#How To Treat A Hoarse Voice

[eiightysixbaby]

older!eddie with reader who’s never taken a cock as big as his. he’s used to people telling him he’s too big, to go slow, that they can’t take it. and so he’s trying to be so careful with you, but you’re relentless in your determination to take him.

his fat, leaking tip presses inside, spreading you open as your jaw goes slack. he pushes maybe an inch or two in, but you’re so damn tight around him and he knows it has to be hurting you. he starts to ease up, to pull out a little, but your thighs lock around his waist, caging him desperately in.

“n-no, ed please. please don’t stop, keep going, need you to keep going,” you babble, your pretty eyes glossy as they plead with him.

“christ, sweetheart,” he grunts. “it’s hurtin’ you, don’t wanna hurt you.”

“i don’t care, please,” you beg, “can’t you feel how wet i am for you? need you so bad.”

he thinks he’s gone delirious with the things you’re saying, his tongue feeling like it’s going to flop out of of mouth, like he’s some dog drooling over a treat. he feels like a damn teenager, his hormones on overdrive. he can feel how wet you are, the hand that’s been gripping his shaft brushing against your slick folds to prove it.

“okay, okay, sweet thing. ‘m gonna take care of you,” he promises, his cock intruding further.

you’re whimpering pitifully beneath him, wriggling your hips for more friction, desperate to have more and unwilling to take no for an answer. he could split you entirely in two and it wouldn’t phase you. in his entire life he’s never had someone this needy for his cock, this hellbent on stuffing all of him inside, and he’s struck dumb at the fact that the person who is is you, this sweet young thing.

he can feel your walls clenching around him, relaxing and then tightening once more. “baby,” he pants, his nose brushing against your cheek as he presses a ghost of a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “you sure you can take it all? it’s okay if you can’t,” he reassures, but you’re frankly hearing none of it.

“eddie,” you whine. “I want it all, I’m gonna take it,” you insist. “please,” you sound as if you may cry, “just ruin me. don’t care if I can’t walk for days, give it to me.”

his head spins, his brow furrowing as he presses himself deeper, his cock snug inside of your warm walls. you cry out, biting down on his shoulder, nails digging into the tattooed skin of his back to brace yourself.

��god, you’re such a desperate little thing,” he says, his voice deep and hoarse, strained with the way he holds himself back from pounding into you.

you’re nearly sobbing when you speak again, “make it fit, ed, need it to.”

he finally secures himself all the way in, to the balls, leaning down to kiss your neck as your cunt throbs around him. “there you go, baby. that’s all of it. y’want me to make you cum around this cock?” he asks, the low rumble of his voice making you ache.

“yes,” you say softly, lip wobbling.

“what was that? couldn’t hear you, baby.”

“yes, eddie!” you cry, nearly aggressive in tone. “make me cum, over and over, don’t care if it fucking wrecks me.”

and it’s the last confirmation eddie needs before he makes you see stars.

[uranodioningin]

In Star Trek VI you can see David Warner's (Chancellor Gorkon's) skin mottling, and it is mimicked pretty well on the prosthetic. There is shading, and the splotching of old age. The wrinkles of his real skin also appear around his ridges, thin and spiderweb-y like real wrinkles from age.

Robert Wisdom (Dak'Rah) also has some signs of age on his bare skin, splotching and wrinkles, but they have been pretty well covered by makeup, leaving only a few deep lines around the eyes and no fine wrinkles anywhere. The prosthetic, on the other hand, is solid unbroken brown. There are no wrinkles, no dimples, no liver-spots. The colour is matched very well to his overall skin tone, but lacks texture, both of pigment and surface.

In short, Gorkon's prosthetic looks like old skin stretched over cartilage or bone, and Dak'Rah's prosthetic looks like a carapace.

STAR TREK VI: THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY STAR TREK: STRANGE NEW WORLDS 2.08

[augustinewrites]

the dull throb resonating over your entire body is what eventually rouses you, slowly bringing you back into consciousness. your head feels like a sword’s been driven through it, leaving your mind muddled.

the first thing you see is satoru hunched over your bedside, his hand carefully clutching yours. you call his name, but your voice is hoarse and scratchy and barely above a whisper.

he hears you regardless, eyes wide and alert as he lifts his head. he looks tired, dark circles stamped under his eyes and an unusual stiffness in his movements.

“you’re…okay,” he says, strained. as if he can’t believe it. you hum in response - because it’s all you can manage at the moment - feeling your eyelids begin to droop your will. “get some more rest. i’ll call shoko.” 

the gentle brush of his lips against your forehead is the last thing you feel before drifting back to sleep.

_____

you’re not sure how much time has passed when you come to. now, the room is illuminated by honeyed lamplight and you see shoko and satoru talking quietly at the foot of your bed. 

“glad to see you’re still with us,” your best friend smiles once she notices you’re awake. she moves to your side, leaning over you to pull back the thin blanket. there’s a swathe of bandages wrapped around your shoulder and a sling immobilizing your arm. 

“how do you feel?” satoru asks, that worried look still set in his expression. 

“i‘m fine,” you manage to answer, trying to blink the room into focus.

“you need to be more careful,” shoko tells you, peeling her gloves off and tossing them into the trash. the usual air indifference in her voice is gone, replaced with concern. “take satoru with you next time. not because i think you’re incapable of doing your job, but so he can do the corny, heroic thing and take the hit for you. god knows he could stand to be humbled every once in a while…” 

“thanks, shoko,” your boyfriend scoffs, but the way his hand grips yours tightly tells you he’d be more than willing to be your corny hero. 

you hate the way they look down at your prone form as shoko goes over your treatment plan. it makes you feel small and weak, and you are neither of those things. 

“can you help me sit up?”

“you shouldn’t be moving around–” 

your body burns with protest as you awkwardly push yourself up anyway, exhaling a pained hiss as gojo swears, reaching out to help steady your trembling torso as shoko shoves pillows behind your back. 

“i’m fine,” you argue, trying to ignore the throbbing behind your temples. you don’t remember exactly how you’d ended up in the school’s infirmary, just remember the way pain had exploded across your left side when you’d been hit.  

“you almost weren’t,” he says quietly. a deeply haunted look clouds his face as he recalls what must have happened after you’d been brought in, and you feel guilty for not being able to remember it. 

so you let him squeeze into bed next to you, let him carefully pull you into his chest and hold you until you feel the tension in his body dissipate. you know he needs this a little more than you do, know that the knowledge of you being okay isn’t enough. it won’t stop the fear and anxiety of losing you from gnawing on the edge of his sanity.

“i wanna give the flowers–”

“so you can take all the credit? i’m the one who bought them!”

your pained grimace easily turns to a smile when the door opens to reveal megumi and tsumiki, who are both gripping a bouquet of flowers. nanami follows them in, wearing the tired look of a man that’s never spent more than three hours dealing with moody preteens raised by gojo – until today.

_____

your family spoils you over the next few days. the three of them falling asleep on the little couch in your room, tucked under gojo’s arms every night until you’re cleared to go home. even then, they don’t leave your side. tsumiki snuggles next to you to watch movies and bakes you little treats. megumi reads to you from the book you’d been going through together and listens to your favourite records with you after school. 

satoru posts himself by your side. you like having him around. like the gentle way he handles you when working through the stretches shoko prescribes. like watching the way his hands move he diligently slices wedges of fresh fruit. 

you like being the focus of his single-minded attention, but you know how restless he can get when he doesn’t go off to work. rightfully so, because the jujutsu world would probably fall apart without him.

“you can go if you want,” you say one day, when he gets off a phone call with yaga. “i’ll be okay for a few hours.” 

he doesn’t get up, instead beginning to peel a plump orange (you’d never noticed how nice his hands were until now). “no, nanami’s still covering for me.” 

“satoru,” you sigh, taking an orange slice from him. “there’s a lot going on, you have bigger fish to fry.”

“i’m not going anywhere,” he tells you firmly, looking like he’d physically fight the idea of leaving your side. “you’re my fish.”

[koenigami]

not sure if you allow it, but how does wriothesly react when the reader uses their safe word during an intense session?

tags : fem!reader, smut, crying, use of safeword, aftercare, comfort, +18

It's hot in the room, the constant gurgling of the pipes reminding you that WRIOTHESLEY must have turned up the heating higher than usual. Then why is your body shivering, with goosebumps all over your skin? You can't see him, can't hear him because he has barely talked to you ever since he's returned from his office. Yet you feel his large, intimidating form loom over your body from behind. You can't speak, can barely breathe with his constricting hand around your throat that somehow seems to get tighter by every passing second.

He's immune to your whimpers, to the tears rolling down your cheeks. With each forceful thrust of his, you hear the bed creak and feel your knees get weaker, your body loosing strength until you're nothing but a limp toy for him. You want to get up, push him away, but the grip his other hand has on your wrists while holding them behind your back- He's just too strong.

That's when even the last ounce of pleasure leaves your body and you're left with nothing but dread and panic. "Red, p-please." you barely recognise your own voice, hoarse and frightened. "No more, please, red."

The pressure on your windpipes is gone instantly. You realise it, not by the oxygen that is easier entering your airways, no, because you still feel like you're suffocating. You realise it because his warmth is as well gone in an instant. W-Where did he go?

Rough hands are all over your body, yet they treat you with so much care, helping you turn and lie on your back, soothing down your thighs. One of them at last settles on your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing it and wiping the tears away. "Y/n? Sweetheart, you with me?"

You sniffle and press the heels of your palms against your eyes, your chest shaking with more sobs that won't stop racking your body. "I'm sorry, 'm so sorry. I-I don't even know-"

"No, no, don't apologise. There's nothing to be sorry for." Your brain still feels foggy as you finally look over at Wriothesley who's crouching beside the bed, giving you enough space to breathe yet still having his hands all over you, not wanting to let you go. Nonetheless, you're able to notice the tension in his posture, in his facial expressions. "Just try to relax, alright? You're okay now." his hand shifts to your hair, fingers combing through the messy strands until they settle on your scalp, soothingly massaging you there. "You did good. It was too much, wasn't it?"

"Couldn't breathe." you whisper and realise that you feel so small in his presence, but not in an inferior way. Wriothesley may look all brutish and intimidating with a strength that could crush any allegedly impenetrable door in the fortress, but you're well aware that he would never use that strength against people that he cares about. "And, uhm-"

Piercing blue eyes watch as you nervously fiddle with the blanket that he has covered you with. But the little peck he gives you on your shoulder tells you that he wants to let you have a breather and take as much time as you need to sort your thoughts. "You seemed a-angry. You were so quiet and, I don't know. It was..."

"Scary?" he finishes for you, a gentle and reassuring smile plastered on his face that alleviates the pressure on your chest.

"Yeah."

Silence invades the bedroom for a short moment, making you forget that you're miles beneath the water surface, that the room which you share with him belongs to a prison, that a few moments prior your body has been in a fight-or-flight mode. The silence reminds you that you're safe and that all of this, all of him, is home. "Will you come back to bed? And hold me?"

Wriothesley's eyes soften at your request and the timid sound of your voice. "Of course, my love." His knees pop when he eventually gets up, pressing a fleeting kiss on your temple before he picks his pants up from the floor and puts them on. Despite the previous events, you can't help but feel a light heat creep up your neck when you get a sight of his naked buttocks.

"Careful with those wandering eyes. I might think you want to continue where we left off." Wriothesley chuckles when you pull the blanket over your head, a futile attempt to hide your embarrassed expression.

"Come here." the mattress dips beside you and you let him tug the blanket off your head. The warmth and smell of his make you sigh in contentment once he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. "I'm the one who should apologise. I was not aware of how much I was hurting you."

The teasing smirk and brief leisurely attitude are gone, replaced by a seriousness that you usually only get to see when he's handling work related matters. He kisses your face again and again, further silent apologies that he hopes will lessen the pain inside your chest. And his. "I was a little irritated, yes, but that had nothing to do with you. Some inmates got their hands on a few bottles of wine." he explains. "Those drunkards started spewing lots of nonsense when I confronted them about it."

What did they say?" you inquire quietly, your eyes slowly but surely feeling heavier. With a palm against his naked chest, you notice the rapid heartbeat but decide to not give it any mind, since Wriothesley's tender strokes along your back are truly not making it easy for you to stay awake and think straight.

He stops his movements for a short moment, clenching and unclenching his fist as his eyes trail over the red, irritated skin of his knuckles.

"Your grace has turned quite soft." "Your little mouse must be doing a great job in bed, huh?" "Why don't you lend her to us? I'm sure we could teach her a thing or two?"

"Nothing you should worry your head about." his voice is merely a whisper as his lips move against your forehead before he buries his nose in your hair and resumes to trace more soothing shapes on your lower back.

a/n : thank you for your patience, dear anon! hope you'll see this since your request has been sitting for a while in my inbox-

[hildergard]

Could you do something where Aemond is already married/betrothed to a highborn lady that’s been approved by Alicent and Otto but he has a relationship with a low born woman (a brothel worker or any lowborn really) and once he becomes Prince Regent he starts bringing her around the castle, giving her a room to herself, treating her better than how a lowborn should be treated in Alicent and Ottos eyes and they don’t like it but Aemond doesn’t care.

MINE TO PROTECT ★ AEMOND TARGARYEN

PAIRING | Aemond Targaryen x Lowborn!Reader

TAGS | Suggestive content, swearing, possessive behaviour, classism

WORDCOUNT | 4k

NOTE | I have seen a lot of fanfictions where the Reader is a brothel worker so I made her a baker instead. I hope that's alright with you! Thank you so much for this great request! I had so much fun writing it <333

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

In the seedy streets of Flea Bottom, rumours travelled in a precise order, memorised by all.

A Lord, drunk with lust, would disclose the Crown’s secrets to a simpering whore, who would be quick⏤once the gold dragons were in her purse⏤to repeat what she had just heard, noble semen still running down her thighs. The other, much less wealthy, customers would then talk about it loudly in bars, attracting the attention of patrons who, once sober, had only to spread the news.

Today, the rumour burst into your little shop when Old Gerald came through the door, looking for his daily loaf of bread. 

 “Prince Aemond’s been made Regent," he said. 

For a second, you did not move. The dough fell on wood. Your floured hands remained stuck in the sticky, flabby mixture. It would have to be kneaded again. The sight of your dirty fingers woke you from your torpor. You gripped the towel from your apron and wiped your palms roughly before turning your back on your customer⏤less to get the fresh loaves of bread out of the oven than to regain your composure.

He had done it. 

Your shovel rasped against the burning slab of clay and peeled off the loaves. 

A few days earlier, when night had enveloped the citizens of King's Landing in its thick cloak, he had told you of his plans and dreams⏤the two were always intertwined, for Aemond Targaryen provoked fate rather than waited for it. His touch had done nothing to soften the brutality of his words. Sordid tales of fire and blood, the kind that filled the tomes of the Citadel. 

Even the Targaryens could not play with fire indefinitely. Aemond rose in the flames. For how much longer? You had protested, your voice hoarse from the moans he had managed to draw from your throat, but he would have none of it and simply told you to trust him, as if all this were far too complicated for you. 

And perhaps that was the case, for what did you know of war and power?

“What about his Majesty?" you asked.

Old Gerald tossed you three coppers, which you pocketed, before handing you a thick piece of cloth. 

“They say he perished in dragonfire. Seems Targaryens are closer to men, after all. With all this quarrel for t'throne, it were inevitable. And, let me tell you, it'll happen again. Today, a brother sits on t'throne. Tomorrow, it'll be an uncle or a sister. Things like that never end.”

You carefully wrapped the golden loaf in the cloth. 

“Wi' Rhaenyra in Dragonstone and his brother's heir dead, he’ll no doubt be crowned King. And the Lady Baratheon, Queen.”

You winced at the name but immediately hid your reaction with a tight smile. Gerald, bless him, took no notice of your torment. You handed the loaf of bread to the old cobbler, who nodded at you and returned to his shoes. 

The rumour ran on and kept you thinking all day. You burnt a dozen loaves of bread, spilt two sacks of flour and forgot to deliver her apple pies to Dorthy Porter, making you lose a silver stag and a customer.

When the key finally turned in the lock of the shop and cut you off from the rest of the world, your shoulders slumped. The sun and all its problems gave way to the moon. Under its silvery eyes, other rumours would no doubt spread but you did not wish to hear them. You longed for your straw mattress and the comfort of your dreams⏤perhaps your love would visit you there, also freed from the pressure the Gods were piling on his shoulders. 

Tiredness weakened your knees⏤you dragged your body more than you climbed the stairs to your modest bedroom. In the middle of the room, the bed and its pillow stretched out its arms to you. You let yourself fall into the feathery embrace and closed your eyes for a moment, praying to the Gods that you would find sleep easily. 

