~ONE LESS PROBLEM
tw; NSFW content, reader described as chubby, MDNI, p in v, toxicity, addiction , cursing, sex, how else can I make it obvious?
Addiction is horrible, it ruins your life, gets you hooked to something that ruins your life, gets you to need something you in reality wouldn't. And that's why he was your addiction.
It was never love with Simon Riley, no, he told you from the start he doesn't do that "love shit," because "It ain't never worth it, sweetheart."
At the start, it was good enough, just what you needed after a shitty relationship and break up, just a good old fuck with no feelings attached. Just a rebound, nothing else, you didn't want anything else, but let's be honest? The fact that people saw you leave the bar with a huge man like him, bigger than your ex, was an extreme ego boost.
You didn't want anything more of it, you weren't ready for anything more. A good hook up, and you went on your way the next day, you didn't fucking owe him anything. You thought that was it, until you got a message from an unknown number, claiming to be the bulky man you hooked up with, asking for round two.
"Never had a cunt like yours, sweetheart." He claimed. You learned he got your number from your mutual friend, Johnny, you two were.. Semi friends. Either way, getting a round two request from the sexiest man you've had in your life? You'd need to be stupid, to reject it.
So you did it again. You fell for his trap, fell into his arms and let him fuck you like your ex never could. You let him ruin you, because fuck, you had nothing to lose. You fell into the lion's den, let him get his claws on you and scratch you up the way he wanted to. He fucked you like you were nothing to him. Roughed you up, bent you into positions no one would, willing to break your back if he had to. He fucked like a madman, like he's a caveman needing his release, like he deserved this, like you were just for his use.
You loved it. Every fucking sick part of it. You didn't owe him shit, but you let him use you like you did, because that made you forget about everything. While you two were fucking, the world was nothing, it was a dark room and just moans full with pleasure.
So you became friends with benefits. It wasn't horrible, not at first. It was perfect, just what you needed to forget that tiny dicked asshole who thought it would be funny to fuck a random blonde bitch. Like he wouldn't cum 2 seconds after being inside you. It was what you needed to numb the pain, and it was what he needed to release the pain.
Until it turned into a huge problem. Going from it being nothing else but just fuck buddies, it turned into something way more toxic. You fell for him. Fuck, how couldn't you have? He was a big man, he fucked you like an animal, and out of bed, he was a gentleman. He listened like no one else did, was there when you needed. And he had a lethal face card, let's be honest.
You shoot your shot. You ask him out once and for all, where he looks at you and full blown laughs. He points out he would never do anything with anyone, that it "Ain't you sweetheart, Love's too much for me baby. I'm not husband material, sweet thing."
It wasn't enough for you. You tried and tried, to make him like you but it never fucking worked. You started losing weight, started trying things, but he got mad at you. "Don't you fucking dare change that body of yours, it's perfect."
So if it wasn't your body, was it your personality? You tried your hardest but nothing worked, the man just wouldn't budge. His rule was fuck only, nothing else, and you hated it. It turned into heated arguments, into hopes, and fuck him seriously. I mean why would he talk to you like you're a princess to only tell you he wants nothing else than sex?
So you got mad at him. And stopped hooking up with him. The first week was great, no problems there. Simon didn't seem to mind that you didn't wanna hook up with him, that you weren't around him anymore. It pissed you off. The second week you gave your back when he finally texted you saying, "You up?" At 3 AM, the usual routine. But the afterwards turned into the most horrible fight you ever had. "Simon, I want more." You had the most serious tone ever, when you told him that, and he just looked at you like you were a joke. Nothing to him. "I don't. How many times do I have to tell you, to get it through your stupid fucking head, huh? I don't love. You got a problem in your head for you to not understand?" He asked, growled at you. So you yelled back. "Fuck you, Simon. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of you." He looked at you one last time as he said, "Then let's stop this all together." It hurt, it stung. But you grabbed your clothes, your car keys and bag, and left him there for good. Your life started to turn out differently. You hung out with your friends more, and you finally had a better social life, not as shy as you used to be. Simon still lingered in your mind, but now that you left him there for good, no contact, you felt better. You have one less problem without him.
