faithhearted
Hush.
660 posts
Last active 60 minutes ago
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Last Seen Blogs
bakurainmystic
Mystic Messenger Mess
pistabienesraices
Pista Bienes Raices
mediba-ce
mediba Creator × Engineer Blog
othabor
*screm*
ccerecruiter
Untitled
Text
Gently by the hand, Benjamin aided her in her descent upon the rug. Even through the fabric of her evening gloves, she could feel the finely decorated fibers as her fingers curled inward, the anticipation of his throbbing cock once again sheathing inside her utterly overwhelming while she lay there with her legs parted and limbs trembling.
But then she caught a glimpse of his eyes, alight with passion and illuminated by the brilliant moon’s glow. It was all she needed to be reassured and put at ease as he slid back into her. She tilted her head back and moaned as he swore from her involuntary contracting. Their lips met and she sighed into his mouth, feeling safe in his grasp even as his pace increased.
Her walls were already sensitive from her orgasm, spasming in waves of pleasure in recollection of the feeling as she’d peaked with his fingers inside her and his thumb gliding over her clit. The harder he panted kept in tandem with his haphazard grinding, enough for Moira to know that he was reaching a climax of his own.
Good. It didn’t matter so much to her if she came again so quickly. What she wanted was for her to finish inside of her, to fill her with his lustful ardor so that there was a chance that their coupling would lead to an even deeper bond.
To make certain he did so, she tugged on his hair and pressed her forehead to his, pink cheeked and breathless as she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and crossed her ankles together, unable to verbally beg him in her reeling state.
I need you, she thought. I need you forever…
Moira snagged her nails against his coat, gripping him tightly between her thighs as he rocked slowly into her heat. Each thrust had her mewling in his ear, her sounds rising in a fevered pitch the deeper he drove.
Cheek pressing into hers, Benjamin groaned and shuddered once her tongue traced along his pulse. A responsive heat throbbed through his cock and he panted, her teeth catching on his earlobe once she gave her earnest plea.
“Make me yours…”
"W-wait..." Nuzzling her, Benjamin slipped free of her warmth with visible difficulty, nearly stumbling as he pulled himself from between her legs. "The floor," he explained, near-delirious with sensation. To continue against the harpsichord seemed detrimental -- foolish, if it was loud enough to give them away -- and taking Moira's hand, he gently guided her until she was sprawled across the ornate rug at their feet.
Bunching up her skirts, Benjamin resituated himself between her spread legs, and then drove back inside her with a gusting groan, his teeth gritting as Moira clenched around his re-entry.
"Fuck," he swore. Panting, he brushed his nose over hers before claiming her mouth in another kiss, sweetly gentle in contrast to the harsh, ardent aggression between her thighs. Devouring her moans beneath his lips, he increased the force behind his thrusts, his hips snapping steadily into hers as moonlight spilled over their writhing bodies and bathed Moira in an ethereal glow.
Cradling her face between his hands, Benjamin lapped at her mouth and kept their hips grinding at a deep and desperate pace. He didn't know it was possible to feel this much for another -- to cherish them, to love them -- but with her hands in his hair, and his moans caught between their lips, he felt oddly invincible there amidst the trappings of war and heartache.
39 notes
·
View notes
Photo
TURИ - Abraham Woodhull + prison
Requested by Anon
102 notes
·
View notes
Photo
pınar deniz as yildiz in vatanım sensin : episode four ( 2016 ).
388 notes
·
View notes
Text
TURN: WASHINGTON'S SPIES — 3.08
Costume design by Lahly Poore-Ericson & Hair by Ardis Cohen
172 notes
·
View notes
Text
Aaron Tveit as Adam
• American Horror Stories (S01E02)
Rubber(wo)man: Part Two
54 notes
·
View notes
Photo
The first man to tell me the true name of our agent Culper will be traded to safety on Saturday, the other man will hang tomorrow. [silence] They don’t know.
turn | 3x01 | valediction
377 notes
·
View notes
Text
"God save the King"┃Hornblower (The Even Chance)
90 notes
·
View notes
Text
NATALIE DORMER as ANNE BOLEYN (1 - ∞)
in THE TUDORS (2007-2010) | 1X03 'Wolsey, Wolsey, Wolsey!'
for Anon.
