#;;v: A king is he that can hold his own.

[coqvttes]

୨୧― KINKTOBER: ❝DON'T BE GENTLE❞ ― KÖNIG.

― ꒰ SIZE KINK ✰ KINKTOBER M.LIST ꒱ ―

୨୧˚ synopsis: after begging your gentle giant of a lover, könig to go rough on you, he lets loose tonight and shows you just how strong he really is...

୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw 16+ only, manhandling, size kink, p in v, petnames, degradation, fem!reader, sub!reader, dom!könig, creampie, teasing, hairpulling, dacryphilia?, roughness, spanking, slapping, aftercare, lmk if i forgot anything!

୨୧˚ wc: 1.4k

your jaw hangs open and your glossy eyes are practically rolling back into your head as he pounds into your sopping cunt mercilessly. plump tits bouncing freely with every harsh thrust of his, causing your thoughts to grow hazy and dumb. his large, rough palms are stretched out on both sides of you, his rough fingers digging into the mattress, keeping you caged beneath his much larger frame.

you try your best to focus on his burly figure above you, but you keep whining as your little cunt struggles to take all of him in. your eyes become squeezed shut, your head turning to the side as you grow lost in the overwhelming pleasure, but you're alerted by the sudden light slap on your cheek. you gasp at the contact and more tears spill from your eyes.

"wan' you to ruin me, könig! don't want you to be gentle", you had pleaded fluttering your lashes at him innocently. and that's how you end up like this. tiny body pinned down on his king-sized bed as he forces his massive dick inside of your needy little cunt. all your little brain can manage to think about is how big he is.

gosh, you've never felt so full with how he's meanly bullying his cock into your drooling cunt with no remorse whatsoever. your shaky little hands gripping onto his huge bulging biceps with so much strength that if were he another man, it would hurt — but no, he's könig of course.

your mind is void of coherent thoughts as all you can manage to do is moan delightedly, accepting all that he gives you. with his strong arms he moves both of your legs up to rest on his shoulders. a high-pitched pornographic moan slips from your lips as you get used to the new angle.

his thick cock hitting all of the sweet spots inside of you, encouraging hot tears to roll down your cheeks. your fingers slide up his toned abdomen, needing to feel anything and everything that's his. he takes in the sight of you beneath him and he almost feels bad for being so rough with you, but he keeps his composure.

with the lewd medley of the headboard banging into the wall, wet squelching, your sweet moans, and obscene skin-on-skin slapping noises, the sounds bouncing off the walls of your bedroom are purely sinful. creating a tune that he doesn't ever want to forget, and neither do you.

your watery innocent eyes plead with his own as if begging him to slow down. but no, the last thing you want him to do right now is slow down. shaky hands reach up to his broad shoulders, trying to hold onto him for purchase and your lips part as you try and push yourself up in a frantic attempt to kiss him.

your body desperately yearning for his gentle touch in contrast to his brutal movements. you're relieved he begins to lean down, his lips merely inches away from your own, but he doesn’t kiss you. you let out a pitiful whine and he almost laughs at you with how pathetic you’re being.

in a single moment, with little effort, he cruelly pulls out of your warmth, flipping you over onto your tummy. you squeal at how easy it is for him to manhandle you around into different positions that suit his liking. you hate to admit that his strength alone turns you on so much. before you can complain to him, he’s pushing into you again, picking up on the brutal pace as if nothing had happened.

"du bettelst immer darum, gefickt zu werden, nicht wahr, kleine schlampe?" he snarls, snapping his hips against yours. (always begging to get fucked aren't you, little slut)

pathetic moans and cries spill from your lips into the sheets as he pounds into you mercilessly, his calloused palms gripping onto your hips so tight you’ll probably have bruises in the morning.

"du magst es, wenn ich dich eine schlampe nenne hm, dirty girl?" his rough movements are relentless as he makes no effort to slow down. (you like it when i call you a slut hm, dirty girl)

your mewls are muffled by the bed and he's having none of it. he raises his hand slightly before bringing it back down, spanking you. you lunge forward from the sensation. he then pulls your head up from the mattress by your hair, but not too hard, he doesn’t want to hurt you.

“say it.” he punctuates each of his words with a harsh thrust.

“y-yes! i love it—mmm!” you blubber out desperately, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you for dear life. he lets go of your hair and you can practically hear his satisfied smirk as his thrusts grow stronger, deeper and faster, rutting into you like an animal. you take it like a good girl, his good girl as if you were made for him. 

he applies just enough pressure with his palm pressing down on your lower back that makes you arch just perfectly. his rough palms kneading into your arse whilst you let him use you as he pleases.

just as you feel your climax approaching, he stops thrusting, hot tears spill down your cheeks as your fists bunch up the sheets beneath you. your weeping cunt clenches around him, dragging a gluttonous groan from his mouth. he leans down, pressing his chest to your back, his lips lingering just by your ear.

“say please, schatz,” you just know he’s grinning evilly behind you and you lose all sense of self-respect, just wanting to cum so bad.

“p-please! wanna cum please, i’ll be good!”

satisfied with your answer he gives you no warning as he slips back into you with ease, the wetness of your cunt sucking him in making it easy for him to thrust into you. you slowly feel your knees starting to give out, but thats not a problem, he holds you up easily and you feel your muscles tensing as you feel your orgasm approaching.

the sounds of his grunting, the squelching noises from your cunt, and the tingling in your core cause your mind to go numb and your body to spasm as you cum around him with a high-pitched cry, collapsing into the bed.

he follows moments after you, driving into you a few more times before his hips stutter as he releases inside of you, making you feel full and warm with him. as you catch your breath, his fingers, now gentle, run up and down your back tenderly in a soothing motion.

“was i too mean to you, schatz?” his voice is different now, it’s genuine and caring. he pulls out of you slowly, gently turning you over so he can see your pretty face. you shake your head and tug him down for a kiss. you sigh into his lips, finally getting a taste of his lips that you'd been yearning for the whole night. 

"i'll be right back, liebling." pulling away from you, he smiles down at your post-euphoric state. sliding off of the bed, he slips his briefs back on and disappears into the bathroom for a few minutes before returning with a playful grin.

slipping into your warm embrace, he wastes no time in cradling you in his brawny arms. you almost laugh at his switch of character, how he was just moments earlier, fucking your brains out and now he's picking you up in his arms like his sweetheart. supporting you from under your knees and arms, he carries you to the bathroom, you smile fondly at the sight of a warm bath ready just for you.

he carefully lowers you down into the porcelain tub and you exhale contently as your sore body makes contact with the warm temperature of the bathwater along with the sweet smell of your lavender soap, and the gentle touch of könig's palm as he strokes your blushing cheek tenderly.

and after a few heartbeats of watching you bathe, he just can't help himself before getting into the tub behind you, the water splashing everywhere as his much larger body envelopes yours. pulling your bare back flush against his chest, your frame now trapped in his loving embrace. in that moment you just know, he'll always care for you, your one and only könig.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ all works belong to © coqvettes 2023. i do not give permission to claim, translate or copy any of my works. reblogs are appreciated!

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

Jealousy - Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Sinner!Reader SMUT

Summary: Lucifer's jealousy emerges when your Ex from when you were alive enters the hotel in search of you. Lucifer makes sure to claim you as his.

Contents/Possible Warnings: P in V sex, dom!Lucifer, cream pie, Lucifer being possessive, marking, unprotected sex, degradation (it happens like once), SMUT, MDNI

A typical day in Hell was far from calm, so whenever a peaceful moment occurred, even a small one, you made sure to savor it, appreciating it for what it was. For example, you intended to let the wonderful moment you were currently in last for as long as you possibly could. You had been watching a movie in your room in the hotel, but by now your attention had turned away from the movie in question and onto Lucifer. The king of Hell had snuggled up closer to you than he already had been, his head resting on your shoulder as he watched the show.

The simple gesture made you melt, and you couldn't resist gently turning his face to look at you. Lucifer looked at you curiously, waiting for your next move. You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, enjoying the smile it brought to his face.

"Hmm, that was nice, but I think you missed, love." He leaned in, closing the gap between you two, kissing you lovingly. You moved to deepen the kiss and— a knock came at the door. You parted from the kiss and looked towards your room door as Lucifer let out a disappointed sigh. "I'll make sure to give you as many kisses as you want later, alright?" You whispered to him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before standing up and answering the door.

"(Y/N)!" Charlie exclaimed in excitement. "The hotel has a new guest! They said that they know you. You two must've been friends before! Come on, let's go see them!" Without warning, Charlie eagerly grabbed you by the hand, pulling you through the hallways of the hotel and towards the main lobby.

In the lobby, you saw them. The fucker you had hoped would never die purely so you would never have to see them again. Yet, here they were in all of their trashy, shit glory. "Hi." You said with a fake smile, trying to remain civil and hold back the resentment that had since been dormant.

"(Y/N)! Baby!" Your ex grinned, approaching you with wide, open arms. "I'm so glad I found you after all these years. It took some asking around, but we're together again!" They wrapped their arms around you, squeezing you tight enough that it felt like you might suffocate.

"Woah, haha! Hands off, please!" Lucifer appeared next to you, poking at your ex with his cane, annoyance seeping into his forced, polite tone. They finally released you, glaring at Lucifer as he stepped between the two of you.

"And just who the hell are you?" Your ex questioned, watching as Lucifer wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. "I feel like I should be asking you that question." Your boyfriend replied snidely, any attempt to be polite despite the situation now far gone.

"Alrighty!" Charlie said with a nervous laugh, wishing that she had gathered more information about her hotel's newest guest and their relationship with you before allowing them to see you. "Let's all just relax, and maybe (Y/N) can introduce the two of you to eachother."

You let out a sigh. You loved how sweet Charlie was taking in any sinner, you really did, but sometimes it did more harm than good, usually to no fault of her own. You motioned to your ex, "Lucifer, this is my ex." Then you motioned to your boyfriend, "This is Lucifer. King of Hell...And my boyfriend." The last part felt almost weird to say, the surrealness of dating the Hell's king and the man sometimes known as the devil himself finally setting in.

Your ex only laughed in response, earning an angry, growling-like noise from Lucifer. You grabbed his hand, squeezing it in an attempt to calm him down which only partially worked.

"There's no way this little guy is Hell's king! He's so fucking short. I really thought you had better standards in who you date, babe."

"Fuck you." You hissed, anger bubbling up inside of you as you felt yourself slipping into your more demonic form. "He's certainly better than you ever were." By now the other inhabitants of the hotel had gathered around, some more entertained than anything, while others, particularly Vaggie, were preparing for the brawl that was surely about to happen.

"Woah! Look at the time." Charlie intervened. "It's getting pretty late, why don't we all start heading to bed?" You responded only by turning around and heading towards your room, in desperate need of calming yourself down. Lucifer followed behind you, the walk to your room quiet with no words spoken.

You opened your door, nearly throwing it open in your still-present anger, before flopping down onto the bed with a loud, frustrated groan. You looked to the side, taking notice of the way Lucifer refused to look at you, his arms crossed.

"Honey?" No answer. "Love?" No answer, yet again. "Luci?" That did the trick. He always melted whenever you called him that.

"Your ex is fucking annoying."

You let out a small chuckle at his bluntness, a smile making its way onto your face. "They are, Luci. That's why they're my ex." You sat up, pulling him down onto the bed with you, kissing him, causing both of you to relax, some built-up tension leaving.

"You're all mine, aren't you?" He questioned, already knowing your answer. "Mine to love. Mine to claim." His mouth moved to your neck, sharp teeth grazing the skin, and you let out a soft moan as he began to nibble and kiss at the skin, his teeth leaving a mark you were sure he'd take pride in.

Your head fell to the side, giving him more access to your neck as you took his hat off, throwing it to the side, your fingers running through his hair as he continued to mark you.

"I'm going to ruin you for anyone else. You'll only ever want me." He whispered, lips returning to yours in a fervent kiss. Your lips remained locked together, only occasionally parting for a few seconds so you could help rid each other of the clothes that separated you from what you both craved.

He moved between your legs, the tip of his hardened cock teasing at your wet entrance. Usually, you two would've done more before the main act, but you two were more than ready to indulge in the other right now.

"Don't be a tease, Lucifer." You purred, spreading your legs wider. "Can't you feel how wet I am? How ready I am for you to fuck me senseless?"

He smirked before finally slipping in, biting his lip to prevent an almost embarrassingly loud moan that threatened to surface at the way you felt wrapped around him. He has been in heaven before, and he could say with confidence that being deep inside of you felt better than anything his former home could've offered him.

He began to thrust, his pace starting slow, still teasing you. He wanted you to beg, and you already knew it.

"Faster, harder, please, Lucifer—" You pleaded, giving in to what he wanted from you. "I know you want to pound me into this bed, Lucifer—Ah! Fuck!—" His pace sped up, and the sound of hips meeting yours in rapid succession filled the room. "Fuckfuckfuck–yes!"

"You always feel so fucking good." He growled, wings slipping out as he lost himself in the ecstasy that was your pussy. You ran your fingers through the red and white feathers, and he let out a pleasured whine at the feeling. His wings had always been sensitive.

"Fuck me—Let them all know I'm yours!" You cried out, losing yourself in the feeling of his cock fucking you with quick, deep strokes. You gripped the sheets in your hands, back arching as he angled himself just right, hitting your sweet spot head on.

"Mine. Mine to ruin, mine to fuck, and mine to fill up. All mine." His hands found yours, pinning them down against the bed as he began to fuck you even harder, his climax nearing. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.

"I'm gonna cum–You're going to make me cum so hard–"

"Then fucking do it." He demanded with a growl. "Cum around my cock like the little slut you are for me." You came around him, cunt spasming as your orgasm coursed through you. Lucifer's wings fluttered as he followed you soon after, filling you up with his hot cum.

You pulled him down into a sweet kiss once your climax subsided, cupping his face in your hands. God, you loved him more than anything. The kiss ended after a good moment, leaving you both to bask in your shared, post-coital bliss.

"You lost a few feathers," You observed with a giggle, holding one up. He chuckled warmly, lying beside you. You rested your head on his chest, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. You'd have to deal with your ex in the morning, but for now, you were both satisfied with knowing that you were entirely Lucifer's, and that's how you'd always want it to be.

[sublimitymp3]

Do you, brother?

Pairing ✵ Aegon Targaryen/Younger sister!reader

Warnings ✵ Hotd season 2 spoilers, incest, swearing, smut (Dub-con, p in v, fingering, choking, slight breeding kink), mentions of death, mentions of child loss, descriptions of birth, and heavy themes

Word count ✵ 2.6k

Summary ✵ The death of your son leaves behind a shadow upon everything, and after an overwhelming funeral procession for him, your evasive brother finally comes to you in the night.

Jaehaerys

Your little boy. Jae-hae-rys. The syllables roll off your tongue in a smooth manner, as they always have done. Sweet Jaehaerys. The very thought of the name conjures memories in your mind of the day you labored him and his twin into the world, screaming and writhing in pain as you felt as though you were being torn apart at the seams. He was a small, splotchy babe, who exited you covered in blood and wailing and squirming in the maester's arms. But even through your delirium and searing pain, you knew then what love was.

He was a precocious boy, eager to learn and to explore the world. "He has the makings of a very fine king," you recall your grandfather telling you once. The thought of Jaehaerys on that throne made your stomach feel uneasy, and the words loomed over you, lingering in the back of your mind and refusing to leave.

Even now it still lingers.

The once dreadful notion has been reduced to a silly daydream, for Jaehaerys will never be king. He will never grow, never explore the world, never ride his dragon, and you will never cradle him in your arms again.

It feels wrong to carry on. It feels wrong to do much of anything with the knowledge that your sweet Jaehaerys will exist only in memory now. Your mother tries to console you, to hug you in her cold arms, but you do not want her now. After all, what does she know about losing a child? The funeral procession your grandfather insisted on felt even more wrong than anything else.

Your son, the martyr.

Hundreds of the smallfolk clambered over each other to catch a glimpse of your little boy, and you. Your tears bought their sympathy and a new resentment for Rhaenyra, but it mattered little to you. They had sewn his head back on, you saw. It was an ugly sight, where black thread met severed skin.

Jaehaerys

How you longed to climb over to the cart carrying his body just so you could hold your boy one last time, but your mother's steadying and sobering grip on your knee kept you from doing so. "Deepest sympathies, my queen!" "Curse Rhaenyra!" "We love you, our queen!" Their shouts of support felt more like a ringing in your ear than anything. You didn't want this. You only wanted everything to be quiet.

You had a headache and felt nothing but exhaustion, and you couldn't even bring yourself to weep any longer. It was as if you were wrung dry. You cursed under your breath at the seemingly endless flights of stairs in the Red Keep, for all you wanted to do was to go and lay in bed. But then you saw him. First, you saw his hair, hair much like yours, only it was messily cropped short. Next was his eyes, violet in color and mirrors of your own. The scowl upon his handsome face, well, you didn't care for it, but you couldn't pry your eyes away. You found yourselves gawking at each other on the stairwell, and only then did you remember how much Jaehaerys looked like Aegon.

"Your grace, I-" Is all you can say before Aegon quickly turns away from you and hurries down the steps. You stand there, watching as the head of silver hair swiftly disappears from your line of sight. You snap your mouth close, pressing your lips into a firm line and continuing up the stairs. 'Foolish girl, when has he ever confronted anything in his life?' you cannot help but think.

You don't see your husband for around two weeks. Fleeting glimpses in the hallways, mentions of him from your mother, and murmurs about the king from the courtiers are all you have of him during that time.

As you prepare yourself for bed, you try to banish all thoughts of him from your mind to get some semblance of much-needed sleep. The nights seemed so long and torturous now, and yet you hardly could find sleep no matter what you did. Tonight was the first night in what seemed like centuries that you finally felt tired, and you wasted no time settling into bed to drift into a slumber.

You dream odd things, nonsensical things you'll forget when you wake, mostly. And even more odd, you begin to dream of Aegon. Of his strangely soft hands on you, of him pushing your nightdress up to your hips, and of him maneuvering you onto your back. It feels real, but you know it isn't. He won't come near you, no, not now. But even your mind begins to suggest otherwise.

With an irritated whine, you feel yourself being pulled from your sleep. It is only when you open your eyes to curse at what you assumed was a maid disturbing you, that your assumptions are quickly proven wrong.

Aegon is on top of you, staring unblinkingly into your eyes. Salty, hot tears drip from him onto your face, and his hand clamps down over your mouth before you can question him. You must make a face unwittingly, for he begins to speak,

"Shh, shh, it's alright, it's just me...just me," Aegon soothes, and you smell the wine on his warm breath. He's drunk. Or at the very least near drunk. "I-I am sorry, sorry for you, sorry for our boy. Oh, my poor son," his words are ever so slightly slurred, and he retracts himself to sit on the edge of the bed and weep in his drunken stupor.

You sit up, a bit startled to discover your nightgown bunched up by your hips. Your smallclothes were even pulled down a bit, but not fully. You realize now what he was attempting to do, and you can only sit in a tense silence with him. "He was my son too, you know," he mumbles like a petulant child, once he catches a glimpse of your resentful face.

"I grieve him just as much as you, mayhaps even more. He was my heir, my only heir," his words linger in the stagnant air, not sitting well with you. His gaze unnerves you even more, staring at you expectantly. The implications in his voice are clear to you; he means to beget another heir.

"Take another wife then, I am tired," The brazen words escape you (before you can think) in a whisper, and you lay back down, wasting no time to turn your back to him. "I don't want to again, I can't again. No more, Aegon." and you close your eyes, letting your tears roll down the side of the face.

You refuse to subject yourself to it all over again. To the aches, the uncomfortable swell of your belly, and the terrible pain birth brought. You know what it will all end in. It's a deep knowledge that has burrowed itself between your bones, embedded itself in your brain, and wrapped around your heart.

The Stranger will come for you all, surely.

The bed dips again as he shifts himself closer to you, and he grabs your shoulder in a bruising grip to turn you onto your back. His face gets so close to yours that the tip of his nose nudges your own, and you feel his warm breath fanning against your lips.

"I wasn't asking what you thought of it. You're my wife, my little sister. You were born for me to have. A king needs an heir, surely you understand that? You're not a stupid girl," he brushes his thumb against your bottom lip, mockingly, almost.

He manages to wedge himself between your thighs, and you feel his wandering fingers pull down your smallclothes. "Aegon-" "Don't say a word, don't say a damn thing," he interrupts, irritated by your unwilling mood. "Wouldn't it be nice to have another little babe to rock in your arms? Hm? We'll make more, yes? Enough to fill this fucking castle," Aegon grunts, pushing his fingers past your folds. A whine involuntarily escapes you at the invasive feeling, and even more so as he pumps his fingers in and out.

In and out, in and out, in and out.

You feel your body give into his ministrations and get wet. 'Betrayal,' you think. A pleased hum escapes from him as you leak onto his fingers, and you feel your cheeks burn with shame. This isn't right. No, no after what has happened.

"You weep down here too, did you know, sweet sister?" He mumbles, pulling his fingers out of you just to drag them along your dripping folds. A shiver runs up your spine at his actions, forcing you to bite your tongue to muffle any noises. You don't want him to hear you. You don't want to give him that satisfaction.

He fully retracts his fingers, and you know what is next. He undresses himself quickly, untying his breeches and tunic with a practiced speed before pulling your nightdress off of you, leaving you vulnerable and cold. He chuckles at your little shivers and the way you wrap your arms around yourself protectively. "Shh, do not worry, you'll be warm soon enough," he laughs as if this is a lighthearted moment between two lovers. Your stomach churns slightly.

"You're so beautiful, you know. I've never thought otherwise. So pretty like this, all for me," he whispers against the shell of your ear as he lines himself up with your cunt.

The burning stretch of the intrusion is what you feel first. It has been long since he bedded you, and your body had forgotten the feel of him. "F-Fuck, how are you so tight? Like you're trying to squeeze me to death," he groans against your neck, before suckling bruises into your soft skin. He bottoms out completely, and you feel his tip brushing against your sweet spot.

It's overwhelming for you. It's too much. You close your eyes and let your mind drift to happier days. Days long before you called Aegon husband, days when you would play with your sister by your mother's skirts. Days when the most daunting task was getting out of bed or letting the maids bathe you. It almost brings a smile to your face. Almost.

Your blissful daydreams and nostalgia are interrupted by Aegon gently slapping your cheek repeatedly, rudely reminding you of where you are now. "Hey, hello, where are you? Look at me, for fucks sake," he grumbles, slowing his thrusts you only now are noticing. He grips your face in his hands, forcing you to stare into his familiar violet eyes.

It's cruel to have to stare into your own eyes while this happens, you think.

"Don't do that again. Think of me," he whispers against your lips, his voice a bit shaky and heavy with lust. "Only me, and this."

His thrusts resume, and his lips are soon pressed against yours. He kisses you with a greedy, bruising force as if he's trying to devour you whole.

"Messy girl," he muses as he wipes drool off your chin with his thumb, and the action is oddly tender to you. The tip of his cock keeps brushing against your sweet spot, making your mind turn to mush and your legs turn to jelly.

You hate how Aegon has this talent to make your resolve slip with only a few touches and kisses. You could be upset with him for weeks on end, and yet all he had to do was hold you down and you'd soon forget whatever grievance you held against him.

"A-Aegon, brother, please-" you whine, even more so as he maneuvers your knees to press against your chest. He holds you down like this and the new angle allows him to push further into you. The sound of skin against skin reverberates in your chambers around you as he drives into you at a faster pace.

"Stay still, stay still. Quit squirming, don't you trust me, sweet girl?" He huffed, still irked by your light resistance. His hand reaches back down to your weeping cunt, and his thumb rubs gentle circles into your bud. The added stimulation makes you cry out with overwhelming pleasure, and you feel like your very bones are gyrating.

