#riley deserved so much better

[acecroft]

SHAWN WEATHERLY as Jill Riley in Baywatch (1989 - 2001) Season 1

[where-our-stories-start]

[starlightsweetheart]

Some friendship... (also I'm fucking up past and present tenses, but idgaf)

You know I just realized how absolutely humongous a crock of shit the whole Maya turning into Riley because she's getting better grades thing is, and that Riley only was accusing her of that because of Lucas. I mean, I knew it was bullshit before, but I never really though of how gigantic a 💩 it was until today.

Girl Meets Father is the fourth episode of season one. In that episode, Cory gives Maya an F on her test. Maya gets upset that she failed the test.

Maya tells Riley that "sometimes, I'm not so proud of who I am".

Maya tells Riley and Cory that she "tried to write like I was smart", Riley responds that Maya is smart.

Cory corrects Maya on one answer of the test saying "it's a tiny difference but an important one. Because if you know it, Maya, you don't fail". Maya then replies "I want to not fail".

Riley was encouraging Maya, while Cory was quizzing her on the subject of the test.

Maya says to Cory: "I just don't wanna fail, Mr. Matthews.

We go from that (Riley encouraging Maya to grow and better herself) to season three, Girl Meets Triangle, where Riley accuses Maya that the person that Maya has grown into is not who she really is.

Riley tell the art teacher that "Maya's a rebel". That Maya dances on teachers' desks, is the queen of detention and the president of Mayaville.

Riley is saying that Maya needs to be fixed because "she's been getting good grades, she's behaving all over the place".

Maya tells Riley, "I'm me! I've always been me, I'm always gonna be me! Nothings going to change that!", Riley retorts with"you haven't stood on a teachers desk or been in detention for a long time. You sold your house in Mayaville and you moved to Rileytown."

No matter what Maya says, Riley keeps insisting that Maya turned into her, blah blah blah.

Riley goes on about how Maya's style has changed towards Riley's style.

So, in the beginning of the series Riley was encouraging Maya to grow and do better. Maya even told Riley that she's not proud of who she is. Maya does mature and grow...

THEN Riley finds out that Maya likes the same guy as her. That can't happen, she can't have Lucas choosing Maya; so she accuses Maya of becoming her and wants Maya to become that failure that Maya thought she was in the beginning of the series (plus telling Maya that while Riley will have one husband, Maya will go through 5 husbands and that Lucas won't be one of them). Riley accuses Maya pulling the fire alarm, of stealing from the cafe (for me, that kind of accusation is something that a friendship can never bounce back from) and she basically forces Maya to revert back to the person she wasn't proud of being, to believe that she doesn't deserve good things or good guys... all because they like the same guy.

Thus, by the end of the series; Riley destroyed all of Maya's growth and forced Maya's regression and Riley became a hypocrite.

[deadunderorbit]

Teya & Selena - Who the Hell is Edgar?

See it’s because his call sign is Ghost and they ar-

[natelia-aldelliz]

Guys... Listen I know I said I'd draw something for valentine's day but I had a bit of a rough week sooooo I'm just going to write it out instead, maybe I'll finish drawing it some day, maybe not. It's behind a show more because it's long.

(also there's talks about having sex but no actual sex, and like, general warnings about Ghost's backstory but it's very vague here).

Soap was hanging around outside, trying to bring himself to do something, anything. But the weather was nice for a February day, and the sun was out, and it was making him feel like a cat basking in the heat.

An arm wrapped itself around his shoulders, a huge body suddenly weighing on him. Ghost.

Soap hummed comfortably. This day was getting better by the minute. Any chill he might have felt from being outside in a tank top out of pure Scottish spite was instantly soothed.

Simon often times saw himself as a cold man, freezing to the touch, hidden behind a layer of ice. A proper little Elsa, Soap almost snorted out loud. The truth was that while yes, his fingers and toes' temperature was sometimes abysmal, especially in bed, the rest of him was the warmest place Johnny had ever been.

"I've got something for you in our room," Ghost whispered against his throat, making Soap shiver.

Simon had begun calling Soap's room theirs a few weeks ago and Johnny couldn't have enough of it. He was so in love it genuinely hurt sometimes to restrain himself from squeezing him to death.

"Is that so?" he purrs, knowing how Ghost likes that. If this day didn't end in sex he'd be very surprised. He'd long learned to recognize when Simon wanted sex and when he didn't, and the way he squeezed his pec in response to his voice was a very easy tell.

But then again Simon was way less subtle than he thought he was.

They made their way back to their room, and there it was, a repurposed shoebox, badly wrapped with cheap wrapping paper. Johnny couldn't be more excited, he had never received any gift from a significant other. To be fair he adored gifting but always felt awkward receiving.

But this was Simon. Something that Simon had chosen to give him.

He sat on the bed, leaving enough space behind him for Ghost to sit there so he could use him as a very comfortable backrest. When he did, he grabbed the gift and began opening it.

He knew that Ghost liked to tear the wrapping paper, liked the sound of it and liked tearing it into the smallest pieces possible after, but he himself loved carefully unwrapping it and folding it flat so he could later maybe do an origami with it or put a piece in his journal. Probably both.

This one was full of tape but he still very much enjoyed himself, considered it a challenge. He enjoyed the chase, wanted to drag it on. Ghost huffed impatiently behind him, a bit tense, probably nervous.

Inside the box was a weird old fashioned clunky thing. It was bright red, looked slightly like binoculars, definitely from the 70's, with a wheel of tiny pictures wedged in the top of it. Memories hit him all at once.

"Oh my god ah remember, my Ma had one of these when ah was a child! My sister and I loved it, it had pretty landscapes in!"

He put it against his eyes, excited to see what this one came with. At his biggest surprise, it was a picture of them. Simon had customised it.

The picture showed the back of himself a bit further away from the camera, pointing at something while in full gear, in a dilapidated town, Ghost's face in the foreground looking at the camera. It looked like Soap was talking to someone, but that person was cut by the framing.

"Wait, ah remember that mission, it's when ah saved Gaz from a landmine just to be shot seconds later," he laughed. "ah spent two fucking weeks in the hospital, ah was miserable. Ye kept joking ah should hiv left Gaz explode while staring at him, he was convinced ye actually wanted him dead!"

Then the next picture was indeed him in his hospital bed, unconscious but the state of his injuries told him he was probably just sleeping at least a few days after his admission, his life no longer in danger. In this one, Ghost was sleeping too, head in his elbow near Soap's head and his other hand holding Soap's hand.

"Who took this one?" Soap asked, moved by the tenderness of Ghost's hold on him in the picture. It would have been right after Johnny had admitted to maybe liking him more than friends, before they were officially dating.

"The hospital one?"

Soap hummed.

"Price did. Said it was for blackmail. Should have seen him, he looked like his child had just married the person of their dreams and had ridden off into a rainbow on a unicorn or some shit. Old man's sentimental as fuck, but I didn't call him on his bullshit, he's already old, that's punishment enough."

Soap giggled in response. The next few pictures were all of them together but each time he was either turning his back or asleep.

"Why the fuck am ah never looking at the camera?" he whined. He wanted some cute couple pictures, dammit!

"Couldn't have you suspecting what I was planning," Simon said, kissing his shoulder soothingly. Only then Soap noticed that he had taken his mask off at some point and turned to ask for a proper kiss, which he immediately got.

"Keep going, there's more pictures," Simon whispered against his lips when he tried to turn around to kiss him some more. His pouting only got him a smirk in response, so he got comfortable again and brought the slide viewer back against his eyes.

He was happy he did. The next picture waiting for him was just Simon in the mirror, almost in full gear, but with one gloveless hand dragging his trousers down so the camera could see the bottom of his stomach, follow along his happy trail and reaching the very top of his pubic hair. The picture cut of his head, but he could see that his mouth was uncovered and he was holding the glove with his teeth.

Soap groaned. "Steaming Jesus, love, you're so hot."

