#no more depressing workplace for me!!
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wildsaltair · 1 month ago
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this blog is a constant love letter to Maximus, sealed with a kiss and delivered in hopes that he will somehow understand that it’s an ongoing marriage proposal
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mariemariemaria · 1 year ago
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Does anybody else feel like mental health awareness has done very little to help them in material reality
#i was gonna say done nothing to help but that seemed too harsh#like there definitely is more knowledge about it now. maybe more people feel comfortable speaking about it which is good#but personally i don't feel that. like idk. workplaces will post about mental health awareness and then do nothing to help employees#the same w universities. my uni cut back the already meager mental health support#and then the government is doing absolutely fuck all as well#like idk im just back in a place i thought id gotten out of long ago and i still don't feel comfortable talking about it with people#maybe that's a me problem or maybe it's cultural or something idk. but in the 10 years ive been depressed (🫠) i don't think it's gotten a#whole lot better. teenagers are still dealing with the same shit i did and they're still not being taken seriously#women's mental health is not even spoken about.....anxiety depression sh eds etc are still ignored or seen as hysterical behaviour in women#or just normal esp with disordered eating. society hasn't changed people still want women to be stick thin and weak#like i know 10 years is a short time and there has been massive improvements in mh awareness if we look back over the past 50+ years#but idk i just think that it hasn't gotten better for a lot of people#i think specifically of belfast and like god. the amount of trauma there is the amount of homelessness the amount of substance abuse#drug abuse in particular that has gotten visibly worse over the past decade or so*#and i connect the dots n see the 2008 recession + a tory gov defunding the nhs + dehumanisation of homeless people & addicts + the troubles#+ ptsd + generational trauma + a negative peace + classism + paramilitary drug dealers + parties linked to those paramilitaries#and its like hmmmm i think we live in a society. and a mental health approach based on individual actions like journaling and meditation#isn't the way to go. or at least is not the be all and end all which is what a lot of mental health awareness raising seems to promote#*visibly worse on the streets. it was always a problem ofc but even a decade ago my parents never imagined it would be as bad as it is now#and it's become so normalised. i do think there's less individualism here than there seems to be elsewhere which can be good and can be bad#but i think we are becoming more and more individualistic. slowly. there's still a sense of community here but i do think it's changing#and callousness towards homeless people is one of the most obvious examples of this.#love when i put a wee asterisk in the tags of a post. like i have A Lot To Say lol
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officialrapunzelfitzherbert · 2 months ago
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watching hush and the lil "it could be one of your prophetic dreams or it could be part of the eternal mystery that is your brain." he says that soooooo lovingly like u can Hear the <3 emoji @ the end of that sentence
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welcometogrouchland · 2 years ago
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Bee and puppycat lazy in space I love you so so much it's not even funny
#ramblings of a lunatic#decided to rewatch it again bc the toh finale has had me in a tizzy and while I'm getting better#it's definitely been hard just floating about in fandom space knowing that the show is ending and that in the scenario we do get more of it#in another form ofc#it won't be for a long time yknow?#it's saddening and back in September when i was uh. Very Sad bapc was really there for me#i was out here ardently defending the netflix series' writing bc i genuinely thought it was really good#and i still do#but more than that this show is intensely comforting in a way i can't really place/describe#it's a magical girl show. it's a workplace comedy. 99% of the cast is 25 years or older. its a coming of age story.#it's has pastel and lo-fi art direction. it's cosmic horror. the main character is so caring and yet so selfish and also autistic#and a robot#all of her romantic relationships are intensely weird and frankly are her least interesting dynamics#her most interesting dynamics are with her roomate/pet who's actually a space pirate cursed to look like a marketable plushy#and with her 8 year old landlord who's mom was childhood best friends with her dad making them family in a sense#except they're not really. also they're foils (she's an immature adult he's a kid who tries to be more responsible than he is)#it's filled with intense melancholy and multiple characters suffer from un-talked about depression#it is one of the cutest and brightest shows i have ever seen (in a non-obnoxious or technicolor way) and has an intense air of whimsy#it kinda has a fandom but not a big one despite having an undeniable impact in online animation culture and a bit on online culture overall#I'm not captivated by it in a fandom-y sense but i am obsessed with it. it's like wuthering heights to me#i love this show
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rowarn · 1 year 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.
do not modify, translate, or repost
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i-miss-lotor · 2 years ago
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Little bit of a vent cause I can't sleep cause of anxiety and worry
#so you may or may not know that i have a twin brother and while we aren’t openly emotional toward each other#he's still the most important person in my life#and sure he can be an asshole and an egoistic bitch but i love him and want only good things for him#he got a three months job/internship at this place and yeah good opportunity#but my dad told me my brother complained to him already (he only started the job a few days ago) that the boss is a freak#ifk about his colleagues but i really hope they are chill and nice because the workplace seems like hell but i only heard small details#like what the fuck even they are back in fucking middle school and have to announce when you have to pee so you can go to the bathroom#the no phone policy is more understandable but it still pisses me off that he can't talk to anyone#idk why it hits harder there when i worked in customer service a bit and i wasn't allowed to have my phone with me either#which was also bit of a bs but whatever#and my dad said that that's just how life is and i just#i want to scream because no. that's not fair. life can’t be like this not woth a shit job and shit bosses and/or colleagues#leaving you in a shit position depressed and angry#that's not fair. he doesn’t deserve that. no one does.#and i know its making me more emotional bc its my brother but for fucks sake this is such a fucking bullshit#and dad's gf said that maybe he needs this to build him down a bit because he's too overconfident and egoistic#and i get it i do but he's also a very caring person even if he's headstrong#he pisses me off many times but he's a good person who aspires to change the world into a better place#he honestly really wants to do that and he's constantly learning and helping in his own way and he's so tired bc of all this responsibility#but he's still pushing forward behe wants to make wverything better for everyone#and it just hurts me that they think that's all there is to it and that he deserves it a bit#i know they lived differently from us but it's disheartening#my brother deserves good things in life like all of us#and he's working so very hard to make that happen#and i know he's strong and he will make it but it's fucking unfair and i want to help but can't#sobi just quietly try to at least make our home more liveable and have less things for him to worry about here#i hope he has nice people looking out for him in his job and i hope he has fun despite everything
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pathologicalreid · 4 months ago
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𖤓 margotober masterlist 𖤓
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in an act of insurmountable indecisiveness, i couldn't choose between flufftober, angstober, and kinktober. naturally, the only solution was to find a way to participate in all three. previews will be posted a week at a time because my indecisiveness extends to my inability to choose what fics to post.
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fluff 𖤓 angst 𖤓 smut
october 1st - caretaker
↳ in which you take care of your fiercely independent boyfriend after he gets shot in the knee
october 2nd - always, i'll wait
↳ in which Spencer dedicates himself to pulling you out of your depressive state
october 3rd - wake me from this dream
↳ in which you've been struggling to come to terms with the kiss between Spencer and Cat, and you've finally reached your breaking point
october 4th - with your hands tied
↳ in which you and Spencer continue your kink education, with a hands off approach
october 6th - the build up
↳ in which you and Spencer spend an entire day just waiting to make it to the hotel room
october 7th - what to expect
↳ in which you find yourself frustrated at the end of your pregnancy, and Spencer talks you off a ledge
october 8th - kryptonite
↳ in which all roads lead to Spencer's apartment, at least they do for jareau!reader
october 9th - don't get dark
↳ in which you disclose an attack to Spencer, and he assures you he's not going anywhere
october 10th - cocoon
↳ in which your life is put in danger during an otherwise routine case, and you haven't even told Spencer about the baby
october 11th - diphenhydramine
↳ in which reader has a hard time getting to sleep at night, leading to Spencer's step by step instruction of which hormones help you fall asleep
october 12th - all we ever do is talk
↳ in which Spencer and wife!reader fear they're getting boring, so the BAU sets them up with a hotel suite for Spencer's birthday
october 14th - sanctuary
↳ in which hotchner!reader reunites with the BAU after her time in WITSEC
october 15th - pyrophoric
↳ in which Spencer seeks the help of a chemist to help with his research into white phosphorous
october 16th - wavelength
↳ in which your son ends up in the hospital on one of the BAUs busiest nights of the year
october 17th - heart to heart
↳ in which hotchner!reader is set to have heart surgery, and Spencer can't help but be concerned for her
october 18th - love song for lady earth
↳ in which reader has her first experience with munch!spencer
october 19th - home run
↳ in which Spencer and jareau!reader finally get the opportunity to take the next step in their relationship
october 21st - ode to a conversation stuck in your throat
↳ in which Spencer tries to talk you out of taking a job across the country
october 22nd - here with me
↳ four times Spencer feels out of place in your house after being released from prison, and one time it's like he never left
october 23rd - burn notice
↳ in which your workplace is targeted by a group of extremists, and Spencer tries everything to keep you safe
october 24th - lock and key
↳ in which an act of violence - and subsequent serious injury - brings the truth to the surface and initiates a change
october 25th - in an arrow heart
↳ in which Spencer finds himself distracted by you during an otherwise routine outing to O'Keefe's
october 26th - come a little closer
↳ in which you and Spencer have sex for the first time since his release from prison, and more importantly, since Cat told him what happened in Mexico
october 28th - little duck
↳ in which Spencer is too excited about his first Halloween as a dad to remember he's supposed to be celebrating his birthday
october 29th - missed calls
↳ in which Spencer answers Hotch's daughter's phone when he calls to check in after a case
october 30th - prisoner
↳ in which you and Spencer conduct a custodial interview with a death row inmate - Spencer's first since he was released
october 31st - hysteria
↳ in which the BAU is called into a case in rural Appalachia when bodies start showing up in an abandoned insane asylum
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naburi · 5 months ago
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WILL YOU AVAIL ME AGAIN?
DAHYUN X READER
TAGS: DILDO PLAY, LUBE, BODY OIL, TONGUE PLAY, MISSIONARY, DOUBLE PENETRATION, DOGGY, ANAL
3.4K WORDS
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Midnight and still awake, browsing to find a video that will satisfy you for tonight. It seems like you're looking at identical girls, fake big boobs, slim limbs, small waists. They all look the same which you find boring, not until you found her video. Her smooth thick legs are spread to front her tight pink slit, pleasuring herself in front of the camera, only wearing a face mask to hide her identity. “She looks like my coworker”, you said. Milky white skin, thick legs, broad slim shoulders. You didn’t give too much thought to the similarities not until you saw your coworker later that day.
You’re a young corporate man who can’t find romance to have a meaningful connection. You thought finally finishing college will improve your sex life, but what you found is the opposite. Everyone is busy in the fast paced workplace. Nobody has the time to build relationships, you are all too tired to go out to satisfy your sexual life. That’s why you start to lean on watching adult content. It’s easy, quick, and convenient as you can all have different platforms to have access to numerous adult content creators.
“MS. KIM,” you caught yourself calling Ms. Kim's attention. The thought of the woman you watched last night flashes on your mind. Dahyun looks back, “Hi, Mr. y/n, can I help you?,” she asked politely while still baffled you shouted her name. “I… I… No, I don’t have anything to say,” you say nervously. You don’t even know why you called her name. Feeling embarrassed, you apologize to Dahyun and quickly go back to your cubicle. The woman was left standing processing what just happened.
“It’s her right?” You said to yourself, rushing back home, not even bothered to change clothes. You pull out your phone to go back to the website you found the video. You found her page and surfed through her contents. Her first upload was 6 months ago. She goes from posting just the bottom half of her body, cropped from shoulder up, to revealing her head which still keeps her identity with a white face mask. She consistently uploads every week, most of her videos are just herself playing with her slit with different dildos, she also posts a quick video teaser having an intercourse but you need to subscribe to her page to have access to her adult contents.
Dahyun has a great image in your company. She's the youngest but already has few promotions due to her work ethic and dedication. There are rumors that her quick ascension to the corporate ladder is not because of her hard work but due to what she can do for you after work hours. The rumors didn’t hit the ground enough because of how well she befriended everyone in the company. Her young angelic face helps but what caught everyone’s heart is her bubbly personality that shines bright in the dull and depressing workplace.
It’s been a week now, you took every instance to get an interaction with the company’s princess. From personally passing some documents, to having conversations with someone in her department. Dahyun is not in the same department as you thus making your investigation more complicated. You thought about stalking her social media accounts but all are in private. You started befriending her close coworkers but good things about her are the only thing they talk about. Finding proof that they are the same person seems like an impossible task thus you finally gave up. Nothing would change if you prove that they are the same person, it’s not like you will snitch on the company’s princess after all.
