#fucking maiden v maiden

[maidencfdeath]

"Bravo. To be able to sustain such a traumatic experience, and yet find the positive in that grizzly act, it's a remarkable feat indeed. Remarkable, if not a little perverse. I am sure I speak for everyone here when I say how grateful we are to be part of your promotional DVD."

[queen-mabs-revenge]

ok but one of the joys of good omens: putting your favorite historical figure in the 'other tags to include' field on ao3 for funsies

[jin0]

Of Love, Lust and Wasted Time - Nicholas Alexander Chavez

Pairing : Prince!Nicholas Alexander Chavez X Princess!Reader

Summary : It had been a month since your wedding to Prince Nicholas. He hadn’t performed his marital duties yet. Was there a problem ? Yes. Would you communicate ? No. Would you sneak into his chambers at night in your sleeping gown ? Yes.

Warning : 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, p in v, fingering, lots of making out, titty sucking, clit sucking, pussydrunk nicholas, virgin reader, experienced nicholas, arranged marriage, cussing, slight pussy eating, slight size kink (I review the story and funnily enough, their was nothing slight about that one), slight cervix abuse, marking, talk of bedding ceremony, talk of traditional medieval marriage I guess, meant to be vanilla, don’t know if I got there.

A/N : that man’s a slut, love that. also, I promise she’s not a pick me, just really sheltered.

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The customs would have it that on the very night of a maiden’s wedding she would perform the act of consummation first in front of the highest members of the court to prove her purity and then proceed with the act for her lord husband’s eyes only.

But this wasn’t a fucking barn, and people would learn to do things with manners.

Or at least, that had been the way Prince Nicholas had put it when the councilmen had insisted upon it during the wedding preparation. Their insistence upon watching the soon to be queen being defiled could’ve been equated to regular old traditions and care for traditions. The princess herself believed it to be what it was, old men hungry to devour with their eyes and feast on the most embarrassing moment of her life.

She would curse her mother and maids for the rest of her life for not having taught her the basics on what was expected of a wife or what would go into these “nightly performance” she would have to endure. Part of her knew better though, not only because her mother would pull her by the ears until they pealed off and not only because it was unbecoming of a young girl to complain but also because she had done everything in order to not follow the regular education that highborn ladies had to follow.

Because the princess had chosen to be none other than a prince.

As overly simplified as it was, it was the clearest way to express the life she lived or life as she lived it. Less than a choice, it was simply what made sense. From the moment she could stand on her two feet she was made to run after her brothers rather than walk slowly and with poise like a lady would. She was meant to chase and scream and throw herself at the nearest danger because what was danger for the crown but the daily life of any of the people they ruled over ?

While she learned to wield the sword, mount the horse and shoot arrows, she also learned what it would entail to be a princess, one day to be married. And seeing some of the men offering themselves to become her husband, she did regularly wish a battle would kill her first. A battle, or the trouble her mouth would get her into. Of course, she had learned and knew all there was to know. All except that. Sex.

With a father like hers, with a mother like hers, she was almost certain she would never marry so why waste her time learning about sex, right ? Luckily appearing like a good omen, Nicholas did not simply see himself as worthy. The initial discussion had not even concerned a marriage proposal.

When he had arrived in the neighboring kingdom, his proposal concerned trades and the opening of a route through his seas in exchange for three troupes of their best soldiers to be sent into his realm and help the thieving crisis raging through his lands. It was true that the knights of your home were known to be the greatest there ever was, loyal and strong, one of them could equate to a fleet of ten. Of course anyone would want them.

And he had wanted her too. As soon as she had walked in, dragging his lord commander by the cloak for blocking the way to the council room.

She hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, she just wanted to make sure her father was fine and so were her brothers. The man at the door was unfamiliar and truth be told, rather rude. It was a misunderstanding and her response was unwarranted. She had apologized, the prince had laughed. Surprising response.

For the rest of the meeting, she had been allowed to stay and she would’ve focused on the information being shared and the heated debate between both councils had she not been busy staring at the man she knew to be staring holes into her. His heated gaze felt like the sun shining directly unto her, melting away her mind and the mere thought of reason. She felt herself crumbling in on herself the longer she sat there to be undressed in public.

He hadn’t intended to stare with such insistence. He had even tried to look away, attempting to return to the discussion. He had. Had it ever been so difficult to look away from a woman ? Never, not when thousands of them had vied for his attention since he had come of age. Yet here he was, victim to his passions, digging into her flesh with his eyes, trying to move on from the gust of wind which had blew his way when she had walked into the room, carrying the sweet scent of honey. He had wanted nothing more but to leap to her feet and run his nose along her soft neck to engorge himself in her sweetness.

She hadn’t known whether to curse her father or thank him for offering them to stay longer than intended, stay until they reached an agreement on the details of their agreement. He had spent the night and from afar she was almost certain she could feel the heat of his body next to hers, warmth radiating through the dinner they had shared and through the halls of the castle, from his chambers to hers.

He hadn’t spent a better night, sitting in his bed, kept awake by the thought of the divine princess sleeping only meters away, peaceful yet clawing at his mind as if a parasitic fungus taking power over his body. She awoke every molecule forming his being, all aware of one another, uncomfortably held together by nothing but a thread of desire and melting resolve. Poor prince who wished to be back home in that moment, in the privacy of his quarters, far from prying eyes and then need to keep up appearances. Poor Nicholas who wished he could stroke his hardened cock all night, relieved of the ache burning in his loins, and ruining him from the inside.

With very little sleep in his system and his mind and body banding together against his better judgement, he had not moved from the position he had been occupying for hours now, but his head had snapped towards the door when he had heard the noise outside his door, footsteps as light and almost inaudible, had he not been wired towards her from the moment he had seen her. He knew it was her, and the sound of clinking metal and rushing maids confirmed his suspicion.

That morning, he had listened as she was being prepared to go on a morning ride. Interesting she was, the girl of his dreams. She kept quiet while her maid tried to dissuade her from going, she would need to be there to greet the guests. She assured she would be there to break fast with them. He would admit it, he had rushed to his balcony to watch her leave.

It was still dark, but he knew she had seen him, and he had seen her, both locking eyes for a moment before she had left. She had promised to be at breakfast, he wanted her for breakfast, but he would content himself with what she had offered. In the meantime, he had slept lulled to sleep by her eyes staring at up at him. It was enough, all he needed.

She had needed to clear her head, but her head hadn’t been any clearer when she had returned as soon as the first rays started shining. She knew she had gone mad when while hurrying to meet with the rest of her family, she suddenly found herself very conscious of her body, her mind and her appearance, so conscious she thought they would all leap out of her body to be stared at by anyone looking in her discussion. The meal was difficult, but madness was kept at bay, hidden from the public. The prince invited her to join the council that would follow, her presence being of great importance to him.

Again, the councils were boring, and this one was not moving anywhere. While the proposal was good, requesting for such a number of men in exchange for a route into a neighboring sea could’ve been good but it simply was not enough, not to the lords of the councils and slowly, not the King. Madness, she had equated her strange behavior to earlier. And as a great scientist, she had confirmed it when in a burst of genius, she had made a proposal.

She remembered how her mother would speak of her father coming to offer himself as a marriage prospect. The princess had been young but the look in the queen’s eyes, she recognized it as the same she had that morning, the look they had shared together before she rode off into the night. As her mother would often say, she had seen that man and had to have him.

“Why not offer a union instead. Your kingdom united to ours in exchange for all the men you desire for as long as you desire.” Had she said, like a princess who had seen the man she had to have.

Less than an offer, it sounded like a statement, one he had accepted before it was even uttered, a statement he would obey like a soldier would obey their ruler. All noise quieted, the Lords, princes of the realm and the King stunned into silence by her words. It had been the first time she had even looked at him purposefully, looked at him like he was already dancing in her palm, a puppet to her every whim.

Before being a good king, he was a good father and as he liked to say, anything she would dream of, he would provide. She had looked at him, his little girl and he could see her assurance, almost like an impenetrable wall. He had watched in silence as Prince Nicholas smiled, accepting the proposal while dreaming of a life of love which had never interested him.

This had been the most ridiculous decision she had made but it had been made, a glorious proposal in the minds of all the councilmen, all rejoicing at the thought of killing two birds with one stone, one of these birds being her and the other being the bird of decency she was meant to keep on her shoulder.

That girl was insane, but she was getting married.

For the next months, she walked almost aimlessly, only ever coming alive when he was in her orbit. She had tried to reassure her mother the day of her departure by claiming that she would learn to love her future husband. How was she made to tell her loving mother that she had fallen as soon as she had seen the man and that this whole marriage was nothing, but a tantrum hidden under negotiations ? As awkward as she was, poor girl left her home, three of her brothers with her off course to assist her and all her maids following. The prince was strange, he had agreed to everything she had requested before leaving, even accepting to take her horse on the journey to her new home. Everything about this had been strange, all of it but she was not one to go back on her words, not when this opened such a great opportunity for both kingdoms.

She swallowed her confusion and walked in the shoes of the princess she would need to be, a role which was less arduous to play when her soon-to-be husband seemed to agree to anything and everything she could want, everything except being around her.

For the seven months which had preceded their wedding, she had grown to crave his company and attention, flowers of love blooming brightly in her chest and crying out to him, crying out for his eyes on her, like he had done that morning. She wanted him in more ways than the ones she kept to herself, and he seemed more interested in everything there could ever be. She had hoped that on the night of the wedding, they would cross the bridge together and finally, she could learn about him from his mouth and not from those of the people of the castle and the court.

Nothing had changed and here she was, the moon high in the sky, her feet cold and bare as she fidgeted with the fabric of her nightgown. The cold air was nothing compared to the warmth radiating out of her skin and seeping through the thin cloth covering her nakedness.

“What are you doing here ?”

She jumped in terror, so busy rationalizing and overthinking that she hadn’t heard the door opening or closing. Turning to face him, she wished she could die instantly, wished to be swallowed by the floor below.

There he was, just out of a bath which had taken more time than necessary but still needed to clear his head. He enjoyed to privacy of his chambers, a robe covering his manhood from her gaze. His eyes were fixated on her as soon as he had walked in, dark and tempted, he remained at a safe distance, observing as she tried to speak, gathering her thoughts and looking away before speaking.

“My apologies, husband… I… I wanted to see you…” Seen she had. “It was… It was urgent.”

“Are you okay ?” If worry spread through his mind, he made sure to hide it. He watched her nod before letting out a discreet sigh of relief and taking a seat on the chair that faced his bed, next to the chimney. “What could be so urgent that you would need to come see me so late and in such clothes ?”

She remained quiet and so did he, barely focused on his own state but entirely aware of how little she was dressed and how much he could see. Adjusting himself in the seat, he swallowed a groan, one meant to calm his nerves and snapping him out of whatever he was doing.

“I… We… We have been married for a month now, my prince.” Her voice was low and soft like the summer breeze and burning away at his decorum. He stared at her as she straightened her back and raised her head, reverting to the girl she’d been when he first met her. “We’ve been married for a month, and you have not touched me still… I do not want you to think that it is something I think of often as it would be a stain on my character that I could not withstand but… Have I done something to displease you ? Perhaps if you tell me I could fix whatever it is, and we could move on as newlyweds.”

He heard the way her breathing picked up, almost able to see her heart beating out of her chest as she spoke, trying to explain herself while he stared in silence, pathetic victim to his weakened spirit and the images it spread through his mind while she spoke.

Of course he wanted to touch her, ravish her, devour her whole. There was nothing more on his mind, no other thought consummated Prince Nicholas’ mind like the thought of her crumbling in his sheets did. He could almost feel it in her scent wherever she went, the sweet taste of her nectar on his tongue. If he allowed himself to dream more, he could feel her tightness around his length, holding him nicely while she squirmed under his body. He wanted nothing more than to have her whenever he saw her, her stature in front of his, so breakable and frail. The thought of his arms enveloping around her and engulfing her whole, like a wave.

How delicate and marvelous she was, his darling wife. How could he even think of touching her when he knew what he would do to her was beyond salacious ? How could he do that to her and ever go back to being cordial with her after ? He knew that she was poison to his mind and to his tongue, one single bite and he would never ever be able to go without. How was he meant to live a life when he dreamed of living in her skin, grinding himself down into fine powder to be breathed into her lungs. How could that ever happen ?

He had almost sworn himself to a life of sleepless nights, attempting to quench his thirst for her in the dead of the night with his hand on his cock, before she had walked into his room covered by almost nothing, asking why he had not bedded her yet.

Nicholas stood quietly, walking up to her with a dark expression on his features. He was so handsome, the most beautiful man she had ever seen, his hair still wet and his body glistening in the night.

“Are you asking me to bed you, dear wife ? Is that what you want ?”

He stood millimeters away from her, her air wrapping around his body and seeping into him. That damned scent, honey so thick and sweet he prayed to drown in it. She looked up at him, frozen by his tone and proximity. She could feel the warmth of him in her and wanted more, but a highborn lady could not want such things. Could they ?

She looked down, her eyes twinkling with disappointment and shame. This had all been wrong, a mess she had made and would have to deal with.

“I… I apologize, your grace… I did not mean to offend… I will go… Please, forget this ever happened.”

She held her hands tightly together to ground herself, taking long strides towards the door to prevent her tears from humiliating her further. She had barely reached the door that a large hand blocked the way by slamming the door shut. She jumped, surprised that all her years of training were not enough to help her notice whenever he moved around her.

She suddenly felt so small in front of him, her husband towering over her, large hands boxing her in his space. She could hear him breath softly, almost out of breath and sounding strained.

“Where do you intend to go exactly ?” His voice was deep as he spoke, shaking from the vibration it sent through her. “What… What do you think you are doing exactly ?”

He sounded pained by the very words, but she kept still, too scared to see where this would go if she turned.

“I wanted to return to my chambers, your grace…” In this whole conversation, this had been the clearest she’d been. All to say she was leaving, how annoying.

He chuckled and she was almost offended, because what exactly was so funny in this discussion ?

“You intend to return to your chambers… dressed like that ?”

Now she was offended. Was this truly what worried him ? One month married and he hadn’t touched her, but he worried about how she was dressed ? Of course, she knew why he worried, but she would still be angry at him for it, because why not ?

“The answer I gave earlier remains unchanged, your grace. Or would you prefer if I stripped completely ? Maybe then you would move out of my way then ?” There she was, the princess he had met that day, unbent by his titles. He could’ve almost laughed had the image she had planted in his mind, of her roaming bare in the halls, not angered him enough to go deaf.

