ghost genuinely the typa guy to press his fingers against your wet pussy and show it to you when you say you're not aroused from all his dirty talk.

i might write this

he's so sweet when he whispers things into your ear, letting sex come by slowly for you, letting you adjust before going rough.

"hey, hey, just let me do all the work," he says, hands landing on your hips, stopping you from grinding against him. "i promise it'll feel good."

your body twitches every time he hits the spot, and he knows.

"ngh— kyle," you moan out his name, squirming underneath him for more.

"shh, it's okay, let me go a little deeper," he says. "stay there and just let me make you cum."

then, you let out an overwhelming gasp as he somehow goes deeper, tapping into your cervix as if it's nothing. your mind goes crazy, feeling every vein on his cock as he thrusts into you. you can't help but let out the lewd sounds that your mouth produces.

finally, orgasm comes quickly, letting you cover his cock with your essence before he joins in to paint your walls white with his load.

"i love you so much," he whispers, peppering kisses all over your neck.

he loves seeing tears streaming down your face as you take his cock over and over again, hitting your walls in all the right spots.

his eyes are riveted to your face in the mirror as it transforms into a fucked-out expression, watching as your make-up gets ruined and your mouth stays wide open to let out the moans.

everything about your face during sex just makes him want to ram his cock harder to make you scream louder, to make you cum for the millionth time that night.

that statement is true for both running, and sex. he finds fulfillment in showing you love every night, thrusting into you with a quickness you would never be able to keep up with.

he enjoys seeing your overstimulated body pliantly whimpering, only soft moans coming from you as you cum all over again. his cock is just as sore as your pussy, a burn radiating from it due to the friction.

there's something so mesmerising, so beautiful about how filthy you look after your fuck sessions. you think it's embarrassing, but he thinks you should embrace it. everything from your disheveled hair to your ruddied lips that you've been biting at for the past few hours is evidence of how much he loves you.

he knows he should probably slow down, but he can't— not when you're desperate and begging for more.

he ignores when you hang around with other men, acting as if he doesn't care but he does. you don't notice the eyes behind the mask that follow your figure, watching as you interact with men he doesn't want you to talk to.

but he doesn't stop you.

he still continues to fuck you every day, making you cum repeatedly until all you can think about is his dick. he would think of those men, pretending they were watching as he claimed ownership over your body, proving that he can fuck you so much better than them.

he enjoys watching you wobble and limp the day after, smirking as you stumble over your steps.

the reason he goes so rough is because he feels he has something to prove. to prove how much he loves you and how much he can give you if you let him be the sole partner, the one to be with you forever.

natasha's last thoughts were probably of you: her lover.

she hates that it had to come to this, to having to die to save the world.

that doesn't mean she doesn't feel an ounce of guilt though. there's a regret, arising as she blinks a few more times, letting the view blur before she meets her demise. there's pain gnawing at her, telling her she shouldn't have done it.

in the final moments, every memory of you she has is replayed, digging her deeper into the solemn pit of grief. reality starts to dawn on her when she realises you're going to be left all alone without her.

she hates that she won't be able to see you ever again, but there's a weird feeling of comfort that comes from knowing you'll forgive her. at some point in the future, you'll understand why she had to leave you, why she had to do what she did.

your name echoes in her head as a closing.

then it blacks out.

my nat :(

She loves the idea of public sex. The idea of flaunting you in front of everyone, or just the idea of making you cum. So, it wasn't shocking to learn about her fantasies with you in the steamy hot water.

Somehow, the sauna-spa has become her permanent office. It's relaxing but you're not sure about the practicality of it. There's a whole different idea in her mind though: finger-fucking you.

Most of her free time is spent shoving her thick fingers into you, watching as the ripples of water respond to your squirms as she hits the spot again and again. At this point, you're sure at least 1% of the water is really just your cum.

Your pussy twitches painfully, feeling the aggressive thrusts of her digits— one you know all too well.

The moment you pass out, you can hear her say: "That's it. Just let the pleasure take over your mind."