I know everything is shit fucked sixteen ways before lunch time, but it remains a fact that you should not trust anyone who wants you to feel like the whole world hates you all the time. That's a person trying to sell you something, swallow you whole, or bleed you dry. Especially those times when it feels like they're right.
No one wants anything good from you who wants you always feeling scared and hated. They will wear you out and leave you in the bin the second fashions change. Things are extremely high levels of fucked, but you are not hated like that. It's scary and isolating but you are not alone like that. Worst case, come and shiver like a wet dog with me, I won't say anything and we can dry out.
Ftm!soap is the kind of guy to take you to a sex shop, silently observe your reactions to each dildo he points out, then proceed to grab the one youre most nervous about for his strap.
Oh also ftm!ghost totally pierces all his straps because he'll die before he lets a strap ruin his carefully curated pierced aesthetic
something something being abducted by aliens and kept in a glass cell with a mohawked scotsman who keeps loudly telling your intergalactic captors that he's more than prepared to demonstrate how your species reproduces- for science, of course- as he starts pulling off his clothes
i know Pit stuff is safe here so....I can like..literally feel when I'm sweating? idk how concious everyone else is of how their body changes (life of chronic illness does that to you,) but for me I can..I can literally feel things like perspiration nd shit. Especially with my underarms & my lower back.
anyways I think the 141 men would be obsessed with someone like this. because having their partner just sitting around and going "eugh...I can feel myself getting all sweaty." Would probably go straight to their dicks.
sorry, weird rant over ⥠I love ur pit stuff âĄ
hiya pal! no apologies necessary, all 'pit thoughts are welcome here!
also you're damn right. theyâre all freaks over their partner getting sweaty.
something something mermaid sex where you think you're eating pussy and getting frustrated at your inability to find the clit, but surprise! it's actually just a genital slit, and without any warning whatsoever there's a clawed hand holding you in place as you choke and gag around an unexpected and entirely inhuman cock that's being shoved down your throat
listen this is gross but i fully know in my heart of hearts that soap is that guy who wipes his hand on your pillow after fingering you and doesnât give a shit when you start squawking at him for it
CW: Explicit vaginal sex, no barrier use, overstimulation, consent checks
Notes: This is officially the last chapter! Thank you so much for walking with me through this project. I've loved it and I appreciate everyone who has said a single kind word about my writing this last year and change.
This kiss is more of what youâve expected all night, passionate and a little bit sloppy. You catch his lips with yours, when he lets you, and trace the scars on his shoulders with gentle fingers. Youâre rewarded when he groans and hikes one of your legs up over his hip, rolling his body into yours and making you see stars.
Simonâs voice, when he pulls away, is pure gravel. âCân just cuddle, if thaâs what you want. But âd like to fuck you.â
âGreen,â you breathe against his cheek, chasing his lips.
He grins and lets you catch him, and his soft laughter shakes your bodies together. Like this, Simon fills all of your senses. Youâre still soft and warm from your orgasms, and itâs so easy to mold yourself around him, let his weight sink into you. He has you all over his face, and your mouth still tastes a little like him. The warm space between you smells like sex. He sounds like sex, the way he groans he uses his free hand to tilt your head where he wants it.
You gasp when he grinds against you. Everything is hot and wet, a perfect, slick slide. âOh!â
âFuck,â he growls into your mouth. He shoves his arm under your hips and hikes you into his body more firmly. âFuck, Bambi, lovie, we gotta slow down or this is gonna go fast.â
âYes,â you whimper between kisses, chasing his lips with yours. âGreen, yes, please, I want-â
And Simon, bless him, doesnât tease or make you wait. He just reaches down and lines himself up against where youâre ready for him. Still, itâs a shock when he pushes in. Heâs careful with you, but even as soft and open as you are, heâs so thick that you have to gasp. The arm you have around his back squeezes him close.
