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writingsofwesteros · 6 months

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https://www.tumblr.com/lovelifechangesus/735685818508820480

Vaemond's daughter who took more after her mother in the hair color department. Idk what to use this for, but the woman is absolutely beautiful. There's so many ways this could go bc we have: (👑💀 btw)

King Aegon forcibly taking her as a second wife bc he's always wanted her and doesn't care if she tries to fight back Helaena joining in and gaining her trust first while secretly being VERY manipulative and obsessive when it comes to her wife. They force her to take Aegon’s cum in her pussy everytime, making it obvious that they're trying to breed her to force her to stay with them and ruin her for others.

Aemond crushing on the girl who never seemed to like her bastard "cousins" and bonding with her over their parent's mutual dislike of Rhaenyra’s endless rule breaking being swept under the rug they're both their mommy/daddy's favorite and have "repressed" anger issues, so they're both insufferable and occasionally explosive. The couple to make you cry within seconds. If they aren't already married and he needs to still choose a Baratheon, she would ride with him on her own dragon and go down the line instead of him. She'd make it seem like she was just helping him choose the best girl, but she was ultimately the one making the decision since the girl would be hers. She picks the shy girl and wastes no time breaking her new toy in, reducing the girl to a faithful puppy instead of competition for what's hers.

Daemon choosing her over Laena and forgetting all about his niece, telling her on their wedding night that he'd breed her and show her father how to properly carry on Valyrian features she yells at him a bit for being an ass, but alas, most of their children have silver hair and violet eyes. He definitely only got with her to piss off her father, but grows to love her and becomes extremely possessive the first time he catches her getting her pussy ate by two maids. Daemon puts her "in her place" when he walks by a room in his favorite pleasure house and stops to observe the lewd sight in front of him. A woman was roughly riding a man while hungrily making out with the girl sitting on his face, their tits brushing together beautifully. His cock rises even more as a beefy man brushes past him and quickly shoves his cock in her ass without preparation or warning, pounding into her with no self control. Daemon storms in angrily when the woman disconnects from her female lover and looks back at the man with a dopey smile, recognizing her as his new wife... needless to say, he never left her to her own devices again and knew if he cheated she'd surely out do him again.

Jacaerys lusting after her and begging his mommy to let him have her once he sees her at the Driftmark hearing and watches Vaemond be beheaded by his step-father, knowing the biggest obstacle was out of his way besides Baela ofc, but they could always share her cousin if push comes to shove. The first time he gets to her, he cums within seconds of being inside her, much to both of their horror. She's horrified to risk giving birth to a bastard's bastard, especially knowing how much Vaemond detested Rhaenyra’s family, and he is embarrassed he didn't get to take his time with her and is afraid his chances of her taking him seriously have lessened. Baela is furious to learn of his plans with her cousin, but only because she's had a crush on her since they were children, finding the older girl to be the epitome of beauty and remembering following her every lead. Baela would never forget how her cousin was the first person she ever had a wet dream about, it being induced by bathing with her and helping scrub her back, giving the younger girl a great chance to peak her body. They sleep next to each other, her cousin holding her in her arms with her tits in the girl's face as Baela's head becomes foggy before she ends up dreaming of sucking those pretty tits and exploring that pussy with her fingers.

Vaemond sending her to seduce Viserys so that he chooses her instead of Laena or any other girl, telling her it's for the good of their family and that she can be in control just like she's always wanted. She manipulates the older man severely and gets everything she wants from him, not needing much to convince him to give in to her every whim. It's obvious to everyone but him that she's the one that has complete control of the relationship, people gossiping about their new queen and how she's the person with the most power as he stupidly believes him topping her at night makes him the dominant. Rhaenyra hates seeing her dad being taken advantage of and being so mushy for some girl that's closer in age to herself while simultaneously admiring the woman for taking charge in a world that favors men. She'll never admit it, but she has a crush on the woman and practically leers at her everytime they're in the same room, her stepmother not nearly as conservative with her gowns as they'd expect a queen to be. Rhaenyra knows she can no longer resist her urges when she watches her new baby brother nurse from his mom's perky tit, waiting and following the woman to the baths later as if it were a coincidence they met up at the same time. Rhaenyra waits for the Velaryon to slip into the water and get comfortable before entering and sliding up behind her, groping her stepmother and pushing her up against the side of the hotspring, making her bend over it for easier access. Rhaenyra eagerly slides her tongue through her puffy folds and gives her the best head she's had in a long time, outdoing her father easily and making the queen squirt in her mouth. Viserys denies that their relationship is odd and gaslights himself into believing it's normal even though he's caught his daughter rutting her pussy against the woman that's supposed to be strictly her stepmom. He's much too happy they're getting along and Rhaenyra spices up their sex life because he actually starts putting in more work knowing he has competition Rhaenyra teaches her dad how to properly go down on their queen before getting permissionto ride the girl's face as she gives pointers to Viserys.