Heavy rain pours just as you’re about to clock out. You and your coworkers are standing outside of the entrance waiting for the rain to die down. A white SUV pulls up in front of you, the driver’s window rolled down, its Ms. Kim, “come inside, I'll drop you off at the subway station.” Some of your coworkers who also take a subway with you ride the SUV. Everyone is too shy to take the passenger seat including you. “You can’t all fit in the back, one should sit beside.” She said, nobody what’s to go in front but they manage to convince you. Sitting tightly on the passenger seat, your colleagues at the back keep asking questions to Ms. Kim, as they also what’s to get close to her, while you’re sitting quietly due to shyness.
Dahyun’s phone that’s on the dashboard lit up revealing a notification. You notice a familiar application icon and the text that says she has a new subscriber. This is the proof that you're looking for, Ms. Kim is an adult content creator. Your colleagues in the back didn’t notice the notification and Dahyun just casually turned down her phone, thinking you don’t know what the notification is all about. Everyone is thanking Ms. Kim for the ride, She noticed how happy you are but not giving more thoughts about it.
Arriving at home, you now have more reason to watch all her contents, you're watching the company’s princess pleasure herself. Everyone's beloved coworker is in an adult site spreading her legs for views and money. It's been a few nights now and her masturbation videos became repetitive. Your high needs satisfaction thus you now subscribe to her paid contents to watch her get fucked by different men, from local Koreans to foreigners, she let herself get fucked to make an content. Her most viewed content is where she pours body oil all over her body which highlights her white skin. Her glowing white oiled up skin, made the sex more erotic. Her buttocks made a heavenly sound as the guy is hitting her from behind, her small oiled boobs get massaged sensually before she takes the cock inside her again. Dahyun wails and moans under her face mask as she gets fuck harder. The few bucks you spend for her content is worth it.
You smile and interact with Ms. Kim during the day while touching yourself watching her contents at night, this has become your routine until she has not been in the office for a few consecutive days now. Nobody knows why she’s absent for a few days now and her manager doesn’t want to disclose her reason. Watching her videos doesn’t hit the mark anymore. You’re about to go sleep but a notification pops up on your screen. Dahyun just dropped a new subscription based content. You can subscribe to her live stream where you can select what kind of dildos she will use and what position she will do a live masturbation. How this works is you're gonna give her gifts during the stream for her to follow your instructions.
She announced that the live stream will start tomorrow at midnight. You’re one of the first subscribers that’s in her live, her legs spread open just like the first time you saw her content. Her one hand is caressing her slit while her other hand is fondling her breast, Different sizes of dildos and lubes lined up to her right side. One viewer starts giving gifts with his comments on the stream. She asked Dahyun to use a thick dildo. She lubes the dildo and slowly inserts it in her slit. The thickness of it gives her a hard time as her slit didn’t even get to warm up. Few attempts pass by and she finally gets to put it all inside her, she starts to moan as she’s pumping the thick dildo inside her.
“Use the tentacle dildo and sit on it,” one commented. Dahyun reads this as she gets notified for the gift. She poured lube to the dildo and started stroking it to spread the lube. She sticks it in front of the screen as she slowly impales herself in the tentacle shaped dildo. The unusual shape gives Dahyun a different sensation making her more horny, she grabs both of her boobs as she’s sitting up and down to the dildo. She started to play with her boobs without even an instruction. She’s massaging her under boobs upward then focusing her fingers on her nipples. One of the viewers commented that she should use oil as she’s caressing her boobs. Dahyun follows, quickly pouring oil on her chest, smothering it all over her boobs, her boobs massages get more erotic due to how smooth she caresses her two mounds.
“Use the black dildo, in your anal, sit on it” a viewer commented. The black dildo is noticeably inspired by a big black cock, it's shaped like one and in great detail. Dahyun uses two hands just to pour lube all over the dildo. She turned her back to the camera as she’s slowly sitting on it. Her big butt is now in full view, the sight of her ass taking the big black dildo is too erotic, Dahyun groans as her ass is getting stretched. The viewers are praising her on how erotic she is, they commented that her moans are heavenly. They keep giving gifts even without instructions as they are pleased with what she’s doing.
To your surprised, Ms. Kim is finally back in the office. Everyone greets her and wants to know the reason for her absences. You're happy to see your colleague but you’re too embarrassed to greet her as you know the real reasons why she’s having a hard time walking around the office. You heard that she’s saying to your coworkers that she has a sprained ankle is the reason she can’t walk straight. Nobody bats an eye as the company is just glad to finally see their bubbly princess.
You thought everything goes back to normal but it’s been a week now and Ms. Kim has nowhere to be found, her manager said that she filed for a long leave due to personal reasons. You took the subway with heavy feet as you’re saddened by the news, it seems like you developed an affectionate attitude towards your colleague and just wants to see her do well again. After taking a bath as an attempt to lift your mood. You saw a notification from Dahyun’s page. She’s offering a VIP subscription where you can meet her face to face. This subscription comes with a hefty price and you need to abide by 5 sets of conditions: you can’t remove her face mask during the session, you can’t asked for an oral sex, you can’t ask for her personal information, you can’t record anything during the session, you should wear protection during intercourse.
You didn’t waste any time and avail her VIP subscription even though it’s worth half of your monthly salary. After sending your payment. You received a message where she sends you a time and date where you can meet her. It’s on Saturday afternoon, in one of the hotels in the city. The sudden realization that Dahyun will know that you’re one of her subscribers sent you into a frenzy. You don’t want to cancel your meet up as this golden opportunity may not knock again.
It’s Friday night, you do a quick shopping for self care materials as you want to look good and smell good when you finally do it with Dahyun. You are embarrassed to buy packs of condoms as it’s been ages since you last bought one. It’s the day of the meet up. She sends you a message that she will wait for you in the room. You're now in front of the hotel, standing nervously while wearing… a face mask. You plan to also somehow conceal your identity to Ms. Kim because you don’t want to destroy your working relationship with her. This plan fails miserably as Dahyun can’t hide her shock expression the moment she opens the room door.
There’s an awkward air in the hotel room. It seems like the two of you might not do it out of embarrassment. The silence in the room was broken by a pop up message on her phone. You notice how her expression changed as she read the message. Whatever is in the message is enough for Dahyun to ignore that her coworker will share the same bed as her. She laid her conditions in a serious tone as she removed her clothing, sitting naked on the center of the bed waiting for you to make a move on her.
You strip down your clothes in nervousness while only leaving the face mask. You awkwardly sit in front of the naked woman. You look in her eyes to see her expressions, but she doesn’t have any, it looks like she’s ready for whatever you want to do with her. You first touch her boobs, your two hands awkwardly reach to her mounds, carefully playing it. Dahyun knows that both of you will get satisfied with you still being cautious. “Mr. Y/n, I know it’s you, you can remove your face mask and do me as you please,” she said finally addressing the elephant in the room.
Dahyun’s message wakes you out of your nervousness. You’re here fuck the company’s princess and that’s what you do, you remove your face move and instructed her to lay down. The woman that you have been watching every night is not laying down in front of you. You position yourself on top of her reaching her two boobs again but this time, caressing them like how they deserve. Dahyun's boobs perfectly fit her body, and shaped her body to great proportions. The woman groans on how aggressive you mauled her boobs but you can’t help yourself due to how soft they are. Her pink nipples that you saw her playing on her content are now in the tip of your own fingers.
Dahyun yelps as you play her nipples. This encourages you to use your tongue to pleasure one of them. Flicking her nipple in a circular motion she grabs your hair to press your head even closer to her boobs. You notice that Dahyun also brings her toys with her. You reached out for her bag on the side table, from watching her oiled body to being the one pouring it to her. You pour directly on her nipples which caught her off guard by the wet sensation. From her nipples to her boobs, you massaged her body, smearing the oil in the process. Her white milky skin glistening, her smooth skin gets slippery making it easy to caress the rest of her body.
You pour oil down to her legs as well, massaging her thick legs, your fingertips move dangerously close to her slit which elicits a gasp from Dahyun as she’s anticipating it. You notice how she got wet after you massage her legs. You lick her slit up to taste your colleague. Dahyun keeps moaning as your tongue explores her slit. From her slit up to her clit, you lick every part of it, making your goal to eat Dahyun well. Your tongue focuses on flicking her clit, the woman jolts her hips in pleasure. You hold down her waist to keep her in place while continuing your barrage on her clit. You notice wetness in your chin due to Dahyun getting more wet. You hardened your tongue now and inserts in and out of her slit. The woman pushes your head down even more, while her other hand is stimulating her clit. You suck and lick your colleagues till she shakes her hips due to orgasm.
Dahyun is laying down letting her orgasm flow till she feels your tongue is now exploring her ass. Her ass is as pink as her slit, you spit on it as lube before you slowly lick her ass. Her legs started to move uncontrollably as she’s not used to her ass getting licked. From soft circular motions to fast in and out of her ass, every touch of your tongue elicits a loud moan from Dahyun. You notice she used one of her dildos to rub her slit while you're eating her down there. This signals to you that she’s ready.
You stand up to wear a condom while Dahyun can’t wait as she’s already shoving a dildo in her slit while she’s waiting for you. You smirk as your naughty colleague can’t wait any longer. Spreading her legs up. You position your cock in front of her slit that still has a dildo inside it. You pull the dildo out of her and it reveals how her slit forms into a hole that accommodates the size of the dildo. Dahyun is looking at your cock seamlessly entering her slit. The feeling of a warm cock can’t beat any size or shape of a dildo she thought. You hold her small waist as you gradually quicken up the pace. Hands on her face masks to cover her mouth, she’s embarrassed how her coworker can make her moan this load. Her muffled moan only adds to your fuel to fuck the company’s princess like she’s your slut.
You hear Dahyun calling your name through her covered mouth, her walls tightening, the woman is near her orgasm. You now hold her wide hips to get a better grip of her as you rammed your cock deep inside her as face as you could. Dahyun let go of her mouth to let a loud moan echo all throughout the room. You let her orgasm again while your cock is still inside her. Pulling out, you want to keep her slit stimulated. You put the dildo back inside her as you asked Dahyun to masturbate using her dildo while you fuck her from behind. You position her in a doggy position, her ass still wet from your tongue assault earlier on. She felt your tip bump in the entrance of her ass. Dahyun’s face is in the bedsheet, one hand plowing the dildo in her slit, she felt your warm cock slowly entering her ass. The woman groans lowly as she’s taking it all deep in her. Dahyun tight ass is no Joke, even though this ass takes the biggest of dildos, it’s still tight like it’s begging to get worn down. Dahyun has a big white ass which is impaled with your cock. Every slap to her meaty ass leaves a red mark of your hand. You both groaned as you started to move your cock in and out of her. You remember the endless nights you watched this big ass of her get fucked by dildos or other men, but for this moment, it’s yours to destroy. You plow your cock slowly and deep in her ass making sure your tip reaches as deep as your can. Dahyun is now biting her face mask, muffling her cries of pleasure. You began to move your cock at a quicker pace which made Dahyun speak inaudibly. She can’t move her dildo anymore as she’s getting too stimulated on how you fuck her ass. You’re now maintaining a quick pace plowing her ass, Dahyun cries your name as all she knows now is how your cock pleasuring all parts of her tight ass. She tried to reach for your arm that is holding her hips to signal you that she can’t take it anymore. Dahyun is about to turn into a mess. Her body drops on the bed but you still keep fucking her ass. Dahyun doesn't know how long it has been but she noticed when you asked her if you can cum on her back. She can only muffled a “Yes,” before you remove your cock in her ass and spray paint her back with all your cum.
The woman fell asleep for a few minutes before sitting up like she’s in a hurry. She asked if she could leave now, still catching your breath. You agreed to leave together. “I need money, my brother is sick, he will undergo operations next week,” Dahyun said as she’s driving you to the subway station. Without asking a question, she answered what you’re terrified to ask. You listen to her story while she’s driving you to the subway station. Her parents are too old to work, her family is only dependent on her. She asked if you can keep this between the two of you. She said she will go back to work after her brother’s operation.
“Will you avail me again?” Dahyun jokingly asked.
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letters-to-lgbt-kids · 11 months ago
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My dear lgbt+ kids,
Someone requested some advice on whether to openly tell people you are mentally ill/neurodivergent/invisibly disabled or not.
There's some research that suggests that, for example, autistic people are more likely to identify as lgbt+ than their non-autistic peers - so this is absolutely a topic that belongs on a lgbt+ blog and I'm sure there are a lot of you who had to make that decision (and probably keep having to make it as coming-outs of any sort are rarely one-and-done!).
In fact, I had/have to make that decision myself! As an autistic person with depression and anxiety, I could tell you now why I personally decided to be open about all those diagnoses - but the right decision for me isn't necessarily the right decision for you as my life isn't yours.
So, what I'll do instead is to write down a general list with (potential) pros and cons, and I encourage you to nitpick it. Personalize it, take some time to decide how much, if at all, each point weighs in your own decision. There's no right or wrong answer here. It's all about your highly individual situation, about your safety and comfort.
