"He comes home broken. She holds him together from the inside"

· ─────── · ❤︎ · ─────── ·

The door closes.

Heavy footsteps approach.

And before you can say a word, Simon is already on you.

Balaclava pushed up just enough. Mouth desperate. Hands that don’t ask — they take.

Half an hour later you’re still straddling him, clothes a mess, and he’s buried deep inside you... completely still. Just the heat. Just the pressure. Just his hot breath against your skin and the low growl when you try to shift.

“Don’t move.”

It’s not a request.

It’s a need.

· ─────── · ❤︎ · ─────── ·

Heyyy, how's everyone doing?! First of all, I want to say that I got the image I chose from Pinterest, and I don't know who created it—if anyone knows, please let me know!

And second, I wanted to say that I've run out of ideas and I've gotten pretty bored; real life has me busy, but I wanted to post something for this Kinktober.