"There we go," he smirks, dragging out his words. He's found the combination that makes you fall apart around him and he finds it satisfying. "You like that, don't you? 'Course you do, sweet girl. You were made for me, made to take my cock and bear my children. You were born to be mine. Nothing more, nothing less," He groans, his own peak beginning to build up.

His words ignite a fire in your belly, and it feels so wrong. His words are mocking, demeaning even, and on any other given day and situation you'd have retorted and isolated yourself from him until you calmed down. But this night was not simply any other night. His words and his movements bring you closer and closer to the edge, and the coil in your belly tightens up as it prepares to snap.

"Aegon, gods, keep going, please don't stop-" you moan, lost now in the bliss of it all. You selfishly buck your hips against his, desperate for your own impending release.

"I got you, pretty girl. Go on, let go for me, sweet sister," and with his words, the tightly wound coil in you snaps. It is a white-hot pleasure that wracks through your body, and you feel as though you are floating.

You come to when you feel Aegon increasing the pace of his already rough thrusts. He is close, you can tell. You have no strength to tell him to pull out, to beg him not to finish inside. He's fucked you too good for that. Maybe that was his plan after all, you think.

"F-Fuck, I'm so close, sweetling. I'll fill you up, make sure you're nice and full with my seed. In nine moons time, we'll have another little boy, hm? Another silver-haired beauty," he pants, before his grip that still pushes your knees against your chest tightens. He brings one hand to squeeze around your throat, and you feel his fingers dig into the sides of your neck. There will be a bruise there in the morning, no doubt.

His movements are rough and fast as he chases his release, and soon, his steady pace falters and his hips stutter to a halt. "Gods be good," he moans, slumping over to bury his face into the crook of your neck. Spurts of his warm and sticky seed coat your velvety walls, a familiar feeling. Surely you will be with child by the next month.

Exhaustion is what you feel. Exhaustion, and a pang of sadness in your heart. Another babe you will have to labor into the world, another pawn in this war. Another victim of this needless bloodshed, as brother and sister tear each other apart.

Aegon gently kisses your lips, rubbing your stomach with his hand, no doubt imagining you are pregnant already. "I love you, I really do." He whispers, holding you close and breaking you from those thoughts of impending doom.

Violet eyes meet violet eyes, and you gaze upon his features that are not dissimilar to your own. The very same blood that runs through you, runs through him. The same blood that ran through your son, you think. You do not know what to make of his drunken declaration, and it is like your body speaks for you then;

"Do you, brother?"

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[ickadori]

hi i’m going feral over the dynamic w uraume, reader, and sukuna. uraume hating reader but they can’t lie and say the way she looks at now BOTH sukuna and uraume as if he were the night sky but they were thd stars in it… still, they say they don’t like her at all! annoying as she is.

even if she’s left alone with them while sukuna is out. and especially if she’s needy and wow sukuna isn’t here to fix it. ugh, uraume HATES her. totally for sure, no lie at all.

sorry it’s just such an AWOOOOBARKBARKHOOWWWLL dynamic </3

[cws] fem reader. brief mention of sukuna treating his workers poorly lmao. poly. this mainly focuses on uraume/reader.

Uraume hates you, sparingly.

There are days where they grow so annoyed by you that they fear they may have to bind their hands to keep from squeezing at your throat. But there are also days where they find their interest mildly piqued by you, and can therefore tolerate you more than usual — today is one of those days.

They stand quite a distance away as they watch you cling onto Sukuna, your face twisted into one of despair as you beg him not to make you leave (ever the drama queen). He pays you no mind, one arm keeping you from falling over yourself while the other three pack your clothes away into a trunk.

“Ryo, I don’t want to go!” Ryo. Tuh. The first time you had uttered that shortening of his name, Uraume had prepared themself to finally see you be disciplined. It was terrible enough that you referred to him as just Sukuna, but to forego that as well and address him by such a casual title?

They had been sure that you’d be sporting a bruised face for a few days, or perhaps cradling a broken limb if the master was feeling particularly slighted, but instead, Lord Sukuna had only regarded you with low, hooded eyes and a ghost of a smile.

“Your wants are of no concern to me.” Sukuna says, and Uraume vividly remembers him asking them just the other day if you ‘wanted’ for anything.

Uraume was woken by a dark presence weighing heavy on their chest, and their eyes quickly open to see Sukuna looming over them, his own eyes narrowed into slits.

“Yes, my Lord?” There’s a slight waver in their voice.

“That woman…does she want for anything?” Uraume glances to the large, open window in their room, the sun still hidden away, and then slowly turns back to the curse.

“I don’t think I understand.”

“The date of her birth is approaching.” Uraume has enough sense not to gape. The King of Curses planning on getting a birthday gift for a human of all things — how absurd! “She claims not to want anything, but you know how women are.”

Uraume blinks at the pensive look that suddenly takes over his face, one hand raising to rub at his chin. After a beat of silence, Sukuna focuses his gaze back on Uraume.

“If you have no use for your tongue, then I’ll gladly take it.”

“Forgive me, Lord Sukuna, I was just recalling what she had mentioned in passing the other day.” He silently urges them to continue. “She frequently reminisces about the fountain in her village and how she wishes she could visit it again - I assume it holds some sort of sentimental value in it.”

Both parties are well aware that the fountain has long since been destroyed; the stone holding it together having been smashed the night Sukuna single-handedly pillaged the small village, and the water, once so crystal clear your face could be reflected in it, had been stained a deep, dark red with the blood of your friends and family.

“Shit.” Sukuna seems a touch distressed, and Uraume balks. It earns them a stinging on their chest, their sleep clothes staining red before their skin quickly heals itself. “Fix your face.”

“Forgive me, Lord Sukuna.”

He ponders for a moment. “I’ll have a fountain erected in the courtyard. I’ll send her away while it’s being built - you’ll accompany her.”

Shit.

Construction was set to start today, hence why you were being driven out of the palace, and Uraume had been tasked with taking you away to a neighboring village until the fountain was completed.

Before, Uraume would have been ashamed of themself for seemingly falling so low in Sukuna’s graces that they had been demoted to a mere pet sitter, but the Lord saw you as so much more. He trusted no one with you, and had killed plenty a servants for so much as letting their gaze linger on you a bit too long, but here he was trusting you, arguably his most prized possession, in their care.

It spoke volumes of how much trust Sukuna put into them, hence Uraume’s agreeable mood.

“You’re sending me off to my death, aren’t you?” You blanche, eyes darting between the two people in your room, and Uraume gives nothing away as they watch you with a neutral expression. “They’re going to cook me, aren’t they?” You let out a harrowing moan, even going so far as to drop your head into your hands, and Sukuna regards you with a painfully patient look.

“You would have done well in the story telling business - you’re highly dramatic.” You go limp, one of Sukuna’s arms quickly snatching you up, and another one comes down to snag ahold of your chin and turn your face up to him, large fingers squishing your cheeks together. “Enough with the theatrics, woman. You’re not being killed just yet.”

“Just yet?”

“The two of you are going on a trip. It’ll be no longer than two weeks.”

“A trip to where? The afterli—!” Sukuna spins you out of his arms, and Uraume acts quickly, their own arms shooting out to steady you. “Ryomen!”

“You may leave, Uraume.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

~

Uraume had been attempting to pacify you ever since the two of you had finally reached your designation: an inn a bit of ways into the countryside.

You had annoyingly cried a good ways of the journey over, only stopping when you had fallen asleep on Uraume’s shoulder, and when you had awoken, you had stayed quiet as you sulked to yourself.

Dramatic.

The two of you were now in the bath, Uraume’s hand gently moving the soapy cloth up and down the expanse of your back. You were still quiet, something completely uncharacteristic of your usual self. Even when Sukuna left the palace for weeks at a time you didn’t act like this. Perhaps you really did believe that he sent you away to be killed…

A part of them wanted to pick at you for their own amusement, but another part of them was slightly…worried. A very minuscule part. A displeased you would inevitably lead to a displeased Sukuna, and Uraume simply refused to let that happen.

“Lord Sukuna’s business will likely be finished before two weeks.” Knowing his master, the man would ensure the workers hands didn’t stop moving until their fingers were worked to the bone - the project would surely take no longer than a week, at the latest.

You give no indication to having heard them, and Uraume rinses the soap from your skin, silently acknowledging just how soft and supple the flesh is. “Have you decided what you’ll have for dinner?”

“You mean my last meal?” You quip, and Uraume grasps the wooden bucket filled with water at their feet. “You have some nerve, Uraume. Bathing me and plumping me up before you drive the knife in. Just know that—ah!” You splutter as a wave of water comes crashing down against your head, and they reach around you to dab at your eyes with a dry cloth.

“I think a hearty soup would do you well. I noticed that your voice sounds a bit scratchier than usual. I suspect you’ll come down with a cold in a few days.” Uraume turns you so you’re facing them, and they pause when they notice the tears gathering in your eyes.

“Did he grow bored of me?” Your voice cracks, and Uraume tilts their head. Humans and their needless worries.

“You are a very silly girl.” You sniff. “We both know very well what has become of the people that bored Lord Sukuna.” Their hands move on instinct, thumbs flicking away the tears that slipped free. “Do you really believe that I would be treating you so kindly if my master had signed off on your death?”

“You dumped water on my head.”

“Lukewarm water. It could have been boiling.”

You laugh, a soft, breathy sound, and Uraume isn’t pleased to admit that they can see the appeal that Sukuna sees in you.

“Let’s quickly finish so you can eat.”

~

“Is it any better?” Uraume questions, careful of their strength as they push their fingers into the plush flesh of your waist. You had found yourself tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep, and once questioned, you had complained about a stiffness in your shoulders and lower back, prompting them to undo your robe and attempt to work the kinks out…kinks that they had yet to find.

“Mm-nn,” you sigh, cheek resting on the pillow as your lashes flutter, and they add a bit more pressure, oiled hands sliding up the sides of your waist, fingers brushing against the sides of your breasts, before they’re pushing down between your shoulder blades. “It’s…it’s lower now.”

“Lower?” They let their hands slip further down, thumbs pushing into your lower back and moving in wide, slow circles. They can feel you wiggling underneath them from where they straddle your bare behind, and Uraume focuses their ministrations in that area. “I suppose you are a bit tense - is this better?”

“L-Lower.”

Their brows furrow as they shuffle back so they’re sat atop the backs of your thighs, only for understanding to settle on their features at the slick sheen between your inner thighs. Uraume hums, a single finger moving to trace down your slit. You gasp, butt jutting out, and they tsk with a shake of their head.

“What a roundabout way to say you want me to pleasure you.” You hide your face into the blankets, and they allow their finger to push past wet, puffy lips to get to your clit. “Lord Sukuna instructed me to give you everything that you desired, and if sex is what you desire from me, then you will have it. There’s no need to beat around the bush.”

After Sukuna had first demanded that Uraume ‘teach you how to take him’, he had also given them the task of satisfying you whenever he was not around. You had only come to them twice so far - once at the end of your monthly cycle, a time where you could frequently be found moaning in Sukuna’s lap and pawing at his chest, and twice when Sukuna had ‘punished’ you by refusing to mate with you, forcing you to come to Uraume as a last, desperate resort.

You don’t answer them with words but moans, short breathless sounds that leave you with every swipe of their finger against your clit. Their free hand moves to a plump cheek, and they spread you open, eyes taking in the way your drooling hole clenches around nothing and oozes slick.

Their finger moves from your clit to your hole, and they add in another finger before slowly pushing in, silently marveling at the way your walls greedily suck them in, a low squelch sounding as your arousal bubbles up around the digits.

“Uraume,” you gasp, voice heavy with desire, and there’s a stirring in their groin that they pointedly ignore. They pull their fingers back until they slip out of you and spread them apart, your slick webbing between the two digits, and then they’re plunging them right back in. “Uraume!”

“Does this please you?” Their voice is breathier, heavier, and your ass ripples with the force from their hand hitting against you. “Or would you prefer something else? Perhaps my mouth?”

You moan out something indiscernible, but Uraume decides to take it as an enthusiastic yes, a decision that they refuse to dwell on as they push your thighs apart and lay on their stomach in between them, thumbs keeping your lips spread as they lick a long stripe up your cunt.

You gasp and twitch, and they let you move as you see fit, simply adjusting their position to keep up with you. Their tongue flattens over your bud, nose nuzzled against your clenching hole, and the scent of you nearly overwhelms them.

They venture up a tad, tongue now thrusting into you, and the heat of your pussy is enough to make beads of sweat trickle down their nose to mix in with your essence. They push in deep, tongue rubbing against your walls and curling up before withdrawing, pools of your slick collected and messily gulped down.

Uraume now understands why they so frequently catch Sukuna with his head buried between your thighs, hands keeping you pinned as he feasts on your cunt. Their master has never once eaten a meal they’ve cooked for him with such hunger and passion, and Uraume hates to admit that nothing they make could ever amount to the taste of you.

Their hands move to lock around your hips, your movements preventing them from mouthing at you the way they desperately need to, and they pay no heed to the way you sob into the sheets, pussy tightening around their tongue as you come with a breathless shriek of their name.

You relax in their hold, and they let their tongue slip from inside you, the muscle once again parting your folds to give slow, gentle licks to your twitching clit. You weakly call their name, and they pull away from you with a wet, messy kiss to the sensitive bud, hands going back to massaging into your skin as they struggle to calm their racing pulse.

Your soft snores filter into their ears a few moments later, and they observe you as they’re smacked with a new revelation.

Uraume doesn’t hate you, not one bit.

[drexee]

I’m dead tired but my brain!!!! My brain!!! It won’t leave me alone with these thoughts for Raph🥺🤧

So here’s quick sleeping headcanons for Big Red as I try to convince myself to go to sleep.

Bayverse Raph x gn!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, spelling maybe?

Donnie | Leo | Mikey

Raph Sleep HCs

His bed is large. Huge, even.

As soon as he was able to get his own room away from Mikey, he took advantage of it. He loves his little brother, but mannnn does he need his own space.

The bed takes up a pretty good portion of his room, but it still leaves a good amount of walking space for him

Raph likes to have his bed somewhat firm with a bit of give to it. Semi firm, semi plush. Right in the middle.

He has a solid two (2) pillows on his bed. One firm and one soft, both king. He’s a heathen who doesn’t care

His blanket is very large and used to be nice, but it has a bit of wear and tear on it due to the many years of use

He does have a throw blanket that he keeps around (which he knitted himself thank you very much) , but usually uses it for when he’s out in the living area and resting on the couch to watch a movie or something

Raphael prefers to sleep on his stomach due to his shell and him usually not having the care nor the pillows to properly support him and keep him from rolling over

When you’re in bed with him, he’ll have you tucked into the space in between the lip of his shell and the bed

leg hitched up in between your own and arm wrapped around your middle to hold you to him, his other arm tucked up under his pillow and head

Usually, he has his hand nestled closely to you and palming your chest,

He tells you it’s for you to hold on to because he knows you like to grip onto things while you sleep, but also it’s to reassure you (and him) that you are safe and protected

But also he just likes to sap as much heat from you as he can

And also you’re soft and he can feel your heart and he loves it but he never said that🤫

Another thing he really likes about this position is how he’s able to easily bury his snout into the top of your head and just breathe you in

He doesn’t churr in his sleep, but he does the moments just before and he’ll be nearly shaking the bed because he absolutely loves that you’re there with him, and it fades out the deeper he goes into sleep

He does snore, but it’s not as bad as Mikey

Raph has more of a light rumble, and it can sooth you to sleep, but if you don’t like it, just shake him a bit

He’ll huff but will readjust, pull you closer, and knock back out lol

He doesn’t move around too much in his sleep, may shift his legs a bit, but once he’s out, he’s out. Dead weight

And mans Is H E A V Y.

Yes, having his arm around you like that is very grounding and nice, but he’s NOT letting you go 😮‍💨

At that point he’s not even doing it on purpose

So please prepare for this and go to the bathroom before you get in the bed with him!

Otherwise you have to wake him up and you’ll have a very grumpy and grumbly turtle on your hands!

When you come back, he’ll wrap you up in his space even more than before you left

But it’s ok bc he’s the softest for you right when he wakes up in the morning and he sees you next to him!

Raph wakes up relatively early, but he’ll snuggle back into you and let the moment last a little bit longer or until you start to wake up

He loves it so much

And there we have it!! My very first set of headcanons!

‘Til next time!!

[gutsby]

Finders Keepers

Pairing: bfd!Joel x Reader

Summary: Something about the sun in Cabo San Lucas and your best friend’s father’s sweaty body makes you a horny mess. When you find an old pink shirt of his lying around, you really can’t resist. When Mr. Miller finds you humping a pillow and moaning his name, neither can he.

Warnings: 18+. No plot, just porn! Age gap, size kink, praise kink, masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, choking, and a healthy dose of Daddy!Joel. Yes, I need to be locked away in a cage for how feral this man makes me.

A heatstroke would be a kindness in these conditions.

Seeing your best friend’s father frolicking around on the beach with his broad, bare chest on display, skin coated with sweat, and his swim trunks worn so tight you could practically taste the outline of his bulge with every step? That had been your own personal hell for the past hour.

Naturally, you’d had to fake a dehydrated spell and slip off to your villa for some much-needed sexual relief.

“Damn you, Mr. Miller,” you cursed, crawling across the bed with your fingers about to snake between your legs, “Why won’t you just pin me down and fuck me stupid?”

You knew the answer as well as anyone else that this man was totally off-limits—being your best friend’s dad and twice your age and all—but that wouldn’t stop you from touching yourself to the thought just the same.

The bottom half of your bikini was brushed crudely to the side as your fingers worked a furious circuit around your clit. Your hips bucked, head throbbed, insides churned with a fire you couldn’t even begin to describe, and all you could picture was Joel Miller lying there, eyes trained on you as he slotted himself between your legs and fucked you hard enough to break the bed in two.

You slipped your hand beneath a pillow, gripped the sheets under there in a fist, and closed your eyes. Then you yanked the fabric between your fingers and felt somewhat confused—and surprised.

When you looked to your left and lifted the pillow, you saw an odd pink fabric in your hand. You let it go and saw that it was a t-shirt. A big one.

No fucking way.

You would recognize that soft, heady, sandalwood scent anywhere.

It was Mr. Miller’s shirt.

You buried your nose in the material and inhaled as much of that sweet, delectable DILF as you could manage. Wanting him in you, on you, surrounding you completely with his scent so you could pretend he was there in that king-sized bed with you.

Before you could think, you threw the shirt on and grabbed the nearest pillow.

Fuck, you felt crazy. But by God, you were free.

You straddled the cushion between your thighs and rubbed your barely-clad cunt over the seam, whimpering to no one and nothing in particular. You closed your eyes and dragged your hips along that spot, humping it again and again, imagining it was Mr. Miller’s fat, throbbing member instead of a pillow and felt a rush.

“Oh, Joel— oh daddy, fuck me, please.”

You threw your head back and felt every bit the loud and obnoxious porn star as you rode to your heart’s content.

Your hand clamped down on the headboard and anchored your body in place, allowing you to grind your hips even harder. The sensation was crazy—nowhere near as insane as Mr. Miller’s own cock, you reckoned, but good enough—and the longer you rutted your lower half against that pillow, the closer you got to climax.

“I’m so fucking close, want you to cum all inside me.”

With one more protracted, lewd moan, you squeezed your legs together and were about to reach your release, when a sound at the far end of the room almost sent you, your pink t-shirt, and pillow flying off the bed in a panic.

Glass shattered on the ground. You tried desperately to throw the covers over your body and hide yourself.

To your horror, you saw a wide-eyed, petrified Joel Miller standing at the threshold of the room—holding a bottle of ibuprofen and, just seconds before, a cup of water.

The red-faced father of two turned as though he were about to leave, then, reconsidering why he had come up there in the first place, decided to try and play it cool.

“I…brought you some Advil,” he announced, awkward as a cow on roller skates.

You sat up and forced a smile. Tried to pretend like you weren’t just balls deep in a fantasy of him bending you over a table and railing you raw and senseless.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The two of you languished in the world’s longest, and most uncomfortable beat of silence, before Joel’s gaze presently fell to your chest. He couldn’t help himself.

“Is that my shirt?”

You glanced down. You could try and lie, maybe save face in one desperate, last-ditch effort.

“Yeah. It just, uh…smelled,” you said instead.

What the fuck was wrong with you?! Surely the Mai Tais hadn’t been that strong to make you act so fucking dumb. But then again, this was your lizard brain talking, and there was no telling how weird you could get around a man as handsome as Mr. Miller. It was humiliating.

To your surprise, your friend’s father just raised his brows and smiled. A bit strained and uncertain, to be sure, but at least he hadn’t fled the room. You watched as his eyes trailed down the length of your body and stopped somewhere around the hem of his shirt, where the fabric gave way to your soft, bare legs. You couldn’t work out if he was intrigued or simply amused. Derisive, even.

Fortunately for you, you didn’t have to stew on those thoughts for much longer, because Joel tossed the pill bottle to the side and made his way over to the bed.

Out of shock—and utter disbelief—you leapt back on the mattress and tried to make distance, but damn if Mr. Miller didn’t have some speed in those old bones. He easily snagged your ankle in one hand and dragged your body back to his. In the process, his oversized tee rolled up over your tummy and exposed your lower half to him, leaving you at an angle you never thought he’d see.

“So I smell?” he murmured, braving a hand up your thigh.

You actually wanted to die. In a good way.

You quickly recollected yourself and shook your head.

“No! No. Not at all, Mr. Miller, I just…I liked it a lot, actually,” you stammered, tensing when his fingers started to trace the skin of your thigh a little higher.

“How much?” Joel asked. This time he almost looked stern as he watched you react to his hand making its way to your heat. Particularly when he rubbed the pad of his thumb over your flimsy bikini bottom.

You couldn’t hope to hide the yelp that crept up your throat when he did. You’d just been humping a pillow, a half a breath away from orgasm, when he’d interrupted. Your whole body was sensitive, to say the least.

At length, Joel made circles with his thumb and watched you squirm when he brought his touch under your panties. He hummed, feeling you drenched between your legs.

“Oh, darlin’, this is awful,” he frowned.

You swallowed a whimper and raised your gaze to him.

“W-what? What’s awful?”

Right before he answered, Mr. Miller sank two fingers inside you, prodding them gently between your soft, fleshy walls and eliciting the softest of moans from you.

“How needy this sweet little thing is for me,” he tsked, curling his fingers to bring about an even louder sound, “How pathetic and wet and horny you’ve been getting for a dirty old man like me. Must hurt somethin’ terrible.”

He had you there. You were greedy and needy and soaking the sheets like you never had before, dripping more arousal the longer he pumped his fingers in and out of you. You watched Joel’s expression change, and suddenly he was retracting his hand and bringing it down to his shorts. Those tight, bright red, bulge-teasing swim trunks that had been driving you buckwild earlier.

His erection was considerably bigger now, swollen with desire and leaping out of his shorts the second he yanked down the fabric.

“I can make that hurt go away, honey. Just lay still.”

Were you a victim of the world’s most vivid, lust-filled lucid dream of all time or was this actually happening? You almost couldn’t believe when the strings of your bikini were loosened and your pussy laid bare before him, shortly met with the throbbing head of his cock.

“You do want me to get rid of that funny feeling, right?”

You almost snapped your neck nodding so fast.

Mr. Joel Miller was going to take care of you—make that terrible, tingling ache go away with his dick.

Before you had a chance to prepare, the man was pushing himself inside you. Searing your walls with that thick, veiny member you’d just been dreaming of before. You couldn’t believe how full you felt, how fantastic he smelled, how overwhelmingly present he was to make you feel as good as you could.

