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Catch a Ride to Heaven ❤︎ Arthur Morgan

Kinktober Day IV: Virginity

summary: rebellious reader is a sinner for her cowboy tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, virginity loss, p in v, praise, fingering, religious symbolism, cherry popping, midhonor!arthur, smoking, dom!arthur, sub!reader, rough sex, a bit of degradation, pet names, author attempts at accents wc: 5.7k

MASTERLIST

“Ma’am”

You looked up from your bible sitting on your lap, noticing a rather large man standing before you. His shoulder-length brown hair cascades down, framing his rugged features and intense blue eyes. A short beard adorns his handsome face, emphasizing the scar on his chin. Despite his rugged appearance, his smile reveals straight white teeth, complementing his sun-kissed skin with charming freckles. His well-worn cowboy hat had seen better days, colored black with a weathered rope tied around the middle and what looked to be claw marks running down the sides.

“Good morning, mister,” you answered, fiddling with the cross around your neck, trying to tame the sinful thoughts running through your mind. You had come to notice this man from afar. He would stop by your little town now and again, whether that was to buy guns or sell a suspicious amount of items at the fence nearby. Your eyes always followed him. You couldn't help it, although you tried to pray the feelings away many times. God never answered your prayers.

Your daddy was the local pastor. He was always smiling and friendly, claiming he prayed for every person he came across. He was a good man, always going out of his way to serve others. It seemed God had given him the gift of spreading his love all over, yet it seemed to run out when it came to you.

Your daddy had always been hard on you after your mama passed. Your brain was too young to remember much of her, but you could still remember the sound of her voice in your ears and the soft, comforting scent of her clothes.

Daddy said it was because he loved you; he was so strict, which you never really understood. Anytime you made a mistake or a mishap, Daddy would sharpen you back into shape, sometimes going to extreme measures. The bruises on your behind still stung when you sat down.

He never permitted you to be alone around other men, claiming you had to stay pure in the eyes of God or else you'd burn in hell for all eternity for spreading your legs for no-goods. He said men only wanted one thing, but he never specified what. It didn't take you long to figure it out. You were a smart girl. At least, that's what everybody said.

You didn't feel smart now as Daddy’s teachings drifted from the back of your mind like a cloud of smoke, thoughts of purity and maidenhood be damned. God knows you tried to resist them, and you really did. To push those thoughts aside, burn them, shut them out as much as you could.

But wouldn't he have answered your prayers if God were all-loving? Heaven knows you wanted to be a good girl. You did, truly! But there was something about this man that had your body growing warm, his deep southern drawl reaching into deep parts of you you never even knew existed. He had your voice growing shy, your hands feeling clammy as your thighs pressed together, desperate to soothe that sweet ache between your legs.

Sometimes, he would compliment you, saying he liked your dress or how you style your hair.

“May I say you're lookin’ lovely' today, little lady.” You swallowed deeply, your lips parting as you gazed up at him, eyes wide. “Thank-thank you, mister,” you stammered, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“You…you're awfully kind.” You continued, not being able to help yourself. How could you stay away when you yearned for him so deeply?

“I ain’t really,” he answered bluntly, his eyes boring deep into yours, the corners of his lips twitching into a grin. You've seen that same look on many men before, but only he had your heart racing with want.

“Maybe just to pretty ladies like yourself,” he continued, his hand reaching up to scratch his stubble chin.

If your face wasn't on fire before, it sure was now. You didn't know what to say as you began to stutter, sweat building between your legs and inside of your bodice. “I don't—” Your fingers curled around your cross, praying to God to give you strength or show mercy.

“What’s your name anyway?” He spoke up for you, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a pack of premium cigarettes. He placed the stick between his lips as he held the lighter close to his face, raising a brow when you lacked a response.

You gave him your name. Your eyes were bashful as they looked down at his shoes, noting the quality of the leather and his metal spurs.

“Ain't that lovely,” he responded, gray tendrils of cigarette smoke escaping his nose, his eyes never straying from your face.

“What’s yours?” you asked, fighting to keep your voice steady as your subconscious body seemed to float away, high into the sky and never to be seen again. You've never felt so euphoric. If it was wrong, how come it felt so right?

“Arthur,” he answered, tapping the ash from the end of the stick away into the dirt. “Arthur Morgan,”

“Well, it… it's very nice to meet you, Mr. Morgan,” you said politely, part of you hoping to appease him. It seemed to work as his grin grew wider, his teeth poking out from behind his pink lips.

“Yeah,” he agreed, his eyes looking you up and down. “You too,” he said, emphasizing your name before exhaling another cloud of smoke. You bit your lip to hold back the whine building in your chest. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it. I just wanted to put a name to a face s’all.”

You wanted to tell him, no, to please stay, just a little longer. And yet you only watch in silence as he dipped his hat to you before turning and striding in the other direction. You watched him go, eyes drifting low to his backside, appreciating the natural sway of his hips as he left.

My Lord, please give me strength.

You and Arthur had met several more times after that. He'd sometimes saunter up to you after church, asking about your day and flirting with you right in front of the house of God, sometimes even in front of your Daddy.

Daddy had given you a good whooping after that, reminding you to stay away from that man if you know what's good for you. But you just couldn't, no matter how hard you tried. Lord knows you did.

But like Eve and the serpent, Arthur offered you the tastiest treat you couldn't refuse. Why did it feel so good if these feelings were so condemned? You started questioning your faith the more Arthur lingered around, and you started to fear for your sake. Maybe he was no good after all. Perhaps this was all a test.

But no horns were sprouting from the outlaw’s head, no devil’s tail swaying mischievously behind his back, he had no red eyes, and no white fangs. And despite what the poets might say, he had no slimy forked tongue. And you would know, counting how many times your eyes had fallen to his mouth as he spoke. Each time his tongue ran over his lips, yours would do the same.

There came a time when he placed a hand on your shoulder, leaning close to your face when he asked to buy you a room somewhere for the night. His cold eyes burn through you. You knew you should've said no, refused the forbidden fruit, and asked him to leave you alone for good. You were a child of God, blessed without sin, and designed for purity. But those would all be lies. No one is without sin. You thought as you nodded, your breath shaky and your cheeks stained red.

Daddy will raise hell. You reminded yourself, but it was already too late. You sealed your fate when you decided to shake hands with the devil.

As Arthur led you up the stairs, his hand entangled with yours, his heavy footsteps echoed throughout the hotel, the wooden floors creaking under his weight.

He opened the door for you to enter the small and empty room, the hair rising on the back of your neck as he followed close behind you. “Arthur, I—” you stammered when it dawned on you, realizing what you were about to do.

“Shh, don't be nervous,” he soothed as a heavy hand rested on your hip, sliding up your waist. “I’ll take good care of you,” he reassured, gently removing his hat and placing it on the night table beside the bed.

Like a predator circling its prey, he stalked around your body until he stood in front of you, both hands on your hips as he smiled down at you. He was so close. You almost let out a whine of fear, eyes glued to his teeth to ensure he didn't have fangs, just in case.

“I promise I don't bite,” he chuckled, almost like he could read your thoughts. Maybe he could. He leaned close to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Unless you want me to.”

You couldn't hold back the whimper that escaped you, anxiety and desire twisting and churning in your stomach, leaving you speechless.

“I've never…” Your voice trailed off, the words getting lodged in you as Arthur hummed in response, seemingly unsurprised.

“I figured,” he chuckled, confirming your suspicions. “Sweet, innocent things like you usually are,” he grinned, flicking the cross against your chest. You weren't sure what to make of that.

“We just won't tell ‘em, ay?” he let out a huff of amusement, reaching back to unclasp the necklace around your neck.

“Wait,” you halted him, gazing at his confused expression. “I…I want to leave it on,” you murmured, eyes drifting downwards, hoping you hadn't disappointed him. You weren't sure why you wanted it to stay; it didn't make sense logically. He was right; you should put it away, considering what you were about to do—what you were about to let him do to you.

However, something about it gave you a sense of peace or reassurance: even though you were betraying everything you were ever taught, everything you've ever known, God was still there, and he still loved you. Maybe giving in to your deepest desires could reconnect you to him in some way, that finding pleasure in the most sinful of ways wasn't sinful at all. Wouldn't he want you to feel good if he really loved you? To take what you want?

He was silent momentarily before he removed his hands from your grasp. Here it comes. You thought, eyes shutting, waiting for his disapproval.

His fingers grasped your chin, tilting it upwards, his thumb rubbing softly over your bottom lip. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.” his voice cutting through the silence. “You can do whatever you like, darlin’.” his low, warm voice was gentle and consoling, offering comfort instead of pain.

“Thank you,” you breathed a heavy sigh of relief, your eyes gazing up at him with adoration, yet your hands continued clutching your dress, unsure of where to put them.

He hummed again, taking your small hands in his much larger ones, gently urging them towards him. You gasped as your fingers made contact with his skin, like it was the most lewd thing you've ever done. It might as well have been.

