Tell Me A Truth and a Lie | Simon / John Q (Dinner in America)
โ - simon x afab! reader
โ - cw: intercrural, p in v, afab!reader, cunnilingus, blowjob, breakup, hurt/comfort, overstimulation โจ
โ - credits: dividers by @pixopix
โ - summary: reader is picking up the pieces of their failing relationship. simon closely watches and gives them what they've always wanted.
Simon walks over from his room, into the living room. You hadn't even realized he was home. He saunters over, stops by the end of the couch and fiddles with the lighter that was wedged between the cushions. Absentmindedly flicking again and again. Scrape, scrape, scrape.
"Wanna watch Army of Darkness and veg out on the couch tonight?"
He looks up at you. Scrape. He looks like a child. Eager and docile. These occurrences are so rare you feel hesitant to reveal you already have plans for the night. Plans that you don't feel entirely thrilled to have.
"Shit, Simon. I can't tonight. I'm going out soon."
Scrape. The child is gone. His face falls into a scoff.
"Boo. What the hell could be more important than a night in with me?" He smirks.
You hate when he does that.
There was a time in which you were, heaven to Betsy, crazy about Simon. Though that time has bled into every present moment with him, there are walls between you that he's carefully constructed. Safe to say, he didn't share the same infatuation. At least that's what he's led you to believe.
To you, he had feigned innocence and care. Told you that you deserved better than him. That he could never be the kind of guy that could give you what you wanted. What you needed.
He meant it, truly believing himself to be unworthy of someone like you. But how could you possibly know that?
You often wondered if it would hurt more or less to hear that he simply just wasn't attracted to you in any capacity.
You shake your head in annoyance, a visage of playfulness covering the genuine irritation and melancholy. It was cruel. Sometimes it was like he was dangling your infatuation with him above your head. Taunting you with his sweet eyes and teasing charm.
Would he even think enough about you to play with you like that? You think not.
It certainly didn't make matters any easier that the outing you were getting ready for was to meet up with your boyfriend. Or that you couldn't seem to make this relationship work (through no fault of your own) despite numerous efforts. Or that Simon has witnessed the beginning and present of this relationship develop and morph with little reaction.
"I'm meeting up with Pete."
"Haven't seen that guy in a bit," he states with a shrug, "thought maybe you two were done."
"He has something special planned." You defend, trying to slip some enthusiasm in there somewhere. If you were asked which you's rather be doing tonight - slouching on a couch with Simon, or a 'special' night out with Pete - you were certain your answer would be immediate. You itched imagining yourself with Pete.
"Somethin' special, huh?" He can't help but chuckle under his breath. Save for the very first time you'd brought this guy home, he had never seen you so completely down in the dumps for so long before. It was really pissing him off. Not at you of course, and that was the problem. You were an angel in every sense of the word, just damn sweet to the core and great to be around. He couldn't imagine anyone treating you with anything but care. And yet this fucking random guy swoops you up just to make you feel like shit every other week. Shit made his skin crawl. And he thought he would be a shitty boyfriend.
"Well... another time then?" He offers a smirk, then tosses the lighter he'd been fiddling with on the couch. It lands on the cushion next to you.
"Yeah, catch you later." You sigh, letting out a longer breath than you had intended.
As much as you loved him, and mostly because you did, speaking to Simon was the last thing you wanted to do right now. You scrambled around the apartment, absentmindedly 'getting ready' while lost in thought. You needed to fix this relationship. Needed to show Simon that you could be happy with just being friends. To prove to yourself that you were worthy of a loving relationship.
You were completely unaware of Simon's lingering in the living room to observe you. Seeing you this way is painful. He wishes he could make things better. Overwhelmed by the thought of sitting you down, hands on your shoulders to ground you, and coax your anxious mind with stupid jokes and sweet snacks until you were soft and tender again. That was his favorite.
Those nights you were both perched on the couch with a family sized bag of chips, knees rested against the others, and heavy eyelids. When it felt like just the two of you existed in the world.
He watched you put your shoes on and leave without saying goodbye.
You sat at the bar Pete had sent you the address to. Music blaring in your ears. Surely this was just the meeting point? Didn't feel like somewhere you'd spend an nice and intimate night together.
Your phone flicked on and off in your hands several times over as time passed, fingers restlessly swiping up and across with no real goal just to click off again.
By twenty the bartender starts to glare at you for taking up a stool. You order a beer just to appease.
When he finally rushes in, Pete leans down and kisses your cheek.
