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#it 2 imagine
hansoeii · 9 months
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look at you, you're gorgeous!
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ato-dato · 8 months
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Go on, burst every one of his bubbles why don’t you
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This will be Markiplier’s cameo in the FNAF 2 movie
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forgetful-nerd · 6 months
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The real reason we’ll never get another Turtles Forever is because if these three met then they would absolutely destroy everything in their paths.
Also they’d verbally eradicate any villain’s self esteem in like 10 seconds.
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astrhae · 10 months
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crowley used the metal tool in season 1 to start time, and we learn that he's used it first to start space. to create the stars -- he still remembers how. he still remembers all of heaven's passwords: in the book crowley is described as an optimist because he has the "utter surety... that the universe would look after him". not god, but the universe. and of course he does: he helped create it and he's looking after it, too.
think about it: aziraphale had a sword, but crowley is about to face satan who wants to destroy the world, and crowley's only weapon is a tool of creation
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zombiegirldean · 2 months
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ALSO. the destiel language barrier is so sweet. bc Dean communicates in these abstract referential little circles that Cas can't quite parse. The Michael sword is saying incomprehensible riddles again. but Cas is SO charmed by it that he starts studying it and experimenting with it and trying to meet Dean on his level. and his butchering of idioms is played for laughs but he's mimicking Dean's linguistic patterns as a way of getting closer to him. because he loves him <3
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sweetnothingtm · 3 months
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♡ i imagine that Simon Riley is the type to spoil you rotten ♡
Simon doesn’t check his bank statements anymore - just hands you his card and plants a sloppy kiss on your smiling face.
Simon carries all your shopping bags without hesitation, even while you drain him of his worth. He scrolls his phone while you shop aimlessly, his eyes lazily dragging to your frame as you showcase what you want while he waves a hand at you.
yes - anything you want. yes - i mean it, sweetheart.
He follows you like a lost dog through the stores, practically begging for your attention as you wiggle your ass into a million different outfits.
I bet he takes you to all the lingerie stores. It’s his favorite part of the day, squeezed into a changing room as you strip in front of him. He always has a devious smirk, latching the stall lock into place as you hang up every scrap of fabric.
You’d twirl around in a tight lace, lip caught between your teeth as Simon palms himself through his jeans. He’d stare at you, eyes glowing with desire as you innocently checked yourself out and hummed.
do you like it? how do i look?
you look good enough to let me fuck you right now. matter of fact - bend over for me, sweetheart.
Simon would press you up against the mirror, dick pressed against your ass with his breath fanning against your neck. His teeth would graze against your skin, little whimpers coming from your lips as you roll your hips.
His fingers would press into your waist, digging into the silk panties with a price tag hanging off of them. $45 - damn expensive for a pair, but he considered you priceless.
When he inevitably ruins the fabric by cumming all over it, you’d have a little pout spread across your face. He’d roll his eyes, promising you another pair and splaying a hand against your ass while his camera clicks for a photo.
you look too fucking good, might just have to fuck you again when we’re home. you’d like that - wouldn’t you little slut?
Simon Riley would shrug his shoulders when the sales person would ask why theres panties in the trash. He’d swipe his card, hardly looking at the bill as he picked up another bag and watched you glow with happiness.
He always buys you dinner, opens every door for you, and slings his jacket around your shoulders. His hand always rests on your thigh when he drives, fingers tracing delicate shapes on your soft skin.
When he looks over to you, you’re already glowing with adoration and love - a twinkle in your eye as he squeezes your leg and hums.
did you like the gifts, princess? i spoil you huh?
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yawnderu · 21 days
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You can never take the military out of a man. Not when that man lost so much thanks to it, giving it his very own soul to serving the Queen and saving the world. Not a single thought about retirement ever going through Simon's head, fully accepting and embracing the idea of dying on the field, of having a warrior's death, fighting tooth and nail until someone gets lucky enough to finally put him down— until you came along.
Simon Riley is a proper lad now, well in his 50's and on his fifth year of retirement, strands of grey adorning his dark brown hair, a thin layer of fat covering his bulging muscles that seem to be getting bigger by the years, never one to stand still for too long and secretly loving the way you praise his body like he's a God.
He looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, another deep moan dragging its way out of his throat at the way your hand wraps around his thick cock with a vice-like grip, your warm tongue circling his leaking tip, his salty precum mixing in with your saliva.
“Like tha', baby.” Simon whispers, his hand wrapping around a fistful of your pretty hair the moment you lick a teasing stripe over his bulbous, pink tip. His free hand quickly replaces yours— something you're too familiar with after being together for so many years, your hands resting on his thick thighs just to feel the way his muscles ripple beneath your soft palms.
“Open your mouth.” It's not an order, it's a plea, his gravelly voice becoming slightly whiny with each deep groan leaving his lips as he wanks over your face, his broad shoulders rising and falling with each deep breath he was forced to take. Your lips part with no hesitation, the warmth of your breath as your tongue pokes out of your mouth is what sends him over the edge, ropes of thick, hot cum landing in your mouth with an accuracy that could have surprised you if you weren't too busy being enthralled by your husband.
Simon looks like a fucking painting, the light coming from the ceiling giving his bulging muscles the perfect shadow, his thin lips slightly parted and a light stubble adorning his pale cheeks, half-lidded eyes staring down at you with blown pupils as he mindlessly smears his hot, creamy cum all over your face with his sensitive tip, just as enamoured as you are.
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xxlumos · 9 months
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Holding onto you for dear life.
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sageworld · 2 months
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there’s just something about bestfriend!rafe who’s just obsessed with your boobs…
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“stop it, rafey.” you giggle, making it look not purposeful when you bend over, pushing your plush ass into him in a weak attempt to get him away.
“come on, sweetness just one picture.” he begged. you and rafe had gotten pretty fucked up last night at toppers, resulting in you just sleeping at his house in whatever you had left there. “fine, but you can’t show anyone.” you pretend to be annoyed, but rafe can see right through it.
you were always weak when it came to rafe, always giving into his needs. he wanted a beer at the party? you were coming back within minutes. he wanted a blow job? you bet your fat lips were wrapped around his cock the second you got alone. you knew it was wrong, he was your bestfriend and many times you scared off his girlfriends and vice versa. the two of you constantly fucked like bunnies no matter what the conditions were.
“deal.” rafe smiled pulling down your top, exposing both of your large breasts he had grown to love so much. “there’s my girls.” rafe smiled and bent down to kiss both of your hard nipples.
“just one rafey.” you pulled one tit back into the top as rafe sat his phone up, muttering something about boring. “well if i’m so boring you can just never see them again” you tease, attempting to pull your other boob back into your top. “no no no no i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it, one is great.” rafe yanked the top down.
you pose into the camera, one of rafe’s large hands covering your exposed boob, giving it a nice squeeze. “you’re like a little sex doll.” rafe says randomly. “what?” you laugh, after the photos taken, pulling away from him. “i don’t know you’re just like a sex doll, you look like one.” he somewhat chuckles towards the end, pulling your top down to expose your other breast again.
“thanks? i guess.” you embrace rafes new hold on you with a giggle. both hands grabbing handfuls of your ass, as he leans down to suck your nipples.
just know he made that picture his lock screen.
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hansoeii · 8 months
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Do you think of me?
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cosmictheo · 1 month
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𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 | feyd-rautha
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(gif credits to @pascow)
— summary: an arranged marriage with feyd-rautha in the name of reconciling your houses was something you were not expecting, neither was the soft and light way he seemed to behave towards you and only you. —pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x female!atreides!reader —word count: 3k —warnings: arranged marriage, feyd being gentle and calm because the reader is the love of his life (as it was written), probably ooc!feyd (sorry but i just love to see the most savage and feral men fall on their knees for their s/o)
writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!
ᯓ★ part one ── part two ── part three (coming soon)
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Your arranged marriage to Feyd-Rautha had been the reason for House Atreides and Harkonnen to strengthen their alliance, ensuring that neither would stab each other in the back, which was most expected from the Baron. Your Houses had been wavering on a faint thread that separated you from a war and this marriage arrangement had pacted a reconciliation. It had been your parents' idea and obeying your parents was the most important thing for you, right after protecting your family and indeed that was what you were doing, guarding your family.
