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dollfacefantasy · 7 months ago

Text

SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL ♡

pairing: homelander x fem!reader

summary: homelander has taken an interest in you, vought's new intern. no matter how you look at it, as a good or bad thing, it ends the same way: him getting what he wants.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, dubcon, p in v, oral (m receiving), body worship, sir kink, obsessive behavior, manipulation/coercion, age gap (reader in early 20s)

wc: 7.7k (oops lol)

a/n: hehe. never thought i would write for this man but it was pretty fun :) comm for my sweet beloved @gor3-hound love you so very much mwah mwah <33

At the junction of the V-shaped table, Homelander sat. With his back to the skyline and his gloved hands folded in front of him, he held the posture of a statue. Ashley had been rambling on and on and fucking on for the past five minutes about shit he couldn't care less about. Her nasally voice bounced off the tile floors and painted ceiling, ricocheting around him like a rogue bullet. Only his impregnable skin didn't protect him from the discomfort of this situation.

It was moments like these that really made him regret killing Stillwell.

That woman knew how to handle things. As manipulative as she could be, at least she wasn't absolutely insufferable. How could Stan let Ashley replace her? She was a poor excuse of just about everything. Absolutely spineless, unintelligent, reactionary, and opportunistic. He really couldn't picture any person on this Earth genuinely liking her.

However in the midst of his mental complaints, he realized that the annoying sound of her speaking was directed at him. All the other stares in the room were zeroed in on him too. A-Train observed in cautious silence. Noir's goggles reflected Homelander's own image right back at him. Maeve judged with a sideways glance. And Starlight prepared for the worst.

He tore his own bright blue eyes from the door opposite the table and refocused them on Ashley. They scanned over her thinning ginger locks down to her gaudy outfit - a piss poor attempt at imitating power.

"What?" he asked, his voice cutting through the air with a force similar to one of Maeve's swords.

Ashley blinked in return. Fear swirled in her wide eyes. She tried to maintain that empowered appearance she so desperately wished was real, but he could see the innate urge to cower bubbling within her.

"Was that lineup for the funeral ok with you, Homelander? A-Train and Noir open, Starlight sings, and then you close?" she repeated.

Now it was his turn to blink. Like he could actually give a shit about the order of segments for Translucent's funeral. He swallowed hard. While she projected a mirage of power, he had to do the same with level-headedness.

"That's fine, Ashley. Have those two go first, and Starlight can follow up with Amazing Grace or whatever shitty hymns they teach in that hick town she's from, and then I can finish us out," he responded.

He could see how her knuckles were going white around the edge of her clipboard. She gripped it for comfort, as if that could save her from his potential wrath. It only irritated him more. If he wanted her dead, he would turn her to ashes where she stood. How hard she braced herself in advance wouldn't matter in the slightest. But people could be so foolish in moments of terror.

"Well speaking of that," she said before clearing her throat, an attempt at a natural transition, "We were trying to decide what song she would sing. Maybe one of our originals? Or do you think it would be more tasteful to go with something from an outside source?"

Gritting his teeth, he buried the urge to unleash the bright beams of red from his sockets. His hands slid off one another and pressed down onto the cool table.

"Do you really need me to decide what song is going to send Translucent to the grave?" he replied, "I don't care what you play, and no one else attending will either. They'll be focused on working up some tears for the useless dipshit they never had the displeasure of knowing. Instead of trying to gain their approval, we should be working on finding the next member of the Seven who can replace him. There's no use dwelling on the past. We need to be preparing for the future."

He paused to let his words permeate the room, giving everyone a chance to absorb the sentiment and adapt accordingly. With his pupils still trained on Ashley, he planned on continuing his tirade, but his train of thought came to an abrupt halt.

Soft pitter-patters of footsteps clacked down the hall outside this room. They sounded in a delicate rhythm, only audible to him. As they grew louder, he caught the scent of the source too. Airy and light. A stark contrast to the brash perfume Ashley doused herself in.

The doors at the front of the room slid apart to reveal you.

You stood there for a moment. The realization that you'd interrupted something was visible in your eyes. The small spheres cast down as you wobbled in like a fawn that sensed wolves watching from nearby.

Ashley turned to face you, a glower already set on her features. The resentment she held for everyone else in this building awoke from its usual dormant slumber because there was finally someone weaker she could take it out on.

Once you reached her, your hand rose and gave her a thin stack of papers.

"I'm sorry for interrupting. It's a memo from 82. They made it sound urgent," you explained, everything about your temperament meek and timid.

After a brief pause to let you marinate in the few moments before your inevitable humiliation, she snatched the papers from you. Her eyes roamed over the page with disinterest. Even if the information conveyed by the small black letters was important, he doubted she would give it any reaction. She wanted to lash out, and she was going to, whether it was justified or not.

"They couldn't have emailed me this?" she snapped, as if that was something you could control.

"I don't know. I'm sorry. I'll check next time," you offered.

"You better or you'll run out of next times," she threatened, "Incompetence like this won't fly here. You're in the big leagues now, so act like it. Think before you do something instead of taking commands like a lap dog."

"I'm sorry," you replied, ducking your head again.

"Don't be sorry, just do better," she commanded.

"I will," you agreed.

"Good. Just get out of here now. Go pick up my lunch," she told you.

His lips curled into a scowl as he watched the scene play out. It was pathetic - not you, but Ashley. He hated seeing the fucking smirk on her face as you walked away. She had nothing to be smug about. She was nothing more than a feral coyote going after the scraps the other predators didn't take.

To make matters worse, when she returned her attention to the group at the table, she saw the look on his face. She saw the disdain, but instead of striking regret into her, it only deepened her sense of self-satisfaction.

She thought the look was for you. That he was disgusted with your mistake. Annoyed with your intrusion.

He couldn't have that. Not when that assumption was the farthest thing from the truth. Honestly, he didn't know if he was even capable of feeling such ire towards you. Not his precious little fawn.

Rising from his seat, his glare remained on Ashley. She did show a little fear then.

"You know, I don't have all day, Ashley. I'll open Translucent's funeral, Starlight will follow up with a song, and that will be it. A-Train and Noir can have the day off, because let's be honest, nobody will give shit either way," he mocked.

"But, sir-" she said, clearly confused by his sudden impending departure.

"I have more important things to deal with. If you need anything else, I'm sure one of the others can help you," he dismissed.

With that, he stepped back from the table and began heading to the doors. He hoped if he was fast enough he could still catch you. Even in a building as sleek and modern as this one, the elevators could be quite slow.

Walking out into the hall, his head swiveled in the direction you would have gone. For once, his own portrait didn't catch his eye. He didn't even think about stopping by Stillwell's office to reminisce. Instead, he just headed down towards the elevator. His red boots thudded across smooth tile in rapid succession, covering the path you'd just taken.

Finally, after a few feet, he spotted you. Bottom lip pulled between your teeth. Eyes glossy with embarrassment. Tip of your polished shoe tapping against the ground. You startled when his voice boomed across the space, calling out your name. So cute.

You looked at him with fear in your eyes, but disgust didn't fester in the pit of his stomach like it did when others gave him that anxious stare. Another feeling bloomed inside him, one he couldn't really place. It was just that the nervous gleam over your pupils didn't make him hate himself and all the circumstances of his life that put him in his position.

Instead, your wide eyes and pouty lips made him feel strong. You made him feel like a hero. A real one, not the artificial caricature that Vought projected to the world. With you nearby, he felt like the kind of guy who deserved the American flag blowing off his back with a pretty girl cradled in his arms and a dead enemy at his feet. When you gazed up at him, he could only imagine that the pride rushing through his chest and confidence pooling between his hips was the feeling his creators intended for him.

"Did you need something from me, sir?" you asked, reminding him that he actually had to provide a reason to talk to you. Just wanting to stare at you like a psychopath would not suffice unfortunately.

"Oh no," he waved off, "The meeting just finished up. I was heading out too. I saw you, and I realized I haven't really taken the time to get to know you yet, which is unfortunate because I usually like to be familiar with the newer people we have working with us."

A complete lie. Before you, he didn't remember ever giving any of the interns a second glance. They were true nuisances. They were Ashleys.

"Oh... well I'm around whenever you wanna talk. Ashley keeps me busy, but I'm sure I could make an exception for you," you replied.

"You absolutely can make an exception for me," he chuckled, "If Ashley gives you any trouble, just let me know, and I'll make sure she remembers who's really in charge around here."

It wasn't until he heard your heart rate increase that he realized those words probably came off as threatening. Well, they were threatening, but you weren't supposed to see him that way.

"I'm kidding," he forced out with a laugh, "Just joking around like I do... I just don't want you to worry about getting in some kind of trouble for me sniffing around you."

You huffed out an awkward laugh of your own and nodded. "I'll be sure to make some time for you in the future then and let Ashley know it was at your direction."

"Great," he said with probably too much enthusiasm.

His jaw clenched into one of his usual tight smiles. He averted his eyes from you and looked towards the numbers on the elevator. Fuck, it was reaching the bottom. He didn't want to let you go, but it wasn't like he could just stroll down the street with you to go get Ashley's lunch. His mind scrambled to come up with a solution.

But like your earlier intrusion into the meeting, your gentle voice cuts through the hurricane forming in his head.

"Are you alright, sir?" you ask, anxious concern written all over your features.

He refocused on you and nodded. His arm extended out behind you, his palm landing against the elevator wall. As he leaned in, he could smell your adrenaline spiking. He could hear the shift of your shoe against the ground. If only he possessed a sixth sense for the mind, so he could know what little thoughts about him were flitting through your head.

"I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me," he answered. He smiled down at you, observing the slight nod you gave him in return.

"Of course not. It probably seems silly coming from me," you said.

His brows raised in amusement. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

He saw the flash of regret in your eyes. The one people always gave him when he asked a question in that tone. The one that came from the panic of realizing they may have said something that offended Homelander.

You suppressed it pretty well though and brought out a smile that gave the impression that you hoped he was messing with you instead.

"Well you know... because you're you," you said and tilted your head in an innocent way that made his chest ache.

He chuckled that charming, prepackaged laugh that had been trained into him. "Even I can appreciate someone taking an interest in checking on me," he replied.

It was maddening, how bad he wanted you. He wasn't even sure when this craving had sprouted inside him. He had been so preoccupied with his affinity for Stillwell that his fixation with you struck him like a glass window in front of a flying bird. But no matter the timeframe in which it blossomed, it had taken root by now and wasn't going to go away on its own.

When he looked at you like this - staring up at him with earnest fascination - his mind drifted to darker places all on its own. He couldn't stop it if he wanted to (and really, he didn't want to). It's just how was he not supposed to be aware of the fact that it would be all too easy to take you back to his room? How could he not think about what it would feel like to have your fragile body beneath his own in private? How could he not wonder what you'd sound like crying out in a sinful mix of pleasure and pain?

Hell, how was he supposed to pretend like he couldn't just bend you over and fuck you dumb right here in the middle of this elevator if he wanted to? No one would be able to stop him. There wouldn't be a thing they could do other than watch. They could stare in horror as he used you like he deserved, as he pounded into your warm, soft, dripping hole like he needed...

Unfortunately, painting that picture in his head had his blood rushing South. He felt the subtle simmer of desire in his pelvis, and he knew in no time his length would be filling out. This suit gave him no way of hiding it either. Clearly, whoever made it hadn't anticipated the Homelander popping a boner on the job.

But luckily for him, the elevator chimed with its arrival at the bottom floor. He straightened out as you looked ahead in preparation of your departure. But before you could go, he grabbed your arm. His touch was tender, holding the same force he'd use when cradling a baby at a photo-op.

"Maybe later tonight you'd like to take me up on one of those talks? After you're done for the day, you could stop by my place. The sooner the better, right?" he asked.

Your eyes widened ever so slightly, but you still nodded. "Um... sure thing. I'll head up once I've finished all my work. It should be around six if that's ok?" you offered.

"Yeah, that works for me. I'll be waiting," he said in an attempt to be playful.

You smiled once more and then headed out of the elevator. His fingertips dragged down your arm to your wrist as you walked away before you finally slipped from his grasp. He could hear your heart pounding faster than your footsteps as you headed towards the exit of the building.

At six o'clock sharp, a knock sounded through his penthouse. And it only took him a few seconds to swing the door open and greet you.

"There she is," he beamed with exaggerated politeness.

You smiled modestly in return, shrugging and smoothing out a crease in your blouse. "I couldn't let the leader of the seven down," you joked.

He scoffed but opened the door wider, beckoning you into his place. You took the invitation and crossed the threshold. Your eyes glanced around the place, taking note of all the things in the apartment that housed the most powerful man on Earth.

The American flag taking up an entire wall almost stopped you in your tracks. It would've been funny if it was someone else, but because it belonged to him, it stood there like a warning. You tried not to show how daunting you found it. Average people could be touchy about that famous piece of cloth. You didn't want to find out if the strongest supe felt the same through means of offending him.

In place of letting that bother you, you shifted your attention over to all the historical pictures hanging on the walls and the sleek surfaces and drawers filled with things you couldn't begin to imagine. Your eyes casted over the statues accenting the space as well. It was all so very polished. It looked like what you'd expect the Homelander entry in an Ikea catalog to be.

"So what do you think?" he asked. He knew his words came off as stiff. Probably a little stilted sounding. He just couldn't help it. For the first time, he couldn't get a read on how you felt through physical signs alone. And right now, he really really wanted you to like him.

"It's... impressive," you answered.

But he could hear the hesitation in your voice. In each word, there was the same wavering quality to it that you get when Ashley grilled you in front of an audience. It wasn't the precious reverence that he saw in the elevator. The nervous kind of admiration you held for someone above your standing. This was just plain anxiety, and that served no purpose to him.

Despite your trepidation however, you walked forward to the window at the back of the place. You looked out over the city in awe.

"I would love to live somewhere high up like this," you said.

He came up from behind to stand next to you in front of the glass panes. His eyes landed on your face. You stared out the window, wonder twinkling in your eyes. Your voice sounded almost breathless. It was adorable.

"No fear of heights?" he asked.

"Not when it comes to being inside. Maybe I'd be nervous if we were on a balcony or something," you replied.

"Oh come on. You'd have nothing to worry about if you were with me. I'd never let you fall," he said, dropping his voice a few octaves.

You made that cute little face again when those words hit your ears. Your eyes widened before they fell to look at your shoes. So modest, the way you shied away. He wondered if you were always so timid or if it was only when a god amongst men like himself flirted with you.

He chuckled and reached out, tilting your chin back up to look at him. "You don't need to be nervous," he soothed, "There's no safer place to be than with the Homelander, right?"

You nodded right along. His words left no room for objection.

"Good girl," he smirked and dragged a gloved thumb over your cheek. He pulled his hand back and stepped in the direction of the brown leather sectional that sat in the middle of the room.

"Come over here and sit down. We can talk," he directed.

Following him to the large couch, you took your seat near the corner. You assumed he'd sit at the other end or at least towards the middle of the perpendicular cushions, but no. He sat down in the corner with you. His body was at most a foot away.

He continued to smile at you though he didn't speak. It felt odd, sitting there in silence across from him. He wasn't doing anything overtly threatening, yet you still felt at his mercy.

"So, do you like it here so far? Do you feel like you're fitting into the Vought family?" he asked with a bit of an edge to that second word.

You nodded again. A relieved breath seeped from your lungs as the tense void in conversation came to an end. "Yeah, it's nice here. I feel like I'm learning a lot."

He chuckled and leaned back against the stiff backing of the sofa. His muscular arm draped along the top. Though it wasn't his intention to draw your focus there, he caught the way your eyes dragged over his bicep.

"That's good," he said, "It can be a lot when you're new. I wouldn't want you feeling overwhelmed."

"That's nice of you. I appreciate it, but I'm used to a busy schedule," you replied.

"You're freshly graduated, aren't you?" he checked.

"Yeah," you said, your lips quirking upwards at his guess.

"I thought so. You have that cute, wide-eyed, optimistic thing going for you."

A small laugh leaves your lips. "I know. Ashley said I'll grow out of it by the end of this quarter."

His face dropped, and he almost abandoned the prince charming act he was attempting to pull off for you. The mere mention of Ashley was enough to irk him, but the thought that she was trying to change you? Not only change you but jade you. To strip away the soft and sweet qualities that hooked him on you in the first place. It was criminal. He couldn't hide his disdain.