His thumb was back at your clit, pressing light as a feather as he wedged his cock further inside you.

“C’mon, honey, let daddy in,” he murmured low, close to your ear as he sank his length between your folds, “Let me make you feel good.”

You whimpered and grasped at his shoulders, legs wrapping tight around his waist like a vice.

“Feel better than you expected?” Joel smirked.

“Yes, daddy. So fucking good,” you groaned when you felt his pubic bone brush your own. His thumb kept working your bundle of nerves as his hips began to stir.

“How long have you been touching yourself to me, hm?”

His question was simple enough but the hardest for you to answer in your present condition, Joel’s thrusts just beginning to pick up the pace. His balls slapped lightly against your ass, and his whole frame enveloped you in bed, shaking the frame with every stroke he gave you.

“Since— since the day I met you,” you managed in a breath. That breath melded quickly to a strangled moan when Joel seized hold of the base of your throat.

“That long and you never asked me to help out, darlin’?” his voice was almost taunting, his thrusts growing faster.

In no time at all, he was slamming into you full-force, hand still wrapped around your neck and lips curled into a smile. He’d never say it aloud, but he’d been dreaming about you too, as long as he could remember, from the very first day his daughter had introduced you to him.

It was wrong—he knew it just as well as you did.

But that didn’t change the fact of how good you felt wrapped around him, taking every inch of his cock as he pounded you into the bed.

“You’ll promise—” he paused to drive the head of his cock to your cervix and make you whine underneath him, “—to tell me, next time you have one of these feelings?”

“I will. I-I promise,” you whimpered.

“Good girl.” Joel kissed the crown of your head before he went back to fucking you rough.

You were almost embarrassed to say it was happening this fast, but that hot, euphoric feeling was building up inside you. You clamped your bottom lip between your teeth and willed it not to happen—not to make a mess of Mr. Miller’s cock so soon—but the sensation was stronger than you. And Joel saw it, too.

“Is my good girl gonna cum for me?” he grunted.

When you started to answer, you felt his fingers make their way to your mouth and push sharply past your lips. Made you suck his index and middle fingers as he fucked you and had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

And, to your surprise, he kept talking you through it.

“Keep fucking me, honey, keep milking this cock. You’ve made it this far—might as well cum all over me, huh?”

He looked cocky and self-assured—the same old Mr. Miller that you’d come to know and love. Only this time, he was helping you through an orgasm, all stretched out over his member and desperate for release. You dug your heels in the small of his back and sucked his fingers even harder, nodding your head when he told you to cum for daddy, cum all over this cock.

It was arguably one of the best orgasms of your life, getting pounded hard and fast while Mr. Miller groaned above you and shot his own load deep inside you. Unlike before, with that pillow wedged between your thighs, you actually screamed from the pleasure, bit down on the man’s fingers and bounced back and forth as you rode out your high in a firestorm of fervor and bliss.

In short, you were fucked-out and happier than ever.

Joel collapsed beside you, seemingly feeling the same.

You weren’t sure how long you laid there, or when those smug, cunning features first appeared on his face, but suddenly he was up—propped beside you with a smile.

That handsome, grinning bastard trailed a finger to your neckline and tugged at the neon pink fabric of his shirt.

“So…when can I have this back?”

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Agent Peña

Summary: You and Javi are unpacking as you move into your new house, when you come across something unusual in one of the boxes. Surprise, it's Javi's old tac vest, and boy, do you need to show him how good he still looks in it.

Word Count: 5.3K (I'm surprised it's not longer, I could write a thesis about this vest)

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no used of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) BOY OH BOY- unprotected p in v sex (be better pls), oral (m receiving), face fucking, mastrubation (f), big ole praise kink, creampie, cum play (ig??), soft dom!Javi (still being our consent king as always), Javi lifts reader up on the dresser and holds her hair, Javi's got a FILTHY mouth, THE VEST STAYS ON LADIES AND GENTS (gn)

A/N: ....Well.... Here we are. This idea has been rotting in the back of my brain for SO long, and I am finally ready to serve my time in horny jail 🫡 As y'all know, Javi's tac vest is deeply important to me, and it only feels right to support my namesake as such by sharing my deeply dirty thoughts of getting absolutely obliterated by this man in that stupid fucking vest. If you know me, no you DON'T, please do not make eye contact with me for the next 7-10 business days. 🤪

This can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!!

“Are you sure this is the last box?” 

“Yes, Hermosa, I’m positive.”

“Well, that was your answer 3 boxes ago, Jav.” 

You laughed to yourself, hauling what was supposedly the last cardboard box out of the back of Javi’s truck as you followed behind him into your new house. Your official move in day had finally come, and while you and Javi had been periodically transporting things from your apartment to the new house since it had been finished with construction, today was the last day on your lease, and the first day of your forever in your new home together. While you couldn't have been more excited to finally be in a real home of your own with Javi, you were much less excited about the 47 trips you had made in and out of the house, hauling boxes to and from Javi’s truck, and unpacking your entire existence into your new living space. 

You let out a little grunt as you set down the box into the mountain-like pile that had accumulated in your living room, Javi sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist as he planted a soft kiss on your shoulder. 

“You promise this was the last one?” You giggled, your voice oozing with sarcasm as you gave Javi a playful nudge while he held you in his grasp. 

“Promise.” He laughed, giving you a squeeze, only making you squeal and squirm even more. “Hopefully unpacking shouldn’t take too long, I’ll start moving the heavier shit upstairs and in the garage, and I’ll come help you down here when I’m done.” 

“What, are you saying I'm not strong enough to carry the heavy boxes? Rude.” You teased, spinning around to face him, crossing your arms over your chest, one eyebrow raised. 

“You know that’s not what I’m trying to say, you dork.” Javi sighed, rolling his eyes at your utter lack of seriousness in response to his comment. 

“I don’t know… Sure seems like it to me… I just don’t think that- HEY! PUT ME DOWN! STOP, STOP, YOU MEANIE!” You screeched, flapping your arms in hysterical laughter as Javi slung you over his shoulder, trapping you in the only way he’d figured out how to get you to stop with your never ending sass- tickling you until you were close to tears. “Fine, I- Javi! Stop! You win! You win! Let me go, you butt!” 

“Did you just call me a butt?” He snorted, setting you back down on the ground, smirking at the goofy grin on your face as you tried to recompose yourself, post tickle torture. 

“I would have come up with a better insult if I wasn’t close to almost peeing my pants.” You grumbled, sticking your tongue out at Javi, the two of you trying your best to keep from bursting into laughter again. 

“Will you just go start unpacking, weirdo? The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can go break in the new bed.” He smirked, biting down on his lip, his eyes looking you up and down with a mischievous sparkle. 

“Oooorrrrrr… We could just go break it in now and unpack later?” You shrugged, placing your hands on Javi’s chest, grabbing a fist full of the soft cotton of his worn t-shirt as you pressed up on your tiptoes and placed a kiss on his pouty lip. 

“As much as I want to,” He paused, pressing his lips back into yours, feeling the smile of his smug grin, “If we go now, there’s no way all of this is ever getting unpacked.” 

“Ugh, fine. You win again, Mr. Reasonable.” You frowned, giving him one last quick kiss before pulling away to search through the endless sea of cardboard to sort where each box needed to go. You reached down, hoisting up one labeled “bedroom” and resting it on your hip, pointing to the scratchy scribbles of Javi’s handwriting. “Look! I’m already going to the bedroom, soooooo…” 

“Osita…”   

“Fine, fine. You better move those boxes fast. Rude to keep your wife waiting like this, ya know.” 

“Will you please just go unpack, Hermosa?” He sighed, laughing and shaking his head, hiking up two boxes, heavy enough to make his biceps flex and the veins in his forearms incredibly noticeable. You could almost hear yourself audibly gulp as you watched him walk up the stairs, the muscles of his back flexing and straining deliciously against the gray cotton of his t-shirt. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” You muttered to yourself, in awe of your husband’s sheer broadness. So in awe, in fact, that you hadn’t even realized you had let your box slip from its place resting against your hip onto the living room floor, making you jump and startle yourself, scrambling to try and pick it back up in hopes that Javi hadn’t noticed. 

“You okay, baby?” Javi shouted from halfway up the stairs, peeking his head over the railing to see what had happened. 

“Yup, yup, totallyyyyy fine, all good, just going to unpack, nothing to see here.” You mumbled, darting down the hallway, eyes peeled in whatever direction was the exact opposite of Javi. 

Oof. You better find a way to become the world’s fastest unpacker. 

Thankfully, you and Javi seemed to make an unspoken pact to unpack in separate parts of the house to avoid distracting each other, Javi now working on organizing things in the garage while you worked on sorting all of the things that belonged in your master bedroom. Clothes and sheets had been easy to put away compared to all of the pots and pans you had unboxed in the kitchen before this, working your best to put things away as fast as you could with keeping the metal clashing and clanging to a minimum.

 As you dragged the last box labeled “Master Bedroom” into your room from the hallway, you were curious what kind of contents could be inside, considering you’d put away all of yours and Javi’s clothes, and whatever bedding belonged in your room. You spun the box around to each side, looking for any more clues, until your last turn, where you found “Javi DEA” printed on the upper corner. 

You paused for a moment, letting your fingers drum across the tattered cardboard, questioning whether or not you should leave it for Javi to deal with, or open it up for yourself. You gently chewed on your bottom lip as you internally debated, trying to rationalize with yourself before quite literally opening up a box into Javi’s past.

You had heard about the good, bad and ugly that had been Javi’s life in Colombia before returning home to Laredo, so you would be shocked to find something in this box that Javi really didn’t want you to see. 

It’s not like there was anything he’d be trying to hide from you in there, right? Probably just a bunch of badges and paperwork, anyways. 

With a little sigh and a shrug, you carefully ripped down the seam of the tape holding the box together, slowly lifting the cardboard flaps to reveal the contents inside. As you peeked into the box, you let out a little huff of relief to find out that your suspicions were correct- nothing but file folders, old badges and ancient coffee mugs with DEA symbols slapped across the front. 

You began making your way through the box, sorting its contents into piles for Javi to go through once he was finished in the garage. Even though majority of the items inside the DEA box were less than thrilling (unless you had a thing for reading 50 page long contracts full of legal jargon), you did get a kick out of Javi’s old badges, giggling at his grumpy frown that seemed to be plastered across his face in every picture he took from the time he started, until he retired. What cracked you up even more was finding the badges from the first few years Javi must have started working for the DEA, still sporting his signature pout, but with a clean shaven baby face you had only had the pleasure of seeing from the photo albums of Javi's youth that his father, Chucho, had so lovingly offered to share with you.

You gave the picture a sweet smile before setting it down with the rest of the badges in the growing pile, mindlessly reaching back into the box to pull out what you assumed would be more file folders full of paperwork. Except this time, you felt your fingertips graze against what felt like tough and worn fabric, dragging your hand further along the cloth until hitting a patch of scratchy velcro, making you cock your head in confusion. You scooted yourself over closer to the box, peering under the few manilla folders left inside to spot an army green strap popping out from in between them. 

Now very much intrigued, you dug your hand between the sea of papers, yanking on the mystery item to reveal a deep olive green vest, followed by a few crinkled pictures that must have been stuck inside it, gently fluttering to the floor in front of you. You set down the much heavier than expected vest to pick up one of the photos face down on the carpet, only to turn it over and feel your jaw practically drop to the floor and eyes bulge out of your skull. Because in that picture, was not just any photo of Javi from his time in Colombia, this was a photo of Javi, in the very vest that you had dug out from the bottom of his box. 

And holy fuck did he look hot. 

Frantically, you picked up another photo that had fallen to the floor, feeling your heart legitimately skip a beat to find it was another shot of him in the vest, his dark curls sticking to his forehead from the sweat soaking his skin and the light blue button down underneath it, hands resting on the hips of his dark gray khaki pants that left very little to the imagination. You flipped over one last picture, only to find the same, breathtaking visual of him in that damn vest, his biceps straining against the sweat-stained cotton of his army green shirt, the veins in his forearms prominently on display as he held the gun he was carrying pointed at the ground. 

While you had never seen these photos, or even known about this mystery vest until today, there was a part of you that was glad you hadn’t- the way Javi looked suited up in that vest had your head reeling in a way you weren’t sure you’d ever recover from, because Jesus Fucking Christ, it was the hottest goddamn thing you’d ever seen. 

Your eyes darted back and forth between the three photos, each picture somehow looking better than the last every time you found a new detail to drink in that made Javi look even more delicious.

Holy fuck.

You couldn’t help but let your mind wander even further than it already was, picturing what Javi would look like with it on now, the broadness of his shoulders filling out the vest even more than he would have the last time he wore it. 

You were so entranced, so lost in ogling at how attractive Javi looked in the vest, that you hadn’t noticed the sound his familiar footsteps trudging down the hallway, stopping in the doorway of your bedroom and watching you as you sat cross legged on the floor, hunched over the now nearly empty box. 

“Hey, Hermosa, I’m almost all done in the garage if you wanna-” Javi’s voice quietly trailed off as his eyes wandered, looking at the items from inside the box spread across the floor, stopping at the long forgotten sight of his old tac vest propped up against the cardboard.

He couldn’t help but quietly laugh to himself, simply out of shock that you had even found the vest in the first place, considering he hadn’t even remembered it had been living inside a box that hadn’t been touched since it was shipped back to Laredo with the rest of his things post DEA.

“Where the hell’d you find this? I haven’t seen this thing in fucking years.” He chuckled, reaching down to pick up the well worn armor, letting his thumb run along the seams of the rough fabric as he held it up in front of him, blocking your blushing and bright red face from his view. 

“It was uh- it was at the bottom of the box.” You gulped, trying not to stumble over your words, biting down on your tongue to try and keep your embarrassingly sheepish smirk at bay, Javi’s eyes now meeting yours as he lowered the vest from his view. He tilted his head in confusion at your clearly flustered state, reaching out his free hand to gently grab your arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your skin, his touch only making you more riled up. 

“Hermosa, are you okay?” 

“Yeah I’m- yes, I’m- I’m fine, it’s stupid.” You muttered, making no attempts to cover up your clearly blatant lie, darting your eyes away from Javi and shifting your gaze to the floor to try and hide your hot, flushed face, embarrassed that you were this worked up from 3 old photos and a piece of police gear.

But unfortunately for you, Javi knew you like the back of his hand, and knew all too well when you weren’t telling him something that was on your mind. 

Letting his hand slide up your arm and across your collarbone, he stopped at your chin, forcing your gaze back on him, giving you a smug shrug and raise of his eyebrows, silently waiting for your real response, the one he knew you were hiding behind your bashful facade. 

“What’s going on, baby?” 

With your eyes locked on his, thumb resting under your jaw, you had no choice but to swallow your own pride, the sweet dark brown of his glare coaxing your sheepish secret right out of you. 

“There were- there were pictures of you in the vest in the box. You look- Jesus, Javi, you look really fucking hot.” 

“That’s it?” He laughed, softly swiping his thumb across your cheek, still feeling like he hadn’t quite gotten everything out of you. 

“Well I was thinking... that uh- if- what-” 

“What, baby? Talk to me, it’s okay.” 

Oh, fuck me. 

“Would you, um, would- would you put it on?” 

“Put it on?” He chuckled, lifting up the vest, gesturing towards it. 

“Mhhmmmm.” You nodded, letting your tongue run against your teeth before biting down on your bottom lip, feeling a rush of heat rapidly creeping through your body. 

“Like, right now?” 

“Like, right now.” 

Realizing that you were completely serious about your request, Javi let out a playful scoff, running his hand over the back of his neck, almost as flustered by your ask as you were at the thought alone of seeing him in his vest. 

“Really? I mean, uh- yeah, okay.” Working in a quick and determined silence, Javi began slipping the vest over his head, pulling it over his broad shoulders and unfastening the velcro sides before readjusting them, tugging the flaps tighter against his stomach to hold them in place, quietly grumbling to himself. “Used to be able to pull these a lot tighter…” He groaned, flattening the last strap against the velcro.

As his focused shifted from his vest to you, he couldn’t help but smirk at the dumbfounded look on your face- the image in front of you leaving you so completely stunned, you felt like you needed to wipe the corner of your mouth to make sure that there wasn’t any drool coming out of it. Your brain was so short circuited, at a loss to form any sort of coherent sentence, the best you could muster out was a low, shaky, “Holy fucking shit.” 

“Didn’t know you had a thing for tactical vests.” Javi grinned with a devilish look slowing spreading across his face, seeing the complete and utter mess you were becoming as he slowly stepped towards you, the looming image of his broad body in that fucking vest making your heart race and your palms sweat. 

“Well, I- I didn’t, um, I didn’t-” You stammered, your breath trembling as you tried to respond, your brain going blank as you watched Javi approach you. Before you had a chance to even try to and concoct some sort of answer, Javi’s hand was back under your chin, fingers wrapped around your jaw with a much tighter and demanding presence than just a few moments ago, sensing the undeniable shift of palpable tension in the room. 

“Didn’t what? Use your words, sweet girl.” He rasped, teasing you with his knowingly smug smirk, his words shooting straight to your core, making your stomach flip in anxious arousal. 

You could feel your words bobbing in your throat as you swallowed, your tongue darting out of your parted mouth, desperate to taste Javi’s lips now barely ghosting yours, patiently waiting for your response, relishing in the needy mess he could sense you were quickly becoming. 

“Didn’t realize it until I saw you in it. You look- fuck- you look so hot.” You whispered, feeling his warm breath against your skin as he sucked at your pulse point, his teeth nipping at your neck as a ragged moan escaped your mouth. “Javi…” 

“Not gonna give you what you want 'till you tell me. I wanna hear you say it. Tell me what you want.” You could practically feel his satisfied smirk as his kisses worked their way down your neck towards your chest, each press of his lips taunting you, only making it harder and harder for any part of your brain to function. 

“I wanna- fuck- I wanna suck your dick. Fuck, I need to taste you.” You whimpered, reaching out to run your hand across his vest, letting it trail from his chest, down to his stomach, your fingertips grazing his belt buckle before a firm grasp wrapped around your wrist, holding your hand in place and stopping it from traveling any further. 

“Nuh-uh.” Javi tutted, rasping in your ear. “Be a good girl and ask first. Tell me how badly you need it.”  

“Please, Javi. Fuck, please let me suck your dick, baby. Please.” You moaned, sounding more desperate than you had intended, but fuck, there was nothing you wanted to do more than drop to your knees and worship him in the most sinful way you could.  

“Jesus, you’re so fucking pretty when you beg for it. You need me that bad, Hermosa?” Javi grinned, feeling you nod your head frantically, the hand he was holding in his grasp reaching for below his belt. “Okay, baby, show me how bad you need me, huh?” 

In an instant, you were dragging your hands down his vest, sinking to the ground as you frantically worked to undo his belt buckle, the quiet clang of the metal singing a song of sweet relief as you shuffled his pants down his legs before hooking your fingers around the elastic waistband of his boxers, tugging them down to meet his pants. pooling around his ankles. His cock sprung free as it was released, already painfully hard and weeping with precum as it slapped against his stomach, the sight alone making you lick your lips. You kissed the inside of his thighs, trailing your way up to his shaft in long, languid movements, dragging your tongue back and forth along the underside of his cock before sinking just his tip between your lips, swirling it in your mouth. 

You had barely touched him, but you were already so worked up that what had started as just a wet patch in your underwear had now turned into the fabric becoming completely soaked in your slick, leaving your cunt aching and throbbing. With your mouth still sucking and flicking at his tip, you couldn’t help but let your hand snake down your front, sneaking between your skin and the waistband of your pants as it dipped into your underwear. You let your fingers slide through your folds, before sinking them into your heat, your hips instinctively grinding down on your hand to find any sort of temporary relief as you fucked yourself with your fingers. 

Looking up at him with batted lashes, you sunk your mouth deeper down on his length, hollowing your cheeks as you took him inch by inch, watching his eyes go wide as you took the hand that had just been inside your pants back out to reveal the shiny slick covering your fingers, then wrapping them around his base, covering his shaft in your arousal. 

It was taking everything in him just to say fuck it right then and there, to toss you onto the bed and fuck you until you were begging him to stop, but watching the way you worked around his cock so needily had him so stunned, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but let you work your magic. 

“Jesus, fuck…” Javi muttered to himself, already feeling his balls beginning to tighten as your head bobbed along his dick, sinking down just enough to let the deep, musky scent of the curls at the base of his shaft tickle your nostrils. 

It wasn’t long before his hand was buried deep in your hair, his fingers cradling the back of your head as his hips began to buck towards your face, trying to hold himself back from full-on fucking your throat, until your fingers wrapped around the back of his thighs, bracing yourself as you gave Javi your silent nod of approval to keep going. Letting a low groan rumble in his chest, his second hand met the one already palming the back of your head, guiding you up and down his cock as he thrust deeper into your throat, tears welling in your eyes and saliva spilling out the corners of your mouth. His tip brushed against your gag reflex, making you dig your fingertips further and further into his skin. 

“Oh fuck- this what you wanted, Quierda? To get on your knees and let me- shit, shit, shit- fuck that pretty little mouth of yours like the good girl you are?” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, trying to keep himself together as he watched his length slide in and out of your mouth, tempted to let himself go and spill deep down your throat, watching his spend drip down your lips. But he knew he’d be kicking himself if he wasn’t finishing buried in the depths of your cunt, your warm, wet walls milking him of every last drop, clenching around him as you came. 

That was enough to pull him back to his senses, guiding his dick out of your mouth, the two of you catching your breath as you wiped your hand with the back of your mouth in confusion, wondering what had made him back off so quickly. 

“Javi, are you okay? Did I do something wr-oh!” You gasped, stumbling as Javi forcefully pulled you to your feet, manhandling you towards your dresser, your mouths becoming a mess of tangled tongues and teeth as your back bumped against the wooden edge. Javi’s hands were under your legs, grabbing you and hosting you up to sit on top of it, ripping your pants and underwear down off your hips and tossing them to the floor. 

“I need to be inside you. Fuck, I need to feel you when I fuck you full of me.” He mewled, reaching down to stroke himself as he lined his dick up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds, coating it even more in your slick before sinking himself deep into your pussy, flushing his hips against you as his cock bumped against your cervix. Even though you were already soaking wet, you couldn’t help but whimper at the sweet sting of how full Javi’s stretch made you feel, gripping around the shoulder straps of his tac vest for dear life as he began to thrust in and out of you, already setting a punishing, desperate pace. 

You wrapped your legs around the small of his back just under his vest, whimpering and moaning into his shoulder as your buried your face in the crook of his neck the lewd noises of muted moans and slapping skin filling the room as Javi punched into you, his cock splitting you open in the best way possible. 

“Javi, oh fuck baby, fuck, you feel so good, oh shit-”  You whined, your brain going blank, babbling between moans, already feeling a tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine while Javi’s hands gripped around your hips, holding you in place as he fucked into you hard and deep. Your cunt was starting to clench around his cock, pounding into that sweet spot inside you that had you seeing stars and screaming his name as you could feel yourself coming undone around him. 

Rutting your hips against him, the hairs at his base rubbed your clit, the friction giving you just enough stimulation to send you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a ferocious intensity, flooding every inch of your body with pleasure. 

“That’s it. Give it to me, Hermosa. Fuck- cum all over me baby girl.” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, his words humming deep in his throat as he fucked you through your high, his hands holding you in place as you melted into him, your body going limp as you came. “You gonna give me another one, Querida? Be a good girl and give me one more before I fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you for days.” 

You were so lost in your pleasure, you couldn’t find any words, simply nodding your head as you moaned into his neck, only starting to come to when you suddenly felt an emptiness in your cunt, Javi pulling out to scoot you off the dresser, guiding your feet to the floor as he turned you over, splaying your chest across the wooden surface and pinning your arms behind your back. Gently nudging your feet wider, you could feel his broad body looming over yours, his hot breath dancing across your neck as he nibbled at your ear. 

