đŐ Üž.ËŹ.ÜžŐ𩯠summary: in your last relationship aftercare wasnât even a concept, but with Simon Riley itâs so much more than that.
đđźđđĄđšđ«đŹ đ§đšđđ: just Simon giving you aftercare for the first time because what the hell I have free will ALSO 18+ puhlease!! Mdni Iâll boot kick you out.
đ đđ§đ«đ: fluff so rotten your teeth will fall out.
Pairings: bf!Simon x gf!Reader
The next best thing to sex with Simon Riley was the aftercare - you thought as your gaze followed him into the bathroom, his frame disappearing behind the doorframe. You were sore, heart hammering and skin slick with sweat as you basked in the aftermath of it all, but a soft smile stretched across your lips.
You felt like you were positively glowing.
It shocked you the first time you both had sex. Not that you expected him to discard you with his back turned. But considering your past relationship, the lack of love after making it was normal for you.
Didnât make it suck any less though.
So when it came to Simon. A man who practically intimidated every neighbour of yours within a block, muscle and tattoo ridden and who killed for a living - aftercare seemed ⊠overly emotionally strenuous for him. Like it would make things too real? You thought.
But when it came and he held you as though you could crack like strained glass, gently wiping your skin with a lukewarm towel, you couldnât hide how enamoured you felt.
How did so much care and love come from the same hands that drew blood.
âWhatâs thaâ look for?â Simon pointed bluntly as he butterflied your hips open to clean your core ânothing just-â you swallowed thickly, blinking âdidnât expect all thisâ you breathe. Simonâs brows furrowed in confusion, gaze still tethered to wiping you clean âChrist dove, what kind of men have you been havinâ sex withâ his abrasive tone made you huff a laugh âshitty onesâ you retorted.
âFuckinâ clearlyâ he said, guiding the rough towel over your stomach.
Seconds passed and you were still unable to wipe the adoration off your face, something Simon noticed with a huff of a laugh âya lookinâ at me like Iâve just bought you a fuckinâ puppyâ mirth dripped off of his tone.
You gently pushed him âshut upâ
âWhat kinda man do yaâ take me forâ Simon questioned while he moved to soothe the inside of your thighs. You let his words hang in the air before you responded ânot a shitty oneâ he hummed in amusement, his belief of your words wavered thin.
Simon tended to the hickeys and bruises, apologising gruffly for getting carried away. To which you said that you didnât mind âGoodâ he said, throwing the towel into the dirty clothes basket before lying down next to you âCâmereâ he graveled, arms outstretched.
You complied, draping your arm across his scarred chest. A new found sense of relief flooded through you at the feeling of being so tenderly cared for. Simon heaved a sigh, coiling his arm around your waist to pull you closer âMâfuckinâ girlâ he murmured before kissing the crown of your head.
contains smut (mdni), angst, annoyance! we love! i suck at making headers bear with me!!
on your one day off, your shower breaksâand the repairman you call turns out to be your childhood crush, jeon jungkook.
wc: 3.4k
the water goes ice-cold mid-rinse.
you gasp, jerking back like the shower just personally betrayed you, shampoo still burning your scalp, skin slick with vanilla-scented soap. for a second, you just stand there, blinking at the tiles, waiting for the heat to come back like it always does.
but it doesnât.
instead, the pipes roar like a car engine, and very much not your problem to solveâexcept, apparently, right now, it is.
you twist the faucet left, right, all the way to red, then all the way to blue. like maybe sheer aggression could bring heat back into existence.
spoiler alert: it doesnât.
