#there's only so much mindful breathing I can do before it drives me crazy too

[natjennie]

that's so annoying :(

[feralgirlfeelings]

miguel o'hara breeding kink smut cause i'm ovulating rn

pairing: miguel o'hara x female reader

tags: established relationship, breeding kink, praise kink, creampie, little bit of dumbification, little bit of orgasm denial, p in v, unprotected sex, female reader, afab anatomy, dom!miguel, oneshot

SO NSFW. minors dni!

spanish to english translations are at the bottom :)

word count: 992

he has you lying down with your ass up, pillow under your hips, and a firm grip on your hips. he whispers sweet nothings into your ear and about how much he wants to fuck you.

miguel slides his thick, hard cock in between your folds, soaking in your wetness, before lining himself up at your entrance. he slowly pushes into your tight cunt.

"fuuuck, i missed this," miguel groans, holding back the urge to plunge deep inside you. you bury your face into the sheets as you feel the mild ache of being stretched out. he continues to slide in until he reaches the hilt, his tip pushing against your cervix.

he pauses to give you a moment to adjust to his girth. you feel so full, you can barely breathe. "go slow miguel, you're too big," you whine.

he chuckles, "lo estás haciendo muy bien, cariño." he starts to pump into you, straining to keep a slow pace. your heavy breaths and soft moans fill the room.

as he slowly thrusts his dick into your tight cunt, the previous sting of being stretched transforms into a throbbing pleasure.

you feel a coil start to form in your lower abdomen and your moans start to get louder, his gentle pace no longer being enough for you. "mm, fuck me harder, miguel," you plead.

"anything for you, my princesa." he tightens his grip on your hips as he drags his dick out until his tip is just slightly kissing your entrance. he then slams his hips against you, driving his cock so deep inside you, you swore you felt it in your stomach.

you weren't prepared for the sheer power that this man is fucking you with. he thrusts into you at a dizzying pace and you can barely choke out his name.

"te sientes tan bien." he slaps your ass, delivering a sharp sting that makes you inhale sharply, "fuck you're so tight." he grabs your asscheek, groaning at the site of himself sliding in and out of you.

you moan in response, barely comprehending what he was saying. you were so fucked out of your mind and could only focus on the orgasm that you were so close to having.

just as you feel yourself almost reach your peak, miguel pulls out, leaving you empty. your poor walls clench around nothing. "miguel!" you whine in protest, "put it back in!"

he grabs your hips and flips you onto your back, settling himself in between your legs. "i want to see your pretty face when you cum." he separates your folds with his cock, rubbing against your sensitive clit. you wrap your arms and legs around him and he buries his head into the crook of your neck, before plugging you back up again.

all you can do is mumble his name over and over again as he continuously rams into you. every pump delivering mind-numbing pleasure. the orgasm you were robbed of had crept back, and once again you felt a tightness in your stomach.

"i'm gonna fill you up, fuck a baby into you," he groaned in between the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your soft flesh.

his words drive you crazy. the thought of being stuffed full of miguel's hot, thick cum brought you closer to the edge. he knows you're close, so he pounds into you faster and harder, chasing your release.

pressure builds until you feel the tension wound in your stomach burst. you cry out his name as your walls contract and you cream around his cock. he groans at the feeling of the added slick and your pussy squeezing around his dick.

he doesn't stop after you come down from your high. "you did so good, mami," he whispers in your ear, "ahora es mi turno." he holds you in place by your hips and fucks his dick into you, driven by a primal desire to fill you with his seed.

you're overstimulated and fucked out, your body limp and your eyes rolled back. all you could think about was how badly you wanted to be bred by miguel. "m-miguel," you stutter, "breed me. p-please."

"te voy a llenar con mi semen, te voy a follar hasta que estés embarazada. you're gonna make such a pretty mommy. f-fuck—" his thrusts get more erratic as he inches closer to his peak. he groans out your name before slamming your hips down onto his dick. he shutters as he releases thick ropes of cum into your desperate cunt, flooding your velvety walls. all you manage to do is let out some strained moans. nothing mattered more in that moment than you taking his seed. he makes sure to stuff his cum deep inside you, his tip jamming the entrance to your fertile womb. he pauses for second to catch his breath, before slowly rolling his hips, just to make sure he gave you every last drop.

he stops thrusting and collapses on top of you, but keeps you plugged up with his dick. his excess seed starts to dribble out of you. you're both panting, sweaty, and exhausted. he moves the hair out of your face and meets your lips with his for a gentle kiss. "look what you do to me. me vuelves loco, cariño,"

you let out a weak giggle, "you want my babies?" you ask playfully. you tangle your fingers in his hair, lazily combing through his messy locks.

"yeah," he returns a chuckle, "you're too pretty to not breed." he starts peppering your face and neck with pecks. "eres mi bonita esposa."

"i think you'd make a great father," you smile warmly and interlock your fingers with his. "you know...usually it takes a few tries before it takes."

"oh?" he asks amusingly, "well, i guess i'll have to fill you up again."

you feel his dick start to harden again inside of you. you brace yourself for another round.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

translations: ("lo estás haciendo muy bien, cariño" -> "you're doing so good, sweetheart") ("te sientes tan bien" -> "you feel so good") ("ahora es mi turno" -> "it's my turn now") ("te voy a llenar con mi semen, te voy a follar hasta que estés embarazada" -> "i'm gonna fill you up with my cum, fuck you till you're pregnant") ("me vuelves loco, cariño" -> "you drive me crazy, sweetheart") ("eres mi bonita esposa" -> you're my pretty wife")

hope you enjoy!!! >:0 btw this is my first time writing a fic that included dialogue in spanish, so idk if things are all well-written or gramatically correct. i tried to take some tips from spanish-speaking miguel o'hara enjoyers, but if anyone wants to correct anything or give me tips, i'm super super open to it!

[bookishdreamer28]

This man and his damn sexy voice was all I could think about, so hope you'll enjoy this one <33

"Where were you all this time?!"Sylus appeared in front of you in an instant once you walked in home, looking extremely worried. And to be honest, you couldn't blame him. His life was full of dangerous things and before he met you, it was easy to deal with them. No fear to eat him alive every day, no endless text messages just to make sure that you were ok, no sleepless nights just to make sure that you will always lay right in his arms.

But even though he knew how dangerous things were, a selfish side of him made him see just how calm and perfect everything seemed when you were around.

"Hello to you too"

"Y/N I swear-"

"Stop stressing over nothing. Everything's fine. I'm here now as you can see." You laughed lightly and gently touched the side of his face, caressing it. Sylus exhaled a long breath at the warmth he suddenly felt on his cheek, and his heart. You were unharmed. You are ok. No need to worry.

He turned his head away from your touch and you felt a bit taken aback.

"Love I-"

"You know, at least a message would have made me a little less paranoid" There he was. The grumpy but caring man you so adoringly love.

"Next time I'll consider doing this first"

"Next time?!! Oh no there won't be next time. If it necessary I'll glue myself on your side just to make sure that no one will harm you." He followed closely behind you as you walked in your room. You sat on the bed and started taking off your shoes but Sylus kneeled right in front of you to do it himself.

"Let me take care of you sweetie" Ah this nickname. Never getting old when you hear it coming from him. His voice has been making you feel things since day 1.

You stared at his face as you noticed that he still had his eyebrows furrowed. Like he was still pissed about something.

"Sylus, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong is that- you're driving me crazy" He was face to face with you now, an angry look on his face. His thump brushed your lower lip gently and you felt the heat rising.

"You're driving me so crazy, that there are times were I hate it" he leaned in to tease your lips with a small peck "and other's I want to do nothing more but kiss you for hours" and that's what he did next. He collided his lips with yours, all the tension running through your bodies wild.

"These lips of yours" he said in between the kisses "will always have me on my knees for a taste".

His hands went slowly down to your waist, as he picked you up in his arms so he can sit down on the bed and let you rest on his lap. The kisses did not stop for hours but once you eventually stopped, Sylus made sure to take care of you just like he promised. You ate your dinner, prepared the bed and once you laid your head on his chest and his arms engulfed you in a sweet hug, he felt happy. Happy cause you are here. With him.

"What's in your mind sweet girl?" His voice soft. His hand rubbed soft circles on your arm and you looked up at him.

"Nothing I just...I love you. So much" you nuzzled your head in the crook of his neck. If only you could see his face right now. These three words leaving your mouth always made him weak. So damn weak, that the thought of having someone like you loving him, felt like a dream to him. A dream that he afraid that it was going to stop amd then wake up back to the harsh reality. But he wouldn't let anyone or anything take you from him. The reason of his happiness.

He stared down at you, with so much love in his eyes as he replied:

"I love you" His softly grabbed your chin, bringing you closer to his face so he can seal his lips with yours into another feverishly kiss.

[ssahotchnerr]

pleasepleaseplease, if you're willing ofc 🫶, can we get a little something where jack is trying his absolute hardest to get hotch and r together during the christmas season?! (i can only imagine the romcom chaos and deliciousness that'll involve haha!) 🙏❤️🎄

mistletoe mischief

the dream!!!!! & jack receives some assistance from morgan also :) cw; bau fem!reader, mutual pining, mentions of food, typical cm case talk, bau family banter, feelings realized (with some making out <3), fluff 🤭 wc; 1.5k

It had become tradition for everyone to go to Dave's house for Christmas Eve. And that meant everyone - the team, the kids, partners. The more the merrier.

It was a time to enjoy each other's company, laugh, exchange gifts and indulge in delicious food and treats. It was a nice reprieve from the hectic stress that the holidays brought, and everyone was happy to have it.

Whereas Jack had a different approach to the night. He had decided, that tonight would be the night you and his dad got together. He would make sure of it.

Only, it wasn't as easy as he thought.

All night Jack's done what he could, in hopes of initiating something between the two of you. Dinner was easy, he had sweetly asked you to switch seats with him - how could you have possibly said no? He persuaded his father to team up with you for the 'reindeer games', like holiday bingo, or unscrambling Christmas songs. That had been a small victory; Aaron giving you a celebratory hug when you were the first to call bingo.

But it still wasn't what he hoped. Things like that worked at school, if someone had a crush on another - they sat together in the cafeteria, they teamed up as partners in class, they played together at recess. (Sadly it was snowing outside, and Uncle Dave didn't have a swing set.)

Defeated, Jack found himself slouching on the couch, pouting alone.

Morgan had been the first to notice his minor sulking, making his way over. "What's on your mind big man?"

"Nothing." He mumbled under his breath, picking at the cookies on the plate you had put together for him.

"Nothing? For someone Santa's visiting tonight, you don't look very excited." He sat down, giving Jack's shoulder a pat, an invitation to open up. "Wanna tell me what's up?"

Jack kept his eyes on his treats, toying with the idea of sharing before sighing, asking if Dad liked you. Like really, liked you.

Derek's lips pursed. His expression changed to one of uncertainty, mulling over the situation.

"That's the million dollar question right there. We think so," Derek confessed, thinking back to all the times where you and Aaron seemed much too comfortable. The constant, lingering stares. Aaron going soft on you at times. The fear in your eyes when Hotch had encountered an unsub at gunpoint. This had occurred recently, and afterwards when Hotch was deemed safe and sound, you had refused to leave his side altogether.

"What have you seen? I'm sure you know what's going on more than the rest of us."

Jack nodded, perking up slightly at his uncle's vague admittance. His lips pulled into a smile, "Well, she is over a lot."

Derek grinned, his head tilting to the side. "Really."

"Yeah," Jack took a bite of his cookie. "We have a lot of fun. She brings over pizza for movie night every Friday if she and Dad aren't working. Cheese for me. Pepperoni and sausage for her and Dad."

"They share, huh?"

"And then Dad spent a lot of time picking out her Christmas present. But they haven't kissed." Jack sighed frustratedly, an innocent confusion on his face. "That's what grown ups do when they love each other, right?"

"It is pretty standard," Derek affirmed, amused himself at the confirmation something was, in fact, going on. It's only been driving the team crazy for weeks.

He, as well as the others, have confronted you about it numerous times, knowing that if they went to Hotch instead, he would confess nothing. But you reacted similarly. A shrug and a "just friends" before switching to a different topic.

"I tried all night too." Jack's bottom lip protruded in a pout once more. "But nothing works."

"Well..." A smile formed on Derek's face. "Maybe you just need a little extra help."

-

"Rally up the troops." Penelope clapped at you, to which you snorted an airy laugh through your nose. "Don't just sit there. I have been shopping since Halloween and I've masterly selected each and every gift and I have been itching to see all your reactions. I almost gave you yours two weeks ago."

"Okay, okay," You surrendered, throwing your hands up. You knew better than to face Penelope's driven wrath.

"You better," Her expression was sharp, pointing a warning finger at you. She hurried away as another laugh escaped you, while you also opted to take one more drink.

As she left the room, Jack entered.

