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cordeliawhohung · 7 months

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Death of Me - Part 3

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader - part six (and then some) of "Soft Spot"

Simon finally asks you to dance. It ends up being a lot more than you anticipated.

warnings: smut!! soft!Simon! oral (f and m receiving), simon folds you in half, you get to ride him (sorta), lots of teasing, slight overstim if you squint, praising, creampie, slight body worship? a lot of smut and a lot of plot

wc: 6.9k

A single dim lamp was the only thing that greeted you and Simon as you entered the bedroom.

Its pallid yellow hue didn’t do much to liven the area, but it did cast enough light to guide you to the bed, which you headed straight for. All the excitement from the ball had worn off and left you with a heavy feeling in your eyelids instead. You attempted to blink that feeling away to no avail as you sat on the edge of the bed and began the grueling task of wrestling with the skirt of your dress so that you could free yourself of your heels.

Simon’s eyes watched you quietly while he pulled the mask off of his face, revealing clean shaven skin, which you had so tactfully pointed out no one would have even noticed if he hadn’t shaved anyway. Once his mask laid limply on top of the dresser, he found himself trying hard to suppress a small smirk as you still struggled with the straps of your heels.

“Need help?” he prompted. The soft, rubbery soles of his dress shoes were more malleable than the thick material of the work boots he normally wore, which made his footsteps more quiet as he walked towards the bed.

“Nope,” you responded quickly.

Within a moment you were on your feet once more with those blasted heels dangling from your fingers. With the extra height gone, it felt as if the center of your feet were falling through the floor as you stood up to grin at him. His eyes continued to follow you as you turned around and walked towards the closet door. Each step you took was slow and uncertain as the sudden change in terrain threw your balance off.

“Did you have fun tonight?” you questioned as the closet door squeaked open.

“Was I supposed to?” he asked, but you could hear the smirk in his tone.

You rolled your eyes as you bent down and began to rummage through the various shoeboxes you had stacked in the far back corner. Though it wasn’t necessary, you always kept those darn boxes. Made it easier to store things in the closet if your dress shoes were stacked in a tower rather than shoved against the wall on the floor.

“Well, I had fun,” you said. You quickly found the empty box and fumbled around trying to arrange your shoes inside so that you could close it up properly. “Johnny shared some interesting stuff about you.”

“Did he, now?” Something of a chuckle sounded behind you as Simon walked to the edge of the bed behind you and sat down. You could hear the slight creaking of the frame underneath his weight as he sunk into the mattress.

You nodded your head as you tidied up the boxes before standing up. Every inch you straightened up caused your knees to scream in protest, but you ignored it as you turned around to face Simon. The sight of him sitting on the edge of the bed, suit still mostly intact, and legs spread as he rested his elbows on his knees… perhaps you weren’t as tired as your body tried convincing you. Your mind was certainly wide awake at that point as your eyes drank him in not-so-tactfully.

“Yeah,” you confirmed as you placed your hands on your hips. The dark umber of his eyes were fixated on your face as your lips slowly pulled into a quiet grin. “He told me you still carry around that stupid handkerchief I gave you. Said that’s how he knew you had a girlfriend.”

If his expression changed at all, you didn’t catch it. His eyes seemed lost as they flickered in short intervals, exploring your face. Darting from your nose, to your lips, to your neck, daring to dip even as low as where your hands rested on the firm bones of your hips.

“Smart bastard,” was his only response.

You hummed as you stood there in thought for a moment. It was difficult to focus on anything other than him at that moment. His gaze was something you craved, and you could never get enough of the way it made your heart involuntarily race. Your heart always betrayed you in some capacity. It made the blood race through your body, causing your fingertips to pulse as they begged to touch him, feel him against your skin. Intimacy used to scare you, terrify you. It was strange how much you craved it ever since Simon came around.

Before he could become wiser about the thoughts swimming around in your head, you shifted your gaze to the floor as you put on what could only be described as a poor excuse for a contortionist's act. Awkward hands reached behind your back as you attempted to grab the thin zipper that held your dress together. It seemed that whoever designed dresses loved to put women in terrible and uncomfortable positions in order to undress themselves without aid, which was something you were failing at, and quite terribly. For a moment you had gotten a somewhat steady hold on the zipper, but only pulled it down an inch or so before it snagged on something, causing it to slip from your fingers.

