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@whatismypurpos
lipstick kiss marks with bf!sukuna
âcome on babe itâs gonna look so cool!â you pleaded, giving him your best puppy eyes in another attempt to convince him.
youâd been scrolling through pinterest, following your nightly routine, when you came across a really cute couple pic where the guy had lipstick marks all over his bicep, maybe an overly used idea but you still found it pretty cute. and well, safe to say the idea had been stuck in your head for a week before you finally decided to play dirty and convince him to recreate the exact same picture for your perfected instagram feed.
and in your book, playing dirty meant mean puppy eyes and pouty lips with glossy tears sitting tightly on the edge of your lashes, threatening to spill over them.
a sight you knew he was hopelessly weak for.
you grinned to yourself. he was as grumpy as ever, letting out a long groan before throwing an arm over his eyes in a poor attempt to ignore you. huge mistake.
you were sitting on top of him while he lay sprawled across couch with his legs hanging over the armrest. fond as he was of summer, he wasnât exactly immune to the dry heat that came with it and now he was dealing with a persistent headache for days, causing him to lay in the same spot for hours until the sun went down. currently, he was in his fourth hour of the day.
âbabee,â you whined with the exact pout you knew he could never resist.
he groaned again, one hand instinctively settling around your waist to steady you. âyâknow youâre a fucking menace.â
you grinned. âdoes that mean yes?â
a tight silence stretched across his features. he sighed as his voice crawled up to a tone so defeated.
âdo whatever you want.â
you let out an excited squeal, a scream of victory, before immediately reaching for the red lipstick.
ever since youâd started dating, youâd realized no matter how stubborn or intimidating he could be, never before had it seem as he had the determination to say a simple ânoâ to you. at first heâd been genuinely confused by it, convinced there had to be some scientific explanation for why he was physically incapable of rejecting you. well, the explanation he came up with was that he was just a guy so in love. a guy weak and devoted in love.
he seemed to accept this half scientific explanation he had for himself wholeheartedly. he was a weak man.
Hidden Signals
Pairing:Â Azriel x Archeron!Reader
Summary:Â No one expected you to understand fae customs just yetâmuch less Illyrian customs. So maybe Azriel should have made his intentions a little more obvious. He began to understand that mistake as you began to pull away.Â
Word count:Â 3k
Warnings:Â Biggest miscommunication trope lol, angst, pining!, idiots in love, Archeron!Reader but really only that she was human and now fae
a/n:Â I can't believe I actually wrote something finally lol thank you for reading if you're heree <3 This is such a fun trope to read I love it please enjoyyy! (part 2 coming)
Read part two here!
Main Masterlist âĄ
~~
You slumped back into your seat, arms crossed over your stomach in a show of frustration you would rather hide. Sometimes, it was easy to pretend you werenât falling in love with Azriel in a pathetic way. Today was not one of those days.Â
The Shadowsinger had his head tipped back in a laugh, cheeks tinged a subtle pink as Mor recounted something you couldnât hear. Well, you could, your new fae ears tuned to every sound, but youâd learned how to block out what you didnât want. Sound had been the most disorienting sense after youâd been Made, but Azriel had done well in teaching you to hone it.Â
You wished he had taught you how to tamp down your emotions as well; immortality in the face of longing and jealousy was looking bleak.Â
Inspired by [this] post by @bluecarolina
Ghost is hardly a jealous man, he doesn't really care about things enough to be jealous.
Well, except for you.
You, and the bloke who's practically been attached at your arm for the past two weeks. You two talk like old friends, like you've known eachother for years. Ghost knows from eavesdropping that "me and him were always close, you know? Kind of impossible not to miss eachother after I had to move."
The thought of it makes ghost seethe. It's a startling feeling considering he's never felt so territorial over someone before. All ghost wants is a moment alone with you, just to talk, and everywhere he turns your boyfriend is there.
Well. He assumes boyfriend, with the lack of a ring. But it's impossible to know when ghost avoids him and by proxy you. The worst part? Ghost didn't realize he liked you until that dickhead came around.
