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lipglossanon · 4 months ago

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Deed I Do

Real Dad Dogman!Leon S. Kennedy x Daughter Puppy!reader (one shot)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, incest, age gap (Leon is late 40’s and reader is late 20’s), hybrids, jealous Leon, short and sweet, dirty talk, grinding, unprotected sex, breeding kink, knotting, creampie

ETA: this was a commission but I’m a dumbass 😭

Kofi commish by @bumpkin-batch

Word count: 1999

title from Deed I Do by Ruth Etting

Leon stretches, bones and joints popping loudly.

“Looking forward to that retirement, I’ll bet,” Jill jokes as she passes by him to sit at the desk behind Chris’.

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolls his eyes and stands up from his desk chair.

He usually works away from Chris’ desk, out on patrol alongside his owner, but after turning 40, they kept him pushing paper and training new pups. This new batch coming in has him excited, although he’d never admit it. It’s the very first litter he sired back when he was in the breeding program decades ago.

“Aww, aren’t they cute!” Rebecca coos as Chris brings in the new lineup of would-be police dogs.

Leon would roll his eyes, but he’s too busy cataloging each of the new pups. There are seven in all—five boys and two girls. Aside from the girl on the end, they’re all stoic and calm. She, on the other hand, keeps letting her emotions get the best of her—tail wagging happily before remembering to stay still.

Leon has a really good feeling she won’t be cut out for police work. It sends a little pang of worry through his chest, but he squashes it down in favor of watching them. As they’re put through their paces, Leon keeps an eye out on the girl. Just to make sure she does what she’s told.

Weeks fly by in this new routine. A few of the recruits are turning out not to be fit for police work. The girl is definitely too friendly and useless at trying to apprehend someone breaking the law. Another pup, a boy, is too hyper. He’s already broken through three harnesses and accidentally bit an officer.

But still, five out of seven new police dogs isn’t anything to sneeze at; Leon’s proud the majority have what it takes, like himself. The boy’s already been adopted by Barry. His two daughters have been begging for a hybrid to play with after school, and with his energy, he’ll be a perfect fit. The girl, on the other hand, is much too sweet and soft. Leon’s been keeping an ear out for what they’re going to do with her.

He’s taken a liking to the pup; she’s earnest and kind, something he doesn’t get to see every day. She’s started to hang around Chris’ desk with him when the recruits have free time. It could explain why Chris suddenly springs it on him that he’s taking her home at the end of the week.

“She’s just not going to fit in here,” the dark haired man gestures to the empty office, “and I don’t want her going to a shelter to sit for god knows how long. You two get along, and this way you won’t be home alone when you retire next month.”

Leon scoffs, but secretly he’s extremely pleased about the new situation. His own little girl is getting to stay with him. He can teach her all the things she wouldn’t learn here, especially with him being gone. And she’s so sweet. He’s happy he can spend this time with her and not have to worry about the job.

Friday rolls around, and you’re a ball of joy. Leon even finds himself smiling at your excited chattering while he leads you out to Chris’ vehicle. You grow quiet on the drive to your new home, but your tail wagging assures Leon that you’re happy. Chris helps you get settled into your new room, right next to Leon, and gives you a quick tour of the house as the dogman follows behind.

There are a few bumps in dealing with a new pup in his space, but Leon wouldn’t change it for anything. He’s looking forward to retirement just that much more. In the meantime, he shows you the ropes. Cuddling, playing, annoying Chris—you guys do it all together. You groom each other too, something Leon finds himself seeking out more and more. Lately, you’ve been smelling downright edible.

He’s had to excuse himself from your cuddling before he gets too hard to hide it. You’ve also been extra clingy lately, practically gluing yourself to him at every chance you get. Leon calls it quits midweek, and as soon as Chris opens the front door, you’re pressed all along Leon’s side with a wide smile.

“Congratulations!” You kiss his cheek, and he gets a whiff of something sweet and tart, making his mouth water.

You usher him into the kitchen and throw out your hands, “Ta-da! I made your favorite!”

Grinning, he ruffles your ears, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

You bite your lip, ducking your head out of shyness, “Thanks, dad. I hope you like it.”

Picking up the fork, Leon takes a bite of the lemon cake. Sweet.. tangy.. soft.. moist. The errant thought that this is what your cunt might be like makes his eyes flutter closed with a groan.

“It’s good?” Your eyes peer at him, ears perking up.

“Delicious,” he pats your head, and your tail whips back and forth.

“Chris, you have to try some!” You call out, heading back into the living room.

Leon takes a few more bites, mouth salivating at the taste. He needs to get his shit together. You bring Chris into the kitchen with you, and Leon watches him shower you with praise over the dessert. You become more and more flustered, and an ugly feeling of jealousy rears its head in his chest.

“You okay?”

With a start, Leon blinks, realizing a low growl has been building up in his chest.

“Yeah, sorry, just thinking about something,” he clears his throat. “Well, I’m beat, so I’m going to take a shower and head to bed.”

“Oh, okay,” your ears droop, and it makes his heart hurt.

“Did you need me?”

You pick at your nails, “Could we watch a movie together? I’m feeling kinda under the weather.”

Warm satisfaction suffuses him over your asking him and not Chris, “Sure, just meet me in my room once I finish showering.”

“Okay!” You smile brightly and hurry off to your room.

“I’m glad you guys are getting along,” Chris chuckles before stuffing another bite of cake into his mouth.

“Don’t eat all of it,” Leon points to the dessert, “that’s technically for me.”

“It’s one slice,” Chris rolls his eyes.

Leon’s nose twitches, and he waves his owner off, heading to the bathroom. After showering, Leon wraps his lower waist with a towel before realizing he didn’t bring a change of clothes. It’s a habit he’ll have to learn to break since you’ve moved in. Sighing to himself, he makes his way to his room, hoping you haven’t come in just yet.

His hopes are dashed when he sees your wide-eyed look as you lay in bed. His sheets are gonna smell like you, and it makes his cock twitch. Pulling in a deep breath to calm himself, he nearly chokes as your sweet scent floods his nose. He knows he’s looking at you a little too heatedly.

“Sorry, I’ll get dressed.” He finally breaks eye contact and heads to his dresser.

He throws on an old tee and slips on a pair of sweats under the towel before tossing it in the hamper. You scooch over to make room for him, and as soon as he’s lying back, you’re practically clambering on top of him. You throw one thigh over his legs, the heat of your cunt a hot brand against his leg. Burying your face against his chest, you nuzzle and scent your way up to his neck.

“Dad,” you whine, “I feel sick.”

“Sick how?” He murmurs, trying to clear the fog in his brain as you subtly grind against him. “Have you been taking your meds?”

You shake your head no, pressing your nose against the pulse in his neck.

“I ran out. Chris is s’posed to pick them up tomorrow,” you mumble, lips brushing against his skin and raising the hair on his neck.

“Oh, baby,” he croons, cock chubbing in his sweats. “It’s heat sickness, my sweet pup.”

No wonder you’ve smelled so good lately. He grips your hips and helps you straddle his lap.

“Take these off,” he snaps the band of your shorts, “gonna make my sweet girl feel better.”

Whimpering, you quickly slip off all your clothes until you’re sitting completely naked on his thighs. He pushes his sweats down just enough to free his hardening cock.

Your tail thumps against his legs. “Smell so good, dad.”

“So do you, baby,” he helps you sit your chubby pussy on his cock, pressing the thick length against his abs. “Just rub against me.”

Nodding your head, you brace your hands on his forearms as they grip your hips. Whining, your pussy lips part around his cock, and you slowly rut against him, dragging your slick all along his fat dick.

“That’s it, doing so good giving daddy a pussy job,” he groans, jerking you back and forth as you frot against him.

Whining, you hump down against his cock, precum and slick smearing across your cunt until there’s a sticky mess between you both. Leon grunts, feeling his knot starting to form at the base of his dick.

“Fuck, gonna make daddy pop his knot, baby,” he drops his head back as you moan loudly.

“Want it, please dad, my pussy feels so empty,” you pull away, shiny strings of slick clinging to his cock.

“Shh, shh,” he runs his palms up your thighs before bringing one hand back down to grip his cock. “I’ll give it to you, but you gotta be quiet for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, biting your lip when Leon slaps his cock against your pudgy clit.

He uses his thumb to press the head down to guide it into your drooling hole. You both pant and sigh as you slowly sink your cunt down until you're flush with your dad’s hips. Leon’s eyes nearly cross from how tight you are, walls soft and wet as they squeeze his cock.

“So good, fuck, gonna knot you, sweetheart, knot this sweet little pussy,” he growls out, pulling out to shove you down onto the mattress.

He manhandles you onto your stomach and yanks your hips up before fucking his cock back into you, bottoming out in your squelching heat. He sees you bite down on the pillow to muffle the cry that slips from your mouth. Your pussy flutters and grips his cock tightly, sucking him in until the tip kisses your cervix. Growling low, he roughly pumps his hips, slipping his cock in and out of your perfect pussy.

“You’re perfect, fucking meant for me,” he leans forward to bite and kiss your neck, “fat pussy a perfect fit for my cock.”

“Dad, dad, feels so good,” you whimper brokenly, “want your knot, want your pups, daddy.”

“Fuck,” he snarls against your ear, cock pistoning deeper into your greedy hole. “Cum for me, pup, and I’ll knot your wet pussy.”

He reaches underneath you to circle and pinch your swollen clit. You thrash and buck against him, mewling and gasping as he works you closer to your orgasm. His knot catches at your hole, and as soon as your back arches, your pussy cumming around his cock, he shoves his knot past your clenching hole and locks you together.

“Dad!” You cry out, voice muffled from where you’re pressed into the sheets.

“Ohhh,” he lazily humps your ass, rutting his cock and knot deeper into your cunt, “so good, baby. You did so well for daddy.”

You hum happily, and he nuzzles against your neck, laying you both on your sides so you can rest comfortably.

“I’ll fill you up again later to keep you from getting sick,” he murmurs in your ear and groans when your pussy milks and pulses around his cock.

“Thanks, dad.”

He smiles and presses a kiss on your hair. He really does have a sweet pup.

#real dad!leon s kennedy #dogman!leon s kennedy #fem!reader #hybrid au #hybrid!leon #puppy!reader #daughter!reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #dldr #read the warnings

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tom-foolery-incorporated · 3 months ago

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Envy

Soundwave is jealous Shockwave gets to have a pet.

Cyberverse, Shockwave x reader, AFAB human gender neutral reader, racially ambiguous, Soundwave has a crush on the reader, voyeurism, possessive Shockwave, slight breeding kink

It wasn’t fair how Shockwave got to keep a pet. In fact it was quite strange to see Shockwave take to anyone let alone an organic.

Homosapien, the species if primate that took their planet and molded it to their liking. Humans could be considered the dominant species in terms of the impact their presence has made.

Compared to Cybertronians, humans are so simple. Their issues, their wars, their joys all so simple. However despite this, or maybe because of this, Shockwave managed to find himself a doting pet.

For some reason it made Soundwave’s inner most energon come to a boil. It bubbled behind his spark seeing you so cutely perched atop Shockwave’s shoulder plate, holding onto one of his finials for balance, with your legs resting over his chasis.

Maybe he was just disgusted that Shockwave would let an organic being, sloppy and mucus producing, be so close to him let alone touch him. Maybe he was enraged with how Shockwave coddled you and kept you from speaking to the other Decepticons. You were an adult of your inferior species, if you misspoke and ended up squashed that shouldn’t be Shockwave’s responsibility.

Seeing you perched on Shockwave’s shoulder, head resting against his optic helm, very obviously bored with their meeting made something in Soundwave so furious he couldn’t describe it. He observed you from behind his red visor, your organic fibers pressed against Shockwave’s purple plating. What did those fibers feel like? Corse? Soft? Wirey? Why did you even have those silly fibers growing from your organic plating anyway.

Skin.

Soundwave remembered overhearing you correct Shockwave and tell him it was skin that covered your frame.

Frag, you corrected Shockwave and he didn’t dispose of your pathetic little body that instant.

Just why did Shockwave keep you around so much? Why did such a proud and logical mech succumb to such desires as to keep an organic pet like some low Autobot?

The way you nuzzled your face against Shockwave’s optic helm and absentmindedly stroked his finial with one of your much smaller hands made Soundwave’s spark irk. It was like you were punching him in his abdomen. Your soft and squishy meat hands managed to make the metal of his frame bend in jealousy.

No!

Soundwave was not jealous! Your soft form perched atop his rival’s shoulder shouldn’t make him feel so angry. Yet here he was seething in silence trying to make sense of his jealousy. Perhaps he wanted another cassette bot to accompany Lazerbeak? A small cassette bot he could have perched on his shoulder. One that would dote on him like you do Shockwave. A cassette bot that would stroke his faceplate, press gentle kisses across his mask, and calm him down.

“It’s okay,” the cassette bot would purr rubbing their soft face against his metal plating. “I’m your now. I’m all yours.” Little fibers tickling his audial receptor as his little cassette nuzzles him. Little fabric coverings bunching under his servo as he holds them against his chasis. You’d look so cute waiting for him in his habsuite, a cube of energon ready for him as you eagerly reach up to wrap your arms around him.

Soundwave shook his head finding his processor had conjured a fantasy he wasn’t entirely sure was his. Yet whose else’s fantasy could it be?

He could only stare at you so perfectly perched on Shockwave’s shoulder. Your eyes looked glazed over and your eyelids would shut periodically. Soundwave couldn’t figure out why he found the human recharge state so cute.

Then you looked at him.

Your tired gaze moved to Soundwave. He had heard that humans were sensitive to being stared at. It was amazing seeing how you could sense his gaze without even looking at him. Your eyes wandered over his frame in a bored manner before offering Soundwave a small smile.

He swore his spark stopped.

You then cuddled your face against Shockwave and closed your eyes. How could such a small organic feel so comfortable around mechs twice their size? Mechs that would kill them if they were only just a little bored. Do you really trust Shockwave enough to protect you against that? Shockwave? Of all mechs??

Soundwave wandered the various decks of the Nemesis ordering Decepticon foot soldiers to do various tasks to cover up the fact that he was trying to clear his mind.

Your soft organic features squished against Shockwave’s helm during the last bits of the meeting was imprinted on Soundwave’s processor. Your cute little intake parted open as you slept through the Decepticon High Command discussing strategy.

Your intake looked so soft. He’d seen you apply some sort of balm to your intake giving it a mild shine and a fruity smell. Soundwave had gotten the luxury of walking into Shockwave’s lab only to see you apply the balm then press your plush intake against Shockwave’s optic. Little wet kiss marks covered the side of his helmet as he worked.

Soundwave recorded the entire thing and meant to use it as blackmail against Shockwave but for some reason he couldn’t stop replaying the video. Cute little organic intake kissing the side of a big bad Decepticon’s helm like they were a sparkling.

Spundwave’s fantasy was thrown off when he heard a whine then a gasp. The noises sounded too airy to be caused by someone in pain so that meant-

Shockwave’s lab.

He was right in front of Shockwave’s lab.

Soundwave pushed the metal door open slightly only to peek in to see the source of the noise.

Your little form splayed on the table Shockwave used to operate on, sweat dripping off your body, your precious lips parted in wanting moans.

Soundwave couldn’t remove his optics from the scene. He couldn’t pry his gaze from how Shockwave’s servo dug into your thigh, squishing the meat there under his grasp, as he held your legs open. His spike buried halfway inside of you yet still more than enough to cause a bump on your lower abdomen.

Soundwave watched in awe as the bump would shrink then rise again with every thrust of Shockwave’s pelvis.

“You did excellent today,” Shockwave praised. You only moaned out his name reaching your little hands up towards him. The purple mech indulged by leaning down so you can grab onto his chasis. “You have been very well behaved,” Shockwave said in almost a whisper. “It is only logical to reinforce such behavior with a reward.” He ran his servo up your thigh to your hip grabbing the fat there and pulling you down with every thrust. His canon arm keeping him balanced on the table next to you as his pelvis swung into yours. Wet slopping sounds could be heard and Soundwave made sure to record them all.

His servo glided down to his modesty panel as it hissed open. Soundwave’s spike sprung out already glistening with transfluid. He rubbed his servo over the blue metal as he disabled his vocalizers.

Soundwave wondered what you felt like. He was thoroughly impressed that you were even able to take spike from a mech of Shockwave’s size. Considering your size difference, Soundwave assumed you’d be a tight fit. His servo gripped his spike harder trying to emulate what he thought your organic valve felt like.

Shockwave’s lab was filled with your sounds. Moans of his name, wet schlick from your pussy, your pleas for more from Shockwave. What more could you take? You could barely fit half his spike inside of you yet you want more?