"You shouldn't listen to her," he said. He wasn't angry, but his cadence held intensity. "Ashley's problem is Ashley. To be honest, I don't even know why they gave her an intern. It's not like she'd be good at teaching anything when she still doesn't understand most things about our business herself."

Your fingers dug into the edge of your seat. It wouldn't have been significant in a normal conversation, but when speaking with a man who could hear a pin drop forty stories down, he noticed.

"You're still nervous," he observed.

In an instant, your hands flew to your lap, like you knew what gave your anxiety away. You fidgeted with the hem of your skirt and shrugged.

"A little," you admitted.

"Are you scared of me?" he asked.

You shook your head without even thinking about the question.

"No, it's not that. I swear," you reassured, "It's just that this is a big deal for me. I'm really honored you want to get to know me, and I just want to make a good impression."

"You don't need to worry about that. I wouldn't have invited you here if I didn't have a good impression of you," he said.

You sighed slightly, letting out a bit of tension, but he could still smell that boosted cortisol running through your blood.

"Come here," he ordered, his voice soft but undeniably firm.

"What?" you asked.

A puff of amused air blew from his nostrils. "Come here," he repeated, "Sit closer."

As if you needed the guidance, he patted the space directly beside his hip. He could see the uncertainty in your eyes even after the gesture. The lack of understanding toward his reasoning persisted. Regardless of your skepticism however, you scooted in his direction and ended up where he wanted you.

"That's better," he said.

With careful fingers, he slipped the glove off his right hand. Your eyes locked on it in subtle awe. You'd seen this man on billboards and commercials for years. His face dominated newscasts. His voice broadcast over the radio on a weekly basis. Still, you had never seen such a human part of him. Five fingers and a palm reaching for your own.

They clasped around your hand. His skin was smooth. The gloves preserved them from any marks of experience.

"Did Ashley warn you about me?" he asked, drawing your eyes back to his own.

Your heart thundered, but you couldn't lie. Never had Vought bragged about Homelander being a human lie detector, but in this moment, you felt like that was the case.

"Yes," you responded.

He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "You didn't believe her, did you?" he asked.

You could tell he already knew the answer. He just wanted to hear it.

"Yes," you whispered again.

"What did she tell you?"

It was hard to remember that conversation you'd had a few weeks ago with Ashley. Feeling like you were two seconds away from having lasers beamed through your skull made minute details fuzzy and distant, but you manage to choke a few out anyways.

"She said that you have a very specific vision for the Seven, and that you'll do anything to make your dreams reality. She was just saying you're ambitious. That you care about the greater good," you summarized.

"I have a feeling you're saying it a lot nicer than she did," he teased. He could feel the fear rolling off of you in waves, and in a moment, he would rectify that. But for right now, he didn't mind letting his precious little fawn tremble in terror for a few moments more.

"Yeah, she can be kind of blunt," you said with a shaky laugh.

"That's one word for it," he said.

"She's not gonna get in trouble because of what I said, is she?" you asked.

He couldn't help laughing at that. The sound came out low and throaty. You were just so fucking pure. Worried about protecting someone who wouldn't hesitate for a second to sell you out if it meant she could climb up another rung on the corporate ladder.

His exposed thumb rubbed back and forth over your knuckles. "No. Of course not. We're just talking," he said.

He leaned in closer to you, positioning his mouth in close proximity to your ear. His free hand came up to cup your jaw.

"I appreciate your honesty though. Ashley probably couldn't tell you this, but I appreciate a loyal girl like you," he murmured.

On both your hand and through his glove in contact with your chin, he could feel your skin heat up.

"Oh... thank you, sir," you said.

He chuckled. His fingers squished into the flesh of your cheeks, making your lips puff out as though they were seeking a kiss.

"So polite, but I like that. We need more people here who understand their place," he said.

At this point, the gravity of your circumstances began to settle on you. Your fear had worn off a bit, and you realized what a compromising position he had you in. With one tight squeeze, he could crush every bone in your face.

Out of instinct, you tried pulling back a little. You didn't make it obvious, only attempting to gain a few inches of space.

That was a few inches too many though. He tightened his grip and kept you where he wanted you.

"Ah ah," he tutted, "How many times do I have to tell you that you don't need to be scared? I'm not going to hurt you."

You dropped the resistance right then and there. It wasn't worth pursuing. If he didn't want you getting away, you weren't getting away.

He took a few more seconds to study your face, taking in every minutiae of your expressions. Then, his hands dropped to your waist, and he pulled you into his lap. His thighs were firm against your ass, both rigid in how he carried himself and defined from the pure muscle that made them up.

His hands smoothed up and down your sides, coasting over each crease in your blouse. He massaged your soft tissue with gentle squeezes from the beginning of your bra down to the swell of your hips.

"God, you're beautiful," he muttered, "You fit here like you were made for me."

You vibrated in his grasp. He could feel the way you quivered with the urge to pull away.

"Thank you, s-sir," you stammered, "I really appreciate it but-"

"But nothing," he cut you off.

"But I don't think we should be... doing this," you tried to continue anyway.

"Why not?" he asked. Though his tone made it obvious that no matter what reason you provided, it wouldn't change his mind.

"Because you're like my boss, y'know? And I worked really hard to get my spot here, and I don't want people thinking I slept my way to where I am," you explained, "You're really nice, and I admire you a lot, but it wouldn't be right."

He didn't respond immediately. He paused and let your words hang in the air for a few moments.

"You know," he finally spoke, "I don't think you understand how things work around here. It doesn't matter what anyone else in this building thinks. Only me."

You blinked at him, unsure of how to respond to such an assertion. It didn't matter though. He continued without your input.

"What I do with you, how I feel about you - no one else will know about it unless you tell them. But even if you do and even if they care, there isn't a thing they'll do about it. There's not a thing they can do about it," he continued.

"I still don't think it's a good idea," you maintained.

"Good thing this isn't for you to think about then," he mocked, "You're a fast learner. You'll figure it out soon enough. I am God in this tower. And a god doesn't listen to his subjects. He guides them. He knows best."

One of his hands slid up your tummy and over your chest onto your throat. He cupped your jaw and swiped his thumb back and forth across your bottom lip.

"What did Ashley tell you about me?" he asked.

"That no one gets in your way."

"Good. And she was right. No one gets in my way. Nothing stops me from getting what I want. And I've wanted you for too fucking long not to try you out."

That set of fingers on your chin pulled your face towards his and brought you into a kiss. You froze against his lips. It felt as though all of time stopped. This high up, you couldn't hear the sounds of the city outside the penthouse. No one existed in this moment but you and him.

Unlike you, he melted into the exchange. He sighed against your skin and pulled you flush against his toned body. After a second to let you come to terms with what was happening, he kissed you again. His lips sucked on yours gently, attempting to coax you into returning the affection.

The most he got is you puckering them up ever so slightly.

He pulled away with frustration in his eyes and grabbed your face, jerking you a little to look at him.

"Don't act like you don't want this. I know you do," he said, "You're scared, but you don't need to be. Relax and let yourself enjoy this. It's not everyday that the most powerful man on earth wants to fuck you."

Your eyes blew up like little saucers, but before you could really process the directness of what he'd said, he was kissing you again. This time it wasn't as nerve wracking. You softened up a little and kissed back.

You didn't put much effort into it. Your lips responded like this was a juvenile first date. But he didn't let up. He didn't let you give him anything less than your best. His hands roamed across your body. They groped and fondled your breasts and then migrated South to feel up your ass through your pencil skirt.

Your muscles started to loosen up after a minute or so. You told yourself this wasn't so bad. He was being gentle so far, and for someone with his abilities, you wanted it to stay that way. You brought your hand up to his face and cupped his cheek. With that as leverage, you deepened the kiss.

He groaned as soon as you started to give in. His hands fell to your hips and tugged you so that you were straddling him. He smacked your ass, the sound echoing around his apartment. You could tell he held back. A real spank from Homelander could shatter your hip, but this one barely even stung. Maybe he did like you.

His fingers came up and with a sharp tug, he popped the front of your top loose. The column of buttons sprung free. The strips of cloth fell away to each of your sides, exposing a sliver of your skin. He furthered it by pulling off the garment entirely. His eyes trailed along your bare shoulders to your collar bone before finally landing on your breasts. He gave them a firm squeeze, kneading them through the barrier of your bra.

Meanwhile you rolled your hips down on his lap. Immediately, you felt his bulge that had risen to attention between your thighs. You did it again and then again. Each time you ground yourself against him with more pressure.

He grunted, and his eyes fluttered. His hands returned to your waist and gripped you hard, guiding your movements. He seemed transfixed for a few moments, as if he couldn't decide his next move.

After a few seconds though, he got his momentum back. He yanked you off his lap and flipped over so that you were seated on the couch again.

He rose to his feet before you. There your eyes scanned over his body from his tousled blond hair and his kiss-swollen red lips to his sculpted abdomen and his swelling erection. You reached out to touch him, but he stopped your hand mid-air.

Once your arm was limp on the couch again, he removed his other glove. He dropped it to the floor before bringing his right boot to the spot on the sofa next to you. He unzipped the red shoe and then discarded it like he had with the other item. The other boot followed the same routine.

"I don't let just anyone see me like this," he told you as his fingers began to undo his collar, "You should feel lucky."

Lucky wasn't the word you would use to describe your feelings in this situation. Maybe special. Or distinct. Individual. Either way, you continued to watch. Your eyes glided over his figure as he pulled away the tight blue costume that seemed like a second-skin for how much he wore it.

His defined chest came into view. Your reluctance hadn't vanished all together just yet, but at this point, it was fading fast. Pale hair dusted the muscular expanse and trailed down his stomach to the waistband of the bottoms. The waistband he soon hooked his fingers over and peeled down.

He dropped the scaled navy fabric to the ground before kicking it away, leaving himself in just a small pair of boxers. His hand came down and rubbed the swollen tent at the front while his eyes lingered on you.

"Do you want to touch?" he asked.

You nodded. It wasn't a hard decision. This was still a bad idea. You hadn't changed your mind on that. But at this point, what else was there to do? Defying Homelander wasn't an option for anyone on this planet ever. You were no different.

"Ask," he commanded.

"Please can I touch you?" you said.

"Please what?"

"Please, sir. Can I touch you?"

"Good girl," he praised before nodding, "Go for it."

You reached out, this time successfully. Your palm landed flat on his stomach. You held it there for a moment, just feeling his skin. In a way, it was unreal. To feel that someone propped up on the world's pedestal was flesh and blood like you.

Rubbing up and down, you continued getting a feel for his body. He smirked at your wonder before guiding you up by the elbow.

"Stand up and do it right," he said.

"Sorry."

The word came from your mouth automatically. You brought your other hand up to his chest and felt the muscles in his chest. Everything was so built. You expected that, but it was still odd to feel beneath your fingertips. He felt like a living ken doll. You almost didn't believe if he dropped his boxers there would be a real cock there.

Your hands traced up to his shoulders with precision. They explored down his biceps and forearms. And then finally, you brought your lips into his chest. He sighed and tilted his head back, relishing the feeling.

You kissed all over, swirling your tongue and tracing shapes onto his skin. It was almost entrancing, to be so focused on someone like this. You barely noticed as he turned the two of you and sat himself down on the couch, lowering you to your knees.

You worked your mouth down his abs, licking and kissing the twitching muscles. Your fingernails scraped up his sides and then down onto his thighs. When your lips reached the waistband of his boxers, your eyes glanced up at him.

"Can I take them off, sir?" you asked.

He smirked at the title. Only one word of correction and he'd trained that phrase into you.

"Yes," he answered. It was a simple answer. All that was required for someone so naturally obedient.

You took it in stride, tucking your fingers over the elastic and tearing them down. His hard cock popped up and slapped against his pelvis. You couldn't have been happier about your earlier ken doll theory being proven wrong. The sight of his dick was enough to make you drool. It was better than any work of art out there.

It rested against his body at the perfect length, the perfect girth. The tip flushed beautiful red and pearly white beads of precum smeared at the top. Your fingers wrapped around it and gave it a few strokes, testing the waters.

His hand came down and petted your head. He watched as you studied the appendage, as you experimented with your own touch. It was so fucking cute he thought he might cum right then and there. Fuck, he thought you were sweet every moment he had eyes on you, but right now, you were darling. You were doing as he said. Accepting your place at the feet of a superior being.

"Put it in your mouth," he said from above, "I want you to taste it."

There was no hesitation on your end this time around.

"Yes sir," you responded before leaning forward and wrapping your lips around his cock.

He groaned and let his chest hollow out with a harsh exhale. Your mouth was so warm and wet, nice and snug around his length. He rocked his hips up, pushing it further into your throat. He expected a small gag or sputter, but instead you moaned. You shut your eyes and flattened your tongue against his shaft before beginning to bob your head.

"Fuck," he hissed. His legs tensed up, and he pressed down on your head. That did get a tiny gag out of you. You gripped his hips to stabilize yourself though and stayed in place. Your nose nestled against the darker curls of hair that sat at the base of his cock.

Spit leaked from your mouth and dribbled onto his skin below. He took a few moments to just enjoy the feeling of his dick down your throat. The sight of his sweet, innocent girl choking on his cock. Then he let you pull off and catch your breath.

You took a few deep puffs, letting the spots clear from your vision before you dove back in for more. Your hand stroked the lower part of him your mouth didn't cover in its shallow sucks while your other set of fingers caressed his balls tenderly.

He'd never experienced devotion. As much as it pained him to ever acknowledge, his sexual experiences had been lackluster up until now. There were the times with Maeve, but they always left something to be desired for him. Then there was the time with Stillwell that ended before it really started. In either case, no one had ever put all of themselves into pleasuring him like you were doing right now. It drove him wild. He could feel his sac tightening up, and he knew he had to get you off.

Planting one hand on each side of your head, he tugged you back. You looked up at him with glossy, cock-drunk eyes and saliva-coated lips. He swiped some of the mess away before addressing you.

"You're doing so good for me, but I think you're ready for more, don't you?"

"Yes, sir," you agreed.

"My perfect pet," he crooned and pulled you up onto the couch.

He laid you flat on your back and ripped your skirt and panties off in one go. His eyes drank in the sight of your nude lower half, but he didn't spend much time savoring it. He spread you out, slotting himself against your center.

With a few rocks of his hips, he dragged his length through your wetness. He let the sticky fluid coat his shaft, and then he sunk in. His tip bullied its way into your entrance and the rest of him followed. You whined at the stretch. Your walls clamped around him, eager to accept the intrusion.

"Atta girl," he grunted as he worked himself all the way in.

His hips connected with your ass, but he still bucked them, trying to get more. You yelped at the force. He was already buried inside you. Anymore and his tip would be nudging the entrance to your womb.

Fortunately for you, he pulled his hips back, giving you a short break from feeling so full. It was short lived though. Seconds later he snapped back in. That began the quick rhythm he set into. It was desperate and needy, emotions he'd tried to hide until this point.

You whimpered as your body bobbed with the momentum. His thrusts bounced you back and forth. The sounds of his body smacking against yours filled the room. His fingers dug into your waist hard enough to bruise. You didn't complain about the minor pain though because you could tell he was holding back in every other regard. If a few marks on your side kept you from being pulverized by a super cock, then that was a burden you were willing to carry.

Above you, he starts to pant. His breaths leave him raggedly huffing, sucking down what oxygen he can get in the midst of rutting into you. He tilts his head down at you and gazes at your blissed out face with lidded eyes.

"I could have anyone. Any person on this Earth would be mine if I wanted them to be. But the only one I want is you. Doesn't that feel good?" he breathed.

"Yes!" you cried out. Your back arched up off the couch. "Feels so fucking good, sir."

He leaned into you more, squishing your body into the surface below. Your thighs pressed against your tummy as he bent you.

"Yeah, it does," he grunted, "It's all there is. It's all you need to think about. How you're all mine."

"Mhm," you whined with a lazy nod. You were getting closer to cumming and responding to his words was taking a lower priority in your mind.

"And to think you tried to deny yourself of it," he mocked. He clenched his jaw and slammed into you harder.

You shrieked and clutched his shoulders. In the back of your mind, you hoped his penthouse was sound proofed or at least enough distance from the nearest one. Otherwise you wouldn't have to tell anyone about this incident for it to spread throughout the tower.

