scuddisher

[scuddisher]

only a prompt if you're interest but that gifset of mitch wiggling around in a booth is making me think of mitch getting a blowjob under the table

Under the Table

Mitch Keller x f!reader

Summary: Mitch is taking far too long to close up the bar for the evening, so you let him know how just how impatient you are to head home.

Word Count: 1.3k

Rating: 18+ EXPLICIT

Content: NSFW, smut, blowjob, allusion to oral sex (f!receiving) and unprotected p in v

Soft, muted music plays quietly over the bar speakers as another busy evening comes to a close. After locking the front door, you untie the knot at the back of your apron and toss it over a chair before striding over to where Mitch is seated at a table, a pen cap nestled between his teeth as he writes down next week’s supply order in a notebook. 

You flick the bill of his cap as you’re walking past him, but his arm shoots out and wraps around your waist, stopping you in your tracks. He pulls you closer to him, and the lip of the table presses against you as he glances up at you with a small smile on his face, fingers still lingering against your hip. 

Thumbing at the waistband of your jeans, he taps the lined sheet of paper with his pen and says, “I’ll be done with this in ten minutes or so, then we can head out.”

You raise an eyebrow, knowing damn well that’s a lie. “Only ten minutes?”

“I promise, darlin’,” he winks, squeezing your backside for good measure. 

When twenty minutes have passed and Mitch has yet to move, eyes intently trained on the ancient calculator sitting in front of him as his fingers hover over the buttons, you take matters into your own hands, quietly approaching him and dropping to the floor under the guise that you’re picking something up. 

“What’re you doin’?” he drawls as he realizes you’ve crawled underneath the table.

“Keeping busy,” you answer, reaching up and placing a hand on his knee.

You hear the hitch in Mitch’s breath as you trail your fingers up the inside of his thigh, and he chuckles, “Think we’ve got a bed for this, honey. Or somewhere in the house, at least.”

Letting out a huff of air, you cup Mitch’s dick through his jeans, and he groans quietly as you retort, “Mitch Keller, you’ve fucked me on top of just about every surface in this godforsaken building. Including the pool table.”

“Floor’s damn dirty though,” he remarks, though you don’t miss the way he slowly spreads his thighs further apart and slides forward slightly in his chair as you run a finger along the edge of his belt buckle.

“You just keep working on those numbers,” you murmur, undoing his belt and working open the button and zipper of his jeans. 

A sound of amused disbelief leaves Mitch’s mouth when you begin to inch your fingers along the waistband of his boxers—like he could even fathom attempting to concentrate on anything but the feeling of your hand dipping inside of the material and wrapping around his hard shaft. 

Mitch shifts his hips when you pull his dick out and run your thumb over the precum leaking from the tip, as if he has to physically restrain himself from the urge to pull you into his lap. And although the mere idea of him bunching up your dress before he plunges his length inside of your dripping cunt has you clenching your thighs together, you’re too eager to get his flushed, throbbing cock inside of your mouth right now. 

His cum will be dripping down your thighs before you get home anyway, one way or another. You’ll likely make it as far as the parking lot before he’s fucking you senseless in the front seat of his beat up old truck, his large hands firmly planted on your hips as you ride him, bouncing in his lap hard enough that the frame of the vehicle will be creaking in protest. 

And when you get home, he’ll take advantage of your aforementioned bed with his face buried between your legs, lapping at your sensitive, quivering cunt until you’ve made a proper mess of his beard and mustache. 

But right now, you want nothing more than to suck Mitch’s dick, and your mouth’s watering at the thought of taking his generous length into the wet heat of your throat. 

You lean forward to lap at the tip of his cock, where a fresh bead of precum has formed, and you hear the sound of a pen clattering onto the surface of the table above you. Smirking, you spit into your palm, your hand easily sliding over his length as you begin to languidly stroke it. The table slides backward slightly when Mitch drops his elbows down, leaning heavily against it while your tongue laps broad strokes up and down the sides of his shaft. 

Mitch moans when you begin to play with his balls while you continue to make a sloppy mess of his dick with your saliva, one hand tightly gripping the edge of the table. When you finally wrap your lips around the head of his cock, his hips twitch involuntarily, and you swirl your tongue around it, causing him to rock upward even harder.

A satisfied sound leaves you at the feeling of Mitch shoving his cock even deeper down your throat, and he groans at the vibration that flutters along his length when you do so. 

“Oh fuck, baby,” Mitch grunts, bringing one hand down to rest against your head.

Drool begins to run down your chin as you bob up and down on his length, taking him so far into your mouth that the coarse hairs at the base of his dick brush against the tip of your nose. Encouraged by the way his fingers caress the curve of your jaw and slide over the side of your neck, the rings on his fingers cool against your skin, you begin to suck his cock with fervor, your slick, parted lips firmly latched around him.

You nearly choke at the feeling of his shaft butting up against the back of your throat when he bucks his hips—you know what he wants.

His chest heaves slightly when you pull off of him, a line of spit running from your bottom lip to the tip of his cock. Mitch shivers when you run a tight fist down his slippery length as you press a kiss to his inner thigh, nipping at his skin.

“You wanna fuck my mouth, Mitch?” you ask.

Mitch lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a laugh and moan. “You fuckin’ know I do, sweetheart.”

With his feet planted firmly on the floor, he uses one hand to steady himself against the table as he grips the back of your head with the other while you slide your swollen lips over his cock once more. You glance up at him to find him staring down at you, pupils blown wide with lust, and he steadily begins to push his length further inside.

“Takin’ me so fuckin’ good,” he murmurs as he pulls back a bit, only to roughly plunge back in, causing you to gag slightly. 

He doesn’t pause or slow down, because he knows you love this part. 

He knows you love when he fucks your mouth like this—hard and fast while you’re choking on his cock, tears running down the side of your face and drool on your chin. You can take it. He knows you can.

It’s why he’s forcing your head down onto his shaft while you reach one hand under your dress to feel the arousal pooling between your legs, both of you moaning in unison as he repeatedly sinks as deep into your mouth as he possibly can.

And as his hips begin to stutter, you hold fast while his climax washes over him, swallowing down each rope of cum that he spills down your throat. When you release his spent shaft, cum dribbles along your bottom lip, and Mitch reaches out, swiping it off with his thumb and sliding the digit into your mouth for you to lick it off. 

“Ready to go home now?” you ask, smiling as you lean your head against his thigh.

Mitch goes to stand, swiftly pulling you up from the floor and brushing off the front of your dress. He runs a finger under your chin, leaning in to kiss you gently.

Briefly glancing back down at the unfinished work left on the table beside you, his eyes drift back to yours, and he darts his tongue out, licking his lips as he grins. "You drive a hard bargain, honey. Let's go."

—

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» MITCH KELLER MASTERLIST

» GARRETT HEDLUND MASTERLIST

[scuddisher]

Asking Mitch Keller about his bullriding days turns into either him giving you a cock riding lesson or you showing him how good at it you are already

(i love the way you think, nonnie)

Just Like That

Mitch Keller x f!reader

Summary: One thing leads to another during a conversation about Mitch's days on the circuit, and you find yourself straddling his lap as the ex-bull rider gives you the ride of your life.

Word Count: 1.9k

Rating: 18+ EXPLICIT

Content: NSFW, smut, dry humping, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, size kink, cockwarming, praise kink

“Honey, no offense, but you’d get bucked right off.”

You cross your arms with a huff, and Mitch chuckles, mustache twitching as the corners of his lips curve upward in amusement.

Ever since you secured the weekly Sunday night performance spot at Bred 2 Buck—in which you regularly play a laid back acoustic set for the tail end of the weekend’s mellow crowd—you’ve fallen into a quick and easy friendship with the bar’s owner, Mitch Keller. 

Following your set this evening, you had found yourself seated at the bar counter, absorbed in conversation with him about his famed bull riding days. And though you’d brought up the topic at hand partially because you were incredibly curious about his time on the circuit, you also did it for a much more self-serving reason: it gave you the opportunity to experience the way his blue eyes lit up with fondness upon recalling the memories, a boyish grin that left your heart fluttering in your chest tracking its way across his face.

When last call rolled around, your discussion was far from over, as you found yourself hanging on to Mitch’s every word (and each movement of his lips, if you were being honest) as he regaled a particularly harrowing rodeo story. And thus he’d invited you back to his place for the first time, which is how you now find yourself seated in his living room, arguing over your own potential merits as a bull rider.

“I feel like I’d last for a couple of seconds at least,” you protest. “I rode a mechanical bull once.”

“That…definitely ain’t the same thing,” he replies, running a hand over his beard.

Mitch raises an eyebrow when you stand up and stride over to where he’s seated on the couch, reaching out and plucking his hat off of his head, tossing it onto the coffee table behind you.

“Show me what it’s like, then.”

Hoping like hell you haven’t been misreading whatever’s been quietly simmering between the two of you for weeks on end, you climb into Mitch’s lap and straddle his thighs, letting your knees press down into the couch cushion as the skirt of your dress rides upward.