Your twin brother did not like the idea, he was not very fond of Feyd-Rautha and his House, moreover, he found him rather... repulsive. For Feyd was a savage, a ruthless and bloodthirsty man.
However, he had to admit that, next to him, you would be basically untouchable, after all, it was like having a guard dog, the most possessive and protective dog, a dog that was ready to kill and ravage for you if necessary.
“He's scary.” Paul's voice echoed inside your head as together you walked along the vast hallways of the Harkonnen palace, at the end of it, Feyd-Rautha stood, engaged in a conversation with your parents, forever as stiff and somber as he had been since you had first met him.
“Just look at him, you'll have to wake up next to him for the rest of your life.” Your brother insisted, throwing you a knowing and concerned look. “We can fix this without you having to marry that man, sister. There must be something—”
“Enough.” you interrupted him, finally dragging your eyes from your betrothed to your anxious brother pacing beside you, you made an effort to offer him a reassuring, soft smile, grateful that he was always so caring and concerned about you and your well-being. “There's nothing else we can do. You know about my visions and what they foresee. Our House will not endure if I do not accept this offer.”
“We will do whatever it takes to survive for now.” You added, holding Paul's gaze, noting the sadness and pity behind his dark eyes, and like the good sister you were, you sighed softly, leaning closer to him to bring him some kind of reassurance. “Our turn will come to make our move and win, brother.”
“Whatever it takes.” He echoed, nodding his head, fingers brushing your clasped hand around his forearm, as you were accustomed to do when you walked side by side.
“The marriage will take place two weeks from now.” The Duke's voice gave out the news once you were all inside the assembly room, with the Baron at the head of the table, of course, looking uncharacteristically approving and pleased to hear the announcement.
The massive man showed his approval with a hint of a phantom, twisted smile, plump fingers taping the edge of the black table in front of him. “We will have the princess as a guest in our home for a week and then the na-Baron will visit her home for the last week, prior to her coming to live here.”
He planned the whole thing and there was absolutely no one in the room who had the idiotic courage to be against his command, so, it was settled.
Once you said goodbye to your family and gave a tight and emotional hug to your brother, you were left alone in the dark and gigantic planet of the Harkonnen family, feeling like an outsider, like a small prey surrounded by bloodthirsty predators. Although, the place possessed an indescribable and incomparable beauty, the sun was black, and the light that irradiated was whitish, giving it a beautiful contrast with all the black buildings rising majestically. But the place was rather... depressing, quiet and somewhat eerie, it was nothing like your home.
You soon felt out of place, and everyone who looked at you could see it too. It was as if you had some kind of golden aura, glowing among all the darkness and gloom of the place.
Feyd-Rautha watched you attentively, analyzing every expression and emotion you let be shown across your face, catching the look your eyes possessed, that special little gleam that flashed in your orbs as you admired Giedi Prime as if it were one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen in your life, his home.
“Do you like it here, my lady?” His husky, raspy voice managed to snap you out of your trance, and your heart skipped a beat once you trailed your gaze from the horizon beneath the balcony to him, meeting his deep, dark gaze. He always seemed to look at you with those eyes, captivated, as if you were some form of strange spectacle.
And indeed you were, you stood in perfect contrast to the planet, your eyes were bright, lively, your aura was vivacious and hopeful. And because of that, he liked to look at you, study your face, your body language, every little reaction you had in response to something. You were fascinating.
Whenever you entered any room, his deep blue eyes were pulled to you like a magnet, drawn to orbit around you like his planet circling the dark sun.
Feyd noticed out of the corner of his eye how your hands clasped lightly around the balcony fence in front of you, skin contrasting against the blackness of the material. 
You nodded your head very slowly, twisting your body just enough to be able to look him directly in the face, big eyes looking up at him, not with fear, but with expectation. “I do.”
Even your voice was the opposite of his, keeping that soft and delicate tone, as elegant as you.
He seemed satisfied with your positive response, and so, he dared to lean against the balcony fence right next to you, but careful not to cause you to feel too uncomfortable or intruded upon. His eyes never left you for a second and he was quite pleased that you were bold enough to hold his powerful and intimidating gaze.