He kept quiet and she almost thought he had died behind her before hearing the sound of fabric moving. Looking down at her feet, she saw the rope holding the robe closed on the floor and before she could process what was going on, she felt him move behind her pushing her into the door, his bare front against her, cock pressing into her backside as deep as she could feel it.

“You think… You think I would let anyone see you ? You think anyone ever deserved to see you ? Huh, dear wife ? Do you think anyone could ever dream of seeing you ?”

She couldn’t speak but he could hear her reaction in her breathing as it picked up, more erratic and less rhythmic. Her who had managed to remain somewhat composed until now was suddenly as quiet as a mouse, squeaking below him while he pressed himself into her.

If she asked, he would admit the jealousy and possessiveness he’d been feeling for her. Everyone could see it, but she remained clueless, too busy hiding from him. The bedding ceremony had been his last straw. Prince Nicholas was never known for losing his temper, so imagine the surprise of the lords of the court when he had raised his voice at them and his own father for attempting to keep the tradition of the bedding ceremony ? He had refused it, categorically, the idea of hungry old decrepit men staring at his darling in a moment that was form them only. Never. He would kill all of them for even thinking of it.

“I burn at the mere thought of you, your scent being the only thing I need to lose every bit of education I have ever received and… You think I would ever let you out of this room ?” His left arm wrapped around her shoulder, keeping her still. He tried not to lose it, feeling her push into him, her soft hands still holding onto her gown. He raised his other hand to move her hair out of the way before bending down to leave open mouth kisses on her neck. Deliberate and controlled, he wanted to go as slow as he could, savoring the moment. His tongue grazed her veins eagerly wherever his lips would go while he tried to keep his hips still, failing miserably and rutting into her. He could already see how nice and warm she would be around him, his sweet wife. His tongue on her skin wasn’t enough to satisfy his hunger for her. “You want me to bed you, sweetness ? Fine. »

Every word he has uttered up until now had ignited something within her which a proper lady could never dream of letting out in their lives, but her instinct called for change in that very moment, the kind that was meant to undo all she had built herself to be in front of him. Because as condescending and arrogant as he might’ve sounded, she indeed, wanted nothing more than to be fucked. Partly for the sole purpose of experiencing the act as a woman, but also because the feelings she had started to feel for the man she had slightly tricked into a union were growing out of her control and called for some form of relief. Presently, the most adequate for would be the pleasure of the flesh, which she craved to indulge in.

« Tell me no, my dear… » He pleaded in a soothing voice she had only heard on their wedding night. « Deny me the pleasure of you and I will escort you to your chambers myself. »

She had expected more roughness from him, somehow. Almost ready to be unceremoniously dragged to the bed and stripped bare, she found herself melting more from the softness of his touch on her neck. His nose ran along her veins while his hips rutted slowly into the crevice of her backside. The wetness pooling between her legs dripped like poison, influencing the madness in her. As she took hold of the hand on her shoulder, she moved it to lay flat on her lower stomach. His fingers dug into her flesh, almost to pull her closer than she already was and yet, in truth, to scare her, maybe, into refusing him like he hoped.

The complexity of his mind in the moment made him almost just as deezy as she made him. He could almost feel delirium clawing at him, new senses appearing in him. Yes, he could feel her. The tightness of her pussy and the taste of her juices. He could all feel it. The prince was indifferent to the possibility that this was all in his head. The things which had been brewing in that same head for weeks now made it all the more necessary for him to listen for once. If he denied himself the pleasure of his wife, he would go mad. For weeks now, the prince had tried to act as friendly and neutral to her, even indifferent in the days when the pull towards her was too much to handle. He had tried as hard as any man could to deny himself pleasure both out of loyalty to her but also because no other woman could ever compare to her in his mind. Not when his nights were spent relieving a hard day’s work of ignoring and avoiding his wife. But in truth, how could he ever face such a beautiful being and taint her with the gunk flowing through him ? He couldn’t control the lewd images of her in his mind and until now, he’d almost managed to keep himself in check. Until she appeared in his bedchamber, demanding he touch her like she deserved and like he dreamt.

That did not change the fact that the woman he had tried to ignore for so long had grown a place for herself in his heart, a place that made it impossible to not give her the possibility to refuse what would ensue.

« Tell me no, my love… » He muttered, lips glued to her shoulder, as one last attempt to keep things how they were, to do things the right way, someday, maybe, when he wouldn’t be as weak to his passions as now.

And as she turned to look into his eyes, Prince Nicholas knew. In that moment, he knew he was destined for a life of allegiance to his wife and her every whim. With these beautiful eyes of hers, his princess had reiterated her earlier statement. Her answer, silent but acted remained unchanged.

« I don’t want to say no… » She whispered to him, their lips ghosting over the others.

No human word could ever fully grasp whatever followed next. Her whole body was suddenly caught by a force never seen before and spun around, her husband almost overjoyed but too taken by her lips to express it with full focus. She’s never tasted anything as sweet as his lips and he could say the same. The warmth of one another’s tongue, dancing in the others mouth, hoping, Prato to burn the other’s taste into their psyche, this was what this battle for control could be described as. Beyond control, they sought to catch up on lost time and feverishly discover as much as they could about the other.

Their lips encased perfectly into the others, Nicholas’ of course more taken and familiar with the act. He had tried to show decency and control, but the feel of her hot lips on his, shyly moaning into his had uprooted all forms of control.

His hands roamed, seeking for something to hold onto, anything to either ground him or feed his hunger for her. He found her wrists, her smaller hands back to holding onto the fabric of her nightgown. In that moment, he almost felt jealous of her and the opportunity she had to live in her own skin. He who could only dream of momentarily touching her could never be satisfied with the short amount of time he would get to spend with her. Years by her side would never be enough, not when he dreamt of their skins being merged together.

While his lips busied themselves on hers with fervor, his hands explored, touching, gripping, moulding and burning the feel of her in his mind. From her soft cheeks in his palm to the burn of her breasts on his bare chest, the prince did not know where to focus. His hand seemed to struggle leaving her cheek, keeping himself as chaste as the moment allowed to reassure her before moving to her neck. His fingers grazed the soft of her throat and she remained still, a willing victim to his increased thirsts.

When the princess moaned for the ninth time in his mouth, her lips parted and swollen, he pulled away from her to admire the mess below him.

« I haven’t even begun to explore you, my dear that you’re already so weak to me. » He chuckled, kissing the top of her nose and her forehead. Oh how fun this would be for the evil him looming on his shoulder.

He pulled away, allowing air and rationality to settle between them and for a second they remained still and quiet, drinking in the sight of one another. His exposed body had to be the most magnificent thing she had ever seen, a Greek statue in the flesh and dancing in the crevice of her palm. She stared at him like never before, a whole new sight granted to her and exposing him in his truth to her, the prettiest man she’d ever seen. So handsome and so willing to bend to her every desire.

Her eyes roamed around like the painting of a landscape meant solely for her sight. She reached his hips and bit her lips, her imagination running away from her control and painting the picture of his cock entering her repeatedly. She’s heard from her brothers about the steps of the act, and while the fear of confusion had been palpable initially, it had been a complete other feeling spreading through her at the moment. The princess was hornier than ever and the her insistent eyes on her husband’s hardened cock prodding out of the robe he wore did not make it any less evident.

A grin spread across the princes’ lips, just as into being watched by her as he was to admire in return. Him who had tried to not let his eyes wander could see freely now, the way her gown barely hid her peaking nipples or the way she’d kept her thighs tightly glued together as soon as he had stepped back.

The princess he had sworn fidelity and loyalty to now stood in front of him, sleeping gown falling off her shoulder and exposing more than just her cleavage.

When she reached towards him, her hand commending him to move and do what duty demanded, he wanted to laugh. There she was, his spoiled girl, leading him astray.

« The ache between my legs, husband… You are the source of it. I believe it to be your duty to soothe it. » A newfound confidence had crept its way in her veins and it intrigued him even more. To see her finally come out of her shell and demand of him, the prince, her lord husband. Nicholas took careful steps towards her before kneeling. His left hand found her right and took hold of her, their fingers intertwining tenderly.

With his free hand, he lifted the hem of her gown to expose her legs, rushing the fabric in his fist as he kept going higher, until reaching her hip. With some of the fabric still held up by his thumb, the rest of his hand slid along her flesh, and a sigh of relief escaped him. Deep and desperate, his head dropped as he pulled her closer. He let his forehead rest on her belly, nuzzling against her and kissing wherever he could reach.

His right hand which had still been holding the fabric of her gown slid under her thigh to part her legs. The prince let go of her hand and the fabric before laying a tender kiss over her bellybutton. He pulled back and signaled for her to open her mouth before gathering the gown and placing it between her lips and telling her to bite down. Like a good wife, she went along with his commands, holding onto his shoulders when he guided her palms towards them.

One of his hands came up to her backside, grabbing a handful while his right hand slid in between her legs to reach her mound. When his fingers plunged inside her, she almost felt her legs give out under her. Never had she felt such a sensation. His two fingers seemed to stretch her apart, too much already yet enough for her to quickly want more of whatever it was they provided.

« Shh, breathe. » He muttered, his hand unmoving.

She looked down to meet his eyes, her own glistening with tears from a foreign presence inside her. She blinked back tears while nodding softly and attempting to take a breath. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, her breaths ragged and trembling in concert with her trembling body. He nails were digging in his skin, crescent shaped marks littering his shoulders but his gaze never wavered, always on her. When she was certain that the pain had passed, she nodded slowly, gaining a smile from the man.

His fingers started going in and out of her while his lips kept kissing over her stomach. He could not take his eyes away from her, not at a moment like this when she was slowly starting to feel the pleasure of his touch. He could’ve, evidently, began with an other way of easing her into the act and the look of pain on her face truly made him want to peal his skin off. Now, as things would have it, she needed to be prepared before taking anything else and from the tightness of her pussy around his fingers, he would enjoy spreading her out to take him.

The more he thrust his digits in, the more she failed to stand on her two feet. Slowly, her body seemed to fold over his, melting down and loosing strength in her limbs the more space he took in her. When he inserted a third finger, the moans of pleasure she had tried to keep in grew louder. Her lips could no longer hold the gown in, to busy pushing out sounds each more obscene than the last. Her knees slowly gave out, her legs spreading wider and her juices dripping out more and more with each thrust. And when she was certain to have finally gotten used to whatever he was doing, he started spreading his fingers in rhythm with her moans.

« Oh, Lord, please… Please, oh, oh God… » She moaned, slowly loosing control over her actions.

Nicholas never looked away, too enticed by the sight of her. The more she folded on top of him, the tighter his grip on her became and soon, his moans met hers. Loud breathing muffled only by skin, she could only fall a little more while he kissed her side. His three fingers were drenched and the prince would be lying if he said that he wasn’t jealous of them in that moment. To get bathed in her nectar would be a paradise for him.

Her arms slowly wrapped around his shoulders, using his back as support while her legs shook from his treatment of her. She had completely disregarded her gown which covered her intimacy. It was an interesting position to be in, covered yet bare for his eyes to see and hands to hold.

And while he busied his fingers with her cunt, his tongue focused on roaming her sides from under the gown which now covered his head. His kissed, licked and hit into her ribs, leaving open mouthy kissed and marks of his teeth behind him. It still wasn’t enough, not until Nicholas found her nipples, ready for him to do whatever he pleased. When his tongue grazed over the soft bud of flesh, a yelp left her mouth, and when he started sucking on it, her voice grew louder.

Everything he did, he marked it down in his head, memorizing everything she liked and disliked in the moment. Her pleasure was his only goal at the moment and in life.

Her grip changed and soon her nails were digging into the skin of his back, her walls tightening around him and her sounds louder and louder. His fingers continued at the same speed while his teeth and tongue battled each other for a taste of her tits in his mouth. One was graced with his teeth, bite marks around the areola while the other enjoy his tongue and lips sucking little marks all over. Either way, they both were getting pleasure out of it. Even he, couldn’t deny that his end would come rather quick. As soon as she would cum, he would probably follow, beyond satisfied by the sound of her alone. But the prince did not want to let his cum of hers go to waste, already daydreaming of watching it drip out of her.

No, this would all be for her, his cock and his cum would all be for her.

« Hum, my sweet girl… You demanded I take care of the ache between your legs, did you not, princess ? » He expected an answer, enjoying the torment he was causing her. « I’m speaking to you, pretty girl. »

« P-Please… » She pleased instead of speaking up, too aware of how impossible it was for her to repeat such a thing without feeling shame.

Slipping his head out from under her gown, his eyes found hers again, piercing and dark with lust, he was unrelenting with her pussy as much as with his demand.

It was only after he had slowed down, silently threatening to stop if he did not get an answer.

« No, no, no ! Please husband, p-please ! » She cried out, parting her legs and reaching her hand down to push him back in. Despite his grin, she knew he would not let it go and folded. « Yes… Yes, I asked you to make me feel good… »

His face remained neutral until a smile spread again, this time with his teeth, on his face. Without a word, he dove back in, face under her gown. She squirmed in his grip, feeling her end near as it had been described by her maids and feeling the warmth of his breath over her cunt. He kept her stable and stunned before diving in to get a taste and suck in her clit like he had done her tits earlier.

This time with more fervor, his tongue danced over the bud of flesh as she wailed louder and louder from pleasure. He pulled her impossibly close, his forehead buried into her belly while his lips kissed all over her pussy. He kissed it like he kissed her, with desire unrivaled by even the loneliest of beasts. Nicholas showed her clit just as much love as he has shown her when he kissed her. He kept fucking into her with his fingers, more and more enthusiast as her fingers moved from his back to his hair, running through his blondish locks and pulling at the root. She moved in synch with him, bouncing on his fingers like a woman starved of her release until she came loud and hard all over his fingers.

« Yes, yes, yes ! Oh, God, more, please more ! » She screamed as she crumbled over him.

He kept pushing into her, deeper and deeper while she tried to process her first orgasm. Her hips kept moving up and down, following his rhythm and slowing down slowly. She was left panting and sweating, her cum dripping along his forearm. Never had she felt like this before, all thoughts and words escaping her but his name remaining. And she looked so magnificent above him, he could’ve died a happy man in that moment. If he wasn’t a selfish one before anything he would’ve been content with this, but Nicholas was selfish and he needed to feel her cunt squeeze around him like it had squeezed his fingers.

