Warnings: SMUT (public sex, oral f receiving, adiran's a munch, piv)
Summary: Adrian wants to have car sex?!
Word Count: 2,000+
A/N: I accidentally posted this on the 1st instead of the 3rd, so if you’ve seeing this again, I had to delete it. Sorry to everyone who liked, reposted, and commented. I didn’t even get to read what you said I just panic deleted it🥲
“Wanna have car sex?”
Your head whipped over to look at your boyfriend who was still driving like he didn’t just ask you such a vulgar question.
“What?”
“Do you want to have car sex?” He repeated like it was obvious.
One moment you two are talking about how cool it would be if Chris’s suit was teal to match Adiran’s and the next he’s asking you if you wanna have sex? You almost reminded him about how illegal it is, but couldn’t help to stop and see where this was going. “You serious?”
“Yeah.” He pulls into the Chuck E. Cheese parking lot.
Besides the red sign and a few street lamps, the parking lot was dark and empty.
“Here?”
“Please, baby? It’s almost midnight, no one’s around.” He parked the car and turned to you. “My cock is really hard.” He gave you those puppy eyes through his silver glasses. The glow of the sign turned everything red, harshening the shadows, and making him look hotter if that’s even possible.
“Yeah, okay.” A smile curls on your lips as his eyes light up.
With a big ol’ grin on his face, he quickly lunged across the center console, grabbing your face with both hands and planting a kiss on your lips. Everytime he kissed you, he made it as special as the first. He’d never take it for granted, not when he was risking life and limb everyday.
After the kiss, you both quickly slide into the back seat shedding your clothes as fast as possible. Adrian couldn’t keep his lips off of you, kissing every inch of your face and neck.
“I’ve been hard since my mission earlier. I killed like 5 drug dealers.” The evidence grinded into your already soaked panties.
“Ugh, Adrian, you said you wouldn’t talk about killing people during sex anymore.” You groan as you kick his jeans off.
He pauses kissing your neck to look at you. “I know, I’m just trying to say that killing makes me horny and I missed you.”
“Adrian.” You chided him. If you didn’t stop him now, he’d be talking about his kill count until you cum. It’s happened a few times.
“Okay, okay!” He dives back down to suck more hickies into your neck. His hand slides down your body rubbing your clit through your panties. “So wet.” He growled.
His index finger hooks around the lacey material, pulling it to the side.
“Please.” You whimpered, bucking your hips for more. “Need you inside me.”
“God, I wanna taste you so bad.” He sighs, watching how his middle finger pushes past your lips, brushing against your opening, collecting your wetness, and sliding up to your clit.
He massaged tight circles into your clit, causing you to let out those pathetic needy moans he loves. A smile grew on his face as he watched your reaction. Adrian was obsessed with making you feel good. Some days you’ll even quiz him on animal facts while he eats you out, mumbling the answers into your pussy. You only did it on special occasions and he fucking loved it.
“But I need you to fuck me.” You whine
“Just a quick taste.”
He grabs your legs, tossing them over his shoulders before taking your hips and lifting your entire lower half up to his mouth. He didn’t give you any soft licks like he normally did, instead, he nuzzled right into your cunt and let his tongue invade every inch. It was sloppy and needy. He didn’t give a fuck if his face was covered in your slick, he fucking loved it. The metal of his glasses were ice cold compared to the heat that was generating between your legs.
“Adrian!” You squirm and squeal.
You were folded in half, left to his whim. Your hands desperately try to find purchase, clawing and grabbing at the leather seat and headrest.
“Fuuuuck,” he groans into your pussy. “So fucking good. You can try it when I kiss you.”
You wouldn’t be able to stop moaning if you tried. His tongue was absolutely ruthless. In random intervals, he lapped from bottom to top, swirled his tongue around your bud or flicked it, or he’d flat out plunge right into your sopping cunt.
The sight and sound alone could send you over the edge. The way he closed his eyes to concentrate on you, his glasses fogged up, the squelching of your pussy every time he nuzzled deeper into you.
“Oh god! I’m getting so close!” You cried out, your walls clenching around his tongue. “Adrian, Adrian! Oh, Adrian please! Adri- HEY!” You snap out of your haze of bliss when he suddenly pulls away.
“I just wanted a taste.” He shrugged and laid you back down.
A frustrated groan leaves your lips. “Not nice.”
His brows furrow, the fog in his glasses slowly going away. “I’m very nice to you! You’re my best friend!” He pushed down his underwear, letting his cock spring free and slap against his abs. “I don’t stick my tongue in anyone else’s pussy. Plus this week alone you’ve cum 9 times and we’ve only had sex 4 times. Most men can’t make their girlfriends or wives cum once a week.” He grimaces at the thought before he presses his tip against your cunt and slowly pushes in.
You let out a long moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his size. It slightly burns, but in the addicting way that only your boyfriend could create. He gives a few experimental shallow thrusts, making sure you’re good. Once your face doesn’t show any signs of discomfort and only sweet gasps come out of your lips, he tosses one of your legs back on his shoulder, and starts plowing you.
“Men who can’t make-ngh their girlfriends or wives come- ngh should honestly be shot.” He grunts out between violent thrusts that make the whole car shake and squeak. “And guys who won’t eat pussy... I mean, why wouldn’t you!”
You’d beg him to shut the fuck up if you could, but the babbling of random symbols was the extent of your ability to speak.
Adrian falls forward a bit, placing a hand on the door and the other on your thigh. “I’d eat you out any day- oh wow! Wow, you’re really tight right now, fuck!” He moans. “ I love how you taste, though. I’d choose you over ice cream, or sushi, or mashed potatoes, or…”
As he lists off every food to exist, you weakly bring your hand up to cover his mouth. Except the way he was hitting your g-spot right now was blurring your vision into a thousand stars. So, you end up bumping his glasses and nose in a desperate attempt to stop him.
“…or pasta, or beer-“
You give up and grab his jaw that was still slick with your taste, and yank him down to kiss you.
That did the trick.
Adrian immediately moans into the kiss. Without his mind focused on rambling, his strokes became more precise. His hips rolled against yours perfectly, brushing against your clit in the process. Your fingers tangle in his curls, pulling a low moan from him.
Despite it being a cold night, the car was hot and sticky. By the way your boyfriend was hammering into you, you would have thought it had been months since you two last fucked. One of your hands presses back against the dewy glass of the window as you desperately try to buck back into him.
“Shit! You’re tight!” He winces and breaks away from your neck.
He leans back again, wanting to watch how he splits you open, and god, was that a sight. One of his all time favorite, right after fucking his cum into you. Your pussy gripped his dick with every drag, coating him in your glistening juices. You were starting to cream, creating a ring of white sin around the base of his cock, dripping down his balls that slap against your ass. It was an absolutely vulgar sight, but one he’ll forever be in love with.
“So fucking pretty.” He whines, watching the sight.
“Adrian! Ah!”
“You like it like this? Like it in the back of my car?”
Eyes barely open, you lazily bob your head, barely able to focus on anything but his dick mercilessly hitting that special spot deep inside you.
He notices your toes curl as you get close to your climax. He turns his head and kisses your ankle that rests on his shoulder.
“So deep- AHGN! Like that! Yes, yes!” You gasp for air as he knocks it out of your lungs with each thrust.
“I love you.” He mumbles into the skin of your calf as he continues to ruthlessly plow you. “You’re my best friend.” Adiran leans back over you again to kiss you, muffling the moans rolling off your tongue. “Say it.” He begs against your lips. “Tell me you love me — that I’m your best friend, and I’ll let you cum. I’ll let you cum so hard.”
The desperate tone of his voice and the way he traded his steady pace for fast faltering thrusts was your way of knowing he was on the edge
“I love you, Adrian.” You whimpered against his lips. “I love you so much. Ngh! Ngh! You’ll a-ah-always be my best friend.” Your heavy lidded eyes looked into his. His glasses lopsided on his nose, just barely hanging on.
“Fuck, fuuuuck! Cum. Cum all over my cock!” He gritted his teeth, holding back just long enough for you to cum first.
Your pussy squeezes and throbs around him as you cum. The car fills with your high pitched moans and gasps while your orgasm rips through you, making the entire world disappear except for Adrian. The throbbing of your pussy was the final straw. He came moaning and babbling your name, desperately fucking you, prolonging your highs as long as possible. You could feel him twitching inside you, emptying every drop into you.
You stay like this for a few minutes, needing the time to catch your breaths and come back to reality. When you eventually do, you notice how the windows completely fogged up, a few smeared hand prints left behind.
“How was that?” He sighs into your neck, giving it a kiss before sitting up.
“Really fucking hot.” You hum, your voice sounding raw, now.
Adiran gives you a big smile like he just saw a manta ray. Fixing his sideways glasses back into place, he asks, “Yeah? You liked fucking in the back of my car?”
You smiled back and lazily nodded, watching him carefully slide out of you and pull his boxers on.
“Good, I can schedule it again.” He sits back and turns his attention to the window and draws faces into the fogged up windows.
Your aching body protests as you sit up. “Schedule it? What?”
He looks back. “You didn’t think we were doing this illegally, were you?”
Your brows furrow at him. “Adrian, what are you talking about?”
“I rented the parking lot out.” He goes back to drawing on the window, writing We Fucked Here. “I gave the Chuck E. Cheese franchise owner 100 bucks to use the parking lot for an hour and a half. Plus, I added signs around the place so no one comes around. I’m not a monster.” He snorts, finding the idea of doing this illegally ridiculous.
You were completely shocked. It makes sense he would go through these hoops to ensure no laws were broken, but still insane. ”Oh my god!”
“What! It’s the only way we could have car sex legally unless you want to do it in my mom’s garage!”
You shake your head and chuckle quietly to yourself. Maybe you were the fool for thinking he’d actually break the rules. It’s Adrian, the same boyfriend who prided himself on killing graffiti artists and god knows who else.
Adrian simply continues to draw on the windows, only wearing his boxers still.
“An hour and a half?”
He checks the clock on the dashboard. “We still have time if you wanna go again.”
“Yeah, okay.”
A/N: First Adrian Fic🥰 I might have to do more if it’s received well so lmk!
Permanent Tag List: @what-iwish-you-knew @infuriatinglyoptimistic @harriedandharassed
Warnings: reader has a southern accent bc why not, low-ish honor? he has high and low honor moments so idk, yearning, SMUT (corruption kink, virgin!reader, talking you through it, oral f receiving, piv, cowgirl & missionary, multiple orgasms, dirty talk)
Word Count: 5K
Summary: Arthur has his eye on the sweetest girl in Valentine except… you’re the sheriff’s perfect daughter.
A/N: we hit 1000 followers! thank you all sm🥹
Arthur Morgan was always in and out of jail.
Dutch or Hosea were the usual ones to come and drag him out. Sometimes after a botched robbery Micah would abandon him, sometimes over a bar fight, or when he pissed off the sheriff which was quite often. It’s not like he enjoyed spending his evenings rotting in a cell, bickering back and forth with him.
But then he started getting caught on purpose.
It started a few months back.
Arthur leaned against the brick wall, tracing a crack with his calloused fingers. The cell smelled of stale whiskey and tobacco either from former inmates or the sheriff’s breakfast. When the wooden door creaked open, he straightened, hoping Dutch had finally shown up to pay his bail.
Instead, he saw you.
A proper little lady, all ribbons and lace, stepping into that dim sheriff’s office like a patch of sunlight. You closed your parasol and set it beside the door, your gloved hand carrying a wicker basket.
“Y’ forgot your lunch, Daddy,” you said with that sweet voice as you placed the basket on the desk.
“Ah, thanks, sweet pea.”
Arthur didn’t dare move, though his pulse kicked up. You were one of the most beautiful and best-dressed women in Valentine—your father made sure of that. In a town of dust and mud, he wanted you to shine. Dresses pressed clean, sun hats tied with silk, gloves that never saw a stain. He hoped you’d catch a traveling businessman’s eye, settle down, and live a respectable life for a respectable woman.
You didn’t so much as glance his way, but Arthur felt like the air had left the room.
After kissing your father on the cheek, you took your parasol and left, your skirts brushing the doorway. He shifted on the cot, craning his neck to watch you walk down the street from the window. He studied the sway of your hips as you disappeared.
The sharp cock of a revolver snapped him back.
“I know damn well you ain’t lookin’ at my daughter!” the sheriff barked, gun aimed dead at his head.
Arthur raised his hands lazily, leaning back against the wall. “Now what would possess me to be that stupid?”
The sheriff grunted, lowering his gun with a scowl.
After that day, Arthur didn’t mind getting caught anymore.
“Headin’ to town. Don’t bail me out till tonight!” he’d call to camp at least once a week, before kicking his horse toward Valentine.
Even if he only saw you for a minute, it was worth the iron bars.
“Evenin’, Daddy.”
Arthur sat up straight, pretending not to care.
“Whatcha doin’ here, sweet pea?” your father asked.
“There’s a caravan of spices in town. Could I get some?”
He sighed, rummaging through his drawer, grabbing some coins for you. “Fine. Just don’t go buyin’ everything you see like last time.”
Then came a gunshot outside, followed by hollers and cheers. A drunken fight, no doubt.
Your father stood, strapping on his gun belt. “Stay here. And don’t talk to the prisoner!”
“Alright,” you said, watching him hurry out.
The office fell quiet. You lingered near the window, peeking through the glass at the commotion. You could just barely make out a group of men wrestling in the mud while townspeople gathered around.
“You’re an awfully pretty thing.”
The deep, gravelly voice catches your attention.
You turn, finally meeting the outlaw’s eyes admiring you through the bars. He’s lounging on the cot like he’s got nowhere better to be.
“That’s kind of you,” you say politely, “but I’m not allowed to socialize.”
You turn back to the desk, pretending to study the pile of wanted posters and ink-stained papers on your father’s desk.
“I won’t tell,” he drawls.
Surprised, you glance over your shoulder. No one ever dared speak to you like that, knowing damn well who your father was. Especially not a man sitting in your father’s cell.
“You’re a criminal.” You say it as a fact, not an insult, before looking back down.
However, you could still feel his heavy gaze roaming your body. He shifts, the cot creaking under him. “I wouldn’t hurt ya, miss. I'm a gentleman believe it or not. ‘M only here for foolish reasons.”
Silence.
“Your daddy just don’t like me much.”
Still nothing. A moment goes by as he tries to think up something else to say.
“I couldn’t help but notice you ain’t got a ring on that finger. Nor any gentleman escortin’ you.”
You let out a small breath through your nose. “You’re not very bright if you think talkin’ to me is a good idea.”
That earns a low chuckle from him. “Tell me, how’s it possible a pretty thing like you’s walkin’ ‘round Valentine without an intended?”
You turn then, leaning back against the desk, doing your best to look indifferent. “I have high standards.”
He stands and strides closer, resting his forearms on the bars. “’Suppose I don’t meet ‘em, huh?”
You can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Not even close.”
“Lemme guess,” his eyes the curves of your body. “You’re waitin’ for some city boy with a briefcase and a fancy tie. He’ll sweep you off your feet, take you to the city, buy you a big white house with painted shutters. You’ll live a quiet life, raise five kids… till he finds himself a mistress.”
You scoff, “Not all city men are like that.” You sounded more defensive than you meant to.
“Most are,” he says simply. His fingers tap the metal between you. “You wouldn’t have any fun livin’ like that. City boys just want a pretty thing to show off. Someone to help ‘em carry out their family name and make ‘em look good.”
Your gaze drifts away despite yourself. You’ve seen it—couples who don’t speak, wives who smile only for show. They look beautiful together, but looking back, it looks like an act.
He studies you, his tone lowering. “But us country men, outlaws even… we don’t need all that status nonsense.” His lips twitch into a near-smile. “We just want a woman we can worship proper.”
Heat rises, burning the tips of your ears.
“No city boy’s gonna come home n’ bury his tongue in that sweet pussy at the end of a long rough day, just for the hell of it.”
You should have turned away. You should have ignored him like your father told you to. But no one’s ever spoken so lewd and vividly to you. Even when you got the birds and bees talk it was vague. When you asked about sex with some other ladies in town, they’d all say the same vague things as well. “It’ll be quick.” “You’re lucky if he knows what to do with his pecker.” “We just do it once a month.” “It’ll hurt.” “It ain't all that.” “I didn’t even know he was in there.”
He could tell your mind was racing. “I could show you.” His deep drawl hypnotizes you. “Show you what it’s like to be with a real man.”
You froze. The room seemed smaller, the air thicker.
Before you could gather a reply, the door banged open—your father dragging in a bloodied drunk by the collar, two deputies with their own drunks crowding behind him. The spell shattered in an instant.
You straightened, forcing air into your lungs and your hands to still. The sheriff barked orders, the sound commotion quickly filled the once quiet room. Luckily, he was too busy to notice your flustered state or the way you couldn’t quite look at the man in the cell again.
“Move over, Mr. Morgan. You’re gettin’ a roommate.”
The sheriff shoved the drunk into the cell, and Arthur’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Moment ruined.
Mr. Morgan. You hadn’t known his name until now.
“Well, Daddy, I best be on my way before the caravan leaves.” You gathered the coins from the desk, slipping them into your skirt pocket.
“Yep, see ya tonight, dear,” he said distractedly, wrestling the drunks into compliance.
You hesitated at the door, then glanced back over your shoulder. “Goodbye, Mr. Morgan.”
The corner of his mouth twitched up, his posture straightening like a man who’d just been handed back a bit of hope. The sound of his name on your tongue replayed in his head long after you’d gone.
The following weeks, you'd almost always found Arthur in your father’s cell. And every time you walked in, his eyes would light up at the sight of you. You tried to tell yourself it was ridiculous, that there was nothing cute about an outlaw flirting from behind iron bars… but the flutter in your chest betrayed you every time.
There had been a few times he’d put a flower in his hat, slipping it to you when your father wasn’t looking. You always kept the wildflower, hiding it in your room like it was contraband. In a way, it was.
One afternoon, Arthur sat on the cot, listening as you chatted with your father about dinner plans.
“Just a friend from town,” you said, fixing the wrinkled lace in your dress. “We’re meeting at the saloon at 5, won’t be home till a little late.”
Arthur said nothing, but an idea quickly bloomed in his mind.
After Hosea came to bail him out, he rode straight back to camp and found John and Javier. By sundown, the three of them were striding through Valentine toward that very saloon.
Inside, the air was grey with cigar smoke, music, laughter, and arguing gamblers. He spotted you almost instantly, sitting with a friend at a corner table. He kept to the bar, a bottle of whiskey in hand His eyes flicking between his drink and you as John and Javier chatted beside him.
