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[afineseamstress]

It's an old nightmare, and if the reversal of roles is new, Aramis has no knowledge of it. In her dreams her belly swells, her parents rage, but in the end, Aramis feels happiness bloom within her, and in time, she sees it in the features of her husband to be. But the dream turns as it always does, from hope and to despair. She reaches for him with hands only freshly washed of blood, but Étienne still turns from her.

It's an old dream, an awful dream, but bearable for the long years of its endurance. Aramis believes that, right until Étienne turns for one last look, and his face becomes Porthos'.

Aramis wakes with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed with tears still streaming down her face. With a soft curse, she lifts her hands and wipes them away, crawling as carefully as she can out of bed and towards the kitchen.

Comments

[du_vallon]

Porthos shifts slightly, wrapping his arms around Aramis' body and having to adjust when habit makes him hold for a bit broader of shoulders, a bit wider a torso. It's a quick adjustment, though, and he's soon doing it properly, shifting up slightly so he can slide a pillow behind his back. "Like this?" he murmurs, arching his brow. "C'mon then. Aren't you going to ride me?"

[afineseamstress]

"Oh yes," Aramis assures him, dragging her nose along his, nipping his lips when she reaches them. She drags blunt nails down his chest to wrap summarily around his cock. "Hard for me already," she notes with pleasure. "But aren't you forgetting one of your beloved condoms?"

[du_vallon]

He shakes his head, a bit of a blush on his face. "No," is what he murmurs. "No, I don't need one. Right now, you and I need this and if something happens, then we'll deal with it," he says, to convince both himself and her as he slides his fingers up and down her sides. "I want to feel you. I want to feel all of you and I want you to feel me."

[afineseamstress]

"Fuck," whispers Aramis indelicately, and she seizes Porthos' hand, pushing it downward. "I want you to feel this all the time," she confesses, dragging his fingers through the wetness between her thighs. "Sometimes you only have to look at me, and I feel this dampness, you're only cooking dinner and I feel such an ache." Maneuvering his fingers, Aramis moves them to thrust inside of her, fucking herself down onto them when she's found the angle she wants. "Warm and slick, Porthos," she sighs. "So warm and slick and soft I'd be, holding your cock inside me."

[du_vallon]

Porthos lets out a ragged moan, utterly and completely useless as he lets her move his fingers wherever she likes them as he feels the wetness of a woman in a more aroused state than he's ever felt before in his life. He works his fingers, but can't help the edge of disappointment now that he's been given a promise of this. He whimpers, yearning, and stares up at Aramis helplessly. "Maybe I should cook in less clothes, so you do something about that ache," he mumbles, sliding his free hand up to cup and grope at her tit, burying his face in them when he can't stop himself.

Laying soft kisses to her skin, he eases back to stare up adoringly. "You're a goddess of beauty and so damn sexy," he growls. "I need my cock in you. Please. Please, oh god, please."

[afineseamstress]

Aramis lifts the hem of her t-shirt, one of Porthos' own, and pushes his face between her breasts. "If you want a condom," she tells him, because she needs to be certain he doesn't want it after their last conversation, "This is your last chance, because in a few moment's time, I'm going to sink down onto your beautiful cock, and I'm not going to stop until we've both spent." Swirling her thumb against the head of his cock, Aramis groans to feel it damp. "Me more than once."

[du_vallon]

Porthos feels his heart beating wildly as he breathes in her scent, buried where he is. "Risk it," he growls and tightens his grip on her hips. "Nine months is plenty of time," he says, which is true no matter what Aramis looks like. He shivers with anticipation, biting his lip as he stares up. "You're glorious," he praises.

[afineseamstress]

"Yes," Aramis breathes, as much for the permission as for the praise, and she lifts up, holding him in hand to guide herself down, down, sheathing him in the wet heat she's been promising. She sinks until she can take him no more, then lifts his chin for a kiss, claiming his mouth with her own when she begins to move. "Porthos," she exhales against his lips, lifting one of his hands to her breast. "Oh, my love."

[du_vallon]

They've done this already, they've already had this, but Porthos finds himself struck mute suddenly by the difference of doing this without a condom. Gasping desperately, he melts into the kiss and kneads his fingers over her breast as he whimpers at the wetness and the hot of it all, utterly unable to help himself because it feels so, so damn good.