He goes still, clearly not having anticipated this particular turn of events, and his gaze bores into yours for a moment as he waits to see if you’re serious.

When you wiggle for emphasis, he darts his tongue out of his mouth, running it over his teeth as he grins, looking down and shaking his head. “You sure? Think I might be a little out of practice, darlin’. Wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”

You catch the double meaning of his words, and some small part of you preens upon receiving this knowledge—the fact that, although many of the women that waltz into that bar do so with sultry hopes of going home with its handsome owner (something you quickly learned once you started playing there), success clearly hasn’t been on their side.

“Well let’s get you back in the saddle then, cowboy,” you smirk, toying with a lock of hair that’s come loose and fallen across his forehead. 

Bringing his large hands up to tentatively rest across the tops of your thighs, he tilts his head to the side, appraising you. “You got that backwards, ‘cause you’re the one in the saddle tonight.”

He rocks his hips upward just enough to throw you off balance, amusement rumbling in his chest when you pitch forward slightly. 

As you wrap your arms around his neck in an attempt to regain your balance, he tuts, “One hand. And it should be down here.”

Mitch takes one of your hands and places it over his belt, encouraging you to wrap your fingers around the leather. Remembering what constitutes a typical bull rider pose, you raise your left hand and let it hover in the air.

“Like this?”

The tone of his voice drips down your spine like molasses when he drawls, “Yeah, honey. Just like that.”

With his palms face down on either side of him, Mitch leans back and spreads his thighs slightly wider underneath you before he begins to roll his hips once more. His steady gaze remains focused on yours, watching the way you continuously fall out of sync with his movements.

“Move with me,” he instructs.

You heed his words, and as he begins to increase his pace, you fall into a smooth rhythm rocking in the cradle of his hips. But your focus begins to wane as you feel the evidence of his growing erection, the denim of his jeans pressing firmly into the sheer tights covering the wet warmth at the apex of your thighs with each and every thrust.

When Mitch ruts upward particularly hard, an involuntary gasp leaves your lips at the pleasure that rockets down your spine. Unable to stop yourself, you tug hard on his belt as you grind back down against his cock.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, starting to lose his composure.

Bringing his hands up to grasp your hips, he holds you tightly in place as he repeats his last movement, his heated gaze locked on your own. You thread your free hand into his hair, relishing the softness of his long locks for a moment before tugging his head backward as you take your turn chasing the friction of his shaft against your mound.

His mouth falls open slightly when do you so, and between one breath and the next, Mitch’s hands are cupping your face as he surges forward, lips seeking yours out in a hungry, belated kiss. The ache between your thighs begins to throb as his plush lips slide against yours, one hand sliding down to curl around the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your exposed collar bone. 

You let your jaw relax for Mitch when his tongue flirts with the seam of your lips, deepening the kiss, and at the feeling of his hand trailing down to stake claim over your lower back just above the swell of your ass, you desperately arch your body into him. 

“Mitch,” you whimper, panting as he nips at your bottom lip.

“What do you want, honey?” he asks calmly, as if he’s entirely unaware of the way your slick arousal has begun to seep through your underwear, leaving a damp mark where you’ve frantically been rubbing yourself against the front of his jeans.

Fingers skating across his belt buckle, you cup his shaft and squeeze. “I want you to fuck me while you’re showing me how to ride you.”

Mitch smirks, pushing up the skirt of your dress and letting both of his hands encircle the bend between your hips and your thighs, thumbs teasing where your stockings are now sopping wet. He groans appreciatively, reaching out and pinching the material between his fingers.

“Think we’re gonna need to get these off first then.”

“Just rip them, I don’t care,” you whine, too impatient to climb off of him. 

Clearly just as into the idea as you are, Mitch doesn’t hesitate to reach into his back pocket, flipping open his pocket knife. You sit still as he carefully grasps a fistful of the wet nylon, tugging it forward before slicing a hole into it, a fresh gush of arousal leaking into your underwear at the sight. He hooks a finger in your panties, and you shiver as the digit brushes against your folds.

“Hell, you’re so fuckin’ wet, honey,” he rasps, leaning forward to kiss you again while he slips his finger into your entrance.

The tension coiled within your gut squeezes tighter as he leans forward to kiss you languidly, adding a second finger and pumping them both in and out of your needy cunt. He swallows down the breathy moans that leave your lips, mouth moving with yours while you hastily reach out to take off his belt, tossing it aside before prying open his jeans.

He matches your moans of pleasure with his own when you wrap your fingers around his shaft, though the sounds briefly morph to amusement when you stop kissing him to glance down between the two of you with wide eyes. Your mouth begins to water as you drink in the sight of the long, thick cock in your hands, and your pussy aches with need at the thought of him splitting your tight little cunt open with it. 

Unable to wait any longer, you lift your body and line yourself up with the tip of his cock. Mitch’s fingers press into the sides of your thighs as you hover above him, and he looks up at you with lust-blown eyes while you begin to sink down onto his shaft. 

The living room is filled with a chorus of moans from your lips and his own as his cock slowly disappears into your body, inch by inch. Once his length is fully swallowed into the warmth of your cunt, he lets out a ragged breath, running a hand through his hair.

“You take me so damn good, sweetheart.”

Pleasure shoots down your spine at the praise, stoking the growing fire in your gut. 

Leaning in, you let your lips hover over his as you murmur, “Now show me how a real cowboy rides.”

Mitch’s lips come crashing into yours, and he grabs your hips, pulling you upward as he drags his cock out of your channel teasingly slow, only to slam it right back in. You barely have time to cry out before he does it again, sending a numbing wave of pleasure through your body as he ruthlessly splits your weeping cunt open.

With one hand tangled in his hair and the other gripping at his shoulder, you hold on tightly as Mitch begins to give you the fucking ride of your life, hips snapping up into yours at a brutal pace as he plunges in and out of your fluttering hole, your soaking wet cunt squelching with each pounding thrust. 

Mitch’s cock is so goddamn massive, the steady pressure as he drags it through your inner walls has tears pricking at the corners of your eyes while you writhe in his lap. But it feels so fucking good. You’re never felt so full in your life. 

You’re a moaning, whimpering, cock drunk mess, and he kisses you bruisingly as he reaches up to wipe away a stray tear that’s sliding down your cheek.

“You look fuckin’ beautiful like this,” he murmurs against your lips, voice low and rough.

At that, the pressure building inside of you bursts in a gushing wave of pleasure, and you grab onto Mitch desperately as your limbs tremble with the force of it. Soft, warm praise falls from his mouth as he fucks you through your climax, the words a direct contrast to the way he roughly continues to ravage your sensitive hole.

On the edge of his own orgasm, Mitch goes to lift you off of him, but you remain firmly in place as you plead, "I wanna feel you come inside of me.”

He sucks in a sharp breath at your request, and you cry out when he obliges, driving the full length of his shaft deep into you once more. Fingers digging into your hip bones, Mitch’s cock pulses while he empties himself inside of you, hot ropes of cum painting your inner walls as he fills you with his release. 

You collapse forward, leaning your head against his chest, and Mitch holds you tightly in his arms. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you remain nestled comfortably in his lap, in no rush to move anytime soon—not even when his cock begins to soften in your channel, dribbles of cum leaking out of your sensitive hole. 

—

Comments, reblogs, and/or asks are always appreciated!

» MITCH KELLER MASTERLIST

» GARRETT HEDLUND MASTERLIST

[scuddisher]

꒷꒦꒷ TOM GLYNN-CARNEY MASTERLIST ꒷꒦꒷

DISCLAIMER: all content here is 18+, minors do not interact! do not plagiarize, repost, or��translate any of my works without my permission. do not post my content on other sites, especially claiming them as your own! reblogs and feedback are seriously appreciated <3

[ UPDATED: OCT 22ND | RECENT | RECS | NAVI ]

AEMOND TARGARYEN ☓ HOUSE OF THE DRAGON (2022-)

DRUMMING ALONG THE STONE WALLS. — 18+ | 2024 | drabble | 1k

An idea and a placement of a hand lead to an even longer night for you and Aegon.

© scuddisher — all rights reserved.

[scuddisher]

DRUMMING ALONG THE STONE WALLS.

An idea and a placement of a hand lead to an even longer night for you and Aegon.

RATING — MATURE & EXPLICIT (18+)

PAIRING — prince! aegon x staff! gender-neutral reader

GENRE(S) — drabble, smut

WORD COUNT — 1k

WARNINGS — mature content, takes place right before aegon is king, short-lived cuddling, & mutual-pining.

SMUT WARNINGS — sexual content, soft dom! aegon, spanking, very mild dirty talk, dry-humping, pet names used: darling & sweet thing.

RELEASE DATE — OCT 22ND 2024

AUTHOR’S NOTE — 100% commending @werejustlefttodecay for a) this concept b) aegon brainrot & c) manifesting the fixing of this blog so i can read & write again... kate ily sm

Something you found all too easy was riling up Aegon. Even in the midst of the night, his entire chamber grew cold from the winter air. Aside from the dimly lit fireplace and his bed—where his restless form laid still beside you.

