#ask me dirty disgusting things
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perfexion · 2 years ago
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I was going to hop on Tumblr live tonight but apparently I got food poisoning from the kbbq place we went to last night sooo I'm dying and watching Turning Red instead
can you guys ask me lots of questions? anon or not I just wanna talk and have some fun in between the horrible nausea lol
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massiveladycat · 2 months ago
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with all due respect for proshippers, which is none, you disgust me. you're so obsessed with shipping incest it's like you think the only thing that makes a good plot is siblings swapping spit. i wouldn't trust you with human decency. and let's talk about that teacher x student romance, that's just sad, bro. like, seriously, do you not know the difference between romance and actual fucked up shit? you're the kind of person who thinks a minor x adult relationship is just "forbidden love" when it's really just a predator grooming their victim. you actively sexualize things that have happened to real people, things that have traumatized people and things that have changed their lives. you actively justify sexualizing children, sexualizing rape, sexualizing non-con. you're disgusting and i would be disappointed if i could ever birth a child like you. go get a life that doesn't revolve around supporting abusive dynamics and predatory behavior. nobody wants to be associated with you. just remember, while you're out here being a proshipper, the rest of us are actually respecting people who know the meaning of consent and respect. it doesn't MATTER if you think fiction has no effect on real life. it's so horrible that you think your pedophilia fanfics and abusive ships have no impact on anyone. do you know how many people you will hurt by going out there, writing some fanfic that tells them that everything that happened to them was okay and right? that there's a group of people that think what happened to them was hot? that if they put their story out there, there's a chance that you may sexualize them or justify their abuser? that they should've enjoyed it? fuck you. fuck every proshipper that tries to justify themselves with 'whimsy' or 'just fun.' fuck you.
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hella1975 · 3 months ago
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why do you write? what do you think about, what drives you?
passion love grief rage spite confusion loneliness community shame boredom perfectionism fun because i dont know how to stop
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running-in-the-dark · 10 months ago
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and it just occurred to me that when we move, I might try to find a new therapist. there might be one/a few right in the town we're moving to (I haven't checked), but we'll be really close to a city then. so I could get there regularly (maybe. it's very scary but maybe I can manage it). so. I should probably do that? maybe find someone who'll like.... do more than just accept that I've got social anxiety (because that's what I said when I first saw my previous therapist) and help me figure out the real problem.
#like I mean I. probably have autism or adhd yeah sure. like that's just. I'm just assuming that for now.#but. the thing that really affects me more than anything at this point#is the stupid fucking rules I have to follow because my brain makes them up and I don't have a choice#and the. well everything else that's probably all related to that.#but i don't wanna go there and be like hi I think i might have ocd#because I've been so ashamed of all of this stuff for 20+ years that the thought of talking about it with a person I have to look at and wh#will ask questions about it and then possibly say nope your brain's just really fucked up.#that thought is. so horrifying idk I don't think I could do that#but I struggle with it so much every day that. idk maybe I need to do it anyway? I didn't think I could talk about the social anxiety stuff#either and I did that for years in the end. and it helped a bit.#but idk maybe it's just. pointless? I don't know how to be any other way. I've never not lived like this? I don't remember ever not having#to follow these rules and feeling like I'm disgusting for having bad thoughts and having stupid routines that I have to follow because if I#don't a Bad Thing will happen. but that part got better so maybe it's not that serious anyway and I've just been imagining all of it#because my brain is bad and all of that.#maybe it's fine that I can't touch dirty things and that if I don't tell my husband to drive safe I have to think about him crashing the ca#and it being my fault all day and almost breaking several door handles because I have to check three times if the door is really locked and#it's never enough so it's usually 3x3 times or more. and just.#just. everything I like has to be good and pure and perfect and if it's not and I can't stop myself from liking it anyway I feel disgusting#and guilty and like I'm personally responsible for every bad thing in the world because I just can't be right.#and if I could the bad things would stop#I don't think. that's how people are supposed to think? right? I feel like if everyone spent most of their time thinking about this and#doing everything to make sure they follow these rules then. idk nothing would ever get done? it's just so hard?#but no it's probably just that I'm so bad at handling it and everything is always hard for everyone and no one complains because they're#better at being human.#idk man all I know is this is fucking exhausting and I can't do this for. however many years I'll be alive for. it's been long enough#I'm tired of it#and maybe I shouldn't be on here. maybe it's time to step away again for a while. so much of this messes with my head. I can't handle the#guilt I feel from every stupid post that I saw. oh that's something people argue about? great that's been added to the list of things that#have to feel bad about now.#doesn't matter how much I disagree on a rational level. I don't get to decide. if I know it exists it will bother me. and I can't do it
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entropys · 2 years ago
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:/
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genekies · 2 months ago
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screaming, tearing my hair out, sobbing face down on my bed
#so my ex-boyfriend left the temp housing place without cleaning up at all. The thing is we were still together when he left.#We broke up after he was gone and before I came back to the house. The sink is overflowing with dishes and he left stuff here even though he#moved over an hour away. The other person that was staying here also left all the dishes dirty. Its the temp housings community dishes so I#cant cook or eat now and I CANT DO DISHES RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I STILL ALMOST PASS OUT WHEN IM STANDING FOR TOO LONG?#which he knew about before he left the place. and so did the other person staying here because she was my cousin.#I'm disgusted by people. And I'm so hurt? We were going to stay together and he did that to me. And I know he wasnt planning on leaving me.#Because he left two items very important to him sitting on our bed.#One being his ushanka that he got while living in russia with his grandpas soviet pin still on it.#And two the blanket his children were wrapped in as babies.#He left so much stuff here when I asked him to take everything. But he made sure to take the food that was his/what he thought should be his#Im pretty sure that he took my only HDMI cord too and I dont know what else.#I still have all of his other stuff in a storage unit. I plan to give it back but unless he gives me atleast a day of notice I cant.#Im going to have to call my mom to ask her to help me clean this all up. I physically cant do it And I'm calling the housing department tmrw#I gotta tell them that they gotta make sure that people actually follow the contract because i cant fucking eat until my mom comes to help#Theres cameras in all the common areas including the kitchen that run 24/7 so why havent they done anything. The other person that lived#here already moved out and it was all recorded. I gotta put in a complaint or something. This is why I'm losing a dangerous amount of weight#because I cant eat especially since i had an abortion 2 weeks ago thats given me so many health issues#I couldnt walk or move for days without my vision going black and i had such severe pain I was in and out of the doctors office and the ER#Not to mention I couldnt breathe when I was standing/walking too. And then he just left everything for me to deal with.#and yes again WE WERE STILL TOGETHER WHEN HE LEFT#im so tired and hungry man this is fucking terrible.#tag vent#vent in tags#vent
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lilgynt · 10 months ago
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i want to die my mom shit on the toilet seat then called me annoying when i pointed it out to her
#personal#nooo leaving shit stainss or being allergic to flushing her piss isn’t enough she gotta shit on the toilet seat now#i legitimately feel fucking sick how does that even happen#my house is so fucking disgusting it’s not funny#like just recently found out! not normal to find maggots all the time!#in food or other objects!!!!!!!!!#thought that was a more common problem and needed a check in if i was okay to throw this thing out or if i should pluck the dead maggotsout#answer was toss out thank you audrey#it’s just so fucking gross#and she never washes her hands and gets annoyed when i tell her to#she’s like i was NO. you weren’t#and thanksgiving she got annoyed with my brother and i thinking#she was putting dishes on the trash to dry.#we were like. hey. i think you need to wash those again.#and she was like ofc i’m gonna wash them i hate how dirty you guys think i am blah blah#which double funny my brother got dental surgery and when she offered to cook for him#screamed in a drugged up voice I DONT WANT UR DIRTY ASS PANS#and somehow she has 3 rooms for her stuff but it’s still dominating the whole house to the point we can barely walk#and the other day when she asking me#to get a second job couple hours later was explaining oh hey im gonna buy you this random thing#and do you know how often i have to run to the post to return these random ass things when she’s broke or it doesn’t work????#but i can’t be like hey since we’re like FUCKED. can you stop spending a lot on random shit.#sorry it’s just disgusting at my house outside of my room
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tojisun · 4 months ago
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!! it’s very silly and unserious and the only reason it’s long is because it’s so vivid in my head. unedited as hell </3
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nosy neighbours tf 141 got me giggling. and it’s not even inherently sexy nor attractive, it’s really just them being in people’s (or a person’s) business.
thinking about how, in retirement, they still bought a house together because it’s so odd to have separate lives. and so they bought one in the suburbs, with five bedrooms and four baths, and a really big backyard. kyle picked up gardening so the backyard was not just a plus but a damn requirement.
so they move in, not giving a damn about that one old WASP couple across the street watching them all with a sneer because apparently moving in with your mates is unusual. well, whatever. fuck them.
then they meet their new neighbour. you’re single—divorced, price would tell them later—whose life is centred around your 9 to 5 job at an office in the city which you wake up at 5am for.
you leave the house at 6:30am and then amble back home when it’s pushing 8pm. it’s a boring life; a boring routine. not even your little front lawn of cared-for wild flowers managed to hold their attention longer than a day.
so with that said, they’d like to go on a record and say that it’s all johnny’s fault.
friday evening, he started the game by saying, “she bought a baguette.” he paused. “and a bottle? it's shaped like lube?”
john blinked, setting his book down. “what.”
mactavish shrugged, still peering from the crack in the curtains. kyle walked in then, his apron all dirtied. “hey, i’m craving a baguette.”
johnny laughed and looked at price like price was supposed to get something from that. of course he didn’t, but johnny’s always been good at carrying the momentum so, to no one’s surprise, he repeats the observation three days after the previous one.
“bag’o coal and lemon bread. what the hell.”
“that’s a disgusting dinner combo,” kyle chirps, switching the channels.
simon throws a pillow at him because he had been watching a documentary about moths when kyle changed the program without asking him.
“it’s just monday,” john finally replies, cementing his participation in the game. “why’s she buying lem—did she not grocery shop?”
johnny looks at him, wide-eyed. “that’s a good question, sir.” then he turns, ignoring them again to peer at their neighbour. john’s sure you’re back in your home so he really doesn’t know what johnny’s watching at that point.
simon was successful at wrestling the remote control back to him, and the program’s returned to the moths.
.
thursday evening, two and a half weeks after monday’s lemon bread and bag of coal, the game picks up again.
“who the hell makes a rug purchase during the weekdays?” kyle asks, his voice teetering between fascination and concern.
“how long’s the rug?” johnny replies, all of them watching as kyle stands in front of that slip of window they now use for ‘bird watching.’
kyle spreads his arms out—2.5 ft.
“huh,” johnny says. “for the toilet, you reckon?”
“probably for the cat, actually,” simon cuts in.
“what cat.” john doesn’t even know who asked that, but really—what cat?
“a round thing,” simon answers. “grey fur.”
“aww,” johnny croons. “that’s cute.”
john sighs and turns back to the morning paper’s crossword puzzle for the day.
.
you don’t join the neighbourhood’s annual summer barbecue party much to their disappointment. although, in all fairness, john understands your decision because they wouldn’t have gone to it anyway had they not found out that the host this year was going to be that WASP couple who still sneered at them every chance they get.
the wife, of course, couldn’t turn them away in front of the other neighbours who particularly loved kyle and, shockingly, simon so there they are, eating what is begrudgingly some good ribs while listening to the neighbourhood gossip.
and while each story was riveting, nothing could honestly hold a candle to their ‘bird’ and your peculiar grocery runs.
.
one evening, you come home with a man. john tells them it’s your ex-husband, admitting to them that yes, he’s now used up their once-a-month pass to accessing ‘special’ resources with regards to finding more about you.
“think they’re fuckin’?” johnny asks, no longer feigning disinterest.
kyle groans because it had been more than a minute now since johnny dropped a card from his stack; they tried their best to be patient as they waited, thinking mactavish needed more time since, apparently, he’s never played cards before—growing up as a catholic boy, he’s always been told that any form of gambling was a gateway to eternal damnation.
john didn’t have the heart to tell him that you didn’t have to make bets to be able to play cards.
“maybe,” simon replies, ignoring kyle’s angry grumbling. “why else would she bring him home? her house ain’t really a wonder.”
“
how do you know that?” kyle asks, his words measured and slowed.
simon blinks, then he sniffs, before looking away.
“hey!” mactavish screams, catching on. “we agreed no tampering with anythin’ of ‘ers!”
“yeah? well tell ‘at to cap’n too—he was already there when i broke in.”
johnny turns to him with a theatrical betrayed look. kyle drops his head on the table because the game’s been fully abandoned now.
“sir,” johnny says, his voice airy like he’s speaking mid-gasp. “you didn’t.”
john licks the back of his teeth, then, “jus’ wanted to see ‘er cat, s’all.”
.
the ex-husband leaves three hours later with a familiar rug tucked to his side.
.
“huh,” simon murmurs, his voice so faint that john almost missed it. “tulips and tuna today.”
johnny and kyle would’ve loved the update but the two are away for the week.
john messages it to the group chat.
suds (19:21)
> holy shit she’s improving.
.
oddly enough, it took them six months since they moved in for them to finally talk to you.
or, well, for you to talk to them.
“i’m havin’ a yard sale tomorrow,” you say after the introductions have passed, your lips tugged up in a shy smile.
john honestly couldn’t even remember how he used to envision you—old age caught up to him and for a whole while, you were nothing but a coloured blob in his eyes since they turned out to be more damaged than expected—but whatever that had been was erased the moment you stood before them.
shy and awkward, your back slouched just a little like you’re trying to curl into yourself in the face of their rapt attention, but even then you’re beautiful.
“yeah?” kyle asks, smiling; the first to break out of the trance you put them into. “and would y’need help, pretty miss?”
“oh, you,” you murmur, strained laughter peeling from your lips. “and yeah, i do. would that be alright? i tried moving my old couch downstairs and my back almost gave out. i swear, i thought i was going to see the lord today.”
johnny laughs, loud and booming. “well we’re glad that you didn’t die today, otherwise who would take care of little truffle, huh?”
john barely stopped himself from heaving out a loud sigh, an attempt made more challenging when he caught the way kyle whirled his head to glare at mactavish, the act not any less subtle since it startled you too. simon grumbles something incoherent—it’s lost amidst johnny’s petering laugh and your swelling horror.
“
how, exactly, do you know my cat’s name?”
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kissitbttr · 1 year ago
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holup— ima need a moment with my thoughts đŸ„”đŸ„” miguel sending reader’s ex a photo mid-sex is so petty and so him!! he would follow up with a video of himself giving you back shots (he’ll hide your face because he’s a gentlemen (àč‘˃̔᎗˂̔)), flip the camera around to show his face with a smirk and say “lose her number” because he’s a cocky ass mf
MAAAN you’re onto something anon, cuz a waterfall just breaks down in between my legsđŸ€€đŸ€€
-
“hmm, you like that huh, baby?”
his lips pulls into a lazy smirk, heavy panting as he pounds you from behind. both of his hands gripping onto your hips, talons digging slightly into the skin giving you the perfect pain of pleasure,
“yes papi—fuck yes” you mewl, mouth slightly wide open as you release another moan that makes his cock twitch. “i love how deep you get inside me”
he exhales a dark chuckle as he pounds faster, “sĂ© que te gusta. dirty, dirty fucking girl.” then he leans slightly to whisper on your ear. “only for me, hm?”
you nod, biting down onto your lower lip as you’re running out of things to say. your brain tends to fogged when you have his cock deep inside your cunt, but you wouldn’t have it any other way,
as he about to fist your hair up, he hears a ‘ding’ coming from your phone. his brows furrowed curiously, because who the fuck is hitting up your phone at this hour? couldn’t be someone from work,
“who’s that?” he asks breathlessly as he watches you pull your head back before grabbing your phone and check,
“aw fuck”
“what?” he asks again, hearing you groan. “who is it?”
“remember Jonathan?” you ask as you look over your shoulder at him
oh man, he does not need to be told twice.
his expression then slowly formed into anger and annoyance, grunting in disgust as he snatches your phone,
“i’ll teach him a fucking lessonïżœïżœ he says through gritted teeth, hips snapping back into yours as he continues to thrust even faster,
miguel unlocks your phone, pressing the camera before he starts to take a video of your backside. the sound of your dirty moans are filling the room as he plunges deeper, his other hand coming to give your ass a smack.
the word ‘papi’ and ‘miguel’ keeps falling off your lips like a prayer, and it just feeds his ego even more. because he knows that Jonathan will watch this video and learns that you don’t belong to that sorry excuse of a man anymore.
no. you belong to him.
“tell me, baby” he adjusts the camera to the back of your head, making sure that your face isn’t in it. “who’s pussy is this?”
“yours” you say without any hesitation, knuckles turning white from gripping the sheets far too hard. “and no one else’s”
“good girl” he then flips the camera to show his face. his expression is dead serious, eyes locked into the screen as if he’s staring Jonathan in person. and for the icing on a cake, his fangs make a tiny bit appearance just to creep him off.
“lose her number, tĂș hijo de puta. or i’ll kill you” with that he sends it to your ex, throwing your phone to the side. “now he fucking knows to not text you anymore ”
hearing that makes you flush as you giggle. miguel’s hand slowly glide down against you back and pressing you onto the mattress so he can lay his body down completely on top. “my woman” he whispers lowly into your ear,
“hm, maybe next time if he does it again, you should take a picture of me sucking your cock, right papi?” you suggest with a sly smirk,
he groans at that, his hand coming up to choke you as the other supporting his weight beside your torso.
“ay, that’s why you’re my everything, mami”
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nanaslutt · 1 year ago
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okey so brainrot: this is RLLY WEIRD IM SORRY but the reader is like innocent/shy and doesn't really have any experiences regarding sex so like one day she asks satoru to "show her" how to touch herself but he demonstrates it on a fruit (like on an orange? peach? or smth like that) then things get heated😉. I DONT KNOW IF I EXPLAINED THIS WELL
Gojo teaching you to touch yourself on an orange.. and things escalate..
contains: fem reader, teasing, sexual tension, fingering, guided masturbation, experienced gojo, readers first orgasm, he talks you through it, 99% of this is dirty talk and nasty dialogue
MDNI
°❀⋆.àłƒàż”*:°❀⋆.àłƒàż”*:°❀⋆.àłƒàż”*:°❀⋆.àłƒàż”*:°❀⋆.àłƒàż”
*Ding* the sound of a video recording starting chimed from Gojo’ phone, “Okay okay, say that again for me?~” The white haired man cooed cockily.
“Gojo you asshole! Ugh, forget it, I was stupid to ask you.” You threw your arms up in defeat, rolling your eyes as you turned to walk out of his room, embarrassed.
“Noooonono,” he cried, the chime sounded again, ending the video, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t tease you like that~” The man was suddenly behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso and rocking you side to side, “Forgive me, I was wrong okayy~” he tried to reason, he really didn’t want to blow this.
After all, his cute little friend had just burst into his room and confessed that she had never touched herself before and was wanting some guidance; knowing gojo had some experience with women under his belt, you came to him for help.
“To make it up to you, I won’t even make you pay for this session how bout that?” he grinned behind you annoyingly, poking his head out to the side of you so you could see his expression through your peripheral vision.
“What are you some sex therapist?” you laughed, making him sigh in relief. “I’ll be anything you need me to be~” he wiggled his eyebrows, making you shrug his heavy body off of you in faux disgust.
“So, you a visual learner? or more hands on?” He asked when you turned your body to face him once more, letting him drag you so you were sitting on the end of his bed.
“I’m not uh.. really sure when it comes to this.” you confessed. “You’re not sure of much huh?” he teased, making you punch his shoulder lightly, “haha, you’ll know soon if you’re a hands on learner or not.” he said ambiguously.
But you trusted gojo with this for some reason..
..which might’ve been a mistake.
You did not anticipate how riled up this situation would get you. You’ve always found gojo attractive; who didn’t; but you came to him because nothing had ever happened between the two of you before, you were friends, you were sure the atmosphere wouldn’t feel so embarrassing but—
“This is your clit, you wanna make little circles on it like this with one or two fingers,” The white haired man spoke, currently holding half an orange in one hand, and rubbing tight circles onto the suggestive looking slit of the fruit with the other.
