#but also good for traveling when you are low on time
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simgerale · 9 months ago
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CHAPTER ONE ; 1/3
TRANSCRIPT:
[sounds of swords clashing and rowdy cheering]
geordie: Your highness, apologies for the intrusion, but her majesty has asked me to remind you of the time.
killian: [panting] The time? And what exactly is the time?
g: Half past noon.
k: So she wished to inform me of my tardiness. Thank you, Geordie. I will be with you shortly.
---
k: Am I the only late one?
g: I am afraid so. Even the princess arrived promptly.
k: Drat. Dara will never let me live it down. The one time I lose track of the hour…
g: No matter, your highness. Soon you will be Knight Captain and have plenty of excuses for tardiness.
k: I sincerely hope not. I am perfectly satisfied with my rank.
---
luca: There you are, at last.
k: Apologies, apologies. What did I miss?
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deoidesign · 2 years ago
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Please for the love of God read my webcomic
cowboys are to pirates what werewolves are to vampires
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radio-4-is-static · 5 months ago
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WONDER BOY'S AKUMU CLUB - Yojiro Noda
#wonder boy's akumu club#野田洋次郎#yojiro noda#音楽#HELLO !#do you have a moment to talk about thee number one album of the year?#i don't really know how to distill all of my thoughts & feelings into the tags here#there's just so much😭#all i know for certain is i feel like i'm traveling at the speed of light ! so fucking giddy 💓💓#and i think i wanna spend some more time with the album before i reallllly get into it#so just a few things i'm loving at the moment#first off pipe dream ?!?! HOLY SHIT#i really was not expecting a song rooted in soul#the flair ! the magnitude ! i literally threw my hands into the air when it started playing & then again at the 2:00 mark#i'm partial to last love letter but i think this one is my fav out of all the new songs#also love the way he sings in holy day holy#じゆうぅぅぅだ���#it feels light-hearted & happy#only to be juxtaposed with sheeta which has its own lightness (as if you're floating !)#but the lyrics & distorted sounds & low register right up until the chorus create this ever-present darkness too#sooo good ! one of my other favs#waltz of karma into bitter blues 🤌 i could listen to that transition all day#the flow of stress me (shout out yuzuru hanyu) & peace yes#the beats go SO HARD in those songs i can only imagine them in the club -- the 27th is gonna be fucking awesome#andddd we finally have the full versions of hyper toy & katatoki !#(perhaps i shall say more about them after i gif the katatoki teaser video 😈)#i'm kinda in awe of how he pieced together all of these sounds & various styles of music#played around with & incorporated the beats into the songs#to make something that feels not only cohesive but original & wholly different from radwimps or illion#THIS is yojiro noda 🔥😎
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tanadrin · 6 months ago
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And God said, "Behold! I have created the fourth primordial force: the weak interaction!"
And the angels all clapped and nodded politely, and there was a long silence; and finally Verchiel, the Angel of Grace, spoke up and asked, "Er, what exactly does it do, O Fashioner?"
And God said, "What do you mean, 'what does it do?' It's the fourth fundamental force of the universe."
And Verchiel said, "You mentioned that. Um. But it's just that the other three sort of have a brand, you know? Gravity helps build large-scale structures, acts over vast cosmic distances, shapes time and space. The strong force is secret, hidden, binding together quarks and all that. Electromagnetism, very cool stuff, somewhere in between. We're all big fans of the whole magnetic monopole double bluff, very clever. But, er. What does this 'weak interaction' do?"
And God said, "It mediates radioactive decay. Sort of."
And Verchiel said, "Radioactive decay? All radioactive decay?"
And God said, "No. Just some kinds."
And Zephaniel, the Chief of the Ishim spoke, and he said, "A whole independent force just to mediate some kinds of radioactive decay?"
And God said, "Well. Not totally independent. Technically it's related to electromagnetism."
And Zephaniel said, "Wait, it's not even a real force?"
And God said, "It's totally a real force. It's just that it's one aspect of a combined electromagnetic and weak force. An electro-weak force, if you will."
And Metatron, the Celestial Scribe, scratched his head at this, but said nothing.
And Cambiel, the Angel of Transformation, said, "Maybe you can walk us through it from the top."
And God Sighed an immense Sigh, and said, "All right, fine.
"So the way it works is that all of space and time is permeated by a field that has imaginary mass."
And Cambiel said, "Imaginary mass, O Generous Provider?"
And God said, "Yes, imaginary mass. It's tachyonic, d'you see?"
And Sarathiel, the Angel of Discipline, said, "Wait a minute, I thought we agreed nothing was going to travel faster than light? All that 'c' business and the whole Lorentz transformation thing. What's happening with that?"
And God said, "Let me finish. The field is tachyonic. The particles in the field all move slower than light."
And Sarathiel had to think about this for a second.
And God said, "The point is, a field with imaginary mass has a non-zero vacuum expectation value."
And this really gave Sarathiel trouble, since he had never been very good at math.
And God, seeing this, went back to explain. "Most fields, like the electromagnetic field, have no effect when they are at their lowest energy state. It's like they're not there at all. If you give a field imaginary mass, then it vanishes only when it's at a very high energy state, and at a low energy state, it has a nonzero value everywhere."
And Sarathiel nodded, but he was confused, because he didn't understand why God would create such a thing.
But Verchiel thought he saw where God was going with this, and he was amazed.
"Truly, you are cunning beyond measure, O Only One Certainly Sound and Genuine in Truth! Only now do I understand your design! For in order to make the universe homogenous and isotropic, it is necessary that all large-scale fluctuations in temperature and mass must be evened out early in the history of the cosmos; and therefore, you have designed a field which will rapidly expand space after the Big Bang, many orders of magnitude in brief moments, and then swiftly and spontaneously decay as it gives up the energy it began with, giving rise to radiation and particles of all kinds as it does, which will condense into the material universe! It is a wonder to behold."
And God said, "What? No. I mean I did, but this isn't the inflaton field I'm talking about. This is something else."
And Verchiel said, "Wait, it's not?"
And God said, "No, I'm going to use a different field to drive cosmic inflation. The properties of this field are totally different."
And now Verchiel was also confused, and lapsed into silence.
And God said, "Like I was saying, this field is a scalar field with imaginary mass, and it does spontaneously decay to a ground state with a non-zero value. But it's not the inflaton field. Instead it combines with the W1, W2, W3, and B bosons."
And Metatron began to flip back through the pages of the Heavenly Record trying to figure out where he'd lost the thread.
And Zephaniel said, "The what bosons?"
And God said, "The W1, W2, W3, and B bosons. I'm sure I mentioned them. You know, the massless bosons?"
And Zephaniel said, "I'm pretty sure we only talked about the W+, W-, and Z0 bosons. All of which you said were going to have mass, O Owner of All Sovereignty."
And God said, "Yes, but this is how they get them, you see. Once this field acquires a nonzero value everywhere, the massless bosons interact with it and get mass. Well, some of them do. They turn into the W+, W-, and Z0 boson. And the photon."
And Zephaniel said, "…and the photon, O Accepter of Invocation?"
And God said, "Well, I did say I was going to unify the electromagnetic force and the weak interaction, didn't I? This is how. Above the critical temperature--right now I'm thinking 10^15 K, but I'm open to feedback on that one--electromagnetism and the weak force act as a single unifying force. Below that temperature, the field gets a nonzero value, you get three massive bosons to mediate the weak interaction, and the photon pops out seperately."
And Zephaniel said, "That seems… a bit overly complicated, doesn't it, O Reinstater Who Brings Back All?"
And God said, "No, it's exactly what we need. Look, that way the W and Z bosons have something to do, but the weak interaction still only travels short distances. Gravity is still the star of the show on cosmic scales, as it were. But now quarks and leptons can swap their flavor!"
And Zephaniel said, rather weakly, "Their… flavor, O Source of Good?"
And God said, "It's this new quantum number I'm trying out, to give the three generations of matter more unique identities."
And Cambiel said, "Three generations of matter? Now I'm really confused."
And God said, "I'm sure I mentioned this. You've got the lightest quarks and leptons, and then two heavier versions of each that can decay into the lighter versions."
And Cambiel said, "What do they do? New kinds of chemistry, is it?"
And God said, "Well, no. Mostly they just decay in a couple microseconds. Or even faster."
And Zephaniel began to rub his temples, and Cambiel sniffed.
And Cambiel said, "This all seems a bit ad hoc to me. Not really the stuff of an elegant and obviously ordered Creation. Why not have four generations of matter? Why not a trillion?"
And God began to grow irritable, and said, "Well, that's not really up to you, now is it? We're going to have three generations of matter, and the electroweak force, and that's that!"
And Zephaniel said, "As long as we are unifying fundamental forces, perhaps we could somehow also unify the electroweak interaction with the strong interaction, or even gravity."
And God hesitated saying, "Well, I haven't decided about that yet. I'm not sure I want gravity to be quantized, you know? Seems to take some of the geometric elegance out of general relativity."
And now it was Zephaniel's turn to sigh, and he bowed his head. "As you wish, O Possessor of Authority of Decisions and Judgement."
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sonrium · 5 months ago
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DP X DC: A Minor Drinking Problem
Phantom is a relatively new member of the JLA, but it's been a few months, and things are settling in well. He's shy and polite but is a master of the snark with villains.
Before a big mission, the all hands on deck kind, everyone is talking about scars and the crazy stories behind them to distract from the coming fight. Danny, finally feeling like he can join in the conversation with all these adult heroes, pulls off his right glove to show a pretty gnarly scar on the back of his wrist. “I got this one when I fought a guy from the Revolutionary War a few weeks ago! Didn't think he'd charge me with a bayonet.” He shares a couple more stories and scars, but only the ones that he can easily show off.
Because of stories like that and some historical depictions of Phantom from different time periods, they think he's this ancient and powerful immortal that just looks like a teenager, it wouldnt be the first time. He's powerful enough to go toe to toe with Superman, so there's no way he's actually a kid. He even sometimes has the haunted, world weary eyes that their most hardened members only get after experiencing too much. Danny, being our lovable, obliviously dense idiot, has not realized that they think he's an ancient being.
After the mission concludes -it was a rough one-, the JLA celebrate their victory with a couple drinks back at the watch tower. Danny is understandably uncomfortable with this whole situation and keeps asking, “Are you sure I should be here?” They reassure him it's fine as they pass around beers, which Danny politely declines several times. Danny eventually sees this as the perfect chance to pad his blackmail folders on his inebriated coworkers.
Anyway, as the night goes on, they have a good time, but Phantom still hasn't gotten a drink like the rest of them, and Green Lantern (or hero of your choice) really wants their shy friend to come out of his shell. So, he slams an open beer bottle on the coffee table in front of Phantom. “Come on Phantom! Let loose a little. Celebrate!”
“Dude! What the hell?! I'm 16! That's illegal!” Phantom squeaks in shock.
“We don't care how old you were when you died. It's how long you've been a ghost that counts.” Flash slings an arm around Danny's shoulders from where he’s sat next to him on the couch. Flash can't get drunk, but he also thinks it would be fun to see their uptight new member drunk.
“That's even worse! You'd be giving alcohol to a two year old!” Phantom is horrified that his coworkers are so casually breaking the law.
“But you said you fought in the Revolutionary War this morning!” Green Lantern said with his eyebrows knit in confusion.
“No, I said I fought someone from the Revolutionary War. As in, the ghost of someone from the revolutionary war!”
“You can't pull that on us. There's murals and stuff of you from thousands of years ago.” The Flash waves off with a laugh.
Phantom’s finger presses painfully hard into Flash’s chest. “I do not need to explain time travel to you of all people. My mentor hates you, and I'm STILL sent on missions constantly to clean up your messes.” Phantom's clear and low. Flash liked it better when he was shouting and not staring him down like a predator with narrowed eyes.
(This random idea popped into my head. It made me laugh, so I thought you might, too. Here you go!)
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rileyslibrary · 1 year ago
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After suffering a gunshot wound, you wake up in a hospital bed with Ghost sitting by your side. Unfortunately, the effects of anaesthesia leave you unable to recognise him and, worse, confuse him with someone else.
A/N: Fluff. Based on a request I received a while ago. Hope you like it, anon!
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A machine on your left beeps rhythmically. The taste of something metallic lingers in your mouth, and the iodine smell stinks your nostrils. Your eyes open slowly, but the bright ceiling light forces them shut again. You lick your lips and attempt to swallow a couple of times. Dry. Your mouth is dry. You need water. Your hand moves towards your face, but a low, raspy voice advises you against it.
“Careful now,” it says, and a hand gently grabs your wrist. “Don’t pull the IV off.”
You turn your head towards the figure beside you and squint. It’s a man, but your blurry vision doesn’t help you identify him. Your eyes travel to your wrist and focus on the closest part of him: a skeleton’s hand.
You try to shake your hand off his grip, but it turns out futile. Frustrated, you give up and raise your middle finger at him.
“Not my time yet,” you declare. “Fuck off.”
“Pardon?” he asks.
“Not ready to go yet,” you reply, tucking your middle finger in your palm and lifting it back up again. “And also, fuck off.”
The man releases your wrist, placing your hand gently beside you. He clears his throat and leans forward. Though your vision remains blurry, you spot what looks like a human skull with a hood over it.
“How are you feeling, love?” he asks, his tone softer.
“How am I feeling, love?” you repeat. “Did Hell improve their customer service?”
“I’m not-” The man begins but pauses. He sighs, shakes his head and rests his elbows on his thighs. “Never mind.”
“Where am I?” You ask.
“Hospital.” He replies. “You took a bullet.”
Directing your attention to your body, you feel a dull throb in your chest. You wince as your fingers brush against the bandages.
“You are joking.” You reply and slap your hand on the bed. “Why? How?”
“Well,” He says and tilts his head to the side. “You exchanged a few shots with the enemy, your gun ran out of bullets, his didn’t, and here we are.”
“My gun?” You ask, shocked. “I have a gun?”
“Several.” He nods.
“SEVERAL?” You shout. “Why would I possibly need several guns?”
“It’s your job, love.” He replies.
“My job is to have several guns?” you ask. “And shooting at people?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way,” he explains, “but it’s mainly for defence.”
“Well,” you shrug and wince at the pain. “Doesn’t look like I’m that good at defence—especially for having several guns.”
“I was really worr—”
“Water,” you interrupt and gesture at your mouth. “I need water.”
“Doctor said it’s not the time for water yet,” he replies.
“Why?” you ask, pretending to check a non-existent wristwatch. “What time is it?”
“No, love,” he replies and muffles a chuckle. “Doctor said you need to wait until you have some water.”
“You throw the ‘love’ thing a little too freely,” you mumble, licking your lips and lifting your index finger. “I’d be really careful if I were you.”
“Really?” he asks, leaning back into the chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Why?”
“I,” you say and point at yourself, “got a boyfriend, thank you very much.”
“Oh,” he exclaims and tilts his head. “Is that so.”
“Yup,” you nod. “And he can kill you.”
“Can he?”
“Can?” You say, and a smug smile forms on your dry lips. “He will absolutely, one hundred and a thousand per cent kill you.”
“Is he that good?” He asks.
“I mean,” you shrug, motioning at the bandages on your chest. “He’s much better than I am.”
“Oh wow,” he exclaims and leans forward. “Is he as good of a boyfriend as he is a shooter?”
“Far from it,” you reply, letting your hand fall to your side.
The man doesn’t speak. He doesn’t seem that comfortable all of a sudden. He shuffles in his chair, trying to find a better position, and when he does, he clasps his hands together.
“Go on,” he finally says. “Spill it.”
“Ok, so,” you begin, “first things first, he doesn’t listen to me when I want to vent, and whenever he does, all he says is nonsense.”
“The lad gives you solutions,” he snaps, “and you call them nonsense?”
“I don’t want solutions, man,” you reply, shaking your head. “I want him to just listen to me.”
“Even if the solutions he provides are literally the answers to your suffering?”
“Even then.” You confirm.
“Gotcha,” he nods. “What else?”
“Oof,” you sigh, “how much time do you have?”
“I’m immortal,” he reminds you, “plus the next reaping is in five hours.”
“Oh boy,” you reply. “Business not going that well lately, huh?”
“Not many deaths to take care of,” he spits. “I guess some people could use some serious training when it comes to their aim.”
“Speaking of training,” you say, “he’s always at work and never spends much time with me.”
“The guy’s trying to spend as much time with you as he can, for fucks sake!” he shouts, throwing his hands up. “He even lied to get you on his team!”
“How do you know he put me on his team?” You ask.
“I keep a close eye on him.” He replies.
“What did he lie about?”
“Your precision in aiming,” he jokes and motions for you to continue. “Next one.”
“I can’t think of anything else,” you reply. “Other than he doesn’t say how much he loves me.”
“You’re having a laugh now, aren’t you?” He says, and his tone feels almost threatening. “He’s showing it to you daily; offering advice, keeping you close to him, even risking the possibility of being accused of nepotism for crying out loud! He doesn’t need to say it as well for you to know it!”
“It’s just nice to hear it sometimes,” you sigh and twist a thread from the bed sheet. You turn your head slightly toward him, and he lowers his head to the ground.
“How about you?” You ask. “You have a girlfriend?”
“I do,” he confirms.
“Shut up!” You shout, widening your eyes and immediately closing them back again. “Where did you guys meet?”
“Hell,” he replies. “Right in the pits of it.”
“How is she?” You ask.
“Perfect.” He states.
“Bullshit,” you murmur. “No one’s perfect.”
“She is to me.” He says, shrugging.
“Do you love her?” You ask.
“Absolutely,” he replies, nodding slowly. “One hundred and a thousand per cent I do.”
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nightingale-prompts · 5 months ago
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The Nightingale Family-DC x DP prompt
(Shameless Addams family inspired prompt)
News travels fast in Gotham, especially in affluent circles. A new family has arrived in the city, old money at that. They had taken up residents in the old mansion overlooking the Historic Gotham Graveyard.
The Nightingales had a way of letting their presence be known. They were rarely seen in public. The eldest Jasmine Nightingale however had made waves working at the Gotham Asylum as a psychologist. She was often escorted by her younger brother Dan Nightingale. The public really started talking when Jazz was seen talking with Harley Quinn.
There were two children that lived in the Nightingale manor. They were elusive to say the least as the family didn't attend the parties of Gotham.
It wasn't until Damian Wayne got an invite from his classmate Danielle to visit their manor that someone saw the lives of Nightingales. This invite had been received after Damian carefully befriended the youngest Nightingale to investigate their connections.
That's how the Waynes ended up at a dinner party.
The manor was bleak to say the least and that's saying something in Gotham. The buildingbwas made from black stones and gargoyles perched on the roof. The garden was wilted and full of thrones that crept up the walls.
Bruce felt a sense of Deja vu as he approached the door and rang the bell. Tower bells rang out as the face of Jasmine Nightingale appeared. She was dressed in black dress pants and blazer. Her lips were painted to match. Her red hair had a striking white streak through it which had become a fashion trend since the family's arrival to girls wanting to seem mysterious.
"Good Evening. It is so nice to meet the infamous Waynes." She shook Bruce's hand. Behind her, the sounds of clanking metal was heard. "That is just my younger siblings playing. You don't you boys join while I talk to your father.
Despite only being a fresh-faced 20 year old Jazz carried herself like a confident adult. A certified genius in psychology who graduated early she also handled the inmates at the Asylum well enough that escapes are at an all time low.
"She's got it all" was what Harley said.
Bruce's admiration of the young lady was only matched by his suspicion. The house the Nightingales lived y had once belonged to the Al Ghouls. There was no telling yet if there was a connection.
He took a seat in the living room with Jazz tea already prepared. She poured two cups of black tea. Not black as in the type of tea but the color of the drink. Bruce cautiously sniffed the black liquid, it smelled earthy and acidic. Poison.
"Do you like it? I made it myself. I added the belladonna myself. It has a sweet taste so you don't need sugar. The kids have sweet tooths but we avoid added sugars. They love nightshade." She smiled drinking.
Bruce put the cup down. So they drink poison at a young age. They must be part of The League of Assassins. But why are they here?
"If you don't mind me asking. Why did you move to Gotham? Your parents-" Jazz put a hand up as she finished her cup.
"Mr. Wayne I'm sure you are no stranger to parents leaving before their time nor the concept that not all parents deserve children. Now I can't confirm or deny if that is the case for use but you can understand that it's a private matter." Jazz said sternly.
That wasn't an answer.
Upstairs Danny and Danielle played with Elle's new toys. Swords from Dan's trip to Portugal. He even sharpened them. They were currently tearing through the mansion.
Tim and Damian caught them while Danny had successfully pinned Elle to the ground.
"Dami! Help!" Elle yelled catching Danny off guard as Damian tackled Danny to the ground.
"Alright, alright. You can go next." Danny rolling Damian off him and passing him the sword. "Im taking a break."
Danny loved playing with his little sister but baby games are tiring.
"They let you play with swords," Tim exclaimed. This wasn't something he expected, sure it was normal for Damian but Damian is weird and was raised by assassins. Damian didn't do it for fun, it was training.
Damian and Danielle ran off while fencing.
"You must be one of the Waynes. Elle has been excited to have your brother over." Danny said politely if not a bit dismissive.
"Eh, yeah. Your sister said we should join you." Tim said a bit awkward. " You have another brother right?"
"Oh, yeah. He travels alot but he's relaxing right now. He's probably swimming." Danny shrugged.
Tim had heard of Danny. They went to the same school but Danny was part of a program that allowed him to come to school when he felt like it. The program is for young engineers who want to work for Wayne Industries. He mostly worked on small experimental projects. So far Danny's superconductor tech was revolutionary but impossible to replicate. Danny somehow managed to make a more effective coolant than anything they had created in the lab.
"You have a pool?" Tim knew that the mansion didn't have a pool.
"Of water? No." Danny shrugged but gave no further answer.
"I see, so what do you do?" Tim tried to sound normal like he was talking to his friends and not someone he was trying to probe.
"Anything, everything. I was going to recalibrate my telescope but I have a laser to test." Danny walked off expecting Tim to follow.
Testing was just cut a bunch of things in half. Tim got some great info on making an explosive ice canister and foam bombs. Tim made sure to get his number to hire him to make some gear for him.
The Nightingale kids were absolutely lawless. They destroyed everything in their path.
Elle had dragged Damian to her room to show off her toys. She used to travel with Dan until she started school. She picked up a bunch of items. Cult artifacts, shrunken heads, voodoo dolls, cursed puppets, knives, swords, and the homemade taxidermy Elle made from roadkill. She also had a pet dodo bird named Ernesto who had a bed next to her bed. Ernesto took a liking to Damian and sat on his head. The way he shows his affection
Soon enough Dan came upstairs to check on Elle and Danny.
"You kids, need to get ready for dinner. Sharpen your nails and teeth." He said before going back to the kitchen.
"What does that mean?" Damian asked.
"You don't sharpen your nails. Well good luck at dinner." Elle said bemused.
Dinner was...horrifying. Watching the family chat happily as they ripped apart the moving food as it came to life. Damian was actually excited as he skewered the cheese and broccoli casserole that screamed at him.
"Father, why can't we do this at our home?" He asked.
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thalwri · 16 days ago
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NOBLE ARRANGEMENT
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synopsis: with a marriage you didn't want and a terrible first impression, you weren't too sure your life with sylus would be peaceful. but what if there was a little nerve loosening component that could help?
warnings: porn with plot, smut, arranged marriage, use of aphrodisiacs, inappropriate use of evol (if you squint), mutual masturbation, oral sex over and lowkey under a table (m! and f! receiving), biting, floor sex, creampie, petnames
wc: 11,6k
a/n: I was rewatching dune prophecy (for the third time) and I felt a little creative. hope you enjoy!
