#hugging all these close to my chest

[pokimoko]

I can't keep being fundamentally changed as a person by animated movies, it's just not sustainable.

[blamemma]

max verstappen and daniel ricciardo during the singapore grand prix drivers parade | 📸

[meownotgood]

i think we as a society don't acknowledge boxer!aki from ch. 46 enough

when he gets animated..... huuu...... uuuuu... godddddd I can't muster a single coherent thought like JUST LOOK AT HIM......

and the way aki fought this guy who looks way more buff than him but aki didn't even break a sweat!!! aki doesn't even look tired!!!!!! he's so lean and tall and pretty in that one panel like what if I just died fyfucikkkk

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

re: raised in amphibia marcy who is nothing but the cores host

beyond the psychological stuff im also thinking about the physical. the evil science possibilities. im just like. canonically its hinted that the core did stuff to marcys body just in the few months it had her to make its vessel more suitable. the plug ports that were apparently in her limbs bc otherwise she would be getting stabbed by those things. "this thing needs some calibration" about marcys body??? what did it mean by that??? and like u mention her being wired up to it in the original ask

anyways im up here thinking abt how much it mightve done to her if it had her for that long. if it had the same plug things installed in her limbs as she seemed to in canon shed probably need replacements if they happened when she was young enough and grew significantly since then.

also my mom used to work in the brain-computer interface industry and well. to get really any level of highly detailed or accurate data, let alone on the scale youd need to fully interface with the entire brain, you would absolutely need to have direct access to the brain rather than trying to go through the skull. theres no way this girl doesnt have a port of some kind implanted in her head for the core to directly connect to her brain.

hell maybe it doesnt wanna deal with biological organs and the problems that might arise from them. no big deal itll just have them replaced!

Aaaaagh dude i love your asks. Galaxy brain asks from my galaxy friend mutual.

Anyway. Yes i I have thought quite a bit about Marcy's whole deal. What Andrias cares about is her brainnnn that blob of grey matter that's somehow a biological supercomputer. He has no qualms in eventually getting rid of the body and keeping the brain in a jar, immortalized as an invaluable piece of hardware with the help of some shadowfish biotechnology (shhh lemme tell you a secret: he actually does care for her and love her and takes no joy in hurting her. He just doesn't love her enough to save her :3). Anyway, unfortunately, when he found this thing, her brain was surprisingly underseveloped. He had a vague awareness that the unfortunate coincidence of bipedism and viviparity so characteristic of homo sapiens resulted in them giving birth to useless, half-developed fetuses (as opposed to fully mature, egg-born pollywogs), but surely, by age three, a human would be more mature, right? He checked his archives on alien biology and, indeed, no. An average human's brain isn't fully developed until around age 25. Marcy may be smart, but she's still, by all accounts, a homo sapiens pollywog. He consults the Core. The Core wants a host. They want a body, and they want this brain. They will do with just the brain, is Andrias is too useless to secure them the body, but even if they're willing to wait for another body (stronger, bigger, more amphibian) to come around eventually, they know it won't work as well as with the original brain-body combination.

He decides to raise Marcy to be 25. He keeps her mind sharp and body healthy, or as healthy as possible. She undergoes many week-long sessions unconscious and connected to all sorts of wires as tubes. It's so normal for her, that by age 6 she knew how to get on top of the plataform or into the tank without falling, and how to put on her own oxygen mask. She always woke up feeling weak and hungry when it was over, and with one killer headache, but her dad always held the biggest fests for her with all her favorite food when it was over! She always looked forward to her sessions. Like a dog.

