#and the feathers are a perfect touch
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msbhagirathi ¡ 7 months ago
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A Tribute To The Most Beautiful Story Penned Down For Arshi
First of all if you haven't yet read it THEN GO AND READ IT RIGHT NOW WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WASTING TIME ON I mean yeah okay i understand you have your priorities but please do give it a read okay?
Link of the OG story I am talking about.
I don't know what am i doing coz i am a lil bit confused about how to do what i am going to do. Lol. Please bear with me. It's just i will pin this post to the navigation button and will keep updating this list of things i will write out to pay a tribute to 'my current favorite fanfic of this century'(this current fav ffs list won't change rather fanfics would keep on getting added to this list, fanfics that literally touched my soul and left a mark somewhere there)
Part 1
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mayoiayasep ¡ 1 year ago
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tatsumi event on aira event 3 year anniversary…
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camellia-thea ¡ 2 years ago
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sometimes you go back to the comfort unpublished fic you've written that you finished nanowrimo for but will never ever put anywhere
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obsesssedblerd ¡ 2 months ago
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when you and satoru gojo started dating and agreed to take it slow, the first thing that you got used to was the fact that his infinity was up 24/7. though you understood and never brought it up, part of you yearned to feel his skin and not the invisible shield that kept him from the rest of the world.
then, during one beautiful evening after a lovely picnic date, you're comfortably lying against his chest—against that familiar shield, until you realize that you aren't.
as he's adorably rambling about something funny that happened while he was teaching the second years, you notice that you feel the material of his jacket against your cheek. then, you realize that the comforting scent you've been inhaling is his cologne. curious, you gently grasp one of his hands that's closest to you, and your heart practically skips a beat when you feel the warmth of his palm for the first time.
satoru senses your excitement and quietly intertwines your fingers with his. it's also his first time touching you without infinity activated, and he wants to savor it. his thumb brushes soothing patterns on your hand, and you don't even realize how hard you're grinning until you feel the strain in your cheeks.
he chuckles, and you look up to see him staring at you, blindfold raised and his blue eyes soft with adoration. "what's got you cheesin' like that, pretty girl?"
you shrug, your smile unwavering. "just thinking about how perfect my boyfriend is."
satoru stares at you for a little while longer, then tilts his head a bit lower. you feel his lips gently press against your forehead, then against your lips, feather-light and brief. the kiss is short, but it's absolutely perfect for the first time.
you snuggle against satoru, and his other hand strokes your soft face. "that's good," he finally replies, "because i'm always thinking about how lovely my girlfriend is."
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luveline ¡ 1 month ago
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𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐬
You’re in love with Spencer from the minute he gets you in his bed. [4k]
c: fem/afab. smut mdni, p in v sex, oral, fluff, aftercare, early intense feelings, spencer in sweetheart mode, flirting.
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It’s a cold day in November when you see him across the bar. He’s sitting at a table of friends drinking from a tall glass of coke. He’s normal. Non-imposing, undeniably cute, laughing with a smile that shows his teeth. His tie is to his belt and his suit jacket’s been thrown over the back of the chair. 
He looks like he might have fun with you, if you can catch his attention. Something about him seems… eager to please. 
You watch him, and you watch his friend. He seems more your usual type, muscled, confident. He’s the key. You let your gaze linger on the curly-haired boy until the friend glances your way. You give him a look. Hey, who’s your friend?
You look away once you see an arm rise. There’s elbowing, arguing. You sit relaxed at the bar and twists your straw through cherry spritz, ice cubes tinkling. After a minute you think, Oh, come on. After two you worry you aren’t his type. 
Then comes salvation. The curly haired boy slots between your seat and the next, beckoning the bartender forward with a nearly perfect, “Excuse me?” 
“Right there with you.”
You wait. He seems cute, but you’re not trying to take him home if he doesn’t have the chops for it. And not because you see yourself as some deadly thing to be pleased, but you can’t spend another night fluffing someone else’s feathers. 
“Hey,” he says finally, surprisingly without the nerves you’d read before. He must’ve breathed through them. “How’s it going?” 
You lift your gaze from the dark purple of your spritz. The first thing you notice are the beauty marks you couldn’t see before, along his cheeks and hiding among a light shadow of stubble. “Hi, handsome,” you say softly. You can’t imagine him liking a firm touch, but that might become more apparent later on. “Nothing’s going on, I suppose I was just waiting for you.” 
“Yeah?” he asks. 
“Mm-hm.” 
He puts one arm on the bar. You let your eyes dawdle on his hand. “Are you here alone?” 
“I was with a friend,” you confess, lifting your gaze to his, making steady eye contact for as long as he’ll allow you to. His gaze flits to your mouth as you continue. “But she met somebody. I was told not to wait up.” 
“So you’re in need of company?” 
You tip your head to give him the best glance at you, all eyes and gentle smiles as you nod. “Would that be you?” 
“What are you drinking?” 
“Cherry spritzer.” 
“Can I buy you another one?” 
“Just one, please.” You believe in the overarching reach of sexuality, of being with someone, but you don’t believe in drinking and sex, nor allowing a man to pave the way. “This is my first. If I have more than that I’ll be too tipsy to do what I want tonight.” 
“What’s that?” he asks. 
You tap your nose. The boy —the man— to your delight, seems to like the gesture very much. 
The bartender approaches. Your unknown, lovely looking man asks for a coke and a cherry spritzer, extra cherries, though you didn’t tell him too. He nods to your little plate of cherry stems and asks, “Can you tie a knot?” But before you can answer, he adds, “I’m good at it.” 
Spencer proves to be good at a few things. Kissing, touching, his face in sweet places and his spit-wet thumb to a nerve. One moment you’re sitting at the bar wondering if he’ll take you home and the next you’re taking a taxi, you’re lying in his bed being stripped of your stockings, being laid on top of. You didn’t know he had it in him, this sweaty, adoring kissing in the dark; there’s a difference between kissing for hunger’s sake and kissing with love, and for some strange reason Spencer doesn’t seem to know the difference. 
“Have we met before?” you ask, the ache between your legs sharper than ever as his hand flirts with the boundary of your stomach and the apex of you, begging to go back there and prolong what he’d started. 
“No.” His lips are on your neck, kissing as he slips a finger behind your ear. “I’d remember.”
His chest pushes into yours again, triggering a breathy gasp as the button of your nipple takes the brunt of him. He turns your face, that flirting hand abandoning your wanting cunt to squeeze at your sides, your ribs, the soft hill of your breast. 
“Do you wanna cum again?” he asks softly. The best part is that he’s earnest, not a second of bravado in it as he lays his lips against your cheek. 
You could. He’d done stuff with his mouth you’ve never experienced before, fingertips teasing your wetness as he told you something about tantrics and pleasure, his hand under your knee, holding you open. You’d felt so suddenly out of control and —and honestly, you’d thought yourself half in love with him for the way he was kissing you alone. No shyness, but softness. No rushing, no annoyance when it took you time to tip into pleasure. He’d been delighted when you seized, had sat up to draw the climax out with circles, matching pace to your rising chest. 
You slip a hand into his curls and treat him with the same sweetness he’d given you, kissing him like you love him: for whatever time this is, you really do. He’s the prettiest boy you’ve ever fucked. All it took to meet was a snowstorm and a need to escape the rigid cold. 
“I think you should fuck me now,” you say, scratching his scalp lightly, not so frantic, no more pulling. “Please.”
He kisses you, kisses your jaw, and doesn’t pretend he isn’t eager as he snatches the condom from the dresser. For a while things are giggly and breathless, nervous for a pause, then achingly tight. You stay and Spencer wraps his arms behind you, kissing your neck as you let your leg fall to the side. 
“When did you tell me your name?” you ask, breathless again as his kiss matches his rhythm, slow grinds of his hips, flirting as his hand had been, just a few inches from filling you completely. 
“I don’t remember,” he says through a kiss.
“Spencer.” 
“Yeah?” 
“I just thought I’d try it,” you say, covering your eyes with your hand as his hips flex and he touches that worst part of you over, and over, and over. 
Spencer turns your face to take your hand, slowing to a crawl. He checks your gaze, and sinks into you again. Slow fucking, long kisses, his hands rubbing up the juncture of your neck and down again, then stroking your arms, comfort for a pain you don’t feel. 
“What do you want me to do?” he asks quietly. 
“Just this.” 
“No, but what do you want?” he asks, lips pulled into a smile that didn’t quite make it into a laugh. “What feels best? I can get you there again.” 
So you end up more on your side than your back. He helps you lift a leg over his hip and then he’s back to kissing you senseless. You can’t think of anything but being kissed, being fucked, it doesn’t just feel like an okay pastime with a vaguely handsome guy heightened by a drink, it’s fucking with intent. He curls an arm behind your back to hold you against him and he lets you have everything. 
Something must give you away, a shaking leg, the way you breathe; he knows you’re ready before you do, kissing down your chest as his hand sinks between your hot thighs. Slick or not, he finds where he wants to touch, your eyes filling with heat as he slows. 
He draws it out. The second his lips find your chest you trip into cumming for the second time. You hadn’t realised he was close but you cum and he quickly follows, his nose at your collar. He sounds insane. Beggy, breathy moans, a shade from laughter.
“Can I keep going?” he asks just under your ear. 
You can’t say yes fast enough. He’s kind, ignoring your desperate tone. 
You don’t count the number of times you fuck that night. It’s not clear, really. They aren’t separate occasions. You come down and he’s stroking the skin of your neck as you catch your breath, drawing lines down your arm, murmuring, “You okay?” as you nod and slip a hand behind his back. 
He hugs you like he’s known you for years. When you kiss his blushing chest, kiss downward, he turns breathless. It goes on like that for a while. Afterwards, he situates himself between your legs and lets his weight force your thighs into your abdomen, just enough to feel the pressure, searching kisses pressed to your knee. 
It’s not that you fuck all night, it’s just different than before. And when he encourages you under his sheets to lay behind you, there’s a part of you that wants his hand to stray between your legs again, no matter how tired you are. 
“I’d say sorry for keeping you up, but you sounded like you liked it,” he murmurs in the dark, wrapping a solid arm around your stomach and pulling you tightly to him.
You have no regrets. For perhaps the first time ever, it feels as though all your gasps and teary sighs were adored, and not just smugly kept. “You didn’t notice me falling asleep?” 
He laughs at your teasing, his breath kissing the back of your neck. “When did that happen?” 
“…I don’t want to fall asleep, now.” 
“You don’t have to… I can make you a cup of tea, or…” He draws another line down your arm, ending in a swirl before your elbow. “You could shower.” 
Both sound nice, but no. Your legs are still weak from being held, the ache of a good fuck taking home in your stomach. Truthfully, nothing could make you wanna leave whatever it is he’s doing to you now. The shape of his lips warms your shoulder. 
“That was amazing.”
“You’re amazing,” he says, wrapping you up all over again. He can’t decide how to hold you. You grab his hand and keep it there under your breasts, letting your eyes flutter closed. 
How can he say that? He has this strange way of touching that’s making you feel yards prettier than you usually do, and he’d just fucked you like a dream. You couldn’t manage that sort of pleasure alone. 
“Where have you been hiding?” you whisper, toying with his fingers. Might as well do everything you can while you can. 
“Nowhere.” 
“So where have you been?” 
He takes a breath. “Turn around?”
You begin turning and he takes you like a dance, leaning in slowly to kiss you, until his smoothness gives way to a smile. He pulls back. In the barest lick of light from the window, you can see a blush spreading across his nose. 
“Sorry. I should ask, I shouldn’t just kiss you,” he says, cupping your cheek. 
How might you go about marrying this boy? You decide to play it cool, kissing him until you fall asleep in his arms, your lips still parted for another lazy press of his as he pulls the sheets over your shoulders. 
—
You wake to something new. There isn’t a man against you hinting for a morning tryst, nor an empty bed, a note to let yourself out when you’re ready. There’s a real, gentle hand on your neck. It slides to your shoulder and rubs. 
“You okay?” a voice asks. 
You force your eyes open, blurry vision further occluded by a face. 
His hair is damp. Like he showered a while ago. Spencer’s hand travels to the back of your neck and touches accordingly. “I wouldn’t have bothered you, but it’s almost one. I was worried you might be sick.” 
You close your eyes, smiling, better when he scratches the back of your neck with short nails. “I was up late.” 
“I know, I’m  sorry.” 
You wait for him to tell you why you have to leave, any manner of excuse, but nothing comes. 
“So are you? Okay?” he asks gently. 
“I’ll leave soon.” 
“That’s not what I’m trying to say. If you’re not sick, you can go back to sleep.” 
“And just lay in your bed all day,” you murmur, disbelieving. 
“If you wanted to. Or… you can shower, and I can make you something to eat.” His thumb takes to your cheek. One night stand sex can’t be something he does often, or there’s a real possibility that he’s the first man to ever do it right.
His eyes are so much bigger than you realised. “Do you wear glasses?” 
He stammers, embarrassed, “How would you guess that?” 
You raise a hand to his face and draw a short line against his nose. “You have the marks here. Were you reading?” 
“Just while I was waiting for you.” 
“What do you do?” 
“What?” 
“I didn’t ask what you do, I don’t think we managed to ask each other much of anything,” you say, rewarded for your vulnerability with a chest-aching smile, his canine teeth peeking from under his lips. He still looks kissed, lips a shade of sore you’re sure you’d see on yourself in the mirror. 
“I work for the government,” he says, catching your hand to cradle your wrist, “for something called the behavioural analysis unit.” 
“Like, statistics?” 
He lets your hand fall against his chest, a thin grey t-shirt under your knuckles failing to hide the shapes of him, of which you’d explored at length last night. You kissed as much of his chest as you could and it hadn’t felt like enough, Spencer leaner than you’d realised with a stomach on the soft side, easy to kiss relentlessly. 
Your mouth is drying thinking about it. Spencer watches you wordlessly, before saying, “I guess it is like statistics, especially for me. We try to think about serial criminals in terms of their motives. It’s an attempt at math for something not usually quantitative.” 
“And you’re good at it.” 
“I’m good at math, yeah.” 
“Probability of a,” —your breath betrays you, slightly too hopeful as it catches— “morning kiss if I brush my teeth first?” 
His eyes light up. He leans down carefully, and gives you a chaste, firm kiss. 
You forget that you’re naked, not worried about being shy. The sheets fall away from you as you lift up to meet him. He holds them to your naked waist, the other hand skirting just below your breast. You wish he’d touch you like he did last night, but he isn’t so forward. His kiss is kind. You frown as he pulls away. 
“I had a really great time, last night,” he says, tip of his thumb setting your nerves aflame as it drifts over your skin. “Really great.” 
“Me too.” 
“And you’re okay?” 
“What do you mean?” 
“Nothing hurts?” he asks. 
“No, of course not.” Your confusion clears. “No, you weren’t like that. I think my legs might be aching but that’ll go away in the shower.” 
“I can run you a bath, if you want. It’s a half bath so you might not be able to stretch out, but it’ll help.” He gives you a smile. The familiarity between you doesn’t want to ebb. 
“Shouldn’t have showered without me,” you say, soft, lest playful be something he doesn’t want on a new day. 
“My hair was greasy. Someone kept touching it.” 
You sit up. Spencer’s hands fall to yours.
It’s hard not to play with someone’s hair when it’s in their face, and when they’re trailing kisses in warm places. He doesn’t blame you really, you can see it in his eyes. 
For a pause, you just sit. 
This is nice. Not being thrown out, left with that aching gap in your chest like you gave something you hadn’t intended when it started. Sex will never be easy again, you realise, not when you know it can be good. 
“You’re not working today, are you?” you ask. 
“No, why?” he asks in turn, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. 
“Maybe we…” He waits. He’s pretty enough to force your hand. “We could get to know each other,” you say, gaze taking refuge on his hands. “If you want to.” 
”Really?” 
“I’ve never had that with someone. Maybe we’re, I don’t know, compatible in more ways than one.” You remember yourself, lifting your head, startled by the sheer want in his expression as he holds your fingers. “You’re handsome, and you seem kind. We could have fun.” 
“We could have so much fun,” he says, that flushed blush already spreading across his nose again. 
You draw a line up his chest. “I might need help getting my back, in the shower. That’s not a tight squeeze, is it?” 
“We might have to stand very close.” 
You giggle wildly as he pulls you up, worse when he drapes a sheet over you worrying about the cold. It’s treatment you could grow used to. 
— 
Spencer’s trying to figure out how he got here. You, across the bar sending him looks —Derek swore you were— and the second he got to your chair he realised you were out of his league, but he had nothing to lose beside his pride. 
Then there was you, in bed, pulling on his tie murmuring sweet somethings, sweet pleadings, really, taking another kiss as he moved as you asked. 
Then you, the morning after. You’d slept for long enough to scare him, but when you woke you were exactly the girl you’d been the night before, only slower. Ever so slightly bashful. We could get to know each other. 
Spencer’s not sure how he managed it, but you don’t go home. And on Monday you go to work and come back. On Tuesday he meets you outside of your building to take you for dinner, and you come back with him again, another night up in his arms, tangling his hair with enthusiastic fingers. The sex is good, it is, not just ‘cos his past catalogue of lays were with women who wanted casual experiences solely, or those few times with Ethan where it ended too fast and left him useless. You fuck him like you love him. It’s crazy, except he’s acting the same way. 
When you’re not fucking you’re in his lap, or sitting at the coffee table with your face on his thigh driving him crazy, or you’re laying with your feet tucked under him telling him something about you. He is desperate for the details. 
Like, this is it. You’ve pulled your chair as close to his as humanly possible and thrown both legs over his, basically sharing his seat as you laugh around a messy mouthful of Thai noodles. 
“Don’t look, I’m being disgusting–”
“You’re never disgusting, let me–”
He’s heard you pee. He’s kissed you all over. The human aspects of you don’t bother him. 
“Spence, can you–”
“It’s going up your nose–”
“–stop, holy s–”
He pinches your nose clean. “Tada. Kiss now?” 
“You wanna share?” 
“Yes!” 
“No.” You press your hand to your mouth before he can lean in.
He lets you swallow your mouthful. Your ankle is cool in his hand. When people talk about love, it’s about meeting someone, the dates and the phone calls, the big questions. Spencer didn’t know you could do it like this. Every time you go home, you’re asking if you can come back or pestering him to come your way. 
“Can I kiss you now?” he asks imploringly. 
“No, we’re done kissing for a bit. I want another one of those massages.” 
He can’t joke about it or he’ll turn crimson. You enjoyed a polite leg massage, until he got to your thighs, and things got out of hand. 
“No massages.” He taps you under the chin, letting his hand travel wherever it wants over the side of your face. 
“Fine, no massages. Unless you want one?” 
“No, we agreed tonight we’d just– sleep. My boss is onto me.” 
You wink involuntarily as he cups your cheek, his fingers pushed lightly over your eyes.