Hiking her leg up and draping it over his shoulder, he pulled his digits out before diving in mouth first to suck in her swollen folds and droplets of cum. More than being selfish, he was also greedy and that greed burnt the delicious taste of her in his mind. Never had he been so desperate for a woman. He wanted her spread in his sheets for life, taking over his space like she did his heart.

He kept devouring her pussy while she trembled, too sensitive to handle more of his treatment of her. The prince looked up with desire, admiring the state he had left her in. He needed to see more.

Detaching his lips from her with great dissatisfaction, he rose to his full height, taking her with him and lifting her up before taking a could of steps and dropping her onto the bed. Not even a second had gone before he kneeled onto the bed and grabbed her gown by the top before ripping it apart.

« Nicholas ! » she screamed. It amused him and he apologized with a kiss to her forehead.

« I’ll have a hundred more made of the finest silks for you. Not that you will need them much in the future. »

He pulled whatever was left of the gown and his own robe, tossing them out into a corner of the room. His eyes scanned her body from top to bottom, painting down the picture of her in that state. Oh how he wished to have his mouth back on her cunt at the moment, drinking in her taste and enjoying the sounds of pleasure she produced. Instead, he satisfied himself with his fingers, sucking on all three as he took his cock in hand and stroke along the shaft. His balls were tight and full, he could feel them ready to burst from the sight of her alone. Even now, drops of cum leaked out of his slit to coat the veins running all along his member. His movements were slow and sensual, his tongue lapping up all over his fingers before licking down his arm to swallow all that had poured on him. How good did she taste, his princess, his wife. So sweet and sensitive, he couldn’t keep fucking into his hand when knew that the only thing that could provide him with the pleasure he needed at the moment was her.

She’d been watching this whole time, panting and aching even more for his cock to push inside her and make her his in the eyes of traditions. She could see it glistening with pleasure, pulsating and she wanted nothing more than to taste it the way he had tasted her. Everything about his anatomy was so new and yet, she wanted to dive in and discover him intimately. She would demand they stay in that very room and be allowed to discover his wants soon enough, but for now, the night called for more classical things. The pleasure of the flesh and hunger for one another demanded they follow customs.

Nicholas pulled out his fingers from his mouth, coated in his saliva and slipped them into her mouth while his other arm wrapped around her waist to pull her up and have her sit on the sheets. Bare in between the red and golden fabrics, she looked ready to be devoured and just like she would demand, he would get to that later. For now, he pulled her to his chest and grinned wider when she kissed his stomach, pulling out the fingers she’d been sucking to mirror his earlier actions.

For a moment, a veil of tenderness enveloped them both, softness settling between the married couple to awake a need to hold and kiss the other. Her arms wrapped around his torso and her face nuzzled into his chest, kissing whatever she could reach. A small laugh was his response, as well as soft caressed on her shoulders and cheek.

« You’ll get all the time you want to kiss me, my love. Let me do what I need to do, hum ? » He kissed her forehead after she had nodded, again more than satisfied by her obedience. Thought he enjoyed it, he would not lie, following her around and obeying to her every command was more what he liked.

Laying her down flat on the bed, his hands parted her legs to give him more space to move. From that position, he kissed her collarbones while guiding his tip in the direction of her entrance.

« I promise to go as slow and gentle as you want me. Just tap my shoulder if it gets too much, okay ? Speak for me. »

« Okay, the shoulders. Understood. » She repeated, nodding animatedly.

Her eagerness was palpable and truth be told, the apprehension of him nestled within her did made her fidget a little. But the hunger for him to stretch her out to his girth was even more taking. It but at her core and made the earlier ache return with more bite than before.

« Hum… Your grace ? » At the sound of her voice, the prince immediately stopped, looking up at her. « I… I’ve never done anything of this sort before…”

Something in the way she had spoken breathed joy within him. Not only because he was the one she had chosen to be her first but also because she had felt comfortable enough to tell him. The wall they had built around one another had been crashing down in a pile of cement leaving them exposed to the other. And through that both seemed to breath for the first time around the other, finally able to express the truth of their desire.

The lips etched onto her collarbones moved to kiss up her neck before reaching her cheeks and lips again. As soon as his lips met hers, she eagerly reciprocated the act, following after him in search for the taste of his tongue on hers. The tip of his cock had been rubbing along her slit and clit and she couldn’t help but want to see what would follow. Always the dutiful husband, Nicholas was, of course, a greedy man first. His left hand came up to her face to hold her neck tightly and her jaw in place. He pinched at the bone and forced her small mouth open with a smile before sliding his tongue in in concert with his cock sliding into her.

« Oh, God ! » She cried out, suddenly aware of how much bigger he was while inside than in front of her.

Her legs shook slightly, struggling to keep still while her insides were torn apart once again. Despite him stretching her earlier, this would’ve never been enough to prepare her for the girth and length of his cock digging into her canal and stretching her to his side. Tears welled up in her eyes and her bottom lip trembled in pain, it was all too much, too new. She couldn’t breath and should’ve been scared, yet the soft caress of his fingers on her throat grounded her just right.

« Just like earlier, sweetness. Breathe slowly. » He commanded and despite struggling to do so on her own he obeyed.

Slowly, her ragged breaths were replaced by even more ragged breathing but this time out of pleasure and eagerness. The space he took inside her demanded to be expanded and she needed to have a taste of the darkness dancing in his eyes. His eyes, hadn’t moved away from her at any point. Focused on her eyes while he kissed away her thoughts, his tongue and hers danced together, teeth clattering occasionally while drool dropped out of the corner of her mouth.

Neither of them would get over kissing the other anytime soon and it was for the best.

The prince wasn’t sure how long he’d been still within her tight walls, kissing her but he knew that the tight hold she had on him would soon drive him insane. With each hiccup her walls squeezed around him tightly. With each breath, she had him throbbing harder inside her and through all he managed to stay still. Not for much longer though, not when she wrapped her legs tightly against his waist and her arms around his shoulders before pushing her face into his.

« Move, please, Nicholas�� » She muttered against his lips and like a soldier ready to attack, his hips started moving. Slowly his pace shifted to go faster and deeper, his cock fucking into her cunt with more and more grit.

Soon the room echoed of the sounds of pleasure she created as well as his grunts of pleasure. Now on her ribcage, his hand rose to her breast to squeeze one in his palm while his other hand laid flat on her back. It slowly lowered to soon reach her ass that he squeezed too, using it as support to keep her close while he bottomed out inside of her.

The princess’ senses were like heightened by pleasure, her ears picking up on the sounds of the bed creaking and banging on the wall harder with each thrust. She could also hear the sounds of his groans and moans, all different and each more obscene. Of course she could hear the way his cock fucked into her warm cunt, his heavy sack slapping against her with more strength.

She could barely form a coherent thought to explain the way she felt and the sensations running around her body. All she knew was that she wanted more and so did he. He couldn’t begin to tell how good it felt to finally be inside her and feel that sweet tightness he had daydreamed for weeks before tonight. She held onto him tighter with each thrust and he knew she felt good, so good even that she pulled at his hair again, this time screaming her pleasure from up close into his willing ear. Like a symphony of pleasure and lust, the prince had never heard any sound as beautiful as her voice crying out to him in pleasure while he dug his cock into her guts.

He was quick to find the spot that would have her falling apart, a bundle of nerves which had her begging for his cock deeper and harder than before. And Prince Nicholas was a good and obedient man, whatever his wife wanted she’d get.

Leaving her lips, his mouth moved with his face to suck on her breast again, licking her nipple before his arms moved to cross behind her. Both his hands took handfuls of her ass before lifting her up and down on his cock. The prince started moving her body in tandem with his thrusts. He couldn’t hold himself together for long, he knew it as soon as he saw her in his room tonight, and his voice was the first tell. Growing louder and louder, the prince lost himself inside his princess.

« F-Fuck… My love… Oh, yes… F-Yes, yes, take it, sweetness… Take me good, my love…Yes ! »

This time it was his turn to leave crescent shaped marks on her flesh, his nails digging into the thick of her ass. She couldn’t compare to anything she’d even seen before but the prince fucked like a man possessed, his pants of pleasure louder than the next each one after the other. Moans and cries could be heard all though the room and even beyond, both knew it.

« M-My… Oh, oh, oh, hum ! » She had tried to speak but his pace accelerated again, his cock going deeper and slamming into a wall of flesh as well as the spot he had reached earlier. “Fuck ! Ah, ah, ah, m-my… My love… S-s-slow down ! »

Her voice trembled of pleasure, the kind that neared on insanity. Now, both her hands were in his hair, finding something to ground herself on amongst the thick curls on his head. Feeling the tip of his cock get even deeper, she looked down to see it through her stomach, a bulge forming on her lower belly. Repeatedly, the large mushroom tip of his dick pushed into her cervix, showing itself to the lovers.

Nicholas’ forehead rested against hers, following her gaze while he bit hi slips to contain himself but failed. There he was, all the way inside her smaller body. He was suddenly way more aware of how small she was in comparison to him, his cock wide enough to make such a visible image inside her. She watched his furrow his eyebrows, almost looking and sounding in pain. He couldn’t handle the events. From the taunting him in her little question to calling him her love. This would kill him. But he would die a happy man.

« Oh… Oh sweet… I-You kill me, sweet love… » He could only say while trying not to look down again. He buried his face in between her breasts to hide from the obscene vision. He would come quickly and so would she, he knew it.

Her breasts bouncing against his skin was pure agony, just like it was our agony to feel her squeeze him as tightly as she was. To reciprocate the « suffering » his hand came down to push her stomach at the place he had been pushing into. She bit her lip to keep in another cry of pleasure that would quickly be replaced by more incoherent screaming while his thumb came down to rub on her clit.

He needed her to cum around him and quickly or he’d go insane. He toyed with her bud of flesh while looking at the way his cock went in and out of her, stretching her out to fit him while he fucked her within an inch of her life. A ring of cum had formed around him, white and thick. That vision alone fed into his need to cum. He needed to see more of this.

« Come for me, sweetness… » He groaned with as much control as he could muster. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head while his own crossed, his mouth falling open to let out a string of animalistic grunts and moans. Both synchronized for a moment, her meeting his thrust with her own eager movements while he pushed into her harder and harder until both came in a string of cusses.

She almost felt like she had gone blind for a moment, white light clouding her vision as well as the groundbreaking sensation of her second orgasm raging through her. And if she thought this was it, she was quickly thrown back into that coital state by his cum spurting out of his cock into her warm cunt. The princess felt her husband spread through her and fill up every crevice of her pussy. Warm and thick, she felt his cum dance inside her for the next minutes as they both came down from their end, sweaty and panting.

Both were still moaning, the prince too out of his mind to keep himself from thrusting inside her some more. He didn’t want to pull out, not when she felt so good.

Instead, he chose to rut inside her tight pussy while kissing her jaw and throat. Her own hand caressed the back of his neck while she blinked away the sleep. His kisses were so soft and tender, she couldn’t help but to reciprocate, kissing his ear and into his hair.

« Have I satisfied you, my love ? » He muttered, falling on her. His body was covering the whole of hers as she laughed.

« More than that, my prince… » Her voice was small in that moment, just as sweet as her and filled with unspoken warmth.

He was still panting on top of her, holding her close and basking in the scent of her body enveloping him as she bathed him in tenderness. Both fell asleep slowly, his lips whispering sweet nothings into her ear and kissing her into a well deserved sleep. Through the night they remained connected, holding onto the other and keeping his cum and hers deep inside her.

The next morning, when the maids came up to the Prince’s chamber to notify him of the princess’s disappearance, they were quickly thrown out, all squealing in shame from witnessing her on top of him, bouncing and taking her early pleasure from him without a care in the world. Luckily she hadn’t seen them or even heard, too busy treating herself to a morning ride, but he had and he would not have anyone disturb his wife while she enjoyed herself on him.

As mentioned earlier, she would have him disregard his duties for the day so that she could have a taste of his cock herself and he would gladly oblige in exchange of a taste of her sweet cunt on his tongue.

It became tradition to find her in his chambers or the other way around. She enjoyed being chased by him at the hours of the night in her gown to be carried back to her rightful place in his bedsheets. The knights and the maids knew better than to look. The princess on the prince’s shoulder was for his eyes only. And when both found themselves in her chambers it was due to his need to smell her on him at every turn. More than once he’d sneak in her bath with her and before he could even speak, the maids would scurry out of the room.

When both became king and queen, nothing much changed except now, no room was left untouched, the throne room first to be christened.

Their future would be constructed on foundations of love and intimacy to catch up on the lost time at the beginning of their marriage and that same marriage would be one their descendants would remember as the best to ever be. All it would take was a princess who demanded and a prince who obeyed.

[venmondiese]

The needs of a prince are the work of a whore.

slight spoiler for season 2 episode 3 of house of the dragon

masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ A03

✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader ✧Rating: +18 mdni explicit ✧word count: 3.3k

-ˋˏsummary: after aegon's mockery at the brothel, he pushes Aemond into having another whore. Anything royalty asks for, it is the brothel's duty to provide. ✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, p in v sex, most of aemond's kinks lol, oral sex (m receiving), tiddy suckin, reader works in the brothel, tw: aegon in ep3, behaviour that reflects trauma. ✧ note: i had to write about this scene lol. i looooved to hint at aemond's response to trauma and how his mind works bc #psychology

“Brother!” The slurred voice came from behind him, and Aemond could practically smell his pestilence. He ignored his eldest brother, walking between the debauchery in the brothel. He never stayed longer to presence how whores were getting fucked and groped, as he didn’t enjoy staying longer than needed. 

The cold stone on his feet feel like a hold onto reality, as he tries not to stumble across drunkwards and their whores, as to where Aegon behind simply collides and curses them out, following Aemond.

“Your King commands you to stop walking” Aegon says loudly, a voice that he hears, but the rest of the brothel seems not to care. Aemond sighs, he breathes in, tired of Aegon. He doesn’t have any weapon, but he will strangle him to death in this very brothel, not caring if they are going to kill him the moment he touches Aegon. 

Aegon might humiliate him, but he is the most powerful attack and defence they have. Without Aemond, without Vhagar, they are nothing. They can stand a chance because of him. Because of Vhagar. Because he was brave enough to claim her, to the cost of his eye. 

He turns around, his face expressionless as he looks at his brother, naked as the day he was born. 

“Don’t be such a twat” Aegon says, his voice still dripping that mockness and cruelty Aemond was so used to.

It’s like Aegon tries to walk without staggering, but a young couple collides with him, almost making him fall.