Your head had found his arm, soft breaths on his skin causing chills throughout his body and visibly on his skin.

Although you simply pressed into his mattress weekly to drain him to sleep or distract him from the duties of his soon-to-be claim to the throne, the man couldn't enjoy your warmth any more than he does now.

A soft peck to his arm, and you could see his cheek bones rise with a grin. “Don't get me started again.”

His voice was a tease, tired enough to doze off any second but alert to your motions. It was easy to make him shiver, no matter the time.

You could stare at him too long as he stood before the council and people until a smirk was on his lips. Make him look down and blush at a distance from showing skin even as he trained with his sword. Felt the looks of his brother Aemond and heard his scoffs as Aegon seemed to drift off in thought at the diner table as you stood mere inches from the table and awaited service for the royal family.

But now, skin on skin. That was easy, simplified.

You rose from your resting position to place your chin on his chest, watching his eyes move from the orange, crackling fire to your gaze.

“Hmm?” An innocent response.

“Hmm?” He mocked back, eyes turning darker as his pupils dilated to better see you in the darkness of the room.

“Get you started?” You teased, pressing a kiss to his jawline. “How could I?”

Your lips were soft, leaving small patterns of wetness and warmth as you trailed down his neck. The rumbling in his chest was a vibration of want going through his body until you felt him wiggle beneath the sheets to relieve the touch of you at his lower half where only your leg touched him. His jawline became clearer as he gritted his teeth, the late of the night and soon to be early morning causing his eye sockets to darken from hardly any rest.

It only egged you on more. His tired form practically begging for you to put him to sleep. Easy. It took seconds for you to move above him, to ground yourself above his hardening length and find a comfortable rocking that had him grunting and raising his head. “How would I?”

“You always manage.” His voice was deep and groggy, hands instinctively placing themselves on your waist.

“To rile you up, my prince?” The man seemed like putty below you.

But that was all it took for him to rock up into you while simultaneously flattening his palm in the air and landing a smack to your ass. Your legs seem to widen over him as you straddled his waist, pressing into him with just as much friction as he did. You could feel the sting on your skin below your underwear, the smack hard enough to have your body shaking.

Aegon saw your reaction the second his hand made contact with your skin, the slap echoing in his chamber along the stone walls like a high-pitched drum beat. His smile was from ear to ear, watching your eyes flutter with surprise.

“Huh?” His head fell back into the pillow, white locks strayed about on the satin fabric. “That’ do something to rile you up, dear?”

You were practically speechless, the sensation still sending vibrations up your spine and into your crotch. The man beneath you was too impatient and aware now to be silent, his smart tongue like the ocean water in his mouth at the sight of your silent blush.

“Poor thing…” Aegon, not one for pet names unless they were said in lust or to belittle someone, was enjoying his late treat. “I have to be up so early.”

You could feel the waft of air before the second smack to your ass, lighter than the first but just enough force to make you grind into his cock through the thin fabrics of your underwear. Your wince didn't go unnoticed, nor did his soft moan into the dark air.

“And here you are… keeping your prince wide awake with your sinfulness.”

His lips quivered before his bottom lip was bitten by his front teeth, thin skin turning red from his force. You could see the sweat drip between his breasts down to his abs. The scent of arousal in the room thickened, and before you knew it, a slick spot was staining from your underwear into his.

“A-Aegon.” His name spewed from your lips like a swear word.

Brows furrowing, the next spank at your ass was hard enough to make you whine and hiss. “Ah!”

He had left a handprint, one perfectly felt by his hand as the heat transferred to his palm and made the lines of his hand begin to sweat. Holding the mark on your ass, you ground yourself into him, feeling him twitch and thrust up against you for more friction.

Aegon’s teeth gritted once more, his body lifting until he sat upright and his face was almost against yours.

“Prince.” Stern, wanting, his opposite hand gripped into your hip until that too seemed to bruise.

He was fighting for release, anything he could grasp at was suddenly on the table—but his clutch at your figure and unpredictable grinding up into you had you whining. As you felt his cock twitching again, felt the rush of his seed threading through the fabric of his underwear and adding to your own, the last rise of his hand made you shutter his name. “Prince Aegon!”

Except this time, it was both of his hands on the cheeks of your ass. The pressure had your thighs holding to him, pressing into him as you came and shook in his hold. His press at your ass had you falling into his frame, face finding placement at his shoulder to breathe him in.

“That's more like it, sweet thing.” He chuckled. “Maybe you'll get it right on the first try next time.”

© scuddisher — all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission. do not post my content on other sites, especially claiming them as your own! reblogs and feedback are seriously appreciated <3

[scuddisher]

A Night for Celebration

summary | Gwayne is gifted a special treat by his nephew after the victory at Rook's Rest.

pairing | gwayne hightower x brothel worker!reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! oral (m), oral (f), 69, unprotected sex, aegon cameo, thoughts of incest oop, canon divergence, face sitting

wordcount | 2.5k

note | as promised :) this took too long to finish lol but we're finally powering thru the writer's block thank yewww god

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

(divider by @starzyyy1)

The streets of Flea Bottom were always a ruckus, busied by street performers, lewd acts around the corner, and the shadows that held its darkest secrets. Tonight, a company of shining knights made their way down the streets. The sight of them would be enough to instill fear and caution within the smallfolk, but this is not that kind of night. They were merry, inebriated by the high of their recent victory in battle and some strong ale. Among them, the king stood out like a bright star among mortals. 

Though slick with grease and sweat, his silver hair held a stark contrast among the rest, incomparable to even the light blonde tresses of Martin Reyne. The king was in a swell mood, evident by the raucous laughter that echoed through the city's alleyways. This is where he felt best, away from the curious eyes of the court and the brooding, disapproving bunch he called a family. Though he wouldn’t say they were all bland, his uncle Gwayne was the only one with a similar interest. The man knew how to have fun. Aegon liked that.

His mother’s brother was all eager to join in their little night out, desperate to have a night of reprieve after a grueling journey, and an even more brutal battle. He finally had one night away from Criston fucking Cole, who stayed behind of course. All the better for Gwayne.

Aegon led them down the familiar path to the Streets of Silk. The giddying excitement for some women was palpable within the group, who were growing drunker and drunker as they stopped at different taverns. They reached his favored brothel, which was ordered to be emptied for the night. An evening of bliss was the king’s reward for his knights' valiant efforts on the field, at the pleasure of the crown.

They were greeted by a gaggle of whores, all lined up in anticipation as they awaited the men’s arrival. Some were already bare, skin glistening with oil, while others wore different kinds of sheer gowns, if one could even call it that. 

“Here we are, gentlemen. The best part of the night,” the king exclaimed, earning all kinds of hollers and cheers from his men. He was walking quite wobbly now, the edges of his speech slurring. Among the girls, Madame Sylvi emerged, greeting the king with a bow and a respectful smile.

“My king, welcome. It is an honor to be of service during such a great night. I thank you for your continued patronage,” she said. With a sweep of his purple hues down her body, a giggle bubbled from Aegon’s throat, earning a raise of the brow from the madame.

“Ah, Sylvi. You are the best in these streets. ‘Tis really no surprise why even the sharpest of men come crawling back into your embrace, hm?” Aegon quipped, laughing at his own jest. The older woman merely responded with a small nod, biting back her tongue. She held out an arm, presenting her girls to the men’s hungry eyes.

“They are all yours for the night, your grace.”

With a delighted hum, the king stepped forward, assessing each one of them with a devouring gaze. He ran a hand down their figures, testing the softness of their supple flesh against his palm. Some he tweaked their nipples, cupped their mounds to find the best-feeling cunny. He had even pulled one for a kiss, letting out a low moan at the taste of sweet cherry oil swiped across her lips. Pleased, Aegon nodded in approval.

“I will let my brave knights take their pick before me,” he said. “After all, one whore is as good as another.” 

With his statement, the ravenous knights stepped forward, taking their pick of the litter before being dragged off to their corner of the brothel. Gwayne had his eyes on a plump, olive-skinned brunette, Dornish, presumably, but he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Aegon cocked his head towards the madame, who led them down a hall lined by actual rooms, instead of the sheer curtains in the common hall. She stopped at the last door of the hallway, opening it to reveal more awaiting women.

“As you requested, your grace.”

There were only a handful of them, though Gwayne knew they were more… special. His suspicions were confirmed by the pleased look on his nephew’s face, who led him further into the room.

“I thought you deserved something finer, uncle, after your valiant efforts of withstanding months of tolerating Cole on the road. Take it as a treat from me,” Aegon explained. A twin swell of excitement rose in the men’s chests at the women, who looked at them with sensual, siren-like gazes. “Madam’s best performers. There are fresh maidens too if you wish!”

Like what he did in the common hall, Aegon assessed each one with Gwayne by his side. For a moment, the redhead found none particularly appealing, thinking of returning to the dark-haired beauty with kohl-lined eyes, but then he saw you.