You aren’t fiends, but finding someone who matches as you do makes it hard to abstain from the fun. Last night was tame, though; he’d made sure you were happy and fallen asleep to grateful neck kisses. Tonight, he won’t say no, but these all-hours affairs have to stop. Derek’s suspicious of him, Hotch has the situation entirely sussed, he's sure, and Spencer’s sixty percent sure Rossi saw you both outside of Quantico tonight kissing against a toll booth.  
Not that it matters. Spencer has a good feeling you’re not a fling. 
“I got you some stuff earlier,” he says. 
You pull his hand from your face and ask, “What stuff?” 
“Like, stuff you need here. I don’t know what you like, but there’s a cleansing balm– are you allergic to chamomile?” You shake your head. “Um, it might be weird, I got you underwear, just ‘cos of the situation yesterday–”
“I liked wearing boxers, they were snug in a certain region is all–”
“–and some shampoo. That sort of stuff. Just so you can stop suffering with mine.” 
“You know what shampoo I use?” 
“I deduced it.” 
“Ah, yes, mister profiler,” you mumble, bending into your knees to hold his face. “If I hadn’t looked you up online I’d think you were a stalker. How can you guess my favourite ice cream flavour when I never told you?”
He smiles shyly. “I just can.”
“Is there anything else you’ve guessed about me?” 
“Every meal with you takes a half hour. You’re easily distracted.”
He laughs as you protest, “You’re distracting! You don’t need to guess that.” 
“You distract me, too.” 
You gather yourself up and stand over him to kiss his nose. “Spencer,” you whisper, your fingers sliding into his hair, “thank you. You don’t have to buy me stuff, I could’ve just gone home.”
“I don’t really want you to.” 
You raise your head to see him eye to eye. “I don't want to either. This is… I like you.” 
He hums, wrapping his arms around you. The hugs are rarer than kisses, but only because you’ve shared so many of the latter in the dark. He’s been thinking of kisses as the extension to fucking, that they’re okay as long as it’s done in bed, but the more time you stay, the more kisses you’ve shared for no reason at all. You kissed his cheek on the train earlier and he felt it like a shock, tipping his chin down to peck you on the lips, your arm curled behind his back as the traincar rattled over a bend. 
“I like you too,” he laughs. 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah, of course I do.” 
“Not just…” 
“It’s not just the sex,” he says, waving his hand behind your shoulder as you curl into him all over again. It feels amazing. 
“Should we go out, then?” 
“We do.” 
“No, should we date? We could be partners, officially.” 
Spencer can’t take it, scooping you into his lap, though you do sit obligingly on his thigh. He shifts to take the weight. 
“Please, let’s be partners,” he says softly. 
“Maybe we shouldn’t, it’s still soon.” 
“Five days and counting. That’s longer than some marriages, you know.” 
“Maybe we can be, like, tentative boyfriend and girlfriend. If you change your mind, no hard feelings.” 
“And if I don’t?” he asks. 
“Then we get married in Vegas.” 
“You could meet my mom.” 
“I’d love to meet your mom.”
“Do you really wanna be my girlfriend?” he asks. 
“I mean… there’s not such a big difference in dating and what we’re doing, right? This is relationship stuff, we just sort of skipped the awkward first dates.” 
“We did,” he says, failing to hide his grin. 
You stroke his cheek with your nose.
Your attempt at abstinence doesn’t last, but neither party is to blame. You have to celebrate somehow. So you finish your takeout dinner and wash dishes bumping hips. He locks the door for the night and you, giggling, struggle to change his A/C. When he drags you by the sleeve to the bedroom, he doesn’t intend on jumping right into it, and for a while he doesn’t. You lay on top of him between his parted legs and he spends a sluggish hour stroking your hairline, listening to you talk. But his devotion turns to your ear, and he’s kissing behind it, and you’re hitching yourself up his chest soon enough. 
“That cherry spritzer was worth it, huh?” you ask lowly, scratching his jaw as you sit over him.
You really are pretty, amplified by your syrupy smile. 
“I guess that depends what you think. Was I as good at making knots as I promised?” he asks. 
“I can’t remember.” 
“I can remind you?”
“That might be prudent, Dr. Reid.” 
“I never should’ve told you about that,” he murmurs, your lips atop his, ready to be parted. 
“I would’ve found out eventually. I’m gonna find out everything about you, honey.” 
Spencer lets his eyes shutter closed. Me first, he thinks, giving in to another endless kiss. He has the advantage, after all. 
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thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed please consider liking reblogging or leaving a comment/reply it makes my day and I am so grateful<3 
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yuu33 ¡ 1 year ago
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I never knew tumblr had a max tags limit until now. Anyways, I haven't finished gushing in my tags so I thought of this way to continue so don't mind me (kinda sorry for adding it as a reblog but I just love this so much I need to spill abt what I love so much abt this)
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#even in the first panel he said sorry but you could see the (fake) smile and the bubble being black it just gives off the vibes he's scary (and he is) #steven is absolutely the best person to do this #i love the bbb cast reaction so much it's so fitting and in-character of them #i love how klaus is not quite phrase by the dog food but seems more awkward on how to interrupt them (maybe) or awkward bc of how steven did it #zapp face at being fed dog food enough said hahaha #awww look at leo blush #if i was there i would be chain #chain is totally blushing for a different reason from leo #also really love the portrayal of that panel and the pose of ww and vash being closely tgt while showing the cast behind them #it's hilarious how they broke the flow and atmosphere from angst tinged romantic moment to humorous #i really love the storyteller and portrayal in this comic can you tell #steven's final bubble is aaaaaa i love it so much his inner thoughts is probably so obvious to all of them #if only this scene could be animated bc it's so good and i would love to hear their voice actor do this #'and now he can't deny it' aaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAA #bro you spent 150 years and the only reason why the count didn't continue was bc you were forcefully removed from the premises and your target got revived from your deep desire #god i missed shipping wv #the orange/yellow/gold(?) of ww new eye is surprising tho and i wonder if the other eye is still black or also orangey #aaaa i cannot get enough of this comic i keep rereading this and getting all excited and happy again #i need to go find more of this artist and what they drew #also sidetrack but i wonder exact how dark is vash hair in this comic #it seems completely black but i also see lighter tone used for some parts (mostly the roots) of his hair so #i hv mixed feeling about vash's black hair even in canon #i wonder if ww ever mentioned it bc when he died vash hair haven't turn black maybe? I can't remember #ahhhh the lifespan thing is such a killer angst material #also I'm so happy to have found this xover bc i love the trigun and there's not enough fan content on it (or maybe i don't know how to find it bc it's an old series so content might be on older site sry lj i refuse to use u again)
#Vashwood VWinHL AU (Trigun x BBB Crossover) ③ 14p ***TRIMAX SPOILER!***
Wolfwood's eye color/setting is different
BBB characters talked this time
"What did Vash learn from WolfWood?" "Humanity"
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Part 3. Something I want to say: I originally planned to do this way later in the storyline but my plan is never working :D Nothing related to the previous chapters so i didn't do anything in the title -------------------------------
One thing about Vash's eyes color change: The red represents desire.
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It indicates he realized there's a desire deep in his mind.
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And now he can't deny it.
#trigun#VWinHL#kekkai sensen#i am dead at how good this is#1st page was so beautiful ann even vash is looking so dashing with him hiding his face i initially thought it was guilt at getting saved#2nd page slayed me oh OHHHH vash not guilt not guilt#the way he peeks and his eyes#vash handshake you bc MOOOOOOD#those sparkles the timing of the feathers the art perfection#i laughed so hard#wolfwood immediately getting angry (valid) and pointing his massive gun at vash is hilarious too totally worth the entire page art#again ww understanding vash so intimately is aaaaaaaaa#i love it whenever ww vocalise his understanding#AAAAAAAHHHH THAT PAGE THE POSE THE PLACEMENT OF WW'S HANDS SO TENDERLY#(i've spent so time time admiring cough fangirling over each page that the back of my mind caught on that those fluid dripping on vash too)#anyways back to regular screaming: ww pushing his beautiful hot open chest so close to vash's face#tHAT HAND TENDERLY TOUCHING AND CARESSING THE BACK OF VASH'S NECK AAAAAA DINO ROARING#that panel that cuts of vash face i love the angle so much it's such a tease that they're almost kissing#... 150 years...#the deterioration of vash's grave and how vash holds a bottle in each scene#why does the damn couch have to make a reappearance#anyways i really love the art and portrayal of this artist now it's so good#the way that droplet has a tinge of red#man i forgot to mention earlier but the use of colours in this comic is so good too beautiful#colours for the tongue (HOT DAMN) the eyes (I love his eyes and then it turns out the beautiful blue to red/orange held symbolism made it#even more i could wax poetry) colours for the blush aaaaa his blush of realisation#his blush really highlights things#i absolutely love the bbb cast timing gosh#steven's smile and interruption was so perfect and most fitting person to do#...i hit max tags...
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beloveds-embrace ¡ 2 months ago
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Chubby reader x monster!141…. Chubby reader where you are at all-time-low after your ex cheated on you with the woman you had always been insecure of (she was everything you were not), so now you are just done. Done with him, with her, with your terrible work that forced you to come in even while sick, done with life.
So you go to a bar, and intend to fully drink yourself and all your sorrows away. You don’t even care enough to ask any friends to accompany you- they knew. They fucking knew. Calling them friends anymore is just stupid- and you don’t care enough to look around at anyone; you know you aren’t anyone’s preference either.
When a man, big and burly, curling horns and two big ass wings (maybe one of those dragon shifters? You know harpies have feathers, but the rest of your brain is too muddled) sits down next to you, you just ignore him and continue nursing your drink, trying your best to bite back the tears in your eyes.
“That’s enough now, love,” he croons, and much to your confusion, he takes the glass away from you. His voice is rough and rumbling, like thunder. Too hazy, too drunk, you don’t even care enough to get angry at him. No, your eyes fill with tears instead. “No, no, calm down. Let’s get you out of here, alright, little love?”
Another man joins your other side, just as big and burly but shorter than the dragon man who is making you tear up by holding your drink, your source of solace tonight, hostage in his hand. This one is a werewolf, his ears flicking in your direction much like his grin and his tail eagerly thumping to and fro against your chair.
“Sweet lass,” he croons, your teary eyes flicking towards him. You can see his hands clench in the air. Why, why, why- you just wanted to drink away. They are both so handsome, such a shame they clearly don’t like you and are just bothering you for the sake of bothering you, a fat woman in a miserable corner. “Enough tears and enough alcohol, aye, hen? Yer aff yer heid!”
His words are so strange, your tears momentarily pause. “What…?” You wonder outloud, shivering when you feel a warm breath across your neck, warming your skin. The dragon. His hand settles on your lower back, nudging you to get off the chair with them, and you feel like crying again. He probably can feel all the fat there, how horrible-
“Careful there, little love.” Dragon steadies you with two hands when you get dizzy, and with weak hands you try to swat at him, try to move away, but the werewolf is at your other side and keeping you pressed between them.
“S’op… stop callin’ me that,” you mumble. The tears roll down then. “Not- not funny, not at all-“
Two other hands on your back, a tail thumping against the back of your thighs, you are still led outside even as you babble about everything. Your size, your ex, the one your ex cheated, your work, your ex-
You want your damn drink back.
For their part, Price and Johnny didn’t think coming out for a drink tonight would lead to finding their last soulmate. The second they had entered the dinky bar, John had expected to need to puff out a deep, smoky breath to keep his nose clean from all the overwhelming smells and Johnny had prepared to to keep his nose happily pressed into John’s skin.
They hadn’t expected to smell you, something like the smell of stepping into a warm home after spending time out in winter, something like watching soft, golden sunlight stream into the nest room on a morning they spend sleeping in with Kyle and Simon. Like soulmate, like the last link of John’s hoarde and Johnny’s pack, and he has no doubt that you are Kyle’s nest and Simon’s. Simply his. A part of him just as you are a part of them.
Driven so wholly by instincts, seeing you drunk and crying pushing them even more into said instincts, they easily you herd along with them, back to their home. All explanations, everything else can wait until tomorrow. You are so soft to the touch, all tender and squishy, they already think you so perfect. In the back of the car, it doesn’t take seconds before you are dozing off and dead to the world, already so trusting.
By tomorrow morning, Simon would be easily able to track down where you live and get all your items. And also find that shitty ex of yours. John hasn’t yet decided if he wants to thank or beat him.
Watching the way Johnny holds you in his lap from the rearview mirror while he drives, hands squeezing your lovehandles with a low groan, mumbling about how much he already adores you, soft bonnie hen, all theirs- John decides he doesn’t give a single fuck about your ex at the moment. He needs to hold you between his arms and wings, in the comfort of his nest.
Fuck, he might end up breaking more than just a few speed limits.
Part two
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buckyalpine ¡ 2 months ago
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18+ Minors dni. Buckys innocent neighbor who bakes him cookies and muffins just cause. The girl next door who has the coziest apartment he's ever been in. Shelves filled with books along with plenty of comfy blankets decorating the couches. Bucky has his own place right across but home is with her (even if she doesn't know it yet).
She's the type of girl he's going to take his time with, asking her out on a date, just coffee and a walk in the park. Nothing more than a kiss on her cheek at the end of the night. Another date. Dinner. Another kiss to her other cheek. He wouldn't dare rush anything, especially not someone as soft and sweet as her.
He feels like such a dirty little pervert when he thinks about her afterwards when he's alone in bed, all the blood in his body rushing south, and fuck he's so hard. He tries to ignore it, he didn't want to do something so debauched by thinking of her like that, he even tries to think about his grocery list, laundry, he'd probably wash his arm later, it would probably be fine in the dishwasher-
Nothing worked.
He groans, shuffling and kicking his sweats off, hissing when his hand goes down to tug at his aching cock, relief flooding his veins at the sensation. He lets his mind wander to how adorable she'd be, the way he'd take her apart in the most gentle way. Lay her against the pillows while he holds those soft thighs apart, giving her the most feather light suckles on that perfect clit, basking in all the sounds she'd make. He strokes himself faster thinking about the way he'd get her ready to take all of him. How he'd make it so good for her-shit he was going to blow-maybe if he was lucky, one day she'd let him put his cock in her mou-
"Fuck!!" Bucky threw his head back, spurts of cum shooting from his sensitive head, his post orgasm haze leaving him feeling like a filthy old man. She were here making him baked treats and he was jerking his dick off like a sick fuck.
Then the night finally comes. Bucky is ready to cuddle and nothing else but he's thrown off because never in his wildest fantasies did he expect this.
She is the girl who sends him reeling the first time he takes her clothes off one by one revealing dark ink on her back and hips. He has to suppress a growl, his eyes growing wide at the scantily clad lace that covers her body.
"Like what you see, Sergeant?" she practically purrs in his ear while he lets his han ghost over her bare skin, his chest heaving when his eyes fall to her perfect breasts, hints of silver peeking from under her lingerie, there was no way-
"Can I?" He asks breathlessly, his hand reaching behind to unclasp the bra, those pretty pierced nipples begging to be sucked.
Bucky who turns into a fucking menace, his entire world flipping upside down when she grinds down on his crotch not hiding exactly what she needs from him. He doesn't even have the ability to hide how feral he is, letting all his inhibitions slip.
-
"My little bunny's a slut, fuck, c'mere" He grabs you and tosses you over his shoulder, hauling you over to his bedroom like an untamed beast, tossing you onto his bed with no remorse. You're in nothing but your panties which he rips right off, your thighs squeezing together at the way he stalks over to you, his hungry eyes raking up and down your body without an ounce of shame. He tugs his sweats down to reveal his leaky cock, stroking it at the edge of his bed after tossing his shirt off.
"See this baby? Been fuckin' stroking and touching myself like a fuckin' teenager because of you-" He throws off his pants before climbing onto the bed and kneeling between your thighs, spreading them apart with his knees, "-and you've been here lookin' like God damn sin under those cute little sweaters"
He flicks his cockhead against your clit, humming at the clear beads of his arousal that drip onto your cunt.
"Fuck James, need more, pl-"
"Nuh uh, what was that you called me earlier, sweets?" He lets out a dark chuckle, the veins in his cock throbbing as he tightly holds the base, waiting to hear it again.
"Sergeant" you whine with mischief in your eyes and Bucky is a goner. He'll taste you later and most definitely feed you his cock another day but right now he wants to be nowhere else other than your pussy. He wants to watch you take every bit of him, rolling over to lay on his back while you straddle him, his length slotted against your cunt. He holds it up for you with a cocky look on his face, moaning when his tip breeches your tight pussy, your walls gripping his swollen, pink head.
"That's just the tip baby, c'mon, sit on it, wanna put all of my dick in you, that's it, good girl-shittt"
"Oh fuccckk,s'big" You moan feeling the stretch as you sink all the way down, panting and staying still while you adjust to his size.
"That's it bunny, that's it, ride me, ride your Sergeant" He grabs you by the hips, guiding you to grind down on him, making you feel his entire cock in your stomach. "You're a slut for big dick aren't you baby, acting all cute and shy when all you really wanted was the winter soldier's cock"
Bucky wasn't even sure where all the filth spewing from his mouth was even coming from but he couldn't stop.
"S'that it bunny? Say it baby, tell me how much you wanted my fat cock in you"
"Wanted it! F-cuk Sergeant, wanted your cock s-o-so bad!!"
"Fuck yes!!" His feet plant to meet your bounces, his hips thrusting up, slamming his entire length into you. "M'close, fuck bunny, gonna cum already, I can't hold it-
He doesn't have time to be embarrassed. You feel to good. He rubs your clit needing you to cum all over him so he can let go.
"Please, cum all over Sergeants cock baby, give it to me, be a good girl n'cum, c'mon, cum on my dick, yes, oh fuck yes I can feel it-milk it, shit touch my balls-"
You nearly collapse as your orgasm starts to wash over you, his sponge head hitting the most sensitive parts against your walls while he toys with your clit. His voice is muffled as you start to feel waves of pleasure consume you but you head just enough to reach behind, rubbing his heavy, so full of cum ba-
"FUUUCCCCKKK" He grabs you and wraps his arms around your body while he relentlessly thrusts up, biting down on your shoulder while he lets out the sluttiest, loudest moan with 0 remorse. It feels too good and he's sure the neighbors can hear but honestly, everyone should know how amazing it feels.
-
"I got you pretty baby" Bucky coos as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, a shiver running through you while you float in bliss. Bucky pulls the covers up, deciding to cuddle up with you for a bit before running a shower, his previous demeanor replaced with the far less debauched version of him.
Anyway, just an idea. Also, it's past my bedtime.
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dolicekiss ¡ 5 months ago
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Apple Of Their Eye
part two here
PAIRING: Dark! Aegon Targaryen X sister!reader X Dark!Aemond Targaryen
CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni) incestuous relationship, dark!targaryen brothers, innocent virgin!reader, dubcon, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, handjob, riding, breeding, threesome, kissing, possessive behaviour, nipple play, throat fucking, drunk reader, praise, pretty much the targaryen brothers giving their sister sex lessons and claiming her as theirs.