"Oh, ghost! I've been meaning to catch you!" You smile when ghost finally breaks during lunch, boyfriend sat across from you at the table.
You gesture to him, missing the way ghosts hand pulls his balaclava just above his nose, "this is myâ"
Ghost kisses you, both hands holding yout jae steady.
The whole mess hall goes dead silent, not that he'd care. He leans in further, having to bow down at the awkward position, licking into your mouth with a wet tongue. You can't help but melt into it a bit, ignoring the gasp from next to you.
When you finally pull away, ghost is blushing beneath the mask, your own face heated.
"This," you say, all smug and pleased as you point to the man ghost has genuinely considered killing, "...is my brother. He's visiting for the month.
....oh.
....ghost grabs your arm and drags you away. He can deal with an angry brother later, right now he's aching to kiss you more and he knows you are too.
roomie!simon x f!reader
you cut the carrot for tonightâs dinner mindlessly. your eyes anywhere but the cutting board. simonâs on the couch, sipping on a beer, watching some tv channel heâs not really interested in.
his eyes flicker to your absent form, the knife now only a few inches away from your fingers as youâre cutting.
"y/n."
"hm?"
"yer off today."
"oh, iâm just⌠tired."
he knew you were avoiding actually speaking up about what was really going on in your brain.
he mutes the tv, sets his beer down onto the coffee table and walks towards you. the big but somewhat gentle hands of his take the knife out of your hand and continue chopping for you.
"now tell meh. whatâs goinâ on in thaâ brain of yers?"
"nothing big⌠itâs just⌠a little pathetic. donât wanna really talk about it."
"i donât judge, sugar."
after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, you speak up.
"itâs just⌠my friends were all planning to go out with all of their respective boyfriends, and iâm just⌠i dunno, i just shut down⌠itâs not like i wouldnât wanna come, but⌠iâm just a third wheel everywhere."
by the time you finished your sentence you havenât even noticed he finishes chopping and now stands next to you.
"it just makes one wonder if theyâre not good enough, you know⌠i mean, i canât be that ugly, right? or am i? i mean⌠ugh⌠like⌠why has no guy ever looked at me in that way? am i too fat, am i too-"
"y/n. look at me for a sec."
obviously, you follow a deep voiceâs order.
"youâre⌠the most⌠the⌠most beautiful girl i ever got the privilege to live with. and if other guys donât see what you⌠like⌠have, then thatâs on them, no? so⌠um⌠if⌠eh⌠if you want me to i can⌠come along?"
"youâd⌠come along? with me?"
"yeah, why not?"
"but youâre not my-"
"not yet."
he slowly moves in, giving you time to pull away, but you give the nonverbal answer heâs been hoping for. as your lips meet, he thinks of the first time you met. nobody had responded to his "searching for a roomie" notice. well, nobody except you. you were so different to him and yet so similar. from the first second after youâd signed the contract until now, heâd always had a feeling there was more.
maybe there were signs.
like him suddenly telling you the rent halved for some reason he allegedly didnât understand either - in reality, it stayed the same.
or like everyone saying that the owners that lived there before simon always complained about the showerâs temperature being uncontrollable, it happened to you one time, but after you told simon and he just seemed to shrug it off, it never happened again.
or like when the noisy downstairs neighbors who kept you from sleeping one night because they were blasting hardstyle on hellish volunes suddenly quieted down after you groaned once in your room and made a voice memo to a friend, but you never texted simon. the downstairs neighbors only listened to muskc with headphones on after that.
but as realisation came to you that all of that was his doing, you realized heâd done it all for you, all to keep you with him, all to keep you in his flat.
and heâs succeeded.
âââââ
a/n: sorry for the long inactivity đ iâm somewhat back now (and thx for the attention all of my posts are getting đŤśđťđŤśđťđŤśđťđŤśđť)
HOTEL STRANGER
one night stand!jason todd x fem!reader
waking up next to a stranger in your hotel room after a turn of events caused by a few drinks at the hotelâs bar.