Gojo was sat in front of you on his chair while you sat on the bed, his legs spread as he held the fruit out in front of him and instructed you on it.
“Don’t wanna go too fast either, wanna work yourself up a bit.” He spoke, looking up at you every so often to make sure you were paying attention; this was important after all.
“If you start getting too needy, rub your fingers down here-“ he dragged his long digits down to the middle of the fruit, presumably where the opening to your pussy would be.
He rubbed his fingers on the outside of the slit, in a ‘come hither’ motion; not inserting his fingers; just caressing them on the outside, occasionally rubbing them back and forth over the opening.
“You paying attention?” he checked, snapping you out of your stupor as your eyes flitted up to his, you were hoping the blush on your face wasn’t as evident as it felt. You just gave a curt nod at his question, not trusting your voice to sound steady right now.
The longer and longer this went on, the needier and needier you we’re feeling between your own legs, a heat was growing between them and you were praying gojo hadn’t noticed that your legs were crossed not in comfort but because you had been steadily squeezing them together and rubbing your pussy against the rough denim stitch your jeans made for awhile now.
“Good, it gets a little more interesting now so make sure you’re paying attention.” he says, waiting for you nod again before he continued.
“This is your vaginal opening, this is where you would put your little fingers inside yourself when you masturbate.” he said, “or get fucked heh,” he adds vulgarly, making himself smile.
“Start with one finger, especially since you’ve never done anything here before right?” He asks, still nonchalantly rubbing his fingers against the slit while he waits for you to once again acknowledge his words; his piercing blue eyes staring bullets through you as he does so.
“Y-yeah.” You verbally answered, silently begging for him to continue. If you tried hard enough, you could almost feel him touching you like that instead of the stupid fruit, who you were unnecessarily jealous of at the moment.
“It’s gonna be tight, and it might not feel like much at first-“ You held your breath as he spoke, waiting for his next moves. Gojo looked down at the fruit, teasing a circle around the slit one last time before he pressed the tip of his finger into the center deeper and deeper, making juices spill out around it. “But a couple inches inside, there’s gonna be a little rough patch.” he tells you.
“A rough patch?” you repeat, confused. “Your g-spot.” he answered, “It’s gonna make you feel soo good.” he smirks, looking up at you from his ministrations on the fruit. “All you gotta do is ruuub~ like this-“ he demonstrates, massaging upwards inside the slit of the fruit, making vulgar squelching noises emanate around the room.
“It’ll even sound similar if you’re doing it right,” he adds, giggling to himself. “Can you do both?” you ask, hoping the breathlessness of your words wasn’t able to be picked up by Gojo’s ears.
He tilts his head to the side for a second, questioning what you mean before his eyes light up when he fully registers what you were asking, “Ohhh~ You want me to show you how to touch your clit and finger yourself at the same time?” he asked, a slightly mocking lilt to his voice.
“Oh I just- I wanted to know if it was possible..” you shyly clarified, looking away for a second, suddenly way too aware of his eyes on you.
“Aww~ of course it’s possible!” he beamed. You watched his thumb come up and pet the top of the slit of the orange, where your clit would be, and rubbed back and forth when his fingers thrusted out of the slit. “You can use two hands if this is too uncomfortable,” He adds.
“Most women cant cum unless you give ur little clit some attention, even with how good touching yourself inside can feel.” Gojo spoke.
“Have you ever-“ you gulped, “made someone cum from just the inside?” you asked, taking the brief pause he took to answer to add, “I-I just wanna know if it’s p-possible is all!”
“Oh yeah~” he answers in a heartbeat after your last sentence, “Even made a couple squirt from just the inside too.” he brags.
“Shit,” you accidentally mumble, not meaning to actually say that our loud, “What was that?” he asks, playing dumb when he mentally recorded the word that fell from your lips, making his ego swell.
“Oh n-nothing.” you brushed it off, waving your hand in front of yourself, urging him to continue his teachings. “Make sure when your fingers are inside that pump them in-“ he slowly drags his fingers out of the fruit, juices coating them, making you squeeze your legs together at the lewd image, “and out, that you also curl them inside at the same time.” he instructs.
“That’s how you’re gonna make your g-spot happy and get the most of your pleasure.” Gojo finishes.
Your mouth was completely dry at this point, leg bouncing in impatience, still subtly squeezing your thighs together for even the smallest bit of relief while you watched the juices drip down his lengthy fingers.
“Well that’s about it for the basics, I think you can go pretty far with what i’ve taught you, if you can remember it all.” He giggles, raising from the chair and moving to set the fruit on the table.
“Wait!” you say a little too loudly, hopping he didn’t sense the need in your voice, “Um.. I think I might be a hands on learner..” You confess, “I’m still a little confused..”
Gojo stops in his tracks, retracting his hand that’s holding the fruit back towards his body as a sinister smirk grows on his face. “Yeah?” he asks, cheering internally when you not coyly.
“Alright then, class is back in session!!” he throws his hands up, walking over to you.
When you think he’s going to sit back down in the chair he actually walks past it, and past you. You turn your head to see where he was going but your muscles freeze and tense up when you feel the bed dip behind you, followed by his strong chest pressing snugly against your back.
“This okay?” he asks before he continues, to which you nod. “Need to hear you say it, sweets.” You blush at the nickname, glad he can’t see your face like this, “Yes, this is okay.” you confirm softly.
“Alright, here” he holds the fruit out to you, and you take it in both your smaller hands. “I’m gonna walk you through it, that sound okay?” he checks, smiling to himself when you let out a meek ‘mhm.’
He pulls the both of you further back on the bed, so he’s resting comfortably upright against the bed frame, and you following suit against his chest. “Comfortable?” the while haired man whispers far too close to your ear.
“Y-yes,” you confirm once more, the hitch of your breath made him smile to himself.
“Okayy~ Ideally you would want to work yourself up by playing with your chest first,, slowly drag your fingers down your body, touch yourself over your pants and all that— but we only have an orange so this will have to do!” he says, not realizing (?) how hot his words were making you.
“Start by slowly touching your clit.” He spoke, as if you were really touching yourself right now. Your shaky fingers came down to find the top of the slit, rubbing one finger against where you guessed your clit would be, as he watched intently over your shoulder.
“Yeah, right there good job.” he praised, making you wish you were back to sitting on the bed with your legs crossed so you could squeeze them together. It would be a little too risky to try anything when he was so close to you, you bet he could hear your heartbeat beating out of your chest from how the two of you were squished together right now.
“A little faster now.” he instructed, licking his lips behind you as he felt your breath pick up when you drew faster circles against the fruit, wet ‘schlick’ noises echoing in your ears.
“Like this?” you asked, switching up the direction of the circles every so often, “Oh yeah, you’re a pro,” he giggled into your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine, “You sure you’ve never touched yourself before?”
“Well I have but it.. it didn’t feel like much.” you confessed, blushing at your own revealing words. “I see..” he ponders, cerulean eyes focused on your smaller fingers playing with the fruit.
“I have an idea, something that might help you understand a little better, if your open to it,” he pauses you, his big hand coming to stop your movements against the orange.
“Um, what is it?” you ask hesitantly. The white haired man leaned a little too close for comfort, making you whine out loud when he whispered, “You trust me?” into the shell of your ear.
Truthfully, Gojo had been hard from the moment you asked him to teach you how to touch yourself. Stealing glances at your thighs pressing together not so subtly when he was talking you through step by step how to pleasure yourself, watching you suck your lip into your mouth when his words became a little too dirty, how your breath picked up when he inserted his fingers into the slit of the fruit.
He was losing his mind, his patience was wearing increasingly thinner and thinner at your reactions, he knew exactly what he was doing to you, and your obliviousness was making his cock drip pre steadily into his boxers.
Thank god for his baggy sweater or you might’ve (100% would’ve) noticed the huge hard on he was sporting in his sweats. He was surprised you didn’t say anything when he was pressed against your back, assuming you were too enthralled and overwhelmed with what was going on to notice.
“I trust you.” you responded honestly, making his cock twitch against the fabric that confined it.
“I’m gonna touch this fruit just how I just showed you, and you’re going to mimic me, on yourself.” He whispered, his hot breath against the shell of your ear making you shiver.
“R-right here? now?” you asked clarifying his words, slight panic and embarrassment seeping into your tone. “I saw you rubbing your thighs together, you’re aching for it, right? What better time to practice getting off when you’re actually all worked up?” He made a good point, you’ve been wanting to touch yourself for half an hour now, you were sure you had completely soaked through your panties by this point.
You made a sound of embarrassment, eyes darting around the room at him having exposed you, “Awww heh, don’t be embarrassed, I’m in the same boat.” he confessed, trying to comfort you, “Been so hard since you asked me for help.”
His words did little to comfort you, making you even more flustered as you covered your eyes with the hand you weren’t holding the orange in, “Okay- just.. just do something, please.” you begged, not being able to take the throbbing between your own legs anymore.
“Okay okay, all you gotta do is follow my lead, kay?” he clarifies, grabbing your wrist and pulling off of your face so he could see your expression from the side. When he heard you let out a meek ‘okay’ he reached for the orange and set it down on the bed for a moment.
“Go ahead and take off your pants for me,, leave your panties on.” Came Gojo’s first instructions. You followed, leaning forward and away from his chest, your fingers worked quickly at undoing your button and zipper, sliding your fingers underneath the waistband as you pulled the garment off your body, revealing your soft-looking skin to Gojos eyes.
When you leaned back against him he dragged the tips of his fingers along your thighs, his assumption of your soft skin becoming true as he dragged his digits all the way up to your hips, gripping your waist for a moment before he complimented, “So fucking soft.”
“Spread your legs pretty,” His soothing voice told you, staring intently between your legs, wishing he had a better view, but after this little scene he had high hopes he would have no problem getting a closer look at you.
You did as you were told, you parted your knees, feet propped up on the bed as you waited with bated breath for his next instruction, feeling yourself throb behind the drenched fabric.
He reached for the fruit again, holding it with both hands in front of you, as he started tapping with one long finger on the ‘clit’ of the orange. When you didn’t move your own finger to repeat him he pats your pelvis lightly with his hand, “I know i’m addicting to watch, but you gotta touch yourself too.” He laughs, making you snap out of your stupor as you forgot you were supposed to be mimicking him.
“S-sorry, do it again.” you request, really focusing on his fingers against the fruit this time while you started sliding your own fingers inside your panties.
“Uh-uh” he warned, his voice alone stopping your hand in its tracks, “Over your panties, I’ll tell you when to touch yourself directly, I’ll take care of everything.” He explains, leaving a small peck against the side of your head.
“Alright, just pay attention that’s all you gotta do.” Gojo starts up again, tapping his fingers on the fruit and this time you follow him, tapping your finger over your wet panties, right against your clit.
The little stimulation alone was so intense, after being worked up for so long this relief was much needed. “Feels good to touch yourself after being so horny huh?” He spoke, like he was reading your mind.
‘Mhm’ you respond, letting your body relax against him, your head coming back to lay against his chest as you let yourself feel what he was allowing you to.
“I bet it does..” Gojo smirks, looking at your lithe shaky fingers tapping softly against your clothed mound. After a couple of seconds he decided to press against the fruit, starting up the small circles, “lightly.” He reminded.
You followed suit, the circles felt worlds better than the tapping, the consistent pressure and pattern was making you dizzy. The first actual whimper of the night left your lips and it made Gojo’s cock twitch in his pants.
He cooed at you when you squeezed your eyes shut, mouth dropping open in a small o shape while you continued your ministrations, “Cant follow directions with your eyes shut can you? Or you got some kinda super power I’m unaware of~?” he joked, making you crack your eyes open and look at his fingers again.
You noticed he had picked up his pace, you were unsure of when he did but you were happy you noticed now. You were appreciative at getting to touch yourself but were growing needy with the slow pace of his fingers. “F-fuck.” You gasped out, your hips bucking into your finger as you quickened the movement.
“Talk to me, how’s it feel.” Gojo was growing impatient himself, he loved teasing you and he knew he should take this slow especially since it was your fist time touching yourself properly— but the thought of pressing your back down into a mean arch while he just pulled your panties aside and fucked his cock into you at the hilt was constantly in the back of his mind.
He loved teasing his sex partners, but he’s never done anything like this before. Taking it this slow and instructing someone like this was new to him. It was so intimate, and so soft, and his dick really fucking liked it.
“F-feels so good, I- I wanna take my panties off.” you confessed, your ass bumping against his hard on every time your hips humped against your finger. “Yeah? Wanna touch your wet pussy directly?” He spoke, biting his lip as he held back a groan.
“Yes-yes- please..” You begged, the way he was talking was making your need to have something inside you— to feel more—so much worse.
“Soon, I promise.” He said, rubbing his long fingers against the slid of the fruit, making quiet squelching noises as he ran his finger up and down the length of it. He smiled to himself when you listened quicker this time, you were catching on.
You rubbed two fingers over the length of your pussy, moaning when he stopped his movements and pressed on and off against the hole of the fruit, where the opening of your pussy would be.
You repeated the action, feeling the fabric of your wet panties get pushed against the entrance of your little hole, “I cant tell if those sounds are you, or the fruit.” Gojo laughed breathlessly, becoming dizzy at the squelching that became louder and louder in his ears.
“Gojo..” you wined needily into the air. “Okay, okay,” His resolve cracked much faster than it normally would’ve. He knew he was the one in control right now but it felt like you had him on a leash, controlling his every move. Just a couple of wines from you was enough to make him fold, giving in to what you wanted.
He grinned watching you hastily remove your panties and spreading your legs once more, being so obedient by not immediately touching yourself and instead digging your nails into your thighs and waiting for his fingers to move against the orange.
He wanted to see how long you could hold out, but his dick and head alike were yelling at him to move his own fingers so he could watch you touch yourself, so that’s exactly what he did. Using two long fingers he rubbed hard circles again the fruit, his giggles shaking your body when you jumped into action with no hesitation, rubbing and pinching your clit between your fingers as you slid them back and forth, spelling letters and drawing shapes on it— whatever gojo did, you did.
“Fuck Gojo, this feels so good-“ you moaned, fighting the urge to let your head fall back as you felt an unfamiliar coil tighten itself in your tummy.
“I know baby I know.” His voice spoke with need, taking all four of his fingers and smacking them against the entire fruit, just so you would repeat him so he could hear how wet you were. “Oh shiit, you’re fucking drenched.” He groaned, his eyes briefly rolling back into his head before he started rubbing little circles again.
“This turning you on? huh?” He spoke, “You like when I show you how to treat your little pussy?” His words made you moan, going off of his instruction and quickening the pace of your fingers against yourself, “I know you wanna cum but you gotta slow down, I didn’t speed up my fingers so you don’t get to either~” Gojo reminded.
Being the obedient girl you were, you slowed your fingers down, “Sorry, ‘m sorry,” you apologized profusely, “It’s alright,” He smiled, “It just feels so good huh?” Again, it was like he was reading your mind.
“So good, s-so so good.” you whine. “Let’s make you feel ever better, huh?” Gojo spoke against your ear, his breathy laugh tickling your skin. He dragged his fingers down to the slit of the fruit, just teasing the entrance, watching your fingers do the same.
“I cant go as deep on my model here, but when I put them inside, I want you to go deep okay?” He said. “Okay, okay.” You rush, anxious but excited to have something inside of you.
“Good girl, such a good listener.” He praised, making your cunt clench around nothing. “Okay, here we go~” Gojo slowly pushed a single finger into the fruit, his jaw dropping with a smile when he watched your smaller finger insert itself into your walls.
“Yeahhh, how does that feel?” He asks, his cock dripping out more pre into his boxers, throbbing and twitching against its confines. “Fuck.. ‘s tight.” you whine, making him groan into the air.
“Yeah? Can you feel yourself twitching?” Gojo is trying to pull as many details out of you as he can, his cock was aching for it. “Y-yes, so much- ngh-“ you choke on a moan when you start to slide your finger it in and out, following Gojo’s lead.
“Remember to curl your finger twords the top of your tummy when you put it inside,” He instructs, watching your body jolt when you follow his instruction. “Oh fu-“ you cut yourself off with a breathless moan when you feel it— your gspot.
You’ve never felt anything like this before, it almost felt more intense than touching your clit, but drastically different, you didn’t know what part was your favorite— you were becoming enthralled with your own body.
“Fuck it- it feels so good Gojo-“ you whine, turning your head against his chest so you’re making eye contact with him. “I know baby I knoww~” He cooes down at you, shaking his head.
“Put another finger when you can take it, it’ll feel so much better.” he reveals, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth while he waited with bated breath as you pulled out your finger, covered in your juices— which made him grown— before you reinserted it, this time with your ring finger joining in tandem.
“Ohmygod-“ you cry, “It’s s-so much tighter gojo-“ you looked back down at his fingers, mimicking his increasingly rough pace as he looses his mind a bit at your use of his last name.
“Satoru baby, call me satoru.” He desperately needed to hear you say his name properly, every cell in his body was aching for it. “Sa-toru! Toru fuck!” you whine. His eyes roll back, his head falling suit and bumping against the headboard at his name leaving your lips.
“Yeah, keep saying my name sweet thing,” he groaned, not able to stop himself from humping against your lower back any longer, the air around you becoming increasingly thicker at how aroused the two of you were becoming.
Suddenly something snapped inside Gojo and he discarded the orange on the floor, wrapping one strong arm around your torso while he brought his juice soaked fingers to your lips, tapping them for you to open up for him.
“Yesss, good fucking girl, don’t stop your fingers- fuckkk-“ The white haired man groaned when your tongue eagerly licked around his fingers, he groaned at the warmth of your mouth, pushing his fingers as far as you would let him into your mouth, coughing a bit around them when they tickled the back of your throat.
“Play with your clit too sweetie, wanna see you cum all over your fingers.” He directed, keeping his fingers snug in your mouth as you moaned and whined around them, his other hand gripping the side of your waist strong enough to leave bruises as your other hand joined the mix on your pussy, rubbing quick circles with perfect pressure right against your clit.
“Fuck, you feel it? You gonna cum?” He groaned when your body jerked more frequently, breath coming in shorter pants as well, a sign of your impending orgasm.
You nodded against him, moaning around his fingers as you quickened your thrusts, the squelching emanating louder in the room as your juices started pooling around your fingers.
“Yesyesyes, take it, keep rubbing your clit just like that, fuck-“ Gojo felt like he was about to cum himself, lightheaded and entranced at the scene in front of him— watching you please yourself so eagerly. He couldn’t believe he was about to witness your first ever orgasm, something he only ever dreamed about.
You tried to speak his name around his fingers, warning him you were about to cum but it came out muffled. He removed his fingers from your mouth, grabbing your jaw with the same hand, and smearing your spit messily against your skin— he directed your head to look between your legs.
“Watch yourself cum baby, want you to take it all in, remember how fucking good this feels.” He instructed, as you whined and moaned his name freely into the room.
“Toru- I- I think i’m cumming!! fuck-“ you cried, squeezing your eyes shut as the dam broke.
“Oh yesyesyes- there you fucking go~ good fucking girl~” He talked you through it as you came all over your fingers— cum gushing out around them as your cunt pulsed around your digits, body jerking in on itself after every wave of your high, your legs and hands shaking at the intensity.
You panted as you came down from your first ever orgasm, barely registering that Gojo was praising you as your mind felt fuzzy, you were feeling complete bliss, you couldn’t believe it took you so long to finally do this— you were addicted.
“Satoru- ngh-“ you whined in sensitivity as you slowly pulled out your fingers, holding your soaked digits up into the air and blushing at how they shined in the light with how wet they were.
Gojo reached for your wrist, shamelessly bringing your hand to his mouth as he sucked your fingers into his mouth, moaning and eyes rolling back at the taste. Your face blushed increasingly darker at his antics, clenching your thighs at how his soft tongue felt cleaning off your fingers.
