Whore4Romance

24 Female Motto #1 The smuttier the better

[anunsociablebear]

Nothing will turn me away from you. I'll look at your past and find all the ways you should've been loved. I'll see the worst things you've done and understand you, not judge you. Lay the burdens you carry on my shoulders and the pain you feel in my palms, I'll take it even if I bleed.

I wont leave you, I'll only pull you closer.

[whore4romance]

I teared up reading this ❤️ I love this so much my first and only pin on my tumblr

[adelineriley999]

simon accidently yelled at you

The apartment had gone unbearably quiet after he yelled.

Not the comfortable kind of silence either. Not the kind Simon liked after long missions where the world finally stopped demanding things from him.

This silence was wrong.

You stood by the stove with your back turned, shoulders tense, blinking rapidly like if you just tried hard enough the tears would disappear before he saw them.

Too late.

Simon stared at you like he’d just watched himself pull a trigger he couldn’t take back. His chest rose once. Heavy.

“...Fuck.”

The word came out under his breath, barely audible.

You wiped quickly at your face. “It’s okay.”, you whispered , hurt and embarrassment blooming in your chest.

It wasn’t okay.

And Simon knew it immediately because your voice did that tiny shaky thing it only did when you were trying very hard not to cry.

He felt sick.

The kind where the person you love looks hurt because of you.

Simon took one cautious step forward. Then another.

“Love.”

You shook your head without turning around.

That hurt more than the tears.

Usually when he came home, you gravitated toward him automatically. Hands on his chest, arms around his waist. Soft little smiles like he was something worth waiting for.

Now you were standing as far away from him as the kitchen allowed.

Because he yelled.

Because he came home carrying all his anger and dropped it right at your feet.

His jaw clenched hard enough to ache.

“Don’t do that,” he said quietly.

“Do what?”, you mumbled, trying to smoothen your voice.

“Stand there acting like you deserve that.”

You finally turned a little at that, eyes glossy. “Simon-”

“No.” He scrubbed a hand down his face harshly. “No, don’t excuse it.”

You went silent. He looked wrecked now. More wrecked than when he first walked in.

Rainwater still clung to his jacket. His shoulders sagged with exhaustion, but guilt sat on him even heavier.

“I came home to you,” he said, voice rough. “Warm flat, food on the stove, you waiting for me.” He laughed once bitterly at himself. “And first thing I do is bark at you like some miserable prick.”

Your lips parted slightly.

Simon looked away, jaw flexing.

“Spent two bloody weeks thinking about getting back to you.” His voice got quieter. “Then I walk through that door and make you cry inside five minutes.”

The tears you were trying to stop spilled over again.

The second he saw them, he looked genuinely devastated.

Not angry. Not frustrated.

Devastated.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

He crossed the room immediately then stopped himself halfway, hesitating.

Simon Riley, who would walk through gunfire without blinking, suddenly looking uncertain about whether he was allowed to touch his own wife.

“You don’t have to comfort me,” you whispered.

That nearly broke him, his eyes shut briefly.

“Christ.”

He finally stepped closer carefully, like approaching a wounded animal. His hands settled lightly on your arms, almost tentative.

“I’m sorry love,” he said again. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. Ever.”

You looked down, vision blurring, “I know you’re tired.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“I wasn’t trying to annoy you-”,you huffed ,choking slightly on the tears.

“I know.” His voice cracked slightly then steadied. “I know you weren’t.”

The guilt in his expression got worse somehow.

“You were taking care of me,” he murmured. “That’s all you were doing.”

You tried to look away again but Simon gently caught your chin before you could.

“Look at me.”

You did. Big mistake.

The second he saw how hard you’d been trying not to cry, his entire face softened into something painfully guilty.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.”, he murmured ,gently cupping your face.

“You never yell at me.”, you sniffled.

That one hit directly to the ribs.

Simon actually flinched.

His thumb brushed carefully under your eye, wiping away a tear with absurd gentleness for a man built like a concrete wall with emotional constipation.

“I swear to you,” he said quietly, “the second it came outta my mouth, I wanted to take it back.”

You could hear how honest it was.

Simon wasn’t good at pretty apologies. He wasn’t poetic, wasn’t smooth. But guilt made him painfully sincere.

“I hate that you looked at me like that,” he admitted softly.

“Like what?”

“Like you were trying to figure out if I was angry with you.”

His voice nearly disappeared on the last part. Because that was the thing eating him alive now. The fact that for even one second, you’d looked at him uncertainly instead of safely.

Simon pulled you against him suddenly, firm and desperate, burying his face into your h.air.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated quietly against your temple. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You felt the way he held you tighter after every apology, like he was trying to physically make up for it.

“I missed you,” he admitted in a low murmur. “Missed you so bad it felt wrong sleeping without you there.” His arms tightened. “Then I come home and act like that.”

Your hands slowly curled into his shirt. Simon exhaled shakily at the feeling.

“There she is,” he whispered, relief and guilt tangled together. “Thought I fucked this up properly for a second.” he mumbled ,inhaling the scent of your hair.

“You didn’t.”

“Nearly did.”

And judging by the way he kept pressing little apologetic kisses into your hair like a man trying to repent for his crimes against domestic peace, he was going to spend the rest of the night making absolutely sure you knew he regretted it.

lol yeah i'm procrastinating my long fics TT

[whore4romance]

I love this so much my heart❤️ i will also indeed cry if you yell at me 😭 and the reassurance just *chefs kiss* 🥰

[lushberrys]

AnxiousAttachment!Jason who needed to constantly have his hands on you, even when you need space

"Can you stop? I just need a minute." You'd ask after a long day. And while he cared he didn't care. "What, I can't touch you now? It's a crime to want to touch you and be close to you?" He'd argue back before dipping his head into the juncture of your shoulder from behind, his arms wrapping around your middle

AnxiousAttachment!Jason who texts you at two am for your reassurance when he's on patrol and those pesky thoughts get too loud. His mind won't stop racing until you answer him

"hey i know you're sleeping but you still love me right? you're not going to leave?" "i just feel like i can be doing more. am i doing enough?" "please stop ignoring me" "baby i just need to know i'm doing right by you"

He rushes to your apartment when you don't reply, gently waking you up just to talk to you

AnxiousAttachment!Jason who picks up on your moods instantly. He blames it on being raised by Bruce, he's an expert on reading body language. So if you seem even just a little bit off, he's spiraling

"Why'd you turn away from me? What did I do?" when you shift in the car. When you come home tired from work he's asking, "is it because I forgot to take the trash out? I'll do it right now. And don't worry about the dishes, I'll get those too." God forbid you don't laugh at his jokes the way you usually do, "hey, you're not mad at me are you?"

AnxiousAttachment!Jason who watches you out of the corner of his eye when you're on your phone. His mood instantly sours when he catches you laughing at the screen

"What's so funny, baby?" He asks as casually as possible. "Just my friend from work." You answer truthfully with an air of nonchalance that sets off alarms in Jason's mind. "Oh. Okay, that's cool... What's they're name?" He's ready to do an extensive background check to make sure they're not a threat to you or your relationship

AnxiousAttachment!Jason who lays awake at night when you're not with him, his thoughts spiraling

"They're gonna leave. I know it. Why would they stay? I have nothing to offer them. What, a once dead ex crime lord turned vigilante? Fuckin' stupid to think they see any future with me - shit there is no future with me."

