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#there were way to many with the first letter p
iloveboysinred · 22 hours
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Under the Canopy [Firelord Zuko]
Mdni 18+ content | Firelord! Zuko x Reader
Synopsis; Being Firelord had been taking up all your husband’s time. It was hard trying to be a supportive wife by keeping your own desires to yourself.
cw; fem!reader, sexually explicit content, messy oral sex (giving and receiving), fluffy smut, smut with feelings. P in V sex, two seconds of subby Zuko if you squint, split second of overstimulating the firelord, slight mentions of exhibitionism, kinda long and written by an amateur. ;<
; 3291 words
Sorry for the way the paragraphs are formatted, apparently tumblr’s servers cant handle long paragraphs 😒
GIF by @/choschang
It was quiet in the Fire Nation tonight.
You sat by Zuko’s study in your shared room, watching him work. He was writing letters in response to the leaders of the other nations, addressing their concerns as well as handling issues within his own nation. It took all his focus, brush in his hand sliding around on the parchment with precision. While you, left quiet and nothing to do, occasionally took the time to study him. His brow furrowed in concentration as he wrote, his steady hand occasionally pausing to dip his brush in the ink to continue writing on the scroll. The task seemed so simple, but you could see in his eyes he was beginning to grow tired. Zuko has been up long nights as well as enduring equally as draining meetings with diplomats, generals, and his advisors, all in the name of restoring peace to the world, and honor to the Fire-Nation. After the 100-year war, the burden of his forefather’s mistakes fell on Zuko and Aang, working restlessly to reverse 100 years of oppression, which of course, was no easy task. Paired with the uprising of rebellions, and the daunting task of earning the trust of his people and the whole world, being Firelord has kept your husband occupied and stressed.
Many times you found yourself in the same exact place you are now, leaning over the edge of the desk, offering little comments of advice and correcting his grammar, ignoring his occasional demands you get your rest. These long nights were the only alone time you and your husband could enjoy together right now, even if its just you sitting by his side quietly as he worked. Occasionally he would reach over and tangle his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand to let you know he appreciated your presence.
Your heart craved more than gentle hand squeezes and rushed pecks here and there, you missed the warmth of your husband. Many nights you’d lay alone in your extravagant bed, longing for the tender love and passionate touches only Zuko could provide. The silk red and maroon bedsheets reminding you of your husband’s insatiable appetite for your body. Your mind wandered back to your first few nights as newlyweds, when Zuko fucked you on any surface he could hold you up against. His hips rocking into yours hastily, pussy drunk and inexperienced, making his pace desperate. But by the time night had fallen, he had gained plenty of practice on exactly how to please you, making sweet love to you under the stars, not caring how loud you were or who saw you.
You rubbed your hand up the side of your neck, once constantly covered in angry red and purple marks. All gifted from your needy husband who couldn’t keep his lips off of your skin. You sighed, shifting your position on the chair you had taken next to the study. You tried to shake off the creeping arousal you started to feel in your core.
Zuko had to work. It would be selfish to interrupt him.
But you couldn’t help but want to be selfish. The bed behind you looked emptier than it has ever been. The duvet crisply folded over top of the cool, silk red sheets underneath pressed to perfection, not a single wrinkle in sight. Your soft, elegant pillows perfectly arranged in various shades of burgundy and red. All sitting on top of a strong, oak bed frame. A huge tapestry of the fire nation insignia hanging from the wall. Your gaze seemed to stick to the canopy you had specifically asked your husband to have built for you. The thick curtains now tied neatly to their posts. You pictured the lazy mornings you had with Zuko, your legs spread and comfortably resting on his shoulders, his head buried in between your thighs sloppily getting his fill of you. You’d thread your fingers through his hair, lightly grinding your pussy onto his face, urging his tongue deeper. Those very same curtains blocking out the morning light, letting you and Zuko enjoy a little more time with each other.
“Y/n? Cant you hear me talking to you??” bringing you back to the present, you tried to give your husband your undivided attention, your thighs clenched together, your undergarments now damp from your heated arousal. Those filthy thoughts of your husband making your heart race and your clit pulse. “Are you tired or something?” He asked you, tenderly reaching over to place his warm hand on your knee. You jolted at the contact, confusing your lover, who gave you a sideways glance before moving his hand to grasp yours, now resting on your thigh. “N-no i’m not tired baby. I’m just…reminiscing.” Zuko narrowed his eyes at your response, piercing gold looking straight into your soul. “About what?” He questioned, rubbing circles around the back of your palm. The warmth of his hand on your skin made your body tingle. “Well, i’m just thinking about our honeymoon…how I used to have you all to myself. Now it feels like I can barley get two minutes alone with you..” A knowing look overcame Zuko’s face, and you thanked the spirits your husband could read you so well to know what you meant without having to say too much. His cheeks flushed lightly, not expecting an answer of that nature and you smiled warmly at him. He never stopped being bashful, despite being well aquatinted with your needs and desires by now.
“Its okay though, my love. I know you’re busy nowadays. I wouldn’t want you to abandon your duties because of me-“ “come here, love” Zuko interrupted your rambling, pulling his chair away from the study and beckoning you over to sit on his lap. He spread his thighs as you sat down, giving you room to get comfortable. You clung to his robes, and he wrapped his arm around your back, holding you steady against his chest. His other hand rested at your thigh, rubbing and squeezing the soft skin. You felt your clit pulsing between your legs. You were so close to your husband’s dick, resting just under you. The only thing separating you from him being the thick robes that he adorned, and the thin fabric of your panties, now clinging to the damp skin of your pussy. Zuko caressed your back, pressing slow kisses up the length of your shoulder and neck. Nuzzling his nose against your cheek, his warm breath fanned across your skin, you melt into his embrace, breathing out in contentment.
“Tell me exactly what you remember about our honeymoon.” He murmured, sighing blissfully as you threaded your fingers through his hair. You flushed, timidly hiding your face in his neck as you recounted the filthy thoughts you had been thinking about just minutes before. “Well..i was thinking about the first night on Ember Island” you mumbled, moaning when you felt Zuko sucking on your neck, already attempting to leave a hickey on the skin of your throat. “ mmm..mind telling me the details?” His raspy voice made your heart skip a beat, light breaths escaped you as Zuko continued kissing your jaw, his other hand creeping up your thigh, causing your night dress to hike up, the fabric bunching up around your hips. You stilled as his hand ghosted over the skin of your inner thigh, dangerously close to your core. “I was thinking about how you put me up against the wall.. you fucked me so good that night. You always do” you breathed, shivering when you felt your husband’s finger ghosting over the flimsy panties stuck to your skin “And what else?” you barely heard him, the ache between your legs and his teasing was mind numbing. “I just miss you so much, Zuko.” you confessed, your voice was close to whiney, trying to pull at your husband’s heartstrings as much as you can. Zuko hummed, his hands tracing over the lining of your panties, thumb rubbing over the fabric covering your mound. Your breath hitched, the cotton clinging to your lips. He traced over the indent of your pussy, never once taking the soiled fabric off your skin. It was torture, the way his finger pressed slow circles over your clit, the friction of the fabric against you driving you insane. “I want you so bad baby, please” you whined, pressing yourself into his hand. You just about cried with relief when you felt your husband’s fingers slip past the band of your panties, right into your entrance. You arched your hips up, chasing the pleasure.
Zuko smirked against your neck, curling his fingers deliciously against your g-spot, his fingers moving in and out of you steadily. “Zuko..” you sighed, trying your best to fuck yourself against his hand, your hips matching the push and pull of his fingers. “Yes, my love?” He murmured against your ear, knowing exactly what you wanted. But you knew your husband. You knew he wanted you to use your words. “I want you to fuck me..” you whispered, grinding down against his semi-hard dick the best you could with his hand in the way, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. Zuko groaned at the contact, looking into your eyes, glazed over in desperate arousal, lust dancing in his own golden irises. Faster than you could even think, Zuko picked you up off his lap, hastily laying you down on your shared bed. The cooling red silk of your bedsheets felt pleasant against your heated skin. He leaned down, pressing a heated kiss against your swollen lips and you him kissed back, sloppily sucking his tongue into yours, eagerly grabbing at anything you could reach on your husband’s body. Zuko matched your fervor, with his hands running down your sides, fingers hooking onto the hem of your night dress, rolling the fabric up over your thighs and exposing your clothed sex. He pulled the flimsy fabric off with ease, slowly dragging the soaked garment off of you, discarding it somewhere you didnt see, or care. His hands grabbed the underside of your knees, pulling your legs open and pushing them up to your chest, opening you up for your husband’s hungry gaze.
He was quick, dipping his head down and pressing a wet kiss on your mound, dragging a finger up your slit to spread your pussy open, revealing your soaked folds. Your body shivered, the warm air against your clit sending shockwaves up your spine. You felt so open, completely exposed and at your husband’s mercy. Zuko wasted no time, pressing his warm lips against your clit, he suckled on the sensitive bud slowly, parting from you just to press his hand over the surface of your mound, the firm pressure causing your clitorial hood to inch back, giving your him more access to your bundle of nerves. You whined when he resumed his ministrations, devouring your pussy whole. Your body jolted when his fingers entered your heat, the pleasure almost overwhelming your senses. Zuko moaned against you, eating you like a starved man and fucking his fingers into you, curling inside of you and massaging your walls. You gripped his dark locs, hips bucking into his mouth out of reflex. A warm pool began to form in your stomach, the familiar feeling setting your nerves a light. Zuko spread your thighs, burying his face deeper into you, pulling away from your clit to replace his fingers with his tongue, tasing you whole. You gasped from the welcome intrusion, legs closing around his head, holding him still against you. But your husband was having none of it. He aggressively spread your legs open, tongue fucking you with vigor, fingers coming up to rub quick swipes over your clit. It didn’t take you long for your to reach your release, your vision going white as your body convulsed above him. Chant after chant of Zuko’s name as he continued to eat you out, riding out your high. Your chest rose and fell, your breath labored as you looked down at your husband, his hair now tousled and free from the top knot he had neatly placed it in. His chin was shining with your essence, and his pupils were blown. Even with his disheveled appearance Zuko still looked so handsome, and you felt butterflies in your stomach, just as you had when you first met him. Zuko leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to your navel, leaning up towards you and capturing your lips with his. Then he moved back down to your neck, placing feather light kisses against your skin.
A few moments later you caught your breath, your husband still cuddling against your chest, sucking marks on whatever patch of skin he desired. You tugged at his thick robes, successfully pulling the heavy fabric off your husband’s body with his help. Your eyes racked over his body, drinking in the sight of him. Zuko didn’t bother to move the robes off the bed, instead kneeling on them as he pulled his undergarments off, his hard length slipping out, tip flushed and drooling with pre cum. You pushed your hand gently against his chest, laying him back down and reaching for his dick, wrapping your hand around him. You stroked him from base to tip, twisting your wrist around the head and thumbing over his slit, rubbing his pre cum into his skin. Watching your husband shudder and lean his head back in bliss was rewarding. You lowered down to take him into your mouth, tongue flat against the side of him. Zuko sucked in a sharp breath, his hips stuttering up into your mouth at the sensation. You gazed into his eyes as you swallowed him whole. Holding your breath to stop yourself from gagging, you bobbed your head up and down his entire length, breathing through your nose as best you could. Zuko let out a drawn out moan, throwing his head back. You watched him, face hidden from your view, dark hair splayed out on the pillows. You knew exactly how to make your husband fall apart, and you loved every second. You dragged you tongue up his length, wrapping your lips around his tip and sucking, hollowing your cheeks as you bobbed your head, focusing all your efforts where he was most sensitive.
Zuko had been reduced a mess above you, whining your name out and panting, begging you to bring him to orgasm. “Oh fuck baby.. just like that”, “youre doing so good baby”, “you look so pretty sucking my dick like this” were a few of the phrases he slurred, praising you as you pleased him exactly how he liked it. Your free hand came down to cup and rub his balls. Squeezing them gently in time with your bobbing head. You swallowed him down once more, choking against his length as you bobbed your head at his base, his tip hitting the back of your throat. You swallowed around him, sending him over the edge. Zuko took a deep breath as him came, his body going rigid as he spilled into your throat. A jumbled mess of curses and your name spilled from his lips as he drowned in bliss. Eventually you pulled off him, stroking his length to milk him for everything he had. Zuko shuddered, pushing your hand off him, feeling over stimulated. But if it was one thing your husband had, it was stamina. Giving himself a few seconds to recover, he was on you again. Flipping you on your back, he wasted no time situating himself between your legs, his flushed tip rubbing poking your skin and his hair curtaining around you as his body leaned over yours. You stared up into his eyes, so many different emotions swimming between you both. Longing, lust, and love. “I love you” he mumbled, leaning down to rub his nose against yours, kissing your lips sweetly. “I love you most, Zuko” you responded, lovingly placing your hand on his cheek, his pressed a kiss to your palm before leaning back up, taking his warmth with him. The loss was soon forgotten when you felt him enter you, your walls expanding to welcome him in. You let out a low moan, wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him closer, deeper. His pace started out slow, rubbing his warm hands down your thighs as he rolled his hips into you, fucking you deep. “Zuko..” you sighed, his name seemingly being the only word your fuzzy brain can remember. “I know baby..” he leaned down towards you again, mouth pressing a kiss to your ear. “Just let me take care of you” he whispered, threading your hands together. His pace soon picked up, his hips meeting your thighs with every thrust. The weight of his body on yours felt amazing, the obscene sounds of your wetness filling the room and fueling his libido. Every thrust into your heat was filled with longing, the same desperation you had reflecting in him as he fucked you eagerly. You shuddered as your husband moaned into your ear, letting out strings of curses and praise as he lost himself in you. “Fuck baby.. i love you, i love how you feel” he slurred, reaching between your sweating bodies to rub at your clit, urging you to near your end. You cried out as you felt his dick beat against your g-spot. Your walls contracting around him, the pleasure in your core almost too much to bear.
The silky sheets under you felt suffocating, seemingly trapping the heat of your bodies. The sensations you felt becoming overwhelming. “Yes baby, yes!” You cried as he continuously hit that spot inside of you, his relentless pace driving you further and further over the edge. “You fuck me so good baby, oh fuck!”your voice reduced to whines, rolling your hips to meet his, fucking him back. “Let it out baby, give it all to me” Zuko grunted in your ear, his own release creeping up behind him. He rubbed your clit in fast circles, desperately chasing your release, as well as his. Your body went rigid as you came, the breath forced out of your lungs. Your walls squeezed and spasmed around Zuko, who bottomed out inside of you, releasing deep into your pussy. He let out a deep groan, his eyes shut tight and his eyebrow furrowed as he lost himself in pleasure. It was a sight to behold, and you considered yourself lucky to have it reserved just for you.
After a few heartbeats Zuko pulled out of you, grabbing one of the towels the maids made sure to leave on your night stand. He dipped it in the water basin, heating up his palm to warm the cloth. He cleaned you up, carefully wiping the mess up from between your legs, pulling the top sheet off the bed and throwing it somewhere on the floor. You sighed in contentment when you were in his arms again, he had taken the canopy down from its posts, the dark curtains blocking out the candle light in your room. Happiness surged through you as you snuggled into him, your back pressed to his bare chest as he tenderly pressed kisses to your shoulder blades. “That was amazing” you whispered, cuddling into his bicep and closing your eyes, enjoying the afterglow. “Yeah, it was” he murmured, wrapping his arm around your mid-section. “I’m sorry i’ve been so busy my love.” He sighed, pulling the discarded duvet over “like i said, its okay baby. Being Firelord isnt an easy job.. your nation comes first” you sleepily assured him, nodding off in the warmth of his embrace. “But you matter too..i promise i’ll make time for us. I’ll ask my advisors for more help. I’ll get through this as quick as i can” you smiled against him, bringing his hand up to press a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “Okay baby” you mumbled “i love you…” “ i love you too, y/n. So, so much” he whispered, putting out the candles in your room, tugging you closer to him. You slept peacefully that night, and in the morning your husband helped himself to another serving of you, just as he always had before.
Reblogs and notes appreciated :> hope you enjoyed!
Edited and final proofread; 04/28/24
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sparklyeyedhimbo · 10 months
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thai characters that feel very pan-coded part 4/?
that dom lady da (big dragon)
parpai (love in the air)
pan (the shipper)
intouch (secret crush on you)
pisaeng (be my favorite)
this is it for now but if you have someoneelse that feels pan coded (can be from any not only thai drop them in my askbox ✨ now to the ace-coded charaters
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thebestofoneshots · 9 months
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sights | James Potter x Reader
Pairing: James Potter x Reader
Word Count: 5.9 k
Warnings: Smut, oral (Female and Male receiving), P in V, lots of praise, consent is sexy, lusty!James, he literally can't take his eyes off you.
Prompt: Inspired by the sense of sight, this fic tells the story of James Potter's first birthday as your boyfriend, and the secret gift you prepared for him a the end of the night.
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sights is part of The Five Senses: an anthology series where each chapter will be a stand alone story, inspired by the different ways we have of perceiving the world around us.
18+ readers only (smut under the cut)
James Potter gives the meanest cuddles. He always did. In the mornings you slept over, he wouldn’t want to let go of you, and at night time, when he would pretty much manhandle you until you were atop of him and held you tight between his strong arms as he rubbed soft circles on your back, under your shirt. He’d slowly find the hem of whatever shirt you wore, and pull it just enough to be able to slide his warm hand inside, he absolutely loved the feeling of your skin, how soft it was, how warm it was. He also loved how small you were in comparison to him, how he could warp his arms around you, and how you’d playfully push on him, but never really aimed to get out of his grasp. He loved the smell of your hair and the taste of your lips. He’d been bewitched, and he couldn’t help it. 
When you said you’d date him, after his last birthday party, he’d gone static, didn’t even sleep that night, just because he was thinking of how he’d get to give you a soft kiss in the morning once you two met at the common room. And he’d been the most devoted boyfriend you’d ever seen. The boys would always tease him about it, about how you’d get tired of his antics and date a normal boy instead, one who wasn’t eyeing you like a simp while in class, that wouldn’t send you love letters even if you lived almost across the other, Sirius once even joked you’d leave James for him since he was more handsome. The way you laughed after he said that had offended him so much he didn’t talk to you for a week. But what the boys didn’t know, was that you secretly loved all of James’ quirks, the way he’d hold your hands, the little notes he left, the way whenever he went to Honeydukes he’d bring back your favourite candy. No matter how you looked at it, James Potter was the best boyfriend in the world. And you wanted to be the best girlfriend too, so when his birthday and your first anniversary rolled around, you knew you wanted to make it the most special birthday of his entire life. 
Spring was just around the corner when Marlene and you sat over the common room couch browsing over some lingerie catalogues she’d gotten from her elder cousin. “This one’s nice,” she told you, pointing at a light green set. 
“Mhm…” you said with a nod, even if you weren’t convinced “It’s more your style thought, isn’t it?” 
Marlene shrugged “I guess… but I’m sure your golden boy would lust over you in it.” 
To be fair, James Potter would lust over you in shabby old cotton undies and a simple bra, heck he’d probably lust over you in a sack of potatoes if you allowed him to, but you wanted the day to be extra special, it had to be extra special. So you kept flipping through the pages along with Marlene, there were many beautiful sets, there was a light pink one that would look insane on Lily, so you and Marlene decided to get it for her together, half as a joke, half because you both genuinely thought it’d look incredible on her. There was a light blue one you decided to get for yourself, even if it was not the one you were looking for, there was a green and gold set you were tempted to get as well, but convinced yourself it was not what you were looking for and moved on, Marlene decided to get that one. You were almost tired of flipping through the pages and not finding what you wanted when Marlene gently flipped over one and you gasped “That’s it!”
It was a black little set, with enough layers to make James go crazy by unwrapping you. It had a black lacy bra and matching panties, the bra was sure to make your boobs look incredible with the new push-up technology the magazine claimed it had. But the set did not stop there, it came with a delicate bodysuit, also made out of lace, that would match perfectly with the bra and undies. The set was perfect.
“What’s it?” You heard James ask from the portrait as he spotted you, he was coming from a reunion with the rest of the prefects, his hair messy and beautiful as always. 
“Fuck,” you whispered as you hid the magazine in the folds of the sofa, which made James raise one of his eyebrows. 
“What were you looking at luv?” He asked with a teasing smile on his face. 
Marlene was about to say something clever to cover for you both, but you got ahead of her “p*rn.” Marlene deadpanned over at you, and you gave her an apologetic smile.
“Really?” James teased, “May I see?” 
He approached the two of you from behind and you kneeled on the sofa to face him, and to make it harder for him to just grab a hold of the magazine “Of course not James, you wouldn’t like it.” 
“Come on…” 
“They’re not your type of men.” 
“How would you know my type in men?” He pressed, half-jokingly.
You thought about it for a minute, and simply said “Regulus.” 
“What?” He asked confused. 
“Your type in men, it’d be Regulus. Sirius’ little bother.” 
The set of expressions he made afterwards was priceless. At first, he raised one of his fingers to object, and just when he was about to say something, he shut his mouth with a small little frown, after a couple seconds more he rose his eyebrows and nodded, agreeing with your statement “Maybe he would.” 
You smiled “See? (Y/N) knows best.” 
“You’re really not showing me are you?” 
You shook your head with a smile “Not apt for your beautiful eyes, sorry.” 
“Can I at least get a kiss?” He asked leaning in closer to you. 
You smiled, and leaned in to give him a quick little peck on the lips “You can always,” you told him with a smile. 
“Ugh, get a room you two,” Marlene said throwing a pillow towards your faces, that caused the two of you to laugh, and just to spite her even more, you pulled James for another kiss. 
“Don’t you have your extracurricular now?” He groaned in response. That was a yes. “Off you go then.” He leaned his forehead on yours for a moment, before nodding to go. 
“See you later luv.” He said as he approached the portrait again “Marlene.” He waved at her and once he was finally outside you let yourself lay on the couch, pulling out the now slightly crumbled magazine. 
“That was close.”
“No shit Sherlock! P*rn?!” She said with raised eyebrows. 
“I was caught off guard!” 
“Yeah, but that’s the worst excuse I’ve heard in my life.” 
“Well, I think he bought it.” 
“Yeah silly, that’s exactly my problem. Next time I see him he’ll be pestering me about showing you dirty stuff. And he’ll probably ask what type of men you were looking at.” 
You shrugged “Just say it was mine.” 
She rose an eyebrow “You really have no shame?” 
You were already opening the magazine again, looking at the set you were going to order “Whatever he thinks won’t matter, he’ll forget all about it on his birthday.” You said with a mischievous grin. Marlene leaned over the magazine to look at the set you were looking at. 
“He most definitely will.” She agreed after looking at the page. 
On the morning of the 27th, you set out to take a long bath, taking a self-care session by using all the different potions you and the girls had created together. By the time you came out of the bathroom, you were glowing. Even Mary whistled as she saw you walking out with a towel, as you looked for your uniform. 
“You already have it on?” Asked Marlene. 
“Have what on?” Asked Lily, looking up from her book. 
“James’ gift,” Marlene said with a smirk. 
“James’ gift, huh?” Lily said with a knowing smile. 
You shook your head “Not yet, I’ll put it on before the party.” 
“That didn’t stop you from lathering yourself with potions, did it?” Mary teased. 
“I have to make myself desirable, don’t I?” 
“Not to the point it’ll torture for him,” Mary said as she saw you pick your shortest skirt. 
Marlene shook her head “Nah, I’m with (Y/N), let Potter suffer for a couple of hours,” She said before grabbing one of her uniform shirts and passing it over “This one should be tighter.” You rose your eyebrows, but nodded, putting it on. It wasn’t super tight, but you used to wear rather loose school uniforms anyway. You fastened your tie and went to grab your vest, but Marlene grabbed your hand and shook her head, “Skip that today.” 
“But the prefects will deduct points from me for not wearing my uniform correctly.” 
Lily shook her head “It’s already spring,” she said “You’ll get away with it, just put on your robes on top, and say you took it off because it was hot if anyone says anything.” You rose an eyebrow at her and she shrugged in response “You’re the one that wants to look desirable.” 
“You’re the best, you knew that, right?” You told her with a smile. 
She smirked in return “So I’ve been told.” 
The first time James saw you that day it wasn’t in the common room like you expected, but in the Great Hall. He spotted you first and had to do a double take because you looked charming, even more so than normal. He wasn’t sure what it was, you certainly hadn’t gotten a haircut, or styled, but something about you was just, radiant, you looked absolutely radiant. 
When you finally spotted him, he was still short-circuiting over how stunning his girlfriend looked. From the curve of your hips, and your smooth legs, to how soft your hair looked. You, in turn, were also drooling over how handsome he looked in his quidditch sweater, the same sweater that gently stretched over his thick muscles. Once you finally reached the table where he sat with the boys, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and planted a soft kiss on his cheeks before letting your head fall next to his “Happy Birthday Bambi!” You told him and proceeded to lather his face with soft kisses. 
By then, Remus who had been sitting next to him, moved to the side so you could take a seat next to James. You smiled, and only after you’d given James at least a kiss for every year of his life, you took the seat in the space they’d left for you. 
James was smiling from ear to ear by the time you sat beside him, and leaned in to give you a kiss on the cheek before going back to his food. You’d already planned the entire day, Remus, thank Merlin for his kind soul, had convinced the boys to sleep in the common room so you and James could have the room for the night. Sirius, the wingman he was, had gotten a hold of some special potions so you and James didn’t have to worry about any accidents. Together you’d made sure to prepare the perfect party for James, there would be music, dancing, fireworks, and then, there would be you. 
Peter had taken care of most of the party preparations, he’d already invited all of James’ friends and had also convinced the elves of the kitchen to prepare some snacks. He had been the one to find the kitchens back in first year and he’d always been really good at convincing the elves to cook stuff for him. In the middle of breakfast, you all eyed each other, once the girls were downstairs and most of your friends were on the table, Sirius made a little signal for you, and you took out the small party blower you’d enchanted to be 10 times as loud. The moment you blew on it, the entire room went silent. And after taking a deep breath, your entire table started singing Happy Birthday. Eventually, people that knew Potter from other tables started singing, and even some of the newer kids joined in too. At some point, most of the classroom hall was singing for James, and once the song was over everyone clapped, James, being head boy, quidditch captain and pretty much the golden Gryffindor boy, was liked by almost the entire school, and it showed. 
Sirius had been tasked to distract James, so while you ran around the common room making sure everything was ready, he was flying around the quidditch pitch with your boyfriend. To be fair, you were jealous, but last year you’d been the one to distract him, and that’s how the two of you had ended up all over each other on the bleachers. And you were pretty sure James would want to repeat it, so you decided it was best to let someone else distract him and save the gift for the night. 
“The fireworks have been placed, right?” Remus asked as he walked closer to you. 
You nodded in response “In position, I’ve also got the mix tape Sirius made ready on the music player.”
Remus smiled “You should stay and help with preparations more often, you’re great at it.”
You smiled “Promise I’ll help prepare your party then.”
“They’re coming!” You heard Peter say as ran inside the common room. 
You smiled and went to your hiding spot, along with everyone else, when James came inside, everyone jumped from their places and shouted “Happy Birthday James!” Your boyfriend had a massive smile on his face, as the people who hadn’t already congratulated him piled around him to fill him with hugs and celebrations over his existence. You smiled too, seeing James so happy was absolutely contagious. Especially with the war and the serious things had gotten, it was nice to see him completely forget about it, even if it was just for a day. 
As you were grabbing onto a glass of whatever alcoholic beverage the boys had managed to smuggle inside the castle, you felt James hug you from behind, wrapping his strong arms around you and laying his head over your shoulder “Why’ve you been so far away?” he asked with a pout.
“What do you mean James? I’ve been right here.”
“Yeah, here, not next to your boyfriend, where you should be.” You laughed and turned around to look at him instead, he placed his hands over your hips and started playing with the top hem of your skirt “I was kinda bummed it wasn’t you flying with me today.”
“Awww… Jammie, I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” You said as you played with his hair.
“When?”
You smiled mischievously, “How does later tonight sound?”
James rose his eyebrows, he’d wanted to claim you the moment he saw you in the Great Hall, and the restraint it took him not to push you over the small table with all the refreshments right then was remarkable.
“Come on,” You told him when you noticed his pupils were blown out, “We still have some party left to enjoy,” You winked, before pulling him to the little area where all of his friends were hanging out. 
You all talked for a while, until it was time for dancing, and Sirius walked towards the stereo, switching the background music to some of the more danceable tunes. You smiled and went straight to dancing with Mary, James was still sitting on the sofa, talking to Remus, when you decided you wanted to torture him, even if it was just a little bit and started swaying your hips for him to notice. At first, he’d been too distracted, but eventually, he did see you, and once he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop. Your ass looked incredible in that outfit. 
“Mate, you’re staring at her ass,” Remus informed, which had James snap from his trance.