After he popped them out of his mouth a dopey grin made itself home on his face, “So fucking sweet too.” he praised, licking his lips to clean up any drop of your juices he might’ve missed.
Gojo squeezed his arm around you tighter, gripping your face once more as he made you turn your head more directly towards him before he spoke again, “Wanna learn how to touch a dick next?”
pt. 2 here
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monstersflashlight · 1 month ago
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Day 9. Monster-kinktober: Devilish charm + Lingerie/Overstimulation
A/N: Idea from this anon a couple days ago and wonderful @yesdangerpls <3
Vampire x fem!reader || mirror sex, teasing, overstimulation, dirty talk, (light) degradation, (very light) mind control || tw: blood
Having a vampire boyfriend had never been so sexy and exasperating at the same time.
He sat behind you on the floor, in front of the mirror, and you sat on his lap almost naked, only a tiny pair of flimsy panties pushed to the side. You could only see yourself in front of you, but you could hear every intake of breath he took behind you, his chest expanding every time he took a breath to taste your scent. You could feel his hand on your leg, spreading you wide for you to see every single inch of your stretched pussy around his fingers, his fangs rubbing against your pulse point as he did what he pleased with your pliant body. It was intoxicating in the filthiest way.
He compelled you to look at the mirror, unable to look away or close your eyes if not to blink. It was the most erotic and intense experience of your life. He was slowly fingering you, so, so slowly. He was touching you in all the right places, scissoring his fingers inside of you so you could see your pink insides.
Not seeing him added an extra spark of anticipation because you didn’t know what he was going to do next until he did, and that added fire to your already burning arousal. Seeing yourself acting so needy and desperate, such a slut for him
 It did something for you.
“Did you have enough, sunshine?” He asked after your second orgasm. “Do you want me to play with your pretty pussy a bit more?” You tried to say something, but the only thing that escaped your open mouth was a whorish moan. He laughed and pushed your panties to their original position, patting the damp fabric over your oversensitive pussy until tears were rolling down your face.
“Please, please
 Have mercy on me, please
” You chanted, trying to move your hips and get some kind of friction, but his teeth on your neck stopped you. His fangs against your jugular were a constant reminder that he had all the power there, you were just his toy to play with.
He laughed cruelly against your ear when your whole body froze. “Such a good girl when you want to be, aren’t you, sunshine?” You nodded softly, still feeling his fangs against your neck, pumping adrenaline through your system and making you whimper with need, your pussy tingling with the need to come.
To your surprise, he didn’t push your panties to the side again, but next thing you felt was the tip of his dick against the soaked fabric over your tender flesh. “Wha- what are you doing? Take the panties off!” You exclaimed when you felt his cock pushing inside over the panties, the cotton rubbing your insides in such a way that your brain was slowly melting.
He laughed cruelly. “Nah, I like it this way.”
“Bu- but, they are
” Your voice deflated as his cock pushed the cotton inside of you, the tip of his cock alongside it. It looked indecent in the mirror in front of you, the stretch, the pull

It should be disgusting, but you were embarrassed to admit it was weirdly hot. You were wetter and wetter every time he pushed the tip inside, making filthy sounds as your drenched pussy swallowed him. The image in front of you was downright obscene, your legs open and your panties moving in and out your body with the movement of his hips. You’d never seen anything so sinful.
“Look at that
 you act all proper and demure, but in reality you are such a slut, sunshine. All ready to let me do whatever I want and then you say thank you, don’t you?” He teased as his hips continued moving. You cried out when his hand moved from your leg to your pussy, rubbing your clit over the fabric. “Just like that
 So pretty and desperate
” He kissed your neck, the pinpricks of his fangs drew a tiny bit of blood down your neck, which rapidly disappeared as his tongue cleaned it.
You were mesmerized as he did everything to your body, unable to move and to look away
 At his mercy. The images in front of you were going to be burned in your brain forever.
“Come for me, sunshine, let me see, let us see.” And like a resort, your body responded to his order and you fell apart, making such a mess of the panties that you could see your juices gushing through the fabric, such a dirty thing coming from your sinful body. “Now we do it again,” he said as he tore the fabric right in the middle, your pussy suddenly exposed. It was shiny with your release and your combined juices, but you knew he hadn’t come yet. “Now I fuck you for real,” he announced as you felt and saw how his dick breached your pussy. The image in the mirror like anything you’d ever seen. You could see everything

He didn’t let you accommodate to his girth before he was fucking up to you, your body bouncing on his lap, your tits moving up and down as he chuckled against your ear and called you his dirty slut, his pretty sunshine and all the dirty things you enjoyed more than you’d like to admit. It was mesmerizing to see and mind-blowing to experience. And when he bite down on your neck and you saw the punctures open at the same time his venom went into your pliant body
 you exploded into a million tiny pieces of pleasure that left you blind for a few seconds. Your brain melted inside your head and your head was thrown back in a silent scream as you came and came and came...
You returned to your body after a life altering experience, to see yourself still bouncing on his dick, your eyes crossed in the mirror and your mouth open, drooling all over your tits because the combination of vampire venom with his dick hitting your G-spot was too much. “It’s too much, I can’t
” You begged.
“Yes, you can darling, just one more for me,” he whispered in your ear. You shivered, your body responding to his words even when your brain wouldn’t cooperate.
“I can’t,” you cried, tears slowly running down your cheeks.
He grabbed your chin and forced you to look into the mirror. You looked pathetic, eyes red and pussy so wet and shiny it looked like a mess of fluids, some of his cum leaking out. You didn’t even feel when he came, but his release was mixed with yours, moving inside at each thrust. But he didn’t stop, he was still going.
“Look at that, look how pathetic you look right now, you are already a mess.” You couldn’t see him in the mirror but you knew he was smirking. “Let’s make it worse,” he growled the last word and you felt like lightning hit your body, electrifying every inch of your skin and making every touch feel like the most agonizing pleasure you’d ever felt. He kissed your cheek softly, such a contrast with his hips moving like a piston fucking into you, leaving a red mark of your blood against your skin. “Such a good girl, sunshine
 We are going to have so much more fun.”
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rowarn · 11 months ago
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PLEASE, LOVE ME. PT2
simon riley / reader
FIND PART ONE || read the full thing on ao3
tags: childhood friends, friends2lovers, virgin!reader, soft!simon, protective!simon, afab!reader, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, MDNI
cw: reader is over 20, pining, masturbation (reader), loss of virginity, explicit workplace sexual harassment/assault, so much crying, one-sided love, not-really-unrequited love, vomiting, panic attacks, depression, crying, sex related shame, PTSD (reader), codependency but cute, self-deprecating thoughts, slut shaming, wet dream, dry humping, simon fucks up tho, reference to suicide & suicidal ideation, really nasty argument, reader hits simon sorry, apologizes tho!!!, reader struggles to orgasm, drinking, fooling around while drunk (no sex), breast play, fingering, orgasm denial, simon's a tease, p-in-v, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, creampie, mating press, missionary, simon's dirty mouth, dirty talk, wet&messy, big cock, uncut simon bc i said so, reassurance & encouragement, some pain upon penetration, clit spanking, post-coital crying!!!!!!, aftercare, briefly edited so apologies for any lingering mistakes
note: this is part two and contains the gratuitous smut portion ur all looking forward to &lt;3
you've loved him since you were children. after a confession when you were 14 went rejected, you vowed to never let your feelings be known again. but after an incident that left you hurt and fragile, you find it hard to keep that promise.
PART 2: 17.9k total: 35.8k
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Things seem to get much better between you. Your anger and resentment towards Simon diminishes significantly and you can finally say you feel comfortable around him again. You wouldn’t say you’ve forgotten everything that happened, you fear that the entire ordeal has left its scar on you. 
But you finally feel ready to truly begin to work on yourself and get to a better place mentally. 
You’re humming to yourself as you dust the surfaces in your living room, cringing in disgust when you see how dusty a particular shelf was. 
Just as you go to give it another swipe, your front door opens and Simon stumbles in, huffing from effort as he carries two armfuls of groceries. 
“Simon!” you cry out, watching with wide eyes from the stepstool you stood on as he ungracefully dropped them on the floor, “Why did you bring them all up here like that?”
“Didn’t wanna make another trip,” he explained lamely, flexing his hands as he looked over all the bags.
“Okay, I guess,” you chuckle softly. 
Simon finally looks up at you, “What are you doing?”
“Cleaning,” you shrug, waving the duster at him, “I haven’t felt like doing it until now so might as well get it done when I feel like it!”
He’s quiet for a moment before he steps over the bags of groceries.His boots thunk heavily on the floor as he approaches you. Suddenly, he wraps an arm around your middle. You squeak in surprise when he very carefully and gently pulls you off of the stool and places you back onto your feet. 
Then he walks away like nothing happened, snatching up a couple groceries up from the floor to take to the kitchen. 
You decide not to comment on his behavior and simply choose to grab a couple of bags and help him out. When you get inside the kitchen, he’s already stuffing things into the refrigerator. You place the bags down and go back to pick some more up, transferring all the bags of groceries near him so he can easily put them away. 
You notice one of the bags has some piping, lightbulbs, wires, and other things you can’t identify. 
“What’s all this?” you ask, holding the bag out to him when he turns to look.
He grunts, closing the fridge, “Gonna fix some shit around here.”
“Why?” you ask, scrunching your nose up as you place the bag on the counter.
“Shithole needs it,” he mumbles, moving to start opening the cabinets, “Since you refuse to let me move you out of this place, I’m gonna make sure it at least functions.”
You hum and nod your head. Simon had attempted to convince you to move out and into an apartment of his own choosing but you flat out refused. He was already paying the rent on this place, you weren’t going to let him spend more money for a different place – because you know Simon would choose somewhere that would cost a lot more than your current flat. 
But you couldn’t deny, the idea of Simon doing a little manual labor around the apartment made your heart flutter in your chest. The way he took care of you and was willing to get his hands dirty just to make sure you were comfortable. The little domestic tasks you could imagine him doing. 
It almost felt like something a husband would do. 
You felt your cheeks flush immediately at the train of thought. How embarrassing and juvenile to think something like that
“I can cook dinner!” you mumble after clearing your throat. 
Simon actually has the audacity to laugh. You frown as he shakes his head, closing the cabinet before turning to you. 
“Absolutely not,” he says.
Your jaw drops, “Why?!”
“Because,” he steps closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before breezing past you, “You’re a terrible cook, love.”
You open your mouth to retort but can only huff. Because he’s right. The last time you tried to make dinner for the two of you, you had confused cayenne with cinnamon and made the most diabolical stew known to man. He vowed to never let you cook anything that required more than boiling water since. 
You pout your way back to the living room, mumbling a petulant, “Fine
” as you went.
You didn’t catch the broad grin on Simon’s face as he watched you sulk away. He was just happy to see your vibrance returning before his very eyes.
True to his word, however, he began to do some random odd jobs around the apartment. He changed that damn leaky faucet in the kitchen first. He would never admit it but it was beginning to drive him completely mad. He swore he could hear it dripping into the metal sink basin in his dreams.
Then he fixed the piping in the bathroom so they would stop all that god-awful clanking that practically woke up the entire complex. But after that, he figured he might as well fix the piping under the sinks as well.
That’s when you saw him. On his back, big body sprawled out as he worked underneath the cabinet, wrench in hand and soft grunts of effort coming from him. His t-shirt rose up just a bit, exposing a small stretch of tummy and his happy trail. Every once in a while, you could see his muscles flex and it made your mouth go completely dry. 
You felt like a Victorian man seeing his first ankle on a woman. Ridiculous. 
Sure, you’d seen Simon shirtless countless times – hell, you walked in on him completely naked once or twice. But there was something particularly
delicious about him like this. Unaware, casual, just doing work. 
It made a swell of heat settle in your abdomen. You squeezed your thighs together as you watched him. His biceps flexed and bulged, making the sleeve of his t-shirt grow taut around his skin. His muscles moved underneath the tattoos inked into his skin. 
You dragged your eyes down his body, past his pecs, past the sliver of tummy. You imagined yourself crawling between those thick thighs and unbuckling his belt, tugging at the button of his jeans. You imagined getting to see his cock chub up inside his boxers before you would pull it out and wrap your lips around the leaking tip. 
Salty, you imagine. You’ve always heard that men’s cum and pre-cum would be salty. Would Simon’s taste as bad as some of your friends had told you back in highschool? You hoped not. You couldn’t imagine not enjoying every part of him – even his cum.
You wanted him to shoot in your mouth, let you taste it. You wanted to milk it out of him, give him no choice but to cum down your throat.
“Are you just going to stand there or do you need something?” his voice startled you out of your thoughts.
Wide eyed, you looked to meet his gaze but you found he wasn’t even looking at you, still staring at the piped overhead.
“Um,” you cleared your throat, floundering for an excuse as to why you were ogling him like a piece of meat, “I didn’t want to interrupt you. I-I was just wanting to make sure the shower was okay to use?”
He grunts, letting out a soft sigh  before pushing himself out from under the sink, closing the cabinet before wiping his brow with the back of his hand, “Yeah, go ahead and shower, love.”
You give him a tight-lipped smile, casting one last glance to see that his t-shirt had fallen back into place. Disappointing. 
You trudge out of the kitchen and into the bathroom. Softly, you close the door and turn on the shower. The pipes don’t clang when the water shoots through them. It brings a smile to your face.
Once you’re stripped and standing under the warm spray, you let your hands wander your body. First, you cup your breasts, watching your nipples harden under your own touch before you slide one hand between your thighs. There’s a slickness between your folds that's distinctly different from the water, it’s slippery and sticky. But it makes your touch against your clit easy. 
You bite your lips to keep quiet, scared to death that Simon could hear you from under the sound of the water. You make quick, tight little circles against your clit. The bud is hard and twitches under your fingers. It makes the breath stutter out of your chest. 
You need more room, you realize, hiking your foot up onto a shelf. It spreads you open just a little more, gives you a little more access for your fingers to play. You sigh, head tipping forward to watch as you circle your own clit. 
But the more you touch yourself, the faster that tingling, warm sensation dissipates. You huff through your clenched teeth, frustrated. 
Usually, you could at least feel the beginning of that peak forming but this time
not even close. So you shamefully close your legs and go about your shower as if nothing happened, taking care to wash the slick from between your thighs especially.
As you lay in bed that night, Simon breathing deeply beside you as he slept, you were lost in thought. 
Surely, you were in the wrong for thinking about Simon like that – for getting wet at the sight of him. And then sleeping soundly next to him as if you weren’t some kind of pervert. Maybe you should just confess and apologize to him. 
No. You quickly admonish that thought, glancing over at his prone form. You couldn’t bear to see him be disgusted by you. He’d already rejected you years ago, finalized it and put the nail in the coffin so you would never be dumb enough to do it again. 
What would he do if he found out about your
attraction to him? He practically lived with you now, after everything happened. He was in your flat more than he was on base now. It was only a matter of time before he caught you with your hands dancing in your pants. 
Your cheeks flushed at the idea. Part of you thought it hot – for him to find you needy like that, desperately playing with your clit as you try to make yourself cum. 
But on the other hand, you could see the wrinkle of disgust in his brow and sneer on his face as he walked away. That outcome was not worth it, you decided. 
With a sigh, you rolled over so your back faced Simon and closed your eyes for the night. 
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You both should have known better that the fragile peacefulness between the two of you was just that – fragile, balancing on a delicate precipice that could shatter at any moment. 
The ring of his phone was the break. 
“Answer that for me, love!” he called from the kitchen where he was busy preparing dinner. 
You leaned forward to check the number. It wasn’t in his contacts but Simon never got calls from people unless he knew them. So you slowly slid the button over and accepted the call. 
“Hello?” you mumbled into the phone.
There was a beat of silence before a woman’s voice responded in kind, “Hello?”
“Um
” you swallowed down the apprehension that settled in your chest, casting a glance towards Simon’s back as he stood over the stove, “Who may I ask is calling?”
“I’m looking for Simon,” she said, sounding much more coy than a second ago. She knew his real name and that irked you. People from work always referred to him as Ghost, only those he considered trustworthy or friends were privy to calling him Simon. 
“Um, he’s busy at the moment, can I take a message?” you ask, loud enough for Simon to hear in the kitchen if he was interested in intervening. But he didn’t move. 
“Sure!” she giggled, “Tell him that Victoria really wants to see him again and to call me so we can!”
You swallowed around the lump in your throat, “Y-Yeah, sure. I’ll let him know
”
“Thank you,” she cooed in a sultry tone, “Oh! And tell him I really had a great time last time we were together and that I’m looking forward to a repeat performance.”
“Yeah. I’ll do that,” you assured, hoping you didn’t sound as tense as you felt. 
She giggled before the call disconnected and you were left glaring at his stupid stock phone wallpaper.
“Who was it?” Simon comes to the archway of the kitchen, leaning against the wall. You can’t hear anything cooking anymore so you assume he’s finished dinner.
“Victoria,” you spit the name out like it’s poisonous, “Says she wants to see you again and she had a fantastic time with you last time.”
Simon shifts where he stands, looking down at his feet before looking back up to you, “Alright. I’ll call her back later.”
That sends knives straight through your heart. It aches so badly that you want to bite your own tongue off to make it stop. 
Jealousy, you realize. You’re fucking jealous. Some girl calls and asks for his dick and he just says okay? 
He’s not yours, you tell yourself. He can fuck whoever he wants. 
But that does nothing to quell the inferno raging inside you. 
There’s other feelings brewing inside you; rejection, fear, loss.
You feel bitter that you’re right there and he would still never choose you. He’ll always choose someone else because he doesn’t see you like that. It feels like he’s throwing it in your face, just spitting at you to show you that he doesn’t love you like you love him. He never has and he never will. You’ll never be an option to him because he doesn’t want you.
Then you’re scared he’s going to leave you. He’s going to go to this Victoria chick and leave you all alone so he can get his dick wet again. Just like last time. Maybe he’ll like it so much he wants to stay with her. Maybe he’s going to leave you behind so he can start a new, happy life without having to worry about the dead weight that’s been dragging him down since he was 8. You. His responsibility. His problem. 
You’re so scared that he’s going to be ripped from your grasp. That you’re going to lose him to someone else and it’s going to be you and your pathetic one-sided love for the rest of your life. Fuck, you’ve loved him since you were 4. You’ve loved him for so long that it makes you nauseous to think about. How many people loved one person for this long? 
Please, you wanted to cry to him, please love me. 
Please, just love me back.
“So you’re gonna go then?’ you finally find your voice, bitterness and resentment thick in your tone, “You’re gonna leave me to go to a booty call again?”
He stands up straight at that. Arms cross over his chest, he watches that way you glare at him, heated and teary-eyed. Hurt. 
He knew you still weren’t over the way he left you that time – when you needed him the most. You’d been ignoring the residual hurt that lingered, intent on pretending that everything was fine. He had been doing his best to make up for it but it always felt like one step forward and two steps back with you. 
“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures softly, “I’ll call her back to tell her that it won’t happen.”
He tries his best to remain level-headed and soft, to be reassuring like he knows you need. But your expression doesn’t change. You continue to glare at him with that furious, hurt look in your eyes. 
Suddenly, you stand. 
“I don’t believe you,” you hiss, turning your back to him, storming down the hallway. 
He almost winces when he hears how hard you slam the bedroom door. He thinks about going back there to talk to you but decides against it. You need some space to calm yourself down. 
He eats the dinner he made for both of you alone, putting your half in the fridge for later. He goes about the apartment, locking the door and turning out all the lights. Then he gets to the bedroom door and goes to turn the knob and it doesn’t budge. 
Despite himself, he laughs. He jiggles the knob, jerks the door a little harder like it’ll open with a bit of force. And it might, it’s a flimsy ass door if he’s being honest – he’s forced bigger and heavier doors open before. 
He snaps your name, humor gone from his voice. You don’t answer. 
“Open the damn door,” he snaps, trying the knob again. He gets silence in return so he slams his fist against the surface. The sound is loud enough that it makes his own ears ring, “I said open the door. I’m not playin’ this game with you, sweetheart.”
