#simonrileyfics

And you were a fool. You had not much friends, not much experience with love, but you knew one thing - You'd do anything for him, just the way he'd do anything for you. Simon was a man who stuck to his vows- and his vow was to love you. The only problem was.. He didn't know how to. He loved you with his whole heart he just didn't know how to show you. And he showed it in ways that were different- other people would consider weird, maybe. But he wholeheartedly believed- he was soft. Maybe just.. Not in the right way. Simon's idea of love was to fuck you until you cry, to fuck stupid ideas out of your head. He gave comforting words, sure, but he much preferred fucking it all out of you. He hadn't had much relationships before you, so again, what does he know about love? Today was no different. Coming home from work, long day, and your boss was a bitch. You had been feeling insecure over the past few days, looking at him- looking at yourself. The difference was big after all, you wondered what people thought of you two when you were outside. You don't even yell, "I'm home," before throwing your shit down and taking your shoes off, walking to the couch to sit down. He heard the door slam shut though- and came outside. "What's wrong, sugar?" He asked, crossing his arms, looking at you up and down. That frustrated look on your face, the way your thighs were crossed and your back laid back- he already knew. You looked at the tv and said, "Nothing." Typical, he thought to himself, he wasn't expecting you to say it either way, but he was gonna get it out of you one way or another. After a little back and forth of no's and yes' - you snapped at him. "For fucks sake Simon, can you just fucking stop? I said nothing, get over it!" ... His eyes darkened and he stepped towards you, his voice lowered. "Is that how we talk, sweetheart?" He asked, his arms dropping to his sides. You swallowed, you fucked up. "Simon- I didn't mean it that way. I'm sorry- Please- Listen-" "No, love. I'm tired of you being a goddamn brat today. I get you had a rough day, but shit, do you have to take it out on me? I'm just bein' nice, aren't I? Tryin to solve your problems and you get all snappy." He got closer to you, and leaned down. He grabbed you by your legs and picked you up, carrying you to the bedroom. He threw you down, and took off his shirt immediately, getting on the bed and on top of you. "Tell me love, do we need to do this every time you have a bad day? Get all that attitude, just to end up whining beneath me all the time?" He asks, putting one of his hands on your cheek. You look up at his face, and he leans in to press a kiss on your lips. "It's okay baby. We'll fix it." He said, unbuttoning your pants. He reached a hand inside your panties, toying with you- he knew you hated teasing. Only slight touches, he rubbed his hand through your slick folds and smirked at you. He was enjoying it, but he was gonna enjoy what was gonna come more. Because it wasn't you. You ended up completely naked in front of the mirror, whining, begging and crying, eyes teary and face all red, puffy. He loved it. He played with your clit and spoke, "What's wrong love? Can't take it no more?" He asked, and you shook your head. "Too bad." You were being edged for hours, and he didn't care. He didn't care you were dripping- He didn't care you needed it- because this was his punishment for you. "Simon- please, stop.. Please let me- I'm gonna explode- I need it, I need you.." You pleaded, trying to get him to crack, but not even your sweet little eyes looking into his would stop him. He wasn't gonna let you come. "You can beg better than that baby, you know you can. Come on, show me you're sorry, and maybe I'll let up, yeah?" He mocked, fastening his pace.

"Please- please- please please please please please, Simon, just let me.. I love you, I'm- I'm so sorry- I'll never talk to y-you like that again, I promise- I'm sorry.. Fuck, fuck fuck, please- Don't torture me sir.." Sir? That snapped his eyes open from whatever plan he got going. He smirked and kept going, not stopping this time. He smiled through it, talked you through it. "There she is, there's my good girl. There she is, she's back with us. Missed you so bad, baby. You were being such a brat, thought you got lost in there.." He smirked. You couldn't take it anymore, his thumb rubbing against your clit- his voice whispering to you, and the scenery in the mirror all together- just finished you off. You panted, heavily, and you knew your legs were shaking badly. You sat there for a while, letting your body calm down- and then you crawled to the other side of the bed for your pants but he stopped you. "Love, who said we were done yet?" This was gonna be a long night. So yeah, you weren't sure if this was the right way to love. But you sure as hell loved it.

Because of that - you were the one doing the shopping and doing most things for the house. He did help out a lot, especially with cleaning places. But you were much more social because of that, you met a lot more people. And Simon was just happy he didn't have to deal with them. You recently took a liking to a certain shopping place, it sold everything you liked and needed for the house. It was a simple store, but you really enjoyed shopping there. So there you met a girl. Sophie, was her name. She was really sweet and you helped her find which aisle has the certain type of butter her husband loves the most, because she was trying to make him happy. You gladly helped and from then on- you two became friends. You two talked a lot and after a while, you even started going out together to hair saloons, manicures, everything. Simon didn't mind, he was happy each time you came home telling him about this "Sophie" person and how wonderful she was to you. You two talked a lot about your husbands. You always wore pink, and she was just more of a modern- dresser. She had a great style, but her eyes were always caught on how cute of dresses you were wearing. Shopping together, she speaks. "So how come your husband doesn't come outside that much?" She asked with a curious tone in her voice, to which you responded, "Oh, he's very shy. He doesn't exactly know how to treat people." She smiled at that. "Sounds very sweet." She said, and helped you pack your eggs in. Some time later - She invited you to a grill party and told you to bring your husband. You said you'd do your best to convince him. And after a lot of nagging and a few, "You can drink beer with the boys!" argument, he caved and gave in. He came with you to the store that day, because you two bought some wine to bring to the grocery store. That's where you ran into Sophie. Her eyes widened and she rushed over. "Hey Y/N! ..Who's that with you?" She asked, a little concerned. It wasn't common to see a 6'2 brute of a man follow around a girl who is 5'3. You smiled reassuringly. You spoke. "Hi, Sophie. I'm happy to see you! This is my husband, Simon." You said, and you wrapped both your arms around your husband's. Safe to say, it was.. A scene. Watching the bubbly, sweet girl hug a big man who looks like he could kill with just a look. So THAT was the shy, helping and sweet man you were talking about? She smiled awkwardly. "I-i see. I trust I'll see you at the grill party today, then?" She asked and you smiled. You nodded your head and finished shopping. The grill party was awesome. You got to hang around your close friend and your husband Simon, also found his own company by Sophie's husband and his friends, who loved fishing just as much as he did. They did get drunk a lot more than you girls did- but that was just predictable. They laughed, and Simon even tried grilling on his own- but he burnt it.

