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lokissweater · 21 days

Note

hey i really really love your fics and the way you write youre so talented! ive been searching for a virgin!yuji x virgin!reader for so long and my life would literally be urs if you wrote this. if not no worries, i totally get it.

sending love! - anon

OH THIS IDEA IS HOOOOTTTTT AND U BEST BELIEVE IM ALL OVER IT!! thank you for your sweet words and for sending in a request!! i hope you like it!! :] <333

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oh my god, pretty!

{yuji itadori x f!reader}

summary: your relationship with yuji was semi new and cute, you both absolutely adoring the fuck out of one another since the moment you met. one thing you have in common though? you’re both loser virgins with absolutely no experience whatsoever, and on one night where you’re both innocently cuddling on the couch watching a movie— yuji goes NUTS.

warnings: MDNI. college!au, afab!reader, SMUT, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it ya’ll), accidental creampie LOL, yuji is a little perv, smut with barely any plot she goes straight to the good stuff, cursing, pet names, fluff, FILTHYYYY this is filthy, all characters are aged up.

word count: 3.9k

authors note: PHEEWWWW THIS ONE HAD ME MEOWING LIKE A KITTY CAT AND I HOPE YALL MEOW WITH ME!!! thank you for your support always, that is an absolute given, i love you and i love you forever. MWAAAHHHH <3333

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“are you okay baby?”

no you were not.

because yuji was in a black tight compression tee and pj’s while you both were watching a movie together and cuddling on your living room couch, the sleeves of his shirt accentuating his biceps and the rest of it squeezing over his pecs and torso, the brightness of your tv illuminating all of his sharp handsome features that had you gnawing at your nails in a nervous fit— him looking at you with pinched eyebrows.

yuji and you had just started dating a couple of months ago— his lively overly friendly personality winning you over without really much effort at all, and your genuine sweet one catching his heart the minute he saw you come into one of his lectures last year, looking soul killingly beautiful and radiant, the both of you befriending each other quickly as your interests aligned.

and you started hanging out on and off campus a lot more frequently after that— gradually falling more and more in love until yuji finally gathered up his jumpy nerves and asked you to be his girlfriend.

there was a problem though.

neither of you had had sex before, or had done anything in between the lines with other people before you got together.

it was the first thing that yuji worried about when he first started dating you— embarrassed and afraid that you would think he was a big fat loser with no game and that he would potentially run the risk of losing you, you maybe preferring a man of experience to match your own needs.

but when he admitted that to you, and when you shook your worried little head and told him you were in the same exact boat as him, he was fucking elated— his apprehensions crumbling down like a landslide and replaced instead with the giddiness of getting to do stuff with you for the first time ever, and him being the man (the only man ever he hoped) to get to do it to you.

but then there was another problem.

neither of you seemed to want to start anything, the both of you hesitant and scared because of your lack of experience— petrified of humiliating yourselves if one of you tried and pathetically failed at it or did something incorrectly.

“mhm! fine.” you smiled sweetly, your calm voice a completely different contrast to what was currently happening inside your reeling fuzzy brain.

you had both definitely talked about it, the subject of intimacy. but it was always something that the two of you reassured each other would happen eventually when you were both ready, that there was no rush— choosing to brush the subject off like it was nothing.

except it wasn’t nothing. it was never nothing. and you were both way past fucking ready, especially yuji, him practically ripping apart at the seams with horn dog need anytime he saw you wear those little skirts that you like so much, or whenever you’d straddle his lap during one of your daily makeout sessions— his hands literally trembling over your ass in attempts at being respectful of pretty ol’ you, settling for placing them on your upper back instead.

and you would internally pout, disappointed, because you always without fail noticed all of this yet you were too shy to mention anything or do something about it on your own.

“you sure?” he asked softly. “you look like you’re thinking about something.”

he raised a hand and gently poked your cheek repeatedly with his index finger, a silly smile on his face. “tell me baby tell me baby tell me baby—”

you giggled, “i’m okay! just zoned out.” you pushed his finger away, leaning up and pressing a quick shy kiss to his cheek that made him instantly flush pink in return, a wobbly smile spreading across his face.

in the midst of you retreating back to your previous position, yuji caught your chin with his fingers and turned you to look at him, your cheeks blushing as he stared at you with lovesick dreamy eyes.

“can we— um.” his gaze flickered to your lips. “can we make out.”

your eyes widened slightly and your hands grew clammy fast, cheeks buzzing as you stared back at him.

since making out was the only thing you both properly conquered, it happened almost every single time you saw each other, the act practically filling in and making up for the more lewd exchanges you both were missing out on, your kisses always sloppy and messy but heated— though each time it came around to it you were often just as nervous as the first time.

“s—sure!” you stammered. “you don’t have to ask me yuji… you can just— y’know… do it..”

he bit his tongue, your timidness for some fucking reason sending a shock of arousal through his veins and straight down to his dick as he tried his best to swallow it and not make it obvious for you.

“okay!”

he brought your face closer then and kissed you, a solid one at first, until you slowly parted your lips and ushered him in, deeper, your body moving closer to his on its own as he immediately responded with placing a hand on your leg to throw it over his lap, your mouths wet and slippery as he properly settled you to sit on him.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, the movie drowned out completely in the background as a sequence of lip smackings echoed throughout the room, yuji’s hands on your upper back like always as you continued to make out… until you felt a little stinging cramp in your knee— moving your hips a little bit to readjust, utterly unaware of how you accidentally applied pressure over yuji’s crotch as he sucked in a breath through his nose and pulled away.

“fuck don’t do that baby don’t do that.”

you froze, hands quickly retracting back to your chest. “what? what do what?”

“oh—” he froze, eyes wide and cheeks pink as his mouth opened and closed like a fishy out of water.

he couldn’t possibly tell you why, not wanting to scare you away by admitting that you grinding down on his crotch like that made his dick jerk and mind haze in the most filthy and perverted way imaginable, feeling like he wanted to dig himself a big fat grave of horny shame to throw himself into as he watched your pretty eyes look at him the way that they were, wanting that same look but underneath him instead—

your bent knee cramped up once more and you hissed, moving your hips again except this time harder, yuji’s eyes flying open as the grip around your upper torso tightened, a strangled whiny hum escaping his throat.

your eyes snapped to his at the sound, now feeling something hard poking your clothed pussy as your brain finally put fucking two and two together, your hand slapping over your mouth in embarrassment at what you did and over your stupid delayed realization.

“oh! yuji i’m so sorry i— i didn’t realize—”

he shook his head rapidly, his cheeks and ears red as he shakily smoothed his hands over your hips comfortingly.

“no baby! don’t be sorry it’s okay!” he quickly kissed your forehead. “i—it’s me… it’s not you at all…”

but there was something else behind his eyes, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint as he just stared at the place where your body met his crotch, hands slowly gripping your hips tighter in a certain way and… and actually moving you now in a certain way that made you promptly realize he was grinding you against him, pleasure quickly twitching at your clit in response as flat hands flew to his chest to stabilize yourself.

“what— what are you doing?” you stammered, your chest heaving a little.

“s—sorry!…” he mumbled, eyes still trained to the same area. “it just— felt kind of good… so..”

yuji peered up at you, a cautious look on his face as he eyed you curiously with his pinky cheeks bright— hesitantly indulging in his overwhelming sick need for you, as simply making out was just not cutting it anymore ever since he got a taste of how something like this could feel a couple of seconds ago.

and your thoughts were identical to his.

timidly, you slid your hands up slowly to rest back on his manly shoulders, the rough material of his compression tee under your fingers making you literally squeeze your hole around nothing, eyes nervously darting around his face.

“o—okay…”

his hand came up to brush some of your soft hair over your shoulder, his thumb moving in to caress gently over your hot cheek.

“can i… can i do it again?”

you shakily nodded, and he gripped your hips again before moving you just like he did before, your crotch coming down to meet his slowly and cautiously as your mouth partially hung open at how good it actually felt, yuji staring at your expression with blown out pupils and nearly drooling over it.

but he wanted more, his hands moving you then to grind on him a little faster, his hips coming up to meet yours at the same time as you shyly met him halfway— quick and stuttery until all of a sudden you were full blown humping into each other like rabid dogs, your tiny whiny moans setting him the fuck off as he captured your lips again to make out with you, fearing if he let you quietly moan like that for his ears to selfishly drink up that he was going to end up busting in his pants.

“y—yuji…” you whimpered in between kisses.

“yeah baby?” his husky voice sent another electrical shock of ecstasy through your body, your fingers gripping his shirt in tiny fists as you didn’t even know what exactly you were pleading him for.

but he knew.

he wrapped his arms entirely around you and moved so that you were laying flat on your back now, yuji in between your legs as he kissed you sloppily while grinding himself back on you again, him literally mimicking how it would be to fuck you as you squeezed his biceps for support, your thin pajama shorts feeling his hard cock bulging from his pj pants and rutting against your cunt desperately with every hump.

yuji, literally trapped in a dimension of arousal and nasty fucking thoughts of you with every moan that slipped past your puffy soft lips, had him reaching and tugging down on the waist band of your shorts like an animal, your baby blue panties with a little ribbon bow in the middle making him nearly choke on his spit.

your hand quickly came to clasp around his wrist, stopping him.

“y—yuji my parents! i don’t know if we should—”

“oh fuck—” he whispered, looking up to the top of your staircase and down where your parents were sound asleep, gnawing so much on his bottom lip in cock blocked agony that he accidentally drew blood.

and you didn’t know why, but the urge was unforgiving as you reached up and cupped his hot sweaty cheeks, pulling his face down as you stuck your tongue out and licked over his bleeding lip.

yuji stared, eyes wide, before he let out a low guttural grown and shoved his face into the crook of your neck.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—”

you were fucking killing him.

he rolled his leaky cock slowly into you again, his shoulders trembling at the cold feeling of his wet boxers that were literally covered in pre cum the moment your pretty plush thighs sat over his lap, you speaking up.

“m—maybe—”

he pulled back fast.

“yeah?”

“maybe if you just— look. that… that should be fine, right?”

“yeah yeah!” yuji’s invisible tail was practically wagging over your words. “look uh huh! just look baby.”

you bit your lip, slowly reaching down and tugging as both of yuji’s hands went flying down to help you, pulling them over your thighs and down to your ankles before setting them behind him on the couch with a soft thud.

you kept your thighs closed, shy and timid as you realized yuji hadn’t seen you like this yet… your cheeks flaring in embarrassment as he pulled your knees apart and gawked at the vision before him, yuji looking at you like you had built the entirety of rome by yourself with your bare hands.

you hadn’t noticed yet, but your panties were drenched— a patch of wet spread over your lips that literally outlined the anatomy of your pussy to a t, leaving little to the imagination as his eyes stayed locked on your clit in a complete trance.

“oh my god, pretty!…” he murmured, his index finger coming down to softly touch and rub your puffed up clit over your panties, you squeaking in response and slamming your thighs closed again.

“sorry! sorry!” he sputtered, frantic as he came down to peck little kisses on your cheek apologetically, your eyes shut, bashful. “did that hurt? i didn’t mean to i’m sorry—”

“n—no!” you shook your head and slowly peeked your eyes open. “it didn’t… just felt s—sensitive.”

his shoulders relaxed in relief, nodding, his eyes widening in delight when you spread your legs back open for him again, your panties literally stuck slick to your pussy at this point.

yuji’s fingers pressed against your folds, him wanting to just feel the way your little wet lips mushed up against his digits, his curious hand directing him slowly up over your clit and back down by your virgin hole as he breathed hard through his nose, trying to get himself to calm the fuck down over your cunt and not freak you out.

but what he was doing felt good, him having no idea as you pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth with your eyebrows screwed together in euphoria, his ears perking up at the sounds of your sweet little moans and whines the more pressure he applied to it.

and then he got an idea.

as you were distracted getting riled up by his fingers, yuji shoved his other hand under his wet pajama pants and boxers, pulling out his throbbing cock and pumping it a little as his angry tip leaked with every jerk— a drop oozing down and landing right on your nub before rolling over your panties as he breathed out a string of hushed curses.

yuji replaced the hand on your pussy with his cock, his length and tip pushing up in between your sopping cunt and back down, completely soiling your panties with a mix of your arousal and his pre cum as he rolled his hips into you again, you not noticing at all until both of his rough hands came to grip and squeeze over your inner thighs, your eyes fluttering open as you wondered why it felt way better than before, them bulging once you saw his thick long dick slipping and sliding hurriedly against your pussy.

“b—baby!” you moaned breathlessly, but yuji literally could not hear you as his dazed droopy eyes stayed focused on your swollen puss while he continued to rut.

“uh huh..?..” he panted. “what’s wrong sweetheart…”

your words lodged themselves in the back of your throat as a particular rough thrust made you choke and clamp your mouth shut, squeezing your eyes shut in response with your sensitive nub pulsing as you felt yuji’s leaky sticky cum all over you.

“does it— does it feel good?” his eyes finally trailed up to look at you, his already fucked out expression and flushed face forming a yummy pit in your stomach that you recognized as your release whenever you fingered yourself, except that feeling no where near as good as what you felt right fucking now.

“mhm..” you moaned and licked your lips.

yuji’s fingers slid up from your inner thighs and to the straps of your panties, fiddling and playing with them as he rolled his hips like a little perv, his tip at times falling and literally sinking into your gaping virgin hole a bit— your panties a thin stretchy wall that frustratingly stopped his cock from going, slipping back upward instead.

“baby…” he moaned lowly, whispering. “maybe we should just have sex right now…”

you gasped. “right now?! i don’t know yuji my— my parents— and we’ve never—”

he leaned down and sloppily kissed you, speaking in between each smack.

“they’re asleep it’s—” mmphf— “it’s okay—”

yuji already had his middle finger hooked under your wet panties as he started pulling down, you squeaking at the cold breeze hitting your bare clit.

“i want to but— hic!”

he rubbed his tip over your entrance a bit, pooling your juice up.

“what if— what if we get too loud? and they come downstairs—”

he shook his head. “i’ll keep on a lookout pretty don’t worry about it...” he murmured. “you just relax while i pump my cock in, yeah?”

you whimpered, nodding quickly and pathetically as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down flush against your chest, suctioning tiny sucks on his jaw to keep you from moaning the loudest you’ve moaned all night as he started pushing in, yuji’s mind in a literal fucking state of delirium as his dick was finally gonna be buried in your cute pussy after wanting it for so long.

you hiccuped against his jaw, your arms gripping him tighter as he stretched you out so good, feeling a little pinch in your walls that made you spread your legs wider in attempts at alleviating it.

“ohhhh fuckkkk baby—” he moaned loud and you quickly clamped a hand over his mouth.

“shhh honey shhh—”

“m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry—”

his voice was muffled against your hand as he pumped deeper, your squeal catching itself in your throat and his body fucking shivering at the way your tight slobbering walls sucked him in without him having to even push, your hole clenching around him and pumping more strings of stray pre cum out inside you.

“my god do that again please do that again—” he panted, reeling his hips back slowly and pushing in at a steady rhythm.

“d—do what?” you panted, your eyes closing in pleasure.

“squeeze— shit!— squeeze me please please—” he begged, pressing wet open mouthed kisses on your cheeks as he licked up your little overstimulated tears.

“like— like this?”

you clenched your hole again and his body jerked, his choked moans huffing in your ear as he rolled and snapped his hips faster.

“mm! yuji my god—” you squealed and he placed a hand over your mouth, the both of you now covering over each others as he proceeded to drill his hips in, the couch squeaking with every messy hit.

your hand tightened over his lips the louder he moaned, your eyes silently pleading with him to be a little quieter, but him too lost in the milking of his cock and the way your fucked out face looked as he couldn’t connect the dots with what you were asking of him, suddenly your blurry brain coming into reasonable consciousness for a second as you became aware of the fact that you weren’t even using protection.

“b—baby—” you muffled against his hand. “we’re not using a— mmm! c—condom we need—”

smack smack smack—

“shit i don’t— i don’t have one sweetheart.” he stifled, and yuji only went faster then, harder and jerky as his awkward virgin hips jolted you up and down on him, your eyes rolling back. “s’okay i’ll just pull out m’kay? i’ll pull out—”

his snappy pace brought your brain back into your previous dumb erotic state, nodding dazedly as he scooched his hand down and shoved his middle and ring finger inside your wet mouth, your tongue slobbering over his digits before your lips lewdly closed around them and sucked.

yuji was not keeping a lookout for your parents.

“oh fuck baby you look so fucking pretty doing that…” he choked. “you look so so pretty under me and taking my dick—”

“mhm..” you moaned around his fingers, drool seeping out of your mouth and down your chin as you felt like you were on the brink of cumming and squelching all over him.

“i’m gonna pull out soon okay? i feel—” pant— “i feel like i’m cumming—”

you pulled back from his fingers with a pop and licked your lips, nodding vigorously as you squeezed your eyes painfully shut, your release washing over you like a prickly wave with your mouth hung wide open and your vision blowing bright white.

but in the midst of you creaming, you accidentally clamped your thighs shut around yuji as he tried to slip his dick out.

“fuck! i can’t—” pant— “baby open your legs please im gonna— fuck fuck fuck!—”

yuji’s cum pummeled inside you and filled you the absolute brim as he gasped and whined in your ear, his balls draining so much of it into you that it took no time at all for it to slip past your hole and onto your couch below, the both of you heaving heavily with your clothes stuck against your sweaty sticky bodies.

“are you—” he swallowed. “are you okay baby? i’m sorry i came inside—”

“it’s okay it wasn’t you—” you tried to regulate your breathing. “it— it was my fault… i trapped you in…”

you sheepishly looked at him and gnawed at the inside of your cheek in shame, your face only making him lazily grin and press a hard loving kiss to your cheek.

“it’s okay. we can figure it out later!”

he peeled away from you and sat up, his softening cock still buried inside as he slowly pulled out and watched the rest of his cum spurt out, taking one of his shaky fingers and collecting some before pushing it back in your hole.

“don’t put it back in yujiiii!” you whined.

“sorry! sorry sorry—” he grabbed your wrist gently and kissed the back of your hand, his pinky cheeks vibrant as he looked at you with a wobbly shy smile. “i— i couldn’t help myself…”

you giggled. “s’okay honey.”

he laid his body back over yours, being mindful not to squish you as he leaned some of his weight on his arms, cutely pecking your puffy lips over and over until he was satisfied with the amount, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck after.

“m’glad my first time was with you yuji…” you murmured into his ear, your words causing his heart to literally bang against his chest as he felt like he was on cloud nine with you underneath him like that.

“i’m glad it was with you pretty.” he pushed, looking into your fucked out eyes with sincerity. “and i hope it stays that way. just my dick.”

you laughed loudly, your hand quickly coming up to cover your mouth as he giggled.

you pecked his nose sweetly and readjusted your hips, your cum covered pussy brushing against his cock again, the blood immediately rushing back to it faster than a speeding fucking bullet.

he traced a loving finger across your bottom lip delicately, a little grin on his face.

you quirked a brow. “what?”

“can we um—“ he quickly kissed you. “can we try doggy style right now?”

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taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree

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plutotheplum · 2 months

Text

A Lust for Love

sylus x fem!reader - part 2 to resonance

summary: ever since you've left the N109 zone, you find yourself missing a certain white-haired man.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, masturbation, oral sex - m!receiving, p in v, light spanking, dirty talk, possessiveness, praise kink, inappropriate video, size mentions

wc: 5.7k

a/n: the amount of times sylus kept autocorrecting to stylus has actually driven me insane. also, this could work as a standalone (i think)... thank you for reading! <3

also on ao3!

It’s been a month since you’ve left the N109 Zone.

You had settled back into your old routine easily enough. Jenna had kept you busy, sending you out on mission after mission. However, Wanderer incidents had become relatively stable over the past few weeks, so much so that you were hardly fighting them. Your time had been taken up by training instead, spent out at either the facilities provided by the Hunter Association.

Life had become so mundane as of late that you found yourself missing the thrill of the N109 Zone. It had kept you on your toes, challenged you and the investigative work had been far more rewarding, not to mention you had managed to retrieve the Aether Core’s other half, which was now safely hidden in your possession. To your chagrin, the modified protocore hadn’t done anything special. You had tried experimenting on it with your Evol, but all that was left was a dull shine.

There was also another reason you were missing the N109 Zone though. That reason came in the form of a white-haired man with crimson eyes. Sylus. You couldn’t believe you were actually thinking it, but you were starting to miss the bastard. The lack of his stupid remarks and untimely jabs were starting to make you feel lonely. This was without mentioning that night of pleasure, of course.

No one had ever touched you like that. You still remember the way he had whispered filth into your ears, the way he had fucked into you without abandon. You had barely been able to keep up with him the next day at training. Stumbling like a fawn, your legs had been shaking so badly that the shopkeeper had grown concerned that your bones were experiencing some sort of unknown, sudden-onset deteriorating disease. Sylus had merely brushed it off, explaining that you had eaten something bad. The smug smile he’d sent behind the shopkeeper’s back had made your eye twitch.

He hadn’t rewarded you like he had said though. His work had kept him busy, and it was Luke and Kieran that were coming around to keep you company for the remainder of your stay. The twins were definitely a strange pair, but they were sort of cute in a way, and you found that their bickering was reminiscent of the relationship between you and Caleb.

Mephisto had also taken to accompanying you throughout the base. You weren’t exactly sure what the mechanical bird ate, but after a few little pets and scratches you felt as though it was warming up to you.

Unfortunately for you, Sylus had left an indelible mark on both your mind and your body. It was probably the reason you were in this very predicament, with your hand stuffed down your shorts in the middle of the night.

You’d been trying to get off for a while now, but no matter how many times you rubbed your clit or tried fingering yourself, you could not get yourself to come. Your fingers couldn’t mimic the way Sylus had fingered you, couldn’t reach as deep inside of you. There’s an irritated grumble leaving you as you squeeze your eyes shut and let out a muffled scream into your pillow.

Taking in another deep breath, you’re deciding to give it another go. The pads of your fingers circle against your aching clit and you’re letting out a soft sigh, lashes fluttering. You imagine Sylus touching you, his lips against your skin as he rocks his hips into you. Wetness begins to leak out and you're biting your lip, letting out a low whine into the quietness of the night. Pleasure begins to coil inside your lower stomach and there’s more whines escaping you, fingers rubbing faster against your clit. You can feel the tension in your body beginning to build, back arching as you remember the way Sylus had spoken to you that night.

“Please, please,” you’re begging out into the empty room, brows furrowing when the pleasure suddenly stalls and your chances of reaching an orgasm fade “no, please- fuck! ”

You try and rub a little faster but it’s completely gone, your wrist aching with how long you’ve been at it. Tugging your hand out of your shorts, you stare at it as though it were a traitor.

There’s frustration etched across your face, your cheek squishing against the pillow as you stare at the wall sullenly. Stupid Sylus with his stupid face and his stupid fingers and stupidly addictive cock. The man had completely ruined your ability to masturbate.

At your wits end, you decide to give it one last try. You’re desperate, horny and utterly stressed. Just as you’ve managed to slip your hand down your sleep shorts again, your phone begins to ring.

You squeeze your eyes shut, clamping your mouth shut to prevent the scream that wants to escape. It wouldn’t do you any good to get complaints from your neighbors. Grabbing at your phone blindly, you hit the accept button.

“Hello?” you mumble into the phone.

“Stop squirming around in bed, it’s making Mephisto uncomfortable.”

You shoot up when you hear the voice on the other end of the line.

“Sylus?” your voice is a hiss, eyes darting towards the window.

Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment when you see Mephisto sitting on the railing of your balcony, his little crow head tilted as he stares at you. A wince escapes you at the thought of the crow watching your pathetic attempts to get off and it has you mouthing a silent apology towards the bird.

Mephisto only lets out an indignant caw , turning his beak to the side haughtily.

You groan, flopping back down onto the bed.

“How are you able to see me right now?” you ask, brows furrowing.

“Look outside,” Sylus replies.

You stumble onto your feet, staring out into the darkened surroundings. Eyes squinting, your face presses against the glass, eyes catching on a camera attached to a street light. Oddly enough, the camera tilts towards you. You tilt your head to the other side and it mimics you.

So he was keeping tabs on you. Creepy, but also a little comforting.

“It’s been a long time,” you murmur, staring out of the window again.

Mephisto’s begun to groom his feathers.

“Do you miss me?” he asks.

You can hear the creak of his chair as he leans back in it.

“No,” you retort, a frown settling on your face. An outright admission of your feelings would be confessing that you would be warming up to him. You weren’t about to give him the satisfaction, especially not when he had more or less ignored you for a month.

“Liar,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice, “in fact, it seems as though my favorite little Hunter is struggling to sleep.”

His favorite little Hunter. The idea of being anyone’s favorite, much less Sylus’s has your heart fluttering wildly. He had been thinking about you then. There’s a darker part of you that hopes Sylus has been having the same problems as you. It would serve him right, after all.

Sylus sighs into the phone, “I did warn you,” he murmurs, “I told you I wouldn’t be there to please you when you were feeling needy.”

“I- I am not feeling needy!” you respond, voice pitching as you protest against his observation.

“Another lie,” he clicks his tongue and you hear more rustling on the other end of the line, “is it your plan to keep lying for the duration of this call, my dear Hunter? Hm?”

His taunt has you gritting your teeth, until all your frustrations come pouring out.

“You’ve stolen my ability to orgasm!” you snap into the phone, your tone accusing.

“My, my,” Sylus drawls, “how bold you’ve become, hissing at me like a little kitten.”

“It’s not funny, Sylus” you say, anger replaced by a sense of gloom “ever- ever since that night, I haven’t been able to come at all.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line. You don’t think he was expecting you to actually be honest. There’s a soft sigh escaping you, eyes slipping shut. You can hear the sound of him breathing, then an odd clinking noise.

“I have to go,” he says suddenly and the line cuts off.

You scoff, looking at your phone screen to see that he has in fact ended the call. What an asshole. You had just confided in him about your intimacy issues and the man had left you high and dry. A frown settles on your face and you almost feel hurt by his sudden change in behavior. Perhaps you shouldn’t have expected more from the leader of Onychinus.

There’s a tapping noise against the glass of the window. Mephisto lets out another little caw , his wings fluttering for a bit as though waving goodbye. You lift your own hand, giving him a wave and watch as he flies out into the night. Just like that, you were all alone again.

You sigh, crawling back into bed with a pout on your face. The blankets are tugged up over your body, eyes slipping shut as you try to fall asleep. It doesn’t come easily, your efforts upended when your phone lights up.

Tapping across the screen, the messages between you and Sylus pop up. He’s sent you a video.

Deciding to press play, your throat dries when you see what he’s sent you. His thighs are spread slightly, belt undone as he palms himself through his trousers. You nearly whimper at the sight, moving the phone closer to your face. The bulge of his cock is clear, making his trousers look uncomfortably tight.

You understand why he ended the call so quickly now. Sylus was trying to help alleviate the frustration caused by your little problem. You can hear Sylus let out a low groan and you’re biting your lip, letting your thighs squeeze together.

He palms himself a few more times before he’s dragging down the zip of his trousers. His chair creaks as he lifts his hips and you’re letting out a whimper into the air when you see his hard length in his boxers.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he murmurs, palming himself a little more before he’s pulling down his boxers as well.

Arousal is pooling between your thighs and your pussy begins to ache. Drool collects in your mouth at the sight of his uncovered cock. It’s just as thick as you remember, his tip just as dark from that night.

Sylus lets out another groan, his hand wrapping around his cock. You can’t wait any longer, your hand shoving itself back down into your shorts. The stickiness of your arousal is welcome, and you’re letting out a whine, fingers circling your clit.

You can see him squeeze as his knuckles tighten before his hand is dragging up and down, stroking his cock at a lazy pace. His breaths are heavy and he’s shifting again, his thighs spreading a little more as he gets comfortable.

“Work has been terribly stressful,” Sylus says, his wrist rotating as he jerks himself off, “I imagine you’d need the relief too. My fat cock in your mouth, you could just keep it on your tongue, get lost in the haze. Would you like that, sweetie?”

You’re nodding at the phone even though he can’t see you. Your fingers are rubbing at your clit desperately, whining into your pillows as he strokes himself for you.

Sylus lets out a low grunt, his hand moving faster. It’s an enthralling watch. His pretty fingers wrapped around himself, the tufts of white hair at the base of his cock and the little telltale twitches of his thighs.

“Such a shame you aren’t here,” he sighs and your noises are growing more frequent, feeling the ache in your cunt fade as pleasure builds, “I could’ve taken you here on my desk, given you some of those kisses that you so desperately crave.”

Your body is flushed, sweat beginning to cover your skin as your hips roll, grinding your pussy against your fingers.

“Ah fuck ,” he whispers, squeezing around his cock a little tighter. Pre-cum has begun to drip from his cock steadily and you want to somehow teleport through the screen so you can lick it up for him, feel the taste of him on your tongue.

You rub faster, moaning when he zooms in so you can see the fat tip of his cock wet with his cum.

He grunts, his hand twisting around his length. You can see his thighs twitch a little more and your own orgasm is building like never before.

“Come with me, baby” he encourages, his cock twitching in his grasp.

There’s a moan of his name and you’re coming on your fingers, thighs twitching uncontrollably as your orgasm hits. It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open, a mewl leaving your lips when his cock jerks, thick cum spurting out of his tip. He sighs, letting go of his cock, allowing it to slap against his abdomen, cum smearing across his skin.

You can hear his deep laugh and he’s moving the camera so you can get a better look at his spent cock.

“Sleep well, Miss Hunter.”

The video ends. You’re panting softly, staring up at the ceiling. You can hardly believe he’d done that.

Deciding to give him a little gift of your own, the bedside lamp flicks on and you're squirming out of your shorts, moving your camera between your thighs so you can snap a picture of the aftermath. The image is a bit blurry, but you’re too tired, sending it off to him anyways. It seems an orgasm was what you needed, your eyes drooping shut as you sink into a slumber.

A few hours pass and you’re stifling hot. You don’t remember your blankets wrapping around you so tightly or your face pressing into a hard pillow. Still under the spell of sleep, you squirm around, letting out a sleepy grumble. It’s so hot .

When the heat doesn’t cease, your brows are pulling together, bleary eyes making your vision fuzzy. It’s still dark outside from what you can tell. You try to move, but something is keeping you in place. Your skin prickles, breath coming out in short little gasps. A scream tears out of your throat when you see a man’s figure on your bed. There’s a bit of flailing and your leg is kicking out, landing a blow to the man’s stomach. You kick him again and he’s letting out a pained grunt, falling off your bed with a loud thump . Scrabbling for your gun, your finger hooks around the trigger, aiming it at the man as he stands up.

There’s no time to shoot, red and black vines swirling across your arms and jerking your gun away from you.

Oh.

You rub at your eyes a little more to see Sylus standing there, sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

He examines your gun, shaking his head when he realizes it’s not even loaded.

“Your reaction time is poor,” he says, tossing your gun onto the bedside table.

“What- what are you even doing here?” you demand, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I thought it was obvious,” Sylus replies, laying back down on your bed.

He stares back at you, smirking when you don’t come to lay down with him. He uses his Evol, the tendrils lifting you in the air and laying you down gently.

You feel his arms wrapping around you, tugging you back into the warmth of his chest.

“You enjoyed my little show,” he whispers, his fingers running through your hair absentmindedly.

“I did,” you admit, peering up at him.

He stares back at you, his hand coming to cup your cheek. You feel his thumb smoothing over your skin and the action is so soothing that it has your eyes fluttering shut.

“I never said you could break into my apartment though,” you say.

“Such a minor detail,” he sighs, a smile on his face, “you ought to be more grateful that I’m here. I am a busy man after all.”

“Too busy,” you mutter under your breath.

“Oh? How telling, darling” he grins at you devilishly.

You shoot him an unimpressed look, turning so that your back is to him.

“If I had known you were going to be so difficult, I would’ve brought you something,” he says, his hand squeezing your hip.

You don’t respond. He’s letting out another sigh, his Evol activating as he turns you back towards him.

“Must you always be so stubborn?” he whispers.

You get lost in his eyes and his hand cups your cheek again as he lowers his head towards yours.

“I’ve missed you,” he confesses, his lips brushing over yours.

Your cheeks flush. You weren’t exactly expecting him to confess that he had been missing you. It appeared as though you were both entering dangerous territory. Festering feelings only led to a convoluted mind.

There’s a smirk on his face and you can feel him plant a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Aren’t you going to return my affection?” he asks, his nose nudging against yours, “I’ve been generous, haven’t I?”

You’re too stubborn to respond and he huffs out a laugh, eyes glimmering with mirth.

“Very well,” Sylus says, “I suppose I’ll just have to fuck it out of you.”

His lips are on yours in an instant. This kiss isn’t rushed like when you had first kissed, languid instead of rough. The soft sounds of your lips smacking together fills the room and Sylus can’t keep his hands off of you, his palms smoothing over your waist and hips, squeezing at the fat he can grab.

Sylus is pulling away, sitting up so his back is against the headboard of your bed. He offers you his hand and you take it, letting him pull you towards him. You settle onto his lap, straddling him, thighs on either side of his hips. He’s kissing you again and it’s you that’s cupping his cheek, guiding him.

He groans into your mouth and you whine back, arms looping around his neck. There’s spit leaking out from the sides of your mouths with how passionate the kisses have become. Sylus licks into your mouth, his tongue grazing yours. Your hips are beginning to rock, gasping into his mouth when you feel his hardness between your thighs. The fact that you have this much of an effect has you smiling against his lips.

“Something funny?” he asks, peering down at you.

You shake your head, your thumb swiping over his lips gently, “I just didn’t expect you to be so… affected by me.”

“Perhaps you aren’t aware of your own allure then,” he says, head dipping down to kiss you again.

You turn your head however, and his lips end up landing against your cheek. He tries to kiss you again and you deny him, sucking in a deep breath to gather your wavering confidence.

“I want you in my mouth,” you whisper, staring up into his eyes.

There’s a smirk spreading across his face at your admission.

“Don’t laugh!” you whine, smacking his chest.

“It appears I may be a bad influence,” he says, his thumb stroking over your jaw, “or perhaps I am yet to discover the depths of your depravity.”

He’s leaning forward, grip tightening on your chin to give you a kiss that you can’t escape.

“Go on then,” Sylus says, letting go of you.

You move off of his lap, settling between his spread thighs. Your hungry eyes take in the bulge under the fabric of his sweatpants, a small smile spreading across your face.

Leaning forward, you press a kiss to his clothed cock. It twitches under your lips and you hum softly, fingers pulling down his sweatpants to free his cock.

You let out a sigh when his cock springs out, your hand reaching for it greedily. The throb of his cock is hard to ignore, and you’re sneaking a glance up at Sylus.

He’s staring at you, his eyes dark. You can feel his fingers spread across your scalp, threading into your hair. It has you leaning forward, your eyes on his as you kiss the tip of his fat cock gently.

Sylus shudders, biting his lip. You frown when he doesn’t make any noises. Renewing your efforts, your hand squeezes a little tighter, eyes catching on the way pre-cum gathers at the tip.

It has your mouth opening eagerly, tongue lapping up his arousal. The taste only has you addicted, mouth enveloping the head of his cock.

Sylus groans, his hand tightening in your hair.

“I think you have missed me,” he says through gritted teeth.

You shake your head, eyes fluttering shut as you sink your mouth down on him further. His cock is so thick your mouth has already stretched out, struggling to keep your teeth from grazing against his sensitive skin.

“Keep going, baby” he murmurs, his hand guiding your movements. You can’t fit him into your mouth, not entirely, so it has your hand stroking around the length you can’t reach.

Sylus begins to guide your head, letting your mouth slide up and down his cock as you swirl your tongue. His head is falling back, and you whine when you see the bob of his adam’s apple.

Your mouth suckles harder against the blushed head of his cock, more pre-cum filling your mouth. You swallow it down eagerly, making a soft noise at the taste. Pulling off, you press some more sticky kisses against the tip of his cock and you smile when Sylus nearly whines.

His cheeks are pink when you look up at him, his pupils dilated with lust.

“I don’t take kindly to teasing,” he says hoarsely, his hand brushing yours away as he grasps the base of his cock.

You pout up at him, annoyed that he had removed your hand. Even you don’t know the depths of your own lascivious nature as your head dips lower, mouth latching onto his fat balls.

You bite back a laugh when he grunts, your mouth opening as you suck one of them into your mouth. It feels so good and you’re moaning around it, pussy beginning to ache with want. Sylus strokes himself and you keep your eyes on his, tilting your head as you try and fit both of his balls into your mouth.

“How unbecoming of a Hunter,” he hisses, brows drawing in together as his gaze hardens, “do they know how filthy you are? Sucking my balls into your mouth like a whore .”

You whine, sucking harder around his balls. The taste of his skin has your head swimming, eyes slipping shut. It’s almost relieving, your mind taking solace at the fact that you don’t have to be in control.

Pain stings across your scalp as Sylus tugs on your hair, pulling your head up. Almost immediately, your tongue is lolling out and he moans, smacking his cock against the pinkness of your tongue.

“Fuck,” he whispers, “you look beautiful like this.”

You smile, ignoring the uncomfortable ache in your stomach at his compliment, mouth wrapping around his cock again.

“Take it, baby” he continues, his hand pushing your head down slowly. He’s entirely too big, your eyes beginning to water with how far down your throat he is.

You do your best, head bobbing until your nails are scratching down his thighs, leaving red welts as he pushes your head down fully, your nose hitting the tufts of hair at the base of his cock.

He pulls you up soon after, cooing at your watery eyes as you cough.

“You’re too big,” you murmur, opting to place soft kisses along his length.

He hums, hand cupping your jaw.

“I could always train you.”

The utterance of such words has your breath hitching and he’s grinning at you, his head lowering as he kisses you sloppily.

Sylus tugs you up, pulling you back onto his lap.