“Sleep on the couch, Simon!” he hears your wobbly voice call back. Of course you’re in there crying, he thinks.
“I’m not sleepin’ on the fuckin’ couch,” he hisses, leaning his forearm against the door, resting his head against it with a sigh, “Open the door and let’s talk.”
“Don’t wanna talk to you,” you whine, bratty as all hell. He would have laughed if he wasn’t so damn pissed, “Why don’t you go sleep with Victoria since you like her so much.”
You don’t know why you say that last part. You don’t want him to go to her, you don’t want him to go anywhere. The thought of it brings more tears to your eyes. 
Simon is silent on the other side of the door for a long while. You almost think he walked away and succumbed to the couch. You wouldn’t actually let him sleep on that awful thing, of course. You just
you don’t know what the end goal here is, if you’re honest.
“Fine,” he finally spits, “If that’s what you want, I’ll fuck off and find Victoria.”
You hear the floorboards creak under his weight as he walks away. You sit up straight in bed at that, eyes wide as you listen to him stalk through the house. You swear you hear the jingle of his keys and that’s what has you lurching out of bed in a panic.
You almost trip over the sheets as they tangle around your legs but you manage to free yourself and wrench the door open.
“Simon!” you practically shriek, rounding the corner of the hallway to find him standing with his back to you, facing the door.
He’s got his hoodie and mask on, boots firmly on his feet and keys in hand. He stands still, back straight as his shoulders rise and fall with his breathing. But he waits.
“Don’t go,” you find yourself whimpering, “‘M sorry. Come to bed, okay?”
He doesn’t move and that makes your heart pound in your chest. You know he’s pissed, can see it in the way his fists stay clenched at his sides. His fingers twitch and he makes a move for the doorknob and you surge forward, wrapping yourself around his other arm, yanking him away from the door as hard as you can. 
He lets your weight knock him off balance, lets you drag him away from the door. He lets you tug him down the hallway, sniffling and crying as you do. 
“J-Just
” you find yourself frantically tugging his mask off, tossing it away before you rip the hem of his hoodie up. He doesn’t help you or fight you as you try to take it off of him. He just stares blankly at you, like he’s assessing you. You hate it. “G-Get ready for bed, okay? Just
we can go to sleep.”
“Why do you make this so fuckin’ hard for me?” he finally breaks his silence, the question cold and calculating. Like he’s tired. Exhausted, “I keep tryin’ to make it up to you. But every time something goes wrong, you throw everything back in my face and you act like you hate me again. I can’t keep
” he trails off, shaking his head before he sits at the foot of the bed, hands clasped together and head hanging between his shoulders.
“I love you,” you blurt out, a sob breaking out of your lips as you do. Simon doesn’t move. Your hands cover your eyes, as if being blind to his reaction will make the rejection hurt less, “I love you and i-it just keeps messing me up inside. I’m sorry.”
“You love me?” he asks, still no emotion in his voice. 
When you peek at him, he’s in the same position as before, hands clasped, elbows on his knees, head bowed. You have no idea what expression he’s wearing and you’re scared to find out.
“Yes,” you hiccup, sniffling softly, “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing?” he asks softly, almost solemnly.
“I promised,” you cry, another choked sob escaping you. 
“Promised..?” he doesn’t sound cold anymore, just confused, “The fuck’re you talkin’ about?”
“W-When I was 14,” you whimper, shame filling you as you recall your now-broken promise, “I-I told you I liked you and you said you didn’t feel the same. You told me to never bring it up again and I promised I wouldn’t. B-But
” you sobbed again, stopping yourself from finishing the sentence.
“Fuckin’ hell
” he breathes, bringing his hands to his face, scrubbing them up and down vigorously in a way that looks like it hurts. Then he laughs. 
He fucking laughs. 
It’s like your worst fears come to light. He’s laughing at you, at your confession. At your feelings. A fresh wave of tears fill your eyes and fall down your cheeks. You bite your lips to keep from making your sobs audible anymore. You didn’t want him to laugh at that too. You hang your head, wringing your hands together behind your back anxiously as Simon quiets down. 
“Shit,” he breathes, getting to his feet. He stands before you, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. He frowns when he sees the utter despair on your face, the heartbreak in your eyes, “No, baby. No, no. I wasn’t laughin’ at you.”
Baby. You catch onto it. He’s never called you that before. 
You dash the spark of hope that it causes. 
He rubs his thumbs under your eyes, wiping the tears away. 
Then, he leans forward and slots his lips against yours. 
It’s like fireworks explode in your chest. Your heart races so fast that you feel lightheaded. You can’t even respond to the kiss in time before he pulls away, your mind is moving too fast for you to process any meaningful thought. But he kissed you. 
Simon kissed you.
“What?” you finally manage to whisper, looking up with wide, shocked eyes, “Why did you..?”
He looks confused for a second, still cupping your cheeks as he looks into your watery eyes, “You really have no idea?” Your brows furrow immediately and you shake your head, “How I feel about you?”
“You feel..?” you dumbly repeat. 
He smiles softly, thumb rubbing softly over your cheekbone, “You really think I don’t feel the same?”
“B-But when
when we were kids I
” you stumble over your words, the truth you’ve believed this entire time seemingly false, “You s-said you didn’t feel the same.”
“Jesus, love,” he huffs softly in disbelief, “You were fourteen. I was seventeen. You were way too fuckin’ young for me, it wouldn’t have been right.”
“B-But then
” you stutter, reaching up to wipe your cheek, “When did you..?”
He shrugs, “Not sure exactly. Suppose sometime after you turned 20 was when I realized I felt somethin’ for you.”
“So you really
” you whisper, snagging your hands into his hoodie to pull him close, “You really
I mean
”
“Love you?” he smiles softly, “Of course I do.”
You lean forward and press your lips to his. He hums, wrapping one strong arm around your middle to pull you even closer. His lips work magically over yours, taking control of the kiss with ease. You easily melt into it, following his lead. It’s not as easy as you thought it would be and you hope Simon doesn’t notice. 
But he does, of course he does. 
He pulls away and smooths the palm of his hand down your cheek before it comes to rest on your jaw. His thumb slides over your bottom lip and he hums.
“You ever kissed before?” he asks, voice calm and level with no teasing to it at all.
Still, heat explodes all over your face. Embarrassment overrides the euphoria of your requited feelings. You try to pull away but Simon’s much stronger and he won’t let go unless he wants to. 
“Hey, don’t run,” he coos softly, turning your face to look back up at him, “I was just askin’.”
“No,” you mumble, still burning with embarrassment, “I-I’ve only ever liked you so
”
“Fuckin’ hell
” he whispers, letting you step back just a bit so he can look over you, “Is that right?”
“You should know that,” you mumble, feeling small under his scrutiny, “You know everything about me.”
“Didn’t think datin’ history was somethin’ you felt like sharin’,” he shrugged off.
“Well, now you know,” you mutter, your gaze glued to the floor.
“That I do,” he hums in agreement, reaching out to brush a hand down the length of your arm. 
A soft, quietness falls over the two of you. You’re not sure what to do and it seems he’s content where he is. He’s watching you, tracking every little shift and fidget you make until he finally seems to take pity on you.
“Let’s get to bed,” he says softly, giving you a soft nudge towards the bed. 
You take the opportunity to dive into bed, yanking the blanket over you as Simon strips himself out of his boots and hoodie. You go to look away as he yanks his belt free with practiced hands but you can’t seem to. He slips the belt out of the loops and drops it on the dresser before unbuttoning his jeans and slipping them off. 
Your mouth waters at the sight of him in a tight pair of navy boxer-briefs slung low on his hips. You can make out the shape of his–
“Enjoyin’ the view?” he mumbles half-heartedly as he turns to root through the dresser to find some sweatpants. 
“Sorry
” you mutter shamefully at being caught. 
He chuckles under his breath, pulling the sweats on before he rounds to his side of the bed and drops onto the mattress, “Nothin’ to be sorry about.”
He leans over you and turns out the tableside lamp. Then he settles into his pillow with a soft sigh.
“Si..?” you whisper.
“Yeah?” you can hear the smile in his voice.
“Are we um
” you clear your throat, “I mean like
are we
together now..?”
You feel him roll over and toss his arms around you. You squeak when he tugs you towards him roughly, securing you against his chest before he kisses the top of your head.
“Do you want to be together?” he asks, muffled by his lips pressed against you. 
“Yes,” you whisper quickly, wrapping yourself around him almost possessively.
He tilts your head up and carefully slots his mouth over yours again. You sigh happily at the feeling. 
You notice that he keeps it a lot slower than he had before, moving his lips carefully against yours. Like he’s trying to make it easier for you to keep up. It makes your cheeks flush again but you sink into the pillow and let him kiss all he wants as you do your best to match his movements. 
His body shifts, torso hovering over you as he rests his weight on his elbows on either side of your head. Your hands rest against his shoulders and simply get lost in the kiss. 
After a moment, he deepens the kiss, sinking into you with his chest pressed against yours. You whimper and wrap your arms around his neck, carding your fingers through his cropped hair. 
One of his hands moves, coming to grip your waist, fingers sliding up the hem of your shirt. It’s like a dream come true. Literally. 
All those nights you spent with your hand between your thighs, thinking of him. Thinking of him touching you like this – with his hand sliding your shirt up a little further every second. You even feel that familiar wetness soaking your panties.
Then why was your heart racing from anxiety instead of excitement? Why did you feel a fearful tremble setting in your thighs, as if your knees would be knocking together if you were standing. Why were you scared?
Before you can stop yourself, you’re shoving your hands against his chest with a weak, “No!”
Simon is off of you in seconds but you can feel his gaze on you in the darkness. You struggle to catch your breath as you lay there, heart pounding in your ears. Your head hurts, you realize with a wince.
“Um
” you find yourself attempting to appease him, “I-I don’t
I’m sorry, I
”
“It’s alright,” he whispers sincerely, settling down into bed with a content hum, “Nothin’ to worry about, love.”
You scoot closer to him and hesitantly place your head on his chest. Simon’s arm wraps around your back and tucks you even more snug against him. You close your eyes and will yourself to relax and sleep as you feel Simon’s comforting hand rubbing your back. 
Neither of you talk about it in the morning. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. You don’t bring it up, even though you want to, and Simon doesn’t try touching you like that again. Part of you wants him to, you’ve been dreaming about his touch for years but once you finally get it, you freak out?
You can’t stop beating yourself up over it. 
But then you think about the anxiety that it had caused. The apprehension. How uncomfortable it felt – how you wanted his hands off of you. 
You sighed, flopping onto your side on the couch where you sat. Your mind was buzzing annoyingly from your thoughts. 
Regardless of your problems, you were happier than ever with him. He was finally yours. Wholly and truly yours. It was bliss. 
“Got a call,” Simon says, snapping you out of your daze, “Gotta leave.”
That makes you sit up, “Leave?”
You finally notice that he’s got his bag packed – the one he only takes when he’s getting deployed. You’re on your feet in seconds, following him to the door. He’s wearing his skull balaclava so all you can see are his eyes – sad, apologetic.
“H-How long?” you ask, unable to ignore the ache in your chest as you watch him.
“Few weeks, probably,” he mutters, placing the bag down so he can tuck his feet into his boots.
He straightens up with a grunt before turning to you. He sighs, gloved hands cupping your cheeks when he sees how sad you look – like a kicked puppy. You wish you could feel his bare hands on you but can’t find it in you to ask. 
“I don’t want you to go,” you find yourself mumbling.
It’s selfish and even a bit cruel of you to voice that desire. Simon’s thumb strokes your cheek in that sweet way he always does and you melt into him. He lets you thump your head against his chest as you suppress your cries, biting your lip so you can keep your tears at bay. 
“I know,” he softly whispers, stroking your back as you cling to him, “I know, but I have to.”
“I know,” you mumble, finally looking up at him. You know your eyes are glassy and you make sure to blink back the tears so they never overflow, “Just be safe and come home, okay?”
He lifts his mask up just enough to expose his lips before he leans down to kiss you. It’s a whole body experience this time. He clutches you against him like his life depends on it, gloved hands fiercely gripping the back of your t-shirt. His lips move smoothly against yours, hand coming up to cup your jaw so he can tilt your head and pull you even deeper into his kiss. He pulls away when he needs to breathe, smiling when he sees the dazed, lovesick expression on your face. He tugs his mask down and lets you go but you stay as close to him as possible. 
“Make sure you stay warm,” he coos, “Gonna start gettin’ real cold in a couple days.”
“I will, Si,” you assure him.
“Left some cash for you to do your shoppin’,” he adds, “I know you’re a shit cook but I left a list of some easy recipes. Don’t burn the flat down.”
You snort and playfully smack his shoulder, “I’ll just buy some cup noodles in that case.”
He rolls his eyes, pinching your side to make you gasp from the ticklish feeling, “Don’t even think about it.”
Your grin falters when his phone makes that obnoxious beeping noise that lets you know it’s something urgent. He sighs, the tranquil happiness between you two broken immediately. He kisses your forehead through his mask and pulls the front door open.
“Keep this locked,” he mutters, stepping past the threshold, “I’ll be home soon.”
He closes the door and you’re left with an emptiness that overcomes you. You’ve always been scared for him when he has to go off on missions – you know that his job is extremely dangerous and he could lose his life at any moment. That thought alone makes a nauseous pit settle in your stomach. You push down the feeling of bile rising in the back of your throat and click the lock on the door with a sigh before you go about your day, trying your best to keep your mind off of him and where he might be in the world. 
True to his word, however, the temperature drops bitterly cold within 2 days after he leaves. There had already been a chill in the air that drove you to turn the heating on just a bit but now it was full blast. But now, it was dipping to freezing and you were anticipating the arrival of snow soon enough as well. 
You wake up one morning, however, and your apartment is bitterly cold. You sit up, confused before climbing out of bed. Your feet are immediately freezing as you step onto the floor. You hiss, wrapping your arms around yourself as you stumble over to the radiator in your room. You touch it and find absolutely no heat emanating from it. 
All the radiators are the same. Absolutely no heat. 
You curse, realizing you have no idea what you’re supposed to do. You curl up on the couch under a heavy throw blanket as you type with bitterly cold fingers into Google, looking for anything that can help you. But it’s to no avail. You can’t understand a thing. 
Your next thought is to call the building manager but you know that’s pointless. The useless man never actually helps with any work for his tenants. 
There’s no way in hell that you can afford to call someone to come and fix the problem. You have money for groceries but if you spent that you wouldn’t have anything to eat. You sigh, resolving yourself to bundling up and trying to stay as warm as you can. 
You pile all the blankets you have into bed and pick out only your thickest, warmest sweaters. 
This is going to be miserable, you think. 
The snow comes just a short week later and it feels even colder. You venture out of your flat to go to the grocery store, picking up ingredients for the dishes Simon wrote down for you and also some cans of soup that you can cook to stay warm. You also throw some boxes of tea and some hot chocolate in with it, figuring why not. Warm drinks will help. 
It’s almost 3 weeks of living like that. It’s miserable and makes your bones ache from how stiff the cold makes you feel. You make sure to eat nice, hot food to keep yourself warm and make frequent cups of warm drinks so you can keep your hands warm for as long as you can. You do your best. 
The worst is showers, though. When you’re standing under the blisteringly hot spray, it’s bliss. But the second you step out and your wet body is hit with the freezing air, you couldn’t have felt more miserable. 
The night Simon walks through the door, he finds you bundled up on the couch sipping a cup of hot chocolate. 
“Simon!” you gasp excitedly, tossing the blankets off to take a running leap at him. 
He huffs contentedly when he catches you in his arms, letting you embrace him for as long as you need. He strips his mask off and brings you in for a delicate kiss.
“Let me wash up,” he mumbles, stalking through the apartment.
“Um, before you do, Si,” you catch him at the entrance to the hallway. He turns to you and looks at you with a brow raised, “The um
heating is broken so
just letting you know when you come out of the shower it’s gonna suck.”
“Ain’t nothin’ I haven’t dealt with before,” he mutters and pauses, “The fuck you mean it’s broken?”
“Heating cut off a few weeks ago
” you shrug, wrapping your arms around yourself as you start to feel the cold creep in again.
“A few weeks ago?” he hisses, running a stressed hand through his hair, “Fuckin’ hell. You didn’t call someone to fix it?”
You pout as he raises his voice, clearly frustrated, “I couldn’t afford it, Si! I had the money you gave me for food but I wasn’t gonna spend that to get the heating fixed. You know the building manager is a piece of shit, not like he was gonna call someone.”
He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, seemingly thinking something over. Then he turns on his heel and storms into the bathroom, slamming the door.
“I’m sorry, Simon!” you call through the door, “I didn’t know what else to do! Please, don’t be mad.”
The shower turns on and all you can do is look up and sigh in exasperation. The second he’s home and he’s already pissed at you. 
You sulk over to the couch and flop down, tossing your blankets over you as you grab your mug. The hot chocolate is still warm but not as hot as it was. It’ll have to do.
Simon comes out of the shower, gets dressed warmly, and joins you in the living room. He doesn’t even look at you as he makes a move for his bag that he left by the door. You almost think he’s going to scoop the bag up and storm out the door. You sit up, ready to stop him but instead, he stoops down and zips it open. He pulls out his wallet and approaches you. 
“What are you doing?” you mumble, watching him flip the thing open.
It’s old and worn, a simple black leather wallet. He’s had it for as long as you could remember and you’ve put the poor thing through the washer and dryer so many times that you’re shocked it's still intact. 
He pulls out a bank card and promptly hands it to you. Your brain stutters to a stop as you look at it.
“Take it, fuck sake,” he mutters. He sounds annoyed but the way he looks away and his ears turn pink you can tell he’s
shy. 
Simon Riley is fucking shy right now.
You take the bank card out of his hand and look at it, flipping over in your hands, “Why are you giving this to me?”
“So you can use it,” he mumbles, slamming his wallet shut and tossing it onto the table, “That way, in case anything happens you can withdraw from my account for what you need. If an emergency happens and I’m not around, use it.”
“Simon
” you mumble, looking up at him, “Are you sure..?”
“Course I’m sure,” he scoffs, taking a seat beside you before softly rattling off four digits.
“Huh?” you dumbly ask.
“It’s my pin,” he responds, grabbing one of the blankets you have piled on the couch and tossing it on his lap.
“That’s my birthday
” you say softly as you repeat the numbers over and over in your head, “Your bank pin is my birthday?”
He snatches the remote up from the table and turns the TV on without another word. But you can see how pink the tips of his ears are. It makes you beam and before you know it, you’re curling snugly into his side. 
“Love you, Si,” you whisper, earning a kiss to the top of your head in response.
Simon calls the next morning to have someone come by and fix the damn heating. You listen to the man rattle off some information to Simon about what the problem was but it makes virtually no sense to you so you resolve yourself to sitting on the couch and waiting until it’s warm again. 
But even when it’s nice and toasty inside, you still plaster yourself to Simon’s side, snuggling as close to him as you possibly can.
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“I want you to meet my team,” Simon says one morning while he’s making some eggs. 
You’re standing by the toaster, waiting for it to pop up but his words make you turn to him, “You mean 141?”
“Who else?” he huffs, flipping one of the eggs. It sizzles loudly in the pan, “They wanted me to go out with them tonight. Thought you could join us.”
“Really?” you realize how incredulous you sound and then try again, “I mean really? That’s okay with you?”
He nods, plating the eggs, “I think it’s time they met you.”
“I-I’d love to,” you say, unable to hide the excitement you feel. 
You catch a slip of a smile on Simon’s face before the toast pops up and distracts you. 
You have to dig into your closet that evening, after a shower, to find something nice to wear. You figure an occasion like this calls for something a little nicer than just jeans and a t-shirt like you usually wear. But you can’t find much of anything. 
“What’re you huffin’ about in  here?” Simon asks when he walks in, towel wrapped around his waist. He’s still dripping wet from the shower and you can feel the way your mouth fills with saliva at the sight. 