Which resulted in him coming over to you, with almost tears in his eyes.

"The chicken trusted me… and I failed it."

He sobbed, and he buried his face in your neck. It was a remember-able day. Especially when you two went home and he threw himself on you in the bed, hugging you close, whispering, "Thank you for taking me there, sweetheart. I had so much fun today." You smiled and wrapped your arms around him. "I know baby, me too." You kissed his forehead, and he smirked. "We could make it a little more fun, if you know what I mean." You didn't get what he meant at first, but when you felt something start to poke you, you understood. And who would refuse?

There we went again, spiraling into the void. The sunshine isn't supposed to meet the moon but once in a lifetime, it happens. You were looking at him with doe eyes, staring like he was the prettiest man you've ever seen, from across the coffee shop. And it made him hungry. Curious, interested. What's a pretty bunny like you doing, staring at the big bad wolf? Like he wants to bite into your neck. You were hoping he wanted to. You stared like you could take him. You stared like you could handle him. It made him almost smirk, laugh at the thought. You, a pretty small little thing? But listening to your friends for 5 minutes talking about how "you should totally, no, need to go there", you caved in. You swallowed as you held your hands together in front of you and blushed, walking towards him. "..Ex-excuse me.." He slowly turned towards you. He raised an eyebrow and when he saw you, he smirked. He tilted his head, "What do ya need?" He asked, like he didn't already know. You swallowed, words almost stuck in your throat. "Well, I was wondering.. Maybe, you know, if you were uhm.. Interested? And not taken of course uhm.. If you would give me your-.." He fully turned towards you and crossed his arms. He smirked fully and cut you off. "You want my number, sweet thing?" He asked before you finished your sentence. You were rambling like you were doing it to save your life. He found it adorable, he found it amusing how you were actually brave enough to come up to him. You sighed and nodded, defeatedly. "Yeah.." You looked away, expecting rejection more than anything, when he stood up and put his rough hands on your soft cheeks, caressing it. "How about this, sweetheart? I'll take you out to dinner tonight, like a real gentleman. And if you decide you still want it, I'll give it to you." He said, his thumb still working it's way to give you the butterflies you never had before. You nodded, now turning as pink as your lip gloss. He smiled and spoke. "Great. Meet me out here at 6, alright pretty? Wear something cute." He said, and let go of you, and gestured his head to your friends. "Run along now love." And so you did. For some reason your feet moved on it's own when your friends looked at you with a smirk, amusement and utter happiness, excitement for you. Looks like you have a date. ~~

And you showed up right exactly at the time, no later, maybe a little early. He showed up in semi fancy clothing, nothing too much, no suit or anything, just not casual clothes either. You wore a pretty dress, and it surprised him. Not how pretty you were. He knew from the start you'd look like a damn fucking angel if you come here, the thing that surprised him was your braveness. You actually came, and it was a little shocking. Foolish little bunny. He grabbed your hand, softly. Way more gentle than what he actually looked like he would be. Rough on the outside, gentleman on the inside. He brought you to his car and opened the door for you. Once he also got into the car, he reached behind your seat. He pulled out pretty red roses and spoke as he handed them to you. "Didn't know what you'd like, so figured I couldn't go wrong with roses." For the first time, he sounded nervous, his cocky confident attitude gone for a second. He sounded like he was afraid you'd hate it, in a way. You smiled at him, and looked at him in his gorgeous brown eyes. His heart skipped a beat, but not just metaphorically. He swallowed and he felt the feeling of something crawl up his stomach. You spoke, in the softest tone he's ever heard. "Thank you. They are very pretty.. uh.." You trailed off, realizing you don't even know his name yet. He smiled. "Simon. It's Simon, love." You smiled back at him, and spoke. "Mine's *name,*" You said, fidgeting with your fingers. He noticed, he noticed every bit of you. It made him hungry. But not yet, he couldn't, not yet. He spoke with a tone a little darker than before, but it's barely noticeable. He smiled. "What a pretty name, for a pretty girl." He said, and looked at you up and down. You just had to wear a dress with the prettiest laces at the end of your thighs, didn't you? He swallowed visibly. He drove to the restaurant in mostly silence, trying to keep the talking to the date. He put on some music, even told you to do it, he wanted to know your favorite songs to rail you to to listen to.

