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crashandlivewrites · 15 hours

Text

black ink & pink french tips

captain john price

cw: retired!price, tattooed!price, smut/pwp, sub!reader, dom!price, bimbo!reader, age difference (20s & 40s), power play, daddy kink, baby trapping

bunny says: happy 3,000 followers to me (and right before my exam)!

price remembered his retirement party. he remembered the pat on the back he got from higher ups for his service. he was supposed to be proud, but now in his mid-forties, what legacy did he have to show for it? his name was more often than not redacted, he entire career was in the shadows.

no wife, no kids, not even a fixed address.

so life outside of the military became aimless. that was until he found you. while most would frown at a twenty year ago gap, but you were an adult who could make her own choices. price felt protective over you, he needed to keep you safe.

you were an adult, but you had a lot to learn. and what started out as companionship quickly turned into mind-blowing sex. price could man handle you like no other man could dream of.

"men my age are simply too nice." you sighed as you examined your nails. you looked at him, "pussies."

he simply chuckled and went over to him, shirtless with a cigarette in his mouth. his walk was almost seductive as he got closer. he looked down at you and cupped your face, “well, love. daddy will take care of ya. ”

did he rile up your daddy kink? yes. did he often use it as an excuse to tease you? yes. did you almost rip his hair out when he asked you about your relationship with your father in the middle of sex? yes.

price loved you on your knees, in his bed, over the couch, he loved on your side, back and stomach. he loved how his cock just sank into the sweetness of your cunt. it riled him up when he felt his tip poke at your womb. you were just perfect, he couldn't imagine himself with any other woman. you were his princess.

he was laid out beside you on his side while you were on your stomach trembling on the bed. there was a bullet vibrator inside of you and he had turned the setting on to high. he heard your small squeaks and watched you squirm as he palmed your ass. he grabbed your ass roughly as he watched you come apart.

tonight he was determined to get you as lust-drunk as he could get you. he had plans for you tonight.

the night prior he had proposed to you, and you rejected him. you told him that you didn't want to get married! was he crazy? so he had to go an unconventional route to keep you firmly by his side. it meant going from lacey bralettes to cute nursing bras in a years time. you could still be your hyper pink self while pushing a stroller, right?

at the time he shrugged it off, but his ability to plan started to form in his brain. so now he had you laid out as he touched you. his broad, strong hand groped your sweet ass. he watch it jiggle when he gave the cheeks a few smacks. he leaned into your ear, his facial hair touched your flushed skin, “how does it feel, baby girl?”

you whimpered, “why did you turn it on so high?”

he chuckled, “because when i'm too gentle you turn into a brat.” he slapped your ass and leaned in closer. he kissed your cheek softly, “you kick your legs and whine until you get what you want.”

you whined, “i'm not always a brat.” you buried your face deeper into the pillow. you could feel price's scent cloud your head as he made you feel good.

price reached down between your legs and started to rock the vibrator in and out of your pussy. you kicked out yours legs and he closed the gap between you, his other forearm across your lower back, “stay still, love.” his voice was low.

his tattooed fingers lingered around your hole, his thumb even touched your clit which made you feel like you were on a live wire! but price kept you pinned down. he loved watching your little movements, everything about you was so delicate. with your glossed lips and the clips in your hair, the way you pouted at him earlier.

he licked his lips and slid his fingers into your tight hole up against the vibrator. you moaned and arched your back. the pleasure raced through your body as he pleasured you. he knew you were getting more wound up the more he touched you. his naked little angel, all soft and vulnerable for him.

you didn't know much, when he asked you hard questions you got confused. but your confusion was just the sweetest thing he had ever seen. now he was going to have you as his wife. you'd make a beautiful mother. the thought made his cock twitch, it was already at full attention. ready to fuck the living daylights out of you.

you clawed at the mattress under you and arched your back. your noises was music to his ears. you made a deep noise when he pulled the vibrator out of your pussy. you went limp onto the bed, your head felt like a haze as you felt him roll you onto your back, your pussy glistened in the heated bedroom.