Soundwave felt his servo quicken at how thoroughly used you looked. It was obvious Shockwave had been tormenting you for a while by the sounds of the leaky mess between your legs and the glistening sweat on your body.

“You will take my transfluid,” Shockwave said with a slight glitch in his voice. “Am I understood?”

You nodded eagerly. You lifted your pelvis giving Shockwave more room to use you like a spike sleeve. “Afterwards you are to use the plug I gave you,” Shockwave’s hips started to falter.

Plug?

Soundwave nearly overloaded onto the door to the lab. Shockwave had been filling you up with his overload then plugging up your little human valve to keep him inside. He wondered if you were wearing a plug during the meeting. Were you filled with transfluid with a cute plug keeping everything inside when you smiled at him?

Soundwave couldn’t control the way his servo moved. It should be his transfluid inside of you. Maybe Soundwave could fuck you well enough that he could push Shockwave’s tainted overload out of your pussy and replace that emptiness with his instead.

How cute would you look bent over, panting for air and leaking so much transfluid it forms a puddle under you. Soundwave would have to plug you up with his digits to make sure you didn’t waste anymore before filling you up all over again as punishment.

The shriek you let out of Shockwave’s name made Soundwave boil with rage yet the noise of you wailing in such pleasure was enough to throw him over the edge. Pink glowing fluid splattered against the door to the lab as Soundwave continued to ride out his high.

Around your spent hole, the same fluid leaked around Shockwave’s spike. His engine revving and his vents stuttering in bliss. His little pet, his perfectly trained spike sleeve. His and his alone; which reminded him.

A message appeared at the corner of Soundwave’s vision: “I hope we have come to a mutual understanding in regards to who the human belongs to.”

Soundwave leaned back against the other door confused in his post orgasmic haze before being hit with realization. He flipped his helmet around to look back into the room to see Shockwave looking at him from the corner of his optic as he tenderly caressed your body.

Your intake formed into a smile as you stretched and moaned under Shockwave’s servo. Your poor little brain filled with nothing but pure bliss at being filled with Shockwave’s overload.

Soundwave looked at his transfluid soaked servo then at the door he made a mess of then back at you being pampered by Shockwave.

The scientist’s servo slid back down to your human valve rubbing at your clit with his thumb. You squirmed under him with your eyebrows furrowed. Your moans a mixture of pain and pleasure all the while Shockwave stared at Soundwave through his hiding spot to further rub in whose pet you were.

#transformers #shockwave x reader #soundwave x reader #shockwave #soundwave #valveplug #valveplug x reader #shockwave x reader valveplug #soundwave x reader valveplug #transformers smut #cyberverse x reader #transformers cyberverse

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pseudowho · 6 months ago

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You both forget. Every time.

Everything within you clenches, shivering and coming down from your high, in time to hear Kento gasp behind you, drowning in euphoria.

Cursing under his breath, Kento's thrusts become slower and shallower; he barely pulls out, groaning as his cock jerks within you, filling you with sluggish, sticky stripes of his seed. He gasps, face contorted in bliss, his powerful body buckling under the force of his peak. You only wish you could see his face, eyes closing to imagine it instead.

You couldn't move if you wanted to; the primal breeding centre of his brain urges his fingers to grip your hips with stunning force, holding you back onto him. You're vulnerable, impaled as he fills you, balls clenched tight and pulsing.

You grin, face down and goofy with pleasure, that core part of you satisfied to feel him spill himself inside you. You can almost hear the sanctuary in your belly, calling him home, drinking him in.

Every time. Every time, you forget.

Your husband finally comes back, behind you, having been replaced by a beast for a moment. You call out to him, your voice sweet and dopey.

"Hi, Kento."

"...y-yeah...hi."

"Hi."

Kento chuckles, low and breathless, holding you back onto him as he threatens to slip out. He realises.

Every fucking time.

"Shit, have you-- have you got anything...anything to hand?"

"Err..."

You hear him huff behind you, turning into a laugh. A low rumbling reassurance.

"Alright...move with me."

You giggle, moving your arse with his hips to keep him plugged within you. Kento splays his hand over the bed, hunting, hunting--

"Every time," he grumbles, floundering as his softening cock begins to slip out of you, "every fucking time-- been years-- think we'd remember--"

"Clearly my pussy game is just too good--"

"You're fucking right, too good-- distractingly good pussy game-- a-ha!"

Kento's hand clasps his discarded shirt, and you squeak when he claps his hand between your legs. You're laughing as you crumple forwards, his cock slipping free and his shirt being squashed between your legs. A telltale trickle of cum soaks into the soft fabric, just in time.

Every time.

You feel a trail of lazy, open-mouthed kisses down your spine, your hips, your sacral curve, squealing and laughing as his teeth nip into your bottom. You wiggle, certain you're still alluring with his cum-stained shirt between your legs. You're right; you are. It earns you a gruff little slap to the arse and you laugh again.

"...hang on--" Kento groans, wobbling on cum-drunk legs, his cock still half-hard, as if he'll have any life left in him before he passes out, face down on your breasts. "Hang on...you deserve better...than a fucking shirt."

"Noooo!" You cry, grinning as you snuggle under the duvet, your eyes drooping. "I love ruining your shirts."

"That's because you're tacky. And classless."

You laugh again, knowing he's right. You're protesting without protest when Kento returns, smirking and battling your legs open to retrieve his shirt and replace it with a warm flannel.

He wouldn't have it any other way. Every fucking time.

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muzansfangs · 1 year ago

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Immoral cravings.

Starring: Nanami Kento x f!reader; Toji Fushiguro x f!reader; Hiromi Higuruma x f!reader;

Format: short-imagines;

Warnings: nsfw, age gap but the reader is 21, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, creampie, dirty talk, unprotected sex, praise kink, size kink, daddy kink, semi-public sex, hair pulling, spanking, marking the partner, power imbalance, immoral relationships, morally grey decisions and men, revenge sex, slut shaming, choking, overstimulation, breeding kink, implied reference to pregnancy (Hiromi);

Plot: they are older than you and you both know your relationship is not exactly healthy. The charm of an older man, a real one, the allure of having someone you should not even think about in such a lewd way were unbearable thoughts weighing on your conflicted mind, though. You gave in, in the end, allowing them to ruin you in ‘worst’ way possible.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Nanami Kento.

You always pested him during his lunch break. At first, it was unintentional. You just dropped by your father’s office to check out on him, walking down the corridor with that ridiculously short skirt. You were a sinful sight for him. He tried to ignore you, going as far as keeping on working and not flicking his gaze up to greet you.

However, not averting his eyes from the screen to soak in your curves was impossible. He started to loathe your beauty. The sound of your voice was enough to make his pants feel too tight. He did not blame you for striking up frivolous conversations with him, or wearing such provocative attires, though. At least, he did not accuse you of messing with him until he realized you had got the hint of what you were doing to him.

You turned into a pest.

Hopping onto his desk, defiant smile gracing your glossy lips, you made sure to spread your legs enough to let him catch a glimpse of your panties. Those stupid white panties, evoking purity and virginity. Did you think you could fool him? You were far from being a celestial being. You were a freaking demon relentlessly testing his nerves. But he was done with you and your pathetic entr’acte.

You were soon going to deal with the painful problem you caused him every single time you casually waltzed into the office with the only intent of driving him mad.

His hand latched onto the back of your neck, pushing your cheek against the mirror in front of you, was the clear sign of how much you had pissed him off. Your skirt hiked up to your hips, as your hands were firmly curled up around the edge of the sink, you let a strained moan leave your lips for a particularly hard thrust hitting your g-spot.

You had lost the count of how many times he had made you come, milking his dick deliciously to make it up for the pent up anger you had caused him.

“What is it? Don’t tell me you can’t take it” he growled, his lips fanning your earlobe as he geave your hip a squeeze, probably hard enough to leave some purple bruises in the shape of his fingerprints.

Your vision was blurry, as tears of pleasure brimmed up in your eyes, your make-up ruined at this point. His thrusts were punishing, the sound of his thighs smacking against your ass was so lewd you almost felt ashamed of yourself. Yet, you could not deny you had been craving him since the day your father introduced you to the workaholic Nanami Kento. The thought of him fucking you to oblivion had almost become obsessive at some point.

“Ngh— It’s too much, Kento” you whimpered, only for him to tangle his fingers through your hair and giving your strands a rough pull.

Mouth agape, cheek leaving the cold surface he had squashed your face against not too long before, you watched the man behind you stare daggers at you through your reflections in the mirror. You were a mess. Black lines of mascara staining your cheeks and your hair unusually disheveled were enough to make your stomach churn.

If your father found out about this you were screwed. Quite literally.

“You are taking it like the good little slut you are. Listen to this. — he rasped out, dragging his length a little slower down your dripping cavern to emphasize the squelching sound of your mixed juices — You are soaked, sucking me in so good. Be a good little girl and let me finish, hm? That’s what I deserve after enduring a painful bulge for six hours every fucking day” he stated, before pulling out of you until only his tip was buried between your folds.

You tried to open your mouth to speak, but when he snapped his hips forward, earning a scandalous high-pitched moan from you, nothing came out if not pleas.

“Gosh! Kento, o my God… It feels so good” you whined out, squeezing your eyes shut as you let him thrust into you once again, resuming that torturous pace that had knocked the air out of your lungs.

The blond man grunted, his cock twitching into you as he approached his incoming climax. His lips found the crook of your neck, nibbling and sucking on the skin as he even praised you “So beautiful, so obedient. You’re a good girl, after all” he chimed, before he stilled into you and filled you up.

Your inner walls tightened around him, your orgasm meeting his one as he held you close to him. It was not just hate sex. He wanted you. You were his precious doll. He wondered how was it even possible that his boss had given life to such a pretty, lovely girl like you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, before your dad comes back from the lunch break” he whispered, pecking your cheek.

Toji Fushiguro.

He had overheard you complaining with his son, Megumi, countless times before you ultimately decided to break up. You two had your fair amount of problems, naturally, but there was one that had made Toji grin from ear to ear. Being into a relatioship with his son for four years had made you pretty comfortable around his shamelessly handosme father too.

Since you often slept over, Toji had suggested you to leave some of your belongings over. Back then it had sounded like a good idea. However, now that Megumi and you had, not so suprisingly, parted roads, you needed to get your things back and forget about that failed love story once and for all. You did not want to cross paths with Megumi and texting his father to ask when you could drop by to collect your stuff, without stumbling into your ex, was your only option.

When he told you Megumi was out for dinner with some friends, you did not hesitate to show up at the door with an empty box between your hands and an apologetic expression plastered over your face.

That gorgeous face of yours, your soft eyes and your sudden bashful attitude were such a delectable sight for Toji. He was shirtless, like most of the time, causing your cheeks to heat up and your eyes to rake down his abs not so subtly. Was it not immoral and pitiful to thirst after your ex’s father? Most definitely, but you were not in the mood to self-deprecate.

Not when, five minutes later, you ended up sobbing on a picture of you and Megumi eating cotton candy together six months before. You had loved him so unconditionally. You had spent the best years of your life with him, feeling glad every single day for having met him. But everything ended, right? Good things were not an exception to that rule.

Hearing your cries, Toji walked up to you, spotting your frail frame sitting on Megumi’s bed and crying your eyes out. What a perfect occasion for him to sneak his arm around your waist and drawing soothing circles on your back. Toji was not an overly affectionate man, not even with his son.

But he was there for you.

You did not even realize how it happened. All you knew was that, after drying up your tears with his lips, Toji was hovering over you. Your shorts had been tossed across the room, as his large hand had slithered down your stomach and past the hem of your panties.

His fingers, plunged deep into your core, stretched you out so deliciously, stimulating all the right spots to make you moan out in pleasure. You hated yourself for having made such a comparison, but your mind kept on screaming Megumi had never made you whimper like that, not even when he was sheathed deep into you.

“Fuck it, you’re so tight, baby. That stupid son of mine could not even fuck you good, right? — Toji cooed, his tongue invading your mouth to swallow your moans with a fiery kiss — Not even when he was balls deep into you? Tell me you want my cock, tell me you want me to stretch you out and I will” he allured you to give in, watching how your thighs quivered and your hips bucked up.

How could Megumi be that dumb to let you go?

“Please, Toji, please…” you meekly choked out, as he sighed and withdrew his fingers out of your soppy cunt.

You whined almost in contempt, but then you watched as he leisurely hooked his thumbs underneath the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, dragging them down his muscular thighs, and your jaw went slack. His cock slapped up against his V line, veiny, girthy, making your mouth salivating.

“Let me make you feel like a woman. Spread your legs, pretty girl. Daddy’s coming for you” Toji instructed you, making you shivers and wonder what Megumi would have thought of you, if he caught you impaled on his father’s cock.

Your eyes darted on Megumi’s picture on his nightstand and shamed washed over you. No, no, you had to focus on Toji, not on Megumi.

“Oi, eyes on me. Don’t think about that boyfriend wonnabe” Toji scolded you, grasping your jaw roughly as he ran his the head of his cock down your slit to collect your juices.

You swallowed forcefully down, nodding your head as he grasped your ankles and settled them on the top of his shoulders. The touch of an experienced man could not be nearly be compared to that of a twenty-one years old man. Toji knew how to please a woman. The stretch was almost painful, but as he fucked you like that, folded in half, you saw the stars.

You squeezed his dick perfectly, your warmth engulfing him like a glove, as he groaned out in pleasure with every thrust.

“Look at you… So cute and going cock-drunk so easily. No, it’s not going to be the last time we do that, alright? I need to breed that sweet pussy of yours” he huskily said, grasping your lower lip between his teeth and tugging at it gently, asserting once again his dominance over you. Your orgasm, a powerful one after so long, came as a blessing, leaving your body numb.

Too far gone to articulate a speech, you nodded your head, while his hand wrapped around your neck and he finished into you after a few more sloppy thrusts.

You had no idea of the satisfaction he felt in watching his cum leaking out of you and staining his son’s bedsheets. Maybe, just maybe, he had thought about leaving it there for him to understand what his ex girlfriend and his father had been up to while he chewed on some insipid noodles.

Hiromi Higuruma.

He had always been there for you. Your father’s best friend, Hiromi Higuruma, was the man he trusted blindly around you, his daughter, his pride and joy. Everyone in your family appreciated him. Growing up, you had almost lost count of how many times he had joined family dinners and road trips. He was always there for you. Nor you, neither him, though, would have ever thought that in the future he would have bent you over his desk and fucked you to oblivion, scattering the papers carelessly to the floor.

Maybe it was because of his visceral passion, when he talked to you about his profession as a lawyer, that you had chosen to enroll to the local Law School. Everyone, even Hiromi himself, were ecstatic about your decision.

But ambition had pushed you far from home, making you explore other countries as an exhange student. You missed your family, your home, but you soon realized you missed him too. Reading through your textbooks, crying over hard exams, studying to exhaustion, you only thought about him. You wondered if he was proud of you, or if he missed you as much as you missed him.

Sometimes you texted him, he replied almost immediately, congratulating you for your brilliant career. You had become so beautiful. When your father showed him pictures of you, your body blossomed into that of a woman, he found himself cursing his name for the dirty remarks popping out in his mind.

The day you knocked on his office’s door, Hiromi lost the last shred of dignity left in him. You were astonishing, finally an adult young woman exuding a cunning aurea and charm. That tight black skirt and matching high heels you were wearing made his mind spin.

“My father told me you could teach me a thing or two. I’m struggling with a case” you started, your mild voice sounding like a wicked melody he would have listened to forver. He was rational. He knew he should have sent you away before you ended up ruining your relationship, but he could not bring himself to do it.

Human cravings demanded to be satisfied.

“Your father chose the right man for this task. By the way, you look stunning, if it was obvious” he remarked, clearing his throat and closing the door behind you.

The way your red-painted lips parted, your back straightened, while he led you down towards his desk gave away how you felt. He knew people’s reactions, he had seen enough victims and criminals, liars and murderers struggling with feelings in his life to say you were trying to camufflate how you felt or why you were there in the first place.

The moment you began skimming through your documents, all dolled up and finally a colleague, Hiromi fought his dark impulses. You would have looked so pretty bent over his desk, your ass squeezed in his calloused hands, as you moaned out for him.

Two hours into arguing over the best strategy to save your client from jail, his hand suddenly latched around your throat, pulling you close to his body. The sudden action made you gasp for air and blush, but as your hand landed flatly over his chest, trailing down his pectoral, arousal made you press your thighs together. You were so close, the thin fabric of his shirt barely concealing the outline of his chiseled body.

His hand was still wrapped around your throat, his hot breath fanning your lips so hazardously. No, this encounter was not going to end like one of your typical catch-ups. No, this time you would have not said a cheerful, sweet and innocent ‘Bye-bye, Hiromi”.

