Guilty as Sin | P.SH
ceo!sunghoon x assistant!reader
warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, desk sex, doggy, dom!hoon, choking, petnames (slut, good girl), slight dub con (hoon doesn't know what she's doing on the phone), age gap (reader is 22 and hoon is 27), not proof read, its not great tbh, anything else lmk!
w.c: 3.8k
synopsis: with your roommate gone for the evening, it is the perfect opportunity to let loose and think about a certain ceo while you fulfil your deepest desires.
a/n: hi! this is ofc based on guilty as sin by taylor swift. just a heads up, the italics are her fantasy and straight text is what is happening in the real world. i tried to make it as clear as possible but sorry if its confusing near the end! this is just a little someting I wrote quickly (who would have guessed I could write a wc under 10k lmao). i hope you like it and as always feedback, comments, reblogs and likes are all appreciated.
part 2
Placing her trusted Charlotte Tilbury lipstick in her bag, your best friend and roommate of three years, Jimin, is finally ready to go out for the night. She looks glamorous from head to toe, effortlessly exuding the confidence and allure of a world-class supermodel.
Her hair cascades in loose waves, artfully swept over one shoulder, highlighting her elegant neck and perfectly styled tresses. Her tanned skin glows under the soft lighting, accentuating the contrast with her white spaghetti strap crop top, which subtly showcases her toned midriff. Her black suede shorts hug her figure, adding a touch of sophistication and edge to her ensemble. Strappy heels elongate her legs, making her look even more statuesque.
As Jimin adjusts her earrings, you can't help but admire her impeccable sense of style and grace. Her makeup is flawlessly applied, with a hint of shimmer on her eyelids and a bold, dark red lip that makes her look like she’s stepped straight out of a DAZED magazine.
In stark contrast, you are nestled comfortably on the couch in your cherry pink pyjamas, lost in the pages of "King of Pride." The soft fabric of your pyjamas provides a comforting embrace, and your hair is casually pulled back in a loose ponytail. Your face is free of makeup, showcasing your natural beauty and the relaxed ease of someone enjoying a quiet evening, just you, a glass of wine, and the much-needed company of Kai Young.
“Okay, how do I look?” Jimin turns to you, plastering on a big smile, extending her arms so you can get a full glimpse of her carefully orchestrated outfit.
Holding your place in your book with your thumb, you pretend to inspect her harshly, knowing anything less would be deemed as not caring - at least in the eyes of your best friend. “I think…you look like the prettiest girl in the room, no, the world” you compliment her earnestly.
Tutting, she rolls her eyes. “You and Jaeyun say the same thing every time,” she giggles, enjoying the compliment despite it being a secret mantra you and her boyfriend have conjured up to keep her happy. Jimin has a certain way she likes to be spoken to and if it isn’t the most dramatic, complimentary words you can muster, you might as well call her an ugly hag who cracks mirrors.
Jaeyun and you have always rated her an unequivocal one hundred out of ten.
“Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to come?” Jimin asks for the fifth time in three hours. “Heeseung will be there, you know he has a bit of a crush on you.” She wiggles her eyebrows playfully, clearly enjoying how your face flushes at mentioning his name. Heeseung is handsome, no doubt about it, but he isn’t the man you would rush out the door for.
“I promise, I am quite happy here with my rich soon-to-be CEO and a glass of Pino,” you wave her off and open your book again, digging back into the chapter she pulled you from.To be honest, it’s not entirely a fib; you do want to stay in and enjoy a glass of wine, though your plans are slightly more elaborate than they seem—details she doesn’t need to know about.
“Well, don’t wait up. I’m planning to stay at Jaeyun’s afterwards,” she announces with a gleeful smile. Her infectious joy and the glimmer in her eyes catch the warm light from the lamp beside you, casting a gentle glow over the room.
As she gives a final twirl and heads out the door, leaving the apartment with a high-pitched goodbye, you wait to hear the faint turn of her key in the lock. Once you detect that reassuring click, signalling her definitive departure, you wedge your bookmark in the novel and place it on the side table, promising yourself that you will return to it later; you have another CEO to attend to.
Grasping your glass of crisp wine and your phone, you make your way to your bedroom. The room is softly lit, with fairy lights casting a warm, ambient glow. You place your wine on the nightstand, sitting softly on your bed as you unlock your phone.
A sigh leaves your wine-tainted lips as you open up Instagram, going straight to a certain someone’s page. The same person that has left you so needy all day that you have been counting down the minutes and seconds until you get some alone time.
Park Sunghoon.
Your boss, Park Sunghoon, who gave you a job as his assistant straight out of Grad school after attending one of his special lectures, the one who has shown you the ropes of the Marketing world and introduced you to important contacts to help you in the future, and the one who makes it insanely difficult to concentrate in any board or business meeting because of how insanely attractive he is.