He throws up from anxiety and finds his way to your apartment, breaking in through your bedroom window like he always did. He just needs to hold you, needs the proof that you're real and his

AnxiousAttachment!Jason who feels like his heart has been ripped out of his chest cavity when you spend your free time with your friends and not him

He knows, deep down, that there's nothing wrong with it. He loved that you have friends and he likes your friends well enough. But he always finds himself texting you against his better judgment. "Hey, having fun?" "When will you be back?" "Coming back anytime soon?" "Let me know when you're on your way and I'll order take out for us"

AnxiousAttachment!Jason who would rather die all over again than make himself look like a burden. His pesky little brain telling him that you'll leave if he does

"Jay, you gotta relax baby, you're injured. I got it taken care of." You try to tell him. But he insists "No, it's fine. I can still get up and help. I gotta get up and help" "because if I don't, you'll leave"

AnxiousAttachment!Jason who cries to you in bed in the dead of night where no one else can hear his anguish or ghosts from his past

"Just don't leave me, please. I know I'm not perfect, hell - I'm not even good - but please. You're my everything. I love you more than anything else in my worthless life." He sobs into your lap as you hold him when his anxiety gets the better of him. You've learned that what he needs is soft reassurances, gentle touches.

"I'm not going anywhere, Jay, I promise. I'm still here, aren't I?"

AnxiousAttachment!Jason who is just so emotionally draining to be with

[whore4romance]

I feel very attacked rn but that’s besides the point. Point is id fucking adore the shit out of my man if he was as clingy and attached as I am. Like yes bombard me with messages that you miss me while I’m out with friends. Yes come and break in my window to cuddle me in the dead of night because you need reassurance. Yes I’ll do anything for you baby because I love you and I’m never going anywhere cuz I’d cry and throw up at the thought of you leaving me too🥰🤤😭

[boolger]

“You get your ass down again!” You snapped at him, pointing to the ground, “down!”

For a moment Simon wanted to point out that he wasn’t a dog, but your anger was so fucking hot that he felt himself chub up. His eyes flickered to look over at his team for half a second, visible in the light from the pub, before a small smile on his lips appeared. Then he dutifully let himself fall down on his knees again; he was still tall like this but you were a bit taller though not much.

“Was it or was it not a deal?” You asked, arms crossed, leaning forward a bit. Simon had to fucking focus to not look at your tits.

“‘Was a deal, ma’am,” he dutifully answered looking up at you, unable to keep himself for smiling a tiny bit, “‘m sorry.”

He didn’t care if the entire parking lot of the pub watched him like this, it only turned him on. He licked his lips for a moment, taking in your frown and slight shaking. He loved you like this. A part of him almost wanted to act out just a bit more.

“Well it’s no help now, is it?” You muttered before rolling your eyes, turning around and waving at him, “go say bye to your friends, then.”

Fuck, if he hadn’t already married you, he would do it.

He watched you open the door to the car and slam it shut, which meant he didn’t have long before you would go. Simon wasn’t planning on wasting any time. He got up, gave the team a wave and dutifully crawled into the car on the passenger seat while you sat behind the wheel.

“Lemme fuck ya, luv,” he immediately offered, “in the back, please, show ya how sorry I am.”

“You’re drunk.” You merely answered.

“Half a pint.”

“No more?”

“Nope, swear it. Can call Cap to confirm it.” He knew you trusted his captain fully just like he did.

“Hmpf.”

He leaned over, kissing up your neck with a soft sigh.

“Missed ya.”

“I was just out grocery shopping.” You grumbled though you didn’t sound as mad as you did just a bit earlier.

“Yeah, but I got lonely.”

“Could have bloody called me, you twat, didn’t have to go to the fucking pub.”

"C'mon baby,” Simon crooned, biting the tip of your ear for a moment, “lemme show ya how much I missed ya.”

“… I’m not getting fucked in the backseat of our car, I’m angry.”

Mere moments later Simon was eating you out, after you drove into a darker spot of the parking lot. Your legs were swung over his shoulders, your back on the seats. Even though he had to curl up a little to not hit the ceiling, Simon didn’t complain one bit. How could he, when you were tugging on his short hair, forcing him to eat you out however you wanted? You were still a little mean, but Simon found it hot. The fact you had made him go onto his knees in the fucking parking lot, fuck.

He fucked you so hard the entire car shook with each thrust and he had to cover your mouth so you would alert the whole neighbourhood with your moans.

“My pretty girl,” he panted into your neck, as he covered your body with his own, grabbing onto the door handle to keep himself upright, fucking into you with his hard, sharp thrusts, “my mean, strict wife.”

You made a sound beneath his palm, perhaps disagreeing with his comment but he nailed your sweet spot then, making you wail with pleasure instead. He would go on his knees for you any day. They could be bruised and bloody but he wouldn’t hesitate if you told him to do it.

[whore4romance]

Something about a man on his knees for me just gets me going AHHH🥰 yes indulge my little temper tantrums then put me in my place🤤

[swanndxarest]

𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 "𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥." 𝐈𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝-𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐭-𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐞. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞.

[whore4romance]

It’s either all or nothing with me

[yeah-iveheardofbears]

motel afterglow

pairing: virgin!eddie munson x virgin!reader

summary: in the late night, post-concert rush, you and your best friend share more than just secrets in the dark...

wc: 6.7k

tw: best friends to lovers, loss of virginity (both m and f), explicit smut, p in v protected, eddie eats pussy because of course he does, hand jobs, mentions of bullying, tiny miscommunication, eddie has the nerdiest dirty talk but it works, very retro us of the word porno, sex toy mention, masturbation, fluff fluff fluff,

love notes: hi my munson loving babes, i'm back with another nerdy dirty talk filled oneshot! i wrote this the other day and never posted it. its from combining a couple of older drink order requests that were similar:

i'm a decrepit old lady (lol), so it's been a long time since i've been a virgin, so i hope i did this justice. it's definitely full of fluff and awkwardness

masterlist | consider buying me ko-fi

The motel room you guys could afford was exactly how you'd imagined it would be. Expensive enough to not be infested, but cheap enough that the sheets felt like tissue paper. 

Indianapolis had been loud. Loud enough that your ears still rang a little.

Your concert ticket was crumpled on the nightstand next to Eddie’s rings and a couple stray guitar picks he’d emptied from his pocket. Evidence of the night scattered everywhere. A denim jacket tossed over the back of the chair. Your boots kicked off near the door. Two plastic cups from the gas station down the road sweating onto the dresser.

The bed itself was small. Technically speaking, it was a full, but the mattress dipped badly in the middle, which meant there had never really been a question about whether you’d end up sharing space.

Eddie lay on his back beside you, one arm tucked under his head, the other resting loosely across his stomach. His hair was still a little wild from the humidity outside the venue, curls spreading over the faded motel pillow.

“You’re still smiling,” he said into the dim room.

“I am not.”

“You are,” he insisted, turning his head toward you. “You’ve been smiling since the encore.”

You rolled onto your side to face him, the thin motel blanket shifting between you. “That was a good encore.”

Eddie huffed a soft laugh. “It was an amazing encore.”

For a moment neither of you spoke. The muffled sound of a car passing on the highway filled the silence, headlights briefly sweeping across the ceiling through the gap in the curtains.

You became very aware of how close he was.

Close enough that you could see the faint crease between his brows when he squinted at you. Close enough that if either of you moved even a little, your knees would bump under the blanket.

“You know,” Eddie said after a second, voice quieter now, “most people after a concert like that would be out cold.”

“And miss the post-show analysis?” you said. “Never.”

“This is why you’re my favorute,” he murmured.

But he didn’t look away.

The quiet stretched between you, the small motel room seemed to shrink around the bed, until it felt like the rest of the world had slipped somewhere down the highway and left the two of you stranded in the middle of it.

"Well," you finally broke the silence. "As much as I hate that Gareth fractured his ankle, there would have been no way we'd all be able to sleep in this motel room together. So I guess it worked out money wise."

It was supposed to be the three of you on this little weekend road trip, but Gareth had gotten drunk and hopped on a picnic table one too many times before the show and had spent the evening in an emergency room getting a cast. You and Eddie had still gone.

"Yeah well, I came close to getting my own bones broken when he fell on top of me the second time." Eddie rolled his eyes with a huff of laughter. 

"Almost had to go all by myself and deal with my metal-induced euphoria alone."