SYNOPSIS: Being close to both your Targaryen brothers had its own perks. Drinking wine together, going horse riding and reading books. It was all a dream but when Aegon heard the talk of your betrothal, he decided it was finally time to taint you. What you didn’t expect was Aemond walking in on you indulging in your older brother’s sickly pleasures.
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Giggles erupted from your lips when your sweet brother, Aegon made a weird face to encourage sweet giggles out of you. His favorite sound in the world, as he liked to address it. Your bond with both your brothers was something never seen before among house Targaryen. Fiercely loyal to each other, defensive and protective. You were the perfect trio of destruction — well, with a honeyed touch of peace.
That was your vital role.
To calm down the blood of the dragons.
You had grown so attached to one another that both your brothers denied the responsibilities of the throne, wishing to spend time with you.
You had to convince Aegon to sit upon the throne and he agreed in one go when his little sister asked for it. How could he not? You were looking up at him with such hopeful, glimmering eyes, those long lashes of yours coating the apple of your cheeks.
He often wondered if his bridled desires would break out of control one moon and find way to you?
Aemond entered the room, hand resting atop his sword as he analyzed the room, which was in shambles. You and Aegon again had enjoyed a pillow fight — pieces of feathers and cotton everywhere in the room. Pale sheets on the floor and wine spilled everywhere.
He was the youngest, yet he felt as though he was the oldest amongst you three. You and Aegon behaved like little children, even when you were younglings. Aegon and you would disturb the council members and pull hilarious pranks on them meanwhile Aemond paid them no mind.
“You two.” His voice put a hold to your giggles, your attention diverting to your brother. Your silky strands — similar to Aemond’s — were a mess. They reached your hips, only at such a young age and Aemond couldn't keep his one eye off the loose strap of your dress over your creamy shoulder.
Aegon smirked to himself, knowing well him and his brother shared their feelings about you.
You smiled at Aemond, a big grin of excitement adorning your soft, delicate features. “Aemond! Come here, have wine with us.”
He shook his head. “I have duties to tend to, sister. You carry on.”
Your lips formed a frown. “But Aemond, I miss you. You rarely ever spend time with Aegon and I. Do we bore you now, do you seek fun in planning war and those boring councils?”
Aegon nodded in agreement and Aemond shook his head, walking closer and taking a seat on the bed with you. Aegon had his head on your lap, staring at you with love sick eyes of a puppy. Your flushed state and rosette cheeks were a vision for Aemond — his callous hands aching to touch you.
“Aemond how can you neglect our beautiful sister here?” Aegon taunted, reaching out to wrap a finger around a strand of your silver hair and curl it. You smiled at him, cheeks round and Aemond swallowed. “I am not neglecting her, I am merely occupied with tending to my duties since no one else will.”
He diverted his one eye to Aegon and the older brother groaned, tugging on the single strand of your hair. You whimpered at the pain, lips puckering into a pout. “Aegon, stop it.”
“You shouldn't trust Aegon so much, sweet sister. He is all but a twat,” Aemond’s words made you turn to him and he looked away from you, not wanting his gaze to linger somewhere below where he was allowed. His own reluctance at being around you proved that he too struggled with the same demons his older brother did.
Aegon sat up now, eyes boring into Aemond’s. “And why shouldn't she? I pay her more mind, more attention than you ever would.”
“I trust him, brother. You should too, he's our king and he cares for me.” You softly spoke.
Your soft soothing voice was like the sun against their cold words. Aemond pondered late at night how their monstrous house got blessed with such a sweet little thing? Repentance was not something that came to house Targaryen — so why were they bestowed with you?
Your kindness, to the maids — the highborn ladies and even the members of the small council made you quite the perfect candidate for queen, especially when the realm loved and adored you. The sweet daughter of Viserys Targaryen, left behind to bring prosperity and love.
“Yeah, she trusts me.” Aegon said, scooting behind you. His chin nestled over the small cup of your shoulder, staring straight ahead with mischief in his gaze. “Don't you, sweet sister?”
You nodded, coyly.
He was almost taunting Aemond, being able to stay this close to you while he was busy with preparing for war. It was not fair, definitely to Aemond it was not. He inhaled a sharp breath as Aegon buried his face in the crook of your neck, accidentally pressing a kiss to your exposed skin. Your body shuddered and you quickly pulled away from him, staring at him in confusion.
Aemond felt a lump form in his throat.
Fuck, you were so innocent. Oblivious to the sick desires of both your brothers.
“Be careful, sister.” Aemond said to you, gesturing towards the other Targaryen brother. “You're too innocent for your own good.”
Then he got up, parting from your chambers, hoping that the next time he enters, he finds you all alone and not with that foolish brother of his. He did not harbor resentment towards Aegon necessarily, but ever since they were children, they fought. For a dragon, for toys and for your attention. It had been a constant battle of who'd bring you the prettiest flower first, who would be first to dance with you at feasts, who's horse you'd sit on and ride.
For everyone else it was draining but you relished the attention you got from your brothers. Enjoying each and every bit of the fight going on for you — only you didn't knew it went beyond the walls of brotherly love and they were horrifyingly obsessed with you.
Aemond had turned down every marriage alliance, not interested in securing the future of the realm if it came at the expense of being far from you. A woman would only act as a wall between the two of you and Aemond did not want any walls. He would gladly crush them, with or without the help of Vhagar.
You prepared another cup of wine to drink but Aegon was called to the council — arranged by the dowager Queen. Crestfallen, you let your brother go as he fixed his attire and departed from your chambers, after leaving a sweet kiss on your forehead.
As soon as Aegon entered the council room, he's greeted with everyone there. Each member and with a scowl on his face, he takes his seat. Evidently upset by having to leave his sister, even though he could go back to her at anytime.
“Your Grace.” Everyone greeted him, standing up and heads low. Aegon gestured them to sit and they obliged, following into their comfortable seats.
Alicent looked at the council members, knowing that the discussion they had come to would eventually upset the King. Everyone was hesitant and Aegon noticed that. He raised a brow, confused. “Are we here to stare at one another? If we are, do excuse me. I have pressing matters to attend to.”
Everyone knew pressing matters meant giving his undivided attention to his little sister.
“In order to secure house frey and gain access and control to the passage in riverrun, we think it would be best to form a marriage alliance with them.” Alicent’s words didn't actually hit Aegon how they were supposed to, as he grinned. “We cannot offer a dragon, we can offer a dragon.”
Assuming the marriage alliance was for Aemond, his younger brother not his little sister. “Great, it is about time Aemond finds himself a pretty bird too.”
He was cheerful. If Aemond was married, he would have your attention all to himself and he became overjoyed with that, a little too fast. Alicent swallowed, exchanging glances with the master of coin and the maester. Her hesitance was in existence because she did not know how maturely her son would handle to the news of sending his only sister away from him.
“Your Grace, the marriage alliance is for your sister, the Princess. House frey has suitors available and the Princess gets to choose with whom she wishes to ma—”
Aegon’s palms slammed down against the wooden table, rising up from the table. His gaze searing and his lips quivering from the sheer courage of Tyland Lannister’s, to marry his sister off without even inquiring him about it. The fact that they even thought of doing that filled him with a rage so overwhelming, he felt like burning the whole small council to the ground.
“That is my sister you're speaking of.” He reminded them. “I will have your fucking tongue for even suggesting to get her married off in the first place.”
The whole council flinched at the King’s outburst. Alicent had expected it to be a tantrum but this was more than a childish tantrum. The room was elevated with tension as Aegon panted, his body quivering from the rage coursing through his veins.
Alicent took a deep breath. “It is for the best, my King. You need to win this war and the Freys are demanding a dragon which we cannot provide.”
“So you give them my sister, like some fucking piece of coin?” He snapped, turning to her. “She is the princess of house Targaryen, my sister. I will not have you subject her to the same fate as all the other women.”
Aegon dismissed the council, walking out of there. Alicent sighed, holding onto tethered pieces of hope that maybe talking to Aemond about it would be better, since Aegon did consider him his closest blood and best sword. Little did she know she would be riling up another dragon and awakening it.
The next few hours were unbearable for Aegon. He had visited your chambers but you were nowhere to be found and when he asked your maids, he was told you'd gone out to collect flowers for the vase in your room. Countless times both your brothers had told you to either tell them or command the servants to bring you flowers — still you did what you felt.
Upon your return, you found your chambers not deserted. Aegon was there, situated on your bed. Hair a mess, tunic unbuttoned revealing his pale chest. Your brother was disheveled and you couldn't recall the time you two spent together being the cause of this.
So what had happened?
Worried and upset, you dropped the basket filled with flowers by the side of your door and walked over to him. Your purple dress, a match to your purple eyes, flowing behind like the waves of the sea. You sat next to your brother, small hands reaching out to cup his face in them.
“Brother, is everything alright? You seem upset.” You inquired and when Aegon raised his head, you saw just how devasted he appeared.
Devasted and drunk.
Your eyes noticed the cup in his hand, as well as the pitcher on the floor. Something happened at the small council, that much you figured out. But what had happened, now that was for Aegon to tell you.
Though your brother only stared at you, bringing the cup to your lips. “Drink, for me.”
You were in no mood for wine but you still obliged him, parting your lips and consuming the wine. The crimson tainting your lips red as you swallowed it, gulp after gulp. Even for you that was a lot and when you were finished, Aegon refilled the empty cup.
“Drink more.” It was a command.
You frowned. “Did I do something wrong, brother? Is this your way of reprimanding me?”
He stared at you, eyes droopy and full of glimmering lust for you — unbeknownst to you. “I want us to be drunk together, like old times. Please.”
You heard the plea in his voice and nodded, softening at the disheveled state your brother was in. You parted your lips to take sips as Aegon held the cup for you. He pushed it, more and more until the wine had overwhelmed you and drops spilled over your dress, trailing down your chin.
The red had absorbed into the purple but you finished your glass, staring at Aegon after the glass had been tore from your lips.
Aegon moved further into your soft bed, veiled by pellucid pale curtain and you followed, laying next to him. His head found comfort on your chest, a frown so evidently ceasing his features. Confusion had clouded your senses — hoping that your brother might tell you the cause of his distress.
But all he did was lay silently on your chest, feeling the soft plush of your breasts against his cheek.
Aegon swallowed the urge to press his mouth over your pebbles and suck them, burying his face deeper into your breasts. He was a mess and he knew that his mother would go against him, to secure more power and alliances with the other lords.
He could not let it happen.
He mouthed lazily at the chiffon, attempting to take a nipple of yours into his mouth. The purple fabric absorbed the saturation of his saliva, as your brother crossed all the limits between the two of you.
As if there were any to begin with.
“A-Aegon, what are you doing?” You whispered in a breathy gasp when he sucked on your peaked nipple through the cotton, his other hand moving to provide your other breast with attention.
Your back arched slightly and your breath quickened as your brother’s hands moved down to the laces which held your dress together. As drunk as you were, you still knew this was wrong yet had no control whatsoever of the situation. Once your laces were loosened enough, Aegon tugged at the sleeve of your dress and unveiled your breast.
“Brother, this is inappropriate. You're under the influence of wine, we should not—”
Aegon looked up at you with the softest look on his face, akin to a puppy. He switched his attention to the unattended breast of yours which he had uncovered, suckling on the nipple, fingers rolling the soaked one in between them. Your soft lips were parted and made the prettiest little sounds of pleasure foreign to you.
“I'm your brother, sister. If I don't deserve to have you like this when who does? Those fucking house frey suitors?” He snapped, voice fallen to a few octaves. Your breath hitched in your throat at his words, not being able to understand what he was insinuating with his words.
Your brows scrunched and your crinkles formed on your nose. “H-House frey, Aegon?”
He chose silence.
Aegon moved to lean up against the bed, his unbuttoned tunic revealing his bare chest beneath his small clothes. You watched him, your silver hair a mess — cascading beautifully down your shoulders and narrow back. Aegon patted his lap, a silent order for you to sit on it but you could only blink innocently.
Having no regards of such matters.
“Crawl to me, sister.”
You nodded, as puzzled as you were, slithering to settle yourself over your brother's lap. Both hands on his chest as your thighs sat over each side of his waist, looking down at him. This was all new to you but you were not complaining.
His hand extended to grasp your chin, pulling your face closer to him. He could see everything, all the subtle features which made you all the more beautiful. The mole neath your left eye, the way your pupils enlarged whenever you locked eyes with him, how your pretty lips quivered. “Today I will teach you how to make your brothers the happiest. You wish to learn, don't you sister?”
You eagerly nodded.
Aegon grinned. “Kiss me, my little dove.”
You obliged, pressing a kiss to his cheek and Aegon released a chuckle. In complete awe of the naivety you possessed. “Here, sister. This will make me and Aemond the happiest.”
You were hesitant with it but still leaned your head, pressing a subtle, feather light kiss to Aegon’s lips. His hunger was far from satiated as he stared at you with a hooded gaze, his blood heating up at the feel of your lips against his. He was over the moon with only a peck, he could only imagine the power of a proper liplock.
“Did I do good? Was that okay, brother?”
Aegon shook his head. “No, little dove. You have to do more, kiss more of my lips. Try to suck on them, yeah?”
You puffed out your cheeks, irritated at your own incompetence at making your brother happy. Still, you kissed him once more but this time like a baby bird trying to eat it's food with untrained beaks, you tried to suck on Aegon’s lips. Closing them around his upper lip, your saliva glossing his lips. Aegon’s cock stirred awake in his breeches at how inexperienced you truly were. An innocent girl getting ruined by her brother.
You closed your eyes, focusing at the task at hand. Aegon reached for your nape, locking it in place as he finally kissed you back. Soft kiss of yours evolved into something harsher, something more passionate and you whimpered, your endeavor to retreat declined by your brother. Your small hands nestled over his chest — trying to push him but it only strengthened the kiss, Aegon trying to drown in the sweet nectar.
“Open your mouth, little dove.” Your endeavor to speak was mistaken as consent by your brother, his tongue running over the edge of your perfect teeth — making way to your tongue. He wrapped around the wet muscle and began to suck on it, the saliva dripping from your mouth and slipping into his. Light headed you had become due to the vigorous kiss and how your brother dominated your mouth with his tongue.
Aegon soon broke the kiss and allowed you a few moments of air, staring at how swollen your lips had become. He had tasted you and it only fuelled his desire more for you. To claim you and never let anyone else's sight fall upon you. Heart fluttering at being the first man ever to put his cock inside you.
“This is what good sisters do for their brothers.” He said to you, his hands rested on your thighs and thumbs swiping across the pale skin. “You're such a good girl, my Princess. You'd do anything for your King, won't you?”
You nodded your head impatiently, doe eyes looking into your brother's purple ones. Chest falling and rising, sharp intakes of breath breaking through the silence. Aegon smiled and that was the biggest achievement for you, ever. He lifted one hand from your thigh, taking your small hand into his. Aegon loved how your petite hand disappeared into his — a perfect size you were for him.
He wondered in that very moment how you'd look taking Aemond’s cock into your small mouth, considering he was bigger than the both of you. Taller, toned from the constant training of wielding a sword. The thought of both of them taking you at once riled him up like nothing else.
Aegon brought your hand to his crotch, laying it over it. Your coy eyes widened. “B-Brother.”
“Unlace my trousers, sister.” Albeit it was an order, his tone was soft. You had never seen such a dark look in your sweet brother's eyes, violets always glimmering with excitement and happiness.
You were hesitant at first, reluctance dripping from the way your shivering fingers pulled at the soft laces which tightened his trousers. Aegon watched with a curious gaze, knowing very well he was about to defile his little sister and ruin the innocence she so wholeheartedly showcased. It almost made him sad but this was necessary, to wed you to him. Or even Aemond.
He couldn't care less who you married as long as it was one of them.
With bated breath, you loosened his trousers and then looked at him for further instructions.
“Pull out my cock, sister. You should feel something hard, that is my cock.” Your silver lashes fluttered, fingers getting to work. The second you felt something hard, skin but rigid — you grasped it to free it. Aegon hissed upon your cold touch and you retreated, feeling bad.
He was quick to reach for you. “No, no. Do not worry, for I am fine. You shall continue.”
So you did, given the reassurance, your gaze focusing on the unclothed cock of your sweet brother. Aegon reached for your hand and wrapped it around his own cock with your neath it. “I need you to move your hand, sister. Pursue my actions, this will truly please me.”
Aegon began to move his hand in slow, sensual strokes and you followed. The more you touched him, the more he lost his composure. Little sounds falling from his parted lips and his hand fell to the side over his thigh — letting you take the lead. You picked up your pace, hand undulating over his throbbing length.
Palm stained with his precum, you used it to slick his twitching cock and then moved your fingers up. A shuddered gasp of fulfillment slipping from Aegon’s mouth upon that accident. You smiled, in victory and pressed the pad of your thumb deeper into his little hole. Watching as more of the pale liquid spurted out.
The more you stared at it, the prettier you found it — shade darker than the rest of him and cock head the same pink as his agape lips. Varicose veins, a deeper hue of purple than the ones of your irises embedded in neath the flesh.
Eyes sparkling at the thought of touching Aemond in the same way, getting to see such an intimate part of him. You wished he was here, to be able to do this for him would be a great blessing.
Your mouth watered the more you gazed at your brother's glistening cock head. Without paying much mind to it, you leaned lower and closed your lips around it. Aegon’s eyes immediately snapped open when he felt the warmth your mouth provided and stared down at you.
“Oh, Gods.” He groaned, almost a whine. “Who taught you this, my sister? Have you engaged in such acts before?”
You quickly backed away, shaking your head with a guilt ridden face. “No, Aegon. I am so very sorry if this was something I was not supposed to do. I promise I have never done this before, I promise. I swea—”
“Hey,” Aegon whispered, caressing your face with his large hand. “I believe you. You see I do not wish for you to get involved like this with someone else. It is only right if you do it with me, and Aemond.”
You nodded your head understandingly. “I would love for you to continue, my little dove but right now I need something more. Could you give it to me, my sweet girl?”
“Yes, brother. Anything my King wants.” You smiled, lips shimmering with his residual and Aegon’s cock twitched.
He pulled you on his lap once more, hands on your waist. Then the pair dropped lower to your bare thighs and Aegon bunched up your dress, revealing your unclothed, bare pink cunt. You were never too fond of wearing small clothes under your dresses — summer of Westeros unbearable for a delicate thing like you.
He licked his lips deliciously.
“Just as you touched me, I have the full right to touch you too. You understand?” You nodded like an obedient student, stomach churning in anticipation for your brother's next move.
Aegon pulled you closer rather harshly by your thighs and your shoulders went slumped, feeling his head brush against your pearl. Your eyes widening at the electrifying contact. “I need to do this in order to make my cock fit inside you, so be a good girl and let me, okay?”
“Yes, brother.” You whispered, stomach fluttering in anticipation.