In these sessions, she would undergo several procedures. There's mossman, shadowfish and amphibian biotechnology involved. The point is to 1) make her brain Core-friendly - if it has many dimensions that would make things easier! And 2) translate the data from the Core into something that can be run in a biological machine. For which they need to understand and explore said machine. She only has one port, in the back of her neck, hidden by her long hair. It connects straight into her spine and her brain. In essence, these are fitting sessions. The Core is trying out their new house. Ever since she was little, they actually did use her brain to run tests and perform different functions. Most of the times it was mostly to study it, but as she grew older, they began using her whenever a function required too much energy, whenever something that would take forever to load with its own equipment, would render almost instantly with hers. They never left any data behind, erasing all evidence of their presence, and they never fully transported anything to this new extension, using only copies of data with the original files safe in the Core. The point is to leave the Core behind eventually and fully move on to this new computer, but not yet.

A few funny side effects!

Her blood is slowly growing more and more green as the years pass. This actually has less do to with brain stuff, and more as early preparation for eternal youth and immortality. It's mean to make her last longer. When she first meets Anne at age 10 - 11, her blood is a brown-ish color, but by the time things blow up when she's like 13-14, it's just a gross green. Her kidneys filter it out with time and her blood returns to its original red color, and Anne and Sasha see her real skin color for the first time, since before she always had this weird green tint, but they didn't know enough about humans to tell it wasn't normal. Seeing her blush red instead of green for the first time is kinda magical.

Migraines! Especially after a session. Especially when she does something the Core wouldn't like, because despite how hard they try to erase their traces, Marcy's most primal survival instincts remember.

More indirect effect but going several weeks a year without eating can't be good for her. It makes her feel very tired, dizzy and weak, even if she's eating normally, because three days ago she was starving.

The port in the back of her neck itches a lot. After becoming queen, she asked the royal physician that put it her to remove it, but he was scared of leaving her paralyzed, since it was so deeply fused with her nervous system. Sasha still thinks she should've had the guy publicly excecuted or something.

Idk if it counts but ?? Andrias wouldn't touch her if she was sick, so Olivia often found ways to give her a fever in secret or something to spare her. She did it to protect her, but it does mean Marcy spent a big deal of her childhood in bed, recovering from a session or a light illness.

The Core communicates with her nervous system through electric signals, and even thought they don't want to harm it, they still make her muscles contract a lot so she feels super sobre afterwards lots of muscle pain all the time.

There is no helmet in this one. No indirect connection. When Andrias puts the Core in Marcy, he goes all the way. Straight into her brain! They got a new PC :3

[the-red-hoodlum]

killing people who don’t get an animals consent before touching them &/or ignore when animals are visibly uncomfortable with being touched.

[skitskatdacat63]

The brainrot this literal 2 second clip had given me is insane

[fatalfangirl]

Almost Six Books Sunday

Hi, i’m around, just perpetually exhausted and still dealing with everything I previously shared. Which means I have not had the mental capacity to write! At all! Not even a little! But I have been reading because *escapism*

So I’m here to share five books I have recently enjoyed. They’re all m/m, most are a mind-the-trigger-warnings situation, and they have all kept me sane during times of e x t r e m e stress.

A Strange and Stubborn Endurance by Foz Meadows.

Byzantine politics, lush sexual energy, and a queer love story that is by turns sweet and sultry, Foz Meadows' A Strange and Stubborn Endurance is an exploration of gender, identity, and self-worth. It is a book that will live in your heart long after you turn the last page.

And boy if that ain’t the truth. I LOVED Vel and Cae so much and world felt full and rich (even if the main political mystery element was kind of unnecessarily convoluted). Definitely mind the TW, but I enjoyed this book greatly and thought Vel’s growth in particular was well done.

To say I look forward to the second book is an understatement.

A Taste of Gold and Iron by Alexandra Rowland

To prove his loyalty to the queen, his sister, Kadou takes responsibility for the investigation of a break-in at one of their guilds, with the help of his newly appointed bodyguard, the coldly handsome Evemer, who seems to tolerate him at best. In Arasht, where princes can touch-taste precious metals with their fingers and myth runs side by side with history, counterfeiting is heresy, and the conspiracy they discover could cripple the kingdom’s financial standing and bring about its ruin.