He felt Simon hide his face in the back of his neck, warmer than usual, and chuckled a bit. He loved him so fucking much.

There were four more pictures of Simon, in various suggestive poses and states of undress, some almost showing his cock but never quite committing, making Johnny feel like he was being teased.

He was getting hard though and so ready to be done with the pictures and access the real thing. But Simon was still tense behind him. In fact, he had only gotten tenser and tenser with each click.

Soap was unsure why. They never had a problem with their sexual life, Simon had already changed his mind about having sex after starting and Soap had absolutely no problem with that, was glad to hug him instead and reassure him when he had tried to apologize.

Simon knew that there was no pressure, ever, to have sex. Hell, Johnny would still be happy even if Simon decided that he never wanted to have sex again, and he had made sure to make Simon understand that.

Then he got to the last picture and immediately understood.

It wasn't a picture of either of them, just a little bit of paper, with a few words written in Ghost's awful handwriting.

Just a few words that made Johnny drop the viewer on the covers and turn around to grab Simon's face, worriedly looking in his eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked, looking for any trace of Simon forcing himself. "Baby, ah'm happy to bottom for the rest of mah life, there's no pressure, okay?"

Simon looked at him with warmth in his eyes and his cheeks completely red, a wrapping bow added on top of his head. "I know," he said simply. "I just want to. I don't want to be haunted by memories anymore. I used to like it, and I want to like it again. With you. Just.... Be gentle, okay?"

Johnny kissed his forehead. "Ah dinnae think ah ken how no tae be gentle with ye, love."

[rabbithaver]

Your description of how you used to behave on the internet sounds like a lot of the people I am scared of on here. It gives me hope that everybody can change. As nasty as what they said is, I hope that person who messaged you can change and move on too.

ah, yeah. sadly this attitudes a lot of people on this website have are not at all conducive to a healthy environment for personal growth. people here will see someone make one poor choice or phrase a post badly and gleefully hold that mistake against the person who made it forever, and no apology however sincere will satisfy them.

i love Tumblr, i truly do, but having grown up here has done a *lot* of long-term damage to my mental health. the extreme moral OCD that i struggle with every day is a direct result of the impact this website's culture has had on me. admittedly a fair amount of that impact has also been caused by leftist facebook groups (collectively called Leftbook derogatorily by anybody who survived that meat grinder of a community.)

but that aside, you are absolutely right. the truth the internet refuses to believe is that EVERYBODY CAN CHANGE. nobody is "too far gone;" if they really want to change, then they can, and they should be supported!

[stories-and-coffee]

I'm just thinking about how riley wanted to be part of a family again so desperately that she joined the fireflies, and if she'd been immune like ellie, they could've had that together.

[morgiemors]

GOD respectfully some of y’all are insufferable— i hate it here

[peculiaritybending]

In an alternate universe Sidney & Tatum are married and Amber & Tara have been dating since middle school.

[gallopinggallifreyans]

Cannot believe 17 year old Ana had a crush on Angel. Angelus was RIGHT THERE.

[501st-rexster]

I miss them so much...

together

[rowarn]

IF YOU NEEDED ME !

simon riley/reader – 7.1k words sale of a lifetime mini series !

tags: smut, childhood best friend!simon, virginity for sale trope, unrealized feelings, soft!simon, protective!simon, virgin!reader, afab!reader, no prns for reader

cw: loss of virginity, cunnilingus, wet & messy, fingering, creampie, mid-sex love confession, a little arguing but nothing crazy tbh, petnames (love, lovie, sweetheart)

; he remembers the way you would look at him when you were children, all smiles and bright eyes. he never thought he was deserving of such happiness. but now, with you shyly covering your bare breasts, in his bed, he feels like he’s the only man deserving of you.

or.

he may not have been the first man you picked to give your first time to. but looking back, you realized he was the only right choice in the end.

Meeting some unknown, shady guy out on the street outside of a seedy bar wasn’t the smartest decision you’ve ever made. Nor was it how you actually intended to spend your Friday evening. But it was the only option you had at the moment, so you swallowed your nerves and forced yourself to stay put at the spot the guy had chosen despite the fact that being out on the street made you feel x10 more nervous and vulnerable. 

You could hear the loud music and chatter inside the bar every time the door opened to let someone in or out. There was a chill in the air that had you contemplating actually going inside and just telling the guy to meet you in there – you were about to give the bastard your damn virginity, the least he could be was accommodating to your temperature struggles. Plus, you could really use a drink.

A car, expensive by the looks of it, pulling up to the curb had you pausing in that train of thought. You recognized him from his profile picture when he stepped out of the vehicle – Lucas, you recall being his name. Whether that was really his name or not didn’t matter; all that mattered was he brought what he promised.

“You have the money?” you asked when he approached you, giving him a tight-lipped smile as a greeting.

“Yeah, got it in the car. All cash, I hope that’s alright,” he grinned, a sight that made a shiver go down your spine. His tone didn’t match the smile, all transactional and dull despite the glimmer in his eyes.

He wasn’t necessarily unattractive but he certainly wasn’t your type. There was a look in his eyes, one that made your skin crawl because you felt like you were nothing but a piece of raw meat in front of a starving, salivating predator. 

“We should get going,” he said, hurrying to open the backseat of his car for you.

You paused, “Aren’t we going to go inside or something?”

He looked confused, grip on the door tightening for a moment before he bursted out laughing. When he saw the shocked look on your face he sobered up, “Sorry, sorry, that was rude of me. Sweetheart, this isn’t a date. I’m just here to get what I paid for.”

“Oh…” you swallowed around the lump in your throat at the condescending tone, humiliation making your cheeks burn, “Right.”

Tears stung the back of your eyes and you quickly averted your gaze so he wouldn’t see how much that stung. Of course, you knew it wasn’t a date. This was a transaction. But you at least thought you’d get to know the guy who was about to take your virginity. You should have known better.

A man who was paying for your virginity wasn’t bound to be someone you could trust to feel comfortable around. You quietly sigh, resigning yourself to this all for the sake of some fucking money. 

You settle into the car, heart jumping into your throat when the door slams. It feels as if you’ve just sealed your fate and you can’t deny that you’re scared. 

But there’s an envelope next to you that you can see stuffed with bills and you clench your fists, trying to calm your racing heart by closing your eyes and breathing. 

You just hope this decision doesn’t cost you your life or something. You’d hate to imagine what that would do to a certain someone.

Suddenly, the car jostles. Your eyes snap open and you see Lucas is jacked up against the side of the car, a very familiar form caging him in. His scarred hands grip the man’s shirt in tight fists. You can’t hear what they’re saying but you can see Lucas is chattering frantically, gesturing wildly with his hands in an attempt to quell the angry man in the skull balaclava. 

You curse to yourself, a different kind of terror shocking through your system. Lucas is thrown to the side and you wince at how hard he hits the pavement before the car door is jerked open.

You can’t even say anything before a strong, rough hand wraps around your arm, yanking you out. You stumble once you’re on your feet, falling right into his chest. 

You try to pull away but his arm clamps down around you. 

Lucas is cursing and screaming his head off, words you don’t even bother to try and decipher because you’re too preoccupied with the masked figure that made his sudden appearance. Nerves make your knees shake and from the look of pure rage in his eyes, you know you’re in deep shit. 

Lucas opens the car door and slams it before driving off, tires squealing against the pavement before he vanishes. Along with that wad of cash that was going to be yours in just a short time. 

Suddenly you’re angry, shoving your hands against his chest to get him away from you.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Riley?!” you shriek, shooting him the fiercest glare you could muster.

“I should be askin’ you that,” he sneers, “The hell were you doin’ with that prick?”

“I–”

“Don’t answer that,” he snaps, cutting you off swiftly, “I know what you were doin’. If you needed money that badly you should have told me.”

“It’s not your concern, Simon!” you cry, resisting the urge to petulantly stomp your foot.

You’re so pissed. 