“Are you sure you didn’t miss me?” he asks, thumbs brushing away the tears that had wet your cheeks when you were swallowing around him.

You nod. His tone has you questioning your relationship with him however. There’s always a sense of softness underlying his actions, as though Sylus sees you for something more .

He’s making a mess of your feelings, pulling you apart piece by piece and putting you back together the way he wants, pieces of his tenderness embedded within you, much like the Aether Core.

“A shame,” he murmurs, his eyes boring into yours.

You know he can see through your little facade. It’s why the next kiss he gives you is the most tender one yet. His lips work against yours gently, his hands cradling your head. There’s an unspoken promise held within it.

But there isn’t time to dwell on the feelings that are blooming in your heart. Time is sparse in a world like yours and you don’t know when you’ll see him again.

Sylus pats your hip and you’re squirming around, letting him pull off your shirt and shorts. He sighs when he sees your breasts, thumbs brushing the underside of them before he’s reaching for your nipples.

You whimper, head tipping back as he gropes at the fat of your tits. To distract yourself, your hand is slipping between the two of you, hand finding his hard cock. It wraps around him and you begin to stroke the throbbing length.

Sylus lets out a low groan at the feeling of your soft hand caressing him. His eyes flutter shut as he sucks your nipple into your mouth. You gasp when he bites down gently, feeling the catch of his teeth on your sensitive skin.

He pulls off of your breast with a pop , and you can hardly bare it anymore, pushing at his shoulders to rise up. Sylus watches with lust-lidded eyes as you grasp his cock, pressing it against where you need him most. He grips your hips, sending you a lazy grin.

“I must say I do enjoy having you on top of me,” he murmurs, his thumb finding your clit.

You whimper, heat coursing through you as he rubs the little bud, his hand guiding you to sink down on him. You don’t think you could ever get used to the stretch of his cock, the way he sits snug inside of you, as though you were made for each other.

“ Fuck ,” you whimper, hands pressing against his chest, “you- you’re so big .”

“So you’ve said,” Sylus smiles, his hand squeezing your ass, “now indulge me. ”

You nod, hips rolling against his lap. He reaches for your hands, fingers lacing together, a feeling you had dearly missed. Peering up into his eyes, you squeeze his hands, a serene smile spreading across your face as your hips rise and fall.

Sylus groans at the feeling of your skin slapping against his thighs with every bounce on his lap. The tip of his cock hits the sensitive spot deep inside of your cunt so deliciously that you’ve begun to drool, a cockdrunk giggle slipping out of you as you ride him.

The giggle morphs into a moan when he spanks your ass, your body jolting forward. Sylus’s touches have grown rougher, his hands squeezing almost painfully at your flesh.

“Tell me you miss me,” he hisses and you squeak when you feel him grip your hips, using you like a doll for pleasure when he plants his feet flat against your bed, his hips thrusting up so he can bury his cock in your hot pussy.

“I don’t,” you hiccup, hands gripping his shoulders as you try to keep up with the roughness of his movements.

Sylus growls and you feel like shrinking away when you see the glare on his face. He almost seems… desperate. You both understand what’s unfolding in this very moment. Desperation, validation, affection. He seeks it from you as though he were a tempest.

His hand shoots out, gripping your cheeks. You can feel your lips jut out into a pout and he’s leaning forward kissing you messily. You whine, pressing yourself closer, tits squishing against his firm chest. His hips have never slowed, and you’re gasping into his mouth, hands slipping into his hair as he bounces you on his cock.

“Did it ever cross your mind that we may be bound to one another?” Sylus says, his words spoken against your lips.

“Bound?” you pant, your arm wrapping around his neck to support yourself as the burn in your thighs grows more intense.

“Bound,” he affirms, “the Aether Core. It ties me to you in a way that I cannot be tied to another. Perhaps-” he grunts when you slump against him, your hips swaying back to meet his thrusts so that your cunt can swallow his cock, “ perhaps you are my other half .”

The idea he’s proposing sounds absurd. It’s no less than implying the two of you are meant to be together.

“Don’t- don’t be stupid, Sylus,” you say, feeling his lips leave stinging kisses across your sternum before finding your breast against, his mouth enveloping the mound.

He nips the side of your breast in retaliation.

“I am not stupid,” he murmurs, his tongue flicking against your nipple.

“You are ,” you protest, thighs squeezing tighter around his hips when his hand slips between your bodies, thumb rubbing against your clit again.

“I am not ,” he affirms, his forehead nudging against yours so he can stare deep into your eyes.

“I can see it,” Sylus says softly, his nose nuzzling yours, “I can see it in your eyes. The want, the longing . You have missed me.”

You open your mouth to protest but he’s drowning your voice out with a kiss. He swallows every word that threatens to come out, his cock driving deeper and deeper until you’re crying out.

“I missed you!”

He lets out a laugh and you tuck your face into the crook of his neck, hiding your embarrassed expression.

“No need to be so shy,” he whispers, “I may revel in the fact that you’ve missed me, but you’re forgetting about my own feelings.”

He grasps your hips, his pace slowing slightly, until you can feel his entire length press inside of you.

“No one else will ever feel this,” he whispers, strong arms wrapping around your waist, “no one else will ever be balls deep in this pretty, little cunt.”

You sink your teeth into his shoulder, moaning.

“That’s it,” he coos, and the drag of his cock is too hard to ignore, your walls clenching around him tightly as though not wanting to let him go.

“ My pretty pussy,” he whispers against your ear “ my pretty, little Hunter. No one will ever have you.”

His possession has you shuddering, face pressing against his neck as you come around him. Sylus grits his teeth, the squelch of your cunt growing louder as your slick drips down his length, coating his balls.

“I only want you,” you whisper, cupping his cheek so you can kiss along his jaw, “I only want you so- so come for me .”

Sylus doesn’t think he’s ever heard you sound so sweet. The lilt of your words, the softness of your voice. It has him groaning loudly, his hands pulling you down, making sure your pussy is flush against the base of his cock as he comes.

You can feel the warmth of his cum, the way his sticky release covers the insides of your pussy. Your lips find his and you kiss him slowly, sweetly as though confessing your own heart’s desire.

He rubs his hands against your back soon after, your head falling against his shoulder. His cock softens inside of you and wetness between your thighs is almost uncomfortable.

Sylus lays you down and you whimper when his cock slips out of you. He grins at the sight of your trembling thighs, his lithe fingers spreading your folds to find the mess of both your releases leaking out of you.

“A vision,” he murmurs, his fingers rubbing against your clit gently and you try to push his hand away, whimpering when the overstimulation has your entire body jolting.

He ignores you, his other hand clasping yours as he caresses your pussy, playing with your folds before he’s lowering his head, placing soft kisses against your mound. Sylus licks up a long stripe, collecting both of your cum on his tongue before he’s pressing his lips against yours, feeding you the mix of essences.

You moan at the taste, squeezing his hand as you suck on his tongue sloppily. He smiles against your lips, pecking them gently before he’s drawing back.

Your body is utterly spent, eyes slipping shut. You can feel Sylus moving, feeling his lips against your cheek as he peppers fleeting kisses across your face while a warm cloth swipes between your sore thighs.

Sylus tugs you into his chest and you press yourself closer, face burying itself into his chest.

“I missed you,” you repeat, quieter this time.

He hums, his hand stroking your hair soothingly as you both unwind.

“I know,” Sylus murmurs, tilting your head so he can press a kiss to your forehead.

You feel your heart swell at the affection and it has you peering up into his eyes.

“Have I surprised you?” he asks, a smirk settling on his face.

“You always surprise me,” you breathe out, trying to meld your body against his.

He grins, arm slinging around your waist comfortably.

“Will you stay?” you ask after a few moments, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

You watch as his eyes shut and it’s you that’s petting his hair this time, playing with the soft strands as he contemplates your question.

“For a few days,” he whispers, his hand finding yours.

Sylus intertwines his fingers with yours, bringing your hand closer to his mouth as he places reverent kisses across your knuckles.

It’s enough for now, you think, when he looks into your eyes.

It’s enough for now because Sylus will always find his way back to you.

Across the vast expanse of deep space, you will always be his.

#sylus smut #sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #lnd sylus #lnd smut #sylus qin #love and deepspace mc #sylus x you #sylus x mc

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officialaemondtargaryen · 3 months

Text

Dinner & Diatribes

❝i knew it from the first look of mischief in your eye.❞

Summary: You both swiped right and suddenly you're standing in a stranger's kitchen while he makes you spaghetti.

Pairing: Modern Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Author’s Note: this might be the most self-indulgent fic i've ever written, so fair warning. also, thank you tom, who inspired this by saying that dinner & diatribes would be aegon's hozier song. it's just true. anyways, this was really fun to write.

Warnings: language, recreational drug use, alcohol use, fluff, intense sexual situations (including: oral sex - female receiving, sexual intercourse - p in v), just two single people who are horny, more fluff, aegon being so cute that i couldn't stop smiling the whole time i was writing this.

It was precisely 9:39 PM on a Tuesday.

You were sitting cross-legged on your couch, nose deep in a fresh murder mystery that you had been working through for the last two days. There was a lit joint between your fingers that you were nursing, taking little hits so that it wouldn’t completely burn out, and on the cushion next to you, your phone softly vibrates and lights up; a familiar icon flashes across the screen and you can easily make out the words, “It’s a Match” from the corner of your eye.

It’d been a regular occurrence since you had downloaded that accursed app.

You’d been single for far too long, according to your best friend, though you hadn’t really noticed. The sweet silence of a solitary life was something that you had enjoyed for the most part. It wasn’t even like your online dating life had really taken off, either. You’d get matches but hardly anyone would reach out in any way that made you feel like they were serious. They wanted your Snapchat username, or they were in an ‘open’ relationship or asking for a threesome, and one guy even asked if you would send him pictures of your feet. Even some of the ones you thought were serious about taking you out- or even just hooking up- would end up ghosting you before anything actually happened.

“It’s not supposed to be serious,” you could hear your friend’s words rattling around in your brain. You shake your head and focus once again on your book; they have a suspect, it’s the best friend! How fitting.

Once again, your phone lights up and vibrates. Not wanting to be distracted from the plot, you ignore your new match and get back to your mystery with anticipation; the best friend is about to confess. You go to take another hit of your joint and frown upon realizing it’s burnt out. As you move to grab your lighter, in comes another message, and another, and another. You stop what you’re doing and pick up your phone, swiping at the screen until you find the culprit. He’s known only as Aegon T, and according to the one sentence he has written on his profile, he has a dog. You swipe through his pictures- the dog is a golden retriever, the man looks like a golden retriever.

In the message thread, he’s basically talking to himself.

There’s four new messages waiting for you, while three little dots begin flashing at the bottom of the screen; disappearing and reappearing as you read what he’s already sent.

“So, I’m high.”

“And I am making spaghetti… and it’s really good.”

“At least I hope it’s really good, it could just be the weed…”

“I could use a taste-tester, if you’re up for it? I can’t pay you or anything, but it’s honest work 😏”

Aegon begins typing again and you watch the screen, a smirk on your lips. You are 99% sure that the spaghetti is truly an innuendo for what he really wants and have half a heart to just block him, but you watch as those little gray dots continue in the bottom left corner of the screen; he’s going back and forth with himself and you can’t help but find it oddly cute. Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you contemplate a witty response, but before you can even begin typing, he sends a fifth message.

“That was weird as fuck, right?”

Then a sixth.

“You probably don’t want to come over to some random guy’s house on a Tuesday.”

He finishes up with a seventh message.

“Unless you do…”

He almost sends an apology. After all, what's another message? He’s already fucked this whole thing up; not even giving himself a chance before he nose-dived. If he was being honest, he should just go ahead and delete his whole account; save you from secondhand embarrassment and save himself from repeating the same mistake again in the future. He sets the phone down on the kitchen counter and goes back to ripping bong hits to calm his nerves. Though, he’s unable to keep himself from checking his phone for a response; a response that likely wasn’t going to come and he’d spend the rest of his night feeling like a complete idiot.

Seven back-to-back messages should have screamed ‘red flag’, but you’re glancing at the clock as if you were seriously contemplating taking this stranger up on his offer. After all, you do have needs just as much as the next person. But, you’re wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of pajama shorts, your hair’s a mess, and you were covered in the crumbs of your munchie snacks. Meaning, you were nowhere close to being prepared for what was sure to happen between you and this random stoner offering you dinner.

Yet, you respond to him, “I could never turn down spaghetti”.

Aegon’s stirring the sauce when he gets your message. He’s instantly elated, thrusting a celebratory fist into the air. His fingers fly across the keyboard swiftly, sending another quick message, “Atta girl 🙃 My place is on the corner of 9th and 51st, above Jasper’s.”

“Be there soon,” you reply with haste.

It was apartment #4 and you made sure to text your friend the address, and given name of your potential murderer, and also share your location for her to keep an eye out. She says all you have to do is text her at any time if you need her to call and bail you out with a fake emergency. All she asks in return is for you to have fun and let her know if you are planning on spending the night- which was an idea that you weren’t opposed to, but it wasn’t something you were planning on.

You’re nervous as you stand outside of the door to his apartment, fist hovering for a moment. Now’s the time to make a fast exit- you haven’t met him, you could turn around right now and never meet him. You could wake up alive in the morning, safe in your own bed. Or, you can knock on the door and have what might be a really nice spaghetti dinner with a really nice guy. Hell, he could even be the love of your life and in fifty years you’ll both look back on this day and laugh about how you met on Tinder and how you were stupid enough to go to his house and not a public place.

Finally, you knock.

Aegon puts the lid back on his spaghetti sauce and shuffles into the living room. Sunfyre is on the couch with his ears perked; his tail’s wagging and he’s panting eagerly, waiting patiently to meet this new visitor. Aegon whispers over to him, “wish me luck,” and thinks to himself, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish. He peers through the peephole when he approaches the door and there you are, a sigh of relief deflates his chest.

“Oh, thank God,” you can hear him say as the door swings open. His accent is surprisingly British. “You’re real.”

The very first thing that you notice are his eyes. They’re piercing; somehow blue and lavender at the same time– the color of a warm, summer sunrise and they’re crinkling at the edges as he smiles. He’s wearing a pair of dark gray sweats and a pale green hoodie, and the only word that comes to mind when you look at him is warmth. He’s somehow more attractive in person than he is in the pictures on his profile, which you didn’t think was possible, but he’s standing right in front of you and you can’t help but think to yourself, he doesn’t look like a murderer.

Then again, neither did Ted Bundy.

Aegon stands there for a moment, just staring at you, unable to do anything else. His words escape him, he can barely even breathe. You look exactly the same as your pictures; even without the makeup and even in the shitty, fluorescent overhead lights of the hallway. Even in a sweatshirt and pajama shorts, you’re stunning. He’s having a hard time believing that you actually showed up and he doesn’t realize that he’s been staring for much too long until you shrug back at him.

“Did you think I wasn’t?” You ask with creased brows and a lopsided smile.

The corners of his lips pull upwards as he looks at you, “I don’t know. You’re just so beautiful, I’m still not entirely convinced you aren’t some sort of hologram… or a robot.”

“Wow, you’re pretty smooth,” you say with a playful smirk, desperately trying to keep your composure— trying to play it cool, hoping that he hasn’t caught on to the fact that you’re secretly spiraling, because it took all of one smile and one compliment and you were done for. “But, I’ll have you know that flattery won’t work on me. I’m here for the spaghetti and the spaghetti alone.”

“My apologies,” Aegon says with a chuckle as he holds his hands up defensively. “Right this way, then.”

He steps to the side, allowing you to enter his apartment, and shuts the door behind you. It’s nice, clean, smells like fresh baked bread and tomato sauce. There’s niche artwork adorning the walls, he’s got candles burning, and there’s some lowkey, downtempo R&B playing softly in the background. He quickly moves past you and disappears into the kitchen, leaving you to follow him.

However, before you can take all of two steps into his apartment, a flash of golden fur is suddenly at your hip, pawing for attention. You drop down to a knee and happily accept any and all kisses from the pup. “Oh! Hi, what’s your name?”

Aegon sticks his head around the corner and says, “That is Sunfyre. In case you were wonderin’, he’s a very good judge of character and I will be consultin’ with him later where you’re concerned, fair warning.”

You roll your eyes and scratch behind Sunfyre’s ears, his tail thumps in approval.

“Would you like something to drink?” He continues and disappears back into the kitchen. “I’ve got wine and bottled water. Oh, and milk?” There’s a rustling in the kitchen before Aegon adds with a nervous chuckle, “scratch that, there is no milk.”

You politely excuse yourself from Sunfyre and step into the small dining room off of the kitchen.

There’s a grin on your lips, which you pursed so that he doesn’t think you’re laughing at him. Sunfyre joins the two of you and circles around his owner’s legs as Aegon empties an almost full half-gallon of milk down the drain. His kitchen is small but looks to be well used, which you appreciate. You know almost nothing about this man, other than his name- if ‘Aegon’ was even his real name- and the name of his dog, and yet here you were, standing in the threshold of his kitchen with a strange sense of comfortability as if you had been lifelong pals.

“Water is fine,” you tell him.

He produces a bottle of water from his fridge and tosses it over to you with ease and goes back to the stove. You step further into the kitchen, taking in your surroundings. The kitchen, like the living room, is covered in artwork and vintage decor- things you’d only find in some obscure thrift store or estate sale. On the refrigerator are a collection of magnets from different cities and countries, real touristy type shit. Some of them even had names on them; Alexander, Aaron, Alistair, Alan, Adolf.

Maybe these are the names of people he’s killed.

“You travel a lot?” You ask, trying to keep the conversation going.

“I try to,” he says from over his shoulder as he continues to stir the sauce. You can hear him set the lid back on the pot. “Most of those are from my sister, Helaena. She thinks it’s hilarious to give me magnets with random ‘A’ names since you’ll never find the name Aegon on any of those,” he says from behind you. He’s leaning against the counter with a half glass of wine. You quirk an eyebrow at him, not fully convinced. “She has a few from me that say Helen.”

“Is that her?” You ask, finger pointing to a pretty blonde in one of the many photographs he had pinned up.

He nods and takes a step closer to you. He’s so close that you can feel his warmth, smell his aftershave. The proximity causes you to blush and he smirks in response, leaning over your shoulder as he points to the other people in the pictures. “Those two are my little brothers, Aemond and Daeron,” he claims and then points to two women. “That’s my half-sister, Rhae, and next to her is my mother.”

“The redhead?” You ask surprised, given she didn’t look like she could be old enough to have four grown children. He nods and takes a step back, leaning against the counter with half-lidded eyes and a tipsy blush. “She looks like she could be your sister,” you say softly, turning back to glance at all of the faces; he seemed proud of his family, like they were very close.

You turn away from the fridge and lean against the counter at his side. It’s quiet for a moment, save for the music and the sound of boiling water where the noodles were cooking. You look at him and the corners of your lips can’t help but twist up into a shy smile, but you bite at the inside of your cheek out of nervous habit. He props himself up on his elbows, taking a sip of his wine, clearly comfortable with the silence.

“So,” you look up at him and his little smirk grows. “About the job…”

“Ah, yes,” he nods. “As I stated earlier, I won’t be able to pay you a monetary wage, but the position does come with a benefits package.”

“And what exactly would this benefits package include?” There’s an innocent flirtatiousness in your voice that only adds to the tension.

“Outside of the free gourmet meals that I would be providin’ to ya, which is obviously the most important part,” he smiles and steps to the side to grab a spoon from the drawer and holds it out to you. Your fingers softly close around his as you pluck the utensil from his grasp. He clears his throat to distract from the fact that he was visibly flustered from the slight touch. “There’s also unlimited cuddle sessions,” before he can finish, you shoot him a look. “With Sunfyre, of course! He’s the real boss ‘round here, after all.”

“Cuddling with the boss?” You quirk an eyebrow and look down at the golden retriever, his eyes round and gleaming; clearly waiting for a hand-out. “Sounds like a conflict of interest to me.”

“Well, if it’s a conflict of interest you’re worried about,” he counters quickly with a soft yet playful tone. “I s’pose we could renegotiate the terms of the agreement and you could have me instead.”

“I’m listening.”

“He might be better at cuddling for obvious reasons and he might be better lookin’,” Aegon continues. “But, I give better backrubs. I mean, I have thumbs and he don’t. You can’t give decent backrubs without thumbs, can you? Plus, he’s a sloppy kisser.”

“Oh, you’re really trying to sweeten the deal now, huh? Backrubs and kisses? I must admit, that is quite a compelling offer,” you muse. “It seems my decision hinders on whether or not you can actually cook, wouldn’t want to accept the position blindly, now would I?”

“Are ya doubtin’ my skills?” He asked playfully.

“No offense, but you possess the aura of someone who could fuck up a can of Spaghettios,” you tell him with a sincere smile. “So, forgive me if I don't get my hopes up.”

Aegon laughs and it’s a warm and infectious sound that fills the kitchen. It’s genuine, as is his perfect smile. You can’t seem to keep yourself from staring; eyes softly tracing every detail of his face– from his full, pink pout, to the scar above his right eyebrow, and the dimple of his chin– thinking to yourself that you’ve never seen a man more beautiful. His smile turns back into a smirk as he notices you staring at his lips and you look up to meet his eyes. There’s something about the way he looks at you that leaves you feeling vulnerable. His gaze softens as you look away, turning your attention back to the spaghetti sauce on the stove in front of you to distract yourself from the blush creeping up your neck.

There’s only one way this night ends.

It was obvious before you even left your house and it was certainly obvious now.

“Go on, then,” he prods, motioning to the pot on the stovetop.

His eyes are wide with anticipation as you dip into the simmering sauce, stirring it a few times before bringing the spoon to your lips. He’s nervous; it’s his mother’s recipe– one he’s spent years perfecting– but with his luck, you will most likely think it’s steaming garbage. Yet, he watches intently; holding his breath as your perfect lips curl to blow softly, cooling the sauce before you finally taste it.

The moment the spoon touches your tongue, you're determined to remain impartial. After all, you’ve had your fair share of disappointing meals from men who’ve claimed to be great cooks. Aegon certainly could be the very latest and you wouldn’t be at all surprised. So, you keep your expectations low, and try your hardest to remain stoic, but as the flavors begin to unfold, you can feel your resolve wavering.

It’s good. Better than most.

Reluctantly, you have to admit that this is the second-best sauce you’ve ever had, right after your grandmother’s. You glance up at Aegon, who’s watching you with a mix of anxiety and hope, and you can’t help but smile.

“I have to give it to you,” you say, your voice betraying a hint of admiration. “This is incredible. Almost as good as my grandmother’s.”

The relief and pride that spread across his face makes your heart flutter.

“Yeah?” He asks with a toothy grin.

“I’m still not completely convinced that you can actually cook, but you can– at the very least– make some top-notch spaghetti sauce,” you tell him as you place your spoon to the side.

“Top-notch, eh?” He asks playfully as he begins plating your meal. “I’ll take it.”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you say to him with a laugh. “It’s just spaghetti sauce.”

“Just spaghetti sauce? Don’t let my mum hear you say that,” he says with a smirk, setting a full plate in front of you on the counter. “I guess I’ll just have to work extra hard on the next one.”

“Assuming there will be a next one,” you reply, tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “Though, you have set the bar pretty high tonight. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Well,” he murmurs as he steps closer, his body brushing against yours as he reaches around you to grab a plate. His lips are hovering above the shell of your ear, his voice low and teasing, causing your cheeks to immediately flush as the heat between the two of you intensifies. “I’m nothing if not a perfectionist.”

For a split second you expect for him to lean in for a kiss. Your heart is simultaneously skipping beats and racing at the same time; your breath catching in your throat as he leans in— But then he smirks, grabbing the plate and taking a step backwards. He’s doing it on purpose, you realize; his proximity expertly calculated to keep you on edge. You look up at him with wide, sparkling eyes and he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. The soft blush of your cheeks has his blood pumping and sends a surge of adrenaline through him. He’s trying his absolute best to play it cool but the way you’re biting your lip and looking at him has him unraveling.

“Is that so?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “What other skills do you have up your sleeve?”

His grin widens as he looks down at you, setting his empty plate to the side. His gaze, once again, drops to your lips. “I have a few tricks,” he says softly, his voice filled with promise. “But I doubt you’d believe me if I told you, so how about I just show you?”

“What?” You ask with a playful innocence. “Before dinner?”

“I’m not really in the mood for spaghetti anymore.”

“Oh?” Your smirk is only growing. “What are you in the mood for?”

Aegon says nothing, but a confident grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he rests his hands on your hips. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you in by the waist, until you’re pressed against him and his lips are on yours. The kiss is both gentle and urgent and a little bit awkward, as any first kiss should be. You felt like a teenager again, kissing a boy for the first time– butterflies in your stomach and all.

It takes no time at all for you to find your rhythm with him, and he deepens the kiss, pushing you up onto the kitchen counter to meet his height. Your arms naturally drape across his shoulders, your legs wrap around his middle. He’s completely taken over your mind, filling up every tiny space that he can fit into; the smell of his cologne, the scratch of his stubble against your skin, the feeling of his hands squeezing the flesh of your thighs– his fingertips teasing just underneath the hem of your shorts.

Breathless, he pulls away from you as he pulls your sweatshirt over your head. He stops for a moment to take in the sight of you; clad only in your bra and shorts, lips red and blotchy, swollen and full. You’re looking up at him from under your lashes, softly biting your bottom lip as you wait for him to continue. He gently lifts his hand up to your cheek and traces the curve of your cupid’s bow with his thumb, providing one last show of tenderness before he leans in to capture your lips in another searing kiss.

His touch is suddenly rushed; spreading a wildfire across your skin in the wake of his lips as he rips off the remainder of your clothes. It doesn’t take long at all before you’re sitting exposed on his kitchen counter in only a thong, blushing wildly and covering your face with your hands.

“No– no hiding,” he clicks his tongue and pulls your hands away from your face. “I want to see you.”

He whispers a string of profanities and compliments as his starving eyes roam your figure. Self-doubt creeps into your mind and you momentarily consider making a quick exit, convinced he won’t like what he sees, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel desired in a way you haven’t felt in a long time.

Aegon’s gaze is electrifying and intense, drawing you in and silencing your negative thoughts instantly. His hands pull you in by the waist, sliding you to the edge of the counter as his lips work their way down your chin and neck; leaving a trail of red marks down to your chest. He hums, smirking as he takes one of your breasts in his mouth. His hand kneads the other, rolling your hardened nipple between two fingers. Your head falls back, lips parted slightly as you breathe out his name.

Each sound he elicits from you urges him on even further until he’s on one knee, looking up at you from his position with those pretty eyes. He runs a hand up the back of your calf, softly teasing you with his fingertips before tossing your leg over his shoulder. You knew where he was going, and yet, you were still surprised as he began placing open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs; shivering in anticipation as goosebumps formed on your skin.

“You’re so wet,” he says proudly, praising you.

His eyes are locked with yours as his fingers delicately smooth over your clothed clit. He hooks a finger around the dampened cotton and pulls your thong to the side, groaning at the sight of your perfect pussy. Without wasting another second, Aegon’s mouth is suddenly on you and your hands immediately find the back of his head; fingers curling into the roots of his silver hair.

You roll your hips against his tongue, cursing out as your legs begin to shake. He moans, face still buried deep in you and the vibrations have you writhing. Both of his arms are wrapped around your thighs now, holding you tight to him, not letting up for even a second. Then he stands, lifting you up onto his shoulders. You squeal in shock, holding onto him tightly, but he doesn’t stop; he continues to devour you as he blindly carries you towards his bedroom.

When his knees hit the side of his bed, he tosses you back onto the mattress.

You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as he strips out of his clothes. . You can see the outline of his arousal; prominent and pressing firmly against the fabric of his sweats. You bite your lip at the sight and he smirks as he catches your stare. His movements are unhurried, giving you ample time to appreciate the sight before you. His hoodie and shirt come off first, then his sweats, and you can’t help but notice the way that his muscles flex with each motion. He’s not overly built, but there’s a solid strength in his frame that is evident in the way he moves.

Outside, headlights from passing cars cast streaks of light and shadows across the walls of his room. It’s quiet, the music in the other room has stopped playing and all you can hear is the sound of your own heart beating in your ears. You swallow thickly, encompassed by the tension of the moment as he crawls up the length of your body; placing tender kisses along your skin. His lips leave a trail of warmth, each touch igniting a spark that travels through your entire body.

When he reaches your face, he pauses, his breath mingling with yours as he hovers just inches away. The anticipation builds, thick and electric in the air between you. His lips find yours in a kiss that starts slow and tender but quickly deepens; fingers threading through your hair as he pulls you closer, his body pressing yours deeper into the plush mattress. Your hands explore his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, feeling the tension and strength beneath his skin and coming to rest on his shoulders; gripping tightly as he continues to worship your body with his mouth. Each kiss, each touch, is deliberate, heightening your senses and pulling you further into the moment.

You curse at the feeling of his girth against your entrance. Your hand moves up to the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips as he presses slowly into you.

“Oh fuck,” he whimpers into the crook of your neck as his arms become weak.

He knows that he won’t last like this; it’s been a while and you feel way too good. He’s slow at first, wanting to steady himself and maintain control, but his rhythm picks up quickly; hips moving with an unrelenting rhythm, each thrust bringing you both closer to the edge. You can feel his muscles tense, his grip on you tightening as he buries his face in your neck. His moans are a mix of pleasure and desperation, and you can tell he’s fighting to hold back.

You tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, feeling the overwhelming need to reach that peak together. His pace quickens, the tension in his body building to a breaking point. You feel the same pressure inside of you mounting before it’s suddenly crashing over you like a wave. He follows seconds later, a low groan escaping his lips as he spills into you. The intensity of the moment leaves you both breathless and clinging to each other, bathing in the afterglow.

“That was incredible,” he murmurs against your skin, head pressed to your chest as you stroke his hair softly. His eyes flutter shut as he listens to the sounds of your heartbeat.

You hum in agreement, smiling to yourself as you savor the peacefulness of the moment.

Suddenly, you’re joined by Sunfyre jumping up on the bed, his tail wagging enthusiastically. You smile at him and pat the empty space next to you, inviting him to join your cuddle session. He eagerly accepts the invitation, circling the bed a few times before snuggling up next to you. Aegon lifts his head and smiles, clearly pleased that you would be so open to having the dog in bed with you. He wraps his arm around both you and Sunfyre, pulling you closer.

“This is perfect,” he says softly, his voice filled with contentment as he lays his head back on your chest.

"So, about that job offer," you say playfully, your fingers tracing patterns along his skin. "I think I'll accept the position. When would you like for me to start?"

He lifts his head to look at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “How about tomorrow night at seven?”

Before you can respond, a distinct burning smell reaches your nose. Your brows furrow as you sniff the air. “Do you smell that?”

Aegon’s eyes widen in realization. “The spaghetti!”

He jumps up from the bed, pulling on his clothes quickly, and scrambles into the kitchen. You follow behind him, tossing one of his t-shirts over your head and meet him in the kitchen.

“I guess I forgot to turn off the burner,” Aegon looks disappointed but then chuckles, shaking his head. He looks at you with a glint in his eye and smirks. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”

“Oh, that sucks!” You laugh, playfully nudging him. “Is it too late to back out of the job now?”

“Way too late for that,” he says as he pulls you into a soft kiss, silencing any doubts immediately. “You’re mine now.”

“Mm,” you hum against his lips. “But I came here for the spaghetti.”

He chuckles and pulls back slightly. “Will you settle for pizza?”

“I’ll settle for anything, as long as it’s with you,” you say with a smile as you wrap your arms around his waist. “And as long as there’s extra cheese!”

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joelmillerisapunk · 4 months

Text

Dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 7,103 - oops

Summary: When Joel accidentally stumbles upon your only fans he convinces himself he's only subscribing to help you through college. And then you send him his top-tier subscriber personal video and he's fucked because you don't even know it's him your dad's best friend.

Warnings: 18+, reader has an only fans, unprotected p in v, f!andm! oral receiving, age gap (at least 10 years), reader is in her 20's, alcohol consumption, there's a dick pic, reader posts nudes of herself on her OF so if you do not like that please scroll awaaaaaay thanks <3 two consenting adults.

Notes: I listened to Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter a hundred too many times and couldn't sleep on this random idea. I got carried away, this was supposed to be a short one-shot and then I fell in love and married the idea so here we are. Tysm @saradika-graphics for the divider.

Joel’s never been on a site like this.

But his best buddy's enthusiasm was infectious. Convincing him that it's all the hype, ‘You should see the women on there man.’ So, after a long day at work, followed by a shower, he is perched in front of his computer, the screen's glow illuminating his skepticism.

With a deep breath, he navigates to the website, his fingers poised hesitantly over the keys. He starts scrolling through the front page, taking in the various content that is being shared. It's all very different from anything he's ever seen before, but he can see why his friend is so excited about it.

As he continues scrolling Joel's eyes widen in surprise. There you are right on the front page, not too far from the top, his friend's daughter, exuding confidence in a bikini and a sexy little pose, the very picture of carefree youth.

Denial is his first reaction as he quickly minimises the page, not believing he just saw that. It couldn't have been you. No way. But curiosity, that relentless beast, coaxes him back to the screen. The second glance confirms it; it's undeniably you, and the realization sends a jolt through him. He clicks on your profile, the rabbit hole beckoning.

His heart races as he sees more and more photos of you. Wearing lingerie in some of them, and bikinis in others, but never anything less. Then he finds the section with your paid content, looming like a forbidden fruit. The greyed-out thumbnails tease his imagination. He notices that he has to pay to see them and his mind races. What kinda stuff you got hidin’ here pretty girl?

Joel stops for a moment, unsure if he should really pay to see hidden content but before he can talk himself out of it, he enters his payment information, the justification that he is supporting you echoes hollowly in his mind. He clicks "subscribe." As soon as he does, the greyed-out photos become clear, and Joel's eyes widen in shock. He can't believe what he's seeing. You, completely naked, posing in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination.

He feels a mix of emotions - excitement, guilt, confusion. He knows he shouldn't be looking at these photos, but he can't help himself. He tells himself that it's just for a few minutes, just to see what's there. That he's just being curious, that he's just supporting you. But deep down, he knows that's not the whole truth and he knows that he'll be coming back to these photos again and again.

For now, though, he tells himself that it's okay. He's just satisfying his curiosity, and he's supporting his friend's daughter at the same time. He tells himself that it's a win-win situation, and he settles back in his chair to enjoy the photos. But as he scrolls through the photos, he can feel himself getting more and more aroused. He starts to rub his cock through his pants, and before long, he's jerking off to the images on the screen. knowing that he's doing something wrong but unable to stop himself.

Just as he's about to come, he gets a message from the website. It's from you, and you're thanking him for subscribing to the highest tier, where he gets a personal video from you.

Joel's heart races as he reads the message, wondering if you know it's him. But as he reads on, he realizes that you don't. You're just being friendly, asking him what he'd like to see you do or say in a personal video.

Joel pauses, wrestling with the decision. The offer is tantalizing, and he can feel the pull of his curiosity. He rationalizes that it's merely a harmless video, an extra indulgence. With a mix of excitement and trepidation, he convinces himself that there's no harm in satisfying his curiosity just this once.

Joel takes a deep breath and types out a reply to you, asking if you could wear a school girl uniform in the video. He feels a twinge of guilt for asking, but he can't help being curious what you would look like in one and how he would feel bending you over his knee in one.

—

A few days later, Joel receives a notification that his personal video is ready to be viewed. He takes his time, feeling guilty all over again but evidently he clicks on the link and waits for the video to load.

When the video starts, he's greeted with the sight of you, wearing a plaid skirt and a white blouse, looking as sexy as ever. You start to unbutton your blouse, revealing a lacy bra underneath. Joel feels his face flush with heat as he watches you, his heart pounding in his chest.You continue to tease him, running your fingers through your hair and biting your lower lip. Joel can feel himself getting more and more aroused, his cock straining against his pants.

Finally, you slip out of your skirt and bra, revealing your naked body underneath. Joel watches in amazement as you pose. And if that wasn't enough then you started talking to him, looking directly into the camera and speaking in a sultry voice. "Hi there, cowboy," you say, a playful smile on your lips. "I hope you're enjoying the video so far. I know I'm enjoying making it for you."

You run your hands over your body, caressing your breasts and your hips. "Do you like what you see?" you ask, your voice dripping with suggestion. "I've been thinking about you. Wondering what you're doing right now. Are you touching yourself? Are you thinking about me?"

You lean closer to the camera, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "I've been thinking about you too, baby. Wondering what it would be like to be with you. To feel your hands on my body."

You sit down on a black spinning chair, manoeuvring your legs so youre on full display for the camera, your fingers find your clit. "I'm so wet for you, daddy.” You moan out.

You start to touch yourself in earnest, your fingers moving faster and faster. "M’so close," you say, your breath coming in short gasps. "I want you to come with me. I want you to feel what I'm feeling. I want you to come for me daddy."

You throw your head back and moan, your body shudders with pleasure. "Yes, daddy. Yes! I'm coming so hard for you."

As the video comes to an end, you look back at the camera, your eyes shining with satisfaction. "I hope you enjoyed that, cowboy, can't wait to see what we do next.”

As the video comes to an end, Joel can't believe what he's just witnessed. He feels his orgasm building up inside of him, and before he knows it, he's coming in his pants - just from watching you.

As he looks back at the screen, he sees that there's a message waiting for him from you. You're thanking him for watching the video and asking if he enjoyed it. Damn you're quick with these messages. He didn't even know you could tell he watched it.

He stares at the screen for a moment unsure what to say

cowboy_jm: Yeah, I really enjoyed it. Thanks for making it for me darlin.

He hits send, feeling so awkward and out of his element. He hasn't flirted with another woman in ages and the fact you're at least ten years younger than him doesn't make it any easier.

A few moments later, he gets a reply from you.

you: I'm glad you enjoyed it, cowboy 😘 I had a lot of fun making it for you. Do you want to see more?