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CHOSE FROM ANY OF THIS!!

Second Wife: I love how Helaena is also in on the game. Nobody ever suspects her and this time is no difference as Vaemond's daughter even forgets she is dealing with two dragons. NSFW GIF

Second son's lust: They would so be a couple that would make anyone cry thank you very much. Of course, they need a sweet little doe to break and oh how they do it. They seal the Baratheon ally and their relationship only thrives.

His chosen lust: Of course Daemon has alternative motives; such a dick and we love him for it. Teasing her about her genetics not being strong enough should not be so hot. NSFW GIF

Strong lust: He has mommy issues !! Of course he gets Rhaenyra to get him everything he wants. Jace not lasting long is delicious as well as Baela pouting in the background. This is not what Vaemond's daughter wanted and now she is stuck.

The King's lust: ALL OF THIS! Of course Viserys thinks taking her beneath him means something. Bless him. Rhaenyra just drooling over her .

#👑💀 anon #second wife #second son's lust #his chosen lust #strong lust #the king's lust #hot thots

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cassiefromhell · 7 months

Text

The Game

Nanami x Wife!Reader

wc: 2.7k

warnings: f!reader, mdni/18+, smut, teasing, ROUGH, manhandling, gentle choking, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering a/n: this is a combination of my reaction to the latest jjk ep and a general need for manhandling nanami.

You know exactly what is coming for you.

You can feel his eyes on you from across the room. Watching you.

Watching his pretty little wife play games that she’d lose.

Because you have one goal in mind: piss off your husband, Nanami Kento.

Which is not an easy task. But you had pissed him off once before, a few weeks ago, and had been insatiably craving more. His reaction that night was… his hands in your hair, throwing you back against the bed, the words out of his mouth—

You can’t help but blush a little at the memories that flood your head now, as you speak to a man twice your age at this party. You know this man thinks he has a chance with you. He came up to you earlier, and is now flirting with you relentlessly, seeming blind to the ring on your marriage finger which marks you as claimed.

You giggle a little at something he says, taking your poker and stabbing at the fire. You sip the glass of wine in your hands. There’s no need to look over your shoulder to confirm; Kento is most decidedly watching you.

And that fire? It’s growing.

You can feel the way your white silk mini dress has ridden up your thighs a little, but you don’t do anything to fix it, no matter how much the skin on the back of your thighs sizzles and sears under his scorched gaze.

All it takes is for the man to reach out, try to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, and the flame explodes.

Hands are on your waist in an instant, a cotton-covered, firm chest pressed against your back. You know that chest. Those hands.

“I think it’s time for us to get going, don’t you think, dear?” Kento grits out, his thumbs digging into your skin. A warning.

“Oh,” you pout, turning your head to look up at him. You’re met with a hard-set jaw and cold eyes, as your husband stares down the inferior man who got a centimeter too close. “But it’s raining. We’ll have to wait for it to slow down a bit, or have a valet bring the car around, we’re parked a block away—”

“We’ll walk. Goodbye,” he flashes the tightest, fakest smile you’ve ever seen, and then turns you towards the elevator, pushing you in that direction.

And what choice do you have? You half walk, half stumble forward, his hands never faltering in their iron grip the whole walk over. He stops you in front of the elevator.

“Button,” he commands, jerking his chin towards the panel with two buttons, one an up arrow and the other down.

“Why do I have to do it?”

“It seems that if I let you go for half a second, you’ll run off and let yourself get eye-fucked by a nobody in a cheap suit. Button,” he growls, his hands tightening their grip, causing your sides to protest.

You whimper softly, reaching out and pressing the down button. It glows a soft blue, and you tilt your head to the side, gazing up at your angry, blond man. “What’s got you in such a frenzy? I was socializing—”

He scoffs. “Socializing. Sure. I know the game you’re playing, and might I remind you that it’s a game you can’t win, darling.”

You swallow hard, fighting back a flinch as the elevator dings, and the doors slide open.

Empty.

Kento shuffles you both inside, and holds the ‘close doors’ button so hard that you’re afraid it might actually crack.

The elevator doors slide closed, and he releases you, taking two steps back.

Suddenly, the air is so thick that you can hardly breathe, and the thought of the fingerprint bruises he’s likely left on you fills your head.

“Ke—”

“No. No more words from you,” he spits out, practically punching the ground floor button.

You pout, and take a step towards him. “‘Nam, c’mon,” you poke that damned fire again, just waiting for it to burn you.

And it does.

His arm snaps out, his hand gripping your chin, tilting your head up. “I said, quiet.”

That sharp anger in his eyes makes your stomach flutter, abdomen tensing. You bite your bottom lip, and try your luck. “You’re a little angry, huh?”