Aegon’s fingers moved to your cunt, running in the center of your soaked folds. He found it amusing how you had no idea of the pleasures taken between a man and a woman yet your body had reacted like this, cunt drenched and wet. He knew your maidenhead was still intact, after all he rarely ever let you be in the presence of someone else.
If Aegon was occupied, it would be Aemond who would linger around you like a new born shadow.
They knew how innocent you were, how fucking naive and monsters lurked in the red keep. You needed their protection more than the people of the realm. Careless they were about the iron throne, Aegon wished to fuck you on it before properly ascending it.
“Oh.” Your eyes slightly rolled back at the way your brother caressed your folds, pinching your pink pearl. “You've got such a beautiful cunt, my sister. I am sure you will put it to good use to make your brothers happy, won't you, little dove?”
Eager you were to please them.
They had brought you everything, anything your heart had ever desired. Allowed you to ride their dragons with them, brought you the most beautiful gifts from the north and drowned you in lannister gold. Both brothers even went as far as getting you jewelry from Dorne since Aemond caught you complimenting a dornish necklace.
Aemon’s thumb prodded at your bud, swirling it around, watching how your face contorted in pleasure. Lids fluttering shut and head thrown back, fingernails digging into your brother's chest. You were a fucking sight, all disheveled. With his other hand, he entered a finger into you and your pleasure-clad face evolved into one of pain.
“Ow,” you complained at the sting of being stretched out. “Aegon, that hurts.”
“I know, my Princess but you mustn't rush. I will bring you pleasure soon, it is a promise.”
You believed him, waiting out the sting as Aegon fully sunk his finger into you. Driving it in and out of you, all the while rubbing your swollen attention seeking bud. Your expressions were the prettiest, the most breathtaking and he questioned himself why did he not do this earlier?
Just what was stopping him back?
He was the fucking King, goddamnit. He could have you whenever he wanted and you would give yourself up to him, everytime. Just like right now how you were serving yourself up to him on a silver platter like those animals during feasts.
“Brother, oh my god. This feels weird, I feel weird.” You whimpered, hips moving on their own accord over your brother's fingers and Aegon licked his lips, furthermore sinking his canines into his lower lip.
Aegon added another without warning and you whined out, a loud one which made him reach over and press his palm over your lips, sealing them shut. “As much as I absolutely adore your sounds, we should not let anyone find out.”
You nodded, and Aegon removed his hand, letting you breathe. You decided to keep it blow but everytime Aegon would move his finger inside you and you would feel it run at your gummy unclaimed walls, little whimpers would escape you. Feeling his fingers curve up and rotate, hitting into a spongy spot of which’s existence you too were unaware of, you cried out.
Aegon smiled.
That was enough preparing.
Aegon pulled out and you gasped when he brought his lips to his mouth, sucking on your sweet arousal.
He wanted to take you on your back but that was how he took his whores. He would never let them sit on top of his thighs and look at him like this — all dolled up yet disheveled. You were his sister, the apple of his fucking eye and Aegon was not going to take you like some whores.
They existed to keep his sick desires for you at bay, but he knew after this, he would not be needing them anymore.
“This is going to hurt, sister but worry not, I assure you I am right here. It shall feel better soon, just like with my fingers.” His comforting words and soft tone helped with your trepidation — allowing your brother to raise your hips and align his cock with your drenched hole.
Aegon allowed you to sink down on him and when his head breached your entrance, a sting worse than before spread like a virus, consuming your whole being. Your eyes welled up with tears and your lips quivered, a brusque tremor awakening in your petite hands. He was quick to come to your rescue, holding both your hands and leading the pair to his nape, making you latch onto him for support.
“Here, hold me. As tight as you can, my little dove and carefully slide down. Be careful and gentle, alright? No rush here.” He continuously comforted, guiding you and you nodded, inhaling a deep and brief breath.
Then you sunk more, his girth expanding your hole. Little movement and reassuring words from your brother helped you take the entirety of his cock and when your ass finally met his thighs, Aegon groaned. You felt his cock twitch inside you and your hold around his nape tightened. The pain was throbbing and hot — consuming your whole being but the fact you were so full with your brother's cock, contempt, you let out a drunk giggle.
Short on breath but still, you smiled at Aegon.
While you two descended deeper into forbidden pleasures, Aemond had gotten free time to come see you.
After intense sword training and back and forth of sharing strategies of the war with Ser Criston Cole, Aemond had found his feet switching route — bringing you to the hallway where your chambers were located. As he walked, with each step, he felt extreme excitement build up in his stomach. Finally having enough time to spare you a visit and get drunk, bask in your presence.
He hoped that Aegon would not be there as he wanted you all to himself, especially for tonight.
Upon opening the door to your chambers, the view before him left him astonished and there were rarely many things that left Aemond Targaryen astonished. He was quick to close the doors, not wishing for anyone to come across the Princess’ bed chambers and witness such sin.
His hands formed into fists — how you sat on top of Aegon, hips oscillating in a sensual manner. Too sensual for someone as innocent as you and he knew Aegon had managed to ruin and defile the only pure thing about house Targaryen. Yet fucking again. You two were so indulged and far gone in your pleasures that Aemond’s presence was barely noticed.
But then Aegon caught his brother's tall figure by the door.
“Oh brother, welcome.” He called out, although it was more of a moan and you turned to look at Aemond.
Your cunt tightened at Aegon when gaze laid over your brother, the one you missed the most since he barely had time to spare. Aegon let out a hoarse chuckle, shaking his head at his brother. “You will not fucking believe it but our sister's cunt became more tight upon seeing you.”
Aemond’s teeth gritted. “Mittys, that is our sister.” (Fool)
“Do not pretend as if you have not wished to do this more than I have.” He voiced it out, hand pressing into your waist. You whimpered as Aegon made you move on his cock and by now the pain had subsided, pleasure coming in to take control. You began to roll your hips over his thighs, eyes locked with Aemond.
You needed him too, your eyes screamed for him to come closer and as if you had telepathically communicated, Aemond sauntered towards the bed.
You whined when Aegon pushed his hips up, breaching furthermore of your cunt. “Aemond.”
Aegon was inside you but you were moaning for Aemond and the older brother did not even find it upsetting. Rather his cock hardened even more — if possible, hearing you whine and ache for your younger brother with such need. He did not mind sharing you with Aemond, as long as he could have his fill of you too.
“A-Aegon said I could make you both happier like this. I want to, I love you. You're my brothers.” You expressed your profound love for them, nodding your head as Aemond slipped of his leather gloves. He tossed them aside and reached for your hair, taking a strand and curling it around his finger. His nose catching a whiff of the perfumes and oils you were basking in, yet the natural scent of roses was enough to drive him fucking crazy.
He leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to your bare shoulder. Eye following the stretch mark trailing down to your breasts and the stretched flesh made him realize that you had grown. You were not a little girl anymore but you were still their little sister. Your rosy nipples were peaked — demanding attention and Aemond hissed.
His own cock bulging against his leather slacks and Aegon saw it.
Aegon moved inside you, thrusting up and you lost composure. Lips breaking apart to let out the most feminine sounds, silver strands glued on a perspired forehead as Aemond watched you bounce on his brother's cock with vigor. Your fingernails had dug into Aegon’s nape and tears sat beautifully like pearls in your waterline.
It was evident that you were sensitive, nothing like the common whores.
“Does she not look fucking beautiful, bouncing on her big brother's cock like that?”
Aemond wanted to punch Aegon but he was not wrong. You did look celestial, out of this world with how you bounced up and down on his cock, trying to desperately please him.
Aegon rolled his eyes at Aemond. “Are you only going to just watch? I have taught her things, with her hand and mouth. Be a dear and show him, sister.”
Like a trained puppy, you were quick to oblige, hands extended to work gracefully over Aemond’s leather slacks. You undid them, pulling at the leather and he watched how eager and desperate you were. Hands moving with a significant tremor.
“Aemond,” he raised his eye from your hands to your face. “may I please have you in my mouth?”
If the offer had crawled to him on its fucking fours with the most precious doe eyes, who was he to deny? He, too was a man at the end and had perpetually craved you the same as Aegon. Only he was subtle with his desires.
“Yes, my sweet sister.” Aemond whispered, staring at you. His consent made you flourish like the moonlight, bright and glowing right in his face.
Aegon decided it would be better to switch positions and he pulled out, bringing you on all your fours and giving space to Aemond against the bed headboard. He shifted, sprawled out before you, leather slacks and small clothes long gone. In the process, Aegon had stripped himself bare too but the brothers wanted you to not remove the dress.
Just how easily they had access to you despite the dress, it enticed them.
With Aemond’s cock in your hand, you came to a conclusion that his was the prettiest. It was longer than Aegon’s but had almost the same girth. Protruding veins embedded inside the pale skin, his balls hot and throbbing with an ache. You looked up at him and smiled and all Aemond could do was return it and fucking melt.
“Aemond, remove your eye patch. I want to see you whole.” You voiced out your desires and he reached for the eye patch, sliding it off and tossing it aside. The sapphire sparkled like crazy in his eye and you had always found it to be the most coolest and breathtaking thing about Aemond.
Having less of a part than the others did not make him less human too.
Though he appeared more like a god. The fire from the fireplace casting a soft golden glow over both brothers, leaving them heated with pent up desires.
Aegon had already pummeled his cock back into you, not after witnessing the blood staining his length. Testament of your chasity staining him fully and his wanton for you only grew more. You pressed a little kiss to Aemond’s tip — watching him with your deer like purple eyes and he hissed, hand moving to interview with your silver strands.
Eventually you wrapped your lips around his head, slowly taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth while using your hand to stroke the rest which failed to fit. All while Aegon drove himself deeper inside your sweet, innocent cunt, drawing pathetic little whines out of you.
Aemond groaned, fingers tightening around your roots when the vibrations from your moans sent waves of electricity straight into his loins. You choked when he breached your throat, sputtering around him. Drool and cum glistening around your mouth. Your younger brother sighed pleasure, primary focus of his one eye.
“Messy little girl,” he taunted, the fluids dripping from your chin.
Aegon nestled his cock over and over into your sweet spot, urging you to reach your peak and unravel. “L-Look at her. So fucking obedient and pliant. I want to watch her stomach swell up with my babe. That way mother won't try to marry her off to someone else, some fucking riverrun lord.”
Aemond’s attention snapped to his brother's words, and Aegon only nodded. Letting him know that they were close to losing their sister but not anymore. The sweet dove was tainted, used and claimed. Even if their mother tried to marry her off, she was already tainted by her brothers and no lord would want her. That pleased both Aemond and Aegon.
“Gods, what a blessing you are.” Aemond praised you, highly, palm pressing deeper on your head, encouraging you to take him deeper and you did. His head sliding into the confines of your tight, wet throat. “Perfect little girl, a cocksleeve.”
With each thrust from Aegon, your body moved forward against Aemond’s. A sweaty mess of pleasure and bodied you three were but that did not matter. Aegon felt his peak near, tethering onto it and soon he finished inside you after delivering harsh, potent stutters of hips into you. Your cunt tightened, sucking him in, like a vice.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned. “Like that, little dove, take me in, all of me. Milk me fucking dry, let me breed you so you carry my silver haired children.”
Aemond didn't mind his brother having you first and defiling you, since he pretty sure had your throat first. You were theirs and that's all that mattered. Gagging sounds reverberated in the room along with strong sounds of skin slapping against skin. Your peak danced around too, and when Aemond fucked his cock harshly into your throat, you squeezed around Aegon’s cock and came all over. Tears splurging out, making a mess on your face.
Your whole body twitching from the intense climax. Thighs shaking and sensitivity heightened. Followed by your release, Aemond pursued. Release spurts of white into your mouth, spending fully inside you. Yet he did not unhand you, holding your head in place to fuck his hot load into your mouth.
Once he was done, he pulled out and grasped your chin, peeking inside. “Swallow it whole, Princess.”
And you did. Gulping down the remnants of his spend.
Your head, tired from being in one position, laid right on Aemond’s bare thigh. Aegon was still inside you and when he pulled out, he saw your gaping hole spurt out his white residual. Parts that failed to reach your womb but it did not matter. He would breed you over and over again until you were to end up with his child.
Or Aemond’s.
As long as it was a silver haired babe.
“A-Are you happy now?” You asked, a question for both of your brothers and Aemond nodded his head, running his slim fingers in your hair.
Aegon crawled upto you, laying next to Aemond. A subtle smile playing at his lips, eyes hooded and body weary from all the hard work. “Very happy, little dove. We could not have asked for a better sister.”
Your pale flushed skin reddened as Aemond moved you, bringing you closer to his chest and wrapping his arms around you. Aegon admired the two of you, pleased with the fucked up dynamics of his family. This was a pleasure he could not have found or ever would find in the bed of a whore. You were the apple of their eye and they could not let you go, even if it meant restoring to such methods.
Your hands cupped your younger brother's face, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips.
Aemond had expected it to be a gentle peck but it grew needy and hasty, exactly how Aegon had taught you. Your lips suckling on his like a babe, trying to pry his mouth open and meet your tongue with his. You seemed addicted, desperate to kiss your younger brother the same way you had kissed your older. The kiss grew heated as Aemond opened his lips, finally taking control and dominating your mouth.
You whimpered, and Aemond could taste the residual of his orgasm. It did not phase him as he continued relishing in the sweet kiss, feeling your cunt beginning to rut against his already hardening cock.
When you broke the kiss, Aemond admired you before shifting his attention to Aegon who had a nasty grin on his face. “You're responsible for this.”
“Proudly. Only had to teach her once and look at how she's already sucking on your lips like it's a fucking cock.” He cheered, reaching over to pinch your cheeks. You giggled and hugged your younger brother, resting your head in the crook of his neck.
The three of you did not leave your chambers that night while the whole of red keep searched endlessly for the sword, the King and the maiden.
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fioiswriting ¡ 8 months ago
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Summary : Marrying your bastard nephew to mend fences between your families wasn't exactly what you had planned. But when you realise that Jace has grown into a strong and handsome man, you might be ready to rethink your plans.
Rating : Explicit, 18+ MDNI
Pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x Aunt!Reader (Reader is Alicent and Visery’s daughter. She’s one year younger than Aegon)
TW : p in v sex, mommy kink, sub!Jace (kinda), Dom!Reader (but they both switch tbh), inappropriate use of the word muùa, oral (f receiving), afab reader, incest, unprotected sex, not proofread
Words count : 8064
AN : hi everyone!! I’ve been very busy lately so I haven't had time to update BUT I’ve been working a bit on various fics. Sorry to all my Aemond girlies but today it’s time for some Jace x reader. It’s a fic I’ve written for my gf who’s turning into a Jace girlie 🤭 It's full of indecency and inappropriate things.
Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !! 
Enjoy 🖤
The gardens had become your refuge over the past few days. Under the shade of the trees, on the soft grass, you had found a peaceful haven away from the excitement caused by the arrival of your half-sister and her herd of bastards. The Red Keep made you feel suffocated. And seeing your mother pacing back and forth, running left and right, didn't help. You had to calm her down. You had to keep an eye on your older brother, making sure he didn't slip away into the maze of Flea Bottom for the umpteenth time. You had to hold your family together, and you were tired. 
You almost envied Daeron, in Old Town, away from the hustle and bustle of the court.
At least no one would think of looking for you where you were now. And you could enjoy a moment's respite, poring over the thick book you had borrowed from Aemond's library. Had he known that you had entered his room without warning, had he known that you had dared to disturb the perfect tidiness of his precious bookshelves, he would probably have threatened to feed you to Vhagar. But what he didn't know couldn't hurt him. Besides, you could perhaps find a way to pay him back later. 
For now, you just needed to be left alone.
You stretched out, arms reaching for the sky. The sun's rays crept through the leaves, their warmth leaving a pleasant sensation on your face. Summer was back and you were delighted. The gentle breeze that ruffled the corners of your book and occasionally lifted the silver curls around your face gave you a sense of freedom. You deftly kicked off your shoes and lay back for a moment, your eyes closed.
Footsteps echoed on the cobbled floor, and you sighed in annoyance. You didn't have to open your eyes to see who it was. You recognised his footsteps. So, you kept your eyes closed. With any luck, he would continue his way and leave you alone to find someone else to annoy.
"Hey, my favourite little sister," Aegon exclaimed as he landed heavily beside you, his body brushing against yours. You opened one eye to acknowledge him, then closed it again, your arms crossed behind your head. "Aren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on me?" he insisted when he saw you weren't answering him. "You know, make sure I don't run off or end up drunk somewhere…Stuff like that. Which our mother probably asked you to do."
A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. It was true that Aegon was terribly annoying. But of all your siblings, Aegon was still your favourite.
You resigned yourself to rolling onto your stomach, your chin resting on your hands and your head tilted sideways to face him.  "My dear brother," you replied sarcastically. "Unable to occupy yourself, as usual."  He rolled his eyes before reaching out to remove a leaf that had gotten caught in your hair. He subtly ran his fingers through one of your curls, his touch as light as a feather. "And why have you decided to come and disturb my moment of peace, tell me?"
He blew the leaf away and you watched as it flew away on the breeze. Your big brother's eyes shone with mischief. "Why would I need a specific reason to spend time with my favourite sister?" he added, and it was your turn to roll your eyes. He moved to lie next to you, his body practically pressed against yours. 
If you moved a few centimetres, your elbows would touch his. 
You'd always been inseparable, and the habit had stuck over time, even when the teenage years had driven you apart. But in those moments, you were like two children again, ready to run away from Septa lessons to get into mischief in the castle.
“Because you always have a reason for everything,” you replied, and he looked at you with a fake hurt look that was greatly exaggerated. With Aegon it was easy. It had always been easy.  He wasn't as serious as Aemond, he wasn't as strange as Helena, and he wasn't as far away as Daeron.
"I just wanted to make sure my little sister was all ready to meet her betrothed tonight." He paused. "And also, that she hadn't suddenly decided to become a pious woman and follow the path of the Seven." His voice lowered. You poked him in the ribs. "See? I'm a caring big brother. I care about you."
"Shut up, Aegon," you replied. He laughed. Then he rolled onto his back, arms crossed behind his head, one leg bent, and he closed his eyes. The golden rays caught in his long lashes made him look like an angel. 
Everything he wasn't. 
'Well?' He added. “Excited to see Jacaerys Strong?”
You sat cross-legged. The bracelets on your wrists clinkled. Aegon knew how much the idea horrified you. You had no desire to marry Jace, to sacrifice your freedom for your half-sister's bastard eldest son. You had no desire to leave the Red Keep, to follow him to Dragonstone and spend your life bearing him children. It was your mother and Rhaenyra's idea, of course.
The union of the eldest daughter of one and the eldest son of the other, as a way of repairing the rift that has grown between your families over time. 
As if you were destined to mend fences, to undo the mistakes of your own parents.