He shouldn't, he should just shut his computer down and cancel the membership later. But he can't, he can't help himself.

cowboy_jm: Yeah, I'd like that.

You send him a picture, and he feels his heart race as he opens it. It's a selfie of you, wearing the plaid skirt and white blouse from the video, with a playful smile on your lips.

you: Here's a little something extra for you, cowboy. I hope you like it. 😏

You can't do this for every top tier subscriber, could you? Then again the price tag did promise a lot more than the others did. Maybe not a lot of people were desperate enough to need to be talked up by a pretty little thing like you. But damn was he enjoying it.

cowboy_jm: Wow, you look absolutely stunning in that outfit. I could get used to seeing you like this.

You: Oh, I bet you could. 😉 You know, I've always wanted to ride a cowboy... or his horse.

Joel feels his face flush with heat as he reads your message. He can't believe you just said that, but he's also incredibly turned on. He's never had a conversation like this before, but he's finding that he really enjoys it.

cowboy_jm: Well, I'm sure we can work something out. I've got a pretty big horse.

you: Oh, I bet you do. I've always been a fan of big horses. Maybe one day I'll get to ride yours.

cowboy_jm: You can ride my horse anytime you want, darlin'. I promise you won't be disappointed.

you: I can't wait.

As the conversation comes to a close, Joel feels a sense of dread wash over him. He knows he's made a mistake. He tells himself that he'll figure something out later.

—

As you close your laptop, a thrill of excitement runs through you. The conversation has been so thrilling, so charged with flirtation and innuendo. You can tell whoever is behind this cowboy profile is probably a little older and not too experienced on a site like this.

You decide to do a little more digging before sending him anything else. You navigate to his profile, curious to learn more about this mysterious cowboy who's captured your interest. As you scroll through his vague faceless pictures and read his bio, your heart skips a beat. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks: "cowboy_jm" is none other than Joel Miller, your dad's best friend. The one coming over tomorrow for a BBQ

The shock is palpable. You've known Joel your entire life. He's been a constant presence at family barbecues, holiday gatherings, and birthday parties. The thought of him seeing your content, let alone subscribing to your highest tier, is both mortifying and exhilarating. You can't help but feel a twinge of guilt, but it's quickly overshadowed by a surge of mischievous excitement. The idea of playing a game with Joel, of having this secret, is too tempting to pass up. You decide to have a little fun with the situation. After all, he's the one who's been flirting with you, who's been watching your videos and messaging you. You tell yourself that he's a willing participant in this little charade.

With a playful smile, you decide to up the ante. You want to see just how far Joel is willing to go. You open up your messaging app and start typing.

you: Hey cowboy, I was just trying to get to sleep but need a little help. How about how about you send me a little something? 😉

You hit send and wait for his response. You know you're playing with fire, but you can't help yourself. You want to see if he's really as adventurous as he's been pretending to be. As you wait for his reply, you can't help but feel a sense of power. You're in control of this situation, and you're going to enjoy every minute of it. You know you should probably feel guilty for manipulating Joel like this, but the thrill of the game is too intoxicating.

Finally, your notifications go off, and you see a new message from Joel. You take a deep breath and open it.

cowboy_jm: Oh? And what did you have in mind, darlin'?

you: Well, I was thinking... maybe you could send me a little something to hold me over until I can have that ride. 😉

You hold your breath, waiting for his response. You're not sure if he'll go for it, but you're hoping he will.

cowboy_jm: I don't know, darlin'. I'm not sure if that's such a good idea.

you: Oh, come on, cowboy. I promise I'll make it worth your while. 😏

cowboy_jm: Well, I suppose I could make an exception... just this once.

You feel a surge of excitement as you read his message. You can't believe he's actually going to do it!

cowboy_jm: But you have to promise me something, darlin'. You have to promise that this stays between us. I don't want anyone else seein’

what I'm about to send you.

you: Oh, I promise. I won't tell a soul. 😉

cowboy_jm: Alright, darlin'. Here it is. 😘

As you gaze at the image Joel has sent, your breath hitches in your throat. The sight of his cock is both surprising and incredibly arousing. It's clear that he's not a young man, the maturity of his body is evident in the thick, veined shaft that stands proudly in the photo. The girth of it makes your fingers twitch with the desire to touch it, to feel its weight in your hands.

The skin is a rich, deep pink, stretched taut over the hardness beneath. The head is broad and flushed with a deeper hue, a bead of moisture glistening at the tip, hinting at his arousal and the urgency of his need. You can't help but imagine how it would feel inside you, filling you completely, the friction of his thrusts igniting a fire within your core.

You can't deny the beauty of his cock. It's a testament to his virility, to the raw, primal power that he possesses. The soft, dark and grey hair at the base contrasts with the smoothness of the shaft, adding to the visual feast before your eyes.

You feel a warmth spreading through your body, a heat that pools between your legs as you continue to admire the photo. The thought of having such a magnificent cock at your disposal, of being able to pleasure and be pleasured by it, sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

Taking a moment to compose yourself, you type out a response

you: Wow, cowboy. You didn't have to send me something so... impressive. 😏 you've definitely exceeded my expectations. I can't wait to see it in person.

You hit send before you can second-guess yourself, the thrill of the forbidden fueling your boldness. You know you're playing a dangerous game, but the allure of the unknown, the promise of untold pleasures, is too potent to resist.

As you wait for his reply, you can't help but touch yourself, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties to find the slickness that has gathered there. You imagine it's his hand, his fingers expertly coaxing you towards release, and the thought is enough to make you moan softly into the quiet of your room.

cowboy_jm: I'm looking forward to it too, darlin'. More than you know.

You can sense the anticipation in his messages, and it matches your own.

you: Well, I better let you go, cowboy. I've got a lot to do before bed. But I'll be thinking about you... and your impressive horse. 😉

cowboy_jm: Haha, I'll be thinking about you too, darlin'. Take care, and I'll see you soon.

As the evening winds down, Joel finds himself unable to shake the conversation from his mind. The image of you in that schoolgirl outfit, the sound of your voice as you called him 'daddy', the thrill of exchanging messages with you—it all feels like a dream, a forbidden fantasy come to life. He tries to focus on other things, but his thoughts keep drifting back to you.

The next day, Joel wakes up with a sense of nervous anticipation. He's supposed to go over to your dad's house and the thought of it sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He tries to push the thoughts of your online interactions out of his mind as he gets ready, reminding himself that he's just going over to hang out with his friend. But the image of you in that plaid skirt keeps creeping back into his thoughts, making it hard for him to concentrate on anything else.

—

As he pulls into the driveway, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what's to come. He walks up to the front door, his heart pounding in his chest. Your dad greets him with a firm handshake and a warm smile, completely oblivious to the secret between his best friend and his daughter. When he walks in he notices you're nowhere in sight, and can't decide if he's relieved or disappointed.

Your dad and Joel make small talk for a few minutes before your dad excuses himself to take a phone call, leaving Joel alone in the living room. And as if on queue you walk into the room with a confident stride, wearing the same plaid skirt from the video and a tight-fitting white blouse. You greet him with a playful smile, your eyes twinkling with mischief

"Hey, Joel," you say, your voice dripping with sweetness. "Can I get you something to drink?”

Joel feels his face flush with heat as he tries to maintain his composure. "Hey there, darlin', uh sure," he replies, trying to keep his voice steady. "You're looking... very nice today.”

You giggle and do a little twirl, the skirt flaring out slightly to give him a glimpse of your thighs. "Why, thank you," you say, batting your eyelashes at him. "You're looking pretty good yourself.”

Before he can say anything else you walk over to the fridge and bend over to grab a couple of drinks, your skirt rides up to reveal a glimpse of your bare pussy, so perfect and fuckable.

You hand him a beer and wink at him, your lips curling into a seductive smile. "Enjoy the view?”

Joel takes the beer from you, his hand shaking slightly. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his mind filled with images of you from the videos and the messages you've exchanged. He knows that he should excuse himself, that he should leave before things go any further, but he can't seem to tear himself away from you.

Just then, your father walks back into the room, oblivious to the tension between you. "Hey, Joel," he says, clapping him on the back. "I'm glad you could make it. Let's head out to the backyard. I've got the grill fired up.”

Joel nods and follows him outside, grateful for the distraction.

As the afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the backyard, Joel tries to focus on the conversation at hand, but his gaze keeps drifting back to you. The skirt you're wearing teases him with its familiarity, a tangible reminder of the illicit videos he's watched late at night, alone in the darkness of his room. The way the fabric swishes around your thighs as you move—it's enough to make his head spin and his heart race in his chest.

You seem to revel in his discomfort, your eyes sparkling with mischief every time you catch him staring. You're the perfect picture of innocence and seduction, flipping burgers on the grill, laughing at your dad's corny jokes, all the while subtly taunting Joel with your every move.

With each playful glance, each coy smile, you're pulling him deeper into your web, ensnaring him with the promise of forbidden pleasures. And Joel, for all his attempts at normalcy, can't help but be drawn in.

He reaches for another beer, the cool bottle a welcome relief from the heat that seems to be building inside him. The alcohol loosens his inhibitions, making it easier to laugh at your dad's anecdotes, to join in on the conversation, even as his mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of you.

As night approaches and the drinks continue flowing, your dad’s found his limit. He stands up from his lawn chair with a contented sigh. "Well, I think it's time for this old man to hit the hay," he announces, stretching his arms above his head. "You two kids have fun, but not too much fun, alright? Make sure you take the guestroom Joel."

You flash him a cheeky grin, the corners of your eyes crinkling with amusement. "Don't worry, Dad. We'll be good," you assure him, your gaze flicking briefly to Joel, who's suddenly found something incredibly interesting on the bottom of his beer bottle.

As your dad disappears into the house, the air between you and Joel grows charged with anticipation. The playful banter, the secret glances traded throughout the evening have led to this moment, where the unspoken promise of something more hangs heavy in the air.

The stars above twinkle with a knowing light, as if privy to the secret that simmers just beneath the surface. The night, once a backdrop to a casual gathering, now feels like an intimate cocoon, sheltering the two of you from the outside world.

Joel, with his guard lowered by the evening's camaraderie and the remnants of alcohol in his system, finds himself adrift in the sea of your gaze. The laughter and casual conversation that filled the air earlier has given way to silence.

You lean back in your chair, your eyes locked on Joel's and a mischievous smile paints your lips. "You know, Joel," you say, your voice low and teasing, "I've been thinking about our little chat yesterday."

Joel's heart skips a beat. "Oh? And what chat would that be, darlin'?" he asks, trying to keep his voice steady.

You lean forward, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "The one where you told me all about your - impressive horse," you say, your voice dripping with innuendo.

Joel nearly chokes on his beer, caught off guard by your boldness. He coughs and sputters, his face turning a shade of red that has nothing to do with the alcohol. "I... uh... “he stammers, his eyes darting nervously in the direction of the house. Joel feels the color drain from his face, his palms growing sweaty. He had hoped that the anonymity of the internet would keep his secret safe, but now, as he looks into your knowing eyes, he realizes that you've seen right through him this entire time. "I... uh... I'm not sure what you're talkin’ about," he stammers, his gaze darting nervously around the backyard.

You laugh, a soft, melodic sound that sends a shiver down Joel's spine. "Oh, come on, cowboy," you say, using his nickname on the site. "You don't have to be so shy about it."

Joel's eyes widen in shock, and he feels his face flush with heat. "How did you-?" he begins, but you cut him off with a wave of your hand.

"Let's just say I have my ways," you reply, your smile widening. "what's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

Joel runs a hand through his hair, his mind reeling. He had never imagined that his online interactions with you would spill over into the real world, and he's not sure how to handle the situation. "I just... I didn't think you knew it was me," he admits.

You lean back in your chair, your gaze never leaving his. "Well, I did some digging, and let's just say your profile picture was a bit of a giveaway," you say, a hint of amusement in your voice.

Joel feels his face grow even hotter, if that's possible. He had been so careful, so cautious, and yet, here he is, exposed and vulnerable.

"What's the matter, Joel? Scared?"

“It's not that, darlin'," he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... complicated."

"Life's complicated, cowboy," you say, your voice steady and sure. "But sometimes, you've just got to take the reins and ride it out.”

Before he can respond, you stand up and extend your hand towards him, a silent invitation to follow you into the unknown. Joel hesitates for a moment, his mind racing with the potential consequences of what he's about to do and what you could possibly be offering. But in the end, desire wins out over caution, and with a resigned sigh, he places his hand in yours.

You lead him through the quiet house, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpeting. As you reach the guest room, you pause and turn to face him, your hand resting on the doorknob.

"This is where you'll be sleeping tonight, cowboy," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "But remember, I'm just down the hall if you need anything.”

With that, you give him a playful wink and disappear down the hallway, leaving him standing there, his heart pounding and his mind filled with images of what he thought was going to happen and what might happen if he takes you up on your offer.

—

The next morning, Joel wakes up with a slight headache, the sunlight streaming in through the curtains. He sits up in bed, rubbing his temples, and tries to piece together the events of the previous night. His mind is foggy from the alcohol, but the memory of you in that skirt is crystal clear.

He gets up and stumbles out of the guest room, his bare feet padding against the cool hardwood floor. He's still half-asleep, his thoughts are muddled and disoriented, and in his groggy state, he accidentally turns the wrong way down the hallway.

Before he knows what's happening, he finds himself standing in the doorway of your bedroom. The door is slightly ajar, and through the crack, he can see you lying on the bed, your legs spread wide, your hand buried between your thighs. You're completely lost in the moment, your eyes are closed and your lips are parted in a silent moan. You're wearing a thin pair of panties.

Joel's heart stops in his chest as he watches you, his breath catches in his throat. He knows he should turn around and leave, but he can't seem to tear himself away. He's transfixed by the sight of you, the way your body moves, the soft, needy sounds you make as you touch yourself.

And then, as if sensing his presence, your eyes flutter open. For a moment, you just stare at him, your gaze filled with surprise and desire. But instead of stopping, instead of pushing him away, you moan his name, your voice husky and full of need.

“Joel," you whisper, your fingers still moving in slow, deliberate circles. "I've been waiting for you."

Joel feels a jolt of electricity shoot through his body, his cock hardening in his boxers. He steps into the room, his movements slow and hesitant, and you beckon him closer with a curl of your finger.

"Come here, cowboy," you purr, pulling your panties to the side to give him a better view.

Joel's mind is a whirlwind of emotions as he steps toward the bed, his body acting on instinct despite the lingering doubts in his mind. He's acutely aware of the line he's about to cross, yet, the sight of you, so wanton and unashamed, is an irresistible siren call that he cannot ignore.

He reaches the edge of the bed, his eyes locked on the intimate display before him. The scent of your arousal fills the air, a heady perfume that makes his head spin. He watches as you continue to pleasure yourself, your fingers dancing over your clit with practiced ease, your hips bucking in response to your own touch.

"Touch me, Joel," you beg, your voice trembling with need. "I need to feel you inside me.”

Joel swallows hard, his hands shaking as he reaches out to touch you. His fingers graze your inner thigh, the skin soft and warm beneath his touch. With a gentleness that belies the hunger in his eyes, Joel slides your panties down your legs, exposing you fully to his gaze. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him—your pussy glistening with arousal.

Joel positions himself between your thighs, his gaze never leaving yours as he lowers his head to taste you. The first touch of his tongue to your heated core elicits a sharp gasp from you, your body arching off the bed in response to the sudden sensation.

"Oh, God, Joel," you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair as he begins to explore you with his mouth. His tongue traces the contours of your pussy, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

He takes his time, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your body responding to his touch. His hands slide under your hips, pulling you closer, his tongue delving deeper into your depths. You can feel the tension building inside you, a coil of desire winding tighter with each passing moment.

"You taste so fuckin good, darlin'," Joel growls, his voice muffled by your flesh. He can feel your body trembling beneath him, your moans growing louder and more insistent as he continues his ministrations.

You're lost in a sea of sensation, your world narrowed down to the relentless rhythm of his tongue and the feel of his hands on your body. "I'm close, Joel," you gasp, your body tensing as the first waves of your orgasm begin to crest. "So close..."

With a final flick of his tongue, Joel sends you tumbling over the edge. Your body convulses as the orgasm rips through you, your muscles clenching around his tongue as you cry out his name. The pleasure is almost too much to bear, a white-hot surge of ecstasy that leaves you breathless and shaking.

As the aftershocks subside, Joel crawls up the bed to lie beside you, his body humming with need. You turn to face him, your eyes heavy-lidded with satisfaction, a sated smile playing on your lips. "That was... perfect," you murmur, your hand reaching down to stroke his rock-hard erection through his boxers. "But now it's your turn, cowboy."

Before Joel can respond, you're pushing him onto his back and deftly pulling down his boxers to free his straining cock. You lean down to take him in your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, your hand pumping the shaft in time with your movements. Joel groans, his hands fist the sheets as you work your magic on him. He can feel the pressure building in his balls, the telltale tingling that signals the approach of his orgasm. "Fuck, darlin'," he grunts, his body tensing.

“You're gonna make me come.”

You pull back, releasing him from your mouth with a wet pop. "Not yet," you say, a wicked gleam in your eye. "Wanna take that ride.” You straddle him, your hand guiding his cock to your entrance. You sink down onto him with a moan and your body stretches to accommodate his girth. Joel grips your hips, his eyes locked with yours as you begin to ride him, your movements are slow and deliberate.

The sensation of being inside you is almost too much for Joel. He can feel every inch of your tight, wet pussy as you move on top of him, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. "You feel so fucking good, darlin', so fuckin good,” he groans as his hands move to cup your breasts.

You lean forward letting your lips brush against his ear. "I want you to fuck me, Joel," you whisper, your voice thick with desire. "Fuck me like you've been dreaming of."

With a low growl, Joel flips you onto your back, his body covering yours as he drives into you with deep, powerful strokes. You wrap your legs around his waist, your fingers dig into his back as he pounds into you, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoes through the room.

"Yes, Joel, yes!" you cry out as your body arches off the bed. "Harder, fuck me harder!"

Joel obliges, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor, each thrust pushes you closer and closer to the edge. And then, with a final, brutal thrust, you're both coming, your bodies shudder in unison as you ride out the waves of your orgasms.

As the last spasms of pleasure wrack your bodies, Joel collapses on top of you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. You lie there for a moment, basking in the afterglow, your bodies still intimately connected. Then, with a playful grin, you nudge him with your hip. "So, cowboy, how was that ride for you?"

Joel lifts his head and his eyes meet yours. A slow smile spreads across his face. "Darlin'," he drawls, "that was the best ride of my life."

You laugh, the sound light and carefree. "I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did. We should probably get cleaned up before my dad wakes up."

Reluctantly, Joel pulls out of you and rolls onto his back. You sit up, stretching your arms above your head, and then climb out of bed. You pad over to your dresser and pull out a pair of clean panties and an outfit, then turn to face Joel.

"Coming?" you ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Joel grins and gets out of bed, his eyes roaming over your body. "Yes, ma'am," he says, saluting you with a mock-serious expression.

You both head to the bathroom, where you shower. As Joel steps under the spray of hot water, you take a moment to drink in the sight of him. The water cascades down his broad shoulders, tracing the contours of his muscular back and flowing over the firm swell of his ass. You allow your gaze to travel back up to his face, watching as the water beads on his skin, runs down the sharp angles of his jaw, and drips from the tips of his lashes.

Joel turns, his movements languid and unhurried. The water washes over his chest, highlighting the definition of his muscles and the ridges of his abdomen. A smattering of greying hair adorns his chest, trailing down his stomach to form a line that disappears beneath the water. His cock, still semi-hard from your earlier escapades, rests against his thigh.

For a moment, you're lost in the sheer masculine beauty of him. He's not a young man, but there's a timeless quality to his physique, a sense of strength and resilience that transcends age. You can't help the surge of attraction to him like a primal pull.

Joel catches you staring and a slow, knowing smile spreads across his face. "See somethin you like, darlin'?" he drawls, his voice thick with amusement.

You feel a flush of heat creep into your cheeks, but you refuse to look away. "Maybe I do," you retort, your gaze locked with his. "Do you have a problem with that, cowboy?"

Joel chuckles. "No problem at all, feel free to look your fill."

You step forward and reach out to trace the line of hair that bisects his chest. His skin is warm and slick beneath your fingers, the muscle beneath firm and unyielding.

Joel's smile fades, replaced by a look of intense concentration as he watches you explore his body. Encouraged by his reaction, you drop to your knees in front of him, your hands sliding over the wet skin of his hips. Joel's breath hitches as you lean forward and press a kiss to his stomach, just above the line of hair that leads to his rapidly hardening cock.

You look up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of innocence and lust. "I want to taste you, Joel," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of the running water. "I want to feel you in my mouth."

Joel groans, his hands tangling in your wet hair as he guides you closer. His cock is fully erect now, the head flushed with arousal and beaded with moisture. You part your lips and take him into your mouth, the taste of him mingling with the clean, fresh scent of the soap.

Joel's hips jerk in response to the sensation, his fingers tightening in your hair. "Fuck, such a good girl for this ol’cowboy.”

You hum in acknowledgment, the vibration sending a shudder through his body. You can feel his control slipping, his movements becoming more erratic as you work him. With each stroke of your tongue, each suckling kiss, you're pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

"I'm gonna come, darlin'," Joel warns, his voice strained. "If you don't want to swallow, you better pull back now."

You respond by taking him deeper, your hands gripping his ass as you suck him with renewed vigor. Joel's control snaps, his body tensing as he erupts in your mouth. You swallow reflexively, the salty-sweet taste of his release filling your senses.

As the last spasms of his orgasm subside, Joel pulls you to your feet and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

As the water from the shower begins to cool, Joel reaches out and turns off the faucet, the sudden silence punctuated only by the sound of your shared breathing. He steps out of the shower first, taking a moment to grab a fluffy towel from the rack and wrapping it around his waist. Then, with a gentlemanly gesture he offers you his hand to help you step out onto the mat.

You accept his help with a grateful smile, your fingers curling around his as he assists you. He takes another towel and begins to gently dry your body, his movements tender and unhurried. The care he takes with you, the way he looks at you with a mixture of awe and desire, makes you feel cherished and beautiful.

Once you're both dry, you lead him back to your bedroom, the cool sheets a welcome relief against your warm skin. You crawl onto the bed, your body still humming with the aftereffects of your shared pleasure, and Joel follows suit, lying down beside you. For a moment, neither of you speaks. There's a sense of contentment that fills the room.

Joel reaches out and takes your hand in his, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your palm. "That was... something else, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You turn to face him, your eyes locking onto his. "It was," you agree, a soft smile playing on your lips. "I'm glad you took a chance on me, cowboy."

He chuckles, the sound rich and warm. "I think it's safe to say that I'm the one who got lucky."

You giggle, the sound light and carefree. It feels good to let go of the tension, to bask in the afterglow without overthinking the situation.

As the morning wears on, you both dress, the reality of the day ahead slowly beginning to intrude on your private world. You know that eventually, you'll have to face your dad, to pretend that nothing has changed, but for now, you're content to linger in bed with Joel, the world outside temporarily forgotten.

When you finally emerge from your room, you find your dad in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. He looks up as you enter, a smile spreading across his face when he sees the two of you together.

"Well, good morning, sleepyheads," he greets. "I hope you two weren't up too late."

You feel a flush of heat creep into your cheeks, but you manage to keep your expression neutral. "Not too late, Dad," you reply, your voice steady.

Joel, for his part, seems completely at ease, his years of friendship with your dad serving him well in this moment. He claps your father on the back and grins. "You know how it is. Once you get to talking, the time just flies by."

Your dad nods, seemingly satisfied with the explanation. He stands up from the table and stretches, his joints popping in the quiet of the kitchen. "Well, I'm glad you two had a good time. How about some breakfast?

Throughout the meal, you're acutely aware of his presence, the knowledge of what lies beneath his clothes, the feel of his skin against yours, the taste of him on your lips. It's a heady secret, one that you carry with you as you navigate the normalcy of the morning.

Eventually, the meal comes to an end, and Joel stands up, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I should probably be heading home," he says, his gaze meeting yours. "I've got a few things I need to take care of today."

Your dad nods, pushing back his chair and standing up as well. "I understand. Thanks for coming over. We'll have to do it again soon."

You walk Joel to the door, your heart pounding in your chest. This is the first time you've been alone all morning since the shower. He turns to face you, his hand reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I had a great time, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "Thank you for... well, for everything."

You smile up at him, your eyes shining with emotion. "I had a great time too, Joel. Take care, okay?"

He nods, his hand dropping back to his side. "You too, pretty girl."

With a final, lingering look, Joel turns and walks away, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet of the morning. You close the door behind him and lean back against it, your mind racing with the events of the past 24 hours.

As you make your way back to the kitchen, your dad looks up from the dishes he's washing and gives you a smile. "He's a good man, that Joel," he says, his voice filled with a warmth and affection that only comes from years of friendship. "I'm glad you two get along so well."

You nod, a sense of peace settling over you. "Yeah, Dad. He’s really good.”

And as you help your dad finish the dishes, the memory of Joel's touch, the sound of his voice, the taste of his kiss, all of it lingers in the back of your mind, a sweet reminder you can only hope happens again and again.

Special taglist for @milla-frenchy 😘

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x f!reader #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

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stvrnzcherries · 30 days

Text

WHEELS ON THE BUS

m. sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: You and Matt have always been best friends, you never felt something else but an incident while you both were in a road trip together might change that.

warnings: soft dom!matt, smut, pet names, use of y/n, foreplay, p in v, degrading kink, sort of breeding kink, edging, bulging, swearing, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (don't).

a/n: After MONTHS of being a lazy ass and also after a TIGHTT week of anxiety, I’m back and better than ever 🤍 expect more coming soon, I appreciate y’all.

Based on this request!

not proofread!

౨ৎ

The cold breeze tingled Matt’s skin, sending shivers down his spine as he kept piling up everyone’s bags inside the car truck, the blue hour of the sky created this dark yet comforting panoramic view of it.

A voice in the distance caught his attention “Wait up!” You taunt, running down to your best friend as a heavy bag carried behind you. You agreed a few days ago to go on this trip with Matt and his family since he was practically begging you to spend an entire week with him; even though he knew you hated the beach, you hated feeling sticky or feeling a singular drop of sweat on your skin, being in heated places was a thing that always drove you to the edge and you would get in a bad mood the whole day because of it.

It was just too excruciating, but you accepted just because your best friend didn't want to spend an entire week without you yet he liked seeing you suffer since he had always known your hatred towards the beach.

“Here ya go,” You said as you lifted the bag with all the strength you had and handed it to Matt, he just looked at you, a cocky smile forming on his lips as he placed your bag on the last spot in the trunk. “You excited?” Matt asked, closing the trunk before his eyes returned to bore into yours waiting for an answer, “If you mean I'm excited about torturing myself an entire week on the beach, then yeah.” You replied sarcastically gaining a chuckle from him, “It’ll be fun, I promise.” He said, patting your head gently.

“I highly doubt that being in the hottest weather ever is fun, Matthew.” You said, sticking your tongue out, he just chuckled and messed your hair a bit, his hand gently moving to cup your cheek as he pinched it delicately, “Thank you for coming either way.” He smiled gently and you returned it.

The eye contact lasted for a few seconds before the lousy voice of Chris caught each other’s attention, you both turned around to see him walking towards you “Time to hit the road!” He says with a big smile as he places his arm around you, he looks at Matt and then at me, “Are you guys ready?” He asked to which you replied with, “Heck yeah! Let’s hit the road!” A bright smile smeared your face as you, Matt, and Chris made your way to the backseats.

When Chris stopped taking hold of you to go to the other side of the car you were left with Matt inside the car and his face giving slight concern. “What’s wrong?” You ask furrowing your brows slightly.

That is when you realize what it was, the backseat had no space left for you, and neither Matt nor you knew what to do, “Fuck.” He muttered to himself looking back to where his brothers were situated and back to you with an awkward face.

Matt thinks for a second before parting his lips to let out the sentence, “You could sit on my lap.” His palm softly patted his lap as he looked at you with a sly smile.

Your lips pursed into a thin line, the awkwardness getting the best of you as you got into the car and carefully down your weight on your best friend’s lap. To which he just placed his hands around your waist and gently sat you down on his lap. “Relax, you’re not heavy at all.” He whispers in your ear as the car door closes.

You looked back at him and smiled shyly, trying to hide the fact that he was caressing the sides of your hips with his thumbs.

The first two hours of the road were completely normal, you and the triplets had a karaoke session for half an hour, and the rest was to talk about what you guys wanted to do as soon as you arrived and enjoy some snacks. But now you guys were only an hour away from the beach house that the triplet's parents rented.

Nick and Chris had fallen asleep for a few minutes and you could also feel your eyes heaving from the energy you wasted the first two hours throughout the way, also the fact that you didn’t sleep that well last night. Matt on the other hand was with his headphones on the minute Chris and Nick closed their eyes.

You patted Matt’s lap to get his attention, you looked back at him as soon as you did that he took his headphones off “You okay? Need something?” He asked with slight concern.

“No, I’m fine, I was just wondering if I could get comfortable so I can sleep while we get there.” You said with a little smile plastered on your face as he nodded.

Matt spread his legs slightly so you could have more space to get as comfortable as possible, you rocked your hips a little to the sides so your lower back could be resting on Matt’s chest level or closer to it, and you rested your head on his shoulder as he put his headphones back on.

Your eyes closed so easily, and your mind drifted to your dreams so swiftly that you couldn’t even imagine.

Thirty minutes left inside the car, you were still in the embrace of Matt’s arms, your position shifting once in a while.

And how clueless of Matt for not thinking how touch-deprived he is, every time you switched your position while your slept you would move your hips or straddle his lap, making his dick twitch against his pants.

His breathing getting heavier, and his body was shaking trying to contain the pure excitement that just the smallest friction could do to him. He felt so guilty for his body reacting and finding pleasure in something meaningless; something completely common and normal.

He closed his eyes, trying to contain these feelings towards you, towards your body to stop the erection that he sooner or later would have to fix all by himself.

And also wish he could arrive as fast as he could to the fucking beach house.

After what seemed like a good twenty minutes of sleep, you finally opened your eyes carefully, trying not to get blinded by the rays of sun that were passing through the window, the change of scenery makes your stomach flutter with joy as you see the ocean peek through the reliefs of the street.

You turned your head to peek at your best friend who seemed to be sleeping, his dark circles showing off a little bit more with this new change of lighting that the car has. You smiled to yourself as you saw your best friend opening his eyes quickly when he felt your gaze on him. “Did you get to sleep for a bit?” You asked, your throat was dry and raspy, nonetheless, a good cup of water could fix it as soon as you guys arrived at the beach house you were staying in.

Matt nodded, his eyes looking away from yours as he changed his position a little, making your weight lift a little, a small poking sensation in your inner thigh as he did this action. Something felt off in your surface.

You looked down, scanning Matt’s lap to check if he had something in his pockets that could make this sudden change in position make you slightly uncomfortable.

Your eyes widened as you took a glance of what was the strange object poking your inner thigh, it wasn’t just an object it was more of a certain body part. You looked away in shame, forcing yourself to stare at the blankly looking headrest in front of you, your stomach feeling fluttered as you tried to stop thinking about what you just witnessed.

The beach house was beautiful outside, it was a two-story victorian summer house, with a small front porch with two wooden chairs and a tiny round wooden coffee table, the breeze hugging your skin nicely, everything seemed to be perfect, the weather in Long Island was just the perfect balance of not too warm and not too cold, it definitely felt like the summer vibes were there.

As you entered the house, your eyes were amazed by the interior, the walls were covered in this beautiful blueish floral wallpaper, the couches looked like they some sort of English sofas, and a small chimney facing a large path to the back porch of the house, the stairs that lead to the way to the different rooms where you would be staying in for the next week.

Matt steps beside you, glancing around the place, “Wanna share a room?” He asked nonchalantly as he looked at you, taking in all of your factions, you looked back at him “I thought you and Chris agreed on sharing the same room, though?” You retorted.

Matt brushed the strands of hair blocking his view, “Yeah, I thought so too until he decided that he now wants to share a room with Nick.” He sighed, “I think I’m going to go upstairs and shower and then take a nap, I feel like I haven’t slept in years.”

You nodded “Alright, I’ll catch you later.” You replied, giving a sly smile to him as he walked upstairs and disappeared out of your sight. Things have gotten awkward since you discovered the hard-rock erection he had back in the entirety of the ride. You didn’t say a word but interacting with him or even just looking at Matt made you nervous somehow.

Your mind kept racing with the thought of seeing his body react that way to you, does this mean he feels turned on by you? Should you do something about it?

A few minutes had passed and you explored the rest of the house already, you carried your bag in your left hand as you went upstairs, a room door slightly opened and a dim light reflected on the inside of it. You pushed the door gently, and the first thing you heard was the shower running down, Matt’s bag half-opened in the bed, you tossed yours to the other side, sitting down beside it, your head had a pounding headache that you couldn’t make it stop.

Scanning the room, you see the bathroom door halfway opened, the fog from the steaming water escaping through it, you could see Matt, his silhouette revealing the way his forehead was resting on the tiled wall of the shower, the water running down his back and cascading through his hair, his hands rubbing his face exhaustingly as he sighed in pure relief.

The way his muscles flexed each time he brushed his hair back was enough to make you soaking wet in your panties. You stood up, your steps closer and carefully just to get a better view of his silhouette.

You were there, your hand opening the door more, the squeaking sound blowing your cover because Matt looked right at you in the eye, the eye contact holding on for what seemed like an eternity. You shut the door and ran down to sit back on the bed.

Would it be worth it to risk it all?

Dawn arrives, you've been playing with Nick and Chris UNO matches for what seems like an hour now on the back porch of the residence, every match Nick either complained or Chris would make a mess and you guys would have to play all over again, that was until Nick threw a tantrum over him and they both went to their separate ways inside the house.

You were lying now on the couch of the living room, bored filling your senses, your phone not even making an effort to entertain you at all. You heard steps coming from the staircase, as you looked up you saw Matt, his hair was still a little wet and he looked like a brand new person in comparison to how he looked a couple of hours ago. “Hey, I’m going to drive around town, I was wondering if you would like to come with me?”

You stood up from the couch, “Sure! I was getting bored, so.” You both walked towards the front door, Matt opening it for you.

The town was almost like a sort of ghost town, with a few people walking down the sidewalk, and making their way to Amangasett beach. The lamp posts illuminated around with a tenuous yellowish light, the night sky revealing a pale moonlight. “Wanna go for a swim?” Matt’s voice takes you out of your trance.

“Yeah, I don't see why not.” You replied with a small smile as you moved to his seat and gave him a side hug, to which he just chuckled and kept his eyes on the road.

Matt parked the car in an almost empty zone at the beach, the place seemed clear of big crowds, just a few couples sitting by the edge of the ocean but no one else. As you got out of the car you took off your shirt and shorts quickly, running down to the ocean as Matt followed your pace, the both of you giggling.

Your body trembled when your toes grazed lightly on the water, the adrenaline and tingling sensation making your heart flutter anxiously, you kept sinking your body until half of your abdomen was fully covered by the ocean, you looked at the moon taking in the sight of it until you felt cold fingertips touch your lower back. “I’m glad you came with us,” Matt said, his voice sounding so distant yet it had a hint of something else you couldn't fully recognize.

He spins you around by grabbing your waist, your eyes meeting his as he pulls you closer, your breaths mixing with each other’s as he takes the sight of your face, his hands still positioned on your lower back. His eyes shone brighter than ever before. “I mean, that’s what friends are for, right?” You looked for a split second at Matt’s lips, his tongue sticking out to lick the inner corners of his lips before parting them.

“Yeah, friends…” He breathed out, his words laced with that unknown feeling you can’t recognize, his eyes giving a glint of lust as he looked at your lips.

Your mind drifts to the moment you both are in the car, his hard rock erection making you question whether it’s worth it to risk the friendship or pretend like it was a little accident, even though it wasn't little at all.

Or the shower incident, nothing of what happened today was by accident, there was not even a chance that it was.

Your attention gets drawn by his breath getting closer to your ear, his voice carefully whispering his words “What you thinking ‘bout?”

You licked your lips, your voice trembling and your words slipping out of your mouth sloppily “Nothing…w-why?” your lips pressing together as his breath reached down your jawline, his lips grazing the fine line of it teasingly, a low dark chuckle getting out of his mouth when he saw you shiver by the smallest contact.

“Remembering what you saw in the bathroom, hm?” His lips pressed tentatively, traveling from your jawline to your neck, you titled your head to the side to grant him more access, his hand sneaking down to grab your throat delicately as he kept abusing your sweet spots. His other hand caresses your waist.

“I don’t have a clue of what you’re talking about…” You breathed out, breathless whimpers coming out of your mouth as Matt kept doing his attack all over your throat, leaving hickeys and wet kisses all over. He hums, Matt’s vibrant voice coursing through your body “Really? How funny, considering you even tried to be sneaky about it.” He says as he returns to kissing your jawline, then your chin, and then he gets to your lips, tempting you to make the move, his teeth biting your lower lip gently.

“Don’t act so innocent now, you were sneaky about your little accident back in the car too.” Your words shut out with such confidence, you looked at him, your eyes piercing his as you took in his reaction of pure shock; his lips parted and that was the chance you decided to get to kiss him. The both of you synchronized perfectly as if your lips were meant to be for his.

Your hands went directly to his chest, your fingertips doing small circles around his collarbone as he pulled you closer by your waist. Your noses were touching at this point and the kiss got more intense, the both of you roaming your hands all over each other’s bodies.

You were now lying down on the backseat of the car, your hand gripping Matt’s hand as he sucked your right nipple, his other hand playing with the left one, your back arched off the seat and your legs were wide open, fully unclothed now in the secluded space that he decided to take you to. Your eyes closed as you let the overwhelming pleasure take control of your body, his tongue swirling around your nipple, your breathless whimpers making Matt get harder beneath you with each passing second.