“I should be thankin’ you,” he responded, lifting your right hand to meet his lips, kissing your knuckles with a sweet softness you've never known. “Ain’t every day I meet a pretty girl like you.” he charmed, stepping closer towards you, your body stiff with nerves.

“I thought you said you were always nice to pretty girls.” You recollected, thinking back to the time you were first properly introduced.

“Well, I might've lied. Just a bit,” Arthur smirked, chuckling at your shocked expression. “They're not always as sweet as you,” he whispered, his face inching closer to yours. As your noses brushed together, he tilted his face to the side, one hand reaching up to guide your face to do the same in the opposite direction.

“Arthur, I don't know–” “It's alright,” he hushed, his breath hot against your lips. “Just follow my lead, alright?” You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath when he requested you to. “Close your eyes,” he whispered, the thin hairs of his beard tickling your cheeks. “Now, breathe out. Slow.”

As the cool air inside your chest unfurled from your lungs, his mouth pressed against yours. You squeaked in surprise, squeezing your eyes shut as his lips moved against yours. His hands smoothed down your lower back, pushing you closer until his erection was pressing up against your stomach.

You moaned into his lips, your body set ablaze as you struggled to kiss him back, your movements stiff and uncoordinated. He pulled away, a deep chuckle leaving his chest, causing you to squirm in shame.

“Just relax, sweetheart.” he purred, the fingers undoing the top buttons of your dress. “Don't be so nervous,”

“Easy for you to say,” you huffed, watching as his hands descended to each button, opening it with practiced fingers. He laughed, kissing your forehead with a smile. “I know, but just trust me.”

Trust me.

This was the most trust you've ever put in anyone you've ever met in your entire life. Here, this man was undressing you so calmly, like it was the most casual thing in the world. It probably was, to him. How many girls has he been with? You thought almost bitterly, jealousy spiking at him cherishing any other woman like this.

Every man you've ever met has bragged about how many girls he's bedded, whether they were modest wives or working whores, it didn't matter. It didn't matter if the man was handsome or ugly, rich or poor, dirty or clean. They all had the same goal in mind. Maybe Daddy was right. You thought anxiously as your dress fell into a pool around your ankles, leaving you in your bodice. Perhaps you were just another notch under Arthur’s belt. Even Daddy would stumble home with his clothes undone and lipstick stains adorning his neck.

Maybe Arthur is different. Maybe he's a good man.

“What's goin’ on up there,” Arthur asked teasingly, yet concern still laced around the edges of his voice. “If you don't want this–”

“I do!” You interrupted quickly, hands latching onto the front of his shirt, your lips puckering in embarrassment. “Sorry, I–I'm just nervous s’all.”

“I know,” he said, his arms resting against your upper arms, rubbing his calloused hands over your soft skin. “I understand. We’ll take it slow.” He promised, leaning forward to capture your lips in another kiss. He held his lips against yours this time, letting you adjust to him as his fingers deftly coiled around the strings of your bodice, slowly unlacing them one by one.

“S’been awhile myself,” he admitted, hoping to soothe you in some way as he took his time undressing you until you were left in only your bloomers, standing still with your face hot and your lips chewed raw.

“You don't…” you hesitated, wondering if you even wanted to know the answer. “…do this often?” You finally inquired as his eyes filtered over your exposed form. “Nah…” he answered, hands running all along your body.

“Well… once upon a time, maybe.” he grinned at you wickedly, his white teeth gleaming underneath his self-satisfied smirk. He laughed, finding the expression you subconsciously made amusing.

“Don't get all jealous now. It ain't like that anymore.” He promised, unbuttoning his clothes this time, undoing his vest, and taking off his short sleeve. “I wouldn't take advantage of someone like you,” he reassured, undoing his suspenders until he was left in nothing but his pants with his gun belt still sitting heavy over his hips and gun holster attached to his side.

Your eyes roamed to a large expanse of his chest, thick, coarse hair sprouting from his skin and leaving a path down into his pants. “Now,” he started again, your eyes snapping back to his face.

“Go sit on the bed for me,” he commanded, his tone firm yet tender, a heavy hand smoothing over your head. After letting his words sink in, you did as you were told. You knocked off your shoes as you sat at the edge, trying to avoid his gaze. With a simple click, he pulled the gun belt from around his pants and set it down near his hat, his holster following suit.

“Take ‘em off,” he instructed, his eyes studying your face as he undid his belt, waiting for you to undress. You clutched the warm off-white fabric of your clothes, your breaths coming in shaky, knowing you were about to expose your body to a man; you've never felt so vulnerable.

“I won't ask you again,” he threatened, his lips tightening as his eyes narrowed. “I have no problem takin’ you back home.” Just the thought of home had fear swirling in your gut. You'd instead take this than face your daddy. You knew it was unavoidable, but you'd rather it at least be worth it.

You nodded your head swiftly, standing back up to shed yourself of your underclothes until you were left in nothing but a necklace sitting on your naked chest. The cold surface of its metal and the cool air caused your skin to rise in goosebumps, your nipples perking in response.

“Good girl,” he purred, eyes drinking in your naked form with a dark hunger you've never seen. The spurs of his boots clicked as he reached forward, carefully sliding them off before setting them aside.

As you sat back against the bed, your fingers reached up again, clasping your cross, letting its sharper ridges poke against your skin.

“Don’t be scared now,” you gasped as his pants fell to the floor, his cock finally springing free mere inches from your face. Your jaw practically dropped to the floor as you stared. You've never seen one before. Do they all look like that? Are they always this big?

“You okay?” he laughed, strutting towards you, his cock bobbing between his thighs, hanging low towards the floor. Up close, you could see every vein protruding from underneath his foreskin, a strange liquid shining at the tip.

“Um…” you were at a loss for words, unable to look away. “What if it doesn't… y’know,” Arthur tilted his head to the side as he neared, hands on your waist as he urged you back further. “…fit?” You finished with a squeak as your head hit the pillow below, and your hair splayed out behind you.

You peered up at him, curious as his cheeks dusted into a dark shade of pink. Was he embarrassed? Did I offend him? “It’ll fit,” he said, looking away almost bashfully. “Gotta prepare you first,”

Prepare me?

He leaned forward until his forearms rested against either side of your head, trapping you underneath his body. Soft brown hair strands framed his face as he leaned closer, and front pieces fell over his thick brows.

You gazed into his clear blue eyes, deep as the sea, with a warm yellow ring around his black irises, reminding you of the sun’s rays casting light across blue skies. His eyes flickered between yours, seemingly searching for something before his lips connected to yours once more, his hairy chest pressing against your breasts.

Reaching up with shaky hands, you entangled them into his hair, resting them gently in fear of maybe hurting him. “That’s it…” he encouraged, his hand finding yours, interlocking your fingers, and pressing them to the bed.

“Just breathe,” he reminded before kissing you again, his cock twitching against your thigh, subtly rutting against you. You did as you were told: in and out. You thought to yourself as you practiced slow breaths until your heartbeat slowed to a semi-normal pace. “You got it,” he smiled into the kiss before continuing down your neck, rubbing his lips over sensitive skin.

You whimpered, your hand tightening against his as he lowered even further, reaching your chest. He let out a deep groan as he pressed his face against your breast, taking a nipple into his mouth to suck.

You looked down at him in shock, unsure what to do as he began rutting harder against you. Is this what people do? You were so confused, your thoughts racing a mile a minute. He let go with a slow suck, his heavy eyes meeting yours once more.

“Have I sprouted three heads?” he chuckled, worrying his lip with his top teeth. You shook your head, one hand gripping his shoulder to balance yourself.

“I don't… am I doing this, right?” As you whispered, your face flushed with warmth, and you squeezed his hand tightly, seeking comfort.

“You don't gotta worry your pretty little head over nothin’,” he said as his fingers dipped between your bodies, tracing over your thighs before nearing your pussy. You could feel its dampness trickle between your legs and into the sheets, your little pearl throbbing with need.

“You're perfect,” he murmured, his gaze softening into an emotion you've only seen flicker in his eyes and disappear as if it was never there. But this time, it stayed; it settled for you.

You didn't know what to say, so you opted not to speak; the silence spoke for itself as you stared back. The hand in Arthur’s hair cupped his stubble cheek, urging him closer before kissing his lips. He grunted at the contact, his tongue prodding the entrance of your mouth, forcing it to open before it slid inside.

No fork. The thought popped into your mind as Arthur’s tongue slid against yours, massaging the wet muscle with flicks of his own.

The hand against your leg reached underneath your thigh, lifting it around his waist before dipping back between your legs. You gasped into his mouth as his thumb reached underneath your hood, finding your pulsing clit and pressing down, moving in slow and deliberate circles. You moaned out; never once had you felt anything so amazing in your entire life. You had never touched yourself down there before; shame always held you back, and now you regret it.

All those times you refused your aching body with release almost seem abusive looking back now.

“Oh, Arthur,” you gasped into his mouth as he continued, your hips lifting to try and chase the addicting sensation.