This time you would have screamed his name at the top of your lungs so erotically that he would have filled you up until his cum dribbled down your inner thighs.

“Your father was right. I’m going to teach you a thing or two today” he murmured, capturing your lips with his in a fiery, passionate kiss. His grip on your neck did not loosen for a second, when his tongue pressed unceremoniously on your lips, parting them and delving into your mouth to involve you into a deeper and fervent kiss.

You whimpered, hands clutching his shirt into your hands as he finally gripped your hips, hand reaching up to unzip your skirt in a hurry. There was no time to waste. You had to be his, now and every single time you crossed roads. When his hands cupped your rear, he groaned, kneading it with passion, as he spun you around to bend you over the desk.

“Don’t worry. When I meet your father, I won’t tell him how I almost fucked a baby into you tonight” he sarcastically commented, unbuckling his belt smoothly as you eagerly slipped your thong down your legs for him. His words went straight to your core, riling you up even more as you smacked the papers and books out of your way to make room for yourself on the polished wooden surface of his desk.

“How many women did you fuck over here?” you asked curiously, glancing at him from above your shoulder.

Hiromi grinned and kissed your neck gingerly, while the tip of his cock teased your bundle of nerves and the area around your opening, not pushing in yet. You were the biggest mistake of his life, but also the most beautiful one. You were a goddess, a flower he had watched blossom, a passion he had nurtured in your last year far from home, from him.

“I’m the one who asks questions here. That’s a cross-examination, princess” he reprimanded you, before delivering a harsh spank that made your body jolt forward. The edge of the desk pressing against your lower abdomen made you suppress a soft wince of pain.

The moment he finally entered you, his cock stretching you out gradually and with care, you arched your back and allowed your insides to embrace him tightly, almost as if you were scared he was going to pull out.

“Fuck… Your pussy should be illegal” he groaned, gritting his teeth as he bottomed out. With your ass pressed up against his pelvis, Hiromi lavished praises on you and the blissful feeling you were gifting him with.

And at the end of his feral, dominant thrusts, he made sure to send you back home with a gift too. Warm, thick, his.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! I’m finally exploring the JJK’s field better. I hope you enjoyed this scenario. Honestly, writing this down was a little hard considering how many times I got hot and bothered. Older men have always been my type. Also, the legal shit in there had to be added because, since I study Law, I wanted to make justice to my baby Hiromi. Anyway, likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

Until next,

x o x o.

TAGS: @doumadono @axesfordays @brittscafe @flakeygod @gyomeisfavoritespermcell @kr0wu @bleach-your-panties @buttercupmuffins @rebwwca

#nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami x y/n #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x y/n #higuruma hiromi #hiromi x reader #higuruma x reader #higuruma smut #hiromi higuruma x reader #hiromi jjk #hiromi smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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msmiseryxoxo · 4 months ago

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Behind Closed Doors

homelander x assistant! reader

🎧 Behind Closed Doors- Lana Del Rey

Disclaimer: This is finally done after two months, i first started this when the season came out. I don't know anything about the corporate world. I made up things as I went along :3 im sorry :( Also my first time writing fanfic and first time creative writing in a while, so I am a bit rusty be nice please :3 I wrote this as a challenge to myself , so i hope its not too bad. Constructive criticism welcome :)

around 3-4k words i lost count

this is so secretary ( 2002) coded

Tags: dom!Homelander Fem! Girly! Reader. praise kink, body worship, p in v, fingering, cmnf, homelander is soft for reader. creampie, breeding kink, daddy nickname used. homelander and reader are horny weirdos. I'm bad at tagging hopefully i'll be better :(

Set between seasons 3-4 but i didn't watch gen v oops

You transcribe the meetings for Vought, and you feel like you don’t get the recognition that you deserve. That is until Homelander calls for a private meeting.

You were quiet and meek, like a little mouse. He viewed you exactly like that. A rodent to be exterminated. Squashed. He’ll have a word with whoever was in charge of hiring you. Even more of a word if it was Ashley. In your eyes, he could never hide the utter disdain on his face whenever he got a waft of your sweet, vanilla rose scent as you . He thought you represented everything wrong with humans. Your head was always hung low, you always stared at your shoes as you brought Ashley the notes for this week’s meeting. How dare you not look in his eyes? How can someone as stupid as you ever be trusted with confidential information about the company?

He absolutely hated everything about you. Your prissy nature, the way you only drank matcha lattes with soy milk. He turned his nose at that poor excuse of a milk option. He smelled that bullshit from a mile away. He hated the gloss on your lips. He hated the sparkle in your eyes, like you still had a lot of life to look forward to. He hated that hopeful mentality you held, following the philosophy that life was going to get better. He simultaneously hated and loved the way you cowered in his presence, the way your hands get sweaty and clutch at your skirt. He loved and hated the fact that you couldn’t hold eye contact with him. On top of all that, Homelander hated the way you made his dick twitch.

Even as you stumble around with a slight hunchback, he couldn’t keep thoughts of peeling off your tights and bending you over the table where meetings were held. How breathless and cute your pathetic moans would be. How he would make you speak up and ask for what you truly want. He wondered what your lip gloss would taste like. How soft your plush ass would feel as he caresses it. Even considering your horrible posture, something as small as your scent is enough to turn him on.

When homelander would retire to his apartment, he would drink a pint of milk and jerk off. That was his nightly routine for the last couple of years. He would think about Madelyn Stillwell, Stormfront, and if he was feeling especially normal, he would think about Queen Maeve. After a week of you working at Vought, his jerk off material had changed. He began thinking about you. A lot. You had dominated his brain, and this irritated the hell out of Homelander. He had never given this much thought to another person before. Mundane and ordinary things had popped into his brain. What did you eat for breakfast? What side of the bed do you sleep on? As much as he tried thoughts of you out of his head, they always came back with a vengeance. Just your entire existence bugged Homelander, but he got used to seeing you in the conference room, even looked forward to the weekly meetings if it meant he got to see you. He’d notice that his presence would have an embarrassing effect on you. Of course, he would have a certain effect on just about everyone that he encountered, but he relished in the fact that you would get so flustered when in the same vicinity of each other. He would then think of ways to get you worked out, he wanted to tease you just enough to coax you. He’d knew the type of girl you were, you thrived under words of praise. Homelander also knew that you’d be obedient enough to never say anything. He’d make you fear him, more than you already do. He wanted to make the desire to please stronger.

After the first month of your newfound employment at Vought, you wondered why anyone would put up with Homelander and the Seven’s antics. You pride yourself on your obedience and dedication. Why could nobody acknowledge the sea of tears shed over copious hours of overtime, and the perfection you put into shooting out emails everyday, keeping people on track. You even schedule the time the emails are to be put out. You know deep down you will never say anything, or even hint at the maltreatment and neglect that you recieve. You want to remain hopeful that this is just a rough patch, and as you get more acclimated to the company you won’t feel this way, they won’t treat you this way.

You wake up at 5:30 to face the day. 30 minute shower, a five step skin routine, and light makeup routine. You were told to always look your best when first hired. Vought has an image to maintain, and their employees should reflect that ( which only really applies to female employees).

While in the shower, you contemplate your life. You’re proud of yourself and what you have accomplished so far, but sticking to the Vought job is insane. It’s insane because you have a crush on your boss. Arguably the most famous and powerful man in America, or even the entire world. You know he's not a good person, but you wouldn’t mind being at his beck and call. God, it was pathetic how you imagine him grunting in your ear for you to take it. You try to move past these thoughts for the betterment of your life.

You are the first to arrive to the meeting room. You set up your space, placing your laptop, a notebook with strawberry pattern on it, and your matcha latte with soymilk.

As the supes settle in, you get ready to write. This week’s meeting was about searching for another member of the seven, or to speak truthfully, find a new black noir. You are clueless to how The Seven found itself without a Black Noir, but you know it is in your best interest to never ask questions. Of course, like the queen of England, Homelander is the last to arrive. Homelander strides in greeting everyone.

“ Mmm can’t wait for the bullshit we talk about today,” He rolls his eyes. You notice his tone even more irritated today. Homelander walks over to the front of the table and sits. Everyone waits for him to speak, for him to start the meeting. As you write the date on the top of your paper, you hear him clear his throat.

As you look up, he says your name. How does he even know your name? He couldn’t give less of a shit at anyone at this table, especially you.

“Can I speak to you at the end of the meeting? Alone of course. We wouldn’t want any of these morons listening in”

“ Oh. Yeah, of course!” You stutter a bit. You give him a small smile. He gives you his signature fake smile back. You know that look all too well. You recognize that that look is basically the middle finger. That highly calculated smile hides the disgust he feels for everyone around him at any given time. All the while, you are caught off guard by his words. Being alone in a room with any man would make you anxious, but being the only woman in the room with Homelander makes you nauseous. To say you are absolutely mortified would be an understatement.

Everyone in the room gives you a side eye. Ashley looks like she might pull out a gun and shoot you. She knows she’ll never hear the end of it. After all, she did hire you.

The rest of the meeting goes as smoothly as it could. Some dumb remarks were made by The Deep, but it could have been worse. You didn’t pay much attention during this meeting, as you were in your head about what this private session with Homelander would entail. Homelander senses your heartrate going up. He can practically hear the blood rushing through your veins. His hand quietly goes to grab and rub his bulge. He thinks of you on your knees, him grabbing your hair as you rub your face against his crotch with your hands on his thighs, looking up at him with adoration in your eyes. He brings his hands up and bangs the table.

“ Ok, I think we’re all done here,’’ He gives instructions to the Deep and Ashley to scout for the new Black Noir while A-Train shoots his movie. You write the details of the meeting in your notebook.

Everyone gets out of their chair and leaves, Ashley gives you a death stare. You feel faint, and your legs try to gather courage to walk toward Homelander.

“ Shut the door behind you, will you buddy” Deep closes the door, and you two are left alone at last.

Homelander slowly strides toward you with his hands behind his back. Like a deer in headlights , you were paraylzed with fear, you could not move. He softly grabs your chin. He sees the fear in your eyes.

“ Hey, you’re not in trouble. I can see the hairs on your arm standing up. It’s fine. You’re not in trouble.” He reassures you, eliminating the worst case scenario your brain. You breath a breathe of relief. You look at Homelander’s boots, still afraid to look him in the eye.

He gives a slight chuckle. “ I’m not going to laser you, ya know. Um, actually I asked you to stay because I realized something.” He places his hands on your shoulders, you finally look up. He is towering over you. You can see the absence of his pores on his face. He truly is perfect, which makes his presence even more intoxicating. Your head feels dizzy from both the fear and his course fingertips on your shoulders.

“ You’ve been here for a good while. I know that you think that you’ve gone unnoticed. But trust that that could not be further from the case.” He sighed. “ To be quite honest with you sweetheart, you’ve been too much of a distraction around here. Your short little skirts are killing me.” Homelander laughs. He imagined his hands hiking up your skirt all of the time. He toys with your hair as you cannot believe that this is happening. His hands travel to your neck as you can smell the mintiness of his breath. He places soft sweet kisses on the tip of your ear as you let out a whimper.

“ I know you wanted me like this. Ya think I don’t know why you try so hard? You want to get my attention. Think of this as a reward, yeah?” Your knees buck. The pit of desire in your stomach is getting bigger, and you're aching for more of his touch.

“ I need you to look at me” He says in his stern voice. “ And I need you to respond when I’m talking to you, kay? Sit on the table for me.”

You nod your head. A light tap of his hand kisses your left cheek.

“ Use your words, doll.” Homelander whispers and looks at you tentatively.

“oh okay” you stutter and stammer.

He impatiently unbuttons your shirt, practically tearing it open, and quickly undoing the claps of your pretty pink bra ( which you wore everyday, holding onto hope he would one day see it) clumsily breaking a clasp in the process.

“ I’ll get you a new one, its fine” Your mouth opens in a slight gasp.

His tender, soft, touch full of need finds the softness of your breasts, as he bends down to delicately pinch your nipples, hard, from the building's chill and the unfamiliar feel of his leather gloves. He bites his lips, resisting the urge to come right then and there. He lightly sets you on your back, legs dangling off the table. He looms over your view. The blonde man begins to suckle on your breast, massaging the other. His lips leave soft marks all over your tits as he rotates his hands and his lips.

“ Oh god, you feel so fucking good, sweetheart, your tits feel amazing” You let out a mewl as your pussy clenches. Filthy sounds of Homelander lapping at your tits and soft cries escaping your mouth fill the room. He lightly nibbles your nipple. In a fleeting moment of bravery, you give Homelander a request.

"Mmm want you inside"

“Not yet honey. Needa prep you first, know you can’t handle it right now. ” He unzips your skirt and throws it across the room. Your tights were thigh high, so he didn’t have to take them off like he would have liked. He looks almost animalistic as he crouches down to level with your cunt. He rubs his gloved hands up and down your bare thighs, as he inhaled the scent of your clothed pussy. You run your hands through his soft, blonde hair, thinking about how how heaven feels.

He murmurs into your pussy, “ you’re fucking soaked and i barely touched you”

His nose brushes with your clit. Catching wind of your squirming and quiet mumbles, Homelander purposely moves his nose in a circle while he maintains eye contact with you. A strong hold of his hands is on your hips, trying to contain the buildup of your pleasure. His rhythmic movement works your way toward an orgasm, and as you get higher and higher, almost reaching your peak, he moves away, toward your mouth, embracing your tongue, biting your lip softly, as your lips sloppily crashed into each other. He sat you back up as his arms moved up and down your back. Anger quickly left your body as quickly it came, you couldn’t be mad at his denial when you inhaled his fresh linen and sandalwood scent.

He breaks away from your lips .“I want you to cum on my cock, so im just gonna make you nice and wet for now, sound good?” You look into his of course that sounded good, but something felt off.

“ mmkay homelander” you mumble, feeling a bit odd and disconnected suddenly. You don’t want to call him that, his nose was in your pussy, his tongue all over your chest, it felt wrong to call him homelander. Sensing this, he does the unthinkable.

“ call me john” he mutters under his breath, almost inaudible. you grin at him.

“ mmkay john!” God. your squeal and positive attitude made his cock even harder, which he didn’t think possible. You relax a bit more, as this was a sign of him opening up.

He slowly wiggles you out of your panties, as you giggle. Leaving you fully naked, Homelander basks in the sight of you, ready and pliant for him.

“ Yeah, what’s so funny” Homelander smiles at you.

“ hmm. Dunno. You’re just so…” you trail off at the end of your sentence.

As you’re responding to his question, Homelander slips a finger inside you. You let out a cry, slightly rolling your head back.

“ Im so what sweetheart, finish your sentence” He grabs you by your neck, demanding a deep sloppy kiss, whilst adding another finger in your pussy, plunging deep in and out of your slick folds. He curls two fingers up,

‘So..mmph..good, feels good, john”

“ Mmm yeah I know honey, I know ” He coos, mockingly in between kisses. He worked his fingers until your breaths became ragged, squirming and quivering under his touch.

“ You’re so fucking wet, baby” He grunts while you moan as John scissors his fingers in and out of your slick pussy. He moves his fingers, moving them into circles on your clit.

“Im gonna cum, please!” You plea for him to keep going, faster.

“ Ah ah ah, no i don’t think so. going do it on my dick remember?” He pulls his fingers out of your wet warmth, drags his tongue up and down his fingers.

He moans as he sucks on his own fingers, you look up at john with utter adoration.

“you taste so good mmph” Your tongues intertwine, lapping filthy at one another. He bits your earlobes while his hands lazily fidget with your nipples.

He then brings the bottom of his suit to his knees, cock swinging out. It’s egregiously thick. His length swollen and aching, leaking out precum from his pretty tip.

“ I’m going put my cock in now, ok sweetheart?” He seems to take it easy on you, as he doesn’t mention your mouth salivating at the sight of his dick.

“need it bad, been waiting for it”

“ Oh I know, i’ve seen the way you look at me” he laughs sinisterly.

He uses one of his arms to spread your thighs wider apart as his other hands supports you up, grasping the whole of your back. You smile up at him

He positions himself nearer to you, his cock at your entrance.

“ it’s gonna be a big stretch ok, need you to breath, if you need support, hold onto my shoulder.” he senses your lack of experience, or at least your naivety. you had never experienced anything like this, and you never would again, he would make sure of it.

you nod your head and look up. You’re already cock drunk, you trust him with your life. He reassures you with a kiss to your forehead.

Homelander bullies his length through your warm walls, gently and slowly. you let out a cry, both of pleasure and pain. you feel so good full, He groans into your mouth, as you moan into his.

“ ok honey, it’s going in”

“mmmphh John, so big..”

“does it hurt?” he stops in his tracks.

“a little, but not a lot” you say almost in a whisper.