“aren't you such a treat. dirty girl who wants to be fucked by her daddy.” he got between your legs, he rested his weight against you, pinning you to the bed. your hands found his shoulders as he hoisted your hips against his. his hard cock pressed against your entrance, “silly little things like you need to be kept safe. that's why your home is in the arms of an older man.” he pressed his forehead against yours, he felt the sweat against his skin.

you moaned, “price, please.”

he grabbed you by the face and moved back to he could stare at you. the look in his eyes was clouded by lust, but stern. stern in a way that showed that he was hardened by war. he said, “price?”

you pouted “daddy…”

“i should punish you for that. make ya wash your mouth out with soap for that.” he smirked at you, “or maybe ten minutes in the corner? or maybe i should make sure you don't get to orgasm?”

you whined, “please, daddy! i'm sorry! my head feels all heavy.” you were running on the high of pleasure. you were barely thinking.

“it's alright.” he purred, “I can forgive ya tonight. you're always so good for me.” he said as he let go of your chin and kept you pinned to the bed by his broad chest. you could feel his chest hair tickle against your chest. it felt nice against your nipples. he took you by the legs and pushed his cock into you slowly.

you were so relaxed and soaked that he slipped in with ease. he bottomed out into you and you jolted it. you clawed at his back, nit enough to draw blood but rough enough that it left the skin irritated. price had a few tattoos since he retired, the ink skin contrasted nicely with the prettiness of you nails.

black ink and pink french-tips.

he rubbed up against you as he thrusted into you. he loved the warmness of your sex, he could feel your heartbeat against his skin as he moved you up and down on his cock. he exhaled deeply, “that's it, baby girl. daddy loves that cunt of yours.”

“please, daddy.” you whimpered as you held onto him tightly.

“you feel amazing.” he groaned, “it was like you were made for me. mind, body and soul. all mine.”

you tighten your legs around his waist. you moaned into his shoulder, you almost bit into the meat of it as you felt him. every thrust felt like a nudge against the end of you sex. like he was in your stomach.

“so good for me. you felt so perfect around me. my baby girl.” he rocked his hips quickly. he slammed his cock deep into you. he held onto you as tight as he could, he knew it was going to bruising.

"please"." you whimpered, "it feels so good!'

"that's what i like to hear.' he fucked you hard, your pussy clenched around his cock. your noises encouraged him as he moved against you. he sloppily made out with you as his pace started to stagger. pleasure clouded both of your mind. his stomach did flips at the idea of getting you pregnant. trapping you with his baby.

he held onto you tightly, tattooed hand in your hair as he fucked you with vigor. with a few hard thrusts later, you both climaxed at the same time. you kicked out your legs pathetically as you clenched around his cock. you went limp after as you tried to catch your breath. your head was too fuzzy to notice that price was finishing off inside of you.

spurts of cum hit against the back of your cervix and you felt like you were going to melt into the bed. but price continued to thrust into you even as he grew softer. he loved the feeling of your gummy, soft cunt around his length. it felt like home.

he whispered as he pulled out eventually, he laid out beside you and teased your cunt, “good girl.” he purred, “my good girl.”

your were unaware of most things. you didn't even notice that price had eagerly seeded you. and his mission was a success <3

#god Jesus fucking Christ #this will be all I think about for days #like fucking hell #I want him #so badly

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crashandlivewrites · 17 hours

Note

Highlander!Soap being obsessive about making you pregnant and gets frustrated that it didn't work and gets more aggressive at when having sex again.

Heir To The Throne (Captain MacTavish x F!Reader)

CW: Heavy on Breeding Kink. Exhibitionism (v minor). Rough Sex. Period Sex. Degradation. Spanking. Dacryphilia. Lactation Kink. Angst. Difficulties Conceiving. Summary: It's important for the Scottish throne to have an heir, and John is determined to make sure you carry his. Word Count: 4.7k a/n: this is v late so you got a breeding extravangaza.

Weddings were a loving affair, the bond between man and wife expressed before god, loved ones, and in the King’s case: the country. But far more than that, John expected you and him to have an heir within the year. To consummate your marriage and bear his children after a night of pure unadulterated passion, bodies covered in a sheen of glistening sweat that glitters in the silver moonlight. A soft symphony of moans and declarations of love that compete with the stars in their enumerability. An act of love, of devotion, to be witnessed by God and affirmed by a son.

Though, God would not be the only witness you soon found out.

