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hier--soir · 1 year ago

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a lover's pinch | five

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: you and your professor enjoy a day in new york. warnings/tags: au, university professor joel, age gap [20 something years diff], ethically dubious relationship due to inherent power imbalance, oral [m receiving], a smidge of cock worship, spoilers for antony and cleopatra by shakespeare lol, flirting, these fuckos kinda go on a date, prof joel is man of the arts idgaf, a tlou2 easter egg, oral [f receiving] and then oral [f receiving] again, sex acts in public, jealousy, sexting/nudes, unprotected piv sex, exhibitionism, dirty talk, light choking, overstimulation [f], pain kink, kinda dom!joel, describing men as pretty and beautiful because I LIKE IT, soft!joel. word count: 8.3k series masterlist | main masterlist a lover's pinch playlist a/n: so this whole thing is almost entirely sucking fucking and flirting, and i hope you enjoy it before we encounter angst. all credit to willy shakes for the passage from A&C that joel reads in the opening scene. thanks king for inspiring the title of this series lol xo this is part five of ALP. you can read the previous parts here: one, two, three, four.

Sunday.

The sound of paper rustling wakes you. Muted scrapes of page shifting against page.

Through your lashes you can see a thin reed of sun streaming in the window, flaring across the end of the bed to warm your skin. And there’s a dull ache between your legs; a rhythmic throb that dances and twists through your core, through the muscles in the inside of your thighs. The type of pain that is warm – soft in its caress, like the trail of a lover’s fingertips down your spine. A sort of remembrance, or celebration. And you welcome it eagerly; delight in the sharp reminder of how it felt to welcome his body inside yours again. The hot sting of every third second, the meticulous pulse and ache of flesh that you hope stays with you for days.

Another page turns.

You tilt your head to the side, eyes open a mere crack, and smile at the secrecy of it. At the private sincerity of this man who lies awake, sporting nothing but the thin veil of a sheet, gaze fierce and focused on an endless stream of text that raps his attention. It’s a type of heaven for him, you realise. This resting place, as calm and tranquil it is. The only weight that bears down is in the place where his wrist bends, hand coiled around the spine of a book, fingers poised, flicking impatiently against the corner of a page, begging to turn it, to see more.

You take in every ripple of muscle, every dip and curve and freckle and scar. The jut of his elbow. The hard line of his jaw. Watch pink lips part and purr as he whispers the words on the page to himself, and think about how perfect that mouth felt between your thighs.

His fingers pinch the corner of a page, pressing it down into a dog ear before he moves onto the next. You wonder what piqued his interest, what collection of words made him want to mark it, to leave a trail for himself to come back one day and remember.

You break the silence finally. “What are you reading?”

Joel flinches, glasses jolting to the tip of his nose.

“You’re awake.”

“I am,” you hum. When he stares at you for a moment you just smile, snaking a hand out from the sheet to tap the page of his book. “Tell me.”

“Shakespeare,” he murmurs, a faint blotch of red rising at the base of his neck. You want to kiss that blush—taste it. Want to know if his skin smells like you. “Antony and Cleopatra.”

“I love that one,” you yawn. “Where are you up to?”

“Act five,” he says. “Cleopatra’s big scene.”

“Will you read it to me?” you smirk.

There’s an upward shift of an eyebrow. The spark of a curious glint in his eye.

“Really?” he drawls, unimpressed.

“Please?” your smile softens into something kind, something honest.

With a sharp sigh, and a quick adjustment of his glasses, Joel begins to read.

“Give me my robe, put on my crown,” he begins slowly, as if unsure. “I have immortal longings in me: now no more. The juice of Egypt’s grape shall moist his lip: yare, yare, good Iras; quick.”

His voice is a low vibration, a honeyed sound that drifts through the air and has goosebumps raising across your skin. You watch his mouth shape the words, enamoured. Savouring every glimpse of his teeth, every slip of his tongue between them.

“Methinks I hear Antony call; I see him rouse himself to praise my noble act. I hear some mock the luck of Caesar, which the gods give men to excuse their after wrath. Husband, I come. Now to that name my courage prove my title.”

His hair is a mess. A shock of greying curls that have flattened against his scalp after a night of being pressed into his pillow, threatening to spring up again. That dull pain flares in your core again and you rub your thighs together in an attempt to quell the ache. But something stirs there—low, prowling just behind the pain. Something wet and wild that whispers his name.

“I am fire and air,” Joel continues obliviously, licking his thumb to turn the page with ease. “My other elements I give to baser life. So; have you done?”

Slowly, listening—hanging—you shift against the mattress. Allow the sheet to fall down to your stomach, exposing your breasts to the morning air. Your nipples stiffen, chest tightening as he glances at them from the corner of his eye. He pauses, mouth ajar. Swallows. Brown eyes return to the page, and he continues to read.

“Come then, and take the last warmth from my lips.”

Your hand drifts across the mattress, hidden from sight as it traverses the soft plains of the sheets, the blankets, and then the skin of his thigh. Bare, but smattered with soft hairs that tickle your palm and fingertips. Goosebumps tear across his skin and his breathing hitches; the faintest cracks in his calm façade. You surpass where you can see him hardening, fingers floating up his side to rest against his stomach. Gently, you feel across the soft slopes and curves of his tummy. Glide your finger over the dip of his belly button and smile when he clears his throat, legs shifting in a restless dance. And then your hand shifts down. Past his happy trail, past the dark curls at his base, to wrap your fingers softly around his length.

“Farewell, kind Charmian,” Joel’s voice deepens. “Iras, long farewell.”

You lower yourself on the bed, dragging the sheets with you until they rest wayward and wrinkled around his knees. Your cheek nuzzles against his thigh as you stroke him, humming in delight as his cock stiffens in your palm.

Joel sighs. “You don’t have to—”

“Keep going,” you hush, glancing up. He watches you over the top of his glasses, gaze darkening. There’s still sleep in the corners of his eyes, and it’s so soft, so domestic, it almost hurts. You look down, simpering as you admire the sight of his cock, now fully hard and leaking in your grasp.

The head is swollen, a flushed shade so reminiscent to that of his lips that you want to kiss him. But his skin is warm and smooth, like silk as you nuzzle his length against your face. Feel his wetness streak across your skin, over the closed line of your lips, the apple of your cheek. “Joel,” you urge him quietly when he still doesn’t speak.

“Have I the aspic in my lips?” His voice is hoarse when he continues; wanton, rough with sleep and desire. “Dost fall?”

You lathe soft kisses against the tip, along the vein that pulses along the side of his shaft, against the tight swell of his balls, taking your time with him. You giggle when he sucks in a sharp inhale, the muscles in his thighs tightening beneath your cheek.

“Such a pretty cock,” you whisper, swiping your fingers over his weeping head.

“Yeah?” he exhales and drops the book against his stomach, fingers reaching to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Gonna show me how much you like it?”

“Mhm,” you bat your eyelashes up at him.

Joel raises the book again, slowly, eyes unfocused and glassy but still watching—still devouring—the way your lips purse around his tip. His stomach tightens when your tongue leaves soft kitten licks against the slit, lapping at the salty precome that rests there.

“If thou and nature,” he murmurs. “Can so gently part.”

And it’s almost painful, the way he sounds. Exhalations of tragic Shakespeare mixed with soft gasps, with curses loosed beneath his breath. The occasional revered whisper of your name, spurring you on.

His free hand settles at the back of your head, thick fingers curling in your hair as your lips part to take him deeper inside your mouth. “Fuck,” he groans, hips shifting against the mattress. “That’s it, baby, god you’re good at that.”

You hum around the weight of him, stomach warming at the praise. Swirl your tongue generously around his girth, lathing saliva over his skin until it’s dripping down to his balls. You cup them gently in your palm, massage him as your lips drag to rest around his tip again, paying close attention to the way he gasps and sighs when the point of your tongue dances along the ridge at the underside of his head.

“Sensitive there?” you ask quietly, eyes flitting up to look at his face. His cheeks are flushed, eyebrows furrowed as he nods.

“S’good,” he confirms, fingers tightening in your hair as you rub that spot again. A fresh bead of precome oozes from his slit and you smile, fingers curling around his length to tap his tip against the flat of your tongue. “Jesus,” he mutters, eyelids fluttering. “Yeah, good girl.”

You shift down on him eagerly, letting the heavy weight of him slip against your tongue, inside the warmth of your mouth, until he’s pressing against the back of your throat and you can hear him moaning.

“Got the prettiest fuckin’ mouth, baby,” Joel whispers. “S’like a fuckin’ dream, seeing those lips on my cock again.”

You whimper and swallow around him. A tear squeezes out of the corner of your eye, trailing a shiny path down to your chin. In steady, measured movements, your head bobs up and down on his length, guided by the gentle press of his hand.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Take it all, baby, yea—yes.”

You relax your throat and take him deep enough to feel your nose brush against the rough hairs at his base.

“The stroke of death is as a lover’s pinch,” he reads, the cadence of his words stilted and breathy. “Which hurts, and is desired.”

Suddenly, his hips jut upward and you gag, throat constricting around him until your eyes are wet and blurry. He tugs gently on your hair, pulling you backward until you part from him with a splutter, messy strings of saliva dangling between your swollen mouth and his cock.

“God damn,” he swipes a finger across your lower lip. “Doin’ so good, sweetheart. So so good."

You think your eyes water more at that. Sweetheart.

“I want it,” you slur, lids heavy as you make eye contact with him.

“What do you want?” he pushes, cupping your jaw in his large palm. “Tell me.”

“Want you to come in my mouth,” your face warms and you lick your lips, fingers stroking him slowly. “Want all of it.” Everything.

“Okay,” Joel soothes, and then his hand drops from your hair so he can grip himself. Gently, he glides the tip along your bottom lip, trailing his salt across the skin of your chin, your cheeks, your nose, before finally pressing the head back against your tongue. “Take it, come on. It’s yours.”

He presses between your lips, jaw tensing, and his eyes drift back to the book as you begin to move.

“Dost thou lie still?” he reads. “If thus thou vanishes, thou—Christ—thou tell’st the world.”

Your lips are tight around him, mouth sucking and moving in tandem with the strokes of your fingers, wrapped loosely around his base. Carefully, you shift to straddle his shins, forearms resting heavily against his thighs as you bring him to the brink of his orgasm. Yours.

“Fuck,” you hear him spit, and then he’s arching forward, the splay of his palm moving down the length of your spine until his fingers slip into the crevice between your ass cheeks. Gripping and squeezing the flesh there until you’re moaning too, the vibrations of your voice muddling with the wet sounds of your mouth against his cock.

It doesn’t take much longer for coherent thought to evade him, Antony and Cleopatra flung to the wayside of the bed as his broad hands cradle your head, the tip of his cock nudging the back of your throat with every thrust. Your entire body is hot, slick with sweat, the musky scent of Joel filling your nostrils with every rushed inhale. The sounds he’s making turn rougher, deeper; raspy grunts and exhales that are almost animalistic in their intensity, and then—

“Fuckin—look at me,” he bites out, and watery eyes flutter open to meet his gaze. “Need to see those pretty eyes when I fill you up.”

And fuck you’re wet. So wet that it’s seeping onto the skin of your thighs, drooling out of you as you clench around sweet sweet nothing, cunt desperate and begging to be filled again. Tightening your fingers around his cock, you drag your mouth back to suck gently around the pulsating head, and when he comes it’s with a drawn-out, laboured groan that fades into harsh mutterings of your name and fuck and so fuckin’ good at that god damnit and that’s it, swallow it all baby, it’s yours, it’s yours, it’s yours.

You pull off him with a gasp, sucking in deep desperate breaths as you fall onto your back beside him.

Soft sheets stick to the sweat on your skin, and you close your eyes, vaguely aware of how the two of you breathe in sync; a high-strung cacophony of sharp inhales and heavy exhales.

After a few quiet moments you ask, “What time is it?”

“Eighty thirty,” he answers. The mattress jostles and tilts as his large frame shifts on it.

“Probably time to start the day,” you grumble, throat raw and tired.

But you can feel hands on your waist, nudging you backward until your head is slumped amongst the soft pillows again. And when your eyes peak open Joel is getting comfortable between your legs, glasses forgotten somewhere out of sight, hands pressing your thighs into the mattress to reveal your glistening sex to him.

And he says, “No,” shaking his head slowly, near-black eyes piercing as his lips lower to meet your cunt. “Not yet.”

You were unsure, initially, whose idea it was.

Unsure of who spoke first; if you or him brought up the idea of the museum. Unsure if he mentioned the bookstore or you mentioned The Iliad. Unsure, unsure, unsure.

But as you stand on the outskirts of Central Park—showered, dressed, sure—eyes scanning the front window of the shop, the glass overflowing with newspaper cuttings and novel covers and author profiles and ads for signings – you are certain that it was him. Certain that he asked what your plans were for the day, head resting on your thigh, lips and beard still glistening with your come. Certain that you mentioned going to the museum, and that those brown eyes lit up, mouth splitting into a smile as he revealed that he had plans close by. Certain that he introduced the idea of going together.

A bell tinkles and your gaze sharpens, watching as his broad frame slips out the door with a brown paper bag tucked under his armpit. Joel ticks his head wordlessly to the side and you fall into step next to him, two sets of shoes scuffing against the pavement in a perfect rhythm.