Sunghoon is a gift from the gods: tall, wealthy, extraordinarily handsome, and incredibly hard to resist. He is admirable and focused, commanding a room in a way you wish he would with you, hoping that the passion and energy he has for the business could somehow translate into a more intimate setting, with you on the receiving end. He has worked tirelessly to build his company from rags to riches, becoming the youngest, highest-grossing CEO in the country, making every Forbes 30 Under 30 list there is. You are immensely grateful for the opportunity to work as his assistant.
That is why what you are about to do feels like a betrayal. Your heart tells you this is wrong, embarking on sinful acts such as this, but it also convinces you that thoughts inside your mind aren’t anything to feel ashamed about, as long as you look and never touch.
And so far, you haven’t ever laid a finger on him, much to your disdain. There have been times when all you can think about is pouncing on him while he sits at his desk, imagining bouncing on his cock until you’re high off his cum and kisses. You envision his white shirts and black ties discarded, your lips all over his toned chest and stomach, hearing him moan your name as you make your way to suck his cock better than any of his socialite flings ever could.
If the assistant and CEO dynamic wasn’t enough to deter you from making your fantasies a reality, the class barrier would be your first hurdle. Sunghoon comes from a world of privilege and status, a realm of luxury and power. Despite your impressive academic achievements and the progress you’ve made in your career, there’s always an underlying awareness of the different worlds you inhabit. You’re 22 and an assistant just starting to work your way up and Sunghoon is a 27-year-old CEO of a multi-million dollar franchise.
You are nowhere near his level.
Yet, the allure of his presence is irresistible. His charisma and the subtle way he looks at you during meetings ignite a forbidden desire within you. The professionalism you maintain in the office is a fragile veneer, concealing the simmering tension and your hidden longing. Each day, you master the art of restraint, keeping your fantasies locked away, only to revisit them in the privacy of your room, where the boundaries of reality and imagination blur.
Scrolling through his Instagram, you hone in on one particular picture, your favourite among them all: his GQ CEO of the Year cover. Maybe it was because you were there when it was taken, seeing him switch poses, flicking his eyebrows up and smirking into the camera, his fingers gripping the edges of his desk as the photographer shouted praises intertwined with instructions. God, how you would do anything to be bent over that table and fucked to oblivion by the man.
You reach into your bedside drawer and retrieve the pretty pink dildo you ordered from Adam & Eve, the size mimicking what you imagine Sunghoon’s looks like: slim but not skinny, long and arched, with a large bell at the end. It’s so wrong to imagine what your boss’ dick looks like, never mind buying a toy specifically to fantasise about him, but you can’t bring yourself to feel guilty about it—not when you’re cumming around it and screaming his name.
Position yourself comfortably, the soft sheets bunch up around you and close your eyes. The fantasy takes over, vivid and tantalising. You picture Sunghoon, his intense gaze locked on you, his hands rough yet tender as they roam your body. The thought of his voice, low and commanding, fills your mind, heightening your arousal.
And you get lost in the fantasy as you look at the picture illuminating your screen.
Pushing down your pyjama shorts, you discard them quickly, your cunt already greedy to be filled. You rub the dildo up and down your slick folds, gathering your natural lubricant as you look at Sunghoon’s stern face on your phone screen, remembering all the times he has reprimanded you for doing something wrong. You never fully took in the severity of the situation, your mind too lost in the lower octave of his tone and how badly you wished to be punished by him.
“Bend over. Now,” he says with venom lacing his tone, the words cutting through his quiet office.
You do as he says, leaning over the desk and hiking up your skirt, eagerly anticipating your retribution. The air is thick with tension as Sunghoon’s body looms close to you, teasing you even with just his presence. Your mind races as his hands situate themselves on your hips, pulling your ass back into him, the action causing your cunt to meet his bulge. The outline of his length protrudes through his Prada slacks, making your pussy ache all over him.
Leaning his body over yours so his chest is pressed firmly against your back, he ghosts his lips over your earlobe. “How many times do I need to tell you to do your job right?” His question is rhetorical, knowing that if you speak, you’ll get an even worse punishment.
His warm breath on your ear sends shivers down your spine, and you feel your core tighten in anticipation. His grip on your hips tightens as he slowly grinds against you, the friction of his bulge against your soaked panties making you whimper. The feeling of his hard cock pressing into you, even through the fabric is intoxicating, and you can’t help but arch your back, pushing yourself closer to him.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and taunting. “So desperate for it. Such a needy little slut.”
Before you can respond, he straightens up, his hands leaving your hips, his warm grip now replaced with the cold lingering of want. Without warning, he brings his hand down on your ass with a sharp smack. The sensation is electric, a mix of pain and pleasure that makes you gasp, the sting of the spank sends a jolt of arousal straight to your core, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan.
“Did you like that?” he asks, his tone mocking. He doesn’t wait for an answer as his hand comes down again, harder this time, the sound of the impact echoing in the large office. The force makes you tremble, your skin tingling with the aftershock, your cunt leaking down your leg in sheer joy and agony.