You didn’t even need to look up at Simon to know that he was internally chuckling at your struggle, but you looked up at him anyway with an expectant look on your face. “Mind helping a girl out?” you asked, hands once more returning to your hips.

“Thought you didn’t need my help,” he said as he shifted forward with an eyebrow raised. You tried not to pay attention to the way his tattoo poked out from underneath his sleeve, and you certainly didn’t want to entertain the feeling it stirred inside of you.

“Yeah, I didn’t two seconds ago, but I do now,” you retorted.

Despite your banter, Simon stood from the bed, his height towering upwards as he mosied on up to you. Once he was within arms reach, you turned around, exposing your back to him so that he could free you from the confines of your dress. A hand came to rest on your lower back as he held the fabric of the dress steady while the other firmly gripped the zipper. With a firm tug, he fastened the dress with a single zip upwards, effectively trapping you within that cloth prison once more.

“Simon…” you groaned. The back of your head met his firm chest as you leaned back against him with a grumbling huff. “You’re not very helpful.”

“We haven’t danced yet,” he responded simply.

His comment caught you off guard, and you found your brows drawing close together. “Huh?”

Hot air suddenly brushed against the shell of your ear and you felt your skin tense with goosebumps. Simon curled forward, lips brushing against your earlobe as his voice rumbled through you in a soft whisper.

“I said we haven’t gotten to dance yet,” he repeated. Your legs would have turned to jelly and caused you to collapse on the floor if it wasn’t for his hand still on the small of your back holding you in place.

He had to know what he did to you. The hand placement like he was ready to pull you in, his lips ever so slightly nipping at your ear. You could feel the vibration of his voice in his chest go straight to your stomach and then wander ever lower with a searing heat. It was quite clear what he was really asking, but Simon had a way of buttering you up before ever initiating anything more serious, which you didn’t mind one bit. Still, it didn't mean you couldn’t play with him a little.

“Well,” you said, a sight hum to your words as you slowly turned to face him. His hand slid along your back as you moved and it caught onto your hip while your hands came up to rest on his chest. You leaned forward, fluttering your eyelashes while you tilted your head to the side. “Ask me to dance, then.”

A deep breath expanded the cavity of his chest and you felt your hands move with him. His free hand came up and cupped your cheek, and the warmth of his skin felt divine against yours. You wanted more of it, of him. The only thing stopping you from giving into that burning want in your stomach was your own self control. You let out a shaky breath as you leaned into his hand.

“Will you dance with me?” he asked you, properly this time.

You grinned up at him as your arms slowly slid closer to his neck. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Moments later the two of you were dancing with nothing to accompany you but the sound of your own breaths. It wasn’t a proper dance by any means, as you two slowly rotated in small circles. It replicated something more akin to a penguin waddle than any waltz, but you didn’t care about the dance itself. His hand moved away from your cheek in order to grab your hand, and though you wanted to complain, you instead rested your head against the thick muscle of his pec as replacement. In that position you could hear the sound of his heart thud perfectly throughout the chasm of his chest, and you couldn’t help but wonder how it was always so steady. Strong and thudding like a horse galloping in slow motion.

And god, the smell of him. He must have worn something different, like a cologne he saved for special occasions, or maybe he used some new type of soap, but whatever it was it was mouthwatering. It was a sharp but subtle scent that reminded you of the woods your mother took you to as a child, and a hint of the cool river water you dipped your hands into.

“You look good in a suit,” you spoke up. Your voice sounded odd with one of your ears pressed against his chest, like half your body was under water. “Should find an excuse for you to wear it more often.”

“Wouldn’t be as special if I wore it all the time,” Simon pointed out.

You slowly lifted your head off of his chest and your eyes began to instantly wander. Something so pristine and clean pressed did look somewhat out of place on a man such as him. The scars on his face, rigid and always angry, popped out against the formal wear, but in some strange way it made your stomach churn with desire.

“I suppose,” you said, your eyes wandering further down his body.

The expanse of his chest only seemed to become more prominent in his attire, and the way the buttoned up suit jacket accentuated his waist from his broad shoulders was almost enough to make your mouth water. You weren’t sure how you weren’t gawking at him earlier. Perhaps it was just the nerves, but you were glad your body had come out of shock and had finally started to enjoy what was in front of you.

Soon enough, it wasn’t just your eyes that were wandering. The hand that was lazily resting on his shoulder while the two of you spun in slow circles began to drift along his collarbones and then down to his chest. His body seemed to react on instinct, leaning into your touch as if silently begging for more. You tilted your head at him while your fingers intertwined with the delicate silk of his tie before you gave it a firm tug.