"Perish the thought," Eddie said, a smile touching his lips. "I'm a vital part of your euphoria management system."

You watched the slow way he blinked, the way his lashes swept down against his cheek. 

"Eddie," you said, and you didn't know what you were going to say after that, only that you were going to say something.

But he was already moving, shifting onto his side too, facing you fully. The motion sent the mattress dipping again, bringing you even closer. The worn denim of your jeans brushed against the worn denim of his.

“Yeah?” he breathed out.

You opened your mouth to speak but pushed the thought aside and instead blurted out:

"I don't have pajamas." 

He gave you a confused look at the weird way you said it but then nodded slowly.

"Me neither."

You shifted your legs a bit, pulling your knees up closer to your body.

"I don't want to sleep in my jeans." 

"Yeah, I wasn't planning on that either." 

You raise an eyebrow and he goes on. "So...we could sleep in our underwear. I could look away for a second so you can get under the covers first. 

You think about the black thong you have on.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm not really wearing underwear underwear."

"Uh... what?" He looked lost.

You took a breath.

"I'm wearing a thong."

He didn't say anything at all. Just kind of stared at you like you'd just announced you could fly. Then a slow flush started creeping up his neck.

"Oh," he managed after a solid ten seconds of silence.

"I could use my shirt to cover the top half. But still..." you trailed off. "My ass would be out." 

"Yeah... I uh, know how a thong works," he managed.

You just blinked at him. You hadn't meant for the conversation to go in this direction but now it was here and you didn't know how to get it back.

He swallowed, and you watched the movement of his throat in the dim light.

"Okay," he said, after a beat that felt longer than the entire opening act. "I mean, I'm not going to make you sleep in your jeans. That's a special kind of torture. So we can... you know. Do the underwear thing. I'll face the wall. And I swear on all my Judas Priest records I won't turn around."

You searched his face, the earnestness you found there making your chest feel tight.

"Right. Okay." 

You each get up from your respective sides and undress. Eddie kept true to his word, but you still felt the heat of knowing he was just a few feet away.

You slip under the thin covers and wait.

"Okay, done. You're good."

He turned around and got in. His briefs were black too, and hung low on his hips. He had also taken his makeshift tank top off and was only in his boxers.

"You're shirtless." You say as he pauses, halfway into the bed. 

"Uh... yeah? I don't usually wear a shirt to bed..." He trails off like he's just realized what you'd said. "Is that... is that okay?"

You just nodded.

He slid the rest of the way in and pulled the covers up.

There was a lot less space between you now. You could feel the warmth radiating off his skin, could see the way the dim light caught the tattoos scattered across his chest.

"You've seen me shirtless before, sweetheart. It's not some revolutionary event," he said, a note of humor in his voice.

"I've never been in a bed with you while you were shirtless. Different experience entirely."

"Right," he said, and then softer, "Well I've never been in bed with a girl and her ass cheeks were out, so I think we're even." 

"I told you not to look!" You shrieked, hitting him with a pillow.

"Hey! I said I didn't!" he laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "I'm a virgin not a monk, I can visualize what a thong entails." 

He says it so casually that you almost don't catch it. 

"...What?" 

"Okay..." he tries to backtrack. "I don't mean I'm visualizing your ass in the thong. Just an ass. Like a generic woman ass in--" 

"You're a virgin?" You cut him off.

The pillow fell from your grasp as you stared at him.

His whole body went tense.

The laugh had vanished from his face. He looked away from you, staring at the water-stained patch on the ceiling. He swallowed hard enough that you could see the muscles in his throat work.

"Uh... yeah." It comes out as a resigned whisper almost. Like, for once, he has nothing in his wordsmith arsenal to deflect.

You were too quiet.

And then your face did a weird thing that you couldn't quite control. Your eyebrows shot up and your lips parted and it wasn't bad. It wasn't mocking or judgmental.

It was just... shocked.

"Really?"

And for some reason, the simple, unadorned disbelief in your voice seemed to be exactly the wrong thing to say.

"Jesus, what, is that so hard to believe?" The words came out sharp, stung. He pushed himself up on one elbow, creating a sudden, unwelcome distance between you. "The freak, the dungeon master, the guy who sells drugs to kids isn't exactly a girl's fantasy. Don't tell me you're surprised."

"No! Eddie that's not what I meant at all!" You quickly try to sit up, while still keeping covered as well, but the blanket bunches weirdly around your waist and you feel even more exposed than before. "It's just... you're so..."

"So what?" He was genuinely agitated now, the vulnerable admission curdling into something defensive and angry.

"So... confident," you finished quietly. "You're always so... loud. And you command a room. And you're funny. And... I don't know. I just assumed..."

He stared at you, his chest rising and falling a little too fast. The anger seemed to drain out of him as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a deep-seated exhaustion.

"Being able to work a room doesn't mean you know what the hell to do when you're alone in a dark one with someone," he said, the words barely audible.

Silence crashed back into the room. This was heavier, weighted with things unsaid. You reached out, your fingers hovering just above the space between you, unsure if touching him would make it better or worse.

"And, let's be honest, if a girl is alone with me in a dark room, she's more likely to piss herself with the worry I'm going to sacrifice her to Satan, than be wet in any other way."

You scrunch your nose up at his verbiage. 

"Okay, one: ew. Two? Not true. Three?" You took a breath, deciding to throw caution to the wind. "I'm alone with you in a dark room. Piss free."

He blinked. "Thats different. You're not like, a girl." 

It was, in fact, now his turn to say the exact wrong thing. The tension that had just begun to dissolve returned twofold.

Your jaw set. "Right. I'm not. My mistake."

He scrambled, his words tripping over each other. "No, that's not what I-- Fuck. I mean, you're you. You're my friend. It's not... it's not like that. It's safe."

"Wow. Safe. That's every girl's dream. To be the safe, unfuckable friend."

You flopped back onto the pillow, turning your back to him with a huff. You pulled the blanket up to your chin, a thin, flimsy shield. You could feel the heat of anger and embarrassment prickling at your skin.

"Woah, woah, that's not what I meant either! I'm just... bad at this," he pleaded, his voice a strained whisper. The mattress shifted as he moved closer, a careful, hesitant movement. You could feel the warmth of his hand hovering over your shoulder, not quite touching. "I've never talked about this before. I mean, you know damn well none of the Hellfire guys are getting any. And I'm pretty sure they think I'm some kind of dark lord of getting laid. It's just... a lie. A story I tell. It's easier than the truth."

You stayed silent, staring at the ugly floral pattern on the wall. You could hear his breathing, ragged and uneven.

"And you're not... you're not unfuckable," he said, the words so quiet you almost had to strain to hear them. "You're... very fucka- I mean, you're... you know. You're great."

The clumsy, earnest correction almost made you smile. Almost.

"Look at me," he murmured. "Please?"

Slowly, you rolled back over.

His face was a mess of conflicting emotions in the dim light. The defensive sneer was gone, replaced by something more vulnerable.

"'Great' is what a teacher puts on your paper when you get a B+." You say, your voice small.

He let out a shaky breath, a sound that was half-laugh, half-despair. "Okay. You're right. You're not 'great' like a B+." He searched for the right words, his gaze flicking between your eyes. "You're... you're the solo in 'Master of Puppets'. You're the part of a song that's so good it makes you pull the car over. You're... the kind of thing that makes a guy want to learn guitar in the first place."

Your breath caught. That was not what you were expecting.

"Eddie..."

"No, I mean it," he pushed on, a desperate urgency in his tone now. "And being around you is... it's easy. Too easy. And then I get in my head about it. About saying the wrong thing. About being a disappointment. So I deflect. I make stupid jokes. I turn myself into the D&D nerd or the Satanist freak or--" 

"I'm a virgin too." The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them, a quiet confession that hung in the air between you.

The torrent of words from Eddie stopped. His jaw went slack. He stared at you, wide-eyed, as if you'd just confessed to being a secret agent.