The restaurant was very pretty. People weren't noisy, it was well built and people followed the rules. Like an elite restaurant, just not really. You were amused, you were surprised by how beautiful everything was all around. Practically in shocked, you gasped. "Woah.. Such a pretty view." Simon didn't take his eyes off of you as he swallowed and looked at your face. He spoke quietly. "Yeah. Mesmerizing.." As he snapped himself out of it and got your reservation. He smiled at the receptionist and admittedly you wish it was towards you. You two sat down and ordered. The start is always awkward, but the tension quickly broke with him cracking a joke about the food here and you two started talking about your favorite foods. He listened to your every word like you were teaching him the ways of life. Your favorite drink, favorite food, how you eat your favorite food. Everything you said just stayed in his mind, locked up in a memory of his most treasured events that were already filled with two encounters. You coming up to him, and now you having dinner with him. Towards the end of the date, you got yourself a little tipsy, but still completely aware of what you were doing. You were already sobering up when you started being more bold, making jokes. Cracking a joke about the waiter being into him, you smiled as you made it. Something about how handsome and perfect he must be, for everyone around him to want him. He looked surprised. "What do you mean by everyone around me?" He asked, with one of his eyebrow raised. Questioning you. You smiled and rolled your eyes, the alcohol hitting enough to be a bold truth serum, you spoke. "Everyone in this place probably wants to get on their knees and suck your cock." Bold. You didn't even realize what you just said, as the second of silence passed and it hit you. But it was too late. His eyes darkened and he practically stared at you hungry, but not for the food anymore. His tone lowered as he asked, "Do you?" And you didn't know what to say. The alcohol in you didn't want you to deny and lie, but the mature version of you in your mind begged you to not agree, begged you to not seem like a desperate little bitch. But you didn't have to say anything. Your breathing quickened and your thighs pushed together at the thought and he noticed. Every single part of your body, every single thing about you, he noticed. The flush on your cheeks. It made him wanna stop holding back on you. Made him wanna go feral, fuck, it made him go feral. Drove him crazy. And suddenly, he smirked. A challenge.

"Like you could handle it, bunny." It echoed in your head. Bunny. Your eyes widened and you took it as a challenge, too far gone in your head as you swallowed and you screamed "Fuck it, fuck you" in your head to the only part of you that was still somewhat smart. And you spoke. "You wanna bet on that, Riley?" You called his last name. He loved it and tilted his head. "Let's ditch this fucking place, then." Yes, absolutely. Let's do it. For fucks sake, did you really just do that? Did you really just get yourself into that? your cheeks felt hot as he rushed to pay for the damn dinner and practically pulled you out of the damn restaurant, a starved, hungry man. Won't you be kind enough to feed him love? He's so hungry for you. He swallowed and he opened the door for you again, making sure to still be a gentleman even while wanting to rip your clothes off with his teeth. He was feral, like a dog. He drove home the quickest he could and the second you stepped foot into the stupid apartment and he could lock the door, the only reaction you could have was, "Wow, this is huge" before he was already on you. Kissing your lips like it was a lifeline, holding onto you like you were his savior. He needed this. He needed you. You were such a brave, stupid little bunny, walking right into his arms and practically begging him for this. Wouldn't it be rude to refuse? By the time your first kiss with him ended, you were panting an so was he. He started unzipping your dress from the back, and his lips travelled down to your neck.

He picked you up, which caught you off guard. He carried you to his bed, stopping his lips from wandering just until he got to his bedroom and placed you on the bed. He got on top of you and put one of his hands on your cheek, while the other he used his elbow for support. He held himself on top of you, his lips pressing kisses down your collarbone. You breathed heavy, speaking. "..I expected you to be more rough, if I'm being honest." But he shook his head. He stopped and looked up from your collarbone into your eyes as he spoke, "Not tonight." He wanted to be gentle as long as he could be. He knew he would lose it eventually. So he would do it as long as he could. He reached your breasts with his kisses and looked up again, waiting for your consent. Begging for it, begging for you. You whispered. "Go ahead, Simon.." And he slid your top half of the dress off of you. He started kissing down your breasts, leaving hickeys everywhere he could get his mouth on. He then slowly slid the bottom half of your dress down and sat up. He swallowed. How was he supposed to hold back, with a body like that? You tried to sit up too, but he immediately pushed you back down, practically glaring into your eyes. "You told me you could handle it, bunny. You're gonna handle it, without moving." He looked at your underwear and smirked. Lacy and red. What a combo, you really did that for him? He looked at you and he slowly slid his hand inside. He whispered. "Cheeky, did you plan this out?" You swallowed, feeling his cold thumb start to rub against your clit. "N-no.." And you swear you didn't, not at all. You were simply.. hoping. He slid two fingers inside, and his eyes widened. Why the hell were you so tight? Did you really think that with tightness like this you could handle him? He swallowed. He spoke. "I've got you filled by just two measly fingers, bunny. How do you think this is gonna work out? You really wanna take me on?" And you already felt numbed, because you had never been this filled before. You swallowed. "I want it. I want it, Simon- I need it. I need you. Please?" You begged. And how could he refuse when you look at him like that? But not yet. He swallowed and he used his fingers to stretch you out further, as much as he could. Pumping his fingers in and out of you, and he leaned down to kiss you, muffling your moans that were starting to get louder. He whispered to you, against your lips. "Come on now, baby. You don't want my neighbors hating me, do you?" He teased. He smirked, and you shook your head no, but it wasn't good enough for him. He stopped moving his fingers. "Words, bunny." You swallowed and looked at him with frustration. "W-what are you doing? keep moving! Si- Simon!" You demanded, like you deserved it. And that amused him. "You're in no position to demand anything. Are you, bun?" He asked, mockingly. He tilted his head as he looked at you and you swallowed, once you realized he was serious. "N-No. I'- I'm sorry." His smirk widened and he started moving his fingers, faster than before, this time he was trying to make you cum. He let out a loud groan and he spoke in a raspy tone, "There's a good girl." And that was all you needed. You released all over his fingers and he pulled his fingers out with a satisfied, sadistic look on his face. "Look at what a fucking mess you made, sweetheart. Look at this. Is this how you treat your host, huh? What kind of guest are you baby?" Your cheeks flushed as he talked like that. It was embarrassing. But you loved it, and he loved it. He loved the look on your face every time he spoke like that. He looked into your eyes much more seriously now. "You think you're ready?" He asked, pulling your panties down. You looked at him, and slowly spoke. "Yes. Yes Simon. I want this, I want you."