# drabble .áâ¸â¸ one night stand!jason todd â¸â¸ hook-up â¸â¸ morning after â¸â¸ suggestive â¸â¸ sfw â¸â¸
sunlight seeped through the hotel room curtains. you shifted beneath them and immediately wincedâevery muscle protested, with a deep ache spreading between your thighs and radiating through your hips. holy shit. your head pounded faintly from last night's minibar drinks, but the real proof was right beside you.
the man lay on his stomach, face half-buried in the pillow, one arm casually draped over the edge of the mattress. his dark hair was a total mess, sticking up in wild directions with that one white streak catching the light. the sheets had slipped low, barely covering the curve of his hips, leaving the broad expanse of his back exposed. god, he was built like a tankâwide shoulders tapering into a powerful, scarred v-shape, with old wounds and fresh marks telling of fights and stories you didnât know. muscles even at rest. you couldnât stop staring.
what the hell did i do? vacation fling with a total stranger. the smooth talk at the minibarâhim nursing a whiskey, you on your second cocktailâhad somehow turned into heated banter, lingering contact, and then⌠this. you remembered the way heâd smiled, the low rumble of his voice when he leaned in close: âyou sure you can handle a guy like me, sweetheart?â youâd laughed and pulled him toward the elevator.
now, in the sober light of morning, reality hit. and it hit hard. though, he was gorgeous, intense, and clearly dangerous in ways you werenât careful of last night. you didnât even know his last name.
you tried to slip out of bed quietly, but the mattress dipped and he stirred. his green eyes cracked open, hazy at first, then sharpening with that street-honed alertness. he didnât bolt or look panickedâjust rolled his head on the pillow to look at you properly with a lazy, crooked smirk tugging at his lips. his voice was rough with sleep, but never missed the sarcasm. âmorninâ, gorgeous. you gonna stare at my back all day or come back here and tell me your name again? pretty sure i earned forgetting it after last night.â
heat rushed to your face. you clutched the sheets higher, suddenly hyper-aware of your own nudity. âitâs⌠still [name] and yeah, i remember your name, jason.â
he chuckled as he pushed up on his elbows and turned over to lie on his back. the movement made the sheets slide even lower in the process, giving you a glimpse of more of that sculpted back and the dimples at the base of his spine. scars crisscrossed his skinâknife wounds, burns, bullet grazes. this guy had seen some shit. he didnât seem bothered by you noticing. âgood. means i didnât completely blow your mind. though from the way youâre moving⌠sore?â his tone was teasing, but there was a softer thing underneathâconcern? satisfaction? both?
you nodded, biting your lip. âyeah. we⌠went a few rounds.â
jason sat up fully then, the sheet pooling at his waist, and ran a hand through his messy hair. he looked rumpled and stupidly, unfairly hot. âdidnât hear any complaints. you were enthusiastic. kept calling me âbig guyâ and some other things iâm not repeating unless you ask nicely.â he winked, but his eyes scanned you carefully, like he was checking for any regrets on your end. âlook, iâm not the âflowers and breakfastâ type, but iâm not an asshole who ghosts either. you good?â
you hesitated, pulling your knees up. part of you wanted to boltâthis was reckless. stupid. hooking up with a stranger built like a whole army. but another part, the one still buzzing from the memory of his hands and mouth and the way heâd taken control so easily and⌠so sexy, wanted to stay. âiâm⌠processing. didnât exactly plan on waking up next to a guy who looks like he could bench-press a car.â
he snorted, reaching over to brush a strand of hair from your face with surprising gentleness. his fingers lingered before he pulled them back with a sigh, stretching his arms outâmuscles rippling underneath skin. âflatteryâll get you everywhere. iâm on a break from⌠work. needed to get out of gotham for a bit. didnât expect company like you.â his smirk faded into something a touch more genuine. âif you want me out, say the word. no hard feelings and shit. but if youâre up for round⌠whatever weâre on, and some coffee after, iâm game.â
you met his eyes, heart racing faster than usual. risky, yes. but the way he looked at you made you want to lean in so badly.
