#bearded composer

[derlejoe]

Blake Morgan

sources:

facebook

bach-cantatas

soundcloud

voces8

youtube

opera today

[andi-o-geyser]

all my favourite characters are just me seeing them and going "damn you sure do clean up well but I'd much rather see you grinning with blood between your teeth"

[gill-sans]

[sesamenom]

some ideas from an au where maglor just keeps living in britain (/himring?)

especially in the earlier eras he had to put a lot more effort into styling/dyeing his hair to cover his ears & the blueness/Elf Sparkle. he also wore glasses for a while to dim the Treelight Eyes (because even as badly faded as he is, it's still really obvious with how old he is).

[jellophoid]

stupid wizard that haunts my entire life 🗿

[cerealbishh]

"You are mine" // "I will always love you"

🎥: @starcuffedjeans

[portrait-paintings]

Rabindranath Tagore

Artist: Violet Oakley (American, , 1874-1961)

Date: Early 20th century

Medium: Watercolor on paper

Collection: Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, Philadelphia, PA, United States

Rabindranath Tagore

Rabindranath Tagore (7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941) was an Indian polymath who worked as a poet, writer, playwright, composer, philosopher, social reformer, and painter of the Bengal Renaissance. He reshaped Bengali literature and music as well as Indian art with Contextual Modernism in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Author of the "profoundly sensitive, fresh and beautiful" poetry of Gitanjali. In 1913, Tagore became the first non-European (non-White) and the first Asian to win a Noble Prize in any category, and also the first lyricist to win the Nobel Prize in Literature. Tagore's poetic songs were viewed as spiritual and mercurial; where his elegant prose and magical poetry were widely popular in the Indian subcontinent. He was a fellow of the Royal Asiatic Society. Referred to as "the Bard of Bengal".

[davidbeardmusic]

The Diegetic Score to the black and white Film within the Film of Gregori J. Martin's disturbing 2008 feature 'Jack Rio'. An orchestral 'Film Noir' style soundtrack influenced by Romance, Tragedy and Murder. Three cues, no dialogue, no foley. Enjoy x

More music examples and the means to license for your media projects at https://audiojungle.net/user/davidbeardmusicproduction and https://www.pond5.com/artist/davidbeardmusic

[mephistovalse]

Brahms statues (& grave) around vienna <3

[rqnarok]

LATCH | pervy!old man!logan x fem!reader

summary: you come up at logan at night and he finally gives in to his desires. 

content warnings/tags: smut, mdni! little to no plot. old man!logan. unspecified age gap. soft dom!logan. sub!reader. pervy!logan. pet names (kid, kiddo, little girl, princess, etc). logan calls himself ‘old man’. fingering (f receiving). innocence kink. not proofread. wc: 1,5k

Logan Howlett is not a good man. 

“I’m not a good man, sweets.”

He has not been a good man in years. 

Still, when he scoops your sobbing figure in his arms on that day at the X-Mansion, he feels like a good man. 

“C’mon. Let’s go, kid. I’ll take care of you.”

Ever since then, you look up to him as if he is some kind of savior. A hero. A good man. 

And he starts to believe that. 

At first, it started oh, very casual—innocently. By working himself to death for the sake of your comfort. Earning money so that he could see that smile on your pretty face when he gives you gifts: new dresses, books, food—anything you want, really. He’d give it to you.

You walk up to him one Friday, showing your brand new sundress that you bought using his money, “Logan! It fits me so well, don’t cha think?”

The sight of you twirling around and giggling in front of him is enough to be his bad-day-cure, “Spin one more time, princess. Don’t have my glasses on.” 

He lies. He just wants to catch a glimpse of your cottoned panties in the process. 

Logan perceives himself as a sick fuck when he starts seeing you in that way. But hey, he did say that he is not a good man, right?  

He tried to control it, he really tried. Composing himself and creating some moral values in his head in an attempt to be in charge of his corrupted desires. 

But Logan forgot one simple thing: he can control himself all he wants, but he could never control you. 

You may be content but you are far from stupid.

It takes you months to perfect this mastermind plan—or so you call it. This mischief came into you when you decided that you had enough of Logan and his games. You know he yearns for you and you feel the same way, too. 

He peeks over you so… hungrily and thinks you wouldn’t notice? 

When you confront him about it one morning, he nonchalantly brushes it off by letting out a dry chuckle and mutters something around, “What ya’ talking ‘bout, kiddo? Go ‘head finish your breakfast.”  

But you know! You always catch his yearning gazes and… hear him over the shower one time. Moaning and grunting your name when he thought you were out buying the weekly groceries. It upsets you that he does not give in. 

So then, you concluded that you will determine to bring his temptation up to the surface and break his poor self-control through this little contemplation of yours. 

It takes a while to gain your courage and when you finally creep up into Logan’s room, the clock on the wall ticks at half past two in the morning. 2:30 AM. 

Logan said he’d take care of you, right? Said he’d do anything for you, right? Well, you need him now, “Logan? Logan? It hurts.” You whisper into the chilly air as you shake him up from his deep slumber.

And y’know, he’s a tired old man—so it takes him a while to wake up. He grabs his glasses from the nightstand beside him and slides them right on. When Logan sees you standing sleepily before him in your nightie gown, Good Lord. 

“Hey, hey—what’s goin’ on, princess?” You’re all teared up and your lips are bitten red. You look heavenly in the shaft of moonlight that slips through the window and into Logan’s bedroom. 

Your actions speak for themselves as you make your way onto his lap and nuzzle into his greying beard. “Tell your old man what’s got you so upset. C’mon.” He wants to take a good look at your face but you are so latched to him—snuffling into his broad shoulder all gloomy and wretched. 

“Hurts so bad.” You repeat yourself as your arms make their way around his neck. “Hurts, Logan.” 

“Hm? What hurts?” 

Pure silence as your little fingers wrap around Logan’s wrist and place it on your knee. Then, you’re guiding him up up up and he knows where this is going but he could not stop it. 

Fuck. He curses himself. Should’a know you’d pull some shit like this.

Finally, you stop his large calloused hand on top of your pussy. It’s heating up. Logan can feel the warmth of your cunt through your thin white cotton panties—his middle finger twitches with the urge to palm you. But no. That’s not what a good man should do. He tries to remember all the moral values he has created in his head while he sighs deeply and closes his eyes. 

“Kiddo-”

“Want to cum, please, Logan.” You take his face in your hands in the way that you always do and his hand is still on top of your clothed mound. “Please…! You said you’d help me, take care of me. I’ll be good, promise. Please.” His eyes open and he looks at your big eyes then your lips then your eyes again. That’s when you know you had him. “Hurts.” 

With half-lidded eyes, you watch Logan lose his composure, “Yeah? You’d be good f’me?” His head goes forward as he pampers your face with gentle kisses and you gulp because you don’t know what to do now. 

“Why don’t you lay down and let me take a look?” 

His scent combination of beer, whiskey, and cigars lingers around you as you rest your aching body on his bed. Looking up at him all mesmerized and lust-filled. 

Logan tries to soften his features for you. He thinks the heave of your chest moving up and down, up and down is one of the most beautiful things he has ever seen. He said he’d take care of you and that’s all he’s doin’ now. Taking care of his pretty baby. 

“C’mon. Open up to your old man.” He says, patting the sides of your thighs to part. And you did what you’re told, revealing the wet spot of your panties, and Logan curses. Mutters something under his breath. 