His kisses trailed to your belly, kissing it intently “I’m going to stuff this beautiful body of yours with my babies” A dark glint on his eyes as he ascended back to your face to kiss you. His hand traveled down to where your folds were, his fingertips adding pressure as he moved them in circles, causing you to gasp at the sudden wave of pleasure you were experiencing. Your hands flew to Matt’s biceps, your nails burying deep inside his skin as he kept getting you all worked up.

His lips rushed to kiss yours, this time more desperate and sloppier than ever as he kept adding more pressure on your sensitive nub, your moans getting louder as the knot in your stomach gets stronger. “m’ god” You babbled between kisses, your eyes closed as you take in all of the ecstasy.

“So close…” You breathed out, the knot snapping any second.

Then suddenly, the feeling stopped, completely gone.

You opened your eyes, Matt’s looking at you with a devious expression as he untied the lace from his shorts, the bulge of his dick very visible even though you are in an almost dark place. “What?” He asked, his head tilting to the side, a low chuckle as he spoke, “Wanted to finish?” You nodded, the desperation clear.

“Why would I let you finish if we haven’t even started? Hm?” He crawled back to be face to face with you, you felt his tip grazing your folds unintentionally, “Spread those legs wider for me, m’kay?” He said in a low voice, almost a whisper.

The desperation and adrenaline fuels your body, your legs spread wider enough to give him space between you, he positioned his tip in your entrance, edging you out even more until you had to practically beg to him. “Matt, please—“ you huff out at the undying desperation that your body was craving.

“Aw, look who’s getting frustrated now…” He coos, his left hand pumping his dick slightly before he slammed into you without warning, his movements frantic and hard, your head hitting the door slightly each time he pounded back inside you.

Your hands flew back to his biceps, gripping onto them for dear life as erratic moans emitted out of your mouth, his pace was nowhere close to being steady, it was sloppier as if he was already on the verge of getting on his own high too.

The tip of his cock was hitting that sweet spot of yours perfectly, making you salivate due to the incredible amount of intoxicating pleasure you were given in twenty minutes. Your mind felt fuzzy, this kind of pleasure was something that you’d stopped experiencing a long ago, your eyes crossing and shutting as you felt that sweet sensation of being closer, Matt abusing that spot deep inside you over and over again.

You couldn't even remember the last time sex felt this good, and never in a million years, you would’ve thought that your best friend would be the one to achieve that with you. Your thoughts stopped as soon as you felt his thumb on your tongue, indicating for you to suck it which you didn’t hesitate to be asked twice.

Your tongue swirled all over his thumb like a lollipop, getting it all wet as you felt the grunts and whines from Matt, the grip his other hand had on your hip getting tighter within two minutes. His pace not slowing down but getting ten times faster than it already was, the car shaking and your hands gripping the door to hold onto dear life.

Pornographic moans emitted out of your mouth as you felt that tight knot forming once again and getting closer and closer to snapping ferociously, your hand gripping tightly onto the seat as your eyes closed.

Matt’s placed his hand to grasp your chin, forcing you to look at him. “All that teasing to get dumb fucked by me?” He said, his voice losing power from time to time.

snap.

Your juices spurt all over the seat and coated Matt’s dick in a thin, sheer coat of hot cum. Moans emitted out of your mouth as your grip on the headrests of the car loosened up due to the lack of strength that your body was capable of holding up. Your legs are all wobbly and your muscles are sore from all the containment that they did.

At this point your mind was fuzzy, too dumb fucked to acknowledge that the well-known knot snapped already, your body too weak to keep upholding Matt’s pace as he kept pumping in and out constantly.

Not too long after, Matt came to his release too. Your juices and his combined deep inside you, he pulled out of you as he admired the conjoined trail of juices coating his shaft. His left hand immediately went deep inside you, making sure his hot seed was ‘secured’. He pulled his fingers out, a popping sound as he did so, and cleaned them off easily, admiring the rest of your body, a gleam on his eyes reflecting the lustful expression of being satisfied enough.

He pulled you close to his body, sitting you straight up as you both recovered, Matt trailing kisses all over your face and repeatedly saying “M’ love you” as he caressed your hair with ease.

Both of your chests were going up and down irregularly, trying to stabilize each other’s breathing back to normality.

Matt’s eyes shifted around the car, taking a look at the foggy windows, a sly smile smearing all over his face as he traced with one of his fingers the foggy window in front of both of you, tracing the words.

‘We just fucked :)’

You finished reading what he traced on the window and chuckled weakly as Matt looked proudly at his ‘work of art’.

౨ৎ

a/n: tysm for 600 followers, wtf I can’t believe we’re already 600 (Nick fic coming real soon as a 600 followers special). It’s funny how I can easily write shit about Chris or Nick but when it comes to Matt, this mf is the hardest person to ever write off 😭 love y’all

tag list: @sturniolossss @tillies33ssss @chrisloyalgf @alorsxsturn @sturnioloslurps @cindylcuwho @3mm4yung @chrissfavwh3re @blahbel668 @lov3bug @starsturns234 @junnniiieee07 @mstarniolo @sara2233445 @teenagetrash00 @mattsturnioloisbae @mbbsgf @thecynthh @braindead4l @freshsturns @lexisecretaccx @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi

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targaryen-dynasty · 3 months

Text

A SUCCESSFUL HUNT.

Cregan Stark x female!Targaryen!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MDNI; fingering, p in v, rough sex, praise kink, size kink, possessiveness

WORDS: 4K

NOTES: What can I say? I just love this man. Thank you @sylasthegrim This can be read as part 3 of Set Me Alight Again!

✖️ 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

The crackling of the fireplace is calming and comforting in your otherwise quiet marital chambers, its bright flames casting shadows to dance across the room. A chaise that has been specifically requested by you not long after your wedding to Cregan stands in front of it, and it was hard work for you to pull it from its place beneath the window to where it stands right now.

You’re nursing a goblet of wine, enjoying the peace and quiet while your husband is out on a hunt with his men. Nothing more than a relatively thin, white nightgown covers your curves with no smallclothes beneath, thanks to the warmth brought by the natural hot springs and the fire lit in front of you.

Cregan’s absence drags on with the hours passing, and you slowly but surely find yourself growing restless and a little lonely. He is a fine swordsman, you know that, but whenever his ventures take longer than anticipated, you can’t help but start to worry for his well being.

When the door suddenly swings open with your husband striding into the room, you jolt out of your reverie, making you look up at your husband, a soft smile playing on your lips. “You’re back,” you observe, taking in his disheveled appearance with his hair windswept and his clothes slightly rumpled from the hours spent in the cold forest.

Your husband grins at your words, the expression a little crooked and more than a little wolfish. “Oh, did you miss me, my love?” he teases, his voice rough with the exertion of the hunt.

At his teasing, your smile widens, eyes roaming over his disheveled appearance. He usually isn’t one to walk around with a neatly trimmed beard and well-combed hair, you have learned as much already, but this look of him coming straight from the forest, hair and clothes appearing as though he’s a savage, a true wildling, certainly sends a wave of something distinctly primal through your veins.

Rising from your chair, you place the goblet aside. “I might have missed the warmth of your body beside me, husband,” you reply, a hint of playful coyness in your voice as you outstretch your hand to beckon him closer.

Cregan lets out a small huff of laughter as he steps closer, taking your hand in his. His gray eyes trail over your figure, taking in every contour of it beneath your nightgown. “Is that so?” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with desire. “And I here thought you needed some peace and quiet without me keeping you up all night…”

“Oh, I do require peace and quiet,” you agree, bringing your hand up slowly to run your fingers along the lapel of his furs. “But I did not say I wanted you away from me, did I?”

“You’re a vixen, aren’t you, my love?” he murmurs, his voice a raw, gravely rumble. “Were you waiting for me, all alone, wearing that?” He pinches the thin fabric of your nightgown between his fingers, tugging gently on it.

Your hands wander idly over the solid planes of his chest, and you look up at him through your lashes, your expression coy and playful. “Maybe I was,” you purr, voice soft and teasing. “Perhaps I was hoping for my lord husband to return home and ravish me after a successful hunt.” Your words are bold, but Cregan is nothing but a man that enjoys a certain straightforwardness.

A deep rumble vibrates in his throat at your words, and he leans in to nuzzle against the sensitive skin of your neck. “My dear wife,” he rasps, pressing a kiss to your neck that makes you crane it to grant him even more access. “You know exactly how to drive me mad, don’t you?”

“Is it a crime to want my husband’s touch after being alone all day?” you whisper, your voice breathless with desire. “Surely you must be starving, my wolf, and I just happen to have something for you to feast on.” A soft moan escapes your lips as his teeth dig into your skin, arching against his sturdy frame.

His restraint is starting to fray at your soft moans and the feeling of your body pressed against his. “You have no shame, my love,” he growls, “but I am starving, indeed. And I plan on feasting until I’ve had my fill.”

His mouth finds yours, and there’s no gentleness in this kiss, only passion and desperate need, all teeth and tongue. As you pull away, your lips are swollen, and heavy breaths slip past them. “Then you best hurry,” you whisper, fingers tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck once before you slowly sink down with your eyes never leaving his, making yourself comfortable on the chaise again. “I would not want my handsome wolf to starve to death.” There’s a hint of sultriness in your voice, and if he doesn’t get the silent invitation for him to feast on you, he certainly does the moment you spread your legs for him, the flimsy hem of your nightgown riding up your thighs.

It’s more than obvious, and Cregan does not hesitate to rid himself of his thick furs and place Ice, the ancestral greatsword of House Stark, aside.

A gasp escapes your lips as you watch him sink down to his knees in front of you with half lidded eyes, his large hands trailing over your thighs with a possessive grip. Your heart hammers in your chest, and your skin heats with desire.

His breath comes out ragged as he pushes the hem of your nightdress higher, baring even more of your skin to his hungry gaze. But you don’t feel ashamed, and certainly not vulnerable – not in the presence of your husband, your protector, your love. “Let me taste you, wife,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

Grabbing one of your thighs, his lips find the thin skin on the inside, pressing a kiss to it, before he proceeds to drape it over his shoulder. But when he repeats the motion, letting his lips linger on the inside of your other side a little longer, that’s the moment you all but want to squeeze your thighs together, soothing the aching that settles at their apex. The moan you release at the sight is pathetic, resembling more of a whimper than any sound of pleasure, and it makes your husband chuckle.

Both his hands cup your arse to bring your hips closer towards him, your breath catching in your throat the moment his hot breath fans over your soaked folds. “Gods, husband…” you whisper, voice barely more than a breath. You tangle your hand into his dark curls, urging him closer. “Please… I can not take much more of this teasing, I– oh!” The words cut off the moment your husband’s lips make contact with your cunt, his tongue trailing a hot, wet path up towards your sensitive pearl.

With one hand in his hair, the other tightly fists the skirts of your nightdress. The stubble of his beard scratches against your inner thighs as they squeeze around his face, igniting wave after wave of desire to course through your veins.

His name tumbles softly from your lips, a plea and prayer all at once, growing more and more desperate with his tongue lapping hungrily at your cunt. He moves his hand, one broad palm spreading your thighs open wider, granting him better access, his mouth never relenting as he devours you.

“By the Seven,” you whimper, tugging harshly at his hair. “I need you, husband… now.”

He chuckles against your folds, the sound low and wicked. Tilting his head, the coarse hairs on his chin graze your pearl, making you jolt. “I shall never get used to hearing a princess of the realm beg and plead,” he remarks, and for the first time you spot something akin to smugness on his features. “But I’m not sure I’ve had enough just yet, my love. I want to hear you scream my name before I give you what you really want.”

Your chest heaves with ragged breath as his lips tease your swollen cunt once more, a shiver running down your spine. “Gods… I need more, just give me–” The tip of his nose spreads open your folds, not only granting his tongue better access to your entrance, but also allowing him to ease two of his thick digits into you. Your body arches towards him, and your thighs enclose around his head again.

His nose rubs against your sensitive pearl, and with his fingers and tongue working in tandem, he has you right where he wants you in a matter of seconds – on the edge of your peak with your body taut like a bowstring and his name tumbling from your lips like a prayer.

Voice ragged with desire, you have a hard time forming coherent sentences. “I… please… I can’t take much… much more of this torment.”

Your grip on his hair tightens, desperate to keep his lips on your hot flesh, yet he still manages to tilt his head, interrupting his ministrations and forcing the wave of pleasure to subside at once. His digits still are buried inside of you, but not even squirming or shifting of your hips gets him to resume his movements.

“Patience,” he rasps, his lips curved into a wolfish grin you want to smack right off his face. “Good things come to those who wait.”

You release a frustrated moan at the loss of stimulation, your body desperately craving him. “You’re cruel,” you pout, writhing against the chaise. “And it truly is maddening.” Your complaints, however, are half-hearted, because at the same time, you love the way he winds you up like this; the delicious torment only heightens your arousal.

“And you love every second of it, don’t you?” he teases, leaning in to ghost his lips over the inside of your thigh, a hint of teeth grazing against it. It makes you impatiently shift your hips toward him, silently begging for more. He chuckles. “You have not suddenly become a quitter, wife, hm? I know you can take a little more.”

“I swear, if you make me wait any longer I’ll–” you break off as his tongue drags through your folds again, lapping at them like a man starved. With your eyes squeezed shut and the skirts of your nightdress tightly clutched in one hand, you allow yourself to revel in the pleasure again. “Gods… I need you, husband,” you whimper, tilting your head back. “Inside me… please.”

Cregan can barely hold back the groan that rumbles in his throat at your whiny voice, vibrating through your core as he groans against your cunt. But it seems your desperate pleas bear fruit with him rising to his feet, a pleased rumble in his chest. “There you are, begging so nicely for me,” he drawls as he leans forwards, both his hands resting on the back rest of the chaise, caging you in. “I do so love it when you use your manners, princess. You think you deserve a reward?”

Your eyes glint as you look up at him, coy smile on your lips. “I have been a good wife,” you retort. “I’ve waited all day for you to return, I was ready the moment you walked in. Is that not deserving of a reward? I ache for you, husband.” Your fingers trace idle patterns over his lips, touch light but insistent.

A growl rumbles in his chest. “These pretty eyes and that sweet cunt of yours are going to be the death of me.”

He captures your hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it, before his other hand grabs your hips and adjusts you so you lie back on the chaise.

“You have the manners of a wolf, husband,” you remarked with a grin at his way of talking.

You’re ready to welcome him between your parted legs, but Cregan, however, deems it most fitting to shed off any piece of clothing left on his body, baring himself wholly to you. It’s the sight of his hard cock, straining and standing to full attention that has you licking your lips, and you find it difficult to meet his gaze again.

Chuckling lowly, he grabs your leg close to him and lifts it to make it easier to get between them, draping it over his shoulder like he’s done plenty of times before. The action makes you gasp, and you can feel your teeth dig into your bottom lip.

“But whose fault is that, hm?” you tease, raking your nails across his bare chest, scratching the dark, coarse hairs that spread all over it. “I recall you being the one who was rather insistent upon taking me as your wife,” you continue. “So, you best die a happy man.”

Both your hands are captured by his large paw, pinned to your belly. “You’re a cheeky wench, and too quick with your tongue,” he murmurs, leaning down to nip at your earlobe. It immediately coaxes you to arch against him, full breasts pressing against his chest. “I best find a way to keep it occupied…”

Your laugh is swallowed with a rough kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you with an almost primal possessiveness. It’s passionate enough to suck the air from your lungs, making you completely unaware of his hand sliding down your curves to line his cock up with your entrance.

It’s the swift push inside that makes you gasp against his lips, his body covering yours completely, pinning you down in a wall of heat and muscles. His lips tear away from yours, only to immediately trail a path of hot kisses from your jawline down to the curve where your neck meets your shoulder. His hand grips your hip, hard enough to surely leave a bruise as he fully sheathes himself inside of you.

“This…” he mutters against your skin, voice strained and laced with desire. “You… mine. All of you is all mine.”

Feeling him fill you completely, your eyes fall shut, a whimper escaping your lips. You should be used to his size by now, yet you’re not certain if you could ever; not when each time he enters you – regardless of how often you’ve bedded each other already – it’s still accompanied by a slight stinging that washes away with the first rut of his hips.

“Yours,” you moan, your fingers finding purchase in his hair. “All ours… only yours.” There once was a time you whispered the same things to your uncle Aemond, entangled in the silky sheets of his bed, but they never bore a meaning similar to the one they have now – the ghost of an arranged marriage ordered to make up for the errors of your younger brother always lingering within them.

You writhe beneath him, trying to take him even deeper than what’s possible. There are no words needed to encourage him to move, but when he starts to grind his hips against yours, you aren’t quite sure if you’ve anticipated him to take things slower. His pace is merciless, toe-curling intense, and while your grip on his hair tightens, his shoulder is soon to be littered by crescent shaped marks of your nails digging into it as you clutch at it.

There’s barely one coherent thought forming in your head, mind consumed by the overwhelming sensations he’s stirring inside of you. All that leaves your lips as you clench so tightly around his cock are soft, broken gasps and moans, each of them desperate as the last, his name falling past your lips like a prayer.

Your body’s reaction is what drives him to go faster. And while the stinging of your nails makes him hiss, it also urges him to mark you himself, digging his teeth into your flesh – burgeoning bruises forming that are certainly meant to be discovered by your maids.

“That’s right,” he growls with a ragged voice. “You’re mine, and I’m never letting you go.”

You unravel beneath him, arching your back and tipping your head back against the chaise, the sight not making it easier for him to stay composed enough to not peak on spot.

And that’s when he moves to press his chest flush against yours, holding your cheek with one hand, whilst the other grabs the side of the chaise, his biceps bulging from how tightly he holds onto it. His lips find the side of your face, kissing along your jaw, earlobe and temple. You have your head tilted to the side, granting him even more access as the weight of his body stops you from squirming beneath him, just allowing you to roll your hips against his.

“Oh, by the seven…” you whimper, turning your look at him. “Don’t stop… please, don’t stop…”

His frenzied, almost animalistic pace falters slightly at your words, clearly driving him wild. But he has a goal in mind, and won’t stop until you’re a mindless, trembling mess for him.

“Gods, you drive me wild with your…” he trails off, drunk on your cunt. “Such a wicked wife. I… I intend to make sure you will not be able to walk straight on the morrow.”

You cross your arms behind his neck, one hand tugging on the short, dark curls at the nape of his neck. Every time you try to arch against him, your hard nipples press against his sturdy chest, teasing his skin, and each time that happens, you’re certain you can feel him throbbing inside of you.

The dark, coarse hairs splayed around the base of his cock and over his pubic bone drag over your sensitive pearl with the reckless snaps of his hips, sending a shiver up your spine each time. His thrusts are harsh and determined, reaching deep and expertly brushing your sweet spot as he fucks sweet, little mewls and moans out of your throat, filling your chambers.

His relentless pace brings you towards your peak quicker than anticipated, and your husband can tell by the needy look in your eyes and the way you all but cling to him. His swollen lips find yours, a heated, sloppy kiss exchanged that swallows down every whimper and moan that threatens to make you pull aways from him.

“Let me feel you falling apart for me, wife,” he grunts. “Peak for me.”

Your husband all but shows that he knows your body better than you know yourself, his words and the desperate plea behind them sending you careening over the edge. Your body tightens around him, choking him with the pleasure building to an almost unbearable level. Your lips part with a gasp. You convulse all over him, your hips grinding against his as the hot pleasure courses through your veins. But this time his thrusts don’t stutter, keeping the passionate intensity to the point you’re losing your mind.

“That’s it,” he husks. His hot breath fans across your heated features as he leans in to rest his forehead against the side of your face. “What a pretty face you make when you’re drenching my cock.” You’re not sure whether it’s his pubic bone still dragging over your pearl, his cock still sliding in and out of you, or if his praise alone is enough to prolong your peak, but you feel yourself keening at his words.

It takes him a couple more thrusts that slowly bring you to the point of uncomfortable overstimulation, until his own peak washes over him. His cock is twitching and throbbing as your walls squeeze him for every drop of his seed, spilling his release deep inside of your quivering walls.

For a moment, everything goes blissfully blank for the both of you, your minds blissfully empty of everything but each other. The sounds of your heavy breaths fill your chambers as he collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

Releasing a soft sigh, your hand slowly starts to massage his scalp, dragging through his dampened curls. “Was the hunt successful, husband?” you inquire softly, despite your still slightly ragged breath.

He hums contentedly against your neck, lips grazing the sensitive skin of it. “Quite successful,” he murmurs. “But I would not say it was the highlight of the day.” With these words, he pushes himself up so he’s able to press his lips to yours for a gentle kiss. “You, on the other hand, definitely take the top spot.”

You let out a soft laugh at his words. “I assume you caught something worth bringing home, then,” you say, your voice teasing. “Unless you spent the entire day just wandering around in the woods.”

There’s a roguish glint in his eyes as he speaks. “Oh, love, you know me better than that,” he teases. “I’d never hunt without catching something worth bringing home. Suffice to say, this particular catch is something I think you will like very much.”

Arching a brow, it’s clear your curiosity is piqued. “And what makes you assume I will like this mysterious find, husband?” you ask. “For all I know, it’s a boar’s head or some deer’s antlers. Not exactly the romantic gestures that make a woman swoon.”

If Cregan has learned something about you, it’s that once you’ve set your mind on something, there’s no stopping or distracting you – not that he wants to do that anyways. Pushing himself up off the chaise, he slips into his discarded clothes, and you do the same, putting on a soft gown that covers your body with the exception of the obvious marks his mouth left on your skin.

The dark, possessive glint in his eyes at the sight makes your body heat up, a renewed wave arousal pooling between your thighs. But no, there’s something else waiting for you right now.

The fur coat he’s worn before is now draped over your shoulders as you make your way through the dark halls of Winterfell, your steps quick and purposeful. You arrive at the stables rather quickly, walking through the aisles.

“What are we doing here, Cregan?” you ask.

He chuckles. “Patience, my love.”

And as you reach a small pen at the far back of the stable, you feel as if you’re about to faint. Holding onto your husband’s arm, you stare into the pen with wide eyes, watching the small litter of puppies sleeping in a pile. Their gray and brown coats shimmer slightly in the dim light, and if it wasn’t for you not wanting to wake them up, you’d all but squeal. Having seen plenty of dragon hatchlings before, you’re certain their cuteness was defeated by the small pile in front of you.

Stepping closer to the pen to get a better look, you can’t avert your eyes from them. “You found puppies in the forest?” you breathe, voice almost a whisper. “Where’s their mother?”

Cregan comes up to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Not just any puppies, my love. They’re dire wolves. The whole pack was slaughtered by poachers, apart from these little ones. As we found the pack, we heard them whining and yapping not too far away.”

“Poor things,” you remark with a pout, leaning against the edge of the pen. “What are you going to do with them now?”

It seems as though he’s contemplating his answer for a moment, looking at the small creatures whining and wincing in their sleep. “I was thinking of keeping them for my… ourselves. They could make some good hunting companions and serve as protection for the castle… for you. Dire wolves are fiercely loyal creatures, and they’d make ideal guards for Winterfell and you,” he states, his hand running up and down your waist.

A shiver runs through you as his hand moves to rest on your belly, rubbing it softly since his seed has not yet bore any fruits. “And they’d make formidable companions for any of our children. I have heard that dragons do not enjoy the cold as much.”

Placing your hand over his, feeling the warmth of his fingers, you squeeze it softly. “They’d make splendid companions,” you remark. “And having them as protection for the castle would mean you could leave it a little calmer and reassured.”

“Exactly,” he rasps, nuzzling your hair with his nose as his lips brush against your ear. “Plus, they could keep you company. It would be nice to have a part of myself guarding you when I am away. Like the ultimate protection.”

Finally looking up at him, you have a soft smile on your lips. “I like that idea,” you say, pressing yourself against him.

And while your life in Winterfell is now seldomly graced by loneliness anymore with most of your time occupied by these small balls of fur, you have come to learn quickly that there’s been your own pup slowly growing inside of you, your husband’s seed finally bearing fruit and expanding your family.

Cregan Taglist: @nats-whore @gemini_mama

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satoruhour · 9 months

Note

Just thought of something FREAKY in class… Single father Satoru looking for a babysitter and you’re looking for a side income during semester break and the tension goes crazy!!!! “We should’t be doing this my son will wake up” I’M GONNA SCREAMMMM

BLISS, PURE BLISS

a/n: happy new year LMFAOOO. thank you for all the asks btw i promise ill answer them asap 🥹 / @shotorus @osaemu @shidouryusm @mysugu @hyomagiri ♱

wc: 6.4k

warnings: ‘onee-san’ used but more of just addressing reader as an older figure because saying babysitter is kinda weird lol (kind of like how chinese people use 姐姐 even if they are not related), fem!reader, dilf!gojo, age gap (gojo in his late 30s, reader in mid-20s), angst if u squint, bit of slow burn n tension, making out, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, praise, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, p -> v sex, multiple rounds, consensual filming, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

“no fucking way . .” you mumble mostly to yourself, standing in front of the largest house of the gated community in roppongi, and while you knew the people here were excessively and obnoxiously rich, you’re never quite prepared until you’re getting a key card specifically mailed to your name just so you could enter.

you’re not even shameful when you take a video to send to your best friends, locking your screen almost immediately because you knew you’d never get to the job on time if you replied to them. with calculated steps, you’re walking up the house that’s designed with a modern structure, yet still retaining characteristics of a traditional japanese home. it’s less prominent at the front of the house, though.

“(y/n)-san, was it?” a voice startles you out of your ogling sessions. if the garden was already this nice, what would be in store for you when you went in? you’ll be finding out soon when your employer himself opens the door to you, a man with striking white hair and equally striking blue eyes that seem to look right into you. he’s dressed in a suit, probably no doubt ready to get to work while you’re out here taking your time. you cringe, immediately walking up to the door.

“y-yes! yes, i’m sorry sir, i was just uhm—”

he holds that intimidating stare just for a moment but then he breaks into a smile that mirrors the bright sun that shines down on the porch.

“it’s alright . . it’s not everyday you’re working at some rich guy’s house, right?” he jokes but that strikes a little ick into you — he’s already ticking the boxes of obnoxious and excessively rich, but you hate the effect he’s having on you.

“yeah . . no, i guess,” he hums in reply before sticking a hand out.

“gojo satoru,” he introduces himself, “call me anything but that sir shit, alright, doll?”

you nod obediently, trying not to let the little pet name get to your head because he probably does this to any babysitter who comes through the house, but either way, he’s welcoming you in and it’s like you step into a world unreal. it’s spotless, the floors shining under the sunlight, a large television in the living room, a spacious open concept dining-kitchen area, and this is just the first floor.

gojo takes his time to show you the house — where his kid’s toys were, where the food was, where the bathrooms and bedrooms were, it was never-ending. every step you took made you feel like you were walking the length of the nile, each turn only revealing more rooms and corridors.

and then, finally, his baby boy.

“he’s a cheeky one, takes after his dad,” even with all the cockiness he’s shown to you, you can tell he has a soft spot for his kid. the boy stirs from his father’s voice, gleaming in happiness as he puts out his smaller hands to be picked up. as he settles into his arms, it’s just sinking in how tall your employer is. he makes a toddler look like a baby with how small his son looks wrapped snugly.

“satoshi, hi,” he whispers, bouncing the kid in his arms, “want to say hi to your onee-san?”

you manage a small wave but all he does is turn to hide in his father’s arms, definitely scared from a random stranger suddenly talking to him.

“she’s going to be taking care of you for the next month or so, you know?” he mumbles, brushing a hand through the matching white hair, “be nice to the babysitter, okay?”

all satoshi does is hum into his dad’s neck before he’s giving you a sheepish smile. “he’s like that, don’t worry about him.” and you return the smile, thinking that he wasn’t that obnoxious that you thought and that maybe he’s really a dad trying his hardest for his one kid. you realise he’s taking too much time, though, and so you sought out to remind him.

“oh, uh sir— gojo-san, don’t you have to go to work?”

although he’s mentioned satoshi to be taking after him, the boy goes right back to sleeping when he’s put back into his bed so you follow gojo as he adjusts his cuffs and smoothes out his collar just outside the room and you make the mistake of glancing upon the mirror on the far end of the corridor — it was undeniable that you looked like a high-end couple who’s newly married and raising a kid. you try to shake off the thoughts of adjusting his tie for him.

“it’s not being late if you’re on top.” he smirks and you resist the urge to roll your eyes; at least you weren’t alone in purging the delusional thoughts from your head, he was basically helping you at this point and you struggle between characterising him as conceited and admirable. “but, yeah, i should get going.”

but he stands at the door with backpack slung onto one shoulder while he continues to explain satoshi’s routines to you, his habits and also had to sneak in a few cute photos of the kid while squealing repeatedly and you’re left wondering how this guy could be the CEO of a company.

it’s been like that for as long as you can remember — bidding goodbye to your parents as you tell them that you’re off to your part-time job over the winter break. they’re happy you’re even leaving the house, shoving your lunch into your hands with big smiles that you’re at least doing anything other than sitting in your room. the train ride to the gated residential was nice, too, apart from the very crowded subways for people going to work in roppongi.

gojo greets you every morning when you arrive, reminding you of satoshi’s feeding times and his favourite shows and everything a father should know but don’t have the luxury to experience with aforementioned kid. it’s a little bittersweet, every time you see him kiss satoshi goodbye that turns into remaining in his room, to holding your hand and saying goodbye to daddy from the second floor, to getting carried by you at the front door.

it’s slow but sure progress day after day, from watching his cartoons, feeding him at the kitchen island, playing with his toys, that satoshi feels more and more comfortable with you, learning that while he was a well-behaved boy, he definitely had hints of your employer in him. mannerisms, words, voice, you wonder whether he even got any part of his mother in his genes.

you’d never ask, though, but it was told. unexpectedly.

“i’m home—” the last parts of his word die down into a whisper when he opens the door to see satoshi cuddled up to you, the last bits of home alone playing softly. by now you already know what happens in the movie so you’re texting your friends and laughing softly to yourself, jumping when your boss steps past the doorway. gojo winces when he checks his watch (“fuck. it’s already ten.”), toeing his shoes off and apologising simultaneously.

“oh— man, i’m so sorry, i had a late meeting with the CEO of our neighbouring franchise, i totally forgot about the time—” gojo’s quick to make his way down to the small pit of the house (he likes to call it the conversation pit), settling down on the side where satoshi had his head in your lap as his eyes linger on the movie. instinctively, his hands reach to pat his leg.

“oh, it’s okay, gojo-san, it’s the holidays anyway.”

“yeah?” he turns to you, one arm propped on the back of the sofa, “and why don’t a pretty girl like you have any plans?”

that catches you off-guard, among the many other times he’s called you pretty or sweets like no care in the world. you’re never quite used to it, too, seeking to fluster you. “you shouldn’t say stuff like that to me, gojo-san . .”

“why not?” he’s turned back to the television, now, and you take his place, staring at his side profile as the scenes of the movie move along his face. “i’m a single dad, aren’t i?”

“yeah but . . you could have anyone.”

“what if,” he turns and you chicken out, head snapping back to the front while he watches you and the both of you cannot deny the tiring dance you perform around each other all the time. the clench in his heart when he sees you carry his baby boy at the porch and the small smile he gives you every morning before he leaves for his job. he doesn’t want to go through with it and sighs.

it’s become hard to breathe around you. it’s become hard to hold himself back around you.

“i worked too much.” he suddenly says, facing the TV again. “i was too engrossed and . .”

confusion seeps in at first. yeah, it was no secret he worked his ass off despite being at the very top. your gaze falls to satoshi, curling more into your side like he’s cold and you adjust the blanket. you nod in recognition.

“we fought a lot. i tried— i tried to alter my schedule as much as i could, driving to and fro whenever she needed me, bringing satoshi to work as a baby when we couldn’t come to a compromise, but it was a lot. for her, for satoshi. he could sense whenever we were about to fight, on edge voices, items clattering to the floor . .”

by now, he’s leaned back, back of his hand resting on his forehead, “and he’d cry like he was interrupting us. cheeky, i told you,” and his eyes close, “we hardly reached middle ground. it was either this or that, hire a nanny or we take care of him, my endless job or the joy of life. i’m ashamed that i’ve prioritised my job more, and still do it now.”

“if you didn’t, i wouldn’t be here, would i?”

that draws a chuckle out of him, “correct.”

“she couldn’t take it, not when she was a businesswoman on top of that. she was out doing herself at every aspect in her job, going to greater heights, and while she accused me of putting work first, she isn’t entirely innocent, either. but that’s . .”

“you don’t have to say anything, gojo-san,” you mumble as you watch the reunion of the characters in the movie before the screen cuts the black, no doubt affecting him in some way at the warmth displayed by the movie that contrasts heavily with his situation, “the fact that you even told me is . .”

the heavy atmosphere is disrupted by satoshi gasping, “papa! you’re home.”

you exchange awkward smiles as you watch the boy fight his way out of the blanket to hug gojo, the latter huffing when the boy drops his body weight on him and you take it as a sign to give them a bit of privacy, standing up to clean up the popcorn and cups. laughter and your employer’s voice resonate throughout the place even as they go up the stairs, a rare occasion where gojo is able to get his son ready for bed.

it’s only maybe an hour later when the house falls into silence. mouth burning from the mouthwash, the heater in satoshi’s room turned to a high setting, one bedtime story was read (which, he fell asleep halfway), the boy was out like a light. you felt it inappropriate to leave without at least saying goodbye, but you also didn’t want to cut into their time together; at least, that’s what you told yourself.

so you waited with your things on the kitchen island, getting a risky text just as gojo comes down, still in his suit from work.

[11:02pm, nobara -> you] BITCH GET THAT DICKKKKK!!!!!!!

and you yelp softly, slamming your phone down onto his marble counter. thankfully, he doesn’t notice, eyes close to shutting from fatigue.

“oh, shit, you’re still here?”

“i thought it would be, weird, if i didn’t say goodbye,” you get ready to leave, slinging your tote bag on, “but i also didn’t want to intrude on your time with satoshi, limited as it is.” well, you did also wish something would happen, but you had too much pride to admit it to yourself.

“you got a ride home?” he yawns and you feel guilty for extending your stay already. you didn’t even need to worry about the front door, he lived in a gated community for christ’s sake!

“um, not really, but i can always book an uber home.”

“i’ll drive you home, it’s unsafe,” is all he says like he’s trying to convince himself, “let me just get changed and we can go.”

gojo doesn’t leave you any room to protest before he’s up the stairs again and you’re left with a pounding heart and dizzy head, not sure what might ensue. you know him to be honourable; you’ve seen him with his child, you’ve seen him interact with his neighbours, but a late ride with your boss sounds sketchy as it is.

but it doesn’t feel like it when you feel the tokyo wind blowing through your hair, a slight gap in the window bringing you the chills of the night as he silently drives you back home. sitting in your employer’s car most of all felt weird, but even more so when he’s reaching your home faster than the gps system had predicted. his knuckles are white.

“you—”

your head snaps to him, “yes?”

his car headlights are the brightest in the parking lot where every car is silent, quiet, much like his clammy hands and red cheeks. gojo satoru turns to you, feeling that familiar tug in his heart and lump in his throat for the first time in a while, and he can’t speak.

but you lean forward like your life depends on it and you leap inwardly when you see that he does the same. eyes trained forward, your stares boring into the other, waiting to see who’d close their eyes first. you just stop short of an inch, met with the hypnotising swirls of raging oceans in gojo’s eyes and you swallow when his eyes flit down to your lips and back up like he wouldn’t get caught.

with shaking hands, your fingers trace over his lips and you sigh when you feel just how soft they are, just like his skin, just like his eyes when they look at satoshi. your heart skips a beat when he just lightly kisses the pads of your fingers, and that encourages you to cradle his cheek, up his jaw, up his undercut.

“let’s just kiss, yeah?” he was afraid that if he spoke too loud, he’d shatter the glass, snap the string of tension, voice cracking until you swallow it, you stomach his nervousness with a lively, strong kiss from your lips to his, and he just melts.

gojo hums into the kiss, leaning forward over the stick shift and into the passenger seat before you counter it with your own movements: hand on his shoulders and pushing until you’re on his space of the driver’s seat and playing the game of tug that’s been going on for the past few weeks. you win.

“god, you’re so . .” gojo whines out when you climb onto him, whispering into your mouth while you get comfortable in your straddling position, cutting him off with a second, rougher kiss and you both moan softly, passion taking over in the evident way your arms scramble to wrap around him while he pulls you flush against his front.

the car is filled with sounds of your kissing, something that definitely shouldn’t be done in his home and yet you risk it all in your home’s parking lot. you break the kiss and hide in his neck, already starting the makings of a hickey there while your pelvis selfishly grinds into his front and he kneads your ass. in the mingling of breaths and moans, he’s left to stop the two of you when there’s a muffled ringtone coming from your bag and you swallow at the insanity of the situation.

“i’ll see you, monday, right?” gojo breathlessly says later, bulge still showing through his sweats while you hang outside the driver’s side, not wanting to leave. he takes your hand, planting a peck on it and then brings you in for another harmless kiss.

“yeah, gojo-san . . monday.”

you lose count of how many times you’ve swallowed throughout the night, but he says something to lift the mood just a bit.

“we just made out and you’re still calling me by my last name?”

you laugh lightly, “monday, satoru. i’ll be there, same time, on monday.”

gojo leaves a farewell kiss to the inside of your wrist, “attagirl.”

but if you’re not careful, it might just happen in satoru’s house.

the remainder of your employment at his house is tiring. it’s so hard not to kiss him before he leaves for work, so difficult not to long for him while you take care of satoshi, so entirely harrowing not to claim him as yours as you watch him play after his work. at this point, you’re hoping school will just start soon and the rush of assignments and readings will take your mind off of it, but you cannot deny the excitement every time you leave your house.