“Yes, sir,” you manage to gasp, the words escaping your lips before you can stop them.
“Good girl,” he purrs, and you feel his hand rub soothing circles over the spot he just spanked, the contrast of his gentle touch against the sting making your body crave more. He is giving you the perfect mixture of punishment and rest, somehow making you crave a spanking more than ever before despite your ass whispering pleas of ‘no more’
Another sharp smack lands on your other cheek, and you can’t hold back the moan that escapes your throat. The pain mingles with pleasure, your pussy throbbing with need. Each hit is harder than the last, and you can feel the heat rising in your skin, the stinging sensation turning into a delicious ache.
“Do you want more?” he asks, his voice dripping with seduction. “Do you want me to punish you properly?”
“Yes, sir,” you reply breathlessly, your body trembling with anticipation. These two words seem to be the only thing that can fall from your lips other than strangled moans and mewls of desire.
He spanks you again, the force making you lurch forward, your hands gripping the edge of the desk for support, the hit vibrating all the way to your throbbing bud. The sharp sting reverberates through your body, intensifying the ache between your legs. You feel yourself getting wetter, your juices dripping down your thighs, hitting the Versace shoes that Sunghoon bought you for a work event.
“Look at you,” he taunts, his voice low and commanding. “So needy, so desperate. You can’t even control yourself, can you?”
“No, sir,” you admit, your voice a whimper. “I need you.”
His hand comes down on your ass again, harder than before, and you cry out, the mix of pain and pleasure overwhelming your senses. You can feel the slickness between your thighs increasing, naturally preparing yourself for what is to come.
“You’re such a good girl,” he murmurs, his hand rubbing soothingly over your reddened skin. “Taking your punishment so well.”
He leans over you again, his lips brushing against your ear. “But we’re not done yet,” he whispers, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “I’m going to make sure you never forget this.”
With that, he draws back and gives another harsh slap, the impact of which causes you to squeal. The cadence of his spanking quickens, each slap sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your skin tingles with each hit, leading to a climax.
“Please, sir,” you beg, your voice trembling. “Please, I need to cum.”
He pauses, his hand resting on your ass. “You need to cum?” he repeats, his tone amused. “Just by my hand?”
“Yes, sir,” you reply, your body trembling with need. “Please, I’ve been a good girl, let me cum.”
He chuckles softly, his hand sliding between your thighs to feel your wetness. “You’re soaked,” he remarks, his fingers teasing your folds. “Such a needy little slut.”
His words send a jolt of arousal through you, and you whimper as he teases your entrance with his fingers. “Don’t you want my cock?” he asks, his voice low and seductive. “Don’t you want me to fuck you?” His words are condescending, knowing that with a few more slaps you’ll be clenching around nothing, yet, he can’t stand to see you cum and it not be around his delicious cock.
“Yes, sir,” you moan, your body aching for his touch, for his dick to be stuffed deep inside you. To be honest, you want anything he will give you. “Please, fuck me.”
Unbuckling his belt and letting his black trousers and boxers fall to his ankles, he positions himself behind you, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, and you push back against him, desperate to feel him inside you.
“Patience,” he murmurs, his hands gripping your hips. “I want to take my time with you.”
Finally wet enough to snuggly enter you, the dildo sinks into your cunt as you imagine him sinking in slowly, the wave of pleasure as you stretch around the faux shaft enough to send your head back into a frenzy.
He pushes in slowly, the stretch of his cock filling you inch by inch. The sensation is overwhelming, the tip of his cock sliding past all of your sensitive spots, stimulating your nerves just the way you need him to. You feel every inch of him, the fullness making your body shiver with desire.
“God, you’re tight,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips harder. “You feel so fucking good.”
He begins to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one sending waves of pleasure through your body. The friction of his cock against your inner walls is intoxicating, and you can’t help but moan his name, the sound mingling with the rhythm of his movements.
“Sunghoon,” you gasp, your back contorting to fit him deeper, head thrown back as he bucks his hips at a steady, agonising pace. “Please, fuck me harder.”
Scoffing, he slows down, giving you the opposite of what you are needily begging for. “You think you deserve to make demands?” Sunghoon asks, his hands roaming along your back, fingers untucking your shirt and crawling up to your bare back. You’re lucky he let the slip of his name out of your mouth rather than his preferred nickname.
In truth, you don’t, constantly fucking up in your job to the point that it has come to this, but by god will you never get a single thing right if it means receiving this pleasure. Yet, right now, you need to yield, appeasing his every word.
“I don’t deserve it, Sir,” you admit, trying to fuck onto his cock faster. “But please, I’ll be so good if you do.”
Laughing, his large hand snakes around your neck and pulls you back roughly, bringing your head to rest on his shoulder as he fucks into you agonisingly slow yet sharp. His warm breath washes over your cheek as he smirks menacingly. “You’re already being a good girl, so what else will you do?”