“I uh
don’t know what to wear
” you respond, turning your back to him just as he slips the towel off. Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, imagining Simon completely naked behind you.
“Wear those nice jeans you got,” he mumbles, grunting as he gets himself dressed, “And that little blue top you got.”
“The cropped one?” you ask incredulously, a brow raised as you turn to him. He’s got some jeans on now and he’s meticulously unfolding a black t-shirt so he can put it on, “I haven’t worn that in a while, how’d you even remember it?”
He shrugs, the muscles in his back rippling with his movement before he tosses the shirt over his head and pulls it down, covering his skin once again, “It’s cute. We’re just goin’ to the pub, love.”
“Okay,” you mumble, reaching into the back of your closet to pull the little shirt out, “If you’re sure this will be okay.”
“I’m sure,” he chuckles softly, grabbing his balaclava off the dresser. But he doesn’t put it on yet. Instead, he sits on the bed and watches you change.
You’re acutely aware of his eyes on you as you strip your shirt off. You keep your back to him, trying to ignore your racing heart. You don’t feel uncomfortable at all, instead you feel
excited. 
Your mind runs wild, imagining him stepping up behind you, kissing your neck and cupping your bare breasts in his big hands. They’re a little rough from his line of work and you wonder what they’d feel like against the sensitive skin of your tits, thumbing your nipples and pinching them a little meanly. 
“C-Can you hand me a bra?” you find yourself asking.
He grunts in acknowledgement and the bed creaks when his weight moves off it. He opens one of the drawers and is behind you in a second. His body heat permeates through his shirt as he presses his chest against your back. 
He slings your bra over your shoulder, holding it with one finger by the strap. You can’t help but tilt your head back to look up at him. He’s towering over you, pretty, brown eyes looking down his nose at you. 
You realize in this position, he could clearly see your breasts but he keeps his eyes on yours. You take the bra from him and he lets you, simply staring into your eyes with that stern silence he has about him.
“T-Thanks
” you find yourself whispering, mouth feeling particularly dry.
He grunts, lips quirked up just a bit before he turns his back and walks back to the bed. You let out a quiet, slow breath, willing your heart rate to go back to normal.
Simon was so exhilarating. Just being around him sets your heart racing and fingers trembling. 
You put your bra on and slip your top over your head, ignoring the sticky feeling in your panties as you do. 
“I don’t know, Si,” you mutter, turning to face him, “I-It’s a little tight on me now.”
The fabric once hugged you nicely but now it was snug. It molded around your breasts, even showing the lines of your bra. The neckline was low, giving a good show of cleavage – it didn’t help that Simon picked one of your more well padded bras. 
Simon looks up, his eyes immediately falling to your breasts. He sucks in a quick breath and looks away, licking his lips.
“Looks fine,” he mutters, standing to pull one of the drawers open again. He searches for a second, brows furrowed until he pulls out the jeans he was talking about. The ‘nice jeans’ as he called them, were just some low rise jeans you’d only worn about 4 times.
You look dumbly at them as he drops them into your hands.
“These?” you scoff, “Simon, I can’t–”
He quiets you with a kiss to your forehead, “Trust me, love.”
He steps out of the room after that, leaving you to your own devices. You’re thankful that you can change your panties without him seeing how saturated and sticky they’ve become because of him. You bury them in the laundry basket and remind yourself that you should do the laundry before he does because you’d be mortified if he found them. 
You don’t even look at yourself in the mirror, afraid you’ll feel too self-conscious if you see what you look like. But you trust Simon’s judgment on what he thinks would look good on you – and you can’t deny that dressing up how he likes feels nice. 
You step into the living room, intent on pulling your shoes on when Simon catches you with an arm around your waist. You gasp as he turns you to face him.
“You look lovely,” he whispers, smoothing his hands up your sides, thumbs slipping under the hem of your shirt to stroke your skin.
You swallow thickly as your heart starts racing in your chest again. He leans down and pecks your lips but pulls back before you have the chance to kiss back. 
“Let’s go,” is all he adds before walking away, leaving you no choice but to follow like the lovesick puppy you are. 
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Walking into the bar, your heart pounds painfully in your chest from pure anxiety. Your hand is clasped tightly in Simon’s as he easily moves through the crowd. You suppose his height makes it easy to see over people. 
“You alright?” he asks, leaning down to whisper in your ear.
“Haven’t been in a bar since I worked at
” you trail off, giving him a half-hearted shrug.
“If you wanna leave, just say the word,” he mutters, giving your hand a squeeze.
“N-No,” you shake your head, shooting him a wobbly smile,”I wanna meet your team at least.”
He smiles reassuringly and gives your hand a tug to encourage you to follow him. He leads you right to a table situated in a corner, three men laughing and drinking. 
“There he is!” the one with the mohawk cheeks, holding up his pint in celebration.
“Shut up, Soap,” Simon grumbles petulantly as he pulls out a chair for you.
Soap, you note to yourself. You know them by name but you’ve never actually seen the faces to put to them. Soap looks like you imagined, a broad grin and pretty, bright eyes – you imagined them green but they’re blue. 
“And who is this lovely companion of yours, Simon?” an older man with a hat and mutton chops asks with a kind smile, eyes on you.
Simon says your name before he sits down with a grunt beside you.
“Price,” your boyfriend supplies when you look curiously at him.
The man in question holds out a hand which you take and softly shake, “Nice to meet you.”
“Had no idea Lt. had someone waitin’ for him at home,” Soap says, a teasing lilt in his voice. 
So you’ve met Soap, Price, and that leaves; your eyes land on the quiet guy sitting back in his chair, a cool smile on his lips. He meets your gaze and his smile broadens – not teasing like Soap’s but purely kind.
“You can call me Kyle,” he gives you a polite nod.
“Gaz, then?” you question, tilting your head to the side. Kyle looks surprised, eyes flicking to Simon who shifts uncomfortably in his chair, “He’s talked about all of you before. I only know your call signs though.”
“John will do fine if you’d like,” Price says, tipping his beer back to take a chug.
“Simon calls me Johnny,” Soap adds, “You’re welcome to as well. Anyone important to the Lieutenant is important to us.”
Out of the corner of your eye you see Simon roll his eyes. It makes you smile. He leans over, nudging you with his knee, “You want anything to drink? I need one.”
“No thank you, Si,” you reply, intent on having a clear head for the night. You’ve never been much of a drinker anyway. 
When Simon’s gone from the table, you suddenly feel incredibly out of place. Price and Kyle have the decency to not stare you down but Soap seems keen on keeping his baby blue’s right on you and a goofy little smile on his face.
“Um
” you shift uncomfortably as you look back at him.
“We’ve never gotten to meet anyone from Ghost’s private life before,” Soap says, saving you from having to think of what to say, “Just shocked s’all.” 
“You’re gonna start giving the poor thing the creeps with your ugly mug,” Kyle chuckles which also makes Soap laugh.
“Sorry about that,” Soap lifts his glass and cheers to you before tipping it back. 
He grimaces slightly as it goes down before slamming his glass back on the table.
“It’s alright,” you respond, “Si’s not really the open book kind. So I understand.”
“How long have the two of you known each other?” Kyle asks.
You find yourself wondering where the hell Simon even is but answer regardless, “Since we were kids. Um, we lived next door. His mom and mine were friends, I guess.”
Soap nods his head, elbows on the table as he gives you his full attention, “You guess?”
You hum, “I’m 3 years younger than Simon. The way it was told to me by my mom is that
his mom came over and,” you couldn’t fight back the smile as you recalled the story.
“Oh this has got to be good,” Soap nudged Kyle excitedly at your grin.
“Told my mom that Simon didn’t have any friends and that he was a
soft-hearted boy and she wanted him to have some friends,” you giggle, holding a hand in front of your face to hide your laughter, “So she wanted to set up playdates with me even though I was still a baby. My mom didn’t have the heart to tell her no.”
Soap tosses his head back and laughs, “No fuckin’ way.”
“I’m shocked to say it but that actually makes him sound cute,” Kyle adds, unable to hide the laughter in his voice either.
“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Price says, but there’s a smile on his face, “Simon’ll knock you out cold on this table.”
“So you and Simon have been together since?” Kyle asks, glass cupped in both hands.
You nod, “Only time we’ve been apart is when he enlisted and had to go off for a few years to train.”
Soap opens his mouth to say something but a large figure finally drops down into the seat next to you. Simon has a glass of bourbon and a glass that he slides over to Soap who catches it with ease.
“Thanks, Lt,” he nods, taking a sip before making that disgusted face again.
“What are you lot talkin’ about?” Simon asks, drumming his fingers against his glass.
“We were discussin’ all your dirty secrets,” Kyle teases with a charming grin.
“Nothin’ too damning I hope,” Simon huffs before he takes a large gulp of his drink. 
The other three men all hide their grins behind their glasses. 
The anxiety you had felt at the beginning of the night is long gone. The task force is full of jokes and laughs and even Simon seems like a different person. 
With you, he’s kind and even soft. He’s by no means gentle or patient. 
But this side of Simon is so jovial and comfortable that it warms your heart to see. He drinks a few glasses and by the end of the night, he’s got a relaxed, lidded look in his eyes that lets you know he’s got a bit of a buzz going on. 
“It was lovely to meet you,” Price says when you all walk out of the bar.
“I really enjoyed meeting all of you as well,” you smile, letting Simon tuck you into his side with an arm wrapped around your waist.
“Get him home safe,” Soap teases, your smile only widening when you hear Simon huff in annoyance. 
You bid goodbye to the three of them and make your way to the car with Simon, plucking his keys out of his hand and forcing him into the passenger seat despite his grumbled protests of how ‘he’s not that drunk’.
When the two of you finally get into your apartment, you let him lock up and turn out the lights while you go to the bedroom and get ready for bed. 
“You looked really nice tonight,” Simon mutters when he finally walks in as you crawl into bed, “I’m glad you liked them.”
“I’m glad they liked me,” you huff, leaning back into the pillows, “They were all really nice guys.”
“Yeah,” Simon hums, tugging his shirt off of his head, taking his mask with it, “They’re good people.”
You nod your head and tuck your knees to your chest while he gets undressed. He slips on a plaid pair of pajama pants and shoves the drawer closed with his hip before yanking the blanket back to make room for his large body. 
You bounce a little on the bed when he drops his weight onto it. He smacks his pillow a couple times before he lays back and sighs. It’s clear he’s still a little buzzed from the way he fights to keep his eyes open.
“Simon?” you ask, turning to face him. 
That makes his eyes open back up before he looks at you, “What?”
“Can I kiss you?” you ask. 
He snorts and it makes you smile. He reaches out and wraps his hand around the back of your head. You let him tug you down, pressing your hands against his firm chest as you kiss him. 
His hand travels down your back as he sighs into your mouth. You pull away briefly to look into his eyes before you kiss him again, this time deepening it as much as you’re able. Simon sighs contentedly, his other hand coming up to caress your arm. 
“I like kissin’ you
” you find yourself whispering against his lips.
He groans at that, the sound going straight to your core. You feel yourself clench around nothing, already starting to leak into your panties. 
“Yeah?” he coos, cupping your cheek, thumbing over your lips, “You can kiss me all you want, love.”
You whimper, surging down to kiss him again. His hands grip your waist, intermittently squeezing you, like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. 
Suddenly, you feel the warm, slick slide of his tongue against your lips. You whimper and pull back, brows furrowed.
“Shh, love,” he coos, pulling you close again, “Jus’ relax and let me
”
You huff, struggling to catch your breath as he urges you to meet his lips again. You feel his tongue again and eagerly open your mouth, letting him taste the inside of your mouth. You shyly meet his tongue with yours and feel his grip on your waist tighten as he groans in his throat. 
You’re sure you’ve soaked well through your panties by now. There’s an ache in your clit that you long to reach down and relieve – or better yet, have Simon relieve. 
You bet his fingers would feel so damn good against you. You find yourself whimpering into the kiss at the thought alone. Simon lets out a husky laugh into your mouth before pulling away. 
A string of spit connects your lips before it breaks and vanishes. 
With a surge of confidence, you toss your leg over his waist. He grunts when your weight settles on his hips, on his cock. It’s chubbed up against his thigh from kissing you and he knows you can feel it. 
“What’re you doin’, baby?” he huffs, unable to stop his hands from traveling up the front of your body. 
You grab his wrist and boldly slide it under the hem of your shirt. He bites his lip to keep from moaning when he feels your bare breast fill his palm. You see the way his eyes start to roll back before he looks at you again. It makes you throb in your panties and you can’t resist grinding against him a little before he grabs your waist and stops you.
“Si
” you whimper, pressing your hands against his chest, “‘S wrong?”
“Can’t,” he clears his throat and sinks into the bed, “Can’t do this, love.”
“Why not?” you ask, feeling a pit of disappointment in your gut, “You don’t want to? I just thought
”
You feel your face burn with humiliation as you slide off of his lap. Simon lets you, simply laying there on his back, eyes closed and a knit between his brows, as he evens his breathing out. You fight back tears as you sit there, biting the inside of your lip anxiously. 
“Not
not tonight, sweetheart,” he finally says, reaching over to pet your hair, “Been drinkin’ ‘nd I want to be sober for it, yeah?”
It would have been a solid excuse if it didn’t sound so flimsy coming from his lips. Like he doesn’t even believe it himself. 
“Yeah
” you offer, giving him a wobbly smile before turning out the light. 
You’re too embarrassed to cuddle into him that night. 
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“Can I ask you something?” you find yourself muttering as you relax on the couch with him, watching some old movie he picked out, “As long as you promise not to get mad.”
He snorts, taking a sip of his tea, “Won’t get mad.”
“I just want to know
” you clear your throat and sit up straight a little more, going over the question in your head, “Why did you leave that night
leave like that, just to have sex?”
He tenses up immediately, you can feel it. He shifts where he sits, spreading his legs just a little wider so he can sink deeper into the couch, “We already talked about this.”
You wince at his clipped tone, knowing you’re stepping into dangerous territory, “I know but
I want to know the real reason.”
He catches his bottom lip between his teeth and sighs, keeping his eyes trained on the TV, “You think I was lyin’ to you?”
Now he sounds mad. You quickly shake your head, “No, Si. I-I’m not trying to start a fight, I swear. I don’t think you were lying. I just think you
weren’t telling me everything.”
He sighs. You can see the way his jaw ticks when he clenches it, “Is that right?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, scooting a little closer to him, placing your hands on his chest, smoothing his shirt down a bit, “It was just
out of character for you, Si. I was really upset and you knew that. It wasn’t like you to just
leave. Just to get laid.”
He finally looks at you, just out of the corner of his eye. You meet the look, offering him an encouraging smile to show that you’re not upset or anything. 
“All night,” he finally mutters, “You’d been kickin’ in your sleep. Kept wakin’ me up.”
You nodded, a look of confusion on your face. You had no idea where this was going.
“You started sayin’ my name,'' he continued, “Moanin’ my name. Fuck, it was drivin’ me crazy.”
Your face flushes hot when you hear that. It all suddenly comes rushing back to you – what you’d been dreaming about. 
“You threw your leg over mine and I could–” he cuts himself off, his throat moving with how hard he swallows.
“Could what?” your voice comes out shockingly breathy. 
He catches it, looking at you. You can see the way his pupils widen immediately when he meets your gaze. It’s like he can see right through you, see the fact you’re dripping into your panties again. Just from this conversation alone. 
“I could feel how fuckin’ wet you were,” he brings a shaky hand up and runs it through his hair before he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “Couldn’t fuckin’ deal with it. I had to
let it out somehow.”
“So you knew that I wanted you
like that?” you find yourself asking.
He scoffs and shakes his head, “Didn’t think about it like that. Figured it was just a dream and that’s all it was.”
“Wasn’t just a dream,” you assure, scooting closer to him.
Simon’s breath catches in his throat when you lean over him, resting your hand on the arm rest on his other side, letting it support your weight. You stand on your knees, making you just a little taller than him before you lean down and kiss him. 
He remains completely still, like he’s processing. His hands flounder in the air for a second before he’s carefully pushing you to sit back down. You slump against your heels and look at him, perturbed.
“Why..?”
“I need to make dinner,” he says lamely. 
“Simon
” you admonish, knowing he’s lying. 
He gets up, knees cracking as he does. He winces a little bit before he bends down to pick up the blanket that fell to the floor when he stood. You kept your eyes on him, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. You almost let him go but before you can stop him, you grab his arm. 
“I don’t know what I’m doing, Simon,” you mutter, “I keep trying to make things go further with you but I just keep making a fool of myself and I–”
“‘S not you,” he assures softly, taking your hand in his, “‘S all me, baby.”
“So why
” you frown, “I want you.”
He shakes his head, “Night you told me how you felt. You sounded scared.” 
You remember, the way his touch had made anxiety fill you. You had wanted him, of course, but for some reason it had just been so damn awful at the same time. You hadn’t really dwelled on why that was. 
“It wasn’t ‘cause of you, Si,” you assured, shifting so your feet were on the floor rather than under you, “I promise. I-I was just nervous, I think. That’s all.”
“I don’t want
” he licks his lips, seemingly thinking over his next words carefully before he says them slowly, “I don’t to hear you sound like that with me again. ‘S why I’ve been avoidin’ it. ‘Cause I don’t want you to get scared again.”
You shake your head, rising to your feet, stepping in front of him. You take his hands in yours and squeeze them, “I don’t want to make a fool of myself with you, Simon.”
He frowns, “You know I would never think poorly of you.”
You smile and shrug, “I know that. I think
that time was just
too soon. After that night at the bar and everything that happened. And then the fact I’m so inexperienced that it’s laughable. I think
I just wasn’t ready for it. I needed to go at my own pace and I have been.”
“I don’t want you to push yourself,” he hums, “I know that night at the bar was terrifying,” he brings a hand up to brush over your cheek, “I understand if you’re not goin’ to be ready for a long time. It’s normal to not be ready after what happened to you.”
You huff, “I’ve been trying to show you that I’ve been ready for a while now, Si. I was anxious at first, yes. But now it’s
like a good kind of nervous.”
“A good kind of nervous?” he mutters, hands moving to your hips to pull you closer. Your breath hitches in your throat and you nod dumbly, “Tell me all about it.”
“L-Like my heart races,” you breathe, “And I feel scared that I’m gonna do something silly and embarrassing but like I want to learn and
and I want to do good for you.”
“Fuck,” Simon groans, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder, “Can’t say shit like that to a man like me, love.”
“Why not?” you whimper, feeling your knees tremble in excitement when you feel his hands start to wander.
“‘Cause
” he whispers, running his hands up your sides, “Makes me think some nasty shit, sweetheart.”
You swallow thickly at the promise in his voice, “Simon
” 
You sound so wrecked already and it makes him moan softly in your ear, “Tell me about it, baby.”
Just like that, you’re spilling your guts to him, “Get so wet for you, Si, all the time. I want you so bad that it hurts.”
“Yeah?” he breathes, finally pulling his head from where he was hiding in your shoulder, tilting your chin up, “Where’s it hurt, baby? Hm? Right in that needy little cunt?”
You whimper immediately, looking up at him with wide, hazy eyes and nod, “T-Tried to touch myself. Thinkin’ about you made it hurt so I couldn’t help myself. Thought about you when I did.”
He hums as you babble to him but his mind latches onto one particular word, “Tried, baby? What do you mean "tried?”
Your cheeks burn hot at the slip up. Would he think you were silly for it?
“C-Can’t do it right,” you confess softly, hoping he doesn’t see how embarrassed you are, “Try so hard but n-nothin’ ever happens.”
Simon moans at that. Loud and unbridled, “What’re you sayin’, baby? That you can’t make yourself cum, s’that it?” You shake your head bashfully, “Fuckin’ hell. That’s adorable.”
“D-Don’t tease me, Si,” you whimper but the seat of your panties is so fucking wet that it’s sticking to you. 
He hums, a predatory smile spreads across his face, “Am I bein’ mean, love?” You nod your head, tearfully staring up at him. It only makes his smile widen, canines popping out, “‘M sorry. Can’t help myself when you tell me ‘bout how you touch your pretty little pussy and just can’t make yourself cum like you need. Think I can do it for you, hm? Want me to try and make you cum?”