“you’ll bring food and cook every monday, wednesday, friday, and i’ll order food for the both of you every tuesday and thursday, how’s that?” gojo thinks it’s time to introduce him to larger pieces of food, but it’s gone past that by now and to your meal arrangements.

“i’m okay with cooking, though!” you assure him, and plus, you loved your parents’ home cooked bentos that they give you everyday, “do we gotta?”

“sorting out meals is tiring, (y/n),” gojo takes the place beside you, leaning against the counter just like you before drinking out of his cup, “i want to at least help at little.”

“you already are.” you smile, “i can see you making the effort.”

“it’s not enough, though, i could be doing better.”

gojo hates how this scene sets up — like two parents just figuring out the best for their kid — it’s a callback to the memory in the same exact kitchen. at least all you do is kiss and make out, because he wouldn’t know what to do if you moan out his name in that same intimate way that threatens his walls to come down again. he loved sex, he loved the bedroom, but he’s riding a thin line the way he’s doing with you.

“you are,” is everything that you say, and you leap forward to kiss him. you do it so hard that he has to put down the glass to fully embrace you, walking you backwards to the conversation pit and he carries you so effortlessly because he doesn’t want you walking backwards down some stairs.

he hates how you bring him into your lips, he hates how gently he lays you down, and he hates how you accept the kisses down your neck and body. you, on the other hand, aren’t doing so well, either — it’s either a hit or miss with a broken man like gojo satoru, and you’re stepping on glass shards hoping you don’t say anything wrong with him because he’s trying his best but he just can’t see it.

“are you okay with this?” he asks halfway down your torso and he gets lightheaded from how well his hands cover your waist. “tell me to stop, and i’ll stop.”

“n-no . . keep going, satoru.”

he exhales shakily at that, fingers tugging your top up and his hands are so cold you resist shivering, but you do anyway from the sheer fucking craziness that gojo drives you into. one pop of your button, and you’re already lifting your hips off the couch for him to remove your pants but movement on the stairs make you halt.

“papa?” satoshi calls out sleepily, rubbing his eyes and pouting. you can see it, almost, with how much time you’ve spent with the kid, and you hope he can’t see you. “i . . i had a nightmare and i just— i wanna sleep with you.”

he’s started sniffling and you feel your heart break that he knows his papa well enough to know he would never sleep in his room. his job always has him sleeping out in the living room.

go. you mouth, kissing your fingers and pressing it to his lips before he puts on a show — yawning, stretching his arms, already making satoshi feel at ease with his theatrics before he’s stopping at the foot of the stairs to look back at you. you already know gojo satoru has redeemed himself a hundred times over. i’ll see you tomorrow.

funnily, satoshi somehow does have some intervention powers, because each time the both of you attempt to go down on each other, he’s either saying he threw up, or he needs to use the toilet, or that he’s hungry. while you both love him to death, it’s also becoming difficult to hold back each time you see each other. his car in your parking lot is all he has and you dare not to go to his workplace where rumours would spark.

so after a tiring night of getting a hyper satoshi to sleep, you’d at least try. at this point, you know not to expect too much out of it, starting always with some talking. it was easy to talk to your boss, and when you phrase it like that, it did come off a little strange, but it was far from that when your boss in his late 30s looked just like he did ten years ago and that he had crazy blue eyes and insane white hair and was hot.

“thank you for taking care of him for the past month and a half,” gojo thanked you, leaning over to give you a peck to the temple, “it means a lot.”

“he’s a sweet boy, plus, i do need the money,” you giggle, nudging him, “and it did let me get to know you . .”

“certainly,” he mumbles. drunk off your scent, he leans in again, kissing you fully on the lips now. you hum softly, going on your tippy toes and wrapping your arms around his shoulder. swiftly, he props you on the kitchen counter and you yelp in surprise, unable to help the throb of your pussy when he slots himself in between your legs.

jokingly, he puts his hand to his ear. “no satoshi interruption tonight?”

you smack his shoulder, “don’t jinx it.”

he laughs, a proper laugh before he sighs shakily, fingers thumbing your sides gently. “you know . . we shouldn’t be doing this,” you feel your heart sink a little, but he quells it with hovering lips over yours, “he could hear and wake up.”

“then why have you been accepting all my kisses, gojo satoru?” your eyes challenge him, but you know one touch from him would have you submitting to him. his breath fans over your lips, and you can feel his pulse speed up when your fingers go over his neck, to his nape, to his undercut. you run your fingertips through it.

“you have too much power over me, simple.” that sentence has your eyes fluttering close. it’s too much for you and yet you welcome it with open arms, “it’s become so bad that you’re all i think about.”

“is that so?” you pull lightly on his hair.

he nods, foreheads touching now and he’s trying to hold himself back, but, “i’ve been holding back, entirely too much, baby, and i don’t think i can, anymore.”

“yeah?” you whisper, bringing him in with your legs, “show me, then.”

gojo satoru decides that maybe taking the leap isn’t so bad, so he fully gives himself to you, tugging your lips to his in a clashing kiss that has you groaning in pain just a bit. he giggles and apologises and tries again, and this time, it’s got your hips moving against him, whimpering into his mouth. gojo’s hard just from kissing, something that he’s desperate to relieve himself off so — he’s whispering for you to hang on while he slots his hands under your ass and lifts you.

satoru knows his house well, walking up with you in tow and lips still on yours, right into his room. you giggle when he plops you down and he’s already looking forward to ravishing you, but —

“let me check on satoshi for a sec.”

you laugh silently, “of course, satoru, go.”

and once your boss’ made sure his son is out cold in slumber, he’s all over you again and definitely showing you how much he’s been holding himself back. you’re the pure focus of the night, making you chase for more when he pulls away and kissing down your body. he worships it, tongue circling a nipple while his hand plays with the other, eyes staring holes into yours from how intense the blue was.

“s-satoru . .”

“yes, sweets, what is it?”

“feels good—” you whine, back arching into his hold once he leaves your tits and continues down your body. each kiss is like hellfire against your cold skin, and he pops a button and listens out again, both of you sighing in relief and giggling to each other when you don’t hear a knock on the door.

“does it? good.” it’s tantalisingly slow, the pace at which gojo peels your clothes off, but when your pants are finally off, he marvels at your beauty as he brings your legs apart. you’re shy, hiding yourself behind your arms and resisting his hands.

“aht, no, c’mon, show yourself, baby.” he only moans when he sees the dark patch at the centre of your underwear, pressing a finger into your clit and you’re ashamed at how intensely you react to it. gojo continues his torture, thumbing your bud just to watch your face contort into pleasure, “so, so pretty.”

you preen at the praise, even more so when he pulls your panties to the side and sucks slowly on your clit. it’s slow, again, and you’re clutching the sheets so tight when he lays his tongue flat against your pussy. satoru takes his time, savouring each bit of your cunt to make up for lost time, filling the room with the lewdest noises of your sopping cunt on his tongue.

“taste so fuckin’ sweet, pussy’s s’good,” he practically moans into your core, arms wrapping around your thighs to bring you closer while you try to keep your noises down to a minimum. little pants and mewls leave your lips, eyes never leaving the head of hair.

but he’s unpredictable, as gojo always is, so when he’s hovering over you just to give you a little innocent kiss, you think nothing of it, until he’s back in front of your pussy and starts eating you out like a starved man. you let out a loud moan, dragging it out until you’re gulping down your next sounds. it doesn’t help much, though, cause gojo’s slurping at your pussy like it’s the end of the world.

“s-satoru—! too much—” you moan but your hips grind into his mouth, your hands now finding purchase in his hair, “t-too loud.”

“mmf— don’t care,” he mumbles into your cunt, making sure he gets every drop of your arousal on his tongue while he abuses your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking hard and you think it’s the best head you’ve ever gotten.

“not when your cunt’s so perfect,” you only press his head deeper into you like it would stop his muffled sentences, but that only spurs him to suck harder before he just shifts down a little to plunge his tongue into your hole. you choke out a moan as his nose nudges your clit, clenching around his muscle.

“relax— mmhh, you gotta relax, baby,” he’s massaging your thighs but if anything it does the exact opposite, closing your thighs around his head in sensitivity.

“it’s— h-hard to,” you moan out, already feeling the coil in your tummy that’s approaching oh, so quickly when gojo eats you out like this. he shifts his attention back to your puffy clit, eyes flicking up to make contact with yours and you shrivel under his intense stare, “w-when you’re making me feel s’good—!”

you feel him smile into your cunt but he says nothing, taking note of the drop of your jaw, the scrunch of your eyes, the contractions of your stomach. your legs like to straighten out and shake when you’re close, he memorises. when you start to tighten your grip on his hair, he ingrains it in his mind.

“cumming— i’m c-close,” but it’s like satoru doesn’t even need it when his eyes digest the way he sends you over the edge with just his tongue.

“g— god! satoru!” your mouth falls into a silent scream after, head dipping so much into the pillow while you grind your cunt into his face, gushing all over his face with a renewed spirit and regret for all those times that men have rubbed your left lip thinking it was your clit.

“let it go, yeess . . that’s it,” satoru doesn’t hesitate to get sloppy, sucking up all your cum, gasping for air once he’s done with his meal, “pretty girl just came all over my face.”

you struggle to your elbows despite the words he utters, propped up just to catch a glimpse of him and the soaked bottom of his face that stretches into a smile.

“was that better than all the uni boys who’ve never felt the touch of a woman?” you laugh at that, making quick work of grabbing his chin and bringing him back to your lips.

“much, much better.” and you take the opportunity to flip the tables, trembling, shaking legs trying their best to wrap around his torso to straddle him — but once you’re over, you’re not quite sure what to do apart from letting your hands roam all over the expanse of his shoulders and chest.

“and can she do it again all over my cock?” the obscene words sound almost taboo falling from his mouth that your mouth drops open in initial shock, but it subsides into anticipation soon enough.

wordlessly, you take matters into your own hands, fingers making quick work of his trousers while he removes his top impatiently. the scowl on your face is prominent when you struggle to work his belt out and he chuckles with helping hands, the burn on your face deepening.

“there,” gojo giggles and he pulls you in with a peck-filled apology, “don’t worry, we have all the time in the world.”

you hum, “not when your son could knock any time soon.”

that prompts a giggle that fades off into a loud moan once your warm hand wraps around him, something that he’d never tell you how many times he’s fantasised about. slowly, you stroke his cock, excruciatingly slow just like how he’s done to your cunt earlier.

you’re hovering over him, now, dragging his tip along your pussy and whining softly at the pre-cum that mixes together with your juices. you need him into you as soon as possible, and apart from your soon burning thighs, you’ve been wanting this for as long as you’ve stepped foot into his house from the very first day.

inch by inch, you sink down onto gojo’s weeping cock, getting the luxury of feeling his sensitive twitches with the plunge into your cunt. you’re glad at least he had offered to stretch you out just a tad bit earlier, the intrusion of his fingers already having you panting for his dick; and now, when you have the real thing, it drives your mind insane.

“’t-toru— haah . .” your body curls up from the painful stretch, lips muttering the nickname unknowingly as you grasp onto his shoulders for support, and while he helps you on, he never stops saying the most filthy things, grinning each time you clench around him.

“never thought i’d be here, fuckin’ the babysitter, but here we are,” your oh my god is whispered only for the other to hear, body burning up from the words before he grinds his pelvis into yours and you slump forward in pleasure. your words are a bunch of nothingness, a string of incoherence, “and her pussy’s just so fucking— tight!”

giving you one or two breaths of rest, satoru coos in your face, cradling it and littering kisses all over it before he’s moving his hips and you’re breaking the kiss to whine out, moving your hips to meet his as well. you move sooner or later, bouncing on his cock once you’re more used to him in you and the position only hits all your spots just right.

“f-fuck— you’re so big—!” you roll your hips into him, eyes stuck on how there’s just a small bump in your tummy each time you bottom out. your boss from across you is equally ruined, eyes struggling to keep open with wet hair stuck to his forehead. “feel so so g-good . .”

“yeah?” he breathlessly mumbles, hand squeezing and kneading your ass and trying to help you, but the warmth of your cunt around his length just feels too good. “bounce on that dick, baby.”

and you do, planting your feet into the bed and fingers creating bruises along his shoulders as you impale yourself on his fat cock, switching to relaxing in his embrace and letting your hips do the work when your legs start hurting. there, you indulge in gojo’s lips as you hump him, the delicious friction of your clit against his pubes sending you reeling.

“you’re going to be soaking my sheets from how much you’re leaking,” gojo jests, letting your moans take over his mind while his lips trace down your neck, eyes just peeking over to see your ass ripple from the force. “not that i mind. how’s she doin’?”

“she’s getting,” a choked whine interrupts you, “a little tired.”

and that draws a laugh out of gojo who does nothing but tease you, something he likes to do even in makeout sessions, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach over to his bedsie table to grab his phone, leaning back to bask in your glory. here, your body just looks heavenly as you try your best to move on his lap.

“hang on a little more for me, princess,” with one hand, his larger hand leave chills all over your body and the other points his phone at you, not before making sure you were okay with it, “and smile for the camera.”

you try your best even when his hand make his way to your mouth, pulling it open with his fingers to slot it in. you’re sure you look like a whore right now, but the camera pointed your way only turn you on more, like it’s beckoning you to put on a show. and you loved the attention, so you close your lips around his fingers and start sucking, grinding even harsher on his cock that has gojo stuttering.

“y—yeah, attagirl . .” he grins at the video he takes, “show the camera how much of a cockslut you are.”

you whine, bringing the hand to your clit while you shove two hands onto his torso to really work your thighs out, feeling that familiar curl in your stomach once he starts rubbing his saliva-filed fingers along you bundle of nerves.

“r-right there, satoru—!” you swear under your breath, giving hooded eyes to the camera while you chase your high drunkenly, all sort of coherent thought banished from your head. “love your cock, love it, love it—!”

satoru swears he wants to cum from just watching you use him, and even holding himself back is proving difficult when you clamp and tighten around him until his fingers press particularly deep into your clit and you’re cumming with a loud cry of his name, body convulsing all over the video.

“tha’s a good girl . . cream my cock, yeeaaahh . .” gojo watches, hypnotised, as you lose control over your body, but the pleasure-filled whimper that you merge his name with is just too good, that he spills unexpectedly in you. the video is far from stable, so he only slaps the phone down to relish in his orgasm. gojo pushes his hips up and you gasp at the feeling, back arching when you feel his cum seep into you.

you’ve never even given much thought to pregnancy, but the feeling of his cum dribbling into you fogs your mind that you only want more after a mental note to buy the morning after pill tomorrow.

“n-need more,” you beg, fondling at his cheeks and undercut, “w-want more cum in me, satoru . .”

and it’s like a flip switches in him, because he’s flipping you over right after — he has to see his cum leave your pussy first though, taking the still ongoing video and putting it right up to your pussy, using his tip to smear your mixed juices all around.

“who knew i’d hired such a dirty girl?” he addresses the camera more than you, but he catches your flustered glance with a wink and after poorly setting up the camera on his bedside table (he just was too intoxicated on your cunt), he’s pushing back into you with a loud groan, not even caring for the consequences any more. his cum is just so much, too, spilling out the sides.

“only f’r you,” you mumble, grabbing at his forearms needily. your eyes flutter close as he bottoms out, your legs pushed right up to your chest as he folds you whichever way he wants to. at this point, if he wanted to own you, you wouldn’t object one bit, not when gojo satoru’s cock stretches your pretty pussy so nicely. “a cumslut only for you.”

“yeah?” he starts moving his hips and your arch into his hold, “i wonder how i got so — fuck — lucky.” everything is sloppy and wet and disgusting and you love every moment of it, even after he’s cummed in you the second, third, fourth time, you’re happy to be pumped full of his cum, giving him a tired, glistening grin that he returns.

“think i should be transferring over my life savings for a cunt this sweet,” you giggle at the compliment, but don’t protest when he’s pulling up the app to gift you with a hefty amount; both your salary and bonus, all from making gojo satoru fall helplessly just from your touch — something to brag about indeed.

3K notes · View notes

neil-gaiman · 5 months

Note

Hullo mr. Gaiman!

Sure as hell you receive quite the number of asks, can only hope you’ll see this one. It may be my second ask of this kind and I’m not trying to spam but I happen to have… slightly miscalculated something. Trying to ask does no harm though.

Some time ago, like a bit more than a month, I sent you an ask saying that I’d mailed you a drawing, but there’d been a bit of a mess with the address and I couldn’t be sure wether you’d receive it, asking if I could send it here just in case. You did answer (thanks!) and I did send it some time after, cause well I kinda was on a stage in the meantime, so I guess you didn’t see that at all, and well. I underestimated my curiosity ‘bout what you’d think of it. A Hercules-Corona Borealis Great Wall-sized bit of curiosity. It’d just be really really really cool if I had the certainty you saw this drawing here. It has some meaning to me, at least. It’s only that like, I use art as my only way to express positive emotions since I was quite little, I seem to be learning only now at almost 21 (and thanks to your works I’d add) to do so other ways than that. My approach to life seems to have been a bit of a mess since… well, always. And a bit of an unusual life it’s been. So here it is:

Some of it is charcoal, some is sewn, some is sand. I just kinda skipped the choosing-technique part.

Thank you again,

It looks like real art and it looks like me as well.

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aliidarling · 5 months

Text

using you

RICK GRIMES X fem!reader

nsfw content — scroll if uncomfortable!!

summary: rick takes his anger out on you after lori's death because he's a self projecting loser and wants u really bad

warnings: p in v, no foreplay, rough sex, pussy slapping, age gap, degradation, mean rick, fingering, anal threats LOL, self projecting rick, old lonely rick, sweetish rick at the end ig

btw thank u everyone for sending me ideas for male manipulator rick pt.2 :) I'm definitely gonna take these into thought and write sum

i wrote this in three sittings like a week apart so some parts might not match up...

nsfw content below!!

Rick hadn’t come up from the basement of the prison in almost two days. No one had seen him, leading everyone to question if he was even alive anymore.

The death of Lori had impacted him. The atmosphere was tense, and not many words had been spoken. No one wanted to go down to comfort Rick, not wanting to get snapped at. Angry Rick was something else.

Hershel was the one who recommended you to go down and talk to Rick. At first, you were against it, because why? Carl was his son, Glenn was the first one he met out of everyone, and Daryl was like his brother. There was no reason why you should. You were just one of the younger girls in the group.

“Because he has a soft spot for you, sweetheart.” Hershel says gently, sighing and rubbing his temple. Your brows furrow as you think about his words.

“What? No— Rick hates me,” You scoff.

Every time you had tried to talk to the man he’d order you around and be cold to you, never letting you breathe without getting a stupid scolding. It was walking on eggshells around him.

“No, no.” He chuckles, brushing his hands through his thin white hair. He sits up. “He cares about you in his own little way, okay? You’re the only one here he wouldn’t hurt. Not that he’d hurt anyone else— but…” He groans. “You know what I mean.”

You frown at him, picking at your hair. You reluctantly stand up, tossing your jacket on top of your shirt. “If I don’t come back in an hour, you know what happened.” You grumble dramatically.

He rolls his eyes and waves you off, giving you a little grateful smile.

A few minutes later, you were walking down the staircase into the boiler room, a frown painted onto your expression. You could hear angry muttering and the sound of metal clattering.

Just on your way here you had heard him yelling, you didn’t know at who. It worried you, was he already going crazy? Or was someone else down here with him?

As you walk inside the small, dark room, a messy-looking Rick comes into view. His hair was messy, his curls damp with sweat as he grumbled angrily to himself, leaning against a table.

He quickly turns at the sounds of your footsteps, hands on his hips as he narrows his eyes at your figure. What the hell were you doing here? Did no one get the message that he wanted to be left alone?

“What.” He huffs firmly, his body language cold and distant. He was always mean to you, but this just felt different, like he was a ticking time bomb. It made you shudder as you nervously picked at your hair, stepping closer.

“You’ve been down here for a while, Rick. Everyone’s getting worried.” You said softly, looking up at the older man through your lashes. It felt weird to be so nice and caring to him, he had just lost his wife— you felt bad. Horrible, even.

And a part of you made your guilt ten times stronger knowing you were still attracted to him throughout this whole mess. Even though he had pushed you away so many times, called you names, and ordered you around like a child, you felt connected to him. Like you wanted more than a simple friendship.

But the fact he was mourning his wife's death and all you could think was how good he looked with his shirt half-buttoned and his curls messy? God, you were a horrible person.

A dry chuckle leaves him, the sound echoing in the room, making you shiver. His demeaning attitude towards you has you shrinking, wanting the walls around you to swallow you whole as long as that meant you didn’t have to be alone in a room with him.

“So worried they call you down here out of everyone else?” He scoffs.

Ouch.

“I’m just trying to be here for you, you don’t have to be such a jackass.” You sneered at him.

Once the words left your mouth, you felt kinda bad. He was struggling with his wife’s death, and here you were being rude to him.

A small sigh left you as you stepped forward, hesitantly placing your palm on his bicep, trying to give him a little bit of comfort. It was the least you could do, right? You had managed to screw up your entire friendship with this man, but maybe you could turn it around starting… now?

As he feels your touch on his bicep, he turns to you quickly in response— almost as a reflex— and presses you against the table aggressively. A yelp leaves you as you find yourself being cornered by the large man, looking up at him in shock.

Never mind, jeez.

“You wanna be here for me?” He growled, his hand going to hold your throat, not squeezing but keeping it there as a warning not to cross him.

You give him a shaky nod, not knowing what to say or do that wouldn’t cause his temper to blow. It already blew.. But you knew what he was capable of, and you were scared of getting on his bad side more than you already were.

“Use your words.”

“Yeah, I wanna help you.” You press your lips together nervously, giving him a hesitant nod.

His eyes darken, looking you up and down and weighing the options. He hums lowly, his hands slowly wrapping around your waist, his fingertips pressing into your skin through your shirt.

“Huh.” He can’t help but smile at you, but not a sweet one. A mocking grin. You shuddered.

“How about you start off by bending over that desk then? Since you wanna be good for me so badly.” He laughs darkly, flipping you around smoothly and kicking the back of your knee.

You stumble slightly and find yourself bending over the edge of the desk, a huff leaving you as you flinch in surprise. Instinctively, you try and straighten yourself but he keeps one of his hands pressed on your lower back.

“What are you doing? You know this isn’t what I meant—“ You say breathlessly, not having the power to fight back for some odd reason. The position had you tingling between your legs, your stomach in knots and your mouth dry.

You felt ashamed to be so into this. He was coping in an extremely unhealthy manner— but could you even stop him if you tried? Did you want to?

He ignores your words and grasps the back of your jacket, pulling it off and leaving you in your spaghetti-strapped tank top. It was hot in the prison, could you blame yourself for dressing in thinner clothing?

“Always dressed like a fuckin’ slut, begging for attention from me. Think I don’t notice? Hmm? How you’re always nagging me and trying your damnest to spend time with me?” His words leave him harshly as he leans over to push your hair over your shoulder, leaving your back empty for him without any distractions.

“Don’t say that.” You mutter softly, eyes fluttering as you feel his breath brush over your skin. Goosebumps appeared on your smooth skin, lips pressing together to conceal the heavy exhale you wanted to release.

“Why? Because you know I’m right?” He chuckles dryly. His hands rub over your back, grabbing the end of your top and pulling it up to bunch over your chest. Your heart skips a beat and you try to pull away, but he only pulls you closer, pressing his crotch firmly against your butt. He sighs in relief at the friction, grinding subtly.

The next few minutes are him just grinding against you from behind, muttering a mean ‘shut up’ whenever you’d let out a noise. This was for him. He didn’t care about you— didn’t care that he was leaving you needy and aching, all he wanted was to relieve himself.

“Take your pants off.” He grumbles, leaning back just a few inches to unbuckle his belt. He smoothly pulls it out of his jean loops, and then unzips his fly and pulls his jeans down. He’s fast and aggressive, and soon enough his hard cock is pressing against his lower tummy, his tip red and throbbing.

You blink in surprise, but you try and process his words quickly. Okay. He wants your pants off. This was for him to feel better, just take your damn pants off, dumbass. Don’t make his day worse.

Shakily, you pull your pants down to your ankles, your butt in front of him with your panties hugging your curvy hips. He stares down at you, eyes narrowing at the sight of the damp spot on your panties.

“Slut.” He kicks your legs open with his foot before landing a harsh slap against your pussy, making you cry out. Your brows furrow as you try to suppress your noises as he keeps going at it, his rough palm delivers harsh strikes to your sensitive area.

“O-Ow— Rick!” You whine, wiggling your butt as the slaps have you growing more and more wet. This was so embarrassing!

“Had I known you like gettin’ that pussy slapped I would have done it a lot sooner, sweetie.” He coos mockingly, a low snicker leaving his throat. He parts his hand from your panties. His large fingers grasp into your panties and pull them to the side, nudging your legs further apart and aligning himself with you.

“Take a deep breath, baby.” He huffs before thrusting himself inside you with one stroke, burying himself to the hilt. Your body tenses immediately, eyes watering at the large stretch your insides felt at the intrusion.

You immediately let out a shaky cry, clawing at the table for something to hold onto as you try and adjust to the feeling. His girth was thick, ripping you apart. The lack of foreplay and prep had you wincing.

“Awww, did I hurt ya’? Poor thing, little hole must burn sooo much.” His words sounded so mean, his dark eyes gazing down at your figure. He scanned each inch of your body. Your arch, your hips, waist, your hair— it all looked so good. He wanted to ruin you.

You struggle to speak as you feel him sit nice and snug inside you, your sight going blurry. You whimper like a pathetic puppy into the desk, the cold steel making you cringe and squirm. If he was gonna force himself in your pussy, couldn’t he of at least done it somewhere more comfy?

“S-Screw you,” You groan lowly, your eyes already rolling back. And he hasn’t even started to move yet.

“Mhmm, s’okay sweet girl, I’ll get there.” He hushed you gently. Your doughy flesh is so soft to his rough palms, making him smile as he grips your waist a little tighter. He uses your waist to hold you down as he starts to slowly pull out, leaving just the tip before slamming himself back inside. Not even a rag in your mouth could stop the moan that leaves you, your body wincing in a mix of pain and pleasure.

The next few minutes are messy and full of whimpering and shushing, your body quivering as he keeps thrusting into your hole like there’s no tomorrow. You were just a stress relief for him at the moment— a pretty face with a tight cunt he could fuck for hours.

Yeah, he was mean to you even before he decided to fuck you in this boiler room, but that was only because he didn’t know how to handle his emotions around you! You were a sweet young girl with a cute face and a good rack of tits, always trying to talk to him when he had a wife and a son, could he even interact with you without getting scolded by Lori?

He let out a shaky grunt as he slams his hips into you over and over again, watching your perfect ass jiggle at the force he put into you. Your noises were perfect, he had spent probably hours imagining how you’d sound with him inside you. He couldn’t count the amount of times he had imagined you while he was in bed with Lori. He was a horrible husband, but he blamed you for it. You were the reason of his lack of loyalty, so he may as well punish you for it. You were pretty much asking for it the second you came downstairs with that pretty face.

“Fuck, fuck,” He groans, bending over to press his chest flush against your back and pressing himself against you. He wanted you to feel every damn inch of him, feel how deep he was inside your dumb little pussy and how he made you feel.

“You feel that? Huh? Feel how fuckin’ deep I am inside that needy pussy? Can feel you squeezing me, sweetheart, must feel so good, right?” He shushes your cries as he manages to push his cock deeper, his fat head brushing against your sweet spot that has you clenching down.

“Mhm, feels so good.” You sniffle. He giggled lowly at how pathetic you sounded, almost feeling the urge to comfort you for a second.

He’s wanted this for so long. Half the reason why he was spiraling after Lori’s death was because of the agonizing guilt he felt for still fantasizing about you when he had a whole newborn waiting for him. But now he had you, and he was not gonna let you go, and even if you begged and cried— he had already sunk his claws(cock) deep inside you.

His hand reaches to the front of your neck to grasp it and pull you tighter against him, giving your neck a little squeeze. He hums in approval at how your body tightens around him, his hips picking up speed.

“Good, good, jus’ like that, good girl,” He mumbled, squeezing his hand around your neck just a tiny bit more, loving the expression that fell over your face. A few more long minutes of him inflicting a fast and rough pace that expresses his self-projecting hatred towards you pass, the both of you out of breath and sweating.

“Can I cum? Please?” You whisper shakily, a soft moan coming from you as his thrusts continue. Your lips quiver and struggle to choke out words as you feel him repeatedly slam into your g-spot, eyes watering from the pleasure and your legs going wobbly.

“Oh, oh please, Rick—!” A loud moan escapes your throat before you have time to hold it back. You had been stripped down to a cheap whore bent over a table, but you didn’t care, it felt so good.

He answers your question by squeezing your throat, reaching forward to rub your clit. You clenching down on him has him groaning and almost stuttering with his thrusts, brows furrowing as he starts to get a little sloppy with his rhythm.

Without wasting any time, you feel yourself cumming hard around his cock and spasming, crying out at the force. A few more tears slip as you whimper onto the table, shaky hands grasping at anything to hold onto it.

A crooked grin paints his face as he gazes down at your shaky figure, slowly pulling out and watching his cum drip out of your leaky hole.

He hums and gently picks you up and sits you down on top of the desk, parting your thighs open and pressing the cum back inside you. Your eyes widen slightly in shock as his large finger shoves itself back inside you, making you cry out at the sensitivity you felt.

“R-Rick,” You attempt to plead before he rudely shushes you, crumbling apart as he fingers you open brutally. More tears stream as he watches with an amused glint, taking in the sight of you crying as he shoves his fingers inside your pussy violently.

“You can take it, shush, be a good girl.” He mumbles, sliding them in and out smoothly without any stop, his other hand going to rub at your spent clit. He almost felt bad for you, but then he remembered you were the little brat making him think like an unloyal husband— and he resumed with his torture.

Once he has you coming apart on his fingers again, he slides them out of you and whistles meanly, smirking at his slick-covered fingers. He maintains eye contact with you as he brings them up to your mouth, tapping them against your lips.

“Please don’t.” You whine, trembling in embarrassment. Could this get any more humiliating?!

“Shut up and be a good fuck toy.” He grunts. You shrivel and slowly part your lips, taking his wet fingers and sucking gently, your eyes fluttering shut as you didn’t want to look him in the eye while doing this.

After cleaning his fingers, he parts from you and gives you a once over, scowling.

“You’re not too bad when you’re not being an annoying fuck, y’know. Maybe you should bend over for me more often.” He sniggers, pulling his jeans back up and buckling his belt back on. He tidies up his appearance and gives you a side-eye.

“I’m so telling Hershel.” You grumble, struggling to pull your pants back on with limping legs. He rolls his eyes and aggressively tugs them back on for you. You flinch at the force and almost stumble onto your ass but you eventually have your clothes back on you because of his help. You give him an awkward smile, and he just glares at you in return.

“…I guess you could say I did help you, right?” You grin sheepishly, before gasping softly as he pulls you in for a kiss. He mutters a small “Shut up,” against your lips before interlocking his with yours, his hands wrapping around your waist and pressing your body flush against his.

He parts slowly from you, a small saliva trail showing before dissolving mid-air. He stares down at you, before nudging you in the direction of the exit.

“Don’t tell anyone about this, kay? You tell a soul and I’ll shove it in your butt next time, brat.” He scoffs, turning away and gazing back at the wall like the depressed old man he is.

You can’t help but smile as you walk away.

Next time, huh?

You were a little delusional, but why the hell not?

#Spotify #rick grimes #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes smut #rick grimes x reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead smut

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dollfacefantasy · 1 year

Text

Hold My Calls

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: you teasing leon about his flip phone leads to some fun

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), fucking during a phone call, age gap, daddy kink, praise/degradation, over-stimulation

word count: 2.9k

a/n: hey everyone school is kicking my ass rn, but i am back with another one. thank you so much for the support on my last post that meant the world to me. i don't care if this is not technologically accurate or whatever just let me be delusional in peace. as always comments and reblogs are appreciated and i will give you special smooches in return <3 also thank you too my loves @tosuckmyweenis @kaitkatme @chasingkennedy @explorevenus @sleepyluxe @death-paint @petitecolibri for helping me come up with ideas for this one and/or beta reading - ily all sm :)

When you started dating Leon Kennedy, obviously you knew there was an age gap. You figured it wasn’t a big deal. He’s only thirty-six. That isn’t that much older. And for the most part, that was true. The difference in years never seemed to play a huge part in how you loved each other. But there was one thing that reminded you of this man’s age.

He had a fucking flip phone.

Honestly, it didn’t even say much about his age. It highlighted his stubbornness. He was not incompetent. His job had him working with all kinds of shit that you didn’t even try to understand, so it’s not like he can’t work a smartphone. He just doesn’t want to.

It didn’t really matter. If anything, it was kind of cute. The way he fumbled with the buttons that were too small for his fingers. The loud chiming ringtone that he would grumble about yet never turn down. The sight of him trying to find the right distance to hold the phone away from his face so he could read the font. You had heart eyes on your first date when this man popped in a CD because he couldn’t use the aux with his flip phone. They were simple quirks, but they were just so endearing to you. You’d tease him about being outdated, and he’d put up with it cause it was you.

“Why do I need anything more? This thing can call you, and that’s all I really need,” he’d say with a teasing expression when you’d crack a joke.

You’d roll your eyes at the excessive charm, but you couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, but-”

And he’d cut you off with a kiss. “Trust me. I like it. It’s simple. Plus it’s like indestructible. But if I ever want an upgrade, you’ll be the first to know.”

The only time Leon ever considered ditching his trusty flip phone and upgrading to something more advanced was when you would send him nudes. Seeing the masterpiece that is your body reduced to a handful of pixels on the tiny screen drove him fucking wild. Upon hearing the chime of his phone and seeing the small image of you gracing his screen, he’d find a moment alone to try and see the details. He’d hold the phone two inches away from his face trying to make out every last curve. Days when he got those pictures ended with nights where you got fucked on every surface in the house.

He’d come home from work, his eyes full of lust before he even saw you. You’d glide into the room with a knowing smile on your face. You wanted him just as bad as he wanted you.

“Hi, baby. How was work?” you ask, feigning innocence. You close the distance between the two of you and wrap your arms around him.

“Oh, you care about my work now, huh?” he asks, a smirk creeping onto his face as his arms return your embrace, “Doesn’t seem like it when you send me those cute pictures during the day, distracting me, making me think about you when I should be focused.”

Your lips part and your eyebrows raise in mock offense. “I only send those to help you, motivate you,” you tease as your fingers coast along his biceps, “Maybe if you had a real phone they wouldn’t bother you so much. You’d be able to see everything clearly and not be left imagining.”

“I don’t need to stress about pictures though when I got the real thing waiting at home for me every night,” he purrs as he leans in and starts kissing you.

You return the kiss with the same level of passion, lips moving with his as the two of you stumble over to the couch. You fall back onto the cushions with Leon on top of you. His hands already roam your body and begin removing articles of clothing. He wasn’t in the mood to take his time after having that grainy image of you gnawing at his mind all day.

“Fuck, baby. Every time… I can never get enough,” he grunts as he yanks your top over your head and tosses it to the side. His hands rub up and down your sides, the rough pads of his fingers dragging over your sensitive skin and making you squirm. In no time though, they’re on your breasts. He kneads the plump flesh as his lips trail down to your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of saliva-coated skin in their wake.

He’s all over you all at once it seems. It’s overwhelming in the best way. You’re moaning and writhing on the couch, nearly trying to hump his leg while one of your hands tugs at his hair. You bite your lip and whimper as his lips move down over the swell of your chest.

He grabs your hips firmly and presses them down to the couch. His half-lidded eyes look up at you momentarily. “Quit squirming,” he breathes. He gives your chest a few more kisses while keeping his eyes locked with yours. “Need time with my pretty girl after I’ve been aching for her all day.”

You give a weak nod and focus on controlling your movements as he tugs your shorts off and drops them.

“Good girl,” he mutters before attaching his lips to one of your nipples and swirling his tongue around the peak. He hums in satisfaction as he feels the bud in his mouth. His fingers lazily stroke up and down your folds over your panties. He disconnects his mouth momentarily and looks up at you again with a smirk on his face.

“So wet already?” he teases, now being his turn to look smug, “You want me just as bad, don’t you? That’s why you send those pictures right? You’re missing Daddy while he’s at work?”

“Mhm, miss you so bad. It drives me crazy,” you say. A whimper escapes you as his fingers apply more pressure and his movements more strategically target your clit.

“I can tell. Makes you act like a little slut, huh?” he asks before he kisses down your stomach to the hem of your panties.

You feel your face getting hot at his comment, but you nod anyway. You bite your lip and keep your eyes locked with his.

He chuckles at your timid confirmation. “That’s ok, honey. Daddy’s here now. I’m gonna make sure you get all the attention you need. Can’t have my girl left wanting,” he says, pulling down your panties and putting them with your other discarded clothes.

He loops his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer so that you’re angled in a way he can reach you from his position on his knees. Your back is flat on the couch, and your legs are held over his shoulders. He doesn’t waste time, licking a stripe up your cunt and then delving his tongue inside of you.

Your head falls back onto the cushion in response. A moan escapes your throat at the sensation. Your sounds only increase in frequency and volume as he grips you tighter and fucks his tongue in and out of you. He watches you, relishing how he can pleasure you with so few touches. His tongue laps up your wetness and his mouth finds your clit again, sucking and flicking against the bundle of nerves just how you like.

His name and a variety of expletives leave your mouth while your hand slides into his hair and holds the blonde locks. Your hips twitch from the rising feelings of ecstasy in your tummy, but Leon’s hands keep you firmly in place. He devours you like a starved man, the hours of torture that little picture inflicted on him all paying off right now.

He’s skillfully swirling patterns onto your clit and occasionally exploring your insides. He knows you’re close because he can feel the way you’re pulsing and hear the way your moans and whines reach that slightly higher pitch. It only makes him work with more dedication.