âfuck me,â you mutter under your breath, dripping onto the bath mat as cold air hits your skin like a betrayal from the universe.
you wrap yourself in the soft pink towel, shivering, hair clinging to your neck like wet spaghetti. the shower glares at you, silent and smug, like itâs judging every life choice youâve ever made.
barefoot, water pooling under your feet, you flop onto the edge of your couch. today was supposed to be your day off. working with finance bros five days a week, dressed in stiff suits and pretending to care about quarterly projections, was enough to make anyone want to scream. so you decided to take a week off. obviously, the universe did not get the same memo as you.
you stare at the ceiling, hair dripping like a sad, vanilla-scented fountain, thinking about your shower. it was supposed to be your sanctuary. a place to feel slightly human between board meetings, investor calls, and polite small talk about charity galas your family funded. instead, itâs a betrayal machine, hissing, roaring, and apparently auditioning for formula 1. congratulations, universe, you win.
you tug a soft graphic-tee over your damp hair, muttering a string of curses under your breath as it sticks to your neck. sweatpants are next, stubbornly refusing to slide past your soaked thighs without a battle. you decide to give up on matching socks. today, apparently, is a no-coordination kind of day.
your apartment, your sleek, spotless, high-rise sanctuary in gangnam, is supposed to reflect the fact that you come from old money, where floors gleam, art is worth more than what most people make in a decade, and everything runs perfectly. and yet here you are, toes wet, no warm water in out bathroom, hair damp and clinging, towels laying on your couch in rebellion, living proof that luxury canât save you from chaos.
you tug your shirt higher on your shoulders and reach for your phone. typing in 'plumbing repairs near me', then you see 'jeon home repairs.' five stars. fast. polite. doesnât overcharge. "at least someone in this city can be competent" you mutter to yourself
you tap the number, rehearsing how to explain that your shower now sounds like a race car while simultaneously flooding your apartment.
ring. ring.
âjeon repairs?â a calm, steady voice answers. thereâs a hint of roughness, like someone who fixes plumbing and maybe breaks hearts on the side.
you freeze. a slight hint of recognition in your mind, 'you've heard his before' you think
âuh⊠hi. yeah. hi,â you blurt, immediately hating how it sounds. âmy shower⊠um⊠it stopped working. completely. and now itâs cold. and⊠makes this, uh, roaring-car-engine noise.â
thereâs a pause.
âalright,â he says, calm, patient. amused even. âi can come take a look. when works for you?â
âuh⊠like⊠now?â you stammer, trying to sound casual but imagining the puddles in the bathroom, towels, and the hair disaster heâs about to witness.
âokay. can you give me your address?â
your fingers fumble over the keypad. ây-yeah⊠iâm in the gangnam high-rise apartments⊠flat 1204.â
thereâs another pause, then âgot it. iâll be there as soon as i can.â
thirty minutes later, your bathroom looks like it survived a war, and a stranger is about to walk straight into it.
a knock at the door. you curl your head into you hands, muttering, okay, just breathe. youâre fine. nothing here is going to kill you⊠except maybe your dignity.
you open the door. and then your brain just short-circuits.
heâs standing there: young, long dark hair falling just right, casual but confident like he owns the world, or at least this building.
and then it hits you. like a punch to the gut.
oh no. no no no.
that's jungkook. the guy that had the entire high school crushing over him. the one who somehow made algebra slightly more bearable. the guy I probably spent more nights wet-dreaming about rather than getting a goodnights rest or maybe studying?.
your mouth opens, closes, opens again. probably looks like a goldfish flopping onto dry land.
âare you just gonna stare⊠or are you gonna let me in?â he asks, voice teasing, calm, almost smug.
âuh⊠yeah. come in,â you squeak, stepping aside, internally screaming that your awkward, chaotic, self is about to be seen by the person who once had your sixteen-year-old heart.
he steps in, surveying your apartment like itâs normal to encounter a apartment that looks right out of vogue. sleek floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, modern furniture, however the bathroom is a different story, now partially submerged with mini puddles pooling on the marble floors.
he crouches by the faucet, glancing at you. âso, whats the issue with this beauty?â
âmy shower decided to audition for formula 1 today,â you groan, âand my bathroom looks like a water park exploded.â
he smirks faintly, eyes flickering over the chaosâand then your face. something flashes in his expression. amusement, recognition, disbelief? maybe all three.