You vigorously nod your head, uncaring how fucking needy you look to him. He’s offering to give you what you’ve wanted for years – to give you a real, honest to God orgasm. And you weren’t going to let this chance slip away. 
“Want you on the bed,” he suddenly whispers, “On your back, lose the pants but keep everything else on.”
With a jerk of his head in the direction of the bedroom, you take off. You hear him chuckle behind you at your excitement. He makes sure the door is locked before he heads back to the bedroom. 
You’re there just like he asked, pants pooled on the floor, leaving you in nothing but an old t-shirt of his and a pair of the cutest little lilac colored panties he’s seen. You’ve got your knees pinned together, clenching your thighs but laying perfectly still in waiting for him. 
“So fuckin’ good for me,” he praises, grinning when you whimper and tremble at his words, “Oh, sweet thing likes to be praised, huh?”
You nod your head, “Wanna be good for you, Si.”
“That’s sweet, baby,” he coos, reaching to the back of his collar so he can tug his shirt off of his head. 
Your heart hammers away in your chest when he crawls onto the bed, hands on either side of your head. He looks so big like this, on top of you, completely blocking any view you had of your ceiling and instead filling your viewline with just him. He leans down and kisses you, humming contentedly when you eagerly kiss back. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders as he uses one hand to tug your legs open so he can slot himself between them. 
You cry out when he presses himself against your core. He’s wearing nothing but his jeans but you can feel the heat radiating through the thick material. 
“Shit, look at that,” he whispers, leaning back on his heels to admire the nice little wet patch that has stained your panties, “You already this wet, baby?”
“Kissin’ you always makes me this wet, Si,” you sweetly confess and oh, you are just so precious. 
His hands slide up your stomach, moving your t-shirt up and up until it sits crumpled under your chin. Your tits are bare and move with every gasping breath that you take. 
Simon’s hands are just as rough and warm as you’d expect them to be. His thumbs come up and glide over your nipples until they harden into stiff little peaks for him. 
Then his mouth is wrapping around one, swirling his tongue around it before pulling off with a lewd pop. His hand pinches the other nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he listens to you whimper and sigh. 
“Please, Si,” you whine, “I-It hurts, please.”
“It hurts?” he hums, leaving a fleeting kiss against the nipple his tongue was torturing just a moment ago, “Where? Hm?”
His hand travels down your body, cupping your cunt through your panties. You gasp, arching your hips just a bit to grind against his palm. He lets you, before he meanly pins your hips down with his other hand. 
“Where, love?” he smooths the pad of his thumb over the seam of your cunt through your panties. The fabric is saturated with your slick, letting him see every part of you through shape alone. His thumb finds your clit, the little bud poking out through the fabric from how hard and swollen it's become, “Here? ‘S it your pretty clit that hurts, love?”
You nod, eyes rolling back in your head when he presses his thumb against the bud, trapping it under his finger so he can roll mean little circles over it. You’d be mindlessly rutting your hips by now if he didn’t have his other arm slung over your hips to keep you pinned nice and still like he wants. 
It already feels so different than when you touched yourself. Maybe because it’s him or maybe because he’s so experienced. 
That thought makes you equal parts jealous and equal parts turned on. He’d slept with plenty of people but now he was using that expertise to make you feel good. 
“Can you take them off, please?” you whine, pitchy and sweet from arousal. 
“Asked so sweetly for me,” he coos, hitching his thumbs into the band of your panties before giving them a firm tug. 
You quickly lift your hips, letting him tug them down and off of your feet. You expect him to toss them away but instead he holds them up, thumbing over the slickness in the crotch. You watch him with wide eyes as he analyzes it. Your  breath hitches when he suddenly brings them towards his face and licks a wide stripe of the fabric, moaning when he gets a good laste of your syrupy sweet slick.
“Simon!” you gasp – admonish, leaning up to snatch them out of his grasp. 
His eyes open, he hadn’t even realized he’d closed them, to look at you. He licks his lips like a dog licking its chops when it tastes something real delicious. 
He doesn’t even comment on what he just did or the pure embarrassment that is written all over your face. Instead, he grips underneath your knees and yanks you down the bed towards him so your hips are situated in his lap. 
“Jus’ let me touch you, love,” he whispers, “I’ll work a nice little orgasm out of you in no time, yeah?”
You nod your head because you trust him. You know he’s going to be able to give you what you need so badly. You don’t even question it – especially when you feel how good it feels when he uses his thumbs to spread your folds open for him. He groans when he sees the sticky strings of slick that display just how turned on you are. 
Pretty little hole clenching sporadically around nothing, dribbling more creamy arousal that makes his tongue feel like lead in his mouth. A pretty clit that twitches and throbs under his scrutinizing gaze. But you make no move to cover yourself and hide from his gaze. 
He finally touches the bud directly and it’s like electricity strikes through you. You lose control of your body as your back arches and your thighs violently twitch. Your cheeks burn when you hear him chuckle softly at your reaction.
“Sensitive,” he huffs, a crooked little grin on his face as he brushes his thumb over your clit again, garnering the same reaction as before from you, “Fuck, can’t believe you’re this sensitive and can’t make yourself cum.”
“‘S cause it’s you, Si,” you sweetly confess.
And it’s true. Having him touch you like this directly – feeling his callused skin over the most sensitive little part of you is euphoric. It doesn’t feel anything like when you touch yourself at all. It feels magnified, you feel like a live wire and everything feels like too much. But you don’t do anything to impede him because you trust him more than anything – especially like this, with your body. 
He replaced his thumb with his middle finger, prodding at your entrance. You almost think he’s going to press inside you but he doesn’t – instead, he gathers your slick up on his finger and drags it up to your clit. He softly circles the bud, cock kicking against his thigh when you sigh and croon so sweetly for him. 
Your cunt makes sticky noises as he continues doing this, gathering your arousal and lathering your precious bud up with it so he can so softly play with it. His touches aren’t enough to actually work you to the edge, it’s much too slow and soft but it feels good. He waits for you to relax against the bed, lashes fluttering as you whimper and twitch on the bed for him.
“There you go, sweetheart,” he whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss against your trembling thigh, “Relax f’me. Want you nice and soft for me so I can get my fingers in this tight little cunt.”
You gasp at that, partly in excitement and also in apprehension. You’ve never actually put anything inside yourself before – except once, you put your finger in and it burned so you never tried it again. 
“D-Dont
” you find yourself muttering, making him freeze. He thinks you’ve changed your mind, anxiety getting the better of you and he’s fully prepared to propel himself away from you at a moment's notice, “Be gentle, okay?”
His gaze softens when he looks at you, “Won’t hurt you, love. I promise.”
You remain relaxed for him when he carefully prods you with his middle finger. He keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, not rubbing it or anything, just keeping a nice pressure that keeps you sagged against the pillows. 
It doesn’t feel anything like when you tried that one time with yourself. Everything is so much wetter and more pliant. It’s like your walls just suck the digit in, even though it’s so much bigger than your own finger. 
You sigh softly when you finally have something to clench around. Simon gives you a sweet kiss to the spot right underneath your belly button in silent praise. He keeps his lidded, brown eyes on your face, watching every little expression you make with rapt attention. 
He slowly and carefully fucks his middle finger into you, feeling the way you slowly relax around him, soaking his skin with your arousal. He smooths his free hand up the length of your body, abandoning your clit to wrap his palm around your breast. You place your own hand over his, encouraging him to squeeze harder. 
“How’s that feel, love?” he asks, still sliding his finger in and out of you.
“Okay
” you reply, keeping your hand over his on your chest, “But it
um
”
“What?” he urges, “Tell me what you feel.”
“I-It feels nice but
” you trail off and he hums, nodding his head.
“Doesn’t feel good?” he finishes for you. You nod your head and he laughs softly, “I know, baby. Jus’ tryin’ to get you used to the feeling and then I’ll make it feel real good, alright?”
“Okay,” you whisper but he can tell you’re not too convinced that it’s going to feel much better.
You’re worried that the same thing is going to happen – it’ll feel really good and then you’re never going to be able to climb over that wall. You hate to imagine disappointing him, failing to get off. You’d hate for him to put all this work in and you just can’t cum in the end. 
“Hey,” he coos, “Get out of your head, pretty. Don’t worry about a thing, alright?”
You take a deep breath and slowly let it out, allowing yourself to relax against the bed again. Simon waits for you to be nice and pliant around his finger before he starts to fit his ring finger alongside it. He catches sight of the furrow in your brow when he stretches you around two of his fingers. It burns but when Simon brings his thumb back to your clit, tapping against the bud, it vanishes. Your thighs twitch and you whimper, walls clenching in time with the little taps until the burning vanishes completely.
“There we are,” he praises, “Knew you could do it, sweetheart.”
“A-Are you gonna add another?” you find yourself asking.
“Later,” he responds, scissoring the two fingers he has snug inside your cunt, “‘M a big man, love. Gonna need you nice and stretched for me.”
You whimper at that, walls clenching around his fingers as he slowly begins to fuck them in and out of you. Your cheeks burn when you hear the loud, squishing noises your hole makes every time he stuffs them back inside. 
After a moment of just getting you used to being stretched on two of his thick digits, he suddenly crooks them up and hits something inside you that makes your back arch. It causes a tingling feeling that you’ve never experienced to heat your tummy every time he touches it.
“Simon!” you squeal, trying to clench your thighs closed but his broad shoulders keep them open, “Th-That feels-!”
“I know, baby,” he coos cockily, grinding his fingertips against that little spot that makes you so gooey and creamy around his fingers, “Feels real good right there, I know.”
Your back arches and your jaw drops. You can’t do anything but moan and cry out as he fucks against that spot. He’s urged on by your sounds of pure pleasure, eyes flicking between where he’s got your pretty cunt spread open and the euphoric expressions you can’t do anything to hide.
It’s so precious, seeing you so open and loud for him. You don’t do anything to hide your sounds of pleasure nor do you even think of faking any of them for his sake. Every little thing you’re feeling, you express, and you can’t help yourself because it’s all so new and so much.
That hot, tingling feeling in your core only intensifies with every experienced stroke of his fingers. Your eyes are rolling back every time he touches that magnificent spot inside you, abusing it with his fingers until your walls are soft and malleable for him again.
And then he brings his index finger into it. He’s even more slow and careful as he fits it in beside the other two fingers. It doesn’t burn like when he had given you his second finger but it’s a certain stretch that simply feels strange. 
He gets you stuffed open on his three fingers, up to the third knuckle. You’re spread so wide and squeeze his fingers so tight that it makes him moan when he thinks about what it will feel like around his cock. 
If you’re this tight around just his fingers then you’re going to feel positively euphoric around him. 
“Simon
” you coo, reaching down to card your fingers through his hair. 
He grunts in acknowledgement, but is unwilling to part his gaze from the sight of the creamy mess you’ve begun to leave on his fingers. Your pretty clit is twitching and so swollen, glistening from your juices and he suddenly has the inescapable desire to wrap his mouth around it. 
You’re not even looking when he decides to do it. It’s like he can’t stop himself. 
All you feel is something wet and hot wrap around the little bud. You practically wail at the feeling of his tongue sliding against it. Your feet kick aimlessly, hitting his back and shoulders as you flail beneath his body. 
You sob his name, yanking harshly on his hair in a way that hurts but he’s not going to stop you. He knows it’s mean to do this, not even warning you or easing you into the feeling before he’s suckling your clit. His tongue slips in circles around it, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. His ears practically ring from how loud you’re crying out for him. 
His three fingers remain buried inside you but he’s hardly able to move them from how tight you’re squeezing them. All he can do is grind his fingers against your g-spot but it only makes your pretty body more twitchy and makes you squirm even more beneath him. He has to hold you down so you can’t get away. 
He doesn’t want your precious pussy to be ripped away from him, your juices are making his taste buds tingle – you taste so damn good. 
That familiar heat begins to grow in your core – one you’ve experienced many times before by yourself. You cry and wail for him, sobbing his name and gripping his hair. 
“S-Si, don’t stop, please, please, please–” you choke on your own cries, slamming your head into the pillows as your back arches painfully hard. 
He grunts lowly, blonde lashes fluttering as he watches your body’s pure, unfiltered reactions to this pleasure. He knows you’re getting close, can feel you clenching around him and your clit pulsing on his tongue in time with your heartbeat. 
You feel yourself reaching that wall, the one you can never overcome. But it feels different this time, the pleasure isn’t slowing. It’s not fading like it always does when you’ve got your own fingers on your bud. 
It always seems to slip out of your grasp by this point.
This is it, you think. You’re going to cum. You’re finally going to fucking cum. 
Then everything stops.
His tongue is gone from your clit and his fingers are nowhere to be found. Simon’s shoulders rise and fall as he watches your face flicker through a range of emotions before your eyes fill with tears and you look at him – utterly pitiful and hopeless.
“Wh-Why
” you finally whisper, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. 
Your cunt pulses and throbs around nothing, the heat of your orgasm quickly dissipating, leaving that horribly empty and unsatisfying feeling in its wake. 
“Sorry, baby,” he coos, genuine and soft as he leans up to kiss your face, “That was mean, huh? ‘M sorry. Jus’ want you to have your first orgasm on a cock, love.”
That doesn’t do anything to quell your disappointment but you nod anyway, wiping away some stray tears that trickle from your eyes. 
“Please,” you breathlessly whisper, “Please, Simon. Want your cock, please. I-I was so close. It felt so good,” you start babbling, eyes falling to the hard outline of his cock in his jeans, “I wanna cum so bad, Si. Y-You promised. Please, just give me your cock. Please? Please? Simon!”
Simon’s mouth goes dry as he hears your babbled begging. Fuck, you’re absolutely aching for it. All you can think about is cumming. He never thought he’d get to hear you beg for him like this, so pathetically. You should be embarrassed, begging for cock like this when you’ve only just now gotten your first taste of being stretched open. Yet here you are fuckin’ crying for it.
His cock drools pre down his thigh, he can feel how wet his boxers have become from how much he’s leaking it. He’s aching in his jeans – he can’t pretend he doesn’t want it just as badly as you do.
“Shit, alright!” he snarls, wrapping a hand around your throat to force you to look at him. You gasp at the rough treatment, “Jus’ shut up and I’ll give it to you, yeah?”
You obediently nod your head, still staring up at him with those wide, teary eyes. He tries to act like his hands aren’t fucking trembling when he yanks his belt off. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this needy – this excited to get his cock inside a pussy. 
But it’s you. You’re special. 
He loves you. This isn’t like the one night stands and hookups he’s had in the past. This is different. 
He feels like a fumbling teenager the way he clumsily yanks his belt out of the loops and shoves his jeans down his thighs along with his underwear. His cock, big and heavy, hangs under its own weight – it never slaps up against his stomach. He wasn’t just chatting shit when he said he was a big guy. 
He wrapped his hand around himself, giving it a few, firm tugs. He feels your eyes on him, watching the way he touches himself and it sends heat through him. He scoots closer to you again, pulling back his foreskin to show the fat, leaky head that he meanly taps against your clit. 
You gasp a cute little ‘ah!’ when he does that brings a smile to his face. He can’t say he’s the best lay for a virgin because he’s so big and he’s a brute – it’s in his nature. But he’s trying his best for you. 
“Alright, baby,” he coos, leaning on one forearm above your head, draping his big body over yours. He easily manhandles you into position, caging your knees against your chest and wrapping himself around you, “Just relax for me, hm? Can you do that f’me?”
You nod your head and shakily put your hands on his shoulders, cupping his jaw to bring him down to kiss you. He sighs into your lips, using his free hang to grip the base of his cock, prodding against your hole. You’re so slippery that it slides out of you and slips up your clit. You whimper at the feeling, thighs twitching at the stimulation. 
When he finally starts to press inside, your nails bite into his shoulders. It stings – it hurts. He’s so big, making your poor little cunt burn the deeper he presses himself. The head pops in and your hips jump at the feeling, his cock slipping back out. 
He huffs, dropping his forehead against your shoulder, “Fuck, sit still.”
“S-Sorry!” you whimper, “I’m sorry!”
“Shh,” he sighs, kissing your cheek, “‘S okay, baby. Hurts, huh?”
“A little,” you whimper, trying to downplay it so he won’t stop.
He hums and presses a kiss against the corner of your mouth. He knows that working an orgasm out of you before making you take his cock would be the nice thing to do but he’s selfish. He wants to feel your orgasm around his cock – where you deserve to have it. 
It’s your very first orgasm after all. It needs to be good and he knows he can make it real good once he can get you speared on his cock. 
So he grips himself again, sitting up for just a moment to lewdly spit on your pussy. It hits your clit and trickles down where he catches it with the head of his cock. He leans over your body and starts to push in again. This time he tucks his arms under your shoulders and pins you impossibly against him, leaving you with nowhere to run when he starts to press into you. 
You whimper, feet kicking against his back when he pushes deeper than before – past the head. He knows it hurts, you’re stretched beyond your limit and he waits with bated breath for you to say the word and tell him to stop. 
But you don’t. 
You just grapple your arms around his waist and dig your nails in. His skin is sweaty by now and it makes getting any purchase on him difficult. You let out a watery little whimper that has him freezing. You’re speared on half his cock when he finally looks at you. 
Your eyes are teary and they slowly drip down your cheeks.
“Do you want to stop?” he asks, brushing some away with his thumb.
You immediately shake your head, no hesitation, “No! K-Keep goin’, Si.”
“Don’t cry, pretty,” he shushes, keeping his grip under your shoulders and his hips pinned firmly against yours so you can’t squirm when he starts pressing in again. Your mouth opens in a silent gasp, eyes fluttering from the ache that settles where he’s stretching you wide, “‘S okay, just take a deep breath. ‘M almost in, love, you’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me. Takin’ all of my cock so deep, just like you deserve. Hear me? This cock s’all yours now, yeah? Can have it whenever you need it.”
Your walls spasm around his cock as he talks, making him groan low in his chest. He’s almost there, can feel his balls starting to tap against you the deeper he gets until finally, his hips meet yours and you wail. 
He prods painfully against your cervix and he knows that it’s uncomfortable but he’s not willing to pull back just yet. He needs you to get used to being stretched and stuffed full of every inch of him. He takes care to do slow, gentle grinds, his pelvis catching your clit that eventually makes you relax. 
“That’s it,” he praises, “Just relax and let me make you feel good.”
He finally eases off of you, balancing his weight on his forearms on either side of your head, hovering over you. He slowly pulls his hips back, watching you slump against the bed when he finally stops pressing on your cervix. 
He finally starts fucking you, sliding his cock out just a bit before rolling his hips forward again. It's slow and soft, just testing the waters and getting you used to this new stimulation. 
It feels entirely different from his fingers. His cock is bigger, fills you so much more, touches deeper. 
His cock reaches spots deep inside you that his fingers didn’t even reach. But he’s permanently pressing against that spot his fingers were torturing. It feels so fucking good. 
Simon can see the way your eyes roll back as he carefully fucks you. Your first cock and you’re taking it so damn well. It makes him want to see how much more you can take but he knows he needs to ease you into it, he doesn't want to overwhelm you.
“Si
” you sigh softly, blinking as you struggle not to float off and become drunk with pleasure. 
“I know, pretty,” he coos, kissing your cheek before leaning back on his heels, fastening the thrusts of his hips. 
You can’t keep quiet now, mouth falling open to let out the most precious sounds of pure pleasure. You’re staring at him with wide eyes, like he’s hung the moon and stars in the sky just for you. His cock fucking throbs at the look of wonder that crosses your face. He knows you’re getting close, can feel how tight you’re clamping around him and he can see how much you’re creaming around him – making a mess at the base of his cock and in the thatch of curls there. 
“You gonna cum?” he coos, grinning when you shake your head, “Of course you are. I can fuckin’ feel it, baby. Know you got one for me, go ahead. Cum on my cock real nice, c’mon.”
