After the life Simon Riley has had, it’s really not surprising that he just can’t get it up anymore. He’s tried, time and time again, but the blood doesn’t pump through him the same way it did. And it isn’t that he doesn’t have a sex drive, god no, one look at you and he wishes he could fuck you into the mattress until your tears stain the pillows and the only sounds falling from your mouth are screams of pleasure.
You walk around the apartment, his big t-shirt on, no panties underneath, and it drives him insane. You’re an entire decade younger than him, young and sexy, and he can’t help but feel guilty for letting you stay with him knowing that he can’t give you what you want in bed.
It doesn’t stop him from eating you out until your clit is puffy and your walls are rubbed raw by his calloused fingers. When his head is between your legs, he tries, he really does. He gets so worked up, grinding his soft cock against the bed, willing it to get hard so he can fuck you right after, but it never does.
All it ends in is you cumming on his face one too many times and him walking out of the room without saying a word in pure humiliation.
You don’t take it to heart, you know he beats himself up for it, saying he isn’t good enough, that you should find someone who can actually give you what you want and keep up with you at that. Every time you reassure him, that he does satisfy you, that he never fails to make you feel good regardless of how he does it, but it seems to go in one ear and out the other.
But tonight, tonight is different and you will find a way to fuck your man.
You lay naked on the bed, legs spread, juices glistening off your folds while Simon hovers above you. His arms cage your head in as he kisses you rough, his tongue sliding over your soft lips, yours entering to explore the expanse of his mouth. He kisses the length of your jaw, down your neck where he licks the salty-sweet skin, bites just hard enough for you to writhe beneath him, and sucks until purple bruises are left to ache in the best way possible.
Before he can lower himself between your legs, you let your fingertips brush just under the waistband of his sweatpants, and his mouth stills against yours.
“Si… just let me try something tonight. I really want to,” you say breathlessly, pulling away from the kiss, gazing up at him with a look that is more of a beg than anything.
He kisses your forehead, moving his hand down to pull yours away, but before he can you reach in deeper, squeezing the base of him and earning a rumbling groan from him instead. His fingers wrap around your wrist, not moving you, just simply holding on like he has to steady himself.
“Lovie, please. Don’t embarrass me now,” he whispers, voice rough and low, wavering ever so slightly when your hand begins to trail further up his limp cock.
You don’t reply, but you do run your thumb against his tip, swiping the precum beading from his slit, evidence of his arousal despite him remaining soft. Lips meeting him again, he’s reluctant, but eventually he finds your rhythm.
Pushing his sweatpants down, you pull his cock out, stroking it gently and your warm, soft palm against him feels like you're touching his raw nerves. Even if he couldn’t get it up, it is still incredibly sensitive from months and months of pent-up need and no sex. Not that you hadn’t tried before, because you have, and every time he gets frustrated.
There’s not much you can say to convince him to try again on the same night.
Nonetheless, you focus on his tip, gliding your thumb under the ridge, rubbing against his slit, and you feel his cock twitch barely in your hand. You pull his body closer to yours, resting his cock on your folds, and he hisses from the sheer pleasure of that alone. Your body heat, your slick, the thought of him touching your aching clit like this has him beyond needy.
“Just slide against me. It’ll feel good, yeah,” you say, nodding your head slowly in encouragement.
His hips roll against you, his cock sliding underneath your palm and through your folds, and he bites back a whimper while shivers run down his spine. Simon can feel his cock hardening, just barely, just enough that he might actually be able to feel your walls wrap around him, so he wastes no time in finding out.
“Please, please,” he says under his breath, begging his body to let him pleasure you in ways he usually can’t, just for tonight if that’s what it takes.
He grabs the base of his cock, positioning at your entrance, and it takes a few tries but his semi-hard tip pushes through your entrance. You gasp softly, the feeling foreign and orgasmic, and your walls clench hard around him. A guttural groan rips from his chest when he begins to rock into you, his eyes meet yours, passion and desire swirling around as his pupils dilate from the sight of you taking him regardless of the conditions.
“You feel so good, Si,” you moan, lifting your hips to give him easier access, glancing down every few seconds to watch the way his impossibly large and yet still soft cock rubs through your walls.
