little sun

╰── ˊˎ- sun, she/they, twenty-four, main @hobimoon

x : main masterlist; biker!simon mlist, bimbo!reader mlist, hockey au mlist; forgotten war god!simon mlist

xx : rules ࿐ ˊˎ- requests are closed ˊˎ- thirsts are open

someone tries to pick you up at the club while you’re at the bar, grabbing drinks for you and price. when you look up, you blink in disbelief because it’s the same fucking guy that tried rubbing himself on you while you were feeling yourself on the dance floor, greedy hands finding purchase on your hip. thank god for john who yanked him away by his collar and telling the asshole to beat it. you’re clearly very unavailable and very much uninterested so what the fuck is this dude’s deal?

“c’mon, sweet thing,” he says, crooning. “why don’t we go somewhere private?”

“are you serious?” you ask, crossing your arms in front of you, the anger now shadowed by self-consciousness. you know that the issue isn’t you but you can’t help but feel that way when someone’s blatantly disrespecting your boundaries.

he shrugs, shooting a sleazy grin your way. “yeah, why not? ‘sides, you see anyone else out with their dad tonight?”

you pause, the anger and discomfort petering away for a moment of utter confusion because—

“what?”

the denial comes quick. "no- john, i-"

john tells you that you don't have to deny it. that you don't have to lie.

"i love it," john murmurs, a satisfied preen coating his words. he nuzzles his scruff against your shoulder, nipping at his baby's flushed skin because vulnerability is closing in. "i love how you love my body, baby."

you cry, cumming weakly at john's confession and throughout the tremors overtaking you, john holds you tight. he humps into you shallowly, trying to coax one more orgasm, and you do give a weak squirt just as his cum fills you, and it is thick and hot and delicious.

i love you, you hiccup. john stops just for a second before a litany of his own confession drop from his maw, unstopping and unwavering like now that the dam's been unlatched, everything just begins to pour out ceaselessly.

but john just tuts and tells you to be patient, to be good; tells you that you haven't even earned it yet. so time drags on, and your pleasure bloats, teetering you close to the edge, only for john to drive you off its peak by pulling his fingers out, leaving you to choke on your sobs, wet eyes staring at your fluttering hole in your heartbreak.

thinking about the two of you playing around with it—you poking holes in the condom, john stealthing, you saying that you’ll buy plan b tomorrow, don’t mind that you’re on the pill, you swear you’ll buy it so pretty please cum in me, john? it just makes the sex more debauched; makes the hunger filthier.

and thinking about the way the two of you will actually act out scenes—your mutual shock when john pulls out and the condom’s torn, you moaning even louder when john gives you the signal that he “stealthed” you now, the two of you gasping out loud about john’s cum trickling out of your hole, john driving you to the drug store and giving you crumpled cash so you can go ahead and buy the plan b.

you breath out, the sound rattling on your chest. "here?" you ask, just as quiet, just as needy.

"mhmm," john says, shifting on the bed. you don't even need to look back to know that his other hand is already pawing at his chub, palm digging against the leaking slit. your throat bobs, empty—you always did have an oral thing. fixation of sorts; almost a biblical need.

"go on, kid," he says. "give 'er to me."

her, like your cunt's its own person. jesus.

you drop slowly, feeling the strain on your thighs, the muscles quaking at the careful descent. you hover just above his face, feeling his breath against your damp skin. another rejection sits on the base of your tongue, words like i'm too heavy, john and just fuck me instead, please tangle together, fighting, trying to be the one to tumble out from your lips first, but then john's already taking control. the grip on your hip gets stronger, more insistent, and you squeak at the sudden tug, losing balance, before toppling on his face in a heap of weakened knees.

"fuck- shit- sorry-"

you try scrambling off him, using the plush pillows as leverage, but john doesn't let up. he doesn't allow you to crawl away, not when he's finally got his prize. the first drag is a teasing touch, so faint that it peters away at the size of your mortification, but john's always known your body—sometimes, you swear that he knows it more than you'll ever do—and the next lick is wetter, more rabid than technique like he's lathering you up for something. it's ticklish, almost pleasing, and you feel your body unwinding, the tension trickling out from your pores, allowing you to settle. to relax. to enjoy.

in the next silence, amidst the quiet huffs of your pleasure, he sucks on your folds. it makes you jump, jolting on his face with a keen. the action tips you off your balance, and you slip down, your clit bumping against his nose. you gasp, hands scrambling for purchase, for leverage, until your fingers find his hair to pull. john grunts, twitching at the sting, but you don't even notice, too focused on the bloating of your pleasure.

you don't even notice how john's lost control; how you're the one in charge now, using his hair as tether while you hump your slick cunt on his maw. but john doesn't care—this is what he was waiting for; what he was hoping for. he lays there, breathless, near faint, because he feels so utterly used. the sentiment makes him whimper, and he fucks into his fist with a pathetic desperation, trying to match your pace, hoping to cum with you at the same time. but this—riding his face—is not enough to make you cum—john's ruined your cunt for anything but his dick—so he near cries when you stop to pull back so that you can sit on his chest to look at him.

his face is so wet, his beard glistening with your mess; his pupils are blown wide, dilated in his hunger. you gasp at what you see, before a giggle bursts from your chest. you grip at his hair again, angling his head up so that he can meet your gaze.

"i wanna cum now," you tell him, saccharine sweet. "want your cock, please."