“No, I–”
“–No shame for it,” Remus said raising both of his hands “Just don’t make it so blatantly obvious, people will think you’re a perцert.”
James sighed and placed his hands over his head as he leaned back over the sofa, and just as he wasn’t looking you went straight to the sofa and sat on his lap.
He almost jumped in surprise, but quickly managed to smell it was just you. And he pulled you in closer “Tired of dancing so much?” He mumbled. 
You shook your head “Came to drag you to dance with me, actually.” You told him with a smile. 
“I’m not sure I want to-“ He started but shut up the moment you rolled your hips against his lap. 
“Promise I’ll make it worth it.” You whispered, Remus heard it anyway and snickered before standing up and finding someplace else.
“Baby, now I can’t even stand up,” James said with a frown, he’d gotten a semi-hard. And just to tease him, you rolled your hips again, which had him tightening his grip on your waist. “Let’s just walk upstairs and have a quickie before-“ You rolled your hips again “-fuck (Y/N), you can’t just do that!” he pretty much groaned. 
You smiled when you felt how hard he was, dick pressing to your ass the way you liked it, you wondered how it would feel to have James on that particular sofa, but shook your thoughts away, maybe on a different day. “Sorry Jemmie, we can’t do quickies today,” You said with a shrug and stood up. He didn’t even have enough time to drag you back down on him and had to grab a pillow to cover himself up instead. He narrowed his eyes at you as you smiled at him from the dance floor, still beckoning for him to come dance. He gave you a look, nodding down to the pillow and you giggled, shrugging with a smile and joining Marlene and Mary on the dance floor. 
“Girl, your boyfriend may explode if you continue to treat him like that,” said Marlene. 
You shook your head “Nah, he likes it,” you told her, turning to James with a little wink, before turning back to your friend. 
The fireworks came about an hour later, and people were starting to leave the Gryffindor common room, going back to their own houses or to their rooms. There was a couple making out on one of the sofas and someone passed out on the couch. And as more and more people left, you couldn’t help but feel excited about your own little party upstairs. 
James came towards you, a little desperate as you stood near the window, looking at the night sky, and the smoke residue the fireworks had left. “Can we please go upstairs now? Before the boys want to get to sleep, I’m sure we can have at least a bit of fun,” he pretty much begged. 
You smiled, “I was waiting for you to ask,” you responded as you reached for his hand, omitting the fact that he didn’t have to worry about the boys walking upstairs on that particular night. 
The moment James closed the door he had you pinned against it, his leg finding its way between yours as he kissed you desperately. You let him, there was something about the rush mixed with the possibility of getting caught that always turned James on. When he started to pull on your shirt, to slide his hands underneath, he seemed puzzled since he didn’t find skin, but lace instead. That's when you stopped him, placing both hands on his shoulders softly, which pulled an even more confused look out of him. 
“No need to rush darling,” you told him with a smirk “I’ve made arrangements, the boys will not sleep here today.” 
James pulled a diverted smile “Arrangements, huh?”
You nodded, the playful expression being mirrored in your face, leaning into him to whisper in a low tone “We’ve got all night.” 
“And the… uhm–“ he cleared his throat “the lace?” 
You smiled again, “Your birthday gift,” you told him matter-of-factly “wanna unwrap it?” You offered, almost casually, which had James’ head rolling with the dizziness that came along with the excitement. You gently pulled his arm and moved the two of you towards the bed, having him sit on it, before straddling him and going back to press your lips against his own, separating only to kiss his neck instead as he finally started to unbutton your shirt. 
James was not in a rush anymore, in fact, he was taking his sweet time with the buttons, as if discovering what the lacy thing under the shirt was something that he should relish on, rather than rush to. Finally, when his hand undid the final button he gently pulled your arms from his shoulders so he could fully remove the shirt. You rocked your hips against him, as you’d done earlier, but now his boner was pressing against your cunt, the friction from the lace and his hard cock making you wet instantly. 
Eventually, he pulled you from his neck, he wanted to see you. You pulled back, hands still over his shoulders as you tilted your head to the side with a little smile “Like what you see?” He buckled his hips against you in response, the little black set you’d chosen was doing things to him he didn’t believe possible. He was obsessed with the way the little leotard thing was just sheer enough for him to be able to see your skin, the curve of your breasts and your hardened nipples. “Speak baby,” you commanded. 
“Of course… I fucking love it.” He told you, which just fueled your resolve even more, separating from him, and kneeling on the floor right in front of the boy. You started undoing his belt when he gave you a look “You’re not gonna… are you?” 
You shrugged “My birthday boy deserves the best of treatments.” You replied, continuing your task, you looked absolutely stunning kneeling on the floor for him, skirt pooled on the floor around you, almost completely covering your legs. You looked like a flower, the prettiest he’d ever seen; your breasts just at the right angle for him to relish on the view he had of them. And your pretty lips, you were bitting on them, as if you couldn’t restrain yourself from sucking him a minute more. James wasn’t even sure if he was even gonna last all the way to the moment you placed your pretty lips around him, heck, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever been that turned on in his life.  
When you finally pulled the hem of his boxer and took him out, he gasped, you did not waste any time, and started to softly pump him, using your free hand to massage his inner tight. You started slow, almost agonizingly slow, until you finally started to pick up the pace, he saw the way you licked your lips before leaning down, and he had to restrain himself from buckling his hips against your face, gripping on the bed sheets until his knuckles were white. You started with a soft lick along his shaft, James shivered the moment he felt your wet tongue on his delicate skin. After that, you went for the tip, small kitten-like licks at first, like you were testing the waters. This was not the first time you’d ever blowed James, but he wasn’t one to ask for it, he felt too self-conscious to do it, like he was asking you to do something you didn’t particularly like. He couldn’t be more wrong, you absolutely adored toying with him. 
His tip was by far the most sensible part, and he was in awe, staring at you with his breath stuck in his throat as you licked away, alternating between licks and your fingers toying with the nib.
When your mouth finally wrapped around him, he let out the most sinful moan you’d ever heard in your life. Which had you hum in response, your little sound causing your entire throat to reverberate over his cock, and he couldn’t stop himself from buckling up on you. “‘’Mm sorry, kitten” he mumbled, James Potter was above else: a true gentleman. 
You smiled, and took him in deeper, bobbing your head up and down his length. “…fuck… your pretty little mouth is so–“You tightened your grip around him a little and pumped “–Aah.” You were already picking up the piece, James was so close, already involuntarily buckling his hips against you, but he then placed a gentle hand over your shoulder, and pulled you back, a thin string of spit connected you with him still when he spoke “ss-stop,” he managed to say, breathing heavily as you looked at him confused. 
You wiped your mouth with your hand “But you were about to… I- I thought…” 
“I am…” he reassured “I don’t want to yet…” he told you, and then moved his hand over to the back of your neck, you leaned your head on his touch “I haven’t even unwrapped my gift completely,” he said in a flirty tone. You rose your eyebrows at that, and he helped you rise from the floor, the little marks from the rug had itched on your knees, and he looked at you with what you’d only be able to recognize as despair “Kitten…” he reproached. 
“It’s nothing Jemmie, doesn’t hurt much.” 
He shook his head, “Next time we’ll place a pillow, my best girl will not be in pain as she gives me pleasure.” You smiled, James really was the best boyfriend in the world. He then softly wrapped his arms around your waist “May I?” He asked as he toyed with the back button of your skirt. 
“It’s your gift, James, you can do whatever the hell you want with it tonight,” you told him in a low tone, James’ pupils were so blown out after you said that, that his eyes almost looked entirely black, it was the most lustful you’d ever seen him. He carefully unbuttoned the skirt, and pulled the zipper down, allowing the skirt to gently fall over the floor as he stared. And fuck you were so pretty, he couldn’t believe you were actually his, to touch, to kiss, to love.
He stared at you, lips parted and pink, heavy breaths making his chest fall up and down gently, and then he placed his hands over your shoulders, letting them gently slide down your arms, admiring you as he pulled you towards the bed. He placed you there, and then placed himself on top, his knees around your legs and his hands next to your shoulder to hoover above you “fuck…” he all but whispered, “You look so beautiful in this thing.” 
You smiled, realizing how he looked up and down your body, not sure himself how to start “What do you want James?” You whispered seductively. 
“I want to taste you,” he responded simply. 
“Do you now?” You teased “Then go ahead baby!” 
As if he was waiting for that moment, he grabbed onto the straps of the bodysuit and started to pull them down your arms, and then down your torso, the lack of fabric had made the bra even sheerer, allowing him to see your breasts in a better light, and he stared at them for a moment before he continued his task of pulling the body suit down. Once he was done, he went up again and started to caress your legs, spreading them lightly open as he placed soft wet kisses over your inner tight.
And then, since you were expecting his mouth, you were absolutely shocked as he used his free hand to trace over your slit, still over the fabric of the lacy panties “fuck” he swore, “you’re so wet for me.” 
At that moment, James Potter lost control, he all but pushed the thin fabric to the side and started to toy with your folds “So fucking wet,” he added, still tracing kisses on your legs, and then, he finally moved his mouth to you, starting with a long lick over your slit “you smell delightful,” he added. You moaned his name as he did, and he just smiled in return, you didn’t see it, but you felt him smile against your cunt. Then his mouth went straight to your clit, and he alternated between soft licks and hard sucks. At some point your legs closed around his face, involuntarily, he chuckled, relishing how good he knew he was making you feel. 
He then placed both hands over your legs and pulled them back down, “spread open for me, will you?” 
You nodded in response, aching for him to go back to what he was doing just seconds ago, you involuntarily buckled your hips against him, looking at his playful smirk as you did, he then placed a hand over your hips, putting on a little force, to keep you on on the bed as he went back to kiss you. As he continued to suck, you started to lose control of yourself again, battling against his hand in an attempt to buckle your hips onto his mouth, but his hold was strong, so instead you lowered your hands and inter winded them onto his hair, pressing him down on you, he all but groaned as you did so and then placed one of his fingers inside of you, curling it and moving it around as he got you ready for the next part. 
Another suck and you were on cloud 9, feeling the familiar tension build up so much, you felt like you’d blow up “Jamie, I think I’m gonna, ah-“ you trailed off as he sucked. 
“Cum for me baby,” he whispered, “cum all over my face.” 
 And you did, moaning his name as you buckled your hips against his face, he had released his tight grip on you, and you could feel his smile against you again, he continued to move his hand over you, his thumb had replaced his mouth, and he was just staring at you with a lustful expression as you rode his hand though your high. He was just enjoying the view, the little fucker. 
When you finally relaxed, your breaths were heavy, lips red and parted from biting on them, and he couldn’t help himself, and went back straight for a kiss, to your lips, this time around. You could taste yourself on him, and there was something about knowing that it was you who he’d been down on that made your arousal start again. You buckled your hips against him, your sex lightly brushing against his hard cock as you did “I’m not gonna fucking last if you keep teasing me like that.” He reproached. 
“I don’t care, baby, come on!” You said as you buckled your hips again. He looked at you another time, before nodding. He used his hand to bring your underwear down and discarded it somewhere. He leaned in to kiss your neck as he traced his tip over your slit. You buckled your hips against him again, causing his skin to move up and down and he gripped the bedsheets around your face tight, “Stop teasing Jemmie…” 
And he did, with a long and sharp thrust, he was balls deep inside you. You gasped, James always took his time to get in, he really must be desperate. Regardless of his own needs, James stayed like that for a second, relishing on the sensation before you tightened yourself around him “…fuck…” he all but whispered, “You know I love it when you do thaaaaa–t,” his last word coming out strained since you’d done it again. And then you buckled your hips against him, signalling he could start. 
Long, slow trust at first, taking himself almost completely out before going back in, over and over again. At some point, he lifted himself from your neck and started to look at you, and then back down at your breasts, as he thrusted in and out he used one of his hands to softly trace over the valley of them, right where the lace ended. He was teasing you, you realized when his fingers traced just around your nipples, not daring to touch them. You used your hand to place his against your breast, nodding as you had him cup it, he smiled cheekily at your reaction and finally dragged the lacey fabric down, exposing your beautiful breasts. He pinched and twisted them softly, making you moan his name and tighten your walls sound him as he did. He was enjoying the view, and how could he not? You were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, from the shine in your eyes, your pink lips from biting down your moans all the way to your tight little cunt.
“Fuck me! you’re so tight,” he praised, and you buckled your hips against him in response. 
“It’s what I’m doing baby,” you responded, and he started to pick up the pace, faster, shorter thrusts, he dragged his hand down and started to rub your clit, gently pressing his hand over it a couple of times before starting to circle it a lot faster. He was about to cum, he only did that when he wanted you to cum along with him. You buckled your hips against him, and you were already being dragged over the edge by this boy, you relished on the feeling, you started seeing white, and roughly gripped his thick forearm, not realizing the way your nails had dug onto him. 
James didn’t realize it either, he was too preoccupied looking at your face, trying to carve on his brain the expression you had on your face, you looked so stunning as the pleasure drew over your face, short breaths, brows furrowed for a second before opening your eyes back up to look at him, you smiled softly, and that was all it took for him to come all over you with a deep moan. Thrusting getting sloppy as he continued to move until he was completely emptied. James Potter placed a soft kiss on your mouth before gently, and softly pulling himself out of you, you almost complained, missing the way he had been filling you up so perfectly. You felt his cum drip down your legs as he lay on the side, he pulled his wand from the side of the bed and cleaned you up with a little wave of it. 
“And here I thought nothing would top last year's birthday when you said you’d be my girlfriend,” he said, breaths still heavy as the two of you stared at the top of the bed. You smiled at his words, and then sat on the bed, starting to try and spot your undies, but Merlin knows where James had thrown them too. “Hey!” He said, dragging you down on the bed when he realized what you were doing “Where do you think you’re going?” 
“Clothes…” you said, as he pulled you into his chest. 
“No clothes–“  
“–But James…” you started to argue. 
“Let me finish,” he whispered sternly “No clothes… yet.” You turned to him, eyes opened wide in surprise, “You’re the one that said we had all night.” He replied afterwards. 
“But you already…” 
“Yeah,” he nodded, and motioned down to his cock, which was starting to twitch again “…but darling, you look absolutely charming tonight.”  
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A/N: this is my second smut piece ever, and holly shit it got out of hand, when I checked my word count I had already written like 3k words of pure SMUT, I was shocked. But, positive side is, I feel like I'm finally getting the hang of it? The Five Senses was born as a way for me to practice writing smut for my brand new Wolfstar x Reader series that's currently being posted on a weekly basis. If you have feedback, please leve it in the comment below. I absolutely love reading your comments <3
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teamatsumu · 2 months
Text
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screenshot. (kita shinsuke x reader)
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summary: your friend confesses on your behalf. for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions.
word count: 1161
tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead d @priv-rose @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @sp1ng @kur0obaby @bleach-your-panties @pinkiipeachiikeen @whippedbel
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Many of Kita’s friends and volleyball teammates think he is a stickler for routine. And they are right. But Kita isn’t rigid. He isn’t unchangeable. He accepts a break in routine, takes it in stride, learns from the turning tides and comes back with a smile on his face. Why else would he be the captain of the volleyball team if he didn’t know how to assimilate with rapidly developing circumstances?
Today, he is confronted with another such change. He is staring it right in the face. For a few moments, Kita cannot fathom the sight. How can it be? A red envelope in his locker? Surely, it must not be meant for him.
His next thought is how it got there in the first place. No one besides the volleyball team is allowed in the club room. He is the one who always opens it and he is also the one who locks up every night. Did someone sneak in during practice time?
Nothing else in his locker seems out of place. Just the letter placed delicately on top of the rest of his belongings. Kita finally reaches out for it, tugging on the flap to detach it and pulling out the crisp white paper inside. Kita is halted in his tracks when he realizes that there is no writing on the paper. It’s a print-out. Of a screenshot.
He eyes the text message chain, recognising the small icons on both the sender and receiver’s text bubbles. It’s Suna, his underclassman, and he also recognises you, the manager and his long time best friend.
‘I can’t stand it anymore suna!’
‘then just tell him’
‘u know i cant’
‘thats a u problem’
The next message is long, bordering on a whole paragraph, and Kita’s eyes skim over it. For the first time in a long while, his heart skips.
‘ive known him forever rin. hes such an amazing person and my best friend but he doesn like me that way. if i tell him im just gonna lose him as a friend and id rather we be friends than nothing at all’
The punctuation is atrocious, and the grammar is slightly questionable, but Kita smiles regardless. He carefully folds the paper again, placing it inside the envelope. He closes his locker and continues his evening routine of cleaning up and locking the club room.
Over the next hour as Kita cleans, his thoughts mull over the letter he had just received. The menial nature of the tasks relaxes him, gives him time to mull over this new information. Kita realizes that maybe he isn’t as perceptive as previously thought by his friends.
How can he have not seen that look in your eyes before? Softer than anything and directed only at him, now that he thinks about it. He ponders over your words, the insecurity and negativity behind them. He has never known you to be a negative person. You are endlessly optimistic and full of energy. You are so bright that Kita loves basking in it. He has known you for a very long time, and he is almost affronted that your budding romantic feelings were hidden from him for so long. Especially when Kita has made his courting intentions for you fairly clear.
He has not directly said anything. But he doesn’t think he was ever being discreet. But maybe he has been wrong in his approach. Maybe you hooking your arm with his when you walked to school in the morning, sharing lunches every day, permanently stealing a few of his choice hoodies were all friendly gestures on your part. While Kita has interpreted the gestures as romantic, it seems you have not felt the same heat behind those actions.
Kita has always walked the same route home, sometimes with Aran, sometimes with you, and sometimes on his own. Today he takes the walk alone, but he is not bothered. He has purpose in his mind, the red envelope in his hand, and his feet carry him all the way through the winding streets until he stops at your doorstep.
He smiles at the surprise in your eyes when you receive him at the door. He nearly coos at the fuzzy slippers on your feet, huge and with bunny ears on them, making your feet look twice their usual size. You are so cute. Kita scolds himself lightly, regretting that he had wasted so much time as your friend when maybe he could have spent it with you as his romantic partner. His girlfriend.
It has a nice ring to it, Kita decides.
“Shinsuke?” Your voice breaks his train of thought. The ‘what are you doing here’ is clear in your voice. Your eyes are wide and your face is questioning. There is a tinge of worry on your face, and Kita realizes that showing up unannounced may not have been the best idea. He isn’t sure what is going on in your head, but he quickly tries to quash your worries.
“Everything is fine.” Clear, direct, to the point. It’s Kita being Kita. “I’m here about something I found in my locker while closing up.”
He holds up the red envelope, and when you stare at it in confusion, he proceeds to open it and pull out the white paper. You take it when he offers it to you, unfolding it and reading the letter. If you can call it that.
Kita watches the color drain from your face, notices how the panic overtakes your features as you recognise the conversation printed in front of you. He feels his shoulders slump a little, lamenting the fact that you are truly scared about him finding out. What do you think he will do? Has Kita truly not made his intentions for you clear enough? He cannot help but self loathe in that moment, seeing the state you were in now.
“Shin-”
He doesn’t let you finish.
“If you will allow it, I would like to take you out for dinner this weekend. Will you be free on Saturday?”
You blink once, twice. Your mouth opens and closes. Kita is acutely reminded of a fish. He tries to tamp down his smile.
“R-really?”
He merely nods.
Slowly, life reinjects into your face. You seem to age in reverse before his very eyes. Your grip on the letter crinkles the paper slightly, and Kita reaches out to gently pry it from your hands and smooth it out. He stays quiet as you process his words. He thinks of hugging you, maybe even kissing you. But stops himself. Those are moments he will reserve for after your first date, after he has properly given you the best date of your dreams. So he keeps his eyes on the letter.
“Remind me to thank Suna for this letter.” He comments. “I must say, it’s the strangest confession letter I have ever received.”
There is a pause.
“You’ve received other confession letters?!”
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732 notes · View notes
munsonslove · 2 years
Note
Your smut is top tier, truly.
Would you consider writing something along the lines of a secret admirer situation - Sub reader develops a crush on Eddie after she's been buying weed from him for a while and begins secretly leaving suggestive notes in Eddie's locker detailing some of her fantasies about him until one day he finally manages to connect the dots during their latest drug deal in the woods. Maybe the reader, although had planned to eventually confess her identity, didn't expect him to figure it out at that moment and is initially pretty embarrassed until it all leads to some very sloppy/kinky sex in the middle of the woods. Degradation, spanking, little bit of daddy kink and whatever else you think might make it more saucy, please. Go nuts :)
Mystery Girl
(18+ only)
a/n: sorry i haven't posted in a bit, my life is in shambles. the good news is i think i'm over being sad and have moved on to apathy, so enjoy the filth!
summary:  A stupid mistake leads Eddie to figuring out you were the one leaving dirty love notes in his locker for months.
wordcount: 5.9k
tags/warnings: fem!sub!reader, dom!Eddie, smut, praise kink, degradation, daddy kink, fingering (f receiving), p in v penetration, dacryphilia, spanking, choking, hair pulling, light bondage (hands tied behind back), light drug use, discussions of safe words, no use of y/n
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It had been too many months to count since you started leaving the love letters. While you didn’t personally attend Hawkins High anymore, you still find yourself there fairly often thanks to licenseless friends that haven’t yet graduated. They’re all in school clubs, which sometimes leads to them running late when you’ve promised to pick them up. It would be rather annoying if it didn’t grant you the opportunity to sneak into the school and leave your notes to Eddie in his locker. Eddie was your dealer- introduced through a cousin of a friend- and after many late nights of smoking together he eventually became something akin to a friend in his own right. Maybe if you didn’t have such a pathetic crush on him you’d be able to more confidently accept his companionship, but for the meantime you only see him when you’re buying drugs (or doing drugs with him).
“Got another one,” he says, sprawled out in the back of his van while sparking up a joint he rolled for the both of you. “This one was pretty raunchy.”
He passes you the joint once it’s lit, too much of a gentleman to abide by the bad luck rule of the roller being the first to take a hit. “Oh really?” you ask, holding the end up to your mouth and feigning interest. “Raunchy how?”
He told you about it, but you of course already knew how. From the very first letter you left for him, Eddie’s been bragging to you all about his secret admirer. In the beginning, it was all very innocent. You would write about how you’d seen him around, how you found him funny and cute, stuff of that nature. But after a smoke sesh accidentally resulted in over indulging, he confided in you exactly what he’d like to do to this ‘Mystery Girl’ if he ever learned her identity. He would describe sexual acts you’d never heard of before, and was very blasé about it all despite the sensitive nature. The way he explained his fantasies about you (even though he didn’t know it was you he was talking about) brought warmth to your cheeks- and between your legs. It encouraged you to go further with your letters. You started detailing how you’d imagine him late at night, how you thought about his lips on you when you had your fingers circling your clit, how you’d wish your soft fingers were his calloused ones. Eddie seemed eager to share this development with someone, and to your rotten luck that someone was you.
He continued showing you what you wrote, unaware that he was just reading you back your own dirty secrets. Before you knew it, everything had snowballed out of control. The letters were filled with your wildest perversions and the subject of them was none the wiser. The possibility of him finding out and being so uncomfortable that he no longer wished to be kind-of-friends scared the living shit out of you, but no matter how many times you swore you were done with this bad habit you found yourself crawling back to that notebook with so many pages torn out. You really did try to stop it, but the next day Eddie would excitedly pull out a folded up piece of paper and the lovestruck look on his face as he talked about someone who actually wanted him was too much reward to not go through with the risk.
“Well,” he started as he watched the orange glow from your inhale fade away as you blew out the smoke, “she started it off by saying she wants to feel my rings on her neck while I choked her from behind.”
He laughed as he said this, so you laughed along with him. The memory of putting pen to paper and writing this came to you, but you hardly felt embarrassed anymore. You had written much, much worse. The anonymity allowed you to freely express yourself, and he seemed happy enough to hear it. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty to be keeping a secret like this, especially when you weren’t even sure he would feel the same if he ever learned the truth.
“That’s a little much,” you reply, passing the joint to him. He takes it happily, but shakes his head no.
“It’s sexy as hell, is what it is.” There’s a far off, dreamy look in his eyes as he takes his own short puff. “I’m telling you, whoever this is is my dream girl. If only I could catch her in the act, I’d drag her from my locker straight to this spot without even saying anything and eat her out in the school parking lot.” As he says this, he pays down on the blanket under you both.
“You’re not any closer in this mission?” you ask, squeezing your thighs together and storing that mental image away for later. He’s been obsessed with trying to figure out who was leaving these gifts in his locker, but thankfully he’s never been too hot on your tail.
“I just can’t find a pattern,” he grumbles. “It’s too random! All I got is the notes never show up during classes, so she has to either be coming way early in the morning or leaving them after school.” It was the latter, but you weren’t going to say that. “I’m going to find out who she is though, mark my words.”
“Well, good luck with that,” you laugh, crossing your fingers in the pocket of your hoodie.
A few days pass, and the weight on your shoulders doesn’t lighten. You’ve come to the conclusion that you have to fess up. It was the right thing to do, and Eddie wasn’t the type to judge unless being judged first. So hopefully in the unfortunate circumstance that he doesn’t return your feelings your acquaintanceship would still remain intact. 
The woods behind the school were dim. The sun was just setting and dusk was falling over Hawkins. You were overdue for a re-up, and after a phone call to the Munson residence you were instructed to wait where the two of you usually do deals. You already weren’t overly fond of Eddie’s unsettling choice of a meeting spot, and now that the sun was starting to set earlier in the day that chill in your spine was especially present. The one thing distracting you from your paranoia was the fact that he’d surely bring up the note you’d left for him yesterday, and you were dreading having to play pretend again. You were going to come clean- you promised yourself- but today was not the day. Deep in your thoughts about how and when you were eventually going to do it, you nearly jump out of your skin when a twig snaps behind you.
“Just me,” Eddie calls out from the opening in the trees, “don’t get your panties in a twist.”
“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you respond with a shaky laugh as he saunters toward you with total ease, completely unaffected by the eerie creepiness of the darkening forest.
“I cannot tell a lie,” he says back once he’s within arms reach of you. He looks you up and down with an unfamiliar expression, but your growing anxiety forces you to hold back the questions that you’re tempted to ask him.
“Here,” you say, holding up a ten and a five. He takes it from you wordlessly and tucks it into his back pocket before slipping his hand into his leather jacket and fishing out a small ziplock baggie. You catch it midair when he tosses it to you, and the prickling sensation of his eyes never leaving your face has you itching to lessen the tension.
“Why do we have to meet here?” you ask, hoping that making light conversation will break Eddie from whatever weird mood he’s in. “You know I hate it.”
He finally takes his eyes off of you so that he can roll them, his teeth glinting in the small amount of light when he smiles wide. “I’ve told you time and time again, no one comes out here. We’re safe, we’re alone.”
His emphasis on the word ‘alone’ strikes you as rather strange, but you elect to ignore it.
“Besides,” he continues with a nonchalant shrug, “it’s not like you ever showed me where you live.”
“Oh,” you murmur, taken aback. You could have sworn you’ve seen him driving past your house before, and you could have sworn he waved back when you did. Maybe he didn’t realize it was you? Maybe he only waved to be polite? “Well, uh… I can tell you now, I guess? Unless you want me to, like, write it down somewhere. Do you have a pen or something?”
Eddie reaches back into his jacket pocket and pulls out a black sharpie before shrugging off the leather and denim vest combo to lay it on the picnic table. “Ink me up,” he says, handing the marker to you and presenting his forearm.
Uncapping the marker, you take his arm in your hands. Your fingers brush his bat tattoos as you angle his arm toward you, and you have to fight to keep your face neutral as you write out your address. Your skin tingles yet again with the feeling of Eddie’s gaze on you as you drag the felt tip over his skin, and you don’t even realize you were holding your breath until you recap the marker and give it back to him. He takes it without breaking eye contact and tossing it next to his discarded jacket. Finally, he looks away to read his arm, and his face breaks out into a toothy grin. He barks out a short laugh, throwing his head back with glee as you watch him with a curious expression.
“What is it?” you ask. You can’t find any reason he would find where you live to be funny, so his uncalled for reaction was very puzzling.
He lowers his head to look at you once more, his smile never faltering. “Your handwriting,” is all he offers as an explanation, and with a start you realize your mistake.
Your eyes go wide as you drop the plastic baggie and it lands at your feet. Your stomach flips, your hands shake, you don’t know what to do. “Uh, i-it’s not… I don’t- um,” you stutter out, desperately searching for some kind of excuse or alibi. From the way you’re scrambling, the truth is crystal clear.
“You left me a note yesterday,” he says, cutting you off and placing his hands on your shoulder to help calm your panicking. “You wrote something that reminded me of the other day, when we were smoking in the back of my van. Do you remember?” You simply shake your head in response, your tongue feels too heavy in your mouth to form words. “I said that thing about wanting to find out who ‘Mystery Girl’ is and eat her out in the parking lot.”