Simon Riley and you went way back, childhood friends. The two of you had always been in each other's lives. Simon especially was always there when you needed him, a beacon of safety and protection. Your best friend and someone you loved to the ends of the Earth. 

But right now, you’re so angry with him that you can’t seem to think straight.

How dare he show up now, when you’re about to do the most humiliating act of your entire life. How could he show his stupid, masked face here when you didn’t even ask for his help in the first place for a reason. 

“You are always my concern,” he shoots back, scarred knuckles turning white from how hard he clenches his fists, “I have always taken care of you. You should have come to me for help instead of puttin’ yourself in danger like this. You didn’t know that guy, what the fuck were you thinking?”

Anger makes your skin hot, sweat beading on your forehead, blocking out the chill that once made goosebumps rise. You feel ashamed that you were caught in this situation – that the man you’ve known your entire life knew you were about to sleep with some random asshole for a fat wad of cash. You don’t like that he’s made you feel ashamed and confronted you with it.

“Just fuck off, Simon!” you shriek, the only thing you can think of before turning on your heel and stalking away from him.

You don’t glance over your shoulder to check if he’s following because you know he most likely is – from a safe distance to make sure you make it inside your apartment alright but far enough that you can’t get mad at him for it. Your jaw is clenched so tightly that you feel a headache radiating down your neck. 

By the time you reach your apartment, the anger has simmered and all you’re left with is a festering shame that makes tears fill your eyes. You wrap your arms around yourself and quickly shuffle yourself inside, not bothering to check if Simon is out there or not. All you want is to get a hot shower and crawl into bed for the rest of the weekend. 

You do just that, letting the burning hot water scald your skin until you can’t feel any emotions except exhaustion. And then, you crawl into bed and let sleep overtake you without a second thought. 

When you wake up, it’s clear that it’s late into the afternoon. The sun is high in the sky and shining painfully bright through the crack in your curtains. You groan and roll over, slapping the bed to find your phone. 

You grab the device and unlock it, taking a moment to scroll through your notifications. There’s some angry messages from the guy from last night – cursing you out for setting him up to be jumped. It makes you roll your eyes before a particular notification catches your eye.

It’s from your bank – alerting you of a deposit. 

You sit up straight in your bed, brows furrowed before your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see your bank statement. It’s more than you needed and you know exactly who was responsible. 

You jump out of bed, not even bothering to dress out of your pajamas before you’re shoving some slides onto your feet and storming out of your apartment. 

You’re so heated that you can’t even remember the walk to Simon’s place, your mind racing a million miles a second. You storm up to the door and slam your fist on it, the hard wood making your hand sting from how hard you pound. 

The radiating tingle of pain is quickly forgotten when the door swings open. 

Simon stands there, looking down at you expectantly. He leans against the door with his arms crossed over his chest. He wears an army-issued t-shirt that’s a bit too tight. The sleeves stretch taunt around his biceps and you can make out the swell of his pecs. It’s not very often that you get to see his tattooed arms, littered with scars since he tends to wear long sleeves most of the time. 

He doesn’t look at all surprised to see you, clearly having expected you. The apathetic look in his eyes just solidifies that you were right all along.

“What the hell is your problem?!” you cry without so much as a greeting.

He sighs, broad shoulders rising and falling with it before he opens the door wide and motions you inside. You duck underneath his outstretched arm, turning to watch as he closes the door and locks it. 

He wanders into the kitchen and you realize you can smell bacon. He doesn’t seem at all surprised by your outburst nor does he seem interested in acknowledging your question.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, only solidifying how unperturbed he is by your display of anger. 

“No!” you snap, “I want to know why you did that, Simon!”

He sighs again, much louder but doesn’t respond. You stand in the doorway to his kitchen, watching him plate his lunch – which is actually just breakfast food. He places the dish on the table and pauses, looking up at you.

“You needed the money, I had it,” he offered with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I was handling it on my own,” you say, “I-It was my problem to solve.”

“By sellin’ yourself to some prick?” he snarls, the anger he was masking coming out in a flurry.

“I wasn’t selling myself–” you refute but he slams his palms down on the table. His cutlery clatters with the action and you jump.

“I read that post you made,” he hisses, teeth bared, “There’s no fuckin’ reason you should be selling your virginity for some cash when I was right here the whole time!”

Your cheeks burn when he brings up your virginity, crossing your arms over your chest protectively, “I-It’s mine to sell if I want to! I needed that money!”

“And now you have it,” he says with finality. 

He takes a seat and you stand there, fuming. Your jaw is clenched, teeth grinding together as your mind races to find a rebuttal. He begins to eat, taking large, fast bites that just shows how he’s been conditioned to eat quickly by the military. 

“That’s not the point, Simon,” you huff, growing less angry and more frustrated by this conversation. You were just going around in circles. 

“Then what is the point?” he snaps, snatching his empty plate and angrily tossing it in the sink. He turns to you again, a frown evident on his face, “You got the money you needed safely. That’s all that matters.”

“It’s too much money, Simon!” you cry, “I was selling something in exchange for it!”

“I care about you,” he says, “That doesn’t matter to me. What’s mine is yours, you know that.”

You silently glare at him, wishing that the heated stare would get through to him. He stands unbothered, staring blankly at you with his fists clenched by his sides.

You hang your head, sighing, “I-I can’t take your money, Simon, alright? I’m already in debt and I’m not going to be in debt to you of all people.”

“You feel like you owe me, is that it?” he asks.

You nod your head, heart rate spiking when he stalks towards you. You’re close enough to smell his body wash and aftershave, a painfully familiar scent that you adore. He stares down his nose at you, brown eyes lidded and lazy. 

He reaches out suddenly, rough hand gripping your cheeks, smushing them together until your lips pucker, “Then give me a kiss as payment.”

“H-Huh?” you whimper dumbly, eyes wide in shock as his face grows closer and closer.

“It can be payment for a kiss, lovie,” he coos, syrupy sweet and soft, “Will that make up for it, then?”

The air in your lungs suddenly doesn’t feel like enough. This is a man that you’ve known almost your entire life so you’ve obviously thought about him in a romantic sense at some point. Hell, when you were a teenager you even had a crush on him. But he never once looked at you any other way than as a friend so you quickly got over it – or maybe that’s just what you told yourself. Because as you stand there, staring into his eyes, you realize that kissing him would feel like a dream come true. 

You find yourself nodding despite the inner turmoil going on in your head. Simon huffs through his nose before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. 

There’s a shock of electricity that goes through you at the contact. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean into the kiss, letting him take over. He works his lips expertly against yours, eventually abandoning his hold on your face in favor of wrapping his arm around your waist. You gasp into the kiss when he suddenly yanks you closer, your body pressed close against his. 

He’s warm and sturdy against you, a solid form of muscle that makes you feel safe and content – just as he always has. His hands are big and rough as they grip your hips, kneading the soft flesh there as he gets lost in kissing you. 

“S-Si,” you find yourself muttering without realizing.

He hums in response, chuckling when you continue to mindlessly kiss him. He pulls back, one hand coming up to wrap lightly around your throat, thumbing at your jaw as your eyes slowly focus on him, “What is it, sweetheart? What do you need?”

“I-I don’t…” you swallow thickly around the forming lump in your throat, “I don’t know. I just…”

“Show me,” he breathes, softer than you’ve ever heard his voice. 

The sweet, tender look in his big, brown eyes is what gives you the courage to grab his wrist, leading it just under the hem of your shirt so he can touch your bare stomach. You give him a shy glance from under your lashes, hoping he’ll get the hint that you want more. 

You want him.

Simon, in all his experienced wisdom, understands immediately what it is you’re aching for. His hand travels up further, pausing at your ribs, just under the swell of your breast. Your heart hammers in your chest when your gaze meets his. His eyes are lidded, long lashes obscuring his pupils but still burning into you. 

He stares deep into your eyes, waiting for any sign of hesitation as his fingers creep higher and higher. You suck in a breath when he cups your breast in his palm, squeezing lightly to feel their weight. 