Splayed out on the wool sheets your body felt tense, like your muscles were pulled taut and refusing the intimacy of your husband, his blue eyes staring at you expectantly… while two other sets of eyes also watch on. The King of England, Price, and the Prince of the Northlands, Garrick. Critical, discerning, and vicious in their intentions, watching as fellow royalty beds his newlywed to procreate a legitimate heir, witnesses to the consummation.

John’s hands run down your body and worship every curve, dip, and bump that makes you, you, and his lips trail across your soft skin, leaving warm and wet kisses across your throat, a pathway of tingling arousal sparking at each kiss that seeps into your nerves and travels down to your core. Despite this you’re still wound up, your body unable to let itself be pliable for your husband under the scrutinising stares of other men.

“Just focus on me, bonnie.” He murmurs into your ear, “Nothin’ else but me.” And then he takes your earlobe between your teeth and gently tugs before licking and nipping up the cuff of your ear, his hot breath tickling you in a pleasurable way while his hands work on unlacing your azure mist coloured wedding gown.

“No- John, I can’t-“ You mumble as your hands come to cover your breasts as they spill out from the undone fabric, your legs closing up as your nerves burn with the desire for your husband but freeze at the idea of an audience seeing this desire. His hands slide up from your hips and across your arms, slowly uncovering your chest while he uses his thick thighs to press between your legs and push them apart.

“Gorgeous, bonnie. Yer gorgeous.” He reassures in a voice dripping with sweet honeyed sincerity, pressing flitting kisses across your collarbones and down, “They just need to see you be so good fer me… bear me an heir. You can do that, bonnie, can’t ye?” a rough, calloused sensation rolls your pert nipple, pulling it between his pointer and thumb which pulls a moan from your chest at the same time, “There we go, wee queen. Just see this as showing off that yer mine, and mine only, that ye can give Scotland exactly what it needs.” He rasps before his mouth latches around your other nipple, the scruff of his beard pleasantly scratching against the flesh of your breast and making you squirm.

His reassurances helped to melt the reluctance in your brain and ease you into accepting what would happen, even a sense of smug superiority and pride surging through you at the idea that these witnesses would watch on as your husband loaded your cunt up with his seed, that you would be an appropriate bearer to his heir and do the entirety of Scotland proud with your illicit act.

As you’re distracted with the pleasure of the onlookers and your husband’s ministrations on your sensitive tits, John uses his free arm to tug your lacey wedding gown down, with each rough pull more of your flesh is exposed to the cold air and you squirm while John chuckles. You laugh as the dress bunches at your hips and for a moment you hear the other men in the room chortle as John grunts in frustration.

“Think it’s funny, huh?” He grumbles with a disdainful face, grabbing at the fabric with his strong arms and then pulling downward. Lace and silk shred apart with a violent rip!

“John!” You gasp as you’re left bare to the world, a look of utter shock crossing your face as you see the glimmering beauty of your wedding dress in shreds in his hands before he tosses them aside.

Lifting your leg he presses tender kisses across your thigh, “Get ye a new one, bonnie… now hush, lay back, an’ think of me.” He murmurs as his mouth clamps around the soft flesh on the inside of your thigh, rolling it between his teeth and sucking the flesh to leave a possessive mark in his wake, the first of many to adorn the delicate skin across your thighs while your leaking cunt wept in desperation for attention, the sweet musk filling John’s nose and encouraging him to continue nipping and biting his way up your thighs until his nose was pressing against that crevice where the thigh meets your pelvis.

“Please-“ You blurt out in a voice you don’t recognise on yourself, making all the men in the room chuckle in adoration of the Scottish Queen being so good and pliant.

He presses a soft kiss to your glistening sex and smiles with pride, his steely blue gaze looking at you in smug adoration from between your thighs, “Atta lass… I’ll give ye what ye need.” And then he slotted his lips over your cunt, his tongue flat and lapping up the expanse of your folds while your back arches off the bed from the sudden sensation of sinful pleasure.

“God, she’s a pretty doll…” Prince Garrick whispers.

“Lad picked a good’un.” The English King’s gruff voice agrees, both men taking deep, haggard, breaths to keep their cools.