The younger followed his uncle’s line of sight, before calling your name with a wave of his ringed hand. You were in a powder blue robe, embroidered with flowers of gold thread. A waft of the scent of roses invaded Gwayne’s senses as you approached, bringing about a tingle in his fingertips. You greeted the men with a curtsy, flashing a small smile. 

Aegon seemed to be approving of his uncle’s choice. “She is one of the best, take it from me. Though I was rather unsure whether you would like her, considering she quite looks like—”

“No, no. She’s perfect,” Gwayne said, waving a hand dismissively while icy blues stayed on you. 

Red hair, brown eyes. Just how he liked them.

With a smile, you took hold of the knight’s hand, leading him out into the hall. Aegon went off with a silver-haired one, an obvious dragonseed. Copper Penny, they called her. 

The private rooms were kept fairly simple, with a wide feather mattress and numerous melting candles lining the space. The lewd murals continued into these walls as well, and in the middle of it all, you.

“It is a pleasure to serve you tonight, my lord,” you said, turning swiftly to face the nobleman. He blinked, previously occupied with staring at the swell of your ass as it swayed with your every step. The apples of his freckled cheeks rose as you smiled at him coquettishly, batting your pretty lashes at him. 

“Do you know who I am, girl?” Gwayne figured to ask, earning a nod from you as you poured a cup of red. He accepted it with a gracious nod, brushing calloused fingertips against your softer ones.

“You are Queen Alicent’s brother. Everyone here knows who you are. In fact, your name has been uttered one too many times ever since the smallfolk have caught a glimpse of you,” you told him, to which Gwayne responded with a curious raise of the brow. Your berry-stained lips widened as you chuckled, “Your arrival has caused quite a ruckus. People have been quite taken by another Hightower passing through our streets, especially one who has fought quite bravely in battle.”

The knight’s spine stood taller in pride at your words, ego successfully stroked. Such skills were well-taught in the secrets of your trade, and you managed to already please him before even disrobing. “And what do you think, girl? Have I managed to stun you?” he asked, vigilantly watching as you shrugged your shoulders.

“I think you are prettier than your sister.” 

Gwayne smirked, a satisfied hum his only response. He downed the rest of his wine in one gulp, evidently eager to make the most of your services. “Was there anything you preferred, my lord?” you asked, equally as keen to spend your evening with such a handsome man. You have pleasured many noble and common men alike, even the king at one point, but only a small few have managed to stir a bubbling excitement in your belly. Gwayne was one of the exceptions, with his prissy noble blood, quick wits, and a smirk that could make anyone’s knees buckle. He was silent for a moment, assessing you with his icy blues. You seemed to preen under his gaze, chest subtly puffing out as he stared at them.

“Undress,” the knight ordered with a flick of his wrist.

You obliged, pulling the clasp on the belt that held your robe together. The sheer fabric fell off your shoulders in a graceful swoop, baring all to the man before you. Your nipples stood erect in their exposing, while a patch of darker red decorated the apex of your thighs. The act of your baring alone had Gwayne already palming the hardening length in his trousers, eager fingers unlacing his breeches to free his cock. Your orbs stared at it unabashedly as he stroked himself, prompting a one-sided, roguish smirk to rise on the Hightower’s lips.

He wasn’t the biggest, nor the thickest, but gods, was it pretty, just like the rest of him. It was nicely flushed at the tip, with a protruding vein running its underside. The base was littered with hairs of a lighter amber, almost translucent under the warm glow of the room. Without his order, you willingly dropped to your knees, replacing his hand with your own. An experimental lick on his cockhead had him sighing, followed by a hearty groan when your lips wrapped around his tip. Your expertise was evident in how you took him with no trouble, not one gag with every inch your lips had covered. You nuzzled your nose into the base of his cock, tickled by the curled strands at his pubic bone. 

Gwayne’s hand merely rested on your occiput, finding no need to guide your pace. He simply threw his head back, relishing in the simple heaven brought about by your mouth. The way you were suckling on his tip, tongue circling the head made his stomach tighten. He was being propelled to his end way too soon for his liking, he had much he wanted to do with you. 

Despite his better wishes, he pulled himself away from your mouth. You made your way to lay on the feather mattress by his order, awaiting what he wanted next. For a second too long, Gwayne merely stared down at you and the delectable morsel that awaited him. He was no stranger to whores, though Oldtown’s spare brothels did not house beauty like yours. His hand descended from your collarbone, running through the valley of your breasts. Your mounds were deliciously supple beneath his roughened palm, nipples pert in attention. His touch trailed along the curve of your waist, before cupping your mound. Slick glistened in between his fingers when he pulled them away, ambrosial on his tongue when he dared a taste. 

Wet like a maiden. Delectable like the finest sweets.

The knight knew the regret that would follow if he denied himself a taste. With no further hesitation, he laid his head above the soft, feather mattress, meeting your puzzled gaze. “Ride my face,” he breathed out, urging you on with a hand on your waist. Your surprise blinks made known this was no common request, but the eager glint in your eye proved you had little complaint. Your thighs found their place in between his head, your dripping cunt in perfect view. 

You shifted your weight to sit, and Gwayne was granted a taste. How sweet you were, irresistibly so. He found himself lapping at you like a man starved, as though your cunny held the water that shall fill him with life. His hands held your thighs tight, dimpling the ample flesh in his calloused touch. Above him, you shifted about, grinding your hips back and forth against his face. You seemed to enjoy this, with your mewls and whines. 

“M-my lord…” you moaned, throwing your head back in delight.

“No, my name,” Gwayne panted. It was only then he realized how breathless he had grown to be, mind hazed by the sweet heat of your cunny. “Say my name.”

“Gwayne… feels heavenly,” you whimpered. 

With a lift of your hips, you switched your position to face the span of the room. The man below you had voiced his confusion, but the familiar warmth of your mouth back on his cock had his eyes rolling back. Your plump arse was a pair of warm cushions over his face, and his large palms had spread them wide to reach his tongue deeper into your cunt. The grinding on his face was in rhythm with the bobbing of your head down his length, driving him positively mad. The scriptures’ idea of the heavens may be paradise to any mortal man, but it would not hold the same bliss he was swimming in now. 

You had broken first. Warm, pearly spend gushed out of your slit and directly onto his tongue. You had moaned around his length, before pulling out to lean your head against his thigh with a cry. Erratic hips spasmed above Gwayne, and he thought it a shame he was not spared the sight of your face as you met your end. It was no matter, he had more than enough time with you tonight. You were shifted to lay on your stomach, rutting into you from behind. Your red tresses were soft in his hold, thick hair gathered into his palm. It was an interesting sight, with you like this it almost was like…

No. He couldn’t think that way.

He flipped you over onto your back instead, amber waves framing your face like a pile of autumn leaves on the forest floor. The knight was quick to slip into your walls, giving you barely a second of reprieve before setting an animalistic pace from the start. A chorus of ‘ah, ah, ah’s echoed off the room’s thin walls, coupled with the wet sound of skin slapping against skin. There was no doubt the Hightower lord had had his time tumbling in the sheets, reducing a seasoned whore like you moaning like a fresh maiden beneath him. His ego swelled tremendously at the thought. Your cunt was one of the best he’s ever had, and the sight of your scrunched face dangling over the edge of the bed as you came again was an image he was sure to envision when he’s back in Oldtown, fisting his cock under his sheets in the dead of night. 

He was close. Gwayne was sure this release would wash him over like the monstrous waves over the Bay during a storm, the kind that made your abdomen cramp from its sheer intensity. With a sure thrust, then another, the knight pulled his cock to stroke it furiously. His seed was spurted in multiple sprays, landing as far as your chin with the pearly spend.

The redhead plopped down beside you, mind lost in the heady daze of the aftermath. You both stared at the mural overhead, some kind of depiction of a man’s tongue buried into a woman’s arse. Huh. Perhaps he could try that with you next time.

He could feel himself sink further into the plush mattress, the exhaustion of their excursion creeping up into the tendrils of his meat. Breathless, he turned to you, noting how you were equally boneless as he.

“How would you like to come to Oldtown?”

[scuddisher]

𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐤 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 [𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] [𝐰𝐜: 𝟓𝟎𝟎]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝟏𝟖+, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 (𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐲).

𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬: 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

A rumor was a rumor but within its words was a sliver of truth: Aemond Targaryen was enamored with the offerings of someone located on the Silk Streets.

Slipping away under the cover of night led many to whisper yet the only thing the white-haired Prince heard was praise.

Aemond could do all to succumb, falling to his knees in worship as words tumbled from your lips in adoration. A woman who have him validation was blinding—searing his soul with the brightest light to spear him to the heavens in grace. He loved the whispers as he wore his crown for a day.

“Aemond, my Prince…”

“You are far too,” your breath would hitch in your throat from a thrust he timed completely. He tipped his chin to watch the words fumble. “Too good for me… too good… my Prince.”

