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floydmtalbert · 2 years

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the taste of sunlight

Lou & Tab + “the taste of sunlight” requested by @shoshiwrites actual years ago, from goodness knows what prompt list. Me, procrastinate?

The wind was rising, scattering gravel across the parade ground and sending fat flakes of snow against the windows, moving with a low, mournful howl through the barracks. Louise lay dozing on her bunk, but the noise entered her dreams. A ship in a storm, sailors roaring orders at each other, drenched in rain and spray. The sails thrashed wildly in the wind, an incessant flapping and cracking. Then, as she surfaced through the layers of her sleep, the sound became what it was: the snow squall outside, and someone tapping at the door.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, huffing a sigh at the ache in her lower back, and pushed herself up. “Who is it?”

“Only the bravest and most handsome sergeant in the whole US Army.”

Floyd’s voice was unmistakeable even through the door, and a faint smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Hmm… not ringing a bell,” she called. “Who would that be, then?” After a pause: “Come in—the door’s not locked.”

He stepped inside, snow melting on his shoulders, a look of exaggerated reproach on his face. “You hurt my feelings when you say shit like that.”

“Good. You need taking down a peg or two.”

“Yeah, and you never miss a chance, do you?”

Louise laughed, and gestured to the chair opposite. “I try my best, anyway.”

Floyd shook his head, but grinned. “So,” he said, giving a little look around the room, drab and spartan but for the portable stove with the mess tin for coffee, and the photos she’d cut from magazines and pinned by her bed, “this is where they put you, huh?”

“Mmm.”

“Not bad.” He turned back to her. “You’re okay? I ain’t really seen you since we got here.”

“I’ve been playing truant,” she said without a hint of shame. “It’s surprising, I know, but I didn’t much fancy doing parade drill in the snow, or digging slit trenches, or… painting boulders, or whatever Dike’s got you doing—”

“No, that’s about right.”

“—so I told him I had Sink’s permission to attend to my urgent, top-secret matters, gave him my apologies, et cetera—” she waved a hand— “and I’ve had the last few days to myself.”

“Louise, I’m shocked.”

She fixed him with a look. “The man could have checked with Sink. It was a rather flimsy lie, after all. But God forbid he actually do his job.”

“Uh huh,” Floyd said, starting to smile. “So it’s his fault?”

“I think it must be, yes.”

He laughed. “What’ve you done with all this leisure time?”

“Slept. Stared at the walls. Stared at the ceiling.”

“And to think you get paid for this…” At her shrug, he frowned. “Let me guess. The Mourmelon Blues?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, maybe I can cheer you up.”

As he began to unzip his jacket, she reeled back in mock disbelief and raised her eyebrows. “Steady on, Tab.”

“Oh, grow up,” he retorted, in a fair impression of Louise herself, and tried to conceal a grin as she descended into laughter. With a flourish, he pulled an orange from his pocket and offered it to her.

All pretence gone, she gasped and bolted to the edge of the bed, and took the fruit from him. It seemed like an alien object, its colour impossibly vivid amongst the olive-greens and browns of her shabby little room. “An orange…” she breathed. “How did you get it?”

“Never mind that.”

Holding it almost reverently in her hands, she touched her nose to the peel and inhaled, the smell both sharp and sweet, a reminder of childhood Christmases, and that first week in DC when she and Millie went out and bought oranges and canned peaches and chocolates, all the things they had missed, and spent half the night being sick but, giggling weakly on the bathroom floor, declaring it was worth it.

Floyd dipped his head slightly to catch her eye. “Is it okay?”

She glanced up and simply beamed, taking in the sight of him: his cheeks still pink from the cold, a smattering of freckles across his nose, the last remnants of a long-ago summer. His eyes watching her closely, a little hesitantly.

“Of course,” she said, and touched his cheek, a light brush of her fingertips. “You have cheered me up.”

“Well…” Somewhere between pleased and embarrassed, he smiled, the colour in his face deepening in a blush. “There we are, then.”

Louise turned the orange over in her hands and, at Floyd’s nod, began to peel it, taking the skin off in one long spiral, her fingers growing sticky, and her eyes bright with such excitement that he had to laugh. Beyond the window, in the dark winter night, the wind roared on; snow fell to the ground and was flung away in an instant, leaving behind glistening sheets of ice, building up in drifts against the barrack walls. Inside, the air was warm and scented with the tang of citrus.