Reasons not to be open about it:
It may put you at risk for various sorts of hate, discrimination, negative stigma and bad treatment
It may put a burden on you to educate others and discuss any misconceptions or myths they believe in, including potentially hurtful or disstressing ones (maybe even fruitlessly so which may cause frustrations or fights)
It may change the way people treat you, even in well-meant ways (babying you, pitying you, trying to "help" against your wishes etc.)
It may feel like a loss of privacy, make you feel "naked" or emotionally vulnerable, make you worry more about the way others perceive you etc.
Reasons to be open about it:
It may help others understand you or your behavior better, which may have positive effects on your relationships
It may allow you to ask for support and help more easily (either from friends and loved ones or in the workplace, school etc.)
It may make you feel empowered and help you accept/love yourself as a disabled person more
It may contribute to making your specific diagnosis more visible in society (which may also make you feel pride in breaking down stereotypes and supporting your community)
It may discourage people from assigning wrong or hurtful labels to you (either armchair-diagnosing you or labeling you as weird, crazy, lazy, gross etc.)
It's important to keep in mind that some people do not have the option to make this decision for themselves, for example because they have highly visible symptoms or they are in a position where their caretakers make the decision for them. This adds another layer to why we can't judge one decision as better or worse than the other - it's not always their own decision.
With all my love,
Your Tumblr Dad
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byfulcrums · 2 months ago
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mtmte is the best comic ever and i can prove it to you
There is, of course, the canon mpreg
Grimlock, known Decepticon killer, gets adopted into a group known as The Worst Decepticons Alive, has a baby with them
The bloodthirsty, mentally ill guy that lowkey caused Megatron to go all evil adopts a bunch of red scraplets
Ratchet steals his ex-coworker's hands and keeps them for himself
On the hands: Before that, he would hit his with a hammer because they didn't work properly. Right before a surgery
Man experiences police brutality, decides to take over the universe
Rodimus' nonsensical doodles turn out to be a map leading to heaven
Rodimus also gets crucified
The therapist of the ship, also known as the most forgettable guy ever, is actually God with a capital G
God befriends a guy doing everything in his power to prove the existence of the afterlife
God befriends an atheist
God almost gets sacrificed
Remember the Worst Decepticons Alive? Their dumbest member (who genuinely believes squirrels live in minds) created the cure for lobotomies
There's a random man's corpse sticking out of the engine and also a kinda-vampire
To turn vampires back into regular people you have to hit them real hard in the head
The leader of the DJD runs his group of bloodthirsty killers and torturers like an office workplace
They get scolded by the tiny medic they could squish and are terribly afraid of her
You get to know how the war actually started! It was because of a curly straw
Character goes back in time to stop the war because he's gay and ends up accidentally causing it
Multiple transfem characters!! All of the girls are trans!!!! And most of the boys are gay!!!!
They made STARSCREAM the ruler of the world
There's an entire chapter dedicated to that one time they were chased by a planet
Local Girl's Best Friend Dies, Responds To That By Putting His Brain In Her Eye Socket
They steal a guy's corpse, increase his size with an experimental thingy an amoral scientist created, and use his alt mode as a spaceship when theirs gets stolen
There's an Autobot spy that communicates to them by shooting a crew member
Even the serious panels have meme potential (see: Overlord and Rodimus)
Whirl's general existence makes the world a worst place, which makes the comic even better
"What gives? I'm normal again! Well, relatively speaking."
[Singing] "No one cares! No one cares what you have to say~"
Whirl making a depressed Rodimus so angry that he goes to get by by lighting (I actually can't remember if this is how it went lmao, it might've been the other way around)
When he told everyone about the time he "killed" someone in their sleep and shoved their wand up their ass
Brainstorm creates a button that allows the characters to break the fourth wall. Swerve presses it and becomes a narrator
One of the most painful slow burns EVER. Jesus
Their first actual interaction consisted of Cyclonus dropping Tailgate because he was annoying
Then: "I knew you'd find me"
Violent warlord that has destroyed multiple planets and planned to conquer the universe gets legally mandated into becoming the ship's captain, much to Roddy's despair
At some point, Megatron starts to sound just like Rodimus when talking to Magnus and it makes him want to kill himself
OP gives Roddy and Meg the shared title of "co-captain" so Rodimus wouldn't get upset
Oh, here's a thing: Tumblr is canon in TF IDW
The Scavengers (Worst Decepticons) go to the real world as TF toys and it's never mentioned ever again
Warriors who have endured six million years of war, powerful and feared, freak out when the light goes out
Space Jesus 2 demands an audience with God, gets hit by lightning and disappears
Character survives a terminal illness by dying
Ultra Magnus gets drunk. He's a giggler. He also starts crying
And more!!!!
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honestsycrets · 1 year ago
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omg sex worker miguel o’hara? 🤧🫡
grande | sex worker!miguel o'hara x assistant!reader
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❛ pairing | sex worker!miguel o'hara x assistant!reader.
❛ type | extended drabble; 2kish words; explicit
❛ summary | you probably shouldn't tell a man that he's small. even if you've known him a very long time-- and especially if you see him fuck every day.
❛ tags | sex worker au, improper use of belts, male receiving oral, slight disagreements, workplace argument, Spanish is not translated
❛ sy’s notes | ...i now have an escort!miggy x rich girl!reader in my drafts to be finished at some other time because it became a bit depressing and plotty. needed something light to get back into writing for a bit.
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He doesn’t play fair. Most women understand that about him. They know Miguel to be the man who bends the delicate boundaries of rules for a good fuck— be it a place, be it a position. Miguel would do what he had to for a better clip. 
“Miggy?” You said, hands behind your hips. He should have known then that you were up to some shit. You hover somewhere in his vision with a sugar-sweet smile. You’ve worked with him alongside him since he chose this profession. Most days, he watched you sit by your favorite window that cast a warm midday sun, tacking away with fingers that flew across the keys. Some days, you’re watching him-- mounted on another woman. He cocked his thick brow at you. 
“What?”
“I… it’s just… fuck. Elena had something come up.” 
“Like I said she would."
Miguel set his fist to his cheek, swirling his protein shake in the other hand. This woman was your idea, not his. There’s a reason your voice choked on the words. You were anxious about your news the way your hands rounded to the front of your body, clammy hands plastered onto your tablet.
“I just thought—“
“I know what you thought. You thought my followers would like her.” He took a swig of his drink. “Not if she’d like me.”
That was exactly the issue. You do too much worrying about what the viewer likes, not enough about what he would like. He was well aware from every ping from Elena and the contorted little face you made that she was scared of him. As to why, he was not certain. He's grumpy, not dangerous.
“She does like you— it’s just your dick,“ you fumbled with your tablet, nearly spilling it over on his lap. “I told her you weren’t that big. She’s just— dramatic.”
“Not that big?” 
You’re not winning this fight. He threw a look at the tablet, finding your suggestion more egregious than your description of it. Too thick! She complained. He’d stretch her out. Or, so she feared. He sincerely doubted that. She took enough dick that if that were the case, she’d have an issue long before now.
He’s not that big in real life. All that big dick crap is just marketing. I see his dick all the time. 
Then you fuck him!
His mouth flattened into an unmoveable line, clearly unappeased with your response. For a moment, he did not move. He did not fidget. Nor respond. He simply stared down at you with those sharp, unhumored eyes. What little security you had in convincing him flitted away. He abandoned his drink on the table and leaned in close. Close enough that his thick strands of dark hair tickle your skin. Enough that you can smell the perfumed oil that lingered on his tanned skin. He always smelled so good.
“Until you’ve fucked me onscreen,” he brushed past. “Don’t tell women who will what I’m like.” 
Oh. You made a mistake.
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You don’t like it when Miguel is angry. 
Most days coming to work, Miguel has a hot coffee on the table for you as you edit his finest ball-busting work. When the days stretch a little too long, he tells you when enough is enough. And, if you were lucky, he hovered at the stove and made you something to eat. It gave you a perfect sight of his toned shoulders and the long column of his spine-- which he so graciously allowed you to drool over day by day. Today, there was no half-dressed hunk making your delicious meals in sight. 
He’s still angry. You pulled up his socials, scrolling through the responses to the latest video. A teasing blooper of a clip with a woman with Miguel’s length halfway down her throat, coughing up his seed all over her chest as you mistakingly giggle behind the screen. 
“Keep laughing and see what happens,” Miguel drifted to yours, eyes hazy and soft, chest rising violently with the sundering sensation of his orgasm. He watched for the span of only a few heartbeats, a decadent warning exchanged between the two of you immeasurable before the camera. He reached for a tissue.
“Perdóname, papi.” 
Does anyone know if they’re fucking? A user asked. It’s as if Miguel’s co-star was but a fading character. Any chance of seeing him fuck her?? Whats her @? 
She’s just his employee.
Need this.
Just an employee. The words pulled on a string of connection that could at any time be cut. Miguel had no interest in wielding the scissors to do so, rather, over the past few years the string only became stronger. He’ll get over it. You stared at the reflection of your poorly made cup of cafecito, undrunken because no one made it like Miguel made it. He’s there, hovering around the sink, but you feel all the more alone in the room. Producer, editor, friend-- your eyes fell back to the cup. 
“Are you done?” Miguel hovered by your coffee cup. It was cool to the touch. 
“Ah. Sí.” 
You gazed up at him, regret seeping from your features. If you apologized yet again, he’d simply leave the room. There are no good words. No ones that would make sense, no words that would… be good enough to make him come back when he’s in this mood, unmoveable and distant. You’re so close to him-- but all alone.
He takes the cup away.
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“What’s the meaning of this?”
Miguel dropped his phone on your office desk. It thumped over the tablespace, his expression morphing into something wrong. You turn his phone upright, knowing the contents before the information actually registers in your mind. 
“It’s a picture of me,” you closed the top of your laptop and whirled around in the chair, knocking your knees against his. He’s closer than he’s been in days. 
“Yes. But what else?” he rumbled. 
You’re not stupid, remembering the launch of merch that Miguel sincerely doubted anyone would be seriously interested in. How many people wore a male sex worker’s merch? This was all your idea, of course. Your lip is bitten fat, stripped of skin. Your eyes wandered across the table to the cabinet with an array of different cameras. Miguel rapped his scarred knuckles over the table, blocking your desperation for an escape. He wanted a substantial answer.
“You told me to make sure it sold.” 
“And that meant model with your ass out on my page.”
“You don’t like it?” 
"Dios," that’s not the point. He breathed a forceful breath, navigating your rolling chair up against the bed in the room. Typically the bed was used for a late night at the office or one of Miguel’s performances with any number of women you cast him with. Or, as you preferred, when he masturbates by himself-- squeezing his hand along his length as your phantom hand poured more wet lubricant over his cock. The sheets are always stained and consequentially changed.
“I don’t like that they know what you look like,” Miguel supplied, his chest cresting into a fall. His gaze fell to your hands, settled in a clasp over your short skirt. Now he knew what you looked like. “Do you know how many requests I have to…”
“Fuck me.” 
“Sí,” Miguel said, your name dying on his tongue. “To fuck you.” 
“Then do it. You have a camera.”
What-- his gaze read. It’s in the way his brow pushed together, how his lips fell just so lightly apart. He would say something more, but your hands are on his dark slacks, tracking up toward his sturdy leather belt. In only an hour or so, Miguel was meant to record with Elena, who, you convinced. He should be saving his stamina for that, not this. Even so, his hands hovered atop your own, grunting slightly in response, unable to stop what you were doing. 
“Don’t ask me to ruin you.”
“I think you already have,” you murmured, finding his soft cock. You stroked him through his pants, drawing along his length, getting him where you want him. With every scene you recorded, you knew what Miguel liked. You knew he liked scenes where he could take his time, as short and far between as they were. You want that too. You drew the belt loose and unbuttoned the little spry button. So close, you could almost taste him.
“Are you going to record it?” You gestured toward the desk, pulling his cock into the free air. He’s an impressive length, just as you recall, you think he has to be to be an adult actor. The real treat is Miguel’s thick girth, swirled with delicious veins. You had seen his dick at least a hundred times, delighted in watching him meet his orgasm time and time again, and touched yourself to the thought of being just like his many girls. 
“No,” Miguel pulled his belt from the loops and tugged it around his wrist. He let the other hand find the back of your head, weaving through smooth locks of hair, guiding your lush lips to his cock. “This is all for me.” 
When he spoke like that, all you wanted was to make him happy. Your moist mouth separated, warm breath tickling the length that he shoved into your wet mouth. Maybe Elena had a point, you think, suckling around his length once, drawing to his fat tip. He hums in response, bucking back deep into your mouth. Miguel didn't want to wait, causing you to gag over his length, a terrible coughing resonating about his dick. Now that he had you here, he would show you how wrong you were.