"It's okay," you brush off automatically.
"Whatcha drinking?" He gestures over.
You hold up the bottle to answer.
"Nice. You get me one too?" He asks. His phone dings and his attention drops with it, slipping away easily.
You nod, even though he isn't looking at you. You try to engage.
"Hey, I'm glad you asked to see me...," you start. He's still locked onto his screen, scrolls, scrolls, starts texting, "I wasn't sure where you were at lately..."
He grunts in affirmation and nods like he's listening. His thumbs tapping away at the screen.
"Are you listening to me?"
"Huh?" He finally glances up, a quick flicker that hesitates to return to you. "Yeah, yeah. Keep going."
The words stall out, his eyes magnetized to his screen. He has to lock the screen to finally give you the light of day.
You switch gears, go easy first. "So what the plan for tonight?"
His face lights up and for a second - just a second - you think maybe this is it. Maybe this time would be different.
"I've been texting the guys," he says, grinning, "and they know this really cool spot downtown where they want to show me-"
You blink, oh. You feel hollowed out. He continues rambling as you stare past him, seeing everything all at once.
Every apology you made first.
Every time you told yourself it wasn't a big deal. That you were fine. That you just needed to relax.
You cut in, "I thought you said you had something special planned."
"I mean, yeah, that was it." He gestures vaguely with his phone. "Why are you making it a thing?"
You stare at him for a second. Wait from him to hear how he sounds and clarify. He doesn't.
"I'm not making it a thing, Pete. I just thought we were spending the night together. Like... actually together. Alone."
He exhales through his nose.
"God, you always do this."
He's already halfway gone from the bar stool, he shifts around in annoyance.
"I always do what, Pete?" You push in genuine confusion.
"You turn everything into a fucking problem. It's supposed to be a fun night and your- i don't know...picking it apart."
"I'm not picking it apart, I'm just trying to understand what you want from me. With me."
"See? That! That's exactly what I mean."
Eyes lower down to look at your beer, you run your fingernail against the lip of it.
"You make everything heavier than it is. We're just hanging out and having a little bit of fun together, right?"
"I don't think I'm asking for anything heavy," you say. "I just want to feel like you actually want me here. I just want you to see something more in me than just a fuck buddy because that's what this is starting to feel like."
"Come on, you know that's not true."
"I'm telling you that's how I feel, Pete. I feel so fucking stupid for trying so hard to make this something more when you only come around when it's convenient for you."
"No," he cuts immediately, "That's not fair. You make it sound like I'm using you or something."
"I don't think your using me" you sigh, "I just think you want me without having to... hold me."
The silence after is muffled by music booming in the background.
He doesn't really follow that, but he's heard enough to feel cornered. And instead of sitting with it or easing your worries or confronting your pain with clarity he pulls away.
"I don't think this is gonna work out for me then."
He nods like he's confirming it to himself more than to you.
"Yeah. I mean, I like you, but this... you constantly needing stuff from me. It's just not what I want right now."
Scrape. You let the words echo in your head for a bit. Feel stupid when your eyes glaze over like you weren't expecting this. Enraged and disappointed at yourself for not being the one to end it first.
"I think we should just stop here," he adds casually, "before it gets messy."
You almost laugh, feeling crazy in the midst of the mess he's made in your head. In your heart. He can't see it though. Won't see it.
He watches you for a reaction, making sure its contained, then stands from his stool.
"You're not mad right?" He checks.
You look up at him with despair. Marveling at how easy it was for him to just check out. How little it took for him to be done with you as if you were just some prop in his life. You hope the light's are dim enough to hide your eyes.
It doesn't feel negotiable even if you were. It's done.
"Okay," he says, relieved, "I'll text you later about your stuff."
Simon hears keys clank in the door.
He shoots upright from where he'd slumped into the couch, half-asleep with some miscellaneous cartoon murmuring in the background of his thoughts. He hates falling asleep before you're home. Can't. Not until he knows you're safe.
He rubs his eyes hard, vision glittering before clearing to see you.
You're frozen just by the doorway, tear streaks down your cheeks. When your eyes lock with his, something in you cracks.
You turn away quickly, unwilling to see pity bloom across his face.
He didn't want you. And now nobody did.
Simon is on his feet before you can gather yourself. He closes the distance in a few strides, hands landing on your shoulders. Firm and grounding.
He wants to ask how it went. Where Pete was. What he did.