She split the orange in two, counting the segments. “Oh,” she said, “it’s an odd number. Look—five and four.”

“You have five.”

“Sure?”

“Sure.”

She held the first piece of orange briefly to her nose and then put it into her mouth; she bit down, breaking the fine translucent skin, and held it in her mouth like water, the juice running over her tongue, so deliciously sweet that she closed her eyes with the pleasure of it. A sunrise in her mouth.

A second piece of orange quickly followed the first, and then a third. Floyd leant back in the chair, propping one foot up on the cross stretcher, and, with a fond half-smile, watched her eating with a dreamy look on her face, humming in delight, catching drops of juice at the side of her mouth with the tip of her tongue.

Louise gently tore apart her last two pieces. “Oh! There is another piece—it was hiding.” She held it out to him, waving it teasingly. “Yours if you want it.”

Before he could stop himself, Floyd caught her wrist in one hand and took the piece of orange in his mouth. Juice ran down her fingers and over her palm; he flicked his tongue across her hand, tasting sugary citrus and the slight saltiness of her skin. Her lips were parted, half in surprise, half in laughter, and the colour was high in her cheeks, but he kept hold of her hand, lapping at a stray droplet sliding over the fine bones of her wrist, sucking the last of the juice from each finger in turn. He closed his mouth over her thumb and circled it with his tongue, licking it clean, and, slowly, gently, dragged his teeth upwards.

With the pad of her thumb still against his bottom lip, he hesitated, and met her eye. They were very still for a moment, their expressions serious; a sharp gust of wind made the light flicker. Then she leant forward and kissed him, a brief, chaste kiss, little more than the brush of lips and their noses pressing together.

She drew back, and let her hand fall to her lap, and offered him a small, soft smile. “Thank you,” she said, and knew that he understood.

Hours later, Louise lay in bed, the scent of the orange lingering on her hands and its taste still on her tongue. The noise of the blizzard outside entered her dreams. An orange grove, the sun warm on her shoulders and the breeze rippling her skirt. At the foot of the cliffs was the ocean, jewel-blue, the waves crashing along the shoreline and rushing up over the sand. The air was tangy with salt and ripening fruit and alive with promise, and there was time.

#[Shows up to this ''writing sideblog'' with actual writing two years late]#Anyway I missed these two and I missed writing them!#And I'm proud that I filled a prompt admittedly VERY late but with minimal agonising over every word and detail #I am learning that not everything has to be perfect #Okay anyway #Fic: Light Amongst The Ruins #OC: Louise Johnson #C: Floyd Talbert #Writing stuff #My writing #(Need a better writing tag; suggestions welcome)

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 3 months

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he is just. so shaped. so so so So shaped.

#im Attempting some new tactics #it doesnt really show! but i am!#starting to fuck around w/ watercolor brushes...#holding him up like a little bee and saying I Just Think He's Neat!#< i jest! i think much much more about him #that i cannot share without devolving into an incoherent mess!#so. i just think he's neat :]c #scribble salad #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #frank frankly #im also trying... to do... (dramatic thunderclap) BACKGROUNDS #i know i know. very scary. they're still very messy #but... i like objects? i like Things? i like to look at a page and see put together clutter!#maximalism babey!#which is deadly when you're an artist methinks. but. whats one more agony added onto the rest!#it will be a while until i figure out how to Accomplish that put-together clutter....#im still bad at colors! im trying to swim before i can walk! Yikes!