"What?" he finally managed to breathe out. "I thought you lost it to that guy from the photography club."

"Tyler?" You couldn't help the small, humorless laugh that escaped. "No. We went on, like, three dates. He tried to stick his tongue down my throat in the back of the movie theater and then practically begged for a handjob in the parking lot. It was... underwhelming."

Eddie was still just staring, processing.

"Shit. Well, now I can tell you that I really hated that guy. For more reasons than just his terrible haircut."

A real smile finally touched your lips at that. "His haircut was pretty bad."

The silence that followed was different. It wasn't heavy or awkward. It was... quiet. A shared space.

"I didn't tell you because I was embarrassed," you admitted, your gaze fixed on a loose thread on the pillowcase. "I figured you like... I don't know, banged girls in your van after shows or something. I felt... left behind. Like everyone was growing up and doing all this stuff and I was just... still me."

"Sweetheart," he said, his voice soft. "I'm far from the van-banging king. I'm the guy who is currently panicking because he's shirtless in a bed with a girl in a thong and doesn't know the social protocol for what to do with his hands."

"So you admit I'm a girl now?" you teased, a glimmer of your usual self returning.

His eyes softened, and a slow, genuine smile spread across his face. It was the kind of smile that reached his eyes, crinkling the corners. "I've unfortunately been way too aware of that distinction for a while now."

"Unfortunately?" You raise a playful eyebrow.

"Because it was a lot easier to think of you as just... you. My friend. My partner in crime. The person I could talk to about whether Kirk Hammett was a better guitarist than Slash without getting a blank stare. Thinking of you as a girl? A girl I'm in bed with? That's... terrifying."

You feel a warmth spread through your chest that has nothing to do with the flimsy blanket. "Why terrifying?"

"Because I'm bad at this!" he exclaimed, gesturing vaguely between you. "This entire conversation is a testament to that! I say 'safe' and you hear 'unfuckable.' I say 'girl' and I sound like a caveman. The margin for error here is huge. And the thought of messing this up... with you..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"Messing what up?" you whispered.

His gaze dropped from your eyes to your lips, and back again. The room suddenly felt a thousand degrees hotter. He swallowed, and the motion was so deliberate, so loaded with unspoken meaning, it made your breath hitch.

"You know what. Don't make me say it," he murmured, his voice raspy.

He was so close now. The dip in the mattress had eliminated all but the slimmest of gaps between you. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek.

"I think I want you to say it," you breathed back. 

"Not going to." His smile was back, but it was different now. Shyer. More hesitant. But no less real. "I've said enough stupid things for one night."

Instead of explaining more, he started to lean in.

Slowly. Giving you every opportunity to pull away, to turn back to the wall, to put a stop to it.

But you didn't stop it. 

Not when his hand came up to cradle your face. 

Not when he used his thumb to gently trace your jawline, the rough callus on his finger a pleasant rasp against your skin.

Not when he finally, finally closed the last remaining distance between you and his lips met yours.

It wasn't a perfect kiss. It was a little clumsy at first, a misalignment of angles that ended in a soft, wet press against the corner of your mouth.

You giggled a little, ready to say something cheeky, but he didn't give you the chance. He tilted his head and tried again.

And the second one was perfect.

It was soft and tentative, the taste of a gas station slushie. The sigh he let out against your lips, a sound of pure, unadulterated relief, settled right in your core. 

His hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. The kiss deepened, a slow, gentle exploration that sent shivers down your spine.

You found your own courage then, your hand coming up to rest on the warm skin of his chest. He let out a soft hum of encouragement, and you let your fingers trail over the lines of his tattoos, the dark ink a stark contrast to his skin.

"Touch all you want." He murmurs against your lips before pressing another quick kiss to your lips and pulling back just enough to look at you.

His eyes were dark in the dim light, pupils blown wide. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that matched your own.

"Okay." You say quietly, letting your hand wander.

"Okay," he repeated, a dazed sort of smile on his face. "Okay."

He was still looking at you, a deep searching look that seemed to be trying to memorize every detail of your face.

"You're staring."

"Can't help it," he murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. Your hands are all over him now, touching anything they can reach. His shoulders, his biceps, the small of his back. And he was doing the same. His hands were everywhere, tracing the curve of your spine, the dip of your waist, the soft skin of your thighs above the line of the thong.

He froze for a second when his fingers brushed against the string of your underwear.

You hold back a small laugh as your hand travels to grab his ass a little, the soft cotton of his briefs giving way to the firm muscle beneath.

"Hey!" He yelped, jumping a little.

"You said I could touch all I wanted." You say with a sly grin. "Don't be shy."

He stared at you for a second before a slow grin spread across his face. "Yeah, okay. Fair's fair."

His hands grew bolder then, sliding down to cup the fat of your ass, pulling you flush against him. The thin fabric of your thong and his briefs was the only thing separating you.

He kisses you harder this time, a hungry, desperate kiss that stole the air from your lungs. His hips rocked against yours, a slow, deliberate friction that had you gasping into his mouth.

He was hard. You could feel him. 

"Eddie," you breathed out, his name a plea on your lips.

"That okay?" His voice soft as his lips travel over your jaw and down your neck. "How I'm touching you?"

You could only nod, words failing you. He seemed to take that as an invitation to continue. He nipped at the sensitive skin of your throat, making you whimper. His hands were still on your ass, kneading the flesh, pulling you closer as he rolls his hips against yours.

You were the one to reach for the hem of your shirt.

He pulls away, breathless.

"Wait. You sure?" He's searching your face again, looking for any sign of hesitation. "You don't have to."

You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks. "Do you... not want to see me?" The words were small, laced with an insecurity you hated.

He looked like you'd just slapped him.

"No! God, no." He shook his head, a look of pure panic on his face. "That's not... I mean, I do. I really, really do. I just... I don't want you to think you have to. Because of... all this."

He gestures to his erection and then to the two of you in the bed. "He's kind of an idiot, and he has terrible ideas about timing."

"I kinda like his timing." You said, your hands back on his chest. "And I want to." You slowly lift the shirt over your head and toss it onto the floor with your jeans.

Eddie went completely still, his eyes wide, fixed on your chest.

"I knew you didn't wear a bra. I could tell," he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. "When you were jumping during the concert."

"Really?" You couldn't help but feel a little pleased.

"Oh yeah." He reached out a hesitant hand, like he was afraid you might disappear. "I was trying very hard to be a gentleman and not stare. But I failed. Miserably."

You let out a soft laugh as his fingers finally made contact, tracing the curve of your breast. His thumb was quick to find your nipple, brushing over it in a way that sent a jolt of pure pleasure straight to your core.

"Look at these pretty things." He murmured as he leaned down to take one in his mouth.

The feel of his tongue, hot and wet, against your sensitive skin was enough to make you arch your back, a gasp torn from your lips. He used his free hand to grip you ass hard, pulling you on top of him while his lips still wrapped around your nipple.

You were straddling him now, your knees on either side of his hips. The thin fabric of your thong and his briefs was soaked, the friction of him against you, even through the layers of clothes, was intoxicating.

You couldn't help the way your hips started to move, a slow, grinding rhythm that had you both gasping for breath.

"Can't believe you're wet for me," he said, his voice laced with a kind of awestruck disbelief. He lifted you up and adjusted you to where he could feel you better, a small moan leaving his lips at the contact.

"Can't believe you're this big," you shot back, more of a sigh than a statement. 

"Yeah? You like that?" The words were a low growl against your skin as he lavished your other nipple with attention.

"Mhm..." You could only manage a small hum, your mind going hazy with pleasure.

He's so hard. So hard that it's almost painful. You needed to feel him. All of him. You started to reach for the waistband of his briefs, but he stopped you, his hand covering yours.

"Hey, no." His breath hitched. "Not yet. Let me... let me do something for you first."