This book is delish. Yum yum yummy slow burn. Very character driven where (once again) the political mystery plot sort of takes a back seat to the more interesting relation developing. Kadou and Evemer have that sort of interdependency that I am weak for. WEAK I tell you.

Also the author wrote a fic for her own book and I love that for all of us.

Lord of Silver Ashes (Rowan Blood Book 2) by Kellen Graves

After two weeks in the attic of Danann House, Saffron anticipates the moment he can finally be reunited with Prince Cylvan--but that day is unexpectedly marred by a visit from Headmistress Elluin, who doesn't believe Saffron was the one to perform magic in Beantighe Village in the attempt to save Berry. Saffron will be expected to prove it; if he can't, every other human he loves will be arrested and executed for arid practice and conspiracy.

This book series is the type of thing that I could binge read forever. Is it ultra original? No. Are there TW galore? Definitely. Does our plucky mc have plot armor? The thickest. He should be dead like 10 times over, but is instead in a constant state of what must be agonizing pain from gruesome injuries he somehow just grits his teeth through.

And I love every fucking moment of this series. Saffron is BABY and his dumb high elf lover is ALSO BABY. I cannot wait for book 3.

Prince and Pawn (Perilous Courts Book 3) by Tavia Lark

Prince and Pawn is a high fantasy gay romance with hurt/comfort, forbidden pining, inappropriate use of vines, and more magic tigers. The Perilous Courts series is best read in order, but each book follows a different prince and his Happily Ever After.

I have read 4.5 of the planned 6 books in this series and I keep thinking “surely there’s no possible way I’ll enjoy this couple as much as the last.” And then I DO. EVERY. TIME. But Audric and Corin get special mention because their particular trope is one I’m extra weak to.

This series is really about the characters with the barest thread of a plot, but oh how yummy those characters are. I freaking churned through a book a day and then ended up on the author’s Patreon because I couldn’t get enough. BOOK 5 SOON!!!!!

Wolfsong (Green Creek Book 1) by TJ Klune

Wolfsong is the beginning of the Green Creek Series, the beloved fantasy romance sensation by New York Times bestselling author TJ Klune, about love, loyalty, betrayal, and family.

I will murder for this pack!!! Ox and Joe are just so very!!!!!!!! WEEPS!

Now does it take some wrapping your head around the whole “they were 10 and 16 and destined to be together”? Yes, yes it does, but I think this series does a good job of showing that love is not necessarily sexual—as good a job as it does showing family is not necessarily blood.

(I’m almost done with book 2, and Mark might be the ultimate babe.)

If you managed to make it this far, thanks for that. I’ll come up for air again soon.

[hime-bee]

Good morning Bree!! Happy Sunday, make sure you eat something and relax today. Or maybe get something done you’ve been putting off. I just played your new game and drumroll…. I loved it!! You did an amazing job as per usual ����‍💫💕

The art is so cool, I LIVEE for faith. Poor guy ☹️ I’d bake him something and take care of him.

-Goth anon

Good morning, Goth anon, and Happy Sunday to you as well~ 😊 I'm actually pretty hungry today, so I will get something to eat and chill for a bit before trying to write! I hope you're taking care of yourself as well? ^^

And hey, thank you so much for playing my game and enjoying it! 🥺 I can't express how happy I am, seriously, words aren't enough 😭 Faith is going through a rough patch, but I feel like he would be much better off with someone like you as a friend as well, Goth anon! Thank you for taking care of that poor lil man <3

[silverselfshippingchaos]

he really said that 💀💀💀 what a man 😍

[faceglitchsworld]

🖤

[neverendingford]

.

[lilaccmilk]

Couldn't stop looking at her t-t-t-t, face!

part 2

summary: merman bf who's obsessed with your boobs.

content warning: the reader is written as a female, he calls you ‘pretty girl’, mentions of boobs and pussy, nipple play, boobs sucking, cunnilingus, smut.

a/n: this has been in my drafts for soooo long.