“You still okay, Osita?” 

“Mhmmmm” You whimpered, your body trembling as Javi’s hands ran across your hips, feeling his hard length pressed against your ass, wiggling your bottom half against him, desperate for him to ease the emptiness between your legs again. 

“Lemme hear you say it, baby. Tell me how bad you need it.” Javi grunted, now dragging his cock through your folds, teasing your dripping entrance, waiting painfully patiently for your response. 

“I need it so bad, Javi, please, please baby.” You moaned, rolling your hips and pushing your ass back on him, doing anything to try and feel him inside you again. 

“My needy girl. Shhhhh, it’s okay baby, I’ve got you.” Javi smirked, flushing his hips against your ass as he bottomed out inside you, the fullness making you cry out in pleasure.

He slowly began thrusting in and out of you, dragging his cock along your heat, each stroke punching against your g-spot, so wet that you could hear each rut of his hips as he buried himself deeper and deeper into your hilt. 

You were so blissed out, barely hanging by a thread as you felt heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, that you were resting your head against the dresser, closing your eyes as you felt yourself coming undone. That was until Javi’s firm grasp shifted from pinning your hands behind your back to sliding up your neck, resting his hand under your jaw and forcing your gaze into the mirror on top of your dresser. 

Your eyes locked with Javi’s, the reflection of him in his vest towering behind you as he thrusted into you over and over, watching the brown pools of his eyes darken with lust as he watched you slowly begin to come undone under him. 

“Eyes on me, baby. Wanna see that pretty face when you cum all over me.” 

The image of him was all consuming- His wide shoulders spilling from the sides of the vest, his dark, damp curls sticking to his forehead from the sheen of his sweat that had begun to pool in his brow, the wrecked look painted across his face making you weaker and weaker as you could feel the heat creeping up your legs and through your core. 

Reaching back, you grabbed on to the side of his vest, burying your fingers into the thick fabric for dear life as his pace began to quicken, his thrusts becoming faster and sloppier with each snaps of his hips as he felt your pussy fluttering around his length, watching you turn into a puddle below him. 

“I know you’re close, baby. C’mon Hermosa, oh shit- give it to me.” Javi grunted, letting his hand drop from your jaw to snake down your body, the pads of his fingers circling your clit with just enough force to have you screaming his name, clenching your cunt around his cock as you came. 

“Javi, Javi, oh fuck, fuck, fuck-” You babbled, your eyes practically rolling in the back of your head as Javi began to follow suit, rambling incoherently, chasing his own high. 

“I know, baby, I know. Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well. Fuck, oh shit- I’m close, too. Oh, fuck me- Jesus Christ, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh-” With only a few more thrusts, Javi was spilling inside you, his spend pulsing against your walls as he milked himself of every drop he had, his body slumping over yours as your chests rose and fell in sync, trying to catch your breath. 

Your legs trembled as the warm mix of your spend trailed down your thighs, only to be caught by his fingers, slowly dragging your combined arousal back up your skin before taking it and pushing it back into your entrance, languidly pulsing his digits in and out of your dripping hole, making a ragged moan fall from your lips as he nipped at your neck, softly sucking at your pulse point. 

“Gonna keep you full of me all night, sweet girl, all fucking night.” 

“Holy fuck…” You whined, finally catching your breath enough to speak before pushing yourself back up to stand, turning around to grab Javi’s face, pulling him in for an electric, passionate kiss before letting your hands rest on the worn army green of his vest, quietly laughing to yourself in disbelief. “Jesus fucking Christ, Javi.” 

“You okay, Osita? Sorry if I got carried away, I just- fuck, seeing how worked up you were, I-” 

“Javier Jesús Peña, you better not be apologizing to me for being the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in that goddamn vest. I swear to God, I’m never letting you take that thing off. Well… On second thought, if you don’t take it off I don’t think I will ever be productive ever again because holy shit.” 

The two of you couldn’t help but laugh to yourselves as Javi wrapped his arms around your waist, his thumbs tracing soft circles against the bare skin of your hips, looking out at the scattered sea of pants and underwear on the floor that had been quickly left behind during your horny antics. 

“Well, if you let me take it off,” Javi grinned, pressing a chast kiss on your cheek and then peppering them towards your lips, “then we can go take a shower to clean up,” he paused again, feeling his smile against your mouth, “we can go break in the bed, and I can return your little favor from earlier since someone was too eager to get dicked down to let me.” 

“Oh, shut up, can you blame me? Don’t have to ask me twice.” You giggled, raising a playful eyebrow at Javi. “Just promise me one thing, okay?” 

“Of course, Hermosa. Anything.” 

“Don’t you ever get rid of that fucking vest, Agent Peña.” 

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem

[sapphiremusings]

you’re how i pray | aemond targaryen

summary: lady baratheon does not fear her newly wed husband, prince aemond, anymore. she does, however, fear the consummation of their marriage. aemond is eager to show her that there’s nothing to be afraid of.

PART ONE

MASTERLIST

cw: explicit sexual content, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), overstimulation, breeding kink, ooc!aemond (i made him too sweet), baratheon!reader, no use of y/n

With the sound of their marital chamber doors closing behind her, trapping her inside the dimly lit room with only her newly-wed husband before her, Lady Baratheon– or would she be called Lady Targaryen now?– has never felt more nervous. Her heart is racing a thunderous beat within her chest, its rhythm only increasing as she sweeps her gaze across the large, four-poster bed that sits against the wall.

The thought of marrying Aemond ‘One-Eye’ Targaryen had once terrified her, and she had spent most of her time in Kings Landing avoiding him and anything else that had to do with her wedding day. But after the events that perspired between the two betrotheds just a few nights ago, she has felt as if she is burning from the inside out, flames licking up her sides and traveling deep into her bones. Recently, she had been avoiding the prince for a much different reason, one that is all the more unfamiliar to her.

She thinks of him constantly. In the morning when she awakes, lying among rumpled sheets with her aching thighs rubbing together, skin flushed from a vivid picture she painted in her mind, where he had bent her over the Iron Throne and licked her cunt fervently once more. During her daily walks around the Keep, holding her breath when she turns every corner, remembering how he had trailed behind her, heavy gaze searing into her back. At night, when she takes her bath, her handmaidens running their fingers through her soapy hair, and she imagines how it would feel to have him beside her, hands roaming her naked flesh as she admires his own bare form. Even in her dreams does he appear, lustful as he does unspeakable things to her, leaving her flustered and ashamed when she comes to.

Aemond hadn’t sought out her company since, or perhaps he had but she had just been too good at evading him. It wasn’t until she was walked down the aisle of the Sept, handed off to the prince by her lord father, that she had seen him since that night. His face gave nothing away as they gazed into each other’s eyes, hands clasped together as the septon spoke, but occasionally she would catch his single lilac eye dip down to her lips. She had wondered then if he has been plagued by the same thoughts, and now, as she stands frozen before him, she feels dizzy at the thought that he too wants her the same way she desperately wants him.

Goosebumps begin to form along her skin, now only covered by a thin nightdress, her handmaidens having undressed her in preparation for the bedding. She finds herself drawing closer to the lit fireplace, eyes lingering on the crackling flames. Aemond is quiet behind her retreating figure, yet she can feel his molten gaze on her timid frame, and she shivers at the familiar feeling. That beautiful eye of his seemed to always follow her, even when she was alone in her chambers late at night did she feel the weight of it, piercing and all-consuming.

She feels bare in her state of undress, the sheer fabric doing little to hide her shape, and when she dares to look down, she flushes red hot at the sight of her nipples, stiff against the cotton. Her arms come up to cover her chest, eyes flickering to the side to look at her husband, who still watches her, lifting his cup to his lips. She has already had her fill of the wine, a special import from Dorne that had tasted tart on her tongue, which left her with a clouded head and the urge to laugh at every little thing that amused her. By her fourth cup, her husband himself had decided she had enough, ending their night with the announcement of the bedding. Thankfully, there was to be no traditional ceremony, but it had still sobered her up immediately.

“Are you cold?”

His voice jolts her from her thoughts, making her turn to face him, her heart nearly stopping in her chest at the sight of him, closer than he was before. No longer does he stand by the table, cup in his hand, stoic in his leathers. Now he stands before her, tunic unclasped, showing his white undershirt, partly opened to let her catch a glimpse of his skin. Her mouth feels dry, and she slowly darts out her tongue to lick her lips, eyes trailing back up to stare into his hooded one. His iris is blown wide, clouded with the same emotion she had seen that fateful night, when he had ducked beneath her skirts and licked her cunt until she was crying out on his skillful tongue. The memory only serves to tighten a coil in her stomach, the very core of her beginning to throb incessantly.

She opens her mouth, then closes it. Her words have escaped her, throat parched and unwilling to cooperate. Instead, she nods, fingers tightening in their grip on her arms, still crossed over her chest. Aemond hums, dipping his head to nose along the crown of her head, hands making their way to rest above her own, dwarfing them in his grasp. His skin is burning hot, and the feeling of his flesh against her own makes her gasp out, her grip immediately loosening under his, giving him the chance to push her arms down, exposing herself once more. Hands run up them, leaving a trail of flames in their wake, before reaching around her shoulders and pressing flat against her back, pulling her frame against his own.

His lips brush the shell of her ear, breath steady along her cheek. “Let me warm you up, ābrazȳrys.” (Wife).

Flushed together, his warmth seeps through her shift, her nipples hard against his chest. Timidly, she reaches up to tug on his leather tunic, wishing to feel more of him, fingers shaky as she pulls it down his arms. He helps her, throwing it off to the floor, before immediately returning to wrap his arms around her, pressing her closer until she can feel every ridge of his chest beneath their undergarments. His lips begin to travel along her cheek and down her jaw, her hands finding purchase in his hair, the silver tresses feeling like silk between her fingers. In a daze, she searches for his lips against hers, chin dipping down as he comes up to meet her, searing in their wet embrace.

She wishes to never stop kissing him. His tongue is slick as it slides across her own, the taste of wine still lingering around the roof of his mouth, and she blames this for her faltering will, which grows thinner and more precarious the longer his lips are moving in time with hers, his hands gripping her waist tightly. A whimper leaves her lips as he brings a hand up to her shoulder, fingers slipping under the strap of her nightdress, tugging it down before moving to the other side. Her eyes scrunch up as her heart begins to hammer a racing beat within her chest, stomach twirling into a tight knot, and she breaks away from the kiss with a gasp for air. His lips move to trail down her neck, teeth gently nibbling the skin right below her jawbone, and she is quick to bring her hands to grab at his arms.

“I am scared.” Her mouth quivers around the words, her voice barely a whisper. “W-will it hurt terribly?”

Aemond lifts his chin, dark eye flickering across her worried face, flushed from the feel of him against her. “I told you I do not wish to harm you, little storm.”

When she continues to shiver before him, the straps of her dress resting along her forearms, he brings a hand up to caress her soft cheek. Her eyes flutter at the sensation, and she takes a step closer to him, now wishing she hadn’t expressed her fear. She is grateful for his tenderness, something she has never thought him to be, in all his harsh stoicism. A dragon prince, with the fiery blood and temper of a Targaryen royal, whispered to be as mean as the beast he rides. But his touch is gentle, and so are his words, filling her with a warmness that seeps through her veins from head to toe. Slowly, she lifts herself onto the tips of her toes, lips puckering as she embraces him once again.

In her movement, her nightgown slips down her arms, pooling at her feet in a heap of cotton. Aemond groans at the feeling of her bare form pressed against him, pert nipples stiff along his light tunic, and he wraps his arms around her back, pulling her as close to him as he can. Their lips move together in a sensual dance, teeth clashing and tongues rubbing against each other, and even as her toes begin to ache beneath her weight, she still tries to push herself up taller, wishing to melt into him. She brushes her hands down his neck and underneath the collar of his shirt, pushing and tugging until her fingers are scratching along the skin of his chest, warm beneath her fingertips. She nearly sobs at the feeling. “My prince…”

“I am your husband now,” he murmurs against her lips, wet with their shared spit. “I shall be addressed properly.”

They begin to gravitate towards the bed, until her legs bump the very edge of it, the furs and silks that line the mattress sliding across her flesh as she lays back, a whine leaving her as she becomes separated from her husband. He peers down at her, the black pupil of his single eye blown wide, until only a ring of dark violet remains. She resists the urge to cover herself, goosebumps lining the entirety of her as she shivers under his smoldering gaze, and she only hopes that he is satisfied with her. Back on Storms End, her septa had instilled in her the importance of pleasing her future husband, saying that if he does not find her comely she may never be blessed with babes.

Aemond squashes these worries with a satisfied rumble. “My perfect little wife…”

She shyly smiles, the arousal between her legs growing slicker the longer he stares, and she unconsciously rubs her thighs together. He follows this movement, hands moving to unbuckle his belt, lips twitching as she holds her breath, watching as he begins to undress. Soon enough, he is as naked as her, and he joins her on the soft bedding, sitting himself between her legs, which he presses open with a lift of her knees. His palms are hot as they slide along her thighs, until they rest on her hips, which he tilts upwards, leaning down with a pleased hum. Her back instantly arches off the bed as his nose nuzzles within her slick curls, tongue smoothing along her weeping slit, before flicking the very apex of her. A sob escapes her gaping mouth, head thrown back against feathered pillows, fingers scrambling around until they find purchase on the top of his silver head. Unlike last time, he’s quick to press a finger within her, hips bucking upwards at the intrusion, brows furrowed as her pleasure begins to swell over.

“I’ve been dreaming about this pretty cunny,” he grumbles against her, pressing another finger in, joining the other. She squirms at the sting of it, but when he curls them upwards, her hips still at the white-hot flash of pleasure that hits her. “So sweet… I could lick you forever.”

His words sound far away, her ears clogged in the throes of her rapture, and tears gather at the corners of her eyes as she moans. “Aemond…”

Between his tongue and his fingers, she can feel her peak beginning to wash over her, and she quickly wiggles her hips, trying to push herself away from his ministrations. He doesn’t allow her to go far, bringing his other hand up to press against her stomach, and she keens at the feeling of his weight over her womb, intensifying the pleasure and bringing about her end with a shattered cry. His tongue laps up her release, fingers still curling upwards against that spot inside her that makes her feel as if she is floating above her body, even as she whines at the overstimulation that starts to tingle across her. Another wave begins to rise within her, causing her to kick out her legs from beneath him, unable to stay still.

Aemond groans as she gushes around his fingers once more, tongue reaching down to catch every last drop. “There we go… good girl.”

Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath, whining as he pulls away, hands immediately reaching out for him. He pushes his two fingers into his mouth, cleaning himself off, before crawling over to rest upon her, his lips finding hers in another searing kiss. She wraps her quivering legs around his waist, jolting against the feel of him pressed between her legs, hot and hard as it slides across her wetness. Her arms tighten around his shoulders, pulling him down to lay atop her, wishing to feel him everywhere. When she thinks about him inside her, chest pressed against hers, lips locked as they indulge in a lover’s embrace, she feels an overwhelming sense of adoration for her newly-wed husband. His kisses, despite the ravenous nature of them, are sweet, and so is the way he holds her, arms slipping beneath her as he hugs her to his chest, their hearts thumping together.

“Husband…” she whispers, her lips resting below his, in the dip of his strong chin. “Please…”

His eye opens to stare into her pleading ones, nose nuzzling along her cheek. “What do you need, ābrazȳrys?”

She slowly rocks her hips upwards, the immediate friction causing Aemond to hiss, jaw clenching as his eye flutters closed. Her lips begin a trail across his face, stopping right under the leather eyepatch he still wears. It’s the only piece of fabric between them, and as she brushes along the jagged scar that peeks out from beneath it, she frowns. “Will you show me, husband?”

He tenses, pulling away with a furrowed brow. She flushes pink under his stare, yet doesn’t back down from her request, bringing her hands up to cradle his jaw. Her fingers slip under the leather strap, eyes searching his own, waiting patiently. It seems like an eternity passes before he dips his chin in a nod, closing his eye once more as he allows her to slip the patch over his head. The sight surprises her. A gleaming sapphire, broken skin surrounding its edges, glares back at her. He’s as still as a statue as she gazes at his wound, and it isn’t until she lands a soft kiss against the jewel does he open his eye, curiously. Instead of fear or disgust, she merely looks at him in awe, a small smile on her face as she brings a finger up to run across the stone.

“It’s beautiful,” she presses a chaste kiss to his lips this time, a hand brushing back his hair. “You are beautiful, husband.”

His eye searches hers for any trace of dishonesty, yet he finds none. At her words, he surges forward again, tongue slipping between her gasping mouth, the ache in his cock becoming unbearable as he ruts against her, hissing when the tip of him catches along her wet slit. Her hands scramble for purchase, resting atop his shoulders, fingernails digging into the bare skin. Thighs clench around his waist, trying to pull him in, and he pulls away to look down, the sight of him nestled between the lips of her soaked cunt the most arousing thing he’s ever seen. She mewls, wanton as she squirms beneath him.

“Shhh,” he hushes her, his hand going down to wrap around his pulsing length, bringing it to press against her entrance. “It’s alright, little storm.”

When he pushes in, she squeezes her eyes shut, mouth agape in a quiver as he slowly enters her. He holds himself above her, arms flexing as he sharply inhales, the scrape of his jaw brushing against her lips. The pain is slight, and her cunt is greedy as it pulls him in, her soft walls clenching around him as he bottoms out, until his thighs are pressed against her own, chest heaving as she adjusts to the feeling of being filled. Her arms wrap themselves around his torso, pulling him down until he rests atop her once more, trapping her into the soft mattress, hips starting to thrust in a slow rhythm. She presses kisses along his neck and jaw, tongue lapping against the skin, relishing the taste of him. When she begins to inch her hips upwards, matching the steady pace of his, he groans, bringing himself up to rut into her faster, hand going under the bend of her knee, lifting it to rest higher around his waist. She lets out a cry at the new sensation, his cock deeper now as he slams into her.

“You were made for me,” he whispers, lips brushing against her own, swallowing down her moans. “My pretty little wife… made to take my cock.”

A flush forms across her bare chest, the tips of her ears going hot as she whines at his words. She adores how he calls her wife, even as he drills into her, the sounds of their coupling echoing throughout the candlelit chambers, and she can’t help but moan out ‘husband,’ the word saccharine on her tongue. He seems to take pleasure in this, his pace becoming rougher, fingers digging into the flesh of her hips as he sits up on his knees, looking down at her with a dark eye. His sapphire glimmers as the glow of flames dance across it, and she finds herself attracted to the jewel like a moth to a flame, mouth agape as she stares into it, pushing herself up to embrace him again. She grinds down against him, the scratch of his pubic hair rough as she presses herself harder, fingers tracing up the side of his maimed face.

Under her attention, Aemond grows frenzier, ravenous as he thrusts into her, his strong arms wrapped around her back, pressing her close to him. She leans in to kiss him, their mouths slick, her tongue tracing the inside of his mouth, savoring the taste of wine that still lingers. Just as quickly as the last two, her peak begins to rush over her, her moans growing louder as tears begin to dot at the corners of her eyes. He gazes at her face, watching the way her brows furrow, sweat gathered along her hairline, strands of hair stuck to her damp cheeks, and she rests her forehead against his as she clenches down, alight with pleasure, grinding down so her pearl rubs along his navel. His cock twitches within her, and he releases himself with a shudder, keening forward until her back hits the mattress again, hips stuttering as he rides out their highs.

“Are you going to give me a babe, ābrazȳrys? Gonna take my cock every single night until you’re pumped full of my seed, hm? Ñuha dōna byka jelmāzma…” (My sweet little storm).

He rambles on, and she moans and whines as she lays limp, in a daze after peaking three times, her cunt still fluttering as he spills into her, the warmth of his liquid coating her womb. She nods at his words, arms still wrapped around him, sated among the soft sheets and feathered pillows. When he finally finishes, he lays beside her, his cock still nestled within her as he maneuvers her frame until she is on her side, leg across his own, fronts pressed together once more. He embraces her, and she nearly expects him to start thrusting into her again, yet he merely nuzzles against her, skin warm against her own. She has never felt happier, she thinks, as she gazes across at him, eyes trailing along his bare chest, flushing when she looks lower at the sight of his soft cock inside her. His lips quirk into a small smile, barely noticeable, but she basks in it anyway.

“Did I please you, husband?”

A hand brushes against her exposed breasts, fingers circling around a stiff nipple. Her eyes flutter shut at the feeling. “The gods have blessed me with a perfect little wife, my love. I wish to never be parted from you, or this pretty cunt of yours.”

She smiles, a wide grin that makes her cheeks ache. He leans over to kiss her for what seems like the thousandth time that night, and she meets him halfway, her heart swelling within her chest as she holds her husband close. Between her legs, she can feel him begin to harden once again, and her own slick grows as his tongue runs across the edge of her teeth, and she wonders how she was ever afraid of him; this handsome dragon prince who can turn his enemies into ash, but caress her with the softest touch and the sweetest lips. Aemond hums as she begins to move her hips, pulling back to look at him with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

“I think we should try again,” she gives him an innocent look, reaching a hand out to dance across his chest. “Just to make sure the seed takes…”

Her laughter bounces off the walls as he sits up, a devious smirk on his face, fingers digging into her sides. It turns into moaning, hips snapping into hers, and she becomes tangled in the sheets, blissful under the hands of her terrifying prince husband.

*

A/N: i know it’s been so long i am soooo sorry!!!! i kinda just lost inspiration for this lil two-parter, and tbh i kinda really hate how this turned out but it’s been like 4 months and i know a few of u were looking forward to this so… i hope u guys enjoy it nonetheless <3

TAGLIST: @jmablurry @minas27 @veggie-eggrolls @anthonys-viscountess @letmeloveyouuuu @bellaisasleep @blackswxnn @imaginativeworld @littybeech @m1sschanel @ozzeryyyo @beebeechaos @ka1afbr

[sqtorux]

omlllll i loved your kinky smau, if you still do fics can i request one that happens after sukuna says he’s gonna show us shibari? the idea of that from the smau just has be biting my fist oml, i absolutely love your smaus 😫😫😫

summary: after knowing your desire to be tied up, sukuna teaches you the art of shibari — a practice he loved since centuries ago.

desc: fem!reader, true form sukuna, cocky!sukuna smh, oral (both), p in v, dacryphilia if u squint, petnames, 1.3k words... somebody needs a lobotomy. spin off from this smau.

a/n: yes i do write written fics too!! just havent got much reqs for them. been wilding lately with nsfw content so thankyou for giving me the opportunity to write a full blown smut lmao.

you always knew you were bonded with sukuna in more ways than one. many centuries past could not keep the both of your souls apart. heck even the red string of fate theory seemed viable when it comes to him and you.

although as of the moment, the strings of the rope holding you together were very much physical and materialising. you kneel before your king with your hands tied behind your back firmly, staring at him through glossy eyes.

“p-please” your lips quiver, feeling the throbbing between your thighs yet you were unable to do anything since you were bound in place. sukuna only smirks at your distress.

“i told you i’ll show you how this works didn't i?” his gruff voice makes your cunt react, so ready for him.

he looms over you, gently caressing your face down to your neck and stopping abruptly on your exposed chest to admire you. you whimper when you felt his touch, so starved and desperate for him but he's not giving you anything yet.

his hand trails down your hips in feather light touches and hovers on your inner thighs sending goosebumps all over your body. you bust yourself up so that his hands land on your aching pussy but no, sukuna pulls his hand away swiftly.

“tsk so desperate f'me. aren't you such a lil slut” he looks at you in distaste making you gasp. “n-no ‘m a good girl” you sob pathetically.