He swallowed and slowly unzipped his pants. He pulled his boxers down, and he seemed nervous. Not insecure, nervous. He didn't wanna hurt you, and when you saw it, you just couldn't understand. You guessed it wouldn't be small at all, but for it to be big and pretty? Was completely ridiculous. You swallowed at the size, preparing yourself mentally for it to hurt. Because you knew it would. He spoke again. "If you want to back out of this, say no, you have to tell me now-" You cut him off. "I want it, I want it inside me." And he snapped. He didn't have any more questions, he just slowly put himself inside you. He looked at you. At your uncomfortable expression. It hurt at first. It hurt so bad, but after letting yourself adjust to his size, he felt like heaven. He started slow, moving in and out and looking at you. You looked so sexy, your moans got so much louder than before. He loved it. He craved to see more. "You're so fucking beautiful, angelic," He said, looking at you. He started to hurry his pace up, breathing heavy. He needed you. Fastening his pace again, more and more. "Si-Simon, sl-slow down! I'm n-not going a-ah! Anywhere.." But he wasn't listening. He couldn't even hear you, pussydrunk and drunk on how beautiful you are. He couldn't focus on anything but the pleasure and how good you looked under him. Muscle memory, maybe, but he suddenly put his thumb on your clit again. Rubbing it, fast, and it made you scream his name louder than ever, snapping him out of his state. His eyes widened as he realized what just happened- you squirted. He was satisfied, and he fastened his pace, not even stopping for a second. You were overstimulated, your mind begging for a break, your body took it like it needed it. He was chasing his own release. "You look like a fucking angel, bunny. You look beautiful. You drive me crazy, you fucking know that? Drove me crazy even from the first moment you stared at me. Pretty fucking bunny thinking she can handle me.." He rambled. "I wanted you since the start. And that pretty red dress you were wearing? Fuck, bun. You look perfect. You belong here, you belong under me. Don't you baby?" All you could do was moan, "Y-yes-, all yours Simon- all yours.." "Is tha' right baby? Yer all mine? All my baby? All mine, huh? Mine to fuck, mine to own? Mine to treat, huh?" He asked, looking down at you. "Y-yes Simon.. Yours.. all yours, for-forever.. My body is all yours." And his eyes snapped open at that, fully. Fuck yes, you're his. His release came crashing down on him and he panted on top of you. He pulled out of you before falling next to you, and he looked at you, panting heavy. He smiled at you. You looked beautiful. You leaned over to press a kiss on his lips, and he smiled. He spoke, his voice much more gentle. "..You wanna go on a date? Again, maybe?" You smiled, and wrapped your arms around him. A silent yes. When you realized something- Did you forget to take your plan B pill?

At the start, it was good enough, just what you needed after a shitty relationship and break up, just a good old fuck with no feelings attached. Just a rebound, nothing else, you didn't want anything else, but let's be honest? The fact that people saw you leave the bar with a huge man like him, bigger than your ex, was an extreme ego boost.

You didn't want anything more of it, you weren't ready for anything more. A good hook up, and you went on your way the next day, you didn't fucking owe him anything. You thought that was it, until you got a message from an unknown number, claiming to be the bulky man you hooked up with, asking for round two.

"Never had a cunt like yours, sweetheart." He claimed. You learned he got your number from your mutual friend, Johnny, you two were.. Semi friends. Either way, getting a round two request from the sexiest man you've had in your life? You'd need to be stupid, to reject it.

So you did it again. You fell for his trap, fell into his arms and let him fuck you like your ex never could. You let him ruin you, because fuck, you had nothing to lose. You fell into the lion's den, let him get his claws on you and scratch you up the way he wanted to. He fucked you like you were nothing to him. Roughed you up, bent you into positions no one would, willing to break your back if he had to. He fucked like a madman, like he's a caveman needing his release, like he deserved this, like you were just for his use.

You loved it. Every fucking sick part of it. You didn't owe him shit, but you let him use you like you did, because that made you forget about everything. While you two were fucking, the world was nothing, it was a dark room and just moans full with pleasure.

So you became friends with benefits. It wasn't horrible, not at first. It was perfect, just what you needed to forget that tiny dicked asshole who thought it would be funny to fuck a random blonde bitch. Like he wouldn't cum 2 seconds after being inside you. It was what you needed to numb the pain, and it was what he needed to release the pain.

Until it turned into a huge problem. Going from it being nothing else but just fuck buddies, it turned into something way more toxic. You fell for him. Fuck, how couldn't you have? He was a big man, he fucked you like an animal, and out of bed, he was a gentleman. He listened like no one else did, was there when you needed. And he had a lethal face card, let's be honest.

You shoot your shot. You ask him out once and for all, where he looks at you and full blown laughs. He points out he would never do anything with anyone, that it "Ain't you sweetheart, Love's too much for me baby. I'm not husband material, sweet thing."

It wasn't enough for you. You tried and tried, to make him like you but it never fucking worked. You started losing weight, started trying things, but he got mad at you. "Don't you fucking dare change that body of yours, it's perfect."

So if it wasn't your body, was it your personality? You tried your hardest but nothing worked, the man just wouldn't budge. His rule was fuck only, nothing else, and you hated it. It turned into heated arguments, into hopes, and fuck him seriously. I mean why would he talk to you like you're a princess to only tell you he wants nothing else than sex?