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sillywillylittleguy · 4 months

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>:3

#I AM EVIL!!!#:3 #>:3 #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home arg #>:p #>:c #>:d #>:3c

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bunnygirlheart · 5 months

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next time i load up the rraria i need 2 make eye arena mm.. alsooo should maybe summon n kill king slime. can probably manage that no problem now. wasnt ready when i got a slime rain earlier unfortunately but now im relatively geared up for this point i think

#eye showed up 2 kill me 2night but it was decently close c:#playin calamity revengeance summoner. got my wulfrum armor my snapthorn and my belladonna spirits. still workin on health #oh and it just occurred 2 me i didnt summon my squirrel for that first attempt at eye .. should do that next time #current accessories are .. wulfrum battery n rover drive.. some boots. a jump bottle. and feral claws.#oh yknow what i forgot abt the power armor also .. hows the fusion array compare 2 my snapthorn i wonder..#if u read this ur welcome 2 suggest some cool items i should go find :3 #im havin fun!#oh fun fact i decided id try summoner because i was exploring the underground desert blindly n a stormjaw staff dropped #n that was by far my best weapon at that point

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jyoongim · 3 months

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Hear me out. I can't be the only one that wants to fuck Al's demon form. Like not just the black eyed tentacle gig, I'm talking full form like the size and all 😭 I can take it I swear, Al (narrator: she could not)

Title: A Reminder To All…

Themes: its giving monster fuc but like oof, demon!form Alastor, tentacles, established relationship, rough sex, growling, blood, possessive behavior, antlers, animalistic behaviors.

It was a rather quiet afternoon at the Hazbin Hotel.

You were up in the radio tower straightening a few things while Alastor was out doing gods know what

You decided that since you had cleaned up most of the place that you would take a stroll through town as some down time.

You hummed a tune as you passed many sinners out and about. Your stroll led pass the digital shop. You slowed as you noticed a crowd gathered outside a Voxtech store.

There were multiple tvs playing things in the windows and what caught your attention was the deals they had going on.

You bit your lip. Oh it couldnt hurt to window shop right?

You entered and was immediately overwhelmed by all the fancy tech.

why did hell need modern tech you had no idea.

A shiny pink camera caught your attention.

And it was cheap.

You did need a new camera. It would help with advertisement and to show the progress of the hotel you thought as you happily paid for it and went about your way.

what you didn’t know was that Vox had been tracking you the moment you left the hotel.

that camera of yours was now his gateway into seeing what Alastor was up to.

Once back at the hotel you pulled out your shiny new purchase.

you turned it on and walked around filming a bit.

You checking the footage to check out the quality when you heard a record scratch

”what is that my dear?”

You jumped at the sound of Alastor’s voice and spun around holding the camera

His eyes narrowed on it and quirked his brow at you, airing for an explanation.

”Well Al I-I just thought that the hotel could use a camera to help with promoting. We can record our progress. Now you don’t have to do all the work.” You said with a nervous smile, hoping he wouldn’t toss it.

He walked closer to you, mainly keeping his eyes on the tech.

”and where did you get such a frivolous thing?”

you gulped “At the v-voxtech store”

His ever-present smile tightened before he shrugged “fine if you think it’ll help”

you breathed a sigh of relief and happily went about your way testing it out.

Unaware of the growing shadows emitting from him.

after spending a few hours getting the hang of your new device, you decided to call it a night and put your camera on your nightstand as you got ready for bed.

You shivered slightly under your cover, grumbling you furrowed further to seek some warmth.

why the hell was it so cold?

you shifted again in bed to feel a heavy weight on top of you.

your eyes flew open and you were met with a very frightening sight.

Alastor.

In his demon form.

Your breath got caught in your throat “A-Al?”

He tilted his head, smile wide and sharp “Sleeping well my dear?” His voice was staticky and distorted.

you were so confused.

you hardly EVER saw Alastor upset, especially to the point were he was in his demon form.

“Why is that in your room dear?” He hissed out, jutting his chin to your camera.

You tilted your head confused at his question.

he was angry about a damn camera?

A clawed hand was at your throat.

”I allow many things dear, but this unattractive piece of scrap in your room? That is where I draw the line”

You let out a squeak as your clothes suddenly disappeared and covers ripped away.

”A-Al?!”

Your hands were quickly restrained by his shadows and your legs were spreaded to welcome him closer.

when the hell did he undress?

You felt the faint ghost touch of a tentacle slide against your cunt, teasing your clit. You let out a soft moan.

”Already soaking dearest?” He hummed amused.

You felt the weight of his dick slap against your cunt.

your eyes widened he wasn’t going to…

”Alastor w-wait! I c-can’t!”

A long tongue sweated the side of your face

”But you will darling” and with that he slammed into you.

