#lewis pullman characters

You were curled in the same position you had fallen asleep in the night before–with your arms wrapped around his bare torso, and your warm cheek pressed against his chest–and you were in this peaceful state of slumber. Every inch of your face was relaxed without the lick of exhaustion that had overtaken your features last night, and he was relieved you were getting the rest you needed after such a chaotic weekend of events–and being dragged from circuit to circuit without a break. 

Your warmth was radiating through the thin cotton of his shirt you were wearing, but there was something distinct that he could feel–something wet dripping onto the thick muscle of his thigh. You hadn’t worn panties to bed last night, that was something he could remember because he had commented on it, teasingly asking you if you wanted to have a sleepy fuck session, but you had been too tired and you had told him that in a thinned voice. So he had settled on holding you, and thinking about the impending moment he would be able to be inside you again. 

Now though, he could feel your arousal pooling against the soft hairs that riddled his skin, and it was a slow continuous seep that left trails over anywhere your core touched. It seemed to gush out of you with every small shift of breath that left your mouth, and it was as if the dreams that were going on in that head of yours had defiled your mind and conquered your body to react to it in this erotic, lust-driven way.

A soft moan escaped your throat as he shifted his thigh up to press harder against your folds, and he glanced down at you to see that your eyes were still closed, heavy against your cheeks–even though your hips jerked towards him to smear your arousal over the thick warm muscle, marking him. 

Rhett let out a stuttered breath at your movements, and he could feel his belly stirring as his cock thickened and twitched inside his thin boxer shorts–tenting the fabric as it pressed against the curve of your stomach. His hand slid down your side, tracing the curve of your body before settling on your hip, giving the softness a small squeeze–drawing another moan from your lips, louder than the last. You were still wrapped up in the vines of your slumber, caught somewhere between the dream you were having and the slow pull of waking, and every small movement of your body only seemed to feed whatever was happening behind those pretty eyelids of yours–but it your unconsciousness was weening, he could feel it. 

You shifted your hips again, and the swollen bud of your clit dragged down his thigh–the hardened pearl covered by soft tissue catching the hairs on his flesh–and the sensation nearly sucked the air out of his lungs and left him heaving for oxygen. It felt too good to brush off, and the urge to do something was burning wildly throughout his entirety. He needed you–needed to taste the sweetness that was being wasted on his thigh, to shove his face between your legs and wake you up with his tongue fucking your aching core, and he was going to make sure he would have that, no matter what.

He could smell you–that rich, musky scent that always rose to his nostrils when you were this wet, mixing with the clean scent of the soap you had lathered on each other from last night’s shared shower, and the faint salt on of his own skin. It made his mouth water, and made his cock twitch hard enough that the head of him nudged insistently against your soft stomach.

There had been mornings when he woke up to the wet heat of your mouth already around him, with your tongue working lazily and greedily in long strokes over the head of his cock as you allowed him to come out of his slumber and be greeted to the most wonderful spit filled warmth. But now he wanted to turn the tables and drag you out of your sleep with his tongue buried inside you–to let you have this euphoric moment of realization that he was lapping at your core with the hunger of a man that only wanted the taste of his lover’s arousal. 

Carefully, he eased his thigh out from between yours, and you made a soft sound of protest at the loss of pressure, hips chasing the contact for a second before stilling again–like your mind was fully aware of what was happening and went into autopilot. He waited for a moment, watching the rise and fall of your chest, until your breathing evened once more–and then he moved, taking that as his cue. Gently, he pressed his palm against your hip and rolled you onto your back, feeling your arms slipping free from him and falling open against the mattress like dead weight. A tiny snore huffed out of you as your head tipped to the side lazily, and the sound pulled a quiet, private laugh from his chest, as he pushed the thin sheets down and off your bodies–revealing how his shirt had pushed higher up your torso, exposing your sternum and the soft undersides of your breasts. 

On top of everything, your legs had also fallen open, with one knee bent outward and the other stretched long over the mattress, and between them your core glistened in the grey light–swollen and flushed, with the soft puffy lips spreading just enough so he could see the wetness of your inner folds. Arousal had gathered at your entrance, slipping free and trailing down the crease of your ass before seeping into the sheets below you. It was a godly sight to behold–heavenly in every sense of the word–and Rhett’s mouth went dry as he tried to consider where to start, because there was so much of you he wanted to taste before rewarding himself with your delicious, honey-like sweetness. 

He adjusted himself–placing his body between your legs–then descended upon your stomach, letting his tongue run along the softness of it, tasting the clean sweat that laid there, leaving a trail of saliva as he moved down lower, rounding your navel with such precision that it made your belly twitch. He smirked at the parasomnia’s your body seemed to have taken up, and traced a path of kissed down until he reached your pubic bone–nipping at the delicate flesh there–before shifting around so he settled his body weight onto the mattress, feeling it dip beneath him, and guiding your legs to rest over his shoulders and splay out along his back. It was the perfect position to keep you open to him, and with that came a far better view of your core.

You were coated in your arousal, and your clit stood out in a small shiny peak that seemed to throb with every beat of your pulse. When his gaze travelled lower, he could see the way your entrance fluttered once in a tiny, involuntary clench, as if even in sleep your body already knew it was under his watchful eyes, and he smiled at that, pressing an open mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh. 

His stubble scratched along your skin as he licked and sucked marks into your flesh, watching them bloom after every ministration, then he turned to biting ever so slightly to leave the sharp indentations of his teeth, before finally reaching your core. He took in a deep breath, letting your scent fill his lungs while his mouth watered, and he leaned in to brush his lips over you, so the heat of his breath could wash the wetness, cooling it momentarily. You stirred, a soft sound catching in your throat, and he looked up through his lashes to see that your eyes were still closed. Then he dragged the flat of his tongue in one long, slow stroke from your entrance all the way up to the swollen bud of your clit, letting out a moan of relief at how you suffocated his tastebuds with that tangy, salty sweetness that dripped so generously from your core. 

He wanted to bury his face in it–to drink you down until you were the only thing that filled him–but that would only distract from the pleasure he was meaning to give you. So he shifted onto his elbows, and settled more firmly between your thighs, refocusing on his task. He took your clit between his lips and sucked carefully, letting the tip of his tongue slip beneath the soft hood of it to find the hardened little peak of nerves. He pressed there, held it for a few seconds, then began to circle it in a tight, unhurried pattern that  made your whole body answer to him.

Your thighs trembled against the sides of his head, and you stirred beneath him–hands searching blindly until your fingers found the flattened waves of his soft hair at the nape of his neck and closed tight. A shuddered whine left your throat, and he felt the exact moment your body truly registered what was happening–how your hips lifted in a slow, seeking pool that dragged your core across his mouth, forcing his tongue to part your fold and sink deeper into the wet vast heat of you.

The room filled with the soft, filthy music of it: the wet slide of his mouth, the quiet helpless sounds that broke from you each time he pressed a little further, the low hungry grunts that were rising from his own chest. It was a symphony of pleasure and he was the conductor at the helm. 

He slipped one hand beneath you, cupping the soft weight of your ass and squeezing it before tilting your hips upward so he could bury his face into you until he could barely breathe. His tongue pushed inside your clenching entrance, feeling the soft walls part and flutter around him as he fucked into that heat and pressed his nose hard against your clit, nuzzling it with the bulbous tip. 