They ignored you. 

The doorbell rang. 

Your eyelids struggled to open. Sleep paralysed them⏤it clutched at your eyelashes and tried to keep them closed but you fought the temptation and, at last, gazed into the dim light of the room. Another series of blows, more hurried, struck against the wood. The whole  shop seemed to shake. 

“I’m coming, I'm coming…” you mumbled. 

You gasped as two members of the Kingsguard appeared on your doorstep, their cloaks far too white to be dragged through the muddy streets of Flea Bottom. 

“The Prince Regent, His Highness Aemond Targaryen, summons you.”

They did not care for your reply and seized you. You protested, demanded to be told the reason for this summon, but nothing would do. The guards dragged you like a rag doll through the streets of King's Landing, indifferent to your screams and struggle. Above and around you, the candlelight in the windows intensified. Some people poked their heads out to watch the racket. You lowered your chin and remained silent, but the damage had been done. 

Already, rumours were spreading. The baker had been arrested. What had she done? Who would make their bread from now on?  

The dizzy shadow of the Red Keep loomed larger and larger. Just the outline of it made your skin crawl. For the first time, you would be treading on the floor of Kings and Queens. You were being plunged headfirst into this unknown, powerful and dangerous place, populated by men and women who despised people like you. One of the guards tightened his grip around your arm. You yelped. Why were they taking you there? Aemond always came to you, not the other way round. 

Did someone know? You blanched. Impossible, you thought immediately. You had been cautious. 

But what if... What if someone had seen you, despite all your precautions? 

 Were they taking you to the Keep to put you to the sword?  

 A flash of fear stabbed you in the guts.  

You finally passed through the large gates of the castle. They were still open, yet, no one was in the courtyard. The swords were resting on the workbenches and the horses were asleep. Only a few guards patrolled the ramparts, their heads turned skywards in search of a dragon. 

“Hurry up, girl. The Prince is waiting.”

A solitary, proud figure emerged at the top of the stairs, in front of the entrance. His long white hair fluttered in the wind and the bluish moonlight accentuated his strict features and pale complexion. The mere sight of his face reassured you. You defied the guards and walked towards him. 

His rough hand⏤hardened by duty and war⏤gripped yours before thin lips kissed it. The Prince pulled you towards him. Your heart slowed as his familiar scent enveloped you and your shoulders relaxed. For a second, you surrendered to the comfort of his warmth and love. The smell of musk and leather soothed your body, but your head kept its wits about it.

“What's happening, Aemond?”

He closed his eye as his name fell from your lips and smiled. His hand came down and grasped your waist in a possessive embrace. You leaned into the touch. 

“There are rumours that Aegon–”

You squeaked. His fingers had dug painfully into your flesh at his brother's name. 

The mere mention of him brought back painful and humiliating memories, which your lover had confided to you, his head on your pillow. Even today, the wounds had not healed. They continued to transpire in every aspect of his life. You are the only thing he has not stolen from me, he had told you one night. Saying that name was like throwing his past back in his face and breaking your promise. He'll never succeed, you had replied, but today, Aegon was on your mind. What did his wound mean for the Crown, for you?

“Is it true?" you managed to articulate. 

“The Council has made me Regent," he nodded. “We will not need to hide any longer, my love.”

“What do you mean?”

But Aemond did not answer you. He smiled, tucked a lock of hair behind your ear and let his fingers brush your neck. With a nod, the kingsguards left. The clink of their armour echoed for long seconds, but the din faded with the tenderness of his gestures. His finger traced the veins in your chest. They led him to your breasts, hidden by your dress. Aemond grunted⏤terribly offended by this affront⏤and pulled at the fabric but it held on. 

Claere Linstar's work was reknown throughout Flea Bottom. You could not find a better weaver⏤today, you were thankful for the two silver stags you had spent. The garment would become the guarantor of your dignity, the bulwark against your desire. 

When you realised that your Prince was not going to answer your question, you took a step back. His hand fell limply between the two of you as a brief look of pain clouded his face. 

“Aemond?”

He straightened up and held out his hand to you. 

“Follow me.”

The labyrinthine corridors made your head spin. You lost count of the turns you took, the staircases you climbed and the alcoves you passed. The beauty of the mouldings and frescoes drew admiring sighs from you several times, but Aemond did not care. He walked past them without giving them a second glance. He's used to all this, you reminded yourself. People of his rank bathed in this luxury and grandeur since birth.  

On the way, maids dressed in red and white stopped at your sight. Their gaze fell on your face, on your body, on your hand locked in the Prince's... Your cheeks heated and you tried to pull away, but Aemond tightened his grip. Out of habit, his thumb caressed your skin. This time, his touch only made you tense. You bowed your head, ashamed. 

They knew. 

The thought stayed with you. 

You only lifted your head when Aemond stopped in front of an ornate door. The mouldings curved into flowers and birds⏤an ode to spring and renewal. Your eyes swept the decor, stopped on a bush of camellias and, finally, met the Prince's satisfied gaze. 

“We've arrived," he announced. 

Aemond opened the door with a confident gesture. Inside, an immense room stretched out and seemed to never end. Wealth oozed out of every corner, from the four-poster bed to the dressing table adorned with sapphires. On the wall, frescoes of flowers had been painted to match the powder pink drapes⏤an explosion of colour that turned drab the corridors you had been raving about just a few minutes before. 

“Is it to your taste?”

You turned back to Aemond. Although his chin was up and his back was straight⏤proud as ever⏤red bloomed on his cheeks. Your lover seemed embarrassed, a far cry from his usual composure. Almost timidly, his hand sought yours. He couldn't help it, you realised. His fingers always found yours⏤skin against skin to find what he had been deprived of all his childhood. 

“I don't know anyone who wouldn't like it," you replied.

“Hmm. Good.”

He pulled you to him. His hands went down to your buttocks and pressed you against his chest. Your pelvises collided. Suddenly, the room made sense. You let yourself drown in these familiar gestures. Your hand caressed his muscular shoulders, moved up to his jaw and brushed against his lips. Aemond kissed the pad of your thumb before replacing it with your lips. Soon, the wet sound of saliva echoed through the room. The sweet melody ignited a fire in your lower abdomen and moved down between your thighs. 

Your hand resumed tracing arabesques on your lover's smooth skin. It stopped at the buttons on his doublet and hastily undid them before wandering lower and lower…

Aemond stopped you before you could take him in your hand. His hand grabbed yours. He kissed your palm and pressed it against his cheek. 

“These will be your quarters.”

The fire went out, leaving you frozen with shock. Your heart skipped a beat. 

“What do you mean?" you asked breathlessly.

“Now that I am Regent, we will not have to hide any more.” 

A new glare lit up his eye. Purple turned black and made you shiver. Flames seemed to dance in his pupil, crushing all remains of the second son he had once been. That Aemond was dead. In his place was a Regent who thought himself above laws and men.  

“It's not proper, Aemond," you tried to protest. “If it gets out that I'm here... If the Dowager Queen or the Hand–”

“They have no say in the matter. My word is law now.”

 “If you want me here… Perhaps I could serve the Crown, join the kitchens. Anything but that, Aemond," you said, gesturing to those quarters, far too luxurious for someone of your breeding. 

“You do not belong in the fucking kitchens," he scoffed. “No. You will be by my side, as my equal.”

“You're engaged," you retorted. “The Lady Baratheon won't take kindly to my presence here. You nobles can make Small Folk disappear in a blink of an eye and no one would notice or care.”

Alira Merchin's story was remembered as a cautionary tale for young girls naive enough to think love could conquer blood. The fable was classic⏤hundreds of similar romances filled libraries, and perhaps it was these very ones that had encouraged the girl to seduce the heir of House Harte. The man fell in love and made the pretty merchant his lover. 

This did not please his wife, the daughter of Lord Chelsted. 

She got rid of the merchant with disconcerting ease. The poor girl was found trampled by horses in white and green bards. That day, Lord Harte lost his true love and spent the rest of his life suffering the consequences of his betrayal. 

Your heart dropped. What would happen to you if you tickled the stag? Ours if the Fury. Their motto was an ode to their rage, to their thirst for violence. If Floris Baratheon found out that Prince Aemond was bedding you... and in the Keep nonetheless…

The storm would come for you and you would perish in its eye. 

“It's not a good idea, Aemond," you finally said. 

“Do not fret, my love. Nothing will happen to you as long as I am here to protect you.”

The Prince pulled you into bed. 

Your protests died on your lips, muffled by moans and the exquisite feel of his skin against yours. 

Your fingers tightened around your thighs. The soap made your skin slippery but did nothing to wash away the shame that had been clinging to it for days. It colonised your flesh and left it tainted, eating away at your muscles and weighing down your heart. 

On the first day, after a passionate night, maids had arrived to prepare you, but you refused their care. You were no Lady. You had bathed alone all your life and would continue to do so. More than anything, you wanted to escape their watchful eyes, which would no doubt have noticed the hickeys on your chest and thighs. 

You did not know how rumours got around in the Keep, but you were sure that they first burgeoned on the maids’ lips. They blossomed as quickly as in Flea Bottom⏤the inquisitive nature of man was innate⏤, but it would not be Old Gerald getting wind of it. No. The stakes were much higher in these parts, and the consequences even more dire. 

The door to your quarters stood in the way of the horror surely awaiting you, but for how much longer? 

Your hands massaged your calf, hoping to rediscover a cherished routine. You longed for the feel of dough beneath your fingers. What would become of your shop? Would you have to sell it? Maybe someone had already moved in⏤abandoned houses never stayed so for long in Flea Bottom, the cradle of the poor and the homeless. 

You could not cherish the roof above your head, yet, you supposed you had to learn to appreciate it. Aemond did not seem eager to let you go.  

Aemond. 

Every day, the sun tore him away from you. His hours were devoted to the Small Council and military strategies, only half of which you understood when he explained them to you. Your Prince needed to talk, to get rid of the weight that was arching his back. You became the shoulder on which he rested, the ear into which he poured his doubts, the flesh in which he forgot himself. 

“I wish to be with you every hour of the day, to attach myself to your side, but the Gods will only grant me this pleasure when I win this war. I am fighting for you⏤for us,” he had told you. 

The moon brought him back into your arms. Every night, without exception, he would cross the threshold of the door and wrap you in a reassuring embrace. His arms would block out your gloomy thoughts and chase away shame and regret⏤all seemed worth it if it kept him close to you. The stars looked down on your love. When the bells rang the hour of the owl, you indulged in the pleasures of the flesh, whispered sweet nothings or simply enjoyed the peaceful silence that the other's presence guaranteed. Sometimes, Aemond, lying on the bed with your head on his stomach, would read you stories with his hand buried in your hair. 

And then, the hour of the Nightingale would sound, its tranquillity burning away in the first rays of sunlight. The enchanted interlude would close and you would spend the day dreaming of a life where sun and duty did not separate you. 

Shame would reappear, its weight with it, and fear⏤tangible and vibrant⏤would turn your stomach. 

The spectre of Floris Baratheon never left you. It haunted you. In the frescoes of camellias on the wall. In the bouquets of flowers dotting your quarters. In the venison served for dinner. The tales of her beauty reached you and left you bitter, but what they said about her quiet authority made your blood run cold. 

She would come for you. 

The Lady Baratheon occupied all your thoughts, so much so that you forgot about another much more dangerous threat. 

One day, Alicent Hightower stalked into your room. 

You dropped your embroidery in your lap and hastily sat up. The needle fell to the floor with a disturbing chime. The bell was tolling⏤this farce had gone on far too long and it would now end. 

The Dowager Queen dropped a small leather bag on the table. Its contents clinked and masked your gasping breath for a second. Your heart was pounding against your temples. Soon, the air would run out. Already your throat was closing up and you were struggling to swallow. 

“What is it?" you asked weakly. 

“Five thousand gold dragons. Enough to buy you a new life, far from the Keep, far from Westeros.”

Away from my son, she meant. 

“I won't leave Aemond.”

He needs me, you thought. 

“The Prince Regent does not need you," the Queen scoffed as if she could heard your mind. “He is engaged. Or have you forgotten that? Whoring yourself in the way you do… It would appear so. Have you thought about the repercussions of your actions when people find out about you? The risks it means for Aemond? Your very presence here jeopardises this entire war.”

“I have tried to–”

“He does not love you, you fool. He just wants a cunt to fuck without having to spend a single penny.”

You recoiled, surprised to hear the famously pious queen speak so vulgarly. 

War transformed souls. It made them ugly. Alicent Hightower’s wide eyes and pursed lips twisted her face into a terrifying expression. 

She sighed and, for a moment, her features became those of a compassionate woman. 

“I don't know what… hold my son has over you," she continued in a calmer voice, “but you seem smart enough to understand this will end badly. You must leave. Take the gold and let us be done with this farce.”

The door slammed against the wall before you could even consider the proposal. 

Aemond reached your side with a confident stride. 

“What's going on here? Mother?”

When the latter did not answer, he looked to you for answers. You lowered your head, unable to bear the look of concern in his purple eye any longer. 

It fell lower, onto the table and the leather purse.  

“What is the meaning of this?” he raised his voice. 

Silence stretched before Alicent Hightower relented. 

“You cannot… support a lowborn in such manners, Aemond. The girl must go.”

The Prince ignored his mother and took you in his arms. His nose nestled under your ear as his hands buried themselves in your hair. He guided your head into his neck and whispered comforting words, which you could not hear. You did not care. His familiar scent embraced you and brought tears to the corners of your eyes. They wet your cheeks and his collar. 

You should never have come here. 

“Out.”

His mother protested. 

“Imagine the shame for your future wife, the Lady Baratheon! For her house! If we lose Storm's End because of... because of this w–” 

“Hold your tongue and leave.”

“Aemond, if you do this, we are lost!”

“Get out!”

Footsteps retreated. A door slammed. Aemond sighed. His hand drew abstract symbols on the back of your head for a moment before encouraging you to look at him. 

“Oh, my love," he said, seeing your misty eyes. “All is well now. She will not hurt you any more.”

The danger you had put yourself in was greater than you had thought. Fear dried your mouth and exhausted your words. You stammered a few excuses before taking a deep breath. Your Prince's fingers did not weaken. They continued to comfort you and, at last, gave you the courage you needed to finally speak. 

“Maybe I should return to Flea Bottom. I–” 

“No," Aemond’s voice cracked. 

His hands framed your face and pulled you closer until your noses were touching. 

“You are not leaving me.”

His lips were harsh, covering every inch of your skin. He kissed the bridge of your nose, your warm cheekbones, your wet eyelids. Tears ran aground in the cracks of his lips and dried up under his exquisite tenderness. No beauty spot, no eyelash, was spared. His lips erased his mother's words and the doubts in your heart. 

“You belong here, with me. I do not care for blood or war. I only wish for your love.”

Aemond filled the space between your mouths. His hands reached down and grasped your breast. He feasted on your lips and the taste of them like a hungry man. Tingles caressed your spine and tickled your lower abdomen. You rolled your hips, searching for his, but your lover pulled away.

You didn't want him to stop. 

The Prince shushed your complaints and pushed you to the bed. Your back bounced on the goose feather mattress. Eager to feel his skin against yours, you sat up and tried to pull him to you, but Aemond took a step back. A petty smile stretched his lips as he heard you whimper. He ignored you and stood silent, admiring you. His eyes, now black, gazed down at your body, contemplating its shape and softness.

“Aemond, please…”

Your lover grabbed an ankle and kissed it. You moaned. He moved up your calf, caressing your knee and digging his fingers into your thighs before spreading them apart. His teeth nipped at the flesh, which his tongue immediately soothed. Your breathing quickened and breathy moans fell from your swollen lips, intoxicated by his touch. He skipped over your dripping cunt, his hands grazing your hips and sides.  

Suddenly, Aemond stopped touching you, placed a farewell kiss on your belly and sat up on his elbows. 

“I will take care of everything, my love. You will never have to fear for your life. It is mine to cherish, mine to love, mine to protect," he said before reaching up to capture your lips with his. “Mine.”

“I love you," you sighed. 

Aemond smiled, as he did every time the words fell from your lips. One could not get used to the sweetness of love. It forever stirred the heart and soothed the soul. Your Prince placed a chaste kiss on your lips before moving down and disappearing between your thighs. 

His words vanished in desire and pleasure. You forgot them the next day, when the hour of the Nightingale struck.  

You should have known that Aemond Targaryen would keep his promise.

Three days later, the Lady Baratheon was found dead in the Kingswood, impaled on a stag's antlers. 

[celestialprincesse]

Domestic Simon💕🎀

Gets engaged to his girlfriend of like four years - he was so nervous that she'd see all the uglier parts of his past and run like all the others have, but after four years and plenty of assurance that she adores him, and that the only place she plans on running is his arms, he pops the question.