“Can I see it?” you ask, eyes roaming curiously around the street.

“Sure,” Joel holds the bag out and you take it carefully, fingers peeling back paper so you can take a peak inside.

“The cover is beautiful,” you breathe, fingers tracing vibrant swaths of gold and red, the white lettering that spells The Iliad. You balance the spine in your palm, curious to flick through to the first page. To see the acknowledgements, her author photo, anything. And as your eyes skirt over the very first page your feet stutter to a stop, pulse increasing as you spot the black marker on the page. A messily scrawled signature.

“Joel.”

Joel says your name, pausing a few steps ahead before turning back to face you. “What’s wrong?” he frowns.

You hold up the page, brows lifted in awe. “She… how did you get a signed copy?”

“We’ve met a few times in passing,” he admits sheepishly, eyes glancing between the book and your face. “I’ve always admired her work, and she offered to set a copy aside for me here. She’s very impressive, the first woman to—”

“The first woman to publish an English translation of The Odyssey,” you interrupt. “Yeah, Joel, I know exactly who Emily Wilson is.”

“And now she’s published The Iliad,” he hums. You begin walking again, the museum in sight now. “I’m lookin’ forward to readin’ it. Especially now that I’ve heard all your thoughts about how women and men translate differently. I’m sure it’ll be on my mind as I go.”

The skin on your face prickles and tightens under his attention. You’re still smiling, a wide and satisfised flash of your teeth, when the two of you reach The Met. Still smiling when he pays for your tickets and leads you toward the Cloisters.

You wander together through the exhibit. Medieval, Bohemian, Byzantine. Jean Pucelle, Robert Campin, Tilman. You catch Joel staring at the Bust of the Virgin, one hand on his hip, knee jutted out as he admires her elegance, the tenderness with which her face was carved.

“You like her?” you tease.

His shoulders stiffen and then relax into a sort of indignant laugh.

“I like terracotta,” he smarts, reaching out to pinch your forearm. When he pulls his hand away you see his eyes dart over your shoulder – a quick glance around the room to see if anyone noticed.

“Oh of course,” you nod, a mock serious expression on your face. “Me too. Terracotta virgins.”

“You know,” he huffs, turning to face you head on. “You oughta start showin’ me a bit of respect. Where’s your reverence for an authority figure, huh?”

“Authority?” your eyes widen, smirking broadly as you take a step forward, the material of your jacket brushing against his. “And what authority might that be?”

“I could fail you,” he murmurs, glancing down at your lips. “Tell everyone you’re the worst student I ever had. Never does as she’s told, always talkin’ back.”

“Oh, Professor,” you whisper back, fingers curling around the hem of his shirt, your snark emboldened by his. “I hate to say it, but you’re not very convincing in your distaste.”

You don’t wait around to see his reaction, turning on your heel and heading into the next room. Your cheeks are sore from smiling at the end of it, eyes tired from reading, and then you reach the courtyard gardens. See the cloisters. See the Romanesque columns with their fluting grooves that lead into arches, see the vast green garden with its flowers of yellow and pink and purple. Herbs and flora border the walking paths, filling the air with the scent of thyme and rosemary, and you can’t help but grin.

“Not bad right?” Joel’s voice comes from behind you.

“Not bad at all,” you turn to smile at him. “Would’ve been cooler if they had some dinosaur bones around here though. A museum should always have a dinosaur.”

“A dinosaur,” he repeats, quietly amused. “Of course, you like dinosaurs.”

“I thought, uh,” Joel clears his throat then. Glances away for a second. “Thought you might like it here; that it might remind you of your time in Greece.”

The words make your chest go all warm and tight. He looks so handsome, so easy in the middle of it all. Dark features and broad shoulders softened by the smell of flowers.

“It does,” you nod. “A little bit.”

“What was it like?” he asks.

“Greece was…” you trail off as you remember it. White sand beaches, turquoise waters, boreks and Doric columns, seemingly endless nights spent translating sheets and sheets and sheets of ancient texts. “It was wonderful, really. I feel so lucky to have had the opportunity, and Professor Samaras was a phenomenal instructor.”

Joel nods, fingers looped and resting across his stomach as he digests your answer.

“Good,” is the response he settles on, finally. “I’m glad. You… you deserve that. You work hard, and your presentation was solid.”

And it’s been less than twenty-four hours, but those words bring you calm now, not frustration like they did last night. So you smile, and thank him, and don’t stop yourself from asking him something in return.

“Have you really never been?” you ask, eyes squinting inquisitively as you watch his face, searching the emotions that flitter across it – near impossible to decipher, as always. “You said you weren’t interested, that first night when we spoke about it… but I would’ve thought… I don’t know, maybe a semester abroad or… or a fellowship?”

“Never,” he looks away. “Always too little time, too little money, too many responsibilities.”

You nod slowly, watch him curiously. You wish you could peel back his skin and see inside of that gorgeous brain, that heart. Understand every trouble, every missed opportunity that weighs on his shoulders.

“There’s still time,” you offer. “You’ve got so much time, Joel.”

Joel looks at you and you can see in his eyes that he’s grateful for the words. See that the earnestness with which you speak brings him some kind of solace, some kind of hope.

His fingers graze the skin of your wrist, curling around it to hold you in place beside him. Your body stills, eyes training carefully on the garden; the green of the grass, the pink of the flowers that bloom amongst it all. One of his fingers searches the skin at the inside of your wrist, swiping and rubbing over the tendons and veins there until he finds where your lifeline pulses. And then he strokes that spot, a calm, meticulous glide of his fingertip, over where blood thrums and rushes inside your body.

The tickling sensation has a painful knot of want curling in your chest, but you don’t stop him. Don’t pull your hand away, don’t take a step back. And with every stroke against skin, you feel it as if it where between your thighs—the soft curling of a finger between your folds, against your clit. It feels feverish, like a steady flame that spreads across your skin, up your chest to lick at the inside of your ribcage.

“Soft,” he says, his voice low and thoughtful. “You’re so soft.” And it sounds painfully like, you’ve got so much time.

And you look at him and he knows. Your face says it all.

Says, let your hands wander wherever they like. Says, if you touched me here—now—I wouldn’t say a word, wouldn’t tell a soul. Says, everything I have to offer is yours if you could only bring yourself to take it. Says, and if your hand won’t wander, won’t stray, I’ll take it in my own and show you where to touch.

So you lead him back inside. Quiet, discreet, slipping past patrons and staff and guards until you find a bathroom. Tuck him inside and smile at the snap of the lock shifting into place behind you.

Joel’s knees meet tile with a soft thud, and dark eyes hold yours as he peels your trousers down, as he drags the slick fabric of your underwear to the side, as he presses the soft cut of his mouth between your legs. He watches you, steadfast, cheeks ablaze and pupils blown as his tongue works you open, calloused fingers holding your left thigh over his shoulder.

And after you’ve come, face pinched and hidden behind your palm, he pulls away. Skirts wet kisses down the inside of your thigh, against the shell of your kneecap, to the bruise that colours your shin.

And he whispers, “Does it hurt?” with his fingers tracing tender splotches of purple and blue.

And you whisper, “No.” with your fingers brushing the curls off his forehead.

Afterwards you walk through the park, pressing through streams of tourists and locals alike; a lively crowd that parts and flurries around the two of you as you push forward. He fields your questions about Emily Wilson, about the years he spent doing his PhD, parrying seamlessly with queries about the West coast, about your undergrad, your roommates.

The bubble doesn’t break until Joel gets the text. Cursing softly, he turns away from you, eyes focused on his screen.

“Everything okay?” you ask.

“Yeah, yes,” Joel says, fingers flying across the touch screen, typing out a response before he tucks his phone away. “I, uh, look I actually forgot that I have somethin’ I need to do tonight.”

“Sounds mysterious,” you smile, eyebrows raised expectantly. But your smile wavers when he doesn’t match your teasing, face relaxing as you wait.

“Rachel and I planned this dinner a few weeks ago,” he explains. “When we both agreed to attend the conference.”

“Oh,” you blink. “That’s nice.”

“It’s this thing we do,” Joel offers, shifting on his feet. “A tradition, I suppose. To celebrate another conference done.” And you remember, I’ve been to twenty of the damn things. His twenty to your one.

“That’s nice,” you repeat, and hold your smile when he checks his phone again.

Hold it when he tells you he should go, that he needs to get ready to meet her. Hold it when he hesitates, staring at you for a moment. Hold it when he presses a chaste kiss to the side of your head, lips meeting your temple, the weakest point of your skull, before turning to walk away from you.

Only when you’re alone do you let the smile fall.

After a lonely dinner, you find yourself back in your hotel room, thinking about Rachel.

Folding your blue dress into a neat square, and then a smaller square. Tucking it into your duffel bag, thinking about the rough sound of her laugh. The soft curve of her jaw, the sparkling greys that curl through her dark hair. You fold your underwear, pack that too, and think of her fluorescent toenails and her dangling earrings. Think of how sure she is; how intelligent, how charismatic. And then you think of yesterday – of her hand on Joel’s arm, soft fingers curling around the sleeve of his blazer, carting him around the conference. Leading him. Standing by his side, making him laugh.

And it burns, this hot feeling in your chest. Something dark green and scalding, fiery enough that you feel the need to sit on the edge of the bed and press your palm against the skin above your breast to tamp it down. Feel your heartbeat there, the rise and fall of your chest with each breath, and tell yourself that this feeling is cruel and unforgiving but that it is wrong. You lay out your clothes for the airport, wrap yourself up in the coarse hotel robe and push away the images your mind creates of them at dinner together. Push away the thought of her foot nudging his beneath the table, the thought of them sitting beside each other, thighs brushing like yours had on the bench last night. Because it’s wrong. Joel isn’t like that. Joel wouldn’t do that.

When Nora calls, you pick up on the second ring.

“How did it go?” she squeals, and you feel your shoulders relax at the sound of her voice.

“It was good,” you respond. “I feel good about it. Glad it’s over though.”

“You never answered my text—" the line crackles a little, muffling the last word of her sentence. “I was worried something bad might’ve happened.”

“Fuck,” you apologise. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that, I—I got caught up with something, I… I wasn’t looking at my phone.”

There’s a beat of silence over the phone. Another fried, crackle over the line.

“Oh you cheeky bitch,” she gasps then. “You could’ve just said you were getting some!”

“Nora—” you try, stomach dropping.

“Who the fuck was it?” she continues eagerly. You can almost picture the way her eyes would widen if she were here with you, hands clenched excitedly at her sides as she pushes for all the gory details. “Was it someone from the conference? Oh my god, was it someone from UNE?”

“No, no,” you rush, feeling an anxious heat rise in your chest. “It was just a random guy, we… I met him at a bar afterwards, it’s no one from Maine. No one from the conference.”

Another pause.

“And?” she asks finally. “How was it?”

You consider her question for a moment. Remember the way he undressed you in the dim light of his hotel room – slow, cautious. Remember the way he looked at you. Those dark brown eyes feasting over every inch of flesh, every mark, every freckle, every scar. The feeling of his hands on your breasts, his bare chest against yours as he pressed inside of you.

Quietly, earnestly, you say, “It was amazing,” and smile when she hollers down the line.

And this feeling is so much kinder, you think. The relief and the warmth that comes with being able to tell someone. To talk about him, even if you’re not really talking about him. Even if she can’t really know the truth.

You put her on speaker, still listening and laughing as she rattles off question after question. Did he go down on you? How big was he? Wait he was older?! You bitch! How old?! That’s hot. Fuck, I need to get laid.

“You really do,” you chuckle, laying down against the pillows and typing out a text to Joel.

Are you enjoying your dinner?

He replies within minutes.

Yeah, the restaurant is nice.

What are you doing?

“Hey Nora?” you interrupt. “I actually need to go.”

“Oh,” she huffs. “Alright, alright, I get it. You’re gonna go get fucked again. Good for you bitch.”

“I love you,” you laugh, already typing out a response to him. “See you tomorrow when I get home.”

Well my bags are packed, and I just tucked myself into bed

You watch the text bubble appear, disappear, and reappear over three times before it vanishes completely. Minutes go by; maybe ten, maybe fifteen, and then—

Show me.

Grinning, you loosen the tie around your robe to reveal a flash of the skin across your chest; the curve of your left breast, the peak of your nipple. Take a picture and make sure he can see your finger snagged between your lips, resting against the softness of your tongue.

For a moment you worry. Feel a spike of fear in your chest that if you send it someone else might catch a glimpse of his screen – that Rachel might see it. But then another text comes through, and you feel that fear melt into a warm pool of liquid.

I know you want to show me, sweetheart.

So you do. You click send and wait, teeth catching against the nail on your thumb.

The response is almost instant.

Jesus.

Are you wet?

You know I am

Are you touching yourself?

Good.

Dinner finished early. Where are you?

You send him the address of your hotel. Call the lobby and tell them to let him up. And when he arrives, you’re waiting for him on the balcony. You hear the heavy pad of his footsteps crossing the room, and then the slide of the glass door. Feel the broad span of his chest press against your back; outstretched fingers that glide around the curve of your waist to settle over your stomach.