“You’ve been touching yourself here, Little Missy? That’s what got you dripping?” You throw your head back and huff a breathy ���ah’ at the feel of his big fingers rubbing circles along the slick. Logan wants you to sing for him, “Use your big girl words, c’mon.” 

“Y-yes! Been touching myself…” Your red cheeks heat up at your own answer, suddenly feel so little. Logan hums deeply at your reply, hooking his fingers at one side of your panties and pulling them aside. Oh, he can tell. “Mhm.”

You were in a moment of bliss until he stopped his movement and brought your panties back to its original place, “Show me.” 

“L-Logan…” you respond by shaking your head erratically. Nononono— this isn’t a part of your plan. This becomes humiliating. No way. 

“What d’ya mean no, princess?” Logan grins—he knows you’re playing something and he is not going to lose so easily. “You want me to take care of you, yeah? Gotta show your old man what you were doin’ so he knows what he can do.” 

Well, he is not wrong. You let a huff defeatedly and roll yourself onto your front, shoving one of Logan’s pillows between your plushy thighs. And Logan is bewitched and hypnotized and fuck, so hard. His cock sticks up in his boxers briefs it hurts. 

Through his lens, he attentively watches every move you make: how your nightie gown hikes up to your chest and reveals a glimpse of your breasts, how you roll your hips in circles, how you throw your head back up facing the ceiling. The noises you make—sounds he not-so-accidentally heard when he passes your room at night when he comes home from work. This is what you've been doing? 

“Aight’. I know the problem is, sweets.” You slow down your movements as you gaze at him all doe-eyed. He places his palm on your back to still you. Your head lulls back and forth as you wait for his guidance. 

“You need something inside. Have you had something inside, baby?” He turns you to him oh, so delicately as if you are something fragile. 

You shake your head slightly at his question, suddenly embarrassed. Logan is so hard at this. He can't hold back anymore. “I see. ‘S alright, little girl. Lean on top of me. I’ll show you how it’s done. Y’ just need to trust your old man, yeah?” 

And you do. You always do. You love him. 

He smiles down at you, showing the wrinkles and scars on his face. “I love ya’. Give me some sugar first. Let me kiss ya’.” 

The kiss is more than just a distraction. It’s a repetition of him saying I love ya’ through his actions. What comes next is new to you, his large fingers probing at your entrance as you hiss and whimper and sob. Logan eases you open while kissing your inner thighs, letting you feel his scruffy beard. Raining you with his sweet praises, “Oh, that’s a good girl, alright. My sweet girl.” 

Then it leads you to it. The main purpose of your plan here in the first place. 

The clothes you both had on are thrown all over the floor as he hovers above you, taking off his glasses—placing kisses everywhere he can reach. “Y’want it?” And the tip of his cock finally nudges between your folds in an aching stretch and you mewl.

“Your old man’s gonna take care of you.” 

He always does.

[bunnyinvanilla]

Sugar daddy!price x fem!reader (bar owner series)

🎂 warnings: suggestive at the end, minors dni please, laaaarge age gap (price is in his 40s and reader is 21) <3

if price found out you haven’t been eating since breakfast this morning and are currently starving, he’d be mad. Not at you, but for you. so, like a sweet, good little girl that wished not to burden him with concern, you rush behind the counter, to the back storage room next to his office — a quick snack, that’s what you’re going to indulge into.

your hands carefully dig into your backpack, and as you take out the piece of strawberry shortcake you bought on the way back from college, you make a little hop on the spot — barely able to contain excitement.

your fingers work hastily to remove the paper and plastic from the box, and the scent of sweet, sugary whipped cream and strawberries fill your nose. You smile to yourself as you gather some whipped cream with your finger and bring it your lips.

you scarcely contain a silent moan when the sugar melts in your mouth like a cloud of sweetness, as if heaven itself decided to reveal its secrets.

“gosh it’s so good” you murmur, bringing another whitened finger to your lips, mouth already half filled with the previous bite.

“oh you are indeed”

you startle in your own tracks when you hear the low, deep voice from behind you, like a little bunny getting caught feasting on a farmer’s carrot land.

turning towards the door, you find john, his imposing, muscular figure looking down at you with his signature lazy, amused smirk. Your eyes fall on his flannel shirt, the first buttons are languidly left untied, allowing you a stolen glance of his hairy chest, his pectorals that make your mouth water as much as the long forgotten piece of cake in your hands.

dumbfounded, you blink up at him twice, swallowing down the remaining mushy cake you stopped chewing on upon seeing him. Your cheeks grow red, sunrise reflecting on them with how bright and warm they look.

“Sir, uhm…i was, i was-“ you struggle to compose yourself, lowering your hands as he slowly begins to strade over you, the familiar scent of cologne and tobacco mingling with your vanilla perfume.

“hungry? can see that, angel,” he whispers, clearly entertained by your shyness. A lazy, seductive smile appears on his visage like a natural decor, one you’ve never seen him not wearing since meeting you.

once he’s close enough to tower over you, his graying, dark beard catches your attention, his mustache and salt and pepper hair, the way the muscles of his hairy forearms bulge with every move, everything about him screams strong masculinity, control and dominance.

he lifts up a hand towards your face, and you hold your breath as he uses his calloused thumb to wipe some whipped cream off the corner of your glossed lips. He brings the digit to his own mouth, licking the cream off his finger — the sight makes the pit of your stomach twist, a warm knot tightens in your belly and roots all the way down between your thighs.

you have to slowly place the cake down on a nearby surface otherwise you’d make it drop.

he licks his mustache, his sharp, intense eyes fleck to you, studying silently and carefully every single reaction he could get and read off you, “it does taste good though doll, you’re right,”

his voice deepens, a baritone that sounds gruff and heavy, and you involuntarily hide your hands behind your back, gently holding onto the edge od the table. With a slow, deliberate movement, he brings his licked finger down, underneath your skirt, and presses it against your clothed clit.

as if a spark shot through you, you almost squeak, a muffled whimper leaves your lips, an unfamiliar sound that your own ears don’t recognize. He keeps his eyes on you, lid and thin, as he slowly brushes it over your panties,

“but I’m sure when I finally get a taste of you, you’ll taste even sweeter” his words sound like a growl, an impatient promise.

he knows you’re a sweet, young, inexperienced, untouched girl, and as much as he was a gentleman, as much as he wanted to handle you cautiously, like a porcelain doll that could break in a heartbeat and needed the best care and attention, he almost took you right there when you gave him those doe, shy eyes.

“I know you’re impatient, sweet girl, but daddy will make it worth the wait”, he thinks you deserve more that a stolen moment in the midst of the chaos, of a working day, and he knows you want him to be rough, to be hard on you. “let daddy take you out to dinner tonight, and then you can give this old man some sugar, mmh?”

you can only nod, words stuck in your throat unable to come out, but your eyes gleam in the softest and most innocent way, you don’t know if you want to drop to your knees, and beg him to do whatever he wanted, or to grab your piece of cake back and hide behind the counter.

bunnies were shy creatures, eager for affection, love and attention but timid when under their owners’ loving gaze. If you weren’t careful, they might just hop away and hide shyly.

..but a little bunny like you needs to be trained into being the perfect, sweetest good girl first. And he is a man of discipline, he knows how to wait.

