!! smut - minors dni; this is what 'illicit affairs' could've been (toxic relationships); posted bc of this ask; angst ^v^
simon holds you close, his touch so gentle it leaves you breathless. he presses kisses along your shoulder blades, his words muffled on your dewy skin, and you whimper, hoping he'd sound them out louder.
simon never really does, still lost in his own mapping – his hands, his lips, the slide of his chest along your back. you mewl, chest heaving at the euphoric feeling of being the centre of his blazing attention.
the first slide of his cock in your heat is given to you with the same softness. it was so tender that you almost thought of this as simon making love to you. as simon spilling the unsaid affections he carry for you in this moment.
you feel suspended in the air, floaty with the yawning of your desire.
you reach back, hoping to grasp his hands, and your breath hitches when simon willingly returns the gesture. he lets go of your hip, snaking his arms until one of his hands lays atop of yours, the other rubbing at your pebbled nipples.
you moan, a whispery thing, your head thrown back to his shoulder. simon noses your temple, kissing your cheek, and even amidst the silence – the room full of nothing but quiet rasps of air – you feel his reverence.
"so good, baby," he grunts in your ear, the gentle slaps of his thighs meeting the back of yours acting like a muted background noise. "so good to me. so beautiful."
you clench around his length, overwhelmed by the praises rolling off of his tongue. tears trickle from the corners of your eyes, the mewl lodged in the back of your throat transforming into a warbled sob.
"si-"
the whispered drawl of his name is smothered by simon's own call.
a call that isn't your name.
"erin- fuck-" simon rasps out, voice petering into a blissed out hiss. "so tight 'round me, sweetheart. missed this. missed you."
the fiery passion inside you was snuffed out instantly, leaving nothing but cold and stuttering silence to fill you up.
"simon," you say, no tremors and no languid whispers. "stop."
simon does, pulling out without question. you get off the bed, snagging the discarded pieces of your clothes from the floor and rushing to the bathroom without looking back at him.
you hear him ask you what's wrong. you hear him call out your name – something he apparently remembers, anyway – in worry but you ignore him, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you wipe yourself clean and pull your clothes back on.
he's standing by the bed, dressed in only his boxers, when you leave the bathroom. you grab your bag from the loveseat and make your way to the door, ignoring the way he follows you.
"where are y'goin, kid?"
oh. so it's 'kid' this time, huh?
"what's goin' on?" he asks again when you continue to give him silence. "at least jus' tell me if y'r alright."
you slide into your shoes and slip your coat on, feeling winded, your chest heaving as you try your best not to cry, but it is futile. simon curls his hand around your wrist, gentle and tentative, as though showing you that you still have an out.
you breathe in deeply before finally looking back at him, and you don't know what simon sees in your eyes but it makes him straighten up, worry buzzing tenfold.
"i'm not erin, si."
your voice was barely louder than a whisper, still, simon lets you go quickly as though he's been burned.
you leave him then, your nose flaring as the tears prickle the back of your eyes, wanting to be let out.
it is only when you're in the hotel elevator that you finally allow yourself to cry.
