#YeS YES YES

[theeroticlover]

Mhmm !!! You and Me...

[m4ttslvr]

˳ ៚ Stars

cocky sub!matt x fem!reader

summary: your boyfriend matt can’t resist you when you wear those tiny shorts around him, even if his brothers may hear you get devoured by him

warnings: oral fem!receiving, pet names, matt the munch!!

“FUCK!” you scream at the monitor in front of you where someone just shot you and made you lose the game for everyone.

“y/n! i told you he was right behind you!” chris yells through your headset.

“chris don’t yell at her, you literally had the shot and missed it dumbass” nick defends you.

you groan loudly in annoyance at yourself, “sorry guys, can we try again?”

“ok let me get a snack and a drink first” nick says. “get me something too!” chris tells him.

you were about to ask for a snack as well, instead you yelp when you are quickly spun around in your chair.

you are met with your boyfriend matt looking down at you. “matt!” you protest with a giggle, playfully slapping his arm.

he doesn’t react much, his eyes are trained on your exposed thighs which seem to have him in a trance.

“m’sorry, you just look so delicious” matt says in a whisper, his gaze unwavering. your cheeks go red as he spreads your legs with an eager grip, and kneels in front of you. “just want a taste, please?” he looks up at you with puppy eyes that make you melt into his chair.

he places a hot kiss on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh that makes you jump a little and you quickly snap his head up by his hair. “matt we can’t right now, i’m on a game with your brothers” you whisper, covering your mic with your other hand.

he looks up at you with blown out eyes that are glazed over with desire. “don’t care” he whines, his long fingers pulling at the hem of your red booty shorts. “pretty please?” he asks, with a pout.

you really didn’t have the strength to say no when he was looking up at you like that. your body was already hot with desire and your pussy was getting wetter by the second.

"ok" you say softly, with your heart pounding in your chest. a smile spreads across his face and he licks his lips before sucking at your sensitive skin. you softly moan low in your throat. before you get too lost in the pleasure of matt’s touch, you reach to take off your headset.

you’re stopped by matt's tattooed arm, your wrist in his hand. you look at him wide eyed, he calmly shakes his head at you. "you're gonna keep playing" he says, more of a command than a statement. your heart is racing now but you nod anyway.

matt slides his strong hands under your knees pulling you closer to him until the gaming chair is pressed against his chest. he then raises your legs and places them over his shoulders.

“mmm you’re soaking through your shorts baby” he says in a cocky tone, biting his lip to hide his proud smirk.

you jump when his brothers yell something at you through the headset. you forgot they were there.

you feel matt lick you through your shorts as you’re about to answer. “y-yeah, i’m here” your voice more high pitched and shaky than you intended.

nick and matt are complaining about how bad you’re playing but you can’t find it in you to care when your boyfriend is slipping your shorts off agonizingly slow.

your eyes are glued to the veins on his hands and the feeling of his fingertips sliding down your hot thighs is making your breathing ragged.

matt’s biting back a smirk watching you squirm. “patient” he mouths and you might just cry because of how desperate he’s making you.

chris is begging in a really loud voice you on the other line to play as good as you usually do which matt hears. he places your hands on the keyboard signaling for you to play. you’re expression is dumbfounded but you’ll do anything matt wants you to do right now.

“go on baby, play nice” matt says with an encouraging wink while he slides a finger down the witness of your panties. his touch tickles your clit ever so softly and he adds a bit of pressure at your entrance— the air in the room heavy.

you can only nod as you try to play the game. you’re trying to concentrate on chris’ instructions and when you’re finally starting to shoot straight, matt pulls your panties to the side and blows on your exposed cunt, making you gasp into the mic.

“what?” chris asks, thinking it’s a reaction to the game. “answer” matt commands steadily, his eyes trained on your leaking and pulsating pussy.

you try to come up with something on the spot “a shooter behind the—“ you’re cut off by matt’s mouth attacking your pussy without warning. “oh!” you squeal in surprise and pleasure.

“behind what?” both nick and chris ask into the your ears. your hands pressed random buttons on the keyboard making your avatar run towards a random bush. matt digs his tongue into your entrance, your walls instantly clenching around it desperate to be filled with it.

“there mm— there” your mind short circuiting and muscle memory kicking in, you are encouraging matt going down on you but his brothers think you’re telling them there’s a shooter behind a bush.

“there’s nobody here” nick says confused. matt is now licking up and down between your folds, brushing your clit and your hole with every glide of his tongue. you were now biting your hand trying to muffle your moans.