“You imb-” The other drunkard insults him as he falls, and Aegon turns to see him. “My King-” the man stutters, as he tries to do the most pathetic curtsy Aemond has ever seen. And he has been used to seeing people bow to him all his life. “I didn’t mean to, forgive me” 

Aemond looks away, sighing as the man clings to Aegon’s feet, begging for forgiveness for cursing the King, and Aegon rolls his eyes, almost shaking his foot to get rid of him. Aemond rolls his eye as he starts walking away.

“Stop.” Aegon says as he sees Aemond walking away. “Brother, you will– It’s my duty, as king and elder, to finally initiate you, to make sure you are–” He rambles and Aemond sighs. If it's very hard taking his brother seriously before, now it is impossible with a man clinging to his feet and kissing his boots for forgiveness. “With… her”

Aemond turns his gaze to the young lass, standing dutifully behind the man clinging at Aegon’s feet, her hands clasped together as she looks at the ground, pretending not to exist. Doesn’t seem interested in getting in the mess that the royals have been in.

“Yeah, you” Aegon says, smirking as if he got a brilliant idea. “Quite new, aren’t ya?”

You hesitate, looking at Aemond and then Aegon, nodding. “Yes, my King” 

“Look” he says in a mocking tone, still slurred, as he steps closer to Aemond, finally having his feet free from the man. He places a hand on his shoulder, and gives him encouraging slaps. “A pretty young maiden for you.”

You look at the prince. If you were as young and a maiden as he presented you, you probably would not be here, he knows. 

“If it pleases my prince…” it’s your soft voice. 

Aemond clenches his jaw. You were pretty. The type of pretty that highborn ladies should be, and the eyes of a seductress. Not the type Aegon fancied, the ones who were lewd, and probably would crawl to Aegon and start grinding to get off. You see the type of woman that he fancies.

He is not used to it. Fuck a stranger. It’s… odd. He knew the madame, and she knew him. The comfort she gave him was different from fucking a whore amongst the rest. 

“Your King commands you to” Aegon says smugly, turning to see Aemond. “Time to get it wet”

Aemond has to breathe, considering murder. He closes his one eye, teeth gritting as he is so done with his brother. And to think that he has the power to tease him with no repercussions. 

“Find a room for his royal highness to use you” Aegon says to her, passing her a sack of golden coins, not having the decency of counting the money he was spending. You just grab it in your hand, as Aegon tries to push Aemond towards you, which he doesn’t grant him the right to. “Go on. Have fun, after all, one whore is as good as another”

As Aegon walks away, Aemond inhales sharply and looks at you. He already paid you, and he knows that with that amount, you’ll probably cling to his back and follow him until he dismisses your service.

You are shy to grab his hand, and guide him to one of the free rooms. The hour is late, so it’s busy. You have expected to get fucked in a corner, not in one of the fancy rooms with the prince. 

It’s relatively easy to get a room when Aemond is behind you, naked and with an unpleasant expression. Even if his face isn’t as familiar as the King’s, the sapphire is enough to recognise the Kinslayer. 

You accommodate the bed a bit, and you sit in the middle of it, looking at him with big eyes. He noticed you were good with your eyes, inspecting things about him, as if you were one of the ladies that sat in the dirty streets and offered to read palms. You just did it quietly, as you sat in the bed.

“What things do you fancy, my prince?” You ask softly. “I know many things”

He scoffs at the question, sitting on the edge of the bed. He knows you mean diverse acts of debauchery, from a lap dance to using your mouth for his pleasure. What would you know of things he liked?

“Shall I fetch you some wine?” You add softly.

“Fine” 

You move rather quietly, taking some wine and a cup for him. He is as good as inspecting as you; he watches your nervousness that you hide behind a calm facade. As you extend the cup to him, he makes his mind, standing up as he sips the wine, scanning at you, his only eye is as intense as it is intimidating. Yet you look back at him, sitting on your heels, in the middle of the bed. 

“Undress” 

As you unlace your dress, his eye lingers over you, watching your soft body be unveiled before his gaze, making him inhale again. You noticed that he did that quite often, as if to reorientate his thoughts. 

What he thinks is a mystery, because he is not expressive. He seems calculating, and you are not sure of what he actually wants. But you see his eye, lingering a moment on your body; your breasts. 

You might not know his thoughts, but you know the look of lust in a man’s eye. 

You crawl closer to the edge of the round mattress, looking at him as he has stayed standing there, inspecting you. It is clear that he doesn’t trust you, not as much as he did with madame Sylvi.

Perhaps it was the mockery of his brother, the cruelty that you witnessed, but you know that Aemond sees something in you that arouses him, and for you, that’s enough to keep going. It’s not like you don’t want him, he was not only a prince, but he was completely divine. His physique, and the way he was pure muscle, delighted you in the best ways possible. It was the body of a Targaryen prince, often said to be closer to god than men. 

“Allow me, my prince” you say, looking up to him. 

He looks down at you, and as he considers his options, you take the chance to look at his hardening manhood, sighing a bit, longing to feel the prince’s cock on your mouth. 

“Go on” he murmurs, his voice raspy as he looks down at you. 

You wish you knew better what he likes, but you’ll improvise a bit. You press a soft kiss on the lower part of his abdomen, slowly moving the kisses lower and lower, feeling his hard abdomen under your lips and moving to his crotch. You look up to him a last time, which he has not taken his eye out of your face. 

You take his hardening and growing cock on your hand, moving it slightly to the side to keep on pressing kisses on it. You feel the desire growing on your belly, and you accommodate your legs to lean forward a bit more, still moving your kisses down, fondling his balls in your hand as you keep on kissing him. More sloppy, wet kisses, kissing him almost tenderly, almost at the edge of pure lust. A primal need to keep on worshipping his cock this way. 

Lazy eyes turn up to see him once again, as he has his mouth open, panting as one of his hands moves to your hair, moving it out of your face as he licks his lower lip, before moving your face, just to slip his cock in your mouth softly. 

The mere fact that you are pleasing a prince, makes you shiver with pleasure. And not any prince, but Aemond. It was more like a privilege, in which you had no interest in wasting it. 

His cock invades your mouth, as he slowly moves your head for your throat to engulf him, but you are greedy; bobbing your head, looking up at him as he throws his head back, his silver hair spills over his shoulders as he savours the feeling. 

The way his hips rock rocks and push his cock past her lips, made her eyes roll back ever so slightly, as her tongue moved along the length. He pushes your face further into his groin, as he fucks her mouth with slow and deliberate strokes, his balls hitting her chin repeatedly, as he chases the arousing sensation of having his cock deep in your throat. 

“Brother!”

You don’t take your mouth off because you are not asked to. The King is rather drunk, and you see that prince Aemond is not in the mood for his antics.

“See?” Aegon asks in a mocking tone, as he steps in the room. “A good whore would get you-”

“We are busy here” Aemond says between gritted teeth. The humiliation tinted his cheeks pink, as his hand holding your hair hesitates on its grip. 

Aegon looks at you, and you gaze at him for a moment. An error, you realise as he speaks to you now.

“Do you enjoy him, girl? Or is he still a crybaby?”

You don’t miss the way Aemond’s fist clenches around your hair, and pulls you out from his cock. You look at him, as if asking for advice on what to answer. 

“Answer the King” Aemond murmurs, gritting teeth as he looks away.

“He’s the best I’ve ever had, my King”

“His royal highness has finally accomplished something on his own, I could probably enjoy you after he-”

“Though you might enjoy a-” Your voice interrupts him, and both men turn their gazes to you. “You might enjoy a new Lyseni girl here, your grace. Pure blood Valyrian”

Perhaps it’s the drunkenness of His Grace’s senses, but he doesn’t decide to have your tongue for interrupting him. Instead he claps, amused and happy. “Oh, finally some good advice around here” He says, patting Aemond’s back. “Good cunts around here”

Once he leaves, you turn to see Aemond. His jaw clenched, and biting his lower lip. You are a bit shy to keep kissing his body, as his hand leaves your hair. He seems to immerse himself in his thoughts.

You accommodate, looking up to him as you leave a shy kiss on his breastbone. 

“Do you wanna carry on, my prince?”

He blinks, slowly. You can see how the sapphire is brighter with the candle lights, and you hesitate if he wants to keep going. 

“Get on fours” he murmurs, not in the mood for more. You notice, a bit taken aback. But who are you to disobey? You are a whore, paid to do whatever your master wants. 

The position is rather familiar to you, as your knees touch the mattress and you slide your body forward to lean on your elbows, and you feel the weight of his body as he moves in the mattress, behind you.

You breathe in for a moment. King Aegon had partially killed the mood, but it didn’ stop your arousal for Aemond Targaryen. He was divine, and so was pleasuring him. You would follow him around, like a dog, always available when he needs you to pleasure him. And however he wants, you’d agree.

You feel his hands on your thighs, and his thumbs moving your folds as if trying to know your body by his hands. 

Sighing softly, your back is arching, relaxing more and more as you feel his heavy gaze on your body. You gasp a bit when you feel the tip of his cock passing through your wet folds, as if gaining the arousal back from it. You hear his groan, delighted as he pushes his hips quietly, passing his cock through your wetness like this. 

He doesn’t waste much time slipping his cock in, and your choked cries as he forces his way in, makes him know that perhaps you were not as experienced as other whores. He looks at you for a moment, cunt fluttering around his cock. 

“Oh gods…” you moan as you feel his hands on your hips, as his cock starts thrusting in and out of you.

Whimpers and moans fall from your mouth, as he fucks you. The genuine sound of your pleasure delights him further, fueling his desire for you as he fucks you deeply. The wetter you get, the rougher he gets. 

“Fucking- whore” he says through gritted teeth, and you feel your head blushing red with humiliation and arousal as he crudely say those words. 

“Y-Yes, my prince, u-use me…” your soft voice came as weak, breathlessly as your body bounces with each hard thrust he gives on you. 

It’s a delight to feel him like this, as you feel him slapping you ass. You bite your lower lip to stifle a moan, and grip on the bedsheets a bit more.

“Greedy whore” he murmurs, looking at you “You are drooling like a maiden would” 

Her body burns with shame at being called a greedy whore, but it only serves to make her want him even more.

Prince Aemond turns you on your back, as if something… feral woken up inside him. Animalistic and primal. You couldn’t know what, but it happened and the gods knew you were enjoying it. 

“Please… don’t stop” were weird words to come out of your mouth. To truthfully beg someone to keep going.

Aemond’s big hands came to slap your tits, and it stings, but more than hurting is making you feel only desire, heat and need. 

Seeing your body bounce as he fucked you, his cock slamming deeper eachtime, did something to him. You could see it, as he had his gaze firm on your breasts, from time to time taking a break to look at your face or your cunt, taking in his cock.

Another slaps on your tits, his hair falls down from his shoulders as his hips keep pounding into you. You see his chest, pure muscle as his abdomen tightens. And as you watched him, he watched you, before leaning in and moving his head to take one of your breasts on his mouth. 

Perhaps it is mere instinct as one of your hands comes to hold his head against your breast, a bad idea when it comes to a prince, but it only serves to fuel his arousal, and his cock is leaking more and more, as his greedy mouth keeps on sucking. 

Slight tears prick her eyes as his cock hits that delightful spot inside her, which many men often miss. But his cock hits it repeatedly, time after time, just to make your cunt clench around his more and more.

“I am going to cum, my prince” your voice comes as whiny, fine tears of arousal streaming on her cheeks, as you look at him, moaning around your breasts, before separating. 

He feels every detail of your orgasm, as the lewd sounds coming out from your mouth,vhow your body slightly trembles and your cunt clenching his cock, trying to pull him into an orgasm as well. He doesn’t miss the way you roll your eyes and bite your lower lip, and how your hips moved around his cock. 

Doesn’t take him much to cum either, as he feels his balls tighten up, as she pushes her hips slowly to meet his last lazy thrusts. He cums inside her, feeling her pussy milking him greedily. 

“Fuck” he groans, breathlessly, as one of his hand is next to your body as he leans, fucking the remains of his orgasm into you.

As the work is done, he pulls out and you take some minutes to gain your breath, looking up at the ceiling and trying to regain your thoughts after being blank from the pleasure.

But he doesn’t leave.

You move your head up, a bit curiously as you don’t feel the mattress lighten up due to the missing of his weight. He is still here, leaning back on the pillows as he pants a bit.

So he isn’t the type that disappears after fucking. 

You reincorporate, sitting up on the bed, in front of him as he has one eye closed. You suppose his missing eye, and the damage on it prevents him from closing his eye around the sapphire, and you find it a delightful detail of him. 

“You can stay as long as you want” you murmur. Perhaps he doesn’t want to go back to the castle, to the cruelty of the king. You are not one to know, but you saw how crude the King was. 

“Hm” his hum is the only sound he emits. 

“And… you can still request more things, if you desire so” you add, sitting by his side. “Anything, my prince” 

He knows of your lower status, because it is obvious. Calling him ‘my prince’ or Aegon ‘my King’ as the lowborns do. He looks at you, curiously.

“Very well then” he murmurs, laying back on the pillows, with you at his side. He is afraid of asking for comfort, of seeing Aegon walk in again and mock him more. 

He is different, you sense. In a way, he isn’t like the king, groping whores at his own delight, fucking them as if nothing, just to go on to the next one. 

Prince Aemond might fake it otherwise, but he is not like that. 

“Was it good?” It’s his voice. “I don’t have time for lies, girl. So don’t waste my time”

You turn your head to look at him. He seems tense still, his hands are on his knees as he is sitting, and you say the truth.

“It was the best I’ve ever had, my prince”

If it is a clear truth or a dirty lie, he doesn’t share his appreciation. He cuddles after some time next to you, and you open your arm to him. 

The needs of a prince are the work of a whore.

[slaytheusurper]

⭑ Ānogar ānograro ⭑

Translation title: Blood of my blood

Masterlist

Request: Yes, this one

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Newlywed!Niece!Reader

Warnings: Porn ofc, Aegon being an ass, High Valyrian dirty talk, Aemond having a breeding kink, sex addiction, Alyssa x Baelon wedding night inspo, kissing, p in v sex.

Summary: Aemond was obsessed with his niece, and now she was officially his, his to breed, his to claim and the entire Red Keep gets to enjoy it too!

Word count: 1.3k

The sun was shy that morning, its pale rays slipping timidly through the heavy crimson drapes that adorned the chambers you now shared with your new husband. The room smelled faintly of dragonfire. It was a mingling of stone, ash, and something distinctly Aemond—a scent you couldn’t yet name, though it lingered in the furs and pillows that surrounded you.

