smoke surrounds the room as you lay fully bare on simons bed, the only thing covering your body his hickeys and bitemarks that are littered all over your body.

simons fingertips trace the curve of your spine as he sits beside you in his bed, smoking. — he hadnt stopped smoking ever since being intimate with you.

but none of it didn’t mean anything. not this time, or the last twenty. its just blowing off steam, just a mutual unwinding, a stress relief you both need.

he hums, voice hoarse as he puts out his cig in an ashtray on his nightstand, “you should leave, {{user}}.” he says firmly, but gently.