“You feel like a dream,” is all he can get out before his eyes are shutting tight and his fingers are tangling in your hair.
Your body meets his, helping him through it, helping him get to where he needs to be so that just for tonight, he can feel man enough for you. And when he cums deep inside of you, his tip pulsing with long, thick ropes of warm cum, ‘thank you’s’ fall from him repeatedly before he kisses you with a newfound confidence.
“Again Si, don’t stop.”
He doesn’t. He stays rocking inside you, cumming again and again until his cock is too raw, until your pussy is full of his cum, and you feel every last bit of him. When he’s done, he lowers himself between your legs, cleaning his mess and sucking your clit, watching you cry from pleasure, watching you squirm away, but there is nothing he could give you that would ever come close to the feeling of showing him that he is enough for you.
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A/N: since someone had an issue with the fact that i said the reader is a decade younger than simon and "young and sexy" let me clarify that i never specified an age anywhere in the fic lmao the reader could be 24 and simon be 37 the reader could be 35 and simon be 50 for all i care thats for you to decide and that is why i dont specify certain aspects of the reader i simply wanted to emphasize an age gap to make the guilt simon feels more profound simon finds the reader sexy and shes younger than him there is nothing to read in between the lines or imply about that literally at all
leon’s grumbled words just set you off even more, causing you to laugh lightly from your spot on the kitchen counter while you watch him methodically shoving groceries into the pantry with only a small amount of tension between his shoulder blades
“it was funny though,” you attempt to reason with him through your fit of giggles and then catch the tea towel that he hurls in your direction just before it smacks you in the face, “c’mon, it was just a mistake,” you say softly and begin to fold the rag over your thighs
“he asked you if i was your daddy,” leon huffs and shuts the pantry doors just a little bit harder than he normally would. he’s talking about the cashier from the grocery store who absolutely did ask you that—and then regretted it immediately after you answered
more giggles pass your lips as you recall the situation in your mind. leon is older than you by a fair amount and truthfully, you’re shocked that it’s taken as long as it has done for him to be mistaken for your father, “he felt real bad after though, huh,” you snicker
leon leans against the counter opposite you, folding his arms over his broad chest, “yeah well, you didn’t exactly help—answering the way you did,” he scolds, frowning at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen
“i don’t know what you me—”
“you said yes,” leon cuts your bold face lie off with a snap that doesn’t really have any heat behind it as he shakes his head slowly and then raises his eyebrow over the smile that’s pulling the corners of your lips upwards
“well,” you hum, coy and dragged out, “i mean, was i wrong?” you ask before you shrug your shoulders and suck your bottom lip between your teeth, leaving leon looking wholly unimpressed
“don’t start,” he warns and pushes off of the counter he’s leaning against to saunter slowly in your direction. his body pushes between your thighs, forcing you to make room for him as his hands plant onto the counter on either side of your body
he leans in slowly, kissing you quick and fleeting three times while your hands smooth against his face. greying, prickly hairs scratch against your palms and the underside of your fingers, tickling in a sharp kind of way as you drag your nails up and down his jaw
after a moment, leon turns his head and kisses your palm before hanging his head, allowing your fingertips to stroke through the—also greying—hairs at the nape of his neck, “my old man,” you tease lightly and grin whilst he's not looking
leon resigns to your teasing almost immediately, sighing and shaking his head for a second time as he commits to you getting it all out of your system. you tease him all the time and he never minds, especially not when you’re giggling and smiling whilst you do it
“what was your weapon of choice during world war two?” you ask, still scratching gently against his neck when he tilts his head up to fix you with a deadpan stare, “oh yeah, you’re right—silly question—definitely the guns,” you agree mockingly as well as nodding your head for good measure
with rolling eyes, leon puts his head down again and just grunts, low and rough, in response. for all that it’s worth, you adore leon just as he is, with his greying hairs and thin smile lines, certainly with his calloused hands that he’s worked hard for many years to get. he’s perfect to you but still, you’ll always tease and he'll always let you
“did you have to write on wax tablets in school? is that why your handwriting is so awful?” you giggle, eyeing the scattered notes that he leaves you before he goes away on an assignment. they're stuck all over the door to your fridge with location magnets from the many places he’s been to over the years