“I thought I wasn’t that big,” Miguel’s hand left your head, stretching his belt across the back of your neck. Bucking forward, you gagged around his length, scratching his clothed hip for some mercy. If he wasn’t so big-- you could take it, couldn’t you? “Just like that. Hm? Cómo?” 
He was gracious enough to allow you off his cock, gasping for air as you were, the depth of his plunging cock having pricked a few oversensitized tears on the sides of your eyes. You’re beautiful like that, overwrought and needy. Your heart rattled in the confines of your ribcage, wheezing as you jerked him pathetically. How certain you look now, tugging on him for a moment of relief.
“I’m sorry--” 
“Ya sé.” 
Your eyes fluttered shut, guiding him back into your mouth. Your cheeks hollowed out, drawing him in fast and hard. If not for the belt around the back of your neck, he might have stumbled, stuck between the warmth of your mouth and the pleasured groans tickling his length. You’re well-accustomed to what the girls do, stretching your palm around his dick.
“Harder,” he remarked, throwing a half-chewed-up curse aside. Unlike with the other girls, he’s weak before the pleasure, usually focused and refined, his jaw clenches. He’s gotten weak-- has it been that long since he’s had sex outside of the roll of the camera? 
“Miggy,” you pulled back, your sloppy tongue swirling about his fat tip. He catches the moan in his chest, refusing to let it crest over, not yet. His eyes catch yours, muscular stomach flexing, he’s listening. “I want to taste you. Can I taste you?” 
You’re such a good niña. Miguel forces you back to your rightful place on his cock, the band stretched so tight around his fists that he might break it. Your name becomes an unbearable, pleasurable slur on his tongue. He’s a trained man, knowing to cum when you say to come on each shoot. In many ways, he's your trained dog: cuming when he's told to.
His length pulsed in your mouth for one final thrust before he gave you what you wanted, strands of release spraying the back of your warm little mouth. You suckled him up, even as he tried to pull free. You cleaned his cock, sucking him nice and clean. Miguel brushed off your attempt to zip him away.
“Don’t bother,” Miguel breathed, pulling at the black-tie strapped to his throat. His white dress shirt was soaked, causing him to roll the sleeves up to his elbows. His voice dropped, well-fucked out but nearly ready for another round. “Your cunt is next.” 
“But Elena is on her w--” 
“Fuck her,” Miguel waved his hand, slouching into your chair. “Fix the camera. We have a video to shoot.” 
If nothing else-- now you can tell her how big he really is.
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yjhzies · 4 months ago
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“Cheers to youth.” — YJH
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⸝⸝୭ ˚. fluff . comfort . angst
⋆ pairings : jeonghan x gn!reader ⋆ warning : reader being scolded by their boss, crying (there shouldn't be any more, lmk! <3) ⋆ wc : 0.8k [✉️] · Always portrayed as "perfect" feels like a nightmare now. But with Jeonghan, everything will be fine.
⋆ - note : got scolded by the teacher for no valid reason and my inner writer came out ^^ (ty ig and welcome to depression era) | trying angst for the first time, I think I'm going insane :( stay safe jeonghannie 🌷
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"Love?" Your boyfriend's voice was soft, and everything you needed to hear after a disastrous day at work.
You gripped your phone tighter and gathered the courage to respond.
"Hm, hannie,"
"Are you almost off work? Do you want me to pick you up?"
"I'm almost done with work, it's okay, I'm fine." Your voice breaks with the words 'I'm fine', because you were clearly not. But, he didn't have to know.
You, who is known as the 'Perfect' one in your workplace, were feeling like a failure. Not that you liked the way people labelled you as 'perfect', but you did want to meet the expectations of your boss. You've always had this habit - feeling the need to meet people's expectations, afraid of disappointing others. This, something you have had since school days, was becoming a nightmare.
Your boss was rumoured to have had a break up; something that is completely none of your business - you knew. So when he lashed out at you, simply because of his gloomy mood, you were in disbelief.
"I heard you've been focusing on everything except for work? I remember the time you were considered as the perfect manager, but now? I doubt that. You've been lacking behind everything. From doing the files to arranging the meetings properly. If you keep doing this, I doubt you'll be here in my company for long."
Those words haunted your mind, and it kept repeating. For no reason. You knew you did nothing wrong, you knew you were not in the wrong here.
But words hurt so much.
Especially when you're trying your best.
Especially when you feel you've done enough, and you hear this.
"Are you sure?" Jeonghan asked, worried because you have had to stay at work for long, and it was unusual.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
Silence soon followed, and you took a heavy breath to stop the tear threatening to roll down your cheeks.
"Are you really, baby?" He asked softly. As if he knew everything despite not knowing anything.
You didn't expect that question. All the tears you had held back finally escaped your glossy eyes, and you broke down. Right in the middle of a bus stand, but thankfully, no one was there.
"Baby?" Jeonghan felt a surge of panic wash over him. The sounds of your muffled sobs echoed in his ears through the phone.
The last thing Jeonghan wanted was you crying all alone.
You slowly lowered your hand, the phone in your hand dropping to the floor as you continued weeping. There was no one around to help you. To ask if you were okay.
"Please, baby," he softly pleaded. You were there alone. All by yourself. "Please answer me."
He grabbed his car keys, opened the location tracking app that you both agreed to use in emergencies and rushed out of his apartment. The drive was gonna take at least 20 minutes, but he couldn't care less.
All he knew right now was that he had to be by your side.
"I'll be there, don't worry, okay?" He tried to calm you down, despite panicking himself.
Everything faded into the background, as you finally let all the feelings burst out in the form of tears. All the taunting you had endured throughout the day was driving you insane.
It wasn't your fault. You did nothing.
You don't know when time passed by, and Jeonghan's car pulled up on the road - but you felt a hint of relief at the sight of him.
He got out of the car in a hurry, running up to the bus stop where you stood. Very slowly, you turn your gaze on him and he catches a glimpse of you - puffy eyed, cheeks red with warmth, tremors still coursing through your body, dried tears that were being replaced by fresh ones.
"Hannie..." You choked out, sobbing.
Without wasting a second, he threw his arms around your torso, engulfing you in a warm hug. He rested one of his hands on the back of your head, caressing it, as he wrapped his other arm around your waist protectively.
You've never felt so secure and safe in someone's embrace before.
You closed your eyes, placing your hands on either side of his shoulders, and began sobbing again. But this time, you knew Jeonghan was there to protect you.
"Shh, I'm here, it's all gonna be okay." His voice was barely above a whisper, as if those words were only meant to be heard by you. So soft, so loving, and it conveyed so many emotions to you.
He felt like home. Like the warm hug and kiss you crave after a long tiring day at work. Like the cold, but relaxing drop of rain on your skin.
"I'm- I'm sorry..."
"It's okay, don't be, please."
You're grateful. So grateful that you both don't have to know the reason to simply be by their side. The reason can be unknown, or known later, but what matters is that you're there for each other.
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– taglist : @gyubakeries @k1eev @haowrld @armycarat2612
[check out masterlist - pinned post to be added to the taglist!]
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jksian · 3 months ago
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When the end comes
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You loved him with all your heart, held onto the person you knew will never be yours; but, the only regret you had was, you weren't able to tell him about those feelings.
Pairing: best friends brother JK x reader
Genre: ANGSTY, unrequited love
W/c: mid length?
warnings: depressing thoughts and implied suicidal thoughts, character dea*h, workplace harrasment, illness, family drama and step-parent, one sided love from oc' s side, tattoo artist Jk, age gape
A/N- This story is incomplete and I don't intend to continue it, but I'm still posting it because I wanted to share it with you guys and since many of you expressed your desire to read it :⁠-⁠)
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It was during the autumn season when he first met you.
Not in a literal sense; but that was the day he thought he finally come to knew you. A side of you, he never thought he would be able to witness.
Just like the sight in front of him right now.
He did not even fathom the idea of seeing you like this. Beautiful eyes which once shined so brightly under the sun; are now closed. Not even a hint of flickering of your eyelashes which you usually do while being extremely nervous.
Now, autumn has returned again; but, despite the comforting warmth of the cozy weather being replaced by the harsh wind blowing away the leaves from the trees, creating the atmosphere unbearably gloomy and dull.
Because the warmth is gone, along with you.
15 years ago…
“Why is he coming, now!? Fuck, I have to meet Sam!” Jia was beyond frustrated after knowing that her brother was coming to picked her up from the school.
Both you and Jia had been friends since your childhood. From being scolded by teachers to helping each other in anything and everything and being the ‘crime in partners’ duo, everyone in your school knew you two were inseparable.
She was always been a free-spirited girl. Generous and helpful, she was kind of a friend who stick by your side in bad times. Other than that, there were many good things about her and one of those were, her brother.
Jeon Jungkook.
The first time when you laid your eyes on him, you couldn’t able to remove the image of his glowing face ever since then. He was gorgeous as well as kind. You were smitten by his beauty. He was popular among girls. With a face like that, it was a very common fact, girls often got trapped by his good-looks which wielded them to the world of imagination.
And, you were one of those girls.
You often found yourself daydreaming about him, made silly scenarios in your little head. Your weekly visits to his sister’s house and getting to watch him closely more than any of those girls could, doesn’t help with your increasing amount of fake scenarios growing inside of your mind.
It was a stupid little crush, but you still held onto the possibilities of those cringe worthy romantic stories in your head to manifest it into reality.
Whenever he was around, every time you got a little bit shy but you tried your best to hide it from others.
“Someone clearly isn’t happy to see me.” Your best friend’s brother sing song those words towards his sister, pointing out her scowl which was very much evident on her face upon seeing him. The fact that she was planning on meeting her so-called-date in the name of fake extra classes would be caught red-handed, made her panicked and mad.
“H-hello.” You asked him even though your heart was racing at the speed of 100 mph and your hand was sweating like the Niagara waterfall, you still conjured up some courage to start the conversation.
“Moon? How are you?” He immediately replied with a sweet smile on his face. People often compared his face with the bunny and you can say why. There are some significant similarities.
You got a little bit flustered whenever he used that name. He gave that name to you because you loved the moon. So much so that you escaped from your school with your Jia to watch the night sky.
It was the first time you witnessed the true beauty of the moon. Sitting on the edge of the river near her house, you both admired the shinning moon light spreading on the water as it sparkled.
You both got scolded for your little escaped not just from your parents but your teachers also. From that moment, he gave you the name ‘moon.’
He was in his sophomore year of college, got an scholarship to study in abroad. It was winter at that time when he got back in his own country during holidays. Even though the atmosphere was cold, Jungkook radiated warmth wherever he goes. He was always been the one who shined brightly in whatever he did.
Jia’s endless pleading didn’t helped much in convincing her brother, so she didn’t had any choice but to went back home. Through out the way to her home, she kept on cussing him.
“You go on dates too! Even, you have a girlfriend!” That was the first time you experienced your first heart break. It felt like someone had put a knife into your heart.
“So? Are you the same age as me?” Jungkook reasoned with her but the thing you noticed that, he didn’t denied it. Your friend wasn’t lying.
The brother-sister duo busy their selves in an argument about “Jia should go on a date or not” where you went silent, had a emotional turmoil within you. It was so random, your little heart weren’t prepare for that news.
The thought of your crush loving someone else who was never gonna be you, shattered your heart. That day, you cried your heart out into your pillow at night when no one was around to heard your broken sobs.
Thanksgiving came and it was time for celebration. It was the time for eating delicious food, show our gratitude to the universe and spending time with our loved ones.
But, you weren’t particularly enjoying.
Every year, the Jeon’s and your family celebrated most of the occasions together, due to your father and Mr. Jeon being friends apart from your friendship with their daughter. But , this year, one more family joined in. You didn’t mind if it was just another random someone, but it wasn’t someone random.
The food was excellent as always. Mrs. Jeon had always been a great cook. All the food was mouth-watering but still, you found your self concentrating more on the scene unfolding in front of you rather than your food.
Jungkook invited his girlfriend to his house on Thanksgiving. That was the first time you saw the girl, your crush was in love with.
She was beautiful would be an understatement. Long, silky hair which was dyed brown, tall with a sweet personality. Anyone could have said on the first glance at them that, they were made for each other. There were many similarities between them too, like both were studying at the same college, Jungkook being art major and she was in the literature department, both belonged to the same city but never met each other before and the most importantly, both were at the same age.
Where you were four years younger than him, basically same age as his sister.
He probably think of you as his sister. No. Definitely he did.
You were burning with rage when you saw them holding hands. Even though everyone was around them, they didn’t seem to care much. It also seemed like Jungkook’s family liked her so much. They were happy that their son have met someone who made him happy. Both their families were happy about their relationship.