âcoffee first,â you said. âthen weâll⌠see about those other rounds.â
jasonâs grin returned, full of promise and sexual innuendo. âsmart choice. i like a woman who knows what she wants.â he leaned in, voice dropping to that gravelly and unbelievably hot murmur that was the reason this all started all last night. âand iâm very good at giving it.â
Š nagumolvr , you do not have permission to translate, copy, repost, or feed my work to ai.
Of course they donât like Milly Alcockâs Supergirl. Sheâs a grown ass woman with zero love interests who spends the movie saving her dog, casually dismantling a sex trafficking ring while sheâs at it, and preaching the importance of being good, not nice or smiley or cheerful but good. I for one adored the movie and I really hope Iâll get to see more of Alcockâs Supergirl sheâs now my favorite iteration of her and I love her so dearly.
I was pretty sick last week and STILL getting over all the congestion but it got me thinking about....
Awkward!Ghost who comes back from a long deployment looking forward to being a hermit with you at home. Only to walk in and find you sniffling and sneezing on the couch, tissues scattered with your favorite cuddle blanket pressed over your nose to help you breathe.
Awkward!Ghost who just stands there looking down at you as you smile at him, "It's just a little cold, I think this is the worst of it, don't worry Simon." It was not the worst of it. For two more days you ran a low grade fever and your sinuses decided to torture you with excessive mucus and as a bonus - clogged ears giving you bouts of vertigo.
Awkward!Ghost who never considered himself the caretaker type and genuinely doesn't know what to do. So he'll just follow as you shuffle from bed to the bathroom, or to the kitchen to make a warm tea to drink. He'll watch as you collapse on the couch clutching a box of tissues and your blanket. When you fall asleep he'll keep watching you, making sure your chest keeps with the steady rise and fall of breathing.
Awkward!Ghost who carries you to bed because he can't sleep well without your body present. So when you wake up confused in the dim light, he shifts to let you know. "Simon I don't want you getting sick too!" You plead all hoarse and stuffy nose. It makes his lips tick up in a small grin, "Don' worry bout me lovie. 'Mnot goin' anywhere soon."
Awkward!Ghost who is gone when you wake from a dead sleep finally feeling like a human again. As you emerge from the shower he's standing there with a paper bag of sandwiches from your favorite deli. No fanfare, no 'feeling better?', just his giant frame blocking the door, eyes scanning you over.
Awkward!Ghost who might not be a caretaker or great nurse, but he's a steady presence, always watching and observing. A sentinel standing nearby, protecting what he loves most.
á´á´á´Ęá´á´ęą!ɢĘá´ęąá´ É´ęąę°á´Ą
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Simon 'Ghost' Riley is a simple, plain man. Meaning he hates spending money on himself unless it's absolutely necessary, this man has thousands in the bank because he just doesn't spend it.
That's why Simon loves high maintenance women, specifically you. He loves that you get your hair done every month, loves that you get your nails done, eyelashes, facials, pedicures. God he absolutely loves providing for his woman.
The only problem is that you're not used to spending other people's money. You work, and you work hard for your money.
"Bye Si. I'll see you later," you shouted as you put your shoes on, just about to head out the door.
"Where you going love?"
That made you stop and slowly turn to face Simon. "I've got my nail appointment today." You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, which it was. You had wrote it on the calendar.
"Hm and who's paying?"
"Um... Me?"
"Guess again," Simon was already in front of you, placing his bank card between your cleavage.
"Simon."
"Don't 'Simon' me," he mumbled as he kissed your forehead. "You know the rules. You look pretty and I pay for it." And you couldn't argue because Simon smacked your arse before pushing you out the door and locking it.
