#(in the women’s room fyi)

[asteroidaffection]

[fyi-iyanni]

Room Inspiration 💕✨

[madamechrissy]

♡ Time after Time ♡

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ CEO! Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Just sexual tension in this chap hehe, more explicit as we go. Gojo is really a dick at first FYI

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 4.2k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ Satoru Gojo is your boss And you've been his head assistant for over two years now. You do everything for him, including and not limited to cleaning his messes, picking out his clothes, and writing his speeches. Sixteen hour days... night calls... You are tired of being overworked and at his beck and call. You decide you are going to put in your two weeks notice. He is shocked, and wants to try to keep you, because you're the best. But you know better. Right? . You really wanna fucking quit. You also wanna fuck him. Also, fuck him.

A/N (Kinda has 'two weeks notice' vibes a bit! No use of y/n.) Fully finished. This was my first gojo fic so maybe a Lil less put together than my current ones

Masterlist-

Chapter 1

You looked up at him from your desk. You were tired, so damn tired. You needed a fucking break, a long one. Your mind wanders to that vacation away from Tokyo that will never happen, not because you don’t have vacation days or money. Nope, it was  because you work far too fucking much, twelve to sixteen hour days sometimes. For him, your damn boss, Satoru Gojo.

Always asking you to stay late, always running his errands, saving his ass, covering for him. Writing speeches, making presentations, finding him dates even. When Gojo wanted something, he got it, and it didn't matter if it ruined every plan you ever had, you had to get it done for him.

He ran casinos, owned a hotel, a nightclub, you name it, Satoru Gojo owned it. He’d inherited some from his family but mostly he was self made. Even the tower you worked in, Kamo Tower, was one of the best in the city. Everything Gojo touched seemed to turn to gold, or better yet platinum.

You had been so excited two years ago to be his intern, then ecstatic when you quickly moved up the ranks to be his head assistant. You made good money, enough to send home to your family and take care of them too. But you literally were constantly at that man's beck and call.

Your tired eyes lower as you rest your chin on your hand for a moment, for even last night at two am you'd had to run to his fucking rescue.

You were asleep, but the phone never stops fucking buzzing.

Dick boss: I need you.

You: no.

Dick boss: triple OT pay?

You: fuck. What is it?

Dick Boss: I'm in a bit of a bind…

The bind? Three passed out naked women in his bed, and a room destroyed, that he needed to get fixed so he could sleep. Yeah.

The night before? Well he had urgently needed you to pick out his outfit for his soiree, he was too coked out to pick apparently. And Gojo Satoru had so many three piece suits, ties and shoes, it was actually disgusting.

Nanami Kento walks up to you, overworked from his own boss in the building, a trait you two share as head assistants. He hands you a cup of coffee in a styrofoam cup, with your name written on it in sharpie, clearly from one of the coffee shops nearby. If you had time to have a fucking life you would have flirted with him, for sure. Maybe he would have, too?

Dirty blonde and handsome, his suit stretched across his muscles just so… and fuck if he didn’t look like he needed a damn vacation too.

“Long night?” Kento asked, grabbing you out of your thoughts, an amused and tired expression on his face. You sigh, nodding.

“Thank you for the coffee. I owe ya one.” You let the sweet liquid hit your lips, eyes peering to Gojo's office. There was some lady in there, pretty as fuck in some crazy attempt at business stripper, but he for some reason was scowling at you. What, you dared to sip coffee and not work for two minutes?

“Not at all. Happy birthday.” 

“Shit that’s today?” You teased, but you did know.

“We don’t really get birthdays.”

“Haha no we don’t. But thank you!”

“Of course. Take care of yourself okay? Gojo is… ugh.” Nanami looked disgusted as he shook his head, pushing up his fancy glasses. You couldn’t help but giggle at that as Nanami walked off.

Your phone rings, because of course Gojo can't just come to you, you must go to him. Your eyes roll.

“Yes, Sir?” You answer the phone, tapping your glittery manicured nails on your desk, the one treat you gave yourself.

“My office.” That silken command may have excited most women, shit, most human beings, but it was a source of annoyance for you.

“Coming.”

You sighed, hanging up the phone and sipping your coffee. The office coffee usually went cold daily with the amount of shit you had to do. You smooth down your dress, adjusting the buckle of your belt just a tad before walking towards the giant glass office.

Gojo’s office had floor to ceiling windows surrounding it that had a ridiculous view of the cityscape below. You all were on the top floor of Kamo Tower, after all. The air was filled with a faint scent, woodsy and fresh, a signature fragrance that lingered in the space, distinctive to Gojo.

As you enter, you see Gojo himself reclining casually in a lavish chair, his signature Gucci sunglasses on, covering those ridiculous blue eyes. Which you honestly appreciated because he made shit hard to focus, even after two years of working as his assistant.

“Sir?” You stand there cautiously, thinking of just putting in your notice then and fucking there, like that dream you had in your two hours of sleep.

“Status update on my meetings?”

“I sent you them all.” He smirked, arrogant. You grit your teeth. “You have two meetings today, Sir, one for the new hotel partnership, then you have a meeting with Mr. Suguru about your casino. And of course, you have your event tonight.”

“Speaking of that, I need you to come with me tonight for the charity ball.” You sigh, shutting the door behind you, resting your aching head against it.

“I asked for tonight off.” You murmur, and Gojo scoffs, grinning, damn fangs like some vampire glinting from the sun that beamed in. He stands, stretching his long elegant limbs, before he walks closer to you, making the scent of him waft through your senses.

“I'll pay you well. Plus you’ll be going as my date for the event, not going to make you actually work. You'll get to relax and shit. Drinks and food.”

“As your date?” You blink, pursing your lips.

“I know, it’s kinda a dream scenario.” He laughed at his own joke, a habit he certainly had.

“Since when does CEO Satoru need a date? Especially me . I can just arrange you a date like I always do.”

“It's a delicate partnership and I need someone who is smart. Not eye candy. I need you, law school girl. Plus you’re American, and a lot of the people there are too. So it’s a no brainer.” You sighed, the comment about eye candy biting.

Men hit on you pretty frequently, any time you weren’t working, which you could not say was very often. But of course Gojo banged models on the regular, and you had no time to look like a model, you barely had time to slap on some mascara and concealer every day to hide how tired you were.

“So you don't need anyone pretty… is what you're saying.”

He pauses then, frowning at you. “You're very pretty.” He'd never said that. He'd barely complimented your work. You catch your breath; looking up at him, curious how he had gotten just an inch away.

“‘Not eye candy.’”

“We'll no, you dress kinda boring… like business and shit. Not sexy at all. I mean I’ve never seen you not in a business dress unless it’s at night and I call you, then you wear pajama shorts and shit?”

You snort. ���I would dress up if I had a life. All I do is work.”

“Exactly, that’s what I mean by not ‘eye candy’. How you dress, not your looks. But I'll make sure your outfit looks killer, no need to thank me.” Gojo winks at you, lowering his shades, those insane cerulean eyes making you overheat against your will. Big and glittering with silver, the irises the prettiest blue that the earth could scarcely recreate. Eyes that made anyone do anything he wanted.

You were almost immune to that by now.

“It's my fucking birthday and you want me to do overtime?” You demand, and frowns with those full lips.

“Birthday?” Gojo looks confused, as if you should not have one of them, for it’s inconvenient.

“Yeah. Twenty-sixth.”

He evaluates you. “Why did I think you were like twenty two?”

“I’m not sure. If I was I wouldn’t even have my law degree yet, baby face maybe. But it’s my third birthday here, and you never give me the day off. I will absolutely not put in OT.”

“What, you have plans, hot shot?” Gojo chuckles, his tone mocking.

No. Sure don't. “Yep.” You lie. He knows.

“Cancel em.” He shakes a hand dismissively and you scowl.

“No.” You cross your arms under your breasts, and his gaze darts down for the briefest of moments.

“No?” No one turned Gojo down. No one ever told the gorgeous CEO no. His six foot four frame hunched as he placed an arm on one side of you, peering down, frown still on his handsome features. You bravely glare back up at him.

“No. Gojo, I'm really exhausted, and I just want to have fun and actually relax for my birthday.”

“Have fun with me. And make killer money. Win win.”

“That's work. Not fun.”

“Hmm.” He tilts your chin up with his long fingers, making you peer up at him, surprised at the contact. “I'll make it fun. Promise. Then I'll give you the day off tomorrow. Deal?”

“I could find you a smart American girl? Eye candy too.”

“You're my best, though, I need you.”

Bastard.

“Ugh. Fine.”

He grins, and you catch a breath as he backs away. “Good. I'll have the outfit brought to your apartment later? I’m assuming you don’t have anything fancy enough for this one.”

“Probably not. Fine. Need my size?”

His eyes are drinking you in as he smirks. “You think I haven’t gathered your size by now?” Your cheeks overheat. Though you’re used to him, at the end of the day you still had a damn vagina, and it reacted to him. He chuckled deeply, turning away and waving a hand. “You're dismissed.”

Just like that, your birthday night was just work. Work for Gojo.

***

“Can’t wait to put in my two weeks ugh.” You grumble to yourself as you finish up your makeup, for once having fun with it. If you had to work your birthday you would absolutely look gorgeous for it. Lashes, winged liner, red lips.

The dress he had ordered laid in a satin box on your white day bed. You sigh, opening it finally, and you blink rapidly as you look at the gown encased in baby blue and white tissue paper, the colors of Gojo himself. You gently pulled out the gown and most of your irritation died off.

Black and decked with sequins, it glittered in the light, it was a velvety fabric, as soft as a caress. As you slid it on it glided over your curves, accentuating the nip at your waist, the arch of your hips. The neckline plunged ridiculously low, revealing a generous amount of cleavage that you typically kept under wraps at work. You wonder how Gojo knew you had just so much up top…

Pervert is what he was.

Pervert with killer taste.

The dress had a slit that went dangerously up one of your well toned thighs, exposing nearly all of one leg, while the rest of the dress hit the floor. It was if he truly knew every measurement you had, for the dress could not have hit any better. Those damn analyzing eyes of his…

You spun to look at the back of the dress, which dipped daringly as well, exposing an expanse of skin, from shoulder blades down to the dimples on your lower back. You rummage through your little cherry wood jewelry box, eyeing to see what would work with the dress. Luckily, everything went well with black, so you snatched up a pretty silver cross necklace and earrings.

A text pops up, and you read it.

Dick Boss: Waiting out front in the car.

You: Just a few.

You slip on your shoes and spritz some body spray on, your favorite from Victoria’s Secret you save for special things, then slide on a pair of black heeled boots, contemplating putting on underwear. Did it matter what kind? It wasn’t like you’d had any dick since like college at this point. And you definitely weren’t fucking Gojo, since neither of you were interested.

You because you saw the girls he fucked. Him because… you weren’t ‘arm candy’. Or a dumb ass bimbo. Sometimes you wished you were, since they seemed sweet and happy in life, while you drowned.

Dick Boss: I’m waiting…”

Fucking Gojo. Ugh. You decide to slide on some lacy boy shorts, just in case that slit did go too high you’d have some coverage. Peeking one last time at the mirror, you had to admit you looked beautiful. You text Gojo.

You: Coming now.

You locked up and headed down the stairs of the apartment building, and there was Kiyotaka, Gojo’s driver, opening the door of the black limo for you. Kiyotaka, who somehow was your age now. That boggled your mind more than Nanami. Gojo wore people out, very clearly, but even you had it easier than Kiyotaka.

“My lady.” He said sweetly, and you smiled at him, sliding in, and there Gojo was across from you, long arms spread across the backs of the seat, his head rested back so that his throat was exposed. His head snapped down, and he looked right at you, no sunglasses, only those eyes. His lips parted, and you tensed, prepared for some lewd comment or rude one.

He blinked those white spiky lashes, arms sliding down as Kiyotaka shut the door, gaze taking you in ever so slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. You felt yourself holding your breath as it lazily traveled down and back up your body, clutching your little black evening bag tightly.

“You look…” He trailed off, shaking his head a bit.

“Thank you for the dress.” You cut him off. He exhaled, nodding.

“Of course. Consider it my birthday gift. You look… really fucking hot.”

You giggled at that. Not beautiful or breathtaking. But you’d take it. “Thank you, the dress is so beautiful.”

“Your body is that banging and you hide it like that?” He was somehow right next to you now, and you shiver a bit at the nearness. “I should reprimand you.”

You roll your eyes. “I can’t dress like this at work.”

“You sure the fuck can. I’m the boss, I say so.” His fingertips trailed down your shoulder, and it sent tingles through your body. Why was he so close? “I’m buying you a new wardrobe.”

“The fuck you are. I like to be professional, unlike you.” You smack his hand off errantly, and your bare shoulder grew cold without the touch.

“You do really look good.” You took in his outfit, a black tux, which fit his slim muscles perfectly. It was some shit Bruce Wayne would wear. Maybe Gojo was some super hero or villain. It would fit.

“You do too. You always do.”

“I know.” He winked at you, leaning forward to snatch up champagne and pop it, pouring you both glasses. You took one, letting the bubbles tickle your nose, taking a sip of the sweet drink, moaning softly and shutting your eyes.

“Delicious.” You lick your lower lip and find him a breath away. You don’t move, but you’re frozen, confused as he looks at you like he never has. “Satoru?”

“Are you really thinking of quitting?” He asked softly. You have never seen Gojo like this.

“How did you know?”

“I know everything, baby girl.” He gently runs his long fingers through your hair, a rare frown on his lips.

“Baby girl? The fuck, Satoru. Yes I was thinking of it, an seducing me is not going to change my mind. Is that the point of this?” You demand, irritated, and against your better judgement, fucking horny. His eyes study your own seriously.

“If that was my intention, you’d damn sure know.” Each word was bit out, distinctive, and his hand tightened in your hair, far too strong, yanking your head back. You scowl up at him, your hands clenched into fists.

“Oh, would I?” You challenged him, notching your chin up a bit. He laughed but it was without humor.

“How many women have you heard me fuck in my office? How many have you had to send home? You think I don’t know how to fuck the shit out of you if I wanted to. You wouldn’t even be able to walk.”

Gojo’s whisper was against your lips, and you could taste whiskey on his breath, mixed with his mints he constantly sucked on. He wasn’t touching you, but he was so close you could feel him…

“I won’t fuck you though, so what’s the point of even joking about it. You don’t want me anyway. Not your type.” He snorted, and one of his big hands came to your waist, touching the bare skin of your back and wreaking havoc on every sense you’ve ever had.

“You know my type?” You nod. His thumb brushed under your breast, an action that made the peaks of your breasts tighten, aching against the sequined gown. Damn if his gaze didn’t drop down. You cursed yourself. “The women who entertain me aren’t necessarily my type.”

“Hmm.” It grew difficult to focus. You sip your champagne, leaning back a bit, but Gojo’s grip stays. “It doesn’t matter. You’re talking out of your ass. Too much cocaine tonight?”

His grip tightened, and it made you gasp, looking up at his darkened eyes in the dim light of the limo. “I haven’t had any. I’m just pretty fucking irritated my best assistant wants to leave. You’re ungrateful.”

“Ungrateful!” You snort at that, tossing back the champagne and grabbing at his hand, his wrist, trying to get him off of you. “How the fuck, Satoru? I literally do everything for you!”

“And I pay you damn good!”

“I know. I’d rather be broke somewhere than do sixteen hour days. It’s my damn birthday and here I am!”

“As if you really had plans. You have no friends and no life.”

“Bullshit.” You grit your teeth, shoving at his hard chest. “That’s because I have no damn time! You think I wouldn’t have a boyfriend or something by now?”

“Maybe that’s your problem, why you’re so bitchy and stuck up all the damn time. You need to get fucked good.”

You slapped him then. Slapped your Boss. Slapped Satoru Gojo.

His hand caught your wrist, brutally squeezing, pale cheek just hinted with pink from your mark.

“Ring a little true?”

“I can get fucked if I want.” You yank your hand back.

“I didn’t say that. Clearly you can get fucked. It’s just you don’t even want to and you blame it on my hours, as if you were the type.”

“I’d fuck Nanami Kento if I had any damn time.” Gojo’s eyes widened at that, and his grip on your waist became brutal. “Yep. Sure would. He’s built as fuck, oh and he remembered my birthday. If either of us had time I sure would. So does that answer it for you?”

Gojo bared his teeth at her, a little blue vein in his temple popping out. Your heart beats in your chest, brutally, the thudding loud in your ears. “You… would fuck… Nanami… Kento?”

Each of his words were forced through his teeth.

Ah, you made him mad.

Good.

“Who wouldn’t? He’s hot.” You try to shrug casually.

“Out of anyone in the office?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Including me.”

You open your mouth to say yes, but you know it’s not fucking true. Of course you’d have fucked Gojo, if he wasn’t a dick boss, if he was just a dude…

Look at him.

“Cat got your tongue?” His free hand caught your chin, forcing your gaze to his piercing one. You gulp, licking your lips.

“No.”

“No, what?” His voice was a wicked caress.

“No… not including you. Goddammit. Is that what you want to hear? That I’m not blind? Of course you’re attractive, and you know it, stupid!”

He scoffed. “You’re childish.”

“You!” You shoved at him again, and he let you go, grabbing your glass and refilling it, watching you like a hawk. “It changes nothing. I am planning to leave. I will find a replacement, someone even better than me.”

“There is no one better.” He sounded sincere, a rare thing for Gojo, emotion cracking in his voice as he downed his own glass.

“You think fucking me will keep me as your damn assistant?”

“It’s worth a shot. I’m the best fuck there is.” He shrugged, some of that casual demeanor coming back, and you wanted to yell at your body for its reaction.

“It won’t happen.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“You’re my boss!”

“But you’re leaving.”

“I…”

“Hmm? You seem at a loss for words.” You scowl, looking out the window as the lights flickered by.

“Are we there yet?”

“Childish.”

“Says you!”

“You need a good orgasm. Or ten. Get you to be less of a stuck up nag.”

“I do not! And I am not!”

“You do, and you are.”

“I orgasm plenty, thanks!” You felt your body on fire at that, and Gojo couldn’t look more satisfied, like the Cheshire fucking cat, the grin as wide as it could go, running his hand through his silken white locks.

“Oh, do tell.” He practically purred.

“Cut the shit, Satoru. You’ve never talked like this in the years I’ve worked with you, where the fuck do you get off?”

“I get off in women. Or on them.” He shrugged, enjoying your open mouth, once again lost for words.

“You know I did not mean that!”

“Where do you get off? On a dildo maybe.” You blinked, eyebrows low in a scowl, wanting to hit him again. “No, don’t look the type. Maybe a rose toy. Hmm… or just these little things.” Gojo lifted your hand, already small but ridiculously small in his own, swallowed by him. “They don’t hit deep enough, do they?” His whisper shook you to your core.

You burned, breathless, as he held out his own hand to yours, fingers so fucking long they rivaled the length of a dude’s dick. Likely larger than the couple of dude’s in college, which was about all of your experience. He grinned as you stared on, palm hot and hard against your own.

“I… you…” You wanted to cuss him out. Quit right then.

You also wanted his fingers in you.

“I could get you off, put you in a good mood. We don’t have to have sex for that.” His hand took your own, putting your hand by your heat, between your thighs.

“Why… are you…act- acting like this?” You managed to breathe out, but you had no energy to move away from him, or shove his hand off. Because if you were being honest with yourself, you’d love to ride your frustration out on him.

“Maybe I realize how much I need you to stay as my assistant.” Gojo’s supple lips kiss down your jaw, firm but delicate, as his hand brutally grabs yours and shoves it against yourself, moaning in your ear. “Is my assistant already hot for me? Are you that easy to get wet?”

“Fuck off.”

It’s a whisper. You want it. And you hate him. You hate that your pussy is pulsing against your joined fingers through the barrier of your panties, that the moan in your ear made you wonder what he sounded like when he came. Gojo slid his own finger against your panties, pausing, moaning again, pulling back to look at you.

He was gorgeous.

Your chest rose and fell with your breath.

“Fuck.” He whispered, and something was just different. You saw Gojo with women, always so self assured. But something seemed surprised, vulnerable, when his long finger pressed against the damp sticky fabric, just grazing your clit. You arched your hips up, and his fingertip ran up slightly, pressing more, and Gojo’s lips were just a breath away…

“We’re here, Sir, my Lady.”

Fuck.

You two shot apart, and you struggled to catch your breath, adjusting your dress, gulping down one more glass for good measure. Gojo adjusted his pants, not even looking at you, clearing his throat. You cursed as you saw his tie.

“You can’t tie a tie for shit, Satoru.” You leaned over to him, pulling it apart gently and re-tying it. You noticed his Adam's apple bob up and down. He was quiet. Satoru Gojo, quiet. “There.”

“Thanks.” He said gruffly, and your eyes met.

What the fuck just happened?

Kiyotaka opened the door, exposing them to some cool night air, and you got out, curious just how the fuck this birthday night was going to go.

Chapter 2

Completed fic on ao3, will post chaps on here as well

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55424137/chapters/140629990

[fan-goddess]

‘His ceremonies laid by, in his nakedness he appears but a man’

A/N: Surprise! I'm making this a strange sort of drabble like series with Aemond and dragonseed! This title is long af but the quote so fits I love/hate it! It ain’t entirely fully proofread so errors may pop up I may correct later fyi

Warnings: Smut, dragonseed is back and unnamed as ever, brothel working, sex working, not dark!Aemond but clingy at nonetheless! (If I miss any let me know!)

Taglist: @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @omgbrcat @blue-serendipity @arcielee

Series Thing Masterlist

The men you were hired to please in the nicest of terms were always much older and sweaty than you, as if they had competed in two tourniments before arriving. Though the likelihood that they had even competed in one throughout their lifetimes was slimmer than they had even been.

The young men were always given to the more older, experienced ladies for their teachings, or so the brothel madam would sometimes laugh as the young lads were dragged by their hands to a room beyond the main hall. It was a rare time whenever a younger looking man would specifically request a more younger lady, as the older the men were the younger the ladies sent to their assigned room became.

That day, you had already been paid for by three men whose skin dripped in exhausted sweat and stained the covers of the bed with a mixture of their bodily fluids. By the time night came around though, the brothel bellow became heaving with men of all ages, a familiar head of short silver locks came bounding through them with a practised ease.

His voice rang through the crowd staring at the breasts of the ladies he was offered by the Madame. Yet when he looked up to the balcony ledge where you were perched watching the sights bellow, he stopped where he had stood, and pointed with a fierce look in his eye that you knew all too well in a man.

The look of a predator who has caught sight of fresh game, and is ready to begin the hunt of the night.

The eldest son of the king, the boy whispered by all to become the future king of the seven kingdoms of course choosing to ignore with hated stares his elder sister, points a finger to you and by the way his lips move you know he has demanded a reduced price.

He may have more money than all the men in the room combined but even he knows like any poor man how to strike the right sort of bargain for a better price.

That night, you were bought and fucked by a Targaryen for the first time in your life. A service that used to be an honour to the highest of all for whores, or at least it was before the Targaryen men became too indifferent to their flesh of the night.

It appeared the once well known hunger of purpled eyed silver haired flesh has trickled down to its last generation, as the man who’d left his spent to trickle down your thighs gave no indication that he desired you particularly for your hair or for your eyes.

He barely even looked at you as he forcibly took you from behind and pushed your face into the thin sheets that had yellowed in age.

He even left as soon as he came, quite literally, as by the time you looked around the door was swung open and the overwhelming stench of alcohol remained pungent. It appeared this young Prince had a thin layer of wine on his skin instead of the usual stench of overwhelming sweat.

You did not see the recognisable sight of silver locks for quite some time after that. Many a nights were you forced to look away to the window as men of all hair but silver took you on the bed you fucked to keep. Yet they were no different from the eldest prince at all. They all had only the idea of completion in mind.

Which you suppose was why it was so shocking when the infamous one-eyed Prince came to the brothel in search of a women to warm his cock, and laid a single eye on you as you stood oblivious on the same balcony you had stood on when you were chosen by his brother.

It was like a strange sick dream when you saw the younger Prince refuse to take his eye off you as he bargained a price with the Madame. Again, he too knew how to strike a deal similarly to his eldest acknowledged sibling.

When the Prince finally entered your chambers and met eyes with your naked form sitting on the bed awaiting to be told the orders, it was made quite quickly to you that the One-Eyed Prince was not like a regular laying customer.

Yet he still had his regular moments it seems, as while he managed to humanise your body, he still found a way to objectify your soul.

The Prince uses you like any other man would, and yet he still somehow manages to find a way to make you feel mortal.