“So,” you said as you raised yourself up on your toes, “I guess I better enjoy it while I can, then.”

It was too much for the both of you. The heat that festered between the two of you threatened to melt you to the bone and it built and built until it finally dispersed in a fiery blaze. The hand that held yours while you danced suddenly pulled away from your fingers to engulf the side of your face once more, and not even a moment later Simon’s lips were on yours. It was needy and maybe a little rough, but it pulled a content groan from you anyway.

For a second time that night Simon’s hand pulled away from your body, and this time you really did whine. A plump pout appeared on your bottom lip as you pulled out of the kiss and looked up at him with eyes that all but demanded him to touch you again. Instead of giving into your demands, his hands moved between the two of you as he undid the buttons on his jacket. It had a difficult time sliding off of his shoulders, as broad and thick as they were, but he eventually shimmied it down his arms before tossing it onto the foot of the bed. Next came his tie, which you let go of in order to let him loosen it. That was discarded somewhere you didn’t even care to pay attention to.

Once more his lips were on yours, and this time both hands held your face to hold you in place as you devoured one another. Simon was starving, you could tell by the way his lips pressed against yours with bruising force and how his breaths quickly became labored. You felt yourself stumble slightly as he pulled away from the kiss, leaving you breathless and off balance like he ripped away the very ground you stood upon.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” he said, his voice nothing but a low rumble.

His hands trailed down from your face, to your waist before carefully rubbing along your back. Then it was open mouthed kisses along the side of your neck, and you gasped in surprise at the sudden intensity of it, but you didn’t fight back against the way your head rolled to the side to give him more access. Expert fingers unzipped your dress, and the fabric fell limp around your arms as the entirety of your back became exposed. You dropped your arms to the side for a moment, allowing the silky chiffon to flutter to the ground in a puddle around your ankles.

Because of the nature of your dress, you didn’t wear a bra, so when the fabric dropped to the floor you were completely exposed to Simon, save for a simple pair of panties. It always went that way, though. The man was either too excited or too hungry to ever think about removing his own clothing before getting to you, and that night was no exception.

His kisses continued down your neck and moved even lower. A soft nip to your collarbone had your arms wrapping around his neck, but he dived even deeper; to the soft peak of your breasts, your sternum… before you knew it, he was on his knees in front of you, hands holding your waist as he looked up at you and planted a heavy kiss below your belly button.

The sight of him on his knees in front of you, like he was worshiping you, was intoxicating. It looked a little out of place on him, and maybe a little silly; his stature screamed that he should be the one towering over you at all times. But when his hand slowly began to travel up the inside of your thigh, it was very clear he was still the one in charge, and he was just getting started.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, lips brushing against the softness of your lower belly. A careful but accurate thumb brushed across your clothed clit, and your thighs nearly trapped his hand between your legs as you tensed from the sensation.

“You.” The word came tumbling out of your mouth, slurring like you were drunk on his touch alone. He rewarded your vocalness by making another quick and expertly placed swipe against your clit, nearly having you mewing in response. “Fuck, I want you so bad.”

He responded by hooking his fingers underneath the band of your panties and giving them a firm tug down over your hips. They joined the mess of black fabric at your feet, and then he guided you towards the bed where you sat on the edge, resting back on your hands. His dress shirt hit the floor with lightning speed as he worked at the buttons faster than your fuzzy mind could comprehend. With his torso exposed, you couldn’t help but gape as your eyes traced over the thickness of his arms and ruggedness of his chest.

Now free from his shirt, Simon scooted closer to the edge of the bed, still on his knees, where his hands quickly dove between your legs, spreading them apart. His arms hooked underneath your knees and he pulled upwards, and you fell back on the bed with a quiet yelp in surprise. Effortlessly, he lifted your hips up off the bed, your legs having no choice but to rest on his shoulders as he pressed quick and hungry kisses up your thigh.

He continued to inch his way up your thighs where his tongue found your clit in no time and your back instinctively arched, pressing your hips further against his mouth. If there was one thing you learned about Simon, it was that he was always hungry. It wasn’t very often that he would initiate anything intimate without his mouth eventually making its way to your cunt, swiping over your needy clit like he would die without it.