You were so wet at this point that thick strands of your arousal began to drip down his chin, mixing with his own saliva before soaking into the sheets beneath you, and his cock twitched violently at the sensation under the press of his body against the mattress–the head of his cock leaking enough that a pool of precum soaked the front of his boxers.

He could hear your breathing change, morphing from the calm, even rhythm of sleep into something faster that was broken up by soft gasps and the quiet, desperate whimpers that interwoven themselves through every inhale. His free hand came to splay out across your belly, pressing you down into the mattress in an attempt to keep you from squirming, and he could feel the fine tremors that tightened the muscles there. He gazed up at you, noticing the way your head was tilting back and forth against the pillow–like you were thrashing in the throws of a dream you couldn’t escape–yet he found himself wanting your eyes to be on his when you came, that was the only way he would be able to feel the impact of what he had done.

He pulled back just far enough to speak against your twitching core, his voice rough and warm against the soaked flesh.

“Wake up for me, baby…I know you can feel it.” Your fingers tensed in his hair, pulling harder at the strands they were tangled in, before he sealed his mouth over you again and worked into you with everything he had–sucking, licking, and thrusting his tongue deeper so he could taste every fresh rush of arousal that spilled from you, so not a single drop went to waste. Your hips jerked hard against his face, and a full, broken moan tore out of you as your eyes finally fluttered open.

The haziness of sleep still clung to your features, softening them to a point that you nearly fell back asleep, but a glossy sheen was shimmering around your pupils from the pleasure he was pouring into you, and he watched the exact second your mind caught up to what was happening–recognizing and taking in all the sensations.

When your gaze dropped to his, you let out a whine at the sight of him, seeing his face already messy with your arousal, with his pupils blown so wide the oceanic blue of his irises had nearly disappeared. He smiled against your core and buried himself deeper into the slick heat, relishing the way your mouth fell open and your other hand joined the first to fist in his hair.

“Fuck, Rhett…” You whispered hoarsely, as he thrusted his tongue inside you once more before pulling out and replacing it with two thick fingers so he could suck on your clit. The digits stretched you open, curling upward to find the spongy, rigid spot inside you that made your eyes roll and your back arch toward him. His tongue worked the swollen nub between his lips–flicking, circling, and drawing it deeper into the wet heat of his mouth in a rhythm that bordered on animalistic. It was an assault on every nerve you had, completely overwhelming but perfect, and you found yourself thinking you could wake up like this every morning of your life and never grow tired of it.

Your walls clenched around his fingers, pulsing frantically as fresh arousal spilled across his hand. His hips began to grind against the mattress in answer, seeking any relief from the heavy ache that twisted low in his belly. He grunted, and the vibration rolled straight through you, your thighs flexing hard against his wet cheeks, locking him in place as he moved with your body, refusing to let you pull away too soon. 

The sounds escaping the both of you intertwined into echoes of pleasure, and the more you squirmed beneath him, the more aware he became of how close you were to the edge. He pulled off your clit with a wet pop, lapping at it with the flat of his tongue.

“Desperate little thing…You were so wet I couldn’t resist getting a taste…Now you’re holdin’ back, huh?” You let out a little moan in response, as his fingers picked up speed–thrusting inside you and dragging over the same rigid spot over and over again–and you could feel your stomach tying in knots at the pressure that was threatening to explode through you. He wrapped his lips around your clit again, suckling it and caressing it, until your body arched off the bed and a shuddering wave washed through you. Your walls clamped tightly around his fingers and a slick gush poured out from you, as your orgasm finally crested and the tension from it seized your muscles. His hips stuttered mid-grind, falling out of the rhythm he had set and he felt himself cum, as ropes and ropes of his hot spend painted his lower belly. He grunted and moaned against you, nuzzling his face into you to smear the new gush of arousal across his skin. He pulled his fingers out and let your clit go, licking the glossy sheen you left on the digits clean, before moving down to drink it straight from the source.

A cry escaped you as his tongue slipped in, curling and twitching so he could feel every pulse, until you dropped back down against the mattress–breathing hard and feeling like a tingling numb mess. He sucked and licked, cleaning you off so nothing went to waste, and finally, when he deemed he was done, he pulled back to look up at you, nuzzling his soaked face against your inner thigh and pressing a wet kiss there.

“How was that?” He asked, humbly proud of his work when he saw how utterly wrecked you looked. One hand untangled from his hair and you brought your arm up to shield your eyes as you let out a little laugh.

“Fucking fantastic…What ailed you to wake me up like this?” He smirked, nipping at the sensitive marks he had left on your skin.

“I wasn’t lyin’ when I said you were so wet I couldn’t resist getting a taste…You were practically grindin’ on me in your sleep.” You hummed, moving your arm slightly to peek down at him.

“Guess I was having a really good dream.” You commented and he let out a little laugh.

“And it came true.” He added, watching as you nodded.

“That it did…You do know that I’m going to expect to wake up to this every morning now, right?” He shrugged, letting his eyes roam over the length of your body hungrily. 

Even as you grew up, you never understood what it was like to be human. To be a real human. You weren’t aware of your origins at the time but you didn’t have to be to know that you acted differently than others.

That feeling made you want to turn away, to run from Sowell Bay and start life anew. 

But that wouldn’t solve anything, would it? You’d still be different compared to everyone else. Back when you were a bullied kid, if you were granted the knowledge that you had now, you’d probably make peace with the fact that you’d dissolve into foam to be with the sea again. It wasn’t even that you yearned for the ocean either. You just wanted a sense of belonging. Some place that didn’t treat you like an oddity or something that shouldn’t exist.

And you got that. Through Cameron. A friend who quickly became something more. The man who unintentionally got you in the position you were in. Because of your love for him, you could die, dissolve into foam and never be seen again as you return back to your original form. 

It’s how things should be.

And maybe that’s what you would have thought before you met him. 

You were so eager to help him with everything. Finding Simon Brinks, helping him with Avery, you prioritized his happiness above all. Even if it was slowly killing you, even if it was slowly driving a wedge between you two. In a strange way, you soon realized that it was selfish to be so selfless. 

And at the end of the day, you became a blank slate to him. He barely knew anything about you. The face he made when you last spoke, his heartbroken reaction when you couldn’t say a single thing to him. 

“Tell me something. Anything. Get me to stay without any half assed promises. Without changing the subject.” His eyes well up too. “Say something.”

He wanted you to fight for him to stay. But you hid, you ran and so did he.

You didn’t want to live like that anymore. 

There was one being you needed to see. It is only him that could grant you the closure you so desperately needed. 

Fortunately for you, you didn’t have to walk far. Marcellus was by the door, lacking his color despite being in a bucket of water. He was next to Tova, her eyes welled with tears yet still looked understanding and resigned. 

“Tova? Is he okay? I- Is Marcellus-?”

“He wants to go home.” The words were so simple and soft and you still flinched once they left her mouth. You assumed that made sense. Why wouldn’t it? Marcellus’ home was the vast ocean. He didn’t belong here. He belonged there. 

You couldn’t help but tear up alongside Tova. He’s been with you ever since you were a child. When Sowell Bay treated you like an outcast, he was the only one you could speak to about why you were so different. He understood you well. 

“Can I talk to him, Tova?” Your voice was so small. It was like you were brought back to that field trip when you found out why you were so different from the rest, why you always felt alien to everyone around you.