A large, calloused thumb creeps up, passing ever so softly over your nipple until the bud peaks and hardens under the attention. You sigh at the feeling, new shocks washing over you that you’ve never experienced before. 

Sure, you played with yourself plenty – you had a healthy masturbation life, you’d say. But you’d always just been focused on reaching an orgasm, never on the build up. You imagine, however, it would never feel as good by yourself as it does with him.

He pinches your nipple between two fingers and you whine, lips parting as the sound escapes. Simon takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. Your hands grab his shoulders, desperately clinging to his shirt as you lose yourself in the sloppy kiss. 

Drool drips down your chin – it's messy and hot between the two of you. His hand switches to your other breast to give it the same attention as the other. You tremble in his arms, overcome by the insatiable throbbing between your thighs. 

You shift on your feet, the fabric of your panties stick uncomfortably to your core. You’re so wet, wetter than you’ve ever been in your life. By the time he pulls back, there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to his. 

“You want more?” he asks, voice gravelly as he speaks, as if he’s drunk. You nod your head and he clicks his tongue, “You gotta tell me, sweetheart.”

“I-I want more, Si,” you whisper, feeling your cheeks burn as you admit it. 

“Let’s go,” he hums, taking your hand in his as he leads you around the couch towards the hallway.

“Where?” you ask dumbly, hoping that making some kind of conversation would ease the nerves steadily building in your chest. 

“The bedroom,” he responds, stroking his thumb over the top of your hand as if he can sense that you’re nervous, “Wouldn’t want to be stripped down in the middle of the living room, I imagine.”

“N-No,” you squeak, cheeks burning even hotter at those words. 

You’re going to be naked. In front of another person for the first time. In front of him. Simon. 

“There now, lovie,” he whispers as he shuts his bedroom door behind the both of you. He takes your waist in his hands, kneading the soft flesh there, “It’s alright.”

“I-I’m just–”

“Nervous,” he finishes for you, smiling softly when you nod, “I know. We can stop anytime you’d like.”

“I don’t want to,” you rush out, hands coming up to press against his firm chest, “Just…d-don’t be upset when I don’t know what I’m doing.”

The tender way he looks at you sets your heart pounding like a little rabbit. A ghost a smile appears on his lips, “I would never do somethin’ like that.”

“I-I know, I just…” you look down at your feet only for him to catch your chin in his fingers, pulling you to look up at him.

You swallow thickly around the lump in your throat, holding your breath as he descends down. His lips find yours all over again, as exhilarating and mind-melting as the first time. 

Just the sweet, deep kiss he gives you has your nerves dissipating a bit – back to normal levels. You no longer feel the desire to flee, you just feel an intense longing and anticipation. You crave more from him.

As if sensing this, his fingers find the hem of your shirt. He slowly starts to pull it up, agonizingly slow. But you’re grateful for it, it gives you time to prepare before you’re bared completely to him. You lift your arms for him, a sign that you’re still okay with this. 

He pulls it up over your head and lets the fabric drop to the floor. But he doesn’t look down, he continues looking in your eyes, softly pecking your lips as his hands cup your breasts once more. 

When you sigh and lean into his touch, he finally lets himself break the eye contact. He sucks in a sharp breath when he sees how pretty your tits sit in his hands. He touches them softly, sweetly brushing over your nipples in admiration. 

“Perfect tits, lovie,” he coos, chuckling when you whine in embarrassment. 

His head descends, pink lips parting to take one of your nipples in his mouth. It’s hot but his tongue is soft when it circles and flicks at the bud. He sucks, popping off lewdly before switching to the other one. 

The sensation makes you squeeze your thighs together, imaging what that would feel like around your clit. Your hole clenches around nothing, drooling messily into your panties. The fabric was so wet by now that it couldn’t soak it up anymore, leaving it to slick up your thighs instead.

Your core ached, a feeling only Simon would be able to soothe. 

“Please, Si,” you finally break, whimpering pathetically. 

He detaches from your breast, lips wet and swollen from the worship he had been giving your now sore nipples. His pupils were blown wide, black swallowing brown and you were sure that yours looked the same. 

He stands to his full height, nudging you backwards until your knees hit the bed. They buckled at that, leaving you to fall back against the bed. Simon’s bedding was soft, the scent of detergent and his own body wash filling your senses. You relax at the familiar, comforting scent, sinking into the blankets with a bashful smile on your face.

To Simon, you’re an ethereal beauty. You take the air right out of his lungs with the way you look at him.

He remembers the way you would look at him when you were children, all smiles and bright eyes. He never thought he was deserving of such happiness. But now, with you shyly covering your bare breasts, in his bed, he feels like he’s the only man deserving of you. 

He scooches you up the bed, crawling on after you until he’s on top of you. Though you’re still wearing your pants, you feel so vulnerable beneath his weight. He’s heavy and warm and he smells so good. You can’t focus on anything except for him – he’s all around you and it’s exhilarating. 

Feeling bold, you reach up and tug at his shirt. He pulls it off with ease, revealing his toned, scarred upper body. You can’t help but trace over some of the ones you’re familiar with – there’s one from a time he fell out of a tree trying to rescue a cat that you had been crying about. He fell out of the tree on the way down, a jagged branch stabbing into his upper arm and slicing it open. There was another one from when you were teenagers, some other kids jumped him and he took a stab to his shoulder trying to protect you. You kiss that one and he softens, as if he’s remembering it too. 

He’s always been there for you, an overwhelming presence that you simply couldn’t live without. The fact you’re here, in this bed, about to give him your virginity is something that you never would have expected. 

And to think, you were planning to sell it off to some random loser. 

“I’m glad you stopped me,” you find yourself whispering. 

He looks confused for a second before he hums, nodding in understanding, “I am too.”

“I-I want it to be you, Si,” you whisper, the confession leaving you embarrassed. It’s true, all this time, you realize, he’s all you’ve ever really wanted. You had just buried it deep down so you no longer felt those sparks towards him.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispers back, as if the two of you are sharing some secret little moment that no one else can hear about even though it’s just the two of you in this room. 

“You always do,” you respond, the words making his dark eyes light up. 

He kisses you deeply, moving his lips slowly against yours. When your hands come up to grip the back of his neck, he takes that as his cue to move down to your neck, then your collarbones, down the center of your chest between your breasts, the spot between your breasts, and finally your navel. 

You lay back, head in his pillows with your hands on either side of your head. You watch him, breathing labored as you wait for his next move. He pauses in his path, looking up through his lashes at you before his fingers find the hem of your sweats. You swallow thickly, holding your breath when he slowly begins to pull the fabric down. You lift your hips to help him, pulling your legs free while being careful not to kick him by accident. 

He keeps his gaze on you until you’re settled back down into the bed and the pants are forgotten on the floor to be collected later. Then, he looks down. 

Even though you still have your panties on, you know that the white cotton is soaked through and hides absolutely nothing from his view. 

You watch as he licks his lips, as if his mouth is suddenly bone dry. His hands are burning hot when he touches you again, sliding over your thighs to your hips. He leans down, pressing his lips against each of your thighs. 

His thumb reaches down, stretches over your pubic bone to touch the sticky fabric. You nearly jump at the sensation – someone’s fingers other than your own touching you there for the first time. Simon’s fingers.

As if he can’t help himself anymore, he tugs the waistband of your panties and yanks them down your thighs. You squeal when you’re jostled under the force. 

He holds the material up and you’re mortified to see just how wet they are. He runs his thumbs over the crotch and you whine, drawing his attention from them. He drops them to the floor and returns his hands back to you, gripping underneath your knees, so he can spread you all the way open. 

Your hands fly to your face, covering your eyes in embarrassment at how exposed you are. He doesn’t seem to mind, pressing a kiss over the top of your hands before moving back down your body. 