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you were a lady. 
or so you were raised to be. having been brought up in the high society of the city of linkon, you knew your social purpose amongst others and you also knew you had to make a place for yourself beyond being a delectable, innocent, and poised young woman brandished for the wealthy to negotiate through joining families. you had to be a hunter; an unapproachable entity that was most desired yet most difficult to obtain.
behave appropriately, act well amongst your peers, and also know how to defend yourself against the crude wanderers that lurked within the shadows. it had been made law that every citizen was forbidden from traveling around in the dark of night due to the unsafe nature of the environment. but you were never truly one to follow the rules among others.
that is, until you found yourself fighting for your life against the very creatures the law was created for you to avoid.
your given abilities were useful for you to defend yourself but they were more impactful when partnered with another– a privilege you currently did not have. your attire, bedazzled in jewels and badges representing your awards for the late soiree you had just left, was torn and stained with your own blood and the dirt of the ground. 
you had considered that night to be your final celebration of your freedom. though you didn’t really anticipate being attacked by wanderers to be on the palate for your night. your blunting blade in hand trembled as your arms suffered from tremors of stress, pain and exhaustion. 
your breathing was ragged and your body ached. had you worn your riding attire, perhaps the battle would have fared more in your favour. you had effectively destroyed more than seven lurking wanderers, the following were stronger and larger than the last. morale was reaching a low, and your energy was not enough to sustain yet another battle without you collapsing.
though if your corpse was to be found, you would wish it was in good condition and not ruffled, so you straightened your form and held your blade as stiffly as you could force your body to. you would not lose your life piously or aimlessly. you were raised to hold a blade like a warrior adorned with her femininity, and you would die as such. after all, a death by the blade would always be better than a marriage to a man orchestrated by your stepfather. 
a foreign man, you had heard from his private meetings. a foreigner with a questionable background, having travelled multiple worlds and fought endless battles. the more he conquered, the higher the bounty on his head. the imperial council, from what the gossipers have whispered across the entirety of linkon, has done little to none to control the “beast” or the “relentless conquerer”. though from what you’ve heard their lenience was also due to him allegedly being of noble rank. he ran amok, with his blood red eyes, and hair as white as a ghost’s chilling grasp.
his iron fist ran a vast network of crows, all known in union as onychinus. like a marbled table spreading its onyx darkness across the known universe, onychinus stretched its arms into every known and potentially unknown world marking its territory and ensuring its name was remembered. ensuring the name sylus was unforgotten.
the same sylus you were doomed to marry. 
you didn’t know which god to pray to for your last battle, not that you were religious to begin with. but it was customary for anyone who held their last blade to send a prayer if they believed they near taking their final breath. so you briefly muttered your gratitudes, your repentances, and your pleas to them all hoping at least one would listen.
the heavy thumps of the wanderer drew painfully near. you solemnly opened your eyes, readjusting your grip and preparing your body to strike. your lips move rapidly as you repeat your words in a broken mantra.
“the blade pierces fear, the blade pierces fear.”
the caws of a crow disrupted your mental flow, distracting you momentarily. in an instant, a gust of darkness rushed past you with a shadow of darkness tinted with red following. the wanderer was blown back by the blunt impact of the shadow, then again. and again. until its arm was separated from its body, then one of its legs, making it topple over. 
a flash of darkness rushed past you, assaulting the wanderer in crude blows, a double light trail of red following its movements and soft, white tufts flowing with the wind as the scent of spice flowed into your nostrils. perhaps an energy-based evol? with red eyes and what seemed like white hair– it couldn’t be. no way in hell could it be.
you quickly stumbled back, hearing the crow’s noise grow louder until a loud crackle of energy and a heavy screech silenced the night. the wanderer was obliterated. literally blown into energetic dust as if erased from existence– or rather transformed and reduced to the crystal core before you.
you remembered your father– your biological father– teaching you about protocores, but you had never seen one until now. you reached for it with a shaky, bloody hand, tempted to feel that peculiar thing you’ve always wondered about but a large hand beat you to it, crushing the core to dust with the same energetic shadow. 
“best not touch what you don’t understand,” the deep voice sent chills down your spine. you blinked, whipping your head towards the source only to find a gust of falling black feathers in the air. you caught one before the rest blew far from your reach, carefully storing it on your person. a small souvenir wouldn’t hurt especially after the one you wanted was destroyed.
“what i don’t understand?” you scoffed. “says the douche bag that broke the protocore and disappeared!” 
you felt like the air got kicked out of your lungs. you deeply exhaled and leaned against the wall of a modiste. it must have been an hour since you left that soiree. your best option would be to sneak into the manor to avoid getting a telling to from your stepfather. but if he did perhaps your mother wouldn’t have to deal with him, especially in her current state.
you pushed yourself to your feet and began to walk back where you came from. you had intended to take a small walk before you returned to your estate on horseback. if you had taken the motorcycle, someone would have noticed. it wasn’t your first time sneaking out after the curfew. 
there was a quick route through the crowd of stumbling drunks that also completed their night of drinking and possible fornication, not considering the risk of being both drunk and open to the sharp claws of the nearby wanderers. it was almost like those creatures were attracted to foolishness– though to be fair, you were recently attacked.
you eventually found your horse impatiently waiting for you with a very timid and very pissed off valet. 
“i work with keeping cars safe, my lady,” he hissed, roughly handing the reins to you. “cars. not rude horses!”
“perhaps you should have been nicer,” you muttered, fumbling through the holographic screen of your watch. a high pitched ring sounded and echoed onto his wrist. “payment for your hard work, good sir.”
the valet’s mood quickly rose as he fully digested the price paid for his ‘service fee’. he grinned and quickly bowed to you continuously, thanking you for your generosity and asking for you to return with your horse again.
you smiled to yourself as you settled on the saddle, and patted your horse to start moving. the valet was still singing praises to you as the distance between the two of you grew increasingly larger. 
“like i’d ever let him touch you again, my sweet.” you crooned, stroking the mane of your horse. you checked the time and hissed in worry. it was the middle of the night and your stepfather would soon be waking up to plot and ponder in his study like he always did. 
“hyah!” your horse’s calming trot gradually transitioned into a sprint, carrying you through the late night towards your family home. you’d be there in minutes if you maintained your speed. throughout your travels you couldn’t shake off a weird feeling from your shoulders. as far from the central city as you were, you still felt like you were being watched.
one of the few interesting concepts of these ‘arranged’ marriages was that neither of partners in the wedded couple were allowed to see each other until the day of the wedding. and even those weren’t subtle. 
huge celebrations would be held to celebrate unions and from the rumours you’ve heard along with what you’ve seen, the bride and groom would have already met one another at least a month prior at some party or another event where it would be difficult to track who comes in and when.
your case was slightly more discouraging, considering you only knew of the tales laced with potential deceit and fear regarding your husband-to-be. no secret rendezvous, no hidden in plain sight meetups like all the others blabbered on about. you were going to experience the real deal of having your hand and choice in who you marry signed off by a man who wasn’t even your biological father.
and that fury was why you threw a glass of juice at him during your adornment fittings. your wedding dress was far from simple. it was adorned with precious jewels around the neckline and embroidered on your back in the shape of your family’s crest. it was more than transparent that your wedding was considered big if your stepfather was going through the expenses of ensuring your dress was extravagant, inviting multiple politically influential figures, and trying to trap you within the estate until this very day.
it was to ‘maintain your purity’, according to him. though, that was no longer a claim you owned. not since your twentieth birthday. and that was five years ago.
and that doesn’t include the other outrageous comments and demands he made. one of them– and definitely not limited to that– involved him wanting you to give him grandchildren. grandchildren. as if he would have the privilege to ever see them!
he could fuck off and get his grandchildren from the bastard kids he’d abandoned for all you cared.
“you insolent wretch–“ the old man’s hands balled into fists as he slowly rose to his feet. the maids standing on either side of the dining room shifted to the sides of the door to give you passage to run in case he got violent.
“oh, are you going to banish me?” you bitterly chuckled, not minding his impeding anger radiating towards you. you cut through your croissant and relished in every bite as if it were the most important thing in the world. “do remember my mother and i are both more than capable of handling ourselves without you.”
you absentmindedly listened to him draw a deep, heavy breath before sighing and returning to his seat. “your mother is ill.”
the fork and knife in your hands dropped onto the plate, clattering around the room’s silence like the resonating waves of a bullet firing into an empty field. your gaze slowly flickered to him. 
“and you aren’t getting any younger.” he scoffed, looking you up and down as if you weren’t known as one of the most beautiful women in high society. “you must serve your purpose to this family–“
“i believe you meant serve your personal interests.” you cut, with venom laced in your voice. 
“he means in the interest of this family and you.” a frail voice pulled you out of your angered state and dragged into momentary shock.
your mother, frail and thin, stood at the entrance to your dressing room leaning over on her walking stick. the maid beside her stood like a cowering puppy that had been swatted away. even in her state of weakness, your mother still stood strong– one of the many qualities you inherited from her. her perseverance. 
“mother,” you began, slowly rolling your next words over your tongue. “there has to be another way. we are influential and financially affluent enough to handle ourselves–“
“not enough to handle the imperial court.” your mother sighed as she slowly reached you. she raised her eyes to up to you, your form elevated by the pedestal and illuminated by the lights above you. in her eyes it seemed as though she had birthed an angel. 
“so beautiful, dear child,” she smiled softly, running her hand up the waistline of your dress until her cold slender fingers held your cheek. “your father would have loved to see you in this. he used to fantasise about walking you down the aisle.”
“he’s not here anymore,” you whispered with cracks of grief slipping through your hardened tone. or was it hatred? hatred for the fact that he left you so young, or that his best friend married your mother almost weeks after? “and he doesn’t deserve to get that chance.” without looking, she knew who you meant.
your mother’s lips quivered into a straight line. she stepped back as her hand cold on your face fell to her side. “best you get your makeup done. you have the audience of the imperial court, the people of linkon, onychinus and that n109 zone. you must represent us well.”
to hear that struck you like an iron bullet. almost as painful as it would have been had you been killed last night. you were starting to wonder if you should have laid your blade to the ground. if being consumed and destroyed by a wanderer was better than giving up your hand to an intergalactic criminal.
“you will not walk by my arm.” you hissed to your stepfather. “i’d rather dig up my father’s corpse than let you get that chance.” you hiked up your gown and stormed off into the adjacent room where the stylists had prepared the makeup for you.
the rest of the process was quiet. the stylists whispered their condolences to you, mentioning tips to help you survive should your life be threatened, some others suggesting your husband-to-be may not be as cruel as rumour says. 
your fears were etched into your face so much so that not even the prospect of being away from your family could console it. 
the stylists had dispersed for your family priestess to bless your body. the back of your wedding gown was deliberately left open for your family crest to be inscribed onto your skin temporarily. it was an olden tradition that dated back to the ages where evols had not become more common amongst humans and the sole equivalent was sorcery. 
some of the wealthier families stemmed from old sorcerers and practitioners of ancestral magic, protecting themselves through their family crests and watchwords. talismans, charms, sigils, spells, runes, the titles would vary amongst cultures but their meaning remained the same. 
protection. strength. power. a call to war. they would be granted regardless of the method.
the needle was hot on your flesh and the scent of your skin burning made of your body twitch in discomfort. the priestess, adorned in her traditional garb designed to cover her entire body, tutted at you.
“remain still.” she dragged the hot needle down your spine, finalising the process of your marking. “it will fade in a few hours. but the magic stay intact for as long as you allow it.”
you slowly stretched, feeling the stiffening pain growing on you. you swallowed the reel of profanities threatening to roll of your tongue as you turned to the priestess who was packing away her supplies.
“you were trained to fight wanderers, and honour our family like your predecessors. my predecessors.” you rushed to her and tightly held her hands. your options were slipping out of your hand like sand, making you more desperate than before. “cousin, i know of the faction that trained you– that hunters association. and you know i’m more than capable to be within your rank. take me with you.”
you could almost hear her smiling in pity. she pulled her hands away and slowly stepped back. “my destiny is tied to my position. yours is much different and much more broad.” as she turned her back to you, she placed a small coin on the dressing table. “you will do far better once you marry the dragon concealed as a crow. best of luck, little cousin.”
and alone you remained to float within your thoughts. your destiny was broader than hers? the only thing you could envision was the potential torture you’d go through once the ties were sealed. there was not much left for you to do.
the burning sting of the crest carved onto your back had run cold, a searing tingle burst through your back like gentle sparks indicating the talisman was now active. and always would be.
the bells snapped you out of your daze, ringing away the last of your freedom– or perhaps the last of your captivity. your mother and stepfather walked you to event hall of your mansion, where everyone awaited you. your mother gently kissed your forehead, whispering you luck and reminding you to maintain composure.
the large double doors swung open and melodic music silenced the crowd before you. row by row, they all rose to their feet acknowledging you more than your family behind you. perhaps it was the dress, or that you possibly held the expression of wanting to run. the last person to turn around met your gaze with his crimson eyes.
sylus.
the very sylus, leader of onychinus, fearsome conqueror of planets, was dressed in a fitted white suit stricken with embroidered red crows. a small brooch was pinned on his blazer, the ruby in the centre sparkled under the light. his eyes scanned you briefly before he adjusted his stance, silently reminding you to walk. 
you deeply inhaled and stepped forward, deliberately moving as slowly as you could to scan each present guest in the hall. dignitaries from neighbouring planets, a large group of guests dressed in red and black including some wearing masks, distant family members and friends amongst the people of linkon, and most surprisingly four counsellors of the imperial court. you had expected less.
whispers broke out behind you as the insignia etched onto your back was clearly visible. you slowly realised that it wasn’t just a protection charm for you. you carried the burning torch telling your family’s enemies to remain in their place, that you were no longer weaker than them. you decided to assign it as a call to war against your own parents– cursing them for sending you off like this.
that would explain the secret meetings over the last few months. your marriage was a deal to grant your family protection. and judging by the satisfied look on one of the imperial counsellor’s face, they also had a chip in the transaction. control? access to weapons and intel? 
but there was nothing that caught your attention more than the man standing patiently before you. for someone so menacing, he looked divine. god-sculpted face and damningly soft lips. his white hair looked as soft as a kitten’s fur. he was so tall and muscular. so beautiful too. you almost released your tension just from the sight of him. 
he reached his hand out to help you step onto the pedestal to join him and the officiator. as you stood next to him, while feeling underwhelmingly short despite wearing heels, you caught a whiff of his scent. it was a bit too familiar, almost like burnt herbs and spices.
the officiator droned on about the beauties and responsibilities that came with marriage and how the union would connect our societies more than ever. you watched him glance to your left around the same area where your parents and the imperial counsellors sat. so he was in on the stunt too. maybe not a direct beneficiary, but all rivers end up in the ocean one way or another.
“you’re observant,” the rumbles of his voice sent shivers down your spine. another thing about him that was all too familiar. “good.”
you did not respond to his comment. a young girl skipped towards the two of you, cautiously holding a white cushion holding two rings; both encrusted with rubies and diamonds but one had a larger gem in the centre. 
sylus picked the ring with the larger diamond and turned to you. he recited his vows to you, swearing his loyalty and endless care for you, among the many traditional vows a husband would make to his wife. his crimson eyes held firm on yours with a serious stare, meaning every single world– though that was the first time you met.
“you look rather calm to be marrying the douchebag that broke your protocore,” he muttered as his fingers caressed your hand before slipping the encrusted ring on you. the realisation slowly dawned upon you like the rising sun shining directly in your face. “don’t gawk, you’ll make a spectacle.”
you quickly relaxed and took his ring from the bearer to exchange the gesture. “so it was you last night.” 
his hand was large and yet well cared for and almost scarless despite his endless battles. you recited your vows, similar to his and returned his gesture, though you couldn’t guarantee that you wouldn’t try to kill him in his sleep. if he did sleep. you slipping the ring onto his finger with more cruelty than intended, inducing a pained smirk from his lips.
“definitely a douchebag.”
the officiator, after another round of praises and ramblings of loyalty and union, asked if anyone opposed the union. you had hoped someone, anyone would say something. but the silence was clear and loud. you raised your head high, concealing the slither of disappointment– no, fury brewing within you.
“then through the powers bestowed upon me, i pronounce thee husband and wife. you may seal the union.”
you could feel your heart sink. you had to kiss him. kiss a renown intergalactic criminal, kiss those soft lips, kiss yourself into a marriage you likely wouldn’t leave by choice. those soft pink lips–
he was smirking at you. smirking! as if he read your mind– can he?
his hands, warm and gentle, cupped your cheeks as he leaned towards you.
“may i?” your words were held in your throat from the shock, making you to nod. 
he closed the gap between you and the world temporarily fell silent. his lips were really soft. like, plump and so cushiony. he was gentle with the kiss, almost like you were his lifelong lover whom he relished, and kept it brief but long enough to illicit excited giggles from the young girls within the crowd. as you leaned away, your audience burst into a round of applause, standing to congratulate the sealing of your marriage. the finalisation of a deal made behind the curtains.
it didn’t feel like sparks bursting, not that you expected it to, but it felt surprisingly warm. homely and comfortable. like it was just you and him that mattered. which was a weird feeling. but you didn’t dislike it.
and in the deafening round of applause, in celebration, relief, envy, and pity, your eyes did not leave your stepfather’s. your mind did not leave the thought of screaming until your lungs shrivelled, as if your body wanted to do it itself.
it did not leave the desire to claw the life out of his throat.
“i can kill them all if you’d like,” sylus whispered, glancing down at you as you left the hall to enter another for the reception. 
“excuse me?” 
“you look unhappy,” he adjusted his tie, giving you a clearer view of his hands. the same hands that took down the wanderer last night. those veiny, strong hands– “about your current… position. so we can kill them all now, obviously excluding the children, then annul the marriage. would you like that?”
“wait, wait,” you paused in your steps. he just offered to murder every guest present then annul your marriage. he was giving you an open door to living your own life. but why? “isn’t this what you wanted? this marriage?”
“it was a necessary agreement,” he slowly spoke, carefully choosing his words. “there were many other ways to conduct a deal with your parents and the imperial court but those would have required more precision and time to handle. however, forcing your hand in something you don’t like isn’t right. i don’t mind ending this union between us once the time requisite passes– it’s a year, isn’t it?”
you were stunned, but still managed to muster a nod. he was so polite and colloquial. he kept a healthy distance from you to not make you too uncomfortable but kept close enough not to catch the suspicious eyes of the guests. 
“if that is what you want then by all means,” he smirked as he paused, his right eye glimmered for a second. “though i can’t guarantee you’ll want to by that point.” 
sylus’ hand remained on your person throughout the more festive side of the wedding, either on your hand or your shoulder, or your waist while his thumb rubbed up and down the bare skin of your back. 
watching him whisper to foreign dignitaries just loud enough for you to hear, shaking hands with members of the imperial court while ensuring you were fully acknowledged with respect, his occasional check-ins with you to ensure you were fine throughout– that wasn’t what you had expected of the fearsome leader of onychinus. 
his present ‘crows’ were all introduced to you, pledges and vows were made to your name to serve you with integrity, leaving you slightly confused as they only referred to you by your first name or ‘missus’ or ‘mrs boss’– specifically by two younger men wearing crow-like masks. 
“do you not have a last name?” you whispered to sylus as the next group of pitiful, arrogant, or opportunistic guests began to flock towards you after the last.
“is it needed?” you shrugged and sighed, rolling your shoulders back to prepare for the fake smiles coming to you like a hurricane. 
“i guess not, especially when you’re a planet conqueror.”
sylus softly hummed and took your hand, briefly walking away from the crowd before you. he guided you towards the entrance of the hall, attracting the attention of the guests you quickly moved past.
“what are you doing?” you hissed, subtly flicking the hand holding yours as you glanced over your shoulder. sylus briefly stopped and gently hooked your arm over his, which was surprisingly rather comfortable.
“i won’t let my wife tire herself out,” he said, glancing down at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “don’t worry about the maggots behind you. they’ll likely assume we are too excited to wait for the night.”
right. you had almost forgotten about that old tradition of consummating marriages. it was an outdated practice by general standards, but some of the wealthier clans and families still found it necessary to lock the marriage in place. you were surprised he believed in that, considering his line of business.
“i’ve never understood the practice honestly,” he tutted. “let couples do as they please at their own pace.” perhaps you were wrong about him.
his crows began to depart one by one, stopping to either nod, give you a look of respect, or even hug you wishing their welcomes to you. the two crow mask wearing young men nudged each other before they handed you a bouquet of blood red roses.
“your first wedding gift from the bossman!” the one with a deeper voice said. you could tell they had meant sylus. you accepted the roses and gave him a questioning side glance.
“would you have preferred receiving it during the ceremony?”
he guided you out of the hall to the main entrance of the estate. a crow– with ruby eyes and adorned with mechanical alterations especially to its wings– landed on sylus’ shoulder as you stepped outside. a very expensive looking luxury car awaited you. along with your parents.
your mother hobbled towards you with her cane, holding her hand out to hold you one last time. you instinctively leaned into her touch and pulled her into your embrace. a wave of emotion washed over you brimming tears in your eyes. 
your mother slowly stepped away from you, reluctant to let go of your hand. her sharp gaze averted to sylus who silently watched your stepfather throughout the interaction.
“keep my child safe. and alive.” he only gave her a nod. it became clear that your time was up for your old life. the transfer was complete and what happened next was up to you to brave with courage.
you gave your mother a final hug, requesting for her to take care of herself and that you would visit whenever you got the chance– both of you knew you never would.
as the vehicle pulled out of the main driveway with sylus at the wheel and you on the passenger seat, you heard your stepfather wishing you godspeed. it took more than balling your hands into fists to stop yourself from jumping out of the car and decapitating him with your hands.
the drive was mostly silent. the roof the car was opened to allow the wind to brush through your hair. a few black cars drove by your side for several minutes before branching off to different locations until the two of you were isolated on a road leading to the outskirts of linkon city.
you weren’t too sure on how to begin conversation with him– your… husband. even thinking about it felt unnatural. the car slowly picked up more speed until passing vehicles flashed by in less than a second. 
the exhilarating thrill of the speed reminded you of your horse and how you would often go riding at night to experience a sense of thrill to dispel your anger or disappointment. you had gone for a morning ride before preparing for the wedding, too afraid to say goodbye as your horse was the one thing– outside your mother– that you weren’t willing to let go of. like a man with a dog, you and your horse were true companions.
“you did well,” his voice almost made you jump in your seat. you turned to him with a look of slight agitation, watching him concentrate on the road. 
“oh sure, you would definitely be proud.” you scoffed, voice heavily laced with sarcasm.
“it’s good that you’re not ignorant,” he continued as if you didn’t say anything, making your eye twitch. “keeping an eye on every guest there to understand their intentions behind their presence and discerning between those who cared and those who benefitted from your- our marriage… that was admirably smart.”
your eyes narrowed. he was being painfully meticulous with his words but it also seemed effortless. you felt warmed by the praise, the acknowledgement of you putting your knowledge to good use. the crow cawed at you in what you assumed was anger.
“is this your pet?” you bit at the bird, making it flutter its wings and caw even more. sylus’ grinned as the car drove into a more isolated road.
“mephisto,” he said as the crow hopped off his shoulder and flew ahead of the car. “i don’t consider him as a pet– more like a confidant.”
mephisto cawed at you once more before flying off of sylus’ shoulders to speed ahead towards a large estate. the mansion looked absolutely marvelous, with its aged designs and well maintained grounds. it was slightly larger than your family’s estate with the lengthy driveway, the magnificent fountain at the main entrance and the overall quietness of the space. 
a dozen uniformed staff quietly moved boxes of what you recognised as your personal belongings into the mansion through what you assumed was the side entrance, stopping to bow in the presence of their employer.
one of them jogged to the car to greet sylus, not forgetting to acknowledge your presence, and announced that the staff would vacate to their quarters once your belongings were placed inside.
the interior was just as bourgeois as the outside. the main sitting area was dark, red and black with hints of rusted gold to be specific, covered with vintage furniture and collections of rare assets. you recognised a few of the paintings on the walls as prized works of classic creators. sylus was a creator.
towards the couches in the living area sat a bundle of neatly wrapped gifts in varying shapes and sizes. a few of the ones you picked were there as well. one of the many gifts that sat on the pile was the box of alcohol similar to the wine bottle in your hand.
“cherry wine,” sylus appeared next to you in complete silence, making you jump on the spot. “i love the scent of it.”
he poured you a glass and slid it to you before preparing his own. it smelled deliciously sweet to the point where you couldn’t tell if it was actually alcoholic. as the wine coated your lips, the sweetness was the first thing for you to sense. it was like drinking liquid sweets in the most erotic way possible. no wonder the term ‘pop the cherry’ was said when drinking that. the engulfing burn of the alcohol ran down your throat just as you swallowed. 
your tolerance for alcohol was reasonably strong– strong enough to have at least three glasses of the wine before you began to act differently. sylus, on the other hand, was already in a bit of a blush. he wasn’t near finished with his first glass.
“i didn’t take you for the type that can’t stomach drinks,” you commented as you poured yourself another glass. something about that intoxicating sweetness just had you thirsting for more. you were heating up under the confines of your wedding dress with it pooling close to your core.
sylus chuckled with a hint of nerve. “i don’t have the tolerance for it,” he admitted as he took another leisurely sniff of the drink. “and my sense of taste is somewhat dull, so i appreciate the smell more than what i consume.” he swirled the crimson beverage in the crystal glass, admiring the gloss of it under the warm lights above you. 
he glanced at the ring on your finger. “it looks good on you. i had feared that you would not like it.”
you followed his gaze, watching the light reflect on the crystals making them shine like water under the moonlight. 
“and you looked marvellous in that dress, as tattered as it was.” he was talking about the previous night. before you got roughhoused by those wanderers, the dress was rather beautiful and formfitting for you– dashed with gold and black jewels to complement the ruby red colour of your attire. you didn’t think he had noticed.
you could feel his gaze peeling you open layer by layer, increasing the bubbling heat within you. the alcohol must have been quite strong since it was rare for you to get so fuzzy so quickly. he was probably going to ramble more if you didn’t change the subject.