The memory floods back to you, his voice reverberating in your mind. ‘If only I could catch her in the act, I’d drag her from my locker straight to this spot without even saying anything and eat her out in the school parking lot.’ Now that he’s mentioned it, you can’t believe what a foolish blunder you’ve made. His description weaseled its way into your subconscious, and without thinking through your actions you had accidentally echoed his fantasy back to him in your most recent letter. That, combined with the proof of your handwriting, was too much evidence to talk your way out of this situation. The only thing left to do was hope that he felt the same.
“You’re not upset?” you ask, something foreign swirling in your stomach and rising to your chest.
“… Upset?” he scoffs, like the mere suggestion was absurd. “I hoped it was you from the very first note.”
That leaves you speechless. All those long nights of tossing and turning over whether or not he’d ever look at you the way you looked at him suddenly feel silly. You’re so taken aback that you forget to respond, and you stand there unmoving with his hands on you. Time moves slowly as you watch him bridge the gap between the both of you.
His lips meet yours hungrily. You can tell from the determination behind the kiss that he’s done holding back, which works out greatly in your favor considering that you are too. Fingernails scratch your scalp as he tangles his fingers into your hair and tugs, eliciting a high pitched gasp from you. With your mouth now opened, he wastes no time and licks his way in. He tastes sweet, like he had a cola before coming here, but also like he had a smoke or two. It doesn’t bother you, in fact it only turns you on more. Your hands grasp at his shirt, and the fabric is softer than you figured it would be. It’s slightly worn out and obviously well loved, and the thought of you wearing it around his trailer after spending the night in his bed has you almost purring. Without warning, Eddie snakes his arm around your waist and manhandles you to be sitting on the edge of the table. He’s standing over you, staring you down with a wild look in his eyes.
“You’ve been a very bad girl,” he growls as he strokes your cheekbone with his thumb. His other hand rests on the front of your throat, applying light pressure. His grip tightens when you swallow, and his thumb on your cheek moves down to swipe across your lips, threatening to enter. “Acting like a naughty fucking slut. Driving me crazy with your filthy little love letters. I think it’s about time we act out a few of them, don’t you?”
“H- here?” you ask. Warmth trickles throughout your body at the insinuation, and though you know you should be opposed, the suggestion of him taking you right here in the woods sounds like heaven.
His eyes soften briefly, and his hold on your throat loosens. “I promise we’re alone, don’t worry. But we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“I want to,” you quickly proclaim as you wrap both of your hands around the wrist by your neck and keep him there firmly, making sure he doesn’t let go. “I want this, Eddie. I want you.”
He smiles sweetly and tightens his grip on your neck once more. “I want you too, sweetheart,” he whispers before wetting his lips and speaking up, “Okay. If I do something you don’t like, say ‘red light’. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” you confirm, nodding your head as best as you can with his hand in the way.
“I won’t stop unless you say ‘red light’, that’s very important. Not even if you say ‘no’, or ‘stop’, or if you start crying. You get what I’m telling you?” His expression is deadly serious, but his tone is slightly patronizing. For some reason, the manner in which he’s talking like he knows more than you is extremely arousing, and you want nothing more than to give in to him and let him take control. 
He won’t continue until he knows you’re well versed with the arrangement, so you force down any nervousness in your voice as you respond. “Yes, Eddie. I understand what you’re telling me,” you say, eagerness thinly veiled. You sound desperate, even to yourself, but you can’t find it in you to care.
He lets go of you, causing your hands to slip off of his arm, and he pushes you harshly so that your back meets the wood. Your feet leave the ground as he raises your legs and scoots you back on the table until you’re fully laying on it lengthwise. Both of your wrists are pinned above your head before you even realize what’s happening, and he’s climbing on top of you and crashing his lips to yours yet again. You’re completely trapped, unable to move or even squirm with his full weight weighing you down, but you love it. Your head feels dizzy, as if you had already smoked the contents of the baggie that lays forgotten on the forest floor. Teeth sink into your bottom lip- not hard enough to draw blood, but surely enough to leave an indent. The subtle sting has you moaning into him, and he smiles against you.
“You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me this year,” he says as he props himself up on his elbows. His hair and necklace dangle down, swaying in the wind close to your face. “All the times I’ve fucked my fist to what you wrote me. We have a lot to make up for, but I think you need to be taught a little lesson first.”
Your eyebrows furrowed together. “I do?” you ask, wondering what he had in mind. There was a world of possibilities, many of which you’d outlined in your letters.
“I’d say so,” he says as he hooks his hand behind your neck and pulls you up. “So you’re going to do exactly as I say, okay sweetheart?” 
You nod dumbly, already in a headspace that’ll have you agreeing to anything he requested.
He smirks, face full of smug authority. “Good girl.”
Those words of praise fill you with pride. He takes your hips and stands you up before maneuvering you around him and jumping onto the table himself. “Come here,” he says, motioning to his legs, “lay across my lap.”
Immediately, his intention is clear. You had written to him about wanting to feel the sharp sting of him spanking you on the soft flesh of your ass as you were bent over his knee. You quickly crawl over him and rest your stomach on top of his thighs, and the light touch of his fingertips ghosts over your lower back. The sensation makes you noticeably shiver, and you swear you feel him shake with silent amusement. Your knees hit the table- they would surely not survive this exchange without getting scraped up, but the uncomfortable rubbing of wood against your skin feels uncharacteristically pleasant.
“Rings on or off?” he asks. It’ll hurt more with the metal adorning his fingers, but you want it to hurt.
 “On.”
His palm flattens against your backside, rubbing at it up and down in deceivingly comforting motions, before briefly breaking contact and smacking down hard right in the center of your left butt cheek. A loud moan involuntarily comes from deep within you. The blow wasn’t too painful considering the thick fabric of your sweatpants were able to cushion it, but you craved skin on skin impact.
“Eddie, oh my god,” you whine out, arching your back. Eddie’s other hand moves back to the front of your neck and holds it just loose enough that you can still breathe.
“Now, now. That’s not what you called me in your letters,” he says, punctuating the end of his sentence with another slap to your rear, this time on the opposite cheek.
You know exactly what he’s hinting at. “Daddy,” you correct yourself, “Daddy, please!”
“Atta girl,” he whispers, soothing the area he just struck with a rub. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your sweats and tugs them down to your thighs, and after you lift your hips he pulls off your sneakers then removes your pants the rest of the way. With them gone, the cold air of the evening has goosebumps littering the skin of your legs. “Skimpy panties,” he says, louder this time. “You wear these for me?”
“All my underwear is like this,” you tell him with a shy shrug. They were cotton, dark gray- almost black- and offered barely more coverage than a thong would.
“Oh?” he hums. “So you really are a whore, huh?”
He snaps the elastic without warning and you yelp in surprise. Then, he strikes down again, and his palm slapping your bare skin makes you instinctively attempt to muffle your moans in your elbow. His hold on your throat disappears when he harshly grabs your hand and pins it behind your back, then takes the other and does the same. You feel shuffling, and suddenly there’s fabric being looped around your wrists. When you look behind you, the bandana from his back pocket is tying your hands together.
“I don’t think so,” he says as he finishes tightening the knot, “I wanna hear all the pretty little noises you make for me. We can be as loud as we want, baby. No one’s gonna hear us. You trust me, right?”
“Yes daddy,” you answer. “I trust you.”
“Good girl.”
His hand returned to your throat and squeezed. The sounds of cursing and moaning fill the air as he brutally spanks you over and over and over. The rings you told him to keep on feel like electricity zaps every time they meet your ass, and each time he raises his arm your muscles tense up with anticipation. One tear streaks down your cheek, then two, and they tickle as they fall but you’re unable to wipe them away due to your restraints. They pass your jaw and wet Eddie’s hand, and it’s only then that he stops his attacks.
“Are you crying?” he asks, though there’s no remorse in his tone. “You remember what I told you to say if it got to be too much?” You nod your head, but don’t verbally answer. “Tell me now, as a test. This is the only time it won’t count.”
“Y- you told me to say ‘red light’,” you say with a shaky voice. There was pain present, for sure, but the pleasure was overwhelming.
“Good girl,” he replies while massaging the soreness away from your ass. “And don’t be afraid of disappointing me. I want you to use that if you’re even a little bit unsure. Promise me.”
He’s not asking, he’s demanding. “Yes daddy,” you say, “I promise.”
The crotch of your panties are pushed to the side as he dips the tip of his finger into your folds, then runs it up and down along your slit. A deep guttural groan escapes you and your forehead hits the table with a light thud. He must have let go of your throat at some point when you were distracted by his thumb brushing against your clit, and his newly free hand makes a fist in your hair. He tugs at it- mostly gentle, but the bite is still there. His thumb continues to circle your clit as one of his fingers prods at your seeping hole, pushing up against the outside without entering.
“Please, daddy, I need it,” you beg, trying to force him inside by backing into it as much as you can. “Please fuck me with your fingers, need it so bad.”
“Listen to you. You sound like such a dirty fucking slut,” he laughs, still teasing your entrance. “But that’s what you are right? Say it.”
“I’m a slut,” you say. “I’m a dirty fucking slut, okay?”
He hums his approval as his grip on your hair tightens, pulling it even more. “And whose slut are you?”
“Yours!” you exclaim. “I’m your slut, daddy. I belong to you.”
“That’s right.”
His finger plunges into you, deep and fast, and his thumb keeps its relentless pace as what feels like his middle finger pumps in and out. He reaches a spot in you that you’ve never explored before, and with his finger crooked he hits it so perfectly with every thrust. Something in your belly starts to tighten, and it’s getting dangerously close to snapping.
“I’m gonna cum, daddy!” you cry out, tears still falling down your cheeks. Eddie suddenly releases your hair and pulls his finger out of you, laughing at your whines of protest.
“Calm down,” he says as you start kicking your legs out, “I’m gonna let you cum, I just think you’ll like cumming on daddy’s cock even more.”
He slides his hand under your sweater, takes a hold of the back strap of your bra, and uses it as leverage to hoist you up onto your knees. Then, he wraps his arms around your waist and moves you onto his lap. Hardness pokes your center and the thin cotton of your panties do little to protect you from the harsh denim of his jeans rubbing against you. Now sitting astride on top of him, you can finally kiss him again. He happily obliges, and you feel his smile against your pouted lips when your arms start to struggle. You wanted to run your hands through his hair so bad that you completely forgot about the bandana binding your wrists together. Eddie deepens the kiss, his tongue parting your lips as he holds you so tight you’re half-worried your sides will be bruised. When he pulls away, a string of saliva follows and hits your chin when it breaks. Loose threads of your sweater tickle your nose as it gets lifted over your head and falls behind your back, still connected by your arms. The cups of your bra are pushed up to reveal your breasts, and Eddie’s mouth is on them in an instant. Small whimpers go ignored as he nips at the sensitive skin there and licks over your erect nipples.
After showing love to your bare chest for a couple minutes, he raises you off of him. He’s careful to cradle your head as he gently lays you down on the picnic table again, this time horizontally so that your feet rest on the connected seat. Your weight is crushing your hands that are still tied behind you, so you have no choice but to arch your back. Once you’re situated, he stands back and practically trips over his own feet as he rips his shirt from his body and kicks his shoes off. When they’re out of the way, he pulls off his jeans. Your neck strains to look at him, and the hilarity of him standing there, nude except for socks and boxers, with a very obvious boner in the openness of the woods behind the high school almost made you burst out laughing. The laugh dies in your throat when his thumbs dip into the waistband of his underwear and push them down. His cock springs up to his naval, slightly curving and leaking from the tip. The sight of what you’ve been dreaming of for all these months had your mouth watering and your cunt clenching around nothing.
Eddie shakes the boxers from his ankles and stares at you lustfully as he takes the sides of your panties. You raise your hips to help, and he must be growing restless as well because he yanks them down your thighs and off your legs in a matter of milliseconds. When your feet meet the wood of the seat again, he’s already lifting one of his legs onto it, so your heel touches his. He places both his hands on your knees and spreads them apart as wide as they’ll go. The air feels cold on your soaked center, and there’s definitely some of your arousal that’s dripping onto the table beneath you. It occurs to you that he’ll remember fucking you here everytime he does a deal with someone else, and that thought fills you with pride.
He closes the space between you two and his shaft presses along your slit- evoking a choked groan from the both of you- and his hands begin kneading at your naked breasts. Your clit is still sensitive from the edging you endured just minutes earlier, and the pressure sends shocks throughout your body. You desperately start gyrating your hips, hoping to alleviate at least some of the want inside of you. Eddie gets the message and starts grinding as well, and from his advantage point he’s able to do so with much more force. The head of his dick rubs your clit up and down with each thrust, and it becomes too much to bear.
“Please fuck me already,” you beg. “Need it, need it so bad.”
“Such a fucking whore, begging for my dick,” he says through clenched teeth, still rocking against you roughly. “You want me that bad, sweetheart? You’re that needy?”
You close your eyes and nod yes frantically, so hard that the back of your head bangs the table. The grinding stops, and you cry out in exasperation. When you look back up, Eddie is leaning over and combing through the pockets of his jacket that laid beside you. A noise of triumph tells you that he’s found what he was searching for, and he pulls out a little foil packet that was buried in the leather. He bites down on the jagged edge and tears it open with his teeth before turning his head and spitting out the trash. Once the condom is free and the rest of the packaging is also littered on the ground, he backs away slightly to roll it down his shaft. The rubber tip is placed on his head and you watch on mesmerized as he wraps his fist around his cock and strokes down until the latex is fully in place. Then, finally, he closes the distance again and teases your hole for only a moment before slowly sliding into you. Moans escape from you both. Having him inside after all this time had you cursing yourself for playing games for so long.
“You okay?” he asks, breathy and low. You can tell he wants to let go, but he’s holding back to ensure you’re ready.
“Yes,” you respond in a similar voice. “Please fuck me, daddy. Waited so long.”
“I know, baby, I know,” he says as he leans down and kisses you softly on the lips, then again on your cheek and lastly on your neck. “Me too.”
He starts moving then, still slow, determined to open you up and get you properly prepared for the oncoming onslaught. Your legs wrap around his waist and you use this hold to force him deeper, but he’s stronger than you. His pelvis kept its steady pace, and now you were crying out of impatience.
“Look so fucking pretty crying for me,” he grunts, one word for each achingly slow thrust. “So fucking desperate to be fucked like a whore. Be used like a slut. Is that what you want? For me to use you for what I need?”
“Yes!” you scream, “Yes, please. Please daddy, fuck me harder. Use me like a slut.”
“Okay, pretty girl, you asked for it,” he warns.
His rhythm picks up, and now he’s slamming into you with abandon. The sounds uncontrollably coming out of you are lewd and disgusting, but you don’t feel any shame anymore. All you care about is the feeling of him so deep inside, hitting that perfect spot over and over like he was made for you. It’s never been this perfect the first time, and you never want to have a first time ever again. The vigorous pounding drives you toward your climax at top speed, and you cling to your resolve as much as you can. You don’t want it to be over so soon, but it’s just so, so good. You can’t imagine a world where sex is always this good, but you have a suspicion that Eddie’s going to show you that world many times over.
Your legs tighten around his waist and your nails dig into your palms as his hips snap against your pelvis hard and rough repeatedly. When one of his hands leaves your chest to rub circles on your clit, you know you won’t be able to fight off your orgasm any longer. It washes over you like a tsunami, and the experience is full-body. Eddie falls onto you and mouths at your jaw lazily. He keeping fucking you through it, but the twitching of his cock inside you and the faltering of his tempo lets you know that he’s cumming too.
“F- fuck, Eddie!” you yell with your head thrown back. “Oh god, so good. Daddy!”
“You’re so good, baby. Such a sweet little pussy. So fucking tight, feels so right.” He’s slurring his compliments, head somewhere else as he rambles aimlessly into your heated skin.
The next thirty seconds consists of you switching between crying out ‘Eddie’ and ‘daddy’ as he rocks in and out, his pace slowing with each passing second. Eventually, the overstimulation is too much for the both of you and he stops, still fully sheathed inside. He relaxes on top of you and rests there, catching his breath while you try to do the same. Everything is fuzzy, like you’re trapped in a haze, and you don’t know how best to describe it other than the world feels blurry. You’re brought back to reality when he starts kissing your neck again, mouth open, warm and wet and perfect. His teeth scrape against your throat as his lips make their way to the other side of your neck, and once he’s satisfied with the trail of spit left behind he lifts his head and weakly pulls out of you.
He stumbles back and briefly takes the time to find his bearings before helping you to sit up. Once you’re upright, he wraps his arms around you as if he were going for a hug, and kisses you as he unties the bandana around your wrists. Newly free from your restraints, you wind your hands around his shoulders and hold him close so that you can deepen the kiss. He returns the favor just as passionately. You stay like that for an excessive amount of time until a particularly strong wind reminds you both that you were still outside in the woods, and it was starting to get pretty dark. Reluctantly, he breaks the embrace with a gentle caress to your cheek then collects your pants and underwear from their place on the ground, handing them back to you.
After you both finish getting dressed, you feel Eddie’s hand on your shoulder as he brushes past you to walk a couple paces to the left. He picks up the bag of weed you dropped earlier then reaches into his back pocket and pulls something else out.
“Here,” he says, handing you the baggie as well as the fifteen dollars you had paid him.
“You’re giving me the money back?” you say, confusion and fear creeping into your gut. “I hope you’re not used to getting sex as payment for drugs, cause that’s not what’s happening here.”
“Of course not,” he scoffs as he steps closer and stuffs the weed and dollar bills in the pockets of your sweats, “But being my girl comes with free merchandise privileges. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I had you paying?”
“Is that what I am?” you respond, a smile betraying your faux casual attitude. “Your girlfriend?”
“How many times have I told you that the girl leaving those letters was the girl of my dreams?” he laughs, throwing his arm around your shoulder as he begins to guide you toward the opening in the trees. “You’re mine now. That is- if you want to be?”
The worry behind that question is clear, and you squash it down instantly. “I want to be,” you answer.
“Good,” he says, pulling you into him and kissing your hairline, “Cause there’s no way in hell I’m letting you get away that easily.”
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nexusnyx · 1 year
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Me & Mr. Miller
au!Joel Miller x f!Reader [5.2k] summary: You and Joel had a deal to stay away from each other. The only obstacle is—neither one of you wants to do that. He might be the father of one of your closest friends and someone a few (many) years older than you, but... who cared. Not you. Not him. The deal wasn't going as planned. 📝 in this scenario the outbreak never happened! joel miller is doing just fine! If you enjoy it, reblogs and comments make all the difference. warnings⚠️ mature content—explicit depictions of sex, so minors dni. | 🏷️ age gap, misunderstanding, secret relationship, pining, strangers to lovers. Oral (f receiving), penetration (p in v), unprotected sex, dirty talking, love-making.
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤTexas, Winter of 2023.
"Aw, shit, Joel. Fuck," Tess turned to him with her face twisted into a weird, panicked smile, and that's exactly when Joel realized he'd gone and fucked up again somehow. "You set me up. You set me up!"
"What?!"
"We could've at least told me you were inviting me to Sarah's birthday to be eaten fuckin' alive—is she still looking at me? Goddamn," the panic left for a second, replaced with a knowing smirk that he was unfortunately too familiar with. "She's got really nice eyes, I'll tell you that much. Were you gonna tell me I came here to make your girlfriend jealous? And really—is she still looking? 'Cause those are very intimidating eyes, and I'm gonna need to prepare myself."
There was no preparing to look into your eyes.
Joel would know.
He was done for the minute he laid eyes on you. The way you looked at him.
His hands started to sweat, and his mouth ran dry. He had to look. Gravity couldn't keep him from it.
"You know... a lot makes sense now," Tess starts.
"Don't."
Tess chuckles, hiding it in her drink. "Jeez—did you win her by blabbering her ears out? 'Cause I only got a single look into Miss Daggers for Eyes, but she looks—"
"Jesus Christ, I'm gonna regret having brought you, won't I?" Joel interrupts because he can't turn around as sharply as he'd like, and he can feel it already. Your eyes on him.
Tess stops hiding her laughter, "Oh, for sure. And only because I'm gonna make it very hard for you because you didn't tell me. Because you think that not talking about it makes things just... go away," she wiggles her fingers like dandelions in the sky, and Joel loves his best friend, but she can be a bit of a dick.
"I was gonna tell you," he sighs, fidgeting inside the stupid blazer; sipping his bourbon to ease the jitteriness inside his skin already proved to be a terrible fucking idea when in your presence. "I was—" and where are you? There are a lot of people behind Tess' shoulders and Joel could spot you in a football crowd.
"Jesus." Tess enunciates every letter. "Joel, find her so you can have your focus back."
"Just for the record, she isn't my girlfriend," he states.
Tess scoffs, and it says more than words could.
"She isn't," he presses.
"I believe you," says Tess. "But now I also know I wasn't crazy when I said you were happier last year after going to New York. You were. And Miss Daggers for Eyes—"
"She has a name."
"—is the reason. Does she? Does she have a name, Joel? Her parents are so kind for giving her one," Tess sasses. "I would know her name if you hadn't hidden her from me."
"I didn't hide anybody, there was nobody to hide. Also, can you shut up? You're louder than my thoughts."
The next laugh comes accompanied by a slap on the shoulder, and Tess walking away, but not before whispering in his ear. "Joel, buddy, I wholeheartedly believe you had the best intentions with bringing me here, but here's a tip you didn't ask for: Not one of you is as over whatever the hell happened as you may think. Talk to her."
Talk to her.
As if it was that simple.
As if there wasn't a deal.
Joel needs to find you, but first, he needs another drink.
He gulps down his glass and tries to smile as the guests pass him by. None of them seem to notice his imminent heart attack. None of them see through his carefully curated nonchalance, and he's happy about that.
There's already a person present who can see through him like glass, and he can barely deal with that one.
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤNYC, Spring of 2022.
You stood no chance against him.
The first time you saw him, Joel looked like a Wes Anderson visual.
Pink suit, grey strands unabashedly mixed in his soft, shiny black hair, and a shy smile to put any of the other men present to shame.
You were drawn like a moth to a flame.
He looked quite serious without that beautiful smile on—he looked like someone who would, in fact, never wear a pink suit, so you walked over to him and slid right next to his spot at the bar. "That's a bold outfit choice," were your first words. You smiled when his eyes landed on you, so wide and filled with surprise; warm, and stunning like a hot summer day. "But it suits you."
Joel looked stunned for a moment.
He blinked, sipped his bourbon glass and his eyes did a not-subtle-at-all up and down. Then, he put down his glass and the corner of his mouth twitched with the idea of a smile. "I lost a bet," he answered. You recognized the southern accent immediately. "Believe it or not."
"Oh, I believe you," you chuckled.
"It suits me, though?" he asked, opening his arms to the sides.
You nodded. "It does," your peripheral vision caught Bruna approaching behind the bar, and you smiled at her. "Hi, babe. Can I get a caipirinha, please?"
"Hey, girl," she smiled at you and used all of her subtlety to glance at Joel observing the exchange. "Sure thing. Vodka, sake, or cachaça?"
"Bruna, you know there's only one way to do a proper caipirinha," you rolled your eyes.
Bruna smiled. "Cachaça it is, then. Lemon, or something else?"
"Hm, how about an unexpected fruit? Surprise me."
"You got it. Anything else?" she asked.
"Nope, just remember to drink some water. You always work too hard," you winked at her.
Bruna left to make your drink with a blinding smile on her face, and you turned around to find Joel staring. He leaned on the counter with his arm supported on it, and as soon as you looked at him he asked, "Where d'you two know each other from?"
You pointed at the huge banners of NYU standing behind you. "She goes there — I go there."
"You go to NYU?"
"I do," you answered. "Getting my phD, actually," your smile always came out at that.
Joel's face never hides his surprise, but the smile was unexpected and very welcome. "Wow. Congratulations."
"Thank you. I imagine you're here because of the Spring exhibition?" you looked around at the gallery where everyone around looked as posh as you and he did, save for the curious New Yorker just enjoying their walk.
"I am. My daughter has a paper on display on the third floor," he replied.
"Politics and Law area?"
"That's her," he confirmed.
"I have a few close friends in the department," you smiled. "It was my first stop."
"Are you here showin' something too?"
"I'm actually here as one of 'somethings' to show?" No matter how long in the business, talking about being the art itself was always surreal. Especially in front of otherwordly handsome and charming men. Where was Bruna with your drink when you needed her? "My roommate's exhibition won the main exhibit, and we — dancers — are her tool. Her paint."
"You're part of the main exhibit?" He looked every bit impressed, and you nodded, feeling giddy at the prospect. "Double wow. Wait—shouldn't you be backstage, then?"
"Oh, no, gods, no. This whole thing stays here all afternoon, the final piece is only at sunrise—6pm, kinda?"
"Okay. And do I get to know your name before you run off to become art or d'you plan on dropping a crystal shoe so I can roam around later tryin' to find out?"
That had been the first time he made you laugh.
Truly laugh; not a few breaths out of your nose or an easy chuckle—Joel was silly, and he looked like modern-day Adonis in the stupid pink suit that he only wore because of a goddamn bet, and you had no chance.
"I'm Joel," he extended his hand.
That had been the doom of it all—no last names. Only smiles.
You shook his hand and offered your name back, only for him to repeat it out loud.
Test it on his tongue.
You were always doomed.
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤTexas, Winter of 2023.
Jealousy looked godly on you.
Joel hated himself for even thinking it, but he hated himself a lot this evening.
He had hurt you, for starters.
The only thing he set himself not to do, and he'd done it.
More than a year has passed since the fateful day you stepped, yet better—waltzed into his field of vision, and had he known a day of peace ever since?
The day he met you still played on his head like a broken record stuck inside a player:
Saying goodbye to Sarah in front of the gallery, turning around the corner, and seeing you with smoke blowing in front of your face, smiling at the sight of him. You in your green dress. The happiness written all over you, the obvious and earnest glee of seeing that Joel was still around.
Walking with you all around New York, feeling three times less intimidated by the imposing streets with you by his side. The smell of your apartment, the street food you two got on the way, the conversation that flowed as easy as a river stream.
Joel had the imprint of your shining personality burning behind his eyelids. The taste of strawberry from your caipirinha permanently inked on his tongue.
He stood no chance against your eyes—as much as she teased, Tess was right.
Miss Daggers for Eyes.
The way you looked at him at said, "You gotta stop looking at me like that, Joel. I'm starting to think you're not paying attention to what I'm saying," even though you already knew that to be true. Since the moment the strap of your blouse fell from your shoulders and you kept on talking, Joel was fish in a net.
He had the taste of your cunt and the smell of being buried between your thighs waking him up late at night for the next months to come.
The way you rode his face just as he asked you to—no mercy, no shame, only that, only your desires and the alcohol and the weed and the conversation and everything—everything, everything, everything.
Joel took it all out like a starved, greedy man, and you took it back, and neither of you slept until the sun was shining again in the sky.
The next couple of months were filled with texts since Texas demanded him back home and you were already home.
It could've been just friendship.
It was supposed to be simple.
So what if you two called each other and got off while on the phone like a couple of young adults who can't bear to be away from each other? So what if Joel texted you and had to endure Tess and other co-workers smiling at him and wondering, "what the hell's got Joel Damn Miller in a good mood, huh?"
So what if Joel learned more about you than he could admit to himself that he even wanted to know? Even if he was the one asking?
It didn't matter, because it wasn't simple.
Because when you called and said, "Your name is Joel Miller?" he realized why Sarah said he was such a 'distant concept'. No social media meant nobody to pry, but it also meant misunderstandings.
It also meant having to answer you with apprehension, because your tone had never been that off. "It is. Why are you sayin' it like I'm on a list or somethin'?"
"Joel." His stomach fell at his name alone. "You're Sarah's dad. Fuck. Of course you are—"
"Wait, you know Sarah?"
"Yes, I know Sarah. I'm friends with Sarah, or I was before—oh god, she's gonna kill me. She is, isn't she?"
He had assisted you through your panic even though he felt the same.
He walked outside his office, talked you through your next breaths, and guaranteed you there was no reason to panic. "That's it, it's ok, hun'—," he stopped, cursed mentally, and rectified his mistake with his name. You were not his hun, and Joel had been lost on cloud nine without realizing you could've never been. "Just breathe. She doesn't know. She won't know. You two are fine."
That had been it, or so he thought.
Joel stared a lot at the last message he received from you. Thought about sending something else. Continuing the conversation.
Instead, he let the silence make the dust settle.
It had been a haze.
A dream, or a glitch in the matrix—it wouldn't be happening again, and no matter how much he looked at the text you sent weeks prior — i really like talking to you, Joel — nothing would change.
Except it did.
Except — the silence amounted to nothing.
One look at you across the street and Joel was dragged back in.
