#but other than that the guy is freakae like gosh *fans self*

[diodellet]

he's the romantic one (simeon x gn!reader)

ay new smut with the angel man! but also please stop torturing me with your beauty!! i am BRoke!!!! content warnings: -reader is described as flat-chested (no mention of genitalia) ++established relationship shenanigans (of the movie date variety), some finger sucking and mentions of spit, gratuitous nipple play, frottage, handjobs word count: 2.6k words minors do not interact

With the weak volume of your laptop's speaker, you have to share a pair of earphones with Simeon, sitting close enough that your thighs touch.

"I-I don't get why they've got to hook up in the middle of the apocalypse. Ew—" You clap a hand over your eyes with a smack.

"Eh? Are you alright?" You should be thrilled. He's got his attention now trained on you.

"Mhm, yeah. I'm fine. It's just—ew what the fuck they're kissing—" In your blind search to lower the volume, your fingers accidentally increase the volume even more. You scream in tandem with the actors' moans and yank up the collar of your shirt to obscure your face, dislodging the earphone out and cutting yourself off from the audio.

Thankfully, a pair of hands shuts the laptop screen closed, putting out the last of your bedroom's light.

"I didn't think a romance scene would put you off."

Your face is still burning from the ordeal that you were put through. But you could project it—your mortification—onto that, the movie. Sitting back on your palms, you fumble blindly for the earphone. Simeon hands it to you and you quietly thank him.

"I-it's the end of the world!" you reasoned, "why would they be doing something like that? Shouldn't they be trying to—oh, I don't know—survive?"

He laughs, a carefree sound that doesn't contain a hint of mockery. You then feel the weight of his head leaning against your shoulder. "You can't blame them for wanting to... commemorate their last few days together." Maybe it's the darkness of the room, making you hyper aware of his presence beside you. You can hear a hint of wistfulness in his voice. Well, he did have a sense for romanticism.

There was a running joke that he was the cheesy one. Something something, mansplain, malewife.

"'Commemorate,'" you snort. "You sound like the type who'd wanna get married before having sex."

"And you're the one who started screaming once the leads kissed." His laughter doesn't let up. "I didn't quite peg you for the shy type."

It's not like you were completely inexperienced! You open the laptop and readjust the volume. You've watched porn and read erotica. You were given the talk about the birds and the bees, and sometimes you've indulged in your needs with your hand. This was a completely natural thing that happened, especially in movies. But even with all that knowledge...

"Actually...it was when it cut to their naked bodies but still." You protest, "I'm not shy... It's just, I'm—" You wince at the change in angle as it focuses on their faces, focuses on all the nasty sounds their lips make as they sloppily make out. "—grossed out by bodies...Why does it sound like that—they're so...into it, eugh." You turn your head away and instead look at a patch of blankets lit up by your laptop's screen.

Unaffected by the scene in front of him, Simeon muses thoughtfully, "I guess the acting might not be your cup of tea. It does seem a bit...forced." He was a writer himself, but more than that, he was an angel. Did he ever have to think about these things outside of his line of work? Well, he might not have had much reason to initially, you reason. But if he was with you now... your mind starts wandering. Did he think of you in those situations? Did casual skinships like this—sitting thigh to thigh, hands brushing against each other, little contact points to hardly exchange warmth—also have any effect on him?

If you hadn't ruined the movie watching with your annoying screaming, you were definitely ruining the experience by continuing to make a scene out of this.

"It's so bad, I can't continue watching," you groan, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyesockets. Your cheeks still have yet to stop burning with secondhand embarrassment. Your own hands reach out to shut the laptop screen closed a second time. This time, deliberate. "I'm sorry, I'm—ugh."

You are a mess.

The silence of your room combined with the thump of your pulse in your ears compounds your discomfort. "Would you have wanted to watch something else?" you ask. Why did you turn to face him? You were both sitting in darkness, so it's not like he could see you.

Simeon scoots closer to your side. He makes a non-committal noise. "I don't always watch this kind of genre, so it was interesting." His hand slips underneath the hem of your shirt, with his gloved fingertips pressed against the small of your back.

Your posture straightens at the feeling against your bare skin. "I probably ruined it, didn't I?" you blurt out.

"Well, your reactions partly made it interesting." His hand rises to rest against the base of your shoulder blade.

Thanks for calling me juvenile, you think to yourself. Your hands tighten into clammy fists, creasing the fabric of your bedsheets. "Simeon, I love you, but I think you're just saying things—" Your sentence tapers off into a surprised squeak when his palm brushes against your front.