Fingers lacing through his hair, you closed your eyes and reveled in the way he worked at you while his dark, grumbling pants were muffled against your heat. Shameless moans and pitchy praises left your lips as the pads of your fingers carefully pressed into his scalp all while he made the heat pool in some dark pit of your body. It burned through you, seared your insides until your blood boiled, threatening to incinerate you from the inside out.

“Simon…” was all you could whine out. The swell of your orgasm began to build in a dull but ever looming wave, and you felt your breaths come in uncontrollable and erratic bursts as your hips squirmed in his grasp.

After a few more strong, hungry licks along your clit, Simon’s mouth pulled away, allowing you to catch your breath. He moved your legs off from over his shoulders and gently lowered you onto the bed where he was fully able to take in the sight of the mess he made of you. A mixture of his spit and your arousal coated the soft flesh of your heat where it dripped down between your thighs. It was the same mixture that coated his freshly shaven skin, but he quickly wiped it off on his arm as his eyes darted back up to your face.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned as he pushed himself to his feet.

That dull drum of your orgasm, lingering but not quite toppling, made your entire body feel like it would float away from the bed. You pushed yourself back up into a sitting position and leaned forward, your hands instantly finding the belt loops of his pants.

“Come here,” you said breathlessly as you yanked him closer.

Clumsy fingers began to tug at the buckle of his belt. The tightness of his pants was a dead giveaway to his hardened length lurking underneath, and you ensured your hands accidentally brushed against him more times than what was necessary as you undid his belt and then his zipper soon after.

A heavy sigh left Simon when he was finally free from his restraints, and he tossed the pants in some corner of the room where they landed with a soft thud because of his belt. With him fully exposed in front of you, you wasted no time returning the favor he so selflessly gave to you earlier. You wrapped a hand around the tip of his cock, thick and red, enjoying the heavy weight against your palm. You gave it a few languid strokes, taking your time while you looked up at him, watching his face.

It wasn’t often Simon was very expressive, but the way he closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath was all you needed to tell that he was enjoying himself. It was also all the encouragement you needed, and you found your lips parting slightly before you leaned forward, tongue pressing against the warmth of his tip.

Simon’s cock matched him perfectly in the sense that it was just as long as he was tall and as thick as he was broad. Because of this, it was always a challenge sucking him off like that, but it was one that you refused to shy away from. You pressed your head forward, tongue gliding along the thick vein on the underside of his cock while his tip prodded against the back of your throat. A thick grunt left Simon as he brought a hand up to the back of your head, not to push you further, but to gather any loose strands of hair that should fall in your face.

Once your jaw adjusted to just how wide you had to open up, you began to bob your head up and down the length of him. Your eyes didn’t leave him for a second, despite how intense his gaze was. It burned through you like he was staring through your very soul, poking around in your mind to find your desires, finding what made you tick. Spit began to dribble down your chin as you picked up speed, but you refused to stop. You couldn’t get enough of him, of his grunts, of the saltiness of his precum, of everything he had to offer. Even with the odd breaths you had to take in order to keep inhaling air yet still taking him as deep as you could, you didn’t want to stop.

“Fucking hell,” Simon growled.

Shortly later there was a firm force on the back of your head, and Simon’s cock suddenly left your mouth empty. It was like he was pulling an animal away from food so they wouldn’t make themself sick gorging on food. You sat there on the edge of the bed, a glossy sheen of saliva wetting your chin and open lips as you panted. Simon held you by your hair, not painfully but certainly demanding as he looked down at you with heavy eyes.

He then bent forward, lips on yours in a frenzy as his tongue replaced the space in your mouth. It was a wet and sloppy kiss from the spit that already soaked your lips, but you kissed him back with that same neediness. You could taste your essence on him, that soft but lively sapor, and you felt yourself moan into him.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” Simon mumbled as he pulled away. His hands gently pushed your shoulders back so that you were laying down on the bed once again, and in a swift motion he pushed you upwards so that you were closer to the center of the mattress rather than hanging off the bed. He descended on you, arms resting on either side of your head as his body hovered over yours. “Gonna be the goddamn death of me.”

The weight of his cock sat heavily on your lower stomach as he settled himself between your legs, and you felt your hips buck forward in anticipation. That orgasm you had been denied earlier made your cunt ache for him so badly it almost hurt, but you knew the wait was worth it. Cumming around his cock was certainly better than cumming around nothing.