You stirred first, blinking against the soft glow of dawn. For a moment, you forgot where you were. The bed was grand, with its towering posts and velvet hangings embroidered with dragons in flight. Your fingers idly traced the scales of one such dragon as the memories of last night came flooding back. The ceremonial feast, the vows spoken before the lords and ladies of the court, and finally, the intimacy of your union.

“Look at you, sucking in my cock like a whore from Flea Bottom, are you sure you’re a maiden?” You could only nod as he fucked into you on top. The whole bed slamming against the wall with his rough thrusts.

Heat rose to your cheeks as you recalled the way Aemond had looked at you then. His singular violet eye had been piercing, yet cautious, as if you were something fragile he feared might shatter under his touch, yet he couldn’t control himself. And now here you were, lying beside him in the aftermath of it all.

Aemond lay still, his chest half-turned to you. His silver hair spilled like molten light across the pillow, stark against the dark linens. The blanket had slipped to his waist, revealing the expanse of his bare chest. Eye patch on the nightstand and sapphire glimmering in the morning rays.

Your new husband shifted behind you. The bed was so warm and comfy and the way he was holding you was right out of a dream. You smiled to yourself when he peppered your neck with kisses.

“Good morrow my beautiful wife.” He grumbled lowly in your ear, making goosebumps ripple over your skin. “Good morrow, husband.” He too smiled at your words, and his grip around your waist thightend. You could feel his half hard cock bare against your own nude form.

“I’m going to fill you with my seed as many times as necessary, you’re mine now and I will not stop until your belly is swollen with my child and even then I would not stop.”

“What are you thinking about my love?” His honeyed voice pulled you from your thoughts. “Nothing- just last night, the ceremony and the feast…” He chuckled at that, his cock hardening fully at the thought of how your walls clenched around him last night.

“You mean when I split you open on my cock?” His words made you blush and hide your face in the pillows. “Don’t be shy now my love.” Aemond mumbled in your neck, placing some kisses to make you face him. Once you did he wasted no time in crashing his lips against yours.

Already hungry for another taste of your lips. He turned you sideways and then on top of him, grabbing your arse cheek and smacking it, making you gasp. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, dizzying you with desire. 

You could already feel the pre cum sticking to your stomach, making butterflies swirl inside. He smacked your arse once more, recalling how loud you moaned for him last night when he first did it. You were both sure the entire Red Keep heard your coupling, but according to your uncle husband that was good. 

Everyone knew Aemond was secretly obsessed with his niece, he tried to hide it, hate her as he hated her brothers but that was quite hard for him. And so when your betrothal was announced he couldn’t hide the smirk at supper, making sure to send it Luke’s way. 

The wedding night was filled with love as well as passionate fucking, he had taken you two more times after taking you maidenhead, each time making sure to fill you with his seed. He was already obsessed at the thought of breeding you, even the morning after it already consumed his mind again.

“You’re still slick with my seed, do you think you could take me already now?” You nodded at his words, his hand now caressing your arse. “Good girl, so good for her uncle, aren’t you?” You whined, “Yes uncle, so good- only for you-” His thumb that was now circling your clit, made you lose your entire vocabulary. 

“Kessa ao sagon sȳz syt aōha kēpus bisa jēda hae sȳrī?” Will you be good for your uncle this time as well? You nodded again at his words. “Ȳdragon.” Speak. “Kessa kēpus, kostilus tepagon ziry naejot nyke-” Yes uncle, please give it to me. He smiled, “Sȳz riña.” Good girl.

Then you felt the tip of his cock grazing your hole, you were still sensitive from last night but you were already addicted to his cock, to his voice, his kisses and his smell. Without a warning he slipped inside, eager to feel your cunt again. 

“Sīr ȳrda syt nyke.” So tight for me. You moaned at his words, starting to bounce yourself on his cock. You had no patience either, and the one time you got to ride him last night was euphoric. You loved when he spoke your mother tongue to you, it made you feel close and connected to him.

But it was even better when he used it to whisper filthy words in your ear while you bounced on his cock. Skin smacking filled the room, as well as your mixed sounds of pleasure. You held steady against his chest, switching from grinding on him to bouncing on him. 

He grabbed your breasts in his hand, obsessed with the way they bounced up and down with your movements. Pleasure consumed both of you and you knew he was getting closer by the way he held his breath. He however held patience no longer and put his arms around you, holding you flush against his chest as he started to fuck up into you harshly. Making your walls contract and come hard around his cock.

“Kessa māzigon syt nyke- Tepagon nyke iā riña, hōzigon syt nyke-” Yes come for me- Give me a child, swell for me- He grunted, a sheen of sweat now glistening on his skin. You could only moan and whine above him, letting him take you. With a couple more pounds, he filled your cunt with a loud growl. Making sure to fuck his seed deep into you.

Your morning activities had made you both completely forget about the arranged family meal, you were to break fast with the king and his wife as well as your mother and father, not forgetting your uncle, aunt and siblings. The two of you rushed to get ready, both hurrying down the halls with a smile. 

When you entered the room, knowing looks were passed. Of course Aegon couldn’t help himself. “So...you don’t need to tell us how the wedding night was, we could all enjoy it with you.” He grinned. “Aegon.” Alicent warned. He just laughed. 

You blushed deeply, you were raised a kind and modest princess, and for your intimacy to be on display like this was quite embarrassing. Aemond held your hand and you joined them at the table, both of you praying that that would be the end of Aegon’s commentary, how wrong you were.

Tag: @summerposie (Completely forgot 😭 sorry for the late tag)

[just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace]

Theatrics (Sauron x fem!Elf!reader)

-> in which Celebrimbor tries to expose you and your husband to the people of Eregion, but you play the role of the innocent maiden to perfection

Warnings: evil!reader, murder, manipulation, mentions of wounds, smut, light choking, blood licking, fingering, p in v, slight roleplay, slight voyeurism kink

Note: part of the evil!reader collection of fics. okay I finally said fuck it and wrote smut *throws it into the wild and runs away*

Mature content below the cut—minors DNI!!!

Chaos roars around you as you step out into what were once the beautiful streets of Eregion. Walls are crumbling, arrows are flying, Elves are scurrying about every which way.

You suppress a smile. All is going according to plan. But what pleases you even more is that at long, long last, the moment which you had been most eager to savour has finally come to pass.

Celebrimbor has learned the truth.

No more tiptoeing around him, playing the unassuming Elven smith. No more taking orders from him, no more assisting him, no more pretending like you are anywhere close to kind and innocent and sweet.

Well, with him, at least. But he is the one you had most strived to fool, ever since you came to Eregion all those years ago, not knowing how long you would have to endure the life you would craft for yourself there until your husband regained his form. When the moment came that you were finally able to stand at your husband’s side in the crumbled forge as Celebrimbor realized who ‘Annatar’ was and what you were to him, when you took in the horror in his eyes as he pointed accusingly to your beloved’s pitch black blood only to watch you lick it hungrily off his hand instead of running in terror...

It nearly made up for all the times the words ‘my lord’ had tasted foul on your lips, spoken to the smith in false submission. You serve no one but your husband—and even that can hardly be called service, when he serves you in return with equal devotion.

You wonder how much of a fool Celebrimbor will have already made of himself even before you find him, wherever he has run off to in the wake of his terrible realization. You and your husband had ensured that by the time Celebrimbor manages to speak against you, all ears would be shut to his words. The Elves once loyal to him now believe him fatigued to incoherency at best, dangerous in his madness at worst. When you had last emerged from the forge, it had been crying and holding a bloody hand, claiming that Celebrimbor had brought Fëanor’s hammer down upon it in a moment of cruel impatience with your work. An illusion, of course, conjured by the part of your husband’s power which lives within you. You have bandaged that hand now, mindful to keep up the charade.

You make sure to fill your eyes with as much dread as any other Elf’s as you run through the chaos, searching for Celebrimbor. Your husband is out here as well, but not with you—it would serve you better to arrive separately for this little special occasion.

By the time you find Celebrimbor on the rampart, he is already quite the pitiful sight—he and Mirdania stand near a section of the parapet which had been wrecked by an Orc boulder, leaving it horribly easy to fall over the edge through the resulting gap. He is screaming at Mirdania that she has to believe him, over and over. She eyes him warily, drawing ever so slightly away, no doubt unsettled to find herself in the proximity of such a disturbed individual and a dangerous fall, all at once. Of all the Elves he could have run to, it had to be the one most taken with your husband’s charms. Oh, this is too perfect.

“My Lord, there you are!” you exclaim. His eyes widen in horror at the sight of you. Yours are awash with concern as you reach for his arm. “It really is not safe for you to be out here—”

Celebrimbor recoils, so violently he nearly knocks Mirdania off her feet as he stumbles into her. She yelps, rushing to your side instead.

“Don’t you dare come near me, you witch!” Celebrimbor spits out, jaw trembling as he yells at the guards, “Seize her!”

You don’t need to see your own face to know you have made it into the perfect picture of confusion and hurt. You exchange a glance with the guard closest to you, Captain Malendol. You’ve shared some laughs over the years, the occasional friendly conversation, even a dance or two at celebrations and the ever-so-subtle flirtation under the supposed influence of a wine glass or two. He likes you quite well, if you do say so yourself. Which makes the bafflement on his face, unlike yours, genuine.

Celebrimbor swallows painfully as realization dawns on him—his own guards no longer obey him. “She is no friend of yours,” he insists, “she never has been! She—”

The words die in his throat when he catches a glimpse of your husband. He has finally joined you, silently making his appearance on the steps behind Celebrimbor, and now the smith is effectively caught between the two of you, even if the trap is utterly invisible to those around you.

“Seize him,” Celebrimbor scrambles to order, “seize them both.”

Malendol stays put. All eyes around Celebrimbor regard him with nothing but sympathy.

“He is Sauron,” he claims desperately, as truthful an attempt as it is fruitless. “Seize them! They have been lying to you all along.”

“No,” Mirdania shakes her head at your side. “Lord Annatar has been protecting us.”

“While you’ve been in your tower, giving orders that might have been the end of us all,” Malendol adds reproachfully.

You allow yourself the slightest raise of a gloating eyebrow, visible only from the angle of Celebrimbor and your husband. As intended, it fuels the rageful despair in the smith’s eyes.

“No,” he all but pleads to be believed. “No, that was him. He is Sauron! And she...” he points a finger which trembles with anger at you, “His foul lover! His depraved mistress! I saw it! Before my eyes, she tasted his blood as if in some... deranged coupling ritual!”

“By the Valar,” you breathe out, swaying on your feet. Such vulgar words would weaken the knees of a faint-hearted maiden. So, accordingly, you begin to fall in Mirdania’s direction, leaving her to scramble into a hasty attempt at holding you upright. Malendol is at your other side in an instant, helping her to support you with a firm arm around your waist.

“My Lord, please,” Malendol says, appalled. “She has been a loyal friend to us for a long time, one who cares for you greatly. How can you say such degrading words about her?”

“Was it not enough,” you burst out tearfully, holding up your bandaged hand, “that you crushed my fingers with Fëanor’s hammer? I believed it to be an accident, but... To have you question my virtue as well...?”

You dissolve into sobs. Your supposedly wounded hand flies to cover your face. The other one, Malendol takes in his, endlessly sympathetic.

The briefest brush of your husband’s mind through the bond you share tells you that the captain is unlikely to survive the siege.

A chuckle bursts from Celebrimbor’s throat, the sound of one driven to insanity. It is funny. All of it. The trouble for him is that you, your husband and Celebrimbor are the only ones who get the joke. And the poor smith is the butt of it.

“Let not yourselves be fooled by her false tears,” he strives, in vain, to convince them. “She has no shame, no care for any of us! Her heart is black—black as his blood.” He turns to your husband as if in sudden realization. “His blood... Cut him open!” he orders. “Look at his hand, see for yourselves!”

He’s nearly gleeful as he says it, genuinely believing he has found the answer to ending his torment. Some of the pity in your eyes is genuine as you look at him with the same dismayed expression as the others’. Your husband knits his brow, as innocent as ever—and lifts his hand to reveal a cut smeared with what appears to the others as utterly natural, perfectly ordinary red blood.

Any trace of hope is drained from Celebrimbor’s eyes. He stares, wordless, jaw quivering as your husband speaks in that calm and composed tone of his.

“You may speak of me as you wish, Celebrimbor. But I will not have you besmirch a kind Elf maiden’s honor, even out of frailty of mind,” says with great sadness Annatar, the divine messenger who has most certainly never laid one pristine finger upon your most demure self. “Please,” he addresses the guards, “escort him back to the forge.”

But the guards exchange glances, hesitating. It was one thing taking orders from your husband when it came to defending the city, but it appears they do not yet dare lay hands on their supposed true lord. They are very close, though, merely in need of the slightest nudge over the edge. Such as a word from their captain, but Malendol wavers, just as torn. Ensuring that you are indeed steady on your feet, he releases you and lays a hand on the hilt of the sword at his hip as if to ready himself, but hesitates to give the order. You exchange a nervous glance with Mirdania, who is still at your side, hands on your arm.

A nudge... over... the edge.

You wouldn’t even need the bond between your minds to know that you and your husband are thinking the exact same brilliantly awful thing.

You release a shuddering breath, leaning on Mirdania only the slightest bit more. At once, her hold on you tightens reassuringly.

“Come,” she says, beginning to tug you away, “let us get you some water.”

You nod, visibly grateful to follow her. You halt after a couple of steps, however, just as you are passing Celebrimbor, and turn to him as if with sudden determination. At your back stand Mirdania, a gap in the wall and the field of raging Orcs below, and before you is the smith glaring daggers filled with more disdain than you even imagined he possessed. You meet that scornful gaze with nothing but a pained smile.

“I forgive you, you know,” you murmur, only just loud enough for the guards to catch your words as well. “Get better soon, my dear friend.”

Whether it’s your words, imbued with such sickly saccharine affection, or the hand you lay upon his shoulder with utmost gentleness, Celebrimbor loses his last shred of restraint.

“Get your hands off me!” he roars.

It happens quickly, much too quick for anyone to notice exactly what occurred (as was, of course, your intention). Celebrimbor shoves you away with all his strength, causing you to crash into Mirdania, and—perhaps she might have been able to catch herself, if not for the flick of your husband’s wrist which makes her trip over her feet and tumble over the edge of the rampart, screaming all the way down into the Orc-riddled mud field below.