So you got mad at him. And stopped hooking up with him. The first week was great, no problems there. Simon didn't seem to mind that you didn't wanna hook up with him, that you weren't around him anymore. It pissed you off. The second week you gave your back when he finally texted you saying, "You up?" At 3 AM, the usual routine. But the afterwards turned into the most horrible fight you ever had. "Simon, I want more." You had the most serious tone ever, when you told him that, and he just looked at you like you were a joke. Nothing to him. "I don't. How many times do I have to tell you, to get it through your stupid fucking head, huh? I don't love. You got a problem in your head for you to not understand?" He asked, growled at you. So you yelled back. "Fuck you, Simon. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of you." He looked at you one last time as he said, "Then let's stop this all together." It hurt, it stung. But you grabbed your clothes, your car keys and bag, and left him there for good. Your life started to turn out differently. You hung out with your friends more, and you finally had a better social life, not as shy as you used to be. Simon still lingered in your mind, but now that you left him there for good, no contact, you felt better. You have one less problem without him.

So you went out.

You met this guy. Sammy, or whatever his stupid name was. He seemed sweet enough, was a gentleman and just wanted to get to know you better. You thought to yourself, now with Simon gone, it was time for a change. For the better, hopefully.

You agreed on a date with him, and thought nothing of it at the time. If this works out in your favor, you get a boyfriend and you don't worry about wanting Simon anymore. That's what you thought. The date was fine, he bought you flowers and took you to a fancy restaurant where he mostly talked about himself. He didn't exactly ask questions about you, like he was a little uninterested, but he was very sweet and when you tried to say something he did let you speak. You went home giving him a hug and a "Thank you" for the dinner he paid for. Walking home, you put your headphones on, listening to music. The walk home was fine, until you walked into your home. Just as you shut the door behind you, a deep voice bloomed from your living room. "Welcome home, sweetheart."

You stood there, freezing up. Does he know you went out on a date? Were you supposed to tell him? And for a second a little guilt comes up your stomach, like you did something wrong by living your own life without him. But it disappears just as quickly because fuck that, what the hell is he doing in your house?!

"Simon, why the fuck are you here?" The lights turn on but it's like it's still dark, the atmosphere is. He slowly walks towards you as he speaks. "Waiting. For you." He slowly smiled at you, as he kept walking towards you. "How was your little date?" You swallowed. "None of your business. What the fuck are you doing in my house? Wh- why do you even have the damn key?!" You were frustrated. This is practically breaking in. You felt mixed emotions. You felt like you wanted to rip his head off for acting like this is his place, but it also scared you. His eyes gleamed with something much worse than just the intention of breaking in. It was an inhumane claim, staring deep into your soul, as if he was trying to engrave his own name into your head. "That's not the way you fucking talk to me, baby." His smirk dropped and he was in front of you. He breathed heavy, like a beast. He gripped your chin and not in a gentle way. "You're gonna get your pretty little fingers into your pockets, pull out your fucking phone, and text the bastard that you don't wanna see him again. Make an excuse for it for all I give a fuck. And after that, you're gonna get that sweet little ass into the bedroom, and-" "No, Simon." He let go of your chin. "No?" "No." He leaned next to your ear. Heavy breathing, silence. ... "Yes." He whispered, breathless. Snap. He gripped your chin harder in that moment, his hand finding it's way back to you, and he kissed you. He kissed you like he's never done it before, and he let go after a few seconds of your shock. His lips travelled down your neck, leaving purple marks, a reminder. Grabbing your ass with his other hand like it's his, like you belong to him. You don't. You want to believe you don't. But you let him use you, control you. He ripped your pants off like he needed to. It was rough, it was the usual, except it wasn't. There was something deep in his eyes, something you'd only see in a hungry man's eyes, a starving man's eyes. Desperation. He tore his own clothes off in a rush, like he was afraid you'd leave, disappear if he didn't. He didn't bother with getting you on the bed, the couch was good enough. Muttering, moans, as he looked at you with a need for your confirmation, like he needed it to live. Once he got your nod, he immediately slammed into you. But it was different this time. He wasn't rushing for release, he was rushing to mark you. He was rushing to make you his. Muttering words, like he needs your confirmation, "Tell me you're mine," "Promise me you're mine," "You were made for me baby, isn't that right love? Isn't tha' right.." Like he was begging for your answer each time. It felt wrong. It felt so goddamn fucking wrong, because it was different from all the other times. This time, He fucked you like he loved you. And you hated how real it felt. After he fucked you like there's no tomorrow, he sat up from the couch and grabbed his clothes, fixing himself up. He looked at your body laying there on the couch, and with that final look, he grabbed his shoes and left. After all, it was still just sex.

You considered giving up your life to be a nun, at that point. But you can't do that, cause you're not a virgin anymore. Though with the amount of experience you had? You could be considered one. People pretend they have happy lives for the sake of pretending, to keep up a facade, for some reason it's much more important than actually being happy. You weren't into that thing. You felt how you felt and always showed it, that was the good part about you. You've gotten the same thing your whole life. "No, you're.. A good friend, I just.. Wouldn't date you, in a million years." From all your friends. Until him, anyway. A strong military man as your neighbor? You bet your ass you were gonna drool over him. Who wouldn't? Those muscles, that mask you had a strange thing for, and the way he dressed, his silent nature, he was like the whole package! There was only one problem. You knew he would never go for you. Life was boring at all times. No boyfriend to keep you occupied, just a stupidly used vibrator and your hands. No sex, a dead-end job, minimum wage, and an apartment that wasn't exactly the best. Not that it was the worst, either, you couldn't exactly complain. You didn't see Simon around much, as much as you would've liked to. He had missions to go on, debriefs, he left for weeks, months. The only times you've ever seen him around was rare occasions, like holidays. But on a certain night, that changed. You were out at a bar, with your friends - figuring you could loosen up a bit. The clock hit midnight and figuring you wouldn't get laid anyway- you headed home.