The praises swim around in your head along with the electrifying bliss that your husband is flushing through your system as his lips glide along your swollen and aching cunny, his tongue circling around your engorged clit and giving it a gentle suck as you whine and squirm. You feel the heat rolling around in the bottom of your stomach and sloshing up through the back of your neck until it melts all rational thought in your brain. Eyes shut and cheeks warm as your jaw goes slack and lets out pathetic animalistic whines of sheer desire.

“She looks ready.” Price grunts, making John roll his eyes as he buries his nose into your mons, speeding up the pace in which he laps up your juices and brings you pleasure, watching as your hips buck and gyrate against his face, covering his mouth and chin in the sweet spend of his wife. You weren’t ready until John ripped an orgasm from you using his mouth, one that left your thighs quaking and your very essence dripping with a need for more.

Gripping into your thighs, he pulls them further apart to spread your lips and give him more surface to cover and pleasure, teasing and pulling your orgasm out of that boiling lust in the bottom of your stomach, watching your fucked out face and body tremble as it builds into a peak of pure bliss. Your thighs clamp around his skull as your toes curl, your hands fisting into the bedsheets as your body convulses, your satisfied cunt fluttering and varnishing John’s face with a sheen of your release while your stomach spins in dizzying release.

Now you’re ready.

Pulling away with a slick pop! John looks at you with smug eyes as he backs away and kneels between your legs, gazing at that pretty pussy that’s begging to take his seed and have his children. He lifts his kilt and gives his girthy cock a few hard strokes before rubbing the length between your gummy folds, collecting the slick and using it as a lubricant as he humps against you.

“Fuck… she’s so warm.” He informs the other men, leaving you keening in pride that he’s so appreciative and approving of your pussy already.

The tip of his cock catches on your entrance and gives a few shallow thrusts, allowing you to feel the initial ache of the stretch before it slips away into a pleasure you have no comparison for. Like you were made to be filled and now that you’re so close to being whole you’d have it no other way. You let out a soft, desperate whine which draws a chuckle out of the depths of John’s chest and encourages him to push his thick cock in and stretch out his precious wife’s pussy. He’s slow and careful, one hand on your hip to take control and another rubbing your thigh to calm you as you squirm, being speared on a cock that feels so impossibly big.

“John- John- oh fuck!” You squeal out as you feel him begin to bottom out into you, the tip of his length ringing on your cervix while his balls rest on the soft underside of your ass. He lets out a guttural moan and shivers in satisfaction as he presses his pelvis flush to yours and watches your face contort in a mix of pure lust and a sprinkle of discomfort.

He moves a hand from your hip to the small pouch of your stomach and coos, “Feel me in here, gorgeous? My cock just wants to rearrange your guts and make room for our bairn, you’ll make such a beautiful mam.” He chuckles, giving his hip a roll into you and watching as your eyes roll back at the same time.

Pulling his cock out, he watches as your gummy walls stick to his hot shaft, suckling on his tip and trying to take it all back in, so he does as she wants, and snaps his hips in to bury himself to the hilt inside your greedy hole, watching as your head lolls to the side and you let out a shriek of relief and joy, “Greedy wee cunny jus’ needs filled, lass” He moans out, “I’ll give it a good fillin’, so fuckin’ good you’ll be swollen for nine months.”

A desperately happy sob leaves your lips at his promise and he caresses your cheek as he begins to fuck into your ragdoll body, a leg lifted up over his shoulder while the fabric of his kilt pads your skin against the harsh slaps of his skin, an animalistic and claiming pace set. He admires the way your entire body sways with his thrusts, your tits bouncing back and forth in a hypnotic pattern, and he can’t help but envision them swollen and leaking white milk, full and heavy as they prepare to feed his heir.

So fucked out and cockdrunk you’re only capable of making drawn-out whining moans that echo around the room, being taken like the animal you feel life by the man you adore. His huge cock splitting your wanting velvety walls apart while it pounds into that spot that makes you see stars, his heavy ballsack smacking against your ass with each powerful thrust. He watched your face as it twists into ecstasy and hopes this moment of sheer pleasure is enough to be a consolation for the pain you’ll experience nine months down the line.

Your moans start to pitch and become airy prayers of want, for the lord himself to rip the orgasm out of your bones and decorate your nerves with a comedown so sweet you don’t even register your husband’s words.