“King,” Aemond wished to hear in his growl.

“My perfect King,” you cooed. He pounded into your core harshly. Your body jolting into the mattress, deeper and deeper than anyone had ever before.

“Tell me,” he grunted, hands leaving marks at your waist. “Tell me I am the only one who makes you feel this way.

“You are my King,” you gasped. His cock drove into you. Each moment hitting the sweetest spot. “You are the only one to make me feel this good.” His ego was growing ten sizes.

“No one fucks me as good as you—no one fucks a whore like you.”

“No,” he spat. He leaned into you and pulled you face close by the chin. His fingers were harsh and steaming. “You’re no whore. You’re mine.”

“Yours,” you repeated dumbfounded. “Only yours my King. The best King.”

“That’s right.” He pounded away faster each second passed. Aemond pushed you further. Your back arched off the mattress; his arm wrapped around your waist as he held you close and far too personal in the way a man of his stature should hold a woman like you—yet there was truly nothing more personal than fucking.

“Fuck,” You moaned out. “Oh, f-fuck, Aemond.”

Too good. He was too good.

“You going to come for me?” Aemond slid his hand toward the top of your back and changed his angle. He was agonizing inside of you. “You’re so perfect. Gods, you’re perfect.”

But you no more than him.

The waves of your orgasm came washing through you. He kept his pace until he too found his end inside of you. In the glow of the finale, Aemond brushed his fingers against the skin of your forehead gently. He could do nothing but share the praise he received.

“Such a beautiful girl,” he caressed. “I could fuck you forever.”

“Me too, my Prince. Me Too.”

[scuddisher]

i start writing an aegon smut & tumblr fixed this blog...

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IM FREEEEEEEEE

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not having a layout since i got mature content labeled is making me so sad & tumblr support hasn't answered my stuff soooo I'll probably move blogs rip

[scuddisher]

MDNI BANNERS | blues.

( requested by -> Anon )

hopefully theses are the blues you’re looking for, Anon ! they’re more towards the darker, more royal blues. :3 also i wasn’t sure what style you were looking for, so I just went with my typical banner style. good luck with your jjk theme :) !!

feel free to use; please like, reblog, and credit 〜

support me through ko-fi | more mdni banners →

[scuddisher]

NO WAY THIS ACCOUNT GOT NUKED ???

[scuddisher]

this series is literally rotting my brain in the best way possible

A Love Too Dark Masterlist

The Marquis Vincent de Gramont x Reader

Summary:

She was working as a bunny-girl in a casino when a mysterious VVIP arrived to ruin the peace in her life.

It's scary when someone like the Marquis de Gramont - ambitious, rich, and highly influential - took an interest in you.

WARNING: THIS IS A DARK FIC.

This story will contain 18+ mature themes, blackmail, forced kissing, dark romance, toxic behaviour, blood, violence, stalking, manipulation, a lot of smut, dubious consent, non-consensual content, non-consensual creampie, breeding, yandere Marquis de Gramont, power play, and power imbalance, obsession, dark Marquis de Gramont, and abuse of power. The list will be added more as the story progresses. Minors, don't read.

This story is also available on Archive Of Our Own (AO3) site.

Link

Chapters

Chapter 01: A Deal With The Devil

Chapter 02: Chaos and Risks

Chapter 03: He Grabbed Her

Chapter 04: Insatiable Need For Satisfaction

Chapter 05: Dark And Primal

Chapter 06: Lives In His Hands

Chapter 07

If you’re interested in being on my taglist to be tagged in the next chapters, please leave a comment here and mention the taglist.

[scuddisher]

𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗕𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗦 (𝗦𝗢 𝗗𝗢 𝗜)

KINKTOBER ACT II, eric northman x fem!reader

summary: 2.7k

“You smell fucking amazing,” he groans and his teeth drag against your pulse point. Before you can make any sort of comment on that, you feel his teeth puncture into your skin just as two of his fingers sink into your cunt. His incredibly long and devastatingly thick fingers that are already stretching you out as they slowly thrust in.

or the one where eric has a specific taste for blood. yours.

warnings: not beta’d, smut, significant age gap (eric is like 1000, r is early 20s), dub-con, mind control on the low, blood drinking, high sex (eric's blood/v), smoking

masterlist | taglist | kinktober

When vampires had first come out of the coffin, you’d been barely above the age of seventeen, and their integration into the mainstream had been a whirlwind you’d been utterly unprepared for. Being from the south, your parents had instilled a deep sense of distrust in your fanged counterparts. Or, in your own words, fear. 

Your parents had nearly tried to keep you out of college because of it, claiming you’d be much safer here at home, but you’d nipped that in the bud fairly quickly. Still, that didn’t mean you were going to let it slip to them where you were going on your evenings spent at home over the summer. All they needed to know is that you’d be home in the morning. 

Your friends had been begging you to go to this bar across town with them for ages. They’d been going for years, but, being the only one in the group not willing to get a fake ID, you’d been left out of all the fun. Now, though, that you were over the legal drinking age, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to check it out seeing as your friends seemed to like it so much. Or, as you came to find out, seeing as they apparently liked the owner so much. 

“You’re gonna freak when you see him,” Rachel says, looking over at you from the driver’s seat. You’d been friends with Rachel for forever, longer than you can remember. She’d gone off to school somewhere in the northeast–a liberal arts college with less than two thousand total students–and it’d been ages since you’d last seen her. 

“I don’t get what’s so special about him?”

“Are you kidding me?” Rachel squeaks. “About Eric fucking Northman?”

Anyone who’d been west of Baton Rouge knew the name Eric Northman. It was undeniable. Someone could whisper the name in a corner of a packed ballroom, and a hush would fall over the crowd. 

And, yet, somehow, despite living in Shreveport since your conception, it hadn’t crossed your path. 

“Yeah?” you drawl. “He’s probably just some guy.”

“Some guy,” Gina scoffs. 

“He’s quite literally the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen,” she says as she fiddles with her engagement ring. “He’s a fucking god.”

“Sure,” you say, rolling your eyes. 

It isn’t much longer before you’re pulling into a shady parking lot behind a vacant liquor store. There’s a couple other cars in the lot, mostly what your father would call shit-boxes that have either been sewn together with duct tape or have bumpers that have been left to drag the ground. Slamming the passenger door shut, you reach into the pocket of your jacket to take out the pack of cigarettes, stamping one on your bottom lip as you dig further in the pocket to find your lighter.

Your friends have already walked across the lot to step into line when you finally get a light, shoving your materials back into your jacket as you jog over to where they are at the back of the, thankfully, fast-moving line. 

“Really?” Rachel asks. 

“Just be glad I didn’t do it in the car, okay.” You offer a squint of your eyes in a pseudo smile. 

“Whatever,” she sighs. 

The bouncer lets the three men in biker jackets ahead of you in and stops to examine you. She seems to recognize your friends and nods at them to follow the men, only to stick a manicured hand out in front of your chest as soon as you take a step. 

“I’m with them,” you huff, tapping the ashes out of your cigarette. 

“Sorry, sweetie. I’m gonna need to see some ID,” she drawls. The sweetie comes out in a sharp bite that has you taking a step away from her outstretched arm. She grabs the butt from between your lips and stamps it out beneath her stiletto’d heel.

“Fine,” you say. Digging in the other pocket of your jacket, you grab your wallet and hand over your driver's license. You’re thankful you’d just recently gotten your ID updated and have the horizontal one now, or you’re sure she would’ve kept you back. Where, you’re also sure, your friends would have left you to sit for the rest of the night. 

“Have a good night,” she says, handing it back to you and allowing you to step into the crimson bar. As soon as you’re through the door, you dig your pack out and light a new cigarette. Bitch. 

Your eyes gravitate toward the stage. A very large throne sits to the side of it, flanked by two overgrown men with their eyes scanning the small dance floor at the foot of the stage. The man in the throne is bigger. Much bigger. Large to the point that he dwarfs the chair you think would swallow you whole. You watch as he sits up, spine straightening as he looks the crowd over. 

You don’t think anything of it until his gaze falls on you. He seems to smile, and it’s then that you see the sharp canines extending out of his gums. 

You suppose coming to a vampire bar should’ve made you mentally prepare to come into contact with a vampire or two. 

The man on the throne appears before you in an instant, fangs retracted as he gives you a softer smile than he’d had previously. It unnerves you, still, with the way his eyes seem glazed over and his body hovers over yours. You glance back at the stage, eyes flickering nervously back and forth as if it’d just been a trick of the lights and you’d catch him lounging there again if you blinked hard enough. 

“You are… a pretty thing, aren’t you,” he says, voice growling in a register lower than you’d been expecting. It sends a shiver down your spine. He’s tall. Frighteningly, inhumanly tall in a way that has you cowering beneath him. Even seeing him on the stage before, it’s much more shocking up close. “It’s a shame you feel the need to taint it with that.”

He gestures to the stick between your lips with a flippant gesture, plucking it from your mouth to stamp it beneath his boot. What’s with everyone stealing your cigarettes tonight?