You felt horrible when Tova started to cry even more. She saw your fragile state, she saw how little you looked, how your voice wavered. Perhaps she couldn’t help but see that girl you once were too.

“Of course, take your time.” She stands up and leaves to find another bucket to place Marcellus in. When you were sure she was gone, you sat next to the octopus, staring off into space.

You clutched the book in your hands. There was so much you wanted to ask. So much you wanted to say but your words failed to escape you.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet. I take this to mean something has changed?” 

God, you missed the sound of Marcellus’ voice. It felt like a warm blanket around you while you were shaking cold. 

Your voice shakes. After the rollercoaster of emotions that you felt these past few days, these past few hours even, all you could do was whisper in a broken voice to the only person who knows who you are.

“Do you think I going to die?”

“It seems your years as a human caused you inherit their intellect,” the octopus responds. “Of course not.”

You felt like you wanted to cry out of frustration. How could he know what your fate was? How could he know that you could stop it?

And why did you want him to be right?

“Do you know of this book, Marcellus?” You showed it to him. “It’s the story of Elliot Green and his brother. His brother fell in love with a human woman then he turned into foam. Mermaids were never supposed to fall in love with humans. We always meant to protect them, have their best interests at heart.” You look up at the ceiling and let out a sorrowful laugh.

“I’m in love with Cameron. I’m probably going to die because of it.” It sounded strange to say it out loud but it was the truth. “I don’t want to die. I don’t want to run away. I want to keep living. I want to live.”

So how do I do it?

“You are not going to die.” Marcellus said to you. He sounded so confident like stating a simple fact. “I’m may not sure of those stories but i’m aware of merpeople turning into seafoam. From my knowledge, once they are reborn, they don’t have any love for humans at all. None of them last after.”

You wince so if you were to die and be reborn, not only would you grow to hate humans but you’d end up dying permanently after anyway. 

“I don’t particularly care about why it happens but if I were to make a guess, it’s because of how they viewed themselves.” You blink in confusion. “You’re right about one thing. They care more about humans than themselves.”

“Yeah, that’s what you told me. It’s what I’ve believed all this time.”

“That man likely viewed his love as unobtainable because he believed he wasn’t human. He didn’t think he was worthy of a human’s love because he wasn’t supposed to love a human.” You freeze. His words started to sink in your mind. “His body became what is mind believed he was. He simply didn’t believe he was real.” 

“Then- then how does that help me? How do I… not turn into foam?” You question. “What? Do I just have to… believe that I’m real? That I’m human?” 

“As absurd as it sounds. Yes.” You wanted to scoff. The answer couldn’t be that easy, could it? With everything you’ve been feeling. It lined up with the symptoms that Elliot’s brother had experienced. “That’s how I know you won’t turn into foam. You and I both know that you’re a human. Not a mermaid. Not anything other than a normal, remarkable human. There’s nothing to worry about.”

You couldn’t find the words to respond. You knew you were a human. Was that enough? Did you have to prove it?

Did it even matter?

You felt yourself getting a headache just thinking about it. You let out a breath. “So I won’t see you again, will I?” 

“No. Probably not.”

“I’ll really miss you.” Your voice shakes. It’ll be strange, seeing another octopus in Marcellus’ old tank. He’s been a consistent figure in his life for so long and you didn’t know how to deal with not seeing him again. Change was terrifying for you. 

But then again… A bittersweet smile graced your face. “I guess we both have to go home.”

“Good luck. I meant what I said before. I enjoyed your company. I’ll have to get used to not seeing you around.” You’re not sure if he meant it like that but you took it as his own way of saying i’ll miss you. It made your smile widen.

Tova comes back and moves Marcellus to a mop bucket. You look up at her, your face filled with sympathy. She was with him the longest. It must hurt the most for her. “Will you be okay?”

“I think so.” She mirrors your smile, wiping some tears away from your face. “Everyone has to go home eventually.”

She wheeled Marcellus away. You turn your back on them. You said your goodbyes and you had a new goal in your mind. And maybe a part of you did it so you didn’t have to see him go. 

You begin to make your way out of the aquarium. It went unnoticed at the time but you couldn’t hear Marcellus anymore. 

Perhaps that was the final goodbye.

———

Upon rereading Elliot Green’s tale multiple times, you noticed one key thing. Elliot’s brother dissolved into seafoam the moment he made contact with a body of water. You approach the sea near the aquarium. The sight was beautiful when accompanied by the night sky. 

You think back to Marcellus’ words. How the reason why merpeople turn into seafoam was that they were convinced that they weren’t good enough for humans. They put them on such a high pedestal that they can’t reach so their bodies made sure they never can. When praising a person so much, you neglect oneself. 

Was that the reason why you felt under the weather? Have you been neglecting yourself because you kept on putting Cameron first?

I’m not surprised. We really do love anyone over ourselves. 

You stare into the sea, your legs working on their own. You weren’t sure if what you were doing was even a good idea. You could dissolve anyway. Maybe Marcellus was wrong. Maybe you were wrong. 

Despite that, despite everything, you didn’t stop moving. Not until your body was submerged in the deep waters. You close your eyes, take a breath then let your body go under.

It was nostalgic in a way. You remember almost drowning. You got pulled out because you were trying to escape, to prove you were a mermaid so that you could finally find out why you felt like something was missing.

This time was different. You were proving that you were a human.

That you were real.

I’m real. 

It was a mantra that played like a broken record.

Maybe you were crazy, maybe this was a side effect of whatever sickness or problem you were dealing with.

But by the heavens above, you believed it. You were real. You are real. You are a human.

You deserve to live.

This was your home. Not the sea. But the bay. 

And you were quickly proven right when you get forcibly dragged back up by a familiar set of arms. You hear heavy panting next to you as this person moved your body to the shore. You cough out water while you hear someone panting above you. They had you pinned to the ground, your fingers intertwining. 

You squint your eyes open just a bit. It was Cameron, his eyes filled with fear and confusion. “Shit… did I hurt you? Fuck, sorry. I thought you- after what happened- What the hell are you doing swimming at this hour?”

“You came back,” you smile softly. “I’m glad you’re back.”

Usually, it’d be the mermaid saving the human but it’s the other way around now. No, not a mermaid anymore. It’s just two normal people saving each other. That isn’t nearly as exciting. And there wasn’t really anything to save. I would have been fine.

But that’s what Marcellus said, wasn’t it? You were just a normal, remarkable human. You’ve never felt happier. You give him a hug, he returns it albeit hesitantly. 

“Are you okay?” He questions, holding you tighter. “You’ve been acting so weird lately. Were you trying to-“

“Yeah, I’m okay now.” You bury your face in his neck.  “Or… well, I’m trying to be. I just wanted to feel… like a real person. Sorry if I made you worry. Though, to be fair, i went to a shallow part, i wouldn’t really have drowned-“

Cameron pulls back. His eyes scanning you like he couldn’t believe that you just said that. “You don’t have to do that to feel something,” he says firmly. 

“I know.” You lie down on the shore, looking at the stars. “I feel like… throughout most of my life, i felt like I had something to prove. That I was normal. That I was a real person and not some made up legend.” 

He moves off of you and lies down as well. “Yeah, you’ve told me that before. You’re still pretty normal to me.”