Joel doesn’t say a word, nosing at the frizzled kinks of hair at the base of your neck. One of his hands drifts upward, fingers curling beneath the neckline of your robe, just grazing the curve of your breast. You let your eyes fall closed and think this feels like coming home. Think, if this moment could last for hours, for days, for ever, that would be enough, and I’d never ask for another thing. Think, where have I been all of my life, and why was it not here with him?

You say, “Let’s go inside,” as he touches your nipple, and feel him shake his head.

“No,” he says. Presses his hips against your ass, rough denim brushing the backs of your knees. “Want you here.”

You start to say Someone might see, but Joel pushes you forward again and your stomach presses against railing. Your eyes dart down toward the street, the road. To cars and pedestrians and tourists.

“You don’t want that?” his lips brush the side of your neck as he speaks, the softest pressure. He tugs at your robe, guiding it down past your shoulders, elbows, until it pools around your feet. “Don’t want them to see us together?”

“That’s not—” you gasp as his teeth sink into the skin of your shoulder, hot tongue gliding over already bruising flesh. “Fuck, Joel.”

He groans against your skin, lathing wet kisses past your neck to the top of your spine. His hands are on your waist and your stomach and your tits and his jeans chafe against your bare ass, zipper catching every now and then. But your mind is hazy, a blur of thoughts that can only focus on the feeling of teeth and lips, on something long and firm pressing through the material of his pants, rutting slowly against you.

“You’re hard already,” you breathe, surprised—delighted.

Joel grunts, distracted. “Been hard since you sent me that picture.”

A shaky breathes leave your lips as his hand skirts down your stomach, your hipbones, until his fingers slip past the glistening seam of your cunt – tender and swollen and aching.

“But that’s what you wanted, hmm?” he rasps. You whimper as his fingers circle over your entrance, collecting your slick and dragging it upward. A flinch rips through you when he touches your clit, the nerves fraught after being given so much attention throughout the day. “You like knowin’ how much I want you? How badly? You like that I’d leave dinner early just to come here and fuck you?”

Face on fire, you nod; caught out. And then he takes another step forward, bending you further over the railing and pressing himself against you, hard enough that you can feel his cock between your ass cheeks, denim scraping the sensitive skin there.

“That is how much I want you. All the fuckin’ time,” he says. “Get it?”

“Joel,” you stutter urgently, voice almost a squeak. Your thighs shake, knees close to buckling as his finger rubs slow circles against your clit. “S’too—fuck, Joel, it’s too sensitive.” It burns, too much – but his touch only serves to stoke the fire in your belly until it’s a roaring, raging thing, begging for more of too much.

“I know, honey,” he groans, and you think you can hear the sound of his zipper coming undone. “You sore?”

When you don’t answer immediately Joel’s fingers still, body straightening as if he’s about to stop, about to pull away.

“Don’t,” you say quickly. “Just—”

“M’not goin’ anywhere,” Joel hushes. “Does it hurt?”

You hesitate, stomach tightening when his fingers start to move again. “It’s… yeah a little, but it’s…”

“But you like it? Like it when it hurts a little?” he fills the silence, and you can hear the change in his voice. Hear how it deepens, a gravelly effect that has your cunt tightening. You cringe, turn your head to the side in the hopes that he won’t see your reaction. But he doesn’t let it slide. Of course not. “Talk to me.”

“Yeah, yes, I like it,” you admit, exhaling a relieved sigh when you hear his belt hit the ground.

“Good,” he says, and then you can feel him, hot silken skin on your own, the wet glide of his cock against your ass check.

His knuckles brush against you as he adjusts himself, and the weight of his tip at your opening is not unlike the brush of his fingers along your bruised shin. Tender, careful – the touch of someone that would never hurt you. Not unless you asked him to.

When Joel rocks his hips forward, cock splitting you open around his weight, the stretch is long and deep. A sweet, searing burn that has you balancing on the tips of your toes, mouth hanging open as you grip the railing and take it. The night air is cool against your skin, but warm hands land firm on your hips, thumbs circling and rubbing away the goosebumps there

“God,” he grunts into the hinge of your jaw, teeth nipping at the muscle there. “You’re so wet, so needy. Want this cock all the time, don’t you?”

You can only moan in response – a choked, whimper of a noise that scratches its way out of your throat as he bottoms out. His thighs are warm and thick against yours, body practically moulding itself to you as you squirm, cunt pulsing around the thick length of him.

He gives you a moment to adjust, waits to feel you relax against him, and then he’s moving. Slow, powerful thrusts that have you feeling him in your stomach, and wishing you could see his face. Wishing you could watch his nose scrunch up, his lips curl into a snarl as he fucks you. Wishing that everything you’re feeling could be reflected back to you in his face, the way it was last night.

“Thought about you all night,” he says in your ear, a dirty little confession, whispered only for you to hear. “You know how sick that is? At dinner with my colleague, my friend, and I couldn’t get this perfect cunt out of my head. S’drivin’—me—fuckin’—crazy.”

And it’s sick, it’s awful, but you feel your lips peel back, face breaking into a toothy grin at the words. That envy, that jealousy, that dark green sticky feeling - all of it for naught because you were right. Joel Miller is yours.

“Yeah?” you pant, pushing your ass back into him and smiling even wider when he grunts, blunt fingernails digging into your waist. “What were you thinking about?”

“’Bout how tight you always are,” he kisses the side of your neck, tongue flicking incessantly against the skin there. “How perfect you felt around me last night. How you take it so well.” He bites down, sucking until the skin throbs, another mark left in his wake. “How, if I can help it, I’ll never wear a condom when I fuck you again.”

You curse, head lolling back against his shoulder. The confession makes you ache. “Please,” you mutter desperately. “Joel, please.”

“Thought about fillin’ you up,” he continues eagerly. “Fuckin’ you so hard, so deep with my come that you’d feel it for days. And you’d be mine.” His hips snap forward in a particularly harsh thrust and you grunt, cringing as the railing bites into your ribs. Mine mine mine.

“I’m yours,” you moan as he fucks you, a steady smack-smack-smack sound filling the air as his hips collide with the meat of your ass, over, and over, and over again. “You know I am.”

And you want to know what he thinks of that, want to know what comes next, but the sound of laughter echoes up from the street suddenly, and you tense, eyes snapping wide open. Joel doesn’t slow down.

“Look at them,” he hushes, voice quietening some.

His hand raises to point somewhere over the balcony, but you don’t see where; eyes trained on his fingers, his skin, the blue veins that swell and pulse beneath it. Your eyes try to follow it, but you’re looking the wrong way, following the hard line of his wrist, the corded veins in his forearm, his bicep, trying desperately, shamelessly, to catch a glimpse of his face.

“I said look at them,” his voice deepens, an authoritative tone taking over as his long fingers grip your jaw, angling it down until you do as he says.

You can see three of them. Squinting, you try to make out their faces from four storeys up. Stumbling down the street, laughing loudly, bumping shoulders as they walk.

Joel’s hips press forward and you gasp, eyes rolling back as his swollen tip nudges the deepest, softest place inside of you.

“Wait,” you whisper hoarsely, body jerking forward with every practised thrust of his cock. Say again, “Someone might see.”

“I hope they do,” he growls, hand falling to drape over your neck.

His fingers press gently against either side, cradling your pulse point in the palm of his hand. Your brain goes foggy with the pressure, mind buzzing and blurring. The sensation of his broad grip against your throat mixes with the drag of his cock between your thighs and it’s intoxicating; a high that you’ve never experienced before, and never want to end. You don’t realise how loud you’re gasping, moaning, keening his name, until you hear him laugh. A rough, elated sound.

“I knew it,” he chuckles, and you tighten around him, fingers fumbling backward, seeking purchase at the soft flesh of his hips as he continues rocking into you. His hand drops from your neck to your tits, and he squeezes.

“Admit it. Admit you fuckin’ love it,” Joel pants, every word punctuated by a white-hot press of his cock and a heavy exhalation against your neck. “Dirty little thing—you want them to see. Say it.”

“Fuck,” you cry, spine arching as you push backward, meeting the movements of his hips.

“Fuckin’ say it,” he snaps, all hints of laughter gone now, his rough drawl only offset by the fond way his hands play with your tits. Careful, kind; every pinch, every squeeze, every caress a generous and tender display.

“I want it,” you blubber, sight blurring into a mess of streetlights and skyscrapers and strangers on the street. “W-want them to see how you fuck me, how you take care of me.”

“That’s it,” he groans, and you can feel the way he twitches inside of you, cock jerking against your walls in hot fast movements.

“Want them to know,” you continue, and there’s tears streaking messily down your cheeks, your lips moving faster than you can control. “Want them to see us, see how good it is, how perfect.”

And it’s too much now, you think. Finally, too much of too much. The railing is bruising against your stomach. Every stroke of his cock, every graze of your nipples – Joel’s touch akin to the end of a frayed wire, sparking and spitting embers wherever the two of you come into contact. Your cunt is on fire, every inch of sticky wet flesh throbbing and smarting.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Can feel you squeezin’ me, baby, you gonna show them how you come for me? Gonna let them hear it?”

“I can’t,” you choke out, shaking your head numbly. Yours lungs are on fire, mouth dry as you try fruitlessly to suck in breath after breath. “Fuck, I don’t think I can—”

“Hey,” his voice calls. A rough finger wipes across your cheek, smearing the salty tears further across your skin. “You can, you can, I can’t—I fuckin’ need this, need it.”

“It’s too much,” you gasp frantically. But your words aren’t matched by the desperate grind of your hips. Aren’t matched by the way you twitch and shake between him and the glass, abdomen tensing tighter tighter tighter with every thrust. “Fuck, I’m—I’m close but it’s too much, Joel, it’s too much, I can’t, I can’t—”

He pulls out quickly. You gasp wetly at the loss, at how your walls clench and suck around that empty warm space in his absence. Deft hands grip your waist, tilting and turning you until your back is against the railing now, and his mouth is between your legs, wet lips and tongue so soft in comparison, so soothing against that burn.

There’s no shying away now, no stuttering or whining – you simply melt, thigh softening around the curve of his shoulder, allowing him to hold you up as his tongue teases and coaxes you to the edge of your third mind-numbing, toe-curling orgasm that day.

And you don’t notice at first how his bicep shifts and flexes beneath your thigh. Don’t notice how he groans and sighs against your messy cunt, panting and muttering your name as he strokes his cock in tight, wet jerks. And when you come, gushing into his mouth, his eyes snap open, endless spheres of deep brown gazing up at you, desperate to see. Your legs tremble with the force of it, hands grappling for purchase on his shoulders, in his hair. And with your lips parted, tears drying on your cheeks, you watch the way his face crumples—wrecked. How eyebrows furrow and eyelids flutter shut. Joel’s mouth slips away from you, teeth sinking into the flesh of your thigh, something to ground him as he grunts, a low, ragged sound, before you feel him come in warm, thick spurts against your calf.

“Fuck,” you mumble deliriously. Can hardly hear yourself over the roar of your pulse in your ears. “So good, you’re so beautiful.”

Joel’s face is flushed, skin tinged with a deep red that settles across the highest peaks of his cheekbones and disappears into his beard. And when his eyes open again, drowsiness swimming beneath those heavy lids, you can see the way they shine. Glistening with something wet, something earnest. You thumb gently at his waterline, swiping away the tears like he’s done for you.

His lips press a chaste kiss to the pad of your thumb, tongue snaking out to lick his tear from your skin, and you think you must repeat it, So beautiful, because he smiles. Breathing heavily, eyes wet, he grins for you. A flash of white that he quickly smothers against the skin of your leg.

After catching his breath, Joel leads you inside and helps you shower. Stands outside the glass door, hand gripping your elbow to brace your shaking frame as you glide soap over your arms, down your legs. His fingers dig in firmer when you slip a hand between your thighs, whimpering as warm water streams over the sensitive skin there. He doesn’t flinch or shy away when specks of water flick out and dampen his shirt.

“You okay?” he asks as he helps you out, wrapping a towel around your shoulders.

You nod, mind still foggy, and let him rub the coarse fabric over the skin of your arms, your legs, drying you off before he tucks you back into your robe. And when he leads you back into the room, helping you carefully onto the bed, a flash of concern splits across his face. He takes a step back, a step away, until his back is brushing against the wall.

You lay down on the bed, heavy limbs splayed haphazardly across the soft blankets and pillows. Your robe is open, the tie still forgotten somewhere on the balcony, revealing the skin of your stomach, your thighs, still dotted with warm droplets of water.

And Joel's not far, not really; tucked away in the corner of the room, unsure, arms hanging listlessly by his sides as he stares. Takes in every inch of you as if it’s the first time all over again. Perhaps, as if he’s worried it will be the last.

“I should go,” he says, painfully unconvincing.

“Yeah,” you agree quietly, eyelids heavy as you stare back at him.

Your lips part in a soft yawn as you scratch languidly at the skin over your ribs, and dark eyes follow the movement of your fingers. Watch how your skin smarts and pulls beneath your fingernails until you sigh in contentment, the itch disappearing.

“You gotta be up early,” he says.

“I do.”

“And it’s late,” his eyebrows raise.

“Is it?” you smile. Raise your eyebrows in return and laugh when he sighs, hands twitching at his sides.

“Are we really doing this again?” you ask, smile slipping when you notice his frown. The twisted furrow of his brows, the curl of his upper lip. As if all of the features on his face have pinched together in the middle. Something churns in your stomach; a sick feeling that rises to lodge at the base of your throat. Waiting. “Talk to me.”