“Hey-”

“Still,” he leans down until his nose is inches away from your jaw and inhales. You don’t have the time to push him back before he’s returned to his full height. 

“Who the fuck are you?” you ask, attempting to take a step back only to bump into one of the bustling–and fairly sweaty–bodies behind you. The man raises his brow in surprise. 

“My, my,” he says. “Coming all the way out to my little bar and you treat me this way?”

“Eric,” you exhale. Your friends were right. He’s beautiful. 

“And you are?” You give him your name in a huff. 

“Follow me,” he says.

“I don’t know-” His fingers come up beneath your chin to tilt your face so that you’re like him in the eye. Something swirls within them, something you can’t place. You do your best to ignore the dull throb emanating beneath your dress. 

“Follow me.”

Your legs seem to move of their own accord, hand reaching up to take his as he leads you across the dingy floor towards a door beside the bar. You dodge bodies crumpled together between tables and chairs and slink behind him as he nods at a bouncer guarding the door. Once it’s open, he gestures for you to enter first. 

It’s a small office looking room. Various pictures and files line the walls and every surface is drowned in boxes and other small objects. You don’t have the time to get a good look at any of them, though, before Eric is spinning you to face him once again. 

You can see the way his lips twitch as you meet his gaze, nostrils flared. His hand lands on your shoulder, dragging down the side of your arm as goosebumps sprout in its wake. You want to blame it on the fact that he’s freezing, on the fact that he’s got fangs. On the fact that he owns this whole bar and now you’re standing in his office with the door locked. Not on the fact that he’s probably got decades of experience. Or, god forbid, centuries. 

“Why did you bring me here?” you ask. It comes out in a whisper, voice hoarse from swallowing hard. Breath hitching, your knees do their best not to buckle as Eric steps into you, forcing you back until your ass hits the edge of his desk. His leg comes to press between your thighs. With a nudge, his knee would be pressing directly against you, and you’re thankful he gives you the space. You inch up the desk until you’re halfway sitting on it. There’s no reason for you to be as hot as you are right now, and less of a reason for him to know about it so soon. Honestly, he can probably smell it on you. 

“Why do you think I brought you back here?” he asks, hands falling against your thighs. There’s no pressure, just their presence. 

“I don’t fuck random guys in bars,” you say. 

He stalls, hands crawling up to rest on your hips. 

“I’m the owner.”

“So I was right,” you say. “You lured me back here just to fuck me.”

He hums. You can’t tell if it's in agreement. His knee presses into you fully and you hope he chooses not to comment on how you’re pulsating against it. 

“Would you like that?” he asks. He brings his hands down again, this time to the hem of your dress. He begins to push up. Slowly. Oh, so slow, you barely register it until it’s bunched up at the tops of your thighs. You’re not sure why you nod. You think if asked you at a different time, a second before or after, you would have shaken your head and allowed him to lead you back out to the patrons, to your two friends who would lose their minds if they knew where you were right now. 

His mouth finds yours as he pushes your dress the rest of the way up. You can feel the way you’re leaving a damp spot against his pants and try not to whimper as he applies more pressure with his knee. You don’t succeed in that venture. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss. It’s not nearly as rough as you had expected it to be, but it’s far from soft. His tongue is in your mouth, licking at the flats of your teeth. His fingers dig into your skin as he thumbs at the seam of your panties, pressing it to the side enough to gather the wetness coating your slit and drag it up to your clit. Your hips jump against him. 

He disconnects your lips to trail his kisses down the dies of your face and down your neck. Pulling back, he draws your eyes up to look, and the dark swirl from earlier returns. “Don’t scream,” he says. “Unless it’s my name.”

Before he re-attaches himself to your neck, you watch as his fangs click out, and you feel the cold rod of fear as it slides down your spine. 

“You smell fucking amazing,” he groans and his teeth drag against your pulse point. Before you can make any sort of comment on that, you feel his teeth puncture into your skin just as two of his fingers sink into your cunt. His incredibly long and devastatingly thick fingers that are already stretching you out as they slowly thrust in. 

“Eric,” you squeal. You’re already dizzy, his tongue laving at the skin of your neck. Finally, he pulls back and you feel seconds away from passing out. His fingers are still inside of you, massaging your walls. His free hand comes up to his mouth, and you watch as his fangs pierce the skin there and he’s holding his bloody palm up to your mouth. 

“Drink,” he says. You oblige and suddenly you’re dizzy in an entirely different way. Every touch feels heightened, every item in the room seems to glow, and Eric truly, honestly, looks like a fucking god. The open wound on your neck stops aching and you swear you feel the holes close up. 

“Eric, please,” you whine. He tugs your panties down first, balling them up in his fist and tossing them somewhere behind his desk. Then his belt comes undone and he’s yanking his pants down just enough to pull his cock out of the confines. And if you thought his fingers were big before. 

“That’s not gonna fucking fit,” you gasp. He jerks himself until he’s fully hard. 

“Trust me, sweetheart. It will,” he says as he notches himself against your entrance. 

“No, I swear, you’re gonna rip me in half!” “Trying hard not to do that, already,” he says. He pushes in with one solid thrust. Even only halfway in, you can feel him in your throat. “Feel even better than you taste.”

Your ankles link around his back and your feet dig into his ass in an attempt to get him to move, to push into you until you can feel his pelvis against yours. He does. One thrust, then an agonizing pull back before he slams back in. 

Every part of you trembles as his pace picks up. 

“Oh my god? Oh my god,” you squeak. 

“Just me,” he quips and his head falls back. He’s fucking you at a superhuman speed, hips snapping into yours with so much force you think he’s close to bruising your cervix. And still. It feels good. It feels so fucking good. Every touch leaves you tingling and you think you’re going to explode with his hand finding your clit again. He pushes your legs open wider, allowing him to press into you further. 

You’ve never been this wet in your life. Not with your vibrator, not with any of your boyfriends, not even with the one you swore you were in love with when you were a sophomore in college. The squelch of his cock driving into you rings in your ears and you don’t think you’ll ever forget the sound. A coil within you begins to wind tight, your body on the precipice of turning into jelly in Eric’s hold. 

“I want you to cum for me, sweetheart,” he growls and it’s enough to send you flying. You clench around him, walls fluttering and throbbing as you feel his dick twitch in you. 

As soon as you’ve regained your consciousness enough to offer him a weak smile, he’s pulling out of you and spinning you around so that the front of your hips are against the desk. He thrusts into you swiftly once more, never once faltering from the ruinous pace he’d started up previously. Your back arches into the desk. Your pussy feels raw, overstimulated, melting into the pleasure he’s driving into you. Another orgasm is sure to follow. And quickly. 

“You are mine, whether you agree to it or not,” he growls. His thrusts begin to grow sloppy, cock twitching with every pump of his hips. With a final push in, he cums and offers you the first bit of warmth he’s been able to give you all night. You fall down the same rabbit hole moments later. Your entire body twitches as you do and you can barely feel anything as he pulls out of you. 

He gives you a minute to catch your breath, to gather yourself and spin around to face him as you tug your dress back down your thighs. You’re panting, still, as he wipes the semi-dried blood off of your neck and brings it up to his lips to lick clean. 

“No more cigarettes,” he says. “I can’t wait to see how you taste when you’re… pure.”

“I don’t know if I can promise that,” you say. 

“You will.”

He grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” he says. “I’ll be seeing you.”

He’s gone before you can ask what he means by that. 

[scuddisher]

Whatever Happens First

Eric Northman x Female Reader

Summary: Capitalism is a prison, and you enter into a contract with Eric to repay your student loans, not expecting to catch feelings.

Warnings: 18+ Only!, Explicit Sexual Content, Vampires, Blood Sucking, Prostitution, Kissing, Biting, Vaginal Sex, Cock Warming

Word Count: 500+

Read more Eric!

You hadn’t expected to fall this hard for Eric when you entered into this contract, figuring you could spread your legs for him until your student loans were officially paid off. But the way he looked at you when he pushed inside, the way he moaned your name like it was something sacred really dragged you in deeper than you had ever planned to go. In the beginning he was so quick to pull out, leaving you to the bitter cold solitude of your satin sheets, but each session you had together seemed to extend a little bit longer than the last. His bites had turned into kisses, his grasps into caresses as he purposefully took more time focusing on your guaranteed pleasure before finally letting his fangs emerge.

The look in his eye tonight is absolutely devious, as if he hadn’t just spent the past three hours taking you in every position possible, his body entwining with yours until you started to ache from how many times he’s stretched you from the inside out. Your inner muscles still flutter at the tantalizing thought of him driving that blissful feeling up into your flesh, how insatiable he looked as he generously fed your body’s most carnal cravings. You can’t get over how quickly his eyes rolled back into his head as he continually got lost in your viscera, sweat dripping down his face and neck from the insurmountable deluge of pleasure he poured into you.