“Thanks, Cameron.” You shake your head. “You were right. I really don’t tell you anything, do I?” 

He chuckles, nodding. “Yup, but you never had to though. I get it if you want to keep things a secret.”

“I was a mermaid,” you blurted out. “There was this tale around the bay where kids would get lured into sea and would get swapped with a mermaid who grows legs when the kid is sacrificed. I was one of them apparently. It’s why I was so different.” He thinks you’re playing it off as a joke and you technically were. But you were still being honest, you wanted someone else to know even if he didn’t believe it at all.

“Of all you could tell me, you tell me that?”

You shrug. “You said you wanted to know.”  

He brings out a ring with the word EELS carved on it. You felt your heart skip a beat. He toys with it between his fingers. “Just found out today that Tova’s family. Turns out this ring that was with my mom was her son’s.”

“We just letting out secrets, Cassmore?” 

“You started it,” he points out.

“Well, let me tell you another one.” You sit up, looking straight at him. You’ve never felt more sure of anything in your life. 

“I love you.” 

A beat passes. For a moment, you’re scared that you’ve done something wrong. You’re worried you ruined everything, that it was the wrong time and your love was unrequited. You’d much prefer turning into seafoam now.

Then his lips met your forehead, then your cheek, then they finally stopped for a quick peck on yours. He squeezes your hand and pulls back with a smile. He ruffles your hair and pulls you up.

“Come on. I’m giving you a ride home.” 

Your expression softened. Just like Marcellus, you’re not quite sure if he means it but in your mind, you like to take his actions as a way of him showing his love for you.

Tonight, Bob had swung open the door before you even managed to knock with an expression that was almost deceptively mild, even though his heart had been galloping for the past hour as he paced his bedroom and listened for your specific soft footsteps that would pad down the hall when things in the Watchtower got quiet enough. 

His hair had still been damp from the shower he took after training, his light-brown strands falling in loose waves around his face and curling slightly against the back of his neck where they were still drying–distinctly darker from the water that still remained there. He wore a faded navy t-shirt that was spotted with barely noticeable droplets, and a pair of thin plaid pyjama pants to compensate for his temperature. It made him look casual–domestic even–so much so that anyone else might have mistaken him for a harmless man who didn’t harness any power apart from being a nice, down to Earth person.

But you had known better–everyone did.

The door had barely clicked shut behind you before his hands were on your waist, pulling you towards him and digging firmly into your hips, making sure your body was flush against him. His mouth descended on yours just as you opened it to speak, and the kiss he gave you contradicted every meek glance he had given you throughout the evening–every moment he had looked away too quickly whenever your eyes met across the common room. 

His teeth caught your lower lip, biting down just hard enough to make your breath hitch, and he swallowed that sound as his head tilted to deepen the kiss before either of you could steal enough air to form clear thoughts. Your arms weaved around his neck and your fingers found the damp strands of hair at the nape, feeling the wetness sinking into the pads of them as you tugged, earning a small groan from Bob. His grip contracted around your hips, gathering the fabric of your shirt in his fists, pressing harder against you, and the thin cotton of his pyjama pants did little to hide how thoroughly the simple tug had affected him–feeling the semi-hardness of his length pressing into your belly. 

He began moving you backward through the room, guiding you toward his bed without ever fully lifting his mouth from yours. Every step he took forward forced one from you in return, and he kept you steady whenever you stumbled, making sure your movements never faltered. You opened your mouth to him when his tongue traced the seam of your lips, letting the kiss turn wet and uncoordinated as your tongues met sloppily. His breath grew uneven, spilling hot across your skin whenever an awkward angle forced your mouths apart, but neither of you seemed capable of tolerating the separation. Because each time you broke away, Bob followed.

His nose brushed yours, his mouth finding the corner of your lips, then your jaw, giving you a moment to catch your breath, before returning to your mouth with renewed insistence. He kissed you with the hunger of someone who had spent lifetimes denying himself of even the smallest touch, despite the fact that it had been less than twenty-four hours since he had last held you in this exact room, and you relished in the fact that he wanted you so badly that he could barely control himself.

When the backs of your knees struck the soft edge of the mattress you fell down onto it and Bob followed you without hesitation–not wanting the kiss to break–his body hunching as he put his knee between yours so your legs could come up to frame his hips, feeling your ankles locking behind his lower back, urging him to climb on with you. He pushed your body up the mattress by your hips, messing up the uniformity of his duvet in the process, and when he was satisfied with the space he created, he joined you.

The bed dipped beneath your combined weight, its springs giving a quiet protest as he settled between your thighs and moved one of his hands from your hip to brace beside your head so he wouldn’t crush you completely beneath him. It was a thoughtful gesture, something that he never failed to miss because he knew that while he looked meek, beneath all his clothes he had the body of a god–and the power of one to boot. 

He didn’t want to risk hurting you in any way, especially when there was always the fragile line the two of you toed when it came to these fleeting moments of intimacy. He thankfully never lost control, but it didn’t mean that he never felt Sentry trying to break through the surface any time you touched him, or kissed him, or moaned quietly in his ear when he was inside you–when you were trying to keep the rest of the Watchtower from hearing the desperate noises that escaped either of you–or when he would cum inside you and bite your shoulder to muffle his grunts and the wave of power that coursed through his veins like an inferno that couldn’t be put out. Even through the struggle though, he still managed to push Sentry down, just so he could keep these moments exclusively between the two of you.

His hand slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, palm gliding over the soft bare skin of your waist. The heat of him was searing against yours as he ran his thumb slowly along the curve of your stomach before finding the lace trim of your underwear–tracing it without dipping beneath the material. The denial of his touch felt deliberate, and just as you raised your hips to attempt to seek some sort of friction Bob pressed his hips firmly between your thighs to hold you still–pinning you down on the mattress to keep you from squirming. His rough thumb skimmed the lace again, hearing you whine against his mouth at the teasing, as your stomach clenched at the burning urge to fight against the weight he had on your body.

You pulled the hair at the nape of his neck again, dragging your nails along his scalp in an attempt to even out the score, hearing a strained, involuntary moan breaking his throat and vibrating through your mouth, as his body tensed above you, and his hand tightened hard enough on your hip to promise faint bruises along your skin by the morning. It was a fracture in his composure, and you smiled into the kiss, satisfied that you had such control over him.

When his grip loosened, you took advantage of the opening by lifting your hips towards his, dragging the damp heat of your clothed core along the hard length of his erection that was trapped behind the thin fabric his pyjama pants, feeling the way it twitched at the contact–at the grind that made everything in his mind jumble into one conjoined thought. 

Bob tore his mouth away from the kiss quickly, cinching his eyes shut as his jaw locked so abruptly that the muscles jumped beneath the skin. You did it again, slower this time, letting the pressure build, feeling his fingers flexing and digging into your flesh, trying to keep you from moving, but there was no use, you already seized what little power you had, and you were going to ride it out until he forced you to stop.

“Do-Don’t,” He warned, though the word lacked any authority when his body pushed down to meet you–like he was magnetized to the warmth that was seeping through the barriers between your pelvis’. You gave him another kiss, smiling against his mouth.

“Don’t what?” You asked innocently, conjuring him to open his eyes. His pupils had nearly consumed the blue of his irises whole, but something warmer, shimmered at their edges–a diffused haze of gold that surfaced and disappeared with each uneven breath he took. Unfocused, and completely consumed with lust.