249 notes
·
View notes
Text
Every touch was tender and mindful. It amazed Peggy that Benjamin was so kind, gentle, and loving for a man that had seen such gruesome horrors in his short life. But perhaps, Peggy thought, that was exactly why he was so. He’d learned to take nothing fragile and innocent about the world for granted. Nothing, after all, as they both well knew, could stay that way forever.
"I should love to marry you, Miss Shippen.”
Though she appeared stunned, she squeezed his hand all the tighter in return.
“I know I don't have much to my name, nor would your father approve, but...I'm hoping that my position in this army might at the very least earn me his favor."
“After saving me the way you did, I highly doubt he’ll have any reservations with giving you his blessing,” she insisted, “I’m certain of it, in fact.”
Tearing up, she leaned forward and cradled his face, kissing him in a similar fashion to the night he’d departed from her all those weeks ago.
—
By the afternoon, however, her fears proved to be painfully true. Outraged by the betrayal, Washington refused to permit Peggy’s presence in the camp, claiming that not even a woman, especially the widow of Benedict Arnold, could be trusted.
He’d given orders to have her taken back to Philadelphia immediately, and in the twilight hours, she was standing in front of a carriage, mustering all the strength she had left within her breast not to collapse from the sheer distress and heartbreak.
Once again, she was to be torn away from the man she loved. It was as though she was never meant to be blessed with knowing the happiness of lasting love.
“Now I know myself to be cursed, for just as we are to be married, we are forced away from each other,” she wept to Benjamin as she threw her arms around him tightly, “How am I to survive without you, my darling?”
She didn’t care if she was being melodramatic (or so her mother would surely say). She was beside herself with anguish.
“Is this all we are to know together? Distance and grief?”
“Don’t be,” Peggy all but bit back. “Let that beast rot at the bottom of the river for eternity.”
Benjamin gaped back at her, genuinely stunned by her vitriol. Despite his own misgivings against Arnold, he'd still held fast to the hope that one day, the man might repent and turn himself in; that he could still live up to the thrilling, larger-than-life tales told of his valor.
Lowering his eyes, Benjamin squeezed her hands. "I'm sorry I couldn't see it," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. I am the head of intelligence -- an agent -- and yet I allowed myself to be blinded by starry-eyed naiveté. It would seem that even our heroes can be monsters..."
Peggy's expression softened. “I’m sorry," she soothed. "I’m certain that learning of his treachery wasn’t easy for you…but please know that there was nothing you could have done to truly save him. Benedict was cruel and greedy, and all that mattered to him in the end was glory.”
Benjamin breathed a mirthless laugh. "Was there truly nothing?" he softly asked. "Perhaps it's the soldier in me, but I can scarcely accept that...I don't believe that there's never an alternative, no matter how slight nor impossible. But you're right..." He exhaled. "That man who grabbed you is not the soldier I once knew. It was as though he was taken over...possessed."
Peggy's hand splayed over his heart, gentle and true. “Please don’t despair, my love,” she entreated. “This is not your doing.”
With a feeble smile, he ducked his head and kissed her knuckles, his lips lingering amidst his affection. "I won't despair," he promised. "God took away our great general, but he gave me you -- a far greater treasure." Sheepish, he stroked his fingers over her knuckles. "Once you're recovered, we can get you properly settled into camp...and then, should you permit it...I would like to be...ah..." Cheeks growing pink, he held her hand all the tighter. Quickly, he said in a rush, "I should love to marry you, Miss Shippen. I know I don't have much to my name, nor would you father approve, but...I'm hoping that my position in this army might at the very least earn me his favor."
