Simon’s Not Vocal During Sex. Like Before You Knew Him Well You’d Even Get A Little Insecure About

"what are you doing?..." your boyfriend's words come out breathlessly as you place his head between your thighs. squeezing his head between them playfully.

his steamy hot breath against your pussy, huffing like a dog in heat as you squeeze his head between your thighs. drool coating his lips as he feels your pussy twitching and clenching against the back of his head.

it was so good that you couldn't help the way you were basically humping his head. clenching your fingers around his hair and pushing him harder against your needy pussy.

a groan comes out of his wet mouth as your feets brush against his sensitive nipples. the only thing that's separating your cold feets from making contact with his hard nipples is the fabric of his shirt.

throwing his head back into your pussy, causing a whine to rip out of you as you feel his head hitting your wet clit.

your boyfriend couldn't help the way he took a hold of your feet, pushing it against his raging hard on. his red tip leaking precum through the fabric of his pants.

and that was the night you realized your boyfriend had a thing for your feets.

art credits to @kakitsubata0510 on X.

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the sambucky scene from Captain America: Brave New World

Simon never heard his father say sorry, or please, or thank-you, or I love you.

In their house, when his mama would put down hot, heavy casseroles, her skin damp with sweat, eyes darting for some sweet words, his father never said one word of thanks, let alone 'some'. Only waved his thick, impatient hand.

His father never took the plates to the sink. Never noticed when she stayed up at night to sort the screws by size and purpose—organizing the chaos he left behind just to find one damn hammer.

His father never said ‘please can you—’ only grunted with that bitter mouth, glared with those unkind eyes when he needed something.

Simon never heard him say I love you. And he couldn’t believe his eyes the day his father plucked out his baby brother from his mama's arm, and didn’t spare one glance for his Ma. She didn't deserved that, did she? Her weak frail body, cracked murmuring lips — she should be celebrated with adoration, comfort, love.

Love, and an infinite of it.

His father never sat beside her just to drink tea. Never told her about his day. Never asked about hers — what she did, or liked, or wanted. Never reached out his thumb, however calloused it was, to wipe away the sprout on her chin. That he was grateful she's next to him, that he loved her.

So when life happened, and Simon was left to pick up his pieces and place them in a way he wanted to be—he thought whomever he will be, anything, but his father.

Anything but him.

And then life happened again but this time it arranged itself in beautiful ways. Because you came with it this time. You and all your silly lovely ways, you who kissed your knee before resting your chin, you who cheered up catching up with fridge' light switching off, you so beautiful, so kind, made up of sundust. His sunshine — lighting up his world.

And God, he was so, so grateful. Every moment, every day !

“I love you,” he’d say the moment he wakes up next to you. Pressing his love on your lips, on your shoulder, on your neck.

“I love you,” when you spill milk in the morning daze and stare at it like it might disappear.

“I love you,” when he wipes your chin and kisses your forehead.

“I love you,” when he takes your hand in his and rubs it between his palm, why ? Because he'll spend his whole life keeping your hands warm than anything else.

“I love you.” because he loves, loves, and loves you so much that it hurts, so much that it heals, so much that it's everything sweet ever happened to him.

“I love you.” for all the ways his father failed, and Simon too, as a son, as a brother — failed to save his mama and lil' brother. I love you, because in loving you he is allowing himself to be loved.

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You two are such fuckin' drama queens. Even when you and Simon are angry with each other (or, rather, you're angry with Simon and he's... rolling his eyes like the drama queen that he is), you still want and need your daily dose of love and affection, 'cause how else will you two function?

So yes, even when you've pissed each other off, where the hell do you two think you're going without having a good morning kiss? Where did it all go wrong?

And when Simon's been exiled to the couch for the 38484975th time, you're right there with him because what the fuck do you mean he has to go to sleep without you in his arms? Who will you glare at affectionately when he hogs the covers?

Hell, angry cuddles are the best cuddles because why else would Simon lovingly hate the way you bury your face in his neck when you're the big spoon because he's highkey lowkey ticklish in that area?

Just fuckin' dramatic, I swear.

Not even two braincells amongst them.

Physical Contact Masterpost

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Super soft intimacy

Casual Affections

Seeking out physical affection

Romantic, non-sexual intimacy prompts

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First Kiss Prompts

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Places for kissing

Angsty Kisses

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