While he takes you, he has you on your back and his eye looking deeply into your own. A single hand of his stroking the left side of your face while a thumb catches on the edge of your lips.

Even after spilling his spent of the skin of your stomach, he explains he cannot dare father a bastard and bring the shame to his already soiled family legacy. Going as far as to grab a lone stained cloth from somewhere in the room to mop up his cooled down spent away and throws someplace random.

The one-eyed Prince stays with you the whole of that night and morning, something you could easily say was a first in your working career.

His head lays on your overworked thighs that twitch randomly in patterns even he with his highly educated mind cannot comprehend. But he does not complain at all, instead only burrowing further into your overwhelming warmth you subconsciously provide him with.

You dare not to say anything as you place a hand on his head and thread your fingers through his hair, waiting with baited breath as his lets out a tired sigh and wraps his arms around your body tighter.

When your fingertips catch on the rough leather of his patch you do not dare take it off in fear of being caught in the familiar feeling of a dragons rage. So you merely ghost your hand over it and he does not make a disapproving sound.

He reminds you heavily of a child craving a mother’s affection, even though you know he has one waiting no doubt anxiously for him in his own chambers back up at the castle. Yet it appears the prince lives in a strange limbo of ignorant bliss, as you can feel his eyelashes brush lightly against the skin of your thigh as he closes his eye, and not a minute later you can feel his bodies breath even out as he begins drifting away.

The One-Eyed Prince falls asleep against your naked spent body, and you can only force your body to relax as your eyes shut tightly and sleep to not come at an easy price. For that night as the Prince rests by the base of your stomach, dreams fill your head of overwhelming fire and blood comes storming down around you.

At the end of your dream mere seconds before you are awoken by the grumbling child, a two eyed man with features mimicking yours holds a sword angled to the base of your throat and sneers at you, before allowing the blade to swing you with heavy cost.

[mandaplease10]

A Polin Take Nobody Asked For #5

*Penelope & Colin Aren't Friends*

Once again, there are complaints about how Pen & Colin were never actually friends because we never see them be friends. We're simply only told they are friends and now we're supposed to believe Colin loves her after saying he would never court.

Well, I am here to tell you why that is wrong. Oh and someone on twitter claimed this season has no narrative... like are we watching the same show??

FYI this is a long post!

Season 1:

Colin dances with Penelope after Cressida spills a drink on her. Even before this, he sought her out to have a conversation with her.

There are several times we see Colin and Penelope speaking at balls or gatherings.

Penelope tries to tell him about Marina and he is grateful for her friendship and care, but he doesn't listen to her because he thinks he knows Marina. Yet, he still took the time to hear her out for the most part.

Once Marina's secret is revealed, Colin apologizes to Pen and recognizes she was just trying to look out for him.

Colin goes traveling the first time because of Pen inspiring him to do so.

Colin singing in the drawing room and lowers his voice/stars at Pen when she walks in.

Season 2:

Their letters - This is a huge element to their friendship and their storyline. Honestly, I would love to have seen what their letters entailed over the years. Maybe one day we'll have a scene of them going through their old letters or something.

Colin's arrival - hello! That look he gives her when he sees her there in the drawing room after greeting his family. I believe had Hyacinth and Gregory not rushed him and Anthony didn't walk in to go to the races, he would have walked over and said something to her.

At the races- he sees Pen and walks over to her. He initiates the conversation and talks about their letters until Eloise ruins the moment.

Another moment he initiates a conversation is when Pen assumes he met someone on his travels and he talks about how he 'found himself' thanks to her letters.

Lady Crane was right about you - He knows that Pen cares for him and is special in his life and the fact that someone else saw that made him open his eyes a little more.

Defending the Featheringtons - Colin stood up to his friend Will when he said something negative about Pen's family and then again when he realized Jack was scheming around.

You are special to me. I will always look out for you - HELLO! Yes, Colin has a hero complex, but he doesn't do this for everyone! He doesn't seek out to help Cressida or other women of TON, but he risked standing up to a "Lord" to save Pen's family from ruin.

You are Pen. You are my friend - Colin literally calls her his friend and holds her above just another woman. Yes, in this moment she was sort of friend zoned, but the fact he still wanted her in his life, means something.

"I would never court Penelope Featherington" - Yes, this was not a good look, but this was also Colin trying to put on a facade in front of the gentleman. Plus, I also believe that in his state of mind, what he was doing and how he is around Pen, is just how they are together, yet in other's eyes, it was very much courting action.

Season 3:

His arrival - Immediately looks for Pen and when he doesn't see her, looks towards her house confused as to why she isn't present.

The Gardens - Smiles when he sees her and is eager to talk to her, upset when she cuts their conversation short.

The ball - Stares at her and watches her from afar and rushes after her when he sees her in distress.

Goodnight Mr. Bridgerton - Tries to joke around with her and have a friendly conversation, but realizes something is wrong. Feels horrid when he realizes why she is upset with him and wants to talk it out, gets upset when she leaves.

The Featherington Garden - Again, he seeks her out because he wants to make things right with her. THIS ENTIRE SCENE IS PRACTICALLY A WHY YOU ARE SPECIAL AND MORE THAN A FRIEND TO ME DECLARATION. If you actually watch this entire scene, you will see that there is genuine friendship and love there.

The Meet Cute - Seriously, the fact that HE remembers how they met AND he was the one who brought it up, says A LOT.

The Drawing Room - He listened to her and brought her to a place that makes her comfortable. He even made sure it was during a time when they would be alone. Also, it is obvious he feels something during the touch of hands and her attempt at flirting with him.

The Ball - They have yet another conversation amongst the two of them and he encourages her to talk to someone. Then they have a laugh. A genuine laugh, one that she never really had with Debling later on... Then we have the little bouts of jealous Colin when she's speaking to Lord Remington. Then how angry he gets when the word gets out about him and Pen and how he rushes after her in worry.

The First Kiss - Once again, Colin is seeking her out... in the middle of the night... bribing her maid for alone time. Like... not just anyone does that. Colin only had to do the one kiss. The one peck because that was all Pen asked for, but guess what? He went in for another one and would have kissed her again if she didn't leave. We can tell on his face, that he felt something he never felt before.

The Dream - Most people don't have romantic dreams about their friends unless there are feelings there.

The Willow Tree - The awkwardness is everything and pure friends to lovers.

I could continue the rest of their moments, but I'm not going to because so many of the same people keep saying the only reason Colin wanted Pen is because of Debling, well guess what everything that I listed above is PRE DEBLING. Yes, there is that moment in episode 1, but it isn't until episode 3 when Debling actively tries to pursue Pen and vice versa.

So, yeah, Polin haters can keep complaining and trying to make excuses as to why they dislike the season, but the receipts are the there to debunk those claims.

[bonezone44]

'Doesn't Nothing Ever Last Forever?' (18+)

Raider!Joel x afab!Reader

Word Count: 5,4k

(FYI: woman in moodboard is a side character.)

Summary: You worked in a brothel outside of a quarantine zone. Every once in a while, you got a visit from Joel and his men. This was your first time being around for one of those visits. (Reader is severely depressed and bisexual [relatable, amiright?]. Reader is not popular at the brothel.)

tags: DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT (tagging this to be safe!) Kidnapping, sexual slavery, group sex, overstimulation, rough oral (m). POV switching, canon-typical violence. -- Sex between Reader and Joel is non-con. Reader enjoys it, but the larger context doesn't allow for consent. Fingering, unprotected p-in-v. Degradation. Finger-sucking. Spanking. Orgasm control/denial. Joel is turned on by Reader's history w/ women. Reader is called slut, good girl, bad girl. Reader calls Joel "sir."

A/N: Written for @iamasaddie's writing challenge. ✏ I was so excited by their moodboards, I had to participate. Also, read @toxicanonymity for the original Raider!Joel which heavily inspired this one. 🙏 And special thanks to @milla-frenchy for helping me choose a story line. 😘

story masterlist - main masterlist

+++++

The days bled together, one right after the other. No matter how clear the skies were, a permanent fog had taken over your mind. 

The only reason you woke up that evening was all the commotion. You heard the roar of diesel engines and loud men laughing and yelling. The slamming of car doors. Then those voices got louder and closer. Obviously, they had made their way inside your building. You knew you should rise and shine. Get to work. But you stayed curled up on your bed cushion in the shared room as long as possible. Even after your boss had been calling for you.

It wasn’t the kind of job you punched in and out of. You lived in a brothel. You were paid by the client–and even then sometimes all you got was a spare coin or two. A ration slip, if you were really lucky. But those could only be spent at the nearby Quarantine Zone. And the four hour trek there and back was hell on your feet and knees.

Your boss, Larry, finally opened the door to your room, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he allowed the noise and chaos to do the job of waking you up.

You unfurled from the floor and wandered to the bathrooms, bare fit sticking to the tile floors. You had hoped no one would catch you and make you work. You hadn’t had it in you to do anything that day. What you really wanted to do was float away, fly with the clouds on the wind to somewhere far, far over the rainbow.

You found Trisha at the sinks, under the sickly green lights, already washing cum from her hands. 

“Joel and his crew are here again,” she mumbled. There was a tremor in her voice.

You nodded blankly. Tired.

She turned around and stared at you with wide eyes. “Joel,” she emphasized.

“Okay?” You shrugged. Your eyes bored into a growing mold stain in the corner.  

She scoffed. “Joel is the guy who bought Carrie.”

“What?” … ‘Bought Carrie?’ That didn’t sound right to you. “I just thought… she left.”

Trisha stared at you, aghast. The room was cold, but steam began to fog the mirror. “Are you fucking kidding me? You were there!” She shouted. “You were there when Larry told us he sold her for the fucking water heater!” She pointed at the filling sink.

You blinked. “...Oh.” You wiped your eyes with your hands. “I don’t… really remember.” Her words didn’t quite click it into place for you, but a dull memory played in the back of your mind. You remembered a ‘house meeting’ and hearing Carrie’s name a lot. You remembered getting the water heater. You remembered everyone being upset and yelling at Larry. You remembered curling in the corner, your brain checking out and wandering through the static of your own mind rather than feeling something–anything–in your own body.

That explained all the weird looks you had gotten later when you expressed excitement over the hot water. You had been happy about something for once and everyone responded by staring at you like you were a freak. 

But everyone you had ever met always felt so far away. Like you were so deep in the depths of your own mind that the world around you was a movie you were watching. All the people in your life were characters playing out their roles. So you did, too. You went through the daily motions, following some imaginary script in your mind. Playing a part. Doing whatever you thought you were supposed to.

Trisha started telling you more stories about Joel and his crew. About their violence. But none of it sounded real. It sounded like another movie to you. You stood, unmoving, wishing you had some bleach to clean the mold in the corner. You wanted to scrub the grout until it was pure again. Wipe away the layer of filmy mildew from the ceramic tiles. Disinfect every inch of porcelain in this piece of shit building. 

Another woman entered the bathroom, fully nude. “Well, look who decided to show up!” she spat at you. “Go out there and do your job. I need a fucking break.”

You sighed and resigned yourself to your fate. “Okay,” you muttered without meeting her eyes. You didn’t bother looking in the mirror or worrying about your clothes. You knew that in your line of work, they didn’t make a difference either way.

-

You walked out to the main room and saw about a dozen men scattered around the couches, women in their laps or on their knees. 

One woman was sitting naked in a guy’s lap while another guy roughly rubbed and slapped her clit. His laughter grossed you out. The woman was crying.  

Another woman was getting facefucked and choking. She pulled back to cough and breathe. The man she was sucking on held himself in a tight grip. He pushed the hair from her face and whispered softly to her, wiping away her tears, before shoving his cock right back in.

You nodded at the scene unaffected… well, mostly unaffected. You stared into the middle distance and focused on no one person in particular. The women’s moans were mostly performative–it was obvious. But the men didn’t seem to mind. Their moans were hungry and horny, enjoying whatever stimulation they seemed to be receiving. So that was what you focused on. Their blatant sexual desire. It fueled your own heat. A fire expanding in your chest and between your legs. Your mouth began to water. You sucked in your bottom lip, eager to feel flesh inside you. 

You weren’t sure how long you were standing there, watching. It merely occurred to you at some point that one of the men was walking up to you, blocking your view of the scene. He wore a dark brown leather jacket over a v-neck shirt.  A small, shiny gold cross hung around his neck and against his sunburned skin. He wore blue jeans and work boots.

Your boss, Larry, yammered in one of your ears at him.

“Joel,” he pleaded with clasped hands. “I’m sure you’d prefer someone like Trisha or-or-or Cameron. I’m sure, she’ll be right back out any minute!”

“No,” Joel says gruffly. “Her,” he pointed to you with his chin. 

“I’m sure. I’m sure.” Your boss chuckled uncomfortably and surrendered with empty palms. “Of course!” He grabbed you by the arm and tugged you toward the back of the building. He snarled in your ear. “Don’t fuck this up for me.” 

You wanted to shrug him off, but his grip was bruising. What could you ‘fuck up’ exactly? You had been working there for over a year. You weren’t popular, but you got the job done. You didn’t get along with any of the other women there, but what did that have to do with this guy, Joel?

Larry took you and Joel to one of the farthest rooms. It was the nice one with a real bed instead of a mattress or cushion on the floor. You had never been in it before. Not even to clean it. You looked around appraising the paint on the walls. There was a window, but it was dark out. The noise from the main room was barely audible. You liked being somewhere quiet again. 

#######

Joel and his crew pulled up around dinnertime in two pick-up trucks. The sun had set and the truck’s headlights bathed the front of the old office building in a warm, dull yellow.

The crickets were louder than hell that night. Joel remembered that much.

Not five seconds after his boys hopped out the trucks did the brothel owner come skittering out the front door with a nervous grin on his face.

Joel liked that. Piece o’ shit like that should be nervous. 

Joel hated Larry. The man was fucking pathetic. Weasel-y. So needy and desperate to please. Joel hated that Larry sold him a woman for a water heater. What kinda man would do something like that? This was supposed to be a brothel. The women were supposed to be his employees. He didn’t have the right to sell anybody.

But Joel had wanted her. And taking her outright would have caused more problems than it would have solved. So he figured a water heater would help keep things peaceful between them. Because his boys liked the brothel. Each little trip helped ease their minds. Gave them something to talk about and look forward to–something other than survival.

Joel’s needs were more permanent. He needed something more full-time rather than once every few months.

His boys started hooting and hollering as soon as the payment of supplies were unloaded and they got to hang out inside. The women weren’t even around yet, but they were more than ready for some physical entertainment. Joel remained standing while the rest of them spread out along the decaying leather couches lining the walls. A shitty little cd player sat in the corner playing old R&B music. He heard his brother, Tommy, singing along to it. 

Joel sighed and wiped his face with his hands.

Once Larry brought out a few women, the men started roaring. They were shouting and cheering, pulling their cocks out in excitement. Joel groaned. These boys didn’t know a goddamn thing about seducing a woman and their sad little dicks weren’t gonna get them anywhere neither.

Two of the guys grabbed one of the women, causing her to shout, but Joel was on them not a second later. He gripped their skulls, one in each of his giant hands, and knocked them together like coconut shells. 

“Ouch! What the hell, man?” asked one of them, rubbing the sore spot on his head. 

Joel shook his head with his eyes wide, boring into the depths of their souls. “Not until I say,” he spat.

They both tucked their heads under, murmuring. “Yes, Joel.” “Whatever you say, Joel.”

The woman got back in line while the boys sat down on the couch.

“I’m sure I’ve got a couple more on the way,” said Larry with a forced smile. “They’re just getting themselves cleaned up, I’m sure, after uh…  after finishing dinner.”

Joel grunted. He knew what he wanted–knew what kind of woman he was looking for. And he was quick to realize that none of the women in the room were it. So he waved his hand and his men let loose.

Joel stood with his arms crossed and his back against the front door. He kept his eye on the two troublemakers. Kept his ear on Tommy. Tommy was a talker. He loved to chat up the working women as if he was in a bar back home in Texas and looking to find himself a girlfriend. Joel thought Tommy was being ridiculous—acting like the women could say ‘no’ and walk away. Like he had to put real effort in. It annoyed the hell out of Joel. He wanted his crew to have their fun and be done with it. Why did Tommy have to make it so complicated?

Joel was getting bored and antsy the longer he waited. He was feeling needy, too, with the rough sounds of sex filling the air around him. But he was hopeful, preferring to be patient. And if, in the end, there was no woman he wanted, he would pick one at random and blow off some steam. He would find a replacement some other time or start looking around at the nearest Quarantine Zone.

  Then you walked in. 

And at first, Joel was ready to shrug you off, too. Sure, you were attractive. But looks weren't everything. That's what got him in trouble with the last woman. 

But something in your eyes changed as you scanned the room, taking in the sexual depravity. You didn't shrink in and shut down. You were turned on. He saw the way your chest rose and fell as your breaths shallowed and shortened. The way you chewed your bottom lip. The way you squirmed. That's what Joel needed. Someone as needy as him. 

The brothel owner tried to dissuade him. Huh, Joel wanted to laugh. As if that asshole knew a goddamn thing about what Joel wanted–about what Joel needed.

-

“Take your clothes off ‘n get on the bed,” he ordered after slamming the door shut behind him. He liked how quickly you complied. He didn’t understand why you were so calm, though. He unbuckled his belt, releasing the pressure from his stomach and allowing himself some room to breathe. He let the buckle hang and it jingled as he stepped closer to the bed. 

“All fours.”

Again, you complied swiftly and smoothly, facing the back wall.

He eyed you for any sores. Then he slipped his bare hand around the smooth curve of your ass and his fingertips prodded around your lips and entrance. You were already wet, he realized.  He slid the edge of his fingers forward against your clit. 

You moaned. Something fake and bland. 

He pulled his hand away and slapped you on the ass. “Hey.”  He grabbed you by the cheeks when you didn't immediately face him. Your eyes never met his. “Don't fuckin showboat me,” he warned. 

“Okay,” you said flatly. 

He didn’t like how detached you were. How unafraid. But he willed himself to be patient–the amount of wetness coating his fingers eased his anxiety. He continued to play with your folds as he asked questions.

He cleared his throat. “You like workin here?”

You shrugged. “It’s a job.”

“How long you been here?”

“About a year.”

Joel hummed. “I don’t remember you from last time.”

“Probably had the flu.” 

“You got over it okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” you nodded, closing your eyes. You seemed to like it when he moved his thick fingers around you real slow. He liked that.

“You got anything else? Any diseases?”

You shook your head. “I don’t get a lot of men.”

Joel paused. “Why not?”

You shrugged. “I dunno. They like the other girls better.”

“Why’s that?”

You shrugged again. “They’re better at fakin it.”

Joel didn’t know how to feel about that answer. He continued to rub your clit, feeling you get slicker. “So what? You do handjobs, blowjobs?”

“Mostly.”

He noticed an uptick in the tone of your voice. “You like doin those?”

“If the guy is cute.”

He slid his fingers from your clit to your entrance to your other hole. He didn’t push in, only pressed against it, and you sighed. “What about this?” he asked, biting his lip. “You like gettin your ass played with?”

You hung your head and nodded. “If they do it right,” you said with another uptick in your tone. 

Joel liked that. “Ever have a train run on ya?” He slid his fingers back to your clit.

“Yeah,” you answered with a whimper. 

“You like it?”

Your breath hitched as Joel’s fingers sped up. “Been through worse.”

“Worse? Here?” Joel asked, wondering what could happen at a brothel that was worse than a gang-bang.

“No just… you know…” you sighed with pleasure. “--in general.” 

Joel furrowed his brows. You were being honest with him. Too honest, in his opinion. But you were rolling your hips into his hand. And he didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.

He shoved two fingers inside of you without warning. Your body twitched and you moaned–and it was different this time. Quieter. Realer. Joel liked that. He didn’t mind taking his time to get you ready if he knew you would enjoy it. 

“You like fuckin, huh?”

“Who doesn’t?” You snickered, pushing back into his thrusting hand.

Joel took a deep breath, maintaining his composure. But he knew then that he wanted you. That you were just what he needed and more.

#######

You liked this Joel guy. He took his time. He was asking you questions, trying to get to know you. You don’t remember the last time anyone had done that. …Well, maybe when you first started working there. Trisha and Carrie and a couple of the other women tried, but this felt different for some reason. Like it was leading somewhere. Like there was a promise at the end of it. Like maybe he really wanted to make you come and he wasn’t just there for himself. 

And you liked his voice. It was smoky and deep. He had an accent like a cowboy. It was comforting, in a way.

And his fingers felt nice. He knew what he was doing. You couldn't remember the last time a guy got you that wet with just his hand.

Part of you felt a little hopeful. You thought you might finally get to have some fun like the other girls did. Most of the guys you got were ugly or just plain ol’ depressing. Another part of you couldn’t stop thinking about Carrie for some reason. You’re not sure why she kept coming up in your mind. You two never worked together. You barely knew her at all.

-

“You ever fuck the other women here?” Joel asked. 

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed in proud affirmation. It even pulled a smile from you. 

“What's that mean?”

You weren’t sure how you expected him to react. You weren’t sure why you answered that way. “It means… yeah,” you replied while embarrassment burned your cheeks. You had barely looked at him before, but now you really didn’t want to see his face.

“Yeah, you like fuckin women?” His voice turned breathy. You heard his buckle jingle and the slide of the zipper of his jeans. 

 It turned you on to know that he liked that. Some men hated it. Made you feel like shit for it. But man, this Joel guy was something else. It made you want more of him. More of his fingers. His voice. His skin. “Yeah,” you moaned and shoved yourself harder into his hands, thrusting his fingers deeper.

“So what? You lick their pussies? Rub your little cunts together?”

Your mouth hung open from his words. “yeah,” you said with a hot breath. He pulled his fingers from inside of you and drew circles on your clit. You started whimpering. You nodded your head as fire burned in your core and across your skin. 

“That’s why you work here, huh? You got a needy little cunt?”

His fingers were moving so fast, the muscles in your legs were jumping and your toes were curling. “Uh-huh,” you moaned loud enough for your voice to echo around the bare room.

“That why you left the Q-Z? This slutty hole wasn’t get fucked enough?” His fingers slid back inside your entrance. You’re not sure how many he stuffed in, but it was more than before. 

You nodded with a desperate moan, your right leg slapping the mattress beneath you in frustration. You needed more. His fingers, his words–they weren’t enough. Your body was hot and sparking and you needed-needed-needed. “Joel, please,” you begged, turning to face him, finally opening your eyes again. He was stroking himself and the sight of his cock made you drool. 

“Whatchu need, sweetheart?” He asked and you could almost kill him for it.  

“Please, please fuck me, Joel. Please.”

“Need it that bad, huh?” He kicked off his boots and shoved his pants all the way down to the floor. 

You got out of the way as he crawled into the bed and sat up against the headboard. 

“Come and get this cock, you fuckin slut,” he growled. One hand held his length while the other pulled you by the arm. 

You were too hungry to notice how tightly he gripped you. You hovered over his lap as he lined himself up with your entrance. You stared at the curve of his lips on the way down, the mix of gray and brown hairs in his mustache. But there was white on his cheeks and chin. You briefly wondered how old he was. But you couldn’t bring yourself to get a good look at his face. Too busy melting from the pressure of his cock stretching your walls. Fuck, it felt good. You braced yourself on his firm, wide shoulders and brought your hips back up a few inches before sinking down on his length even further. You groaned and tucked your head into his neck.

#######

You started sucking on his neck and his hips began to thrust up into you.

“It ain’t enough that I’m stuffin your cunt?” he grunted. “You need me in your mouth, too?”

You moaned against his throat, sending goosebumps all over his skin. “Yeah,” you said through panting breaths, before latching back on, teeth and tongue digging into his muscle. 

Joel liked you. He really liked you. You were wet and riding him just right. You weren’t mechanical about it, neither–like Joel was just another job to you. There was a sadness to you, sure. It was probably why you didn’t get a lot of men. Men wanted to forget their troubles at the brothel. Have some fun. They wanted the world outside to disappear with their cock inside a woman.

But Joel had tried that. And it hadn’t worked out so good.

So this time, he looked for someone different. Someone who would understand. Someone who would get why he needed to fuck and when and how he needed to fuck, too. 

And you were telling him everything he needed to know. He was learning what you wanted and what you liked and what he could use to threaten you into compliance. 

He pulled you away from his neck, not sure how he felt about being covered in hickeys. “Here,” Joel prodded your lips with his middle and ring finger. “Suck on this, you greedy little slut.”

And you did, moaning desperately as you rolled your hips in his lap. You gagged as he slid his fingers back and forth on your tongue, saliva spilling from the edges of your lips and down your chin. Your eyes were closed and he knew there was nothing going on in your mind. He knew you were focused on nothing but how good he was making you feel.