“Y’ should go over there,” your friend teased, nudging your arm. “He’s been eyeing you for at least 10 minutes.”
You followed her gaze and froze when you saw him. That same man from the cell, leaning against the mahogany on his elbow.
“I’m fine here,” you murmured, though your pulse quickened.
“Oh, come on. He’s handsome.”
“Not my type.”
“Bullshit.” She grinned. “Go on, talk to him. I’ll be fine”
You sighed, muttering something under your breath as you gathered your empty glass and stood. You made your way to the bar, careful to keep a few feet between you and him. Setting your glass down, you cleared your throat softly.
“Just water, please.” You ask the bar tender.
“Funny seein’ you here,” he drawled, watching you from the corner of his eye as he took a swig.
You turned just enough to meet his eyes. “Why are you here?”
“Can’t a man enjoy a drink with his friends?”
“Oh, is that what it is?” you teased, the corner of your mouth twitching.
“That’s the truth, ma’am,” he tipped his chin toward John and Javier on his other side. Then that smirk crept back. “But… I think you’re glad to see me here.”
You let out a small snicker. “Glad? Now, I don’t know about that.”
“Oh, come on.” He leaned closer, and gave you all of his attention. “Was it really necessary to remind your daddy where you’d be tonight? And so damn loud, too. Thought the whole town heard you.”
“I didn’t want him to worry.” You try to defend yourself, trying to be as casual as possible.
He chuckled, eyes lingering flicking down to your lips. “You missed me. Been thinkin’ about what I said, huh? That no city boy could give you the kind of life you deserve.”
“That’s not true-“
“Then why do you keep coming to see me?”
You met his gaze, pulse quickening. “You think quite highly of yourself, Mr. Morgan.”
You certainly amused him, there was no denying that. “Maybe.” He shrugs. “Or maybe I just know you’ve been thinkin’ about me near as much as I’ve been thinkin’ about you.” His voice dropped lower. “Don’t you ever wonder what else is out there? Besides those white fences.”
You hesitated, the air between you thickening, making it harder to breathe. For a moment, you almost forgot the noise of the saloon, the laughter, the piano, the boots scraping the floorboards.
His words hit harder than you’d expected. How could some outlaw have such an effect on you?
You steadied your voice, not wanting to let your nerves show. “There are rules to society,” you said carefully. “Not everyone’s a deviant, Mr. Morgan.”
Those dark and dangerous eyes of his only put you in a deeper trance. Was this the devil everyone spoke of?
“Perhaps not. But the world’s a whole lot bigger than what you’re told, darlin’. You just ain’t seen it yet.” Finally, his hand lifted, knuckles grazing your arm. A touch so light it almost could’ve been imagined. “Let me show you what your daddy’s world keeps you from,” he murmured. “Then you can run back to your precious little society and find yourself a husband, if that’s what ya still want.”
Your breath caught, his fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps down your skin. “I- uh- I wouldn’t even know where to start,” you said softly, the truth tumbling out before you could stop it.
He smiled, not mocking. If anything, he found it sweet. “Didn’t figure you would.” His hand shifted, taking your gloved ones into his.
He played with fabric that divided you before taking the tip of the glove and pulling it. He took his time, giving you every opportunity to pull away, reject him, even slap him if you wanted. But you didn’t. Once the glove was off, he shoved it into his back pocket and did the same to the other before delicately cupping your soft hand.
“I gotta room upstairs. Just say the word, darlin’.” He lifts your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.
Your heartbeat thumped louder in your ears.
Three months ago, you’d have laughed off a man like him. Three months ago, you’d have followed every rule set before you.
Now, you just stood there, torn between what you were taught to want and what this outlaw made you feel.
Then your gaze flicked from your hands, to his eyes before whispering, “Show me.”
Arthur whistles to John and Javier, giving them some sort of signal. They exchange knowing looks before tossing come cash on the bar and slipping out into the cool night.
He turns back to you, his hand finding the small of your back as he guides you up the creaky staircase to his room.
Inside, the room was dim and cozy. A single oil lamp burns on the table, making a warm, flickering glow across the walls. Arthur turns you to face him, hands move to your cheeks, cupping your face like you were made of porcelain.
“You sure you want this?” His gaze holds yours, searching yours for any doubt.
You swallow hard, your lips parting as you breathe out, “I do, Mr. Morgan.”
“I’ll do right by you.” He whispered in that gravely voice of his.
With your confirmation, he leans in, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is softer than you ever imagined.
He takes his time, molding your lips together. It was like he was afraid to ruin the moment by wanting too much too soon. His hand stays at your cheek, thumb brushing slow circles against your warm skin. He wanted this to be sweet for you. Wanted it to mean something.
Arthur had known plenty of wrong things in his life, but this, he wanted to make right. Perfect, even. So perfect you’d never consider another man again.
Your hands come up to fist in the fabric of his button-up as he deepens the kiss, tilting his head to capture your upper lip. The world narrows to the sound of your kiss and the creak of the old floorboards as he leads you to the bed.
One of his hands leaves your cheek, sliding down the length of you until it finds your waist. He pulls you closer like he’s testing how much of you he’s allowed to touch, but you willingly give it to him.
You hum against his lips, “Mr. Morg-“
“Arthur.” He breaks the kiss.
“Arthur.” You try it now, making him grin like a school boy.
“‘M gonna have you moaning that all night.” He captured your lips again.
This kiss was different, nothing like the first or what you’ve heard before. Perhaps you’ve seen it once or twice in the alley of a saloon. Never, did you expect for a kiss to have such a physical reaction on you. A fire burned in your veins and traveled down to where your core started to ache. An ache you weren’t familiar with, but one that was possessing you.
His hands reach for the ribbon holding your dress together and slowly tugs, unraveling it. Your dress slackened down your shoulders, exposing more of your cleavage, but not enough to fall on its own.
He backs you onto the bed, carefully lowering you onto the comforter. His hands grew bolder, trailing down your leg and to the hem of your dress at your ankle. His lips moved to your cheek, then jaw, then neck where he was rewarded with a sweet gasp.
“Ohh, Arthur.” You sighed and let your head fall back.
“This ain’t nothin’, darlin’.” He nips at your neck, not enough to form any hickeys. “Lemme taste that pussy of yours. I know it tastes sweeter than sugar.” He breaks away to carefully take your boots off and kneel on the floor boards between your legs.
You yelp when he suddenly grabs your hips and tugs you to the edge for better access. Those rough hands of his find their way up your soft legs, pushing the skirt of your dress up at the same time. When he finds your undergarments, his fingers hook them and tug them off. Your thighs shut on instinct once the cloth is gone.
“Awe, come on, now.” He looks up at you, unbuttoning his shirt and letting it slide off. He wasn’t going to risk anything getting in the way.
“I- I can’t. It’s embarrassing.” Your face was hot.
“I assure you, there’s nothing embarrassing about this.” His hands move to rub your thighs to slowly encourage them to open. “I’ve been dreaming about this pussy of yours since I first saw you.”
Slowly, you gain the confidence to part your legs. When you do, Arthur’s eyelids grow heavy with lust.
“You’re soaked.” The confidence starts to fade and your thighs move to close, but he catches them, holding them open.
“That’s a good thing.” He chuckles and props your thighs on his shoulders.
“Oh.” You watch him nervously.
“I’m just gonna taste ya. Nothin’ to worry about.” He kisses your inner knee before working his way down. “You might even be begging for more later.”
The scent of your core, alone, was enough to have him salivating. With a lick of his lips, he closes the gap. His tongue laid flat against your slit, licking a long stripe up, curling his tongue ever so slightly to collect your arousal.
Your jaw immediately drops and hands grip the blankets. Your voice, once so soft and sweet, now, needy and desperate.
“Arthur! Mmmm! Arthur!”
There was no need for hesitation; he ate you like a starving man. There was nothing else that mattered at this moment except making you feel good.
He moved his mouth up to your clit, circling it with his tongue. He pressed against it, giving it a flat, hard lick. Then closed around your clit and he began to suck viciously, pulling mewls from your lips.
He moaned against you. Your taste was addictive. Everything he imagined. His hands gripped your thighs tighter, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. His tongue kept moving, alternating between flat strokes on your clit and sliding down to press inside of you.
You didn’t know pleasure like this was possible. It made you second guess why you’d ever resist. “You’re makin’ me feel so good!”
His mouth was aggressive, but so precise. Arthur knew exactly what he was doing. He moaned against you, the vibrations adding to the pleasure already building inside you. It was like he wanted to devour you.
Your hands shoot down into his hair, knocking his hat off his head. He groaned against you at the feeling of your hands, and his eyes flickered up to watch your jaw go slack.
His tongue moved against you, licking and sucking in all the right ways that had you writhing and moaning under him. His cock was straining against his trousers, begging for mercy, but he was too focused on you.
“You’re doin’ so good for me, sweetheart. Just gonna give ya a little more, okay?”
Your hips jerk as his rough finger slides through your folds, collecting your juices. It pushes past your lips and into you in one slow motion.
“God, you’re tight.” Arthur groans, watching your cunt flutter around him.
That thick finger starts moving in and out. Almost immediately, your thighs shivered. He picks up the pace. You could hear the faint squelching of your sopping wet pussy.
Arthur was in heaven. He leans back in and tackles your clit with his tongue. Your walls instantly clench around his finger and toes curl. You were on the edge and he knew it. He nuzzled his face deeper, not caring if his beard was scratching your thighs.
Not even a minute had passed before you were blinded by pure ecstasy. Sounds you didn’t even know you could make, rip from your mouth. He works you through it, helping you ride out those waves while slurping up every drop.
As you come down from your high, Arthur climbs back up over you, wiping his chin and beard. “Y’ alright?” He cups your cheek as you catch your breath.
“Mhm.” You hum.
“You think you can handle my cock?”
Your eyes open again, brows raised. “I- I think so.”
He carefully maneuvers you to lay in the center of the bed. His hands roam your body, taking your dress and peeling it off. With every inch of skin being exposed, he pressed tender kisses, worshipping you.
“So beautiful.” He hums.
Once you’re fully naked he works on his pants, tossing his belt onto the floor with a clang. You study his lower abdomen as more skin is exposed. Your heart rate picked up as you saw the girth of his cock.
“Still sure you wanna do this?” He chuckles as your wide-eyed reaction.
“I’m sure, it’s just…” He settles between your legs and leans over you, planting his arms beside your head. “Is that really supposed to go in me?”
“It is.” He answered simply.
“I don’t think it’ll fit.”
“I’ll make it fit, don’t you worry ‘bout that.”
The aching red tip of his cock presses against your clit, making you jump a little.
“It’s okay, sweetheart, I’ll go slow.”
Arthur takes his heavy cock in his hand, giving it a pump before pressing this thick head to your opening. Slowly, he slides in.
Your eyes seer shut as you take it. “Mmm, it’s big, Arthur." You groan.
He breaths heavily through his nose as your tight cunt squeezes around him. “I know. You’re doin’ good, girl.”
Your nails dig into his biceps as he feeds you more inches. Finally, he bottoms out, both your breaths already labored. Once he feels your pussy relaxing around him, he slides out slowly, keeping only his bulbous head in then sliding back in.
Arthur watched your head fall back and your back arch. He took in every expression you made as he slowly sank inside your tight wet pussy again. This was the sight he had been fantasizing about every night for the past few months. Here you are now, under him, taking each thick inch.
That uncomfortable stretching and pressure subsided into bliss. Moans roll off your tongue now, hands grabbing whatever they could; biceps, shoulders, back.
His pace started to pick up, his hips snapping to meet yours with more force. His breathing was growing increasingly labored, his face contorted in pleasure.
“Ooh, god- ngh!” He grunted, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through him. He was starting to lose himself in the feeling, his mind going fuzzy.
“Arthur,” you moan and tug him down for a kiss. He happily responds, deepening the kiss and pushing his tongue into your mouth.
With the shift of his hips, he finds your sweet spot. You break the kiss, letting out a pathetic mewl.
“I know, sweetheart. Ngh, that feels good don’t it?” He loved taking something so pure and watching it unravel for him. He let out a low feral moan as he picked up speed. “I- ungh fuck! I think you’re ready for the next part.”
“I- I am?”
“I wanna teach ya to ride me.” He grunts with every sharp thrust. “Think you can do that for me?”
You nod, unable to get words out.
With that, he rolls you both over, settling back and admiring the way you sit on his cock.
“Come on, now. Be a good girl n’ bounce on me.” He encouraged, hands moving to rest behind his head.
You whimper as you attempt to ride him, sliding up and down. Every move was electric. The sight of him beneath you, the way his muscles flexed under your hands with every move. It was almost too overwhelming to continue.
“Oh, Arthur, I don’t know if I can.”
“You’re doin’ so good.” He cooed. “Keep going, you got it.”
You keep riding him. It wasn’t very fast as you were still trying to get the hang of it, but lord was it incredible. You landed with a wet plap every time. It made Arthur’s eyelids grow heavy, trying everything in his power to keep them open and watch how beautiful you looked.
“That’s it.” He groans. “Keep on ridin’ me just like that!”
Your thighs were starting to burn. While your body moved on its own, possessed by the need to cum again, you weren’t sure how you were going to keep this up.
“Oh, Arthur. I can’t.” You whimper between moans.
“That’s okay- ngh ngh, j-just a little more, alright? Then I’ll make ya cum nice n’ hard just like you did earlier.”
You bite your lip and nod. He grabs your hips to help you, bringing you up and yanking you down. Your head fell back as you moaned.
You were losing speed, he knew it. So, he flips you both back over. Without wasting a second, he pistons in and out of you frantically.
“Y-you did s-so good, ridin’ me like that. ‘M gonna give you the best reward, now, okay?”
“Yes! Ahh! Don’t stop!” Your nails scratch at his back.
Arthur was gasping and grunting with each snap of his hips, the pleasure building inside between you.
“You feel so damn good." He growled, each word punctuated by a hard thrust.
His hand reached between you, his fingers finding your clit and starting to circle it roughly, adding to the waves of pleasure. The other hand hitched your legs higher on his waist, allowing him to get even deeper. You swore his cock was up in your chest with how deep he was.
“There we go,” He grunts, fixated on the way your face twisted with pleasure. His balls slap against your ass with every animalistic thrust.
“More, Arthur! I wanna cum again!” You plead between cries.
Your pussy squeezed his thick cock the closer you got. Every slam of his hips had moans rolling off your tongue. He was a possessed man, needing you more than air. He’d give you anything you needed to make you feel good.
“Look at ya, ‘bout to cum all over my cock.” Your legs shake around his hips now. “Just this morning, you were being a proper little lady of society. Remember that? N-now you’re fucking begging for my cock. Begging me to make you cum. Is that right?”
“Mhm,” you whimpered.
He drove into you like a mad man. “Cum for me- oh fuck!”
You came instantly, screaming his name and throbbing around his cock. Arthur didn’t last another second, cumming right after you. His body shuddered, muscles clenched, and a deep groan escaped his lips as he came deep in you. He kept fucking, slower now, just helping you enjoy those last waves of pleasure.
As you come back to reality, you hear your labored breaths and the distant, muffled music from downstairs. A low groan escapes when Arthur pulls out, the ache in your muscles reminding you just how worth it it was.
He lays down beside you, an arm looping around your waist to pull you against his still-heaving chest. His voice is gentler, but hoarse, now. “You holdin’ up alright?”
You nod, letting yourself melt into the warmth of him for a moment longer than you probably should. But then it hits you. The time.
“Oh, goodness!” You bolt upright, eyes darting around for a clock. “What time is it? I gotta get home before my daddy finds out-”
Arthur only chuckles, catching your wrist and tugging you back down to his chest. “I got it covered.”
“You- what? Arthur, I’m serious.”
He smirks, tracing lazy circles on your arm. “My friends are out distractin’ him. I told ’em to stir up trouble on the outskirts of town. Your daddy’ll be plenty busy tonight and into the mornin’.”
You look at him in awe. “You set that up?”
He hums, leaning in to kiss you. “They owed me a favor or two.”
Part 2
A/N: TY again for 1000 followers! I’ll be redoing my taglists after kinktober so if you’d like to be on an Everything list or Arthur list lmk!
Dividers: @strangergraphics
Kinktober 2025 Tag List: @plu0725 @iristheplanet16
Permanent Tag List: @what-iwish-you-knew @infuriatinglyoptimistic @harriedandharassed
Warning: Fluff, alcohol but not drunk, talk of drugs, John Walker, SMUT (piv, first time, switch-ish!bob, multiple orgasms), no y/n
Word Count: 3,700+
Summary: You and Bob have been dating for a few months now. It’s been slow and sweet, but you’re both ready for more. Except you’re only now finding out Bob is a virgin.
A/N: I know! I’m back from the dead! The AO3 curse hit me hard, work has been a bitch and my laptop died on me several months ago. Until I can afford a new one, everything will be done on my phone, so I apologize in advance. For this kinktober, I’ll be taking requests as well so if you have anything you’d like to see, lmk!
Since you started dating Bob, Friday nights were almost always spent at the bar. It was a fun way to unwind after long weeks of training and missions. You and Bob rarely got drunk, just drank enough to convince each other you were comedians, and still be able to walk back to the Watchtower at the end of the night. It was one of the few ways that loosened him up. That and meth. But after you experienced what he was like, first hand in The Void via a chicken slamming a sign into your face—drugs were off the table.
It was now 1:30am, you and Bob couldn’t stop laughing at the memory of John getting jump scared by Bucky’s arm in the dishwasher yesterday. Breathless from the laughing, you collapse onto your boyfriend’s chest, laying together on the couch of the common room. Bob’s chest rumbled as he remembered the shriek that left John’s lips. His sweater still smelled like the Margarita he spilled earlier.
His hand slipped under your top, rubbing your lower back. “You think we could put Bucky’s arm in his bed?”
You grinned at the idea and pressed soft kisses above the sweater’s neckline. “I have no doubt I could get it in there, but there’s no fucking way we can convince Bucky to lend us his arm.”
He tilts his head back against one of the throw pillows, giving you more room to kiss his neck. “You’re sneaky. Take it while he’s sleeping.”
That pulled a snort out of you. You push up enough to meet those hypnotic blue eyes of his. “With those super soldier reflexes?! You’re gonna get me killed.”
His lips curved just slightly. “I’d save you.” He says in that deep voice of his, instantly making your heart race.