“is that so? then be patient. good girls will do what they are told hmm?” he whispers against your ear, even the slightest warmth from him drove you insane but you said yourself that you were a good girl, so you could only nod at his words.

he smirks in approval and moves to drag down the soft fabric of his kimono. your mouth flies open at the sight– not one but two gigantic cocks springing out in front of your very eyes. your pussy clenches at nothing just by the thought of them being rammed inside you mercilessly.

you let out an involuntary whine which sukuna did not fail to notice. “lets quench your thirsty lil throat first how bout that?” his hand holds the back of your head steadily to put you in the perfect position to suck him off. one of him at least.

you waste no time to lick the precum that was oozing from his shaft. you felt powerful when you hear him grunt despite being unable to move any part of your body. you gave him another lick and he hisses in annoyance.

“open wide” you obey as he shoves his whole length into your throat mercilessly. his black painted fingers ran through your hair, fisting a handful of them and bobbing your head against his erection. tears well up in your eyes but you do your best to graze his length with your tongue taking care not to use your teeth.

“taking me s’well” sukuna practically growls as he stares down at you, brows furrowing in pleasure and fascination with how his dick moves in and out of your mouth.

a pool of drool runs from your mouth all the way to your jaw and the end of your chin, sukuna marvels at the lovely sight. the ropes securely tying your wrists together were now burning hot against your skin, aching to be freed so that your hands can roam somewhere, anywhere.

your stomach tightens as you feel your own pussy leaking, making you whine. the vibrations made all four of sukuna's eyes roll back in pleasure “m’close” his hand bobs your head harsher, his thrust becoming faster and deeper making you gag.

sukuna shudders, shooting his load into your mouth filthily “good girls swallow” and you do just that, savoring every drop of the sweet, salty and bitter warm liquid that went down your throat.

dating someone with super powers, or in his words a cursed technique, was fascinating because before you could even catch a breath, the ropes holding your wrists in place were slashed off magically and precisely.

your hands instinctively make their way to your throbbing wet pussy but sukuna's faster than you. he always is. “did i tell you you could touch yourself?”

you could only whine as your pussy screams in need for something to clench on. sukuna spreads you on your back and brings out another set of ropes to tie each of your wrists together with your thighs. his skillful hands work through the ropes, handling the knots with ease.

he was mockingly slow with his actions on purpose, ignoring your whiny pleas. “kuna..” your voice was small, so meek it made both his cocks twich. even the one you had just finished sucking off merely a few seconds ago.

he admires his craft — you, spawled open lewdly in front of him, exposed for him to see. painfully slowly he rubs on your sticky pussy, your back arching up for more contact.

sukuna chuckles at how desperate you were and decides to indulge you this time since you've been so good to him. he shoves his fingers into your entrance as you let out a yelp, squirming against his hand for more friction.

your thighs want to close themselves but the ropes prevent them from doing so. one thing about sukuna, he has more features than your normal person — two cocks, four eyes, and a mouth that could appear on any part of his body; and he knows just how to use each and every one of them to his advantage.

a slimy warm tongue licks your clit as his fingers demolish your g-spot dragging out screams of pleasure from your pretty little mouth. you writhe, unable to move as the ropes drag against your skin, your stomach forming knots upon knots.

“s’kuna!!!” you exclaimed as you chase your high mewling out incoherent sentences accompanying pants and gasps with every lick and thrust of his fingers.

“mhm come f’me little one” at his reassuring tone, the knots in your stomach become undone with your own cum dripping out from your pussy. sukuna's mouth on his hand licks you clean as you gasp for air.

oh but he wasn't done with you. not even halfway.

he fists his untouched cock coating all of his length in his precum, pointing it at your entrance. before you could even register anything else, he shoves it inside you and starts thrusting in and out.

“this is what you wanted isn't it?” sukuna growls as your cunt sucks him in, clenching hard on his length. “s’ fkin tight-” he rams into you, his pace never faltering and only increasing more and more and more.

you want to dig your nails into his back, wrap your legs around him, pull him closer but alas, the straps of jute prevent you to act on your desires. the only thing you could do was continue to let your hole get abused, forcing out small exhales of ah ah ah!s from your lungs.

“k-kuna m'close!!” you wail, tears falling from your eyes down to the side of your cheeks. your lips part and your mouth forms a pretty o. sukuna loves your fucked out cockdrunk face and makes a mental note to frame it the next chance he gets.

“nghh p-please…” you moan out, you're pretty sure the ropes on your wrist tied to your thighs would leave marks with how much you strained your skin against them but that's the least of your concerns right now.

“yeah?? then come f’me. come f’your king” his voice was raspy, his own oragasm drawing near.

a few more frantic trusts and white hot pleasure runs through your veins, blurring your vision as you feel him dumping his load inside you, mixing with the slimy ones of your own. it leaks from your hole, too much to be stuffed, overpouring onto the sheets.

you pant in exhaustion but sukuna was far from worn out. if anything he wonders how more fucked up you will be when he stuffs both his cocks into all your holes at the same time.

maybe he'll even try taking things further with the ropes and elevate you to fuck you mid-air. since you're so good to him, you'll take it, right?

[inknopewetrust]

𝔉𝔬𝔬𝔱𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔭𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔰

summary: in the blistering summer evening heat, you and felix play a little game. [felix x fem reader. WC: 2.6k]

warnings: smut. minors dni (18+ only). p in v, fingering (fem receiving), saltburn bathtub, slight voyeurism, dirty, dirty talk, some degrading language, not the dirtiest thing but still like… kinda hot?

Though the sun had set long before, the lingering scorch of the sun sat like a film on your skin. Its thin veil dry and aching to shrivel against the boiling water of the tub. You felt the sticky nature disappear under the trails of steam that painted the surface of the water.

A bead of sweat pebbled from your temple to cheek to chin to neck.

But you lit a cigarette anyway. And if you listened close enough, you could hear the crackle.

A blistering bud sizzles; the porcelain was drawing cool waves against the skin of your arms and for once, in the vast nothingness of the bathroom, the heat that rose from its surface made the ghosts vanish.

It made them disappear in house once home to Kings.

Now, as it boiled under the night sky, it was home to something other. It had bled itself into the walls and the ghosts wished to witness not the haggard scrounging of wealth that festered within.

But you imagined Henry the Eighth liked to stare as you bathed. They all did. Felix had told you that once a few summers ago.

How they all wanted to touch you in the ways that he did. How they wanted to whisper in your ear that they were better than him. No one truly was and it kept you crawling back with the poor souls who got sucked into a heated whirlpool of pity each and every summer.

Nevertheless, you envisioned Henry in the corner itching to touch.

They all trembled to flutter their hands onto your skin, onto your breasts, squeezing pieces of you dipped below the waterline.

If his ghost could smile, Henry’s ghastly teeth gleamed.

‘Fuck off, Henry,’ you saw the paunchy apparition lounging in the chair in the corner with a bead of sweat dribbling from his own temple.

Oh, envy, King Henry.

A bit of ash fell onto the tiles below.

“You’re making a mess of it.”

You tapped the cig on the side of the tub as another bit of ash wilted to the cold floor.

Felix hummed.

Stocky Henry vanished. If you gazed toward him, Felix’s eyes bore deep. Heavy and brooding, downcast at a peak of what existed beyond the bubbled suds.

Dinner had long passed. Everyone was supposed to be in bed.

He could feel you in inches. The soft skin of your back, the plush thighs that laid between his own. A hand of his traced over the skin of your collarbone gently as the ash continued to drift.

You were nearly on fire. In the swelter of the stone walls and the patterns of the paper before him, you glowed in a red sweat.

“You’re letting it die.”

“I was thinking,” you murmured.

“About what?”

“King Henry.”

“King Henry?” Felix’s voice peaked. His head leaned to rest on your shoulder, his smile leaving a trail as it grew. His nose drew a delicate line on your dampened skin.

You liked Felix in this way. So quiet and removed. But Saltburn always kept pace in the background.

“Yes, King Henry,” his hand glided along your own, gently taking hold of the cigarette and placing it between his lips.

The smoke of the puff rose high into the air beside you. It’s curls twisted like your insides aching for a touch too far but never too close.

“I like to imagine them sitting… staring at us now.”

“Now?” Felix questioned. “So erotic in an ugly tub. I can see him now,” he pointed to the corner of the room, “he just popped one. Can’t you see it? In his trousers there.”

You grinned. Your laugh filled his chest with a shuddering life. So fulfilled and free yet trapped in this same world as he.

And he was never far away. Here, in Saltburn, always waiting in the same shadows for the opportunity to strike while the others weren’t around. No sister or friends or parents or mewling poor fighting for his attention. They were retired for the evening; all snuggled in beds with curtains drawn and fantasy dancing in their heads.

“He isn’t the only one.”

You tipped your head to the side. The profile of your face meeting his forehead as he dipped his own downwards. The cigarette still burning from his fingertips. It was a mere bud now.

You could feel what waited for you on your lower back.

“I can feel that, you know?” You feigned an innocence he liked. Keen and blatant, but cunning with sin.

“Is it Henry that makes you feel that why?” You whispered, lips ghosting his chin.

Felix breathed in deeply. The same chest that shuddered with joy in anticipation.

Every summer.

The excitement would stir within his bones as the gates would open wide and beside his family would be the one steady thing he had everything to give.

“I hope,” Felix hushed, “for your own sake that’s not the fucking case.”

“So it’s me?”

Felix groaned as you pushed against him. The gentle pressure of your body arching into him without a touch, he begged to put his hands on you.

The cigarette fell to the floor in its end.

Felix took his hand and turned your head back to face him with a firm grip on your jaw. The water around you sloshed. It cleared the bubbles from your chest.

“I want to play a game,” he suggested in a dusty, breathless tone. “Want to play, darling?”

“Can I win?” You suggested. His hand loosened, letting the fingers dance along the column of your neck before beckoning up toward your mouth once more.

His index finger traced the outline of your lips. In a slow glide, Felix pulled your lower lip out slightly, gathering the wetness with his finger before inching it back to the space where your lips had parted.

You kissed his finger with your tongue as it found purchase in the suction of your mouth. The plushness of your tongue, the slight drag of your teeth as it emerged from between your lips.

“I don’t want to play if I can’t win, Felix,” you whispered.

His eyes now hooded with a thick want. He watched his finger redraw the lines of your lips again as you begged with doe eyes to win. A near child’s play of a woman’s ability to seduce.

“You can win,” Felix huffed as his other hand snaked itself from the edge of the tub to your torso under the water. “But I’ll need you to be quiet. We have guests and as much as I do love our dear, sweat guests, I can’t have them imagining the way I fuck you, can I?”

“No,” you relished in the way his hand returned to the base of your throat and squeezed with the slightest amusement. “I’ll be quiet.”

“Good,” Felix smiled at you. Your heart squeezed in the same way your cunt ached for his fingers to gather the strength to follow through.

“What do I win?”

“Whatever the fuck you want. You just have to be quiet.”

You smiled deviously that the thought.

“I can’t see how we’d be able to look a boy like Ollie in the eyes if he heard the sounds that come out of your mouth.”

His hand swooped past your center and to your leg, drawing one over his own which sat you straighter in his hold. You felt his cock jump at the pressure of you pushing on him. Felix flitted his finger tips from your knee to waist, switching hands to bring his wet palm to your breast while the other perched your opposite leg over his other.

The pebbled nipple was taut as he kneaded the skin in circles. He pressed down hard, pulling up on your nipple to elicit the sounds he wanted so badly to hear but knew you’d repress.

You were like him in many ways. He too wanted to win a game of control.

With you in his hands like a play of putty, he felt in control but with one hand on the wheel.

As he palmed your breast, his hand gripped your thigh. His mouth traced a pattern of hot breath along your neck as his tongue relished the salty sweat that had gathered at its leisure. The goosebumps that rose from your skin welcomed his breath kindly.

“I want this house to ourselves,” Felix moaned. “So we don’t have to be quiet.”

“Tell me what you’d do,” you asked him, placing your hand over his own and bringing his fingers to you. He cupped your heat as you groaned, guiding him back and forth to gather the wetness he could feel different from the water of the tub.

“Tell me what you’d do to me.” You spoke faintly. “Tell me and I’ll be quiet.”

You guided one of Felix’s fingers in you as he shushed the sounds that threatened to speak themselves into existence.

He put his lips on your ear as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you with a slow glide. So plush and tight, he thought to himself. It sucked him in and dared not to spit him out.

“I would fuck you on the floor,” he breathed out against your cheek. “I’d spread you wide and taste your sweet pussy as the sun bathes the floor. And when I’m done, we go to the pool-“

Felix pulled out his finger, tracking it along your folds before going in with two. You arched against his back, drawing up as he pulled you back down and rested his hand on your waist.

You curled the toes of your right foot down the edge of the tub.

“-we’d go to the pool and sit out in the sun. You’d give me head in one of the chairs and I’d paint your fucking face with my cum.”

You clenched around his fingers. His thumb pressed into your clit, another jolt aching to send you squirming but he held you down as he patterned circles on the gentle flesh.

“You like that, don’t you?” He breathed in the smell of you. “And maybe we’d go for a walk through the maze after dinner. I’d fuck you in the center and you could scream as loud as you fucking want. No one could get to us. No one would hear us.”

“F-F-“

“No, no, no, shh,” Felix shushed. “Good girls only win by being quiet, yeah?”

You nodded, clenching onto his fingers again as a strangled ‘fuck’ tumbled out of his lips. He could imagine the coil building. Felix wasn’t going to let you finish alone.

Felix pulled his fingers from you and felt the disappointment in the wither of your body.

“But I don’t want to imagine what’d I’d do if we were alone,” Felix blanked. “Turn around.”

As the water sloshed around you, you turned to wrap your arms around his neck. Like you, Felix had sweat beading from his jaw that glimmered in the red light of the bathroom. He looked intoxicated, entranced but in control of what he could.

“I want to see you ride me like the fucking whore you are.”

You weren’t a whore. But for Felix, you could be anything.

At the nape of his neck, you gripped the back of his hair and drew his head back as your other hand gripped him under the water.

Hard and lengthy, his cock was a welcome intrusion every time. You pumped him in your hand slowly. The sounds of water creating currents was soothing against the sounds of your battered breaths kissing his own. You lifted yourself on your knees, leaning against Felix as he squeezed your ass tightly, watching as you lowered yourself onto him under the water. Slender and veined, your cunt molded to him like art. You both would never tire of the feeling so profound.

It would never be like this with anyone else.

Loose pants left his lips as you sat completely full of him. A fit for a King in his own home, he supposed. Once you had settled with him inside, you moved above him.

The water moved languidly too. Meeting the fiery skin of two intoxicated minds too oblivious to see the peering eyes between the crack of a door.

“Right there, baby, right there,” Felix mumbled as you rose again and again, drawing him in and out as he stretched you with every swell and spur he could muster on his own.

“You’re such a good girl, darling. So good for me.”

You could peer down at him from above. Your breath fanning his face and lips but never seeking to truly kiss him as your hand tangled in his hair.

Bits of water spilled over the tub and splashed onto the floor. It soaked the ash tray and the speckles of ash and bud that littered the floor.

“Don’t stop baby. Don’t fucking stop,” Felix crooned in the room’s empty sounds. Only the pleasured sighs and gasping breaths filled the air.

You bounced on his cock with a measured pace. Each stroke of his manhood against your velvet walls lured him deeper into you, entangled with the missing links of a year gone by.

“Felix,” you broke the rules to whisper in his ear. He was taken away by the insatiable need of his rapture. He listened. He beckoned to your call.

“Tell me that you love me.”

From the shadows, Oliver Quick felt his blood run as hot as the sun. He loved Felix.

“I love you.”

Whom did not love him back.

“Tell me you need me.”

He was enamored by the idea of Felix.

“I need you.”

Who was enamored with the idea of Oliver.

“And what do you want from me?”

He was taken by the sight before him.

“I need you to cum, baby. I need you to fucking cum for me.”

Oliver was taken by the gleam of your skin. The way Felix’s throat bobbed as a strangled groan escaped his lips and the way your own melted onto his forehead in a silent struggle to come down from a high.

You placed both hands on his slender chest, careening like winged victory in a heated satisfaction.

Your fingers shook.

He had never seen a woman shake so elegantly before. The tremble of your lips as you breathed in shaking respite, the jolt of your shoulder blade as Felix ran a hand up your back.

Oliver licked his lips at the sight.

Felix lifted his head from its position against the tub. His eyes fluttered open as you pulled away in the slightest.

And Felix smiled.

You returned the grin with one of your own as his still sat erect inside of you. The bubbles of the tub had long ceased to exist and the water that was left was filled with the combined spent of you both.

“I don’t think I won that one,” you chuckled quietly, pushing hair out of Felix’s face before cupping his cheek in your hand.

“I’ll take pity on you, I guess.”

“The water’s gone cold.”

Felix kissed the inside of the palm of your hand. He cherished the high that lingered.

“The water’s gone cold,” he repeated. “But we could stay here forever.”

“Pruned and sweaty? Not a chance in fucking hell, Felix.” You laughed a bit too loudly. Oliver disappeared at the groan Felix let out as you pulled off of him.

You stood before him as the water dripped from every piece of you. Marbled and finite of the most precious carvings he only wished to hold forever.

As you exited the tub and the throb of him began to settle, you grabbed his linen shirt from the floor, draping it over you as it stuck to the wetness of your skin.

“The bed is just the slightest bit more comfortable.”

And you disappeared behind his doorway with call for more as the walls of Saltburn added another sordid story to add to it woven trims.

But it was never just the walls of Saltburn watching.

A/N: as always, the best gift of reading is likes AND reblogs and why not, we love comments too. Thank you for reading and feel free to check out my other works on my masterlist here. xo

[serpentandlily]

Untouchable VIII - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister!Reader

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court’s spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he’d eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on—with Elain, your brother’s mate’s sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that—more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst angst angst

a/n: Hey guys! Sorry I took so long to update this story. I got major writer's block for it :(( This chapter is short but I wanted to get something out to you guys. We're almost at the end though! One more part after this and then an epilogue <3 Thank you guys for all the kind words/support! I don't have a lot of free time so I'm shit at replying to your comments/asks but I promise I read them all and they make me so happy! Hope you enjoy!

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part VIII

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You stumbled backwards, away from the evil sorcerer who was hovering above the lake. You frantically looked at Cedric. “Please, Cedric, what is this?”

He didn’t even look your way. You kept stumbling back until you knocked into the hard chest of one of the guards. He grabbed you by the upper arms, locking you in place despite your attempts to wiggle free.

“I brought you the girl,” Cedric said to Koschei. “Now it’s time to uphold your part of the deal.”

You twisted to look up at the guard. “Deal? What deal is he talking about?”

But the guard ignored you too. 

Koschei waved a dismissive hand at Cedric, his eyes still lingering on you as if you were the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. "Yes, yes. You will have my support to overthrow your father."

"I need more than just your word," Cedric grumbled. "I'm not handing over the girl until you make a bargain with me." 

Koschei laughed under his breath. "You wish to make a bargain with me?" 

While the sorcerer's attention was elsewhere, you realized this might be your one and only chance to break free. 

You threw your cuffed arms up around the head of the guard holding you in place and bucked forward as hard as you could, effectively tossing him over you and onto the muddy ground. A move Azriel had taught you once. 

You ignored the shouts and yells as you darted off towards the wooded area that surrounded the lake. You couldn't winnow away, not while the faebane handcuffs were still on you. But maybe you could run and hide, buying yourself some time to think of an actual plan to escape. 

You darted into the trees, forcing yourself to run as fast as you could. The air was cold, making it hard to breathe but you pushed yourself forward. You could hear the pounding of feet running behind you. You chanced a glance over your shoulder to see the three guards chasing you but no Cedric or Koschei. 

One of the guards winnowed into the clearing in front of you, causing you to scream as you ran straight into him, knocking both of you on the ground. You rolled off him before he could grab you and winnow you away, pushing yourself to your feet. The guard snarled, getting off the ground faster than you considering his hands were free. 

"Don't you run," he growled at you. 

You took a step back. Another.

Rhysand! Help!

You screamed and screamed for your brother in your head, even though you knew he wouldn't be able to hear you from this distance. You were fucked. 

"My brother will come for you if you don't let me go," you hissed at the guards, keeping out of their reach. They were circling you like they were predators who had just found dinner. 

One of the guards scoffed. "With Koschei on our side, your brother won't be able to do anything to us."

"Koschei is offering his support to Cedric to kill the King," you shouted back. "Not to help Vallahan fight against the Night Court and its allies once my brother has realized what you've done!" 

That seemed to make the guards pause for a second, the three of them exchanging glances as if now just realizing how stupid the Prince's plan was. Mor knew you were going to visit Cedric. That's where they'd look for you first once they didn't hear from you. And you knew your brother would rain hellfire down on the Prince's territory to get you back. 

Suddenly a loud noise cracked in the air like two boulders smashing against each other, causing the ground to rumble. You fell, your legs collapsing, as three people winnowed into the clearing. You let out a cry of relief. Your brother stood in his fighting leathers, looking ready to murder with Cassian by his side. But it was Azriel who made you falter.

You had never seen him look as angry as he did now—it almost spiked fear in you despite knowing none of it was directed in your way. He looked feral, unhinged. 

The three guards around you were misted by your brother before you could even blink. Their blood rained down on you, still slightly warm. You gagged, rolling over and trying to push yourself to your feet.

“Y/N!”

You heard your brother shout but his warning came too late. 

You felt someone grab you by your hair, lifting you off the floor. You let out a cry of pain, your cuffed hands rising to grab the attacker by their wrist to get some of the pressure off your scalp. You were turned forward to face your brother and the two Illyrians just as the cold metal of a dagger was placed against your throat.

“Don’t move,” Cedric ordered and you realized it was him who had you in his grasp. 

“Get your hands off of her,” Azriel growled. It was dark and full of primal rage. You knew Cedric felt it by the way his body shuddered in response but he held his ground. 

“I don’t think so, shadowsinger,” Cedric hissed.

Azriel’s shadows poised around him like venomous snakes ready to attack. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your nerves on fire. But still, the pain of seeing Azriel fought its way through despite the dire circumstances. The image of him and Elain together was enough to almost fold you into Cedric’s embrace. 

Perhaps death would be a mercy compared to the anguish building in your chest. 

You focused on your brother instead. His violet eyes were hardened with rage, his entire body tense. “Let my sister go, you bastard, and I’ll consider making your death swift and painless.”

Cedric chuckled, his hand in your hair tightening causing you to whimper at the sharp pain. Azriel took a step forward at the noise but came to a halt, his eyes drifting to the area above your head. 

You felt it then, that dark presence. The foreboding. You knew Koshcei was in the clearing now. Could feel his horrid magic in the air. This was a powerful death god sorcerer and despite your brother being the most powerful High Lord, he was no match with a God. None of them would be. 

“Kill them,” Cedric demanded as he too realized Koschei was here.

But the death god did no such thing. Instead, you felt his darkness wrap around you, encompassing you into its hold. You let out a cry of fear, calling out for your brother. 

“The girl belongs to me now,” Koschei said. “Leave and never return or I will do more than just keep her as a little pet.”

“Why do you want her?” Rhysand switched into his diplomatic role, realizing a fight would not be won here today. “Whatever you need her for, I’m certain I can do it all the same. Better, even.” 

He was…He was offering himself over to the sorcerer in place of you?

“No, Rhys,” you cried out. “Just go!”

But you were ignored. 

“Unfortunately,” Koschei drawled. “I do not have a taste for males otherwise I would take you up on your offer. But your sister will do just fine. There is nothing you can give me for her. I don’t think you even realized what a prize she was—what sort of power she holds.” 