You started bouncing on his cock and he slapped your ass with his free hand. He gripped your hip hard enough to bruise, forcing you to stop.

“Did I say you could do that?”

Your eyes popped open–meeting his directly. You tried to pull your head away to answer, but Joel shoved his fingers in even further.

He repeated himself. “You tryin to come right now? Did I say you could?”

You let out a pathetic whine and shook your head.

He slapped your ass again and this time he noticed your pussy clench around him. He heard a small moan grow and die in your throat. “You come when I fuckin say you can come,” he snarled with his teeth clenched. He smacked your asscheek again and thrust up into you. 

You whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut. 

“That turn you on?” He gripped your ass in his hand. “You like takin’ your medicine, bad girl?”

You tried to turn your head, but Joel still had his fingers in your mouth and he held you in place. You looked at him with the most pathetic, pleading look.

“I asked you a question,” Joel growled with wide eyes. His cock twitched inside of you. “You like takin’ your medicine? You like bein told what to do?”

You squeezed your eyes shut again and quietly nodded.

Joel liked that. He liked that a lot. He took his fingers from your mouth and gripped your cheeks. Your eyes popped open again. He licked his lips. “You be a good girl and make me come first, then we���ll see what you get, okay?”

You nodded.

“Now what do you say?”

Your brows furrowed. 

“When I tell you what to do, what do you say?”

Your face softened. You blinked slowly before answering. “Yes, sir.”

“That’s right.” Joel grunted and thrusted his hips. “Now, make me come, you little slut.” His fingers dug into your own hips to guide your rhythm to what he wanted. “Make me come and we’ll see what you get.”

“Yes, sir. Yes, sir,” you murmured again and again.

Your warm, wet cunt sucked him in and stroked him. He could hear it, too, how drippy and turned on you were. It wasn’t long before he tossed you off him with a grunt, throwing you onto your back on the bed. He only fisted his cock twice before shooting his spend on your spread open pussy, on the hair on your mound. He wiped his cum down and around on your clit. “Come on, girl. You can come now. Come on,” he chanted. He rubbed your clit back and forth with the flat of his four fingers. “Give that greedy little cunt what it needs. Come on.”

Your body curled in as you orgasmed and you moaned loudly into your arm. Joel didn’t see the need for you to be quiet, but it was too late to do anything about it now. He rubbed you with his thumb until your legs clasped shut and you squirmed away.

He wiped his hands on the sheets and got up from the bed. He pulled his jeans back on, but waited to buckle his belt. He sat back down and put his shoes on.

You were still lying where he left you. Curled up in the fetal position. It almost looked like you were falling asleep. He figured you might as well rest up now. The drive back home was a bumpy one.

He sighed when he stood up. He figured he should get the liquor bottles out of the truck sooner than later. He huffed. Larry was a real piece of shit for trading a woman for liquor. But Joel wanted you. And he was gonna have you.

#######

You were reeling. Sexually, you were satisfied, but every other emotion bursted and channeled itself through your muscles and across your skin. You felt so vulnerable. This man had seen you–seen you! Like you were a real person or something! Like you weren’t just a ghost or a character in a movie! Everything felt wrong and you couldn’t figure out why. And you couldn’t stop thinking about Carrie for some reason.

You stayed as still as possible until you heard Joel’s booted footsteps leave the room. You were grateful he didn’t say anything or try to touch you again. Your body trembled as you got out of the bed. You walked on shaky legs to the bathrooms to clean yourself. The world around you was so close and too clear. You could hear and differentiate everyone’s voices in the main room. The air was humid and you could taste it–actually taste it like it was a wet, moldy cloud in your mouth. 

Your hands tremored. You tried to exert control over them, but you were barely able to turn on the sink. You mostly swatted at the faucets until water came out. And there was no comfort to be had in the warm, rushing water. You noticed tension in your cheeks and thought you wanted to cry, but couldn’t make any tears come out.

The woman in the mirror scared you. It was you. You knew it was you. But she felt unfamiliar. Three dimensional. You wanted to run. Run away to the Quarantine Zone or—or anywhere but here.

Then you heard screaming, shrill screams from what had to be one of the other women. Suddenly you were being dragged out of the bathroom. Trisha’s hands were on you. Her fingers were small and thin and her skin was smooth and cold. You had never noticed before.

The lights in the main room were so bright that you could see everything. Every small piece of leather that had flaked off each of the couches and landed on the dirty, carpeted floor. The carpet itself was covered in dust and dirt and leaves. Where did the leaves come from? you wondered. How did they get tracked inside? Weren’t people wiping their shoes like they were supposed to?

There were people moving around. Naked. Half-naked. Clothed. All talking over each other. And blood. Bright red blood. One of the women, with long gold hair, was covered in it, shrieking in pain with both her hands on her hip. Two others guided her past you towards the back. One of Joel’s men was apologizing to Larry. He had black curly hair and a thick mustache. Larry was screaming in his face.

You saw Joel from the back as he pushed himself up from the couch. His shoulder rose and fell with deep, heaving breaths. There was blood dripping from his fist and there was someone beneath him. Once he stepped away, you saw an oblong fleshy ball of bright red where a face should have been. The body beneath the ball didn’t move. 

You folded in half and started heaving. Trisha shrieked in your ear. 

“I’m so sick of you assholes coming here and-and-and-and–” Larry was caught in a loop as he pulled his gun from his pocket. It was a small revolver. You watched his gray-skinned thumb pull back the hammer. “I’m sure! I’m sure!” he yelled over the shouting.

The man with the black curly hair lunged at Larry with a curse. 

The gun-shot stilled everyone in the room. It was loud enough that for a moment, you thought you had been shot. The vibrations pierced you to the very center of your being. But then… Larry was on the floor. Sprinkled with dust from the ceiling tile. And then there was more blood. Bright red blood spilling out from his body. 

You breathed in relief. Not only that you were still alive, but that it was Larry that was dead. For a few beautiful seconds, you felt free. Free from his bullshit and free from the brothel. Free to go back to the quarantine zone and start over again.

Trisha’s smooth fingers pulled one of your arms, but something warm and calloused pulled your other. You looked up, confused. It was Joel. Joel’s hand, which had been on you only minutes previous, felt so strange and unfamiliar. You had just shared a bed with him but–that had been a different man. Certainly different than the one that stood before you now with blood-splattered on his clothes and sweat beading around his temples. 

“You can’t take her!” Trisha cried, tears pouring out her eyes. “You can’t take her!”

“Sorry, darlin’,” he said. Joel’s eyes looked sad. “She’s mine now.”

Terror fell over you like a cold, biting wind. He was talking about you.

Your body started trembling again. You tried and failed to pull your arm away from his grip. “NO!” You shouted. Your vision went blurry as you sobbed. “Don’t take me! Please!” That was why you couldn’t stop thinking about Carrie. Joel had bought Carrie. Trisha had told you that Joel had bought Carrie. But the information hadn’t clicked into place. You had spent so long avoiding your body, avoiding feeling any emotion at all that when it spent all night trying to warn you, you couldn’t hear it. You couldn’t feel the siren in your gut telling you to stay away from Joel. And now that siren was loud and clear. But it was far too late for you to do anything about it. “Don’t take me! Pleasepleaseplease!”

Joel didn’t budge. He leaned in real close to you. “Now you told me you like bein told what to do.” Your face went fiery hot with shame. He yanked your arm, pulling you from Tasha’s grip. “And right now, I’m tellin you that you’re comin with me.” He continued to pull you out the front door, towards his truck.

“No! Nonono!” You cried. You tried one more time to shake him off, but it was pointless. He was too strong. You were too weak. And you started to wonder if you could have prevented this or if it was simply your fate. Your own boss hadn’t been able to say ‘no’ to these men. What could someone like you have done?

You sobbed into your hands as you sat in the truck. The man with the black curly hair got in the driver’s seat. Joel sat on the other side of you and rubbed your back in some sick attempt at comfort. “You be good for me–” he said, adjusting himself. “--then we’ll see what you get.” 

+++++

a/n: Please let me know if I missed a tag. Also, idk if it's really a DDDNE story or not. ??

story title taken from the song "Mary the Ice Cube" by Primus.

[goosefruit]

rock, paper, …

vanessa shelly x fem!reader

subby vanessa 💖

cw: smut, scissoring, masturbation, pillow humping, porn watching, mentions of oral sex

a/n: hello im back from the dead and fyi im sorry if this is so unserious but i just rly wanted to write this for some reason

================================================

You had a hunch of where you could find Vanessa when you came home to an eerily silent house. 

Creeping up to the bedroom door, your suspicions were confirmed by the faintest groans coming from the room. You couldn’t help but smile at the familiar noise, one that made you squeeze your thighs together as you anticipated what awaited you on the other side of the door. Making an effort to be quiet, you entered. 

A very gorgeous and very naked Vanessa laid on the bed, a fluffy pillow between her legs and a laptop propped up beside her. Even from here, you could see the large wet patch forming as she desperately rocked her hips back and forth, the flush on her pale skin growing deeper with every gasp that fell from her lips. 

Her work clothes were strewn messily on the floor, evidently in a frantic rush.

Poor Vanessa. So horny she could hardly wait till she got home.

It almost made you want to forgive her for having fun without you. 

You stood there, admiring her, for only moments more before she realized your presence. 

“Oh shit! I’m- sorry baby, I lost track of time.” Vanessa slammed the laptop shut in one swift movement while reaching over to cover herself with the bedsheets. Your usually dominant girlfriend melted into a puddle of embarrassment at being caught in such a position.

“I’m quite offended that you didn’t invite me to join,” you rolled your eyes at her playfully, sauntering up to her side of the bed. “And what were you watching? Don’t tell me those pictures I sent to you just last week weren’t enough!”

“I just, um—had fantasies.” 

She made no attempt to stop you as you reached for her laptop, and you took that as permission to flip it open.

“Oh, you dirty girl…” you mumbled as the screen lit up to reveal a video of two women with their thighs interlocked, wet cores pressing up against each other. One of them was blonde, and the other had hair that resembled yours. “So this is what you fantasize about us doing?”

A little noise escaped from the back of her throat as she met your gaze—pupils sinfully blown, green eyes slightly hooded over as if to plead with you. The sound of shifting beneath the sheets told you that she continued to pleasure herself against the pillow. 

“Y/N. My pussy aches, fuck, so bad, every time I think about rubbing it on yours. I can’t help myself.” She panted, lids drooping though she tried to maintain eye contact.

“Let me give you what you so desperately need, sweet girl. Come here.”

It took mere seconds for your clothes to join Vanessa’s on the floor. You climbed on top of her, tangling your fingers deep in her hair, savouring her lips in a heated kiss. Her needy moans sent goosebumps along your skin, and you were soaked, through and through. It drove you crazy when your girlfriend was loud in bed. 

Peeling back the sheets, you pulled away from her mouth to take in her naked form. You grabbed the pillow from between her thighs, the musky scent of her sticky goodness lingering on the fabric.

“So perfect, baby,” you held one of her legs up, allowing yourself to shimmy between them, just until your vulvas were inches away from touching. “Gonna bury my face in this pussy after we’re done here.”

Her hands gripped on to your hips as she tried to pull you in closer, but you wanted to take your time with her, tease her a little.

“Y/N, I swear to god…”  

You rolled your hips forward so that you barely grazed against her. A shaky moan sounded in the back of your throat at how slippery she felt — heaven. Pure heaven. 

Vanessa seemed to agree, throwing her head back as her chest heaved with gasps and pants. Her nails dug into the skin of your hips. Unable to hold back for any longer, you closed the distance between you, thighs fitting together like the last two pieces of a puzzle waiting to be solved.

The first sensation melted away any thoughts left in your head. So warm, and so, so, wet. 

“Fuuuck,” Vanessa groaned, her voice raspy and gravelly. 

You grinded frantically, trying to find some friction for your swollen clit. The squelch of wetness joined the chorus of lewd sounds that already filled the room. 

“Mmm- you like that baby?” You panted out. “Doesn’t my pussy feel so much better than that damn pillow? Hmm?”

“Oh yes, baby, you feel so fucking amazing. Fuck…don’t stop, please go faster..” Her hips moved in small circles, and she let out a soft moan every time it hit the spot just right. 

“No pillow can fuck you as good as I can. Can a pillow fuck you like this?”

“No! Only you can!” Vanessa’s mouth fell open as her brows began to furrow. 

The whole bed shook from your effort, and you had to interrupt the intensity of the moment to move her laptop—that was still on the bed—to the night stand. She giggled as you stretched over, barely reaching the nightstand, given your current position.

Her hands traveled up your chest, massaging your tits and admiring how your nipples hardened under her touch.

“Let’s cum together,” she gazed up at you, full of lust, immediately bringing the mood back.

It only took minutes more before you were both on the edge. Every time your clit bumped against hers, you became increasingly aware that you weren’t going to last very much longer.

“Nessy, I’m close,” you hated how pathetic you sounded in that moment, but were too horny to care. 

Vanessa grabbed your hips once again, and gave a few more firm thrusts. 

That was all you needed. The pressure ignited the fireworks in your stomach, setting off explosions of pleasure. Vanessa squeezed her eyes shut, the arch in her back and the twitch of her thighs telling you that she too, had teetered off the edge.

“I’m in love with your pussy,” she moaned blissfully, words slurred. 

You tried to reciprocate, but, well—a hoarse scream was all you managed. 

For a minute or two after, you remained in your position, basking in the afterglow. Her sweaty body underneath you, core still radiating warmth against your own. 

“So,” you broke the silence, smiling at her. 

“So..” she beamed back.

Slowly, you untangled your shaky legs from hers, a string of wetness connecting her to you for a moment longer. You leaned in to kiss her, and ran your tongue along her chapped lips. 

“By the way, I haven’t forgotten about the promise I made earlier,” you whispered into the kiss suggestively. “I still want my dinner.”

“All yours,” she whispered back. “Though I wonder if it will taste any different…now that your uh…juice is mixed in with mine.”

“Ooh, can’t wait! It’s like a new smoothie flavour!”

She shook her head, laughing, as you got on your stomach. 

[hyperionheights]

bones sexuality headcanons

yeah i dont have proof (except angela) i just Know. call it my lesbian spidey senses. disclaimer that those are MY headcanons, you can have your own opinions on those ofc

main characters:

brennan: bi (preference for ugly men... but i digress). she probably started exploring her sexual orientiation in college and came to the conclusion that she's attracted to every gender to varying degrees. she's probably tongue kissed angela a few times pre season 1

booth: cishet ally! ⭐️ he's a bit confused but he's got the spirit, i'll give him that.. bi wife energy start playing whenever he walks into the room

zack: gayboi with a bad case of hero worship for dr brennan. naomi from paleonthology made him realise this isnt really what he'd like to excavate, if you get the gist... ;) (ew)

angela: imo? bi, but it's up to anyone. canon queer and i'm very happy about it

hodgins: bi. putting my foot down on this one- to me, hodgela is bi4bi. one day early into the series angela goes "why is everyone so hot... being bi is so hard" and hodgins is like "yeah, tell me about it" and they have a Oh, You Too? moment

cam: distinguished (ex-disaster) pan. she's all cool and collected now but in middle school she was probably stuttering whenever she saw a pretty girl

sweets: pan. boykisser. i just KNOW. that man is not heterosexual. probably had a few boyfriends in high school too

aubrey: bi? preference for women but in an alternate universe he and sweets are a thing

goodman: token straightie along with booth except i actually like him even tho even tho he took a 2 month sabbatical and never came back

squinterns:

clark: bi. a bit repressed and only realised it after breaking up with nora but as long as he gets there it's fine

daisy: pan. absolute girlkisser. she has the wlw equivalent of whatever zack felt for dr brennan. swaisy is a disaster pan couple.

fisher: pan- and i wont have it any other way. he was 100% checking sweets out when he came over to b&b's in s8, so i like to think when hodgins asks sweets "what is it with you and interns?" in 9x23 he's including fisher

wendell: bi and in a lab au he's dating vincent thank you

vincent: english twink and i think he and wendell should kiss in the lab lost & found

arastoo: straightie but we still love him. pan wife energy since he and cam are married

finn: god, i have No Idea but i have a feeling he doesn't either

wells: aro, and maybe ace too, but fyi even if he wasn't no one would want him

jessica: ... i used to say lesbian but i kinda let the jaubrey of it all get to me... pan vibes perhaps? i'll have to think it over. in another universe she and daisy are a thing too btw

other characters:

caroline julian:... lesbian. no i will not give an explanation for this one. sham marriage and all.

karen delfs: big pansexual energy coming from this random profiler?? i like her

villains: (do not take those seriously, but also...)

pelant: unlabeled. getting strangled by hodgins awoke something in him but he didnt have the time to figure it out between 8x01 and 9x04

taffet: very VERY mean lesbian

epps: heterosexual incel

broadsky: internalised homophobia over booth, clearly

kovac: the man pretended to be married to his sister. i'm not sure i even wanna know

[zombiiegrr]

no one knows . 💌

dbf ! joel x fem! reader

cw : dumbification, a bit of overstimulation, slight degrading, heavy praise, age gap (Joels 40, readers 21 ) , daddy kink , slightly pentup joel, mentions of breeding, bit of jealousy talk of exhibition and sex with multiple of ppl. afab reader !! w she/her pronouns ..

there’s a slight mention of his arms being the size of your face and him holding you up while u.. welp! but fyi Joel is beefy and over 6’2 in this fanfic just for my own “personal” liking he is STRONG cause im a big girl myself don’t feel like you gotta size down for this! not at all. enjoy sweetheart ≧◡≦

☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆

You were beautiful and finally wanted to visit home. College in California was amazing being originally from Dallas, Texas loving the beaches and the social life back in Cali away from your Christian strict family who didn’t understand the point of being an adult is living your life not doing anything that other people wanted you to do but living how you wanted to.

everyone was trying to talk to you sliding smart remarks about you “developing and showing it” all giving you fake smiles as they “ adjusted” your shirt that was perfectly appropriate but had to have the church’s approval. You quickly make your way away from everyone and made the small walk about to your childhood home. You walked in taking a deep breath looking for your father making your way into the garage 

Honestly you were distracted , not by everyone calling and wanting to see you, not by people wondering how you grew into a women so fast and making you uncomfortable with the way they were adjusting. no you were distracted by the man working on the car before you in your fathers garage covered in car oil who surprised you 

Joel miller

You would never say that you were shy or even think after dealing with college boys that any man would make you feel nervous or even needy. But Joel managed to make you feel like a teen again he made you want his attention by doing small things like bending over and spilling water on your white shirt trying to make eye contact with him not winning as he locked eye contact with you.

you greeted your dad handing him the water he yelled for when you walked in, bending over to see the older man under the car who wanted anything to drink or snack on.

“s’okay darlin lemme finish this part up and I’ll take you on that offer” he answered grunting as he fixed up the small part he was screwing back into place his arms looked like the size of your face he put his strength into this small piece of the car

you felt like a perv as you watched his whole bodywork on this car sliding out looking around for his small towel to wipe anything that got onto his face in the way. you didn’t dress up not expecting him to wear an old volleyball jersey and some cherry-printed shorts with long white socks that you grabbed from your father's room

you suddenly felt underdressed and he looked at every detail of your outfit making you feel like changing into something he might like. As he finished up standing reminding you how he felt like he was towering over you as he reached to put the oil behind you not breaking eye contact.

your dad invited him over for the game wanting to drink beer and asked you if you wanted to join. You didn’t know anything about football or anything they talked about but you knew Joel would be there and agreed to watch the game with them.

Joel said he would head over to his place to freshen up cause he was covered in oil and sweat. you thought about putting something nicer but didn’t want to be obvious that you were trying to impress him you felt so desperate for this older man’s attention as he slip out of your home.

you decided to just breathe and clear your mind and relax clearing any impure thoughts in your mind before walking out into the living room again. You did put on a tad bit of perfume and some lip gloss staying in your room until you hear Joel’s trunk pull up again.

He let himself in and after twenty minutes you sat in between your father and Joel as the game went on. Your dad had about 3 beers at this time and wasn’t even staying awake for the game and started to fall asleep excusing himself for a “break” knowing he was going to knock out. Joel didn’t say much as he was focusing on the game as he stretched his arm on the armrest behind you closing in the space between the both of you.

“So. College?” Joel broke the silence making you perk up from looking at your thighs.

“College..” you mumbled not knowing where he was going with that but happy to talk to him.

“Any new things you can’t share with your father” he joked with a visible smirk growing

you playfully pushed his arm “wouldn’t you like to know” you replied

“so not the good girl I know anymore? shoulda known” now that got a reaction out of you due to the nickname you sure did enjoy.

“I haven’t been for a while mr. miller” you whispered as you put you head back on the couch. he looked at you clearly not focused on the game anymore

“speak up honey didn’t quite hear you.” he said not letting you break eye contact with him while he took in all of your reactions.

“I'm not a good girl anymore Mr. miller” you said loud enough for him to hear you not wanting to be quiet this time. The look he was giving you wasn’t clear you couldn’t tell if he was upset or turned on by whatever you were saying but you didn’t want to stop.

he just kept looking at you. You wanted to beg him to say something looking at you like he wanted something from you but didn’t want to say it. Like he was scared of doing something like if he wouldn’t be able to stop himself but that was you just hoping

“gotta watch that mouth sunshine or you're gonna give me the wrong idea” he said as he arm left from behind you rubbing his eyebrows

“what? you scared sir?” that got his attention as he shot his eyes at you. “it’s almost like you lost that touch I would hear you and my dad talking about I wanna see what the fuss is about”

“geez you are gonna kill me sugar” he laughed to you as he adjusted his pants “I have no clue what your talking about. I ain’t lost my touch”

you took a swing of the left over beer you had on the table scooting your hips a bit closer to him

“Maybe those college boys just don’t know what they're doing” You paused looking at him, while he watched you waiting for the rest of your sentence “They don’t know how to make me feel good Joel, or is that just all men?” You whispered in his ear as you could see his pants getting a bit tight again giving you a confidence boost.

You excepted another shut down or him telling you to watch your mouth but you felt his hands pulling you by your hips and the other pulling you by your face his lips tasting like candy and beer mixing the fruit flavors you had placed on the table

“Ain’t you a dirty girl” is all he said as you moaned against his lips looking for some relief while your body ached to be touched by the older man in front of you. You were now sitting in his lap as you rode his thigh as he kissed your neck and collarbone. You didn’t know how or why it took so little for him to touch you but you didn’t care.

He held your thighs in place laughing at how needy you were for him he stopped kissing you and just was taking a good look at you sighing

‘m suppose to be watching the game” he said while rubbing your thighs clearly hard underneath you. “we shouldn’t do this darlin” he whispered

“but you want to” you answered grinding yourself on him as he grunted gripping your thighs a bit tighter. He kissed your arm a bit more and told you for your good he would be heading home.

“joel-.” He cut you off with a kiss then a kiss on the forehead telling you to head to bed.

You couldn’t believe you got womanly blue balled and knew you had to keep getting back at him.

you walked him out with a clearly frustrated look making him laugh at you again. As he said his goodbyes telling you to rest easy.

you weren’t gonna make this easy for him

two days later . 💌

You greeted the small group of ppl your father had invited over getting water from the fridge happy that your dad had gave up on making you change your outfits since 10th grade.

you wore that shirt on purpose. you were teasing him. he sat with a hard-on while you served everyone drinks with that cute white sheer t-shirt with a cute red lace push-up sticking out while your cute miniskirt struggled to stay covering your ass as you bounced around the kitchen you’d purposely bend over a little farther every time you gave a drink to someone in front of him spreading your legs fat enough for him to see what he wanted but for so short of time.