“That’s right, sweetheart. C’mon, give it to Daddy. Let me taste it,” he grunts as he continues working you to the edge.

You cry out, your thighs quivering and your hips bucking as you succumb to release. You’re moaning with abandon, fingers clutching his hair as tight as possible. He groans into you from the sight in front of him.

You ride the high and he continues with his mouth throughout. When you reach the seeming conclusion, your chest is heaving and your limbs feel heavy, but Leon doesn’t stop. He continues on as if you were still on the way to your climax instead of coming down.

“Too much,” you whimper as your hips jerk and your hands make a weak attempt to push his head away, “Daddy, please.”

“Daddy, please?” he mocks with a laugh, “But this is what you wanted, babydoll. You wanted my attention, didn’t you?”

You whine, hips still squirming as your retort dies in your throat. It felt euphoric, it was just so much. This was what you wanted though.

“That’s what I thought,” he says before burying his face between your thighs again.

He continues eating you out until you’re an absolute mess. Your eyes are rolling back, nonstop whimpers fall from your lips, and your twitching thighs are clamped around Leon’s head. It was what he’d been wanting to see since he’d heard that chime in his back pocket.

“I’m gonna cum,” you slur. Your head felt cloudy from the numerous orgasms he’d brought you. A strangled cry tears through you as your body moves like it’s possessed. You convulse on the couch while his mouth makes you see stars for the umpteenth time.

Tears prick at your eyes from the intensity of your release, and finally, he starts easing off of you. He pulls your thighs off of his head and leans back. He wipes his chin that’s coated in your slick and licks his fingers. Seeing that alone has you clench around nothing which in turn spreads a smirk on his face.

“Good girl, baby,” he coos, planting a kiss on your inner thigh, “You did so well. I’m proud of you.”

He stands up from his knees, grunting as he gets to his feet and taking a moment to stretch. You can tell the extended amount of time in the position put some strain on him. Your lips curl into a small smile while adoration fills your hazy eyes.

“Your joints locking up on you, old man?” you tease with a quiet laugh.

“Don’t start,” he says, trying to sound stern, but you can see him suppressing his own smile, “Especially since I know you want more.”

That shuts you up because he’s right. He shakes his head and makes a mock sound of disappointment.

“I know you, baby. My dirty girl. Made you cum how many times, and you still want more,” he says. He begins stripping off his clothes into a pile next to yours. “My little whore would never turn down a chance to take my cock.”

Once his clothes are off, he languidly strokes himself a few times and climbs on top of you. He peppers some kisses on your face and starts to slide inside you. You were more than ready but still sensitive from the recent series of highs.

“Don’t worry, sweet girl. I’ll get you full of my cum in no time. Fuck all that neediness right out,” he murmurs into your ear, his breath on you sending chills down your spine.

You mewl and tighten around him in more ways than one. Your arms cling to his torso that hovers above you while your walls squeeze around him to take him deeper. He grunts and his head falls forward a little as he feels sparks of pleasure in his abdomen.

“There you go, angel. Taking me so perfect. My pretty girl. Made for me,” he says into your ear as he sinks into you completely.

You nod mindlessly, your head fogging up again as he fills you. He presses sloppy kisses to your neck as he starts pumping in and out. You’re both breathing heavily and allowing the pleasure to take over. One of your hands slides to his hair to rub his head while his hips snap against you.

He’s falling into the perfect rhythm with you, one that’s driving you both toward the goal line, when suddenly you hear a muffled guitar strum coming from the floor. Leon groans and you burst into laughter as you hear the ringtone you had set for him as a joke.

His movements get weaker as his focus is drawn elsewhere, but he doesn’t stop rocking his hips. He reaches down to the floor where his phone is ringing in the pocket of his crumpled pants. He fishes it out and shifts so he’s kneeling while drilling into you.

He holds the phone up and squints to read the tiny caller ID on the flip phone which makes you laugh harder through moans. He smirks at your laughter and clamps a hand over your mouth. “Shut up, I gotta take this,” he says teasingly.

He whips open the phone, the maneuver causing you to moan and squeeze around him again. He winces at the sensation, nearly unable to restrain himself from giving into his carnal urges to groan and slam into you harder.

Your eyes widen as he brings the phone to his ear without stopping his hips and in the most monotonous voice says “Kennedy here.”

It’s good that his hand is over your mouth to keep you quiet. The contrast of his movements and that voice have the sparks of pleasure igniting into flames in your belly. Seeing how he handles his dumbass flip phone so smoothly has your arousal nearly pooling on the couch.

He listens to the call while grinning at you struggling to keep yourself somewhat under control. “Uh-huh. Yeah. Sounds about right,” he drones as the person on the other end goes on and on.

His strokes are just as deep as before, nudging you in the perfect spots repeatedly. Your eyes roll back as you feel yourself getting near the peak. A soft whimper escapes you, loud enough to pierce the barrier of Leon’s hand. His hips sputter at the noise and his face contorts. He lets out a quiet grunt but quickly catches himself before losing it further.

“What? Yeah, I’m listening,” he says, his tone growing a little impatient, “Look, I’m just wrapped up in something right now. Could you not have just told me this before I left?”

You know he’s getting closer himself and struggling to hold back. You can tell from the way his jaw is clenched and his eyes are projecting his rising frustration he has for the person who made this call.

“Yes, I understand. I’ll deal with it tomorrow,” he says, effectively ending the conversation.

Then, to hang up, he doesn’t press a button. Instead, he flicks his wrist and shuts the flip phone with a clack.

You throw your head back against the couch cushion and a loud moan rips through your throat. You shudder as a wave of pleasure courses through you after witnessing something so unexplainably hot.

His eyebrows raise in amusement, noticing how much you enjoyed that. “Hmm, I’m not hearing any complaints about the phone now,” he says. He’s trying to tease, but his voice is husky with arousal. He maintains his grin as he drops the phone to the floor again and returns to his previous position which was closer to you.

“Careful, you’re gonna break it,” you whimper.

“Nah baby, I told you that thing is indestructible,” he breathes and starts pounding you into the couch mercilessly.

You bite your lip and resume clinging to him, your fingers digging into his back. You both are panting, expressions going lax as you focus on chasing the high.

“Daddy, ‘m gonna cum,” you mewl, unable to contain yourself for much longer.

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he says into your ear, his voice taking on more of a growl, “Daddy’s right there with you. You deserve it for being so good for me. Being nice and quiet while I was on the phone.”

As soon as you have permission, you give into another release. Your legs shake and your arms cling to him tighter as the euphoria shoots through you. You’re gasping for air and whining while squirming beneath him. Soon it’s just too much for Leon. He tightens his grip on you and slams deep before groaning and draining himself inside of you.

He rocks in and out a few more times before slowly pulling out. He then sits up on the couch and sinks back into the cushions. You follow by sitting up as well and curling up against his side. He pulls you into his lap, stroking your hair away from your face and kissing your forehead. The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while until he gazes down at you with a smug look in his eyes.

“I knew the flip phone was a turn-on,” he says, clearly pleased with himself.

You scoff. “It is not. It was just… it was the situation,” you defend.

“Sure, but you were tightest when I was messing with the phone,” he says knowingly.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

He laughs at your stubbornness and gives you another kiss. “You can admit it, baby. I won’t judge. Really, if you like it that much, maybe I’ll show you how strong it can vibrate later.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #resident evil imagines #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #smut

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lis-likes-fics · 4 months

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The Kinder Beast

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader Word Count: 13.3k words Warnings: NSFW, attempted sexual assault, groping, oral (m and f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, technically coercion, thus dub!con, virginity loss, p in v sex, creampie... A/N: I wrote like at least half of this in one night and then stopped to sleep and ruined my streak. This was supposed to be done like three days ago but I had a bit of a menty b for like...a full day and that didn't happen. Anyway, enjoy me (finally) getting around to writing for Aemond. Thanks! <3

He was always watching you.

Your skin crawled with the feeling of his gaze burning holes into your flesh. Always on you, always watching, daring to get you alone. You could never escape him.

You feel it at dinner as you pour cups of wine, one cup far more than the others. You feel it after dinner while you help the other servants to clean the table. Sometimes it is almost as though you can feel more than one gaze.

It haunts you.

Even as you're alone in the servants’ chambers where all the servants of the royal family slept after everyone has found sleep, you feel it. It's a horrifying thing, to feel so vulnerable so often.

You keep your head down at dinner, holding a pitcher of wine steady in your grasp and hoping against all hope that he would forget you were there. But the gods seemed to laugh at you and your naïve hopes.

“Aye,” he calls, raising his cup. “Serving girl.”

You lay your eyes on Prince Aegon, moving quickly as you cover the distance between you. Every inch demolished is an ounce of your bravery pouring down a drain until you are standing right by him.

You have to be careful tipping the pitcher, lest you spill the expensive drink all over his clothes, a hundred times more expensive than the wine. Though your fingers grip it tight and your palms shake the metal, you successfully manage your task with no issue.

It's as you're fixing the pitcher from its tilt when a greedy hand gropes the cheek of your ass. Your whole body jumps and you close your eyes, pretending all is well and that you are simply imagining the whole ordeal. You breathe in, straightening up and wishing he would let you go. Again, the gods seem to defy your every hope as Prince Aegon's hand begins to discreetly rub.

“Girl.”

Your gaze shoots across the table to an icy one unlike the greed in his brother's eyes. He watches you, his eye dark and his posture so full of poise and elegance—contrasting with Prince Aegon's jaded, dulled position beside you.

Prince Aemond raises his cup toward you, inclining his head back as he sends a gentler order. “More wine, please.”

You nod, keeping your gaze to the ground as you were meant to, and you make your way to his side. Prince Aegon's hand is forced to let go of you, and a weight is lifted off your shoulders—even if the heat of his hungry gaze bore holes into the back of your head that no amount of food or wine would satiate.

Prince Aemond sets his cup down, and you fill it. And when you've finished, he nods softly. “Thank you.”

For a split moment, your eyes meet. Prince Aemond's gaze is much more considerate than his brother's, but it is no less intense. His stare is dark, dangerous. He watches you, and he doesn't stop watching. Just as Prince Aegon never halts his scrutiny, neither does his brother's—at least when you're in the room. Prince Aemond, if nothing else, is kind enough not to stare when he's not in the room.

Prince Aegon never looks away.

You feel like a bird, a bird locked in a cage to be forced to sing, to be looked at and spectated until they lose interest and snap your neck to replace it with something better, something newer and prettier than a common songbird.

Sometimes you wish they would just go on and be done with it.

“You're welcome, my prince.” Your voice is small, a whisper. Though he seems kinder, the both of them scare you to death…one considerably more than the other.

Even now, your hands tremble, the clinking of the cups on the tray you carry echoing through the hollow walls. You take a steadying breath, willing your heart to calm as you assure yourself that you'll be fine.

The door you stand before is large, imposing. The room behind it is suffocating, it's dark and full of dangers that make you want to run. The idea of crossing this threshold into a world beholding so much danger and threat leaves you shaking. But you can't leave. How you wish you could leave…

You knock carefully to announce your presence before you push open the doors and hope for the best.

You take a step inside, glancing around anxiously. “My prince?” you call out as steadily as you can. Your body grows cold at the sight of him, lounging back in a chair with a cup in his hand.

Prince Aegon smiles devilishly at you, his eyes slightly sunken into his face, marked by exhaustion and drunkenness. “Ah,” he says, gesturing toward you with a coarse hand as you continue to walk further inside, keeping your head down. “She's brought my tea.”

The sound of a second voice washes over you in a sea of relief, and you briefly thank the gods for granting such rare mercy upon you. “It's a shame it shall go to waste,” he says. When you glance his way, the sight of Prince Aemond fills your gaze. His eye watches you as he sits back, and his gaze never wavers. “You and I both know you prefer your wines and ales.”

You walk to the table separating the brothers, setting the tray down. Just as you do, Prince Aegon rises to his feet, his cup in one hand as he walks over. You're nearly shaking, staring at the floor as you struggle to find your voice the closer he gets.

You have to clear your voice in order to speak. “Is- Is there anything else you need…my prince?”

He smiles, coming to stand at your side, his face so close to your cheek. You can hear the way he smells you, his sigh blowing against your shoulder. “Yes, there may be something you can help with…” You shudder, staring at the floor and refusing to look his way.

Without turning away from you, the prince speaks. “Dear brother, would you mind giving us some privacy?”

You close your eyes, willing the tears away as you try not to appear weaker than you already do. You flinch when you feel his knuckle brush your cheek.

Prince Aemond hums, clasping his hands in his lap. “But I'm quite comfortable here,” he says matter-of-factly.

You glance up at him, a glimmer of hope in your eyes as you look upon him. He's got the smallest grin on his face, but he doesn't even look at you. He watches his brother as his annoyed glare darts his way.

Prince Aegon looks like he'll fight his brother. His hand drops from your cheek. The breath you let out is silent. “Well, there are plenty of comfortable places in this castle, Aemond. Perhaps you might find yourself there instead.”

He shrugs. “But watch how well my boots fit perfectly when I place them here.” He lifts his feet, one after the other, to rest on the table near the tea tray. Again, he grins at his brother.

“Well, boots belong on the floor.”

“A shame for my feet, really. They do so enjoy a rest every once in a while.”

Prince Aegon's frustration is clear. He rolls his eyes and looks at you, a glimmer in his eyes that frightens you. He lowers his voice to a murmur. “Then perhaps you and I can go somewhere a little more private to…speak.”

You open your mouth to say something—you don't know what, likely just incoherent stammers of little value. Prince Aemond, it seems, is your ultimate savior.

“Unfortunately,” he interrupts, “that is not possible either. You see, she is busy.”

You both look at him to elaborate. Prince Aegon glances around the messy room and shakes his head. “I don't see a job needing tending to.”

You could name a few, but you really just want to leave.

Prince Aemond is unfazed. “I do,” he counters. He looks at you. His gaze betrays no sentiment, simply focus and a bit of amusement at frustrating his brother. “Girl, you are to take His Highness’ boots over there and shine them until they are brighter than the sun.” He tilts his head. “We can't have the prince walking around with dirty boots… Do you understand?”

You nod quickly, standing a little straighter. “Yes, my prince.”

He nods. “And they are especially disgusting, you might acquire some help while you do.”

You don't know why he is helping you, but who are you to question him when he is being so kind?

“Yes, my prince.”

He turns away from you then, reaching forward to grab a cup of tea from the tray. As he stirs it, he hums. “Make haste then.”

You move quickly, nodding as you break away from Prince Aegon's presence. He huffs, rolling his eyes as he watches his brother. You snatch up the boots, stopping by the door as you leave the both of them, not daring to look either in the eye. “My prince… my prince.”

You flee, and the door closes loudly behind you as you do. Aegon turns to his brother, shaking his head as he moves to sit once more. “My boots are not disgusting.”

Aemond hums. “You haven't seen your boots.”

The sound of fire and laughter and music fills the air. It's dark out, so dark it would be hard to see without the giant bonfire raging at the center. It's the most fun you've had in a while. Queen Alicent released you and a few of the other servants from duty for the night to enjoy the festivities as gratitude for hard work.

“Come on! You're no fun when you do not join the dance!” Emalia urges, pulling lightly on your arm so you would come with her and the others.

You lean back on your heels, laughing as you shake your head and balance your cup in your hand. “No! I do not need to make a fool of myself in front of the whole dynasty by tripping over my feet and falling flat on my face, Emailia.”

She rolls her eyes. “Please! Nobody is watching you.”

You wish that had been true.

“Besides,” she smirks at you slyly. “You may attract a man's eye.”

“All the more reason not to go.” She groans, unimpressed by your insistence of remaining a total bore. You smile, letting her go. “Go dance. I am perfectly content to stand here and watch.”

She hums, giving up as she turns on her heel to leave. You laugh lightly to yourself. As you cradle your cup in your hand, you raise it to your lips for a drink.

You'd been alone for no more than a minute, watching people holding hands as they danced around the roaring flames, before you had, in fact, caught a man's eye.

“Don't you look pretty tonight?”

You fumble your cup as it falls to the ground, spilling its contents over the dirt. Chills rush down your spine, devouring every slip of comfort in your body and leaving you cold. You keep your eyes down, staring at the wine in your cup as you try to find your voice buried in your distress.

His voice comes from behind you, a dark hum haunting your being. You try to keep your voice level, but it's hard when your entire body feels like it's shaking. “Th-Thank you, my prince,” you croak, your voice as quiet as can be.

Prince Aegon stands so close, you feel his body brush yours. You try not to tremble, but it's a useless task. His eyes bore into the side of your face, and you feel the heat of his gaze devouring the rest of you.

“So pretty, I just want to…steal you away.” He steps closer, his lips right by your ear as he whispers in a low voice, “Would you like that? For me to steal you away from here?” You squeeze your eyes shut, attempting to remain calm. “We could do anything, just the two of us.”

You swallow thickly, plastering a wobbly smile on your face. “I'm sure it would be…a lovely opportunity my prince, but..” You open your eyes again and take the smallest step away, turning slowly toward him. He steps even closer, hardly a foot away now. “But, um, I have to stay here with my friends… They'll be missing me if I go.”

Foolishly hoping to the gods that they hear your plea, you're met with the sight of his dark gaze. Your breath hitches as you take a step back. He pursues, shrugging lightly as he tilts his head.

“Or I could order you,” he says. “If I say you must go, then they cannot argue. I am the prince, after all.” He smirks, lifting his hand to touch your cheek. You flinch, but it only makes him chuckle. “Would you like me to order you, pretty girl? To take that burden off your shoulders?”

The way he says it… “pretty girl”. It makes your skin crawl. You wish you'd just gone and danced, or never shown up at all.

Your mouth opens, but words are very hard to find as you struggle to speak. “I…”

You can't refuse him. You can't send him away and tell him that the thought of his hands on you makes you want to vomit. You could be punished, killed. There's no version of this where you come out safely.

His gaze burns into your skin. His hand raises to pinch your chin, and his thumb ghosts over your bottom lip. As you struggle to find an answer, to find a way out of this very dangerous situation, Aegon feels another gaze upon his own skin.

He turns his head, his eyes searching for the object of his sudden unease.

A frown overtakes his lips as his glare locks onto another. For a moment, he keeps staring. It's a silent battle of wits, a battle of will. He should be able to have whatever he wants. He's the fucking Targaryen prince, and what he wants is your bound-to-be-virgin cunt wrapped around his cock. He is owed whatever he desires.

But this icy glare is one he cannot withstand. With a huff, he drops his hand from your face. You hold your breath, glancing up carefully to see what has changed.

“But alas,” he mumbles. “It seems my mother is calling me.”

The shock is written all over your face, a mix of fear and surprise that has his desire for you growing in his belly. He smirks again, taking one last step into whatever space you had left as he takes your hand.

You purse your lips as he eyes bore into yours. Prince Aegon raises your knuckles to his face, slotting his nose over them as he inhales your sweet scent. You shudder as he presses his lips to the round bumps of your hand. You jump when he nips them.

His eyes peek up at you as he grins. “I will be seeing you.” He drops your hand.

You swallow thickly as he takes a couple steps back. Tentatively taking your skirts in your hands, you curtsy. “My prince.”

He hums, and then he's gone. You stare after him, letting out a relieved breath as you come back to your senses. You bend slowly, retrieving your cup from the ground as you try to catch your breath.

When you rise to your feet, your gaze is caught by that of the prince across the field from you. He flickers at the other side of the bonfire, his gaze just as hot and just as burning as the fire itself.

He stands there and stares at you a few seconds more. Then, just like his brother, he disappears into the night.

You're left standing there, frightened to the very base of your being.

Quite frankly, you despise the training grounds.

It's dirty and full of spectators eager to drink in the sight of sparring princes. It even rained earlier that night, so you are left to stand in the filthy mud, holding a tray of water in your hands and waiting for the imminent end of this session.

They always train so early. Sure, you would have been awake either way, but your sleepiness mixed with the anxiety of the princes (mostly Prince Aegon) is not a good mix.

He keeps looking at you.

Prince Aegon's eyes follow you when he's not on an active attack. You do your best to keep your eyes on the wine, hoping it would keep his gaze from you. But it's hard to do so when the lingering heat of his watchful eye burns you from out to in.

You can't tell if you're grateful or not for Prince Aemond's seriosity in his training. On one hand, his hard focus on his opponent means he's not watching you. But on the other…that means Prince Aegon is not too inclined to keep his eyes forward.

You feel your arms growing tired the longer you stand there. With a sigh, you turn toward a table behind you, setting the tray down to offer your arms reprieve. You linger for a moment, closing your eyes to breathe before switching out the two pitchers of water to seem busy.

When you turn again, you nearly drop the tray onto the ground. The smallest yelp erupts from your throat as you're met with Prince Aegon's dark stare.

“Forgive me, my prince,” you nearly stutter.

He hums, grinning lightly. “That's alright.”

You duck your head a little, balancing the tray in one hand and refilling his cup with the other. You pass it carefully to him.

“Many thanks.”

You give a short nod. “You're welcome, prince.”

He watches you over the top of his cup as he takes generous sips. He never looks away. It’s awful, being forced to see. You look away from his intense eyes, finding it increasingly difficult to do what he wants. But this works for him either way. He loves to see you cower…

Prince Aegon sets the cup back on the tray. Not anticipating the action, your weak grasp tilts and sends the tray askew. The cup tips off the side, and your eyes widen in panic as you watch it spill its contents all over the front of his gear.

A terrible gasp rips from your throat at the sight of it, Prince Aegon's gear drenched in water, his cup on the muddy ground, you standing there unable to figure out what to do other than grovel at his feet.

The words stumble uncontrollably from your lips, drenched in utter terror at his response. “Oh, gods! I am so sorry. That was an accident. I didn't mean to–!”

But Prince Aegon is not angry. In fact, he's amused. He chuckles to silence you. “Come now, pretty girl. No need for that.”

You stare up at him, your eyes clouded by unshed tears invoked by such sudden fear. He takes a step closer, in permanent violation of the space you have to your person. His voice is a low murmur when he speaks. “You and I can sort this out. Just the two of us… in my chambers… tonight.” He tilts his head. “What do you say?”

You freeze, staring wide-eyed at the prince as you struggle to find a way to get out of this. You can't refuse him, you can't. But he isn't going to let you go. How are you meant to shed this man from your life? He has implemented himself and ensured there was no way to escape him, not without force.

Your mouth drops open but no words come out. But, as it seems to be like clockwork, temporary salvation settles over you.

“My prince!”

You both turn your head, laying eyes on Ser Criston Cole as he holds onto Prince Aegon’s training sword. He offers it to him. “Leave the poor girl alone, and come fight your brother.”

Prince Aegon rolls his eyes, swatting a dismissive hand at his knight as he turns back to you. His smirk returns, if only for a moment. “Will I see you again?” he wonders.

“Prince Aegon!” He grunts. “Leisure is the death of men.”

“I’m coming!”

He looks back at you, setting his frustration to the side for just a moment. You’re always interrupted, there’s always something requiring attention. But not tonight. No, tonight…he would have what he wants.

He tears his gaze away to stalk back toward his knight and his brother. Ser Criston hands him his sword. Your eyes shift, and you find Prince Aemond…just as you always seem to do.

He watches you—just for a single second. A single second that always seems to last so much longer. He takes you in before blinking away, as though he’d never laid his eye on you to begin with.

You duck your head and try to forget the whole thing.

You duck your head and pray to the gods that Prince Aegon will forget the whole thing…

“Girl.”

You close your eyes as you stop walking, planting your feet in the middle of the dimly lit hall. You hold your breath as you turn, bowing your head and properly addressing the man with a curtsey, a basket of sheets in hand. “My prince.”

Prince Aegon’s eyes are nearly as dark as the night surrounding the castle. They always seem so…consuming. Consuming in a way that begs for breath in depleted lungs. Consuming in a way that cries out for an end to the constant burning of eternal fire. You stare at the floor.

He crosses the space between you before he speaks. “I didn’t see you in my chambers.” He stands right in front of you now, generous with the couple of feet he distances you with—though he does not have much of a choice with the way you hold the basket between you.

You had hoped you’d been sly with your avoidance the night before. After he was dressed for dinner, you made quick work of tidying his chambers before you went to attend with the other servants to watch over the small feast with the royals. When he returned to his rooms, there was nothing else for you to do… You had no other reason to return, so you did not.

You had hoped he’d missed it.

You clear your throat. “I’m sorry, my prince.”

“What kept you?” He steps forward, always stepping forward.

“My, um–” You struggle to come up with an answer quickly enough. “My-my errands. I was caught up with…with dinner.”

He tilts his head, not quite believing you as he continues his agonizingly slow advance. You find some solace, however, in his snail’s pace. It means every tiny little step you take away goes slightly unnoticed as you move to keep some distance between you and the prince.

“Well, dinner is over, and I require your assistance,” he insists. He raises his hands and takes the basket in his own hands. You try to keep your breath steady, but you’re hot with fear and anxiety. “I am your superior, am I not? You must obey me, and I say that you…” he takes your basket and drops it onto the ground without regard, walking farther past it, “...must come with me. We have a few wrongs we must right.”

When the cold feeling of the wall shoots up your spine, you’re frozen with fear. You nearly choke on your words, you struggle to even breathe correctly as you look around frantically for any sign of help. But it is so late, the castle is sleeping and any other servants awake at this time of night are preoccupied with their own tasks. Even if someone was awake, clouds cover every inch of the sky, and no one wishes to be bothered with the potential of rain in the open halls.

No one is going to help you.

“Forgive me, prince, but…” Your pulse is loud in your ear, you can hardly hear your words over it. You swallow thickly, speaking around your stutter, “I have… I have other duties.”

He’s getting frustrated now. He’s been denied you so many times now, too many times. You don’t expect him to display much patience anymore as he stands so close that your shoes touch and your arms are pinned to your chest. You can feel his breath on your face, thick with the permanent smell of wines and ales. His height over you is commanding, and you may just start crying before anything is done.

He speaks quietly, low. It’s a threat in the disguise of a reminder, and it hurts more than a slap to the face. “Your only duties, pretty girl, are to me.” He shakes his head gently. “I will not ask you again.”

His hands find your hips, and your whole body flinches at his touch. The smallest yelp drops from your mouth as you squeeze your eyes shut. You’re shaking. You don’t actually realize it—there’s too much happening at one time—but you’re shaking. It feeds Prince Aegon’s hunger.

You force your eyes open, force yourself to look him in the eye as you shake your head.

“I don’t want to.”

He tuts gently, shaking his head as a terrible grin takes his lips. He even chuckles, it’s the faintest sound but it’s a chuckle and it shakes your soul. “Such a pity,” he hums. He tilts his chin down and whispers. “You don’t have a choice.”

One of his hands raises to grasp your face, but you swat it away. Surprised by your protest, something flickers in his eyes, and you know you’ve made a mistake beyond hitting a prince. He tries again, faster this time, but you’re so full of adrenaline that you’re faster. You keep smacking his hands away, squirming vastly as you try to shed his hands from you. When he does not relent, for even a moment, pressing his hips into you just to pin you into the wall, you do the unspeakable.

You slap him. Your palm meets his cheek with a force that whips his head to the sound, and you pale as you watch his skin turn pink.

The most dangerous smirk crosses his lips. He finds great pleasure in your fight. It’s the first real fight you’ve put up since the beginning of his conquest. It’s exciting, it’s thrilling. His blood pumps at the prospect of a hunt.

He turns back to you slowly, watching you with eyes that have become so much darker. They’re like black tar, an oozing kind of look that melds into your skin and leaves you feeling like you’re going to die. Maybe you will.

His hands grab you so tightly that you can’t possibly move him away. You fight anyway, flailing your arms and legs and trying to call out for anyone to help. You know your sounds are echoing, you can hear your shouts bouncing off the walls and filling the night… But part of you knows that no one will come to help.

Even if they can hear you past the thick walls, no one will come to help you.

Because he’s the prince, and you are just a servant girl. What are you to keeping their lives?

Prince Aegon wrestles you to the ground and lays you on your back, despite your protests, despite your resistance. He forces you to the ground, takes your wrists in his hands, laughs when the tears spill. You argue for him to stop, to let you go, to leave you be. You hope and pray and beg for him to listen. You curse the gods for their cruelty—you curse the Mother for her lies.

He gathers your wrists to one hand, and you think you’ll be sick when his hand gropes your breast so roughly that it hurts. “I knew you would be fun, pretty girl.” He laughs, high off the thrill. “I’ve waited so long for this, it’s only fitting we make it last–”

A harsh grunt leaves his throat when your foot finds purchase at his leg. Using all the strength you have, you manage to land a kick. His hands loosen considerably, enough for you to yank yourself from his hold. Just to give yourself more time, you kick again. This time, you manage to find purchase at his side. A string of curses falls from his lips, but you don’t have time to listen to them.

As soon as you’re free, you stand to your feet and bolt down the hall. You don’t know if you’ve ever been faster, the way you speed through the corridors. Your heart thunders in your ears, your tears tickle your face, your breath scratches your throat. But you can hear him behind you.

It’s a stalking sound. That kind of sound that tells you he doesn’t waste strength trying to run after you. His pursuit is taunting, it’s haunting. It forces more sobs from you, and it makes it hard to see past the tears gathering in your eyes. You look behind yourself. It feels like he’s right there–

You run into something solid. Knocked to the ground, you grunt at the pain that blooms along your body at the fall. You open your eyes and look up to see what’s stopped your escape, and you feel a sudden wave of relief. It’s not a gaze that especially calms your nerves, but it’s enough to know that you might actually have a chance at safety.

“Prince Aemond!” you cry, moving to kneel before him as you duck your head. You stumble over your words, it’s so hard to speak past the fear, the pain in your throat, all of it. You do your best. “I-I’m sorry, you… Your brother, he’s chasing me and he-he’s trying to, to hurt me, and I–”

There’s no use in trying to speak coherently anymore. You break down into sobs, sobs full of broken rambles that are fueled by the emotions demolishing you. You look truly pathetic like this, you know you do—covered in tears, your lip wobbling, your chest heaving with desperate breaths.

Prince Aemond looks upon you, his face a mask of almost indifference. There’s a spark of something in his eyes that you can’t quite place. But, quite frankly, you don’t care. As long as he helps you. He’s been helping you all this time, surely he won’t turn his back now when you truly need him.

You don’t know what possesses you to grab his hand. You’re just glad he doesn’t seem upset when you do it. You hope he understands you when you beg, “Please don’t let him touch me, please!”

His taunting footsteps re-enter your mind as they come to a stop somewhere behind you. Your blood runs cold when you hear him.

“Brother.”

You startle, genuinely yelping when you scramble to your feet and rush to stand behind Prince Aemond, putting him between you and his brother and using him as your shield. To your sweet relief, the prince puts his hand out and holds your arm, keeping you behind him. Keeping you under his protection. You let out a shuddering sigh.

“Aegon,” he returns, his voice calm and measured. His gaze is unyielding, as it always is. You just hope that, as it always is, Prince Aegon is no match for it. “Are you tormenting this poor girl again?”

He laughs. “Tormenting? Heavens no. We’re just having a bit of fun,” his gaze shifts to you, “aren’t we?”

You press yourself more into Prince Aemond, hiding as best you can.

Prince Aegon can’t decide if he’s amused or annoyed. “And even if I was, the little thing put her hands on me.” He raises his brows. “These things can’t go unpunished.”

It’s silent for a moment as Prince Aemond contemplates something. He glances over his shoulder, not quite looking at you as he questions. “Is this true?”

You swallow thickly. You can’t lie. It’s the prince’s word against yours, and you did put your hands on him… If anyone finds out, you could—would be killed. Your voice wavers as you confess timidly. “Yes, my prince.”

Prince Aegon smiles. “You see? She admits it.” He takes a step forward. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

Terror grips you. “No–!”

“Step away, brother.”

He stops in his tracks, staring at his brother with a furrowed brow. Unimpressed by his jest, he gives an empty laugh. “Excuse me?”

Prince Aemond tilts his head, raising a brow. “I do not believe a stutter passed my lips.” His hand lands on the hilt of his blade, a warning. “I said step away.”

Prince Aegon’s lips curl in a sneer, but his eyes…his eyes hold a predatory gaze that make you feel like you’re already trapped in the beast’s maw. “She’s my servant girl. I can do as I please. Give her to me now.”

He remains unfazed. “I do not believe I will be doing that.”

“Get out of my fucking way, Aemond.” He advances, his eyes on you as he comes forward to take what is rightfully his. You begin to protest, scared sobs falling from your lips as you panic.

But Prince Aemond takes his own step forward, but his gaze is much harder, and his determination is much more dangerous. “Touch her and we shall both be half blind, brother.” His threat is level and true, and you feel yourself alighting with more fear at the sound of it. He tilts his head. “Now run along. I’m sure you’ve got a pillar to milk.”

Rage covers every inch of Prince Aegon’s face. He huffs as he shakes his head, moving to cover the distance. “You fucking–”

Everything seems to go completely still for a moment. The air is stagnant and all breath ceases when Prince Aemond raises his blade to his brother’s face, the sharpest end only inches from his blue eye.

But Prince Aemond remains unfazed. His gaze is piercing, his posture is strong. His voice is low and level.

“Do it.”

They stare at one another, another silent standoff. You’re still holding your breath.

Prince Aegon’s lips curl into a smirk. A chuckle slips past his lips as he takes a step back. He yields.

“Well played, brother.” He sucks on a tooth, turning his dark gaze to you as his eyes glitter with apparent amusement. You’d hoped you were turning out to be more trouble than you’re worth, but the only thing you’ve achieved tonight was sweetening the prize. “Don’t worry, pretty girl… I will be seeing you soon.”

He spares one last glance at his brother before turning on his heel and walking away. Prince Aemond relaxes a bit, letting his blade return to its holster as he sighs gently. When the other prince has fully retreated, he hums.

“Come with me.”

He turns and walks down the hall. It takes you a moment to catch up as the adrenaline begins, slowly, to fade, replacing itself with an immense amount of exhaustion. You turn and walk after him, wiping your face to try to rid yourself of the tears that had begun to dry.

You follow him down the winding corridors until you eventually end up on the familiar path of his bedchambers. When you arrive, he opens the doors without a word. It’s implied that you follow, so you do. He closes the doors behind you, and you slowly come to stand in the room, feeling so awkward here. It’s so late, surely you need to leave and try to retire for the night, put this whole thing behind you for a few hours.

Your voice is timid, your fingers hesitant as you rub at your face. “Are you sure I should be here?”

The prince walks past you, trailing to a table where a bowl of now-cold water and a cloth sit. “You can be wherever I say you can be,” he says dismissively. As he wets the cloth, he beckons you closer. You have to urge your legs to move, dragging yourself over to sit in the chair he is gesturing for you to take. You don’t look at him, anxiety still whispering in your bones.

“Are you hurt?” he asks as he tilts your chin up, beginning to carefully wipe away the tears that have covered your face.

It feels strange, but…nice. It’s nice to be taken care of. You’re too drained and too quieted to wonder why you’re being taken care of. You just want to calm down.

“No,” you mumble, sighing to calm your nerves. “Thank you.”

He continues to dab at your face. “Don’t thank me yet.”

You furrow your brows, looking up as you lock eyes. He’s…sort of pretty. You hadn’t really had the time or the mind to notice it before, but you don’t intend to make a habit of noticing. Once this night is over, you intend to forget it all.

“Beg pardon?” you wonder.

He stops what he’s doing, setting the cloth back in its bowl. Looking back at you, he tilts his head. His voice does not change. “You laid your hands on the prince.”

Just like that, the fear and anxiety return. You’re already tongue-tied as you try to defend yourself. “He was trying to hurt me–”

“It does not matter,” he says, as though it means nothing. And it does. He shrugs as he continues to watch you. “My brother has a reputation but he is the prince, and you are just a girl.” He hooks his knuckle under your chin, tilting your head to look up at him a little more. “Who do you think they will believe?”

Your breath picks up once more, a heavy thing in your chest that makes you feel like you may faint. You wet your lips, shaking your head. “It was an accident. I was scared, a-and I panicked. I–”

“It is not I who questions your words,” he hums. “It will be the public’s when they learn you tried to seduce the prince.”

Your heart pounds so heavily in your chest. You swear you can hear each thump against your ribs. “But I didn’t–” You pause at the look on his face. It is not him who questions your words. You swallow thickly, looking down at your hands clasped in your lap as you try to gather your thoughts. Your voice is so quiet when you speak again, weak with your defeat. “What am I to do?”

He seems pleased that you have begun to ask the right questions. He pulls away from you, removing his holster from around his waist to set his weapons down. “Even if he says nothing, you are still his servant, and I cannot be there at every turn to help you.” He looks at you once more, his eye unwavering. “One way or another, he will have his way with you… and no one will care when they hear your screams down the hall.”

You duck your head, fiddling with your hands as these terrible feelings eat away at you. But then he speaks again, carrying words that have you glued to his every sound. “There is a way, of course, that I can help you.”

You sigh. “I’ll do anything.”

The slightest smirk curves his lips. He walks back toward you, his steps so slow, so measured. Every step he takes fills you with a strange kind of dread. His voice is so soft, the opposite of the fear-inducing sound of Prince Aegon’s.

“My brother will care less about you if you are…” he raises his hand to the top latch of his garb, undoing it slowly, “...already sullied.”

Your eyes widen as you watch him unlatch each metal piece with a clink, clink clink. A shivering heat courses through your veins, the kind of heat that has your body covered in gooseflesh. A million thoughts rush within your mind, but you haven’t the slightest clue what any of them are saying.

Had he been any other boy from in King’s Landing—a peasant from Flea Bottom, a servant in the Red Keep, a merchant from Cobbler’s Square—you would have watched with bated breath, accepted his proposal with a shy grin, fingers shaking only with the anticipation of a night of pleasure. Had he been anyone else, you might have considered sharing the night, knowing and accepting that you’d likely have to take his hand to avoid the shallow slanders of society.