“It feels so…” You couldn't even find the words to describe the feeling. It would be useless to try to explain it now.

“Like that?” he groaned, picking up the pace of his movements as his other fingers teased your entrance, coating his calluses in your essence. You nodded, mouth still open as broken whines and whimpers escaped your wet lips. You arched your back, your face falling to the side as you squeezed his hand, nails biting into the flesh of his skin. Arthur didn't seem to notice; if he did, he didn't show it, fully enraptured by your sensitive flesh.

“Christ, you're so wet.” Arthur didn't mean anything by it, but the mention of a name so holy during a time like this had your thighs closing around his forearms, trapping his hand against you.

He was also right. You don't think you've ever been this wet in your entire life. “Don't stop, Arthur.” You pleaded, trying to reopen your legs to give him more room.

“Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart,” came his husky reply. You sighed at his words, more so the thickness of his voice.

“Wider, darlin’,” he grunted, his middle finger catching onto the rim of your hole. “Gotta stretch you nice and proper, so you can take my cock.”

“Arthur!” you whined, embarrassed by his words, throwing an arm over your eyes. He laughed breathlessly, his movements slowing down. “Thas’ what you want, ain’t it?” He urged his finger, slowly inserting itself as you bucked upwards, trying to chase the dwindling pleasure.

You whimpered in reply, opening your legs further, allowing him to slip his finger in deeper. It was so thick and so warm, your pussy welcoming him with wet pulses as he slowly moved it in and out. The pain was sharp but was slowly replaced as his finger curled deeper, reaching places you weren't aware even existed.

“There’s a girl,” he rasped, eyes glancing between your face and your slippery cunt before adding a second finger. He wasn't deterred by the small amounts of blood coating his digits, only focused on making you feel as good as possible while preparing you to take him.

“You're doing so well.” he sighed, twisting his fingers before spreading them into scissoring motions, completely enraptured as your pussy convulsed around him, spilling more and more slick as his fingers quickened their pace.

The only sound in the room was your deep moans and the sloppy sound of your wet pussy getting fucked by his hand. Arthur shifted his wrist so the edge of his palm rubbed against your sensitive button, curling his hands deep against your G-spot and smirking in triumph once he found it.

“There it is,” he chuckled as he gazed upon your expression. Your thighs slammed closed around his wrist as you arched your back deeply, feeling your spine ache in protest, but you didn't care.

“Ah! Right there!” You squeezed his hand with all your strength as a new sensation built in your stomach. Something was coming.

“Arthur!” You whimpered; your free hand reached towards his wrist, which was now twisting with more force as his fingers pumped faster, harder.

“Wait! It’s—I’m,” Arthur was quick to silence you with another deep kiss, yet you couldn't kiss him back as much as you wanted, your mouth struggling to stay closed as whorish noises forced their way out.

“Just let go, honey,” he groaned, the heel of his palm digging deeper. “It's alright, just let go.” His voice was so thick and coarse, so warm and so rich, so deep and so guttural you couldn't help but fall victim to his spell.

With one final wail, you felt something rush out of you, something liquid but didn’t quite feel like pee. All you knew was that it felt good.

I hope this is what heaven feels like.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your voice growing tight as Arthur continued his pace, helping you ride out your high before eventually slowing, dragging out your orgasm for as long as he could.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he moaned, taking in your debauched state with a proud smile. Your hair was in disarray, strands sticking to your sweaty skin as your eyes fluttered, lashes resting against your darkened cheeks, and your eyebrows drawn close. Your lips were wet and rubbed red from his kisses, drool lewdly sticking to the corners of your mouth. Your naked chest heaved, your cross still sitting in between your breasts.

“You alright?” Arthur chuckled, slowly removing his fingers from your wet heat and wiping the mixed residue on the sheets.

“I never wanted it to stop,” you whimpered at the empty feeling inside you.

“I know that's right,” he agreed with a chuckle, squeezing your hand one final time before letting it go. You gazed up at him sheepishly, your hands reaching out to grab his forearms, letting your hands feel the warmth of his skin.

He hoisted your hips upwards, wrapping your thighs around his waist before leaning forward, his palm cupping your cheek before slotting his mouth against yours. Your eyes fell closed as you lost yourself in the kiss, unaware as his hips shifted forward.

With one hand around his cock, he pumped it generously, coating his dick in precum as he guided it toward your entrance.

“Big inhale for me, darlin’,” he requested one final time. You did as you were told, breathing in a large gulp of air before you felt something catch against your rim and push inside, filling you inch by inch as the air caught in your throat.

“And out,” he grunted, pushing his cock to the hilt, forcing himself deep inside, cursing as you clamped around him. He swore he'd felt traps looser than this.

Your exhale was probably closer to a sob. You've never felt so full in your whole life. Although the stretch wasn't nearly as painful as you imagined it would be. There was just so much pressure.

“You're doing good, fuck, just keep breathing.” he panted, barely even able to pull back with how tight you were clutching him. You nodded when trying to focus on his words as his cock throbbed inside of you.

“Good?” he grunted, his face twisted into something akin to pain, his heavy brows pulled forward, his face creasing as his eyes threatened to squeeze shut despite his resistance to keep them open. He sucked on his lower lip, struggling to concentrate as your wet heat pulsed around him.

“It feels… full.”

He groaned in response, thrusting up into you until his pretty cock punched against that spongy spot, causing you to kean, your body squirming, unsure if it wanted to pull away or chase the feeling.

“It's too much,” you whimpered, your hands pushing against his abdomen before he took your wrists in one hand, forcing them above your head as he rocked against you, fucking his cock in and out in slow yet deep thrusts.

“Take it,” he practically growled, his warm gaze turning cold as he towered above you, one hand enclosing around your hip as leverage, manipulating your body up and down in time with his thrusts.

“God, fucking take it,” he accentuated each word with a powerful shove, your skin slapping loudly each time they met. You couldn't even use anything to stabilize yourself, his fist wrapped firmly around your hands, holding them down with ease.

You were forced to take the onslaught of pleasure, tears welling up in your eyes as you cried out with movement, each jamming of his cock against your sore, sensitive pussy.

“Arthur!” you sobbed, your body squirming desperately underneath him, attempting to run away from his battering hips that grew faster with each minute that passed.

“Yeah, say my name,” he moaned, his eyes falling shut as his lips parted, deep pants escaping his chest with every movement. “Go on, say it again,” he reopened his eyes, glaring down at you with a look of something fierce.

“Arthur!” You moaned, pleading with your eyes for him to slow down. He smiled wide, letting go of your wrists, urging you to wrap your arms around his shoulders as he leaned in close, chest to chest.

“Am I being too rough?” he teased, pecking your lips tenderly as he slowed to a softer grind, allowing you a bit of grace.

“It's okay,” you panted, nails digging into the hard muscles of his back, closing your eyes in bliss as his thick cock ruined you for anyone else. “You can go faster… if you want,” you gripped him by his arms, burying your face in his neck, shyly kissing the expanse of his throat.

He let out another deep groan, his hand resting behind your head, pulling you closer as his other curled into the sheets below you, fucking up into you at a steady pace. You held onto him tightly, knowing you wouldn't last much longer.

“It's coming again,” you warned, your voice high-pitched and airy as you struggled to breathe, feeling as though he was fucking into your lungs.

Arthur leaned upwards, letting you fall back onto the bed as he took hold of your waist, his unoccupied thumb pressed down against your clit, rubbing fast circles as he urged you to finish.

“You’re almost there,” he grunted, watching as his cock reappeared before disappearing back inside you, the base coated in your milky arousal.

“You got it, c’mon,”

You reached behind you, fingers curling into the sheets below as you arched in his touch, gasping for air as the sweet pleasure built quicker, coming in faster and harder. “M’so close, Arthur.”

“Yeah, I know,” he cursed, fucking himself deeper, trying to get as much of himself inside as possible.

“I can feel you squeezin’ me,” whines began to escape his lips, sounds you never thought you'd hear him make.

“Does it feel good?” you asked, barely holding on as the thread threatened to break. You watched Arthur’s shoulders shake with what looked to be laughter, his thrusts stuttering before picking back up again.

“Yes,” he dipped his head to the side with a hiss, his thumb pressing harder against your delicate pearl. “Feels so fuckin’ good, sweetheart,”

Something about the nickname did it for you. It was said with affection and lust, smooth as silk and sweet as strawberry wine. Arthur’s voice was thick and rich, slipping into your ears and knocking around in your brain.

You came with his name on your tongue, crying to the heavens above, knowing that even if God has turned back on you now, at least you’ll suffer knowing you were loved in some way by someone. You felt his nose nuzzle into the side of your neck, his hips slowing into something almost romantic.

You felt him place a kiss on your shoulder, almost as a silent apology, before drawing back and slamming forward, fucking you so fast and so deep the frame of the headboard knocked against the wall over and over. You held onto him for dear life as he used you for his pleasure, groaning uncontrollably in your ear.