Your body seized at the sudden intrusion. You let out a cry that was silenced by a tentacle wrapping around your mouth.

Alastor rutted into you, growling and snarling.

Your eyes faintly drifted to the camera by your bed.

A blinking red dot turned on and off.

Alastor gave you a rather harsh thrust.

”eyes on me dear”

you whined loudly, trying to shift your body to accommodate to his harsh thrusting. Your eyes drifted to the top of his head.

Antlers.

you felt your fingers itch with the need to find purchase on them.

you gave a tug at the shadows and huffed, making little grabbing motions hoping he would get the hint.

he granted you grace and your hands immediately flew to his antlers.

He let outa low growl and sunk his teeth into your shoulder.

With his dick hitting that delious spot inside you, you could feel him bottoming out.

You were flipped onto your stomach, facing the camera.

the shadow around your mouth disappeared and a claw hand found your tongue.

”put on a show Mon cher” You felt him flush against you.

Moans and whines filled the room as he pounded your cunt.

A high pitch whine left your throat as you felt your cunt clench around him.

you were gonna cum soon.

”A-Al-la-stor Ah!” Your eyes crossed as your body tensed and twitched from your orgasm. He let out a deep growl and quickened his pace.

Did he get bigger?

you were suddenly face to face with him.

Your noses brushing against each other as he sought after his own release.

Your arms wrapped around his elongated neck and a hand found one of his ears.

you tugged.

Static ran through your body as he slapped his lips on yours and slammed his hips into you, purring as he filled you with his cum.

you whimpered as your legs were finally released and dropped.

Alastor was breathing heavy as he reached over to the camera

”hope you enjoyed the show old pal” he laughed before destroying the camera.

you were drifting to sleep as you watched him transform back to normal.

”sleep well my dear” was the last thing you heard as he tucked you into his side, humming a soft tune with a wide smile.

He gave a reminder.

Dont fuck with the Radio Demon.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor smut #jyoongim

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shapelytimber · 6 months

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Calypso and the Pink Unicorn's pirate drag show !!!!!

[PRINT] - [COMMISSIONS]

Wee john served so hard it should be illegal 16 dead countless injured, I am dead Calypso was so hot

Process (and my french rant on why I hate the choice of la vie en rose) below vvv

Final without the text

Rough colors

Sketch !

Sorry english people, but what follows is too french an opinion to voice in english (I'll sum it up for u in the end <3)

Ok alors je suis désolé, Con o'Neill chante vraiment très bien ca n'a rien avoir avec sa performance, mais vraiment la vie en rose c pas possible. Le man est sur les champs Elysées a me vendre des tours Eiffel en plastique jpp- Franchement pipe et jambe de bois ca serai mieux passer. Ou les demons de minuit !!!!pourquoi pas les demon de minuit ?????? Chanson hyper connu française. Ok c moins cucu que la vie en rose, mais bonus point plus kinky (je pensais jamais decrire les demons de minuit comme etant kinky mais here we are-)

Ou juste n'importe quoi d'autre-

(And words of wisdom from my evil advisor @quijicroix : légende vivante (de Lorenzo) ça va avec tout. Ou une chanson triste de jul (pas bande organisée, tu peux pas ken dessus). Après tout le monde déteste la police ou nik le front national c les chansons les plus romantiques que je connaisse. Y a santiago aussi, avec le gros mat la. Les trois mâts, pour le steddyhands.)

Tout sauf la fucking vie en rose pitier (meme si, encore une fois, Con o'Neill la chante vraiment bien)

Welcome back english people ! To sum it up : la vie en rose is a french song for tourists that set up a fight or flight reaction in every native speaker. I'm glad people enjoyed this, but I cannot describe the cringe and disappointment I felt when they decided to have him sing this song- (even tho he sings it beautifully (which is part of the disappointment))

They are SO MUCH love songs in french, why this one.

PS : at this point (ep7) I don't know why Stede is still bothering with Ed "I'm hitting the banks didn't tell him which one" teach, when Izzy hands is right there ????? Sir please open your eyes

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kosije · 8 months

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sins in silk

c/w ★ ׂ duke!miguel ohara x princess!reader, they are from different kingdoms, mentioned age-gap, forbidden love aspect, pregnancy kink, mentions of masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, mutual head, fingering, size kink, art cred: kammie_arts1903

"Princess, the Grand Duke is here. May I bring him in?"

