#what is difference between hard and soft water

[sturniqlo]

Motherly Instincts- M.S

summary: mom!y/n has trouble putting the baby back to sleep, dad!matt sees that's she's getting overwhelmed and near the edge of breaking down. BLURB

cw: slight cursing, ANGST; crying, being overwhelmed, postpartum depression, FLUFF; soft kisses, reassurance, comforting

an: i tried my best to not use a name for the baby but i kept getting confused when i used the baby and y/n in a sentence so i chose a random name | lowercase intended | a continuation(?) to spilled water

masterlist | mia masterlist | join my taglist

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"got the baby back to sleep?" matt asked and opened his arms back up for y/n to crawl into him. "mhm." she hums, and snugs herself into his arms. he wraps his arm around her shoulder and she leans her head on his chest. y/n's eyes keep going back and forth between the movie playing on the television in front of them and the baby monitor that sits on the coffee table.

"hey, she's okay, i promise you. i'm sure she's fast asleep by now." he whispers and places a kiss on her forehead. "i know, but what if her swaddles comes undone. or what if it's too tight?" she bites the inside of her cheek, worrying.

matt frowns slightly, for the past couple of weeks, y/n hasn't really been herself. she's more quiet, she gets irritated quickly, she only interacts with the baby when it's necessary "i just- she's so fragile, you know?" is her excuse.

in reality, everything is right. y/n has been trying so hard to create a bond with her baby girl. she's tried so hard but, there's something inside of her- almost like a voice- telling her that she isn't fit to be a mother, that her baby doesn't like her. she sees how matt and his brothers have a bond with her own baby, who she grew for nine months. it gets to her.

y/n always has to excuse herself and cry in the bathroom when she sees her baby crack a smile with someone who isn't her, or when mia isn't fussy when someone is carrying her. there has been multiple occasions where mia doesn't let y/n carry her and she squirms in her arms but, when she's given to matt, she isn't fussy anymore. it breaks y/n's heart.

2:36am

the clock on y/ns nightstand reads. the speakers of the baby monitor begin to fill the room with the wails of baby mia. she mutes the monitor so matt won't wake up. swinging her legs over the bed, she puts her slippers on and walks to the door to leave the room. entering the nursery, the cries only get louder. she goes to the crib and sees that her pacifier had fallen next to her small head.

"hi, baby. mommy's here." she whispers, she carefully picks her up in her arms and grabs the pacifier and tries to put it back in her mouth. mia takes it and y/n sighs in relief. she cradles her for a couple more seconds until she sees the babys face churn in discomfort, the pacifier coming out of her mouth and hitting the floor, cries fill the room again.

"oh no, let's get this cleaned up." she tries to stay calm and squats down to pick up the pacifier. before she heads down she places mia down on the changing table and undos the swaddle. "do you need a diaper change, is that it?" her shaky hands unclip the onesie and starts to take off the diaper.

cleaning her up and changing her into a new diaper, her cries don't stop. y/n feels a lump start to form in her throat and she blinks her tears away. "are you hungry, baby? let's get you a bottle." she puts her back in her arms and grabs the pacifier so she can clean it while she's downstairs.

y/n runs one of her frozen breast milk pouches under warm water and proceeds to pour it into a bottle once it's warm and melted, however with a crying baby in her left arm, and a shaky right hand, the bottle falls on its side and the pouch of milk slips from her grip. "shit." she curses and a tear slips down her face. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry." she tells the crying baby in her arm. grabbing a different frozen pouch she manages to pour all of it into the small bottle.

putting the nipple of the bottle into the babys mouth, she refuses and her cries get louder. y/n tries not more time and mia takes it for a couple of seconds and repeats what she previously did with the pacifier. y/n places the bottle down next to the spilled milk and cleans the pacifier before heading back up into the nursery.

she moves side to side patting the baby lightly on the bottom, trying to soothe her to sleep. "i- i don't know what you want." she whispers, looking down at the baby's blue eyes that resembles matt's so much. however, these pair of eyes are sad and leaking tears.

in their shared room, matt flips over and tries to put an arm around y/n. he feels the spot empty and cold, waking up and sitting up he begins to come conscious of his surroundings and hears the cries of his baby. his bare feet meet the cold wooden floor and he heads out the room into the nursery where he sees y/n wiping tears from her eyes and hears the wails of the baby.

"babe, what's going on?" his raspy voice says. y/n looks up and sees matt standing there. "she's- i don't- she won't stop crying, i don't know what she wants. i've- i've tried everything, she won't stop, matt." his heart aches at her quivering voice. "it's okay, let me have her." matt walks closer to his two girls and y/n hands mia to him.

once the baby is in matt's arms, her cries stop. this makes y/n's eyes well up even more. "hey, why don't you go to our room, i'll be there in a sec, okay?" he grabs her jaw and kisses her forehead. "o- okay." she nods. as bad as it sounds, matt wished that she hadn't stopped crying right away in his arms. he saw the way y/n's eyes welled up again. he wished it would've taken him some time to get the baby to calm down.

y/n remembers of the mess downstairs and heads down to the kitchen. wiping both the milk and her tears, she hears matt coming down the stairs and she turns around. "hey, is she- is she asleep?" she says, trying her best to smile. "yeah, here, i'll clean this up." matt grabs the napkins from her and he cleans it up. "is it okay if i go back up?" y/n asks.

"of course, i'll be right up." matt turns around and nods at her. matt waits a couple of minutes before going back upstairs so y/n can have a moment to herself.

"you okay?" matt says as he closes the third bedroom door. y/n places the baby monitor back down on her nightstand after unmuting it and turns around to matt's voice. "am i a good mom?" she blurts out and sits on the edge of the bed. "what? of course you are. you're the best. why do you ask?" he goes to sit next to her. "i feel like i'm not. i mean, mia doesn't even like me. she doesn't let me hold her whenever i just want to. i cant even put her to sleep when she wakes up. i- you put her straight to sleep by just carrying her, i can't do that." she cries into matt.

"y/n, baby, you're the best mom ever." matt says and she shakes her head. "matt, you're not listening to me, i can't- i'm- i'm not good enough. i don't have motherly instincts. i'm- i'm the worst."

matt shakes his head and gently grabs her face in his hands. "baby, believe me when i say this. you are the best mommy for mia. did you change her diaper just now?" he asks and she nods. "did you make her a bottle?" she nods. "did you give her, her pacifier?" she nods again. "did you go to her when you heard her crying?" she nods. "see, you do have motherly instincts, my love. nobody told you what to do, you just did it." he smiles at her. "please, believe me, babe."

"and, it's okay if we can't figure it out right away. we're first time parents, of course it's going to be hard. we're learning." her cries have now turned into sniffles. matt wipes away the last of her tears and kisses her nose, making her giggle lightly.

"feelin' better?" matt murmurs against her hair. they had moved from sitting on the edge of the bed to matt cuddling her, kissing her hair from time to time. "much better. thank you, babe. i- i think i have postpartum depression." she whispers the last part. "oh." he says. "i want to get help, i don't want to feel like this anymore. i want to enjoy these moment with her. she's not going to be this little for so long." she looks up at him.

"you get all the help you need. i'll be with you every step of the way, alright? me and mia will be right next to you." she smiles at his words and he presses a soft kiss to his lips. "thank you." there's a beat of silence until matt speaks. "please don't ever say that she won't be this little for so long. one moment she needs us to change her diaper and next thing you know, i'm walking her down the aisle." y/n gasps. "okay, let's not go that far. she's not even two months old yet."

"you're right."

[evilgwrl]

Neighbour!Simon Riley x Reader

Girl Next Door (Seven)

CW: Jealous Simon, oral sex (m receiving), cum swallowing, praise, bit of spanking

Previous Chapter

The morning air was gentle, a soft ray cast through an open window, blinds not shut. The tickle of hair brushed against your stomach, the scent of cotton and whiskey brushing past your ear as your eyes fluttered open.

Simon was warm, the pudge of his belly radiating against your back. You stirred, a soft groan leaving your head as your brain racked, throbbing with an arrogant hangover. Your body was compliant, sticking to the sheets as you wriggled, a quick hand grabbing at your waist.

“Stop wriggling like that,” Simon snapped, voice tense with slumber.

“It’s how I wake up,” you yawned, pressing at the static in your eyes as he laughed against the back of your neck.

“It’s waking me up too,” the evident hardness of his boner flushed against your ass. Your face stilled, movements stopping as you squeaked out an apology.

There was a gentle tick from cicadas outside as you walked into the garden, the bristle of hot air against your bare thighs as you nestled a cup of coffee into your palms. The flowers were bright, transcendent colours flickering across a simple green as you rested against a porch chair.

The English air was a windless ruin, the scent of the sun blazing against wood filling the air as you shielded your eyes, treading along grass as your hands tipped a metal can of water onto the flora.

“Gardens nice,” a voice said.

Simon’s hips hung low with a towel, distinct V-line disposing into the cotton as a delicate trail of hair followed. You swallowed, visibly.

“Thank you,” you gawked, eyes slightly wide as you breathed in the image of him, iris’ soaked in arousal.

“You want to grab breakfast?”

“And they call him Soap?” You giggle, mouth crinkling as your eyes closed, squinting as Simon explained his task force to you, or the men you indecently exposed.

“Gave it to ‘em because of how fast he cleans out a room.”

“And why do they call you Ghost?”

The name was strange leaving your mouth, the foreignness of someone so different to the military speaking it sending a chill through him as he maintained composure.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

The café was bustling, the bricks stacked with corny quotes and pictures of regulars, the mint counter littered with coffee grounds and spilt milk. Eyes wandered on the bulky man next to you, but he didn’t pay attention, simply watching you as you spilled workplace secrets.

The croissant you were scoffing down crumby as it collected on the side of your lips, the tickle of pastry paying you no mind as you rambled. Simon took in the way your eyes darted back and forth when you spoke too much and the way your hands displayed actions when you wanted to emphasise something.

He noticed how your nose twitched slightly as you sucked in deeper breaths than normal, and he noticed the light fluster of blush across your cheek when he gazed at you.

You scrunched your brows together as he looked at your lips, his own creasing up slightly with amusement.

“What?” You said, confused before a calloused thumb reached out and rubbed at the side of your lip, speckles of crumbs falling from your face as you groaned.

“I had food on my face the whole time and you didn’t tell me?”

“Didn’t wan’ interrupt your gossip session.”

The environment felt stagnant apart from the two of you, his thumb still pressed against your cheek with a light pressure, umber eyes seeping through his sockets as he memorised every crease of your skin. His ears hissed with a monotone ring, too focused on the speckles of shade that fell between your facial apertures.

“You’re-“

“Y/N?”

The voice was familiar, yet foggy, an immediate sense of dread running through you as you stared at Louis, his body clad with a flannel shirt and scuffed-up jeans. His face was bright with a smile, arms wide as you stood, awkwardly waving.

“You ran off too fast last night,” he prattled, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulled you flush against him. You pulled away in an abhorrent manner, turning around to face Simon, a scowl crossing his face.

“Had to deal with something,” you muttered as Simon raised from his seat, towering over the pair of you as he cleared his throat.

“Ah- sorry mate, you must be?” Louis yakked, his chest puffing slightly as he faced the larger man.

Simon nearly scoffed into the air, “Simon.”

“It was nice seeing you, Louis,” you smiled, lips tight as you grabbed at your neighbour’s wrist gently.

“Before you go,” he jerked, grabbing onto your shoulder softly, “I was wondering if you wanted to go out again, y’know, us two?”

“I don’-“

“She’s fine.” Simon’s voice was sharp, every syllable cutting through the thickening tension, barely visible cloud of discomfort clouding around your table as you excused the both of you, mingled bodies hustling out of the crowded corner store.

Your smile was amused, shoving at the muscle of his bicep, “She’s fine?”

The look from the Lieutenant was dirty but playful, almost tempting you to argue with him, luring more of his possessive words out, “Don’t need another man eating the pussy I ate, do I?”

The words rolled from his tongue in a motion of filth as you slapped his chest, a boyish laugh sounding from him as he opened the car door for you. The drive home was windy, the usual speckle of trees greeting you as his long fingers wrapped around the stick shift as he focused on the hardened tar before him.

Your thighs, covered by a gentle sundress, were wet, a combination of arousal and sweat leaking from your panties as an evident dark patch pressed against your heat as you shifted uncomfortably. Horny eyes glanced down to his jeans, an evident strain bulging close to his zipper as you swallowed.

Tantalising fingers stroked the flesh of his arm gently as he smiled at you before they fell onto his lap, groping lightly at the hardness of his thighs, a slow trail teasing his crotch as he coughed.

“What are you doing, sweet’art?” His voice tight.

“Returning the favour.” The jerk of his car was immediate, hazards flickering in the distance as he pulled down an emptier road, dirt skidding against the tyres as he halted.

Your fingers were quick as they unzipped his pants, his hands swatting yours away as he pulled them down, large curvature poking through his briefs, precum soaking across the tip as you kissed your teeth.

Your hand was quick to grab at his erection, letting the intimidating length rest in your palms as you watched him through hooded eyes. He was quick to rid his undergarments, healthy cock springing out as it slapped against gentle curls.

The head was flushed a light red, pearly silk collecting as you swiped a thumb across it, a gentle hiss leaving his lips. Your mouth was quick to lean down, a glob of spit landing on his shaft as your hands worked against his cock with a smooth pace, gentle groans eliciting from him.

Your mouth was warm, bathing him in instant pleasure as full lips suckled at the tip, tongue running along his member with ease as you welcomed him down your throat.

Simon’s fingers wrapped around your hair, working it into a messy ponytail as he bucked upwards, a choke sounding from your stuffed throat.

Your ass was flushed in the air as he leaned his chair back, dress pooling around your tummy as the fabric fell down the plushness of your thighs.

“Good fucking girl, so good at taking me, ain’t you? Bet this is nearly as nice as your pretty pussy.”

His words spurred you on, your mouth working faster along his dick as you held a tight grip on the remainder, another hand grabbing gently at heavy balls as he delivered a harsh spank to your exposed ass, panties wedged into the puffy lips of your pussy as you whined against him.

“Gonna fill this pretty mouth up, fuck- take you as mine. You gonna let me do that, baby?”

You nodded against him, cheeks hollowed around him as you traced a thick vein, earning a deep groan from him.

The windows fogged, dirty evidence surrounding the car as you gagged, slobbering down him as you hummed, feeding him down your mouth that would no doubt bruise later.

His hand was groping at your flesh, watching the way it melted into his palm with every slap, tender flesh jiggling against him. It was a sight for sore eyes as he guided you along his length.

His balls were taunt, desperate to release as you continued your pleasurable torment. “This mouth was made for me- Jesus Christ-“

With a final gag down his cock he was coming, your mouth rushed with the taste of tangy salt, a loud moan purring through his chest as you swallowed, pulling up with a pant as your tear-streaked eyes fluttered up at him.

“Fucking beautiful, ain’t you?”

[munsonsmixtapes]

i want to get stoned after a bad day and have logan fuck me stupid so i don’t have to think anymore 🫣

I felt that

You opened the door to your apartment to see Logan on your couch, exactly where he was when you left. The only difference was that now he was smoking a joint, the TV still playing whatever show he had been watching previously. You made a beeline for him, throwing yourself onto the cushion next to him while letting out a sigh.

The day had been exhausting and you had been fantasizing about coming home to Logan and and letting him having his way with you. And seeing his lips wrapped around that joint, your thoughts were running wild.

You plucked the thing from his mouth and put it in your own, inhaling the smoke before letting it float out of your mouth and Logan watched, so distracted by the action that he wasn't even made that you had taken it from him.

"Rough day?" He asked with a chuckled and you nodded, tucking yourself into his side.

"You have no idea," you sighed before taking another drag from the joint. You just needed something to take the edge off and it seemed like Logan had the same idea as he turned you to to face him, his lips meeting yours.

What started out soft and sweet quickly turned hot and heated as Logan pulled you into his lap in one swift motion, your legs resting on either side of his thighs. He then rested his hands on your hips, letting them slide up the back of your shirt as he unhooked your bra before pulling it out from under your shirt, letting it fall to the floor. Your hard nipples were very visible underneath the fabric and Logan felt his cock harden as he looked at them, feeling his mouth water as he thought about wrapping his lips around them, licking, sucking and bitting as you came over and over, going limp underneath him.

You pulled away and put the joint between his lips, letting him inhale the smoke before replacing with your own, letting him push the smoke into your mouth and you pulled away, leaning your head back to let the smoke travel out of your mouth. And Logan didn't think you could have gotten any hotter in that moment.

He grabbed you by the back of your head and pressed his lips to yours in a rough kiss, and you let the joint fall to the floor before Logan stubbed it out with his boot. You began to grind against him, causing a groan to come from the back of his throat.

You continued to move against him as your shirt came off and he swore that he was going to come right in his pants as he saw your bare chest, seeing that it was all for him. His own shirt came off and clothing was being removed left and right, the articles flying across the room as you were both desperate to see the other naked.

And before you knew it, your back was against the cushions as Logan was putting on a condom before he slowly inserted the tip, his hands pinning your arms to the sofa as he did so. You were whining underneath him, begging for him to go all the way, but he was going to need some more convincing. He always did love to tease, to keep you begging and whining until your bratty side came out.

"Logan, please," you whined, looking up at him with pleading eyes and he was close to giving in, but not quite. Maybe one more pleading look and he'd do what you wanted.

"You're not begging enough, doll," he said, his voice gravely and rough. "Don't think you want it enough."

"Please, I need you so bad. I mean, look how badly I'm dripping for you," you looked down at your cunt and Logan pulled out, shoving his fingers inside you to get a feel for himself.

"Oh yeah, you're fucking soaked. Fucking dripping on the sofa, darling. Need me to take care of you? Need me to take care of your needy cunt?" All you could do was nod and his fingers pumped in and out of you slowly, still wanting to tease.

"Swear to god, Logan," you said through grit teeth. "I'm going to-"

"You're going to what," he asked as he curled his fingers, hitting just the right spot to make you come undone. A loud moan fell from your lips and a devilish grin broke out on Logan's face as he saw that he had you right where he wanted you.

"Tell me. We both know what happens when you act like a brat, darling," he warned as continued to pump his fingers in and out of your cunt, getting off on watching you moan over and over as you were getting close.

Your hands grabbed onto his back and scratched down it, causing Logan to wince. Your nails moved up and down repeatedly and you smirked to yourself as you heard the familiar moans fall from his lips. Two could play at that game and you fully intended to win.

His fingers moved harder and faster and you stopped scratching as you reached your peak, your back arching as you did so. Your nails dugs into his skin, creating crescent shapes on each side of his lower back.

"Fuck, Logan," you moaned loudly and his fingers kept going, loving the sound of them creating the squelching sound, loving how he was able to get you so fucking wet just from his fingers.

He then pulled them out, bringing them into his mouth and licking them with a loud slurping sounds, moaning dramatically, telling you just how good you tasted.

And just before you were about to whine for him again, his cock was inside of you, pounding into you so hard that the sofa was beginning to squeak with every move, the springs underneath making loud noises as you both moved.

Your hips bucked against his as he continued to pound into you, trying to see if you could take more of him each time he went in. His cock was so deep and he could see you, feel you clenching around it as he moved so quickly that he could feel his balls slapping against him.

"Look at you," he said between labored breaths. "Taking my cock so well. Didn't think you could take it all, but here we are." His shoved all of himself inside you again and again as you still clenched around him, your legs straightening out as you did so, your fingers grabbing a the cushion underneath you as you cried for him.

"Don't stop," you told him and that only made him go harder, faster, his fingers digging into your wrists and you were hoping that it would have left marks, a physical reminder of what you had gotten to that night.

"God, fuck," you whined as you reached yet another orgasm, writhing underneath Logan as he continued, making you orgasm over and over until you were slurring your words, going dumb underneath him.

And that was when he decided to call it quits, pulling out and cleaning you up before taking you to the bedroom to get you both dressed for bed. He then laid you down on the mattress and got in beside you, pulling the covers over your bodies before pulling you to his chest, the two of you drifting off into some much needed sleep.

[writeriguess]

Hi, could you do bakugou x reader (couple) where he forgets the reader's birthday? For work reasons I request that it be fluff ;3. ty.

It had been a long day, and you found yourself lounging on the couch, staring at the phone screen. The notification center remained painfully silent—no texts, no missed calls, nothing. Today was supposed to be special. Today was your birthday, and yet… nothing.

Your chest ached with a familiar, bitter feeling. Katsuki had been swamped with hero work lately. You understood—he was always busy saving lives, training, and striving to be the best. But you couldn't help the little sting of disappointment as the hours passed without a single word from him.

"Maybe he's planning something," you whispered to yourself, hugging a pillow close to your chest. Yet, deep down, you weren’t so sure.

The sun was already beginning to set when you heard the front door creak open. Bakugou entered, his usual scowl in place, his hair messy from the long day. He kicked off his boots and slung his hero jacket over a nearby chair.

"Hey," you greeted, voice quieter than usual.

He grunted in response, walking over to grab a glass of water. You watched him closely, waiting—hoping—for some sign that he remembered. But he just stood there, chugging the water, then rubbing the back of his neck like nothing was out of the ordinary.

The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy.

"You okay?" he finally asked, noticing the way you were staring at him.

You blinked, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Liar," he muttered, narrowing his eyes.

You bit your lip, unsure if you should bring it up. You knew he didn’t mean to hurt you, but the disappointment was hard to shake. Finally, you sighed, setting the pillow aside.

"It's my birthday today, Katsuki."

His reaction was immediate—he froze, the glass in his hand clattering down onto the counter, spilling some water. His crimson eyes widened in shock, a look so rare on him that it would’ve been funny under different circumstances.

"Shit," he whispered, and the way his voice dropped sent a pang through your heart. "I… I forgot."

You nodded slightly, trying to shrug it off. "It's fine. I know you've been busy."

But Bakugou wasn’t having it. He cursed under his breath again, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated with himself. "No, it’s not fine. I—damn it—I can’t believe I forgot."

His fists clenched at his sides, eyes filled with regret. "I’m sorry, okay? I’m… I’m an idiot."

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden vulnerability. Bakugou wasn’t one to apologize easily. He was too proud, too stubborn. But there he was, standing in front of you, looking guilty, looking like he genuinely wanted to make things right.

Before you could respond, he crossed the room in three large strides and pulled you into his arms. The sudden warmth of his embrace made you melt, all the frustration you had felt dissolving at the way he held you close.

"I’ll make it up to you," he mumbled into your hair, his grip tightening. "I swear."

You chuckled softly, resting your head against his chest. "You don’t have to, Katsuki. I get it. You’re busy, and—"

"Shut up," he interrupted, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. His gaze was intense but soft, the way only Bakugou could be. "I’m making it up to you."

You couldn’t help but smile at his determination. "Fine. What do you have in mind, then?"

He grinned, that familiar cocky smirk that always made your heart skip a beat. "You’ll see. Just… give me a second."

With that, Bakugou moved quickly, grabbing his phone and disappearing into the bedroom. You heard him muttering on a call, probably making some last-minute arrangements. You couldn’t help but laugh quietly to yourself. Typical Katsuki—stubborn, but always determined to do things his way.

Less than an hour later, Bakugou reemerged, this time looking much more composed. He had changed into something more casual, and in his hands were two takeout bags—your favorite food, from your favorite restaurant.

"I know it’s not fancy or anything," he began, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "But I thought we could just… stay in, eat, and I dunno, maybe watch some stupid movie together."

You stared at him, your heart swelling at the effort he was making. "Katsuki… this is perfect."

He scoffed, cheeks tinged with pink. "Damn right it is."

You spent the evening eating, laughing, and just enjoying each other’s company. And when the night grew late, Katsuki pulled you into his lap on the couch, holding you tightly as you watched the movie. His hand absentmindedly ran through your hair, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.

"I really am sorry," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I know," you whispered, smiling softly. "But you made up for it."

He chuckled, low and warm, before tightening his arms around you. "Damn right I did."

Requests are open. Send as many as you like.

[mountainov]

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https://www.mountainov.co.uk/book-online

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

Pt 1(you’re here)

Pt 2

warning: dubcon, somno, size difference(big time)

A/N: my requests are closed for the foreseeable future, but my commissions are open! Consider reading my commission info and helping me out! Slots are limited(2 left), so get a commission while you still can~

Having thoughts about a fairy that’s the last of his kind.

He usually spends his days lounging around in flowers or by the lakeside, sometimes visited by woodland creatures.

After his species died out, he's been quite lonely. Being the last of your kind was a fate worse than death, and all he wanted was someone to call his own.

And then he sees you, a normal human woman walking home through his forest.

Usually fairies would play tricks on wandering humans or even curse them for entering their forest, but he couldn’t take being alone anymore, so he followed you home instead.

He just planned to take up residence in your garden, maybe help your plants grow if he felt like it… but one night he ended up flying by your window.

The sight of you undressing made his wings flap in excitement. Your ample breasts, soft belly, and plump thighs were a lot to take in, but he sat in the windowsill, his eyes fixated on your body as he stroked his cock.

He’d never seen a fairy that looked like you, they were all so little and dainty. You had such soft features, all he wanted to do was bury his face in your breasts and fuck that fat pussy of yours.

But alas, he was too small, barely the size of your hand. Never before had he wanted to be the side of a human. Their bodies seemed so clumsy and cumbersome… but now the only thing on his mind was finding a way to grow to your size.

As you slept, he flew in through your cracked window, settling on your chest. It was softer than he imagined, like lying atop two doughy mountains. The fairy couldn’t help but marvel at your hard nipple poking through the fabric of your top.

He held your perky bud in both of his hands, marveling at the way you whimpered under his touch.

Before he knew what he was doing, the little fairy pulled out his cock. He pushed up the fabric of your shirt just enough so he could rub the tip of his sensitive, needy cock on that pretty nipple of yours.

“Mmph…”

He stopped rutting against your nipple when he spotted your soft, plump lips, glistening in the moonlight. The fairy’s shimmering wings fluttered as he gently walked between the valleys of your breasts and climbed up your face.

He positioned his cock between your slightly parted lips, gently pressing the tip against your tongue, testing the waters.

When you didn’t wake up, he began to slowly fuck your mouth, glancing up to your eyes every once in a while before picking up speed.

It was like heaven for him, fucking into your warm, wet mouth, imagining you tasting his cum on your tongue come morning time.

He lost count of how many times he was pushed over the edge by your soft tongue, and ended up passing out on your breasts. He looked like the cutest little thing, all curled up in your cleavage…

When you woke up the next morning, everything was the same as usual. You just had this weird taste in your mouth…

After a nice breakfast, you went to water your plants, only to find out your vegetables had doubled in size over night! As you stared on in awe, your little fairy admirer sat on your windowsill, his cheeks pink as he watched you smile and harvest the plants he had tended to.

You were his lover now, after all… and he didn’t want you going hungry, did he? Especially not when he was planning to find a growth spell and fill that chubby belly of yours full of his young so he could rebuild his species.

You’d need lots of nutrients to carry his young, and he was a good little mate~

part 2?

——————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljr @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143

[rowarn]

PLEASE, LOVE ME. PT 1

simon riley / reader

FIND PART TWO || 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: any triggering acts such as harassment/sa are done by a third party, not simon!!! also the sa is not vague or implied, there is a written out scene so please be mindful when you read! thank u to @allsaiint for reading over this and helping!

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 1: 17.8k total: 35.8k

Your muscles were stiff, thighs twitching and trembling as you laid in bed, staring at your water stained ceiling. Your chest rose and fell in time with rapid breathing. You had worn yourself out, caused a wet spot on your bed, yet you remained completely unsatisfied. Your fingers were cramped up and you let out a groan of frustration, rolling over to crawl out of bed. 

It had become a daily ritual at this point, you with your hand between your thighs, rubbing and touching, only to get into the shower completely unsatisfied and embarrassed at your own inability to get yourself off. 

People your age didn’t struggle like this, you convinced yourself.  Your cheeks burned as you stepped under the warm spray from your showerhead, the creaking pipes just background noise to you now. You were broken, that was the only explanation you could think of. 

By the time you got out of the shower and changed your sheets, throwing the dirty ones into the washer, it was evening and a familiar knocking rang through your apartment.

You didn’t even have to answer it before the lock was clicking and the large form of your best friend Simon ducked in. 

“Hey, Simon!” you called cheerfully, excitedly bounding into the room and wrapping your arms around him in greeting. 