"I knew better, didn't I? I knew this is what you needed," he said.

Again, you nodded. You felt the heat in your belly reaching the boiling point.

"Say it," he huffed.

You tried to force it out, but your own hiccuped sob of pleasure cut you off. He didn't give you a break though. He stared down at you with expectation, so you continued.

"You know best- uh, fuck- you know best, sir," you whined.

"Good fucking girl," he growled on top of you.

He was already close from the blowjob you'd given him. Only a few strokes more, and he was ready to explode. He swiveled his hips, angling them upwards to pound into that special spot that would make you see stars and stripes.

You mewled when you came. Your body trembled harder than it did when you were scared. Arousal gushed out of you and coated his skin. He huffed and buried his face in your neck before letting go.

Everything faded into the background as you laid underneath him in the haze that came after the absolute high of pleasure. Now you could feel his heartbeat too. The organ thundered against his chest over and over as he came down.

Minutes later he pulled back. His knuckles caressed down your jawline before he climbed off of you entirely. He sat back on the couch and let out a deep breath. You weren't sure whether you were supposed to pick up your stuff and leave or follow along with him and stay close to his side. There was no real indication of what he wanted in this moment, but he turned to smile at you and huffed out a laugh.

"I think I'll keep you with me more often now. Really show you the ropes of fitting in around here."

You sat up and nodded awkwardly. He leaned toward you, cupping your cheek.

"I'll be a much better teacher than Ashley ever was," he said. His arm snaked around you and pulled you to his chest again. "No more errands or coffee runs. I'll show you things you need. Things that you'll enjoy."

He ran his fingers over your face and kissed your temple. The touches were tender against your skin. They would have been romantic if your mind wasn't racing with what this all meant in terms of your job and the grand scheme of your future.

Looking at him though, he wasn't worried at all. He smiled down at you before whispering once more.

"My sweet little pet. All mine now."

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander x y/n #homelander smut #the boys x you #the boys x reader #the boys smut #ch: homelander 💌

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truphysics · 2 years ago

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Junction Diode

Introduction to Junction Diodes A junction diode, commonly referred to simply as a diode, is a fundamental electronic component used in various circuits. Its primary function is to allow electric current to flow in one direction while blocking the flow in the opposite direction. This makes diodes particularly useful in applications such as rectification, voltage regulation, and signal…

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#Diode #Forward Bias #Index #Junction Diode #n-type #p-type #Reverse Bias

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saiyanprincessswanie · 1 month ago

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Caught in a Tight Space

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader, & Clint in the Vent

Word Count: 725

Summary: Clint gets stuck in a vent above Steve’s room. He hears more than he wants to.

Warnings: Smut, P in V, Clint stuck in a vent.

A/N: Avengers Spring Bingo. @avengers-assemble-bingo and #AASpring. Square: Clint in the vent. Card # AAS 008

A/N 2: Thank you to my beta readers @late-to-the-party-81 & @lfnr-blog-blog-blog, and thank you @late-to-the-party-81 for the header.

Please Read, Reblog, & Comment. It lets me know you like my work. 😊💜

I do NOT consent to translating or reposting my work on any social media platform, app, or third-party site or run through AI. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen.

Clint’s climbing through the vents as usual through the Avengers Compound, trying to get his training in. He was currently distracted by the tower gossip involving you and Steve Rogers. Were you both an item? He crawls right instead of left at a junction and by the time he knows it, the vent has gotten smaller leaving him currently stuck.

“Uh, FRIDAY, can you send word to someone that I’m stuck? I think I took a wrong turn somewhere.”

“Of course, Mr. Barton. Sending message now,” the AI responds.

“Thanks,” he says, before grumbling to himself. “I can’t believe I got myself in this position in the first place. Guess all I can do is wait for someone to arrive.”

Running through the hallways, you and Steve are trying not to get caught on camera together. Quickly, you both enter his bedroom and you jump into his arms, wrapping your legs around his trim waist. Steve easily takes you down onto the bed and you both roll around kissing each other. Clothes are shed and your breathing speeds up as lean fingers trace purposeful patterns over your skin.

“Captain Rogers, I need to inform you about Mr. Barton,” FRIDAY suddenly interrupts but Steve cuts the AI off.

“FRIDAY, please don’t disturb us unless it’s an emergency,” he calls out.

“As you wish, Captain Rogers,” the AI responds in its usual neutral tone and with that the pair of you continue.

“Oh god, Steve,” you say between kisses. “I need you inside of me.”

“Don’t worry, doll. I’ll fuck you and that needy pussy of yours real good into the bed.” Steve and you strip until you’re both naked and he slaps your ass playfully as you get on your hands and knees for him. Steve runs his already hard cock through your wet pussy a few times before he pushes into you easily.

“Fuck,” Steve says, amazed as always at how tight and wet you are for him.

Both of you groan out in pleasure as Steve sets a hard and fast pace. Every thrust inside your pussy has you moaning out his name. His grip on your hips will probably leave bruises in the morning but he doesn’t care – all he wants to do is fuck you into the mattress.

“Call me Captain, sweetheart.” Steve’s voice drops an octave to his commanding Captain voice.

“Fuck me, Captain. You feel so good…”

It’s then that Steve swears he hears Clint’s voice and his pace slows. “Did you hear that?”

Impatient, you push your ass against him and start fucking yourself on his cock. “Hear what? All I hear is us,” you giggle as Steve growls and returns to his punishing pace.

Harder and faster, skin slaps against skin as the room is filled with both your moans and Steve’s grunts. Steve’s trying to focus on you and your pleasure when he hears a ‘help’ and some banging around. He pulls out of you and looks around his room.

“Steve, what are you doing? I thought you were going to fuck me into the bed?” You pout, uncertain as to why he’s stopped.

“I hear someone. I think. In the vents.”

You look around the room and listen but you don’t hear anything. At least, not at first, but then you do – banging coming from the ceiling. You quickly pull on your panties and Steve’s t-shirt, while he pulls his boxer briefs on.

“FRIDAY, what’s the noise coming from the ceiling?” Steve asks the AI.

“As I tried to mention earlier, Mr. Barton is stuck in one of the ventilation vents. He got turned around during one of his training sessions.”

You were looking up at the ceiling and now you knew Clint was up there, you could hear him more, although whatever he was saying still wasn’t clear. “FRIDAY, can you tell us what he’s saying?”

The comms came on in the room and you can hear Clint cussing. “Son of a bitch. I knew you two were up to something for weeks, but I didn’t guess this. Looks like I owe Nat fifty bucks. Now, if you're finally done, can you get me out of here?”

Steve’s face grows pink from embarrassment. “Yeah…let me ummm… get Tony down here so we can get you out.”

Looks like yours and Steve’s secret is out now.

Taglist

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#saiyanprincessswanie #missy writes #caught in a tight space #aaspring #steve rogers #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine

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archivesainz · 1 year ago

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he hit me but felt like a kiss. 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ cs55

. . . Carlos likes to take care of young women like you !

genre: dark carlos, smoking, age gap (10 years), smut, sexual tension, oral (f!receiving), degrading, the use of 'slut' and another’s, penetrative sex (p in v), choking, daddy kink, creampie, cheating (not with carlos x reader) and i can’t think more.

pairing: carlos sainz x reader.

a/n: I think this is a good way to start the account, asks, comments and likes are always welcome. english is NOT my first language, google translate.

I'M SORRY FOR WAITING ALL THIS TIME! I hope you all like it, happy new year!

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━━━━━━━☆━━━

The waves of the beach were calming, you could already see the sun rise and its orange colours appear in the middle of the whitish sky. You did this a few times, when life disappointed you and you had to put up with it; you looked at your cell phone and the time marked '5:55', you laughed remembering the signs about looking at the “angel’s numbers”.

You get up, walking to your house that was not far away and try to enter without making noise, going up to your room and sinking into your bed to sleep a few hours before college.

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━━━━━━━☆━━━━

You met him in a bar, he bought you a drink and you talked. On the dance floor he glued his body to yours and danced until you accepted the invitation to go to his house.

Now you're getting into his fancy and stuck car, and he's taking you home.

His icy hands came into contact with yours hot thigh, a junction of ice and fire, you felt anxious not only to be going to the house of a guy you met an hour ago, but also to the fact that your hand seems to rise more and more. You wanted to, but you wouldn't say, he also wanted and wouldn't say so he decides to start his game, you confess to yourself that choosing a skirt was a good choice, easy access and no winding. But no, he liked to get the most out of you, instigate you until you were begging him to stop, you didn't ask his age but assumed that he was over 20 years old. You laugh to yourself because you're going to fuck an older guy.

"Sorry to ask... how old are you?" You say it in such a soft voice that it makes it squeeze in the car seat.

"Thirty-two... why the question? Don't you like older guys?" He says, sarcastic with his elbow resting on the car door.

10 years. 10 years of difference between you, that's not bad, right?

"I like it, I love learning new things with experienced people."

He smiles on his side, lightly squeezing your thigh and slowly sneaking into your wet core. You sigh strongly, you are sure he heard and must be smiling while you close your eyes strongly the hand that was on your thighs disappears.

"Do you mind?" He says with a cigarette in his hand and a dark look.

You do it with no with your head and hear the noise of the lighter and the smell of the cigarette inhaling your nostrils. While he puts the hand that was the cigarette back on the steering wheel and touches its your core again, it is light and dirty his touches make you want more, want more from him and his body, he was driving you crazy.

You hold the door when he presses his fingers there, you let out a needy sigh and he smiles, you see that he stops the car and can see the dark house with lights that were mostly yellow he gets out of the car like a real rider opens the door for you and holds your hand to get out of the car.

"Welcome, princess." He speaks seriously as he walks with you to the entrance and throws the end of the cigarette in a nearby trash can.

His hands quickly go to your body when you enter his house, the begging and needy lips were filled with kisses with a taste of drink and cigarettes. His beard gently passed through your skin, and gave you shiver more and more as you went up to his room, his eyes did not leave your body, your skin, your curves and your ass.

You smile when he takes you in his lap and gently puts you on the bed, climbing on top of you and occasionally pressing your erection on your dressed pussy, involuntarily your hips push themselves up looking for more and you hear his low laugh.

"In a hurry, Cariño?" He asks, not taking his lips off your neck. "We have all the time in the world."

Carlos can't help it. He loses control, and passes the kisses to your lips again, and then to your still covered breasts. He's really attenuated by you. Your body is hot, and it looked like it was going to explode like a volcano.

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━━━━━━━☆━━━━

He grabbed your neck as if it were fucking nothing for him and saw you widen your eyes even more, your fingers looking for some way to undo that touch that took his breath away. After all, everything was still very young.

"You want to act like a whore as if you know what you're doing... But you don't know, my love, you don't know nothing." - Smiling with mockery he whispered against his little mouth and then went to attack his reddish and swollen lips from so many bites.

You moaned tearfully squeezing yours legs even more against the larger body, feeling the man suck your lip in a hungry and hot way; he was hot. Carlos kissed you as if life depended on that and feeling your mouth trying to accompany him left him on the edge of the abyss. If you were the prize at the end of the abyss he would certainly play headlong. Carlos grunted hoarsely as he sucked your tongue, feeling your taste mixed with the cherry of the gloss and it was to lose the reins, he could not be judged. The man then raised his hands around your waist to yours breasts again, squeezing the small mounds covered by the fabric.

His reaction was to grung soft in the middle of the kiss and squeeze his fingers in Carlos' straight and hydrated hair. You begged for everything that was more sacred that throbbing sensation between his legs would relieve the fastest. Carlos then left your lips with a slight suck on your bottom, listening to yours sly grunt and aiming at your eyes shining together with his pink cheeks.

"Take off these clothes for me, take them off... - He whispered hoarsely, breathing heavily as yours squeezed from your feet covered by your socks to yours thighs.

Promptly you obeyed, with those huge bright eyes so reduced before that man between your legs. You took off your clothes burning in horniness and shyness, he already felt Carlos' property and this feeling was indescribably delicious. You exposed yours sumped tits to him and saw him almost salivate, and like a wolf he advanced. The right arm took her by the waist hard, pulling against her big and stiff body, making you feel all the hot erection inside the social pants. She sighed loudly with the grip and can't help but moan when he started a surreal suction on her skin, sucking as if it were the best candy in the world.

"Oh- my god... Fuck.. So good..."

You begged with your virginal aura so strong, shaking against it while he felt him trim it easily, firmly in one arm only, sucking and sucking on your chest as if it were vital to him and maybe it really was. His whining made him disturbed, crazy, completely out of his mind and could eat you right there. Actually, he couldn't, but he wanted to. Fuck the rest, he would go.

Carlos could be patient after all, he was just tasting as much as he could, making the most of your beautiful naivety and this was like an impulse directly on his hardened and painful cock, there so trapped under tissues.

"My beautiful doll... It's so nice to suck on these beautiful tits of yours..". Whispered between one snap and another with his feedings, where Carlos knew well what to do to leave you at the apex of hypersensitivity.

He smiled like the scoundrel he was and looked at you as he dropped his sore chest in one last suck or almost bite. He removed your lip between your teeth with his thumb and advanced with his tongue in your little mouth, kissing and stimulating you to the almost apex. You felt his sighs and breaths, losing your little head with every rude touch of it.

You was completely lost, Carlos was sure you were dripping, and he could confirm by putting his hand between the fabric of those panties, right in your center feeling your pussy completely hot and totally soaked. Holding on his shoulder, he grunted aiming at the act, yours red cheeks denounced your lack of imminent experience and that was the end of it.

He was so fucking big. You lost your breath with the man's firm hands removing everything that covered your body, dropping it on your feet, feeling exposed and at such a disadvantage when he was fully dressed. Your mouth salivated and your cheeks pinched when he saw the tent formed on Carlos' pants and wondered if it hurt as much as it did.

You took the liberty of touching there, insinuating himself indirectly and even without knowing it squeezed the piece of meat, feeling the hardness and how hot and pulsating his cock could be. She swallowed and aimed at him from that position, smiling naughty and curious watching Carlos return his smile as he kissed your little mouth and grabbed your cheek once again.

"Slut... You're getting well trained. Is this what you want, hm? - The big hand landed on yours and squeezed the cock the way you liked it, while waiting for your answer. "Answer you shameless whore! - Roughly forced the touch on your cheek and saw you whine.

"Yes! Yes...yes... I need to...— you squeezed your legs to each other trying to placate that frustrating situation of your pussy and saw him laugh, laugh in complete debauchery and excitement. Carlos loved to see you as a doll that he could clog with cum, that was the truth.

"Daddy will do whatever you want and will put up with everything like a good girl."

Carlos squeezed his own member in his pants and ordered hoarsely; "On all fours, open it well and lifts up to me."

You didn't want to wait, so you promptly went up on the bed with red cheeks and loapy eyes, swallowing in dry when you were on all fours close to the edge of the bed, opening as you could your little legs, procing your tail well towards him. Your entrances totally exposed and melated. Dripping demonstrated the power of man over your body.

Carlos without wasting any more time, which was all they didn't have, opened his belt and saw you retract only with the noise, leaning on his little hands he guided you to support yours elbows arching your spine as much as possible with the palm of his hand there, opening your little legs as it should be, almost grunting when he saw you so open to him.

"Shhh.. this, that way, daddy will prove it to you first, and you won't keep your sounds for yourself, will you?" He whispered with a false condolence and almost deceived you, because his naivety was such that he came to believe in that asshole. "This beautiful little bitch... That..." He caressed your entire prancing back and saw you sigh nervously, anxious almost biting your own forearm and all he did was smile.

He smiled arrogantly before running his finger between your folds and feeling the humidity. "Shit... so wet for me." He whispered to himself that you almost didn't hear him, and sighed in need by the contact.

Without warning you felt his nose touch your moist mound and his mouth suck your sensitive clit, you moaned loudly and you are sure you felt you smile while sucking you. His tongue made smooth and slow movements, which made you delirious and ask for more.

It was the best pussy he had tasted in his life and he was addicted. Carlos was a rotten man. You no longer knew how to differentiate between your own moisture and his saliva, he was making a mess on you and you love it.