“M’tryin’,” he admits quietly. “Tryin’… tryin’ to be good. I want to be good.”

Your heart drops. And then, driven by some emotion that you can’t name, don’t want to name, it climbs its way back up, lurching forward in your chest. It claws and scrapes and tears itself out through a crack between two of your ribs, flinging itself across the room at him.

“You are good,” you whisper. Feel your bottom lip wobble, unsteady but sure. Certain of nothing but this as the words slip out. “You’re good, Joel. We are good.”

And when he smiles you think you can see it in his teeth. Little fragments of your heart; the beating core of you, dark red and macerated in the cracks of his canines, the lining of his gums.

Joel closes his eyes and repeats the word. A softly murmured, Good, as if the word itself confounds him, and you think you must be imagining the red smeared across his chin. Your blood seeping out past his lips, dribbling down to stain the skin of his neck.

“I hope you’re right.” He takes a deep, steadying breath. One that shakes the planes of his broad chest, makes it rise to its fullest potential before he sucks another in, shoulders relaxing, and walks across the room towards the bed.

Towards you.

thank you for reading! x

#i hope you wanna know what happened at the dinner with rachel #cause i'm gonna tell you #my writing #fic: a lover's pinch #professor!joel #ALP #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut

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genshin-impact-updates · 6 months ago

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Version 4.6 Event Wishes Notice - Phase II

Traveler, stock up on weapons and characters in the event wish to make your party stronger in combat!

Event Wish "From Ashes Reborn" - Boosted Drop Rate for "Eons Adrift" Wanderer (Anemo)!

〓Event Wish Duration〓

2024/5/14 18:00:00—2024/6/4 14:59:00

〓Event Wish Details〓

● During this event wish, the event-exclusive 5-star character "Eons Adrift" Wanderer (Anemo) will receive a huge drop-rate boost!

● During this event wish, the 4-star characters "Fantastical Evening Star" Layla (Cryo), "Enigmatic Machinist" Faruzan (Anemo), and "Uncrowned Lord of the Ocean" Beidou (Electro) will receive a huge drop-rate boost!

※ Of the above characters, the event-exclusive character will not be available in the standard wish "Wanderlust Invocation."

※ This is for "Character Event Wish." The wish guarantee count for "Character Event Wish" and "Character Event Wish-2" is shared, and is accumulated between both "Character Event Wish" and "Character Event Wish-2." This wish guarantee count is independent of the guarantee counts of other types of wishes.

※ The "Test Run" trial event will be open during this event wish. Travelers may use fixed lineups containing the selected trial characters to enter specific stages and test them out. Travelers that complete the challenges will receive the corresponding rewards!

※ For more information, go to the Wish screen and select Details in the bottom-left corner.

Event Wish "Immaculate Pulse" - Boosted Drop Rate for "Beyond Mortality" Baizhu (Dendro)!

〓Event Wish Duration〓

2024/5/14 18:00:00—2024/6/4 14:59:00

〓Event Wish Details〓

● During this event wish, the event-exclusive 5-star character "Beyond Mortality" Baizhu (Dendro) will receive a huge drop-rate boost!

※ Of the above characters, the event-exclusive character will not be available in the standard wish "Wanderlust Invocation."

※ This is for "Character Event Wish-2." The wish guarantee count for "Character Event Wish" and "Character Event Wish-2" is shared, and is accumulated between both "Character Event Wish" and "Character Event Wish-2." This wish guarantee count is independent of the guarantee counts of other types of wishes.

※ For more information, go to the Wish screen and select Details in the bottom-left corner.

Event Wish "Epitome Invocation" - Boosted Drop Rate for Tulaytullah's Remembrance (Catalyst) and Jadefall's Splendor (Catalyst)!

〓Event Wish Duration〓

2024/5/14 18:00:00—2024/6/4 14:59:00

〓Event Wish Details〓

● During this event wish, the event-exclusive 5-star weapons Tulaytullah's Remembrance (Catalyst) and Jadefall's Splendor (Catalyst) will receive a huge drop-rate boost!

● During this event wish, the event-exclusive 4-star weapons Prospector's Drill (Polearm) and Range Gauge (Bow) as well as the 4-star weapons Favonius Sword (Sword), Rainslasher (Claymore), and Sacrificial Fragments (Catalyst) will receive a huge drop-rate boost!

● During this event wish, use Epitomized Path to chart a course towards a promotional 5-star weapon, such as Tulaytullah's Remembrance (Catalyst) or Jadefall's Splendor (Catalyst). For more information on Epitomized Path, go to the Wish screen and select Details in the bottom-left corner.

※ Of the above weapons, the event-exclusive weapons will not be available in the standard wish "Wanderlust Invocation."

※ For more information, go to the Wish screen and select Details in the bottom-left corner.

#genshin impact #genshin impact updates #genshin impact news #official #banners #kaveh still missing i see. but at least layla's back she's been gone for even longer #there's more to post but i'll do that after my final

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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year ago

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Husband [Asgard!Loki x Fem.Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: After a lifetime of longing, it's finally time to seal the deal. Follow on to Heirs - but can be read as a one-shot (w/c 1.8k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Asgardian HC. Fluff & Smut.

The silk chiffon of Loki’s robe tingled against his skin, sash loosely bound. There would be no guards in the corridor that stretched to his chambers. Not tonight.

Pacing barefoot across the marble floor, he noted the squeeze of a damp hand intertwined with his. Steam from the palace baths dissipated from the air with every stride. There were no words needed, just the pad of your footsteps following close behind his own.

With a nudge of his head, Loki sent a wave of seidr rolling up your bodies. You giggled quietly, the delicate sound echoing. The god threw a glance over his shoulder, seeing your newly dried hair bounce as your steps quickened. “Hurry,” you chided, stifling another giggle. Loki turned on his heels, feet squeaking on the polished floor to a stop. You collided with his chest. “You do not command me, wife,” he warned, squinting theatrically before breaking into a smile. Loki’s heart leapt at your gasping laugh as he swept you off your feet, the drape of your matching robes scratching together. Your legs hung over one elbow, his hand securely fastened around your midsection. Loki would never forget the way your pupils dilated as you stared into his eyes, the whole world growing out of focus around what was in his grasp. Around you. “I love you-” he breathed, cutting himself off by leaning to catch your lips. The heavy wooden doors to his chambers opened of their own accord, recognising their master's presence. He let his tongue explore deeper with every powerful stride towards the matrimonial bed, slow and purposeful and all-consuming. Loki stopped, breaking the kiss to take in what lay before you both as the door swung shut. Dozens of tall candles adorned the arched windows, throwing an orange glow towards the navy dusk of Asgard sprawled below, just out of sight. White fur pelts draped across his bed, neat emerald sheets replaced with luxurious folds of cream and beige. Loki’s mouth twitched in mild disapproval. “Look,” you said, excitedly patting his shoulder and nodding towards a table by the fireplace. Lit by soft flickering flame, he saw the traditional finger-food of Asgardian gentry laid out on delicate piles. Each plate more tempting than the last. “Yes, very nice,” Loki hummed feebly, giving the scene a cursory glance before his attention was drawn unavoidably back to the pulse of your neck. Furious desire was thudding in him like the drums of war. It was becoming unbearable. His cock, violently hard and swollen and aching against his stomach. It had a heartbeat. Loki tightened his grip on your body in his arms, inhaling against the angle of your jaw. He sucked at the scent of your clean skin like oxygen, drowning. “Husband?” you moaned softly. She’s impatient. Loki felt every hair on his arms erect in unison.

One of your hands moulded to his cheekbone as you pressed your forehead to his, nuzzling his mouth until he relented. Your lips working against his own, Loki made the final steps to the bed before reluctantly lowering you to the pile of furs. He retreated, drinking in every inch of flimsy white chiffon that did nothing to hide the curves beneath. How she taunts me, he thought with a smile; pulling lightly at the sash around his waist, this wife of mine. The two of you were no virgins. But tonight, it felt like it was so. Wisps of half-forgotten memories twisted deep in the god’s mind; uprooted from their slumber. And another, and another. Like they belonged to someone else.

Lovers of every rank and station, known to him in dark hallways and golden bedchambers. The half-remembrances evaporated like smoke. But none like this, he thought with a comforting smile as his chiffon robe pooled around his ankles. He could feel the warmth rising in your cheeks, radiating from the coyness of your smile. None like her. Loki clasped his hands behind his back, raising his chin. He felt your appraising gaze dart up his displayed body, a series of rapid breaths beginning to pepper the air making his heart swell. Your gentle pants fluttered against his obliques, denying yourself the taste of his skin until the hallowed words had been spoken. They caught behind his teeth. The prince felt his abdomen clench, every muscle in his body resisting the urge to fall upon you. A wild tide on rocks.

“Will you accept me as your husband to your bed this night?” he uttered, laden with ceremony. You straightened in front of him, slow hands tugging at the fastening of your robe.

“Yes, my lord,” you answered seductively, looking him dead in the eye. “I will.”

The sheer fabric began to slip from your shoulders. The exchange was a formality. A tradition. But as Loki’s fingers wrapped around his straining cock, feeling fat droplets of pre-cum roll against knuckles; he conceded it was one Asgardian tradition he was glad to keep.

With an arm outstretched, you dropped the delicate robe onto the stone floor by his feet. Loki could feel the growl building in his throat. Low, primal. A shudder rolled over his biceps as you leant back on your elbows, drawing the soles of your feet onto the bed. He let his eyes run over the lines of your body, the flex of your thighs, the plump sweetness of your curves. She will be the death of me, he thought as he inhaled a staggered breath. No, he pondered after a beat, lowering to place his palms on either side of your shoulders. She is the beginning.

His fingers trembled as he placed one hand over your heart, eyes never leaving yours. “Do you trust me?” he murmured, barely audible. You frowned, glancing to where his fingers lay. “Always,” you whispered. The skin beneath his touch glowed green as Loki’s eyes fluttered shut. He opened them tentatively, softening. “The bond of my protection,” he explained bashfully, “now, if ever you need me, I will be with you.”

His heart dropped as your face scrunched, cupping his jaw. “You were always with me,” you said softly, straining upwards to place a gentle kiss on his parted lips. And in that moment, Loki knew. He worked his mouth across the curve of your cheekbone, wordless sounds of adoration soaking every step. “Lie back,” he whispered hot in your ear. His stomach flipped, realising as you reclined against the furs that he hadn’t been this nervous since the very first time. Or perhaps, even then. The god watched your eyes widen with excitement as he nudged your legs further apart with his knees. With aching intensity, he mapped each spark in your eyes as he dragged his cock along your soaking slit from root to tip. It nudged, gently.

“Loki," you gasped quietly, arching your back in frustration. He smiled, trying to remain serious. “What, my love?” he heard himself tease, inhaling against your neck with a shameless moan. Like pollen on a breeze, he felt your words soak through his skin. Through his soul. I need you. And, Loki thought, she means it.

He wondered if anyone else ever truly had.

The god raised his head, cursing the dark curls which fell forward from his braids against your face, obscuring the view. Your fingers combed past his shoulders, pushing the veil back. “There you are,” you whispered with a smile. He felt himself nod once, stare boring into your own. You nodded back, squeezing your knees against his trunk in encouragement.

Gasps filled the space between you as he eased the heavy tip of his manhood inside your channel. Inside the very essence of you that he had longed for. Every inch was a simmering feast of pleasure, the denial of centuries building to a single, strangled gasp of your name. Loki felt his brows slant, the sight of you beneath him almost more than he could bear. Careless lust rose in waves, firing through his bloodstream as he filled you to the hilt. Careful, he chided himself. Slowly. Every inch of your pussy was perfection, as he knew it would be. Every vein and ridge of his cock dragged tight against your flawless heat. A man could lose himself for eternity inside this pleasure if he wasn’t careful, each pull of your tight slippery cunt against his foreskin making him ascend. And not just a man, he thought through the drunken haze, a god. He choked with a rasping groan, letting his head fall into the curve of your neck. Loki began to pant as words of devotion licked the air like flames, your fingers trailing over the weaving curves of his ceremonial braids. “Don’t hold back,” you whispered wet in his ear, “not tonight.” Loki pulled his head back, a strand of saliva dangling from his lip as his brow furrowed. There was a new light in your eyes, something dark and hungry. Something familiar. Something him.

He tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowed. “Wife,” he gasped through breathy pants and shallow thrusts, “are you asking me to-” “-fill me,” you groaned, an impish smile tugging your dimples, "heirs, remember?" Loki’s eyes rolled back as you bucked your hips up, thudding your pelvic bones together. The snug warmth of your pussy was unbearable.

The prince remembered the way you had come undone beneath his mouth earlier this evening in the palace baths. The way that your fresh cum had flooded his outstretched tongue. He felt his thighs tense. His balls, tight. “My love, I-” he gasped, feeling you tug a clutch of his hair. Loki hissed, his jaw set. “I’m trying to be romantic,” he spat, yanking his head away like a child. He stared down with fiery determination, the flash in his eyes punctuated with a punishing thrust of his hips. You moaned approvingly below him, a teasing grin stretching across your face. Loki’s heart melted. My wife, he thought lovingly; before slamming his cock deeper with a squelch. He felt the scratch of your fingernails over thick shoulder muscle, the tightening of your thighs making him judder. “We have our whole lives for romance, Loki,” you cooed, the syllables staggered between each slap of his hips, “tonight I...uhhh- just want you to f-fuck me, f-finally.”