“excuse me Joel” you giggled as you gave him a clear view of under your skirt in front of all your father's friends “passing” by him to sit inside on the couch.

the men started asking you the same questions, about the school, and my plans for afterward you would feel Joel’s eyes on you as you shamelessly flirted with the older men at the table

you pulled out your phone texting the number you stole from your dads phone excusing yourself to the bathroom

“hi there mr.miller” you texted waiting for a reply as you watched him look at his phone from the bathroom window.

he smirked a bit before replying “Get out of the bathroom” You giggled as you reached to take a picture of the wet mark growing in your underwear under your mini skirt pulling your underwear to the side a bit showing a little more for him. you sent the picture then looked out the window to see his reaction

he spit on his drink and quickly excused himself from the table making you laugh as you exited the bathroom looking at your phone to see you were still on read. you giggled as you walked not watching where you were going feeling an arm pulling you back to the bathroom you had just left

“Are you batshit? right in front of your father? aint you a dirty bitch did you want them all to see” he was so angry you could see his muscles flexing all of his insults went straight to your underwear and you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter for him as he pushed you against the bathroom door locking it behind you

“getting so worked up over a picture geez how long as it been” you joked throwing coal in the fire as you watched for his reaction

“Such a dirty mouth. s’okay you just need a man to fuck it shut. on your knees” You crossed your arms acting as if you wanted nothing more than his cock bruising your throat

“don’t fucking make me make you” You giggled at him as you went down slowly feeling him force you down faster sliding his sweats down sliding his boxers down next. he was so big and heavy it’s not like you didn’t guess he would be but seeing it up close scared you a bit. he told you to open up so you did way quicker than you probably should’ve giving you no time as he started to tease you before giving you one last breath and stuffing your throat

He was laughing at all the noises you made and the way you pulled on his sweats and squeezed his thighs you could take it you knew you could but you didn’t know he would make you take it so fast

“‘m gonna cum faster then i wanted to fucking tight throat ” you hummed on his cock as he gave you no mercy letting out curses and groans he pulled your head back and started to jerk off right above your face groaning as you looked him right in the eyes

“silly girl you just wanted attention aint that right” he joked as he slapped himself on your cheek grabbing your head once again and slamming himself right back into your throat

“fucking showing off in front of everyone. you want them to fuck you too? all of us fuckin you dumb” you shook your head as he pulled out of you to let you talk

“no no i want you” you mumbled while taking deep breaths as you watched him jerk off in front of you again.

“I know sugar I know cause i wouldn let anyone fuck what’s mine,” he said as you finally make your throat feel full again. He started to shake and grip your head harder as he let out more praises for you

“fuckin take it fuck me” he whispers as he paints the inside of your throat with his cum making sure you shallow and don’t waste a drop of him. As he finally comes back to his senses he starts to kiss your forehead as you hear your father calling out to you for being gone for a while

you try to call back even with the sore throat saying you would be right there. Looking at Joel who looked more relaxed shooting him air kisses and you walked out of the bathroom.

a few days later 🥀

you missed Joel texting him once and a while teasing him with pictures getting a call right away. You had the house to yourself as you walked around in pretty underwear and a small top you had since the junior year you jumped when you seen a man inside your sink you noticed right away it was the man you had been cumming to for the last few nights.

you cleared your throat making him aware of you and seeing him peak out while looking you up and down as he kept working

“ain’t you up early” he grumbled and he sounded like he finished up whatever he was working up sitting up and starting to clean and wash his hands in the sink

you just looked at him as he washed his hands and nails being such a clean man. you suddenly felt needy for him again realizing he hasn’t even touched you and you’ve had his cock in your mouth

you started to rub on his arm making him look at you real quick then looking around

“what time do you think your dad will be back” he asked

“around 9 pm it’s only 10 am right now,” you said giving him a nice view of the cute underwear you threw on he chuckled at you and bit your shoulder gently and kissed up slowly. you wiggled under him wanting more as you started to hold yourself in place bending you over the kitchen counter. he slowly took off your underwear dropping to his knees and letting out a beautiful sound while he looked at your bare cunt already wet for him he slowly kiss around your thighs and made his way slowly to your aching core not knowing when or how he was going to touch you

you felt him kiss your clit making you moan softly as he opened you up slowly he was focusing hard on your clit and it was driving you over the edge already. You had wanted him so bad and now you had him and you could feel yourself losing it quickly he brought his hand up along your leg squeezing gently finally bringing his long fingers up to your begging body

his thick fingers stretched you out nice as you squeezed around him leaning on the kitchen sink you couldn’t breathe and didn’t know how you were so close to just his fingers and mouth.

“I ain’t the stupid boys you fuck around with dumb girl,” he said gripping your face and making you look at him as he used his mouth to play with your desperate clit. “s’okay gonna fuck that cunt straight baby girl so desperate for a breeding” That drove you over the edge as he touched everywhere you needed

“m sorry Daddy” You had never called anyone that before never feeling like it never fit with the boys the same age as you seeing as they never did this much foreplay with you.

He kept his eyes on you as he smirked at the name you had slipped out. he forced you to look at him not that you wanted to look at anything else. you repeated the nickname slower while you clenched around his fingers.

“aint that fucking pathetic. you want me that bad?” you nodded quickly as he was laughing at how shameless you were being for him. “such a stupid girl”

you could feel yourself getting closer as he continued to lick your sensitive clit while fingering you as the wet sounds grew and grew

“m gonna- can i?” you felt yourself asking if you could cum for him knowing you would even if he said no way to close to stop yourself now

“cum for you ‘daddy’ darlin” You allowed yourself to cum while slightly mocking you keeping the same pace which you were happy for not even begging to argue with him mocking you as it turned you on even more. He didn’t stop after you came holding you in place as you shook in his mouth feeling tears touch your cheeks taking all of him and he enjoyed your reaction. you couldn’t take it anymore gripping his hair crying out for him as you started to cum again so quickly

It took you so long to stop shaking on his fingers before he pulled your arm walked you to your bedroom and pushed you onto your bed you legs were shaking as you still felt sensitive from the overstimulation in the kitchen. You could hear his belt buckle coming off and felt his hands touching you all over again as he stretched your pussy wider lining himself up against your wet hole you couldn’t help but shake underneath him looking at how big he was again

“is it gonna fit?” you asked shaky looking back at him

“we’ll make it fit” he mumbles as he slides himself slowly into you getting a groan and whimper from the both of you as he filled you up so beautifully you gripped the sheets mumbling about how big he was you could feel your legs go numb as he slowed pressed into you.

“aint even all of me baby” he laughed as he pressed farther into you filling you up in a way you had never felt before. He was finally stopping for a second giving you a bit of time to adjust to him.

“Please move Joel i-I need it” you finally said as you got needy from the cockwarming it only took a second more of begging before Joel was slowly taking you. You keep squeezing hoping he would go faster

“behave” was all he said as he spanked you, you let out a long whine wanting him more than anything knowing you could take it

“m a big girl I can ta-take it” is all you said before you felt your arms being pulled back as he started to slam himself into you. You couldn’t breathe anymore as moans and cries were slipping out of you

the older man was letting out cuss words and beautiful praises as he fucked you senseless

“fucking mine you ain’t ever fucking those boys ever again baby girl.” Joel could feel himself becoming drunk off of you as he put his arm under your neck pushing your body onto his as he kept fucking himself into you.

you could barely think as he fucked parts of you he was filling you up so good as you lost your thoughts and could only think about Joel and how good you were feeling

“please Joel I can feel you so deep please please Joel” you kept repeating as you got closer and closer again he kissed your neck noticing you slipping under him he pulled out making you cry at the loss of him flipping you over so your legs rested on his shoulders and he could look at you while he fucked himself into you.

“That’s a good girl. you alright sweetheart” he lightly slapped your cheek getting your attention and making sure you weren’t too lost to tell him you needed a break and this was the only time he could feel himself able to stop

“m ok.. please,” you said as you rocked your hips into him needing to feel him deep inside you again. Seeing you so drunk off of him brought him over the edge he could feel himself getting there as he brought his fingers to touch your aching clit and brought you there with him as he slowly thrust into you kissing you gently making you lose yourself again.

“feel so good. sweetheart you feel so good” he whimpered out making you squeeze around him kissing him sloppy as his fingers touched right where you needed them. you grabbed onto his arm lazily trying to make him aware but he could feel it and hear how breathless you were getting he could hear how sloppy you sounded for him again unable to stop himself he kept going until you were there

“you fucking my cock so good. good job sugar” he talking you through it praising you as you bounced up and down on him.

“Where do you want me,” he asked praying you said inside he didn’t want to cum anywhere else he just wanted to watch himself leak out of your claiming your pussy as his.

“in- inside in please I want it so bad please ” you didn’t even recognize yourself as you begged still sensitive and shaking.

“I got you Darlin Jesus I’m gonna breed this pussy sugar” he mumbled as he let out a long groan as he pushed your legs back stuffing himself into you as he fill you up warm. he still kept kissing the side of your neck as he let out beautiful songs as you lightly squeezed around him not wanting to waste anything.

you both sat there with his head in your neck and your arms around him. he didn’t move for a bit as you started to recollect yourself gathering everything squeezing his neck and smelling his hair . he pulled himself out slowly earning a moan at the loss. he left for a second leaving you a bit lonely coming back with water, a wet washrag, and baby wipes from the bathroom.

“you gotta go pee, sweetheart” he reminded you as he cleaned you off gently kissing every part he cleaned putting the water bottle in your hand

“please don’t leave while i pee” you said using him to stand up limping to the bathroom

“wouldn’t dream of it darling” as you came back from the bathroom and the rubbed all over you making sure you were comfortable and that you didn’t regret anything he was so gentle and you didn’t want to be anywhere else. you had time before your father came back and just wanted to relax with Joel.

authors note! 📩

HIII THIS IS KINDA LONG DID U GUYS LIKE ITTTT PLZ LMKK IF U DID i havent wrote in so long and this isn’t even proof read wtf but yeah okay thank you so much for reading sorry the aftercare part kinda sucked I suck at that. plz Lmk if u guys want anything else okay bye bye love you!

[ladysophiebeckett]

This post is super long and idk who will read it but if there's anything I love to do on the internet its post aimlessly to no one. (anyway)

It gets said a lot that Betty was naïve in how she entered her relationship with Armando, but we fail to take into account how desperate Betty was to live her own life. From the beginning of her character arc she talks about needing a change.

It starts with Roman's invitation, saying he has a guy for Betty but she needs to ask permission (at her 25 yrs of age). Don Hermes says no.

Betty argues back. Don Hermes' excuse is 'you can't go out with strangers'. But Betty isn't really fighting about going out with some guy. Deep down she knows Roman and his neighborhood troublemaking annoying friends are up to no good. It's not about them. It's about her wanting something, asking for it and being denied.

The scene ends like this:

He says the world is dangerous for women and she doesn't understand that. She claims that she can defend herself and he says the above. Betty runs off crying. Dona Julia goes after her and when she returns Don Hermes asks if she's calmed down. From that question alone, it seems as if this isn't the first time Betty has fought with her dad about the rules he imposes upon her. Nor is it the first time that Betty has ran out of a room crying bc she fought with him and lost.

This has happened before.

I don't want to assume that everyone feels the way I feel about Don Hermes, which is that he's annoying. (I'm using 'annoying' as a broad term to describe his overprotection and the traditional\patriarchal way he runs his household, fyi, I know its there. I see it. But I'm not going to delve in that direction).

But there's a reason he's annoying (overprotective). Everything he does for Betty is laced with good intentions, but those good intentions are a double edged sword. At this stage in the story he appears overprotective and suffocating. It's when Dona Julia is pleading with him to let Betty go out that we hear a mention about Miguel (whose original name was 'Juan Ramon' but gets changed to 'Miguel' later on)--a guy who Betty cared about but 'disappeared'.

Let's backtrack to Betty running out of the room when Don Hermes says no. She cries to her mother about how overprotective and controlling her dad is. It's one of the few times Betty is open with someone about how she feels about the way he treats her. We get brief information about how he decided her education, about how she was sent to catholic school, how she wasn't allowed to hang out with the other girls bc she was too young, that the only male friend she was allowed to have was Nicolas and it was bc they were 'practically raised together' (and bc they knew his mother).

She continues to say ‘how is a man going to see me as a normal woman if you keep me treating me like a child? When the only thing I do is stay locked away in this room with only books and stuffed animals?’ The Miguel Situation gets its first mention and its foreshadowed that it hurt Don Hermes and Dona Julia to see their daughter suffer, but Betty says that one bad experience shouldn’t be a reason why she stays that way the rest of her life (which is very brave of her to say considering we know later how afraid she is of letting herself fall deeper in love with Armando).

The last thing she says to Dona Julia is key,

Betty's running theme is change. The eagerness of something to change. Either she needs to change or her dad needs to change. Something needs to change bc she knows she can't keep living the way she's living. She's desperate for something, anything to happen in her life. She goes on to say:

'Queira la major estudiante, la tuvo. La queria graduada con honores, especialiaziones, la tuvo. La queira trabajando en un gran empresa, la tiene trabajando en un a gran empresa. Yo ya les cumpli. Ahora quiero cumplir con mi vida.’

Again, it's not only about going out with some guy. It's about Betty living her own life now that she's done all the things that have been asked of her. From Betty's pov, she's played by the rules, so at what point is she free to do what she wants?

She is the quintessential good daughter, quintessential good student, and later on the quintessential loyal employee that becomes the quintessential loyal clandestine girlfriend--bc those were the rules she was told to play by. But she's at a point in her life where that's not enough to sustain her.

After hearing this, Dona Julia goes back to Don Hermes to plead on behalf of her daughter, however she says something concerning:

Dona Julia is afraid that if Don Hermes doesn't loosen his restrictions, that Betty will have a nervous breakdown and fall into a depression that will cause her to move out of the house.

Sidestepping the 'what if our daughter moves out' comment---

When Betty confides in Armando about her relationship with Miguel and how it ended, she doesn't call it 'depression'--however the way she describes it is very intune with what depression is.

She didn't want to live, she cried many nights, she missed classes at university. She lost the motivation to do anything. This is more than just a 'break up'. It's a traumatic experience and its aftermath is a period of depression that Betty almost didn't survive. Her parents watched her go through this, helplessly and Betty claims it's why her dad protects her so much.

Here we see her showing that she understands Don Hermes and why he does what he does. However, when we see Betty's childhood flashbacks post letter, we see that Don Hermes has always been this way as a consequence of how the world treats his daughter. We see that Betty gets bullied, marginalized--no loving parent wants their child to suffer. So he isolates her from that world so that nothing bad can ever touch her. He tries to provide her with everything he can--books and stuffed animals. Things to fill a void with.

No one can blame him for wanting to protect his daughter, but by isolating her he inadvertently teaches Betty that the solution to when things get hard is to lock yourself away and internalize everything.

In Don Hermes' defense his child rearing is mostly focused on ethics and math. A parent does what they can. So it's no surprise that after the Miguel Incident, he became even more tightly reigned over Betty's life. But again, it does more harm than good.

After Betty's ghosted by Roman and his sketchy loser friend, she's disappointed and cries. Don Hermes has no idea how to comfort or understand a 25 year old woman as he does not see her as one. He assuages her like a father would a child. He says 'We'll go do something together as a family. We'll go see a movie on Friday, champ'. (Not a literal translation). Then he says to Dona Julia, 'If I hadn't given her permission to begin with, then she wouldn't be upset about being (plantada\ghosted)'. He has no problem being seen as the bad guy in Betty's eyes if it means she avoids getting hurt in a worse way.

A couple days later, Don Hermes insists on driving her to work instead of her walking to her bus stop bc he fears she'll run into Roman and his current loser friends.

Betty says to him:

'Let me handle it' she says. Don Hermes doesn't look convinced. And then immediately Nicolas shows up at her door:

Dona Julia is also looking out for Betty and off screen took it upon herself to have Nicolas walk her to the bus stop that morning. She knows Betty needs some kind independence but using Nicolas as an intermediary gives her reassurance.

Betty rejects both options and rushes out the door. Don Hermes, pulling a Dona Julia, takes Nicolas with him and follows Betty on her way to her stop just in case something happens. What they see is Betty doing what she said she would do--handle it.

When left to her own devices Betty can and will handle things on her own, but both her parents insist in their own ways, to keep her in a protective bubble.

As the series progresses we see Betty become friends with el curatel, more specifically Aura Maria. We can all recall when AM has Betty join her on a double date and said date doesn't end well for Betty. Her date is uninterested, rude--despite Betty's best efforts. She gets home late and her dad is not happy. He calls her a 'descarda' when he sees the car dropping her off and then claims she didn't ask permission, to which Betty says 'Well I called my mom and let her know bc you weren't home'. Which leads to this:

Betty becomes the sole breadwinner of her household at some point but Don Hermes reminds her that that doesn't give her any right to decide what she can do with her free time or what time she can come home at. He then makes claims about AM and the men AM is associated with. Betty then defends her and the men (even tho they were lame):

Betty's face here is trying to contain herself but you can tell she's upset. Especially bc it wasn't the best evening, so to be getting yelled at over it doesn't feel worth it. But also, you can see Betty has a fire in her eyes; quiet frustration and inner rebelliousness bc she has been reminded yet again, that she has no freedom despite having a job in a 'great company' and having all the graduation merits and on top of that, now financially supporting her family. It's not enough. And might never be enough.

Despite this, Betty reigns her anger in and goes back to being the quintessential good daughter:

Don Hermes is not fully convinced but he appears to calm down after that.

A lighter altercation between them happens when he takes Betty home after a lanaziamento. He accuses her of taking too many liberties bc of the job that she has, criticizes her being out too much, criticizes her friends. His main worry is that she forgets her traditional values (Betty: Yo sigo siendo de las casa).

As we know, all Betty does is work and get caught in whatever mess el curatel gets her into. Regardless, Don Hermes doesn't like it. He doesn't like the women Betty surrounds herself with and he doesn't like her work or its events:

'The (fashion) world is too much, it's not for you'\'I know it's not my world, it's my job'.

I don't think Don Hermes is trying to be cruel when he says this, rather, I think he fears Betty will one day throw away the values and ethics he's taught her. (She kinda sorta does) Before she leaves for Cartagena, he insists she take a picture of him and Dona Julia, which gives weight to another inner fear of his; that Betty will forget her family and where she came from.

He stubbornly refuses to see (and accept) that Betty is an adult woman who wants to act like an adult woman. She does want to go out with her friends and dance and have the occasional drink. She does wants to date and meet someone, fall in love and in return show the love she's capable of giving.

She's desperate for the opportunity but believes it will never happen for her, so she decides to only dedicate herself to work and by doing so--and out of loneliness, she embraces her fantasies of (an) Armando that we know doesn't exist bc he's the only one that sees her value as a person and a professional. But when Mariana reads her the tarot cards---

Key word here: Change. Both of your lives are going to change.

Betty has been seeking a change in her life. This feeds into her illusions but she doesn't truly start to believe anything could happen until Armando begins to start acting differently around her.

We know it's the plan taking its course but for Betty this is a dream come true. But even in the beginning she's cautious, she doesn't know if the kiss they shared was a mistake and would rather not mention it to him in order to continue keeping the work relationship they already have (and she's happy to maintain if it means to being in his life).

But because Armando seeks her out, it's difficult for her to resist despite the type of relationship he's offering her. In a similar vein to Armando post letter, when he mentally refuses to put the clues together about why she's acting differently--Betty doesn't put together the recent embargo with his sudden interest in her. Where Armando chooses to be blind; Betty's inner frustrations and illusions of having something in her life that's not just work and an over controlled life, speak louder.

There is naiveté in play. It's true that she doesn't know a lot about the world but it's at the result of the overprotectiveness of Don Hermes that Betty doesn't read the signs as clearly until she reads the letter and is cruelly brought down back to earth.

Betty thought that Armando was the change she had been yearning for and her desperation for that change, for that dream to come true---is why she accepts the relationship he's offering her. He's trusted her implicitly until then, so why would she doubt him now?

The Letter happens and Betty's first instinct, the first action she wants to take is to run away. She doesn't want to go back to work, but Catalina reminds her of her responsibilities, that she can't just jump ship when people like Armando are depending on her. Betty especially can't leave as her parents are also depending on her and to quit suddenly with no warning would raise suspicions.

TW: for brief mentions of ED.

(I talk briefly about Betty skipping meals. I don't think the character has an eating disorder per say, but if you gotten this far and this makes the reader uncomfortable, count 5 paragraphs down to skip).

Betty enters the Gaslighting Arc depressed and dead inside. She's no longer a student, she can't afford to take days off to lay comatose in her bed. She also can't let her parents find out that something like Miguel (only worse) has happened to her again.

Post letter on, the series makes a habit of showing Betty either skipping breakfast or skipping dinner. Usually this is just done to show that a character is in a rush and usually bears no importance.

But this happens multiple times. At El Meson she orders vodka and they never get dinner. At Le Noir, despite Nicolas saying they make great eggs, she has him order wine. The night of Armando's last lanzamiento, Armando knows she hasn't eaten and offers to bring her dinner which she rejects. And lastly her diary entry\ voice over from the night she buys the mercedes\rejects Armando's call:

'Desvanezco' is to 'fade'\'vanish'. '...I am fading away before him while he only cares about his company' (rough translation).

Betty acknowledges here that she's not taking care of herself. In the first entry Post Letter she states that she doesn't have the strength to resuscitate herself again. She's metaphorically dead but the reality is that she's depressed and the only thing sustaining her during this period is her anger. (and alcohol). And once the Junta Directiva happens and everything is revealed, Betty in only left with the hurt.

(TW: End of ED mention)

Audience members get annoyed with Betty in the first half of the Cartagena Arc bc she continues to put herself down--Catalina is almost the audience insert with how put off she is with Betty's self deprecation.

It's not healthy or helpful for Betty to view herself this way and yes, it's a learned behavior that she needs to break desperately. But what the audience forgets is that Betty is tired. This is a woman that has tried to change things in her life and she always gets it wrong. Her first foray into love is a failure bc he used her, her attempts at dating are another failure, when she tries to change her look it's another failure; she put all her love and hope into Armando and then he betrays her.

She's been beaten down so much by those attempts, on top of society's view of her--that of course once in Cartagena she immediately feels out of place. Of course her first instinct, yet again, is to run back to the safe haven her dad has always provided for her.

'This isn't my world' which harkens back to Don Hermes telling her a similar thing, '...That's not for you'. It's not helpful and fuels Betty's fight or flight. And she's always picking flight.

This is Betty's first time away from home. This is the first time she has ever been away from her parents. That's why the airport scene with them is so dramatic. She's never slept a night away that's not in her house. A 'niña de la casa' no more. This is the opportunity that she's been waiting for but she doesn't see that yet amid the heartbreak.

Catalina has to guide her and essentially push her out of her comfort zone; and challenge her way of thinking and seeing the world and herself. Betty's always wanted changes in her life but she never knew that in order to embrace new things into your life, you have to be open about it mentally. You can't hide and internalize everything in your entire life. It's damaging to oneself.

In the middle of her trip she tells Nicolas, "No. I can't leave. I'm living something very important here. They (the board) can wait'. Betty is finally putting herself first and putting her foot down. Had they insisted on her presence at the beginning of her trip, she would have gone back.

Betty didn't just need to get away from Armando, she needed to get away from her family, specifically her dad. The internal and external changes that Betty goes through in Cartagena would not have been possible in Bogota. Not with Don Hermes breathing down her neck and Dona Julia flustered in the background. It wouldn't have happened as he wouldn't have allowed it.

Betty needed to leave the protective bubble of her family to learn that she can put herself together, that she can handle it and come back stronger.

Don Hermes' goodbye at the airport consists of giving Catalina instructions of things Betty isn't allowed to do (she doesn't drink, she doesn't party). He, again, refuses to see her as an adult woman. But he is forced to when she comes back from Cartagena:

He goes on to say, 'I feel like I'm lecturing another person, not my daughter'.

But that doesn't stop him as he lectures her into the night:

This is inadvertently what he's taught her to do tho--run away from a situation bc it became hard.

However Betty defends herself and says she came back to deal with issue at hand and take responsibility for her part in it. She's not proud of what she did.

'Don't think I did all of that and then went on vacation. I needed a change in my life'.

This is the change Betty truly needed, the one she's been waiting for and the one that sticks. She needed to learn to see the value in herself, realize that she's not the only one who has ever suffered and more importantly learning not to abandon herself as soon she gets hurt.

No one else was ever going to give her that. Not a relationship, not her family, not her friends. Those people (specifically her family) may love her but in certain instances their love and affection is a blind spot for them and can inadvertently hold her back bc of their insistence on protecting her from the world.

My personal feelings for Don Hermes aside, he loves his daughter and everything he does is well intentioned. He's not necessarily a bad person or bad father, but his over protection is suffocating and his refusal to see that his daughter is no longer a child plays a part in Betty's arc about wanting people to see her as she is--A person that is smart and capable and deserving of respect.

He plays a big part in why Betty does what she does, her inner rebelliousness, her frustrations come from the restrictions he imposes on her. He's not wrong about certain things but he's not 100% right about how he goes about them when it comes to Betty.

As a husband...well.

Anyway.

Betty becomes more independent Post Cartagena and her dad kind of slowly accepts it, especially when it's said in passing that she as a midnight curfew. He's still annoying, but that is simply his character trait.

If you made it this far, thank you. There is no prize except for the inner satisfaction of finishing this post.