He spent time savoring your taste and widening you with both his fingers, preparing you for his cock. You felt your stomach tighten and the moans get stronger, until the sensations in your core stop.

He smiled scoundrel before fitting his swollen head against your recently deflowered little entrance, squeezing your cute hips he forced himself inside, without mercy he buried every thick and pulsating centimeter, gasping loudly with every tight and resistance that his warm interior gave him.

"Fuck... I'll destroy you and you'll ask for more."

He forced your hips well, at the right angle to destroy you and invade your most intimate corner and watched you growl tearfully, perhaps with hot tears in your little eyes and your hand trying to push him away every inch. The man's big hands wandered from your tense little legs to your waist and the curve was divine, his palm fit almost perfectly.

"That's a lot...! Carlos... Daddy!" - You begged him to practically growl and put everything inside.

It was so big and the position didn't help, but it was perfect for him. You completely felt how he stretched you from the inside.

"Holy shit... how small it is, princess... So tight, mi amor..." And he caught you like a damn dog, clinging to your beautiful little body hit your hips under him, the heavy balls were felt by you and your hand went up to his hair, taking everything out there. "Perfect for me..." kissed your sweaty shoulder.

How would you get away with that? You had no idea, You just wanted to be eaten. Fucked up. Ruined.

Carlos and you could feel his cock hitting directly on your stomach and it was a surreal thing the way it filled you and opened you like that. Stunning. Your bitch moans delivered everything.

"Tell me..." he took your hair off your little face again, even in that position because he had a free pass for his whole body, regardless of how he caught you. "You like to feel my dick here, don't you?" He stocked up and heard you practically scream, covering your mouth in order to control your volume he laughed nicely in your ear, giving you goosebumps. "Speak... Speak that you like it when daddy hits you right here... What's up, bitch..." He forced himself and pressed your limit, watching you cry and stay completely away, dumb, delivered, having to literally hold you.

"I like it..! I like it so much, Daddy!" You begged out of herself, possessed by the absurd pleasure she felt. "Please...!"

Carlos stocked you willingly, with strength and it was nice, the melty noises were possible to be heard every time he buried and came back just to mistreat you again a little more.

"Daddy is giving you what he asked for, princess... relax your pussy, hm?" It was a theater because he loved the tension and every time he drove you crazy and felt you squeeze it all in there; so warm and humid.

"Daddy..! Daddy, please... I feel... I..."

"Daddy.. I... I... my God!" You was coming and couldn't stand it, squirmed all over and squeezed Carlos as if he wanted to expel him from there because you was so sensitive.

The tears slipped and the man held you firmly in place, grunting with the squeeze and whispering a sequence of "shh" in your ear.

"That... that... good girl... beautiful girl... So beautiful... It looks beautiful all the dumb cock like that... it came so tasty, my pretty..." He whispered as he filled the side of your sweaty little face with kisses, red as he loved to see; devastated.

You accelerated breathing and low eyes delivered that she was no longer in this world and that orgasm was overwhelming, her legs were honeyed with her honey and Carlos buried in her place left her with her nerves the flower of her skin. He grunted when he was picked up and malled like a little doll, feeling him more deeply, if possible, leaning his hands somewhere seeking relief from that extravagant feeling of being full; Carlos had sat her on his lap, and her little feet barely touched the floor. She was so small.

"Now it's Daddy's turn." Whispering in the middle of his dirty smiles Carlos made you jump, like a doll.

And he did everything, made her go up and down and her contained whining showed how sensitive she was, tears flowed and her honey also went down the man's throbbing cock, making a mess. He growled in your ear every time he impaled you on his own cock, demonstrating how close he was.

He saw in the mirror her destroyed image and how easy it bounced on the man's lap, soft and fucked. Completely fucked up, both the body and the mind. Her poor mind, all there was in her was him.

He was beautiful, big and strong, the reflection of the mirror showed how beautiful he looked as he pursued his own orgasm, eyes closed or semi-closed, lips between his teeth beautiful and frowning as he growled and growled in his ear and neck. Drops of sweat adorned his face.

Carlos' big and voracious hands ran all over you sensitive body, squeezing where he could and where he couldn't. He stopped on the inside of his thighs and raised them as if it were nothing, now pushing his hip willingly; he would cum.

"Fuck...! Fuck, mi amor..." And then he came, filling you with will and strength, so much shit that he seemed to be keeping it all to yourself, all this time.

He moaned or whimpered, she doesn't know, when you felt the whole heat hitting the cervix of your uterus, filling you in absurd levels; it was absurd. A fucking good feeling.

He smiled as he came down from his height and took a deep breath like someone looking to recover. Carlos raised his hip giving you the whole view of him buried in there and went right there, that was the point.

"See? Do you feel that? That's me. It's my fucking dick all inside you, hard as fuck..." Whispering against your cheek he spread his hand against the beautiful relief that was in your belly and you felt the tears flow in the mountains; that was surreal.

You spasmed like the good sensitive little whore you are, almost melting right there with the vision of that volume inside yourself. How could you stand all that? It was being destroyed little by little and that was exciting. You tipped your head on Carlos' shoulder and stirred dencosa, grunting when she felt too stimulated.

It was all too much, everything in Carlos for you was too much.

You hid your face in the curve of the man's neck, or at least tried, aiming from there at Carlos' ring finger; a fucking ring shone in pure gold.

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━━━━━━━☆━━━━

a/n: As I said, English is NOT my first language so if there is something confused or wrong please tell me!

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 smut #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #im going crazy #smut #i need him #sorry not really sorry #carlos sainz

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lis-likes-fics · 1 year ago

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In the Night Air

Pairings: Oberyn Martell x Reader Word Count: 2.9k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, swearing, outdoor sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie... A/N: Finished this last night. This was originally supposed to be part of my Kinktober event, but I never got to it. So now I'm giving it to you now and I'm excited for you to read it because I've needed this man biblically for like...two years. Thank you!

The night sky twinkles with a billion, billion stars. It's warm and still. The air is sweet with fruit and salty with the sand and sea.

Below you, the land is peaceful. Dorne is both silent with slumber and filled with the sounds of distant music in the air. You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath as a gentle breeze brushes against your skin, blowing your nightgown in its journey.

A pair of hands find their rightful place on your waist. A smile tugs on your lips as they begin to wrap around you until you're surrounded by a set of strong arms holding you tight against a body just as strong. A smiling face nuzzles into the crook of your neck, the nose digging into the flesh and inhaling your scent, followed by a deep sigh. You smell sweet, like Dornish fruits and Dornish wine, like the soft petals of Dornish flowers which bloom in the Dornish sun. You smell like home.

“Does something trouble you, my love?” a sweet voice asks as Oberyn places a kiss underneath your throat and holds you tighter.

You breathe in, shaking your head and moving one hand from the railing of the balcony to cover his large one. “Nothing at all, husband,” you whisper softly, leaning your head closer to him and closing your eyes to enjoy his embrace.

He hums deep in his chest, “Then why do you stare out at the world like it has hurt you?” He kisses the junction of your neck and your shoulder.

“The world doesn't hurt me. Our part of it is at peace,” you say, beginning a gentle rock back and forth to relish in the night air with your deepest love. “The only reason I frown is when my husband is not at my side.”

A large grin spreads over his lips, and he kisses your flesh once more. “Well,” he mumbles, “guess who is now here?”

You smile, “Mm, I wonder.”

A chuckle arises from the both of you, and you turn in his arms to lay your eyes upon the face of your lover. You hold his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks before pulling him in to kiss.

You sigh against his lips, like water to a parched mouth. His hands massage your body, moving along your side, along your back, your front. He leans forward against you, encouraging you against the railing as he aches to deepen your embrace.

His hands reach down to hold the flesh of your ass, gripping it and pulling a moan from your lips. Breaking the kiss, he immediately presses his lips against the corner of your mouth, your cheek, your jaw, down the expanse of your throat. It's as though he'd die if he ever had to stop kissing you for more than half of a moment.

Your arms wrap around his neck, keeping him close and relishing the touch of him. His hand nudges the strap of your dress off your shoulder, letting it fall to give him more skin to kiss. And once the other has fallen, his mouth presses slackly against the exposed skin of your chest.

He hikes your legs up his side, wrapping it around him as he grinds his quickly hardening erection against you.

Between loving sighs, you speak gently. “You realize we are still out in the open?” you question, adoring the feeling of his hard length rubbing against your eager core. “Where everyone can see?”

He smiles, his teeth nipping the skin of your neck. “Let them see,” he says, wrapping his fingers around your dress and pulling it down the length of your body so you stand perfectly bare before him. You chuckle to yourself as the night air kisses your flesh, watching him kneel before you and encourage your leg over his shoulder. “Let them all know who my true paramour is.”

You smile helplessly, pulling him in just a tad bit closer with the heel of your foot against his back. “As you wish, my prince.”

Oberyn’s lips press against your folds, a gentle kiss pressing against your clit. He sticks his tongue out flat and you moan as he drags it up the seam of your pussy, a long hum falling from his lips at the taste of you. Your hips move against him, so eager to feel his tongue licking inside, drunk on the taste of you.

Your lips part as a gentle moan drops from them. He grips your thigh, rubbing his palm up and down the length of it as he suckles gently around your pussy and beckons you toward a sweet release. His nose brushes your clit, filling your need and building it up higher and higher.

“My love,” you sigh, your hips moving against him. He only beckons you closer.

He hums against you as you continue to leak on his tongue. Tilting his head, his lips suck around your clit and aim to lick deeper.

You hold onto the railing tight with one hand, the other tangles in his hair. You shudder as his beard scratches against your skin, smiling at the ripples of pleasure devouring you.

His mouth wraps around your clit as two thick fingers prod at the folds of your pussy. With a steady thrust, he plants them inside of you. Your head leans back, a warm breeze blowing against your skin, soft against the pillow flesh damp with sweat and arousal.

Oberyn looks up at you as you hum softly, his fingers curling deep inside your warmth. “How beautiful you are in the night, my paramour.”

Your teeth graze against your bottom lip, and you look down to see him again. A smile sneaks across your face as you nearly challenge him, “And in the day?”

He takes your challenge with grace, planting a kiss against your clit and smiling deeply. “As radiant as the Dornish sun.”

You would kiss him, but his mouth is otherwise preoccupied, and you wouldn't dare interrupt him while he's eating.

His lips suckle around your clit, and a tinkling warmth begins to sprout from where his mouth touches you. The pleasure seeps into your thighs, spreads within your stomach as you begin to shudder.

Your hips seek him out, your breath is thin in your lungs as you feel the pleasure sparking with the quickening of his tongue. “Oberyn,” you whisper. “Gods, I'm close.”

Deeper, his finger push. The suction of his lips encourages the tightening coil in your belly. He grips the meat of your thigh in his large palm and beckons your release with his lips.

You grip the railing and the dark locks of his hair as the pleasure comes crashing down. His tongue laps against the pulsing of your folds, licking the arousal seeping out of you as you moan, the sensation rumbling from deep in your throat. Praises fall from your lips like the honey from a sap tree.

He kisses the inside of your thighs generously, letting his hands smooth along your legs as your moans die down to a hum. And when your shudders as far and few, he makes his patient way back up to your lips, pulling you into a devouring kiss that turns your heavy breath to quick gasps between lips.

You quickly become drunk on the taste of yourself on his tongue. Letting him bend you back over the railing, you have little to no fear of falling over it. He's got you tight, and he isn't letting you go.

His lips break from yours only to graze the lobe of your ear as he mutters in his deep, smooth voice. “Shall we take this to the bed so that I may fuck you properly, my love?”

Your fingers twirl in the hairs at the back of his neck. “Why do that when you can fuck me properly right here where the gods can witness and the whole of Dorne can know who is yours and who is mine?”

His smile only grows with the words you whisper back to him, a kiss taking his mouth once more and letting it go soon after. “I love you, wife.” His voice is nearly a grumble when he says this.

“Yes?” you smile. “Prove it to me.”

He chuckles darkly, his lips grazing yours as he speaks. “As you wish, my princess.”

He slides his burnt orange robes down his arms, the only thing keeping his body covered until it is a pool of cloth on the floor next to your discarded gown.

In the next moment, he turns you around and bends you over the side of the balcony. You grip it tight as his hands grip your hips, kneading the flesh like a greedy, greedy man. You stifle your moan when his palm collides with the meat of your ass, a sharp smack filling the air and pulling a smile from your kiss-swollen lips.

Oberyn’s hand slides down the length of your thigh, stopping just at the back of your knee as he pulls your leg up to rest on the edge. Again, his finger prods the seam of your cunt, and you hum when he pushes them inside of you. He massages them in and out, curling and stroking his fingers. You're nice and slicked up for him, he'd slide right in.

He removes his fingers, gripping your waist tight in his hold before he's guiding himself at the entrance of your warmth. You feel the smooth, hot head of his cock at your pussy and the anticipation trembles in your thighs. When he pushes inside, you exhale the whole way through as he slowly fills you, bit by bit, to the absolute brim of you.

Seated fully inside, you let out the last of your breath on a whimpering sigh. Your hands are so tight around the balcony’s edge that the skin is stretched taut over your knuckles. Oberyn lets out his own long sigh, pressing his chest against your back and kissing your shoulder with lips and teeth.

“You feel remarkable around my cock,” he breathed, his voice rough with his lust for you. You moan your reply. He begins to pull out, moving at a torturously slow pace before thrusting back in with a shuddered grunt. The delicious stretch of his cock always has you weak at the touch of him.

Your head hangs low as you look among the land you love so dear as the man you love slowly fucks you from behind, his hands holding you close, his lips at your back. His slow, steady pace picks up as you clench around him.

You can feel his grasp wavering, tightening and loosening in an attempt not to hold you too tight and risk hurting you. He thrusts into you a little rougher, wrapping his arm a little further around you to keep you secure as his hips snap into you a little quicker. You let your lips part, your thin breaths coming a little easier as the smallest whimpers escape your mouth.

You reach a hand back, tangling your fingers in his hair and gripping lightly. “Fuck, just like that.”

Encouraged by you, he begins to quicken his pace a bit more. He knows how you like it. Right now, he's teasing. But as his desperation for, not only the friction of your precious pussy, but for the sounds of your wanton pleasure becomes irresistible, he's holding you tight as he begins to properly fuck you, as he'd said before.

He doesn't quite go hard and rough. Oberyn is far more nuanced than that. His thrusts are deep, long strokes that fill and unfill you as to make you moan like a divine melody in the wind. Though his hips are rather quick, he doesn't waste energy in rutting into you like a wild beast. He wants to take his time with you.

His hands caresses the curve of your thigh and the crook of your neck. As he thrusts inside of you, deep, quick strokes that have you clenching around him, have your clit begging to be touched, the pleasure seeps into your mind and makes you dizzy.

“Oberyn,” you whimper. “Gods, that's good.”

He mutters under his breath about how nice and tight you are, about how he could stay here forever, wrapped up in the hot, wet feeling of your cunt. The pleasure builds in your belly like a fire burning in a pit. It spreads through your thighs, your chest, down to the tips of your toes and the tips of your fingers and whispering sweet nothings to the beating heart in your chest.

The breathlessness really begins to catch up with you as you're left moaning, begging for more of him as he continues to thrust. “Please don't stop. You feel so good inside of me, so perfect.”

He's lost in his joined pleasure with you, the heat rising within him as well as he resolves to finally paying your clit the attention it deserves. The pad of his finger presses against your clit, and you're breathless at the feeling of his steady circling. He massages the little bundle, making you moan a little faster and clench a little tighter. The change in desperation encourages his own, his thrusts becoming a little faster and a little shorter.

You curse again, your heavy breaths mingling in the warm air of the seemingly eternal summer of Dorne. Sweat sticks to your skin, makes flesh stick to flesh as it meets in each desperate thrust. You moan his name again, as your own join the gentle grunting and groaning of his own pleasure.

His nuance is waning and his desire is growing under the full moon of the late night. “You see what you do to me, my darling?” he questions, his arms pulling tighter around you. He kisses the crook of your neck again, addicted to the taste of your skin on his tongue. “I am a helpless man in your arms.”

His words have you smiling through the haze of your ecstasy, because he isn't even in your arms and he's still helpless for you. You love him. He is the love of your life, the owner of your heart, your paramour.