“Anything,” Rhys begged. “Please, I will give you anything. You want my armies, you can have them. You want my court, take it! Just give her back. Please.”  

You couldn’t believe the words coming from his mouth. Rhys would never give up his power, would never give away his court and his people. But here he was, offering up all he had for you. You had caused this. You had made the mistake of running away to Cedric. This was all your fault.

“Get him out of here!” you shouted to Cassian and Azriel. 

All you could think about was your brother’s lovesick bargain with Feyre, of his death leading to hers, of Nyx left with no parents. No…Rhys needed to get out of here before things got worse. You tried to convey your thoughts to the other two Illyrians with a single look. Cassian gave you a dip of the head in understanding, evidently having the same thoughts.

Azriel wouldn’t look at you, his rage filled eyes focused on the sorcerer that held you. 

“Anything,” Rhys pleaded again, surging forward. But Cassian gripped him by the shoulders, holding him back. “I’ll give you anything.”

Your eyes darted between the three of them. At Cassian’s look of despair and uncertainty, Rhy’s pleading face and Azriel….Azriel who was shrouded in his shadows, who circled him in a frenzy—his eyes darkened, his lips twisted in a snarl. He took another step forward. 

“Let her go,” he growled. You swore the birds in the clearing took off fluttering, as if they knew the sort of darkness that was coming. But Koschei let out a small noise of understanding before he chuckled—an awful noise. 

“What an interesting turn of events,” Koschei purred, his grip on you tightening. 

“Kill them,” Cedric hissed, slight panic in his eyes. If Koschei left him behind, you knew your brother would tear him to pieces. 

Koschei chuckled again, as if realizing the same thing. In the end, he would get what he wanted without having to follow through on his half of the bargain, not if Cedric was dead. 

“Say goodbye to your brother,” Koschei laughed in your ear. “And your lover and friend. You’ll never see them again.” 

“I’m sorry, Rhys,” you cried. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

Rhys fell to his knees, Cassian still holding him back with his lips pressed in a thin line. You felt Koschei’s shadows wrapping you up, spreading up your legs. Time was running out. Azriel stepped closer with another growl.

“I will kill you for this,” he promised, his eyes shifting from Cedric to the sorcerer. “Let her go!”

Your voice caught in your throat. All the words you wished to say to him with it. You loved him, still, even after knowing these past few months had all been a lie. Your heart was broken, stomped on, discarded by the only one you had ever given it to—but you loved him. You always would. 

He finally looked at you, his hazel eyes so full of rage but you saw it then, the fear. 

“Take me,” Azriel shouted. “Take me instead!”

Koschei laughed again. “Oh, but it is much more fun this way, shadowsinger.” 

His shadows spread over your torso, up your neck, nearly choking you. Tears ran down your face; you were gasping for air. You took one more look at Azriel. One more look at the male you loved with all your heart. One last look because you knew you’d never see him again.

Azriel met your gaze—fear and anguish written all over his face. And just as the shadows began to darken your vision, something snapped into place. Something gold and bright. A thread that extended from your chest and speared right into the shadowsinger. A mating bond. 

Azriel’s grip his chest, his eyes wide, as he stumbled back a step. You watched him realize it at the same time as you. Something burned on your hip and you realized you were feeling Azriel’s bargain tattoo dissipating. He screamed your name as Koschei laughed one more time, swallowing you in his shadows.

Azriel’s pained roar shook the trees of the forest around them and echoed all the way to the small cabin on the lake, where you were thrown to the hard flooring, still shackled and trembling. 

Koschei stood over you, his face a painted picture of glee and lust. He tsked, circling around your weeping form. Your thoughts were filled with Azriel. With your mate. You could feel his horror, his rage, his anguish, all through the bond. 

“Did you know,” Koschei purred, “that Cedric and his family are quite exceptional at illusions? The magic runs in their family.”

You were crying, panting—barely able to hear his words. 

“No, I suppose you didn’t,” Koschei laughed. “Those images of you walking in on your mate with that little fawn were never real, my dear. You fell for Cedric’s tricks and now you’re here. You’ll never see your mate again.”

Those images of you walking in on your mate with that little fawn were never real, my dear.

You hunched over, falling limp against the floor as sobs racked your body. You had lost everything, everything, tricked by that stupid Prince. You couldn’t breath, couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything except the crushing weight of your despair.

 And all you could hear were those final words. 

Over and over and over again.

You’ll never see your mate again.

You’ll never see your mate again.

You’ll never see your mate again.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

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[nixiefics]

Posses

Pairing: Robb Stark X Silent!Sister Reader

Warnings: Smut, posessive Robb, p in v sex, oral (female receiving), rough sex

Robb Stark winces as you carefully manipulate his leg, guiding his hip back into place with practiced hands. The sharp intake of breath that escapes him when the bone finally clicks into its rightful position tells you just how much pain he’s been enduring. You’ve been a Silent Sister in training for only a short time, but already you’ve seen more suffering than you ever imagined possible. Yet, this man, the Young Wolf, is different. His pain seems to ripple through you as if it were your own.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice strained but genuine. His blue eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you forget the vow of silence you took upon entering your order. You nod in acknowledgment, your fingers still lingering on his hip, feeling the heat of his body through the thin linen of his undergarment.

Days pass, and you tend to Robb’s injuries with unwavering diligence. His recovery is slow, but each day he grows stronger. You watch as he interacts with his men, see the respect and loyalty they have for him. He’s not just their King; he’s their friend, their brother. It’s a bond forged in the fires of battle and tempered by the fairness and justice he shows them.

Grey Wind, his direwolf, is never far from his side. The massive wolf seems to sense your importance to Robb, often watching you with intelligent, piercing eyes. When you approach, Grey Wind’s posture is relaxed, but the unspoken warning is clear: you are under his protection as well.

But it’s not just his men and his direwolf who are drawn to him. You feel an undeniable pull towards Robb Stark. His kindness, his honour, his unwavering dedication to his family and his cause – all of it captivates you. You’ve seen men broken by war, their spirits shattered as surely as their bodies, but Robb remains whole. More than whole, he seems to grow stronger with each passing day, his determination like a beacon in the dark.

One evening, as you’re tending to another soldier’s wounds, you feel his eyes on you. Robb watches from across the camp, his jaw tight, his eyes dark with something you can’t quite name. Jealousy? The thought lingers as you stitch up the gash on the soldier’s arm, your hands steady despite the intensity of Robb’s gaze. Grey Wind is by his side, growling softly, mirroring Robb’s protective feelings.

Later, as you change the dressing on Robb’s hip, he grabs your wrist, his grip surprisingly strong. “You spend too much time with the others,” he says, his voice low and edged with frustration. “I need you with me.”

You look up, startled by the intensity in his eyes. You try to pull away, but his hold tightens. “I don’t want you tending to them,” he says, his voice rough. “I want you by my side. Always.”

You nod, your heart pounding. His possessiveness is startling, but also oddly reassuring. It means he cares, that he values you more than you realized. From that moment on, you are always at his side, tending to his needs, ensuring his recovery. Grey Wind often lies nearby, his presence a constant reminder of Robb’s vigilance even when he cannot be with you.

The other men notice, their eyes following you with curiosity and a hint of envy. Robb’s attention and possessiveness are clear to all, and it changes the dynamic in the camp. No longer just a healer, you are now the woman who has captured the heart of the Young Wolf.

One day, you’re tending to a minor injury on a young soldier when Robb storms into the tent. His face is a mask of barely controlled anger. “Leave us,” he commands the soldier, who scrambles to his feet and exits hastily.

Robb strides over to you, his eyes blazing. “I told you, I don’t want you with them,” he growls, grabbing your hand and pulling you close. “You’re mine.”

You can feel the heat of his breath on your face, the intensity of his emotions crashing over you like a wave. His jealousy is raw, visceral, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You’ve never seen him like this, so consumed by his need for you. Grey Wind stands at his side, his eyes fixed on you, a silent enforcer of Robb’s wishes.

“I can’t stand seeing you with them,” he admits, his voice a harsh whisper. “It tears me apart. You’re the only one who understands me, who makes me feel whole. I need you, only you.”

You reach up, placing a gentle hand on his cheek, feeling the tension in his jaw. You nod, your silent promise to be by his side always. His grip on you softens, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. Grey Wind nudges your leg gently, as if to seal the promise.

In the weeks that follow, Robb’s possessiveness only grows. He keeps you close, his eyes always on you, ensuring that no one else can claim your attention. It’s a fierce, consuming need that drives him, a reflection of the depth of his feelings for you. Grey Wind is never far, his protective presence a constant reminder of the bond you share with Robb.

One night, as you sit by the fire, he pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “You’re mine,” he whispers into your ear, his voice a low growl. “No one else’s. Remember that.”

You nod, your heart swelling with a mixture of love and something darker, more primal. Robb Stark may be the Young Wolf, a fearsome leader and a brilliant strategist, but to you, he is simply Robb – the man who would fight the world to keep you by his side. And as you look into his eyes, you know that you would do the same for him.

One afternoon, you are out gathering herbs when a group of soldiers approaches you. They’re friendly, asking for your help with minor ailments. Before you can respond, Grey Wind appears from the trees, teeth bared, a low growl rumbling from his throat. The soldiers step back, fear evident in their eyes.

You pat his head gently in warning, but the direwolf’s eyes remain fixed on the men until they retreat. When you return to camp, Robb is waiting, his eyes dark with concern and jealousy.

“Were they bothering you?” he asks, his voice tight.

You shake your head, but Robb pulls you into his arms, holding you close. “I don’t want you going out alone anymore,” he says. “Grey Wind will accompany you, or I will.”

You nod, understanding the depth of his worry. His possessiveness is more than just jealousy; it’s a need to protect you, to keep you safe in a world that is anything but. You feel his love in every fierce look, every protective gesture, every time Grey Wind’s eyes follow you like a shadow.

As Robb’s recovery progresses, your bond deepens. He confides in you, shares his fears, his hopes, his dreams. You listen, your silence a balm to his troubled soul. And in those quiet moments, you realize that you’ve found something rare and precious in the midst of war.

Robb’s men see the change in their lord, the lightness in his step, the hope in his eyes. They see the way he looks at you, the way Grey Wind shadows your every move, and they understand. The Young Wolf has found his heart, and it beats for you.

One night, as you sit by the fire, Robb’s arms around you and Grey Wind at your feet, he whispers, “You’re mine, and I am yours. Always.”

You smile, knowing that no matter what the future holds, you will face it together. Robb Stark may be the Young Wolf, a fearsome leader and a brilliant strategist, but to you, he is simply Robb – the man who captured your heart with his honour, his kindness, and his unwavering love. And in his eyes, you see the same love reflected back at you, a bond that no war, no enemy, can ever break.

"You should rest, My King," you say softly. "Let us retire for the evening."

Your words leave him stunned for a moment. You have taken a vow of silence, yet here you are, speaking to him. The surprise in his eyes quickly melts into something deeper, a mixture of relief and gratitude. Robb nods, allowing you to help him up, your hands steadying him as he leans on you for support. Grey Wind shadows your every step, his amber eyes watching protectively.

As you guide Robb towards his tent, the camp around you starts to quiet down. The fires burn low, casting flickering shadows that dance in the night. You can feel the weight of Robb’s gaze on you, the unspoken questions simmering just beneath the surface.

Inside the tent, the atmosphere is warm and intimate. You help Robb ease down onto his furs, his eyes never leaving yours. He reaches for your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. “Why now?” he asks softly, his voice tinged with curiosity and concern. “Why break your vow of silence?”

You take a deep breath, kneeling beside him. “Because I need you to understand,” you begin, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. “My silence was a shield, a way to distance myself from the pain and suffering I witnessed. But with you, it’s different. I can’t remain silent any longer. Not when my heart speaks so loudly.”

Robb’s eyes soften, his hand squeezing yours gently. “What are you saying?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m saying that I want to leave the Silent Sisters,” you declare, your resolve hardening. “But I will only do so if you share my commitment, if you promise that our bond is as strong as I believe it to be.”

Robb’s eyes widen, his surprise evident. He pulls you closer, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You would give up your vows for me?” he asks, his voice filled with awe.

You nod, your heart pounding. “Yes. But only if you promise to be with me, to share this life with me. I cannot leave my order for uncertainty. I need your commitment, Robb.”

Robb’s expression transforms into one of determination. “I promise,” he says firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. “You have my word. I will stand by you, always. You are not just my healer, but my heart. I need you by my side.”

A sense of relief washes over you, and you lean into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace. Grey Wind huffs and trots to settle just outside the entrance to the tent, a silent sentinel watching over you both. For the first time in a long while, you feel a sense of peace and belonging.

Robb cups your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You’ve given me more than just my health,” he whispers. “You’ve given me hope, a future I didn’t dare dream of. I promise you, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, to make you happy.”

Tears of relief and joy well in your eyes as you nod. “And I promise to stand by you, to support you in every way I can,” you vow, your voice filled with emotion.

Robb leans in, his forehead resting against yours. “We will face whatever comes together,” he murmurs. “From this day forward, we are bound by more than just duty. We are bound by love.”

Robb leans in, his forehead resting against yours. “We will face whatever comes together,” he murmurs. “From this day forward, we are bound by more than just duty. We are bound by love.”

His words hang in the air, heavy with promise and certainty. You feel the heat of his breath, the nearness of his lips, and it sends a shiver down your spine. The world around you fades away until there is only Robb—his eyes, his touch, his unwavering gaze that holds you captive.

Slowly, he tilts his head, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a touch. The sensation is electric, a spark that ignites something deep within you. His hands cup your face gently, his thumbs caressing your cheeks with a tenderness that belies the intensity of his emotions.

Then, without warning, the kiss deepens. His lips press against yours with a fervour that takes your breath away. It’s as if he’s pouring all his love, all his passion, into this single moment, and you respond in kind, matching his intensity. Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft, dark strands as you pull him closer.

The kiss is searing, consuming. It feels like the world is burning around you, but all you can focus on is the sensation of his lips on yours, the taste of him, the way his body presses against yours with a desperate need. Every brush of his lips, every flick of his tongue, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

Robb’s hands slide down to your waist, pulling you even closer until there is no space between you. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, mirroring the wild rhythm of your own. His lips leave yours only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, your neck, igniting a trail of fire in their wake.

You gasp, your head falling back as he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that sends a jolt of pure pleasure through you. “Robb,” you whisper, your voice trembling with desire. He responds with a low growl, his hands gripping your hips possessively as he brings his lips back to yours in another fevered kiss.

Time loses all meaning as you lose yourself in him, in the heat of his kiss, the strength of his embrace. The world outside the tent, the war, the uncertainty of the future—all of it fades away until there is only this moment, this man, and the love that binds you together.

Robb’s hands slide down to your waist, pulling you even closer until there is no space between you. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, mirroring the wild rhythm of your own. His lips leave yours only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, your neck, igniting a trail of fire in their wake.

You gasp, your head falling back as he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that sends a jolt of pure pleasure through you. “Robb,” you whisper, your voice trembling with desire. He responds with a low growl, his hands gripping your hips possessively as he brings his lips back to yours in another fevered kiss.

Time loses all meaning as you lose yourself in him, in the heat of his kiss, the strength of his embrace. The world outside the tent, the war, the uncertainty of the future—all of it fades away until there is only this moment, this man, and the love that binds you together.

You're vaguely aware of his fingers at the laces of your dress, tugging impatiently at them. Soon, it seems, he loses all patience and you gasp as he violently rips at the seams of your dress, pushing it over your shoulders and hips with a growl. "On the bed."

You crawl to the middle of the bed of furs, your heart pounding with anticipation as Robb stands before you with a hungry gaze. His possessive nature has always been clear, but now it's different - now, it's thrilling and exciting.

He sheds his own layers first, causing you swallow thickly as his chest is exposed; thick thighs built for fighting but that make you think they might be good for other pleasures as well. And then he is completely bare and you feel your core clench at the sight of his cock. Thicker than it was long, with veins running all along it; the thought of running your tongue over those veins makes your mouth water.

"Gods, you're glorious." you whisper, resisting the urge to chew at your nails.

Robb's calloused hands trace the curves of your body, sending shivers down your spine. His touch is confident and passionate, and you can't help but feel desired under his gaze. His lips find yours, and he kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with a fervour that leaves you breathless.

As he breaks the kiss, his mouth moves to your neck, nibbling and licking the sensitive skin. You moan softly, your fingers tangling in his hair as he continues his assault on your senses. His hands slip under your shift, caressing your breasts with calloused hands. You arch your back, pressing yourself into his touch, wanting more.

Robb takes the hint, his fingers deftly removing your shift and freeing your body to his gaze. His mouth finds your nipples, and he sucks and nips at them, his stubble adding an extra layer of sensation. You gasp, your head falling back as he worships your body.

His hands trail down your body, fingers find your clit, and he begins to rub slow circles, making you moan and writhe beneath him. His other hand joins the first as well, his fingers sliding into your wet pussy. You are more than ready for him.

His head dips between your legs, and his tongue finds your clit. He licks and sucks, his fingers still inside you, curled to hit that perfect spot. You moan louder, your hips bucking as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

Just as you're about to cum, he stops. You look at him, confused, but he just smirks at you. Robb pulls himself to his knees, positioning himself between your legs. He rubs the head of his cock against your clit, making you moan loudly again. He teases you like this for a moment before slowly sliding inside you.

He fills you up, stretching you in the most delicious way. He starts to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you.

Robb's pace quickens, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. You can feel yourself getting close again, and you urge him on. "Harder, Robb, harder," you gasp. He complies, his cock slamming into you, making the bed shake.

You feel yourself on the brink, and then you're cumming, your orgasm ripping through you like a tidal wave. Robb keeps thrusting, drawing out your pleasure until he finally follows you over the edge, filling you up with his cum.

He collapses on top of you, his breathing heavy and ragged. You wrap your arms around him, feeling closer to him than ever before. Robb's possessiveness has always been a part of him, but now, it's something else - it's a sign of his love and devotion to you.

As you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking, you know that this is just the beginning of your journey together. And you can't wait to see where it takes you.

[seancekitsch]

Hazbin Hotel—Lucifer x Reader where he’s a love struck fool for reader? May or may not be inspired by that little imagine you posted not too long ago \(//∇//)\

uhhh this kinda got away from me. enjoy!!

You’d have to be a fool not to notice how the King of Hell acts around you, even Angel and Husk told you that. But you’re not blinded to situation, you know exactly what’s going on. You rest your elbow on the bar next to Angel as Charlie gathers the hotel residents and staff, a job not unlike herding cats. Everyone trickles in slowly, waiting for the next odd trust bond activity Charlie has come up with now. Last week was heartfelt letter writing, and the three of you at the bar had not taken it seriously. You handed Husk a comedic inner monologue about how much you needed to pee, Husk handed Angel a surprisingly detailed made up story about a talking whisky bottle, and Angel handed you a list of what roles he’d cast the entire hotel in a porno.

“What do you think they’ll have us do this time?” Husk mumbles to you, topping off your drink.

“Honestly, not a fan of the way Princess is smiling right now,” you answer.

Charlie waves everyone over, and Vaggie smiles uncomfortably, ready for everyone to start.

“Okay Good Afternoon,” Charlie starts, practically bouncing, “Today we’re going to try to form new bonds!”

Immediately, she’s met with groaning and mumbling, but thats never stopped her and it won’t today either.

“So what better way to do that then having a buddy for the next twenty four hours!” She shouts, and Vaggie’s face immediately makes sense.

“I’ve separated everyone from their regular group so they can build these bonds and be open!”

“…got something you could open…” you hear Angel mumble under his breath.

Charlie gives her dad a thumbs up.

“The first pairing is… my dad and Y/n!”

The Morningstar family sucks at being subtle or lying.

“So what did you have planned for the day?” Lucifer asks while sitting beside you, his voice short and clipped, his entire demeanor like he’s on high alert. It’s cute, really.

“Ah don’t worry about it,” you shrug, “What does the areat King of Hell do with his day?”

Lucifer rubs his neck, fidgeting under your question.

“It’s not… Its not actually all that interesting,” he admits, “You’ve probably got something cooler going on.”

There’s something he’s avoiding besides your gaze, but you don’t press the issue.

You look across the lobby to Angel, who pauses his conversation with Vaggie to mouth something that looked like the word “fart” to you, and then wink.

Your art gallery. Right.

“Have you ever been to Pentagram City’s biggest art gallery?” you ask him.

Lucifer is a gentleman. You understand how he stole the first man’s first two wives from him. Sure, he’s stumbling and stuttering and a nervous wreck, but he’s holding doors open for you and asking about your thoughts and feelings about the pieces on display, he’s accidentally on purpose almost held your hand three times now. Next time he does it, you’re just going to grab his damn hand.

You stare at the sculpture in front of you, noting that you should have someone move this to a different room. In fact, there’s a few things you’ve noticed while showing Lucifer the art that you should have moved around. Maybe you’ve been neglecting the gallery a bit more than you thought now that you live at the hotel.

“Hey, Can I ask you about these?” Lucifer’s voice booms from the next room over. Sighing, you type a quick note into your V-Phone and turn.

Oh shit.

Lucifer found THAT room.

You cross the threshold into the room you never go into, the room with your own work. Honestly, it’s not even curated the way the other rooms and floors are. This is where you put anything that you think can leave your studio. He’s in front of one of your biggest paintings, and one of your newest. It’s an abstract piece about your feelings about redemption, about your past sins, about adjusting to the hotel. Which it sounds stupid when you put it like that, but it made sense in the moment and you’re proud of it.

He turns and smiles before looking back at the painting.

“Is the uh, is the artist willing to sell this piece?” he asks, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning red.

Now it’s your turn to get nervous. You’ve never actually sold any of your own pieces before.

“I uh- I’m not gonna sell it to you,” you tell him, “You can have it.”

It would be weird to take money from Lucifer, even if he is offering. You like him a decent amount and a transaction between the two of you would make it weird. It would feel like you owe him, even though your art would technically satisfy that. If he was one of the Vees or someone you dislike, you would have immediately taken money.

“But the artist-“

“Me,” you clarify, and you finally remember you don’t tag your own art. Lucifer’s jaw drops at your admission.

“I’d really like to support your work, it’s magnificent,” Lucifer insists, and you feel your cheeks burning. He turns to gesture to another piece, and his knuckles brush your own.

Fuck it. You told yourself you’d do it. You grab Lucifer’s hand in your own, a bold move.

“Just think about it as a gift,” you tell him, “A thank you for the lovely day we’ve had.”

You inwardly cringe, knowing that when you recount today at the lobby bar your drinking buddies are going to tear you a new one for that corny line. But it fits for Lucifer; he’s bringing out a side of you that you really haven’t seen in a while.

“Thank you uh, gorgeous,” he tacks on the pet name like even he isn’t sure about it, and with his hand still in yours, attempts to lean against a sculpture, stumbling as he misses it and bringing you along with him. He tugs you by the arm, jerking you closer to him. He’s majorly out of practice.

“I have a studio upstairs if you want to see more?” you offer, not really sure if you thought that through.

“More art? Absolutely!” He recovers quickly, enthusiasm dripping from his voice.

You smile as you pull him towards the hallway, butterflies in your stomach as it dawns on you that he’s going to be the only person besides you to see the studio.

You and Lucifer end up staying there until Charlie calls him the next morning.

You notice paint on his chin after you get back to the hotel.

[lovelykhaleesiii]

could you write something about aegon having raw seggs with reader before he sets off for rook’s rest? putting a baby in her just in case … bonus if he’s chubby 🤍

For Good Measure...

PAIRING: Daddy!King!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Daughter!Reader

WORDS: 1,432.