60 notes
·
View notes
Photo
CLARA PAGET as ANNE BONNY in BLACK SAILS (2014 - 2017) Season 3, Episode 1
616 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Forgive me, but I thought my feelings were relatively plain on this matter...or do you think I'd just be intimate with anyone who offers?"
Anna responded with a soft laugh of disbelief and a shake of her head, “Is it so outlandish that I would ask anyway? I’m a widow and I have three children to think of, Ben. Those are not factors you – or any man for that matter – asks for. These are things that need careful consideration.”
"You may have children, but I love them...you may be older, but I love you -- and I always have."
Hearing it declared out loud in such a manner gave her pause and Anna tried her best not to grin like a complete idiot. I love you too, she wanted to say, but stopped herself for fear of moving too fast too quickly. There was still much to be discussed.
"Perhaps it's unwise to sleep with a friend,” he continued, as though reading her mind, “But I also felt oddly safe and secure for my first time.
How strange to think that she’d taken the virginity of her best friend. The experience had reminded her a bit of her first time as well, how eager she’d been on her wedding night with Selah. She too had felt safe in her husband’s arms despite her uncertainty and naiveté, which she’d tried so hard to mask with confidence.
“Well..."
“Well what?”
"Perhaps not so safe when you all but attacked me, but the sentiment remains."
When Ben took her hand, Anna sighed and used her free hand to tuck the mess of loose hair behind his ear.
"What are you so afraid of, Anna? For as long as I've known you, I've never seen you afraid of anything. Why start now? Why start with me?"
“I’m not afraid,” she responded, a little offended that he thought so, “I just need to be certain that you understand what it is you’re asking for…I’ve nothing to give you but myself and three children that are not your own. Making a life with me will not be the same as starting out with a bright eyed and shiny new wife and I need to know that this is for certain, what you want, and that you've considered all your options before taking such a leap of faith.”
“You melted into me like butter in the sun.”
"Butter in a pan, more like," Benjamin replied, deciding to play in to her ego. "I caved pretty quickly, all things considered... But then again, to deny your hands-on approach would've been rude." Smirking, he lightly flicked a handful of bathtub water in her direction, chuckling as she approached. "What? Nothing to say now?"
Anna's expression grew guarded as she folded her arms. “What do you think it was?” she challenged.
Smile wiping clean, Benjamin furrowed his brow. "You're answering my question with a deflection?"
Wincing, she amended, “What do you want it to be?”
For God's sake...
Exhaling, he reclined in the tub and drew a hand over his eyes, tempted to sink down underneath the tepid water. "Forgive me, but I thought my feelings were relatively plain on this matter...or do you think I'd just be intimate with anyone who offers?"
Sliding his hand from his face, Benjamin peered up at her with long-lashed resignation. "You may have children, but I love them...you may be older, but I love you -- and I always have." He shrugged. "Perhaps it's unwise to sleep with a friend, but I also felt oddly safe and secure for my first time. Well..." Here, he offered a sheepish smile. "Perhaps not so safe when you all but attacked me, but the sentiment remains."
Sitting up straight, Benjamin reached for her hand. "What are you so afraid of, Anna? For as long as I've known you, I've never seen you afraid of anything. Why start now? Why start with me?"
72 notes
·
View notes
Text
AARON TVEIT as Danny Bailey
SCHMIGADOON! Season 1
89 notes
·
View notes
Text
Despite her horror, Ben’s laughter over the ludicrous situation sated her into a small laughing fit of her own as she shook her head and ran her hand down her face.
“Isn’t this just our luck?” she chortled.
Well, maybe if you'd been able to control yourself, we could've erred on the side of caution," he teased.
“You melted into me like butter in the sun.”
Ben didn’t seemed very phased, smugly grinned as he leaned back in the tub, "If nothing else, you should be proud Keturah is so discerning -- but also concerned, because this means Brewster might have been...well...a little too forthcoming with his late night talks."
That earned a dejected sigh, “Keturah is too clever for her own good, without Brewster’s influence…”
"Should we lie, or...? W-well, yes, we should naturally lie in the sense we should gloss over what truly occurred, but...?"