The god released the growl that had been marinating in his throat, stretching a hand above your head. He gripped a clutch of furs tight in a fist. “I fucking love you,” he rasped, beginning to roll his hips in targeted, deep thrusts. “I- oh g-god, fucking lo-love you, my p-prince” you whined, catching his mouth in a messy kiss.

Loki pulled away from you, shaking his head with a broken sigh. He could feel the most powerful orgasm he had ever experienced building in his belly, your soft moans sending his soul to new planes. It was perfection, the two of you. Nothing would ever compare. Nothing ever should. “Not your prince-” he grunted, knuckles whitening against the furs as he spun out the feeling as long as it could last. Edging himself. “-husband,” -was the last word Loki heard before climax deafened him.

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defrosted69 · 9 months ago

Text

Ms. Sunshine

(IVE Wonyoung x Male Reader)

The light brightened your surroundings as you were surrounded by hustling people in a familiar mall that you have been many times before yet felt completely fresh to you. You stood there, perplexed as to why you were there in the first place, but your uncertainty seemed to be limited to yourself. But suddenly a hand grabbed yours, dragging you in front of a woman whose hair appeared to be shining from the way it swirled in the air. However, this woman was both unknown and familiar.

There was this strange sense of warmth that developed in your hand, reaching your heart and made you euphoric with remembrance. But before you can confess it, her touch makes you feel protected. You need to ask her who she is.

"Wait hold on. Who are you."

The woman came to a stop in her steps as your pulse rate increased, making you apprehensive. You heard a little chuckle, but it was reverberated as if her voice was five other versions of her own voice. This would make it more difficult for you to recognize her.

"I'm-"

As she said those words, your eyes widen as a bright light illuminated your view unable to see her face as everything suddenly was slowly becoming silent and the light getting brighter and brighter and brighter..

You awaken from a dream in which you were being carried by a girl with her back to you. The girl was beautiful, with long wavy hair and an exquisite elegance about her. Just as you were ready to inquire her name, your alarm goes off, and you awaken with despair. The dream was so realistic and the girl so appealing that it left me feeling empty and homesick. You don't recall the girl's face, but the melancholy stays.

You still recall the girl and how happy she made you feel. You desire to return to the dream and be with her again. But the vision of her face continues to evade you, and you worry losing the joy she gave to your face. You were split between wishing for her and wanting to forget, to move on from the misery of not knowing her. But you know you can't move on without finding closure and putting a face to the girl who haunts you.

Then it hit you. You haven't such a dream of that girl since your 2nd year in College and now it's been 6 years since then. It was weird because that dream was more frequent back in highschool. And during your youth, you would have such crazy delulu moments thinking that was your wife but when it stopped, you also began thinking it was just your mind playing tricks on you.

Then it happened again once during your 2nd year college and it felt real because again, it was the same girl. Despite her not turning her face towards you, that feeling she gives you was very familiar so you know she was that girl again. And although it was a short time, it made you smile.

But now, it only was a reminder how lonely you have become and that there was a void in your heart that will never be filled up with. An empty space they can call it which no matter many bandage you put on it, nothing can hide the scar and bleed it had.

Leaving your apartment with a heavy burden was something you were used to as you grew older but having that dream is something that doubles the weight on your heart and mind. The days of happiness is something you wished to achieve yet even in dreams, you couldn't reach it. It sucks because the end goal for you was to find that happiness and live through it with smile yet so far, no clue where you can find it.

Your gaze shifted upward as you approached someone familiar, and the small boy grinned gleefully as it disengaged itself from holding its father and dashed at you with a brilliant smile full of excitement and enthusiasm.

"Uncle Y/N!!"

"Wassup little man."

You kneeled down on to meet him as you embrace the little boy in your arms. If there's something that would bring a smile on your face is this little guy right here who's always so energetic and full of energy. Something that you wish you had when it comes to handling the day.

"It's his first day at school ever so he's very excited."

A deep voice spoke as you looked at your brother who had a proud smile plastered on his face. Just like his son, both had the same shining smile that illuminates the surrounding. Though it's kinda funny how you are his little brother because unlike him, your dashing smile was nowhere to be seen at all.

"I can tell. Though you sure he won't cross-rhodes anyone?"

"Haha very funny Y/N. You know I keep him away from watching those for now."

"So you're telling me when he's in 1st grade, he can do that someone?"

"Possibly yeah."

You two shared a moment to laugh. Despite not having the same shine as his smile, the humor between brothers is still there to linger and to look forward too. But aside from the jokes and humor, He was still your brother for a reason.

"Hey."

"What?"

"I know your struggling right now but just you know, I'm here for you, as your brother and family. You know that right?"

He patted your shoulder giving it a small squeeze assuring you that he will always have your back. A small smile appeared on your face because Cody has always been the guy to keeps on picking you up whenever you were at your lowest point. No matter how deep you keep on getting into, Cody was there ready to pick you up.

"I know. I know. Thanks but I can handle this. It's just a slight case of sadness and emptiness. I had worse case than this."

"I know, just…I'm here to listen okay? You don't have to think to much and carry everything on your back okay?"

You sighed softly and nodded your head at him assuring him you'll be alright. Dark battle with yourself is a very hard battle especially if your all alone so having an assurance with him is a good thing.

"Alright, We'll be going then. Say bye to Dad and mom now little dude."

"Bye bye Dad, Bye bye Mom"

He waved his small hands at his parents who smiled and waved back at him. Your brother Cody nodded at you signaling that your now responsible of his child. You nodded back as you held the little boys hand and walked towards his nursery school. Despite having a troubled life right now, your love and caring nature to your nephew was undeniable because you have been his friend and uncle since his birth. You have never missed a single event in his life and today marks another story for him with you.

"You nervous Little man?"

"No. I'm excited Uncle Y/N. Dad told me I'll make friends like you."

"But they aren't gonna be dashing unlike me"

"Uncle.. You and your lame jokes again."

"Come on, I'm dashing and you know that right?"

You poked his nose making him scrunch his nose cutely as you let out a laughter. It was always a fun thing to do when it comes to teasing and joking around with him. But it's also way that you care about him as you don't want him to suffer the same sadness your suffering because after all, kids deserve to have fun.

The walk to his preschool wasn't that much long from your brother's house as you keep on teasing him and joking around him making sure he doesn't get nervous on his first day. Because despite showing that the little boy could be an extroverted person in the future, there's a slight chance he might feel out of place with the rest of the kids and you don't want him to suffer what you did.

Upon reaching the school gate, you notice a lof of kids already enjoying themselves as you see your nephews eyes starting to shift slightly meaning he's nervous. You gave his head small pat and smile.

"Don't be nervous okay?"

"I-I'm not nervous."

"Your ugly face say so."

"I'm not ugly. You meanie…"

You chuckled as you lead him to his classroom where there were a few kids along with their parents trying to keep their kid stop from crying. Of course you understand this since perhaps they aren't used to being sent away from their parents. You guided him to his seat and gave him a packed of chocolate drink.

"Here, drink this so you'll have many friends. Remember what I Always tell you right?"

"Yes Uncle. Never be rude and always be friendly. I remember it well uncle."

You smiled as you gave his hair a good small ruffle just because. You Looked at him one last time before leaving the classroom as you have 2 more hours before you pick him from school. So you would usually just stroll around the city clearing your mind during those times and as you were trying to think of a spot to sit at the park, a female teacher seems to be clumsy on her first day as her papers was on the floor scattered. And what's intriguing is how people didn't even tried to help the poor woman.

You sighed as you saw an image of yourself in her. So without thinking twice you picked up her papers S you neatly arranged them and handed it to her. You were quite suprised to see her almost in tears which caught you off guard in some degree. But you quickly recovered and helped her up as well. But what surprised you is how tall she was. You were on her chest level and you were 6 foot 3 inches.

"Thank you… Thank you…"

She seems to be closing to breaking down and you thought that students would be the only one who were crying on their first day, apparently teachers too. You pulled out your handkerchief as you let her wipe her tears away.

"Your welcome. But please try not to cry infront of kids. They deserve to be happy not sad okay Miss?"

"Yeah.. Sorry, your right. Thank you."

You nodded your head and walked away as your mind once again returned to finding a spot to think and relax your mind away from the sadness your feeling deep inside. You forgot one thing though and it was something that will forever change your life for the better. As Wonyoung watches you leave, she takes the courage to her first class ready to make children laugh and learn.

"I'll return your handkerchief later on.. Thank you stranger."

The walk to the park wasn't anything special at all because it was close to your nephew's school and you preety much had a clear path towards it. No need to detour around. Sitting on a wooden bench admiring the scenery infront of you put a small hint of sadness in your mind.

You managed to look back how your life has turned out compared to your brothers and sister was something you hated to hear. Having a history of successful story within your family name and ending up being the black sheep and failure of the family was the perfect description to be given to you.

You chuckled realizing and recalling how many mistakes you have done leading to your situation. The constant memory of dissapointment from yourself and from your family was always a reminder for you that there was no fixing your situation. You'll forever be an asterisk.

Everyone has left you except your brother Cody who still believed and trust you that you can stir that ship back to its path but you know deep down, that the ship, is slowly sinking to the deep ocean ready to be forgotten.

Your sadness has come so bad that you were given prescriptions just to be able to sleep at night and mute the voice that speak to you every night. Yet they cost a lot and a rope was more cheaper and easy to handle. But that last bit of hope was your nephew.

Just as you were about to let go, your brother Cody reached out to you, saw past your mistake, and still saw you as his brother. He made the world around you brighter and more fun to some extent, but the light that kept you going was seeing your nephew smile and be happy. Because you know how much weight he will bear as the only individual with the last name Rhodes. The duty and expectations of him will come in the future, but for now all you want from him is to have fun and enjoy his youth, which you have lost.

Being pushed down and having high expectations placed on you at such a young age was the chain that bound your legs as you grew older. And the objective prize of not disappointing your parents was all you desired never to happen, but alas, Life is harsh, and everything just collapsed when the fact was that you were never as brilliant or as similar to your brothers.

You weren't the smartest, strongest, witties, nor even the most useful in your family. In your perspective, you were the dead weight of the family and that one accident changed you forever.

Just when you thought you trusted your friends the most, you made the worst error by trusting them too much and falling into the lowest hole of disappointment. You remember it like it was yesterday. It was a beautiful afternoon, and you were just going home when your buddies invited you to a brief hangout session by the beach. Nothing unusual appears to be happening right now. You and your pals usually spend out at the beach, but today was different.

Once arriving there, you saw some of your female classmate there and suprising of at, the girl you liked was there as well which already confused you and made you nervous. Usually it was just you and your friends but perhaps today was the day they will help you get her.

Boy you were so wrong.

They then began bringing out booze, which surprised you because none of your pals were alcoholics, but the fact that they were attracting the attention of your female classmates indicated that they were up to something unpleasant. So you cautioned one of your buddies not to get too intoxicated, but they ignored your advice and continued drinking as if they were grownups. They were boisterous and crazy, which naturally attracted the attention of the authorities.

They approached so quickly that none of you were able to respond, but when they inquired who brought out the booze, they all pointed to you. And the first person to point at you was your first buddy since elementary school, and the fact that he did so astonished and frozen you.

"It was his sir. We were trying to stop him but he continued because he said that he won't get into trouble because he's a Rhodes so we trusted him. But he's just an immature prick"

The words he spoke cut your heart a million times, and the fact that everyone backed him made your heart break piece by piece. And, worst of all, the girl you'd idolized for so long pointed at you with the words that still haunt you now.

"You're a sick guy. I hate you Y/N"

And just like that, everyone loathed and turned against you. You became your school's biggest humiliation and were kicked out because the principal wanted to keep his face and the school's reputation clean. Hell was inflicted upon you at school, and worst of all, at your home. Having your name tainted creates a negative picture for them, and you felt your elder brother, Dustin, rage boiling up as he beat you up with the purpose to murder you. If Cody hadn't fought back for you, you would have died at the hands of your brother.

But what's worse than your brother's punches was the look of dissapointment from your mother and sister who looked away from you avoiding your eyes. It was then you realize, you were never loved by anyone in the family as you ran away from that house hold never to be seen again.

You suffered alone and that has always been the case with you. Nothing goes right for you and it was only appropriate that your picture was gone from the family picture because after all, who needs a useless person like you. Your friends stabbed you in the back, the eldest brother wants to kill you, and your own mother and sister didn't even try to help you. Nobody loved you from the start.

But your brother cody, He was different. The moment you left house, was also the time he left for college but he looked you first in the city. You tried to push him away but he didn't shove or pushed back. He opened his arms at you waiting for you to reach up to him as he never closed the door for you. You continued to make more mistake in life yet when you realize that Cody was willing to accept you, you reached out to him and he helped you.

Although it had been a few years since you last saw him, his grin had not changed, and what surprised you was that he was carrying his son, who at first appeared afraid to see you, which was reasonable. Given your situation, it was understandable for a child to be wary of you. But when you were left together, he handed you his toy, and you played with it, and your nice uncle responsibilities began from there.