“do you live here?” you asked, turning away to look around the living room. your torso still felt so tight and constricted. “it looks untouched.”
your fingers fumbled to remove your necklace, struggling to get a good grip of the clasp– partially because you were flustered and that you the dress was designed in such a way that you couldn’t vigorously move around.
sylus moved behind you and moved your hands to your sides with an uncharacteristic amount of gentleness. this kindness was still something you were suspicious of. for a conquerer to be so kind to you felt weird.
“it’s a temporary stop before we get to the n109 zone,” he helped you remove your necklace, his fingers slowly travelled up your neck to unclasp it. “we can stay however long you need if you’re not ready to go.”
you instinctively leaned into his touch, feeling the heat of his hand spread across your skin. his patience and care was something you greatly appreciated– so much so that it gradually lowered your guard.
from the wedding to the tedious reception to that very moment, his behaviour went completely against the rumours that spread tainting his name. the same rumours that instilled fear amongst your peers. even when he stepped in to help you in battle the previous night, he wasn’t cruel– not with you at least.
“what were you doing in linkon yesterday?” you asked as sylus placed the necklace on the couch. he took your hand, silently indicating his desire to walk with you.
“confirming a few deals with the hunters association,” the hallway was wide and covered with pillars of withered plants and old paintings. although it looked meticulously clean it was still so void of life. “i needed to maintain my influence with my associates working there. i believe one of them are distantly related to you. she said you have a habit of chasing wanderers.”
then that was what she meant about your destiny. she knew about the deal too. a flash of disappointment in your face caught his ever so watchful eye.
“don’t blame her for this arrangement. she didn’t know better.” he rubbed your hand with his thumb and tugged you into the dining hall, embroidered with expensive carpets, couches and a fireplace on and by the floor, exotic plants on the corners of the large room and large windows overlooking the extensive grounds of the estate, coloured orange from the setting sun. 
your skin was painted in a warm gold colour along with his, kissed by the light shining into the dark room. the faint tipsy blush on sylus’ cheeks had gradually darkened as he looked at you, fully taking you in.
the way your dress hugged your body and accentuated your beauty, the soft amount of makeup on your face that amplified your natural appearance, and your relentless energy in how you spoke and moved had set his mind in a bit of a frenzy. even when you gave him that confused look you were just so pretty.
so pretty.
so beautiful.
so attractive.
heat flowed through his veins in rapid flashes, more than he could comprehend. it wasn’t similar to what he normally experienced whenever he was intoxicated. his hand left your grip to tug down on his tie that tightened around his neck, feeling as though he was suffocating.
his vision began to haze slightly, almost as though he was blinded by a wave of a familiar yet enhanced sensation– a magnified feeling.
lust.
“sylus?” his large hand hit the wall to maintain his balance. you almost called out for the staff to help but you quickly remembered they were all likely gone.
“are you alright?” your eyes blurred in a daze, your body fuzzed from the heat surrounding you and the incessant throbbing and swelling feeling of arousal spreading around you. sylus leaned on the wall, covering his eyes with his hand, the other quickly rushing down his abdomen to his crotch where a very large bulge pressed against the fabric of his pants.
oh. oh.
this was far from noble. both of you were basically clawing at your clothing, disheveled with the heat of pure desire– that had to be what it was. and for some reason, the muscles on his arms bulging through his tailored suit became more prominent than it was throughout the entire day.
just what could have caused a flash of this to happen out of nowhere?
then it clicked. the wine. that damned wine. did someone send it to you to spike you? the speculation made you pause to think. if someone wanted you and sylus dead, why would they send over a crate of cherry wine that has rendered you both insufferably hot–
“cherries, sylus, cherries are aphrodisiacs.” you groaned, holding your face in your hands. you just knew it that recommendation had no pure intent behind it.
“not strong ones,” sylus muttered, his back turned to you. though you could clearly see his ears were flushed red. “unless there’s another component in there– damn it, did you taste pomegranate?”
you did but it wasn’t that strong over the sweetness of the cherries. but you remembered someone mentioning (back in your clubbing days) that there are variants of the wine that have stronger effects– one of them being an aggressive aphrodisiac.
the air was thick, your breaths were heavy, the distance between you was less than a few steps away and ethically speaking it should have been much further than that. and yet– and yet you didn’t want to be any further from him.
you wanted to help him and yourself. through the clearest means possible.
“we need to fuck our way through this.” sylus whipped his head to you, almost bewildered by your brash approach. “only if you’re willing.”
“i am,” his chest rose and fell heavily, beads of sweat began to form on his forehead, damping that soft, cloud white hair of his. “but i worry if you are willing to do it. there are other ways we can handle this without going as far as intercourse–“
“what, masturbate in separate rooms?” you scoffed. you hissed in a breath, tugging down at your dress in a sore attempt to breathe more. “i don’t think i’d be able to get off if i can’t see you.” that part came out in a loud whisper which didn’t go deaf to his ears. 
“oh sweetie,” that same infuriating yet charming smirk tugged at his plump, soft– fuck. “you think i’m attractive?”
“wasn’t that obvious?” you panted and tugged at your neckline. “gods, i need this dress off.”
a gust of energy pulled you towards sylus until you were fully in his embrace. his head was dipped into your neck, lips so close to your skin. if this was his attempt to help relieve your mutual tension it definitely wasn’t working.
“perhaps i can take it off,” his hands traveled to the back of your neck and the small of your back, searing your nerves just with his touch. “your desire has changed to that of wanting something. someone. should this someone step in?”
oh that ass– you knew exactly what he wanted you to say. you weren’t going to give him that satisfaction. not by a long shot.
“maybe a kiss will suffice,” you mentally slapped your forehead. a kiss will suffice? your flirtation skills must have turned into pure mush. it was probably his face. handsome, divine, damned face!
and to your internal relief and joy he dutifully complied, engulfing you in his touch. just like the first kiss you shared, he was so gentle but this time you could sense he was holding back. though, admittedly, so were you. your hands stroked his hair, occasionally tugging at those soft tufts. a low groan erupted into your mouth accompanied with a harsh tut.
“my dear wife,” his voice had dropped an octave, rumbling straight down to your core which had already started to pool with arousal. something about him calling you that felt good. really good. “we are dangerously dangling over this cliff. are you sure you want to take the dive?”
you pecked his lips, giddy from the kiss. “let’s hope you can swim.”
your hands swarmed all over each other as the kiss intensified with each beat of your heart. in intervaled tugs and pulls and breaths between the kisses, your shoes both were kicked off, then his tie fell to the floor, then his blazer, then his dress shirt, exposing his torso to your hungry eyes. 
he expertly unbuttoned your dress at its collar and paused waiting for your permission to proceed. you quickly nodded and assisted him by tugging down the front of the dress, revealing your torso both bare and sparkling from the glitter sprayed onto your dress.
sylus eyed you with an indecipherable look all while feeling his way down to your hips so slowly with his large hands, tracing his fingers over the outline of your breasts and the sides of your waist. he was admiring you. 
his eyes fluttered shut as a shaky whine left his lips. within the closed space between your heated bodies, his hips managed to jut to yours reminding you of his throbbing length trapped within the confines of his clothing.
you leaned back, widened eyes peering into his burning crimson gaze. a quiet bond had formed between you in seconds and the instant understanding had been made transparently clear. he took your hands– which were not surprisingly smaller than his own– until they cupped his erection. sylus’ hands swiftly touched the zipper below the back opening of your dress and tugged it straight down.
“my patience is wearing thin, sweetie,” his lips tickled the shell of your ear. “i don’t know how much more i can hold back with you this close to me.”
you wasted no time in tugging down his pants along with his briefs allowing his cock to spring free, slapping your skin with precum almost spurting from his reddened tip. that alone was enough to have you soaked.
it was so hot and heavy, and long and thick, thick enough for you to question if your hand could wrap around it let alone your poor pussy, who was shamelessly leaking even more while sylus slid your dress and your lacy underwear down to the floor.
“i wanted to rip that off.”
“what?” 
“what?” with a scoff, you pushed him back with a singular finger to his chest and stepped away from the abandoned dress on the floor to get a better look of your husband confidently standing before you.
you’re mentally fanning yourself at the sight, shamelessly thinking of all the profanities you can conjure and all the dirtiest images involving the two of you. those thoughts must have been made under the influence of the wine. right?
“you like?” sylus grinned, watching you relentless stare at his body. his well-built, muscular body. god-sculpted and revered– fuck, you were in too deep.
“don’t get cocky.” you huffed, feeling your face warm for the nth time that night. that dress was getting a bit too tight on you. you tugged at the opening at your back to force more airflow around your skin but nothing was working. prickles of sensitivity brought you to a shiver, the slightest movement from your legs was stimulating pleasure to the power of a thousand. 
you almost pounced on him. almost. but you maintained composure. you straightened your posture and moved to the dining table, pushing away the plates and cutlery in your way to free up the corner. fortunately it was short enough to stand between. 
sylus followed in suit, standing at the opposite end of the table at the shorter side to not be too far from you. his hands wandered all over his body, stroking and pinching at his skin to tease himself– and you.
“i know what you’re doing, sylus.”
“i know what you’re doing, sweetie,” his hand eventually found his cock, ghosting his touch over his sensitive length. you watched him bite his lips, watched him intentionally raise the stakes in the little game you were playing together. 
you were going to go all in. you leaned into the corner of the table, connecting your needy wetness to its new source of pleasure.
sharp jolts ran up your spine from your clit rubbing against the corner of the table. you paused, slowly repeating the movement until you relaxed into the position too needy to stop. your hand flew to your mouth to muffle the impeding moans just begging to roll off your tongue.
across the table, he watched you in a daze while lazily pumping at his cock. his fist squeezed around the base, making the veins running up his shaft more prominent, and stroked up until his angry red tip disappeared within his hand. a gentle plap! rhythm accompanied the classical music in the background as he picked up a reasonable pace. 
his fingers danced around his tip rubbing back and forth on the slit that dribbled out precum like a leaky tap– soft moans were being pulled out of his lips as he teased his body, he caressed his chest and ultimately tortured himself, all while intently watching your pretty, squished breats bounce between your arms as your hips began to rut against the table.
he must have been doing all of that on purpose.
your knuckles paled as your grip on the table strengthened, so desperate to have something inside your weeping pussy that you almost stuffed your fingers as far as they’d be able to go. but alas, you knew they weren’t capable of satiating what you needed. you dropped your head to concentrate– to go just a bit harder–
“uh-uh, kitten,” you could just hear him smiling. kitten. a jolt shot straight down to your core. you could just feel your slick begin to drip down your legs, and judging by the reckless pump of blood flow your lips must swollen from all that need. “look at me.”
nope, you weren’t planning on doing that. not while you were getting closer to your climax. the angle you had found was just perfect, hitting the bud of your swollen clit and rubbing at the sensitive nerves surrounding at. you could just hear the squelches from your wetness leaking onto the table and dripping down in small, sticky droplets. 
you raised your head slightly, panting out a desperate moan, eyes hazed with arousal and need only to find sylus not where he was originally standing. your breath hitched, instantly feeling his overwhelming presence behind you. how did he get there so fast?
his lips found the back of your neck, still well exposed despite the neatness of your styled hair falling apart. his hands settled on your waist, holding you in place as kissed down your spine and around the fading remnants of the insignia painted onto your back.
“how about i help you a bit?” he murmured and licked his way up your spine until his hot, wet tongue found the shell of your ear. “would you like that?”
too breathless to speak, you nodded.
“use your words, sweetie.” he whispered and pecked your jaw. his hardened cock lightly grazed the curve of your ass. “this only works if you tell me you want it.”
“oh fuck you.”
“that’s not what i’m looking for.” he teasingly presses himself against you, rubbing himself up and down, nestling his cock between your lower cheeks. “tell me what you want.”
he was so close yet so damn far, and his teasing wasn’t helping at all. “you.” you choked.
“hmm?”
“damn you, i need your help!” you blabbered while your body instinctively pushed back to be closer to him. “i want your help and i want you– now, help me!”
sylus hummed in approval, lowering his hands to your hips. “yes ma’am.”
your legs were beginning to ache from your endless grinding to satisfy your insatiable desire, bringing you to a tremble. sylus’ presence had briefly left you until he returned with his hands on the back of your thighs and warm air fanning your pussy.
“absolutely soaked,” he commented in astonishment, pressing a wet peck on your thigh, intentionally making you feel how far he is from where he’s supposed to be. you groaned, bucking back in urgency.
“stop teasing!”
“oh?” he pressed another kiss on your other thigh, intentionally increasing the distance. “i thought enjoyed my brattiness, kitten. are you going to threaten me with your claws?”
you stopped moving to give him a glare. “sylus–“
“no, continue what you were doing. i’ll take care of this little mess right…” his fingers rubbed your entrance, spreading your wetness down to your thighs. “here.” 
oh yes. his hands were perfect. 
they did so much more to you than your own ever could. you slowly rocked your hips against the desk to return your wavering attention to your needy bud. the double stimulation from his fingers gradually going deeper inside you and your clit being abused by a bloody inanimate object– you could just feel yourself reaching your limit.
his fingers explored your weeping pussy without restraint, curving and curling in you to find exactly what made you tick, twitch, and tingle. his lips caressed your bare lower cheeks, making your pant more and more until a sharp sting threw you off your daze. it was a bite. he bit you.
“did you just bite my ass–“
“yeah, what about it?”
you scoffed in disbelief, muttering that you’d stop him from biting your ass and pushed his head back to devour your soaking cunt. sylus grunted in surprise but wasted no time to get to work, resting his hands on your ass to give his tongue more access to you.
you heard of tongue-fucking as a concept but you never understood how good it felt– not until now. feeling him smoothly curl and curve that wet muscle inside you so effortlessly had you in a messy daze. your nails clawed into his hair, keeping him in place to continue with his gentle yet persistent ministrations.
“s-sylus,” you moaned, moving faster and faster to chase your impending high, keeping him close to you to ensure he followed your flow. “oh, fuck, sylus!”
“mm– so profane.” his voice was muffled against you, his tongue swirled around your entrance before slipping back inside. the vibrations of his moans rumbled through you almost triggering you to tip off the edge. that familiar plap! plap! rhythm sounded beneath you, accompanying his choked noises.
you pushed his head back to face him, and you were shockingly pleased.
your dangerous husband was on his knees with his hand shamelessly tending to his abandoned, flushed cock, jutting his hips to simulate what it could feel deep inside you. the experience of having his fingers and tongue in you alone was more than enough to set him off.
now he just needed to have you in every position humanely possible.
“need some help?” you grinned in a mocking tone, slowly kneeling before him. sylus’ face was as red as the cherry wine, his broad, muscular chest glistened in a layer of sweat that dripped down the lines of his abdomen until it was lost within the trimmed, white tufts of the hairs surrounding his cock. you just couldn’t take your eyes off him. you didn’t want to.
“please,” it didn’t even take you teasing for him to give in. sylus leaned forward, hand still working his raging cock, and rested his head against yours. 
“i need you,” you watched his cock twitch in his hands, slowly beginning to salivate. damn, those aphrodisiacs were strong. you had never felt that aroused before. never felt such a strong desire to take him in your mouth. 
“i have an idea,” you whispered, pecking the corner of his lips. he whimpered from the mere contact, leaning into you more to reach your lips. “if you’ll let me.”
“anything, kitten,” he pressed a desperate kiss on your lips. then another. “anything.”
what he didn’t anticipate from you was that you’d immediately go down on him, moving his hands up and swiping your tongue around his cock in an instant. he sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes. what a seductress you were.
from the way you walked down the alter to him, to your joy and serenity on horseback, to that very moment with you bent down lubricating him with your tongue, kissing his leaking cockhead with your pretty lips.
you kissed your way up his shaft, long and heavy, testing how girthy he truly was with your hand– so thick you couldn’t wrap your hand around it fully. you took his tip in, getting a taste of his precum bursting into your mouth from a simple touch all while swirling your tongue over his slit.
his groans vibrated onto your tongue as it lapped up more drops of his precum at debilitatingly slow pace. lick, lick, lick like a kitten drinking milk. his shaft was not left alone, being delicately handled by your hands stroking up and down with gentle squeezes in intervals.
“squeeze– squeeze harder.” sylus panted. you raised your eyes to meet his piercing crimson gaze. a shot of tingles vibrated around your pussy, making you so much wetter. you obeyed without complaint, strengthening your grip on his cock with each stroke. 
your head bobbed taking you further and further down his shaft until his leaky tip tapped the back of your mouth, right before the curve down your throat. you choked out a moan, feeling a tingle of tears burn the corners of your eyes. sylus quickly noticed and cradled your head, about to pull you out.
“are you alright?” from your angle he looked like such an adorable puppy, worried for you while his cock was stuffed in your mouth. you hummed, stroking his hand, and opened your jaw to take more of him. you took deep breaths through your nose slowly returning to your initial rhythm.
sylus watched his cock slowly disappear into your mouth until he was fully bottomed out in you. you were so warm and your throat was so tight around his length, so much so that you couldn’t help but gag every so often around his girth. the sounds of your chokes and gags filled the space along with the delicious sloppiness of your pretty mouth slurping around him.
“so pretty,” he huffed. the temptation to grip your head and guide you to go faster was getting stronger by the second. his knees ached from sitting in that position for so long but the pleasure was worth the pain. his hand instinctively pushed your further down into him and you responded so well by hollowing your cheeks, tightening your mouth around him as much as you could. his eyes rolled back as he moaned, your noises of pure pleasure reverberated in the air.
it was so wet and sloppy, creating a small puddle of precum and saliva from what dripped out of your mouth. you pulled your head back with a loud pop! with your tongue out, letting all the slickness drip down to his tip. sylus groaned in an attempt to hold back whatever profanities brewed in him.
your face was drenched from the tip of your nose down beyond your chin. sylus breathing was heavy, chest heaving, face fully flushed. his lips opened to speak but he was rendered speechless. his lips rushed onto your neck, licking up the slick wetness until his lips found yours. 
like how you worked his cock, the kiss was wet, sloppy, lustfully passionate and boiling with your mutual greed to consume each other. your tongues swirled and collided, teeth occasionally clashing as well in reckless pursuit of remaining as close as possible.
he pulled you onto his lap, cock still rock hard and flush against your abdomen, rubbing against your flesh, making him shiver from the stimulation. the buzz from the aphrodisiac was still strong, coursing through him as quickly as his pulse.
“need to be in you,” he moaned against you lips in a rough plea. “need to feel you.”
your inhibitions were right out the window. all you could think of was the thought of you two sickeningly together, divinely united, fucking consummating the damn marriage just so you could fully feel him. “need you inside, sy,”
like hearing an instant buzzword sylus immediately acted on your word, picking you up and moving you towards the carpet by the fireplace. he rested your head on the larger pillow while pressing his lips down your body, whispering his praises.
his lips found your hand and kissed each knuckle. “thank you for accepting me despite our rough first impression.” he kissed you up your arm all the way to your collarbones, nipping your flesh then licking you as an apology.
“want to make you feel so good,” he suckled on your skin as his hands fondled your breasts, thumbs circling your pebbled nipples making your back arch. he gently tugged on your hardened bud with his teeth and switched to the other, lathering it with his tongue and leaving harsh bruises behind.
“want to be yours,” his lips slowly travelled back up your neck, suckling small bruises and biting his mark onto your skin.
“you are, genuis.” you huffed, wiggling your finger holding the bedazzled ring. sylus glanced at it with a look of great admiration, enamoured by how it looked in your hand. how you wore it so confidently.
“legally,” his hands held your face and gave you a squish. “legally, but not of your own accord.”
you had to admit that he was correct. the marriage alone wasn’t something you would have agreed with. but you found him interesting within the last few hours where you got to speak to him. outside of your physical attraction to him you liked how his mind worked too.
“then let me make you mine.”
a look of surprise painted his face. you assured him with a smile. “let me claim you as mine. my husband. my friend. my partner.” 
your lips found each other once more, dancing in pure passion and adoration as your bodies performed a more lewd waltz in grinds and strong grips on sensitive flesh. sylus adjusted himself, aligning his cock with your dripping entrance.
he gave you one more questioning look to which you responded with an affirmative nod, lacing your fingers between his. he rolled his hips against yours, gently bullying the tip of his cock into you until it disappeared past your swollen pussy lips. you felt so warm and so damn tight he struggled to keep what was left of his composure. 
the sting of his sheer size and girth made you hiss and claw your fingers on his arm, gasping at the sheer buildup of pressure. sylus’ eyes were squeezed shut, brows furrowed, and lips parted allowing a melodic moan to flow into your ears. 
somehow the feeling of him being inside you get you wetter than you could comprehend and your walls sucked him in, pulling his cock deeper into you until he was almost, almost bottomed out.
“i think she likes me,” he huffed, massaging your hips to soothe the sting. 
“maybe.”
“definitely.” he slowly drew his hips back and thrusted forward with little restraint. the pain had disappeared with a fiery ignition replacing it. your gummy walls held onto his cock as it drew back and rushed into you again, creating a slick and wet noise between you as he gradually went faster.
your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist to lock him in place while your hands explored his back, smooth and rippled with his muscles tensing and relaxing with each gentle thrust. his lips peppered kisses and bites onto your neck, sucking harsh bruises into your skin as a substitution for the pent up desire he was desperately trying to hold back.
your name was rambled into the air in seething moans as if he was almost pained to have to restrain himself. to not harm you in pursuit of pleasing you. and then you tugged his hair. and gave him that look.
“stop holding back sy,” you whispered and pecked the corner of his lip. you were feeling a bit too greedy. “let’s give in.”
something must have snapped in him. a switch must have flipped because you saw a completely different look in his eyes in the exact second you felt his cock fit inside you entirely, fully bottoming out in you. your eyes rolled back from the sheer quick force of it, choking out a cry.
he wasn’t merciful either with his pace gradually picking up to the point where your skin slapped against his every time your hips collided until a wet clapping rhythm echoed across the dining hall alongside your joint noises.
your hands crept up to his back, finding comfort in rudely carving red lines into his skin without restraint. sylus’ melodic groans serenaded you into a haze that demanded more and more from him– more noise, more pleasure, just more.
sylus slowly sat up and glanced down to watch his cock disappear inside you then pull back out, glistening with your joint wetness to the point where it ran up his abdomen. the pillows propping you up gave you a slight view as well, a view so lewd that you almost hit your orgasm then and there.
“you are so– so tight, kitten.” sylus panted, pushing his damped hair back. his muscles were flexed, defining the sweat dripping down his body. you were almost certain you could ride his abs and get off just from that.
“you’re so big,” your eyes fluttered closed, too overwhelmed by him filling you up consistently. the pleasure alone was overwhelming. seeing him so disheveled because of you was so delightful. 
your legs were pushed up against you before he leaned back down, his tip teasing your dripping entrance for painfully long seconds before pushing in entirely in a swift slam. your pussy stung with esctasy, your toes curled from the intensive swell of pleasure in the direct spot his tip brutally poked, your eyes crossed out of your control. just what did he do?
near shaking above you, sylus leaned into your touch, hypnotised– no, enamoured by you. he just wanted to stay buried so deeply inside you, privileged to be the only one to feel how your walls squeeze and flutter around him, to be able to explore what makes you tick and moan or scratch him in need, what would make you happy, what would anger you, he wanted it all.
he had it all. he had you. and he was gradually learning just how much he needed you.
“you’re so enchanting,” he half moaned-half laughed as he returned to his initial pace in that deeper angle. “so– gods– so powerful.” he watched your pretty face fall into a daze, lips spread apart for him to hear your voice crack with your cries. your bodies were so close that the friction of your sweat stricken skin no longer bothered either of you.
you could felt your limit approaching. all that stimulation and foreplay from earlier on top of the aphrodisiac’s influence was driving you insane. you pulled sylus’ head to yours, pressing your lips onto his desperate to consume him, desperate to ensure he knew how you felt so good with him. how you felt safe.
but fuck, you were going to explode. you were so painfully close and it looked like he was too. 
it took a few more sharp thrusts before the thin string snapped, throwing you into a whole new realm of bliss. a loud cry escaped you, followed by a soft whimper from the man above you before you both crumbled in the cloud of intoxicating sparks bursting. 
your soaked walls fluttered as globs of sticky, hot cum filled you up, partially spurting out with each rough thrust. a string of curses filled the air from both of you due to the sheer deliciousness of the feeling.
hours– or, realistically speaking, minutes– must have passed while you panted, glistening in the afterglow of your erotic pursuit. despite the exhaustion, you somehow managed to soothe each other through soft caresses and massages in the areas where you gripped each other harder than intended.
sylus rested his head on your shoulder, kissing the parts of your neck that he could reach. you brought his hand to your lips and pecked each knuckle over and over again, blessing his ring finger with a particularly longer one.