You shake your head and lean in, molding your lips together. He’s quick to lick at your lips, begging for entrance. There’s no way you could resist, so you part your lips. The fruity alcohol taste was still prominent, making him hum. The hand up your shirt pulls you closer to his chest. He had a habit of holding you as close as possible while you kissed. Like he wanted to be consumed by it, and forget the world even exists beyond your lips.
“Oh god!” John’s disgust ruins the moment.
Sighing in defeat against Bob’s lips, you slowly part, a string of saliva still connected before snapping. You look up at the older blonde man standing in his flannel pajamas with an empty Avengerz water bottle in hand. (Alexei had them made for everyone). He looked at you two in disgust as if he actually caught you fucking. Granted, he always gave you two that face, but it was still an overreaction. From the moment he first caught Bob subtly checking you out, he’s kept that same level of disgust.
“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” You look at the clock on the wall.
”I ran out of water.” He holds up the bottle, shaking it to prove there’s nothing inside.
You and Bob roll your eyes and move to sit up. Bob adjusting his pants as discreetly as possible. While you didn’t notice, John sure did.
“I don’t care what you do, just don’t do it where I watch football.” He shivers at the thought, heading to the fridge to fill up his bottle.
“Oh no- we- no we weren’t- no-“ Bob stutters.
“Jesus.” You groan at his insinuation.
“Hey, if you wanna lose your virginity, just don’t do it where we all hang out. That’s all I'm saying!”
You quirk your head in confusion. You’ve talked about the hilariously unfortunate college hook ups you’ve had. “I’m not a virgin.”
John looks up at you two, pausing refilling his water. “Yeah I know. I’m talking about freak-o.”
You let out a humored scoff. “Bob’s not-” You immediately notice the red on his face and lack of eye contact. All the confidence the margaritas gave him were gone. “Bob?”
He opens his mouth to speak but is immediately cut off by John’s snickering.
“You didn’t actually think he wasn’t a virgin. I mean… Come on!” He gestures to Bob.
“Are you?” You ask softly, not wanting him to think you're judging him or upset.
“Y-yeah.” He mutters, focusing on his fingers playing with a loose thread of his sweater.
Your mind was truly blown. He’s sweet and kind plus… look at him. You’ve seen him shirtless a handful of times, how is it possible that no one’s taken THAT for a ride.
“What about college?”
He scratches his head, barely making eye contact with you. “I was a little too busy… mething around.” He gave you the sweetest guilty face.
“Oh my god.” You stare at him in awe. When his face starts to fall you quickly do damage control. “That’s not a bad thing! I’m just… surprised.”
“I’m not.”
You shoot John a glare. “Why are you still here? Go! Shoo!”
John threw his hands up in defense, silently exiting. Once he was finally gone and you could hear the distant click of his door down the hall, you returned your attention to Bob.
“You never told me.”
“Well, it’s not exactly something I’m all too proud of. I’ve heard you talking about how good or bad those guys you used to date were. Meanwhile, I’m like a thirty year old virgin.” He sighs, slumps into the couch.
It’s silent for a moment, giving him some time to wallow and for you to process.
“You’ve been through a lot of shit. It’s not that crazy, all things considered.” You reach up to play with his hair as he massages his temples.
“I don’t know how to live up to your expectations.” He seemed truly troubled by it. By the idea of not being good enough for you. Not being able to give you what you deserve.
It was ridiculous, though. Memories of the thousand make out sessions you two have had, play in your head. How he takes his time on your neck and collarbone, wanting you to feel good. How he ruts against you when things get heated, but ultimately ends with him panicking and running to his room to take a cold shower. It made sense though— all those times your steamy moments were cut short.
“I’ll show you.”
His body seems to stiffen up in shock. “Show me?” His head slowly turns to face you.
“Yeah.“ A smirk curls onto your lips. “Do you want to?”
“Wa-want to what?” His adam's apple bobs as he starts to fidget again. The alcohol seemed to be long gone now, his shy and nervous ticks made that apparent.
“Let me take your virginity. If you want to, I’ll show you, teach you.”
“Like… now?” You shrug giving him the option. His hand snakes back around your waist, resting on ur hips, his thumbs brushing the skin between the hem of your shirt and jeans. “I wouldn’t mind now.” He looks into your eyes gauging if you felt the same or if he was being a fool once again.
You stand from the couch, taking his hands into your smaller ones and lead him out of the common area and into the halls. “Your room or mine?”
“Yours. Your room.” He sounded almost breathless at the thought of being surrounded by your smell in that big soft bed of yours, listening to your moans.
Your room was dark, only lit by that glowing New York skyline. You maneuver Bob to your bed, urging him to lay down in the middle.
“But- what about you? I want to make sure you feel good first.” His hands greedily reach out and grab your hips, looking desperate to peel those jeans off.
“I know.” Your voice had dropped into a seductive tone, making his pants immediately tight again. “I’ll teach you how to eat me out another day. I wanna show you what a real pussy feels like first.”
A desperate groan escapes his lips at your words and the way you nipped his jaw. Your warm fingertips slide down his chest, enjoying the grooves of his muscles underneath. Once they reach the hem, they slide under the fabric. His abs instinctively flex at your touch.
“Shit.” He sighs, his hips bucking upward for any sort of relief. “Fuck, I need you.” He tugs your hips down, moaning at the way your ass presses against his hard-on.
“Clothes.” Is all you’re able to mumble while you hastily work to take his sweater off.
Bob followed, sitting up to make it easier for you before yanking your top off. “Can I?” His fingers toy with the claps of your bra.
“Please do.” You watch his eyes, eager for his reaction. This was the farthest you two have ever gone.
He fumbled with undoing the claps, getting obviously frustrated. You couldn't help but giggle. “Need help?”
“No. I’ll just-“ The clasps snap as he tears it apart. “buy you a new one.”
In the blink of an eye, your bra was dangling off of the lamp by your desk. He looked mesmerized by your breasts. You’ve had sex a handful of times, but no one has ever looked at your body they way he is now. Like an artist admiring a sculpture or a religious man worshiping a goddess. His touch was so delicate, hands roaming across your torso, and landing on your chest. He carefully squeezes them and rolls his thumb over your nipple making your breath hitch and walls clench. The reaction surprised him. How something so simple could make you react in such a way.
“Fuck.” He whispers breathless. He needs more.
His lips latch onto your nipple, tongue caressing and flicking at the hardening bud. Your fingers thread into his hair making him groan. As he continues to worship your breasts, you reach down, undoing his belt and tossing it aside. His hands leave your torso and quickly undo your jeans.
The movements were careful yet desperate. Once all the buttons and zippers were undone, Bob lifts his hips, shoving his pants and boxers down in one go. You did the same, taking off your jeans and soaked panties, unable to wait much longer. After, you settled back onto his lap and pressed your hands to his pecks, urging him to lay back.
His eyes focused on how the tip of his cock brushed against your pussy. The precum mixes with your wetness with each twitch of his cock. Every ounce of his body craved you. He craved your taste, your moans, your warm cunt to throb around his cock.
“Fuck- please. I need it.”
“Yeah?” You coo, loving how desperately he longs for your pussy.
“Yeah. Yeah.” His hands kneed your thighs and hips as he tried to hold back from pulling you down on him.
How could you possibly resist? You start to sink down, his thick tip splitting you into two.
Bob’s head falls back and a long moan rolls out. “NGH, you're squeezing me so tight.” You had to stop a third of the way down to adjust to his size.He looks back to you, wondering why you stopped. “You alright?”
“Just need a sec.” You take a few deep breaths letting the aching of your stretched walls subside. The thickness of his cock was unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. In hindsight, you probably should have let him finger you first, but you couldn’t possibly stop now.
His eyes flicker back down to your pussy and how your slick drips down his shaft. His thumb moves to your pussy, finding your clit, and rubbing tight circles. He groans when you tighten around him again.
“This alright?”
You nod in response, letting your eyes flutter shut. It felt incredible being stretched by his cock while he played with your clit, sending sparks of pleasure throughout you.
He grins at your reaction. “You like it when I touch you like this?”
Your cheeks heat at how he sounded. It reminded you of The Void. “Oh, god, yes. Keep going.” You begin to sink down again, slowly taking each inch until you’ve bottomed out. Gasps and groans escape both your lips once you're fully settled. You felt so full.
You move to slide up the shaft when he grabs your hips, halting your movements. “Don’t. Don’t.” He growls through gritted teeth. “Can’t- can’t come yet.” The way he panted as he held back an orgasm made you smirk with pride.
“Just tell me when.” You lean down to kiss and nip at his neck, basking in his labored breaths.
“I can’t believe I’m having sex. You feel so good. God, your pussy’s so warm and tight.” Bob’s voice shook, overwhelmed by it all.
Feeling like he can handle it, he starts to lift you off his cock, leaving only the tip in. You let him decide how to go from here. Feeling more confident, now, he yanks you down, knocking the air out of both your lungs.
That’s all it took to become addicted. “More.” He growls, pushing your hips up again.
You take over now, repeating the moves, sliding up to the tip and back down. It was a sweet steady pace. Not too slow, but fuck did it sure did hit deep. Your hands press firm to his chest, helping you grind down between bouncing intervals. Your clit dragged perfectly against his pelvis.
“Oh my god, oh my god!” The groans and whimpers that came out of him only gave you more confidence. With one hand on your hip and the other on your ass, Bob helped you move. “That’s it. Look at you.” His tone was deep and sweet as honey. He watched how your jaw dropped allowing high pitched moans to escape. “So beautiful.”
You felt him shift under you. His feet planted on the blankets and he gave you a sharp thrust. Your whole body jolted when he hit that spot inside of you.
His heavy lidded eyes flared at your reaction. “Did I find it?” He paused.
“Mhm.” Is all you’re able to whimper out, still shocked by the surge of pleasure.
A smile grows on his lips. Getting a better grip on your hips, he starts thrusting up into you at a brutal pace, balls slapping your ass. He bounces you on his cock, causing you to babble his name and various syllables that didn’t even form a word.
“Agh! Bob- ngh!” You moan and start meeting his thrusts as best you can.
His cock felt as if it were up in your chest with how deep and hard each thrust was. He couldn’t stop pounding into you, it was like he was possessed.
“Sounds so pretty. Keep moaning for me.” He begged. “Yeah, like that. That’s it. Keep going, keep going.”
You didn’t hold back, letting out cries as he wildly bucked up into you. That knot of bliss started to tighten in his core. He didn’t want it to be over. It was all too good to end.
You felt it too. “Bob,” you mewled. “Right there Bob! Ohhh, you’re fucking me so good! I wanna cum.” One of your hands on his chests lurches forward, grabbing onto the top of the headboard, using it for leverage. You fucked back, wet plaping sounds filling the room. The bed squeaked and creaked more with each move, only adding to the noise you two were making.
“N-not gonna last.” He chokes out, trying to hold his breath to keep from cumming.
You swear if you gripped even slightly harder on the headboard, it would splinter into a million pieces. “I’m gonna cum!” Unabolished moans spilled from your lips as you balanced on the edge of bliss.
Bob’s fingers dig into your skin. “Can I- NGH! Inside?”
“I’m on the pill.” Somehow he fucked you even harder with your confirmation.
The way your pussy clenched around him and the sloppy sounds of your riding was too much to handle. Luckily, he was able to hold off just long enough for you to come first. When you do, it’s perfect. The sounds you made were pornographic.
The throbbing of your pussy was impossible to withstand. Bob came just a second later. His face contorted in ecstasy, lips parting for deep moans to escape. You lean down, lazily kissing the corner of his lips and his cheeks while you ride out our highs as long as possible.
“How was tha-“
“I need more.” He’d yet to catch his breath before he lunched forward and pushed you onto your back, his cock never leaving your still spasming pussy. “One more? You can give me one more right? Please.”
You couldn’t believe his reaction. Before you could even finish nodding, he was fucking you like his life depended on it. His thrusts were sloppy, uneven, desperate. Your nails dig into his back, trying to brace yourself.
“Bob!” You moaned his name like it was the only word you knew, and at this second, that was true.
“You sound so perfect.”
He grabs the back of your knees, pushing them to your chest, making you yelp at the new, incredible angle. Your pussy squelched louder like this.
“Perfect, so perfect-NGH- so- so fucking good- UGNH!”
“Bob!”
You weren’t going to last another minute. With this position, you could watch his fat cock pistoning in and out of you recklessly. Both your cum painted across your pussy and his cock, no doubtably ruining the blankets under you.
He notices you look away and his eyes follow yours. “Fuck.” His tone shivers. “Look at that. You look so pretty with me inside you. Take so much of me. Watch your pussy squeeze my cock.”
His abs flexed more as he got to the edge again. He rolled his hopes with more precision to make sure he was hitting your g-spot.
“‘M gonna cum. You ready? Please tell me you’re ready.” He looks back to your half-lidded eyes.
You were so grateful he was ready, you weren’t sure if you could keep holding out anymore. “Yes! Yes! Bob! Oh!” One hand tangled in his hair, tugging while the other clawed at his back.
Your vision blurs as you cum together. Your body convulsed as your orgasm ripped through you, more violently than it did the first time. It was unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.
Bob collapses on top of you, still grinding into you, riding out the climax. He didn’t want the moment to end. You looked and sounded perfect, whimpering into his ear. If he had the strength to keep going, he would, but his body protested.
“That was better than Meth.” His voice was raw and exhausted. “You okay?”
“Mhm.” You wince as he lets go of your thighs, allowing them to fall back to the bed.
“Sorry.” His hands rub your thighs to soothe them.
“Don’t ever apologize.” You smiled a giddy smile and kissed his hair, before he reluctantly pulled out. “How was your first time?”
Bob wrapped his arms around you, readjusting you to lay on the pillow. “If I had you during college instead of meth, I think I would have been in a much better place.” He chuckled.
You laughed and closed your eyes, leaning back into his arms.
“Wanna take a nap and try again after?” His fingers drew shapes into your skin.
“Absolutely.”
Next morning… or afternoon.
You and Bob had a late start to your Saturday. Around 3 or 4am you went for another round then passed out. When you two finally woke up at 10:45, there was no resisting each other. After that, you laid in bed together, chatting and laughing about dumb shit. Unable to part from you, Bob eventually followed you into your en-suite bathroom to shower and well… we can all guess how that went. So by the end, it was already 1:30pm.
Starved, you and Bob finally emerged from your room. You could smell lunch cooking from the kitchen. It was loud like always. Food sizzling in a pan, knives chopping against wooden cutting boards, and laughter amidst banter. When you walked into the kitchen, however, it was silent.
John looked horrified, the knives suddenly looked fascinating to Bucky, Ava forced her lips seemingly holding back a laugh, and Yelena held her a smirk while Alexei didn’t even bother to.
“Why’s it so uncomfortable in here?” Bob broke the silence.
You grimaced, having already caught on, and awkwardly walked to the counter to help yourself to the buffet of food John made.
“This isn’t awkward at all.” Ava smirks and goes back to cutting the vegetables.
Both of Alexei’s hands came down to smack his thighs and he jumped up from the couch. “It is never awkward or uncomfortable for a boy to become a man!” He strides over and pats him on the back.
“Oh, god, Alexei, please.” You cringe and shake your head, begging him to shut the fuck up.
Bob quickly went red with humiliation as it settled in.
“Look, I’m sex positive or whatever they call it, but I don’t want to hear it.” John claps the metal tongs at you two.
“It’s natural!” Alexei’s voice boomed as he argued.
“No. It’s disgusting.”
“Hold on!” You groan. “Our rooms are soundproof, okay. You’re all being dramatic.”
They break out into a symphony of laughter, making you all the more irritated.
“Yes, yes, that’s true.” Yelena said as she caught her breath from laughing. “If me and Ava were having a conversation. No one would hear-“
“But if you two are screaming and banging the bed against the wall- MY WALL, then it doesn’t really work, does it?!” John snapped.
“Good for you, though.” Ava gives you a thumbs up, very excited to hear all the details later.
“Do not listen, John does not know what he is talking about. The sex is good for the health and the soul. It should be celebrated!” Alexei buds in again, only making things all the more awkward.
This was horrifying to say the least. With your face now on fire, you quickly load your plate with food and rush back to Bob who’s short circuiting from embarrassment in the doorway.
“Duly noted.” You grab Bob’s arm with your free hand to drag him away.
“S-sorry won’t happen again!” He yelled out before you yanked him back down the hall to hide in your room.
It did, in fact, happen again… and again… and any time John was even the slightest bit annoying.
A/N: I lost my kinktober virginity with this fic. Ain’t that poetic?
Part 1 | Masterlist | 12 Days of Ficmas Masterlist
Warning: reader has a southern accent bc why not, fluff, SMUT (corruption kink, public sex, cowgirl, piv, dirty talk)
Word Count: 3,100+
Request: “Ik this is for your kinktober lost but I NEEDDD a part two, maybe a series on how he corrupts the reader more? Or some angst where [spoilers]” - @forverlostinspace
Summary: A secret relationship between the Sheriff’s precious daughter and an outlaw? What could go wrong?
A/N: yall can thank @forverlostinspace for this! if it wasn’t for this goddess, there wouldn’t be a part 2… or part 3👀. And yes, I did get on RDR and walk around Valentine for the sole purpose of finding smut scene locations:)
It had been a few weeks since you and Arthur started courting in secret. You felt like a proper sinner for it—slipping out after dark, meeting him on the edge of town, letting him steal you away to do some proper sinning. Nights typically lead to a cozy hotel room where he’d teach you to be a real cowgirl.
Although, he had left a few days ago for a train job up north with the promise he’d be back by today. So, here you were at three in the afternoon, on your way to the barn where he said he’d meet you. You stepped carefully, boots sinking slightly into the mud left behind by the light snowfall earlier in the week. When you reached your spot, you slowed scanned the shadows.
He wasn’t there.
You frowned—then heard a faint but unmistakable voice.
“Awh, come on, old man!”
You followed the sound toward Main Street. A laugh slipped out of you before you could stop it.
Your father already had Arthur pinned against a post, one hand holding him in place while the other tied his wrists. Arthur grimaced, trying and failing to wriggle free.
“You’ve got yourself a real talent for this,” your father said dryly. “Quite the bounty on you. Again.” He gave the rope a final tug. “Best you get your friends to come pay it b’fore I hang ya.”
Arthur bickered with your old man as he was hauled down the street and into the law office.
You followed, calming your grin into a neutral expression. The cell door clanged shut just as you stepped inside.
“Afternoon, Daddy,” you said sweetly.