“You know what.” He shot back, feeling your fingers sliding deeper into his hair to give another lazy pull to the strands. His shoulders trembled, and his breathing turned shallow before another sound escaped him. A small crease between his eyebrows began to form–the same one that appeared when the pleasure became too overwhelming for him to conceal. The tilt of his head gave you easy access to the line of his throat, and you leaned up and pressed your open mouth against the warm skin beneath his jaw, tasting the clean saltiness of his sweat, and the faint residual soap from the shower. He let out a shaky sigh, a helpless one, almost like he was slowly giving into you and turning pliant beneath your lips

“You’re making me lo-lose it, Y/N…” He confessed, as your tongue dragged along the stubble, leaving a trail of saliva that sank into his flesh. You loosened your fingers from his hair bringing your free hand up to push the damp strands away from his face, noticing his lashes fluttering at the tenderness of your touch.

“I don’t have to make you do anything…You were already losing it when you were pacing around this room waiting for me.” You whispered, your breath cooling the trail of saliva you left, feeling him shudder again while you pulled back to look up at him with a teasing glint in your eyes, tempting him to take the bait you had laid out–hoping that he would fall for it. 

He stared at you for half a breath, and before he could even think he kissed you hard enough to force your head deeper into the duvet, devouring the words right out of your mouth. His breathing had gone ragged, and finally, the hand that had been tracing the lace of your underwear slipped beneath the material.

His fingers met the slick heat of you and a broken moan tore from your throat, as he drank it down and relished in the way he was able to turn the tables so efficiently. A smug curve touched the corner of his mouth, sliding two fingertips through your folds to gather your arousal on them before circling your entrance, feeling the pulsing heat that begged to be filled by him. You wanted to press down towards his touch–to force his fingers into you because you were so desperate to feel something–but just as you were about to, he trailed his soaked fingers up to your clit and pressed firmly on the swollen bundle of nerves. 

The sparks that ignited up your spine was immediate–like you had been touched by something electric–and your hips jerked up into his hand, craving the friction that it provided. He held you down with the weight of his body, keeping you locked in place, as he found a steady circular rhythm–making sure his touch was firm enough to keep you in this desperate state, and patient enough to make you want more.

He pulled away from the kiss and tallied your reactions through his half-lidded eyes, watching as your lashes fluttered, and how your swollen lips parted on laboured breaths, and the way your brows pinched when he angled his fingers just right to rub a tighter circle along the uncovered nerves. He could hear the way your heart was practically beating out of your chest, and how the heat of your body had raised just enough to start forming a line of sweat along your hairline–and instantly he knew he had you exactly where he wanted you.

Your hands dragged down the front of his shirt–scratching against the cotton in a silent plea to feel him, to bask in the warmth of his skin, to relish in his body. He knew the natural progression of your desperation–how you would squirm and pull and tug at him until he gave you what you needed–and instantly he sat back just enough to remove his hand from your underwear to yank the shirt over his head and toss it aside, exposing the broad, powerful lines of his chest and abs to you, showing off the uneven flush that had crept across his body.

Your eyes moved over him freely, cataloguing every shift of muscle beneath his skin, watching the way his abdomen tightened with each uneven breath, and the faint sheen of sweat that was beading and gathering in the defined grooves of his chest. Usually Bob would have found a way to fold himself back against you, to hide from your silent, praiseful gaze, but seeing the pure want in your expression seemed to have froze him in his spot above you. 

Your hands came up to settle on his waist, as your fingertips traced the scattered freckles there, before sliding higher to let your nails lightly score the warm flank of his back, feeling goosebumps raising under the touch. A mischievous smile pulled at your mouth, your teeth catching your lower lip as you brought one hand across the hard plane of his stomach, taking in every subtle twitch the muscles elicited while you followed the natural ridges of them, pulling a low sound from his throat. 

Bob pushed your shirt upward, his palms spreading hot against your belly until they settled just beneath your breasts.

“Should ta-take this off,” He murmured, as a shy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. You sat up just enough to strip the shirt over your head quickly, sending it to the floor to join his with a careless throw, and just as your skin met the warmth of the bedroom you hooked your arms under his and pulled him down towards you, needing to be crushed by the full weight of him, and to feel the solid heat of his chest against your breasts. He gave a breathless, startled laugh as he settled over you, blanketing your body completely with his while he adjusted to make sure he could hold himself up just enough so you could breathe–putting more weight on his lower half to compensate for the position.

His mouth found the side of your throat immediately, parting wide so he could place wet kisses over the skin before licking your pulse point, feeling the rapid flutter beneath his tongue. It was a joy to realize how worked up he made you just through simple little touches–and how easy it was to shut off the part of you that always wanted to be in control. A thought crossed his mind about how it would be if he ever did the same–how the entire room would probably be left in a state of disaster by the time he was done–and he couldn’t help but shiver in fear. He was already playing with fire by giving Sentry just a hint of the experience he got with you–by allowing him to look through his eyes, and locking him in as an observer. The temptation to just let it all go was hanging in the midst of the sounds you were making–those breathy little whimpers that always seemed to escape you no matter how much you tried to suppress them–though he pushed it all down to focus on you.

His hand slipped back down between your legs, bypassing the waistband of your underwear once more, only this time two thick fingers pressed inside you in one smooth stroke. You were already so wet that your body took them in easily–fully prepared for the intrusion–but the stretch it provided was still enough to make your breath catch in your throat. Your back arched off the mattress, pulling him deeper, pressing your chest against his, and he breathed out a sigh as your walls fluttered and clenched around him. His fingers curled, searching with careful strokes until they found the soft rigid spot that made your thighs lock around his hips and your ankles dig deeper into his back.

“Fuck–Bob–“ You choked out, as you tipped your head further back into the duvet, giving him more access to your throat, needing to feel his lips everywhere. He took the invitation, peppering kisses lower along the column of it, grazing his teeth over the thin skin at the base of your neck while his fingers set a steady rhythm–slow, thorough thrusts that filled you again and again without fail, while he continuously curled his fingers to add to the overwhelming pleasure that washed over you. His thumb found your clit, covering it completely, and he began to circle it in the same unhurried cadence he had done before, never quite giving you enough pressure to tip over the edge, only enough to keep the tension coiling tighter in your belly. You could feel your muscles tightening as your fingers dug into his shoulders, holding onto the only tangible thing that was keeping you tethered to your conscious state. 

You bit back a whine that was aching to tear itself from your throat, focusing on the wet slide of his fingers, the heat of his mouth that laid kisses on your skin, the way he shifted down your body with the ease of a man who had done this so many times before. He licked a trail along the slop of your breast, sucking on the plush flesh just enough to leave a faint mark, then closed his lips around one peaked nipple, letting out a soft moan at the way it filled his mouth. Your nails dug into the hard muscle of his shoulders as he flicked his tongue across the bud, and he couldn’t help but glance up at you through his half-lidded eyes–wanting to absorb every little reaction you gave.

You squirmed against him, hips lifting to follow every withdrawal of his fingers, wordlessly begging for him to go faster, to fill you again, to give everything to you. But Bob refused, keeping the measured pace, determined to unravel you completely before he satisfied himself. 