[gill-sans]

[sturniolohouse]

Closer to you -M.S

A/N: Hiiii! Thank you for all the love on my last story. I had a lot of fun writing it. I don't know how consistent I'll be but here's a little something for now

summary: matt just wants to spend time with you after a long day.

warning: cursing? kinda suggestive comments idk grow up

word count: 1.8k

--

"Your beard tickles," I giggle with Matt lying on top of me, his face buried into my neck.

He playfully sinks his teeth into the crook of my shoulder and I squeal at the shocking gesture. He chuckles lowly at my reaction and I lightly swat his shoulder, trying to roll him off of me.

"You're crushing me. You may weigh less than me but you're heavy," I shove him off and he finally rolls off but takes me with him, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me on top of him.

"I'm going to crush you now," I protest trying to get up but he pulls me down once more.

"I think I can handle it." He wraps his arms around me, having no choice but to lay my head on his chest.

"C'mere, I barely saw you today. Just wanna lay here with you like this a little while longer." He mumbles, kissing the top of my head and running his hands up and down my back.

"Didn't you have fun with your brothers today?" I ask, mainly teasing him as we were only apart for less than a day. I had seen him in the morning before they left for their meeting at the warehouse.

"Those goofs are a pain in my fucking ass." he snarls and I poke him in the ribs.

"Be nice." I tell him and he sighs.

"I'm joking. It was nice. I guess," He corrects himself. His hands sneak their way under my sweatshirt then under my tank top.

"Matt..." I warn him and he squeezes my sides.

"Yes..." He mocks and I can hear the grin on face. 

When I lift my head he's got smirk on his face as his hands lower down past the waistband of my pants. He goes for a handful of my ass before I stop his movements and give him a stern look.

"Matthew, your brothers are home." I scold him softly.

"Don't 'Matthew' me, them being home has never stopped us before." His eyes widen playfully as he calls me out.

"Yeah, when they were asleep. But they are both very much awake right now and could god forbid walk in," I defend getting flustered, heat rising up my neck and pooling into my ears.

“You know there’s this thing called a lock? I have one on my door. Use it quite often.”

“Yeah and risk one of them hearing something?” I shudder and he smirks at my flustered appearance.

"So, what I'm hearing is...later?" He raises his eyebrow and I roll my eyes, pulling away from his grasp. 

"Chris mentioned something about wanting to watch a movie tonight when you guys got in before." I change the subject, readjusting myself and sitting up on his lap instead.

"Fuck that, we're not leaving this room." He grips the tops of my thighs, playing with the string of my sweats.

"I had already told him yes..." I hesitate and fidget with my bracelets, waiting for him to blow up.

I peer up and see him with an arm over his eyes as he regulates his breathing. I stifle my laughter and watch him compose himself.

"Of course you did." He says sarcastically, waving his hand out dramatically.

"He sounded really excited," I reason with him and he rolls his eyes once more.

"You know what's gonna happen right? We're going to go into the living room, argue over which movie to watch for an hour and then Chris is gonna go on his phone the entire time, not paying attention to shit. All while you and Nick whisper and giggle and text each other from across the couch while I sit there watching a fucking movie I didn't want to watch in the first place." He rambles with wide eyes.

"C'mon it's just one movie." I rub his chest and he grabs my hands in his, halting their movement. 

"I don't care. I was with those idiots all day. I drove them all over the city, Chris wanted to thrift but then realized he was hungry, so I had to get him food, but then oh no, Nick wants happy ice first so we had to go to happy ice. And all I wanted to do was get a new pair of jeans, film our video and go home to spend time with you. But now because you feel bad for Chris, we have to sit and watch a shitty movie the kid's not even gonna see." He winds himself up and I tilt my head to the side, giving him that look.

"No, do not give me that look. You're not going to make me feel bad this time, sweetheart." He shakes his head, standing his ground. 

I continue to stare at him and pull my hands out of his grip, rubbing my hands up and down his chest again. 

"I'll...make you cookies," I smile softly, and he stares at me blankly. "Snickerdoodle..." Still nothing.

He extremely stubborn so this will take some bribing.

"Alright, I won't make you listen to Taylor Swift in the car, even though I know you secretly like her music." I say and he laughs this time, shaking his head.

"Kid, stop."

"I'll give you a kiss? A proper one. You can even touch my ass or grab my tits. Both even." I try to think of more things and he continues not to budge, though I can see his eyes shimmer with temptation.

"Wow, not even an ass grab will win you over?" I say with deep concern and he chuckles again giving me a little shrug.

"Okay, okay. Fine. I'm just gonna go out there and watch the movie and you can stay in here by yourself since you're too cool." I get off of him and his jaw drops. He sits up on his elbows.

"Hey, woah. You'd seriously leave me to go hang out with them?" His voice cracks as he looks at me in disbelief.

"Yup!"

"This is fucking ridiculous." I hear him mumble under his breath as I put my slippers on and open the door.

"Have fun sulking," I close the door behind me.

I walk out to Nick and Chris serving themselves mac and cheese in the kitchen. I greet them before grabbing some goldfish from the pantry and a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Where's Matt?" Chris asks shoveling a spoonful of mac and cheese into his mouth. Realizing it was too hot, he fans his mouth and blows out air to cool it down.

"He's in the room. What movie are we watching?" I keep it at that, walking over to the living room and taking a seat in the right corner nook of the couch.

"He's such a loser," Nick comments before sitting beside me and grabbing the TV remote.

"Nick, give me the fucking remote." Chris motions him while taking his own seat at the end of the couch.

"No, idiot, eat your food."

I was able to convince them to watch one of my favorite movies, 50 First Dates. Nick was on board right away but I had to win Chris over.

"Bro, no way. I'm not watching a chick-flick." He goes to grab the remote from Nicks hand.

"Chris shut up, you're not even going to watch it," Nick calls him out, putting the remote out of his reach.

"Yes I am," He argues back.

"Adam Sandler and Rob Schneider are in it." I speak up and he sits back.

"Fine."

Twenty minutes into the movie I hear Matt’s door open and then his footsteps down the hall. I turn my attention away from the movie to see him walking over with his black hoodie pulled over his head.

I knew he’d break eventually.

"Look who decided to join-" Chris starts.

"Shut the fuck up."

When he reaches the couch, he leans down pulling my legs up and over his lap as he takes a seat directly next to me. He wraps his arms around my middle, nuzzling his head into the crook of my neck.

Although rare, Matt has no problem cuddling or hugging me in front of others. It's usually kissing or gross sweet talk we avoid displaying. We just prefer to keep that private for everyone's peace, including our own.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders pulling him into me, scratching the nape of neck lightly with my fingernails and playing with his overgrown hair.

"Oh I’m gonna puke..." Chris comments from beside us and Matt flips him off without a word.

"Watch the goddamn movie and leave them alone." Nick snaps at him.

Matt melts into me as I continue to scratch his scalp and he draws patterns on my hip with the hand he snuck under my hoodie.

Not even halfway into the movie I look over at Chris and see he’s on his phone. I nudge Matt slightly to bring his attention to it and he shakes his head.

“What did I fucking tell you,” he says lowly and I giggle.

“Chris, you like the movie?” I call out and he snaps his head in my direction.

“What? Oh yeah, it’s great.” He puts his phone down beside him.

He gives me a tight lip smile before looking over at Nick and I could already see the idea pop into his head before he tackles him in a hug.

“Get the fuck off of me. What is wrong with you?” Nick shoves him off, his eyes wide.

“I just love you,” Chris shrugs, going to tickle Nick’s side but he catches his wrist, twisting it slightly causing Chris to cry out in pain.