Oh, and don't bother trying to pay. Simon already took your credit card.
you could never get tired of admiring your husband heian era!sukuna âĄ
most people couldnât look at him for long.
the moment they caught sight of him, their eyes dart away. some out of fear, or some out of disgust. they believe a creature like him isnât meant to be looked at.
you think they are all blind.
the evening is quiet, lantern light casting a warm glow across the room. it has become part of your nightly routine before bed, these quiet moments spent with your husband after the day has settled.
sukuna sits against the bed frame, one pair of arms folded while the other rests loosely across his lap.
his crimson eyes follow you as you crawl toward him. you sit down beside him and gently take one of his hands, then another.
his brows rise as he looks at you expectantly.
you compare them, turning them over in your palms. thick fingers, calloused skin, veins running beneath flesh capable of tearing apart crowds.
yet you trace them carefully, as if they are something precious.
âfour arms..â you murmur.
âyou say that as if youâve only just noticed,â he says, clicking his tongue after.
simon is a horrible partner to sleep with in this weather. he wears only his briefs and gets clammy five minutes after falling asleep. you have to scoop to the very side of the bed because he's just too big and likes to dig his shoulder into the split between the mattresses (he's too cheap to buy a matrimonial) and you can feel the heat billowing off him even when inches apart.
he's always warm, maladapted to the mugginess, and you're not that different.
you touch each other less and less, nerves overstimulated by the temperature. he keeps muscling his way into the shower because its the only place you'll let him fuck you.
you wake up in the middle of the night with sweat in the divot of your spine and stare up at the ceiling in irritation. he doesn't care because he keeps sleeping.
rationally, it's not exactly his fault. he's just made of fat and brawn which heat up quick, and you like it in the winter, that the little space of the bed forces you two to squeeze together. its nice and you miss it.
your body is still somewhat asleep and not opposed to the idea of some touching.
you decide to test out that instinct by sliding a leg over his pale thigh, shuffling closer over the humid sheets. the regret is immediate, starting your retreat the moment your ankle itches with the warmth of his skin.
simon tries to fish for you with his eyes closed, and you swat his hand away before it can make contact. "no," you bleat, already back to irritated.
he grunts his disappointment while digging his face into the pillow. you can't stand the bed anymore.
its around three and you paddle down the hallway into the kitchen. the portable AC hooked into the glass door tempts you with the beeping of its spy light, but your feet drag past it â all the windows are open, wishing to catch some stray night breeze, and it'd be a bore to shut them close.
you think about pulling a knife from the drawer and hacking at yourself from the nape down. you want your skin off. instead, you open the fridge door for some water.
the cold air is so inviting that you forget about it and stand still in front of the appliance. it brushes against your exposed midriff and under the fine fuzz on your thighs. somewhere in the back of your skull your brain protests something about electricity bills and food preservation, but you really don't want to move.
"oi." simon pads behind you, and you realise you've been standing in place longer than planned. "yer lettin' the cold out."
"go back to bed."
"s'you can hog the fridge? move over."
you feel him on your spine and keep your elbow from wanting to knock him in the jaw. "go away."
he burrs that rumble that stands in for a chuckle and puts an arm over the top of the freezer, bumping his bicep into your crown. his belly is sticky when it slots into your back, perspiration blooming there immediately, so you slouch further towards the fridge.
"fuck off. this is my space."
"th'is my space," he singsongs, and he tugs the hem of your shorts over your ass, not even bothering with the front until the cheeks are out. he knows you don't wear anything under because his thumb pads at your labia to nudge it apart.
something makes you wince, his touch or the cold air or the heat. your body prims in interest, legs widening when he rubs the tent of his crotch up and down between your cleft.
"s'too hot," you try, but his shoulders are already pressing you down into more of a bend and sliding the fabric away from your pussy until it bunches at the top of your knees. he sticks his tacky fingers over your tacky clit and gives you a couple of good rubs.