You'll be done for any moment. You can feel the rising of your impending release in your belly, nipping at your nerves like a crackling fire. “I'm going to cum,” you hum. “Oberyn, I'm so close.”

He presses his chest against your back and holds you there so that you may never part as he fucks into you—short, quick thrusts filling you up and pressing against that deep spot within you that spasms with every push, causing a shudder to travel the expanse of your being. His breath is shallow, fast in your ear as it mixes with the sounds of your own, accompanied more than occasionally by his deep groans.

“Cum for me, precious girl,” he huffs.

And, as though your body is conditioned to his commands, you did. A gasp pulls at your lungs as the blinding pleasure of your release, mixed with the continuous—and ever-quickening—pumps of his cock, has your thighs trembling and threatening to fail in supporting your weight.

And you're sure you've made certain that the whole of Dorne knows the name of your lover as your moans and your gasps fill the night air. “Oberyn! Fuck, yes!”

And as your praise falls from your lips, Oberyn’s thrusts fall completely out of rhythm as he joins you in your ecstasy. Thrusting his cock inside of you, pressing in as far as he'll go, he shudders as he cums. The warmth of him fills your womb as the girth of him keeps it in. Your name tumbles off the tip of his tongue, worshiping you as a goddess and a queen.

The warm breeze is like an icy chill on your burning skin as the pleasure settles in your veins for as long as you can keep it. Oberyn rests his face in the crook of your neck, kissing your damp skin and rocking gently against you. Taking your leg in his hand, he eases it back down and wraps both his arms tightly around your body to hold against him.

His breath slows as he listens to your own do the same. You lean back against him, seeking more of his warmth. And for a while, you both stay like that until he's turning you around in his arms and pulling you in, chest to chest.

His large hands take your face in his palms, pulling you into a slow, loving embrace. His kiss fills your breast with air and cools your burning skin. He strokes your sides, dipping down low to the bend of your knees and picking you up with nothing but his own strength.

You hold onto him, smiling as you bring your hands to his face and stare into his brown eyes. And when you fall, your body bounces off the bed, and he follows after.

Oberyn’s body presses flat against yours, and you welcome the weight. He kisses you, surrounded in blankets and pillows, and traces the line of your jaw with his fingers. “I love you, my dear paramour,” he whispers against your lips. And you smile, a smile as bright as the Dornish sun he so loves.

“And I love you,” you kiss him. You wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles behind him. “And that's why I'm not quite sure Dorne heard it clearly enough.”

He grins, a large thing carved into his face as he chuckles deeply. “I believe you are right.”

You take his bottom lip between your teeth, letting it go with a gentle smack against his bottom whites and meeting his lips again with your own. Oh, you would never know the end of his love for you.

Pedro Pascal taglist: @watercolorskyy @queermaxwooo @papichulo120627 @kmc1989 @the-nerdy-goddess @minigirl87 @notzammm @motopoppp Ice and Fire taglist: @divinearchangel @alexxavicry @katsukis1wife @kmc1989 @the-nerdy-goddess @urmomsgirlfriend1 @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo Tag yourself here...

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell smut #oberyn martell x reader smut #oberyn martell fanfic #obreyn martell fanfiction #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #female reader

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sapphire-writes · 2 years ago

Text

Ch. 4: Kinder Ghosts

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

summary ~ Staying away from Aemond is harder than you anticipated, especially with a meddling witchy dead ex-wife.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: NSFW/MDNI ~ kissing, grinding, fingering, p in v, spicy dreams, nipple play, spooky stuff, blood, ghosts, screaming

note: why is it always raining in my fics? because I said so that's why

banner made by the fantastic @ewanmitchellcrumbs, ilysm ange!

The sunlight pours into your room, warming the soft silk sheets you sleep in. They wrap around your naked flesh soft as butter and you hum contentedly, turning on your side. It’s so cozy, and you nuzzle your face against the pillows breathing in the scent of the fresh linen.

You have to be dreaming.

You’re sleeping naked. What? You’ve never done that here; it's too unpredictable with Helaena’s condition, and the children. The sheets are never this soft, never this warm. There’s never someone’s hand trailing a path down your naked shoulder, in between your shoulder blades down to cup the swell of your ass.

Your eyes flutter but do not open. That hand trails back up your spine sending delicious shivers down your body. A deep groan echoes behind you.

You’re dreaming.

Aemond hums against you, pressing his lips to the skin of your throat, nibbling right below your ear. His hand snakes around under the covers, caressing your lower stomach drawing patterns along the smooth skin. You’re aching for him, drenched for him, arching your back to press against the hardness that pokes your rear.

Another set of hands is on you. Smaller, just as warm, palms smooth as they caress your skin.

It doesn’t make any sense.

Then your eyes open as a manicured hand cups your cheeks, dragging your head forward. The woman in front of you is naked, with dark hair around her face, and long lashes framing bright green eyes. She smiles and you recognize her from the pictures online. Alys pulls you in for a sensual kiss, her tongue caressing your lower lip as you sigh into her mouth.

You can feel Aemond behind you, as his hand wraps around your hip, dipping between your legs and brushing against your clit. Your legs spasm as he caresses you, Alys bringing a hand down to join him, breaching you with two slender fingers as he continues to massage your clit. Your head falls back against his shoulder as Alys kisses down your neck, latching her lips around your taut nipple sucking hard.

“She’s all ready for you,” Alys murmurs against you, “Take her, take her now.”

Aemond’s teeth find purchase against the junction of your neck and shoulder and you cry out, grinding your hips desperately against Alys’s hand.

“You want this?” Aemond gasps, fisting his length, pumping it harshly, “Y/N tell me.”

Alys slows her fingers, removing them from your aching center leaving you feeling disparagingly empty. You whimper as Aemond kisses your neck, turning your cheek towards him.

“She does,” Alys insists, pinching your breasts, nibbling up to your neck, “Say it.”

“Yes,” you breathe, and Alys reaches down, lifting your leg and hitching it against her waist, spreading you wide for Aemond.

You can feel him drag the fat head of his cock along your folds, feel Alys press her breasts against yours, nipples rubbing together as you thrash between them. Alys hand snakes between your legs replacing Aemond’s, circling your clit with the pads of her fingers; nimble hands winding the coil of pleasure in your belly tighter and tighter.

“Please, please--” you beg, one hand wrapped around Aemond’s neck, the other holding Alys close. Your voice is raw and desperate. You’re aching for him, clenching around nothing; he’s so close to slipping inside you, you can feel the fat head of his cock poking your entrance. Crying out in anticipation your nails claw against his neck; you need him so desperately.

“Yes, yes, there!” Alys says, green eyes bright as fire, “Aemond…now.”

“Witch.”

Someone else has spoken. Someone whose voice you cannot place. You awake with a start, gasping for air covered in a cold sweat.

Your room is dark. The sheets are cold.

The house creaks and groans.

Shaking your head you try to rid yourself of the dream you’ve had, though the wetness between your thighs makes it rather difficult. You have to get out of the room, if you stay you’ll keep thinking about it.

Gods that dream.

Was that another one of Alys’s tricks? Or was this your own mind, longing for him? You don’t stay in bed any longer to find out, even with the ache that resides between your thighs.

Stumbling out of bed you throw open the door and enter the dimly lit hallway. It’s barely sunrise, and the morning light is still just starting to creep over the horizon. What surprises you is Aemond standing at the other end of the hall, looking as though he’d just woken from sleep as well. A sharp pang of desire washes through you as you lock eyes with him.

Oh gods.

Hunger lingers in his gaze, in the way he wets his lips; a vein on his neck jumps. Your thighs clench together and his eyes fall to your legs as though he can sense it.

He’s dreamt about it too.

Not one more second goes by before he’s walking toward you, slamming his lips against yours. Aemond’s hands stay locked on you; one large hand gripping your hip, thumb smoothing the exposed skin while his other hand holds the back of your neck. He pushes you against the wall, caging you against it with his hips, pressing into you. You moan into his mouth at the feeling of the hardness between his legs.

Gods, he’s so hard.

A pathetic whimper escapes your lips as he continues to kiss you, greedily accepting the little noises you award him. His hands climb higher, prying your arms from around him and pressing them into the wall above your head.

Lips, teeth, tongues. It’s just him. Just Aemond all around you, burning brightly as your skin prickles with desire. Aemond’s lips move to your neck, sucking and kissing leaving bruises no doubt.

Your eyes flutter open, catching a shadow at the end of the hall.

“Aemond,” you whisper, mustering all the strength you have.

“Yes,” he groans, nose dragging up the side of your neck. Your eyes roll back as his teeth sink into the flesh of your earlobe.

“We can’t,” you tell him, “We’re not supposed to-”

His lips freeze as he pauses. His nose slides down the side of your neck and you can feel his warm breath against your shoulder as he struggles to compose himself.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, against your neck. He releases your hands, “I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be,” you assure him as he steps away, “It was me too.”

“I…I had,” he trails off, but catches your eye once more, “You too?”

“Yeah,” you tell me, “Me too.”

You glance to your left. The shadow has disappeared. A relieved sigh leaves you, though the ache between your legs does not.

“Breakfast?” you suggest, and Aemond nods in agreement, following you down the hall. He holds onto your hand the entire time.

The rest of the day goes smoothly, as long as Aemond and you keep your distance. As soon as you get near each other, it's as though lightning is crackling between you. He brushed behind you in the kitchen as you’d cleaned the dishes and you’d let one drop, splashing suds onto your stomach.

Later, you’d assisted Jaehaera with her piano practice and he’d sat beside you both, long fingers brushing against yours, the veins on the back of his hands protruding as he plucked the chords of Clair de Lune. He’d pushed the bench back with a start, quickly exiting the room.

Torture.

This was torture.

After putting Jaehaera to bed that night, you contemplated locking yourself in your room for the remainder of the night. Surely the safest option. Aemond was like a walking aphrodisiac, you craved him whenever he was in the room.

Walking down the hall, you turned the corner, heading toward your room when the lights on the walls flickered. You stopped short, breath catching in your throat. The lights flickered once more. Goosebumps rise on your forearms.

“Alys,” you spoke aloud, to the empty hall before you, “I’m going to bed.”

You tried to sound firm, but the shaking of your voice couldn’t be helped. The lights flicker once more. Harrenhal is an old house, and this hall is windowless. If they go out, you’ll be left in complete darkness. It’s only dark. But a voice in the back of your head said something different.

The lights flicker and your throat tightens, mouth going dry. You can make it to your room. You’ve been here a while, you know the way.

They flicker again, taking longer to turn on. You’re left in darkness for a few breaths.

You know the way.

Then there is nothing but darkness.

The sound of your breathing is all you can hear before you take a step forward causing the floorboards to creak. You hold your hands out slightly in front of you, nearly blind as your eyes struggle to adjust. It’s only dark. Jaehaera is afraid of the dark. You were afraid of the dark as a child, you hated it so much.

A sound behind you causes you to lurch toward the wall, hands finding purchase against it. That was a floorboard. Someone is there. Someone is standing behind you.

“Aemond?” you whisper, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end.

There is no answer. You can feel someone's presence. Someone’s eyes watching you.

“Hel…Helaena?” you whisper into the darkness. Your hand shakes and you press it harder against the wall.

The palms of your hands are sweating, nearly sliding down the wall.

“Hello?” you whisper, more of a desperate whimper.

Your hands slip, the walls slick with your sweat. Wait. You pull your right hand from the wall turning it, curling your fingers inward. Your hand is wet. Not sweat. Something drips down the wall, covering the back of your left hand. Something else.

The strong scent of copper floods your nose and fills your mouth. You pull your hand away, a small noise of terrified discomfort leaving your lips. Your hands shake as the lights flicker back on, illuminating the hall.

Eyes wide you glance at your red-stained hands. You glance at the walls and watch as thick ruby rivers flood down the wallpaper pooling onto the wood floor. Blood. The walls are bleeding. It's pooling all around you as you shake, coating the bottom of your shoes and as you back up you slip, slamming against the floor.

Hot. Sticky. Metallic. Blood.

The screams of Harrenhal are yours that night. It’s guttural and panicked; a raw sound that makes your stomach clench with the force of it and your eyes squeeze shut. As soon as all the air has exited your lungs, and you gasp for breath preparing to scream once more, you open your eyes.

You’re on the floor.

The lights are on.

No blood.

Just your hair matted to your neck and face with nervous sweat, and your trembling limbs and an ache in your tailbone from your fall. Wildly you glance around, examining the faded teal wallpaper. You swallow, swearing you still taste it. Still smell it. But it's gone.

Your breathing is shallow but you force yourself to stand on shaky legs. Hurrying down the hall you round the corner and nearly run into someone. Your heart stops beating, and you clutch your chest, fighting another scream.

“Seven hells!” you squeak. She’s in her nightgown, her feet bare, silvery hair flowing freely around her face, “Helaena! You scared me--”

“What are you doing here?” she asks, her voice flat. Struggling to regulate your breathing, you frown at her. Helaena’s violet eyes are different, there’s something else present there. Her lips are firmly pressed together, her chin held high.

“What?”

“What are you doing here?” she repeats, “Do you have no semblance for your own safety?”

Your blood runs cold.

“Who are you?”

“That witch will try again,” Helaena continues, “And she’s likely to get what she wants. She’s as persistent in life as in death.”

“What do you mean? Was that Alys?” you ask, confusion making your head throb.

There was so much blood.

“The girl before you at least had a head on her shoulders. She left rather quickly once she found out about this place,” Helaena--or not really Helaena--says, “Off to a place with kinder ghosts I suppose.”

“What does that mean? Why won’t you tell me anything?” you ask.

“This one,” she says, tapping her head, “Smarter than the lot of you. Sadder. It’s a pity…” she trails off, looking into the distance and humming to herself.

“I don’t doubt it,” you tell her, “Helaena ... .Helaena please.”

She blinks, eyes still cold as she grabs your hand in hers, “Leave this house.” Her hand is cold. Aemond always runs so hot. The children as well. It’s unusual. Like all Targareyns should run warm.

A floorboard creaks, alerting you of another presence. Supernatural or not, that is the real question. You turn still holding Helaena’s hand on your own.

“Mũna?” the small voice of Jaehaera calls.

You turn around, just as Helaena releases your arm. Jaehaera stands in her nightgown. Her eyes are wide as she looks up at her mother. Helaena brushes by you, dropping your hand and kneeling in front of Jaehaera.

“You’re not mũna,” she says softly.

Helaena’s mouth ticks upwards in a small half smile.

“You’re very clever,” she says.

“I’ve lost my doll,” Jaehaera says sniffling, “I’ve no idea where he’s gone to.”

“I’m sorry,” Helaena tells her, “You need a proper doll, anyhow.”

Jaehaera gives a small nod, her lower lip wobbling in its pout.

“Where is mũna?” Jaehaera asks, her eyes welling with tears, “I miss her.”

“She’ll be back soon,” Helaena answers, brushing some hair from Jaehaera’s face, “Come now, you do not have time for tears.”

Jaehaera sniffles, and takes a deep breath.

“You’re a very brave girl,” Helaena continues.

“I don’t want to be brave anymore,” Jaehaera admits, “I wish there wasn’t anything to be brave about.”

Helaena nods, humming in agreement.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to be brave a little while longer. Do you think you can do that?” she asks.

A tear rolls down Jaehaera’s cheek, but she nods all the same. Helaena pats her head before standing and turning back to face you.

Who are you? You don’t ask your question out loud.

She says nothing, only stares before her body goes rigid, eyes rolling back in her head. Thankfully, you leap forward just as she goes limp and catches her crumpling form, the pair of you falling to the floor.

“Jaehaera, go get Aemond,” you tell her, holding Helaena tight, “Go!”

Jaehaera turns on her heel, walking quickly down the hall and out of sight.

After the events in the hall, Aemond had helped Helaena back into bed. She’d woken slightly, trapped somewhere between dreams and reality, clutching his hand.

“Aemond--”

“Shh, don’t speak,” he’d told her, as you stood in the doorway.

“I don’t…I can’t…”

“It’s alright,” Aemond insists.

“Something is wrong,” she whimpered, “I don’t…I keep seeing-”

“Everything is alright,” he insists, stroking her head.

“It’s so loud,” she softly cries, tears dripping down her cheeks, “In my head..my head.”

“It’s alright Hel, I’ve got you,” Aemond murmurs.