She works remotely or part time, so when he goes off to work in the mornings she packs his lunches with sweet notes and little treats that she's baked him.

He comes home to a house that smells like freshly baked bread and cookies and scones, and a kitchen that looks more bakery than house.

When he comes home from a deployment to find her crying on the couch, he loses his shit, worrying that someone's hurt her, or she's hurt herself or something's gone wrong.

The last thing he expects is for her to hand him a positive pregnancy test, and when he stands there in silent disbelief, she only cries more, thinking he doesn't want their baby. "You're - we're having a baby?" His voice is soft, a little wobbly with emotion, eyes crinkling up and welling with hardly contained tears. "Only if you want."

He recognises that this would happen eventually with the fact that they fuck like rabbits.

In the back of his mind, he's thrilled - but he also can't ignore how horrendous his own upbringing was, and that he's never had a decent father figure to guide him through what parenthood should look like. "What if I can't be a good dad?" He whispers hoarsely to her, tears filling his chocolate eyes. "You're not your father, Si." That makes his tears fall freely as he's pulled into her chest, fingers running through his mussed up hair. "What about work?" "We'll figure it out. We'll figure it all out."

[slytherinshua]

YOUR WOUNDS WRAPPED WITH MY LOVE

genre. fluff. tiny bit of angst. mafia au. warnings. descriptions of a stab wound. blood. knives and guns. some profanity. kissing. they kinda argue but very mildly. i researched a little on how to treat wounds but pls don't expect it to be too accurate 😭. pairing. fiancé!jeno x reader. wc. 1.5k. request. no. a/n. so ever since the concept trailers this jeno has been the only thing on my mind I swear 😔 and nursing trope is one of my fav tropes ever so I joined the two together and was very delulu 👍

read part 2 here !

“Again?” You asked, less than happy at the sight of the tall man who stood against the doorframe, one hand clutching his side painfully. Lee Jeno always disappeared without warning on another mission only to return, usually injured, for you to patch him up. You had urged him to hire an actual medic for the job, but he refused, saying he didn’t trust anyone but you to get that close to him. That was a few years back when the occasions for it were still rare. You were alarmed at how often he seemed to be going out, and returning with increasingly worse injuries.

Your knowledge and skill with patching up wounds— dagger wounds, bruises and scrapes from physical altercations, hell, even gunshot wounds— was a lot better than years ago. You were confident in your ability to get your fiancé back to health, but you weren’t pleased with how often you had to. No matter how much you pleaded with him to let his body rest, he would more often than not, be out again just hours after you had tended to his bleeding body.

“I’m sorry.” He grumbled out. You would have been shocked by how hoarse his voice had become if this was the first time, but you were all too used to it. Your heart still clenched painfully seeing him in that state.

He could barely walk, blood dripping a little from where his hand pressed tightly to his left side, his face scrunched in pain as laboured irregular breaths left his mouth. 

“Come here. Sit down. Tell me what happened.” You said quietly, already having gotten out the box of medical supplies. You were ready with the bottle of saline already, but it wasn’t anywhere near the top of Jeno’s worries. From the tone of your voice, he could tell you were mad at him. Or maybe it was mostly disappointment? A touch of worry, perhaps.

He made his way towards you, carefully limping towards the bed until he could gently lower himself onto it with his weight supported by the bedframe. He sat still as you gently took off his shirt, eyes assessing the dark red spot that stained the side of his stomach and up his ribcage. You glanced up to his face, and he met your eyes for half a second with a slow breath out.

“Knife. It’s not that deep, I stopped their hand before they could push it in very far.” He whispered, and then shut his eyes tightly when you dabbed a little at the wound with a soft wet cloth soaked in saline.

“Are you staying for long?” You asked, guarding your heart for what his answer would be. You loved Jeno— you loved him more than anything, and you tried to be as selfless as you could regarding him and his job. You never put up a fuss about having to patch him up, and you only ever gently tried to persuade him to be more careful. But it was hard, really hard. You couldn’t help but be hopeful that he might be able to stay for a bit longer with you. You hated how you only seemed to be seeing him to treat his wounds for the past month.

But it only reminded you of how he was by far the most selfless person you knew. 

Countless threats had always been looking for Jeno’s weakness. And you happened to be the most vital one. You were unspeakably precious to him, and unfortunately, his rivals knew that. Of course, he did everything he could to protect you. You trusted him with your life. There was no one else who you would ever trust as much as him. And he had never lost your trust. You had never even had a scratch delivered to you. But the tradeoff of the protection that Jeno made sure you had was his own life being put at risk almost every day.

Every cut, stab, or bruise that littered his fair skin were marks of how determined he was to keep you safe. The least you could do was treat his body in return with your gentle hands, wiping away the blood, wrapping the wounds carefully, and stitching them up when needed.

Jeno answered your question with only a silent nod yes. Although relief filled your body that he wouldn’t be out again immediately, you still focused on the more important task at hand. You could enjoy his company once he wasn’t bleeding.

“Are they still after you?” You rummaged around in the box for the antibiotic ointment, dabbing a bit on your finger before leaning closer to apply it. “This’ll sting.” You muttered as a warning before dabbing the wound as carefully as you could. Jeno tensed up, his fingers bunching up the sheet of the bed as he did his best to stay still.

“Talk to me. It’ll help distract you.” You told him, pausing your application of the antibiotics to rest a hand on his shoulder, providing a small bit of comfort.

“They’re… They’re after you, not me. You know that.” He whispered out as you continued to treat the wound. “They can’t take me by themselves— they’d be fucking stupid to try. I made sure that they won’t bother us for at least a month. I’ll have to talk to Renjun and Donghyuck about our next course of action.” You hummed in understanding, grabbing the roll of gauze next. 

“You need to rest your body, Jeno.” You said quietly. You could tell he was about to protest, so you interrupted quickly, “Doctor’s orders. Don’t pull anymore dumb shit.”

“It’s not dumb shit. It’s to protect you.” He argued back, clenching his jaw.

You sighed, starting to wrap the white cloth around his waist, “I know. But you said yourself that you have a month. At least for a week of that month, you need to rest and recover.” 

Your fiancé seemed unsettled at the thought of a whole week of rest; a week of letting his guard down. It was almost unheard of for him. He knew from experience that as soon as he let himself relax, something unexpected would happen. But maybe you were right. Maybe a week of rest is what he needed.

You secured the wrap tightly, and mumbled out how you were all done. Jeno just stared at you while you cleaned up, soaking up the face he hadn’t gotten a chance to study for the past month. He felt incredibly guilty for how often he had been gone, and even more so for how often he had let you see him like this. He knew you hated it, but you never complained. He didn’t deserve you.

“I love you.” He spoke suddenly, interrupting the cold silence of the room. You shut the metal drawer slowly, back still turned to him as you let a small smile grow on your face. You hadn’t heard those words from him in a while. You turned back to sit down next to him again, your eyes staring into his.

“Won’t you say it back?” He whispered, reaching for your hand; your left hand, the one that adorned that diamond ring he had given you months prior. You let him pull you closer as his right hand enclosed over your left. His fingers felt a bit rough, but they were warm and comfortable. With his left hand on the back of your neck, he gently guided you forward until his lips closed over yours.

You could just barely taste the metallicness of blood from the slight cut to his bottom lip. But you didn’t focus on it, too absorbed in the gentleness of his kiss and how perfectly his lips felt against yours even after years had passed. He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed as he caught his breath. 

You pecked his lips again, “I love you too. Always.”

He visibly relaxed at your words and dropped his head to your shoulder. You sighed, threading your fingers through the hair at the bottom of his neck, holding him closely. He shuddered quietly, and you frowned.

“Cold?” Your hand ran up and down his back slowly, feeling goosebumps rise from the chill. You traced one of the many scars that marked him, stopping at the dip of his scapula and muscle. You reached behind your back, feeling around along the mattress for a blanket. You caught hold of it and gently draped it around Jeno. 

You smiled fondly at the way he nestled his head a little closer to the crook of your neck. From his breath, you figured he was already almost asleep. You didn’t want to disturb his sleep, but you knew the position would quickly get uncomfortable, so you shifted his head down to your chest and laid back until you hit the mattress. He didn’t protest at all, but shifted into a comfortable spot in his half-asleep state. With his head on your chest, his arm around your waist, and his legs tangled with yours, you found the new position to be much more promising for getting good sleep.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead and made sure the blanket covered his body before you closed your eyes as well.

↳ nct dream taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,,

[holybibly]

A sweet treat for my bunnies in honour of the one and only fascinating fox, Jung Wooyoung's birthday.

Unholy hour of the day: You love Wooyoung's possessive side, maybe so much that sometimes you don't mind playing with fire to see how long you can push his buttons before he puts you down.

Or you flirt with the other members, and Wooyoung has to use a rather unconventional method to remind you who you belong to. Inspired by their latest comeback, your boyfriend tests your limits by using ice play.

Warning: Temperature play, ice play

"Tell me, who do you belong to, Peach?' Wooyoung asks you in a sultry, hoarse voice as he hovers seductively over you and slowly moves his cold, plump lips along the tender column of your neck. You can feel the remnants of ice that were still in his mouth quickly melting as they come into contact with your heated skin, sending shivers of excitement through your spine. His lithe, strong body traps you between the searing heat of his smooth, honeyed skin and the coolness of the black silk sheets, plunging you into a voluptuous abyss of contrasting sensations as he continues to leisurely explore your skin with his incredibly soft lips and licking the moisture that has accumulated on it languidly with his cool tongue. 

"I don't know... maybe you're the one who can tell me who I belong to, Woo?" Your voice is hardly louder than a whisper as you say these words. Maybe you're being a little too bold, teasing Wooyoung like this, knowing full well that he won't let it go and will surely punish you for it. But the dark, burning stare of his heavy siren eyes and the sharp touch of his teeth against your skin were absolutely worth it. 

Wooyoung lets out a grim chuckle that doesn't bode well and makes you shiver before he grabs a fresh ice cube from the crystal vase on your bedside table and slides it across the hollow between your soft, large breasts. The air in your bedroom is so exhaustingly heavy, mixed with the rich smoky cherry scent of Woooo's favourite perfume, and it settles into your lungs with each deep breath, soaking into the airy velvety flesh of your lungs and clouding your mind. Your whole body blossoms under his touch. The contrast of the hot body hovering over you and the scintillant cold ice feels divine, delightful enough to make your pretty pussythrob with desire.

"Hmm, try it once more, Peach. C'mon, it's so easy, isn't it? Who do you belong to?" Wooyoung begins to guide the ice cube up the side of one of your breasts until he has pressed the clear, frozen piece of water against your berry-red nipple. Over and over again, it goes round and round your swollen, pointed nipple in a circle until the ice has completely melted. Warm trickles of liquid run down your sides and down your stomach, dripping onto the silk sheets beneath you and leaving dark trails of desire, and you catch your breath as he leans over your breast and sucks your almost numb nipple into his wet, warm mouth. 

Your whole body burns with fever from the scorching touch of his soft, sensual lips. You tangle your fingers in his hair, squeezing the silky, raven-wing-coloured strands between your trembling fingers as he continues to service your nipple with his tongue and teeth. Wooyoung gently bites down on the sensitive flesh, holding it in tension, and then pulls gently on it a couple of times before releasing it from his mouth with a wet, loud 'pop' sound. 

"Peach..." Your boyfriend purrs sultrily and huskily, taking a fresh ice cube from the vase. "I'm still waitin' for your answer."

"Maybe it's San? You know he looks after me..." You stammer, continuing to annoy Wooyoung, but all of your insolence melts away as quickly as the ice as Wooyoung begins his delicious torture with your other breast. The sensation of the cold and the heat makes you gasp for breath, and you raise your juicy, soft thighs in a silent plea for more.

"You know I can do this all night, baby." Wooyoung runs his cold fingers over your belly as he slides down your body and nestles himself comfortably between your spread legs. 

I... I don't know...' Your hips sway invitingly to his touch as Wooyoung's fingertips finally reach your pussy. Even though you know it's coming, you can't help but let out a loud cry as the icy cube caught between the pads of his fingers presses against your clit. 

He rubs the melting ice cube agonisingly slowly around your sensitive nerve cluster before lightly pushing it between your plump labia to slide it down your slit to your little hole. Just when you think Wooyoung can't make his little game any more sophisticated, he blows lightly on your quivering wet folds, causing you to roll your eyes in pleasure and squirm in your spot. The black silk sheets beneath you are soon soaked with melting ice and the slime that oozes from your trembling hole. 

Wooyoung barely lets you breathe as he clamps a new ice cube between his teeth and spreads your labia with two fingers, then presses the ice directly against your swollen clit, watching it shrink and turn red from the cold. Cool water runs down your cunt as the ice cube melts in his mouth, and Woo continues, soaking you with the melting ice until it's completely gone, then stroking your clit with his hot tongue—the change in temperature making you shiver with excitement, your hands clutching the sheets tightly as your hips begin to sway weakly against his caresses.

"Just say it, baby, and I'll fuck you. That's what you want, Peach, isn't it? Do you want my cock to fill up that needy cunt of yours?" Wooyoung purrs in between long, messy licks of your pussy, his tongue feeling like it is scalding hot as it swirls around your clit. To spur you on to the right answer, Woo slides two cold fingers inside you. He immediately presses them against your sweet spot, rubbing it mercilessly with his wet, icy fingertips. 

You squeal as his fingers begin to fuck you roughly and quickly, stretching you in the most delightful way, and you belatedly realise that Woooo has not taken his rings off. The massive pieces of silver jewellery drag along your slippery, quivering walls, cooling your heated flesh each time Wooyoung slides his fingers inside of you until his broad palm is completely pressed against your wet, trembling cunt. 

"Damn it, Peach, just tell me who the hell you belong to." Wooyoung growls in a low voice as he wraps your swollen clit with his sensual lips and sucking on it in the same rhythm as his fingers work their way into your hole. He is practically breaking you down, his name hanging on the tip of your tongue as you get closer and closer to your orgasm. 

And then it stops. Wooyoung releases your throbbing clit and slowly pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you with a pitiful whimper as your cocky behaviour comes back to haunt you in the form of a ruined orgasm. 

"No... Wooyoung, please let me cum." Your whimpers pitifully. Your whole body is twitching in the painful need for that sweet release.

"Oh, you finally remembered my name, huh, peach?" Wooyoung grins wickedly and reaches for another ice cube, only to slide it across your slit again, causing you to gasp and squeal loudly. Woo moves the rapidly melting ice cube to your clenching hole and pushes the half-melted cube into you, sending a violent shiver through your entire body. He has to press his palm against your stomach to hold you in place as he continues to slide the ice cube in and out of your pussy until it melts into a puddle in his hands. "So, I ask you one last time, my sweet Peach. Who do you belong to?" Wоо's voice is soft and hoarse, and you can't resist him any longer. 

'You!' You cry out, just as Wooyoung pushes his fingers into you once more. "I am yours, Wooyoung."

'That's right, baby.' Woo smiles as he flexes his fingers inside you and strokes your G-spot with the pads of his fingers to pamper you for your obedience. 'Have you finally decided to behave like a good girl?"

'Yes, I have Daddy.' You whisper in a trembling voice. 'Now are you going to fuck me?"

Wooyoung chuckles, painfully slowly pulling his fingers, smeared in your slime, out of your hole, and crawling up your body, trapping you between his body and the silk sheets again. His eyes are dark and full of lust as he leans down to your face to kiss you lightly on your parted lips. 

"Yes, Peaches, now Daddy's going to fuck you."

[yanderemommabean]

Yandere uramichi punishing his fem darling who tried to escape with pleasure?

"God, look at you baby. Dripping all over the bed and I haven't even done anything yet" He says in awe, watching how his fingers drip with your juices, all while you're unable to even hide your face, hands tied to the side of the bed as you struggle to catch your breath.

"Honestly, with how wet you are, I'd think you did that stunt on purpose. Is that it? You just like me riled up because you know what I'm capable of doing to you?"

His voice is sickly sweet, his lips sucking obscenely on his fingers that were just inside you, groaning deep in his throat as he slides between your forced open legs, cuffed to the end posts of the large bed.

His thumbs come to hold your swollen pussy lips open, his expression that of admiration and contemplation, wondering just how much of a mess he can you.

You're so cute when you yelp at the way he plays with your stiff clit, and when you shake and try to apologize, he just can't help but smile. You knew the consequences! Why are you acting like this is all a big surprise? Surely you have to be doing this on purpose!

The rose toy he got earlier that week, would that be good to try? Your toes curl and your voice goes hoarse when he gets a little carried away, and well, this isn't exactly supposed to be easy on you.