Before you could ask what he meant, he was shifting you, maneuvering you until you were on your back and he was settled between your thighs. He pushed your legs apart with a gentle pressure of his hands. And then he was leaning down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his breath warm against your skin.

You could only nod, your throat too tight to speak. He moved higher, pressing a trail of open-mouthed kisses up your inner thigh, stopping just short of where you desperately wanted him.

"You really want to?" Your own surprise at the question was evident.

"I've been dreaming about this," he admitted, his voice a raw, honest confession. "For a long, long time."

And then he was there, his tongue sliding against the fabric of your thong. The wet heat of him through the thin lace was almost enough to send you over the edge.

"Oh god... no wonder girls like this in pornos." Your legs start to shake a little as your hands find their way into his hair.

"You watch pornos?" He looks up at you from between your legs, a slow grin spreading across his face. "My dirty girl."

He didn't wait for an answer, just hooked his fingers into the sides of your thong and pulled it down your legs. He tossed it over his shoulder, and it landed somewhere in the vicinity of your discarded shirt.

"I feel like I'm supposed to pray to this," he said, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Like a holy relic."

You let out a shaky laugh. "D&D references aren't exactly what I'm looking for right now, Eddie."

"No? So you don't like my DM voice? 'You enter a beautiful, damp cavern... the walls are slick with moisture...'" He was  on you then, his tongue finally, finally making contact with your pussy. The feeling was so intense, so overwhelming, you couldn't help but cry out.

His hands gripped your thighs, holding you open for him as he explored you with a desperate, hungry curiosity.

"Guide me," he mumbled against your folds. "I don't know what you like. Tell me."

"Your... your tongue," you gasped out. "On my clit. When I... touch myself I just focus there... "

He hummed in acknowledgement, and then he was following your directions, his tongue finding that sensitive bundle of nerves and circling it with a slow, deliberate pressure. He was a quick study, and it wasn't long before you were writhing beneath him, your hands fisted in his hair, your hips bucking against his face.

"Mmm, feels so much better than my fingers." You whined, the pleasure coiling tight in your belly. He was good. So, so good. Better than you had ever imagined. And you had imagined this. A lot.

He pulled back for a second, his chin shining with your arousal. "Show me how you do it," he said, his voice thick with desire. "Show me what you like."

You hesitated for a beat, the vulnerability of the request hitting you. But then you looked at him, at the open, eager expression on his face, and you couldn't deny him anything.

You reached down between your legs, your fingers finding your clit easily. You started to rub slow circles, the motion practiced, familiar.

"God..." He groans. "You ever think about me? When you do this?"

Your fingers stutter. You look down at him, at the hope and the lust warring in his eyes.

"Only since last year," you said, your voice barely a whisper. "When you wore that ripped t-shirt to the fair. I could see your... happy trail..." 

He just stared, completely floored.

"Fucking Christ..." He pinched his eyes shut as he palmed himself through his boxers before he dived back in with a new enthusiasm.

He watched you for a moment, and then he joined in, his tongue prodding your entrance and licking at your fingers as you pleasured yourself. It was a messy, clumsy, and incredibly erotic sight.

"Fuck, Eddie, I'm so close," you moaned, your hips moving in a frantic rhythm against his tongue and your own hand.

He redoubled his efforts, nudging your hands away with his nose and sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue. It was the final push you needed, and you came with a cry, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

He didn't stop, not right away. He kept licking you, his tongue gentle now, soothing you through the aftershocks. It was as if he just loved your taste, greedy for more. Finally, he pulled back, a look of pure, unadulterated pride on his face.

He crawled up your body and kissed you then, a messy kiss that tasted of your release.

"Damn, I'm gonna get addicted to that," he murmured against your lips.

You just hummed in response, your body still buzzing with pleasure. You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, a demanding presence.

"Let me..." you started, your hands trailing down his chest to the waistband of his briefs. "Let me return the favor."

"Yeah?" His eyebrows raise.

You answered by tugging the briefs down, freeing him. He kicked them off the rest of the way, and then he was completely naked, the dim light of the motel room casting him in a warm glow. He was beautiful.

He knelt between your legs, giving you a perfect view. He was long and thick, the head flushed a dark pink, a bead of precum glistening at the tip.

"I've never seen a real one in person," you confessed, your voice filled with awe.

He flushed a little, a rosy blush spreading across his chest. "Well, it's not going to win any awards. It's pretty standard issue."

"It's bigger than my dildo," you blurted out, then immediately regretted it.

Eddie's head tilted, a slow, wicked grin spreading across his face. "You have a dildo?" He leaned in, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "I'm learning a lot about your sexy habits tonight."

"I'm a virgin, not a nun." You said defensively, a call back to his confession earlier.

"I know. I'm not judging. I'm celebrating." He kissed you again, a quick, hard press of his lips. "Now, were you about to do something?"

You reached out and wrapped your hand around him. He was hot and hard, the smooth skin a stark contrast to how rigid he was. He let out a sharp hiss of breath, his hips jerking forward.

You started to stroke him, twisting your wrist on the upstroke, the way you'd read about in a magazine.

"Jesus, that's... yeah," he groaned, his head falling back. "Just like that."

You watched him, mesmerized by the way his face contorted with pleasure. The way he was so open and unashamed of it.

"You know, when you said the thing about your... toy," he said, his breath hitching as you ran your thumb over the head of his cock, spreading the wetness there. "Am I really bigger?"

You smiled, a genuine, sly smile. "Considerably."

"Fuck." He seemed genuinely pleased by this information. "That's... good to know. For my ego."

He watched you for a few more moments, your hand working him with a steady rhythm. Then he reached down, stilling your movements.

"Okay, stop," he breathed, his voice strained. "I'm not going to last if you keep doing that."

You looked up at him, a question in your eyes.

"I want..." He swallowed hard. "I wanna be inside you."

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning.

"We won't be virgins anymore." You say, soft and immediately feeling stupid for it. Of course he knew that.

His expression softened. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. "I know." He was so close, you could feel the frantic beat of his heart against your chest.

"I want that," you said, your voice firm. "With you."

He let out a long, shuddering breath, as if he'd been holding it for an eternity.

"Is it weird I'm nervous? I feel like that's weird for a guy." He admitted.

"It's not weird." You promised. "I don't think nerves are gendered."

He kissed you then, a slow, deep kiss that was full of all the things he couldn't seem to say. All the want and the hope and the fear. He only broke the kiss, to reach over the other side of the bed and fumbled in the pocket of his discarded jeans.

"I swear I keep this in my wallet all the time. Not because I was expecting... well this." He said as he pulled out a little foil square.

The crinkle of the wrapper was the only sound in the room. He tore it open with shaky fingers and rolled the condom on with an efficiency that belied his earlier fumbling.

He settled back over you, his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in.

"I can't believe I'm going to have sex with you." You whisper, looking into those consuming brown eyes, your fingers tracing the dimples that start to form when he smiles down at you. 

"Me either," he said, and there was such a raw, honest wonder in his voice that it made your chest ache. "If I'm being totally honest? I'm pretty sure this is a lucid dream I'm having after eating all that bad gas station pizza."

You laughed, a bright, happy sound that filled the small room.

"It's real." You promised.

"Okay." He takes a deep breath. "Okay."

He positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock nudging against your wet folds. He paused, looking at you one last time, giving you a final chance to change your mind.

You answered by wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

He pushed a little inside you with a slow, steady pressure.

It was a strange, unfamiliar sensation. A stretching, aching fullness that bordered on pain. You couldn't help the small whimper that escaped your lips.

He stopped immediately, his whole body tensing. "You okay? Am I hurting you?"

"Are you all the way in?" You asked, your breath hitching.

He shook his head. "Not even close. You okay?"

You nod. "It's a lot. Keep going."

He pushed a little deeper, a slow, inch-by-inch invasion that made you feel like your body was being remade to fit him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and he kissed up your neck and over your face. Each new press of his lips a welcome distraction from the dull ache between your legs.