“when the effects wear off, things will be a bit awkward.” sylus grumbled. 
you hummed in agreement. but considering how far you had gone on your first– technically second– day of knowing one another, you could pretty much do anything.
“how about we start off as friends first and see where that goes?” you suggesting, lacing your fingers with his. your rings dazzled in the moonlight for to admire. “i mean, we’ve already achieved the marriage goal. and the consummation.”
his laugh vibrated onto your neck, further lulling you in to comfortable exhaustion. maybe a nice nap on the floor wouldn’t hurt. 
sylus smiled a kiss onto your neck then your cheek, eyes twinkling with bliss and joy. “alright then, dearest wife who is also my new friend. let’s do that.”
in the mutual quiet, you both found yourselves admiring each other as the heat of your climax finally cooled down. and then the next wave of arousal quickly arrived. you definitely weren’t going to hold back this time.
“again.” you pressed a kiss on the corner of his lips.
“again?” he panted, almost in worry. you were insatiable.
“you can’t handle it?” you laughed in a teasing tone. within an instant you found yourself straddled on top of him– he must have turned you over with that inhumane strength– his cock quickly hardening again inside you. 
“i was worried about you, sweetie,” he squeezed your nose with a playful grin before settling his large hands on your hips, rocking them back and forth. you could just feel his cum seeping out of you. “i hope you can keep up because we won’t be stopping till the sun rises.”
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aureatelys · 1 month ago
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nobody does it like you do
pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner/fem!reader rating: explicit w.c.: 10k.... a/n: dbf!hotch party ended months ago but im still here
summary:
You don't mean to start something with your dad's best friend during your summer break.
c.w.: 18+ MDNI PLSSSS, dbf!hotch yippee, no y/n, reader is mid-20s and hotch is mid 40s, reader is kind of a brat and also very sexual and forward :), car sex, handjobs in car, v fingering, dom/sub, dirty talk, light degradation kink, size kink if u squint, light choking at the end!, unprotected sex, tbh some plot to mostly porn
read below or on ao3 here <3
You’re nearly half-naked when you first meet him.
It was the first morning back at home during your summer break in your first year of your Master’s program. You hadn’t been home in several months, blaming your rigorous coursework and the full-time job you had, but luckily you were able to use nearly a month’s worth of PTO to coincide with your summer off.
You had gotten in late after flying across the country, but your body still woke up like clockwork just before 9 am.
Currently, as you make eye contact with the tallest and most attractive man you have ever met while wearing a tank top and shorts that barely covered your ass, you couldn’t tell if that was a blessing or a curse.
You had heard your dad rave about what basically sounded like a crush he had over the phone for nearly a year. Aaron Hotchner apparently works with your father at the FBI, albeit in a different department, and they hit it off at a recent gala by discussing golf, expensive scotch, and being annoyed about the latest budget cuts. One Saturday at the country club’s golf course later, your father was hooked, and Aaron has been over at the house nearly every weekend since.
You remember your dad saying something about how he’s hardworking, better than he is at golf, and much nicer than he looks. He didn’t say anything about how hot he was.  
You were stumbling out your bedroom and rubbing at your eyes when you had nearly run into him on the way to the bathroom. You’re still waking up, but you see the genuine surprise and something like want on his face before it’s gone, a neutral expression taking over his handsome features. The clench in his jaw betrays him.
“Excuse me,” he says. His voice is low, deep in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. “I was just heading into the restroom.”
You blink at him, your mind still not having not caught up yet. “Uhm.”
“I can just go to the one downstairs,” he says, giving you an easy smile. It makes him look even more devastatingly attractive and you feel dazed. With that, he turns on his heel and makes his way back downstairs without another word.
You distantly hear your father downstairs calling your name and asking if you’re awake. You feel rooted to the spot, flustered.
You try your best to go through your normal bathroom routine, but your heart still hasn’t calmed down yet. It’s been a while since you’ve dated and even longer since you’ve slept with someone, thus you’ve had a lot of quality time with yourself recently, so seeing the way this older man reacted to you was enough to have you preening a bit. You weren’t imagining it, right?
You tell yourself that you’re feeling lazy after a long day of traveling and not wanting to change yet as you head downstairs into the kitchen, absolutely not hiking your shorts up a little and shimmying your tank top down.
“Good morning,” you chirp as you step into the kitchen. Your dad is already sitting at the dining table, most likely finishing his second cup of coffee, and his face lights up when he sees you as if he wasn’t the one to pick you up from the airport late last night. Aaron is standing in the kitchen next to the coffee machine, pouring into a travel mug.
You ignore the way you can feel Aaron’s dark eyes rove over you; the top of your breasts nearly threatening to spill out, your hard nipples poking through your top, and the curve of your ass peeking out from underneath your shorts.
“Morning, pumpkin,” your dad says cheerily, clearly oblivious to what’s going on between his friend and his own daughter. “This is Aaron, he works at the Bureau with me, I told you about him?”
You vaguely remember when you stalked through his Facebook profile several months ago after your father was tagged with him multiple times. The pictures of him were always blurry, never giving you anything to go off of.
As you stand next to him in the kitchen and crane your neck up to look at him, you realize the pictures really don’t do him justice. He’s handsome, almost boy-ish with the way his hair is clean and not gelled down like in the pictures, flopping in front of his forehead. He’s wearing a tight red polo, showcasing his broad shoulders and forearms in a way that makes you want to drool a bit. His brow is pinched, jaw tense, and you almost think you can hear his teeth grinding when he attempts to keep his eyes on your face and not on your chest.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Hotchner,” you say, giving him an innocent smile. You ignore the mug your dad must have left on the counter for you and stand up on your tiptoes to retrieve one from the overhead cupboard.
You feel a rush of exhilaration when you hear Aaron suck in a breath at the way your tank top hikes up your stomach. When you turn back to him, because he is technically in the way of the coffee machine, you catch the way his eyes sharpen and the way his hand grasps at the edge of the counter, knuckles turning white.
And then it’s gone, just like earlier, replaced with something almost professional, probably the same expression he makes when something ticks him off at work.
Interesting.
“Aaron is fine,” he says, stepping out of the way of the coffee machine and then holds his hand out for you to shake.
You can feel your dad watching you, so you make an effort to tone it down a bit. You put your hand in his, swallowing when you notice just how large his hands are and the way he grips you a bit tighter than what would be considered professional. When you look back up at him, there’s something almost like a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Nice to meet you, Aaron,” you repeat. It’s worth it to see a smile grace his face, replacing that smirk, and causing something fuzzy settle in your chest.
When he lets go and makes his way to sit across your dad at the table, you ignore how your hand suddenly feels like it’s burning.
“We’re about to head to the golf course here in a couple of minutes if you wanted to join?” your dad asks as you pour your coffee and sit down at the head of the table.
You hum and experimentally kick your feet out in Aaron’s direction to where he sits to your left. You make contact with his knee, and you watch almost gleefully as Aaron just barely jumps in his seat. He doesn’t make eye contact with you, just quietly sips at his coffee. It really shouldn’t turn you on the way it does. “I’m okay, I was just planning on hanging out here and catch up on my shows.”
“You sure, pumpkin? I know it’s been a while since you were out on the course but…”
“I think that’s exactly why I shouldn’t come with you,” you laugh. You pull your chair up closer to the table, making it look like you were just trying to get comfortable, when really you just wanted to cop more of a feel of Aaron’s thighs.
“Alright, alright,” your father says, putting his hands up in defeat. “But don’t forget about the retreat later this week with the guys.”
You pause from where you were just about to dig your toes underneath his thigh. “Retreat?”
“I told you about it when I picked you up last night!”
“I think you forgot that you picked me up at one in the morning and I was half-asleep in the car,” you roll your eyes. “But of course I’ll go with you.”
“Great!” Your dad says with that big smile on his face that always makes you feel nostalgic. You don’t really want to go, was honestly just planning on relaxing at home, but if it makes your dad happy and you get to spend more time with him, then you’ll do almost anything.
And if Aaron’s coming too, then well…
Your dad gets up to put his mug in the sink and starts making his way out of the dining room. “You ready to go, Hotchner?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Aaron says, a barely detectable rasp to his voice that has you hiding a smile in your mug.
You’re about to put your foot down when you feel thick fingers circling your ankle and lifting your leg up until your ankle is resting on Aaron’s knee. You nearly squeak in surprise, but the look on Aaron’s face stops you.
He would look calm, composed even, if you didn’t pay attention to the way his eyes have darkened. His brow is pinched, lips pressed into a thin line, as he tightens his grip on your ankle and asks in a low voice “What kind of game are you playing here?”
Not expecting confrontation, you don’t know what to say. Your breath gets stuck in your chest, something about the glare he’s giving you keeps you rooted in your chair.
Because there’s really only two options here. He’s your dad’s best friend, at least 20 years older than you, and you really have no business in sexually riling up this guy you’ve never met before until today. You can apologize, give him a genuine and friendly smile, and go back to your room and pretend this never happened and you weren’t just throwing yourself at some hot older man.
But there’s something about Aaron that you can’t quite put your finger on. You wonder what it would be like to see him without those walls he undoubtedly keeps up all the time, see him come undone. You can tell from his Facebook pictures that he’s a bigshot of some kind, always wearing a fitted suit and not a hair out of place. You can see that now, in his pressed polo and matching belt, that he likes control, his skin nearly thrumming with it. And that’s something you’ve always enjoyed playing with.
You noticed the lack of a wedding ring on his finger, and the way he’s gazing into you now. The hot trail his hand leaves behind as he starts running up your shin, past your knee, and grip at the meat of your thigh says all you need to know.
“What game?” you say, innocently. You even play it up a bit by batting your lashes at him.
His grip on your thigh tightens, and it feels so good, and it’s been so long, you resist rolling your eyes back and instead spread your legs just a bit underneath the table.
“Your father didn’t tell me you were such a brat,” he mutters.
“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him,” you say, hoping you don’t sound as out of breath as you feel.
Aaron doesn’t say anything at that, just hums thoughtfully. You don’t have a chance to backpedal, redirect the conversation if you were reading the whole situation wrong, before he’s placing your leg back on the floor with a gentle hand on your ankle and getting up.
“We can talk more about what you want to do after school later,” he says, raising his voice a bit in an effort to appear like he wasn’t just groping you underneath the table.
You almost don’t hear what he says because your gaze is fixed on the obvious tent in his khakis. Your mouth nearly waters, and just knowing that you’re having the same kind of effect on him as he has on you has heat pooling between your thighs.
You shake your head, resisting the thoughts of throwing yourself on your knees in front of him and taking him in your mouth right in the dining room. You grin up at him and, in an impulsive decision that you’re secretly proud of, you reach over to put a hand on his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch.
“Absolutely, Mr. Hotchner.”
Your smile grows wider at the stormy glare he gives you before he heads out of the dining room, imperceptibly adjusting himself in his pants. Your eyes follow him out, cheeks nearly starting to hurt from how hard you’re smiling because damn, does his ass look good.
It’s your summer vacation, you may as well have some fun, right?
-
Since then, you’ve barely seen Aaron.
You had made Aaron and your father sandwiches, knowing they’d be home by the afternoon. You tried not to let the fact that you were upset, disappointed even, show on your face when your dad came home by himself and told you that Aaron got called for a case.
You knew from your dad that this was a normal occurrence for Aaron and that they’ve both gotten used to it. So many times there would be a gala or a party at the house and he would be called away to chase down a murderer or a rapist or a combination of the two.
You tried not to let it get to you, because seriously, you just met him, but also, it’s not like he owes you anything. But you really hoped that he wouldn’t miss the retreat later that week. Just imagining spending time with him in your lone hotel room was enough to make you dizzy.
So, you distracted yourself. You caught up on your emails, watched those shows that had been piling up in your watch later list, and spent time with your dad at the golf course or whatever else he wanted to do that day. It was nice spending your summer vacation with your dad and catching up on what he does at his boring administrative job and the lack of both of your love lives.
By the time Friday rolled around, there was still nothing but radio silence from Aaron, at least you assumed since your dad hadn’t mentioned him. You almost wish you had asked for his phone number before he left, but it wouldn’t have done you any good to waste a whole week sitting by your cellphone, waiting for a probably dry text from some guy.
A really hot, older guy that definitely has control issues and could toss you around like a ragdoll.
You’re throwing your bag in your car’s backseat and was about to admit defeat, that maybe he really wasn’t going to make it, when a black Range Rover comes skidding down your street and into your driveway.
“There he is,” your dad said in a sing-song voice, sounding about as giddy as you felt.
Your breath catches in your throat when you see him stepping out of his car, because how the hell is it possible for a man to look so attractive doing something so mundane?
And then your eyes nearly bug out because he has his suit jacket hanging from his arm, a duffel bag in the other, and is wearing a white dress shirt so tight that you could see the bulge of his biceps and the softness of his stomach.
“Sorry I’m late,” Aaron says, jogging up to where you and father were. “We just got back a couple hours ago.”
He looks at you then with those pretty brown eyes, looking genuinely apologetic, and the disappointment that you were afraid was going to take a permanent place in your chest gently unravels.
“It’s no problem, Hotch,” your dad waves him off. “We’re still waiting for some of the other guys, so you made it just in time.”
“Great,” Aaron breathes in relief. “I’m going to go change then, I’ll be right back.” His eyes flit towards you again, and you would’ve missed it if you weren’t still staring at him. They’re piercing, undoubtedly beckoning you to follow him, and there’s a hint of a smirk tugging at his mouth.
You feel a rush of excitement shooting through you as you watch him head towards the front door, eyes fixated on his hips. There was no clearer sign than that one, though you try not to roll your eyes fondly at the fact that your dad evidently did not notice as he goes back to playing Tetris with his bags in the trunk.
You wait a couple of minutes, pretending to play on your phone, and then exclaim “Oops, I almost forgot my phone charger! I’m going to run upstairs and get it.”
Your dad just gives an “Okie dokie, sweetie,” and then his phone rings with who you assume is one of his friends you’re waiting for.
You try to not sprint to the front door, instead taking a deep breath and walking in what you hope looks like a normal pace. However, as soon as the front door clicked shut, you run up the stairs, hoping Aaron chose your bathroom rather than the one downstairs.
Not spotting him waiting outside the bathroom, your heart nearly drops out from underneath you, however you notice the closed door and the soft golden light from underneath telling you that you were right.
You were right and maybe you weren’t imagining things. He knew you would listen to his unspoken instructions and follow him. You weren’t a profiler like him, not an expert at studying other people’s body language, but there was nothing fake about the fact that he got hard at your dining room table and you had only known each other for 10 minutes that Sunday.
The click of the door opening disrupts your thoughts. You’re about to grin up at Aaron, say something cute like how you’ve missed him or something more playful like asking why he hasn’t called you.
But you don’t get the chance because you’re suddenly being pressed up against the wall, warm hands on your hips, and Aaron’s soft mouth pressing into yours.
He swallows your gasp, his fingers inching up the hem of your tank top to touch the skin of your waist and kisses the life out of you. His lips are chapped and he tastes fresh, like he had a breath mint on the drive here, and the thought that he had that foresight just for you makes your knees weak.
He kisses you deeply, not even bothering to start gentle like so many other boys have tried before, and it’s overwhelming and not enough at the same time. You’re helpless to kiss back, your body finally catching up, and your hands come up to tangle at the soft strands at the nape of his neck.
He hums against your lips at that, his hands starting to move underneath your shirt to trace the swell of your breasts through your bra. It tickles, and you squirm a little and huff a laugh against his mouth before you can help it.
Before you could apologize and tell him to stop tickling you, his hands press your hips harder against the wall and his lips break away from yours. You attempt to chase him, because you were definitely not done making out, when Aaron tuts at you.
“Behave,” he warns lowly, but he has a full-blown smirk now. His eyes are dark, pupils blown, and his lips red and glistening. He looks so unbearingly sexy when he’s reprimanding you, he just makes it so easy for you to tease him.
“Or what?” You ask, smiling up at him. You watch as his smirk falters, brows furrowing, and something like frustration and exasperation blooms on his face.
“You’re ridiculous,” Aaron breathed, before he’s leaning in and pressing open-mouthed kisses along your jawline and down your neck. He scrapes his teeth against the spot where your shoulder and neck meets and your knees actually buckle this time, something like a strangled moan coming out of your mouth and catching you by surprise. “Looks like you do know how to watch that mouth of yours.”
Any snarky comeback you have dies in your throat because you did not expect Aaron to have that kind of dirty mouth on him. Molten heat starts to pool at the bottom of your stomach, between your thighs, as he slips the strap of your tank top down your shoulder to trace your collarbone with his lips.
“Aaron…,” you whisper, letting your hands fall from his nape to grab at his shoulders, trail down to grope at his biceps. The sleek muscle you can feel even through the fabric of his polo that he changed into, tensing and flexing as he pushes at you, sends your mind reeling.
“What is it, sweetheart?” he mutters against your shoulder, his warm breath and the pet name making you feel paralyzed. “Cat got your tongue?”
Your eyes roll back as you feel him biting a mark onto your chest, right underneath your collarbone, the pain and pleasure tingling all the way down to your cunt. You say something unintelligible, brain feeling muddled, because holy shit.
“Hey pumpkin, did your find your charger? We have to get moving!” You hear your dad’s voice from downstairs and barely swallow back a gasp before Aaron’s hand is pressed over your mouth to quiet you. You hate that that does absolutely nothing to help the growing arousal between your thighs.
Aaron’s eyes meet yours. His eyes have gotten impossibly darker, soft hair falling against his forehead. The wild desire and excitement are clear on his face, but he raises his eyebrows at you to signal you to behave before he lifts his palm off your face.
“Coming!” you yell back at him, hoping the strain in your voice isn’t as obvious to him as it is to you.
Aaron hums, something smug playing at his lips. “Maybe later.”
And it’s ridiculous. Aaron Hotchner, stoic Unit Chief of an FBI unit, best friend of your dad, and 20 years older than you just made out with you so hard that your knees buckled and made a joke about making you come?
You huff a laugh, pushing at his shoulder so you can wriggle out of his grip. He lets go immediately, stepping back to give you several feet of space, and you try not to think about how you already miss the heat and weight of his body against yours.
You’re about to run downstairs, an excuse about realizing you already packed your charger on the tip of your tongue, when Aaron is circling his fingers around your wrist. You look back at him curiously, because as much as you want to, there definitely isn’t time for him to ravage you in your bedroom.
He looks much more composed now, more like his professional SSA Aaron Hotchner self, but you catch the way his eyes linger on the way your shorts ride up high and the soft expanse of your thighs. “I’m serious. We’ll finish this later.”
And it’s the way he doesn’t pose it as a question, but rather a guarantee. Like nothing is going to stop him from having his way with you.
The thought of being completely at Aaron’s mercy has you breathless, feeling a flush rise on your face and your pulse between your legs. He has you stunned speechless, because you’ve never been with someone who has made you feel complete and utter want. You look at him now, chest imperceptibly heaving and making that olive green polo tug across the wide expanse of his chest, you realize that he may just ruin other people for you completely.
Your throat clicks when you clear it, and you only feel a little embarrassed when Aaron doesn’t hide his smirk at you. All words have died in your throat, so you nod instead, hoping that he will take that as an answer.
If possible, Aaron looks even more smug at that.
“Good girl.”
-
The drive to the hotel where the retreat is being held is only 2 hours away, which would’ve been perfectly easy, if you weren’t stuck in the car with Aaron.
You were planning on driving your own car with the top down, wind in your hair, and music blasting. You wanted to spend at least part of your summer vacation doing girly summery things, such as driving into the night with your hair whipping your face and feeling the humidity making your tank top stick to your back.
You also thought you would have time to yourself to think about Aaron and what the hell you got yourself into.
Instead, because you can’t tell if the universe loves or hates you, you have to take Aaron’s Range Rover because everyone else’s cars are packed full, and your dad wouldn’t let you drive by yourself. You tried not to show the excitement bloom on your face when your dad told you, but by the pointed look that Aaron gave you, you didn’t do a very good job.
So, it’s just you, Aaron, and the incredibly tangible sexual tension between you.
The first 30 minutes was easy. It took a while for everyone to find the correct route and there was a lengthy discussion over the phone about whether anyone wanted to stop anywhere for any reason. Eventually, you and at least 4 other similarly lavish cars made it onto the highway.
Aaron was silent for most of the phone call, saying that he didn’t have anywhere he wanted to stop at, and was just looking forward to the fancy clawfoot tub the hotel advertised on their website. You threw a glance at him at that, wondering if he was trying to tell you that he wanted to fuck in the bathtub, but nope. His eyes were firmly on the road, both arms on the steering wheel like a responsible adult or whatever.
You weren’t sure how he was able to act like nothing happened—like you weren’t about to let him just fuck you up against the wall in your childhood home, because currently, you felt like you were about to jump out of your skin from the nervous energy thrumming through you.
You fully ogle him now since it’s not like you have anything to hide. Even his side profile is attractive, but at this point you’re not surprised. Everything you’ve been noticing about him has been steadily driving you wild; the sharp cut of his jaw, the faint traces of stubble, and the way his hands are gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white.
You watch the bob of his Adam’s apple as he deadpans “You’re staring.”
You grin at him before you could help it. “It’s not my fault you’re so handsome. They should study you in art classes, maybe you can even get naked for it?”
The snort that comes out of Aaron’s mouth is sudden, and by the way his eyebrows pinch together like he’s thinking hard, he notices as well. “You really are insatiable.”
“You say that like we’ve even done anything yet,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, turning your head to the window to stare at the sun setting. It would be nighttime by the time you got to the hotel, but you’re already sleepy and debating taking a nap while Aaron drives.
You jump when you feel his hand on your thigh, large and warm. You’ve had other men put their hand on your thigh while they drive and it’s nice, maybe even comforting at times, but with Aaron, the action feels darker. It feels more possessive, heated, and just the sight of his huge hand squeezing the flesh of your thigh has you unconsciously squeezing your legs, trapping the tips of his fingers between them.
“Can you behave?” he wondered out loud. “Because you’re not showing me that you can until we get to the hotel.”
The challenge is clear in the deep timbre of his voice, nearly condescending in a way that makes your breath quicken. You vaguely thought about what he had planned for you at the hotel, luckily you had a whole room to yourself since none of your dad’s friends’ daughters wanted to come. You don’t necessarily blame them—you probably wouldn’t have come either if it weren’t for Aaron and the undoubtable promise that you will have the best sex of your life.
And you do want to wait, honestly. But right now, watching the way his biceps flex in the golden light and remembering the way he desperately grabbed at your hips has you rethinking.
So, you give him an innocent smile, reminiscent of the one you gave him earlier this week, and take a hold of his hand to intertwine your fingers together. The action is slightly risky, implying something about your relationship that neither have you discussed. You may be overthinking it, worried that Aaron would think you’re jumping to conclusions, but all of your reservations disappear when Aaron’s hand squeezes yours and brings your joined hands to rest in his lap.
He gives you a soft smile, one you’ve never seen before that makes your chest tighten, and turns his gaze back on the road.
The following 10 minutes are quiet besides the soft roar of the engine and the gentle hum of the radio. The sun setting washes the interior of the car with a warm gold, and you can’t help but notice the way both of your hands, still clasped together, just look so good together. Like you perfectly complemented each other.
You blame it on the fact that you’re starting to get bored when you wiggle your hand to free yourself from Aaron’s grasp to run your fingers along the top of his hands. You trace each knuckle before tracking the visible veins with a light touch, your fingers running up his wrist and to his forearm. The dusting of hair is soothing when you place a firmer hand onto his forearm, gripping it, and your heart thuds in your chest when you notice your thumb and middle finger can’t even touch each other.
He's just so big. His arms, his hands, his shoulders. The way he can so easily overpower you, manhandle you, domineering in a way that makes you want to act out even more just to see what he would do.
He throws you a curious glance when your hand moves up to his bicep, squeezing and feeling.
“Just touching,” you say, and then Aaron’s eyes are back on the road.
The next thing you do is completely spontaneous, out of character for you even, however you know being impulsive is what got you here in the first place.
You place your hand on his crotch.
He doesn’t jump because, of course not. If anything, he was expecting it by the way he just gives you another curious look. Your eyes are instantly drawn to the way his tongue flicks out to wet his lips and the sudden clenching of his jaw.
“Still just touching,” you repeat and turn your focus to your phone with your free hand, leaving your other hand in his lap.
You scroll mindlessly through several different apps for a couple minutes, not even reading anything because you’re too stunned with the fact that Aaron didn’t say anything or remind you to be on your best behavior. Your hand is still precariously placed on his crotch, the seam of his jeans warm against the palm of your hand.