“Tha’s it lass, need your wee cunny to clench ‘round ma cock… need to pour my seed into ya and have your pussy clench down to keep it in.” He growls into your ear, adding droplets of teasing lust into that familiar pool in your groin that was pulling out and about to tsunami through your body. “Gonna pump my cum into this swollen wee cunny, expect you to have a wee heir ready for me. C’mon baby, get pregnant fer me…” He rasps out and that does it – the wave violently crashing down and tearing apart your nerves and spilling out through every pore.

Gummy walls clamp down around his thick shaft, massaging it and drawing his own orgasm forward as your eager little pussy milks his balls empty, a warm, heavy load now resting in your stomach baring the weight of the crown. He continues to rut into your pussy with a strained moan and whispers, “Donnae waste a drop, lass, all of that is the fuckin’ future of our country… every last drop is gonnae be yer bairn.” He raises your legs up over his shoulders, using gravity to ensure the white seed doesn’t attempt to escape the nest in your cervix while his thick cock plugs you closed.

So fucked out and concentrated on your duty to your Queenly duties that you forgot two other lords witnessed the way your husband used you like a common whore.

The next month the nursemaids were watching you like a hawk, inspecting the bedsheets every morning as you took your walk. Though, it’s still dark outside when you’re awoken with a sharp and numbing pain to your sides, a familiar ache you know since adolescence, and you bite the inside of your cheeks as you feel hot tears prickle at your eyes, hoping that you’re not correct on your assumptions. You reach your hand down and feel it through the silk slip, wet and sticky, the vague smell of copper wafting up from under the covers – and it wracks a sob from you.

A heavy arm wraps around your midsection as a firm, hairy chest is pressed to your back, languid, searing kisses peppering the nape of your neck, “What’s wrong, lass? Had a nightmare?” he murmurs, voice like rolling thunder.

You let out a trembling breath, “No.”

A hum back in acknowledgement before he squeezes you closer, “Alright. What’s wrong.”

Biting your lip, you look over your shoulder with glassy eyes to see him staring at you expectantly, a speckle of concern underlying his stern gaze, “…I… I bled.” You manage out.

John tuts behind you and shakes his head, “Well that just won’t do, will it?”

The covers are long abandoned from the bed as you’re laid out on your side, the neckline of the slip pulled down to let your tits bounce free while he has your thigh clutched in his firm grip, your knee pinned up against your side as John’s fat cock slides into your red-stained cunt. The natural lubrication from your menses providing him all he needs to pound up into you while his other hand pulls on your hair, pulling your head back so he can rasp into your ear.

“You try’n to embarrass me, bonnie? Try’n tae show people am naw virile?” He hisses between moans.

Crying out, you grip onto the pillow below your head and try to shake it in denial, “No no- Johnny- John!” You whimper, your aching body sensitive as he abuses your cunt repeatedly, “Want your baby- want it so badly!”

“Yeah? You could fuckin’ act lik’ it.” He shifts his angle and starts to brutally pound into that wonderful little spot inside you, “Could let ma seed take, lass.” He groans and shivers in delight as your cunt flutters around his cock.

With how hard he’s driving his cock into you, you can feel it in the back of your throat while the back of your eyelids begin to see fireworks and your jaw goes slack, “Please- please John, give me your cum, need to be full!” you beg, somewhere between a genuine deep-seated need to carry his child and not wanting to face this disappointment and disdain from him again, regardless of how it takes you close to heaven.

“Full?” He mumbles into your ear before kissing down your neck to suck a possessive and punishing hickey into the crook of the neck, “I filled you every damn night the last month, and ye wasted it.” He growls, “We start fresh tonight, this fuckin’ takes, and the next night after, and the one after that – you will bear me a fuckin’ heir.”

Your moans tumble forth from your gut and raise through your throat as you feel that familiar sensation of release climb through your body, “John- Johnny, I’m gonna… I’m gonna-“ You whine out as he relentlessly uses you as nothing but a prize cow in this moment.

“Go on, take your silly release.” He scoffs as he snaps his hips against your arse in a way that’s sure to leave bruises, “But you better take with my seed, lass, ye donnae get one without the other fer long, ye hear me?” he whispers huskily, voice trembling as he comes closer to chasing his own orgasm.