He finally was all the way in, his hips flush against yours. He stilled, giving you a moment to adjust.

"Okay." You breathe out.

"You okay?" He repeated against your lips, breathless from his own pleasure. 

"Yeah just... don't move too much yet."

"You feel so... incredible. It's..." He trails off as he shifts a bit, pulling just out a little and pushing back in.

You both groan. The pain started to fade then, replaced by a different kind of ache. A deep, throbbing need.

"Okay," you breathed, your fingers tightening in his hair. "Okay, you can move."

He started to move then, a slow, gentle rocking motion that was worlds away from the frantic rutting from earlier. Each thrust was a hesitant exploration.

You moved with him, your hips rising to meet his, your body learning the rhythm of his.

"Sweetheart..." It came out as a mix of a groan and a whine, you've never heard him sound sexier.

He started to move faster, a little harder, his control starting to fray. He was panting against your neck, his breath hot and damp. His hands were everywhere, on your breasts, your hips, your ass. 

"Eddie... talk to me..." You whine as he hits a spot deep inside you that made you see stars.

"What do you want me to say?" he gasped, his hips snapping against yours.

"Anything... dirty talk... something... my ears..."

He let out a shaky laugh, a sound that was half-arousal, half-nervousness before leaning down into your ear. "You feel so good. So tight. All I've thought about for the last year is what it would feel like to be inside you."

You moaned. You felt your pussy clench around him, your body responding to the dirty words. He pulled back to watch your face, a look of pure, unadulterated lust on his face.

"Yeah? Want me to keep going? Tell you how I've jacked off to the thought of your tits?"

You could only nod, your words lost in a haze of pleasure.

"Or maybe it was your ass. In those tight jeans you wear. God, the things I wanted to do to you." He punctuated the words with a particularly hard thrust that made you cry out. "Wanna kiss you until you're dripping for me. And I did tonight. Dripping all over my tongue."

His words were filthier than you ever would have imagined, and it was pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"You're so wet for me. You're taking my cock so well." He groans, his forehead resting against yours. "You're all I want. Just... you."

The last words were a raw, honest confession that went straight to your heart. You were the one to kiss him then, a desperate, messy kiss that was all teeth and tongue and need.

"Touch yourself again," he practically begged against your lips. "Please, I love seeing it." He didn't want to finish before you did. And he also liked watching.

You didn't hesitate, your hand snaking down between your bodies to find your clit. You started to rub in tight, fast circles, the dual stimulation of him inside you and your fingers on your clit almost too much to bear.

"Its too good, Eddie." You whine, a high pitched desperate sound he's never heard you make.

"Let go," he commanded, his voice rough and hoarse. "Let me feel your pussy wreck me."

His words were the final push you needed. You came with a strangled cry, your body arching off the bed, your inner walls clamping down on him. The force of your orgasm was enough to send him over the edge too, and with a hoarse shout of your name, he came, his hips pistoning into you as he emptied himself into the condom.

He collapsed next to you, both of you panting, your bodies slick with sweat. The room was silent, save for the sound of your ragged breaths and the ancient motel air conditioner.

After a long moment, he propped himself up on an elbow and looked at you, a slow, dazed smile spreading across his face.

"If you don't want to be my girlfriend after this, I think I might actually die."

You laugh, reaching up to push a damp curl away from his forehead. "Well, we can't have that."

He leaned down and kissed you, a soft, sweet kiss that was a world away from the frantic, hungry kisses from before.

"So... is that a yes?" he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Are you going to go easier on me during Hellfire?" You counter.

"Never." He grins. "You have to earn your honor just like everyone else."

"Then yes," you said, and the word felt like a promise. "Yes, I'll be your girlfriend."

He looked so happy you thought your heart might burst. He kissed you again, and again, and again, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

"Gonna 'kiss me till I'm dripping'?" You tease, your fingers tracing the lines of his collarbones.

"Very funny. Give me ten minutes and another slice of that gas station pizza," he mumbled against your skin, making you laugh.

He eventually got up to dispose of the condom, and you took the opportunity to look at him. Really look at him. The long, lean lines of his body, the scattering of tattoos, the way his hair curled in all directions. He was yours.

He came back to the bed and pulled you into his arms, your head resting on his chest. You could feel the steady, reassuring beat of his heart.

"I'm never going to get tired of this," he said, his voice a soft rumble in his chest. "Of you."

You tilted your head up to look at him. "Me neither."

You lay like that for a while, a comfortable, easy silence settling over you. The events of the night replayed in your mind, not just the concert or the sex, but everything beautiful that had happened in this small, ugly motel room.

[whore4romance]

Enough to make a grown woman cry bro this is beautiful I normally don’t care for longer fics really but this one just kept pulling me in I couldn’t put it down🥰💕

[callsignhare]

Now imagine Ghost getting captured during an op and ending up in an intense interrogation.

Maybe torture session would be more accurate. He gets beaten, starved, even electrocuted. But he never breaks. He's too loyal to his team, and he fully trusts them to get him out of that hell hole.

There's also you. His poor, innocent little wifey sitting at home, probably worried sick. It infuriates him more than anything that he's being kept away from you. He'd take a thousand more beatings as long as he got to assure you everything will be alright.

Softly staring or toying with his wedding ring is the only way to keep himself sane in between bouts of the mistreatment. He imagines how good it will feel when he gets back to you, how you'll hold onto him with all your strength. He thinks about your scent, the texture of your skin, the silhouette of your body.

After a week and a half with no progress on the side of his captors, it seems they're getting more desperate. All it really takes is Ghost being the slightest bit unsubtle one time when he brushes the ring on his finger for an idea to arise.

He refuses to let it show outwardly, but he's just about ready to break down sobbing and/or kill everyone within a mile radius, as his captor casually chats about the ring.

Got a little lady at home? She must miss you so bad. How about we pay her a visit? Get you two reacquainted?

The man sits down in front of him, slowly pulling out a knife. His expression is gleeful, which can't mean anything good for Ghost.

He tries with all his might to wiggle away as his captor moves his ring a little further up his finger, although he doesn't take it off fully. This isn't about the ring, it's about the entire finger.

Ghost nearly bites through his tongue as his ring finger is sliced off with a knife that's dull enough to make it take a while. He watches in tears as suddenly he's not wearing his ring anymore. The anchor of his sanity, the blessing you'd given him that beautiful day, gone just like that. He watches in despair as his detached finger gets picked up like a coin off the street, a small satisfaction to the man he swear to tear limb from limb the moment he gets out of his restraints.

But it couldn't just stop there. No, that would be too merciful. As if it's nothing, the process gets repeated on his other ring finger as well. For the first time since his childhood, Simon considers begging. Losing the finger he held your ring on was one thing, to lose even the chance to move it to the other one is downright cruel. Even if he logically knows there is much worse physical trauma they could inflict on him, this is mentally the most painful. It feels like breaking his vows, ones he took as, if not more, seriously than any op he'd ever been on.

The rest of his stay in that bunker is a blur. Without the physical reminder of his home, he feels like there isn't much time left for him. Either they'll finally fully break him physically or he will surely fall apart mentally. Every time he tries to reach out for his ring, he feels bile rise in his throat. Add to that the growing anxiety that they are going to find you and take you there too, and he isn't able to get any rest anymore in between visits from the monster who did this to him.

The day the Taskforce finds him feels like nothing but a dream. In a haze, they untie him, Price kindly pulling a balaclava over his bared face. It should feel like a homecoming, back in the security of privacy, but he's still too out of it to care. Regardless, a gun gets pressed into his hands and he knows what he must do.

He doesn't let himself escape until he finds the man responsible for the brunt of his pain. He shoots him in the shoulder, disarming the fucker so he can get what he wants.

Where is my ring?

Ghost is lucky enough that the guy still has it in his vest, simply forgotten in there as if it isn't even worth a nickel.