“uh huh,” he answers with sarcasm lacing through his tone because even he can admit to having awful handwriting. he once wrote a grocery list and then when you got to the store, neither of you could read a single thing from it—which is why the lists are your responsibility now
for a second, you fall into a comfortable silence while you conjure up something else to tease him with. he knows something is coming, you’re still giggling so you’ve clearly not flushed your system of your current form of entertainment
“you know what, you’re so lucky henry the eighth didn’t know about you,” you say suddenly with an obscene amount of—faux—seriousness that makes it really hard for you not to laugh over your own stupidity, “he would’ve had to behead you,”
leon’s head snaps up and confusion is written all over his face, “yeah, why’s that?” he asks, feeding into your teasing, even if it is just because he’s genuinely curious as to where you could possibly be going with it
you sigh deeply and pause for dramatic effect, bringing your hands back to his jaw and stubble, “you’re just too girl dad coded, you couldn’t have ever given him a son,” you explain, feeling laughter bubbling up within you, “and for that, he would’ve beheaded you, which is a shame, your head is very handsome,”
a frown pulls at leon’s eyebrows and then just as quickly as it arrived, it leaves, smoothing the creases out that formed on his forehead. he chuckles afterwards, low and breathy, gruff in that special way that older men do—it’s attractive and you love it
“fucking hell,” he mutters, though he’s smiling and watching you laugh more than he is. whilst you do that, he stands up straight, takes his hands off of the counter and relocates them to your waist, where he squeezes just enough to make your squirm, “are you done?” he asks, still sounding amused
in an attempt to get him off, you wriggle and try to knock his hands away but alas, he’s much stronger than you are—even in his old age, “yes! i’m done, m’done!” you yelp and hold your hands up either side of your head, surrendering
your laughing gets temporarily muffled by a solitary kiss. leon hums against your lips, pretending to be annoyed, regardless of the fact that you know he definitely isn’t, before he steps back and crosses his arms over his chest again while he waits for your incessant giggling to end
eventually, it does slow to a stop but by that time, tears are clinging to your lashes and your ribs ache. panting breaths escape past your lips, preventing you from speaking immediately. so, instead, you just blink at leon’s stoic self
“c’mon, we’ve still got groceries to put away,” he says once your breathing evens out. he steps towards you again, hands out and ready to grab you off of the countertop. except, he freezes when your fingers loop around his wrists to stop him
you gasp, “waitwaitwait—what pen did you use to sign the declaration of independence? did abraham lincoln really wear a big top hat? was the great depression really that depressing and—and was your childhood best friend a dinos—”
for a second time, leon cuts you off. this time he does it with a crushing kiss that silences your rambling upon impact. your spine goes rigid as he presses into you, growling as he slots your bottom lip between his own and grazes teeth over your sensitive skin
“you’re done,” he decides, once and for all, with his lips still against yours to keep you quiet. but, before you even have the chance to fail an attempt at replying, he leans over you and—with ease—hoists you up over his shoulder in one swift move
your hands dig into his lower back as you twist and flail, not really trying to get out of his hold but rather trying to see where he’s taking you as he’s strides out of the kitchen, but to no avail, “where are you taking me—what about the groceries?” you shriek when he rounds the corner and heads towards the stairs
“we’re going to find out if you can keep up with this old man,” leon drawls and you can quite literally hear the smirk on his face while he reaches up, slaps your ass and finishes lowly with, “maybe we’ll even find out if i’m just as girl dad coded as you seem to think i am,”
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beads of blood drip slowly down your chest. hot, wet and thick, decorating your skin in a shade of red that gets streaked across your body by leon’s wandering hands. usually, nothing you have to offer goes to waste, every drop is caught and swallowed with a moan but when leon’s hungry, he gets messy
losing himself in you, your body and blood is easy. you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted and after three days away on an assignment that left him starving, he’s taking beyond his means. however, even if you wanted to stop him, you wouldn’t, not when it all feels so good—he could drink you dry and you’d let him