Your back is against the wall before you can even process what’s happened, before you recognize that he’s shoved you into the corner of the elevator, one hand gripping your neck and the other pressed firmly against your hip, keeping you in place. His body is fully pressed to yours, and the straining bulge you feel is unmistakable.

“Angry? You have no idea,” he says, his voice having dropped to an eerily calm tone. “I want to throw you onto the ground of this damned elevator and make you suck me off right here, right now. I want to fuck your throat, and then that kinky little cunt of yours, until you are sobbing and begging me to stop.”

Your breath catches in your throat— no, it completely stops. You’re no longer breathing.

“Then do it.”

He gives a breathy chuckle, suddenly spinning you around, a hand knotting in your hair and shoving your cheek against the wall. And then he leans down, presses his lips against your ear, and…

“No. You’d like that too much.”

You whine, straining against his grip on you. Kento is usually ever the gentleman, the perfect white picket fence husband. He brings you roses each Friday and a piece of your favorite cake every Tuesday, and fucks the shit out of you each day when he returns from missions. But he’s so… polite, all the time, his touch gentle and his voice soft. He’s the type to rest his hand on your thigh while he drives, and carry you bridal style into the house.

But this Kento… This Kento is the reason you’re trying to piss him off. Because you unlocked the manhandling, relentless Kento once, and now can’t get enough of it.

Suddenly, the hand on your neck drops down, down, down to your thighs, and then up under your skirt. Kento’s fingers ghost over your bare pussy, straight up laughing when he realizes you’re wearing no underwear. But the laughter is harsh, and sends shivers down your spine.

“You really planned this, didn’t you dear.” It’s more of a statement than a question.

“Can you blame me?” You murmur, trying to grind down on his hand, the hand which is now cupping your dripping cunt, the heel of his hand juuuust below your clit. “Please.”

“We’re almost on our floor,” Kento suddenly releases you, fixing your dress with a soft touch and taking two steps back.

You open your mouth to complain, but right on cue, the elevator doors slide open. Kento presses a hand against the small of your back, forcibly guiding you out of the elevator, and across the plaza, out to the main doors.

Where it’s pouring.

You pause outside the glass doors, crossing your arms across your chest. “No. It’s pouring.”

Kento sighs, but looks you over, and realizes it at the same moment as you do; you’re wearing white.

And Kento is a gentleman.

“I’ll bring the car around. You stay right here, you understand me?”

You nod, and he’s out the doors in an instant.

You find yourself shifting on your feet as you wait, your heels really starting to do a number on you. You keep fixing your dress, trying to ignore how you’re wetter than the rain outside.

Your feet have not moved an inch when your familiar white BMW M8 pulls up to the doors, and your husband gets out of the driver's seat, umbrella in hand.

And he is soaking wet.

His blue shirt sticks to his chest, not hiding any of the rippling muscle along his entire torso. He’s discarded his gray suit jacket, but the pants have darkened a shade due to the rain. His hair sticks to his face, blond locks drenched.

You can’t help the blush that rises to your cheeks when you realize how close you are to being able to make out his dick print, and that only worsens when he walks through those doors, headed straight for you.

“I didn’t move,” you murmur as he takes your arm, gripping your bicep tightly and heading for the exit once more.

“That earns you no brownie points tonight.”

Kento opens the umbrella as he drags you outside, holding it over your head. Not a drop of water hits you as he escorts you to the car, and then opens the door to the back seat.

You raise a brow. “Backseat?”

“So you can’t touch me,” he replies, and then promptly sweeps your feet out from under you, catches you, and tosses you into the back seat.

You yelp as your back hits the leather, and the door is closed immediately. Kento is in the driver’s seat before you can blink, staring at you in the rear view mirror.

You buckle yourself up, and he seems satisfied, putting the car into drive and pulling out of the parking lot at a speed that’s probably too fast.

You chew your bottom lip, watching his hair drip onto his face, watching his hands white-knuckle the steering wheel, watching his foot press the accelerator.

“You’ll catch a cold,” you murmur, leaning forward and running a hand over his hair, trying to squeeze some of the water out.

His hand wraps around your wrist, pulling your fingers away from his head. “No touching.”

You pout, unbuckling yourself and scooting forward, pressing your face against his neck. “Kentoooo…”

You feel the change in his demeanor immediately. He tenses, and reaches back to grip your hair, yanking your head away from him.

“That’s it,” he hisses, and pulls the car into an empty parking lot, putting it in park.

He’s out of the driver’s seat instantly, coming around to the back, and climbing into the back seat.

You have to fight back your victorious grin, but he doesn’t have the same plans as you do, because he grabs you, and pulls you out of the car and into the rain.

“Kento—”

His mouth crashes into yours, and he grabs your chin tightly, his other hand holding your waist to his. You whimper into his mouth, trying to ignore the cold rainwater that’s certainly making your white dress translucent.