He stares at it for a while once it's back in his possession, nearly breaking down all over again as he realizes he doesn't know what to do with it now. Against the rumbling within his stomach that tells him it's wrong, he deposits it on his pointer finger instead. It's not a perfect fit anymore, but it's solid enough that it won't just slide off.

He shoots the guy in the knees for good measure, leaving him there to bleed out surrounded by the corpses of his teammates. It would be satisfying to do more, but Ghost finds it's not even worth it. It won't change anything.

He collapses the moment they reach the heli and doesn't wake back up until three days later, confined to a shitty hospital bed as they keep an eye on his well being. He's still a tad dizzy when he awakens, but not enough to not instantly recognize you where you're sitting by his side.

You all but leap into his arms when you notice he's awake and at last Simon can feel himself letting go of his suppressed emotions. With the little strength he has, he pulls you right on top of himself, sobbing into your shoulder as if this is all a dream that could vanish at any moment.

He doesn't notice he's apologizing until you pull back, shushing him with a soft smile. Still, he doesn't stop, wanting to make it clear that he would have rather died than been without that ring for even a second.

He finally stops when you, very softly, punch him in the chest. You're crying too, trying to explain how you couldn't give less of a fuck about a piece of metal as long as he came back home to you alive. You cup his face, telling him all the ways in which you missed him, in which you needed him, while he was gone.

You lay there together until you both tire yourself out from all the crying and love declarations.

[whore4romance]

Holy shit dude this is art! The emotions I felt reading this I felt like I was there watching this and that’s honestly very rare for me to do so I thought I’d reblog so everyone has a chance to read this amazing piece🥰

[planetary-corpse]

You and Simon have been dating for years now.

Your love life is amazing, the sex, even better.

He’s rough, and dominating, making you feel small and stupid in the best ways possible.

Allowing your thoughts to go quiet.

Tonight was a perfect night.

Well it was…

You lay in bed, your legs still shaking from the nth orgasm you had that night.

Your clothes are thrown, left forgotten somewhere in the corner of your shared room.

You’re completely alone.

Only for one reason.

Simon’s downstairs, grabbing you a glass of water after such a scene.

Tonight… he was rougher than usual.

Touching you with harsh hands, and speaking with mean words.

A look in his eye that you’ve never seen before.

Something that looked too closely to the way he would look at any other stranger.

It wasn’t much.

Just enough to make you wonder.

Enough to let thoughts spiral.

Enough to remember every command.

Every ache of your worn out body.

Your arms are littered in Simon’s fingerprints.

Bite marks throbbing on your shoulder and neck.

Your ass bright red from spankings.

You slowly roll over onto your side trying to relieve yourself of the sting.

It does little to help.

A small sound leaving your lips.

Did he mean it, when he called you a whore?

A piece of ass only meant to fuck?

Pathetic..?

Tears began to welt in your eyes before you knew what was happening. Your gaze fixed onto the wall.

The puddle forming under your cheek starts slow.

Quiet.

Simon walks back in, naked as the day he was born when his eyes find you.

He stops dead in his tracks.

You’re curled up on yourself, looking like a ghost.

You hear his steps quicken.

The glass clinks as it’s placed down.

His heart is racing in his chest as he approaches.

“Luvie…?”

His call is a whisper.

Your eyes slowly find his.

Cheeks beaten red, blotchy with tears.

His stomach drops.

“Y/n… talk to me.”

He sits down beside you, eyes scanning over your shaking form.

He knows something is wrong but doesn’t know what.

He didn’t do anything different tonight, not to his memory.

His hand lifts but hesitates, dropping back to his side.

“Are you okay.. did I hurt you?”

His voice wavers with concern.

Fear.

You can’t answer, your throat tightening at his worry.

Unable to meet his eyes, suddenly feeling guilty at your tears.

Your thoughts eat at you.

Were you being stupid?

Overdramatic?

Your mouth opens and only a broken sound comes out.

Simon reaches for his shirt sitting only a foot away, pulling it over your head.

You allow it, slipping your hands through the sleeves.

It’s big, like a dress on you.

Your eyes are still down in your lap.

He leans in, gently pulling your hair from your shirt without a word.

The gesture allows you to breathe.

Giving you some sense of security.

“M’ here luvie.. you can tell me anything.”

He whispers, his hand gently patting down your hair, soft like you’ll disappear if he touches you with too much pressure.

He’s close, but not suffocating you.

Giving you space to breathe, to process.

You’re quiet for a long moment. Leaning into the warmth of his hand as a comfort.

“Simon… you were.. really mean.”

You manage to get out, unable to look at him.

You pause the word feeling wrong on your tongue.

“Different..”

You choose instead.

He feels his blood run cold at your tone. So small, so unlike your bright self.

He begins to overthink, replaying everything he said, how he touched you.

His hand freezes on you for just a moment.

“My baby...”

His tone makes your eyes snap over to him.

His hand moves again, slowly moving down your cheek.

“I am so sorry… I never meant to hurt you..”

Even if he doesn’t fully understand, he knows enough.

“I was too rough on you..”

You wince as he gently caresses the inflamed skin he was once so rough to.

“May I.. hold you?”

His words come out small, hesitant to ask for more than he should.

You nod with a small sniffle.

He doesn’t wait a second.

Picking you up under your legs, pulling you into his warm chest.

His chin rests on top of your head as you breathe into him.

Your shoulders shaking with attempts to keep your cries in.

“It’s okay… let it out.”

He coos to you, his hand rubbing circles on your back. Big, slow motions. Warm and heavy on your clothed back.

Trying to apologize in every touch.

Every twitch of his fingers.

You breathe deeply, feeling like every pass of his hand only breaks the dam inside you further, until you just can’t take it.

You sob into him, loud and ugly.

Hiding your face into him as your entire body shakes.

He holds you tightly.

So tight, like he wants to pull you inside of him.

His heart pounding with worry.

God never again.

“M’ sorry… m’so sorry—“

You slur into his chest like a mantra.

His heart breaks a little.

He pulls you closer if that’s possible, murmuring in your hair.

“Shh..shh.. don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong.”

He replies, calm and soft.

His hands going to your scalp, gently massaging.

You’re close enough you can hear his heartbeat.

It’s fast.

Despite such, he continues.

“Breathe for me luv.. breathe.”

He coaches… You listen.

He rests his cheek on your head, taking a breath of your hair, reeling in you.

Holding you together.

“I’m the one that should be apologizing.. you should never feel like this.. not with me.”

So gently, like you’re made of porcelain, he tilts your head up, collecting your tears.

“You are everything to me, my world, my entire heart. I thought you wanted to feel small under me…”

He pauses kissing your temple.

“If you don’t want that, it’ll never happen again.”

You shake your head, cheek moving against his palm.

You take his hand in yours, feelings swirling in your chest.

“I.. I do want that.. I like it when you’re mean.. sometimes..”

you speak softly, your eyes red rimmed, meeting his for a glimpse.

He waits…

Thinking…

You’re keeping something in, and he can see it.

“Then.. what’s got you like this..?”

He responds, his tone patient. Only for you.

His fingers tangling in your hair.

You pause, closing your eyes as you gather courage.

“I.. felt so alone.”

You whisper back to him.

His heart lurches at your tone.

His arms wrap around your shoulders.

His breath soft against the back of your head.

When he speaks again it’s hesitant. Careful.

“M’.. sorry dovie.. how can I help you now?”

You lean into him, more than grateful for his comfort.

“Love me..”

You whisper back, your eyes closing, a small frown on your lips.

He doesn’t respond verbally.

Taking the signs he leans in, kissing so softly over the bite mark he left on your shoulder.

Again, at the bruises on your arms.

Your fingertips.

Palm, wrist.

Loving you.

Fingers carefully moving against your sides, finding your sore hips.

Rubbing, massaging.

His hands pull you back into him. Whispering words of affection.

“My pretty baby.. always so good for me.. yeah?”

He asks, his hands pausing.