it should hurt. often, you wonder why it doesn’t because it should. his teeth have sunk past the soft surface of your neck, pressed in deep and allowing your blood to flow from your body and yet, all you can feel is white, searing hot pleasure through to the end of every nerve in your body
but, as with most things in life, there’s a limit and leon is hurtling towards his at an alarming rate. he’s swaying—slumping even—against your back, moaning into your neck while his hips shift in uneven humps that grind his rock hard cock lazily against your ass as he gets his fill and then some
his rough noises mix with your own softer ones in the inches of space between your bodies. gentle whimpers clash with harsh groans and wobbly, high pitched cries get drowned out by animalistic grunts, filling your bedroom with a chorus of sounds that make you forever glad that you don’t share walls with your neighbours
large, greedy hands grope at your body, fingertips sliding up your waist and ribs to your chest where you become his canvas. each swipe of his thumbs over your pebbled nipples paints another part of your skin crimson and has you hissing out in euphoria while your aching cunt goes forgotten about for the time being
you’re creating a mess of your own too. slick coats the inside of your thighs, sticking them together every time they snap shut in a clench that makes your needy hole silently beg for attention. it’s a thin line that you’re dancing, barely on the right side of torture but you’ll get your own fill soon and then, it’ll all be worth it
knowing when leon is done before he does is a skill only you can possess. the signs are there and they’re easy to spot, even with cotton wool replacing your brain. he’s not swallowing anything anymore, he’s mouthing at your neck more than he’s sucking and he’s wasting more blood than he can afford to when you know that he’ll inevitably want more later
all good things must come to an end though and when one pleasure ends for you both, another—slightly different—one starts. so, there’s never any complaining when you sink your nails into leon’s thick thighs and start to writhe in his arms, because he knows what’s coming next
it takes a second for his body to catch up with his brain but the moment it does, you feel the sharp sensation of his fangs beginning to slip free from your skin. even though he’s sailed right past being drunk off of you and onto something that’ll leave him comatose later on, he’s still ever so gentle when he knows that separating from you isn’t even one of your favourite feelings
“fuckfuckfuck,” you hiss, wincing over a sensitivity that you couldn’t manage to explain to anyone else. it burns, aches, stings and fizzles the right kind of pain down your spine simultaneously when the sharpest point of his teeth withdraw, leaving you wholly empty and wanting something more
“m’sorry sweetheart,” leon slurs before he licks over the puncture wounds to lap up the last trickles of your blood. his hands squeeze tenderly at your waist, dimpling his fingertips into the softness of your stomach and then, he sags completely. with a dull thud, he flops onto his back and exposes the full extent of the mess he’s made of himself and god, he looks divine
his chest rises and falls in short pants, mimicking your own in more ways than one. his tanned skin is temporarily dyed a deep red, partially hiding the mottling blush that creeps up his neck and disappears behind the sticky mess of his chin and mouth. he’s covered in you, from the greying hairs of his stubble to the points of every single one of his teeth, everything coloured with you
against his stomach, his cock has gone deeper than red and started to purple around the leaking tip. shiny precome smears through the darker thatch of hairs that dust underneath his navel and just the sight of it makes your mouth flood, watering with the anticipation of getting your hands on him
“take a picture,” leon grunts, not bothering to finish the saying as he blinks at you through half lidded eyes that are burning an inferno behind a cool icy blue, “should see yourself,” he finishes lowly, letting his gaze trail down you body, prompting yours to do the same
you gasp at the sight. even after many occasions just like this one, never have you been in such a state. droplets of blood scatter over your thighs, some have dripped downwards towards your knees and some have gone inwards, mixing with your arousal to create a pretty pink sheen
“messy,” you whisper, flickering your eyes between your own body and his as the need to touch him overwhelms you. his cock twitches before your fingertips have grazed his skin, blurting out a thick stream of pre that makes his stomach glisten, “fuck, i-i need you,” you admit abruptly, unable to hold yourself back any longer
“mhmm, you’ve got me,” leon drawls and sinks back into the obscene amount of pillows against the headboard. he’s teasing, half assed and without his usual lilting tone but he still holds one of his hands out, allowing you to take it whilst you clamber—only somewhat—ungracefully into his lap