You wince, feet trying to firmly plant on the mattress as the toy vibrates and suctions right on your clit, your nerves set alight as you writhe and try to both get away and grind down harder.

"There you go again, acting like you don't love how I treat you. Honestly, you could use some acting classes" He says, deadpanned but not at all bored. He presses the toy down harder, sliding his fingers inside of your clenching and fluttering walls while you sob, wrists yanking in the bindings as the toy relentlessly sucks and makes your muscles taut.

Those pianist fingers only make it worse, the pleasure so intense it drives you up a wall. You didn't even have the cognitive ability to plead with him, it was useless anyhow, but this was making even thinking difficult. Without a warning, that cord in your stomach just snaps. And the mess that leaves you and your mouth makes you want to curl up and die.

Uramichi just latches his mouth to your pussy, sucking and drinking you in, firm hands holding you up by your ass as he takes every bit he can get. It's almost cute how easy it is to make you squirt. His cute sensitive little co-star.

"There we go, let it all out baby. See? It's so easy for you to be good for me like this! It's making me wonder why I let you be untied in the first place" He says aloud, dragging his thumbs up and down your swollen vulva as you sniffle and try to form any semblance of an apology.

It's useless. You know it is. But the panic doesn't stop your mouth from moving and speaking words that fall on deaf ears.

His fingers slide back inside, his demeanor changing as his palm presses against your abused and sore clit, fingers pumping and curling at a punishing, brutal pace.

"You're not fuckin sorry. Not yet. One orgasm? Please. I'll make you sorry. Make you cum again and again and again while you gasp and writhe, and beg me. Don't care if you pass out. Don't care if it hurts. You tried to leave. You have no one to blame but yourself."

The way he fingers you, deep and demanding, you can only openly sob as more wetness drips down to your ass. It's wet, sticky, the noises only make you feel more shame as the man comes to suck on your nipples, biting and tugging them aggressively as he works you into another orgasm, the pain mixing with the pleasure only making your brain all the more foggy and broken.

Two orgasms in and you're already sobbing? Goodness, you really know how to put on theatrics! But if you didn't want this you wouldn't be so fucking wet, taking everything he gives you, sucking his fingers in for more. Does he look stupid?

You wanted this.

"Look at you, creaming all over my hand, spraying like a faucet. I give you what you need, don't I? Make that nasty ache go away and give your little pussy what it needs. I can play you like an instrument, anyway I like" He grins, wild and manic as he grinds his palm against your spasming clit, only making you spill into yet another overstimulated orgasm.

You don't even get to call his name or take a breath before he reaches for the rose toy again, holding it in front of his face with a shit eating grin.

"I think you, the toy and I are going to be well acquainted by the end of this. Then once you're all nice and worn out for me, I can unwind by kissing it all better."

(Please god let there be no typos I haven't slept. Anyway I hope you enjoyed!!! -Mommabean )

[happilyhertale]

Shared future, prequel – Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Summary: When your father told you that you were to wed your uncle, Daemon Targaryen, you didn't realise at first what wonderful moments it would bring you.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Fluff; Fingering

Author’s note: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

This is the prequel to my Smuff story "Shared Future"

Word count: 4.6 k

Other stories of mine

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Daemon looks up when he hears his brother's words.

He can't believe it – what he has longed for so long is about to come true?

"You want me to wed her?" he asks in disbelief.

Viserys' eyes are fixed on him. Although Viserys has just announced it, Daemon gets the feeling that perhaps he didn't mean it. But then Viserys nods briefly.

"You yourself told me to find her a betrothed. That it is time to restore House Targaryen to its former strength," Viserys adds.

Daemon processes the words, but hesitates.

"You know I always desired her?" Daemon says. He doesn't know why he says it. Perhaps to annoy Viserys, or perhaps to make it clear that he really desires you.

But Viserys nods again.

"I know..." he says, "It was also the reason why I wanted to prevent you from wedding her in the first place."

Viserys just keeps talking while Daemon raises his eyebrows slightly.

"But I realised that's exactly why you would treat her best"

Daemon is silent for some time, just looking at his brother.

"You would take care of her and wouldn't let anything happen to her"

And now it's Daemon who simply nods.

Daemon leaves the council chamber – he can't believe it. Ever since you had grown into a young woman, you had attracted his attention in a different way. Rhaenyra and you are the princesses of the realm. Young and beautiful, you epitomise what House Targaryen should bring to the realm. And yet you could not be more different. Rhaenyra, wild and bold, and you, gentle and loving.

Daemon finds himself in his chambers, lost in the idea of finally calling you his.

He drinks far too much wine and his thoughts, like his eyesight, begin to blur, but he is sure of one thing. He must see you and talk to you about it. On the way to your chambers, he realises that his blood is beginning to boil at the thought that you were sitting innocently in your chambers, probably just in your nightgown.

He could just take you now. You'd fight back, he knows that. But... he wouldn't. Not yet. With each step, he grows calmer, reassuring himself with the thought that he won't have to wait much longer before you're his. Once he married you, he could claim you as his own and you would be pleased with that.

You sit on your bed and oil your skin. Your skin is still a little damp from the bath as the gentle scent of lavender envelops you while your hands glide over your legs. A soft sigh escapes you as you think about that your father announced today that you are to wed your uncle. But before you can think about it any further, you hear a knock. You look up, "Who is it?" you ask.

Daemon waits outside your door and listens to your soft voice. He can already imagine how he could elicit soft tones from you.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse and heavy with alcohol.

"Me," he says simply.

He is taking a risk, but he knows what the answer will be.

"Uncle Daemon?" you ask, somewhat incredulously.

You pause briefly in your movements, unable to remember the last time he visited you in your chambers. Whether he ever visited you in your chambers at all.

"Don't you want to come in?" you ask before you can really think about it. Your hands push your nightgown down almost simultaneously.

Daemon grins slightly, his mouth slightly dry. The wine is working on him, putting his mind in a more daring state. He feels the effects of the heat with which his thoughts fill him.

He enters the chambers and closes the door behind him. There is only one thought in his head: to claim you. To take you. If only his brother knew he was entering your chambers at night.

You look at him with your big purple eyes as he enters.

"Are you drunk, Uncle?" you ask with a slight smile as you realise he's having trouble walking straight.

You take more oil and apply it to your calves

Daemon steps closer to you and is now standing right next to your bed. He looks down at you.

"I'm not that drunk, niece," he says quietly, and the alcohol makes him seem much bolder than he otherwise would have been. He looks at you for a moment and then frowns.

"What are you doing with the oil?" He was still watching your movements, imagining what it would look like if he did it for you, how his rough hands would glide over your soft skin... until your voice brought him back to reality.

"Well... Since father just announced that we're getting to be married, you should know," you say, and Daemon looks even more confused. Your eyes are fixed on him as you continue to oil your calves.

"I just took a bath and I oil my skin after every bath, Uncle," you say to him.

Daemon can hear the tone in your voice when you call him uncle, but he's not fazed. You would soon no longer be his niece, but his wife. His next words make his intention clear.

"Well, when you're my wife, you should let me oil your skin..." you hear his slightly slurred words.

He holds out both hands as if to take the oil from you and do it for you.

But you just laugh slightly and take the bottle of oil yourself.

"Well... I'm not your wife yet," you say, but before you can say anything else, you see Daemon stumble slightly again.

"Maybe you should lie down, Uncle?" you ask worriedly.

But Daemon doesn't want to lie down. He has to claim you, his niece. He wanted to take you right away. As he speaks, his speech becomes slurred and he stumbles slightly again, holding on to the bed.

"I'm not that drunk, niece. I won't fall over... don't worry," he mumbles.

But Daemon's mind is somewhere else, he wants to do this, to feel your skin with his hands. He comes closer and tries to snatch the bottle of oil from you again. There's nothing he wants more than to oil your skin.

As you see Daemon move to take the oil bottle from your hand, you realise he's toppling to one side. "Uncle!" you gasp and immediately get up to stop him from falling.

"Let me help you," you say and lightly grab his arm. A low grumble comes from Daemon, but he lets you lead him to the bed.

He sits down, looking almost cute, so drunk.

"Why did you drink so much?" you finally ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

Daemon lets himself fall back onto the bed and looks up at you, eyes slightly closed. He can't help but be drawn to your sweet and loving nature. But still, it's too sweet for his thoughts right now.

He has a feeling he'll regret this tomorrow, but he needs you so much. He looks into your eyes, his words are quiet and it's hard for him to say some of them.

"I want you, niece."

He just said it. No hesitation. No trying to convince you with honeyed words or sweet talk. Just the cold, hard truth. He wants you.

You smile, but you lean slightly towards him. Your hand glides to his cheek, caressing it gently.

"I know... The whispers in the corridors have always made it clear," you say softly. As Daemon internalises your words, his eyes grow wide. You know it?

You just smile and walk around the bed to sit next to him on the bed.

"Is that why you've been drinking?" you ask as you drop onto the bed.

He closes his eyes briefly and nods his head. His voice is still soft.

"I've been drinking because I want to be brave enough to say what I feel"

At the moment, he is finding it difficult to keep his tone calm and not choke on his words.

"I want you." he repeats his words.

He is almost embarrassed to ask this question because he fears how much you would hate him for it, but he has to do it anyway. He opens his eyes with great force and looks at you - "Do you want me as well?"

As these words echo in your room, your breath catches for a moment. You don't know if you want him. What does that even mean... But you smile slightly. Your brave and feared Uncle Daemon seems so vulnerable.

"Well... father told me today that I have to wed you, so I guess that means I want you...?" you ask quietly, a little unsure.

Daemon can feel his heart pounding in his chest. His words slur slightly, and he couldn't help but smile at you. Things were going better than he had imagined, and he hoped he hadn't misunderstood the situation.

"What I mean is... do you want me as your husband?"

He wants to know the truth, even if it means you'd reject him.

You think for a moment.

"Well..." you finally say.

"I was always afraid of getting married," you say quietly, "I thought my father would marry me off to an old, fat lord..."

And then you look at him, "But you're neither old nor fat," you say a little cheekily and a smile graces your lips, "So, yes.."

Daemon's smile widens when he hears your cheeky words. Those words were music to his ears. They meant that he would hold you in his arms, that you would soon have his child, that the blood would remain pure. He feels a sense of triumph, the thought that he could have you made his pulse beat faster.

"Then you would wed me..." he says, still smiling. They are such simple words, but they make him feel so much pleasure. As he speaks, his hand moves to your waist and he pulls your body closer to him.

You gasp slightly, but a laugh escapes you as he pulls you closer to him.

"Yes... I wouldn't have a say in it anyway, but yes, I'll be your wife," you say.

You hesitate for a moment and look at him.

"But what do you think of that?" you ask quietly, "I mean... I am younger than you?"

Daemon puts his other hand around the back of your neck and pulls you even closer to him. He likes that you're so much younger than him, so naive in that sense. It means he can transfer his desires to you more easily. His grip on your neck tightened a little and he speaks softly, but he doesn't take his eyes off you.

"Age doesn't matter in these things," he murmurs softly.

His hand runs up and down your body and he feels how soft you are against his hand.

You giggle slightly, his fingers lightly tickling your skin.

"But you've always said that your young nephews and nieces are just little brats..." you say, "They're not much younger than me..."

Daemon smiles slightly, your words making him laugh. You were a smart girl, despite your innocence. He can imagine you could be a bit of trouble, but that wasn't a bad thing. You're funny.

His hand still glides along your body.

"There's a difference between children and you... You're a woman now. An attractive woman..." he whispers, but his words are still slightly slurred.

He becomes bolder in his touch and pulls you even closer to him so that your body almost presses against his.

You smile and blush slightly. His hands feel good on your body, but you're nervous – no one has ever touched you like this before.

"Uncle...?" you whisper.

Daemon smiles even more, he can literally sense that you're a little nervous. That would make you even more submissive. He notices how you blush, and that makes him want you even more.

He speaks softly, in his deep voice.

"Tell me... What does my niece want?"

In response to his question, he lets his hands glide even deeper over your body.

You hesitate for a moment. You feel a warmth inside you as his fingers continue to glide over your body.

"I... I'm still a maiden..." you whisper, "I've never kissed anyone before..."

And you gasp slightly as his hand suddenly grabs your bum. Your eyes meet and you become even more nervous.

"Can we wait until we are wed?" you suddenly whisper. Your nervousness gets the better of you and you're not sure where lying in bed with your uncle like this will lead, but you're sure you shouldn't do it until you're husband and wife.

Daemon is still smiling, your soft bum in his hand. Your words are exactly what he was hoping for. A maiden! His lips twist into a mischievous smile as you speak, his tone brimming with lust, "My niece is a maiden?"

His hand squeezes your bum even tighter as he speaks, but as you look into his eyes, he is caught by your purple eyes and his face softens.

"You want me to wait until you're my wife?"

He asks quietly, but surprised, the delicate scent of wine on his breath. How could he wait when you are pure temptation? But you just nod slightly.

"Yes... I mean... Everyone says it's nothing special and that women wouldn't enjoy it anyway..." you whisper.

"But I want it to be special... and when we're wed..." you whisper.

Daemon is surprised at how pure you are, almost shocked. He hadn't expected you, a princess, to have no experience at all. Your innocence was like gold to him.

"If that's what you want, niece…" he finally speaks in a slow voice that is both gentle and demanding. Then his hand slowly slides down from your bum to your thigh. It sounded like you had set your terms, but they were acceptable to him, a fair compromise. With any other maiden, he would have pushed the desire to the extreme until he got what he wanted. But you're not just any girl, you're his beloved niece. He doesn't want it to be all about him – he wants you to enjoy it too.

You nod and smile slightly, "Yes..." you whisper.

His fingers glide over your body again and you can't take your eyes off him. His eyes follow his fingers as they glide gently over the fabric of your nightgown. But his dreamy eyes are distracted when your voice rings out.

"But... do you think it would be wrong to try..." you say softly, hesitating as you blush, "...I mean... I've never kissed anyone before"

You sound as innocent as a young woman can be, and that arouses him so much.

"It would be wrong to try..." he whispers, and for a moment you feel bad for asking such a thing, until he speaks his next words, "...Because then I'd want more"

You gasp slightly as he speaks softly. His tone is almost pleading, filled with desire that grows by the second. He tries to hold back as best he can.

"But just kiss me, I won't push you for more..." he murmurs suddenly, leaning closer to you and again, you gasp slightly, but nod as he leans closer to you.

Your teeth lightly clamp around your lip as his hand slides to your neck and gently grips it. Daemon holds your neck ever so gently, running his thumb lightly over your cheek. He comes even closer, his thumb now gently caressing your lip. His breath was soft and even on your mouth now.

His voice is filled with all the desire a man could feel.

"Come on... Kiss me, niece. Just one peck...," he murmurs softly.

You exhale heavily, but then you lean forward. Your lips meet and you breathe heavily.

You could be bursting with nervousness, your heart trying to burst out of your chest. But after a short time, you slowly calm down – the calm that radiates from Daemon takes you over completely.

His thumb is still gently caressing your cheek and your lips just touch. His lips are soft, and you never thought lips could be so soft. But then Daemon moves his lips slightly. Slight nervousness flares up in you again, but you just try to follow his movements. Until his tongue suddenly touches your lips and you gasp slightly.

The way you kiss is so sweet and innocent, yet with a hint of arousal. It made Daemon's breath catch in his throat. At first he just wanted to tease you and indulge in the sweet caresses of his young niece.

He had tried to be patient and let you take the lead. But as his tongue touches your lips, the wine in his body takes over and he feels you gasp as he continues. His hand slides from the back of your neck to the back of your head, into your hair – and begins to guide you as he slowly slides his tongue into your mouth.

You are overwhelmed as his tongue slides into your mouth.

Your tongues touch and the feeling is indescribable. Such soft yet firm movements. So warm and yet somehow moist. You whimper slightly as his tongue moves further and his hand grips your hair tighter.

His other hand now moves slightly downwards, travelling to your thigh. He tries to give you the same pleasure you give him and starts to move his finger up your thigh.

You pull your head back, your breathing heavy as his fingers caress the inside of your thighs.

His eyelids are half closed as you search for his gaze. A warmth you can't describe spreads through you as his fingers continue to caress you – a questioning expression on your face.

Daemon enjoys it, every little thing you do is so satisfying and pleasurable in so many ways. Your innocence and submissiveness are so pleasing to him. His fingers slowly work their way up the insides of your thighs, getting closer to your womanhood with every caress. He watches your face the whole time. Your lips slightly parted and your eyes staring at him, you look slightly nervous. You don't know what to expect from this, and he liked that. He wanted you to learn.

A gasp echoes through your chambers as his fingers suddenly reach their destination, pressing gently against your womanhood. You grab his biceps, breathing heavily.