Anna held her breath.
"What should we tell them, Anna? What even was this?"
An error in judgment, she wanted to say, but while that was partially true, it was hardly something she regretted. For some time now, she’d been viewing Ben in a different light, one she hadn’t been able to determine as romantic until that night on the enemy’s boat.
Since then, she’d been rattled with uncertainty about how to approach it. Many a night she’d spent restlessly tossing and turning as she tried her hardest to shove the feelings down – far from her heart and mind, but it’d been so pathetically futile. The man had moved her in ways she’d been unyielding since Selah’s death. He made her feel things she didn’t believe herself capable of ever feeling again.
But what of Ben? Just because he’d pined for her as a child, and as a young man, that didn’t mean he necessarily felt things for her akin to true love. Had he merely given into a nostalgic desire, or did he want her just as fervently as he once had? She couldn’t be sure.
Arms folded, she shrugged and gestured toward him, approaching the tub slowly, “What do you think it was?” No, maybe that wasn’t the right question, “What do you want it to be?”
“Do I detect a hint of sarcasm, Ben?”
He snorted. "Am I ever not sarcastic? You have a way of drawing it out of me."
Anna hummed in reproach. “For someone who just knocked boots for the first time, one might think you’d be a little more kind to the woman that consented to it. Besides, you were the one who was lying on his back, begging to be ridden. If anything, you're far dirtier than I am.”
"I...I did not beg," Benjamin replied, his cheeks burning pink. "If you really must know, I just gave enthusiastic encouragement. Building morale tends to work for my men, so why not a lover?" Working his fingers through her hair with a thorough briskness, he tried not to smile at Anna's clear battle with sternness versus pleasure. She all but wilted against his chest, leaning into his washing hands with a soft sigh.
“Mama, why are you in the bath with Uncle Ben?”
He sat upright on instinct, holding fast to Anna's waist with his soapy hands.
In the tent entrance were Thomas, Mary and Keturah, the latter proving quite suspicious as she appraised them with mounting skepticism. The youngest, mercifully, seemed oblivious to any potential untoward behavior, and gleefully rushed forward, bouncing alongside the tub while grasping at the rim.
While Thomas begged to go swimming, and Anna practically flew out of the tub in a blur of naked haste, Benjamin dissolved into a soft fit of laughter, his hand slinging over his eyes at the sheer absurdity of their poor luck.
Anna started corralling her brood toward the tent flaps, and while she demanded that they return to their quarters, Benjamin offered Thomas and Mary a sheepish wave. They enthusiastically returned it before being shoved into the outdoors with Keturah.
“I…didn’t expect them to…They weren’t…” Horrorstricken, Anna turned back to him with wide, panicked eyes. “Well, this is going to be an interesting development…”
Benjamin hummed, miraculously unbothered. "Well, maybe if you'd been able to control yourself, we could've erred on the side of caution," he teased. His expression was decidedly smug as he draped his arms around the back of the tub. "If nothing else, you should be proud Keturah is so discerning -- but also concerned, because this means Brewster might have been...well...a little too forthcoming with his late night talks."
Sighing, Benjamin ran his fingers through the lukewarm bathwater. "Should we lie, or...? W-well, yes, we should naturally lie in the sense we should gloss over what truly occurred, but...?" Here, his gaze shifted and he once more fell into a state of uncertainty. "What should we tell them, Anna? What even was this?"
72 notes
·
View notes
Text
In the soft afternoon light, warm and shimmering gold, Ben burned like an autumn fire, smoldering, wild, and bright. Shite. Had he always been this beautiful, or was it the possibility of losing him forever that made it so? His smile was electric, sending shivers through her body as he kissed her brow.
"You're truly like no other."
“Don’t bullshit me, Tallmadge,” she playfully threatened, reaching down between them to teasingly cup his bullocks, “I’ll use your ball sack for a coin purse.”