But suddenly the pain in your thigh grows sharp, cramping into your muscle in a jarring, burning twinge up through you and into your hip as he continues to hold himself inside you. You shift your weight in order to hop off in hopes to ease the pain, but his strong hands pull you back down on top of him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He looks up at you through heavily hooded lids.

“Eric,” you whine, giving him an annoyed look as you press down on his chest to get some leverage.

He only smirks as you exert yourself trying to get off of him again, chuckling as you hopelessly try to overpower him and break the connection between you.

“You wanna be a good little whore for me, don’t you?” Eric’s words shock you to your core as he sits up to kiss your chest, his hands still firm on your hips.

“Eric, please,” you whisper as he kisses his way up your neck, licking the remnants of blood off your skin and into his mouth.

“Don’t you?” He repeats breathily, gently thrusting his hips up into you despite still being flaccid, knowing full well what it will do to you.

“Uh-huh,” you nod, nearly jumping out of your skin as another wave of ecstasy works its way up through your sensitive, overstimulated tissue.

“I thought so.” He kisses your mouth sloppily, lazily licking your teeth and tongue before sucking your bottom lip into his mouth with a mischievous grin. He then spins you around and turns you on your side, wrapping his thigh around your knee to keep you in place in one fluid motion. He presses himself even deeper inside, his relaxed member still bigger than those of your past lovers at full attention as he kisses the back of your neck.

“Then you can keep me inside you like this until I fall asleep.” He playfully bites your earlobe, sucking on it as he tugs it away from your face before letting it bounce back into place. “Or until I get hard again. Whatever happens first.”

[scuddisher]

gallons of the stuff. | roman godfrey

›› pairing: roman godfrey x f!reader

›› wordcount: 3.2k

›› genre: smut, established relationship

›› rating: 18+, mdni

›› synopsis: you've recently stopped taking your birth control. roman has a problem with that.

›› warnings: period sex, bloodplay, oral sex, dirty talk, soft dom!roman, very explicit tampon scene, both characters are in high school but 18

›› misc: i haven't written in months, very out of practice. it's true - i'm back on my hemlock grove bullshit. if you're new here, we love bloodplay in this household. i wrote this in one sitting, and barely edited it. it's probably riddled with typos.

you had just gotten out of your last class for the day; you spied peter and roman talking near your locker. ❝ hi. ❞ you greeted peter with a wave, but roman you clung to and tried to grab a kiss on tip toes from.

roman, however, took a step back before you could make it. you tripped and almost landed right in front of him.

it was peter who stopped you from falling completely, as roman had moved back even further. he wasn't speaking, instead looking strangely at you, like you had grown a few extra heads in your couple hours apart.

❝ dude, what the hell? ❞ peter chastised his friend.

you stood there, hurt that your own boyfriend didn't want to kiss you, and when roman continued to just stare silently at you, you finally waved an impatient hand in front of his face. ❝ um, hello? ❞

❝ what happened? ❞ he asked quietly. ❝ what did you do? something's … different. ❞

you shrugged, looking to peter for help. he shrugged, too, looking between the two of you.

❝ i don't know, what could be different? i mean, what do you mean? ❞ roman wasn't making any sense.

roman's gaze flickered between you and peter, his mind racing as he seemingly tried to pinpoint what exactly felt off about you. was it your demeanor? your scent? it didn't seem he could put his finger on it, but something had definitely changed since he'd last seen you this morning.

❝ look, if you're not gonna answer me and just give me the silent treatment, i'll take myself home. ❞

❝ I'll give you a ride, ❞ peter offered, but roman chose that moment to reach out and grab your wrist, pulling you back to him.

❝ are you hurt? ❞ he finally asked. his eyes were moving a mile a minute over you, your face and body. ❝ you smell like … blood. ❞

you blushed from the tips of your toes all the way to your forehead. ❝ i mean, ❞ you said, speaking even more quietly than roman had, ❝ it is that time of the month … ❞

but roman had been around you countless times during your period. he liked it, as any vampire would, but he'd never acted this strange about it.

roman's expression softened slightly as he processed your words, but there was still a flicker of something else behind his eyes. ❝ I'm sorry, ❞ he murmured, his voice low. ❝ It's just different today. it's ... more. did something happen? ❞

❝ okay, i'm gonna take this as my cue to leave, ❞ peter said warily, backing away from the two of you.

as good of a friend as peter was, you hardly noticed him go. you were focused on roman, and moreso on his focus on you.

❝ roman, i'm sorry, i don't … know what could be different. ❞ maybe you were bleeding through your shorts? that would be embarrassing. but no, you had just checked in the bathroom mirror before last class. there was no way your flow had become so heavy within the last hour.

roman's intense gaze lingered on your face, his mind racing with possibilities. ❝ can we go home? i'm … it's dangerous for us to be here, together, right now. with you like that. ❞ he tugged at your hand, leading you to the front doors.

as you neared the school parking lot, you remembered something. about a month ago, just after your last period, you had made a change. something you'd been wanting to do for a while.

❝ roman. ❞ you stopped in your tracks, gazing at him. ❝ i remember … i had been wanting to for a while, just to see how i'd do without it, but … a little while back i stopped my birth control. ❞

roman's eyes widened, his grip on your hand tightening involuntarily. ❝ you … stopped? ❞ he repeated, his voice barely a whisper. ❝ why … why would you … do that? ❞

❝ i - i thought it might be causing some of my weight gain, plus i was always fucking hungry. and my mood swings … i thought it would help, ❞ you answered meekly. roman was clearly upset about this.

❝ are you insane? ❞ roman hissed, stepping close to you so that no other passing students would hear. ❝ that's so fucking dangerous. you're gonna be bleeding so much more without it. do you really have that much faith in my self-control? ❞

❝ i didn't think … ❞ was all you said. of course you didn't, fucking idiot that you were. your boyfriend was upir, and here you were giving your body more of a reason to tempt his hunger.

roman sighed, his anger melting away into concern as he pulled you closer to him. ❝ we need to get you home, now. i'll … i'll take care of you. ❞ he guided you toward the car; it seemed his mind was already racing thinking about what he was going to do with you.

how he was possibly planning to ' take care ' of you was anyone's guess. he probably wanted to devour you right now …

on the ride home, you sat with your legs clamped together, as if that would help. roman drove with a hand over his mouth and nose, as if that would help.

❝ roman, i'm really sorry, ❞ you blurted. ❝ i didn't think about you, about how it would affect you, and i should have … ❞

roman's severe expression softened, and he reached over to take your hand in his own. ❝ it's okay, ❞ he reassured you gently. ❝ we'll figure it out. we just need to … be careful. ❞

he pulled into the driveway, escorting you gently inside with a hand at the small of your back. the two of you hurried up to roman's room.

you, however, were now afraid to even sit down anywhere. what if you bled through your tampon? bled on roman's sheets? that would really set him off.

so you stood awkwardly at roman's bedside table.

roman watched your discomfort with a mix of concern and frustration. ❝ baby, come here, ❞ he murmured, gesturing for you to sit on the edge of the bed. ❝ i promise, i won't let anything happen to you. just … relax. ❞

you took a seat, gingerly, making sure not to sit too close to him.

roman moved in closer, his gaze softening as he took your hand in his. ❝ i'm sorry if i scared you earlier, ❞ he said quietly. ❝ i just … worry about you. you know that. ❞ his thumb brushed soothingly over the back of your hand.

you nodded - roman typically treated you like you were some kind of treasure, one he had to make sure was safe, that he couldn't bear to lose. ❝ i know, and … i'm grateful. i promise i'll start taking it again and get back on my schedule tonight. ❞

roman kissed your knuckles, gazing up at you through his long lashes. he didn't say anything, and his expression was unreadable. slowly, his lips trailed back and forth over your knuckles. he seemed about to say something, but didn't. it seemed to you that his eyes had darkened.

you took over, flirting your fingers over roman's lips, loving how soft and perfect they were. ❝ roman? what're you thinking? ❞

roman's eyes darkened further as he gazed up at you, a flicker of desire dancing in their depths. ❝ just thinking … that it might be better if you stayed off of it. i mean … how selfish of me would it be to make you get back on, when you were having so many issues? ❞

his voice was quiet, but you heard a hint of something else. something dangerous.

your lips parted, and you slid your hand from his grasp, cradling his jaw. ❝ are you sure? i don't wanna make things awful for you or - ❞

roman's lips curved into a slow, sensual smile at your touch. ❝ darling, ❞ he murmured, his voice low and husky. ❝ you could never make things awful for me. ❞ his hand rose to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin softly. ❝ in fact, i think it might be rather … exciting. ❞

❝ exciting how? ❞ you squeezed your thighs together to try and quell your growing arousal. ❝ d - didn't you just say it'll be dangerous? ❞

roman's lips quirked into a mischievous grin. ❝ sure it will be, ❞ he purred, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. ❝ but, with you being off birth control, you're going to be bleeding a lot heavier. and with all that blood going south, you're gonna be so horny … why don't you let me help? ❞ as he spoke, his gaze darkened again, the hunger smoldering in his eyes now unmistakable.