That Summer when Sarah invited him back, Joel had almost said no, but he remained as able to deny her anything as when she was a kid. The weekend went perfectly, and Joel did his best to not think of you as he was there, but all it took was a few words on a screen:
ㅤㅤㅤㅤSaw Sarah's IG stories. You loaok so good when you smile , JoelㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤLove how the sweater looks on yoyu
Drunk baby. Honey.
The second time there was no deal on the table yet, but there was you.
Joel appeared at your apartment door at twenty past two in the morning and only left a couple of hours before his plane left.
You two pretended your apartment was a bubble.
It worked.
Joel had missed you. It sounded silly when he thought it early in the morning before leaving for work—when everyday routine served as bitter medicine it was enough to convince himself it was all just wishful thinking.
With you in the same room as him, lying was harder.
There was no 'wishful' part on how well you two worked.
There was a divine inspiration in the way you made him feel like something new.
Joel felt warm, wanted, devilishly handsome under your gaze. Your careful touch.
"You're so fucking handsome," you repeated to him.
He never thought about his looks, but he couldn't stop himself from enjoying the truth in your words. How much you believed them. "Glad you think so."
"Don't snicker at me like that, Mr. Joel—"
"Snicker? I ain't snickerin', I'm laughin'. You keep tracing my wrinkles like that and I'm gonna get a complex, hun."
"The drama. You're so lame! Oh my god."
"And yet, you're laughing. You know, that's the same shit my daughter says. I'm startin' to think it's true."
"It is. You're silly. But it's okay —" the tip of your fingers tracing his features felt like the first drops of rain hitting the skin. Joel shivered under your touch more times than he cared to count, and he'd only been present for it a couple of times. He'd hate to think of how much you could ruin him with enough time given. How much no other touch would suffice anymore. " — 'cause it's all part of your charm..."
Who would've thought Joel still had it?
Charm.
No amount of charm made up for the situation, though, and before you left, you asked the inevitable question. "No one can know, right?"
"No." He knew what was at stake—your friendship with his most important person. Maybe more. "It was just our last time."
"Right. We're not doing this again."
"We can stay away from each other. I like it like this," he said, pressing his face in your beard-burnt neck, inhaling your sigh and perfume. "But I know..." she can't know.
No—no one can know.
He nuzzled into you, and you nuzzled back. Dug your fingers in the fabric of his shirt. "We can still... talk, can't we?" you asked.
Joel's chest clutched and he held you a little tighter. None of you were at fault for the circumstances, so you both deserved some more stolen time. "We'll talk." He kissed under your ear. "We'll stay away from each other. Talk. Friends can talk. We just—we don't do this anymore. And, no one can know it happened."
"Okay." You sounded muffled against his chest, and Joel thought about how he'd miss touching your hair like this. "I'll just — take a while. To be able to look at you and not —" you stopped abruptly, and pulled away to look up at him and show him not what.
Not look at him with eyes that demanded a kiss.
Without pulling him in by the fire in your eyes.
That had been then — July gave him you again. You for the last time.
The next time Joel saw you after that had been a few weeks ago. Sarah invited you to a party during the holidays, and third time was the charm.
You two talked like good, old friends.
The longing in his chest was ridiculous, the whole entire time.
Now—
jealousy looks good on you.
Sarah's birthday was big enough for Joel to have his eyes on you without you even realizing it. From his bedroom porch, Joel saw you walking by the pool between the guests with that set to your jaw. Another friend of Sarah's stopped you and started a conversation, but the look refused to leave your face.
The problem was—there was nothing Joel could do.
If he pulled you aside to clarify that Tess was only a friend, a work friend who Sarah has called 'Aunty Tess' since she was fourteen, he would be wrong.
Rubbing salt on the wound.
What did it matter what Tess was?
You two had a deal.
Gods, Joel was getting too old for this—too old to watch things from a distance, to see the sadness on the pout of your lips and crave to run and kiss it away, to realize when the lights of the party hit your face in the right angles that your eyes are shining and fuck—
He gets back downstairs and leaves the glass somewhere along the way.
No more bourbon for him.
Joel hears his name called a few times. Allows himself to be distracted by conversation here and there. He's good at lying to himself—he's done it often enough by now. Joel keeps himself trimmed from the deep wants and needs that grow like weeds through his bones, even if he isn't sure why.
Something so rich like you — of course it wasn't for him.
What would he do?
You're Sarah's dad. Fuck.
Sarah's father — he clapped the louder, smiled the brighter, and when the candles were blown and she handed him the first piece of cake, Joel wondered if he should feel guilty for going after someone who's close with daughter of all people.
All he could feel was sadness as he saw you disappearing in the crowd after talking to Sarah in hushed tones inside a hug.
Joel needed to find Tess.
He should leave — his house would be the roof for a lot of people tonight and he needed to talk, maybe—Joel started laughing as soon as the thought came to him.
That's how much you affected him.
He leaves in direction of the kitchen, guarded by the commotion around the cake.
Joel had trouble finding people he liked talking to. You spoke with him for three hours as if time meant nothing, and now it got him wanting to talk about you to his friends, spilling all the bits of stolen moments here and there.
The texts he's read so many times he has memorized.
He needs to get those things off his chest if he wants to stop clinging to them— they've been inside his close fists since Joel got his hands on them — on you — and he hasn't let go ever since.
"Dad?"
He places the bottle down on the fridge shelf, happy he was caught before and not during the act. He pops his head out, and Sarah's standing on the door of the kitchen with a look.
"What?"
"I promised myself I was gonna stay out of this tonight, but — is there a reason? Any solid reason why you two decided to stay away from each other since you're both so... clearly happy about that?" she finishes, eyeing the fridge as if her view is made of x-ray, and the bottle weighs twice more in his hands.
Then—"Wait." Joel's brain freezes. "You knew?"
Sarah's eyes widen, and her mouth falls open. "Oh. My god." She blinks once, then covers a burst of laughter with both hands. "Dad. You and she are so not subtle—I thought you knew that I knew — oh my god. It's not because of me, is it? I mean—don't get me wrong, if you two as much as flirt in front of me at first I'm gonna hose both of you like, on the spot, but—I'm ok with it. Obviously. You two are two grown adults, and dad, don't take this the wrong way, but last year was the most I've seen you smile in a long, long time."
Joel needed a few minutes to take all of it in.
Was it just because of Sarah?
No one can know, you'd said. What if you were ashamed of him, too? Of the age difference, and —
"The same goes for her, obviously." Sarah's words pulled him out from underwater. "I've known her for a couple of years, but... last year was definitely happier than the other one."
He smiled. "You're the best, did you know that?"
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Duh."
"Tell Tess I left?"
"Sure." Sarah's smile spread. "She just left. D'you want me to text you where she's staying?"
Joel had already gifted her, but that didn't stop him from walking over to kiss her cheek and smile proudly. "I'll buy another gift."
"You better."
Joel drove all the way hoping to be right.
Hoping it hadn't all been just a fluke — the moment, a chase, a thrill.
He breathed a deep inhale before knocking on your hotel door.
It took a second before he heard your footsteps, and he wiped his palms on his jeans. "Uhm — I didn't ask for room service?" you sounded confused.
And like you'd been crying.
Fuck him. "I know you didn't."
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It was him.
You wished you hadn't opened. He looks good — like always, but better. Hair slicked back, thick jacket to shield from the cold and the soft eyes; it's what bought you, and what traps you again.
You're speechless, but Joel helps.
"I just have somethin' to say and somethin' to ask, then I can be on my way. If you want," he adds.
"I thought we had a deal." It's almost like a plaster. A veil to cover the pink hue on your cheeks, maybe. "And how did you get up here without them calling me?"
He lifted his hands — your scarf was in them, and he tried very little to hide his amusement when he explained. "I've lived in this town my whole life. I just told Nina downstairs you forgot your scarf at the birthday party and you left pretty early tomorrow mornin'." Joel looks past your shoulders. "You're not the only one with friends. Can I come in?"
You wonder if it's possible to say no to him.
You simply take a step back, and Joel walks past you.
He feels like an omen standing there in your hotel room. The one you'd gotten because staying at his house seemed impossible.
The one you dreamt about him appearing out of nowhere, just like now.
If you had drunk more tonight, you would think maybe you're out of it.
"I'll keep it short, mostly 'cause I feel like a nerve wreck." Joel clears his throat and turns around to look at you as you close the door behind you. "She knows. Sarah — she uhm, she asked me basically why we're makin' each other miserable."
She knows.
You feel splinted from your body for a moment as the weight of the secret leaves your shoulders.
"She knows?" your whisper is more to yourself than anything else, but Joel still answers.
"Yeah. And also — that was Tess, tonight. With me at the birthday party."
He closed it at that because the rest was implied — you heard of Tess, many, many times.
When you and Joel spoke before Summer and the few times you two spent hours on the phone after long periods of silence in between, Joel told you about his friends. He told you about his work colleagues, about old college memories, about anything you asked.
He waited for you.
Patiently, as you took in the fact that your only worry didn't exist, Joel stood there a few feet across from you with his hands in his pockets, waiting.
And then, "I get if that wasn't the only reason why you said we should keep it between us. But—"
"It was." You were just... flying. Free. You breathed out, weighing a thousand pounds less. So you could have him? "Joel?"
He takes a step forward. "Yeah?"
There's little to be said when both of you move like orbits.
Your arms already know the way around his shoulders. Joel's familiar with the inches of your waist, and more than anything, you missed this, missed him.
His clever hands wrap carefully around your waist, and you abandoned every ounce of worry that this might be a dream.
"What are you smilin' at?" he asks.
Joel asks you that as he molds your bodies into one—the man is nothing but broad shoulders and back, thick arms that act like tentacles on your body that melts into his touch from the get-go.
"I had a lot of dreams like this," you confess. It feels incredible to just say what pops into your mind.
"Well, then let me remind you that real life's better," he mutters, hands already cupping your neck and cheeks.
Joel is the type fo kiss with his whole body.
You have no idea how both of you deluded yourselves into thinking any sort of deal could prevail when you two are made of this:
His hands roaming your throat, squeezing as you cling your legs around his waist and Joel takes the full weight of you on him. The back of his knees hitting the bed, his body and yours falling into a mess and tangle of limbs.
No deal was bigger than the desire you had of jumping his bones whenever he was at close proximity.
You wanted to devour him — you sucked on the fingers he offered with the same gusto your hips rolled against his lap; Joel moaned for you, and he trembled for you, and he smiled for you.
"'m gonna take my time with you — you know I like to take my time, stop grindin' that pretty pussy all up on me," he growls, and you mewl.
Joel is relentless with his touches.
Every time he took you, it felt like a possession.
Like he was carving your body out of marble to keep the curves set in stone — his palms ran through every inch of you until all your clothes were gone somewhere in the room, and he laughed at himself every time you cried out his name in a loud plea for more.
"Please — please just gimme something," you begged.
Joel smiles at you, dropping his pants to the floor. The entire lower half of his face is shining with the slick and sweat from you — keeping his head buried between your legs, your thighs stradling his shoulders and squeezing around his ears — he always started the nights like that.
"I was givin' you somethin'," he replies. Voice low and thick as honey. Just as sweet, too.
He crawls over the bed, naked, and you have to stop yourself from jumping on him until he's on his back. It'd be worse for you afterwards — you learned it the hard way. Joel would milk every orgasm out of you until you blacked out if you kept him from touching your body to his liking before you could do anything, and who were you to complain?
"Need more, Joel," you cried.
"More what?" He palms your calves, and starts smoothing his hands upwards. "Ask for it, baby."
"Whatever you want to give me, just — please."
"Ah. She learned," he chuckles, and kisses the inside of your thighs. They tremble at the feeling of his beard, and he nuzzles his face there for good measure. "I usually wanna see you ridin' my face 'till you're screaming for the heavens, but —" Joel climbs all the way up, cages your face between his forearms and lets his body lay on top of yours slowly. He doesn't give you his whole weight, but part of you wished he did. "I really just wanna be inside you right now."
"Please!"
"We'll have all night, I just—"
He stopped there, but you got where he came from.
It was different.
Knowing you would wake up and he'd still be there — it was different.
Taking him in when you knew he had more to offer and that's what he wanted to give — it made every inch Joel pushed inside feel more real.
He held both of your hands over your head, intertwining his fingers in yours. He went slow, and kept his eyes on you, and you felt less silly about the hours you cried before because you thought he wasn't yours. Because you wanted him to be.
He must sense you getting lost in the what ifs because Joel's talk changes somewhere in the middle.
His praises, always the tether grounding you to Earth while he fucks your mind straight out of it, changes in words and tone. He whispers, "I'm here, baby," in your ear, and it makes your legs hug his waist tighter. Push him inside even deeper. "Fuck — like that. Does it feel good? Is this what you wanted?"
You wanted him. "Yes — want you so bad," you wanted all of him. "All of you, Joel."
That granted you a hand of his letting go of yours only to make a fist on your hair.
It was rare for Joel to lose control, but you loved it when it happened. When he let go of everything and you could see him without anything on — no pretenses, no clothes, no reservations.
Joel started to mumble in your ear about anything, his hips losing rhythm inside of you as he made you ride out your orgasm. He talked about how good you are, how much he'd spoil you, make you his, his his —
You were. You were.
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💖 @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @earthtocharlene — @levylovegood — @dilfsaremyfavorite — @rosymythologies — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @sanzusmile —@yesimwriting — @celestialstar111
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undertheorangetree · 6 months
Text
Snowed In
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Summary- A snow storm leads to an opportunity.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Modern Aemond. Cat Vhagar is modern AU canon. Friends to lovers vibe. Thigh riding. Blowjob. Cunnilingus. P in V sex. Safe sex practices for once. Probably ooc Aemond cuz he's experiencing joy.
Author's Note- Yes all of my fics take place in the winter what about it?? That's my business that I am now involving you in link to full fic below :)
dividers by me
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"They've just closed campus."
Her head pops up from behind her laptop, staring at Aemond in wide eyed disbelief. Already, there is a sympathetic wince on his face, the kind that is only ever present when he knows she is about to get upset, but even then she refuses to believe him.
"Closed? What do you mean closed?"
"It says they had to on account of the weather."
"No, they haven't. Let me see."
He spins his laptop screen to face her, forcing her to push her own down in order to see properly. His email has been left open on the page and her eyes rove over the message she had so desperately hoped he had made up. There before her in big bold letters are the words URGENT- CAMPUS CLOSED followed by a brief explanation blaming a snow storm and apologizing for any inconveniences the decision may have caused.
She lets out a groan, leaning back in the library's old chair, a pleading look on her face as if Aemond is the one responsible for making such decisions. He may as well be, with his family being such heavy contributors to Oldtown University's alumni fund, his last name plastered across the front of one of the many building on campus. She has half the mind to ask him to go speak to whichever family member is on the chair committee to convince them to reverse the decision and allow them to go back to finishing their final papers, though somehow she doubts that would be likely.
"The storm wasn't supposed to start until tomorrow. It can't already be that bad, can it?"
He reaches over toward the blinds they have long since closed, both of them having agreed that the glare from the sun was too distracting hours ago, only to be met with the sight of a now white campus, the snow blanketing near everything in sight. It's evident now why they would have shut down campus - it must have been snowing for hours- but she still feels something close to dread work its way up her spine.
She sucks in a heavy breath, turning to face Aemond once more. "Do you think they would have shut down the buses too?"
She knows it's a lost cause even as she asks it. The university is located away from the port, standing alone at the top of one of the mountains. It's a steep drive even in idle conditions and she knows that with the snow on the roads, the chances of her being able to commute back to her apartment are slim to none.
Just as she suspects, he simply looks at her, face contorted in a way that clearly implies that she already knows the answer. She bites out a curse, half slamming her laptop down before dropping her face into her hands.
The last thing she wants to do is spend the night on campus. She doubts that they were the only two caught unaware and trying to find a place to camp out for the night is going to be hell. Not for him, of course. Aemond's family connections came with seemingly endless perks and he had been set up with a beautiful flat on campus, less than a five minute walk from the library. He has lived there ever since she has known him and she had been there more times than she could count. Since first befriending him during orientation week in their first year, she had spent countless nights eating take out and studying for finals there. With their joint history major, they had taken nearly every class together, making last night studying near second nature at this point, so close to finishing their degrees.
There's a faint burn of envy in her gut at the thought of his flat- warm, isolated, cozy- but it's quickly snuffed out by her nervousness, fretting over where exactly she is meant to camp out tonight. She doubts she will actually sleep, not while she’s alone on campus, but she still wants to be at least somewhat comfortable. A padded chair would be ideal, though she knows they will be difficult to come by if she doesn’t act quickly.
Shoving her laptop back into her bag, she begins collecting the handful of papers she had sprawled out across the tabletop. "I guess I should go and try to find somewhere to sleep. It's going to be a blood bath trying to find something with decent cushioning."
He scoffs. "You're not going to be fighting any blood baths. Just spend the night at mine."
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eddiesghxst · 6 months
Text
The After Party
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this is nothing but smut and entirely based off the gorgeous and delicious request my sweet stink @mmunson86 sent me <3
credit for cute lil dividers: @cafekitsune
————
18+ — MINORS DNI
pairing: rockstar!eddie x makeup artist!reader
summary: you and eddie celebrate after a successful night
contains: eddie is a little anxious in the beginning, grinding, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (unprotected - don't be silly), creampie, multiple L word bombs, and eddie being a sweet lil rockstar bf <3
word count: 4.5k
-masterlist-
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The Oscars.
A night full of pretentious actors and actresses who walk with their noses high in the air with straight backs and posh accents to match.
It’s a load of bullshit, is what Eddie thinks.
Maybe not bullshit— that’s a harsh way to put it— but it’s definitely not any place for a metalhead rockstar, let alone four metalhead rockstars.
Yet, here Eddie is, preparing to step out of a black SUV and into the swarming crowd of flashing lights, nameless faces, and a hailstorm of screaming questions. Not the ideal way Eddie would choose to spend his Sunday night, but he’s more focused on what will come after the award show.
A night spent with you.
His lucky charm.
You and Eddie met many moons ago, back in ‘91. Corroded Coffin was finally going big and landed a shoot for their first official music video. Eddie hadn’t believed the day could get any better, but then you came in, all panicked and spewing apologies for running late. And you were gorgeous; everything about you was perfect: your hair, your lips, your eyes, your hands, your legs. Everything. And, well, Eddie was stoked to find out you were a part of their makeup crew for the day. 
Obviously, Eddie managed to end up in your chair, and it’s the best decision Eddie ever made— because now, four years later, Eddie’s riding to the fucking Oscars with the love of his life.
Fuckin’ ace, right?
When Eddie asked you if you were doing anything on the night of the Oscars, you had initially thought it would be to do his makeup since you don’t often attend these types of things with him, but he quickly shut that down, “No, I want you to come with me— you do know you’re also my girlfriend, right?”
You were surprised because, well, shit, it’s the fucking Oscars, but even if you insisted that Eddie should take Wayne instead, he refused to take no for an answer, and now he’s thankful for his stubborn manners because you look stunning.
Eddie can’t wrap his mind around how beautiful you look tonight. You always look beautiful, but tonight, it’s a different tier of Disney princess incarnate. You’re breathtaking, Eddie thinks as he watches you apply your lipstick.
You’re wearing a custom-made all-black lace Chanel dress; it hugs you in all the right places and sits around your chest in a sinfully perfect way that has Eddie shifting in his seat every now and then. 
Eddie doesn’t realize you’re talking to him until you reach out and touch his knee, “Huh?”
Your lips curve into a soft smile, “You doing okay, hon?” You ask as you squeeze his knee.
Eddie hums, resting his hand over yours and curling his fingers around yours to bring your hand to his mouth, muttering into your knuckles as he kisses your warm skin, “Peachy.”
It’s not Eddie’s scene; award shows like this. More so because Eddie is a singer and not an actor, but the band was nominated for best documentary feature. For the past two years, Corroded Coffin has been working day and night on their rise to fame documentary— and fuck, did the film pull numbers.
Initially, the boys hadn’t imagined the movie would get this much attention, and Gareth wouldn’t believe it even if you showed him the actual numbers, but reality settled in when they got the letter for their Oscar nomination.
The boys have been excited, to say the least. Eddie has been preparing a speech for months now and has been talking about it for weeks on end, and now that the day has come, Eddie’s a nervous wreck, and apparently, he’s shit at masking it because you’re leaning over to press a soft kiss to his cheek.
“You’re gonna do great. You have nothing to worry about.” You assure Eddie with a squeeze of his fingers, and Eddie thinks you’re right— there’s nothing to worry about, right?
————
Wrong. 
Eddie was wrong.
The show went great. Corroded Coffin won, and Eddie did somewhat okay on his half of the speech, but whoever the idiot was that was in charge of seating arrangements sat you right next to Steve fucking Harrington— and god, Eddie couldn’t stand how close Steve leaned in each time to speak over the chatter of the crowd.
You’ve mentioned Steve in the past, something about working together on a past film, but Eddie wasn’t aware of how close you two actually are— and is it a crime to get grumpy when a guy is clearly fiending for your girlfriend? Eddie doesn’t think so.
But how can Eddie be upset when you’re peppering wine-sticky kisses all over his face?
“I’m so fuckin’ proud of you.” You mumble between each kiss.
Eddie can feel the curve of your smile against his skin, and his stomach flips as he squeezes at your hips, pulling you closer as he melts into the plush hotel covers.
“You’re so sweet. Got this hotel for me when it’s supposed to be your night?” You hum, pressing your body into Eddie’s as you leave one wet kiss against his chin. Eddie smiles, “I wanted to do something nice,” Eddie shrugs. “It’s a celebration for us both, princess. You were a part of the journey, too, you know.” He presses a kiss to your lips, and you snort.
“Barely,” you grin. “But I’m honored to have been mentioned in your speech.” You dust your nose across Eddie’s, and Eddie hopes you don’t see the blush that rises to his cheeks at the mention of the heartfelt words he’d said to you while on stage. It made the crowd awe and coo, and you had tears in your eyes when he found his way through the arena back to you, wasting no time in giving you a bone-crushing hug and an excited kiss.
Eddie’s hands trail over your back to squeeze at your ass, humming against your lips when you push back against his touch. Eddie’s fingers curl into the fabric of your dress, “Take this off,” he grumbles, and you smile, kissing him once more before pushing yourself up, “Not so fast, I’ve got a surprise.” You crawl off his lap and roll your eyes when Eddie groans at the loss of contact. 
You fondly gaze down at your boyfriend dramatically splayed out on the hotel bed and snicker as you softly kick at his foot, “Pause the theatrics and unzip me, please?”
Eddie sits up with a grunt, lips twitching when he sees the smile on your face as you turn your back to him. Eddie’s fingers are cool and gentle when they brush against your skin, knuckles grazing down your spine as he unzips the dress. You hold the dress to your chest so it doesn’t fall, and you shiver when Eddie leans forward to press a kiss right in the center of your back, his hands slinking into the opened dress to curl around your warm stomach. Your teeth bite into the smile of your lip as you shimmy out of his hold, teasing him for being greedy and ignoring the annoyed remark he sends toward you.
Eddie watches, lovestruck and in awe, as you saunter into the ensuite and disappear behind the closed door. And as Eddie sits on the edge of the bed, watching the shadow of your figure move beneath the door, he can’t stop himself from asking, “So, what’s up with that Harrington guy?”
“...Steve?”
Eddie tries not to let irritation seep into his tone, but he rolls his eyes and nods as he responds, “Yeah… Steve.”
You knew Eddie had been thinking about your interactions with Steve ever since you found your seats and realized you were sitting next to your longtime friend. It was all friendly, an excited hug to see one another after so long, followed by a lot of conversation throughout the night. Eddie didn’t interrupt, but he kept his hand on your thigh for most of the night.
You had been extra touchy with Eddie all night to remind him that Steve is not who you want and you only have eyes for Eddie, but it seems to have still been on his mind. 
You shrug, even though Eddie can’t see you as you slip on the intricate lingerie. “I told you, babe, we worked on a set together a while back in like ‘89.” You respond before adding on with a joking tone, “He’s too famous for me now.” Eddie immediately responds with, “That’s not true.” and you smile as you strap the garters around your thighs.
You can practically hear Eddie’s gears turning before he speaks up again, “I didn’t know you knew so many people in the film industry.”
Your turn to see yourself in the mirror as you respond, “I mean… sure, Eds, why does it matter?” You ask as you slip on a robe over your decorated figure.
“It doesn’t matter! I mean— it does matter, but I’m not like… bothered.” You giggle as you tighten the robe around your body before swinging the door open, stepping out, and gazing at your flustered boyfriend. The first few buttons of his shirt are open, and his lips are stained red from the wine you’d shared at dinner. His brown eyes are wide and shiny from the light influence, and your heart squeezes within your chest as you step in between his legs and cup his face, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose and then his forehead. “What’s wrong? You’re upset about Steve?” You hum.
Eddie pouts, ringed fingers sinking into the soft material of your robe. “No.” He grumbles. You smile, tilting his head up so he looks at you; you press the palm of your hand against his eyebrows, gently pushing his bangs out of the way. “You have nothing to worry about, Eds. Steve is just a friend… and I’m like ninety-nine point nine percent sure he has a crush on you.” Eddie rolls his eyes as he squeezes the softness of your hips, “You’re just saying that.”
You shake your head with a snort, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you move to straddle his hips. Your robe shifts from the position, and Eddie’s eyes flicker to the small open view he has of your chest, and he groans at the sight of black straps and lace. You shift on his lap, grabbing his attention as you reply, “I’m not actually,” You hum, leaning forward to press a wet kiss to Eddie’s jaw. He breathes, warm fingers ghosting over your stocking-clad legs and squeezing the thick of your thighs. “Everyone wants you, Eddie.” You whisper as you pepper kisses across his jaw and neck.
Eddie’s hands smooth up your sides and back, ghosting over your neck to cup your face and tilt your head, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as you smile and mumble, “S’too bad, you’re stuck with me.” Eddie hums at your words, and you lean in to kiss him again, “Forever.” You add with a joking tone. 
“I don’t mind forever,” Eddie mutters against your lips, and your heart flutters as you imagine forever with Eddie. Settling down in your home together, maybe raising a family, getting a dog or a cat, growing old together. Forever. You want it.
Eddie’s hands are still roaming your body, and you sigh when his fingers gently squeeze over your covered hips. “You gonna show me the rest of my surprise?” Eddie looks at you with hunger in his eyes as his fingers hook into the straps of the garter, pulling and letting it snap against the skin of your thigh and snickering when you jolt with a yelp. “Because these are giving me ideas.”
You giggle, “Ideas?”
Eddie nods, softly nipping at your chin, and you roll your eyes before nodding down at the tied belt of the robe, “Fine then. You can open your gift.”
Eddie’s like a kid on Christmas when you give him the go-ahead. He’s always eager to unravel you in any way, shape, or form, and you have yet to find yourself growing bored of watching him indulge in his favorite toy— you. His gaze is excited, and his fingers make quick work of untying the loose knot, tossing the belt to the side, and pushing open the sides of your cover-up. 
“Jesus fuck…”
Eddie is speechless for the most part, mind struggling on which parts of you to focus on and which parts to touch because every inch of you is just so fucking perfect. Eddie pushes the robe off your shoulders, fingers warm and gentle as they drag down your arms, running over the tops of your thighs and gently squeezing your hips. And then he sees it— the fucking words woven into the fabric of your black panties.
Oscar Winner’s Only
In red cursive lettering. Eddie’s lips quirk into a smile, and you grin as he surges forward to press a searing kiss against your lips, “God, I fucking love you.” He groans as he flips you over, ignoring your squeal as he presses sloppy, wet kisses to your neck.
“You like it?” You ask, and Eddie moans against your skin before sitting up to look at you, “I fucking love it, baby. You’re so fucking good to me,” He kisses you and you hum, “I want you.” He adds.
“Want you all the time,” Kiss. “Every day.” Kiss. “Every second.” Kiss. “Three sixty-five, baby. You’re so fuckin’ it for me.”
You preen, arms wrapping around his shoulders to pull him in close as your legs cinch around his waist. You sigh heavily into a kiss, your body melting into Eddie’s when you feel him stiff against your core. You squirm, “Show me.” You whisper against him.
Eddie thanks you for the precious and thoughtful gift as he unwraps you from the lacey garments because even though you look like a goddess wrapped in lace, Eddie can’t take a single barrier between you— “I need to see you. All of you. Every inch.” You don’t argue with him on that and allow him to undress the little clothing you had until you’re bare against the hotel sheets. It’s a blurry whirlwind of clothes, kisses, and soft praises as you and Eddie grapple at one another, yearning to feel skin on skin.
Eddie’s kneeling over you, veiny and decorated hands smoothing over your spread thighs, his hair now pulled back into a shitty excuse of a bun— and god, he’s so beautiful. Stark naked body on full display in front of you, tattoos fluttering alive with the steady rise and fall of his chest. Wisps of hair escaped his grasp when he tied his unruly locks, and they now frame his face in an almost heavenly way, and you want so badly to capture his essence in this very moment. Snap a picture and keep it tucked away so you can always gaze at and admire him in this moment.