His gentle affections were enough to tame her, soothe her, and she quietly relinquished him in favor of wrapping her arms around him and idly tracing patterns into his bare stomach as their legs intertwined.
"Write what?" he jested. "A to-do list? Or perhaps that list of books I threatened you with two summers ago -- the one that'd allegedly turn you into a lady?"
“If you want a lady, go to Philadelphia, arsehole. What you see before you is what you get.”
Closing her eyes as he pulled her closer, Kitty tried to shove down the ever growing twinge of pain in her chest, that irritating reminder of their bleak reality.
"I'll write you. Does the lady have any specific requests?"
“Just two,” she murmured, glancing upward with a newfound seriousness in her eyes, “Don’t lie…and don’t die.”
Keeping his hazy vision focused on the clouds up above, Benjamin tilted his head back and shuddered. Katherine claimed she'd never done this before, and yet he certainly felt upended with her mouth around him, sweet and languid before she crawled her way back up to collapse alongside him.
Breathing heavily, he managed a soft laugh. "Was that really necessary?" he asked, lolling his head to the side to meet with her gaze. "When I said I had eight more lives to go, I didn't truly want to lose anymore...though you pled an excellent case."
Eyes crinkling warmly around the edges, Benjamin leaned forward and pressed a fervent kiss to her brow, soft and warm. "You're truly like no other," he murmured.
"Write to me..." Katherine's vibrant eyes lifted to meet with his own.
Nuzzling his cheek into hers, he tried to ignore the frantic wobble of his pulse. "Write what?" he quipped. "A to-do list? Or perhaps that list of books I threatened you with two summers ago -- the one that'd allegedly turn you into a lady?"
Squeezing her fondly around the middle, Benjamin edged his chin into her shoulder and exhaled. "I'll write you," he softly agreed. As if I could write anyone else. "Does the lady have any specific requests?"
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
"You have me -- all of me."
Was she a hopelessly romantic and empty headed little fool to believe him? Would this be one of the many stories of a fleeting season of love with a soldier who would leave her high and dry after she’d given him everything she had to offer? As he smeared his lips along her neck, she couldn’t think straight enough to determine an answer.
With his tip at her entrance, she could hardly stand the wait, nearly begging him to move forward, only to be cut off by his quick hoisting of her legs to anchor on his waist and silencing her cries with his eager mouth. As he entered her, he groaned and she moaned with every careful thrust. Her hands fell to his back and she dug her nails into his fine blue coat. Fuck. Fucking Fuck!
Burying her face against the crook of his neck, she slowly rolled her hips to better receive him, the blasted instrument beneath her playing a series of unmatching notes. Then his throbbing cock hit a point so deep inside her that she was forced to stifle a gasp, electing to drag her tongue along his pulse, stopping at his ear to nip his lobe and mewling softly.
"More? Can I...c-can I move?"
“Yes…” she whimpered, “Yes, please…”
She wanted to lie back, but the way she was seated upon the keys made it impossible for her to do so. Instead, her legs clung tighter around him, gathering him up and urging him to continue.
“Make me yours…”
“The moment I read that you’d agreed to be my Robin, my darling suitor, I only ever wanted to…” Moira paused, yet Benjamin found it impossible to stop, his lips trailing up her throat as she arched her neck. “To be with you…only you…”
Her fervent declaration made his head spin, and elated, he just as breathlessly assured her, "You have me -- all of me." I am entirely yours. No one else's.
Dropping the fall front of his breeches, Benjamin gave a soft hiss of pleasure when Moira wrapped her legs around him, drawing him forward until he was grinding against her folds. To feel her so slick, so sopping made him shudder, and catching his weight against the harpsichord, his knees nearly buckled once she rolled up to meet his languid thrusts.
“I want your cock,” she gasped, tugging harshly at his hair, “and I want you to finish inside me…”
Stunned, he peered back at her in open-mouthed disbelief, panting into their half-kiss as their lips grazed with silent need. He wanted it too -- he wanted this, he wanted her -- and despite Benjamin's lack of experience, he didn't hesitate when he hoisted Moira's legs up to frame his waist, his mouth colliding harshly with hers to silence his low, throaty groan once he breached her heat and slid in to the hilt.