Merman!Boyfriend who absolutely LOVES your boobs. He’s constantly wanting to touch them. If you’re in private, his hands are always fondling with them. If you’re in public, then he is constantly back hugging you, his arm grazing the underside of them.

His favourite way of hugging? It’s the kind of hug where he pulls you very close, both hands on your waist and your boobs pressed against his hard, sculpted chest. He grins when you tell him that you do know what he’s trying to do. But all he replies is with a shrug and “What do you mean pretty girl?”

He has always been curious about human bodies, but since he started dating you, he’s always touching some part. Your boobs though? They’re his personal playthings.

He has always just fondled them with his hands, imagine his surprise when he finds out that people suck on them too? He thinks he has never been more excited for anything.

That night you’re laid out bare in front of him as he just suckles on your nipples. Squishing them together and massaging them. When you ask him what has gotten into him, he pulls away hesitantly but replaces his mouth with his fingers playing with your nipples.

“You’ve never told me I can do this too pretty girl. You’ve been holding out on me yeah? Let me have this, I’ll fuck you so good later. I promise.”

Yeah so basically he’s just like a nasty dog, frothing and drooling at the mouth at the site of anything that accentuates your tits.

More often than not, he leaves your boobs very sore, but then he suggests that he’ll massage you very gently. Those times after he’s done massaging you (he never really is done, you just tell him to stop) he keeps his mouth and fingers busy in your pussy.

Absolutely filthy way of eating you out. Staying true to his promise he does fuck you till you see stars <3

[dante-mightdie]

my take on divorced!john fancying the nanny <3

he’s not fully in the clear yet. he’s separated from husband wife, she’s fully moved out and signed over custody of their son to him. all they’re waiting on is the divorce papers to be rustled up

it’s not uncommon for him to ask you to stay for days on end, caring for his son and watching over his home when he’s away on short-term deployment. more than happy to pay whatever it costs him. always comes home to spotless house and his boy ready to greet him at the door

except this time, when the mission wrapped up earlier than expected. his flight landing in at an ungodly hour so his arrival is unknown to you. the house is dark when he gets in, dead quiet just as he expected considering how late it is in the night

his footsteps are light, even lighter once he starts tripping over toys and his son’s playpen still strewn about in the front room. he’s not used to coming home to this with you about. he’s not mad by any means, but he can definitely feel the added personal touch you’ve let lingering on his home

he finds an empty tub of ice cream on the coffee table, his ice cream to be specific. it was unopened when he left and here it sits in front of the tv with the spoon still in it.

cheeky, he thinks. he begins to wonder how much of his stuff you pinch and replace before he gets home. he’ll make sure to tease you on that in the morning, watch you fluster before he laughs and ruffles your hair. ensuring you that you can have whatever you want of his, darlin’

when he stops in the bathroom to shower, he finds your bras and panties hanging up to dry next to the medicine cabinet. he can’t help the way it makes his stomach twist in a deliciously achy way. not because of the juvenile inclination that he’s seen your undergarments

but because they’re yours, and they’re hanging up in his en-suite bathroom. makes him wonder where you’ve been sleeping for a good few seconds before he actually switches on the bedroom light and sees his covers strewn about

another secret of yours revealed to soon. you’d complained about the sofa being uncomfortable to sleep on when he was away in a passing comment. his original plan was to buy a more comfortable pull out bed for his office

but this is much better. his sweet nanny curled up in his bed, drooling into his pillows. what side do you sleep on? do you occupy the place which originally belonged to his ex-wife? or do you stuff your face into his pillows, breathing in his musky scent?

he only wishes you didn’t wash the sheets before he came home :(

he finds you in the nursery, curled up on the rocking chair with a blanket on your lap and a book hugged close to your chest. snoozing peacefully alongside his son who was dozing in his crib. he checks on the infant, pressing a kiss to his forehead before making his way to you

the book you’re reading is the one he’d left on his bedside table with his reading glasses. some non-fiction book about the Cold War he reads before bed. he tucks it under his arm before reaching down to scoop your sleeping form up from the rocking chair

the blanket once covering you slips off, pooling at his feet and it takes everything in him not to let out a groan and wake you up when he sees you sleeping in nothing over this his boxers and his old lieutenants t-shirt

the engraved ‘Price’ branding your chest is simply an omen of good things to come :)