You peek through your fingers only to find him already staring at you with a sparkle in his eyes. He carefully spreads your slippery folds apart with his thumbs, the movement causing a wet, sticky sound to emanate from between your legs. The little bud of your clit is hard and twitching as it’s exposed to the cool air of the bedroom. When he’s sure you’re looking he leans down, pink tongue hanging out of his mouth. You stop breathing as you watch a fat glob of spit roll down the surface of the smooth muscle and splatter right on your clit. 

“Si-!” your squeal of his name is cut off when your eyes roll back in his head as that sinful tongue slides right over your bud. 

Your whole body twitches at that, hands falling away from your face so you can reach down and grab his hair. It doesn’t even seem like he notices your grip, focused on slurping up that sensitive nub into his hot mouth. 

You choke out a moan, tilting your head back into the pillows as your back arches. It feels just as good as you thought it would when he was giving the same, lewd treatment to your nipples. 

He continues to suck and lick your clit until your mind is completely blank and all you can think is him. Then, all at once it stops and he pulls back, letting your bud slip from the heavenly clutch of his lips.

“You ever have somethin’ inside you, lovie?” he asks, bringing up one of his fingers to swipe through the folds of your entrance, as if to show you what he intends. 

You swallow to moisten your throat before nodding, “J-Just my fingers.”

“How many?” he asks, growing more confident in prodding at the tight little hole. 

“T-Two,” you breathe, any embarrassment you felt long dissipated in the face of true pleasure.

“Alright, lovie,” he hums, “Just lay back, I’ll take good care of you, yeah?”

You nod and do as he says, turning utterly boneless against the blankets. The sweat already slicking your skin despite the fact you’ve only just begun makes the fabric stick to you. 

He prods at your entrance for only a second longer before finally, he pushes his thick middle digit inside you. Your cunt is so wet and pliant that it hungrily swallows it up to the very last knuckle. You clench around it intentionally, getting used to the feeling of the foreign finger inside of you for the first time. 

It feels so different compared to your own, thicker and rougher. The sensation is so strange but you can’t say you don’t like it – in fact, it feels amazing. You already want another, feeling like one just isn’t enough to give you that unknown feeling you’re chasing. It’s like you have an itch that needs to be scratched and only Simon can do it for you. 

As if sensing this, ever the reliable one, he carefully introduces a second finger. The stretch is unfamiliar, a burn around your entrance following as he reaches the last knuckle on that one too. His middle and ring finger stuffed snuggly inside your gooey little cunt as you whine and squirm from the feeling. 

Once you’ve adjusted, he slowly begins working them in and out of you. You slick up his fingers easily, streaks of creamy white coating his skin and making his mouth water. When he crooks his fingers up suddenly, prodding at that tender little spot inside of you, your entire body twitches and the most beautiful moan rips from your chest. 

He can’t resist leaning down and trapping your pulsing little clit under the flat of his tongue. He doesn’t slurp it into his mouth like before, instead, he just licks over it, pressing it down with the muscle. Your eyes are rolled up and your mouth hangs open as you moan and moan, tugging mindlessly at his hair as he works you towards your orgasm. 

It grows and grows, the unrelenting pleasure of his fingers fucking deeply into you and his tongue lapping sloppily at your clit like a mutt driving that knot in your belly to tighten. Drool spills out around his tongue, slipping down to meet his fingers where he easily fucks it into you – the added lubrication not needed but so very welcome with how much wetter and messier it makes you. 

“S-Simon…” you pant, gasping to catch your breath as the pleasure makes it hard for you to even think. 

He glances up at you through his lashes but doesn’t offer any other acknowledgement. There’s a knowing look in his eyes that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s going to wring this orgasm out of your little cunt whether you like it or not. 

And fuck, do you love it. 

The orgasms you brought yourself in the deep of the night, little hands stuffed down your panties as you played with your clit and stuffed yourself with your own fingers was nothing like what you were experiencing now. Simon’s thick fingers and hot tongue were torturing your little clit until your entire body started to lock up.

You looked at him desperately, unsure what was even going through your mind besides him and how fucking good you felt right now. 

Just as you teetered on the edge of this orgasm, he suddenly changed up and swallowed your twitchy little clit into his mouth. He sucked, sending you flying over the edge with a shrill wail of his name. Your legs kicked and twitched, heels hitting him on the back as you trembled and shook through the orgasm that he eagerly fucked out of you onto his fingers. 

He suckled your clit, swirling his tongue around it until it was too sensitive and you were tearily pushing him away. When he finally released you, slipping his fingers from your cunt, you were boneless and twitching on the bed. You didn’t even try to close your legs when he pulled away, giving him the perfect view to watch your cute little pussy clench and messily drool cum in the aftermath of your orgasm. 

He popped his fingers in his mouth, eyes rolling and lashes fluttering at the taste of your cum tingling on his taste buds. As you came down, eyes closed and breathing heavy, he began pulling at his belt. 

You could hear the metal clinking as he dropped it to the floor, peeking your heavy lids open to see him pull the button of his jeans open. As he slowly pulled them down, his underwear went with and suddenly you were more aware than ever. 

His cock was something to behold. Thick and veiny, bobbing in the air where it hung – too heavy to actually stand upright. You’d seen dicks in porn before but none of them prepared you for Simon’s. Precum dribbled from the tip, creating a long, gooey string down towards the floor before it broke. 

He wrapped a big hand around himself, giving a few good strokes as he reached down to cup his own heavy balls. The hair wasn’t wild or offensive, but neatly trimmed short. 

“All good, lovie?” he asked, stepping out of the pool of his jeans and boxers so he could kneel on the bed again.

“All god-good!” you blushed as he laughed, leaning down over you to balance his weight on his elbows.

“You still want this?” he asks, hushed and sweet, 

You glance between your bodies to see that intimidating cock, drooling messily over your skin. You realize, quickly, that you’ve never wanted anything more in your life.

When you voice such, he looks relieved, like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. He sits back on his heels and spreads your legs, pushing your knees up to your chest.

“Hold them there,” he orders, which you follow immediately. 

Your elbows circle around your knees, holding yourself open for him as he asked. He whistles low in appreciation when your cum-slicked cunt was spread and exposed for him to prod his cockhead against. 

He swipes the tip up and down through your folds, humming appreciatively when your little hole tries to suck him in every time he grazes past it. He nudges your clit, the little bud still hard and sensitive from your orgasm but so eager for more. He couldn’t wait to grant your wish and make you cream on his cock. 

You watch him with wide eyes as he starts to push into you. Your jaw drops as you feel that burning stretch, an ache settling between your legs as he continues to sink himself into you. 

“F-Fuck, wait, Simon!” you squeal and he halts immediately. 

He’s only reached just past the head of his cock but he reaches down to pet your clit. The pleasure shoots through you, making your toes curl and your walls relax around him. He keeps his eyes on your face for any sign that you want him to stop as he moves his hips again. 

More and more of his cock sinks inside and his thumb keeps working little circles over your clit until his hips are flush with yours. Your voice breaks as you moan when you realize you’ve taken every single inch of him. 

He’s heavy and throbbing inside of you and you clench around him intentionally, forcing a moan from his chest. 

He leans down, arranging your knees over his shoulders, folding you up and pressing down on  you. He’s heavy and it makes it hard to breathe but that makes it even better – the pleasure of being speared on that fat cock and being utterly helpless underneath this man is better than any fantasy you could have made for yourself. 

“Fuck,” he snarls, rolling his hips back before rocking them forward again, heavy balls slapping against you as he does, “Can’t believe you were gonna give this little cunt away to some prick.”

“S-Si,” you whimper, biting your lip at the feeling of him slowly and carefully rocking his hips against yours, “‘M sorry, sh-shoulda been you all this time.”

“That’s fuckin’ right,” he hums, “No one else gets to love you but me, sweetheart.”

“O-Only you!” you agree, nails digging into his shoulders when he hits that spot just right. 