He grunted, harshly patting your back in the familiar way he always does before kicking his boots off. When he straightened up, his eyes narrowed as he looked down at you. 

“What's with you?” he asked, a thick, dark brow raised suspiciously. 

“Um,” you stepped back, shrugging as you tried to look nonchalant, “What do you mean?”

“You look…” his eyes raked down your body, clearly assessing you, “You look tense.”

Immediately, your cheeks erupted into flames. Your face felt so hot that you had to bring your hands up to cool them before laughing nervously, “That’s no different than usual.”

He was silent for several, long, grueling seconds before grunting and breezing past you to the kitchen, clearly letting it drop. You took a moment to catch your breath before following him, finding him hunched over looking into your barren refrigerator. 

“Where’s all your fuckin’ food?” he snapped, straightening back up with a huff when he heard you come in behind him.

“Didn’t get a chance to shop this week, Si,” you replied stiffly, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why?” he demanded, slamming the appliance closed before heading to your cabinets to do inventory there too.

“Paycheck was short again this week,” you answered, speaking quietly in hopes he wouldn’t look into it anymore than that. 

He angrily slammed a cabinet closed and leaned on his palms against the counter, head hung between his shoulders, “Your boss fuckin’ stiff you again?”

“I-It’s not a big deal, Simon–” you attempted to quell him.

“Not a big deal?” he snapped, slamming his hands down on the counter, making you flinch at the noise. You knew Simon would never, ever hurt you but his anger was something to behold nonetheless, “It is a big deal when you can’t even afford to fuckin’ eat!”

“Simon…” you whisper, anxiously picking at a string on your cotton shorts, “I wasn’t going hungry, I have like…ramen and stuff…”

He says your name through gritted teeth, letting out a frustrated sigh, “Why didn’t you tell me that you couldn’t afford proper groceries?”

“I didn’t want to bother you with it, Si,” you mutter, “I-It’s my problem, not yours.”

He gives you a long, unblinking stare. His usual soft, puppy dog brown eyes now felt intimidating. One thing about Simon was that he never hid it when he was clearly upset with you. And knowing he was right now made you hang your head pitifully.

He moves suddenly, tugging his wallet out of his back pocket, pulling out a small stack of clean bills, slapping them on your countertop.

“Simon, no–” you attempt to reach out for them, willing him to take the money back.

He grabs your hand immediately, shoving the appendage away from the money, “You’ll take this and you’ll go to the store tomorrow and get some damn food or I’m going to go to the bar and wrap my fuckin’ hands around your boss’s throat until he coughs up your money.”

“You don’t have to do this, Simon!” you argue, exasperated, “Y-You don’t have to take care of me like this.”

“Yes, I fuckin’ do!” he counters, “You’re my responsibility and I’m not going to let you exist on fuckin’ cup noodles until that shithead pays you properly, not when I can take care of you. Now stop arguing and put this in your wallet now.”

He used that damn Lieutenant voice, leaving no room for argument. You bit your lip and slowly picked up the bills from the counter.

“Thank you, Simon…” you whisper, clutching the money close to your chest as you offer him a wobbly smile.

“Shut up and go,” he huffs, though his voice is much softer and affectionate now. 

You turn on your heel and go to the table by the door, slowly taking the time to place the money safely inside. You felt tears pricking at your eyes. You were so, so lucky to have someone in your life that did everything in his power to take care of you, to look after you and make sure you had food on the table. No one had ever cared about your well-being the way Simon did, and your heart felt incredibly full because of it. 

You could hear him still stalking around the kitchen, grumbling to himself in annoyance. He comes out of the kitchen, phone in hand, before he’s taking a seat on your old, creaky couch. His knee is bouncing up and down in that way it always does. It’s like he’s always a live wire, ready and waiting for something to happen.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, still standing by the table.

He grunts, shaking his head, “Orderin' dinner.”

“Oh,” you mumble, “What’re you getting?”

“Gettin’ from that breakfast diner you like,” he responds quickly, not looking up from his phone. 

“You don’t even like that place,” you giggle, “In the mood for a breakfast sandwich?”

“Not for me,” was his clipped response.

“What?” you whine, “Simon, don’t order me food!”

“Did you eat today?” he asks quickly, placing his phone on the table, clearly done with the order.

“I had cup noodles!” you point an accusing finger at him, “So yes!”

“That’s not real food,” he leans against the back of the couch, closing his eyes with his arms crossed over his chest. End of conversation. 

You sigh, shaking your head. You debate continuing to pester him about it but you hear your washing machine begin to ring the jingle signaling the cycle is finished. You cast one last, unseen glare to the man on your couch before heading to the washer, methodically taking the now clean sheets out. 

You finish placing it in the dryer and turning the machine on, stepping back into the living room when there’s a knock on the door. Simon is on his feet in seconds and at the door before you can even react. When he slams the door shut, he holds the bag of food up for you to see, dropping it on the coffee table before taking a seat again. He resumes the same position, arms cross over his chest and eyes closed. 

“Are you tired?” you ask softly, taking the empty seat beside him. He hums in response, “You want to spend the night?”

“Guess so,” he responds after a few seconds, “You work tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow night,” you mumble, reaching for the bag of food, untying the knot so you can get inside, “I hate working Friday nights.”

“I can stop by tomorrow if you want,” he offers, finally opening his eyes.

You think it over for a minute. It wouldn’t be the first time he sat in the bar on a busy Friday night, nursing a half-drunk bourbon, as he waited for you to get off, “I think it’ll be okay. Last week was fine.”

He simply stares at you in silence before sighing through his nose. But he doesn’t argue and you’re thankful for that. 

Simon’s been looking after you like this since you turned 18 and moved out on your own. There have been many, many days and nights that you’ve taken up his time and energy and as you grew older, you tried to do it less. He had an incredibly busy job and life and the last thing you wanted was to add weight onto his already heavy shoulders. 

The evening turned to night and before you knew it you had a full belly and leftovers to store in the fridge for breakfast. You folded your dried sheet and placed it in the hallway closet, acutely aware of the sound of Simon showering in your bathroom. 

It wasn’t a very big shower and you sometimes wondered what it looked like for him in there. Surely he had to hunch down to properly wash his hair and shoulders. But those thoughts always turned into something less than innocent. 

You imagined what he looked like, all wet. How big he surely looked in there, no doubt he would dwarf you. He would be able to easily crowd you in the corner, make it so you couldn't escape as he blocked the exit – not that you would want to escape. 

You slapped a hand against your forehead, shaking your head violently to rid yourself of those thoughts. You tugged a spare blanket out of the closet and slammed it closed, rushing to your bedroom to place it on your bed. 

Your cheeks burned with shame over having such unsavory thoughts about your best friend. As much as you liked to pretend that the crush you had on him when you were children had faded like typical puppy love, you knew your feelings were alive and well deep inside where you had pushed them when he rejected you when you were 14. 

It was just because you were so pent up, you convinced yourself, you would have those thoughts about any man that was inside your shower!

You crawled onto your side of the bed, flopping back into your pillow as you waited for him to come in. You completely ignored the throbbing between your thighs, a feeling you were more than used to by now. But your fingers itched to reach down, slip beneath the band of your shorts and touch your clit, the little bud throbbed so desperately that when you clenched your thighs together, a shiver would go down your spine. 

Just as you started to reach down, just to try and relieve the ache that settled there, the bathroom door opened. You yanked your hand back up and tried to look casual as you heard his heavy footsteps move towards the bedroom door.

He pushed the door open wider so he could come in, having to duck his head down to avoid hitting his head. He placed his towel in the laundry basket and slowly crawled into bed beside you, placing his pillow flat so he could comfortably lay down.

Some people may find it strange sleeping with him like this, but your couch was much too small for him and he would rather cut his own fingers off than make you sleep on the damned thing. It was old and so uncomfortable that it caused you to be sore if you sat on it for too long. Plus, you never felt uncomfortable having him in the bed with you like this. He was warm and safe and he always smelled like your grapefruit body wash after he showered. 

It made your heart thump in your chest, knowing he walked around the next day smelling like you. 

“Goodnight, Simon,” you mumbled, reaching over to turn your bedside lamp off.

He grunted quietly, rolling over so his back was facing you. You smiled in the dark and snuggled down into your own blanket, closing your eyes as well. 

The next morning, you woke up and the bed was empty. As usual. 

Even when he was home, Simon functioned off of the strict military schedule he’d been accustomed to for his many years in the military. You sat up and stretched your arms above your head, tossing your blanket off of you. The floor was chilly against your bare feet, making you shiver. 

After going pee, you ventured out into the living room. Simon was lounging, quietly watching TV – the morning news, it seemed.

“Good morning,” you called. 

“Eat,” was all he replied, not even breaking his gaze off of the TV.

You purse your lips but do as you’re told – not because he said so, but because your stomach was painfully growling and the breakfast sandwich in the fridge sounded delicious. 

As you heated it up in the microwave, you hummed to yourself.

“I’m going to go to the store after I eat,” you called, “Do you want to come?”

“Nah,” he grunted, “Gotta go soon.”

“Oh,” you tried to hide your disappointment, “Will you be back tonight?”

“Probably not,” he responded, your disappointment only growing at that. 

The microwave beeped and you pulled your plate of food out, bringing it back to the living room to eat it beside him. He took up an absurd amount of space given how large he was and how small your couch was – but you didn’t mind being pressed up against him. You didn’t think he minded either because he never bothered to move away. 

You quietly ate your breakfast, finishing up just as the news segment ended. Simon stood, knees popping as he did, patting his pockets to make sure he had his keys and wallet before pausing, looking around. 

“You leaving?” you ask, placing your plate on the table as you followed his lead, standing.

“Got to,” he mumbled, still glancing around, “Where’s my phone?”

“You leave it in the bedroom?” you offer.

He sighs and disappears down the hall for a split minute before returning, tucking the device into his pocket. He grabs his coat off the table by the door, slipping it on and zipping it up. You approach him by the door, watching him slip his boots on and tie them. 

“See you later, Si,” you say, trying your best to hide your disappointment at him leaving. 

You never wanted him to leave, always feeling painfully lonely without his presence in your home. Since he was gone for long periods so often, you liked to enjoy his company as much as you can when he’s home. But you would never be the type to ask him to stay when he couldn’t because you knew he would run himself ragged to keep you company even when he was exhausted and had other things to do on top of it. You never wanted to be a burden to him.

He straightens up, stomping his feet a couple times to make sure his boots were on fine. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you against his chest. You wrap both arms around his middle and hug him tight.

“I’ll come by when I can,” he mutters, pulling back to press a kiss to your forehead.

Then he’s gone, the door slamming closed and leaving you by yourself in the doorway, already feeling an emptiness that would remain until he returned. 

Just as you promised, you went out and bought groceries, courtesy of the money Simon had so kindly given you. You made sure you had some meat, fruit, and veggies, along with some canned goods. You made sure you didn’t buy cup noodles because he certainly wouldn’t be thrilled to know you bought that since he was so vehemently against them being in your diet. 

When you got home, you put all the groceries away and quickly realized that you had some time to spare before you had to get ready for your shift at the bar. 

As you sit on the couch, mindlessly watching some random show you’ve seen a hundred times before, you suddenly realize you’re squeezing your thighs together. 

And your panties are feeling awfully sticky. 

Your body heats up as you find yourself cupping your breasts through your shirt and bra. But you quickly realize that’s doing nothing for you and you strip your shirt off, pulling the sports bra over your breasts to cup them without the fabric restriction. You sigh and relax into the couch as you pull and pinch your nipple, tugging them and rolling them beneath your fingers. Your thighs clench and rub together as you tease yourself. 

But you tire of that quickly, knowing you could do something that felt so much better. 

Your fingers tremble as you tug the button of your jeans open and kick them off, letting your panties go down with them. You take note of the fact the center is completely sticky and wet. God, how long had you been dripping into your panties like that?

You lean back on the couch, placing your feet on the cushions, letting your legs open nice and wide. Your folds flower open, embarrassingly wet and shiny. Your clit is hard and swollen between them and you can practically see the bud twitching. 

With two, shaky fingers, you reach down and swipe over the bud. Your entire body twitches at the contact and you sigh as you slowly circle it, using your own slick as lubrication. 

You bring a finger to your entrance, prodding at the stickiness there. It’s embarrassing how wet you are. Your pussy makes loud noises as you touch but it doesn’t really provide you much pleasure so you bring your finger back to your clit. 

You circle it, pinch it, and roll your fingers over it. You’re quietly moaning, lidded eyes hazy as you watch your fingers play between your thighs. It feels good, a warm feeling settling in your gut the more you touch yourself. 

But then the inevitable happens – it’s like you hit a wall. 

You whine in frustration, speeding up your movements to hopefully reach the edge that you know is right over the wall. But you don’t get any further, if anything you feel that warmth vanishing at an alarming rate. 

Tears sting your eyes, “No, no, no…” you beg no one.

You grit your teeth in frustration, yanking your hand away to watch your pussy clench and throb over nothing, drooling and dripping slick onto the couch. But you’re too frustrated to try anymore. 

You close your thighs and flop down onto the couch, letting a few tears escape.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” you quietly complain, slapping the couch out of frustration.

Your lamenting is interrupted by your phone going off. You look at it on the table and see it's the alarm you set to let you know to start getting ready. 

Great, you spent 45 minutes playing with yourself and still didn’t get any further than you had for the last 20-something years of your life. 

You were starting to think you should schedule an appointment with a doctor and find out if you were well and truly broken, but quickly decided against it. That would be fucking humiliating.

What would you say, “Hi, I can’t make myself orgasm and never have, please doctor, tell me if my vagina is broken?” Absolutely not. 

You collect your clothes from the living room floor and toss them in your laundry basket in your room before you take a very fast shower just to clean your own mess up. Then, you get dressed and ready for the shift you know is going to suck at the bar. 

At the door, you make sure you have your belongings. You turn out all your lights and lock the door behind you before setting off to the bar. 

It’s not a long walk, about 15 minutes away. But just the idea of stepping foot inside the bar fills you with dread. 

It was a little hole in the wall place, shady and seedy were the best ways to describe it. You got pretty good tips from the patrons most nights but your boss was the biggest piece of shit you’d ever had the misfortune of being in close proximity with. 

He had a very bad habit of putting his hands where they didn’t belong and cutting his employee’s pay for no reason – or reasons he completely made up. Your last paycheck was short because he claims that you ‘got enough in tips to make up the loss’ – you didn’t. And when you argued, he threatened to fire you. 

You were already living in the cheapest flat you could afford; it was run-down and poorly maintained. But it was better than not having a roof over your head. And it was a fight to even get hired at the shitty bar you worked at now, you weren’t willing to go back to looking for work. 

So you simply bit your tongue and took what money you could get. It wasn’t the first time he did it and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. 

You got to work as soon as you clocked in, greeting your coworkers with a tense smile that they returned. Everyone was in the same boat as you, after all. No one would choose to work here unless they were down on their luck like you.

The night started slow, slower than usual for a Friday night. Despite the place looking like it was going to fall down around you and the occasional rat that scampered across the floor, the bar was actually kind of a hotspot. The alcohol was cheap and your boss never cut anyone off so patrons were free to get as sloshed as they wanted. 

That also meant the customers tended to get rather unruly. 

Which is exactly what happened when the night inevitably picked up. More people came in, more drinks were ordered, and you were running around the place like mad to get drinks where they needed to be. 

You cast a glance to the clock behind the bar, sighing in relief when you realized you had 10 minutes left of this hell. 

You were sure you were a sight, clearly run ragged and ready to get the hell out of there and go home. Your feet were sore from the old, worn shoes you wore. They looked fine on the outside, cute, but the soles were worn down and provided absolutely no cushion. It was hell. 

“This goes to the corner table,” the bartender called over the loud voices of the bar. He was a nice guy, couldn’t be older than 20, but you honestly couldn’t even recall his name. 

You took the tray of shitty beer from the counter and quickly made your way to the corner table in the back, careful not to spill a drop. You placed the tray down and gave the guys at the table a charming smile.

“Here’s your drinks,” you said, placing a glass in front of all 4 of them. 

“Thanks, beautiful,” one of them slurred, given a drunken wink.

“Um, is there anything else you need?” you asked, ignoring his flirting, as you picked up the tray. 

“Maybe,” another one chuckled, leaning back in his seat, raking his eyes down your body. You wished you could crawl into a hole at the feeling of his gaze on you. Despite being fully clothed, it made you feel incredibly naked – like he could see through your clothes. 

It certainly wasn’t the first time a customer or two flirted with you. It was sort of a rampant problem in this bar, if you were honest.

“What is it you need?” you asked, wishing so badly you could just be free from the conversation. 

One of them pulled out a stack of money, waving it in front of your face, “I’ll tip you this if you show us your tits.”

Your cheeks burned hot in humiliation as the other three laughed and jeered. You shifted on your feet, tapping your fingers anxiously against the metal tray in your hands, envisioning yourself slamming it over their heads. 

“N-No thank you…I-I don’t think that would be appropriate,” you hope that they can’t hear the way your voice trembles over all the noise in the bar.

“Come on, sexy,” the one with the money grinned, licking over his teeth as his eyes narrowed on your chest, “Bet they’re real nice. C’mon, you need the money right? Why else would you be working at a place like this? Go on, just lift your shirt up and let us see them tits!”

“M-My shift is over, I really need to go,” you shakily smile and take a step back, “I-I hope you enjoy your night, boys.”

Your attempt to diffuse the situation and get out of it proved futile because when you attempted to flee, one of them clapped a firm hand around your wrist and tugged you forward. You stumbled on your feet, dropping the metal tray with a gasp, finding yourself nose to nose with one of them. The smell of alcohol was potent on his breath and it made your lip curl in disgust. You tried to tug yourself free of his grasp but his grip was too strong. 

The guy sitting on the other side of the one who had a hold on you reached over his buddy to yank the neckline of your shirt down, the cheap, worn material stretching with ease until it tore at the weakest point. You let out a horrified cry when your bra became visible to the group, all of them cheering and shouting degrading things right in your face. 

The one across the table reached down, you felt his hand against your breast through your bra and a lightning bolt of pure terror ripped through you. It was like everything happened in slow motion.

You could feel his thumb hook under your bra and start to tug, tears flooded your eyes and dripped down your cheeks. You raised a hand and as hard as you could, slapped the one still holding you clean across the face. 

The entire table went still but his grasp loosened enough for you to turn on your heel and bolt as fast as you could into the staff room, covering your exposed bra with your arms as best you could. You passed one of your coworkers, her eyes wide in concern when she saw your state. 

She followed you into the staff room, closing the door quietly behind her. You stood in front of your locker, ripping it open as you attempted to collect your things but your mind was running too fast for you to actually make any meaningful movements.

Your coworker called your name and you paused.

“Hey, take a breath,” she whispered softly, placing a hand on your back. You realized you were hyperventilating. You attempted to level out your breathing, wiping the tears off of your cheeks only for more to replace them. 

“What happened?” she asked softly, “Do you want me to call someone? The police?”

You shake your head, opening your mouth to respond but only a little sob comes out. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed. She looks nothing but sympathetic, softly patting your back and encouraging you to breathe deeply. 

The staff room door suddenly slams open, making both of you jump. Your boss storms in, completely red in the face and furious. 

“Get out,” he snaps at your coworker. 

She casts an apologetic look to you, squeezing your hand before she ducks her head and leaves the staff room. He slams the door behind her, locking it for good measure – leaving both of you alone. 

He advances on you faster than you can react, he wraps a hand around your throat and slams you against the lockers. It hurts but you can’t get a noise past the grip around your neck. You blink back the tears that are still coming, trying to see him more clearly.

“Are you broke in the fuckin’ head?!” he screams, a volume that makes your ears ring. You wonder if the patrons can hear it outside, “You put your hands on a customer?!”

“Th-They put their hands on me first!” you defended yourself, hoarse and choked under his grip, “They touched me!”

He only looks more furious, eyes falling to your ripped shirt and exposed bra. He grabs one side of the already torn shirt and yanks, ripping it the rest of the way. Your eyes go wide and your first instinct is to kick him but you’re panicked and uncoordinated so it misses its mark.

“I don’t give a shit if they forced you over the table and fucked you!” he howls, spitting all over your face in his rage, “You better think fast and hard about how you’re going to rectify this. Do you understand me?”

His grip tightens a bit more around your throat and you hastily nod, blubbering mindless apologies to try and appease him. He doesn’t look any less angry but lets you go nonetheless. Your knees are too shaky to hold you up so you slide down the lockers until you’re sitting on the dirty floor.

“You go out there and you apologize to them,” he hisses through clenched teeth, “Or I’m going to fire you and you’re gonna be out on the fuckin’ streets, got it?”

You nod your head, holding back your sobs but can’t control the tears that fall down your cheeks. He sends you one last glare before turning back to the door, unlocking it and throwing it open. 

You’re left there, trembling on the floor and quietly crying to yourself. Your heart is racing and you’ve never felt more terrified and humiliated in your life.

The door opens again and you look up in horror at the idea of your boss coming back. But it’s your coworker again. 

She quietly crouches next to you and gives you a once over, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“I-I have to apologize t-to them,” you manage to choke out. 

Her eyes widened, “No way! You didn’t do anything wrong!”

“I can’t lose this job,” you sob, pressing the heel of your hands to your eyes as you cry, “I need this job. He says he’ll fire me if I don’t apologize!”

“Okay,” she whispers, “I’ll go with you, okay? You can apologize and then you can go, that’s it.”

You nod your head and stand up, using the lockers as a crutch. Your coworker helps you steady yourself before she sees your shirt is ripped even more than when she left.

She whispers your name, “Are you sure he didn’t…”

“He only ripped it,” you assure her, sniffling softly, “But I can’t go out there like this.”

It dawns on you that you forgot a jacket. It was a little warmer today than it had been in days and you had simply neglected to bring one. 

“You can borrow my hoodie,” she assures, opening her locker to tug it out, handing it to you, “Go on, you can return it to me another day.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, clumsily sliding it over your head. You feel much better now that you’re covered up, you feel less vulnerable. You quickly collect all your belongings so you can leave as soon as you get this over with.

You let her lead you out of the staff room. The second you’re out, the blaring noise immediately proves to be too much. You wipe your eyes, using the sleeve of the hoodie. You make a note to wash it properly when you return it. 

You feel the eyes of strangers on you and it just makes you feel worse with every passing second. You want to go home. You want to shower. You want to crawl into bed. You want Simon. 

You let her lead you to the table, all the men are still there laughing and drinking their beers. They fall silent when you approach, four pairs of eyes falling on you, making you feel humiliated and small. They look expectant, the one who ripped your shirt tapping his fingers against the table. 

“There you are!” the one who had held your wrist grinned. It was a predatory smile that made your heart race anxiously, “Thought you were gonna run away without apologizing for bein’ a raging bitch.”

You flinch at the insult and your coworker squeezes your hand in support, “I-I’m sorry for slapping you.”

“That’s fuckin’ right!” another one jeered, “Practically ruined our night. How are you going to make it up to us?”

“I’ve got a few ideas!” a different once laughed. The other three joined in eagerly.

“How about you stay back late and really make it up to us, huh?” you squeezed your coworkers hand in yours, already feeling the tears returning with a vengeance.

“How about I bring you a round on me, huh?” she quickly intervenes, “I’ll buy.”

That seems to do it for the 4 men and they rambunctiously cheer and slam their hands on the table obnoxiously. You think you hear her promise to be back with their drinks as she pulls you away from the table. You both hide away in the staff room again and she holds both your hands in hers.

“Go on home,” she says softly.

“I-I’ll pay you back for the drinks–” she shushes you quickly when you start.

“Don’t even worry about it,” she coos, “Go home.”

With a gentle nudge to the back entrance, she casts you one last kind smile before slipping out of the staff door. 

You don’t even remember the walk home, your mind completely fuzzy. But you’re sobbing again by the time you stumble into the door. You collapse onto the floor in front of your couch, wailing into the cushions as the weight of the night fully and entirely collapses on you. You can barely breathe through your tears, hiccups and coughs breaking up the endless crying only to resume when you catch your breath. 

You have no idea how long you sit there, crying louder and harder than you have in a very, very long time. 

You hear your front door creak open before the living room light flips on. You go completely stiff, your crying finally going silent as you hear the familiar heavy footsteps step into the living room before they fall still when he sees you.

He calls your name, soft and gentle in a way that is completely unlike him. Simon isn’t soft, he talks to you in a cold, apathetic and teasing tone. He’s always clipped and blunt. Sure, he’s kind but never gentle.

Just the sweet tone makes your lips wobble and suddenly you’re sobbing again. His boots hit the floor fast, taking quick, big strides so he can reach you as fast as he possibly can. Two strong hands hook under your arms and turn you towards him. He takes a seat beside you on the floor and tugs you into lap.

You melt into his chest, secured by his embrace as he holds you. One hand cups the back of your head and the other wraps around your back. 

“You didn’t answer your phone when I called,” he explained his arrival, lips pressed to the crown of your head, “Got worried so I rushed over.”

You grip his hoodie in your hands, anchoring yourself to him as you cry and cry. He remains silent, content to hold you and let you cry out everything you’re feeling. 

Just having him there, holding you and comforting you, is enough to ease your tears until you’re just a hiccuping, sniffling mess. You’re taking those quick, stuttering gasping breaths that signify the end of your meltdown and Simon slowly eases his hold on you. 

He cups your cheek in one hand, raising your head up so he can really look at you. He rubs a thumb under your eye, wiping away your tears. He looks so concerned, brows furrowed and a frown on his lips. 

The sight of his face makes your lips wobble again, “Si…” you finally manage to choke out.

His gaze softens immediately, his other hand coming up to cup your face as well. He leans forward and presses a lingering kiss against your forehead.

“You want to tell me what happened?” he finally asks, letting go of your face to hold your waist, keeping you curled up in his lap. 

You think about it. You want to tell him all about it, to get it off of your chest and figure out how the hell you’re supposed to move past it. But you know that if you tell him, he’s going to march his ass to your job the second he gets a chance and put your boss’s head through the wall and find those assholes from the table. 

You really can’t afford to lose your job. Your bills are tight enough as it is, you’re scraping by by the skin of your teeth. If you’re jobless for even a week, it’s going to fuck everything up. You’ll never make rent and you can’t end up on the street. 

“Just a…bad shift…” you supply lamely.

Simon stares at you, jaw set and tense, “I don’t know what’s worse. The fact you’re lying in the first place or the fact you don’t think you can tell me what really happened.”

“Simon…” you whine, pushing yourself off of his lap, “Just let it go, please.”

He follows your lead when you stand up. He still hasn’t taken his boots off, still too concerned about you to care. Every step he takes is a loud sound of his weight in those boots. 

You pace back and forth, arms crossed over your chest.

“I’m not letting it go,” he responds, “I think you know me better than that.”

“Simon, please!” you feel the tears returning again and you suddenly realize how tired you are from crying. Your eyes are sore and you just want to sleep. 

“I want to know what happened,” he argues, clearly growing exasperated. 

You know he’s not going to let it go. He knows you too well to believe any lies. You press your hands to your face and let out a noise of frustration and despair. You can feel his eyes on you, unwavering and firm. You feel hot, like you’re overheating and suffocated. With trembling hands, you haphazardly tug at the hoodie – you need it off or you’re going to go mad. 

Simon reaches forward to help you, watching your rising panic but you slap his hands away. He looks stupefied at your reaction but retracts his hands. 

But you can’t get the damned thing off, you’re uncoordinated and clumsy, unable to pull your arms through the sleeves so you can get it off. Why won’t it come off? 

“G-Get it off,” you finally cry, completely unaware of the pure horror in your voice.

Simon’s hands are back, “I’ve got you. I’ll get it off ya.” 

True to his word, he tugs it up and it slips over your head with ease. You feel like you can take a deep breath finally, feeling the cool air of your living room against your skin again. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you attempt to calm yourself. 

He says your name softly but you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. You jump when you feel the ghost of his fingers against your stomach – the skin is bare and it makes your eyes fly open. You look down and remember that your shirt was completely torn open, the hoodie had been hiding it, and now Simon is seeing. You can see the realization in his face.

He’s not an idiot. If anything, he’s more intelligent than anyone you’ve ever known. 

Suddenly your stomach turns and you place a hand over your mouth. You’re running down the hallway, dropping to your knees in front of the toilet as you heave. 

You don’t hear any movement from Simon. He doesn’t follow you to the bathroom. You’re briefly thankful for the escape as the nausea disappears before you suddenly crave to have him near you again.