your thighs spread either side of his waist as you melt into him, pressing your chests together while you crush your lips unceremoniously against his. it’s a one sided kiss from the get go, leon has no energy left to give you and the results are sloppy, at best. your noses bump clumsily, your teeth collide with the extended tips of his and the stickiness of his lips creates a slow drag
he tastes like you, though. rich and tinted with something sweet that you moan over as he laps across your lips and tongue in a weak effort to kiss you back. he moans wantonly when you reciprocate and press your tongue against his, meeting in the middle of a filthy open mouthed kiss that can’t really be called a kiss anymore
leon’s hands smooth down your sides and to your hips, gripping with what little strength he has left to rock you downwards over his cock. your cunt glides along his length with ease, soaking him in a single—too quick—slide that makes the head of him collide with your throbbing clit
“oh god,” you yelp, breaking away from poorly attempting to kiss leon to throw your head back as your jaw hangs open, caught in a silent sob. electricity fizzles down your spine over the sudden friction to where you’ve been needing it for so long and now that you’ve got it, you have to chase it
you press upwards, planting your hands against the broad expanse of leon’s chest for leverage before you start to roll your hips, without his prompting. your humps are more even than his were, eliciting twin moans from you and him every time your pussy grinds up and down his rigid length
on the down stroke, your cunt presses against his heavy balls, kissing them and coating them in a gloss of your arousal and then when you tilt your hips upwards, the fat head of his cock nestles underneath your clit in another—sort of—wet kiss
it’s bliss. pure bliss shared equally between the push and pull of your bodies and leon’s calloused fingertips tracing the length of your spine, up and down in time with your hips. you can feel him everywhere, in front of you, behind you and beneath you and it’s beyond dizzying
the next roll of your hips is awkwardly timed with his cock bobbing upwards. his tip catches against your hole, dipping into the pool of slick that's ready to spill from you at a moment's notice but before he can sink into you, your hips correct themselves instinctively, leaving you and leon reeling in an abrupt, but shared, hiss
for a while you get stuck like that, riding him without ever letting him inside of you, no matter how many times your bodies will it to happen. it’s addictive for you both, the pleasure and the way you fit together like a two piece puzzle—like you were truly made just for each other—but, it’s not even close to being enough
“baby, please,” leon rasps, suddenly. it’s not a sound you hear often but any time that you do, it’s reedy enough to stop you in your tracks. though, coming to a complete halt seems to be the opposite of what leon was hoping for, “d-don’t, honey, fuck,” he stresses, squeezing your hips hard enough to leave little fingerprint shaped bruises that’ll stick around for days on end to be seen and kissed
your head bobs, nodding without fully realising why yet, “yeah–yeah, okay,” you agree in a gasp, still star struck by the sound he made as you shift your weight into your knees and sit up enough to wedge your hand between where your bodies meet to wrap gentle fingers around his cock
leon’s lustful eyes watch you carefully, completely enamoured with the size difference between your hand and his thick shaft. he follows your every move, unable to tear his eyes away while you jerk him off teasingly and collect a blend of your messes that make your fingers shine
slowly but surely, you guide his cock to where you’re dripping until the head of his cock slots against your entrance. the immediate stretch is delicious, causing your hips to stutter while your pussy spasms, simultaneously trying to suck him in and push his—albeit large—intrusion away
with a whimper, you lower your hips slowly, spearing yourself open around the tip of his cock with ease. once there’s no risk of him slipping out, you brace yourself on your knees and pull your hand out from between your bodies, feeling the smooth slip of your fingers against each other and as you look up at leon, you can’t help yourself
tentatively, you reach out and trace your wet fingertips along his top lip. it’s ever so slightly poutier than his bottom one and you love it enough to take your time going from one side to the other before tapping gently over his bottom lip, making him hum languidly
as his lips pucker to kiss your fingertips, you edge down on his cock. each inch of him that you take brings more pleasure than you ever thought possible. the stretch, the connection, the friction of every vein that ropes around his length dragging against your walls, it all piles up and up and up, until your body screams for more
fire prickles through your limbs and whirlwinds around the coil already winding tight in your stomach as sweat begins to bead along the divot of your spine. you suck in a breath, letting it expand your lungs until they ache while you concentrate hard on trying to take the last bit of leon’s length in one swift movement