an embarrassing little moan escaped you, and you shuffled closer to your boyfriend. ❝ i'm already horny for you, roman. it's not like i don't beg for your cock practically every chance i get … you really think it'll be worse now? ❞ it had been many years since you started birth control; you weren't sure what to expect being off of it.

roman's breath hitched at your words, his desire igniting like wildfire. ❝ oh, angel, ❞ he murmured, his voice rough with need. ❝ i think it'll be a whole lot worse. but don't worry, ❞ he added, one big hand sliding down to caress your thigh. ❝ i'll take care of you. i'll make sure you're properly satisfied. ❞ his gaze smoldered with primal hunger as he leaned in to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

those words - ' i'll take care of you ' … roman had spoken them to you many times before. they always had the desired effect; to make you spread your legs and ache for him to be between them, to be true to his word.

you did so now, leaning back as he kissed you, spreading your legs wide for him to settle between them. you were still worried about bleeding onto his expensive sheets, but knew roman would take care of it if you did.

roman groaned into the kiss as he settled between your legs, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he ground his growing erection against your core. ❝ god, baby, ❞ he muttered, his voice thick with desire. ❝ you smell so fucking good. i could smell it as soon as you got up this morning, but … i wasn't sure. i didn't know what it could be. ❞

he broke the kiss to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, his tongue tracing teasing patterns over your skin. his hand slipped between your bodies, rubbing gently at your clit through the fabric of your shorts.

you let out a broken moan, clinging to his broad frame. ❝ i - it wasn't … i mean, it didn't properly start until after i got to school … ❞

your face was burning, and roman's insistent fingers pressing the rough cotton of your shorts down over your clit was making you see stars. ❝ r - roman … my clit … it's really sensitive … ❞

roman's lips curled into a wicked grin at your confession, his touch becoming more deliberate as he stroked your throbbing clit through the fabric of your shorts. ❝ sensitive, huh? ❞ he murmured, his voice husky with desire. ❝ i told you, all that blood down there … it's gonna make you crazy. i'll just have to be extra gentle with you, won't i? ❞ his fingers danced teasingly over your sensitive flesh, eliciting soft gasps and moans from your lips. ❝ but tell me, baby, ❞ he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. ❝ do you want me to be gentle? ❞

you loved when he was gentle with you. there was always a time and a place for a good, rough pounding, but you loved roman most when he made room for you, gave himself over to you completely and treated you like a princess.

you nodded with a soft pout. ❝ am i a total baby if i say yes … ? ❞

roman's lips curved into a tender smile as he brushed a strand of hair away from your flushed face. ❝ no, darling, ❞ he murmured, his voice laced with heavy affection. ❝ you're not a baby at all. you're my princess, and i'll treat you as such. ❞ his fingers continued their gentle ministrations, coaxing soft moans of pleasure from you. ❝ just relax, angel. let me take care of you. ❞

you held onto him, keeping him close as he touched you. the two of you kissed soft, deep, passionate kisses, and it wasn't long before roman was hooking his long fingers into the waist of your shorts, trying to drag them and your panties down at the same time.

❝ uh, roman. ❞ you grabbed his wrists, looking nervously at him. ❝ i still … have my tampon in. ❞

roman's eyes flickered with concern at your words, his fingers stilling in their attempt to pull down your shorts. ❝ mmm, ❞ he hummed, the timbre of his voice soft and soothing. ❝ you really think i care about that? ❞ he leaned back slightly, his gaze seeking yours. ❝ … can i take it out for you? ❞

it was so embarrassing, to have him asking you that right to your face. but you did, god you did. were you sick in the head?

you nodded, slowly, trembling hands half covering your face as roman stripped your shorts and underwear off.

roman's lips curved into a tender smile as he gently peeled off your shorts and underwear, exposing your naked bottom half to his hungry gaze. with delicate care, he reached between your thighs, his fingers deftly locating the string of your tampon.

❝ it's alright, baby, ❞ he murmured, his voice filled with reassurance. ❝ i've got you. ❞ one strong hand steadied itself on your belly as the other slid the tampon slowly out of you.

you moaned, against your will, as he took it and held it up. it was dripping, all over his bed.

❝ roman, stop! your bedding … ❞ you made to grab it, but roman held it just out of your reach.

❝ tsk, tsk, not yet. i still have business with this thing, ❞ he muttered with one of his signature cute, quirky smiles. you knew what he was going to do, but it still took you aback when he closed his pretty lips around it.

you sat and breathed heavily, watching as roman's cock twitched in his jeans the moment the tampon hit his tongue.

roman's eyes never left yours as he suckled your tampon, his tongue expertly lapping at the spongy material. he made soft, sensual noises of enjoyment as he savored the taste of your fluids, the scent of your arousal heady in the air.

you squirmed beneath him, unable to keep still as heat further pooled between your legs. you wanted him so badly, and the thought of him tasting you like this was driving you wild with desire.

as roman finished, he slowly withdrew the tampon from his mouth, a string of blood, saliva, and your juices connecting it to his lips before it snapped free. ❝ you taste divine, love, ❞ he murmured, his gaze smoldering with carnal desire. ❝ i'm sorry, i can't - ❞

with a feral growl, he dove down, pushing your legs back as he began to devour your bloody cunt.

the sight of roman between your legs, the lower half of his face all smeared with your blood and juices was enough to make you feel faint. ❝ oh god, roman … ❞ his bloodied nose nudged your clit and you sobbed, gripping the sheets.

roman was right - you were bleeding a lot more now that she were off the pill. you could feel it smeared along your inner thighs and dripping to the bed.

❝ touch me, ❞ roman murmured, as he added two long fingers into the mix. he slid them easily, hungrily, into your wetness. ❝ touch me - pull my hair, slap me, scratch my back, whatever you want. i'm yours. ❞

you could feel your wet, open, bloody pussy trying so hard to clamp down on his fingers. but everything down there was so wet and open, roman's fingers glided almost too easily in and out of you.

you did as you were told, reaching down to card your fingers through his hair.

roman groaned softly against you, his lips working fervently against your clit as he added a third finger to the mix, stretching you open even wider. he was relentless, his movements becoming more frenzied as he devoured you with unrestrained hunger.

your fingers tangled in his hair, your nails grazing lightly against his scalp as you tugged him closer, urging him on with desperate need. your body was on fire, every nerve ending electrified by the exquisite pleasure coursing through your veins.

as your climax approached, roman's fingers quickened their pace, driving you ever closer to the edge of ecstasy. ❝ do you wanna cum like this? or d'you want something else? ❞

that third finger was exactly what you needed. you nodded, tugging and pulling harshly at roman's hair. as much as you loved his cock, you didn't want even a second break from this, for him to whip it out. and you knew roman would give it to you any way you wanted it. ❝ just like this … please, roman, make me cum … ❞

roman's lips curved into a wicked grin as he redoubled his efforts, his fingers working feverishly inside you while his tongue danced skillfully over your sensitive clit. your entire body tensed beneath him, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you teetered on the brink of release.

with a guttural groan, he applied just the right amount of pressure, his fingers curling inside of you as his lips closed around your swollen bud. he sucked and licked with abandon, driving you wild with pleasure until you'd had enough and shattered around him, your cries of ecstasy echoing in the air.

as your climax washed over you, roman didn't let up, continuing to lavish attention on your throbbing center, prolonging your pleasure until you were trembling with the intensity of your release. only then did he finally ease off, his lips trailing a path of fiery, bloody kisses up your trembling body.

you were still shaking as he reached your lips, a questioning look in his eye. you grabbed the back of his head and pulled him quickly down, kissing him deeply.

tasting your own blood was … odd. not unpleasant, but certainly not as pleasant as it had been to roman.

roman, who was panting, his mouth smeared with red, dripping onto you, your shoulders, your chest, the bed.

❝ we need a shower, ❞ you grunted, afraid to even close your legs with the slippery mess down there.

❝ i don't see what the problem is, ❞ roman laughed as he gave you another kiss.

[scuddisher]

list of favorite things as a fanfic author:

When someone is really freaking mad at me for inducing an emotional response from them

when readers give me a background of how/when they read my writing

when readers give me a background of why they shouldn’t have been reading my writing (usually while at work)

when readers quote my work back to me in comments

the frickin’ real heroes here, the ones who comment on every chapter of an ongoing multi-chapter fic

[scuddisher]

꒷꒦꒷ EWAN MITCHELL MASTERLIST ꒷꒦꒷

DISCLAIMER: all content here is 18+, minors do not interact! do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission. do not post my content on other sites, especially claiming them as your own! reblogs and feedback are seriously appreciated <3

[ UPDATED: SEPT 9TH | RECENT | RECS | NAVI ]

OSFERTH ☓ THE LAST KINGDOM (2015-2022)

OWED A COIN. — 18+ | 2024 | drabble | 1.1k

You once loaned Osferth some coin, and his method to pay it back is a bit savory.

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