"no, its not."
he decides for both of you. you feel light-headed and don't say otherwise.
he gives up too soon the effort of coaxing you away from sleepiness in favour of spitting into his palm and smearing the thick glob over your slit, wedging between your bodies. you want to scold him because saliva is terrible for your pH and he lets you open your mouth before he pushes two fingers inside, three knuckles in until you yelp.
when he fucks you, you have to press your cheek against the freezer door to not fall forward. it's too lazy to be any true shade of good, too pleasant to be any way of bad. he pins you there with his mouth on the bone and coos that your cunt's like a bloody fever, that you're such a wet girl, it's embarrassing. you're both aware most of the moisture between you is sweat.
simon bends his neck to lap at it on the start of your spine and you shiver when he tugs down your top so he can circle a nipple until it hardens in the cold air. you think that if it weren't for the fridge you'd pass out.
his thrusts are pushes, pressing against the fullness of your ass, made less to savour the back-and-forth and more because he likes how you pulse around his cock when they force you on your tiptoes.
he doesn't pace himself, and when you feel him throb, you almost stomp over his bare foot. "make me cum," you remind him, agitated, "simon, don't you dare- ah!"
you feel him grin with all his teeth, but he strums his fingers against your clit nonetheless. "shut up," he sighs, almost annoyed, nose fitted on your occipital. his hips smack against the back of yours when the motion of his pads has you tightening. "alrigh'. yeah, you cum too... tha's it..."
his spent slides down your legs into the gusset of your shorts, and you knock your knees together to keep it off the parquet.
"darlin'," he sniffs, like it's your fault, "look at you. yer all sweaty."
you hate him a little when he hounds you into the shower. you hate him a little less with cold water washing over you.
this time in bed, you're both naked, cool enough that you risk plastering under the wing of his lateral muscles. it still takes him only five minutes to get clammy, holding you prisoner under his arm.
You Wake up to the sound of the door rattling. The training of the boys immediatly Kicks in.
You open your bedside drawer getting the Small gun they made you get lisensed for. You disengage the safety on the weapon and get out of bed.
The rustling stopped but now you hear havy feet drag over the floor downstairs.
Slowly you open the bedroomdoor, you see the lights downstairs. Deep voices reach your ears and you stop in your tracks. Your sleep mind doesnt recolect the voices which makes you inch closer to the stairs.
a man with a weird looking hairstyle walks up the stairs.
Before you think you shoot a warning shot into the wall next to the Mans head.
a short silence follows the shot before the man starts screaming.
"Bonnie it´s just me." soap Holds up his hands in surrender and your Brain finally understands that the only thing that happend was that your boys came back home.
The gun sinks back down and you look at soap who´s wearing his big smile.
"You´re.... You´re home." you nearly throw yourself at the golden Retriever man.
Soap catches you in a hug, picks you up and goes back down the stairs to the others.
"We trained our lassie good. And we might have to fix our wall." Soap laughs when he hands you off to gaz.
You felt him before you heard him. The mattress dipped down low, hesitant.
Simon.
He had come home mere minutes ago from deployment, and still smelled like gun powder. Much to your chagrin, you couldnât deny the fact that you very much loved your husbandâs scent.
His gloved hand floats above your head for a moment before removing the gloves entirely. Only then did you feel his warm hand caress your cheek. âSuch a pretty bird, hm?â He murmurs to himself, letting his finger brush away hair strands from your face.
He stays there for a minute, watching your closed eyes flutter every now and then, before changing clothes. Changing into something safe.
When your eyes opened, the sun was peaking through the blinds. All you could feel was warmth from the body next to you, warmth you havenât felt in weeks. You roll over, as much as you could in his tight grasp, and met his eyes.
âYouâre back,â You said groggily, burrowing your face against the crook of his neck. âI thought you were supposed to come home next week. Whenâd you get in?â
âFew hours ago, love,â He pressed a kiss against the side of your head. âPrice let me off easy.â Another kiss. And another. God, you missed it when he was this clingy.
âGood. I wouldâve had a word with him if he didnât.â You mumbled threateningly. Of course, he knew you had meant it. You took his job very seriously.