Battering his cock into you, he releases first, hot, white spurts that you’ve grown accustomed to the feeling of, a stickiness that hasn’t left the inside of your abdomen since your wedding night. It’s almost a conditioned response. The sensation of the warmth flooding you pulling your orgasm from you with a delighted moan of his name that fills the very room. Then he pulls his length out, covered in a red sheen of your pleasure that froths at the base, and he watches as his seed trickles out of your swollen, red cunt and turns to a ruddy pink colour.

You stare at him through your hazy orgasm, eyes still glassy from fear of disappointment and John sighs. His warm hand pushes your hair back and he places a reassuring kiss on your forehead “’s alright, bonnie… these things happen. We’ll have a baby one way or another, okay?” he smiles, and your heart flutters at the reassurance.

Another month passes, and at first you are placated as the end of the month nears, satisfied you have finally taken with child. The day is warm and the sun is high, John is out hunting and you are keeping your hands busy with sewing a quilt for the future crown prince or princess. A spool of thread tumbles from the table beside you and runs away on the floor, so you quickly lurch forward to capture it before it can escape altogether – but the sudden movement makes your blood run cold.

Sticky. Wet. Copper.

You scramble to your knees and place the spool aside before reaching a hand under your skirt, running your finger along your sex and retracting it to see your period blood shimmering on your digits. You swallow and simply wipe off the blood on your skirt, already stained through the back no doubt, and stand up. It was better he hear it from you than a maid or soldier first.

That’s how you find yourself traversing the forest of the highlands, weaving through towering pine trees and attempting to track the bootprints you could only presume were your husband’s.

“Johnny!” You call out, the only reply being a birdsong, and so you push forth until you come across a familiar little brook.

“JOHNNY!” You holler, the scream scratching your throat and cracking your voice.

“Mo Chridhe?!” A familiar voice calls back and then you’re both running towards one another, using your voices as compasses until you stand before him and he looks at you, at first with worry, then relief, then anger – he thought you were dying the way you screamed his name like bloody murder.

“Lass.” He strains, keeping his calm demeanour through deep breaths, “Ye cannae be screamin’ me name lik’ that out here – I thought that Draugr King had fuckin’ taken ya.” He sees the regret in your eyes, the worry etched across your face, and his stoney front quickly weathers away into a worried gaze, “Lass? What’s the matter?”

“Johnny I…” You turned ever so slightly, the blood staining the back of your skirt finishing your sentence for you.

“Again?” He glowered, marching over towards you, “Perhaps I need to fuck it into you deeper, hm bonnie?”

Your face is pressed into the cool, soft earth of the forest floor with John’s rough hand on the back of your head, pressing your head into the muck while your arse is high in the air and presented for him to claim and ravage. The bodice of your dress long shredded which left your sensitive nipples on display to the sharp highland chill, dragging across the woodchip and rough textured mulch of the forest with every time your breasts bounced in tandem with the violent pace your husband has set.

His other hand was firmly pressed against your abdomen while he battered his hips against your plush arse, watching the way it jiggles and the colour darkens into bruises. His broad chest was pressed tight to your back as he cages you in like a piece of wild prey not even worthy of being considered human, now just breeding stock for his children.

“Had me worried sick ye were dyin’” he digs his fingers into your abdomen punishingly, “So much worse though, ain’t it, lass? Yer not giving me an heir for a second. Fuckin’. Month.” He accentuates each word with a rough thrust, leaving you crying out in shame and pleasure as he takes you like you’re only meant for this one thing in life now.

“Do I not take care of ye lass?” He moans as he slams his hips into you, chasing his own pleasure instead of focusing on bringing you yours, “Do I not keep your bed warm and tummy full every, goddamned evening?” Your hands claw at the brown earth as the grip in your hair tugs, sending a pleasant sting through your scalp and down your spine where it translates to your aching cunt.

“Answer me, lass!” the hand on your abdomen lands a welt on your ass cheek. It burns. It stings and it burns, and then it tingles and feels so agonisingly good.

“Done nothing wrong, John!” You cry out, your face contorted in a mixture of so many emotions, shame, disappointment, pleasure, and excitement. It’s warm and wet and covered in dirt and you look as debauched as you feel.

He lands a welt on the other cheek, “What is it, then? You saying my seed isn’t enough? That your womb is not fit?” He tuts, “Perfect little breeder, that can’t be fuckin’ right – so why won’ ye get knocked up? Huh?” Two more slaps.