Simon reached down and took himself in his hand as he slid from your stomach down to your entrance. You groaned as his tip pressed against your still angry and puffy clit while he teased at your entrance. Between the mess he made of you earlier, and the spit that still soaked his cock, you were plenty wet for him, and the squelching sounds only proved that further.

“Please,” you whined, your voice coming out more pitchy than you had intended it to be. “Simon, fuck, I can’t…”

“Can’t what?” he pressed, voice husky. The tip of him pressed into you ever so slightly, but with the discipline of a soldier, he refused to go any further. “Wanna hear you say it.”

You pressed your lips tightly together as your hips attempted to grind downwards onto him. But he knew your games well, and a slight smirk crossed his face as he moved himself away.

“I can’t wait anymore, please,” you begged. “Please, I need it, I need you so bad…”

His smirk only grew as he pressed himself forward again, the thick tip of his cock moving into the greedy entrance of your pussy, causing you to gasp. “Atta girl.”

There was a slight, dull burn as Simon moved deeper in you, the type of burn that took your breath away as you closed your eyes and leaned your head back against the mattress. Just when you thought he was going to bottom out, he kept going, and despite the countless nights the two of you had spent together like that, it always came as a surprise. Once he did you felt so completely full, walls clenching around him, you were certain you would combust.

It only grew more intense as Simon leaned back, hands hooking underneath your knees to press them towards your chest. Your eyes shot open at the feeling, and you let out a soft whimper as your eyes found him. He pulled out slow and careful before giving a firm thrust forward, one that had you cursing under your breath. Desperate fingers found their way to his forearms, trying to grab onto anything for stability as he nearly folded you in half.

What was once a dull whine of an impending orgasm quickly became a blaring alarm as Simon’s thrusts became more steady. He had warmed you up so well on his tongue, like he always did, your body always took him in greedily by the time he finally split you open on his cock.

“Been thinking about this all night,” Simon admitted in a pant over the lewd sounds of wet skin on skin. He drew a choked moan out of you after a particularly firm thrust, and you felt his grip on your legs tighten slightly as he picked up speed. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect. Fuck, you drive me crazy.”

You bit into your lip, hardly able to get a word out. How could anyone expect you to? When a cock as thick and heavy as Simon’s was rutting into you over and over again, stealing your breath each time it hit the fragile spot deep inside of you that threatened to undo you? Everything in your body was turning into mush and you didn’t want him to stop.

“S… Si-mon,” you stuttered out, voice punctuated by every thrust into your weeping cunt. Your nails began to dig ever so slightly into the rugged skin of his forearms. “Gonna… gonna cum… fuck… please…”

Nothing changed about Simon’s pace. He knew what he was doing was just what you needed, and he wasn’t going to switch things up on you when you were so close. There wasn’t a single inch of your face that wasn’t left unexplored by his eyes. His own pants mingled with your pitchy moans as he felt your body tighten; the shaking of your legs, the tensing of your stomach, the fluttering of your pussy around him.

A few more intense thrusts later and that feeling that had grown so taut inside of you suddenly snapped. It was like drowning in the ocean, being suffocated under the unending waves only to be snatched from the water and wrapped in a lovers arms. Like dying and being brought back to life within a single instant. He marked the moment of your downfall by the way your eyes fluttered shut in ecstasy and your thighs shook against his grip. It was a terribly delicious blistering heat that consumed you whole, and Simon only egged the feeling on as he worked you through it with deliberate thrusts.

Eventually he came to a stop, yet still buried deliciously deep inside of you as the heat waned. When you finally opened your eyes again, you were met with his face, his lips slightly parted in awe as he let go of your legs, allowing them to settle by his hips instead. He collapsed forward, mouth finding the soft skin of your neck as he placed several kisses between pants.

“You’re perfect,” you sighed out as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

He could only groan a short little huff as he continued placing delicate kisses on your skin. Your mind continued to spin for a few moments before you came to the realization that Simon was still agonizingly hard and pressed deep inside of you. A hand slipped down to cup one of his cheeks and gently pull him away so that you could replace the skin of your neck with your own lips.

Tender. It was the only word you could think of. Despite the fact he had fucked you so hard your brain felt like mush, he was so fucking tender. It made you yearn so much for him it nearly hurt.

Your legs tightened around his hips and you twisted to the side. Simon was plenty strong enough that he could have ignored your movements entirely, so you knew it was deliberate when he followed your lead, rolling onto his side and falling on his back. You rolled with him, lips still on his as suddenly the positions were switched. He laid under you, looking up at you as if you hung the stars. Still buried deep inside of you, you ground your hips down on him, groaning at how sensitive you were.