“Almost there, fuck,” he whimpered, his hold on you tightening to something almost painful before he pulled out swiftly, pumping his cock at an inhumane pace before shooting white ropes across your stomach. He came loudly, teetering near a shout. Every time you thought it was over, more and more kept coming out, eventually spilling onto his hand and running down his length.

He glanced down at the cross, rising and falling with every movement of your chest. He smirked, holding it up in his clean hand, his thumb smoothing over the protruding patterns.

At least now he can say for certain where he’s truly going.

“C’mon, darlin, let's get you cleaned up.”

main masterlist, rules

All For You ♡ Simon “Ghost” Riley

Kinktober Day VII: A/B/O Dynamics

summary: you go into heat; a strange alpha helps you tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, author loves omegaverse, alpha!ghost, scenting, claiming, low-key stalker!ghost, heats and ruts, slickaliciousness, possessive!ghost, omega!reader, dom!ghost, sub!reader, knotting, p in v, pet names, a bit of degradation, rough sex, praise wc: 2.7k a/n: every day i feel more and more like an omega fighting to survive in this world

MASTERLIST

Your skin was on fire. Well, not really, but it may as well have been. It felt like the air was being forcibly expelled from your lungs, carrying all the trapped, icy carbon from your chest. At that moment, it seemed as if the entire world had come to a standstill, with nothing but the erratic thudding of your heartbeat reverberating in your ears. You instinctively pressed your back against a towering tree's rough, textured bark, seeking solace and stability in its solid presence.

As your heart rate accelerates, a combination of fear and desire courses through your veins, sending shivers down your spine. Every last bit of air escapes your lungs as you struggle to breathe. You feel paralyzed, unable to move, but the scent of his presence fills your nose, heightening your senses and intensifying your emotions.

A man, an alpha, had somehow picked up on your scent and began hunting you down. You knew you shouldn’t have left the house but desperately needed your medicine. As you felt the air return to your body, taking in another deep inhale after almost a minute of nothing, you gasped when his scent grew stronger. It was a complex mixture of aromas - petrichor, leather, warmth, spice, smoke, and a hint of bitterness. Yet, hidden within was a soft essence, almost imperceptible unless you truly focused. It reminded you of the fragrance of wet, freshly cut grass or the distinct smell that lingers in the air right before it rains.

You didn't know where you were. You had been running before the sun had fully set, stretching its expanse of pastels across the world, and now the sky was a blanket of inky darkness. The last remnants of sunlight lingered on the horizon, casting long, eerie shadows across the landscape. The air was cool and carried the scent of damp earth. Only a few specks of stars were visible in the vast, velvety expanse above.

As you paused to catch your breath, a single tear escaped, its warmth cutting through the chill of the night. You knew you couldn't keep running. You knew he'd eventually catch you, one way or another. Alphas were always persistent. Although a part of you enjoyed the thrill of the chase, your omega purring happily as the sound of the Alpha’s footsteps grew nearer, his combat boots crushing the dead leaves and soft grass under its weight.

You had no choice but to surrender now. Exhausted and drained, you realized you had no strength to resist. As you sat down, you brought your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them, burying your face in the safety of your knees. You curled up into a tight ball, feeling the vulnerability of your position, and braced yourself for the inevitable encounter with your hunter.

His heavy footsteps echoed in your ears, each step reverberating in the silence until they came to a sudden halt just before you. A low, menacing growl escaped from deep within his chest, sending shivers down your spine and causing the hairs on your arms to stand on end. As fear gripped you, hot tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to overflow and betray your terror. They streamed down your cheeks, some lingering at the corners of your mouth before trailing down your quivering chin and seeping into your collar fabric, leaving a trail of salty dampness in their wake.

“Please!” You sobbed, but you didn't know what you were begging for: for him to let you go or for him to get on with it, take you now, and press you into the dirt as he had his way with you.

“None of tha’ now,” he said, almost soothingly, as he kneeled, gripping your arms and peeling them away from your body. Despite your struggle, he didn't have to use much force to manhandle you. He lifted your head, gripping your cheeks, causing your lips to pucker. You held onto his wrist, your nails sinking into his skin as you tried to pull away, but he didn't budge. He barely even seemed to notice.

His scent overpowered yours, causing the heat inside of your veins to set ablaze, your body yearning for his touch, his voice, his cock, his knot. You needed it. You needed it like you never needed anything else in your life.

“Open yer eyes for me, love,” His words flowed like smooth, aged whiskey, resonating with a deep, smoky richness further intensified by his distinctive Manchester accent.

You let out a low, plaintive whine in response, your body tensing in anticipation of what would come. You were acutely aware there would be no turning back if you opened your eyes. It was a daunting prospect, but deep down, you acknowledged that there was no escaping this situation. He held all the power, and you knew he was determined to have his way with you by any means necessary. Reluctantly, you braced yourself to listen to his demands, hoping that complying might mitigate his intentions. The last thing you wanted was to provoke his anger.

A low, guttural warning growl ripped through the air, sending a chill down your spine and causing you to freeze in terror. His fingers dug deeper into your cheeks, shaking you slightly from side to side as you struggled to keep your wits about you. Hesitantly, you peeled your eyes open, the world around you distorted by the blurriness of your tears. As your vision cleared, you could see his grip relaxing, the tension in his body ebbing as his growl subsided, reassured by your compliance.

“Good girl,” he complimented, his thumb rubbing over your lips before pushing into your mouth and running over your teeth, pressing against your tongue as he slipped it further and further into your mouth until he reached your throat.

“Ya’ gonna bite me?” he asked, the force of his intrusion causing you to gag. The instinct was strong. You wanted to bite him. You wanted to sink your teeth as far as they could go until you ripped his finger clean off.

You shook your head, your chest heaving with another sob. Tears blurred your vision, making it impossible to see anything. In front of you, all you could make out was a blurry, dark mass that you assumed was his chest, with his arm sticking out in front of your face.

“Sweet pet,” came his deep rumble before he slowly removed his finger from your mouth. He tilted your chin, swiping at the wet streaks cascading down your cheeks. “Ain’t gonna hurt ya’,” he promised as his fingers cleaned your eyes.

His words didn't inspire much trust in you; in fact, you didn't trust him at all. However, something about the way he spoke had a calming effect on you. As your sobs slowly subsided, you became aware of the subtle scent he was emitting. It seemed to have a soothing impact on you, almost coercing you into a state of tranquility.

“Jus’ wanna make ya’ feel good,” As your vision cleared, you began to take notice of his appearance. A black balaclava concealed his entire face, only showcasing his deep void of dark eyes, so brown they appeared black. The remainder of his physique was hidden by black tactical gear, the fabric expertly tailored to his form. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his muscular forearms, one of which was adorned with a striking array of tattoos. The intricate designs seemed to come alive as they wrapped around his arm, and the faint lines of veins snaked beneath the ink.

“Don’ be scared now,” he eased, his other hand curling around your ankle before yanking you towards him. Before your head could hit the ground, he slipped his other hand behind your head, pulling you into his chest and assaulting you with his powerful scent.

“Are ya’ goin’ to be good for me, pet?” His voice teetered on the edge of another growl, the warning evident in his voice. “I need to hear ya’ say it,” he leaned forward, nosing his face into your hair, breathing in your scent.

“I…” Your voice trembled as it emerged, barely audible and filled with unease. It struggled to carry much sound, reflecting the fear in your eyes again. You were apprehensive of the consequences of not meeting his demands, tears streaming down your cheeks, dreading his potential anger.

His laughter echoed through the room as he reached out to gently run his hand along your back, offering a comforting touch. "It seems like all that runnin’ and cryin’ has finally taken its toll on ya’, ay?” he chuckled darkly, still attempting to calm you down.

“I would say ya’ should've just given in, but,” he shifted to rest on his hindquarters, lowering his face close to yours, his hands resting on both sides of your head.

“Ya’ put up a fun chase,” he finished, his eyes boring into yours. His gaze flickered between your eyes as they narrowed. “But it's over now,”

His voice grew dark, and the smell of his desire burned through you before he began tearing off your clothes one by one until they were scattered all around you. You shivered against the night’s cool air, wrapping your arms around yourself. Despite the cold, your body was still burning aflame, feeling like the heat was rising from the inside.

“I know,” he shushed before flipping you over, his clothed chest pressing against your back as your hands clutched the earth, nails digging into the soil as your hair fell over your face. “I’ll warm ya’ up,” he said, gathering your hair into his fist before pulling it back into a makeshift ponytail.

“Don’ want yer pretty hair gettin’ dirty now, do we?” he rumbled, pressing his other hand against your lower back, arching your spine. You stared down, tears collecting into the dirt, causing splotches of dark brown to sink into the ground.

“Just relax,” he grunted from above you, his hand leaving your back as he undid his belt. The clinking of its metal had your pussy clenching around nothing, desire pooling into your belly as you whined out in frustration.