"Show him to the study for now. Tell him I will be right out. Be sure to thank the Grand Duke for his patience."

"Yes, Princess."

"Oh, Will?"

"Yes, Princess?"

"After you inform the Duke, please excuse everyone to their chambers, yes?"

"But princess, you know if the king found out we had left your side, even with the Grand Duke we could lose our-"

"I will not let that happen. So please, Will, do this for me."

All though apprehensive, your servant bows and disappears from your room, in long strides to the Duke.

It's the 5th time this month he has come to the estate. Always with the intention to see the King and ruminate. And despite him being so much older than you, your father's closest friend and strongest connection to the 2099 kingdom, and is only to wed a woman from his territory, each time he has come has left you tangling a hand in your silk sheets, hushed cries of the Duke's name left to fall from your wet lips in a silent plea.

Every time he drops by unannounced, talks to your father, and leaves. Every time he has his salt and pepper sprinkled brown hair combed back away from his face, showing the wrinkles on his forehead. Every time his eyes have focused on you, running over you like the pretty oil portrait that hangs above the study's mantle as his jaw flexes brows furrow, something in you ignites and the yearning becomes almost palpable.

Never does he say more to you than a few words, only acknowledging you after with how his body tenses when you're around. He runs as cold as the marble under your feet as you move to your vanity to reapply your perfume and shift your dress to expose enough of your collarbone without looking intentional. You're buzzing at the thought of seeing him, taking the rollers out of your hair with bubbling anticipation. This is the first time he's come amidst nightfall and the first time you two will be alone. With your hands resting to your front, you walk to the study well aware of how low your neckline is dipping while high pillared walls with paintings of cherubs and past battles trail you illuminated by ivory candles.

When you push past tall burgundy doors, you're greeted by the sight of Grand Duke of 2099, Miguel O'hara, who's stretching his back with two large hands on his hips. The deep groan he lets out makes your skin flush, and when his cold gaze meets yours you almost shiver. His eyes drift from your face to just right where your dress exposes a bit of the fat on your breast, and you smile when you hear him suck in a breath.

"What do I owe the pleasure, Your Grace?" His eyes tear from your chest as he focuses on the crackling fireplace.

"Just here to see your father, is he near?" He asks, brown eyes fixing back onto yours. Your smile only widens.

"I'm afraid the King is away, but he should be returning soon, you are more than welcome to stay 'till his return."

"I shouldn't-"

"Humor me, Your Grace. After all, I am a bit lonely without my father to talk to." you say, batting your eyelashes at him bashfully.

Apprehension is so clear on his face, but still he nods, straightening his white button up and waiting for you to go on.

"Follow me," you say, walking back down the hall until you reach your room.

"Princessa, I will not go further, this is inappropriate. A young lady shouldn-"

"'M not as young as I was before. Surely you can agree, no?"

"Even so," He coughs. "That is not the point-"

"You should have no trouble entering. I have already given my permission."

He doesn't look convinced.

"Do you not trust me? Have I done wrong by you?"

"That is not it, Princessa-"

"Then please, my duke, time is slipping right past us." you whisper, slipping through the doors, intentionally brushing your hand across his thigh. You grin when you hear his shaky breath, and hear your door not only close, but lock.

"What is it that you have here that we couldn't be anywhere else for?"

"Are you putting on an act," you ask him, turning around to face him still at a distance. "Or are you truly this aloof, Your Grace?'

"I’m sorry?-"

"I have a confession," you say. walking closer and closer until his breath is caught in his throat, and your lips are just a nudge away from his.

"My father won't be returning anytime soon." And suddenly, it seems it has clicked in his head, as his eyes darken.

"This can not happen."

"You're right," your hand is pressed up against his chest.

"Someone could hear us," He whispers, making no effort to push you away.

"I've already dismissed everyone to their chambers."

"If your father ever found out there could be a war," he tries to argue, but his head is still dipping down, ghosting over your lips.

"We have all night to just the two of us."