“Good, it will soon become your home too.” Feyd answered you, in a tone that oscillated between amusement and fascination, you didn't quite know how to decipher the expression on his face either, naturally.
He was very complicated to read, even if you tried extra hard, the many tutoring and lessons with Lady Jessica didn't seem to do much use, with him. Perhaps because he made you feel unnerved, he made your soul tremble like no one could, stepping beyond your walls and standing where none of your senses seemed to work. Where the eye could not see.
“Are you mocking me?” Still, you had the courage to ask him that bold question, one eyebrow rising on your forehead and your head twisting slightly, defiant face and all.
Your bravery made him laugh slightly this time, a noise that was heard almost unnaturally, with a small crooked smile on his lips that looked all too unusual and strange on him. For not even his strongest and most powerful enemies had had the courage to stand in front of him and challenge him like you were doing right now. You were a fierce girl. And he liked that.
“I wouldn't be likely to mock you, my lady.” Feyd-Rautha replied calmly, his tone of voice the exact same, as if you were a spectacle. Your eyes lowered to his hand, which snaked slowly to the edge of the balcony fence, fingers stroking the smooth surface. “I'm just stating the obvious. You'll be living here with me soon. It will be our home and you will reign with me when it's my turn.”
You narrowed your eyes slightly at his response, not yet quite convinced that he would behave so calm and composed with you, when not more than two days ago you had seen him slicing men to pieces in the arena. “You are not bothered by me invading your space?”
You asked that question because you knew how... eccentric men usually behaved, you could see it in basically every man with any power you had ever met, in the so many meetings with the Duke back home. You could see how they treated their wives, how they looked at them and how they talked to them, as if they were dealing with a servant. You feared this marriage was like that too.
Even your parents' marriage was broken, since Duke Leto kept close to his heart another woman who was not Lady Jessica, he did not love her as he loved that unknown woman. You had grown up seeing an empty and cold marriage, merely to fulfill a duty.
You understood that your marriage would also have that basis, and therefore, you knew that duty was the death of love. But for some silly, innocent reason, you wanted to think there might be love here. As the naive, young girl that you were.
Feyd-Rautha shrugged, not taking much interest in the matter of the question, “You'll be my wife, my space is your space.”
A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he saw that his answer pleased you. You could begin to understand that to him the whole arranged marriage thing wasn't as important as it was to you, or maybe it was, but it didn't seem to bother him or disagree.
“Does this marriage bother you?” It was his turn to ask, staring down at you, noticing how beautifully your skin reflected the pale natural light of the black sun. He could see how frustrated you were now, to be there, with him. “Does it bother you to be my wife?”
You sighed heavily, peeling your eyes from Feyd-Rautha and returning them to the beauty of the landscape below, pondering the questions. His dark eyes followed your every movement as your body turned forward again, hands gripping the balcony fence as if your life depended on it.
“Do you care much for my opinion of you?” You decided to answer him with another question and that seemed to annoy him for his frown deepened and his fingers halted on the fence, devoting himself to glaring at you with his azure eyes, mirroring the pallid light of the gloomy sun.
“Woman, I will marry you and live by your side for the rest of my life, of course your opinion is important.” He took a couple of steps closer to you as he spoke, hand closer and closer to yours, managing to make you even more nervous. “Don't speak nonsense, it doesn't suit you. You're a smart girl.”
Seeing the expression on your face, he leaned even closer and out of the corner of your eye you watched as his hand rose to your face, resting on your chin and turning it ever so gently for you to look at him, but your eyes lowered, fleeing from his.
It seemed astonishing to him that you didn't even flinch away when you sensed the approach of his hand to your face, as if it wasn't the same hand that had slaughtered so many and slit so many necks by the same motion.
“Don't take your eyes off me.” He demanded in a low, raspy tone of voice, you could feel his breath brush against your face. “Look at me.”
When he whispered your name in that delicate, nearly pleading tone, you finally summoned the courage to look at him, allowing him to cradle your chin between his fingers and allowing him to be so close to you that you felt suffocated by the warmth of his body against yours.