It wasn't that you hated Jace. But he was your older sister's son, a bastard who had pretensions he shouldn't have precisely because he was a bastard. He was the model son, the perfect son, the prodigy son, the one who always did everything right. It irritated you. He irritated you with his brown curls and his awkward posture.
 It wasn't fair that your father showered him with praise when he could barely remember your own name.
You stood up, smoothing the folds of your red dress to make yourself more presentable, and you caught your brother's eyes on your body, his eyes riveted on the thin fabric that revealed your delicate shapes. God, you loved to play with that. You knew how to get men wrapped around your finger with your sweet, innocent air, and Aegon was the first victim. You approached him and held out your arm to help him up, which he accepted by pulling himself to his feet heavily. After putting your shoes back on, you bent down to pick up the thick book in your arms. If you lost it, you could be sure that Aemond would be angry with you. And that was a risk you didn't want to take.
 "Perhaps you're right, lēkia. I'd better go and make myself more presentable for my betrothed. I wouldn't wish to disgrace our family." And with that you turned back, your hair swirling in the air behind you as Aegon watched you go with a small smile on his face. 
You knew how much Aegon hated being ignored, and even more so when it came from his little sister. You knew that he would return with his tail between his legs and a pleading look on his face. Between his constant whining and his dirty jokes, he gave you little respite, but it was a game that had developed between you; a game that, deep down, you enjoyed.
He was so predictable. 
“If I had known you liked strong men, I would have dyed my hair,” you heard him shout from behind you. Aegon wasn't the least bit shy. You shook your head, your silver locks bouncing.
"Get lost, you moron," you replied without even turning around.
The meal in honour of your betrothal promised to be exciting.
*** 
As soon as he saw you, your nephew rose to pull the chair beside him in a gallant gesture, and you found yourself watching him. Really watching him. His long, broad fingers on the back of the chair. His dark locks falling around his face. His precise features; his straight nose and deep eyes and square jaw. You hadn't realised how much your nephew had changed. He'd grown up too, and he was now a good head taller than you. 
He had become a strong man, indeed.
But you refused to admit that Jacaerys Strong had become quite pleasant to look at.
"Princess," he said, pushing the chair back for you to sit down. Fingers brushed the skin of your partly bare shoulders. The touch had lasted a fraction of a second, enough to make you wonder if it had been a figment of your imagination. 
"Lord Strong," you replied in greeting. If the words hurt him, Jace didn't show it. Always the perfect son. What would it take to push him over the edge? To crack the shell he'd built around himself? To shatter the image of the gentleman?
To your right, Aegon was already seated. He was holding a glass of wine between his fingers while Aemond seemed to be lecturing him about something you couldn't understand. The exchange between you and Jace had obviously not escaped his notice, and the corner of his mouth had already curled into a smirk. You knew what it meant. 
His silence was full of implications, louder than any words. 
Your mother had lectured him before dinner, warned him to behave because that was what was expected of him, and she was counting on you to make him obey. 
But your older brother didn't say anything. He simply raised his glass in your direction, his lips forming a word that you couldn't read. You weren't sure if you were relieved or disappointed.
You looked at your nephew. He had donned a gambison in the colours of the Velaryons, and you couldn't help but smile at the irony of the situation. 
After all, a bastard in blue was still a bastard.
"Enjoying King's Landing?" you asked your betrothed, in an attempt to start a conversation. His attention turned to you, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. 
“It's quite different from what I remember,” he replied, his voice a little lower than usual, his warm eyes meeting yours. “But of course it all depends on the company you are with."
You hesitated, suddenly unsure.
You hated what the sound of his voice did to you. You hated the way his eyes suddenly made you feel vulnerable. 
Fuck.
“It all depends on the company, indeed. And do you find yourself in good company tonight, nephew?" You gave him a defiant look, as if to judge his reaction. 
As if to unveil what he held within himself. 
“I'm not quite sure. Should I?” He paused, one eyebrow raised. He had taken the bait. “What would yousay?”
His eyes sparkled with something you couldn't quite put your finger on. It wasn't the malice you usually found in Aegon's eyes when he wanted to tease you. It wasn't the gleam that animated his mind when he came up with a new plan for you to cover. 
"I would say I'm in pretty strong company," you replied as you took your cup, a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of your lips that you hid behind the glass. 
You were cruel, giving him no respite, you knew. But you admired his composure. He hadn't cracked yet. 
You knew men who were less patient.
Jace leaned towards you. A slight tilt of the head, just to make sure you were the only one to hear him. As if he wanted to share a secret with you. “Careful, Aunt,” he began, his voice suddenly quieter than before. It was almost a whisper. “I might begin to think you enjoy my company.”
You know I don't, you wanted to reply, but Jace had already straightened up as if nothing had happened, his head turned away from you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Baela give him a questioning look, and an unfamiliar sensation stirred in the pit of your stomach. 
An unpleasant heat. 
A hint of irritation.
You were annoyed, and you didn't know why.
“Look how handsome your betrothed has made himself for you,” Aegon sneered as he reached for the decanter and leaned in close to your ear. “A true Velaryon, isn't he?” He huffed.
You wanted to slap him on the thigh, make him swallow his mockery. 
“If you think he's so handsome, I can happily leave him to you,” you replied, and Aegon's eyes widened. You saw him take a sip of wine, and something deep inside you told you he probably wasn't opposed to the idea. His usual mischievous smile was hidden behind the wine glass, but there was no mistaking his eyes.
Aegon had that tendency to give himself away, and you could read him like an open book.
The meal proved to be as boring as you had imagined. Small talk exchanged over fake smiles. An illusory moment in which everything seemed to be going well for one evening.
You weren't fooled, and you knew it was all a facade. You knew your family well enough to understand that the slightest spark could set things alight. You knew your brothers well enough to realise that all it would take was a simple glance between them to liven up an evening they found dull.
You just hoped they wouldn't cause too much trouble tonight.
To your left, Jace was still deep in conversation with Baela. They had that kind of complicity that made your blood boil inside; a shared laugh that sounded in your ear like the squeaky music you hated. You frowned. It was you, his betrothed. It was you, not Baela, and you didn't understand why that statement was suddenly so important. 
After all, you despised this union. You hated Jace. You had no desire to promise him the rest of your life.
Jace was a bastard, and you deserved better.
So why did the sight of him touching Baela's hand cause a twinge of jealousy in your body?
His fingers brushed over hers absently. A light touch on her knuckles. 
And all you felt was fire.
And then. Then, your fingers slipped under the wooden table. 
You knew you were playing with fire. And you knew that if anyone paid too much attention to what you were doing, they would see that you weren't exactly behaving like the perfect Princess Targaryen you were supposed to be.
But you didn't care.
You let your fingers wander, running along the outside of Jace's thigh before moving up to settle in the hollow that connected his thigh to his hip. With a faint touch, your fingertips brushed the inside of his thigh, and then lower, tracing small circles through the fabric that was already beginning to tighten. 
Jace almost choked. 
He spat out the contents of his glass, his dark gaze fixed on you. Everyone had fallen silent, their heads turned towards him. Rhaenyra's eyebrows were furrowed in concern.
And you hadn't removed your hand. 
An innocent smile lit up your face, your eyes sparkling with mischief. You wondered if Aegon could read you. If he could see that look on your face, so similar to his own. That distinctive feature you shared. 
Deciding to play with your prey a little longer, you put on your best fake concerned face, pretending to be worried about his health.
"Are you all right, Jacaerys?" you asked, your voice a little higher than usual as your nails dug into the fabric of his breeches. Not to hurt him, of course. Just enough to wake a certain part of him, just enough to remind him that you were his betrothed.
He cleared his throat and coughed again.
“I swallowed wrong,” he replied. 
Your fingers crept a little higher, trying to explore his upper thigh, where you knew your nephew would be sensitive. You didn't want to be rational tonight, you wanted to let the fire take over and consume you. 
You wanted to let the sleeping dragon within you awaken.
The taste of the forbidden was divine, and the heat spreading through your lower belly was too delicious to stop now.
"Be careful, mandianna. We're not married yet." you said.  We're not married yet and look where I've got my fingers. You kept your thoughts to yourself. "I wouldn't want to find myself a widow already," you replied in High Valyrian, amused, and Jace looked at you with his big brown eyes, somewhere between anger and excitement, embarrassment and curiosity. 
Under the table, out of sight, your hand brushed the stretched fabric where you could read the confirmation of what he was feeling, the manifestation of his desire.
He was hard.
Perfect.
It was you who provoked this. 
He responded to your touch.
You felt a familiar breath on the back of your neck and realised Aegon was leaning against you again. He was pretending to serve you some of the vegetables that had just been brought in for the starter, taking the opportunity to whisper in your ear as he did so well. "Try to be more discreet, little sister," he chuckled softly, his voice nothing more than a whisper to make sure no one heard you. Discreetly, he nodded to where your hand still rested on your nephew's thigh. He tilted his head. "Rhaenyra is right in front of us. Do you think she can see what you're doing to her son under the table?"
He put on his best disinterested face. As if the words exchanged between you were nothing more than banalities. 
As if he weren't commenting on the indecent deeds you were doing under the table, unworthy of a girl of your rank.
"Shut up, Aegon," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. You didn't want him drawing any more of your family's attention to you, especially when you hadn't finished playing.
Your big brother gave you a knowing wink, as if to promise you that your secret was safe with him.
And you decided to continue entertaining yourself with the new game you'd invented.
You were bold, and you decided that if Jace didn't already know it, he would find out soon enough.
*** 
It wasn't that Jace was disappointed with his betrothal. You were divine, and the dress you wore made you so regal that he couldn't keep his attention anywhere but on your body, on your cleavage so gracefully offered to his gaze.
It was precisely why he had turned to Baela, why he had tried to distract himself with their conversation, why he had desperately tried to find something else to hold on to.
Because you were making him lose his footing. And that was a feeling he hated.
No, Jace did not regret his betrothal. You were everything a man could want; you were beautiful, you were regal, you were clever, and above all, you were a Targaryen. A princess. The king's daughter.
The only problem was you were distant and elusive.
Jace remembered your pretensions and mockeries from his childhood. He remembered the little brat you were, following in your older brother's footsteps. He remembered a little girl with a strong temper, who knew what she wanted. He remembered the pranks, not just the ones he'd taken part in, like the Pink Dread, but the ones that had turned against him because of you and Aegon, too.
It was clear that the little girl you had once been, taller than him, with long silver curls and an air of self-assurance far too confident for her young age, had grown into a beautiful young woman. 
And that was something Jace hadn't considered.
He couldn't concentrate on his conversation with Baela, not when your fingers were digging through the linen of his breeches into the flesh of his thigh, as if to remind him to whom he had been promised.  
Your fingers, slender, light, burning against his inner thigh. 
He clenched his jaw.
All around him, the words and faces of the guests mingled in a swirl of sound and colour. Fuck.
Fuck.
His breeches were really becoming too tight.
You'd dared to do that. You'd dared to slip your fingers under the table, in front of everyone, and Jace didn't know whether to admire your audacity or wrap his fingers around your wrist and force you to take them off. 
Suddenly he felt hot, a familiar warmth spreading between his loins. 
He wasn't sure he could get up, not with his member pulsing between his thighs. 
Fuck. You weren't supposed to make him feel like this. He wasn't supposed to feel such a desire for you when you weren't officially married.
This dinner was about officially declaring your betrothal, not consummating a union not yet pronounced.
He was trying to calm down. He tried to ground himself back into reality. Perhaps by staring intently at the contents of his plate he could ignore the sensation of your fingers rising dangerously high; the desperate need to finally have your fingers wrapped around his manhood.
His knees slammed into the table in a sudden movement.
Your fingers had just brushed the bulge that had formed between his thighs. 
And he needed more, infinitely more.
You couldn't have the cruelty to arouse such lust in him and then leave him like that. He would never forgive you.
"Stop that," he growled in your direction, low enough for no one else to hear. 
But you still had that damn innocent smile, that damn audacity to act as if nothing had happened. 
"I don't know what you're talking about, mandianna." Nephew. The sound of the High Valyrian rolling off your tongue sent a wave of heat between his legs. Seven hells, you were going to be the death of him. 
He wanted more. 
He needed more. 
More of your fingers around him, more of your tongue against his length, more of that innocent look on your face as you knelt before him, more of your tight cunt.
Jace was on the verge of losing it. You'd made him a slave to his own desire. You had closed your claws around him and he knew there was no turning back now.
“If you play with fire too much, you might get burned, muña," Jace retorted, leaning towards you, and he felt the imperceptible movement of your hand twitching at the threat. Aunt.
Despite his dwindling strength, King Viserys tried to make a speech about family, betrothal, and a whole host of other undoubtedly honourable values, but neither you nor Jace paid any attention. You were caught up in your own game.
Then Jace stood up, forcing you to remove your hand. 
You could see he was uncomfortable, for you knew where to look, for you knew what you had done. 
You knew he had a painful erection between his thighs, and it was all because of you.
But you could only admire your nephew's composure. 
“To my uncles, Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. I have fond memories of our shared childhood.” His glass between his fingers, he raised it in the direction of his uncles, then turned to you. "And to my sweet and beautiful bride-to-be, who I'm sure will never cease to surprise me with her daring and surprising side. May our marriage be filled with joy and satisfaction".
The toasts continued, as did the meal. The servants had brought the rest of the dishes consisting of steaming meat and tasty garnishes. It was almost too joyous, almost too happy to be real. As if there was a threat lurking somewhere in the corner.
But Jace still had to teach you a lesson.
The music started, the sound of instruments filling the room. Jace apologised to Baela and walked over to his aunt. His other aunt. Your sister. 
And you felt the anger return; the same inner turmoil as before. 
Jace had held out his hand to Helaena and led her to dance a little further away. You immediately exchanged a questioning look with your brother, who had also stared at Jace in disbelief as he had walked away on your little sister's arm.
"So?" Aegon began. "It seems your betrothed didn't appreciate your little game?" You glared at him, but he just scoffed. "If he changes his mind... You know I like it." 
You wondered if you could do the same. You wondered if you could ask Aegon to dance and if Jace would feel the same bubbling inside him, the same jealousy coursing through his veins.
You hated that feeling. 
You shouldn't feel that kind of emotion, especially not for him.
You obviously didn't see it, too focused on your own annoyance, but Jace kept glancing in your direction, as if to make sure you saw him. 
He wanted to make you jealous. He wanted to fuel the feeling he'd identified in you. He wanted to catch you at your own game. And one thing was certain, Jace hadn't played all his cards yet.
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
After a moment that seemed an eternity, your betrothed returned to sit beside you, Helena going back to her own seat. You were less and less able to hide your annoyance, and no doubt Jace noticed, for he leaned towards you, a satisfied look on his face. "Your sister is very sweet," he murmured. He knew very well that this simple phrase would be enough to send you over the edge. 
You liked attention. You liked compliments. You liked to be praised. 
You said nothing back. But Aegon had his trademark grin, the one that stretched his lips when he had a devious plan, and he was already getting up on the pretext of serving Baela some wine so he could whisper in his nephew's ear.  "I know my little sister can be particularly demanding.” He paused. “And difficult to tame. So if you ever need any advice... Or demonstrations…"
Jace was fuming, but he knew he had to keep his cool. It was Aegon, typical Aegon, to push his buttons, to succeed in making him suddenly unsure of himself, to make his mind confused. His fingers closed around his cup, his jaw clenched, and it took all his self-control not to throw the contents in his uncle's face. 
He didn't even look at Aegon, who had returned to his seat with a triumphant smile.
But you felt something under the table. Something slipped between the folds of your dress, along your skin, discreetly, lightly, a delicious touch against your skin that made you want more.
Your eyes widened.
Jace. 
Jace the perfect son. Jace the model son. 
Jace slipping his fingers under your dress, touching the skin of your thigh, rising dangerously high where you could already feel the wetness forming in the crease between your thighs. 
This was the moment he snapped, you knew it. You hadn't heard your brother's words, you had only seen him lean towards your betrothed, but you knew he must have struck a chord with Jacaerys Velaryon. That he had probably touched his weak spot. 
Or perhaps you were just getting your comeuppance. After teasing him, after making him hard and desperate.
Jace moved his hand, tracing the space where your skin was soft and tender, all the way up your thigh, with a slow, gentle touch. His hand moved further towards the centre of you, where you were sensitive, and he brushed against your crotch. He didn't even need to apply any pressure with his fingertips to tell that you were wet.
Your hips automatically moved towards his hand in search of more contact, causing you to wiggle in your chair. All you wanted to do was grab his wrist, force him to slide his fingers under the fabric separating you, force him to touch you right here. But you were still at dinner and the game was becoming far too dangerous. 
"I told you to be careful," Jace whispered as he withdrew his fingers and resumed his serious gaze, his fingers fidgeting on the wood of the table. “Two can play at this game.”
And then perhaps the Seven heard you. Perhaps they were offering you a way out. To be honest, you weren't sure if it was a miracle or a curse. For Aemond had risen, and he had done what he did best; he had made a mocking and provocative speech to his nephews. 
Everything happened quickly. Jace and Luke leapt to their feet to answer the provocation, Aemond and Aegon were ready to fight back, and even Baela and Rhaena were prepared to defend their family. You had no time to move, no time to react, for dinner was already over, and so was your little game of cat and mouse with Jace.
This was your way out, you knew it. You were tired of sitting around a table listening to boring speeches. And the entertainment that had consisted of sliding your fingers under the table to push Jacaerys Strong over the edge had now turned against you.
"I shall rest," you warned your mother, who was deep in conversation with Rhaenyra, her features wrinkled with worry. "Tonight's events have left me somewhat tired. And I think a night's rest would do me a world of good."  She nodded, stroking your hair, and you knew instinctively what she was thinking. Always the perfect daughter.
And as you passed through the heavy door of the dining room, you hurried off in a direction that was not that of your room.
Oh, but if she knew.
*** 
Thankfully, the corridor was deserted. You didn't have the slightest desire to run into a guard who would ask you where you were going or escort you to your room for security reasons. 
Your steps were as discreet as possible on the stone floor, like those of a small mouse. You moved quickly, stealthily, almost on tiptoe.
Only the crackle of the fire broke the heavy silence between the cold walls, where the dancing shadows of the flames distorted.
You slowed your pace. You had a doubt. You weren't sure which door was the one you were looking for. 
And then suddenly, as you reached the end of the corridor, you felt a hand grab your wrist and pull you against the wall, away from prying eyes. A strong grip, as if it didn't want to let you vanish again.
Jace was holding you between the wall and his own body. Despite the darkness, you could see his eyes shining in the candlelight, fueled by a devouring hunger you didn't know he possessed. He stared at you for a moment. His eyes in yours. A tension hung between you, burning, ready to consume you both, and you were completely willing.
Gently yet firmly he turned your body. Your chest against the cold wall, your back against his warm chest, and you pulled your hips back to provoke him. You wouldn't succumb so easily, not to Jacaerys.
He pressed himself against you, moving his pelvis forward so you could feel his hard member against the top of your buttocks.