You've never felt anything like this before.

Daemon savours the sound of your gasp, almost as much as your hand gripping him. Your body tenses as he moves his fingers slightly and continues his caress. His words are almost like a sweet whisper in your ear, "There's still so much to learn, niece. I look forward to teaching you," he smiles with pure desire on his face.

And it grows with every movement he makes, with every little reaction from you. He's more daring now, his fingers move faster and suddenly you moan quietly. You look at him, slightly startled by the sound that leaves you. But the shock doesn't last long as his aimed movements make you moan again. Your fingers dig into the muscles of his arm.

"Is... is this okay? What we're doing here..." you whimper and a chuckle escapes Daemon.

A mischievous grin crosses his face. Your reaction is exactly what he had hoped for. You felt joy where you had only expected pain. Your eyes are still wide with excitement and maybe even a little fear. You're a little naive, but in such an endearing way.

"Yes. That's all right and natural..." he says in a voice of pure desire, his voice now just a murmur. He breathes faster, he wants more, but he wants to take his time.

The feeling becomes more and more overwhelming and you don't know where to put your hands so that they end up resting on his chest. You moan again as his fingers move faster. He likes making you feel like this and he likes seeing and experiencing your reactions. He sees your toes wiggle and your mouth open slightly. He enjoys it so much that he almost loses control of himself... The part of his brain that's trying to stay in control tells him to tease you, to make you beg for it, to make you scream. But somehow he resists. This moment is too precious for him.

But suddenly his finger slides into you and you whimper. You look at him, you're breathing heavily and then he leans forward again and kisses you. He growls slightly and you whimper in response. He savours every sound you make as you experience all this for the first time. You are so beautiful, so gentle and innocent, and this is his reward for waiting to split you open with his cock.

But still, his finger slides in and out of you slowly, taking his time, trying to make this a slow but perfect experience for you. He can feel your wet walls tightening around his finger, your tightness adjusting to his finger, he growls softly. Everything about it turns him on, not just your body, but the sweet sounds you make, and he takes each one in and would never forget it.

His finger moves slowly and rhythmically, creating more sounds from you, his finger soaked by now.

"Uncle..." you whimper softly and he kisses you again. Your hands on his chest grab his shirt and your whimpering continues. Your hand slides to his neck, pulling him closer to you – it feels so good for you. You just want to feel something like this with him... you need more.

Daemon just grins as he feels you pull him closer to you and your thighs spread slightly, making it easier for him to thrust his finger into you. Your moans and whimpers arouse him immensely, and that makes him even more eager to please you.

His finger moves faster, thrusting deeper into you. With the same eagerness, he let his tongue wander into your mouth as he pulled his finger out of you, only to push it back in. He growls again and pushes you back onto the bed and with one movement, he pushed himself between your legs, kneeling gently between them.

A gasp escapes you between your moans. Your eyes are fixed on him as he moves between your legs. His heavy breathing echoes through your chambers as he kneels between you and pushes his finger inside you again. But this time he adds another finger.

You cry out slightly as you feel the pressure. You whimper and reach for his arm. Daemon notices your slight discomfort immediately and bends down slightly. His lips slide onto yours and you whimper into his mouth as he growls slightly. His fingers slowly but purposefully find their way inside you and slowly the slight pain becomes pleasure. Daemon fels your walls clench around his fingers, your inner muscles spasm as he begins to move his fingers faster.

Daemon breaks away from the kiss and watches your face closely. He senses how sensitive you are. But the sounds that escape you as he guides his fingers inside you are like warm music to his ears. He wanted to hear you make those sounds again and again.

He moves his fingers further, daring to go deeper and find the perfect rhythm. Daemon smiles, he's enjoying this so much. Your breathing quickens and your grip on his arms tightened as he teases you. Daemon leans forward again and thrusts his finger harder into you. Your purple eyes meet and he sees pure desire in your gaze, with a hint of shame.

You can't suppress your uncontrollable moans as his fingers thrust faster. His other hand held your thigh, but then slid to your warm core. Light pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves follows and makes you cry out again as his fingers continue to penetrate you.

Your thighs begin to tremble slightly and a pressure builds up in your abdomen. You don't know what's happening to you, but you trust Daemon. His eyes are fixed greedily on you, as if he's expecting something from you, but you don't know what.

Daemon's breath gets heavier as he watches you, you are so innocent but your reactions turn him on so much. He's enjoying your first experience together so much and he knows you are as well.

He moves his fingers faster and harder. His deliberate movements on your bundle of nerves rub your wetness, make you moan louder, he wants to see you squirm.

He can feel the tension building up in your body, your walls clenching around his fingers again and again. His body is full of energy and he begins to growl with desire. He can't wait any longer, he's so aroused by the sounds you're making, your eyes wide and beautiful. He knows you're close.

When he feels your whole body start to tremble, your thighs want to close around his hands and your eyes roll back, he just smiles. He would make this good for you. He continues to move in the same rhythm, hitting just the right spot, and you're about to experience the most powerful thing you've ever experienced.

You cry out slightly as your damp walls almost crush his fingers. You don't know what's happening, but a wave of pleasure floods through your body. You moan and whimper, his fingers still moving slightly and you grip his arm tighter. He leans down and bite your neck lightly. His growls becoming louder, just hearing you moan and whimper is doing enough for him now.

"Uncle Daemon..." you whimper and look at him as he sits up again, breathing heavily. Daemon just smiles, he's just given you your first climax.

His fingers move slower now, and his eyes watch you with a smug expression as he whispers, "It'll be like this every night when you're my wife..."

You blush even more as he says these words.

Slowly, he pulls his fingers out of you and you whimper slightly.

Still breathing heavily, you look at him.

"Every... Every night...?" you whisper a little breathlessly.

Daemon grins as he looks at you, so flushed and breathless. He savours the thought that this would happen every night. He loves being able to teach you, and he knows he would enjoy giving you new experiences.

"Every night... And sometimes every day..." he says in a soft voice as he continues to smile, "But only if you're a good wife..." he whispers with that mischievous smile.

You gasp indignantly, but smile slightly. Exhausted, Daemon drops onto the bed next to you and stares at you. "I'll be the best wife possible," you finally say.

He grins again, you're always good at obeying. He puts his arms around you, pulls you closer.

"Good..." he murmurs.

He moves his head close to your face and your lips almost touch. His breath is almost warm and then he lets his lips brush your cheek and whispers softly in your ear.

"And to a good wife many things will be given..."

You blush even more, but giggle slightly as he grabs your bum again. He pulls you further towards him and your lips meet almost automatically.

Daemon smiles a little at your giggle, you still seem a little shy to him, and he liked that. You were so pure.

He moves his hand down to your thigh and slowly slides his fingers back between her legs to tease her again – and this would be repeated on many more nights.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list:

@hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemonds-eyeball @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @valeskafics @bl4ckph0enix @autumnhymns @fan-goddess @msmorningstaarr @dreamlandcreations @hopelesswritergall @wetbitchlibrary

[23victoria]

𝔡𝔞𝔡𝔡𝔶'𝔰 𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔢!

*☾⋆･ﾟ pairings:𝔰𝔲𝔤𝔞𝔯!𝔡𝔞𝔡𝔡𝔶 𝔧𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔬𝔫 𝔟𝔲𝔱𝔱𝔬𝔫 𝔵 𝔣𝔢𝔪!𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

word count: 3𝓀

*☾⋆･ﾟ synopsis: jenson loves fucking his sweatpea 𝒸𝓌! pet names, praise kink, rough, fingering, degradation, body worship, overstimulation, size kink, dacryphilia, somnophilia, creampie, face sitting, cockwarming, daddy kink

authors note: porn without a plot basically, it’s been a week since I updated and I didn’t even notice, Kinktober will be finished by the end of this week so i can start spooktober! i’m so excited, send in ideas and characters you think the f1 drivers would be!! i hope you enjoy! likes, asks, and reblogs are appreciated!!

𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔞 𝔟𝔢 𝔞𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔶 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱?! CLICK HERE!

*☾⋆･ﾟ f1 MASTERLIST KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

“Ohh, fuck!” Jenson groans, his hands gripping your waist with a possessiveness that sends a thrill down your spine, and his thrusts are hard and deep, filling you in a way that makes you gasp with every movement. He’s relentless, the sound of his waist hitting your ass filling the room, the tension thick and palpable. Each snap of his hips sends shockwaves through your body, the pleasure intense, overwhelming.

Jenson's gaze is locked onto yours, darkened with desire as he takes in every inch of your expression—your parted lips, your flushed cheeks, the way your body arches in response to his dick hitting your cervix. His grip tightens, pulling you impossibly closer as he picks up the pace, the force of his thrusts making the headboard shake behind you.

“Fuck, baby,” he growls, voice hoarse and filled with need. “You’re so fucking perfect. Look at you. Taking me so well. My little sweetpea, aren’t you?”

His words make your head spin, each syllable dripping with praise and possession, only adding to the fire coursing through your veins. He shifts his angle, driving deeper, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl, and you cry out, unable to hold back. Jenson smirks at your reaction, pride flickering in his eyes as he watches you unravel beneath him.

“You love this, don’t you? Love it when I fuck you like this,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear as he leans down, lips brushing the sensitive skin of your neck. “You’re mine. All mine.”

You can barely nod, the pleasure too intense, too consuming for coherent thoughts. All you can do is moan his name, your nails digging into his back as your body trembles with every thrust. His lips trail down your neck, over your collarbone, until his mouth finds your breasts, his tongue flicking over your hardened nipples in a way that has you gasping for air. He pulls one into his mouth, sucking gently before his teeth graze the sensitive skin, making you shudder beneath him.

“You still want that waist chain, don’t you?” he breathes, his voice thick with lust as his hand moves to grip your hips, holding you firmly as he continues to thurst in and out of you. “Something custom, just for you. I’ll spoil you, baby. Anything you want.”

His words send a shiver through you, the thought of him adorning your body with something so delicate, so personal, making your heart race. Jenson’s always loved spoiling you, treating you like you’re the most precious thing in the world, and tonight is no different.

In one smooth motion, he hooks your legs over his shoulders, sinking even deeper into you. The new angle pulls a gasp from your lips as he presses a kiss to your ankle, his eyes dark with lust.“And how about another anklet?” Jenson whispers, his voice thick with desire as his lips trail down your leg. "Something delicate, to match these pretty feet of yours," he murmurs, his lips lingering on your skin as he fucks into you harder, making your whole body tremble. “Something to match this perfect body of yours.” He reaches your ankle, pressing a soft kiss there before looking up at you with a grin. “God, I love spoiling you.”

His words are intoxicating, but it’s the way he looks at you that makes your heart pound—the way his eyes are filled with adoration, hunger, and something so much deeper. It makes you feel cherished, adored, as if you’re the only thing that matters in the world to him.

The rhythm of Jenson’s hips is relentless, every thrust deeper and harder than the last, driving you closer and closer to the edge. Your back arches, your fingers gripping the sheets as your body moves with his, every nerve on fire. His hands grip your waist firmly, pulling you closer to him as he pounds into you, the room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and the breathless gasps escaping your lips.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” Jenson groans, his voice ragged with pleasure. His pace doesn’t slow, his body moving with precision and force, his desire for you consuming every movement. You can feel the heat building between you both, the tension winding tighter with every thrust until it feels like you’re going to break.

Then, with one last, deep thrust, Jenson buries himself inside you, groaning low in his throat as he cums. The warmth floods through you, and the sensation of him filling you sends a final wave of pleasure crashing over your body. You shudder, completely spent, collapsing against the bed as your body trembles in the aftermath.

Jenson doesn’t move immediately, staying buried deep within you, savoring the moment. His hands roam over your body, possessive and tender at the same time. When he finally pulls back slightly, his gaze drops down between your legs, and a satisfied grin spreads across his face.

“Look at that,” he murmurs, his voice soft, filled with pride. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby. Full of me like that.”

His thumb brushes over the wetness between your legs, his eyes filled with awe as if he’s savoring the moment, the sight of you so completely claimed by him. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your belly, then your thigh, his lips lingering as if he can’t get enough.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, his voice low and possessive as he nuzzles into your skin. “Every inch of you. And I’ll never get tired of this. Never get tired of you.”

You can barely respond, your body still trembling from the aftermath, your mind a haze of pleasure and satisfaction. All you can do is cling to him, your hands gripping his shoulders as he pulls you closer, holding you tight against him.

“Let me take care of you, baby,” Jenson murmurs, his voice soft now, almost tender as he kisses the side of your neck.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jenson’s breathing is heavy, still ragged from the intensity of the moment, but his eyes are far from done. You can see it in the way he looks at you—still hungry, still obsessed. His hands never leave your body, and his lips keep brushing over your skin, as if he can’t get enough.

“Come here, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with desire. “I’m not finished with you yet. I need more… I want to taste that sweet peach of yours.”

You’re still trembling, body aching with overstimulation, but the way Jenson’s hands trail down your waist, fingers digging gently into your hips, makes you shiver with anticipation. His eyes are dark, filled with a dangerous kind of devotion that makes your pulse quicken.

Before you can even fully process what he’s asking, he’s guiding you, pulling you toward him as he shifts down on the bed. “Sit on my face, baby,” he commands softly, but there’s an intensity behind his words that sends a thrill down your spine. “Let me taste that’s sweet pussy of yours.”

You hesitate for only a moment, your body still reeling from the last wave of pleasure, but Jenson’s hands are already gripping your thighs, pulling you closer. His strength is undeniable, and he moves you with ease until you’re hovering above him, his face inches from your most sensitive spot.

The anticipation is maddening, and before you can even catch your breath, he pulls you down, burying his face between your thighs. His tongue is relentless, his lips pressing hot kisses against you as he devours you with an intensity that steals your breath.

“God, you taste so good,” he groans, the vibration of his voice against you making your legs quiver. He’s holding you up, strong hands gripping your thighs as he pulls you even closer, his mouth working you over with a fervor that has your head spinning. You lean back against the headboard, trying to brace yourself, but it’s no use. The pleasure is overwhelming, each flick of his tongue, each gentle suck, sending shockwaves through your already overstimulated body.

“Jenson,” you gasp, your hands gripping the headboard for support as your legs shake uncontrollably. But he doesn’t let up. His grip tightens on your thighs, holding you in place as his tongue delves deeper, his hunger for you insatiable.

“Yes, baby,” he groans, voice muffled but clear in its desire. “Let me taste you. Let me take care of you.”

You can barely think, let alone speak. Your body is shaking, pleasure coursing through you in waves as he continues to eat you out with a devotion that has you on the edge of losing control. Your thighs quiver in his hands, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps, but Jenson holds you steady, refusing to let go.

He looks up at you from between your legs, eyes dark and wild with obsession. “I love seeing you like this,” he murmurs, pausing only long enough to speak before diving back in. “Falling apart just for me. That’s my good girl.”

His words push you even closer to the edge, and you feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as the overstimulation takes hold. It’s too much, too good, and you don’t know how much longer you can hold on. But Jenson doesn’t stop. If anything, he becomes more intense, his mouth working you over with an urgency that leaves you breathless, his hands gripping your thighs like he’s never letting you go.

Your body trembles, legs shaking as you lean harder against the headboard, your vision blurring with the sheer force of the pleasure coursing through you. “I can feel how close you are,” he growls, his voice sending vibrations through your core. “Let go for me, baby. Give it to me.”

You can’t hold back any longer. With a final, desperate moan, you fall apart completely, your entire body shaking as the pleasure overtakes you. Jenson doesn’t stop, his mouth still working you through it as you cry out, your hands clutching the headboard for dear life.

He finally slows, his kisses becoming softer, more tender as you come down from the high. But even then, he doesn’t let go, his hands still gripping your thighs as he presses one final kiss to your sensitive core.

“There’s my sweet girl,” he whispers, pulling you down into his arms as you collapse against him, legs still trembling. “You taste like heaven.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your body feels completely spent, every muscle heavy and relaxed as you lie there, limbs tangled with the sheets, barely able to move. Jenson’s arms are wrapped around you, his warm breath ghosting over your neck as he nuzzles closer, pressing lazy kisses against your shoulder.

He hasn’t let go of you, and you can feel his fingers trailing over your skin, gentle and possessive. The weight of his touch is comforting, a reminder that he’s still here, still very much wanting you.

“Aww, is my sweetpea tired?” Jenson’s voice is teasing, soft in your ear, but it carries a note of affection that sends warmth flooding through your already exhausted body. “My baby’s all worn out, huh?”

Your lips curve into a weak smile, but your body refuses to cooperate further. You feel utterly spent, every nerve ending tingling from the pleasure he’s already pulled from you. But despite the fatigue, a shiver of anticipation runs down your spine when his fingers trace slow, deliberate circles on your skin.