You certainly possess the power to keep your own balance, but you still yelp and stagger through the couple of backward steps that have you nearly slipping off the edge as well. Malendol, however, manages to catch you in the nick of time, as you had seen he was already desperately rushing to do. He yanks you toward him, and you collide with his chest only for your legs to play the part of finally giving out. The heroic captain keeps his hold on you as you crumble to the ground, hyperventilating.

Celebrimbor’s “No!” rings out as he stares down at the fallen Mirdania, but she is just as lost as any sympathy the guards still held for him. You scramble on your hands and knees to look over the edge just in time to see an Orc bring a hatchet down upon her, and shriek her name as you burst yet again into sobs. You keep them coming, loud and miserable, as Malendol helps you to your feet and you fall into his arms with enough force to push him a few steps back, burying your face in his neck.

Discreetly glancing over your shoulder, you see your husband speaking with Celebrimbor. But so loud are your cries, and so intent is Malendol on offering you words of comfort over them, that the others cannot hear their trusted Lord Annatar strip Celebrimbor of the last of his fight with a final threat. Finish the Nine, and I will spare your city.

This time, when your husband turns to the guards and repeats, “Escort him to the forge, please!” they comply without question.

It’s only once Celebrimbor is out of sight that you begin to quiet your sobs, pulling away from Malendol.

“It’s all right,” he comforts you, releasing you from his embrace but still resting his hands on your arms. “He shall trouble you no longer.”

“He meant to throw me over that wall,” you whisper, voice laced with terrible guilt. “Poor Mirdania died because of me!”

Your husband is standing a few feet away, gazing sorrowfully down to where Mirdania lies dead. He had, after all, made his preference of her quite apparent to the others. It would seem odd if he did not spare a moment to mourn.

“No, not because of you,” Malendol insists. “It was but the doing of Lord Celebrimbor’s troubled mind. You must not hold yourself responsible for anything he has done or said.”

“What he said... Oh, what he said!” you whisper, mortified, and lean closer to Malendol as if to conceal your words from your husband, “How am I to face Lord Annatar now?”

“Please,” your husband speaks, and you turn as if startled to find him coming to you with a most sympathetic gaze. “You have not the slightest reason to be ashamed. I only regret that you had to endure such vile accusations, and witness such tragedy. You must not blame yourself for it.”

“Such is her nature, my Lord,” Malendol says, his hand now at the small of your back in a gesture of kind support. “Of all the Elves in Eregion, she is least deserving of such scorn, and suffers the most for it.”

Oh. Between embracing you as you cried on his shoulder and the sheer affection in his voice as he sings you praises, he might as well have gone for a little tea with the Orcs, too. Forget the whole siege—now you doubt your husband will let him survive the hour.

Lord Annatar, however, offers the captain a most gracious smile.

“Thank you, captain,” he says, “for being a most loyal friend when your friendship was most needed. I shall see to it that your honourable deeds are well rewarded.”

Malendol bows his head respectfully, blissfully unaware that his ‘reward’ will very much resemble Mirdania’s.

“Performing one’s moral duty is a reward in itself, my lord. Come,” he turns to you, “let us bring you to safety.”

“No,” your husband says—a fraction of a second too quickly. The slip is much too brief to be caught and the recovery utterly seamless. “You are needed in battle, Captain Malendol. I shall see to it that she makes it safely back inside.”

Malendol exchanges a glance with you, and upon your slight nod, he says, “Of course.” As if on a sudden impulse, he turns to face you, taking your hand in his.

“Fear not, my friend. We shall prevail,” he vows. And leaves a gallant kiss on your knuckles before he takes his leave.

It’s all you can do to school your expression as you are left alone with your husband—well, ‘alone’ in the sense that no one’s focus is trained on you at the moment, but you can hardly risk one of the soldiers catching a glimpse of your triumphant smile when you had gone through so much trouble to earn their sympathy. As such, you meet your husband’s composed gaze with a somewhat shy one, quickly lowering your eyes as though you do not dare hold it for long.

He does not speak a word as he walks you back into the tower, never once attempts to place even so much as a guiding hand at the small of your back. There is the sound of destruction around you, the screams of Elves, but loudest in your mind is the tumultuous blend of emotions within your bond. So proud, so satisfied, so hungry for each other the high of victory in your wicked plans has made you, the very air thrums with the vibrancy of it.

And as if that was not potent enough, there is also that sweet possessive ire you love to rouse within each other, even when you are well aware that no being in existence could ever truly come between you. For them, to merely glance in longing at one of you is a death sentence from you both. Mirdania had sought out your husband’s touch, Malendol had dared embrace in comfort one who belongs solely in her husband’s arms. It matters not that they were allowed, even led into it. When you and your husband play such games, collateral damage is a given.

The moment you are inside the tower, you expect some kind of climax to the tension—you are most eager to be ravaged by its force, whether he should devour your lips to celebrate your flawless performance or crowd you against the wall to thoroughly replace the captain’s innocent touches with his ruinous ones.

But he does neither. He remains as impassive as though you are still being watched. Provoking you into lighting the fuse of the impending explosion yourself. Very well, then. You shall do so gladly.

“Pity about Mirdania, though,” you remark nonchalantly as you ascend the steps to the forge. “I would have liked to see her face when she realized the object of her little infatuation was the Dark Lord himself.”

“Fear not, my love,” your husband says, eerily calm and without looking back as he walks ahead of you. “We shall soon have the pleasure of a similar realization on Captain Malendol’s face, right before I run him through with his own sword.”

Unseen by him, you smirk.

“Well, he was rather eager to save my life,” you goad. “Perhaps he has earned the privilege to die in blissful ignorance after all.”

Only your footsteps fill the following silence until you reach the top of the stairs. You’ve barely climbed the last step when he turns around and—you yelp as your husband quite literally sweeps you off your feet, whisking you bridal style towards your bedchamber, instead of the forge. A giggle escapes you as you cling to him, quite pleased with the reaction you have elicited.

“Tell me, my love,” he says, kicking the door shut behind you, “what need have you of a common Elf captain to save you from falling,” you are unceremoniously released onto the bed, with your husband climbing over you not a moment later, “when you are bound to one of the Maiar who would sooner destroy the foundations of the earth than let you slip from his grasp?”

His hand is sliding up your thigh, lifting your dress on its way. He is a Maia possessed, caught between the high of triumph and the thrill of the chase at which you two so like to play, and you can hardly think of a witty answer when his fingers are only a breath away from where your flesh aches for his touch the most.

But a wicked thought prevails, and you shove him away with all your might. Still, it’s the shock of it rather than your force which knocks him to the side, allowing you to scramble off the bed. It’s almost comical, the half-confused, half-enraged look he gives you.

“Lord Annatar!” you gasp, ostentatiously doe-eyed and quite scandalized as you smooth down your dress in haste. “Surely you do not mean to lure me into some... ‘deranged coupling ritual’?” A little smile flashes through your little act while you savour Celebrimbor’s earlier words on your tongue. “And in the midst of a siege as well!”

You back away from him with slow, tantalizing steps, watching in delight as his gaze darkens in a deliciously sensual threat.

“You loved it, didn’t you?” he says, standing from the bed to walk towards you with all the patient grace of a wolf stalking prey. “Acting the innocent little maiden. Prone to fainting at the merest... suggestion of impropriety.”

His strides are larger than yours, and before long he is close enough to surge forward, swiftly closing the distance between you and grabbing hold of your neck with his blood-coated hand. You gasp as your back suddenly hits the wall, closer than you had realized it was, leaving you pinned between the cool stone and your husband’s body. Your hands fly to his wrist and his lips hover close to yours, teasing you with the promise of a kiss. You chase it just to be cruelly deceived as he evades your mouth, a wicked smile upon his as he lightly but decidedly pushes your head back against the wall.

“Be grateful, my innocent little smith, that there is a siege,” he says in a lurid whisper, releasing your throat to bunch up the skirt of your dress with both hands, “for your fellow Elves are far too distracted to hear you fall apart beneath my touch.” Your undergarments are pushed to the side, and you are so wound up that even the maddeningly light press of his fingers between your legs draws a loud whimper from you. Your husband leans into your ear as you shut your eyes, hips helplessly chasing the slow little circles he makes around your aching bud. “I should hate for anyone to ‘question your virtue’.”

His tongue makes a mockery of your own words from earlier, just before you feel its warmth at the hollow of your throat. You arch your neck as he licks upwards, long and slow, towards your jaw, gathering the blackness his wounded hand had smeared onto your skin. That same hand is now splayed over your rampant heart, holding you down as you fist your hands in the fabric of his garments and writhe with the pleasure he languidly stokes between your thighs. He kisses you, and when his tongue plunges past your lips, your mouth fills with the sweetly metallic taste of his blood, more intoxicating than the strongest liquor. You moan, long and wanton, whining for the firmer, faster, deeper touch he is withholding.

Your husband chuckles. It infuriates you.

“Oh, but you loved it too, didn’t you? When he—ah!” You suck in a sharp breath as he slips two long fingers inside you. Your wetness makes it easy, your body welcoming the familiar intrusion with nigh unbearable delight. It takes great willpower not to shut your eyes, to hold his gaze as he curls his fingers expertly, right where he knows it feels the most divine. “Did you not like it when he called me yours?” you insist, breathlessly. “Did you not want to show them yourself?”

If possible, his eyes darken even further, and his fingers pump inside you with more vigour. “Had it not been utterly counterproductive to our purpose,” he says, voice low and gruff, “I would have taken you right there upon the rampart and proved him right.”

The image is so sudden and vivid before your eyes, it pulls a pitiful mewl from your throat.

“I would have let you,” you gasp, and crush your lips to his with desperate abandon. “I want them to know.”

A guttural sound escapes his throat, and all of a sudden he withdraws his fingers, leaving you achingly empty. You think your legs might give out if it weren’t for his firm hold on you as he pulls you to the nearby window, twisting you around so that your back is against him and you plant your hands on the waist-level windowsill for support.

“Look,” he rasps out in your ear. “Do you see our soon-to-be army, my love? The very first of our devoted subjects?”

In the distance, Orcs holler crude names at each other, ready battle devices, send an endless rain of arrows over the walls of Eregion. It isn’t a pretty sight, but the terror it strikes in the hearts of their enemies and their power of destruction shall be wielded by you and your husband in the near future—and that is no small thing.

You nod, letting the thought sink in and add to the onslaught of elation already driving you wild. Your husband coils one arm around your stomach as the other wraps around your throat once more and he pulls you into him. Your bare folds meet his clothed erection, and you push back against him with a wanton moan, desperate for the friction.

“They shall be followed by Men,” he continues, rutting against you with animalistic greed, “and Dwarves, and Elves, until every single soul in Middle-Earth has been brought to their knees to worship at the feet of their King and Queen. Then, we shall at long last stand together before them all.”

“A love greater than ever was or ever will be,” you say, high-pitched and breathless, as if you are repeating words you have told yourself a thousand times. “All shall aspire to be us, yet none shall succeed.”

You are released abruptly. You hear the shuffle of fabrics, and sure enough, the swollen tip of him is soon nudging at your entrance.

“And how beautiful you shall be, my love,” your husband whispers, the sheer reverence in his voice a stark contrast to his lurid words, “with a crown upon your head, and my cock buried deep within you.”

He slides in to the hilt, quick and powerful, and you cry out. You could take him a million times, in a million different ways, and yet the perfect fit would never cease to steal your breath. He withdraws only to thrust back in, then again, setting a punishing rhythm which is nearly enough to obliterate any semblance of coherent thought from your mind. It would be so easy to let him plough into you just like this until you come undone, yet you crave something else. More.

“Wait,” you plead, planting a hand onto his hip to push him away. “Let me... let me...”

He does, letting himself slip from you with a rueful grunt. You turn to face him on unsteady legs, to look upon his face as you had so longed to—the only reason which had given you the will to interrupt your pleasure as you did. Your eyes never leave his as you seat yourself upon the windowsill, lifting your skirts once more. “I want all that,” you confess as he nestles his hips between your spread legs. “But I want you more.” He groans as you stroke his length, then guide the weeping tip back to your entrance. “I want it with you, or not at all.”

Your voice is so thin, it nearly chokes out at the end, your chest constricted with emotion—with the fear of being forced to let go as you have been before, always present in the deepest corner of your hearts. Something flickers in your husband’s gaze, the same anguish which wrenches at your soul.

“My love,” he breathes out the words as though they are the last thread by which his very existence hangs. “My love,” he vows and prays and fiercely claims as he nestles himself in your tight heat once more. You don’t know which sinks deeper into you—his swollen cock or the look in his eyes, which remain devastatingly locked with yours as he joins your flesh. Perhaps there is some innocence left in you to be ruined after all, for so raw and disarmed you are left by this union, tears spring in your eyes, slipping down your cheeks. Your husband gathers them with his lips and tongue as he rocks into you anew, far from gentle but less brutal than before, with deep, long thrusts that leave you too weak to sit up if it weren’t for his arms holding you to him.

Outside, the battle rages on. Inside, you fight to prolong this, to wring every last drop of the sweet torment that is your ascent to the peak of your pleasure. You lay a hand over your husband’s heart, feeling it hammer on in tandem with yours as he drives into you with increasing urgency. You are reduced to a string of incoherent mewls as you bury your face in your husband’s neck, mindlessly licking and biting at his skin.

His sounds of pleasure are less loud, but much deeper as they reverberate beneath your lips. You want more—so you fist your hand in his hair, with no mercy for the carefully-crafted bow at the back of his head. Crafted by you, on a playful whim the very morning before the siege began—he’d teased and claimed you were sure to ruin your own work the next time he would bed you. You don’t even think of that now, consumed by pleasure as you tug and pull with abandon, feeling the fair tresses come apart beneath your fingers. It drives your husband even wilder with lust than he already was, and he grabs your face to devour your lips as he spirals closer to his release.

Your own takes over you in an abrupt instant, right as your husband reaches between you to rub your swollen bud above where you are joined. You sob into his mouth, trembling as your hips thrash in a confused attempt to both escape and chase the unbearable height of pleasure thrust upon you.

Your husband fucks you through it, pulling you close and cooing in your ear, calling you his and ‘love’ and all sorts of adoring things in Black Speech through his own heavy breaths. Your name falls from his lips in a ragged moan as he finds his pleasure, and you feel it echo through your bond with nearly as much power as your own. His seed will not take unless he wills it so, and neither of you wish for that, but you still clench around him longingly, greedy to draw every last drop of him as deep within yourself as possible, because it is him. You’d spend each second of your life with him inside of you, if not for the impracticality of it.