When it was evening, everyone was chattering and laughing inside the house but you were on the balcony, standing alone. You couldn’t help but cry. It was too much for you. You’d been crying for days now, but now that you’ve seen his girlfriend, there was no denying that it was real. Their relationship was real and you didn’t had a chance anymore.
“Moon is watching the moon?” You didn’t noticed when Jungkook came here. You abruptly wiped your tears away from your cheeks. He came closer to you and stand beside you, you took a step away, tried harder to hide your face from him.
When he noticed you hadn’t answered his question, he continued “I picked the right name for you, didn’t I?” he asked again, tried to humor you but you were nowhere near to laugh or even smile at his jokes.
You were standing there silently, not staring at the sky anymore. You lowered your gaze and your head fall downwards, shoulders slumped. He must had sensed that something was wrong with you, that’s why he asked “Hey, are you okay–,”
Before he can finish his sentence, an ugly sob slipped past your mouth, unable to held it back anymore. This time he didn’t held back, he placed his hand on your shoulder and made you look at him. You were insistent on not to face him so he settled with just holding you by your shoulder.
Tears were streaming down your cheeks without any resistance but his hands felt comforting even though he was the one hurting you at that time.
“What happened? Does someone hurt you?” you could sense the concern in his voice, his voice was so soft like he was afraid of hurting you. That made you cry even harder.
“____, please tell me what happened?” This time he was rubbing your arms up and down, a gesture of comfort. He patiently stand there until you calmed down and was ready to talk.
When he saw you finally wiping your tears away, he took a loose strand of your hair and tuck it behind your ear. That little affection felt like someone poked a needle into your heart.
“I like someone.”
You whisper to him , tried your hardest to not burst out crying again. You saw his expression turned into confusion, so you continued “But, He doesn’t like me.”
Again, your eyes were filling with tears. The image of them together encrusted into your mind will always hunt your down for sure.
Jungkook seemed to contemplate on how to respond to you. Then, he asked “How could you know that he doesn’t likes you?”
“Because, he has a girlfriend.”
Jungkook was taken aback by your statement. He looked at you with sympathy in his eyes, like he was sad about the situation you were in.
“I- are you sure? Also, do I know them by any chance?”
You avoided his gaze but nodded to his question. You were afraid that he might know about your secret crush on him. What if, he hates you after knowing that he was the person you likes?
No no, you couldn’t let that happen.
“how old is he?”
“Same age as yours. And, I’m sure that he has a girlfriend. I’ve seen them together the other day. You- you might know him but I don’t know…” You shifted on your feet, fidgeted under his curious gaze. He was staring at you, you felt that even though you were looking at the other direction.
“May I know his nam– ,”
“No.” Before he could ask the question, you dismissed immediately. There’s no way in hell you were gonna tell him that.
After seeing your defensive state, he didn’t push that question onto you anymore.
“Okay. You know, you’re a beautiful girl, right? You’ll find someone better than him in the future who will love you.” His smile was surreal, he was looking at you like you were the only one existed in the world, Eyes so gentle.
He was such a kind person, always helping who was in need, from offering jacket to a random person at a cold night to rescuing you from getting embarrassed in front of thousands of people on your first day of period. Even if you tried to assume that he was being caring only to you, that you’re special to him, you knew it wasn’t true.
You were just a random girl who was happened to be his sister’s friend.
He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to you. Your tears were as stubborn as you were, “If he is my age then, that means he is older than you –,” the realization hit him.
“–___, he didn’t do anything to you right?” his worrisome expression made you think that why does that matter? His brows were pinched as he searched for your eyes.
“N-no, why are you asking that?”
“You should be careful from people, especially older guys. I’m not saying all the older guys are bad, but you haven’t see much of the world yet, so it might be difficult for you to identify who is good. You also haven’t matured enough–,”
“What do you mean by that!?” you got offended by the those words. Matureness doesn’t comes from age, also why was he acting like a seventy years old grandpa?
He got off guard from the sudden change in your tone. Shifted on his feet, he tried to make you understand his prospective, “I mean, many guys in our college targets younger girls like you to take advantage of, and… I don’t want that to happen to you.”
“W-why?” you wiped your nose with his handkerchief as you asked.
“Who wants something bad happens to the people they care about?” his smile was so genuine, the way he looked at you back then, made you feel things you’d never felt for anyone else.
That night you realized that, maybe, your silly little crush on him wasn’t just a crush. It was more than that. Something that might ruin you in the end but, still you let that thing to engulfed you completely.
That night, you found comfort in the person who was the reason behind your heart break.
That year, your father got transferred to a different country, so without a doubt, it was the time when you part your ways with your best friend.
It was painful, parting ways with the friend you’ve spend your almost entire life, but what’s more painful, was not able to see your childhood love ever again.
That was the last time you saw Jungkook on your way to the airport, walking hand in hand with his girlfriend.
You didn’t knew back then when someone’s in love, how they looked like. That radiant smile on his face and the glitter in his eyes when he looked at her shined so brightly made you think that, maybe it was the face of a man in love.
But, the sad thing was, you were not the reason behind that smile on his face.
8 years ago
Life wouldn’t be anymore shittier.
After you left your country, you tried your hardest to overcome and forget about Jungkook.
You left everything behind and those memories you’d made with some of the closest people there, weren’t leaving your mind even for some moments. Every little thing you did back then, reminded you of them, especially Jungkook.
Still, you managed.
You did graduated from a college and got a job. Everything was going fine until you found out that you had pancreatic cancer.
Doctors said that it wasn’t in it’s last stage yet but after thousands of medications and appointments for half an year, before that day, they declared that you only had 10 months to live only.
Not even an year.
It was so unfair. You had dreams and goals which you still had to achieve but life had other plans for you.
Your health wasn’t well enough to maintain a 9-5 job, but, you still did it because you didn’t wanted to be a burden on your family.
You were twenty-four when you realized your life was going to end soon.
“What is this!? Are you gonna present this in front of the client?” Your boss shouted at you, that bald-faced nuisance who doesn’t even know how to pronounce ‘future’. Yeah, his future was as clear as his empty bald-head.
You’ve submitted the same project for the third time, because he wasn’t ‘satisfied’ with your work, but the truth was, he doesn’t even turned the first page of it to check. Clearly, he was just messing around with you or to be honest, harassing you.
The reason behind it – rejection. You rejected his offer of ‘get a promotion just by spending a night with him’. He was adamant on sleeping with you. His flirty remarks wasn’t very subtle, you knew this pervert would come to this point at sometime.
“Make this again!” he threw the file across the table towards you. It hits you and you cursed under your breath.
“What was that?” he asked, his chimpanzee like face contort with anger once again.
He got a pretty punchable face.
“Have you checked my project, sir?” there was mockery in your voice which his one brain cell wasn’t able to comprehend.
“What nonsense are you talking about?” his brows were pinched together, flared his nose like a fucking dragon.
“I submitted the same project for the third time yet, you didn’t noticed that. Is your ego got hurt so much so that after my rejection, you’re doing this pity things to me now?”
His face goes through seven stages of grief, fear flashed through his eyes but, soon turned into rage. He abruptly stood up from his chair, banging his fist on the table, “What the hell are you talking about!? Have you forgotten your place? Don’t cross the limit, ____. You’re nothing, a good for nothing! You should know that, I’m your senior here, talk to me with respect! Or –,”
“Or what? Are you gonna complain? You know, I’m also going to complain about something…” You said, your tone as calm as ever but eyes hard as a rock.
He knew, what filthy texts he had sent you and obviously, you didn’t deleted them even though he had told you to. You thought, he might explode right at that moment out of anger, “Are you threatening me? Huh? What? Are you gonna complain about me now?”
“Yes, you asshole.”
“Bitch–,” He was going to hit you with a file but before he could do that, your colleagues interrupted and he stopped midway, pretending like nothing happened.
You stormed out of his office, never minding him calling your name continuously. Everyone in your office looked at you like you’d grown two horns on your head. You didn’t gave them any attention and straight up went to the CEO’s office.
He had threatened you countless times about how you were gonna lose your job if you don’t work how he wants you to, accordingly.
But, you had nothing to lose anymore.
After you filed a complain and submitted the resignation letter, you left that company. For good.
On the way to your home, you called your parents and told the you left your job. Your step-mom was more furious than your own dad.
Of course, you knew that would happen but what was the benefit of continuing the job when you won’t be alive anymore.
You hang up the call as soon as you heard her shouting from the other side.
You felt lost. What were you doing all these years?
Barely surviving.
You didn’t even know how it felt to live life. Not surviving, living.
All you did was, earning money with your fragile health to make it stronger but instead, it worsen even more at the end.
Now, you were on the brink of death.
Is it okay to leave everything behind? You thought. It wasn’t like you had much left in your life anyway. Your parents were stressed all the time because of you. Your sister were depressed after knowing about your condition.
Is it too soon to die in this moment? You asked yourself while standing at the edge of the bridge which connected two cities together. Staring at the river below, almost 136 meters high. You kept on staring blankly at the way water flows by, wondering where it might took you if you jump at this instance.
Before, your intrusive thoughts controlled you, your eyes landed on a bird, it’s wing crippled. It kept on chirping and tried to fly, but every time it does, landed on the surface of the barrier.
You slowly shifted closer to it, not wanted to scared it away and held it in your palms gently, “Hey, let me bandage you, okay? You will be able to fly again then!”
Fortunately, you had a small box of fast aid kit with you. Being a full-time patient and a regular visitor to the hospital, you got accustomed with the medical kits and medicines.
You swiftly bandaged the wounded wing carefully while rubbing its back.
“Do you have a name?”
The bird wiggled into your hold a little. You realized how dumb that question was, but you’d always liked talking to animals even though they couldn’t reply back to you or even understood you. All they did was, stare at your face dumbfoundedly, probably judging the crazy women in front of them.
After you were done, you released it from your hold and you saw the bird flying again.
The happiness you felt at that moment was indescribable. It felt like, you were cured from your deathly disease and your death sentence has been halt for a long period of time.
You felt like, you could live your life, just like that bird.
You felt…alive for a moment.
You didn’t knew when you started crying, tears ran down on your cheeks, on their own. You saw the bird fly happily. It wasn’t fully recovered yet, but still, the determination and courage ignited something inside of you.
At that moment, you regain the courage to live your life.
Not surviving anymore but, living your life to its fullest. At least for once.
Convincing your family wasn’t easy, especially your step-mother.
You had decided that, you want to spend your last days of your life in your hometown, which meant, you all had to move back to your old country where, once you left everything behind.
“I want to live my life before I die, dad. I want to live and do all those things while I’m still alive… because I don’t want regret it on my last days. Please, let me fulfil all those dreams before I left this earth?”
You father rarely saw you crying since you’d grown up. Not that you often cried in front of people, you always preferred crying silently in the dark of your room, hiding from everyone.
It was surprising to him.
But, the most surprising thing was, when you saw tears in his eyes. Your father was someone who believed that, crying was a sign of weakness.
But, he didn’t showed that to you, hiding his face from you, he said, “Then go, start packing your bags.”
You didn’t believe your own ears, did you heard it right?
You couldn’t contained your excitement as you hugged your father from behind and said, “Thank you.”
Tears breamed from your eyes after realizing that, finally you were going back to your country.
The streets still looked almost the same where you had spent your entire childhood, just not as much calm and warm as it used to be.
So many residents were built there now, it was more hectic and crowded. Thankfully, your old house was on sale at that time. The owner whom your father had sold that house to, wanted to sell it and your father bought it.
The walls of that house held so many memories, many untold truths and evidence of your cruel sleepless nights. The whispers of heart break buried in a corner of your room. All those memories came back to your mind and you found yourself day-dreaming about your old crush again.
“Where Jungkook might be right now?”
“What are you thinking about?” your sister came up behind you, noticing your eyes fixed on the direction of his house.
Your sister had graduated at the same year when you guys moved here. You were more than happy that she decided to start her career here and stayed with you, at least for that reason, you were able to spent your last days with her.
She knew about every single thing happened in your life and Jungkook wasn’t exceptional.
“Nothing…”
“Don’t lie. You were thinking about Jungkook, right?”
Oh god. Hearing that name after so many years, felt surreal. It only intensified the longing you were feeling all those years. Your eyes slightly widened but you dismissed immediately.
“No, you idiot. Go and do your work.”
“You don’t? Okay then, if you say so… but you should probably call Jia, she will be so happy to see you again!”
“I’ll call her later but now, my head is aching! Can you please make me some tea?” you pouted at her, gave her those innocent doe eyes. She glared at you in return, with bombastic side eyes, she left the room.
You giggled and heard her cursing back at you. You laughed a little more at that. Your bond with your sister was special. Something very close to your heart. She was the only family you had, according to you.