“Simon!” you cry, his footfalls an immediate response. 

He crouches beside you, placing a hand on your back, “You finished?”

You nod, spitting one last time into the toilet, “I-I want to shower.”

He’s quiet for a moment before he stands, stepping past you to turn on the shower for you. He places a consoling hand on the top of your head in passing before he goes to leave you alone. You reach out and grab his hand before he can get too far.

He pauses and looks at you, easily understanding. He brushes his thumb over your hand, “Not goin’ anywhere, love.”

He takes a step outside of the bathroom and stands there, hands held in front of him as if he were on guard, like a security guard. You flush the toilet and shakily strip your clothes off before stepping into the shower, letting the warm spray ease your sore body and clear your sinuses. You’re terribly stuffy from crying so you can’t even smell your grapefruit body wash this time.

You finish your shower, making sure you scrub your body as best you can before you step out and wrap a towel around your body.

“Are you hungry?” Simon suddenly asks.

“No…” your tone is flatter than you had intended and you realize that you’re completely emotionally drained. 

“Alright,” is all he says in reply.

You approach the door, where he’s still standing. You place your hand against his back and he quickly steps aside to let you by. You hear his boots behind you as he follows you to your bedroom. 

You sit on the bed, completely exhausted. Simon makes himself busy with going through your dresser, pulling out some clothes for you to wear before he places them on the bed beside you. You don’t make any movements. 

He sighs, softly saying your name before crouching in front of you, taking your hands in his. 

“Was it your boss?” he asks softly. 

“Him and some assholes I was serving drinks to,” you tiredly answer. You don’t have it in you to fight in anymore. 

“Why didn’t you want to tell me?” he pries, squeezing your hands.

“Because I know you, Si,” you sniffle, “You’re going to go down there and put them all in the hospital when you find them.”

“And?” he scoffs, “They fuckin’ deserve it. No one gets to put their hands on you like that and get away with it.”

“Because I can’t lose my job, Si!” you finally cry, “I barely make ends meet as it is! I-If I lose my job, what am I supposed to do? I won’t be able to afford rent. I’ll be on the streets!”

“I would never let that happen,” he says firmly, “You will never be on the streets, love. I will always take care of you, you know that.”

“I can’t do that to you, Simon,” you mutter, sniffling again, “Y-You already have so much on your plate I don’t want to be another problem you have to deal with.”

“Is that what you think?” he scoffs, standing up, “That I deal with you? You’re important to me, I take care of you because I never want anything to happen to you. I’m not going to let you work at that shithole for a minute longer.”

You hang your head, unable to supply any arguments to him anymore.

“I’m going to make you something small to eat. You’re going to eat and drink some water and then you’re going to get some rest, understood?” he gives a satisfied hum when you nod your head in compliance. 

Once you’re alone, you go over his words again. You’re important to him, that’s what he said. It was the most clear he had ever been with his feelings towards you since you confessed your feelings when you were young. 

As you methodically got dressed in the clothes he picked out for you, you reminisced. Memories of him were always something that made you inexplicably happy – except for one memory.

You were 14 and he was 17 at the time. You’d known each other for your entire childhood after his mother had brought him over for a playdate despite the age difference and the fact you were closer in age to his brother. 

He had always looked after you and taken care of you, walking you home after school and simply looking after you when your parents were busy. It was inevitable that you would grow feelings for him. You remember the way your heart would race every time you looked at him. You remember telling your friends that he was your boyfriend, hoping he wouldn’t find out.

You had told him one evening when he was hanging out, having dinner with your family, that you liked him – like liked. 

You remember how you cried into your pillow night after night when he rejected you. Told you flat out that you were an idiot and to drop it and never, ever bring it up again. That he didn’t feel the same. And that was that. 

You never brought it up again. 

But the crush never once waned. You decided that his friendship was more important than your feelings for him so you would never let him know. And that’s how it had been ever since. 

Simon’s voice calling your name ripped you from your reminiscing. You tied the drawstrings of the sweats he had picked out and quickly made your way to the kitchen. 

Simon was washing a pan by the time you arrived but he nodded to a plate he set on the counter for you. It was just a small omelet he made, complete with a light drizzle of ketchup. 

He knew you well, you couldn’t deny. You picked up the fork he’d placed on the plate for you and slowly began to eat. 

After being sick, your stomach was painfully empty so you were happy to have something on it once again. Simon quietly finished washing the dishes he had dirtied before he placed them on the dish rack and dried his hands. 

“Um, Simon?” you called softly, receiving a grunt in reply, “Didn’t you have something going on tonight?”

“Was gonna be out the lads,” he responded, “Doesn’t matter, can hang out with those idiots anytime.”

“You shouldn’t talk about your friends like that,” you said, shaking your head as you took a final bite of your omelet.

“Aint my friends,” he reached down and took your plate from you, tossing it into the sink.

“Simon Riley doesn’t have friends?” you asked, eyes following him as he locked up your apartment and started to turn out the lights.

“Got you,” he said as you followed him down the hall, “All I need.”

A fond smile made its way across your face as he yanked his shirt above his head. You began to make yourself comfortable in bed, trying to keep your eyes off of him as he got dressed for bed. Despite the way you wanted to take the chance to look at him.

Friends. That’s what you were, you reminded yourself. 

Finally, he climbed into bed beside you, making himself comfortable before you turned out the light. 

Yet, despite your exhaustion from the night, you felt like you couldn’t close your eyes. You felt like you couldn’t relax. The tension in your body was so much that you were sore. Like you had gone to the gym instead of went to work. 

“Simon..?” you whispered into the dark. He was silent for a second before he hummed in response, “Can I…tell you what happened tonight?”

He was quiet again but you felt him move, a hand blindly reaching over to you to find your hands. You took it in both of yours, nervously fidgeting with his fingers. 

“This stupid group of guys were sloshed beyond belief,” you began to tell him, aware of his gaze on you through the dark, “They were just chattin’ shit, saying they’d tip me if I showed them my tits,” he scoffed beside you, clearly displeased, “I said no and tried to leave and they wouldn’t let me. One of them ripped my shirt and tried to pull my bra up so I slapped him.”

“Fuckin’ bastard deserved to get his teeth knocked down his throat,” Simon growled from beside you.

“I got away and went to the staff room but my boss came in and he was so fucking angry, Si,” your voice shook as you remembered the way his face had been so red and a look of pure hate had been in his eyes, “He grabbed my throat and pinned against the lockers. He was angry that I had struck a customer.”

“Of course that’s all that bastard would be angry about,” Simon spit, not bothering to hide his distaste.

“I tried to tell him that I was defending myself but he said–” your voice broke and you struggled to blink back the tears. Simon sat up a bit, pulling you into his chest, letting you curl against him, the rapid hum of his heart loud in your ear, easing you immediately, “He said that he didn’t care if they put me over the table and fucked me, he would fire me if I didn’t apologize to them.”

Simon’s arms tightened around you immediately, cursing under his breath, “He made you apologize to them?” 

You nod your head, “It was so humiliating, Si. B-But I just didn’t want to lose my job. They just laughed at me and made a joke of it.”

“Pieces of shit,” he hisses, pressing a kiss against your temple, “They better hope I don’t find them.”

You’d really love to see them blubbering on their knees, crying and terrified like you had been. They wouldn’t be so awful in the face of a guy bigger and stronger than them – someone like Simon. 

“I should have gone to the bar tonight,” he sighed, “Even though you told me not to, I wanted to.”

“It’s okay, Si,” you sniffle, “I’m just glad you’re here now.”

You wrap your leg around his waist and snuggle deeper into his chest, finally feeling content to sleep so long as you got to be in his arms. 

You wake up late, well into the afternoon. You’re groggy and struggle to pull yourself out of bed. Simon isn’t in bed, so you force yourself up in search of him. 

As you left, you noticed that the clothes you were wearing last night were gone and weren’t in the laundry basket. You knew for a fact that you left them on the floor. 

He’s relaxing on the couch as usual. His hair is wet and you can smell your body wash wafting off of him when you crawl onto the couch beside him. He reaches a hand out and pets your head gently as a greeting.

“Sleep well?” he asks. You nod your head, “Hungry?” You nod again.

He huffs through his nose and stands up, pressing a fleeting kiss to the top of your head to go prepare something for you to eat. The sound of Simon bustling about the kitchen filled the apartment and you found yourself relaxing into the couch. 

“Simon?” you called, getting to your feet to make your way to the kitchen. 

He had his back to you as he fried up something in the pan but he hummed in response nonetheless.

“Where did my clothes from last night go?” you ask softly.

He pauses his stirring of the food, “Threw them out. Figured you wouldn’t want to see them when you woke up.”

“Oh,” you respond. 

Your heart feels full at his show of care. It was quiet actions like that that just made you feel so…in love, you think before correcting yourself. Fluttery. Cared for. Loved. 

No, he doesn’t love you.

You shake your head and move to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water, going to sit on the couch to wait for Simon to finish cooking. 

The day was spent like that, just you and Simon in your flat. Him just keeping you company and keeping your mind off of things. 

You were curled up against him, listening to the beating of his heart and watching the movie he had decided to play. It was peaceful. He smelled nice, like you. And he was so comfortable beneath you, firm and big. 

His thighs were spread wide, one of your legs thrown over one of his, only serving to make you more aware of how big and firm he was. Solid. Well-built. 

Handsome.

You cast a glance at his face. His brown eyes were half-lidded as he mindlessly nibbled at his bottom lip. They looked soft and shiny. You wondered what he tasted like, how he kissed.

Was he rough? Soft? Did he like to use tongue. 

You’d never kissed anyone before. You wondered if he would be okay with that. You knew some guys liked experienced partners and some liked them inexperienced. You wonder what he preferred. 

Just the idea of kissing him had your heart hammering in your chest and your face burning. You quickly looked at the TV, snuggling closer to him. He squeezed you closer, hand mindlessly rubbing up and down your back. 

Kissing Simon…you pictured him over you, cupping your cheeks in the way he always does. You imagine him pressing his pretty lips against yours, moving them softly against yours. You imagine what it would feel like for him to pin you down, sliding his tongue into your mouth as you moaned and whimpered beneath him, unable to move anywhere because he’s so much bigger and stronger than you. In charge. 

Your pussy clenches around nothing, already starting to drip into your panties. Suddenly you sit up, eyes wide and cheeks flush. Simon looks perturbed, an eyebrow raised at your sudden movement.

“I’ve got to take a shower,” you shakily supply before fleeing to the safety of the bathroom.

You look at yourself in the mirror, hand over your mouth to quiet your heavy breathing. 

What the hell was wrong with you? How the hell could you be thinking about sex and getting turned on after yesterday? How could you be thinking about Simon like that when he was right there? What the fuck was your problem?

You hastily reached over and turned the shower on, the pipes clanking loudly as the water flowed through them. 

Shouldn’t you be the opposite of horny after what happened yesterday? Maybe you really were broken. 

You strip and quickly step into the shower, turning the water as hot as it would possibly go. You needed it to hurt so you would stop acting like such a freak. Like a slut. 

You fight back tears as you begin to wash up. 

By the time your shower is done, you’re exhausted again. You dry off and wrap the towel around yourself, opening the door to find Simon standing on the other side. You jump and gasp, placing a hand over your heart to calm the beating.

“You scared me!” you whine, slipping past him to the bedroom.

“Wanted to check on you,” he says, following slowly behind you, watching as you pick out clothes.

“I’m fine,” you assure him, “I just got really tired and I’d like to turn in early, that’s all.”

“Alright,” he replies, standing there for a second before making his way back to the door, “Just call if you need anything.”

“I will!” you offer him a smile, watching as he leaves, closing the door behind him. 

You quickly dress and climb into bed, turning the lights out before squeezing your eyes shut to will yourself to sleep. Surprisingly, it came quickly and easily – maybe you were more tired than you thought. 

Little did you know that Simon took the opportunity of you sleeping early to slip away and take a little 15 minute walk. 

When you start to dream, you’re acutely aware that it’s a dream. You’re not sure how but, you just know that you’re sleeping and none of this is real.

But god it feels real and you want it to be real so you go along with it. 

Simon is there, you’re both in your bed. He’s got his shirt off and he’s on top of you, kissing your neck softly. Sweetly. 

He doesn’t smell like your body wash anymore, he smells like his – a crisp, musky scent that you love so dearly. And he’s so warm against you. 

You realize that you’re only wearing a pair of panties when his lips suddenly attach to your breast, mouthing at your nipple. His tongue swirls over the bud and it feels so good you can’t help but moan. 

“Si…” you sigh, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. He rewards you by surging up and pressing his lips against yours. He tastes vaguely like mint and it’s intoxicating. So simple, nothing special or poetic. Just mint. Simon. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and eagerly kiss him back. Kissing is easy, you hazily think. You just move your lips in time with his and it falls into place. 

Simon’s hips move against yours and you cry out when you feel the hard swell of his cock press against you through his sweatpants and your panties. He’s so hard and it's so hot even through the layers of clothes. 

“Si…” you whimper again.

“I’m here, love,” he coos, “I’ve got you.”

He rocks his hips against yours and fuck, it feels good. You eagerly spread your legs and find yourself wishing that the panties weren’t in the way. You’d love to hear the sticky sound of your pussy against his cock through his sweats. You’d love to see the stain of your slick against them, knowing that you marked him as yours like that. 

You feel hot, that tense warmth growing in your tummy. The promise of pleasure that you’ve never been able to experience. Maybe Simon could supply it. You’re sure he could, actually, you convince yourself.

If he just keeps going, keeps rutting his hips like that, you could cum all messy in your panties. Just for him. Only for him. 

Just as you swear it’s going to wash over you, your eyes fly open and you gasp. Your entire body feels hot and sweaty and you realize you’ve thrown your blanket off of your body. The sun is shining through the window and Simon is nowhere to be seen in bed. 

You swallow, your throat feeling painfully dry. 

Suddenly, the bedroom door creaks open and Simon comes in with a laundry basket. He casts a glance at you and seems to relax when he realizes you’re awake.

“Was doin’ some laundry,” he explains, turning to open your drawers to begin putting the clean clothes away.

“Oh,” you whisper, sounding hoarse, “Thank you, Si.”

As you watch him, you realize he seems tenser than usual. You sit up and bed and watch him put the clothes away until he’s finished. He stands there for a moment before looking over his shoulder at you.

“I uh,” he clears his throat, “I’ve gotta go tonight.”

“Go?” you ask, eyes going wide. You don’t want him to leave, “Go where?”

“I’ve got some work to take care of,” he replies, “Paperwork I’ve been puttin’ off. Gonna pull a late one to get it done.”

“I-I don’t want you to go,” you confess softly, trying to blink back the tears that sting your eyes. You feel so pathetic, crying because he needs to leave. But you haven’t been without him since it happened and you’re scared to be alone with just your thoughts.

“I know,” he hums, taking a seat at the foot of the bed, cupping your cheek, “I’ll just be a call away, you know. If you need me, I’ll be there.”

“Promise?” you ask. He nods, teasingly pinching your cheek before you smile and bat his hand away. When he pulls it back you notice his knuckles – bruised and split open. They weren’t like that last night you were sure of it, “Simon…”

He catches you looking and gives you a tense smile, “Don’t worry about it.”

He stands up and kisses your forehead before turning and leaving the room, leaving you to get ready for the day. 

Thankfully, Simon remains around for the day. You notice he’s on his phone a lot more, typing away. It’s unlike him, he’s more the type to do phone calls rather than text. When you ask him about it he just waves you off with an explanation about Soap being on his ass. 

You have a feeling he’s lying but you don’t pry. 

Before he leaves, he makes you dinner. You walk him to the door, unable to stop the pout on your face when he puts his boots on. You can’t help but wish that he’d change his mind at the last second and stay with you after all. 

But he doesn’t. He pulls his balaclava over his face and slips his hood up before turning back to you. 

“Don’t cry, love,” he coos, wiping a stray tear away, “I promise I’ll get all my work done and I’ll be all yours for a good long while.”

“Okay…” you sound so miserable but you can’t bring yourself to care, “I’ll miss you.”

He brings you in for a hug, making sure to squeeze you nice and tight before he pulls back. He can’t give you his normal kiss because of the mask and that only makes you sadder. 

You don’t want him to go. You don’t want him to go. You want him to stay. You want to keep him close. He makes you feel safe. He makes you feel complete. You love him so much. 

You hold onto his hoodie for as long as you can until he has to shake you off and close the door behind him. And you stand there for a long time. Like a puppy who's been left home alone for the first time, just waiting for its owners to come back because it’s scared it’s going to be alone forever. 

By the time you bring yourself to leave the door, the food Simon made you is cold. That only seems to make you feel worse. 

Then you sit on the couch and watch TV, feeling hopelessly alone. You wished you had Simon to curl into and snuggle with. The tiny couch has never felt bigger. 

You shower and brush your teeth, pouting at the sight of his toothbrush, another reminder that he isn’t there. 

Before that night at the bar, you never would have felt so isolated without him; lonely, sure. But now that you’re experiencing this gut-wrenching emptiness, you feel close to tears every time you think about him. He was truly your rock, the only thing that brought you comfort. You loved him.

You flop against the bed and let the tears fall down your temples. You love him. You do.

You’re so fucking in love with him that it hurts. Your heart aches in your chest. You want him there to hold you. 

You know he doesn’t feel the same, you know it will never become anything. But you’re willing to take whatever you can get. Just his company. You can be content so long as he’s with you, as long as he’s in your life. 

But you can think about him, imagine yourself telling him how you feel. Imagine that when he holds you close that he feels the same too. That he loves you. You want him to love you so desperately. 

You wish that he loved you. 

You curled into his pillow, sniffling pathetically as you closed your eyes. You cry yourself to sleep. 

Your eyes fly open and the gasp you let out changes to a sob. All you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears. All you see is flashes of their faces in your head. All you can feel are their hands on you. 

A nightmare, your brain supplies but it does nothing to quell your anxiety and fear.

You reach for Simon, instinctive and desperate. But you only touch the cold mattress and you’re reminded that he isn’t home tonight. 

You fumble through the sheets to find your phone.

I’ll just be a call away, you know. If you need me, I’ll be there. 

He promised.

You can barely see the screen as you look for his contact. You call him, hands trembling as you hold it to your ear. It rings and rings and rings. Then beeps and goes to voicemail.

You hang up and try again. And again. And again.

He doesn’t answer. Why won’t he answer? He promised.

You call him again but it goes straight to voicemail. You can practically feel your heart shatter in your chest. He was ignoring your calls. He ignored you. 

But he had promised he would come when you needed him. And you needed him. 

Your phone becomes completely blurry through your tears as you begin to cry in earnest. You feel hurt, betrayed, disappointed, and angry. You’re fucking angry. 

You suddenly need to let it out. So you take your phone in your hand and throw it, listening to it slam against the wall. It’s loud and the light on your screen goes out. But you don’t feel better. You’re still a mess of volatile emotions. It feels like it’s all bottled up inside you and it hurts. 

You take his pillow and grip it in your fists. You want to rip it to shreds, want to tear it open and release all your anger on it. Instead, you just slam your fists against it. 

Then you do it again. And again. And again. 

You punch the damned thing as you cry and cry. You’re sure you must be a sight. You must be making so much noise as you sob and shriek. 

You were angry at what happened to you, you were angry you had apologize to them for hurting you, you were angry because you couldn’t even sleep peacefully without being plagued by a nightmare the first night you were without Simon, and you were angry he broke his fucking promise. 

Before long, all you were doing was sobbing into his pillow – wailing and crying your broken heart out. You tire yourself out, completely exhausted of all emotions. You lay there, quietly hiccuping and sniffling, just staring into the inky darkness. 

You’re there for hours, unable to fall back asleep. The sun slowly creeps over the horizon and begins to cast an orange glow around the room. 

You can’t even find beauty in it. You’re so exhausted. Your heart aches. It’s agonizing. 

It’s early morning by the time you hear your front door open. You don’t feel excited to see him. You’re not happy he’s back. You don’t feel anything, actually. All you can do is slowly blink, gaze focused outside the window where you can faintly hear birds chirping. 

You wish you were a bird so you could fly away wherever you want. You would fly away from here right now if you could. You wanted to leave. 

You didn’t want to see Simon. You were so angry at him. You’ve never felt like this about him before. You don’t know what to do. All you can think right now is how much you hate him. 

God, you hate him. 

He’s surprisingly quiet as he walks through your apartment. You hear him push the door open, your back to him. But you can feel his eyes on you, can feel how he hovers in the doorway. 

He wanders further into the room before pausing. 

He rounds to your side of the bed and sees that you’re awake, simply staring out the window. He holds your phone up, screen clearly shattered before he places it on the table beside you. 

“You called,” he says softly, shifting anxiously on his feet. Simon’s never anxious. But he is right now, “I’m sorry I didn’t answer. I was just…busy. Had some unruly recruits, you know how it is.”

Your eyes finally move from the window, landing on him. He’s wearing the same thing he was last night. Just some jeans and white t-shirt. It’s a nice one, it fits him well and it looks comfy. 

Simon stands there under your gaze, growing increasingly uncomfortable. He’s not used to feeling scrutinized. And that’s exactly what your gaze feels like. 

Your eyes wander to a strange discoloration on his shirt. It’s tan, just a light stain. There’s a tiny smear of black as well. Then you spot the red on his collar, ruby red. 

He looks guilty. He would look like a kicked puppy if you didn’t know any better. This isn’t guilt because he missed your call. He’s guilty because he was too busy getting his dick wet to answer you. 

That’s why he ignored you? To fuck someone?

You’re no longer numb. You’re angry again. That overwhelming feeling that you have no idea how to let out. It’s like it just boils up inside you, like a pot boiling over. It has no place to go but out. 

You’re moving before you even have a chance to register it. You just need to show him how angry you are. Fucking furious. 

You grab the empty glass on your nightstand and wail it in his direction harder than you thought possible. Simon barely dodges, slamming himself against the wall as it shatters behind him. 

Now he looks angry. Good. Maybe he’ll feel a fraction of what you feel right now. 

“Are you out of your fucking head?” he snarls, animosity dripping off of every syllable. 

You don’t even answer, grabbing a book that you have stacked there before throwing that too. Then the second book. Then the third book. Then you throw your phone at him. Then you take the lamp, rip the plug right from the wall and throw that too. 

When you’re out of things to throw on the table you throw your pillow. It’s when you’re about to throw his pillow that he finally has enough. He rips it from your grasp and tosses it across the room. 

He’s standing there, fists balled at his sides and his shoulders heaving up and down as he tries to calm himself. 

“I hate you,” you finally spit, standing on your knees. You don’t have anything to throw so you slam your hands against his chest. You hit him, crying and sobbing as you wail over and over about how you hate him. You hate him so fucking much. 

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” you scream. You’re so loud you’re sure the neighbors can hear but you don’t care. It feels good to let your anger out on him, to punch and slap and claw at his shoulders, chest, and arms. He doesn’t do anything but stand there and let you. He’d never lay a hand on you, even when you’re doing it to him, “I needed you and you were too busy fucking some stupid whore?!”

He doesn’t say anything but he’s trembling now. You’re not sure if he’s just that angry or if he’s holding himself back from wringing your neck. 

You pause to look up at him. His jaw is set hard but he’s staring at you, his usual lazy, lidded look nowhere to be found. He looks enraged. 

“Aren’t you going to say something?” you spit, raising your hand as if you’re going to slap him across the face but you stop. You don’t want to do that. 

“Say what?” he finally responds, voice so cold you swear it drops the room’s temperature, “I have a life that doesn’t revolve around you. That’s the difference between us. You need me but I don’t need you.”

You sit back on your heels at that, the hurt clear on your face. Simon doesn’t seem to care in the slightest now, as tears trickle down your face. You must look a sight, pathetically gazing up at him as he glares down at you like you’re dog shit on the bottom of his shoe.

“You hate me?” he scoffs, “That’s just fine. We’ll see how long you last without me before you’re hanging from a bloody rope.”

He turns on his heel at that and storms out of your room, slamming your bedroom door behind him. It practically rattles the walls. Then you hear the same thing from the front door. 

And you’re all alone. And you can’t do anything but cry about it. 

You find it impossible to get out of bed after that. You lay there for the rest of the day. Then all night. You fitfully sleep when you can’t bear to be awake anymore and then wake when the nightmares hit. 

Then you watch the sun come up and decide that it’s a good day to spend in bed. So you do. You sleep on and off, only waking to cry when you’re plagued with nightmares. 

You occasionally think about Simon. More than occasionally, actually. He’s always on your mind.

You think everything over and come to the conclusion that this was all your fault. From the beginning, really. You’d been keen on staying in his life since you were children, attached yourself to his side and weaseled your way into his life. Really, you gave him no choice but to put up with you. 

He was everything to you. He was right, you needed him. You didn’t have anyone else. No friends, no family, not even a pet. Just him. Always just him. 

What choice did he have other than to put up with you day after day? He didn’t need you like you needed him, after all. He’d surely been spending his days in dread of you – of your texts, your calls. 

This was probably what he was waiting for; an escape. He probably wanted to leave a long, long time ago. You were in love with him and he wanted nothing to do with you. 

What were you thinking? Actually believing that he would want to spend his days with you, taking care of you. Who were you kidding, you were just an idiot for letting yourself believe otherwise. 

You wake up one day and realize you’re not angry anymore. Just sad. You almost prefer the anger and emptiness compared to the unending waves of sadness. 

You cry all the time. Day and night. 

You try to use your phone, you want to call him but it’s broken. The screen won’t even turn on. You’re completely alone, can’t even contact somebody – not that you have anyone but him. 

God, that was embarrassing now that you thought about it. There he was going out and getting laid and you’ve been holding out for him since you were a kid. 

You’re suddenly aware of the fact you haven’t showered in days. You’ve barely eaten, only getting up once or twice to find something to nibble on in the kitchen – a slice of bread is what you usually settle on. 

You pry yourself up from your mattress and stumble to the bathroom. The clanging of pipes is louder than it’s ever been but the hot water is completely welcome. 

When you stand there, under the burning heat that makes your skin raw, you slowly sink to the shower floor. You haven’t cleaned it in a while but you can’t bring yourself to care. 

You let yourself cry again, since it’s all you can do. By the time you’re done, the water is running cold and you stand up to quickly wash yourself with soap so you can at least be clean for the next few days until you can bring yourself to shower again. 

It’s when you’re crawling into bed that it suddenly dawns on you that you don’t have a job. You hadn’t shown up to your shift in days. And you don’t have Simon anymore. 

Panic takes shape and you realize you can’t relax. If you don’t find a job soon you’re going to be on your ass and homeless by next month. 

You haul yourself out of bed and begin rooting through your drawers for something to wear. 

Maybe you can go back to the bar and beg for your job back. You’ll do anything if you have to. 

You’re going to prove to yourself and to Simon that you’ll make it without him – and you won’t end up hanging from a fucking rope. 

The sunlight practically burns your skin from not feeling it in a while. Winter is coming in and it’s already damn cold out and you can see your breath. But you ignore it, wrapping your jacket tighter around yourself as you book it for the bar. 

You’re filled with utter dread as soon as you open the door. There’s a couple patrons already drinking and you wonder what day it is. 

You look around, searching for your old boss. He’s nowhere on the floor so you make your way to the staff room and ultimately his office in the very back. 

You only realize you’re trembling when you raise your hand to knock on the door. But you bite back your fear when you’re reminded that you need the job. You need it. 

“Enter,” you hear his chilling voice call. You take a breath and push the door open. He freezes the second he lays eyes on you, he sports a black eye and a busted lip, “You.” 

“M-Mr. Dawson,” you shakily whisper, “I-I know I haven’t showed up in a few days and I’m really sorry but–”

“You want your job back,” he finishes, tossing his head back to laugh, “You want your fucking job back? After you sent that fucking lunatic here?”

“Sent who…?” you ask softly, willing your knees to stop quaking. 

“That asshole in the skull mask. Beat the shit out of me and my blasted customers. You think I’m going to let you back in after that?” he laughs again, “You’re out of your fucking mind, you dumb bitch.”

You wince at the insult, “I-I didn’t send him. H-He was a friend of mine and he did it on his own but–”

“You can have your job back,” he says suddenly, making you freeze, “If you come over here and bend over my desk for me.”

“What..?” you ask softly, watching him sit back and lick his lips as his eyes raked down your body.

“You heard me,” he snickers, “Bend over my desk and let me fuck you and I’ll let you have your job back.”

Granted, for a second, you think about it. You really do. To just let him do it. But you can’t. You know you can't, you would never do that to yourself. 