“You’re an idiot. Let's keep our hands to ourselves,"

“I’m getting ice cream, do you want?” Matt whispers to me and I immediately nod. He kisses my jaw and pats my legs so I lift them off his lap.

He quietly goes into the kitchen and discreetly takes out the pints of ice cream and serving them into bowls for us.

He pads back over, tapping the bowl on my shoulder to get my attention before I grab it.

This catches both Nick and Chris’ attention.

“There’s ice cream?”

“Not for you.”

—

Everyone had gone to their rooms after the movie and Matt couldn’t get us back to his room fast enough.

"It wasn't that bad." I say pulling the comforter back and sliding in next to Matt who’s already shirtless and under the covers.

"Yeah, yeah." He puts an arm under his head and extends his arm for me, wanting me close.

"You're such a grump." I roll my eyes. turning towards him and moving to lay my head on his chest.

"I just want to be able to spend quality time with my girlfriend without our plans being infiltrated by my brothers." He wraps his arm around me, lightly stroking my shoulder with his fingertips.

"Is that such a crime?" He presses softly and I shake my head.

"I suppose not." I sigh, "We could...go away?" I suggest after a beat of silence and he hums.

"I like the sound of that, keep talking..."

"You and me, the cape, being in nature, alone in a cabin for a week, no interruptions..." I trail off, tracing patterns on his stomach.

"Sweetheart, you had me at the fucking cape."

[lxvvie]

Freely Using Price:

Price, who's so used to holding the reins of leadership, uses this as an opportunity to cede control to you because heaven knows he desperately needs it.

Using Price to satisfy your... cravings. Sure, a lollipop, some gum, or something else sweet would do the trick, but you're also due for something savory. There's nothing quite so wonderful as seeing the composed John Price damn near lose it as you suck his dick.

Similarly, satisfying your oral fixation while making Price work. Or while he's talking on the phone. If he so much as even moans, you threaten to stop right then and there. Testing his resolve while getting yours in the process? How mean of you, sweetheart. 😈

Freely groping Price. Everywhere. Because you're fascinated by his burly body. You're nice enough not to do it in public... too much. You argue that you can't help yourself but you both know it's bullshit. Like what you see, sweetheart? Well, it's yours for the taking. ❤️

Needing to cum so bad that you shove shit off his desk, prop yourself on it, grab Price by his hair, and shove him face first into your crotch. Price going to town, making your thighs tremble and you have to bite down on those moans lest everyone hears. Price keeping your cum on his beard, and you wonder if people are wondering why it's so... shiny? It's because he loves to keep his beard nice and moisturized, darlings.

Calling Price when you're away from each other and making him stroke that cock of his. And you want to hear EVERY. SINGLE. NOISE. You got that shit on speakerphone.

Similarly, also calling Price while he's busy at work and masturbating for him. And no, he can't touch himself. You tell him everything you want him to do to you and when he offers to come to you and make it a reality, you say... no. You want the frustration to build. And he gets frustrated.

Punishing Price when he works too much. And too hard sometimes. Your Cap'n needs rest and you're gonna give it to him. Some good ole TLC ranges from cockwarming to some old-fashioned edging to bending him over the desk and—people heard that last one. Whoops. 👀

Making sure that everyone (and I mean EVERYONE) can see those very beautiful and very big hickeys you left on his neck. It's just another Tuesday for him.

[maroonpascal]

I think he knows

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you’re bored at home and you prepare a little surprise for your man

Warnings: 18+ smut, MDNI, age gap, no outbreak!au, soft!joel, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), swearing, spanking, coming untouched, cursing, use of pet names (my girl, babe, babygirl, angel, my love, good girl, princess), use of “slut” (just once)

Words count: 3.4k

The only one you’ve ever been with and then only one you would want to be with for the rest of your life; no one knows you as much as he does, your favourite clothes, favourite drink and favourite… positions.

You came home earlier that day, and after a shower you decided to put on the blue lingerie, Joel’s favourite. Because If he knows what your favourite things are, well you definitely know his. A glance at the mirror as you’re clipping the thighs to the blue laced garter belt, and everything looks in place, biting a bit your lip thinking of how that set is gonna be stripped off of you as soon as he will set foot inside the house; it’s not that cold, so you just grab one of his plaid shirts and wear it buttoning it up, leaving though the last buttons open, part of your chest visible with a shadow of the blue lace under. You try to do everything to keep yourself occupied, but having prepared that way for him already got yourself aroused at the thought of what is gonna happen when he’s gonna see you in that tempting set; and there it is, feeling becoming already wet, not daring to touch yourself but closing your legs as you’re on the couch, trying to read but everything you can see on the pages are the words that are gonna fall from Joel’s lips. You check your phone, shouldn’t be too long before he’s gonna be home but that wait is already driving you crazy, more than once having to stop your hand from going down.

You get a tingle when you hear the keys at the door, closing your eyes for a moment and breathing deeply, trying to look composed and not like you had just slipped your hand down your panties, the book ending on the floor.

You hear the water rushing in the kitchen, Joel washing his hands, and then the steps leading to the living room. And there he is, looking effortlessly beautiful in the light of the dying day, silver hair shining and his eyes catching you there on the couch.

“Hey, how’s ma’ girl?”, his deep voice reaches you, his look softening as he sees you in that shirt of his, kissing you already on your lips, beard tickling you. “Good, you see something familiar on me?” You already tease, and the fact that he has no idea of the set makes you even more aroused.

“I see it,” he beams, a hand touching the hem of the shirt, “Looks better on you than me.”, his fingers go up, lingering on the thigh, covered by the black thighs. He goes upper, gasping when he comes in contact with the surprise that you got him. His eyes goes down, rising upper the shirt and revealing the little blue stripes clipped to the thighs, “Oh what you got here, babe?”, he asks the rhetoric question, you smirking up at him, “Find it yourself, I think you’re gonna like it.”

He smiles, you laying back on the couch, letting him start opening the buttons of that shirt. He does it with an almost painful slowness, taking in every inch of your skin that he is letting uncover, starting from the top and a low moan leaves his lips at the sight of that blue lace bra, hugging your shapes perfectly; your heart races when you feel his hand landing on the centre of your chest, smoothing it then on both your breasts, his other hand working on the rest of the buttons. His hands leave your body for a moment when the buttons are all undone, that set shimmering under the orange light of the dying day, and you see that light that you know far too well in his eyes, that light he has when he’s thinking about all the things that he could do to you.

“Fuck, look at you, takin’ all my breath away.” He lets out, you smiling knowing the power that you have on him, that power to bring him to his damn knees whenever you want to, because there isn’t anything that he’s as happy to do in his life as pleasing you in all the ways he can.

His hands smooth on your shoulders, under the shirt, making it fall so that now you have nothing but that set on you, oh and the set of thighs, which he unclips, hands grabbing your skin as he pushes them down.

You widen a bit your legs, while caressing yourself on your chest, and he takes off the jacket, remaining with another plaid shirt of his, before setting himself between your legs, the contrast between your bare skin and his clothes, jeans grinding on your delicate skin. You pull him in a kiss, hand going behind his head, getting lost in those curls, keeping him closer as he pushes his hips against you; you can feel his excitement, moving your hips back, creating a nice friction between you both. Joel leaves your lips, now going lower, hands cupping your breasts, and lips tracing them; he takes your left nipple visible under that lace between his fingertips, pinching it and you moan at that, the little pain already igniting all your senses. His kisses get lower, hands shaping your body, until he reaches the garter and pulls it down, now his look only on that lace that is barely covering you.