A warm grin spread across your face as you remembered how his son welcomed you, just as Cody accepted you despite your flaws and mistakes. Your phone alerted you that the two-hour period had finished and it was time to pick up your nephew. You stood up from the bench, groaning slightly, and headed back to the school, where many parents were waiting for their children. Knowing your nephew would rather stay in his classroom than go even though it was dismissal time, you went to his classroom and found him painting while talking to his instructor, who looked at you in surprise.

"You're that guy from-"

"Uncle!!"

Your nephew crashed into you causing you to kneel down and hug him back as his warm embrace always keep a smile on your face. Once you pulled away from him you stroke his hair and smiling proudly of him.

"You didn't give your teacher a headache did you?"

"No Uncle."

"That's good to hear."

You stood up and looked at Wonyoung who gasped and couldn't believe what she was seeing. The man who helped her earlier was a guardian of the kids she's teaching.

"Thanks for being patient with my nephew miss."

"Ah-no it's okay. Ah, Right Your handkerchief."

Wonyoung went to grab a box from her bag and handed it to you which widen your eyes upon seeing the brand of the box. You immediately reject it feeling overwhelmed for just a simple handkerchief.

"Ah No need Miss, I don't need that expensive handkerchief."

"Ah not a fan of Luis Vuitton? Hmm.. Ah I think I have a prada brand on my bag"

"No no please. It's fine Miss, it's not that big of deal."

"But it is for me. You reminded me of what my role is to the kids. You cleared my overwhelming thoughts. So this is nothing to me."

Wonyoung smiled sweetly at you and you just sighed knowing that people like her are the one who's persistents are off the roof. They would chase the impossible for you because they said so. But you still can't accept such expensive gifts from her.

"I understand but I can't accept it. Instead of giving me something expensive, just please continue being patient with this little kid over here?"

You pocked the cheeks of your nephew who smiled and giggled upon contact with your finger as Wonyoung felt her heart melt seeing how adorable your relationship with your nephew looked like.

"Okay. Okay you win. I'll take care of Little Rhodes right here. Hehe~ but may I know your name?"

"Y/N Rhodes"

"Wonyoung. Jang Wonyoung."

The two of you shaked each other's hand and what you didn't know that at this time, your fortune and dark days will be filled with days full of…her.

As the days passed, you and Wonyoung began to get to know each other better through your nephew, who appears to purposefully stay in class to be picked up by you, which causes you to chat with Wonyoung more frequently. Although you were a reserved person in general, Wonyoung was able to burst your bubble of protection without damaging you or even touching on a difficult subject.

Talking to Wonyoung seems so peaceful and tranquil, and despite your lack of faith in others, Wonyoung might be someone you can trust. Your nephew smelled what was cooking in front of him and wanted to hook you up with her. Yes, your own nephew set you up for a brief lunch with Wonyoung, who gladly agreed. You, on the other hand, began to panic since you weren't sure what to dress, let alone what to do.

You've never had lunch with a girl before, and the experience of having lunch with someone you know seems so distant. Despite feeling overwhelmed, you pushed through since you didn't want to disappoint her. But you also have to know that she invited you to a beautiful restaurant, which blew your head.

You were starting to piece together that Jang Wonyoung isn't just an ordinary teacher but perhaps someone more powerful and richer that you could ever reach. But nonetheless, you admired your look which was preety decent. It wasn't luxurious looking but it makes you comfortable as you wore an orange shirt, blue denim jeans and white shoes. That was your natural clothes so you went to the place.

And even before entering the place, outside of the restaurant felt like it was made for billionaires and Millionaires and someone like you who only has a few dollars and cent on your pocket don't deserve to be their. You were anxious but taking a deep breath, you stepped towards the guy outside with a clip board.

"Welcome to L'amour Le Cour. Do you have reservations?"

"Umm a table for Ms. Jang-"

"Y/N?"

You stopped in place as an eerie sensation ran down your spine and your hand began to shake uncontrollably. The awful memories began to flood your head as you took a deep breath before turning your back and seeing the ones who made hell possible for you. It was quite suitable to watch your first friend and the person you used to admire holding hands since they looked so beautiful and sophisticated in comparison to you, who appeared so drab and basic.

He laughed unable to believe you were standing outside an luxurious restaurant as the girl looked at you with disgust as if you were the filthiest man on earth.

"Oh man, I didn't expect to see you here. Why are you even here? You don't belong here drunkard."

His unpleasant smirk caused you to clench your fist in rage, but you must remain calm or nothing positive will come of this. The only right thing to do now was to walk away, since individuals like them would only bring you horrible memories. So, without responding him, you moved past him, but you were forced to confront him.

"I'm talking to you bastard! Answer me when your nothing but a useless human being-"

SLAP

Wonyoung slapped the man up, standing tall in front of you with a scowl and fire in her eyes, yet despite her flaming gaze, she looked exquisite and gorgeous in her gold dress, almost like a fairy.

"Don't talk bad to my boyfriend you backstabber."

The man bite his lip and was about to Attack Wonyoung with a fist but another fist connected on his face as he landed straight to his car destroying his windshield. Wonyoung smiled seeing her body guard protecting her.

"Thanks Yujin hehe."

"Anything for you Madame."

Wonyoung then began to march to his girlfriend with panic on her eyes as Wonyoung smiled devilishly before standing infront of her clearly towering her which intimidate her.

"You made someone special to me suffer so much so, I'll make sure you two suffer as well hehe~"

The panic and fear on her was evident as she couldn't look at Wonyoung in the eyes yet she was able to ask her a question.

"What..what do you mean?"

"Toodles~"

Wonyoung didn't answer her as she just turned her back allowing her hair to slap the face of the girl as she gave Yujin the command and she smiled brightly at you holding onto your hand.

"A table under my name please."

"Of course Ma'am Jang. Right this way."

The servant then lead you two inside the restaurant as Wonyoung took the lead holding your hand but you were still shocked on what just happened earlier. Everything moved so fast and your brain couldn't process everything yet. As the two of you sat down, it was then you processed everything that just happened.

"Why did you do that Wonyoung?"

Wonyoung looked down in shame as she didn't want to admit the truth with you because she was afraid that you would react differently and destroy the relationship you two had going on.

"I'm sorry Y/N…I didn't mean to do that I just didn't want them looking down on you because of… Your past."

"My past? How did you-"

"Your Nephew told me. Don't get mad at him, please I… If your gonna get mad. Get mad at me because I got curious about you.."

People who meddle with your life are the ones you hate the most and right now, Wonyoung stepped inside the boundary of yours as you felt so dissapointed in her.

"So you used my nephew to know about me?"

"No I didn't. He-"

"Enough Wonyoung. I'm dissapointed in you."

Wonyoung looked down with a huge frown on her face as she was expecting this to happen but what she didn't expect is the pain her heart was experiencing. This was gut wrenching for her and all she wanted to do was help.

"Y/N.."

"Goodbye Wonyoung."

And just like that, you left the restaurant leaving Wonyoung alone as she sighed and let the tears fall from her eyes. Once again, you made a bad decision in your life and perhaps this was the biggest wrong decision you made because unknown to you.

She did all that because she caught feelings for you.

The days of escorting your nephew to school were finished when you told your brother Cody that you would no longer send him to school. Your brother was taken aback at first, but eventually accepted it since he realized something was on your mind at the time. However, your nephew has been affected by this.

He missed you escorting him to school and having little conversations with his teacher, Ms. Wonyoung, since he knows and sees that she likes you. She truly likes you, and he wants you nothing but happiness; after all, hearing your story from his father earned you a special place in his heart.

So a week without you was awful for him, and he'd had enough. He requested his father to bring him to you and complied. When he arrived at your flat, he excitedly hugged you, and you returned the hug. You weren't going to lie, you missed the embraces from him as you allowed him into your apartment as your brother waited in his car.

"Hey little man, you want orange juice? I can make you one."

"It's okay uncle. I just want you back to walking me to school again."

He was direct to the point as you sighed and sat next to him on the couch.

"Uncle has just been busy you know. Sorry."

"Lier. You don't work much uncle."

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh as you were caught by him. Despite his age, he was a very sharp person who gets to understand things.

"Uncle, Ms. Jang is so sad."

Your laughter died hearing her name. You were dissapointed in her yes but you also had a fault for not listening to her but what explanation was left there is? You had enough of trusting people and your heart could only handle much heartbreak.

"Listen you-"

"Ms. Jang likes you a lot uncle. I told her of your past and how of an amazing uncle you are to me. She didn't care about your past because you, caught her heart by what your doing now. And that is being a better person."

You were quiet as you listened to his words. You couldn't believe that a kid was punching your stupid brain with facts and truth and all you could do was just bow your head in shame.

"Uncle, Ms. Jang is a good person. You should apologize to her or talk to her because I don't want to see you or Ms. Jang sad. Uncle, I want you to be happy just like how you made me happy whenever you're with me uncle."

No words got out of your mouth as you know that he wasn't lying. You really messed up shutting Wonyoung down as you need to make things right. With so many wrong decision you have made, you have the biggest opportunity to correct your biggest mistake of your life. You hugged your nephew as he had snapped your head towards the right direction.

As you lead him back to your brother's car, you spoke with cody.

"Hey, he's a good kid."

"I know. Just like you before."

"Yeah. Because of him I realize my mistake and how much of a pussy I am."

Cody laughed whole heartedly as he pat your back but his Pats felt like a proud brother towards you.

"I'm glad you realize that. Well, we better get going now."

"Bye uncle hehe."

You watch as your brothers car drive away and a new sense or resolve fill your heart. Taking deep breath, you began to sprint towards the place where the woman that cared for you was waiting for you.

Wonyoung groaned after finishing the seatwork for the youngsters to do next week. She began to glance around the classroom, and while it felt empty, her heart was the one who felt the most lonely since the guy she loved had abandoned her.

Perhaps the words of her friend was true. Maybe love wasn't really just for her because she failed to give you good impression that she's a woman that can change you and make you feel love.

Hearing stories about your past from your nephew and your brother only made her more like you because you were so strong dealing with this kind of problem. But now all that was gone and-

"Wonyoung."

Wonyoung widen her eyes seeing you catching your breath on the door as she hurriedly went towards you with concern on her eyes. Despite the fact that the words you said to her was painful, she still cares for you.

"Hey are you okay? Did you run?" Wonyoung gripped your cheeks and examined your face as perspiration dripped from your brow. You didn't mind the perspiration since you enjoyed her touch on your cheeks, which felt warm and kind. You grabbed her hand and pulled it from your cheeks, holding her hands tightly and staring into her eyes.

"I'm sorry Wonyoung. I really am sorry for what I said."

Wonyoung shook her head as she understands why you were angry and dissapointed in her.

"No it's my fault for being nossy. I shouldn't have meddle with your life."

"Wonyoung, I don't mind you meddling with my life because.. I want you to be part of my life."

Wonyoung froze in place as her cheeks began to warm up upon hearing the words you just said. Her eyes was starting to get lost in your gaze as she felt so relaxed and loved.

"All my life, I shut people away because I faced trust issues but you, Wonyoung. You broke that bubble of mine and repaired my issue and more importantly, you pieced my shattered heart together. So Wonyoung, Please be a part of my life from now-"

You didn't even finish as Wonyoung hugged you as she buried her face on your chest sniffing your scent as she giggled.

"If it means I can smell this forever then yes. I'll be a part of your life and Heh, can I be that girl of your life?"

Wonyoung raised his gaze to meet yours, revealing a previously hidden grin in your mouth. You nodded because you couldn't let go of the girl in your arms. So you hugged her, and the two of you enjoyed a love embrace that would warm any frigid room.

A few months has passed by and it was your nephew's birthday party as his friends were all present there. Cody and his wife Brandi were all greeting their guest but your nephew was pouting as once again, he was waiting for your arrival.

"Dad. You sure you told Uncle that today is my birthday?"

"Yeah he'll just be a little late."

"You always say that but he never shows up.."

He puffed his cheeks as he looked down dissapointed as for his past birthdays, you have always skipped it because you didn't want to appear in public around your brother's friends because you felt shame. Yet this year it was different.

"Who says I don't show up?"

Your voice made him look up as you stood there with a huge gift for him.

"Uncle!"

He happily rushed towards you hugging you tightly as you returned the hug and ruffled his hair.

"Happy birthday~Hehehe~"

After pulling away from you he noticed someone familair standing next to you. Your nephew's eyes widen in shocked and suprise to see his teacher, Wonyoung give him a gift as well as he couldn't believe his eyes.

"Ms. Jang? What are you doing here?"

"Hey, she's not Ms. Jang. She's your future Aunty so behave yourself."

"WHAT?!"

You and Wonyoung shared a laughter as he couldn't believe the words that came out of your mouth. Wonyoung giggled as she patted his head.

"Call me Aunty Wony okay? Hehehe"

Your nephew grinned and nodded, delighted that you and Wonyoung were finally together. Cody touched your shoulder and smiled at you with pride. Cody was overjoyed to see you finally enjoying moments in your life because he knows you deserve them after all the anguish you went through years ago.

Wonyoung cupped your cheeks as she gave you a quick kiss as you chuckled at her action.

"Was that my morning kiss?"

"Yeah. You didn't kiss me earlier when we woke up so, kiss me too Babe."