WARNINGS: for the sake of the story, B&C has already occurred prior to Rook's Rest, incest, implied age gap [reader is of consensual age], Daddy kink, breeding kink, mentions of implied pregnancy, p in v sexual intercourse, unprotected sex, possessive!Aegon, swearing, slight praise kink, chubby!Aegon.

*READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION*

A/N - boy oh boy, it feels good to be back… I hope this is a sensational comeback fic for you all. thank you to everyone for the warm welcome. and I hope we’re all preparing for what’s to come… cause I certainly will need you guys to keep me standing tf up!!!!

credit to owners of the images.

“Princess come, come. Your father summons your immediate presence.”

Ser Arryk, a dignified and loyal knight of the Kingsguard, and a familiar, trustworthy face. Your father, the King, Aegon the Second, entrusts him to bring you forth at his beckon call, wherever he may be.

Entering the empty council room, you find yourself engulfed in the menacing silence, scorched by your father's eager, hungry eyes. As the large, oak doors shut close behind, sending an instant shudder across your body, you feel rigid in the unnerving, mighty presence of your father. You knew better: for he would dare not to harm you. In fact, Aegon held quite the opposite attitude towards you. He loved you dearly, romantically. You were the complete apple of his eye, holding you with great infatuation and awe, he was mesmerised by you since you had matured enough into a woman. As the young male lords and knights of realm bestowed their likeness towards you, streaks of jealousy arose feverishly within him, boiling his blood, he refused countless of marriage offers, and ultimately claimed you as his own. Word had spread like wildfire across the realm regardless, of such a blasphemous unity between a man and woman, a father and his daughter: and yet your ancient tradition said otherwise.

Aegon wanted you: a stubborn man, and King nonetheless, his word held the highest authority, making it final. And in the midst of a war, your unity was neither a priority nor the main topic of interest.

"Come to me, my sweet girl. Your Daddy is tired and sapped. Your presence is all I crave for."

Not a breath uttered, except for a subtle exchange of a sympathetic smile as you closely embarked the weary disposition of your father: sprawled against the larger of the sturdy chairs, his figure stout and brawny, he was an impressive sight to see. You felt vulnerable and meek against him, and yet knew the protection he granted, no one else could provide. His grand stature met his considerable authority hand in hand.

"And what does Daddy need me to do for him exactly? Need I sate him, or the needs of the King?"

Your hands softly grip at his shoulders, pushing his chair back, creating enough space between his rotund stomach and the table's edge, mounting his wide, meaty lap.

"Hmm- By serving your Daddy, you serve your King, princess. Do your Septa's not teach you of royal etiquette? What your role to me is? Need me to fuck some sense into you, princess?"

"It would be more compelling than those tedious lessons you force me to attend... I think Daddy just wants me all to himself. This war has stolen you from me, and I-I miss you," The taunting words disappear as your voice grows quiet and shaky, struggling to sustain eye contact with your father, you feel your body fall deeper against his lap, as your fingers toy with the chains of his tunic. His calloused, pale hand reaches up towards you, gently stroking your flushed cheek, as he strokes a shedding tear away.

"I know, baby, I know... I would want nothing more than to just be with you. Have you in my arms and my cock deep inside you all day and night. I can't stand being this far apart from you, even if you remain down the hall from me. Daddy hates disappointing you, princess. I do... But I must ask more from you-"

Sniffling you enquire what precisely, and Aegon's lilac eyes grow tempestuously dark.

"Your Uncle and I are to head to Rook's Rest, for battle-"

A panic breath hitches in your throat, your saddened eyes widen in alarm, your grip on Aegon's broad shoulders tighten: you refuse to let him go if need be.

"I want you to bear a child, our child, my beloved. I want you to carry my heir, it is our duty. I want you to honour me with a babe. I promise I will return in one piece, for you and the babe."

One attention you had grasped in your day to day Septa lessons, was that your father, as King, and whomever his betrothed wife may be, her duty to her Grace, was to provide as many heirs as possible, blessed by the Mother. You knew as a fellow heir in line to your father, the Council and the realm would be expectant. The idea wholesome, the motive morbid, yet a part of you wanted to honour your Grace. You wanted Aegon to claim you as his completely, to taint you with his seed and showcase it to the greater good of the realm.

"I-I would want nothing more. So long as you uphold your promise, and return to me, if the Gods bless me, father, I want you to take me now."

Without a second to spare, Aegon's rough, pudgy hands find their way eagerly hiking up your tender thighs, your gown raking upwards in motion. His plump lips latch onto your reddened, soft ones, biting and pulling at your lower lip in tease. With such a vigorous strength he lifts you effortlessly, planting you onto the table's edge, as he shoves his heavier mass between your legs, spreading you wider open much for his ease. You aid him in undoing his pantaloons and belt, his lips sucking and trailing down your neck, feeling your sensitive skin moist and numb from his eager take.

"My precious girl, so adamant to fulfil her Daddy's wishes. How did I ever deserve the likes of you, my angel. Gonna make me the proudest fucking King."

Moaning helplessly, you feel even more weaker against his efforts, more susceptible to his seduction, as you feel it has been a lifetime since you had been spoiled by your father's heed.

"Y-Yes Daddy- M-Make me all yours, I-I want them a-all to know."

The blush tip of his girthy cock, struck with palpable veins, had been teasing your slick entrance, slowly etching in and out of your folds: plunging himself in suddenly, your tight walls stretching with agony to adjust to his mass: screaming his name in painful pleasure as a lightning shock courses through your feeble body.

"Baby must've forgot how to take her Daddy, huh? Show me how well you can take me, princess. I know this cunt was made just for me, prove it."

His thrusts had always been sloppy and formidable, although the table was sturdy enough to take, you gathered every fibre of strength to hold dearly onto Aegon. Your nails digging viciously into his clothed adipose flesh, for extra support.

"Gonna make you such a pretty, little Mumma. You're going to look so fucking beautiful with my child swelling inside of you, and these tits will grow ripe with milk. Just tell me how bad you want it, princess-"

"Mhmm- S-So fucking bad, Daddy. Over fill me with your seed, and watch me take. It will be my duty, m-my honour. E-Everyone will know, you d-did this to me. W-What will they think of m-me then."

His round hands tugged and pulled at your lush, free fallen strands, one holding you steady by your neck. In sync, your fingers found themselves entangled with his short, platinum strands, burying his face deeper between the crook of your neck, as he remained lapping at your skin in between his words.

"They will know exactly who you belong to, who owns you. No man will dare to question my authority. My decision to make you mine. I'll fucking have you swollen all war long if necessary."

His pace had quickened, his messy thrusts sharper, as his bulging, stiff tip plummeted against your clit. The pain worth the pleasure. Reaching a climax, the sudden outburst of his warm seed overfilled inside of you, spilling out in between the edges as he shifted himself over you, caving in. His heavy mass falling onto you in relief, your sudden outcry of his name disguised as an audible moan, you cradle his solid body in your arms, unable to embrace him completely, you still manage to hold as he regained his composure.

A quick, incomplete clean, he props you up softly against him once more in his lap, stroking your hair, as your dense breaths become one.

"So proud of you, my precious. For all that you have done and put up with... Our children will be blessed with a graceful mother. Our realm delighted with you as their Queen, my Queen. I will return to you with our babe kicking inside of you, I promise."

general taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you] - @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1

Aegon ii taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you] - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @jawline-of-steel @daughter-of-the-stars11 @bucknastysbabe

credit for divider - @/itbmojojoejo

[lxkeee]

CHAINED BY DESIRES

-SMUT [2/2]

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Sinner! Fem! Reader

Genre: Romance & Smut

Warnings: Lucifer owns your soul in this one. P in V sex, slight choking (chains as round your neck), dom/switch Lucifer, fingering, orgasm denial, praises (reader receiving), consensual sex, unprotected sex.

Notes: this is 3k of pure smut. So minors do not interact.

PART ONE | NAV.

“Please... [Y/n], I need you.” Lucifer pleaded, desperate to feel all of her. “As you wish...” she whispers, equally desperate to feel him, caressing his cheek, a suggestive smile on her face, “—my king.” she purred as she finally gently pushed him back down to his bed, catching the King of Hell off guard.

Lucifer's rosy red cheeks turned into a darker shade of red, hot, he feels incredibly hot. He could suddenly feel everything, the loud thumping of his heart, his and her heavy breathing, the softness of her skin against his cheek, the increasingly growing arousal on his pants. How she straddled his lap and grinded on his growing erection, causing a whine to escape his lips.

[Y/n] grinned, a suggestive smirk on her face as she listened to the delicious whines that left Lucifer's lips. His head was thrown back on to the pillow, his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed down his moans, “[y/n] please... Stop being such a tease...” he begged, stammering as whimpers left his lips.

[Y/n] raises an eyebrow at him, clearly enjoying herself. Why wouldn't she? The king of hell, the apple of her eye is beneath her whimpering and begging more of her to do more to him. She grins, “Do you want me to stop? Okay, I'll stop.” she purrs, stopping herself from grinding against his crotch, making the man underneath her whine pathetically.

Lucifer whined from the loss of friction, ruby red eyes staring up at her, half-lidded with lust and adoration, “You're cruel.” he pouted playfully making the woman above him giggle, [y/n] places a finger over his lips—shushing him playfully, “But you loved it.”

Lucifer sighs, a smirk on his face as he pushes himself up with the support of his elbows, his face dangerously close to hers, “I do, I really do.” he admits hoarsely, eyes half-lidded with lust. Their chests are pressed together, they can feel each other's heartbeats—how erratic and loud it is thumping against their ribcages. [Y/n] presses her forehead against his, her warm breath fanning his face slightly, “Kiss me like you need me, Lucifer.” she purred, her hand caressing his neck up to his jawline, making him hitch his breath, choking on a moan.

[Y/n] chuckles at his reaction, though it was cut short as she felt his hand behind her neck and pushed her down on him for a kiss, his elbows no longer supporting his body as his back finally hit the mattress once more, “Hmmph—!” She yelped slightly against his lips.

She instinctively closed her eyes as she allowed Lucifer to claim her lips, a soft moan escaping her lips which Lucifer eagerly captured it with his own. His thumb caressed her cheek, his other hand holding her waist and pulling her body even closer to his.

[Y/n] could feel the oblivious bulge that rubs in between her thighs, she whined into the kiss, her hands slowly unbuttoned his white coat, causing Lucifer to groan, “Eager are we?” he purrs teasingly, parting away from her lips for a brief moment.

[Y/n] giggled, “Only for you.” she replied and he smirked before pulling her down for a kiss once more, his snake-like tongue licking her bottom lip asking for permission in which she gladly permitted him.

Tongues tangled with one another, moaning against each other's lips as they hungrily kissed each other. Almost seven years of bottling their feelings finally spilled forth. Their touches on each other's skin igniting it aflame with passion.

“Can I undress you...?” he asked, voice almost desperate as he parts away from her lips, “Please...?” he asked, almost a whine.

[Y/n]'s breath hitched ever so slightly, a warm and fluttery feeling on her stomach, “Yes, please do,” she whispers, stammering slightly before their lips met once more.

Their hands eagerly began to undress each other. Hands shaking, small moans and giggles escape their lips as they kissed. One by one clothes were discarded off their bodies and thrown haphazardly out of the bed and down to the floor.

Lucifer's breath hitched, his eyes half-lidded, his rosy red cheeks darkening even more as he stared at the woman above him. The soft glow of the chandelier highlighted her flushed bare skin, his eyes lowered down to her chest, causing him to look away flustered.

[Y/n] smirked, not used to seeing him be so flustered. She places a hand underneath his chin, tilting his head back to look at her, “Focus on me.”

‘Goodness, when did she become so straightforward?’ he asked himself, very flustered.

“God, you're so beautiful...” he breathes out, holding her hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing her knuckle gently.

Blood rushes up to [Y/n]'s cheeks as she hears his praise, flustered from his words and also flustered at the fact she could feel his throbbing length in-between her thighs. She's too flustered to look down on his body.

She chuckles, a breathy giggle coming out of her lips, “Coming from the most beautiful angel of creation? A highest compliment I'll ever receive.” she purrs and Lucifer smiled, showing off his pristine sharp teeth, “There's a lot more of that came from, I'll make sure to shower you with compliments.” he purrs.

[Y/n] giggled, holding his hand and bringing it to her chest, allowing his palm to touch her breast, “Touch me, please...?” she says, breathless, Lucifer's breath hitched, the room suddenly became even hotter.

Lucifer allowed his hand to massage her breast, thumb rubbing and teasing her nipple causing [Y/n] to silently moan, her hand covering her mouth. The delicious sounds she was making was causing him to throb, his length throbbing with need.

“Don't hide those beautiful sounds you're making, let me hear them love.” he whispers, his other hand holding her hand—that was covering her mouth—and moved it away from her lips.

[Y/n] panted, whimpers escaping past her plump red lips as Lucifer played with her chest, she felt his hand on her back, pushing her down and allowing himself to put his lips around her breast.

Blood rushes all over her body as pleasure courses through her veins, goosebumps dancing on her skin. A whine leaving her lips as she could feel his snake-like tongue swirling around her sensitive bud.

Lucifer closes his eyes as he enjoys himself pleasuring her, making sure both of her breasts receive the same treatment.

“Lift your hips for me, love.” he murmurs against her skin, causing [Y/n] to whimper but obediently obeyed. Lifting her lips slightly, holding on to his shoulders for support.

A sharp inhale is what she did, legs trembling as she felt the stimulation that came from his mouth on her and the stimulation of his fingers running through her slicked folds.

Lucifer grinned, already felt how wet she is for him. Her slick coated his slender fingers, “Look how aroused you are for me,” he purred, his finger immediately finding her clit, putting a delicious pressure on the sensitive bud, circling the pad of his thumb on it. She grinded on to his hand, causing him to smirk, “You're not allowed to move unless I tell you so, got it?” he asked, his voice smooth and filled with need, yet stern. She nodded frantically.

He continued his ministrations, finally slipping a finger to her entrance. [Y/n] gasped sharply, her legs trembled in pleasure as she tried to keep her hips lifted into the air.

Lucifer grinned, thrusting his long and slender finger into her tight entrance, he could feel her gummy walls hugging his digit causing him to chuckle, “Good girl, keep your hips up for me okay? Can you do that?” he asked with a smirk and [y/n] nodded, “Mhmm... Yes, yes...” she moaned pathetically.

He added another digit, easily slipping it inside, “So wet and warm for me...” he purred, scissoring his fingers to stretch and prepare her properly. [Y/n]'s toes curled up in pleasure, her hands gripping into his shoulders for dear life as her legs trembled.

“Lucifer... Stop teasing me...” she whined, accidentally rolling her hips against his hand.

Lucifer smirked, summoning the chain around her neck, the golden chain that connected to his hand. He tugged it, causing her to be slightly lunged forward—downward rather, close to his. The action causing sensual and pathetic whines leaving her lips, she loves it.

Lucifer gripped the chain, rough yet not enough to hurt her, his eyes narrowed at her flushed face, a smirk on his face, “What did I ordered you not to do?” he asked, leaning to her ear, [Y/n] swallowed thickly, shuddering at his tone. Still trying not to moan as his fingers never stopped thrusting in and out of her cunt.

“N-not to move...” she sputtered out, quite pathetically. Lucifer smirked, wondering where the confidence she had earlier went, “And what did you do?” he asked, smugly. Still holding on to the chain, “I moved...” she stammered.

Lucifer chuckled, “You naughty girl...” he purrs, rolling the chains around his hand as he pulls her even closer—dangerously close to his face.

“Naughty girls who don't do as they're told, need a little punishment to get them in line.” he smirked and [Y/n] gulped, both from nervousness and excitement, “I am going to remind you who you belong to, do you want that?” Lucifer asked, whispering to her ear, [y/n] whimpered, a small whine leaving her lips.

“Good girl, if it's too much say the word apple okay?” he says softly and she nodded, “Use your words, love.” he says sternly and she looked at him with a half-lidded gaze, filled with lust and trust, “Yes, I will say apple if it's too much.” she says, almost a whisper and he smiled, “Good.”

A pathetic sobbed escape her lips as she was denied from orgasm for... She lost count, somehow their positions switched with her now underneath him as he continues to thrust his fingers inside her swollen cunt, “Luci please...” she whined, whimpering from overstimulation, Lucifer tilted his head in confusion, his fingers snugged comfortingly around her gummy walls, a grin on his face.

“Please what?” he cooed, kissing away her tears. His back stinging in slight pain from the scratches of her nails but he doesn't mind the slightest.

She sobbed, “Please let me cum...” she pleaded and he hummed, giving her forehead a little kiss, “Since you begged so nicely and it seems you've learned your lesson. I suppose you earned it.” he smirked, finally slipping out his fingers from her core, his fingers glistening with her slick causing him to smirk, she whined from the loss of his fingers from her cunt. Straddling her lap as he admired his fingers, causing [Y/n] to blush.

He brought forth his hand to his mouth, making sure to keep an eye contact with her as he sucked his own fingers, tasting her essence on his tongue.

[Y/n] watches him with wide eyes, her breathing quickened as she watches him erotically sucked his fingers.

He released his fingers from his lips with a pop, a teasing grin on his face, “Absolutely delectable, something I can't get enough of.” he says with a smirk, admiring how her cheeks reddened even more but he can't be a hypocrite, he knows and feels how red his own cheeks were too.

She avoided his gaze, he smiled as he placed his hand underneath her chin, tilting her head to look at him. My, how the tables have turned.

“You're such a tease.” [Y/n] pouted slightly, Lucifer chuckles.

“Payback for being naughty.” he says smugly and she playfully rolls her eyes at him, “I've been good to you, please stop teasing me...” she begged and he hummed, pretending to think, “Is this your first time?” he asked with a slight hum and she nodded shyly.

A smile found its way to his face, “I'll make sure to be gentle then.” he says, summoning a bottle of lubricant out of thin air and popping the bottle open.

[Y/n] watched in awestruck, watching him apply some lube to his length, her eyes widening as she finally realized his girth and length—she finally knew where the rest of his height went.

Lucifer saw her awestruck gaze, he chuckled as he placed the bottle of lube into the bedside table, giving his lover an assuring smile, “Tell me if it hurts or if it's too much. Your pleasure is my priority, understand?” he says sternly and [Y/n] nodded shyly, he sighs, “Use your words darling, what was the safe word?” he asked.

“Apple.” she answered softly and he nodded, “Good girl, remember to use it when you want me to stop okay?” he asked, using his hand wot swept away the strands of her falling hair out of her face, some of it sticking to her forehead.

“Yes..” she replied while nodding and Lucifer smiled, “It will hurt at first but tell me when to move.” he says and she nodded.

Lucifer inhaled a sharp breath, aligning his length to her entrance before gently sinking himself inch-by-inch inside her.

[Y/n] let out a sharp gasp as she felt him stretched her open, her back arching slightly in pain. Lucifer noticed her discomfort and decided to kiss her gently on the lips to distract her, his thumb wiping away her tears while his other hand held her waist.

[Y/n] tries to kiss back, trying to distract herself from the delicious yet painful stretch his length gave her, her toes curling in pleasure and pain as she finally felt him slide the rest of him in her. Skin against skin, causing her to gasp as he finally sheathes himself fully inside her.

Lucifer groaned as he finally slid the rest of him inside, her tight walls clenching around him making him whine softly against her lips before peppering kisses around her throat, “Are you okay...? Do you want me to stop...?” he asked worriedly and [Y/n] shakes her head no, “I'm fine, just give me a moment to adjust please.” she says softly, choking on a whine.

Lucifer nodded, remaining still as possible despite wanting to move. He'll give her time to adjust around him.

[Y/n] took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. When she finally felt the pain was manageable, she held Lucifer's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, “You can move now...” she says shyly and Lucifer smiled, kissing her forehead and nodded to her.

Lucifer began to roll his hips, gently thrusting in and out of her, length sliding out and eventually sinking back in, deep. This caused [Y/n] to let out a needy moan and a pathetic whine from Lucifer as he nuzzled his head at the crook of her neck.

He started off slow, gentle, and sensual, making sure she's comfortable and slowly getting used to this. His mind is constantly fighting with itself, fighting the urge to suddenly become rough with her.

“So wet for me.. l-look h-how easy I slide in and out of you, l-love...” he praises in between choked needy moans, his hips never stopping it's thrusts, his praise causing [Y/n] mewl softly, her hands gripping to his back for dear life. Her sharp nails scratched his pale and blemish free skin. He slightly groaned in pleasure at the sting, his hips never stopped rolling against hers. Slowly increasing his pace.

The bed creaked, their moans and pants filled his bedroom as they made love to each other. Almost seven years of fantasizing about this moment, they finally have it and experienced it.

Each thrust he made almost made him come undone, he's desperately trying to hold on as long as he could, trying to lengthen the moment. His hand squeezed hers in each thrust, whimpers and desperate whines left his lips. It's been seven years since he felt this kind of intimacy so he's feeling everything of her in great lengths.

“[Y/n], [Y/n], [Y/n], [Y/n]...” he whined her name, hips stuttering occasionally as he thrusted, loud squelching sounds filled the room as he thrusted. [Y/n] can no longer form coherent thoughts or words, babbles and moans were the only things coming out of her lips, whining and mewling his name.

Lucifer's moans got louder and louder as they approached their climax, it's increasingly hard to continue, “[Y-y/n... I'm so close, 'm gonna cum...” he whined against her shoulder and [Y/n] can feel a knot forming in her stomach, warm fluttery feeling filled her stomach as she too felt like she was about to burst, “Lucifer, Lucifer, L-Lucifer, I'm s-so s-so cl-close...” she chanted out like a prayer, her voice raising a pitch from pleasure.

He bit her shoulder slightly, not enough to draw blood or hurt her, he can feel himself getting closer and closer, “'m gonna cum, gonna cumgonnacumgonnacum... I'm cummi—!” he whined against her skin as his hips stuttered, shooting thick load of his essence inside her.

[Y/n] can feel warmth inside her, causing her to moan loudly, her hands gripped into his skin as she finally orgasmed for the first time.

Lucifer presses his forehead against hers, both of them trying to catch their breaths. A toothy smile appeared on his face as he chuckled, he gave her a gentle kiss on the lips which caused her to smile through the kiss, “That was amazing, you were amazing...” he said, breathless and panting and she chuckled, “You were amazing too...” she whispers and he just giggled.

“Are you alright? I didn't hurt you, didn't I?” he asked worriedly and she shakes her head, a smile on her face, “No, no you did not.” she says with a whisper and he grinned, “Thank goodness... I thought I was too rough and hurt you.” he says with a slight frown.

“I'm alright, love. In fact, you were amazing. Thank you for being my first time.” she says shyly and his rosy red cheeks darkened, “It was an honor too, thank you so much for trusting me.” he says softly, caressing her cheeks. She nuzzled her face against the palm of his hand, “Thank you, too.”

He smiled at her, finally pulling out of her. His thick essence drips out of her, causing him to blush, he cleared his throat, “I'll go prepare the bath for us.” he says and kisses her forehead, he giggles, “I love you.” she says and his eyes softened, "I love you too.” he replied and kissed her hand before going to the bathroom to prepare the bath for the both of them. [Y/n] smiled, thankful for her decision which caused her to find the love of her life. He too is thankful for finding her. A weird romance but they certainly made it work, so all's well that ends well.

TAGLIST:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @yukichan67 @apple-pop @akiralovespenguins @storydays @kaurochika @amphiroxx @lil-writer-523 @punching-pentagrams @moonlovers34 @akiqvq @the-attention-whore @asmodeussimpnumber1 @viannasthings @soft-enbee @stormz369

[covetyou]

stupid cupid

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: oral sex (f receiving), unprotected P in V, a few ass slaps, sex toys (butt plug and a dp dildo), anal play, anal sex (with a dildo), double penetration, creampie, vague fluff and emerging feelings (gross), the wings stay ON. word count: 5.2k summary: Joel makes a return to your home, this time with another gift to give. Will you be his Valentine?