He hushed you again, tugging down his zipper before fishing out his cock. You could hear the distinct sound of him pumping himself, his heavy grunts growing louder as he pleasured himself. You whimpered, pushing your hips backward, wiggling them for good measure. Just get on with it, please. You wanted to cry out, beg him to fuck you nice and hard like you know he wants. It's what you both want.

“Stay still,” he commanded, tugging at your hair before landing a swift slap to your ass, the sound ringing out throughout the empty forest. You cried out at the painful sting, whimpering as he pressed his cock against your slicked folds. He gripped your hip, tugging you backward until his cock slipped inside, stretching your hole wide to fit him.

“Alpha!” you wailed, clawing at the strands of grass as he filled you to the brim. As all alphas were, you knew he'd be big, but you weren't expecting this. Just when you thought it was in, he kept pushing inch after inch, had your body trembling, your hole clamping down as he breached your entrance, molding your pussy into the shape of his cock.

“You can take it,” was all he said before his hips were pulling back until his tip was the only part left inside. You let out a sigh before it was cut off as he rammed his cock back in, his hips flush against yours. You let out a silent scream as he wasted no time in setting a brutal and unforgiving pace, battering his prick inside of you, balls slapping lewdly against your clit as his hand tugged your hair, lifting your head back and causing your spine to arch even deeper.

“You're mine,” he stated, like he had any ownership or claim over you. Yet you knew by the end of this, he would. His teeth would mark your skin, claiming you as his for the rest of your life.

“All. Fucking. Mine.” he punctuated each word with a brutal thrust of his hips, letting his words sink into your brain that there was no escaping him.

“I've waited for this,” he confessed as the knot at the base of his cock began to inflate, signaling what was to come – literally. “For so long,” he finished, yanking your head back each time it fell forward.

You stared at the night sky concealed by the leafy branches stretching outwards. His words ruminated inside your head, your cries only growing louder and louder as he fucked your smaller body, tits swaying back and forth with each punch of his cock inside you.

He's waited for this?

You didn't even know this guy, but apparently, he knew you. The thought alone sent another shiver down your spine. And yet you couldn't do anything about it.

You yelped as the hand in your hair reached forward, cupping your tit and squeezing softly before he was pulling you backward, lifting you until your back was pressed against his chest, his gear subtly digging into your skin.

With the sudden change of the angle, his cock was rutting deeper inside you hitting places you weren't aware even existed until now. You were practically screaming with how hard he was fucking you. His face nestled into your neck, his teeth swiping over your sensitive flesh as he groaned into your ear.

You let out a sob as you felt his knot catch against your entrance, not quit pushing in, but you knew it was coming. As soon as he spilled inside of you, his knot would push forward, sealing your fate once his teeth closed around your flesh.

You knew he was getting close, and so were you, your orgasm building quickly. With each forceful shove of his tip against the spongy spot inside of you, combined with his heavy hairy balls slapping against your pulsing clit, you weren't going to last much longer.

You squealed as his thick fingers closed around your nipples, pinching the sensitive flesh as saliva pooled in his mouth, dripping onto your shoulder before rolling down your chest.

“Good omega,” he groaned, his thrusts quickening into a lightspeed pace, your slick collecting against his thighs as they slapped against yours. The slippery sounds of your pussy being utterly destroyed by the alpha’s thick length ramming inside you filled the peaceful silence of the night, combined with the animalistic noises escaping from both of your lips.

“Alpha!” you cried out, your voice hoarse from your screaming as you came around him. Your orgasm shot through your body without warning, spraying the ground beneath you and coating the alpha’s lower body.

With a deep shout from behind you, the alpha ripped his hands from your chest, latching onto your wrists before you fell forward. He folded your arms together behind your back, using one hand to pull you back onto his cock, watching with glee as your pussy gaped wide around him, your cum coating the base of his cock in a white ring of slick.

His other hand latched onto your waist, digging his nails into your soft skin as he neared his release. He lowered his head, his forehead coming in contact with the sweaty skin of your upper back, strings of hair sticking to your dewy skin.

“Fuck m’close!” he growled, his jaw stretching wide, teeth scraping against your skin, threatening to puncture as his thrusts shortened close to grinds, not wanting to spend another second out of your sweet pussy. He could smell your slick seeping out of you in waves. He could practically taste it.

A deep growl emanated from his chest, his teeth finally sinking into your delicate flesh as his hips pushed forward, his knot slipping inside and locking your joined bodies in place as he spilled his cum inside of you. He couldn't stop himself from grinding his cock, whining at the sensitivity as he kept rutting forward, filling your velvety walls with buckets of his spunk.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head at your high-pitched moan, a mix of sweet pain and pleasure as his teeth sunk deeper, shaking his head for good measure.

As your breathing began to slow, he pulled his teeth from your neck, ripping another cry of pain from your lips. He tried to feel bad but could only feel pride swell in his chest as he stared down at you. You were finally his after all this time. You were his.

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Living Legend 𝜗ৎ König

Kinktober Day VIII: Belly Bulge

summary: sugar daddy könig gives you the best fuck of your entire life tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, author tries really hard at accents, p in v, rough fucking, dom!könig, sub!reader, a little toxicity, fingering, cunnilingus, pet names, sugardaddy!könig, age gap, old weird man!könig wc: 3k a/n: i know people usually write this guy as submissive but i lowkey think he’d be kinda mean

MASTERLIST

As you approached the door, the evening air turned brisk, and a sudden gust of chilly wind tousled your carefully styled hair. You raised your hand and knocked three times, feeling the resistance of the wood beneath your knuckles before stepping back. Standing motionless, you hugged your sweater tightly around your body, trying to shield yourself from the biting cold.

Standing in front of the apartment, you could hear distinct noises from within. Heavy, deliberate footsteps reverberated through the door, accompanied by German cursing muffled behind the barrier separating you and the inside.

The distinct sound of metal locks clicking undone reverberated through the hallway, signaling the impending opening of the door. As the door swung open, it revealed an older man with shaggy auburn locks that fell untamed around his weathered face. His piercing, icy blue eyes seemed to bore into you with a sense of scrutiny and intensity. Thin, tightly pressed lips adorned his face, and a noticeable scar ran up and down from the corner of his mouth, adding an enigmatic aura to his rugged appearance.

“Süße, you are here.” He announced, having to bend forward, hunching his shoulders and ducking his head to seem less intimidating. He shot you a shy smile before ushering you inside.

Upon entering, you were greeted by a spacious yet cozy apartment that exuded an air of minimalistic comfort. The dim lighting accentuated the wooden furniture and the walls adorned with memorabilia from König's military service, each item telling its own story. He guided you towards the plush couch in the living room, his large hands gently grazing your waist. As you settled onto the soft cushions, he moved towards the bar, pouring two glasses of amber liquid from a decanter. The clinking sound of ice cubes echoed through the room as he prepared your drink. His movements were precise, almost mechanical, reminiscent of a well-oiled machine honed by years of experience.

Turning back to face you, he extended one of the glasses, his broad frame casting a long shadow on the floor. "Here, zis vill help us both relax," he said gently, the harshness of his German accent softened by his attempt at tenderness. He sat next to you, close enough to feel his body heat radiating through the air but not too close as to invade your personal space. His gaze lingered on your face for a moment before he took a sip of his drink, studying your features intently.

Breaking the silence, he asked, "How vas your day, Süße?" His voice rumbled like distant thunder, yet carried a hint of concern.

That wasn't your name, but you figured it must've been some German pet name, not that you minded. You noticed that, despite his slightly unusual accent, there was something oddly captivating about it, especially when paired with the distinct sharpness of his voice.

You found yourself lost in thought as you peered into the crystal-clear glass, mesmerized by how the ice cubes slowly dissolved into the rich, golden-brown liquid. Raising the glass to your lips, you savored the aroma before taking a slow, deliberate sip. The warmth of the drink spreads through your body, leaving a lingering sensation on your palate. You paused to appreciate the complex flavors dancing on your tongue before gently licking the remnants from the corner of your mouth.

“It wasn't too bad,” you answered after swallowing, peering up into Königs unblinking gaze. “I was looking forward to seeing you,” you smiled, resting your hand on his knee.

You had met König on several occasions but never in the privacy of his home. It seemed that he was somewhat of a traditionalist, always insisting on properly courting you before taking you back to his place, not that you minded, of course. König had always been extremely generous when spoiling you constantly, taking you to fancy restaurants, and spending as much as your little heart desired as you dragged him through shopping malls.

He never once complained; if anything, he enjoyed emptying his wallets for you. He seemed lonely, and you had no problem filling that empty void in his chest.

König smiled warmly as he set his drink aside and swiftly pulled you closer, enveloping you in his large, protective embrace. His hand trailed up your spine, tracing the delicate curve of your back while his thumb absently rubbed small circles on your shoulder. As your head settled on his chest, you listened to the steady rhythm of his breathing. "Ich auch," he said. His breath tickled the crown of your head as he spoke, "Let us enjoy the rest of the evening together, hmm?"

You giggled softly, already aware of where this was going. You leaned back, your hands resting on his pectorals, letting your eyes flicker over his face before resting on his lips. You closed the distance, curling your fists in his shirt as you pressed your lips against his.