"Do you feel what you're doing to me?" Another thrust of his hips. "Can you feel the effect you're having on me?" He pressed harder against you. Through the layers of fabric between you, you could almost feel him throb. Gods, he seemed big. "Teasing me all evening... Such a tease, aren't you?"
If it wasn't the consequence of your own actions.
You stifled a moan with your arm so as not to attract any patrolling guards. What you were doing was dangerous. At any moment you could be caught. At any moment you could be in big trouble.
But you couldn't stop now. Not when the best was yet to come.
You moved again, seeking more contact, seeking to make Jace harder and more painful than he already was, and you turned your head to challenge him. "What if it's you who's just too weak?"
You felt his hoarse breath against the back of your neck, at the base of your hair. He seemed to be hesitating, thinking. About what he was going to do to you, about what he was going to do to make sure you were responsible for your actions. Again he turned you so that you had your back to the wall, facing him, and you recognised the gleam of desire in his eyes.
Towering over you, he lowered his gaze to you, your faces inches apart. For a moment he let his eyes devour you, wandering from your eyes to your lips, from your lips to your breasts, visible through the fabric of your dress. He wanted to keep this image printed behind his eyelids; your half-open lips, your pleading gaze, like that of a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
You looked ravishing.
"Tell me to stop," Jace murmured. And you knew it was the sensible thing to do, you knew it was better to stop everything now, while it was still possible to turn back. For you weren't married yet. 
But you had no desire to be responsible.
His fingers curled around a lock of your hair and tucked it behind your ear, waiting for your answer before continuing.
"What if I don't want you to stop?" you replied, your eyes locked with his. He felt your hand against his cheek as you detailed his face, tracing his well-sculpted cheeks, and he longed for more contact, his face seeking the warmth of your palm. 
You put your arms around his neck to draw him closer, to close the distance between your lips, to feel his warmth against your body.
To quench this desire, this need that was becoming uncontrollable.
And your lips met in a feverish, urgent kiss. He pressed you further against the wall, his fingers running down your sides, brushing against the breasts he so craved.
He found your hips and his fingers worked frantically up the bottom of your dress in a crumpled ball of fabric to reach your core. "Look at how wet you are." His fingers brushed your folds through your undergarments. "All of this just for teasing me." He pressed one hand against the wall, still leaning against you, but not giving you what you wanted: his hand had stopped, and you tried to wiggle your hips to force him to continue, to force him to give you what you wanted.
Deep down, you loved the way he was losing control. 
You loved that side of Jace you didn't know. 
So you grabbed his wrist, guiding his fingers under the last barrier that separated his skin from yours. 
The sensation was delicious. 
The touch of his warm fingers against your folds sent a wave of heat from your lower belly through your entire body. You didn't want him to stop. "Here." You breathed against his lips. "This is where muùa needs you." Aunt. He tensed beneath you, and you wondered if it was the ambiguity of the family tie, uttered in High Valyrian, that had such an effect on him. 
You let your lips brush against his.
He collected your wetness on his fingers, exploring the slit between your folds up to your little pearl. You were soaking wet. And you desperately needed him inside you. 
His fingers slid down to your opening where he applied a little pressure with the tip of his index finger without ever penetrating you.
"I know," he murmured, drawing small circles before abandoning your opening to return to your bud. "But I can't give you what you want now."
You whimpered under his cruelty, against his lips. 
You could see through his game. 
He wanted to make you beg, but you weren't the kind to beg. You were the one with the power and you were going to show him.
"We shouldn't stay here," you muttered, rubbing yourself against your nephew's hand. "If someone catches us..."
Jace nodded his head in agreement, withdrawing his fingers glistening with your juice, which you guided to his own lips, spreading the stickiness against his lips. 
"If you're a good boy, I'll let you taste me."
And with that, he pulled you into his room.
*** 
Lying on the bed where you'd pushed him, Jace watched as you removed your dress, his prominent erection stretching the fabric of his breeches. The dress fell to the floor, forming a red puddle that you stepped over, one foot after the other.
Your nephew couldn't look away from your hypnotic figure, but his eyes inevitably wandered back to your breasts. You'd seen him glancing at your cleavage all evening, you could tell he wanted to run his fingers over your soft flesh, his lips over your nipples, and now that you were completely naked in front of him, you could see the unmistakable desire in his eyes.
You walked up to him. He clenched his jaw when he saw you. You, and the perfection of your shape, your little pointed nipples, the tantalising path that led from your chest to the space between your thighs where he knew you were soaked for him. 
The flat of your hand pressed against his chest, forcing him to lie down between the pillows. He complied, never breaking the eye contact between the two of you, and you took your place on top of him, your legs on either side of his body. His husky breath escaped through his parted lips, lightly caressing your face.
You were naked, he was still dressed, and you had infinite power over him.
You lowered your hips against his covered crotch, the essence of your desire staining the linen of his breeches as your hips began to move slowly.
You leaned down and traced his jaw with the tip of your lips, planting kisses along his throat. Underneath you, his member twitched. Mimicking what he'd done earlier, you let your fingers rest on the painful bulge between his legs and whispered, "I know." You applied a little more pressure, drawing a moan from between his lips. "I know it's painful. But I can't give you what you want right now."
Jace growled. He wanted to turn you over, slam you against the mattress, pound into you and make you swallow your insolence. But he wanted to see how far you were willing to go. He wanted to see you keep control for a while longer.
You deftly undid his breeches to make it easier for your hand to slip through. You found his hard member, warm and heavy between your fingers.
It was a new sensation. As a model princess, you'd never ventured into this territory, saving your maidenhood for your future husband.
But Jace was your future husband.
You closed your fingers around him, your thumb collecting the sticky beads that had already formed at the tip of his cock and spreading it along his length. 
"First I want to come on your tongue," your lips articulated against the skin of his throat as the hand that was in his breeches moved up his torso to close around his jaw, your thumb caressing his lower lip to emphasise your words. "Will you let me?" you added. In response, he let the tip of his tongue slip between his lips, touching the pad of your finger. "Let me show you," he whispered.
And indeed, Jace worked devotedly between your thighs, his tongue tracing the length of your slit, drinking in your essence as it flowed from your entrance like a delicious nectar. His tongue tickled your little knob, his thumbs spreading your folds to gain access to the treasure he coveted.
One of his fingers found your hole clenching around nothing, tracing small circles against it to force you to voice what you wanted. "Do you need me here?" he whispered against your flesh, the vibration of his deep voice sending shivers through your core. Your hands buried themselves in the dark mass of his hair and you moved your hips against his face, urging him to maintain the contact of his mouth against you. "Use your words, muùa," he added, despite his nose being buried between your folds.
When you gave him the answer he was waiting for, he let a finger enter you in a delicious stretch. You held back a moan, your fingers digging deeper into his hair, not caring if you were hurting him or not. He continued to explore your cunt with his tongue, like a thirsty man, like a devoted man.
You wouldn't last long, your release close.
Jace then added a second finger. The sensation of his fingers inside you, against that rough spot, combined with that of his tongue between your folds, against your pearl, was simply divine. 
"Go on," Jace started, but you immediately cut him off. "Shut up." You didn't want him to speak. You wanted him to continue with his damn tongue, with his broad fingers inside you. You didn't want him to stop. "I am... I am close."
And your climax washed over your entire body like a wave of warmth. Your legs closed around your nephew's face.
It was probably one of the best sensations you'd ever experienced.
Still between your legs, his fingers gripping your thighs, Jace collected your arousal on his tongue, sending shivers of overstimulation down your spine, and your whole body shuddering in a brutal spasm. You straightened up, knees still bent, your hand returning to your nephew's hair to guide him over you, his face close to yours. You stroked his cheek gently, as if to let him know he was a good boy, and your thumb picked up the sticky fluid that was smeared all over the bottom of his face.
You were both out of breath. You from the intense release you'd felt, he from the dedication he'd shown.
A smirk formed at the corner of your lips, and you pressed your thumb between his lips to ensure he didn't waste anything. Jace tilted his face close to yours. "You taste divine," he breathed, turning your cheeks red. "But now I need to be inside you."
His fingers slipped between your thighs, where your centre was pulsing, still far too sensitive from the ministrations he had given you. 
"You can give me another, can't you?" He asked, and you nodded, so sore.
After he undressed, Jace pushed on your shoulders to make you lie down, but you skilfully changed positions, taking him by surprise.
You were unwilling to give him the power he wanted, not yet.
Straddling him, you moved your hips to rub your crotch against his erect manhood, spreading your wetness along his length. Beneath you, his torso rose and fell rapidly, and the grunts he let out conveyed his need for more. So your hand sought his hard member, guiding it to your entrance without letting it penetrate you. "So?" you asked playfully. "Do you think you've been a good boy ? Do you think you deserve to be inside me?" You wanted to make him beg, and Jace could see right through you. "To be the first?" you added, lowering your voice slightly, as if you were telling him a secret.
But he wasn't sure he could hold out much longer.
So he capitulated, giving you the defeat you'd been waiting for.
"Yes." he breathed. "Please." Your victorious smile stretched your lips and you guided him further against you, pressing his erection against your opening. Fuck. He was massive.
He was about to breathe a sigh of relief, ready to feel your velvet walls tighten around him, but you blocked his hip movement. 
It wasn't enough.
"Please who?" you asked, your fingers moving back and forth around his manhood. He glared at you. You were gloating. "Please, muùa," he finally begged, and you gave him what he wanted.
You lowered your hips to let him slide into you in a long thrust that stretched you around him. He was indeedmassive, and the new sensation of having him inside you was a delicious mix of dull pain and burning pleasure. You stood still for a moment to adjust to his presence inside you, your core throbbing around him. The initial pinch gradually dissipated, replaced by a pleasant sensation that sent a wave of warmth through your body. 
And then he began to thrust in and out, pushing up to sink into you. "Fuck...fuck, you're tight," Jace growled. Your loose hair cascaded down either side of your face, tickling his cheeks, and he caught it in a messy bun to hold it behind your head. 
You could feel the same pleasure as before building up in your lower abdomen. 
Gods, you could feel him so intensely. So deeply too. Bouncing rhythmically against that particular part of you. 
You buried your head in his neck, his woody scent filling your nostrils.
It was primal. Animal, between the two of you. All that mattered was the here and now. Your body against his, the sweat beading between you, the moans filling the room.
Jace tugged at your hair, causing you to throw your head back, freeing access to your chest, and he straightened up into a sitting position, his member still deep inside you, to find your breast. He buried his face in it and your hand instinctively found the back of his head to stroke his hair. Jace's lips traced a trail of kisses down the valley between your breasts, following the curve of your flesh before closing around your nipple, which he sucked gently. One of his arms wrapped around you to hold you tight against him, his other hand resting on the breast he wasn't devouring.
You stayed like that for a while, your legs on either side of him, his mouth seeking solace in your breasts, the divine sensation of being full, with him inside you, in the softness of the night, the flames rocking your lovemaking.
One of Jace's arms finally found your back and in one swift movement he reversed position. He desperately needed more, sensing that he wouldn't last long. 
He pinned you beneath him, against the mattress, your legs immediately closing around him and the pace quickened.  His thrusts became more messy, more sloppy because of your two combined essences.  "You're mine, now" he grunted, and you shivered. His index and middle fingers wandered between your folds, caressing the spot where you were joined before moving to the pearl hidden at the top of your slit. "Am I?" you replied teasingly. You could feel him throbbing inside you. "Then be a good boy now and give muùa your seed."
That was the spark that ignited the fire. Jace quickened the rhythm of his hips, his fingers still buried between your folds, his movements erratic. With each of his thrusts, you felt his member hitting that sensitive spot against your spongy inner walls. You tensed and for the second time that evening, your release flooded your entire body.  You were followed by your nephew as Jace spilled into you, his seed painting white ropes against your womb.
He lay still inside you for a moment, his cock softening as you both caught your breath, your hands in his dark curls, his head at the nape of your neck. 
You winced as he withdrew from your still sensitive core, his now cold seed flowing between your thighs. Jace dropped down beside you, satisfied. Then you turned to him. You grabbed his wrist one last time and guided his fingers to your centre, where your folds were smeared with the remnants of your lovemaking.
"Look how much you've left inside me," you whispered into his ear, making Jace collect his own seed on his fingertips and push it back into you. "I'm going to keep it all inside me, would you like that, sweet boy?" you whispered again.
And Jace pulled you against him to kiss you, his member stirring between his thighs, against you. It was true that he'd given you the upper hand this time. But he was ready to show you what he could do. You snuggled up against his chest, tucking your head under his chin.
"Perhaps…We should bring the wedding date forward."
And he smiled.
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littlelamy ¡ 2 months ago
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fittings; drew starkey x victoria’ssecret!model!reader; mdni
the atmosphere in the fitting room was electric. a mix of bustling excitement and high stakes surrounded you as you stood in front of the mirror, admiring the intricate details of the lingerie you were trying on. it was one of the final fittings for the victoria’s secret fashion show, and you were set to take the stage in a few days. the excitement was palpable, but your thoughts were elsewhere today.
today, drew was here.
the reflection in the mirror showcased your figure, adorned in lace and delicate silks that clung perfectly to your body. the soft lighting accentuated every curve, and the sight alone made you feel powerful and confident. you adjusted the straps of the bra, feeling the softness of the fabric against your skin as you glanced toward the door.
drew stood leaning against the doorframe, his gaze locked on you with a mixture of admiration and something darker, more intense. his eyes roamed over your body, lingering on every exposed inch of skin as you shifted under his gaze. you had invited him to this fitting for a reason—his presence made you feel something extra, something exciting, and today felt like the perfect day to indulge in that energy.
“you look incredible,” drew murmured, his voice low and husky. he moved toward you, his hands sliding up your sides before resting on your hips, fingers grazing the edge of the sheer panties you wore. his touch was light, teasing, but it sent shivers down your spine. “i can’t believe you’re mine.”
a playful smile tugged at your lips as you looked up at him. “you’re going to have to behave yourself,” you teased, your voice soft but carrying a hint of mischief. “i’ve still got to practice walking the stage after this.”
drew’s grin widened as he leaned down, brushing his lips against your ear. “i don’t think i’m capable of behaving right now,” he whispered, the heat in his voice unmistakable.
your breath hitched as he kissed the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing his lips down your collarbone, each kiss slow and deliberate. you knew you should stop him, tell him to wait until after the fitting, but the way his hands explored your body, skimming the curves of your waist, made it impossible to focus on anything else. his touch was intoxicating, and every nerve in your body was alive, sensitive to his every move.
drew’s hands traveled lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your panties, pulling them down just enough to expose more of you. his fingers brushed against your core, teasing you with feather-light strokes that made your legs weak. you closed your eyes, biting your lip as a soft moan escaped you. he knew exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you melt under his touch.
“you’re so perfect,” drew breathed, his voice filled with awe as he kneeled in front of you. his eyes never left yours as he slowly dragged your panties down, leaving you completely exposed before him. “so beautiful.”
you gasped as his lips pressed against your inner thigh, slowly kissing his way up. each touch sent waves of pleasure through you, your body trembling with anticipation. drew’s hands held your hips firmly, his mouth inching closer to where you needed him most. he paused, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin, making you squirm in his grasp.
“you taste even better than you look,” drew murmured before finally diving in. his tongue flicked over your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body. you gasped, your hands gripping the edge of the fitting room table for support as he devoured you, his tongue working in slow, deliberate strokes that had you seeing stars.
he didn’t rush. drew took his time, savoring every second, his mouth moving expertly as he licked and sucked, his praises spilling from his lips between each movement.
“you’re so sweet, baby. god, i could do this all day,” he groaned, his voice muffled against your core as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. his tongue circled your clit with the perfect amount of pressure, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.
your breathing became ragged, every moan and whimper spilling from your lips growing louder. it was hard to stay quiet, especially when he was this good, but you had to remind yourself that the walls were thin and anyone could be passing by outside the fitting room. still, that sense of urgency only made the moment more thrilling, more forbidden.
you couldn’t hold back anymore as drew intensified his efforts, his tongue moving in rapid circles while his fingers slipped inside you, curling and hitting that perfect spot. the combination was enough to send you over the edge, your body shaking as the orgasm ripped through you.
you cried out his name, your grip on the table tightening as your legs trembled, barely able to support your weight. drew didn’t stop until you were completely spent, drawing every last bit of pleasure from your body before finally pulling back.
he looked up at you, his lips glistening with evidence of what he had just done, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “you taste so good, baby,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh before standing up, pulling you into his arms.
your head was spinning, your body still humming from the intensity of it all. you leaned into drew, your breathing uneven as you tried to regain your composure.
“fuck, drew,” you whispered, your voice breathless. “i’m supposed to be practicing right now.”
he chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face as he kissed you, his lips still tasting like you. “you can practice in a bit,” he murmured against your lips. “i just wanted a taste before you had to leave.”
you rolled your eyes playfully, pushing him away slightly as you stepped back to adjust the lingerie. the lace was still perfectly intact, though your legs felt a bit like jelly after what he had just done to you.
you caught your reflection in the mirror again and smoothed the fabric, still feeling drew’s eyes on you, hungry and full of desire. but you had work to do, even if you could feel the heat of his gaze burning into your skin.
“i need to go,” you said, giving him one last playful glance as you turned toward the door. but the way he looked at you, all hungry and satisfied, told you this wouldn’t be the last of his "distractions" before the show. and honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0
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casuallyanidiot ¡ 2 months ago
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The crows I've been feeding have started leaving me money as gifts lol. It's got me thinking about Yandere crow hybrid who likes to hang around your home. You feed the local birds, just tossing out seed every night, and you never really expect much to come out of it.
MDNI! Dead dove do not Eat!
Tw. Noncon, stalking, monsterfucking, yandere, size difference
Yandere crow who creeps around in the dead of night while you aren't paying attention to you balcony or yard, lest you see the looming, unnerving figure of a large man with shifting obsidian feathers and too sharp teeth. He's patient and only creeps out from beyond the treeline when the sun starts to set, the smaller birds get their fill for the most part, and you aren't able to see him.
At first he didn't care for you all that much, thinking of you as just some faceless human, but then he started to lurk around your house more and more. Maybe you thought that there were more birds coming than there actually were, because Yandere Crow noticed that you were putting out more seed than usual. You were just attentive like that.
Yandere Crow found himself lurking around your windows more often. He liked to peer in and watch you move about your little home. Your home looked so cozy, and his feathers ruffled at the thought of having such a warm, inviting nest. He felt an odd itch to add his own touches to your house. After all, this was his territory. No other corvid was going to come to this specific place unless he allowed them to, and he was feeling a bit protective of this little feeding spot. It totally wasn't because you were so tiny compared to him, or the fact that you were all alone without him there to guard your property.
Yandere Crow who starts to leave you little shiny trinkets. You think that some of the other birds brought them for you, but despite the fact that he knows you're unaware of him, he finds great pride in you laying out the shiny rocks, coins, ribbons and shells he so meticulously picked out.