Your parents got divorced when you were only twelve years old, so figuring out what was going on and adjusting to the situation was difficult for you. Separating from your mother was especially harder, you thought of her as your best friend but…
No one’s gonna stay with you for forever and you learned it the hard way.
Ever since then, so many things changed in your life. Your father married again in the hope that, you and your sister might be able to experience the motherly love from her, but instead you got more pain and suffering.
She was at your throat for every single second, peace was something you used to crave, if not love. You never felt at home. When you found out about your disease, it was a disaster; but still, all she cared about was money.
How thoughtful!
You decided to take your sister’s advice and called your best friend. After eight years, you were again in your hometown. It was so nostalgic that you got emotional.
All the furniture were yet to be settled, your bed wasn’t ready to be used so you took a seat on your window, staring outside.
As you saw the canvas of the evening sky transforms into a masterpiece of hues, a tapestry of twilight unfolds, painted in soft pastels — a symphony of peach, lavender, and whispers of indigo. That moment felt celestial as your heart filled with an unknown warmth and you found yourself embracing your own body into your arms.
You had called her few times in all those years and she did too; but, with time, the busy schedules and hectic day to day life forced both of you to grew apart. The calls kept on reducing in number and, then it stopped altogether.
The call rang for four times before she picked up. For some moments, you were just staring at each other’s faces, network wasn’t working on your favor so it took time to get a clear picture of her face.
“You’re still alive?” was the first thing she asked you, very typical ‘Jia’ like behavior.
“Yeah, I’m still alive. Thank you very much! How are you?” you humored her and you saw her scoffed.
“You tell me, where were you? Huh? NO calls! NO massages!… were you gone underground or something? Oh no, wait! You forgot about me, right?”
She kept on blabbering her nonsense, falsely accusing you, dramatically thrown tantrums at you. You saw her brows pinched together as she glared at you which was supposed to be intimidating.
“Well, I’m in our hometown.”
“…What?!”
She couldn’t believe your words so you turned the camera around and gave her the view of the street where you guys used to run and play.
You saw her eyes widened and mouth gaped at the view, she scrutinized the area a little bit longer and made sure it was indeed her hometown.
“Fuck, bro! why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Because I wanted to surprise you, but well, looks like you’re not here.”
Her face turned into a sad expression from irritation, mirroring your own face.
You knew you would’ve told her, but you genuinely wanted to gave her a surprise with your arrival, in which failed miserably!
“It’s fine, I’m coming home in a few days.” That comforted you to some extent, knowing that you would be able to meet your best friend after all those years finally, before you die. It certainly gave you some comfort.
No one knew about your condition except your family, not even your best friend. The reason being, you wanted a normal life.
You didn’t wanted those sympathetic looks from others or them doing things for your just because you are gonna die soon.
No, you wanted them to act normal, just like they always did.
You didn’t wanted them to felt some urgency or pressure.
You didn’t wanted them to feel bad or guilty for you.
No, you wanted them to treat you normally, just like they had been with you ever since they met you.
Just a normal life before you die, where you can enjoy every second of your life and live it with others. Was that too much to ask for?
“Come back soon then,” Your smile held a sense of nostalgia and melancholy in it and for a brief second, you thought you saw tears in her eyes.
“By the way, have you informed others?” She changed the subject, probably didn’t wanted to cry at that moment of happiness.
“Yeah, we are going to meet at a club in this evening.”
“That’s great! Have fun then and also… is Jay coming?” she smirked at the camera and arched a brow at you.
Having a crush was different but this guy was on another level. He was head over heels for you. You never understood his obsession or love (what he used to say) for you. He was the same age as Jungkook. It wasn’t like he wasn’t good looking, on the contrary, he was charming. A guy for any girl would fall for. Topper of his class with that cute face of his, he got the whole package.
But, you never felt anything for him. So the first time he confessed to you, you straight up said ‘no’. Maybe it was a bit rude, not that you were denying but You never grasped the concept of leaving someone in ambiguity without providing a clear response, especially when it involved feelings.
“Do you want me to bonk you in the head? Why would he come to our reunion party? Come on…he isn’t even belong to our friend circle!” You said in disbelief and she rolled her eyes a little more.
“Dude, he was obsessing over you for such a long time! I’m sure he might be into you after all these year– ,”
“Jia–, you know how I feel about this–,” Yeah, she does. She knew everything, “Can we please drop it?”
She dropped the topic after your pleading. You always got irritated whenever she acted this way, teasing you by someone’s name who had a crush on you, constantly encouraged you to start dating one of them. You being you, never listened to her.
You both talked about things in general after that and then hang up.
Yeah, it was good. If not telling anyone about your sickness helped you live the way you wanted to, then, it’s okay.
As soon as you hang up the call, you felt a sharp pain in your stomach. You breathed in and out as you tried to endure it. Probably because you hadn’t took your medications yet. That’s why it was happening. You’d accustomed with all this by that time, so it wasn’t any thing new to you.
You were fine.
The city you lived in looked different but still, there was a familiarity in it.
Sidewalks hum with activity as people strolled, laughter echoed from cafes, and the distant sounds of traffic created a vibrant urban symphony. The evening air carried a blend of aromas from food vendors, filled your noses trills and made your stomach grumbled.
You met with your school friends at the club 15 minutes away from your house as planned. Coming to a club doesn’t made sense to you, because you weren’t able to drink alcohol, but.. well… you were there because of your… friends.
You sat on a stool which were lined the polished counter, where patrons sipped drinks and shared laughter. You watched your friends danced across the crowded dance floor, lost in their own world.
You saw Kai from your friends group, approaching you, came straight at the direction where you were seated. You quickly reverted your eyes to somewhere, acted like you hadn’t even noticed him just now, like any other introvert, focusing on your drink in your hand.
“Hey, ____! Long time no see.” Yeah, it would be longer if he weren’t just interrupted your peaceful time there.
He was grinning ear to ear like he just found some treasure. You adjusted yourself to looked at him, “Yeah, Hey! How are you?”
“Oh fine, just living the busy life of a busy man. You say, what you’re been up to these days?” oh, nothing special, just waiting to be embraced by death and, oh! Also trying to have a peaceful time which now has been disrupted. You hoped you’d be able to say that on his face but… oh, well… manners!
“Nothing special –,” He pulled a stool beside you and hopped on it, “You say?”
You watched him settling beside you comfortably. You internally rolled your eyes when you realized he probably wasn’t going anywhere soon.
He started talking about his life which you didn’t mind any attention to, you were busy finding loopholes to escaped the man in front of you. You eyes darted frantically everywhere around the club to found any of your friends, anyone, but the crowd made it harder to spot any of them.
He offered you a tequila which you politely refused. Then, he continued insisting on buying you a drink, his words laced with determination, the alcohol in his system clearly kicked out at that moment. The background buzz of the bar heightened as he tried to charm you into accepting, created a moment of tension which wasn’t a good kind.
Despite your clear signal of disinterest, he remained persistent. It ultimately left you annoyed than ever. The last time, your refusal was harsh, words came out of your mouth was rude but the situation particularly made it harder for you to be calm, “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want a drink? It would be great if leave me alone.”
He took that to his heart, it seemed, because the look he gave you was similar to Chihuahua dogs when angry. You never got what this boy’s problem was, even any other boy who tried to pursued you before.
Why boys don’t know when to stop and have no shame? Universal question. The whole world wanted to know the answer, included yourself.
“Why the attitude? I’m just trying to be friendly! Damn, seems like you don’t deserve that–,” He scoffed, “you’ve become more hot, not gonna lie; but, that hard-to-get bitchy attitude is still there.”
The audacity he had!
You raised an eyebrow but maintained your composure. “Friendly doesn’t usually come with comments like that. It’s about mutual respect,” You retorted.
He leaned against the counter, undeterred. “Come on, no need to be so serious. I’m just being honest here. You were always good looking and now, you looks irresistible, but the attitude…”
You sighed, contemplated on if you walked out of there or slap him across his face, “Honesty is appreciated when it’s respectful. Your comments are crossing the line.”
Unfazed, he chuckled, “I just call it like I see it. No harm meant.”
“Well, it’s causing harm. I value my personal space and expect to be treated with respect,” You stated firmly.
He scoffed again, “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to loosen up a bit. Not every compliment is an attack.”
As his audacity reached new heights with an attempt to grab your arm, frustration surged within you. You were on the verge of snapping back, but just in the nick of time, a familiar voice called your name, halting your impending outburst.
“Hey, there you are! I’ve been looking for you.”
You turned your face to your left and saw Jungkook standing there, a n knowing smile on his face which he usually made when he got annoyed or angry.
Relieved and equally surprised to hear his familiar voice, you redirected your attention, grateful for the interruption regardless.
You stared at him with wide eyes, still thinking that if he was real or not. He glanced at the guy who had attempted to grab your arm, his smile faded into a more serious expression. “Is everything okay here?" Jungkook asked, his tone carried a subtle warning.
The guy got tensed, visibly uncomfortable under Jungkook’s scrutiny, stammered, “Just a misunderstanding, man.”
Jungkook’s demeanor remained stern as he replied, “Best not to misunderstand personal boundaries. She’s not interested.”
His hand was on your shoulder in a comforting manner. With that, Jungkook subtly positioned himself between you and the guy, creating a clear physical barrier. The unwelcome intruder, perhaps sensed the shift in dynamics, made a hasty exit. His protective side kicked out.…
…Like any other big brother might had.
Being the protective big brother he was, Jungkook had a younger sister, so dealing with guys hitting on her became a familiar scenario for him. He had accumulated experience in handling such situations.
Yeah, he still saw you like his little sister.
“Jungkook…” Words came out breathy form your mouth like you still hadn’t believe him standing there. The feeling you had buried in a corner of your heart years ago resurfaced once again, the bittersweet warmth you used to feel whenever you saw him bloomed inside of your heart.
Jungkook’s gaze held a mix of familiarity and affection, and you found myself lost in the moment, the years melting away.
“Hey –,” He said softly as he stand in front of you, “Are you okay?”
When he smiled at you, you realized his smile was still the same, radiated warmth and playfulness. That boyish innocence was still there but with a mix of mature allure that time. That doe-like, expressive eyes that held a certain depth, his gaze was both inviting and enigmatic, in which you found yourself drowned.
There were significant changes in his appearance though, like the tattoos on his arm and those piercings on his eyebrows, ears and even his lips. You stared at him absentmindedly before he spoke, “Moon? I asked if you’re okay?” That name again!
“Yeah, right… I’m okay. Thank you, Jungkook.”
He smiled at your response as he said, “I didn’t knew you were in the town.”
“Yeah, no one does actually. I wanted to surprise Jia, but she is out of the country so…’
“Right, she is.” Then silence settled between you two. Before it could got more awkward, Jungkook said, “So…how is life going?” as he took the seat on which Kai was settled before.
How were you gonna answer that? Your life… you felt like it was never yours. You moved out of the country because of your father, you got a college degree so you could help your family financially, then you diagnosed with a disease which eventually going to kill you so you didn’t had much time left.
But, in all of these, what you did for yourselves? When was the time you actually lived your life?
You didn’t had an answer to that tbh.
“Nothing special. My dad got retired so we thought about coming back to our country.” You answered, swirling the glass of virgin mojito in your hand. “and, what about you?”
“Me?” He asked, his doe eyes staring wide at you, chucking a little, he replied, “Came back to my home after realizing, I’m not gonna get a job there any time soon, not bad though–,” He glanced over your shoulder as you saw something flickered in his eyes, “ –Then thought about starting my own business, now I got my own tattoo shop.”
You saw him frequently glancing over your shoulder, as if someone was behind you whome was trying to see.
“Oh! That’s awesome!”
He didn’t replied and kept staring at a particular direction behind you. When you attempted to look behind, he stopped you by grabbing your arm. “Yeah, it is.”
He let out a laugh which clearly indicated his nervousness. “Is everything okay?” you asked.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Is someone behind me?”
“Yeah… it’s just my ex.”
He said that casually as if he wasn’t just trying to desperately snatch a glance at her. You didn’t understand, his ex?
You remember his girlfriend. What was her name again?
Nina? Nanny? Ah, no. Yes!
Nancy. She was his girlfriend whom he invited to the thanksgiving party. As far as you knew, they were still dating according to Jia even though she confessed that to you a long time ago.
“Umm– Jungkook? I need more context to understand what you’re talking about. So, fill me in what I’m missing out?” You squinted at him dramatically and he laughed a little at your ministration.
That same smile which was enough to make your heart flutter and skip a beat.
“It’s nothing, just that…” He paused midway and glanced over your head again before continuing, “We broke things up a few months ago. Decided to go separate ways because we didn’t work out eventually?”