“focus y/n, take it and come on” chris says into your ears and your brain short circuits again, taking what chris said as a sexual command instead of what he actually meant, which was him handing your avatar a gun. before you can register what you’re doing you moan an “mhmm” as a reply.

your eyes go wide when you realize what you did and there’s silence on the other line, you feel embarrassment wash over you in a wave of heat down your entire body. matt doesn’t stop working his mouth on you, he is lost in your taste.

you hear someone clear their throat on your headset and then they start having a conversation about strategies for the game.

you’re thankful they don’t address it and they’re not questioning you anymore because matt has just started pumping two of his long fingers into you— all coherent thoughts gone and your back arched in pleasure.

matt was relentless shaking his head side to side, his tongue flicking your clit back and forth. you are grinding down on his fingers now, your jaw slack, desperately chasing your high.

the hand that was over your mouth goes to hold onto the armrest of the chair so you don’t fall off the chair. but that was a mistake since another flounder escaped your lips, this time louder than before.

you try to disguise it as a reaction to the game, coughing and gasping as if something shocking happened in the game. “you good y/n?” chris voice says into your ears.

“fuck! s-someone’s shooting— at— me” you manage to say, while your boobs are bouncing from the strength in which matt is fucking you with his tongue. you watch matt’s low lidded eyes follow your breasts up and down.

“…what? where?” chris asks.

you’re breathing hard through your nose, so you don’t pant all over the mic and into matt’s brother’s ears.

“you’re way behind or something, we don’t see you?” nick says.

you try your hardest to click the right buttons and get it together, “m’good now” you manage to say.

“..okay” nick says, clearly worried about my playing skills.

matt reaches for your tank top with his free hand and tugs at it. you’re lost in the feeling of his lips on you that you don’t register what he’s asking. he stops devouring you pulling a sound of protest form you, “off” he says tugging at your shirt.

you get it this time and quickly strip, your boobs jiggling as they’re released from your tight tank top. matt’s hand immediately starts playing with your breast, squeezing and playing with your nipples. the stimulation becoming overwhelming, you felt your orgasm close.

with your vision blurry due to your low eyelids, you barely saw on the screen that his brothers had lost this round making you sigh in relief.

“wanna go another round y/n?,” chris asks immediately. you can’t form words at the moment with matt abusing your pussy so you can only make a noise of disapproval.

“pleaseeee?” chris begs. you can’t help that his words go straight to your pussy, making it throb even harder against matt’s lips.

you pulled at matt’s curls, the chair rocking back and forth. you were staring to feel like you were being too rough, but your worry is discarded when matt grips you from your waist and grinds you down even harder onto his face.

“you can do it, come on y/n” chris encourages you, his words having a whole different meaning for you at the moment.

his voice sounds almost identical to matt’s through the headset and it’s turning you on impossibly more.

“please please please please” chris goes on in a whiny voice.

you can’t take it anymore and you reach for the mute button. you’re lucky that you did because a second later matt curves his tongue and fingers inside you, making you moan matt’s name loudly and release all into his mouth.

matt wastes no time sucking up your juices, the feeling overstimulating your spent cunt making you see stars.

a/n: in honor of streamer matt making a comeback! ;3

₊━ִ─ LEV ᡴꪫㅤ·⠀·

[usersewis]

THE MONACO PRINCE HAS FINALLY DONE IT! THE CURSE IS OVER

[divinebunnii]

masturbating in the sunlight call that photosynthesis

[jade-the-kobold]

Me, at all times

[momoiro-hime]

HAPPY PRIDE FRIENDS !! 🌈💖

Heart series pt.1 | Do NOT repost or use without permission.

[happyheidi]

[secretcherimaybe]

[stark-cregan]

we love a sword wielding power couple

[frownyalfred]

why is Bruce always daring Clark to choke him when he turns evil? why is Clark’s first instinct upon becoming evil to choke Batman? questions DC comic book writers REFUSE to answer

[placeboelysium]

Hi first disco elysium blog post Ruby is hot and awesome yeah

I have more DE art that I'm being shy about but bear with me I've never made a new blog on Tumblr before errrmmm(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

[theeroticlover]

Thisssss :)

[m4ttslvr]

Never Enough

rough sub!chris x fem!reader

one shot: where Chris fucked you senseless last night yet he can’t get enough, so when you wake up to him touching himself in the morning, you decide to help him out

warnings: short smut, riding, marking, spanking, cumslut, hair pulling, wrist restriction, pet names

Chris pov

She laid there sleeping peacefully with her back towards me while my cock was painfully hard, tenting the sheets.