His honey eyes soften when they find yours.

“Say it, pretty… for me?”

His voice is low but so careful, in a way that makes your thoughts go quiet as you repeat his words.

“I was good… for you.”

you nod, feeling a tightness in your chest, a burn in your nose.

He holds you softly, his big hands moving down your thighs.

“I love you.”

He whispers into your skin.

Tears roll down your cheeks again.

This time, not out of pain, or insecurity.

But the way he loves you.

So sweetly kissing at every mark, every bruise, every affliction to your skin.

He shifts, pulling your back to his chest.

His hand wrapping around your jaw to make you look up at him.

His eyes serious, tone low.

“I love you, more than anything.”

He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re never alone with me. I’m here with you, always. More than just sex. More than any scene.”

He promises you.

His rough but controlled, keeping eye contact.

He ends with a kiss to your wet cheek.

You nod up at him.

Your heart warming in your chest.

He wraps his arms around your middle, resting into you.

“Let me draw you a bath.. we can soak together… how does that sound luv..?”

He asks, barely a whisper.

You smile so softly..

“I.. I’d really like that, Si.”

[whore4romance]

I just want to be loved unconditionally despite my overthinking😭

[anunsociablebear]

There's no such thing as too much when it comes to you, my little doll. your fears aren't too much to deal with and your attitude will never push me away. your clinginess could never annoy me and your devotion could never be overbearing. when i say i want all that you are, i meant it.

give it all to me and let me love you anyways.

[whore4romance]

*swoon*🥰

[anunsociablebear]

I know you can take care of yourself, but you don't have to anymore. let me do it all for you, my doll. cling to me and let me carry any burden you have. trust me to learn you and shut your brain off so i can handle everything you don't want to. feel safe in my arms and ill give you a sanctuary to hide in forever.

[whore4romance]

I’d never be seen by humanity again I’d be all happy in our little house 🥰

[anunsociablebear]

You've always been worth it, little doll. your mind has always been worth getting to know. your devotion has always deserved to be reciprocated. your problems have been worth carrying and your words & dreams should have always been heard and adored.

they couldnt give you the bare minimum, but i can give you more.

[whore4romance]

Can you pin more then one thing on your blog?? Cuz this would be pin #2🥰

[anunsociablebear]

I could tell you a thousand different things i plan on doing for and with you, my little doll. but above all else, i want you to feel safe with me. let me be your harbor for any storm and the place you can lay every negative thought. tell me your fears and pains without worry that it'll ever be used against you.

give it all to me and know that you will never be abandoned by me.

[whore4romance]

Isn’t that what we all want?! 🥹😭

[anunsociablebear]

Let me be the place you can always be soft. You dont have to hide behind walls or attitude when you're in my arms. If the pain of your past finds you, I'll soothe it. I'll ease your fear of closeness and press my heart into yours. Anything you feel, you can express and every version of yourself will be equally adored by me.

Give me the real you and I'll keep you safe.

[whore4romance]

Like a nice warm hug for my soul reading this🥰🥹

[luvlypresley]

how jason jerks off to you

jason slumped onto the worn out couch in his dingy apartment, the city's distant hum filtering through the cracked window. it had been a week since he'd last seen you. you were out a girl trip with your friends.

he pulled out his phone, thumb scrolling through the gallery he'd curated just for nights like this. pictures of you, one from last month's date, your lips curved in a smile as you leaned against him in that tight black dress, cleavage spilling just enough to make his mouth water. another from your shared bed, your hair tousled, sheets barely covering your bare breasts after a lazy morning fuck.

his cock twitched in his jeans at the sight, already half-hard from the mere thought of you.

"fuck, i miss you so much, baby." he muttered to the empty room, voice rough with need. "your tits look so perfect—i wanna suck on those nipples until you're soaking wet for me." he unzipped his pants, freeing his thickening cock. it sprang out, heavy and veined, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.

wrapping his calloused hand around the base, he gave it a slow stroke, eyes locked on your image. in the photo, your eyes sparkled with that playful fire, the same one that had you begging for more when he'd pinned you down and thrust deep into your pussy.

"yeah, just like that—remember how i fucked you hard, stretching that tight little pussy?" he growled under his breath, his strokes picking up pace. he switched to your social media, heart pounding as he found your latest post. there you were, in a bikini by the pool, the fabric clung to your curves, nipples faintly visible through the wet material, your ass arched just right as you posed on all fours.

"goddamn, look at that ass. i wanna bend you over and ram my cock into you right now, make you scream my name while i pound your dripping cunt." jason groaned, pumping his cock faster. he imagined flipping you over right there, spreading your legs and burying his face between your thighs, tongue lapping at your clit until you screamed his name.

his hand moved in steady rhythm, slick sounds filling the air as pre-cum lubed his shaft. "fuck, you'd taste so good—i'm gonna eat that pussy until you cum all over my face." he whispered harshly, thumb circling the sensitive head of his cock. he zoomed in on your face, that soft, parted-lip expression making him think of how you looked when he fucked you from behind, your moans muffled into the pillow.

"you have no idea what you do to me, slut—taking my dick like a good girl, begging for me to fill you up." the tension coiled low in his gut, building with every stroke, every stolen glance at your body.

he opens his photo app again. you on your knees, looking up at him with those wide eyes, mouth open and ready. he'd snapped it mid-blowjob, your lips stretched around his cock, saliva dripping down your chin. jason's breath hitched, his free hand gripping the phone tighter as he jerked harder, hips bucking up into his fist. "suck it, baby—deepthroat me like you did before, choke on my thick cock while i fuck your throat." he pictured your warm mouth sucking him deep, throat contracting around him while your hands fondled his balls.

sweat beaded on his forehead, muscles tensing as the pressure mounted. a video jason took played next—a short clip of you dancing in a short skirt, hips swaying, teasing glimpses of your thighs. "that's it, baby, shake that ass for me. i'm gonna grab those hips and slam into your wet pussy until you can't walk straight." he growled, stroking from base to tip with urgent twists.

the orgasm hit him like a freight train. jason's head fell back, a guttural moan ripping from his throat as ropes of cum shot across his abs, hot and thick. "fuckkk yes, take my load—i'm cumming for you, imagining shooting it deep inside your pussy." he panted, his cock pulsing in his hand, spilling more with each aftershock.

the release doing little to ease the longing. panting, he stared at your photo, wiping his hand on his shirt before typing a quick message. "miss you baby. can't wait to see you again."

sorry guys im ovulating

©luvlypresley2026 - do not translate or copy in any way. ˗ˏˋ ✉ - @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger, @malewifefckr, @batmilani, @justanormalpersin, @batslilwhore, @j-blackout8, @foivetimesacharm, @vanillakirstein, @ablondehoe, @soggywhore, @maxcalore3, @lillie1320, @thecomethearted

[whore4romance]

Whew…. Is it hot in here or is it just me?????🫣

[anunsociablebear]

You've gotten so use to the bare minimum, little one. let me show you what it means to be adored. to not only be accepted as you are, but loved for it. to have every layer made bare and shown how beautiful each one is.

give me what pushed everyone else away and i will only pull you closer.

[whore4romance]

Pull me so close that idk where you start and I begin😊

[anunsociablebear]

Let me make you completely dependent on me like the perfect little doll. tell me your every need and desire so I can fufill them all. let me learn everything you've wanted but never had so I can make it all real and show you the comfort in being truly safe with someone else.

everyone who came before me couldn't even give you the bare minimum, but I can make it all real.

[whore4romance]

Oh dear lord that sounds like heaven 🫠

[anunsociablebear]

I know you can do it all on your own, little one. but you dont have to anymore. you'll never have to be afraid because im right here to keep you safe. you'll never have to worry about being too much cause you're the one person I can never get enough of. anything you dont want to do, you'll never have to and any way I can provide or make your life easier, I will.

I know you can take care of yourself, now let me do it for you.

[whore4romance]

🥰😍