"Hey Jackers," Your face brightened at the sight of him, putting your drink aside. "I heard it's almost time for presents." You raised your eyebrows, a soft smile on your face. "You excited?"

Jack nodded, a glint in his eyes. It was rather mischievous, similar to the one he gave Aaron when he wanted to delay going to bed early, only much more so. "Can you help me with something first?"

"Of course I can," You agreed within a split second's notice. Jack grabbed your hand and led you away just as fast. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah."

He led you towards Dave's foyer. It was dimly lit, shoes scattered amongst the welcome mat. God forbid someone stained Dave's carpeting.

Aaron and Morgan were just coming back inside; Aaron looked a bit agitated, per usual, while Derek was sporting his famous, cheeky grin.

" - I don't know why you would say that." Aaron continued, tossing an annoyed look over his shoulder to Morgan. As his gaze returned forward, and made eye contact with you, the softness in his face returned instantly.

"Is everything okay?" You wondered, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you and Jack came to a stop.

"Morgan said my car alarm was going off." Aaron shoved his keys back into his pocket, leaving Morgan's side and favoring yours. "And evidently lied."

"Lied?" A laugh escaped you, perplexedly looking at Morgan, seeking an explanation as well.

"My bad." He waved it off, giving Jack a wink. That was suspicious, but he switched topics before anything could be said. "Oh, would you look at that."

His hand raised, his index finger pointing upwards, directing right between you and Aaron. Both your gazes followed.

Mistletoe.

Oh.

Your eyes shot to Derek's, wide and surprised. In contrast, Aaron's face remained neutral, but a deep blush was growing on his cheeks, as well tinting his ears.

"Well, we'll leave you two to it." He left it at that, shrugging nonchalantly before gesturing Jack away.

"What... Jack?" You started, turning around. "I thought you needed..."

The two of them were gone before you could finish your sentence. However, you did view the tail end of Derek giving Jack a high five.

So, they had been in cahoots. You scoffed a laugh, shaking your head.

Now alone, your eyes connected with Aaron's, who was standing there rather anxiously. Naturally, there was a touch of tension in the air, but it wasn't awkward by any means. A mutual excitement, as well as relief. An electricity.

Aaron hadn't been anxious, but buzzing with anticipation.

You've been wanting to kiss him. He's been yearning to kiss you. The time had just never been right, nor had it the perfect moment. In addition, there was always the fear of rejection.

And suddenly you felt like an idiot for even contemplating such, because from the longing you noticed within his pupils, you've always been on the same page.

Aaron chucked, stating the obvious and peering back up at the mistletoe. "I think we were set up."

"You don't say." You quipped in response, a nervous laugh escaping you. Oh my god was repeatedly circling in your head. You shifted your weight from one foot to another. There was so much you wanted to say, having gone through the potential conversation in your mind more times than you could count. But now, as the opportunity finally presented itself - nothing.

Aaron on the other hand, simply decided to show you.

He wasted no time - his confidence was quite literally the hottest thing you could fathom. All in one smooth motion, his hand cupped your cheek and he placed his lips firmly onto yours.

A spark of energy rushed through you, the both of you in fact. Every nerve in your body was suddenly alive and heightened. Your fingers clutched onto the sides of his shirt, reciprocating the passion.

Aaron's kiss was gentle, his fingertips rough but incredibly soft where they rest against your skin. It made sense, it mirrored him perfectly. A hard exterior, but tender underneath.

And longing to be even closer, Aaron shoved you lightly against the wall, slotting a leg between your thighs. That way, he could lose himself more into you, and you could fully succumb to him.

Your head was fuzzy, feeling lightheaded in the best way possible as your heart fluttered in your chest. Now that Aaron had kissed you, you were done for. From now on, you refused to go each day without receiving another. You couldn't.

"We're missing presents." You teased once the two of you pulled away for air, cheeks flushed. And immediately missing his contact, your lips easily found their way back to his. You could feel his smile, a happy sigh leaving him.

"They can wait."

[caraphernellie]

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥.

CONTENT | ellie teaching u how to play pool. heavy sexual tension. heavy praise kink, usage of 'good girl' and other pet names. kinda voice kink? sub!reader, dom!ellie. fingering, oral (r!receiving all). strip teasing. not plot focused at all. fwb but with some feelings reader can't be assed to unpack. ellie is fucking dorky. eight-ball (reader's version).

AUTHOR'S NOTE | posted this little blurb on january first last year, so here we go! happy new years. loved that blurb so much i had to extend it, and make it smuttier. this is really just praise kink central. especially after seeing this random pic on pinterest. winners love winning! ellie pic by @/Quelbia94 on pinterest.

　　WC: 2.0K | ELLIE'S MASTERLIST | BOYCOTT TLOU

A peaceful winter night. Cold is the air, and warm are her hands pressed on your forearms. Moving you into place, your hip meeting the pool table.

The annual ski trip with friends has taken a private turn today, with you and Ellie left behind at the lodge all night. The rest of your group had been wanting to spend New Year's Eve at the bar, but you couldn't think of any worse way to spend the night. With them out of the way for a long few hours, Ellie found purpose in the time alone with you.

Teaching you how to play pool, of course! The table in this Air BnB has remained unused by your entourage in the many trips you've taken—it's left Ellie dying to show off her prowess. Joel taught her well.

She grabs a cue and positions herself behind you. The table isn't yet set up for a proper game, only a few balls ready for the basics to be taught. She briefly explained the rules, but certainly isn't sure you took it all in.

"Alright, you want the long explanation, or do you just want me to show you how to fuck shit up?" She asks, her grin evident in voice. You can't see her but somehow you can picture the look she's wearing; dimpled smirk, eyes laser focused on your side profile.

"Hm," you scoff, "well, obviously I need to know the basics first. Then you can start adding in all the crazy tricks after."

"'Kay, gimme your dominant hand," Ellie says, already reaching for your hand. "You wanna hold the stick with this hand, and rest the narrow end on your other hand."

You stand there and do absolutely nothing. She manoeuvres you like a puppet, guiding your hands into the correct position. The end of the cue touches your index finger, and is pointed straight ahead where the cue ball lies.

"This hand never moves." Ellie's fingers tap your non-dominant hand as she speaks, "you can use it to aim and that's it. Try."

"Uh-huh," you murmur, leaning down lower. You keep your eyes on the white ball and the blue one behind it. You drive the cue forward and it hits the ball softly, yet it doesn't move far.

"Bit more force," Ellie whispers, and her hand moves over yours already. She guides you through a few practise strokes before letting you line up another shot. "You just have to look at the location of the balls to figure out how weak your shot needs to be, you know?"

"Sorry not everyone's an expert at the lamest games imaginable," you mutter, but she takes your jest in stride only for the way you laughed.

It is true, to be fair—she is a ridiculous tryhard.

"S'okay, don't worry," Ellie says. Her voice is soft as silk right now, tone light and reassuring. "You're just practising. Still learning."

It is admittedly hard to focus on your aim when you can feel her softly breathing against your neck. Ellie being so close, it takes your mind back to the times in the past when she's breathed into your neck, her chest flush with your back.

Normal friends don't do that shit.

Normal friends don't think about each other this way. Friends can usually interact with each other without being reminded of the nights they've shared in bed together. This entire situation you're stuck in takes the wind out of your lungs, aches when you dwell on it too long, and yet like an addict, you can't bring yourself to put an end to it.

Albeit distractedly, you take a shot. It's firm, and sends a couple balls rolling.

"Good girl."

Right here is your reason to never walk away from Ellie.

Her voice.

Sweet talking woven into a low, raspy drawl. Praises and compliments that warm your stomach. Blood rushing everywhere—the heat filling not only your face, but your panties.

And it seems she hasn't got a clue. Shouldn't she have caught on by now? One would think she does it on purpose, but Ellie's far from calculated when it comes to flirting.

"This was much better." She's firm, now squeezing your waist as she murmurs close to your ear. "Few more practise shots, yeah?"

"Yeah," you repeat, focusing your mind—or attempting to do so—back towards the task at hand.

A few more practise shots manage to raise your confidence, and Ellie affirms each shot by patting your hip and whispering whatever encouragement she happens to find.

With your confidence growing, tension grows alongside it. Each praise throws out your balance a little, gives your heart a stutter, and flushes warmth and wetness into your panties. It's pathetic, you can't help but think. Can't even hang out with her anymore without this sort of thing happening.

Ellie is less than innocent here. She has paid far more attention than you thought, intention behind every word and every touch provided to you. She couldn't help herself.

"See, I think you might already be almost as good as me. Almost." Ellie chuckles, moving towards the table. She takes the triangle to set up a game, and flicks her gaze up. "You ready for a real game now? I'll go easy on you. Wouldn't wanna make you cry losing your first game."

"Oh, wow, I'm so intimidated," you retort, void of enthusiasm. Cocky girl, she is. But you won't let her stroke her ego tonight, you're desperate to have the upper hand. "I actually thought we could play a different version of the game. My version."

Ellie laughs. Laughs, because she hasn't got a clue what's coming for her. "So you're already trying to cheat?"

"No, this is my new game and you're gonna play with me. It's where we abandon every single rule... and every ball that you sink equals a layer of my outfit coming off. Doesn't that sound more fun?"

"What?"

"Do you need me to go over the rules again?" You ask. And Ellie is seconds away from trying to kiss that wry grin off your face.

"You are a pain in my ass." And yet, she snatches the cue from you. "So, what happens if I sink the eight ball right away? Lap dance?"

"Yeah, that's not happening," you mutter. "Just play the game."

Ellie laughs softly, shaking her head. "Alright, jesus. Pushy."

From beneath her full lashes, adventurous thyme greens glare up at you. They track your movement, watching you take a seat on the bar stool beside the table. Her eyes return to the white ball, beginning to line up the first shot.

And once it's taken, she stands, and looks up at you expectedly.

"What?" You ask. "Don't— be serious, there's no fucking way you sunk one already."

"Heighten your expectations, babe," Ellie chimes, "now, am I allowed to pick what comes off first?"

"N— seriously? I hate you so much."

"Just take your top off already, please."

Well, this game may end up shorter than you'd anticipated. She's made of excellent aim.

Deliberately void of haste, you pull your top up and over your head. Ellie stifles a snort, her mind likening it to unwrapping a present. You're left in a black bra and jeans, eyes rolling before landing back on Ellie.

The girl scoffs, shaking her head before surveying the pool table and planning another move. Perhaps this will backfire on you after all, because Ellie targets the balls nearest to the pockets. She's getting this over and done with in a pinch.

Soon you're in just your underwear, the next garment to come off being your bra, and you're watching her carefully. A blue ball sinks and you tut, voice growing whiny.

"This isn't fair, you're rushing this. I pass this round."

"You think you get to pass? That wasn't one of the rules you declared when we started this game of yours," Ellie reminds, approaching you with narrowed eyes. "I'm playing fair according to your rules."

You groan and tip your head back with utmost annoyance until a warm hand cups your cheek and directs you back to her—and her free hand is fumbling with the clip of your bra.

"You've got to take the shit off."

She finally manages to undo it and the lacy lingerie slips down your shoulders, bestowing upon her the sight of your chest. Cool air slips in through the open window, and not even the lodge's heater can help you. Goosebumps rise and your nipples grow firm at the chill.

"That's better," Ellie whispers, thumb rubbing over your cheekbone gently. "One more shot."

Pushing past how exposed you suddenly are, you watch Ellie line up another shot. You're hardly able to pay attention with the growing heat between your thighs, yet she's aiming straight for the eight ball this time. It's loaded with cockiness, and overridden by dorky commentation.

"She shoots..." Ellie knocks a green ball with her cue. It hits the eight ball and it rolls agonisingly slowly across the table, finally falling into the pocket. "Aaaaand she scores."

"You're so immature," you mutter, standing up finally. Ellie's unbothered as always, an arm swiftly moving around your waist as she places her cue down.

"Better get those panties off," she says, tone making it sound like a suggestion, though it's certainly a demand. "I won fair and square! Let me have my prize."

Your fingers hook into the sides of your panties, sliding them down your legs before stepping out of them. Baring yourself for your friend, it's such a strange feeling. It can be conflicting, but turns euphoric as soon as her eyes drag over your form.

"Good girl," Ellie murmurs. "Ain't you pretty like that? C'mere."

Kisses peppered along your jaw lead to your lips, your body resting against the side of the table. You're bordering on sitting on it, Ellie's hands moving with a mind of their own to spread your thighs.

A messy exchange of spit and clashing teeth is interrupted with you throwing your head back. She's pretty much lathering her fingers with the glistening essence of your pussy, stroking them up and down.

"So wet," Ellie whispers, softly laughing against the nape of your neck. She presses a kiss to the waiting skin there, fingers finding their way to your hole. She slips them in slowly, listening to the strained moan it elicits.