[paetalks]

nanami kento, very serious looking guy working in the finance department, having a little crush for the new girl who just got hired by the creative team.

you didn’t even know him, not until the christmas dinner party at the office. you were fairly new, only been working there for four months. working for a big company had not always been your goal, but when you got offered the position freshly out of college you couldn’t say no. it was well paid, in the city center, and allowed you to put your degree to use - which was a big plus, since finding a good job lately seemed to be stressful for people with an art degree (or so you were told by basically everybody).

when you first saw him, your heart skipped a bit. he looked insanely good, with his white shirt hugging a toned chest and short blonde hair falling slightly on his forehead. he was talking with your creative project manager, big hands gesturing softly while speaking and a light smile on his face. it was the first time you ever laid eyes on this beautiful man, and as soon as you realized you were staring a bit too hard, he had already made eye contact. eyebrows slightly furrowed, his eyes met yours. before you even knew, you were walking up to him.

“hi” you said, breathily. you felt your hands sweat and damned yourself mentally for behaving like a girl seeing a cute boy for the first time. up close, you realized he must have been a little older. not too much but the confidence he exuded was clearly not the one of someone in his early twenties - nothing like a guy your age. your manager looked around, confused on why you were intruding in their conversation, and eventually asked “hi, y/n. did you need something?”

you blushed immediately, looking away from the beautiful man, realizing there was no good reason to justify your sudden intrusion. you just saw a good looking man and walked up to him as if nothing else was going on. “oh…” your mouth slightly open, your mind racing to find something appropriate to say.

“i think we have not been introduced yet.” his voice was deep and you felt it in your stomach, like music at a concert. your eyes darted up to the unknown man, nodding shyly. “right. my name is nanami kento, pleased to meet you.”

you felt your insides melt while shaking his big hand, mumbling your name and smiling softly. five seconds later, you pretended like someone was calling your name from somewhere where your other colleagues were and excused yourself, quickly leaving just like you did arriving.

watching you walk away, nanami let out a soft smile, hoping the man in front of him was not going to pay much mind to it. “oh, don’t worry about y/n. she’s young, and new. she’s still trying to find her way around here, you know?” your project manager laughed awkwardly, still wondering what was all that about. kento shrugged, watching you from afar. your cheeks were red and the grip on the glass you had in your hands looked incredibly stiff.

what neither you or your protect manager knew was that nanami kento did know who you were. he had noticed you, maybe on your first or second day, when you got lost and popped up in the finance department. your colorful sweater and laptop full of stickers looked very out of place and when one of his colleagues approached you, letting you know that maybe you had walked in the wrong office, you did turn another color from embarrassment and started profoundly apologize. he thought you were cute, and funny, but the more he got a glimpse of you in the hallways, the more he noticed you wherever he were.

the break room, the coffee shop in front of the office building, the elevator. he found you in every room, even if you didn’t even know he was there. it was like he couldn’t get enough of you, like looking at you from afar was something he had grown addicted to in such a short time.

he wouldn’t have called it a crush, but whenever he needed to print something he would carefully choose the printer on the same floor your office was on - hoping that, when walking by, your door would be open and that he could catch a glimpse of you. okay, maybe thinking back, there had been a few moments in which he felt very infatuated by the idea of you…

looking at you from across the room, while zoning out on the conversation he was in, and noticing how sometimes you would look back too, he told himself that yes, that was definitely a crush.

idk i love the dynamics of stoic boyfriend x artsy girlfriend. wtv??? i’m done .