And just a second after saying that, he kisses you. His lips are hot, hungry, and experienced in the way they move against yours, swallowing your every breath. His hands find your waist, but he hesitates and you can tell he hasn't given in completely. And something about that excites you.

You pull away from his lips, leaving him noticeably confused until your hand reaches down and palms his cock, happy at the way he's already hard.

"Do you know just how long I've been wanting this?" You ask shifting him around you.

He doesn't say anything, only shakes his head "No."

"Ever since the day you came back to visit, I haven't been able to think of anything else." When you push him down on the edge of your bed, he shivers when you drop to your knees and play with the button on his slacks.

"Every night, I touch myself on these sheets to the thought of you." You confess, finally free him from his pants, leaving him in the thin fabric of his underwear, painfully soaking up the front of them with his pre.

"Princessa," He finally says in almost a whine. "If you say things like that I'm afraid I won't be able to hold back."

And dipping your hand under his waistband to grip his cock, you savor how thick and heavy he feels and the groan he lets out with a kiss to his base. You can't deny the bit of worry that flushes through you when you see just how big he is. Thick beads of cum pulse out of him that you lick up hungrily, humming at how you can feel hus veins on your tongue.

"Then please, Your Grace. Give me everything."

That seems to shatter his self control, because suddenly he has a hand in your hair and a hand on his cock as he forces your lips over his angry brown head.

"You're such a damn tease, you know that?" He gritts out, bullying his cock all the way to the back of your throat and then some. You gag and choke around him, already feeling your throat burn and eyes well up.

"Always coming around me with your father with your body on display in those cute little gowns, batting those pretty little eyes at me when you talk. What would your father think if he knew all of that was because you were trying to get my attention?" He coos between groans while using your face like just a vessel to get off, and your cunt starts dripping. "Just so I could fuck your pretty mouth like this?"

You can't do anything but moan around him, croaking out gasp when he finally lets you catch your breath before immediately pulling you back down onto his dick rapidly as snot mixes in with tears, spit, and cum starts to drip down your jaw and onto your floor. He begins to unbutton his shirt, before tearing it off completely, leaving buttons to fly across your room. Looking up through teary eyes you take in the way his usually combed back hair sticks to his sweaty forehead messily, as his abs tense and relax with every rapid breath as his mouth lulls open with lidded eyes, moaning when he sees just how well you swallow him.

Swiftly, you run your tongue over the slit of his cock, hearing him whine, and feeling the grip on your hair tighten enough to burn your scalp. Your throat aches with every heavy thrust that only spurs on the throbbing between your thighs as your hands play with his balls and he stutters in your mouth, shooting his seed down your throat, midst mumbling praises.

Without word or warning, he flips you over, effectively pinning you down to your bed once he's come down from his high. His large calloused hand runs up and down your thigh before tossing your nightgown up, and he groans at the sigh.

"You needed me so bad you didn't wear anything under this frilly thing? What a filthy girl." He grins, slapping your dripping cunt and drinking up your moan in a kiss.

"Your Grace,"

"That's not what you should be calling me." He grits, crouching down to his knees to lick a stripe up your throbbing pussy.

"M-miguel,"

"Yes, Princessa?"

"Please."

"Please what, Princessa?" He says, licking another stripe, but slower.

"Please...don't tease me." You whimper, muffling your moans with the back of your hand.

"And what shall I do instead?"

"Kiss me harder, please. I need it, Mig-" and your sentence is cut off by the feeling of his nose kissing your clit as he buries his face into your sopping heat, groaning at the way you suck his tongue in. You're writhing at the feeling, but when you feel one of his calloused fingers push through you, you lose your vision for a second.

"Fuck- you're even tighter than I thought you were," he groans, and you feel your body ignite at his admission.

"You'd think of me?" You ask with such a worn out voice, Miguel's hips buck up in search of any friction at all.

"All the damn time. Would fuck my hand everyday over those pretty eyes and lips, imagine how pretty you'd look all happy and spent, with the image of my love spilling out of you." He confesses, speeding his assault on your hole, hitting spots with his fingers you could only dream of, before latching his mouth back on and fucking you with his tongue and fingers. The arousal in you was rushing through you like a wave and just after a strangled moan it blows out of you in pleasurable burst that leave you flushed. He hungrily drinks you up like a starved man until you're whining from the sensation.