“C-Can’t,” you whimper. It’s too much. You’re so wet. It’s fucking messy but you feel yourself at that damn wall, hanging on a thread and waiting for euphoria to come but it doesn’t, “Please! Simon! Please, I-I can’t! Please, please, please
”
“Fuck,” his hisses when he hears you begging to cum on his cock, “Come on then, baby. You can do it. Just let it go, let me fuck it outta you.”
You toss your head back into the pillows as a sob is ripped from your chest. As if he can sense how much you’re struggling, he brings his thumb down to press against your clit. Your eyes fucking roll, only the whites of them visible. You clench down around him like a vice and it only takes a couple little swipes of his thumb for you to tumble over the edge. 
It feels unlike anything you could have ever imagined. Pleasure soars through you and your hearing cuts out. It feels like you lose control of your body, unable to do anything but thrash and twitch as he fucks you through it. You’re not sure if you would prefer him to stop or keep going because it’s all so fucking much that it hurts. 
You’re gushing around him, drenching his cock in sticky, creamy cum that drips in thick strings down his balls. Holy fuck.
It feels like hours that you’re speared on his cock, cumming and cumming before it finally leaves you and you collapse against the bed. You’re still twitching, entire body shivering until he finally slows his thrusts to soft little rolls of his hips. He takes his thumb off of your clit and you’re thankful because it was starting to become unpleasant. 
You swallow despite how dry your mouth is, eyes finally focusing on him. His brows are furrowed and his bottom lip is tucked into his mouth. Pretty, brown eyes are locked on you and you suddenly feel shy. 
Had he been watching you the whole time? You hoped you didn’t make any ugly faces or embarrassing noises. 
“Fuck,” he coos, seemingly sensing your shame, “That was a fuckin’ orgasm, love.”
You’re panting, you realize. And you’re tired. You’ve never felt more relaxed in your life. 
All you can think is that you’ve been missing out on that your whole life? Now you’re not sure you’ll be able to even live without it ever again. 
Simon’s hands cup under your knees and pin them to your chest. You gasp as he bends you as he sees fit. You’re limp, so completely drunk on the pleasure you just experienced that you simply let him. 
But you realize he’s even deeper like this – and it doesn’t hurt like it did before. He’s pressing against your back wall and it actually feels good. You feel so sensitive inside, like you can feel every twitch of his cock. 
He’s still languidly dragging his cock in and out of you. It’s a fucking mess between your legs, you’ve cum so fucking much that it’s everywhere. He’s never been covered like this before and it’s fucking hot. 
Your cum sticks between the two of you in little strings that break and reform every time his hips meet and leave yours. Your little clit is puffy and swollen from your orgasm and he wants to press his thumb against it again but he knows the poor little thing is much too sensitive still. 
Your legs flop uselessly as he fucks you, eases you past overstimulation until you’re sweetly cooing for him again. He takes that chance to fuck you properly again, intent on finding his own orgasm deep in your cunt. 
His heavy balls slap against your ass. He wants to cum. He plans to make himself cum like this, just using your pretty pussy. But then he sees your eyes widen again and your lips part almost curiously and his eyes narrow.
“You feel it again, huh, sweetheart?” he goads, shifting his weight on his knees so his hips are pressed even closer to yours. 
“C-Can’t,” you whisper, the same thing you had before. But it’s different now, “W-Won’t be able to, Si.”
“S that a challenge, love?” he teases, a crooked little smile on his face. You sleepily shake your head, “Hmm, I think I can fuck another one out of you. One orgasm won’t be enough, two is a good number for now. Until I train this little cunt to cum for me all night long.”
You whimper, reaching out the claw at his forearms where he pins your knees to your chest. You’re held so uselessly open, cunt completely vulnerable to his fat cock stuffing you full. His pelvis hits your clit in a way that makes the little bud tingle and your cunt clenches pathetically around him with every thrust he gives you. 
Sweet little ‘ah, ah, ah’s’ are punched from your lungs every time he sinks completely inside. He’s gripping your knees harshly, squeezing where he has a grip as his own orgasm starts to creep up on him but he’s going to give you another orgasm. He has to make you cum again, to see you lost in pleasure like that once more. He knows that will push him over the edge, give him what he needs. He wants to cum with you, fill you up while you’re in the throes of pure pleasure that only he has ever given you. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasps, fighting the feeling of his own eyes rolling back in favor of watching you. 
He loves the way you wear everything you feel on your face. From the looks of wonder when it feels really good to the little rolls of your eyes when he makes it hurt just a bit. It’s so cute. 
Makes him want to play around with that little part of you – be a little mean to you. 
“Cum,” he growls, fighting his own orgasm down, “Fuckin’ cum right now.”
“I can’t!” you wail, kicking against his hold on your knees, pressing down to spread you open even further. 
His hips slam against yours, loud slaps and slick noises of your gooey cunt filling his ears, “You can. You will. Cum, sweetheart. You better fuckin’ cum.”
But you shake your head. It’s so close, you can feel it. It’s creeping up on you and you want it so bad. You want to feel that pleasure again. But you’re not even sure you’re going to be able to cum again, it feels so much more sensitive than before. It’s too much. 
Simon bares his teeth, letting go of one of your legs to drift between your thighs. Your eyes widen, you think he’s going to rub it again – it’s so sensitive that you’re not sure you’ll be able to take it. 
But instead, he does something else.
You hear it before you feel it, a soft little slap followed by the feeling of being electrocuted. Simon watches you with lidded eyes to see how you react. Just like he expected, you wail and your body gives a mean twitch at the impact. 
So he does it again. 
And again. 
And again.
Not too hard, just enough for it to hurt a little bit. A sting against a terribly sensitive little bud. It’s mean – he’s mean. But he can’t fucking help it. 
He needs you to cum for him again.
“Cum,” he snarls, giving your clit another slap.
As if on command, it sends you over the edge. Your legs kick out and he has to abandon your clit to hold you down, pinning you harshly to the bed as he uses all his weight to fuck down into your spasming little cunt. You’re cumming so hard around him that you stop breathing. He hears the hitch of breath and doesn’t hear the exhale. All you do is lay there, cry for him and cum.
He finds his end just as violently, tossing his head back to moan into the room as cum erupts from his cock. His thrusts grow sloppy as he milks the orgasm out of himself, voice breaking as he whimpers from how fucking good it feels. 
Like no orgasm he’s ever experienced. It’s like he can’t stop cumming, filling you up so much that it oozes out from around his cock. 
You’re trembling underneath him when he finally comes down, tearfully gazing up at him with your mouth agape, struggling to catch your breath.
“N-No more,” you pathetically whimper, legs twitching from the aftershocks, “C-Can’t take anymore, Si.”
“Shh,” he shushes, letting your legs go so you can relax comfortably as he pulls his cock from your pussy.
It’s twitching and clenching sporadically, still coming down from your orgasm. It makes his cum drip out of your cunt, a mess that spreads to the already messy sheets. Your cum and his mix together to make a sticky, gooey mess that makes his mouth water. He wants to eat it up, stuff his tongue into your tight little hole and swallow it all down. 
But he can’t. Maybe next time, he vows.
His cock gives a valiant kick at the thought of getting to do this again. He sits on his heels, gazing at his messy cock as if softens. He feels dazed, almost drunk. 
Then he hears the softest little sniffle from you and his eyes snap up to your face to find your crumpled expression and tears falling down your face. You cover your face with your hands and earnestly begin to cry.
“Hey, it’s alright, love,” he coos, laying beside you to tuck you into his chest.
“I-I don’t know why I’m crying,” you sob, wrapping your arms around his waist as you cry into him. 
“It happens,” he assures, “It was a lot and you’re just a little overwhelmed s’all. Just let it out, baby.”
And you do, weakly sobbing into his chest until it feels like you can’t cry anymore. He holds you through it all, rubbing your back and cooing sweet nothings in your ear until you grow silent. 
“Alright, love?” he asks.
“S-Sorry, Si,” you sniffle, finally pulling out of the spot in his arms you were hiding in, “I-I don’t want you to think I didn’t want it or that it was bad. I just
”
He gives you a soft smile, leaning forward to kiss you. It’s short and sweet, “I don’t think that. Like I said, it happens. Sometimes people just cry after sex, nothin’ to worry about.”
“Are you sure?” you sniffle, wiping your cheeks dry when the tears finally stop.
“Positive,” he sits up, “Let’s get cleaned up, alright? We need to change the damn sheets, fuckin’ hell.”
You giggle as you look down at the sheets where a very visible dark spot is sitting where you once laid. You don’t even have time to be embarrassed before he’s swooping you off of the bed and escorting you to the bathroom.
It’s too small for both of you to fit but you make it work. He wipes you down with a warm cloth before hopping into the shower to rinse and clean himself before he gets out and lets you do the same. While you do that, he changes the bedding completely and replaces it with new sheets and blankets for the two of you to sleep in together. 
When you finally stumble into the bedroom, he wraps his arms around you and urges you onto the bed. You giggle as you flop onto the bed before he crawls in after you and covers the both of you up, wrapping himself around you until you’re tucked securely against him. 
“I take it you liked it?” he finally whispers.
You shyly nod, “I-It was um
fun.”
“Felt real good, huh?” he teases, grinning wolfishly when you whimper.
“Y-Yeah,” you whisper, “It felt really good. I already want to do it again.”
Simon groans, hugging you tightly before shaking his head, “You’re gonna be insatiable. Gonna give my cock a run for its money.”
You giggle, affectionately petting his hair before he looks at you with the softest expression you’ve ever seen. It’s like his eyes are sparkling in the low light of the bedroom. He leans forward and ever so softly kisses your forehead, then your nose, before he reaches your lips. He pecks them softly, pulling back for just a second before he kisses you again. 
“I love you,” he whispers, so soft that you almost miss it. 
And your heart begins to race. You almost struggle to find the words to reciprocate. But when you do, he smiles and tucks you against him again, big arms wrapped around you like a bear hug.
It’s almost surreal. You can’t believe you’re here after everything – with him. 
Like you’ve dreamed your whole life, he loves you just like you love him. 
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PART ONE.
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sugutiva · 1 month ago
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❝ THREE IS NEVER A CROWD ! ❞ — ST & SG.
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á„«á­Ą. synopsis : walking in to find your two best friends making out on camera was no surprise to you at all— but finding yourself sandwiched between them surely was.
tags : smut, p in v, threesomes, geto has piercings, cam sex, oral sex ( f & m receiving ), fingering, slight handjob, spanking, squirting, creampie, cum facial or wtv it’s called, cursing, dirty talk, all lowercase intended, not proofread !
a/n : sugutiva posting twice in one month?! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و
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if someone had told you that your two loser best friends who shit-talks about everyone and everything they encounter, uncannily bicker like an old married couple, and secretly watches porn together was behind a famous camboy account, you’d wouldn’t be surprise at the fact at all.
you had always suspected that the pair were equally fond of each other— no matter how much they tried to deny it. but there’s still some sort of shock once you find them sloppily making out on the bed you were supposed to be having a movie marathon on, with a live audience capturing their lewd movements.
they only break away from their overbearing kiss once the grocery bag filled to the brim falls out your hand, and spills it’s contents on the floor. cerulean and violet eyes stare holes into your motionless form, clearly processing the embarrassing situation.
oh. this was honestly the last thing you expected on a friday night.
“ satoru? suguru?” you utter, curling your eyebrow upwards in disbelief as you take in the scene infront you; there sits satoru on suguru’s lap with nothing on but boxer briefs, meanwhile suguru is situated underneath him with no shirt but a pair of baggy black sweatpants. despite satoru’s imposing figure, you still had an inkling that suguru was the real dominant one out of the duo.
“ shit. fuck— um, h-hey. . .” satoru greets you with a sheepish smile. the wait of reality truly settles in because you’ve never witnessed him being slightly ashamed for anything he did or does. he unlatches himself from suguru’s body but there’s no point, you’ve already seen what you’ve saw. “ i didn’t know you’d come over at all—“
“ it’s a friday night, satoru.” geto deadpans before facing you with a serene smile, like you hadn’t caught them in the act of doing something lewd. infront him, there’s dozens of comments rolling in, and your eye catches them. some asked them about who you were, if you were the girl they often talked about, or if they’ll do another threesome again, this time with you.
knowing they’d regularly talk about their viewers to you made your body flush all over with a sudden throbbing temptation.
“ so . . . you two are camboys? since when?” even though you swore you were in a state of surprise, your body must’ve moved by it’s self, seeing how you take a couple steps forward until your somewhat towering over their tall bodies. gojo looks at you with surprise before twisting to amusement, while geto keeps his expression serene.
“ you don’t sound too disgusted or surprised,” geto skillfully avoids your questions calmly, and you grow nervous under their combined observant gazes. they were prepared for you to outright judge them for their shameful shared account, but instead you don’t. in fact, you look intrigued. “ i could be wrong but, i think you want to join us.”
you grow quiet and break eye contact. it’s cute.
gojo stares at you with a teasing smile before grabbing your wrist to pull you over closer, he mumbles. “ you wanna fuck?”
you attempt to speak but nothing comes out. it’s like that for a few seconds, you staring at them in dumbfound as they wait seemingly patiently for your answer. “ i— w-with me? a threesome with . . . all three of us?”
“ yeah, i mean, that’s literally the point . . . of a threesome.” geto quips back with sass, and you roll your eyes.
the answer is yes, written in bold letters as your back meets the cushion of the bed they were once on moments ago. it feels expensive.
gojo goes over to the camera, positioning it in a good angle that where all thousands of their audience can see with you bare with your legs sprawled out, and geto in between them.
his hot breath fans over you already soaked cunt presented to him, narrowly flashing you that shining piercing stamped on his tongue. “ you hear that, princess?” he brings his thumb to gather your slick from your leaking entrance before smearing it on your erect clit— just begging for his attention. or maybe for the both of them at once. “ you hear your cunt singing loudly for me?” his thumb repeatedly flicks at your labia, ringing out deep squelching sounds.
“ suguruuu, don’t play with our food now,” satoru whines, making his way back over to the bed once he has the right set angle. he gets down on his knees next to his partner, pushing your right leg further to make room for him. “ god, ‘m staaarved. keep your legs spread like that— don’t move them at all.”
before you know it, their tongues are fall into an automatic rhythm while slurping and thrashing at your drenched entrance. words cannot describe how good they are at skillfully eating you out at the same time— distantly, it makes you wonder how many times they’ve done it before you came into the picture.
“ fuuuckk!” your mouth drops open, feeling each detail of their tongues slobbering over you, now at different paces. geto languidly tongue fucks your hole; his tongue reaches so impossibly deep inside that you feel the outline of the cool piercing brush against the heat of your hole. while gojo quickly flicks at your clit in rapid succession, strings of saliva coating his own chin, dripping down so messily that they meet with geto’s occupied wet muscle. “ deeper, sugu, deeeeper! wan’a f-feel your piercing!”
“ hmph, suguru’s not the only one eating this sloppy pussy out. or are you too dumb to feel the difference between our tongues?” sensing competition, satoru slurps your whole clit in his mouth. his head shifts up and down as if he was sucking against something else— his tongue flicks out his mouth, much slower this time, accompanied by more saliva coating your pearl, only to be sucked in at the same time his tongue pulls back into his warm mouth.
the sight is nothing short of vulgar, and you’re sure the paid watchers are getting way more than what they expected.
geto pulls back from your cunt, but you don’t get to whine about the lost contact of his tongue leaving your opening when he easily slips two of his thick fingers in, resulting in a loud popping noise, and an even louder moan from your mouth. “ tsk. yer’ such a try hard, satoru. turnin’ everything into a competition.”
“ so? we can’t have you hoggin’ her all for yourself now,” his speech is noticeably slurred due to sucking hungrily on your clit. his mouth detaches from your aching bud, just to deliver a slew of mean spanks to make it twitch under his harsh ministrations. “ ain’t that right, princess?”
the painful sticky contact catches you off guard completely before it quickly brings you back into waves of pleasure. taken aback, you jerk your body away, although you don’t get any where near far because of your hole getting mapped out, and gojo’s iron grip on your hip. the confusing pleasure-pain entanglement has you feeling beyond lightheaded.
“ shit! y-yes, satooru! i wan’ t-the both of you!” your hands flies down in an attempt to pull away the hands causing you extreme pleasure— more than what you can initially handle.
“ yeah. slapping her pussy so she can agree with you definitely wins you more brownie points.” suguru dryly notes, “ we’re gonna break her already.”
“ i’d like to see you do something about it, suguboo.” satoru voice cuts in, the enthusiasm peaking in his tone that suguru lacks.
of course they’d bicker while turning your brain mushy threw your overworked cunt.
“ mmph— ‘m gonna squirt!” you shriek out, your body curves into a outwardly arch— that looks sexy albeit painfully from the camera’s point of view.
suguru starts thrusting his fingers again, even faster than before. satoru’s head dips down to your clit to give it a spit filled kiss before lapping it up into his mouth entirely like before. a tight but slightly uncomfortable pressure builds in your lower stomach.
your surprised that your voice hasn’t given out, considering of how loud your moaning both of their names as they write their conjoined love letter over the expanse of your cunt. “ fuh— fuuccck . . . o-oh!”
your nimble fingers finds home in gojo’s pristine locks of hair. he nibbled on your clit abruptly, and that was your end. your body freezes in your arched position before breaking out into tremors as clear fluids squirts from your body.
“ how cute, our best friend has such a sloppy pussy on ‘er,” suguru’s voice purrs with amusement, watching intensely as the juices that sprays uncontrollably from your body coats the entire half of satoru’s lower face, with some reaching the duvets underneath your bodies.
your body collapses back down on the bed. there’s a brief pregnant pause in the room— you barely notice that it’s because of satoru swapping your juices that he held in his mouth into suguru’s in a deep kiss.
gojo uncharacteristically whines as geto grabs a fistful of his hair to tug him closer— this whiny boy cannot be the same person that just made you paint his face in your vigorous fluids. there’s a brief glimpse of their tongues twirling and touching each other’s, like how they did on your cunt moments ago. suguru pulls from the kiss while also pulling his drowned fingers from your hole, soundly. he presses the certain digits on satoru’s warm tongue, expecting him to suck on them.
which he does, with a submissive moan. “ suguruuuu,”
as they continue to make out, it makes you throb all over again.
satoru chases after his fingers once suguru pulls them away. his brattiness is short lived when suguru yanks his hair to make him face your wrecked form. “ ah ah, don’t be greedy now. we still have a pussy to break again.”
the dynamic assigned with their pornographic persona fits them perfectly— suguru is labeled as the no-nonsense top, while satoru is the bratty bottom that will crack under pressure if pushed enough— no wonder why they’re so famous.
your body is situated into the iconic doggystyle stance. you see the lap of satoru, his boxers briefs are saturated a shade darker than it originally was, credits to his sticky pre-cum making itself known. your hands slowly spring his cock free, and satoru sighs shakily from above you.
you licked your lips, staring at your best friend’s astonishing length. he stood tall, even though it slapped against his stomach, you could tell that it reached far past his belly button; his tip flushes an angry red along with a eye-catching pearly bead of cum that makes your pussy clench around nothing— for now. no doubt, the sheer size will have your jaw aching for days after.