A/N: he's here. he's back. baubles joel, big bawl joel, the holiday king himself. and yes, yet again something that probably shouldn't be a series is becoming a loose-fit series because I just can't quit.

I guess you can all be my Valentine's if you'd like and we can smooch and hold hands and stuff, idk (I love you 💛) gorgeous V day divider by @saradika-graphics

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You didn't expect to scream the moment you entered your bedroom after a long day at work.

Of course, you had wanted to scream all day. First, when you spent the morning fighting with a piece of software that just did not want to work. Then, when you watched your colleagues trickle out of the building well before 5pm, all on their way to romantic dates, while you were stuck in your seat making up for your - and their - lost time this morning. And when you finally stumbled from the building at 8pm, only to sit in traffic for another fucking hour? You may just have let a furious squeal escape your throat as you gripped the steering wheel.

As you finally pulled into your driveway, the only things on your mind were a hot shower and takeout food.

The first part had gone without a hitch. Mostly.

Stripping off your work clothes before you'd even got to the bathroom, you hadn't noticed a single thing different about your home. As you tossed your clothes into the hamper, nothing was amiss. Stepping under the hot stream of water, you felt totally at peace for the first time that day. There was a kind of serenity to be found in your own bathroom that didn't exist anywhere else. No, nothing was unusual at all.

And then you'd loosely wrapped a towel around you, not bothering to dry yourself, and crossed the short distance across the hall to your bedroom. You weren't to know you never closed the door this morning when you left - that was 14 hours ago, afterall. Sunset had long since been and gone, so how were you to see anything, or anyone, where it shouldn't be until you sleepily flicked the light on after closing the door behind you.

So, naturally, when your brain finally registered DANGER - INTRUDER you screamed, almost dropping your towel in the process.

And that's where you still are, locked to the spot, fight or flight truly fucking off from your mind entirely, as you stare straight ahead.

There's a man on your bed. A very familiar man. His hulking figure splayed across it like some kind of fucking renaissance painting, naked as the day he was born, except for the fairy wings strapped to his back with elastic and... is that a bow and arrow? And a pacifier?

"Santa Joel?"

Joel rolls his eyes, pulling the pacifier from his mouth with a pop.

"I ain't Santa. Does this look like Santa to you?" he says, with a sweeping broad gesture down his body. He decidedly does not look like Santa. You're not sure what he looks like, and you're not sure you care when you can't help but notice he's at half mast already. Dragging your eyes from his crotch, you look at his face, somehow sweet and angelic even with his dick out.

"Okay, well... what are you?"

Looking at you in disbelief, he slaps the pacifier down onto the bed before swinging his legs over the edge to sit upright. Only, now you're not so sure it's a pacifier. It looks like a - but why was he sucking on it?

"Ain't it Valentine's Day? I'm Cupid, stupid."

"Cupid Joel?"

"Cupid Joel. It really that difficult to work out?" With a lopsided grin he picks up the bow, miming shooting you, before resting his elbows on his knees. The soft trickle of water down your body feels more and more like you're melting by the second. A practical stranger like Joel shouldn't have been able to do this to you the first time, but the fact he was here again, charming and suave, despite the nudity and criminal activity, told you all you needed to know. You were painfully and woefully attracted to him and you would do just about anything to have a night with him again.

"Well, Cupid Joel, you broke into my house. Again."

He ignores you, lounging back on your bed and spreading his knees wide, picking up the - yep, that's definitely a butt plug - again and sucking it into his mouth. Removing it with a flourish, he looks you up and down, a question in his eyes before looking to his own cock, now much harder than it was a moment ago.

"Different guy, you said that was Santa Joel." You can see him holding back a laugh, and you'd be tempted to wipe the smirk from his face if you weren't rooted to the spot. "Anyway, that guy told me he didn't see any pictures when he was here, guessed you didn't have a Valentine. Figure everyone deserves some lovin' on the big day," he says with a shrug and a quirk of his mouth. "So, here I am. Your very own Cupid, if you'll have me, 'course. Don't gotta stay, I can leave if you want me to."

You didn't want him to leave. He'd broken into your house again, and you were exhausted, but seeing him lie there, naked in your bed with the evidence of his little dress up game strewn around him, stirred things in you. If he was willing to give you some lovin' then who were you to turn that down. You're only human, after all, and it is Valentine's Day.

So, you do the only logical thing in that moment and drop your towel without another thought.

"'Atta girl," Joel chuckles patting the bed beside him. "C'mere, got you a present."

Incredible, if slightly strange, sex with a stranger, and he bought you a present? Suddenly the day isn't feeling quite as shit as it was an hour ago, and damp and naked, you approach your bed. You're close enough to him now that you can smell him again, that soft oaky smell throwing you back to the twinkling lights of Christmas Eve. You didn't know any more about him now than you did that night, really. Though, truth be told, you hadn't tried too hard to find him. You had a good time, and the soft lit fantasy of Santa Joel was something you enjoyed exactly as it was. Unveil the man, and you threatened to ruin that fantasy. But a night with Cupid Joel? That could be a new fantasy altogether.

"S'not Christmas any more, don't remember ever having to sit on Cupid's knee to get a Valentine," you murmur, sitting back on your heels as Joel's large hand slides up your thigh. You watch as it moves from your knee to your hip and back again, fingers gently teasing your sensitive inner thigh on the way down. The only hands that had touched you since Christmas were your own, though you had spent night after night imagining his all over you. You were starting to think you'd fallen asleep at the wheel and this was all some wonderful stress dream.

But then he presses a soft kiss to your knee, the scratch of his facial hair rubbing just enough to let you know this is all very, very real and you'd very much like more of it.

"Ain't gonna make you sit on my knee for it. Might want you to sit on somethin' else though."

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "Real smooth, Cupid."

And then he's smiling up at you as he leans forward to kiss your thigh, then your belly, pushing you back with one large hand until you're laying beneath him, spread bare and open as he makes his way back down to your thighs.

It's so easy to get lost in it. The soft scratch of the scruff on his chin, rough fingertips moving gently across your thighs, soft lips pressing and sucking delicately on you, catching the last specks of water from your skin with each pass of his mouth. Your eyes drift closed just as his breath ghosts across your mound, another soft kiss soon following, and another, and another.

Until, blissfully, his soft mouth connects with your clit, tongue peaking out to swipe across the sensitive bud. It had been so long since anyone had gone down on you, long before you made the move to Texas last year, you'd almost forgotten what it felt like. Stuttering for a while, you're about to feebly mumble how good it feels, but all thoughts grind to a halt when he sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning before softly releasing. You had never had a man moan eating your cunt before, and now here you were, fairly certain angels were real and you'd gone to heaven, taken there by Cupid Joel and his wings.

"You always this late home, or did you have a date that went to shit?" he mumbles around your clit. It's a small sneaky way that he asks, wanting clarification on something he was almost certain of but you had yet to confirm. There were no pictures in your house, but that didn't mean there wasn't anyone in the picture.

Shaking your head, you gasp out a response. "Work - work went to shit. Ohh."

"Bad day?"

"Yeah, it - fuck, Joel."

It's then that you take your first opportunity to look down and see him between your legs. His hair looks even fluffier, his hands pushing your thighs open while his fingers pull you apart at the seams. His eyes closed, lashes fanned against his cheek, tongue softly lapping against your center, gusts of his hot breath billowing against your mound. He's beautiful.

And he's still in the fucking fairy wings.

A laugh primes itself, ready to explode out of you, but another firm lick sends you reeling, head hitting the mattress with a thud. Whatever he's doing to you, whatever this fucking day has done to you, you're going to come, and fast.

"Cu-Cupid Joel. Don't fucking stop."

Joel stops mid-lick, earning a frustrated moan from you, eyes widening from where he looks up between your thighs. "Already?" he asks in disbelief, noticing how quickly your legs and cunt have started to twitch.

"Stupid fucking cupid, don't stop, please."

His mouth finds your clit again and he's devouring you, lapping quickly against your cunt as your squirm into him, hips rocking your cunt against his tongue. Another day you'll wonder if it was his tongue or your movement that got you there, but right now all you know is the thick syrupy feeling in your veins as an orgasm quickly rockets through you, a strangled moan leaving your throat as you fist your sheets in your hands. You've muffled him, your thighs clamping around his head as he pushes further forward, tongue buried in your folds until you can't take it any more and you're desperately pulling away from him.

When you release your grip on his head, he gasps, cursing into the plushness of your thighs. Sitting up, he looks down at you, the bedroom light illuminating him from behind, making the wings glow on his back like your very own heavenly creature.

"Wanna see your present now?"

The fog in your head has barely cleared, your ears still fuzzy as you take in his words. Somehow a tongue on your pussy wasn't your Valentine's gift from Cupid?

"Wha - that wasn't it?"

"Nope."

"Is that it," you say, letting a thread of hope feed into your voice while you nod to where his cock hangs heavy between his legs.

"Not exactly, but you can have that too if you want it, darlin'."

You don't know what you expect, but Joel reaches over and picks the butt plug from where he'd discarded it on your bed earlier, and holds it out to you.

"Don't know if you're into it but," he holds the plug out to you, base first. The pink glass looks so delicate in his fingers, and it takes a twist of his hand for you to see it, but the heart shaped base of the plug soon becomes clear to you, brain foggy as it is, and you laugh, the sound bubbling out of your lips as your head tips back, laughing so hard you can feel your tits shake.

"You had that in your mouth."

Joel shrugs. "Better now than after it's been in your ass."

"Why're you so sure it's goin' into my ass?"

Got him, flashes through your mind when you watch his face drop. You don't let him suffer for long.

"I'm fucking with you. You're tellin' me you broke into my house but didn't go through my shit? I got three in the drawer over there."

"Three?!" he says in faux shock, rolling you over onto your front and grabbing at your ass cheeks. He pulls them apart, the cool glass in his hand pushing into your cheek as he tugs you open.

You shriek, swatting behind you as you laugh again. "Joel- what the fuck are you doing!?"

"Checkin' where you keep these three assholes."

"I'm lookin' at one asshole right now."

Now it's his turn to laugh, a deep rich sound that has your toes curling and your pulse sky rocketing, pulling you out of it with a gasp when he slaps a hand down on your ass only to watch it ripple with the impact.

"So, do you want it in?"

"Mhm, I have lube in the bedside table."

A rummage later, you wait, kicking your feet in the air, resting your chin in the cup of your palm. When he turns again, he sees you waving your ass from side to side, ready for him. Slick is coating your pussy, your upper thighs glossy with it too.

"That a present all for me?"

Pulling your cheeks apart again, he kisses each one, lightly nipping on the soft flesh as he does. And then, without much warning, he burries his tongue between your spread legs, licking a thick stripe from your clit to your asshole, groaning with every lick over your tight ring. Fisting the sheets, you press your face into the mattress. If he's going to keep doing this before he even fucks you, you're going to come again and fall asleep before he can get inside you.

"I thought this was a present for me, you're acting mighty excited back there."

"It is. Never said I wouldn't get anythin' outta it though."

A cool trickle of lube drizzles into your crack, quickly spread by Joel's large finger. He teases for a moment, circling your tight hole a little before gently pushing in.

"Fuck."

Moaning in agreement, you almost speak to agree, but then his finger is gently fucking your asshole and all words fail you. Coming just a moment ago did nothing to stop the need you had for this man, the feeling in your core growing tenfold as each moment passed.

"Fuck, Joel, put it in my ass and fuck me already."

The strangled noise from behind you startles you, and you look back for a second to see Joel's eyes pinched together and his head thrown back as his hand grips tightly around the base of his cock, wings falling forward over his shoulders as he desperately tries to relax himself.

"You can't say shit like that to me, darlin'."

"Then stick it in me, stupid."

Fingers slick with lube, he strokes the plug, before sliding the cold tip across your hole.

"Wanted go slow. Wanna watch you take it."

With a soft push, he presses the tip forward, watching as your hole accepts the cold tip with ease. This was always something you loved, even playing with your plugs by yourself when the feeling took you. It had been too long since anyone else had played with your ass, and you can't say you were too mad about Joel being the first to touch you there in so long.

The stretch is soft, and soon the bulb of the head pushes past your tight ring, making Joel hiss behind you as he watches you take it. He fucks you with it once, then twice, before pushing firmly, letting your ass take the entire length of the plug. Twisting it, he sits the heart upright, before leaning forward to kiss it. It's not often you get a man's face buried in your ass so, figuring it's karmic justice for the species, you push back into him, holding back a laugh when a small oomph escapes his lips when your ass collides with his face.

"Gonna tell Santa Joel you did that. No nice list for you."

"Then if I'm already on the naughty list, fuck me already. You promised me lovin'."

Wiggling your ass, you arch your back to expose your pussy to him even more. He hasn't so much as put a finger in you yet, and part of you is glad for it. You want to feel his cock pull you apart as it fills you, pushing past the ridge of the plug lodged in your ass. You want to feel stretched and full and ruined.

Joel seems to be on the same page, shuffling forward, dick in hand, sliding the tip through your slick folds. Catching on your entrance, he runs the tip of his dick across the plug where it's nestled inside you before pushing down, slipping into your empty hole.

And fuck is it tight. If it feels this good for you, the half-filled and stretched wide feeling of his cock in one hole and the plug in the other, you wonder how it must feel on his dick. You're wet, dripping really, soaking his cock and letting him in with ease, but there's the solid lump of the plug dragging along the top side of his cock as he pushes in.

Deciding he's going too fucking slow, too tentative when all you want is to be filled, you push back. In one swift rock you take him to the root, gasping and hitting the bed with your fists as he bottoms out, his own fingers digging into you flesh harshly.

"Sh-fuck, fuck."

Stopping, you almost pull away, worried you might have hurt him, but his grip stops you. Before you can turn or question him, he's pulling back, slamming in hard again, groaning when you take him completely.

If Santa Joel destroyed you, Cupid Joel is going to wreck you entirely. And you welcome it.

He's fucking you steadily in no time, relishing in the sound of your moans getting higher and higher in pitch with each pound.

Your knees buckle first, planting you face first in your sheets. Joel tries to pull you up, but his own knees are slipping, dragged down by the grip of your cunt on his cock. Giving in, he crowds over you, pumping deep into you despite the tangle of limbs you've become in the last few seconds. Somewhere in the scuffle you've kicked the bow and arrow, listening as they clatter to the floor just as tangled as the two of you are.

He's warm, and sweaty, and heavy above you, holding just enough of his weight on his elbows to let you breathe. Making a few more shallow thrusts, he suddenly stills, nose breathing deep into your hair.

"Shit. Can't come yet. I got one more surprise for you," he pants into your ear, offering you a soft kiss to your shoulder before his weight shifts.

You want to grab him and hold him to you, beg him to come in you already, but he has other ideas and he's pulling out before you can grab him. "Ugh."

"Gimme a sec," he grunts from behind you. "Can't - hmfph - get it over - god damn it - my balls. There. Got it. Snug but, damn, look at that."

Looking behind you, you watch as he sways from side to side, looking down where his cock bobs between his legs. He's mesmerized, and soon so are you.

He's strapped another cock just below his own, the tapered black dildo just shorter than he is. It sits flush to his full balls, anchored to them by a thick ring, another wrapped around his length. Even with the sounds of his struggle, you're amazed he got it on so quickly.

"Don't have to take both but," and he shrugs - fucking shrugs all coy and uncertain as if he hasn't reached into the depths of your brain and pulled out your most desperate fantasy of taking two cocks at once.

"Didn't wanna spook you, but given you like gettin' your asshole played with," he says with a press to the plug still sat in your ass. "Worth finding out if you're into ass fuckin' too."

You were. Fuck yes, you were. You had your own collection of toys and plugs for a reason, but it had been a criminally long time since anyone had really fucked you there. Other than Joel, it had been a criminally long time since anyone had fucked you anywhere.

"If I say yes, what else are you gonna pull out from back there? You got a bag of tricks around here somewhere."

Joel gives you a toothy grin, stroking his hand over his slicked cock before sliding two fingers straight into you. "Tool bag is downstairs, but ain't got anythin' in there I'd like to put in here darlin', don't worry."

Fingers slipping slick and wet inside you, pressing firmly upward with help of the plug still lodged in your ass, you're rendered speechless again. Reaching out for him you hold his hand in place, fucking yourself on his fingers for a moment before reaching further toward him.

Joel gasps when your hand gently cups around his balls, the thick rings of the toy strapped around them making them seem even fuller with the press of the dildo into them. You roll reach one beneath your fingers, catching the dark look in his eyes.

"You like 'em, huh? Know you liked havin' 'em in here."

"Fuck. Thought about it so much since. Dreamed of you coming back to fuck me with them again."

"Tsk, ain't disappointing you, am I?"

"Joel, you have two cocks and you're threatening me with a good time. You couldn't disappoint me right now even if you tried. And you broke into my house. Again. Now, if you don't fuck my ass with either of the cocks you have there soon I'm going to do it myself," you say, fingers stilling on his balls, before you think again and add, "Please."

"Since you asked so nicely, sweetheart. C'mon now, lemme take this out. Can put it back in this needy hole after. That's it."

It's surreal, looking up at him as he gently tugs the plug out of your ass, offering you sweet murmurs of encouragement. You know nothing about him, save for his first name and penchant for dress up games. And yet, the desire you have for him is steadily creeping upward as time ticks on. Truthfully, you didn't even really remember what he looked like when you thought about him, fingers toying with your clit as you came to memories of Christmas eve. Low light and mind melting orgasms will do that to you. All you knew was his voice and the soft filthy way he fucked you. Now, getting a proper look at him without the shield of twinkling lights and that red jacket, you can truly appreciate him. He's fit, though you suspect he's never stepped foot in a gym a day in his life. He's soft too, in the way that strong sturdy things are soft. You want nothing more than to pull him into you, to press his softness against your own as he ruts into your holes, but that's decidedly not what this is. Whatever this is, between the mild crime and fucking, it isn't that sort of soft sweet thing.

You don't know how he's going to do it, which cock is going to take which hole, but you decide you don't care when he's leaning over you to press a soft kiss to your lips. When your legs wrap around him of their own accord it's all but decided, and he takes his cock in hand - his real one - and lines up with your dripping slit, pushing in slightly before fumbling below for the other. It takes a moment - the lubed up dildo slipping from his grasp as he huffs and tries, but fails, to slot it against you. Briefly tangling your fingers with his, you take over, positioning the toy at your ass, feeling it slip in a little already as he grinds his hips forward, desperate to be balls deep in you again. With both cocks poised and ready you moan, quivering and clamping your eyes shut at merely the thought of being fucked in both holes at once.

With one more press forward, Joel slides in, the glide of lube easing the dildo into your ass as his cock reclaims its place inside your pussy.

And fuck, you have never been so full, and Joel has never fucked something so damn tight. The space his cock would normally make is taken up by the dildo, fighting for position inside of you as he rocks gently, sliding in and out of you with gradually deeper movements. The deeper he presses, the more desperate your moans become, and you catch the hesitation in his face before he can move.

"Don't you fuckin' dare stop."

This time he doesn't, wordlessly pushing into you and filling both your holes to the brim as sweat trickles down his face. You want to lick it off him, to sink your nails into his back, wings be damned, to lick the salt from his skin and bite down into the the firm flesh at his neck. But the only thing you can do before he's fucking you in earnest is grab hold, careful to avoid snapping the elastic of his wings against his shoulders as he pounds forward. There's no candlelight and rose petals here, just the raw sound of skin slapping against skin, grunts heaving into the air as you pull yourselves into each other.

"Tell me how it feels," you rasp into his ear, watching the flap of wings over his shoulder. "Tell me how it feels fucking me with both of your cocks."

"Oh, shit, it's good. So good, baby. Someone's definitely goin' on the naughty list next Christmas. You likin' this? You likin' being fucked in both holes?"

A frantic nod is all you can manage as he starts hitting a spot in you you didn't know existed, building pressure in your cunt like never before.

"I know. You're just so full, ain't you. Take two dicks so well. Pulling me in so good."

Hoisting your legs over Joel's hips, you grip around him, a loud moan bursting out of your chest as he fucks back down, deeper now at the new angle. This is it. This is how you die, you're sure of it.

"How close - How close are you. I think I'm gonna - fuck - die -AH!"

He stops grunting for a moment to force out a breathless "Am I hurtin'?"

It only takes one look at you for Joel to realize he's not hurting you at all. There you are, fucked all the way to oblivion and back, a chorus of angels screaming in your ears with each snap of his hips. You're going to come again, clit untouched and holes filled, a way you've never managed to before. You don't even know how it's happening, all you know is that suddenly your soul feels like it's being pulled straight from your bones, through the middle of you and out through your cunt and asshole at the hands of Cupid Joel himself. And then you're gushing, mind and pussy totally detached as you come, soaking his cock and your sheets.

"Yeah that's it," he grunts, his weight surrounding you once more as he pushes into your spasming holes over and over, chasing his own release. If it wasn't for the damn tight rings around his cock and balls he would've come already, but your moans in his ear and your fingers gripping his shoulders spur him forward.

"Joel."

"Gonna come. Gonna fuckin' - uh - come in your tight fuckin' pussy."

"Yes, yes, come in me, please, I can't, I'm gonna -"

Joel stiffens, hips stuttering as he gives you a few hard, shallow thrusts, before he explodes inside you, groaning so loud it makes your ears ring and cunt make one last attempt to clench around him. As much as you soaked him, he's just filled your cunt, cum pushing deep inside you with each spurt, locked in place by the fullness of the two cocks inside you. You collapse back, your ears still ringing and your limbs feeling soft and heavy.

This time you're certain black out for a moment.

But when you peel open your eyes, Cupid Joel is above you again, halo'd by the bright yellow light on your bedroom ceiling. His hair is damp, wet even, from sweat, a bead trickling down his neck and glittering in the light. And in his eyes there's concern, a worried pinch in his brow as he searches your face.

"You passed out -"

"- You're still here."

He rolls his eyes. "Way to make a guy feel special, sweetheart," he says with a cocky smile. "Just checkin' on you, but I can get goin' as long as you're okay."

You nod, the movement feeling as slurred as your speech. "You left. Last time. Saw you walkin'. Jus' wonderin'."

"Wait... you saw that? Shit, I thought you were asleep."

"No, wasn't 'sleep."

"You gonna sleep now?"

"No," you murmur with a nod, closing your eyes as you feel the last sweep of his hand down your neck, pulling a sheet over your limp form, just for you to mumble one last thing before the soft darkness takes you. "Balls... next time... please."

"You got it, darlin'."

It's an arduous journey to the bathroom when you wake up in the dead of night, remnants of cum trickling down your legs and thighs sticking together. Quickly cleaning yourself up, you check the house for signs of him, already knowing that he's long gone. You wonder how he left this time, whether he kept the wings on, whether he still had a second cock strapped to his own as he escaped into the darkness. For all you know, your cupid could have flown away on glittered fairy wings.

And then you're crawling back into bed, takeout long forgotten, any hunger you had satisfied in a different way than you expected. Somehow there's comfort in the wet patch you curl yourself around. Cupid Joel is gone from your house, but there are still traces of him here. The cum on the sheets, the ache between your legs and, as you reach to turn the light off and let darkness take you, the butt plug on your bedside table. Between the Christmas decorations stashed in a box in your closet and this plug, you were slowly amassing pieces of a man you didn't really know - gifts from a stranger that made you feel more at home in this place you'd moved to than anything else had managed to in ten months.

Tracing the outline of the heart with your finger, you stretch and snuggle back down into bed, letting exhaustion take hold and when you dream, you dream of flying.

next part

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