I couldn’t help it— knowing y/n was laying naked inches away from me, in my own bed. It was driving me crazy.

We had just fucked all night last night and that was the best pussy I’ve ever had. Her taste, her wetness, her tightness, her sweet sweet noises— my dick twitched.

I looked over at her while I reached down to touch myself, biting my lip to keep quiet. My movement made the sheets fall off her frame, exposing her delicate curves for me to admire.

I’m fighting for my life to keep my eyes from rolling back since I couldn’t help but stroke myself incredibly fast at the sight of her.

I had completely exhausted her last night having overstimulated her ntil she couldn’t take it anymore, so I felt bad waking her only a few hours into the night. But her bare ass was right there and I couldn’t help but moan remembering how that ass was up in the air for me to pound at last night.

My noises made her shift but I couldn’t stop touching myself now, with the memory of her on all fours arching her back to take my entire cock replaying in my head. My movements were shaking the bed and I was panting hard through my nose.

She turned around, squinting her eyes at me, trying to adjust her vision in the dim morning light of the room. “Ch–Chris?” her voice was low and croaky— it was so fucking sexy it made my dick twitch in my hand.

Her eyes widened at the sight of what I was doing. I was no longer trying to be quiet so there was no mistaking what I was doing.

Y/n’s pov

You woke up to the bed shaking underneath you. You barely had the strength to turn around, your body spent from last night. You called out for Chris while your vision adjusted and your foggy brain finally processed that Chris was moaning and panting right next to you.

Your eyes widened, now fully awake, when you saw his hand moving fast under the sheets. Your heart instantly started racing at the sight of Chris touching himself, his toned stomach clenched and sweaty. His hair messy and his cheeks tinted pink. He was moaning and whimpering loudly now that you were awake, the noises he was making causing you to stutter.

“Ch-Chris” you repeated, just to say something.

His strokes sped up and his head fell back against the pillow in pleasure, “mmm— keep saying my name like that baby, please”

His voice was high and needy, it made your head dizzy and your pussy wet. You fully turn towards him and you can see his eyes dart down to your tits. You lick your lips before repeating his name again.

“Fuck yes, so sexy baby— fuck” his voice kept getting louder, you could tell he was getting close to his orgasm. The movement of his fist on his dick made the sheets fall off of him, exposing his red veiny cock. That cock you absolutely loved and went absolutely feral for.

You instantly started salivating at the sight, your hips involuntarily grinding against the sheets that were now soaked underneath you.

You reach for his free hand that had been gripping the sheets and bring it over to your breast, your hard nipples craving contact. Chris wasted no time gripping hard, making you wince. His other hand maintained a fast pace on his cock that was now leaking with precum.

“Oh Chris, you’re just never satisfied are you? Always needing more— that filthy cock of yours always getting hard around me, huh?” you started, getting on your knees to straddle him. The contact of your warm thighs on his cold ones causing you both to hiss.

“Isn’t that right Chris?” you asked innocently, making sure to repeat his name, knowing he loved the way you said it. And it was evident by the way his gripped himself harder, his knuckles white and his face scrunched in pleasure.

“Can’t help it baby” he panted, struggling to maintain his dark blue eyes on yours. “Need it all the time” his voice was shaky and weak. “Need you all the time”

“Then have me Chris” you said, snatching his hand from his cock and placing it on your other breast, the precum on it rubbing against your nipple making your head fall back. His mouth opened with excitement and he licked his bottom lip, while nodding like a hungry dog.

“Yes please, yes” he begged under you, his voice whiny. It made you smile, loving how unafraid he always was of being vocal about what how much he wanted you. “Need that perfect pussy of yours around my cock so bad”

You were blushing while you aligned his cock with your entrance and slammed down, bouncing on him at the same pace he had been pumping himself, determined to fuck him senseless.

You both moaned out a string of curses as you felt his cock hit deep inside of you, your walls instantly clenching around his thickness. It was euphoric, the bit of pain of him stretching you combined with the incredible pleasure of it.

Your juices were spilling out of you with each bounce, coating his cock and balls in them. Each time you slammed down the slapping noises were loud and wet. His hold on your tits tightened and his head thrown back and his mouth open in pleasure. The sight of him coming undone underneath you encouraged you to maintain this fast pace and you ignored the ache in your thighs.