“ok, ill keep going really slow, sweetheart”

He thrusts real slow, as he caresses your face. you lose feeling in your legs as he pounds softly into you. He finds him rhythm quickly as he maintains his pace. You hold onto his back as he moves his hands all over you.

“ God, your tight pussy clenching my cock feels so good sweet girl”

You smile and giggle.

“ My dick needs to be in your sweet cunt forever, sweet cunt, sweet girl” He growls into your ear.

“mm Keep going daddy!” you squeal, not knowing the damage you have done but uttering those words. Homelander feels like could come right then and there. A primal switch flipped in his brain.

Tears begin to swell in your eyes. “ I’m so so so sorry i didn’t mean to say that” Homelander sees your eyebrows furrow and your eyes widen.

His thrusts begin to pick up the pace, the perfect rhythm becomes sloppy, as your juices spill out of your thigh. His fat cock ever so slightly touches your cervix as you let out a soft sob.

“you don’t know what you do to me don’t you? Jesus, this pussy was molded for my cock” He grabs you by your knees and throws your legs over his shoulders. His dick twitches inside of you, signaling he’s about to cum, and you’re about to follow him.

“Say it again. Call me what you just called me” He annunciatesin a low voice.

“ Fuck, daddy feels good, want your cum” You feel free of all embarrassment and shame in that moment as you bask in euphoria.

“ That’s a good girl. Good girls get to cum. Good girls get filled up with daddy’s cum” Homelander never knew that this nickname did it for him. Hell, he was more of a mommy kind of guy, but he would do anything for you. Any word that came out of your mouth would make him hard, because it was you. But submitting yourself to him in this way, it did more than getting his dick up. He was disgusted by this feeling. What was it? Why did it feel so weird?

“ Oh god I’m gonna cum, gonna cum in you, give you babies oh god” He sloppily kisses your face, as fat blobs of sticky cum drip out of your cunt. He keeps his cock in your pussy, as he holds you with your face pressed to his chest.

“i need to come daddy” you stutter and shake under him.

He allows you to come and you swear you see stars. John smears his cum across your pussy, then he bends down to kiss in between your lips highs.

He helps you into your skirt and what’s left of the rest of your clothes. You smile at him, and he smiles back. A genuine smile.

that got a little more emotional then i thought it was? idk should i make more of homelander x reader in mind? if you want to give feedback feel free to :) i’m doing this to be a better writer !

divider creds: @cafekitsune @bunnysrph @anitalenia

#homelander x reader #the boys #homelander #homelander x you #homelander prompt #homelander smut #dilfism #x reader #the boys season 4

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bunni0nbanhg · 13 days ago

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|Ink| 02

Tattoo artist!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

Genre(s): Strangers to lovers, One night stand, Unexpected relationship

Smut Warnings: Intoxication, unprotected sex, Soft!Dom Chan, Switch!Reader, Degrading, Creampies, Breeding kink

Synopsis: You needed to get a tattoo covered up, one you got for your ex. You’re in a new city and go to the closest tattoo parlor by your apartment. The main tattoo artist and owner just so happens to live across the hall from you. Drunken actions turn into a spiral of emotions and your first healthy relationship.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Part 3- ࿐ྂ

The tattoo was healed relatively quick, as quick as most tattoos.

Chan kept his promise to see you too, a few days after the tattoo you hear a knock at your door.

It’s not too late, around half an hour his shop closes. You know this because it’s written on the card Felix handed you before you left.

“Who knew I could charm someone enough to make them want to see me so soon.”

The older laughed in response, shaking his head as he held up a plastic bag with snacks inside. “What can I say, drunk girls who look like they’re about to throw up are my type.”

It was your turn to laugh, tongue pressed to the inside of your cheek out of mock annoyance.

You stepped aside to let him walk in, watching as he kicked off his shoes next to yours already there.

He was wearing another one of his black tank tops, maybe he knew to wear it, saw when it caught your eyes during the session.

“K, show me the wrist.” He turned around as soon as his shoes were off, effectively pulling you away from your trance or staring mindlessly at his back.

“Oh? Really going to use that excuse for real?” Chan grinned in response, tilting his head to the side while taking a careful step forward.

“What else am I here for?”

He turned back around before you could answer, taking your flushed face as a good enough response and deciding to change topics.

“I brought beer too, where’s your fridge?” He held up the bag again to enunciate his question and you nodded before showing him the way to your kitchen.

It wasn’t like he needed you to show him, your apartments had the same layout, but it was the polite thing to do. You didn't care for beer so much, it was bitter and sometimes tastes too much like wheat, especially if cheap. It did the job though, and gets less bad through out the night longer you drink it.

After he put the beverage into your fridge and took out the snacks from the bag he turned back to you again. He bought some salty and sweet stuff, what caught your eye was a chocolate bar, your favorite brand of chocolate.

"I know what I'm calling dibs on." You grinned, snatching the sweet treat from the counter as he tried to grab it before you. You raised an eyebrow as his arm drops with a dramatic pout. "That's my favorite."

He mockingly whined and went to grab it again, but you hid it behind your back. "And I called dibs!" Your voice wavered as he continued trying to get the candy. Even going as far as to try and reach behind you, stopping you from stepping away by wrapping his other arm around your lower back.

It made you nervously laugh, trying to shift your shoulders and wiggle free from his surprisingly firm grip. When seeing no way out, you made a fake hissing sound.

His arms pulled back in a flash and concern immediately filled his eyes. It made you feel guilty for a moment as his eyes darted to your wrist. "Did I squeeze it?" He asked while obviously gesturing to your healing tattoo.

You grinned in response, making him immediately groan in annoyance at being fooled, but also sighing in relief. "You're sly." He shook his head while pointing an accusatory finger.

He seemed to forget about the chocolate, or gave up and let you eat it in victory.

You two settled on a movie, not hungry enough for anything past snacks so dinner was out the way but you needed something to do to squash the lingering awkwardness when you're not too familiar with a person.

"Favorite movie genre." He started, watching you as you picked up your remote to scroll through the movie options. You hummed in though as if you didn't already know. "Depends on my mood, you?"

He copied your hum, leaning back until the back of his head lit the back of the couch. "Action Sci-fi. I love Marvel." You smiled in response, you enjoyed a superhero movie too.

"Favorite movie theater snack." You threw back at him, eyes darting to actually pay attention to what movie you wanted to watch.

"The classic, a big bucket of popcorn with extra butter."

Questions flew back and forth between you two, steering off topic of movies to things like dog breeds to hobbies. Conversation seemed to flow easier than you'd expect, and any awkwardness seemed to fade quickly.

The movie long forgotten and your first cans of beer already cracked open. "Why'd you move out here, just because?" He asked, taking a long swing after.

You looked down at the small opening in your can to drink out of, sloshing the liquid side to side. "Same reason I got the cover up."

His eyebrows raised a little with a thoughtful hum. "So it was a recent break up? I thought it was a while ago." You shook your head with a tightlipped smile, tracing the rim around the can with your index finger.

"I needed a fresh start, it was one of those relationships that should have ended months before it did. I have a habit of talking myself through tough things think it'd get better, but running as soon as I see something good happening for myself. Unintentional self-sabotage you could say."

Chan knew what that was like, to some extent. He'd convinced himself he wasn't worthy of certain things, ultimately ruining a lot of things in his life from overthinking.

"Those relationships suck. I've had my fair share of bad ones before, especially a few long ones."

You'd be lying if you said his words didn't pique your interest, curious to know more. "What was your longest one?"

His eyes flickered down to the bear can just as yours had done, biting down on the two lip rings pierced into his skin. "3 years.." His tone seems reluctant, but you're more surprised by the time he gave you.

"That's a... serious amount of time." You nodded with a little bit of shock obvious in your voice. "Can I ask why it ended or is that too personal?"

He laughed almost bitterly, quickly looking back up to you while resting his free arm over the top of the couch. "We were at different stages of our lives, and it wasn't something we properly discussed."

It was vague, but told a lot at the same time. Some relationships were just that, confusing but natural. Easy but stressful. It made your chest tighten with annoyance at how much you could relate.

"In short I wanted to settle down together and she still wanted to keep her options open."

You sucked in a sudden breath, shocked again. "That'll end a relationship." You nodded with a curt nod. He chuckled again, less bitter and more in amusement at your obvious words.

"Was your last one your longest?" He asked while taking another sip. You took one too before sighing deeply. "Yeah, a year, that's why I got the tattoo. Thought I'd be in it for the long run."

"Thought it was bad, so why stick around?" It didn't mean to sound judgmental, but Chan felt like it did and quickly added. "Was it just, easier?"

You hummed with a nod. "Part of it, yeah. It was mostly because I felt like I was losing out, running out of time. Wasn't the shittiest of past partners I've had, you could say I settled for less than I deserved and didn't realize until I was too far in."

Silence hung in the air as you took another large swig, looking up to see his expression, maybe try and guess what he was thinking despite not knowing much about him as a person and body language.

His eyes were directed at your black screen T.V, still nibbling on his bottom lip in thought. His eyes are darker than usual, but not out of annoyance. The soften when they lock with yours, seemingly snapping out of whatever trance he put himself in.

"I'm guessing you're going to take a break from dating?" He cocked an eyebrow before immediately breaking eye contact with you again.

"I always say that but end up talking to someone again, I think I'm more in a... drifting with the current phase. Whatever I bump into and wants to stick around I'll see if it's worth it."

"But, if it's too good you'll peel them off you?" He guessed, making you sigh at how accurately he can read you. "It's not like I think I don't deserve something good, but you could say I psyche myself out. Get so attached it's scary, I don't like being needy to something that can easily be taken away."

Your fingers trailed up and down the side of your almost empty can, sipping the last of it back before setting it down on your coffee table and getting up from your couch. "Another?" You asked and he nodded.

You handed him the chilled can when sitting back down, simultaneously cracking it open. Yours foamed over a bit and you quickly had to slurp it up before dripping down your hand and arm.

"Have you moved on since your ex?" You asked to resume your conversation, and you got a sigh in return. "Yeah, mentally. Haven't really gone on a date or anything. The night we met was me trying to try my luck but nobody really stuck out to me."

That night was still foggy in your mind, you hope he hadn't seen you do any embarrassing faces or said anything uncomfortable. "What made you stop to help me?" You knew it was probably going to be some bullshit answer about how he just wanted to help, because that's how considerate he seems to annoyingly be.

He's a lot of things actually, stuff you've been able to gather through the back and forth questioning and this conversation alone. It's annoying how he's effortlessly able to keep the flow going, it feel natural to keep on talking. He seems thoughtful in a way that is entirely selfless, and mature enough to not need any parenting.

That's more than most of your exes can account for.

"You were the only one that caught my eye at that point into the night, well, in the night in general. Had no idea I'd get the honor of meeting you again so soon. Much less becoming your neighbor."

There's an obvious teasing tone to his voice and it makes you roll your eyes. He's able to make you want to throw a pillow at him and kiss him at the same time, a dangerous feeling for someone who's already becoming something more than just a neighbor.

"Wow, so flattered, so should I count this as both of our first dates since our shitty breakups?"

He laughs in response, jokingly raising his can to yours to softly clank them together. "Technically, but if I were to take you on a first date I would have hoped it'd be nicer than this."

"My apartment is very nice." You teased with a fake annoyed expression, Chan easily able to see past it with another laugh. "It is, but that's probably because you stuffed all you mess in your room probably."

Your foot gave his thigh an annoyed nudge, shaking your head before taking a long swig of your beer. "I'm not some kid that shoves their toys underneath their bed."

"Sureee." He drags out, jokingly acting like he wasn't convinced. Your eyes narrowed before grinning to match his. "I'd invite you to go check but I'm afraid you might get other ideas, and I'd hate to bump into my new tattoo."

He let out a dramatic scoff, face flushed at your implications, though if asked he'd blame it on the alcohol. "I have self control, might not seem like it with how eagerly I was to show up tonight but that's only because I had to check said tattoo."

You rolled your eyes again, him back at using your tattoo as the excuse to see you. "Guess I'll just have to invite you back when it's healed so we can stop using it was a get out of jail free card."

His eyes darted to you, surprised at how casually you practically invited him to "check your room out" with him. "Because, Y'know, gotta test to see if I put my bedframe together right."

He choked on the sip of beer he just took, topic seemingly escalating far more quicker than he anticipated. Sure, his goal was to flirt here and there, test the waters to see if you were open to something. After all, he was the one to cover your tattoo that was for an ex.

You grinned at being able to get a reaction out of him, also taking another sip. That is until he propped his head with his free hand and leaned a bit closer after recovering from initial shock at your smug look.

"A little bump or two to it won't harm it's healing process much, just gotta make sure your arm stay's above your head."

It was your turn to freeze, having thought you had the upper hand of teasing for a second. His head tilted to the side with a hint of mockery to the action, almost challenging you to say something back.

And you did, challenge him I mean, just not with words.

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You'd have to apologize to your neighbors next to you, your headboard positioned on a wall connected to their apartment. The good thing however was that now you knew your bed frame was stable.

The buzzed feeling wasn't just in your head, and it wasn't there just because of the few cans of beer you two both downed. It was the adrenaline of doing something you knew probably shouldn't be done, I mean, come on, fucking your tattoo artist after just two days of knowing each other was crazy work.

What was worse than fucking your tattoo artist, someone you could avoid if shit hits the fan, is fucking your neighbor. Who knows how often you'd inevitably run into each other to take the same elevator or throw your trash in the dumpster on trash day at the same time.

The awkwardness of running into someone who've you've seen naked and know they've seen you naked is something hard to avoid no matter how hard you try to without talking about it.

You hope it wouldn't end up like that between you two; not when his tongue felt so good pressed against your own. It made you moan when feeling something cool hit the roof of your mouth when he lazily flicked the pink muscle up.

"How did I not see your tongue piercing until now?" You panted against his lips already beginning to look redder with how aggressively you two pulled on each other's bottom lips. You could feel the smirk growing on his lips as he pressed them back against yours.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure you become well acquainted with it."

And that he did, right after sliding off your soaked underwear down your legs and throwing it somewhere on your floor. Your nightshirt and bra didn't last long after, Chan getting hungry to taste more of your skin.

You shivered as you felt the ball of his tongue piercing drag across your collarbone, it retracting as his lips sucked on your skin right under that part of your skeleton.

He groaned as your legs shifted, brushing against the hard on in his basketball shorts. "So desperate for me already." You practically purred with amusement, earning yourself a glare from the man above you. "Princess has a cocky mouth, doesn't she?"

"Only speaking facts baby. Maybe pretend to be a little less eager if you don't want me to call you out on it."

You knew you were a hypocrite, heat pooling at your core that ached for some sort of relief. Chan knew it to, knew it even before reaching a hand down to lazily drag through your folds, earning a surprised gasp from the sudden but appreciated friction.

He brought his two fingers up to suck on and grin back at you. "I'm the eager one?"

You huffed, going to reach a hand down to flick at his forehead when you were reminded of his free hand pinning them above your head. "Oh, forgot about that, did you Princess? I'm only making sure you don't bump your wrist on accident."

His hand held onto yours by lacing together with your fingers, making sure not to touch the plastic around your healing tattoo. Your tongue clicked in subtle but half-hearted annoyance, distracted as soon as his lips started pressing kisses down your exposed chest.

Your eyes glanced down to watch with bated breath, his hot breathing fanning over your skin as he continued going lower and lower. He paused at your lower stomach, making to presses multiple kisses around there while switching occasionally to both your hips and hip bones.

He trailed back up before giving you exactly what you wanted, saving your heat as an indulgence for afterwards.

"Gonna be a good girl and keep your hands up for a second?" He presses his lips to your ear, enunciating his question by squeezing your hands. An embarrassingly desperate whine fell past your lips, effected by the careful movement of his lips earlier down your torso.

"Such a good girl." You mumbled with a nod of your head, Chan satisfied with your promise as he momentarily let go. Your hands laid limp, making no attempt to move from their spot on the upper part of your mattress.

His hands left your body to quickly strip off his tank top, making drool pool in your mouth like wetness did in your cunt. What really made you moan was seeing the entirety of his tattoo when he twisted to throw his tank top in the same pile of your clothes.

He looked back at you with a grin, biting his lower lip to suppress a laugh. No matter how many people complimented or flirted with him based on his body alone never made it any less flustering when someone who's opinion he truly cared about also complimented it.

Next was his shorts, the bulge already noticeable despite the loose material. What you didn’t expect us to see an Ampallang piercing right as his hard length was freed from his boxers.

“How did your ex not lock you down?” You groaned, hips shifting to adjust as you felt your wetness almost trickle down your inner thigh. Chan this time really laughed, throwing his head back with a hand to his chest.