“N-No,” you find yourself whispering, “I won’t do that…”

His smile fades quickly when you say that and his lip curls in disgust and anger, “Should have let those blokes take you out back and leave you bloody in the alleyway like you deserve.”

You leave with your head hanging low and find yourself standing on the street, fighting tears. You only feel worse than before you went in. 

When you get home, you stand there and cry. That’s all you’ve been doing lately, crying. At this rate, Simon’s prophecy is going to come true and you’re going to be hanging from a damn rope. It sounds nice right about now, actually. Anything to stop the horrific pain that you feel. 

You crawl back into bed and don’t get back up that night. Or the next day. 

The only thing that gets you up the day after that is a painful twang in your stomach. You stumble your way to the kitchen and pull out the loaf of bread you’ve been nibbling at but frown when you see some pieces have begun to mold. 

You take a look in the fridge, finding it painfully empty. The vegetables and fruits that were in there have gone bad now. The meat you had bought was all used up from when Simon cooked. You didn’t even have any cup ramens because you opted to not buy any last time. 

So you resort yourself to tearing the moldy parts off the bread and eating what's left. 

As you stand there, you realize you feel so tired. Like your legs can’t hold you up, so you allow yourself to sink to the floor, back leaning against the cabinet. 

You almost want to laugh at yourself over what you’ve become. Eating moldy bread on the kitchen floor and crying to yourself. 

You place the bread in the refrigerator in hopes that that will stop its rotting process but you don’t have much hope. 

Then, you’re back in bed. And you’re so exhausted. It’s impossible to keep your eyes open any longer. So you sleep. 

But then you have another nightmare. You can’t even remember what it was about, you’re too exhausted to even jolt awake like you usually do. 

Instead, your eyes open and they’re already filled with tears before you even get the chance to register the fact you’re awake. 

So you lay like that. For a long time. Just staring at nothing. The tears stop on their own and you’re left exhausted as usual. It’s become your default state and you begin to wonder if you’re going to feel this broken and hurt forever. 

You zone out, letting your mind go hazy and erase all thoughts from it. 

You don’t even hear your front door open. Don’t hear the boots on the floor. Don’t hear your bedroom door open. 

You hear a call of your name and that gets your attention. But you don’t hear anything else. 

Your imagination? You don’t have a lamp anymore to turn on. You’d thrown it at Simon and it broke.

Suddenly, light floods your bedroom and you bolt up in bed. A large, familiar figure blocks your doorway, a silhouette against the now illuminated hallway. 

He calls your name again and your heart skips a beat. 

“Si?” you whisper, choking on a sob when he steps further into the room. 

He’s got you gathered up in his arms faster than you can think. He’s so warm and it feels so good to have him in your arms again. You wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him – hold him so fiercely that you’re worried you may actually break him. 

“Shh,” he coos into your ear, “It’s alright, everything’s alright.”

“S-Simon…” you can’t help but wail, clawing at the back of his hoodie as if you can feel him any closer than he already was. 

“I’m here,” he sighs, kissing the top of your head, “I’m here. It’s okay. Shit, just let it out. I fucked up, sweetheart, I did. Just breathe and we’ll make everything better, alright?”

“I’m sorry,” you find yourself apologizing through tears, “I-I don’t hate you, Si. I don’t, I promise. I-I was just mad. I’m sorry I was mean.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” he consoles you, cupping the back of your head as you sob, “I’m the one who fucked everything up. It was a fuckin’ mistake.”

You can’t even formulate a response, too choked up with your cries that you let out into the soft cotton of his hoodie. You feel nothing but relief at having him in your arms again, you’re almost scared that he’s going to disappear if you let go. 

But he stays there, shushing you and occasionally kissing the top of your head as he rocks you back and forth on the bed. 

Before long, your cries finally quiet and you’re left curled up against him, quietly sniffling to yourself. His grip on you remains firm, unwilling to let you go. 

After several, long minutes, he finally speaks, “Why don’t you go wash up, hm? Nice, hot, shower. I’ll fix you up some food, sound good?”

You sniffle and blearily look up at him, your lashes sticking together from your dried tears, “I don’t have anything.”

“I’ll make you some ramen cups,” he responds. 

He doesn’t like them being part of your diet but it seems he was willing to overlook it just this once so could get something on your stomach. 

“Don’t have any,” you sound completely congested as you talk, sitting up a little to wipe your cheeks.

“None?” he asks, keeping his hands on your body even as you move off of his lap. 

You shake your head, “I didn’t buy any last time I went shopping.”

“What the hell have you been eating then?” he mumbles, slowly standing up from the bed. 

You wince when you hear his knees and back pop from the movement, “I haven’t had much of an appetite but I’ve got some bread…”

Simon is silent after that, nonsensically looking around the room, seemingly taking stock of what's around him. Then he sighs, running a hand through his cropped hair before patting you on the head.

“I’ll order then,” he assures you, “Go ahead and shower, yeah?”

You do as you’re told, eager to wash the drying tears off of your face and hopefully wash away the lingering sadness. You know that you and Simon have a lot to talk about, but you figure it can wait until you’re both mentally prepared for it. 

You feel more refreshed than you have in days when you step out of the shower. You feel a surge of anxiety in your chest when you think maybe he had left while you were showering but when you pause to really listen, you can hear him shuffling about the flat. 

When you slip into your bedroom, you’re shocked to see that your bed has been completely stripped. He also swept up the broken remnants of the glass and lamp you had thrown at him and picked up the books. He had picked up some scattered pieces of clothes and put them in the laundry basket where they belonged. 

You get yourself dressed and place your dirty clothes in the basket so you don’t undo the work that Simon had done. 

You hear a knock on your door and it makes you jump but Simon quickly answers it. He calls your name to let you know the food has arrived and you quickly make your way to the kitchen. 

He’s methodically separating the food he had ordered into two separate groups, clearly having ordered for himself as well. 

It smells positively delicious and you find your mouth watering as your stomach growls. 

You turn to the fridge, opening it to grab a bottle of water out of it. You notice that the loaf of bread you had in there is gone, most likely thrown out by Simon when he realized it was moldy.

You feel your cheeks burn in shame when you imagine him knowing that you had been eating moldy bread because you couldn’t afford to buy groceries – although, even if you had all the money in the world, you were sure you wouldn’t have felt like going out to get any. You wouldn’t have been able to order since you’d broken your phone. 

You open the styrofoam tray and immediately start devouring the chicken tenders he had ordered for you. It was simple, easy, and tasty. He clearly didn’t want to order you anything too hefty given the fact you’ve been existing on bread. 

He had a burger, taking slow bites of it and occasionally nibbling at his fries. You took the opportunity to look him over. 

He honestly looked the same as ever. He didn’t have dark circles or bags under his eyes like you did. He didn’t have red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes from crying for days. For some reason that made a pang of resentment surge through you. He seemed completely unbothered by everything that had happened. Unbothered, even. 

His words ring out through your head like a bell. 

“We’ll see how long you last without me before you’re hanging from a bloody rope.”

Tears sting the back of your eyes again but you bite them back, choosing to take a bite of your french fries. You realize now that you can hear the washing machine going. Clearly, he had put your bedding in there to wash. 

Maybe he was right, you couldn’t survive without him. Couldn’t even wash your own damn laundry. 

“What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” he interrupts your self-deprecating thoughts. 

“Oh, um,” you scramble to think of what to say. Something not depressing or something that could upset him, “I was just wondering what you’ve been up to these few days!”

You try your hardest to sound chipper and interested. You’re positive he doesn’t buy the act in the slightest from the soft, pained look he gives you. But he thankfully plays along. You’re grateful because you don’t want to cry again.

“I was uh,” he cleared his throat and took a sip of water, “I was on base, actually. Nothin’ interesting, really. What, uh, what about you?”

You feel your smile falter and you look down at your food, “Nothing interesting. Tried to get my job back but that was a bust,” you chuckled, playing it off like a goofy anecdote, “Turns out your ex-boss doesn’t like when he gets beat to shit because of you!”

Simon drops his burger into his tray and his nonchalant expression turns sour in half a second, “You tried to go back to work at that shithole? Why the fuck would you do that? You know it’s not good for you!”

All over again, you feel your body flush with anger, and you’re shouting at him before you know it, “What the fuck was I supposed to do, Simon?! You left and I had no idea what the fuck I was supposed to do without you. I assumed you were gone forever,” you voice pathetically broke but you ignored it, tearfully glaring at him, “All you said was that I was gonna end up killing myself and I was doing everything in my power to prove you wrong.”

“You should have known me better than that!” he shouted, slamming his hands on the countertop, “I never would have left you–”

“That’s exactly what you did!” you shriek, pointing an accusing finger at him, “You left me! You ignored me when I needed you to go get laid and then left like I was nothing to you! Look at you for fuck’s sake, I’m a fucking wreck and you look like you couldn’t have fared better! I almost let that scumbag fuck me just to get my fucking job back, Simon! All because you left me.”

For once in his life, Simon seems utterly lost for words. The only sound in the small kitchen was the steady dripping of your leaky sink and you’re stuttering, sharp breaths as you force yourself to not break down all over again. 

“I should have known you better?” you whisper, resting your hands on the countertop, hanging your head so you can catch your breath, “Apparently I should have. Maybe then I would have known better to depend on you like that.”

Simon stands there, across the counter from you but feeling like he was miles away. You could hear his breathing stutter every few seconds, like he was gearing up to say something but he seemingly changed his mind every time. 

The washing machine jingle rang through the apartment and he immediately stepped away. 

Typical. Simon was never the type to truly let himself be emotionally vulnerable so there was no reason for you to expect it now. 

With him out of the room, you took the chance to wind yourself down, taking a few more bites of your tenders. You could hear Simon moving the laundry to the dryer, slamming it closed before turning it on. 

But he doesn’t reappear, evidently hiding out in the tiny room off the kitchen where your washer and dryer were. He was probably collecting himself just like you. But he appears a second later, lingering out of the corner of your eye. You can see him looking at you but you can’t bear to look back at him.

“I didn’t…” he pauses, taking a breath, “I wasn’t…” he lets out a sound of frustration before he tries again, “I wasn’t okay while I was gone.” 

He doesn’t say anything more. It was evident that that was all he was willing to give up in the moment. But you want more from him, you need more. 

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to get past this, Simon,” you whisper, “Everything’s so fucked up. I’m fucked up.”

“I am too,” he says softly, drumming his fingers against the counter, “We’ll fix it.”

His assurance marks the end of the conversation and you both resume eating the dinner he had ordered. But it’s silent and neither of you make an attempt to fill it. 

Once the food is eaten, you take a seat on the couch, knees pulled up to your chest as Simon takes your laundry basket from your bedroom and puts the clothes in the washer. 

Your eyelids feel heavy and you wish so desperately that you could crawl into bed and sleep. You suddenly realize that you have no idea what time it is. 

“Simon?” you call out when you catch him passing by. He stops at your calling, raising an inquisitive brow, “What time is it?”

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone, unlocking it so he can see, “9:20.”

“Oh…” you respond, tucking your head back into your knees. 

Simon walks away at that and you briefly wonder what he’s doing now. But your eyelids are so heavy and you’re finding it so hard to think clearly. 

You’re pulled from your sleep a soft hand petting over your head. Your eyes slowly drift open and you’re met with Simon’s sweet, brown eyes. 

“Made your bed,” he says so softly, thumbing over your cheek, “Go ahead and get some proper sleep.”

You nod your head and sit up, briefly wondering how you managed to flop over on your side without waking up. Simon takes your hands and helps you to your feet.

You stumble down the hallway and immediately toss yourself onto your bed. You don’t even bother to crawl under the blanket, simply drop your head onto the pillow and let sleep overcome you. 

When you wake up next, it’s from a nightmare. You gasp into consciousness, eyes wide open in the inky blackness of your bedroom. Your heart pounds in your ears and you find yourself panting, trying to stabilize yourself. 

A heavy weight tosses itself over your middle and you almost panic before you smell Simon’s cologne. Immediately, you relax and sink back into the bed. 

“You’re okay,” he whispers, voice thick with sleep, “I’ve got you.”

“I want it to stop,” you find yourself whispering, feeling so utterly exhausted, “The nightmares.”

Simon tugs you over to him, tucking you securely against his chest, his arm like a heavy weight draped across your abdomen, “We’ll get you fixed up.”

As you close your eyes and sink into his embrace, all you can think is that you should have never been broken in the first place. 

You finally sleep through the night but you wake up feeling far from refreshed. What’s most shocking is that you’re still wrapped up in Simon’s arms – and he’s still asleep. The sun is well risen now, he should have been up and about a while ago. He never strays from his schedule.

You find yourself staring at him. It wasn’t often that you got the chance to see him so peaceful. His lashes were so long, brushing his cheeks. You rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart and the deep sound of his breathing. Your eyes slowly drift closed again and you let yourself drift off to sleep once more. 

When you wake up next, it’s because Simon is trying to carefully move you off of his chest so he can get up. You whine and find yourself clinging to him again.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he mutters, settling back against the headboard. He wraps his arms around you and lets you melt against him again, your head resting against his chest.

“You slept late,” you find yourself commenting.

“Yeah, uh,” he clears his throat and softly rubs your back, “I haven’t had the chance to sleep much. Base is pretty loud.”

You want to mention that it’s never been a problem for him before but you bite it back. Instead, you hum in response. 

As you’re left in the still quietness of the late morning with him, you realize that you still have no idea how you feel about him. You don’t know how you feel about him being back. On one hand, you’ve missed him so, so dearly and you feel so complete with him by your side. You feel safer and more whole, like you could actually start healing again. 

But on the other hand, there feels like there’s a wall separating you two. The fight you two had is a heavy weight that seems to continuously pull you under the water despite how hard you fight to resurface for air. 

You love him, you really do. 

But you’re still so angry at him. 

And it feels like neither of you are going to actually talk about it properly. 

The two of you eventually make it out of bed and get moving around. You still don’t have any groceries but Simon simply orders something for breakfast again.

“Somethin’ I need to ask you,” he says, suddenly terrifyingly serious as the two of you stand in the kitchen eating.

Anxiety flares through you but you try to appear calm and cool, “About?”

“You said that,” he takes a second to collect himself, seemingly searching for the right words, “You almost slept with that guy for your job back.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, “Yeah…what about it?” 

Simon paused when he heard the defensiveness in your voice, “You really almost did that?”

You frown, “So what? I can do what I want, Simon.”

He sighs softly, holding his hands up, “I’m not tryin’ to fight, love.”

“I don’t know why it’s your business,” you mumble, using annoyance to hide the shame you feel, “I just needed a job is all.”

He nods, “You don’t need to worry about that, alright. I’ve got you.”

You take a bite of your sandwich, intent on trying to take the attention off of you, “There’s something I wanted to ask you too.”

“Go ahead,” he says softly, sipping on the drink he ordered – some kind of soda if you had to guess.

“That night…” you start, pausing when you notice the way he stiffens immediately. He plays it off by going back to his food, “You, um, you left to hook up with someone, right?”

He places his sandwich down and sighs, “Yeah.”

“...Why?” you finally ask, “I mean…”

You trail off and Simon remains silent. The tension is so thick you could practically see it between the two of you. Your heart hammers in your chest, anxiety steadily festering the longer he’s quiet. You think he isn’t going to respond at all and start to give up, hanging your head. 

“I wasn’t thinking clearly,” he finally says, “It was a…last minute choice and it shouldn’t have happened.”

He says it but you don’t feel any relief. That concrete weight on your chest isn’t eased in the slightest. It’s an excuse, something he’s saying to get you off his back. And that doesn’t feel good.

“I um…” you clear your throat to get rid of the way it sounds thick, “I’m sorry for that time, by the way. When I was throwing things and I-I hit you. I shouldn’t have done that, it was wrong of me. So, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he says softly, shrugging his shoulders dismissively, “You were upset.”

“Simon…” you mumble, food completely forgotten in front of you, “I want to talk. About everything,” Simon seems annoyed immediately but he tries to hide it. You know him too well for that, though, “I-It was a lot and I think we should talk about it – really talk about it.”

He says your name exasperatedly, turning to open the fridge so he can put his leftover food inside before he slams the door. “I don’t want to talk about anything.”

“But I do,” you say, following him as he storms out of the kitchen, “You said some really mean shit, Si. I want to talk about it!”

He storms into the bedroom, slamming it open as he busies himself with picking up inside. You can tell he’s uncomfortable and simply trying to take his mind off of it. But you’re not going to let him avoid it.

“I don’t,” he snaps, final and harsh.

“I do!” you argue again, “I-I want to know why you said that to me. I want to know how you could–”

“Fuck sake!” he hisses through clenched teeth, ripping his hoodie off of a chair he had tossed it onto. 

He pushes past you, tugging it over his head. You follow him out of the room, watching with wide eyes as he picks up his mask from the coffee table. He tugs it on, painfully silent as he fits it into place. 

“What are you doing?” you finally ask when he gets to the door, slipping his boots on with a grunt, “Where are you going?”

“Out.” he growls, jerking the door open so hard it rattles on its hinges.

“Don’t run from me, Simon!” you cry, grabbing hold of his sleeve to keep him from stepping out, “Are you ever going to tell me you're sorry? Are you ever going to look in my eyes and tell me that you're sorry for what you said to me? For leaving me? Or are you just going to do it again?” 

You can’t fight the tears as you cry out, trying to tug him back into the apartment. But he gives you one final look before he rips his arm from your grasp and slams the door in your face. You’re left alone again, frustrated,  sad and utterly confused. 

You wished he would stop leaving. 

You decide to stay up a little later than you had lately, waiting for him to come home. The oven clock read a little past midnight when you finally called it and crawled into bed. Tugging his pillow to your side, you wrapped yourself around it and tried to imagine that it was him in your arms again. Closing your eyes, you will yourself to fall asleep, no matter how much you want to stay up and wait. 

You’re jostled awake by the weight shifting on the bed. Your eyes flutter open as it creaked under the additional weight. You know it’s Simon, even though your back is to him. He remains silent, clearly trying not to wake you and unaware that he already has. 

The heat radiates off of him in waves, comforting and nice. But despite that, you feel tears welling up until they finally trickle down your cheeks. You can hear Simon’s soft breathing and you can feel him shift every once in a while as he tries to sleep. 

“I can’t do this, Simon,” you find yourself whispering. It’s quiet but you know he hears it, “I want to feel better again. I want to stop being so fucking angry at you but you won’t let me. You just leave me again and I want you to stop. I want…” you suck in a breath and find yourself struggling to continue, simply dissolving into cries. You quiet them as best you can into your pillow.

Simon is painfully silent and still. You’re positive he’s not going to say anything. He’s going to pretend to sleep so he can avoid talking about it because that’s what he does best – avoid. When things get too hard or emotional, he avoids it like the plague. 

You suppose it’s from the way he grew up. A mama’s boy who was punished by his father for showing any kind of emotional vulnerability. It led to him being terrified of it as an adult – he refuses to let himself show that kind of weakness, even to someone who means something to him. And you know that you do – mean something to him, that is. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally whispers, just an echo in the darkness of the room. But it draws you to silence, “I’m sorry,” he repeats, voice thick with emotion, “For what I said to you and for the way I acted that night. I fucked up, I know. It never should have happened. What I said should have never–” he lets out a heavy breath, “I never should have said it.”

You roll over, blinking the tears out of your eyes, which tumble down your cheeks. With a sniffle, you scoot closer to him, his warmth welcome and comforting. He opens his arms for you, letting you situate yourself against him. You rest your head against his shoulder, letting your hand rest against his chest. His own hand comes up to take it in his, bringing it up to press a kiss to your knuckles. 

“You mean…” he trails off again but you remain patient, knowing it’s difficult for him to fight through his desire to flee, “You mean a lot to me. I never want to lose you. You’re…important.”

You nuzzle your head against him, a silent acceptance of his apology. He kisses the top of your head and pulls you more firmly against him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again for good measure.

He didn't look you in the eyes and tell you he was sorry but he did the best he could. In the inky blackness of your bedroom, as you shared a bed, and he held you so sweetly, he finally said what you needed to hear. And that's truly all you could ask for.

PART TWO.

do not modify, translate, or repost.

[hon3y-y]

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !! maybe satoru got a little ahead of himself when he told you to throw away all of your vibrators…

cw : smut (surprised?), sex toys(again, is anyone surprised?), sub-ish!reader, dom-ish!satoru he’s more cheeky than anything, overstim & edging, etc etc…

*not edited*

when satoru was young and immature two weeks ago, he hated vibrators. maybe it was jealousy but when he found your little collection, he became a pouty mess. am i not good enough? do those make you feel better than i do? he even went as far as giving you the silent treatment, stating it was a ‘betrayal’.

you just rolled your eyes, taking his overreaction as immaturity and allowing him to throw his tantrum by himself. it didn’t last long, coming to its end one late saturday night where he climbed into the bed with a cheeky smile on his face.

“show me..” he mumbled, pressing kisses into the soft skin of your neck. his eyes were wide, pleading almost, lip tucked behind his teeth, his hands caressing your exposed skin and slowly unbuttoning the sleep shirt you wore.

“oh but i thought you wanted me to ‘throw all of them out’?” your words made him scoff.

“that wasn’t exactly what i said—“

“toru, i saw the tears in your eyes—“ before you could continue, his lips were on yours. it was rough, trying to shut you up which only made you smile. “you done being a big baby?”

satoru nods before moving to pull off your sleep shorts, “c’mon, i just wanna see”

so of course, that’s what got you into this predicament. you laying down with your head on the pillow while satoru lays on his stomach between your thighs, eyes glistening with mischief as he stares at your panty clad mound. Throughout the past couple of days, toru has made you use a couple toys to help get off, realizing extremely fast how it was becoming his new favorite hobby.

he took in how quick you were to cum, thighs clenching around the toy while you creamed, sticky substance leaving strings on your panties when he became impatient and pulled them off. it was almost addicting. you became so sensitive, eyes welling up when he began to fuck your swollen pussy, “s’too much!”

he just pounded into you harder, mockingly cooing at you. “oh, it’s too much? fine, i’ll stop.” satoru would pull out mid thrust, teasingly rubbing his fat tip against your clenching hole. he would do it until your legs wrapped around his waist to try and push him in, he smiled at the annoyance that came over you, still feisty even when being fucked dumb. “you’re so greedy—can’t ever make up your mind” shaking his head, toru would shove it back in while rubbing your clit making you squeal, an unusual reaction that he was growing accustomed to.

Those toys became his best friends and it was only a matter of time before he wanted to be in control of them. satoru personally loved your wand vibrator, pulling an orgasm out of you quick while also being used in so many different methods and positions. so it wasn’t a shocker that it was that one he picked.

you were comfortable, something he had been checking the whole time. He felt giddy, dick hard just from thinking about it. He made sure to start off slow and ease you into it, putting it on a low setting before teasingly dragging it up and down the crease of your panties, biting his lips after hearing your breath hitch whenever the tiny vibrations passed your aching clit.

“how does that feel, pretty girl?” he kissed your thigh softly, turning up the vibration to hear the gasp as you opened your mouth to speak.

“g-good!”

your words got choked up in your throat, hips bucking as he pushed it down on your bud. meanwhile, satoru watched in fascination as the damp spot on your panties grew bigger and bigger, mouth watering as he gently pressed his nose against it before his tongue lolled out to take a swipe. “satoru!” you gasped, hands moving to tug on his hair and pull it back, a heat climbing up your body in embarrassment.

he smiled sheepishly, turning up the vibrations another level which quickly made your hands loosen as your jaw fell open to let out a moan. “now's not the time to scold, dear~”

he pulls away, shutting off the vibrator while sitting on his knees. you felt a little light headed, eyebrows furrowing, “you're done?”

he shook his head, instead, pulling your panties down and flinging them across the room, fingers moving to play in your wetness before slowly dragging his soaked appendage to your clit to swirl around, “just lay back and relax your pretty little head. i know what i’m doing.”

he picked the vibrator back up, once again on its lowest setting and began using it to dip into your messy hole and spread the juices to the rest of your pussy. he felt like he was painting a pretty picture, eyes zeroing into his muse while his other hand wrapped around your thick thigh to pull it open.

he did this for a while, secretly watching and enjoying the way you were growing frustrated, pussy clamping around nothing as a frown overtook your lips. “toru—enough!”

he smiled, biting back a laugh at the whining. “fine..” you huffed, leaning back on the pillow.

you heard it before you felt it, the vibrations sounding stronger. you sat up, confused before the feeling of pure euphoria washed over you, causing your jaw to loosen and your eyes to cross and roll back. you felt like you couldn’t breathe, the stimulation almost too much, your hands moving to push it away, “too much! please—i can’t!”

but satoru just clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment, “first it’s not enough, now it’s too much… this stupid thing can’t satisfy you, huh?” he pushes your hands away, positioning himself between your legs in a way that made it hard to shut them. “what do you think baby?”

finishing his sentence he began to move it up and down, the feeling making your stomach lurch and shedding some of the tears that gathered in your eyes. it felt too good, borderline brutal against your sensitive pussy.

you couldn’t even acknowledge his question, whimpers and pants filled the room along with mindless babbles of his name. “i’m—s’close! oh fuck—satoru! d-dont sto—p”

your hands claw at the sheets as you begin to tremble, your vision going blurry and the pressure in your stomach is released in pleasurable waves. you didn’t realize you had passed out until you feel a light tapping on your cheek causing your eyes to open slowly. At first, you’re too disoriented to focus. your vision is splotchy and your ears have a small ringing in them.

it takes a couple of seconds for you to register where you are and what just happened, finally taking in your surroundings. the first thing you see once your eyes adjust is satoru staring at you with a shocked grin. “babe..” he leaned down to kiss you, “–that was so hot” his hand reached between you two to pet at your cunt, cooing at the sharp intake of breath you had.

“let’s try again… i’ll leave it on a low setting, i promise” liar

safe to say toys became a frequent tool after that, even going as far as him ordering new ones to “try” including a cock-ring that leaves you both overstimulated, whiny, messes...

the end

a/n; two releases in one day??? who tf am i?? ik, it’s been soooo long but i didn’t have any inspiration</3 i honestly wanna right more sub!jjk characters so if anyone has any ideas they would like to present to the class PLEASEEE🙏 (especially nanami, cause i loveeee him)

[melancholy-of-nadia]

i'm not sure?! (m) | jjk/pjm/kth

title: i'm not sure?!  pairing: jungkook x jimin x taehyung x show producer!reader(f)  rating/genre: m(18+) ; fluff, smut ; the canon idol au summary: You're a producer working on a BTS travel show, called "Are You Sure?!" staring BTS members Jimin and Jungkook, with their fellow member guest star Taehyung. Everything is going well on set as filming for the night comes to an end, but when Jungkook and Jimin inform you that they caught you staring at their shirtless bodies, things quickly escalate between you guys by the poolside. warnings: fluff, language, pwp, threesome, foursome, tit play, nipple play, licking, some body boob worship, blowjobs, hand jobs, eating out, multiple orgasms, ass slapping, light mlm moment, cumming, oral sex (m and f receieving), biting, praise, they all have a big dicks but they're different!, tatted jk and jimin is a warning in itself, jungkook is a bit more rough, jimin is soft :(((, taehyung dom tease!, insinuation that this is not their first rodeo lmfao, kisses note: i am watching are you sure?! and i've thought many thoughts... i hope this one shot can be prescribed to you and heal whatever insane and nasty intrusive thoughts you guys have when watching. i am a simple woman, but these men only slightly older than me have me wrecked :"))) also s/o to @daegudrama for editing despite her busyness total word count: 6.6k drop date: August 29th, 2024 5pm pst ao3 link

A day of filming wrapped as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the lush greenery of Jeju Island.

The final shot had captured the last rays of sunlight glinting off the shimmering pool, where Jimin and Jungkook had been playfully splashing each other and playing mermaids, their laughter echoing through the tranquil evening air. The crew began to pack up the equipment, the usual post-shoot chatter filling the space as everyone prepared to unwind after another successful day.

You, the producer, had been watching the monitors closely, ensuring every moment was captured perfectly for "Are You Sure?"—the travel reality show hosted by BTS members Jimin and Jungkook. You’ve seen how their chemistry was undeniable since filming started out in the US in July. Now, once again, their camaraderie was infectious as they explored the beauty of Jeju, Korea with their fellow bandmate and guest star Taehyung by their side. Each outing in Jeju had been a hit: indoor rock climbing, go-karting, savoring omakase as well as other Jeju delicacies, and now, the pool at the luxurious house accommodation, where they seemed to find endless ways to entertain themselves, and the audiences who would eventually be watching this.