“You fear me?”
He asked in that tone of voice, whispering, silently asking you to have mercy on him, not to fear him as everyone usually feared him, not to see him as the monster everyone saw, but as your husband, your protector and your lover.
He saw how your eyes watered slightly as fear peered into your usual stoic, cold face, and Feyd-Rautha was used to beholding that face, was used to fear, because it was always the last look of his enemies.
“I'm afraid. Of leaving home, of living on an unknown planet, of marrying someone I don't know.” Then you shook your head softly, looking up at him through your long eyelashes. “But I am not afraid of you, Feyd-Rautha.”
“You're very bold... and emotional.” He whispered in a disapproving but gentle voice, fingers tracing barely a caress along your lower lip before he reached up and dried the couple of tears that had managed to escape from your pretty eyes. At the closeness, you could begin to see through the mask he always carried, hiding his emotions. “You can't let yourself look like this in front of your enemies, it will make you appear weak.”
“I can't let myself look like this in front of my future husband?” his dark eyes lowered to your lips as you modulated the question, pupils dilating slightly. You swallowed as you saw desire and lust darken his orbs even more when you referred to him as your husband. You sniffed, feeling suddenly embarrassed by your outburst of emotions. “I'm s—sorry. You shouldn't see me like this, my lord.”
“Don't apologize.” He again reprimanded you in that passive-aggressive tone of his, like a hiss of a snake, shaking his head a little. Even after he wiped away your little tears, his hands remained in the same place, cupping your face, each of his thumbs resting on your flushed cheekbones.His fingertips were surprisingly gentle against your skin, sending shivers all over your body beneath their path. “You can be like this only with me, you understand? You can trust me, I want you to trust me.” His fingers took a lock of your hair and pulled it away from your face, running it carefully behind your ear. “But I really don't like to see you cry, my wife-to-be.”
After barely a second of silence with his azure eyes again flicking down to your parted lips, he spoke again, muttering, his raspy voice indicating that perhaps it hurt his throat to talk like that. “Pretty girls like you should cry out of pleasure only.”
He studied your face once more, not missing the way you blushed at his open flirtation and suggestive words, how you bit your lower lip, pupils expanding in thick blackness. You weren't used to so much attention, let alone men saying those kinds of words to you, it was evident. You were so innocent that it provoked a rare feeling of tenderness in Feyd-Rautha.
Perhaps it would be the closest thing to an act of consolation you would get from him and it was likely the only time in his life he had ever done that.
Promptly, you managed to make him smile again. “You Atreides are so strange and delicate... but then again, you will soon be Harkonnen, the prettiest na-Baroness, my pretty little wife.”
From his voice, his careful choice of words and the way he was looking at you, you expected him to kiss you right there —perhaps that was what you wanted, amidst all the tumult of emotions that shook your little heart, beating in rumbling noises inside your chest, pumping fiery blood through your veins.
But after a few seconds, he pulled his hands away from your face and backed away from you, taking a few steps back and offering you a look that you managed to perceive as soft rather than harsh. You knew that he was controlling himself well in maintaining a good demeanor, perhaps because his uncle had ordered him to do so; to do his best to make a good impression and not bring shame to the family. And also because he wanted you to have a good image of him, he was a prideful man, he was used to boast of his virtues and his power, and he was above all, protective of his own person and his glory.
He made a short gesture with his head pointing to the open balcony door, his hands clasping together behind his back pragmatically, as if he were presenting himself in front of a superior. “Now come, pretty girl, I'll show you the palace myself. You're future home.”
You walked towards him, a little smile curving your lips, the first smile on your face during the entire conversation, and he admired it in all it's glory.
“You don't have to be all stiff when you're with me, Feyd.” You eyed his posture with light eyes as you passed him and made your way inside the guest room with graceful steps, him following close behind.
He wasn't very fond of being addressed by name directly, of having his name used so freely, but the way you pronounced his name made him so utterly proud to be called that, he suddenly was wishing you would just call him that, in that tone of voice, tongue savoring his name as if it were the most delightful thing to say.