Arthur’s head snapped up. The look on his face made your chest ache—you could practically see his pupils forming into hearts. Anyone would’ve thought he’d been gone months, not days.
“Oh,” your father sighed, already distracted. “Hey there, sweet pea. What can I do ya for?”
You didn’t miss a beat. “Saw a couple men trading something suspicious between the station and water tower. Thought you oughta know before they scatter.”
That got his attention. “Goddamn it.” He grabbed his hat. “Nice work, deputy.” He squeezed your arm with a playful wink and then he was gone, boots pounding down the boardwalk.
The office fell quiet.
Slowly, you turned back to the cell.
Arthur stood there with his hands tied behind him, leaning just slightly forward, a crooked grin tugging at his mouth like he couldn’t help himself.
You stepped closer to the bars.
“I missed ya,” you murmured.
“Did ya now?” he said, teasing and low. His eyes darkened as he stepped closer to the bars, looming just enough to make your pulse jump.
“Sure did.”
He tilted his head. “There actually any suspicious men out there, darlin’?”
You shook your head, unable to hide your grin. “No.”
A soft huff of laughter left him. “Well, seems I’ve been an awfully poor influence on ya.”
You glanced toward the door. “We got a few minutes, though.”
That was all it took.
Your lips met between the bars—quick at first, then urgent. You cupped his face with your gloved hands, feeling the rough scrape of beard. He pulled against the rope instinctively, frustrated by it, by the metal between you, by how close and yet how far you were. The kiss deepened anyway like neither of you quite knew how to stop once it started.
When you finally pulled back, breathless, your forehead rested against his. “You unharmed?” you asked quietly, eyes scanning him for any sign of injury.
“I’m fine, darlin’.” He leaned forward just enough to press a kiss to your brow, gentle now.
You hesitated. “I could ride out to camp. Get Mr. Van der Linde for ya.”
Arthur had snuck you out there once, before he left. It was a small and fast glimpse into his world—the world you’d started to grow all the more curious about.
His expression sobered. “Nah. Too dangerous.”
“It ain’t far.”
“It also ain’t worth the risk.” There was no teasing in his voice this time. “Charles’ll probably come for me this evenin’. He’s probably hunting nearby. He knows to check the jailhouse before heading back to camp.”
You frowned despite yourself. “And what about our date?”
His smile came back. “Oh, I’ll make it up to ya. Don’t you worry ‘bout that.” He leaned in again, pressing his cheekbone to the cold metal, stealing one last kiss like it might tide him over. “Now go. ‘Fore ya get caught.”
He nipped your lower lip lightly before stepping back, straightening as though none of it had happened.
“See ya later, darlin’.”
After a few hours of wandering the shops and killing time, you spotted Charles riding down Main Street, headed straight for the jail. You drifted toward the gunsmith’s porch and leaned against one of the posts, pretending to people watch while you waited.
It didn’t take long.
The two men stepped out together. Arthur adjusted his gun belt, checking his holster as he muttered complaints of how much he hated your father. Charles only shook his head, patient as ever.
Then he looked up.
The moment his eyes found you, they lit up. Charles followed his gaze, huffed a quiet laugh, and clapped Arthur on the shoulder before heading off.
Arthur crossed the muddy street without a moment of hesitation.
“There’s my girl,” he said, cupping your face like he’d been waiting all day to do just that.
“Arthur,” you hissed, glancing toward the jail window. You tried to tuck yourself closer, half-hidden behind his broad shoulders. “My daddy’s right there.”
“I know, I know,” he said, not letting go. “Just- damn. Been a shit week without my lady.”
You felt it, like you always did—the way a single look from him could undo you. He pulled one hand back, patting at his belt and pockets. “Reminds me. I gotcha somethin’.”
When he pressed the chain into your palm, your breath caught.
“It’s… it’s beautiful. Goodness, this must have cost a fortune. Where’d you get it?”
He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly shy. “I stole it.”
You arched a brow. “The owner ain’t gonna come lookin’?”
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head ’bout that.”
Your eyes narrowed as you inspected it more closely for blood. “Arthur Morgan, this ain’t off a corpse, is it?”
“What? No!” He looked genuinely offended. “Train job, remember? Some rich heiress’s things. When I saw it, though…” His voice softened. “Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about how it’d look on you. Damn near got us caught goin’ back for it. Micah wouldn’t shut up the whole ride, swearin’ I’d get him hung.”
You rose onto your toes and kissed his cheek before you could think better of it. “I love it. Thank you.”
His smile turned helpless. “It- it ain’t nothin’.”
Then his eyes lit again. “Oh. I hope ya don’t mind.” He opened the small heart-shaped pendant. Inside, your initials were carved into the metal—uneven, jagged, unmistakably his.
“I did it late one night,” he added quietly. “I hope that's okay. In hindsight, I probably ruined the damn gift. I- I can get ya a new one- better one. One that ain’t stolen.”
“Don’t you dare get me another necklace.” Your chest tightened as you admired it. It wasn’t perfect. That was the point. “I’m strugglin’ not to kiss ya silly right now.”
His worries melted away as he let himself be proud of his work. “May I?”
You turned, letting him take it. The cold chain brushed your skin as he fastened it, his fingers lingering longer than necessary. When you faced him again, you touched the locket once, reverent.
“How’s it look?”
“Beautiful,” he said, low—eye lids drooping as he took you in. “Just how I imagined.” He stared too long. Like he was memorizing you.
“You losin’ yourself there, lover boy?” you teased.
“I need you.”
“Arthur,” you warned, barely above a whisper. “You can’t just say things like that in public-”
He grabbed your wrist and pulled you down the shaded alley beside the gunsmith, pressing you back against the rough wooden wall before his mouth found yours. The kiss wasn't slow this time, but hungry. His hands slid along your sides, loving the way you shiver at his touch. When you felt the hem of your dress rise up to your calf, you broke away.
“Darlin’,” you scolded softly.
That only made him bury his face into your neck, breathing you in and making you whimper. He kissed and sucked your skin but without leaving a trace—no matter how much he wanted to.
“My daddy’s across the street,” you murmured. “He’ll see.”
He groaned against your throat. “So?”
“You know better.”
With a frustrated sigh, he pulled back just enough to look at you. “He won’t,” he muttered, already guiding you farther back, toward a stack of crates tucked behind the building. And you followed, heart racing, knowing you probably shouldn’t.
He dropped onto one of the crates and pulled you with him, settling you squarely in his lap. Dusk was coming on quick now, the sun slipping low enough that most folks were already drifting home—or toward the saloons—too tired or distracted to pay any mind to what was tucked behind the gunsmith.
“I missed you so damn much,” he said, like it hurt to admit.
His mouth found yours again, harder this time. One hand cradled your cheek, thumb brushing your skin with an almost reverent familiarity, while the other held your hips, drawing you closer without apology. You felt the tension in him—the restraint he’d been holding all day finally fraying now that he had you.
You kissed him back just as fiercely, fingers curling into his coat, heart pounding with the knowledge of where you were and how little room for mistakes there was. Every sound felt louder. Every second sharper.
“Dreamt of your pretty pussy every night.” He growls into your ear, bucking his hips up for you to feel how hard he was through his trousers.
“We can’t do this here.” You said, no matter how much you desperately want to.
“Why not?” He nipped at your ear lobe while his hand snakes up your skirt. A smile curls on his lips. “What’s this?”
Your cheats heat up when you’re quickly reminded of your missing undergarments. On date nights, you and Arthur typically had a limited amount of time, so going without undergarments worked wonders—hence the lack of any today.
“My father gets out of work early today, I didn’t want to risk it.” You say bashfully.
“You’re soaked too, darlin’.” He coos, allowing a finger to brush through your folds before retracting. The metal of his belt clinks as he undoes it. “This pussy’s just beggin’ to be used, huh?” He pulls his cock from his pants. His tip presses against your clit, letting your slick and his precum mix.
You lift your hips, allowing his cock to slide back against your pussy, nudging your entrance. “You sure about this? We ain’t gonna get caught?”
“We’ll be perfectly fine. I wouldn’t let anything happen to ya.” He presses a reassuring kiss to your lips.
With a small surge of confidence, you start to sink down. You’ve only had sex a few times, each time being gentle and in a cozy bed. This felt new—dangerous, even.
Arthur winces as you take each inch. “Ngh. That pussy of yours is grippin’ me darlin’.” He groaned. “Takin’ it all so good.”
It takes a good minute until you’re fully settled, his cock nuzzled deep inside, stretching you full. He knew you were a bit nervous to ride him. You practice a bit on occasion, but he always takes back over.
“You got it.” He kisses your cheek and holds your hips, assuring you, you’re in good hands.
Slowly, you slide up to his tip and back down, carefully coating him in your juices and reacquainting yourself with his girth. After doing this a few times, you’re ready. You get a bit faster, finding a rhythm.
“You’re doin’ it. Look at cha, ridin’ my cock.” He was so proud of you.
“Ohhh, Arthur.” Deep moans escape you.
To keep quiet, you keep your mouth busy, finding the junction between his neck and shoulder and biting and kissing it. While you could be marked, Arthur could, and you took advantage of that.
“Mmmm,” he growled. “What would- ngh- Valentine think of you. The sheriff's precious daughter ridin’ an outlaw in an alley?”
“You’ve ruined me, Arthur.” Your fingers fiddle with his shirt button to get better access to his chest.
The button pops free, allowing you to tug the shirt to the side and litter kisses across the skin above his heart. He moans, loving the way you undeniably need him. You rock against him, his pelvis grinding against your clit the way you need.
A rough hand snakes up your back and to your hair, tugging your head back for him to admire you. “Such a mess for me, ain’t ya?”
You nod as you start bouncing on him. A soft, wet plapping sound could be heard under your skirt.
Arthur groans each time your warm, soaking cunt engulfs him. His arms wrap around your torso, holding you close while he kisses your collar bone. With heavy eyes, he watches the heart shaped locket bounce and jingle against your chest.
“That’s it. Mmm- fuck! That’s my girl.” He growls out between kisses to your skin and locket.
One of his hands cups your breast while his lips kiss any cleavage he could find. Needing more, he hooks his fingers on the material and yanks it down, exposing more of those breasts he adores.
Your head falls back and a desperate whine escapes you. The slam of his cock against your g-spot had you seeing stars. Luckily the piano and chatter of the saloon are loud enough to drown out your noises so that only Arthur could hear you.
Your thighs burn and knees bruise against the wood as you continue to bounce on his cock. Over and over, you take each inch—running on the overwhelming pleasure. You could never get enough of that sweet burn of his thick cock stretching your pussy or the gruff grunts and growls he makes.
Arthur takes a break from worshiping your breasts to admire you—your furrowed brows, parted lips that let out the sweetest of noises. Nothing was more beautiful than this.
“You’re d-doing so good for me.” He reaches up, grabbing his hat and pressing it down on your head. “My cowgirl.”
Both of your highs crept up on you. The knot in your cores tightened more and more. He knew your thighs were tired, so he grabbed your hips, helping bounce you.
“Oh, yes!” You gasped, pleasure making your vision blurry. “Right there!”
His cock ached, swelling with his impending orgasm. “Just like that! Ngh! Shit!”
“A-Arthur- ungh, I’m gonna cum!” You whimpered, desperately humping his cock, feeling it kiss your sweet spot.
“Cum for me.” He managed to say through gritted teeth as he used every muscle to hold his cum back. “Fuck! Cum all over my cock!”
Your release hit you. Your gloved hands dig into his biceps. The walls of your cunt squeeze and throb around Arthur’s aching cock, triggering his. He instantly came, moaning broken curses and your name as he grinded his cock up into you. You could feel the warmth of his cum flood your pussy and dribble down his balls. The aftershocks continue as you slowly rock together, basking in the moment and catching your breaths.
By the time you both come back to reality, you realize the sun is practically gone, left with a pink and purple sky.
“You’re a goddamn treasure, darlin’.” Arthur’s raspy voice says before he gives you a tender and meaningful kiss.
After you both take a minute to pull yourselves together, reluctantly giving him his hat back, and clean up—minus the cum that occasionally drips down your thighs—Arthur walks you home. Once your house comes into view, you notice the lights are on. He stops and steered you toward the old tree where your father can’t see him through the windows. He knows the routine by now.
He takes your delicate gloved hands in his hands. The same ones that had choked a man out just a day ago.
“You gonna be available tomorrow?” he asks, almost shy.
“For you?” You smile. “Always.”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “Good. Got plenty more things I gotta teach ya.”
His fingers toy with the tip of your right glove before tugging it off.
“Arthur, give it back,” you huff, holding your hand out as he tucks it into his gun belt.
“What? Why?”
“You’ve got a whole collection goin’. I’m startin’ to run out.”
He takes your bare hand, lifting it to his mouth. “And when you do,” he says softly, pressing a kiss into your palm, “I’ll buy you more.”
“You’re terrible,” you say, but there’s no real heat in it.
“Won’t be sayin’ that tomorrow.” He murmurs it into your skin before letting go. “Run along now. ’Fore your daddy comes lookin’.” He gives your rear a playful pat, earning a quiet snicker as you step away.
“See ya tomorrow, cowboy.”
You follow the dirt path, climb the porch steps, and step inside. Cigar smoke greets you immediately.
“Is that my precious little girl?” your father calls from the sitting room.
You pause at the mirror by the door, fingers brushing the locket at your throat. The heart rests warm against your skin.
“Yes, Daddy,” you say calmly. “Just me. Don’t you worry.”
You adjust the pendant carefully, making sure it’s centered, then force yourself to move down the hall toward the stairs.
That’s when you catch sight of them.
Too many people. Two men and a woman, seated comfortably in the living room like they belong there. You straighten instinctively.
Your father beams. “Don’t be rude. Come greet our guests.”
You want nothing more than to disappear upstairs—to change, to wash away the faint traces of cigarette smoke, leather, pine. Arthur. The scent no respectable woman should carry. Not to mention the mess between your thighs.
One of the men rises from the couch with a stiff posture. He adjusts his suit jacket and extends his hand.
Your stomach sinks.
Your right glove is gone.
Your father notices at the same moment you do. His eyes flick to your bare hand. You move quickly, offering the gloved one instead. The man takes it and presses a kiss to your knuckles.
You paste on a smile. “What do we owe the pleasure?”
“I’m glad you asked, sweetheart.” Your father stands, clearing his throat. “I figured it was about time you met your future husband. Edward.”
Your heart stopped beating for a moment.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, miss,” Edward says, still holding your hand.
Your pulse roars in your ears. For a brief, foolish moment, you try to convince yourself this is a dream.
“H-husband?”
Chapter 3
A/N: Sorry for the delay, I hope it was worth the wait! If there are any other ways of corruption you wanna see lmk too!🤭
12 Days of Ficmas Tag List: @imdoingitareyou @art3mis989 @plu0725 @opposite-of-risky
Warnings: Fluff, SMUT (sub!bob vibes, hickies, cums early in pants, oral f receiving, multiple orgasms, some overstimulation)
Word Count: 3,500+
Request: Could you make a Bob Floyd one please! Could it either be mark kink (like hickies/Bite marks) or coming in pants (or both of those👀) @iristheplanet16
Summary: You and Bob didn’t expect movie night to end with him cumming early, but he desperately wants to make up for it.
A/N: I love taking request! I hope i was able to capture your vision, iris!
The early stages of a relationship are always the best—the nerves while getting ready for a date, the butterflies, the ridiculous moments when you’re a full-ass adult but still overthinking a kiss. You’d catch yourself asking friends for advice. “Was that text too much?” ”Do these jeans make my ass look good?”
That’s where you and Bob were. After months of nerves, (mostly from him), he finally asked you out. And once the air was cleared, once you both admitted what had been obvious for far too long, you quickly learned just how romantic he could be.
Since then, there have been a handful of dates. You hadn’t known a man’s cheeks could get so red until your first kiss. The initial nerves of being alone together had faded, but with comfort came the next step—intimacy.
Needless to say, Bob started to panic a bit. Kissing was goddamn magical, but the moment you’d straddle him, he’d excuse himself to the restroom or suddenly become very fascinated by the movie neither of you had been watching.
Like last week…
It had started with him pressing a kiss to your temple, then trailing slowly down your cheek, your jaw, the curve of your throat. His lips lingered there, nipping and sucking softly at the spot just above your pulse.
“So pretty,” he murmured against your skin. It sounded almost like a whine, as if your touch alone unraveled him.
That was all it took for you to snap. You turned, catching his mouth in a fierce kiss, and when your tongue brushed his lower lip, he let you in without hesitation. It wasn’t enough. Clutching his biceps, you swung a leg across his lap and settled against him.
“Fuck,” he groaned against your mouth.
The sound alone made you shiver, and when your hips rocked down against the hardness twitching to life beneath his jeans, he whimpered. He wanted you—there was no mistaking the way his body responded.
“Sweetheart- oh fuck-“ He breath was ragged.
But just as you deepened the pressure, his grip tightened around your hips. With a sharp inhale, he lifted you off his lap, breaking the kiss.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, frowning as you landed back on the cushion beside him.
“N-nothing,” he forced out between heavy breaths, giving you a nervous smile to try to ease your mind. “Just… worried about Rose and Jack.” He nodded stiffly toward the TV.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want you—he’d made it clear enough that he did. But every time things edged toward more, they fizzled out the same way. The one indulgence he never held back from, however, was marking you. After Rooster’s teasing and catching Hangman checking you out, Bob had become relentless in his mission to leave at least one hickey on you at all times. You hadn’t exactly fought him on it either.
Now it was Wednesday—movie night. Like clockwork, Bob arrived at your apartment with fresh flowers to replace last week’s and a bag of takeout balanced in his hands.
Since it was your turn to pick, you chose a film you’d already seen. Something safe. Something background.
Because tonight, you’d decided, was the night.
After his usual soft kiss hello, you both settled onto the couch. The glow of the screen flickered across his profile, and you repeated those same four words you’d been clinging to all week: today is the day.
Bob’s arm was wrapped snugly around your shoulders, holding you close as you tucked into his side. The steady rhythm of his breathing, the soft cotton of his shirt under your cheek—it should have been comfortable. Instead, the first thirty minutes of the movie were pure agony.
Your eyes kept flicking from the screen to his face, searching for the right moment. Any moment.
But Bob, the definition of oblivious, just laughed at the movie and reached for his drink, completely unaware of how tightly your thighs pressed together beneath the blanket you shared.
Finally, you shifted, angling toward him a bit more. You brushed your lips against the warm skin of his neck, feather-light at first. His body went rigid instantly, his arm tightening reflexively around you.