[taki118]

Yakuza Fiance ep 5 Manga Comparison

After the overstuffed ep 4 ep 5 is a breath of fresh air still some context missed but not as badly, as always the differences are below, and I'm using fantranslations cause I'm lazy.

So thankfully they did keep the conversation I said the dropped last time. Re-ordering things is still dumb to me (I think the Renji talk would have been a better cold open) but at least its here. Though again there are some differences

For one they took out Yoshino noticing all the missed calls/messages from Kirishima which is a funny thing. The anime does make up for by actually having Yoshinos head move around the room as Kirishima points out weak points which is a nice gag that takes advantage of the medium (wish they would continue that)

(Not relevant but I think the box of sauces they show at the end of the scene is reference to an extra the manga had about Tokyo not having a bunch of sauces that Osaka has)

For once the anime adds in a scene that isn't ominous starring, giving us Yoshino looking at test results to flow into her fears about the actual exams, which is nice.

So its not a change here but due to pervious change the dialogue in the anime makes less sense. So as I said in ep 4 when Yoshino is talking to Kirishima about her dad he lets her in on the fact he's looked into her family so when Yoshino asks him here how much he knows about Tsubaki it makes sense. Because the anime dropped this bit the anime view has to assume that like Yoshino assumes he did this.

So here is a bit they dropped during the conversation after meeting Tsubaki that I feel like is a waste

Yoshino more explains what she means when she says Tsuabki is such a Kyoto girl, noting they went all the way to Ise once and just had food from a Kyoto restaurant chain. Its funny and sad to see it go but overall ok to drop.

This isn't like a dialogue change but a shot change kinda I havent mentioned it much but a lot of the shot choices the anime makes are odd but this one is a bit of a loss. When Yoshino looks at the sandals in the anime she just does a height comparision with Kirishima and its cute but

But its not as cute as Yoshino tugging Kirishima by the arm to look with her. Also it cuts that Tsubaki is starring at Kirishima who's obviously enjoying the attention.

The conversation Tsubaki has with Kirishima about his behavior towards Yoshino (which FYI is really important and I could talk more on) is pretty accurate a few reorderings but this was dropped and i just think its a shame

Its good insight, and an added visual to help bring everything across.

Anyway the lead into Tsuabki and Kirishimas "date" is much the same the big drop is this bit with Yoshino

It again shows that she is a lot smarter than she gives herself credit for, knowing what they'll talk about.

So the ferris wheel scene is pretty accurate but they left out a rather important bit where Kirishima is explaining his theory about Yoshino having never lost a kidney.

They don't show HOW Kirishima knew the scar wasn't quite right for kidney removal, in the anime the assumption is that he looked it up in the manga they note that he had a specialist take a look this specialist being one of his friends with benefits. This is important because this lets you in one WHY Kirishima is primarily with these women (and they are all women) all of them have something he needs, connections, information or skills that he does not have access to normally. He's not just sleeping around for the fun of it even Ayano the girl we see in ep 3, she's a model with boyfriend who has connections. This is subtle set up to pay offs down the line as Kirishimas actions are better explained. Its a rather important loss and really eye opening on re reads as things begin to click.

and this leads into another thing where technically its the same but subtleties are missed. The anime just has Tsubaki note this is an odd convo on a ferris wheel and questioning why Kirishima is so fixated on Yoshino, before Kirishima talks about the train ticket.

The manga however first has Kirishima state he wished he could be on the ferris wheel with Yoshino, which adds context to why Tsubaki asks her question. Then Kirishima hesitates, he thinks for a moment before bringing it up because he knows this information will get to Yoshino and he's weighing his options. It adds weight to what he says letting the reader know that this is indeed important. Also it removes a line where Kirishima explains he wasn't given any extra funds so he had to scrape it together another hint for later.

So the rest of the ep is pretty accurate, nothing I can really take too much note of, not as much as other episodes but what was dropped is pretty disappointing in many ways.

[javaelemental]

True Detective: Night Country, Ep. 6

Spoilers, y'all.

Okay, first thing's first. The single most important question about this entire season: How fuckin' many dead bodies has Rose gotten rid of? Because that was obviously not the first time she'd done that. It wasn't even the tenth time she'd done that. That stoned-ass old lady has put a lot of bodies in the ice, kids.

Somebody on reddit called that it was the cleaning ladies, LOL. Nicely done.

Also, loved that the cleaning ladies came and cleaned shit up. Loved the hell out of that. That whole thing, the vigilante justice by angry women with guns and an utter lack of fucks left to give? Delightful. 10/10, no notes.

So, this was one of those things that was written to be ambiguous on purpose. You can decide for yourself if Navarro was having visions or if she had the same mental illness that claimed her sister and mother, if she lived or died and came back as a ghost, if any of that fever dream that took up half the episode even happened like all that or if two gals were half frozen in a garage and hallucinating/dreaming or what.

The scientists doing the murder, and the way it went down... eh. Felt a bit much. All of 'em stabbing her to death? Clarke smothering her (and lying and/or delusional about it, the shithead). A bit much. Better if one of them had stabbed her in a fit of rage and the rest were complicit by keeping their mouths shut and going along with the cover up.

They were encouraging the mine to pollute more? Really? I think that's my main quibble about the actual murder mystery. I'll forgive the rest, but that feels a bit clumsy and contrived so that the mine could be involved.

Okay, I didn't hate the ending, I'm not mad about it, but it was a little weak. I really feel like this whole season could have used another pass by an editor, maybe another episode or two to flesh things out a bit and give it some room to breathe. Or, failing the extra episodes, maybe just a lighter touch on the supernatural vibes and a little more heft to the murder mystery.

I did like the vibe of the season, though. The incessant darkness was oppressive, and really screwed with your sense of time over the course of an episode.

Overall, I'd say it wasn't quite as solid as the first season, but it was easily as good as the third season, maybe better. It's been awhile since I saw season three.

Of course, it goes without saying that the cast was fantastic. They get the best people for this show, really.

But for real. How many bodies has Rose put in the ice? Is anyone keeping an eye on her? She was way too good at that.

(FYI, you're gonna want to stay out of the True Detective subreddit. They are having a whole entire temper tantrum meltdown over there.)

[sholmeser]

and fyi in this game edgeworth is repeatedly unaware of several different women’s outspoken attraction towards him, is repeatedly teased by those around him about this after which he STILL doesnt understand what anyone’s talking about, comments on the fragrant smell coming out of the flight attendants’ room on a plane and states that he has “no interest in what lies beyond”, says that he dislikes the smell of perfume, is called “pretty boy” by a bisexual man with his tits out every twenty seconds, specifically asks a cameraman to “call him” once shooting is finished so he can come back to where he is, is told by his old friend that he always knew they had a “special” relationship, frequently references phoenix’s impacts on his life and who he is as a person, and also he

[sugasiren]

☆ASTRO FACTS☆ ♈️

The Aries Woman & Her Real Power ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 Pt 1

**FYI - this blog contains mature content.

Time to clear up some misconceptions! And confirm some truths. So pull up your seat, grab a snack & prepare for TOTAL fucking honesty. 💯 While this post is primarily about Aries Suns, much of it can also be applied to other Aries placements in general. So take whatever resonates.

♈️ Aries Women are usually into more dominant, masculine types. They adore men who are stronger & smarter than them whom they can learn from. 👍While Aries Women are indeed fully capable of taking care of themselves, they love knowing that they can lean on and trust the man that they love if needed. They prefer reliable partners with backbone. They have NO respect for passive males, as they will DESTROY a weaker man's soul. 🔥 Eat him alive just like the large plant in the 'Little Shop of Horrors' movie. 🤣 It truly ain't pretty!

♈️ Contrary to popular LIES... many Aries Women are VERY feminine. They aren't doormats though! Nor the girl-next-door type. Ram Women typically embody the "Hot Girl" or the "Femme Fatale" brand of Femininity. ❤️‍🔥 She's often the Leader of the pack whom other women model themselves after & want to be like. Jayne Mansfield, Diana Ross & Mariah Carey - Aries Sun 🌞; Sade, Janet Jackson, Pam Anderson - Aries Moon 🌙; Marilyn Monroe & Liz Taylor - Aries Venus ⚘️. Are any of these women Tomboys?? FUCK NO! They are womanly, spicy & passionate beings. Learn the damn difference.

I sometimes find that Taurus, Cancer & Virgo Women can push the "masculine" stereotype onto Aries Women the most because they wish to be more like them in certain ways. 💯 For instance, most Aries Women aren't taking care of ANY man. But I've seen Taurus paying for men, Cancer mothering men & Virgo trying to train men into being obedient dogs! Add to that, Scorpio Women are often control freaks who insist on leading. Sag & Aquarius Women are rebels who often try to compete with & emasculate any man that they encounter. So who's actually lacking in Femininity here?? Not Aries, from what I see. 🤷🏾‍♀️ Lots of projection going on.

♈️ Aries Women are indeed outspoken. They are typically confident & in possession of strong boundaries. They are open & honest communicators who aren't afraid to ask for what they want. Most Men LOVE this about them and wish more women were like this! 🩷 Alternatively, deep inside of every Ram Woman is a sweet, adventurous little girl with a heart of GOLD who yearns to feel safe. ❤️‍🔥 A maiden wanting her protector! They're an astonishing blend of pure innocence like the Spring Goddess Persephone + the wit & warrior spirit of Goddess Athena. 🙌 There are sooo many interesting layers to the Aries Woman!! It's insanely fascinating. They are deeply selective with who they disclose all of this to, though. So they can be misunderstood at times.

♈️ Aries Women are Masters of keeping men ON THEIR TOES in a healthy way. They like men and men adore them. 👌 They highly value autonomy, so they extend that to their partners and give them breathing room. They inspire men to be better, more powerful versions of themselves. They do have tempers!! But they don't hold grudges and their sex more than makes up for the trouble. 😺 They are playful and NEVER boring! How TF do you think we keep attracting the best of the best?? Not by being a Basic Bitch, my friends. 🤣

♈️ According to Marriage Statistics: Aries Women have the longest-lasting marriages with Leo Men, Sagittarius Men, Aquarius Men & Aries Men. ⚘️⚘️ After that, we also have solid odds with Capricorn & Taurus Men. We most often divorce Virgo, Gemini & Libra Men which makes TOTAL sense to me. Not surprised! Aries Women do not enjoy flaky and/or nitpicky partners.

♈️ Aries Women are just as sensitive & intuitive as Cancers in certain ways - we just follow our GUT instincts more than the emotions of our heart. 🔥 We're rarely wrong about someone's character. We bully the bullies! And *if* we care about you, we have your back until the very end. But if you betray us?? You will go from feeling like the most special person in the world... to the most worthless piece of gum scraping off the bottom of our shoe as we walk away from you FOREVER. 🙌 Do not play with us!! Don't play yourself by losing the best prize you'll ever have.

That's all for now, darlings. Happy Aries Season!! ♈️ And thanks so very much for all of the new follows, shares & support!

[strawberrypinky]

all your loving (all or nothing) pt. 2 - a. sharp x reader

for the longest time, aesop sharp was absolutely certain that he must have eradicated an entire civilisation in his past life, as there was no other possible explanation for the sheer torture in found himself in. but as the months went on and the weather became warmer, and the flowers were blooming again, he found himself believing that reprieve was possible – even for someone like him.

or: aesop sharp is an idiot in love with a breeding kink and this escalated in ways i can never speak of – part two baby!

A/N: Part Two of what was supposed to be a single, short and smutty one shot of my recent fictional obsession: Professor Sharp. Part two is where the breeding kink 'finally' hits – apologies in advance. I haven't written smut in quite a while and I shockingly have never published any before. The depravity was strong with this one and I sincerely hope my mother never finds this. I may be in my twenties but she'd still ship me off to a convent if she did.

Please remember that this takes place during Victorian Times – Women were not nearly as educated as we are today on Sex and Pleasure. MC is a virgin – so she might come off as slightly naive/dumb at times. It's all consensual tho, don't worry.

Thank you again to @legacygirlingreen for enabling me & being my number one supporter on the road to hell. I couldn't have done this without you (seriously, you were a saint) 🤪💚 This one is for you 💚

To everyone reading this; I have never written 'x Reader' before, so please give me some grace for trying 🙏🏻 This was a first. Part Two is the 'final' (as if this wasn't supposed to be a one shot either way lol) - however if someone enables me enough, part three is always a possibility. That said; please don't enable me 💀

Onwards now; I have promised @fizzlewick a Regency/Pride and Prejudice AU! with our favourite Potions Professor as Mr. Darcy.

FYI: (Y/N) - Your Name (Y/L/N) - Your Last Name (Y/E/C) - Your Eye Colour (Y/H/C) - Your Hair Colour

CW (here we go): Fluff, Romance, Idiots in Love, Miscommunication, Pining, Age Difference (Aged up Main Character), Canon Divergence (bc I can't stand to kill Fig off), Spoiler Alert for Hogwarts Legacy, Implied Hufflepuff MC (not specified), Porn with Plot, Victorian attitudes towards Sex, Smut (18+, MDNI - lord, forgive me): Loss of Virginity, Breeding Kink, Impregnation, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Size Kink, Oral Sex (fem receiving), Cockwarming, Accidental Virginity Kink

Word Count (Part 2): 15.5k (again - this escalated)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48482581/chapters/123361243

Part One: Click here

For the longest time, Aesop Sharp was absolutely certain that he must have eradicated an entire civilisation in his past life, as there was no other possible explanation for the sheer torture in found himself in. But as the months went on and the weather became warmer, and the flowers were blooming again, he found himself believing that reprieve was possible even for someone like him.

She loved him. 

She. Loved. HIM. 

It was a mantra that he found himself repeating over and over again, never quite believing that this wasn't some sick and twisted dream he would wake up from. But it wasn't a dream, and the extraordinary woman he had fallen in love with, had fallen for him too. He fell asleep with her in his arms every night since that night, his room practically vacant, only for him to return to in the early morning to get dressed and prepare himself for the day ahead, and each morning he fell in love all over again – her face aglow in the morning light. It was bliss. Pure and delicious bliss. 

They had kept their newfound romance largely private, restricted to lingering touches when nobody could see and the small reprieve her hut could offer, though Aesop suspected that their colleagues knew. At the very least, they presumed their dynamic had shifted, even if they did not know to which extent. His love hadn't even told Eleazar, which surprised Aesop, given that the man truly was like a father to her (and a much better one at that, too), but it made their love all the more sacred. If ever Aesop paid Dinah any attention over dinner, he could spot her knowing smirk, carefully hidden behind her goblet, but it was there even if she never outright said anything. 

His mood had much improved, no longer weighed down by the constant nagging feeling of unrequited love and the lingering 'What if?' – her smile and scent no longer torturous but a source of comfort and longing. He still wondered what she saw in him, but the devotion she looked at him with let him believe that this could be forever. Selfishly he let himself dream of days in the English countryside, hidden away in cottages from the prying eyes of the rest of the world, but if selfishness was what this yearning was, Aesop would let himself be a greedy glutton, for he never wished to miss her presence in his life again.

"You think too much," she mumbled, curled into his chest as the sun was slowly starting to rise on the horizon, filling her hut with a glowing orange light.  

"I think too much?" he smiled down at her, her eyes still closed in bliss, his masculine scent of firewhiskey and sandalwood enveloping her senses. He had heard that one before. 

"Mhm," she hummed, opening her tired eyes to look up at his, his hair still dishevelled and unkempt. "I can almost hear your brooding." 

"Apologies, my lady," he jested. "I will be careful to not disturb your beauty sleep any further."

"I will hold you to it", she sighed, falling into his warm embrace, wholly content. "A gentleman should stay true to his word."

"I'm hardly a gentleman," Aesop chuckled lowly. "For if I was, I would not be in your bed without a ring on your finger and a shared last name."

He could see a blush spreading on her cheeks, a timid look of amusement gracing her gentle features. "Perhaps not," she expressed, "but I recall you calling yourself my husband a while ago." 

"To defend your honour," the potions master retorted lowly, still enraged whenever someone brought up her unfortunate family. Her father was as equally exasperating as Phineas Black – a herculean task in Aesop's mind, and he had only met the guy for but a single moment.

"How gallant of you," (Y/N) snickered, peering up at him through her eyelashes. "I have been irredeemable in his eyes the very second I boarded the carriage to Hogwarts."  

"Hm..." Aesop mumbled, pushing a stray hair behind her ear, feeling the soft lock between his calloused fingers. "Forgive my sharp tongue, but I do not believe I give a single fuck as to what that poor excuse of a man thinks. And neither should you, my love." 

"Aesop Cyril Sharp!" his beloved gasped, accompanied by a light slap on his chest. "What a poor choice of words in front of a lady."

Aesop's chest rumbled with laughter, his arms tightening around (Y/N) as she grinned up at him, his heart jumping with glee. They held each other, content as the world around them slowly awoke from its slumber – a new day signalling its commencement. It was a moment of serenity, a place nobody but them existed before they would soon go about their days again, following their routines as they needed to, sharing the glances of secret lovers before their rather clandestine encounters at night would reunite them once more – and Aesop was already counting down the hours, waiting until his love was in his arms again. 

"You'll have to sneak back to the castle soon," the young woman in his arms sighed, a dejected pout on her lips. 

"I feel like a whippersnapper," Aesop groaned. "Surreptitiously wandering about the grounds." 

She giggled gleefully again, pressing herself into his chest. "You are my whippersnapper then." 

Aesop's heart jumped again, overfilling with love and boastful pride at the determinative she had used— My whippersnapper.

"Indeed I am," he sighed contently, pressing a kiss atop her head, inhaling her saccharine scent as her hair tickled his nose. 

Wistfully Aesop rose from his comforting and warm position on the bed, hissing as his leg protested the movement. Some days it hurt worse than others – today looked to be a rather grim day, even if the days had become warmer again. She was at his side in a second, her arms wrapped around his middle in comfort. 

"Do you need me to get you your potion? Or anything else?"

"No," Aesop pressed out, clenching his teeth for a second before he released a shuddering breath, massaging his leg with disdain. He felt as if a perfectly fine morning had been ruined – another reminder that he was wholly inadequate when the woman behind him was not. She only hummed, letting her nimble small hands trace his arms in a soothing motion before pressing a kiss at the nape of his neck. He stood up with careful steps after a while, avoiding too much pressure on his blasted leg. 

As he swiftly exchanged his nightshirt for the suit he had worn yesterday, he could hear (Y/N) bustling in the main room of her hut, likely preparing a cup of tea for him as she usually did before he left. The fragrant aroma of Earl Grey fills his nose; the cup appearing in front of him with a tiredly smiling (Y/N) as he gratefully took the cup from her, perfectly warm and not too hot. She traced patterns on his arm as he greedily drank from the cup, the warmth filling his body and providing a strange relief to his leg, reducing the pain to a bearable thrumming.

"Did you put something in here?" Aesop asked, his eyebrow raised. 

"Perhaps," she tilted her head with a sly grin. "Did it help?"

"It...did," He avowed, placing the cup on the nightstand before pulling her into his arms. 

"Whenever I had a second to spare, I tried to brew on my own," her fingertips still danced over his arms. "You do not have to do this alone anymore, Aesop."

"I do not need your pity," he frowned, though he kept his arms around her waist in a protective embrace. Humiliation coursed through him at her admittance – he was incomplete, crippled. Whatever did she want with him? Surely someone more capable would be able to give her much more, even if the mere thought of her in the arms of someone else asphyxiated him like –

"I know you do not," she smiled, interrupting his train of thought. "Would you let me suffer if I were in pain from a curse?"

"Of course not," Aesop brisked, incensed at the mere thought. "I would not want you suffering needlessly." 

"Then do not expect me to sit by idly for you," she whispered, pulling him down by the lapel of his coat. "My foolish whippersnapper." 

His lips met hers with a pleased hum, his beard scratching her soft skin, undoubtedly leaving a slight burn.

Perhaps Aesop could truly be selfish – because if the gods above blessed him with the celestial woman in his arms, nothing but believing that reprieve was possible for someone like him was imaginable. 

When the weather got even warmer, and June approached them, final exams were soon to be held – as they were every year. Aesop and (Y/N) found themselves busier than ever; their time spent together dwindled to a minimum, which left Aesop rather frustrated most days. More often than not, Aesop had to spend his nights preparing odd brews his students would need to identify, never mind the endless amounts of Invigoration and Calming Draughts Madam Blainey requested at an alarming rate. In any case, Aesop felt like he was drowning in work – a common occurrence towards the end of the school – so it was a welcome distraction when he was forced to leave the dungeons for just a day, even if the trip he needed to take was all but a requirement for him to continue his brewing in the first place.

Aesop's potion supplies were dwindling at a quick pace, and neither his love nor Mirabel were able to keep up with the demand; thus, he found himself forced to take a trip to Feldcroft. Bernard Ndiaye was able to provide Aesop with a few of the missing ingredients, so on a sunny Saturday afternoon, his love and he took the short trip to Feldcroft, a village she had unfortunately only gotten to know under less than cheerful circumstances. Ever since she had successfully fought Ranrok and his rebellion, the hamlet, which had nearly been in ruins once, had been rebuilt and was now a flourishing and quaint place filled with life and many small families. 

"I used to think this place was right out of a storybook," she chirped next to him, their arms intertwined as they walked through the Scottish Highlands, approaching Feldcroft with idle steps. The warm weather and the potion (Y/N) had brewed provided enough alleviation for Aesop to promenade for a short while – it was not a cure, nor a long-term solution to his predicament, but like their newfound romance, it was a new dawn.

"Is that so?" Aesop asked, looking down at her. "Well, they certainly owe you for their...liberation." 

"I can hardly take all the credit," she waved him off, rosy blush on her cheeks. "They have done exceptionally well ever since Ranrok's loyalists have all but fled." 

"Yes, well, and who is to credit for that? Remind me?" 

"I do not know what you are talking about?" she grinned at him now, aware of how much her stories from her fifth year rattled him. Or, in Aesop's words, how much they would 'turn him grey before his time'. 

"I believe the Order of Merlin that has been bestowed upon your name would beg to differ," he grunted. 

"And it is rotting away in Eleazar's home – I have washed my hands of it a long time ago."

"Proudly displayed, no doubt." 

"On the mantle of the fireplace," she affirmed with a desolate groan. "I have tried to convince him to burn it – his efforts have been largely in vain." 

"He is exceptionally proud of you," Aesop explained with newfound kindness. "After Miriam died, he was... in a rather dark place. The rest of us staff were worried, which is why Matilda persuaded Black to send Eleazar your way when the Book spat out your name."

"Oh," she mumbled. "I never knew." 

"You do know they never had children. To him, you are like his own." 

"As he is like my father," she nodded absentmindedly. "I owe everything to him." 

"A notion I'm confident he shares. So let him display that blasted Order – you are his greatest joy." 

She did not argue with him; a slight nod was her only agreement. Aesop once again noticed how much smaller than him she was; the top of her head did not even reach his shoulders. In his mind, she fit into his side like a perfect puzzle piece.

Ndiaye now had a small shop instead the cart (Y/N) remembered from years ago, the place flourishing with the various plants and beast products that littered the business. Ndiaye, much like everyone else, recognised (Y/N) immediately, and Aesop was yet another step closer to grey hair upon hearing the story of how she recklessly risked her life – all for two crates of Chomping Cabbages. Mirabel would have been proud; Aesop was convinced of it.

When they exited his shop, by-products in hand and arms intertwined again, they were intercepted by none other than Sebastian Sallow himself. 

"(Y/N)? Professor Sharp?!" the former Slytherin resident troublemaker exclaimed, bewildered, jogging up to the trio with large steps. His eyes did not leave their joined arms – looking at the couple like they had grown an extra head. He had grown up, no longer a chubby-faced teenager but a man with a sharp jawline, a full beard and broad shoulders; the only boyish thing remaining his flocculant and unkempt hair. Aesop still towered over him, unsurprisingly. He was exceptionally tall, after all.

"Sebastian!" his love exclaimed, freeing herself from Aesop's side to happily hug her closest friend – even if she seemed slightly surprised to see him. "What are you doing here? I thought you had moved to the Cotswolds?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Sebastian teased with a sly grin, his eyes going back and forth between Aesop and her. "But truthfully, we're here because Anne wanted to meet Estelle." 

'We're'? 'Estelle'? Aesop thought, befuddled – a sentiment his paramour did not share. 

"Oh, I am so sorry I haven't come to visit!" she apologised profusely. "But Exams have been utterly crazy – we've hardly had any time to do much aside from grading and preparing."

Sebastian only waved her off with a content smile. "Don't fret – we used the time to acclimate to our lives now."

