' which yeah i get it. but don't forget that this is kant's choice. after god knows how many years of never being able to chose what to do with his own life, he finally has a choice. and he's choosing bison. to love him. to sacrifice - not out of necessity for once, but by choice. because he can. because he wants to. because he loves bison, and wherever bison goes he'll follow.

and it's just. there were so many words said in that scene and so many kisses shared but honestly to me it all boiled down to this feeling of bison posing all these questions and throwing all these half-hearted obstacles in kant's way and asking still? still? you love me still? and kant's unwavering answer of yes, yes, yes, always.

#kantbison #the heart killers #thk meta #they make me. so fucking unbelievably unwell.

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gigabyte-flare · 2 years ago

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The Dark of You

(A Gigabyte Flare One Shot)

Summary: Leon S. Kennedy returns home to you from an assignment in San Francisco in desperate need to relieve some tension

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairing: Death Island!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

CONTAINS DEATH ISLAND SPOILERS

Warnings: sex (p in v), age gap (reader is 26), very mild angst, choking, degradation, pet names, breeding kink

A/N: This is 5000% self indulgent. I cannot, for the life of me, get Death Island!Leon out of my head since watching the movie. The title is inspired by Dark of You by Breaking Benjamin

“Fade away to the wicked world we left,

And I become the dark of you.”

The anticipation is killing you. About an hour ago Leon had let you know he landed in D.C. and is on his way back home. He had been on an assignment in San Francisco, he didn’t say what for, he never disclosed any of his assignments to you. He insisted it was to protect you. You have been sitting on the couch, watching TV as you wait for Leon to come home but fatigue is starting to get the better of you, so you decide to turn off the TV and go to bed. A small inkling of guilt ate at you; you wanted to greet him when he got home.

Walking into the bedroom, you pull back the covers, slipping beneath them and getting yourself comfortable. You fall asleep within minutes; that’s not like you. Your constant worry for Leon clearly exhausted you. You’re suddenly awoken by the feeling of someone kissing the crook of your neck, an unshaven face scratching at yours. You recognize the cologne and his masculine scent immediately.

“Mmmm… there you are, Leon…” you say softly as you’re pulled from your slumber.

“I hit traffic on the way home, I hope I didn’t worry you,” Leon replies, his voice still muffled by your neck.

“When am I not worried about you?” you ask, turning your body to face him.

You immediately notice he looks ragged and exhausted, with dark bags under his ocean eyes and his hair slightly disheveled. He is still wearing his combat vest over his dark gray t-shirt and his blue leather jacket over that.

“You look like hell.”

“I feel like hell, I think my age is starting to catch up to me, love,” he says, bending down to kiss your forehead.

“Stop talking like you're 80, you’re only 38, you’re not old.” you tease, playfully punching one of his biceps.

For some reason, unknown to you, Leon was very self conscious about the age gap between you two. You can’t count how many times you reassured him that his age didn’t matter to you, that the 12 year gap between you didn’t bother you; you’ve been seeing him for almost a year.

“It’s not like you started dating me out of high school, you’re not a creep!” you recall telling him constantly.

He smirks at you, running a hand through your hair, “I’m going to hit the shower, I’ll be right out.”

You nod at him, watching as he goes into the adjacent bathroom, not bothering to shut the door behind him. You listen as he turns on the shower and you can hear the sound of his clothing hitting the floor. You let out a deep sigh of relief, grateful that he’s home and safe. Even though he didn’t talk about his work with you, you knew one thing for certain.

His job is dangerous.

You watch as Leon comes out of the bathroom, a pair of light gray sweats barely hanging onto his hips as he dries his hair with a towel, giving you a beautiful view of his ‘happy trail.’ Tossing the towel aside, he fixes his damp hair with his hands before climbing into bed with you, immediately wrapping you in his arms, nuzzling his face into your hair as he breathes deeply. You feel him kiss your hair over and over, like he couldn’t get enough of you.

“I’m so glad you’re home, Leon,” you tell him, snuggling into his embrace.

“Me too,” Leon replies, “I… I almost didn’t make it back…”

“What?” you look up at him, sitting up, your eyes full of concern.