You start scrolling more intently now, reading the entirety of at least every other post, before you start tentatively rubbing your fingers on where you can definitely feel the head of his dick through his pants. Aaron inhales sharply, so quietly you almost don’t hear it, and it’s all the permission you need.
You start pressing more firmly, grabbing him through his jeans to the best of your ability and tracing the line of his slowly hardening cock through the rough material. You grope at him, nearly shamelessly now, and it takes all of your willpower to not throw your phone to the backseat and jump into his lap.
Instead, you place your phone at your feet and turn your body towards him. His back is ramrod straight and his hands are grasping at the steering wheel like his life depends on it. If anyone passing by looked through the window, they would just assume that Aaron was one of those extremely attentive drivers. However, up close, you can see the tense line of his jaw, the way his brows are pinched together, and the way he’s attempting to hide the way he’s starting to breathe heavily through slightly parted lips.
It's intoxicating, and you want more.
Your hand begins to move up his zipper to the top button of his jeans. His eyes dart to you then, craning his neck slightly to look at you but also making sure to keep his eyes on the road, as if the road is even that busy.
“You really can’t listen, can you?”
That condescending tone again makes your brain nearly short-circuit. It’s like a dam breaks because suddenly you’re leaning over the console, making your breasts nearly spill out from your tank top, and you want him in your mouth and coming down your throat if it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. “Can I?”
 “Can you what, sweetheart? Use your words.”
Christ. “Please, can I suck on your cock?”
He hums nonchalantly, as if you can’t see the way he shifts in his seat or the way he’s hurriedly unbuttoning his jeans with one hand. “’Please?’ Looks like you do have some manners.”
And then he’s taking his cock out and you nearly combust on the spot. He’s not fully hard, but you still want nothing more than to feel him on your tongue.
You’re just about to unbuckle your seatbelt to throw yourself into his lap before he stops you by placing his hand over yours.
“Not your mouth, we don’t want other people to know what a dirty girl you are. Use your hands,” he says, nonchalant again in a way that makes your heart race and the ache between your thighs grow.
Although the idea of being caught with your head in his lap and cock down your throat suddenly sounds extremely appealing in a way you’ve never thought of before, you have no choice but to listen and follow his instructions.
You hesitatingly wrap your hand around him, watching in near fascination at the drop of precum that leaks out. He’s big here too, satisfyingly thick and warm in your hand. You move your hand up to smear the wetness around him and then start a steady rhythm of pumping his cock.
A strangled groan comes out of Aaron eventually, and you watch as he attempts to throw his head back in ecstasy while still watching the road with half-lidded eyes. The wide expanse of his pretty throat tempts you, imagining what it would be like to pepper kisses up to his tense jaw to help him relax.
He’s fully hard now, precum steadily leaking out and coating the palm of your hand. You attempt to vary your actions; twisting on the upstroke, squeezing when you’re at the base, or tracing your thumb against the head of his cock. The loud squelching noise makes you feel embarrassed and hot all at the same time, the way it’s drowning out the radio’s music. Your mouth waters as you watch the head of his dick disappear in your fist, wishing you could taste him or see the sheer bliss on his face as he fucks your mouth.
“You couldn’t even wait to get your hands on me, could you?” Aaron murmured, nearly sneering at you. “I bet if I let you, you would let me pull over and fuck you here on the side of the road.”
You swallow nervously, clenching your thighs and trying to ignore the obvious wetness you can feel in your own panties. You squeeze him harder, enthralled by the feeling of his hot flesh against you, and breathlessly whisper “I would.”
He hisses at that, nearly bucking his hips up to follow your hand. “You would let me fuck you anywhere I want.”
It wasn’t a question, but you still feel compelled to answer. “Yes.”
Just then, Aaron’s phone rings from the phone mount on the dashboard. Dread and something awfully similar to delight prickles at the back of your neck when you notice the caller ID being your father. You’re about to retract your hand until Aaron gives you a look out of the corner of your eye, almost like a glare, before his own hand is hot over yours to keep you there.
“Keep going.”
Before you can think of a snarky remark, Aaron swipes at his phone to answer.
“Hotchner.” Nonchalant, casual, as if he doesn’t have his leaking cock in the hands of his best friend’s daughter.
“Hey Hotch, we’re coming up on a great burger joint here in a couple of miles and I wanted to see if you guys were alright with that? I think we lost you.”
You must have been extremely distracted because you’re just now noticing you can’t see your father’s car ahead of you anymore. There are only a few cars on the highway now after finally passing all the city traffic, now driving through a somewhat rural area. You don’t blame yourself after all, because how often do you find yourself giving handjobs to hot older men in their cars?
“I was actually thinking of pulling over at a rest stop, someone’s not feeling well.” Aaron cranes his neck, raising an eyebrow at you.
Even in the darkness of the summer evening and the sparse streetlights bouncing off the dashboard, the pure and primal desire swimming in his eyes is clear and causes a flush to rise to your face.
“Yeah, it must have been lunch,” you attempt to joke, hoping that the rasp in your voice doesn’t give you away. You feel Aaron’s cock twitch in your hand.
Your dad hums through the tinny speakers. “Yeah, you don’t sound so good.”
You notice the car slowing down, not realizing that you were pulling up to a secluded area of a rest stop, right underneath a tree. You glance out the window and take in the fact that the nearest car is over 10 spots away and the closest streetlight is burnt out. You think of the discreet dark color of the car and the tinted windows. Anticipation curls at the bottom of your stomach.
“We’ll let you know when we’re back on the road.” And then Aaron immediately hangs up, parks the car, and leans over the console to kiss you with a hand cradling your cheek.
He cuts to the chase again, kissing you so deeply that your head spins. His mouth is soft but he’s assertive even like this. His hand moves to the back of your neck, taking a hold of you, and your mouth opens in a moan before you can stop yourself, allowing Aaron’s tongue to brush against yours.
When he pulls back, something like a needy whine erupts from your throat. You don’t realize that your hands moved to grasp at his polo, leaving Aaron’s cock free and pressed against his stomach.
“You drive me crazy,” Aaron mutters, brushing a lock of hair behind your head. His gesture and words are impossibly soft, a complete contrast to how he was kissing you, making your breath stutter in your chest.
“You drive me crazy,” you whisper breathily. “Please fuck me?”
He huffs a laugh at that, something you’re slowly starting to become familiar with, and tightens his hold on the back of your neck. There’s nothing soft in his eyes anymore. “Get in the back, now.”
You scramble to get out of the car, legs nearly shaking. The summer humidity is cloying, suffocating, and you rush to open the door to crawl in the backseat.
The seats are just as large and plush as up front, however there’s definitely more foot room that you’re sure Aaron will appreciate. You’re waiting in the middle seat, legs tucked underneath you, as you watch Aaron tuck himself back into his jeans and step out of the car with an air of nonchalance that somehow makes him even more attractive.
When he opens the door to climb into the back, your eyes meet and you suddenly feel frozen to the spot, because he starts to encroach into your space, nearly predatory. There’s a glint in his eyes as he places his hand on your back, lowering you so you’re laying on the seats. You unconsciously spread your legs so he could situate himself between them, and the feeling of his large and warm body between your thighs has you hitching them up on his hips.
“You don’t know how long I’ve been thinking about this,” Aaron murmurs before ducking his head to press his mouth against your jawline, down your neck, and finally finally sucking a mark where your shoulder meets.
You exhale a shaky moan, bringing your hands up to run down his back and feel how wide his shoulders are and how you can feel his muscles tense as he moves. The wet heat of his mouth, his obscenely large hands on your hips, and the way his figure nearly engulfs you is mesmerizing.
He pulls back to take a look at you, thumb coming up to press into the mark he made and putting light pressure against your neck. There’s something wild and possessive in his eyes, his lips parted like he can’t believe what’s happening. “There you go. Now you’ll remember who you belong to.”
It feels like your breath is knocked out of you and replaced with something equally possessive. “Are you going to fuck me or what?”
Something dark passes over his face. “And here I thought you were going to behave.”
Before you could say anything, Aaron is swiftly lifting your tank top up and over your head, throwing it somewhere towards the passenger seat, and groping your tits. He thumbs at your nipples, watching in awe as you arch your back and push your chest further into his hands. The sudden sensation, pleasure zinging up your spine, after being teased for an entire week is dizzying and you want to drown in it.
“You’re so needy for it, aren’t you?” Aaron says, casually, as he pinches at your nipples. You choke on your moan, the initial sting melting into pleasure that makes you feel drunk. “You’re practically begging for my cock.”
“Yes,” you manage to gasp out. Your hands scramble at his shoulders, running up to tangle the soft hairs at the nape of his neck between your fingers. “I need your cock inside me.”
He leans down to suck one of your nipples in his mouth, deft fingers continuing on the other. His mouth is so deliciously wet and hot, expertly licking around you in a way that’s slowly unraveling you, and you shiver when you think about where else his mouth can be of use. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head and you cant your hips up desperately in an effort to gain some sort of friction against the nearly overbearing ache between your thighs.
His hands come down to press your hips down in an effort to make you stop squirming and you feel him shift until his knee is pressing between your legs and against your pussy through your shorts. The feeling of his warm hands on you and the seam of your shorts rubbing against your clit causes an embarrassingly high-pitched whine to escape your throat.
“You’re teasing me,” you pant, tugging at his hair experimentally.
Another raspy groan erupts from Aaron and, if possible, you feel hotter. His mouth detaches from your nipple and you instantly miss the hot heat of his mouth, until he says “And what if I want to taste that pretty little cunt of yours?”
Imagining Aaron pressing open-mouthed kisses against your thighs, breathing hotly against your panties until he’s pressing his tongue against you, smearing even more wetness around until you’re nearly dripping onto the expensive upholstery has you whimpering. Your mind races as you imagine him pulling your panties aside so he can press his soft mouth against you, licking and lapping at your pussy like you’re a five-course meal, sucking on your clit until you’re screaming his name and begging him to stop.
No words come out, mind nearly melted just at the thought of Aaron looking up at you from between your thighs and his mouth on your cunt. Instead, you let out a breathless moan and attempt to grind down against Aaron’s knee, chasing the little stimulation you can get.
Aaron licks his lips as he watches you, eyes dark and predatory. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?” His thumbs briefly traces your hips, and you nearly miss the tender touch, before he’s hooking them into the waistband of your shorts and tugs them down. “But we don’t have time for that, so I’m just going to fuck that needy pussy of yours.”
It took quite a bit of wriggling and Aaron hitting his head against the roof of the car to get your shorts and panties off of you, and you’re about to joke that this was an exercise in of itself, until Aaron is settling back between your legs with his own legs crammed underneath him. You suddenly realize Aaron is still wearing all of his clothes, polo wrinkled and pants hanging loosely at his hips, while you’re completely naked and vulnerable, desperate and needy like he said.
His fingers dance across the soft expanse of your thighs until he presses a finger against you, so close to where you need him. You breathe unsteadily and have to close your eyes, suddenly feeling overwhelmed, when Aaron gently grazes between your folds. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me, honey. Is this all for me?”
You nod rapidly and push your hips down in an effort to tell him to hurry the fuck up.
Aaron tuts at you. “What did I say about using your words?” And then he’s forgoing your clit completely and pressing a thick finger inside.
You gasp, eyes shooting open and meeting his from where he’s watching your face so intently it would’ve been intimidating if you didn’t feel white-hot pleasure take over your body. “Yes, I’m wet, just for you,” you rush out.
He hums, satisfied. “Just for me, right?” He begins thrusting his finger inside of you, and the feeling of being filled and something finally happening has you arching your back against him again, soft whines escaping your mouth before you can help it. The lewd noises from your sopping pussy rings out in the small space of the car, jarring, but it just makes you feel hotter.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble, attempting to rut your hips down to meet his thrusts, steadily growing in pace. Your hand shoots down to take ahold of his forearm, nearly distracted at the veins popping out, when you feel a second finger prodding at you. “Please just fuck me already, I’m ready.”
You watch Aaron’s mouth form what has to be a reprimand, scolding you for being so desperate, but then it closes and forms into something softer even as his gaze is fixated on his thick fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy. He leans in and kisses you before you realize, just a soft press of his lips against yours. When he pulls back, he’s still wearing a faint smile, and tucks a stray strand of your hair behind an ear. It’s all so painstakingly affectionate, you feel at a loss for words again but for a completely different reason you can’t name.
“How can I say no to you?” he mutters, almost to himself, and it shocks you to your core.
He doesn’t wait for a response and pulls out a condom from his back pocket. You watch as he’s about to tear the foil packet open, thoughts turning over and over in your head, before you exclaim “It’s fine, I’m on the pill.”
He pauses and stares at you, serious based off the pinch of his brows. “Are you sure? I don’t mind…”
“I’m sure,” you say, throwing your arms around his neck so you can run your fingers through his hair. And you are absolutely sure, confident, because you know the cherry on top of this whole experience would be feeling his cock spill in your pussy and filling you up. “I want to feel you.”
You watch as he groans, closes his eyes, and leans his forehead against yours, staring at the flutter of his long eyelashes. “You are killing me, sweetheart.”
You let out a breathless laugh. “Are you kidding me? I can say the same for you.”
Because if you thought Aaron looked good wearing a suit in those blurry pictures on Facebook, it doesn’t even compare to how he looks now. His polo tightly stretched over his shoulders, slightly disheveled from where you were grabbing onto him, belt unbuckled and pants hanging deliciously half-open from his hips, and hair tousled, the gel maintaining his professional appearance giving way to make him look younger. He’s so unbelievably hot you almost believe you’re dreaming.
You watch as he pushes his jeans and boxers down enough to where his cock pops out, the head a sympathetic dark red from where he must’ve been achingly hard this entire time. Before you make another attempt to have him in your mouth, he’s pushing in, stretching you deliciously open and making you grip harder at the hair at his nape.
“Fuck, you’re still so tight for me,” Aaron grunts, his hands flying to grasp onto your hips.  
Although you can feel him sink into you, inch by inch, you’re mesmerized by the sharp focus on his face, the pinch in his brow and eyes clenched shut. As if he’s trying not to throw away all abandon and pound into you, and the thought is so intoxicating it makes your head spin.
“Oh my god,” you mumble. He bottoms out, his cock finally pushed all way in your pussy, and he’s much bigger, thicker, than you realized. It feels so, so good—being filled up with his hard cock, his hips pressing against your thighs as they splay out the way you’ve been dreaming of for the past week.
“You okay?” Aaron asks, gentle again, and before you could answer, he’s pulling back and thrusting back into you.
A gasp wretches out of you and your hands scramble at his back, pulling him down because you need him to be closer, need his large body pushing down on you and making you take him.
He lets you, giving you a mockingly sympathetic look, and leans down to press an open-mouthed kiss against your jawline. He starts a steady rhythm then—thrusting in and out of you and knocking the breath out of you. “You’re going to take my fat cock, baby? I know you’ve been begging for it all week; you need it so bad, don’t you?”
Jesus Christ.
Words escape you again, instead, your mouth hangs open as you attempt to nod in response. Even though the car’s AC was blasting, you were covered in sweat and sliding up the seats with every thrust of Aaron’s hips. You definitely weren’t complaining, probably wouldn’t even be able to because sounds you didn’t even know you were capable of making kept coming out of you, eyes nearly permanently rolled back in your head. It felt so good, you didn’t think fucking could ever feel this good, but Aaron continues to exceed expectations.
You hitch your legs up his hips higher and let out a high-pitched whine at the change in angle, hot pleasure zinging up your spine. Aaron grunts, something dark and masculine that makes you preen, and his hips start snapping harder, faster.
“Look at you,” he murmurs lowly right into your ear. “Being fucked so good you can’t even speak.”
He shifts again, hands hooking underneath your thighs and, with your nod, presses your knees to your chest until they’re next to your ears, legs dangling over his shoulders. You wrap your arms around your thighs, holding them in place, and your eyes nearly roll back into your head when Aaron’s cock slides even deeper into your cunt with a wet sound. He feels heavenly, even despite not having touched your clit at all.
He fucks you relentlessly and you think your brain has melted out of your ears because you just take it. The sound of his skin slapping against yours, the litany of groans and praises that fall from his lips, and your nonstop whimpering gasps is heady. You don’t even care if you can’t come just from him rutting into you alone, it feels too fucking good.
He sits back up, not once breaking his brutal pace, and makes unwaveringly intense eye contact with you. “My beautiful girl takes my cock so well, making such pretty noises. I can’t wait to fill this pussy up with my come.”
You really did not expect Aaron to have the dirty mouth he does, but again, you’re not complaining. Instead, you bring one of your arms down to snake between your thighs where you’re absolutely soaked in your combined wetness and sweat to circle your clit. The added stimulation, finally, has your thighs shaking and your pussy clenching around him. You squirm a bit, because his belt buckle has started to dig into you from where his pants are pooling around his knees, but you’re suddenly so close.
“Fuck, Aaron…”
He licks his lips at that, starts to fuck into you faster somehow. He knocks your hand aside to replace with his own and you absolutely mewl when you feel the rough callous of his thumb gently circling your clit, impossibly slow. “Is my good girl going to come? You’re going to come all over my cock, sweetheart?”
Your heart is pounding in your ears, and you can barely detect the strain in Aaron’s voice, like he’s close too. “Yes, yes, please,” you stutter, feeling your gut tighten and sweat breaking out on the back of your neck. “Harder.”
Aaron lets out a shaky laugh. “Since you asked so nicely.”
And then he’s rubbing your clit mercilessly, almost too rough if your nerves weren’t already so close to snapping. You let out a string of strangled whines, your hands coming up to hold onto Aaron’s free arm for dear life. You’re so wet that his fingers just glide over you, the wet noises of him fucking into you getting you hotter, making the coil in your stomach wind tighter, but it’s still not enough.
You watch with half-lidded eyes as Aaron lifts his right hand from where he was definitely leaving bruises on your hip to place at the base of your throat. Your eyes widen but you don’t stop him because the feeling sends your mind spinning, realizing that you have placed so much trust in this man and he’s thoughtful enough to care for you, treasure you, and fuck you so hard he’s definitely ruined you for anyone else.
His eyes are impossibly dark, hair falling into his face, and you meet his gaze unblinkingly as he puts light pressure on your throat. “Come for me.”
You don’t know if it’s the hand on your neck, his cock frantically fucking into you, or the soft baritone of his voice that has you pushing over the edge. You come with a choked gasp of his name, hips and thighs shaking almost uncontrollably. You swear your vision whites out because you don’t think you’ve ever come so hard in your fucking life.
You distantly hear Aaron grunt your name, feel him fuck into you desperately and erratically. He lets go of your throat, you secretly already miss the weight of his hand, and he clutches at your hips as he chases his own orgasm. It doesn’t take long for his hips to stutter, coming into you with a guttural moan that sends a shiver down your back. He grinds his hips into you, like he’s making sure he’s giving you every last drop he has, and the thought has you whimpering.
You stay like that as both of you catch your breath. Your thighs and hips are starting to ache uncomfortably, pussy sore in a way where you know you’ll be feeling it tomorrow, but you watch the way Aaron runs his hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes so he can lean in to kiss you, and it’s all worth it.
He pulls out slowly, dick twitching half-way inside of you when you moan at the empty feeling. You feel his come instantly start to drip out of you and onto the seats, and the dangerous glint in Aaron’s eyes has you squirming, heat licking up your back.
“Are you okay?” he asks, leaning over to open the console and hopefully rummage around for a hidden towel. You hope he doesn’t pull out old and scratchy fast-food napkins like the ones you have crammed in your glove compartment.
You laugh breathlessly, slowly dropping your legs down to dangle a bit more comfortably. “More than okay.”
He comes back with a pouch of wet wipes, slightly used, and you’re surprised at the sudden twinge of jealousy you feel when you imagine why he has wet wipes ready in his car and how many other women he’s fucked in his expensive car.
He’s thorough in cleaning you up, chest rapidly rising and falling as he continues to catch his breath. As if he can read your mind, he looks up at you curiously with no trace of the stern persona he had when he was fucking you mindlessly. You had thought you hid your jealousy well, however you find yourself glaring at the wipes in his hand.
He gives you an achingly sweet smile, a surprise dimple making an appearance, and leans over you where you’re still sweating all over his backseat. “Every parent has wet wipes in their car.”
You feel your cheeks heat at being caught, that he somehow knew you were drowning in the sudden onslaught of jealousy clawing up your chest. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.” He throws the used wipes on the floor to pick up later, and then he’s wrestling around with you until you’re somehow laying on top of him across the seats, both of your legs bunched up and tangled together.
You’re sticky and sweaty, and Aaron has nearly sweated through his polo, causing it to cling to his chest in a way that has you wanting to put your hands all over him. So, you do, running your palms up and down him so intently that it gets a chuckle out of him.
“All of your clothes are still on.”
“Well, I was a little busy.” Oh, he’s a little cheeky after sex.
Both of you are laying in comfortable silence as you still catch your breaths, Aaron moreso than you, when his phone goes off where it hasn’t moved from the phone mount. The bright light causes you to squint, and you turn to press your face into Aaron’s chest with a whine. “Don’t pick up.”
“Alright, alright,” Aaron says despite him making no moves anyway to get up. He cranes his neck to get a good look at the caller ID and you can feel his body stiffen. “It’s your dad.”
And just like that, a bucket of cold water is splashed over you. You just had sex with your dad’s best friend in his expensive Range Rover in some sketchy rest stop.
You must have froze as well because then Aaron is running a hand up and down your back, making you shiver. He’s trying to comfort you, you know that, but honestly your thoughts immediately melt into other things that rely on his hands on you. Like pushing your head down between his legs. Maybe he’s right and you really are insatiable.
“Come on, let’s get going.”
-
The car ride the rest of the way to the hotel is mostly silent between you two, the only noises being the wind deafening you and your hair slapping into your face since he rolled the windows down.
To air out the stench of sex in the car, you remember.
You would almost think Aaron was mad, the way he didn’t try to make conversation with you, and you knew that you would be spiraling if it wasn’t for the fact that he held your hand in his lap the entire time.  
You probably wouldn’t be much for conversation anyway—you’re already trying not to let your mind race about what you were going to do.
You’re only here for a couple of weeks, you go to school across the country, and technically, this was only supposed to be a summer fling. You don’t technically need to tell your dad about what happened.
You turn to look at Aaron, unabashedly. His hair is still tussled, thanks to your fingers, and there’s sweat beading along his forehead from the summer humidity. You stare at the sharp slope of his nose, the way the lights from the highway reflect in his dark eyes, and you’re suddenly wracked with the feeling of not wanting to let him go.
He squeezes your hand when he notices you staring for too long. He turns to you, most likely seeing the desperation on your face. He misinterprets it, thinking you’re running over what you’re going to tell your father over and over in your head. He has no idea that you want to keep seeing him, that you want to make this work somehow, whatever is between you two.
“We’ll figure it out.”
When you notice his gentle smile, the methodical way he runs his thumb over the back of your hand, you believe him.
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lacydollette · 3 months ago
Text
ROUGH SEX WITH YOUR CO-STAR ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
pairing: actor!jensen x actress!reader
warnings: jensen ackles x fem!reader, actor!jensen, actress!reader, age gap, 18+, mdni, dom!jensen, sub!reader, oral (male receiving), forced blow job, hair pulling, choking, p in v (unprotected), praise kink, jensen being freaky asf, wc: 3.8k
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The sound of laughter and music filled the bar as you and cast of The Boys gathered around the table, enjoying a rare evening off after a whirlwind of interviews, conventions, and press events promoting the new season. You sat near the edge of the group, a glass of wine in your hand as you watched the scene unfold. You’d been on the road with them for two weeks now, traveling from state to state to promote the show, and despite the exhausting schedule, nights like this made it all worth it.
Especially with your costar Jensen sitting just across the table, his smile lighting up the room, making everyone around him feel at ease. And despite your usual calm aura, he could tell you were taking it all in, probably still adjusting to the chaotic rhythm of show business.
You had joined the cast as the newest love interest for Soldier Boy, Jensen's character, and while you’d been nervous about working with such an established actor— he quickly made you feel comfortable. He was kind, funny, and despite being almost fifteen years older than you, he never treated you like the "new girl."
When you’d first started working together, Jensen was like a mentor to you but soon enough,m he found himself noticing more than just your talent. While you also found yourself noticing things about him—like the way he smiled at you when you two ran lines together or how his hand would linger just a little longer on your arm when you wrapped a scene.
And then, of course, there was the fact that you found him undeniably attractive. Everyone knew Jensen was good-looking, but up close? It was something else entirely. You’d kept it professional, though. He'd just come off a divorce, and the last thing you wanted was to complicate things for him or yourself. Still, there was no denying the chemistry between you two, both on-screen and off. And Jensen wasn't oblivious to the tension that had developed between you over the last few weeks either..