“fuck, you’re s’tight,” leon keens once he’s fully seated inside of you and feeling every clench and shift of your warm cunt around him as you take a moment to get used to the feeling because it never–ever–seems to lessen, regardless of how many times he fills you up
“uh huh,” you whine eventually, with your eyes pinched shut. he’s so deep inside of you, throbbing with the brush of his slit against your cervix and as you give an experimental roll of your hips, it pushes him even deeper. which, apparently, short circuits leon’s brain
“move–need you t’move,” he grunts, bucking his hips up frantically. he does it with so much force that you slide up his cock and then bounce back down, creating a single slap of skin on skin that echoes around the room in tandem with your wrecked moan
your back arches while your hands walk over his torso, settling over rippling muscles low on his stomach as you begin to pick your hips up and drop them back down. the air in your lungs gets punched out on every bounce, as if it had to be expelled to accommodate the sheer size of him
gradually, you build a pace. taking your time to indulge in the feeling of leon underneath you, surrendering to you if only for a while, which isn’t something that’s normal when you’re in bed. so, when it does happen, you take every little sensation in, committing it all to your memory
bounce after bounce, you start to rise off of his cock a little more before you slump back down in an even rhythm. you’re using him like a toy, fucking yourself with his cock and taking him in his entirety over and over and over again
leon moans raggedly, harsher and louder as everything builds, bringing his stomach muscles to tense underneath your nails, “can—shit—can feel how wet you are,” he groans out in between his noises, sounding just as exhausted as he looks
“yeah?” you pant, tipping your head to the side as his fingers tickle sluggishly over your thighs. truthfully, you know that he can feel it because you can feel and hear it too. amid every other noise, there’s the sloppy sound of your cunt being used for all it's worth, “s’all for you,”
another moan rips out of leon’s chest, making a smile pull at the corners of your lips as you sit back. your spine straightens, plunging his cock into your pussy at a new angle. he nails your cervix, a dull, bruising pounding and that’s where you need to be
your stomach twists in a delightful pain while your hips slow ever so slightly to a grind that keeps the head of his cock slipping over the sensitive spot deep inside of your body. the pleasure burns and you give into it immediately, allowing your back to arch in the opposite direction
“there, right fucking there, keep going’ y’gonna make me come,” leon rambles wildly over the tiny change in position. his fingertips dig into your thighs, gripping and dragging his blunt nails over your skin
an elated giggle bubbles out of your chest, “already, big guy?” you tease, although you’re probably just as close as he is but you’ll never not take the opportunity to tease, especially when he’s blood drunk and hanging on your every word
before leon can reply, you gain momentum again. you’re going in for the kill, leaning back and pressing your hands into his thighs, letting your own nails bite into his skin so that the words that died on the tip of his tongue turn into sharp hisses
the blood in your veins turns molten, thrumming and whooshing in your ears and leon picks up on it straight away—like he always does. you watch as his fangs bare instinctively and his tongue darts along his bottom lip because of his insatiable hunger
“peckish?” you ask innocently and leon nods quickly, “think you’ve had enough,” you pout with faux sympathy and to your delight, leon gasps and jerks his hips up pathetically, jostling you in his lap
“no,” he answers sharply, swallowing thickly as his eyes trail to your neck and then down to the mess still staining your chest, “got more for me, you always have more for me,” he almost begs and well, he’s not wrong
his gaze lingers on your chest, on the art that he created over your swaying tits. the blood has started to dry but your hands still dart away from his thighs and drift slowly up your body, trailing over your waist and up to your nipples to swipe through the drips
your thighs tremble, bearing the brunt of the relentless pace that your hips move and roll in, while your fingers start to play with your nipples. the first tweak makes your cunt clench like a vice, the second zaps lightening down to your stiff clit and the third throws you closer to your orgasm
“could bleed me dry, i’d let you,” you admit candidly, letting words stream from your mouth before they register in your brain, “feels so—ohmygod—fucking good when you make me bleed,” you whine as tears start to sting at your waterlines
leon’s too far gone to answer, lost somewhere between sex and hunger but his impulses take over and force one of his hands up your thigh. your clit throbs in anticipation and when you next slide down his cock, his thumb skims over you, setting your body alight