You see his expression changing though, and that is when you know that he’s noticed the visible wet stain on the tissue.

A hand goes directly cupping you there, your cunt twitching at that, “Touched yourself before I came home?” he starts, pushing the panties aside and looking at the tissue, and you don’t even have to answer, it is all there. You bite your bottom lip, and there isn’t even a reason to not look guilty, you wouldn’t even know how to not to, it is written all over your face, and your panties too.

“Babygirl couldn’t wait a little longer, already thinkin’ about the way I would have fucked you in this set?” His low deep voice reaches you, as you’re just able to swallow your saliva, in trepidation for what it is gonna entail. Well, you already know.

And you can't wait for that.

“Yes,” you challenge him, Joel not expecting you to answer, stopping his touching on you, you getting a little up on your elbows, “Couldn’t think about anything else, but you.” Your seductive voice feels like honey to him, but it’s not gonna sugarcoat what is gonna happen next.

“Ain’t you a little slut.” Words that are followed by a little but firm slap on your cunt, you moving your hips to that, desperate for that touch. You don’t even flinch, you just look like that’s what you really want.

“You know what to do know.” He instructs, and you twirl your hair still smiling, knowing that it is driving him crazy how you enjoy so much what is gonna happen next; you turn, elbows on the couch, knees well pointed on the couch, and ass up.

“Attagirl.” He satisfyingly says, you feeling the rough jeans on the back of your thighs, brushing on your skin. A hand goes up on your back, reaching the back of your neck, then going lower again, moulding that skin under his palm, you relaxing at that touch that you know so well, and knowing what is coming when the hand goes to cup your cheek, playing with it before a spank is delivered to it.

You whimper lightly at the sudden contact, and you would love to touch yourself to that, but you keep your hands where they are, learning the lesson (you know that you’re gonna break it other hundred times to end up in that position).

A second hit is delivered to the left cheek, the contact being followed by his calloused hands sprawling on your ass, massaging it and you feel his lips kissing each cheek, that tenderness such a contrast to the firmness he delivered those spanks with.

“Can my girl take a couple more?” you feel his voice on your skin, there on your hip, kisses all over your skin and you nod. He sees you nodding but he taps the hip with his finger anyway, “Need to hear it, babe.”

You take a big breath, “Yes, I can.” You say firmly, lips brushing more on your hips and then on your ass, “Good girl.”

The third one lands on your skin, firm as you like it, and as strong as his hand can deliver, a hand immediately massaging it. He likes doing that, but you know how much he’s always careful to not hurt you too much, always giving you breaks to prepare for the next one and you think that contrast in him is probably the thing that you love the most. You’re lost in these thoughts when the next one hit, you whimpering a little more just because of how your mind had wandered.

The familiar tender touch goes to mend the hit, soft as if that hand hadn't just spanked you.

He spreads a bit further your knees, and a hand goes again over the centre of your panties, that cold wetness sticking in the panties even more than before, now even more aroused after that spanking.

“Last one.” To which you respond with a loud yes, and where it gets delivered leaves you without breath.

His hand has landed right in the centre, on your cunt, the obscene sound of the wetness filling the room, pain igniting you even more. “Fuck.” You cry, legs almost shaking, his hand going to cup that centre, that wet tissue under his palm, and you almost squirm, trying to catch your breath.

The panties get pushed to one side, “Oh fuck me.” He exhales seeing how wet you are, dripping for him and him only.

“Like what you see?” You tease him once you got your breath back, and all you get in response is his finger going between your slick folds, dividing them, a knuckle pushing against that wetness.

Thumbs go spreading you even more open, the cold air hitting you, but it is soon replaced by his breathing, “So much, you can’t even imagine it.” He lets out before diving in you, lips kissing you there and you moan loudly, arching more your back and so you’re spreading even more your legs for him. He licks and kisses, then brushing his finger on you, touching you almost delicately until he reaches your clit, fingertip pressing there and circling it as he goes back to make love to you with his mouth, obscene kisses being left there. A high pitched scream leaves your lips when he presses his tongue into you, warm and wet, shutting your eyes at that pleasure. He twirls his tongue, as you push your hips even further, the stimulation already sending you over the edge; the shape of his nose brushes on you as he goes deeper, and it’s all so much, your heartbeat racing.

Fingers trace from your clit to your soft plush, his lips leaving you as he takes back his breath, letting his fingers moving over you, but still not inside you. And you want that, you want it so much and so desperately, that you don’t even realise you just said it out loud.

“What’s that my princess need?” He lavishly asks, his voice so much deeper, his other hand brushing on your back; “Repeat it, babe.” He insists, seeing how you’re just muffling those words against a pillow of the couch.

“Want your… your fingers.” You whimper, trying to keep up your knees, even though they’re so close to give up, too much pleasure that you could just collapse on the cushions below.

“Be more specific.” He repeats, a light spank on your left cheek, you hissing at that and your body responding by getting even more wet, if possible.

“I want your fingers inside me.” You then cry, hands grabbing that damn pillow for dear life, and you can feel Joel smirking on your back, before leaving a kiss on the small of your back.

That is how he’s slowly pushing a fingertip inside of you, stretching you and slicking in so perfectly that it lets out a moan out of him, pushing until his knuckle and then almost getting it all out before pushing all back in again. A slow but deep pace is built, a second finger getting pushed in, your folds welcoming it so well; that is when your knees start to tremble though and so, lost in the whole pleasure, mind fogged by it, you search for the words to tell him that you want to lay down. Nothing is gonna happen if you did it without asking, but you just want to make him aware of that.

“Joel, I- I need to-”

You don’t even get to finish your phrase that he’s gently holding your hips and guiding them down, then brushing the back of his hands on the back of your legs; you breathe deeply, letting your body relax, before you can see him kneeling next to your face, kissing your forehead carefully, brushing your hair back, “Thank you.” You breathe, him nodding, his features bathed in that sunlight.

Your hand reaches his beard, him kissing your palm and holding it in his, brushing his thumb over it; your hand is so small compared to his, beard tickling your palm, making you smile.

The way he looks at you, the full adoration in his eyes that makes your heart flutter and your cunt twitching as you have been postponing your orgasm.

“I still want to come for you.” You utter, killing the distance between your lips, kissing him, and biting lightly his bottom lip, your taste still there, trapped on his lips and on that silverish beard.

“Turn around for me then, angel.” And you do as asked, laying with your back against the couch, your back thanking you, and you already widen your legs for him again; panties get pushed down and end up on the floor, Joel taking in the sight of those folds slicked and your cunt getting swollen, waiting to be touched and kissed again, only to finally rose.

“Alright, so where were we?” He jokingly asks, making you giggle, as he’s getting settled between your legs, laying too on the couch.

“I think that you were eating me out so good that you brought me to my knees.” And Joel loves how you got your breath back, he loves how you respond to him, how you hold your own and challenge him.

“ ’m gonna start again from that, then.” He devilishly smiles as you see his head disappearing down there, letting out a moan when you feel again that tongue on you, now caressing directly your clit, arms going under your thighs and then anchoring his hands over them, guiding them open as much as he likes to.