Once spent, your husband remains as he is, simply holding you to him. He cradles your head in his hands, pressing sweet kisses to your hair, and you are too weak to do anything but sag against him whilst you regain your breath.

“Why, Lord Annatar,” you whisper, smiling tiredly, “I’m starting to suspect you might have impure intentions towards me after all.”

He gives a soft chuckle, pulling away to look at you. “Whatever gave you that idea, my lady?”

The innocuous words are followed by your husband gently withdrawing himself from you, leaving a great, leaking mess between your legs. The only response you can give is a soft groan as his fingers gather some of his spend from your sensitive folds, and gently press it back inside of you where it belongs. With a small, satisfied hum, he steps away to tuck himself back into his garments. You press your legs together, sighing contently at the delightful ache left in the aftermath of your lovemaking.

“However will you keep up this innocent act of yours,” your husband muses, “now that I shall be dripping down your beautiful thighs with every step you take?”

“Please,” you say coyly, standing up and fixing your dress as though your undergarments are not soaked beyond hope beneath it, and your legs don’t still feel a bit unsteady. “I’ve managed before.”

He smiles knowingly. “Indeed, you have.” He pulls you close by the waist, as if you haven’t just parted from one another. “Always so eager to wear me,” he praises, and there is nothing insincere about your flustered little smile now. It’s true that you delight in wearing what he gives you, whether it be his spend nestled between your legs or a less secretive gift. Which reminds you of the gift you had given him to wear. You lay a hand on his cheek and coax him to turn his head silghtly, pouting when you glimpse the mess of tangled tresses you have made in his hair.

“You were right,” you admit, somewhat regretful, “I did ruin the bow.”

“Like the merciless creature that you are,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. When you pull back, his appearance has already been restored. It isn’t quite as meaningful, now that his power did the work instead of your hands, but you suppose you’ve been gone long enough already. Now that your hunger for each other has been sated, your husband shares that sentiment.

“Come, now,” he says, taking your hand and making for the door. “I believe Celebrimbor is in need of encouragement with his work.”

“What are we, if not encouraging?” you quip, and gladly follow his lead.

Previous fic with same reader -> Reveal

Next fic with same reader -> Old wounds

[paulyenvol6]

Getting it over with

Daemon x Stark!Reader (OS)

It is your wedding night and all you can think of is doing your job as quickly as possible. Your husband has different plans though and tries everything to show you that sex can be more than a marital duty.

Contains: dub con, detailed smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, gagging, biting, dom & mean Daemon, first time, slight humiliation, dirty talk, crying, angst, arranged marriage, inexperienced reader

Wordcount: ~3.58k

Masterlist

You faced the ceiling as you laid in this strange bed with the strange sheets underneath you.

The smell was different as well, as there was no trace of the familiar vanilla scent of your own bed. But perhaps you wouldn't have to get used to it. You had to provide your husband an heir, that was your duty but afterwards mayhaps you could live your lives separately.

You didn't desire to get to know him nor spend any more second than necessary in his presence. You just wanted to get this over with, preferrably have him plant his heir inside you tonight and then remain in your own chambers at night. With your familiar vanilla scent.

So now there you laid, stiff as a stick and only wearing your night gown. It had been the first thing you had done when you had entered your husband's room, you had taken off your gown, changed into the thin exposing night dress and laid down on his bed. You approached this whole matter pragmatically and tried not to listen to your emotions or fears. It was your marital duty to perform the act of bedding and though you were so scared of it that tears threatened to spill from your eyes any second, you would do it. You would have him do it as quickly as possible and then your job would be done. For tonight at least.

And then the door opened and seconds later the Rogue Prince stood in front of his bed and observed you with a smug look on his face. His eyes traveled down your body, unshamingly regarding every spot of skin that his eyes could reach.

"Wife.", he spoke and you adjusted yourself on the bed expecting him to climb on top of you any second. But Daemon just slowly sighed and crossed his arms in front of his chest when you pulled at your gown in order to prevent it from wrinkling.

"Do it.", you said and stared at him fiercely.

"Do what?", he hissed with small eyes.

"Claim me. Let's just get it over with quickly." To your surprise your husband chuckled. "Oh sweet girl."

You frowned and lifted yourself on your elbows. "Please. I just want to be done with it." Daemon came a step closer to you and towered over your lying figure. "Touch yourself.", he whispered and your frown deepened.

"What?"

"Run your finger through your slit. Do it." You were confused but obeyed him, feeling curious about what his intentions were so you slipped your hand under your night gown and ran a finger through your folds.

"So?", he asked and you confusingly looked up to him. "Did you find any wetness?" You shook your head and hated that you were so intimidated by his presence.

"There you go. If I just fucked you like this now and here, I'd tear you apart, little one."

You widened your eyes but swiftly collected yourself again. "I don't care, just do it. Please, I can take it."

Daemon scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You may think so but no. I think I've deflowered a few more maidens than you have and I consider myself a little more learned than you."

You frowned feeling discontent because this night wasn't going as you had planned at all. You were sulking and watched Daemon as he took off his shirt and revealed his strong chest. Then he approached you again.

"You're my wife now. And even though you are a stubborn little brat I don't want my sheets to be soaked with your blood."

But you were still pouty and had already made up your mind. When Daemon reached out to caress the side of your face you hissed out and pushed his hand away which made him lift his eyebrows. He tried again and this time attempted to soothingly stroke your thigh but you denied him and pulled away.

He paused for a second and then roughly took hold of your wrists with his left hand while his right reached out and grabbed your hair. He pinned your hands down over your head and crawled to lay on top of you. You squirmed trying to fight him off but you didn't stand a chance.

"Listen to me.", he growled and his mouth came close to your ear. "I'm doing this for you, you stupid brat. I could just fuck you now, play my part and you probably wouldn't stop crying from the pain. You have no idea what you're asking of me so trust me and let me take care of it."

But how were you supposed to trust Daemon? You didn't know him and you had barely talked to him before your wedding. So you remained unwilling and tried to free your chin from his grip but Daemon was stronger and didn't let go of you.

"N-No.", you whined and shifted underneath him but his body held you in place. He pressed your wrists in the sheets over your head and his hand that was now on your jaw didn't allow you to move your head around.

"Why won't you let me help you?", Daemon hissed.

"I don't want you to help me.", you sulked and didn't stop fighting him off. His right hand that had been on your chin finally let go and he instead yanked your hair back so your neck was exposed to him. He came close to your skin with his mouth.

"If you won't stop resisting me I'll do what you're asking me to do and believe me, little one, you don't want this. You're a virgin and you fucking need to be prepared for my cock. So will you just stay still while I try to make this a pleasant experience for you?"

Tears welled up in your eyes but you started to feel like you were on the edge of giving up. You were tired and at a point where you didn't really care anymore what would happen. So you didn't answer him and stopped squirming which Daemon took as a sign to start kissing you skin. At first you tried your best to ignore him and stubbornly stared at the ceiling while his mouth devoured your neck. You didn't want to, you didn't want to get involved in this and allow yourself to feel any kind of pleasure. You had sworn yourself to do the minimum of what you were supposed to and then ignore your husband to live your life the way it had been before. You would endure whatever it was he was doing and under no circumstances show him that you liked any of this or that you enjoyed his touch.

So you didn't let out a sound while his hand that had held your wrists slowly reduced its force and soon his hand just laid on top of yours. Quickly you pushed his hand away but instead he now ran it over the side of your body. You showed your displeasure when Daemon's mouth traveled up to kiss your lips and you bit him in his lower lip. You tasted blood and to your delight felt him twitch. Then you felt his left hand grab your chin once again and he forced you to look at him.

"You're a little beast. But I think you yearn to be tamed." With wet eyes you tried to shake your head under his grip and tensed when Daemon's right hand ran from your belly up to your chest.

"Just relax and enjoy it, seven hells.", Daeon growled when he felt your twitching. "I'm not gonna hurt you, I want the opposite."

"But I don't want what you're doing. I told you, I wanted this to be happening quickly.", you snapped and determinedly stared up to him.

He rolled his eyes. "But it's what's best for you."

So his hand remained on your chest and he started to run his finger over the swell of your breasts. When his finger circled your nipple through the thin fabric of your gown you felt goosebumps on your arms which satisfied Daemon. At last you felt something when he touched you. But your mouth remained tense and your arms laid close to your body, refusing to touch him. You kept staring at the ceiling as he leaned down to kiss your neck while his hands worked on your chest. It didn't feel unpleasant but you wouldn't allow yourself to enjoy it. So you told yourself that you hated it, Daemon was the enemy and you wanted this to end as quickly as possible.

After a while your husband thought it was time to expose you to him so he grabbed the straps of your gown and pulled the dress down. A cool breeze hit your nipples and you shivered. You watched his lustful gaze on your chest and suddenly you felt very exposed and vulnerable. With a look on your face Daemon sensed it and softly caressed your cheek.

"It's fine. Let go, love." But determinedly you shook your head and he sighed. He lowered his head and his tongue started to toy with your hardened nipples which made you breathe heavily. You were sensitive there and your body responded to him though you didn't like it. You still laid stiff and didn't even want to look down but then Daemon kissed his way further south until he had reached your lower belly.

"Lift your hips.", he whispered in an attempt to finally get rid of your night gown that still covered what laid between your legs but you shook your head.

"Can't you do it with my gown on?" Your husband exhaled loudly and wiped away the traces of your tears on your skin.

"It'd be hard." You just looked at him with a mixture of sadness and fear and stubbornness. And you didn't. You refused to obey him until Daemon simply ripped your dress apart and you flinched.

"It was expensive.", you snapped and he smirked. "I'll buy you a new one."

You were bare underneath him now and pressed your legs together.

"Will you do it now finally?", you asked with flashing eyes and he looked pitiful.

"I don't get why you're so eager to refuse my help.", he spoke while toying with strands of your hair. "I'll make you come now, little one. So you're all wet and nice for my cock and it will be less painful for you."

With fear in your eyes you looked up to him. "What will you do?"

"Shhh.", he made and soothingly ran his hands over your hips. "Just close your eyes and relax."

Though you were confused you obeyed him at last and rested your head on the pillow while you felt him crawl between your legs. You felt odd spreading your legs for him but when he pushed them apart you followed his gesture and he could take a look at your cunt. You weren't exactly wet yet though he could see a little glistening by your entrance. You looked at him anxiously and saw him dive between your thighs. You felt him lick from your hole up to a spot you hadn't know to exist to this moment. You widened your eyes in shock and had to surpress a moan that threatened to leave your mouth. Daemon had his eyes on you though and saw in your reaction that you weren't unaffected by his touch.

You tried to collect yourself and for a moment it worked but soon you couldn't help but get lost in the pleasure you were receiving. You really had tried everything, wanted to resist, you were too stubborn to admit that he might have been right with what he had been saying all along but after a few minutes you left out a quiet whimper which made him smirk.

"I knew I'd be able to tame you, little one.", he whispered and you wanted to push him away and press him closer to you at the same time. So you chose to pull at his hair which he commented with a grunt. His tongue devoured your cunt, his tongue drew patterns and circles around this mysterious nub while spreading your wetness all over your folds.

And everything became worse the longer your husband continued. You restlessly shifted on the bed, threw your head to the sides and clenched your fists, still too proud to give in and touch his shoulders or arms. Your mouth formed an 'O' and you hated that he watched for your reactions. You had also started to move your hips along with his movement but you were restriced because his hands held your hips down.

"Please.", you whispered and it almost sounded inaudible but still, he had heard it.

"What was that?", he asked with a wide smirk on his face. You were pouty, refused to look in his eyes but Daemon had heard it and wanted to tease you a little so he stopped licking your cunt and your eyes immediately fell on him.

"W-What are you doing.", you asked panicky and he caressed your thigh.

"Say it again.", he breathed and you squirmed shaking your head. "Oh yes you will. Because I'll stop if you don't."

"I don't care.", you hissed but he could see the movement of your legs and your shivering. You were lustful and needy and it would be a matter of time until you said and did whatever Daemon wanted.

"Go on.", he demanded again.

You moved against him but your husband refused to give you any sort of friction which made you moan in dissatisfaction. You were defeated and closed your eyes because you knew as much as you wanted to remain strong you couldn't. You needed to feel him again so you opened your mouth.

"P-Please.", you whispered and a content smile appeared on his face.

"There we go. I knew you could be a good girl." Daemon kept his promise and lowered his head again to lick over your little pearl and after a few seconds you had forgotten everything about his teasing because his tongue drove you to heaven. He circled your nub, gently took it between his teeth and flicked it.

"Ughh.", you whined and felt like you were about to burst. Then, after a few more minutes of his dance on your pearl his hand wandered to your hole and without a warning he shoved two fingers inside you. You shrieked feeling a pain in your core and your eyes sprang open. Your walls were pulsating and the stretch brought tears in your eyes.

"Oww.", you made and he looked up to your sternly. "You see? This was only my fingers and you are soaking wet. What do you think it would've felt like if I had shoven my cock inside your dry hole?"

You didn't answer and turned your face away but Daemon wanted something else.

"No. I want you to tell me that you were wrong." Your eyes fluttered and you raised your chin but at this point you were beyond turned on and needy for him and so you obeyed him.

"I was wrong.", you whispered but still didn't look at him. "You were right."

He grinned and ran his thumb over your lower lip. "Good girl. I knew you just needed someone to tell you what to do. My good little obedient wolf."

Daemon moved his fingers slowly out of you again and then back in until they hit deep inside you. You whimpered and felt your legs shaking while his tongue was occupied with circling your nub again.

"Please. Please, Daemon.", you whispered having problems forming a whole sentence. He was so smug about it and contently kept his mouth connected to your cunt until he moved the fingers that had previously been buried inside you to your mouth. When you understood what he wanted you determinedly shook your head but Daemon ran his fingers over you lips.

"Open, little one." But you were stubborn and refused him.

"I said open.", he repeated but you wouldn't give in so you just pressed your lips together.

All of a sudden Daemon's left hand reached to your chin and grabbed it forcefully. You were so surprised that he was able to open your mouth and he shoved his fingers inside of your mouth. Discontently you bit him and in response he simply thrusted them deeper inside of your throat until you gagged.

"Next time it'll be my cock you gag on.", he threatingly hissed and you gulped loudly trying to breathe through your nose so you wouldn't gag.

It felt uncomfortable and you wished he would remove his fingers but Daemon wanted to feel your throat a little longer so he moved them in and out of you. You choked, coughed and then after a few more moments he pulled his fingers out again and caressed your lip.