"I can only imagine," she chuckled. "Who would have thought? You, Mr Capital R Rake, Sebastian Sallow, would be the first of our group of misfits to marry and father a child?"

Ah, so this was what their conversation had been about. Of course – Aesop remembered now. (Y/N) had been quite affronted, if not downright disappointed, when Sebastian had kept his marriage and impending fatherhood a secret for months. When he timely announced the birth of his daughter, a child they had named Estelle, his love was over the moon for him and his wife and wouldn't stop talking about visiting the two. 

Sebastian chuckled, his smile proud as he puffed out his chest. "Not me, that I'm sure of. Would you like to meet her? I'm confident Megan wouldn't mind." 

"I would love to," she agreed, turning around to face Aesop. "Would you mind?" 

"No, of course not," Aesop shook his head. "Shall I head back to the castle then?"

"Such a silly man," she giggled, grabbing his hand and masterfully ignoring the comically wide-eyed stare of Sebastian. "You must beat Ominis at his game of being the favourite uncle." 

"When did this happen?!" he finally asked, looking as if he were ready to burst. 

"February," (Y/N) admitted bashfully, wrapping her arm around Aesop's with a rosy smile. "We've been keeping it under our hats mostly."

"And you were mad I kept my marriage a secret?!" Sebastian sounded affronted, evidently not believing what he was witnessing.

"That's different. We're courting. Unlike someone here, I would not keep my marriage or motherhood a secret." 

"That's not – Merlin, he's our old potions professor." 

"I may be handicapped, Mr Sallow, but I can assure you, I can hear quite well," Aesop interjected, though he could not deny the happiness that surged in his heart upon his sweetheart admitting that they were courting to one of her dearest friends. She wasn't ashamed of him.

"We are colleagues, Sebastian. Equals," (Y/N) added, her tone leaving no room for any argument to be made. "In any case, you should be showing me, my niece, right now."

"This isn't over," Sebastian mumbled as he led them towards his aged childhood home, which his twin had settled in with her own partner, a travelling merchant from a nearby hamlet. 

Aesop hadn't seen Anne Sallow for years, not since she had been cursed. He remembered her to be the ringleader of trouble before she left Hogwarts due to her unfortunate ailment, and while she had never found a cure for it, (Y/N) ending the reign of terror and life of Victor Rookwood – the man who had cursed her – enabled her to live a without day to day debilitating pain.

She was just as stunned as Sebastian had been upon hearing of their relationship, but she still chatted with her former professor, even if the conversation was entirely awkward. Aesop endured for her sake mostly, and it was worth it – nothing would ever make him forget the sheer and utter joy on his love's face when she held her tiny 'niece' in her arms.

Aesop was astonished at how such a wee little thing was able to tear such a starstruck and enchanted smile from a person – he was sure (Y/N) had never smiled as big. He watched as she cooed over little Estelle, her smile blinding as she cradled the tiny thing in her arms, carefully supporting her back and neck. She looked like she had done this a million times, positively natural, and Aesop didn't know whether it was her or him, but his mind was suddenly filled with pictures of her doing precisely this with their kids. When he was younger, he hadn't ever thought of kids, perhaps only as a natural consequence of marriage and marital relations and after his accident, he had written the prospect off entirely. No woman wanted a cripple, much less one as a father to possible children. Now, though, he had a woman who wanted him just as much as he wanted her, and she was young and had even admitted to wanting children. Perhaps they were a possibility after all?

"Aesop?" his beloved turned her attention towards him. "Isn't she just precious?" 

"Certainly," Aesop agreed though he did not mean the baby – which was bound to be precious nonetheless. He could not help the smirk that graced his face upon catching Sebastian Sallow's indignant expression. 

"You should hold her too," Megan, Sebastian's wife, suddenly suggested, a curious glance on her face. 

"I really think I shouldn't," he chuckled upon seeing Sebastian Sallow's face contort strangely. Poor lad would likely never get used to it. 

"No, please do," Megan, the wife of Sallow, smiled at him. "Ignore my husband - he's a little thickheaded." 

"A little?!" Anne and (Y/N) giggled in unison, promptly ignoring the sound of indignance Sebastian let out. 

"Excuse me for being confused over this...," he waved around wildly with his hands, "situation." 

"Oh, please. Get over it," Megan rolled her eyes, a teasing grin on her face. "Besides, if our daughter is anything like us, having teachers in her corner will be a godsend when she inevitably gets into trouble at Hogwarts."

"Oh, so this is where it's coming from," Aesop shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't play favourites." 

"You will," Megan winked conspiratorially, beckoning him to introduce little Estelle. With her delicate arms and gentle touch, (Y/N) placed the little girl in his arms, smiling at him as he held her; though he was not quite as natural as she was, the tiny thing held awkwardly in his arms. The baby was asleep, so he couldn't view her eyes, but if he had to, Aesop reckoned Estelle resembled her father far more than she did her mother. It made him stop and think about what his children would look like, and instantly, he wished, prayed, they would look like her.  

"Not so bad after all, am I right, Bash?" Megan playfully jested, watching the disdain on her husband's face. "Even if our daughter looks positively tiny in those arms."

"She is tiny," Sebastian remarked. "And in any case, this is weird. (Y/N) you do know I thought him to be a git?"

"Sebastian!" Megan and (Y/N) gasped simultaneously, though Aesop could only snort in amusement. 

"I wholeheartedly believed you to be one of my more promising students, Mister Sallow," Aesop admitted, his eyebrow raised as Sebastian looked at him with surprise. "If you had applied yourself a little more instead of recklessly breaking the rules and surging into things without even considering any consequence, I might have been less...stern with you." 

"I do not surge into things without considering the consequences," Sebastian retorted with affronted indignance – the woman in the room now chortling with mirth. 

"Oh no," Megan giggled. "That is precisely why you were cursed in that blasted tomb of the two lovers and thus experienced...ehem... heightened...carnal pleasure."

If Aesop had been a man to blush, he likely would have. Sebastian Sallow undoubtedly was. His love was, too, averting her gaze from anyone and anything – a ferocious blush on her cheeks. 

"That was one time," he yapped, his arms crossed in front of him.

"Of course," Megan rolled her eyes, turning her attention to the woman beside her. "He was ready to deflower me in that very same tomb. We undoubtedly have to devise a sweeter story about our first meeting if Estelle ever asks." 

"Agreed," Sebastian cleared his throat.

"That's really Sebastian, though," his love chuckled, blush still on her cheeks as she focused on the little babe in Aesop's arms, gently stroking her head in a motherly fashion. "I, for one, can recall a very similar event involving a goblin mine."

Aesop was certain his old heart would give out soon, for this was bound to be yet another tale of her recklessly, foolishly risking her life. She had an affinity for it, no doubt. The words 'goblin mine' were enough to fill him with terror and astonishment – He did not understand how she had survived this long. 

"Do I want to know?" Aesop asked with a groan, eliciting a giggle from her. 

"No," she shook her head with a wink. "No, you really don't."

"I, for one, agree," Sebastian shuddered. "I am not keen on getting slaughtered by an ex-auror today." 

"Oh, Aesop is not that sinister," his love giggled.

"Oh no, I am," Aesop interjected with a threatening smile. "I may have been out of the field for over a decade, but best believe I can still make it look like an accident. I promised your...father," the word spat from his tongue, "as much."

"Your father?" Sebastian asked, his tone worried and, dare Aesop say, alarmed? "What..."

"I don't wish to talk about it," (Y/N) waved him off hurriedly. "Aesop dealt with him more than I did."

"Did he now?" Sebastian mused, a thoughtful look on his face. Suddenly he regarded Aesop with a little less disdain and horror.

Aesop did not count the minutes or hours they stayed at the former Sallow residence. It had been a pleasant change from the frenzied and fully engulfing pre-examination environment at the castle, the atmosphere joyful with little Estelle, even when she had briefly awoken and promptly shown off her impressively large lung. When he and his love were finally leaving, the sun was setting on the horizon, casting a beautifully orange glow over the Scottish Highlands, a warm summer breeze carrying the slightly salty air from the sea.

"Sharp?" Sebastian Sallow lowly called out to him as Megan and (Y/N) said their goodbyes, the latter cooing at the tiny baby in Megan's arms, seemingly not wishing to part from her at all. 

"Yes?" Aesop sighed, his leg starting to ache and his mood souring as he remembered how much he would have to brew throughout the night.

"Did you truly meet her father?"

Aesop was surprised, though he tried not to let it show. Sebastian had been her friend for many years; perhaps he knew more than Aesop did, the issue of her father still one she avoided most days – not even considering the simple fact that she saw Eleazar as hers in any case. 

"We did," he affirmed with a curt nod. "Dratted meater if you'd ask me."

"I can't say I ever had the displeasure of meeting the man," Sebastian scoffed. "But if you truly took care of him in her place, then...I suppose I should thank you.

Aesop only raised his eyebrow.

"She is akin to family for me and wholly responsible for me standing here at all. For being able to have a family – my daughter. What I am trying to convey, I suppose, is please take care of her." 

"You have my word." 

A week passed and then another, both in a similar manner as the others before had; their time largely spent apart during the days as they prepared their students for their final exams and OWLs and NEWTS. Yet when the sun had gone down, and the stars were glittering like a million diamonds over the castle, Aesop found himself precisely where he longed to be: in her home, her in his arms or next to him on the comfortable armchairs, the world around them away far enough for just a while. When in her hut, surrounded by warmth and the feeling of 'home', his thoughts cleared miraculously, no longer filled with exams and potions and students that likely would never achieve anything beyond a 'poor'. 

Megan Sallow had, as Aesop continued to realise, been right: Little Estelle Sallow would enable him to play favourites – if he was still a Professor by then, of course. More notably, though, seeing his love hold the small child and holding her himself filled him with more and more dreams and desires for his own children, the dreams of days hidden in the English countryside now vividly brighter as tiny feet ran around his mind endlessly echoing as if he were stuck in an everlasting pensive memory. It was ludicrous, foolish even – just a mere year ago, Aesop had believed himself to be resigned to forever Bachelorhood, his fate of living alone and forlorn for the rest of his days not likely to ever change. But it had – for fate had steered a most exquisite and extraordinary woman on his path, and perhaps, just perhaps, she would be inclined to share more than just a life with him. 

The very picture of her holding little Estelle was etched into his mind, creating a desire he hadn't thought possible. Aesop did not understand how something so small could hold such power over him. But it did. He wondered if – 

"Sickle for your thoughts?" his lover's sweet voice pulled him from his thoughts as she placed her lesson plans for the following week on the small coffee table before she stood up and walked to her small stove.

"I was just reminiscing," he answered truthfully.

"Oh?" She looked at him with her soft gaze, her head titled in genuine interest. "What of?" 

"Estelle," Aesop sighed. "I fear her mother may be right, and I will be playing favourites in a few years. Do not let Sallow know I said that, though." 

"We both will," she chuckled, preparing another kettle to make more tea, the warm light of the fireplace painting her in an ethereal glow. Though the summer was comfortably mild, the evenings and nights still got cold; thus, Aesop was thankful she continued to light the fireplace. "She was just a darling little thing."

"Not as adorable as ours would be," Aesop let slip out, his tone even as he was only half joking as the thought continued manifesting in his mind. Their children would be more adorable - Aesop was sure of it. Especially because they would be hers – tiny, perfect replicas of her, with her wonderfully bright and loving eyes, her warm persona and exceptional talent. 

"I am not certain where this is coming from all of a sudden, but," she shook her head. "You are not half as shocking as you think you are," giggling quietly as she helped herself to another cup of tea, the fragrant, flowery aroma of rooibos filling the space.

"Oh?" Aesop couldn't help but raise his eyebrow as he watched her. Her beautiful hair was shimmering in the low light of her cabin, her (Y/H/C) waves cascading down her shoulders just like Aesop adored, a shift from the elaborate updos and styles she commonly wore – her hair soft and full, likely smelling of citrus and hyacinth, her skin tingling with spring. In short: She was utterly irresistible.

He could almost feel his manhood straining against his breeches, observing her hum lowly as her hips swayed in an unfamiliar rhythm, her face content, complete with a dainty smile. The atmosphere felt domestic, and Aesop found himself pulled into visions of the English countryside again, the images becoming more vivid with each second that time passed them by. He wanted, needed, more.

"Your bark is far worse than your bite," she continued, her tone teasing as she shot him a grin before returning her attention to the stove.

Is that what she truly believed? That his bark was worse than his bite? Had she forgotten that he had been an Auror? That, realistically, he could crush her tiny body between two fingers?

Before Aesop could stop himself, he had risen from his position in front of the fireplace, stalking toward her like a predator seeking its prey – a fitting description in Aesop's mind. She did not notice him, and it was far too easy for him to slowly wrap his arms around her tiny waist and pull himself against her. He could feel her warm body tense below his fingers, her breath hitching as he towered over her. His hair fanned out against her cheeks when he leaned forward, his mouth brushing against her ear. Goosebumps were rising on her body, and he could make out the slightest shiver the closer he leaned into her.

He revelled in the way her body responded to his. So pliant. So... submissive. 

"I can assure you, my love," he breathed out against her ear, "that my bite is just as bad." 

An audible gasp escaped her as she fidgetted in his arms and turned around, though he kept his arms tightly locked around her waist – trapping her between the stove and himself. She stared up at him, her (Y/E/C) eyes wide as they met his blown-out pupils that bore into hers.

"A-Aesop," she stuttered out. He watched as her cheeks turned rosy, her mouth slightly open. Though their touches had lingered over the past weeks, and their nights had been spent in the embrace of one another, Aesop hadn't been particularly bold or forthcoming beyond precisely that – their romance sweet and innocent and virtuous. He knew of her inexperience, but ever so carefully, he moved his hand upwards, his touch a mere ghost against her body before reaching her face and cupping her chin below his finger. His thumb moved against her lips. They were plump and soft - as was the rest of her. 

His self-control was slipping, his manhood straining, and he felt like a juvenile delinquent. Aesop didn't want or ask for many things in life, but at this moment, he desired her.

"Tell me, Y/N," he breathed out, "Do you truly believe that yourself?" 

"I-"

His hands moved back to her hips, his hold somewhere between a tight grip and a gentle caress. He wanted to caress her, hold her, love her. And he was unable to suppress his desires any longer. He pressed his front against hers, letting her feel what she did to him, her audible gasp and rosy cheeks sending another jolt down his spine. Her cheeks were burning deliciously, and she simply stared at him. 

"Aesop," she whimpered helplessly. He was all-consuming. His deliciously musky scent of sandalwood and firewhiskey enveloped her until all her senses were inhabited by him and only him. His body surrounded her, and the warmth he emitted was nearly suffocating, but it was Aesop, after all. 

Aesop.

The same man she had grown to love as much as she had. A man she would entrust her entire life with, knowing that he would do the same. A man who loved her wholeheartedly by his own admittance, who had defended her honour against a man he had never known when she had not even been his. His beard was rough against her cheeks, his head slowly moving down as he pressed feather-light kisses on her jaw and neck. He deeply inhaled her scent, never getting enough, relishing in the slight tremors that shook his love and the whimpers that fell from her lips. 

"My love," he mumbled as he continued to kiss her neck, bent down awkwardly to her much smaller height and frame, caressing her sides as he held her close. "You would be the most stunning mother." His hands found her hips, one of them reaching to carefully touch her lower stomach, the very place that would swell with their children, where she would safely carry them until they were ready to come earthside. His voice was gentle, scarcely above a whisper, yet its rough rumbling sound resonated within the air. 

"Is that something you could wish for?" he mumbled, looking at her before he placed his lips upon hers, savouring her saccharine taste as they moved in sync; him much more dominating. "For me to make you a mother?" 

Her eyes bulged, looking at him, shell-shocked with her mouth still open. "Ae-Aesop," she stuttered lowly, "where is this coming from?" 

He smirked at her, his caramel eyes meeting hers with a piercing gaze – a heated shiver tumbling down her spine. "I have not stopped thinking about it ever since you have held Estelle. You were captivating." 

His lips met hers again, a blazing fire of desire and want behind the kiss that swallowed her whole. 

"Aesop we," she gasped. "We can't. We're not even wedded." 

He couldn't help the laugh that escaped his mouth. If this was her only problem, it could easily be rectified. More so, Aesop wanted to rectify it. "You think I would want to fuck my children into some random woman?" His voice was several tones deeper, still pressed into her as she took in his unusually forthright and vulgar words with wide eyes. "If it were up to me, my love, we could be married on the morrow and expedite our wedding night." 

"Y-you – you want to marry me?"

"Let me reiterate," Aesop whispered against her lips. "I will not fuck my children into anyone but my wife. Anything you yearn for, it's yours." 

He observed her face carefully – meticulously. His love wore her heart on her sleeve, conflicting emotions clouding her features. This was her decision and hers alone; she would carry and birth their children, after all. Just before he could pull away and express to her that she had all the time in the world that she needed, her quiet, breathless voice reached his.

"Will it...hurt?" she asked with uncertainty, biting her lip as she stared up into Aesop's eyes. She knew very little of marital relations, her mother telling her just enough to understand what needed to happen for her to conceive. Beasts were luckily quite the same, but in any case, the act did not sound or seem pleasant – but for Aesop and a chance at a family with him, she could endure.

"For a second," he spoke truthfully. "Just a second." 

"Okay," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders, letting him place his lips against hers. His mouth felt dominating, his beard coarse against her soft skin, lightly distracting her from his manhood pressing into her lower stomach. Arousal, excitement, anxiousness... they coursed through her as she let herself be enveloped and cared for by him. 

Aesop slowly guided her towards the bedroom, his lips never leaving hers, leaving him in a rather awkward position bent down to her height with his leg thrumming away lowly, but the sheer yearning was enough to make him forget the lingering pain, his sense zeroing in on her and the way her body felt beneath his fingertips. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her body flush against his as he kept pressing himself into her, his manhood finding purchase and a torturous relief; before, reluctantly, he moved his lips from hers, both of them breathing deeply.

Ever so carefully, with Aesop's eyes never leaving hers, his fingers moved to her front, carefully unbuttoning her bodice, her chest rapidly moving up and down.  

"You do not have to lay with me if you don't wish to," Aesop mumbled, his hands ceasing their careful administrations though he held them at her chest.

"I want to," she breathed out, her voice barely above a whisper. "I trust you."

Aesop nodded with a smile, leaning in to kiss her again as his hands removed her bodice, his hands moving around her waist again to carefully unwrap her overskirt; before long, the delicate fabric joined her bodice on the floor, leaving her in her corset and bloomers. Their lips moved in unison, passionately filling his and her soul before they became one, and Aesop could feel her delicate, diminutive hands working to liberate him of his vest. He smiled contently into the kiss, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest at her rather ungainly movements of opening the buttons but allowing her to feel him just as he felt her. Aesop's hand trailed a line against the bone of her hip, his other hand holding her waist steady as the warmth of her body slowly seeped through the thick material of the corset. Pulling away, Aesop could see the peak of her breasts pressing against the corset, barely spilling over – teasing him deliciously. 

Her delicate hands tugged at his vest before Aesop let it fall to the ground alongside her garb, leaving him in his breeches and a cotton blouse, some chest hair peeking through at the top. She smiled at him – shyly, nervously, but Aesop could not glimpse a flicker of uncertainty. Carefully, he reached around her, ably loosening the laces of her corset, before the torturous thing joined the rest of her garments and his vest on the floor. She gasped, a sudden sensation of vulnerability as Aesop saw her chest in all its glory, her peaks hardening against the sudden air that kissed them in a welcoming embrace. Before she could cover herself, Aesop tenderly grabbed her wrists, holding them in his much larger hands, his eyes never leaving hers – warm and comforting. 

"You are exquisite," he whispered, pulling her close. His larger body enveloped hers, her peaks chafing against the cotton with delicious friction before he kissed her fervently again, his hands roaming across her body as hers found his waist. 

Though his body had significantly changed ever since he had left the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Aesop remained lean and well-muscled, his shoulders still broad and strong – the assertive air around him never leaving. She could feel it between her fingertips, his shirt leaving little to the imagination as it clung to his body like a second skin. 

She gasped into him when his hands suddenly touched her breasts, his hands fondling, fondling them gently, effortlessly cupping them in his large hands. Two fingers slowly swirled around her hardened peaks, teasing her with a gentle, loving caress, swallowing her soft moans as he put forth all his longing and desire into the kiss. Against his mouth, Aesop could feel her soft whining; his manhood twitching as desire unlike he's ever felt before rushing through him.

"Get on the bed," Aesop growled lowly, eyes half-lidded in eros. She pulled away shakily, her eyes trained on him as he guided her towards the bed, letting herself lower down on the mattress when the back of her knees met the edge. Aesop stepped closer, looking down at her with an untamed gaze that sent shivers of craving and a newfound feeling she couldn't describe through her body. His fingers trailed below her chin, tilting it up slightly as he took her in. He felt like a young gentleman again, brimming with ferocious, carnal appetite when he had scarcely even touched her yet. Merlin knew he needed to be gentle – her inexperience and what Aesop suspected was a grand dearth of knowledge were bound to make this…interesting enough.

"And you are entirely certain you want this?" his voice unrecognisable.

"Yes," she whimpered, her nerves alight. For so long, it had been ingrained into her that she was not to lay with a man unless he was her husband, her very existence at Hogwarts having brought shame upon her family. And yet, as Aesop's presence enveloped her, she could not deny herself the sheer wanting and craving with the lasciviousness the moment brought. 

He moved to his knees, his leg thrumming as he unhurriedly removed her bloomers, the tips of his fingers grazing her sides before she was as naked as the day she was born. The blaze of arousal that ran through him was as intense as the sun, and he has to remind himself like a chant that this is a first for her. He has to be gentle. 

"Lay back," Aesop rasped out, rising to his feet again to remove his boots before he joined her on the bed, leaning over her with one arm supporting his upper body. 

His eyes bore into hers as he slowly let his hand trail a sweet caress down her body. His touch was feather-light, the tips of his fingers scantily making contact with her heated skin, but it was enough to perceive the goosebumps that littered it. Her mouth was slightly open, though her eyes were wide - filled with anticipation, wonder and the lingering fear of the unknown. 

His hand travelled lower, perhaps slightly clumsily, until it finally reached her hip and then the apex of her thighs. Her breath sped up slightly, but her eyes held onto his and Aesop revelled in the trust she was giving him. She had offered herself on a silver plate, and he would not stop until he had devoured her whole.

Ever so slowly, he manoeuvred her legs open, settling himself between them before his hand travelled lower and finally reached the place he wanted to absolutely wreck.

Aesop felt the small wet tuft, his touch teasing as he carefully slid his finger up and down her slit.

"Oh," she gasped, surprised, her breath speeding up as her thighs clenched around him. 

"So responsive," Aesop chuckled lowly, "and I have barely even touched you." 

She only whined when his touch became bolder, his middle finger pressing down on her womanhood as his thumb searched for her clit. If he wanted to fuck her - if she wanted him to take her, he would need to prepare her in every way conceivable. 

"Is this good?" he breathed out, his eyes still not leaving hers as he leant down, peppering her face in soft and gentle kisses. His fingers, at last, found her little nub – small and hard, peeking out like a treasured secret, his thumb simply pressing down on, whilst his middle finger caressed up and down, and she gasped out, her back rising from the bed. 

"Yes," she finally found her words and nodded meekly. "I - Ah!" 

Aesop chuckled as he pressed down harder, slowly drawing precise circles on her clit as her womanhood gradually became more and more damp beneath his ministrations. He littered small kisses along her cheeks and jaw – barely tangible – as she whined and squirmed underneath him, her breath reduced to erratic pants that only fuelled his own arousal. His breeches were confining, but witnessing her descent into bliss was nothing if not a blessing. This was his personal Eden - Aesop was sure of it. 

He could feel her hole, tight and searing and oh so enticing, as his index finger joined his middle finger and touched her with newfound vigour. His thumb increased the pressure on her clit, and she keened.

"Aesop!"

"Yes?" he mumbled, his mouth on her throat, suckling tiny precious bruises all over. He could feel her heartbeat when his lips trailed her jugular vein, and it beat in the rhythm of his own. Her whining and squirming made him growl, but he would have been lying if it didn't excite him all the same. 

"I- Ah!" 

"Use your words, my sweet girl," Aesop drew back, his eyes finding her face again – her eyes shut in unadulterated bliss. 

"Look at me," he bade her, "I want you to look at me when I make you come. When you unravel on my fingers." 

Obediently she obliged, her frantic eyes finding his as she let out desperate pants and arched up into him.  

"Please," she begged him.

"Please, what?" He teased her with a wolfish grin.

"More."