You thank him mentally for that, because your first impulse was to close your legs, shying away from that touch, almost denying yourself of that pleasure that is gonna make you explode real soon. Your hand reaches his, him responding by intertwining his fingers to yours, that touch being as intimate as his tongue pushing once again inside you, letting out of you a high pitched cry.

You can’t help but let the other hand reach his dust silvered hair, letting it get lost in it, soft under your fingers and when you look down it is quite a view, seeing him there between your legs; that is when he rises up a bit his head, still working on you with his tongue, and locks his gaze with yours, you melting under that look, seeing his nose with a stain shining on it, just like his moustache looks shinier with your pleasure on it. It’s outrageous and beautiful at the same time, his tongue not giving signs of leaving your clit until you’re gonna cum over it, sounds filling the room, the light outside leaving the place for the incoming darkness.

You shiver at the way the beard brushes on the inside of your thighs, knowing that they’re gonna need some soothing cream after all of this, but it’s all worth it.

Pleasure is building more and more inside of you, still trying to postpone your orgasm, never wanting all of that to ever end. You would want him eating you out for even the whole night, knowing that Joel would give it all to you, no questions asked.

He’s breathing you all in, in fact, enjoying all of that and brushing his hips against the couch, the desperate need for some contact to ease his aching length, to give himself that release that he has been postponing, just like you’re doing with yours, because actually at the moment only your pleasure exists and he can endure that, this is all about you.

Juices have wetted his beard and all his chin, him swallowing everything that you can give to him, and he gets pleasure from that.

It’s when he’s sucking on your clit, almost ravenous, that your body can’t take it anymore and you know that you can’t hold it no more.

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” you repeat his name like a mantra, like it is all that you know, the only word that your mouth can pronounce, all your vocabulary having been reduced to just one name.

“Give it all to me, baby.” He encourages you, his voice so fucking deep that you start orgasming already that, keeping it going once he places his lips over your clit again, kissing it messily, tongue making you an even worse mess. Your moans are loud, riding that pleasure, your body igniting like it’s being shocked, shaking under that touch and all your pleasure filling his mouth, those damn lips making you scream, arching your back and seeing fucking stars behind your shut eyelids.

A series of bad words leave your lips, biting your own hand and your legs shaking uncontrollably, chest going up and down so fast, heart in your neck, your ears, pulsing everywhere.

And Joel lets his head collapse on your hip, thrusting once again against the couch and finally releasing, coming untouched and with all his clothes on, such is your power on him.

You feel light pecks all over your hips, leaving wet traces, then on your tummy and upper on your chest, finally reaching then your lips and you kiss him with so much passion, both your hands cupping his face, melting in that kiss and in that tenderness that he’s giving you.

He leaves your lips to leave a kiss on the tip of your nose, making you smile softly, his adoring eyes taking in your relaxed face and reddened cheeks.

“I love you so much.” He lets out, brushing your hair behind your ear, and your heart explode even more than before, always getting the same feeling when he pronounces those words.

“I love you too.” You exhale and you let him place his head on your chest, him laying his weight on you, brushing a hand in his hair.

“God, your heartbeat, is that all for me?” He says, brushing his hand on your left part of the chest, still that bra on you.

“Yes, all for you my love.” Words fall from your lips like the most expensive velvet and you adore how he takes in every single detail of you.

“Uhm, Joel… did you come or should I do something…” you leave the words hanging , having embraced him in a hug, breaking those moments of silence that had followed your orgasm.

You see him rising himself on his arms.

“Babygirl, you got your ol’ man coming in his clothes.”

And you try so hard to not laugh, but you inevitably burst out laughing anyway, laugh reverberating the living room, him chuckling too and soon you’re both laughin, high in that post orgasm haze, seeing him duck his head; Joel goes to hide his face on the crook of your neck, still laughing and you couldn’t be more in love with him, with this man whose laugh is the most beautiful sound in the whole world, this man that if he could would give the whole world to you.

[aquariusmiller]

Sell-out

Pairing: QZ!Joel x f!reader

Summary: After a smuggler Joel and Tess were working with didn’t pay for his end of the deal, Joel captures his girlfriend, you. Tired of your boyfriend’s scheming ways, you decide to use the situation to your advantage.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, captivity, mentions of m!oc, cheating, darkish!Joel, dubcon (power imbalance, eventual consent), oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, creampie, dirty talk, slight dom/sub dynamics

A/N: Happy New Year! Decided to do something different for this one-shot and I'm excited to put it out there because I personally love reading these types of stories and I've been writing this for a while. I appreciate any feedback and enjoy these messy characters! :)

masterlist

The first thing you feel waking up is sharp pain coming from the back of your head. You move your arm to inspect it, but the weight of chains stops you, clanging against the hard floor. You quickly open your eyes to see where you are.

The room you’re in is wide, brick walls of it covered with graffiti, holding a network of pipes. You... You know this place. You’ve seen it from outside of the abandoned warehouse near the QZ, waiting for your boyfriend Lucien to finish up meeting with his smuggling crew. You always hated the types of guys coming here and the way he’d try to fit in with them, mimicking them without noticing. Most of the time, though, you’d bear with it because his line of work brought in the resources. To him and to you. This has to be the shadiest place in a wide perimeter, and it smells like it; of sweat, dried blood and rusted metal.

You raise your arms slightly and turn to look at them. There’s a pull of the heavy metal again. You see chains tied around your wrists, locked around a metal pipe. You don’t remember any of this happening, much less getting here. Your mind runs a mile an hour, trying to find an answer to the burning question – why the hell are you here tied up?

Heavy and intent footsteps grow louder until you see a big wooden door open. Your eyes widen as you see who comes out, his bearded face and stern expression unmistakable. He leans on a small metal table, staring you down. Joel fucking Miller.

Of course you know who Joel Miller is. Along with Tess, he’s one of the most notorious smugglers in the Boston QZ, feared by even the toughest of brutes. Tess is the brains, Joel is the muscle. They worked with Lucien on his most recent deal and... Oh, shit. You know why you’re here.

His expression is nonchalant, except for a subtle scowl. “Finally. You’re awake.”

You look him straight in the eye, trying not to show the fear bubbling in your stomach. You curse yourself as a tremble in your voice betrays it. “Why am I here?”

He grins darkly at the tremble in your voice, satisfied with his plan to intimidate you. “You know why you’re here.”

Of course you do. This isn’t the first time Lucien’s sleazy tactics backfired on him, yet he always thought he knew better than you. Didn’t want to listen to your advice and did as he pleased. Now you’re the one captured for it.

You decide in a split second you’ll pretend you have no idea. “No, I don’t.”

“Liar.” He says menacingly.

“What do you want?” You get annoyed and struggle against the chains.

“No use strugglin’. You’ll just hurt yourself. And I want my share.” He walks around as he speaks, heavy boots stomping on the concrete floor. You have to resist the urge to flinch at every one of his steps. “Thought you were so smart, double-crossing me and Tess.”

You glare at him, determined not to let him sense your fear. “Me? I’m not a smuggler.”

He smirks. “Oh, right. Forgot you’re Lucien’s arm candy.”

You know what he’s doing. Trying to coax an answer out of you by implying your only use is standing still and looking pretty. You won’t fall for it. You tilt your head. “Forgot you’re Tess’s muscle.”

You see a flicker of annoyance pass him at the quip before he composes himself. “The muscle could snap you in half.”

You keep glaring up at him. “Good thing. Nothing else going for you.”

He comes closer and kneels in front of you, his shadow looming over your frame. “You’re makin’ this a whole lot harder on yourself.”