“I’ll do my job properly, I’ll make sure I never disappoint you.” It’s not even the slightest bit embarrassing as you try your hardest to fuck yourself onto his cock, squeezing for extra friction as you bargain with him. All you need right now is to be pounded mercilessly by the man you crave the most.
Satisfied with your response, he finally obliges, his thrusts becoming faster and more intense, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. The pleasure builds with each movement, your body responding eagerly to his touch. You feel the tension coiling in your core, the edge of climax drawing closer with every thrust.
“Do you want to cum on your boss’ cock?” he asks mockingly, knowing your immediate answer.
You struggle to give him an answer as his grip on your throat tightens, his digits pressing into your soft neck and cutting off your voicebox, yet somehow, you manage to squeak out a tiny ‘yes’, followed by a throat-ripping moan as he finds your sweet spot.
Suddenly, your phone rings as you move your dildo rapidly in and out of your squelching cunt, the toy now covered in your juices as both you and it work hard to reach that sweet release. Heaving heavily, you see the caller ID ring and your eyes widen, the name ‘Park Sunghoon’ flashing across your screen.
Idiotically, you answer, scared of the reprimand if you don’t, your boss never liking when you answer after more than three rings. Before you get the chance to speak, he is already blaring down the phone at you.
“Y/N, I need you to come in early tomorrow. There is a big meeting with Park Jongseong that we must prepare for,” he begins, tone borderline scolding but not so angry. “Someone forgot to put it in my diary.”
The subtle dig at you only heightens your feelings, the actual scolding you’re receiving meshing in beautifully with your fantasies. Your hand never stops the dildo from thrusting harshly into you, his actual voice much colder and deeper than the one you have in your mind, your body aching for each Sunghoon in its own way.
You stifle a moan but it still leaks through into the speaker, your climax imminent as your wrist quickens and legs spread, the muscles of your thighs and arms tightening with your actions.
“Cum for me, baby” he commands, his voice rough with desire. “I want to feel you cum around my cock.”
“Are you sick? Don’t come in tomorrow if you are, I have to fly to Japan on Thursday.”
Each CEO blends into one another as you come undone, dropping the phone on your stomach and arching your back off the bed.
The words push you over the edge, and you cry out as the orgasm crashes over you, “Yes, Sir!” your body trembling with the force of it. You can feel your pussy clenching around his cock, the sensation driving him deeper into you. His thrusts become erratic, and with a final, deep thrust, he spills into you, filling you with his release. The hot spurts of his cum coat your battered walls so deliciously, soothing the rawness from the relentless beating.
The room is filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, the aftermath of your climax leaving you both spent and satisfied. Sunghoon pulls out slowly, his hands gentle as they caress your skin. He helps you stand, his touch tender as he pulls you into his arms.
“You did so well,” he murmurs, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Such a good girl.”
You pant heavily, forgetting for a moment exactly where you are and what you have done, the blurred line of delusion and reality becoming a haze as your eyes fight their way open, your high overcoming your body like a tidal wave
Clearing his throat with a deliberate rasp, Sunghoon's piercing gaze cuts through the haze clouding your senses, snapping you back to the stark reality of your surroundings. The weight of your actions descends upon you like a sudden storm, leaving you breathless and disoriented.
"Tomorrow at 6am, my office," he declares with a steely edge, each word measured and exact as he speaks with a smirk. The earlier rush of pleasure now dissipates into a cold knot of apprehension in your stomach. His voice carries a promise of consequences, leaving no doubt in your mind that he knows exactly what you’ve been doing.
"Do not keep me waiting," he continues, his tone low and ominous, "or you'll be punished.”
He hangs up abruptly, the chilling bleep of the disconnected call makes you swallow, realising that you have completely fucked up and have painted yourself guilty as sin.
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LITTLE LIGHTS. (4/5)
Maegor Targaryen x pregnant!niece!Reader
WORDS: 2 K
WARNINGS: childbirth, swearing, blink and you’ll miss Maegor being his cunty self again
NOTES: Here is the highly requested Part 2 of Precious Delights! Tbh, I haven't put much thought into the exact details, so most of it probably doesn't make any sene, but Reader is Rhaena's twin. Tyanna died before the wedding.
Tyanna of the Tower had been long dead before Maegor had claimed your hand in marriage and that alone seemed to be as fruitful as it was, since your pregnancy had lasted full ten moons.
You were exhausted beyond belief, pacing your chambers up and down with screams of despair and heavy groans leaving your throat at any contraction that rippled through your body. The maids had been calling for Maegor five times by now, but your husband was nowhere to be found.
“He is meeting with the small council, I fucking know!“ You groaned as the guard stepped into your chambers to inform you about his unsuccessful mission, your ladies-in-waiting taken aback by your sudden outburst for you had been notorious for nothing else but being soft-spoken and calm.
The maids, and Grand Maester Benifer, more often than not had advised you to lie down on your bed for reasons of comfort and safety, yet your body told you not to.