"Hey, y/n," Jensen called from across the table, snapping you out of your thoughts. He was leaning forward, his voice cutting through the laughters around you. "You've been quiet tonight. Everything okay?" You smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yeah, just still getting used to it." Jensen grinned, his eyes glistening in the dim light. "You sure? We've got drinks, great company. Seems like a perfect night to me."
You chuckled, sipping your wine to hide the fact that your heart had started beating just a little faster. He'd been like this all night—talkative, laughing easily, and more physical than usual. His hand had brushed your arm more than once when you talked, and every time, your skin began to burn—in a good way.
As the night wore on, the group started to thin out. Some of the cast heading back to the hotel, but you, Jensen, and a few others stuck around, ordering another round of drinks. The bar was cozier now, quieter, and the low lighting gave it an intimate atmosphere.
So Jensen found himself talking to you more closely, the casual distance between you shrinking without you even realizing it. "So, how are you feeling about everything?" He asked, his voice low as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass. "The show, all this traveling. It's a lot, huh?"
"Yeah," you admitted, meeting his gaze. "It's been amazing, though. A little surreal, honestly. Sometimes I still can't believe I'm here, working with you guys."
"Well, you're killing it," Jensen said, his eyes locking onto yours. "I mean it, y/n. You've been great this season." Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down, trying to compose yourself. "Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you."
"Don't downplay it. You're talented as hell. And...you're fun to work with. Really fun," he added, letting his words hang in the air. He hadn't meant for them to sound as loaded as they did, but now that he'd said it, he found himself holding your gaze a little longer, wondering if you’d caught the shift in his tone.
Your heart raced as you glanced up at him, trying to read his expression. Was he just being friendly? Or was there something more behind his words? "I—" you started, but the words caught in your throat. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to say, or even if you should say anything at all. But it was hard to ignore the way he was looking at you, the warmth in his eyes, the subtle way his knee brushed against yours under the table.
"You know," he said, his tone lighter now, though his eyes never left yours, "I think we've spent more time together on this road trip than we did shooting the season." You laughed softly, grateful for the slight change in topic. "Yeah, but the road trip's been fun. It's nice getting to see different places, meet fans, and, you know, bond with the cast." Jensen's grin widened. "Bond, huh? Is that what we're calling it?" You laughed, clearly trying to brush off the tension. "What else would you call it?"
"Something else entirely," he said, his voice low, a hint of challenge that sent a shiver through you. Before you could respond though, Karl called over from the bar, breaking the moment. Jensen leaned back, laughing at something the others were saying, but his hand lingered on your lower arm, his thumb tracing a small, almost absent-minded circle against your skin. It was such a subtle gesture, but it sent a thrill through you.
You couldn't shake the feeling that there was more going on here than just casual flirting. There was tension between the two of you, a pull you couldn't ignore, and you were certain he felt it too. But as much as you wanted to explore whatever this was, you knew you had to be careful. Still, you couldn't deny the way your heart fluttered every time he looked at you. For now, you’d play it cool. But something told you that whatever was happening between you wasn't going away anytime soon.
Eventually, even the most fun nights had to end. The bar's lights dimmed and everyone decided it was time to call it a night. You all made your way back to the hotel, the cool night air helping to clear your mind, which had been buzzing with thoughts of Jensen all night. When you finally reached your room, you kicked off your shoes and put on your silk pyjamas before flopping onto the bed with a long sigh. The events of the night played in your head—Jensen's teasing remarks, the way he'd stayed close to you, how his touch lingered just a bit too long. There was definitely something there, you could feel it.
But as your thoughts swirled, you suddenly realized something. Your phone. Where was your phone? You shot up, mentally retracing your steps. Then it hit you—you’d given it to Jensen earlier in the night to hold onto because you hadn't brought a purse with you. "Dammit," you muttered, cursing yourself for forgetting. Now you’d have to go to his room and get it back. You groaned inwardly, knowing it would feel awkward after the way you’d been acting all night. But there was no way you could go to bed without your phone.
Reluctantly, you got up, slipped your shoes back on, and headed out of your room. You walked down the hallway, heart thumping a little faster than it should have. You told yourself it was just because you didn't want to bother him this late, but you knew the truth.
It was Jensen.
And the way he made you feel, had you on edge.
When you reached his door, you took a deep breath and knocked. No response. You frowned and knocked again, a little louder this time. Still nothing. You were just about to turn and head back to your room when the door swung open. And there stood Jensen, a towel wrapped loosely around his hips, his hair wet and dripping from the shower. He looked at you with those piercing eyes, a playful smirk on his lips, completely unfazed by the fact that he was half-naked in front of you.
Your breath caught in your throat. God, he looked unbelievably sexy. His broad chest was still glistening with water, and your eyes instinctively trailed down over his abs to the towel hanging low on his hips. You were completely overwhelmed, mind scrambling to find words, but all you could do was stand there, staring like a deer caught in the headlights.
"Uh... I—" you stammered, trying to get rid of any filthy thoughts that were coming to you. "I need my phone... I think you have it? I gave it to you earlier at the bar." Jensen raised an eyebrow, amused by the way your cheeks flushed as he smirked. "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that," he said, his voice playful. "Come on in. I think I put it on the nightstand."
You hesitated for a split second, heart hammering in your chest, but you forced yourself to move, stepping inside. The room was dimly lit, cozy, and the scent of his sweet body wash hung in the air. You tried not to focus on how close he was standing to you as you made your way to the nightstand where your phone sat.
As you reached for it, you could feel his eyes on you, the tension between you almost palpable. You picked up the phone, your hand trembling slightly, and turned to face him. He was leaning casually against the wall now, arms crossed, still wearing nothing but that damn towel. His demeanor was teasing, but there was something else in his gaze too—something that made your pulse race even faster.
"You know," Jensen said, his voice low and smooth, "you could've just called for it. Oh wait," he added with a smirk, "you didn't have your phone." You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. "Yeah, a little hard to call without it," you replied, attempting to sound nonchalant but clearly nervous.
Jensen chuckled softly, pushing off the wall and walking toward you, stopping just a few feet away. He looked down at you with that same playful glint in his eyes, the air between you thick with something unspoken. "You sure that's all you came for?" he asked, his voice dropping lower. He saw the hesitation in your eyes, the flicker of doubt, but also curiosity, maybe even a hint of longing.
Your breath hitched. You could feel the tension between you two, the way his gaze held yours, and for a brief second, you wondered what would happen if you just... leaned in. But then reality came crashing back. Jensen had just gone through a divorce. He was vulnerable, and you didn't want to complicate things, not like this. Not now.
You forced yourself to smile, though your heart was still racing. "Yeah," you said, holding up your phone as if to prove your point. "Just needed this." Jensen's eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he stepped back a little, his smirk softening. "Well, you've got it now."
"Thanks," you said quickly, eyes dropping down to the floor as you couldn't bare to look into his piercing green eyes, yet the pull too was strong, so that you raised your head again just seconds later. His eyes flickered with something unreadable as he watched you standing there, still holding onto your phone like a lifeline. The playful smirk never leaving his face, his voice low and laced with a teasing challenge.
"Yet you're still here."
The words hung in the air between you, thick with tension. You froze, the grip on your phone tightening. Were you imagining things? Misreading him? The way he had been so flirtatious all night, the casual touches, the lingering glances-it couldn't be nothing, could it?
Your mind was spinning, trying to make sense of the situation. You weren’t sure if you were overthinking or if you were too tipsy to trust your own judgment. But the way he looked at you now, like he was daring you to stay, made your pulse race.
He must have noticed the hesitation in your eyes because his expression shifted. He moved toward you, closing the distance, his hand finding your waist with an almost deliberate slowness. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and before you could process what was happening, he pulled you just a bit closer.
It was a bold move, one that made your heart skip a beat. You were taken aback, breath hitching in your chest as you looked up at him. His face was inches from yours now, and the tension was so thick it was hard to breathe. For a moment, your mind raced with mixed emotions. You knew this could complicate everything. And yet, the pull between you was undeniable.
Jensen's thumb gently brushed your side, his touch grounding you as the intensity of the moment swirled around you. His green eyes bore into yours, and for a split second, you were unsure of what to do. But then, in the next heartbeat, your hesitation melted away. Without thinking, you leaned in, your lips meeting his in a rush of heat and urgency.
The second your mouths touched, it was like a dam had broken. The tension that had been simmering between you all night finally erupted into something raw and electric. Jensen responded immediately, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled you fully against him, eager to finally feel you, his lips moving hungrily against yours.
Your mind blurred with a heady mix of desire and disbelief, your hands instinctively finding their way to his bare chest, your fingers grazing his muscles still damp from the shower. You could taste the faint bitterness of alcohol on his lips, and the fact that you were both a little tipsy only seemed to add to the intensity of the moment.
His hands roamed up your sides, one slipping into your hair as the kiss deepened, his body pressing you gently but firmly against the edge of the bed. Your heart raced, pulse pounding in your ears as you softly plunged onto the soft mattress.
You unconsciously bit onto your lower lip as you looked up at him, unholy images replaying in your mind as your gaze fell onto his happy trail, wanting nothing more than to rip that damn towel off of him. Jensen noticed how your eyes stuck to his body just a little too long, eliciting a chuckle out of him, "Go ahead, no need to be all shy now."
For a second, a small ounce of doubt crept into your mind—this was risky, so risky. You two were co-stars, and if anyone found out, it could lead to complications neither of you were ready for. But as Jensen's hand reached down to your chin, grabbing it with his big palm, that doubt vanished, replaced by desire.
You couldn't bare the need for him any longer, immediately getting to work by dropping onto your knees, the anticipation almost killing you as Jensen teasingly began to remove the towel from his hips. His eyes never left yours as he pulled down the white cloth, revealing his already hard cock. The sight of him, made your breath catch in your throat, gulping as you saw how big he actually was.
You came face to face with his length, looking up at him through hooded eyes, "Come on, show me what that pretty mouth can do." He groaned, immediately sending tingles to your core, desperately pressing your thighs together. With easy hands you held him in your soft palms, running your thumb over his tip and spreading the already leaking precum over it.
Pressing your lips together you gathered all your courage and inched closer, sticking out your tongue and licking a stripe all the way from his base to the tip. You repeated this action a few more times, then fully taking him in your mouth as far as you could go.
"Holy fuck, baby." Jensen growled, his head thrown back in pleasure as he couldn't believe how good your wet and warm mouth felt around him, only having imagined it before. You began to swirl your tongue around his cock, jerking off what you couldn't get in your mouth, as he reached to grab a fist full of your hair, yanking you back a little so he could grab at your neck with his other hand.
"You wanna be a good girl for me, right?" He mumbled in between grunts, admiring your plump lips that were so desperately trying to get back to sucking him off. You nodded hastily, this man could literally do anything to you and you’d thank him after.
"Good then, open up wide, baby."
He instantly took advantage of your parted lips and plunged himself down your throat in a swift motion, your eyes widening as you had to gag at the force. "Shhh, relax." Jensen cooed, his voice now softer as he gave you some time to get used to your mouth being full of him.
Once you gave him a small nod he began rolling his hips slowly into your mouth, your hands grabbing at his thighs to steady yourself. It was a weird feeling to have him down your throat so deep but as he continued his movements you began to like it, wanting him to go even harder.
You jerked your face closer to his abdomen, earning a deep and breathless chuckle from him. Realizing how eager you were lapping at his dick he picked up his pace, his tip hitting the back of your throat over and over again, driving you crazy.
The built up of saliva and precum that was dripping from the corner of your lips, helped Jensen even more to slide his cock in and out of your warm mouth. His grunts became louder and his hands were gripping the back of your head as he fucked your throat, your moans sending vibrations throughout his body, and he knew that if he continued he wouldn't last any longer.
But cuming just in your mouth tonight wouldn't satisfy him, he needed more. Pulling you off him by your hair you shot him a confused look, scared that he might've changed his mind and didn't want any of this, that it was just the alcohol on which behalf he was acting out, but his words quickly made all your doubts vanish.
"Need to finish inside you, y/n." He said, before pulling you back onto your feet and yanking your small frame onto the silky sheets. Towering over you he ran his hands along the soft fabric of your pyjama shorts, pulling them down harshly as you freed yourself from the little top that was just barely covering your tits anyway.
By the way his eyes widened and the way he pulled some air in sharply, you could tell that he took notice of your dripping wet cunt, already leaking onto the sheets. "Jensen.." you whined, the urge to finally feel him inside taking over you.
"Patience, baby." He smirked up at you, eyes full of lust as he placed some teasing kisses onto the insides of your soft thighs, making you squirm in desperation. Jensen jerked his still glistening cock for a few times, his one hand stayed at your chest, playing with your tit, as he lined himself up with your entrance.
Looking up at you for approval, you nodded which gave him the sign to proceed, his tip brushing over your clit and through your slick folds to lube himself up, before pushing into your needy cunt fast. You gasped at the sudden fullness, his cock stretching out your walls so perfectly, making Jensen grunt as he burried himself completely inside you, as if you were made for him.
"Gosh, look how perfect your pretty cunt is sucking me in. Really needed me that bad, huh?" Your eyes scrunched together, feeling yourself get wetter from his words alone. You rapidly nodded, breathing out a soft "mhm..shit..yes" as he chuckled, leaning down to press open mouthed kisses to your neck.
He was quick to go back to his previous action, rolling his hips smoothly against yours as he picked up his pace, soon slamming into you at an ungodly speed. The almost pornografic noises that came out of your mouth made him chuckle, clearly knowing that there might be some complaints by the morning, but he didn't care.
He kept on pounding into your eager pussy, your legs wrapped around his hips by now, making him hit much deeper, if that was even humanly possible. "Fuck.. I'm gonna.." you cursed underneath your breath, feeling the familiar knot in your lower stomach screaming for release.
"Cum all over me, sweetheart." Jensen groaned into your ear, his hot breath making your skin prickle. His hand crept down, two of his digits rubbing circles at your clit, causing you to let out a loud, almost scream-like, moan as you released all over him, creaming his cock.
"Fucking shit.." he grunted, teeth pressing into his lower lip as he gave you a few more hard thrusts, pearls of sweat forming on his forehead as he chased his own high. Groaning out loud you felt him twitch inside of you, cuming deep in your cunt, painting your slick walls white.
As both of you calmed down you still couldn't believe that this was actually real, even as Jensen pulled out of you and plopped onto the bed beside you. "Shit y/n, that shower was hella pointless..definitely not complaining though." He laughed, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he wrapped one of his big arms around your waist, pulling you close.
"Well, screams for a round two then." You replied, stroking his muscular chest. "You mean this or the shower?" He eyed you down, a smirk plastered on his face as he pointed in between you two. You just shrugged, yet the devilish smile plastered on your lips gave it away.
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wow this was a wild ride, and i am actually kinda proud of this one !!
feedback and requests are greatly appreciated !!
tags: @gibson-g1rl @beausling @angelicjackles @nuemanfilms @hischrrypie @starkeysprincess @drewsarms @rubyvhs @deansenvy @supernatural-wolfie @sammyluvr @nxptvn @rafecameroninterlude @deansbite
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anundyingfidelity · 4 months ago
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ESCAPADE — Logan Howlett
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Summary: For a weekend, you and Logan decide to travel away from the school. Needless to say, you can't keep your hands off each other.
Pairing: Established Logan x female mutant reader. Also teacher!reader at Xavier's school. Set after DoFP ending where everyone is alive because I say so, but can be read however you want lol.
Warnings: pure smut, unprotected p in v, sex at a motel, reverse cowgirl, dirty talk, all the smutty stuff.
Notes: main language is not English, but hope you enjoy this filthy drabble. I need him to rail me so bad, bye.
GEN MASTERLIST!
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God, he missed this so fucking much.
Logan groans, hands grabbing tightly your hips as you fuck yourself on top of him. Your ass against his skin every time you lower down to impale on his cock, over and over.
The sight is just completely perfect, holding yourself against his abdomen, back against his chest as he rests by the head of the bed.
And shit, he loves to hear you so damn much. Hear you whimper, moan, and sigh with every thrust he gives up to meet your flesh. He even would love to see your tits bouncing in front of him...
“Fuck, yes!”
That sweet out-loud moan leaving your lips causes him to pick up the pace. Your praise never fails to make him go feral, going rough and faster than before.
“Shit, right there- fuck! Feels so good!” Your pussy walls welcoming his cock, glistening with your arousal every time he almost pulled completely outside your hole.
It was your second day in that same motel room, fucking like animals. This wasn’t the plan at all when you originally left the mansion. Both of you just needed to be away at least for a couple of days to have time for yourselves, far from everything and everyone. You wanted to have an actual trip with nice dates, good food, and see the city, but the short time you two had was enough to just have you there on the bed, round after round. He missed your sweet sounds, that dirty side of you when no one was around. How you’d let him rail you as he pleased.
This is all he wanted. It is all he needs right now. You, on top of him, spread and ready for his cock to fuck your guts all day and night.
“Shit, you’re right there already again?” he grunts, feeling himself squeezed by your cunt.
He knows you’re close. And you just came again a couple of moments ago. Neither of you is counting how many times you already came as he fucked you. You whimper again, biting your lip and scratching his skin with your nails.
“Yeah, you there again,” he chuckles with that raspy voice. Immediately, his hands take you by the back of your knees, accomodating you on his lap. You yelp and stop for a second, letting him guide you again. Logan doesn’t give you a moment to get adjusted to new angle, instead thrusting up and fucking you so good that he knows the whole place is now aware of what is happening inside your room.
“I love how you feel around me,” he bites the shell of your ear as you arch your back, head on his shoulder, feeling a sweet release hitting you. “So fucking warm and wet, always ready for me…”
His voice does things on you and finally, your legs start shaking, pussy throbbing around his still hard cock.
“Shit-shit-oh!”
You try to close your thighs together but he does such a great job on keeping you spread for him, your hands are on his wrists trying to keep him away, but as much as you are a mutant yourself, Logan is too fucking strong even for you. You feel that familiar sting on your belly, crying out loud due to the overstimulation. The sensation is everywhere, taking upon your senses.
“Fucking come around me, baby,” Logan hisses, hips stuttering before finally spilling inside you with a low grunt, filling you up to the brim. His thrusts slow down, just enough to make sure you take his hot seed inside your cunt.
And then, in the aftermath, he leans against your cheek, placing soft kisses and mumbling against your ear as you take it all.“Yeah, that’s it… Such a good girl…”
“That was so good,” you mumble, angling your face so you finally kiss him, slow and wet, until he softens inside you. The feeling of his beard burns your skin deliciously every time you kiss. “Tired already?” you tease with a smirk once your lips are apart.
But he is thrusting into you softly again. You moan but smile back at him.
“Y’know I never grow tired of you, I might have to show you again, sweetheart.”
You clench around him, teasingly.
“With pleasure.”
He grunts in response. If only you had more time...
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meganegatari · 7 months ago
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Bro I literally eat up ur writing every time😭can u do ellie using a vibe on u?
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before you read.
☆: KILLING 3 BIRDS W ONE STONE HEHE. i feel these all go well, so why not. sorry for the insane wait, and the wildly lazy writing...me putting this off forever only to bang out a crappy blurb in like 2 mins...also can't stick to a single aesthetic WHATEVA.
◇: vibrator use, fingering, porn w/out plot (sawry), dom-ish ellie (but she's still kinda silly), overstimulation, squirting, aftercare at the end (all r! recieving).
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"you can take it, doin' so good." she murmurs under her breath, her face contorted in concentration.
you squeal when ellie presses the vibrator hard against your poor, overworked clit, the sensations almost too much to bear. but no matter how overwhelming it may be, it's still so mind numbingly good. the device has been set on a mode midway for the past...however long, and you've completely lost count of how many times she's made you cum thus far. for all you knew, it could have been well into the double digits, and she didn't seem to be stopping any time soon.
ellie’s eyes were dark, low with blown out pupils. they remain trained on you, flickering between observing your facial expressions, your squirming body, covered in a shiny layer of sweat, and what's going on under her hands. "...ellie, hold on...wait." you gasp out, struggling to catch your breath.
she detaches the device from you, her tattooed hand traveling up your body, settling on the side of your face to cup your cheek, and wipe away a stray tear that had escaped from your eye. "need a break, babe?" she says, her gaze softening. that honey voice she puts on, featuring a light domineering timbre, it immediately makes you wet all over again and you whimper quietly, bucking your hips up in pursuit of more stimulation. she notices—of course she does, observant as a fox—and her lips stretch into a sneer, "yeah that's what i thought, still need more." she chuckles, before thrusting the tip of the toy back onto your swollen clit, biting her lip when she watches you arch backward, mantras of her name and pleas falling from your lips.
her free hand, which was previously resting on your knee, flies down the inside of your parted thighs, grazing the heated skin, and she teases your hole with two digits, eagerly observing the reactions. she quickly stuffs her middle two fingers inside with ease, slick and pearly cum leaking down her slender knuckles. curling upwards to massage your g-spot, the pleasure is causing explosions of colors to appear in your vision, your eyes are filling with tears once again.
"just gimme one more, okay?" ellie orders gently, clicking buttons to increase the intensity of the vibrator even more, and you nearly shriek. out of instinct your legs fight to close around her hands, but she's quick to push your knee to the side again, tutting. "nuh-uh, don't do that. just one more. say the safeword if you really want me to stop, alright?" you open one eye and nod meekly at her, and she resumes. within no time at all you feel the brink of orgasm swell in your lower abdomen once more, your legs trembling at every purr of the toy. and she can tell as well by the way you're whining and panting, all with a fucked out, lazy smile playing on your face.
silent moans trapped in your throat, you feel the blinding ecstasy overtake your body, blacking out your senses for a moment. she has lessened the setting to work you through it effectively, all while muttering sweet praises throughout.
"god, look at that." she whispers in awe once it's over, discarding the device on the floor and rubbing her hands across your legs to ease the tension in your thighs, making sure you're okay. she hovers over you to press a tender kiss to your forehead, then over your entire face, grinning when she hears you laugh.
her goofy tone returns, "fuckin' squirted all over me, baby. we'll clean up just gimme a sec." she cuddles up to you, nuzzling her face in the crook of your neck, sighing and softly stroking the top of your head. "next time we'll do a couple more, make a new personal best, whaddaya think?"
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tags (idk why some didn’t work): @andersonfilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @r3starttt @littlefallenangel111 @srooch @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ine @anniee333 @flowrmoth @liddysflyer @fortune777 @claude999 @brunaedn @lanabaezzzz
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marzipanandminutiae · 8 months ago
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ok but what are YOUR favorite and probably real victorian funfacts?
There genuinely were some doctors who thought riding in trains would cause uterine prolapse [uterus falling out], when trains were new. The concern was that the vibrations from travelling so fast would break the fibers connecting the uterus to the abdominal wall. Unsurprisingly, this did not stop women from riding in trains. Because fuck that noise- trains!!!
One time in the 1840s a bunch of doctors shellacked live horses and rabbits and concluded, when the animals died (probably from heat exhaustion after being unable to sweat), that they had suffocated and that mammals breathed partially through our skin.
Some beauty manuals of the era may have created accidental sunscreen. Occasionally you see advice to wear cold cream on your face when going out, to prevent sunburn. This probably mostly didn't work- but some cold cream recipes contained zinc oxide for a "white foundation" effect, due to beauty standards favoring very light skin, which may have created a low-level SPF. Other manuals also advocate sealing the cold cream in with powder...which even more frequently involved zinc oxide.
A dentist may have gotten away with a malpractice death by blaming tightlacing. A 23-year-old maid named Annie Budden, of Preston, England, went to have a tooth pulled in January of 1895 and suffocated after the procedure, during which she had been dosed with nitrous oxide. The dentist said she was tightlaced and therefore the coroner ruled that he was not at fault- however said dentist claimed that her natural waist was 23" and her corset measured 18". Presumably that's the closed measurement, and corsets were commonly worn with at least a 2" lacing gap at the time (one corset ad I've seen mentions that women liked to give the theoretical closed measurement of their corset as their waist measurement, to make it sound smaller, while actually wearing it with the customary gap). Ergo, she was only laced down about 2-3 inches, a difference unlikely to cause asphyxiation. The fact that she worked as a maid similarly calls the assessment into question- how could she have successfully done physical labor while laced down in a way that diminished her lung capacity so much? Her employer vouched for her good character and excessive tightlacing was seen as vanity- and would have been noticed by making Miss Budden look out-of-proportion physically. That doesn't add up either, to me. The dentist went on to become mayor of the town where this all happened.
That thing above started as a fun fact about the only credible death due to tightlacing and then I looked into it more and now I'm just mad.
Justice For Annie Budden
Sorry this has gotten off-track but I'm still mad about the whole Annie Budden thing
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right4you · 14 days ago
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Only one
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Summary: you meet Joel every Friday night. Same room, same routine, same agreement. Date no one else.
Word count 5k. Warnings: smut.