you cry out, wailing with tears streaming down your cheeks as it feels like he’s touching exposed nerves. your entire body shakes and your hips fall out of rhythm but it doesn’t matter, you’re too close to unravelling to care
“m’gonna come—i need to,” you blurt, focusing on the feeling that you’re racing towards and somewhere in the back of your mind, you think your desperation must be contagious because suddenly, leon’s hips are bucking up to meet yours
the clash of your skin against his is loud but the hammering of his cock into your puffy cunt is heaven. his thrusts are full, pulling his length all the way out of you before plunging in back in to nail your cervix hard enough to bruise it, surely
his moans turn animalistic again, driven by a need to feel you coming around him and he knows you’re almost there. you’re tightening around him in spasms, your clit is twitching under the unrelenting swipe of his thumb and the tears pouring down your cheeks is always a good sign
you’re right there, a live wire in his hold and you can’t stop the pressure that’s building in your stomach, “it’s—i’m gonna—leon,” you shout and sob and then, with one last devastating thrust and a sickening pinch to your clit, everything snaps, all at once
distantly, you hear yourself choke on a breath while your body goes rigid, tensing until it hurts and effectively trapping leon’s cock inside of your pussy. your eyes snap shut, bursting into nothing but white as your heartbeat is felt in every single part of your body
leon’s coming too—you think. a familiar warmth spreads throughout your stomach, filling you up in thick, gushing, waves but leon is silent, succumbing to an orgasm that causes his body to go loose and limbless underneath you
“oh fuck,” you whimper, your tone wobbling, when your peak starts to cease and the aftermath begins to creep in. your body sags, collapsing forwards onto leon's chest while you shiver through the overstimulation that's threatening to grasp you
together, your chests heave. in and out at the same time while the thought of catching your breath feels impossible. exhaustion laces your blood and keeps your eyes closed as leon becomes your mattress and his strong arms wrapping around you becomes your blanket
tickling and tracing is too much, too soon for your body to handle so instead, he rubs gentle circles down your back. you groan under the tension of his fingers and you’re sure you’re drooling on his chest but if you are, he doesn’t say anything about it
his cock starts to soften inside of your pulsing cunt, sending a shudder through both of your bodies as a spill of his come leaks out of your hole and drips down over his balls, adding just another layer of stickiness to the pre-existing mess between you and him
you're floating in your favourite headspace, swimming between the exertion of sex, the effects of leon feeding from you and the dull aching from your puncture wounds. it keeps you pliant in his muscular arms and it's a long time before you're present again
eventually, your own little dreamworld gets interrupted by the prick of leon's fangs along the top of your shoulder, prompting you to automatically expose your neck to him as you huff a light hearted,
“greedy”
thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a kiss if you do, mwah ily! send prompts to my ask box!
did u know if u grab a boy’s head and fuck his mouth with your fingers eventually you can see his pretty little mind going dumb as he turns into a flustered drooling little slut for you? #lifehacks
Because the idea of two young best friends vikingr, who didnt yet explore sexually but just love being with each other
The idea of young eivor and vili just being like "that's my best friend" while trying to explain away why their heart beats faster around another
And then they get separated by the sea, and decades pass and they still think of each other from time to time
Eivor finds he enjoys the company of men, and the first time he picks up a burly guy with dark short hair and then he has the "oh. Oh." Moment of realisation, but then it's whatever Vili is in England who knows where and they'll never see each other again
But then he gets a letter and he moves across England the fastest he can because Vili called for him, and he sees him and it's like no time passed at all
And then Hemming Jarl tells him how nice it's to see them together again, and Eivor has a realization that this old man knew, he always knew that what stirred between him and his son was more than friendship, and he used it knowingly to get Eivor to his side faster because he knew Vili would need him.
But then when they finally get together they know that despite their feelings they have responsibilities that separate them. So Vili becomes Jarl, and Eivor returns to his clan but still it doesn't change the fact that they were their first love and they'll remain that for each other.
The entire range of human skin tones varies from so pale white that it's almost kind of blue, to so deep black that it's almost kind of blue, and I think that's beautiful. Do you love the colour of the guy.