You can tell by Leon’s pained expression that he was struggling on whether or not to tell you what happened. You watch him sigh and he clears his throat.

“I got infected with a virus--”

“What?! Do we need to get you to a hospital? I can take you!” You panic, throwing the blankets off you as you start to climb out of bed, but one of Leon’s strong hands grab your upper arm, stopping you.

“Babe, I’m fine… I got vaccinated, I’m not infected anymore. It’s… actually not the first time that’s happened.”

You tuck yourself back under the blankets, laying your head back down on the pillow as you continue to listen to Leon.

Leon lets out a soft chuckle, “if I had a nickel each time I’ve been infected with something… I’d have two nickels.”

You can’t help but laugh, even though hearing this from him made you worry more, but you don’t say anything and let him continue.

“I know that’s not a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.”

You shake your head, cupping his face in your hands and kiss him as you’re laughing.

“Unfortunately, there was one casualty,” he says, his lips still pressed against yours.

You pull back, raising an eyebrow at him.

“The bike got wrecked…”

“Oh sweetheart,” you coo, running your fingers through his hair, “I’m so sorry, I know you loved that bike.”

“It’s alright, if I had to choose between the bike and coming back home safely to you, I’d pick you. Every time.”

In an instant, one of his hands grasps the back of your head, pulling you to him to kiss you ravenously. His tongue makes its way into your mouth, dancing with yours as he lets out a low growl. He climbs on top of you, pinning you to the bed as his hands work to pull off your underwear, tossing them aside as he continues to kiss you vigorously.

Meanwhile, your hands are working to get his sweatpants off him, finally getting them pulled down when he kicks them off. His hands grasp at the front of your tank top, ripping it apart to expose your breasts. His hands grasp at them as you pull off the remnants of the tank top, tossing it aside off the side of the bed to join your underwear. Before you know it, he’s manhandling you, getting you on all fours on the bed, positioning himself behind you as he wraps his left arm around your neck as he uses the other to position his hard member against your thoroughly soaked cunt. He pulls back, choking you with his arm but not enough to outright strangle you; a favorite position of yours, admittedly. You love it when he’s rough with you.

“You want this old man’s cock, don’t you, pretty girl?” he growls in your ear, his hot breath on your ear sending chills down your spine, straight to your aching hole.

“Y-Yes!” you manage to reply, gasping for air as his arm gives your neck a nice squeeze.

“Of course you do, you dirty slut.”

You feel Leon bully his cock into your leaking entrance, your fingers curling and gripping the sheets as he begins to pound into you with vicious ferocity. His right hand grips your hip like a vice; that’s going to leave a bruise later. He lets out a half moan, half growl as you feel him adjust his position, getting on one knee to get a better angle to fuck into you as deep and as hard as he possibly could.

“F-Fuck! Too… too much!” you manage to say, his arm still squeezing your neck.

“You can take it, baby, I know you can,” he purrs, thrusting even harder into you, “gonna breed this pretty little kitty.”

His words make your clit throb and your walls tighten around his cock, causing you to cry out. With one of your hands, you reach between your legs, rubbing your aching clit with your index and middle finger, making your body tremble. Leon picks up on this immediately, chuckling in your ear.

“Oh? You like that? You want this old man’s cum? You want me to fuck a baby into you?”

Your cunt squeezes around him again as you nod, moaning as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. He leans over you, kissing the side of your neck before giving you several hickies as he pushes his hips deep inside you, the head of his dick kissing your cervix, filling you with a sense of euphoria, your arms reach up and gripping the arm still wrapped around your neck.

“Leon… I’m.. I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum…!”

“Good… such a good little slut you are,” he growls, giving you a playful bite on your earlobe.

After a few more powerful thrusts, he pushes himself as deep inside you as he possibly could go and you feel the burning warmth of his release as you come undone on him. Gasping, tears of relief stream down your face. Leon stays inside you for a few minutes as both of you catch your breath, having removed his arm from your neck. Eventually, he pulls himself out of you, hooking your waist with one of his arms and pulling you back so that he could cuddle with you. You give each other gentle, tired kisses until you both eventually fall asleep in each other's arms.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #di!leon kennedy #resident evil death island #death island spoilers #gigabyte writes

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