Friday night, your favorite day of the week.
A wide grin is splayed across your face as you rush home from work. Parking however when you make it. Wasting no time when you step inside heading straight to the shower to get ready. Luckily you’re home alone and can pamper yourself without your parents asking where you’re going. Excitement bubbles in your lower belly picking out the sluttiest lingerie for Joel Miller.
When ready you head to the hotel going over the speed limit rushing to arrive earlier than what the map calculated. The valet boys notice your car and rush over to attend. You slip out of the vehicle tugging on your coat belt keeping it secured. “Good evening” they greet taking your keys and ushering you inside.
The staff inside wish you a good night welcoming you for your once-a-week stay. You only smile at them, speed walking to the elevator.
They never give you any weird looks as to why you meet an older man every Friday night. Joel Miller curated a story that you two are a couple who meet at this place when your work schedules overlap. They also know not to question a man with money.
A man who owns his own construction company. Also, he is your dad’s boss.
The throb between your legs only intensifies when you press the 13th button. Now only a minute away from seeing him. A fit of giggles slips out from excitement looking at the numbers increase.
A tiny ding indicates you have reached your level. You slip out once the doors separate. Anticipation runs through your veins as you stride down the hall never dropping your smile. His cologne lingers in the air and you inhale deeply savoring his scent. You take out the key card as you reach the door.
It’s always the same room #1111.
He waits by the entrance waiting for the sound of the door to unlock. Not a second later his hands are on your body as you enter. “Hi” he smiles leaning in for a kiss.
“Hi” you reply sweetly wrapping your arms behind his head, giving him a light squeeze.
“I missed you”
“Same” you giggle as he presses you into the wall undoing the tight belt of your coat.
“Cold outside huh” he says as his hands unbutton the brown plastic buttons of the khaki coat folding the slides away from your body. He pulls away giving you a long look. His dark brown eyes travel from head to toe. A low whistle blows through his lips hands coming up to touch the white lace lingerie set. “You always wear the cutest sets baby” he whispered leaning in to capture your lips pulling the coat off your body falling at your feet.
“Take me to bed cowboy” You hike your right leg over his hip and he responds by picking up both legs and wrapping them around his torso. Your heels clack from behind him as they meet at the ankle, one over the other.
“Yes ma’am” he obeys walking you over to the huge California king bed that had rose petals thrown over it like confetti, celebrating your affair.
You giggle as he throws you down gently. You land flat on your back palming the sheets and tugging at it slightly. You rise your knees separating them ever so slightly. “Come here” you seductively whisper. He quickly crawls over taking a moment to admire you. He slots between your thighs. You watch him with hooded eyes studying the way his eyes appear full of lust and a shade darker than usual.
“You like?” Whispering swaying your body underneath him as he scans the lace perfectly fitting your body.
“Y’know, I don’t care what you wear. I want what’s underneath this delicate lace” he said in a low tone tearing the thin fabric over your cunt. A sharp exhale releases from your lips as his fingers meet your folds gliding a finger up and down, feeling your wetness. “Always so wet for me, so perfect” he murmurs capturing your lips, muffling your whiny moans.
Your hands come up from your sides cupping his jaw, pulling him closer to you. Parting your lips allowing him more access as his tongue invades your mouth tasting you. You meet his tongue with yours pushing back into each other mouths.
He briefly pulled back “You’re my only one. You know that right,” he said lowly kissing down your jaw. His tongue licks your sensitive skin just behind your ear. You squirm planting your hands on his back feeling his back muscles ripple against his shirt.
Fuck why didn’t he take it off?
“Yes,” you respond leaning your head back towards the cushions allowing him more access to your neck. The feeling of his lips disappears suddenly. You lick your lips confused as to why he stopped.
“Repeat it” his tone is stern. Thick-calloused hand comes up to the back of your head lightly tugging your hair at the base of your scalp. “Look at me when you say it” he demands.
Meeting dark brown irises, eyelashes fluttering, and with a devious smile you repeat “I’m yours, the only one.”
“That’s right” he leans back down to kiss your swollen lips. His left hand trails down your skin awaking goosebumps in its way. He starts at your shoulder, down your chest, stomach, and hips. He stops at your clit rubbing small circles. He elicits more moans pressing harder building up the pleasurable tension.
“Mmm,” you groan, gripping onto his forearm feeling the bicep muscle flex as he continues to touch you. “Oh Joel” you moan into his mouth.
“Keep making those sweet sounds baby” he encourages you. His fingers continue to make smooth tight circles on your clit. Your body twitches each time he hits the right spot and you coo when he finds a steady rhythm. Your body reacts arching your back into him and moving your hips rutting against his palm.
“Fuck” you gasp feeling yourself close. “Fuck” he swirls harder. His lips connect with yours kissing you passionately, only making it better. “I need you, please” you beg to him in a rasp.
“Wait baby” he drags his finger up and down your cunt and you gasp. Your body withers when he plunges two thick fingers into your cunt.
“Mm,” you desperately whine pouting your lower lip. Raising your hips to meet his thrusts chasing the friction of Joel’s digits pumping hard in and out of you.
“I need you to come first, can you do that for me” he whispers not stopping.
You nod eagerly already feeling the first wave of please overcome you. Your brows knit together as you focus chasing the high. A loud moan slips past your lips not caring who can hear you. “Don’t stop” you yelp wrapping your left hand around his wrist that still held your hair.
Your right-hand rubs up and down his left arm. He flexes combining his thrusts with the tapping of his thumb on your clit. You finally feel your orgasm approach. An intense wave of pleasure hits you “‘m so close!” Then another, then another and finally you come the feeling of hot intense pleasure explodes from within leaking out of you into his hand.
“Yes just like that” he breathes watching you undo yourself. “Did so good” he praised gliding his right hand out of your cunt. Down the skin of your thigh. Then landing flat against the bed, beside your head. His other hand lets go of the base of your head and gently cups your cheek for a tender kiss on the lips.
He lays down beside you pulling your body close to his. “How was your day?” He whispers into your hair inhaling the sweet smell of your shampoo.
“Good, busy but good” you respond breathlessly.
“Yours?” You ask laying completely still but he continues to lightly touch your skin with his pointer finger tracing small circles on your stomach.
“Alright, better now” he chuckles lowly and you respond with a smile closing your eyes.
After a few minutes, your breathing finally regulates into a normal rhythm not feeling fucked out anymore. The throb pulses back, heating your lower abdomen with desire. You want more, you need more and he reads it in your face. He bites his lower lip already undoing his belt. “I still need you” you whine helping him out of his shirt. Leaning onto your side you prompt yourself up by your elbow. Undoing the white button up exposing his smooth tan skin.
“Take 'em off” he breathes leaning himself completely down on his back allowing you to undress him. You rise to sit on your knees tugging the belt out of its loops and dropping it on the floor. A smack is heard as it lands and you both chuckle. He lazily lifts his hands to undo the button and you tug at the legs slipping him out of his trousers.
The sight of his thick hairy lips causes you to salivate, craving him in your mouth. “Another time, need to be in you” he responds reading your thoughts. You pull him out of his boxers and you quickly move yourself over his body. Positioning yourself. His hand reaches down his body to widen the rip of your lace over your cunt. He holds the base of his cock as he swipes the tip over your folds a few times.
You both groan at the feeling of him pushing himself in. You hold onto his shoulders bracing yourself. He sighs feeling you stretch around his girth. “You good baby?” He rasps and all you can do is nod biting your lower lip.
After a few seconds, you begin to rise then sink back down his length. “Fuck” you both groan doing it again and again. He grins watching you move slowly on him. His hands hold onto your hips tightly already feeling bruises form as he helps you move up and down his cock. It’s soft and slow at first just savoring the feeling.
A breathy moan escapes you feeling his tip hit your g-spot. Your movements pick up a pace squeezing around his length earning deep moans from him. You smile arching your back head tossed back. “You look so good baby, riding my cock”
You look down at him finding him staring wickedly up at you with an intense look in his eyes. “Fuck” you whisper closing your eyes sinking down his length tugging his soft curls. Your chest is right over his mouth and he takes the opportunity to nip at your skin catching your sensitive bud in his mouth and lightly sucking on your nipple. His hands are everywhere touching and teasing you.
You keep grinding on him not stopping even if his licking and touching you becomes too much. Your breathing becomes heavy and sweat beads on your skin. Hair sticking to your forehead and shoulders. “You always take me so well baby, the only one who knows how to ride me. Fuck. Don’t stop” he groans deeply within his chest feeling the vibration on your body.
“Mmm, Only one” you slur.
Your eyebrows swaddle feeling your peak approach and the twitching of his cock in you tells you he’s close too. With this, you rise back up holding onto his chest and balancing yourself as you ride him to the end. “You’re close baby?” He asks and you quickly nod whining when he fucks into you harder. Your bodies slap against each other and you cry holding onto him.
“Fuck right there” he feels your walls clamp around him digging into his flesh as your orgasm begins washing over your body and he is close. His hips falter losing control as his orgasm overcomes him. You both undo at the same time lazily riding out each other's high before stopping. Bodies still then you collapse next to him exhaling a deep breath.
“That was…” he starts breathlessly.
“…so good” you finish his sentence laying completely still.
Wednesday evening, you sat at the dining table as your mother served dinner going over weekend plans with your dad. Friday is only two days away and you can’t wait for it to come. You press your thighs together at the thought with a small smile on your face as you bring the pasta to your mouth.
Ears perk up at the sound of Joel’s name from your father's lips “he invited us to dinner this Saturday” he motions to your mom and himself and you look away uninterested. “We completed that huge order I was fussing about. Said I really showed my recruitment skills. I hired 5 guys, they seem promising” he smiles to himself proudly.
“That’s good! Are we still going out of town next month?” She asks him and he shakes his head no. A smile of relief comes to her face but you mentally frown not having one week to yourself.
Once a month they leave to check in on one of Dad’s work sites. He’s a lead manager in Joel’s company so he gets his own site up in Dallas. They just got back from their trip last night. “Finished some accounting for this month’s payroll and Gustavo assured me he has it covered so I don’t see why I should go up there.”
Your mom takes a seat next to you patting your shoulder with a warm smile. You look over at her nodding and smiling back. “Did you have a good weekend?” She asks you.
“Yeah stayed in Friday” you lied looking down at the plate of food “but I went out on Saturday with Kels. Spent the night and then did some errands Sunday. Her mom says hi by the way.” Informing your parents of your ‘weekend’. Kelsey is your best friend who always covers you on Friday nights. When they’re here you use her as if y’all are going out and spending the night but when they’re gone you ‘stay in’ enjoying some quiet time.
Luckily they believe you, they know better not to question their sweet daughter. You grew up an only child and never misbehaved. Had a bit of a phase in middle school but grew out of it in high school. Because your dad threatened to pull you out and work full-time at the construction company.
Fuck that, Joel rarely shows up doing most of his work from home. He only goes if it’s a huge paying project, has a meeting or something gets messed up. Which is rare with his team. Your dad talks highly of him. He’s an exceptional businessman having the best staff to keep his business stable.
“Do you think he’s going to invite that, man what’s her name” your mom speaks up. Immediately you look up from your food creasing your brows together as she tries to remember her name. She presses a fist to her mouth closing her eyes to help her remember.
Who the fuck is she talking about?
After a few long seconds, you desperately wait for her to remember. “oh Claudia!” She snaps her fingers. “The women he’s been seeing?”
Claudia? The woman he’s been seeing! You internally yell. Irritation builds within your chest, eyes slightly twitching. How could he lie to you? You feel a scowl express on your face and you clear your throat forcing yourself to act normal.
“He didn’t say he is” your dad replies and they both nod enjoying their dinner, oblivious to your trembling anger.
We agreed not to date. Who the fuck does he think is breaking our number one rule. I should have known. A man like him isn’t only keeping one girl.
He’s probably actually taking her seriously. You in-vision her. A pretty woman, likely close to his age, takes her out on dates, buys her nice things, fucking her every day but not Friday. He’s probably promised her a future together and god you wish you were her.
How long has he been seeing her?
Fuck, has she been there all this time?
“I’m full” You abruptly get up ignoring the confused glances from your parents.
Heading back to your room locking the door behind you. Picking up your phone from the desk, looking down at his notifications. With a roll of your eyes, you walk into the closet shutting the door.
You sit on the carpeted floor legs crisscrossed under you. Biting down on your lip contemplating if you actually want to pick a fight on a Wednesday night.
Screw it.
Curiosity burns all over you. You have to find out who is Claudia and if it’s serious. You have the right to know. What a fool you would look if he strung you along. Believing all of his empty promises. One being; the two of ending up together, no longer hiding y’all’s affair. With a sigh, you press on the contact bringing it up to your ear. The coldness of your phone sends a chill down your hot body. You impatiently listen to the dialing tone as it cuts off “Hey” he chirps.
“Who the fuck is Claudia.” you seethe immediately diving into it.
“What?”
“You fucking heard me, who is she?” You spat.
“No one, what are you talking about?”
“Joel, I know you’re seeing someone. Don���t lie to me”
“I’m not lying to you.” His voice doesn’t falter, he’s good at keeping his cool.
“Yes, you are!” You argue.
“I’m not, can we not do this over the phone? I’m trying to finish some work” You can hear the exhaustion in his voice but you don’t care.
“Work” you laugh even though nothing is funny. “Are you with her right now?”
“I’m with no one.”
“Joel. I’m coming over”
“No, you’re not. Listen, baby, I have a lot of work to do and I have to finish today. Can this wait till Friday?” He’s stern but you don’t care.
“No” you end the call. Rising off the floor flicking on the light looking for your shoes. You slip on some Birkenstocks and a light sweater. Texting Kels to cover for you. She hearts your message confirming.
As you walk past your parents you exclaim “Girlfriend emergency! I’m going to kels love you!” You storm out of the house and you hear them reply back with an okay before slamming the door shut.
You shortly arrive at his place slotting in the key he gave you a few months ago. You can’t help but wonder if she has a key. God, what will do if she is here? Wondering around his house busying herself while he works away in his office. Not caring enough. You burst into a quiet dark home.
His truck is out front so he’s obviously here.
The large living room is shut off no sign of anyone lounging around. You step in further passing the kitchen expecting him to be waiting for you near the entrance but it’s dead silent.
You continue down the vast hallway leading to his office. You pass his room the doors open but the lights are out. There’s a yellow glowing strip underneath the office door and you twist it open. His head peaks above the monitors slipping his glasses off his face.
He is here.
A breath of relief blows past your lips.
“Jesus Christ” he mutters standing up from his chair with hands at his hips “I told you to wait till Friday”
“And I told you no. Who is Claudia?” Your arms cross over your chest arching a brow at him. “Are you seeing someone else, Joel?” You question.
“No, who told you I was?” His brows crease together walking away from his desk standing in front of it.
“It was brought up at dinner. You’re going out with my parents on Saturday and my mom asked my dad if you’re bringing a date.”
He scoffs shaking his head “I’m not bringing anyone.”
“Then why did my mom say her name!”
“Claudia” you cringe at the sound of her name coming from his lips “She is just a friend,” he said calmly only making you angrier.
“Bullshit” you seethe through your teeth “You’re lying to me!”
“Baby I’m not lying to you.” He shook his head walking towards you but you step back. “You can’t seriously believe I’m dating other women. I know the rules I wouldn’t break em” his head leans towards his shoulder pressing his lips together watching you pace.
“Then why did my mom bring her up? She isn’t the type to make up things” you remark.
“I’m not calling your parents liars by any means. I can explain. Quit pacing.” You halt. Arms crossing over your chest. “Claudia was introduced to us on a work trip. She’s a partner for a business, they have this big project coming up and we’re trying to seal a deal. She and I are in communication. Since we’re always talking to each other. I may have mentioned that we’re growing close. In no way am I dating her” he explains. “They probably just got the wrong idea” he suggests.
“Please, I know how men like you are.” You roll your eyes at his lame excuse turning away from him and walking over to the large window.
He scoffed “Men like me?” He spat causing you to turn back and look at him.
“Yes! You’re all similar. I’ve heard this shit before.”
“Meaning?” His eyes slightly squint, shoulders squaring appearing larger.
“I’m not new to this Joel.” You completely turn your body his way fixing your posture mirroring his. “Why are you even creating a personal relationship with her? Shouldn’t it be professional?”
“It is!”
“You literally just said you are growing close.” You state “I don’t create close bonds with any of my potential clients so why should you? Gosh you said you were different” You turn away from him again facing the window again. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes feeling overwhelmed with anger.
“Baby please get that; I would never do that to you” his voice is soft and he sounds closer. Your head slightly turns to the side confirming he’s is only a step away from you.
“you told me I was the only one! That you’d never let me go.” You twist to face him again. His eyebrows raise with concern seeing your glossy eyes “You said you would wait for me! How could you turn your back on me? Obviously, it’s more if my parents think you’re dating her!” You push on his chest but he barely moves.
“But it’s not. I still stand on waiting for you” he replies. “It’s only you, nobody else. Please understand that” he keeps his tone calm stepping forward into your space his hands coming up to hold you. “If I could bring you as my date I would.”
Your eyes meet his. His gaze softens slightly nodding his head mentally repeating ‘you’re okay. Believe me, hoping you get the message. Eyes dart between his, the sadden expression on yours melts away. He tugs on you meeting his hard chest. Feeling a bit defeated, you melt into him. His warmth soothes you. One of his hands rubs small circles on your back helping you relax. You think about his calm demeanor. Not once did he raise his voice, lose his temper, or make you feel crazy. But he must think that you are. I mean can you blame him? Storming into his house swearing up and down he’s seeing another woman behind your back. Acting like you lost your head.
“Do you understand that?” He asks again.
You lazily nod your head with a sigh. Hugging him back resting your head on his chest.
The two stood together for a moment in silence. Kiss him, you think. Chewing the inside of your cheek, contemplating the idea, or just stay in his arms for a while.
His phone goes off and you both look over at his desk. Her name pops up on the screen almost like it is taunting you. You scoff pushing him off walking out of the office stomping towards the front door. He’s hot on your heels trying to grab you but you’re quick to dodge him.
“Don’t go” he pleads from behind you trying to grasp your elbow but you yank it away.
“No, fuck this I’m done. Why is she even calling you at this hour?” You exclaim picking up a pace.
“I was waiting on a response” he comments not helping the situation.
“And she can’t email you.” You scorn over your shoulder. You look ahead of you his door just an inch away. Pulling it open but before you can step out onto the porch, his arm wraps around your middle carrying you back inside and slamming it shut.
“Joel!” You yelp fiercely trying to wiggle out of his gasp but he doesn’t loosen his grip not even when you scratch his skin. “Let me go!”
“You are not leaving. Not when I taught you things that your momma will never know” he carries you down the hall, pressing his cheek to your head lips close to your ear and you shudder. He notices “Who will make you cum the way I do?” He tries to husk his voice trying to divert your attention but it makes you realize something.
“I should have known better. I was just some young thing for you to fuck. You used me. Please just let me go” you desperately cry wanting to be anywhere but here.
“No, no that’s not true” he brings you back into his office kicking the door to close behind him “Are you going to stop acting like a brat and listen to me?” His voice booms from behind you feeling the vibration from his chest onto your back. He sets you down on the black leather couch in his office. “Look at me” he demands and you peel your eyes away from the floor looking up at him. “This isn’t about your age. I am not going behind your back seeing other women. This is strictly work-related. I understand why it may bother you but I would never do that to you. You’re my everything and I can’t wait for the day we can be together not just on Fridays. Just for your benefit, I will have Tommy handle it. Deal?” He declares in one single breath looking hotter than ever.
Good to know his promise still stands.
But you still roll your eyes. Just to annoy him a little bit.
“None of that. Words” he demands.
“Sure whatever,” you say looking away again hiding your face with your hair as a smile forms on your lips you look back at the floor. Feeling better knowing he will cut communication with her and make Tommy, his brother, also co-owner of the company, handle it.
His phone buzzes again and you groan something within you knows it’s her. “she’s just a friend?” you look back up at him and he tiredly nods his head yes closing his eyes. Silently praying you don’t cause another fight.
And you’re not.
The idea rolls around in your head. Quickly deciding to go for it. You flip your hair back leaning into the cushions smirking up at him. He quirks a brow intrigued by what you’re going to do next. “Answer it while you fuck me” You couldn’t deny it anymore all this fighting turned you on.
His face switches from annoyed to desire “Naughty girl” he said lowly smiling down at you happy with your response. Not a second later you both fumble out of your clothes. You lay on the couch and you giggle together as his bare body slides in between your bare legs.
“Don’t forget your phone!” You squeal pointing back at his desk. He smacks his lips together getting up to grab it. It’s not ringing anymore but she sure does call again.
You lick your lips watching him position himself “Was your dick hard this whole time?” You ask breathlessly looking down at his hard leaking member. He nods his head slipping inside you quickly pumping in and out not giving you time to adjust. “Christ you’re wet” he mumbles bringing his phone to you. “You answer it,” he says handing you the phone.
“Ah!” You inhale when he hits the soft spongy spot in your cunt. Back arching off the couch as he continues to hit the sweet spot. “Fuck right there” you exhale. Trying to focus on answering the call. Your finger glides across the bottom of the screen placing it at the edge of the couch.
“Joel” you moan his name thrusting your hips trying to match his fast pace. The sounds of y’alls skin slapping against one another mixing with the loud moans, fucking each other rough and fast. You hum with approval, music to your ears. This sex feels angry and frustrating but oh so good. You lift the top half of your body from the couch, propping the back of your elbows on the cushions and balancing your weight on them.
She’s still on the phone.
You smile proudly closing your eyes when his thumb comes in contact with your clit rubbing fast messy circles “fuck” you moan feeling the coil in your lower belly twist tighter wanting to break free. “Just like that, faster” you cry body twitching under him.
He groans biting his lower lip and pumping in you faster and harder. “‘m so fucking close” he rasps picking up your thigh, resting it higher against his side.
Your head tosses back onto the couch “Me too” you slur licking your lips. Your hands grasp the couch's edges for leverage as his thrusts become messy and you can feel his dick twitch inside you. Your walls tighten around him signaling that you’re close. Hot flashes of pleasure snap all over your lower body collapsing on your back. “Oh my god!” You gasp feeling your orgasm wash over you and you moan cumming all over his cock. He pumps your juices back into your cunt still pulsing around him.
“Keep doing that” he whispers. The walls of your pussy continue to contract around his thick cock “Oh!” he yells “I can’t-“ he quickly pulls out his hot cum spilling all over your lower belly and you watch in awe as it paints your sweaty skin mixing together.
He’s breathing hard hand coming up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. Joel leans back on the opposite of the couch trying to catch his breath “She hung up” he murmurs in between breaths followed by a small chuckle.
“I hope she got the clue.” You respond tiredly with a smirk.
662 notes · View notes
rioromanoffroses · 6 months ago
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Ovulation
G!P Natasha Romanoff x Fem Reader
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Warnings: 18+ content, masturbating, oral sex (R and Natasha receiving), finger sucking, dry humping, fingering, unprotected sex (P in V), overstimulation
Summary: You're ovulating while on a mission, causing you to be uncomfortably aroused. Luckily, the agent with you is more than eager to help you out...
WC: 4.1k
The motel was just like any other – grey, dusty and lit only by dim off-white. You would only be here for a night and when you pressed your hand against the cold metal of the radiator, you were glad. You debated whether or not you ask the receptionist about it but keeping your head low was key when travelling on an undercover mission. The more questions you asked and the more times your face was seen and captured by CCTV, the greater the risks. You decided against it.
You inspected the bedroom, following safety procedures which included searching for signs of any electronic devices but luckily, there were none. The bed was a small double with beige, striped sheets that were thinner than you would’ve liked. The back wall was taken up entirely by a sturdy, wooden cupboard that matched the tawny-brown, bedside tables covered in dust. You switched on the lamp and ran your hand over the mattress, noting that you would need to wear thick layers of clothing to bed. You assumed the other bedroom was the same but didn’t bother checking. The other agent could do that.
You sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing your forehead with the palm of your hand. One of the things you hated most about being a woman and a spy was the problems it caused when it conflicted with your cycle. Missions on your period were uncomfortable, draining and painful. Ovulation week was also a mess; you had no way of dealing with the surge of hormones it triggered while on a mission. You made a mental note to take a cold shower after the other agent arrived. 
You read over the intel for the upcoming mission while you waited for them, straining your ears for the door. It was a complicated mission; you had to infiltrate the base of a growing terrorist organisation and hack into their systems to gather as much information about them as you could. S.H.I.E.L.D. knew scarily little about the organisation so you were going in almost blind – anything could happen. 
The plan was for two agents, including you, to blend in as one of the terrorists to get into the base. You were unaware of the identity of the agent you were paired with. You were curious to know if they were someone you’d worked with before or a complete stranger. You assumed the latter – you were still young and hadn’t been assigned to many difficult missions yet. You tightened your arms around yourself, shivering as the light outside the window was sucked from the sky, the moon blocked out by an array of dark, restless clouds. 