[lilacxquartz]

love you, love you, love you;

mr. crawling x reader

plot: some things are best expressed without the need of words — themes: spooning/cuddling, smut, maybe yan vibes — w.c: 1.1k

a/n: my first homicipher related fic. i want to try one for mr. silvair & mr. gap next, bc they were also my favs. this game has been taking over my life so much lately. like it’s been in my dreams, haaah.

masterlist • ao3

Mr. Crawling was always loud when he was excited within your company; his laughter filled out the vast empty spaces that were otherwise unadorned with familiarity. Whatever you once sought from those winding corridors was ever-fleeting, temporary, leaving you stuck within the confines of his company.

Yet, when he felt what you could only interpret as affection—that’s when Mr. Crawling then became different—quiet, soothing, kind but also… curious.

And when you would usually sleep, he would stand watch, knelt over the floor as per his usual stance but sometimes crouched near you, sometimes leaning back against the wall with his legs pressed up against his chest. He would watch you as his life depended on it, unwavering in focus and with eerie intensity. He would watch as your chest rose and fell, leaning close on occasion to catch the sweep of your breath and sometimes, he would trace the pad of his milky fingertips in long, languid strokes against your face. Always so delicate, so tender, but for the most part, quiet and even shy.

Having once caught a glimpse of Mr. Gap in your blanket space, however, set something territorial off for Mr. Crawling and he was never able to recover from such an invasion. The very idea that someone else was able to infiltrate what he deemed to be your space—especially someone who he disapproved of—wasn’t something he could stand for. Especially with the sort of trickster Mr. Gap was, he couldn’t bear to see you get hurt. It would kill him on the inside (and on the outside, too).

So, just as you were getting into bed to rest up once more, he too, slipped in under the covers with you. At first, you were startled as usual, turning to face him with confusion evident in your eyes, murmuring out some words in a language that he still could not understand. He repeated something back, the meaning lost and indecipherable upon your ears, though soon surrendering to emphasis using gestures instead. A hug to bring you closer, a reassuring pat on your head and a small, longing kiss over your nose.

You listened to his words again, repeating over and over like a broken record.

Perhaps he meant no harm, after all.

You turned your back to him and settled into his chest, finding that he was surprisingly warm for what he was. His taller frame encased your body, wrapping his ashen arms around your waist—accidentally brushing the fabric that sat over your breast—nicking the cloth ever so slightly. Your breath hitched in surprise and as though in sheepish realisation, he withdrew right away, terrified that you were upset with him.

You drew out a long breath, reminding yourself again, that after everything that has happened thus far…

That, Mr. Crawling does not want to hurt you.

That Mr. Crawling has only ever helped you.

So perhaps, right now, Mr. Crawling only wanted to be closer to you.

You relaxed your breathing, settling into his comforting shadow once more and allowed for his presence to envelop you. He repeated the soothing motions of his grappling arm, although he held onto you softer that time. His hands explored your body with a delicate touch, as though afraid of breaking you—of upsetting you again—his motions growing confident the longer that you didn’t protest. It wasn’t long before he, otherwise not disturbed by your lacking, conscious awareness, decided to explore further with you. Mr. Crawling’s fingers didn’t ask for permission that time, creeping beneath the clinging fabric, feeling your skin against his palms, inviting a pleased, almost delighted smile to curl on his lips.

The silence remained unbroken as Mr. Crawling continued his explorative focus on you; the quickly-building evidence of his need growing harder the longer he pushed himself behind your body, the repeated touches arousing something warmer within him. To both his surprise as well as your own—you were not repulsed, allowing him to creep even lower, below the skirt of the dress and up, brushing his hand up to your exposed skin and, reading into it—you communicated your consent from the moment you parted your legs, allowing him to get even closer.

Confidence surged in Mr. Crawling as he pushed himself into your hilt, allowing his hardened length to slip inside. Betraying the stagnant silence, he shuddered out a ragged gasp before giving into his own rising need; grinding himself into your sopping sex with steadily increasing fervour. His fingers clamped around the curve of your hips as he held you in place, slamming every last inch of himself deep into your core.