He bent down soon after getting himself to stop laughing, a pleased smile still stretched across his lips as he leaned closer to your downstairs ones. “You gonna make the same mistake?” He hummed before pressing a light kiss on your upper inner thigh.

The action was more affectionate than anything, a total contrast to how he later becomes aggressive with his tongue pressed to your clit.

The barbell of his piercing provided an extra stimulation you didn’t know you needed until now, especially with his mouth was doing an amazing job by itself.

You had to stifle most of your moans with the back of your hand, still being mindful of your neighbors who could not even be home at the moment for all you know.

“What’d I say about your hands?” Chan asked, lips departing from your puffy clit that pulsed with want and need from the sudden lack of touch. You whined in slight annoyance and desperation but moved your hand to rest next to your other wrist.

“Don’t want to be deprived of those pretty little moans.” He grunted before diving back in to seemingly swallow you up whole.

The sound of your panting, little ah’s and whines every time he pressed practically good against your clit sent heat straight down to his dick that already ached painfully so. He’d hold out though, wanting to taste your release on his tongue before anything else.

The knot in your lower stomach tightened as you felt yourself nearing your end, breath hitching. Chan immediately began speeding up, hands gripping your thighs to stop them as the threatened to close.

“Close princess?” He grinned, pressing sloppy kiss through your folds as you moans in response. “Is that all it takes to make you cum? That desperate for a man you just met?”

Your eyes widened as you felt yourself clench around nothing, his tongue immediately sliding in with a quiet almost nonexistent groan falling from his lips. You tasted better than he could ever imagine.

“Fuck, more of that.” You mumbled with a shaky breath, hands lacing together as your fingers twitched to grab onto something. He chuckled against you, eyes trained on the feast he was devouring.

He knew what you meant, and he’d make sure to give you all of the demeaning words and insults he can when fucking it into you, for now he just needs to coax this first orgasm out of you and onto his tongue.

He made sure to flick his tongue up, pressing the medal if his piercings on the roof of you gummy walls. “Shit!” You gasped, stomach tightening.

Chan groaned again, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips as he pressed himself closer, your legs resting over his shoulders. You would have worried about if he was able to breath or not if it wasn’t for him grunting and groaning with every movement he made with his tongue.

And then it hit you, a flash flood wave as the knot in your stomach snapped and heat spread throughout your cunt. “Chan!” You gasped, hips bucking up before you could control them.

He moaned against your folds with pride, not tearing away until you were shaking and trembling and he was able to drink up all of you.

“Such a good girl, took it so well.” He instantly praised, propping himself up to lean his face into your neck.

He pressed sloppy kisses to your skin before wiping your release from his mouth to kiss you. “Think you can handle being in top?”

You nodded pathetically into the kiss, moaning at the taste of yourself on his tongue.

He’d have to make sure to do that again, maybe even wake you up by burying his tongue deep inside you, only if it was something you gave him permission to.

“Hands don’t leave my chest.” He grunted before flipping you two over, easily maneuvering you to straddle his lap.

You shuddered as you felt yourself pressed against his cock, eyes staring back down at the surprise piercing through his tip.

He hummed while watching you gaze hungrily, hands back to rest in your hips before gathering your hands to pull you forward slightly and rest them on his chest.

“Right here.” He enunciated with a tap to your knuckle, making you nod again. “Can’t even talk? Too needy for me to fill you up? Such a desperate girl.” He clicked his tongue as you moaned in response.

Sure you’ve been domed before, possibly the only good reason you stayed with a few exes in your past, but the mix between praise and undeniable affection with degrading words did something to stir need in your chest and pussy.

“You should be prepped enough from my tongue, or are you about to ask me for your fingers too?”

You but your bottom lip in thought, already knowing your answer as you shook your head.

His fingers tapped against your thighs before squeezing the flesh there. “Words slut.”

You shuddered before letting out a moan. “I’m ready.”

He hummed in seemingly approval before lifting you up by the bottom of the ass, making you look back as he moved his tip to align with you.

Gathering some of your wetness by smearing precum into your folds, he finally lowered you to sink down onto him.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to just flip you back over and ram into you, but he was able to stay still to let yourself adjust.

You weren’t doing much better yourself, feeling like you could feel him and his piercing in your guts. It was a feeling of being full nonetheless and it made you even more needy.

“What, can’t handle me” he moved one of his hands to grab onto your chin and make sure your gaze locked with his. “Need to pull out?”

You whined instantly in protest, grinding down harder to prove your point. “Don’t you dare.” You gasped as he let out a chuckle.

“Might get the wrong idea if I don’t see you drooling for me to move.” He teased right before you raised your hips up to slam back down.

His own moan cut off any words he wanted to add, making you grin. “Baby can’t believe that a pussy can feel this good.” You mockingly cooed, Chan grunting in response to your tease.

“I had you falling apart on my tongue.”

“Well let’s hope your dick can achieve the same goal.”

Chan decided he liked it better when you were on your back. You gasped as he flipped you toe over again, able to not have to disconnect himself.

“What’s that? Princess gone quiet?”

You shivered as he slowly dragged himself out maybe only half a centimeter, making a point for you to feel the silver barbell rub against your walls.

You moaned as he pressed back in, pulling out a bit more with every thrust until he was setting a pace. “Not so quiet now.” He groaned, eyes trained as he watched himself disappear into you over and over again.

Your hands still laid over your head, one of his hands laced back together with them again.

It was intoxicating, making your mind foggy with bliss. How long had it been since you got a good fuck? Along with the insanity inducing head he gave you; you weren't sure how this man could possibly still be single.

"Spacing out?" His breath hit's the shell of your ear, earning a whine in response. His chest pressed down into yours with his hands between your bodies to grip harshly at your hips and keep them in place. Your head would be smashed into the headboard if he didn't hold you down against his thrusts.

"Can't believe I already got my princess dumb on my cock. What was it you said? Let's see if your dick can do the same? Tell me, is it?"

Your breath hitched as he arms looped underneath your lower back, making your back arch off the bed and he continued ramming into you. Your hands, now free, carded into his hair.

He groaned at the faint burn of his hair getting pulled, same cocky grin on his lips. It made you want to make them red all over again, bite and swap spit like you had done desperately as soon as he pressed you into your mattress.

"Please, please-! Don't stop, don't slow down!" You moaned, knowing your face was flushed impossibly red and eyes glossed over in a haze of bliss and need. "That's not a yes or no." He hummed, moving one of his hands to hike up your thigh to wrap over his hip.

You yelped in response, overwhelmed with the change of position as he drilled at more of an upwards angle. "Yes! yes- just-" Your chest heaved, a shaky moan leaving your lips at the intense familiar feeling of your abdomen tightening.

Chan moaned back, eyes squeezing shut once he felt you clench around him. He knew what it meant, having felt it when his tongue was buried deep inside.

He felt his own impending release start to build up, sighing out. "Tell me, in or out?"

Your mouth dropped open, not quite registering his words fully when he was fucking into you like a god. "Princess, need to know." He urged, dropping the hand on your thigh to tap your cheek.

Your eyes snapped up to look at him as soon as you felt his finger touch the side of your face, still panting with every moan he was able to coax out of you. "In."

Chan could feel his eyes almost roll back, that was the response he was secretly hoping for. Just the idea of getting to see his seed spill out of you when he pulled out. Maybe he'd be able to push it back in with his fingers and fuck more of it into you, if you'd allow him.

There's a lot of stuff he'd gladly do to you if you gave him the ok, and just the image of your cunt, dripping and creaming from your mix releases made him almost cum on the spot.

That mixed with how tightly you were clenching around him, mind and body both wanting to milk him for every single drop he could give you. You hadn't realized how hot it made you feel to know someone was about to cum in you before Chan, maybe it had more to do with the person than the action.

"Really? Eager to carry my kids?"

Like a switch in your mind, your eyes screw shut and something akin to the loudest moan in existence left you, along with the knot in your stomach undoing for the second time that night.

Chan wasn't far after you, breath hitching as you gushed around his length with no warning.

That wasn't a problem for him, never. He gladly fucked into you needily, knowing he looked like a desperate puppy as his hips snapped against yours quickly.

You could have cum again from just the feeling of his seed shooting into you. Hot ropes of cum stuck to your walls, kissing your cervix along with his tip. You best believe Chan had to capture your lips in a kiss if he didn't want to scream like you did.

The bedframe was able to handle more than you could imagine, maybe Ikea furniture wasn't so bad.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Taglist: @sarastayy @estella-novella @danceonmyheyday @iweirdthingsblog

#stray kids #skz #bang chan skz #skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #tattoo artist #tattoos #bangchan smut #bang chan x reader

277 notes · View notes

melohann · 6 months ago

Text

nsfw content. minors dni.

warnings. hints at soft dom!sungho x sub!female reader, sungho is a little rough during sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talking, unprotected sex, mentions of breeding.

wc. 4.3k

summary. after months of dating and sneaking around with your boyfriend, you finally get a night alone with him and he doesn’t disappoint.

sungho sighed as he laid down beside you, his bed sheets draping over his bare thighs as he settled down. he turned his head to look at you, a gentle smile growing on his lips at the sight of you already looking at him.

"hi pretty" you smiled wider at him, giggling as his he rolled over and squashed you under him, pressing his lips against your cheek repeatedly as you hit his arm. the sound of your laughed filled his ears and his heart with joy, when he pulled his head up he looked down at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. you were everything sungho could have wished for and he was always sure to show you that, there was always a sense of intimacy in the air between the two of you. although, tonight there was a different feeing in the atmosphere, something that felt a little thicker.

neither you or sungho lived alone, there was always at least someone around the two of you and it made your nights together a little more awkward and a little less intimate. you didn't hate your nights with sungho, the secret touches under the blankets and the slow thrusts that were careful in order to not disturb the mattress beneath you. the two of you were cautious about the people around you, especially since sungho roomed with jaehyun. and as much as you adored his friend, you couldn't help but feel frustrated with his presence sometimes.

there were times in the past where you had wished that jaehyun would disappear for a few hours, leaving you and sungho to your own desires until he got back. but he never did, somehow he was always there, even if he wasn't in the room then he'd be in the lounge with riwoo and whoever else decided to come and join them. jaehyun claimed that he was being generous giving you two alone time, yet both you and sungho had some less than sweet words for him about that.

yet, you pushed all that out of your mind for the time being. you and sungho had finally been blessed with time alone and you couldn't have been more thankful. you went into the night with no plans, simply spending the time giggling with on another, watching whatever you could find and eating take out before you found yourselves drifting into the bedroom and being tucked into sungho's bed. if there were any watching eyes, they'd believe you two were preparing to sleep, but both of your minds were running too wild for that to happen.

the air shifted the moment your eyes met his as he lifted his head from yours, the smile on your face fading slowly as your eyes stayed connected. sungho was the one to break the silence, finally speaking into existence the one thing that has been plaguing both of your minds.

“we’re alone” his voice was quiet as he dragged a finger around your jaw, stabilising him above you as his forearm pressed into the bed beside you “only took 5 months” you breathed out a laugh but kept your eyes on his, suddenly being rushed with a fear of missing anything he did or said “i’ve been waiting for this for so long” his voice dropped an octave, you swore you could see his mind whirling through the glint in his eyes.

“you have?” you tried to sound as composed as possible, but it wasn’t easy with the way his finger began to travel down your neck and between the valley of your breasts, stopping at the hem of your bra.

“you’re my every thought” he pushed his hand under the cup of your bra, his fingers curling around your breasts. he leaned down, face inches away from your as he squeezed your breast in his hand, your back instinctively arching causing your chest to brush against his “the good and the bad ones”

sungho kissed you after that, letting your mind spin with thoughts about what his bad ones could be. you knew he never meant it in a negative way, but that just made you question yourself even more to what he could be thinking about you. yet, you couldn’t help but feel a fire begin to burn in your stomach at the thought of sungho having less than innocent thoughts about you late at night. you wondered just how far he’d go, what side of you he hadn’t been able to show you. if there was one thing that really excited you about getting him alone, it was the fact you knew things would be different to every other time you two had sex.

his lips felt hot against yours, the kiss filled with unspoken words. it almost told you everything oh had wanted to know, almost. there were things you needed to see for yourself, things you craved to experience. but, your thoughts broke as he pulled away from you. sungho knelt up, now settled between your legs. the bed sheets that were formerly on him having fallen behind him, ending up as a wrinkled mess at the end of his usually neatly made bed.

you watched him carefully as his fingers gripped the bottom of his t-shirt and he pulled it over his head, it felt as if he was going in slow motion just to tease you, knowing how much you liked his body and knowing you can finally admire him freely. his shirt was discarded off of the bed and your fingers reached forward, pressing against his collar bone before slowly dragging down his chest, your nails gently dug into his skin a they bumped over the ridges of his abs before stopped at the waistline of his briefs.

sungho felt himself shiver at your touch, you fingers felt like a feather against his skin yet burned as if they were hot coals. you took your time admiring him, hand pressing flat against his toned stomach with an upwards tug at the ends of your lips. sungho could tell how much you were enjoying being able to touch him so freely, but he wanted his turn too. his laugh caught your attention, your eyes flicking up to his illuminated face, you smiled sheepishly before retracting your hand back to your own body. sungho simply laughed again.

“you’re so cute” he sighed before leaning back down to kiss you. sungho hadn’t pointed out the lack of clothing you had worn to bed, only adorning a bra and panties when you’d usually ask for one of his shirts. he didn’t mind it though, it made things so much easier as he began to touch you.

he teased your lips, pressing his own against the corner of yours before leaving an open mouthed kiss against your jaw, he lowered himself a little further before attaching himself to the side of your neck. your hands pushed into his hair as you sighed at the feeling, his own fingers finding their way to your bare waist in the meantime.

you sighed as he inched himself down your body, his fingers pushed under you in order to fight with the clasp of your bra. a battle he always found himself losing and it wasn’t much of a difference tonight. the whole moment paused as you sat yourself up, reaching behind to undo the clasp before letting him drag the straps down your arms and dropping it to the floor.

sungho had seemed to let go of the light hearted feeling in the air the moment you laid back down, the glint in his eyes returned as he wrapped his lips around your nipple and flicked his tongue over it. he sucked on the hardened bud as his other hand crept down your body, fingers pressing deep against your slick panties. you gasped, your fingers returning to his hair in a tight grasp as he rubbed over your panties, the small stipulation didn’t do much to dull the ache that you were beginning to grow but it was something.

sungho let his teeth graze lightly against your nipple as his fingers press into your slit, the pads of them almost directly on your clit, your panties being the only thing keeping you from feeling him against you. you whimpered as sparks shot up your body. the countless nights you had spent together under the covers meant sungho knew how to find your clit with ease, just a simply look at your face and twist of his fingers had them pressed against the spot that had your body quivering next to him. so it didn’t shock you when his fingers found it immediately, the words he spoke after did though.

“be loud for me baby, let me hear you” it felt almost unnatural to let out a vocal whimper instead of keeping your sounds to yourself, you almost instinctively darted your eyes across the room to jaehyun’s bed until you realised he wasn’t there. sungho lifted his head from your nipple, his fingers pushing your panties aside to touch your clit directly. he leant down to kiss you again, groaning against your lips as you pulled at the strands of his hair “it’s just us baby”

you nodded, arching yourself up as his fingers began to rub quicker circles against your clit, being able to move freely due to how wet you were becoming. you felt him smile when you momentarily broke the kiss with a moan, a moans that was louder than any he had heard from you before “good girl” he breathed out, only laughing when he heard you moan again. as sungho pulled back, he kept his eyes on your face, his lips damp from the contact with you, fingers not letting up on your clit.

“if you don’t stop” you whined, fingers tightening in his hair “i’m gonna cum” you knew that you were nearing your orgasm a lot quicker than usual, but you couldn’t help it. something about the situation felt exhilarating, finally being alone with him after months of hoping by and praying for it had finally happened.

“what if i want you to cum?” you whined again, your hips squirming on their own accord due to the stimulation overwhelming you. but then, he stopped. he pulled his fingers away from you and lifted them to his mouth, he cleaned his fingers on his own “do you know how bad i’ve wanted to fuck you with my tongue these last few months” his words made you whimper, thighs attempting to close around his body so you could feel something.