However, throughout this filming project, you found your eyes constantly lingering. The cool blue water rippled gently as Jimin and Jungkook clambered out, their naked torsos glistening in the fading light. It wasn’t the first time you’d caught yourself staring a little too long, mesmerized by the sight of them so effortlessly carefree and touchy. There was something about the way they moved, their playful energy, that made it hard to look away.

You shake off the thought. Get it together, Y/N! You finally got a big gig producing a reality show for BTS in your mid-20s and you cannot be ruining it over your lust. You sigh. Maybe the lack of touch and a relationship is really getting to you, but that’s what happens when you value your career above other mundane things. You have to remind yourself that you have to continue staying professional to make it to the end of filming this.

What you don’t know is that your stares haven’t gone unnoticed, especially by the youngest of the trio, Jungkook.

As you begin to collect your things, your heart skips a beat when you hear a voice call out to you.

“Hey, PD-nim. Can you come join us by the pool for a bit before you go,” Jungkook says, his tone casual, but his smile inviting. “We wanted to talk about tomorrow’s shoot.”

Jimin nods in agreement, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans against the edge of the pool. “Yeah, we’ve got some ideas for tomorrow. Plus, it’s a nice night—no reason to rush off, right?”

You hesitate for a moment, your mind racing. The day has been long, and you can feel the exhaustion settling in. But the chance to spend a few more moments in their company, even if just to discuss the next day's itinerary, is too tempting to resist.

“Uh,” you turn to look around at the other staff, seemingly wondering if you should stay behind.

However, the ones who notice the interaction shrug, seemingly wanting to go back to their accommodation next door and eat dinner. Great.

“Sure, I can stick around for a bit.” trying to keep your voice steady as you walk over to where they’re waiting.

All the staff but you fully exit, closing the large doors that encase you in this space with these beautiful men. You sit on one of the comfortable seats by the pool, nervously hugging your knees as you watch Jimin and Jungkook swim toward you. You notice Taehyung is still inside the living room, lying on the floor as he scrolls on his phone. “Is he coming to join us?” You ask, wondering if there are any concerns for tomorrow, wouldn’t it be good to have him hear this information too?  

“He’ll join us later~” Jimin answers, his tone sounding like he’s up to something, but his adorable smirk makes you not question it.

“Ah, alright.”

A brief silence follows as you look to Jimin and Jungkook to start the conversation, but instead, they exchange a glance and giggle.

You’re confused, but you recognize this as typical behavior from them. “Is there something wrong?”

Jungkook’s giggling becomes softer before it cuts, “You know, we’ve noticed you staring at us too much throughout the trip in America and here.”

Holy shit! They noticed!

Panic sets in. Oh no no no. Is this it? They probably think you’re creepy.  What if they think you’re some sort of sasaeng fan who somehow got involved in the production of this show to stalk them? 

You’ll be labeled a pervert, potentially losing your job and getting blacklisted from the industry. All because you couldn’t keep your eyes off of their beautiful faces… and bodies. It’s not your fault! While you were a fan of BTS years ago, you gave that up once you entered the entertainment industry a few years ago and started out as a production assistant. You’ve occasionally seen them at music and end of the year shows you worked on, but you gently admired them from afar, prioritizing your work over anything else.

“I–” You struggle to find the words to defend yourself. “I’m so sorry!” You cover your face with your hands, your words muffled. “I-I didn’t mean to! Y-You’re… He’s…”

The professional and stoic exterior you’ve maintained begins to crumble now that you’ve been caught red-handed.

But despite your panic, Jimin and Jungkook find your reaction completely endearing.

“She’s reacting exactly as cute as you said!” Jimin laughs, splashing water at Jungkook, who swims toward the pool ladder to get out.

“I didn’t realize she’d be this flustered, though!” Jungkook says, a hint of concern in his voice. He climbs out of the pool and walks toward you, dripping water onto the deck. “PD-nim, don’t worry about it.”

You peek through your fingers, still mortified, as Jungkook approaches, looking as attractive as ever with his body glistening from light reflecting on the remnants of water falling down his body. His expression is soft, reassuring, and it only makes your heart race faster.

Jimin lets out a soft chuckle. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re just teasing you,” His voice is light and teasing as he floats lazily in the pool “We’re not uncomfortable. It’s kind of flattering, actually.”

Jungkook nods, his expression gentle yet probing. “Yup! You’ve been nothing but professional this whole time. We just noticed that… maybe there’s more beneath the surface.”

Jimin gracefully lifts himself out of the pool and takes the seat on your other side. His presence is both comforting and disarming. “It’s like there’s something you’re holding back,” he adds, his tone hiding something deeper. “Something you’re denying yourself.”

You exhale slowly, trying to steady your nerves. Internally, you’re awestruck. It’s like they read you like a book. The intensity of their gazes still makes your heart race. Before you can respond, Jungkook’s eyes drop to your chest, his smile turning playful again.

“You know,” he says, “I noticed the black bikini top peeking out from under your tank top earlier.”

Your breath catches as his fingers touch the straps that tie behind your neck. You’d planned to swim later, after filming, wearing the bikini under your tank top and maxi skirt. Seeing how much fun they were having, you’d wanted to join in. But now, with their attention focused on you, you feel exposed in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

Jimin leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Why don’t you take off your clothes so we can see it better? We’ll help you~”

Take off your clothes?! Your heart pounds in your chest, the suggestion hanging in the air between you. The teasing is taking a turn, and you’re not sure how to respond. Saying no might kill the mood, and who knows what they’d think—or say. But if you say yes… there’s no telling where this might lead.

You’re not sure. But after a moment’s hesitation, you nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Okay…”

Jungkook gently takes hold of the hem of your tank top, his fingers brushing against your skin. His touch is both soft and deliberate, sending a shiver down your spine as he slowly lifts the fabric, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your breath catches in your throat as Jungkook pulls the tank top over your head, revealing the black bikini top beneath. Your cleavage and the roundness of your breasts are on full display, which makes them slightly more excited. The cool air hits your skin, making you acutely aware of how exposed you are. 

But the look in their eyes isn’t one of judgment—it’s something far more intense, more primal.

Jimin watches with a satisfied smile, his gaze flickering between you and Jungkook. “You don’t need to hide, okay?” he adds, his voice soft yet commanding. “We’re all just having a little fun, right?”

Jungkook’s hands linger on your waist, his thumbs brushing lightly against the skin just above the waistband of your maxi skirt. “This too,” he says, his voice almost a whisper as he hooks his fingers under the fabric.

You glance at Jimin, who nods encouragingly, his eyes dark with anticipation. There’s no turning back now, and a part of you doesn’t want to.

With a gentle tug, Jimin helps you slide the skirt down your hips, letting it pool around your feet. You stand up, stepping out of it. Now, your body is fully on display in the black bikini that suddenly feels far more revealing than it did before.

Jimin’s smile widens as his gaze travels over you, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. “Wow, you look even better than I imagined,” he murmurs, his voice sending a thrill through you.

“She’s really pretty,” Jungkook’s hands trail up your sides, his touch light but possessive. “Let’s go in the pool for a swim,” he says softly, his eyes locked onto yours.

You’re momentarily thrown off by the sudden change of scenario, blinking in surprise. The intensity of the moment shifts, and both Jimin and Jungkook burst into soft giggles at your reaction. Before you can say anything, Jungkook takes your hands and, with a mischievous grin, pulls you up from the lounge chair.

In one swift motion, he lifts you into his arms, the strength in his hold both reassuring and thrilling. “Hold on tight,” he says, winking at you before he leaps into the pool, bringing you along with him.

“Huh!? Wahh!!” The water rushes around you, cool and refreshing as you both plunge beneath the surface.

When you resurface, laughing and splashing, Jimin stands at the edge, watching with amusement. “Wait for me!” he calls out before executing a perfect cannonball right between you and Jungkook, sending a wave of water crashing over both of you.

The three of you laugh as the playful atmosphere takes over. The tension from earlier dissolves into something lighthearted and fun. In the pool, you play a variety of games: splashing water at each other, racing from one end to the other, seeing who can hold their breath the longest, and even attempting to dunk each other under the water.

You become more familiar with them and vice versa.

Jimin and Jungkook take turns lifting you up and tossing you into the deeper end, your laughter echoing in the night. At one point, Jungkook even suggests a round of “chicken fight,” where Jimin hoists you onto his shoulders while Jungkook does the same with an imaginary opponent, both of you trying to push each other off into the water.

As the night progresses, the games become more relaxed, the three of you floating side by side, your bodies gently swaying with the ripples of the water. 

Maybe this is all that’s going to happen. Maybe you were overthinking any other scenario. They were just teasing you because you were staring at them throughout the filming. You guys are gonna call it a night, right?

Right–

“Y/N, can I touch your breasts.”

The sudden question jolts you out of your thoughts, and you quickly stand up in the pool, water cascading off your skin. Jungkook is closer now, his gaze fixed on you with a seriousness that wasn’t there before. His eyes are darker, a smoldering intensity taking over the playful spark you’re used to.

You swallow hard, caught completely off guard. “Is there… a reason?” you manage to ask, your voice coming out shakier than you’d like. You are on the bigger side than most girls here, so it’s not entirely surprising that your chest caught his eye.

Jungkook steps even closer, his presence almost overwhelming. “I’m just curious,” he says softly, his voice low and almost hypnotic. “I want to see how they feel.”

Your heart races, every nerve in your body tingling as the situation escalates far beyond anything you’d imagined. You can’t believe this is happening, and yet, there’s something in the way he looks at you that makes it impossible to say no.

“Uh… sure,” you respond, barely above a whisper, your cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation.

Jungkook’s hand moves slowly, deliberately, under the cup of your bikini top. His touch is tentative at first, as if he’s savoring the moment, but then his fingers press more firmly against your skin, exploring the softness with a deliberate curiosity. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel his thumb brush against your nipple, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. 

The sensation is heightened by the sight of his tattooed right arm, the intricate patterns of his sleeve adding a dark contrast to his skin. The ink swirls and curves with every movement, the bold lines almost mesmerizing as his hand continues its exploration.

You bite your lip, trying to stifle the sound that threatens to escape, but you can’t help the way your body reacts to his touch. The water feels warmer now, the atmosphere is charged with sexual tension. Luckily the cameras outside are now off, but you still can’t let the staff in the building next door hear anything going on. 

Jimin, who had been floating nearby, quietly watching, now moves closer as well, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Jungkook,” he says softly, his voice a gentle reminder that he’s there too, “Don’t hog all the fun.”

Jungkook pulls back slightly, his hand still lingering on your skin as he glances at Jimin with a playful smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Jimin leans closer, his gaze intent and voice soft. “I’m going to touch you too, is that okay?”

You nod, anticipation and nervousness swirling within you.

Jimin’s hand moves under the bikini cup to grasp your left breast, his touch gentle yet confident as he begins to explore. His fingers graze and play with your nipple, causing a shiver to run through your body. His thumb and forefingers move in careful back and forth motions. Tenderly tweaking them, carefully observing the way your face reacts to his every touch. He appears as if he is under a trance, and looks at you with such a need in his eyes.

The sensation is heightened by Jungkook, who leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. 

“I’m gonna remove your top so I can suck on them a bit,” He says shyly, pausing for a moment to untie your bikini straps from the back of your neck and remove your bikini top, before lowering his head and softly pressing his lips to your nipple, his tongue darting out to tease. 

His hands push your breasts together as his tongue caresses the inner curves of your tits, swirling his tongue across them. Your hands are on his shoulders as he continues, licking every inch of your chest, nuzzling his face between them and leaving kisses along the path. His tongue flicks your right nipple and your breathing hitches in your throat. Despite the water in the way, you can feel yourself becoming wet from below.

Jimin watches, clearly intrigued, and soon follows suit, his mouth finding the other breast. He rubs his mouth along it, giving it a couple of kisses then wrapping his lips around it. Suctioning and taking in the tit with such hungry delight. 

You feel like you have whiplash, as you cry out from the warmth of their mouths on your skin, your back arches off of the wall of the pool. You want to touch them, reach for them, feel the silkiness of his hair in your grasp. 

But Jimin doesn’t let up, taking his time licking slowly around your areola until your nipple perks up, hard and stiff. He flicks it with the tip of his tongue, and with the sudden cold from the night air, it feels all too much. 

Jungkook looks up at you through his wet hair, through black lashes as he widens his mouth over your breast, his teeth bared, scraping the fat of your breast without ever breaking the skin. You cry out in a cluster of pleasure, maybe pain, as your senses are confused about all of the sensations at once.

Despite the feelings of them against you, their actions are synchronized and perfectly in tune with each other.

The pool’s gentle ripples and breeze seem to fade into the background as the focus narrows to the intimate touch of the two men. Their movements are tender and explorative, a blend of curiosity and desire that leaves you breathless and overwhelmed.

Your mind is fighting for dear life to stay sane and not lose to your animalistic urges,

“Let’s get out of the pool,” Jungkook commands, his voice firm yet enticing. “I want you to sit back on that daybed couch, baby.”

The shift in how he’s addressing you in the past 45 minutes is striking—both intimate and commanding. You nod, your body responding almost instinctively to his command as you all exit the pool. The three of you walk over to the poolside daybed, water dripping off your bodies, cooling in the night.

You sink into the plush cushions, the soft fabric cool against your heated skin. The daybed is large, designed for lounging, but right now, it feels like the center of something much more intense. Jungkook and Jimin kneel on either side of you, their knees pressing into the mattress as they lean over you, their wet bodies glistening under the soft pool lights.

You look at both of them, a daring thought forming in your mind. “I want to… lick at your chests too,” you say, your voice trembling slightly with a mix of eagerness, shyness and uncertainty.

The thought of exploring the contrasting textures of their skin, the difference in their nipples under your tongue, is almost overwhelming. You wonder how each will react, the mere anticipation making your breath catch.

Jimin’s eyes light up with a mischievous glint. “Go ahead,” he murmurs, his voice a blend of encouragement and desire. “We’re here for you.”

Jungkook watches intently, his gaze dark with expectation. “We’re all yours,” he says softly, his tone dripping with promise.

You reach out tentatively, your fingers brushing against their chests to feel the firmness of their muscles under your touch. The warmth of their skin sends a shiver down your spine as you explore the contours of their bodies. Your hands glide over Jungkook's chest first, pausing to tease his nipples with your fingertips gently. His breath hitches, a low hum of approval escaping his lips as he watches you with darkened eyes.

Encouraged by his reaction, you lean in closer, your mouth hovering just above his skin. You start with a soft kiss on his chest before taking one of his small chocolate nipples into your mouth, your tongue swirling around it in a slow, deliberate motion. Jungkook’s hand instinctively reaches up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he lets out a quiet groan of pleasure. His chest rises and falls more rapidly, his breathing growing heavier as you continue to tease him, alternating between gentle licks and firmer sucks.

The sound of his pleasure fuels your desire, making you want to elicit even more reactions from him. But as you pull back slightly, your gaze shifts to Jimin, who has been watching with equal intensity. His eyes are filled with anticipation, his lips slightly parted as if he’s already imagining what it will feel like when it’s his turn.

You move towards Jimin, your fingers tracing the outline of his chest as you did with Jungkook. His skin feels different—softer, yet still firm beneath your touch. Just below his right breast, he has a delicate script tattoo, the word "Nevermind" inked in elegant, flowing letters. You've always found it sexy, this handwritten tattoo adds a personal touch to his perfectly sculpted body.

His nipples are also differently shaped, bigger, and a bit lighter in color. You can feel the slight tremble in his body as you gently roll his nipple between your fingers before leaning in to taste him. Your mouth closes over his nipple, your tongue flicking against it in a teasing rhythm that draws a sharp inhale from him. His hand rests lightly on your shoulder, his grip tightening slightly as you continue to explore him with your mouth.

Jimin’s reactions are more subtle, yet no less intense. His soft moans mix with Jungkook’s heavier breathing, creating a symphony of sounds that only heighten your own arousal. The way their bodies respond to your touch, the contrast in their reactions, drives you to explore further, to discover just how much pleasure you can bring them.

You pull back slightly, glancing toward the large doors that separate the pool area from the rest of the accommodation. A flicker of concern crosses your mind, and you bite your lip before whispering, “You two need to stay quiet. We don’t want anyone overhearing us.”

Any slight mistake and you will lose your job, remember?

Jimin and Jungkook exchange a glance, their playful expressions tinged with a shared understanding. They nod, their eyes never leaving yours as they silently agree to your request. But just as you start to relax, your actions come to a stop when you feel them guiding your hands downwards, placing them on their lower bodies.

Your breath catches as your fingers wrap around their growing hardness, the heat and firmness of their cocks hidden under their swim trunks pressing against your palms. Jimin lets out a shaky exhale, leaning in close enough that you can feel his breath against your ear. “I’ve wanted to feel you so bad for months now,” he confesses, his voice low and thick with desire.

Jungkook, not to be outdone, adds in a hushed tone, his eyes glinting with a dark sparkle, “Me too. You don’t know how much you’ve been driving us crazy.”

Their words send a thrill through you, intensifying the moment. You didn’t realize you were having this effect on them. You look at them both, their shared longing evident in their eyes. Slowly, you pull their members out from their swim trunks, your heart racing as you position yourself between them, sinking to your knees on the cushioned daybed.

Oh fuck…

The size difference even extends to their dicks. Jungkook’s is much longer, with veins prominent on its sides. Jimin’s is shorter, but the girth is insane. You can’t help but imagine how they’d feel inside your pussy. No, you can’t get ahead of yourself Y/N. Not yet at least…

With a mixture of boldness and anticipation, you lean down, your lips parting as you begin to lick at their members, starting with soft, tentative strokes of your tongue. The sensation of their heated skin against your tongue is intoxicating, their quiet groans spurring you on. You alternate between them, your tongue tracing the veins along their lengths, savoring the contrast in texture and taste.

Jimin’s breath hitches as you swirl your tongue around the tip of his member, the salty taste mingling with the slickness of your saliva. His fingers suddenly tighten in your hair, but he remains obediently quiet, the tension in his body evident as he struggles to hold back his angelic voice.

You shift to Jungkook, taking him into your mouth with a slow, deliberate sucking. His quiet sounds of pleasure are like music to your ears, the low hums of approval vibrating. His hands rest on your shoulders, his grip firm but not forceful, guiding you as you take him deeper, feeling the way his body responds to every movement of your tongue.

At the same time, your hand reaches out to Jimin, wrapping around his throbbing length. You start stroking him with a steady rhythm, making sure to keep him engaged, the sensation of your fingers gliding over his slick skin keeping his arousal high. Jimin’s breath hitches, his eyes half-lidded with desire as he watches you.

The two of them try their best to stay quiet, but the occasional gasp, lust-filled phrases or whispered name of yours slips out, betraying their growing need. 

“You’re so good at this PD nim…”

“Y/N, you’re so fucking fine…”

“Such a good girl, Y/N…”

“Fuck, right there…”

The thrill of their restraint only heightens your own arousal, driving you to explore them further, your lips and tongue working in tandem to bring them closer to the edge.

While working your mouth over Jungkook, you feel Jimin’s hand sliding up your body, his fingers brushing against your wet skin before cupping your breast. His thumb grazes over your nipple, teasing it to a hardened peak, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you. The dual feeling—Jimin’s touch on your breast and Jungkook’s heat filling your mouth—intensifies the moment, driving you to pleasure them both with renewed focus.

The tension in the atmosphere thickens, all your quiet breaths turning into ragged gasps. You can feel the subtle changes in their bodies, the way their muscles tighten, and the way their grips on you grow firmer. The anticipation builds, and you know they’re close, teetering on the edge of release.

Jimin is the first to break the silence, his voice low and filled with need. “Y/N… can I come on your chest?” His eyes are dark with lust, the words almost a plea.

Jungkook isn’t far behind, his voice breathless and shaky as he adds, “And I–I want to come in your mouth. Is that okay?”

The heat in their words sends a shiver down your spine. You pause, looking up at them, their faces flushed with desire. 

“Y-Yes that’s fine with me,” You nod, your consent clear in your eyes and the slight smile that tugs at your lips.

With their requests granted, you resume your ministrations with renewed intensity. Your hands work in tandem, stroking their members with a firm, steady rhythm while your tongue flicks and teases them both. The taste of them lingers on your tongue, salty and intoxicating, driving you to push them further, to bring them to the edge of ecstasy.

Their breaths quicken, and you can tell they’re both struggling to hold back, to savor the moment as long as possible. But the pleasure is overwhelming, and soon their restraint begins to falter.

Jungkook’s voice is the first to crack, a desperate whisper as he warns you, “I’m close… so close…”

Jimin removes his hand from your hair. Instead, Jungkook’s hand, adorned with intricate tattoos and the bold "ARMY" inked across his knuckles, slides from your shoulder to your hair this time. The grip is firm and possessive, his fingers weaving into your strands with a fierce, almost primal hold. The veins beneath his tattooed skin pulsate as he uses his arm to guide you closer, pushing himself deeper into you with each powerful thrust. His tattooed bicep flexes with every movement, demonstrating his strength and control, while the rhythmic thrusts become more urgent.

Jimin's breath hitches as soft, erotic moans escape his lips, each sound laced with urgency to let go. His voice quivers, with a strained yet sensual whisper, “Me too… I’m going to come…” The words tumble out in a series of ragged breaths

With one last, deliberate stroke of your hand and a final suck, you push them both over the edge.

“F-Fuck!” Jimin lets out a guttural groan as he releases, his hot seed spilling onto your breasts, painting your skin with his pleasure. The warmth of it spreads across your breasts, the sensation almost surreal as you continue to stroke him, milking out every last drop.

At the same time, Jungkook’s hips buck slightly as he comes, the hot, salty taste of his release flooding your mouth. You swallow him down eagerly, your tongue swirling around him to milk him of every last bit. The taste of him lingers, warm and slightly bitter, but satisfying in a way that leaves you wanting more.

The sounds they make—those broken moans, the gasps of pleasure—echo in your ears, a symphony of gratification. Their bodies tremble with the aftershocks of their orgasms, their hands gentle but insistent as they guide you through the final moments of their release.

When they’ve finally come down from the high, their breathing ragged but steadying, they look down at you with a mix of awe and satisfaction. The sight of you, your chest slick with Jimin’s release and your lips still wet from Jungkook seems to stir something deeper in them—a shared sense of intimacy that goes beyond mere physical pleasure. Your fingers move instinctively, collecting Jimin’s release and bringing it to your lips, savoring the taste as you clean yourself, erasing the evidence of what just transpired. The sensation is both surreal and thrilling, the intimacy of the moment lingering in the air.

Jungkook's voice breaks through the haze, his tone a mix of innocence and desire. “PD-nim, can we do more with you?” His eyes sparkle with the same enthusiasm you’ve seen during filming, making it nearly impossible to deny him.

“H-Huh!? Oh…” you stammer, caught off guard. That look in his eyes—it’s almost impossible to resist. But a small voice in the back of your mind reminds you that you should be heading back before the other staff starts wondering where you are.

“C’mon, we’ll be quick!” Jimin adds, his voice smooth and coaxing, making it even harder to stick to your resolve. “We can eat you out, or we can penetr—”

Before he can finish, another voice cuts through the tension, startling you. “Oh… so that’s what you guys were doing?”

You turn your head sharply to see Taehyung standing there, now wearing swim trunks, with a smirk playing on his lips. Your heart races, the sudden realization hitting you like a wave. “Oh my God, I forgot about Taehyung…” you gasp, instinctively trying to cover yourself, though it’s far too late for modesty.

“Hey, I thought you were going to head to bed?” Jimin narrows his eyes at the slightly younger man. He must’ve been watching you all this entire time, he thinks.

He chuckles, an amused glint in his eyes as he takes in the scene. “I thought you guys were still playing in the pool or something… but I’m not surprised things ended up this way. You two are always up to shit like this.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, clearly unimpressed yet intrigued.

“Huh?” you manage to squeak out, your mind reeling. Always up to shit like this? What’s that supposed to mean–

Taehyung’s smirk deepens, and he steps closer. “Anyways, I’m bored. Let me join in too,” he says casually with a boxy smile, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I won’t disappoint heh~” 

He winks. HE WINKS! 

The three members of the BTS maknae line look at you deviously, waiting to pounce on you at your command.

“I don’t think we should be–”

“Are you sure?” Jimin and Jungkook say in unison.

“I… “ The title of the show is going to come back to haunt you.

“I’m not sure…?” You can’t find yourself to say no, having already gone to the deep end.

You will be closer to getting fired if you get caught at this rate, but to hell with it, “Okay, fine!” 

And immediately, they’re all over your body, reigniting the hidden flame in your heart that reminds you how much you loved them as a fan years before. You won’t survive this.

“Come over here,” Taehyung murmurs, his voice deep and commanding as he settles against the pillows of the daybed. He props himself up, making sure he’s comfortable, then motions for you to crawl in front of him.

Your heart races as you move into position, with Jungkook and Jimin on each side of you, their eyes dark with lust. The daybed is deep enough that you’re perfectly nestled between them.

As you get closer to Taehyung, you feel his hands sliding up your thighs, tugging lightly at the waistband of your bikini bottoms. You gasp softly, a thrill running through you as he pulls them down slowly, exposing your wetness. The sensation sends a shiver through you, heightening your anticipation and eagerness to get this over with. You lift your hips slightly to help him slide them off completely, leaving you fully exposed.

Taehyung’s eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

He props himself up with the pillows behind his head, his hands settling on your hips as he guides you closer. “Sit on my face,” he tells you, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

Your breath catches at the bold command, but the heat in his eyes, the way his hands grip your hips, sends a rush of excitement through you. You move to straddle him, your heart pounding as you position yourself over his face. Jungkook and Jimin remain close, their hands brushing over your body, adding to the growing heat between you all.

As you lower yourself onto his waiting mouth, the first touch of his tongue against your most sensitive spot sends a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body. 

“A-Ah~ T-Taehyung…” You gasp, your fingers gripping the daybed as Taehyung’s tongue begins to work its magic, teasing and tasting you with skillful precision.

Taehyung’s tongue explores you, from your clit to your entrance. His mouth working in a rhythm that leaves you breathless, and your body trembling with the intensity of it all.

Jimin and Jungkook are on either side of you, their hands moving to your breasts, where they each take a breast in their grasp. Their mouths soon follow, lips closing over your nipples as they begin to suck and tease you with their tongues once more. The dual sensation of Taehyung’s mouth on you and the boys’ attention on your breasts sends your mind reeling, pleasure coursing through you to unleash an orgasm. But you need to be patient and let it continue consuming you.

Jungkook’s hand slides down, tugging off Taehyung’s trunks with a practiced ease before wrapping his fingers around Taehyung’s impressive length. The sight makes your eyes widen, but you aren’t entirely surprised by their actions—after all, you’ve seen how touchy BTS are with one another. Even filming earlier in the day and even back in the States. But this? Seeing them work together to push you to the brink of pleasure only makes you even hornier.

And Taehyung’s dick… it’s massive, much bigger than the other two. The way his tan skin contrasts with the thick, veined shaft is mesmerizing, almost too much to take in. You can’t help but imagine what it would feel like inside you, making you ache with the anticipation of trying it next time.

Jimin, not to be outdone, reaches over to stroke Jungkook, his touch slow and deliberate, making sure to keep him just as aroused. His free hand slips down to touch himself, fingers wrapping around his own length as he matches the pace. The sensation of their hands moving in tandem, coupled with the attention they’re lavishing on you, makes your body tremble with need.

You ride Taehyung’s face, grinding down against his mouth as his tongue works magic on you, drawing out every ounce of pleasure he can. Your hands clutch the edges of the daybed for support, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you lose yourself in the sensations they’re giving you. Since you’re facing outwards, Taehyung’s hands slide down to grab your ass, squeezing the soft flesh as he pulls you even closer, deepening the connection between his mouth and your most sensitive spot. His grip is firm and possessive, his fingers digging into your skin as he devours you with renewed intensity. He gives it a slap, which makes you cringe before you go back to indulging in the pleasure.

The feeling of the two men’s mouths on your breasts, Taehyung’s tongue inside you, and the sight of their hands pleasuring each other is almost too much to bear. The pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, your body quivering with the need to release.