You struggle against the lump against your throat, quickly swiping at the fresh streaks of tears on your cheeks. Tired of crying. Tired of feeling small.
The low hum of the apartment - the old fridge, the whirl of the box fan in Simon's room, the TV - feels louder somehow. Too domestic and strange. Too intimate. It undoes you completely.
"I just..." your voice wobbles humiliatingly, "He didn't want to do it anymore."
He guides you to the couch, hands holding you steady as if you might fall over.
You sit. He sits close. The silence stretches.
Simon drags a hand over his mouth, cogs turning. You save him the breath.
"I think I expected it to be different. I keep thinking if I just tried hard enough it would just...click."
"You shouldn't have to try that hard," Simon mutters.
You shrug weakly. "I don't know how not to."
"Well, fuck, kid, you drag him around and wait on him all the damn time like he's a toddler."
"I know. Okay? I know..." Your voice cracks again. "I know."
His anger falters immediately. Never meant for you to begin with.
"...You deserve to be taken care of."
You're muted in thought. Silence thickening.
There's something building behind his ribs, something he's been holding back for a long time. You can see it in the way he won't quite meet your eyes now.
"You shouldn't have to beg someone to show up for you," he resolves. "You shouldn't have to twist yourself into something easier. Or smaller."
Your throat tightens. The urge to defend yourself compelling you to speak.
"You are," he cuts in, sharper than he means to. Then softer, "You do."
He leans forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped in an effort to contain himself.
"I've seen it, seen you." He admits. "Every time you get back from seeing him, you look like you've been wrung out."
Your breath stutters, eyes locked onto his now.
"I kept thinking," he continues, low and steady, "if I just waited it out, you'd see it for yourself. You'd see how bullshit this guy is. That I don't get to say shit because I already had my chance and I gave it up."
The air shifts into something more raw. Exposed.
"I thought," he gulps, "if you were happy, then that was enough."
His voice cracks slightly on the last word, he hates that it does.
"But you weren't," he says. "You're not."
You're suddenly aware of how close he is. The heat from his knee brushing against yours.
"I don't want you smaller," he blurts. "I don't want you tired or disappointed or looking at the door like your some goddamn puppy waiting to be picked from the litter. And it fucking kills me to watch you try so hard for someone who doesn't see you the way I do."
He can't seem to stop this confessional he's created in your living room. His hand lifts slightly. He wants to touch your face but isn't sure he's allowed.
"I see you," he says, barely above a whisper. "All of it. But you don't have to give like that with me."
His thumb brushes the tears from your cheeks and this is how you know just what he's saying. What it all means.
"I know I fucked it up," he confirms, "the first time." He keeps swiping at your cheeks gently with his thumb. Praying you know what it means.
He's here. He's here now.
Please don't let it be too late.
Your shimmering eyes flick from his eyes to his lips and back up again. Calculating the possibility of this. All of it. And everything in between. You don't get very far.
Simon's lips are on yours in an instant. He can taste the salt of sorrow and sweet of your chapstick. Like cookie dough. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip. Teeth clicking against each other.
Your eyebrows knit together. His hair scratching at your lip as you swipe the bottom of his lip with your tongue.
A gasp leaves you as his lips depart quickly. Pulling back in shock.
You ease his worry by pulling him in again. Your heart fluttering so hard you're afraid you'll faint. You're hands shoot out to his neck, grounding yourself. This was all you'd ever wanted.
"I need you," you whisper between kisses. There's panic and hope and desire and joy swirling around in your chest like a storm.
"Fuck." He rasps. Keeps kissing you like he's hungry. Starving. "What do you need. Tell me."
"Wanna taste you," you plead. Tugging on his sweats, you kneel.
He reaches out as if to pull you back up, wanting to give you what you want first. What you've deserved all this time. But you just give and give and give.
"Please?" You peer up at him with wet lashes.
He settles a hand on your head, fingers threading through your hair. You shiver. Your hands shake a little while undoing the knot on Simon's pants. The buldge in his briefs makes your mouth water.
You ground yourself at his hips.
Trace the line that maps its way down, down, down with your fingers until your gripping the base of his cock in your hand. Start with slow and steady strokes.
His skin calls to you. You stroke faster as he lets out more noise. Small grunts and gasps of 'yeah' and 'just like that'. You press kisses on his hip and can't help the draw to tongue the tip of his dick. Licking slow circles before wrapping your mouth around him.
You moan as you swallow him down, bobbing further and faster just to hear him. Just to feel him grasp your hair tighter.