âwe went to the same high school right?â he mutters, voice softer now, like heâs thinking out loud. âyouâre y/n, right?â
and your heart skips a beat. he remembers me. he knows me. we cheer out loud!
you choke on your words. âuh⊠yeah. iâm⊠i meanââ
he tilts his head, smirk widening. ây/n. of course. wow. itâs⊠been a while.â he says
if only he knew how bad you wanted him, or how its been oh so long since you've been touched. if you're counting (you are) its been 5 and a half months, since you even remotely showed interest in a man, and even that ended poorly, sobbing into a tub of ice-cream, and binge watching shows for 2 weeks thats what happened for the story cut short.
safe to say its been a while since you've been laid.
you try not to hyperventilate, toes curling as a act to calm yourself. heâs here. in my apartment. seeing me like this. and somehow, it doesnât feel fair that he still looks⊠so fucking good.
he shakes his head lightly, crouched by the faucet again addressing the matter at hand. âso, when the shower sprung cold water on you what did you do?â
âI tried turning the knobs like fifty times to the warm side, then the cold side, kind of aggressively you could say? in hopes that the warm water would come back.. but judging by the fact you're here that did not happen,â you ramble, voice lower higher than intended, laced with the irritation of your day off being spoiled.
he chuckles softly. âstill stubborn, huh⊠some things never change,â he says, eyes flicking to yours, a hint of amusement dancing in his tone.
you feel your cheeks heat up. âstubborn? i prefer⊠determined.â
âdetermined, huh?â he teases, leaning slightly closer, smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. âiâve always liked that about you.â
he starts fiddling around with his tools, and you start zoning out thinking about what you were gonna have for dinner probably just gonna order takeout, maybe a burger? or a pizza.
then rather abruptly, he stands, wiping his hands on his jeans. âdone. try it.â
you twist the knob. warm water gushes out, steady and normal. you blink. âit⊠works.â
he nods once, calm, collected. âtold you.â
the silence stretches. your eyes meet. your chest tightensânot from the shower this time.
âthanks⊠for coming so fast,â you manage to say, voice catching.
he shrugs, calm, like itâs nothing. âhey⊠kind of my job to rescue people from plumbing disasters.â his eyes flick up to yours, just a little teasing. âthough i canât say i expected to be doing it in⊠such dramatic circumstances.â
âso⊠what have you been up to? i mean, what field of work are you in?â
jungkook leans against your doorframe, arms crossed casually, eyes studying you like he remembers more than youâre letting on. âwell⊠uh, iâm in finance. i deal with douchebags five days a week, nine to five. so you could sayâŠâ you pause, smirking despite yourself, ââŠiâve become really good at rolling my eyes professionally.â you chuckle out
he chuckles, the kind of low laugh that makes your chest tighten. âsounds exhausting. and here i thought your high school self complaining about math homework was dramatic.â
you scoff, tugging your shirt higher around yourself. âoh, high school me had no idea. now, multiply the drama by ten and sprinkle in people who think their attractive, wanting you to worship their every move.â
âhuh,â he says, tilting his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. âand here i thought being rich and obnoxious was a full-time job.â
your eyes wander to his buff chest, down to his arms that are quite literally encased with tattoos. designs snaking down his skin, and it takes all your might not to reach out and touch them. now youâre thinking about his hands doing something else to you... his veiny hands. and those long, long, long fingers..
âyou have a lot of tattoos,â you manage to blurt out ripping your mind out of a trance like state.
he glances down at his arm, then back at you, eyebrow raised. âyeah, you like them?â his voice low, teasing, like heâs daring you to admit
your cheeks burn, heat crawling up your neck. you laugh softly, a little breathless. âi think thatâs obvious,â you admit. âiâve been trying not to stare for the past five minutes.â
his smile faltersânot disappearing, just softening. âyeah?â he asks quietly.