Eddie’s cock is hard and almost leaking as it stands proud between your bodies, and you want to reach out and touch him, but Eddie is leaning over to kiss you and mumble instructions for you to turn around.
A shiver rolls up your spine in excitement as you flip over, grabbing one of the pillows to hold beneath your chest. You rest your head against the height of the pillow, goosebumps painting all across your body in anticipation. You expect Eddie to hitch your hips back towards him and pull you up to all fours. You expect him to be as hungry and eager as he always is because you and Eddie usually play that way. Rough, hard, toe-curling and sloppy. But you’re surprised when you feel Eddie’s gentle touch travel up the expanse of your thighs, ass, hips, and back, the pressure of him leaning over you to push your hair away from your neck and press a soft kiss to the warm skin.
You can feel him, hard and heavy between your ass, and you can’t help but push your hips back into him. Eddie moans, pressing wet kisses just below your ear, one of his hands slinking around your body and dipping between your hips and thighs to find your soaked and throbbing core. You moan when his fingers explore the familiar area, teasing and dipping and caressing. Your hips move with him and, in turn, allow you to rub against him until he’s panting against your skin. 
“I want it, Eds.” You pant. Eddie hums as he sinks a finger into you, your legs instinctively spreading more beneath him. “Yeah?” He hums, and you nod your head against the pillow. “I wanna taste you first.” He responds, pressing a kiss to your temple. You whimper when his finger ticks up against your spot, thighs twitching in pleasure. “Can I taste her, princess?”
You nod desperately, “Yes,” you pant, “Yes, please. It’s yours, Eddie.”
Eddie’s fingers slip from your core, and he slinks down your body, smattering wet kisses all over your back as he goes. Your heart races as he presses one last kiss to the bottom of your spine before gently tapping your hip. You raise onto your knees at his kind instruction, opening yourself and presenting all you have to him. Eddie groans, hands smoothing over your ass and squeezing the warm flesh before parting you open for his gaze. You whimper at the vulnerability but find yourself clenching in excitement anyway.
Eddie leans forward and kisses the spot where your cheek meets your thigh, “You’re so pretty, baby.” He presses another wet kiss to the other side as his fingers slide through the messy and sticky expanse of your cunt. “So perfect,” He kisses you again. He keeps playing with you as his other hand squeezes the dip of your hip and thigh, “All mine?” He says. You squirm and nod, voice needy and small as you reply, “All yours.”
Eddie leans forward, tongue warm and wet as he drags it up the length of your pussy. You moan loudly, fingers curling into the sheets as he palms each of your ass cheeks and immerses himself in your heavenly waters. He’s calculated with it, soft and languid strokes paired with toe-curling suckling moments over your clit. He moans against you, nose pressing against your ass as he laps at every inch of you.
He parts from your dripping wet folds with a soft gasp, and you moan as his fingers go back to playing with your clit. He smears sticky kisses over the flesh of your ass and thighs, mumbling sweet praises and words as you whimper his name, “M-more, Eddie, please.” You slur.
“I want you to cum on my tongue.” He softly says into your skin, fingers dipping into your pulsing center. You gasp, squeezing his fingers as your legs quiver. “Can you give me that, sweetheart?” He asks.
You nod, wriggling back into his touch, and Eddie hums in appreciation before diving back into you. He slips his fingers from your cunt to hold your hips still for him, wet fingers digging into your skin as his tongue drags through your folds. You gasp when he licks one long journey from your clit to your ass, and Eddie hums as you shiver. He’s a tease, never giving you the rest of what you want as he goes back to devouring your pussy. You don’t mind though because soon, Eddie has you seeing stars.
The feeling is all-encompassing, a lick of fire rolling over your entire body as you quiver and shake in his hold, position faltering until Eddie has to hold you up with a hand pressed to your pelvis.
He keeps going until he’s had his fill and lets you gently fall onto the soft covers in exhaustion. He watches your back rise and drop in heavy breaths and leans over to kiss the middle of your spine. You hum, hips rising to meet his, and he smiles against your shoulder as his fingers wrap around your hips. “Flip over; I wanna see you.”
You’re an angel, Eddie thinks.
Your eyes are clear and blissed out when you look at him, lips swollen and tinted from biting and licking them in your depths of pleasure, and there’s a thin sheen of sweat over your body that makes Eddie’s brain short-circuit. Your hands drag over his arms and his shoulders, softly pushing in an indication that you want to switch. Eddie doesn’t protest, hands finding your hips as you both swap positions so you can straddle him.
You can feel the heavy weight of his cock against the inside of your thigh when you lean in to kiss him, and it makes you squirm. You want nothing more than to lift your hips, line him up, and sink down onto the length of his cock, but you want to taste him first. You want him to feel loved, to feel needed and wanted.
You kiss as much of him as you can on your way down to your destination between his thighs— with the anticipation and excitement bubbling in your gut, they’re more sloppy and needy than intended to be— but Eddie seems to enjoy it, considering the pearly white smear of cum already leaking from his tip.
You smile, settling on your stomach and wrapping your fist around his cock, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the tip. Eddie moans, reaching out to rest a hand on the back of your head as you wrap your lips around him, softly sucking and licking. 
You take him slowly, warm mouth sinking over every inch of him until he reaches the back of your throat. Eddie always loses his wits when your mouth is wrapped around him, and most of the time, it doesn’t take much before he’s thrusting up and fucking your throat, but tonight Eddie only wants to sink into the euphoric pleasure. You’re all around him; the smell of you is on the sheets, the taste of you on his tongue, the feeling of your warm mouth dragging over every inch of his cock, your nails softly scratching up his twitching thighs. Eddie thinks he might be in heaven.
He won’t last much longer if you keep sucking him this good, so he tugs you off his length, wrapping a fist around himself as he looks down at you with low eyes, “Come here, baby,” He pants, “Come sit on it.”
You were eager to have the taste of his cum on your tongue, but your empty core clenches at the thought of Eddie filling you to the brim, so you crawl your way back to straddling him.
Eddie kisses you feverishly, letting go of his cock to grasp at your waist as you settle over him. You gasp when his cock slips against the wetness of you, and your hips rock against him, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you press your bodies together. “F-fuck,” Eddie stutters. He wraps an arm around your middle, aiding your movements as you grind against him. Eddie’s lips dust across the warm skin of your shoulder, and he softly kisses the area. You whimper, nuzzling your face against his neck as you whisper for him to put it in. 
Eddie reaches a hand between you both, and you lift your hips so he has room to grasp himself. He languidly strokes his tip up and down your pussy before lining himself at your entrance. You wriggle yourself down onto him, moaning when his tip slips in.
“Oh fuck,” Eddie moans, fingers tightly gripping onto your hips, “Take it all the way in, baby.” He presses encouraging kisses across your neck and jaw.
You whine when you finally have all of Eddie pressed into your cunt, your pussy fluttering around the base as he stretches you. You shift your hips and whimper, “Feels so good, Eds.” 
Eddie runs his hand up your back, caressing your body as he subconsciously shifts his hips up, bullying his cock deeper into you. You lean in to kiss him, and it’s not the best kiss you’ve ever given, but it’s filled with nothing but soft appreciation for the man beneath you. “I love you.” You remind him, hot lips brushing over his as you speak. Eddie’s cock twitches within your walls, and you pulse around him. “I– fuck,” Eddie doesn’t get to finish his sentence because the drag of your velvet walls on his prick is mind-numbing.
You sink back onto him and hum, “You love me, Eds?” You softly say into his neck. Eddie nods quickly and desperately, heavily swallowing as you lift again. “Yeah. Yeah— fuck. I love you, baby. So much.” He breathlessly pants, choking on a moan when you slide down his cock with a sinful grip.
You’re overwhelmed with pleasure, your mind becoming a blur of sensations, and Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. You whine, wriggling your hips against his, and Eddie coos as he pulls you in tighter. “Need me to do the work, princess?” He softly offers, a gentle hand petting back your hair. You nod against his shoulder, grinding down onto him and pulsing. Eddie sinks lower into the bed to plant his feet on the mattress, causing him to inch deeper into your cunt. “Ah,” you moan, “Yeah. Yes— give it to me, please.”
Eddie doesn’t waste another second, smoothing his hands over your sides and thighs before situating his grip over the globes of your ass to begin thrusting into you at a steady pace. It’s deep and slow, and every single thrust is the right angle, and he has you moaning and grasping onto his shoulders for dear life because “I’m gonna cum.”
Eddie’s head drops back onto the sheets, eyes shut and lips parted as your wet lips smear across his shoulder and neck with each thrust. “Let me feel it, princess, come on.” He encourages.
Your toes curl, and your body tenses as you topple over the edge, spiraling into the warm pool of pleasure. You’re moaning Eddie’s name as he presses his lips to your temple, mumbling how much he loves you and pumping himself to the top of his climax. “Inside, Eddie. Do it inside.” You softly gasp.
Eddie presses into you with a deep groan, pumping his entire load into you. It’s a familiar feeling, having Eddie cum in you, but he’s so deep, and he’s holding you so tightly that your chest squeezes with so much love for him, and you barely notice your eyes welling with tears until Eddie’s shifting back to lift your face. His eyes soften, like he already knows what you’re feeling, and he softly kisses you until you melt into him.
You’re fragile like this, and Eddie knows, so he doesn’t even think of untangling himself from you until you softly sigh, nuzzling your head against his neck and shifting your hips. Eddie groans, dropping a hand to squeeze at your hip in warning of his sensitive cock. You mumble a soft apology, and Eddie brushes it off with a quick peck.
And in a very loved and typical Eddie-fashioned way, he breaks the quiet and soft atmosphere with a sudden question, “So,” he clears his throat, “What were you gonna do with the panties if we didn’t win the Oscar?"
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moon-rivr · 6 months
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(i mixed these two together so i hope that it’s okay with the individual anons :D )
dress
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pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader
content: smut, feelings of betrayal(not from reader), unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), begging (from reader), panty sniffing
author’s note: quick question, do you all prefer longer (4k+ words) or shorter fics 🤨 italics is flashback btw :) (i’m not rly a swiftie so i’m sorry if i butchered this 😭)
word count: 3.5k
The dress itself was nothing short of beautiful, the shade of red accentuated you beautifully and it hugged your curves perfectly. Though you received many compliments and longing looks from the people at the event, none of them were from the man that you wanted. You weren't too sure if you'd see him again after such a long time being away from Nueva York but you kept your hopes up. The room was full of your soon-to-be coworkers but you had little interest in trying to maintain pointless conversation with them.
You walked over to the food table and grabbed yourself a Coke with a bag of chips, the rest of the food looking unappealing. You turned around and were met with a broad chest, the impact causing you to stumble back a little bit and drop your chip bag. "Sorry about that," you told the person you'd bumped into, grabbing your chips. "No worries, it's all good."
The voice took you back to the days of sneaking around the library when no one was around, of hiding around in the bleachers after football practice was over, and of the day you left Nueva York. You weren't expecting to find him so fast in the crowd, but you had to admit that the time apart had done him well. He was no longer the tall and awkward boy you met during a study group but a man molded by experience and muscle.
"You look as beautiful as the first day I saw you," Miguel lowered his head to whisper in your ear, affirming your suspicions that he'd recognized you. You had about a thousand words that you wanted to say to him but none of them could compute into complete sentences. When you opened your mouth to respond, you were left by yourself at the food table. You decided to push away the butterflies that were swarming around in your stomach and went to go talk to some of the other people at the event.
You'd taken your letter from Columbia back to Miguel's house, a unsaid pact between the two of you that you'd open your letters together. You could only hope that the amount of endless nights studying in the library would pay off but a part of you felt dread at having to open it. You knocked on his door, shifting from foot to foot nervously as you waited for his response. He came out with his headset half on, wearing a pair of sweatpants and thick black glasses. "Hey, come in," he told you, gesturing you to come in.
"I got waitlisted," you told him as you opened the letter, looking up to see that his expression had shifted to something solemn. "It's okay. we can still go to college together. You got accepted to NYU right?" He tried to offer a solution but you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to figure out the best way to tell him. "I'm not staying in Nueva York for college. I applied to UCLA and got in. I hope you're not mad at me or anything," you responded, playing with your fingers nervously. "It's okay, we'll stay in contact and call every weekend."
The two of you did not stay in contact after the first couple months and you felt like you were just a spectator in his life. He'd been going to clubs and frat parties, a complete 180 from who you'd met, and the realization that you didn't fit into his life anymore hit hard. Though you wished that you could've ended things in person with him, you ended up breaking up with him in text after seeing him get too cozy with a girl on his Instagram story. You knew that it was your decision to go away but you couldn't help but feel upset at how fast he'd moved on from you.
"Are you okay? You've been staring into space for a while," One of your coworkers spoke, breaking you out of your thought as they waved a hand in front of your face. You blinked, returning your attention back to the conversation at hand. “Yeah, I’m all good. What's this about the cafeteria on the second floor though?" you responded, trying to engage in the conversation even though you felt a pair of red eyes staring at your every movement.
The evening went by quickly and soon enough, the event began to wind down. You thanked your boss for the job opportunity and for hosting the party before heading out, waiting for your taxi outside. Goosebumps formed on your skin as you shifted from foot to foot, unaccustomed to the Nueva York night air. You felt a jacket on your shoulders, looking up to see Miguel standing there next to you. "I know you don't owe me anything but I'd like to talk to you. It's been a while," he spoke up after a while, his voice coming out raw like it'd been difficult just to get the words out.
The drive back to Miguel’s place was spent mostly in silence with some questions coming from the taxi driver in front. "So how long have the two of you been dating?" the man up front asked as he approached a red light, doing his best to be polite. Miguel kept his mouth shut, practically drilling holes at the taxi driver's headrest with his eyes. "We're not dating, actually," you responded awkwardly, offering a small smile to counteract the glaring from the man next to you. "Oh, I’m sorry for assuming," he responded, staying quiet for the rest of the ride after that.
"Thank you," you told the taxi driver once he pulled up to Miguel’s penthouse, getting your wallet out to pay. Miguel pushed your hand away and handed the driver a twenty, getting out of the car without a word. "Sorry about him. He's a little.. temperamental," you mumbled, getting out of the car after Miguel. You followed him up to his house, taking note of how nice the area was around you two. He gestured you to come in, holding the door open for you.
You stepped inside his house and you couldn't help but notice that even though he lived in an expensive neighborhood and he had expensive furniture around the place, the house was devoid of anything that made it a home. Miguel shut the door and unbuttoned his shirt at the top as he walked over to the kitchen. "You didn't eat anything at the party, what do you want to eat?" He asked you, leaning against the counter a bit as he waited for your response. "I’m not hung-" you started to say but your grumbling stomach betrayed your words. "Whatever's easy to make then."
"When'd you get back to Nueva York?" He asked, his voice taking on a note of indifference like the time you'd spent beforehand didn't matter to him. "I got back around three months ago, I think? I’m still getting adjusted to living on the east coast again," you responded, thanking him for the meal that he'd made. The smell of seasoning and spices filled up the kitchen after he was done cooking, the plate of food looking nothing less than inviting. "And you didn't think to call me? To see how I was doing without you?"
You almost choked on your food as he asked you these questions and you immediately reached out to grab the bottle of water he'd set down. "I didn't think that we were in a position for friendly conversation. Last time I saw you, you were dancing with some girl at a club," you responded, keeping your eyes on your food so you wouldn't have to meet his face. He sat down across from you, his presence demanding for you to pay attention to him. "You left me. You don't know how hard it's been to force myself not to call you and see how you're doing. To see if you still think about me as much as I think about you," he told you, his gaze unwavering as he looked at you.
"Tell me, why'd you apply to Alchemax?" He asked you after a couple moments of silence and you played with your food as you tried to avoid the question. "It's one of the best genetics labs in the country. It'll do miracles for my career," you responded, telling him the same lie that you told yourself when you clicked on the application button. "Ese cuento ni te lo crees tú. Te estoy pidiendo la verdad, nada mas y nada menos. Why'd you apply to Alchemax?" he asked you once more and you felt your defenses come down with the way his eyes softened as he looked at you. (you don’t even believe that story. i’m asking you for the truth, nothing more and nothing less)
"Because I was hoping to see you again, Miguel. I didn't think it would happen so soon and I would've been happy just to see that you were okay," you responded, finishing up with your food as you avoided all eye contact with him. "Then why'd you leave me?" He inquired, looking like the boy who'd gotten rejected from the football team all those years ago. "I didn't leave you, specifically. I left because I wanted to discover who I was without you, Miguel. I was just your girlfriend during high school, and while I don't regret our relationship one bit, I also didn't know who I was without you," you told him honestly, standing up to clean up the plates.
He led you to his bedroom after he'd taken over cleaning the plates, turning on the lights as the two of you stepped inside. He took the jacket off your shoulders and tossed it onto a chair he had on the side, taking a couple seconds to stare at you in the dress. He went behind you, sliding the zipper off with such precision and his mouth went to your shoulder, kissing every bit of skin that had become available to him. "I'll keep you buried with my cock all the time so you don't have to leave me," he mumbled, finishing up with the task at hand.
You got down on your knees and started to stroke him with your hand, trying to get adjusted to the size of him again. You kissed on his thighs the way that he liked when you two were together, the small shudder that ran through his body being enough proof that he still enjoyed the same things. You slowly lowered your mouth onto his cock, giving some kitten licks to the tip since you knew that would get him even more worked up.
You slowly swirled your tongue around the mushroom tip, licking every drop of precum that had leaked out during your teasing. You took more of him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you tried to adjust to the size. Your hand pumped the base, squeezing around it tightly as you worked it in tandem with your mouth. His hand came to the back of your head, guiding you down his length to the best of his ability until you felt the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. Your nose rubbed against his happy trail and even though tears were starting to brim on your waterline from how deep he was, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at having taken him so well.
You brought your mouth down to his balls, sucking on them and swirling your tongue around them while your hand jerked him off. The precum that had leaked out from his tip served as a perfect lubricant, making the whole experience all the more pleasurable towards Miguel. You brought your mouth back to his cock, your mouth running down the underside and tracing one of the veins running along the side.
"Look at me," he ordered, though his voice came out more ragged than he would've liked. you looked up at him, your mascara had dripped down your cheeks and the red lipstick that you'd worn tonight was smudged around the corners but you still looked so angelic to him. He leaned his head back, like the sight before him was just too much to look at while his hand continued to guide your head.
"Tan hermosa que eres," he murmured, his whole body shuddering as he came closer to that peak. (you’re so beautiful) He finished in your mouth and you swallowed it down greedily, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He helped you stand up and carried you over to the bed, slotting himself right in between your legs. He hooked his pointer finger in your panties and slowly slid them down your legs, his gaze on your glistening cunt.
He brought your panties up to his face, taking in the scent of you. He put it to the side and looked over at you, kneeling between your legs. “I'm gonna keep those. Just in case you decide to run away again," he told you, pressing small kisses on your thighs. Your legs started to wiggle as he pressed featherlight kisses on them but his firm grip on your thighs restricted you from moving them any further. He bit down on the insides of your thighs, his canines piercing the skin slightly as his tongue lapped up the small drops of blood that dribbled down.
He started licking at your folds, taking his time to get adjusted to you and your taste again before he delved in. He thrust his tongue inside, his eyes closing from the sensation of having you under him once again. You brought your hands up to his hair, tugging gently on the black curls as he continued to tease your hole. He used his tongue to thrust in and out of you, his hands up on your breasts as he tugged and massaged the nipples. He used the tip of his nose to brush up against your clit, applying stimulation every so often.
His fingers came down to your cunt and he picked up the slick you'd released with his pointer and middle finger, bringing them up to your mouth. You took them instantly, your tongue swirling around his fingers as you tasted yourself, the result of what he'd made you feel in this time together. He slowly pushed one finger in, only reaching halfway before he filled up up. Your cunt squeezed tightly around his finger, coating him with a wave of fresh arousal as he began to thrust it in and out of you at a rapid pace.
His tongue came down on your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the nub the way that had your toes curling and your hands gripping his hair. You swiveled your hips against his face, your orgasm starting to bubble up inside of you. "Beg me to cum. Beg me the same way I used to beg for you to stay in Nueva York," he told you, only stopping his movements to hear you plead for that sweet release. "Please Miguel! I won't leave you again, please just let me cum! I've been good," you pleaded, tears starting to build up at the prospect of having your orgasm ripped away from you.
"Doesn't really sound like you wanna cum, muñequita. Beg like you mean it and I’ll consider it," he teased you, his eyes sparkling with newfound mischief. You wondered why he wanted you to beg so badly, when he used to be the one who'd beg to be inside of you, to taste you, and be the one that would be willing to fuck your panties just for a feeling of you. "Please, Miguel! I'll stay with you this time! Just let me cum, please! I’ll be good," you complied with his request nonetheless, your bottom lip wobbling as you did.
He let out a dark chuckle and went back to fingering you, his mouth attached to your clit instantly. He let out a couple moans as he thrust his lower half into the mattress, seeking out a form of relief for himself as well. Your nails dug into his scalp but he didn't seem to mind, in fact, he seemed to go faster the harder you pulled at his hair. You came with a moan of his name, falling back onto the bed as you tried to control your erratic breathing.
He placed your legs against your chest as he aligned his cock with your entrance, your previous orgasm providing him with the ease that he needed to slide in. It was still a struggle to take in the sheer girth and length of him, but the sting didn't feel too bad after a couple seconds. He let you adjust to his cock before starting off slow, the look on his face being a complete change from when he'd asked you to beg. It felt like he was trying to make love to you rather than fuck you, each thrust deep but slow like he wanted to make this moment last.
"Miguel, go faster please," you spoke up after a while, needing more of what he could give you. You appreciated his efforts of wanting to take things slow, but you wanted to be fucked with such intensity that your legs would be wobbly after. He sped up, his balls slapping against the globes of your ass with each thrust. He brought your legs down and attached his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking on it like he'd been starved of the taste of you. Your hands came up to his hair once more, pulling on the strands with each relentless thrust that he gave.
You enclosed your legs around his waist to pull him even closer to you, wanting to feel the warmth you'd been missing. He brought his hand to your clit, rubbing small circles on the nub as he angled his cock to hit your most sensitive spot. Your legs began to shake as you felt the coil inside of you tightening up, threatening to snap at any moment. Your orgasm washed over you quickly, coating his cock in your slick as his thrusts started to get sloppier and faster. You tightened your legs around his waist, restricting his access to pull out. His eyes widened and you were quick to reassure him, "I'm on birth control."
He came quickly after that, his cum filling your walls completely as his cock pushed in you. He pulled his cock, making sure that he wouldn't overstimulate you in the process. He cleaned you up with a wet cloth, using light pressure as he cleaned the cum leaking out. You took a couple seconds to let your vision go back to normal before you stood up, grabbing your discarded bra and red dress.
"Where are you going, chula?" He asked you, causing you to stop your movements. "I'm going home. I figured that this was just a one night stand," you responded, looking back at him as you held your clothes in hand. "So you're gonna leave me again after you said you wouldn't?" He inquired, his brow raising as he challenged you. "What do you want me to do here, Miguel? We're not exactly friends at the moment and we're not strangers," you responded and he walked over, holding your hands in his.
"Choose to stay with me. we'll figure out this whole thing in the morning when we're not clouded with sex," he offered and you let out a small sigh, looking up at his red eyes. He could act as indifferent as he wanted, but those eyes showed nothing less than the longing that had accumulated in the time you'd left. "Do you have anything I can borrow?" you asked him, setting your clothes on the chair that his coat was resting on. "Figured you could sleep in that red dress of yours, you looked magnificent in it," he suggested before he walked over to the closet to hand you one of his shirts.
He helped you take your makeup off, even taking his time with the mascara though he was growing more and more agitated. He ended up going to a pharmacy that was open 24/7 near his home to get you a cleanser and some other necessities, making sure that you were comfortable in your stay here. The two of you laid down in his bed, intertwined in his sheets as his hand rubbed small circles on your exposed thigh.
"Where does this leave us, Miguel?" You asked him after a while, wanting to get some answers. "I've never stopped loving you, y'know. I've been hoping for a while that you would just show up on the street and still want to be with me. So I guess what I'm trying to ask if you'd like to go out on a date with me. Get to know and love me again," he responded, his movements on your thigh stopping as he talked before picking back up again.
"I'd love that. For the record though, I never stopped loving you either."
817 notes · View notes
gojos-fr-bae · 8 months
Text
Stood up
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Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader
Genre: angst to fluff
Word count: 1.1k
Warnings: Cursing
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Three hours.
You waited at that damn restaurant for three excruciating hours receiving a pitiful look from the waitress and you just couldn't handle it anymore.
Your precious boyfriend had let you sit there and feel embarrassment flood you every time you caught someone staring at you before whispering to their date.
He couldn't even bother bother to text or call nor reply to your texts or answer your calls. And as if this all isn't bad enough this wasn't the first but fourth time that month and you couldn't take it anymore.
It's been so long you two spent time together. He always arrived home when you were already asleep and left before you could wake. You were the only one even tying to keep you two together and you were so, so exhausted. You couldn't keep giving your everything to someone and receiving nothing in return, after all you're only human.
And so, driven by pain, you ignored your tears and painful sobs escaping your chest as you packed all your belongings and wrote one last letter to your soon to be former lover.
It hurt you so much to leave knowing you may never love anyone the way you love him, but you had to do this for your own sake and if that meant walking out that front door and not turning back then so be it.
~
It had been a week since you left the house you shared with the love of your life and you had received nothing but silence from his end, and yet today you woke up to 45 missed calls and so many messages from the bastard but you couldn't bring yourself to open them. You knew that if you listened to even one of the voicemails he left your resolve would crumble considering the texts you also received from his students begging you to speak to him and talking about how much of a mess he is.
You were scrolling through their messages when you barely heard the gentle knocking on the door over the rain outside. You had been staying at your friend's that night and as far as you were aware she was spending the night at her boyfriend's so you had no idea who'd be at the door.
You got up, groaning from the headache your crying had caused and began walking towards the door. You opened the door, breath catching at seeing Gojo standing on the other side of the door. He looked up at you and his eyes began tearing up. They were swollen, red and had bags, his cheeks sunken in slightly. It felt like a dagger was jabbed into your heart and was being twisted. You couldn't bare to see him looking so broken.
"H-hi" he whispered, looking at his feet and fidgeting with the hem of his shirt so that you don't see him breaking or hear how his voice cracks.
"Hi"
"May I- umm, may I c-co-come in?" this time you heard how his voice wavered."
"Goj-"
"Please, d-don't call me that"
"Come in" You said, finally noticing how much he was shivering, his hair and clothes soaked.
"Satoru, did you, walk here?"
"Walk, stand outside the building trying to gain the confidence to enter what's the difference?"
"Oh no, I'm so sorry let me get you some spare clothes, I hope I have something that can fit-"
"No no, that won't be necessary I don't plan on staying long."
"Well in that case uhm... how can I help you?"
There was a heavy silence between you two as you stood in the doorway, waiting for him to respond.
"P-please" he croaked, tears beginning to fall down his face, "Please take me back"
"Satoru don't-"
"I'm so, so sorry. I'm such a pathetic and useless boyfriend and It's completely my fault that we split up because I stood you up and hurt you and I know I don't deserve to be forgiven but I'm begging sugar cube please, I can't live without you"
"Satoru you constantly disregarded me and our relationship. You never spoke to me, constantly stood me up and never even bothered to apologise ONCE, It's like you never even loved me in the first place!" You shouted, feeling your tears begin to blur your vision.
"I know and I'm sorry! I feel like and absolute piece of shit but I LOVE YOU Y/N! I love you so much it hurts, I love you so much I almost have a heart attack whenever you smile! And I love you because you are the only one who ever made me feel like that, only one who ever told me that I would be ok who ever held me when I cried, no one else but you!"
"Even if you do I can't keep carrying this relationship alone Satoru! I can't be at peace unless I leave"
"BUT YOU PROMISED!! YOU PROMISED NEVER TO ABANDON ME! PROMISED TO NEVER BREAK MY HEART AND I BELIEVED YOU! I STILL DO SO PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!" You were both sobbing now.
"Satoru, even if I said yes, I know I would never be your first priori-"
"I quit!" He pressed out quickly, looking up to meet your eyes and lacing your hands in his.
"Wh-what"
"I quit at Jujutsu tech immediately after reading your letter a-and I realised that you were right. You were right about everything! I had neglected and mistreated you so much when you deserved none of it and I'm sorry."
You were stunned. flabbergasted even. You knew how important Gojo was to the Jujutsu world and so did he. You were pretty sure that the world would fall into chaos, he was the only person keeping things in balance. And he quit...for you"
"Satoru-"
"Before you say anything, don't worry about money. I already have tons and once I'm head of the clan it practically doubles so I can spoil you the way you deserve to be"
"Goj-"
"And I promise I'll work harder to make you happy. I know I really don't deserve it because I'm a worthless piece of-"
"SATORU GOJO WILL YOU LET ME SPEAK!"