He pulls away just when you begin to shiver, then drags you around the car, putting you into the passenger seat and slamming the door. He appears back in the driver’s seat in an instant, his jaw once again set and eyes cold as ice.

“What happened to the no touching rule?” You grin, kicking off your heels.

“Better idea.”

He pulls back onto the road, eyes staying on the path ahead, all while his hand starts to make its way under your skirt.

You realize what he’s doing just as a finger plunges into you, sliding easily with your wetness. You groan loudly, whimpering as his thumb grazes your clit.

He slides in a second finger, and starts pulling them out and pushing them back in, all while stimulating your clit.

It hardly takes any time at all for you to be whimpering and grinding against his hand, gripping the door for support and leverage.

With a few more strokes and swipes of his thumb, that coil in your abdomen begins to tighten, your cunt clenching around his fingers. “Ah— oh, shit…”

Kento withdraws his hand, and you open your mouth to protest, then realize he’s pulled the car into your garage, and is putting it in park.

And he presses the garage door closing button.

And then waits, both hands on the steering wheel, as the garage door closes.

The second that the concrete meets the door, Kento turns his head to look at you, all needy and desperate with pleas begging to escape your lips.

“You really want me to be rough with you?” he asks, his brows stitched together in concern.

“Wherever would you have gotten that impression?” you drone, raising a brow sarcastically. “I want to get the ever-loving shit fucked out of me.”

“You want to be hurt?”

“A little. I liked last time,” you murmur, allowing your mind to slip back a little bit, back to that night that had left you both bruised and begging for more.

“There are better ways to go about this than pissing me off,” your husband narrows his eyes, jaw clenching.

“This is the authentic way.”

“You’re spoiled, you know that?”

“You’re hard as fuck, you feel that?” your eyes flick to the bulge under his pants zipper.

That’s enough to send Kento flying out of the car, and before you know it, he’s opening your door, dragging you out by your bicep.

You yelp, stumbling forward as his grip on you — which is covered in your slick — remains firm. He pulls you into the house, and your back is pressed against a wall immediately, his mouth on yours, hand around your throat.

Kento pulls you up the wall, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, grinding your aching cunt against his shirt. He roots his fingers in your hair, tugging just enough to be a bit painful.

Clearly he’s done waiting, because his dick is out within seconds, and he’s pulling up your dress. You whimper once the fabric is bunched up around your waist, gripping his shoulders.

“Please…”

“You think that’s enough?” he scoffs, tugging your hair and tilting your head back. “You flirt with another man, nearly let him touch you, act like a brat, and you expect me to just give it to you?” Nevertheless, he presses the tip of his cock against your entrance, teasing you with the slightest bit of pressure.

“Fuck—” you whine, groaning softly. The hand holding you up digs into your skin. “I’ll be good— jesus, please. I need you.”

Kento slaps your ass, and then thrusts nearly his entire thick length in at once, causing you to cry out, tears coming to your eyes. He immediately starts a bruising pace, fucking you into the wall so god damn hard that a picture frame nearby rattles.

You whimper as his cock reaches that sweet spot once— and then again, and again, until you’re matching each thrust with a tilt of your hips and a moan.

“Fuck— there you go, baby,” he grits out, yanking on your hair. “Take it all.”

That familiar cool begins to tighten, your abdomen tensing as he picks up his pace even more, and you wonder how it’s possible — untll you look down and realize he’s using the tiniest bit of cursed energy to fuck the actual shit out of you.

“Cum for me, come on. You wanted this so bad, so cum on my dick.”

And that’s enough to send you tumbling over the edge, stars flooding your vision and a long string of curses leaving your lips like a prayer.

His thrusts grow a little sloppier, and he spills himself into you with a hiss, leaving little nips along your jawline.

“I’m not close to being done with you, just as a fair warning,” he growls, and then tosses you over his shoulder.

At this point, you’re half dead.

But also half alive, kept awake by Kento’s hands rubbing circles along your skin, the bubbly bath water tickling your breasts.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to a bruise on your shoulder.

You give a half-babbled response, leaning into his warmth more.

“Full sentences, please.”

“Mm.. I love you,” you manage, turning to face him. You press your face into his neck and inhale his scent.

“I love you too.”

A long pause comes, with Kento just rubbing circles into your bruised sides. Then, he speaks.

“Now, what did we learn?”

“That pissing off the husband results in mind-blowing sex.”

He draws a sharp breath in, and smacks your shoulder gently. “No, no. We learned that we don’t have to piss the husband off, we just have to use our words and plan a date for these things.”

“That’s not very authentic.”

“Do I have a shot at winning this?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Alright.”

#nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #nanami x wife!reader #smut #jjk smut #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami #f!reader #second person #cassiefromhell

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