There was a question mark at the end, you wondered why was that for. Was he not know why they broke up? That’s sounds silly. Maybe, he was confused after they broke things up and thought that he made a mistake there? He might still wanted to be with her?
Before your train of thought escalate even further, He tapped you on your shoulder and brought you back to the reality, “Earth to ___,” You saw him smiling at you, “What are you thinking?”
You were wearing off shoulders, so, the naked touch of his fingers upon your skin kindled a transient flame, imprinting an indelible mark of his presence that will linger unwelcomed for the next few days.
“N-nothing, what were you saying again?” shaking the dizziness from witnessing the stars in his eyes, you asked. It’s normal for a human being like you, feeling dizzy after touched by someone made of stars. Gotta be grounded, you aren’t allowed to touch the stars, you reminded yourself.
“I asked, if you want to dance with me. Would you?” He asked as he extended his hand for you. You knew, you shouldn’t touch the stars but the shining flow of it made you blinded to the upcoming consequences of your actions.
You should knew well, why he was asking for a dance. His ex was still behind you so the only reason would be to – made her jealous, still you reciprocated.
You warned him about your lack of knowledge in dancing, nonetheless, he pulled you to the dance floor.
Placed your hands on his shoulder and his on your waist, he instructed you to move. As soon as, you two stepped on the dance floor, the song changed to a melodic one from a upbeat song.
Apocalypse by cigarettes after sex started playing in the background and you found yourself staring at the men in front of you for a second before you broke the eye contact.
Even thought you turned you face to the other side you could feel his eyes on you, making your mind go blank.
He pulled you closer, bodies Pressed together as both of you started to move in sync with the music. His breath hit the side of your face, making your breath hitched after knowing the close proximity between you two.
“____,” He called, your name sounded pretty from his lips, “Look at me.”
It sounded like a demand but his tone suggested other wise. Tender and delicate, as his soft lips brushed against your hairline, made you gulped the lump forming in your throat.
You did look him in the eyes. His gaze, held galaxies within, each flicker echoing the poetry of an undiscovered universe, in which you found yourself lost.
“You’re doing good. Just don’t think too much and let your body move according to the rhythm –,” He said, his gaze focused on your face, closer than before. The ambient lighting casted a soft glow, accentuating his delicate features, his words gave you courage, an unfamiliar sense of comfort and his face made you thought that you had someone you could rely on.
In that shared gaze, time momentarily freezes and you found yourself falling for him, again.
“Aish…I sounded like some know-it-all, I think? don’t mind it, please.” There was nervousness in his voice, fleeting glances searched for reassurance to make sure you didn’t found that offensive.
You didn’t help but realized how thoughtful and considerate a person could be that he was worrying about something so small. It wasn’t even sounded offensive to you, it was just a suggestion, guidance to someone who doesn’t know the ‘D’ of dancing.
Like a delicate melody played on uncertain notes—a sincere expression that made his words all the more genuine and endearing and you found that oddly charming.
You couldn’t help but smiled at him, “Don’t worry, I didn’t mind at all, but… I might get offended if you don’t tell me the truth right now.” You teased, slightly grinding at him.
He pinched his brows in confusion, “What are you talking about?”
“Are you. . . Somehow trying to make your ex jealous? Because if you are, I think it’s working.”
His eyes widened a bit, clearly wasn’t expecting something like that. He, again, glanced over to the girl who was still standing at the same spot for ten minutes, observing every move you two made.
“I– No–, I mean not exactly,” He looked at you with a hint of guilt in his eyes, giving you an apologetic smile, “Well, not gonna lie. I did tried to make her kinda jealous – but it wasn’t the entire reason why I asked you for a dance.” You found a hint of panic in his eyes, again looking like he didn’t wanted to offend by any means, which you found enduring. Why does he cared so much? You thought.
You couldn’t help but saw this little things in people, especially the people you held close to your heart.
“Then, why did you asked?”
“Because, I wanted to.” He said casually, as if he didn’t just made you skipped your heart beat a little faster. You shifted your gaze to the other side, feeling weird emotions about the person you wouldn’t felt. Nonetheless, you chuckled a little bit.
“You would have told me earlier, then I might have put more effort.”
“So, you aren’t putting effort yet?” He giggled, eyes gleamed under the light.
“No – I didn’t mean that, but, now we have a mission in our hands, so we better win it!”
He made a look of knowing, realized what you were implying. He let out a chuckle, shook his head at you adorably and gripped your hand a bit firmly, pulling you a little bit closer as if there were any gap in between.
Your chest flashed against his, the burning heat of your cheeks might be visible by then, you felt his thumb rubbing slowly at your waist where he was holding you. That small gesture was supposed to be comforting but it only made your cheeks grew a shade brighter.
You thanked the dimly lights of the club.
The evening went by just the two of you holding each other close as you swung your bodies to the unfamiliar melodies. This time, there was no barrier in between you two, like, ‘he see me as his sister’ or ‘he has a girlfriend.’
Sometimes, It was hard for you to understand Jia.
That one time when she asked if she could borrow your white gown on her birthday. Of course you gave that to her. It was her birthday party in the evening, so you didn’t grasp the fact why she wanted to wore something …old, when she had a new dress waiting for her in her wardrobe.
But, then switched her dress to that very new black dress in the middle of that party. When you asked her, she refused to gave you an explanation, which baffled you and left you confused.
Even though you didn’t liked her odd behavior that night, you let that slipped.
“Taehyung is looking at your direction –,” one of the girls from your class whispered in your ears as she giggled like a typical teen girl next to you.
All of your friends were sitting at the cafeteria, munching on your food. It was a typical boring day at school until your eyes landed on Jungkook. He was in the senior year and also the captain of school soccer team.
When you were busy drooling over him, your friends started making their own theories.
“Yeah, I’ve seen him staring at ___ quite often.” Other girl from your same table passed a comment.
Kim Taehyung was in the soccer team as well but a year older than Jungkook, but they were like brothers, the ‘IT’ best friend duo. It was quite usual for you to saw Taehyung whenever Jungkook was around. He was with him almost all the time.
But, you never noticed him staring at you. You thought they were making silly scenarios in their little head in hope of some Juicy gossip until you noticed, Kim Taehyung staring at your direction.
“Stop, guys! He is probably looking at somewhere else or looking for someone? Who knows!” You shrugged them off, not wanted to participate in their nonsense.
The men, they were talking about was the ‘sweetheart’ of your high school, every other girl was smitten by him, so it was a bit difficult for you to accept that he might had a crush on you.
“___, you are dangerously oblivious.” Then they laughed as if they just discovered the funniest joke of the century, their laughter echoed through out the cafeteria except from you and Jia.
It was easy to assume someone’s weight just by looking at the structure of their body until you had to carry them.
“Fuck! He is heavy dude!” Jia cursed under her breath, unable to hide the suffering of carrying Jimin all the way up to the 5th floor to Jungkook’s apartment.
“He doesn’t seem like–,” You were about to trip and fall, but adjusted yourself quickly. “yeah, he is heavy.”
The knock on his door wasn’t too loud as you made sure not to woke any neighbors up 2 in the morning.
You heard a groan along with some footsteps before the door swung open in front of you and you wished that you wouldn’t saw what you’d saw.
There was Jungkook, naked and standing in his full glory. Thank God, he had a sweat pant on.
You immediately looked down out of respect and…well, shyness? Because the way your cheeks heat up was embarrassing. You were flustered and you hoped, no one noticed.
Jungkook made a surprised gasped and scrunched his brows out of confusion, “What are you guys doing here at this hour? I- wait, is that jimin?”
“Yes!! Now help us, dummy.” Jungkook grabbed Jimin’s arm but not before shooting a glare at his sister’s direction, gave her a look of ‘you better shut the fuck up.’
He took jimin from you two and carried him like his weight was nothing, held him like a feather. Before the three of you could reach out to the sofa, you saw Taehyung came out of another room.
“What’s going on in the middle of the night?” His deep voice was an octave lower, clearly he was in his dreamland. With a scowl, he rubbed his eyes and looked at his very drunk friend, “Wait – Is that jimi– Is he dead?” He dramatically gasped.
“No. But, tell me, are you two…gay?” She asked them quietly, made it more dramatic by her expressions. Her mischievous eyes shifted to Taehyung from Jungkook, then again on Jungkook.
Taehyung gave a glare at her direction, no words left from his mouth. The poor guy just woke up at the middle of the night and accused of fucking Jungkook. You held your laughter back, didn’t wanted to make it more chaotic than it already was.
“No– I mean you look like you just had a rough night and–,”
“Jia, will you shut up?” Jungkook’s voice was stern, as if he was holding himself back. His sister knew how to get on his nerves, for sure.
Ignoring the fact that she was about to bring scolded by her elder brother, she took the responsibility and filled him up with the information.
“We were at this bar and we saw Jimin there…lying on a couch. The owner was searching for his friends but, since they weren’t there, we took him here.” She chirped, feigning innocence as if she didn’t just called her brother gay.
Jia decided to met you at this famous bar, again you went along with the idea even though you knew the fact that, you won’t be able to drink anything.
At least you liked the ambience of the bar, until you found a very drunk blonde haired guy laying on a couch, almost knocked out. The owner was literally about to kick him out if it weren’t for you and Jia arrived at the right time.
“He was supposed to join us.” Taehyung shook his head in disappointment, letting out a huff, he walked over to Jimin who was finally knocked out on Jungkook’s couch. Following Taehyung’s lead, you sit beside Jimin, scrutinizing his face for any discomfort he might had.
Your gaze briefly flickered towards Jungkook, caught him staring at you, before he quickly averted his eyes towards Taehyung. You knew, it wasn’t anything you might had thought of, but the way your stomach flipped over wasn’t something normal.
“What you guys were even doing?” Jia asked exaggeratedly, squinted her eyes at both men in front of her suspiciously.
Yes, Jungkook and Taehyung was like brothers since they were in high school, probably saw shits of each other which might had never been seen by anyone, their bromance was top-notch but that doesn’t allow people to question about their sexuality. You knew, Jia was just joking and probably pulling her brother’s leg off and besides, Jungkook has a girlfriend. Or so, had.
They might broke up, but the possibility of him having feelings for her was strong, because of the dance you two had that night at the club. No person who doesn’t had any feelings for their ex would did such thing to just made them jealous. He doesn’t said that, he doesn’t had to, it was all clear in his eyes or so you noticed.
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toruskiii · 4 months ago
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LOVER IS A DAY
"𝘍𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸- 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺."
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Synopsis: In the stillness of the night, Aventurine's voice breaks through the quiet as he calls, searching for someone to talk to. Maybe he needs comfort, maybe he's chasing away the loneliness, or maybe, without realizing it, he's answering a quiet ache he can't put into words. Genre: Reverse comfort, fluff, slight angst if you squint Character: Aventurine x gn!Therapist!reader Warnings: Unspoken tension, he's pinning but he's lowkey oblivious to it. Reader is a therapist but may include inaccurate information of being one. More focused on Aventurine's pov, slight depressing themes, a lot of self-doubts with himself :( Silly guy deserves some love from all that trauma omg A/N: This was inspired by an Aventurine bot from @/beebleblamblop! [masterlist] [about me]
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Aventurine, a recent client of yours, has proven to be a puzzle. Not that he’s rude; in fact, he carries an air of politeness and calmness when he’s with you. Yet the walls he constructs, along with the half-truths and subtle lies he offers, make your attempts to connect feel painfully elusive.
You see the good in him, despite the conflicting opinions his colleagues seem to hold. But does he share that view of himself?
Perhaps not as much as he should.
“What? With my sparkling personality, handsome face, and overflowing bank account? I’d say everyone’s eager for a piece of me,” he quips, a bitter chuckle lacing his words. You choose not to comment on that.
He often claims that your sessions are boring, pointless, and draining— whatever dismissive phrase he conjures up.
So why, then, is he fixated on the digits of your phone number, neatly printed on that little card?
His thumb glided over the small indents of the number, tracing the letters of your name that accompanied it. To him, the card is bland and uninspired. He wonders if your workplace should consider hiring a better graphic designer to create something warmer and more inviting— after all, who wants to feel driven away before they even step through the door?
Yeah, that’s definitely a suggestion he plans to bring up during his next session with you.
But why is he thinking about you?
For someone who insists that the time he spends with you is pointless, his mind certainly seems preoccupied with thoughts of you more often than he’d like to admit.
The sessions he spends with you often leave him feeling unsettled. When you look at him with a gentle gaze in response to his confessions, things he believes should never be considered “normal”, it twists something deep within his stomach. Instead of rolling your eyes or narrowing them in disdain, you meet him with understanding, and that disarms him.
To complicate matters further, your sessions defy the rigidity typical of therapy. Conversations with you flow naturally, smoothly, and surprisingly, they feel relaxing. He can voice his thoughts and express his opinions freely, without the nagging fear that the walls have ears or the lights have eyes.