She almost wants to moan herself at the way you clench on her fingers, the feeling warm, wet, and tight. She curls her fingers, thumb brushing over your clit and she has to chuckle at your keen and whimper. "That good, huh?"

"Fuck," your tender whisper is swallowed by her lips, kissing, biting, licking into your mouth. Your trembling knees threaten to give out but Ellie hooks your leg over her hip, pushing you against the table even firmer.

"I got you," she mumbles, attention focused between your legs where a white ring is forming around her knuckles. "God, you're a work of art like this. Take it so well, don'tcha?"

"Mhm." Your desperate coos don't go unnoticed, the pretty sounds of you getting closer and closer to the edge spurring her on.

"Hold on, okay?" Ellie smiles, and that gorgeous grin would seem so innocent in any other circumstance, but she moves to her knees, flushed face staring up at you. She keeps your leg over her shoulder and hums appreciatively as your hand threads into her hair—she will be the death of you.

Her fingers continue plowing into you, erotic squelching sounds forming as she moves her hand, and your legs buckle once her tongue slides over your clit.

"Hhn, Els, shit. I'm close," you whine, hand tangling into her hair while the other squeezes and squishes your tits unconsciously. "Please, please, just like that."

Ellie holds that eye contact, not wavering for even a second. Her tongue laves over your clit, she sucks the engorged bud between her lips and your entire body jolts, a pitchy moan eliciting from your lips as an orgasm hits you.

And she slurps up every drop, from your clit to the juices leaking down her wrist.

"Atta fuckin' girl."

Ellie rises to her feet with a hand neatening up her tousled hair, licking her lips clean as she glances at the clock.

"And happy new year."

[jayparked]

33 & jake pls 😩

jake’s hands really have their own fandom 🫠

warnings: jake hand kink jake hand kink jake hand kink, fingering, dirty talk

your mouth opens and closes, words failing to get past the bottom of your throat whenever you try to speak.

"oh c'mon, pretty. i know you can do it. just tell me what you want and it's yours." jake chuckles, his fingers trailing up and down your naked skin from your legs up to your shoulders and it's driving you crazy.

he thinks it's that simple but it couldn't be further than the truth. it doesn't help that his digits are on the colder side so every trace of you he touches he leaves behind a trail of goosebumps. your breath hitches in your throat when his pointer finger moves along the front of your esophagus. he's toying with you. and he's getting off by doing so.

"just tell me what you want," he whispers, a mischievous glint in his eyes with a smirk that's to die for.

"iwantyourfingersinme." you say all too fast, but not fast enough that he doesn't hear it or can't put two and two together.

but jake isn't gonna let you off that easily.

"huh? what's that? one more time but look me in the eyes and annunciate your words."

god he just loves being a smart ass in bed.

"i want your fingers in me."

"that's my good girl, wasn't so hard now, was it?" jake gives you a quick peck on your lips before plunging his veiny fingers deep in your cunt, wasting no time scissoring the digits inside you to give you that oh so needed stretch.

"mmm, yeah, fuck, jake how do- how do you do that?" you gasp out, clutching onto him to get some sort of stable ground. his pace is fast and consistent, only faltering to change his hand position. now, instead of scissoring, he has his hand out almost as if he was about to shake someone's hand. instead, he has his ring and middle finger deep inside you, moving his arm in small circles so his pointer finger can glide against your clit. all you can do is hopelessly clench on the two digits, relishing in the the way he curls them inside you ever so slightly, just enough to leave you on the edge of your seat.

"my baby should tell me what she wants more often. i'd do anything you ask me to do," he murmurs with a smile between open mouth kisses to your neck, flattening his tongue on the spot behind your ear that he knows makes your entire body tingle.

suddenly, jake's lustful eyes brighten for just a moment before darkening again. his free hand comes into your view as the other continues to coax your release out of you.

"like my fingers so much? then open." his pointer and middle finger prod at your lips until you comply. he presses his fingertips down on your tongue, impatiently telling you to react. you moan on his digits, hollowing your cheeks as your eyes roll back. swirling your tongue and feeling his veins in your mouth has you so ravenous you're almost scared you'll fully lose your mind.

with jake's fingers deep down your throat and deeper inside your cunt you come faster than you ever have before, begging him to do it again only moments after.

for part of my 1k follower celebration send me a member and a number from this list and i'll write a short drabble about it ♡ masterlist

[tsuutarr]

With a dazzling burst of light, your summoning circle flickers as a figure begins to materialize with a golden glow. Soon, bright violet eyes meet yours.

“Are you my new witch?” the voice gasps, eyes sunny and smile toothy.

You give him an affirmative, which makes the light spirit seem to glow even brighter.

“Oh! I’m so excited!” he beams, bursting with sunlight and energy. He grabs your hands in his, warming up your skin. “I’ll be the best familiar ever, promise!”

And he is a rather good familiar, doing everything you instruct without much protest or error. His upbeat attitude is really pleasant to be around, too.

The only catch is that he changes at night. When the sun goes down, basking him with moonlight instead of sunlight, his skin turns from gold and sunkissed to silver and moonkissed. 

“Did he not tell you?” your new moonkissed familiar asks, referring to his sunny counterpart. “What a loser...” He eyes you up and down, before letting out a small huff. “I guess you’ll do fine.”

Your moonkissed familiar is… more terse and sharp edged, his lips in a perpetual scowl. However, it’s evident that he doesn’t really mind being yours – not with how he follows you around, helping you with the little things. And when you curl up at night to go to bed, he’s a comfortable pillow that lets you cuddle him close.

“It’s not fair,” your sunkissed companion complains when you awake with the sun. “He gets to cuddle you? I wanna hold you too!”

It’s really not your fault, but your sunkissed companion is too much like a puppy to take too seriously. So, instead, you allow him to hug you more, his hands clinging to you whenever they can.

“You’re just lettin’ him touch you whenever?” your moonkissed companion asks when the moon is in its zenith. You give a curious look, which makes him scowl, his gaze flickering away. “I’m just sayin’ okay? It’s not ‘cause I’m jealous or something.”

Oh, so he’s jealous. Now that you think about it, you’re pretty sure your sunkissed companion was jealous, too.

You’re really not sure what to make of this revelation, though. The last thing you expected was to be stuck in a love triangle between your… familiar? Familiars? They’re technically the same familiar, but they’re also not, which is kind of complicated.

Well… it’s nothing to worry about, probably.

But oh, how wrong you are. As the days pass, that much is obvious.

“You like me better, right?” your sunkissed familiar asks, suffocating you with his warmth. He’s gotten clingier and clingier, smothering you with his presence.

“There’s no way you like that dolt better,” your moonkissed familiar states, constantly hovering over you with his chill. You don’t know if he’s aware of it or not, but you’ve been getting less and less sleep with him around.

Nowadays, they’re just… always around you. Day and night. There’s no escape, no room to breathe. They’re always there somehow, always watching.

It’s driving you crazy. Maybe it is something to worry about. Maybe it’s for the best if you cancel the familiar contract.

“What?” your sunkissed familiar asks, eyes wide. “Oh, no, no. Darling witch, why would you say that?”

As you feel him burn hotter, you quickly realize that bringing up the idea to him was a mistake.

After all, light spirits are notoriously powerful and you’re just a newbie witch. There’s no way you can control him unless he offers that control to you – you should’ve realized that.

And, well, from the look in his eyes, it looks like he’s done letting you take charge.

“You’re our witch, darling. For as long as the light shines.”

[hoshifighting]

Is he out of his mind or smth 😃😃?? I desperately need u to do something about these pics cause I'm going insane 🥰

ohhh voyeurism + blowjob addiction with soonyoung.

a/n: this man is going to fucking make me go crazyyyyy.

WARNINGS: voyeurism, blowjob, 'sex tape', public sex, him recording his face instead of you sucking him + you saving the video for yourself so you can watch alone later.

you never thought you’d be the kind of person to get off on the thrill of almost getting caught, but with soonyoung, it’s like you can’t help yourself. maybe it’s the way he looks at you when you’re out in public, eyes dark with want, that little smirk playing on his lips like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. or maybe it’s the way he whispers in your ear, voice low and teasing, “baby, how about right here?” and suddenly, you’re down on your knees in the most unexpected places.

you’ve blown him in some crazy spots—on a boat, the gentle rocking of the waves barely enough to mask the sound of your gagging; on a balcony, the open air making it all feel so much more daring; even in the bathroom of some fancy party, your dress hitched up, knees on cold tile, just minutes before you were expected back in the crowd, looking prim and proper like you hadn’t just had soonyoung’s cock down your throat.

“you’re so fucking good at this,” he groans, fingers tangled in your hair as you bob your head, taking him deeper. his voice is wrecked, and it sends a shiver down your spine. you know he loves it when you go all out, sucking him like it’s the only thing you’ve ever wanted to do, and honestly, with how he’s moaning your name, it feels like that might be true.

but it’s not just the thrill of doing it anywhere, anytime. it’s the way soonyoung loves to keep little mementos of your escapades. he’s got videos saved on a secret drive, clips of you on your knees, eyes watering as you take him all the way down, or that one time on the balcony where you had to cover your mouth with your hand because you were getting too loud. you don’t mind though—you like knowing that when he’s alone, he’s probably watching those videos, getting off to the sight of you looking up at him with that needy look in your eyes.

today it was just supposed to be a quick, dirty escape—soonyoung had suggested the gym because it was empty, and it was a place you could indulge your cravings without getting caught. the big mirror in front of you was the perfect backdrop, catching every little detail of your performance.

you’d barely had time to get him fully hard before you were on your knees, the sound of his low groans and your own soft gagging filling the room. you loved the way he watched you, his eyes dark and hungry, but tonight, he was more focused on his phone. he was filming. he was so lost in the moment that he didn’t even realize the camera had shifted angles. he was too busy watching himself in the mirror, getting off on how his own face contorted with pleasure. the video later was almost comical—his face blissed out, mouth open, eyes shut tight, and in the background, the soft sound of your gagging and his heavy breathing. there you were, but it was his face that was the real star of the show.

when you showed him the video later, you couldn’t help but laugh. “so this is what you’ve been watching?” you teased.

he grinned sheepishly, his cheeks flushing a little.

you smirked, leaning in close. “well, now this video is for me,” you whispered, pressing a finger against the screen where his face was still contorted in pleasure. “i can already imagine how hot it’s gonna be to watch this and touch myself. seeing you like that, it’s gonna drive me insane when you travel.”

his eyes widened, and he bit his lip, clearly turned on by the thought. “fuck, I didn’t realize you’d like it so much....”

[farshootergotme]

I get emotional thinking about how his family would react to Bruce's change if he ever started working on himself, on improving his behavior. But the one I think about the most is Dick Grayson.

Alfred is the one who was there from the very beginning, but Dick Grayson is who arrived and made the biggest impact. He's the first kid who Bruce took in, the one who approached this man and became his first partner to fight by his side out in the night.

Dick was able to pull Bruce out of the darkness that consumed him. No matter how many times Bruce went back, Dick's presence was a constant reminder that there's not only shadows. That if Bruce pushes back, fights so he won't be dragged down, he will find light.

However, it was a cycle. Dick would get him out, but Bruce would go back, sooner or later. And repeat. And Dick realized this and knew he couldn't let that be his whole life. But despite the distance, it still affects Dick knowing he can't find a definite solution for Bruce.

So, seeing Bruce actually change, get better and seeing that last...it would lift the heaviest weight on Dick's shoulders, who's felt responsible for Bruce's emotions since the day he became Robin.

It's been implied to him that Bruce needs him, that he's who keeps him from falling. And Dick, despite not always feeling like he is enough, carries with that responsibility because, deep down, he also feels like he owes it to Bruce, who Dick has needed (still needs) present in his life, too.

Bruce getting better would be like being able to breath again, but it would be so suffocating too.

Dick would happy for Bruce, for the man who raised him. He'd be relieved that the hurt will stop, for both his father and those he's continuously pushed away. But then he'll be anxious, will it really last? How long until he can be sure? And he'll be scared, does he still need him, now? Does a Batman who's gotten help still need Dick Grayson Robin? Nightwing? And lurking in the back of his mind, there'd be anger. Why now? Why after all those years? Why not before? Was Dick not enough reason to change? Was he never worth this? And shame will drown those thoughts. It's selfish, to think that way. He should be happy. He wants to be happy. He is happy. But he is also mad. He's sad and he mourns the child who never saw this side of Bruce. And most of all, he loves. He loves Bruce too much to hate him for it. No matter how angry, no matter how hurt, he loves his father and he's grateful for him, for his efforts. And all he can do is smile and congratulate him because that's everything he feels he has the right to say.

And when all is said and done, Bruce will come to him and Dick will have to face the worst part of this change;

Apologies.

If Bruce has truly changed, then he would know there's more things than he can count with his fingers that he has to apologize to his son for. And out of everything else, this is what Dick Grayson fears the most.