âyeah.â you swallow, meeting his eyes. âi always thought you knew.â
he exhales, a short huff of disbelief. âfunny. i spent years thinking you barely noticed me.â
you blink. âwhat? jungkook, everyone noticed you.â
ânot like this,â he says, stepping closer. his hand lifts, hesitates, then brushes your jaw like heâs asking permission without words. his forehead rests against yours, warm, grounding. âiâve been into you since high school. tenth grade.â his voice is low now, stripped of teasing. âi told myself iâd get over it. go to college. move on. didnât work.â
your heart stutters. âi had the biggest crush on you,â you confess, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. âit was embarrassing. i thought you were untouchable.â
he lets out a quiet laugh, disbelieving. âme?â
âyou,â you nod. âand apparently⊠i never really got over it either.â
thereâs a beat of silence. his thumb brushes lightly against your skin.
âso,â he murmurs, eyes flicking to your lips and back, âguess that makes this⊠mutual?â
you smile, small but certain. âyeah,â you whisper. âit does.â
"canâ"
âyes,â you say, desperate as if he doesnât kiss you in the next five seconds, you might spontaneously combust and die, before his lips press against yours. the cool touch of his lip ring contrasts with the heat building between your legs.
his lips feel soft and plush against yours a soft moan getting caught in your throat. parting your lips, his tongue sweeps in dominant and demanding. his strong bulky hand snake around your body, rough and commanding. cupping your ass causing more heat to pool between your thighs aching for his touch
and when you pull away to catch your breath your heart feels like its about to fucking escape out of your chestâ his lips pink and swollen and yours probably are too, but that doesn't stop him from kissing you again, lips trailing down your neck, causing you to moan out and tug on his hair. he was sucking roughly painting your skin in vibrant hues of blues and purples, finding sensitive spots that you didn't even know you had, hand coming up to roughly squeeze your neck before asking "where's the bedroom?" he says voice low, pupils blown with need "third door on the right" you scramble outâgod you were acting like a horny teenager.
your brain is hazy with need and him pressing open mouth kisses against your jawline wasn't helping, then suddenly he's laying you down on your plush bedding with your hair fanning around you like a halo, "fucking hell,â he moans out against your neck, and then his hands are on you again taking your graphic tee off, throwing it somewhere on his left "your so perfect" he mutters against your skin causing a swarm of butterflies to kick up in your stomach aching for contact.
"jungkook.. please touch me before I lose my mind.â you beg, hand reaching for his shirt which he quickly discarded "patience pretty girl" you reach out groaning at the sight of his abs, they were so well defined glistening with sweat. he had your stomach turning into knots just at the mere sight of him.
he placed open mouth kisses from your chest down to your lower stomach stopping right where you wanted him. he tapped your hips and you happily obliged lifting them while he discarded your sweats and panties in one swift motion, he had you gasping as the cold air hit your core
youâre so so desperate right now. gripping onto his wrist as he rubs slow deliberate circles around your clit, "fuck." you moan out, you were bucking your hips onto his hands harshly. âneedy, arenât we?â he mumbles.Â
"fuckin' vixen" he mutters âwhat do you want, princess? hm?â he asks staring right into your eyes never breaking eye contact, you can't even bring yourself to answer he's got you in such a hazy like state, unable to answer. he asks again "i asked you a question baby" voice deep and dripping with need
âI want- i want your fingers,â you whisper barely audible. âwant you to fuck me with them.â you mewl out. he rips his fingers away from your clit, teasing your entrance with his fingers dripping with slick "your soaked baby, all for me? hm?" voice dripping with venom "all for you," you meekly reply before slipping his finger in entirely filling you up, he could feel you clench around him, and that had him whispering sweet words into your ear like 'good girl' and 'taking it so well baby'.