“please” the beg left you in the form of a whimper, your hips lifting again “please sungho” he placed his hands on your thighs, smiling at you as he pushed them further apart before moving to lay on his stomach between your legs. he took a few seconds to do anything before he pressed his nose against your underwear, pushing it further against you until it was pushing onto your clit. he breathed in deeply, letting out a moan just at the smell of you.

he barely pulled away, replacing his nose with an open mouthed kiss against your panties. you shuddered at the feeling, not being used to such intense stimulation. you weren’t sure how well you were going to deal with feeling his tongue directly against your cunt. when he pulled away you sighed, your eyes focused on him as he hooked his fingers under the hem of your underwear and dragged them down your legs before dropping them off of the side of the bed. his hands returned to your thighs, he pressed them open a little wider so he could so you.

sungho could feel his mouth water as he admired your pussy, he could see how wet you were. his curiosity beat him, he brought his hands forward, fingers spreading apart your lips in order to admire you properly. that was when he lost control and moved forward, his lips closing around your clit and his hand returning to your thigh.

he gently rolled your clit between his lips before letting go, his eyes flicking up to your face to see yours closed with your lips parted and heavy breaths coming out. sungho smiled before he licked your clit, his tongue soaking up the taste of you before he moaned again.

“you’re so sweet” he sighed, wrapping his lips around your clit around, this time sucking on the bud and groaning against it when you pulled at his hair. this caused you to moan loudly, the end of your moan falling into a broken whimper as your eyes stayed shut and your back arched. you weren’t going to last long, you knew you weren’t going to but you feared you wouldn’t be able to tell sungho.

sungho didn’t care though, he wanted to make you cum, needed to feel you twitching against his tongue as he licked you through your orgasm. he was determined, and it showed with the way he touched you. pressing his face closer to you, tongue flicking quicker over your clit before dragging down your slit and pushing against your seeping hole. he pushed the muscle into your accepting hole, his nose bumping against your clit as he fucked tou with his tongue.

sungho moaned, almost as loud as you were as you pulled on his hair. the taste of you causing blood to rush straight to his cock. he was quick to lick back up to your clit and take it back into his mouth. he could feel your slick on his nose and around his mouth, your wetness mixed with his spit causing it to drip down his chin. he was making a mess and he loved it.

he was also about to make you cum. your fingers tightened in his hair as you pulled harder at the strands, his name fell from your lips in the sweet whimpers sungho had ever heard, he was sure that he could feel your clit twitching against his tongue as he drew you closer in.

“not gonna last” fell from you in a high pitched whine, your thighs shaking in his grip as felt yourself tip over the edge. sungho never stopped, rolling your clit before his lips before sucking on it harshly, he fingers pressing deeply into your thighs as he pushed you into your orgasm. you cried over his name, eyes squeezing completely shut and your body squirming as your orgasm ran through you.

sungho groaned against you as you came into his mouth, savouring every drop of your cum as you shook around him and let him clean up the mess he had made. his eyes shot up to you as he slowly pulled back, his lips glistening with your slick as he pushed his tongue out to clean them. he was almost breathing as heavily as you were.

“i’ve been thinking about doing that for at least 7 months now”

“but we’ve only been together for 5?” you questioned him, head falling to the side as you attempted to calm yourself down. sungho simply laughed and shrugged his shoulders causing you to lean forward and hit his arm “perv” sungho just leaned towards you, pressing his lips against yours in a short kiss. he smiled at you as he pulled away, his eyes still filled with the same glint that they held before, but this time they were somehow a shade darker.

just like that, the atmosphere in the room changed again, there was a lingering feeling of sheer need and desire surrounding you both. sungho grew painfully aware of the briefs that were still adorning his body and how badly he wanted to rid himself of them, wanting nothing more than to feel you bare against him.

he ended up shifting, standing up from the bed to rid himself of his briefs. your eyes stayed on him, the dimly lit room letting you see the snail trail that led you from his toned abs to his hardened cock that stood tall, leaking in anticipation to feel you.

"do you want me to su"

"no" you were taken back by his abruptness, about to respond before he spoke again, his hand cupping your cheek in his hand as he moved back on top of you "i'd love for you to baby, but all i want to do right now is fuck you" you gulped and nodded, letting out a deep breath at how forward he was being.

by now the his sheets were hanging off of the bed. you two had all the space and time in the world, this being the first time either of you had been able to see the other so bare in such a vulnerable way without the worry of someone else seeing. the excitement it brought you only increased the desire you felt inside of you, anticipating how he'd be with you now the two of you were finally alone together.

sungho's hands pushed under your thighs, he pressed his fingers into your skin before pulling you down the bed, your head barely touching the pillow anymore. he pushed your thighs up, you felt your knees press against your chest as he settled comfortably on his knees.

your hands went to his, fingers wrapping around his as they pressed into the back of your thighs. you suck in a deep breath as one of his hands dropped down to his cock, wrapping around the base of it before dragging his tip along your slit and pressing against your enterence.

this was the first time the two of you had been in any position other than a spooning one and the rare one when you had rode him slowly under the covers, you couldn't help but feel incredibly aroused, even more so as you felt his strength come out as he held your thigh against your body. you were wondering what other things would come out.

your thoughts abandoned you as his the tip of his cock pushed into you slowly, you couldn't hold back the moan you felt build in your throat because of it, sungho's groaning in the process. you watched him as his eyes focused on the way your cunt began to slowly swallow his cock, the thickness of him doing nothing but stretching you out in the most delicious way, the position he had you in only made it feel more pleasurable.

"are you okay?" his eyes flicked up to your face, cock now sunk half way inside of you as he checked on how you were doing. you felt flustered, your skin hot was your walls fluttered and squeezed around him.

"you're so big" you whined, a pout forming on your lips without realising. sungho groaned at your reaction, finding you too cute to not want to completely ravage on the spot, but he knew that would come a little later.

he withdrew the half of his cock that he had inside of you before pushing back in, feeling your nails dig into the back of his hands as he placed his free one back on your thigh. this time he sank deeper, his balls pressing against your ass. you could only whimper as he stilled inside of you, sungho himself only breathing deeply as he shut his eyes to steady himself.

"how do you want me? we've never been this alone before" you hummed at his question, letting out a shaky breath before responding. ""how do you want me? we've never been this alone before" you hummed at his question, letting out a shaky breath before responding.

"just fuck me please, sungho" your voice broke as you voiced your wish to him, sungho had to release a long, deep breath before nodding to you. he was glad the two of you were on the same page because as soon as he found our you'd be alone together for once, all he could think about was fucking you full of his cum as messily and as loud as he wanted. his biggest desires were finally coming true.

after a few more deep breathes he pulled his hips back before pushing them forward, repeating the motion a few times before his hips snapped a little harder causing you to whine. sungho could tell you were enjoying the feeling and he was right, the tension that was building in your clit with each sharp thrust had your body squirming under him, that was until his grip on your thighs tightened and he knelt up. the slight angle he was at had him sinking deeper into you, tip of his cock pressing harshly against your cushiony walls.

the stimulation caused your hands to drop to the bed, arms spread out as you fisted the sheets and squeezed your eyes shut, back arching as he fucked himself into you. he continued like that, his eyes focused on the way he disappeared inside of you and came back out drenched in your slick, you took his cock so eagerly, your hole swallowing him with each deep thrust. sungho found himself tipping his head back and groaning alongside of your sweet moans.

his vocal groan had your eyes open, he caught your attention and you were glad he did. his abs were tensing with each thrust, arms flexing due to the grip he had on your thighs and his body beginning to form a thin layer of sweat due to the intensity of his thrusts. sungho was truly a beautiful sight for your eyes and you felt beyond lucky to be the only one who got to see him like this, it frustrated you that it took 5 months for you to be able to due to the lack of privacy the two of you had experienced.

sungho moved one last time, his hands slipped down your legs until they were holding your thighs just beneath the bend of your knee, his body leant down against yours and his lips touched your cheek. he kept you trapped under him, his body holding you down as he thrusted back into you. the new angle caused you to moan loudly, his cock pressing impossibly deeper into you as it found a previously undiscovered spot.

sungho knew he had you where he wanted to, starting to fall apart under him as he fucked you into seeing stars. he had only dreamed of having you in such a position before, a mating press where he could dig as deep inside of you as he wanted and draw out the filthiest of moans. the other part of him could only imagine what it would be like to breed you in such a position, to fuck you until you're stuffed full to the brim of his cum and shaking at the feeling. if you weren't crying for him not to stop then he wasn't doing the job he was supposed, which is exactly what you began to do.

your hands gripped onto his back, the feeling of his muscles contracting underneath them with each thrust only made you moan more. your nails pressed into his skin, barely dragging along it causing a dull pain to shoot through him. sungho just groaned, burying his head into your neck as his hips never relented. he had set a quick, sharp pace, unlike anything he had done to you before and you loved every second of it, but you knew that it would come with you cumming undone sooner than you had hoped.

sungho could pick up on when you were close, he could tell but the way your thighs twitched in his grip and how your whines grew in octaves. his name slipped from you in high pitched, broken moans with each deep thrust. all he wanted to do was feel you squeeze around his cock and cum undone around him, he was determined and he knew he had you where he wanted you when you cried out about being close.

"let go, love" his voice was comforting, a contrast to the way he was fucking into you. there was a pattern of sloppiness beginning to form behind his thrusts, a sloppiness that only intensified as you squeezed tighter around him. he lifted his head out of your neck to look down at you, wanting to watch you fall apart as he fucked you through your second orgasm of the night.

he watched as your eyes shut and your lips parted, your vocal chords seemingly cutting off as your orgasm washed over you. the way your walls convulsed around him had his head spinning, you looked somehow angelic whilst letting such a filthy thing wash over you. there was an echoing sound of the mattress creaking under you, mixed with his balls slapping against your ass and your wetness squelching. neither of you had ever been in such a scenario with the other and you both knew you were going to become addicted to it.

as your orgasm continued, sungho's thrusts grew irratic, he knew better than to cum inside of you but he didn't want to leave you empty as you released around him. it took everything in him to hold himself back from filling you up with his cum but he succeeded, only pulling out of you the moment your eyes reopened and you whimpered about how sensitive you were.

he made quick work of kneeling up between your legs and wrapping his hand around his cock, you reached up to replace his hand. he moaned as your soft skin dragged along his cock and jerked him off in replace of his own, just the touch of you had him shooting his cum onto your stomach with a deep groan following. he let out a moan of your name followed by a rare cure, you were sure you felt your clit twitch at the sound of him, and the sight of him. his hair stuck to his forehead as he attempted to regain consciousness of the situation, voice almost hoarse as he spoke to you.

"i'm booking us a hotel room at least once a week from now on".

#bnd smut #boynextdoor smut #sungho smut #boynextdoor sungho smut #bnd sungho smut #𐙚 melody posts #𐙚 hard hours #𐙚 sungho hours

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sapphiremusings · 5 months ago

Text

THE GIFT OF VENGEANCE | aemond targaryen

summary: Aemond replayed this image on a loop, squirming in his seat every time he got to the part where her eyes popped out of her skull.

Two eyes for his one, and the eight years he went without his revenge.

8.5k

cw: female!lucerys velaryon, au-modern setting, explicit sexual content, dubcon, graphic depictions of violence, sadist!aemond, obsessive!aemond, dark!aemond, choking, p in v, oral sex (fem!receiving), blood kink, biting, mentions of childhood trauma, breeding kink, uncle/niece, kinda DD:DE? not that dead though… u might be able to eat…

He hears her first, that soft tittering which haunted his childhood, piercing straight into the marred socket of his left eye, down the monstrous scar she had left him with.

She sits behind him, planked between her brothers, the only daughter of his half-sister, and therefore the most beloved. Maybe Jacaerys had whispered a joke, his lips sticky against the shell of her ear, laughter bubbling up her throat at whatever inane quip he made. A part of him, the one that dominated his childhood, leaving him cowering along the sand and crying fat tears into his mothers skirts, thinks that maybe they’re whispering about him– their stoic, one-eyed uncle, whom they once taunted and teased as children. Her amusement echoes around the corners of his mind, running along every ridge of his spine and settling deep within him, into an endless pool of festering hatred.

It had been years since Aemond had seen his half-sister and her litter of bastards, but now that he has, he’s ready to never see them again. The rift between their families is slowly starting to mend, threads of green and black pulling together to stitch up the hole that was left after Laena’s funeral, and the taking of his eye. His mother, once reverent in her hatred for Rhaenyra, now holds onto her arm with a newfound longing, fingers rubbing circles along the long scar she had given her that same night, when she had demanded an eye for an eye. It was one of his fondest memories– Lucerys crying out in terror as Alicent rushed towards her holding a dagger, her darling face twisted in fear, hiding behind her mothers skirts. Even when his empty socket was throbbing with an intense pain that not even milk of the poppy could cure, he still relished in the sight.

His father had been slowly dying for years before he finally succumbed to his illness, something Aemond had anticipated every time he walked past his room, the sour stench of rot and sickness permeating through the shut doors, along with the constant beeping of medical machinery. The funeral had been just as droll as his last days, with Aegon slumped beside him, sunglasses slipping down the bridge of his nose, stinking of the bottle he had downed beforehand. Helaena was busy slouched over, peering down at the iridescent beetle that crawled around her fingers, muttering to herself, ignorant to the snorts Aegon would give and the shushing their mother hissed. And Daeron, the youngest of his siblings, was perched between mother and their grandfather, in which he had spent most of his childhood with, a good boy who listened steadfastly to the sermon. Behind him, the Velaryon siblings sat, from eldest to youngest, hands clasped together as they mourned in a way Aemond hadn’t.

Her presence seared into him, burning down to his bones, etching itself into the very marrow of him. The gods were feeling particularly cruel this day, and he listened to the sound of his niece’s sniffling, soft sobs leaving her lips in the place of the laughter he was once used to. He had wanted nothing more than to turn around, to peer upon her darling face, flushed a splotchy pink as tears streamed down her cheeks, the tip of her nose red and her brown eyes wide and watery, eyelashes clumped with tears. He imagined himself grabbing ahold of the chub of her cheeks, squashed beneath his fingers as he plunges his thumbs into her eye sockets, the white mush mixing with her crimson blood, a beautiful concoction made just for him. The thought dizzied him, and while speeches were given and prayers were sung, Aemond replayed this image on a loop, squirming in his seat every time he got to the part where her eyes popped out of her skull. Two eyes for his one, and the eight years he went without his revenge.

He remembers how those eyes, big and glimmering with a certain mischief, would peer at him with the curiosity of a doe, as if trying to figure out what made him tick. A brush of her fingers against the back of his hand, the warmth of her breath against his jaw, her gangly limbs stumbling over his own. These small tortures she’d inflict on him, only to turn and laugh in the wake of his trauma, when their older brothers would taunt and tease him incessantly. She’d trail after them, giggling at their antics with a small hand held over her mouth, the apples of her cheeks flushed red in mirth. He had hated her for it. Her ignorance hurt more than any push or shove Aegon or Jacaerys could bestow upon him.

“D’you think mum will notice if I leave?” Aegon slurs in his ear, spittle fanning across his jaw as he leans heavily against his shoulder, already in a drunken stupor. “She seems rather occupied, right?”

Aemond has to force himself not to sneer, eye twitching in annoyance as Aegon sways on his unsteady feet. His older brother has long been the family’s drunken embarrassment, but to see him act this way in front of their half-sister and her clan irritates him more than it usually would. Aegon’s beady eyes are glazed over, partly focused on their mother, who stands at Rhaenyra’s side like a leech, mouth twisted into a pitiful smile as she hangs onto every word that leaves the silver-haired bitch’s lips.

Aemond hums. “She’d notice eventually.”

He expects Aegon to stumble off, his clipped tone hinting to an end of the conversation, but instead, he chuckles. “Our little niece has grown into quite the woman, wouldn’t you say?”

The brothers watch as she chats with Daemon, their uncle and her stepfather, his towering figure dwarfing her smaller one. As Targaryen’s, hailed from Old Valyria and of an ancient bloodline, rumored to be connected to fantastical dragons, incestuous relations were once common within their family. After the turn of the century, their house which was once full of riches and immense power, halted in this practice. That is, until Rhaenyra whored herself out to her father’s brother at a young age. Despite this scandal, his half-sister steadily remained their father’s favorite, even after her marriage to Daemon and the birth of two sons.

“Come, brother. There’s no need to play shy,” Aegon snickers in Aemond’s silence, the alcoholic stench of his breath lingering under his nose. “We are Targaryen’s after all… surely you’ve thought about giving it to her. I know I have. Especially after the… incident.”

“I have no taste for such depravity.”

His brother groans, hand slipping off his shoulder as he wobbles off, unsatisfied with Aemond’s answer. Before he can leave, Aemond reaches out to stop him, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “You’re embarrassing us, lēkia.”

Aegon merely shrugs him off, stumbling over his feet as he walks out of the room, barely making it through the archway without tripping. The sight makes him grumble, jawbone tense as he grinds his teeth, returning his attention to the window, where a mess of dark curls now sits, face hidden from view. He has only glimpsed her once, when leaving the funeral, her eyes watery and nose tinted a shade of pink, tear tracks staining her cheeks. She had smiled at him. The image has been playing on a loop inside his head, a never ending reel of her pretty face and that ringing laugh, ever since he saw it.