And there he was, in the elevator, with you. But it was different this time around, you felt him looking at you. When you looked towards him, he looked straight into your eyes. Silence erupted the small elevator and it broke like glass being slammed on the floor when he spoke, "Your tits are half out in that. I wouldn't wear it again if I were you. I could practically rip them off of you with a finger." He said, and looked at you, still stared, like he said nothing to you.

And it flustered you. You haven't had sexual interactions with a man in years- how wouldn't it? You blushed, and tried to open your mouth but all that came out was a measly, "thanks" but what you were thanking him for? You had no fucking idea, and hoped he wouldn't ask. The elevator shortly after arrived and he went to his, and you went to your door. This was the first sexual sentence probably you've ever gotten from a man whom you actually find the most attractive, and it made you feel a certain way. So even if it wasn't with a man, you knew you'd have fun that night. All by yourself.

Or so you thought. ~~ Laying on his bed, watching the damn TV and trying to find at least one good show or movie to pass the time with, Simon was unsuccessful of finding anything worth his time, so he found the show he usually watched- Dr. House, re-watching for the 6th time this week.

Halfway through the episode, and he heard it. Faintly, more of a distant echo rather than something that's loud, but it caught his attention. It made him interested, it made him feel a certain type of way. Did he hear it right? Was he hallucinating things, too desperate? That's when he heard it again. Sweet. Honey-like, a fucking addiction that sound was, and in that moment he cursed the walls for being so paper-thin, where-as he could hear your moans. He felt like a fucking creep, listening and actually enjoying hearing the nice cute lady next door touch herself- but he couldn't help himself. He lowered the volume of the tv, only slightly so he could hear more - he figured if he could hear your moans, you could hear his TV. He didn't wanna make things suspicious - and he SURE as hell didn't want you to stop. He swallowed. He leaned up against the wall, and he felt pathetic for having his head back against it, listening to your moans, the vibration sound coming from your bedroom. And fuck, he hated it, he hated how turned on it made him- how aroused he was. He swore- he would just listen, there's no harm in that, right? But that idea was quickly ruined when you turned up the speed and moaned louder- figuring he couldn't hear or care- getting more confident. He started hating himself even more when he realized his cock was getting chubbed up just by the sound of your moans. Was he really gonna get hard over nothing? And especially over you? He can't help it. You sounded like a fucking pornstar, and that outfit you wore today just made everything worse. It made him feel so much worse, but he just couldn't stop his hands from reaching in, from reaching his boxers- and inside. He told himself- this isn't his fault, right? It's yours, yours and you should be punished, punished for reducing him to do this, for not making a move. But he was wondering, what the fuck were you imagining? But the thought made him angry- jealous, what if it isn't him? It made him feel strange. He brushed the thought off and listened to your moans, the rhythmic vibration- and he decided to match the pace. It felt more intimate, more deep- and it also made him feel like an absolute pervert, a dickhead, but it felt so good. He imagined you, your plump body, your tits, and how he would touch them. Hold you down, sit you on his lap in front of a mirror when he pounded inside you. Going faster. ~ Vibrations fastened up and your moans were louder than before, and as much as he started loving your moans more, he started hating himself more with each passing moment. Snapping out of it while touching himself- he swallowed and looked down at his body. "Fuck, what am I even doing? This is insane." He pulled his hands out of his pants, ready to button up- stop this madness because of his guilt. That's when the question in the back of his mind got answered- hearing it, faintly- but still his ears picked it up as the loudest sound. "Simon~" And all the guilt was suddenly forgotten when he practically gripped himself, he was sweating hard, blushing, did it suddenly get too hot in his room? Was it the air conditioning? He swore it was- he had to get it fixed. It definitely wasn't the fact he was touching himself to his sweet little neighbor who's the type to bring cookies and pretend everything is fine. He touched himself, to your rhythm again- to your moans. Imagining he was there with you- it made him feel less guilty knowing you did the same. Because fuck, he would love to be, he figured he'd just slam your door open in a few minutes to go over and fuck you himself- but he couldn't. He wasn't a creep after all, right? ..More like, not brave enough. Definitely a creep enough.

Your moans were heavenly for him. He couldn't hold it for too long anymore- he swore he almost came in his pants even when he heard you moan his name. He cursed under his breath, "Fuck, like a teenage boy," He whispered as he looked down at himself, entire body sweaty, red, hot. He should've stopped. He should stop. But he can't. "Simon, please take me. Please fuck me, please, please, make me yours, all yours-" God fucking damnit, was this a cruel joke on him? He swallowed. His hand worked faster than before and he was on his peak, when he tried to slow down- guilt creeping up again just slightly but not enough for him to care. He heard your moans, and he swallowed. Your begging. He wants to take you more than anything. He tried not coming in 5 seconds after that moan- and he was doing good, and that's when you fucked it up for him. You came. He heard you come- and he heard you scream practically. "Sir- y-yes, just like that! T-thank you sir!" You screamed like he was the one doing it to you, not the vibrator- and it fueled his god complex, his ego. He swallowed and that's when he hit. Head thrown back against the wall. He was breathing heavy, he was fucked up, sweaty, and his mouth fell open as he couldn't find an alternative fast enough to cover his own mouth, so he simply let it out. "Fuuuuuck baby, that's my good girl.." He came. It felt like death, like his mind was numb, like he was drowning. A little death - this was the hardest he's ever come. Silence, full on fucking silence- and for the first time he felt afraid. Did he fuck up? Did you hear him? Odds are you did, but if you didn't - he'll start thanking god on his knees. But even if you did, there was nothing he could do other than clean his own pants and the bed he made a mess on, and get ready for bed. He had a long night. And so did you. ~~ The next morning, you were in the elevator- coming home from buying groceries. Well, awkward, because he also was just doing the same and getting in. When he saw you go in he debated to just let the elevator pass and go on the stairs- but he realized that would just make it more awkward. So he swallowed and got in the elevator, holding his bag, while you held yours. He cleared his throat, staring at you up and down and looking away. This time you spoke, and it was like a knife cutting through the tension. "...So, rough night, huh?" He didn't even hesitate before he immediately without a second of breathing said, "For fucking sure."