“I don’t want..you have to listen,” she murmurs, sleep overtaking her, “I need ... .you can't ... .understand?”

“I understand,” he assures her, though his expression is pained and confused, “Don’t worry, I understand.”

“The eye. The dragon,” she mumbles, eyes fully closed, “Don’t…don’t go.”

You can hear Jaehaera’s feet padding down the hall and take that as your cue to leave. Shutting the door, you intercept her before she reaches her mother’s door.

“You should be in bed,” you tell her, forcing a smile on your face.

“I can’t,” she cries, “Not without my doll.”

“Tomorrow,” you assure her, “I’ll go into town and get you one.”

Jaehara cries in your arms until eventually drifting to sleep. You stay in the nursery with her, wide awake until the sun begins to peak over the horizon.

Aemond offers to drive you to town. It makes sense since you’re without a car. It also appears he doesn’t want to be alone. No matter the risk, he clings to your side throughout the day escorting you and the children to each of your daily activities.

You go in the late afternoon when Jaehaera has just begun her afternoon lessons and Maelor is taking his afternoon nap. You’d argued it didn’t make sense for him to join you at first, that no one would be watching Maelor.

“I’ll watch him,” Helaena has offered. You’d looked at her questioningly, remembering the previous night. Goosebumps prickled on your skin. “I’d like to.”

“You would?” Aemond asked, his eyes wide with wonder, “Are…are you sure?”

She looks better, as though she’d slept an awful long time. Her violet eyes were hers once more, but you couldn’t help but wonder who had been in her place the previous night.

Leave this house.

“Yes,” Helaena said nodding, “I’m sure.”

That witch will try again.

And so, Aemond and you headed into town. The weather was still terrible as you entered, fat drops of rain hitting the car so hard it sounded like hail. The wipers are struggling to keep up, and the headlights of his car barely slice through the thick fog that rolls off of the pavement.

“Aemond…” you ask cautiously, watching his knuckles turn white against the wheel. He is clearly still upset from the events of the previous night, he’d barely spoken as you’d begun to drive. “Aemond pull over.”

He listens after a moment of gritting his teeth. He pulls over to the side of the road, turns the car off, and rests his face against his hands. The rain sounds thunderous as it slams against the car.

“Aemond?” you ask again, bringing your hand to his face, and turning his chin toward you.

That’s when you notice the stream of tears running down his face.

“Oh, Aemond..”

“I’m sorry,” he says gruffly, pulling his face away from your hand. He rubs at his eyes, at his cheeks.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” you assure him.

“I didn’t….fuck,” he says gruffly, “I just..Helaena hasn’t wanted to be alone with the children in…since…” he trails off, his voice choked with tears, “I have so much hope for her. That she’s getting better, that she..that she can move on.”

You listen intently, chest tightening at his words.

“I just want her to be safe,” he says with a sigh, “That’s all. Just happy and safe.”

Your heart breaks for him. All he wants in the world is for his sister to be okay. For her children to be alright.

“You’re human, Aemond. And you’re trying your best. That’s all you can do.”

“I worry she’ll never be happy again. I just…I wish my best were enough,” he admits, his voice cracking with the final word.

You reach for his opposite hand, squeezing it. He’s warm, his palm rough against your own.

“It’s more than enough,” you insist, “Aemond, it is.”

He turns his cheek against your hand, kissing your palm. The action is so affectionate it steals your breath.

“Thank you,” he says, eyes watching you closely, “I…I’ve been thinking. About…” He trails off. What was he going to say?

The dream. The kiss. You. Just you, always you.

He says your name, it leaves his lips like a prayer. Like he’s found salvation in the syllables of your name. His eyes map your face, memorizing every inch.

“Aemond…” you begin, not even sure what you want, what you’re asking.

“Yes,” he breathes, inching closer until you feel his breath on your face, his hand caressing your cheek mirroring the actions of your own on his face, “Gevie..”

“What does it mean?” you ask, “Jaehaera never told me.”

“Beautiful,” he tells you, “So beautiful.”

Then he’s kissing you, his mouth warm and soft, his lips molding perfectly against your own.

You’re unclipping your seatbelt. He’s pushing back his seat, removing his own as you climb into his lap. Your knees stick to the leather seats you press yourself against him, grinding against his lap. You’re far from the house, nearly in town. It’s just you and him.

Aemond. Just Aemond.

You struggle out of your pants, his hand cupping your hot center, long fingers dipping through your soaked folds and spreading you open. Your hands fiddle with his belt, heart hammering against your chest as he presses kisses to your cheek, your jaw, your chin, your clavicle. Every piece of exposed flesh his hot mouth can press against. You rip the top of his shirt open, exposing his chest.

Gods yes.

Your hand wraps around him, easing his achingly hard member out of his pants. Aemond sits back, jaw slacking as his hands grip your hips while you sink down on top of him. Your mouth falls open at the sensation of him stretching you out, and your hips settle against his.

“Gods,” you whimper, walls pulsating around him, trying desperately to adjust to his thick girth.

Aemond’s face and chest are flushed, his lips parted as your nails dig against the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. His hips buck up against yours as you lift your own, a desperate attempt to keep himself fully sheathed in your warmth.

“Please,” he whispers, hands holding your face, lips brushing against yours, “Oh..fuck you feel good.”

“It’s okay,” you murmur, kissing him softly, rolling your hips against him, keeping him buried to the hilt inside of you.

A breathy groan escapes him and you keep moving, slowly rocking against him letting the head of his cock rub against the spongy part of your walls that has you clenching around him. The sounds in the car are wet, borderline obscene as you ride him.

Fire pools in your belly, building slowly and purposefully with every roll of your hips. His breathing is shallow and ragged, matching your own as you kiss one another desperately. The windows are fogged, the air hot and heavy between you; you can feel sweat beading on your neck, sticky forehead pressed against his as he gazes at you through half-lidded eyes. His violet eye wide with wonder, with tenderness as you whine at a particularly pleasurable nudge against your g-spot.

Legs shuddering, Aemond presses a kiss against your jaw, below your ear, down your neck. He’s everywhere, he’s all-consuming, and when his hand snakes between your conjoined bodies to toy with your clit you tremble against him; clinging onto him for dear life you fall apart with a strangled cry, pussy constricting against him.

Aemond’s hands hold your hips, moving you with purpose as he chases his own release. Your legs ache with exertion but you force yourself to move as the remnants of your orgasm tingle throughout your limbs. With a choked whimper, Aemond’s cock twitches against your velvety walls, the warmth of his cum flooding you.

You sit in comfortable silence, the sound of the rain beginning to ebb. He keeps kissing you, and you push some hair from his forehead, placing a kiss there as you do. His arms hold you tight keeping you molded against him.

Just you and Aemond.

Aemond and you.

note: hope you enjoyed this chapter! as always, comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but never expected (though you will receive a forehead kiss from me if you do any of them).

ONE PART LEFT coming Halloween! 🎃

if you would like to be tagged in this series, please let me know!

bold means I could not tag!

To be notified when I post something new, be sure to follow @sapphire-writes-updates & turn notifications on 🖤

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joelmillershole · 2 years ago

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dark but just a game

raider!joel x reader

warnings: 18+ mdni! raider!joel, rough sex/smut, unprotected piv sex (wrap it before u tap it folks), fingering, choking, hair pulling, probably dubcon but it’s not really?, deep throating/face fucking, spanking, joel is mean, joel is a bad man (but such a hot one), pet names (baby, sweetheart), no use of y/n

word count: 2.4k

a/n: i am depraved. also I wrote this in like 1 sitting and had to post. omg. i’ve never posted smut before and of course when I do it has to be fucking nasty! enjoy

You knew you treaded on a thin tightrope. No net, no balancing pole, nothing but the ground a hundred feet below and a short landing thirty feet away. The only consolation was the lack of a crowd, empty stands around the circus tent, only yourself and the lone figure on the other side. Waiting for you. Faceless, nameless; but you knew in the back of your mind that wasn’t true. Maybe your subconscious wanted you to believe that when you had this dream. You knew better.

You knew better than to trust yourself not to fall.

You weren’t even around too long before the outbreak happened; never even been to a circus. Only read about it in books. But the metaphor seemed apt, and as you climbed and gripped every rung of the ladder to the starting spot, you cursed and cursed yourself for the inevitable fall. Like clockwork, though -- like a machine with no off button -- you made the climb again and again.

And again. Creeping around the decimated town, you closed your eyes. Imagined taking the first step onto the taut wire. Felt it lag under your weight. Inhaled slowly, bracing yourself for the second step. And just as you swung your other foot out, just as you tightened your core and prayed to any God that would listen, your arms pinwheeled wildly and you lost your balance.

He’d snuck up on you, pinned you face-first to the wall with his large, heavy hands. The sharp inhale, the gasp, that you sucked in, overshadowed by a dark, languid chuckle from behind and somewhere above your ears.

“Can’t get enough of me, huh, baby?” You almost forgot about the drawl. The hint of some origin from long ago. Shivering, you felt his words fan against the shell of your ear, breath hot and sending goosebumps down your arms. “‘Li’l pathetic, don’t’ya think?”

You barely heard yourself respond, some breathy denial, maybe a squeak. Something truly pathetic, just as he said.

Joel used one hand to grip your hair at the root, yanking your head backward. His nails dug into your scalp. It was painful -- your eyes filled, against your will, with tears -- but then again, you knew it would be. You expected it to be.

He peered down at you, scowling. He looked strange from this point, upside-down and blurry. His other hand wrapped around your body, no longer used to shove you against the sharp bricks of some building wall. It found its spot at your throat. You swallowed against it, eyes fluttering shut as he applied pressure.

“Haven’t seen you in a minute,” he whispered. He pressed his lips against your temple. “Been hidin’ from me, baby?”

You shook your head. It was difficult to do with his hand wrapped around your throat and his vice-like grip on your hair. Miniscule, almost, but he got the message. “No?” He nosed down your cheek until his lips found the junction between your chin and your neck, just above where his thumb squeezed. Joel sucked the skin in between his lips, rolled it in between his teeth.

You gasped. You squeezed your legs together against the sharp ache between them. You grit your teeth. You didn’t think to do each one of these actions, the only thought in your head the feeling of Joel sucking on your neck. And plummeting a hundred feet down.

“Joel-” you tried but only choked as he tightened his grip with both hands. “P-please-”

“Please, what?” He mumbled into your neck. He let go of it to slide his hand down the length of your body, grabbing roughly at your breasts first, before trailing it down your belly and between the waistband of your pants. “Use your words, baby. Been so long since I’ve gotten to hear your pretty voice.”

Against your better judgment, your stomach flipped at his words, his praise. God, you craved this. It was the only reason you’d snuck out of your QZ to go searching around the abandoned city around it, far enough away from the FEDRA soldiers that you didn’t worry about getting caught. Unless there were some other raiders around; not an impossibility, but unlikely enough that you weren’t worried. Joel kept to himself. Even if someone did manage to find you two, you knew Joel would take care of it. You’d watched him kill before. He was violent and scary. There must be something wrong with you if it turned you on so much.

Joel, in a rough motion, let go of you to spin you around to face him. You barely got a glimpse of his face before he had his hands on your shoulders, pushing you down. Your knees hit the pavement with a painful jolt. You watched him undo his belt, deft hands quickly unbuttoning and pushing down his jeans and boxers. And then there he was, his thick cock hard and weeping with precum.

“You gonna suck me, baby girl?” Joel said. He fisted his hand in your hair again, pulling you closer. “Or am I gonna make you?”

You swallowed, looking up at him through your lashes. “I will, Joel,” you murmured. You leaned forward to take the tip of him into your mouth. He tasted salty, the precum rubbing against your tongue. Joel stared down at you, eyes dark and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. He pressed his hips in further and you obeyed, opening wider to swallow him deep. As his cock hit the back of your throat, you gagged around it, eyes watering, but not missing the way his closed, nor the exhalation of pleasure that left his lips.

“Fuck,” he swore lowly. “Mouth feels so fucking good. Love the way those pretty lips look wrapped around my cock.”

Your stomach flipped again, even as you gagged once more. Still, Joel pressed in further, his long cock inching down your throat. Your breathing quickened, chest rising and falling rapidly. You didn’t know how you were going to keep taking him, not when you kept gagging.

“Relax, baby,” he cooed, free hand brushing against your cheek. You looked up at him, breathing heavily through your nose. “Relax your throat. Don’t panic, you can take it.”

You tried your best to listen to him. You relaxed your throat, eyes squeezing shut as he pulled your head down his length until you had taken everything. Every inch of him stuffed down your throat, nose pressed into the small mass of curls above the base of his cock. You knew you must be dripping, clenching agonizingly around nothing.

“Look at you, fuck,” Joel said. He let go of your hair to run his fingers through it. “Keep breathin’ through your nose, baby. Gonna keep my cock in that mouth.”

You moaned around his length. When you closed your eyes, tears fell down your cheeks; but you listened, nails digging into your palms painfully. You knew he would be angry if you raised them and grabbed his legs. You’d played this game before.

Joel slid out of your mouth almost all the way, enough that you could finally breathe around it. You swallowed in large gulps of air before he pressed in again, slowly, all the way down to the hilt. You only gagged once before you relaxed and let him fuck your mouth.

After that, his pace increased. It was almost too much, the in and out, your throat spasming around his thick cock. Your lips and throat and knees ached, strings of saliva hanging down your chin, but you sat there dutifully, tears streaming out of eyes that you kept trained on him. You watched his expression, dark and flushed, as he used your mouth for himself. Your core ached. You kept falling, down and down, not having yet hit the ground.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Joel panted, sliding all the way out of your mouth. Your throat felt empty at the loss. “So fuckin’ good. Little slut for me. You a slut for anybody else?”

You shook your head, turning to wipe your mouth on the shoulder of your shirt. “No, Joel,” you croaked out. Your voice was fucked. “Only a slut for your cock.”

Joel swore. Staring down at you, he thought for a moment, then dragged you standing by your hair. You winced at the crack of your knees, the strain of them straightening after being bent for so long. Joel pushed your cheek against the wall again, his hand slipping in between your waistband once more.

You gasped as he ran a thick finger across your folds; Joel swore again at the wetness, sinking two fingers in to the knuckle.

“Joel,” you begged, eyes fluttering. You groaned out something incoherent, your body twitching at the feel of his fingers curling inside of you. They were so much longer than yours and could reach so much deeper. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Joel…”

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered into your neck. His thumb flicked your swollen clit roughly and you almost screamed at the feeling. Your knees could have buckled and he would’ve kept you upright just from the force of his body pressing you into the wall. “You like that? So wet from just sucking my cock. You really are a slut, huh?”

“Yes,” you sobbed. “Came looking for you. For this.”

Joel groaned, nipping at your neck. “I know, baby. So desperate for this cock.” When you nodded, he chuckled, extracting his fingers from your pussy. “So fuckin’ desperate… guess I’ll give you what you came for.”

Joel yanked your pants down to the knees. He grabbed your thighs and pulled you back against him, then pushed your torso forward so you were bent over. He pinned both of your hands behind your back with one hand and used the other to rub the tip of his cock against your soaked pussy.

Without another word, Joel thrust his full length into you in one swell move. You screamed, tears pricking your eyes at the burn, the fullness. He sighed from behind you, the hand not gripping your wrists moving to slap your naked ass. You yelped at the sting of it.

“Missed this pretty pussy,” Joel mumbled. “Who does this pussy belong to, baby?”

You shuddered throughout your entire body as you got used to the stretch. It’d been months since you had him inside of you, and it was something your body forgot. Too caught up in the feeling of his cock inside of you, you didn’t answer. He slapped your ass again, harder.

“I said, who does this pussy belong to?”

“You,” you cried out, clenching around him.

“Say it.” Joel dragged his cock out inch by inch, slowly, then sheathed himself back to the hilt with a grunt. “Who makes you this fuckin’ wet?”

“You, Joel.” You barely even registered speaking. “This pussy belongs to you… I’m this wet for you…” Heat bit at your cheeks, embarrassment, but you kept blubbering as he began to slide in and out of you slowly. You felt the drag of every inch, every centimeter. “Please, please, please fuck me-- harder, please--”

Joel laughed mockingly behind you. “Harder? If you say so.”