He can feel you soaking his cock, drippy cum lathering him up to make every glide of his cock wetter than the last. He sits back up on his knees, adjusting his grip so he can pin your legs wide open, giving him the best view of your greedy cunt swallowing his length up. 

He begins to fuck you in earnest, pulling out halfway before sliding home again - nothing like the little movements he gave you to prepare you. He was going to show you exactly why you should only think of giving him this precious pussy for the rest of your life. No one will ever be able to fuck you as good as he can, he’s going to learn your body like the back of your hand and you’re never going to be able to cum as hard as you can with him. You’ll never even want to use your own fingers again when he’s done with you. 

You can’t do anything but lay there and take it, take the pleasure and take his cock. He hits so deep, prodding at your cervix in a way that aches but it only feels that much better when it’s mixed with mind-numbing pleasure. 

Simon looms above you, panting and groaning as he fucks you like he was made to. He angles his hips just right, blunt nails biting into your thighs where he pins you open, neither of you caring if he happens to break skin while he does. You don’t even register the bite of pain underneath the way his cock prods you g-spot so perfectly. 

Your own fingers would have been tired by now, no longer able to work that little spot like you need. Simon’s cock, however, is unrelenting. The pleasure builds and mounts uninterrupted, every stroke of his length sending you higher. His body moves fluidly, rolling his hips tirelessly so he can give you every ounce of pleasure your sweet little cunt needs. 

You’re creaming around him, a frothy, milky ring forming around the base every time he sinks in and becoming visible when he pulls back. It’s filthy and messy and makes your cheeks burn but Simon seems to not mind in the slightest.

“So fuckin’ messy, love,” he coos, breathy and slurred, “Look at that, pretty cunt needed some cock, huh?”

“Y-Yours!” you manage to choke out.

“What’s that?” he asks, a crooked, teasing grin on his face. 

“Y-Your cock! Only needed your cock, Simon,” you pant, reaching up to grope your own tits, pinching and rolling your nipples meanly. It hurts so good, making you clench around his cock. He moans at the sight, his pretty little virgin tormenting your own nipples.

“That’s right,” he hums, reaching a shaky hand down to thumb at your clit, “Keep pinchin’ those pretty tits, sweetheart. Don’t stop.”

You nod your head, unable to form a vocal response from the new sensation of your clit being played with while he fucks you. It feels so damn good that you could go drunk from it all. Everything in your brain is slow, thoughts of only him and how good you feel are all that’s there. Your entire world, right at this moment, revolves around Simon Riley. 

He knows it too, a cocky grin on his face as he works you to your orgasm. You dangle, almost helplessly, staring unblinkingly at his handsome face as he works it out of you. 

After what feels like minutes, but is probably only seconds, you cum. Hard.

Your head slams back against the pillows, back arching as you cunt clasps tight around him. You cry out in pure, unadulterated pleasure as he fucks you through it. His thumb keeps working your clit as it twitches and pulses under the digit, cumming nice and pretty for him just like he wanted. Just like you deserved. 

You cream his cock messily, it drips down his balls and down your ass to the bedding below. So fucking sloppy and wet, a perfect little cunt made to take his cock. 

His brows furrow, mouth falling open as his own orgasm mounts and builds. Now that your well-earned orgasm is out of the way, he can finally let go and allow himself to experience it as well.

“Where do you want it?” he grits out, teeth clenched from the ache of holding back.

His balls draw up, heavy and full. He feels ready to positively explode when you gasp, “I-Inside!”

His head falls back, the loudest, most drawn out moan you’d never expected to come from a stoic man like Simon falling from his lips. It’s deep and primal, full of nothing but euphoria as he spills into you. His load is hot and thick, drooling out of the sides of his cock as he slows his thrusts to milk the least bits of pleasure from the orgasm. 

When he comes down, he collapses. Your legs lock around his waist and he draws you tightly into his arms, neither of you caring for the way his weight crushes you. All you care about is being wrapped up in his arms where you belong. 

He pulls his neck from your chest and kisses your forehead. Then he kisses your nose. Then your lips. 

“Pretty,” he breathes, still drunk on the endorphins of the sex so his lips are a little looser than they’d normally be, “Always thought you were pretty.”

“Really?” you prompt, cheeks heating at his confession. 

He hums, “Glad you’re finally mine.”

You beam, “No one deserved me as much as you.”

He nods as if it’s the most obvious statement in the world, rolling off of you with a sigh. His cock unplugs your cunt and a gush of your mixed cum comes out, making you whine. He laughs softly, drawing you back into your arms. 

You’ve never felt safer and warmer in your life, knowing in that moment that you should have come to Simon all along. There’s no one in the world who would be there for you, more willing and able than he. 

this work belongs to rowarn. do not repost to third party websites or use for character ai. reblogs welcome and appreciated!

[koling2345]

Retired Simon| NSFW

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

Retired! Simon who: Signed the papers to retire as soon as your daughter was born. He wouldn't risk his daughter growing up without a father and you becoming a widow. Never.

Retired! Simon who: Got a job in construction, it was nothing much, quite simple compared to what he'd already had in the army. What he had to do was more related to manual labor. Which he was already used to.

Retired! Simon who: Always came home at six, all tired and sweaty from an exhausting day's work. Working as a construction helper wasn't easy, but for someone who had already worked in much worse situations, it seemed like a piece of cake.

Retired! Simon who: Loved the feeling of coming home, and seeing you and his daughter waiting for him, you with a smile on your face, and the little girl speaking some gibberish, and making loud noises when she saw her father. It was a little piece of heaven on earth.

Retired! Simon who: Was crazy about your food, there was nothing better than coming home and smelling the food you made, it made his stomach rumble. That's why you always made extra food, because he ate like an elephant, literally, you could fill his plate, and he would repeat it. He just loved your food.

Retired! Simon who: Didn't take long to acquire a sweet tooth, your desserts just ruined him. Even if he ate more than enough at dinner, there was always more room for whatever dessert you made. Cake? Oh, he'd eat half the cake in one day, especially if you put icing on it. From time to time, he would eat your sweets and steal your chocolate from the fridge. So it was no surprise when you shouted 'Simon Riley' around the house. He already knew the crime he'd committed, and he wasn't the least bit sorry.

Retired! Simon who: Absolutely adored coming home to hear your little girl talking, she still struggled to pronounce the right words, but Simon made an effort to understand the little princess, even if she said silly childish things. Since she was always complaining about how tiring her day was, that she did a lot of things. She'd only put her toys back in the toy box.

Retired! Simon who: Loved it when you'd bring him lunch at work, it was a good excuse to chat with you during his break. As well as stealing a few kisses from you. Sometimes even something more.

Retired! Simon who: No matter how tired he was, he always put your little girl to sleep, telling her her favorite princess story, watching as she slowly fell asleep. Every time Simon saw his daughter sleeping so peacefully, he felt his heart flutter. It was a view he would never be tired of.

Retired! Simon who: Helped you with the housework, hated you being overwhelmed, so he washed the dinner dishes, put the clothes in the wash, prepared a bath for you. He himself would rather die of exhaustion than see you doing too many chores. He was your husband, so he always helped you. He always put you first, even if he arrived completely exhausted. It was nothing much, just him being a descent husband, as you deserved.

Retired! Simon who: Sometimes he came home so tired, all he wanted was a good head, his body was so sore, all he wanted was to sit on the sofa and let you do the work, getting down on your knees and deep- throat him. Just the way he loved it, his cock shoved into your mouth, the tip of it hitting the back of your throat, while you looked up at him, eyes filling with tears, you obeyed his words of encouragement, always taking him deeper. Until you choked, and he pushed deep into your throat.

Retired! Simon who: Always gave you rewards after a well-delivered oral, this consisted of waking you up with him right between your legs, head buried between your thighs while he lapped you up. Sucking your clit really hard, just to hear you wake up, moaning and whimpering that you were sensitive. Not that he was going to stop, because he was working on you even more.