But he is not a merchant from Cobbler’s Square, or a servant in the Red Keep, and he most certainly is not a peasant from Flea Bottom. He is Prince Aemond Targaryen, the son of Queen Alicent and King Viserys I, the rider of Vaghar, the second largest dragon in the world.

You cannot do this and come out unburnt.

Your throat is dry as you try to shake your head. “I-I can’t.” You stumble over your words uselessly. “I’m— You’re— We–”

He hums. “I can just tell them that you attacked the prince.” Fear strikes your head like a chord. “Of course, you would lose a hand…if not your life.”

A tear slips down your cheek to replace the old ones. “Please, my prince–”

“There’s only one way to solve this,” he says, walking toward you once more so that you’re forced to look up at him. He’s taller than Prince Aegon, and his gaze can be just as dark. “I can give you back to the beast, who will maul until he gets what he wants…” Your eyes close, trying to force the memory from your mind. He tilts his head and waits for you to look at him again.

“Or I can ruin you for him.” His proposal sends an unwanted shiver down your spine. You audibly sigh at his suggestion. “Then he shall no longer have interest in you.”

The gods have a strange sense of humor. Every time you suppose they’ve answered your prayers, they offer an alternative that you fight to determine better or worse. No win can ever simply be a win, no salvation can ever simply be salvation. It seems even now…that you’ve traded one beast for another. Now you’re forced to choose between the lesser of two evils.

Your throat is dry. You have to clear it in order to find words to speak, timid words that find a lot of difficulty in breeching your lips. You look up at him, your eyes wet.

“He won’t want me anymore?” You wipe at your eyes, trying to dry your constant tears. “You’ll…” You clear your throat. “You’ll protect me?”

Prince Aemond watches you closely, his gaze betraying no hesitance. He raises a hand to your cheek, brushing his thumb under your eye line to rid yourself of your tears. “You have my word,” he nearly whispers.

You look down at your hands, steeling your nerves as you squeeze your eyes shut.

It’s one night. Then you shall be free from the torment of the eldest Targaryen prince. Your troubles shall be put in the past. Just one night…then all will be well.

You just pray this beast is kinder.

You slowly rise to your feet, your fingers almost lethargic in their movements as you hold your breath. He's taller than his brother, just by an inch or two. It's enough that you have to crane your neck even more to look up at him. It has a strange effect on you, one that makes you even shier than you were two moments ago.

You sheepishly raise a hand to your shoulder, pushing your apron off until your arms are free from it. Letting your breath free, you release your arm from the sleeve next. It takes forever, it feels like, to shed yourself of your clothes. But when you’re bare before him, you can’t help but to cover yourself with your arms, trying to preserve what little ounce of dignity you have left.

But there’s no use in it now. He raises hand, slowly so as not to scare you, and touches your waist. You nearly shudder at the feeling, so foreign to you. He drinks in the sight of you, feasting on your body in gentle praise. You drop your arms, allowing him to see all of you.

“My brother was right about one thing,” he hums, licking his bottom lip between his teeth. “You are a pretty girl.”

It feels so different when he says it. It shouldn’t. His actions are almost as selfish as his brother’s, though at least you gain something from your nearing fate. But those words on his lips, they caress you. They send shivers down your spine and offer the smallest salve to the raging nerves preventing you from being calm.

You struggle to find your voice, not yet able to meet his eyes.

“I…” you sigh in an attempt to steady your nerves. “I am at your…your full service, my prince.”

One of his hands continues to rest at your hip, holding you close as his palm strokes your skin. You sigh, your eyes fluttering shut. It just…it feels so nice. It’s so hard to resist a touch as nice as this one. His other hand reaches up to cup your cheek, and you’re forced to open your eyes to meet his gaze.

He brushes the apple of your cheek, staring into your eyes. His words have your blood rushing, your breath becoming thin. “Have you ever had your lips around a cock before?”

Your eyes flutter at the question as you shake your head. “N-No.”

“Someone’s mouth on your cunt?”

Your throat is so dry, you keep having to swallow. “No, my prince.”

He hums. You can’t tell if he sounds pleased or not. “I suppose you’ve done nothing.”

“Never.”

His thumb strokes your cheek again. You lean absently into his touch. “That’s alright,” he says. He lets go of you to shrug the top layer of his clothes off, leaving him in his tunic and trousers. It’s already such a forbidden sight, heat rushes to your cheeks at a glimpse of it—as though you were not already standing bare before him. “I shall teach you.”

When his lips meet yours, you gasp against his mouth as your head begins to spin. You’re so startled by the sudden movement, it takes you a moment to actually realize what’s happened, let alone for you to gather the sense to kiss him back. His hand wraps around the back of your head to bring you closer, and a whining sound comes out of you when you feel his tongue slipping into your mouth.

This whole thing is so foreign to you, so forbidden and exciting and terrifying. Your breath shudders against his lips, and he feeds off your apprehension. He steps forward into you, and you nearly stumble back in an effort to keep up. You’re forced to stop your backpedal when the hard wood of the table digs roughly into your back.

Your stomach churns with a feeling unfamiliar to you, and you lean into it because you have nowhere else to lean. Aemond’s hands hold you tightly, his lips never relent as they suckle around yours. The tingling in your body has become so strong, your legs feel like they’re trembling, like your knees will give out any moment now.

When he pulls away from you, your breaths mingle in the short amount of space between you. They’re thick with whatever it is you’re feeling, this all-consuming lust that leaves you dizzy and wanting. You’re still so close, your lips brush against one another in a silent, teasing chase.

And you know you’ve passed the point of no return when you capture his lips once again, sighing into his mouth and delving into the desire driving you. You’re losing breath and your legs are becoming less and less capable of keeping you up, but you don’t care. You just need to keep tasting him, his lips, his tongue.

You reach for his tunic, pulling the fabric from his trousers and slipping your hands underneath it to feel the strength in his belly. He’s soft, smooth, but you can feel his muscles flexing against your touch. Aemond is the one who pulls away, panting heavily as he watches you. A smirk curves his lips and leaves you weak. You watch him take a small step back, lifting his shirt over his head and discarding it carelessly on the floor. You’re drunk on the sight of him, your lashes fluttering as you drive your teeth into your bottom lip.

When he pulls at his belt, you don’t know what to do. You just stand there, watching his deft hands as they begin to unbuckle it, pulling it from its proper place with a grand sweep. It drops heavily to the floor, and his trousers soon follow.

You hold your breath, staring at the erection between his legs. He’s long and flushed pink. You don’t know what to do, how to react. As you both stand naked before one another, the only thing you can really think to do is drink the other in.

Aemond interrupts your thoughts as he grabs your face again, smashing his lips against yours. You whine again, your tentative hands grazing his sides with a hesitant appreciation. He keeps kissing you as he moves, and you’re too distracted with the way his mouth feels against yours to do much else but stumble after him.

You’re forced to part when he sits down, his hands falling to your hips as he grips them tightly. “Get on your knees for me, pretty girl.”

The words wash over you with a shudder. You know that saying that is a show of power, a flaunt. He stole you from his tyrannical brother, and now you fall apart at the sound of the same name he’d been calling you. With no choice but to obey—both from obligation and a crumbling will—you do as he says as you slowly sink down to your knees.

You stare up at him, your eyes glittering, your lips parted. Aemond takes a moment, admiring the view before him with a sigh and the shake of his head. He thinks you look simply…perfect like this, awaiting his instruction with such an innocence about you.

“I want you to lick it,” he says simply.

You flush, feeling the heat burning in your face, feeling your core pulsing with a sudden desire. Your lips open and close, trying to figure out how to respond. You don’t know how.

Aemond wraps a hand around the back of your head, his fingers weaving their way through your hair. Slowly, he pulls you in until your nose nudges his cock. You sigh, the warm breath fanning over him and making him twitch. Swallowing thickly, you steel your nerves as you timidly let your tongue slip past your lips. Closing your eyes, you do as you’re told and you lick it.

He has an interesting taste, a salty kind filled with a heady scent that invades your senses. Your mind is clouded by lust, your fingers tremble. He closes his eye as he sighs. “Good, just like that. Do it again.”

You lean into the gentle praise, becoming a little braver as you continue to lave your tongue along the underside of his cock. It’s not hard to become addicted to it, his taste, his smell. It’s like you’ve been doused in a potion, one that intoxicates you with the strong scent of him.

You let his sighs guide you as your tongue presses against the vein running up his solid cock. He’s hard, and it’s daunting that he feels so stone-like. You take the initiative as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, suckling gently around it as you swirl your tongue along the slit.

Aemond’s lips part, and he opens his eye to look at you again. “Good,” he says. “Very good. Suck harder.”

You do, rewarded with a gentle grunt that sends shivers all throughout your body. His hand flexes in your hair, and your breath hitches slightly when he pushes you an inch further onto his cock. Adjusting your mouth, you move to take him deeper, sucking him down however you can. Then, just as he’d pushed you down, he guides you back up. Following his lead, you move on your own, moving up and down and up down until you’ve built a steady rhythm.

“Good girl,” he breathes, this kind of hum that is far more rewarding than you would have thought. You follow his sounds, bobbing your head up and down his shaft with a growing enthusiasm. “Give me your hand.” He holds out his own for yours to take, and you do, pulling off of him with a sigh.

He guides your hand to his cock, wrapping your fingers around the base of him. His hand consumes yours as he covers it, squeezing it tight until a groan falls from his lips. He moves it up and down, setting your rhythm, up and down, just like before, up and down.

His hand guides you back down and you take him back into your mouth. You hear the faintest “fuck” breach his lips, and a light feeling floods your system. You must be doing it right. Another “good girl” falls from his lips, and you melt.

You build up some speed, squeezing hard and sucking harder to give him the pleasure he needs. Your jaw and your neck aches, but you’re too caught up in the way his moans sound to care. Your throat catches on a gag when you go too deep, and you gasp on your way up, pausing for a moment to adjust before you take him again.

You feel Aemond’s hips beginning to twitch, rising off the seat a bit as he seeks the warmth of your mouth. When they buck up into you, forcing a gag to erupt out of you, your other hand shoots up to hold him still, nearly panicking when he does. “Yes,” he huffs. “You’re doing so well, pretty girl.”

A whimper leaves your throat, and his breath hitches. As your hand jerks at his cock, he grips your hair and pulls you off of him with a grunt. Your tongue lolls from your mouth, and you have to catch your breath as fresh invades your lungs. His next curse is much clearer as his chest rises and falls with his desire.

“Fuck,” he huffs. His gaze finds you, and he smirks at the sight of your wet eyes and plump lips. “Very good, my sweet thing.”

One of his hands wraps around your throat, and you gasp before his lips find yours again. You lean into it, loving the way his mouth slots so perfectly with yours. He grabs a hold of you as he wills you to stand with him. “My prince,” you sigh between kisses, drinking the lust he pushes down your throat.

You yelp when he dips down and lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he walks away with you. You hold on tightly to him, finding it so difficult to pull away from his lips. “Aemond,” he corrects you, his teeth closing around your bottom lip. You lick it, pleasantly startled by it.

The smallest scream passes your lips when Aemond suddenly drops you onto his bed. He chases after you, bending over it just to continue his attack of your lips. You cradle his face in your hands, indulging in this forbidden pleasure. He breaks from your lips, his mouth finding your neck as he kisses and licks and sucks and bites at the skin. You gasp at the feeling, your mind hazy with it.

His hands roam your skin, his dull nails grazing it with a certain longing. His lips trail down, down, down. He kisses the lowest part of your belly, lifts your leg as he moves to kiss your knee. He watches you as he does it. He doesn’t say a word, he just stares into your eyes with every peck against your flesh.

Uncontrollable shudders rush through you as his lips press against the inside of your thigh, his tongue darting to lick, his teeth nipping. He goes farther and farther, closer and closer. You don’t think you’ll be able to handle it when he reaches the prize he seeks.

Your words come out as a peep. “My prince.”

He pauses at the very center of your being, his mouth so close that his breath ghosts over you, teasing you. He lingers there, his hands gripping the underside of your thighs. “Aemond.”

His voice is low, almost dangerous. You feel too light and floaty to feel the real danger that is this man. You’re in no position to refuse as you take in a shallow breath. “Aemond,” you whisper.

Then he smirks. It’s a devilish thing that leaves you burning.

You gasp when he dives between your legs, his hot mouth meeting your hot cunt as he laps and sucks at your folds. Your back arches off the bed, and you’re overcome with this consuming feeling that leaves you wanting more, more, more. You whimper, stumbling over your incoherent words. “F-Fuck, Aemond.”

He’s hungry for you, starving as he devours you. It’s hot and heavy, and you’re left absolutely shaking in his grasp. His arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you close and keeping you down.

Your hands fly to his hair, gripping his silver locks and holding them tight to find something to ground you. You can't breathe, you can't think. It's all white noise, the sounds of wet on wet, his heavy breaths, your weak moans. It's utterly intoxicating. You don't think you'll survive.

“Oh, g-gods,” you gasp. “I c-can't. It's so… fuck, it's so good. Please don't stop!”

It’s like music to his ears. The highs of your moans, the lows of your grunts. It feeds his hunger, his pride, his desire. It writhes within him like the fire that writhes within his mighty dragon.

Aemond’s tongue licks and flicks at your clit, coaxing you closer and closer. As you tug at his hair, deep groans erupt from his throat. As your release nips at your heels, beckoning you, luring you toward that edge like a siren’s call, his name echoes off your tongue. He holds you down as you grind against his face, searching for more of him, a glutton for the pleasure he provides.

“Aemond,” you gasp, your body tensing as you get closer. “I’m so close. Please don’t stop–”

Your mouth drops open, your entire body suddenly alight with ecstasy as you reach that boiling point. White flashes behind your eyes as desperate shudders wreck you from the inside out. Your thighs tighten around his head, and his tongue never lets up as he continues to lap at your cunt. You gasp and moan and ride out your high like you’re afraid you’ll never feel it again.

He doesn't let up through your orgasm. He drinks it down, ever the starved man craving your honey. When the trembling has dulled down, and he thinks you can breathe again, Aemond sits up with a rather pleased look on his face. “You taste,” he hums, a large smirk covering his face as he licks his lip, “magnificent, pretty girl.” You melt at his praise.

When his finger teases the seam of your cunt, you look at him quickly, unsure of what you’re looking for. You whine when he presses his finger inside of you, pushing it in deep. The sensitivity matched with the slight stretch is maddening—and when he curls it, you lose your breath in your whimper.

You curse, not quite sure how to feel between your fresh release and his long finger seated so nicely within you. You cannot tell if you want to beg for more or ask him for a reprieve, if only for a moment. A moment to catch your breath, which is so frequently lost with this man.

But he’s far too happy to watch you tremble—and you do tremble. It’s hard not to when he plays your body like a player to a lyre. He thrusts his finger slowly in and out of you, content with the way you pant until he isn’t. As he adds a second finger, you clench your teeth and stifle a moan at the stretch. It’s a nice kind of stretch, it’s pleasant and warm but it drives you to madness.

He thrusts his fingers in and out of you, curling them against a spongy spot within you that arches your back in the same manner. The more he strokes you, the more you moan, and the faster he goes. His rhythm is quick and precise, and it's so blinding as it fills the air with the sounds of your moans, your squelching cunt, his eager breaths.

The pleasure swirls in your brain. It's the kind of pleasure that is just as much in your head as it is in your body, and you can hardly think past it. Bending down to meet you, his lips capture yours again. You moan into his mouth as they slide against each other. There's nothing tender about this kiss. There's never been anything tender about it. He's needy and primal, and it's the opposite of the composure this man holds as he walks about the castle with all the regality and elegance of a prince.

The way that you feel this pleasure is anything but elegant. You feel it with jerky limbs, with sharp gasps, with whining moans. You feel it with tugged hair and clasped thighs and clenched jaws. It's uncontrolled and incredibly indulgent. There's no restraint, as much as you try to keep yourself in check, he yanks these things from you and makes it impossible to be elegant.

“Such a good girl, you are,” he purrs, nipping at your earlobe. The praise goes straight to your core, straight to your pulsing clit. You're already so close, you feel the ebb and flow of a release pulling at you. “I can already imagine how perfect you'll feel around my cock.”

A whimper escapes you—a pathetic sound, really. He swallows it down like a sweet elixir, drunk on the taste, drunk on the feel. He could spend forever here, with his fingers shoved in your cunt and his mouth all over your body.

When he breaks away from your lips, he moves down your body and attacks your cunt, fingers still thrusting. You react immediately, rolling your hips against him as his tongue laps at your clit. You're so caught up in it that it takes no time at all for you to come again, this time all over his hand.

You shake as you shout, high-pitched whines and shallow breaths and blinded eyes. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, and he keeps coaxing the ends of your release from you even after you've settled.

When you go limp against the sheets of his bed, he pulls his hand out of you. You feel heavy, your eyes drooping and your chest still full of needy breath. You forget, for a moment, that you're not done. It's hard to keep up so fresh out of your virginity. You never thought you would lose it so thoroughly.

Aemond kisses your release from his fingers, humming at the taste of you with a growing appreciation. His hand wraps around his cock, and he groans. He's still so hard, and you wonder briefly if it hurts.

“Sit up, pretty girl,” he beckons, holding a hand out for you.

It takes a moment for your body to follow the order. When you do you grasp his hand as he helps you up. He wraps an arm around your waist, the other at his side as he pulls you in and kisses you with as much hunger as he began.

When he lets you go, he does so to move off the bed. You sit there, attempting to gather your thoughts. Everything is still so hazy, there's a slight confusion that is so difficult to gauge.

Aemond sits at the head of the bed, sitting back as he watches you for a moment. He seems to be giving you the moment you're needing. It doesn't last too long, though, because he reaches an arm out and wraps it around you to bring you to him, back to chest.

You can feel his cock pressing into your back as his lips brush the shell of your ear. A shudder runs down your spine.

“I am going to fuck you now,” he purrs in your ear. The smallest whimper escapes you, and his lips kick at the sound. “But before I do, I must tell you how much I've been craving you.”

You lean into him, no sense or care for the danger this situation puts you in. “I've been watching you.” A dull tingle sparks in your gut, arising in the tips of your fingers, of your ears. He was always watching you.

“You're such a lovely little thing.” He hums, “A sweet girl, a shy girl. No wonder my brother wants you so much. It's the only sensible thing he's ever done.”

He takes a deep breath in, his nose pressed into your hair as he does. With a sigh, he chuckles. “How lucky I am to have gotten to you first.” His hand flattens against your belly while the other strokes the inside of your thigh.

“You see, my brother…he would have ravished you.” The idea makes you cold, you have to force away the heat that pushes at your eyes. “But me…” you can feel his smirk against your ear as he whispers, “...I am going to ravage you.”

Your voice is a small murmur of a thing when you speak. You reach over your shoulder, your fingers finding his hair. “Please…” you whimper.

Aemond turns you around, lifting you up as he moves you to sit in his lap. His cock sits against your belly, and you lose breath just looking at him. You watch his face as his gaze covers you. His arms wrap tightly around your body, and when he kisses you, he has to move up to do it.

You cradle his head in your hands as you do, grinding your hips against him in your haste. He groans as you do, enjoying the way your pussy rubs against him. His strong hands wrap around your thighs, lifting you up again as he positions you over him.

When he eases you down, you whine into his mouth. But the intrusion doesn't stop as he presses deeper and deeper into you. Your thighs meet his lap, and you break the kiss to let out a heavy sigh at how far he sits within you.

You linger there, your mind hazy with the stretch as your body goes limp. It feels so good.

Aemond's hands flex on your thighs, and you moan when he presses you down, squishing your bodies together in an attempt to go deeper. “I can feel you clenching around me,” he huffs. “Do you want me, pretty girl? Do you want me to make you feel good?”

You roll your hips a little in his lap, your voice a permanent whine in your ear as you keep him close, your face buried in the crook of his neck. “Yes,” you gasp. “Yes, please fuck me, Aemond.”

He shifts his hands to grip your ass, and the moan that falls out of you is high and heavy. You hold him tighter, grinding down into his lap.

You fall into a steady rhythm soon enough—his hands guiding your rolling hips, your pitched moans, his strained breaths. Your thighs shake around him, it's so hard to keep it steady when you need more.

It drives you as you fuck yourself on his cock, searching even deeper for that pleasure, You're not used to the heat curling in your belly. It's white-hot, consuming. It makes you so hard to focus as it slowly begins to become all you know.

For a moment, you wonder if this is what it feels like to be a dragon. This overwhelming heat which makes a home inside of you. Hoarding, nesting, conquering. You wonder if this feeling is what makes the Targaryens what they are, rulers.

But then you remember. You remember who you are. You remember that dragons are fierce, and you could never even imagine being as fierce as even the smallest of the Targaryen beasts.

So you lose yourself in the pleasure until all you know is Aemond. His lips press against your skin as you ride him, his fingers digging into your skin as he licks and bites at your neck, your collarbone, your chest. When his lips wrap around your nipple, you're done for as you throw your head back. Pushing your chest closer to him, you bounce in his lap and indulge in this pleasure.

His moans vibrate within you. You're left gasping as his tongue digs into your nipple and sends electricity flowing through your veins. “Aemond, please,” you mewl. “Don't stop.” His tongue glides toward the valley of your breasts, and you arch your back into him when he claims your other nipple.

A sudden crack of thunder resembling a dragon's roar deafens you for a moment, and a startled gasp slips from you at the sound. You had not even realized it had been raining. If it weren't for the bliss clouding your mind, you would feel foolish for not hearing the rain sooner as it slaps against the windows of his chambers.

In your brief distraction, Aemond brings you in tight as he pushes you onto your back, and you yelp as you tighten your arms around him. His figure towers over you, and you hesitate for a moment as you stare into his eye.

He's pretty. It has an almost sobering effect on you. If you forget who and what he is, if you forget (for the moment) why you are here… you think that this is the man who you would allow to sweep you off your feet.

But he isn't, and he can't be. He is your prince and (for lack of better word) savior. You owe him a debt, which you will pay and move on.

So when his hips snap into you, you lose yourself all again to make all of this easier. Like the pouring rain outside, his sudden thrusts are quick and persistent. The sound of his cock sliding in and out of your dripping cunt matches that of the rain smacking against stone, against earth. You hold onto him, arms and legs, as he fucks you.

He holds you close, like he'll keel over if you disappear. His sounds, though deep and heavy, hold a certain desperation in them that transcends blind lust. As you moan in his ear and ramble nonsensically about how good he's making you feel, he buries his face in the crook of your neck and feasts at your throat.

Somehow, this position allows him to drive deeper within you. You're left gasping, seeing stars with every slap of his hips. One hand cradles the back of your head, tangled in your hair as you moan. The other grasps your hip and refuses to let go as he holds you still.

The rain outside carries on. It's more fitting than a silent night. The thunder rumbles and roars, just like the heat writhing within the both of you. “Do you like it, pretty girl?” he mutters in your ear, his breath thin and his voice low. “Do you like how I’m fucking you?”

You’re losing it, teetering on the edge of senseless bliss. There’s too much pleasure shooting in your body and nowhere to put it as you clench and shake and moan. “I can’t–” you stutter, wrapping your legs tighter around him. “Please, my prince, I can’t!”

“Do you want me to make you cum, pretty girl? Is that what you want?” His excitement and desperation mix in a heavy encouragement that has his hips thrusting rougher into your own. It feels so good for you to be able to think about what he’s asked. All you know is that he’s going to let you cum, and that’s all you want right now. You crave it, like the soil craves water, like your lungs crave air.

As you pull him tight within your embrace, you're driven by your need as you nod. “Yes, yes, yes, please.” You gasp at the roll of his hips. “I’ll do anything. Please give it to me.”

He loves hearing you say that. I’ll do anything. Part of him wonders just how far you would go. You’re already fucking him, the prince, in order to escape his brother, another prince. If he had his way—and it’s likely he will—you’ll find yourself in this position more than once following this encounter.

He just supposes you ought to be more careful to whom you speak those words.

“Beg for it,” he demands, his lips lazy against your skin. “Beg for me to keep fucking you. Beg for me to cum in you, to let you cum on my cock. Beg me to give you what you want, pretty girl.”

You’re too far gone to care, and your dignity has long since been shed. You’ve already sold your soul, you’ve already given up the virginity that’s meant to be reserved for a husband—were he ever to find his way to you. You have nothing left to lose but your life, and that has already been sold to the Targaryen reign.

So, as the thunder rumbles, you let the pleads fall. “Please, Aemond, let me cum,” you stutter. “Please cum inside of me. I need you.”

He’s losing control. It’s a confusing, conflicting feeling. He needs the control, he needs to feel it in his hands, especially as he takes you—something that was rightfully his when he decided you were. But you…oh, you just had to be so perfect, so obedient, so good. His control was slipping, and it was your fault, and part of him didn’t even care.

He held you still and he held you down as he fucked his cock into your squelching pussy and cricled his dept fingers over your aching clit. The sight of your tearing eyes as your foreheads pressed together was addicting.

You are the first to cum. The thunder outside of his window is loud, a terrible rumble that almost silences your desperate moans, the sobbing breaths that fall from your lips as you see white. The pleasure overcomes you like the pouring rain that drowns the ground in its consuming cover. You hold him tight, too tight perhaps. But there’s not enough sense in your mind to care.

You clench so tightly around his cock, he doesn’t understand how he was supposed to resist. With a few powerful thrusts, he spills inside of you with a low groan that sounds like a roar with the way it is drowned by the raging crack of thunder that deafens you both. Your cunt swallows his cock and his cum down, milking every last drop as he fucks it into you in deep, short thrusts.

You shake and tremble, still so caught on the ride that is the orgasm still ripping through your body. Aemond’s teeth graze the skin of your throat as his breath fans over your skin.

It takes a long time for either of you to come down. Tremors glide through your muscles as you lay on your back, your limbs very slowly loosening from around him as you lay limply on the bed. Your breaths mingle, an exchange of sobering lust which turns to solemn clarity for you and satiated hunger for him. As his gaze catches your face, he hums as he leans in and captures your lips.

As wrong as you know it is—though you know you’ve passed the point of moral obligation—you can’t help but to kiss him back. This man has consumed you, body and mind and soul. He has a claim on you now that goes even deeper, somehow, than the cum he’s shoved into your womb. You don’t know what you’re going to do, but for now…you simply give in to the intoxication of his desire.

When he pulls out of you, it's with heavy sighs and weak whimpers. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you to sit up, leaning all the way back until he’s laying against the pillows at the top of the bed with you right at his side. Despite your better judgment, you seek his warmth as you rest your head on his chest. Aemond throws one arm over you and the other behind his head.

Neither of you look at one another. It’s an unspoken agreement, while you both think over things in your mind. No gazes really need to be exchanged.

You thought, like some great metaphor, that the rain would begin to slow now that the frenzy has faded. You thought that the thunder would settle and the harsh patter of rain at the window would begin distant flicks of water on glass. But as you lay there, wrapped in Aemond’s embrace, the storm refuses to cease.

It’s a while before you find your voice. When you do, it’s still so quiet, and now hoarse with its overuse throughout this dark night.

“Will…” you lick your lip, swallowing thickly with a sigh. “Will Prince Aegon truly leave me be now?”

Aemond doesn’t respond right away. As he stares at the ceiling, you feel his thumb begin to stroke slow circles into your shoulder. It remains quiet for a long time. “My brother does not care whether you have your virtue or not.” His words would have pulled a gasp from you, were you not subconsciously expecting them from coming from his mouth. “He would have raped you all the same.”

Still, despite your suspicions, despite your inhibitions, you sit up just enough to look at his face. Despite everything, remaining oblivious seems like an easier choice than facing what you already know: he lied to you, and you let him do it because one evil is easier than the other. “What?” you whisper, apprehension in your eyes as you watch him. He stares back at you, taking in the sight of your innocence. He could not have chosen better.

“But he shall not,” he says, a firmness in his soft voice that eases your worry. “He will not cross me, and I shall have you transferred to my chambers instead of his to keep my eye on you.” He takes your chin in his grasp, pulling you close. “I promise my protection, it is yours.” His lips hardly brush against yours, it is you who closes the distance (no matter how much you convince yourself that it is him). You sink into him with a gentle sigh.

“He will not touch you. Now…” his eyes are dark when he says it, “...you belong to me.”

You always knew this was the route. You knew, whether you would ever admit it to yourself or not, that he always meant to own you. And you let him. You let him do it, despite knowing what he is.

He is a Targaryen, and all Targaryens must be beasts in the end, some more than others.

Prince Aegon is a cruel beast, a monster truly favored by none… but Aemond is no less cruel. He is a subtler beast, the kind that lies in waiting, charms with smiles and soothing promises, the kind that bargains in the dark and sways the monsters of the daylight. The difference between the princes is not the difference between good and bad. You know this. You have known this. You always will know this.

But Prince Aemond’s cruelty is kind…and you’d rather be monstrously deceived than beaten bloody and bruised.

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eccentricallygothic · 6 months

Note

Hey sweetheart 😘 I really hope requests are opened and you don't mind me sending in a request 🤗

I thought of something where you and Bucky are close friends with huge feelings for each other but you're both too stubborn to admit. So one time you're having movie night at the compound and you take your spot besides Bucky, enjoying the closeness. As some intimate scene appears, you feel Bucky all tense up and excusing him, so you later find him in his room wondering what's wrong, and finally he admits that he got nasty thoughts about you doing all that to him so he had to leave. You think about his words and before he can back out, you push him on the bed, straddling him, riding him, giving you both the pleasure you held back for too long. Afterwards he's a huge cuddle bear and asks you to be his girl ? 🤗 Hope that's okay with you 🫶🏼

Hello! And yes, requests are open and you certainly can send them in! Yours is definitely okay with me and maybe a bit too okay because it made me stray from my usual hc form 😵‍💫 I really, really hope you like it. Thank you for requesting! Happy reading 🩷

| Clueless |

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky Barnes | Avenger!Reader.

Warning(s): Kissing, unprotected p-in-v sex, cowgirl, nipple play, thumb sucking, Bucky's vibranium arm because I am a mental slut, Bucky mildly being the old man that he is, size kink, dirty talk, creampie, fluff. Minors do not interact.

"Bucky?" You call after softly knocking on his door before opening it. Your eyebrows furrow when you don't get a response and so you peek inside to scan the room.

You're about to turn on your heels and go look someplace else when you notice him on the balcony, back turned to you as he leans on the railing, a bottle in hand.

"Hey," he doesn't turn his head to look at you when you approach him. The super soldier probably already heard you when you were down the hall. "What happened? You didn't come back." You lean one arm against the balcony confine on the spot besides him, leaning your head to the side and watching him as he takes another swig.

Bucky takes his time swallowing, his heavy Adam's apple bobbing as he keeps his eyes trained on the grounds of the compound. His broad shoulders shrug only when he has gathered his thoughts a bit, legs shifting before he answers. "Just because." Your features scrunch in confusion.

What?

"Just because… what?" You voice your confusion and he sighs at your cluelessness. When he just shakes his head to himself you roll your eyes with a huff. "What, talk to me! What even happened?" The way he turns to his other side and his vibranium arm barricades you away from him pisses you off as you stomp to the other side.

Bucky has confusing moments like this sometimes that he eventually gets over but never provides you any explanation for them.

"Bucky, I can only know if you tell me…" You try though you know it'll be in vain, as usual. "What the hell happened? We were watching a movie and then you said you'd be a second and then half an hour later I realize you're not back and then I find you sipping beer in your room all by yourself like we weren't having movie night!"

The male sighs and shakes his head again before lowering it and turning once more. "Just so clueless…" When you go to speak again, he spins a 180° and walks back into his room. "But what else can I expect from this generation?" That makes you scoff as you tail him like a vulture, hot on his heels.

"What the hell does that even mean–"

"Language!"

"Oh, my God!" You throw your hands up in frustration. "What has gotten into you lately?! You're becoming more and more like Steve by the passing day!" The mention of the male shifts something in his expression and he half turns his head to look at you with an unreadable expression on his face. "And that means annoying!" The addition seems to ease the tension in his huge shoulders.

Just a bit.

Something has been going on with him and he refuses to share it with you even though you are the closest with each other out of the entire team.

"You seriously don't know what was wrong? Are you really so clueless?" You rake your memories to recall what he is on about since the movie was quite innocent in that sense except…

Oh.

You roll your eyes as you cross your arms over your chest. "Well, I am sorry not all of us are conservatives from the '40s, gramps" now it is Bucky's turn to scoff.

"Oh, really?" When you hum and nod with just as much agitation his frustration gets the best of him. "You know what a conservative from the '40s would really do?"

"Yeah, no. Do enlighten me please!" You know he doesn't appreciate it when you get too sassy with him but what is he going to do about it?

You are a girl with a mind of your own and no one is going to tell you or give you any shit.

"He would ask the potential lady love out on a nice dinner instead of hanging out with her right in the beginning!" Your eyebrows furrow as he sarcastically emphasizes the words. "I mean, what even is that supposed to be?! It doesn't make any sense!" Bucky clicks his tongue in disdain as one of his hands move in the air to help express his frustration. "There is an order, a code, a way to do these things! Fancy is not supposed to be treated so casually! You kids have ruined the sanctity of the whole idea!"

"What even are you on about, Bucky?!" You go on cluelessly. "This is absurd! So what, friends can't watch movies together now?! I am sorry that things are less complicated now?!"

"They're not less complicated!" He is beyond annoyed and you can tell. "Not by a long shot! If anything, it's worse! Because now I have to deal with watching a provocative scene while the girl I like is cuddling into me but I can't do anything because we are just friends having a casual hangout and I can't do anything about my hard cock that wants nothing more than to show her that the scene that has her gripping my arm so tight is nothing in comparison to what I can do to her if she just stops being so fucking clueless!"

Bucky's teal blue eyes are wide and he is nearly breathless by the time he finishes his little speech. Your own state is not much different as you blink up at him in shock. It is only when he has recovered a little that he realizes what he has said… or rather, confessed.

"I-" the super soldier goes to shake his head but then stops before half tilting it to the side, visibly at a loss of words as his ears turn beet red. "Y/n–"

Your fingers are curling around the neckline of his shirt before you know it, the pull of your hand tugging you towards him instead of doing what you had intended, his heavy body unbudging.

Bucky's arms hang limply at his sides as he stands against you utterly dumbfounded, barely kissing you back if at all as he tries to decide whether this is another one of his dreams or you, the only girl that has managed to reach into his heart after so long that it honestly feels kind of like the first time, really is kissing him.

What he doesn't know is that you are having difficulty with determining the same thing.

You pull back when your lungs are on fire and you are heaving for air desperately, fingers still tightly holding onto his shirt in bunches with the fear that he might vanish into the air if you let go.

Bucky blinks as he sputters out some incoherent nonsense, eyes wide as he watches your face to try and grasp what just happened. "I–"

You shake your head with a roll of your eyes and a tut. He's insufferable with all that chivalry. You do find it endearing at times but it's moments like these when he's so clueless and formal about it that it gets annoying.

"Just shut up and kiss me, old man" you whisper as your eyes flicker down to his pink lips and you're on him again.

This time though, your words seem to have snapped him out of it and his hands shoot up to your sides as he holds you back just as tightly, fingers reaching down for your ass cheeks before he squeezes them hard. You are forced to break the kiss, your face still remaining against his lips as you audibly shudder at the feeling, shivers shooting down your hips and straight to your intimate parts from the delicious ache that it causes.

Within the next few minutes, you have managed to back Bucky into the bed as he's distracted with touching, feeling and groping as much of you as he possibly can. He lands on the bed with a heavy thud but before any words can be exchanged, you are straddling his thick and muscular thighs.

Your hands hurriedly snatch his shirt off before you push him down, raising your own arms above your head to let him do the same as you grind into his hard on that feels so thick that some tiny part of your brain cannot help but fear for your pussy.

"Mmm, solnyshko, you're so fucking pretty" Bucky rasps out the nickname he gave you when you both realized you had reached that stage in your friendship. But now, with his very recent confession fresh in your mind, you see the meaning of the word, 'little sun', that he had told you with an air of awkwardness in a very different light.

"Look at all this pretty fucking body, solnyshko. I could cum just by looking at it alone." Emotion overcomes your senses and you suddenly feel a bit sensitive. A whimper escapes you as a result and you can't help but clench against his bulge, hands reaching to squeeze his hands that are feeling up your boobs now that he has fished them out of the bra cups.

"B- Bucky…" He seems to have sensed it already, and so one of his hands trail down to your side to caress it encouragingly.

"Go ahead, baby" the endearment is just as foreign for you as it is for him. "You're doing so good, keep going for me" you feel a twitch below you and you can't help but parrot the curse that slithers from his lips.

Though you are on top, Bucky still seems to have the upper hand as he always does. But you have never really minded that with him because he isn't nasty about it and you know he only means well. You have learnt that through various outcomes many times. Besides, not that you'd ever admit it but you do need the extra care and guidance sometimes.

It is tough to play the all-knowing hero all the time.

Bucky is your sanctuary to deconstruct and just be yourself after a long day.

You hope you are the same for him as well.

With newfound confidence that you have his praise to thank for, you whine as your hips start to circle and twist against his stuff bulge, your clothed pussy already pleased because of how needy and desperate it really is.

Your back arches as you moan out loud when his fingers go to circle around one of your nipples, twisting it between them before his fingernails dig in them while his vibranium hand finds your mouth. "Bucky!" Your face is flushed and cheeks hot as you feel his thumb graze the shape of your lips before pushing inside them. "Mmmm~" your brows furrow when you feel yourself leak some more before clenching around the air again.

Okay.

Grinding isn't gonna cut it.

You need him inside you.

You have waited for way too long to rub it out.

He just has to be all over you… and that includes all the openings to your insides.