The little noise seems to echo throughout the confines of your bedroom. "I do mean it, really, I do," Simeon reasons, his other hand snakes around your waist. Both of his palms, warm and gentle and all of those good sensations, are cupping your chest. It isn't quite stimulating, but nonetheless, it leaves you anticipating for more. "I did want to do more than just watch a movie with you though." You then hear a note of suggestiveness creep into his voice.

Your pulse speeds, buzzing with excitement. You can't fight the growing smile on your lips. "What do you mean by 'more'?"

The longer strands of his hair are tickling the side of your head as he leans closer to you. "Let me touch you, please?" he whispers right against your ear, low and breathy and needy. And you feel your pulse stutter at the sound of your name falling from his lips.

He's already been touching you, you want to say. But your words get caught in your throat. And all you can do is place your hands atop his, lean into his touch. One of your hands searches for him—

"Mm!" The firm press of his lips to yours makes you melt in his hold. Equally needy for him, maybe greedier for more. But Simeon, with all his patience and his considerate nature, is a slow lover. His tongue slips into your mouth. He isn't doing anything forceful, but you can feel your breath being stolen away. Even in his gentleness, there's something almost lewd and obscene in the gesture—He wasn't boring, far from it.

You were just impatient. Needy. Greedy.

Simeon pulls away, lightly panting. Your own breathing is also quick, chest rising and falling underneath his palms. You can feel drool running down the side of your mouth. Thank God you're under the cover of darkness in your room, he won't have to see the accompanying dazed expression on your face.

"I...hah... thought you were going to...touch me..."

"Hm? I am." His lips graze the side of your jaw—

—then the junction between your neck and shoulder— "...but...I thought..."

He hums, waiting for you to gather your words. "Thought what?" You feel his breath ghost along the center of your nape.

Was he really going to make you say it aloud? Heat creeps up your neck. You swallow tightly in a vain attempt to dispel the growing fluster. "I thought you were going to touch my...chest...a-ah Simeon—"

His gloved palms squeeze the sensitive flesh and you arch into his touch. You catch yourself, biting off the moan that threatens to escape your throat. Instead digging your nails into the skin of his wrist.

"I haven't forgotten about these," he reassures, "just let me take care of you."

The heat emanating from his body is persistent against your back. Both sides of your body are bracketed by his legs and it leaves you no room for escape. The most you can do is shift your legs in a vain attempt to relieve the growing pressure between your thighs. The tips of his fingers idly trace circles around your areolas, the gentle motion teases your nipples erect.

You're very much sure that the darkness of your bedroom is adding to it, multiplying the sensations tenfold. When he pinches the nub in between his fingers, it tears a high-pitched keening noise from your throat. Your chest pushes forward to lessen the twinge of pain. Your arousal is hard to hide at this point, you're sure that he can feel you shifting on his lap.

"Wouldn't you want me to turn around?" Your voice comes out in a whisper. So you can face him and also run your hands along his body. Maybe even get to feel him put his mouth on your chest. You want—no, you need something to occupy your hands, instead of just having them sitting there.

Instead of leaving you helpless. Passive. Subjected to his touch. A mere recipient.

"No, not yet." His hand leaves your chest and you whine at the loss of touch. Your dismay only elicits a soft laugh from him. Your ears pick up the sound of rustling fabric and before you can piece together its source, you feel the tip of his finger prodding at your bottom lip. "Will you open up?" he asks. Oh. So he took off his gloves.

You don't need to be told twice. You open your mouth and lave his fingers with your tongue. Your eyes flutter shut as the digits explore your mouth. Pressing down on your tongue, brushing against the inside of your cheek, grazing the edges of your teeth, coating them in even more of your spit. He doesn't push until the back of your throat, only shallowly fucking the inside of your mouth with his fingers. The slow deliberate movement sends you further down your arousal, filling your head with fog. Your hips thrust against empty air, searching for some kind of relief. It feels good but it's not enough—

"Mm...just like that," Simeon praises before withdrawing his fingers. Your lips feel puffy, more drool slips down your chin. You chase after his hand only to be pulled flush against his chest. His spit-laden fingers return to toy with your nipples and the newfound sensation wrings out a pitiful mewl. What you would give to have his fingers at the junction of your thighs.

"Simeon, let me touch you too, please..." you whine, unable to keep the building frustration out of your voice. You can feel his erection straining against the fabric of his pants, an insistent heat against your lower back. Wasn't he getting impatient too?