She felt so utterly overwhelmed and treasured as he made her feel things she had never felt before. Aesop was all-consuming, and she lost herself in the pleasure he gave her. Pleasure she had never thought would even exist.

Between her legs, Aesop let his middle finger wander closer to her heat, pressing deeper as he went, feeling her wetness seeping out of her. Ever so carefully, almost curiously, he inserted his finger, coaxing a kittenish trill from her. 

"Oh, oh," she squirmed under him, the sensation foreign and not entirely pleasant. His finger was easily the size of two of hers, a burning feeling accompanying its breaching entrance. 

"Shh," he shushed her, littering kisses over her face once more. "I have to, my love. I have to. Just... let me feel you." 

A soothing exhale let her refocus on the circles he drew on her clit and the pleasure shooting through her. His movements were meticulous, calculated and more pleasing than anything she had ever tried on herself. 

Against his own thighs, Aesop could feel hers tensing and flexing, and he gave her a moment's reprieve before he could sense her settling, and he steadily began moving his finger in and out. She was tight, expectedly so, which only meant he would have to put in a substantial amount of work if she were to take him. To divert her attention further, he descended his head until his mouth found her erect nipples, enveloping one as she flexed into him.

"Aesop," she moaned lowly. He hummed in response – the vibrations a delightful sensation.

Though her hut had been comfortably warm before, it felt like it was positively ablaze now, the heat flickering away at her exposed skin, arousal running through her like a Graphorn untamed. The hand that had previously held him up now moved downwards, cupping her other breast, caressing it with teasing strokes that drove her mad.

"So tight," Aesop mumbled against her breast, his finger still dragging through her heat gently and slowly. "My perfect girl. So tight and warm..."

Her breathing quickened – chest rising against Aesop's face, his beard prickly against her delicate skin. Moans escaped her mouth; his thumb steadily increased its pressure on her as he worked her open. Delicately, he slipped in a second finger, pausing as she tensed up and before her tight and warm body opened up to him, welcoming his fingers as she groaned in rhapsody. 

"Aesop..." 

She trembled, overwhelmed by the very emotion and intimacy of the moment, a warm heat gathering in her lower abdomen as his motions slowly sped up, the delicious pressure of his fingers on her nub bringing her closer to the edge of delirium. 

"That's it," Aesop mumbled against her, slowly rising up to look at her face. "That's it, my love." 

Fervently, Aesop placed his lips upon hers again, consuming her cries of bliss as her body arched into his, her nipples brushing against the cotton of his blouse. One of her hands travelled from her sides to his waist whilst the other found his hair tangling itself in it as his movements quickened. Expertly, Aesop curled his two fingers inside her, uncovering the bundle of pleasure that made her keen under him. She broke the kiss, turning her head to the side as she moaned vociferously – panting as she got closer and closer to ecstasy. 

"Aesop, I –" she gasped, looking right into her lover's eyes, her pupils blown and cheeks rosy the closer he brought her to completion. 

"I've got you," he promised lowly, speeding up his movements as he felt her womanhood tighten up around his fingers. "Let go, my love. I've got you." 

She felt like she was burning. From the way his fingers felt on her – in her – making her sweat and drip on the sheets as she writhed beneath him, the heat burning from between her legs before it spread in every little part of her body – an all-consuming inferno.

"I – Ah!" 

"That's it, my love," Aesop cooed, curling his fingers against her spot, watching as she unravelled beneath him. Her eyes clenched, her hips wriggled underneath him, canting upwards – as she chased the foreign sensation that built up inside of her. Aesop fondled her clit a little faster, flicking it with animalistic precision as his fingers mercilessly assailed that tenderly sweet spot inside of her; before long, her womanhood clenched violently, and her first orgasm swept over her. Aesop watched, enthralled and utterly bewitched, as she cried out in pleasure, her thighs clenching around his hips and her tiny hands tightening, finding his shoulders and digging into them. 

"Oh! Aesop!" 

He could only groan, his manhood twitching at the thought of finally settling himself inside her tight, dripping warmth. Aesop continued to move his fingers – in, out – the movement lazy, helping her ride out the crashing waves of her orgasm before her tremble ceased and her moans shifted into paltry whines. He retracted his fingers, bringing them to his mouth as he sucked on them like a man starved, tasting her ambrosial wetness. She tasted like she smelled – saccharinely sweet like honey, entirely addicting. When he opened his eyes once more, he found his love staring at him with wide eyes, her cheeks flushed, and her hair spread around her head like a glowing halo. She was sweaty, her chest still heaving against the swelting heat of the hut – Aesop could feel his eyes darken in desire. 

His lips met hers with another bruising kiss, his prickly beard scratching against her delicate skin. She could taste the remnants of herself on him – an odd taste if one were to ask her – but she was left utterly breathless from the sheer overwhelming intensity of emotions surging through her, her very soul intertwining with his. To love someone as deeply as she loved Aesop had been one thing, but to feel the love reciprocated and returned tenfold was another dizzying reality entirely. 

"I love you," Aesop breathed out. "Fuck – I love you." 

"Aesop," her eyes widened, though her heart overfilled with love at his proclamation, and her eyes filled with tears. "I love you too." 

He smiled at her – how could he not? Whenever did he get this lucky?! Perhaps he had saved a nation once – there was no perspicuous reason for this love otherwise.

His hands found her sides again, feeling her curves with a reverent worshipping touch, relishing the soft skin of her much smaller body beneath the callouses of his fingers. She shivered lightly, keeping her eyes trained on his. No matter the trepidation coursing through her veins, she was safe and cared for in Aesop's arms and beneath his much larger body – enveloping her as the world around blurred outside her focus. With quivering hands, she reached out to his waist, pulling at his shirt with a subtle whine.

Aesop chuckled lowly, pulling his shirt from his breeches before he allowed her to help him pull his blouse over his head as it promptly joined the rest of their garments on the floor. His love glanced at him, a demure gaze as she followed the lines of his scars littering his torso, though most of them were hidden by the ample amount of hair that covered it. 

"And you say I'm exquisite," she whispered bashfully. 

Carefully, she reached out to the largest one by his ribs, following the line with the ghost of a touch into the thick fur in the middle of his chest. Her fingertips danced over his pectorals, causing Aesop to release a shuddering breath before he leaned down again to find her lips. Her hands pawed at him hungrily, almost boldly, as he devoured her lips in a searingly hot kiss.

"May I try something?" he asked breathlessly.

"I trust you."

A wolfish grin spread across his face, sending a jolt of desire down her spine, unsure of what to expect. For one last second, he drank in her gaze upon his body, watching as she took in his broad shoulders and tapered waist before he bent down again, pressing kisses along her neck and collarbones, his hot breath fanning against her bosom. 

"It'll be good, I promise," he mumbled, grin still on his face as he attended to her erect nipples with two kittenish licks before he went lower. His beard scratched against her belly, the delicious friction sure to leave a slight burn on her the following day, but her eyes widened again when he went even lower. 

"Stop thinking," Aesop muttered, feeling her tensing lightly beneath him as he kissed down her torso. "Just let yourself feel."

He ceased again for just a second when his lips reached her lower stomach – a moment to relish her sweet scent with blissfully closed eyes. Lovingly, tenderly, he pressed a kiss down right where her womb would be – a silent prayer, a wish, sent up to whichever God had sent her his way to ensure this would be fruitful. He knew his love was utterly magical, but this secret place of hers was capable of creating wonders he yearned for – possessively, wholly and greedy in ways he hadn't known.

"A-Aesop, what are you –?" she asked with a stutter when he went even lower, spreading her legs further, placing himself between them as he held them in his arms. 

"Push me away if you wish for me to stop, my love," a grin still on his face as he lowered his body to level with her womanhood. He gazed at her – right at the place he was hoping to ravage – whimpering with desire. He wasn't sure if he had ever expected anything, but if he did, it exceeded his expectations, for she looked oh so beautiful and alluring. Unable to stop himself, he bent down, brushing his nose up and down her mound, his beard leaving a deliciously sweet burn against the skin of her thighs as she started to shake and gasp in his hold. She smelled even better than he had dreamed, and without forewarning, his lips closed around her nub and sucked. 

Aesop was silently thankful her hut was nearly off grounds; the absolute wail of pleasure she let out would've been heard by the entire castle otherwise. Her hips canted upwards, her legs sealing around him, and her arms flailing around until they found Aesop's hair. She didn't push him away, but her grasp was tight, holding onto him like he was her lifeline. 

"Aesop!" 

He hummed lowly in response, his eyes closed at the delectable taste, pulling and suckling at her most sensitive part.

"Aesop it – Ah! 's too much I – " 

Her hips moved desperately beneath him – up, down; left, right – wriggling; trying to elude his succour and moving closer simultaneously. Determined to make her stay, Aesop wrapped one of his arms around her hip, pressing her down into the mattress as the other held open her legs. There was not a single thing on earth that could have impeded Aesop's ministrations, her yelps and incoherent pleas falling on deaf ears as his tongue swirled around her clit, pressing circles into her. He desperately osculated her ambrosial wetness – wanting, craving, needing her to come undone once more, his grip on her tightening.

"'sop – Please, I – Ah!" 

His name fell from her lips like a reverent prayer, her upper body thrashing around and her breath uneven as she gulped in the air between her cries of pleasure. Her quim was positively dripping – her fluids spreading against her thighs and onto the sheets of her bed. Aesop's own groans of desire sunk into her, breathing in heavy pants as he devoured her whole. His fingers found her hole again, this time easily inserting two as her womanhood clenched periodically around them. The bed jerked with her movements, the wooden frame clattering against the stone walls as the room continued to heat up. 

"I – Oh, Merlin – I... Ahhh!" 

Aesop chuckled, his fingers curling and hitting the same precious spot over and over again. She tasted so sweet; her womanhood frail and warm against his tongue as he lapped at her rapaciously.

"Good girl," he rasped out somewhere in between. "Doing so well for me."

Her spluttering cries filled him with wicked pride as her head thrashed against the pillows – him holding down the rest of her, leaving her entirely at his mercy – unable to do anything but take what he gave her. It was riveting to know he would be the first man to bed her, that he was the first to introduce her to the endless fields of pleasure, as much as it thrilled Aesop to know he would also be her last. His fingers dallied their movements, his tongue ceasing its assault in place of kittenish licks, wishing to draw out her ecstasy before he decided to enter a third finger. Her eyes scrunched up with the discomfort she was suddenly feeling, his tongue scarcely enough to make it decently pleasing. 

"Aesop," she groaned lowly, pushing her hip into her mattress in a futile attempt to escape him – his iron grip did not relent. "It's too much." 

"Shh..." he soothed her, his fingers moving in and out, curling inside her, opening her and making her all the more pliant for him. "Shh... there you go, my love. You can take it." 

His arm held her hips pertinaciously as his fingers worked deeper inside with each thrust – a little further each time they moved. She yelped, pleasure and pain intermingling when his tongue curled around her bundle of nerves, holding the highly sensitised part of her on the unforgiving, warm cushion of his own flesh before he sucked, the violent waves of ecstasy creeping up on her once more. Her wetness seeped out of her, dripping down the knuckles of his fingers, dirtying her thighs and the sheets below. The sounds he drew from her were utterly obscene, filling the air, which likely reeked of their activities, and he wasn't even close to being done with her. Her thighs trembled under his hold, her upper body thrashing around. 

She wished for it to stop, yet she prayed this would never end. 

"Aesop...Aesop... Merlin, I – Oh, OH."

"It's alright," Aesop mumbled. "You're doing so good for me. My perfect girl." 

Her second orgasm collided with her very soul – violently, fiercely, drowning her in the waves of ecstasy as the world around her shifted into a blinding white, turning her blissfully boneless. Her cries echoed in her hut, bouncing off the walls like sweet singing. Aesop groaned, his being awash with desire as his stiff manhood strained against his breeches – so much that it almost hurt. His fingers moved lazily, a few languid strokes helping her through the aftershocks of her peak, heat consuming her as she lay sapless beneath him. Aesop hastily unbuckled his breeches, pushing them down along with his underpants, letting his sizable erection spring free though his gaze did not wander from her.

His love looked downright sinful. 

She swallowed in greedy, deep breaths, her chest heaving as the electrifying feeling of her ecstasy continued to tingle through her, the world still spinning – she hardly even realised that Aesop was now naked too. Some hair clung to the nape of her neck, the rest fanned out around her as beads of sweat covered her lithe little body. It was as if she glowed from within – Aesop was sure he had never seen anything so beautiful. 

He slowly made his way back up to her, his arms on either side of her body, holding him up and relieving most of the pressure from his leg, though it barely hurt as it stood. His eyes didn't leave hers, though they were still hazy in the afterglow. Aesop's hand lovingly caressed her face, pushing back a stray hair or two, waiting until her eyes found his again. His shaft twitched anxiously, resting between her body and his – warm and soft and waiting. 

When she glimpsed at him – her eyes truly finding his – her eyes widened at the sight of him. Aesop hair was dishevelled, the hairline littered with beads of sweat as his dark eyes feasted upon her state. He was the very picture of depravity – his face drenched in her release from his nose to his lips, clinging to his stubble. She blushed fiercely at the view above her, almost averting her gaze had his fingers not caressed her cheeks. For the first time, she could feel the weight of his manhood against her stomach, the naked skin of his large body enveloping hers, but she didn't dare look down. It felt massive, though a large man like Aesop would likely be rather well...endowed. Dread filled her at the thought of him actually entering her, her breath picking up again – unable to hide the nature of her feelings.

Aesop's sweet and gentle caress steered her focus back to him, his smile just as soft. 

"I will be as gentle as I can," he promised, his voice low and placating. "It will hurt for a second, and if you need me to stop, you can tell me." 

He was so honest, so loving – so gentle and kind; her Aesop – that she could only nod, allowing his lips to fall upon hers as he shifted between her legs. She tried to remember what her mother had told her about the marital act – that she would simply need to endure – but it did little to subdue the tension she felt when she could feel him pressing against her folds. A pitiful whine escaped her lips, and she desperately tried to focus on anything else. 

"I've got you," Aesop gentled her, his eyes now looking down between their bodies. He was unable to see much, but his heart thumped erratically at the sight of his manhood, hard and pulsating with need, right at her entrance. It had been a while for him, too; most carnal encounters after Scarborough were merely transactional (if at all), and Aesop wasn't sure if he had ever felt desire and need as intensely as he had at this moment. 

"I've got you," he reiterated quietly, frowning a little as he eased the tip of him inside. She gasped for a second before holding her breath altogether, clenching her eyes shut upon feeling pure pressure. 

"There you go, my love," he whispered against her ear, curling his large body over hers, trying to hold himself back as he felt the tip of his manhood enveloped by the tight heat of her – entering her with a torturously slow pace. 

"I love you. You're doing so well, my love… So well. My good girl." 

Light kisses and a gentle caress kept her with her, her contorted face strained as Aesop gently and slowly worked himself into her – he hated that this even needed to be unpleasant in the first place. Another gasp escaped her abruptly, deep and greedy breaths filling her lungs with the parching air surrounding them. Her sweaty chest stuck to his, her erect buds teased by the hair on his chest. The symphony of sensations was wholly overwhelming as she struggled to contain both him and herself.

Pressure. Agony. Desire. Want. Aesop – inside her. 

Aesop let himself rest, her womanhood pulsating around him as it struggled to contain what little of his length he had inserted. Her small, near inaudible whimpers tore at his heartstrings – enough to distract his mind off the perfectly mindblowing sensation of feeling enveloped by her, his entire being aching with need as she leaked around him and he around her – easing the tight passage with their bodies aflame and hearts beating as one. 

"Breathe, my love," Aesop cooed, his hand caressing the sides of her body in gentle strokes as he tried to ease more of himself inside of her, unable to stop a slight moan from escaping his lips. 

"Aaaahh – " she grit out between her teeth, feeling overwhelmingly full. It was too big – feeling like it was tearing her apart at the seams, and she felt utterly pathetic beneath him. However, was she meant to fit that? 

"Aesop!" 

"Look at me," Aesop whispered, his breath mere inches away from her face. "Come, my love. Look at me. I've got you, okay?" 

Whimpering, she opened her eyes, the caramel warmth of Aesop's finding hers as he was brimming with overwhelming love and adoration – enough to bring down an entire army. He gently placed a kiss upon her forehead as his hand moved lower again, resolved to make this pleasurable for her. If it had simply been about his own pleasure, he would have come undone within but a second.

"Try to relax, my love," he gentled, his hand finding her hardened nub again, smirking when she moaned in bliss as he gently put pressure on it, drawing light circles and cajoling more wetness from the depths of her core. She was feverishly warm, enveloping him with a vice grip – soft, warm, dripping the further he went. The arm holding him above her was tense, straining with the effort to keep him upright when she felt so good around him as he moaned himself with the warmth surrounding him. Slowly, gently, he eased more of himself inside, pressing his hips forward as his manhood fought against the tight clenches of her channel. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears – but they did not leave his.

"Ahh – Aesop!"

"That's it, my love. My beautiful girl...I love you," he gentled. "You are doing so well. So very well for me." 

"I…I…"

"What is it, my love?" he asked, his hip pressing forward another excruciating inch, their bodies aching for the other as he leaked around her the way she did around him – easing the passage and helping her stretch against him. Her breathing was erratic, her cheeks glaringly red as pleasure and pain intermingled once more. "What do you feel?"

"It..mhm..." A tender moan spilt from her, her womanhood slowly loosening around him. "–sop."

"Yes, my love?" He whispered, kissing the corner of her mouth as he felt her shivering beneath him. He rubbed her clitoris with messy and soft strokes, relishing her low moans as her eyes fluttered shut – this time in pleasure. Aesop could not help the small smile that placed itself upon his lips, for she was breathtaking. Another inch pressed into her, the discomfort returning and a choked little sob spilling from her plush lips – a stray tear spilling from her eye. 

"Do you wish for me to stop?" Aesop asked her gently, halting all his movements as he awaited her answer. She did not answer him, though she shook her head furiously from side to side.

"Look at me," he bade her again, his hand cupping her face as he gentled her with a soothing touch. "You do not have to endure if you cannot."

Her teary eyes met his as she gulped before another sharp intake of breath filled her lungs. "I don't want you to stop," she whimpered miserably. "Please just..." she bit her lip, her gaze averting in shame.

"Please, what, my love?" he asked. "You can tell me anything. You need to tell me if you want this."

"What you've been doing with your fingers..." she gulped. "I want…I need…"

"Do you need me to…" he slowly pressed his fingers on her clitoris again – a little more pressure than before – his voice fading as she gasped and arched into him. 

"Yes…" she sighed contently, the furrow of her brow decreasing, and her eyes closed again. "A–Ae–Aesop," she shakily moaned, her hips canting upwards to meet his. 

His self-control was admirable, the strain on his own body and mind evident by the strain in his arm and his own panting breaths. Her womanhood parted for him, the tight muscle easing as she relaxed into his touch – clenching hard then parting like a greedy mouth. His shaft was leaking a trail inside her with each small push forward – she did not believe he could go any further, for it already felt like he was beyond anywhere he should be. Before long, Aesop pushed forward one more time – burying himself with one long and stubborn thrust, reaching all the way inside her. 

She wailed and burst into tears at the sensation, Aesop's own head dropping between the valley of her breasts as he groaned deeply at the sheer feeling.

"Aesop!"

"Fuck," he groaned lowly, the hand next to her head gripping the sheets – his hand surely turning white with force. He had stilled inside her, allowing both him and her to adjust to the foreign feeling. Her chest was rising violently, pushing against his as he fully enveloped her beneath him.

"A-Aesop," she whimpered, a twinging pain still lingering in her lower body, her legs sapless on either side of him. "It - ah…hurts." 

"I know, my love," Aesop breathed out, his eyes clenched in focus. "You're so – ah...tight." 

His hands found her sides again, tracing delicate patterns across her heated skin – all whilst he lingered inside her; unmoving. Slowly, but surely, he felt her settle, her breath evening out and her core loosening. The pain that had pierced her and lingered in her womanhood slowly dwindled away, leaving nothing but a sensation of overwhelming fullness in its wake. His weight upon hers felt strangely comforting, a familiar feeling among the symphony of vast and earth-shattering novelties. Aesop was scalding against her, his broad and heavy and burly body encasing her protectively – shielding her from the world around her, though if she had to describe her world now, there would only be Aesop anyway. She said nothing – much like he did – allowing his panting breath to fan over her bosom as her tears dried. Her fingers, as she now began to realise, had pressed into his sides, leaving red marks on his tough skin. 

"Oh," she whispered as she loosened her tight grip.

"Hm?" Aesop mumbled, the vibrations hitting her bosom. "What is it, my love?"

Her voice was trembling and quiet when she answered him – plagued by the shame of what she had done. "I fear I might have hurt you..."

She could feel Aesop's chest rumbling with a low chuckle, the action sparking…something unknown between the folds of her quim before he rose to meet her eyes again, a lopsided smirk on his flushed face. 

"My love," he mumbled, a stray hair pushed from her tear-streaked face. "My beautiful, beautiful love...You have cried, certainly not from ecstasy this time, and you worry about me?" Another low chuckle vibrated through them. "Fear not – you haven't hurt me. I have endured far worse."

He watched as she bit her lip, evading his piercing gaze in shame, more tears gathering in her eyes. 

"None of that," Aesop chided lovingly, pushing her face to meet his, placing a chaste kiss on her lips. "You're doing so well for me," he whispered, eyes closed in bliss as he felt her walls pulsate around him. He embraced her lips in a loving kiss once more, their tongues mingling as he continued to lead her. "How do you feel?"

"Full," she whimpered lowly. "So… ah – full, Aesop."

A deep groan left his lips upon her admission. Call it male pride or call it unnaturally developed self-conceit, but Aesop could not help the blaze of arousal that burst through him at her admittance. He knew he was charitably blessed, more so than most men – not that she had any way of knowing – but his love took him perfectly, doing so well for him – only him. 

"Fuck," he rasped out, straining above her as her warm heat continued to envelop him in a vice grip. 

She looked entrancing beneath him, eyes shut, with bitten lips – her chest rising against his, body flushed beautifully as it lay against the pillows. And she was all his. Eternally and entirely his.

"You are doing so well," he praised her in a low tone once more, his hands tracing placating patterns on her skin as they descended towards her hips. He could feel her tension under his fingers, her body shivering – so far removed from the ecstatic state she had been in before. 

"Do you trust me?" Aesop whispered, almost inaudible. 

"Yes." Her voice was squeaky, and she did not open her eyes, but the word spilt from her lips with no hesitation – and that was enough for Aesop.

He firmly took hold of her hips, angling himself above her – rubbing comforting circles into her hips. Gently, he eased a few inches out, her quim clinging to him before he eased himself back inside with the same familiar gentleness. A breathless gasp escaped her, her eyes opening to meet his as he meticulously took in her body's every response, his eyes hazy with desire and wanting – it sent a shiver down her spine. It was a peculiar feeling, entirely recondite but not unpleasant altogether. Each slow thrust which met her allowed his pubic bone to grace her clit with delicious friction, his manhood gradually opening her up with every thrust – battering away any clenching as her womanhood took him. Her arms were wrapped around his torso; fingers pressed into the blades of his shoulders as Aesop rhythmically moved, a little more each and every time. 

She watched as his head dropped between his shoulders, a deep groan escaping him as her warmth circled him. Merlin, Aesop could truly not recall ever feeling even close to this – She was so tight for him, so warm, and so delicate beneath him that it took every atom of his being not to rush himself into climax; he felt like a dratted schoolboy again. Thank Merlin, he was adept at concocting Bruisewort Balm as he knew with absolute certainty that his grip on her hips would leave bruises. 

His grinding movements gradually turned pleasant – no longer pressurising.

"Aesop," she groaned, her tone entreating. "I – ah…"

"You feel so perfect, my love," he groaned, allowing his face to move downwards so his mouth could envelop one of her hardened peaks once more, his tongue swirling around despairingly, his hair tickling against her heated skin. "– Doing so well for me. Taking me so perfectly."

He could feel her womanhood dampening around him, easing his motions further – a dark chuckle escaped him.

"You like that, my love? Being told that you're my good – ah," Aesop grunted as he ground his pelvis deeper, her lower body pushed into the mattress. "– my good, good, girl? All for me?"

"Yes," she sighed contently, her eyes closing in bliss. 

He cooed against her breasts, deep, breathless, his grinding slowly turning into gentle thrusts – still careful not to hurt her. The hands he held on her hips relaxed, one moving lower to angle her hips differently as he moved his own. Each thrust inwards left her closer to being utterly sapless, unable to do anything but take what he gave, his generous length and girth aiming to brush against the soft spot above her entrance that made her way to wail out in pleasure. 