Dick can take it, he can hear Bruce out, but he can't unpack all the pain he's been accumulating in front of his dad. He can't bring himself to say 'I forgive you' out loud despite having convinced himself long ago that it's alright.

Bruce doesn't didn't do apologies. Things happened and then went back to normal and Dick was okay with that. He forgave him, he did. So, Bruce doesn't need to apologize, he doesn't have to make him say it out loud. He can't tell him, but he's forgiven him long ago. Even if it hurt, even if he was still resentful sometimes, even if he wanted to yell at him for it, Dick could push it all down and forgive him. Bruce shouldn't apologize, shouldn't bring it up again because Dick isn't strong enough to keep it all bottled up if Bruce starts acknowledging it, if he confirms that Dick wasn't crazy for feeling wronged and hurt.

He can take it, but he really can't.

Just thinking about it drives me crazy because, out of everyone, Dick Grayson might be the kid who's been waiting for this the longest, and who thought he'd already given up the idea of his father finding a lasting happiness that would bring permanent change in him. And it would be just so overwhelming.

[reveluving]

SHY WIFE AND PRICE....ARE YOU FREAKIN KIDDING ME!!!!!Imagine this Adonis of a man spoiling her from the first date and even her being shy, the 141(plus Kate) KNOW who's the boss( he ALWAYS have a photo and a story about Mrs.Price and it's just the cutest thing how his eyes light up that they also love her)

CUUUUUUTE AAAAAA!! GNAWING ON MY BARS RN!! And thank you for specifying the Adonis of a man bit! Can't forget about that!! ☝🏼😌💗

Includes: tooth-rotting fluff!

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

In any case of our beloved shy!wife fics, especially with his line of work, just expect your husband to have a polaroid or five of you ready.

And John is no different.

You must be a special one if you managed to catch the eyes of the captain, and to clarify, you are!

John knew there was no going back to his mundane yet chaotic lifestyle the second he asked you out. It took everything in him not to chuckle at your look of disbelief, your lips parting just a tad bit. He didn’t want you to think he was making fun of you, you were genuinely adorable with your expressiveness. And though had told him you were open to anything, even specifying that you wouldn’t mind anything small and simple, he didn’t let you.

He took you out to dinner on your first date, nothing too fancy, though that couldn’t be said the same on the later dates, gifted you a small but beautiful bouquet and the rest was history. 

And amazingly, he gets even better at spoiling you after he puts a ring on your finger. As if he wasn't already good since your first date!

Kisses or cakes, hugs or huge bouquets, he'll always find a way to spoil you. Because you—your smiles, giggles and laughs, your time and your love for him means so much.

More than you can imagine.

A sweetheart, a gentleman. You couldn’t ask for a better man to fall for you, though, like him, you were mind-blown to even think a man, no, a hunk like him showed interest in you. Made you feel wanted, special—someone he wanted to be with with zero hesitation. 

He wouldn’t be able to forget your shy smile, how you’d mindlessly trail your fingers across the table or your lap out of embarrassment, how your fingers curled around his hand, despite averting your gaze from his cheeky smile many dates later.

And though the wedding was small, to him, it felt like a sweet fairytale.

To finally be able to call you Mrs Price.

Laswell had the privilege to meet you first before everyone else. She enjoys the sisterly moments you’d have, a breath of fresh air from the craziness, to say the least, that she has to witness in her lifetime. Always appreciates you checking in on her via messages or if she’s lucky, a quick call. And it becomes a tradition of hers to jokingly remind John to take care of you and not to drive you crazy.

And then, there were the boys.

Johnny was the one who asked about you, catching the man looking at one of the polaroids of you with nothing but love in his eyes. Longing to get it over with and come home to you. Johnny didn’t think he’d be willing to talk about you at all, let alone more than a few sentences, i.e. privacy reasons or he just prefers to be on his own. Take in the quiet moment before any hell breaks loose later on.

Understandable, so imagine not only his surprise but also the rest of the 141 when he talks about you. First, with pure endearment in his tone, then the story gets romantic, cheesier even, but all three of them listened to his stories like no other (read: a father telling his kids how he met their mother), even if they acted like they were just casually fixing their weapons or thinking to themselves.

C’mon, he knows them!

Like John, you treat the boys like your very own. If Johnny, Kyle or Simon wanted to be doted over—to be cared for, something they haven’t felt in a while even if some of them wouldn’t want to admit it, then you’d give them millions! Even something as little as a handwritten message or passing them a few words i.e. take care and good luck via John.

Visiting the Price’s house now feels like a family thing. Again, it’s cheesy, it’s corny, and maybe even childish to some, for a bunch of men to be looking forward to these visits like a child being away from their parents at a dorm during college, none of you cared. Not you. Not John. And most importantly, not his boys.

None of them could have imagined your words to stick in their minds in dire times. A little motivation to return safely. Back to the base, for John, and back the Price’s home, for you.

“Johnny, I’m out of a few things in the kitchen. Could you drop by the store and get these for me, please?” “Can do!”

“Simon, have you seen John’s car keys? I can’t find them anywhere.” “I can help look for it w’you.”

“Kyle, I told you I can handle the fireplace.” “S’not that hard. Don’t worry!”

Home.

Bonus: A lil’ story I’m still working on with the COD men + dogs includes John with an American Akita. Similar to Phillip and Kai, John’s gigantic pupper tends to prefer listening to you to him.

His intolerance for certain people or animals drops in an instant the second he sees you, turning into a baby (your baby, might John add) but he also knows when duty calls. Ears tilting back and growling at a stranger who doesn’t know, or worse; ignores that you're taken.

And in John’s words: good boy.

˚ · . f i n . · ��

[levisjinchuriki]

truly, madly, deeply - toji fushiguro

part 1

summary: toji didn't realize what he lost until he did

warning: angst, crying, toji pleading his case, yelling, mentions of toxic relationship

toji rests until late morning. you don’t disturb him, knowing he needs the sleep after the storm he weathered last night. while he’s out, you sneak into the room to set a glass of water and painkillers on the nightstand for his inevitable migraine. it's not much, but it’s something. 

you linger in the doorway for a moment after, watching him. in his sleep, toji looks so different. the sharp edges of his features are softer now. the furrow in his brow from last night is gone, replaced by a peace that’s rare. it pains you to watch him this way, knowing that the man lying before you carries so much anguish.

when he finally wakes, you hear the creak of the mattress and quiet shuffle of his feet before he appears in the living room, drawn by the smell of you making breakfast. he lingers in the doorway at first, then steps further into the kitchen, his footsteps slow and tentative.

you don’t say anything, keeping your focus on plating the food. you know he’s watching you, debating what to say—or if he should say anything at all.

you plate the meals, just like you always used to, and set his on the counter. still, you don’t make eye contact. it’s not intentional, just the natural result of a mind weighed down with too many thoughts. but toji’s eyes are on you, steady and unrelenting, following your every movement.

should he thank you for last night? apologize for the mess he dragged into your home? ask how you slept, even though he knows the answer? none of it feels right, and the words remain lodged in his throat.

instead, what comes out is something entirely different.

“can you stop?”. his tone is sharp but not angry—tired, maybe. it’s enough to make you pause, your hands hovering over the dish towel on the counter. slowly, you look up, meeting his gaze for the first time.

“stop what?” you ask puzzled. you’re not trying to frustrate him. you’re not entirely sure what you’re doing.

"acting like everything is normal. it's driving me crazy" toji says, his tone edged with frustration. it’s not really what he wants to say. he’s never been good at expressing himself, not in the way you need him to be.

you notice the turmoil flickering behind his eyes. his words only skim the surface of what’s really going on beneath. there’s so much pain there, unspoken and unresolved, that even he doesn’t seem to know what to do with it.

"i don’t like seeing you like this" you admit softly. it’s an honest confession, one you’ve been holding back for longer than you care to admit. your words catch him off guard, and he visibly flinches, his tough exterior momentarily cracking. for a second, he looks like he’s about to say something vulnerable, but just as quickly, he recovers, masking his emotions with sharp words.

"yeah, well, whose fault is that?" he bites out, his tone harsher than he intends. the second the words leave his mouth, regret flashes across his face. 

he knows it’s his fault. it’s always been his fault. every hardship, every heartbreak, every sleepless night you endured in this relationship has been caused by his actions, his choices. and yet, he still lashes out, deflecting because it’s easier than facing his guilt head-on.

you draw in a breath, steadying yourself against the sting of his words. "that’s not fair" you say quietly. it’s not. he knows it’s not.

toji’s gaze drops to the floor, his jaw tightening as the truth of your words settles over him. the blame shouldn’t be on you for leaving him. if anything, he’s lucky you stayed as long as you did, long past the point when most people would have walked away.

in hindsight, he doesn’t even know why you didn’t leave sooner. you deserve so much more than he ever gave you. 

"how many times has this happened before last night?" you ask carefully, afraid of pushing him too far.

toji’s shoulders sag under the weight of your question. embarrassment flickers across his face, and you can see the truth in the way his jaw tightens. he’s lost count. he doesn’t want to say it, but you already know. his bad habits weren’t new, and they’ve worsened since the separation.

"why does it matter?" he mutters, his tone defensive but laced with shame.

you hesitate, your heart heavy with the truth you’ve been keeping to yourself. it feels too big to say, too tangled with all the unresolved emotions swirling between you. but he’s looking at you now, his eyes searching yours, and you know he deserves an answer.

"because i care about you" you say.

for a moment, his expression softens, the harsh lines of his face easing as your words sink in. he doesn’t say anything, but you can see the conflict playing out in his eyes. 

just because you’re not together anymore doesn’t mean you’ve stopped caring. it doesn’t mean you’ve stopped worrying about him. it doesn’t mean you want to see him drink himself into an early grave. and it doesn’t mean you’ve stopped loving him. that part, you don’t say, but it lingers in the air between you, unspoken but undeniably there.

you half-expect him to make a flippant comment, a typical toji move to deflect from his feelings. but instead, his jaw tightens, and he shakes his head. there’s a twitch in his nose—a tell you’ve come to recognize, the small sign that he’s fighting back emotions he doesn’t want to show.

“don’t do that” he warns. you can hear the strain in his voice, like he's on the edge of something he doesn’t know how to handle. he’s so far from the image of the hard, untouchable man he’s always pretended to be. instead, he looks fragile—struggling, hurting, desperately trying to hold himself together while everything inside him feels like it’s breaking.

toji sniffles, his hand coming up to rub over his face, as if he can scrub away the emotion threatening to surface. the sight of it tugs at your heart in ways you can’t control.

“why did you call me last night?” you ask quietly, your voice careful. 

he looks at you then, and for a second, your resolve nearly crumbles. his gaze is so broken, so full of regret. the deep sigh he lets out seems to drain what little fight he has left.

“because no matter how hard i try, i can’t get you out of my damn head” he says.

your heart hammers in your chest. you open your mouth to respond, but the words catch in your throat. 

“i know i don’t have the right to call you anymore” he continues bitterly—mostly at himself, at the situation, at everything. “but i just—i needed to hear your voice”.

there it is. the truth hurts to hear. despite everything that’s happened, despite the space and pain between you, he still turned to you. when he had no one else, when he was at his lowest, it was you he called. that has to mean something—doesn’t it?

you blink, your chest tightening as you watch him struggle to keep his composure. toji— tough, unshakable toji—looks like he’s barely holding it together.

“i don’t know how to stop” he admits after another long moment of silence, his voice breaking just enough to make you flinch. “thinking about you. missing you”. his hands hang at his sides, fists clenching and unclenching as if he’s fighting some invisible force. “i screwed it all up. i know that. but you—”. he looks at you then, his gaze so intense it feels like it might break you. “you’re still the only thing that makes sense to me. even now”. 

his words sting, but you can see the pain in his eyes—the regret that’s etched so deeply into his features as if it’s become a part of him. he doesn’t move closer, doesn’t reach for you, even though you can tell he wants to.

you’re not even sure what you want to say. that he’s wrong? that he’s right? that you’ve been struggling too?

your heart twists painfully at his words. you want to be angry. you want to tell him that he doesn’t get to just show up like this, throwing his pain at your feet. but you can’t. because deep down, you know that anger isn’t what you feel.

“do you think that makes it any easier for me?” you ask, your voice trembling. “watching you like this? knowing you’re hurting?”. your eyes fill with tears as you stare into his. 

“we ended things for a reason. for a lot of reasons.” your voice wavers as a thousand emotions swirl inside you. his eyes squeeze shut, and he nods, like he’s bracing himself for the final blow. but when he looks at you again, there’s a desperation there you’ve never seen before.

“i know” he says hoarsely. “and you were right to leave. i know i screwed everything up. i know i don’t deserve this—don’t deserve you—but…” he trails off, his voice cracking. “i’ve never felt like this before. not with anyone else. not even close. and i can’t… i don’t want anyone else”.

you want to believe him. you want to believe that he’s changed, that this time will be different, that he won’t let you down again. but you’ve heard promises before. 