"Ugh your so needy Wony."

"Kisss mee pleaseeeeee."

You chuckled because you think it cute and humorous when your girlfriend Wonyoung becomes possessive and needy. It always thrills your heart to see her like this, so you complied and kissed her lips as you two kissed, which was full of love.

After everything that had transpired in the past, Wonyoung was the girl who restored your enjoyment of life and gave you something to look forward to. Having the lady who loves you so much makes the anguish and suffering of the past all worth it because

Wonyoung is worth caring about. .

#kpop fanfic #kpop #fluff #fanfic #ive #jang wonyoung #wonyoung

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ariiadnes · 1 month ago

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ㅤ╭ ⿻ ･ beneath the universe ( part i. )

AT THE END AS AT THE START , & THROUGH ALL THE IN-BETWEENS , I LOVE YOU

-ˋ ♡ ◞ xiao ･ alhaitham ･ shenhe ･ kazuha ･ zhongli. genshin impact. quote cr : amal el-mohtar & max gladstone. repost. each character's parts are limited to 150 words! tagging @pixelcafe-network

❀ ﾟ. ༄ xiao

a yaksha knows what it is like to be needed, redemption sought upon self-sacrifice and approaching insanity. yes, xiao knows the feeling of being needed, but not the feeling of being wanted. mortal trivialities are not meant for intrigue, so he dismisses the thought.

it is when you first speak his name that he wonders -- it is merciless : the shift in gentle tones, the way your hands tremble, anxious at the selfish request. because you truly do not need anything, but there is something in the heart that desires him so.

he makes his presence known, notes how you brighten at the mere sight of him. it is then that he feels his pulse quicken, feels a semblance of home.

yes, xiao knows what it's like to be needed, he thinks, the burden of karmic debt soothed by another's love, and he knows what it is like to be wanted.

❀ ﾟ. ༄ alhaitham

alhaitham does not know of the tenderness that resides in a seemingly dormant heart, endeavors found in all things factual. so it is a strange phenomenon, as said by a certain architect, that he has sworn himself to another, expressed loyalty in ways unseen by most. he does not recognize ardor, not quite -- it is a foreign stranger in his life, but one he is willing to welcome.

"read to me?"

your head rests against his chest, arm draped over his waist. book in hand, he gives you a questioning look-- one you return with an exhausted smile.

"it'll bore you, unless that's how you intend to fall asleep."

"that's okay." you fight back a yawn, giving into fatigue. "i just like listening to your voice."

"you subject yourself to strange things."

"you like it."

he chuckles, but pulls the warm covers over your close figures.

"do i? i wonder."

❀ ﾟ. ༄ shenhe

cursed are those abandoned, innocence tarnished by deceit and insanity. a lone soul bound by red ropes and fate alike, shenhe bores a cold rage ; how it drowns in waves, struggles to stay afloat. but it is not only anger that remains at sea, but joy and sorrow. she was once devoid of such things, though they have bloomed so wonderfully in the knowing of you.

in the knowing of you, shenhe feels a longing that brings uncertainty and comfort. but she is naive to the bonds of mortals, and so she carries it forth without knowing it is love.

she will learn of it, eventually, and it will be beautiful. for now, she takes your hand, presses a kiss against your knuckles, and rests it against a beating heart. how wildly it rings in her ears, and surely she knows that this is the beginning of a future cherished.

❀ ﾟ. ༄ kazuha

kazuha's soul belongs in many places : the sky, the shore, and the sea. how it thrives in the presence of all, but it is with you that it yearns the most. how silly, he thinks, this lovesickness he's given into entirely.

the rain pours upon his arrival, but it is not an unwanted greeting. he watches, nostalgic, a soft melancholy woven into his smile as the kind winds guide brilliant red maple leaves. you stand at his side, your hand in his, feel how he squeezes it in hope and quiet grief.

nature knows his heart all too well, just as you do. you laugh when a leaf lands in his hair, turns his smile into one of amusement as you remove it delicately.

"thank you."

you do not let go of the maple leaf, knowing he will keep it for his travels as remembrance of this moment you share.

❀ ﾟ. ༄ zhongli

it is difficult, morax finds, to survive. even time cannot heal the deepest of wounds, and the burdens of leading humanity have hurt him so. he no longer has nightmares of battles won and lost, but he wonders-- did he ever truly win? to witness bloodshed, to cause bloodshed, knowing he lost his allies--

it is difficult, zhongli thinks, to survive.

the days pass quickly; even in a life freed from loosened chains of godhood, he wonders if he will ever adapt. from amber to embers, he closes his eyes, the music a welcome distraction as he focuses on the feeling of your body against his. you sway together, movements slow as you surrender to the depths of time.

yes, it is difficult to survive. but perhaps in this brave new world, he muses, resting his forehead against yours, he will remember once more what it means to live again.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #alhaitham x reader #kazuha x reader #zhongli x reader #shenhe x reader #-ˋ ♡ ◞ : fic #-ˋ ♡ ◞ : genshin impact #-ˋ ♡ ◞ : banner cr @ v6que

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zhongrin · 1 year ago

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the art of breathing normally

— or, the ways you make him breathless so effortlessly

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, childe, diluc, al haitham, wanderer, kaveh, kaeya

◇ tags ◇ fluff, angst, comfort, spoiler/hint of al haitham's character story 5

◇ a/n ◇ yes the title is taken from that one chapter title in “for better or worse” webtoon hehe i love dillon and cedric so much they’re cute

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

zhongli finds it hard to breathe (in a good way) when you wrap yourself around him in one way or another. you can drape your arms around his waist, nuzzle yourself against his side, or even jump up to koala-hug him (although he will still scold you lightly as he drops everything in his arms in favor to support you - he just doesn’t want you to get hurt.)

but his favorite has to be when you lace your fingers between his own (preferably gloveless) ones, before tightly squeezing, a pressure not enough to hurt but strong enough to leave tingles upon his skin, making the geo markings along his arms pulse and blink in happiness.

he just loves to be reminded and reassured that you’re here. you’re right here in front of him and you are here to stay. you’re here for him with your tender love and warm smile. and you’ll always be here, etched permanently in his heart, the most unyielding stone eroded in remembrance of your beautiful soul.

it was a spontaneous decision on your part when you slip into bed with al haitham and offered to read his book for him out loud instead tonight. he ponders over it for a bit and decides to relent, wanting to know what is it that made you so hooked on hearing him read his books audibly on normal days. your voice fills his senses as he settles onto his pillow, and his lips tug on the corners as you stumble upon difficult terms you’ve never heard before. he decides to show you mercy by telling you the correct pronunciation, and you thank him before continuing, as cheerful as ever, unashamed of your lack of knowledge - it’s one of the things he adores about you, he thinks. this happens several times, and as he relaxes, your lover found his gaze magnetically straying towards you, examining your features as you read.

al haitham’s lungs seizes momentarily when your words falter as you sensed his stare, a patient smile full of such love and adoration blooming on your expression like the freshest bloom of the padisarahs in the garden. a memory lost to time resurfaces in his mind, and he feels himself reliving the hazy scene behind his closed eyelids. he can’t explain it but it feels familiar and nostalgic, yet it’s also foreign and different. when he feels your hand worriedly caressing the stray tear on his cheek, he could only smiles and thinks to himself -

ah. so this is what a peaceful life feels like.

childe’s breath stutters when you kiss his nose or his eyelids. there’s something so adorable and intimate about those two specific places. like a forgotten childhood memory and the intricate vulnerability of allowing himself to be cherished and loved, to know that you won’t ever harm him despite him having his guard down. surprisingly, ajax doesn’t need a lavish display of love despite his repetitively showy endeavors in telling the whole world that you’re his. he’s already content with your soft giggles and tender touches, hidden behind doors and under the blankets in the cold starless sky of snezhnayan winters.

as the trained warrior that he is, he can last a good few minutes underwater, yet one simple kiss from you effectively diminishes his lung capacity, making him gasp and gulp for air, like a fish out of water. he can run for miles and keep his regular breathing pattern, yet a single notion of your well-being put in harm’s way makes his chest constrict and his breath fall into disarray. you’re the bane of his existence and the deity of salvation in his life.

you steal his breath away and with it, a piece of his cracked heart.

as cliche and boring as it was, kaveh’s breath escapes from his lungs whenever you visibly express yourself near him. he’s an empath to the core and he absolutely adores receiving the waves of your emotions like he’s some sentient radio transceiver who’s so attuned to your channel.

you could smile and he would follow, his chest constricting with incomprehensible joy as he drinks the light of happiness like a withered plant that hasn't seen sunlight in days. he loves to listen to your cheerful voice, like your own devoted transcriber, ready to commit your words and etch them into his soft and overwhelmingly big heart.

you could cry and he would bawl with you while holding you close, his lungs seizing with thorny vines that wrap and threaten to crush them to mush with each pearl of tears falling down the puffiness of your eyes. somehow the sight hits him harder than when the realization of his father not coming back hit him, or that time his mother told him she was going to move to fontaine and remarry - oh, it’s so much worse, because he’s holding his entire world in his arms, and he resonates with your bleeding heart.

kaeya would never admit to it but you would notice that his breath hitches whenever you yank his shirt to kiss him. he can try to deny it all he wants, but he finds your assertiveness hot - there’s just something about having you reaffirming how much you can affect him.

it used to irk him, actually - no one should have so much power over him. his life is already crumbling enough as it is, why would he want someone to shake it all up and potentially make it all crash down? and yet, throughout your relationship, he sees you fix the cracks, changes the rusted nails out, and solidifies his foundation. you’re so patient, your touch firm and gentle, and with each fissure healed he finds himself laughing breathlessly… and he lets go of his inhibitions. you can steal his marred heart away, and take his breaths too while you’re at it.

diluc finds his breathing spectacularly failing when your finger brushes against his nape as you help him tie his hair into a high ponytail. he still does not understand why you prefer this hairstyle, but he understands fully that the lack of air in his voice when you worriedly ask if you’ve tugged on his hair too hard is, in actuality, caused by how he wishes he could spend the rest of his life with you. to be with you, just like this, tranquil mornings full of domesticity and love, a replica of the little bits of memories he remembers of his late parents when they thought he was still asleep.

he’s so in love with you, he burns brighter in your presence, and he doesn’t even care if it uses up all the oxygen in his lungs; for he is sure his love for you is an eternal flame not born from the borrowed power of the gods, but from the deepest part of his heart.

wanderer has no need for these two specific atoms chemically bound to form an oxygen molecule that these weak humans seem to need lest they keel over and asphyxiate. and yet he still feels something compressing itself into an ever-consuming black hole within his hollow chest whenever you touch his white wooden skin with the most tender of touches as if he was something to be cherished. as if he was worthy of your presence. as if he was human. as if you truly love him.

ridiculous, he hisses and slaps your hand away every single time. his throat clogs and his lips purse, his vocal chord failing to enunciate how foolish you are, and the feeling got worse when he sees you merely chuckle at his ‘prickliness’.

you touch him again with the same hands five minutes later, and he struggles to squash the urge to smile.

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sylusmistress · 9 days ago

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Run Kitten... Run

Chapter 4: Muscle Memory

Those four simple words. Yes sir, I understand. Four words that Sylus thought he would never hear again. Yes sir, I understand. All it took was four little words to cause all the puzzle pieces to connect and finally jog his memories about the past lives you’ve lived together.

As if he was having an out of body experience flashes of your sweaty bodies intertwined in the past playing in front of his eyes. Memories of you on your knees begging to taste his essence while he looks upon you with contentment and him hovering over your restrained body pushing you to your physical limits. Everything came flooding back all at once and for a moment Sylus simply just stared at you in silence. But despite him regaining a priceless piece of himself that was temporarily lost in the bottomless sea of heartbreak, he can tell that everything hasn’t clicked for you just yet.

Your lack of remembrance is seen as nothing more than a simple task to Sylus as he begins mentally mapping what must be done to help you remember the love you two once shared together. Besides having questions about your Aether Core, he now has a laundry list of questions about why and how someone like you could become a hunter. In your past life you were as cunning and as ruthless as him and stood by his side as his Queen. To see the love of his life in the position of a goody-two-shoes rookie hunter that is not only bad at her job but also lacks the physical robustness that he now fondly remembers is something he will rectify later.

Refocusing his attention, Sylus lets out a low groan of approval before allowing his black and red energy tendrils to wrap around your wrist and hold you in place as he places calculated kisses along your ear and down your jawline. “Oh, how I’ve missed you, darling.” Compared to the kisses he gave you a few minutes ago, these ones seem to hold a sense of nervousness as if you were a delicate mirage that might vanish if he kisses you too fast or too slow.

Listening to Sylus whisper in a deep sultry voice while expressing his yearning need for you causes your insides to burn with longing. The only men you’ve longed for is your trio back home and in the back of your mind you can feel a small voice yelling at you, but you can’t quite hear what is being said. Currently you are distracted, and you aren’t sure what he means when he claims he missed you and how he’s waited a lifetime to be reunited with you again, but none of that is of concern to you. At the moment, your mind is too frazzled with the need for release and pleasure.

“I searched everywhere for you…” Another kiss is trailed down your throat until Sylus lands on the pulse point in your throat. “I should have known who you were the moment your body reacted to my eye…” He feels his own mind grow heavier with hunger the more his lips connect with your skin and soon the gentle love bites turn more possessive as he sinks lower down your body until his head settles between your quaking thighs.