Responding to your kiss, König slid one hand behind your head, gently tangling his fingers in your hair and pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. You could taste the whiskey on his lips, feel the heat of his body seeping into yours, and hear the quickening of his heartbeat against his chest. He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged. "Come," he growled, guiding you towards the bedroom.

You were taken aback, letting out a surprised squeak as he firmly grasped your wrist and guided you upwards and onto your feet. Your eyes were drawn to the defined contours of his back, the fabric of his shirt stretching over the taut muscles, emphasizing their strength as he led you forward.

König's stride was confident and purposeful as he led you to his bedroom. You found his assertiveness rather appealing. Despite slight hesitation, you couldn't deny the anticipation building up inside you as you approached his room.

Once inside, König released your hand, allowing you to take in his space, decorated with military memorabilia and personal touches that hinted at the life he had left behind in Germany. You couldn't help but feel a surge of desire coursing through your veins, heightened by the passion in his eyes.

In his mind, he was reclaiming some form of control, something he never had during his tumultuous childhood. He wanted to be the one who decided when and how things progressed, especially in moments like these.

He moved towards the bedside table and dimmed the lights, casting long shadows across the room. He turned to face you, his eyes locked onto yours and started unbuttoning his shirt. His movements were calculated, each button released revealing another inch of his hardened physique, etched with years of battle scars and intricate tattoos - silent testimonies of his past. He watched as your gaze trailed over him, savoring your reactions. As the final button popped free, König tossed the shirt aside and reached for you, his calloused hands tracing your arms before he pulled you in for another deep kiss.

As the kiss intensified, König began undressing you, revealing your delicate curves underneath the stylish attire he had bought you. His touch was tender and demanding, a testament to his complex character. He broke away from the kiss momentarily to admire your body, his gaze burning with lust and appreciation.

His icy blues, which usually held a calm, collected gaze, now smoldered with desire. With one hand still firmly gripping your waist, he traced the curve of your jawline with the other, leaning in for another passionate kiss. His scarred face and rugged features seemed intimidating and alluring in the dimly lit room.

He reached out, unbuttoning your blouse deftly, exposing the delicate lace of your bra. His fingers traced its edge before slowly sliding it off your shoulders, allowing the garment to fall away, revealing your breasts.

“Perfekt," he whispered hoarsely, his gaze filled with raw need. He lowered his head, capturing one nipple between his lips, teasing it with his tongue and teeth. He reveled how your breath hitched, your body arching against his touch. His thumb gently rubbed circles around the other nipple, savoring the feel of it hardening under his rough skin. All the while, his free hand roamed down your waist, pulling at your skirt, eager to discover what lay beneath. His mind raced, but he reminded himself to be patient, to savor each moment, as he slowly unzipped it and let it pool at your feet, revealing the matching lace underwear.

As König's tongue danced with yours, his hands roamed lower, deftly curling his fingers into the seam of your panties and pulling it down your hips before you grasped onto his shoulders as you stepped out, letting him further slide it down your legs.

Once you were utterly bare before him, he looked up, meeting your eyes with a smoldering intensity. “Lay down," he commanded softly, guiding you towards the bed. His voice was deep and husky, a clear sign of his arousal. He wanted to taste every inch of you to claim you completely.

You felt excited as his hands roamed over your body, lingering on your skin's smoothness and warmth. He could feel your heartbeat quicken under his fingertips. He gently pushed you backward onto the bed, his own body following suit. His weight pressing into you created a sense of security and dominance.

He kissed along your collarbone, feeling goosebumps rise at his touch. He was lost in the moment, letting the thrill of intimacy momentarily silence his overactive mind. His rough hands tenderly cupped your breasts while his tongue teased your sensitive nipples, eliciting gasps from you. "Ich will dich spüren..." he breathed as he continued his exploration, his mouth traveling further down your torso.

He briefly paused, admiring the sight of you in the dim light, the play of shadows across your skin, the curves that drove him wild before diving between your thighs.

With a fervent hunger, König pressed his lips to the inside of your thigh, trailing gentle kisses upward across the soft expanse of your naked skin. The warmth radiating from him ignited an inferno inside you. As he reached your core, he took a moment to appreciate its beauty, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. He leaned in, capturing your clitoris with his mouth, sucking and teasing it gently. Your cries grew louder as he continued, his tongue swirling around the delicate bud while his fingers slid inside you, stroking your slick walls.

He curled his thick digits, reaching for the specific spongy spot hidden inside your slippery pussy, pulsing around his fingers as you sucked him in, welcoming the pleasure he was bestowing upon you.

“Fuck, König,” you whimpered, tangling your fingers in his thick locks, tugging him closer as you lifted your pussy further towards his greedy mouth.

His mind raced with thoughts of pleasuring you, of giving you a release that would make you forget everything else. He increased the tempo, feeling your body tense underneath him, signaling your impending climax. His hands moved to your hips, holding you firmly in place as he continued his relentless assault.

He reveled in the power he held, the ability to give you such pleasure, even as he craved to claim you fully.

When you finally came apart, your orgasm flooding into his mouth, he felt a surge of satisfaction, a reminder of his ability to connect with someone on this raw, primal level despite the transactional nature of your relationship.

He lapped up your essence, drinking up every drop that spilled into his awaiting mouth. He pulled his fingers from your pussy, stretching them in a scissoring motion and watching with delight as the strings held together before tearing apart. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his arm, staring down at you as he stood up from his knees.

Giving you a moment to catch your breath, he began tugging against his belt, undoing it from its loops as it dangled, its noise signaling what was to come. As he pulled his pants down his legs along with his briefs, your mouth gaped at the monstrous thing between his legs.

The sight of his erection only served to heighten your arousal, and he couldn't wait to be inside you. He reached into his nightstand drawer, retrieving a condom with practiced ease, rolling it on as he returned his gaze to your flushed face. "Are you ready for me?" he asked, his voice thick with desire.

You nodded your head slowly as you watched, swallowing at the intimidating sight that hung between his thighs.

He slid up your body, his hands roaming possessively over your curves as he settled his weight over you. His hard length pressed against your thigh, leaving no doubt about his desire. He looked down at you, his expression one of raw hunger. He whispered your name, his eyes hooded with something akin to carnality swimming in the depths of his eyes. "You’re mine tonight."

His pale eyes locked onto yours as he positioned himself at your entrance. With one hand, he guided himself, the tip of his cock pressing against your wetness. He could feel your heat radiating against him, causing his heart to race even faster. At that moment, König felt a rush of vulnerability. He was at the mercy of your response despite his size and strength.

He pushed forward slowly, allowing you to adjust to his girth. Your pussy stretched to accommodate him, and he couldn't hold back a low groan at the sensation and the high-pitched gasp that escaped from your lips. As he filled you halfway, he paused, savoring the connection.

“Wait!” you mewled, squirming beneath him as you latched onto his broad shoulders. “What’s wrong, my Schatz?” he panted, his hand resting against your cheek. His brows furrowed deeply as he waited for your response, resisting the urge to push his hips forward and split you on his cock.

“It's just–” you paused momentarily, struggling to catch your breath. “You’re really big,” you confessed, another whimper filling the confined space between you.

You cried as his hips rocked forward, his cock filling you to the brim; you feared he'd push far enough until he was poking out of your throat. He began to move, setting a rhythm that matched the pounding in his chest. When you looked down, you could see the visual outline of his cock pressing upwards, creating a bulge that protruded from your lower stomach.

“You can take it, ja?” he chuckled darkly. Each thrust was deliberate and decisive, a testament to his physical prowess. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride knowing that you desired him, that you craved this intimacy with him. He leaned forward, supporting himself with his elbows on either side of your head. The movement caused the muscles in his arms to flex, drawing your attention to his numerous tattoos. He captured your lips once more, his tongue mimicking the motion of his hips. The sensation was overwhelming, and König felt his control slipping away.

He pulled back slightly, watching as your stomach bulged with each deep penetration, a visual reminder of his dominance. "So tight..." he grunted, his accent heavy with pleasure. He reached between your bodies, pressing down where his cock pulsed beneath your skin. He smirked at your sweet wail, squirming and thrashing beneath him as he fucked harder until his heavy balls were slapping against your ass.

He dipped his fingers lower, finding your clit again, massaging it in time with his thrusts. The combination sent you spiraling toward another orgasm, your walls clenching around him, pulling him even deeper. König couldn't resist the urge to claim your neck, biting down gently as he pounded into you relentlessly. Your cries spurred him on, and he found himself chasing his release, losing himself in the moment's intensity.

He felt your nails digging into his back as you climaxed again, your body shuddering beneath him. He growled, his hips bucking wildly as he approached his release. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling back just enough to expose your neck, your pulse beating rapidly against his lips. He could feel his orgasm building, his muscles tensing with each thrust—the room filled with the sounds of skin slapping together and your moans of pleasure.