He released your nipple with a soft, wet sound, then blew a cool stream of air across the slick peak, watching goosebumps rise across the soft curve of your breast, prickling your skin and tightening it. He watched them form with a smile before trailing open-mouth kisses over your sternum until he reached your other breast, licking around the sensitive tissue and nipping at it–teasing you. 

When he closed his lips around the nipple he ground his hips hard into the mattress, emitting a low, muffled moan that vibrated against your skin as he sought a reprieve for the ache his erection was causing him, hoping the pressure could hold him off from cumming right then and there–knowing that his orgasm was hanging by a thread. 

He added a third finger then, determined to finish you, and the stretch burned–filling you to the brink of it almost being overwhelming to your senses–before it all melted into pure heat. Your nails dragged down the length of his back, digging far more deeper than the last time, leaving raised red lines across his pale flesh that would still be visible in the morning. He grunted against your breast, sucking hard as his breath grew rougher with every thrust of his hand.

The wet sounds emitting from his fingers working inside you filled the quiet room, and your hips moved freely now, meeting the thrusts to drive him deeper, wanting his touch to fill you completely, to hit every spot that made your mind turn to jelly. Bob lifted his head just enough for you to see the gold flaring brighter through his lashes, how it was almost overtaking the oceanic blue that you were so used to. His control was slipping, and you could feel it in the fine tremors that were running through the muscles of his arms and back, and in the way he kept grinding against the mattress, with helpless little sounds escaping his throat despite his best efforts to be quiet. He squeezed his eyes shut then, hollowing his cheeks around the hardened bud against his tongue, as he worked his fingers faster, curling them on every stroke so he could hear the symphony of whines that left your mouth.

You needed more–even though everything he was doing would normally have you toppling over the edge of orgasm within minutes–and you were desperate for it, just like he evidently was.

“Bob…Oh my god–“ You whimpered, the words coming out strained from your throat, as your head tipped to the side, feeling a dizzy spell coming over you which blurred your vision to the point of only being able to see the outlines of the objects that surrounded you. Your ankles that were locked behind his back shifted, pushing the waistband of his pyjama pants until they were halfway down his ass, attempting to free him, and he moaned, pulling off your nipple harshly. 

“Y/N…I’m trying to ge-get you off…I need to.” His voice was rough, almost pleading against your skin to let him focus because he knew that if he didn’t do this now you wouldn’t be prepared enough to take all of him–and that would only cause you discomfort. You ignored his words though, continuing to push the fabric lower while your hands slid into his hair, tangling through the strands. He opened his eyes, hearing how hard your heart was racing in your chest, becoming increasingly aware of the heat that was rising off your skin and intertwining with his, and how your body had grown slick with sweat. He had only seen you like this on a rare occasion, and evidently he had worked you up so much that there was nothing else he could do to put off this overwhelming drive you had for him. 

“I…I know…I just–Fuck, I just need you inside me. Please.” You begged, feeling your throat tightening as if you were on the brink of crying from how desperately you needed him–from the frustration that was beginning to crest above the surface. He could see your glistening eyes, how they were filling to the brim with tears, and he couldn’t help but feel the sight sinking into his bones, though he still hesitated.

“…Are you sure?” He asked with genuine concern in his voice, keeping his eyes on you so he could catch even a potential of a second thought coming up behind your gaze–though there wasn’t any indication of such things. Your hands became restless in his hair, tugging and twirling the soft strands around your fingers, toying with them just to feel him shiver against you.

“Bob…I can’t wait any longer.” He gave a small nod, whispering something incoherent under his breath, before pressing one last kiss to the underside of your breast, and pushing himself back onto his calves. Your hands fell away, dropping down to your sides as you glanced at the thin fabric of his pyjama pants–seeing the dark, damp spots where precum had soaked through, and the heavy strain of his cock that was barely being contained within the confines it was behind, feeling your breath catching in your throat at the sight. 

He withdrew his fingers from you slowly, dragging his soaked fingers over your clit before pulling them away completely, and the sudden emptiness made you wiggle your hips against the mattress. You felt insatiable–like Bob couldn’t do anything right until he slipped inside you–and your patience was almost nonexistent at this point. If your arms didn’t feel so weighed down you would’ve went for him right away, pulling at his pyjama bottoms like a sex crazed monster, just so you could feel him sooner, but you couldn’t conjure up the energy to do it, which meant you were at the helm of Bob’s mercy.

His large hands slid up your thighs until his fingers hooked beneath the waistband of your panties, drawing the soaked fabric down slowly as he lifted each of your legs in turn so he could free them completely from the confinements, before tossing the sodden cotton aside to join the abyss of discarded clothes that were scattered across the floor. 

When his gold-hazed eyes returned to you they moved without focus over every bare inch of skin that was exposed to him, taking in the fine sheen of sweat that coated your chest and stomach, the restless shifting of your hips, and the way you opened your thighs wider for him so he could see how wet you were. He watched the glistening trails of arousal spilling from you, noticing a small, saturated spot on the duvet from where it had absorbed into the fabric, and his mouth couldn’t help but water at the sight. 

If he hadn’t gotten you so worked up to this point he would’ve buried his face between your thighs until he wrung so many orgasms from you that you would pass out from exhaustion–just so he could soak his face in that beautiful, sweetness that you created, and bask in it with reckless abandon. But he knew if he did any of that, you would become even more flustered, and he wanted to give you everything you needed. He glanced at his fingers in those moments, noticing the slick shine that still coated his skin, and a small, private smile touched his mouth–that will just have to do. 

He brought them to his lips, shoving them into his mouth so he could taste you–relishing in the one thing that he wanted to be surrounded by for the rest of his living life, that sweetness that would drive anyone crazy if they were within a mile radius, the sweetness that was the all consuming bliss that killed all his defences the minute he tasted it. 

He licked your arousal off his skin slowly, letting it linger on his tongue before swiping along them again so he didn’t miss a spot, keeping his eyes on your while he did it to watch your lashes bat at him bashfully–like you were enjoying seeing how much of a hold your taste had on him. The way his cheeks had flushed under your gaze had made you smirk, seeing the colour raise in patches across his pale flesh. He was so focused, that he barely noticed your hands finding his hips to push the pyjama pants down the rest of the way, hearing him hiss when the fabric finally cleared and his cock sprang up from its confinements.

You glanced down, looking at the red, glistening tip, and the way it wept thick droplets of precum from the slit. He was so hard that you could see every vein standing out along the smooth flesh that covered the heavy length, and when you brought the tips of your fingers to the head to trace along the crown of it, you could feel the whole shaft flex against your touch, begging to be seated inside of you. He moaned around his fingers, pulling them out of his mouth quickly to grab your thigh as he looked down at your hand, watching while you rubbed the weeping slit, before bringing them to your lips to taste the bitter muskiness of him, feeling another wave of heat rushing through your body while your core clenched, drawing out another gush of arousal from you. 

“God, you taste so good.” You admitted, dragging your wet fingers across your lower lip so the taste would linger there, and he nodded sheepishly at the compliment.

“Likewise,” He replied, feeling your legs coming up to weave behind the backs of his thighs as he shifted forward, wrapping his hand around his cock to give it a few rough strokes before guiding the broad head to your wet heat, dragging the tip slowly through your folds, letting it nudge and press against your swollen clit to leave a trail of his precum behind. 