Jimin and Jungkook suck harder on your nipples, their teeth grazing them just enough to send jolts of pleasure straight to your core. Taehyung’s tongue flicks and swirls with expert precision, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

And then, finally, it all becomes too much. The pleasure explodes within you, sending you spiraling into an intense orgasm that leaves you gasping for breath. Your body tenses, your thighs clenching around Taehyung’s head as you ride out the waves of ecstasy, the sensation amplified by the boys’ continued ministrations.

As the last tremors of your orgasm fade, you collapse forward slightly, your body spent and trembling. Taehyung gently guides you off him, his lips slick with your arousal, and you fall onto the daybed, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook quickly follow, their own bodies shuddering as they reach their peaks, their releases mingling, landing onto each others bodies or the fabric beneath them.

Now the three of you lay there, breathless and spent, with limbs piled on top of each other. The air is thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction, however a yearning for more still remains. The outdoor area is quiet, save for the sound of your heavy breathing, as you all come down from the high of your shared pleasure.

Jungkook leans in close, his voice low and filled with unfulfilled desire. “I’m so eager to fuck you, but I’ll wait until tomorrow after the itinerary is done,” he murmurs, his eyes smoldering with lust as he looks down at you.

Jimin, still tenderly stroking your skin, adds with a soft smile, “We don’t want you getting into trouble, PD-nim. We’ll be patient.”

You manage a weak smile, your mind swirling with the aftershocks of what just happened. “How have the staff not conveniently come in to check on us?” you wonder aloud, your voice shaky with exhaustion and disbelief.

The three of them exchange a glance, a shared understanding passing between them. 

Don’t say that the staff are aware that they’re doing this…!? Taehyung’s words from earlier were already… odd, but you decide not to think too hard on it right now. You need to head back anyway, so let’s keep this drama-free, you think to yourself. Wouldn’t be the first time you hear about idols doing these things.

They begin to clean you up, wiping away the evidence of your intense encounter.  They’re gentle, their touches soothing as they take care of you, ensuring that you’re comfortable before helping you to your feet to get dressed.

They walk you to the door, each of them pressing a lingering kiss to your lips before they see you out, their eyes filled with satisfaction. You step out, your mind reeling from the events that just transpired.

“Oh my god…” you say to yourself in a whisper.

As you walk away from the daybed, you can’t help but wonder how you ended up in this situation—tangled up with the three members of BTS in a way you never could have imagined. The memory of their hands, their mouths, their words lingers with you, a heady reminder of the connection you’ve just shared. And though you know the risks, the dangers of what you’ve done, you can’t bring yourself to regret a single moment.

With a deep breath, you start heading back to your accommodation, telling yourself you still have more days of this show’s filming to go. And more chance encounters with them as well.

-

-

-

The End????

A/N: HAPPY SURPRISE ONE SHOT DROP! OKAY. ALSO I HAD PLANNED TO BLUE BALL YOU GUYS AND NOT GIVE YOU A TAE SCENE BUT RAE SAID I SHOULD WRITE IT SO I DID! I've seen all y'all thirsting over are you sure?! and honestly, the maknae line really FED US SO WELL WITH THIS SHOW. also never in my life did i think there would be no censoring of their bodies, but thank you god for allowing us to indulge in their beauty and cute antics lmao. if you somehow survived this and made it to the end, thank you for reading and please let me know what you think or like bc i was going THROUGH IT writing this 🥴 if it wasn’t good, i am so sorry for wasting your time. 😭

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[jayswhorex]

missing you

kenji sato x fem!reader

warnings: shower sex, multiple positions, angst & smut

you had an irresistible grip on kenji sato. there was something about the way he always came back to you. sure there had been other girls at some point but he always knew you were the best. and not just when it came to sec but also when it came to everything else. nobody knew kenji sato better than you and maybe he was a tiny bit scared of that. yes, he had a hard time committing to you but he knew if he had to settle down, he couldn't imagine it being with anyone else. so when you showed up at his place and needed a place to stay for a couple of months how could he say no to you?

your schedules had always conflicted so when the two of you rarely saw each other it wasn't such a big surprise to kenji. and times you did see each other were awkward, kenji had been tired of putting up a facade & you knew he just needed his private time. even though during those times all he wanted was to talk to you.

but this morning things had been different, you had decided that you'd take a shower much later than planned to avoid kenji. he snuck out last night to do well…you knew what and had yet to come back. you found yourself just standing under the showerhead, letting water spill all over your skin. you were stuck in your head, trying to grasp why out of nowhere you asked to stay here with kenji. yes, he cared for you but you could never believe that there was a chance in hell he loved you.

you were so distracted by your own thoughts that you hadn't even heard kenji walk in, "mind if i join angel?" his hypnotic voice snaps you from your thoughts. you open your mouth to answer but quickly close it. you open it again and answer with a soft, "mhm".

the cold breeze when kenji opens the shower curtain causes you to shudder, wrapping your arms around your body. "relax" he says gently placing his hands on your waist from behind. his touch was soft and warm, a feeling you used to be used to until you had decided to avoid kenji. you were still trying to make sense of why you were doing this. why are you so scared of letting kenji see those other parts of you?

his mouth pampered your neck with kisses from behind, his hands making their way up to your chest. a delicate whimper escaped your lips, causing you to relax into kenji's touch. kenji squeezed your breasts before giving his attention to your nipples that had softened under the water. he groped on tit while he teased the nipple of the other. "

ken…" you managed to call out, feeling his cock twitch against your ass. the pulsating of his veiny cock against your aunt could only make you more aroused than you had been before. he knew what it meant when you called his name like that and he saw no reason to deprive you of what you craved for. his breaths were deep and heavy, almost as if he had been waiting for this moment. waiting to be able to touch you again even if this was the last life. he keenly guided his cock your drenched cunt, craving to fill you up almost like a dog in heat. a string of sloppy curses falls from your mouth as he slipped his cock in with such ease. there was a brief silence that kenji broke with no hesitation for you, "i missed this baby…i missed us"

kenji gently moved his hips, testing the waters. "kenji you don't have to say that-" a hushed groan accidentally left your mouth, your knees nearly buckling. "just to get in my pants" kenji let a chuckle, you could sense a bit of cockiness hidden beneath that little laugh of his. and god you missed it. "sweetheart i don't know if you can tell but we're way past me getting in your pants," he says a bit frustrated because he wasn't joking.

he was serious about missing you, not the sex nor the fling, he just missing you. he missed your little smiles and the way you'd let him talk to you, he missed you. his thrusts were deep yet rough, and you heard the loud splashes of water getting caught between your bodies. "i know ken but…" kenji's hands found their way to your waist once again, bringing your lower half closer to his. with how wet the walls were and how hard ken was pounding you & your lack of focus you could barely get your sentences out. "…i don't want you to say something you don't mean"

"but i do mean it angel" and that's when it hit him, kenji had to show you. he had to make you understand that needed you and he couldn't do this back and forth anymore. he knew now he was sick of it. you whined when you felt his thrusts slowing, he swiftly pulled out of you and turned your body so that you were facing him. "ken-"you were slightly confused but when he picked you up and gently slid himself into you, you got the memo. "just listen angel please" kenji held you bu the thighs while you had your arms wrapped around his neck, a mixture of moans and groans spilling out of your mouth with each thrust kenji gave you.

"i miss you when you've left early for work in the mornings," he said followed by a hollow grunt that threatened to escape his mouth. your insides clenched around him, encouraging him to be a little less gentle with you. kenji nearly slammed you up against the wall, earning some very noisy moans from you while toenails dug into his back. he knew they would definitely affect his performance at his next game but that was very far from his mind. the only thing he was focusing on right now was you because he had so much more to say and he needed you to listen.

"i miss you when you work late"

"i miss you when you can't come to my games"

"i miss being around you baby"

"i fucking miss hearing your voice" kenji was so stuck in his own head, chasing this high with you while also mumbling out how much he missed you, and need you and wanted you. his words had to mean something to you because, in the end, he was the one you came to when you needed a place to stay. though still dazed, kenji finds himself gripped on the flesh of your thigh firmly as he really himself inside of you. your legs wrapped around his lower waist bringing his body even closer to yours. his grip on your thighs loosened a bit and he leaned his forehead against yours, trying to calm himself down. he feared the silence that had fallen between the two of you but at least he had told you how he was feeling even if that meant nothing to you.

but you could only smile at him and say, "i missed you too ken"

[slytherinslut0]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 4th — virginity loss / corruption kink.

PART ONE | kinktober masterlist. | 2024.

pairing: mattheo riddle x berkshires!sister

summary: mattheo’s conscience can only hold him back for so long.

warnings: 18+, hogwarts uni (putting this even tho it’s obvious), jealous mattheo, flirting, tension tension tension, “we can’t do this” type of vibe, “your brother is right over there” type of vibe. bestfriends lil sister trope. part one of two.

Morality—what is it, really? How is it measured? Is it a linear scale? Could someone be morally sound yet sometimes make an exception when the situation called for it?

Perhaps it's subjective. Anything that falls outside of the law, that is.

Mattheo forced a breath from his lungs, the drink in his hand was tasteless, some watered-down excuse for a cocktail. But that didn't matter, not really—what mattered was the way you kept laughing, the way your hand lingered a second too long on that random bastard's sleeve. The sight made something concerning coil tight in his chest, but he stayed where he was, back against the wall, sucking down drinks like he'd been tasked to it.

God, this was stupid. Morality. Right and wrong. He knew the difference, of course he did. Just because he was a Riddle didn't make him a monster. Not yet, anyway. But that line, the one between you and him—the one drawn so clearly in the sand—was practically mocking him with its absolutes and daring him to cross it. Forbidden, off-limits, the one thing he shouldn't want.

His best friend's little sister. The good girl. A virgin, no less.

"Riddle—you coming?"

Mattheo's head jerked slightly, but his mind was miles away.

He waved a hand. "I'll catch up in a bit.”

Malfoy and Zabini nodded, slipping into the night, leaving him behind in the dim, crowded ballroom. Spring dance. Hours past dusk. He didn't even know why he was still there. Normally, he was long gone before the clock struck twelve, but tonight the room pulsed with bodies and the music hummed under his skin. His drink was half-forgotten in his hand, and his gaze was fixed on a group across the room.

Or, more specifically, on you.

You were standing, black dress to your mid-thighs, half-listening to boys from your year drone on about quidditch tryouts and the usual chatter that filled the space between your breaths. But your eyes—your eyes weren't on them. You were looking at him. A soft smirk tugging at the corners of your lips, like you knew something he didn't.

His heart kicked against his ribs. Where was that line again?

You winked, and he sipped his drink. He'd always said bad decisions made good stories—but even if this (unnameable thing between you) was a story worth telling, the people to hear it would be few.

The tension grew suffocating and he finally looked away. You took that as a win, but you weren't about to let the game end there—not after you noted the tense of his fingers around his cup. You excused yourself from the group, your body moving through the crowd like water, fluid and unhurried, weaving your way toward him.

You knew the line well, the one Mattheo pretended so hard to respect. Restraint wasn't his nature—it never had been, not in the decade you'd watched him take whatever he wanted without a second thought. He wasn't made for holding back, and it showed every now and then—every time his lips crashed against yours in some hidden corner, whispering confessions of how badly he wanted more, how he ached for what he couldn't have.

You loved pushing him to that point. You loved knowing how bad he wanted you. Your brother would lose his mind if he found out. But that didn't matter, not even a little. Not when Mattheo looked at you like that.

"Having fun?" He asked upon your approach, his voice a shade too flat.

"A little." You leaned against the wall beside him, close enough that he could feel the warmth of your skin, your presence seeping into the space between you. "What about you? You seem a bit...tense."

"Tense." The word came out bland, barely audible, and he took a slow sip of his drink, like he needed it just to find his voice. "Why would I be tense?"

You wet your lips, slow, deliberate, studying him with that sidelong glance that made his pulse skip. His jaw tightened, and his eyes—those beautiful, dangerous brown eyes—scanned the room with something too close to desperation.

"Good question." You tilted your head, gaze playful, curious, like you were dissecting him right there in the half-light. "Maybe it's because you've been watching me like a hawk. Like you're waiting for me to do something...wrong."

"Maybe I'm just looking out for you," he muttered, his gaze sliding to your brother across the room, lips locked with some brunette. Mattheo's eyes flickered back to you, just for a moment. "Your brother's a little...busy, after all."

You raised an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into an amused, almost wicked smile. "Ah, so that's it. You're just being my big, overprotective babysitter."

"I don't need to babysit you," he grumbled, though his gaze betrayed him, darting over to the group of boys you'd been talking to. "Just keeping an eye on the company you keep."

It was almost amusing—the way Mattheo stood there, sizing up your guy friends like they were targets in a lineup, probably mentally noting who he'd hit first if any of them dared to step out of line. He was different tonight—and you could have brushed it off, could have let that flicker of vulnerability slide, but that wasn't how this game was played. Not with him. Not with you. There was no room for naivety here.

You turned to face him now, full-on, shoulder resting against the wall as you raised a hand, fingers brushing lightly up his arm.

"Keeping an eye," you repeated as you traced the hard line of his shoulder, then down, lower, over his chest. "Ever my hero, Mattheo Riddle."

When your fingers grazed his abdomen, his breath caught and he grabbed your wrist—hard—the suddenness of it making you gasp. Then, he turned to face you, and his gaze finally met yours—really met yours—for the first time since you'd crossed the room.

"Don't." His voice was low, strained, like he was fighting himself as much as you.

Your eyes widened in mock surprise, that innocent look you'd perfected like a sport. You wore it like a halo you knew you didn't deserve.

"Don't...what?" You damn-well knew what.

His grip tightened, just enough for you to feel the heat of it, pulling you closer, so close you could feel the tension radiating off him. He wet his lips, and you melted—remembering how it felt to kiss them.

"Don't play games with me." He said. "Not tonight."

The warning was clear, but instead of pulling away—heeding his words and letting that heat simmer down—you leaned closer, defying every unspoken rule. The thrill shot up your spine, into your brain, turning everything hazy, electric. You were drunk on it.

"Why not?" Your free hand traced up his other arm and his gaze followed the movement, lips parting ever so slightly. "...afraid you'll lose?"

Before you knew what was happening, he had you spun around—so fast you barely registered the movement before your back hit the cold stone wall. His drink found the table beside him, his focus entirely on you.

"Don't to this to me. Not here," he whispered. "Your brother is right over there."

You glanced toward Enzo, still too preoccupied with the brunette to notice a thing.

"He's a little distracted, don't you think?" Your fingers on your free hand resumed their path, this time up toward his collarbone. But his other hand found them, too. You looked down. Two large hands, wrapped tight around your wrists, like he could stop the fire running through your veins if he just held on hard enough. Your thighs shook. "Gods, you really are tense tonight, aren't you?"

Mattheo's eyes narrowed, two embers gleaming in the night— his lips twitching in a way that made your pulse stutter. There was need in him now, a raw, visceral energy that vibrated between you. Untethered.

He leaned in, closer, his breath brushing against your skin. "You're impossible."

"Impossible..." you echoed, the space between you shrinking with every second. There was no choice in it. It was magnetic, inevitable. He leaned closer, and you—against all reason—matched him, drawn by a force you couldn't name. "Impossible to...resist, Matty?"

Your lips were so close, you could almost taste the flavours lingering on his breath. The heat of him drew you in like gravity, pulling you into that dangerous space where everything blurred—boundaries, rules, reason. His eyes flickered down to your mouth, his tongue darting out to wet his lips in a way that felt instinctive—

And then, the world snapped back.

Cheering—loud, raucous—followed by the sharp crack of glass splintering against the floor. It cut through the moment, pulling you both back to reality. Mattheo's gaze jerked toward the sound, and in an instant he took a step back, his hands releasing your wrists like you'd burned him—like you were the danger here, a fire he'd gotten too close to.

"We can't," he whispered, and it sliced through you. It hit harder than the crash of glass, harder than the noise around you. "You don't want this. I promise you don't."

You stared at him. You knew what he meant, what he was trying to say, the warning etched in every tense line of his body. The two of you had been over this before. You knew Mattheo Riddle was not the man who would love you, not the man who would stay, who you'd call your forever. You weren't that naive. You weren't looking for forever—you just wanted a beginning. A first. A first that would teach you the edge of desire, with someone who knew what to do.

Someone experienced.

"I do," you whispered, barely holding steady under the weight of it all—the realization that you'd almost kissed him, right here, where anyone could've seen, where your brother wasn't far. "More than anything, I do."

His jaw clenched, that flicker in his eyes darkening. He ran a hand through his hair, curls falling messily back into place, his face twisted in thought, already calculating the fallout, already seeing the inevitable consequences.

"Your brother will kill me," he muttered. "He'll kill you."

"He’s not my dad, Mattheo. I’m an adult. He doesn't have to know." The words came out firm, too firm for how fast your heart was beating. You didn't dare move closer, but the tension between you was still electric, still alive. "No one except us."

For a heartbeat, his eyes locked onto yours, and you felt it—that gravity pulling you both back to the brink. It was visible—the weight of his indecision, the way he was measuring the risk, the pull of you against the walls he was trying to keep intact. It'd been months of this. You were relentless. His scowl deepened, but he didn't pull away. He let the silence stretch, your words simmering between you like a match lit, waiting to catch fire.

And then, a nod.

Barely there, just a sharp dip of his head, almost as if he didn't want to acknowledge it himself. You couldn't tell if it was for you, or some silent permission he was giving himself, a final surrender to the pull that neither of you could fight.

"Room of Requirement," he said, vibrating with the tension that still hummed in the air. "Ten minutes."

Your stomach leapt into your throat, every bone in your body suddenly weak. After a moment that felt as though it went on forever, you nodded, and he took another step back.

"Ten minutes." You repeated.

"Ten minutes." He confirmed, before turning and heading out of the ballroom.

[pin-k-ink]

WORTH THE WAIT⋆✦⋆ hinata shoyo

synopsis ➸ back in high school, hinata couldn’t muster the courage to confess to you. but after a few years in brazil, he’s come back ready to get what he wants—and this time, he’s not shy about it

tags ➸ implied mutual pining, male masturbation, dirty talking, nipple play, exhibitionism but nobody sees anything, dry humping, implied virginity loss, unprotected sex, fingering, hair pulling, praise kink, squirting, thigh riding

wc ➸ 7.2k

note ➸ did i do it right @4unnyr0se

Hinata felt his heart stutter the instant his gaze landed on you seated next to Tadashi in the arena stands. An almost overwhelming rush of nostalgia washed over him, dredging up vivid memories of countless stolen glances and flustered interactions with you throughout high school.

Back then, he could barely string a coherent sentence together without feeling flustered if you so much as smiled in his direction. Even hearing your bright laughter echoing through the gym had a way of completely short-circuiting his brain and reducing him to a useless puddle of disaster.

But now? Now Hinata's reaction took an entirely different form as he shamelessly drank in the sight of you. His eyes roamed hungrily over the soft curves accentuated by your outfit, mouth going dry as he committed every detail to searing memory. Just the mere suggestion of those legs currently concealed beneath fabric of your dress made something hot and molten unfurl in the pit of his stomach.

Swallowing hard, Hinata forcibly dragged his gaze upwards before he could descend too far down that particular rabbit hole of temptation. Only to find himself utterly transfixed by the slightly stunned yet undeniably intrigued look shining back at him from your wide eyes.

You didn't look away or shrink beneath his blatant perusal. No, you held his heated stare steadily, lips parting around the faintest of shaky exhales that made Hinata's mouth water hungrily in response.

Of course you would react this way, all confused but undeniably curious about the changes written across his body after so long apart. He couldn't exactly blame you—not when he still had vivid memories seared into his brain of you stretched out in various states of undress during so many of their video calls, completely unaware of just how utterly you drove him to distraction.

Like that one time in Brazil when you'd insisted on catching up immediately after waking up, still soft and rumpled from slumber. He could still picture every tiny yawn and sleep-warm murmur so clearly, chest constricting as your oversized tee dipped lower on one smooth shoulder with each shift, nipples pressed against the thin fabric.

Back then he'd nearly combusted on the spot, reduced to nothing but a stammering mess again as pink patches of heat began trailing hotly up his neck, cheeks burning as his gaze hungrily traced the vee of skin exposed between those fluttering sheets. He'd spent the entire video call fantasizing about sliding past the thin barrier of cotton, allowing his starved hands to roam your sleep-warmed curves in a sizzling glide...

And the entire time, you'd been utterly oblivious to the effect you were having on him with each tiny, intimate gesture. Just blissfully unaware of the lust coiling hot and heavy in Hinata's abdomen as he fought with everything in him not to lose control over the suggestive feast currently parading across his screen.

It was only when you sleepily tugged the collar aside again, breath hitching on a whine of annoyance that exposed even more of that soft, unblemished swell for his hungry gaze, that Hinata finally broke. He'd choked out a strangled excuse about losing signal before fumbling off-screen, your bemused voice echoing through his throbbing skull as he frantically grappled with the painfully hard cock already straining against his sweats.

Even thousands of miles away, you'd had that sort of effortless power over him. An almost cruel ability to drive him to the brink of feverish desperation without even trying, until he burned through his self-control and surrendered to rutting into his own fist with broken moans slipping past his gritted teeth.

And now, here you were again—finally within reach after so long spent being tormented only by memories and his own wandering hands. Hinata's entire body felt like it was burning up from the inside out as he drank you in properly for the first time in ages, utterly powerless before your presence once more.

He needed to get a grip on himself before things spiraled completely out of control here in public. But between the sight of you staring back at him with similarly ravenous interest—as if you could sense the depraved hunger draping over his every thought—Hinata didn't know if he stood a chance in hell.

"Shoyo?" you breathed out at last, sounding just as dazed and stunned as he felt right now. "You...you look so..."

'So different', he could practically hear the unspoken end to your observation hanging in the air. Hinata swallowed thickly, hands flexing compulsively at his sides as if to restrain the part of him aching to reach out and finally get his hands on you at long last.

"Yeah, you could say that," Hinata rumbled out in response, feeling his throat tighten as you continued drinking in his new physique with open appreciation.

Only you didn't seem to realize just how molten your innocent once-over was making his stare in return. The way your gaze trailed over the contours of his arms and chest - mapping every ridge and shift with rapt interest - it was like you were completely oblivious to how your simple perusal alone had heat unfurling in his lower belly already.

"Wow Shoyo, I can't believe how...built you got!" you exclaimed with that same vibrant, sunny enthusiasm he remembered so vividly.

Hinata swallowed hard, forcibly dragging his own lingering stare away from the gentle swell of your breasts straining against your top. He really needed to get a grip before this quickly spiraled out of control. The scorching temptation to crowd into your personal bubble and yank you flush against his body—letting you feel the evidence of his reaction first hand—nearly overwhelmed his strained control.

"Guess all that training down in Brazil really paid off in more ways than one," Tadashi interjected with a pointed look that clearly said 'back off' loud and clear.

Leave it to your brother to play chaperone without even realizing it. Hinata shot him a grateful nod, refocusing on maintaining an outward veneer of friendly casualness even as indecent temptation blazed through his thoughts.

"Yeah for sure, the weather alone was no joke," he managed in response, scratching the back of his neck absently. "Pretty sure half my gains just came from lugging beach equipment around all day in that type of heat."

You giggled at that, leaning forward with your chin resting on one palm as you studied him intently - completely missing the way Hinata's chest expanded on a sharp inhale. This close, he could almost taste the light floral notes of your shampoo intermingling with that intoxicating natural musk he'd fantasized about nuzzling between so many times...

"Well either way, it looks good on you Shoyo," you hummed, causing his stomach to swoop dangerously. "Those poor Brazilian ladies must have been fainting all over the place thanks to these muscles."

You reached out as if to teasingly prod at his bicep, but Hinata aborted the contact at the last second on instinct - afraid of just how incendiary your innocent touch might actually feel after he'd spent countless nights fucking into his fist while imagining those same fingers wrapped around his aching cock already.

"Hah, well you know...gotta practice some restraint now and then," he deflected clumsily, ignoring the look Tadashi shot him at the obvious evasion.

Inside, however, Hinata could already feel himself steadily unraveling just from this relatively tame interaction. The fantasies he'd nurtured and refined over his years in Brazil were swiftly taking on feverish new life thanks to your close proximity and utter obliviousness to them.

How many times during those long, aching nights in his tiny apartment had he imagined wrapping your lush curves around him just like this? Grinding himself against your body with broken groans while chasing after the slick, velvety cunt he'd been cruelly denied for years on end now?

God, you had no idea how desperately he craved the sensation of sinking into your softness until his hips were nestled snugly against your ass, until he could finally bury his face into that sensitive spot on your neck and inhale deeply as your cunt clenched around him so tightly...

"Hinata? You okay there?" Tadashi's knowing look pierced straight through his reverie, instantly dousing Hinata's rapidly spiraling thoughts in a frigid dose of reality.

He blinked rapidly as you waved a hand in front of his face, looking equal parts amused and concerned by his sudden hazy distraction. Right, he really needed to rein this runaway lust in before it became far too obvious to you both—especially while surrounded by crowds like this.

"I'm great, just got a little spaced out there for a second!" Hinata reassured you with what he hoped was a disarming grin. "No need to worry about little old me though. I should probably, um, head back and get changed for the game soon before the coaches come hunting."

Yet even as he tried to take a polite step back, Hinata felt his resolve crumbling beneath your warm, expectant stare again. Before he could retreat entirely, his gaze dipped down to trace the gentle flare of your hips beneath the cinched fabric there. He swallowed hard while envisioning settling his palms against those tantalizing curves, tugging you forward until—

"Right, right of course!" Your bright voice thankfully pierced through his heated trance, finally allowing Hinata some semblance of reprieve. "We'll be cheering loud for you out there, so go get 'em!"

You beamed up at him beautifully, so sweetly unaware of the scorching extent he wanted to make you cheer for him behind closed doors later. Behind the innocent encouragement, however, Hinata detected the faintest flicker of the same fiery tenacity that had first drawn his obsessive attentions years before.

A silent promise that when you inevitably saw through the paper-thin barriers he currently hid behind, you would confront those long-suppressed temptations roaring between your forms with the same headstrong intensity you approached everything else in life.

And God, did the mere implication of having all that vibrant passion channeled solely towards him in the throes of writhing rapture nearly make Hinata's knees buckle completely.

"Y-Yeah," he rasped out with visible effort, fighting to regain some semblance of composure. "I should...I'll see you both after?"

The unspoken yearning dripping from those words hung heavy between your bodies like a tangible Siren's call. You simply nodded reflexively, seemingly unaware of the delirious fantasies blazing behind Hinata's burning stare now. He turned on wobbling legs and forced himself to retreat before losing the battle entirely.

Only once he was safely out of your line of sight did Hinata finally allow one trembling exhale to slip free, entire body quaking with unsated need. He could no longer deny just how badly you unknowingly affected him down to his very core. The years of separation and growth had only stoked those kindling flames into an insatiable furnace crying out for your submission now.

Well, one way or another, Hinata refused to spend another sleepless night tormenting over fevered fantasies that would forever remain a tragic fantasy. Not when the breathtaking reality of peeling you apart with his tongue and reclaiming every sweet inch of untapped paradise waited so deliciously within reach at last.

Now that the game was truly afoot between you both in earnest, he would stop at nothing to stoke your innocent curiosities into an all-consuming firestorm of mutual rapture blazing properly at long, long last.

The roar of the crowd was deafening as Hinata's teammates swarmed him in raucous celebration after their hard-fought victory. Bokuto's boisterous voice could be heard bellowing something about a "banger of a post-win rager" while good-natured slaps and jeers echoed off the walls.

Normally, Hinata would have been right in the thick of the chaos - feeding off the infectious energy and hollering along with the best of them. Tonight, however, all that background noise barely even registered past the singular focus currently demanding every iota of his undivided attentions.

Because there you were across the bustling floor, radiant smile shining brighter than the overhead stadium lights as you chatted animatedly with Tadashi. Hinata swallowed hard, unable to tear his molten stare away as you tossed your head back in unbridled laughter at something your twin said - the column of your throat completely on display and begging for the torrid worship of his mouth.

His lashes fluttered momentarily as Hinata allowed himself to fully envision crowding into your space, caging you against his solid frame as you stared up at him in breathless bewilderment. He could practically taste the dizzying cocktail of your floral shampoo and rapidly spiking arousal intermingling as his rough palms ghosted over the feminine flare of your hips possessively.

"Such a good girl for me tonight," Hinata would rumble in a rasping growl that would make you shudder. "Cheering me on so sweetly... you deserve a reward now, don’t you kitten?"