Aesop's head shot up in astonishment when her womanhood tightened around him violently, her rear and head rising from where she lay as she wailed.

"Aesop! Oh…Oh!" 

His length brushed against her spot mercilessly, teasing her deliciously when she was very much sated from the two peaks of ecstasy before – the sensation both aching and sending her closer to delirium. 

"There you go," Aesop rasped, his shallow thrusts gaining momentum. "Is that good?" he asked, groaning, teasingly pushing his length to deliberately beat away at that tender spot. 

"Yes!" his love cried out beneath him, scarcely believing the sheer pleasure she was suddenly feeling – never having felt such an intense cacophony of feelings aimed at her before. With a growl through clenched teeth, Aesop moved his hands to her breasts, fondling them tenderly as he rose up to look down upon the ethereal form of his beloved. The guttural moan he released when he took in the very picture of sin beneath him shook him to his core, the familiar sensation of his impending peak quelling in his lower region. He had to slow down, fearing he would finish before she did, though he could feel her peak approaching. 

She looked like a sacred piece of art – sweaty, moaning, and blissfully boneless, her hair spread out like a halo, cheeks flushed, and eyes closed – his own groans of pleasure hastening her voracity.  

"You're doing so well for me," Aesop groaned. "So fucking well. All for me. My beautiful girl."

"Yes!" she chanted affirmatively. "All for you." 

His thrusts were slow, tempered - reaching parts of her she never thought anyone would reach. His hips canted against her, pushing her further into the mattress, pressing deep, so very deep, into her, the tip of his manhood pressing against her cervix with the sheer force of his thrusts, her womanhood stretched open. She was utterly vulnerable – her legs shook with the intensity of emotions coursing through her, shaking her to her very soul. 

"Fuck," Aesop hissed hotly. "I love you. I love you so much. My good – ah, girl. Doing so well for me. My lovely woman… So warm, so… ah....good."

"Aesop!" she cried out, her grip on his shoulders tightening as the familiar coil of eros bubbled beneath her skin again, the flames of desire licking their way up from her womanhood and spreading through her body mercilessly. "I – oh god. I –"

"I've got you," Aesop rasped reassuringly, his touch a temperate anchor in the endless sea of ardour she was drowning in. She cried out once more, a stray tear spilling from the corner of her eye, which Aesop gently wiped from her cheek before he reached down and pressed a soft kiss into the crown of her hair. 

"I've got you," he promised once more with a sweet sigh, "You're ah – doing so well for me. I love you so much. Ah – taking me so well. Fuck – I'm so...so proud of you… It's alright... let go for me." 

She felt his soft, groping hand, helplessly desirous touching along her body and face, caressing her softly - oh so softly – with infinite soothing and assurance. It was so much and never enough, the staccato building and building confronting her with the innermost parts of herself. Never had she felt so acutely the agony of her own forlornness, yet embraced in Aesop's arms, she knew she would never feel forlorn again. She was his, and he was hers. She had reached the peak twice before that night, but this was so greatly different that she wondered if she had truly reached it after all. He was turgid and quivering inside her, the strange thrills rippling through her like burning embers – dashing to points of brilliant exquisiteness. She lay near unconscious of the frenzied cries she emitted, unaware of his gaze upon her trembling body as she was consumed entirely. She clung to him in her burning passion, his rhythms flushing up into her, filling her entire, cleaving consciousness until she was nothing but a burning flame.

Aesop nearly came apart at the sight and feeling of her, the sight celestial, but he craved, needed, more. 

"Fuck," he groaned. Though his movements slowed, they did not cease altogether, his eyes closing in bliss as his thick manhood scraped against her tender, clenching walls. His thrusts were gentle as he helped her through the throes of her peak, lidded eyes, observing her every tremble. When his love came to, noting his continued movements, her eyes shot open, their hazy gaze blurry.

Stuttering, his name left her lips, the burning molten between her legs never ceasing. "A-A-Aesop."

He continued to rock inside; out. It was a moment of pure peace for Aesop, the entry into the body of her so very pleasurable – his hips meeting hers. Her legs tensed, and her womb clenched, unsure if it was pleasure or pain this time around. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed in the hut, the room hot and humid amidst their moans and groans and her cries.

"Aesop 's too much," her speech slurred, struggling to keep her eyes on his. 

"You are doing so well," he grunted, adjusting the grip he held on her, snapping his hips up violently, his antecedent restraint and control dwindling. His arms circled her, Aesop's body on hers, his wet body touching hers, so close. "You can give me one more." 

His thrusts pushed the literal air from her lungs, gasps and moans spilling from her bitten lips – his name sometimes in between like a prayer. Aesop's hands caressed down her sides until he bent forward, lifting her kneed to wrap her leg around his waist, holding it there – the new angle leaving her vulnerably open. Their eyes met one another – hazy with lust and wanting and need and earth-shattering love and devotion simmering below the surface. 

"I love you," the young woman sobbed out, his manhood hitting the deepest parts of her, the tip of it pressing against the entry to her womb. Her back arched into him, his scalding chest resting over hers, rough hairs chafing against her tight and tender nipples. She loved him beyond anything - adored him till her knees were weak as she walked and her heart could no longer survive without him. He was her air, her warmth, her very reason for being.

Something gave way, and the potions master above her precipitously, violently, thrust his hips into hers, held up only by his bruising grip as the remains of her lay sapless beneath him. Aesop slid his hands down her body, his callouses leaving goosebumps in their wake as he caressed her soft stomach before his fingers found her erect clit above her entrance. Her wails were the sweetest song Aesop had ever heard, the vicious grip on his shoulders sure to leave imprints for days to come. 

"I love you too – fuck," Aesop hissed, allowing himself to close his eyes as he battered away, his movements forceful and erratic. His mind filled with the reason they were engaging in the first place – a vivid image conjured in his mind of her swollen and rounded body.

"You will look so beautiful," he murmured breathlessly. "So stunningly beautiful. Whole with my children – ah, fuck." 

Her womanhood clenched, flowing and alive and vulnerable as the image filled her too – helpless with adoration of him and what she wanted him to do – before it opened, ready to be filled with new life all for him – with him. 

Both her and his yearning adoration for one another was fearful, leaving them helpless in each other's embrace and so different from what had been their relationship – a new dawn blooming. It was sinking into them as his manhood sunk into her, deep into their being to the centre of all creation. Aesop had not known yearning like this – possibly even feared it his entire life, lest if he adored too much, he would be vulnerable; a slave to his emotions which he certainly had never wished to be. Yet as he moved into her, enveloped tightly and loved, he would no longer fight it. It was so fathomless, so soft, so deep and so unknown – yet he surrendered, just as she had.

"Aesop!"  she cried out.

"Your womb will be full with me," Aesop groaned nonsensically. "So filled with life that everyone shall see."

Her hips canted upwards to meet his thrusts, his finger pressing wildly into her bud as ecstasy drew near – for both of them. Her wails of pleasure filled the room around them, his lowly groans swirling between. Her legs had wrapped around his hips, holding him close in her vices, and her womanhood felt perfectly satisfied – the female inside her never more loved and cared for than it had been in this very moment. His phallus was forcing her to take every sensation, and she no longer felt ashamed to want it all. 

"Take it," Aesop growled. "Take my seed, and I shall ensure you will be a mother." 

"Yes, yes, please, I – " she begged through pleasured sobs, wishing he would finally fill her. The yearning with which she realised the difference between wanting a child and wanting his was discordant, even if it seemed ordinary enough. But to be filled with Aesop's child, and his alone, made her feel like a woman reborn.

One final, forceful thrust before Aesop's lips fell upon hers, his ecstasy intermingling with hers, their souls intertwining as Aesop swelled and swelled, pushing his seed inside her – pure deepening whirlpools of sensation swirling through them until they were one perfect concentric fluid of feeling, his life springing into her.

They gasped into each other as the waves of pleasure ebbed through them, laying utterly still as they knew nothing but each other and warmth. Carefully, Aesop wrapped his arms around his lover's waist and turned them onto their sides, limbs entangled and his manhood still resting deep inside her, not allowing a single drop of his seed to spill. Their eyes were closed blissfully, her head nestled into his chest with his arms encasing her protectively. It was done – she had chosen him, and he had chosen her, his duty now forever protecting and shielding the woman in his arms, a duty he would fill with all his honour. A duty, which, in due time, would be extended to life growing inside her – a life Aesop was looking forward to protecting with all he had.

"I love you," Aesop mumbled into the crown of her hair. "I love you most ardently. You are an incomparable gift, my love."

He felt her tears before he saw them, undue panic rising in his chest as he bade her to look at him. He held her cheek against his hand, warm and flushed after their proclivities. 

"What is it, my love?" he asked in hushed tones. "Have I hurt you?"

"No," she shook her head. "No, you have not I –"

"Then please tell me what –"

"Nothing," she sobbed, a shy smile on her face as she burrowed herself into his hand. "I could have never thought these relations to be so... liberating."

"…liberating?" Aesop asked after a breath of silence. He did not understand. 

"Yes," she nodded into his hand, before she smiled up at him. "My mother had told me that...when it happens, I should lie back and think of England. That I would have to endure until my husband had his heir. She did not mention that it could be… that it would be a mere hitch of pain before an endless field of pleasure."

His heart both shattered and thumped upon hearing her admission, his strokes against her back so soft and gentle, barely discernable if her wet and battered body was not as sensitive as it had been. 

"You let me bed you thinking it would be something to endure?" he inquired, praying that he had heard – understood – wrong. 

"Yes," she replied with no hesitation in her voice. "If it meant that you would father my children – our children – I would have endured a thousand times over. But…this?" Her cheeks glowed in the aftermath, unable to speak of their activities even after what had transpired. "This was nothing to endure."

"And you never have to endure it," Aesop resolutely told her, pressing a chaste kiss upon her lips. "I will not stand for it. This was your choice and yours alone. And should you ever –"

"Shhh," she gently interrupted him with a smile upon her lips. "I do not know what it felt like to you but to me? I do not believe a woman could ever be…happier. Or more loved." 

Aesop returned her smile tiredly – relieved and triumphantly proud. "I do not believe a man could ever find more happiness either." 

For the longest time, Aesop Sharp was absolutely certain that he must have eradicated an entire civilisation in his past life, as there was no other possible explanation for the sheer torture in found himself in. But as his beloved lay in his arms, falling asleep, burrowed safely in his chest away from the world, having chosen him as he had chosen her, he truly could allow himself to dream of forever. 

Aesop Sharp now knew that reprieve was possible – even for someone like him, the living proof of it in his strong arms.

[v3nusxsky]

Who says 18+

*A/n~ I absolutely fell in love with this idea and hope it does the prompt some justice. Feel free to request anything I'll happily give it a shot. It's also extremely late and I'm touch starved and sleep deprived so I may have to re write this.*

Trigger warnings~ smutttt mommy k!nk oral overstimulation f!ngering sub x reader dom Larissa

Prompt~ DATE NIGHT!!! \Requested on wattpad

☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾

Your gorgeous wife, Larissa Weems is a heavily respected women in the outcast community. The work she does at Nevermore is nothing less than extraordinary. The youngest principal and the only female principe Nevermore has ever seen. Despite all the responsibilities your wife has, she still makes an incredible effort in your relationship. Despite how busy she will be Larissa still relishes any time you can spend together and will move heaven and earth to ensure you get some of her time daily. Most of the time that looks like lunch dates in her office. The students of Nevermore looked forward to you arriving for lunch. You occasionally stopped and chatted with Yoko, Wednesday and Enid , in which has created quite a bond between you all. However tonight, Larissa had told you she'd planned a night out. Nothing too fancy due to your own anxieties but something that you'd enjoy. Your happiness is everything to your wife and she would do anything to achieve it.

Arriving home from the lunch date with your wife you immediately got to work getting ready. A shower was the first order of business. Scrubbing every area you could, shaving every little hair and allowing the hot water to relax you. Then it was selecting an outfit before hair and make up. The chooses outfit being skin tight black jeans, a nice pale blue lacy top with spaghetti straps. Paired with a chunky knit cream cardigan and some black vans. Very light makeup due to the casual feel of your outfit. Curling your locks into beach waves that frame your face. A few sprits of your favourite perfume pur blanca (fyi most amazing spray I have ever owned ) and you were ready. Just in time for your wife to arrive home and start to get ready.

It wasn't long before you were settled in your usual seat of the car. Larissa loved to drive and you loved to watch so the arrangement was perfect for you both. Curiosity got the better of you as you tried to work out what tricks were hiding up her sleeves. "Ris? Where are we going?" You questioned knowing you wouldn't get an answer.

"You'll see darling." She all but hummed out before confirming to hum along to the fleetwood mac playing.

It wasn't long till you pulled up outside a building you never had set foot in. It was Larissa opening your door that snapped you from thoughts. "Thank you my lady" you giggled with a tiny nod of affection in your wife's direction. You watched as the smile lit up her beautiful ocean blue eyes.

"Shall we darling?" She extended her hand to you watching as you curled your smaller hand and fingers around hers. Leading the way into the building she squeezed gently letting you know you are safe and calm any anxiety that could be rising in this new environment.

You're eyes scanned the room, you let out gasp of excitement at the sight of a pool table. You turned to look at your wife with pleading eyes hoping to convey just what you wanted.

"Darling? You want to play?" She offered after seeing your reaction. You nodded with a smile and made your way over to the table. Immediately starting to rack up the balls in the familiar pattern. After setting up the table you lifted both cues feeling their weights before selecting the one you wished to play with. Your wife readily took the other cue. "Darling would you like a drink?" She nodded to the bar which you hadn't noticed due to your excitement of the pool table.

"Wine please my love" you smiled and pecked her lips watching as she walked up to bar to order the wine. You couldn't help but rake your eyes over her form as she stood placing the order. Absolutely stunning. Her dress showing off her gorgeous legs cutting off mid thigh. Red was most definitely her colour. A flush found your cheeks at your less than innocent thoughts of your wife. Even after calling her your wife for two years you would still blush like a school girl at these thoughts.

You took your glass from her and sipped it. Humming out in appreciation you licked your lips and pecked your wife's cheek. "You want to start Rissa?" You watched as her eyes darkened.

"No darling that's quite alright you can start. It's not like you're a pool shark..." she trailed off in thought. "Actually let's make this interesting best out of three whoever wins gets a surprise afterwards." she finished off with a smirk as she whispered it in your ear. A shiver of delight ran down your spine and you readily agreed.

The games passed rather quickly. Teasing eachother by "accidentally" brushing their hip ass or arm as you moved round the table or whispering the most sinful things in your ear to put you off. Every little touch or comment directed to you made your cheeks flush and heat pool between your thighs. Of course Larissa wasn't fairing much better. You knew exactly what to say to get your wife to bend and crave you. And tonight you we're pulling out all the stops. It came to the last game to decide the winner and you couldn't help but step up your game. Pool is a secret guilty pleasure of yours and you were about to show her just how skilled you are at the game. You couldn't help the wink as you potted the black ball effectively winning the game. A squeal of happiness left your lips as you moved closer to kiss your wife.

"Thank you for playing with me baby" you whispered against her lips before crashing your lips to hers. Only when you pulled back due to needing oxygen did you mumble "let's go home?"

"Of course my love... who would've knew my wife is a secret pool Shark hmm?" She whispered in your ear before finishing up her wine and leading you to the car, delighting in the smile that hadn't left your lips since your arrival.

The car ride was quite respectively you were both a little lost In your own heads. Only when you pulled back up to your house just a 5 minute walk from Nevermore did you let Larissa know what you wanted by leaning over to her whispering in her ear "mommy I need you" only then we're you extremely grateful  that you had eaten during the games you played as now you only had one thing on your mind.

If you're completely honest it's all a blurred haze, rather unsure how you got from the car to your bedroom door that your wife had you pinned securely too as she ghosted her lips up and down your neck. Her body pressed into yours and her lips at your neck drove you wild with need. She knew this of course. Teasing you was one of your wife's favourite games to play. She delighted in watching you struggle and squirm against her. Your stubbornness not letting you submit to the taller women easily. Yes Larissa enjoys pushing you to your limits and if your honest you enjoy it just as much.

"Rissaaaaa stop teasing me" you whine out as you feel her sucking at your pulse point, head lulling back to provide her more access to your neck.

"Oh but you always make the most beautiful sounds for me baby" lust filling her voice had more slickness coating your thighs.

"Mommy take me to bed please" you pleased with her desperate for more. Your pleading answered as your wife gathered you in her arms and walked you to the bed still continuing her assault on your neck. The blue purple bruises already appearing on your smooth pale skin. You felt your wife smirk against your skin as your back hit the mattress eliciting a small gasp from you. Kisses trailed up to your ear and with a quick nip to your ear lobe hands toying with your cardigan Larissa husked out " you my pretty girl are absolutely breathtaking. This outfit looks amazing on you although I do wish for it to be on our bedroom floor."

As every article of clothing was slowly removed from your tiny frame you watched as your wife's eyes darkened each time more of your body became exposed. It was when you were only in your undergarments that Larissa let out a groan. "Darling, this is new?"

"You like it my love? I brought it just for you" you replied as kisses were placed on any inch of skin in a reachable distance. Hands gripping tightly to your hips showing you just how much she liked your surprise. It wasn't long before they joined the rest of your clothing on the floor as you lay bare. Eyes roaming all of your uncovered body as she stripped herself down to match you. Only then did she crawl on top of you and kiss you with so much passion and desire. Of coursed you returned her level of passion moaning when she nipped at your bottom lip. Only pulling away when the need for oxygen became too much. Her hands roaming all over your body as she lowered herself downwards to pay attention to your chest. She always payed an almost worship like attention to your breaths during intimate moments. So gentle and loving knowing you could be quite sensitive there. Licking sucking and kissing marking each as hers.

"Darling I want to taste you." She almost growled out in a matter of fact. This caused your hips to jerk upwards just at the thought of the ache there being relieved slightly. And with that Larissa found her usual place settled between your thighs. Her tongue exploring your cunt slowly as if it was the first time while her hands ran lightly up and down your thighs. Your hips moving on their own accord is what caused a strong hand to grip your hip and still the movement. A groan of frustration left you. God you wanted more. Needed more. "I didn't say you could do that Y/n" she almost purred out and If you didn't know your wife as well as you did you wouldn't have understood the subtle warning in her words.

"S s sorry mommy" you gasped out as she resumed her work with more gusto than last time. Her tongue tracing the word "mine" as she moaned at the taste of you. Your moans becoming more desperate as you were chasing the familiar high that your body desperately craves. You cried out when you felt her fingers inside of you setting a fast pace. "F-fuck mommy!"

Larissa knew your body well. She knew your tales for when an orgasm would take over. That is why she brought you to the edge and smirked looking up at your hooded eyes. "Darling what word was I writing earlier?" She hummed as if it was a purely innocent question and she hadn't got you teetering on the edge of what you were sure would be an amazing orgasm.

"I - uh fuck what?" Your brain short circuiting only able to focus on the high that was just out of your reach. "Mine?" You whimpered out unsure of it was correct. Her movements resuming gave you your answer. Your whimpers and mewls filling the room.

"Cum darling" was all the permission you needed to be thrown over the edge. The fingers inside you helping ride out the pleasure.

The empty feeling had a whine of protest tumbling from your lips until you felt her fingers at your lips.

"Open" she commanded and you did instantly accepting her fingers moaning at the taste of yourself. "Suck" and you did so making sure to clean every drop of your essence. "Good girl" she praised as she watched with lustful eyes. Withdrawing her fingers and her body from yours you watched as your with walked to the box containing all your special items. Arousal instantly working its way to your core despite the pleasure you'd just received. You need more. Can you really be shocked? Your wife is absolutely stunning.

Larissa returned with some of your favourites. Restraints that were swiftly and expertly attached to you. Only then did you spot your favourite next to your wife's favourite toy. Oh this was going to be an experience for you both. Larissa settled herself once more between your thighs and let out a teasing breath at your centre. Delighting in the fact your breath hitched in your throat. "Little one you have to be good for me now okay? Then maybe I'll reward you" nodding in acceptance you whimpered "please mommy I'll be good"

Only then did you feel the rabbit inside of you as your wife turned it on watching your reaction intensely. Your body responding to the strong vibrations instantly. You immediately began the climb to your climax eyes closed focused on the pleasure the toy provided. It was only when your name was moaned breathlessly that you half opened your eyes to find the source. Of course your wife had her own hand working herself to an orgasm alongside you. Her unwavering gaze fixed onto your dripping sex. "Oh fuck mommy! God please fuck"

"Darling fuck your so gorgeous for me." She panted out in a response to your own moans. You could tell by the shaking of your thighs you were close to the edge. "Mommy please please I need to-" a moan cut off your sentence but luckily your wife knew what you wanted. Herself teetering on the edge of her own climax. "Cum for mommy baby. Such a good slut" she moaned out as she feel over the edge which in turn threw you over your own.

After her own climax she approached you again this time instructing you to clean her own fingers. Eyes still fixed at your soaked centre. The vibrator still working at between your thighs at a maddening pace. Larissa enjoyed watching you withering against the bed as the toy continued its assault on you. It was drawing the most delicious and pathetic noises from you that spurred her own arousal to grow once more.

You were quickly becoming overstimulated. You had no clue how many orgasms your body had gave and no idea how many you had left to give. The toy keeping its brutal sensations going. How long had it been? Your wife transfixed at the sight. Tears had long since started to fall as you squirmed desperately trying to get a break from the sensations. A cry tore through you as you came once again your wife's name on your lips. Oh how broken you sounded and all for her. A small sigh mixed with a whine at the empty feeling left your lips as she removed the item and turned it off throwing it somewhere else. That's future hers problem. Right now with You restrained and so deliciously spread for her she only had one thought. You felt her free your lips placing a gentle kiss at the red marks caused by your desperation to touch your wife forgetting that you couldn't move.

"You're such a needy little thing hmm?" She stated eyeing the state of your exhausted body. Knowing you wouldn't have the ability string a coherent sentence you nodded weakly. Only then did you notice your wife adorning her favoured red strap. When did she put that on? Fuck. Your thighs pressed together to ease the ache that remained at the sight. "Oh my darling do you need mommy to be inside of you?" She taunted approaching your centre.

"P-please mommy fuck me" you whined pathetically seeing your wife use the ample amount of slickness to coat the fake cock.

"My pretty one of course I will you asked so nicely" she whispered coming down to kiss you as she entered you. The moan was lost in your kiss as she stilled allowing your sensitive sex to adjust. Sweat coated your body from the previous assault on your body it wasn't long before you started climbing the familiar path once more. Seeing your pleasure and the thrusts of her own hips was equally bringing your wife to the same path. Tears once again streaming as she continued to pound into your over sensitive cunt. "Cum baby" was growled into your ear and you let yourself fall once more. But this thrusting of her hips never slowed as you began to climb again? Or were you still cumming? God you didn't know but your exhausted body was struggling.

"Come on pretty girl I want one more from you. Give mommy one more" she purred never stopping her rhythm.

"I - fu-I no- can't- please- mommy" you whimpered hips meeting her thrusts.

"Oh but you can darling and you will. I want one more and you will give it. " she demanded her dominant tone soaking her words. "Come on little one I know you can do it such a good girl for me."

She snaked her hand down your exhausted body to rub circles onto your clit. "I want you to cum now y/n" and you did with a silent scream. Your withering body riding the waves of pleasure spurring the older women to let herself fall once more. Only slipping from your soaked cunt once she was sure you both had rode your highs out. The whine you let out at the sensation showing just how ruined you were. You lay there exhausted covered in sweat with a satisfied smile plastered on your lips. Your wife quickly rid her self of the strap before coming to gather you in her arms. She knew you needed this to come back from the subspace you were in.

Her fingers trailed over your exposed skin allowing you to feel her breathing. "Little one I need you to come back to mommy now" she whispered into your hair. You whined not really processing what was happening right now. Larissa had completely fucked you dumb. You sat in her embrace until you finally came back to her. "Darling you did so good for me. Do you need anything a drink? A snack? A bath? Cuddles?" She listed off some of your favourite aftercare and you knew whatever you asked she would do in a heartbeat. "Cuddles mommy" you whimpered already feeling your eyes fluttering closed at the thought of her.

"Of course my love. Let's be sleepy heads hmm? Such a good girl you did so well my love" she reassured you as you gave into the exhaustion. The last things you remember are the sound of her voice and feeling so incredibly loved and cared for.

Word count ~ 3265~

*Authors note~ 3000 words just for you all having to wait I hope I have done this some justice feel free to send me any more prompts i actually adored writing this*