You pressed another kiss, then another, working your way upward until your warm breath brushed against his pulse.
From the corner of his glasses, his eyes darted down to you. “Wha-what are you doing?” His voice cracked, betraying nerves he couldn’t disguise.
“Mmm… kissing you,” you hummed innocently against him, letting your mouth linger. A slow suction, the faintest scrape of teeth—enough to draw out a pink bloom on his skin. “That okay?”
His breath was shaky. When he turned to look into your half lidded eyes, he visually melted at the sight. “Yeah, it-it’s great.”
His other hand quickly came up to cup your cheek and bring you into a deep kiss, one that made the ache between your legs worse.
The arm that had rested around your shoulders slid down to your waist, tugging you closer as your tongue brushed past his lips to find his. His grip tightened like he couldn’t get enough, like he was afraid it would end.
When there was nowhere else left to go, Bob surprised you. He guided you onto his lap. The sudden shift made you gasp against his mouth, but you weren’t about to complain.
A low groan rumbled from his chest as he held you flush against him, the hard outline of his cock pressing firmly against you. Instinct took over, and you grind down against the rough denim of his jeans, giving your clit the perfect friction.
“Mmm… you feel so good,” he breathed into your mouth, his voice low and uneven. His hands slid to your hips, guiding your movements, urging you to grind harder, deeper.
Your mind was reeling. Every time before, this was where it stopped—where nerves took over and the moment unraveled. But the way he bucked up against you now, the desperation in his kiss, made you hope this time would be different.
“Bob,” you mewled against his lips, sliding your hands under his shirt finding the ridges of his abs.
His touch grew bolder too. One hand slid over your thigh, squeezing gently before guiding your movements against the press of his cock.
“You-fuck- you’re heaven,” he groaned, as you pulled back just far enough to make him try to chase your lips. But before he could protest, your lips were at his throat again.
You nipped, sucked, leaving faint marks, blooming where your mouth lingered. “What the hell did I do to deserve you?” he sighed.
A moan slipped free as his head fell back, giving you more room. You took it eagerly, covering every inch of his neck with kisses. Needing more, you hurried the process and reached down, tugging your shirt over your head and tossing it aside. His reaction was immediate—eyes going wide, breath catching in his chest.
“You’re so—wow…” His voice broke into a rough whisper. Your cheeks flamed under his stare.
“Oh, darlin’…” he sighed, bowing his head to trail kisses along the swell of your breasts, just above the line of your bra.
“I need you, Bob,” you pleaded, rocking harder against the thick bulge of his cock. Your fingers tangled in his neat hair, tugging just enough to make him go crazy.
“Oh-shit-” His breath broke into shallow pants. He whimpered your name, the sound almost desperate, his mouth faltering against your skin as he lost the ability to keep kissing you.
You cupped his face, wanting- needing to see him. His glasses had slipped low on his nose, and through them, his eyes dragged slowly from your chest, discolored with his kisses, up the column of your throat, until finally locking on yours. Those beautiful eyes he’d do anything to keep shining.
You closed the gap, claiming his lips in a bruising kiss. He moaned into it, voice cracking as he gasped your name. His arms trembled around you, pulling you against his chest.
“I need you. God, please, I need you so badly.” You moved back down to his neck again, wanting to hear the sounds he makes when you suck on it.
His breath was ragged and moans flowed carelessly. It made the ache between your legs worse. You desperately needed relief as grinding against him clearly wasn’t enough anymore. Your hands slid down to the hem of his shirt, tugging, intent on getting him out of it. But just as you lifted the fabric, his grip clamped around your hips, halting your movements.
Your heart dropped with disappointment. Except, when you look up, you notice his eyes squeezed shut and his head tipped back, letting shaky moans escape. His hands clutched you so tightly it almost hurt, knuckles white against your skin.
Then it hit you—he wasn’t stopping because he didn’t want you. He came. He fucking came.
You shifted your hips back and looked between you. A dark patch started growing on his jeans where his bulge throbbed.
When you look back up at Bob, his chest was heaving and face was red.
“Bob?” You say soft and carefully, knowing he was probably- no, definitely humiliated.
“I’m so sorry, darlin’.” His eyes stayed seared shut, like he couldn't bare meet your eyes.
You were shocked to say the least, still processing what happened. “Hey, it’s okay, honey.” You reached for him, cupping his jaw until he let you guide him back. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes, and the disappointment written there tugged at your chest.
He looked down at his crotch to the mess he made before looking back to you. “I should have stopped sooner. I wanted to make ya feel good-I- I planned to! I- ugh, I knew this would happen.”
“No, no, it’s okay.” You offer him a smile to ease his mind and then fix his drooping glasses.
“You’re just- just so pretty,” he frowns.
Your heart fluttered. “You know… It was kind of hot.”
His brows rise. “Hot? I- I don’t understand.”
A snicker slipped from your lips. “You came in your pants for me just from making out and mild grinding.” You press a kiss to his flushed cheek. “That’s hot, Bob.”
“Me? I… Gosh,” He processed your comment, baffled by the idea. Quietly, almost bashful, he says, “well, I might not be able to do much tonight, but I still wanna make you feel good.”
You chuckle, softly, brushing your nose against his. “Oh, honey, that’s okay, we can wait-“
“Please?” He cut in. “Lemme make it up to you.” His fingers dance along the hem of your shorts. “I want to- like really want to.“
Despite having just cum, you could still see the lust in his eyes. There was no denying how badly he still wanted you. The sight alone had that heat stirring in your core all over again.
“O-Okay.”
In an instant, his whole demeanor shifted. Excitement lit his features, though he was still gentle with every movement. He guided you onto your back along the couch, and your legs parted instinctively to welcome him between them.
He tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it to the rug. Bob wasn’t one to be shirtless. His own insecurities often kept him covered, but he knew how much you loved seeing him like this. And for you, he’d do it.
When he leans down again, he gives you a sweet and tender kiss that trails to your jaw, down your neck, and to your breasts where he claims another hickey. Meanwhile, his hands slid around your back, fumbling at the clasp of your bra. It took him a moment, a muffled curse under his breath, but at last he managed it and flung the garment aside with his shirt.
“I’m a lucky man,” he murmured, eyes admiring you. He‘d never be able to get used to knowing you’re his.
Then he bent his head, lips closing around your left nipple. A soft moan slipped from you as he kissed and sucked gently before flicking the hardened peak with his tongue, sending a shiver through your body.
“Oh, fuck,” You moan. Your hands slid into his hair, tugging at the roots.
He pulled back with a wet pop before turning his attention to your neglected breast. His lips brushed lightly over the peak, teasing, until he finally sucked it deep into his mouth, flicking the tip with his tongue. You arched off the couch, gasping for more as he traded between your breasts, taking his time until your whines filled the air and your hips rolled helplessly beneath him.
“Bob, please. Don’t tease.”
A breathy chuckle escaped him as he released you. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” His mouth trailed lower, scattering kisses down your stomach as his hands slid to your shorts. In one smooth tug, he peeled them down along with your panties, tossing them aside.
The sight of you bare made his eyes widen behind his glasses. His chest rose sharply, and he breathed, almost in awe, “Look at you…” He leaned in to press reverent kisses along your thighs, lingering and savoring the view. “Soaked.”
“Bob,” you groaned in frustration. “Please.”
“Mmm, fine,” he hummed into your skin, leaving a mark high on your thigh where only he would ever see it.
Then he shifted, settling your thighs on his shoulders. He kissed your clit softly, once, before pulling back, and licking his lips. The smallest taste had his pupils blown wide. Just like that, he was addicted.
He dove back in. Flattening his tongue, he dragged a slow, wet stripe from your entrance all the way up to your clit, swirling around it until your head tipped back against the cushions, eyes fluttering shut.
“Fuck- yes! Keep going!” you cried, hands clutching at his hair. “Ohhh, like that!”
He groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core, nuzzling deeper as his tongue moved up and down your slick folds.
“So sweet,” he mumbled, the words muffled by your body. He didn’t pull back this time. He couldn’t possibly. He was too lost in you, too consumed. He slurped up every drop, not letting anything go to waste.
You could hear the squelch as he nuzzled deeper into your pussy, to devour you like a starved man. His palms kneaded the tops of your thighs while his tongue worked relentlessly at your clit—switching between flicks and slow, greedy suckles that made your whole body shiver.
“Shit shit!” Your thighs trembled around his head. When you forced yourself to look down, the sight nearly made you cum on the spot.
Bob’s glasses were slipping down his nose, fogged and smudged from the heat of your body. His fingers gripped hard into your thighs to steady your squirming, but what made your cunt flutter was the way he was rutting helplessly against the couch cushion—just as desperate, just as undone, as you were.
“You taste so damn good.” He groans into your pussy, flattening his tongue and licking broad stripes up, trying to taste as much of you as possible. “I could do this forever. Wanna wake you up like this, come home to this. I just love your pussy so fucking much.”
His words made your chest tighten, your breath come faster. You could only whine his name in reply, your voice breaking on every exhale.
Then his tongue pressed inside you, lapping greedily at your walls. His hand slid over, thumb finding your swollen clit and circling hard, mercilessly. Your back arched, fingers tugging his hair harder as your body tried to escape the intensity, but his grip only drew you deeper into it.
“AH! Bob!”
The pleasure was too much, sparking hot and sharp in your belly. He pushed your knees up against your chest, opening you wide for him, helping open your pussy so his tongue could massage every sopping wet inch of your cunt.
The moment he seals his lips around your clit, you’re done for. You feel the pressure rising in you becoming almost unbearable.
“Oh! Oh, God! Bob! I’m gonna cum!”
“Do it,” he begged into you, voice muffled but desperate. “Cum for me. Please, I need it.”
And you did. The world blurred as ecstasy ripped through you, your moans of his name filling the apartment. Your body shook, as you came all over his tongue.
He didn’t stop. Even as you came down, shivering and limp against the cushions, he stayed between your thighs, licking and slurping every drop of your release like he was deprived of water.
“Cum for me one more time, sweetheart.” He pleaded. One hand left your thigh, his fingers sliding through your slick before lifting to show you the shine coating them. “Hold your thighs for me.”
“Bob, I already-”
“Please, just one more.” He looks up at you through fogged glasses. How could you resist?
Still trembling, you weakly hooked your hands behind your knees, holding yourself open for him. The sight made him grin. He kissed your thigh softly, then returned to your pussy.
His mouth pressed reverent kisses to your clit as his slick-coated fingers eased inside. The stretch had you moaning all over again, your head tipping back into the cushions.
Bob groaned, the sound vibrating against your cunt. “God, you feel so good. So tight… you’d feel so perfect around me.” His hips shifted restlessly against the couch, cock dragging against the stickiness of his boxers and jeans. Even though he was already spent, he couldn’t help it. You did this to him. You made him absolutely desperate for you.
His fingers began to thrust, slow at first, wet noises filling the room. His mouth closed back around your clit, tongue working feverishly. When he curled his fingers just right, brushing that spot deep inside, your cry broke into a scream.
If Bob didn’t already cum, he would have just at the sight of you. Your legs in the air, back arched, nipples hard, obscene moans and incoherent words pouring from your lips.
“B-Bob!” you sobbed, thighs trembling in your own grip. “It’s too much!”
“I know, sweetheart, I know.” He lifted his mouth for only a breath, voice shaky. “You can take it. Please? For me? Just wanna see you cum again.”
Your body quaked with the effort, every nerve raw, every muscle begging for rest. And still, you nodded.
Bob didn’t hesitate after your nod. He dove right back in, tongue laving at your clit sloppily while his fingers worked deeper, harder, curling until your walls clenched around him.
The pleasure hit sharp and overwhelming. Your arms shook, struggling to keep your legs spread as your body writhed beneath him.
“Bob—ahh—oh God!” Your voice cracked on his name, a mess of whimpers and cries spilling out.
“That’s it,” he breathed against you, lips glistening. “So good for me. Let me have it, darlin’.”
His pace grew relentless, fingers pistoning in and out of your cunt. You could hear the obscene sounds of your own arousal being drawn out of you, each wet squelch only drawing you closer to the edge. Your nails bite into the skin of your thighs.
“Mmm,” Bob moans into you. “I know you’re ready to cum. Give it to me, darlin’. Gonna look so beautiful.”
You came hard and violently, your cunt spasmed, clenching down on his fingers, soaking his hand.
“Yes, fuck, that’s it, that’s my girl,” Bob groaned into you, lapping up everything you gave him. He didn’t stop until you were arching, then falling, trembling, boneless on the couch.
He carefully pulls his fingers from you, slow and careful, before leaning in to lap at the mess you made, cleaning you up with soft, unhurried strokes of his tongue. When he’s satisfied, he sits back to lick his fingers clean. His eyes flutter shut to savor the last taste of you.
Then his gaze finds yours again. “You okay?” His voice is husky, threaded with exhaustion and awe.
You’re still trembling, heart pounding so loud it drowns out everything else. When you're finally able to focus on him again, you smile weakly. His face flushed, hair messy, glasses foggy and crooked on his nose, but still looking at you like you were the only thing in the world.
You can’t help the weak, blissed-out laugh that bubbles up. “I’m perfect. I didn’t know you could do that.”
Relief softens his shoulders. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and lowers himself over you again. You bring your hands up to fix his glasses before he pulls you in for a slow and lazy. His hands cradle your face gently, thumbs stroking your warm cheeks.
“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs against your lips, and you feel him smile faintly when you kiss him back.
You knew it would take time before Bob could last inside you, before he trusted himself not to cum the second he was buried in your pussy. But you already knew it would be worth the wait.
A/N: First Bob Floyd fic I hope it lived up to the hype😅
Permanent Tag List: @what-iwish-you-knew @infuriatinglyoptimistic @harriedandharassed
Kinktober 2025 Tag List: @plu0725 @iristheplanet16
Warnings: Fluff, Yearning, Alcohol but not drunk, SMUT (oral f receiving through the mask, face/mask riding, some m!masturbation, piv, multiple orgasms, sub!needy!vig moments)
Word Count: 5,300+
Summary: Adrian is absolutely smitten with you, but when he hears you talking about how much you love Vigilante, he gets an idea.
A/N: Happy Halloween! Just so y’all know… any statistics mentioned are indeed accurate. I absolutely did research on those topics for Adrian.
“Adrian!” You wave him over from across the restaurant, motioning toward the back where the other employees lingered.
He immediately drops everything to scurry over to you—almost literally dropping everything as he slammed into his cart of dirty plates and quickly saves it from toppling over. “Wha- what’s up?”
“You coming to the Halloween party tonight?”
A collective groan ripples through the room. Dave drops his head into his hands. Clearly, you weren’t supposed to tell him, but you didn’t give a fuck.
“Halloween party?” Adrian blinks.
“Yeah- ”
“Don’t you dare,” Dave cuts in, some of the other employees are unable to watch this and go back to work.
“There’s a party at the bar on Second Street,” you finish anyway. “You should come.”
If Dave had hair, he’d be ripping it out.
“Oh wow, I didn’t know,” Adrian says, eyes bright. “Is this, like, a last-minute thing?”
“No!”
“Yes.” You glared at Dave, then softened when you looked back at Adrian. “Yes.”
He sighed loudly. “Actually, there aren’t any more tickets.”
“Well,” you counter, “it’s a good thing Dave said I could bring a plus one.”
He shoots you a death stare.
“Okay, I’ll be there!” Adrian grins like a kid on Christmas morning, slowly backing away to return to work but not wanting to look away from you just yet.
“I’ll put you on the list. And dress up!” you called out before turning to your locker to grab your stuff for the day.
As soon as he’s gone, Dave groans. “What the hell was that? He’s going to ruin the party.”
“He’s not going to ruin the party,” you groan, slinging your bag over your shoulder.
“He’s going to go be himself and make everything weird.”
“The thrilling party you’re so worried about is at the sleaziest bar in town. Half the bartenders are hookers. You’ll survive.” You shut your locker with a clang and walk out before he can respond.
For a thirty-dollar entry fee, the party was, at best, mediocre. Pizza, cookies, spiked punch, and company that barely qualified as tolerable. You leaned against the bar, small-talking with a few of the people from work, trying to look more entertained than you felt.
Then Adrian walked in.
He spotted you immediately, a proud grin spreading across his face like he’d just been announced as the guest of honor.
You chuckled and turn to him, leaving your conversation. “Woah. Peacemaker?”
“Yeah! You like it? I made the suit myself.” He looked down at himself, admiring his handy work. It was pretty accurate, all things considered. “Are you Catwoman?”
You glanced down at your outfit; black jeans, fitted top, a small mask and makeup. Simple. Cheap. Effective. “Uh, yeah. Kinda. Didn’t feel like going all out for a party like this.” You nodded at his outfit. “Your costume’s amazing, though. But your helmet looks like it’s about to fall off.”
“Yeah. I borrowed it from my BFF. Well… he actually told me no so I took it when he wasn’t looking.” He clears his throat and quickly changes the subject. “Are you thirsty? I can get you a drink.” He perks up.
You look down at the solo cup in your hand, still full from the refill you got 5 minutes ago. “Uh… yeah, sure.”
He vanished into the crowd before you could say another word. You set your cup down on the nearest table—no need to hurt his feelings—and waited.
A minute later, Adrian reappeared, juggling two drinks and a paper plate stacked high with food, grinning ear to ear.
“Here’s your drink,” he carefully set it down in front of you on the bar. “And I didn’t know if you’d eaten yet, but you should never drink on an empty stomach, so- ” He presented a plate piled with pizza and cookies like it was a gourmet spread. “Tada! Also…”
You quickly took the plate and cup before he could drop them, watching as he fished around in his pocket.
“I brought drink protector covers,” he said proudly, pulling out a pack of them. “You can never be too safe.”
Your jaw dropped into a grin before you could stop it. “Wow. That’s… actually really thoughtful—all of this is. Thank you.”
He shrugged, cheeks reddening. “It’s the least I could do after you invited me. I- I don’t get invited to these things often—or ever. I owe you.”
You felt your heart ache for him. He was the butt of everyone’s jokes at work. You never participated in the teasing, of course, you know how genuinely kind he is. He’s odd but in the best way possible.
“Don’t mention it.”
That point in the night came when everyone was drunk enough to stop pretending they weren’t. Music blared, people danced badly.
But the two of you had long since retreated to a pair of stools tucked in the far corner, only on your second drink. You sat facing each other, laughing through mouthfuls of food. The conversation wandered as he talked about nonsense topics, and told you very wrong trivia facts that only made you laugh harder. When it was your turn to talk, he was completely enthralled by every story or fact about yourself.