You keep eye contact as he comes closer to you, his breath hitting your face, your breath speeding up from adrenaline and... His proximity. He’s so close you can smell his musk mixed with gun powder. God, not him. Not right now. You swallow.

He smirks. “What? Cat ate your tongue?”

You struggle to think as your skin warms up slightly, making part of you not want to leave. Looking away from him towards the floor, you shake out of it. The chains are tied to the pipe with a lock. If you’re lucky and he hasn’t thought this through, he could be keeping the keys to the lock somewhere on him. Joel wouldn’t, but it’s worth a try. You could also convince him to let you go. You’ve talked your way out of worse, and Joel is a pragmatic man. If you figure out what he wants, you stand a chance.

After a few seconds of running through this in your head, you have a plan of action. “I can give you your share.”

He leans a bit away to check your facial expression, determine if you’re deceptive. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah. It was a stupid idea, and I told him that. You should be made up for your struggle.” You try to keep your expression flat, playing up the “you deserve compensation” card.

He hums, smiling slyly. “You’re good. Can’t tell if you’re lyin’.”

“Well, I’m telling the truth.” You huff, genuinely annoyed this time at the predicament you’re in because of your boyfriend. “So how about we cut a deal and you get me out of these?” You raise your arms as much as the chains tying them on your back will allow.

He raises his eyebrow. “You’re takin’ this way better than I thought.”

You roll your eyes. “Not used to people coming in to save me.”

He shrugs and nods. “See...” He gets up slowly from his crouching position, walking around again. “I could cut you a deal.” He stops and looks you over, his eyes scanning your body slowly, like a predator deciding whether to play with its prey or finish the hunt. “Ain’t sure you’re gonna like it, though.”

Relief, intrigue and a bit of fear are swirling in your chest. Your voice cracks but you compose it quickly. “Go ahead. Shoot.”

He comes closer to you and crouches again, stroking your cheek with no emotion in his eyes, searching yours for any signs of discomfort. Chills prickle your skin and you’re not sure if you want to bite your lip to hold back your reactions or to spur him on. You refrain from it.

You should move to stop him. But it’s as if his gaze is keeping you in place, looking into your very soul.

“This is about sendin’ a message.” He strokes your cheek with his knuckles, the roughness of his calloused hand pleasant against your soft skin. “So you can tell me where you keep everythin’ you own, or...” He bites his lip, his eyes closing slightly with lust. “We can do somethin’ else.”

You’re breathing heavily, you heart beating quickly in your chest, leaning against the wall to get as much distance as you can from him in a desperate attempt to think clearly.

All of Lucien and your resources or... Whatever Joel’s up to? You don’t like this. You’re cornered. As much as you’re intrigued by the latter, you have a sinking feeling in your gut you’ll be forced to do it anyway. You frown in resignation.

You turn back to Joel, your tongue on your teeth in anger. “What else?” You spit out.

He smirks, aware of his position, taking his hand off your cheek. “You’re a smart girl. ’M sure you’ll figure it out.”

Thinking of your next move, you look at him frustrated. You lunge and bite the front of his shirt, keeping him in place as you try to will your chained hands to move to his jean pockets and look for the key.

He scoffs in frustration and shakes you off, pinning your shoulders against the wall. “Goddamnit-“

You slam against the wall, scowling at him.

He keeps you pinned and scoffs. “Oh, c’mon.” He smiles slyly, running his finger down the pulse point on your neck. “Afraid you’ll like it?” He leans in and whispers in your ear, his lips lightly grazing the shell of it. “You already do.”

You hate him with a fiery passion. You hate the invisible pull between you two and the way your breath is quickening.

He keeps whispering. “Smart girl. Sharp as a whip. Bet he doesn’t know how to handle ya.” He runs his hands down your sides, stoking the fire lit in you.

Your eyes shut slightly on their own accord, the sensation in your core pleasant. He’s flattering you, using your vanity against you as if he’s reading into your mind.

“I could make good use of you.” He whispers, his breath hitting your ear. “In a lotta ways.” His words are seductive, but you sense a deeper meaning. He sees tangible value in your calculating mind and survival instincts.

You should resist him. Use any tactic you can think of and try to run. But you’re curious about what he could do to you. You like the thought, and your body’s betraying you too, heat pooling low.

You’re also curious about the vision of Joel treating you like an equal. Tess is his partner in crime and you’re not sure how you’d fit in the picture. Yet, desperation for recognition Lucien never gave you lets you think wishfully for a fleeting moment. Does thinking like this make you a traitor? Weak willed? A sell-out? What devastates you is you’re not sure Lucien would care for this more than losing his supplies.

There’d likely be hell to pay either way. Hell with Joel seems like the lesser one.

So you entertain Joel. You bite your lip and turn to him slightly as you whisper. “Bet you could.”

He slowly pulls away from your ear and smiles slyly. “You’re comin’ around.”

You return his sly smile with your own. “Are you gonna make good on your promise?”

He leans in, his lips inches from yours, an invitation for you to close the distance. “You bet.”

You look down at his lips, corners of your mouth crooked into a smug smile. Temptation rises in you, pulling you in like a moth to a flame. And a flame will it be when Lucien finds out.

You lean in and kiss him. He kisses you back searingly, full of pent up aggression and desire, biting your lip softly. You moan at the slight sting, both getting lost in this desperate and carnal moment, mouth to mouth, no more space for thinking. His tongue finds your lower lip, asking for access. You grant it instantly, opening your mouth to let him explore it. You catch his tongue with yours and they glide against each other in a slow dance.

Moaning, you pull away. He grunts slightly at the loss of your lips on his. There’s a certain question in the way you look at him now that he can’t answer; how far is this going? He’s swept away in the tide of his arousal and letting it guide him.

He gets up and puts his hand on your chin, lifting it and tapping it as he speaks commandingly. “On your knees.”

You blink a few times in surprise and swallow your pride before you get up on your knees, tugging at the cold chains as you shift from your sitting position. Your core is fluttering even as you’re feeling like uncertainty is pressing down on your chest.

He smirks at your current position and tilts your head up, nudging you softly with his words. “Open wide. C’mon.”

You lick your lips as you look up at him with an expression juxtaposing what you’re feeling. Ready. In too deep, you’re seeing this through, letting him take you through the unknown. You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out.

“Eager for me, huh?” He strokes your chin tenderly, like you’re something to be handled carefully. “Good girl.”

You smile smugly with your eyes, keeping your mouth open, the last shreds of your restraint keeping you from giving fully into him.

The sound of him unbuckling his belt echoes through the warehouse interior. He slides it off, pulling down his jeans. You get a good look at the bulge straining against his boxers. God, he seems big. A bit of worry of you’ll fit him in your mouth comes over you.

He just grins at your hesitant frown and reaches for the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down. His length is bobbing on his abdomen, red and angry, already leaking precum. You instinctively tilt your head and bite your lip at the sight. His bulge didn’t fool you about his size, and of course it’s as demanding and manly as the rest of him.

He looks at you sternly. “Go on. I ain’t got all day.”

He’s taunting your doubts, and you might agree with the sentiment. You want to be so full of him you can’t think. You lick up the drops leaking from his slit, looking up at him with wide, pliant eyes.

He strokes the back of your head, sucking in a breath. “There we go.” He grips your hair and pulls you in the direction of his cock. You wrap your mouth around his tip, swirling your tongue, before you push in deeper.