Your lips tightly wrap around his thumb as you suck so hard that the sound of it resonates in the air, pulling a sharp string of whispered curses from Bucky. Letting go of his arms you now claws at his belt until it gives way to your ferocity and you nearly tug the fly off the fabric.

You whine louder than you would ever like to admit when he goes to tug your shorts off and you have to shift away from where you are grinding against him, the rude protective growl you end up letting out causing him to chuckle as he pulls the shorts off your legs with a soft spank to your ass; a signal for you to improve your crazed behavior.

Bucky has a way of keeping you in your place.

"Tsk, solnyshko, patience!" His playful words fall on deaf ears as you literally jump back up on his cock, planting two stubborn hands against his shoulders before pushing him down flat against the mattress from his half risen position.

Your single-mindedness once you zero in on something is a joke amongst the team. And though you deny it with every fiber of your existence, your actions and manic possessiveness over his cock right now is not helping your case.

"Mine" you whisper as you move back to now rub against him skin to skin, your fingertips tracing over the bumps of his body as your usually bright eyes watch him with a dark hue over them. A hiss leaves Bucky when your warm and soaking pussy drags against his member, causing for his hands to bolt to your ass as he squeezes with all his might to withstand the sensory overload. It is to avoid flipping you over to fuck you into oblivion.

Because that can come later. Right now is your first time with him and he prefers for you to take things at your pace; ease into whatever this will become.

"Just like that, solnyshko, good girl" the words cause you to whimper as you raise yourself by propping your body up against your heels, wrapping one hand around his intimidating girth before you slowly pump and spread both your precums along its destructive length.

Your bottom lip juts out a little at his scary size and you can't help but look up at him with a whimper. It is so easy because he is your safe place and understands every single one of your quirks with no words exchanged.

Everything makes sense with Bucky.

"It's okay, baby. You can take it, I know you can" he reassures you as he caresses your thighs comfortingly. "Go ahead, I'll take care of you if I have to" you nod gratefully, your usually smart mouth mum. Though when you look down at his rather monstrous cock again, you have to gulp to yourself as you arch your back before moving the thick tip against your entrance, the sensation causing you to hiss almost instantly.

"Hnnng, Bucky!" You feel yourself stretch and widen around his smooth skin, but then you slide down further and the shape of his thick bulging veins grazes against your trembling walls and your thighs quiver, causing your knees to shake. "Oh!" The most vile moan you have ever let out rings in the air as you reach for his shoulders sensitively, wincing and lowering your head against his to let him kiss you everywhere he can reach while your hips lower against his.

"Fuck, solnyshko, you're so fucking tight for me" his hands fondle your ass and breasts rather bluntly as he peppers kisses all over your face, moving his own hips in sync to yours to help you out because you are clearly struggling with accommodating and handling him. "Good girl" his lips capture yours in a clingy kiss, your mouths nearly sticking to each other's. You break away for enough time for Bucky to let out, "such a good fucking girl for me, baby" before you sink down on his cock again and bite his bottom lip as a result, loudly whining into his mouth.

The super soldier curses as he twitches inside you, his tip easily reaching the sensitive bundle of nerves that ks hot and eager to be touched. "Fuck, you're so biiiig!" You mewl as your eyes roll to the back of your head, fingers clasping around his shoulders as you find a rhythm and start bouncing, the aid of his hips causing a loud smacking sound to fill the otherwise quiet air.

You feel your loins tense each time his stiff veins graze your weeping pussy that desperately tries to return to its original state whenever he lifts you almost all the way up and off his cock only to have you sheath it back again from the tip.

You are trying your best to keep the control to yourself but the truth is, were it not for Bucky's guiding hold on your hips, you would have collapsed from the sensitivity of your core and the size of his impaler long ago.

"Look at you, solnyshko" the male cooes while panting but doesn't break off the sync of your bodies, one hand now dipping between your legs to let his vibranium thumb rub your clit. The action causes your limbs to spasm as you moan loudly, your back arching while your pussy clenches again. "Lookin' so pretty bouncing on my cock. Almost as if that's all you were made to do" his words make you grunt as you dig your nails into his skin.

Fuck, he is too good.

Not so chivalrous after all, was he?

"Oh, Bucky!" You have never moaned like this before. "I am gonna–" in control yet so powerless. "I- I am gonna cum!" No one has ever made you feel so good, so dirty, so used and yet so taken care of all at once. "Oh, please!" You have no idea why you are even asking his permission to do so. Before him you had always been the boss of your life.

But with Bucky, it just feels right.

Like that is the order of things.

That is just the kind of man that he is.

"Go ahead, my sweet solnyshko" his other hand slaps your ass and stars appear in your vision. Fuck. You had not expected him to be this dominant. "Fuck yourself dumb on my dick like the cock starved slut that you are" his referral to your crazed greed from some minutes ago makes you blush furiously but before you can protest, his thumb swipes faster and faster against your nub and renders you speechless.

Your toe curling orgasm os one that leaves you momentarily numb and deaf, the only thing your mind being able to register the overstimulation of your walls as Bucky chases his own orgasm now, basically using you as a cock sleeve as you motionlessly slam up and down his length, the upper half of your body hunched forwards as your cheek rests against his. Your mouth can only let out incoherent murmurs in his ear as you snake your arms around his neck and nibble on the skin of his shoulders until his hot seed explodes through you, filling your cavern up until it overflows and the white liquid trickles down your legs.

You are eventually moved down and off his cock to which you whine, your hole blinking around air at the loss of contact. That causes Bucky to chuckle as he wraps you up against him in his thick arms and moves your bodies further up the bed until you are resting against the pillows.

"Don't go~" you softly murmur with a pout when he turns to reach for his bedside drawers.

The arm that he has around you further tighten in reassurance as he fishes something out. "Aw, baby, don't worry. I am not going anywhere" your pout deepens when he turns towards you and the object comes into view. "Just–"

"Noooo~" you whine as you tighten your arms around his chest and nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck. "L- Leave it on~" one of his eyebrows raise before a little smirk appears on his face.

"Oh, solnyshko, you sweet girl" Bucky puts the tissue box away as he moves your hair out of your face before pressing a warm kiss to your forehead. "Aren't you precious, hm?" As he untucks your flushed face from his neck to look at and caress one of your cheeks lovingly, you blush harder and busy yourself with examining his dog tags to avoid his eyes. "Who would have thought that the baddest avenger would be such a cutie deep down?" You roll your eyes when he playfully quotes what you like to refer to yourself as. "Not wanting to be cleaned so she can remain covered in my cum–"

"Alright, alright. You can stop now" your voice is hoarse due to your vocal exercise from a couple minutes ago.

"Stop?" Your eyes flutter when his nails comfortingly scratch your scalp before one of his fingers snake through the strands of your disheveled hair. "But I haven't even started with you yet, baby" a snort leaves him when he feels you clench with a whimper at his words.

Your limbs are tangled as you lay relaxing in each other's scents, one of Bucky's thick thighs buried between your legs.

"Not even started with me yet?!" Your shock makes him snicker. "After all that?!'

It is safe to say that he has fucked the living daylights out of you.

… And he was not even on top when he did so.

Bucky shrugs. "Only one way to find out…" His eyes search for yours with hope.

You finally look up at him with a small smile, your heart thumping as your fingers curl around the chain of his dog tags. "I would love to, Bucky." Before you could shy away, your now boyfriend has captured your lips in his.

"Oh, and honey?"

"Yes… b- babe?"

"We really have to do something about those sassy little eye rolls of yours."

I know I made him dominant but it's literally Bucky, how could I not?!

1K notes · View notes

m00nlight-ramblings · 6 months

Text

Talk

As a famous singer, you find yourself at the same terrible party as Hozier, but you two decide to do something about it.

Pairing: fem reader x Hozier

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, p in v (protected) sex, fingering, 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who waited for this one...I'm so sorry it took so long. Please enjoy, and remember, my inbox is open for requests!

This party sucked.

Somehow, at one of the biggest album release parties of the year, you found yourself bored out of your mind, sipping on a weak gin and tonic. Leaning against a corner wall, the bass of the music from the DJ vibrated through you as you watched other people dance – your bandmates were somewhere amongst them, but for whatever reason, you just weren’t feeling it. Maybe you were just in a mood, maybe it was the music (one good song for every ten awful ones), but you sipped your drink, checking your phone every so often until it became a polite time to excuse yourself. You could already taste the revelry of getting back to your house before midnight – pajamas, Thai takeout, and scrolling aimlessly on your phone while Grey’s Anatomy reruns played in the background.

Suddenly, you saw a head bobbing around the others in the crowd – standing what seemed like almost a full foot above everyone else, his thick, curly hair pulled back in a half bun, he smiled and tilted his head to the music distractedly. Your breath hitched for a moment as you saw him – you had seen Hozier at countless red carpets and events in the past year it seemed, but he was also more handsome than the last time. He turned his head and your eyes locked, making you blush, and making him smile. He gently pressed a hand on someone’s back to alert that he was making his way behind him.

As if the giant could ever go unnoticed.

“Hi,” He said as he landed next to you, sipping from his drink. Something brown and in a rocks glass, one giant ice cube anchoring the liquid.

Of course.

“I feel like I needed to come over and speak to you – we seem to orbit each other at basically every red carpet this year.” He spoke, seemingly reading my mind. You smiled.

“That’s funny – I was just thinking that.”

Hozier nodded and his eyes scanned the crowd before landing back at you. It was like he was staring into your soul. Extending a hand, he smiled, “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m –”

“I know who you are,” You admitted, somewhat bashfully as you shook his hand. “I’m a big fan. I’m–”

“I know who you are,” He echoed, a smirk playing on his lips mischievously, “I’m a big fan.”

You could feel your blush deepen as his smooth words washed over you. His accent was enough for you to want to drop your panties, and his smile was already sending your head upside down.

“Your ‘Best New Artist’ win was well deserved,” He continued. “Your album was one of my favorites this year. Selfishly, I hope you guys are working on another one.”

“Wow, thank you,” You breathed, your heart thumping in your chest, “That means a lot coming from one of like, the best lyricists of our generation.”

“Ah,” Hozier waved his hand, bashful, “Come now.”

You cocked an eyebrow and smiled, “You’re going to write something like ‘I'd be the voice that urged Orpheus when her body was found, I'd be the choiceless hope in grief, that drove him underground’ and not expect to be considered that?”

He simply shrugged and sipped his drink. He was blushing, embarrassed.

“This album was also very good,” He changed the subject, speaking of the current album release party. He cleared his throat, “Even though this party sucks.”

You laughed and gently grabbed his forearm in agreement, “Yes! What is that about?!”

“I think it’s the DJ,” He admitted, leaning into you, “The guys releasing this album are buddies of mine, but I’m starting to think if I need to end our friendship based on the DJ they picked for this party.”

“The music he’s playing is making me feel old,” You admitted, “I don’t know any of the songs, and I don’t seem to really like it, either. Is this what our parents feel like when we were listening to Good Charlotte and Britney Spears?”

“Not mine. My mom loves Good Charlotte.” His eyes twinkled.

You laughed. Your eyes fell on your bandmates dancing to the music, obviously drunk off of the expensive beer being served at the open bar. You were acutely aware of Hozier standing next to you, his heat seemingly radiating.

“Is it an inappropriate time to tell you that I think you look beautiful tonight?” He asked, his breath warm on your ear as he leaned down to whisper it. Shivers were sent down your back as he spoke. You turned your head and looked at him, trying to play it cool with the smile that played on your lips.

“Probably not, considering how I’ve been thinking about how handsome you look since I saw you from across the room tonight.” You retorted, titling your head. He smiled and nodded, his eyes scanning the crowd.

“I’m reminded of your beauty every time I see you at events,” Hozier said, his hand finding the small of your back, “And, admittedly, every time I scroll your Instagram feed.”

You laughed, “Hozier is my internet stalker, eh?”

“Can you blame me? That number you had on at the Grammy’s this year?” He made a face, whistling, “It took every ounce of strength not to follow your account as soon as you were done presenting on stage.”

“Do you want to get out of here?” You asked, almost interrupting him. He seemed taken aback, so you tried to backtrack, “I mean…in a bit. We could go somewhere where…the DJ doesn’t suck? After we finish our drinks.”

Hozier quickly chucked back the rest of his drink, putting the glass on the nearest table. “Let’s go.” He took your hand as you chugged the rest of yours as well, finding the spot next to his glass for yours.

He guided you through the party, his hand never leaving the small of your back. You felt heat rushing through you as you made your way to front door, and Hozier handed the valet his ticket. He turned to you.

“Did you drive here?”

You shook your head. “Car service.”

“Great. We can take my car then.”

As the valet pulled up in a sleek Audi, Hozier thanked him and handed him a large bill as a tip. He waited until you were situated in your seat before he slid into the driver’s side, closing his door and pulling into traffic. Some sort of blues-y jazz was coming through the speakers softly.

“So where are you kidnapping me to, Mr. Internet Stalker?” You teased, looking out the window at the lights of downtown L.A.

He smiled, “My hotel,” His voice was a low purr. You exchanged a glance as he leaned his head forward, in explanation, “The bar there is really nice. Live jazz band tonight. It’s mellow.”

You nodded and smiled. As your heart raced, you were trying to calm yourself down, fiddling with the clasp on the purse in your lap. Hozier’s arm was resting on the console in between you, and every so often, his hand inched closer to you. By the time he pulled into the swanky hotel parking lot, his large hand was resting gently on your thigh.

Your stomach was in excited knots.

After another valet exchange, Hozier took your hand and led you inside the hotel. It was grand and beautiful – a $500/night type place. To the right of the entrance was a beautiful restaurant, speakeasy in style. As promised, a four-piece band was set up in the corner of the bar, playing soft tunes and creating the atmosphere of an underground jazz club.

“Told you,” Hozier said, raising his eyebrows playfully, “And the drinks are great as well. Had one before the release party.”

“It’s really nice.” You awkwardly agreed. Hozier stopped for a moment, his face unreadable. He stood before you.

“I also have a minibar upstairs in my room, if you want something to drink.”

“Oh, that sounds much better.” The coil in your belly was itching to be sated, and you didn’t know how much you could play this cat-and-mouse game of will they/won’t they. For a moment, a darkness of lust flickered in his eyes, but he simply smiled and took your hand, leading you to the elevator. He scanned his room card and pressed the button to the top floor.

The air in the elevator was thick, heavy. You both stood facing the door, saying nothing. As the doors open and he led you to his suite, your heartbeat doubled in time. Flicking the lights on, he shut the door behind you, placing the lock in it’s place.

It took all of 30 seconds before your bodies crashed together, teeth clacking and moans erupting.

Hozier grabbed you and pushed your floor length dress up so they he was able to wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bed. Your arms snaked around his neck, fingers finding their way into his hair. You pulled back slightly, your breath ragged already.

“So what the fuck do I call you?” You asked, breathlessly.

Confused, he looked at you, “What?”

“I need to know what I’m saying when I scream your name later…is it Hozier, or is it Andrew?”

He barked out a laugh and bit your lip, “Andrew. Andrew is fine.” He pressed his lips on yours again, dropping on top of you as he guided you to the bed. His large hands ran their way up and down your waist, palming at the skin on your body. He was moaning, grunting into the kiss, as your tongues danced together. You felt his hands leave your waist and slip your heels off, your toes already curling.

Andrew pulled away and slipped off the tweed suit jacket he was wearing. He looked down at you as he shook his head, a smile playing on his lips.

“So fucking beautiful,” He murmured, pressing hot kisses down your neck. “So fucking sexy. Every time I see you.”

You moaned and pressed your hips to him slightly, causing him to gasp lightly in surprise. He kissed down your neck, to your collarbone, gently slipping the thin straps of your dress off of your shoulders. Licking a stripe from your neck to just above your breasts, he smiled, looking at you.

“Fuck,” You breathed, looking down at him. You watched as he stood, slipping off his shoes and socks next to the bed. He unbuttoned his dress shirt and slipped that off, revealing his thin, hairy chest. He was lean, built lithly but strong. Biting your lip, you stifled a moan. He was on you once again, pulling you into a kiss, his hand cradling the back of your neck. His other hand made quick work of the zipper on the back of your dress, and he shimmed it down, before sliding it off of you completely.

Revealing the intricate…shapewear…you wore underneath.

For a moment, both of you stopped breathing, looking down at the ugly, functional corset that covered your body. Embarrassed, you pressed your lips together before looking back at Andrew. Suddenly, both of you were in hysterics.

“I really wish I was wearing some sexy lingerie right about now.” You said, throwing your head back and cackling. Andrew laughed and peppered kisses on your cheeks, shaking his head as he undid the shapewear and took that off as well.

“That was brilliant,” He said, wiping a tear away from laughing, “What a fuckin’ reveal.” As he took it off, you were completely nude, your skin softly pressed against his fingers. He groaned as he took you in, “That’s much better.” His voice was back to husky, low.

He kissed you once more before his fingers found their way to your clit, spreading your legs gently. He didn’t take his eyes off of you as his fingers felt your wetness. Quickly, he inserted two fingers, pushing his long digits all the way in. You moaned and furrowed your brow as he didn’t move for a moment, letting you adjust.

“You’re so wet for me already, darlin’.” He purred, his forehead on yours. You whimpered and nodded. He started to pump inside of you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. Immediately you started to squirm, which made me smile.

“Jesus Christ, Andrew.” You said, your eyes flickering to his fingers moving in and out of you. Heat rose in you as you watched him, the pleasure evident on his face as he licked his lips. When your eyes found his again, you found him looking at you, and not his handiwork.

“I love seeing you like this,” He said plainly, “You’re so beautiful when you squirm.”

He increased his speed, causing you to buck your hips. He nodded, his eyes twinkling, as he continued to pleasure you with his fingers. He leaned down to kiss you – a hot, open-mouthed kiss, with his tongue finding yours immediately. You moaned into it as he curved his fingers inside of you and took your bottom lip in his mouth, sucking gently. Pulling away, he dipped his head and moved his tongue to your hardened nipple, sucking on the bud as your body started to convulse under him.

The coil in your belly was tightening, and fast. Your hips started to buck faster, your wetness pooling out on to his fingers. You started to repeat his name like a prayer, and as you moved closer to the edge, your hand found its way into his hair again, tugging lightly.

“I’m close.” You whimpered.

“I know,” He smiled, moving his mouth to your ear, “Come for me. Be a good girl.”

You gasped slightly at his words as the coil snapped, bucking your hips one last time before your orgasm sent waves of pleasure through you. You moaned loudly, gripping the back of his head tightly as he bit down on your earlobe, never stopping his fingers inside of you.

“That’s it,” He groaned, his voice raspy, “That’s it, pretty girl. Give it all to me. Show me how pretty you are when you come for me.”

Your head swam and your heart raced, your eyes squeezed shut because you could focus. The pleasure that was spreading through you was warm, electric – it was one of the best orgasms you had ever had, and it was only with his fingers.

Jesus Fuckin’ Christ.

After a few moments, Andrew slipped his fingers out, causing you to open your eyes, your breath coming in heaving pants. He was smiling, obviously proud. Slowly, he licked his digits as he stood, moaning.

“Jesus, you taste delicious.” He said, looking at you. He undid the button and zipper on his pants, the obvious tent of his arousal very evident before he slipped them off. Down came his pants and boxer briefs, his large member springing free, wet with precum. He made his way over to a duffle bag thrown on a chair in the corner of the room and rifled through it, finally emerging with a condom in between his fingers. Opening it quickly, he slid it on himself, pumping himself a few times as he walked back to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Are you ready?” He asked, straddling himself in front of you, continue to stroke himself.

“Actually, if you’re not inside of me within the next few seconds I might lose my fucking mind.” You said, watching him. It was silly, but seeing him touch himself in front of you like that made him seem like a god. He smiled and crawled on top of you, slowly positioning himself at your entrance. As his tip teased your wet folds, you whimpered.

Finally, Andrew slid himself inside of you in a single thrust, his forehead finding yours again. Your moans filled the room, and as he started to pump inside of you, the familiar numb feeling of being filled spread throughout you.

“So good,” You said, closing your eyes and pressing your head to the pillow, “So, so good, Andrew.”

“That’s it,” He said, his breath hitching, “Wanna make you feel good. You make my cock feel so good.” He dipped his head in the crook of your neck as he started to slowly increase his pace, finding himself deeper inside of you. The sound of your wet skin slapping together filled the room, matched only by your breathy groans and his primal grunts.

“Fuck!” You shrieked, Andrew finding a particular spot that made your vision fuzzy. Andrew tilted his head up to look at you and he smiled.

“Yeah? Right there, darlin’?” He asked. You nodded, your brows knitted together. His hand found your chin, holding it roughly, “You like it when I fuck you right there?” You nodded again but he shook his head, “Lemme hear you say it, baby.” He gently commanded.

“Fuck. Yes, Andrew, right there!” You said, unable to take your eyes off of him. His eyes darkened as he continued to fuck you, his face flushing.

“My name sounds so good on your lips.” He groaned, continuing to pump in you. Sweat was beading on his forehead as he continued to hit your spot. His hand moved from your chin to your tits, and as he pinched your hardened nipples, you moaned. His thrusts became erratic, irregular.

“You’re close already, aren’t you?” You toyed with him, taking a moment to bite down on his bottom lip, “My pussy so good you’re gonna come for me?”

“Fuck,” He barked, furrowing his brows, “You’re so fucking tight…you’re so wet…I’m gonna come soon. I’m close,” His face flushed deeper as he stared into your eyes, making your heart thunder in your chest. Suddenly, he squeezed his eyes shut, his head thrown back, voice parted in a silent moan.

You felt his cock twitch inside of you, the condom filling with his orgasm. He jerked his hips, almost a spasm, as he moaned your name. His hands gripped the pillows on either side of you, his biceps flexing. You smiled as he finally opened his eyes, almost in submission as he rode out his orgasm. Your hands found their way to his back, gripping him and bringing him closer.

A few moments went by as he stayed inside of you, trying to catch up with his breathing. He placed gentle kisses on your cheek lazily, finally rolling out of you. Standing, he quickly made his way to the bathroom to toss the condom and clean himself up, but laid next to you again, scooping you up in his arms.

“You’re fucking incredible.” He murmured in your ear, his Irish accent coming out with his tired demeanor. You giggled and looked at him, brushing a sweaty lock of hair behind his ear.

“I’m really glad that party sucked so bad,” You said. He chuckled, his eyes still closed. Opening one, he looked down at you.

“Me too…” He paused for a moment, drawing you closer, “Though, even if that party was fun, I still would’ve made my way over to you.”

“Yeah?”

Andrew nodded and shifted so he was propping himself up on his elbow, “Yeah. I had been trying to muster up the courage for like…three awards shows to come over and say hi to you, now. Months worth of time.” He was somewhat bashful. You blushed.

“Well I’m glad you did.”

“Me too.” He reached out and started to brush his fingers through your hair, and you couldn’t help the fluttering in your chest.

That party sucked. But you were glad it did.

---

A/N: I'm actually kind of obsessed with their banter and relationship...should I make this multiple parts?! I was originally only planning on doing this as a oneshot but I kind love them (teehee).

As always, comments and reblogs mean a lot if you liked this one <3 Thanks for reading

#hozier fic #hozier fluff #hozier smut #hozier oneshot #hozier #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier fanfiction #hozier fan fiction

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yanderestarangel · 6 months

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did u delete a fic? i swear i saw a tio!miguel fic earlier today

a/n: hi angel! thank you for asking, in fact there was an age restriction and I decided to delete it, I'll take advantage of your comment and repost it. ✧⁠*ᜊ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᜊ.

"TIO" MIGUEL O'HARA X FTM READER

𝐓𝐖: dark plot, toxic relationship, power play, non con, dub con, manipulation, age gap, step!incest (non-blood uncle), invasion of privacy, stalking, threat, dead dove, dark smut, latino ftm reader, femboy reader, jealousy, aggressive sex, recorded sex, dom!miguel, v!sex, blowjob, spanish nicknames, send nudes, degradation, objectification, AU, male x male, porn plot, long fic, brain rot, creampie, blackmail.

Family parties were normal for your family, getting together some close relatives and celebrating on any weekend, always with plenty of music and laughter filling your ears, was annoying at times, but you couldn't say 'no' to a tradition.

You felt the cold of the night breeze enter your skin, each hair left its place accompanied by a strange chill ── you were being watched, and you knew very well who it was... Tio Miguel.

Miguel O'Hara was a friend of your father, a mysterious and serious man, even though your family welcomed him as if he shared the same blood, he still had the same look of rigidity and seriousness ── no one knew much about his past, if he had some relationship or family before moving to your city years ago, but it was only said that he worked as a caretaker on some local farms ── which made him earn too much money for a simple caretaker, but that matter was not touched by no one in your family.

You obeyed the strict rule of calling him "Uncle" or "Tio", since when he arrived, when his eyes met yours, it was as if something awakened in his core ── a flame lost for years, now burning in his soul, and you it was the kerosene that made this fire worse.

Your attention returned to reality, seeing the tanned man go to the place where you were, sitting next to you; muscular legs crammed into the black jeans he always wore, with a weather-beaten dress shirt that had previously been white, now appeared to be a light vanilla shade, hugging the girth of his robust muscles. He had a cold, fresh can of beer in his right hand, while his left went towards his hair, arranging some loose strands that insisted on falling on his forehead, his lips formed a thin line, the corners turned down in disapproval ── The sight of you hiding from the celebration hurt him, a pang of possessiveness invaded his chest, soon remembering the things he had seen, however, before touching on the topic of rupture the words came out softly from his throat.

"What is wrong, carinõ?"

He asked softly, hand reaching out to take yours gently. His grip was firm but not unnecessarily tight, calloused skin warm against your own.

"You should be out there, dancing and laughing with your family... You seem thoughtful mi principito"

You sighed in response, quickly explaining that you weren't in a party mood, your hands went back to the cell phone that was previously in your pocket, making the Mexican's eyes narrow in response to such an act. O'Hara took a deep breath, feeling the air fill his lungs, then crushing the drink can in his hand and turning to you, he knew exactly what he wanted to know and he wanted the truth.

"Who was that boy, mi vida?”

He questioned, pulling you closer to his frame as the music swelled around you. His fingers traced idle patterns on your back, you felt the burn of heat on his body, the smell of expensive men's perfume and cheap alcoholic drink.

"You were speaking so intimately with him..."

His voice was a low purr, tinged with warning.

"This is our moment, just us... I dropped that phone." That was a threat, making you make a quick excuse ── after all, you knew exactly what he was talking about, you were going out with "Hobbie Brown", a friend from your college, but you didn't expect your uncle to have seen the two of you together (but it wasn't very difficult, you and the boy always clung to each other even if you didn't have anything officially. )

You moved away from Miguel's heat, before the sensation was still tolerable, but now it seemed like a violent flame and about to explode like a time bomb. Your mouth opened, speaking sweet lies, trying to mask the fact that you were going out with Hobbie ── you knew that the best way was to lie, even if it didn't do anything, you had already seen how your non-sanguine uncle acted like a crazy man when you were around people other than him. Miguel's eyebrows arched in disbelief, dark brows furrowing deeply. "Tell me, corazón, is there something you wish to confess to me?"

He asked, tilting his head curiously. His gauze lingered on your lips, as if he could taste the lie on them. "I see what happens around me, my heart."

He murmured, his voice low and dangerous.

"And I do not like it... Do not lie to me, mi angel, because the next lie I hear from your sweet lips, you'll regret it." The sound of his voice was a low rumble, like thunder on the horizon. He pulled you close again, his lips brushing your ear softly.

"You play with fire... Mi pequeño."

His voice was a whisper now, his breath warm against your skin.

"And one day, that fire will burn you."

He released you then, stepping back with a harsh exhale. His eyes were stormy, his features set in a hard line. Miguel stared at you for a moment, as if he could read your thoughts, as if he could feel your fear ── Finally, he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"If I ever hear of another man touching you like that again... I will end him." He muttered, downing a large gulp of his drink before setting the bottle down on the table. You watched him leave, the loud footsteps on the raw cement floor were enough to tell you that he was angry. The rest of the party was strange, you felt tio Miguel's eyes on you, even though the atmosphere was pleasant for the other participants in your family, everything had gotten worse after the confrontation you had with the man ── you thought about telling about your uncle's strange behavior towards your father, but you knew it wouldn't help, they would just defend Miguel and say that you were exaggerating... But you felt like you weren't.

You went to your room, while you saw the tall man's shadow in the hallway, bumping into the walls because he was too drunk to think or stand on his feet ── you saw him leaning on your door frame, while you asked calmly if he needed some help. Miguel's eyes met his, his vision slightly blurred from the alcohol he had consumed. He licked his lips, his gaze roaming your body hungrily, but he didn't act, only a sob and a sad laugh left his lips, while he showed his white canines.

"You are mi ninõ. You always have been and always will be... There is no escaping your destiny."

He babbled, his words filled with drink, but he was serious, like he had never spoken before, you could see a mix of dark emotions that burned in his brown orbits, each word, no matter how slurred it was, carried a clear truth that could not be said aloud by several taboos.

His hands reached out, gripping your arms tightly. His fingers dug into your flesh, leaving small red marks.

"Don't forget this... You would never lie to your Uncle right? I will protect you... Incluso si es de ti mismo."

He leaned closer, his breathing heavy and laced with the smell of whiskey.

"But I will also punish you if you disobey me."

He let go of you then, frowning as he looked at the marks he had left on your arms.

"Go to bed now."

He mumbled, turning away from you and stumbling towards the door.

"Sleep well, my precious boy."

His voice was filled with alcohol, spite and a twisted desire ── the latter making his gaze linger on you for a moment longer, as he staggered out, ignoring everything and everyone around him, you tried to ignore the burning in your stomach, a mixture of fear and a bittersweet heat near your stomach, you were maybe just very tired... Right? You pushed away the thoughts that consumed your mind, trying to grab the fog of sleep that you tried to achieve, you hoped for a good day... But little did you know what fateful destiny had planned.

You woke up to your parents cleaning the house, it was a hot and irritating Sunday, you woke up sweaty and to the loud sounds of rooms being dragged from one place to another ── you really didn't want to be there, so your father told you to go to your uncle Miguel's house, even though you insisted on saying the opposite, that you could handle the chaos at home and help them, but your parent just repeated the phrase and sent you to keep O'Hara company at his house.

Everything would be better than facing him again.

You wore your most comfortable and cool dress for that sultry summer day ── your breasts bounced and you felt the coolness of the wind blowing beneath your legs, reaching your thighs and panties, an adorable boy, on the way to the wolf's house.

Walking under the sun until you saw Miguel's house in a rural area and away from the common neighborhood, you called his name, soon seeing the man come completely sweaty and shirtless, still wearing the same pants from yesterday, while drying his sweat of his brow, letting you into his comfort.

"Fine."

He grumbled, he turned around, taking you home without saying another word. The tension between the two of you was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words.

As you entered the house, you noticed a slight disorder. Miguel's usually immaculate house really needed some cleaning. He gestured for you to sit on the couch.

"Your father said you were coming..." He sighed with a hand on his hips as he looked at you steadily. "That's good, now we can continue our conversation from yesterday, okay? I want the truth my boy, give me your cell phone, unlocked... After all, you have nothing to hide from me right... You and Hobbie are just good friends... Right?" His voice carried that threatening and authoritarian tone again, you stuttered but when you saw your uncle's look you swallowed hard and accepted your fate, obviously you had spicy messages on your cell phone, but what could you do? Running unfortunately wasn't an option, neither was screaming, you were trapped in a spider's web, and in the possessive man's judgmental gaze.

"Now. Give it to me. Or else you know what I'm capable of."

He repeated as you handed him the electronic device ─ and it didn't take long for him to find what he was looking for... Miguel's eyes narrowed as he flipped through the messages on his phone. His grip tightened around the device, his knuckles turning white. A mixture of anger, jealousy and hurt crossed his face as he read the explicit messages and saw the intimate photos, you were really with that boy... You were doing everything behind his back.

"How dare you show your body to that piece of shit!"

His voice was laced with bitterness and disappointment. He threw the phone onto the table, the screen cracking on impact.

"Do you think you can send nudes to some random boy and get away with it?"

He took a step towards you, his expression darkening.

"Did he make you wet? Did he make you excited?" His words came out like venom, his hand shot out, grabbing your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him. Miguel's grip on his chin tightened, his fingers digging into his flesh. His angry eyes fixed on his, his expression filled with a mixture of possessiveness and pain.

"I expected everything... Except that, I'm tired, tired of just being seen as your fucking uncle... I can give you so much more than that boy ever could. I can make you scream, make you beg for more. But you need to understand that you are mine."

His voice was filled with a desperate need, a desire that was both warm and terrifying. He pressed his body against his, his erection evident through his jeans. You tried to protest again, in vain, you just felt O'Hara's thick lips on yours, it was strong, his tongue dominating his as he held you tightly. His hand guided your trembling hand to his hard, throbbing erection, pressing it against the fabric of his pants. He let out a low growl of pleasure, the sound vibrating against your lips.

"You always make me hard on boy... So fucking hard." He continued kissing you fiercely, your free hand moving to grip his waist, his fingers digging into your flesh. He pressed your body against his again, now the bulge of his pants rubbing against your thigh. The intensity of his touch and the raw desire in his eyes made your own body respond, despite the fear and confusion, it was so wrong, but it felt right at the same time.

"Do you think you can show yourself like that to anyone? Do you think there will be no consequences?"

He pushed you back, guiding you towards the couch again ─ his hands exploring your body with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

"Strip for me, baby boy. Show me that body you dared to share with someone else. Show me what only I should see."

His voice was commanding, his eyes burning of lust and anger. He watched as you hesitantly complied, removing your clothes piece by piece, revealing your naked form to him ── your dress was discarded somewhere in the room, your breasts bounced while your nipples became hard from contact with the air, your pussy was already wet, a simple kiss had done that to you.

He looks at you with admiration... All of that was for him, a banquet of the gods, he wasn't going to leave you in punishment, no matter how angelic you were, he was going to reduce you to a dumb and beautiful mess, totally broken for him.

"Look at you... So eager to please, so desperate for my touch. Did just one kiss from does your uncle get you this wet?"

A smile played at the corners of his lips as he took hold of his cell phone, opening the camera app with a sinister glint in his eyes.

"Well, since you were so willing to show yourself to that boy, I think it's only fair that I capture this moment. Don't you agree, my precious angelito?"

He positioned himself in front of you, his cock springing free from his pants. The sight of his naked arousal feels a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. He pulled you down to your knees, his grip firm on the back of your head.

"Suck it," he commanded "Let the world see what a slut you've become."

You hesitated for a moment, the gravity of the situation sinking in. But the thought of defying him only fueled his anger further. With a mixture of trepidation and submission, you wrapped your lips around his throbbing length, your tongue swirling around his head. He groaned, his grip tightening in his hair as he began recording your submissive act.

"You look so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth. Such a good boy, taking it all in."

He continued to record, capturing each salacious moment as you eagerly pleasured him. The taste of his cock and the sound of his moans filled your senses, heightening your own pleasure. Your body responded, the tingling warmth between your legs growing more intense with each passing moment.

"No one else gets to taste you like this. You're my slutty boy, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it."

He spoke as the fat and hot tip of his member hit your throat repeatedly, making you choke and connect your nose with his groin, the lack of air making you momentarily see stars as he let you breathe again.

As Miguel reached his climax, he grunted and released a hot jet of cum into your mouth. He groaned with satisfaction, feeling the pulsing sensation as he emptied himself into your mouth. The taste of his essence filled your senses, mixed with the bitter-sweet humiliation of the situation. Once he had finished, he withdrew his dick from your mouth, his grip firm on your face. He forced you to open your mouth wide, showing your dirty tongue, coated with his cum, to the camera. The sadistic glint in his eyes only intensified as he instructed you to swallow it all.

You obediently complied, gulping down his cum, heavy tears ran down your body, while his thumb pulled your cheek to show him even more of your oral cavity.

"Look at the camera....You look like a damn porn star... A filthy, little porn star."

You barely had time to react, then the man trapped you beneath him again ─ his thighs separated yours, while he looked at your cunt milking the air with so much excitement, making him laugh mockingly and dominantly ─ without prior warning, his thick cock entered your wet pussy, stretching you to your limits and causing a mixture of pain and pleasure to surge through your body. Your legs were draped over his shoulders, granting him unrestricted access to your most intimate parts.

As he thrust into you, Miguel focused the camera on your tear-streaked face, capturing every moment of your vulnerability and submission.

You were a mess of conflicting emotions, a beautiful sight to him as he reveled in his dominance over you, The desire makes you delirious, completely erasing your sense of right and wrong ── soon you find yourself thrusting your hips onto his cock, whimpering pathetically as you moan his name.

"Mmm, you're such a buen chico para mí.. such a good and beautiful pussy... You hid it from me for so long... But you showed it so easily to that bastard... You disappoint your uncle sometimes, boy."

His hand left the camera momentarily, his fingers finding your clit, caressing it in a way that made your moans intensify, he watched your reactions closely, moaning with lips parted, as he looked directly into your teary eyes.

"See, I knew you'd love this, aren't you? Oh, sí... Mierda- Eres tan apretado chico".

Then, with the peaks of moans and pounding of flesh on flesh, his grunts grew louder and more primal as he climaxed. With one final thrust, he released his hot sperm deep inside your pulsating pussy, filling you with his essence. When he pulled out, the camera captured the evidence of your intimate connection, showing the mixture of his cum and your own juices. Your pussy clenched and milked the air, aching for more even after he finished.

"You've taken all of my cum... Un buen chico para tu tio."

You couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction mixed with a tinge of shame as you watched your body respond to his touch.

He smiles at the video on his cell phone, while looking at you with a dangerous glare.

"Now you're going to be a good putito... After all, you don't want this to leak out to our family, do you?"

You had no choice, and maybe you didn't even want to... Miguel had broken you, as he always wanted, you were his now, only his.

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