“i can’t trust you” you say, the words trembling as they leave your lips, tears slipping freely down your cheeks. even though you’re the one who left, it feels like you’re breaking up all over again, reopening wounds you thought had begun to heal.

“i know i don’t deserve another chance. but i mean it this time. i swear i do”. his voice cracks, and it’s enough to make your chest ache. 

his words sound genuine, the emotion in his voice undeniable, but how can you trust that? he’s hurt you before, made promises before. still, the way he looks at you now—like you’re the only thing holding him together—makes you hesitate.

“i still love you” he adds, the confession spilling out like it’s been tearing him apart. his gaze locks onto yours, desperate and searching for something—anything—that might give him hope.

you look away, wiping at your tears with trembling fingers. you're torn, trapped between the part of you that aches to believe him—the part that longs for the warmth of the love you once shared—and the part that knows better, the one that remembers the cold, sharp edges of his neglect.

you think of the moments of love and laughter—his low chuckle in your ear, the way he’d pull you into his chest and kiss the top of your head, the rare but precious mornings where the world seemed to stop, just the two of you tangled together in the quiet.

but those memories are eclipsed by others, darker and heavier. broken promises whispered in the aftermath of fights that left you raw, the sting of his absence when you needed him most, the hollow ache of lying awake in bed while he chased after his own demons, leaving you to face yours alone.

it hurts too much.

“i think you should go” you tremble.

toji freezes. for a moment, he looks like he might argue, his mouth opening slightly as if the words are on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill out and plead his case. but they never come. instead, his shoulders sag, the fight draining out of him as your words sink in.

he runs a hand through his hair, his fingers trembling as they rake over the strands. his eyes—those same eyes that once held so much confidence, so much fire—are now clouded with regret.

“okay” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper, as if saying it any louder might shatter what little composure he has left. 

he doesn’t move right away. instead, he lingers, his gaze locked on you, searching your face as if trying to memorize every detail, to hold onto this moment even as it slips through his fingers. there’s a quiet desperation in his eyes, a silent plea for you to take it back, to tell him to stay.

but you don’t.

you stand there, frozen, watching as he takes a shaky breath and finally turns toward the door. his movements are slow, reluctant, like every step is an admission of defeat.

when he reaches the door, he hesitates, his hand resting on the handle. for a second, you think he might say something, one last attempt to change your mind. but he doesn’t. he opens the door, stepping out without looking back.

and just like that, he’s gone.

you press your hand to your chest, the ache there unbearable, and you sink onto the couch, tears streaming freely now.

your mind races, his words replaying over and over. i mean it this time. i still love you. i’m sorry. what if he really does mean it? what if he’s changed? what if this time, things could be different?

but then the other voice—the one that remembers the hurt, the loneliness, the promises that were always broken—creeps in. what if he hasn’t? what if it’s the same cycle all over again?

the tears keep coming, and you let them. the ache in your chest feels unbearable, a mix of anger, love, and regret twisting into something you can’t untangle.

you want to believe him. god, you want to believe him. but trust is fragile, and yours has been shattered too many times.

you picture toji on the other side of that door, his shoulders slumped, his face etched with the pain of rejection. you know what he’s feeling because you feel it too—a deep, gnawing emptiness that no amount of reasoning can fill. 

but you also know the truth.

this is the path you chose because it’s the one that hurts less in the long run. toji has to accept that he’s lost the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and you have to accept that some things, no matter how much you want them to, can’t be fixed.

memories of the life you once shared flash through your mind—the laughter that came so easily in the beginning, the quiet nights when words weren’t needed, just the steady rhythm of his breathing as he held you close. 

but then comes the other memories… the arguments that seemed to come out of nowhere, his voice raised, yours breaking. the promises that felt like lifelines at the time but were discarded so casually. the nights you spent staring at the ceiling, the bed cold and empty, wondering why you weren’t enough.

it’s not fair.

you were never the problem.

you clench your fists, your nails digging into your palms as you fight back the surge of anger and grief that threatens to overwhelm you. how many times did you tell yourself that love would be enough? that if you just tried harder, gave more of yourself, things would change? how many times did you accept his apologies, his promises to do better, only to be left in the same cycle of disappointment?

still, the tiny flicker of hope refuses to die. it lingers, stubborn and persistent, whispering what if in the back of your mind. what if this time is different? what if he really means it? what if the love you both still feel is enough to mend what’s been broken?

you hate that hope.

it feels like a betrayal of all the pain you’ve endured, a cruel trick your heart plays to keep you tethered to someone you know isn’t good for you. and yet, you can’t bring yourself to let it go completely.

the weight of your decision feels suffocating, but you remind yourself that trust is a fragile thing. once broken, it’s nearly impossible to piece back together. 

toji has to learn to live with what he’s lost. he has to understand that love isn’t enough without trust, without effort, without change.

your tears have stopped, but the ache in your chest remains, a dull and constant reminder of what you’ve let go.

you hope toji will find a way to heal, to become the man he claims he wants to be. but more than that, you hope you can find the strength to move forward, to leave the pieces of your shattered trust behind and rebuild yourself into someone whole again.

because no matter how much you still love him, you can’t keep breaking your own heart in the hope that one day, he’ll stop breaking it for you.

---

taglist: @lavenderdaydream97 @smaranshakthi

thank you for reading my mini series!! i haven't made an angst fic in a long time and as much as i wanted to have them be together in the end, it felt forced. don't be mad! <3

[voxslays]

The night I lost you

Feauturing >>> Alastor x Reader; In which you find out your husband is a serial killer, but before you can act, it’s already too late.

Warnings: Gore, Murder, Alastor being a serial killer, Your throat being slit, Death!

A/N: Surprisingly no smut in this one! I steered more towards goretober, so yay…? I might write a part two. Who knows?

Part Two

You sat in bed, curled up while reading a classic of American Literature; Little Women. You were waiting for your husband, Alastor to get home since he was coming home late tonight. Soon enough you heard the creak, signaling the front door had been opened and a few moments later, you see Alastor walk into your shared bedroom. He didn't speak. Just walked in and got dressed, brushed his teeth, and ready for bed. He looked tired and stressed. When he lied down, his back was turned away from you. No words spoken. You tried to tap his shoulder to see if he was okay, but he just nudged it away with his shoulder. A heavy and tired sigh was heard from him. "Not now dear."  He finally spoke in a tired and slightly agitated tone.

You rolled over, hugging one of your pillows as you drifted off into sleep. After a long, tense moment, Alastor's body relaxed slightly. He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder, his usually vibrant eyes dimmed with exhaustion. You unconsciously move away from him. Alastor watches as you move away from him, curling up on the other side of the bed. He hesitates, then reaches out to touch your shoulder gently. He leaves his hand on your shoulder for a moment, his fingers softly tracing small circles on your skin. Then, with a sigh, he removes his hand and turns back around, facing the wall once more.

An hour passes in silence, the only sound being the soft rhythm of your breathing and occasional snore, and Alastor's sporadic sighs. Finally, he seems to reach a breaking point, his exhaustion and stress overwhelming him. ​​He sits up abruptly, running a hand through his hair as he mutters under his breath. He gets out of bed and begins pacing around the room, his movements jerky and agitated. You are woken from your slumber by his heavy footsteps. You slowly sit up and look at him, “What are you doing…?” You ask in a half-asleep, groggy voice. 

Alastor stops pacing and turns to face you, his eyes wild and frustrated. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. He just stands there, staring at you with a mixture of anger and desperation. "I can't... I can't do this anymore." Alastor’s breaths grow heavier. “What do you mean?” You ask anxiously. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He sits down heavily on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. "This, us, this life. I don't know how much longer I can keep pretending everything is okay." His voice is low and strained, with dark undertones you don't dare to question. “Wait, is something wrong between us!?” You ask, starting to panic. 

Alastor looks up, his expression unreadable. He hesitates before speaking. "No, no, it's not you. It's…” He pauses, “everything else. The pressure, the secrets, the constant lies. It's all just become too much. I feel like I'm drowning, and I can't breathe." His breath hitches. “What secrets?” You ask suspiciously, blissfully unaware of the supposed ‘secrets’ he had been hiding. Alastor sighs heavily, rubbing his temples. "There are so many secrets, so many things I'm not telling you. Things I can't tell you. It's tearing me apart. I feel like I'm living a double life, and it's driving me crazy." As soon as he confesses, your mind can only think of one thing; He must be cheating. “Are you cheating on me?” You ask quietly. 

Alastor’s head snaps up, his eyes wide with shock and horror at your accusation. "No! God no, I would never. I could never." He reaches out to grab your hands, holding them tightly. "You have to believe me, I'm not cheating on you." He says, reassuring you. Alastor hesitates for a short few moments, torn between the desire to unburden himself and the need to protect you. He bites his lip, deliberating before speaking. "Promise me you won't tell anyone. Promise me you'll keep this a secret, no matter what." His eyes search yours, pleading.

“I promise.” Your voice filled with hope. If Alastor wasn't cheating, what else could he have done? Nothing too bad. He was a sweetheart. Alastor takes a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly. "I'm not who you think I am. I'm not just a charming, charismatic man. I've done things... terrible things.” He says. You scoff. “I’m sure it can’t be that bad.” You say, your voice sugary sweet as you rub his back reassuringly. Alastor lets out a harsh, mirthless laugh. He turns to face you, taking your hands in his. He looks at you with such a deranged and daffy look in his eyes.  "It's that bad. It's worse. I've hurt people. I've killed people." Alastor starts to smile. A wide, psychotic smile. 

Your eyes widen in shock. You knew Alastor always had an eccentric personality—but this? You were expecting something minor, like tax fraud. You had never expected your charming husband to be a serial killer. You focus back into reality as he continues, his voice low and urgent. "It started as self-defense, then protection of others. But it spiraled out of control. The rush, the power... it became addictive." He squeezes your hands almost painfully. "I'm a monster, mon chéri.” Alastor says as if it's an accomplishment. 

“You- You’re the bayou butcher…?” Your breath hitches, praying your beloved husband will say it's all a joke, a sick twisted prank. You watch as Alastor searches your face, trying to gauge your reaction. “Yes.” He admits, laughing psychotically. He stands abruptly, moving away from you. His body is tense, ready to fight. "If you breathe a word of this, I'll have to..." Alastor slowly examines his knife in the moonlight.

“I know I did not marry a serial killer.” You laugh, still thinking this was some sick prank. After all, Alastor was always one for jokes…right…? There was no way.

He stares at you, his expression unreadable. He seems to be trying to decide whether you're joking or serious. "Mon amour, I'm not kidding. I've killed at least 50 people since I was 16. Et j'ai apprécié" His manic smile returns. Suddenly realization sinks in. Alastor is a killer. He isn’t joking. All of those innocent people who have gone missing over the past year…they were all Alastor—the man who you had called your husband for over three years. This was no good-natured chaff. This was all real. You pinch yourself to make sure this isn't a nightmare–but to your horror—it isn’t.

“You are a terrible person.” You say through gritted teeth. Alastor lets out a bitter laugh, "I fooled everyone.”  He looks at his knife, then at you, then puts the knife away. He sighs, rubbing his temples. "But I do love you, mon chéri. And that's why I'm going to have to get rid of you." He pulls out the knife again, his hand shaking slightly. "It's for the best." Alastor smiles wickedly. 

“What-? Wait Alastor! Please!” You beg as he brings the knife closer and pushes you into the soft mattress. He pauses, his hand trembling as he grips the knife tighter. "Mon ange...don't make this harder than it has to be. I don't want to hurt you." His eyes are filled with a conflicted, almost pained expression. "But I will if I have to." You know he’s lying. You know he will kill you, but you try to convince yourself otherwise. “You’re not serious.” You say, your voice quivering in fear. Alastor looks at you, his face contorted in a mix of anger and sadness. "I've never been more serious in my life.” It's too late. He has already decided your fate. “I'm sorry, darling. So sorry." He takes a step closer to you, the knife held out in front of him. "Close your eyes."

You decide it's too late to save him, so you might as well save yourself. You get up from the bed, and run past him, out the bedroom door. Alastor watches you run out of the room, a mix of confusion and anger on his face. "Darling come back! Don't be silly, mon chéri!" Alastor pinches the bridge of his nose. He throws the knife across the room in frustration, before chasing after you. "Y/N, STOP!" You keep running, through the kitchen and study, all the way to the front door. Alastor bursts into the hallway just in time to see you disappearing around the corner. "Shit!" He sprints after you, his heavy footfalls echoing through the house. "Y/N, I'm warning you! Stop running before someone gets hurt!" He yells, his voice booming across the kitchen.