He would dip in close enough for his lips to brush against the feverish pulse in your throat as you swallowed convulsively at his bold suggestion. Hinata could almost feel the delicate shiver wracking your frame as those innocent, expressive eyes darkened with dawning temptation right before he claimed your parted mouth in a searing kiss.

Only the graze of a heavy palm against his shoulder snapped Hinata out of that delirious trance. His head whipped around to find Atsumu crowding into his space with a cocky smirk that immediately put him on edge.

"So hey Sho-kun," the blond purred in a voice like dark silk. "Looks like you already got plans for celebrating that big win judging by how you're eye-fucking Yamaguchi's sister over there."

Hinata tensed, digging deep to remain outwardly unfazed in the face of such blatantly provocative teasing. But a small, traitorous part of him couldn't deny the undercurrent of hot, thrilling validation thrumming through Atsumu's words either.

Someone else had clearly noticed the heated gazes and molten tension sizzling between your forms now. And rather than mock or judge, Atsumu seemed to practically savor Hinata's quiet infatuation in rare approval.

"Not sure what you're on about," he grumbled out gruffly, maintaining a carefully curated mask of nonchalance for appearances. "Pretty sure that's just what people look like when they're happy for their friend's success on the court."

Even as he deflected, Hinata's eyes tracked the graceful sweep of your body as you pivoted on your heel, only to find your bright gaze directed right back towards him now. The universe itself seemed to narrow down to just your smoldering forms alone as every fractured second ground to a halt between each shared inhale.

God, you had no idea just how much you tempted complete madness with those guileless eyes and softly parted lips currently burning into him from across the arena. Hinata felt himself beginning to slowly unspool the longer you held his molten stare hostage effortlessly.

Whether you realized it or not, you were rapidly fueling the fever pitch of his determination to ruin you properly before the night's end stretched on any longer. Years of quietly molded fantasies and memories culminated into this blazing inertia demanding action before it consumed every last rational fiber of his being utterly.

"She's looking this way, right at you man," Atsumu murmured in a honeyed timbre beside him, sounding alarmingly similar to the sinful voice of temptation itself now. "Don't you think it's about time to stop all this creeping around and find out if she really does have the hots for ya?"

Hinata rumbled low in his chest, more sensations than coherent words contained in the resonance vibrating across his tensed shoulders. That flame Atsumu had so accurately identified was rapidly becoming an inferno, stoking his lust higher with every passing second that your twin gazes remained tangled amidst the celebration unfolding without a single care for propriety.

He could practically see the searing outline burned into your guileless depths in that instant - the imprints of what sculpted shoulders and ridges he might unknowingly awaken your first breathless, shameless stirrings over more clearly. And the thought of defiling that remaining innocence forever with unchecked passion was nearly enough to make his restraint snap entirely.

"Shoyo! Get your ass over here already, celebratory shots time!"

Bokuto's booming voice shattered the fevered tension at last as Hinata reluctantly tore his focus away from your magnetic orbit. But not before shooting you one final smoldering look heavy with dark promise.

Beside him, Atsumu chuckled with deeply layered appreciation at the loaded exchange passing between your forms without another word necessary. Hinata responded with a subtle, predatory smirk that clearly conveyed his intent to revel in that unspoken rapport with you unrepentantly moving forward.

"Sounds fun and all, but I've got my eyes on a different kind of celebration at the moment," he murmured with thinly-veiled purpose.

Then, with each rolling step carrying fresh inertia towards your glowing silhouette lingering nearby, Hinata allowed the last crumbling shreds of hesitation to dissolve into anticipatory heat. His cock was already achingly stiff against the unforgiving fabric of his shorts by the time he reached your side - so utterly enthralled by your presence it bordered on rapturous fever.

Outwardly, he maintained a careful veneer of casual nonchalance even as his ember irises scorched over every tempting contour presently filling his peripherals. Up close once more, Hinata could smell the crisp, clean tang of citrus and jasmine radiating off your warm skin - a heady, intoxicating cocktail of purity and hidden feminine heat that made his palms itch with the overwhelming need to touch you.

"Hey sis, you about ready to—?" Tadashi started, only to freeze at the abrupt weight of Hinata's relentless stare pinning him in place.

To his endless credit, your twin didn't immediately bristle or snap into defensive mode despite certainly sensing the banked fires raging beneath Hinata's stoic mask at that moment. No, Tadashi simply studied him for several prolonged heartbeats with uncanny calculation filtering behind his eyes. Then, drawing himself upright, he cleared his throat and fixed Hinata with a long, weighted look.

"Well, I'll just leave you two to catch up then," he murmured with pointed emphasis, bestowing his trust onto Hinata's shoulders with that single declaration of space.

Hinata appreciated the courtesy and read between the lines readily. Tadashi might suspect his real motives were not nearly so benign any longer, but was withholding final judgment one way or another based on how Hinata chose to conduct himself next.

With a subtle nod of acknowledgment, Hinata turned the full force of his focus back to where you remained innocently oblivious to the battle of wills flickering between both men. God, the lack of guile currently shining in your beaming features sent fresh lances of protective fervency singing through his veins amidst the hunger.

"You were amazing out there tonight, Shoyo," you praised without reservation, smile stretching radiant and warm in a way that left him breathless all over again. "That cross-spike in the third set was seriously amazing!"

"Thanks, I worked really hard on perfecting that setup," Hinata rumbled out in a voice gone to velvet gravel that made your pupils blow fractionally wider despite your naive enthusiasm.

He drank in the subtle shiver that wracked your frame, satisfaction curling hot in his gut. Clearly while years of fantasizing had in no way prepared Hinata for reintroducing the untempered rasp of blatant desire into your dynamic, it had the intended effect all the same.

Unable to resist further, he took a prowling step into your orbit - delighting in the way your breath hitched when his solid chest brushed yours. His callused fingers itched to splay over the bare skin of your waist, desperate to feel the rapid fluttering of your pulse against his rough palms properly.

"Although I have to admit..." Hinata continued, trailing off to allow his heated amber stare to rove over you in an indolent sweep. "What really pushed me through those grueling sets tonight was the thought of having you splayed out on my bedsheets later, kitten..."

The blatant crudity of his words had your jaw dropping in a wordless 'o' of shock, though Hinata couldn't help but savor the glazed glimmer of temptation momentarily unfurling behind your innocent irises. He craved to chase that forbidden spark until it transformed into an inferno of shameless yearning matching his own finally.

"Wh—Shoyo!" you stammered out breathlessly, shrinking back instinctively as heat rushed to stain your cheeks in a delicious blush. "Where is all this even coming from all of a sudden?"

He flashed you that crooked, predatory smirk you'd never seen grace his features previously - the one that promised each unholy revelation to come was but a mere crumb trailing toward the true raptures he planned to show you soon enough. Hinata braced one broad forearm against the wall beside your head, effectively caging you into his solid frame as his mouth ghosted dangerously close enough to sow the first seeds of sweet ruin onto your parted lips.

"Don't act so scandalized, princess," the rumbling growl thrummed between your shared breaths in a seductive caress. "You and I both know you've been perched on that razor's edge of temptation every time your pretty eyes roved over my body earlier too...imagining how different things finally feel compared to everything fading memory lets you fantasize over at night alone, hmm?"

You shuddered bodily at the deliciously lurid insinuation, the mere suggestion of such forbidden knowledge rendering you momentarily mute despite his blunt provocations. Hinata savored each stunned flutter of those long lashes adoringly, already anticipating the euphoric gasps and mewls he'd soon elicit from that sweet mouth as he thoroughly unraveled your remaining innocence inch by molten inch.

"Shoyo..." you tried to interject, though the plea emerged strained and hoarse - undercut by the delirious curl of desire already blossoming between your thighs from his mere proximity alone.

"Shhh...it's okay," he hushed in a low purr that vibrated through your entire frame. "I've got you now, kitten...no more dancing around everything this fire between us has been simmering towards since the very beginning."

Hinata punctuated the declaration by nuzzling his sharp nose along the sensitive column of your throat, inhaling your floral musk like the sweetest opiate as he blazed a path towards the hollow of your ear with languid, open-mouthed worship.

"Don't worry, baby...you'll be whimpering out every filthy little fantasy you've been too ashamed to indulge properly soon enough," he rasped in dark promise against your shuddering form. "I'll ruin you in the most obscene and delicious ways imaginable until you come apart completely from my cock—"

"Shoyo!"

Your sharp cry finally snapped him out of that feverish spiral, though Hinata refused to withdraw from the intimate sprawl of your twined bodies entirely yet. Not when your pupils had already blown wide through the exquisite conflict of self-consciousness and kindling arousal set aflame between your forms at long last.

He studied you carefully for several heartbeats, relishing the sight of your chest flushing a rosy hue. You looked utterly debauched despite his relatively tame provocations so far—almost as though faint impressions of your sordid imaginings were already searing themselves across your lovely canvas for him to marvel over properly.

"Sorry, got a little carried away there, I guess," he breathed out in a gravelly rumble that had you quivering anew. "You just have no idea what it does to me seeing you so sweet and unraveled like this for once."

When you didn't immediately respond beyond a shaky inhale, Hinata pressed forward—quite literally, as he angled your conjoined bodies into an even more intimate press that trapped his rapidly swelling cock between your trembling thighs in delicious promise.

"You want to know exactly where all this is coming from, baby girl?" he husked out in a velvety baritone ghosting between your quivering lips once more. "Well, why don't you come back to my place and let me show you in the ways I've been dreaming about you for years now?"

He punctuated the depraved offer with a slow, sinuous roll of his hips that made your eyes flutter and breath hitch with unbridled shock.

"O-Oh! I, um..." You stammered breathlessly, those soulful eyes darting between his heated stare and the insistent ridge grinding up against your clothed heat. "Well your place...that sounds fun, I guess! I'd love to hear more about the game from you, you know—"

Fuck, your endearing obliviousness almost made him groan in helpless rapture right then and there. Perhaps the written invitation had been far too subtle for your innocent sensibilities to pick up on properly. This called for a more forceful approach...one that would leave no uncertainty regarding his deliciously heated intentions after you were behind closed doors together finally.

So in one fluid surge of masculine aggression, Hinata allowed his dominant arm to snake around your waist fully, hoisting you up and flush against his rock-solid frame without warning. He swallowed your adorable gasp of surprise with a molten growl, relishing the way your palms splayed out across his chest reflexively as you instinctively anchored your slight form to his much larger one.

"I'm going to fuck you senseless tonight, kitten," he grated out in low, feral promise against your parted lips, already pivoting to make for the nearest exit. "Going to make you come apart for me over and over until this sweet little body of yours knows it belongs to nobody else but me from now until eternity..."

You whimpered beautifully at that crass vow, writhing unconsciously as his free hand palmed the generous curve of your asscheek in rough possession. Hinata felt his cock throb maddeningly in response, lust blazing white-hot as fantasy after fantasy spiraled closer to searing reality at long, aching last.

"Don't try fighting this anymore," he commanded in a molten rasp dripping temptation with each vowel. "I've only just begun to show you the true depths of my depravity...but if you're a good little girl, I'll give you everything you ever fantasized about and more before the sun rises tomorrow, baby..."

With that husked benediction still shivering through your very marrow, Hinata carried you both towards sweet, ruinous rapture awaiting in the distance without another flickering shred of restraint left to tame the inferno blazing between your tangled spirits at last.

You would be his utterly - shattered, debauched, reborn amidst the ashes of your innocence tonight and any nights beyond left to come afterwards. And Hinata already knew he would revel in every shattering, breathless unraveling until the boundaries separating your forms simply ceased to exist at all in the wake of such profound, profane communion.

As soon as Hinata opened the door to his apartment, you immediately brushed past him—drawn towards the stunning floor-to-ceiling windows spanning the far wall with stars in your eyes. He was instantly hypnotized by the sway of your hips and couldn't tear his heated gaze away. He watched hungrily as you pressed against the glass, enamored by the glittering cityscape before you.

"Pretty cool view, right?" he rumbled, slowly prowling up behind your petite frame. You startled when his chest pressed against your back, instantly surrounding you in his heady masculine presence.

"Y-Yeah, it's incredible," you stammered, heart fluttering against your ribcage. "You can see everything from up here."

"Can you now?" Hinata's voice dropped an octave, that suggestive lilt making you shiver. His calloused palms skated up your bare arms unhurriedly as he leaned down, hot breath fanning over the sensitive shell of your ear. "And just what exactly did you have in mind for enjoying those...premium sights, baby?"

You bit your lip to stifle a whimper as his nose trailed along your neck - undoubtedly scenting the arousal already trickling through your veins despite your best efforts. Hinata chuckled lowly when you failed to respond beyond shaky exhales.

"Don't get all shy on me now," he crooned, warm lips brushing your pulse point. "Pretty sure I've earned the right to be a little curious after spending years dreaming about having you just like this..."

Your breath hitched as Hinata's palms smoothed over your abdomen to splay possessively across your lower belly, fingertips grazing the waistband of your skirt in clear suggestion. He rutted his hips against the swell of your ass - allowing you to feel every thick inch of his cock grinding against you insistently.

"Well?" He prompted in that same velvet-rough timbre, clearly expecting a response this time. "How about giving me a preview of exactly what's gonna make you squirm and whimper when I finally get this cute little skirt off you, hmm?"

You swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry as the reality of Hinata's scorching attentions crashed over you in waves. His words were every bit as crude and demanding as the heated length now nudging against you with an undercurrent of commanding virility.

"I...I don't know what you—"

Hinata's hands squeezed your hips sharply, cutting off your rebuttal with a growl of displeasure that sent a frisson of need zinging straight to your core on instinct.

"None of that, kitten," he rumbled in rebuke against your hairline, strong arms like steel bands bracketing you into place. "You don't get to play innocent anymore - not when you've been teasing me without even realizing it for years now."

One of those large palms trailed upwards to palm your breast with gratifying possession, fingers toying with your pebbled nipple through the thin fabric in a way that made you gasp.

"That's it...just like that," Hinata groaned, sounding enraptured by your stunned vocalization. "God, you have no idea how bad I wanna hear you let it all out without holding back tonight. Been saving up those gorgeous little noises for me all along, haven't you, baby?"

Emboldened by your trembling silence and wide-eyed awe, Hinata spun you around to face him abruptly - pinning you against the cool glass with one of his thick thighs wedged between yours. The predatory intensity in his hooded stare left you dizzy as he caged you in with his powerful frame.

"Come on, princess...don't be shy," he murmured while rolling his hips in tantalizing emphasis, grinding his length against your abdomen in simmering promise. "Tell me exactly where you want me to start worshipping that sweet body with my hands and mouth first..."

He punctuated the lewd offer with a slow, sensual lap of his tongue along the column of your throat that had you gasping and bucking against him reflexively. You'd never seen this side of him before - this unabashed, dominant side that exuded a magnetic forcefield of pure, carnal energy.

"Sh-Shoyo," you pleaded in a breathy voice you barely recognized. "This is so embarrassing, I...I mean we've never even kissed and you're talking about—"

Your words died in a strangled moan as Hinata's mouth crashed into yours - devouring you in a hot, open-mouthed kiss that seared with unchecked hunger. His lips moved against yours insistently, coaxing your own into a messy tango of lips, tongues, and teeth as his hands skated down to grasp the back of your thighs, hiking you up onto his hips as though you weighed nothing.

"Mmph, fuck," he panted raggedly right before he latched onto your bottom lip with a lewd suck that left you both groaning. "Tastes so fucking good - I could spend the rest of my life kissing you like this and never get enough..."

The admission sent a delirious thrill of arousal coursing through you, leaving your skin tingling and blood humming with molten desire. Without thinking, you looped your arms around his broad shoulders to anchor yourself closer, grinding down on the thick erection jutting up against you shamelessly.

Hinata groaned against your mouth, rutting into the sweet friction your bodies were creating. You could feel how wet you were through the thin fabric of your panties, and judging from the way he was grinding against you like a man possessed, so did he.

"Fucking hell, kitten...you really want me to take you like this, don't you?" he husked, voice raw with lust. "Get rid of these fucking clothes and just fuck you right up against the window for the entire world to see how fucking needy you are for me?"

His filthy words left you panting and mewling, desperately clinging to him as he continued his ruthless assault on your senses. You didn't even care about the potential repercussions of being so exposed right now. All that mattered was the heat, the pleasure, and the way Shoyo was looking at you as though he wanted to eat you alive.

"I'm gonna give it to you just like that, baby...so good, so fucking deep and hard," Hinata growled, nipping at your neck with a hint of teeth. "Gonna show you what it feels like to get fucked within an inch of your life by the only man who'll ever get to see you come apart like this..."

His fingers were digging into your ass cheeks now, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh as he ground his cock against your dripping core. You were practically writhing against him, desperate for release but too lost in the moment to think about anything other than chasing the delicious friction between your bodies.

"Shoyo, please," you gasped, arching your back and grinding down harder against his thigh. You were so close, you could feel the pressure building, your body trembling with anticipation. "Please, I'm so close..."

Hinata's hand slipped between your legs, pressing against your throbbing clit through the thin fabric of your panties. His fingers rubbed slow, firm circles as his cock continued to grind against your thigh, and within seconds, you were teetering on the edge.

His forehead pressed against yours as he stared into your eyes, his expression a mixture of intense arousal and affection. "Let go, baby. I wanna see you come for me," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that resonated deep inside you.

Your orgasm hit like a tidal wave, washing over you in a white-hot rush of pleasure. Your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth open in a silent cry as the sensation consumed you. You felt Hinata's lips press against yours in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans as your body trembled and shuddered in his arms.

When you finally came down from your high, Hinata's arms were wrapped around you, holding you close and stroking your back. "That was so fucking hot, baby," he murmured, kissing your temple. "You don’t know how badly I wanted to touch you like that for so long now..."

Your face flushed as the realization of what just happened hit you. You'd never experienced anything like that before - so raw and primal, but also tender and intimate. "It was...I've never..." you stammered, too embarrassed to put your thoughts into words.

If possible, you watched as Hinata's eyes darken even further with lust, his grip on you tightening possessively. "Never?" he repeated, his voice low and rough as he began to nuzzle and kiss your neck. "Fuck, kitten...you mean nobody has ever touched you like that before?"

You shook your head, biting your lip as you avoided his heated gaze. But Hinata was having none of that, his hands gripping your jaw gently but firmly as he forced you to look at him. "Don't hide from me, princess," he murmured, his lips brushing yours as he spoke. "I wanna hear you say it. Say that I'm the first man to make you feel like this..."

You felt your body responding to his words, the desire coursing through your veins again, stronger than before. "Y-Yes," you whispered, unable to resist the urge to grind against him. "Only you, Shoyo."

The words were barely out of your mouth before he was kissing you again, his hands roaming over your body as he guided you back towards the window once more. You could feel his cock straining against his pants, pressing against your belly, and a small part of you was almost afraid of how big he felt.

But there was no turning back now - not when Hinata was growling and rutting against you like a wild animal, his hands already tearing at your clothes. You didn't protest, too caught up in the moment to think about anything other than getting him naked as quickly as possible.

Your skirt and top were tossed carelessly aside, followed by your bra and panties. You stood naked before him, a flush creeping up your neck and spreading across your chest as his hungry eyes roamed over your body. You felt your nipples harden, whether it was from the sheer intensity of his gaze or the cool glass behind you, you couldn't tell.

Hinata was breathing heavily now, his pupils blown wide as he drank in the sight of you. His hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, making you gasp and arch into his touch. "So pretty," he murmured, leaning in to kiss the valley between your breasts. "And all mine..."

Your head fell back against the glass as he took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue. You were already aching for him, desperate to feel him inside you. Your hands found his hair, threading through the soft strands as he lavished attention on your breasts, his hand sneaking down to slide between your thighs.

You gasped as his fingers parted your slick folds, circling your entrance teasingly. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, a smirk playing on his lips as he eased one finger inside, making you moan softly. He set a steady pace, working you open slowly, his mouth still sucking and nibbling at your nipples.

"More," you whimpered, rolling your hips in time with his movements. "Please, Shoyo...I need more..."

He chuckled softly, adding another finger and pumping them faster. You could feel the heat building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter as his thumb rubbed against your clit. You were panting and writhing against him now, completely lost in the sensation.

Hinata pulled back suddenly, leaving you feeling empty and needy. But before you could protest, he was tugging his shirt off, tossing it to the side and then shoving his pants down. You sucked in a breath as his cock sprang free, thick and heavy, the tip absolutely glistening with precum.

His eyes met yours, dark and full of lust. "Turn around and bend over for me, baby," he growled, his voice sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. "I wanna fuck you from behind - wanna see your pretty little ass bounce as I pound into you."

You did as he asked, bracing yourself against the window as he pressed his cock against your entrance, rubbing the tip up and down your slit. You were already so wet, you could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs. Hinata gripped your hips tightly, pulling you back onto his cock, hissing as the chubby tip slipped inside.

"Ah f-fuck," he grunted, hissing as your walls clenched around him, struggling to adjust to his size. "Taking me so well, baby..."

You moaned, trying to relax and let him sink deeper. You could feel every inch of him stretching and filling you, the burning stretch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. Hinata bottomed out, his hips flush against your ass, and the sensation was indescribable.

Your elbows buckled and you dropped forward, cheek pressing against the cool glass as Hinata began to fuck you, slow and deep, each stroke driving him deeper. You could hear his labored breathing, feel his hands tightening on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he picked up the pace.

One of his hands slid up your spine before grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging back. "Fuck, look at you," he growled, his voice ragged with pleasure. "So fucking perfect, taking my cock so well...just like I knew you would, kitten."

The praise only heightened the pleasure coursing through you. You could feel your second orgasm building, and Hinata's relentless pounding wasn't helping. You were a moaning, panting mess, the window fogged with your breath, his fingers tangled in your hair and your breasts pressed flush against the glass.

"You think anyone can see us from down there, baby?" Hinata's voice was pure sin as he continued to thrust into you. "How does it feel knowing anyone who looks up can see just how fucking needy and desperate you are for me?"

The thought should have made you nervous, but all you could focus on was the pleasure, the way his cock was stretching and filling you so perfectly. You were practically drooling at the thought of him claiming you like this - right here, where anyone could see.

"Yes, yes, please, don't stop," you moaned, the pressure building higher and higher until you felt like you were going to explode. "Shoyo, I'm so close...please make me cum, please..."

Hinata's hips began to piston even faster, his cock slamming into you so hard you were sure there would be bruises later. He was grunting and growling, his grip on your hair almost painful as he pounded into you, his cock hitting all the right places. You could feel your climax approaching, the tension coiling tighter and tighter, your walls clenching around him as he chased his own release.

"That's it, baby...come for me," he rasped, his breath hot against your ear. "Cum all over my cock, I wanna feel it..."

And just like that, you were tumbling over the edge, crying out as the pleasure washed over you. Your body shook and trembled, your walls fluttering and squeezing around him as you all but squirted, coating his cock in a flood of wetness. Hinata fucked you through your orgasm, his pace unrelenting, the slick sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room.

"F-fuck, kitten," he growled, his hips snapping against you, his cock hitting so deep it made you whimper. "I'm gonna cum, gonna fill you up...fuck!"

You could feel him twitching inside you, his movements becoming erratic and then suddenly he was burying himself deep, his cock pulsing as he came, painting your walls with hot spurts of his cum. He collapsed against you, his weight pushing you harder against the window, his breath hot against your neck.

For a few minutes, all you could do was catch your breath, your bodies still joined. But then you felt his large palms smooth over the underside of your knees, lifting them up and hooking them over his forearms, effectively trapping you between his body and the glass.

"Wait, what are you—oh my God," you moaned loudly, feeling his cock harden and swell inside you almost instantly. "Sh-Shoyo, w-wait a sec, I—"

"Can't," he interrupted in a guttural snarl, grinding his hips into yours as he began to slowly fuck his cum deeper inside you. "Need another, kitten. Need to feel you come on my cock one more time before we get cleaned up."

"O-one more??" you choked out, unable to believe the words coming out of his mouth. You were exhausted and still a little dazed, but the way he was thrusting into you was quickly reigniting the fire within your core.

"Mhmm," he hummed, nuzzling and kissing the crook of your neck and shoulder. "Just one more...then I'll stop."

It was a lie and you both knew it.

[cordeliawhohung]

mafia!ghost learns that shy!reader is a virgin the hard way...

mafia!141 masterlist

Physical touch used to scare you. There was something about the way that someone else’s flesh against yours that made your skin crawl, like they were soaking up every thought and memory you have ever had. Stealing the very essence that made up the fiber of your mussels and the mass of your brain. Maybe that’s what made it so nice; why people enjoyed it. Being vulnerable, allowing someone to behold the soft meat that you hid underneath clothes to never be seen or kissed was liberating. 

Things were different when it came to Simon. When he touched you it felt more like your bodies were intertwining together, where nerves knotted into one and blood mixed so violently that it clotted. It was sharing memories, whispering thoughts rather than stealing them. And you craved his touch. Craved the soft brushing of his fingertips against your arm or the way his hands gripped your hips, and you wanted more of it. So much so that you began to dream of it. 

You’d dream of what his lips would feel like against your neck, teeth grazing against the tender skin that throbbed with your pulse while his hips grinded into yours. You wanted that pressure, that all encompassing weight to crush you, to grind away at you until you were open and bare for him. And you wanted more. More and more until it was too much, and even then it still wasn’t enough, always close, always teetering, always…

And then you woke up. 

It always ended up like that. You would always wake up right before the ending, and you would find yourself laying in bed as a pent up and sweating mess. Usually you would roll over and pick up where your dream left off, taking care of yourself the only way you knew how with your fingers on your clit, but that time you couldn’t. Because you weren’t in your bed, you were in Simon’s. 

What had been a night to binge a good TV show turned into a series of just one more episode until both of you were too tired to move. Rather than take you home, he carried you into bed where you spent the entire night with his arms wrapped around your waist and your back pulled into his chest. He wasn’t there when you woke up, but you could hear the distant sound of water hitting tile somewhere down the hallway outside of his room, which meant he wasn’t far. 

Surely you could have risked it. Could have dipped your hand into the shorts Simon let you sleep in and made quick work of yourself before he came back, but the idea of him walking in on you like that was repellant enough. Caught with your hands between your thighs like a whore was a risk you weren’t willing to take. So you laid there, scrunched up on your side while your thighs pressed tightly together in an attempt to soothe the throbbing in your cunt. If anything, it only provoked the feeling further, and to make matters worse, you were smothered in the scent of nicotine and Simon’s cologne. 

It didn’t take him long to emerge from the shower, and when he entered the room he was half naked and strutting around like he had never heard the word modesty in his entire life. A plain towel hung low on his hips, and the only reason it was even remotely secure was due to the fact he held the knot just below his navel. His hair was still wet and sat in heavy clumps that he attempted to brush out with his fingers as he approached your side of the bed with a smile. 

“Mornin’ love,” he hummed. His weight sank into the mattress next to you, pulling you into his gravity while his fingers brushed against your cheek. “Sleep alright?”

You nodded your head and hummed in response, but somehow your voice felt pitchy and nearly whiny. You couldn’t be blamed. Not when each and every one of Simon’s tattoos were on display for you and you were engulfed in the fresh scent of his body wash and shampoo. Warmth radiated from his hand that ignited a fire that ate away at your stomach, and you found your thighs squeezing together once more as you attempted to bury yourself further into the mattress and blankets. 

It was just because you had just woken up, surely. Simon had never seen you first thing in the morning like that before, and you prayed he would chalk it up to some early morning quirk of yours. Judging by the smirk that blossomed on his face, you knew he saw right through you. Like he could smell the arousal seeping from your body. 

“Yeah?” he prompted, voice purposefully teasing in the most wicked way that made your thighs shift. 

He chuckled at your pathetic response, and you wanted to be snarky but the words got caught in your throat the moment his hand slid from your cheek and down to your shoulder. Fingers hooking underneath the blanket, he carefully pulled it down as if he was undressing you, and to make it worse, he didn’t take his eyes off of yours. 

“What’s got you all hot and bothered, sweetheart?” he asked, tone purposefully low as he dipped his head closer to yours. 

His hand continued to run lower as he moved more of the blanket off of you while he explored your legs. And you tried to reply to him, tried to think of something to say but nothing would form properly in your mouth or your brain, so all you did was stutter. Unforgiving, Simon wasn’t making it easy on you at all as his hands drifted between your legs. Before you could stop them, you found your knees splitting apart, legs opening up as if you had been burnt by his touch. 