"Yes ma'am" he said, almost in a whisper.
"Did you really quit for me?"
"Yes"
"Do you really love me? "
"More than breathing"
"And are you really going to change?"
"Anything for you"
"Then if we give this one more shot things will really be different?"
"Yes"
"Okay, then let's do it, I mean what's the worst that could happen?"
His face lit up up before he pulled you into a bone crushing hug, burying his head in the crook of your neck.
"Thank you so much, I love you"
"I love you more sweetheart"
"Eh, doubt it"
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Yay
© gojos-fr-bae
607 notes · View notes
lichenes · 1 month
Note
vincent renzi nsfw alphabet? :3
Thank you for the ask anon ;D
I figured this would be the best way to start writing nsfw soooo :3c
Giggling. kicking my feet literally. If you want me to elaborate on any particular letter feel free to lmk :]
I tried to make it as gn as possible :p
Vincent Renzi x gn!reader
CW: Less descript-y than my usual works, different format basically, kinda drifted from the nsfw-ness of it in a few of the subpoints lol, NSFW
wc: (excluding the template) 1,2k
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
I feel like he would kiss you through your orgasm and after you've both come off your high he would get up lazily still basking in the afterglow... He would look so good doing it too, his tired eyes observing your still heaving chest. He would ask you if you need anything and provide it for you. A caring partner thats for sure.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also yours)
In this context- he likes his own fingers. You clearly like his hands and he confronted you about it jokingly a few times to tease you. The first time he uses them on you, oh mon dieu... His favourite part of you are your eyes. To look into them while you cum is like heaven to him. While he eats you out he likes to keep eye contact if possible...
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
I wouldn't say he's obsessed with you swallowing his cum. He is a tad bit opposed, being familiar with the risks it carries with it. He wouldn't be completely against it so if you feel like it, go for it.
D = Dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)
He's a massive yearner. He'd never tell you that but he made a social media account solely to stalk you on it and not for work like he assured you. He would gaze lovingly at your pictures if you post any or just stare at the blank profile picture icon imagining what you were doing at the time.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Mostly, he was pretty vanilla for most his life so if you want to try anything kinkier you should research it together to give him the security of knowing. When it comes to the basic things, fingering, eating out, different positions, he passes with flying colours.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Whatever you're comfortable with and whichever ones he can see your face in. He's obsessed with your face contorting into expressions of pleasure or pain if youre into it.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
He stays pretty serious for most of the time, teasing you if he feels bold that day. When he feels like you're in a bad mood he tries his best to cheer you up in... many ways. He doesn't crack jokes at random times while you have sex though.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He's a clean man that's all I can say. His carpet does indeed match the drapes. And most importantly he cares for your comfort which makes him trim himself quite often. When it comes to his facial hair he sometimes forgets to shave and his moustache comes in. He noticed that that's when you make love most passionately so he sometimes 'accidentally' forgets to shave, when he's feeling particularly needy.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Oh big romantic type, the first time you had sex he did the whole, rose petals on the floor, candles lit and all. Every time you have sex it's a special occasion and he feels obligated to make it seem so every time. During the moment he's very tender with you, kissing you and whispering sweet nothings into your ears...
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Remember that social media account I was talking about earlier? The first time the thought crossed his mind to masturbate to your pictures he got so flustered he had to go to the bathroom and splash cold water on his face to get rid of the thought. After he has aquired your photos though he does it with only a twinge of embarrassment.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
He's big into undressing you if you, the act of stripping your clothes from your perfect body, lord, he couldn't imagine anything as arousing. He is a vanilla man up untill it comes to you riding him. When he's in that state you could convince him to do anything.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Your bed, your patio on the outdoor sofa. You tried to convince him to go at it in his office at the law firm he works at but he got too flustered just at the thought and thought that he'd die of a heart attack if you were to actualise your fantasy.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
As previously mentioned, undressing you. It's not like he's a complete maniac, taking your shirt off in front of him won't make him faint but he still will get a little flustered. Begging. That's it. He also loves seeing you relaxed. Whenever you're lounging on the sofa he gets the urge to make you just a bit more tense...
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
I feel like he wouldn't degrade you unless you begged for it. He is also against impact play, but he's a covenantal man. Talk to him about it and you shall see.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Giving or recieving is fine. He's a master at eating pussy and if you aren't comfortable with oral he won't force you to do it. He will happily welcome it thought, giving you tips as you go.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Highly depends on his mood. If he's feeling particularly foul he won't have any qualms to pound you into the matress. If he's upset he'll go slow and sensual to relay to you how much you mean to him.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He prefers longer sessions to quickies. Fervency isn't what fuels him most so he prefers to go slow.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He likes experimenting, with certain limits of course. He prefers not to take risks, a calm and calculated man he is. When he warms up to you though, you could convince him to do it outside your bedroom (ex. the sofa on the patio).
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
When angry or self concious he can go for many rounds, his stamina knows no bounds when he's mad. Normally, he prefers 1-2 rounds a happy medium.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on you or themselves?)
He doesn't own any toys as he's too embarrassed to buy them, online or at brick-and-mortar. If you use any, he likes using them on you during your raptures to rile you up even more.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Oh this man adores teasing. Especially when he can see that you're too self-assured that day, he likes breaking down your barriers of faux confidence and making you melt in his grasp.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Aside from occasional grunts and moans he isn't very vocal. He loves listening to your sounds though. This man is generally lovestruck by you. With little sounds comes how quiet he is. Maybe that little office endeavour could happen then?
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
I think he would go feral if you were to wear lingere for your first time with him. He is definitely a flatterer but he would be talking and thinking about you on the bed just in those perfectly enveloping you bra and panties... MON DIEU.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
He is on the lean side with his medium height statue perfectly complimenting his overall shape... What? Oh yeah his dick. That's what this subpoint is about. He's hung, not uncomfortably so that you couldn't take him all at once but enough to not be able to put it in without some prep first.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Once again he will do it as often as you like, it all depends on you. Although once he's desperate he won't hold back on you and go at it for hours...
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
After clean up, he falls asleep in your arms pretty quickly spent from all the lovemaking. Sometimes he stays still just to face your sleeping form and watch your peacefull demeanor, safe from all the evils of the world when in his embrace.
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f1haaland · 1 year
Note
Hello, first, I love you Fernando Alonso imagine, second, could you do a Fernando one where it's your birthday and have no race during the week and takes advantage of this to spoil you during the week and ends with having sex on his yacht after a candlelight dinner
𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 / 𝑭𝑨𝟏𝟒
pairing: sugar daddy!fernando alonso x fem!reader
word count: 1.4k
author's note: i wasn't going to write this one now bc i have a couple of requests to write still, but it's my birthday week so it felt appropriate. happy birthday to me!
warnings: significant age gap (reader is 23, fernando is 41), pure filth, no plot just sex, unprotected sex btw, oral sex (female receiving), p in v, boat sex i guess but not really, NOT MEANT FOR MINORS
reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. support your content creators!! 🫶🏽
➜ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚 𝟏 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
this is a spin-off to this oneshot
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· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ༓  ༓ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·
After 1 year together, things were working out amazing for you and Fernando. Surprisingly, not many people were judging your relationship, and the internet considered you his "controversial young girlfriend".
Your studies were doing great, your relationship couldn't be better, and you were living the life of your dreams.
Fernando had brought you to Monaco with him to celebrate your 23rd birthday. Of course, he had a home there, but you optioned to spend your special night with him on his brand-new yacht.
You had made him one simple request to him: "Do not buy me gifts." Fernando didn't took that very well, offended that he couldn't spoil the love of his life, but he did as you ordered. He had already planned a dinner for tonight, and in the morning you woke up to lots of different flowers in your room. He gets you new stuff all the time. You thought you don't an extra expensive souvenir just because you became a year older.
You wore a red dress and a ponytail, simple but chic, and just the way he liked. There wasn't a need to dress up for something made just for the two of you, but he enjoyed it when you made an effort to look nice just for him.
Blindfolded, he took you to the dock, where he had set a table dinner to candlelight for you. The dinner wasn't a surprise of course, but he had set the table all for himself just for you.
Dinner was going great, until...
"Shit!" You got startled by the loud sounds of explosions.
You turned your head to look behind you, as fireworks painted the skies in your favorite colors. You watched as hundreds of lights in drones flew over the sea, forming in different designs until they turned into the shape of a heart with your initials next to it. Fernando admired your surprised face with a huge grin on his own.
"Wait... is this for me?" You gasped at the realization, "Nano, you did this for me?"
"Everything I do is for you, mi amor" Fernando declared.
That was the biggest love gesture he has ever done for you. The first letter of your name was so big and bright in the sky you could bet the whole Monaco could see it. You hoped they could see just how much your man loved and worshiped you.
You never felt so turned on in your whole life.
You immediately forgot about the candlelight dinner. You got up and jumped in his lap. Fernando's hands gripped on your waist with his life, as your tongue battled with his in a wet and messy kiss. You bit his bottom lip and pulled between your teeth, making him groan hoarsely.
You worked your hips on top of his lap, moving forward and backwards, feeling his excitement start to grow beneath you. His palms slid down through your form until they reached your ass, grabbing it with such strength.
Fernando murmured against your skin, "What has gotten into you, corazón?"
He stood up, holding you to him. It didn't take long until you felt your body being tossed to the deck sofa.
"Don't ask, just fuck me" You begged, breathlessly.
You could have taken your dress, but the eagerness to be fucked screamed louder.
Fernando helped you out of your panties, opening your legs wide open so he could get a perfect view of your glistening wet cunt. His digits slightly brushed over it, teasing you. He planted sensual kisses all over your neck until he found an extra sensitive zone behind your ear lobe and focused on it. You gasped and whined helplessly.
"Look at you, so wet for me..." He taunted, leaving gentle bites on the curve of your neck.
You moaned as your small hand worked on top of the growing bulge inside his trousers. His shorts felt impossibly tight, and uncomfortably moist where the head of his cock was leaking.
Fernando proceeded to spread your slick arousal over your sensitive clit and rub you from side to side. You felt his erection get harder and harder under your palm. It was soon rock hard, but he didn’t seem to lose his composure. You, on the other hand, were a wreck.
His fingers were the most experienced you had ever had before. Even your own touch couldn’t compare.
"Is this what the birthday girl wants?" Fernando kissed your ear, drawing out a pleasured moan from you, "Beg me to fuck you, princess"
"Please nano, please" You tried to stifle your moaning when his knuckles disappeared into you.
He mocked, "Aren't you the cutest?"
Fernando got onto his knees in front of you, hiking up your dress to your stomach.
"Let me taste how desperate you are"
He didn't let you have time to process the sudden change of position, Fernando's mouth now worked where once his fingers were buried. Your fingers gripped his scalp, desperately needing to touch him. He brushed his thumb over your clit, circling that little bundle of nerves until you became a whimpering mess for him.
You tried to keep your moans and purring quiet. It was no easy task considering how damn good his wet tongue felt, moving in different ways on your warm core.
"Ah-ah, don't silence yourself, princesa. I want to hear your pretty noises." He taunted, flicking his tongue over your clit just to watch you squirm, "C'mon, be a good girl and do it again."
His voice sounding stern and seductive sent you into bliss, and erotic moans ripped your throat open just because he asked you to. Because just like the other way around, you'd do anything for him.
"Fuck, I'm so close!" You whispered out loud.
You bucked your hips towards him, fucking yourself on his finger and mouth. His hands held yours steady on your stomach, under the silky red fabric of your dress.
He slowed to a stop and removed his pleasurable fingers. You whined.
"Fernan–"
Hopping on top of you, Fernando grabbed your face between his hand and attacked your lips, silencing you with his own. He got in between your legs, and you felt something hard and velvety against your slit. Your heart pounded with the quick realization that it was his cock.
He rubbed his cockhead against your gushing slit while he whispered in your ear, "Make a wish, birthday girl"
"Fuck me, please"
He slowly thrust inside you, letting you savor every second of the pleasurable intrusion. You gasped. He filled you so perfectly.
Fernando groaned as he felt his dick ripping your walls open.
"Fuck, Nando!" You bit your lip hard, eyes turning to the back of your head.
You felt his hard length rubbing against every pleasurable spot inside you. The very walls of your pussy were alight with your once again approaching orgasm in a way you had never experienced before. Usually, it had to be your clit bringing you this much pleasure. This was even better.
"Fuck, you feel so good" He groaned against the crook of your neck, "like this pussy was made jus' for me. You were made jus' for me."
He growled with excitement and forcibly held your hands down on either side of your head, palms glued to each other, fingers entwined to his own. Even for his age, his stamina was relentless. You kept moaning and begging, and although you were incapable of any coherent thoughts, you kept eye contact, staring deep into those brown chocolate eyes that you so loved.
"Yes, sweetie, jus' like that. You're such a good girl" He murmured, his praisings driving you insane, "Come on my cock, love. Let it out for me."
Fernando's cock kept punching into you just right, reaching a fiery spot deep inside you. Your mind went blank. You felt a sweet, mind-blowing release spilling over. Your pussy simply gushed around him. His cock twitched inside you. A moment later he was moaning loudly in your ear. He thrust his cock a few more slow, firm times as you felt him come undone deep inside you.
He held himself deep but still inside you for a moment while he caught his breath. You were even more breathless than he was. Your every muscle relaxed into the sofa. You smiled like you couldn't help it.
Fernando kissed your ear. "Happy birthday, corazón."
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yourusername birthday dump. feeling 23.
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rushtoprove · 1 year
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our little secret
part two: revenge
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pairing: aemond targaryen x f!reader chapter: 2 rating: teen and up word count: 5k+ summary: aemond promised to take you as his wife when the time was right and you had no reason to doubt him. but when news of his engagement to cassandra baratheon is announced, and your name is left ruined by his nightly visits to your chamber, you have no choice but to flee from the shame you have brought upon your family and to run from the man you love. but not all is as it seems chapter summary: three years pass you by and you remain exiled from everyone you once held dear. when news reaches dorne that aemond is to visit the city, you must quickly find a way to seek the revenge you think you deserve. warnings: sexual references and nsfw scenes. period typical misogyny and course language. chapters: 1 / 2 notes: there has got to be an easier way to do taglists oh my lord. there has been such an insane reaction to this fic and i'm on cloud nine. i also got lots of requests on how this was going to play out and i'm very sorry if it's not how you imagined but hopefully you can still enjoy. I will definitely be posting another chapter after this but i THINK that will be it :P
It had been a long three years for you. Overwhelmed by heartbreak and despair, and barely breathing from bitterness and rage, this time had passed in a tidal wave of emotion. You had spent many nights weeping for Aemond Targaryen while crying out for you family and your home. You missed the gentleness of his touch, and the grip he held on to you in your long nights of passion. You craved how low his voice was when he whispered his poetic words, and the laugh he swore he only shared with you. Desperate for the feeling of your mother’s embrace and missing the way your brother would walk you around the grounds every morning, you thought you might die from your depression. You missed it all.
You sent letter upon letter to your family, imploring them to allow you home, and to see reason. You begged them to accept your deepest apologies, but not one was returned. You found yourself alone and abandoned in Dorne, a city you grew up to believe it was nothing more than debauchery and sin wherever you turned. For the first four months of your banishment, you refused to leave your room. You hardly ate the food that was delivered by your handmaiden, and your curtains were never pulled back. The days passed you by, but you did not know, for you were curled up beneath your blankets, praying to wake up from this nightmare. You were lucky, your banishment ended with you being a guest in Sunspear, the castle that home the noble House Martell. You could have been banished to the streets of silk or left to rot in the gutters of the Stormlands, but instead you were homed with the ruling lords of Dorne.
After a year of wondering around in a cloud of misery and despair, something inside you broke. Quickly you found yourself cursing the cruel prince for the way he had led you to believe his lies. How could you have been so foolish to believe a prince would consider taking you as a wife. You allowed him to keep you in a daze, submissive to his needs in a desperate belief that you would have your fairy tale ending. Suddenly you found yourself enraged by the memory of your controlling family who never once seemed to care for your needs. You do not remember a day in your whole life that your father had ever asked how you fair. Nor do you recall your mother ever standing up for you when your father would push you into the sights of old, savage and vulgar men for courting. Your brother was still young enough to be kind when needed but give a few years and he would be sure to follow in his father’s shadow.
Slowly your overwhelming desire to be with those you loved, turned into a desperate need for revenge. It kept you up at night. Your mind conjured up different ways to take the vengeance you so desperately craved but nothing seemed to hit the way you wanted. You knew it was not as serious as to murder, nor was it something you would even be able to stomach. You thought of sending more letter’s, declaring your hatred and resentment for all those who wronged you, but it was not enough. You didn’t know what you would do, but you were sure it would be something magnificent.
It was Prince Maron Martell, that came to you with a solution.
It was he, who ventured to your rooms every day, willing you to leave your darkened chambers, and it was he who succeeded in bringing you out into his father’s court. The way he spoke so freely, and acted so carelessly, brought you nothing but jealousy. You despised that it be so easy for a man to act immoral, to drink and fuck and sleep, and there be no consequence. No banishment. You were shamed for enjoying even the simplest of pleasures.
After one-to-many wine’s you allowed yourself to confess this.
“You are in Dorne little lady. We do not care for that judgement here. Pleasure and satisfaction are natural for the human body. Who are we to stop anyone from reaching true euphoria? If I do not care, and that woman under the arch over there does not care, nor does that boy behind the fountain care, why do you care so much?” You didn’t understand at first. The idea that pleasure was not to be hidden. You had spent so long hiding behind the closed doors of Aemond’s chamber, both trying to hide the sounds that your bodies desperately wished to make. You could not be seen making any advances in the eye of the court, nor could you allow the risk of anyone catching glimpses of small touches even in the darkest of corners. You had spent so long on edge, ashamed and frightened of what would happen if you were ever caught in the prince’s arms. It was immoral for a woman to partake in such activities for her own enjoyment, worst yet an unmarried one.
“I do not get the same freedom you do Maron. Women in this world are born to be caged. I am caged by my father. I shall be caged by my brother. My husband will likely close me up in the smallest cage of all. I shall never know freedom and I was a reckless whore for allowing myself to succumb to such depravity. Look where it got me.” You huffed at his care-free attitude as you swung a deeper gulp from your wine. You were already flushed from the scorching heat of the Dornish sun but sitting beneath it for a picnic with jugs upon jugs of wine was a terrible idea and you thought your face would melt then and there.
“Such harsh words from my favourite little lady. You are much too hard on yourself. Also I have sent many Dornish dresses to your room girl. You need to wear them. Your Westeros dresses are much too thick, I fear you shall pass out any second.”
“I cannot. It would be improper.” You let out a nervous laugh as you thought of the sheer dresses hanging in your cupboard. The way it felt as if you hardly wore anything. The materiel was too light, and you felt more exposed than you ever felt. Even if it did allow the wind to cool your temperature and the air allowed your skin to breathe, you could not think of the scandal it would create if your father found out.
Then one day, you did not care.
You found yourself gliding through the palace in the dresses with such ease you could not understand the trepidation you had to start with. Soon you became a frequent guest at the scandalous parties Prince Maron would hold every full moon and you finally allowed yourself to succumb to the pleasure and freedom that Dorne offered. You concerned yourself less and less for your appearance, your family name and instead you found yourself liberated. You had never felt so light and blissful. Without the watchful eyes of the courtiers and family members, and without the overwhelming need to please Aemond Targaryen, you were released from your misery.
Your awakening had been almost two years of uninterrupted freedom. But one day, it was ruined.
“Your past lover and his prudish family are coming to visit.” The words fell from Prince Maron’s lips so casually you could have almost missed it. But the strawberry you were about to draw to yours was quickly tossed down in shock.
“Pray tell… what do you mean?” Your heart raced as you felt your body still. As if a single move could destroy everything that you had built up. Memory upon memory of your once true love flashed through your mind making your heart ache punishingly hard. For a second you thought you might be experiencing a heart attack.
"The Targaryen's.” His hand quickly shot out and he brought your abandoned fruit to his lips with a smirk. He loved to frustrate you during your friendship, and it irritated you to no ends. With a deep breath and some calming words in your mind, you felt yourself recline in your seat and stare. You would not allow your past to disrupt everything you had built for yourself.
“Why do they come? Kings Landing hates Dorne. The Targaryen’s hate Dorne. Dorne hates Kings Landing. The Martell’s hate Kings Landing.” Maron hissed out in agreement before laughing at your declaration.
“Ah yes, I do hate those fucking Targaryen’s and Kings Landing, and you want to know something? I hate Aemond Targaryen most of all. Have I ever told you that?” You frowned at his confession. He had not mentioned this even after you had spent months weeping in his arms over everything Aemond had put you through. Although it still morning, you found yourself reaching for the wine to continue this conversation.
“I did not know you were acquainted.”
“Not long before you arrived here, our family welcomed Prince Aemond for a week. He was on some diplomatic mission or some fuckery. He was a miserable cunt, and everyone believed him to be arrogant and rude, but my sister Nymeria…” Taking in a deep breath, Marion flattened his hands and looked sadly down to his plate with the familiar distance in his eyes that always flooded him when he mentioned Nymeria. “Nymeria became besotted. In only a week she declared he was the love of her life. Begged us to let her wed him.” It was as if Marion had reached his fingers inside her chest, just to clutch your heart and squeeze it with a formidable force.
“Aemond seems to have that affect.” You looked away, desperately trying to fight the jealousy that coursed through your veins. It should be no surprise that Aemond was courting yet another woman during your time with him. You tried hard not to think about how many more there could have been.
“Yes. My little sister, my sweet little sister, was absolutely infatuated. So much so that she declared it for him. I remember how nervous she was, how hard she paced as she planned what she would say. They walked around the gardens for hours, and everyone thought it must have worked and that Nymeria would come back Princess of Westeros. But the miserable cunt turned her down. Flew away on his dragon and left her heart broken. Just like you, I spent my days bundling her up in my arms trying to soothe her cries. Aemond had told her he could not marry her for he was promised to another and not two months later, the news of his engagement to Cassandra Baratheon was announced.” You flinched at the name while pursing your lips to try and hide the way you were willing yourself not to cry. The thought of Aemond with his wife was already something you battled before sleep every night, you did not need the image during the day.
“Did he…” You don’t know why you asked because you were sure the answer would bring you nothing but more pain, and gods, you were over pain.
“Did he have her? She said no. You know those men like to keep their wife until marriage. I shall never know the truth.” He had not waited to have you. He did not plan to wed you.
“Perhaps he has a need, a pride, to break young girls' hearts. Perhaps it darkens his already black heart.” You twirled your finger upon the rim of the goblet you drank from while Prince Marion pondered upon your words.
“Perhaps. Or perhaps he is so careless he simply does not think of what is at stake to those around him. Only a few days after the news of his betrothal Nymeria was taken by a fever. I do not blame him for her sickness. But I will not have him parading around with his family proudly within our walls while my sister spent her dying moments wasting her tears on him. I wish to seek revenge for my sister… and I know you want your own form of retribution from the young prince.” Meeting his eye, you noticed the gleam of excitement. You could not lie; you were interested in what he had in mind.
“Hmmm.” You leaned on your elbow upon the table and allowed your chin to rest upon your palm as your amusement overtook your heartache.
“Wed me.” You could not contain the laugh the passed through your smirking lips.
“Wed you?”
“Yes. Wed me.”
“It may have escaped you, but I'm not your usual type.” He cackled at your words, knowing full well that he was attracted to his squires and court men and could not imagine being intimate with a woman. As dear as you were to him.
“Obviously my little lady. But just while he is here. We announce our engagement and partake in activities with a united front. Your ghosts need not know the truth. Let them think you are to wed me. Your family is within the royal party and shall be attending as well. Let your family think you are to marry into the greatest house in Westeros. And let the fickle little prince think his lover has been taken by a much prettier, stronger prince.” You were both laughing, but you knew the fatal flaw in his grand plan.
“Aemond cares not for me. I was just another body to warm his bed, and he left me discarded without a second thought. He will not care that you have me. Hells, he will likely not remember me at all.” The truth left you disheartened, but Marion only laughed harder.
“Those bastards from your little city are all the same. A man like Aemond will always consider you, his property. He has you once and in his mind no one else can have you again. I will never understand the greed and selfishness of your people. The ownership you all feel over your pleasure. Aemond shall know you, and he shall definitely care when he sees you by my side. Trust me.” You let your mind take over as you pondered on his proposition. If Aemond and your family were to arrive, you would have no choice but to see them during the dinners and banquets and the gloom that lingered over you at the mere thought sent a shiver racing down your spine. But the idea of your family having to bow as you took your position beside Prince Marion, and the thought of Aemond’s shocked gaze as you wrap a loving arm around your betrothed made the dark future a little brighter.
It was not murder. Nor was it letters. But you considered this the perfect revenge for those who wronged you.
+++
You did not go and greet the royal party upon their arrival. The Martell’s simply apologised that Prince Marion’s future wife could not make it. No one spared a second thought. Tonight, however, Marion was holding a masked ball in honour of the honoured guests. You knew now that it was the time to creep out from the shadows you had been banished to. Embarrassingly enough, however, a small part of you still found yourself waiting for a knock at your door as you readied yourself for the grand banquet. You don’t know if you wanted Aemond or your family to be behind it and you would never know, for they never came.
The nerves got the better of you, and you ended up an hour late to the festivities. Sneaking through a side door, you managed to enter without being seen and quickly blended into the hall full of masked figures. Fire twirlers and dancers hanging from silk upon the roof entertained the already drunken crowd, leaving no one to pay attention to your late arrival. The hall was deafeningly loud, with the music and the laughter battling one another. The atmosphere reeked of wine and food and the hall was humid from the fire and the dancing bodies. A banquet in Kings Landing would never be this exciting.
“Hello beautiful.” You felt an arm wrap tightly around you, drawing you in and leaving you facing a drunken fool. His breath was hot, and the smell of mead was bitter to your senses, leaving you nauseated.
“Get the fuck off.” You grunted, shoving him away in anger. The cunt swore under his breath before stumbling away, off to hunt down another victim, you were sure. The moment he moved; however, your vision was cleared, and you could see who sat upon the royal table. Gods, you wished you hadn’t.
“Handsome. Aren’t they?” Someone laughed as you were caught staring up at the silver haired figures. The entire Targaryen family were shoulder to shoulder as they put on a united front against the Dornish gaze. Your glare was stuck on Aemond, who stood proudly as he gazed down at those who he probably considered beneath him. He was still as handsome as ever, with his sharp jawline and glorious Targaryen hair. His posture was still flawless, and his black leather still fit his slender body perfectly. His eye was still covered by his eye patch, and you thought back to the last time you had seen him. The way he had bowed himself to you while you slid it from his face. The lies he told you when he said he only allowed you to gaze upon what was hidden beneath. Everything he ever promised you was now nothing but lies in your mind. You hated how handsome he looked, and you hated the way your heart raced the way it used to all those years ago. You wanted to scream right then and there, but you breath was caught in your throat.
Impossible as you thought it could be, you swore that when he looked into the crowd, he found you. But it was impossible. You had imagined the way his eye had widened, and the small step forward he had taken. He could not have known it you beneath the mask you wore. There were too many people around you for him to even spot your figure in the horde. Yet, for that very moment, your world stopped. The entire hall faded, and everything went quiet as you stood, staring at your lost love. The few seconds in your mind where it was just you and him, was bliss.
You thought back to the first time you met Aemond Targaryen. Your first-time meeting happened to be your first time alone with him. Your family had been invited to live in the Red Keep alongside your father as he made his way up the hierarchy of power. You cared little for his scheming, but the idea of living in a castle was exciting enough. The idea of living in a place with such ancient libraries was even more. You spent your days huddling in different corners, sprawling lazily in the window’s light or simply sitting by the empty fireplace in the corner, devouring every book you could get your hands on.
“It’s beginning to irritate me that you are stealing all the interesting books.” He had been watching you quietly from the balcony above every time you had wondered into his spot. It was his only place he could have peace and quiet, until you came along. For some unknown reason, he did not seem to mind.
“Prince Aemond. Apologies for interrupting.” You had gasped out, reddened in shock at the sight of him. He had slowly descended towards you, like a hunter to its prey. You felt something shift inside you that very moment.
“No matter. I see you hiding around here almost all hours of the day. What is your name?”
And for two months you had spent your days hiding within the library with your prince. It started innocently enough, sharing book suggestions and discussing his philosophy studies. Sometimes you think, you can’t remember what led to you spending your night squirming beneath his devilish touch.
You cursed yourself for reliving the memories of your past and for falling back to your foolish ways so easily. Turning to the idiot who asked the question in the first place, you grunted out your reply.