“Where is he really?” you hissed through gritted teeth when a particularly harsh contraction forced you to your knees, clinging to the bedpost as if your life depended on it. Clad in nothing more than a thin, white underdress, you still felt confined, the linen scratching your skin as you ached to tear it off your body.
Talisa rushed to your side, her gentle hand on the small of your back not mending your discomfort and the confusion and fear you felt at the thought of mastering the birth all by yourself. “We must begin, Princess,” she urged, and despite not being able to think straight at that point, you still heard the tinge of worry in her voice.
You threw your head back, groaning in agony as another contraction followed that forced you to push. Your arms clasped around the bedpost, your sweaty forehead resting against the wood, while you became busy focusing on pushing.
Too lost in the burning sensation of the babe’s head beginning to crown, you barely noticed the door to the chambers opening, revealing none other than your husband himself.
Your maid lifted the skirt of your underdress to gauge the process of the birth, paying much less attention to Maegor than you did, as your safety and well-being seemed to be her top priority. Or perhaps it was the well-being of the heir that concerned her most.
“Where have y–” The words caught in your throat at a harsh contraction and the heightened pain. Your knuckles turned white from how tightly you clung to the bedpost, your maid’s words not making it easier for you. “I can see the head, Princess, just a few more pushes.”
If it wasn’t for your mind dealing with all the different sensations coursing through your body at once, you surely would’ve noticed the way Maegor stood completely frozen in the doorway at your maid’s words.
“Please… make it stop,” you pleaded with a strained voice, clenching your jaw as you pushed once again. Then, the pain settled for a few moments, allowing you to steady your breath and calm down for the time being.
A sheen of sweat covered your skin, silver strands of your hair clinging to your face, and the white linen of your underdress was slightly dampened at your back and arms. You raised your head to lock eyes with Maegor, and the sheer audacity of him just standing there useless made your blood boil and soured your mood. “This is… this is all your fault,” you hissed through gritted teeth, though the words were interrupted by groans, “gods… you cunt!”
Perhaps the maester had informed him beforehand about what was going on in a woman’s body during her labors, or perhaps he was cunning enough to put one and one together, but he hardly took any offense to your harsh words. Quite the contrary happened, as the insult seemed to pull him out of his shocked state, prompting him to pass the maids and maester, dismissing all their efforts to talk and inform him about the process of the birth to crouch down beside you.
Talisa was flabbergasted by Maegor’s movements, her mouth agape with no words leaving her lips for a few seconds, before another scream of you brought her back to the task at hand. “Bear down and push, Princess,” she instructed, and you did as she told.
Maegor’s paw replaced the maid’s hand on your lower back, his other one raising to cup your folded hands, and you were quick to seize it to squeeze it instead, causing him to take in a sharp breath. “Just a few more,” he encouraged, and you merely groaned in despair. He could be lucky you were occupied by birthing him his long awaited heir, fulfilling your wifely duties, because otherwise you probably would’ve smacked him across his face.
When the pain got worse all of the sudden, you released a scream that was louder than the ones before, and pushed not once, but twice, until a sudden wave of relief washed over you and you heard the cries of the babe. It lived.
Your husband’s attention immediately shifted from you to the newborn, and when the maester cut the cord, Maegor forced him and the maid to usher the babe out of your reach. “What is it?” you asked, your voice weak from the exhausting procedure you had to endure.
But every sense of calmness and comfort washed away when another contraction soared through your body, and a scream of yours seized the attention of Talisa. “It’s the afterbirth,” she tried to reassure you, but her loud gasp proved otherwise, more so as she rose to fetch the maester.
The urge to bear down once again was too strong to ignore it, pushing yet again. “Gods,” you whimpered, tears running down your flushed and sweaty cheeks, “it hurts.”
Maegor towered over the maester, while he lifted the skirts of your underdress, to spot yet another head breach your body. “Another child,” he proclaimed, whereas you only groaned an ‘I can not do this again’ in your state of shock and pain.
But you could, and not many moments after, the second babe’s cries pierced through your agonizing groans and pants, only to be seized by your husband and the maester again. This time around, the maids tended to you, gripping your arms to help your weakened frame onto the large bed.
When the screams of both children grew silent, a certain uneasiness washed over your body, and you would’ve loved nothing more than to get up and grab both children to leave the goddamned Keep altogether. “Bring them to me,” you demanded, but when no one seemed to move to your orders, you merely managed to whine a desperate ‘please’.
Maegor was the first one to act, slowly creeping closer towards you. He held a bundle of linen in his arms, looking ridiculously small in comparison to his muscular chest and arms, and presented one babe to you. “A boy,“ he said, and you already smiled when you spotted the silver tuft of hair peeking from beneath the cloth. He bowed toward you to show you the small, scrunched face, and you reached forward to take him in your arms, but Maegor just tsked and pulled him back, “you’re too weak, my love, get some rest first.“
“My apologies, Your Grace,” Grand Maester Benifer came forward, looking at the King, “but at the Citadel they say that it’s best for the mother and the child to let it nurse right after birth.”