"harder." you moan out he added another finger before thrusting faster desperate to just get you off "i'm close." you moan out strings of curse words leaving your mouth as your orgasm hit you like a truck; blinding white seeing stars. he muttered out a string of 'good girls' before capturing your lips in a rough kiss, he rid himself of his pants throwing them away to some cornerâyou really could care less âholy fuck, youâre so fucking wet baby. I canât wait to be inside you." he says
heâs oh so dominating and commanding and it makes your pussy clench around fucking nothing. the sight of his big red angry cock had you salivating desperate to please him
âfuck me pleaseâ you half moan half beg out desperate and needy, before you can even say what you wanted to say, his hips slam against yours, your fingers digging into his shoulders, nails leaving behind angry red half-moons. "look at me when I fuck you" he moans out. he lets out a thick groan and moves even faster, fucking into you with a bullying tempo. Pain shoots through your scalp, and you realise that heâs fisted a hand in your hair, tugging backwards, a knot forming in your stomach. "good girl, taking it s'well" he says moaning pleasure builds hot and fast in your lower stomachâbefore you can even tell him your close you manage to moan a string of 'yes' before your second orgasm hits. this one had you clawing at whatever you could reach, his chest? his shoulder? both covered in angry red painful half moons.
jungkook was mewling at the sight of you arching your back, desperately chasing his own high âused to cum so hard thinking about you, baby." he says, admitting it so causally as if it wasn't so fucking vulgar. "I'm s'close where'd you want it baby?" you wrap your legs around him instinctively, you want him to cum inside you, "yes baby, yes baby" you moan out, with that he finished grunting and plopping down beside you.
"your fucking insane" he mumbles before capturing lips in a hungry kiss. 'well that just happened' you think to yourself.
the room is quiet now, the kind of quiet that feels earned.
he rolls onto his side, breath still uneven, and without a word, pulls you into him. not rushed. not needy. just⊠there. his arm wraps around your shoulders, tucking you close until your cheek rests against his chest, right over his heart.
itâs still pounding.
you let out a slow breath you didnât realize you were holding, fingers curling into his skin. 'heâs so warm' you think to yourself.
âhey,â he murmurs, voice gentle.
you hum in response, too comfortable to lift your head.
his hand moves in slow strokes along your back, thumb tracing absent-minded circles like heâs memorizing you. like heâs afraid if he stops touching you, the moment might disappear.
âyou okay?â he asks quietly.
you nod against him. âyeah. more than okay.â
he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, lingering there. no teasing. no bravado. just warmth. âgood.â
you shift closer, legs tangling with his, fitting together like this is something youâve done a hundred times before. your fingers trace idle patterns over his ribs, feeling him relax beneath your touch.
genre/warnings: enemies to lovers, sfw, martinez is a made up char for the plot :^
summary: You hated working with Detective Gavin Reed. He was rude, arrogant, and pushed every one of your buttonsâbut for some reason, you couldn't stop thinking about him. One late night at the DPD, a teasing conversation turns into something neither of you expected.
It was almost midnight at the Detroit Police Department, and the place had thinned out to a skeleton crew. The only sounds were the buzz of fluorescent lights and the occasional clack of keyboards. You leaned against the vending machine in the break room, sipping on bad coffee that tasted more like regret.
Martinez, one of the other detectives on night duty, stood beside you, eyeing you with that grin that meant trouble.
âSo,â she started, voice hushed but playful, âthe way you and Reed go at it? I swear, it looks like you two tear each otherâs clothes off after shift.â
You snorted. âGross. No.â
âIâm serious!â she laughed. âAll that arguing, the tension? You two have the kind of hate sex energy that melts walls. You sure thereâs not a little unresolved tension there?â
âThe only tension is me not punching him in the face.
âUh-huh.â Martinez sipped her drink. âBet heâs good with his hands though.â
You gave her a warning look, but your ears were burning.
âYouâre insane,â you muttered.
âYou didnât say no fast enough.â
âMartinezââ
âDonât stop on my account,â came a voice from the doorway.
You froze. Slowly, you turned. Gavin Reed leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his usual smirk firmly in place.