Two of your coworkers wandered over, girls you hadn’t said hi to yet tonight. Surprise flickered across their faces when they realized you were sitting with Adrian, but you just smiled like it was nothing.
“Peacemaker?” one of them asked, eyeing his costume.
“Yeah.” Adrian straightened proudly, puffing his chest a little. “He’s the best!”
“Ugh, I’d jump Peacemaker’s bones if I had the chance.” She moaned at the thought.
“Ew, no way,” the other girl countered. “Superman’s the only answer.”
Then all three turned to you.
You froze mid-sip, swallowing the mouthful of punch in one gulp. “What?”
“Who would you sleep with?” she pressed. “Peacemaker or Superman?”
You felt heat crawl up your neck. “I—I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Come on, pick one!”
Adrian went quiet beside you. He waited intently as his fingers fidgeted with the stray thread of his costume, that proud grin now gone.
You brace yourself for their reaction. “Neither.”
The girls erupted in protest. “What!” “Booo!”
“Honestly,” you continued, feeling shy now, “I’d kill to get railed by Vigilante.” You sigh at the thought. “And he can keep the mask on too.”
Adrian goes rigid in his seat, eyes blown wide.
The three of your girls burst into giggles.
“I have to pee!” Adrian announced, loud enough to turn a few heads, before shooting up from his stool so fast it nearly toppled over.
You blinked as he straightened his helmet, nodded to no one in particular, and briskly walked toward the bathrooms… only to make a sharp right left turn, push through the front door, and bolt full speed down the street?
Your brows knit together as his red-and-blue costume flashed past the window and vanished around the corner.
After that, you hung around a little longer, chatting with the others until they eventually drifted off to the dance floor. Left alone, you fidgeted with the drink cover he’d given you earlier. Guys came by to flirt; you brushed them off without much thought.
Twenty minutes passed. The party was getting old. The music was too loud, the few conversations you had were dry, and you had lost any will to be here anymore.
Still no sign of Adrian, you sighed and decided to call it a night. You tugged the mask off and stuffed it into your back pocket and pushed the door open.
Your apartment was only a few blocks away, so you decided to walk and save a few bucks instead of ordering an uber. On your way home, you watched clusters of people in costumes spill from bars, laughing and shouting drunkenly under the streetlights across the street.
It was a good night, you guessed. Just not for you.
“Hello!”
You jumped, stumbling back as you collided face first with someone’s armored chest.
“Shit! Sorry! Where the hell did you come fro-” You stopped mid-sentence when your eyes landed on the red visor staring back at you.
“Are you in need of any assistance getting home tonight, ma’am?” Vigilante asked, planting his hands on his hips like a superhero striking a pose. “Some studies indicate that 19% of men and 12% of women binge drink on Halloween. This can lead to an increase of drunk drivers, but pedestrians are particularly at risk, with one study showing that drunk drivers were responsible for 23% of pedestrian fatalities on Halloween night.”
You stared at him, frozen. He sounded way too calm to be joking. “Y-you just wanna walk me home?”
He gave a sharp nod.
You look around the area, confused by what was happening. “It’s Halloween, you’re definitely not the real Vigilante.”
“Yes, I am! I can prove it.”
Before you could react, he pulled out a very real pistol.
“What the fuck!?” You stumbled back.
“Don’t worry!” he said quickly. “I’m not gonna fire it. I’m not psychotic.” He snorted and holstered it again, like that made it better. “Besides, this suit’s a few thousand dollars of military-grade gear. No one’s spending that on a Halloween costume.” He holds out an arm for you to touch.
You were half convinced you were dreaming. Or losing your mind. Probably both, but you reach out and touch the suit. The ridges the material was very real and so were the muscles underneath. You look back up to his visor, faintly seeing his eyes and bridge of his nose.
This was The Vigilante.
“Well…” your cheeks warmed. Less than an hour ago you were talking about how badly you wanted to get railed by Vigilante and now he’s standing right there. “If you really wanna walk me home, you can.”
“Yes!” He did a small, triumphant hop before scurrying to your side. He immediately made sure you were on the inside of the sidewalk, before scanning for danger like you were under presidential escort.
At first, the walk was silent. You stole glances at him, careful not to make it obvious.
The suit made him look bigger than you’d imagined, broader, more imposing. And that mask… the black with the white and teal stripes and red visor. You didn’t understand how a simple mask could be so mesmerizing, but it was. Your heart was beating so loud in your ears, you were scared he’d notice.
“So…” you start, mostly to break the silence. “Do you always walk women home?”
“No,” he answers plainly. “I just hunt criminals and racists.”
“Oh… that’s nice.” You glance over, catching how his head keeps turning, scanning the empty street you turned onto. “Then why me?”
“Because you’re, like, the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. And it’s Halloween, which means you could be at risk.” He says with complete seriousness.
Your ears burn instantly. You look away, hoping he doesn’t notice the stupid smile on your face.
“How’s your Halloween been?” he asks suddenly, making you flinch out of your thoughts.
“Oh- uh, okay, I guess.”
“Just okay?” The mask tilts down toward you. “Why just okay?” He sounds genuinely concerned.
“I got ditched.”
“Who would ditch you? You’re so sweet and likable!” He pauses. “I mean, that’s just my first impression. I don’t actually know you personally.”
“Just a guy.”
He faces forward again. “Oh… a boyfriend?” His voice dips, quiet, almost disappointed? Vigilante was so stupid sometimes.
“No. No boyfriend.”
“Oh.” His shoulders straightened again. “Well, I’m surprised because you’re the coolest person I’ve ever met. Maybe second coolest, because Peacemaker has helmets and, you know, it’s Peacemaker. No offense.”
“None taken,” you snort. “I’m flattered, though.” You have to bite your lip to keep from smiling too wide. “I- I think you’re one of the coolest people I’ve met too.”
He looks back at you, locking eyes for a moment. You couldn't tell but you think he may be smiling under that mask.
Silence settles again as you continue your walk. You miss how his gloved fingers extended towards yours, only to retract, too busy dreading the walk ending already.
Then, with complete sincerity, he asks, “Do you want me to kill that guy for you?”
Your head snaps toward him. “What? No! No, definitely not!”
He shrugs. “Okay. I just think it’d be completely justifiable if he died for that. I’m just saying.”
Vigilante has a hard time not looking at you. Luckily, with the red visor, you couldn’t tell where exactly he was looking. But he admired you in the corner of his peripheral, confused as to why you kept looking at him and quickly looking away. Did he still have blood on his mask?
By the time you reach your building, he is insisting on walking you all the way to your door. “You never know who might leap out and kidnap you,” he reasons, and you could argue that.
When you stop at your door, you turn to him, smiling bashfully. “Thanks for walking me.”
He nods, hands on his hips again like he’s posing for a comic book cover. “It’s my honor, ma'am.”
You turn to unlock your door but stop. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the fact that you finally had the perfect opportunity. You turn around, fingers nervously playing with your keys.
“Umm… you’ve probably been running around all night. Would you want to come in for some water or something?”
“Are you asking me to have sex with you?”
You gasp so hard you choke on your own spit. “I- what- I never- uh- ”
“Because if you are,” he rocks back on and forth on his heels, “I’d very much like to.”
You swallow hard, trying to compose yourself. Your hands tremble, completely flustered. “Oh- uh, yeah. Okay. Come in.” Turning back to your door, you fumble with the keys, heart pounding in your ears.
You open the door to your quaint one bedroom apartment, decorated with Halloween decor. “Well, this is my place. If you’re thirsty, I can- what are you doing?”
When you turn, he’s holding out a small device.
“Please blow,” his tone was oddly cheerful.
“Huh?”
“The breathalyzer. I don’t want to take advantage of you. I have to confirm your blood alcohol level before proceeding.” He continues to extend it toward you, dead serious.
You blink at him. “I’ve never had foreplay like this,” you mutter, but step forward anyway. Wrapping your lips around the nozzle, you blow until it beeps.
He retracts it and studies the reading. “Hmm…”
“What?” your nerves spiked again.
“You’re good. Point-zero-three.” He turns the screen toward you as proof before stashing it neatly in his belt.
Then he steps closer. The energy in the room instantly shifts as he looms above you.
“Before we start,” he says, voice lower now, “I can’t take off my mask. Or tell you who I am. I could be anyone. Someone you know, someone you don’t. Is that okay?”
You meet the red visor, pulse skipping. “Yeah.”
“Even if I was, like… a total loser or something?”
You can’t help the small smile. “I don’t care about that, Vigilante.”
With your final word, he hesitates only a heartbeat before leaning in. The kiss catches you off guard. For a second, you don’t know how to respond, the mask material was strange against your lips. Then you feel the faint shape of his mouth pressing into yours, and take the opportunity to lock your lips together.
His arms snake around your waist, pulling you in. The armor, pushing against your chest, teasing your hardening nipples. His hands roam your body like he’s trying to memorize what you feel like. You lift your arms around his neck, fingers brushing against the edge of his gear.
Beneath all that metal and kevlar, he’s trembling. With anticipation or nerves, he can’t tell. What he did know was that he needed you.
You begin to lead him towards your bedroom, his hands already tugging your shirt off. Everything escalated quickly. Hands toss clothes, armor hits the ground with a thud. Soon enough, the only thing on was his mask.
Vigilante was so wrapped up in kissing you, he didn’t even get the chance to admire your naked body. Once your settle against the pillows, he finally breaks away.
“Wow!” He snickers like a giddy school boy. “You’re even hotter naked!” He takes it all in, taking mental pictures for his spank bank later. His hands roam down your sides enjoying how incredibly soft you felt in him.
Meanwhile you were also busy being hypnotized by his body. Sure, you knew he had to be muscular, but those biceps, those abs, and that v-line leading down to the best part. His cock was already rockhard. It looked so heavy, you start to doubt it could fit.
You’re pulled from your dirty thoughts when he moves down your body and settles between your legs. He places your thighs on his shoulders and kneads them.
You move onto your elbows, brows knitting. “You really don’t have to. I don’t even think this will wor- ohhh!” Moans rip from your throat as you sink back into the pillow again.
His helmet nuzzles into your soaked pussy rubbing against your aching clit in the process. “I need to eat you out one way or another.” He groans into you, his tongue, also able to push against the cloth, adding slight pressure. With this method, he’s able to lap at you through the mask, even using the cold metallic part to stimulate your clit with each pass.
“Holy shit, you taste so fucking good.” He hums against you as your arousal soaks into his mask.
Your hands shoot down and grab his helmet tugging him against you. “Ah! Ooohh! T-That- ah- feels so good! Don’t stop, please, don’t stop!” Somehow, through a goddamn mask, this is the best head you’ve ever gotten.
The hands on your hips tighten, helping you grind into him. “You have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” He slurps at you through the mask.
You whimper, noticing how soaked his mask was. “V-vig! Y-you’re not going to be able to breathe like this.”
He groans into you. “Waterboard me. I’d die happy.”
Grabbing the back of your thighs, he pushes them to your chest. With more of your pussy exposed, he’s able to nuzzle deeper into you, grinding his mask against you until you’re a whimpering mess under him.
Your scent, your taste, your moans, they were everything and more. “Oh my fuck! This is incredible! I could cum just doing this all night.” His cock ached and twitched against his abs, but he could care less. “Please cum. I wanna make you cum so bad.”
Your thighs quiver in his grip. The obscene sounds of his mask rubbing against your drenched cunt we’re getting you closer. “Ahh! Vig!” You yelp.
“Hold onto your thighs for me.” He orders and you quickly oblige by holding the back of your knees.
With his hands free, he sinks two of his large fingers into your cunt while the other hand lazily pumps his leaking cock. The curl of his fingers had you teetering on the edge, moaning louder now.
“That’s it. Please cum for me.” He crammed a third finger into your tight pussy and focused on hitting your sweet spot. His fingers moved in and out so fast, you could hear the splashing of your juices. “I wanna make you cum. Cum all over my mask.”
“Ahh! Vigilante, I’m cumming! Ungh! I’m cumming!” You throbbed around his fingers, soaking his hand and mask. Your whole body vibrates with pleasure and loans desperate moans fall out of you.
Slowly, his fingers retract from you while you lower your quivering legs onto the sheets again. He sits back on his heels, distracted. Those three glistening fingers carefully spread open and closed, sticky threads of your cum draping between them.
After a moment, his smeared visor meets your eyes. “Ride my mask.”
The request surprises you, making your hooded eyes shoot open. “But you already-“
“Please, please ride my mask.” He pleaded. “This is the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me. I- I really need you to ride my mask.”
Your walls throbbed again at how absolutely desperate he sounded, begging for more of you. “Okay.”
Immediately, he’s flopping down on your bed, and manhandling you. He didn’t want to waste so he yanked you onto him, your thighs planting on either side of his face.
“I fucking love this pussy,” he groans, tugging you down so his mask was slotted between your folds and pressing against your clit just right.
You start to move, the different texture of his mask felt incredible from the hard metal, to the glass visor, and rough fabric. He continues to slurp at each drop that seeps through, his tongue moving against the material, collecting it all.
“Watching your pussy grinding down on my face is the best thing to ever happen to me.” He whimpered out.
Your sensitive clit throbs with each pass. The pleasure was so overwhelming, you fell forward, bracing yourself against the headboard. “Shit! Shit, Vig!”
His hands massage your ass while you ride him. Occasionally his hips pathetically bucked against nothing, just desperate for some sort of relief, but he’d rather feel every inch of you than touch himself right now.
“I can’t believe this is actually happening. I’m going to think about this every time I jerk off from now on.”
You were getting closer, your high pitched moans and desperate bucking of your hips made that clear.
“Are you gonna cum again?” He gets excited, nodding his head a bit to help. “Please cum, I need you to cum.”
“Ah! Ah! Yes! Oh, fuck! I’m cumming again!”
Since you were incredibly sensitive, your orgasm hit you even harder than the first. Your pussy fluttered around nothing, just leaking even more onto Vigilante’s mask which he quickly slips up once it seeps through. Eventually your foggy mind starts to fall back to reality. He helps you shift off of him and lay back on the bed.
“That was the hottest thing ever.” He looks down to his erect dick. “Woah, I’m so fucking hard.”
Through your half-mast eyes, you look over at him. His thick heavy cock rests against his abs, pearly beads rolling from the slit and pooling on his muscles. You were exhausted, but the sight made your walls pulse again.
Vigilante wipes his visor before he crawls over you like a predator with his prey. “I really wanna feel your pussy around my dick.” He says breathlessly. “Do you want to stop?” His hand runs up and down your curves soothingly. “Or can I fuck you until you’re screaming and cumming all over my cock?”
“Please fuck me.” The exhaustion quickly disappeared.
He reaches over the bed, grabbing a condom from the pocket of his suit. “Safety first!” It’s torn open, wrapped flying to god knows where, and the condom is quickly rolled on.
Once he’s situated, he looks between you, pressing his bulbous tip to your drenched hole. With a slow thrust, he’s inside you, forcing your needy pussy to stretch around him. Both gasp in sync.
“Vig, you-your so big!” You squeak out, your whole body tense.
“I know, but you’ve got this.” He encourages breathlessly.
Your warm and wet pussy had his mind spinning. “This is better than I ever imagined.” He whimpered to himself before starting to rock his hips.
It was slow, giving your cunt the time it needs to accommodate his girth. He leans over you onto his elbows, pressing the weight of his body against yours. Your legs immediately wrap around his waist and hands hold onto his shoulder blades. That red visor locks with your eyes again and he starts moving.
His cock slides out, leaving only his thick tip inside the slams back in. Your back arches off the bed, fingers grip his back, and moans explode from your lips. He keeps doing this, the drag of his cock against your walls both burns and becomes addicting.
“Fuuuuuck! How are you so- ungh- so tight?” He gasps for air as he pounds into you. “I don’t even like sex, but I get it now. Oh, shit! Yeah, yeah I get it. ”
The bed creaks with each of his thrusts and headboard slams into the wall, no doubt scratching the paint. Your poor neighbors definitely hate you both right now. There was a constant plap plap plap plap sound. Vigilante was a moaning mess as he mindlessly blabbered about how good your pussy feels. You were completely drunk off his cock, not even sure what sounds were coming out of your mouth anymore.
“I’d fucking kill to have this pussy every night- oh, fuck,” his forehead falls to yours, allowing him the gift of watching your face contort in ecstasy. An ecstasy that he was creating right now. “I'm serious, I’ll kill anyone you ask me to- ju- just let me come inside you. Ngh, ngh, ngh! A-any thing you want, I’ll give it to you.”
Your toes curl and nails scratch at his back. The tip of his cock slams uncontrollably against your sweet spot. “Y-you can- ah! You can cum in me. You don't have to do a thing to earn it.”
“Wh- wait- r-really?” He asks so gently between huffs of air. “You- you mean it?”
“Mhm.” You stop him so his dick slides out. Wasting no time, you grab onto the slick latex and pull it off, tossing it into the pile of clothes. “Just keep fucking me!”
His eyes were blown wide open watching it all unfold. Taking a second to process what just happened, he quickly slammed back into you. You were so much warmer, so much wetter around him, he was seeing stars.
“I’ll fuck you. I’ll make you cum as many times as you want.” With a new burst of energy, he plowed you into the bed with more force, making you scream. “Oh- oh fuck, yeah- you just got so fucking tight! Agh!”
“VigVigVigVig!” You squeal, over and over, feeling yourself getting close.
The way you moan his name had him whimpering above you. “Oh, god- oh you’re gonna make me nut too fast.”
His arms try to wrap around your torso. He just wanted to feel you, feel every inch of you as you writhe in pleasure from his cock. It wasn’t enough, though. Suddenly, you’re being hoisted up and onto his lap as he sits back on his heels, hugging you against him. In the new position, he fucks up into you, his arms able to wrap around your body to explore and paw at you shamelessly. You keep one leg wrapped around him still, but plant one foot on the bed, and use it to help you bounce against him.
“Oh- Oh, Shit! I’m- no, no, no, I’m going to cum!” He grits his teeth, holding back with all his power.
You slid so easily against him, his whole pelvis was drenched with you. The veins of his cock, were streaked with your cream. It was a lewd yet beautiful sight.
“I-I’m so close!” You whimper.
His mask moves to your neck where he tries desperately to kiss. He wanted you, all of you for so long. This was so much more than a simple hook up.
“P-please cum, I can’t h-hold back.” He pulled back to look into your eyes. Just barely, you can see his eyes. Those eyes you adore so so much.