“You sure we can’t hold this off for a few minutes so we can ta-taste each other some more?” He asked, guiding the tip back down to rest against your entrance, feeling your arousal soaking it as you shook your head and squeezed his hips, trying to pull him forward.

“We’ve got time afterwards to do that…Now please…Stop teasing me, and just fuck me already.” You muttered, canting your hips up in an attempt to take him in, noticing him pulling back just enough to keep the head at your entrance and nothing more. Then he leaned down, covering your body with his again, while he pressed a soft kiss to your mouth before resting his forehead against yours. His hand hiked your leg higher on his waist as he continued the slow, maddening drag of his cock through your entrance, trying to prolong things as much as possible. “I’ve never seen you this impatient before,” He breathed against the corner of your mouth, “It’s extremely flattering.” You let out a sigh, sliding your arms under his so you could pull him closer.

“Well sometimes it’s impossible to wait when I have all day to think about the things you’ll do to me when I get on this bed of yours.” He hummed, tilted his head to pepper open-mouthed kissed along your jaw.

“It’s nice to know I’m always on yo-your mind.” A breathless huff of a laugh left you in those moments, one of pure disbelief.

“Don’t let it get to your head.” You remarked, feeing his lips turn up into a smile against your skin, as he lined himself up with your entrance again and settled his weight onto his knees.

“No promises.” He replied softly, before pushing his hips forward and slipping inside your tight wet heat, parting your walls with ease as he burrowed into you, feeling you stretch around him to take the full thickness of his heavy cock. The two of you let out an array of strained moans, your breaths catching with one another as he attempted to focus on keeping himself quiet while he continued to bring his hips to yours. 

You could feel every muscle in your body surrendering to him–turning to jelly beneath his body–relaxing into the relief that the fullness his cock brought you, and the way it stretched you to the point where it was abundantly clear that there was a chance that he may not fit entirely. 

When his hips finally met yours the two of you were absolutely breathless, as his arm came up to slide beneath your neck so he could hold you closer to him, feeling your chests rising and falling in sync with one another. He was shaking against you, taking in the way your walls spasmed around him, clenching and releasing with each breath you took, and he turned his head into your neck, pressing a kiss against your thundering pulse, hearing you let out a little grunt at the contact, and feeling your hips squirming towards him so the tip of his cock could rub against your cervix.

“Please move.” You whined, as his hot hand enveloped your shoulder and his eyes squeezed shut at the way your nails gently glided down the marks they had left on him already. He took a few moments to gather himself, trying his best not to focus on how good the warmth around his cock felt–because if he even paid it any attention he wouldn’t last long at all–and finally he shifted his hips back just an inch and thrusted in, earning a small gasp from you.

Your reaction only drove him, as he pulled back even further before sinking in again, finding a pace that satisfied the both of you and settling into it. Each time his hips met yours the impact sent a fresh pulse of heat through your core, another gush of arousal coating him as your body rose up off the duvet to take him deeper, feeling the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. His muscles tensed beneath your hands as you rubbed slow circles over his shoulders, resting your chin on the crook of his neck so you could bury your nose in his soft hair, listening to the rumbling whines that left his throat each time he pushed harder into you. 

His fingers dug into your thigh, as he raised your leg higher, changing the angle so subtly that you barely noticed it until he put more pressure into his thrusts, and the crown of his cock dragged against your g-spot. A breathy moan escaped you, vibrating into his skin as he continued chasing the relentless pace he set–rutting against you with such restraint that it felt like he was going to collapse. His hot breath stuck to your flesh as he bit down on the spot just below your earlobe, letting out a throaty grunt in an attempt to muffle the noises that were leaving him, trying to keep the one rule in mind that the two of you always had–don’t make any noise that’ll notify the team of your late night encounters. 

You gripped at his shoulders, clawing at the muscles, before finding his hair again and pulling him from the crevice of your neck so he could look at you. His jaw was locked tight, and even with his eyes closed you could see the gold blazing behind the lids, bright enough to show through the thin skin and showing off the small veins that were within them. He couldn’t bare to look at you, because he knew if he even made eye contact for more than a second he’d lose every ounce of control he had over himself. 

“Bob…Look at me…” You whispered, and he shook his head, continuing to thrust, not being able to find words to combat the request he couldn’t meet. You could feel the tension, the heat that was burning through his veins, how his grip on your thigh tightened to the point where it was almost painful, and you knew you had to intervene. His brows pinched together, as you slid your hands to his cheeks, framing his face while you dragged your thumbs over the subtle bags beneath his eyes.

“Ca-Can’t…” He stuttered, shaking his head between your palms, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip to suppress another moan that threatened to escape his mouth. You leaned towards him, pressing a kiss to the furrow between his brows, hearing the lightest whimper bleed through from him.

“Please, baby, I need you to…” You cooed, nuzzling your nose against his before pulling back to look at him once more. 

“If…If I do, I won’t be able to ke-keep quiet.” He admitted through the short breaths he was taking, as you shook your head.

“Let them hear us…I don’t care. I want them to know you belong to me anyways.” You said, squeezing his waist between your thighs, pulling him in deeper so he hit your cervix again with a jagged thrust, “Do it for me, Bob…” You added, pleading with him one last time, and it was as if every dam in his mind broke in those moments, as he took in a breath and forced his eyes open to meet yours. 

From this close it felt as though you were looking into twin suns–gold and molten orange swallowing the blue until almost nothing of the calm, soothing colour remained–and you could feel and feel the fire inside him burning, threatening to break out at any moment.

“Fuck, Y/N…He…He’s…” He tried to warn you, but you knew what he was going to say, and all you could do was nod.

“I know…It’s okay, Bob…You can let him in.” You reassured, dragging your palms down his cheeks to caress his jaw, “He’s still you…And I…I love you for all that you are.” You choked out as his hips drove in harder at that, his body shaking above you.

“Mmph…God I love you too…I love you so mu-much.” He whimpered, closing the space between your mouths to press a rough wet kiss against your lips, pushing your leg higher until your knee was practically touching the side of your breast. You moaned at the angle, at the way it opened you up to him completely, and your fingers dug into his face to find some sort of purchase to keep your consciousness entangled with this moment. A raw, guttural sound tore from his throat–half groan, half snarl–and you could tell he no longer cared about being quiet, taking your words as gospel written by pure lust. 

His thrusts turned harder, pushing as deep as he could go to the point where they were almost punishing in their intensity, and you whined, lifting your hips to grind your clit against the soft pubic hair that was soaked with your arousal. His fingers dug into your shoulder, into your thigh, into anything he could grip as he pulled away from the sloppy kiss to look at you again.

“You’re heavenly.” He growled, “A fucking blessing from every God known to man.” You could feel your cheeks heat up at that, as your hands slid to the back of his neck, clawing at the smooth skin.

“A blessing only for me to take.” He added, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip, before grinding into you. Your core clenched around him, as your head tipped back and pressed deeply into the mattress.

“Fuck, Sen-Sentry?” You questioned, and he nodded, his arm beneath your neck flexing to bring you closer to him.

“Don’t be scared…Bob’s still here, he’s still enjoying the benefits of this perfect pussy…I’m just in the drivers seat.” He explained, as a small smirk touched the corners of his mouth, his eyes roaming over the twisted pleasure that drew across your face.