Your vision blurred as Joel fucked you, hard and deep and almost painfully. That familiar heat built up in your core. You wondered if it was even possible for you to come without him touching you, just from his cock alone. You never had before. But it’d been this long, and if you shut your eyes, you envisioned the ground steadily raising to meet your plummeting body. An acrobat you most definitely were not.

As if on cue, Joel shifted ever so slightly. His cock hit some spot inside of you, soft and spongy, and you unraveled with a start. Eyes rolling back into your head, you slumped, cheek scraping against the sharp edges of the brick wall. You barely noticed the pain and only distantly did you feel Joel pull you backward by your hair, your back arched, and heard him groan at the feeling of your pussy spasming around his cock.

“Shit, baby!” He bit down on your neck and used two fingers to rub your clit. “Didn’t even touch you. You gonna come for me again?”

Just as you started coming down, the quick circles he drew around your bundle of nerves sent painful overstimulation shuddering through your body.

“No,” you cried out, body jerking. “‘S too much, Joel-”

“Shut up,” he said, voice bland. “Take it, baby.” His hips jerked harder. You shrieked with each thrust into your sensitive core. His fingers didn’t let up, and in less than a minute, you felt your peak rising quickly again, this time muddled and almost feverish.

You came again. Harder. It felt like it lasted forever, like you were never going to come out of it, like you were stuck eternally in this high. Joel’s thrusts became erratic and off-kilter and then he was coming, too, with a grunt, filling you up. You didn’t even have the mind or energy to protest, just shook around his cock as he filled you with his come.

It took a minute, but you finally came down, bones sagging like jelly in your post-orgasmic state. Joel slid out of you. When he let you go to pull his pants up, you crumpled to the ground.

He squatted down to your level, rough hands lifting you at the hips and yanking your pants up. He set you back down and stood up, peering down at you with a blank expression.

“Keep telling you not to come back,” he said.

You stared back up at him, mind blank.

“Keep telling you ‘m not a good man, baby,” said Joel. “I ain’t gonna cuddle you after, just gonna take what I want. But you don’t listen.”

He bent down to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. Then he gripped your chin in between his fingers.

“I know you ain’t gonna listen if I say it again,” he said. “So I’ll see you next time.”

You watched him walk away, turning the corner and leaving you alone in the alleyway he’d found you in what seemed like forever ago.

After a few minutes, you managed to pick yourself up, wincing at the ache between your legs. You started on the way back to the QZ, wondering when the next time was you’d decide to make the climb again.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal as joel miller #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #tlou show #raider!joel #joel miller smut #smut #tlou smut #joelmillershole

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yuk-tepat · 10 months ago

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Proto-Swiric

More work on Proto-Swiric, the protolanguage of the Swira and their language family, Macro-Swiric.

The Swira mentioned before here occasionally, are nomadic herder "barbarians" living north of Tepat.

In order to develop them more, the protolanguage had to be developed more, and because I didn't do that first, it requires changes to the Swira language. For a very general view, see this skeleton history of the Swira in flowchart form. Also, more examples of them here: https://www.tumblr.com/yuk-tepat/tagged/swira.

The language family ranges over a large part of northern Tiptum (the continent on which Tepat is). (The yellow part of this (old) map: https://www.tumblr.com/yuk-tepat/123295676038/linguistic-map-of-tiptum-at-the-height-of-the)

Anyway, about the protolanguage:

The speakers lived at or near the junction of the Eastern Cordillera and the interior plains, and perhaps spanned across it. They were nomadic, at least some of them migrating seasonally between mountains and plains - similar to many of their descendants. But at this point, herding had not been adopted; that would come later, and so many words for things like horses, riding, etc. cannot be reconstructed this far back, only to subfamilies. Instead, they hunted, including some large grazers that are now extinct.

Consonants:

Fortis: p t k kʷ q qʷ ʔ

Lenis: b d g gʷ (q qʷ ʔ)*

Fricative: s x xʷ χ χʷ h

Nasal: m n ŋ ŋʷ

Approximant: l

Stops distinguish 'fortis' and 'lenis.' *Fortis/lenis distinction erased in q qʷ ʔ. Also, at the end of syllables. Alternation between them is forced in some environments; all stop clusters are Lenis-Fortis. Dorsal consonants can be front (velar) or back (uvular), and distinguish rounded or unrounded; Labials are always rounded, coronals and glottals are neutral.

Vowels:

Short: a i u ɯ ǝ

Long: e: o: (a:)

Seven, possibly 8, though some linguists reconstruct as few as three. /a/ alternates with schwa in some forms, less commonly /e o/ alternate with /i u/.

The vowels form a hierarchy from "strong" to "weak" like so:

e, o > a > i u ɯ > ǝ

This is relevant for a number of processes, from stress to how morphemes combine. Stress usually falls on the strongest vowel in the stem. Strong vowels displace weaker vowels when they collide. Weaker vowels disappear or coalesce to form stronger vowels. Schwa is never stressed.

#conlang #protolanguage #swira #worldbuilding #conworld

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scotianostra · 1 year ago

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On February 1st 1865 the Highland Railway was formed from the amalgamation of Inverness and Perth Junction and the Inverness and Aberdeen Junction Railways.

Back in the day every region had it’s own local railway company covering the different areas around the country. The Highland Railway ran from Perth in Central Scotland north to Inverness and then on up the east coast to Wick and Thurso. From Dingwall, the railway ran west to Kyle of Lochalsh to serve Skye and the Western Isles. From Inverness, another line ran east to Keith, where it connected with the line to Aberdeen. Several branches were built from this core network to serve nearby towns.

This is a longer post than I normally put together but hope you get an idea of how all these wee companies ran, and ended up becoming the one company, before of course the bigger companies ate them all up. Some of the stations are now gone, but others mentioned, like Kingussie, Nairn, Keith and Dunkeld survive to this day, and I often pass through them on my travels north. It also gives us an insight intothe infamous Beeching cuts in the 60’s which butchered the rail network, if Beeching had his way there would be no railways beyond Inverness!!

Inverness was always the centre of the Highland Railway. It was the company’s headquarters and principle station. All trains led to Inverness.

The original proposals to construct railways to Inverness were made in the mid-1840s. Rival routes were proposed from Perth and Aberdeen . The Perth & Inverness Railway was considered too hilly for the locomotives of the day, but the Great North of Scotland Railway (GNSR) from Aberdeen was authorised. The GNSR struggled to raise capital in the post-railway mania period and eventually started construction as far as Huntly in 1852, opening that line in 1854.

The people of Inverness then stepped in and started building their own line from the Inverness end, initially as far as Nairn, the Inverness & Nairn Railway (I&N) was opened on 6th. November 1855 but by then plans were being made to extend this railway to meet the GNSR. After some discussion, the Inverness & Aberdeen Junction Railway (I&AJ) was promoted to build the line from Nairn to Keith where it met the GNSR extension from Huntly. The I&AJ was completed on 18th. August 1858,when it took over the working of the I&N.

The people of Inverness were never satisfied with the long journey round via Aberdeen , especially as the GNSR’s station was half a mile from that of the line from the south and connections were not always maintained. Thus was born the Inverness and Perth Junction Railway (I&PJR) which ran from Forres via Grantown, Kingussie and Drumochter summit to Dunkeld where it met with end on with the Perth and Dunkeld Railway which had opened in 1856. The I&P was authorised in 1861 and opened just two years later, being worked from the outset by the I&AJR. The two companies amalgamated on 1st. February 1865 to form the Highland Railway.

Meanwhile construction northwards from Inverness had already started, with a line to Dingwall (1862), Invergordon (1863), Bonar Bridge (1864), Golspie (1868), Helmsdale (1871) and Wick and Thurso (1874). Westward from Dingwall, the Dingwall & Skye Railway was opened to Strome Ferry in 1870.

In the 1890s, two additions were made to the main network. The direct line from Aviemore over Slochd to Inverness was completed in 1898, a year after the Skye line was extended to the present terminus at Kyle of Lochalsh. Several branches were opened from these main lines over the next 40 years, taking the final length of the system to some 242 route miles.Tourist traffic has always been a major source of income for the railways in the Highlands . The Highland Railway developed its own hotels at Inverness , Dornoch and Strathpeffer. It offered combined tours in conjunction with the steamer services of David MacBrayne. Each August it had to contend with the annual migration north for the ‘glorious twelfth.’

The railway played a major part in the First World War, when the Grand Fleet was stationed at Scapa Flow in the Orkney Islands . Worn down, like many other railways in the country, it became part of the London , Midland and Scottish Railway in 1923. The LMS continued to develop the lines, introducing dining cars and speeding up services. The Second World War again imposed a considerable strain on the lines.

On the nationalisation of the railways, the Scottish Region of British Railways took over. Soon the development of road transport made a significant impact on the use of the railway. The closure of branch lines, which had started in the 1930s, continued. The Beeching Plan of 1963 envisaged the closure of all lines north of Inverness , but this was not approved because those lines still provided a lifeline in winter. The old route from Aviemore to Forres and a number of intermediate stations on the main lines, were closed. Otherwise the main system remained intact, as it does today. Currently operated by ScotRail, the lines continue to provide a vital link to locals and bring many tourists to the area.

The Highland Railway was well known for its locomotives. Working the steep gradients of the main line, in particular, was always a challenge. Add strong winds and snow and the problems became even worse. The railway introduced the first 4-6-0s to the British Isles, commemorated in the preserved No.103 at the Glasgow Transport Museum . In the 1930s, the LMS Black 5s, locally always called “Hikers”, immediately proved their worth. The isolated nature of the country led British Railways to implement complete dieselisation early in the modernisation plan.

Today class 158 and 170 diesel multiple units work most of the trains, but you can still retire to bed in a sleeper on the line out of London Euston and wake up to the sound of a Class 67 struggling up Drumochter.

#scotland #scottish #history #scottish highlands #rail network #transport

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distracteddream · 9 months ago

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WIP Word Game

Rules: You will be given a word. Share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of that word.

Again, @marmolita with the open tag! The word was PLINTH and whew, I’m putting some of this under the cut because some of these are longer. These are all from my Lokius pirate AU, so enjoy!

P: Plus he was a decent singer.

The tune ended to shouts for another and Mobius chuckled. Loki had found himself a captive audience.

L: “Loki… what are you doing?” Mobius whispered.

Loki leaned forward until his lips brushed Mobius’. His dark hair fell in a curtain around their faces.

“Maybe I’m being a little foolish too,” he breathed against Mobius’ lips. And then Loki kissed him.

I: “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do.” Mobius let his fingertips slide to Loki’s bared shoulder and dipped his head to kiss the junction of his shoulder and neck. “Your crew was always one of the most successful out there. I don’t even want to think about how much riches you’ve gained through illicit means. But you’ve always only attacked TVA ships. Why is that? There are better takes out there.”

Loki turned his face over his shoulder, a grin teasing his lips. “Maybe I don’t want better takes.”

“Liar.”

N: “No?” Mobius rested a hip on his table to find Loki cocking his head at him. “And just how long have you pursued me?”

Mobius ran a hand over his face. “What does that-”

“Seven years, three months, and five days,” Loki said, answering his own question. “Give or take a few days. I’m not sure if I should count my time in your dungeon or not.”

T: Though Mobius had never had a direct encounter with him, Thanos had a well-earned reputation of being one of the deadliest pirates in these waters. Entire crews disappeared when Thanos set his sights on them and there was never any rhyme or reason to who or why Thanos attacked. From what Mobius had heard, Loki had sailed under Thanos for a brief time when he was younger. Then he’d struck out on his own and Loki and Thanos had never crossed paths again, as far as Mobius knew. None of which would explain why Loki was reacting to Timely’s empty threats. Not that now was the time to ask.

H: “He’s going to get us killed, Mobius.”

“I am right here,” Loki said though Mobius didn’t hear the heat in his tone that bickering with Ravonna usually brought out of Loki.

“Not today,” Mobius insisted.

If you’d like to play, please consider this an open tag! Your word would be SAIL.

#my writing #lokius #pirates #loki #loki laufeyson #mobius m mobius #mobius #wip word game

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zayaanxsiddique · 10 days ago

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━ INTRODUCING ZAYAAN SIDDIQUE.

name: Zayaan Siddique

nickname: Zay

birthday: November 21st 1988

age: 37

gender: cis male

pronouns: He/Him

face claim: Fawad Khan

occupation: Race Promotor for MVZ

neighborhood: Golden Gates Terrace

hometown: Devil's Junction, IL

tldr; Zayaan Siddique, the 37-year-old eldest son of the Siddique family, is a meticulously polished race promoter overseeing the family’s elite horse racing division in Devil’s Junction. Despite his charm and overconfident exterior, he struggles with the pressure of living up to his family’s legacy—a role he never truly wanted, having secretly pursued a creative degree before returning to the business. He shares an interestingly, complicated relationship with his younger brother Zaviyar, and remains emotionally distant from Catriona and their baby daughter Lizeth, whom Catriona chose to raise on her own. Beneath his flawless facade, Zayaan is quietly yearning for authenticity and a life beyond the mask he wears.

b i o g r a p h y ;

Zayaan Siddique was born with legacy in his blood and pressure on his shoulders. The firstborn son of the Siddique family, he grew up in Devil’s Junction under the weight of expectation—groomed from childhood to inherit the reins of the family business. The suits were tailored before he could read, the rules laid out long before he had a chance to decide who he wanted to be. And yet, even then, Zayaan was different.

He didn’t rebel. He bargained. When the time came, he convinced his family to let him study design and brand strategy at university—a creative field he claimed would “add polish” to the family’s public face. They allowed it, assuming he'd eventually fall in line. And he did, on his own terms. He came back, degree in hand, sharper than ever—only now with an eye for aesthetics and storytelling. What they didn’t know was that Zayaan never planned to run the business the way his father had. He wanted to let his brother take over. Clearly Zaviyar wanted it. And so he stepped aside, abdicated—in a way.

These days, Zayaan works as a race promoter, the public face of the Siddique family’s horse racing operations. It’s a role that lets him play to his strengths—charm, precision, presentation—while keeping him at a careful remove from the darker sides of the business. He shakes hands, books events, smiles for cameras, and ensures the family's name stays polished, no matter what’s bleeding underneath.

He lives in Golden Gates, the gilded neighbourhood of Devil’s Junction, where the lawns are manicured and secrets stay politely buried. On paper, Zayaan’s life looks perfect. But perfection’s a cage when it’s not of your choosing.

His past with Catriona is one of those well-dressed secrets. A short-lived but intense fling, the kind that blurs the line between what was and what could’ve been. Catriona walked away before it got complicated—except it already was. Lizeth, their daughter, was born soon after. Zayaan never fought for custody. Maybe out of guilt. Maybe out of fear. Maybe because Catriona never gave him a chance. But every time he sees her in passing—the shape of her eyes, the way she tilts her head—he’s reminded of what he lost without ever really having.

Zayaan is meticulous, overconfident, and quietly judgmental. He plays the game well, perhaps too well. There’s a part of him that still wonders who he would’ve been without the script he was handed.

But wondering is a luxury, and Zayaan Siddique does not indulge in things that cannot be controlled.

He was built to lead. But whether he was meant to is a question he’s never been brave enough to ask.

And in Devil’s Junction, silence can be as loud as confession.

h e a d c a n o n s ;

Keeps a locked drawer filled with old design sketchbooks, mood boards, and concept branding work no one knows about.

Has a custom-tailored grooming routine and gets monthly facials — he considers it "professional upkeep".

Collects watches — vintage, modern, and obscure — each one carefully chosen for what it says about time, legacy, and control.

Has never called Catriona since the birth but keeps drafts of unsent messages on his phone, but he's sent gifts that he has no idea what she'd done with. They're always sent anonymously.

Hates mess but watches baby videos late at night, trying to understand what he’s missing.

Drinks neat whiskey while obsessively reorganizing his bookshelves when he’s stressed.

Has a luxury car he never drives—his daily is a more modest, controlled vehicle. He likes the illusion of humility.

Secretly follows design trends and independent artists on social media under a burner account.

Has a strained but polite relationship with his mother; his father expects too much, so Zayaan offers silence instead.

His wardrobe is 90% neutral tones — camel, navy, black, gray — with a couple of colourful items thrown in.