He shifts slightly, moving behind you, and the heat of his body presses against yours. You can feel the weight of him, solid and grounding, his presence taking up every inch of space around you. Jenson’s hand slides down to your hip, fingers gripping you gently as his lips brush against your neck, trailing kisses along your skin. Each touch is deliberate, filled with intent, as if he’s savoring the moment, taking his time with you.

“You want me to fuck you to sleep, baby?” he murmurs against your ear, his voice low and teasing, sending a wave of heat through your exhausted body. There’s a smirk in his tone, and you can feel his lips twitch against your skin. Even though you’re tired, the promise in his words makes your breath hitch, and a soft whimper escapes your lips.

“Y-yes,” you manage to whisper, though your voice is barely audible. You’re so tired, so overwhelmed, but the need is still there, simmering just beneath the surface.

Jenson chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest and against your back, and he kisses your shoulder, his lips warm and soft. “Of course you do,” he murmurs, his voice filled with a kind of dark affection that makes your heart skip a beat. “Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s going to take care of you.”

You barely have time to process his words before his hand slides between your thighs, fingers moving slowly, teasingly. His touch is gentle but firm, and the sensation makes you gasp, even though you’re so sensitive it borders on overwhelming. You squirm slightly, but Jenson’s other hand presses against your hip, keeping you still.

“Shh, just relax,” he whispers, his breath hot against your neck. His fingers move in slow, tantalizing circles, each touch sending jolts of pleasure through your already overstimulated body. “Let daddy take care of you, baby.”

You can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips as his fingers work you over, the pleasure building again despite your exhaustion. His lips never leave your skin, kissing along the curve of your neck, his stubble grazing you in a way that has you shivering. His free hand moves to cup your breast, fingers rubbing your tit as he teases you mercilessly, driving you to the edge of pleasure once more.

“You’re so sensitive,” he murmurs against your ear, his voice filled with satisfaction. “I love how you react to me. My perfect girl.”

You want to respond, but the words get caught in your throat as his fingers slide deeper, hitting that spot that makes your entire body tremble. His touch is slow, deliberate, and the tension in your body begins to coil once again, despite the exhaustion weighing you down.

Jenson’s lips move up to your ear, his breath hot and teasing. “Just a little more, baby,” he whispers, his voice dripping with control. “You can take it.”

Before you can even brace yourself, he thrusts into you hard, the sudden stretch and intense pressure makes you gasp. You can feel his hand gripping your hip, holding you steady as he fucks you, his thrusts deep and demanding. The sensation is overwhelming, your body still so sensitive from before, but you can’t stop the way your muscles clench around him, the pleasure building too quickly.

You feel yourself coming undone before you even realize it, the wave of pleasure crashing over you so suddenly that it steals your breath. You come, hard, and the intensity of it leaves you shaking, your body trembling against him as you moan weakly.

Jenson’s hand tightens on your hip, and he lets out a low, irritated groan. “You came without me, baby,” he mutters, his voice edged with frustration. But then he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, his tone softening as he nuzzles against your neck. “I know, I know… you’re just overstimulated and tired. It’s okay.”

His words are tender, understanding, and it makes your chest tighten with warmth. Despite his irritation, he never stops moving, thrusting into you with a steady, deliberate pace that has you quivering beneath him. His breath is ragged, and you can tell he’s close, his movements becoming more urgent.

“I’m almost there, baby,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough with need. “Help me out a little, yeah? Just give me a little more.”

Your body feels like it’s on the verge of collapse, but you nod weakly, biting your lip as you push back against him, trying to meet his thrusts. The movement is small, your body too exhausted to do much more, but Jenson’s groan of approval lets you know it’s enough.

“That’s it, good girl,” he groans, his grip on your hip tightening as he thrusts harder, deeper. “You feel so good, baby.”

You can feel the tension in his body, the way his breath comes in short gasps, and you know he’s right on the edge. The pleasure builds between you both, a shared intensity that makes your head spin, and before you know it, you’re both tumbling over the edge together.

Jenson’s hand tightens on your hip as he comes, his body trembling against yours as he groans your name. “Ohh fu-ck..Y/N. Ugh..yes.” The sound of his pleasure, the way his body moves with yours, sends a final wave of satisfaction through you, and you collapse against the sheets, utterly spent.

“That’s my baby,” he breathes, his voice soft and full of affection as he kisses your shoulder, his hands still gently running over your skin. “You’re perfect.”

You feel his weight shift behind you, and just as he’s about to pull away, you weakly reach back, your fingers brushing against his arm. “No… stay,” you whisper, your voice so quiet it’s almost inaudible, but Jenson hears it.

He pauses, his body still pressed against yours, and then he lets out a soft chuckle. “Aww, you still want daddy in you, huh?” His tone is teasing, but there’s a tenderness behind it that makes your heart flutter.

You nod weakly, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure, and Jenson presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck. “Okay, baby,” he murmurs, his voice filled with warmth. “Daddy’s not going anywhere.”

He pulls you close again, his body curling around yours as he wraps you in his arms. His lips find your neck, kissing you gently as his hands stroke your skin, soothing and tender.

“Go to sleep, baby,” he whispers, his voice soft and comforting. You feel your body relaxing even more, the exhaustion finally taking over. But before sleep can fully claim you, Jenson turns your head gently, his lips brushing against yours.

He kisses you deeply, a slow, wet, and messy kiss that leaves you breathless. His tongue teases yours, the affection in his kiss making your heart swell. When he finally pulls back, he presses one last kiss to your lips, his voice a soft whisper in the quiet room.

“Sleep well, my love.”

*☾⋆･ﾟ taglist: @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ronpho @minekarina @aeongism @Formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens @aleexvqa @f1updates4you @booksandflowrs @chaostudee @winkev1 @strawblueberrys @blakesbearblog @cel-b @perfumejamal @aykxz98 @pandora-08 @tellybearryyyy @exotic-iris13 @magixpracticality @eternoange1 @pear-1206 @oliviah-25 @bbwzrld @szalovebot

copy right: © 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

[creamflix]

moze x female reader; 18+ content (MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS do not interact, you'll be blocked), established relationship, oral (f. recieving), overstimulation, pussy drunk moze + he eats you out for the first time, #needthat – masterlist here ☆～（ゝ。∂）

he’s so careful with you.

almost too careful, like you’re made of glass.

you’ve noticed it ever since the two of you started getting closer —how moze treats you as if one wrong move could make you shatter. he doesn’t show much outward emotion, the coldness in his eyes often overshadowing any warmth, but you know it’s there, hidden deep behind layers of caution and restraint. and when he touches you, it's always so tentative, as if he’s scared his hands will leave bruises on your skin.

you watch him now, propped up on your elbows, his body settled between your thighs. his strong hands, always steady on the battlefield, seem almost unsure when they rest on your hips. he glances up at you, his eyes flickering with an emotion you can’t quite place, something close to fear and desire.

“you… sure you want this?” his voice is low, and there’s a slight tremble to it that makes your chest tighten.

you nod, offering him a soft smile, reaching down to brush a strand of his hair away from his forehead. “i’ve always been sure, moze. you don’t have to hold back.”

he grunts, his brows furrowing, still hesitating. his eyes drift down to where your panties are already damp with arousal, and his fingers twitch, like he’s fighting the urge to just take what he wants.

you can feel the tension in the air — the way he’s battling with himself, torn between wanting to protect you and wanting to lose himself in you. but you want him to lose control, just once. to let himself go.

“moze,” you whisper, voice laced with encouragement. “it’s okay. i’m not going anywhere.”

his grip tightens on your hips slightly, his hands trembling as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down. there’s a sharp intake of breath from him when he sees the wetness that’s already gathered, his eyes darkening with something almost primal.

“fuck,” he mutters, his voice hoarse. “you’re… wet already.”

“yeah,” you bite your lip, a little shy under his intense gaze. “because of you.”

he swallows hard, leaning down to press a soft, almost hesitant kiss to your inner thigh. it’s such a contrast to the heat building between the two of you, the gentleness of his lips against your skin almost making you whimper in frustration. you want more of him — need more of him.

and when his mouth finally moves closer to where you need him, you can feel his breath ghosting over your core, sending a shiver down your spine. he’s so close, yet still holding back. you can see the way his hands are clenching, his knuckles white from how tightly he’s gripping your hips.

“moze,” you whisper again, a hint of pleading in your voice. “please…”

his resolve seems to crack then. with a low groan, he presses his mouth to your heat, his tongue parting your folds as he starts to explore you. the sensation is overwhelming, a flood of pleasure coursing through your body, and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips.

he’s clumsy at first, almost too cautious, but as he listens to the sounds you make, he starts to adjust, his movements becoming more sure, more confident. he’s learning what you like, figuring out the spots that make you gasp and arch your back.

“you taste… so good,” he mumbles against you, his words muffled as he laps at you with growing hunger.

your fingers find their way into his hair, tugging him closer, urging him to go deeper. and he does, his tongue pressing harder against your clit, his pace quickening as he loses himself in the act.

“‘m sorry,” he mutters between licks, though you’re not sure what he’s apologizing for. “can’t… stop now.”

you can feel the pressure building inside you, your muscles tightening as your orgasm approaches, and moze just keeps going, his hands gripping you tighter, pulling you closer to his mouth. the overstimulation starts to set in quickly, but he doesn’t stop. if anything, he goes harder, faster, pushing you over the edge again and again until you’re gasping for air, your body trembling beneath him.

“moze — too much —” you whimper, trying to push him away, but he doesn’t relent, his mouth still working against you as he presses a kiss to your swollen clit.

“‘m sorry,” he murmurs again, but there’s no sign of him stopping. you realize then that he’s not sorry for what he’s doing — he’s sorry because he knows he’s never going to be able to stop.

he’s addicted now, and no amount of restraint can hold him back.

“can’t let you go,” he says, his voice dark and filled with possessiveness.

#needthat

produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ banners by cafekitsune

[lovelywyenn]

“P*ssy Drunk”

★Giyuu Tomiokax fem!Reader★ Synopsis★forget pussy drunk, have you ever seen Giyuu a slutty, whiny mess just because of your thighs. That shit'll kill you ★ Includes★Pussy eating,Squirtingg,clit worship, mini handjob, thigh fucking, overstimulation, lots of cum★ ★W.C★2.5K

Your face was flushed, and your hair was messy. Your thighs were quaking and you swore your vision was blacking out. 

Who the hell taught this boy to eat pussy like this. 

Giyuu’s tongue was toe curling, he was slurping the soul out of you. All the men you usually fucked around with. Football players, rich dudes. They couldn’t find the clit if it had neon signs pointing to it. But Giyuu didn’t have that problem.

He had found your clit, thirty…maybe forty-five minutes ago. And he hadn’t let it go since. You were joking, just playing around with the nerd when you told him you’d give him the orgasm of a lifetime if he ate you out. But he took it seriously. 

The only reason he was in your dorm room right now was because of a school project. Usually when you get paired with a loser like him you’d let them do all the work. But Giyuu, he was a bit of a cutie. 

You still remember the first time you got paired with him, and you didn’t think you’d ever go back.

You liked how nervous he got around you, how bad he stuttered when you got close. It was painfully obvious he was into you. And you loved taking advantage of it. That boy would do anything for you at the drop of a hat. 

Oh you needed a new pair of heels, he cashapped you two hundred in five minutes. You were too tired to do your homework, send it his way and he’d have it done the next day. Drank too much last night, he was ready with tylenol and ginger ale to help your stomach and your head. 

Sometimes he was too sweet, and you felt…bad for the way you treated him. 

But you always shook yourself out of it. He was a fun little play thing. And that was all he was. 

A pretty little toy with the tongue of a god.

“Fuckkkk….” you moan as he kisses at your slit, spreading your lips to fuck his tongue into you. 

Three times. You had said he had to make you cum three times to get you to return the favor, and he hadn’t passed anatomy at the top of his class for no reason. You were so easy to read, to break. You were a mess the moment his tongue flicked across your clit. Worshiping the bud with nasty, toe curling sucks that had you moaning his name. His name!

He had imagined it before, having you under him, hearing you finally thank him for everything he had done for you. Finally acknowledging him. 

But the real thing was so much better than his imagination. Your pussy was so pretty, so needy. He could tell from the way you reacted to him none of the men you had been with had ever eaten you properly. Never taken the time to kiss their meal before indulging in it, never appreciating the goddess’s thighs they were in between. 

Though he wasn’t like them, Giyuu wouldn’t make that mistake. 

He wanted you shaking under him, for your voice to be hoarse from calling out his name. And you gave him exactly that. 

You didn’t like losing control, to show more than you wanted. But his tongue was too good. How could anyone not give into such immense pleasure. He ate you out so good your body could barely handle the pleasure. 

The first orgasm he gave you was one of the best you’ve ever had. Your body arched up into the air so high you thought you’d fall off the bed. But Giyuu wrapped his surprisingly strong arms around your thighs just to drag you halfway off the bed securely and dive right back in.

The overstimulation took you by surprise. A man had barely given you an orgasm before, much less dived back in for seconds. 

Clearly, Giyuu wasn’t leaving here without losing his virginity. Which meant you weren’t getting let up on until you came a third time. 

The second orgasm hit you barely two minutes ago. And Giyuu didn’t even let you go for that one. His tongue stayed sloshing around your clit. 

It felt like all the air had been taken from your lungs. You didn’t cry, you never cried. But you wanted to, so bad. 

It was so unfair, how he was tearing you apart with pleasure so intense. You’ve never felt it before, hot white sparks flew down every vein in your body every time his tongue moved on you. 

The sounds in the room were so nasty, the filthy sounds of slick and spit permeating throughout the room. And you could feel it too. Everything was so wet. You could feel yourself sopping, but who could blame you. The immense wetness paired with the sloppy head you were receiving was the sexiest thing ever. 

“Oh my god, you’re g-gonna kill meeee!” you hiccup. 

Your voice is exactly the way he wanted it. Tired and desperate for him. All for him. It was so pathetic he almost felt bad for you, almost wanted to let up a bit. 

But when your pretty hands slide down into his long hair, pulling him impossibly closer to your slit he doesn’t feel too bad anymore. He flattens his tongue, a smirk on curling on the edge of his lips as your hips buck up into his tongue erratically, practically pleading to reach your peak. Not that he minded, his brain had almost gone as dumb as yours at this point. How could Giyuu be expected to think straight when those pretty stilettos he had paid for were scratching at his scalp so deliciously. 

A question leaves your lips as you grow tired of grinding, “P-Please, can you suck my clit a-again” you ask, peering down at Giyuu. 

Deep blue eyes gaze up into your own, and the hungry look in them makes you whimper. That was the first time you had ever said please before you asked him for something. He just had to make sure he rewarded you for using your manners.

His tongue licks a long stripe up your cunt before latching his lips on your clit, lavishing your hardened bud with all the loving it deserved.

A symphony of your whines filled the room, and you were squirming so bad he had to hold you down to stay focused on his target. One of his hands had a harsh hold on the fat of your thigh. The other pressed hard against your lower stomach to get you still. 

The pressure has your eyes rolling back in your head, too overwhelmed to warn him about what was coming. 

Blue eyes widen as Giyuu is sprayed with juices. It takes him one..two seconds to react before his tongue is sliding down to your entrance, one of his thumbs taking up for his tongue’s absence on your clit. 

You don’t make a sound, but you don’t have to, your pussy does all the talking for you. And she was having the orgasm of a lifetime. Giyuu could feel your cunt twitching under your thumb, and your spray of juices seemed to be never ending. 

But he takes care of your pretty pussy until she doesn’t have a drop of juice left to squirt on his tongue, until she’s spent out and tired just like you were. 

You peek open your eyes when you feel Giyuu pull away. And you almost wish you didn’t. 

Why the hell did he look so fucking sexy? 

His shirt was soaked, almost all the way through, and his face was no better. You could see the shine of your slick across his chin. His lips red from how hard he had been sucking on your clit. His skin was just as flushed as yours, if not more. And his hair was disheveled from your tight hold on his locks.

But sexiest of all was the look he gave you. Like the sight of you, a wet mess under him, was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. His eyes met yours and they never left as he pulled off his shirt. His movements erratic as he shucks off the rest of his clothes. 

You couldn’t help but gasp as his cock sprung out his boxers. It was…gorgeous. Though not girthy, he was sizely. Pretty pink tip sitting on top of a lengthy shaft. He was so hard it looked painful, veins easily on display. His tip was leaky, dripping on the floor of your room.

“...That’s three times” he says quietly, stepping up to you. 

Your eyes widen as he grabs you by your ankles, pulling your body closer to him. The tip of his cock slaps at your clit and you moan, a shiver running through you. 