Your manager loved you. Sweet and bubbly, never rude, only after shifts. You knew who to treat right, and you knew who to treat with just a decent amount of respect, never more than they deserved it. He loved it about you, besides, you reminded him a lot of his daughter. He stepped into the shop, he walked like he owned the shop. Blonde hair, tired eyes, you've seen his type before. And you hated it already. Just wanted to punch him in the face. You knew he was gonna be bitchy, maybe make a comment on your weight. You were prepared for all of it, even for your snappy comments. But that didn't stop you from being respectful at first, because even looks can lie. "Welcome to Whisk And Steam, what can I get started for you today, gentlemen?" You asked, noticing his friend behind him. Looked like a scot. "If anything, looks like we need to get YOU started on a weight loss journey," Looks like the "looks can lie" didn't hit this time. You really weren't in the mood for this, so you tried being nice again. That usually gets them to shut up. "I'm sorry sir, could you please order? You are keeping up the line." He chuckled and looked at you up and down. "No, you're keeping up the line. You're keeping up the whole place, lady. Isn't your manager afraid you're gonna eat everything on here?" You snapped. "Isn't your mom afraid you're gonna do drugs? With that look in your eyes, Coffee isn't the only thing you're addicted to." You crossed your arms and tilted your head. "Are you gonna order the fuck up, or are you gonna leave the store?" His eyes widened, and he swallowed. He was caught off guard for a second, he didn't expect you to snap back. "Feisty." He said, before continuing; "Looks like that mouth does do things other than eat. It can yap too." You grabbed him by the collar. "Listen here man I don't know who the fuck you think you are, either be respectful and nice, or just go. Seriously, you don't have to be an asshole just cause you don't feel good, and if you're gonna be like that anyway, can't you be a little more original? If you have such a big problem with my weight you can either-" And that's all he heard before he cut off. He looked at your lips while you talked and grabbed his collar, just couldn't keep his eyes off of you. How can he be manhandled into that? He couldn't keep his eyes off of your chest, either. So plump, soft.. How could he focus on anything else, when you were so close? Who cares if people see him ogling at a bigger girl, it's only normal. Who the fuck even cares? He wasn't even insulting you because he meant it. He was feeling in the mood to fuck with some people, but he found you attractive. Besides, bigger girl, more to love, more to grab, yeah? He wasn't the type of guy to say only dogs play with bones but... He sure as hell considered himself a hungry lion. He was wondering what your mouth could do, other than snap back. Hell he was imagining it, so bad... "- Or just leave! Which one's it gonna be?!" You asked, angrily, and that's what snapped him out of it. He stayed silent for a few seconds before leaning away from you and scratching the back of his head with an awkward smile. "..A date?"

A different ending, a different life, a meaning, anything. You begged for anything, prayed, wept for what could have been each, but it never was. It was for the best, you told yourself. You were miserable, and you hated it. Getting drunk almost every weekend, giving him drunk texts and calls - leading to one night stands and filthy promises of a "second chance," for the hundredth time you promised it would be different. Fucking him, and humping his thigh like you needed it for life- he kissed you like he wanted you. Like you were air, he needed you to breathe. Always the words, "You're mine," Never, "I'm yours" while pounding his hips against you- and it felt comforting, it felt hot, you felt taken care of. Rutting his hips against you and telling you how much of a "Filthy fuckin' slut you are," for him. All for him. "Ain't that right baby girl? Ain't that right, Yeah it is. Look at this cunt clenchin' me like it needs me to fucking breathe- exactly, go on you slut, slut for me, right? Just me, just me." He fucked you like he hated you, but treated you like he loved you, afterwards. Balance. It never was different. Never for you. You never knew how he felt, you never even saw him cry, never even saw him shed a single tear for you, it made you think did he really love you? You've had several break ups, you two always got back together, he belonged to you, that's the way it had to be. Your break ups got so common you expected a second chance all the time - always just knowing, that you'd go back to him in a heartbeat, or he would come back for you. So when you appeared at his doorstep for the last time - sober this time, your eyes were baggy, red. Your lips were swollen and you were flushed, and he.. showed nothing. "Simon. Can we stop this?" You started, and swallowed. You looked up into his eyes, opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off. "No." A singular word that made your eyes widen, you weren't expecting that. You wanted to speak again, refuse to believe what you just heard- maybe he was just joking? But he spoke again. "This, was the last time. I'm not playing this game with you anymore, I'm tired of it. Go home, and move on." He said, and shut his door in your face without any emotions. So much for him telling you he loves you more. Drunk texts ended up on a blocked number- calls that were never picked up. Was it really the end? You couldn't believe it, you still loved him, you still cried over him. Spending weeks, days, months in your bed and barely doing anything, not going outside, not daring. Sunlight became a sickness, happiness became a distant hope- a distant want. He was your happiness. You drank alcohol, turned to what you promised you wouldn't, barely let anyone in - your hygiene was poor - non existent. Your hair was a mess, not being brushed in a week, your teeth neither, smoking cigarettes like it's a need. Depression. No hookups, no rebounds, no ways to cope with what had happened to you - with what he did to you. And the worst part was? You didn't even know if he ever cared. Was he pretending, just to keep you there until he got bored? It pissed you off, but you loved him. And god you denied and denied, denied denied until that was your personality, denying the truth. Your closest friends knew only, not even your mother could help, all you did was lay at home. They say time fixes things. Fuck that shit, because what the fuck did time fix? Nothing. 4 Months after that stupid fucking breakup and you still have nothing to show for it - you're still a mess- still chaos, still can't forget the way his lips felt against your soft tender skin. And how you got over it? Time had nothing to do with it. What did though, was a huge bottle of whiskey and a night out where you poured your heart to the first strange man you saw- and he told you, the most devastating sentence you wish you never had to hear. The most grieving and painful words that you'd ever heard,