Sees himself in Zaviyar more than he likes, which makes him harsher with his brother.

c o n n e c t i o n s ;

A protégé – Someone younger or newer in the industry he mentors, maybe trying to mold them into the person he wishes he could be

A PR nightmare – A client, racer, or outsider who keeps messing up his carefully curated events and image

An unexpected friendship – Someone who doesn’t care about his last name or the empire he stands for, and sees the real Zayaan

A rival promoter or old university friend – Maybe from his creative days, reminding him who he used to be

A journalist or investigator – Who’s either sniffing around family secrets… or genuinely interested in Zayaan for who he is

A horse trainer or jockey – They could work under him and clash or connect in unexpected ways

A parental figure – Possibly a retired advisor or family elder who still believes Zayaan can break the mold

#devilsj.intro #devilsj.introduction #introduction.

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mysticstarlightduck · 1 year ago

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Character Intro - Aleks Keldora

════════════════════════════════════════════

☆ ・・About/General Info ・・☆

A master of disguises who is also a skilled hacker, Aleks Keldora initially became a thief to save his family's struggling business from bankruptcy but eventually continued on to become one the most successful intergalactic thieves in the whole planetary system, under the hacker alias of Wraith. His real identity was never, until the inciting incident of the main story, discovered by the Junction, as - with the aid of his high-tech mask, he could change his appearance however he liked. He became a master in the art of blackmail, disguises, and cracking high-profile security codes, making him a real threat to the officers of the Junction and even other galactic governments. He is also a member of Jack's crew. A prankster at heart, Aleks is the kind of friend who wants everyone around him to be happy and have a good time, but secretly struggles with a storm of anxiety inside his own mind.

════════════════════════════════════════════

☆・・More Info ・・☆

Pronouns - He/him, mainly Age - 21 Current Role - Part of the main cast Appearance - Aleks has short and curly hazel brown hair, which is usually rather messy, and he has tan, freckled skin. He is 5,6ft, or around 169cm, and is thin, though rather muscular. His usual, or favorite, outfit consists of a dark green bomber jacket, a simple long-sleeved shirt with or without a print, black or grey pants, and either sneakers or boots depending on his mood, but his outfit also changes a lot depending on whether or not he is using a disguise. He has greenish-hazel eyes and a playful smile.

Personality Types -

✶ Enneagram: 2w3

✶ MBTI: ENFP

Occupation: Hacker, tech whiz, master of disguises, blackmailer (blackmails the government quite often), technological shapeshifter (can basically shapeshift with tech). Species & Place of Birth: Human; Eoriah (planet) Sexuality: Pansexual

☆・・Extras・・☆

Character Playlist

The Kid That I Used to Know - Arrested Youth

Psycho - Broke City

Leave Me Alone - Adam Jensen

Lost Control - Alan Walker, Sorana

Copycat - GUMI, Circus-P

Anxiety - Besomorph, The Tech Thieves

And more!

・・・

✶ Tags:

#wip supernova initiative

#oc: aleks keldora

════════════════════════════════════════════

Supernova Initiative Taglist (-/+): @ray-writes-n-shit, @sarandipitywrites, @lassiesandiego, @smol-feralgremlin, @kaylinalexanderbooks,

@diabolical-blue @oh-no-another-idea

@cakeinthevoid, @clairelsonao3, @sleepy-night-child

@thepeculiarbird, @anyablackwood, @lyutenw

@the-golden-comet, @urnumber1star, @ominous-feychild, @amaiguri @lyutenw @finickyfelix

@elshells, @thecomfywriter

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

Source for moodboard pictures & music playlist: Pinterest & Spotify respectively

#wip supernova initiative #oc: aleks keldora #character intro #character introduction #character introduction post #writers #writers on tumblr #writing #writerblr #my wips #writeblr #character writing #my characters #my writing

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hoedamn-eron · 2 years ago

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baby, please - part 3

Santiago will probably be just another one night stand.

Warnings: 18+. Just 2.6k words of pure smut (first time ever writing it, please be nice). Fingering. Oral (F!Receiving). Protected P in V (or is it??? In all seriousness, wrap it before you tap it). Swearing. Word count: 2,681 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Part 2 ● Series Masterlist ● Part 4

You stumble into your apartment giggling, still feeling the effects of the wine from the restaurant, but mostly because Santiago’s lips were already glued to your neck, his hands on your hips as you lead him into your small hallway. His warm hands never left you as you manoeuvred yourselves to close and lock your front door. You didn’t fancy giving your neighbours a peep show.

You gasp as Santi pushes you against the now closed door, his hips grinding into you. You could already feel him through his pants, hard against you. His lips trail down your neck and meet the junction between your neck and shoulder, lips grazing against them as he muttered, “Bedroom?”

It takes all of your concentration to remind yourself to breathe, and reply with, “Second door on the left.”

Santi pulls away and looks at you, taking a moment. His eyes, as they meet yours, hold a mesmerizing depth that seems to draw you in. They are both intense and gentle, carrying a spark of curiosity and warmth that instantly puts you at ease. There's a sense of mystery in those eyes, as if they hold untold stories and a world of experiences waiting to be shared.

You let out a groan as you felt his hands slide down your waist to your thighs. You take the hint and jump, Santi catching you with ease before he wraps your legs around his waist, and his hands squeeze your ass.

“Santi!” you cried. “Your knees!”

“Fuck my knees.”

Your eyes close as your lips met with his, a groan simultaneously leaving you both. His lips were soft, and his tongue tasted like the last beer he’d thrown back before you left Bella Cucina. You felt the fire already coursing through your veins, and your heart was racing in your chest as you lightly pulled away from him.

“Santi…” you managed to sigh against his mouth. “I want…”

He cuts you off with a groan as he squeezes your ass again before giving it a smack.

“I want you too,” he gasped. Santi walked away from the door and into your apartment, towards your bedroom. He pauses as his foot finds one of your plant pots, knocking it over and dusting soil all over the floor. He pulled away from you suddenly and glances to the floor, hissing through his teeth at the mess. “Oh, shit, sorry – “

You were already shaking your head. “Don’t worry about it.”

You attached your lips to his again, his tongue pushing its way through your lips. He continued to your bedroom door, kicking it open, and practically throwing you on your bed. You bounce lightly, giggling as you lean back on your elbows and watch him with hooded eyes, biting your bottom lip.

He looks down at you, his gaze intense at your body stretched out on the bed, the sheets wrinkled and inviting. Despite the fact he had gone so fast in getting here, now that this was happening, he was slow, careful, obviously taking his time with you; he didn’t want things to be too rushed despite your desires. It's as if he had the ability to make you forget the world around you both, focusing solely on the moment with you.

“As much as I like this dress on you, hermosa,” Santi muttered, his voice deep and rough. “I’d love to see you out of it.”

He crawls over you, stopping at the hem of your dress. His strong, limber hands lift up your left leg to your thigh, then down to graze across you calves before he grabbed your boot, pulling it off and tossing it carelessly on the floor. He followed the same route on your right leg, the thump of the final boot loud throughout the room. You smiled up at him as his hands travelled back up your body, moving to the hem of your dress. He lifted it up slightly, placing light kisses on the inside of your thighs, causing you to groan and rake a hand through his hair, something you were aching to do as soon as he met you at the table in the restaurant.

Santiago moaned at the shivers that ran down his spine. “This’ll be short if you’re going to keep doing that.”

You bit you lip as you grinned, giving his hair a tug again, being praised with the same moan to slip from his lips. You let out another gasp as he hooks his hands around your underwear and rips them from your body, literally, and disposing of the remains of your favourite pair of panties across the room. You yelp as he roughly threw both of your thighs over his shoulders and settles himself in between your legs, looking at your core.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy, cariño.”

Oh shit, no-one has ever spoken to you like that before. You’re probably dripping on the bed as his words alone. Your nerves felt like they were on fire, and you were about to practically beg the man to do something, but you were cut off by his mouth pitching forward to lap his tongue up your seam, tasting you. You weren’t sure the noise you made was human when his tongue swiped through your folds, and he wasted no time in sinking two fingers into your throbbing pussy, pumping his fingers at a steady pace.

This man was a God. There was no way he was this good. You’re close already, pleasure flowing through your veins. Santi looks up at you from his place between your legs, his tongue lapping away at you in long, hot strokes. Your mouth falls open at the look in his eyes; his pupils were blown with pleasure, and you weren’t ignorant to the fact that Santi was rutting his hips into your bed.

That was hot.

“Fuck,” you cry, throwing your head back as the Adonis at your pussy curled his fingers within you. “Santi, that’s so…fuck, that’s so good, please…”

You weren’t sure what you were asking for, all you could think was that he needed to keep doing what he was doing with his fingers. And his mouth. And his eyes, is it normal for anyone to look at you so intently when eating you out?

Your hips thrust upward, trying to get just a little bit more friction, but Santi’s arm coming over your hips and pressing down forced your movements to stop. “Stay still, you need to cum on my face,” he muttered against you before wrapping his lips around your clit to suck roughly.

Your orgasm was coming and coming quickly. The pleasure rising and growing with each pump of Santi’s fingers and each swipe of his tongue, each move thought out carefully. It was as if he knew your body as well as you did. You were a moaning mess, your back arching as he continued his unrelenting pace, dark eyes watching your face contort with each moan of his name.

“That’s it,” cooed Santi. “You’re taking my fingers so well, cariño. Are you going to cum for me?”

That did it. With his movements and his tone full of praise, your climax tipped easily, and you let out a long, high-pitched whine as you let yourself go. The waves of pleasure crash over you, your senses, making you barely aware that Santi was now gently lapping at you, muttering praises against your throbbing cunt. You let out a small sigh as he touches you so gently.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” his breathes hotly into your thighs.

“Santi…” you sigh, finally looking down at him. He looks up at you with raised eyebrows, causing you to grin. “You’re wearing too much.”

Santi grinned. “So are you.”

You both scramble to sit up, stripping down until you were both naked and panting. You stared at each other, the room feeling cool against your heated skin. Santi was well built, not overly muscled with a little bit of softness on his waist, but he could obviously throw you around with little effort if he wanted to. He had a few faded scars scattered around, which you guessed was from his days in the army. He was perfect.

Your eyes lower to his dick. It was a little darker than the rest of his body, the head red. Erect and up against his stomach, his cock twitched involuntarily, searching for a cunt to bury itself in. Yours, hopefully. Definitely yours.

Santi joined you on the bed, cupping your cheeks and bringing you into a kiss. You groan as you get a hint of yourself on his tongue, your hands resting on his forearms. He impressively manoeuvres you with little separation, so he’s lying on your bed, and brings you over his lap, causing you to straddle him.

His pulls away and places his hands on your hips. He looks down at his cock rolling against your seam, his head catching at your clit. You gasped before bringing your lips back to Santiago’s, meeting them roughly before going to his jaw, then his neck, grazing your teeth down the skin. Santiago leaned back against your pillows, giving you access to that spot where his neck met his shoulder.

“Marking me, hermosa?” Santiago asked breathlessly as you sucked at his skin, leaving a purple mark on the bottom of his neck.

You hum a small, confirming laugh, before lifting yourself up to look at him. You watched his dark eyes become almost black as his pupils dilated in pure lust for you. The look Santiago gave you was gasoline to your already burning nerves, and he pulled you down to him, kissing you feverishly. Your hips ground against each other, your bodies growing hot and your kisses breathless against one another as your moans and groans overtook you.

“Fuck,” Santiago breathed, moaning your name. “Condom?”

“Bedside drawer,” you reply, leaning over to said beside drawer and opening it, digging around for the usual open box of condoms.

You felt Santiago smirk against your skin, as he kissed lines around your breasts, easy to do at the angle you were at, latching onto one of your nipples and licking at the sensitive bud while you rummaged in your drawer. You moaned, pressing up against him. “Oh, shit, Santi,” you gasped. Santiago switched over to you other breast, and you were so turned on, you felt you could cum again from his ministrations. Your hands wrapped around a foil wrapper, pulling it out the drawer and looking down at him. He smirked back up at you, and you pulled him up by his hair to kiss him again. He groaned against your lips, his hands trailing from you breast down to your waist. One hand dipped below, and he just barely swiped over you core.

“You’re so wet for me, hermosa,” he whispered, and pressed his fingers back into you briefly.

“Santi, I need you,” you moaned, bringing him into another kiss. “Please just fuck me.”

Santi nodded against your lips as his removed his fingers, taking the condom from you. You leaned back as he ripped open the packet and pulled out the condom before rolling it down on himself. He groaned as he gave himself a few pumps, his eyes closing momentarily before opening them again and looking at you, nodding. You moved yourself back over him, grinding yourself against him before you lift yourself up, grabbing his cock and sinking yourself down onto him slowly.

You moaned at the feeling of how full you were. You sat fully on top of him, bottoming out. Santi squeezing his eyes closed as he willed himself not to move, hissing as you squeezed around him.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you managed to gasp, tipping you head back. “You feel so big. Make me feel so full.”

Santi let out a guttural moan as he grasped onto your hips, hold you so hard that you were sure he was going to leave bruises. You couldn’t find it in you to care. Slowly you pulled yourself up, sinking back down onto him again. Hot spikes of pleasure made your thigh muscles tense uncontrollably, but you didn’t want to ride too fast and give him the satisfaction of seeing you cum so soon. Your walls tightened around his cock causing a loud whimper to slip from your mouth.

“You feel so good,” Santiago groaned. “So fucking tight.”

“Fuck me, Santi, please,” you cry, your hands landing on his chest.

Santiago sat up and ran his hands down to your ass, grabbing it hard. He pulled you up and down on his dick, fingers pressing hard into your skin as you cried out in animalistic noises at the feeling of him sliding in and out of you. The coil in your stomach was tightening rapidly as your gripped onto his shoulders, digging your nails in harshly, leaving crescent moons into his skin.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Santi all but growled into your ear.

“I’m going to…” you whimpered as his hands moved to your hips. The rhythmic sound of slapping skin fell in rhythm with your frantic breathing. His fingers dug in painfully, but it sent shockwaves to your heat as he bounced you on his cock, bucking up to meet you. “Faster, Santi, please.”

Santiago gasped as he rolled his hips into you, speeding up a bit more but making sure he stayed deep. You felt his pubic bone grind amazingly against your clit with every thrust, and it felt so Goddamn good. This was possibly the best you’d ever had, and if it hadn’t been abundantly clear that this was only a one-time thing, you would have permanently kept this amazing man strapped to your bed. It wouldn’t be anything else but this with Santiago. You kissed him slowly, deeply, catching both of your moans, and especially as Santiago put a bit more force behind his thrusts – not to hurt you, but to hit you deeper, and it worked. He brushed up against your g-spot, and it made your legs shake and your back arch, your chest meeting his. You squeezed down on him with each thrust, making him moan shakily into the hollow of you neck.

“I-I’m not…shit, hermosa, I need you to cum with me,” Santiago all but begged, his hips still pressing into you, and the feel of him inside you and the tone of his words brought you to orgasm as he reached his finish at the same time. Santiago tensed below you, pulsing inside of you as he thrusted his hips into you, his forehead on your shoulder as he groaned into your hot skin. Your vision faded, and white-hot sparks shot from all over, sending pins and needles right down to the tips of your fingers. You ran your hands through his hair before pulling him towards you and kissing him sloppily as you rode out each other’s peaks. You swallowed his moans, your hips slowly moving against him.

You pulled away eventually, needing to breathe. You rest your forehead against Santiago’s as you breathed against his lips, your movements slowing before stopping. He slowly pulled out of you with a groan, burying his face back into your neck, panting heavily.

“You okay?” you asked breathlessly. You felt your skin warm in embarrassment. What kind of question was that?

Santiago snorted before chuckling into your skin. He pulls away and looks up at you, a gentle look on his face as he gives you a smile. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

You giggled. “Sorry. It’s been a while since I’ve had any human interaction other than my work colleagues.”

Santi laughed and leaned in and kissed you, a little more gently than before. You hummed before letting out a small scream as Santiago flipped you over, him hovering over you. You bit your lip as you felt him hardening inside of you again, his hips slowly and shallowly rocking against your used walls.

“Well in that case, I supposed I’ll just have to stay a little longer.”

#triple frontier #santiago garcia x reader #santiago x reader #santiago garcia #oscar isaac #pregnant!reader #santiago garcia x f!reader

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