With a grim expression on his face, Maegor’s eyes darted to you for a moment. “That is what wet nurses are for.” At this point, your bottom lip trembled, realization settling in that you had been nothing more than a pawn to your uncle.
Grand Maester Benifer brought a hand to Maegor’s shoulder and ushered him a few steps away from you, their deep voices suddenly turning into whispers you could barely hear. “She has given you two healthy heirs, my King. You ought not risk her life, for she can give you even more.”
Maegor merely nodded at that, and when he turned around, the soft look in his eyes was unsettling you. He handed you the boy without any fuss, but didn’t leave your side as you pulled down the neckline of your underdress to free your breast and allow your child to latch. While his eyes were pale blue, you couldn’t wait for the day they’d be as lilac as yours, staring up at you with the same intensity they carried now. You smoothed his tuft of silver hair, the soft smacking and cooing while he swallowed your milk calming your worries and fear a bit.
In less than an hour after birthing twins, you had taken on a motherly aura that no doubt even softened the cold heart of your uncle-husband for he gently brushed the knuckle of his index finger over the small boy’s cheek. “I have named him Aerion,” Maegor stated matter-of-factly, and you just nodded, admiring the memorial of your great-grandsire.
“And the girl?” you asked, not able to tear your eyes from the delicate creature in your arms. “That is up to you,” your husband replied, and with a come hither motion of his fingers, the maid brought over another bundle of linen. That piqued your interest, and Maegor seemed to notice, since he pulled the cloth down enough for you to spot her scrunched face. She was just as beautiful as her brother. Despite her being barely an hour old, you spotted a few similarities to your grandaunt in her features, and hoped she would grow up to be as fierce as her. “Visenya.”
Maegor raised his brow at that, obviously not expecting you to name your daughter after his mother, but he welcomed the sentiment by pulling his lips into a soft smile that perhaps even sparked a hint of admiration and affection to flicker in his violet eyes.
Once the boy was done nursing, his place was taken by his sister, though you placed her so she latched on your other breast. The relief it brought you was unmatchable, and the peaceful, nurturing feeling the nursing granted made your heart swell with love.
“My sister has placed dragon eggs in the cradles of my younger siblings, and I want the same for our children,” you said, your fingers mindlessly dancing along the crown of the newborn’s head. “A clutch of eggs laid by Dreamfyre is still kept here in the Keep.”
You lifted your head to gauge where Maegor had taken Aerion, slightly panicked that you had seen the last of the boy, only to spot him sitting on a chaise not too far away with the sleeping boy cradled in his muscular arms. His head was bowed forward, and his whole attention was focused on his son. It was a moment of unusual softness, and you didn’t know he possessed a trait like that–or rather that he kept it up even after the children were born.
When he raised his head to meet your expectant gaze, he was quick to address the maids with a stern tone he had rarely used in your presence for the past few moons. “You have heard your Queen’s demands. Bring her the eggs, so she can choose the ones most suitable for your King’s heirs.”
You hadn’t noticed the silence surrounding you four before, maids and maester alike silenced in awe, and only appreciated it once it was gone with the hurried rustling and stomping from the staff exiting the room.
And when night overcame King’s Landing, two cradles carrying the most precious creatures standing in front of your marital bed, your uncle-husband joined you for the first time since the start of your pregnancy, sharing the bed with you without any bawdy intentions on his mind.
Ever since you were forced to leave your mother on Dragonstone to take Maegor’s hand in marriage, you felt at ease in the confines of the Red Keep, despite not knowing what the forthcoming summers might hold for you.
Maegor Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby
General Taglist: @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1
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Hi hi! Can I request a Toji x fem! Reader who’s really quiet in bed, because of an ex (like, maybe he tells her that the sounds she makes aren’t pleasant and things like that??)
OH MY GOD??!?!? HELLOOO!!! I'M FEELING SO SPOILED TODAY 🤭🤭 yes yes yes yes yes THANK YOU ANON 💗 it's a little angsty AGAIN (don't know what's up with me tbh) but very sweet
Don't Be Shy ★
Everything feels fragile. New feelings, new headspace, new man. Thinking about it made your stomach twist and turn in complicated bows... He's so handsome. So strong. So dreamy. God, what if I fuck it all up?
It was all new... the feeling of his hips grinding up into yours as you grip onto his strong, wide shoulders, biting down into your bottom lip to stop your sounds in their tracks.
"Mm fuck baby, you feeling good?" Toji's grunts and light tap on your hip pulls you from your flurry of worries.
"Uh yeah, yeah, it's really good, Toji." You mumble, feeling your breath hitch in your chest, attempting to hold back you gasps as the pressure of Toji's bulge crashes perfectly with your clit.
"Gotta tell me bubs... I don't know this pretty body yet. Gotta help me learn." He huffs out as your hands travel under his fitted black shirt.