“You’ll help me cum, right princess? That was the deal” he says, “Can i put it in mama?” 

The words are like liquid heat, and they send a fire to your cunt. It was a bit scary, how he had so much control over you, how he could make you feel like this so easily.

“You think i’d ever let you fuck me?” you say. It’s supposed to be mean, demeaning even. But it comes out as a breathless whisper. 

Giyuu frowned at your words, “B-but you said you would” he says. He wasn't the one who had just came three times, but he could have fooled you. His voice was so disappointed, so desperate, you would have thought he was ready to cry. 

And with the way he hugged your leg, eyes actually growing a bit glossy, you think he actually might. 

For some reason, the look in his eye tugged at your heart strings. It was that feeling that let you know you were giving in. But you couldn’t let him completely get his way. 

You bring one of your hands to your mouth, spitting on it. With that hand you reach down and grab Giyuu’s cock. And it takes everything in the man not to cum on the spot as you yank at his cock.

“Look at me” you bark at him, and he listens to your orders. 

“You’d have to make me cum five times and throw a couple hundred in if you ever wanna feel this cunt around your cock” you spit, “...But i suppose since you did what i asked so well, I ‘ll let you fuck my thighs instead” 

It’s not what he thought he’d end up with, but Giyuu knew you very well. It was either take this offer or leave with the rest of the project to finish alone in his room. 

He’d take thigh fucking the woman of his dreams over doing work alone in his room any day. 

“Okay” he agrees, voice hoarse as you let his cock free from your grip.

Giyuu maneuvers you the way he wants you and you let him. After all he had earned this. He slots his dick between your thighs, throwing your two legs over the same shoulder, effectively sandwiching the flesh together. 

He gives an experimental thrust, aided from the slick coating of your thighs. 

It feels weird…but good. Better than anything else he had ever felt before. 

You looked up at the man, his face contorting into so many different things. Pleasure, pain, almost every sensation in the book. But you could feel his dick twitching, clearly he wasn’t minding the new terms of your deal.

It took thirty seconds for Giyuu to grow addicted to having you under him like this. And thirty seconds to start whining. 

Every Time he thrust forward, his tip would knock against your clit, and in no time, he had you moaning right along with him. While yours were low, quiet moans. Giyuu clearly wanted the whole dorm hallway to hear the two of you.

He was so loud, so whiny. But he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Your thighs were so thick and smooth, hugging his cock tightly. And the warmth of your cunt along the underside of his cock was driving him crazy. It was so wet, your slick sticking to his cock, only making it easier for him to fuck your thighs faster,

Giyuu just looked so…pretty like this. Eyes shut tightly as he humped his cock along your thighs, the most desperate moans leaving his mouth. He looked like he was gonna lose his mind if he sped up any faster, but that didn’t stop him. 

From the sounds of skin slapping together in your dorm, it almost sounded like he was inside you, dick deep in your guts. If he was inside you, you were sure you would have come by now. Hell, you were close just from occasional nudges of your clit. 

There was so much pre spilling along your thighs, you didn’t even know it was possible for a guy to be so turned on. It was such an ego booster. To know that the man fucking your thighs was a hot mess because of you. 

“Such a messy cock baby” you giggle.

The sound of your laugh and your words has Giyuu’s brain short circuiting, eyes open to look at you. You’d never called him that before.

It felt so good he could barely answer you. “I-I can’t help it” he whines.  And you smile, “I know baby, I know” you coo. 

“Bet you’re ready to cum all over me, huh? Little cock ready to blow” you tease.

It’s meant to be mocking but the intention goes right over Giyuu’s head. Because you were right. He was about to blow. 

“M’gonna c-cum princess” he mutters.

The confession makes you squeeze your thighs around his cock harder than before, and the friction isn’t lost on him. 

You weren't even worried about yourself any more. Finding yourself a bit too desperate to name him cum. 

“Go on baby, make it messy f'me, yeah?”you say. 

He wants to warn you, but just like you earlier.  The pleasure was too overwhelming for him to speak. But not too much to stop him from whining. You gasp as his cum shoots all the way up to your tits. There’s so much of it, you can only imagine how pent up the poor boy was. 

Giyuu had never cum with the help of another before, and no his virginity hadn’t been taken that day. But he had found something he thought he could stay addicted to forever. 

Your thighs were heaven and even after such a nasty orgasm, he couldn’t find it in himself to stop. How could he? You just looked so pretty covered in his cum. 

And he swore he was gonna lose it when you scooped some of his cum off your fat tits and licked on it.

The overstimulation was bad, and it hurt. But it felt so fucking good to be trapped between your thighs. 

He swore he could stay between them forever, or until his cock was shooting ghosts. 

Plus, you didn't seem to mind his desperate thrusts between your now cum covered thighs. Infact, the finger bitten between your teeth showed you had almost been enjoying this as much as him. 

Almost.

YOU’LL HAVE TO PRY SUBBY GIYUU FROM MY COLD DEAD HANDS!!!!!!!~ Kinktober Masterlist|2024

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Forgive Me | John Price x Reader

Summary: After a rough day, Price gets home and accidentally raises his voice at you, leading to plenty of apologies, and making up for his mistake.

Word Count: ~ 1.2k

Warnings: price yelling at reader :( angst to fluff to a lil bit of smut, fingering, cuddling, cute snuggly kisses, nothing too bad

Minors, do not interact!

A/N: this was such a cute request from anon, I love price so much…like he’s such a cutiepie y’all don’t even get it, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

You and your husband didn’t have many arguments.

Sure, the occasional little squabble where you’d only last maybe an hour before breaking and both apologizing to each other, acknowledging your wrongs.

The emotional maturity that both of you shared was something John Price appreciated most about your relationship.

But tonight was different.

He couldn’t even remember what had started the argument.

He’d already been wound up, having driven hours from the base to home after a long day of dealing with annoying recruits while his patience ran thin with their antics and horseplay. It had been a bit entertaining the first few times, but by the 40th time, it was plain annoying.

But they didn’t seem to understand that.

So he’d spent his day yelling at them till his voice was hoarse, some refusing to stop and just continuing what they’d been doing if they were ballsy enough.

And he supposed that instead of reverting into the normal John Price, the Price that was softer and gentler with you, he hadn’t seen the difference between you and those recruits in the moment.

One sarcastic remark, and you were both in the living room, Price pacing around leaving a trail on the floor while ranting in a loud, brusque voice all too similar to a yell. He got so caught up in himself, in his angry tirade of frustration with his day and the current situation, that he hadn’t noticed how he was asking until you muttered a meek little,

“John, you’re scaring me.”

It had floored him completely. Nearly all thoughts shut down at that one little sentence as he stopped pacing, standing stiller than a statue, eyes now observing your red-rimmed eyes brimmed with tears, or the quiet sniffles you were making, trying to hide them as well. He could tell.

Guilt punched him in the gut harder than any enemy had ever done.

He’d never grown up in a bad family, per se. It was just traditional. His father ranted while his mother kept her mouth shut, listening patiently and serving his every need. He could still remember how angry his father had been at his older sister when she’d snuck out with a boy. How his father had screamed at her in the kitchen while she’d sobbed, his mother doing nothing but sitting silently at the table, like a ghost.

He’d been terrified at the time. Promised himself and his future spouse that he would never treat a woman, his woman, that way.

And here he was. Doing the same thing.

“Love,”

He cooed apologetically, eyes crinkling in the corners from worry, brows furrowing as he held both his hands out towards you, watching as your bottom lip wobbled a bit when you took a little step back.

You were afraid.

Of him.

He’d be an idiot to think you wouldn’t have a bit of fear after what he’d done, screaming at you, a small woman, being the large man he was. Of course, you’d be afraid.

“I’m sorry, bird, please.”

He tried again, tone taking on a hint more desperation as he offered you at least a hand. Tears fell freely in streams down your face now, clumping in your lashes and catching in the corners of your lips.

Only when the first sob tore through your body, did you finally relent and fold into his warm, strong arms. His familiar musk, a mix of whiskey, barbecue, and a campfire, enveloped your senses as you buried your head in his shoulder. His hand stroked up and down your back soothingly, large palm gently massaging the tension out unknowingly, while his other hand ran through your hair.

“I know, I was being a right ass, wasn’ I?”

He murmured, the hand in your hair moving to your knees as he gently bent them while picking you up bridal style, your weight barely even noticeable to him as his feet padded against the floor, the door to your bedroom creaking open and promptly shutting behind him before he sat on the edge of the bed with you. The sobs shaking your already-trembling body slowly subsided, leaving you feeling emptier than before.

Now sniffling, tears hardly dried, you replied.

“Yeah, you were.”

His calloused thumb wiped whatever wetness remained on your face away. Your lips were still in a pout, one he tried to erase by gently pressing his chapped lips against yours, pulling away, his eyes gazing deep into yours.

“Really, I’m sorry. Didn’t intend to get carried away.”

He murmured, and you sniffled again before replying.

“It’s fine, I guess.”

He let out a dissatisfied hum, pulling the blankets out from underneath both of your bodies to gently cover you. He was already practically a human furnace, not needing much to warm him.

“It’s not fine, shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

His hands curled around your waist once again, holding you just a bit closer, as if wanting to keep you close. To keep you safe.

You raised a brow, relaxing into the cuddles nicely as you melted into his body, hardly noticing the way his thumbs were rubbing little circles into your hips.

“Yeah? What’re you gonna do to make it up to me, then?”

You teased, voice a bit drowsy already. He let out a small hum of thought, one warm hand slipping down your thigh, slowly making its way in between and rubbing those little circles onto your inner thigh, now.

“I’ve got an idea.”

He mumbled, his hand temporarily returning to him as he licked the pad of his thumb, leaving a bit of spit on it before returning to your inner thigh, the same hand pushing both your shorts and underwear to the side as his thumb slowly grazed through your folds, that bit of spit acting as a lubricant.

A low purr of delight from you, one that only grew more vocal as his thumb began lazy circles around your clit, not teasing or holding back, just slowly working you up until your legs were trembling, hips jerking slightly and little gasps escaping your lips.

“There you go, almost there,”

He cooed as you let a little whimper slip from between your lips, that tight coil in your stomach building and building before your orgasm washed over you like a cool breeze in the summer heat.

“Good girl…”

He murmured softly as his hand slipped out of your pants, adjusting them back into place before going back to holding your body against his, helping you back to reality from whatever clouds your sleepy mind was floating in.

“Mm…John?”

You mumbled against his shoulder, and one hand went back to stroking your hair.

“Yes, pretty?”

He questioned, ignoring the breathy little incoherent noises you kept letting out amidst words.

“I forgive you, really this time.”

An airy chuckle from your drowsy husband as he held you a little bit closer, tucking the blanket in over you as he smiled against your skin, giving your forehead a little peck before he closed his eyes, mumbling one last thing, mainly to himself, before sleep claimed him.

“Don’t know what I’d do without you, love.”

[lixie-phoria]

↳ ♡₊˚. rest please ꒱

9th!member reader falling sick from overwork and stress

requested - yes // Would you be able to possibly do a skz x ninth reader where she’s not feeling well and like throws up everywhere, and chan and the members help her though her not feeling well then specifically chan?

gn!reader x ot8 // warnings - reader is overworked, faints, mentions of diets, reader throws up (lmk if I missed anything!)

there is only one bang chan. you're sure of it. but as you stand up from the floor of the dance room, you see double images of your leader looking at you in confusion.

"yn?"

his voice resonates through your head, like an echo from someplace far, concern woven through his urgency.

you should probably reply to him, right?

"yn? can you hear me?"

when he steps forward, the world shifts. a searing pain runs across your head, like a red hot spike drilling into your skull.

"wha-"

you see it happen in the mirror - your figure collapsing onto the ground, jeongin's panicked yell, and the thud that follows immediately after before everything goes black.

it was just the three of you in the practice room that day, the others too busy with vocal training or recording or filming. it was comeback season, and to top things off your solo project was nearing too, closely following the release of your group album. and to say that you were overworked was an understatement. you don't remember the last time you slept for longer than an hour.

your days revolved around practice, recording, photo shoots, diets, promotions, and what not. this was busiest you have ever been, and it was slowly starting to show.

you register a dull pain in your upper arm and the throbbing of your head as you blink up at the bright ceiling lights glaring at you. you're covered in sweat, lying on the couch with your head awkwardly propped up against it's arm rest.

"she's up!" someone shouts as your senses return to you slowly. you're still in the dance room, but everything feels stuffy. someone is pressing an ice pack against your forehead.

"yn you scared us!"

all the members seem to have assembled in the dance room, crowding over your figure.

"what happened?" your voice is hoarse and your head feels groggy as you sit up, leaning away from felix as he tries to push you back down.

"you fainted! you were out for nearly fifteen minutes!"

"what?"

"yeah. scared the life out of chan hyung," jeongin adds.

"of course she did! do you know how worried we were?"

you feel mortified. you can't believe you fainted in the middle of practice.

"are you ok? does anything hurt? you fell pretty hard."

you shake your head - no. of course, the pounding in your head was getting worse and you were sure you bruised your arm but you weren't going to tell them that. being the maknae meant they already babied you a lot. there was no way you would admit how sick you felt.

"alright good. let's leave then."

"leave?" you stare at chan in confusion as he goes to unplug his phone from the speaker.

"yeah. you don't think we're going to let you dance after this, right?"

your eye twitches in mild annoyance as you listen to him speak so matter of factly.

"how come i don't have a say in this?"

"because the last time we let you have your say, you passed out."

"i'm ok! i don't need a break," you hiss, eyes narrowing as chan turns to look at you exasperated.

"yn-"

"i passed out, so what? big deal! you can't just call off practice when we have an album coming out!"

your voice escalates as you snap, and the others look at you in shock.

"yn calm down-"

"stop asking me to calm down!"

you don't know where the burst of annoyance was coming from, but it was strong and red hot, urging you to take it out on your members.

"i'm fine! stop treating me like a baby!"

you push away felix's hand from your shoulder, standing up to prove your point.

but that was a big mistake.

an ugly feeling immediately rises up your chest, slithering through your throat as the world tilts again and the lights blink at you.

"fuck."

you were far from fine, and that is the last thing you register before pushing past lee know and han, running out of the room and to the nearest washroom you can find, heaving your insides out.

it's terrible, kneeling on the ground as your head pounds worse than ever and flashes fill your vision.

"yn!"

you distantly register chan's panicked voice as he skids into your cubical, wasting no time in kneeling down right beside you, pulling your hair up into a makeshift pony.

"i need you to breath, ynnie. let it all out," he whispers softly, rubbing a soothing hand up and down you back as your body tembles from the gags.

a small part of you wonders what chan is doing in the washroom, before realizing that in your hurry you probably ran into the common staff bathroom.

"are you feeling better?"

chan's hands hover behind your back as you weakly get to your feet, mustering the energy to pull the flush and rinse your mouth with water.

you can do nothing but nod, slumping against him as you exit the bathroom, and his hands immediately clasp your waist, holding you up.

"i'm so sorry," you mumble, closing your eyes as you let him guide you to wherever he decided was best.

"it's not your fault."

"i shouldn't have yelled at you."

"it's ok, yn. we all have our bad days."

you feel the cold breeze on your face as you open your eyes to see he's walking you out of the building's back door, with your manager waiting with the car.

"if I take you to the dorms will you please rest?"

your brain wants to refuse. you need to perfect your choreography. you don't have time for rest.

but your body is an entirely different story. you can barely walk or see straight.

"ok."

your voice is small, and chan immediately knows you're reluctant.

you hear him sigh softly as he helps you into the car before climbing in himself.

"ynnie, please rest. or you'll get worse and might not recover until the release day. wouldn't that be worse?"

he does have a point.

"and taking a break is okay. you're doing so well, you don't have to push yourself when there's nothing you're lacking in."

he ruffles your hair softly as you lean into the seat.

"thank you."

"don't thank me when I didn't even realise how overworked you were until you literally collapsed!"

you laugh softly, slightly leaning down to rest your head against his shoulder.

"don't blame your-"

you're cut off when Chan's ringtone blares into the silence and he jumps slightly, fishing out the device from his pocket.

"fuck."

"what's wrong?" You turn to look at his steadily paling face.

"I forgot to tell the others you're okay and I'm taking you back to the dorms."

"shit," you agree, wincing as chan hesitantly slides the accept button.

"hello...?"

"YAH WHERE ARE YOU BOTH WE'VE BEEN SEARCHING THE BUILDING FOR THE PAST 10 MINUTES IS YN OKAY?"

lee know is loud, and chan has to lean away from his phone as the second oldest's voice comes out loud enough as though he's on speaker.