You turned to look at him for a few seconds, your tone of voice becoming reassuring, something he wasn't quite used to, yet he heard and savored it as if it were the sweetest thing in the world.
“If you can see me cry, then I can see you relaxed. It is only fair, no?”
Feyd-Rautha received your words positively, causing him to deepen his breathing into a snorting chuckle, eyes sparkling with amusement now behind your back.
“I'll try for you.” His response made you smile once more.
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reds-skull · 2 months
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I really should draw Soap more with his red mask, as you all can tell I love it
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amu-says-hav-says · 10 months
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I can’t believe I went through all of Season 2 assuming Nina was the stand-in for Crowley when you actually pay attention it’s so CLEAR that she’s Aziraphale. I was tricked by her spiky, sarcastic, cynical outer shell and lulled into a false sense of security by Maggie’s bubbly optimism and wholesome goodness, because on the surface they reflect the ineffable husbands perfectly, in their personalities, their aesthetics, even many of their actions and morals. but not, and this is the real key, when it comes to their “relationship”. but those first impressions really had me damn fooled. 
I missed the blatantness of Nina’s “we’re just friends. actually we’re not friends. we barely know each other.” the same thing Aziraphale said in season 1.  the way he still struggles to quantify their friendship when Nina asks. Nina’s sarcasm when Crowley asks about rain and awnings because it worked for him (we all know it LMAO). hell, that whole convo the girls have in the rain is so AziraCrow (“I know. I’m not your type” “...You have no idea” hits so much harder the second time, help meeeee.) “Lindsay” maybe being symbolic of Heaven and Aziraphale’s toxic relationship with them and their abuse? (the handwritten text messages in red pen make me think of angry notes on paperwork, anyone else?) because Crowley has never actually cared about what Hell thinks of him, just not getting into trouble (or him or Aziraphale getting hurt). Maggie is always chasing Nina. NINA NEVER GOES IN THE RECORD STORE. Just like Crowley always goes to the bookstore, to Aziraphale, Zira NEVER WENT TO THE FLAT (apart from The Swap but that doesn’t count imo). Crowley has always chased Zira, not the other way around. Always there to rescue him, always going to him for company, always relying on their shared connection, always US. OUR SIDE. All through season one, he comes to Zira every time to work together, never trying to work alongside Hell in any way that isn’t to save their skins or Earth, while Zira hides things from Crowley because he STILL thinks Heaven is ultimately good and will do the right thing if he can just show them. fix it from the inside. 
Maggie working up the courage to finally say something, to put herself out there, while Nina is utterly oblivious and then when she does realise Maggie has feelings, becoming standoffish, putting up that barrier, fighting it, denying it, ITS SO CROWLEY AND AZIRAPHALE IN THAT ORDER. the way I was fooled into thinking Nina’s trust issues are Crowley because he does have trust issues ofc he does BUT Crowley has ALWAYS TRUSTED AZIRAPHALE. has always relied on him. has always been hurt when Aziraphale doesn’t immediately reciprocate the way he expects (the holy water request, the bandstand, the “off in the stars” etc). he’s always the one putting himself forward. Aziraphale has always been the one to second guess everything, to fight their connection, their similarities, their friendship. the girls really made me think it was going to be okay when they sat Crowley down, even as my inner sirens were going haywire about Metatron interfering, they were telling Crowley he just needs to open up and it’ll all work out BUT HE’S ALREADY AT THAT POINT. he may not say it, and by gosh is that part of their damn problem, but he’s always SHOWN IT. he’s not Nina who needs time to heal and recover from her broken trust, he’s always been Maggie believing it doesn’t matter, they’ll end up together in the end anyway AND I WALKED RIGHT INTO THE TRAP THAT THIS MEANT THEY WERE GOING TO BE OKAYYYYYYYYYYY
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stealingpotatoes · 4 months
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in another universe, cal kestis and caleb dume/kanan jarrus would’ve been best friends. and everyday i mourn what star wars took from us
YES!!! and one of those universes is my rebel survivor au which you've given me a wonderful excuse to draw more of:
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(commission info // kofi support!)