Inviting himself in, Simon fully hopped up on the bed with you, hips settling between your legs while his arms rested on either side of your head. Spiky clumps of still wet hair rubbed against your cheek as his lips latched onto the side of your neck. Blood gushed through your veins and arteries so powerfully you were certain you’d burst at the seams, but no reaction in your body could distract you from the heavy and firm weight that settled on your lower stomach. 

Simon’s towel had come off. 

“Words, love,” he said, breath tickling your neck. 

With so many emotions and thoughts swirling in your mind they all started to blend into one massive mess. You wanted, needed, something to help get rid of that aching feeling in your cunt, and yet at the same time the pressure inside of you built up so quickly you felt like you would pass out. Torture, that’s what it was. Needing something so terribly bad and not knowing how to ask for it. 

“Simon,” you stuttered out, throat tight. 

“Me?” he repeated, lips finally tearing away from your neck. 

He pushed himself away from you until he was on his knees and sitting back on his haunches. You felt small laying underneath him like that, and your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you stared up at him, eyes widening at the sight of him. Thick corded muscles in his bicep flexed and pulled as he pumped at himself while the sticky sound of precum accompanied the movement. Looking down between your legs you saw the way he was nestled there, thick thighs spreading yours apart while the leaking tip of his cock threatened to ruin your borrowed shorts. 

It was then that you noticed the silvery sheen that decorated his glands. At first you thought it was the trick of the light, some sort of wetness that just reflected back the dim sunlight that peeked through the blinds. Then you realized they were piercings. Several of them, to be in fact, all surrounding the head of his cock like a crown. You sat there in awe for a moment as you watched his fingers lazily twist and tug at his tip, length hardening with each bit of stimulation.

“I’ve got you this worked up?” he teased, which had your attention returning to his face. His free hand rested on your thigh before slowly snaking up to your hip inch by burning inch. He gripped the waistband of your shorts and gently began to pull down, exposing the soft flesh and bone that laid underneath. “Sorry ‘bout that, love. Guess I should do something to make it up to you, huh?” 

It wasn’t until the shorts had nearly slipped past your pelvic bone that you realized just exactly what you were getting yourself into. More so, what you were getting Simon into. You had never had sex before, and even more, you hadn’t told him. Should you just stay quiet about it? Would he be upset if you didn’t tell him that he was the one taking your virginity? Did he even want to be with someone so clumsy and inexperienced? Vicious thoughts began to swirl around your head, and before you knew it, your hand reached out and grabbed his wrist, instantly making him cease his movements. 

“I’ve never…” you blurted out before the air seemed to leave your lungs. You swallowed hard as you saw the confusion twist onto Simon’s face and you suddenly wished you hadn’t spoken at all. “I’ve never… like… had sex before.” 

Simon was silent for what felt like an eternity. He slowly raised your shorts back up over your hip as he wetted his lips with his tongue. Gears started to turn so furiously in his head you feared you had broken him. Any moment he would topple over with nothing but smoke and brain goo pouring out of his ears. Instead, he tilted his head to the side as if a curious dog. 

“You’re a virgin?” he said, confirming what you had already told him. 

For some reason, him putting it so bluntly was more flustering than the fact you had a naked man hovering over you. Ashamed, your legs began to instinctively close, only to be stopped due to Simon’s body still being in the way. 

“Sorry,” you muttered, eyes glancing anywhere in the room but him. 

“Sorry?” he repeated with a chuckle. The mattress shook as he began to shift to the side where he removed himself from between your legs before collapsing on the bed next to you. Thick, tattooed arms wrapped around you as he planted a quick and surprisingly soft kiss on your shoulder. “Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” 

“I killed the mood,” you retorted with a whine. You wanted to thrash around, kick your legs against the mattress, throw a fit, do something because of how frustrated you were that you, once again, fucked something up. Instead you settled for pressing the palm of your hands against your eyes with a heavy sigh. “Maybe it’s for the best. I’m too dumb and clumsy for this shit anyways.” 

“Hey,” Simon said, tone sounding almost like a warning. 

Without so much as straining, Simon raised a single hand and grabbed both of your wrists before carefully pulling your hands from your face. He propped himself up on his other arm so that he leaned over you halfway, obscuring your vision so that you had no choice but to look at him. 

“Sorry,” you apologized yet again before he had the chance to chastise you further. “I just- I want to, I do. It’s just, I get anxious and start to overthink and just…” 

It hadn’t even hit noon and for the millionth time that day your words died before they ever fully formed. His eyes were just so goddamn pretty, and you found it difficult to even think when he looked at you. Couple that with the fact he was naked and pressed against you, you were surprised you even got that much out to begin with. 

“Quit puttin’ yourself down, sweetheart. I’ll go slower next time,” he assured you as his hand let go of your wrists. “It’s alright to be nervous. That’s why we talk ‘bout these things, yeah?” 

His softness and understanding caught you off guard, though you weren’t sure why it did. Throughout your time together he had been nothing but soft, kind and considerate. An asshole for sure, and cocky as all hell, but maybe that’s what you liked most about him. So you nodded your head in agreement and mustered a quiet smile that had him rewarding you with a quick kiss. 

He didn’t fully pull away from the kiss, though. Gentle fingers brushed against the side of your face while his lips ghosted against yours in a smirk. Just like that, he had you falling apart at the seams again.

“Next time, I’ll go so slow you’ll be begging for it.” 

consider this my way of edging you guys <3

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

soap ghost and reader 3some?? 😻

“Steamin Jesus, look at you.” Johnny breathed out, practically droooling as he his eyes raked over your naked body. “Can’t believe L.T. has kept this body of yours all to himself.”

You let out a shaky sigh as Johnny’s hands began to wander across your body, his eyes flickering to Simon as his fingers ghosted over your breasts. “May I touch?”

“She’s yours for the night, Johnny. I’m only here to watch.” Simons voice was strained, and you looked over to find him watching the two of you intently, his hand lazily palming his cock through his boxers. “You know my rule, though. If she says stop, you stop.”

Johnny gave a nod in reply, his eyes falling back to you. His hands grabbed at both of your tits, massaging at the plump flesh firmly, before capturing your lips with his.

It was clear that Johnny was quite experienced. He kissed you like you were the only girl on the planet for him, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth, groaning against your lips as he memorized your taste.

He pulled away with a shit eating smirk, watching as your wandering eyes landed on the obvious buldge growing in his boxers “You gonna help a man out, lass?”

You took your lower lip between your teeth before looking over at your boyfriend, silently asking for permission even though the entire night was his idea.

“Go ahead, love.” Simon encouraged, giving you a soft smile. He never took his eyes off you as you sank down to your knees, freeing the Scotsman’s cock from the confines of his boxers.

Your eyes widened at his size, his cock being the farthest thing from small. It wasn’t as big as Simon’s, but it made up for the difference in length with just how thick it was.

Feeling your mouth water in anticipation, you wasted no time in taking his cock in your mouth, relishing in the fact that it had both men in the room groaning.

~~~~~~~~

“Fucking hell, you’re so tight.” Johnny groaned out, his hands finding purchase on your waist as he sank himself fully inside of you. “Feels so good, lass.”

Your eyes squeezed shut at the intrusion, the delicious stretch from his cock nearly causing you to see stars. Though he wasn’t as lengthy as Simon, Johnny was just as if not thicker, and it stretched your walls in ways you didn’t think possible. “Oh my god.”

You heard a soft groan come from the corner of the room, and looked over to see Simon pumping at his cock, which was now fully hard in his hand. “S-Si.”

“Johnny makin’ you feel good, sweet girl?” Simon cooed, not taking his eyes off of you as he pumped at himself faster. “I want to hear what my best mate does to you, baby. Wanna hear if he can make you feel as good as I do.”

You let out a guttural moan as Johnny began to pull out of you, before ramming himself back into your soaked cunt. He let out a low chuckle as he felt your walls clench around him, before setting a brutal pace.

His fingers were bruising against your waist, his nails digging into the flesh there as his cock assaulted your walls, the tip of it kissing your cervix with each jut of his hips.

Unlike Simon, Johnny was rough. His nails began to pierce your skin, his pace not relenting as he relished in the soft mewls that he elicited from you. Your hands gripped the sheets in front of you as you gasped for air, your mind growing fuzzy as your friend continued to fuck you dumb.

You didn’t notice Simon moved from his spot until his face was right in front of yours, his deep brown eyes filled with lust as he looked at your lips. “You doing alright, princess?”

You gave your boyfriend a weak nod, your eyes threatening to squeeze shut as the sounds of Johnnys moans, and the sound of his abdomen hitting your ass filled the air. Everything about this night was completely filthy, and you loved every second of it.

“Such a fuckin’ good girl.” Simon praised, pressing a lazy kiss to your lips. “Think you can help me get off while Johnny fucks you? Turns out my hand isn’t as effective as that pretty mouth of yours.”

You let out a soft whine as your boyfriend cupped your jaw, pressing another kiss to your lips before standing. You watched as he fisted himself for a moment longer before gesturing for you to open your mouth.

Oh yeah, this night was far from over.

[lovelookspretty]

who do you belong to?

rafe cameron x reader

━━ in which rafe has a wet dream n cant help but wake up his gf with his mouth.

warning(s): 18+ smut mdni ! reader is of age, dirty talking, oral n penetrative sex, name calling like daddy, baby, doll, slut, slapping, possessiveness, use of handcuffs???, rafe recording you two, raw sex (wrap it up folks), choking, non/dubcon, wet dreams

authors note: this is my first time ever writing on tumblr (also writing smut) so pls bare w me !!

rafe tosses and turns in his sleep, soft snores escaping his lips as he dreams of the most absolutely nasty, vulgar, dripping wet sex between the two of you over and over again.

you face away from rafe, still unconscious and dreaming too, burying your head deeper into the pillow.

from the movement, rafe’s eyes snap open and his gaze shifts over to you immediately. the sight of you asleep makes him smile. you’re so peaceful, so beautiful. he takes in every one of your curves. as he carefully pulls back the covers to reveal your bare body, it makes him hard.

as he watches you sleep, his fingers traces the curves of your body softly. his mouth waters, and he can’t resist anymore when he leans down to taste your skin. your sweetness on his tongue makes him smile into your flesh before kissing a trail up towards your neck.

there’s a slight moan from you while you’re asleep, and as your body flips over to lay on your back, he watches as your leg bends til he can see that pretty pussy of yours. he grins. he pulls back the blankets further, revealing more of your body before crawling on top of you slowly.

very briefly you can’t help but let out a single snore — one of your habits that rafe can’t help but smile at every time he hears it. his heart is racing with excitement. he carefully lifts your leg, draping it over his shoulder as he presses his face against your pussy. he inhales deeply, savoring your scent before kissing your folds gently.

you stir, shifting your body to a different position. unaware of your boyfriend, your pussy touches his face and drags across his lip briefly as you’re adjusting.

he takes advantage of the brief contact, his eyes closing in pleasure before feeling your pussy lips against his tongue just briefly before you move again. he grabs onto your hips to keep you still, pressing his warm tongue against your folds.

feeling your hips buck up against his face, he hums softly in approval, pressing his tongue into your entrance to taste you. he opens his mouth wider to take more of you in before starting to flick his tongue against your clit in slow circles.

your eyes open slowly when you feel the interaction below, and you look down to find rafe’s face buried deep in your pussy. just from the sight, you release a groan, tilting your head back as you grab a handful of his hair. “rafe, baby,” you draw out quietly.

he hums, his face covered in your slick, a smirk on his lips as he hears his name. he flick his tongue against your clit before sucking on it lightly. he tugs on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

he can hear how close you are, but just before you reach your peak, he pulls away, slowly rubbing his cheek against your folds before kissing your inner thighs, grinning slyly up at you. he knows exactly what he's doing, and he loves teasing you.

“you’re so annoying,” you mutter. “what are you doing?”

"i had a dream about you, about this," he says, kissing the your thigh again. he notices the way you're still squirming with need. he’s enjoying the sight of you, enjoying the power he has over you. you're his goddess, but he's your devil.

"you're begging me f’more, pulling my hair as i eat you out, and then we switch positions," he says, licking his lips as he looks at you, his voice lowering as he continues,

"i take you on all fours, giving it to you hard and fast because you've been naughty and need punishing," he says, grabbing your hips to flip you onto your stomach. “or at least that's what your daddy tells you as he thrusts into you, filling you up completely."

“my daddy?” you ask with raised brows. you let rafe lift your hips up so you’re sitting in front of him, ready for him.

"yes, your daddy," he says, positioning himself behind you, sliding the tip of his cock against your folds back and forth, teasing you. "you like that, don't you baby?"

“please put it in,” you whimper, attempting to push your hips back against him so hopefully he slides inside, but he just moves backward. “i love it. please.”

"beg for it," he says, teasing you again, sliding his cock back and forth against your slick folds, but not allowing himself to enter you yet. "say you want me to be your daddy."

you relish in the feeling of his tip playing between your lips. it’s all you can think about that you can’t even muster up a response because you aren’t listening.

"you aren’t saying it," he says, pulling away from you and flipping you over onto your back. "if you want to be punished, i can do that too . . . maybe you need a little discipline," he says, carefully caressing your face. "are you trying to misbehave, sweet girl?"

you immediately shake your head as you grab his wrist. “no, never that! please,” you plead, leaning into his palm, but he slips away.

"then you need to learn your place," he says, pulling your wrists up above your head and holding them there with one hand, while the other hand reaches into his drawer and pulls out a pair of handcuffs. "you're going to stay right here, and be a good girl for daddy.”

you watch as he attaches the cuffs around your wrists, locking them into place. the whole time he’s glancing between your face and the cuffs. the way you’re watching in interest as he’s preparing you for sex. you’re just so adorable to him.

you seem to relax when he has the cuffs around you, securing you in place with your wrists above your head and your body is free for him to explore. it almost gets you excited. some, though, since rafe reads it off of you right away.

"that's right, you're all mine now," he says, leaning down to press a kiss into your lips momentarily, pulling away even when you lean in for more. "and you're going to love every minute of it." he proceeds to kiss your neck and collarbone, slowly making his way down to your breasts.

you hum in pleasure, your eyebrows knitting together as you arch your back slightly, pushing more of your chest into his face.

he takes a nipple into his mouth. it’s so small and soft. he’s sucking and licking circles around it gently before engulfing it around his lips once more. he switches to the other bud to taste you, continuing to kiss and nibble at your chest as he reaches for his phone with his free hand. "i'm going to record this, and you're going to love watching it later.”

he takes a moment to set the phone up on the nightstand, just leaning against the box of tissues, making sure it's angled just right to capture everything. "now, be a good girl and spread your legs for me," he says, his voice low and commanding.

you listen to him, carefully pulling your legs apart to reveal your pussy, still aching to cum from earlier. you bite down on your bottom lip in anticipation.

he grins as he takes in the sight, his own throbbing hardness pulsating for you. "that's it, just like that," he says, trailing a finger down your inner thigh. "such a delicious little pussy. such a perfect little slut for me.”

“do you want me to fuck you baby?" he growls, his eyes lusty as he looks down at your body.

you nod eagerly, pulling at your wrists that were cuffed. “yes please. i would do anything to feel you.”

his eyes are trained on your pussy as he guides his cock up and down your slit. “what’s my name?” he murmurs.

“daddy,” you whimper, finally, gripping onto the metal link that connects your wrists to the bedframe. “need to feel you fill me up with your cock.”

he smirks at your response and positions himself at your entrance. "that's right, you'd do anything for my cock huh doll? that's because you need it. need me to fuck you," he says before thrusting forward, sheathing himself fully inside you. it’s absolutely overwhelming and breathtaking. “fuck, you’re taking me so well.”

your eyes squeeze shut as your mouth gapes open. he’s so big it definitely wakes you up. “deeper! daddy please,” you say.

he complies, gripping one of your thighs and pushing it against your body as he thrusts into you harder and deeper. you can see his eyes roll to the back of his head as he feels you swallow him entirely, releasing him only to engulf him again. “you feel so fucking good, doll.” his hand reaches up to grip your throat ever so slightly, “who do you belong to?”

“t- to you, daddy. fuck.”

he smirks at your response, feeling a sense of pride and possession. his grip tightens slightly around your throat, making it harder for you to breathe as he continues to thrust into you. “that’s right, my little slut. you belong to me.”

you swallow back as you nod. “everything about me is yours. i’m your property daddy,” you moan out.

his words send a rush of adrenaline through him, causing him to fuck you even harder. he chokes you lightly, his other hand reaching down to rub your clit in tight circles. “fuck, you’re mine. my little property, my fuck toy, my everything. you understand that, don’t you?”

you only nod, too braindead yet focused on how his cock feels inside of you that you don’t answer again. you flinch when it earns a slap on your breast as punishment. the sound of his palm connecting with your flesh only serves to heighten his arousal. he slaps your other breast, watching as they jiggle from the impact.

“answer me doll. do you understand that you’re mine?” he demands, his voice rough with desire. he takes one of your breasts into his hand to squeeze it roughly.

“i’m yours, please,” you groan, feeling your stomach twist in pleasure as you feel your high coming again. “can i cum? can i cum please?”

“not yet doll,” he growls, his hips continuing to thrust into you with punishing intensity. his fingers continue to circle your clit, building the pleasure higher and higher. “you don’t get to cum until i tell you that you can.”

“please daddy,” you whisper, trying to hold it as best as you can. you squeeze extra around his cock, tugging at your handcuffed wrists that you can just feel the bruises forming already.

“shit, just like that,” he groans, his eyes rolling back in his head as he feels you squeezing around him. he leans down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking it roughly before biting down on it. “you’re so fucking perfect f’me, baby. everything about you. it’s like you were- made f’me.”

you cry out as you feel it coming, and your legs begin to shiver underneath him as he continues to pound your pussy til you break. “i’m gonna-”

he cuts you off by muffling your mouth with his hand, his fingers pressing against your lips as he continues to thrust into you. he keeps you quiet as he feels your pussy clamp down on his cock. he just needs you for a few seconds before he,

“fuck! that’s it doll, milk my cock with your pretty pussy.” he removes his hand from your mouth, letting out a feral growl as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. he finally lets out a loud groan, his cock pulsing inside of you before he pulls out of you quickly, cumming right on your stomach.

you watch in awe as he comes undone before you. you’re out of breath, deprived of not just air but his cum. you lick your lips at the sight of his cock splurting out strings and strings of warm cum. you would catch any in your mouth if you can, but you just sit here, smiling softly at him.

he looks down at you, panting heavily as he watches his cum drip from on top of your stomach. he carefully maneuvers over to damn near sit on your chest, bringing his cock up to your lips. “open up doll. you’re going to clean up my mess.”

you take his cock into your mouth as soon as he says to, and you look up at him through your lashes. you can see him very briefly checking his phone on the nightstand to make sure if it’s still recording and if it’s a good angle for the camera to capture. you close your eyes and take him deeper into your throat, humming around him. you seem to have missed his cock in your mouth at all, and now that it is, you want to clean up every last drop until he’s clean.

he lets out a content sigh, one hand finding its way to the back of your head—forcing you to take it deeper. he smirks as he watches you, his hips moving back and forth to meet your pace before he pulls away, “who do you belong to?”

you were rafe’s property. and he was yours.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Steve Harrington x F! reader, momentary mean! Steve, established relationship, lil bit of angst, PIV sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, hate sex turned make up sex WC:2.2K

A/N: Why not? Enjoy!

"So we're still fighting, huh?", Steve narrows his eyes at you from the kitchen entry way.

He's a picture of disarray — shirt misbuttoned, belt buckle in need of fastening, tie draped loosely over his shoulders and hair a wild, mussed up mess.

His unruly state came to be as a result of forgetting to set his alarm after your heated exchange last night, waking to find he was running late for work and you hadn't bothered to rouse him like you usually would have.

His sarcastic barb goes seemingly unheard though when you refuse to look up from the dishes you're scrubbing in the sink, back still turned to him even though the crumbs from your breakfast of blueberry jam on toast have long been washed clean from your plate.

It was a disagreement blown out of proportion that had caused the friction between you two. Steve had hoped sleeping it off would help to cool your tempers enough to reconcile in the morning but now that seems as likely as him making it to work on time.

Or was it?

He sighs, a clear note of irritation coming through because he should be digging through the laundry basket in search of his socks before he tries to shove his feet inside his shoes without them again in his rush, not rooted in place, eyes dark and stony but taking you in.

Of course you'd try to give him blue balls on top of it all too.

He grits his teeth as he stares at you in your too short satin robe, every inch of your legs and thighs on display as the hem hangs high, just a few inches below the swell of your ass. Practically dangling yourself in front of him.

He enters the kitchen then and though it feels risky approaching you the way that he does, he recognizes that the air's thick with a familiar kind of tension when he comes up behind you.

Quickly and none too gently, he rucks up your robe to confirm a suspicion he'd been harboring. He finds you're nude underneath the thin, silky layer when you allow him just a glimpse, swatting his hand away with a look sharper than a knife's edge when your eyes connect with his over your shoulder.

But Steve knows better than to take it seriously. There's no ire behind your glare — no unspoken threat meant to make him retreat. You're still mad, sure, he can feel the heat radiating off of you just as it's made his own skin warm but your expression softens just enough to confirm that what you really want is for him to come closer. And that's exactly what he does.

You feel the warmth of Steve's chest pressing against your back when you turn to the sink once more, his arms caging you in place, leaving you no room to escape. The water continues to run until he closes the faucet too, leaning down to whisper into your ear. "This how you want to solve it?", he asks, pulling his hand back to lift your robe again only this time you don't attempt to thwart him, letting him cup your ass and squeeze your soft skin. Hard.

The heat of last night's fight had died down to a simmer but it left you both burning in a different, much more familiar way as you answer him.

"Yeah. This is how I want to do it", you utter loud enough for him to hear you clearly though this close together, there's nothing he can miss no matter how softly you might whisper it.

The sound of his belt coming undone has you buzzing beneath your skin while you brace yourself, curling your fingers under the edge of the countertop as Steve finishes pulling out his girthy cock. But before he even attempts to get it anywhere near your entrance he holds out his palm to you, knowing that he doesn't need to ask for you to spit into it, something that feels instinctual now at this stage in your relationship as he draws it back and slicks up his cock with your saliva.

With his length coated in a warm, glossy mixture of your spit and his precum, Steve doesn't keep you waiting for long, your legs parting to help with easing the tip of his cock in.

"Does it hurt?", he asks and while it might sound like he's only concerned about you, you can hear the heat still present in his veins.

"A little", You answer with a little heat of your own, no intention of asking him to stop.

"Good. I know you can take it", he tells you, all thorns and shit eating grins.

It doesn't happen as easily as when you two take the time to engage in foreplay first, your body usually opening up to accept him once he's gotten you ready with his tongue or fingers but this time Steve manages to notch his tip by your hole and breach you once it pops inside with a little effort, the rest of him slowly sinking inch by inch into your velvet heat.

Despite the wetness that smears your inner thighs, your whole body tenses and you have to breathe through it, pain marrying pleasure while you're being stretched open, hissing under your breath when he reaches his base. He spends a few seconds all the way inside you, just feeling you wrap around him and squeeze, your walls pulsing when he decides that's as soft as he'll allow himself to be with you today.

And he proves it when he begins pulling himself out, only to grit his teeth and drive himself back in again, making you squeal instantly, getting you thoroughly acquainted with the feeling and the force of every thrust as his pelvis bounces against your ass.

Steve so rarely ever fucks you like this and you're so caught up in taking his cock that you barely notice the way he reaches up to pull the front of your robe open too, realizing what he's done when he finds your nipples and begins to pinch and tug on them, smirking when it draws a high pitched whimper out of you as your steady breathing turns to shallow pants.

But you're not some delicate flower type. You're not one to be so compliant and let him ruin you so easily. So while Steve's busy fondling your chest you're quick to even the score when you grab hold of his right hand, lifting it up to your mouth so you can sink your teeth into the soft skin between his thumb and his wrist.

The pained hiss turned groan he lets out despite himself is a small victory but a sweet one nonetheless, enough to make you smile around his throbbing hand before deciding to remove your teeth from him, making sure to scoff at him all smug as he rubs at the little red teeth marks left behind on his tan skin.

Of course he takes it as well as a throatful of glass, considering the act a challenge for more.

Steve offers you one small moment of respite, slowly pulling almost all the way out, making sure his swollen tip remains inside you while you sigh, only to make you choke on a moan when he pushes all the way inside again in a single hard thrust, punching the air out of you.

You wanted to retaliate again, maybe reach behind to sink your nails into his thigh, scraping at his skin until narrow lines or blood rise to the surface or even rip at the clothes that hang on him in his state of half undress but you're unable to follow through this time with how he's managed to rattle you.

Steve's far too pleased to feel your elbows start to shake as your arms struggle to keep you up at this point, set on making your knees wobble too just so he can gloat about it later when you find it difficult to pick yourself up off the kitchen floor and walk away once he's done with you.

Slowly, Steve withdraws again, glee lighting up his eyes when he pushes back in with the same force of that first sharp thrust and this time you fail to stop a short scream from ripping out of your throat, back arching from how well and hard he's pressing against that spot deep inside you.

"Something you wanna say, sweetheart?", he sneers and taunts, pleased when you struggle to put together a coherent sentence while trying to endure his unforgiving pace. "Spit it out before I stop being so nice."

You muster what you can and manage to whimper it out, feeling so worn out though you haven't even reached your climax yet.

"Cum inside me. Please", you tell him — beg him, fingers turning cold and numb from how hard your grasping the countertop.

He's nothing short of cocky when he hears you whine all desperate and spent, a smug sense of accomplishment washing over him when he sees the thick coating of slick and cream you've left on his cock as he watches it withdraw and disappear inside you one harsh thrust after the other.

And then you tell him the rest.

"M—miss you when you're gone. Need to —ngh. Need to feel you in me when you're not here", you manage to string the words together before letting out a sound that's somewhere between a gasp and a whine, the kind he'll think about later on his own, working himself up until he's got no choice but to pry it out of you again.

But this isn't one of those moments, no matter how much he'd liked the sounds falling from your parted, panting lips.

Steve loses his rhythm before he stills completely inside you, your words sinking in like nails piercing his skin.

This was it. The crux of last night's argument.

You missed Steve. He'd been working too hard lately and you'd grown concerned. With the stress of his job and the little sleep he'd had he'd grown defensive and you'd gotten irritated, both of you clashing when you should have been listening and working together.

When he had woken up this morning Steve had cooled down enough to know he'd been unfair to you the night before. He was usually the type to talk things out but he'd gotten swept up in how things happened to pan out today, wrapping an arm around you tenderly, the hand you'd bitten placed over your thumping heart. He nuzzles his chin onto your shoulder to get closer to you, the stubble he'd been unable to shave this morning scratching against your skin gently as he whispers into your ear with so much sincerity.

"I'm sorry— I'm so sorry."

The sound of him all earnest and ragged makes you melt in his hold because you know how much he means it — you can practically feel how much he means it as it sinks into your skin and reaches into your ribcage.

Like Steve, you would have been open to talking it out had this been a regular fight. This particular fight however had you dumping more fuel on to the fire that roared between you because it required more than just words to resolve everything. It needed more than swapped apologies for the two of you to make amends and return back to normal.

You really needed to fuck it out. All teeth and nails and sore, spent bodies.

"It's okay. I'm sorry too", you answer, a smile growing on your parted, panting lips. "Now fuck me, will you?"

It catches Steve off guard enough to make him snort, thankful that the worst of your fight is behind you now as he starts to pick up the pace again, firm but also tender with the way his lips move against your neck and his fingers brush and roll at your nipples.

"Going to make it up to you, baby. Gonna be around more. Gonna be here for you, okay?", he pants against your skin, all gravelly groans and grunts with his nails digging into the skin on your waist.

You moan out his name, using what little strength you feel you have left to push yourself back to meet his thrusts. "Steve, oh fuck... I'm so close. I need you— I fucking need you, please."

He snaps his hips against your ass again, drawing out a blissful shudder out of you. "Gonna make it all right but until then—", you feel him draw away from you a little bit then, his hands leaving your body as you realize that he's going through his pockets.

With his cock still buried inside you and throbbing, he pulls out his phone and begins dialing, his thrusts commencing again, steady and deep enough to make your whole body draw tight, your release within reach.

"Try to keep it down while I call in sick, okay? Gonna have you all to myself today. Promise I'll keep you nice and full— gonna look so beautiful when you're dripping with me..."