Retired! Simon who: Loved the lazy sex sessions in the morning, he loved seeing you all sensitive and sly, taking his cock so well, even though you were drunk with sleep. Sometimes he'd just turn you over and put his cock in your sopping cunt, because he knew you were always ready for him. You were made for him, after all.

Retired! Simon who: Was a complete slut for you, could never keep his hands off you, sometimes even at work he would ask for photos, so he could jerk off and relieve a little of his stress. And he would definitely fuck you hard when he got home.

Retired! Simon who: Also loved having romantic sex with you, having you on his lap while you rode his cock, slowly, at your own pace. His hands on your hips while the two of you kissed, whispering sweet nothings to each other. He liked it so much, he couldn't feel your pussy clenching around his girth, he'd come just like that. Your fault for doing it so well.

Retired! Simon who: Never thought he wanted to have a big family, until you got pregnant. After your first child, he certainly wanted more, of course, if you wanted them too. And given the countless times he's taken you around the house, it wouldn't be a surprise if you turned up pregnant once again.

Retired! Simon who: Wouldn't trade anything, absolutely anything, for his family. As much as he loved his old job, nothing was better than coming home, warm food, a sweet little girl, and a beautiful wife, that was priceless. And he'd be crazy to let that go.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

Hi guys! Sorry for disappearing, I'm just posting to let you know I'm alive. If I manage to post anything in the next few days, it's scheduled, I won't be able to answer comments or questions, I'm in my college exam week 😐. I'm totally cooked🫠, so I should only be around for the next week! I'm not ignoring anyone, I promise to reply as soon as I can 🫶🏻

[starlightsweetheart]

Someone needs to write a thesis on this, please.

I honestly can’t understand the lack of…(sorry, I couldn’t stop myself) intelligence of Riley and Rucas (and Joshaya) fans and how they can possibly buy into the “Maya turned into Riley” and the “Maya never actually liked Lucas, she only liked him because she turned into Riley” bullshit? I guess it’s because they are stans of the character/couple, and they just don’t care about actual facts:

a) You can’t turn into someone else. It’s not frickin’ possible. People can change, but they can’t turn into someone else.

b) You either like someone or you don’t, it’s as simple as that (and again we’ll emphasize this point: you can’t use an excuse of liking someone because of “turning into someone”, see a)).

c) Trying to manipulate and convince someone to believe that they have changed their personality to become you and insisting that the only reason why they were interested in someone is because they turned into you… that is abuse.

This is exactly what Riley was doing to Maya. Insisting that Maya changed into her, insisting that Maya only liked Lucas because she became her, and that was also the reason why Maya was doing better in school.

Riley was doing that while also showing how low her opinion of Maya actually is: Maya will have 5 husbands, accusing Maya of pulling the fire alarm, accusing Maya of theft (if I was Maya, that would be the final nail in that friendship coffin).

Riley needs Maya to be inferior to her. Riley needs to be superior, it props her up. She can’t have someone from a broken home becoming better than her… and Riley’s absolutely can’t have Lucas pick some lowlife over her.

Also, I wonder if there’s something wrong with the Matthews family, period. Cory likes to take pot shots at Maya and her life… and then we have another gaslighter (and narcissist), Josh Matthews.

Josh loves the idea of Maya pining over him and waiting for him. Having someone fangirl-ing over him gives his ego a huge boost, and he’s not going to let that go. So, instead of using Riley’s gaslighting accusations, he comes up with another bullshit excuse: Maya only like Lucas because she was trying to protect Riley 🙄🤬. This way he kills two birds with one stone. He gets to keep having fawning over any scrap of attention he throws her way, while his niece gets the guy. Win-win for the Matthews.

It honestly makes me wonder the actual reasons of why GMW was cancelled. Was Disney getting complaints from parents over the way Maya was being treated? If I was a parent, I sure wouldn’t want my kid watching a show which was partly based on bullying and manipulating a character, never mind that it was the main character doing the bullying and manipulation.

Thoughts?

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - 18+ mdni - sappy smut

“Wow.”

Simon sets both bags on the floor, forgetting them in favor of sealing himself around you, arms around your waist. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah. I’ve never been here before. Didn’t realize it was so pretty.” The ocean is turquoise, a sparkling blue green reflecting the sun’s midday peak. His lips graze your cheek, and you giggle. “I still can’t believe we’re on holiday.”

“You deserve it.” You turn in his arms, nose to his neck.

“You think Orion is okay?” He rubs your back, trying to soothe your worries. You’d been a little apprehensive when he originally mentioned going on a quick getaway, nervous about leaving the baby, but Gaz and Cami insisted they were up to the task, and he finally coaxed you out the door.

It was much needed. You were bone weary, and with the team set to leave again in another week or two, he was desperate to get some quality, alone time.

Logistically, it took a lot. You’d need to pump this entire time to keep your supply up, not to mention you’re still adjusting to your new medication for POTS. Simon had to do extensive work to ensure the security of this town, evaluating each rental and placing endless phone calls, painstakingly combing through each one until he found something perfect.

“Orion is fine. Gaz and Cami have it all under control, you know that. We’ll FaceTime with him tonight, okay?” You nod, still burrowed against him. When you finally pull away, it’s with a coy smile.

“Can we go to the beach?”

Simon leads your past Porthcurno beach with a promise of something better, a secluded craggy cove he knows will have almost no one on it. You gasp when it comes into view, more brilliantly blue water meeting white sand, framed with dark cliffs. As he suspected, only a few other people dot the beach. It requires some effort, a steep descent on uneven ground, but he holds you steady, keeping your hand on his shoulder as he leads. If you slip, you’ll only fall right into him, cushioned at his back instead of the sharp rocks.

“Oh my god…” you trail off, dropping your backpack in the sand. “Simon this is… it's perfect.” He laughs. It’s so easy with you. To laugh. To smile. He’s never felt lighter, staring at you in the sun, honeyed heat in your eyes as you peek up at him through lush lashes. You slide your shorts down, cheeky purple bikini bottoms barely covering your ass, and then shuck your t shirt, revealing the matching top. It's skimpy, to say the least, velvet skin and curves on full display, full breasts and hips, soft belly all accentuated by the lilac hue of your bathing suit. Your cheeks swallow the stretchy fabric, and he thinks about hooking his fingers between them and digging it out. His cock hardens, nearly solid and aching for you. He's already in heaven, could believe he's died and reached some sort of twisted afterlife where he doesn't end up in purgatory, and he searches for the side of your bathing suit, tugging on the strap.

"C'mere mama." You read the husk in his voice, the heavy weight of his lids, and shake your head.

"I wanna swim," you're coy with your smile, fingers tucking into the waistband of his trunks, "take me swimming daddy."

The water is warm. He's almost resentful to it, wishing it was a little cooler, enough that you would cling to him more, searching for heat.

Still, he's not complaining. Watching you wade into the water and float with the rhythm of the sea, it's enrapturing. Intoxicating. Better than bourbon. You frolic in it, beaming, carefree and weightless, heaviness of motherhood left behind for a moment, a moment where you're just you... and he's just some poor sod who's never deserved you in the first place. You've piled your hair on top of your head, wet tendrils sticking to your neck, framing your face, shrieking and giggling each time your lifted from your feet with the crest of a wave.

Finally, you come to him. Wrap your legs around his waist and heave your arms onto his shoulder, smiling in the sun. Your skin is brine soaked and glistening, wet and slick in his hold, and as the ocean rolls the two of you together in its sway, he goes with it, using the motion to press himself against you. Everything about you is his undoing, every breath you draw filling him with life, the widening of your eyes as you feel the heft of his cock pulsing between your legs, the nervous glance you give the shore at the few people bathing in the sun. His fingers trace your belly and dip into the side of your suit, swirling down your slit and then pressing your clit. You gasp into his mouth, but the water washes away your natural desire, and he pulls away.

"Si..."

"There's a nook over there," he sucks a mark into your neck, licking at the taste of your skin, the droplets splashed across your shoulder, "it's sandy, and sheltered."