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katz-chow · 3 months
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sorry sex with simon
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warnings: pnv, fem!reader, fluffy, edging/denial, msub, fsoftdom
simon doesn't know how to apologize besides throwing himself into your mercy. he loves you and can't think of any other way to express to you how never means to hurt you, how everything he does is to make sure you're comfortable and taken care of.
even after this stupid little argument that he had with you, he didn't even know why he was fighting. he just realized too late when he saw tears form in your eyes and your feet stomping off into your shared bedroom.
so here is his penance, his apology: giving you soft kisses on your shoulder as his arms hold you up over his cock.you whine and groan as his cock slips in and out of your dripping pussy. he didn't want to hurt you and he didn't want to make you feel any more discomfort so he, in turn, used more lube than he normally would. the sounds of skin slapping skin normally would have made you blush in embarrassment and cause you to curl up into him. this time around, you couldn't care less, the way he's making you feel was a clear juxtaposition to how to feel just an hour before.
you feel his breath, heavy and hot in the crook of your neck, you pussy pulses around him and over your moans, he gives you one in return. his tongue licks and sucks on your shoulder gently, "m' sorry baby...shouldn't have said that..."
you whine and wrap your arms around his neck and his back, your tits pressed against his chest, "can we...ah- can we not..." you suck in a breath, "do this right now, si? when you're in me?"
he mumbles something you can't process or hear as one of his arms unravels and goes to rub tight circles around your clit. your back arches into his touch and a loud groan of his name rings out.
"wanna show you...how sorry i am.." he pants as his dick throbs inside of you, so so close to cumming, fill you up in his sticky release. the snap of his hip dials down into a roll. he hums as he feels your body start to tense up as the tension builds in your lower stomach.
crescent indents form in his back as your nails dig in from the pleasure he's able to give you, the amount of bliss 10x as strong from the lack of such a euphoric feeling you've been feeling. his thumb rubs your aching clit just a bit harder and your groans turned into a cacophony of whimpers and high pitched squeals as your orgasm runs through you.
simon feels your body tensing up in his arms, and damn does his cock feel it too. the way your cushiony walls pulsate and clamp dowm on him, god he was hard, it was unbearable. he wanted to cum so fucking badly, been wanting to put a load in you for half an hour now but he won't let himself. he said he was showing you how sorry he was, and that's exactly what he's doing.
your breathing steadies itself and you curl up closer to him, resting your face onto the top of his head, smelling in his yours shampoo. your whines become hiccups as your high dies down, overwhelmed and tired.
"i'm sorry lovie..." he begins, his hand slipping out from between your legs and his hips start to roll his cock in and out of your raw pussy. you groaned and tense up at the overstimulation, clinging onto him.
he turns off his brain as you help him, pulling your hips up and down. he lets out a breathy moan and holds you closer, snapping his throbbing cock inyo your harder, faster. his lips on your neck as he prays to you a mantra.
"m'sorry..so sorry, lovie..." simon's close he can feel it, he just needs two words from you, that's it. he needs you to let him cum, god-seeing you sad is punishment enough, mixed with the pain of his tight balls and overly sensitive cock makes him a brainless mush.
he couldn't take it anymore as he pounds into you, mumbling messily into your ear, your scent overwhelming him- you overwhelming him. "m'sorry m'sorry...so sorry. m'sorry sorrysorrysorry...."
"it's okay, si...it's okay." god, that's all he needs as his prayers to you were answered, his mantra stops with a restrained moan, quickly turning into whimpers like a hurt puppy as you feel his thick cum fill you, dripping down his shaft.
his arms loosen the grip he has on you and you slide down his dick just a bit and he bites into your shoulder, the friction making him overwhelmed. the two of you sit like that for a bit, leaning on each other to stay upright. you don't even think simon had anything to think about.
"you okay?" you ask him, grounding him from his headless space that he had slipped to, dependent on you for everything.
you feel him nod and his arms lift you up, pulling out of you. he gives you a gentle kiss on your lips and your hands find his cheeks, wiping away his tears. "m' really sorry.."
"i know, baby...i know.." you assure him and he lays back onto the headboard.
simon riley would gladly give up his whole being for you, and luckily for him, you'll always accept it, holding him together until he stitch himself up again.
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