Yandere Crow who starts drooling and imagining how pretty you'd be cuddled up beside him with soft downy feathers, blankets, and glittering objects surrounding you both. It was such an alluring fantasy that it almost made him forget that you were human and not just another, regular potential mate.
Yandere Crow who starts fucking his fist and cums on your windows, walls, and doorstep. He hopes that once you smell the musky scent, you'll start getting used to his presence.
Yandere Crow who can't take it anymore, and he breaks into your house one evening. He stands there in your kitchen, drinking in just how sweet and perfect you smell. His feathers rustle and brush up against doorways and walls as he follows his nose to find where you are all curled and fast asleep. He croons softly and looms over your pliant form. The talons on his feet tap impatiently on the ground, clunking against hollow wooden floors. He was shifting and shuddering in excitement. He's never been this close to you before, and now that you were here, face cradled in his claws,
You start to stir. Your eyes flutter open, and they widen in shock. He can see the terror filling out your features, and he feels his cock stiffen. Even as he clamps his hand over your cheeks and mouth to stop you from screaming, you're perfect to him. Maybe he wished you were a bit stronger instead of the cute, fragile little thing you are, but then he wouldn't be able to pin you down and hold you like this, would he?
Yandere crow who thinks you look so pretty in the moonlight. It makes you look like you're glowing as he spears you on a dick that's nearly the size of your whole torso. He purrs praises into your ears as you squeal and cry out.
"Shhh, you have to get used to it," He chides and thrusts his hips into you. Your poor, twitching entrance is stretched out past the point of what must be comfortable, and he does feel a twinge of guilt. He didn't properly court you, nor did he really prepare you to be fucked so thoroughly. He nuzzles his face into your hair in an apologetic manner. "But you're doing so good already for me. Just keep taking it."
Yandere Crow who keeps you trapped like that for hours. He likes being lounged across your bed while he holds you tightly against his chest. His favorite sight is the one of your fucked out, drooling face being smushed up on his chest. He can't help but chirp happily. He's made you cum so many times, and your hole is all sloppy and stuffed chalk full of him cum. It's so much that you can't reasonably clean it all out, and the thought fills him with a sense of satisfaction.
Yandere crow who is perfectly happy knowing that of all the birds you've cared for, he's the only one who's been able to get this special treatment from you.
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i-drop-level-one-loot ¡ 1 year ago
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*NSFW* The mating habits of Yandere! Animal-Human Monsters
Yandere!Monster men who sometimes forget that their poor darling is a human and misinterprets their actions when it comes to mating. Short drabbles about yanderes trying to seduce their darlings, but the list gets progressively darker the further down you read.
*Warning* dub-con, non-con, yandere possessiveness, dead dove
Yandere!Crow Harpy who was a little disappointed when you refused to move out of your house. You didn't understand why the feathered man seemed so infatuated with you, but after a long while of him begging you to move in with him you agreed, only on the condition that he moved into your home. It wasn't a traditional harpy relationship, but he was ecstatic regardless, deciding that if he couldn't build a nest with you he could at least win your favor as a perfect mate by decorating it. It got on your nerves sometimes, coming home from work to find shiny bits of trash and feathers tucked into every nook and cranny of your home. Eventually the two of you created a list of acceptable "treasure" to bring home, and what you considered to be actual garbage. He spent weeks "decorating" your already furnished house, before one day pulling you into the living room where he had piled every blanket and pillow you owned into a makeshift nest on the floor. His smile was insecure, desperate for your approval as he wrapped you into his large wings, holding you tightly against his warm body before sinking down into the mass of fluffy objects. You could hear his heart hammering against his chest erratically as he gently began placing kisses against your collar.
"I wanted to help build a home with you, so it wasn't yours or mine, but ours. I pray that my attempts to prove I'll keep you and our future children comfortable impressed you..."
Yandere!Merman who couldn't help but feel awestruck by your beauty, often going on long rants about how much you inspire him. It was a chance encounter while you were studying abroad, and you grew emotionally attached to the beautiful man who sang you words of praise. Although he whined whenever you had to leave the beach, the bags under his eyes became deeper as the weeks went on, chronic exhaustion taking it's toll on the merman. Whenever you tried to convince him that his sleep was important, he would only give a dopey smile, responding cryptically about how his secret project was just as important as spending time with you, and that he would have time to sleep once it was all over. One day when you arrived on the beach he was already there, shaking with excitement and impatiently trying to drag you into the ocean before you could get on your snorkeling gear. Deep where the sun barely touched, a huge intricate mural was sculpted into the ocean floor. As your eyes widened in an attempt to take in just how massive the artwork was, following each perfectly symmetrical swirl, two strong arms snaked around your waist with a tired, yet content, sigh. He blew words into your ear that you were somehow able to understand despite the water, as he sunk with you into the middle of the circular masterpiece.
"You take my breath away every time we meet, and I wanted to do the same for you. Please say that, if you could, you would lie here in my arms forever.."
Yandere!Puppy-Hybrid who was always just a ball of energy, a hyperactive sweet heart who couldn't sit still when he was awake. Most of your days together, it was easy to forget that he could even have urges, with how innocent your relationship was, kisses and cuddles but nothing more. As a species who had mating cycles, although he would never tell you out loud, he was always waiting for you to go into heat. But it was taking so long! He did such a good job being a patient boy for you, you didn't even know why he was being so whiny lately, attributing his neediness to his attention seeking personality. But eventually, he took your phone to do some research. At first he was shocked, humans didn't have mating cycles?? How did you know when it was time to make a baby? Then he came across an amazing discovery. Ovulation. It took a couple of months, holding your belly to his face and breathing deeply for a couple of minutes each day, but he finally learned the subtle changes in your scent throughout your cycle. You had no idea what was going on, thinking he was just being extra goofy lately, until he refused to let go one day, tightening his grasp as his breathing turned into heavy pants, grinding your leg in between his.
"Ah.. you can't hide it from me.. I've been waiting for this for so long... Please don't say no..."
Yandere!Humanoid Spider who always did his best to never frighten you. Even when you first met, it was with him holding his hands up and pleading for you not to run away from him in a soothing voice. Despite the lower half of the creature you met in the forest being a giant spider, the top half was such a kind and handsome man that you quickly began to trust him, soon considering him to be a good friend. He was so thoughtful, always raising his hands as a show of surrender, whether he was approaching you from afar and didn't want to startle you or if you were jokingly fighting over something silly. Even amongst humans, he was the one you trusted the most. If you had known anything about spiders though, you would have been more on guard with his overt displays of feebleness, especially after he began telling you how beautiful you were. You didn't even fight back at first when he suddenly grabbed you from, until he bit into your neck. The kind man, no, the monster you thought you knew, wasted no time sliding your pants down as he still held your backside to his chest, chuckling into your shoulder.
"Ah, my stupid little human~ Were you just pretending to be that naive because you wanted me to take you? ❤️"
Yandere!Naga who couldn't feel love in the same way that humans did. As a researcher working towards her doctorate specializing in Naga people and their many sub species, you were overjoyed to meet a small tribe of Naga men who were willing to allow you to enter their home and record their daily lives. There were so many types of Nagas loosely related to snake species still alive today, and they each had their own cultures, languages, and biology. Based on the coloration you couldn't tell what type these men were, but despite not being fluent in their language they were very kind to you. They seemed to have been in a period of mourning before you arrived, and lavished all their attention on you, babbling on in one sided conversations you could only understand a few words of here and there. One phrase they all stated was flattering only for the first few times they repeated it, but quickly became unnerving as they became more comfortable caressing your face and running their fingers through your hair. And when they pulled you into the center of a giant nest, taking turns thrusting their long tongues down your throat and running their hands over your body, trapping you in a pile of cold men staring deep into your soul with hungry eyes, you learned the species they were closest to.
"We need you... We need you..."
Yandere!Humanoid Scorpion who rescued you after a tourist attraction went arry, promising to protect you until you could be rescued. A strong, bulky man who enjoyed holding you (almost too tightly) in his arms whenever his peers came near. Everything was honestly lovely until in the black of night you were awoken by a strange chorus of sounds echoing outside the burrow the hybrids allowed you to sleep in. A blue light illuminated the large home, and as it noticed you finally woke, approached, revealing himself to be the scorpion man who rescued you, glowing with bioluminescence. Before you could ask what was happening, fear struck you like a bolt of lightening seeing a large, inhuman cock emerging from just below his human half. He lunged forward, and you threw up your hands in self defence. Your hands intertwined with his, fighting against him with all of your strength, but the harder you fought, the more excited he grew. You pushed and pulled, but he didn't loosen his hold on you. Eventually it seemed he had enough playing, and threw you effortlessly onto the bed. Tears streamed down your face at your helplessness, but this only widened his smile as he peeled the shirt off your sweaty body.
"There is no need to fear, my mate. As you can see, no one can match my strength. You and our brood shall be safe under my protection.."
Yandere!Humanoid Waterbug disgusted you, from the twitch of his antenna to the flirtatiousness of his voice. The moment you met him on the water of your lake house, there was no escape. Every time you left or returned back home he was effortlessly skating across the waters surface towards you, begging you to come closer. Although you did your best to ignore him, his loud cries for attention eventually wore you down. Maybe if you entertained him just this once he would leave you alone? You approached him calmly, but as soon as you were within reach he grasped your hands tightly, pulling you partially into the water. He spoke sickly sweet words of affection, chilling you more painfully than the cold morning lake water. You tried to turn him down politely, gently pulling at his grip. He pulled you into the water further, swiftly pushing the two of you away from the shore in one kick of his legs, his unamused gaze no longer holding the playful, flirty gleam it had before. One set of hands held yours tightly, while another pair grabbed your head shoving it without warning under the water. You struggled against his grasp, rapidly losing oxygen as you panicked, black spots filling your vision. But before you lost consciousnesses, he brought you back up, still staring into your eyes with cold fury as your lungs felt like they caught fire. He confessed his love again, but when you began sobbing he thrust you face forward into the water again with a painful smack, holding you down beneath him until stopped struggling. In the air once more, snot flowed and mixed freely with your tears as he aggressively smashed his face into yours, fishing out your tongue and biting it harshly.
"There's only one correct answer to my question, (Reader).. Be mine, or die. If I can't have you, then no one can."
Yandere!Marsupial Hybrid you never saw coming. Lost in the Australian outback, you cursed yourself and your impossibly terrible luck. Hybrids and monsters freely roaming the world were terrifying enough, but being in the land where even the greenery was planted by Satan himself? Your phone had lost it's signal about two hours ago, and your jeep died shortly after that. Trudging along by foot, you continuously felt eyes following your every step, and the fear that a giant spider or monster snake was stalking you made you cry for hours as you walked under the merciless sun. On top of the heat and new blisters forming on your soles, you had to use a restroom as well. Quickly surveying the tall bushes to make sure you weren't about to go next to one of Satan's previously mentioned bushes, you pulled down your shorts in discomfort. The feeling of eyes on you hadn't left since your vehicle randomly gave out despite being double checked before you left the city, but your bladder couldn't care at that moment. A rustle nearby ended your attempt to go before it started, pulling up your shorts so fast it hurt. A hybrid with round ears and a lung brown tail with white spots charged into you, knocking you down. His face was red and slick with tears and sweat, his eyes wide and frantic as he latched his sharp teeth into your neck with excitement. Everything was so fast, with his alternating between feverish rambling and biting into whatever part of your flesh he could reach as he tore off your clothes with a desperation you couldn't comprehend. Tears blended with your own as he kissed, licked and bit every piece of you as he fought your legs open, ignoring your screams of pain.
"You accepted me didn't you?! You knew I chose you! Ah, it hurts! Why'd you put your clothes back o-ah! I need you, I need you now!"
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lovesculprit ¡ 2 months ago
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Kinktober Day 27 - Size Difference with Sukuna Ryomen
contains: nsfw content: (mdni), fempov, pnv (unprotected), creampie, size difference, cervix fucking mention?, slight breeding kink, stomach bulge, fingering, calls you 'pet'
˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc: 2k
a/n: he's not true form here because i kinda forgot about that when i was writing, my bad.......also not proofread
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His gaze swept over you, taking in the soft curve of your body against his bed, the way the silk caught the light as it draped across your skin. There was a flicker of something dark and amused in his eyes, sending your heart into a sprint.
“You waited,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, yet somehow warm. He reached out, his hand large enough to frame your entire face as his thumb brushed your cheek, tracing a line down along your jaw and lingering at the hollow of your throat.
The weight of his touch, gentle but commanding, sent a shiver through you, your skin responding to him with a tremor you couldn’t suppress.
You felt shy under his gaze. "Always," you managed, the word coming out soft, like he'd sucked the air from your lungs. A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest; the sound rolled through you, deepening the ache pooling low in your belly.
He leaned in, his large frame hovering over yours as the bed dipped under his weight. His mouth claimed yours in a slow, possessive kiss, his lips moving against yours as if he'd waited forever for that moment. As he pulled back, his eyes were molten- as he surveyed you -reflecting the look of a man desperate for you.
His hand slipped to your waist, his fingers splayed across your hip, his thumb tracing the curve of your ribs as if every gentle stroke was a reminder of the power in his hands, the ease with which he could break you if he wanted. His fingers drifted to the edge of your silk clothing, his eyes darkening into a blur as he drank in the sight of you.
“So small,” he murmured, almost as if marvelling at the difference. “So perfect, just like this...in my hands, completely mine.” His lips curled in a faint, knowing smirk, clearly delighted by the shy look on your face at his words.
With a gentle touch, he eased you back onto the bed, his weight pressing down, warm and solid against you, enveloping you completely. He kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands exploring you with reverent intensity, like he wanted to memorise every curve, every breath you took beneath him. Each caress reminded you of just how much larger he was, his presence wrapping around you, pinning you beneath him in a way that made you feel both vulnerable and safe.
His lips brushed close to your ear, his breath warm, and his voice dropped to a low, rough murmur. “You’re so precious, so beautiful” he growled, the words thick with desire. “I could spend hours just worshipping this body of yours.”
A soft gasp escaped your lips as his mouth traced a path down your neck, his tongue hot against your skin. He gently removed the silk clothing, letting it drop off your shoulders and baring you more to his gaze. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, sending a spark through you that arched you into his touch, hungry for more.
"Look at you," he whispered, “So eager.” His mouth found your breast, his tongue circling the nipple before enclosing around it, each flick and gentle nip making you tremble beneath him, your skin alive with need as his hands roamed across your skin, his mouth hot against your breasts.
"Please," you whispered, your hands threading through his hair as you pulled him closer, desperate. "I need you."
His dark laugh rumbled through his chest, amused by your impatience. "Patience, pet."
His hand drifted lower, fingertips tracing down your stomach before he reached between your thighs, the heat of his touch sending sparks through you. You gasped as he brushed along your folds, teasing, light as a feather. "Already so wet for me," he murmured, clearly pleased as he circled your clit with his thumb. "You want me that badly, don’t you?"
His finger slipped inside you, stretching you deliciously. You gasped, arching into him as he worked you open, his finger far larger and thicker than your own. "That’s it," he whispered, his voice thick. "Let me get you ready for my cock."
As he slid a second finger inside, the stretch made you gasp, your body thrilling at his touch, the burn and pleasure mixing as he skillfully worked his fingers, curling them to press deep against your inner walls. The intensity of his touch made your toes curl, each movement bringing you closer, making you needier.
“Good girl,” he purred, watching your reaction with a possessive glint in his eyes. “Look at you, taking my fingers so well…Gonna feel so good with this pussy wrapped around my cock.”
His fingers moved faster, the pace and pressure making your body tremble under him. The intensity of his touch, the delicious ache from the stretch, drove you to the brink. His thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing slow, firm circles that left you breathless.
He eased a third finger inside, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched you grow impossibly close to that sweet release. His voice was a dark, comforting rumble. “That’s it. You’re ready for me, aren’t you?” His lips brushed over your neck, his touch possessive yet reverent, claiming you in every way.
And as he continued to move, every press and curl of his fingers prepared you for the moment he would finally take you, filling you completely, wholly, leaving no part of you untouched.
The dual sensations overwhelm you, sending you spiralling into an intense release that crashes over you like a tidal wave. Your inner muscles tighten around his fingers as pleasure ripples through your body. He doesn't relent, his fingers moving with expert precision, easing you through the waves of ecstasy until your strength fades, leaving you soft and pliant beneath him.
"That's it," he murmurs, easing his fingers out slowly, feeling your body's response as it shivers in the afterglow. "Nice and ready for me now."
His darkened gaze drinks in the sight of you, lying so open, so small against his towering frame. The anticipation in his expression holds a promise that makes your heart race, and you feel a thrill of both longing and surrender. You want him—want him to claim you so thoroughly you’ll remember every inch of his presence.
It’s not long before he settles between your thighs, his broad, powerful form enveloping yours, making you feel delicate in comparison. As he brushes the length of his cock against your wet folds, teasing you as a shiver travels up your spine. You arch instinctively toward him, feeling his low chuckle resonate through his chest.
“Look at you, all ready for me,” he murmurs, guiding himself to your entrance with teasing deliberation. “Eager little thing… practically begging for me.”
You brace yourself as he presses forward, the pressure building until, with a single, powerful thrust, he fills you completely, stretching you around his size in a way that makes you gasp, a sharp sound escaping your lips. Your body instinctively arches beneath him, accommodating his fullness, the sensation intense and exhilarating.
“Fuuuck,” he groans, stilling for a moment, savouring the way your body wraps around him. “So fucking perfect- Like you were made just for me.”
He withdraws slowly, letting the anticipation build, before burying himself back in again, setting a deep, steady rhythm that shakes your core and steals the breath from your lungs. Each movement drives him deeper, his hips pressing flush against yours as he claims you completely, your surroundings blurring as all you feel is him.
His eyes meet yours, the smirk tugging his lips upwards. "I'm going to ruin you," he mutters, low. "So deep you'll still feel me tomorrow.
He leans down and reaches for your legs, drawing them up and back until you’re practically folded in half. This new angle allows him to plunge in even deeper as the head of his cock kisses your cervix with every stroke. You can only cling for life as your fingernails dig into his shoulders when you take him inch by inch.
As he thrusts into you, you feel the unmistakable bulge of his length pressed against your lower belly.
Each downward thrust, in which he bottoms out inside you, causes the head of his cock to nudge against your cervix. "Look at that," he growls, his eyes dark with lust as he watches his shaft disappear into your body. "My cock splitting you open, stuffing this tight little cunt so full." He leans down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss as he continues to pound into you. 
The new angle makes him hit even deeper, the bulge in your belly growing more pronounced with every thrust. "Gonna fuck a baby into you," he pants against your lips, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. "Knock you up, make this belly swell with my child." He takes your hand, guiding it to the prominent bulge in your lower belly. 