âDidnât mean to interrupt your girl talk,â he said. âBut, heyâgood to know Iâm living rent-free in your head.â
Martinez laughed and made a quick exit, clearly proud of herself.
You stayed behind, heart pounding with embarrassment and irritation.
Back at your desk, the silence between you two was sharp. You focused hard on your files, pretending you couldnât feel him looking at you.
âYou know,â he said after a while, his voice lazy, âyou didnât exactly deny it with much conviction.â
âDeny what?â you asked flatly.
âThat youâve thought about it.â
You looked up slowly. âDo you want me to tase you?â
He grinned. âKinky.â
âYouâre insufferable.â
âAnd yet, here we are. Alone. Again.â
You rolled your eyes and went back to reading. A few moments passed.
âYou doing anything tomorrow night?â he asked casually.
That made you pause. âWhy?â
âThought maybe we could get a drink. Talk. Argue somewhere with better lighting.â
You blinked. âAre you serious?â
âDeadly.â He leaned in a little. âI asked because I want to. Not because I want to mess with you.â
You stared at him for a long second. âFine. But if it sucks, Iâm writing you up.â
The bar he picked was tucked away on a quiet street. Low lights, soft music, and a few scattered booths. You slid into the one he was already sitting in.
âYouâre not late,â he said.
âYou sound disappointed.â
âNah.â He took a sip of his beer. âI kind of wanted to see what you looked like when you werenât glaring at me under fluorescent lights.â
You raised an eyebrow. âFlatter me again, and I might throw my drink at you.â
âNoted.â
They ordered. The food was forgettable. The banter wasnât.
âYou always been this much of a pain in the ass?â you asked.
âPretty much. My mom says it builds character.â
You actually laughed, a quiet, surprised sound. âYou have a mom?â
âBelieve it or not.â He looked at you for a second, eyes more serious now. âWhat about you? Always been the type to pick fights in the bullpen?â
âOnly with guys who deserve it.â
âLucky me.â
There was a pause. The kind that felt like something unsaid hung just between you two.
âLook,â Gavin said, voice lower, âI know Iâm a lot. I give people crap. Itâs easier that way.
You tilted your head. âYou trying to explain yourself to me now?â
âYeah. Maybe. Just⊠I donât hate you, okay? I mightâve acted like it. But I donât. I like that you fight back. I like that youâre not scared of me.â
You looked at him carefully, surprised by the sudden honesty.
âYouâre not so scary, Reed,â you said softly.
He smiled, just a little. âGood. Thatâd make this date a real HR nightmare.â
Later, you walked back toward your cars, the chill air sobering after the heat of the bar.
âSoâŠâ Gavin started, stuffing his hands in his pockets. âDid I ruin it?â
You shook your head. âNot entirely.â
âDamn. I was going for charming.â
âDebatable,â you smirked.
You stood there, the city buzzing around you. You stepped a little closer.
âYou kiss me right now, Reed, and Iâll break your nose,â you warned.
âNoted,â he said, grinning.
You didnât kiss. But you didnât walk away either.
Just stood there a little too long.
Something had changed.
And both of you knew it.
The next morning, the DPD was its usual chaotic self. You were already at your desk, coffee in hand, eyes bleary.
âSo,â Martinez slid up beside you, eyes glittering, âhow was the date?"
You didnât look at her. âIt was fine.â
âFine? Thatâs all I get? Come on, did he show up in that stupid jacket? Did he say anything dumb? Did he make you laugh?â
You bit back a smirk. âYes, yes, and maybe.â
Before Martinez could say more, Gavin dropped a file on your desk without a word. As he walked away, he shot you a subtle wink.
Martinezâs jaw dropped. âHe winked. Thatâs basically marriage in his language.â
You just sipped your coffee. âShut up, Martinez.â
But you didnât stop smiling.
@drxcorelibre - do not steal, plagiarise, or repost my posts on any other social media. This is my only account.