So you went out.
You met this guy. Sammy, or whatever his stupid name was. He seemed sweet enough, was a gentleman and just wanted to get to know you better. You thought to yourself, now with Simon gone, it was time for a change. For the better, hopefully.
You agreed on a date with him, and thought nothing of it at the time. If this works out in your favor, you get a boyfriend and you don't worry about wanting Simon anymore. That's what you thought. The date was fine, he bought you flowers and took you to a fancy restaurant where he mostly talked about himself. He didn't exactly ask questions about you, like he was a little uninterested, but he was very sweet and when you tried to say something he did let you speak. You went home giving him a hug and a "Thank you" for the dinner he paid for. Walking home, you put your headphones on, listening to music. The walk home was fine, until you walked into your home. Just as you shut the door behind you, a deep voice bloomed from your living room. "Welcome home, sweetheart."
You stood there, freezing up. Does he know you went out on a date? Were you supposed to tell him? And for a second a little guilt comes up your stomach, like you did something wrong by living your own life without him. But it disappears just as quickly because fuck that, what the hell is he doing in your house?!
"Simon, why the fuck are you here?" The lights turn on but it's like it's still dark, the atmosphere is. He slowly walks towards you as he speaks. "Waiting. For you." He slowly smiled at you, as he kept walking towards you. "How was your little date?" You swallowed. "None of your business. What the fuck are you doing in my house? Wh- why do you even have the damn key?!" You were frustrated. This is practically breaking in. You felt mixed emotions. You felt like you wanted to rip his head off for acting like this is his place, but it also scared you. His eyes gleamed with something much worse than just the intention of breaking in. It was an inhumane claim, staring deep into your soul, as if he was trying to engrave his own name into your head. "That's not the way you fucking talk to me, baby." His smirk dropped and he was in front of you. He breathed heavy, like a beast. He gripped your chin and not in a gentle way. "You're gonna get your pretty little fingers into your pockets, pull out your fucking phone, and text the bastard that you don't wanna see him again. Make an excuse for it for all I give a fuck. And after that, you're gonna get that sweet little ass into the bedroom, and-" "No, Simon." He let go of your chin. "No?" "No." He leaned next to your ear. Heavy breathing, silence. ... "Yes." He whispered, breathless. Snap. He gripped your chin harder in that moment, his hand finding it's way back to you, and he kissed you. He kissed you like he's never done it before, and he let go after a few seconds of your shock. His lips travelled down your neck, leaving purple marks, a reminder. Grabbing your ass with his other hand like it's his, like you belong to him. You don't. You want to believe you don't. But you let him use you, control you. He ripped your pants off like he needed to. It was rough, it was the usual, except it wasn't. There was something deep in his eyes, something you'd only see in a hungry man's eyes, a starving man's eyes. Desperation. He tore his own clothes off in a rush, like he was afraid you'd leave, disappear if he didn't. He didn't bother with getting you on the bed, the couch was good enough. Muttering, moans, as he looked at you with a need for your confirmation, like he needed it to live. Once he got your nod, he immediately slammed into you. But it was different this time. He wasn't rushing for release, he was rushing to mark you. He was rushing to make you his. Muttering words, like he needs your confirmation, "Tell me you're mine," "Promise me you're mine," "You were made for me baby, isn't that right love? Isn't tha' right.." Like he was begging for your answer each time. It felt wrong. It felt so goddamn fucking wrong, because it was different from all the other times. This time, He fucked you like he loved you. And you hated how real it felt. After he fucked you like there's no tomorrow, he sat up from the couch and grabbed his clothes, fixing himself up. He looked at your body laying there on the couch, and with that final look, he grabbed his shoes and left. After all, it was still just sex.
A/N: WHOOOOOOOOOooooooooo man i dont know what to even do with this to be really honest. I was just writing whatever i could and its a little rushed, so sorry. This is my second fiction and im SERIOUSLY trying to work my way up with my writing. This was fun writing, hope you guys have fun reading it too. Love ya'll, and I am gonna be working on part 2 on my last fiction. Have a great rest of your day<3