Chris had just fucked your brains out only a few hours ago yet the pleasure of his cock filling you up like nobody else has was too good and too addictive. You wanted it all the time too.

Your muscles were sore, your skin already peppered in hickeys and bruises, there was dry cum on your belly, and your lips were swollen, Chris having abused your body all the way last night. Still, you didn’t care— you both simply couldn’t get enough of each other.

“‘m not gonna last babe” Chris whined underneath you. “fucking me so good”

“It’s ok Chris, cum in me whenever” you panted, your thighs burning. “This pussy’s all yours” you clenched around him swiveling your hips in small circles and wrapped your hands around his neck, just the way he likes it.

His eyes rolled back into his head and you couldn’t help but throw your own head back. The feeling of his cock filling you up and the swivel of your hips causing your clit to rub against his groin was all too pleasurable.

He slapped your ass, causing you to jump and snap out of the trance you were in. His eyes were on yours, begging for you to bounce on him. You regained your pace, holding on to his chest for balance.

Chris gripped your hips hard as he thrust up into your pussy, chasing his high. You moan loudly at the sensation and fall forward onto him, gripping the sheets on either side of his head.

His hands snaked up to your back, sliding up your curves. He wrapped one arm around your waist to keep you in place, while his other hand gripped your hair, tugging at it. “tired princess?”

You were now the one that couldn’t for coherent sentences— hell you could barely form coherent thoughts. You just whined hoping it was a good enough reply for him.

His thrusts were hard and fast, each time the leaking tip of his cock hitting the sensitive spot inside you just right. Your body heat from both of radiating hot waves, making the room steam.

Your arms were shaking with exhaustion now, the physicality of it getting to you. Chris’s pounding was relentless though and you were taking it all so well. He could tell you were exhausted, so he grabbed your shaky arms and held them behind your back in on grip.

“My sweet girl, always so good to me” Chris praised in your ear, you were now close to cumming. You were probably going to cum before him if he kept thrusting this deep into you, while holding your body in place like this. “Taking my cock so good baby, cum with me please. I want you to cum with me”

You could only make a noise of agreement and nod your head in his shoulder. He’d normally make you voice your thoughts but right now he was being easy on you, given that he was the one who initiated this by touching himself— you were only being a good girlfriend and helping him out.

His last few thrusts were sloppy but effective and he had you cumming all over his cock, your pussy clenching and unclenching with the waves of pleasure washing over you. Your hands gripped his hair hard. His praises and curses sounded far away to you now since your orgasm made your ears muffled and your brain foggy.

Nevertheless, you could feel Chris cumming inside of you a couple thrusts after you. He bit down on your shoulder and grunted loudly. The feeling of his hot load filling you up inside was always the part that made your body spasm and your legs give out.

He rode out both of your orgasms with small slow thrust while you came down from your highs. Your body draped on top of his and you made no effort to get off of him since you knew he liked to stay inside you after. Plus you couldn’t move even if you wanted to.

You could feel Chris petting your hair and leaving sweet kisses on your temple. He mumbled sweet words into your ear as you drifted off to sleep, content that you helped your boyfriend out instead of him having to do it himself. You would deal with your aching muscles and sore body tomorrow, right now everything was perfect.

*masterlist

a/n: heyyy yall i’m baaack ahaa haa.. i was totally not fighting writers block! me??? neverrr. ANYWAY, is it just me or has Chris been the hottest most sexiest little slut lately? I cannot get him out of my head ESPECIALLY AFTER THAT MIRROR PIC IN HIS HEART BOXERS LIKE— 🛐

₊━ִ─ LEV ᡴꪫㅤ·⠀· 

[meep-meep-richie]

´´ So you said before, that you don´t think i´m ready. The truth is, i don´t know what i´m ready for, but i am ready for something. And i think maybe that something could be with you. ´´

[wooobuddyletsgetnasty]

maybe I have some Benedict Bridgerton girlies on here maybe not but I have to get this off my chest with the new season because the man looks good. And don’t think for ONE second that this is anything but self-indulgent.

there is ofc slight porn in here bc WHO DO YOU THINK I AM???

you’ve received your warning, come closer if you dare.

maybe something along the lines of Benedict being a best friend of your older brother, something along the lines of a staple in your household, someone you have grown far too used to seeing.

he is nigh a few summers your senior but still further progressed enough that they hardly allow you to play.

tragedy strikes on your year of three and ten, taking your mother and father, which leads you and your older brother, who is six and 10, to being sent to the countryside to stay until of age, until you are able to care for yourself.