Fuck...
Scarcely able to breathe, he shuddered as she throbbed around him, clenching and welcoming his length more deeply inside her. Fumbling at the instrument beneath them, Benjamin moved his hips in a couple careful, sketching strokes, testing her comfort before he broke the kiss and appraised her with mounting desire.
"More?" he gasped, brushing his nose over hers. "Can I...c-can I move?"
Despite his careful movements, his gentle rocking between her thighs caused Moira's backside to press into the keys, creating yet another ugly dissonance each time he drove inside her.
39 notes
·
View notes
Text
favorite ceylin erguvan outfits — bolum. 56
106 notes
·
View notes
Text
He was adamant in refusing her. Rebekah had expected as much. Of course Ben was reluctant to send her into the lion’s den. But no longer did she think it was because he didn’t have confidence in her abilities. No. They’d long since passed such trivial things. Rather, she was certain it was because he cared too much for her to risk her.
The fear in his eyes was apparent, a burning fuel for his disgruntled low grade anger as he took her by the wrists as though it would anchor her well enough to make her listen.
"No...Bekah, you're not hearing me. You may not know Tryon and Mathews, but that doesn't mean they don't know of our tactics. Someone in camp has been feeding them intelligence, so God only knows what they know about us -- potentially you, as well."
“Even if they did somehow know of me, they’ve no way of knowing what I look like,” she insisted, “It isn’t as if ‘female with brown hair and brown eyes’ is an uncommon description to begin with.”
Gently freeing herself from his grasp, she elected to cradle his face, brushing her thumb along the light stubble that had begun to make itself known on his cheek, “Ben, we’re running out of options, and if we don’t act quickly, we could put this army at a severe disadvantage.”
Pausing briefly, she took in his eyes, always a slightly different shade of blue depending on his mood. Today, they were the color of an overcast sky, a clear indication of his worry and displeasure. With a sad fondness in her expression, she planted a fervent kiss to his forehead.
“You do so much for this Cause – for Washington, and you’ve continuously sacrificed and given more of yourself than there is to give and it’s likely you'll never be thanked for it…but know that I see it, and I thank you…”
Her confession was more than a distraction or a lulling tactic. She was being entirely honest.
“Please,” she pressed, “Let me do this. What if we set up a faux defector or have one of your agents enlist? They’d be trained in New York and that would be an in for us. I could pose as their wife -- get close to Matthews or Tryon with promises of affection.”
While he paced from one end of the tent to the other, Rebekah's voice carried over to him from her cot, soft and matter-of-fact. “You’re stuck here in camp,” she said. “How can you see the whole picture when you’re confined to one place, squinting through a limited spyglass?”
Benjamin offered a bitter smile. "It isn't as though I have much choice," he agreed. "I'm needed here at camp -- Washington can't afford to have all his officers gallivanting elsewhere -- so I'm afraid a limited view is inevitable."
Rebekah rose from her cot, her slight frame exhibiting the determination he'd long since grown to expect. “Send me to New York," she implored. "I can get close to Matthews and Tryon, and I’ll find out the extent of their involvement and any other plans they might have.”
"What?" Horrified, Benjamin was quick to shake his head. "No. Absolutely not. I've already lost far too many to this war -- my men, my friends..." Our son. Swallowing, he amended, "To risk you, as well... I just can't do it. I won't let you go by yourself to an area overflowing with redcoats."
Rebekah firmly took hold of his shoulders. "Let me be your eyes where you can't see."
Curling his hands around her wrists, Benjamin swallowed and shook his head. "No...Bekah, you're not hearing me. You may not know Tryon and Mathews, but that doesn't mean they don't know of our tactics. Someone in camp has been feeding them intelligence, so God only knows what they know about us -- potentially you, as well."
256 notes
·
View notes