It shakes him to his core.
It’s unsettling, nauseating, utterly revolting.
Each time you look at him, he feels as if you’re dissecting him, peeling back the layers of his facade with a gentle precision that leaves him exposed. It’s an intimacy that makes him feel painfully vulnerable.
Should he call you?
It’s a thought that has lingered in his mind for a while. Each digit on the card sends a thump echoing in his chest.
He reclines against the pillow, allowing the moonlight to cast a soft glow over the logo of your workplace. The light creeps toward your name and number. Is the moon guiding him toward a decision he’s been too hesitant to make?
He despises the dark at times, yet there’s a strange comfort in the moon’s presence.
In the shadows, he can’t see where his enemies lie hidden; he can’t discern which card he’s holding or where the dice will land. He struggles to see himself.
And perhaps it’s a sign when his phone suddenly illuminates the darkness of his room. It’s so late— why are his colleagues still disturbing him?
He stretches out his hand to grab his phone from the bedside table, wincing slightly as the light pierces through his bleary eyes. Fumbling with the device, he squints until he finally manages to lower the brightness.
“Aventurine, have you finished reading the reports?”
“Aventurine, there’s a meeting with all the Stonehearts tomorrow.”
“Aventurine, Madam Jade is requesting your presence for next week’s mission.”
Aventurine, Aventurine, Aventurine, Aventurine, Aventurine—
He’s always been the reliable one, but can he ever truly rely on anyone else?
His thoughts drift back to you.
Could he depend on you?
No, that feels selfish.
Should he call you?
No, you’re probably asleep.
But—
I feel like talking to someone.
I want to talk to someone.
“My mind’s a mess…” he mutters, rubbing his tired eyes. In this foggy state, he doesn’t even realize his fingers are dialing your number, the beeps sounding softly until your raspy voice cuts through the silence.
“Who the hell is calling me this late— hello?”
He stifles a laugh at your grumpy tone, finding your reaction unexpectedly entertaining. “So, I take it I woke you up?”
“Huh?”
A brief silence hangs in the air, and he contemplates hanging up, thinking he should leave a sheepish apology for disturbing you. But then again, maybe he’s not that sorry.
“Is this… Is this Mr. Aventurine?” you mumble, still half-asleep.
He scoffs playfully, raising an eyebrow. “Mr.? Really? Do you have to be all professional even in a situation like this?” He huffs, feeling a smirk tug at his lips. “And yeah, it’s me. Surprised?” He chuckles as he settles back against the bed.
“Why did you call me so late? And how did you get my number? Ah— wait, you’re in the IPC; it’s easy for you to acquire information…” He can almost hear you sigh, likely pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation. Then, he blinks as he catches an inaudible noise from your end, followed by the sound of sheets rustling, and suddenly you seem to panic.
“Wait— are you alright? Is something troubling you? Why did you call me?”
“Geez, relax. You’re getting all paranoid for no reason,” he reassures you, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I’m fine.” There’s something endearing about your concern.
He lets out a soft sigh, propping his phone against the pillow beside his ear. With his right arm draped over his forehead, he gazes at the ceiling, idly watching the fan’s blades spin. “There’s no emergency, so don’t worry. I just wanted to talk to you, that’s all.”
“...Are you sure?” you ask again, the worry lacing your voice.
You always seem so concerned about him.
It warms him.
Rolling his eyes slightly at your persistent tone, he huffs. “Yes, I’m sure. I’m actually lying in bed right now as we speak. Nothing is wrong; stop worrying.”
Please, worry a little more about me.
“And…I got your number from the business card you dropped earlier today.”
“My business card?” Were you annoyed with him? He hopes not.
He can hear you frantically standing up, rummaging through your coats and drawers, before you let out a small gasp. “Oh, so it was you who took it! I ended up not having a business card to spare for the client after you!”
“I gave you my card the first time we met—” he recalls that moment clearly, months ago. “So why take it again?”
He merely shrugs, the smile evident in his voice as he responds. “Ah… Why did I take it today, hmm? Can’t I just want a way to get in contact with you?”
“That’s not the point. I gave you my business card a long time ago, so there was no need to take another one from me. Or were you not even aware I gave it to you?”
“I was aware, trust me. I’m not that careless.”
Truthfully, he lost the card almost immediately after taking it. In his defense, he hadn’t actually planned to come back that day.
“I just wanted another one, that’s all.”
But he did anyway.
“Don’t lie to me,” you shot back, your tone as sharp as ever. Typical of you; you’ve already figured him out. What’s next? Are you going to carve out his heart and inspect it in detail? Gouge out his eyes and replace them with yours? You understand how he views the world, and you want to delve into his perspective.
Layer by layer, he allows you to do just that.
“Do you see why our sessions are important?”
He scoffs again, a playful pout forming on his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. My colleagues only think I need therapy because everyone in the office has a stick up their ass.”
“Mhmmmm…”
...
“So, why did you call me?”
And that’s the question he finds himself pondering again. Yeah, why did he call you?
His mind insists he just wanted someone to talk to.
But his heart is tangled in confusion.
Sure, he wanted to talk to someone— but about what, exactly?
“I was… bored,” he whispers, fiddling with his strands of hair. Is it just him, or is the room getting warmer? Is the AC broken?
“You’re not annoyed that I woke you up, right?”
“Any sane person would be annoyed if they were woken up at these ungodly hours of the night,” you grunt, settling back against your pillow and pulling the blankets over you. It’s cold.
...
“You know you can talk to me, right?” Your voice is as soft as cotton, and he stiffens.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Do you really?”
“Mhm.”
It falls quiet again. He hates the silence, much like he loathes the darkness. His thoughts consume him in this deafening stillness, with no noise to distract him or conversations to eavesdrop on.
Each minute of silence gnaws at him, filling him with guilt. He starts to feel a pang of remorse when he hears a soft yawn from your side.
But I want to be selfish just this once.
“You there?” he murmurs, his lilac-blue eyes flicking to your icon on his phone, watching the timer tick by.
“Yes.”
What else is there to say? He ponders. Was there anything he truly wanted to tell you? His mind feels like a jumbled mess. Why did he even feel the need to call? To hear your voice? Woah there, that’s not professional, Kakavasha.
“I…”
He trails off, opening his lips only to close them again when no words come. 'I' what?
I miss you?
No, that’s wrong.
Or is it?
“If there’s anything troubling you, feel free to speak your mind. You can depend on me, Aventurine.” Your gentle coaxing invites him to share whatever weighs on him.
But nothing burdens him at the moment, not when he’s with you.
“Sorry, I can’t really figure out what I want to say either,” he chuckles, rubbing his eyes.
“That’s fine.”
What’s happening? Why is his mind blank, yet his heart feels like it’s dancing? Your voice seems to stir every emotion within him. Are you doing this on purpose? You’re pulling at his heartstrings, and he’s starting to have second thoughts about being this vulnerable around you.
“I…”
He starts again, feeling warmth spread through his body before he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “I like the moon.”
You seem to laugh at his words. Oh, you’re laughing. Your giggles are comforting, like a cold pillow on a warm night. “I like the moon too.”
You’re like the moon.
“It’s quite pretty today, no?”
You’re pretty.
He slaps his face in disbelief at his own thoughts. What?
He stares out his window, watching the curtains billow and part as he catches a glimpse of the moon. It’s always beautiful, but tonight it looks particularly breathtaking. “It does.”
You yawn again, and his gaze softens before he shifts his attention back to the screen, noting the timer has been ticking for almost half an hour of...everything and nothing.
This entire situation feels pointless.
“But I like the sun more,” your voice comes through, even softer now, and he can hear the effort you’re making to stay awake. “It’s so cold here.”
“Really? It’s so hot at my place.”
Silence falls, leaving only the soft buzz emanating from the speaker. “Hey, do you—”
Beep. Call ended.
“…Seems like you fell asleep, huh?” he mumbles, a small smile gracing his lips.
He lets out a yawn himself, suddenly aware of the burning in his eyes and the stiffness in his bones. When his phone screen returns to the contacts, he clicks his tongue at the flood of notifications from his colleagues, now comfortably nesting atop his screen.
Is work all they ever think about? Tsk…
His fingers hover over your icon, pressing in to tap the buttons on his screen, sending you one last message.
“Goodnight.”
He turns off his phone, setting it back down on his bedside table with a groan. Until the next session, he supposes.
✓✓
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reticulating-splines · 1 year ago
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WIP - West 70th
1880s-1910s row of Upper West Side townhomes.
Been working on this row of late 19th c. brownstones on and off for the past year now, so needless to say when I heard about For Rent I was hype.
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This initially started because I was homesick for NYC during the pandemic. Specifically for the area of the upper west side my dorm was in while I was a student. I mainly blame this experience for my obsession with historical architecture - walking along central park west past the Dakota on the way to the subway, smoking on the stoops of the brownstones late at night, going to classes in the wedding cake that is the Ansonia - it was just everywhere, and so, so beautiful to look at.
Except a lot of it is faded glory - buildings subdivided, details chipped or covered in the thickest coats of grime or paint. So I wanted to replicate some of the old New York from around the turn of the century. The one I read about in the Luxe series and saw in the Samantha movie lol.
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The basement or garden level of each four-story brownstone will be dedicated to the original purpose as the main workplace of the service staff. Unfortunately no room for the actual garden, so laundry lines and planters are on the roof. There are bedrooms and bathrooms for a cook and a housekeeper/butler, along with the staff dining and the kitchen. The butler's pantry is directly upstairs from the kitchen, and the top floor is almost exclusively made up of staff bedrooms and washrooms.
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I usually do the service areas first because they're the most interesting, and there was nothing more interesting than a full edwardian brownstone kitchen. Lots of exposed piping, beadboard, subway tile, and shelves of clutter. Has a separate scullery, pantry, and stairs down to a basement storeroom to keep your best champs-le-sims nectar in. There's also a servant's bellboard in the kitchen and the staff dining room. It along with the "boiler" system are made with tool and CC-free.
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The main entrance and parlor are doing their best to continue the gothic revival theme of the exterior. The library and dining room follow in the enfilade starting in the parlor. Since this first house is a corner lot, it has a bit more width and space than a true brownstone. The only actual brownstone I've been inside of is Lady Mendl's, so ofc I had to have an extensive tea setup. Def took a lot of inspo from these two pics alone for these rooms.
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The main stairwell and picture gallery lead to three large bedrooms on the second floor, and then up to the children's room and nanny's bedroom on the third floor. I really like skylights. I learned the importance of decent lightwells in staving off depression one semester when my window looked out onto a brick wall
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The master bedroom and the children's room above it both have their own private sitting rooms and bathrooms. All rooms have either fireplaces or cast iron radiators.
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There's no way this is going to be finished by the time For Rent comes out, so im just going to release it in whatever state it's in when it does come out. The exteriors and interior room layout for all the townhomes will (hopefully) most likely be set by then anyway.
Now available for download!
Also the anniversary of Chez Cromwell is coming up! Ive been gone for the better part of the year due to starting a new job, but I havent been idle. C.Cromwell has been updated for infants and ceilings, which led to me redoing the exterior and almost every room, so a rerelease is coming v soon! Sneak peek below. Happy Thanksgiving!
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melbee-artist · 6 months ago
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From a person living in Venezuela right now...
I haven't used tumblr for venting since I was around 16 years old and needed the distraction from everything going on and the rumble in my stomach.
Yeah, things got better, but they also got worse, so many people left, and started sending in money from overseas, that we had more resources available, but still, managed to learn to live in fear, to work around every single dehumanizing thing that happened and kept living.
Us youngsters, learned to ignore, to numb ourselves to the news, to not see the horrid things happening, to pretend we didn't care that minimum wage is 3.6 usd and just keep looking for ways to help our family up. Why? They were starving, patronizing and straight up killing us. Bullet to the brain of kids.
I, myself, remember a time when I was deep in depression and ptsd I got from being exploited at a job I was no longer working at, and not having a dime as a family for christmas dinner; you see, when almost every day is outrageously unbearable, days like Christmas or your birthday are things you can convince yourself to remain alive for. Then, all of a sudden I made a connection on Twitter and someone commissioned me, and thanks to that, we had a Christmas dinner that year.
To live like that for ELEVEN, ELEVEN YEARS, is devastating, it drains everything out of you, not having human rights, and not being allowed to raise your voice.
So if you see venezuelans asking for exposure, please help.
If you see venezuelans asking for donations, if it is within your capability, please help, if not, please share.
I, myself, have open commissions, my workplace is closed due to the civil war and I'm currently paid by the hour (so, not getting paid rn), so it's appreciated.
Thank you so much if you read my vent, but even more if you help venezuelans out spreading information.
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