He's actually trembling, right down to his toes, and is utterly useless. She's in control and he's content to lie back and let her take him as she likes. And god, but it's intoxicating what it feels like as he thrusts up into her. "I love you," he says, when no other words are there for him.

[afineseamstress]

"And I love you," Aramis tells him, holding tight to his shoulders to lever herself up and down. He is beautiful beneath her, huge and strong and shivering with need, and Aramis takes his hand, moving it between her legs. She's close already and eager to come, ready to take the edge off so she can concentrate on bringing him to the same trembling brink.

"Make me come," she instructs, and clenches down around him, "Make me come and my body will grip you like a fist."

[du_vallon]

It feels as if he's been whipped around and she's in control. Porthos isn't a stupid man. He knows that Aramis is in control of him at all times and that Porthos is simply happy to follow him dutifully, marching as if to her tune. When she clenches, when his hand is brought into the mix, he actually starts to get a bit dizzy, light-headed with new pleasures and with one last jerk of his hips, wildly, he does come and fills up Aramis in a way he's never before.

Head thrown back, pupils blown wide, he lets out a ridiculous gasp and moans Aramis' name wildly, having been months since he's done this with a woman (without protection) and never since he did it with someone he's felt this way about.

[afineseamstress]

Aramis comes with his thumb pressed hard against her, the sudden rush of heat as he follows a surprise, but a welcome one. She reaches for his face even before she's done shuddering, peppering him with kisses that only grow in tenderness when she sees the open look on his face. "My Porthos," Aramis croons. "So good to me." She tucks his face into the crook of her throat, wrapping her arms around him to slow the frantic thud of his heart against her own breast. "There now, shh."

[du_vallon]

He's utterly mute as she whispers to him and moves him, unable to do anything but allow it, feeling absolutely and utterly weak for him (her, any version) and when he finally comes back to himself, he musters up the energy to form a soft kiss that lands on Aramis' throat, letting out a sound that's practically torn from his throat in need.

He pulls away with a ragged gasp, thinking that he's done the opposite of his intention. He's wide awake, now, unable to want to sleep. "Good?" he mumbles, needing to verify that much and hear it.

[afineseamstress]

"Very," Aramis promises him, stroking her thumb along his dimpled cheek. She shifts, but doesn't lift off of him just yet, still enjoying the idea of him filling her up. "Are you all right, cariño?" she asks, fond, "You look a wreck. A very handsome wreck, mind," Aramis adds with a smile, "But a wreck all the same."

[du_vallon]

Eyes half-lidded, he pulls his attention to Aramis with a lazy, but doting smile. He doesn't know how to even describe it because he can't say that it's been so long, and he can't call attention to the fact they don't do this often. Instead, he lifts his head to brush slow kisses to her breasts before collapsing back on the bed. "You've wrecked me," he confesses, stretching his arms out over his head.

"Woke me up, too," he confesses with a grin. "How on earth are we gonna manage to do that when we have kids?"

[afineseamstress]

"Quickly and quietly," Aramis tells him, finally sliding off his body to curl up alongside him. "Fortunately we are both very good and should have no trouble hurrying things along. Apart from that?"

Aramis grins and drags her nose along his shoulder. "Uncle Athos will have to watch them."

[du_vallon]

Porthos makes a sad little noise when Aramis rolls off of him, staring at her with baleful eyes, though he quickly makes up for the loss of warmth by wrapping his arms snugly around her waist and dragging the blankets tight around the both of them.

"Uncle Athos," he laughs warmly. "Do we really trust him with children? He might use wine to put them to sleep."

[afineseamstress]

Aramis laughs, too, curling her body even closer to Porthos' warmth. "It is no different than we'd have done at home to cleanse the water. I trust Athos with my life - I will certainly trust him with my childrens'. Besides."

Aramis lifts her chin, mouthing idly at Porthos' ear. "They would be good for him. D'Artagnan brought him forward in leaps and bounds, just think what an actual child might do."

[du_vallon]

"What if it makes him want his own?" Porthos mumbles distractedly, unable to do much clear thinking with the way that Aramis is working at his ear. He misses the scrape of a beard, but at the same time, the smoothness is an intoxicating change that he's not sure he'll get used to.