"Oh." Your eyes widen. "B-but there are people... on the beach."

"They won't see. Or hear. The ocean will drown it all out." You gnaw on your lip until he places his thumb there instead. "Y'trust me?"

"Yeah."

He lays you on your back in the sand. The rock arches up like a cathedral, hallowed ground, and he takes his time pulling your bathing suit away, tugging the bottoms down to your knees, tits falling free once he unstrings your top. They're too tempting, round and full, your head tipping back when his mouth closes over your nipple, warmth spilling across his tongue.

"Feel this?" He unfolds your hand and presses it against where he's hard in his trunks. "Feel how bad I want to be inside you, honey?"

"Fuck, y-yeah."

"You're gonna take it all for me mama. Jus' like last time." You nod frantically, and he takes a quick moment to strip, palming your thighs and then spreading them open.

You seize when he burns his face in your pussy, tongue circling around your clit, one finger, then two, working themselves inside, stretching, scissoring, trying to get you ready. You thrash and moan, shuddering when the orgasm rushes through your blood, legs closing around his head until he pulls away, still holding you wide.

His entry is gentle and slow. Fingers laced together above your, a holy crown like you deserve, kissing away the crinkles of discomfort around your eyes and even the tears trailing down your cheeks.

"Jesus." You moan, and he glances down, breaking out in a full body shiver when he sees he's barely halfway there. He remembers how it was the first time, in your bed, in the moonlight, the way you strangled him, shoved him into his orgasm far before he was ready, and though your body has changed from having his baby, you've never been more beautiful, and never felt so good. "Big, Si," your brow creases, and you whimper, "you're too big-"

"Y'can take it. You were made for me." He presses against your belly as he sinks to the hilt and you mewl like the kitten you are, sweet in his arms, fingers clawed into his shoulders. His nose drags down your cheek, thrusting slowly, easy pressure stretching you out on his cock. "How's that feel?"

"F-fuck, it's... good, so good." Your lashes feather closed, and he shakes his head.

"Keep your eyes open, mama. Keep them on me." He has to see every refraction of light, every kaleidoscope of emotion and pleasure in your gaze, the overload between the two of you as he fucks you deep and fills you with come.

He wants to give you another baby so badly it burns, mark you, fill you, watch you grow heavy with his child, be there for it all this time-

But that’s not for tonight. Tonight is not about the claim. It’s about love. Showing, telling, promising. Branding vows into your skin, burying himself so deep your body never fits another, giving you his last name, keeping and loving you forever. More than a claim, even more than a promise. Something he’ll never walk away from. Someone he’d burn the world for, walk to hell and back, pulling you behind him, eyes fixed on the horizon.

His life, his past, drops like a stone to the bottom of the sea through his mind, every trial, every loss, all now serving a greater purpose, teaching a grander lesson, though no less painful. Love. Something that used to be so distant he hardly knew its name, and now it’s everywhere. The torture, the loss of his identity, his existence, even his name, all of it once lost, only to be found by you.

He’d rip his heart out and lay it at your feet if he could.

It’s slow. He’s never been particularly patient outside of work, but for you, he tries to make it last forever. Tastes each syllable of your moans and cries, paints your body with his sweat and spit. You yield for him, bloom for him, learn him the way he learns you, and as the two of you chase the end together, his face hovers just above yours, gentle fingers as a necklace under your neck.

“I love you.” He murmurs it, and your eyes shine. “I love you mama. You’re mine. Til death.”

At the precipice, the moment before the two of you shatter, your forehead meets his, you share his breath, his words, his life. It’s now yours too, intertwined like the dna stitched with yours, and when you come, the only words on your lips are a vow of your own.

“I love you too.”

[sweetiecutie]

Warnings: pantie stealing and sniffing, masturbation, Simon has a crush on you, kinda softie! Simon

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who felt guilt pooling in his chest as he fisted his leaking cock violently, a pair of your pink frilly thongs that he pinched from laundry basket in you house was pressed against his nose, inhaling lungfuls of your soury scent. Bright blush covered his normally pale cheeks, honey-coloured eyes rolling back as Riley’s back arched, series of low groans and stifled moans slipping past his lips as hot cum shot out of his overstimulated cock, landing in small puddles on his pubic and tummy.

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who could barely look you in the eyes the whole next week out of sheer shame and embarrassment, brushing you off whenever you tried talking to him. You pouted, not getting such wanted attention from your older brother’s broody best friend, just clicking your tongue as he openly ignored you, finally giving up and turning around on your heels, marching off to your room, snacks and mug of tea in your hands. If only you could see Simon’s eyes lingering longingly on the soft slope of your ass, trying to burn the image in his brain, you small booty shorts doing nothing to hide delicious plumpness of it.

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who clenched his teeth tightly, breathing deeply through his nose to try and control himself as you sat on an arm of the armchair he was settled in, drunkenly babbling about some new movie you’ve been meaning to watch. He desperately tried not to look at your tits as you leant against the back of that damned armchair, your chest poking out of the deep cut of your crop top barely ten centimetres away from Simon’s head, basically inviting him to bury his face in beautiful softness of your boobs. But he just gripped his beer tighter, looking strictly in front of him and nodding absentmindedly at your words, subtly shuffling his hoody down to hide a growing tent in his pants.

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon on whom you can always count. You need a drive back home after going out for drinks? He’s grabbing his car keys and telling you he’ll be there in a few minutes. Some weirdo has been bothering you at work/uni? Simon is discreetly asking bastard’s name as to not rise any suspicions in you, just to have a little friendly chat with him a bit later, making sure to break duchebag’s nose so he doesn’t stick it into your business anymore. There’s something off with your car and you need to get it fixed? How good that Simon is a handyman, bringing your car back to life not worse than any mechanic would (and he’s definitely not flexing his stupidly big biceps while doing it).

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who knew better than to make a move on you. He knew you liked him, and he liked you too (more like was totally obsessed). But he valued his best friend too much, knowing perfectly well that he wouldn’t appreciate it if Simon fucked his little sister.

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who realised that he was absolutely, utterly, totally fucked as he watched you and your older brother roughhousing around the kitchen, bickering and play-fighting - your smile was so bright and warm, making him feel hot like sun in the middle of August, your loud laughter made his chest buzz with something soft and Riley felt as if he was about to pass out because of the flow of softness he felt for you that moment. Soon your eyes met his, mischievous smirk curled your pretty lips as you threw a pillow at him, surely dragging Simon into your little brawl, creating a huge mess for which all three of you will surely get a good scolding from your mom.

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who tried to distance himself from you because you deserved more than him. He genuinely did try to ignore all your soft smiles and fleeting touches, the way you batted you pretty eyelashes as you listened to him explaining something to you or the way you would nibble on your bottom lip as your eyes wandered up and down his torso as he wore one of his compression shirts. Simon did try his best to save you from himself, but all of his resolve vanished completely and utterly the moment you got brave enough to stand to your tippy toes and press a tentative kiss to his chapped lips.

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who scooped you up in his arms, giving you no chance to escape as he deepened the kiss, moaning quietly into your mouth as you let his tongue in, greedy hands roaming up and down your body, feeling all the curves and dips of it - just like he dreamt of doing past few years. Simon barely registered pressing you against the wall, meaty forearms boxing you as his torso pressed against yours, grinding his boner against your tummy, goosebumps running up his spine as he felt your small arms gripping on his sides, pressing him closer to yourself.

Brother’s bestfriend! Simon who broke off your kiss, a silver strand of saliva connected your lips as he gazed deeply in your eyes, blush on your face made him feel warm and proud. He pressed his lips against your forehead, nosing at your hair and inhaling sweet scent of your shampoo. Withdrawing back for just a few centimetres he muttered in his raspy breathy voice “Go out with me”

Likes, reblogs and comment are highly appreciated, give writers some love!🩷 I’m thinking about making part 2, let me know what you think<3