You quickly get the front door open, the cold of the fall breeze seeming to bite at your cheeks. Alastor rounds the corner and sees you stepping out the front door. "Y/N, NO!" He lunges forward, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you back into the house. He slams the door shut and locks it, trapping you both inside. He spins you around to face him, his hands gripping your arms tightly. "NO, Y/N! Listen to me!" His eyes are wild with a dangerous intensity. "I can't let you go. I won't." He leans in close, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. 

​Alastor pulls the knife from his pocket and holds it to your throat, his hand shaking slightly. "I'm sorry, ma chéri. But it has to be this way.”  He presses the blade harder against your throat, drawing a small bead of blood. “I have no other choice." You can sense the anger and malevolence in his voice. “Please Alastor!” Tears fill your eyes. His face contorts in pain, torn between his love for you and his twisted urges. "I'm so sorry, Darling.” His hand tightens around the hilt of the knife, his arm muscles flexing as he begins to pull it across your throat. "Forgive me…” You let out a scream as you choke on your own blood. Alastor watches, his face blank.

Your body goes limp in his arms, face wet with tears. Your neck, collarbone, and upper chest covered with blood. Alastor gently lowers your lifeless body to the ground. He kneels beside you, stroking your hair gently. "I'm so sorry, ma chéri. I never wanted to hurt you." He leans down and kisses your cold forehead, saying goodbye to your now lifeless corpse forever. 

Part Two

[sl33paholics]

Could you write smut of Alucard from Castlevania. Maybe light praise kink and telling the reader how well she's taking him. Definitely have Alucard eat her out and grinding against the mattress while giving head.

You taste incredible

Alucard x fem!reader

Warning(s): smut (eating out), kinks involved (praise kink)

"Just like that, my dear, you're taking me so well."

The long white blonde hair man would say. With a pillow that was placed under your hips, Alucard tilts your pelvis so your feet are resting comfortably on his shoulder blades. Alucard gently pushes up on your abdomen, helping himself expose the clitoris from underneath the clitoral hood. Your legs tighten around him as he lowers himself to kiss down your thigh and slowly inch your knees higher up to make sure the friction is right. Alucard works in silence for a while, then breaks into a grin when he hears you moan. His tongue traces the outer edge of your thighs, before finding your clit again and circling it. You gasp at the jolting sensation.

Alucard is gentle with everything he does. From when you first meet him. From when you first touch his bare skin as you walk around. From when you first kiss. The man's hands move smoothly and easily, as though they've done this before and he knows exactly what to do. The vampire prince wanted to award his princess for being an amazing woman with a fantastic body. Alucard wasn't very good at giving gifts, but he did want to make you happy. So he decided he could show you how much he loved you. Not just through a physical relationship, but by showing the love in your eyes every time you look at him.

You run one of your hands through his hair, feeling the silky strands against your palm. A small groan escapes your lips, and you feel yourself getting wetter with desire.

"Do you like that?" Alucard asks in between nips on your inner thigh, his intoxicating gaze looking up at you as he watched your face contort into a blissful expression, quickly nodding as he went back to work. "You're such a treasure, my love."

Your body tingles all over, goosebumps erupting all over your skin as you let out a low moan and Alucard squeezing your legs tighter, you cohuld feel his fingers work wonders on your swollen clit. Throwing your head back and letting out a loud groan, "You're doing so good, baby, I know you can pull through." You bite your lip when Alucard removes his finger from your clit, giving it gentle kisses. His breath is hot against your skin as he moves back to sucking on your clit, your moans turning louder as Alucard continues to massage your pussy. You writhe under him, "Who’s my beautiful girl?"

"M...m...me~" You moan and clutch onto the bedsheets as you watch Alucard continuing to work on you, his tongue flicking across the tip of your clit as he sucks gently. He doesn't miss a beat. It feels like you're losing your mind. Alucard was driving you crazy with pleasure. All you could think about were his fingertips moving inside of you, and the way he sucked your clit like he owned it, even when he knew it would get hard. It felt too good not to enjoy. You needed more. More stimulation. You needed him.

The rough movements you felt against yourself made you slowly come back to reality, your cloudy thoughts fading away until you realized your fiancé grinding against the bed, his eyes glazed with lust. It was only reasonable for him to pleasure himself while doing the same to his darling.

You squeal and try to sit up straight, pushing away his head, your pussy now drenched and a throbbing mess. You watched as Alucard's pupils dilate, he watches you with hungry eyes, the muscles in his jaw clenching, and the bulge in his boxers making you squirm. It looked like Alucard was ready to explode, but he couldn't restrain himself for any longer.

He moved in front of you, leaning down to capture your mouth in a heated kiss. You kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck as your hands caress his shoulders. This was it. This was it all you've been waiting for. You both finally had your moment after months of not being able to. "Mmh, Alucard, please… please…"

Alucard didn't even need to position yourself on the bed. Your pussy soaked and exposed, legs high up and bent, an exhausted expression on your face was all he needed.

"Take it for me, I know you can. I'm going to make sure everyone knows you're mine~"

[i4kitty]

alexis is a virgin and it definitely shows, first bj, reader likes making alex shy, softcore smut???? sub alex, use of the name “honey”, reader is overbearing turned into caring and patient, lexis is a loverboy 🤍

sorry if there are accidents (⸝⸝⸝-﹏-⸝⸝⸝)

you knew about alex’s crush on you. how could you not? his tone change and constant stuttering around you was enough to notice. you loved seeing him so nervous, it made you feel prideful that he had fallen for you so hard. but to test him even further, you invited him over to your place. innocently covering it up as just “baking cookies”.

in the kitchen, the two of you stand side by side while reviewing the recipe on your phone one last time before starting. you strategically lean over the counter to give him a provocative view of your body. without even looking you could tell he was having a hard time keeping his eyes on the phone. you fake a small cough to keep yourself from smirking.

as time goes by the tension grew palpable. each accidental (purposeful) touch and lingering look from the both of you had alex feeling nervous. you could tell. as he mixed the bowl of ingredients you notice the tight grip he has on the whisk, possibly to keep his hand from shaking. youre watching him too hard. staring at his face, then his flexed arm, then the bowl infront of him then back to his face. his jaw is clenched.

“is something wrong?” your voice is laced with feigned innocence. alex glances at you and softly smiles, shaking his head.

“i can do it for you. your arm must be tired.” you place a hand flat against his chest and gently push him back. you grin as you feel his heart racing against your palm. stepping infront of him, you make sure the curve of your butt brushes against his crotch. you finish whisking for him as if nothing had happened.

you two continue to work in silence. the only sound being the rhythmic thump of a cookie cutter on dough. you were rather relaxed. sharing quality time with one of your closest friends, baking cookies and enjoying eachothers presence. on the other hand alexs mind was racing, trying to decide if he should make a move or if he was reading too much into the situation. he snaps out of it when you reach over in front of him for a napkin, your boobs rubbing against his forearm. youre so close he could smell your shampoo. or maybe thats just the scent of cookies lingering on your skin?

alex was so desperate for you. especially now. his hands began to tremble as he tried to maintain a semblance of normalcy. he could feel the heat from your body and it was driving him crazy. thats when he felt himself throb against his pants. he wondered if the smell of cookies on your skin would persist while the two of you made love. how would your hands feel on his shoulders as he filled you with his love? would you scratch? pinch? or just hold him close? would you see him as a loving partner or just another man? he escapes his thoughts when he notices you watching him.

“whats the matter? you dont look okay” you ask. voice a sultry purr. you look down, finally taking notice of the issue. he tries to hide himself with his hands, averting his eyes. you look back up at him, eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. “let me help you.” grabbing his arm and guiding him to your couch, you can feel his desperation just based off of how closely hes following you.

you sat him on the sofa and take your spot on your knees on the floor infront of him. you spread his legs apart and shuffle closer to him. now that youre in this position, the spot you’ve wanted to be in for so long, you start to feel overwhelmed. you’ve wanted this just as long as alex has and its finally time. you look up at him nervously. hes already staring down at you with an unreadable expression. but you know he’s nervous too due to him not knowing where to put his hands. cute.

you steadily unzip his pants, revealing his black boxers. his breathing is shallow, theres a feeling of pity in your heart. “are you okay? i need to make sure.” you tilt your head and look at him quizzically. “i was having fun with you before, but now it feels like youre going to melt in front of me. so are you sure?”

alex gives you a reassuring smile that you quickly return. in one swift movement you pull both his pants and boxers down to his ankles. you took his cock in your hand, feeling its warmth and the pulse of his blood under his skin. you leaned in and kissed the tip, feeling his hips lightly jerk. alex places a hand in your hair and leans back.

he moans softly, his hips reacting each time you took him deep. his hands tightened in your hair, guiding you the way he liked. theres an occasional loud groan escaping his lips. your eyes began to water a little as your throat contracts around him. but you were determined to be good for him as an apology for getting him riled up like this in the first place.

“honey,” he gasps, voice barely above a whisper. you soften at the nickname. “im gonna.. gonna cum.” due to his strained cry, your hand strokes the base of his cock faster. swirling your tongue and harshly sucking at his tip.

with a strangled moan, alex came. his body tensing. you gladly swallowed what he gave, some of it freely dribbling out of your mouth and down your chin. you kept sucking, milking every last drop out of him until he was spent and panting.

when you pull away he’s quick to clean off the excess cum on your face using the sleeve of his own sweater. you stare dead into his eyes as he cleaned your face. there’s butterflies in your stomach when you recall the domestic petname he had given you. you sit there lost in thought as alex puts his pants back on. he fixes your hair and wipes your face one last time before helping you to your feet. he’s so loving, an angel.

[woozinhos]

Hi! ^^ so basically like a enemies to lovers or wtv where enemy! Scoups and y/n have way too much sexual tension and y/n says something super angst and he pulls y/n into a supply closet and mhm

Stop this is such a good idea let me see what I can do :D

Scoups and you had always had a contentious relationship. You were his rival, always at each other's throats and arguing over every little thing. But underneath the animosity, there was an undeniable tension between the two of you - a magnetic pull that you couldn't ignore.

You could feel his eyes on you during meetings, his gaze burning into your skin like a brand. And every time you spoke to him, your words were laced with a mixture of frustration and desire.

Today was no different. You were at it again, arguing about a new proposal that had been brought up in the meeting. Your voices were raised, the tension between you palpable as the other members watched with interest.

"You're being completely unreasonable!" you exclaimed, glaring at Scoups across the table. "This proposal is a terrible idea and you know it!"

Scoups scoffed, rolling his eyes at your words. "And you're being completely stubborn," he retorted. "Just because you don't agree with me doesn't mean I'm wrong."

The other members watched in silence, sensing the electricity in the air between the two of you. They knew this argument was about more than just the proposal - it was about the tension that had been building between you and Scoups for months.

As the meeting came to a close, Scoups leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a fire in his gaze, a challenge that made your heart race.

"Meet me in the supply closet," he said quietly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "Now."

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words. You knew it was a bad idea - but you couldn't resist the pull between you. You stood up, ignoring the curious looks from the other members as you followed Scoups out of the room.

Scoups led you to a small supply closet, pushing you inside and shutting the door behind him. The space was cramped and dimly lit, but it was perfect for what he had in mind.

He pressed you up against the wall, his body pinning you in place as he leaned in close. "You're driving me crazy," he growled, his breath hot against your ear.

"You always have to argue with me, don't you?" he continued, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "You can't just agree with me for once?"

His body was pressed against yours, the heat of his skin searing through your clothes. You could feel his arousal pressing against your stomach, and it sent a shiver of desire through you.

"You know I won't give in that easily," you retorted, tilting your head back to meet his gaze.

Scoups chuckled, his lips curling into a smirk. "That's exactly what I love about you," he said, his voice low and husky. "You're so stubborn and infuriating, but it only makes me want you more."

He began to trail kisses down your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin as he nipped and sucked at your sensitive flesh. His hands moved up to your wrists, pinning them above your head as he continued to kiss and bite his way down your body.

"You're mine," he growled, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear. "No one else gets to have you like this."

He bit down on your earlobe, tugging gently before soothing the spot with his tongue. His body was pressed against yours, his hips grinding against yours in a slow, teasing rhythm.

You let out a gasp, your body arching against his as he continued to tease and torment you. His hands were still pinning your wrists above your head, leaving you completely at his mercy.

"Say it," he demanded, his lips moving to your collarbone. "Say that you're mine."

You hesitated for a moment, your stubborn nature fighting against the desire to give in to him. But the feeling of his body against yours was too much to resist.

"I'm yours," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Only yours."

Scoups grinned against your skin, clearly pleased with your response. "That's right," he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "You belong to me."

He released your wrists, his hands moving down to grab your thighs and lift you up against the wall. You wrapped your legs around his waist, clinging to him as he pressed himself against you.

He captured your lips in a fierce kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth as he devoured you. His hips rocked against yours, the friction driving you both crazy with need.