âEasy,â he grunts, breath hot against the side of your face as he takes your hand in his. âSlow and easy - fuck.â
The noise that comes out of you when he sinks into you - a moan, a yelp, a giggle, all rolled into one - is loud. If you cared, youâd be worried about a noise complaint. As it is, your hips jump up against his, startling a smaller sound out of your lungs as he slides even deeper. Everything in you is focused on how he feels on you - in you. Heâs overwhelming, and hasnât even sunk all the way inside yet.
âSimon,â you whisper into the side of his throat. He groans again, letting go of your hand to take a tight hold of your hip. âSi-Simon, please move.â
âGive me one bloody minute,â he chuckles into your temple. âSettle, Bambi, fuck. Donât got another one in me after this.â
That startles a laugh out of you, making him grab at you again with a warning noise. You try to contain your giggles as you coax yourself to relax, try to set your hips like you had during your stretches. He moves with you, and you both gasp as he slides out of you, just a touch.
âTestinâ my limits,â Simon growls. His hands feel like brands where heâs holding you steady. ââS harder to keep myself locked down when youâre actually here.â
âYeah,â you agree, kissing his shoulder. âGreen.â When he makes an amused sound, you grin. âGreen, Simon, you can move. Please, I want it.â
âI know,â he rumbles back. He shifts his hips again and sucks a sharp breath. âFuck, I know, Bambi, youâre doinâ so good, askinâ so nice. But I want this to be good for you. Want to make it last, huh? Might be the only time, w-want you to enjoy it.â
âThen you should fuck me,â you point out.
His laugh is pained. âWant to.â
âColor?â
He huffs again. âGree- fuck!â
You rock your hips up at the same time that you tighten your leg aground his hips. Neither of you seem to be ready for how deep he goes, the way you both jerk involuntarily into each other. The sensation of him grinding into your clit from inside and out startles a yelp from you. But thatâs nothing compared to his first real thrust. You only have a split second to feel the strength in his suddenly tense muscles before he pulls away and shoves into you.
The breath is knocked from your lungs in a strangled squeak. Thereâs no time to get it back before heâs folding you up and slamming into you again. Again. Again. You have to clench your jaw to keep your teeth from rattling together, canât stop the way you try to squirm away from the pleasure-pain of the stretch. The arm he still has under your back moves, shifting until he can hook a hand over your shoulder.
âWhereâre yâgoinâ, pretty girl?â Simon grunts into your cheek. âThought you wanâed me tâstretch you out, wanted me tâfuck you. You like it?â
âYes,â you squeal, breath almost gone, a shiver zipping down your spine just to shoot right back up as he grinds deep. âYes, yes, please, yes, green, please-â
âPlease what, pretty girl? More?â
âYes, yes, yes-â
âCân âave it,â he grunts, and somehow his thrusts get rougher. âCân âave whatever you want when you ask nice, ainât that right?â
âSimon!â
âFuck, you sound so good.â
âSi-imon,â you gasp again. Itâs hard to grab at him, youâre so overwhelmed, and both of you are slick with sweat. All you can do is slip against him, bringing both of your legs up to wrap around his middle, just to slide right back down again as he somehow forces himself further into you.
It takes a long time to realize that heâs still talking, that heâs grunting and growling praise and encouragement as he crushes you with pleasure. Thereâs no way for you to respond, if you could even understand the words in the first place, but he doesnât seem to care. Every noise you make, every time you squirm, he coos at you as he forces you back into position.
The orgasm doesnât creep up on you. It builds at the edge of your awareness with an intensity that is almost terrifying. Itâs not just the way he makes room for himself inside of you. Itâs the heat and intensity of his hands on you. Itâs the sounds of his pleasure, the rough gravel of his voice, the slap of his skin against yours, the creaking of the bed beneath you. The way your entire world moves with him. Itâs the burning in your legs, your arms, your lungs. Everything inches you closer to the precipice, no matter how you instinctively try to escape it.
âThatâs it,â Simon pants into your skin as you claw at his shoulders. Heâs so deep it almost hurts and hikes your leg up to keep you where he wants you. âFuck, Bambi, thatâs it, pretty girl. Donât fight it. Donât keep it from me, câmon.â
You shake your head, uselessly. His body and yours put pressure on your clit just right, sweet agony that you have to struggle against. When you shift away, try to bring your body back to something you can hold in place, youâre drawn farther out of control.