His pace was sloppy, balls smacking against your ass with a wet slap. When he tugs you closer against his chest, your clit grinds against his pelvis just right. That was the last spark you needed for the fire to ignite in your core.
“Vig! Angh!” You came screaming his name, pussy throbbing around him.
That was all he needed to bury himself against your cervix and cum deep inside you, whimpering your name while your pussy milked him dry. Even when you couldn’t move anymore, he continued to hump you, riding out the last of your orgasms.
You both stay like this for a moment, holding onto each other, chests heaving together. Then, ever so carefully, he lays you back down on the bed and slides out. He took a moment to admire the cum dribbling out of you before he laid back against the headboard.
The haze of orgasmic bliss starts to ebb and you two find yourself back in reality. You shift to sit up, every muscle of your body screaming for you not to.
Vigilante’s visor tracks you curiously.
When you turn to him, a lazy smile tugs at your lips. He still doesn’t say anything, so you lean down and press a long kiss against his mask. The faint warmth of his mouth pushes back through the fabric. You sigh, content, and pull away just enough to meet his gaze.
“Tonight was perfect, Adrian. Thank you.”
His whole body goes stiff as if he’s been held at gun point. It takes a solid moment for him to start working again. “Oh- uh… I don’t know any Adrians.”
“Adrian-“
He continues to ramble. “That’s a cool name, though. I wish I was Adrian.”
“Adri-“
“You know, it’s a very popular name, actually. I wonder how many Adrian’s live in Washington. Imagine how crazy would it be if-“
“I know it’s you, Adrian Chase.”
His eyes went wide like a cartoon character behind the visor. “But how?!”He rips the mask off, curls spilling out and sticking to his sweaty forehead.
You point toward the floor. “First of all, your glasses fell out of your suit when you took it off.” You reach over the bed and pluck them from beside his gear, dangling them between your fingers. “Also, you sound exactly the same.”
His mouth opens and closes. “S–so how long…?”
You snort. “Months.”
“But you- What about when I was walking you home! You acted like you didn’t know me.”
“I knew,” you admit, settling comfortably in his lap. His pout falters, replaced by a bright flush. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t an impersonator, but I know those eyes too well.” You slide his glasses onto his nose. There’s your Adrian.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because it was cute watching you flirt with me as Vigilante and come up with excuses as to why you’re late for work or need me to cover your shift.” Your fingers twist through his curls. “You were so obvious.”
He frowns. “How could that possibly give it away?”
“You told me last week you had a manta ray emergency and had to get to the aquarium.”
“That’s completely plausible!”
“No one has a manta ray emergency, Adrian.”
“Veterinarians! Marine Biologists!”
The confidence in his answer caught you off guard.
You raise a brow. “Well, you are neither.”
His confident face twists as he thinks. Then he sighs in defeat, “Fine.”
You cup his face, and he immediately melts into your touch, forgetting he was grumpy.
“Wait-“ He blinks. “You still had sex with Vigilante… knowing it was me?”
You grin. “I would have had sex with you with or without the mask.”
“Oh…” He gives you a dopey smile. His gaze falls to your lips and for a second he hesitates, but he closes the gap. The kiss was passionate and perfect, lips slotting together, heads tilting to deepen it, making the world spin. It was the first real kiss, nothing between you, nothing holding you back.
After an incredible moment, he pulls back. “So… do you still wanna have sex with Adrian?”
You nod with a smile “Very much so.”
His eyes light up. “Yes! I can finally eat your pussy!”
In one fast move, he pushes you back, spreads your legs and dives in.
A/N: Welcome to the bitter sweet end of Kinktober. I will be doing a 12 Days of Christmas/Smutmas so if you have any requests or want to be added to that taglist lmk! Im also stating over on all my taglists so lmk if you want to stay or be added!
Dividers: @strangergraphics (I’m obsessed!)
Kinktober 2025 Tag List: @plu0725 @iristheplanet16
Permanent Tag List: @what-iwish-you-knew @infuriatinglyoptimistic @harriedandharassed
Warnings: Fluff, Date w/ another character, Kinda Angsty, Jealous!Arthur, SMUT (rough, doggy style, 1 spank, piv, dirty talk)
Word Count: 3,700+
Summary: Ever since the man your father betrothed you to came to town, it’s been nearly impossible to see Arthur… or tell him of your unwanted engagement.
A/N: I know this took a bit to come out. Work got crazy and then when life finally calmed down I got the flu, but please enjoy! I’ve also decided to make this a series so lmk if u want to be added to the series tag list!
Things had grown complicated since your betrothed arrived. Sneaking away to see Arthur had always required caution. Now it required strategy and time, both of which, you didn’t have the luxury of.
Edward and his family had taken rooms at the very hotel you and Arthur favored. The paranoia of being caught kept you from any late night rendezvous. And between your father’s scrutiny and Edward’s polite attentiveness, you’d hardly been alone for a week.
It had been a long, suffocating week, and the inability to see let alone talk to Arthur had only made things worse.
Dinners had passed with relative ease. You could sit quietly while the men spoke of business and railroads and futures decided without you. But today was different.
Today was yours and Edward’s first outing unchaperoned.
A knock sounded at your door.
You opened it to find him precisely as you expected: clean-shaven, hair slicked neatly back with pomade, gloves folded in one hand. His suit was tailored to perfection—far too fine for a town like Valentine. By sundown those twenty-dollar shoes would be ruined in mud.
“Good afternoon, ma’am.” He took your hand gently, pressing a careful kiss to your knuckles.
You inclined your head. “Good afternoon.”
“Are you ready for our date?” He gave you a boyish grin.
You collected your parasol and sun hat from the side table. “I am.”
He immediately took the parasol from you, opening it himself and holding it at just the proper angle. You looped your arm through his as you stepped into the sunlight.
It was a pleasant day. A light breeze. Birds in the trees. The kind of day Arthur would’ve called good riding weather.
“I was thinking,” Edward began, eager, “we might find a teahouse for afternoon tea. Afterward perhaps a play? Or we could visit the tailor and see about something new for you.”
You looked at him slowly. “A teahouse?”
“Yes. Do you enjoy tea?”
“Tea’s fine.” You adjusted your grip on his arm. “But I ain’t too sure where you expect to find a teahouse in Valentine.”
He hesitated. “There must be one.”
“Unless the tea’s mixed with whiskey, you ain’t finding much of it.”
He frowned thoughtfully. “No teahouse…”
“Nor any theatres,” you added. “Unless you count the tent by the hotel.”
His head snapped toward you. “That is not a public lavatory?”
The horror on his face made heat creep up your neck. Valentine wasn’t the fanciest town, but it was still your home. “Afraid not.”
He cleared his throat quickly, smoothing his expression. “Of course. My mistake.”
As you reached the main street, Edward scanned the shop signs, desperate for refuge. “I’m certain there must be somewhere suitable for a meal.”
“The saloon’s got decent bread rolls.”
He looked at the weathered wooden building, its porch crowded with men who hadn’t seen a pressed collar in their lives. “Right,” he said after a moment. “Of course. The saloon.”
Inside, conversation dipped briefly. Edward was easily the best-dressed man in the room. Shirts were patched with mismatched colors. Boots were caked in mud. A few men didn’t even bother hiding their stares.
He kept his posture straight, jaw tight.
You could feel his discomfort radiating off of him.
When the food came, he examined it politely before taking a careful bite. It wasn’t the steak dinners and fresh vegetables he was accustomed to in Saint Denis. But he said nothing.
He clears his throat between bites. “I’m quite looking forward to marrying such a beautiful woman.”
You hesitate.
A few months ago, that might have warmed you, even made you giddy. Now they don’t hold nearly as much weight as they would or should have.
“Thank you.”
“I imagine,” he continues carefully, “we ought to discuss our future while we have a moment without our families intervening.”
You wipe the corners of your mouth and nod. “I agree.”
A man nearby sloshes beer across the floor while spinning a girl around. The piano is half a note flat. The barber trims someone’s beard three tables over.
This is not how Edward pictured having this talk with his future wife.
Still, he presses on.
“While Valentine is… charming,” he says, choosing the words wisely, “I would very much like you to return to Saint Denis with me.”
There it is.
You knew it was coming. You prepared to leave this town your whole life, and yet, hearing it makes something in your chest tighten.
“Saint Denis,” you repeat. “That’s rather far.”
He reaches across the table, taking your gloved hand with deliberate tenderness. “I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t prepared to give you everything. I’ve already purchased a big beautiful white home on the safest street in town with seven large bedrooms.”
Seven.
“Must we need so many rooms?”
“For us,” he continues, pleased with himself. “Our four children. And additional rooms for extended family or clients who may need lodging.”
Four.
He says it the way one discusses shipments or investments. Planned. Accounted for.
Your thoughts scramble to keep pace.
“I don’t mind where we hold the wedding,” he adds generously. “That may be entirely your domain. And you needn’t trouble your pretty little self over expenses. I will ensure everything is handled. After the honeymoon,” he continues then corrects himself, “or perhaps during, we should begin trying for children. A woman’s window for these things is not forever. It would be wise to start early while you’re in your prime for childbaring."
You stare at him.
“Does that sound agreeable?”
“It’s…” You swallow. “It’s a lot.”
“I know.” He lifts your knuckles to his lips, a soothing gesture. “But you will never have to worry. I will provide a safe, respectable life. You will have a devoted husband in me.”
“Sure is the dream,” you murmur.
“It is,” he says, missing the tone entirely. “And I have worked very hard to build it for you.”
After the meal, you walk the wooden sidewalks. The boards creak beneath his polished shoes. Dust settles along the hem of his trousers no matter how he tries to avoid it.
“You must allow me to buy you a new gown,” he insists brightly. “Something to commemorate our first outing.”
“I have plenty already. My armoire’s near bursting.”
“Ah, but in Saint Denis you’ll have an entire dressing room for yourself. You’ll need something to fill it.”
You pause. A whole room? Only the wealthiest of women had entire rooms dedicated to clothes.
He smiles, recognizing the awe on your face.
“I believe I’ve won our first disagreement,” he says, clearly pleased. “Though I assure you, I don’t intend to make a habit of contradictin’ my sweet intended.”
“I’d like the finest gown you have for my betrothed,” he calls to the shopkeeper as the door swings shut behind you.
The shopkeeper scratches his jaw. “Ain’t got much call the ‘finest.’ Best one’s been sittin’ on the top shelf near a year.”
“If it suits her, we’ll take it.”
He scoffs at his confidence. “It’ll cost ya ninety dollars.”
You don’t even have time to react before Edward is rifling through his wallet. He lays the bills down flat against the counter without hesitation.
“Done.”
Both you and the shopkeeper stare at the money.
“That’s too much-”
He cuts you off gently. “Just you wait until Saint Denis. This is nothing.”
The shopkeeper hands you the box and points toward the small dressing room in the back.
The gown was your favorite shade of blue, complimenting your skin tone. The corset cinches you neatly, shaping your curves just right. It’s as though it had been waiting for you.
When you step back out, Edward goes still.
He removes his hat, holding it against his chest like a man witnessing something sacred.
“Please have her previous gown delivered to Saint Denis,” he tells the shopkeeper, adding two extra dollars to the counter. Then he offers you his arm.
“How do you like it?” His attention is unwavering as he escorts you outside.
You glance down at yourself, a smile curling onto your lips. “I feel rather pretty,” you admit.
He leans close, his mouth near your ear. “It appears I’ll need to increase your tailor allowance if this is the result.”
A giggle breaks from your lips just as he presses a slow and tender kiss to your cheek.
And that’s when you feel it.
You look up.
Across the street, half-shadowed beneath the awning of the hotel, stands Arthur.
His expression doesn’t change. But his jaw is set hard enough to cut glass. His hand rests on his holstered revolver until his knuckles turn white.
Your smile vanishes and stomach drops. Your heart pounds so loud you’re certain Edward must hear it.
How could you forget?
Even for a moment?
Arthur doesn’t move. Doesn’t call out. Doesn’t look away.
“I’m rather tired,” you say quickly, eyes lifting toward the sinking sun. “Would you escort me home?”
“Of course.” Edward adjusts his hat and leads you down the boardwalk.
He speaks the entire walk about renovations to the Saint Denis house, about a garden he intends to expand, about which rooms might serve as nurseries.
You don’t hear a word.
It isn’t as though you and Arthur ever made promises. There was never a ring. Never a vow. Only something wordless. Unnamed.
So why does it feel like betrayal?
“I had a lovely day,” Edward says once you reach your porch, lifting your hand to his lips again.
“As did I.” Your eyes do not smile back.
“Until next time.”
He steps down from the porch.
You wait until the door is shut and the lock clicks into place before you exhale.
Your hands tremble as you pull away from it.
Upstairs, your room is bathed in pink light, the sky outside bleeding into dusk. The new gown feels too tight, like it’s constricting you.
You begin to pace without realizing it.
Seven bedrooms. Four children. Saint Denis.
Arthur’s eyes… the pain behind them.
The sound comes from outside your window. The soft rustle of leaves and flapping of startled birds was not caused by the wind.
You freeze before rushing to the window to shove it open.
“You can’t be here. My father could come home early.” You say in a panicked whisper as if your father were downstairs now.
Arthur doesn’t answer. He plants his hands on the sill and hauls himself inside in one fluid motion. The room feels smaller the second his boots hit the floor. He's quiet as he looks around your room. He looks wildly out of place— a large gruff outlaw in a room full of lace and porcelain.
“He make you happy?” That deep voice of his breaks the silence.
“Arthur, don’t-”
“Look.” His jaw flexes, unable to make eye contact. “I know we ain’t promised each other nothin’. So if he’s what ya want… just say the word. I’ll see myself out.”
You should.
You should tell him to go. End it clean. End it now.
But the words stall in your throat.
“It ain’t like that.” You step closer, placing a hand on his arm. The muscle tightens beneath your palm, but he doesn’t pull away. “My father arranged it. I didn’t even know until days ago.”
“You didn’t look too broken up about it.” He scoffed
“I didn’t kiss him back.” You search his face. “And I didn’t share his bed.”
His eyes finally meet yours. “You want to?”
The way he asks it sends a chill through you.
“No.”
He studies you, unconvinced.
“No,” you repeat, firmer.
Silence stretches.
“I saw the way he looked at you,” Arthur mutters, beginning to pace. He runs a hand along the edge of your dresser, glances at the small trinkets you’ve collected over the years—several, he’s gifted you after his adventures.
“And how did he look at me?”
Arthur turns back slowly.
“The same way I do.”
The air leaves your lungs.
He steps closer again, stopping just short of touching you. His fingers brush the blue fabric at your waist, not quite daring to hold it.
“I ain’t seen this before,” he says quietly, brows furrowing. “It’s new.”
“It is.” You replied simply, hoping he won’t press.
“Did he buy it?”
You didn’t want to answer, knowing exactly what he’s getting at.
“Yes.” You lift your chin. “It was a kind gesture.” The attempt to justify the purchase didn’t work.
Arthur’s gaze drags over the dress, the way it fits you, the way it doesn’t belong in this room any more than he does.
“Kind,” he repeats, not convinced.
His hand lifts, but instead of roaming, it stops at your waist, feeling the bones of the corset underneath.
“Men like him don’t spend this much money on a gown just to be kind.” His jaw clenches. “He was thinkin’ about takin’ you away,” Arthur continues, voice low but steady. “ ‘Bout whatever rich city he’ll marry you in. ‘Bout that life he’s built in his head.” His voice lowers. “ ‘Bout how much he wants to rip this dress off of you.”
Your heart stutters. “You don’t know that.”
“I do.” His gaze leaves your torso and back to your eyes while his hands move up to play with the deep neckline of your gown. “Come on, sweet thing, tell me you want this.” He practically pleads.
You get lost in his blue-green eyes as his breath ghosts over your lips. “I want you-“
A loud RIIP cut you off. You gasp as the top of your gown is violently torn into two—your breasts freed from the material.
“Arthur!” You’re cut off with a kiss that you instantly melt into.
Threads continue to snap as he tears the material open. “You know he could never worship ya like I can.” He growls and maneuvers you to your bed.
The cool air washed over your exposed skin as you laid down on your back. “God, we should stop.” You moan as he kisses down your neck.
“You wanna stop? Just tell me to stop and I will.” He looks up at you as he kisses your breasts. “Or, let me remind you all the ways that fool could never make you feel half as good as I can.”
He waits for your words, allowing his tongue to flick the hardening bud of your nipple.
Your back arches. “D-don’t stop”
With your permission, he yanks the rest of the gown off of you. “Get on your hands and knees.” He demands as he unbuttons his shirt.
You hesitate for a moment. This was new territory. “On my hands and knees?”
The shirt hits the ground with a light thud before he reaches out, grabbing your hips and flipping you over himself. “Hands. And. Knees.”
You squeak as you’re quickly turned around, hands finding purchase in the bedding beneath you. His belt buckle clinks before dropping to the floorboards.
“I saw your betrothed. That boy doesn’t have the balls go fuck you like I’m goin’ to.” His heavy cock slaps against your ass, leaving dabs of precum. “Just look how fast ya got all wet f’ me.” The tip of his cock slides up and down your slick lips before nuzzling against your aching weeping hole. “You want it don’t ya?”
“M-mhm.” You whine as you involuntarily buck back against him.
One of his calloused hands grips your hip while the other takes your shoulder before slowly sinking into you. Arthur hisses as your warm walls stretch and squeeze around him.
His head lulls back and half-mast eyes stare up at the canopy of your bed. “He wouldn’t last a second in this perfect cunt.”
Your arms wobble as a new type of pleasure washes over you. The first thrust is slow—meant to work your tight pussy open.
“Oh, god, Arthur.” You murmured, letting your head droop lazily.
After each roll of his hips, his speed picks up.
“Ya like that?” He punctuates with a sharp thrust to that sweet spot deep inside of you.
“Ah!” You yelp as he starts his brutal pace.
The vulgar sound of your skin slapping together fills the room. Each of his desperate thrusts are met with a grunt.
“You didn’t answer my question.” The hand on your shoulder moves to your hair, tugging a fistful by the roots.
“I-It’s so good.” You mumble, that thick cock of his, making it difficult to speak normally.
God, the way you sounded made him even more feral. “That son of a bitch won’t have any- ngh- any fucking clue what to do if he had this pretty pussy all to himself. Just look at ya. You're practically drooling.”