You feel him turn you around to pull you into another deep kiss, feel him swallow your long drawn-out moan, swallow down your frustration and need until you're wrenching away to gather air back into your lungs. Simeon, not quite, sated moves lower and mouths at the hollow of your throat. Moves down your torso to seal his mouth around one of your nipples. His other hand doesn't stop groping at your chest, doesn't stop palming at the heated flesh. Every brush of his tongue and fingers against your overstimulated nipples sends a little tremor through you.

The stimulus is almost bordering on painful, but in this position, you can grind against him. Savor the friction between both your groins. The fabric of your bottoms reduced to a thin barrier.

"Can I touch you too?" Your fingers ghost along his waist, hovering just short of making contact.

Simeon pulls away, releasing the nub with a pop. "Mhm." You feel him shudder as your hand brushes against the skin of his lower stomach. After unbuttoning his pants and taking his cock into your hand, you slowly drag the tip of your finger against the sensitive vein running along the underside of his shaft. His breath hitches. "...do it gently, please." His hold on you tightens and he buries his face into the crook of your neck. You can't get enough of that sound, the shaky whimper and the addicting breathiness of his voice when he calls your name.

The steady stream of precum leaking from his tip makes it easy to meet every cant of his hips with your strokes. Your hand curls into a tight fist for him to fuck. "Don't forget about..." Your other hand guides him back to your chest.

"Mmh..." The flat of his tongue drags against your other nipple before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. The gesture elicits a low groan from deep in your chest.

Quiet moans mixed with curses and praises, chants of your name and his, 'more' and 'need' and 'please', you're not sure who's saying what anymore. There's no one else to hear, but your attempts at stiflling the sounds—only making them just barely audible for the other—makes the darkness of your room all that more hallowed.

His thrusts grow more clumsy the closer he draws to release. You can feel your thighs straining with exertion. The only warning you get is the graze of his teeth against the nub, followed by him releasing your nipple to claim your mouth in another bruising kiss. And you feel him spill into your hand. Your pace doesn't let up, thoroughly milking every drop from him.

...

(You keep the lights of your room on a low setting, so that neither of you trip or knock against anything as you clean up. Not that you're a messy person, but going several rounds made a simple trip to the bathroom more difficult than it needed to be. You forego your shirt, leaving it hanging off the edge of your hamper. You give your chest a cursory glance and—oh. Those look...

You set the fresh shirt from your cabinet back down.

"Should I just go shirtless...they're probably going to chafe..." you mutter to yourself as you stare at the forming bruises on your chest. Prodding a finger against your nipple elicits a quiet, pained hiss.

You don't think you can understand his fascination with your chest. Much less why he always focused so much of his attention on the two little nubs. They were small, pretty much unremarkable. Well, the underside of the shallow curve sometimes felt ticklish, but more than anything, it took an agonizing amount of time to get you to feel that much.

"I wanted to see if you could do it hands-free." Simeon's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. Your shoulders tense and your hands quickly drop to your sides. While he's also clad in his underwear, his posture is relaxed, loose.

At your wide-eyed stare, he says, "you were kind of...talking aloud." His expression is sheepish, but there's an undeniable tone of fondness and amusement coloring his words.

It doesn't take long for you to piece together what 'do it hands-free' means. Your hand claps over your mouth out of mortification. "I-is that even possible though?" Your cheeks feel hot, you can't look him in the eye and duck your gaze. "Th-that has to just be a porn thing."

His lips are right against your ear and it sends more heat through your frame. You can hear the smile in his words. "I still think it's worth a try, don't you?" You remember how you were reduced to a whining, needy mess in his lap. If that's what an attempt entailed, then what more if it became a regular thing?

"Argh, shut up! Sleep!" You knock your pillow against the side of his head. It does little to dispel the fluttering in your stomach.)

*twirls hair* haha simeon having a thing for small tits... let me have this one (1) singular fantasy

anyway if you liked reading this, don't be afraid to reblog and holler in the tags. your comments mean everything in my fight against my inner saboteur.💕💕

#obey me smut #mdni #obey me simeon #gn!reader #ibtc readers this ones for you #dellet-writings #kung kelan nagsulat ako para kay simeon...di naman siya nagpakita sa nightmare hmp. edi wag #i just think that simeon only plays up his innocent angel act when hes gonna blindside you with lewdness #but other than that the guy is freakae like gosh *fans self*