"minho-ah I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you guys. She's okay now we're going to the dorms."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU FORGOT?"

you sigh before taking the phone from chan as his wince deepens.

"I'm okay. I'm so sorry for worrying you but please calm down."

the change in lee know's voice is so immediate it earns a snort from chan.

"oh yn, of course! Please take care, I'll bring back some soup and ramen for you when we come back from practice."

"thank you! Now please stop worrying."

you hand back chan his phone as he flashes you a grateful smile.

"i hope he brings me back ramen and soup too."

©lixie-phoria, 2024

taglist - @foxinnie8 @hamburgers101 @starlostlaiba @jiisungllvr (send an ask to be added/removed)

[santaasi]

enjoy the now

pairing: jj maybank x gf!reader

summary: left alone in the car, the tension grows by the second… and none of you are ready to resist it

warnings: mdni, smut 18+ (fingering, thigh riding, unprotected sex, piv, (small) nipple play), established relationship, fluff

word count: 3.2k

a/n: I finally have my laptop back! here is a lil' treat for all my jj fans. I'm still trying to solve the mystery how to write good smut, so i hope it’s not that bad as i think it is. AND THANK YOU ALL FOR 100 FOLLOWERS. LOVE YOU, LOVELIES <з

YOU RECLINED IN THE SEAT OF AN OLD VOLKSWAGEN, gazing out at the ocean, shimmering under the sun through the rolled-down window. The warm sea breeze caressed your sun-kissed skin, playfully sweeping your hair from your face. A soft smile graced your lips as you, at last, found a moment of true relaxation, savoring the weather and the company of your boyfriend, JJ, who sat at the wheel, occasionally stealing glances at you.

For nearly a year of your college romance, you and JJ monthly joined the Pogues for these trips. They were a perfect escape from the demands of your studies and the chaos of university life, especially in your senior year. Missing the last trip to the shore due to final exam preparations, you were now overjoyed to be back in good company and, most importantly, close to JJ. The flurry of exams and his job at the fitness club had kept you apart for the past two months, and you were in desperate need of cherished time with your wonderful boyfriend.

That's why when JJ suggested going in a separate car from the Pogues, you immediately agreed to rent you this small and old, but separate car from the noisy company. JJ's hand was lying on the bare part of your thigh, squeezing it softly. You felt how his long-awaited touches made your skin crawl, and every fleeting movement of his fingers sent a pulsation through your core.

JJ couldn’t tear his gaze away from you. It was the first time you’d been alone in weeks, stirring a tempest of emotions within him. During those busy days apart, JJ had longed for your attention, your kisses, your touch. But more than anything, he craved the intimacy of your body, the sound of your quiet moans, the sight of your eyes rolling with pleasure, and the sensation of your nails tracing fiery trails down his back in a fit of passion. These past few weeks, Maybank had been yearning madly for his beautiful girlfriend, and now, confined with you in the small car, his desire for you blazed hotter with each passing second.

You squirmed slightly in the seat, biting your lower lip. Your action did not escape JJ attentive gaze and he gave you a quick glance, grinning devilishly, starting to slowly stroke your skin moving a little closer to the hem of your dress. Your breathing faltered and you immediately turned back to the window, trying to calm the tension growing inside.

"It's a beautiful view, isn't it, Princess?" JJ's voice, hoarse after a long silence, cut through the silence. You nodded your head softly, still concentrating on the glistening surface of the water, feeling JJ's hand slowly creep under the skirt of your summer dress.

Your hand quickly grabbed his wrist before his fingers could reach your aching pussy. Swallowing, you licked your dry lips and cast a warning glance at your boyfriend. No matter how much you wanted him... the environment did not encourage you to have sex.

"Is something wrong, babe?" JJ asked with a grin, casting you a playful glance while keeping his focus on the road.

"Jay, this is not the place for..." you began, blushing slightly, choking on your own words.

JJ just grinned as he continued to slowly move his long ringed fingers up your thigh. The cold metal chilled your heated skin. You held your breath, trying to calm your racing heart. A soft moan escaped your lips as JJ grazed the fabric of your lacy underwear. The guy bit his lip, suppressing a chuckle.

"Relax, Princess. Let me take care of you..." JJ whispered softly, with one swift motion spreading your legs on the seat. You exhaled loudly, leaning back. "You were such a good girl… did so much for your exams, my smart perfect baby"

JJ's hand teasingly stroked the inside of your thigh, pinching the meaty part that he so much loved. You squealed and jumped on the spot, looking at the guy with displeasure, pouting your rose full lips. Maybank just laughed and carefully put the lacy fabric aside, moving his finger through your wet folds. You gasped, tightening your fingers around his wrist.

“Jay, we can’t–” you tried to protest, but when he start spreading your slickness up and down your folds all words died in your throat. You closed your eyes taking a deep breath and your hips involuntarily moved into his hand, trying to make some long awaited friction.

“We can do anything, baby," Maybank murmured into your ear, looking straight ahead at the road.

JJ slapped your thigh, forcing you to spread your legs wider. It was the point of no return, when desire and lust clouded your brain, preventing you from thinking well. All you could feel was euphoria from each new touch of JJ's fingers on your pussy. You could feel him touching you, sliding his fingers over your arousal, barely giving attention to the throbbing hole that was longing to be filled.

"Jay..." you whimpered, breathing heavily. You pushed your hips a little bit father, feeling his fingertips touch the puffy walls for a second, but Maybank immediately withdrew his hand, licking his fingers clean with a smug smile in his face.

“Hey!” you protested, looking with shock and disappointment at your nonchalant boyfriend.

“What’s that, pretty girl? I thought you said it’s not what you wanted” JJ smirked, taking a quick look at you.

You crossed your arms over your chest, puffing up your lips. Your chest was heaving rapidly from the lust you felt for your boyfriend. Only now did you notice how his white T-shirt perfectly emphasized the musculature of his body. How his hair was in perfect condition for the first time in his life, but you wanted to ruin it with your fingers running them through it, pulling him closer to you. How his eyes, which were usually blue as calm in the ocean, took on a deeper shade, like the ocean before a storm. You swallowed nervously, feeling your pussy getting wetter just from looking at JJ.

"Please," you whispered faintly, concentrating all your attention on his big hands, which lay relaxed on the steering wheel. His silvery, perfectly polished rings glittered in the sun like pre-precious stones, but all you could think about was how pleasantly cool metal would feel inside you when JJ will fuck you with his fingers, making you a total mess right on this seat. You clenched your hips, shaking with your whole body from the need to feel at least some kind of friction.

“Please what, girly? Tell papa J what you want” taunted JJ, watching how you’re getting all flustered and shy at one moment. It was always his pleasure to tease you before sex, to bring you on edge and to make you a mess just from his words. And you knew all his games perfectly well… but it never prevented you from being timid with his words and looking like a ripe tomato in your mother’s garden.

"I want to feel you… please," you mumbled playing with the hem of your dress.

Lifting your innocent gaze, which you knew was driving him crazy, you batted your fluffy eyelashes, smiling sweetly at him. From this picture, JJ felt the heat rush to his cock, making his jeans uncomfortably tight.

You slowly ran your fingernail along his arm from wrist to shoulder, feeling a wave of goosebumps run through his body. You slowly took the closest hand to you off the steering wheel and put it back on your bare hips, this time lifting the dress yourself, presenting the pink lace panties to JJ's gaze.

You could almost see the gears turning in JJ's mind, each move carefully considered, while you sat so beautiful and sweet in the front seat. Maybank just wanted to tease you, to play and leave you confused and flushed. JJ knew you would never agree to make love anywhere but in bed — he had tried many times to seduce you in public places, but you had always refused. That’s why seeing you so aroused and willing in that old buggy was a revelation to him.

JJ cursed under his breath as he pulled over to the side of the road in the middle of the wasteland, but in that moment, he didn't care if anyone might see you. His mind was consumed by thoughts of you and the desire straining in his pants. Without wasting a second, JJ pulled you by the neck into a heated kiss. You flinched in surprise, but quickly began clumsily climbing over the gearbox, trying not to break the kiss. JJ laughed against your lips before grabbing your hips and settling you on his lap.

As soon as you felt contact with the fabric of his rough cargo shorts, you slowly began to move your hips, feeling them slide pleasantly over your lacy covered pussy. Your hands ran into his dirty blond hair, pulling him closer, trying to feel him with every cell of your body. But it wasn't enough. An impatient sob escaped your lips as JJ began to slowly suck on the delicate skin of your neck while his hand pushed your hips to move. You were breathing heavily, writhing on his hips, feeling his boner through the fabric of his shorts. And you wanted more. You wanted to feel him completely after so many weeks.

"JJ, please... please baby... I want more… Fuck, please, g-give me more!" you whispered, almost crying.

"Fuck, doll, you're going to be the end of me..." the guy growled into your neck, biting her, leaving a bright red mark.

You whimpered, voice trembling with need. "Please… fuck me." You could feel the aching heat between you two, your fingers tugging at the waistband of JJ's shorts, desperate for more.

JJ chuckled, a low, gravelly sound that sent a shiver down your spine. With a swift motion, he lifted your hips, peeling his shorts and boxers away, baring him fully to the cool air. JJ's body quivered as his erection sprang free, and your breath hitched as his gaze darkened with desire.

Without hesitation, your hand found him, fingers gently wrapping around his length, brushing over the sensitive head. A sharp intake of breath escaped JJ's lips, his chest rising and falling in ragged anticipation, the soft hiss of pleasure hanging in the charged space between you.

"Fuck, princess… I won’t last long, so…" JJ's voice was thick with need.

With a swift motion, he pulled your hands from his throbbing length and guided you down onto him, inch by inch, your hips sinking slowly until he was buried completely inside. You gasped, your walls stretching to accommodate him, the sensation overwhelming as your body trembled.

"Give… give me a minute, Jay," you whispered breathlessly, brushing your lips against his in a soft, lingering kiss. JJ's lips curved into a smile as he kissed a trail down your jaw, his mouth hot and insistent as it traveled to your neck and shoulder. His hands explored your body in slow, deliberate strokes, squeezing your ass, your waist, before his fingers found the zipper of your dress, tugging it down with practiced ease. His teeth grazed your shoulder, pulling down the thin strap of your dress, baring your breasts to him.

His hand cupped one breast, thumb teasing the sensitive peak as his mouth descended on the other, lips and tongue circling your nipple in a maddening rhythm. You moaned softly, arching into him, your back curving as you placed your hands on his shoulders for balance. JJ’s mouth shifted, giving the same tantalizing attention to your other breast, biting gently, his tongue flicking in delicious torment.

Unable to hold back any longer, you kissed him deeply, your mouths colliding in a heated clash, and you slowly lifted your hips. The first movement sending a jolt of pleasure that rippled through your body like electricity. JJ's hands gripped your hips, guiding you, bodies moving together in a sensual rhythm.

With each rise and fall, you felt the fullness of him inside you, the friction driving you closer to the edge. JJ’s hot breath fanned against your neck, his grip tightening as you began to ride him harder, pace quickening. The deep growl that escaped his throat spurred you on, the pressure building as you bounced harder, feeling him hit that perfect spot inside you again and again.

Your movements began to falter, thighs burning with exhaustion, each bounce on JJ’s lap growing slower. A small frown creased your brow, frustration building as your body gave out before your desire.

"Jay… I can’t… I’m so tired…" you whimpered, hips rolling in slow circles as you tried to maintain the rhythm. Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears of disappointment, lips trembling as you struggled to keep going.

JJ chuckled softly, his voice rough with both affection and arousal. He cupped your flushed cheeks with both hands, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"Aww, is my little princess getting tired already?" he teased, his breath warm against your skin. "Looks like I’ve gotta take over, huh? Can’t leave you hanging." He kissed you again, this time feather-light touches along your face, his lips tracing a teasing path.

You whimpered again, your eyes half-lidded with need, and JJ’s blue eyes darkened with lust, nearly black as they locked onto yours.

"Jay, please…" you whispered, your hips giving a small, pleading shift.

"So needy, aren’t ya?" he grinned, his voice a low growl as he shifted beneath you, leaning back into the seat. In one fluid motion, he lifted your hips, positioning you perfectly. "Hold on tight, angel," he murmured, amusement dancing in his tone.

Before you could respond, JJ thrust up into you with a sudden, powerful motion. Your breath caught, a loud, raw moan escaping your lips as your body reacted instantly to the deep, intense pressure.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, cries growing louder, breath coming in quick, ragged gasps as he pounded into you relentlessly. Your head fell against his shoulder, tears slipping down your cheeks from the overwhelming sensation, every hard thrust sending you spiralling further into pleasure.

"Fuck, babydoll… this pussy was made for me," JJ growled low in your ear, his voice thick and possessive, making your entire body shudder as you melted into his rhythm.

With each thrust, you felt yourself unraveling, the intensity of his words and his touch driving you closer to the edge, until all you could do was hold on and let him take you completely.

"Damn it! Fuck! Jay, I’m gonna come…" you gasped, swallowing hard as you cupped his face with trembling hands, leaning in to capture his lips in a deep, lingering kiss.

“Don’t hold back, babe! Cum for me! Come on, give it to me, just like that!” JJ urged, his voice low and commanding as he continued to drive into you. Your bodies moving in perfect harmony. His hand slid down between you, finding your clit, fingers working it with quick, skillful strokes.

A scream tore from your throat as pleasure washed over youlike a tidal wave, overwhelming your senses. Even as your orgasm crashed through, you could feel JJ thrusting inside you, his movements becoming more frantic as your body tightened around him, pulling him closer to the edge.

You went limp in his arms, every nerve ending alive with sensation, as if lightning bolts coursed through your veins, leaving you breathless and quaking with pleasure.

“Fuck, baby!” he growled, gripping your hips tightly, his voice thick with desire as he thrust hard one last time, filling you up completely with his warmth. You shuddered beneath him, a loud moan escaping your lips as you lost yourself in the aftershocks of your orgasm, vision exploding with stars.

JJ continued to move softly inside you for a few more moments before stilling, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close, bodies entwined.

"God, princess, you were incredible! I almost forgot how perfect you feel around me," he whispered in your ear, breathless and exhilarated. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his fingers gently stroking your back and running through your hair. "So perfect… and all mine. Only mine."

“Mhm, yours…” you murmured softly, slowly coming back. You lifted your head from his chest, gazing up at him with dreamy eyes. A playful smile crossed your lips. "I bet John B and the others are freaking out… they must’ve lost us."

You leaned in, leaving a soft kiss on his neck, feeling the warmth of your connection linger in the air between you two.

JJ chuckled, brushing a lock of hair from your flushed face before placing soft kisses on your cheek and then capturing your lips in a lingering, tender kiss.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head as you savoured the warmth of his touch. "Not too much… but I don’t want them to start teasing us again. You know how they are — they’ll say all we do is fuck every chance we get," you giggled, gently pulling back from him, though still feeling the weight of his now-soft cock inside you, your bodies still intimately connected.

With a slow, satisfied sigh, you rose on shaky legs, body still tingling from the aftershocks. As you lifted yourself off of him, you felt an ache of separation as your bodies parted. You slid back into her seat, adjusting your dress with a soft smile.

JJ grinned, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "As if they’re wrong about that… How am I supposed to control myself when my girlfriend is this fucking irresistible?" He gently cupped your cheek, the warmth of his touch sending a flutter through your chest.

Blushing, you looked away, your heart racing as you fumbled for the pack of wipes in your bag. "You’re impossible…" you muttered with a smile, cleaning up and wiping the evidence of your passion from the seats. After handing JJ a wipe, you leaned into the backseat, searching for your bikini.

JJ’s eyes followed your every movement, his gaze heavy with admiration. Unable to resist, he gave your ass a playful slap. You shot him a mock glare over your shoulder, a teasing glint in your eyes as you sat back in the seat and pulled on your panties.

"Always gotta get one last touch in, don’t you?" you teased, shaking your head as you finished adjusting the clothes.

JJ grinned, leaning back and tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "With you? Always," he said softly, his voice full of warmth and tenderness now. He reached out, pulling you close again, your lips brushing in a kiss that felt slower, deeper, filled with affection.

For a moment, the world outside the car faded away. It was just you two, wrapped in the warm afterglow of your connection. You smiled into the kiss, your heart full as you leaned your forehead against his.

"Guess we should get back before they really start looking for us," you whispered, though there was no urgency in your voice.

JJ smiled lazily, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. "Yeah, but maybe… in a minute." He kissed you again, slower this time, savouring the moment, as if the rest of the world could wait a little longer.

thankx for reading <3

it was a hard few months for me but i’m glad that slowly everything is going to normal. as usual, i hope you liked my work and will leave like or do repost. you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

p.s. and also send me requests, pretty please!

- your santi 🪐

masterlist