He closed his eyes, focusing on the sensations coursing through him. As he came, he buried himself inside you, letting out a primal roar that echoed off the walls. The force of his orgasm left him momentarily breathless, and he collapsed against your chest, his weight pinning you to the mattress. He remained there for a few seconds, panting heavily, before rolling off to the side. He sat upwards, removing the condom from his softening cock before tying it and tossing it into the bin.

Once he relaxed into the comfort of his bed, he pulled you close, his arm draped around your waist. He could feel your heart pounding against his chest, your breath hot against his neck. His mind was quiet, free from the constant analysis and evaluation that usually plagued him. He looked down at you, his expression softening.

He brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his eyes lingering on your flushed cheeks. "You're so beautiful," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. He didn't often express himself in such a vulnerable way, but now, he couldn't help it. As he pulled you closer, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your bare skin, he wondered what it would be like to permanently have someone like you by his side. Not just as a lover but as a confidante who understood him. Someone who could see past the scars and the rough exterior of the man beneath. Given his line of work, he knew it was unlikely, but the thought brought a small smile. For now, he would enjoy the present, the warmth of your body pressed against his.

He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Rest now, my little one," he whispered, his accent soothing in the quiet room. He pulled the covers over both of you, his arm still wrapped securely around you. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift into a peaceful sleep, feeling content in a way he hadn't in a very long time.

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In Love With a Hurricane ♡ Simon “Ghost” Riley

Kinktober Day XI: Uniform

summary: you and the hubby like to play dangerous tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, praise, dom!simon, sub!reader, clothed sex (except us), p in v, rough sex wc: 1.7k

MASTERLIST

“You sure this is what you want?” Simon asked one final time as he stood over you, arms crossed over his chest and his head tilted down at you.

Not Simon, you thought, your grin growing wider as you stared into the dark abyss of his eyes hidden behind the white skull mask.

Ghost.

“I’m sure,” you answered finally, leaning back on your hands against the plush mattress beneath you. You nervously fiddled with the soft sheets, pinching it between your fingers and rolling the smooth fabric between them.

You weren’t going to lie. You felt slightly intimidated as he loomed over you, his hands gripping his belt as he studied you. Silently, he crept forward, his boots softly thudding against the hardwood floor. He took your face in his gloved hands, thumb smoothing your bottom lip.

The texture felt different; the cool, smooth leather starkly contrasted his usual warm, callused hands. You blinked up at him, feeling a cold rush that caused tremors throughout your body. His eyes, once warm and comforting, had turned dark and piercing.

He tilted your chin higher as he leaned forward, letting out a thoughtful sigh as his eyes flickered back and forth between yours. His eyes narrowed, but only slightly. You noticed the distinct clenching and unclenching of his jaw before he pulled away. Even as he let go, you could still feel the soft buzzing sensation where his fingers used to be.

“Strip,” he commanded, jutting his chin outwards as he stepped away.

Simon’s gaze never left your face, his eyes staring intensely into yours even when you revealed your nude body.

It was as if he was searching for a hint of uncertainty, a sign that this wasn’t what you truly wanted.

He had seen you naked countless times before, and you had never felt as uncomfortable and exposed as you did then. It wasn’t just that he was fully clothed and that you were not. There was something about how he held himself and looked at you. You were used to him looking at you like you were a delicate, fragile creature. Now, he looked at you like an animal. Like prey.

You knew this was just an act. That the man standing before you was not Simon. This was Ghost. Yet you couldn’t help but wonder how much of the character was a part of him, if his feelings were genuine, or just a role.

You couldn’t help how your body reacted: goosebumps dotted your arms and chest, and a shiver ran up your spine.

It was as if you could see his pupils dilate through his mask.

Before you had a chance to cover yourself, he was on you, pushing you back onto the bed. The breath left your lungs as your back hit the soft mattress, and you were barely able to regain it before he was on top of you, pinning you down.

His hips ground into yours, his cock hard and hot against your stomach, straining against the black denim of his jeans. You could feel the heat radiating off of him as he pressed himself against you.

Your lips parted as he reached a hand between your legs, his fingers brushing lightly over the sensitive flesh. A soft sigh left your lips, and he leaned down, pressing his masked forehead against yours. A deep rumble rose from within him, vibrating through your body, making you quiver.

You wanted to reach out and pull him closer, but the look in his eyes told you not to. His eyes were still dark, and his gaze was fixed on yours, daring you to move.

Your hand dropped, and you dug your nails into the mattress. Your eyes fluttered closed as he dipped his fingers inside you, and your mouth fell open.

A soft gasp escaped your lips, and your toes curled as you felt his finger brush over the most sensitive part of your body. Your back arched as he pushed his finger deeper, curling and uncurling it inside of you.

You could feel the heat in the pit of your stomach intensify, and you moaned softly, tilting your head back. Your hips bucked as he added another finger, and you squeezed your eyes shut as the sensations threatened to overwhelm you.

His hand left your thigh and moved to your neck, the leather-covered palm pressing lightly into the hollow of your throat.

You felt your cheeks grow hot, and you opened your eyes to see the familiar black eyes staring down at you, filled with hunger and lust.

You squirmed under his grip, but his other hand quickly found your waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh there, holding you in place. You moaned, and he chuckled, low and deep. And as you whimpered, his lips pulled back into a smirk.

He continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, his thumb tracing circles on your clit, his hand moving faster and faster. Your thighs trembled as you came, a choked cry escaping your lips as he brought you to your release.

You collapsed against the mattress, gasping for air, your heart hammering in your chest. Your eyes darted back and forth between his, and his grin grew wider.

His voice was low and gruff. "Yer so fuckin’ perfect, y’know that?"

Your body was buzzing with electricity, and the words escaped your lips before you could stop them.

"Please," you gasped, "I need more." You pleaded, your eyes welling with tears.

Ghost's chest heaved as he watched you come undone beneath him, a primal satisfaction surging through him. He removed his fingers from your trembling body, leaving you momentarily bereft.

The sight of you begging for more only fueled his desire further. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, his accent thickening with lust. His eyes roamed over your exposed form, taking in every detail as if committing it to memory.

His gaze never left yours as he lowered his body onto the bed, the weight of his gear pinning you in place. He undid his belt, pulling himself out as he positioned himself between your legs, his fingers tracing up your thighs, rough and scarred hands caressing your soft and supple skin.

He leaned in, the cold metal of his mask brushing against your flushed cheek, causing you to let out an airy whine. He whispered into your ear, his voice gravelly with desire, "Brace yerself, love." Then, without further warning, he thrust into you, eliciting a sharp gasp. He paused momentarily, allowing you to adjust to his size before resuming his rhythm, each stroke measured and precise, like the execution of a well-planned mission.

He tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you closer as he continued to drive into you—the room filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and the soft slap of skin on skin.

Ghost's movements became more urgent, his thrusts deeper and harder, his uniform digging into the softness of your thighs. You could feel your pussy clenching around him as you writhed underneath him, your nails clawing at his back through the thick material of his tactical vest.

Ghost's hips moved with a steady, relentless rhythm; each thrust punctuating the silence with a soft growl that reverberated in the back of his throat. You savored the sensation of him being inside you, the heaviness of his cock splitting you open, followed by the pressing of his tip against your cervix.

"Is this what ya’ wanted?" he asked his voice barely above a whisper, a hint of challenge lacing his tone. His fingers dug into your flesh, pulling you even closer as if trying to merge your bodies completely.

With a fervent growl, Ghost increased his pace, your body responding in kind. Each movement became a symphony of desire, the friction between you building a crescendo that threatened to consume you whole.

"Come for me again." His voice was rough, betraying the tight control he maintained over himself.

You could feel the familiar pressure building inside you once his thumb found your clit, rubbing in small, deliberate circles as he continued his relentless rhythm. The sensation sent a jolt through your body, causing your hips to buck against his, your moans becoming louder and more desperate. Ghost's breath caught in his throat at the sight, his release drawing near.

"That's it," he urged, his fingers working in tandem with his hips, pushing you closer to the edge.

Ghost's eyes narrowed, watching your reactions intently as he pushed you higher. The sensation of you clamping down on him was almost too much to bear, but he held on, determined to give you what you needed. His thumb pressed firmer against your clit, teasing and stroking in time with his relentless thrusts.

"Let go. Give it to me," he commanded, his voice barely recognizable through gritted teeth. He could feel your body tense beneath him, every muscle coiled tight as you teetered on the edge. When your orgasm finally hit, your eyes squeezed shut, broken whimpers spilling from your lips as you trembled in his arms. Ghost allowed himself to follow suit, his release tearing through with a ferocity that surprised him.

He buried his face in your neck, his breaths ragged and hot yet somewhat filtered by his balaclava. As he rode out the waves of pleasure that wracked his body, you quivered in ecstasy beneath him.

Ghost couldn't help but feel a surge of possessiveness. He held you close; his hand splayed across your lower back, his thumb still circling lazily around your sensitive clit as he savored the feeling of you coming apart.