"I want to feel you," he panted, breaking the kiss to trail his lips down your neck again. "I want to be inside you. Right now."

You nodded desperately, unable to form words as desire coursed through your veins. You wanted him just as badly as he wanted you, and you were past the point of denying it.

Scoups reached down, fumbling with the buttons on his pants as he struggled to free himself. Finally, he managed to undo them, his cock springing free from its confines.

He groaned as he pressed against your entrance, his tip already slick with precum. "You're so wet for me," he murmured, his eyes dark with lust. "You're so ready for me to take you."

He teased you for a moment, running the head of his cock up and down your slit, coating himself in your wetness.

"Please," you begged, your voice hoarse with need. "Please, I need you inside me."

Scoups smirked at your desperation, clearly enjoying the way he was making you come undone. "Since you asked so nicely," he said, his voice dripping with arrogance.

He positioned himself at your entrance and pushed forward, sliding into you in one smooth thrust.

You let out a strangled moan as he filled you completely, your body clenching around him as he stretched you to your limits. He paused for a moment, giving you a moment to adjust to his size before he began to move.

He set a brutal pace, his hips snapping against yours as he pounded into you relentlessly. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small supply closet, mingling with your gasps and moans.

Scoups' hands were gripping your thighs tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he held you in place. He was relentless, his cock hitting all the right spots inside you with every thrust.

"You feel so good," he grunted, his breath hot against your ear. "You're so tight and wet for me."

You could feel the tension building inside you, the coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter with each thrust. You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you met his every move with equal fervor.

"I'm close," you gasped, your voice ragged with need. "I'm so close, don't stop."

Scoups increased his pace, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he neared his own release. He buried his face in your neck, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below your ear once again.

"Come for me," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "Come on my cock, right now."

The sound of his command pushed you over the edge, and you came with a cry, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Your walls clenched around him, milking his cock as he continued to pound into you.

"Fuck, yes," he groaned, his own release close behind. He thrust into you one last time, burying himself deep inside you as he came with a low moan.

You both stayed like that for a moment, panting and gasping for breath as the aftershocks of your orgasms slowly faded. Scoups pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes still dark with desire.

"You're amazing," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "I can't get enough of you."

You smiled weakly, still trying to catch your breath. "I could say the same about you," you replied, your voice hoarse from all the moaning.

Scoups chuckled, gently setting you down on the floor as he pulled out of you. He tucked himself back into his pants and adjusted his clothes, looking surprisingly put together considering what had just happened.

He turned back to you, his eyes roving over your disheveled appearance with a satisfied smirk. "You look thoroughly debauched," he said, his voice dripping with smugness.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn't deny the truth of his words. Your hair was a mess, your clothes were rumpled and wrinkled, and you were sure your makeup was smeared beyond recognition.

"Yeah, yeah," you muttered, trying to smooth down your hair. "And whose fault is that?"

tags @aaniag

[eternalsams]

Okay Samy hear me out!!

Arthur and you are in this early relationship state where you just can't keep their hands off each other and basically do it all day everyday ���� but at camp, opportunities to be alone are rare and Arthur ends up being really frustrated he can't just take you as he pleases.

And you like teasing him knowing this😏 I mean, purposely unbuttoning more than usual your clothes to show your cleavage, bending forward to grab something just in front of him so he can see, "innocently" rubbing his forearm, stuff like that...

You drive him crazy, and I feel like at the end of the day he would just be tired of it and bring you somewhere to deal with this cheeky behavior 😌

Alone With You ➛ Arthur Morgan

pairing: high honor!arthur morgan x fem!reader

warning/content: 18+, fluff, early relationship stage, teasing, smut (unprotected p in v, hair pulling, fingering, cum eating, body worship, praise kink, oral m!receiving, creampie), Arthur and reader in crotchless historically accurate underwears

summary: Was it really your fault if your hands always ended up on Arthur? You couldn't say so. But when Arthur decides to act on it, you're in for a treat.

word count: 4.9k

a/n: english isn't my first language, please take that into consideration. Any minor interacting with this will be blocked. You have no idea how much research I made for this, about flowers in rdr2 but also about 19th century underwear, so everything is historically accurate.

red dead redemption masterlist main masterlist

You laughed at something Mary-Beth said as you kept rubbing the blood stains from the boys clothes. Your knees were hurting as you stayed on them all morning washing the camp's dirty laundry. Karen looked up over your shoulder and smirked. "I think Mr Morgan quite likes you, girl." She said as Tilly almost gave herself whiplash as she turned abruptly her head to look at the man a little further. You didn't even bother to look, you could feel his eyes on you. Just as much as he could feel yours when he was busy chopping wood. "Well, good for him because I'm quite fond of him too." You looked at her with a certain spark in your eyes. "So, you are making him all soft!" The blonde chuckled and you smiled at her. "If anything, I'm not making him soft." All three girls turned to look at you with wide eyes before you all burst out laughing.

You were about to share another bold secret when you felt a warm breath on your neck. "Having fun there, ladies?" Your friends' mouths shut as their cheeks flushed in embarrassment. But you only smiled more as you turned to face your lover. His long chestnut brown hair framing his face and tickling your skin. "Hey, cowboy." You leaned back as your felt Arthur's arms wrapped around you. He leaned down and pressed a kiss on your cheek. "Hi, pretty girl. Mind if I steal you for a moment?" He didn't wait for an answer and lifted you on your feet, the girls giggling at Arthur's behavior.

You managed to avoid Ms Grimshaw's attention as Arthur pulled you behind a tree. "Feeling adventurous, Mr Morgan?" You whispered as your hands wandered down his chest, playing with the buttons of his flannel shirt. As you were about to unbuckle his belt, his hands stopped yours and he looked sternly into your eyes. "Behave." You smiled and retreated your hands.

He knew that look in your eyes. It was the same one you usually gave him when you'd bend over in front of him, picking something up and looking over your shoulder. Or when you'd let your hand run over his shoulders as he sat around the fire and you'd pass by behind him, your fingers catching the growing locks on his neck and gently tugging on the strands.

You brought up your hands at your own chest and snapped your fingers on the first button, opening your dress just a little bit. Arthur's eyes travelled down and he could guess the swell of your chest, his breath stuck in his throat. His fingers itching at his sides, not knowing if he should stop you or help you getting rid of your clothes. But he quickly made a choice when he heard Bill's voice behind him, reminding him of where you two were. He gently grabbed your hands and took them away from your dress. He kept his gaze on your chest as he buttoned back up your clothes. "I have to leave for a few days. Can you behave while I'm away?" He asked with a little smirk and you scoffed. "Of course, I can. Where are you heading to this time?" You asked as you started playfully fidgeting with his collar. "It's best for you if you don't know. But I'll be back into your arms before the end of the week." He grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles, his eyes staring deep into yours. "Promise?" You felt your cheeks eat up at the antic. "Promise, darlin'. I'll bring you back flowers and maybe you can guess where I've been from them." He smiled at you before kissing your forehead.

He made the habit of bringing you flowers from his trips so you could dry them and keep them in a little notebook he got you. You usually could tell where he wandered off based on what kind of flowers he brought you back. "I'll miss you." You pouted as you kept rubbed his knuckles with your thumb, your hand still in his. "I'll miss you too, pretty girl." He brought your hand to his lips and gently kissed your knuckles before pecking your lips and readjusting his hat on his head. He took a few steps back and walked to his horse. A beautiful liver chestnut mare he found in the wild and tamed.

You watched him mount the horse and walked up to them, patting the animal's neck before giving her a sugar cube you picked in Arthur's satchel. "I'll be back in a few days, wait for me." Arthur looked down at you with a tender smile. "Always." You smiled back at him as you took a few steps back, leaving room for his horse to turn and leave camp.

He gave you one last glance over his shoulders and you teasingly played with the laces of your dress, earning a laugh from him in the distance. You chuckled and laced back your clothes before joining back the girls to finish the laundry.

Just as he said, Arthur was back four days later, a dead deer attached to his horse, bringing food to the camp. You watched him carry the animal to Pearson from afar, admiring how he held the heavy carcass with one arm only, the muscles beneath his tan skin tensing with the effort. He then walked back to his horse and delicately took out a purple flower. You smiled, knowing already this one was for you. He quickly looked around and crossed gaze with you. You felt your cheeks flushing as his eyes bore into yours. He quickly made his way to you and took his hat off when he got close, offering you the flower. "I got this for you." He said lowly, his voice just a whisper like he was careful not to break the bubble of intimacy around the two of you. "Thank you, Arthur. It's really beautiful." You brought the orchid to your nose and inhaled softly, the delicate smell invading your senses. "Not as beautiful as you, I'm afraid." You looked up at him and noticed the little pout he gave you, earning a chuckle from you.

You also noticed the thicker stubble on his jaw and gently caressed the side of his face. "Do you need help shaving?" You asked, your fingers finding that little scarred spot on his chin where hair just refused to grow. "I'm all good, only if it's not uncomfortable for you." He smiled as he nuzzled his face in your neck, the rough facial hair scratching your skin and making you giggle. He delicately pulled the fabric of your dress off your shoulder and placed a gentle kiss there before kissing your neck and making his way up to your face with one last peck on your lips. You felt eyes on you and when you glanced past Arthur's shoulder, you crossed Hosea's eyes who was smiling at the two of you, loving to see his alleged son happy.

"Can you guess where I've been?" Arthur's drew your attention back to him as his thumbs started rubbing circles on your waist. You dropped your gaze to the flower in your hands. It was an orchid, that you knew, you recognized the singular shapes.

"It's an orchid." You said, still inspecting the flower. Arthur hummed in approval as he made you step back to join the confines of his tent. "It's not a lady of the night or a night scented, those are white. Or a ghost orchid." You then said as you blindly trusted Arthur with each step you took. "No, it's not." His voice was low. "So it's not the bayou." You kept inspecting the orchid as he smiled, impressed by how much you knew about the flowers he brought you. "Maybe a dragon's mouth? Those are purple right?" You tried to guess, looking up at Arthur with expecting eyes. The man chuckled lowly and shook his head. "It's not a dragon's mouth, guess again."

You felt the back of your knees bump into his cot and one of his hands left your waist to pull the flaps closed. "Oh, I know! It's a lady slipper!" You exclaimed and just as you were about to look up at Arthur, he crashed his lips on yours, swallowing your gasp.

His hands travelled up your body to your face and hold you against him, slowly parting your lips to taste you after days of longing for you. "Arthur... the flower..." You managed to say between hungry kisses. He delicately took the flower from your hand and put it on the little table next to his bed. "Can you guess where I've been then?" Arthur asked as his lips travelled back down your jaw to reach your neck. You tried to gather your thoughts to form a coherent sentence but all you could think about what Arthur's warm lips on your skin, raising goosebumps along your neck. "The...the bayou..?" You said the first place that came to your mind, earning a laugh from Arthur. "Oh, pretty girl... You said it couldn't be the bayou." He openly laughed at how any smart thought you had left your brain the moment his lips found yours. "...right." You sighed and as you were about to take another guess, a very singular Irish accent was heard. "Hey, are ye all not finished in here? It's still daytime now!"

You felt Arthur groan before you hard him, the vibrations of his voice running along your skin. You regained your train of thoughts and looked up at Arthur's closed eyes. "Big Valley. You went to Big Valley." You whispered as you tried to catch your breath. Arthur opened his eyes and smiled down at you, trying to forget Sean's stupid comments. "I sure did." He confirmed your guess and kissed your forehead. "Let me take you somewhere. Just the two of us, for a day or two." He practically begged you and you couldn't do anything else than smile at him. "Of course, I'll go anywhere as long as I'm with you."

"Let's go now." Arthur took your hand in his and went to open the tent's flaps. "Now?" You giggled, following him outside, where every pair of eyes stared at the two of you. "Then when? Let's go now, the others won't miss us." You turned to look at your friends and it was mostly the girls watching you from afar and trying to catch the interesting parts of your conversation. You waved them off and followed Arthur to his horse. He helped you get on the mare, making sure you were comfortable on the saddle before he jumped behind you, surprising the proud animal with the extra weight on her back. For a moment, you were worried you might hurt her back but Arthur reassured you she'd carried heavier than the two of you. "So, where are you taking me, Mr Morgan?" You asked as you turned your torso to look back at him. His arms were at each side of you, holding the reins, and his feet locked in the stirrups. "That, my lady, is a surprise. You'll have to be patient."

"Now, you know patience isn't one of my virtues, Arthur." You giggled as he led his horse out of camp. "That I know." He chuckled and wrapped one of his arms around your waist to keep you against him.