You are a breathy mess with your chest heaving up and down at a rapid speed and your breast jiggle with each motion. The trail of kisses and saliva Sylus trickled down your body brings no relief to your scorching skin and instead adds to the heightened sensitivity you’ve been experiencing since you entered the bath with the red eyed devil. You feel like you are in limbo between falling and floating and you don’t know which one to reach for. Although it’s only been a few minutes you have been teased to the point where your love juices are effortlessly flowing from your sacred fountain and all Sylus wants to do is drink you until he becomes drunk on your essence. “Fuck… I’ve missed you so much, Kitten. So… So… much…”

The second his long tongue drags against your clenching core you let out a silent scream that gets caught in your throat as you attempt to tug on the tendrils that are tightly holding your wrist above your head. You can feel your inner walls tighten and clench around nothing as you desperately wish you were being filled and stretched to your limit. By being immobilized by Sylus all you can do is graciously take whatever he gives to you like the good girl he knows you to be.

Up and down his skilled wet muscle flicks as it tastes every inch of you while humming in delight. You are just as sweet as he remembers and if he could he would spend an eternity buried between your thighs, allowing your pussy to serve as his only source of nutrients until the end of time. The tightening and unclenching of your abdomen doesn’t go unseen as Sylus wraps his left arm around your stomach to keep you locked in place and uses his right index and middle finger to spread your slick folds open to reveal your glistening pearl. Encasing his lips around the small bud of sensitivity, he begins to steadily twirl his tongue counterclockwise around your clit while simultaneously sucking your bundle of sensitive nerves into his mouth.

Everything about this moment is intoxicating and Sylus wishes he could make this moment last forever but your eagerness to reach your peak causes him to put his plans of sexual torment aside – for now. It has been over a century since he’s last tasted you and had you within his grasp. And since Sylus is a patient man, he understands that it is going to take some time to retrain his kitten back into his perfect little pet. One that understands it is her role in this life and the next to beg, serve, and pleasure him without complaint.

Chuckling darkly the red eyed devil of seduction lifts his head from between your thighs and stares at you with his glowing right eye. When you look into his glowing right eye you can feel your chest tighten and anxiety that a panic attack is about to happen begins to settle in until Sylus nips at your inner thigh to bring your attention back to him. “Focus Kitten. Don’t fight what you feel. Allow the pleasure to consume you…”

Taking a moment, you listen to Sylus’ instructions, tightly closing your eyes and taking a deep breath before hesitantly peeling them back open and looking deep into the fierce red orbs of temptation in front of you. Finally, after mentally going back and forth on what you should allow your body to feel, you decide to finally choose to fall deep into the pit of your desires.

“Such a good girl…” The small praise from Sylus causes you to whine and twist around in his grasp before he retightens his hold on you and continues to devour you. Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his middle finger enter your tight opening and wiggle its way inside until it finds that spot inside of you that drives you wild.

Flicking his calloused finger back and forth in a come-hither motion while alternating between licking and sucking on your now swollen clit you feel your stomach muscles constrict with delight. As a warm sensation begins to spread throughout your body you begin to rock your hips against Sylus’ mouth silently begging him to bring you to completion.

Climbing higher and higher up on the peak of pleasure your silent cries become more audible, and you finally find your voice as you pull and tug on your restraints. Every nerve in your body feels like it’s on fire and ice cold at the same time as sweat begins to form in the crease of your brows. Experiencing an orgasm is nothing new to you, but something about this scene is familiar to you. You can feel just how intense your climax is going to be as Sylus continues to consume your pussy like a hungry beast that hasn’t eaten in years while keeping his gaze on you with that glowing right eye.

“S-S-Sylus… I’m so close…”

Sylus didn’t need to be told that you were seconds away from an orgasm, but the announcement is appreciated as his hums of acknowledgment can be felt through your core. Increasing the speed and intensity of his ministrations he adds his index finger inside of your dripping and convulsing honeypot before holding his breath as he continues to lick and suck your sensitive bundle of nerves. Releasing a loud moan of satisfaction, you toss your head back against the pile of pillows below your head while your shuddering thighs lock him in place. You feel as if you are transcending through different dimensions as your orgasm ripples through your body. From the tip of your toenails to the ends of your hair you can feel the eruption of euphoric pleasure soar through you, and you are glad you made the decision to fall.

Nothing can compare to how you feel right now, or at least that’s what you believe as Sylus laps up the last few droplets of your juices before crawling back up your body and tightly gripping your throat before smothering your mouth with a kiss. You whimper as you taste yourself on his tongue and share in the drunk sweetness of your nectar. While your tongues swirl around in each other’s mouths like this is the last kiss each of you will ever share before the world ends, you feel his neglected member poking at your entrance pleading for entry.

Breaking the kiss, you gaze up at Sylus and attempt to try and catch your breath. Both sets of your lips are swollen and the pupils in your eyes have dilated to the point where only a thin ring of your iris is visible. To Sylus you look almost picture perfect, but there is still one more thing that needs to happen to give you the complete fucked out expression he plans on burning into the back of his mind for all eternity.

With a simple nod of your head, you slowly spread your still trembling thighs open to give Sylus more access to your needy core. Biting down on his bottom lip to contain his groan of approval he grabs the inside of your thighs and roughly presses them down until they are completely flat against the bed, and you are fully exposed to him. Keeping intense eye contact with you Sylus slowly begins sliding his rock-hard shaft inside of your now gummy walls. Inch by inch he fills your aching little hole and can get to the halfway mark before reaching your ‘happy button’.

Grinning roguishly Sylus watches as the moment of realization hits you that not only is he a lot bigger than expected but you are already on the verge of another orgasm and all he’s done is place half of his dick inside of you. “You are being very greedy tonight kitten… Cumming again for me already? I’m only half way inside.”

Taking in how much of an ego boost your sensitivity has given Sylus, you refuse to acknowledge him vocally and try to look away from his knowing expression. But looking away just eggs him on even more as he slams the rest of his length inside of you until your swollen clit brushes against his pelvis. Suddenly you feel like you are seeing stars as your premature orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks.

Despite being in euphoric bliss, you can hear how the sex god hovering over you is silently cursing to himself as your walls convulse around his length. If it wasn’t for his pride, he would join you in climaxing prematurely but being who he is he refuses to finish until he’s brought you to your peak two… or five more times.

It is as if your body is an instrument, and Sylus is a conductor that knows exactly how to play you until you sing him praise. Rocking his hips in a steady motion he lets out a loud sigh as he watches your face twist in pleasure. All the years he spent searching for you and he almost forgot about your existence because of the amount of time that passed between you two. But now that he has you back, he is never letting you go and will do everything in his power to bring your memories back. From now on every day will be spent reminding you how great your life was underneath him as he effortlessly brings you godly pleasure.

Every single day he will remind you why you are his and his alone. Sylus believes that with every pump, lick, thrust, suck, bite, spank, etc. your memories will come back, and he doesn’t mind going through the daily effort. With flashbacks from the past Sylus decides to test out some of his old moves to see if they can still pull the same reactions out of you. If he angles his hips upwards you let out small whimpers. If he angles his hips to the left and focuses on your g-spot you let out loud moans and try to pull against your restraints. And if he angles his hips to dive deep into your walls and press against your cervix your eyes roll to the back of your head, and he must constantly remind you to keep breathing.

“Perfect… and all mine…”

Moaning loud enough to where you are sure anyone in a 50-mile radius can hear you, Sylus releases you from the energy tendrils around your wrist so that you can cling to his neck as he begins to increase the pace of his thrust. He can feel that you are on the verge of another earth-shattering orgasm and wants to feel all your reactions as he brings you to the crest of pleasure once again.

Leaning down to close the distance between your two bodies Sylus tightly wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face into the crook of your love bitten neck before placing your wobbly legs around his waist. “Let go princess… Let go and cum all over my dick… use me… use me like the perfect little slut I know you can be…” Biting down onto your earlobe he continues to whisper husky words of degraded encouragement and revels in how tight you become each time he calls you his ‘slut’.

Between Xavier, Rafayel, and Zayne you’ve never had either of them call you anything outside of respectable pet names and in this lifetime, you’ve never craved being called anything degrading before. But the comforting edginess of Sylus’ tone when he address you as his ‘slut’ does something to the wires in your brain and it doesn’t take long as another deep thrust against your cervix causes you to dig your nails into his back before shuddering like a leaf on a winter day beneath him.

“Such a good girl… you are so good for me kitten... My perfect girl…” The switch between being degraded and words of encouragement makes you feel as if you are losing your mind. Satisfied that you are a perfect overstimulated mess, Sylus begins focusing on his own pleasure and holds your hips tightly to keep you in place as his calculated thrust becomes more feverish and animalistic as he chases his own high.

Reaching down between where you are connected Sylus rubs circles around your swollen clit with determination to bring you to one more orgasm as he reaches the grand finale. His strokes are becoming sloppier by the second and his grunts in your ear sound like heaven while he continues strumming your sensitive pearl. Feeling him slam deeply against your ‘happy button’ a few more times is enough to pull another orgasm out of you and your chest tightens as you arch into his touch.

“FUCKKK!” Both of you moan in unison when you feel his cock begin to twitch and swell inside of you before shooting ropes of hot seed inside of your quivering wet cavern. Finally, after allowing his release to swim inside of, you Sylus crashes his body down on top of yours and relishes in the moment.

A beat of comfortable silence passes between you and Sylus as you both come down from ecstasy. The feeling of his heavy body slumped over your delicate form brings you comfort the weighted blanket would as the aftershocks in your body finally subside and you are able to breathe somewhat normally again.

Reluctantly Sylus pulls his now softened dick from out of you and rolls off you to land on his back besides you while staring up at the ceiling. Again, another beat of silence passes between the two of you and you aren’t sure if you should speak up first or if he should.

Sensing your dilemma Sylus climbs off his bed and enters his bathroom. When he returns, he has a warm towel in his hands and tenderly grasps your thighs before cleaning up the mess he made between them. Once he is satisfied with ensuring that you are clean enough, he looks up at you with those ruby orbs you are starting to become addicted to staring into. “Do you remember who I am?” His voice is deep yet soothing like a warm hug from a long-lost lover.

Gazing back at him you suddenly feel the consequences of your choices come crashing down against you. Immediately your mind thinks of your trio of lovers back home that must be worried sick about you and then you think about what the consequences would be for sleeping with someone you were sent to arrest. Quickly looking away you attempt to scurry from out of Sylus’ bed and put as much distance between the two of you as possible.

Although you didn’t verbally answer his question, Sylus can tell from your now frantic and regretful expression that not only do you not fully remember who he is, but you also feel shame about what just transpired between the two of you. Keeping his face passive and his hurt emotions at bay, he tightly clenches his jaw before walking over to his wardrobe and grabbing a sweater and pair of sweatpants for you to put on before dressing his naked frame in a robe. “Get dressed and get out.”

The sudden cold shoulder Sylus gives you pulls you out of your mini existential crisis and you glare at him like he just committed a crime far worse than being King of the Wanderers. “Excuse me? You don’t get to just kick me out of your room after everything we just did!”

Pulling the sweater over your head and the sweatpants over your bare bottom you stomp over to the mini bar Sylus is now standing next to and defiantly cross your arms over your chest. Technically you did want to leave his room and put some distance between the two of you so you can think clearly and dissect what just transpired but you wanted to leave on your own terms. “Is this how you treat all women? Huh? You just use them to get what you want and toss them when you are finished?”

Apparently, your accusation seemed to cross an invisible line of boundaries as Sylus cuts his eyes to you and swiftly wraps his left hand tightly around your throat before dropping his tone to a menacing growl. “Use you? Is that what you think I did? I would do anything to keep you by my side and yet you have the audacity –… GET OUT!”

Carrying you over to his bedroom door he wastes no time opening it and tossing you (fondly) out of his room before slamming the door in your face. Frowning at his now closed door you are tempted to bust through it and find out what Sylus meant by keeping you by his side or what he meant when he claimed that he ‘missed’ you. Instead of allowing your emotions to take over you remember that you are a hunter that has been sent on a mission and make your way back to his office where your hunter watch is located.

Entering his office you didn’t expect to see Luke and his twin Kieran sitting in the office attempting to look like intimidating guard dogs. Rolling your eyes and ignoring their existence you walk over to the large desk and furrow your brows in confusion when you don’t see your hunter watch sitting there anymore. “Okay, which one of you guys took my watch?”

Kieran tilts his head to the side and if he wasn’t wearing a mask you would be sure he was smirking in a cocky fashion. “Boss gave us strict instructions to keep that device away from you and to keep our eyes on you. No tricks this time.”

Luke perks his head up and straightens his back to make himself seem larger than life. “Yeah! No tricks this time little kitten. Now follow us and we will show you where your bedroom is.”

Squinting your eyes in disbelief you take a step back and place your hands on your hips. “What do you mean you’ve been instructed to keep your eyes on me? Your ‘boss’ said that I can leave here if I want.”

Luke and Kieran exchange a silent look with each other before Luke faces you again and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah… that offer is off the table now that the bossman has an actual interest in you. Sorry little kitten but you aren’t going anywhere.”

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