—

it takes seven full summers for the two of you to make way back to the ton— on the eighth year, in the spring, you return— you make your debut with your brother heading the attempt to find a lawful man for you to wed.

that very same spring, you see Mr. Bridgerton again.. but he is different, as are you.

gone is the girl and in her place is a woman.

you are still bright-eyed, despite the tragedy— still quick witted and kind. but you are also different, ethereal— Benedict never realized how your smile lifts your cheeks, never realized how your brow furrows when you speak— Benedict sees you for the first time in years and it feels like he has really, finally seen you.

and he— he is a man now. taller than you remember, more filled out— stout. with strong hands and forearms you linger on longer than you should— something that proves the artist he is. but he is unchanged in mischief, in the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, in the way he tries to include you in conversation.

it is in the spring, the spring you return, when you realize— you love Benedict Bridgerton.

—

despite your realization, you note that Mr. Bridgerton will never see you as anything but his best friend’s younger sister. you are put out, saddened by it. but it does not stop you. you cannot, will not be your brother’s burden any longer.

it is then your discrete conversation, your inside jokes, and your admiration of Benedict’s art stops. you cannot be so close to a man if you expect to find a good husband, one that will care for you and make sure you are happy.

Benedict, Ben, will never love you and you are fine with that or at least you can pretend.

—

it does not take long for you to find a prospect, Lord Rothschild. he is kind to you— he listens when you speak, he does not treat you like you are lesser. you are content to marry him, happy even.

but it still feels like it is not enough.

his gaze does not burn through you— does not make you alive— it does not make you feel.

but you are fine— you convince yourself. you could be happy. you could learn to love him.

your engagement seems set in stone.

Lord Rothschild has asked your brother for your hand and you agree. your smile does not pull your cheeks in the way Benedict can make it— but the way your lips turn up when he tells you, it is enough for your brother to be content.

—

Benedict, Ben, he calls on you that very night— the very day your brother speaks with Lord Rothschild and there is something about him that seems urgent, terrified.

you speak to him quietly, your maid a shadow behind you, your gown sways in the light spring breeze, “what are you doing here?”

he pauses, hesitating in his answer, “I-I do not know, I do not know.”

you step closer, peering like someone might see you, “we cannot be seen— I am to be married— you cannot be here, Ben.”

he seems awed, struck in the same way he normally is by you, “i cannot tell you.. but i can show you.” you are rightfully confused but nod hesitantly, “alright, Ben. alright.”

“meet me at Bridgerton house in the early morn.”

you agree without question, hastily turning, nightgown ruffling with the movement, motioning your maid towards the door, “Bridgerton house. i will be there.”

—

you hold true and you come to Bridgerton house in the morn— but you do not end up staying there.

in a carriage surrounded by nothing but a stifling silence, you allow Ben to take you into town. your nerves are pooling in your stomach, making you feel ill— but something in his gaze makes you hold out.

when the carriage comes to a stop, Benedict leads you in a direction you are familiar with, and suddenly, he seems nervous to be standing in front of this building— you have seen it before and it does not help with your confusion.

it is his studio— a place you have spent far too much of your time in, wasting moments, talking about your favorite art piece of his, something abstract, something you do not understand but are happy to look at because he touched it.

“Ben.. what are we doing here?”

he swallows thickly, a nervous habit you have picked up on, “you will see.”

it does not quell your nerves.

—

the inside is different than what you have seen before. gone are the abstract arts and in their place is portraits— so many portraits.

you take a turn around, admiring the ones that are full of color, life. you admire the ones drawn hastily with dark lines and desperation. they are all beautifully done. you are awed by his talent, awed by how well done and intricate they seem.

it strikes you suddenly, quickly as you stare into one— those are all your eyes, your nose, your cheeks.

“Ben,” you pause, attempting to find the words, “are— are these all of me?”

you turn, looking at him with a look he has never seen before. Benedict swallows heavily, voice hesitant when he speaks, “yes, they are all of you.”

you turn back, a new admiration in your gaze, “you have painted me?”

you do not turn back when he speaks, “you are so beautiful, it is hard not to.”

you pause again on the one that seems desperate, the line of your brow drawn crudely, like he feared forgetting, “why me?”

there is a quiver in his voice, “even when i am unable to draw— to paint— i can still imagine you. i imagine you in perfect detail, every time. sometimes it’s only you, only you, i don’t even realize i am doing it— not until you, you with that enchanting smile, are looking back at me.”

your chest tightens, “Ben— please— please, explain what this means.”