When he rises from the floor he doesn't bother wiping your slick from his mouth, only laughs at your fucked out expression, and runs his lips over yours, amused by how you trail after him. Annoyed, you wrap your hands around his collar and pull his lips onto yours, gasping and licking into his mouth. Between the taste of you on his tongue, his rock-hard cock rubbing against your puffy folds as your hands run through his sweaty hair.

"Gonna give me one more?" He asks, voice low like gravel.

"I'll do anything for you, Miguel. Anything you want."

He kisses you again, a passionate thing as you both whine at the feeling of him bullying into you.

"'Ts too big, Mig- oh! S-slow down!" You cry, but his hand slaps the fat of your thigh and grips it, hitting you even deeper at a fast pace. The pain is still there, but feeling of pleasure is much more intense. And it only skyrockets when you hear his voice.

"Sshhh sweetheart. You're-fuck-already taking me so well. so damn tight around me. Be good and take what I give you. So I c-can tell your father what a nice cunt his perfect little girl has." He rasps, pounding you even deeper than before, and your nails dig up the fabric of your sheets, leaving fabric frayed in long scratches. One hand grips your thigh as the other moves up your dress to tweak and grope your breast, making you clench down around him. He drawls out a curse as his head falls into the crook of your neck, inhaling the smell of your sweat and perfume that makes him impossibly more needy to where he's plowing through you in quick hard strokes that move your bed to knock against your walls, shaking the shelf above you.

His teeth sink into your neck, almost as a mark of ownership, before sucking a bruise into your skin, continuing his markings lower and lower to focus them on your breast. Your back arches at the sting and you cry out at the imposing feeling building up inside you.

"Such a pretty girl," he says, leaning over to look you in your eyes, studying the gaping of your mouth and tugging on your brows as your orgasm builds up. His eyes are trained on you, as he throbs inside you, stimulating you further.

"I'm close-" you whimper, voice cracking as he licks a stripe up your neck.

"Yeah?" He asks, smirk practically audible as he hums in your ear. "Do it. Squeeze me, sweetheart."

It only takes a few heavy strokes to hit your sweet spot before you are gushing around him, making his thrust sporadic and moans louder.

"Yes-shit- let me fill you up. I'll give you an heir, and then I'll-hah- fuck you again, and again, and again."

"Yesyesyes, please." You think you exclaim, but can't tell if you said it out loud or just in your head because of how overestimated you are. His hand rubs circles on your clit, and your toes curl as your heels dig into the muscle of his back.

"Fuck- I'm gonna-" He spits out, just before spilling his seed into your cunt, carefully riding out his orgasm inside you while pushing his cum deeper into your womb. His palm stretches over the expanse of your chest as he leans down to kiss just above your belly button. The room is quiet now that he is still inside you, and you watch Miguel lean down to kiss you once more, in the form of a soft peck to your swollen lips. Once he pulls back, he leaves you briefly before returning with a warm damp cloth that he wipes you down with. Once he is done, he discards it into a bucket and lies himself down next to you.

"If we continue to do this," he says, carefully pulling out of you. "We will eventually have to tell your father."

"You're right," you whisper scared, but when you feel his strong arm pull you flush against his chest, hope surges through you and you bury your face into his warm body.

"We'll need to get up early, the maids would appreciate finding us like this."

"We'll be fine. After all, a pregnancy will shock them far more than this."

"I'm sure it will," he laughs, kissing your forehead.

Since envelops the two of you, as you notice his breathing deepen.

"Your, Grace-"

"Miguel," he corrects, eyes dancing across your face with a small smile.

"Miguel, my father will be gone on the next full moon."

"The next full moon, huh?" He asks no one at all, pushing your hair behind your ear.

It’s bittersweet asking him to sneak around with you again. And yet, all he says is a simple "Okay," placing a kiss to the palm of your hand, and you understand what the gesture is:

A promise.

#( ☆ ) spiderman: atsv #( ☆ ) smuts #( ☆ ) fluff #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel ohara #miguel x y/n #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara headcanon #miguel o’hara fluff #sins in silk #duke!ohara

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