He made a small acknowledging sound in return. âSure you wouldâve, lovie,â His hand trailed up and down your spine in useless patterns. âWouldâve expected nothing less from my Sleeping Beauty.â
âââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Ermmmm 100 followers? Thank you guys?? Holy cow đĽşđŤś
To say that youâre surprised to find out the first time you travel together, that Simon supposedly has a fear of flying you never knew of, would be an understatement
Itâs just a quick flight out of London, less than an hour in the air to go spend the long weekend together somewhere different for a change
And yet your mountain of a man hasnât said a peep since the moment you took your seats, eyes staring straight ahead with his hands gripping the armrests for dear life
Youâre just a tad bit bewildered on how a lieutenant in the SAS has been harbouring an aversion to flying without you ever hearing of it
Unbeknownst to you, Simon hasnât got a single problem with flying, heâs just pissed as all hell that you put your own bag in the overhead storage instead of letting him do it when he offered
Simon âGhostâ Riley x Single mom!reader (pt.2!!)
Summary: Simon saw the tiktoks of guys lifting up the stomachs of their pregnant wives to remove the weight for them (This is set before the OG post, this is when reader is pregnant with her baby girl) Although Simon isnt your husband, he still wanted to try
a/n: hehehe per request from @thyrisblog here is more of Single mom! readerđ
(not proof read)
After a brutal day of training, the boys were relaxing in the common rooms in the barracks. Due to you just entering your 3rd trimester, you haven't been doing the same work outs as the boys. But even when you still workout at a slower pace, it still hurts with all the extra weight from carrying your baby. The boys have helped you so much when it came to your pregnancy.
Youâre currently standing in the kitchen making pasta, when Simon walks in.
âHey Si.â you say, as you stir the pasta.
âHey mamasâ he murmurs.
âWhats up? Want some pasta?â you turn to look at him.
âNo, Iâm okay. I wanna try something though.â He replyâs as he steps behind you.
âOkay, what isââ your cut off as Simonâs hands snake around your waist and slide under your plump stomach, before be gently lifts.
You moan softly, âSimonâŚâ
âFeel Good? Saw a video, and wanted to try it.â He whispers softly.
You lean back against his chest. He lightly kissed your neck. All your tension slowly melts, as you close your eyes.
âYou enjoyinâ yourself?â He chuckles.
âMhmâŚâ you hum, âThank you, Siâ
âAnytime, mamasâ
a/n: Lowkey im just gonna make this a series, because as i was writing this i got a rush of ideas. I hope you enjoyed this, iâll see you all next weekđ
Simon walks into your shared appartment seeing you sitting on the ground crying.
You´re sitting on the ground in front of the TV which is currently playing some Shelter videos of dogs getting adopted.
You don´t even notice your boyfriend standing in the doorway to the living room.
At first Simon wanted to kill someone for making you cry but now he is trying not to laugh at how adorable his sweet sensitive girlfriend is.
It takes you another five minutes to realise that Simon is back home from work.
"Si-" your voice breaks "Look how happy" more tears are running down your face.
Simon gets to you in three long strides, picks you up and hugs you.
"Si-"
"I know they are so cute", he Runs his crooked nose over yours and you try to breath.
Your crying intensivise tenfold and you bury your face in his shoulder.
He runs his hand down your back to calm you down a little while he walks over to the couch to sit down.
now your placed on Simons lap, his hands slowly move to your face to make you Look at him.
"What happend that you´re watching adoption videos?" he rubs his thumbs over your wet cheeks.
"A customer said i was stupid for forgetting the extra Ketchup packet he wanted." Simon is happy right now that he didnt take off his mask so you don`t see how his face turns mad.
"Baby, do you remember how he looked like?" his voice is wrapped in danger but he tries to keep calm so you wont freekout.
"no, si dont" you shake your head because you know what your military man would do to that idiot of a man that made you sad.
"No one gets to make you sad and get away with it.", he takes off his mask to give you a kiss on the nose.
"Si, please" a sigh leaves his lips but he takes your request serious so he nods.
"Okay, do you want Diner?" he changes the subject and you shake your head no.
He still makes you something to eat and you eat it, while that Happens he shoots a text to Price explaining what happend and that he needs an adress to some man.