"Feel that?" he growls, pressing your palm against the outline of his cock stretching you. "Feel how deep I am." He rolls his hips, grinding against you so you can feel every thick inch of him throbbing inside you. "Fuck, you're so hot like this," he pants, his thrusts growing erratic. 
"Taking my cock so deep, letting me reshape this greedy hole to fit me perfectly." He leans down, biting at your neck as he ruts into you. The pleasure builds at the base of your spine, coiling tighter with every drag of his cock against your sensitive walls. "Gonna fill this pussy up," he grunts, his fingers digging into your hips. "Paint your insides with my cum until it's dripping out of you." 
His words send you over the edge and your orgasm crashes over you. Your body spasms as wave after wave of ecstasy breaks over you. Your walls clench down on Sukuna's cock, fluttering as you gush around him, milking his cock for all its worth. 
With a final, guttural groan, he buries himself to the hilt and pulses inside you, his hot seed flooding your channel. You can feel it, the way your belly seems to swell with each jet of cum, claiming you from the inside out. His cock twitches and pulses inside you, spilling rope after rope of thick, hot cum deep into your spasming cunt.
"Fuck, take it all," he groans, his hips stuttering as he empties himself into you. Your inner walls milk him for every last drop, greedy for him. When he finally stills, his softening cock still buried inside you, you can feel the obscene amount of cum leaking out around his shaft, trickling out. 
"Look at that," he rumbles, his fingers scooping up some of the pearly fluid and bringing it to your lips. You part your lips obediently, letting him paint your tongue with his essence. 
The taste is musky and slightly salty, a tangible reminder of his claim on you. He pulls out with a wet squelch, his softening cock slipping free of your abused hole. A river of cum follows, pouring out of you to pool on the sheets beneath your ass. 
"Fuck, you're a mess," he chuckles, running his fingers through the slickness coating your thighs. "But such a pretty little mess. All marked up with my cum." He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delves into your mouth, claiming you thoroughly as he tastes himself on your tongue. 
You can't help but moan into the kiss, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. When he finally pulls back, you're both breathing heavily.
He tucks you into his side, his large hand splayed possessively over your lower belly. "Rest now, pet," he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll clean you up, just get some sleep.”
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© lovesculprit ↣ do not copy or translate any of my works
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lostfracturess ¡ 23 days ago
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Satoru Gojo leaned in, his lips capturing yours. You moaned into the kiss, your hands scrabbling under his wet shirt, desperate to touch, to feel, to possess, your fingers roaming over the defined planes of his sweat-slicked chest.
Then, you reached between your bodies, your fingers hastening to free his thick cock from the confines of his slacks. Satoru hissed through clenched teeth as your hand wrapped around his shaft.
"Fuck." His eyes slammed shut, his brow furrowing as if the sensation of your fingers on him was almost too much to bear. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple.
You stroked him slowly, almost teasingly, your thumb swirling around the swollen, sensitive head, smearing the drops of pre-cum that had gathered at his slit.
Satoru's breath came in harsh, ragged gasps, his hands fisting in your hair, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. But you barely registered the sting, too focused on his hard length throbbing in your palm.
He ground out your name, his voice strained, almost pained. "You gotta stop, if you keep doing that I'm gonna fucking lose it."
"Maybe that's the point." Your fingers tightened around his shaft, your pace increasing as you worked him from root to tip and back again.
Satoru's head fell back against the seat, a rough moan ripping from deep in his chest as his eyes rolled back in his skull. His hips bucked, his cock sliding through your tight fist as he sought more of the heady friction.
"You're such a fucking tease," he groaned, his abs flexing and jumping under your splayed palm as you brushed upwards underneath his dampened shirt, your nails lightly scraping against his heated skin.
"You think that's the tease?" Your hand slowed its pace, your fingers barely grazing his throbbing length through, teasing him with feather-light touches that had him gritting his teeth in frustration.
"Fuck, don't start something you can't finish."
"Who says I can't finish?" 
Your thumb swirled around the swollen, leaking head, gathering the bead of precum that had formed there and spreading it over the silky skin, drawing a harsh hiss from his parted lips.
Slowly, teasingly, you brought your thumb to your mouth, your tongue darting out to lick the salty-bitter cum of him from your fingertips, your eyes locked on his. 
Then, before he could react, you leaned in to capture his lips in a messy kiss, your tongue delving deep to tangle with his, making him taste himself on you, making him moan into your mouth.
Your hand returned to his cock, your fingers wrapping around his shaft and squeezing lightly, just enough to make him gasp before you began to stroke him, your hand flying over his shaft, your grip tight and perfect.
He let out a choked sound, his head falling back against the headrest, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought to keep his composure.
But just as you could feel him throbbing and pulsing in your hand, his own hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist in a grip that was almost painful, stopping your movements abruptly.
"Wait," he gasped, his breath coming in harsh pants as his chest heaved with the effort of holding back. "Fuck, I love you. I love you so goddamn much it fucking terrifies me sometimes. But right now, I really, really fucking need you to let me fuck you already, before I completely lose my goddamn mind."
You released your grip on his cock, your fingers trailing up his abs, his chest, as you leaned in close, your lips brushing against his.
"Then take me," you whispered. "Make me yours, Satoru."
And he did just that, his hands gripping your hips hard as he lifted you effortlessly, positioning you over his lap, your knees bracketing his hips. You could feel the hard, hot length of him throbbing against your core, separated only by the thin, soaked fabric of your underwear. 
He reached between your bodies, his fingers hooking into the fabric and pulling it aside. Then, he lowered you onto him, inch by inch, savoring the stretch and burn of his thick length as he filled you, completed you, made you whole in a way that nothing else ever could.
Satoru's mouth fell open on a silent scream. His head slammed back against the headrest as you took him deeper and deeper, until he was fully seated inside you, buried to the hilt. 
His chest heaved, sweat beading on his brow, his skin fevered as he fought to maintain control, to not just lose himself. His fingers dug into your hips hard enough to leave bruises, every muscle tight with the effort of keeping still, of not just fucking up into you.
But before you could even begin to move, Satoru's hands tightened on your hips, halting your movements. "Wait," he moaned out, his eyes squeezing shut, his brow furrowing as if he were in agony. "Just... just give me a second, fuck, I can't—I'm gonna—"
"What's wrong?" you asked.
He drew in a shuddering breath, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours. "Shit, I'm just... I'm not used to feeling this fucking much." His hips twitched beneath you as he fought the urge to just start pounding up into you. "It's... it's almost too fucking much."
"Satoru, we literally fucked like two weeks ago."
"Two weeks too fucking long ago," he groaned, his fingers flexing on your hips, his abs clenching and rippling under your palms. "I'd almost forgotten how fucking incredible you feel around me, so tight and wet and perfect, like you were made just for me, just for my cock."
My god, was he for real?
"Stop being such a fucking drama queen."
"Fuck you," he ground out, but there was no real heat behind the words, only desperate, aching need. "Shit, I just—I need a minute, okay, I'm so fucking close already, you feel too fucking good, I'm gonna embarrass myself if you start moving—"
Ignoring his pleas, you began to slowly circle your hips, grinding down onto him. He was so big, so thick, stretching you to your limits and beyond, filling you so completely that it felt like he was touching every part of you at once.
Satoru's teeth gritted together, moans falling from his parted lips. "Do you have any fucking idea what you do to me? How crazy you make me?"
"Yeah, yeah, less talking, more fucking," you panted, bracing your hands on his sweat-slicked chest for leverage as you began to move, rising and falling on his thick length, setting a slow pace that had you both gasping and moaning into each other's open mouths.
Satoru met your every movement, his hips surging up to meet yours, his cock hitting all the right spots deep inside you. Lost in the haze, you moved together as one, your sweat-slicked bodies sliding against each other, your breaths mingling, your hearts pounding in perfect sync. 
The world outside the fogged windows faded until there was nothing but this, nothing but him, nothing but the intoxicating slide of his thick cock splitting you open again and again and again.
You clung to the back of Satoru's seat with one hand, fingers digging into the leather. Satoru's hands on your hips, guiding your movements, urging you to take him deeper, harder, faster.
Your lips met again, all teeth and tongue, your moans and gasps and whimpers swallowed up by each other's mouths.
"Fuck, love, fuck," Satoru groaned. "I'm so close, I'm not gonna last much longer—"
You felt him pulsing and throbbing inside you, his cock swelling impossibly, stretching you even fuller. Your body trembled, your walls clenching around his length.
Satoru's hand slipped between your sweat-slicked bodies, his fingers finding your clit. He rubbed fast circles against it, drawing a choked cry from your lips. 
"Come on, come with me," he panted against your mouth. "Wanna feel you come on my cock, wanna feel you squeeze me so fucking tight—"
Just as you were about to let go, a shrill ringing filled the car, making you shutter for a second. Satoru's phone, connected to the car's Bluetooth system, lit up the dashboard with an incoming call.
"Ignore it." Satoru's fingers never ceased their madness against your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "Don't you fucking stop now—"
You tried to ignore it. Your hips grinded down onto his, chasing the release that was so close, so tantalizingly close you could almost taste it. 
With one hand still gripping your hip, Satoru fumbled for the button on the steering wheel to decline the call and shut up the damn ringing. But in his haste, his finger slipped, accidentally pressing the accept button instead, just as your orgasm crashed over you.
He quickly clamped his large hand over your mouth, muffling the loud moan that tore from your throat as you shattered in his arms, your body convulsing and shaking.
"Fuck, you're so fucking tight—I'm—shit, yes, just like that, I'm gonna—" Satoru babbled incoherently as your walls clamped down around his throbbing cock, squeezing him so tightly that he had no choice but to follow you over the edge. 
He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin, biting back his own moans as he spilled himself inside you, his hips shuddering and twitching as he pumped you full of his cum, each contraction of your core drawing another fresh load from him.
You could feel his cum flooding your depths, the feeling of him pulsing and throbbing inside you was almost too much, and for a moment you completely forgot about the caller on the other end of the line.
"Please tell me you're not doing what I think you're doing right now."
The female voice crackled through the speakers.
Fuck. You knew that voice. 
You knew it all too well.
Slowly, you felt Satoru's hot cum start to leak out of you, trickling down between your trembling thighs to stain the expensive leather seats of his car. 
He started to gently rock his hips again, lazily stuffing his own cum back into you with shallow thrusts of his still hard cock. Every time he bottomed out, squelchy, wet noises filled the otherwise silent car. You winced at the overstimulation, sinking your teeth into his palm to muffle another desperate whimper.
Shit, there was no way she hadn't heard that.
You wanted to die right then and there.
"God, Satoru, have you no shame?"
"What do you want, mother?"
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author's note — sooo, do you remember this car scene in symptoms and causes chapter 13 ? this was actually the OG smut scene that i made more angsty then in edits. but i still think it's funny so i thought i'd bring it to the light of day haha. hope you enjoyed it. if you're interested in the story, you can read it here <3
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Š lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.
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harrycinnamonbun ¡ 7 days ago
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mornings like this - lando norris
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lando norris x fem!reader
word count - 1.7k
summary - waking up with bf lando in the morning
warnings - 18+, smut, coarse language, minimal plot, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, praise if you squint, fluff
a/n - this is my first time posting my writing! requests are open so send me ideas!
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you woke up to light touches on your cheek, eyes blinking open as sunlight spilled into the room. lando was hovering over you, feathering soft kisses across your face, tracing along your cheekbone and up to your brow.
"good morning, pretty girl..." he drawled, his lips warm against your skin as he began trailing kisses down your neck.
"hi, baby," you whispered, your voice still thick with sleep, his breath tickling you.
last night, you stayed in. just you two, a pizza box, the princess bride, and the comfort of being together again after a long race weekend. it was perfect. no cameras, no noise—just you. the relationship was still new, fresh and untouched by the chaos of the media or the scrutiny of fans. for now, it was just yours.
his messy curls fell across his forehead, and your fingers itched to brush them back. god, he was beautiful. tanned skin, chocolate curls, and those hazel eyes that could melt you with just one look. and oh, how you loved his smile.
you loved it from the moment you saw him at that coffee shop in monaco, the way it lit up his face as he stole glances at you from across the room. and now, here you were, months later, tangled in each other’s arms. that smile? it was yours to wake up to every single day.
“lando stop it! I'm ticklish!” you giggle at his assault on your neck, rolling over to pin you down playfully.
“i know,” he says, voice low and teasing. “that's the point.” 
he trails tender kisses down your sternum and over your stomach. you let out an involuntary whimper at the softness of his lips as he placed them across your skin, dipping lower and lower down your stomach, stopping at the edge of your underwear. he heard the noise and looked up at you with a mischievous grin. 
“mmm, so sensitive huh?” you nod, biting down on your lip as heat pools in your lower belly, his head now between your legs. you felt faint just at the sight. he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, fiddling with the lacy edge of your panties, teasing. 
“so soft baby.” he murmurs, cheek resting against your thigh. His voice is delicate, but you know he's doing this on purpose- he knows it drives you crazy.
“lando…” you whined out, turning your head away from his piercing gaze as a blush spread over your cheeks. He knew exactly how to make your stomach flutter. 
“look at me,” he says, lifting his head just slightly. “ tell me what you need, baby.” 
you bit farther down on your lip, trying to suppress another moan as you turned your head back to look at him. that damn smile again. mischievous, teasing, infuriating. he knows how hard it is for you to find your words when he’s like this, but he waits, his lips brushing against your panties, hot breath sending shivers up your spine. 
“please lando,” you begged him to end your agony, hips writhing against his strong hold involuntarily. he chuckles, the sound low and smug, before kissing over the growing dampness at your center.
“words baby, use your words.” your hips bucked against his face, his nose nudging against your clothed clit as he tightened his grip on your thighs.
“fuck lando I need your mouth, please!” you cried out, unable to contain it anymore.
“since you asked so politely…” he hooked his fingers in your panties and dragged them down your legs in one swift motion.
it was natural the way your back arched when his mouth finally met your heat, dragging his tongue up your folds in the most tantalizing manner. he kept eye contact with you the entire time, his gaze baring into you as he eagerly lapped up your wetness. lando wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking deeply on the bundle of nerves.
“oh god lando,” you say breathlessly, “keep going.” your hands immediately tangled themselves in his hair, pulling lightly as he pushed a finger into your entrance. your eyes flutter closed, lips parting in a moan as his finger finds that spongey spot deep inside you.
“let me hear you baby,” he encourages, face covered in your juices. you gasp again as he pumps a second finger inside, fucking them into you faster. you feel the wave of your release brimming, threatening to spill over as he focuses his attention back onto your sensitive bud, flicking his tongue over it as he curls his fingers into you, hitting that spot once again. 
“lando i’m gonna-” your words are cut off by your orgasm crashing through you, your cunt spasming around his fingers as you moan out lando’s name. he continued his movements, helping you as you rode out your high.
“good girl,” he mused, pulling his fingers out and sucking them into his mouth, “taste so good baby.” you let out a breathy laugh as you recover, tracing your fingers across his cheek.
“need you inside me,” you say as lando rises to meet your lips. he kisses you fiercely, tongue slipping inside your mouth, making you taste yourself. 
he broke the kiss, chuckling at your desperation. he lowered his mouth to your ear and whispered, “is that what you want? want me to fuck you pretty girl?”
you nod with teary eyes as his hand moved to knead your breast, his thumb running over your nipple. your breath hitched as he massaged your breasts, his fiery touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. 
lando brushed up against you, his erection evident through his boxers. he was aching, just from eating you out. painfully hard against your thigh, he let out a groan as your hand wandered down to palm him over the thin material. 
“baby stop teasing me,” you slur tiredly, attempting to pull his boxers down and feel him. he smiles as he helps you, pushing them down his legs and kicking them off onto the bed.
he kisses your cheek as he hovers over you and lines his cock up at your entrance, sliding the head up and down between your slick folds. “so ready for me love, so wet…” he holds your eye contact as he pushes in slowly, your warmth inviting him in as your eyelids flutter at the pressure.
lando slides into you inch by inch until he bottoms out with a moan. his free hand rubbed the soft flesh at your waist, soothing you as your walls stretch to accommodate his size. you clench around him involuntarily, gripping his arms as he began to move his hips. his place was slow, but gentle, thrusting into you deeply. “oh god baby, you're so tight for me,” he stuttered out, unable to tear his gaze from yours. 
it was loving and comforting, your bodies moving in tandem tangled in the blankets and pillows of the bed. the morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the two of you as your moans and heavy breathing grew louder. your wetness was abundant and audible, making obscene noises as he pounded into you.
“you were just fucking made for me…” lando drawled deeply as he scrunched his eyebrows in pleasure, lowering his head to rest in the crook of your neck. he hit deeper and deeper with every thrust, your bodies slick with sweat from the motion. you wrapped your arms around his torso, holding on for dear life as you felt that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach again, alerting you to your impending release. 
“i’m almost there lando, need you to fill me up please.” you practically begged him, clawing at his muscular back as his pace quickened, determined to get you both to your highs.
 “c’mon baby let go for me,” he reached down between your legs to circle your clit, urging you closer and closer over the edge. 
“fuck–” you let out a string of curses as you reached your peak, back arching beneath him as your vision flashed white. your legs trembled from the intensity of the orgasm, your pussy fluttering from sensitivity as lando continued to plunge into you, kissing your neck as you recovered. he mumbled praises in your ear as you caressed his hair, urging him to finish as well. his cock throbbed inside you at the touch, making you whimper out his name. his strokes grew faster and deeper as he chased his own release, the vibrations making your already sensitive clit ache once again. 
his breathing grew ragged, and his hips stuttered suddenly as he threw his head back in pleasure. “i’m cumming, shit baby,” he moaned out as he released inside you, spilling hot cum all over your walls. with a soft cry, lando collapsed on top of you, unable to hold up his own weight after the force of his orgasm.
he stayed inside you for a few minutes before pulling out, whispering soft “i love yous” into your ear and kissing gently over your collarbones. you lie beneath him, your finger lazily tracing the ridges of his back, mind still fuzzy from pleasure.
the noises of the city outside were louder now, the world finally stirring awake. “what a lovely way to start the day, don’t you think?” lando laughed at your statement, rolling onto his side to pull you closer into his arms. 
“my perfect girl, this is how i want to wake up every single morning for the rest of my life.” he pressed his lips to your shoulder softly, caressing the dip of your waist. it was an innocent touch, loving and kind as all his actions were. you never wanted to leave this haven of paradise, but the tense reality of the upcoming day loomed in the air. 
lando squeezed you tightly, then shifted to get out of bed. you groaned at the loss of contact, but knew he had to start getting ready for his busy day. “i’ll start up a bath for us, we still have some time before i leave.” 
“you might need to carry me!” you exclaim as you stretched out your sore limbs, legs still quivering from the events of the morning. you hear lando let out an exasperated huff from the bathroom and giggle, his attitude evident as always. 
bliss came easily to you two, and the ability to soak up every second you had as a pair was innate. you cherished mornings like these with lando deeply, even though they were few and far between.
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