“I’ve seen better.” Marching away in frustration, you practically ran to the table that held the jugs of wine. One of the servants tried to slowly pour a glass, but you simply snatched the jug and filled your goblet to the very top. Downing it quickly, you poured another. It was beyond frustrating that after everything Aemond Targaryen had done, and after all the healing you had been through, you were still reduced to a love struck fool the moment you saw him again.
No. You would not allow this.
Turning quickly on your heel, your eyes darted between the courtiers and lords, trying to find the perfect one. Even with masks, you recognised familiar faces. Jason Lannister stood happily beside some poor young girl who only barely looked of age. The young Baratheon lord who once sent a poem a day to your rooms once upon a time was standing amongst some Dornish men trying to see who could gulp down a barrel of spiced wine the quickest. The Tyrell first-born who had promised to sail you around the world way back when, lay passed out beneath one of the fire dancers' stages. It was Aemond, and the thought of what could be, that had led you to reject the advances of all these men, but looking around now, it was obvious you had made the right decision.
“My wife… please listen…” You were shoved harshly from the left, leaving you stumbling to gain composure, while a light-footed woman darted past in anger. Your body recovered, but your heart began crumbling as you watched your brother try and chase the woman who was shoving her way through the crowd.
“Go back to that flexible dancer you bastard. I can tell you were enjoying watching!” Without a second glance, your brother pushed himself further, and swept you to the side so he could chase after his wife, leaving you trying to fight the ache in your heart. Your brother, whom you had adored from the moment you were born, had been wed without anyone giving you any information. Perhaps he had children, and now you were an aunt? What else had you missed out on?
“Excuse me, my lady?” Finally tearing your eyes from the sight of your brother, you turned to see a Lord bowed before you. His brown curls tumbled down his toned shoulders and sat pretty against his white undershirt that he had taken to only wearing in this heat.
“Yes?” You frowned at him, but taking in his muscular body, and his towering height, you knew you had found the right one. You did not need to do anything for it seemed he had come to act out your desire on his own accord.
“I am Lord Cregan Stark. I was hoping I may steal you away for this dance.” His hand extended out to you, and you happily grasped on to it with a seductive laugh.
“Oh, you may.” You had taken a liking to the toned man already, and you melted as everyone brushed to the side quickly to let through his towering form. But he was too gentle. You could barely feel his touch as he guided you to the starting position of the dance, and when you began moving, he did not pull you any closer than need be.
“A Stark in Dorne? I did not think your house left the snow for anything.” You let your fingernail drag over his bicep as you spun and felt a sense of pride in the way he clenched at the sensation.
“My younger sister Sara wished to visit the court of King Viserys. I am simply her humble guard. We did not realise a visit to Kings Landing would end up being a trip to Dorne.”
“And do you like Dorne?” He pondered on your question for a moment, before sadly shaking his head.
“No. And I don’t like Kings Landing either. It is much too hot for my Winterfell raised body.” You smiled at his bluntness; happy he was truthful in your conversation. But you were given no time to reply. A brawl broke out in the centre of the hall, and you felt yourself swept back in the horde of people moving away from the violence. Screams began ringing out and soon everyone began pushing harshly against one another to escape or join in on the savagery.
“Sara!” Cregan cried out as he craned his neck to look around the hall. You pushed him arm away from your shoulder as he tried to keep you away from the commotion.
“Go and find her! I will be alright.” He looked at you for a split second, before giving you a grateful nod and pushing his way in to the centre of the circle. It seemed the brutality was only gaining more force and you found yourself being shoved around harshly, rattling your brain and leaving you breathless and dizzy.
“Marion!?” You cried out, trying your best to push your way out of the stampede of feet and arms failing around you. Just when you thought you had reached the outer circle of the fight, the crowd surged in your direction, and you felt yourself fly towards the stone floor beneath you. You cried out in fear and threw your hands forward, bracing yourself from an impact that never came.
“There you are sweetheart. Sorry I’m late, I was looking everywhere for you.”
You could have cried. The familiar safety of his arms wrapping around your body almost broke you then and there. The voice that haunted your dreams was so smooth, you forgot everything. When he pulled you tightly into his chest and moved you forwards, carrying you from the danger, you couldn’t help uttering his name from your lips.
“Aemond…” You whispered, your eyes closing in relief as you found yourself able to breathe again. You felt him brush the hair that had been stuck by sweat to your forehead and began caressing the side of your face as you relaxed into his arms. You were still overcome with dizziness from the ordeal.
“My love, this is where you’ve been hiding from me, I see.” You don’t recall if you imagined the crack in his voice or not. You struggled to breath properly leaving Aemond to run his hand along your back in worry, and he pressed a firm kiss to your temple. He did not see the tear the escaped your closed eyes.
“You…” You croaked out, before quickly shaking your head. Pushing against him, Aemond tumbled back with a start and stood staring at you in shock. You kept shaking your head as you stumbled backwards, trying to rid yourself from the warmth that had taken over you by his touch.
“Stop. Come back I… I must look upon you longer. I must convince myself that you are real and that you will not fade before my eye.” He stalked forward to grasp your hands, but you quickly ripped them away and shook harder. You thought it might be pain that flashed across his face, but it was surely not.
“NO! You do not get to look upon me! You do not get to touch me! I will not let you whisper your words any longer!” You tried to steady yourself on a tree, and only just realised Aemond had pulled you into the gardens for safety and fresh air. You heard him move behind you, and without thinking you quickly began walking forward. You don’t know where you were going but you just wanted to be away from him. You remembered the way he would chase you around his bedchamber when you would deny him a kiss unless he caught you. You pictured the memory of him finally wrapping you up and shoving you against the wall while clutching your hair and kissing you with unimaginable passion. The memories were too much to bare and you ran you fingers vigorously through your hair, as if trying to peel them away.
“Stop! No, I won’t let you run away again!” You heard Aemond quickly move to follow you, making your walk turn into a run. Dashing forward without a second thought, you ran straight into the entrance of the maze at the centre of the garden, running faster as you heard Aemond’s heavy foot falls behind you. You weaved around corners and took sharp turns in different directions, hoping to lose the prince who was desperately trying to follow. He was muttering and growling in frustration every time your body slipped away from his reach.
“Leave me Aemond! I do not wish to see you!” You cried out as you stormed around another corner. Aemond called out your name while ignoring your plea and chasing after you even faster.
“Well, that is too bad! You owe me this do you not think!?” His voice was weaved with anger, and you could hear the way he was shoving away the branches and trying to rip his way through to you.
“I owe you nothing!” You were shocked by his nerve, but you thought him just trying to provoke you. Marion was right. Men like Aemond would always think himself an owner over those he takes to bed, but you would not allow him to have that control over you. How dare he think you owe him anything after he played you a fool?
“Just come to me so we can…. please just let me talk to you once more.” You shivered at the desperation in his voice. He was a brilliant actor. Perhaps if he wasn’t born a prince, he would be in plays.
“We have nothing to discuss Prince Aemond. You should find your way back to the ball, it is in your honour.” You found yourself back at the very start of the maze, so you bundled up your skirts and took off in the direction of the feast. You heard Aemond cry out your name in protest, begging for you to return to him, but you paid no mind. You did not imagine you would hear your name on his lips once more. Tumbling into the open doors, you were quickly swept up in Marion’s arms.
“Where the fuck did you end up?” He laughed in relief, bundling you up and pressing a firm kiss on your forehead.
“Don’t ask.” You moaned into his neck. You held him tightly, desperate for some relief to the pain you were feeling.
“Aemond!” You heard the cry of Queen Alicent, and could only assume that the prince had followed you in. The hall was emptied of its guests and all that was left was a small handful of noblemen who seemed to have been waiting for the safe arrival of Aemond after such vicious fighting.
You thought you would feel a small satisfaction that he would be greeted with the sight of you wrapped up in Marion’s arms, but instead you felt cold and empty. Once more Aemond whispered your name, but you did not turn and instead focused your attention on Marion. With a small squeeze on your elbow, Marion placed a kiss upon your forehead and wrapped a loving arm around your waist.
“Ah Prince Aemond! A thousand thank-you’s for returning my betrothed to me so safe and sound. I was overwhelmed with worry.” Aemond’s intake of breath was sharp and loud as Marion declared you his future wife. You hid yourself behind so that no one saw the tears well in your eyes.
“My son… come.” Alicent ordered sadly, almost pitifully.
“Is this true?” Aemond snapped.
“Yes! I have found myself quite fond of my little lady.” In fact, I…” Marion was cut off by Aemond raising his voice.
“Will you not at least have the decency to fucking face me?” He seethed out. You could stand it no longer. Stumbling forward once more, you walked briskly towards the exit. Your brother and father stood to the side, jaws slack as they took you in, but you cared not. All you wanted was to be alone inside your bedchamber to wallow in your despair. You just wanted to be alone.
You did not see the way Aemond stared at your shrinking figure in despair.
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wol-fica · 10 months
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[ℝ𝔼ℂℍ𝔸ℤ𝔸𝕄𝔼]-ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕗𝕖𝕔𝕥-
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pairings - jennaortega x fem!reader
summary - simpy down-bad reader back at it again, this time on a red carpet feature !
warnings - fluff, sprinkle of spice, make-out session
an - im planning on writing pt4 for Woe Is Me, it’s just been hard trying to figure out what the best plot line it should be. thank you so much to those who have been so patient, i applaud you for that
(THIS IS APART OF A SMALL SERIES, EACH CHAPTER WILL BE A WORD THAT STARTS WITH THE LETTER P, THE FIRST TWO ARE PRAISING AND PLEASING)
(see dress and suit)
╭∩╮(ಠ_ಠ)╭∩╮╭∩╮(ಠ_ಠ)╭∩╮
“Babe…” Jenna murmured from beside you, reaching out to grab your hand, “You doing okay?”
“I’m fine.” You lied, putting on a small smile, “I promise.”
The two of you were at a huge event for Jenna’s new movie with the Weeknd, and your anxiety was not happy with you. Ever since you arrived and saw the large crowd, your stomach has been clawing at your throat as soon as you stepped out of the car.
Jenna had done as much as she could to make you feel as comfortable as possible, but there was only so many things she could do. It’s not like she could remove the large crowd, and even if she could, there would still be tons of paparazzi in your face with big cameras and even bigger flashes.
Thankfully, she made sure you were always near her and tucked behind someone at all times so you wouldn’t be in the spotlight. Having bodyguards and stylists around her at all times made it very easy for you to hide from the publicity.
As of right now, you were standing sort of behind Enrique, his body being used as a shield so you wouldn’t have to see the photographers head on. Jenna was to your right, smiling for the cameras and posing whenever someone yelled her name.
“Jenna over here!”
“Look this way Jenna!”
“Jenna this way!”
“C’mon Jenna smile for me!”
“Big smile Jenna! Give me a pretty face!”
“This is intense.” You muttered to Enrique, cringing when the calls got slightly louder.
He laughed, leaning back ever so slightly to bump his shoulder to yours. “You get used to it, I promise.”
‘Definitely not’ You thought, shuffling over when someone wanted to pass. Big events and celebrity stuff was for Jenna, all you wanted and needed to be was her assistant who stayed silent and did what you were told. You also needed to be her girlfriend, someone to keep her anchored and sane in her hollywood world.
“We are gonna move into the theater soon.” Natalie said from your left, nudging your leg with her hand to get your attention, “Jenna has one more interview until we get to go in, so we can wait over there.”
“Okay.” You replied, glancing at your girlfriend before following Natalie to a more secluded spot on the carpet.
Once you both were situated, you turned to watch Jenna do her last interview for the night. She smiled and laughed, enthusiastically talking about the new movie and her previous projects that she loved so much. The joyful aura she was radiating had you swooning.
It was easy for you to just admire her, taking in her beauty from afar. She was a blessing from above, or what your mom liked to say, a nice plate of christmas ham; something that looks great and is enjoyed by all.
“Thank you so much!” The interviewer said to Jenna as she left.
She smiled and waved goodbye before turning towards you and Natalie, her eyes immediately finding yours. A slight blush came across her cheeks at the sight of you, her bottom lip slipping in between her teeth while her eyes scanned your body.
‘She’s checking me out’ You thought, rocking nervously on your feet.
“Are you ready?” Jenna’s manager asked her, causing her eyes to leave yours.
“Yeah! Let’s go enjoy the movie!” She said enthusiastically, looking at everyone while they all nodded.
You smiled at her, falling into step beside her when she slipped her hand into yours. She moved closer to you, slightly leaning into you so her mouth was near your ear.
“You look extremely handsome darling.” She murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I need to put you in suits more often.”
You blushed madly, a shy smile creeping onto your face. Jenna giggled at your reaction, bumping her shoulder against yours before standing up straighter when you both reached the entryway into the theater.
Once you were ushered to your seats, you were quick to take your suit jacket off and give it to Jenna. You knew how chilly it could get at these kind of viewings, and you also knew that Jenna gets cold very easily, so the best option was to just give her your jacket to avoid her getting grumpy.
“Thank you.” She said after you helped her out it on, “C’mere and sit.”
You obliged, sliding into the seat next to her. Immediately she took your hand and placed it on her thigh, both of her hands resting on top of your own. Her touch was soft, welcoming and warm for you to invade her space and be apart of it whenever you wanted to be.
“You’re cold.” Jenna noted, pulling your hand to the inside of her thigh, “And shaky, are you okay?”
“Yeah, just a little anxious.” You answered honestly, running your tongue along your teeth, “I’m fine though!”
Jenna glanced at your bouncing leg, then back to your shaky hand, and then stood up. She tugged you up with her, wordlessly walking out of the theatre and into the lobby. Very few people were there, just a couple directors and some security, but other than them it was empty.
“Jenna.” You said, curious to where she was taking you.
She stayed silent, dragging you along until she came face to face with the girls bathroom. She pushed the door open, pulling you inside and shutting it behind you when you crossed the threshold. The sound of the lock clicking hit your ears, but before you could comment you were being pushed up and onto the counter.
Jenna say you on the cold surface, nudging your knees apart with her own before settling in between your legs. Her hands found their way to rest on your thighs, and the she leaned up to kiss you.
Her lips were soft, plump and warm and tasting faintly of strawberries and stale lipstick. You kissed her back immediately, your hands automatically drifting up to cup her cheeks. It felt comfortable and natural to kiss her, especially when she squeezed your thigh and slid her tongue into your mouth when you let out a small gasp.
“Jenna.” Your moan was muffled by her kiss, body on fire from her touch.
“Shhh.” She murmured to you, kissing from the corner of your lips down to your collarbone, “Let me help you relax.”
You sighed, turning your head to the side to give her more room to mark your neck. Jenna pecked the underside of your jaw in response, her lips moving down to suck on your jugular.
“Y-your manager is g-gonna kill me…” You whisper, your eyes rolling from the feeling of her sucking a hickey onto your neck.
“They won’t do anything, you are not their property.” Jenna said, leaning back to look at what she did to you.
You turned your head, eyes widening at the sight. Your neck was covered in little dark spots, skin littered with hickeys all over. There was a slightly larger and darker one on your collarbone, a clear sign of Jenna’s possessive nature.
“You look…” She pondered for a moment, looking at you in the mirror, “Hot.”
You agreed, because you truly did look hot. With the marks all over your neck, and the way that your shirt was ruffled and undone down to your your bellybutton really helped to give you the part of the sexy butch bisexual.
“Thanks, I guess?” You responded, giving her a cheeky grin.
Jenna giggled, standing up on her tippy toes to kiss the tip of your nose. Her hand slipped into yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“We need to go back.” You mumbled, tilting your head down to rest your forehead against hers while your eyes fell shut, “They are probably looking for you.”
“Let them.” Jenna replied, her other hand sliding around your waist to pull herself closer to you.
“But-?”
“Don’t.” She interrupted you, kissing your lips softly, “I don’t care if they need me, want me, or whatever. I’m here for you, because you need me.”
“Okay.” You whispered, scrunching your face up when she nudged her nose against yours, “We can stay.”
“Are you feeling better?” She asked, pulling back to grasp your chin gently, “Anything else I can do?”
You smirked, leaning your head into her palm, “You can kiss my some more, I don’t think you did enough.”
Jenna smiled, a light blush coating her cheeks.
“Always.”
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taglist: @cartierdreamx  @tundra1029 @red1culous @vorsdany @andsoigotabutterfly @theafterofnevermore @yomomisgay @house-of-lovin @slvt4lanadelrey @thenextdawn @nepobaby08 @dunohilly @somekindofpoet @alexkolax @cinffy23 @pedrosprincess @amberfreemansburntface @myfturn
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junggunz · 3 months
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touch ft. dg | 🔞
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summary: sex won't fix your relationship problems. but you can at least try. cw: fem!bodied reader, SMUT, tiny crumb of plot, established relationship, make up sex, fingering, oral (m and f receiving) , really mild orgasm denial, p in v, creampie, tbh this is pretty tame so i can't imagine i missed anything...but let me know if i did lol. all characters featured are 18+ wc: 3.5k an: once again. killing two birds with one stone. a request + another song from the playlist checked off. heh
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Long days, busy lives. Just can’t find the time…The excuses are the only thing that seems to fill the dead air between you and your boyfriend these days. You two had fallen out of routine, no longer calling each other while he was on tour due to your schedule sapping every last bit of energy out of you. 
Is this where we are now?
So wrapped up in the bustle of your own life, it felt like you didn’t have time to miss your boyfriend. You never imagined the two of you would grow apart like this. Your relationship had survived past tours and you two had no issue keeping the connection alive, but now…you were wondering if he could also feel the way you were falling out of touch with one another. 
On the day DG is finally back, a small part of him hoped that you would text or call him to welcome him home. However, it’s only a fleeting feeling as he’s swarmed by crazed fans waiting for him at the gate once he gets off the plane and the desire to be alone to decompress outweighs everything. By the time you had finally realized he had returned, it was late into the night and you figured he would be sleeping already. Your fingers ghost over the screen of your phone, hovering above the letters of the keyboard to send him a quick text. You type a message, then delete it. Typing out several variations of a ‘welcome back, I missed you’ the words never get to him and that’s when you start to realize, maybe things were really over this time.
Dating an idol wasn’t for the weak. And to make things extra difficult, you were trying to date an idol when your own life leaves little time to yourself—let alone another human with needs of their own— of course your relationship would start to feel hollow after spreading yourself thin just to get a measly hour or so together. During the five minute coffee break you set aside for yourself in the afternoon, these thoughts push themselves to the forefront of your mind, demanding to be heard and acknowledged for the first time in months. 
It’s an internal argument between yourself as you wonder if you're the main culprit in all this. Maybe if you just put in a little more effort, things wouldn’t feel this way. But also, a relationship involves two people; why wasn’t your boyfriend reaching out? You wanna be understanding as you think about how much effort he has to put in to keep his personal life away from the gaze of prying eyes and spectators…but it’s just not making anything better. So, with the last minute you have of your little break, you send DG a quick text telling him that the two of you should set some time aside to see each other; purposely leaving out the fact you intended on breaking up with him.
Just like many of your other ‘dates’, you show up at DG’s penthouse once the two of you were able to find a day where both of you were free. The large space that was his living room feels just borderline claustrophobic after the two of you exchange a strained greeting. It’s like you were strangers again. 
“You wanna end things, don’t you?” DG suddenly asks, causing you to jolt at the mere sound of his words; taken back by how easily he was able to see through you. 
Your jaw trembles as your mouth seems to disconnect from your brain, all possible word combinations to form a response slipping your mind. Unable to meet his eyes, everything about your body language lets him know that his assumption was right. He knew you better than you knew yourself, what a fool you were to think that he wouldn’t notice. And how stupid was he to not say something sooner. Over the last weeks, the emotional distance between the two of you magnified the physical space between the two of you and he didn’t want to believe it. But now that you two were finally in the same room, he didn’t feel any closer to you. 
“Is there anything we can do to fix this?” He questions in a somber voice, reaching out and caressing your arm with a gentle hand. 
“I don’t know.” You answer quietly. 
The response was only a half truth. You knew that you wanted to restore the connection between the two of you; but the issue was not knowing how to fix things. You hear DG hum softly as he mulls over your words, thinking carefully about how to continue this discussion. Studying your body language and the expression you wear, he picks up on the fact that you don’t really want to end things. Knowing your personality, if you were really over it, you would have left by now. Lingering around was never a part of your prerogative. 
“What’s with the rush to end things? We can take all the time we need to work things out if you’re not certain about breaking up.” DG suggests. “I promise to be worth your time.” He adds in with a sly smile when you don’t immediately deny him, pulling you into his embrace as he stares you down.
You seriously can’t think of any reason to reject him right now. In fact, the sensation of being enveloped in his warmth makes you wonder if physical intimacy was a sufficient bandage for the rough patch you were going through— the more difficult issues could be discussed later when you had a clearer idea of what you expected out of this relationship. Right now, make up sex was looking like the best option to restore the connection you had missed. 
Giving in, the two of you scramble down the hall to his bedroom in a record amount of time before DG pins you to the bed and is on top of you while you have your arms loosely draped around his shoulders, kissing on your neck and softly biting at the flesh while his hands venture under your shirt to grope your breasts. A small moan escapes you as he aggressively kneads the supple flesh through the fabric of your bra. He then reaches behind you and you instinctively arch your back so he could unhook your bra and you immediately pull off your shirt; the padded undergarment following after. Now that there was more skin exposed, DG was able to trail his lips from your neck down to your chest. Cupping your breasts in his hands, his mouth latches onto one of your nipples. Tongue flickering over the perky bud, he eagerly tastes your skin before sinking his teeth into it. You gasp in surprise at the slight pain only for DG to comfortingly swirl his tongue around your nipple and soothe the flesh. When his mouth goes to attend to the other breast, you find yourself growing more needy and move ever so slightly so you could grind against the growing bulge in his pants. Both of you moan at the contact before DG leaves your chest and captures your lips in a passionate kiss; his hands going to cup your cheeks. Tentatively, you return his kiss and try to emulate the same emotion but the surge of intimacy after spending so much time apart makes it feel like the first time all over again. Nonetheless when he breaks the kiss to see how you're faring, your cheeks are flushed and you can't help but feel shy. 
“Are you doing okay?” He asks teasingly. When you open your mouth to scold him, you're cut off by DG’s tongue slipping into your mouth and immediately greeting yours. Pleasantly surprised by the notion, you let your tongues tangle with each other; thoroughly tasting one another. During the heated liplock, DG’s hands find their way back to your bare chest and play with your sensitive nipples. Continuing the kiss despite it gradually becoming more sloppy, you keep urgently grinding your lower halves against each other; desperate for more contact. 
DG then sneakily slips his hand past your pants and panties; his fingers pressing against folds then rubbing gingerly. The action makes you aware of just how turned on you were, feeling DG spread your arousal before slipping two of his fingers inside you. The sudden penetration causes you to break the kiss as you toss your head back in pleasure and let out a shaky moan. Feeling the way that your walls pulsed and clenched around his fingers chipped away at DG’s patience. As much as he wanted to rush things, he had something to prove to you. So, as he slowly started to move his fingers in and out you, he watched your expression carefully. You lay beneath him with your cheeks flushed, lips parted softly and eyes closed. Giving a particularly deep thrust and curling his digits slightly, you moaned out loud, your hips lurching towards him. Liking the dramatic response, he repeated the action and started going faster. Much to his enjoyment, you started writhing beneath him and moaning more frequently; your hands going to grip his biceps for some sort of stability. 
“Ah, fuck.” You whimper out breathlessly when you feel DG brush past a particularly sensitive spot. Your eyes briefly flutter open and you catch a glimpse at his face; eyes dark and pooling with lust as he observes you carefully. You accidentally make direct eye contact with DG and immediately get nervous, then look away closing your eyes. But he catches it.
“Look at me again or else I’ll stop.” he murmurs, his actions slowing down. As a knee jerk response, you start bucking your hips against his fingers to get more friction. However, keeping to his word, DG totally halts his actions. Your eyes snap open and you turn to look at DG again. You're greeted by a smug expression on his face and you stare at him impatiently.
“Well?” You question. “I can do this myself if you don't-”
Your words get cut short by DG's lips on yours as his fingers are rapidly thrusting in and out of you again. Moaning into the kiss, your grip on his arms tighten as you feel your walls starting to contract around his fingers. Breaking the kiss to catch your breath, you pant softly, meeting eyes with DG. You both exchange looks of mutual desire before his thumb attends to your clit; giving you even more pleasure and making your legs tremble slightly. As his thumb rubs gentle circles over the small bundle of nerves in tandem with his fingers inside you, you feel your climax building rapidly. Incessantly moaning, you beg DG to keep going. Naturally, he obliged, urging you to finish. 
“I'm gonna cum-” you whimper out, shutting your eyes tight as you brace yourself for the oncoming wave of bliss that was just on the horizon. 
“Cum for me.” DG demands, staring at you intently as he waits for you to come undone under his touch. Those three words falling from his lips was enough for you to send you over the edge, your walls spasming around his fingers; letting pleasure wash all over you. Laying limp against the mattress, trying to collect your thoughts after the intense orgasm, the sound of DG's clothes hitting the floor snaps you out of your daze and you realize that the main event hasn't even started. 
Slowly, you sit up and glance over at him getting undressed. At the sight of DG being totally naked, your jaw falls open slightly and you quickly regain composure before he could see your expression. As soon as DG takes a step closer to rejoin you on the mattress, you crawl over to the edge of the bed and immediately wrap your fingers around the base of his cock while one hand keeps you balanced. 
Your lips slowly encase the tip of cock, your tongue massaging the underside before you gradually take more of his length into your mouth. DG groans lowly at the contact, his hand going to grip your hair and gives a small buck into your mouth. You gag a little at the action but nonetheless, suck him off eagerly. Salivating on his length to a point where it felt excessive, the lewd slurping noises that came from your mouth seemed so loud in the room. DG didn't seem to mind at all, and in fact it had only made him more excited. 
The slickness of your mouth had sent him spiraling into a euphoria he hadn’t felt in what seems like ages. He was intoxicated by the feeling and had gotten so wound up by it, he took you by surprise when he tightened his grip on your hair and started guiding your movements. The look of bliss on DG's face was erotic enough for you; head tilted back with his eyes closed and lips parted. You bob your head along DG's length with his aid, fighting your gag reflex each time he bucks into your mouth. It goes on for what feels like eons and you wonder if you'd even be able to close your mouth when he's done. His cock begins to throb in your mouth and he immediately pulls you off; small strings of saliva lewdly connecting you to him still before they snap. Hair a mess, drool on your face and wearing a slightly dazed look, DG was more than pleased by the sight of you so disheveled. 
Once again, you somehow found yourself laying on the bed with DG on top of you after he had finally removed your pants. Kneeling between your spread legs, you were totally exposed to him. The feelings of shyness you had experienced earlier were returning as DG had just ogled you while his hands gripped your thighs, keeping your legs spread before him. 
“Are you gonna do something!?” You ask in frustration, feeling your body heat up.
“Don't mind me, just saying grace before I eat.” He snickers before lifting your hips from the bed and diving in to lap up the wetness that had accumulated between your legs.
Everything happened so fast, you barely processed what he had said to you before feeling his tongue dragging along your pussy. You let out a shaky sigh at the sensation, instinctively your hands go to grip DG's hair to keep him in place. He buries his face into your snatch, tasting you thoroughly and making you cry out. His tongue is relentless and leaves no part of you untouched. When the pink muscle slips inside of you, you whine at the notion because you know there's something that's much thicker and much longer that you could have inside of you instead. 
You thought you would have been able to hold out longer but each flick of his tongue starts to feel like a tease. It wasn't enough. After getting a preview of his cock, you needed it inside you now.  But alas, DG continued to tease you with his tongue and wouldn't stop until he decided he had enough. His tongue explores your hole, tasting your inner walls and slurping lewdly at what seemed like a never ending stream of your juices. When DG pulls away, you assume he's had his fill but he had just moved on to attack your clit. Due to your sensitivity, you started writhing under his touch. 
“N-no more,” you whimper breathlessly. “Just fuck me.” 
You can feel him smirk against your skin before he finally separates from you; his face glistening with your arousal and a smug expression across his features.
Resituating himself between your legs, he taps the head of his cock against your folds before easing himself inside of you. Both of you moan at the connection; your insides elated about finally being filled to the hilt. You wrap your arms around him and pull him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. For a few moments, DG remains still inside of you as the two of you engage in a messy make out until your essence no longer stained him. 
Once he pulls away, he throws your legs over his shoulders, making you squeak in surprise before he takes no time in aggressively pounding into you. Each thrust has you wanting more; absolutely adoring the way DG perfectly filled you up. He was consistent in his movements and showed no signs of letting up until you were both satisfied. As much as you had wanted to stay quiet and not let DG have the joy of knowing how good he made you feel at the moment, it was no use. Even if you had tried to remain quiet, your body would give you away to him; whether it be your walls spasming around his dick, getting wetter with every action, or your legs shaking. They were all telltale signs to DG that you were completely under his control for the night. 