Ghost slowly pulled out, your combined heavy breaths echoing through the otherwise silent room. He discarded his mask, revealing a look of raw passion and concern etched on his rugged yet handsome face.

His fingers trailed up your body, brushing aside damp strands of hair that clung to your forehead. He leaned in to plant a tender kiss on your lips, tasting the salt of perspiration and feeling the rapid beat of your heart against his chest. "Ya’ alright?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.

You nodded, a dopey grin stretching over your face as your eyes peeled open, assessing him through your bleary and cloudy vision.

“Good,” he grunted, his voice once again losing its once warm and soft tone.

“Because I’m not done wit’ ya’ yet.”

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Let Me Love You Just a Little Longer 𝜗ৎ König

Kinktober Day XII: Overstimulation

summary: könig loves to eat pussy a little too much tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, overstimulation, praise, dom!könig, sub!reader wc: 1.7k

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“Again?” You whined, lifting your head upwards, looking down at the mammoth of a man between your legs. König’s mouth twitched into a grin as your juices dropped from his chin, his stubble soaked in your wetness.

Your chest rose and fell with each deep breath, your brow dripping with sweat, and your hands clammy, still curled in his auburn locks.

König chuckled lightly before repositioning his broad frame, settling himself between your thighs once again. His rough stubble grazed your sensitive skin, eliciting a shuddering moan from you as König’s tongue dove back into your wet folds. With a calculated precision that spoke of experience, he traced circles around your swollen nub, savoring every gasp, moan, and buck of your hips. The taste of you drove him wild, but it wasn’t just physical; it was the power he felt, the connection forged between you two in those moments of pure, unbridled pleasure.

His thick fingers slipped inside, curling as he sought out that particular spot while his tongue continued its merciless assault. König loved making you squirm beneath him; the sight of your body writhing in ecstasy was almost too much for him to bear.

“Ve can take a break if you need it,” he said between breaths, his voice husky and heavy with arousal. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched your body tremble with anticipation, wiping away a bead of sweat trickling down his temple with the back of his hand.

Despite the offer, König didn’t wait for your answer before diving back in, eager to taste you again. He knew how much you enjoyed his attention and found satisfaction in bringing you such intense pleasure. His tongue worked tirelessly, dancing over your sensitive bud as his fingers moved inside you with purposeful strokes. He reveled in the sounds you made, the way your body reacted to his every touch. It was a symphony of desire, and König was its conductor.

"Mmm...so sweet," he rumbled approvingly, his voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh, causing another wave of pleasure to roll through you. He lapped up your arousal with relish, his tongue flicking against your clit with expert precision. His large hands held your thighs firmly apart, keeping you open for his ministrations.

König felt his arousal growing stronger with every passing moment. Despite his size and intimidating exterior, König treated you with surprising gentleness, as if handling something delicate and precious. His calloused fingers slid over your skin with reverence, exploring every curve and dip of your body. The contrast between his rough exterior and tender touch was enthralling, making each stroke feel like a discovery.

He continued to work you over, his pace increasing as your moans became louder and more desperate. With his free hand, he reached up to massage your breast, teasing the nipple between his thumb and forefinger until it was taut and sensitive. König's eyes stayed locked on your face, reading every expression, every twitch of your lips, every squeeze of your eyelids, adjusting his movements accordingly. He was determined to push you to the edge again, to make you come undone beneath his touch.

"Vhat do you vant?" he asked huskily, his breath hot against your wetness as he spoke your name.

"More?" His fingers curled deeper inside you, pressing hard against your G-spot as his tongue circled your clit faster. "Or vould you like something else?" He raised an eyebrow, leaving the question open-ended, inviting you to share your deepest desires.

Your fingers dug into his scalp as your thighs tense around his head, threatening to squeeze. “Don’t stop!” You sobbed, tugging him closer by his hair.

Chuckling deeply, König obliged your request, his tongue swirling around your clit with increased fervor as his fingers thrust deeper. His arousal surged at the sound of your desperation, the raw need in your voice. He marveled at how your body responded to his touch.

His movements became more deliberate, focused entirely on sending you spiraling over the edge. He could feel your muscles contracting around his fingers, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

"Very veil, my Liebling," he rumbled, his voice low and rough with desire. His tongue flicked and teased your clit relentlessly, his fingers pumping in a steady rhythm. He could sense you were close, your entire body trembling beneath him.

The sensations were overwhelming, and König grew harder with each passing moment. He loved being the one to bring you such intense pleasure, the one who knew exactly what buttons to press to send you flying. It was a power he didn’t take lightly, a responsibility he cherished. As you neared your climax, he slowed his pace ever so slightly, drawing it out, savoring the exquisite torture.

When you finally broke, your scream echoing through the room, König couldn’t help but smile triumphantly. He lapped every drop of your release, relishing the taste, before finally pulling away. "That vas beautiful," he murmured, planting a gentle kiss on the inside of your thigh before moving back up to claim your mouth in a passionate kiss.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he gazed down at you with hooded eyes. His breaths were heavy, and his heart raced in his chest, his body still buzzing with the residual energy of your pleasure. König shifted his weight onto his elbow, freeing up his other hand to trace lazy patterns on his stomach. He watched as his body slowly relaxed beneath him.

"Vould you like more?" He asked, his German accent thick with desire.

You threw your arm over your eyes, feeling a sense of embarrassment wash over you. “Just go slow,” you whispered, your hand brushing over his.

Nodding, König pressed a tender kiss to your thigh before resuming his exploration, this time at a gentler pace. He understood the delicate balance between pleasure and pain during those sensitive moments after an intense orgasm, and he had no intention of causing you discomfort. Instead, he focused on soothing you with soft licks and nibbles, teasing your folds open with his tongue and occasionally dipping inside you to taste your wetness, feeling your body quiver beneath him.

His fingers trailed up your body, stopping to play with your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. König's eyes never left your face, studying your every reaction, searching for signs of what you wanted next.

"Like zis?" he asked softly, his voice thick with arousal. He blew cool air on your sensitive clit before swiping his tongue across it once more, eliciting a shudder from you. As you nodded, he continued his ministrations, taking his time to savor every inch of you. König's desire grew with each passing second, but he pushed it aside, determined to make this moment about you.

You nodded, your hands perched on his shoulders, squeezing gently before running lines down his back.

Humming in approval, König felt your hands on his back, the pressure grounding him further. He continued to pleasure you, his tongue tracing circles around your clit while his fingers slid in and out of you at a languid pace. Each stroke was calculated and designed to draw out your pleasure without pushing you too far too soon.

His thumb began to rub your clit in slow, steady circles as he increased the speed of his fingers, watching as your breath caught in your throat. Your movements grew more restless, your hips rocking against his face as you chased after another orgasm. König's own need simmered below the surface, his cock throbbing with every moan that escaped your lips. Yet he remained steadfast in his mission, focusing solely on the task.

"You're so vet," he praised, his words muffled against your skin. He loved how you reacted to his touch and how your body moved with his rhythm. It was a dance they'd perfected over time, and he reveled in the intimacy of it all. As your breaths grew ragged and your body tensed, König knew you were close once more. He doubled his efforts, wanting to send you flying again before he allowed himself to finish.

Feeling the tension build within you, König's eyes sparkled with determination. He curled his fingers slightly, hitting that spot he knew drove you wild while his tongue flicked rapidly across your clit. Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer as your legs trembled around his head. He could sense you were on the precipice, ready to fall into another wave of ecstasy. His arousal pulsed in response, his hips pushing rapidly against the soft mattress as he neared his climax. He increased the pressure on your clit, relishing in the feel of your wetness coating his tongue.

"Come for me," he growled, his voice deep and commanding. The words seemed to act as a trigger, sending you hurtling over the edge. König grinned against your skin as your body shook with release, drinking in your pleasure greedily. He let out a whimper as the taste of you flooded his tongue, grinding his cock against the sheets one final time and letting out a loud groan muffled by your pussy.

As your spasms subsided, he gently pulled away, licking his lips clean before crawling up to lay beside you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close as he admired your flushed features. You glanced down at the wet spot at the front of his pants, chuckling to yourself as you glanced back up at him.

“Did you just cum from eating me out?”

Grinning, König wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a smear of arousal glinting in the dim light. He looked down at the damp patch on his trousers and then back at you, his gaze filled with warmth.

"Ja, it happens sometimes," he admitted, gravelly voice laced with amusement. His thumb traced idle circles on your hip as he savored the feel of you pressed against him. Your laughter was music to his ears, a sweet sound that never failed to comfort him.

"You taste so good," he murmured, his eyes dropping to your lips, swollen from earlier kisses. He leaned forward, capturing your mouth in a lazy kiss, his tongue seeking yours as he let his hand drift down to cup your breast. His thumb circled your nipple, drawing another sigh from you.

You blushed at the sound of König undoing his belt, pulling out his half-hard cock. He lifted your thighs to wrap around his broad waist before tugging you forward.

“I hope you are still ready for more, ja?”

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