“Sh-Shit…” You moaned, feeling your legs going numb at the way he kept moving his hips faster, adjusting to find the perfect angle that would hit every erogenous zone inside you just so he could feel you clench around him, and it only pushed him into a frenzy of unfiltered hunger–like your pleasure was the main goal for him while his own was pushed aside. He took in a deep breath, inhaling your scent into his lungs like it was an aphrodisiac, and sighed.

“You’re close, I can feel it in you.” He informed, as he released your leg gently, and let it drop to the side, before making space for his hand to slip between your bodies. He was searching, trailing his fingers along your belly, all the way down until he settled just above where he was driving into you, finding your clit easily with just a swipe of his thumb. When you let out a gasp, a grumbled laugh escaped his throat. “There it is…Is this what you need?” He asked, and immediately you nodded, sliding your hands down to grab at his shoulders again, “How about you tell me then, Sweetheart?” He teased, brushing the pad over the bud lightly, not putting enough pressure on it to make you crest over into your orgasm. You took in a shaky breath, putting all your focus onto your throat as you tried to form words.

“Pl-Please, Sentry…Ne-Need you to…” You babbled, unable to form a complete sentence, but he took that as a good attempt, gave what you needed –pressing down on the bundle of nerves and rubbing tight circles against it, matching the pace of his brutal thrusts. Your back arched up into him, a strangled moan tearing through your throat, and his smile became even wider.

“You’re so drunk on my cock you can’t even think…I see nothing going on inside your mind…I think you need to cum for me before you do any permanent damage.” He joked, peppering kisses along your face, smearing his saliva over your cheeks, “Think you can do that for me?” You nodded, cinching your eyes shut as the muscles in your thighs began to shake. There was something so primal about his approach that it had caught you off guard–and deep down you found yourself falling into a spiral of thoughts of how much more he could do apart from this. 

Your hips began to twitch involuntarily, canting up to meet his thrusts and grinding against his touch, and then a sudden wave of heat rushed through your entirety, pushing you over the edge into a cavernous abyss as your vision blurred and your body tensed up beneath his. He could feel your walls clench around him, almost halting his movements completely as your orgasm hijacked his rhythm. Your arousal gushed around him, soaking his cock and dripping down his balls until it seeped into the duvet beneath you. He kept circling your clit, riding out your high, letting you coast across the euphoria clouding your mind, up until you were scratching at his back and whining from the oversensitivity. 

“Too much?” He asked teasingly. 

“Yeah…Yeah, a little.” You replied, feeling his thumb easing off you, as he brought his hand back to your thigh, smoothing it up your damp skin.

“Sorry, I got carried away.” He commented, noticing the tension around his cock loosening, which allowed him to continue to thrust, taking it slow this time to not overwhelm you. 

“I liked it.” You whispered, and he kissed your cheek.

“I know you did.” His hips rolled harder into you, grinding his pelvis against yours, “You think you can handle a little bit more?” He questioned, feeling your hands travelling down his back.

“I want you to cum inside me…So yeah…I can take it.” He hummed at that, letting his gaze roam over your softened face, and your barely opened eyes.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He said, as he eased into the brutal pace he had laid out before, pushing your leg back up to your chest so he could get as deep as possible, watching your mouth fall open on a silent gasp, your walls contracting around him once more when his cock pressed right into your cervix. He let out a low grunt, and dug his fingers into your thigh, leaning down to enclose your mouth with his, sliding his tongue against yours to taste every essence of you. There was a ferality to these thrusts–a desperate ache to his movements–that made you realize he had been holding back before, and you couldn’t help but squirm beneath him, clinging to the strained muscles of his lower back, feeling them flex under your hands each time he drove into you. 

He tore his mouth from yours, feeling threads of saliva snapping against your lips as he tilted his head and kissed a wet path down your jaw, smearing moisture across your skin before finding the crook of your neck, burying his face into it to envelop himself in the salty sweetness of your scent, huffing you as he rutted harder and harder–hearing the wet slap of your bodies echoing through the room, and the squelching sound that tickled your ears every time he pulled back.

His teeth scratched against the sensitive skin, as his grunts grew louder, and his grip tightened on both your shoulder and the thigh he was holding up. The springs of the mattress began to squeak from the harsh motion of his hips meeting yours, and you could’ve sworn your body was imprinted in the duvet beneath you from the full weight of his form on yours, but you couldn’t think hard enough to care. You dug your nails into his lower back, and dragged them down to his ass, grabbing at the muscular flesh there, feeling the tension in every thrust, and suddenly he began to growl. 

The low rumble of it vibrated through your body, and even when you thought it was going to end, it just grew in volume. You could feel the sweat from his temples sliding down the side of your neck as he began to lose his rhythm, and it was the one sign he gave you to tell you he was close. 

“Fuck…Y/N…Jesus Christ.” He grunted, grinding into you to keep himself as deep as possible, until his teeth sank into the crook of your neck and he thrusted one last time, before spilling into you. His cum felt hotter than normal inside you as ropes of it filled you to the brim, mixing with your arousal as his cock twitched with each release. He tensed up above you like he was frozen in place, as your ears caught the sound of everything in the room grinding against the floor, including the bed which had moved a few inches. It was as if a seismic shift had flowed through the room, pushing everything out of place from the overwhelming loss of control that invaded Sentry’s mind. He wanted to try and stop it before it happened, but he was so focused on how you felt, on your warmth that wrapped around him and kept squeezing his cock, that he couldn’t hold it back even if he had attempted to.

He fucked his cum into you, feeling it gushing out around him and sticking to his skin and your thighs, yet he was still emptying himself into you with no end in sight. You were amazed by the amount that was leaving him, but you didn’t mind it one bit–you enjoyed the warmth it brought to you, how it invaded your body and dripped out of you because there wasn’t enough room for all of it. 

When his muscles finally relaxed beneath your hands, he eased his teeth off your shoulder and shakily pulled back to look at you, completely breathless and shivering. The molten gold in his eyes had settled into a deep caramel colour, interweaving beneath the oceanic blue that began to return, and he let out a huff of a laugh, as he pressed his lips to your cheek.

“I think you almost put me into cardiac arrest.” He commented, earning a choked out giggle from you while your hands ran up his back, soothing the remaining tension in the muscles there.

“And I think you almost put me through the mattress.” You teased, feeling him let out a hot breath against your skin, as he shook his head.

“Well, this is the first time I actually got to experience this with you…So you can’t judge me for losing control.” You kissed your teeth at that, shrugging your sore shoulder at his remark.

“Not judging…Just thought I’d point it out.” He smirked, pressing his lips against the corner of your mouth.

“Maybe next time I’ll levitate you, then you’ll really have something to talk about.” You let out a little laugh, tilting your head to nudge your nose against his.

“As long as you don’t throw me through a wall, I’d be open to anything.” He hummed, and just before he could respond an array of knocks at the door interrupted his train of thought.

“If you guys don’t mind, it would be much appreciated if you kept your nightly rendezvous confined to your rooms, I almost got crushed by my bed just now and I don’t want to die like that, thank you.” John’s voice boomed as both you and Sentry shared an embarrassed look with one another.

“Sorry.” The two of you said in unison, before he buried his face into your shoulder again, sighing while he listened to John’s heavy footsteps padding down the hall.

“That’s one way for them to find out about us.” You said, feeling him nod against the crook of your neck.