Ever touch-starved yet wanting nothing more than to surrender to the sensation of you, Mr. Crawling continued to drive his cock into your needy cunt, soon wrapping his winding arms around your body and holding on tight. He bucked intensely as you soon succumbed to breathless whimpers, incoherently begging for his name. Equally desperate whines rolled off the slip of his tongue as he found his lips pressed into the crook of your neck, dampening your skin with sloppy wet kisses—as many as he could give.

It felt overwhelming for you in a way to be worshipped like this but you did your best to keep up with such intensity, especially as the warm, tingling pleasure built up inside of you, too. You held on just as tight as he did, your hand seeking out his own—fingers weaving into his bony digits—interlocking and squeezing tight the closer you got, your grip and otherwise clenching need tightening simultaneously. To feel him losing himself inside of you was dare you admit, addicting, feeling him completely fill and stretch you out leaving you almost dizzied from the impaling force.

Mr. Crawling, like you, soon surrendered to the rolling bliss from the flick of his hips, feeling a surging warmth mount and rise, encouraging him to lose himself to the searing heat of the moment and you. Encircling your body in a possessive hug, he suddenly began to mutter out a new word in a strained mantra, again and again.

Given how desperate he seemed to be, you understood the meaning as ‘close’, especially as his actions grew more strained and less controlled.

“Close, close, close,” he repeated.

It didn’t take his chased release to catch up as his hips grew to a stutter, rutting out one final pump before melting into you. Mr. Crawling cried into your neck, spilling out the entirety of his overflowing love, feeling the pent-up devotion trickle down your thighs—yet not letting you move away—still retaining his claim on you.

Instead, he kept you even closer than before, not allowing you to part from him ever again (despite understanding your yearning for rest).

Words were never the problem, it seemed.

Mr. Crawling would have always found a way to… connect with you.

[dmitriene]

based on the ask i got in my inbox in september.

simon riley handles you carefully during the first sex after you gave birth to your child, the whole situation is overwhelming to you, the little bub that sleeps in her crib in the nearby room, his heavy cock splitting your drippy, tight pussy open as if new again, fondling at your sensitive, heavy breasts while you thrash and hiccup fragile mewls.

shimmering tears brimming at your lash line, clumping your fluttering eyelashes as you blink rapidly, pushing away the urge to roll your eyes back, the thick head of his cock slipping in, hugged snugly by your already fluttering walls, pulsing, scorching with their welcoming warmth and the gummy, gooey texture, clinging to every webbed vein around his shaft.

he's delicate, in the way he rubs a soothing palm against your chest, feeling the beat of your frantic heart, your supple skin warm to the touch, beading with sweat, as his chapped, thin lips plant soft, feathery kisses all over your face, catching the little crystals of your tears, as you keen just beneath his ear, tightening around his meaty cock that sheathes inside of you.

pooling strings of tacky slick, squelchingly wet as simon thrusts more slower and gentle than usually, rocking his hips forward, catching on every furrow of your brows, the swollen furl of your lips opening in a gasped moan, tiny and breathy from where your lungs burn, meeting every wet glide of his cock inside your spasming hole with a little gasps, each sunction sound of your pussy obscenely wet.

simon takes a good care of you when your mind goes muddled, fuzzy at the simmering heat you feel in your tummy, painted with stretch marks that he touches with a sweep of his fingers, cloaking you with his weight as he presses your lips together, kissing you with only a pure affection, each roll of his hips tantalizing, careful, as the calloused pad of his fingertip meets your twitching clit.

making your slick heat tighten around his throbbing cock, pulsing rapidly when you bow up from the mattress, tangled in the soft sheets, pinned against them with nowhere to go, as you hiccup and cry your sweet moans into his spit coated lips, eyes closing harshly when you come undone, soaking your thighs, the only sound in your ears is simon's purred praises.

main masterlist. quidelines.