“God, you feel so good.” DG groans out, giving you an extra hard thrust with every word. You clutch at the sheets desperately as if they were a lifeline because you felt like you were gonna pass out from all the pleasure you had been receiving. Your senses were totally overwhelmed by DG and at this point, he wasn't just filling your holes, he filled your mind too. Besides thinking about what he was doing to you now, you thought about other possible erotic acts the two of you could engage in at another time. 
After the relentlessly hard and intense fucking, DG removes your legs from his shoulders, panting heavily, leaning his forehead against yours while you gazed into each other's eyes. His thrusts had slowed down tremendously but they were still just as deep. The intimacy of this moment had somehow managed to increase the lust you felt by tenfold. You wrapped your arms around DG’s sturdy frame, moving your hips to meet his thrusts. Craving a connection more raw than anything, your hands are gently pushing on his hips to urge him to pull back. 
“Fuck me from behind.” You tell DG almost immediately after he slips out of you and creates some space between you. 
You turn over and get on all fours, sticking your ass out towards DG, urging him to hurry up. Seeing how eager you were, you hear DG chuckle softly before he rams his cock into your waiting hole. Getting a firm grasp on your waist, DG begins thrusting into you at merciless speed. As your throat had become too tired to moan, you could only whimper as you took his cock over and over. 
DG had forced you into an arch, your ass up while your chest was pressed against the mattress. The new angle had DG hitting a spot you didn't know existed within you. Every time the tip of his cock brushed against the spot, you would see stars. 
“H-Harder!” You beg him desperately, trying to move your hips against his but the grip he has on you keeps you mostly stationary. 
Nonetheless, DG’s hips start snapping against yours with such ferocity; you had to prop yourself up on your elbows so you didn't slip away from him. The sound of skin slapping against each other resounded loudly in the room; almost loud enough to cover up the lewd squelches from your wetness every time DG thrusted into you. With the repeated stimulation of your sweet spot, you felt yourself coming undone rapidly. As your orgasm built within you, your walls throbbed around DG’s cock, urging him to finish. Though tempting, he refused to climax until you did first. 
Your thoughts were so jumbled that when you had finally released all over DG’s length, you couldn't find the words to announce it and were only able to let out a long moan. Walls twitching and sensitive, you had quietly prayed DG was nearing his limit and couldn't hold out any longer because you weren't sure how much more you could handle. 
“Fuck, I'm gonna cum.” You hear him breathily mutter behind you. 
His words cause you to tighten up around him once more; shocked by the fact that was enough to trigger a second smaller orgasm within you. Your walls had such a vice grip on him, he was worried he wouldn't be able to pull out in time. 
“Can I cum inside?” DG asks, desperation evident in his tone as he tried to hold off until he got your answer. You had managed to get out a tired ‘yes’ in response before he gave you an impossibly deep thrust and released his load into your pussy.  
The warmth that had now filled you was the final straw for you and you took the tiny bit of energy you had left to pull yourself off his length before laying flat on the bed; closing your eyes and letting sleep overcome you. As cliche as makeup sex tends to be, the moments of passion you share with DG do a mighty fine job of reminding you how much chemistry there was between the two of you. 
And being able to wake up next to him for the first time in ages would make you fall in love all over again.
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Consequences | Three
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Word Count: 5.7k~ | Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, dark, medieval-canon sexism, heavy dub-con/noncon, DD:DNE, mean Aemond, manipulation, abusing power, gore, blood, violence, major angst, oral (m receiving), fingering, oral sex (f receiving), Aemond being a possessive horny weirdo with a power complex, thigh riding, virginity loss, p in v, spit kink, religious guilt
Series Masterlist  
A/N: This was a journey to write. Warnings highlighted, fgs READ THEM
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Just like her heart, the clouds had descended over King’s Landing, covering the sky with a thick blanket of grey.
Sometimes in her quiet moments inside his chambers, she would stare out at the outside, watching the various Lord and Ladies go about their day, wondering what their lives were like as opposed to her own.
These days, especially since Prince Aemond had taken it upon himself to torture her emotionally more regularly, as well as engaging in acts unbefitting of an unmarried man and woman, the little maidservant was more melancholic than ever. A heavy weight swayed in her chest like a pendulum, striking back and forth against her ribs as if her heart were so weighed down with despair, that it ticked out of rhythm.
The other maidservants, with the exception of a select few, whispered behind her back. The common words being ‘whore’, ‘slut’ and all the other denominations of the slurs. She wondered if they knew, could see it on her face. Had she changed in the many weeks since starting her employment? Perhaps it was the way her words had little feeling behind them now, and she had always been shy and quiet, but this was beyond shyness. With everyday she spent inside Aemond’s chambers, hair down from their confines and serving him with her mouth and various other ways, a little piece of her was taken. And she feared that if it continued, there may be nothing left.
That morning, she sent the neighbour the additional copper coins she’d requested, albeit begrudgingly, fearing that the next letter would just be asking for more. Simply because she could.
She missed her brother and sister. She wanted to go home. Be a child again. Perhaps meet a man and talk idly and innocently about marriage, and where to put their home, how many children they would have together.
The dream was a nice one. But the more time she spent within the stone walls of the Keep, the more blurry and further away it seemed to become. It was like being in a small room, surrounded by people, and they are all too close, and the music just seems to get louder and louder. Suffocating. Can’t breathe. No room to even expand your chest just a little. It was like being crushed.
This is what she thought about as Aemond’s hand curled into her hair at the root and tugged harshly, using his leverage there to fuck himself into her mouth, imagining it was her tight little cunny instead. The only sounds he emitted were the occasional grunt and ‘fuck’ when he felt himself getting close. She had learned by now that the best way of making it more bearable was to relax her mouth, and just allow him to guide the pace himself.
“Fuck” he hissed as he fucked her mouth faster, chasing his climax that he was just on the precipice of. She shut her eyes, expecting the flood of warm spend to hit the back of her throat. And a few moments later it came and he’d pressed his hips hard against her lips, feeling his cock twitch within as he came. She inhaled through her nose, as he’d told her to do the first time and she could smell the heady, lusty scent of his flesh and the smattering of hair tickled her face when he’d pressed flush against her.
He pulled his softening cock out her mouth slowly and used his thumb to wipe the tear away from her cheek, before softly swatting her cheek, almost in praise. It was not the emotions inside that made her tearful, it was the force of which he used her that made them fall, and how hard his member hit the back of her throat.
Aemond sighed contently, his hand curling around her throat but not squeezing, he just wanted to feel her swallow. Once she did, he swatted her cheek softly again. It was almost affectionate.
Almost.
In the corner of her eye, she heard Aemond sighing as he pulled his breeches back over his hips. She did not spare him a glance as he did and slowly began braiding her hair once again to go about her daily duties, otherwise people would talk.
Whore.
Slut.
She could still feel his spend on her mouth, the residue it left behind, the saltiness and muskiness of it. It smelled of sex and arousal, making the room feel hotter than it actually was. Her jaw ached from having Aemond’s member inside her mouth all morning. He’d been relentless in his desire to constantly be seated within her mouth, but she was at least thankful it was only that, and not another part of her.
Although she knew it was only a matter of time before he would want that as well.
“Leave” he said simply. And once she had her braids all set she obeyed without another word, not meeting his eye. She used her fingers to wipe the outline of her mouth, trying to get rid of the taste of his spend that lingered there.
The maidservants were beside themselves, busy with preparing for the arrival of Princess Rhaenyra, her husband Prince Daemon as well as her small army of children. Hedi was instructing the various staff to their stations, ever the leader. Freiya briefly made eye-contact with the little maidservant, but her expression was different. That usual playfulness in her young face was gone, replaced with a look that wrinkled with judgement. It filled her heart with dread that someone she thought could be a friend was now judging her.
Whore.
Slut.
“You are on wine duty tonight” Hedi said with a smile, her eyes dragging both concerned and suspiciously over her face. Since Hedi had found her crying in the hallway a few nights ago, she’d been overly-attentive, so much so that it was difficult sometimes to avoid her.
“I am to attend to the table?” she asks nervously. Hedi nodded,
“Shortage of staff, my lovely. I know it will be nerve-wracking but I have every faith in you” Hedi gives an encouraging smile in response. But the smile isn’t returned. Instead she is to imagine what it will be like to see him. Outside his chambers. It almost makes her want to vomit.
The next few hours are a blur of preparations for the large table for supper, at the request of King Viserys. Everyone felt it, the tension in the air. With the arrival of Princess Rhaenyra came the conflict of the past, and no doubt there would be plenty of heated words exchanged this evening.
She’d worked to get a few barrels of wine from the cellar to the main floor, filling various decanters with the bitter, red liquid in preparation of their supper. Her arms were tired from bringing up the barrels, sleeves turned up, but she quickly bought them back down to appear presentable once she heard the shuffled footsteps of multiple figures entering the main hall.
She steadied her breath, making sure she looked presentable and with two decanters of wine in her hand, albeit shaking, she came out to the main hall. The table was laid with place settings, goblets, plates and candles for lighting. If not for the latter, it would be terribly dark, and it all felt extremely close, uncomfortably so.
She placed one at the side of the room, going around the table with the other to fill up the goblets. At the moment, only half of the seats were filled and she noted that Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra were already seated. And the two blonde Princes were talking idly with one another on one side. She dared not look up, scared that if she did, he would already be looking at her. Perhaps he’d be confused that she was here. Or perhaps he was thinking of all the things he might do.
For a moment, Aegon followed Aemond’s line of sight. She floated around, filling the goblets with wine like a ghost, undetected, with the exception of the two Princes. Aemond gave Aegon a look that she did not see.
When the other figures began to sit down in their spots, she walked quickly to her station, in the opposite direction to Aemond luckily and stood, trying to calm her breath, eyes glued to the floor. Her curiosity could not be contained when the rest of the family, such as Prince Daemon, Prince Jacaerys and Lucerys entered and her eyes dragged up, having never seen them before. Landing lastly on Aemond, who was already deeply staring at her with such a look in his eye that it stole her breath.
He looked stressed, uncomfortable but most of all, angry.
She watched as his eye flit from her to the curly-haired brunet at the other end of the table, the muscle in his jaw clenching. The entire evening was stressful and luckily with the tension of the room, she was not called upon very often to refill their goblets, so she simply stood, eyes downcast and pretended she wasn’t listening.
Eventually though, as the fight broke out, she was ushered out of the room by Hedi, who had come out knowing she was attending to the main feast. The little maidservant gave Aemond a brief, afraid look, one he met with his own eye, with a level of disdain as Prince Daemon approached to break up the tension. Her heart had shuddered at the look he gave her. As if he’d singled her out, felt all the rage and anger in his body build up, wanting to unleash it on someone. Someone who didn’t matter.
Her.
“Seven Hells, I knew something would happen but never this” Hedi huffed as she gathered all the maidservants, “back to your normal duties, I shall find you all if I need you”
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She couldn’t possibly have said how much time had passed since the feast. But what she knew was that she felt a certain dread inside, anticipating something. She didn’t shake, or tremble, but she had known she was afraid. Of what, there was no need to say out loud. So instead of focussing too much on it, she busies herself with various tasks, such as lighting all the candles in the now dark chambers. Her hair, as per his request, fell over her shoulders in waves, swaying softly in the idle draught.
Aemond had fire in his blood during the entire walk back to his chambers, fists clenched in pure rage. He remembered the way that little bastard had laughed at him. Remembered the way the other bastard had struck his face, albeit with little effect, but it had still irked him that he’d touched him in any case. And most of all, he’d remembered the look Daemon had given him. How the Rogue Prince had stared him down, an amused look on his face. How Aemond had been forced to stand down.
He felt humiliated. Powerless. Like that night so many years ago all over again.
He never wanted to feel like that again, but he did.
The doors to his chambers opened so quietly and shut so softly, she didn’t even realise he had entered. He stood at the door, watching as she lit the rest of the candles, tiptoed on a stool.
It was only when Aemond began to unbuckle his doublet that the clinking of silver urged her to turn around. She scrambled to her feet, curtsied and straightened her back.
“You grace” she said softly.
They met eyes, his were still as they raked over her and hers were darting across his face, trying to figure out what he might be thinking. Usually, he would be pensive, but there would be clear anger on his face and in his body language. But this night, where she had seen him visibly distressed at the feast, he was eerily calm, movements precise as all his buckles had been undone. And she wasn’t sure which side of him she preferred. She knew what to expect before, but now, she couldn’t predict what he might do.
He let his arms fall when his doublet was unbuckled, still looking at her. He motioned with his head for her to come to him. To undress him.
She had never done that before. He had always been clothed, or at least partly so. She swallowed nervously, but let her small steps go to him, small hands smoothing under the leather doublet to shuck it from his shoulders. The only thing underneath was the cotton undershirt, and through it, she could feel his skin, how warm it was. It was as if she was discovering for the first time that, as much of royalty he was, as much a Targaryen, a dragon, he was a human. A living thing that lived and breathed. Somehow her heart beat just that bit faster.
Folding the doublet over the head of a chair, she moved with scattered breath to unlace his breeches. Aemond felt himself become aroused merely at the thought of her hands on him, but his hand came to hers to push them away.
It was clear he'd changed his mind and did not want her to undress him after all. Perhaps the motions were too intimate. Foreign.
“Wine” he instructed simply.
She was more than happy to oblige instead of undressing him completely. So she turned around and filled a goblet of wine, the only sound in the chambers was the rush of wine to the cup and the muffled sound of clothing being dropped to the floor, and then the soft thump of a mattress.
When she turned back, filled goblet in hand, Aemond had rid himself of his breeches and undershirt, now entirely bare as he sat on the end of his bed. Even his eyepatch was off. Aemond wordlessly outstretched his hand to take the goblet and finished the bitter, red liquid within in a single gulp, licking the remnants of his lips a moment after, his eye fixed on her.
Her eyes were downcast, tracing the patterns of the floor. Of course, she had seen his most intimate areas, he had done the most intimate things to her. But seeing him completely naked was something else entirely and she felt her entire body become hot, uncomfortably so. Aemond’s jaw twitched in annoyance, dropping the silver goblet to the floor which made a shrill noise that made her jump.
“Look at me”
His eye was brimmed with fury. And it terrified her. He was so calm.
“Are you frightened of me” he asks coldly.
Her hands clasp around one another tightly.
“No, your grace” she says, her voice small, “Rather, I am afraid of what you will do to me”
Her honesty shocks both of them equally and she internally scolds herself that the words came tumbling from her mouth as quickly and thoughtlessly as they did. Perhaps she should not have said it. He did say before that he 'would have her fear if he could have nothing else'; she'd had nightmares about those words since.
Aemond stays eerily still. Processing her response.
"Take off your dress"
Her nerves were struck, and her eyes that were previously fixed on his were still there. Her lips parted in shock. She had never been bare before anyone before, much less before a man. Before a prince.
He could see her clasp her hands tightly, fingernails digging into her skin.
She considered saying no. For a split second.
But then she'd remembered what he said.
'Do you like this job, sweet girl. You will do as I say if you wish to keep it'
How he'd threatened to let her go. What would happen if she did say no.
Slowly her hands came to her apron, pulling the string and letting the fabric pool at her front. Aemond's eye watched intently, as if it were a show he had to be quiet for. Her apron folded on a chair, she took a breath and began unbuttoning from her collar, each one that came showed more and more of her chest, smooth and flushed pink with embarrassment.
Pretending to be preoccupied with her undress, she doesn't want to look up, but her eyes catch the smattering of hair that leads down to his hips, where she sees his slow, languid pumps of his cock. The angry head of his cock poking through his fingers with every slow thrust of his fist, a small, breathy sigh escapes him at the contact he's granted himself.
She steels her nerves and opens the front of her dress, pulling the open collar over her shoulders. Once the fabric is over the curve, she lightly lets go and the fabric falls to the floor, at her feet, the slight chill of his chambers hitting her now naked body. Her nipples perk up hard from both the temperature and the slight friction of her dress.
Aemond stops his movements as soon as the dress wafts against the floor, his eye going from her neck to her feet and back again, settling on her face. So much time passes that she wonders if he will say anything else at all and wonders if there's something wrong with how she looks.
Embarrassed, she looks down, crossing one arm across her chest, trying to hide herself. Aemond half sits up, pulling her harshly by her arm towards him and snatching it away from her.
"Do not hide yourself from me"
She swallows nervously at the way he speaks to her, the way his voice is lower now. It was as if he could command her solely with the tone of it. He could feel her trembling slightly, but his hand remained around her tight, no doubt leaving a mark. Touching her now, her bare form right in front of him completely for the taking, he can feel himself painfully hard. She is his, completely and entirely his.
He loves that stupid, doe-eyed expression she gets on her face whenever he’s making her do something. Loves the way her lips part, as if she’s going to complain or tell him to stop, but knows she has no authority to do it. He is much larger, stronger than her. What could she possibly do to shake him up.
Nothing.
He pulls her to his lap, letting her legs straddle his broad, muscled thigh, his breath tickling her bare breasts, making the skin around her nipples erupt with gooseflesh. He can feel the warmth of her cunt against his skin, even though there is no contact. She’d be so warm around him. Tight. His mind almost doesn’t work thinking about it. What will happen once he’s inside her. Would it feel like the clearest, purest paradise? Or would it spur on the darkest parts of him, pulling him back into that deep, ancient place that men go to when they see blood for the first time?
“Bring yourself to peak”
Her chest is tight.
Say no.
Tell him no.
He pulls her hips down, so that she sits on his thigh and he outright groans at the feeling of her warmth on him, wet and hot. His thumbs press almost painfully into her hip bones, shuffling her back and forth. Again…and again…
Say no.
She can’t bring herself to utter the words, even though his touch is bruising and the pain is there, the pleasure of her bundle of nerves rutting against his thigh is starting to cloud it.
This is wrong.
But who is she to say no.
She is nobody.
History would not remember her.
Just try and enjoy it.
Her breaths became more hurried the longer he guided her against his leg and she hated the fact it gave her pleasure, shooting warm sparks inside her belly at the friction. One of his hands comes to her front, pressing against her clit to give additional pressure, drawing lazy circles with the aid of her slick, which somewhat betrayed how she felt inside.
“That’s it…” he whispered, his face close to her breasts.
Aemond leaned forward, knowing that now she would not stop and his other hand massaged her breasts in his palm, moulding the flesh harshly. They felt better than he’d imagined they would, a perfect fit for his hold. And he’d heard the way her breath hitched when he brushed over her rosy bud, still rutting her cunt against his thigh like a bitch in heat. It almost made him laugh. His sweet girl, fucking herself on his leg like a whore.
He hummed as his tongue came to massage her other nipple, giving it the attention he felt it deserved, the vibrations rumbling in her chest. He sucked and grazed his teeth against it, and she whimpered, in pain or pleasure he didn’t care much.
“Touch me, sweet girl” he ordered, bringing her hand to his erection standing proud against his taut stomach. Her small hand wrapped around him but could barely encircle it, stroking his length in tandem with the fucking of herself against his leg, in the same languid rhythm. He kissed her breasts, thinking he could live in this moment forever with them against his face. He groaned against her as her hands squeezed the tip every time she thrust her hand against his cock, focussing his pleasure on that sensitive spot.
He could feel her legs trembling and the warmth of her slick against his leg. She was close and he knew it. He wanted her to peak at least once before he laid claim to her. Dragging her nipple through his teeth as he pulled back, she kept her pace stroking his cock and almost outright  moaned when he moved his leg to assist the faster rhythm.
“Give it to me” he whispered to her.
He reached up and wrapped his fingers around her neck, not applying pressure to the front as such, but rather to the sides to keep her there. Against her will, she lets out a quiet moan at the constriction, the coil in her belly tightening unbearably so. And it only takes one squeeze, one movement of his leg against her for her to completely fall apart. Her limbs briefly go numb, warmth flooding them a moment later, her lips parted in a silent scream as her climax completely obliterates her. He keeps the pace with his leg the entire time, prolonging the soft tingle of arousal.
Aemond lets his grip go ever so slightly, hearing the way she sucks in a breath, clarity engulfing her mind once again. Her breasts move softly with the force of her breathing, her heart beating quickly and he admires her like this for a moment, smirking and swatting her cheek softly, praising her.
“Good girl” he coos.
She barely has time to open her eyes to look at him, to process it, before he throws her to the mattress. The sheets are soft against her front, softer than any bedsheets she’s ever slept on, but there’s not a moment to appreciate it when she feels Aemond’s hand thread through her hair at her nape, dragging to her crown to grip. She gasps as he yanks her hair up, his other hand grabbing her face tightly, forcing her mouth open.
“You are mine. Understood?” he growls lowly in her ear, setting her survival instincts on edge.
She nods, unable to steel herself to say no. Not when he has her like this, his broad body looming over her back, fingers grabbing her harshly. His words right now upset her more than they should.
She is his.
But he will never be hers.
She has no right to that and never will.
“Open” he grips her jaw tighter and when she obeys, eyes softly shut, still recovering from the warmth of her peak, she feels his warm saliva land on her tongue. It sends a bolt of humiliation through her, one that settles in between her legs now that she can feel his hardness against her backside, hot and heavy. She mewls at the feeling, which makes him smirk.
“Mine”
His hand keeps hold of her hair, shoving the side of her face into the sheets as his other trails down her spine, tracing the feminine dimples at the top of her buttocks, perfect for his thumbs to rest in once he fucks her. He thinks she looks so perfect, small against him, but he would never tell her that. She whimpers in something akin to pain as he grips her buttock hard, smirking as he smacks it, leaving a pink mark behind. He’d love to mark her. Every single fucking bit of her. Maiden or not. He didn’t seem to care.
“Be a good girl and stay still for me”
She feels the hot whips of panic at her neck when Aemond knees her legs apart and he rests between them, even more so when he runs the head of his cock through her folds, gathering the wetness there. The room smells of sex already and his hand tightens in her hair.
This is it, she thinks.
And she can’t help but begin to cry, her tears wetten the sheets and a quiet sob muffled into the fabric. How would she find a husband now…now she had been tainted. And that was the only thing on her mind.
Aemond pushes the head of his cock inside her, the head disappearing between her folds and moaning outright at the immediate tightness as she tenses around him at the foreign feeling, trying to pull her hips away. It hurts too much. It stings. But it doesn’t seem like he cares.
“Fuck…” Aemond hisses, ever-so-slightly pushing further in but pausing when he hears her quiet whimpering, “Be quiet”
His voice is forceful, deep, primal. Like if she didn’t obey, he might just snap.
Her hands fist the bedsheets, face hot as well as her tears. She holds so much in that it’s borderline painful to do just that. He hadn’t made her peak before to make it easier for her. He’d done it to make it easier for him. So she would complain less.
One hand on her hip and gripping tightly, he pushes all the way in, until he can no longer, his chest flush with her skin. He tips his head back at the feeling of her cunt squeezing him so tightly, so much so he felt as if he could climax right there and then, the head of his cock kissing her cervix. He did not look up to her face as he began moving his hips almost instantly, sliding all the way out of her, only to slam back inside. All she gave was one quiet whimper.
It was a strange feeling, like no other, to be filled like this. She felt every bit of his member, the veins, the shape of him inside and even his warm stones hitting her when he thrusted quickly. The sounds of the room were quiet, only the fire and the sound of hot, moist flesh hitting again and again.
She felt like she disappeared somewhat, the only movement was his hips against her backside and thus her body with it. There was no pleasure tightening in her gut. All of this…was for his own means.
“Those fucking bastards…laughing at me-fuck” he hissed, thrusting into her tight, hot cunt, the blood of her maidenhead streaking his length sent a jolt of excitement up his spine, “not a fucking boy anymore-fucking cunts” he punctuated this words with a particularly hard thrust, one he knew would hurt.
He pulled her head up slightly by her hair, seeing her tear-stained face.
“Tell me who I am” he hissed, bringing her back to his chest, moving his hand to the front of her neck. And whereas previously he had been somewhat soft, this time he squeezed tightly, her breathy moan becoming caught in the in-between.
“Pr-ince Aem-ond” she replied, struggling against the harsh grip of his fingers on her neck, coupled with his devastating thrusts up into her, which never let up their pace.
He shook her briefly, “I am Aemond fucking Targaryen, you little cunt”
He was like a man possessed. Like not a man at all.
Inside, there was deep rooted humiliation. A search for some control that Aemond did not have. He wanted it. Gods he wanted it so badly. And if this is what it took to have it. So be it.
He didn’t understand it. This was meant to be an outlet, but he was just becoming angrier and angrier. Pushing away those thoughts meant they rounded back even faster and harder and he thought that perhaps the harder he fucked the little maidservant, the easier it would be to push him down.
The old version of him.
The scared, maimed child. Eye aching in agony.
“Aemond Targaryen…” he grunted as he continued to pound his cock into her, savouring the way her sex sounded and the way he slick was wetting his pubic bone.
He flipped her over, finally being able to see her face. Her cheeks were pink and glistening from her tears, her chest is dotted with flushed skin from the hot air in the room. Her eyes were wet and it should have done something to him, should have told him that this was wrong. But it didn’t.
He hooked his hands under her thighs and pulled her towards him, plunging mercilessly back inside with a strangled moan. He loved the way her walls quivered around him, squeezing him. And his hands went to the inside of her thighs, smiling at seeing the faintest amount of blood mixed with her essence. His thumb smeared the rich liquid over her skin, sinking into the lines of his fingers.
His pure little maidservant.
All his.
Ruined for anyone else.
"You should be fucking grateful, whining fucking peasant" he spat, delivering another harsh thrust which made her half cry and half moan out. He loved seeing her head tipped back, holding back how she really felt. He knew he made her feel good. The little slut just didn't want to admit it.
"I know you like this. Fucking cock tease" he leans down right to her face, his sapphire eye blazing with mockery and a sick sense of fulfillment, "Know you love it when your Prince fucks you"
He squeezed her breast painfully, making her crack her bleary eyes open to look at him.
Should she be grateful?
For this?
It didn't feel like it.
He dragged her legs up onto his knees, hitting a new spot inside, a rough patch he'd found with his fingers last time. If it's possible, she squeezes around him tighter, a soft moan tumbling out her mouth.
"You were made for me to fuck you…sweet girl…all mine…" he said it almost to himself, bullying the newly found rough patch, the one that made that coil within tighten painfully.
"You're going to fucking take my seed, understood…?" he asks breathlessly, feeling his own climax approach quickly. Too fast for his liking.
"No…please…" she whimpered softly, pushing against his chest weakly. But the prince simply grinned and pushed her arms away, pinning them down with one of his hands.
"Shut up and fucking take it"
His other hand came to her clit, rubbing furiously, insistent on making her peak at the same time as him and her face contorted in painful pleasure. It was all too much. She could feel how ruined she was. How ruined she would be. The mind was at odds with itself. There was guilt but also pleasure.
Aemond leaned down, his head in the crook of her neck, hips slapping against hers sloppily. He whispered and she was sure she wasn't meant to hear it. But she did.
"Come on, give it to me-please-I fucking need this" he whispered, so quietly. It was like he was pleading. And for a moment the tone of it caught her off guard, it was so soft and gentle sounding.
His finger pressed harshly, speed ever increasing and she felt her body spasm and tremble around him. He whispered praises into her ear that she was meant to hear. All while his cock relentlessly punished her still, rising out her climax with more of the delicious drag of his cock against her sensitive walls.
It cannot be.
She thought she heard the voice inside her head. Had it been the Mother? Her mother? Or had it been her thoughts? Had she said it out loud?
She felt her resolve, her grasp on herself, slipping away.
Aemond came with a shuddered groan, a moan that came in waves of breath against her neck, as if he'd never done anything so exerting in his life. She stayed utterly still, feeling the warmth of his seed paint her walls.
No…she thought.
It cannot be.
There was that voice again. It wasn't hers.
Silent tears began to roll down her face as Aemond remained there, seated within her, keeping his seed in her. His body was steady on his elbows, his hair tickling her hot, sweaty skin.
She couldn't help but whimper as he rose in one swift motion and pulled himself out of her, standing by the end of the bed and watching as his spend leaked out of her, pulling his breeches back over his softening cock.
She swallowed the lump in her throat as she also felt it, felt the wetness of the sheets beneath her, staring up at the canopy. The room filled with silence.
Aemond pulled his doublet back on hastily, making for the door.
"Be gone when I get back" he ordered, his tone voice of passion of any kind. But she could tell he was still out of breath. He was gone a second later.
She didn't reply. Couldn't.
She wondered where he'd be going so late. He'd never been the one to leave. He'd always ordered her to. But it seemed like she was unable to move.
It felt empty, inside.
Tomorrow she planned to go to the Sept, to pray. To hope.
"Forgive me…" she whispered.
Although she did not know who she was asking.
There was nobody but the voice, which sounded so close as if it were inside her ear.
It cannot be.
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