You simply nod, feeling your cheeks warm up as you and Toji exchange the same warm air between quick breaths.
You feel yourself loosen up the wetter you get, biting onto the back of your hand and clenching your stomach, subtly compressing your moans.
Taking a deep breath, you work up the courage to at least talk.
"Okay, fuck okay, I want you inside please." Missing the way Toji smirks, you quickly get your sentence out as fast as possible before a moan can slip out, concentrating hard on keeping your voice as steady as possible.
"Alright, princess, c'mere." Toji flips you onto your back, gently tugging down your pants along with your soaked panties.
You cover your mouth as you feel Toji's hot breath on your quivering pussy, looking up at the ceiling.
Toji's good. Really good. You can tell simply by the way he operates that he's skilled. Experienced.
He's been with other girls. Seen other girls. Heard other girls. And all of a sudden, it all comes back to you.
"Uhm, you don't... you don't have to prep me or anything. We can just do it, I'll be okay." Pushing away his head when you realize he's about to taste you, you situate yourself, sitting up on your elbows.
Toji is shocked as he hovers above you, glaring in confusion.
"Are you sure? I really don't think that's a good idea bubba." Softly, he glides his middle and pointer finger along your slit, assessing if you were even close to being wet enough.
"No, no I'm sure. I'll be alright." Sitting up slightly, you paw at the waist band of his gray sweatpants, watching in delight as his cock strains against the fabric. Pulling them down, you distract him by grazing his tip with your delicate finger, making him shudder.
"Fuck~ alright babygirl..." He mumbles, laying you back down as your legs automatically spread, humping his veiny cock against your heat, getting it as wet as possible.
His sharp, commanding eyes focus on your face as he slowly pushes himself in, attempting to gage any type of reaction from you.
It burned. Really bad, it burned as he slowly stretched you out, feeling like you were being split in half at your core. You laid there quietly, softly breathing out as the pain subsided and pleasure picked up.
The physical and emotional intensity inside your chest suffocated you as Toji began thrusting into you, shallow and slow. It felt so good. He felt so good.
But you couldn't make a noise. You couldn't be ugly. You'd embarrass yourself, you'd turn him off. You'd ruin it.
"You always this quiet, doll? Makin' me nervous." Toji quirked his head to the side, less than pleased as he slid in and out of you and you just laid there, only sign of life being your blinking eyes.
"Yeah, I guess so." You mumble, praying he'd drop it. It's so humiliating. What's worse than being an ugly moaner? Your signs of pleasure are grating and unattractive... at least, that's what he said.
The last man you laid yourself out for, being totally vulnerable with, someone you thought was utterly attracted to you, no matter what. The sex was good... so good that you were moaning and whimpering under him.
God, he was so harsh. You never thought you would be so politely degraded after sex, all over the way you sound.
Tears well up in your distant eyes, and before you even feel it, Toji sees it.
"Shit! Shit, fuck are you okay? Are you hurt? What's wrong bub?" He pulls out of you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into his shoulder.
"No, nothing, nothing it's so stupid." You shake your head, wiping your tears as Toji cradles you.
"I should've known sweets, I'm sorry. You've been off. What's on your mind, pretty girl?" You feel the stress building up around you, a warm all-encompassing feeling breaking you down from the inside out.
"Don't want you to think I'm ugly." You whisper into his shoulder.
"Huh? Baby, I'm lookin' at you right now. You're beautiful, you know that." His dark eyebrows furrow as he looks you over.
"No, no. My voice. My sounds. I don't want you to think I sound bad... My ex... he said- he um said that ummm... God this is so embarrassing. Um he said that I sound bad... that I turned him off. So I don't want to um, I don't want you to be less attracted to me, 's all." You sob out, explaining yourself as shame overtakes you, dignity leaving your body through salted tears.
"Oh. What a dumb prick. Don't think about that ass. I want to hear you, you kidding me? Let me hear you... okay?"
Slowly, you nod, detaching yourself from Toji's shoulder, laying back down.
"Okay, bub?" Toji repeats, drawing sloppy circles on your clit with his bulbous head, coaxing a genuine, surprised gasp from your throat.
"Okay... okayy." You gently speak out, a long, staggered breath freeing itself from your system.
"Therrree we go, sweetheart. Just let it out. Such a pretty little girl." Keeping his thumb pressed to your sensitive clit, he slides himself back in, basking in pride as he hears the smallest moan slip from your pretty parted lips. Gotta start somewhere.
"Give it to me, baby," Was the only warning you got before Toji began hammering into your puffy little cunt, forcing gasps and moans from you. Quickly you move your hand up to your mouth to cover your embarrassment, but Toji grabs your wrist, pining it beside your ear.
"Fuck, fucckkk sounds so good baby. Pretty little moans." He praises as he kisses along your jaw, forcing himself deeper into you. He knows he hit your sweet spot when your most blissed-out noise filled the room, signaling to his brain the beginning of his orgasm, bubbling in the pit of his toned stomach.