He grunts. He grips your hair, his eyes shutting slightly at the sensation of your warm mouth. “Just like that, baby. So good.” He pats your cheek with his other hand.

You bob your head, setting up a steady pace. You inhale his musk as you take him in deeper each time.

He’s a mess of grunts and low moans. He grips your hair with both hands and starts thrusting into you with abandon. He hits the back of your throat and even as you gag, you close your eyes and moan, the vibration pleasant on his cock. He lit up a wildfire inside you. At this point, you’re helpless to stop it.

Even in his haze, he’s making sure to hold your head securely to keep you from falling backwards. He lets out a groan as he bucks into you, struggling to speak. “Takin’ me so well. You like chokin’ on it?”

You moan in approval. You’re getting off on being tied up and used like this, the ache in your core becoming almost unbearable. So intent on doing whatever he wants, you don’t care if it gets eased.

“’M not sure how long I can last.” He pulls out of your mouth slowly, the saliva stream connecting your mouth with his cock as he does. You open your eyes, looking up at him half-lidded, close to being completely spent. He strokes your cheek, scared he’s hurt you. “You okay?” His voice is tinged with warmth you didn’t expect.

You nod as you look into his hazel eyes, still devoid of emotion but attentive in their own way, glimpses of the man he must have been before the world hardened him.

“Where d’you want me?” He keeps stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“I want you inside me.” There’s almost a desperation in the way you look up at him, not sure if it’s for him to slide into you or to keep him giving these small crumbs of attention.

He nods as his gaze skims over your body slowly. As if he just remembered something, he stops in consideration. He orders, slight irritation at this thought ruining his fun in his voice. “Turn around.”

You narrow your eyes questioningly and hesitantly turn around to face the wall. Gripping your arm, he unties the chains around your wrists. Relief and confusion come over you. Is he going to...?

He is. You recognize the sound of keys clinking behind you before he turns the key in the lock keeping the chains to the pipe. The chains fall to the floor with a loud clang. You finally move your arms, sore and chafed by them, rubbing the marks.

Why would he let you go before you get to the good part? Wait... Guess there are invisible lines Joel won’t cross. As much as he liked the power he had over you, he wants you to have a choice in this. To know you’re doing this on your own accord, not to escape, not fearing for your life. This is just his test of that. He stands behind you for a few moments, gauging your reaction, watching whether you’re preparing to flee.

As you stand with your arms free, all your instincts tell you to run. But where to? Back in the arms of the boyfriend who makes you fear his betrayal every single day? It’s only a matter of time before his backstabbing tendencies are turned on you, you think.

To be fair, Joel is not the most reliable man to turn to next, but you decide to explore what has transpired between you further.

You turn around and look at him, his bulge still straining against his pulled up jeans, tilting your head and smiling knowingly. “Go on. I ain’t got all day.”

“Good. Thought you’d try to run.” He grins and nods, and you can see relief clearly painted on his face. “Woulda been a shame.” His voice takes on a lower and more confident tone.

He grabs your arms and moves you to the patch of brick beside the pipe you were locked to, pinning you to it. Your faces are close together and now you’re both smiling like two teenagers sneaking off to do something forbidden. He slides his tongue into your mouth again as you open it eagerly. You kiss briefly before his fingers slip past the waistband of your jeans inside your panties. He hums. “Already wet for me, aren’t you?”

You nod as you exhale in pleasure. “So wet.”

He parts your folds with his finger, not pushing in, just teasing. “Let’s see how wet you can get...”

Your core is throbbing and his touch keeps making it worse. Leaning your head back against the wall, you sigh. “Oh God...”

He smiles slyly as his fingers find your clit, rubbing teasingly. “Lucky bastard, Lucien... Gonna fuck you so hard you forget all about him.”

You look at Joel in surprise at mentioning him, too worked up to care at this point, perhaps even tempered by the anger and resentment you harbor for Lucien. Too late to turn back anyway, you think you like the way this is sticking it to him. A subtle sly smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

He takes his hand out of your jeans and begins undoing the button and zipper on them. As he does, your chest is rapidly rising and falling and you feel the heat spreading through your body, consuming you. You clutch onto his belt, undoing it once more along with his jeans and boxers. He hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down.

He taps the head of his cock to your clit, your arousal mixing. You move your hips instinctively for him to push in, but he makes sure to torment you for a moment longer, tapping it against you again.

“Joel...” You whine.

“You want it? I wanna hear you.” He pushes in just the head of his cock, closing his eyes in pleasure.

“Yes! Yes, I want it so badly. Please...” Before you’re even done begging, Joel can’t take it anymore and pushes all the way in. In one rough stroke, he’s fully inside you. Your breath’s almost knocked out and a slight sting from his size quickly turns into pleasure.

He stills for a moment, letting you adjust. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

He slides out of you a bit before he slams back in. He sets a ruthless pace, each thrust pushing your hips to the wall and hitting deep inside of you. You lean against the cold brick, your lips parted and your eyes half-lidded, moaning. It’s almost animalistic, the way you’re both losing your bearings in this dirty warehouse.

“Atta girl. Take all of me.” He picks up speed as he presses closer to you, taking your nipple between his fingers through your shirt and pinching it, his voice husky and low. “Who’s fucking you harder than he ever did?”

“You, Joel.” The words come out of you without even thinking about them.

He grins proudly. “Damn right.” His hand reaches for your thigh, raising it slightly so it’s wrapped around his waist. The angle he’s thrusting at changes and you feel him hitting that delicious spot inside you that makes your vision blur. Now you’re a mess of gasps and moans.

He pounds into you relentlessly. “’M close. Gonna fill you up full of me.”

Too deep into the blissed out haze, you moan and nod, only thinking about how good it will feel. And it does. He buries his face in your shoulder as he fills you, hot pulses of his thick release pumped deep inside you. His cock is throbbing inside you as he empties himself. The sensations send you over the edge, and you lean your head back and moan as waves of pleasure crash over you.

He stays like that for a while as you both catch your breath. Sated and wrapped up around him, you close your eyes, coming down from the high. The tension from your initial meeting has dissolved, leaving you both light and boneless. You wrap your fingers in his hair, stroking it as he tries to gather his bearings.

There is not much to say after what’s already said and done, besides the question making your chest tighten as you both put your clothes back on. Is Joel going to brag to Lucien about this, more so – was this kind of payback his plan all along?

Something in your stomach twists at the thought that you were a pawn Joel successfully used in his game, but you don’t regret the way this has forced you out of the convenience of being by Lucien’s side.

As you zip up your jeans, your gaze falls back on Joel’s questioning expression. He can tell you’re lost in thought.

“Will you tell Lucien about this?” You say it with more bite than you intended, angry at the thought of being used.

He considers your question then shakes his head. “Won’t if you don’t want me to.” He grins. “Reckon it’s not my style anyway.”

Exhaling in relief and amusement, you nod. “Alright.” Your legs are sore as you head for the steel doors of the warehouse.

He raises his eyebrow at your abrupt exit and calls out. “We gonna see each other again?” He wants to, you can tell by his tone.

You turn around on your way out and contemplate whether you want to see him again. You connected physically but you feel like connecting emotionally with Joel would be an endless chase of something never to be caught. You’re so drawn to him. You don’t want to go. But you tilt your head as you answer bluntly with a smile. “No.”

He shrugs indifferently as the steel sliding door grinds while you open it. “Probably for the best.”