He pulls your head back further, allowing him to get a good look at you. Your eyes roll back in bliss and jaw slack, spilling the sweetest high pitched gasps and moans. This is what he fought for—your pleasure. He loved it. He was addicted to it. Arthur would give a thousand lives just for you to feel good.
“D-don’t be mean to Edward.”
His movements stuttered.
Those rough hands digging into you, follow the curves of your body to your ass. SMACK.
“Don’t say his fucking name while you’re pussy’s squeezing my cock!”
The swat stung. You expected to hate it, and yet… you didn’t. His pace didn’t dare let up. Unable to hold your own weight, your arms give out.
“Mhm,” you hum your acknowledgement into the pillow.
The mess between you two grew. Arthur couldn’t get enough of it. He had to watch the way his cock split you open. Both hands grabbed your ass, pulling them apart for him to watch the way his cock pumped in and out of your sopping cunt. With every stroke was a loud sloppy squelch. Around the base of his cock, a ring of peal formed and smeared between you.
He moaned and gritted his teeth. “He don’t deserve ya. He don’t deserve this.”
Arthur lost all control at that point. He bucked wildly. Every nerve grew more sensitive with every passing second. The tip of his cock rammed into your g-spot over and over forcing his name from your lungs.
PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP
The ornate wooden headboard of your bed hit the wall of your room, echoing a heavy THUNK THUNK THUNK throughout the room. The delicate wallpaper you begged your father for, less than a year ago, began to tear where the bedframe scraped your wall.
“Arthur!” You shriek in ecstasy.
He now pushed on your back, deepening the arch to get a deeper angle. Your toes curled and thighs quivered. It wasn’t enough, though. He plants his right foot beside your hip on the bed, driving more power into you.
“Ah, shit!” He hisses as your cunt constricts his swollen, aching cock. “That- that’s it! You’re close f’ me ain’t ya!”.
“Y-yes! Oh, Arthur! I can’t take much more!” Your nails dig into the sheets, fisting them as you fight back your impending orgasm.
“C-cum. Cum for me. Scream my name, darlin!” He barked.
Within seconds, you’re roaring Arthur’s name. Waves of euphoria hit you as he fucks you through your high.
“That’s ma girl!” He moans. “Your gonna milk me dry, fuck!”
There was one last sharp thrust before he was spilling himself in you. You could feel his cock twitching and throbbing as he came. A few soft whimpers left your lips as he slowly rode out his high. He couldn’t hear it as he murmured a series of praises. That man adored you.
The bed finally stopped creaking and only your labored breaths could be heard. Arthur reluctantly slid out of you, leaving a leaky mess between your thighs.
“Ya alright?” His worn voice asks as presses a long kiss to your dewy temple.
“Wonderful.” You hum in content.
With a groan from his sore body, he rolls to lay beside you. Even after several nights together, he was still teaching you new things—showing you all the ways one can be worshipped.
He doesn’t speak at first. You know that look, though. Quiet. Calculating. His mind is moving faster than he lets on.
“What?” you ask, shifting upright. You draw the sheet to your chest for modesty, suddenly aware of your bare skin.
He exhales slowly. “What’re we gonna do?”
For a little while, you’d almost forgotten there was anything outside this room. No betrothals. No Saint Denis. No father. No responsibilities.
“I- I don’t quite know.” You frown. “Arthur… I’ve been promised to another man.”
There’s another beat of silence before he speaks again. “You’re beyond my wildest dreams,” he says softly. “I ain’t lettin’ him take ya without a fight.” He brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the soft skin. “Until the day you tell me it’s over, imma fight for you… for us. Got that?”
You search his face. He isn’t smiling. He isn’t teasing. He means it with his whole chest.
“And what if my daddy won’t let me call it off?” you whisper. “You know he wouldn’t hesitate to rush the wedding if he suspected anythin’ between us. Lord knows I can’t convince him overnight.”
Arthur leans back against the headboard, thinking.
“Then we’ll run away.” He shrugs like it’s as simple as tying your shoes.
You scoff. “That easy, huh?”
“It ain’t easy.”
“And what if I’m not built for that life?” You gesture vaguely toward the window, toward the world he belongs to. “I’ve never slept under the stars. I’ve never had dirt under my nails.”
He looks at your hands. Soft. Carefully kept.
Then back at you.
He doesn’t lie to you—he wouldn’t.
“It’s hard,” he says. “It’s cold. It’s hungry some nights. And it sure as hell ain’t safe.” There’s no romance in his tone. “Edward can give you comfort,” he continues. “A house. Security. All the things I can’t guarantee right now.” It painted him to admit it to you. “But I can promise you this: I won’t cage you.” His eyes lock onto yours. “You get to choose your life. Not your daddy. Not your fiance. And not me.”
You swallow.
“Let him take you out,” Arthur adds, though the words taste bitter. “Let him show you what he’s offerin’. I’ll do the same. I’ll show you what life with me really is. The good stuff n’ bad.”
His thumb brushes over your wrist absentmindedly.
“And then you decide, fair ‘n square.”
You study him—this outlaw with nothing but a horse and stolen loot to his name, pleading for merely the chance.
“Does that sound like a fair deal?”
“Deal.”
Chapter 4 Coming Soon…
A/N: I wasn’t sure if those who asked to be tagged in the next chapter want to be apart of the series tag list so just lmk!
“Tag Me for Ch. 3 List”: @forverlostinspace @arthursdodobird @grussellsprout @saturnknows @b0nel3ss-bastard @edgarapoecolouredglasses
Series Tag List: @saturnknows @edgarapoecolouredglasses @b0nel3ss-bastard @girlontheblock @creamcakke @poisonedcowgirl @blueskies664 @macaroonsdrawz-blog
Warnings: Enemies to lovers-ish, Alcohol, SMUT (hate sex, doggy & missionary, rough, spanking) Arguing During Sex, A River in Egypt.
Word Count: 2,600+
Summary: You got forced into going to the infamous Murphy Halloween Party and, of course, Javier is there making things worse. At least he’s hot.
A/N: It’s been almost 5 years since I’ve written for Javi. The man that started it all. It’s good it be back.
You hated Javier, and Javier hated you.
Unfortunately, you were co-workers, forced to share not just an office, but the same apartment building in Bogotá. One floor apart, thank god, but still too close.
After one too many drinks celebrating a mission gone right, it happened. You slept together. The next morning, you agreed it was a mistake. You promised each other it would never be discussed or happen again. Only one of those promises was kept.
Now, at least once a week, you “destress” together. That’s what you called it, anyway. Always claiming it was “Just for tonight.”
Liars.
For Javier, it was convenient. No need for small talk at the bar, no wasted nights chasing strangers, and it saved him a few bucks. You were irritating, sure, but you were also hot, and for him, that made it easy to forget the rest.
For you, dating was a headache, work was chaos, and Javier… well, he was infuriatingly good with his dick.
Which brought you here: Steve and Connie’s annual Halloween party. The music was loud and everything was decorated with corny spooky decor. Their friends, agents and their partners crowded the living room and kitchen. You didn’t care for most of them, so you kept to the sidelines with a glass of the good wine Connie had set aside just for you.
Originally, you planned on a night in to use the holiday as an excuse to eat candy and drink. But after relentless pestering from Steve at work and Connie ambushing you in the lobby of the apartment building, you caved.
You kept it simple. A long black dress, dark eyeshadow, red lipstick, and your hair done just enough to look like you tried.
The Murphys had gone all out—Marty McFly and Doc Brown. Connie, of course, was Doc, her lab coat already streaked with “vampire punch” as she belted out lyrics from the coffee table, cup in hand, unknown how many refills she’s had.
You snorted into your drink, amused by the sight, until movement caught your attention from the corner of your eye. A few other wallflowers move to join in on the dancing, and that’s when you saw him.
Javier Peña.
Your smile immediately fell into, mirroring his look of horror. “Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!”
“No! Why are you Morticia!”
“Why are you Gomez! You never dress up!”
“I know,“ He grumbled, stepping beside you. “The Murphys forced me to. Steve promised he’d do my paperwork if I showed up in a costume.”
“But Gomez?”
“It’s a black suit and mustache. I have both of those. What’s your excuse?”
Before you could bite back, Connie’s voice cut through the noise. “Hey, you two- oh my god! Did you plan this-”
“No!” You and Javier protested in unison.
They both froze, startled by your synchronized shout. “Oh. Uh… Well,” Steve said with a grin, “you guys look good.”
You rolled your eyes and took another sip, shifting so your back faced Javier, closing him off, or at least pretending to. Your cheeks burned, but you told yourself it was the alcohol and stuffiness of the party.
The Murphys exchanged a quick look before awkwardly retreating toward the makeshift dance floor.
You took the opportunity to drain what was left in your glass and make your way to the punch bowl. The one responsible for Connie’s current carefree state.
Javier had the same idea. A few minutes later, he was standing a few feet away, leaning against the wall, nursing his drink like it would make him invisible.
This wasn’t the first time someone had grouped the two of you. Random agents, even Steve and Connie, had joked about how alike you were, how you’d make a cute couple. Two sides of the same coin.
You never saw it. You didn’t want to.
But as you caught the reflection of you two in the window. Both of you had your arms crossed, holding a half empty glass, watching the party, in complimenting costumes. Maybe for once, they weren’t completely wrong.
A good pair, though? You’d never go that far.
“So… you doing anything after this?” His voice cut through the music and chatter, low and rough enough to pull your attention away from the crowd.
The question shouldn’t have surprised you. He asked it often enough.
“No,” you replied simply, glancing over your shoulder. “You?”
“No.”
Silence settled between you as you both watched Connie and Steve making out drunkenly in the crowd.
It was always like this. Every year.
In twenty minutes, something would break, or someone would start a fight—both if you’re lucky. Give it another thirtyfive, and people would be passed out on couches or throwing up in the bathroom. Twenty after that, Connie goes to bed and everyone helps Steve clean up before they stumble back to their apartment, ready for tomorrow's inevitable hangover.
And still, they kept throwing these parties, and people kept attending. What a nightmare.
“You wanna-” you started, at the same time he did.
Your eyes met, both knowing exactly where this was headed.
“Just for tonight.”
A statement that had to be said every time. Insurance that it wasn’t anything more but an itch being scratched.
The moment your apartment door shut, ensuring no other agents who lived in the building could see, Javier was all over you, kissing and groping shamelessly.
Your heels clicked against the floor, his shoes scuffed against it, the two of you stumbling your way down the short hall until arriving at your bedroom. One of his arms was snaked around your waist, keeping you against him. The other reached out, slamming the door shut to help muffle the noise and keep any of their co-worker-neighbors from catching on to your arrangement.
The last thing either of you wanted was for your names to be tied together for anything beyond work.
Your hands wove into his hair, undoing the cheap gel that slicked it back. You tugged until the curls fell loose, softer now. Back to those same curls you tugged on just a few nights ago while he buried his face into your sopping cunt and didn’t come out until you came at least twice.
Everything was fast and desperate—hands tugging at clothes until they hit the floor, one piece after another.
Your back met the bed, and his mouth found your neck as he climbed over you, breath hot and uneven. He began to suck and nip at your skin, and you pressed a hand to his chest, pushing him back just enough to meet his dark eyes with your unamused ones.
“No marks. Remember?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He exhaled sharply and rolled his eyes before flipping you onto all your hands and knees.
“I don’t need anyone asking about hickies. Nor do I want to remember it.”
“Ya know, you got a lot of attitude for someone so wet for me right now.” You gasp as his cock slides between your folds, collecting your arousal.
“Don’t pick now to be an asshole.”
His hands slide down the curve of your ass, squeezing the flesh. You feel the tip of his hard cock press against your opening.“I thought I was always an asshole in your eyes.” Without warning, he slams into you, burying himself in your pussy.
Your jaw drops as the air is knocked out of you. “What the fuck was that!” Your chest heaves, regaining your breath.
He smirks behind you, giving you a moment to adjust. “What? You took it just fine.” He coos, mockingly, giving you a few shallow thrusts. “Don’t be dramatic.”
“Dramatic?” You scoff and look over your shoulder at him. “Don’t act like you- MPHF! Ahh!”
The sudden speed of his cock positioning in and out of you, made you forget whatever you were going to say. Your body clenches around him with every thrust. His rough hands on your soft hips help him drive into you harder and faster.
“Finally you shut the fuck up.” He groans, letting his head tilt back and enjoy the warm and wet squeeze of your pussy. “Does that mean I need to start fucking you at work? Bend you over the desk anytime you start complaining about paper work.” He lets out a breathy chuckle. “Or maybe- ngh I’ll just fuck you in the evidence locker. It’s too bad you get too loud for me, huh?” He knew exactly how to get under your skin.
“G-go to h-h-hell.” Your voice trembled as the tip of his aching cock kissed that spot deep inside you that made you lose your mind.
He was ruthless like always. It’s what made the sex so good. You two always cut to the chase. No flirting, no dates, just raw needy sex.
Your arms give out, causing you to fall into the pillows, moaning and drooling. The bed creaked with each one of his powerful thrusts. The room quickly filled with the sounds of skin slapping over and over. Your moans mingling, only turning each other on even more.
“How are you always so fucking tight?” He presses a hand to the middle of your back making you arch even more, getting deeper. “You must really like me.” A smirk curls back onto his face, knowing anger was bubbling inside you.
“Ah- Ah! Y-you have the biggest fucking ego.” You groaned into the pillow. “You can run back to your brothels for all I care.”
Javier looks down between you. His cock drowning in your cunt while your walls pull him deeper in, never letting him get too far. “It’s okay. This little pussy is telling me everything I need to know.” He reaches around, finding your clit and rubbing it fast to match his pace.
The added sensation made you all the more desperate to cum. “Can’t you just shut the fuck up and fuck me!” Your hands fist the sheets and pillow.
He moves his hands back to your hips and then his leg, planting his foot on the bed beside your torso. It gave him just enough leverage to go faster and deeper. Immediately, he’s rewarded with your screams of ecstasy. His balls started slapping against your clit sending jolts of electricity through your veins.
His fingers were gripping your hips so tight, you were bound to have small bruises in the morning. Wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.
“Complain all you- ugh- want, but mphf you’re the one obsessed with me.”
“Obsessed with you?!” If he wasn’t hammering into you so perfectly, you’d smack him.
“You heard me.” He growled, adding a slap to your ass to punctuate his argument.
Your yelp was muffled in the pillow. “Y-you’re the one who chose to be Gomez Addams for Halloween when I was Mortica Addams!” You lifted your head back up to argue.
He scoffed and smacked your ass again. This one stinging a little more. “If I knew you were dressing up as her I would have picked someone else.”
“Or maybe- ngh ngh ngh- m-maybe you w-wanted to Gomez. Maybe you were stalking me just to fuck with me since you’re so obsessed.”
He pulled out, making you whimper. “Javi!” You shout in protest but find yourself being tossed onto your back instead. You looked down between you. His cock was red and eager to cum. It glistened with your arousal with streaks of cream from how incredible he fucks you.
“If you’re gonna accuse me of bullshit, you’re gonna look at me.” He slammed back into you, easy and fast due to your drenched cunt. Your back immediately arches off the bed and a moan rips through you. “You- Agh- seriously think, I’d stalk you to find out who you’re dressing as for Halloween? Are you insane?”
“Ngh! I- ah! I mean, out of e-everything, y-you decided to be him.” Your nails dig into his back, making him hiss. “That’s a p-pretty big fucking coincidence- ohhh fuck!”
Javier's head falls and he groans against your neck. He could feel himself getting close. His hands grip the sheets next to your head, making his knuckles turn white. His pace was relentless now as he thrusted hard and fast into you.
“I can a-assure you, I want nothing to do with you.” He bites your shoulder. “The last thing- mphf I’d want to be is your Gomez.”
“Thank fuck, c-cause I don’t w-want anyone to look at us like that. Ohhhh! Yes! Right there!”
The sound of wet plapping filled the room and the headboard beat against the wall. Javier grit his teeth against another guttural groan. He was getting close.
He slid one hand down to grip your thighs and bring your legs up onto his shoulders.
“Javi!” You scream.
You swore you were being split in half. The world blurred into stars, barely able to see the way your legs shake in the air. All you could hear are the sounds of your bodies moving desperately and his beautiful moans and labored breaths in your ear.
“You better fucking cum.” He grunts into your ear with every brutal thrust, sounding animalistic, possessed by the need for you.
“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” You squeal.
The thread snaps and your orgasm hits you, surging pleasure through every nerve.
Javier came almost immediately after you. Your moans and cries of his name were too much to bare. If you asked, though, he’d tell you it’s because of how your cunt throbbed around him, milking him for everything he’s got. But that wasn’t completely true.
He rode out your highs, moving until every last drop of pleasure was spent. When he pulled back, you noticed your lipstick smeared a bit on his lips. Your lips quirk up at the sight and with your thumb, you wipe it away. He does the same for you, cleaning up the edges.
After, he slowly pulled out, making you both hiss. He knew your thighs were probably aching so he carefully lowered the back to the bed before snatching the fresh towel you kept under the bed for these occasions. Without a word he cleaned up his cum that leaked from you and then his own glistening cock.
Afterward, he dropped back onto the bed, leaning against the headboard while you got comfortable against the pillows. He reached into your nightstand for his cigarette box and his lighter. The soft clink and flick of the flame broke the silence.
He held the cigarette for you. You leaned forward, lips brushing the filter as you inhaled. He watched from the corner of his eye, then brought it to his mouth when you were done.
The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the party down the hall and celebrating outside. Smoke curled toward the ceiling, catching the headlights that rolled through the blinds.
“God, fuck,” he groaned, forcing himself upright. His muscles protested as he rolled his neck, trying to mentally prepare to get dressed again.
You exhaled and turned on your side, your back toward him. “If you’re tired, just stay,” you muttered, trying to sound indifferent.
He didn’t answer. It was silent for a good minute. You started to think he somehow silently snuck off. Until the mattress dipped beside you and the sheets rustled.
“Just for tonight,” he said, voice rough from the night’s wear.
“Just for tonight,” you confirmed.
You both turned away from each other, a stretch of cool space between you. It meant nothing. It was convenient to stay the night—all of it was. It wasn’t common but it can happen. It’s just a bed. It’s not even like you cuddled.
At least… not on purpose.
Series Starting! Ch. 1 Coming soon!
A/N: Ngl this has mini series potential…
UPDATE: By popular demand, It’s getting a series. Ch. 1 comes out soon
Kinktober Tag List: @plu0725 @iristheplanet16
Permanent Tag List: @what-iwish-you-knew @infuriatinglyoptimistic @harriedandharassed