You have to blink tears away as you stutter out, âI-Iâm gon-na-!â
âYou are,â Simon agrees, commands. âYou are. Give it to me.â
Thereâs no time to brace yourself. The climax starts as a shiver through your legs, then tears through you so forcefully that all you can do is sob. No matter how much you try to shut yourself away, Simon holds you open to it. Whatever sound he makes as your whole body locks up on and around him is drowned out by the low moan that forces its way from your lips. And then youâre sobbing again as the pleasure crests a second time.
His breath hisses from between his teeth. Your legs lock with his before youâre even aware that his hips had started stuttering away from yours. And then heâs shoving one of your thighs up and out so he can stuff himself back into your spasming heat as he comes. Itâs all consuming, like everything else about him, the way you can feel him twitching and jerking inside of you. All you can do is shake through another wave when he lifts his head to look into your eyes. The way he glares at you makes you surge up for a kiss, too frantic for much more than pressing your open mouth to his as you moan.
Slowly, you both make it something softer, more deliberate. You realize how quiet he is only when a groan shivers its way out of him. Heâs panting. You both are. When you let your head drop back to the pillow, itâs hard to make your eyes focus enough to meet his again.
You giggle. âOkay. Now we can cuddle.â
His laugh is more of a wheeze. âCân maybe do that.â
It takes a few moments before you can find your limbs, and even more before you can make them move. The feeling of him dragging his way out of you makes you whine, and Simon makes a wounded noise into your hair. Heâs gentle as he guides your legs back down, rubs slow circles with his thumbs over your thighs before he collapses to one side with a satisfied grunt.
âThis was nice,â you say into the dark.
Youâre cuddled up, now, for real, after letting him wipe you down with a warm cloth. Now, you ache, but in a good way. Your legs and hips and back feel like youâve had one of the best workouts of your life. Youâre definitely going to have to take it easy tomorrow, but itâs worth it.
Simon, lying on his back with one arm holding you, hums. ââS proâlly the best op âve ever been on. Top three, for sure.â
âOh my god,â you slap at his chest and giggle.
âTell me your conferences are usually more interestinâ,â he chuckles. âBet youâve never had a better end to the event. Tell me âm wrong.â
âI was held hostage!â
âAnâ we still managed to turn the night around.â
âYeah,â you sigh. Youâre both quiet for a little while, but youâre too relaxed for the silence to be anything other than comfortable. Still, you canât resist the urge to ask, âWhat happens now? Or... tomorrow, I guess.â
âTomorrow... weâve probably got a lot of shite to straighten out.â He takes your hand in his and squeezes your fingers. âDebrief fâme, a couple of interviews fâyou. Cân ask the captain to extend my stay until your flight âome, if you donât mind sharinâ a room wiâme for the next few days.â
âOf course.â You smile up at him. âThat sounds... really nice, actually. ...But when I leave... things will be different. Between us, I mean.â
âThaâs true.â
Maybe your body is still coasting on orgasms, but his unbothered response has you melting against his chest again. âMaybe we can meet up again. Without the terrorism.â
ââM sure I cân find another way to keep things excitinâ.â
âI could come see you in England,â you speculate aloud, interrupted by a jaw cracking yawn. âOr you could come to me. Or... I guess we could meet anywhere...!â
ââD like that a lot,â he rumbles.
You want to make fun of him for falling asleep on you, but your eyes are closing without your permission. Simon shifts, just a little, to get comfortable, the hand he has on your hip petting you as you resettle. The hand holding yours brings your fingers up to his lips for a kiss. Youâre asleep by the time your hands are placed back over his heart.
Ghost fucks you from behind, grabs a handful of hair as a handle, and yoinks off your wig. He's not flabbergasted - he knows what a wig is. He's just... a bit startled. Needs a second to recalibrate. Resumes fucking you when you start cussing him out.
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