You took a moment to just look at him. The curve of his jaw, the thick and puffy scars that jutted out along his skin like crevices, the warmth in his eyes. He looked at you like he was bewitched, like he could die gazing upon you and die the happiest he had ever been.

It wasn’t often that you found yourself riding Simon, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. The man prioritized your pleasure over his own, leaving little time for you to give back. So taking advantage of the situation, with simple and slow movements, you lifted your hips up slightly only to rock them back down, gliding along his length. This drew another grunt out of him which only fueled something in you. This deep, primal need to take care of him. To make as much of a mess of him as he always made of you.

Even with your thighs still quaking from your climax, you began to work at him, hips rising and falling faster than your brain could comprehend. The plump flesh of your tits shook your chest and you reached up to cup them, squeezing them together with a moan.

“Fuck,” Simon groaned at the sight of you. Rough hands came up to hold your hips as you rode him, guiding you up and down while his hips bucked to meet you halfway. Even when he was supposed to be the one laying back and enjoying himself, his focus was still you; always you.

That tingly feeling of overstimulation began to shake through your legs, weakening them, but Simon’s grip on your hips kept you going. Even on top of him you were nothing but a babbling mess as your hands fell to rest against his chest just to keep yourself steady. Each sound you made slowly started to be drowned out by the quiet praises Simon muttered. You couldn’t even fully make out what he was saying over the sound of blood gushing in your ears, but you could tell he was close by how sloppy his thrusts became. They were quick and desperate, but still mind numbing all the same.

“I need it,” you suddenly blurted out. The tips of your fingers pressed into his shoulder like you were trying to grab at the very essence of him. All you could do was ramble and whine as he continued, reaching ever closer to his own high. “Need your cum. Please, please, Simon, I need it so bad, fuck…”

He didn’t last much longer after your precious begging. A few more sloppy thrusts later and he slammed your hips down on him once more, keeping you there while his cock twitched inside of you, spilling his seed deep into you with a rough grunt. A shaky breath left you at the sensation as you felt every single pulse as he emptied himself into you. Your body couldn’t handle it anymore. Completely spent, you collapsed in a heap on top of his chest, bodies still connected. His skin was slick with sweat, or maybe it was your own skin. It didn’t matter; everything that was yours was his, and his was yours.

For a while the two of you laid with one another. His heart beat heavily in his chest, reverberating and echoing throughout your own body. Both of your panting created a dull melody that echoed bluntly off of the bedroom walls, one that eventually softened as the crescendo of it died down. Once he caught his breath, Simon’s fingers tangled in the mess of your hair, holding you close as he pressed a fat kiss to the crown of your head.

“Petite mort,” you breathed out as you nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck.

“Hmm?” Simon hummed in confusion. While one hand stayed locked in your hair, his other hand slowly ran up your back in long, slow caresses. It sent a wave of shivers down your spine, instantly cooling your sweltering skin.

“You said I was going to be the death of you. Petite mort. Little death,” you explained, and then paused for a moment to sigh. “It’s… a euphemism for orgasm.”

To your surprise, Simon chuckled. Really, you hadn’t thought it was all that funny, but maybe there was some weird irony there. The man had a strange sense of humor, afterall.

“Petite mort,” he repeated, the French rolling off his tongue better than you had expected of him. “Weird goddamn saying.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Warm water enveloped your body as the sweet aroma of epsom salts clung heavily to your skin. Every hint of discomfort in your body seemed to wash away in the bath, from the ache in your feet from the heels you had worn that night, to the dull yet pleasant throbbing between your thighs. Darkness smothered the bathroom as the lights were off, leaving only the small light from the lamp in the bedroom to illuminate the room through the open door.

Heavy footsteps shook the floor as Simon entered the bathroom, temporarily darkening the area as he blocked the light source. He wore nothing but a pair of plain sweatpants, and the pale skin of his torso glowed in the darkness as he walked towards the bathtub where you laid in comfortable bliss.

“How’s my girl?” he questioned as he sat down on the floor.

“Great,” you answered with a sleepy grin.

It wasn’t until Simon had fully situated himself on the floor that you realized that he was eating. He sat with his side leaned against the tub, hissing slightly at the cold surface against his bare skin, and a plate in hand full of what looked like a frozen dinner he had probably heated up in the microwave. The scent of it mixed with the fragrant smell of the salts you soaked in was a little off putting, and you weren’t even going to start with how gross it was to eat in a bathroom, as you were certain he had eaten in worse places.