Bites his lip to keep his mouth closed, eyes squeezed shut. It does him no good. Needing the oxygen to keep himself from losing it. His uneven breaths leave him moaning dry and desperate.
"Oh. Fuck~ wait. Mmh. Wait, wait." He pulls away, a hand on your cheek pushing you off gently. His voice cracks in pleasure. "Need you to stop for me doll."
He catches his breath, breathing through the edge to come back down. Doesn't wanna cum too soon.
"Was that okay?" Your eyes flick up as you wipe spit of the side of your lip.
"No trust me, I was-" he stammers, "You did so fucking well. I just..."
Your lips tingle. Your body vibrates.
"...I can't cum this early when I haven't even tasted you yet."
Nobody had ever offered to do that before.
He smirks. "Take these off for me." He tugs at your pants.
He's already helping you, pulling down after you unbutton your pants. Wiggling to get them off, your underwear coming off with them leaving you feeling embarrassingly exposed.
He runs his hands over your thighs, up towards your knee and back down again. Eyes wandering all over. "Fuck you look so good."
Your heart thuds against your chest as he kisses your knee. Trailing slowly down to the soft skin of your inner thigh, a bloom of lust spreading to your core. You swallow hard as his lips meet your folds.
"Simon," you purred. His tongue flicks against your clit, then runs slow circles around it. He sucks and spreads your lips apart with his fingers to glide his tongue down towards your entrance.
Your back arches, your hips grinding down onto his tongue as he laps at you. The hum of his moans making you lose yourself more and more.
He pulls away for breath. "Taste so fucking sweet," licks and wipes his mouth of your arousal, "So perfect." His face is flushed.
He pushes your trembling legs together so that your thighs touch. Slides himself between the plump skin of your inner thighs. In and out.
You're eyes greedily switching between the bliss on his face and the tip of his cock peeking out from between your legs with every thrust. He's making sounds like you've never heard before and you squeeze your legs tighter in need.
"Fuck doll, you feel so good. So fucking perfect for me." He groans. One hand is resting on your knee, the other kneading the skin on your hips.
You both whine in need and suddenly he's shoving your legs back apart. His hard cock springing down along with you both as he wraps an arm around you. Slides you under him before he positions himself in line with your wet slit. The sweet velvet of you making his head drop against your chest. He pushes in.
You exhale. Partly from bliss and partly from the stretch. It's, unfortunately been a while since you had been intimate with anyone. The gap had made this all the more blissful and intense.
His hand glides up to your chest, marking his touches with hungry pecks at your skin. You clench around him as he sinks deeper, drunk with need.
"I know, baby. I got you." His lips catch yours again as he eases himself in. Slow and steady. Too slow.
Your legs wrap around his waist and you draw him in quicker, needing him to fill you up. Needing to feel him closer. He grunts as he bottoms out and your making sweet sounds in his ear. Sets a steady pace that leaves you dizzy.
The room echoes with rasped breaths and gasps mixed with the creak of the couch against the wooden floor.
He pulls one leg closer to his shoulder and the angle makes you choke. His hips snap into yours, chasing the heat thats building in his groin. Chasing the noises you make when he fucks into you harder that break down all words to sputtering.
"Ah~ fuck. yes," your cries endless strings of pleasure. Your nails dig into his back to ground yourself as you frantically edge closer and closer to edge.
"You're doing so fucking amazing doll. Taking it so fucking good for me." He rumbles against your ear, his arm now under your knee as he keeps pounding into you.
"You gonna come for me baby?" He rasps. You nod ceaselessly.
"So close, Simon. Please."
Hitting your g-spot over and over, you cry out as waves of electricity wash over you. He fucks you through it with tender praises. Takes his thumb and rubs your clit over and over until the faded bliss becomes pain.
thats it baby. fuck. there we go. so fucking good. can't believe it.
The tight velvet of your pussy clenching around him as you sob at the overstimulation sends him over the edge. He tenses deep inside of you, spilling into you with a strangled groan before his sweaty forehead comes to rest against your chest.
You lay tangled in a mess of sweat and heat, both catching your breath.
"Shit." He exhales into your neck.
You reel back in worry to look at him. He's smirking.
"Should've done that a long time ago."
โ - notes: currently looking for a beta reader :) - also, I am pretty much finished with my MA program so will have so much more time to write! Still open to requests but this is mostly just for fun atp since not a ton of people see these anyway lol. DM if interested and send requests for more fics pretty please :3
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