there is a waver in your voice this time— echoing the same as his.

he answers steadily, a newfound confidence in his tone. Benedict moves, admiring his own art, “i have seen you millions of ways— millions of emotions,” with his next phrasing, he motions to a different art, art made by his hands, “contempt, sadness, anger, happiness..” his voice trails, “i have seen a million emotions in your face,” his lip quivers when he finally turns to face you, deep eyes turning tender, “and i have loved each of them.”

you shudder, emotion overtaking you, but you do not respond to him, instead allowing him to continue to speak, “i have loved each of them and i will continue to love them— each emotion, every passion— i will never, never finish loving them, loving you.”

you can hear nothing but your heartbeat— nothing but the sound of your ribcage rattling, “you— Ben— i cannot… i cannot do this. Lord Rothschild has asked for my hand. i am meant to be wed.. he will propose soon.”

you are rambling, almost trying to deny him— deny what you feel.

Benedict hardens but does not attempt to move closer to you, “you say you are to wed him,” he pauses, turning desperate, “but do you look at him the way you are looking at me?”

you do not recognize that you are looking at him any other way than normal, not until he quivers under your gaze, “stop. do not continue to look at me that way,” his voice drips with hardly there restraint, “do not— or i will ruin you.”

you break under his equal watch, hands going up in desperation, before landing equally at your side, “you, Benedict Bridgerton, have already ruined me. i cannot marry that man,” you cannot stop the absolute noise of desperation that falls from your lips, “i cannot marry that man— and it is because of you!”

he seems aghast at your words, “me? me!” he swaggers closer to you, some part of him sure that this is what you want and you answer by stepping in to his frame, confirming it is, “yes! you! you and your artworks, you and the way you are leering at me— you and just you, Benedict— you have ruined me. i have nothing left for anyone else,” you quiver, but do not deny yourself the satisfaction of finally admitting it, “i love you— i love you.”

it feels like a prayer— like a secret, like something you should not have shared. it is too late to retract— Benedict closes in on you, lips pressing against yours with an anguish you can taste.

—

it takes a moment of his lips pressing against yours before Benedict is pulling away, hands raising above his head, dark hair shaking with the move of his head, “tell me to stop— tell me to back away, please, please.”

you cannot— you will not. you refuse to deny yourself any longer, “no— Ben, Benedict— no.” when he turns away, you follow, making sure he can see you, see the emotion in your face, “you cannot do this— you cannot show me this and expect us to go back to normal.”

he finds himself unable to turn away from you, instead, he cradles you, hands cupping at the sides of your face in a way you can only describe as tender, and he whispers— he whispers in something you can only describe as salvation, “i love you.”

you answer in a kiss, one that makes him back you into a table, one that makes him lift you high, seating you on a table in the very place he paints— he paints you. his hands grip desperately at your skirts— he is temping you, nothing but sin reeking from every pore, “i love you.”

you squeal a noise unknown to you when he disappears under the fabrics, mouthing at the most sensitive parts of you like they are his supper, “wait! wait! what are you—“ you are cut off by a noise so depraved you do not recognize yourself, “oh! oh!”

you gather your own skirts in your hands, trying to take away burden from him but also trying to find something to grab— something to hold. you need it— need to focus on something other than his quick tongue— you need something to ground yourself against the onslaught of his mouth against the place only husbands are supposed to touch.

“Benedict,” you sound hazy, a feeling in your gut pooling in the way you have only felt your own touch make you, “something is happening!”

he hums against you, against your tender most spot, signaling he knows— he knows and it is supposed to feel like this, that it is supposed to happen this way.

you release your skirts, opting to instead grab at the dark hair on his head, pressing him against the part of you that feels the most— the part that tingles from the base of your spine to the tips of your toes, “oh! Ben! oh!”

you do not need to elaborate, he can tell— he knows, knows you are crumbling from his touch.

he pulls away from you, only when your noises turn in to almost discomfort.

he appears from under your skirts, grin happy and face wet. he watches you for only a moment.

Benedict watches the way your brow eases, worries quelled, watches the way your mouth opens in gasps— from him, because of him.

you heave for air, gasping and heaving and he pauses, taking in the way your face changes with each breath.

“i think i will paint you like this next,” you peer at him, him still lingering between your spread legs, his pretty face framed by the silky fabric of your dress, “but only if you will agree to be my wife.”

[castelovladraculamick]

Hoje Eu queria apenas fechar os meus olhos e amanhecer em seu coração