“You look cold.” You jumped and leapt on your feet, spinning around to see a woman standing behind you. Her face was painted with a smirk and she looked at you with her hands on her hips, her jade eyes travelling up and down your body. You swallowed. How did you not hear her come in? S.H.I.E.L.D. weren’t exaggerating when they said she was the very best they had at espionage. You didn’t realise you were staring at her until she brought you out of your thoughts, “Cat got your tongue?”
“Uh, sorry,” you said, clearing your throat, “Yeah, I am. East Europe is always freezing at this time of year.” You could feel sweat trickling down your neck. Not only were you ovulating on a mission but you were stuck with an extremely attractive woman during it. You were so fucked. 
“Mm, it is,” she said, stepping towards you and offering out her hand. You noticed the electrified branches of azure and emerald running down her arms up to her fingers, pushing up against the skin, your heart thundering against your ribcage. You quickly pulled yourself out of your trance. You were a spy for goodness sake, not the nervous wreck or helpless whore your elevated levels of estrogen were making you feel like. You shook her hand.
“It’s nice to meet you,” you said, “I’m Agent Y/l/n.” You pulled your hand away from hers before she could pick up on your clammy palms but unbeknownst to you, she’d already felt them. 
“I know,” she said, “I’m Agent Romanoff but to you, it’s Natasha.” You could feel your breath hitch in your throat. Natasha. You could already imagine how those three, pretty syllables would feel falling off your tongue. 
You dismissed your dirty thoughts immediately, feeling ashamed of yourself. She was a stranger and your teammate; you seriously needed to pull yourself together. She nodded to the file in your hand, “I see you’re already prepared for the mission.”
“I was just double-checking all the details,” you said. The tight, black shirt and jeans she was wearing hugged her in all the right places, her sculpted arms in full view to you. She must take her training seriously, you thought, I wonder how often she goes to the gym.
“Good,” she said, dropping her bag on the floor, “I already know I’ll enjoy working with you.” You placed your hands behind your back so she couldn’t see your fidgeting fingers. Your gaze fell onto the bag and you frowned.
“Oh, were you planning on sleeping in here?” You said, “I’ll move to the other room then.” She held her arm in front of you as you stepped towards the door. 
“There isn’t another room.” You felt your heart drop. You realised the other door must be to the bathroom. You couldn’t imagine how your situation could get any worse, “Are you unhappy with that arrangement?”
“No, not at all,” you lied, “I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.” You swallowed, hard. You started moving towards the door, “I’m going to take a shower,” you mumbled, not waiting for her answer. You fumbled with the handle, cursing under your breath and slammed the door shut behind you. 
You didn’t waste any time taking off your clothes and turning on the shower, sighing as the cold droplets collided with your burning skin. The water only offered you a few moments of relief, however. The more you thought about the redhead and how close you’d be together that night, the more you fed the raging arousal between your legs. It became clear that there was only one way you were going to calm yourself down.
You covered your hand with your mouth as you touched yourself, your mind overwhelmed by images of Natasha. It didn’t take long for you to reach your climax and you were certain that the sound of the shower and your hand had muffled out all your moans. You cleaned yourself before stepping out, drying yourself with a towel and getting dressed, praying that your body would be satisfied for the night. When you returned to the bedroom, Natasha was on the bed facing you, resting a pillow on her lap.
“You’re even prettier in real life than you are in your pictures,” she said, the unexpected compliment drowning you in butterflies. You noticed that her cheeks were flushed a bright red and her breaths seemed more laboured than before. 
“Really?” you said in disbelief. You had never seen yourself as unattractive but you didn’t think you were anything special either. You were nothing compared to the Goddess in front of you, that was for sure. She chuckled.
“You’re a humble one,” she mused, “How cute.” You couldn’t quite believe her words. Natasha thought you, of all people, were humble? You searched the room, looking for any kind of escape from the conversation and spotted a clock hung above the bed.
“It’s getting late,” you said, trying to hide your stutter, “I’ll sleep on the floor.” You knew it would be uncomfortable but anything was better than being next to Natasha. You’d slept in awkward places before so you’d just have to deal with it.
“No you won’t,” she said, shuffling to the other side of the bed and lifting the sheets, “There’s room for both of us, see?” The amount of room wasn’t the problem – it was the proxemics between you and the internal chaos your body was experiencing. How were you supposed to explain that to Natasha though? You noticed the moment your eyes fell on her that her autonomy wasn’t the same as yours so she wouldn’t understand your dilemma.
“Uh, okay,” you said, knowing you had no choice. You never sounded nervous or vulnerable, not even with your close family and friends. If embarrassment was a type of poison, you’d have collapsed in agony by now. You climbed into bed beside Natasha, turning your back to her. You were reminded of how small the bed was when you shifted slightly and felt her hand brush against the small of your back. You took a deep breath. You were in for a long night. 
She switched off the bedside lamp and to your horror, you could hear her unbutton her jeans and discard them on the floor. It was almost as if she was doing it on purpose. You tensed your muscles, forcing yourself to stay as still as humanely possible so there was less chance of you accidentally making contact with each other again.
“That’s better,” she mumbled and you felt her leg against yours as she adjusted her position to make herself more comfortable. You didn’t know how long it took for you to fall asleep with her body so close to yours, her breath creating goosebumps along every part of your skin that it hit. Unfortunately, you found out the hard way that your head was the worst place to escape to you in your current state. 
You woke up, gasping and blinded by the darkness around you. You pushed yourself up, feeling the slick on your thighs from the filthy dream you had just experienced. Natasha’s head had been buried between your thighs and you had been an absolute mess beneath her. You could honestly die from humiliation – how could your mind conjure up something so vile while you were sleeping next to her? As you were about to move off the bed and sprint into the bathroom, a light was switched on and you felt a hand tighten around your wrist. 
“Where do you think you’re going?” Natasha said, a dark rasp accompanying her words, “You are not going into the bathroom to fuck yourself again.” Your eyes widened and you felt a tide of heat rush to your cheeks. She’d heard you. 
“I’m so sorry,” you said, “I shouldn’t have, it was really inappropriate of me…” She silenced you by straddling your hips, trapping you beneath her on the bed. Before you could react, you were distracted by the feeling of something hard against your stomach. You looked down to see Natasha in only her boxers, the bulge pressing against your abdomen straining in its confines. Your jaw dropped. It had never even occurred to you that there was a chance she’d want you too.
“I was going to let you make the first move,” she said, “But you took too long.” From how the other agents described you, she had been so sure your boldness and confidence would’ve caused you to spring onto her immediately. She was annoyed that she’d had to listen to you pleasure yourself in the shower without her but at the same time, Natasha loved that her presence had changed your demeanour so much. 
You gulped and looked up into her eyes, seeing that her iris had shrunk into a thin line around her blown pupils. You drunk in the sight of her on top of you, placing your hands on top of her bare, supple thighs, her skin like velvet beneath you. 
“Fuck,” you breathed. She tilted up your chin, running her thumb over your bottom lip, wanting a better view of you.
“Tsk tsk. Such a dirty mouth.” You knew you shouldn’t be letting her walk all over you but you were enjoying it more than you wanted to admit. She lifted herself off your body so she could move her other hand to the waistband of your trousers. She hooked a finger underneath the material, “Can I?” You nodded and she dug her nails into your chin, “I want to hear you say it.” You weren’t used to this power dynamic – you were always the more dominant one. 
“Yes,” you said, “You can. Please.” She grinned at your obedience and slipped her hand into your pants, feeling you drip onto her fingertips. She groaned.
“Oh God, you’re so wet already,” she said, “I could stuff you with my cock right now if I wanted to.” She removed her hand from your underwear and brought it to your mouth, pushing her fingers past your lips. You sucked her digits hungrily, tasting yourself on your tongue. The sight only drove Natasha even crazier but she also felt a pang of envy, wishing it was her cock in your mouth instead. You felt so good around her fingers.
After pulling her digits out of your mouth, she lowered herself onto your body and she didn’t hesitate to connect her lips with yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. Her lips moulded against yours perfectly and you moved in sync with her, your kisses becoming more and more desperate. She could taste your sweetness as she kissed you and she forced herself to forget about breathing, not wanting to pull away for even a second. Her hands cupped your face and you reached up to tangle yours in her hair, her lips staining yours with garnet lust. 
You pulled her even closer against your chest, your mind a buzz of her and her only. You let her tongue slide between your teeth when you felt it press against your bottom lip, making no effort to fight against it with your own. She swallowed your whines, her crotch grinding against your thigh. You had never hooked up with anyone before; you weren’t that kind of person. But you were willing to break all your rules for Natasha and give every part of you to her without hesitation. 
Her mouth moved to your jawline, littering your face with kisses, her hands trailing down your arms. You shivered under her feather-light touch, gasping as her teeth sunk into your neck, intending to leave a bruise that everyone else would see. She tugged at the hem of your shirt.
“Take it off,” she said. She leaned back to give you space to pull it over your head and unhook your bra before she pounced on you like an animal. She traced her fingers over your collarbones before venturing further down to your chest, her fingers circling your nipples. You arched into her touch as she caressed your breasts, her movements sending a spark straight to your core. You reached down to cup her bulge, noticing the wet patch on her boxers but she slapped your hand away, “No touching,” she snapped. 
“Please, Natasha,” you said, “I need you; it hurts.” She tutted.
“Patience,” she husked. She pulled away from you and started taking off her clothes, freeing her aching breasts before pushing down her boxers. Her erection sprang out from the material, the tip inflamed and ringed by an enraged red, pre-cum dribbling onto the sheets beneath her. 
She led back onto the pillow, giving you a full view of her body and you took a moment to admire her. Everything about her was a masterpiece – her facial features, her muscles, her curves. Her crimson hair was a mess around her shoulders and the front pieces had fallen forward, framing her face, “I want to fuck that pretty mouth of yours.” You shook your head.
“No, Natasha,” you pleaded, “It’ll feel so much better in my pussy, I promise…” You fell silent as her eyes burnt into you. You reluctantly crawled over to her on all fours, hesitating before wrapping your mouth around the tip. You tried to irk her, moving as slow as possible but she grabbed a hold of your head and started pushing you down on her cock. 
“Suck.” You gagged around her length as she started bucking her hips upwards so she was fucking your mouth but the sound only drove her more. It didn’t take long for you to start moving your head up and down her cock without any guidance, guttural moans escaping Natasha’s mouth from the warmth and skill of your tongue, “Fuck, that shut you up.”
Tears spilt down your cheeks as she hit the back of your throat over and over again, the vibrations of your whines sending even more waves of pleasure through her body. She lifted her legs onto your shoulders so you could grab onto her thighs, spurring you on even more, “I’m so close,” she breathed. Her thrusts were messy and out of rhythm by the time she came undone, spilling her cum into your mouth. You made sure to swallow it all. 
She pulled her cock out of your mouth, a mixture of cum and drool coating her length, some of it dribbling down your chin, “You did so well. Such a good slut for me.” She took a moment to catch her breath, watching with eagerness as you pulled down your trousers and your panties that were positively ruined, throwing them on the floor. There were tears of white running down your legs and your clit was visibly swollen. She smirked wickedly, “You want me that bad, huh?”
“Please, I’ve been a good girl,” you whined. You tried to reach for her again but she caught hold of your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. 
“Lie down.” You went to lay on your back but she grabbed your shoulders, her nails indenting crescent-moons into your skin before pushing you down onto your stomach. You gasped as her hand pressed against your cunt, her fingers running through your sensitive folds. Her movements were slow and deliberate, intending to increase your need but not give in to it.
“More,” you begged as her thumb massaged your clit. The smell of sex was heavy in the air and your senses were intoxicated by the vanilla and brown sugar fragrance of her perfume. She gave your clit a sharp pinch in response to your pleas, causing you to inhale a sharp intake of breath.
“You’re insatiable,” she said, “You’re begging to be fucked by a woman you just met. Like a whore.” You started rubbing your crotch against her hand, your motions erratic and frantic. 
“More, please,” you cried, your thoughts becoming incoherent as the need between your legs started to burn, “Please, Natasha.” She pushed two fingers inside of you, stretching out your entrance but making sure to avoid your g-spot. 
“Tell me what you want.” 
“I want you inside of me,” you groaned as she added a third digit to your cunt. Natasha started to play with her breasts using her free hand; she was burning for you just as badly as you were for and the sound of your begging only worsened her desire. It took all the strength in her body to hold herself back and not ruin you right there and then. She was so glad you couldn’t see her.
“I am inside of you.” You whined.
“I want your cock. I need it inside of me, please.” She grabbed hold of your hips, smirking. As much as she enjoyed seeing you so needy for her, her patience was wearing thin.
“Then you’ll take it all.” She suddenly rammed inside you without any warning, not being able to resist you for any longer and you cried out in shock. Your initial discomfort was drowned by explosive bliss as Natasha filled you to the brim, hitting places you didn’t even know existed. She was met with no resistance as she rutted into you despite her size which stretched you out deliciously. Your pussy was so much better than she could’ve ever imagined.
She flattened herself against your back, needing to feel more of you. She grunted against your ear as her hips slammed into your ass with each powerful stroke. You were dizzy with pleasure as her speed increased, your moans intensifying as she started to pound into your sweet spot. She was older and more experienced than anyone you had been with before which was evident in how she was making you feel. Your body was coursing with more pleasure than you thought was humanely possible. 
The knot in your stomach was tightening fast and the sounds of your wet cunt were echoing through the room, “Oh fuck, you’re so tight,” Natasha said, not caring about her dignity anymore, too lost in the sensation of your warmth clenching around her cock, “Tell me how you feel baby.” 
“I feel so, so good,” you said, “Please, don’t stop.” You looked back at her and she tilted her head so your lips could connect for a moment before her mouth moved to your shoulder. She sucked on the soft skin there, slowing down so she could sink deeper into your cunt. She could feel your legs trembling beneath her own as you pushed back in rhythm with each of her thrusts.
“How close are you?” Natasha didn’t want to admit it but she was already teetering on the edge, struggling to hold back from how well you were taking her. You could feel her movements become sloppy as more and more of your juices gushed from your entrance. 
“So close,” you said, your walls clenching even harder around her cock. It only took a few more thrusts before you could feel gasoline flood your bloodstream, ready to be set on fire, “Natasha, f-fuck…” You didn’t even have to say it.
“Let go for me,” she commanded. You let the knot in your stomach unravel, screaming her name as all the nerves in your body were electrified, sparks of searing light shooting across your vision. No drug could replicate the state of euphoria you were both lost in as your walls were drowned by white, your cunt milking her cock dry until there wasn’t a single drop left to give. You had never experienced an orgasm so strong, so prolonged, so incredible. You expected Natasha to stop after fucking you through your high but instead, she picked up her pace again. You whimpered.
“Natasha, that’s enough…” She pulled out of you and flipped you onto your back before slipping straight back inside of you. Your eyes widened. 
“What’s wrong?” she mocked, “You begged for my cock, slut. Isn’t this what you wanted?” She smirked when you didn’t give her an answer, already drowning in ecstasy again despite the building ache between your legs. You were losing your grip on reality as the new angle gave her access to more places inside of you and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you were overstimulated. 
She didn’t take her eyes off you, wanting to see your reaction to everything she gave you. You were growing more sensitive by the second and you could feel her cock throbbing against your walls each time you squeezed her, drops of perspiration gleaming on every inch of your skin. You reached up to cup Natasha’s breasts, the extra layer of stimulation pushing her towards yet another climax in record time. 
She started to rub your clit, hoping to speed up your release but it was becoming evident she’d have to release without you. You wrapped your legs around her waist, pulling her even closer and for a moment, she forgot your pleasure, getting too lost in her own. She tore her eyes away from you and threw her head back, panting like a dog. 
“Cum inside me,” you said and at the sound of your words, she didn’t hesitate, letting her orgasm crash into her body with full force. She moaned your name between gasps as she was hit by waves of bliss that slowly decreased in intensity as the milliseconds passed, pulsing through her entire body. She finally pulled out of you and collapsed on the bed. You both gasped for breath, your thighs and the sheets beneath you stained with lust. You were glad you hadn’t climaxed this time – you didn’t think you’d have survived it. 
“That was fucking incredible,” Natasha admitted, turning her head to face you. You nodded in agreement, too fucked out to form a sentence, your limbs still shaking from adrenaline.
That morning, Natasha woke you up with her cock between your legs, already hard and ready for another round. Her hands only left your body during the mission and three days later after its success, she didn’t hesitate to fuck you senseless until you passed out.
A/n - I have an idea for part two so let me know if that's something you'd like.
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drewharrisonwriter · 5 months ago
Text
Softer
Status: One Shot, Complete.
Pairings: No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader
Summary: Marriage has been good to Joel—he’s happier, softer, and maybe a little pudgier.
Word Count: 1,592 words
Warnings: Explicit sexual content (18+), dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex (hehe), mentions of weight gain, body appreciation, strong language
A/N: This fic was written for @beefrobeefcal’s Married Joel Sits on You Challenge! Am I too late for this challenge? 😅 Please forgive me for any mistakes, English is not my first language and it's my first time joining such a challenge, and I utterly enjoyed it. Thank you so much Beefro for this 💖
The prompt was: "Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline."
P.S. Do you enjoy my writing? If so, I’d truly appreciate any support through comments, likes, and reblogs! If you’re able, donations or writing commissions would also mean the world to me as I’m currently managing everything from my phone due to financial constraints. You can donate here or DM me your commission ideas. Thank you so much for your love and support! 💜
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Joel adjusted his sunglasses, glancing at his reflection in the mirrored elevator walls. It was late afternoon, and they’d just come back up from the beach to their hotel room. He scratched his beard, tugging his shirt down over his belly, feeling the fabric cling just a little too snugly.
Tommy’s teasing echoed in his mind. "You packin’ some extra cargo these days, big brother?" The little shit had poked his side earlier as they lounged by the beach, laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world.
"Asshole," Joel muttered under his breath.
You glanced up at him, curious. "What’s that, honey?"
Joel shook his head, giving you a half-smile. "Nothin’, sweetheart. Just thinkin'." He hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you close as the elevator doors slid open. You walked out together, your hand slipping down to his lower back as you strolled through the quiet hallway.
“Tommy’s words still botherin’ you?” you asked softly, your voice coming off with gentle teasing. You gave his belly a playful squeeze. “He’s full of shit, Joel. I love you like this. Tommy don’t know what he’s talkin’ about.”
Joel grunted in response, though a small smile tugged at his lips. He didn’t say anything as you continued walking, but you could feel the tension in his body slowly easing under your touch.
Once you reached your suite, Joel swiped the keycard, and you both rushed inside, quickly locking the door behind you. You double-checked the lock, raising an eyebrow at him. “You sure you locked it, Joel? You know how those girls are… Wouldn’t put it past Sarah or Ellie to barge in at the wrong moment.”
Joel let out a low chuckle, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you close. “I ain’t paid this much for a vacation just to get interrupted when I’m tryin’ to make another baby with my hot wife,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. “Trust me, darlin’. That door ain’t budging.”
A playful grin tugged at your lips as you teased, “Baby, aren’t you a little old for a newborn?”
Joel cut his eyes at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re real funny, you know that?” He dipped his head, brushing his lips against yours. “Doesn’t matter how old I am. If it were up to me, I’d keep you pregnant all the damn time.”
Your body flushed at his words, the heat between you flaring with the roughness in his tone. “Yeah?” you whispered, your voice thick with need. “You’d keep me pregnant, huh?”
Joel’s hands slid down to your ass, squeezing as he pulled you close. “Damn right. We could start right now if you want,” he growled, kissing the side of your neck. “Or maybe after a couple more vacations like this one.” His lips traveled lower, sucking a mark just beneath your ear.
Your breath caught as you smiled, running your fingers through his hair. “I don’t mind more vacations first,” you teased, your hands wandering down his back as the two of you continued to make out as you made your way toward the bed.
Joel’s large frame practically caged you in as he guided you down onto the plush mattress. You tugged at his shirt, pulling it off as he hovered over you, his body solid and warm. His fingers made quick work of your bikini top, tossing it aside.
As he leaned over you, your hand ghosted over his once-firm stomach. Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline.
“You look so good…” you hummed. 
Joel’s expression softened for a moment, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he kissed you. “You mean I’ve gone fat?” He grinned before leaning in, his lips grazing your ear.
You laughed, cupping his face. “I love it,” you assured him, pulling him in for another kiss, deeper this time.
As you kissed, Joel’s hand slid between your legs, fingers dipping into the wet heat between your thighs. “Goddamn, baby,” he groaned against your mouth, his fingers teasing your entrance before sliding two thick digits inside you, curling them just right.
Your body jerked at the sensation, and you whimpered softly, “Jesus, Joel!” It’s pretty good and scary at the same time that he knows exactly where and where to curl his fingers inside you to hit that soft spot that makes you see stars. 
His fingers worked inside you, while drawing slow circles on your clit with his thumb that had your hips bucking up toward him. “So needy,” he murmured, “But you’re gonna have to wait, sweetheart. Wanna take my time with you.”
You gasped, head falling back against the bed as he worked you over, his free hand holding your hip steady. The rough pad of his thumb brushed over your clit, and the pressure was just enough to send sparks flying through your body. “Fuck, Joel…”
Joel growled, his mouth closing over your breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple before sucking it into his mouth. You moaned at the sensation, your body arching into his touch as his fingers continued their slow, torturous rhythm inside you.
Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging hard as the pleasure built deep in your core. He kissed his way back up to your lips, his beard rough against your skin as he murmured, “You’re gonna cum for me, baby. But not yet.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and your body trembled beneath him as he finally pulled his fingers out, leaving you gasping for breath.
“I need you, Joel,” you whimpered, your voice trembling with need. “Please…”
Joel positioned himself between your legs, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. “You’re gonna take every inch of me, darlin’,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust. “Gonna bury myself so deep inside you, I’ll be the only thing you can feel.”
With one slow, deliberate thrust, Joel buried himself to the hilt, his cock stretching you wide as his blunt tip kissed your cervix. You gasped, your hands flying to his shoulders, clinging to him as he held himself still, giving you a moment to adjust.
“Fuck, baby,” Joel groaned, his forehead pressed against yours as he began to move, each slow thrust hitting deeper than the last. “You feel so good… so fuckin’ tight around me.”
Your nails dug into his shoulders as he picked up the pace, his cock dragging against every nerve inside you, setting your body on fire. “Joel…” you gasped, your voice breathless.
He leaned down, his lips closing over one of your nipples again, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak before sucking hard. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, and you moaned, your hips rolling up to meet each of his thrusts.
Joel groaned, his hand sliding between your bodies to rub slow circles on your clit. “Cum for me, baby,” he growled, his voice rough and commanding. “Wanna feel you cum all over my cock.”
Your body responded instantly, the tension snapping as your orgasm crashed over you. You cried out, your walls clenching tight around him, your vision going white as a wave of pleasure rippled through you.
Joel’s hips stuttered as you came, and with a deep groan, he buried himself to the hilt one last time, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his release. He collapsed on top of you, both of you panting and trembling from the intensity of it all.
After a few moments, Joel gently rolled off you, still catching his breath as he sat up on the edge of the bed. “Don’t move, darlin’,” he murmured, brushing a kiss to your forehead before disappearing into the bathroom. He returned moments later with a warm, damp towel, gently cleaning you up with tender strokes.
“C’mere,” Joel whispered, tossing the towel aside and pulling you into his arms. You curled up against his chest, his warmth and steady heartbeat lulling you into a blissful daze. He kissed the top of your head, his large hand rubbing slow circles on your back. 
“You okay, sweetheart?”You smiled sleepily, nuzzling into his chest and just humming your reply. 
Joel chuckled, brushing a hand through your hair. “Good thing we locked that door. Last thing I need is Sarah or Ellie walkin’ in while we’re busy.”
You snickered, burying your face into his chest with a soft laugh. “We’ve done a good job avoidin’ that so far.”
Joel sighed contentedly, running his hand along your back. “Yeah, but I swear, if they catch us one day, Tommy’s gonna have a field day. He’s already givin’ me shit about puttin’ on a little weight.”
You laughed harder, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him, your hand slowly sliding down to his soft belly. “This pudge’s the proof you’re enjoyin’ yourself, Joel.”
Joel chuckled, his chest rumbling as he pulled you closer. “Hell, maybe you’re right,” he admitted with a smirk. “Can’t say I’m complainin’, though.”
You smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I love you like this. Softer, but still strong.”
Joel squeezed you gently, his voice quieter. “Feels good, don’t it? Finally bein’ able to enjoy things.” 
You could only hum in response. You let sleep take you, safe in the warmth of his arms.
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