"Keep moaning like that and I'm gonna fill you up. Fuck, gonna make me cum... you close, bubba? Come on, talk to me." His encouragement works you up even more, making you feel brave.
"Mhm yeah, 'm really close Toji. Wanna cum with you." You moan out as his thrusts increase, then completely still all at once.
Your voice. God, your voice. Just hearing it had Toji gripping onto your hips and cumming on the spot. His orgasm triggers yours, your confident moans almost making him hard again.
"So good. So beautiful. Pretty moans for a pretty girl." Toji grins, breaking the peaceful ambience of the room.
"Wanna hear you for the rest of my life, pretty."
Hope you enjoyed! Xoxo
Thank you so so much anon!! Kisses! 💕
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Little Things
|Masterlist|
Pairings: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: None!
TLDR: There are days when Alastor just doesn't want to be touched, and you totally understand that. You're one your best behavior to not touch Alastor. Surely, with such an attentive partner, no misunderstanding will occur.
My inbox is currently accepting requests. Feel free to ask for some stuff. I'm in a mood to write and create, so lend me your ideas and I'll bring them to words.
This is a drabble. It's weird not to make full one-shots tbh, but meh, wasn't in the mood to make this a whole one-shot.
It’s the little things, really.
Alastor sits towards the edge of the bar, his stool nudged just a fraction farther than usual. Charlie leans forward, eyebrows furrowed as she rants about this and that and this and that.
Tentacles slither out the shadows, wrapping themselves around the legs of Alastor’s stool. No one really notices when the tentacles pull him another fraction farther away.
Or, how just this morning, Alastor took time out of his day to grab a bowl, and carefully place the three eggs Niffty asked for. The bowl slides across the table instead of being placed into her tiny hands.
See? The little things.
Heh . . .
You deserve a pat on the shoulder, honestly. Because what a considerate partner you are! Alastor didn’t even have to mention the slightest discomfort, yet still, you know he’s in ‘no touch!’ mode.
That’s why, for the entire day, you’ve been supporting Alastor’s ‘No-Touch’ day.
The rest of Hell’s day goes something like this:
Alastor asks you to hand him his coat.
And like the considerate partner that you are, you hand it to him. Although, you do have to bite your cheek to stop yourself from helping him wear the thing.
If it were any other day you would wrap it around his shoulders, and hold the back as he slips it around his arm. Then you would trail your fingers across his lapels to adjust its fit. Maybe, even give his bowtie a slight tug.
But you are a very, very, good partner.
So, your hands are kept to yourself, and the coat is placed on the table with a smile.
The devil seems keen on tempting you, but no, you are not giving in. (If you were in the garden, not even the devil himself could make you eat that apple.)
It’s been quite the productive day, and you definitely deserve an award! Not once have you touched Alastor, not have you stepped a foot into his personal space. It’s been difficult if you were being honest, but oh, well.
Maybe you’ll buy yourself a sweet, little treat for being such a considerate partner to Alastor. He’s quite lucky. Very few are as kind as you are, and even less are as attentive to his needs.
Just like right now.
There’s a gaping space between your bodies. It’s an easy thing to place yourself on the edge of the bed, careful not to roll and wrap your arms around Alastor.
Really, an award is in —
Alastor shoots up the bed, his note turned into the air with a scowl. “I refuse to keep playing this childish game,” he says, huffing at you. “I’ve been waiting all day for you to sort it out, but I’ve had enough.”
“Dearest . . .” You blink at him, pushing yourself up to sit as well. “I . . . What?”
His lips twist, and once more he huffs. It reminds you of a buck. “I would rather that you tell me that you’re upset with me instead of doing these ridiculous little things.”
“Ridiculous?”
“Ridiculous and childish!” Alastor points a finger at you, and there’s this petty voice urging you to chomp it off for such an audacity. “Do not confuse me for a fool, dearest. You’ve been avoiding me all day.”
“Well, of course, I have!” you say. “You’ve been in a mood since the moment you woke up. The cat almost got its tail bitten for rubbing between your legs.”
Alastor stares at you, an incredulous look on his face. “Ridiculous,” he tells you. “You are, absolutely, ridiculous.”
“I think you mean ‘considerate’.”
He flops back down to the bed, then rolls to you like some fucking child. Alastor keeps rolling until you don’t know whose limbs belong to who. His fingers curl around your shirt as he buries his weight deeper into you.
It’s the little things, remember? Like how you reach out to play with the strands of his hair until you’re finally combing through.
“I thought you were in a mood.”
“I am,” Alastor tells you, and deeper and deeper and deeper he goes. “All day I’ve been wanting nothing but this, yet you were so quick to deny me.”
“Don’t your moods usually require personal space?”
Alastor pulls you even closer, until your personal space becomes his as well. “This belongs to me,” he says. “And I don’t appreciate it being taken away from me.”
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