Lucerys Velaryon has always been beautiful, he thinks. The features he has always hated in her brother– that stubby nose, the freckles along their cheeks, their dark hair and dark eyes– sneering down at him as he pushed him to the ground, were always devastating in her. As children, he had imagined she was the Maiden reincarnated, the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on, even when she’d laugh in his misery, carrying out her small tortures with every lingering look and every brush of her skin against his. After she took his eye, her face began to haunt him for different reasons, and his dreams of her becoming his bride turned into nightmares where her laugh would echo around his head while her blade cut into his flesh once again, this time taking his other eye as well. His hatred grew into a cruel thing, festering deep inside him until it started to rot through his bones, and every thought turned violent.

Rhaenyra would send their father pictures of her and her bastards, and he’d hang them around the house, in every hallway and on every fireplace mantle. Every year, they’d have a new picture, and as if to taunt him, Lucerys’ was always hung on the wall across from his bedroom door. He has always suspected Aegon of this pettiness, for his brother would often catch him glaring at the portrait from his doorway, eye tracing the curls of her hair and the curve of her jaw. Her eyes seemed to follow him as he walked, up until he would slam his door shut, locking her away from view. His hatred, still burning bright, had mixed with a different feeling that left a tight coil in his stomach, one which twisted more and more each time he saw that damned portrait.

Her face is etched along the inside of his eyelid, forced to see her every time he closes his eye. He has memorized every freckle, every curve and dip, even the milky scar that sits near her hairline from an accident when they were children, when Aegon had bumped into her, causing her to fall and hit her forehead against a jagged rock. The sight of her blood along the stones had nauseated him at the time, and so did her tears, fat as they dripped down her cheeks and into her wailing mouth. Now, he thinks he would quite like to see her blood again, to hear her cries as he inflicts the same pain she had once inflicted on him. His pants grow tighter at the thought, but he can’t find it in himself to be ashamed.

The air in the room grows thick, and he watches as Jacaerys stands above her, hand resting on the crown of her head, fingers slowly caressing the strands. She looks up with a small smile, eyes glowing in the midday sun that shines through the window next to her. His hands curl into fists, knuckles turning white as she laughs again, the sound ringing in his ears like a persistent bell. He quickly makes his way out of the stuffy room, shoulders tense as he passes by his mother and half-sister, neither of whom have looked away from one another since their reunion. The hallway is empty, and so is the looming staircase, which he climbs in stride, farther away from the center room and her lingering laugh. Beneath his eyepatch, his empty socket begins to throb, a searing pain shooting through the wound until his vision nearly goes white, and he’s left stumbling into his room, collapsing on the bed.

His curtains are still closed, shielding him away from the blazing sun, leaving his room dark with only slivers of light shining along the floor. He lays among rumpled sheets, tugging off the leather patch fastened around his head, bringing a shaky palm up to cover the aching hole. He is used to this pain, which plagues him more often than not, but within the presence of the one who created it, it seems to swell over him like a tidal wave. He barely hears the knock on his door, and when he doesn’t answer, a few seconds go by, until someone barges in.

Even in the dark he can still make out her wide eyes and the sheath of curls around her shoulders, her steps timid as she comes to a stop at the edge of his bed, fingers curled together in a nervous habit. “Are you alright, uncle?”

Her soft voice rouses him, his palm pressing deeper into his empty socket, while he looks up at her hovering figure. Her eyes dart over his face, lingering on his hand which covers his wound, and he wonders if she is remembering how he had covered his eye that night she had taken it, how he screamed and cried atop the sand, blood seeping through the cracks of his fingers, a perfect match to the blood dripping from the dagger in her small hands. When she quickly averts her gaze to a corner of his room, he feels a smug satisfaction rumbling in his chest.

“I… I’m sorry to bother you,” she murmurs, voice faltering slightly in his silence. “I was asked to come check on you.”

He hums. “By who?”

She’s quiet, eyes flicking back at him as if she is surprised by the sound of his voice. He merely stares back, palm growing sweaty in its position. Like a deer caught in headlights, her mouth opens and closes, before she finally speaks.

“Our mothers wish for our families to make amends. Given the death of Viserys.”

Aemond sits up at this, dropping his hand to his lap, stare hardening as her eyes dart to the now exposed scar, to the gaping hole where his eye once laid. She swallows, but makes no attempt to back away or close her eyes. Instead, Lucerys draws closer, head leaning over to get a better look at her work in the dim room. His stomach churns, fingers inching towards the eyepatch that sits beside him, yet he stops himself from grabbing it. No, he wants her to see what she did to him.

“You want to make amends?” he pushes, voice raspy from his dry throat. He sits up farther, leaning closer to her hovering frame. She nods. “And how do you plan on doing that, riñītsos?”

She looks at him in trepidation, lips tugging downwards and her brows furrowing above her dark eyes. The black dress she wears is short, hem stopping in the middle of her thighs, the material tight around her waist, and his eye snags on the motion of one of the straps falling off her shoulder, resting above a small freckle. She doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe she just doesn’t care, her stare not wavering as she makes no move to fix it. There’s a look in her eyes he’s never seen before, something gleaming and intoxicating, drawing him into a pool of soft velvet. He wants to hold them, those delicate globes, in his hands, feel the warm slime of them like two marbles.

In a quick motion, spurred on by his vivid imagination, he grabs ahold of her jaw, tugging her face close to his. “Will you take out your eye, hm? Give me what’s been owed all these years?”

Lucerys surprises him. Instead of falling back in fear, she merely smiles. It’s sardonic in nature, and he watches in trepidation as her eyes flicker down to rest upon his lips. So quick, he barely registers it, yet the action shocks a bolt of lightning down his spine, and his grip on her jaw tightens in a mix of dubiety and fury. Her smile only seems to grow wider at this, as if she is aware of every thought crossing his mind, nestling their way into the mush of his brain.

“Is that what you want, uncle? My eye?”

It is, he thinks. And so much more. He wasn’t lying when he told Aegon he has no taste for depravity, always the dutiful son despite what has befell him. Aemond tries hard to wash away his vengeful urges, the stirring of his cock when he imagines his little niece writhing in pain, covered in bruises and bleeding cuts, her eyes wide and tearful as she squeals like a piglet, under the might of his fists and his knife. His thoughts have only grown darker, crueler than he cared to admit, with flashes of his suckling on her open wounds like his mothers tit when he was a babe, warm blood resting along his tongue instead of milk. Nothing would taste as sweet, he was sure of it.

With a tug, Lucerys topples over him, her body plush against his own, and he quickly flips them over, his knees up against her ribcage. Her face is flushed from exertion, her hands scrambling against his chest and shoulders, legs kicking out from under him, though her efforts are in vain as Aemond merely tightens his grip around her. Stubbornly, her lips pursed into a sour smile, she stops her struggling and stares up at him in defiance.

“Go ahead then,” she goads, raising her chin and bringing her hands up to rest against his back, fingernails digging through his shirt and into his skin. He hopes they leave marks. “I won’t scream. I won’t fight. I refuse to give you the satisfaction of my pain, uncle.”

A deep, twisted rage sits within him, rising in plumes of smoke like the molten lava from an exploding volcano, and as he glares down at his sweet niece, the image of their homeland flashes across his vision. Their ancestors once lived on the island of Valyria, a prosperous place that had been home to the largest mount, which erupted and destroyed the land, as well as all those who resided there. A few Targaryen’s were lucky to escape just a few years before, and he thinks about this luck now, bringing a hand up to wrap around the width of Lucerys’ neck. She keeps her word; she doesn’t fight back, doesn’t try to scream, even as his fingers tighten enough to bruise, cutting off her air circulation. Tears gather at the corners of her eyes, and Aemond finds himself groaning, arousal splashing over him like ice water.

He removes his hand. Lucerys gasps for air, nails no longer digging into his skin, hands now limp around his waist. Her gaze looks down, chest heaving as she slightly tilts her head, focusing on Aemond’s lap. With a flush, he realizes she’s staring at his erection, which is pushing against his trousers, its heaviness resting against her abdomen. Her eyes glimmer at the sight, pink lips tugging upwards into another smug smile, hands inching towards his thighs that are still wrapped around her. When her fingers press against his thighs, he jolts back.

She sits up with a small laugh. “I thought you wanted to put out my eye, Aem.”

The nickname, one he hasn’t heard since they were children, running along the beach together, toes nestling along the sand, salty waves lapping against their ankles. It makes his chest twinge, an ache forming under his ribs, and he quickly turns away, resting his hands on the wooden surface of his desk. “Get out.”

It’s quiet, with only the sound of their families downstairs, chatting and laughing, which does nothing to help the tension of the room. He hears her sigh, short legs twisting beneath her as she climbs off his bed, shoes hitting the floor softly. She lingers at the door, hand resting on the doorknob while her eyes burn holes into his back, willing him to say something, but he doesn’t. He merely waits in silence, solemn in the dark corner of his room, among his books and journals. It’s only when he hears the door open and shut, and the sound of her footsteps retreating down the hallway and onto the stairs, does he sit back on his bed, lowering himself down to press his nose against the spot where she once laid, the scent of her still fresh on his sheets.

She’s taunting him, eyes avoiding his own one-eyed stare, dark hair fanning over her face every time she turns to speak to her brother, as if she’s hiding from him. As if she hadn’t smiled as he sat atop her, hands around her neck, a threat on the tip of his tongue. Now, she sits across from him, at the far end of the long dining table, nothing but wood and various dishes separating them.

Perhaps he should’ve taken her eye when he had the chance, he thinks. In the moment, he had doubted she wouldn’t have screamed. He knows the pain of losing an eye all too well, searing and bone-deep. Despite her promises, Lucerys Velaryon would’ve cried out the minute his blade touched her skin, and their families would have rushed into the room and stopped him in his act of revenge. No, if he was to take her eye, he needed to do so in a secluded place, where no one could interrupt him.

Helaena, sitting beside him, mumbles something, her hand feather-light against his own. He looks over at her, and she merely lifts out her other palm, showing him the fuzzy caterpillar that slowly moves along her skin. He can’t help but smile, though his sister doesn’t notice as she keeps her lilac gaze on the small critter she holds, moving her hand from him to run a finger gently down its spine. Next to her, Aegon snorts in his cup, taking another swig before leaning back in his chair, a slimy grin on his face.

“Have you given any more thought to what I said earlier, little brother?”

His words are slurred, and Aemond decides to ignore him, lifting his own cup to his lips and taking a sip. In the middle, his mother sits beside Rhaenyra, their heads bent towards one another, lips pulled into wistful smiles, as if they are old friends, or perhaps lovers. Daemon had gone home, taking their three youngest with him, as well as his twin daughters, leaving his niece-wife and her two eldest in the hands of the woman they both once despised.

Aegon, never one for taking hints, continues. “If you don’t want her, I’ll be happy to show our dear niece a good time. I have hopes she’ll be… pure.”

Clenching his jaw, Aemond finally looks over at his drunken brother, giving him the attention he seemingly craves. Aegon smirks, head tipped forward as he leans over Helaena, who is still too busy with her caterpillar. From the corner of his eye, he can see their mother looking over at her eldest son cautiously, though when Rhaenyra whispers something in her ear, she looks away.

Aemond opens his mouth to respond, but is interrupted by the sound of Lucerys’ laughter, and the breaking of glass. Him and Aegon advert their gazes to the opposite end of the table, where Jacaerys stands with reddened cheeks, holding the broken stem of a wine glass. Lucerys is hunched over, laughter bubbling out of her lips, tears dotting the corners of her eyes, reminding Aemond of when he had his hands around her throat only a few hours earlier. The thought makes him shift in his seat, a sliver of heat darting through his abdomen.

“Jace… oh my God,” she stutters out, still laughing, hand lifting up as she shows the table her palm, where a shard of glass sticks out, blood trickling down her wrist. Jace immediately darts forward, grabbing her arm, tilting her hand towards him so he can inspect the wound, eyebrows furrowed in worry. “It’s fine, brother. I’m okay!”

Rhaenyra also rounds the table, cradling her daughter's head against her chest, smoothing a hand down her curls. Lucerys continues to laugh, though it slowly starts to turn into giggles, which eventually die down until she’s left hiccupping, ruddy cheeks stained with tears from her outburst. His mother had run off, and now she returns, first aid kit in hand, which she gives to his half-sister, who puts her hand on Lucerys’ shoulder, pushing her to sit back in her chair. Aemond watches as her blood continues a path down her arm, before beginning to drip onto the surface of the table, leaving small dots of crimson.

She watches with watery eyes as her mother grabs a pair of tweezers, going for the glass jutting out her skin. “Shh, it’s okay, my darling girl.”

The shard is slowly pulled out, a bubbling of more blood rising to the surface, and Aemond watches with a hard cock. It’s placed on a napkin atop the table, next to the pool of blood that now seeps into the wood, yet no one moves to clean it up. Or maybe his mother does, her scabbed fingers wiping the liquid away with a cloth, always one for cleanliness. Aemond wouldn’t know, as his eye is trained on the cut along Lucerys’ palm, as her own mother tends to it. A wipe is swiped across, turning from white to red, and then comes the gauze, which is wrapped around continuously, until the blood ceases to seep through the material. The whole time, his little niece sits without flinching, eyes watching him as he watches her.

When she’s finished, the wound now covered, the room is quiet for just a moment, before a booming clap of thunder echoes against the walls, and the sound of pouring rain pings off the roof. Jace is on his knees beside his sister, hands holding her wrist, whispering apologies in her ear, ones which she doesn’t reply to as she continues to stare across the table. It isn’t until Jace follows her gaze that she replies, before picking up her fork and stabbing at a lone carrot that sits on her plate, bringing it up to her lips as she finally looks away, giving her older brother a smile.

Dinner continues as before, and by now, Aegon has slumped over his chair, fast asleep in his drunkenness. Their mother, surprisingly, pays him no mind, and neither does Helaena, who excuses herself to her room, eyes still focused on the crawling insect she holds. Rhaenyra continuously peeks over at Lucerys, face glossed in worry, but she merely listens to her brother talk, occasionally nodding her head or laughing softly at whatever it is he was droning on about. With nothing to distract him, Aemond is silent in his suffering as he watches her, eye flickering down to her wrapped palm every few minutes, as if willing it to peel off and show him that red slice once more.

The storm has gotten worse, lightning flashing through the closed windows nearly every second, the thunder becoming so loud that it interrupts his mother and half-sisters conversation, the both of them wondering aloud on whether it will pass or continue through the night. It is already dark out, the ticking clock reading nine o’clock, and it is his mother who proposes the idea.

“Please, Rhaenyra,” her fingers rub against her scar, eyes pleading. “Stay. It is too dangerous to leave now, in the dark while it’s storming so heavily. We have more than enough guest rooms for you, Luke, and Jace to stay in.”

His mothers use of Lucerys’ nickname jolts him. Beside him, Aegon lets out a snore.

Despite her wariness, Rhaenyra agrees to stay the night, and Aemond thinks he has never seen his mother so happy before. With a huff, he stands, and when his mother doesn’t even look at him, too busy staring at his whore half-sister with stars in her eyes, he takes that as his cue to leave. He glances over at Lucerys once more, both her and Jace now watching him, their matching eyes and noses making him want to sneer. Instead, he makes his way out of the dining room, his steps heavy as he trudges up the stairs, head throbbing in tune with the pattering rain.

He can barely sleep, his body restless as he tosses and turns among rumpled sheets, nose twitching against the scent of her that still lingers. Aemond swears he can feel her, even as she sleeps just down the hall, and his skin is slick with sweat, a pulse running through his swelling cock. He teases himself, brushing a hand between his thighs, coiling away when he only gets harder, silver hair sticking to his flushed face as he lays there with the heavy weight of shame bearing down on his chest. His only solace being the plip-plop of the rain against his window, the storm now passed, leaving only that soft sound in its wake, soothing along his headache.

Something wriggles beneath the skin of his chest, insistent as he sits up, looking around the dark room, a warning bell ringing within his ears. When he looks out the window, a flash of white crosses his vision, and for a moment, he thinks the storm has started again. It isn’t until he sees her curls, slightly damp and sticking to her shoulders, does he realize that it’s her, not the storm. She walks across the backyard, towards the small woods that sits behind their estate, clad in nothing but her nightgown. Without thinking, Aemond is slipping on a shirt and his shoes, his steps rushed as he sneaks down the stairs and out the backdoor, gaze trained on her retreating figure.