“ no need to just ogle at it. ‘s all yours babe, heh.” gojo chuckles cockily, watching you gawk at his freed dick.
you had temporarily forget the owner of such a pretty cock, had such a blabbermouth.
you glare at him from underneath your eyelashes, you harden the tip of your tongue and push it against the vein bulging from his skin, trailing your tongue all the way upwards until your reaches his slightly swollen tip. there, you take the fat head in your mouth, giving it a harsh suck that makes satoru groan and throw his head back.
geto settles from behind you, giving your rounded ass a heartfelt squeeze before slapping the jiggly skin sternly. he stops to pump his own hardness as he slaps the tip against your sopping folds, noisily— this is how you figure out he has an prince albert’s piercing, when he’s close to using it to turn you drunk on both lingering cock’s. “ waiting on you, pretty girl.”
spreading your legs more, you push back against his base. the curve of his cock presses against your mound, a silent telling that you’re ready for him, and he takes it exactly like that when he suddenly sinks into your warm walls with no follow up warning.
oh god, is he fucking thick.
from the obvious feeling, you can tell that he has more girth to his cock— thicker than gojo’s, but not quite as long.
geto grunts, his gruff hands gripping tightly at your waist as he thrusts forward. his pierced bulbous tip immediately hammers into your sweet spot. the forceful pumps that he delivers to your much smaller body, has your stomach tightening with fulfilled hunger, causing you to mewl around gojo’s cock.
and the vibrating sensitivity is so dizzying to the latter. “ keep fuckin’ her jus like t-that,” his abs flexing and clenching in your field of vision. you hollow your cheeks in and relax the tight muscles in your throat, so you can consume more than just his meaty head. “ oh fuuuuck, baby. you’ve got such a d-deadly throat on ya,”
“ don’t tell me you’re going to cum already now.” geto teases, composedly watching gojo’s reactions. he’s since then propped one leg up on the bed, diving deeper into your pussy even further. “ hey. once his tip starts twitching he’s about to—“
“ shut the f-fuck up,” his strained voice doesn’t come off sternly than what he expected as you trail your tongue down, leading to his tender balls. “ n-not yet— can’t do that, ‘m gonna cum too early!” you pay his words no mind as your hand moves up to stroke up and down on his copious length.
by now, you’re purely relying on geto’s strength and your other hand placed on gojo’s firm thigh to keep you upright. geto leans forward, his chest pressed against your back while the hands once grabbing and slapping at your plump flesh strains your hips. the new position creates more of an absolute mess out of you, along with the heavy balls stuffed in your mouth.
you push back against him every time you feel his pelvis collide with your forgotten clit in sticky thrusts, the contact gives you a distant amount of pleasure but it’s not near enough. “ you desperate for something? how bout you ask me first, then i’ll make this pussy drown my cock.
a tease is the perfect word to describe geto— he knows what you want, but still decided to make you spell it out for him. painstakingly.
“ i want you to t-touch me,” he gives your body a jagged thrust. he wanted more, for you to be more specific. you grumble before complying. “ i w-want you to touch my clit, suguru, pleaseee!”
his hand creeps in between your parted thighs, fingers toying with your throbbing clit in fast paced, tight circles to match the speed of his own hips. “ like this? you like havin’ your clit played with while you give your other best friend head?” his voice is pitched an octave lower pressed to your ear, the purring sensation makes you push back against him, searching for your pending orgasm. “ heh. what a greedy slut for cock.”
“ ‘m gonna cum soon, princess.” gojo jaw clenches as he breathes out, nostrils slightly flaring due to the doubled pleasure; your hand pulls and twists in up and down motions on his cock, your saliva helps guides your hand as your mouth is currently occupied with him. he doesn’t let you stop or pull away even for a moment as his fingers cards through the locks of your hair, pulling and pushing them closer. “ c-close your eyes, baby. wan’a paint your pretty face in my cum for the viewers.”
you had briefly forgotten that all of your obscene doings are being captured. dozens and dozens of donations roll in, but you can’t focus on that. not when your senses are clouded with only impure thoughts of your two best friends.
you listen to gojo’s order— and you’re glad because moments later, galloons of his sticky cum paints your face in a translucent base. “ g-good girl, oohhh, you look so pretty like this for m-me.” he cups your face with one hand, while smearing the leaking slit of his tip against your lips. your tongue dips out to lick the bitter yet somehow sweet substance.
the black haired, determined man pulls at your arms, fucking into you faster, initiating broken gasps to leave your throat with every push. “ suguruuu, ‘m so close. i . . . fuuuck, gonna cum!”
“ you like it rough, yeah?” he gives you another awakening thrust, and that’s your end. your head throws back against his broad shoulder and he turns his head to latch on your neck.
but he still doesn’t relent. not until he comes next.
making your head bobble and your pleasure quickly bleed into overstimulation, until your restricting walls triggers his own climax. with a harsh bite on your neck; geto cums, while consuming down his pornographic moans. and it’s a plentiful amount.
“ o-oh shit.” his jaw ached from how hard it was clenched and the muscles in his thighs flex. his fingers on your clit slow, eventually dropping their pace “ yer’ so t-tight. my dick feels like it’s going to fall o-off . . .”
his cum is so warm and it makes you feel full inside, he ruts his hips up erratically to make broken hiccups escape your mouth before he eventually stops.
the salacious mood calms down as you’re busy catching your breath with the weight of geto on top of you— you don’t even realize the camera is in your face until the familiar notification sounds are too close up.
bleary-eyed, you looked into the camera from under your eyelashes. the seductive scene of satoru’s sticky cum covering your face couldn’t be anymore intoxicating to ingest.
“ i think we have more room for another person,” gojo’s cerulean eyes meets his companion’s. “ what d’ya think, suguru?”
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doll-for-you-11 · 3 months ago
Text
Im at work right now. Its almost 2am, and Im all alone. The last one here, the front door standing open around the corner from me. Anyone could walk in. No one anywhere around to hear me scream.
All I can think of is a group of masked men walking in and dragging me to the couch down the hall. Ripping my clothes off and raping me for hours. We technically closed an hour ago. No one else is coming till noon tomorrow when we open.
It would take almost no effort to ruin me however they wanted. And they'd laugh so much when they realize I was soaked before they even entered the building.
I bet theres a wet spot on this chair Im in. Lace panties soaked through under my skirt. And the A/C is on so high, its so cold, my nipples would be hard the second they ripped my bra open.
Forcing me to beg them to use me. Beg them to do disgusting perverted things. Slapping me harshly and beating my tits if the things I ask for aren't disgusting enough.
The humiliation of having to think of and ask for things from them, as they laugh, calling me a dirty whore. Such a fucking slut for thinking of such nasty things.
By the time the night is through they've each fucked every hole multiple times, and Ive been fucked with every object theyve found around the building that they can fit inside of me.
Im tied up with scraps of my own ruined clothing, cum coating my face and tits. So fucked out and broken that I cant move as they take Polaroids and tape them to every inch of the break room. Leaving me there to be found by my creepy manager the next day.
He takes advantage, bringing me to his truck and leaving me bound in the backseat until he clocks out that afternoon. Taking me home to use as his personal little slave.
If my mind wasnt already so gone, Id probably have picked up on the fact that those masked men were some of my other co workers, and that my manager definitely set the whole thing up. But its too late to worry about that now, as I spend every waking hour with something shoved up my ass and every night fucked so far into submission that the only concept my stupid little slut brain can understand is that cock is to be worshipped.
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rin-may-1103 · 3 months ago
Text
Just a Bite.
Master Post | Next
Danny stared out at the busy street from behind his dumpster.
or well, not his dumpster, but it might as well be his considering how many nights he's spent sitting behind it like some rabid raccoon.
Two months ago, he would have been sleeping in his own bed. His glow-in-the-dark stars vaguely lighting up his room in soft luminescent colors. The sound of Jazz snoring in her sleep just a room over, his parents still milling around in the basement.
he would have just finished fighting the box ghost and collapsed onto his bed, the sound of his home lulling him to sleep.
Oh, how things can change in a blink of an eye.
No, instead of sleeping on his bed with his cartoon ghost sheets and NASA poster covered room, he's out here in some random dirty city, sleeping behind dumpsters.
dirty, grimy, rusty dumpsters.
"did you hear?" some lady dressed in a light blue summer dress asked, turning to look at her friend as they started to walk past. "Mr. Wayne donated another lump sum to that charity." she huffed, shaking her head like she had just said the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard.
her friend stopped in the middle of the alley opening, her graying hair splaying in an ark as she twisted to face the other women. "my word! again? what the hell is that man thinking?"
the woman huffed, then smirked in amusement. "it's like he's shouting for the world to hear how desperate he is for attention. he thinks if he donates enough money to those scoudrails they'll love him or something. With how he's acting lately, it's like he wants all the street rats to barge into his home asking for money, food, and clothes."
her friend clicked her tongue in disgust, "I'd believe it. he has so many kids now, it's like he's running an orphanage. someone, anyone really, with black hair and some tragic story could walk right in and not even be noticed. they'd blend right in with the others."
"I heard it's genetic, his father was the same way before he met Martha. Bruce's blood son, Damian I believe, acts just like his father. the boy's been spotted taking stray cats and dogs inside. It wouldn't surprise me if the paper posted about him convincing his father for another sibling at some point."
the women then turned and started to walk away, their conversation slowly bleeding into the surrounding city ruckus.
Danny leaned back, resting his head against the crumbling brick behind him.
walk right in and not be noticed? wouldn't that be grand. He had heard of Mr. wayne and his gaggle of black-haired children. What were their names again? he could have sworn Sam told him before, in one of her rants about rich society.
Richard Grayson was the first, Danny remembered because Tucker had been making none stop dick jokes for a few hours. Danny didn't understand why the man would willingly go by Dick, but then again, who was he to question someone's name when he fights ghosts like Skulker and Technis on a daily basis?
Next was... Jason? Sam had mentioned there was a whole conspiracy theory of how his death was a cover-up. how all the unsolved crime community swore it was Bruce who killed the kid, that or the kid had some terminal illness that Bruce didn't want the media to know about.
thennnnnn-
Danny glanced around, trying to dig through his memories of Sam's rant. Dick: the orphaned circus act taken in the night his parents died. he's romanie? maybe, Danny wasn't too sure on that one. Jason: taken off the streets, one of his parents was out of the picture and the other one died of a drug overdose.
and then there was..... Tim! Right, Tim, the one who was Mr. Wayne's neighbor before his mother died and his dad went into a coma, then died later on. right, right. he was the known tech genius, the one who took over the company while Mr. Wayne stepped back for a while.
there were others? like, four others? Damian, the lady said he was the blood son sooo, that would imply he was the only bio kid.
who else was there? hmmmm.
well, either way, Danny's tired brain agreed with the women. someone, anyone, who looked vaguely like the other kids could walk right into the house and no one would notice.
it was a bad idea. a terrible one really. but. Danny was hungry.
he's been sleeping behind dumpsters for a few weeks now, he hadn't had anything good to eat in forever, and he was tired. (not as exhausted as he was back home, but still tired. who would have guessed he'd sleep more while homeless?)
he wasn't going to steal from people, his core wouldn't allow him to. and well, he's pretty sure Dan would have stolen already, so there was no way Danny was going to. not unless his life was at risk, and well? it wasn't right now, so no stealing.
but this? walking right into a house and blatantly taking food? right in front of them?
it wouldn't be stealing if he just flat-out didn't try to hide it. they'd be able to stop him and send him away. heck, he doubted he'd even make it past the front gate before they turned him away.
...
was he really going to do this?
...
yes, yes he was.
standing up, Danny started making his way out of the alleyway and over to the tall building with Wayne's name on it. It was a good place to start, maybe he could even find one of the kids and walk with them. or, even better, he could find Mr. Wayne and walk with him. he liked that better than following some kid around.
suddenly, a car honked right next to him, the window rolling down to reveal a tired and disheveled man behind the wheel. glancing up, Danny made eye contact with the taxi driver.
the man yawned and gestured for him to get in, already speaking before Danny could decline. "Mr. Wayne! Your father," yawn, "Father already paid for me to take you home. just hop in."
Danny blinked then glanced around, looking to see if the Wayne the man was talking about was around. nope. turning back, Danny spotted a green sticky note on the back seat.
well, alright then. guess he was getting into the taxi and doing this after all. Clockwork obviously approved if he messed with the timing of things.
Next
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lovebugism · 1 year ago
Note
ok reader x eddie having a casual conversation about sex, talking about what they're both into, leading to some smut??? just hearing what eddie's into sounds so hottttt (i imagine its filthy,, sorry)
ty for requesting! hope you like it!! — a failed date with eddie leads to a night in and several confessions (established relationship, mostly fluff, talks of sex but no actual smut 18+, 1.6k)
fictober (㇏(â€ąÌ€á”„á”„â€ąÌ)ノ)
Eddie Munson is a hopeless romantic.
Not because he loves like it’s breathing (though some would argue otherwise), but because his attempts to be affectionate with you are complete and utter failures.
He had a whole romantic day planned. A late lunch, a quick walk, and then sunset at the park. Honestly, it probably would’ve been a pretty metal date if it was any day other than this one — the biggest flood of the whole goddamn year.
You got to the diner just fine but had to rush back to the trailer in the rain since he didn’t have his van. Thankfully, it waited to outright pour until he got you home. Now, his leather jacket — which you’d used as a makeshift umbrella — hangs beside the opened window to dry.
The orange autumn breeze rolls over your bare bodies like silk (because, of course, an innocent shower after getting drenched in the rain couldn’t not end in getting dirty again).
“Was all this just a ploy to get me into bed?” you tease, tracing the freckles on his back with the tip of your finger. “’Cause you coulda just asked, you know? I would’ve said yes.”
Lying flat on his stomach, Eddie laughs into his folded-up arms. His deep brown hair brushes his pale shoulders when he turns to look at you. His smile is swollen and rosy and crooked.
“You got me, princess. Making my girlfriend walk in disgusting weather was all a part of my evil plan.”
“I wouldn’t say it was evil.”
“No?”
“Sinful, maybe. Sexy, even,” you joke with a lopsided grin. “But no, not evil.”
“Is that so?” he lilts as he rises on his elbow to prop his cheek on his fist.
You shake your head and roll onto your back. Your eyes flit to the spotted ceiling. A smirk blossoms on your lips. “I feel like evil would imply that it was hurtful in some way. And that thing you did in the shower felt way too good to be evil.”
“What thing?” the boy wonders with pinched-together brows.
You shoot him a look. “You know
” you hum vaguely, expectantly.
“No. I don’t, actually,” Eddie laughs, mostly at himself. “I’m kinda dumb, in case you forgot.”
“You’re not dumb, Eds.”
“Stop being sweet. You’re deflecting.”
You concede with a small huff. “That
 That thing. With your mouth. When you pressed me against the wall and— please, don’t make me describe it, Eddie,” you ramble, then cut yourself off to whine.
He meets your grimace with a boyish grin. “I don’t know. I kinda like hearing you talk about it.”
“I’ll die,” you deadpan.
“You’re so dramatic.”
His words are harsh, but his pink smile is kind. He kisses you with it after — a smacking peck to the corner of your mouth that migrates rather quickly. He sprinkles his lips along your jaw and chin and neck. 
That’s where he lingers. 
Eddie finds your pulse point and goes a half-inch higher, just like he did while he was fucking you against the shower wall. You nearly came the first time he kissed you there. 
He sucks at the delicate skin until he leaves another faint mark. The feeling of his tongue and teeth on your newfound sweet spot makes your toes curl. It has you moaning out loud before you mean to.
His lips audibly smack when he pulls away.
“That thing?” he wonders, smiling down at you like he already knows the answer.
Your thighs clench together. Your bones are made of mush. “That thing,” you repeat in the affirmative.
“Well, if we’re sharing secrets
” Eddie singsongs, then leans in all close like he’s about to spill the latest gossip. His fingers spread out along your bare waist, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I really liked it when you got all mean.”
You hadn’t thought much of it, then — when Eddie edged you on the counter with his fingers and laughed when you writhed. 
You didn’t even let him make it up to you after, just sucked him off and told him he wasn’t allowed to touch you. “Don’t cum ’til I tell you to, understand?” you’d said. “Or I’m gonna get myself off, and you’re gonna watch.”
He was a good boy for you, though, and you let him fuck you in the shower.
Your nose scrunches in muted embarrassment. “I wasn’t being that mean, was I?”
“No. I mean, you could certainly get meaner
” Eddie assures with a shake of his head, then grins as his fingers crawl up your ribcage. You fight back a shiver. “Which I think could be preferable from time to time.”
“So, you want me to be more
 dominant?”
He shrugs a pale, freckled shoulder. “Yeah. Sometimes. I like watching you get all dumb for me, don’t get me wrong, but every time you get a little mean, I almost cum in my pants.”
The blatant confession makes you go slightly stupid. You just nod at him, lazy and unblinking. “Yeah. I can do that. You know, if that’s what you want.”
“I do want,” Eddie hums, matching your sloppy head shake. His nicotine-coated breath fans across your cheek. “Very, very much.”
“But not all the time, though, right?”
“No. Not all the time. Just
 sometimes— when the moment’s right or whatever.”
“Sure
”
Eddie’s grin broadens when you trail off. A faraway look glazes over your eye. His brows raise expectantly. “What’s that look for?”
You blink rapidly as you descend from the clouds. Shaking your head, you dismiss him. “Nothing. Nothing— I just
 I did kinda like not letting you come right away.”
“Yeah. Me too,” Eddie concurs, suddenly breathless.
Your gaze flits to his, mousy and twinkling. Your hands fidget above the covers. “And I kinda wanna try letting you cum and maybe
 not stopping
”
Eddie’s eyes go wide. His mouth opens to respond, but he forgets how to speak. He barely remembers to breathe.
“Is that
 Is that weird?” you ask, forcing a laugh at his unusual silence.
“No!” he blurts, sounding much louder in the honeyed quiet of his bedroom. “No, that’s
 That’s really hot, actually. Like, really hot.”
He zones out just like you had. The imagery of it all makes his stomach whirl. He’s done it to you a number of times — brought you to the edge and kept on pushing you over until you pushed him away. But he’d never thought about ever doing it to himself till now. 
Actually, there’s quite a lot of things he’s done to you that he might enjoy himself if he thinks about it.
The thought alone opens a world of possibility in his wild, wild head.
“Can I tell you about something I was thinking about the other day?” he wonders suddenly.
Though slightly startled by the blurted question, you nod. “Of course.”
His gaze flits away from yours. His hand fidgets at your waist, fingers softly scratching at your burning skin. “You know my handcuffs? The ones I clip on my jeans sometimes?”
Again, you nod.
“Well, I— I have the keys, you know? So it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if we— you know— if we used them
”
“On me?” you press, brows pinched in distant concern.
Eddie shakes his head immediately. “No. I know you don’t like that.”
“So
 on you?”
“Yeah. Maybe. If you want,” the boy mumbles, suddenly shy in a way you’ve only seen a handful of times — including earlier, when he was begging to cum in your mouth. “I just think it could be cool, you know? Like, you could tie me up and just
 use me. If you want,” he repeats.
“Use you?” you repeat with a soft laugh.
He shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t— I don’t really care about getting off as much as I care about you getting off, you know? I just
 wanna take care of you. Want you to take what you want.”
You open your mouth to respond only to find that all words have lost meaning. Your brain is a jumbled mess of alphabet soup. So you just nod, dumb at the very thought.
Eddie’s hand rises from the covers. His palm settles warm at your jaw. His fingers smell faintly of sex as his calloused thumb smooths across your chapped lips. “You could, like, rub yourself on my cock. Get yourself off on top of me,” he murmurs lowly to you, a quiet and crooked grin pulling at his mouth. “Wouldn’t that be metal?”
“Yeah
” you answer with a sigh, getting lost in the daydream right along with him. “Wouldn’t put you inside me at first, either. Not until you’re begging for it.”
His smile widens. “Exactly.”
“Then I’ll ride you until you make me cum.”
Eddie nods, egging you on. He tucks his face into your neck, if only to conceal how ardently he’s blushing. He hides his pink cheeks between your jaw and shoulder and kisses you where he knows it’ll drive you crazy. 
“Mhmm?” he urges, muffled.
You sigh a faint moan. Your fingers curl in his wild hair. You press your lips to his temple and continue. “And I’ll let you come, too. Eventually
 But I won’t stop.”
“Fuck,” he groans into your pulse.
“Not until you’ve filled me up three times—”
“Oh, fuck
”
You tug at his hair with a soft, stern touch you think you could learn to master for him. His lips click faintly when he parts from you. He blinks down at you with glassy chocolate eyes.
“Something like that?” you wonder, feigning innocence with a sweet-sounding lilt.
Eddie nods, sloppy and stupid. He stammers. “Yeah
 Yeah. Some—Something like that.”
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