You had spent the entire afternoon riding West, following the setting sun and when you saw the silver lupine fields, you had no difficulty guessing where Arthur was taking you. West Elizabeth, Big Valley. And just as the sun finally disappeared behind the high mountains, Arthur's horse left the main road and sank into the woods, revealing a cute little house among the trees. "Found this cabin two days ago. I saw that huge buck last time I came here. Its coat was brown and white, I'd never seen any deer that color, it was splendid." Arthur told you as he stopped his horse in front of the little cabin. "Did you kill it?" You asked, you knew how much he loved wilderness but you also knew a large deer meant a lot of meat for camp. "I did. Took the meat, skinned it, kept the antlers to sell them. Brought back the meat in camp." He dismounted and helped you get off, catching you carefully as you set your feet back on the ground. "But I drew it in my journal for you." He offered you a smile and guided you to the cabin.

"So, when I left camp a few days ago, I wanted to find it. But I found this cabin first, empty. It's been abandoned years ago in my opinion, and nobody ever came back. I stayed here, got some rest after my trip and the next day, I grabbed my best rifle and went hunting. I got him after more than 10 hours out there." He said proudly and you couldn't help but chuckle. Arthur was a quiet man, a quiet soul, but it felt like when he was with you, he always wanted to tell you his exploits. He always had a story to tell or a question for you. Always wanted to talk with you.

He made sure to lock the front door after you and you discovered the insider of the abandoned cabin. It was a little cold but you noticed an old fireplace so you had no doubt Arthur was going to light a fire to warm you up for the night. "So, why did you bring me here, cowboy?" You asked as you leaned back on your hands on the table. You watched Arthur gathering the logs in the fireplace and cracking a match to start the fire. "You know why, pretty girl." He chuckled lowly as he made sure the fire would last all night. He then stood up and turned to you with a cocky smile. "Do I now?" You arched an eyebrow as he got closer and caged you between his arms. "The camp is too crowded for what I wanna do to you." He mumbled as he nuzzled his face in your neck, inhaling your perfume.

"And what is it you want to do, Mr Morgan?" You tilted your head back, giving him access to your neck. Your lover didn't answer, only planting kisses on your skin, his hands getting adventurous in your back. His fingers trailing down your back, his lips cascading down the column of your throat until he reached the cleavage of your dress, his nose slotting between your breasts. As he was about to reach to unbutton the front of your dress, you did it first, allowing him access to your chest. With one hand, he unhooked your corset, revealing the white chemise underneath. You watched his lips follow the path of his fingers, trailing down your chest as he tugged at the top of your chemise to kiss the swell of your breasts. "Arthur...please..." You sighed lowly, your fingers taking hold on his hair and guiding him where you wanted him.

He happily complied, devouring the supple skin revealing itself to him. You whined softly when he nibbled on the skin, leaving a light red mark before moving to your other breast. "We're all alone..." Arthur mumbled against your skin, moving back up to look into your eyes. "We are." You nodded, your breathing heavy and heart beating fast and hard in your chest. "And you're all mine." He gently grabbed your chin and made you look up into his eyes. "I am." You confirmed before he jumped on your lips, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he held you firmly against his lips. Your movements turned rushed as well, your hands trying to get rid of his coat, pulling the material down his arms as best as you could. He released your face to help you undress him, dragging his suspenders off his shoulders to pull the shirt off his torso.

The only few times you had been intimate with Arthur, you didn't really have the time to get fully undressed. He would usually push up your skirt to your waist, drag down his pants as best as he could to free himself of his confines and take you as fast and quiet as possible. The more of him you saw was when he was doing chores around camp. Chopping wood, carrying haystacks. And that only if the sun was high in the sky, forcing him to work shirtless because of the heat. So when he threw his shirt away, putting you face to face with his naked torso, you felt yourself blush. Your hands started shaking with anticipation and you fought the urge to caress the patches of hair on his chest. You looked back up at him and noticed how dark his eyes were, his pupils completely blown by desire.

"You're so beautiful..." He breathed out quietly, as if to keep the privilege of seeing you like this only to himself. Not daring to draw any attention on you and keep you to himself. Your body received a rush of confidence from his praise and you snaked your arms around his middle, pushing him onto the bed a little further into the cabin. He sat down on it and pulled you onto his lap, making you straddle his thighs. His face was once again on the same level as your breasts and he couldn't resist getting lost in the warm flesh one more time. Your hands made quick work on getting rid of your chemise, revealing your naked form to him as he maintained your hips nestled against his.

Occasionally, he'd thrust up his hips, searching friction on his hardening member. And you'd whine, feeling your arousal pool in your lower belly and soak your thighs. "Let's get you rid of this, shall we?" Arthur said in a low voice, the desire well known in his tone. He finished pulling your dress off your body, almost ripping it off you in the process. Now that you were only wearing the bottom of your undergarment, he could clearly see the wet spot on your inner thighs. Arthur was never one to really pay attention to fashion but when he saw the crotchless underwear you were wearing, he thanked all the gods that could hear him. He snaked a hand between your legs and ran a finger up your folds, finding them drenched. You moaned his name as you clutched his hair in your grip.

You leaned down and started peppering kissed along his neck, moving up to his ear to kiss the sensitive skin behind it. His free hand was on your ass, holding you firmly against him and encouraging you to ride his hand. And you did, you started rolling your hips, chasing pleasure along his digits. "Such a good girl for me. All soaked and ready for me to take her." He cooed at you, relishing on the lewd sounds of your wet cunt sliding on his hand. "Say it, baby. Say you're my good girl." Arthur looked up at you expectantly. As you were about to answer him, you felt one of his fingers slide in and curl at the perfect spot, making you whine. "We're alone. You can be as loud as you need to. Let me hear you." he said as he kissed the underside of you jaw as you tilted your head back in pleasure. "I'm yours... I'm your good girl." You managed to pronounce, that usual coil starting to tighten in your stomach.

You slightly pulled on Arthur's hair and whined his name, asking for more. He kept peppering kisses along your throat and added another finger in your cunt, feeling your walls stretch around his digits and accommodate to their size. "You're being so good for me. What a good girl you are." He smiled up at you and pulled you down to kiss you. He didn't waste any time before running his tongue along your lips and tasting your moans and whimpers. His fingers were still brushing that delicious spot inside you, bringing you closer and closer and closer. Until you forcefully grabbed his wrist with one hand, pulled on his hair with the other and your whole body tensed up with your orgasm. Arthur let go of your lips as you cried out his name, your voice breaking with the intensity of your release. Your walls spasmed around his fingers and he kept curling them until you completely rode out your orgasm.

When he made sure you were back to him, he carefully pulled his fingers out, admiring your creamy release on them. He brushed his fingers on your lips, leaving a trail of cum across them before sucking one finger into his mouth, tasting the very essence of you. Your tongue darted out automatically, tasting yourself. You opened your eyes and grabbed Arthur's hand, bringing his fingers to your lips and licking them clean. You felt his cock twitch beneath you at the action, his eyes darkening even more as he watched you suck his fingers and savoring your own release off them. As you let go of his fingers, he immediately kissed you, licking the inside of your mouth to taste the remnant of your juices on your tongue. You moaned against him and made quick work to open his pants, getting impatient and needy.

Arthur slightly jumped and flinched as your fingers first brushed his erection. "Hey, slow down, girl. I'm not gonna last long if we don't take it slow." He gently kissed your cheek and wrapped his arms around your waist, spinning you and laying you down on the bed. He pulled off your undergarment and kissed your navel before getting off the bed. He didn't take his eyes off you as he kicked off his boots and pulled down his pants, throwing the jeans somewhere in the cabin. You would've laughed at him for standing so proud half naked, hard cock standing against his belly, in a cabin that wasn't even yours if you weren't so desperate for him to take you. You reached out for him and pulled him to you.

You delicately pulled his underwear down his legs and wrapped your hands around his base, guiding him to your lips. His hand automatically reached for your hair without griping it. You watched as his eyes fell closed, lost in pleasure. You started with a few kisses on his tip, relishing at the taste of the precum gathered there. "God dammit..." You heard him swear above you, not knowing what to do with his hands. You grabbed one of his hands and brought it to your jaw, inviting him to hold your face. You parted your lips and slowly pulled him into your mouth. Arthur growled, his thumb rubbing on your cheek to distract him but the moment he felt his cock nudging the inside of your cheek and poking at his thumb, he was a goner. He pushed you off him and you released him with a pop. "I can't- I can't..." He sighed out, out of breath. You looked up at him, a string of spit mixed with precum still attached your lips to his tip.

"What can't you do?" You asked quietly, your heart beating fast with how nervous those two words made you.

He looked down at you and felt his heart break in his chest when he noticed the doubt in your eyes. He quickly kneeled down in front of you and kissed you deeply, tasting himself on your lips. "I cannot possibly last if you keep that up." He tried to reassure you between two kisses. You giggled and pulled him on top of you, laying back down on the cot. His hands were nowhere and everywhere at the same time, his hips pressing against yours and his pubes scratching your clit, sending jolts of pleasure up your entire body. You caught Arthur's lip between your teeth and nibble on the rosy flesh. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this." He murmured, grabbing his cock between your two bodies and giving it a few slow pumps.

"How long I've waited to have you all to myself and have you screaming my name. Can't have that in camp, yeah?" He pushed his tip against your folds, gathering your arousal and use it as lube. You squirmed and whined, trying to catch his cock with your hole, feeling like you were about to explode if he didn't take you soon. "Well, I wouldn't mind the others to hear. Everyone in camp would know who you belong to, who makes you feel so good you can't do anything but scream my name." He chuckled, bringing his tip to your entrance and pushing in slowly, allowing just the tip to be embraced by your warmth. "Sweet heavens..." He closed his eyes, trying not to shoot his load too fast.

His words had you giggling, his voice anchoring you to reality and the present moment. "You ain't even a believer." You brought your hands to his face, cradling it in your palms. "I know heavens exist, and it's between your legs. You devious goddess..." He sighed and nuzzled his face in your neck, slowly pushing his cock deeper inside you. You could feel every inch of him push against your inner walls, stretching them and carving them with his imprint, his veins. His hands pushed your thighs apart, giving more space for his hips to kiss yours. "Just take me, Arthur... Please." You whined and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him to you. "Alright...alright..." He put one of his hands on your hips and pushed all the way in, until he felt his balls slap your ass and heard his name gasped from your lips. He pulled almost all the way out and thrusted back in, his hips hitting yours at a dangerous pace.

You could hear him mumble things against your skin. And when he wasn't mumbling, he was kissing your skin, practically making out with your neck and leaving purple marks on your skin. One of his hands shot down to your clit and started drawing circles on the bundle of nerves, trying to get you closer to the edge. You wrapped one of your legs around his hips, the new angle having the both of you moaning as he hit that spongy spot inside you. Your voice getting higher and your cunt tighter were a clear sign you were getting closer and Arthur couldn't get more addicted. "That's it, sweet girl. Take what you need, cum for me. Cum on my cock." He grunted as he felt his own release approach, his balls tightening with pleasure as he fought against his instincts to keep his orgasm at bay.

Your moans got louder and your grip on Arthur's hair tighter as you felt your cunt contracting as a wave of pleasure flooded you before every muscle of your body relaxed at the same time, the euphoria having you see stars. Arthur couldn't help the moans from slipping between his lips as he felt your cunt squeezing him. The sight of you cumming on his cock and the sound of his name screamed in such a way pushed him over the edge. The pleasure was so intense, the thought of pulling out wasn't even in his mind, your cunt milking him for everything he had. You felt the warmth of his release pool into you, painting your inner walls white. A low whine left his lips as your cunt clenched around him in overstimulation. You pulled his head out of your neck and brought his face to yours, kissing his lips. His eyes were closed as he tried to compose himself.

"You're okay?" You whispered, pushing a strand of sweaty golden hair out of his face. He weakly nodded and opened his eyes, piercing your own with his green orbs. He gently pulled out, not without a whine from you, feeling way too empty after the moment you just shared. He grabbed his jeans and pulled them on before taking his shirt and pouring some clean water on it. You watched him carefully, laying naked on the bed, still floating in your post-orgasm euphoria. He kneeled in front of the fire and held out his damp shirt for a few second, warming up the garment before walking back to you. He delicately pulled your thighs apart and watched his release drip out of you before cleaning you up with the warm wet shirt. "I'm sorry, that was stupid of me to finish inside." He whispered as he massaged your thigh with his free hand. "It's alright." You sat up and kissed him on the lips. You offered him a smile and he gave you one back.

He went to grab your chemise and your undergarment and gave them to you before he slid under the covers, pulling you onto him when you were done dressing back up. He wrapped his arms around you and inhaled the sweet perfume in your hair, probably a new soap you found in town. He closed his eyes, relishing on the feeling of your body against his, nothing to hear except the crackling of the flammes in the fireplace. No Micah annoying the ladies, no Bill telling some perverse story. Only the fire and your breathing, the feeling of your beating heart against your chest. Those long awaited three words almost made their way out of Arthur's lips that night, but he caught them and swallowed them back, feeling like it wasn't the right time. so he simply held you close, his heart beating in symbiosis with yours.