“Hungry?” you asked as he took a bite.

He took a moment to swallow his food before answering, yet he prepared his next mouthful as he spoke. “Didn’t eat dinner.”

A pang of guilt rang throughout your body at that realization. Simon hadn’t eaten at the ball, because why would he? Take his mask off around so many strangers just for some food?

“Baby,” you pouted slightly, leaning towards the side of the tub, “you should have said something when we got home. Could’ve gotten you food sooner.”

All he gave you in response was a simple shrug as he shoveled more food into his mouth. Then, after a moment of thought, he answered; “Decided to have dessert first.” That comment was enough to get your brain to short circuit. You opened your mouth to say something and nothing but a confused squeak left you. Simon continued eating like he was none the wiser.

“That was the stupidest fucking thing I think I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth,” you finally decided as you rubbed a wet hand over your face.

Simon chuckled, and things fell quiet between the two of you as he continued eating. Water splashed against the sides of the tub in gentle waves as your hand glided along the surface, scooping up bubbles just to let them slide off your skin. It was quiet. A comfortable quiet.

Simon’s eyes found you like they always did. He could find you in a crowded room. He could find you in the darkness of your shared bedroom. He could find you even if he had every sense stripped from him because it was like his soul only fell in harmony when he was with you. You were the very thing that grounded him - that tethered him - to the earth; that kept him from floating away and becoming something else. Something different. Something worse.

“If you could go anywhere in the world,” he suddenly asked, his fork scraping against the plastic plate in his hand, “where would you go?”

This question was different from anything Simon would normally ask, but it didn’t necessarily catch you off guard. Instead, you thought for a moment, racking your mind. Anywhere in the world? Well, the world was a big place! How were you supposed to pick just one?

“I don’t know,” you admitted while you adjusted your position in the tub. “I think I’d want to go somewhere warm. Somewhere that doesn’t rain so much. Honestly, I’d be pretty happy to just see anywhere that’s not London.” You paused for a second as you turned your full attention to Simon. “Where’d you want to go?”

Simon didn’t think nearly as long as you did. “Wherever you want.”

A small pout formed on your lips and you leaned your head against the side of the tub. The cool acrylic sent a shiver through your body, but you ignored it as you stared up at him. “That’s not very fun.”

He grunted as he wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand. “I’ve got four weeks of paid leave that I haven’t used yet this year. Figured we could maybe plan a trip, if you’d like.”

That perked you right up. “Seriously?” you asked as you sat up in the tub. “Like, you want to go on holiday?”

Your eagerness caught Simon off guard and he lowered his plate some as he turned his full attention to you. “That’s the idea.”

Your face lit up the darkness as you grinned at him. “I’d love that. Really. We could both take time off work! Maybe two weeks? One week to spend abroad and another week to relax at home?”

“Whatever you want,” he assured you. “I’ll make it work.”

A content smile graced your lips at his words. How did you get so lucky? How did you go from sleepless nights, from broken drywall and nails to him? To Simon Riley? The man who could knock a grown man out in a single punch but refused to show any of that roughness to you? Who would run you a bath after fucking you and not leave you a crumpled mess on the mattress?

“I don’t deserve you,” you quietly admitted.

“Yeah, you deserve better.”

The words left his mouth so quickly it was like they had been sitting on the tip of his tongue for eternity, waiting to be released. He said it with such conviction that it sent a jolt of pain straight to your heart. Of course everyone always wanted to do better, to be better, yourself included, but the way he said it… it was like he was saying he wasn’t good enough to be with you.

“You are better,” you assured him. Your hand breached the water, sloshing out of the tub and dripping as you shook it out slightly before reaching over the ledge. Simon shivered slightly as the warm water smeared on his skin as your fingertips brushed along his shoulder. It was annoying, you were almost certain of it, but you couldn’t go without touching him while having a conversation like that. “The best I’ve ever had.”

Things fell quiet between the two of you after that as Simon continued eating his dinner instead of responding. Maybe he didn’t believe you. It certainly wouldn’t surprise you with how quick he was to respond in the first place. But that was alright. He didn’t have to believe you in order for it to be true. So you laid there in the tub, fingers dancing across his skin as your mind wandered, daydreaming about far away lands and time well spent with the man who became your home.

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