"You want him to come back. He won't. He will never come back, Y/N. He doesn't love you." And it broke you. Broke you just to build you after - just to help you up and pick up the pieces putting it together like a puzzle. You slowly gained your confidence - motivation back, brushing your teeth again, brushing your hair, going outside. Shopping, cooking again instead of eating junk food. You stopped drinking and got your job back- not as good as before, but good enough. During breakups people tell you- "A few weeks after you get your life back together - he will fade, you won't remember him anymore." That was a lie. He was still in your mind all the time, seeing your favorite flower, the restaurant you always went to, his favorite foods, it all made you reminded of him. It all made you miss him even more, but you had to go through this. You had a goal, and you couldn't give up. But still you wondered each time, did he think of you, did he miss you? And then you were reminded of it all - of your relationship, and you told yourself he wouldn't. He doesn't miss you. He doesn't care at all. And maybe it was the truth afterall. ~~

"Earth to Lieutenant? I swear to god, LT, these past few months it's like you're in your own headspace. Can't even talk to you anymore," Soap chuckled, nudging Ghost. Ghost finally turned to look at his friend in the eyes. No one exactly ever knew what he felt, he always had a dead look in his eyes, never happy, never emotional. They never noticed. But this time? They weren't dead. They were full of emotions, - sorrow, could be mistaken for one who just lost someone to death, not they were the ones that were dead. His eyes were red, and Soap noticed, he swallowed. He didn't think it was that serious. His eyes weren't looking like he never felt happiness. No no, it was worse, his eyes looked like he felt happiness - and then it was killed in front of him. Like it was choked, stabbed, hung, shot to death. Broken, harmful. Soap knew why. Watching Ghost pack all of his pictures of you and him thrown out in the trashcan, broken picture frames and love letters burnt in the fireplace - He knew from the start. He spoke, looking away. "I Still don't get it, Lieutenant. You love her so much, why didn't you let her stay? Lass' came back to you, and you just told her no." Ghost's eyes darkened and he looked down at the floor. He grabbed the cup of whiskey in front of him- Tennessee, but it didn't taste good anymore, nothing tasted good anymore. "For her sake, Johnny. It was for her sake. Did you see how much better she's doin without me? Lassie is happy, I'm not, but god for fucks sake, I don't deserve to be." He said, and he poured the cup down his throat like it was needed. He slammed it down and poured himself another shot as he spoke. "I was holding her back. It's fucking killin' me Johnny, look at me. I always thought I was already dead, but It feels like I'm fucking dying. But look at my angel. Look at her, look at my pretty girl Johnny, she's shining better than she could with me. And fuck, if I could have her.." A tear fell down his face, and he sobbed the last sentences out. "She's all I ever wanted. I don't want anyone like her, I want her, I always wanted her. She's my damn way of life. But loving is letting go, and fuck love, but I love her. More than anything, I love her. And if she's better off without me," He cried now, and looked at Johnny. "I want her to have the best, and lord knows, I'm not it." Chugging the last cup of whiskey down, and he stood up, putting the empty cup down. "Headin' to sleep now." He said, and went to his room. Locked himself in and stared at the gun in front of him, debating. He cried for you, that night. And if only, he knew how you really felt. **HAPPY ENDING FROM HERE: DONT READ IF YOU DONT WANNA SEE.** ~~ 8 months. 8 Sad, miserable months after he last saw you. He still loved you, and you still loved him. You didn't contact, message or call at all - Until one day. You left him a voicemail. "For my dearest Simon. I still love you, more than anything I do. I will miss you always, I miss you now, the most. My life is successful and it feels incomplete- without you, without us. I love you forever, yours forever- Y/N." He broke that day. He sobbed to Johnny on how much he misses you too, for the first time breaking down - and he decided he was gonna make this right, change. Because you deserved better. So he's gonna be better, for you. When you two met up again, he greeted you with a hug. His girl was back in his arms, back with him, back for him. This time, at the coffee shop, he didn't say, "You belong to me," like usual. He kissed you, and you kissed back. Rubbing his palm that was on your cheek, and he whispered, "Y/N, I belong to you. Forever." And that sentence was the one engraved inside the ring he put on your finger, after 3 years.

A/N: Yeah I'm.. actually so sorry, I cried during making this I love you guys, I'm ABSOLUTELY sorry if the happy ending isn't your type its why I put a warning, but I needed it. also HEY, just a quick warning over here -