Squirming and writhing, you attempt to crawl away only for him to grab you and pull you back onto his cock with a dissatisfied growl, “I am going to fill you when the sun rises, I will top you up when the sun is highest, and I will treat you in the evening and plug you up until you take, you will take.” He hisses.

Nodding blindly as he grabs your hips and fucks you onto his cock like nothing more than a receptacle for his cum at this point, “I will take! I swear it!” You whine.

Then it’s over. That same warmth flooding your guts that has been emptied into you for the last two months, his pelvis pressed tight against the flesh of your ass as his heavy balls twitch and empty into you. Then he pulls out and wipes his wet dick dry on your stained skirt.

“Go home and lay down. If you are not pregnant by this evening, I will ensure that you are.”

Month three of the marriage with no heir was starting to look bad – and you’re now only too thankful for Price and Garrick bearing witness to your marital union. Your monthly cycle hadn’t come just yet, but you dreaded it, you dreaded the idea of seeing that red sign that you were barren once more. What would the people of Scotland think? A queen unable to reproduce an heir to their throne?

You take matters into your own hands, storming to the throne room towards the end of the day – the guards were changing shift, and the castle was receiving no more visitors. John simply sat on his throne, reviewing things in his ledger during this momentary silence and peace that was about to be disturbed. You stalk up the tiled steps and stand between his strong, hairy legs, clearing your throat sharply for him to hold a finger up in response: wait.

Then he regards you, “Yes, mo leannan?” He raises an eyebrow as his steel blue eyes pierce into you, attempting to read your intentions before you can state them.

“I need to try for a baby.”

He scratches his beard, “I already filled ye up this mornin’, we’ve been tryin’ for months, bonnie-“

“Now.”

There’s a pause as he considers this request.

“Now-now, or let’s go somewhere else now?”

“Now-Now.”

You were sat on the throne, legs parted wide with the backs of the knees hooked over the arms of the elaborate seat, your glistening sex on display for your husband to take claim to once again that day, dripping with anxious need to be pregnant with your child already.

Embracing you close, your head tucked against his chest as he ruts his fat cock into you, he whispers, “Didnae wannae upset me this month, did ye, gorgeous?” the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix and threatening to spill into it once again, and you whine happily with a soft smile, melting into his understanding and syrupy sweet words.

“Could never stay mad at ye, bonnie.” He kisses the top of your head and adjusts his angle, dragging his thick, veiny cock over every crevice of pleasure that exists inside your swollen gummy walls, watching as you mewl and cry around him before he bottoms back into your cunt, his cock gobbled up by the eager hole as he presses balls deep inside you, “Not when you’re tryin’ so hard, taking my cum all day, surprised it ain’t leakin’ out yer goddamn mouth yer so stuffed up.”

The praises and acknowledgements that this was no one’s fault leaves you feeling like a puddle of pure ecstasy as he pulls you closer to seeing the stars again, your breath catching in your lungs with each thrust back in.

“This time, darling.” He moans loudly, his hands on your knees as he begins to pick up the pace, pounding into you with the know-how to make you go weak, “This time I will put my bairn in ye, right here, on the throne of Scotland. Conceived right where they belong.” He kisses you deeply, slow and romantic, all heat and no bite – your heart flutters at the gesture, causing your cunny to flutter and you can see the cosmos as your eyes flutter closed.

It only takes a few more thrusts for him to bottom out into you and fill you up with a smaller load than normal, moaning against your lips as he does so, taking you to heaven once again as your eyes roll back behind your eyelids and you let out a whimpering, needy whine into this kiss. You pull away, a small string of saliva connecting your lips as he smirks at you, “Cannae wait to see ye swell with my progeny, bonnie, ye’ll look so fuckin’ radiant.”

By God, you did look radiant, too. The swell of your tummy more obvious as the months go on passing that afternoon, and John couldn’t be prouder of his little Queen, your smile was that of the sun and you carried the second only thing in this world that mattered to him. Your eyes twinkle as you look at him, crinkled in joy, and he smiles back.

When you pop this one out he has to get you another.

#he’s so nasty #I’m in love with him #possessive and taken with your cunt #ugh

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