I've drawn Ulthane in a kilt. He already has a Scottish accent this was the logical next step.
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dunno if you’ve written this yet but could you write older bf! simon being edged or idk dominated the thought of it makes my brain go brrr🥴
ps. if you’re not comfortable w that ignore this:)
(i love your work btw 🫶🏼🫶🏼)
i haven’t written this yet because it’d dangerous for my overall health I NEED HIM SO BAD 🫶🏼
something had to be said about your older bf!simon and the natural dominance that seemed to follow him. you reckoned it was his line of work, having to be L.T- always having to be in the right place at the right time.
something he made look easy.
it wasn’t always easy, not really and not that he’d admit (to anyone other than you)
when it was just you and he, when there was no threat around the corner, when he could allow his mind to be quiet. that’s when things became really easy.
“being so good for me, si”
your voice was silken, spun sugar, supernovas- your voice was all consuming and taking over every inch of him until he thought he might become the exploding star of it all.
firm back against your chest, pressing you further into the arm of the couch. one of your arms slung over his chest, gently stroking the firm tone of his stomach.
other arm snaking around his waist, spit slick fist tight around his cock as you slowly tugged him off. simon’s face buried in the crook of your neck to muffle whimpers.
seven- he could count seven times he was on the precipice of cumming for you. seven times he nearly spewed hot streams of cum across your fist, coating your fingers.
he hadn’t cum once.
“sweet’art, i need it”
you cooed for him, lips pressing against the crown of his head as you felt his stomach twitching and tensing under your palm.
simon only burrowed back further into your touch, coiling himself up in the shape of your body. the hand that wasn’t tugging his cock was petting the soft hairs trailing towards it.
“i know, but you don’t really want this to end- do you?”
his chest cracked open with a groan, deep and guttural as he bucked his hips up into your hand. his cock, wet and messy, slipping straight through your hold as he practically fucked himself on you.
this was the simon riley you knew and needed.
only you saw this side of him, wrapped up in you and entirely pathetic. whimpers and pouted lips as your finger tips played with the head of his cock.
this was how you knew he was made for you, rough around the edges and unmovable by nature- but for you? leaking viscose pre-cum down your wrist like a natural spring.
“nah, sweet’art- keep touchin’ please”
dead before he’d let anyone else know you could render him fucked out like this, little secret just for you both. you’d probably kill anyone that saw him look this good, anyway.
veins in his neck bulging against the skin, cheeks red hot as his lips pursed with another wanton moan. body stretching out rigid like a snake sizing up its meal.
“that’s it, si- nice and easy”
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