The rain is merely a drizzle now, yet it still dampens his clothes and hair, leaving raindrops along his skin, as he walks between trees, swiping at hanging branches and leaves, holding his breath as he stalks after her. She doesn’t seem to hear him, as she continues on, not faltering in her pace. The path she’s leading looks familiar to him, and he realizes that it’s the same path they used to trek as children. It leads to an old lake, full of tiny fish and swampy water, which they used to dare one another to jump in, all too afraid of what lurked below the muck. When they make it to the clearing, Lucerys doesn’t hesitate to walk up to the bank, standing along withered stones and tall weeds. The sight of the water stops Aemond in his tracks, a memory rushing to him like a vision.

It had been the hottest summer of their young lives that year, and they all spent it among the trees, lounging under the cool air the shade provided, playing trolls and goblins. When they had first discovered the lake, it was Aegon who pushed Aemond in. He had flailed within the dirty water, pale arms splashing through algae and brine as he gasped out for help, not yet knowing how to swim. Jace and Aegon had stood on the bank laughing, and to his horror, Lucerys had disappeared. It wasn’t until she rushed out from the trees, Uncle Daemon in tow, that Aemond was saved, laying along the grass and coughing up water and vomit, shivering under the stares of those around him, Daemon’s hand hard as it slapped his back. His mother had scolded Aegon, who swore he didn’t remember that his younger brother couldn’t swim, and he only became more cruel in his anger after she grounded him.

As he remembers the look on Lucerys’ young face, pinched in worry, cheeks flushed pink and bright eyes teary, he thinks perhaps he had just imagined that part. It was what he once dreamed most of; his niece caring for him. He knows this is far from the truth, as she spins around, arms held out in front of her, gaze locked on his lingering figure. Her lips curl into a sweet smile, and she wiggles her fingers, as if she is beckoning him over. Aemond finds that his rage has made another appearance, replacing his pondering with a rising fury as he makes his way towards her, swaying on her bare feet, her grin brighter than the full moon in the sky above them.

He reaches out for her, hands tight against her arms, and he watches with a curious gaze as her flesh pebbles beneath his touch, her damp skin dotted with raindrops and gooseflesh. Her head is heavy as she beams up at him, eyes hazy with sleep, her lashes fluttering under his stare. She whispers his name, lips plush around the word, dropping her head to rest against his thumping chest, nose nuzzling along the cotton of his shirt. For a moment, Aemond allows himself to revel in her warmth, his own nose resting within her hair, dark curls tickling his cheeks, and he inhales deeply, the smell of lavender and honey and rain intoxicating his senses. Lucerys presses herself closer, and as the minutes tick by, he realizes she has been sleepwalking.

Aemond has only heard tales about Lucerys’ supposed sleepwalking habit. Years ago, according to Rhaenyra, Lucerys had nearly walked out the top window in her room, her eyes open wide in an unwavering stare, bare feet pressed against the sill. It had taken Daemon picking her up and carrying her to her bed to get her to safety, and the next morning, when asked about what had happened the previous night, Lucerys hadn’t a clue what they were talking about. Daemon took to installing locks on all the windows around their home, and after that, Aemond hadn’t heard much else about his niece’s sleepwalking. He figured it was a thing of the past, something she has grown out of in the shedding of her adolescence.

Now, she stands slumped against his chest, breathing steady and her lips parted as soft sighs and snores escape her throat. The rain picks up, drizzling harder than before, and a rumbling of thunder is heard along the horizon, yet Lucerys looks peaceful in her slumber, even as Aemond’s grip on her becomes tighter. A twisted part of him thinks about how easy it would be to hurt her now, as she lays in the mercy of his hands, the same in which once easily wrapped around her throat and squeezed until her face was red. Another part of him, one much darker and persistent, wishes to slip the thin straps of her nightgown down her shoulders, to suckle on her pert nipples which press against the sheer satin, to dip a hand between her supple thighs and caress the hottest part of her.

Her neck is bare, and as he looks down, he realizes with sudden certainty that there is no one here to stop him. The moon is aglow, locusts buzzing within the grass, an occasional hoot from a lone owl, and they are in the middle of the woods, in a place unknown by anyone but them as children. She is pliant within his hold, lashes resting against her cheeks, heartbeat steady within her delicate chest. It is something he had once dreamed of, swathed in sweat-soaked sheets, cock spent along his taut stomach. And with a single dip of his chin, he is able to press his lips along the skin of her neck, right below her thrumming pulse.

She doesn’t stir, not even as his lips form a path down to her collarbones, the bones jutting out just enough for him to bite around, the feel of it between his teeth making him groan. His tongue slicks against the mark, dipping into each indent, before making its way up to her jaw, where he nibbles and sucks on the skin. His hands have moved to rest upon her hips, but as she starts to slip from his grasp, he wraps his arms around her waist, pressing her close to him once more, her breasts plush against his soaked shirt, nipples scratching between them.

He barely hears the gasp. “A-Aemond…?”

Her hands come up to his shoulders, pushing frantically as he bites down on the skin of her jaw, the sharp ache making her yelp. When he tastes blood, he finally softens, lips now wrapped around the skin, tongue lapping over the small wound. As Lucerys continues to squirm, fingernails now digging into his skin, he wrestles her to the ground, hands squelching in the mud beneath her as he holds himself above her, lips stained with a single drop of blood.

“Where are we? How did…” she trails off, realization clicking as she takes in the dark sky and the pajamas she still wears. Her eyes are glossy as she gazes up at him, the mark on her jaw shining like a beacon, encouraging him to press himself against her again. This time, she doesn’t struggle, still confused as she looks around the clearing, catching sight of the familiar lake.

His cock is pulsating as it rests between them, and he barely notices as he cants his hips to rub along her clothed cunt, white-hot pleasure shooting up his spine, making him close his eye and press his lips to her throat once again. Her breath hitches at his movements, her own legs unconsciously spreading wider, opening herself up for him to rut against her like a hound in heat. Shame twinges within his brain, yet Lucerys wraps an arm around his back, as if encouraging his ministrations, and he forces it to the back of his mind as he digs his fingers into the slick mud, hips rocking faster. She whines out, “Aem.”

In a frenzy, he brings a hand up to paw at her dress, tugging down the straps until he bares her breasts, mud staining the fabric and her skin. His lips are quick to wrap around them, going back and forth between the two, before slipping a pert nipple into his mouth, groaning at the taste of her. He imagines them swollen with milk, her stomach round with his child, her hands smoothing down his hair as he nurses from her, her sweet liquid warm as it pools in the pit of him. He grows harder at the thought, teeth nibbling at the bud, his body weight crashing atop her as he brings his other hand over to caress her other breast, fingers tweaking the lonely nipple. Her back seems to arch beneath him, her own hips matching the rhythm of his, her breath hot against his head.

“Please,” she whispers, tugging at the strands of his hair. When her pulling becomes harsher, he allows her to tug him up, her mouth agape as she tilts her chin, searching for his lips. She kisses him, wanton as she juts out her hips against his, hands frantic as they run down his shoulders and under his soaked shirt, nails scratching along his skin. Her tongue slips over his, and he thinks she tastes like the sweetest poison, of cherries and arsenic.

He pushes himself up once more, knees digging into the earth beneath him, and he doesn’t think as he rips off her dress, pulling it down her legs in one swipe. Her underwear is purple, a pretty shade of lilac that reminds him of his own eye, with a little rose in the middle, now stained with mud and grass as she writhes, trying to hide the patch of wetness that seeps through the dainty fabric. Aemond is quick to lean down, pressing his nose against her navel, the smell of rain and sleep tainting her flesh, and he gives her a small lick, from her belly button to the hem of her underwear. She whines, bare chest heaving as she looks down at him, eyes pleading underneath a cloud of wariness, brows furrowed as if she is fighting a battle within her mind. When he comes face to face with her clothed cunt, he doesn’t hesitate to press his tongue against the spot of her arousal, the cotton soft along his tongue as he laps at it, trying to taste her slickness.

“Iksan jāre naejot qogralbar ao,” he grits out over the rain, his cock aching as he lays flat against it, head still between her thighs. “Yn jaelan naejot sylutegon ao ēlī.” (I am going to fuck you. But I want to taste you first).

He doesn’t ponder over whether she knows High Valyrian, the language of their ancestors, but when she lets out a moan, her head nodding against the ground, a sense of pride settles within him. He pulls the last remaining piece of clothing off, bringing his hands to her thighs, which he pushes up so that her knees are pressed against her chest, leaving her wide open for him. A groan leaves him at the sight of her wet cunt, and when he lays his tongue flat against her pearl, he nearly creams his pajama pants at the pulsing of her and the taste of her arousal. Like a man starved, his tongue laps over the whole of her, licking and sucking as she writhes and moans, a flush starting from her chest to her hairline washing over her like a veil. His hips grind into the earth below him, his eye focused on her wet face, strands of her dark hair stuck to her cheeks and across her gaping lips. He thinks she might look even prettier like this than when she cries.

She’s wanton in her moans, head lolling back and forth, eyes squeezed shut as Aemond presses a finger into her wet cavern, his own eye fluttering shut at the tightness, a ring of soft muscles clenching down. His tongue focuses on her pearl, which throbs as he flicks and presses against it, engorged in its pleasure, and as he crooks a finger up inside her, her hips buck up in a spasm, though the grip he has on her legs, which still press up to her chest, stops her from moving. A loud whimper leaves her lips, and her peak comes quickly, her arousal gushing around his finger. When she finally calms down, going slack under him, he pulls his finger out and immediately licks her cream off it, before going back in to clean up her now sensitive cunt.

Her fingers tangle within his hair, tugging to pull him off her as she wriggles under his licks, and when he finally pulls away, her grip is strong as she whines before he gives in and rests his weight above her, lips hovering her own. Her tongue comes out to lap at them, small kitten licks that grow more greedy, until she’s slipping between them and pressing him close to her. She groans, perhaps at the taste of herself on his tongue, her hips already jutting back up against him, brushing over his aching cock, desperate for more like his own ravenous whore. His hands are quick as they push down his muddied pants, cock springing up against his soaked abdomen, bringing the head to rub along the seam of her. Lucerys seems to tense under him at the feeling, but he pays no mind as he presses the tip against her tight hole, still slick and warm even after her peak.

“Aem-“ she gasps out, hands against his shoulders, eyes wide in fear at the feeling of his cock pressing into her. “I…”

He slams his hips flush against her with a grunt, a yelp escaping her quivering mouth, fingernails digging deep into the cotton of his shirt. Tears immediately start to stream down her flushed cheeks in rivulets, soft sobs building up within her closed throat. Aemond has never felt such dizzying pleasure, white hot and shooting through every nerve in his body, until he feels like he’s aflame. He doesn’t falter as Lucerys cries, his pace fast and deep, pulling out until just the tip of him remains, before slamming back in, his sack slapping against her ass. When he looks down, he can see her blood on his cock, and the sight of it, as well as the confirmation of her virginity, makes him grow frenzier, tongue running along her salty cheeks, moaning at the taste of her tears. He wants to bite her, to draw blood, to taste the very marrow of her.

A growl leaves him as he bites down against her wet cheek, the chub of it soft between his teeth. Her hands are quick to shove at his chest, though her moans and the sounds of her slickness, sticky against him, makes him believe his sweet little niece likes it just as much as he does. When he pulls away, he revels in the sight of the marks he left, bright pink and sure to turn a purple-blue after. Her sobs slowly turn into hiccups, which turn into moans that she tries to hold back with a bite to her lips, but when Aemond wraps one hand around her throat, they turn into gasps. He squeezes hard, holding for just a few seconds, before slackening his grip, letting her breathe if only for a moment, hips digging painfully into the back of her thighs with every thrust.

“You’re h-hurting me, uncle,” Lucerys cries out, doe eyes red from her tears, peering up at his grunting face above her own flushed one. “Kostilus.” (Please).

“Mazemilā ziry hae se sȳz byka līve iksā,” he sneers, bringing his body down to rest against her shivering frame, arms wrapping around her back, slick along the mud. He presses her flush to him, and she is quick to hold onto him, legs curling below the crook of his arse. “Mirre ñuhon.” (You will take it like the good little whore you are. All mine).

Her moans are sticky against his neck, lips brushing along the damp skin every time she opens her mouth, the sounds ringing in his ears above the pittering of the rain and the grumbles of occasional thunder. His fingers scratch down her back, hips stuttering as her cunt squeezes around his cock, warm and slick and unwilling to let him go. When she pulls her head up from its spot against his neck, hands scrambling to rest along his jaw, bringing his face up to look at her, eyes zoning in on the empty socket where his left eye once sat, it is then that he realizes he didn’t put on his eyepatch. He nearly shrinks into himself, jerking his chin away from her grasp so he can sink his face back against her hair, but she doesn’t relent. Instead, her fingers trace along the jagged scar, lips open in awe as she admires the work of her own hand.

Lucerys presses her lips right below the gaping hole of his eye, tongue gentle as she licks up the length of his scar. With her mouth resting just above the dark cavern, she whispers the words he has always wanted to hear, “I’m sorry, Aem. Iksan vaoreznuni.” (I am sorry).

He pushes her down to the wet ground once more, head slamming into the slush below, and she lets out a squeal, hands scrambling to push herself up. His hips snap into hers, palms tight against her wrists as he holds her down, vision a red haze. It isn’t enough. Her apology means nothing to him now, all these years after. Years spent mourning the loss of his eye, ruminating in the humiliation and injustice of that night, listening to the whispers of his classmates as they pondered over what sight sat beneath his leather eyepatch. Years of sharp pain shooting through his empty socket, of headaches that never went away, of dreaming of the one who caused this agony, her pretty face and that ringing laughter. Nothing she can say will ever be enough.

Tears stream down her pink cheeks, repainting the tracks left previously, her moans now gasps of pain and pleasure. He sits on his knees, her ass across his thighs, hips lifted upwards as he fucks her pliant body, like his own little doll. Her hair is matted with a mix of rain and mud, lips quivering and her eyes squeezed shut, a flush of shame and arousal settling across her bare chest. She looks so beautiful, so much like that young girl who has haunted his dreams since they first met, when she was just a babe and he a little boy who couldn’t yet form a sentence.

One of his hands slides up her bruised wrist, to rest along the gauze-covered palm, drawn to the wound that will scar her. His fingers dig beneath the wrap, lifting it up until the cut is bared, and as he feels her clench around him again, a breathy moan leaving her lips as her release washes over her, he leans his head down to lick along the seam. Dried blood flakes away, and as he presses his wet muscle harder, the cut reopens, blood blossoming out of it like a stream of water, which he doesn’t hesitate to lap over. His own release hits him like a tidal wave, the taste of her blood intoxicating him as he presses into her with one final thrust, his other hand going to grab onto her waist, thumb brushing against the bulge of his cock in her abdomen. She lays motionless as he uses her, until only small dots of blood remain along the reopened wound, and his cock has softened inside her, his seed hot against her womb.

Aemond rolls off of her with a grunt, hissing as her spent cunt seems to grasp at him as he pulls out. Between her thighs is a mess of blood and semen, a mix of their essences wet along his cock, and he almost hardens at the sight. He brings his fingers up to gather the pooling of the liquid that seeps out from her hole, roughly pushing it back in with a groan, her whimper sending another wave of arousal down his spine. She twitches beneath him, and when he is confident that his seed has stuck, he removes himself from her, rolling over onto his back and gazing up at the full moon, no longer covered by storm clouds. Beside him, Lucerys is quiet, only an occasional sniffle, and it seems like they lay there for hours, not speaking, not moving. Just waiting, three eyes focused on the night sky above them.

When she finally gets up, he watches with a hazy eye as she pulls on what remains of her nightgown, now a tattered, muddied mess of silk. She starts to walk off on shaky legs, but she pauses, turning back to look down at him.

“It was an accident, you know,” her voice is raspy, throat sore from the moans and cries that left her lips that night. “We were kids… I thought you were gonna kill Jace. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry, Aemond.”

He doesn’t say anything. She waits a few more moments, before finally walking off, her figure disappearing among the trees, leaving him alone by the still lake. He brings his fingers up to his lips, still wet from their mixed concoction of semen and blood, and takes his time licking them off. The taste is enough to slowly fill the gaping cavern in his chest, one full of rage and violence, images of his niece's body beneath him, naked in the moonlight, flushed from head to toe, racing through his mind in a kaleidoscope of memories.

Perhaps it was enough. Her apology, those saccharine words that dripped from her tongue like honey. He thinks maybe he can forgive her.

An eye for her innocence, for the blood that stains his cock and teeth.

a/n: this is crossposted to ao3 (user finalgrls)! kinda the darkest thing i’ve written so far, but it’s definitely the work im proudest of. i’d LOVE any feedback, even if it’s negative <3 i hope u enjoyed!

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #house of the dragon #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #female!lucerys velaryon x aemond targaryen #lucemond #aemond targaryen fanfiction

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