"Pretty.", he merely spoke and then his mouth finally went back to stimulating your pearl again. It was now only a matter of minutes and then you were finally sent over the edge. The tension in your thighs and lower belly expanded and spread all over your body and you felt like you were exploding but in the best way possible. You moaned loudly and cried his name out until you collapsed on your back and panted uncontrolled. Your closed your eyes in exhausion and felt your husband's mouth pull away from your cunt. For a second nothing happened but then your calm was interrupted because you felt him crawl on top of you. Your eyes fluttered and you saw his face through half-closed eyes.

"You've been a very good girl.", he whispered and kissed your forehead. "Ready for my cock?"

You could only nod and felt him reaching down between your bodies. There was definitely some fear inside you now and you felt your senses coming back when you felt his tip on your entrance.

"Daemon.", you whispered panicky and grabbed his arm.

"What?", your husband asked and looked at you.

"P-Please. Be gentle."

He smirked and took hold of your cheek. "I will be, my sweet wolf."

With these words you felt him circle your hole and then he pushed into you. Tears gathered in the corner of your eye but you didn't allow them to spill. You hissed at the pain in your lower belly and looked at Daemon with widened eyes. Your breathing was quick and chaotic and he caressed the side of your head to calm you.

"Shhh. You can take it, my brave girl. Just breathe." His words helped you a lot and after a while Daemon started to move. At first it felt uncomfortable again but soon he had a slow and deep pace which made you gasp for air now and then but you felt a lot more comfortable.

"Good girl.", he panted against you ear. "Who would've thought you just needed a cock inside of you in order to be an obedient and willing little thing."

You whined, too overwhelmed with everything to answer him so Daemon took it as a reply and his hand grabbed your hair to yank it back and have better access to your neck. His cock steadily thrusted in and out of you and soon your cunt felt a little sore but you didn't care. You were just focused on his cock and Daemon's face and his hands on you and everything else became unimportant.

Soon his hand reached between your bodies and he started to circle your pearl again which made you melt under his body. Your little nub was overstimulated and swollen so at first you squirmed underneath him but Daemon's finger didn't leave it and soon his touch made your legs shake.

Meanwhile he kissed your neck and made sure to leave marks. Now and then you heard him moan in pleasure which only contributed to your lust. But when both of you started to approach your high Daemon lifted his head to watch your face when you came. He felt you clench around you and sensed that you were close so his finger moved faster around your pearl until you broke down and whimpered out. You closed your eyes, your face tensed and you breathed heavily while Daemon came as well and shot his seed deep inside you.

He had collapsed on top of you and his weight pressed you into the bed which felt very comfortable for some reason. You were both gasping for air and after your second high of the night you just felt exhausted at this point so you couldn't help but close your eyes.

But when Daemon had regained his strength he rolled off you and you were left feeling vulnerable and exposed but too tired to do anything about it. So you moaned in displeasure which your husband commented with a scoff. He knew what you were asking though and eventually grabbed the blanket of his bed to cover your naked body with it. You smiled while watching Daemon get comfortable as well.

"Well, I hope this night has turned out more pleasant than you expected.", he said and you scratched your head. "I guess. Yes."

He turned to you and watched you with raised eyebrows. "

Thank you.", you mumbled with blood rushing up in your cheeks. "You were right, it was more comfortable doing it like this."

Your husband smirked smugly and you lowered your gaze. "You're very welcome, dear lady wife. But you should get some sleep now." You nodded, pulled your blanket to your chin and then closed your eyes. "Sleep well."

[camlovesjace]

BASTARD ! J.V

summary: As his son reaches four namedays Jace cannot longer ignore the whispers of the people, how it seemed too "obvious" to everyone that his own child -the one his wife had gave him- was a bastard and he could not longer bear hear of that. warnings: swearing, use of bad words, argue, p in v, aggressive/possessive jace, NOT cheating.

He slammed the door which caused the maidens to ran away as soon as they could, Haena sighs and left her cup of tea over the edge of the table. No one was into their bedchambers at this hour but the princess was sure her husband's deep breaths were being heard by the whole island.

"They said it again?" she asked, only causing Jace to throw the things off of the table, including her cup.

"Those fucking traitors" he shouted, Haena get up from her chair and walked towards him, trying to bring him some solace by caressing his tense shoulders. And it worked "I will cut their tongues one by one before the dawn"

"Jacaerys" she whispers and he moves his hand up, almost in a plea for her to not give him another sermon about the mercy a future king should have. Like she had done before.

"He´s mine..." Jacaerys says, his jaw clenching. Their child had blonde hair, the same as any other Targaryen before him, the same as his mother has "He´s mine in every single sense of the damned word"

"You know he is, who cares what others think?" his wife asks, her smaller hands caressing his back, trying to light the tension on his body.

"I care" he says, taking a deep breath. His face was warm, and his hands were closed into a fist, over the big and now empty table "This rumors, it will haunt him...as much as mines haunt me until this days. You don't know how is to grew up with the shadow of bastardy over your shoulder..."

Haena sighs and rest his chin on the shoulder of her husband, her hands moving to his chest but she could still feel the anger under the sadness of his words. The need to protect their child, his heir, from those who could want to haim him.

"You're mine too" he says, and she nods but he breaks the hug to turn around and pull her into his arms, his hands squeezing the flesh of everything he could reach "You heard me? You´re mine, and every child of your womb is fucking mine too"

She gasp when he kisses her, his lips devouring hers with a hunger of a starved man. She have had the pleasure of feel how his rage turned into something more primal when it comes to her, of course she have had the pleasure...the last time she did her stomach grew swollen with his child. Their only child...yet.

His hands moves to her dress, pulling it out desperately, leaving her bare and exposed over the table, his fingertips moving to her throat to hold her in place as his lips returns to hers. She moaned and her cunt squeezed on a delicious ways, excited to take him in once again.

She could feel how she started getting wet by the just thought of her husbands cock, that inviting cock that always made her come undone into his arms. Yet it seemed like Jace had other plans, when his hands leaved her throat to push her down the table, his gentle movement were a dark contrast to the roughness she knows she will get from him tonight.

His tongue played with the hard and sensitive nipples, she closed her eyes and buried her fingertips on his dark curls, the curls her child had. His mouth leaved her breast after a few, his mouth desperate to taste the sweetness of her cunt. Jace could feel his cock beating and getting warm as the seconds past, the fabric of his pants getting tighter as his mouth found his wife´s womanhood.

He moaned against her cunt and she arched her back against the wood of the table, he left out a small chuckle, laughing at the thought of people thinking his wife was taking someone else's seed instead of his own.

"Like if i could let anyone else seeing you like this, all bare and whimpering for more of my damn cock or tongue" he said and she smiled as his words, enjoying a lot his dirty talk. Two of his fingers fucked her with not announcement in such a deliciously way that made her cry out his name, he moved them in and out, caressing her core and feeling how her walls tried to milk them out.

Yet he was not for teasing, he needed something and he was just preparing her. His hand leaved her and the way he pulled back slightly made her gasp is frustration, her noises making him chuckle.

"I'm gonna ate your cunt all night darling, but now i want you to take my seed once again, okay?" he said and she nodded, then she sees how he pulls his pants down, leaving his hard cock at the sight. She moaned and then he took her hips, pulling her closer to the edge of the table.

"You'll make me another baby?" she asks, almost mocking him, but that was all she wanted. Their only child was four name days now, she needed to have another of his child, many of them if the god´s wanted to.

He slipped in, his curved cock against her soaked and thigh walls, the tip of it hitting that sweet spot on her cunt only him knew where it was, she whimper his name over and over as his hips started moving with more urgency and desperation, his movements almost brutal making her bounce over his body, his cock moving in and out of her and the slaps of their thighs together created a sinful song in the silence of their bedchambers.

Her hands rested on the back of his neck, as he buried his face in the valley of her breast, making her shiver as his teeth and tongue toyed with her nipples. His grip on her hips was almost bruising and, when she thought he could no do it better, he quicken his pace.

She was sure her cries of pleasure were being heard by everyone on this damn island, yet she could not find any reason to care about it, she found no shame in letting everyone know her husband made her squirm on his arms, his thum rolled over her swollen pearl and soon her release came.

She did not wanted to cum so soon, not when she could feel how his cock was still deliciously hard inside her but she also knew shell have more of him tonight.

His head moved up, his nose against her as she felt how his seed spilled against her squeezing walls, filling her womb. He moved his hips, wanting to take his cum deeper into her cunt, wanting to make her swollen with a child of his again.

"Let's show all those morons that all of my children will have your pretty blonde hair, my queen" he whispers, his nose against hers and his words making her smile. She nodded and sighed, then she felt him lifting her up, walking towards their bed.

She knows tonight they'll make another heir, his determination is enough to make her feel like she could live being her husband's whore.

TAG LIST ! @nebulamorada

[captain-hawks]

till one of us caves

atsumu miya x f!reader

In which Osamu asks his brother to keep you company while you're closing the shop alone one night. And it wouldn't be an issue...if Atsumu wasn't the bane of your goddamn existence ever since your stupid drunken hookup years ago.

wc: 3.7k

c: 18+, smut, enemies to lovers speed run, the complete and utter defilement of onigiri miya (sorry osamu), miscommunication, fingering, unprotected p in v, atsumu is down so bad and also he's an idiot, protective!atsumu, miya twin banter, best friend!osamu

“Absolutely not.”

Osamu pauses in the middle of counting cash at the register and glances up to follow where your narrowed gaze is focused—a head of blonde hair on its way through the front doors of Onigiri Miya. 

“I didn’t want ya closin’ alone,” Osamu replies, returning his attention to the stack of bills in his hand. 

“Hey dickhead, I hope yer feedin’ me for this!”

Instant headache. 

Instant fucking headache. 

You let out a long-suffering, exaggerated sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’re only leaving an hour early. I can handle this alone, Osamu. I promise.”

Osamu closes the register, turning around to look at you with his arms crossed. “It’s a Saturday night. I don’t like you dealin’ with the drunk stragglers by yourself.”

Glancing around, you pick up the only vaguely threatening object within arm’s length—a plastic spork. “I know self defense.”

Raising an eyebrow, Osamu glances from your face to the small utensil clutched between your fingers. “Wouldn’t be the first time Tsumu’s been stabbed with a spork,” he mutters. 

“Fooooooooooood,” said twin dramatically whines, plastering himself across the counter like a fainting Victorian maiden. 

“Get yer sweaty ass offa there,” Osamu grunts, snapping a rag against Atsumu’s arm. 

He yelps, muttering something under his breath before finding a normal sitting position on the stool. 

“Alright, now get outta here so you’re not late for your date,” Atsumu chides, running a hand through his hair. 

It’s obnoxious, actually—the way he still manages to look infuriatingly attractive even with his sweaty bleach-blonde hair sticking up in every direction, his face still flushed and voice a little hoarse from practice. At the very least, he had the decency to toss on a clean black tee with MSBY emblazoned in large gold letters across the back. 

You hate Atsumu Miya and his stupidly perfect face. 

And his calves—who the fuck has calves that nice. 

You also hate Osamu, your best friend and boss, for unceremoniously dumping your least favorite Miya into your lap at 8 o’clock on a Saturday night. 

“It’s not a date,” Osamu yells from the office, walking out with a jacket slung over his shoulder.

“Looks like ya showered for once today, dirtbag,” Atsumu shoots back, mouth full of rice. “Sounds like a date to me.”

“Choke,” Osamu deadpans as he heads for the door, “…but not in here. Don’t have time for all that paperwork.”

Atsumu salutes his brother as you stand in the middle of the shop with your hands wrapped around the broom. 

“Can’t promise what kind of paperwork you’re gonna have to do after leaving us alone together,” you mutter. 

Osamu leans in, patting the side of your face. “Just promise me you’ll mop up the blood.”

—

You’ve known the Miya twins for years now, though it was Osamu that you first became friends with after a shared class in your second year of university. 

Atsumu was more like the miserable cold that you accidentally bring home from vacation. 

The miserable cold who you’re instantly, stupidly attracted to from the moment his brother introduces him to you. Who you end up drunkenly making out with in bed after a party one night. 

Who passes out midway through and disappears before you’re awake the next morning.  

Who had a fucking girlfriend at the time, unbeknownst to you. Knowledge courtesy of Osamu, who nearly undeservingly took a textbook to the head when he told you. 

Who, to this day, three years later, has never even acknowledged that it happened. 

It wouldn’t have been so bad if you hadn’t been harboring a stupid crush on him for months. And if perhaps you’d been a little more drunk, enough to forget the taste of his lips, the press of his fingertips into your hips. But naturally, that little hiccup drove an irrevocable wedge between the two of you, leading you to regard the blonde Miya in a perpetually antagonistic manner until the end of time. 

Such is life.

“I think you might rile ‘im up better than even I can nowadays,” Osamu had observed once, after Atsumu balked in aggravation when you returned from picking up everyone’s fast food orders and handed him a kid’s meal instead. 

Atsumu, never one to back down from a challenge, met your piss poor attitude in spades, going so far as to barge in on your dates on occasion, plopping right down at the table and obnoxiously stuffing whatever appetizer was in front of him into his mouth like you’d invited him. 

—

Surprisingly, despite the restaurant’s minimal square footage, the two of you manage to avoid one another for the next forty-five minutes—Atsumu quietly sits at a table watching game replays on his phone while you wipe down the counters. 

You almost forget he’s there, until the bell above the door dings to announce what’ll probably be the last customer of the night. 

And—fuck. 

Osamu kicked this guy out last week when he wouldn’t take no for an answer after you refused to give him your number. 

“Hey pretty girl,” a tipsy voice slurs as the man settles down at the counter. 

“Sorry, we’re about to close,” you tell him, not looking up from the pile of receipts you’re sorting on the other side. 

“S’not why I’m here,” he chuckles. 

Take a hint, buddy. 

“We’re closing soon,” you repeat firmly. 

A hand grasps your wrist, and you yelp as he murmurs, “What’re you doing after this?”

“Get your fuckin’ hands off of her, and get the fuck out,” a cold voice interrupts. 

A hand clamps down firmly on the man’s shoulder, and you watch the pain flit across his face as fingertips dig into his collarbone. 

“Now,” Atsumu adds, his voice so harsh it brokers no room for argument. 

You may call yourself an expert in Miya antagonization. But as you look at Atsumu’s stormy, furious expression, the tense set of his jaw, you realize that you’ve never seen him truly angry. 

Not like this. 

The man quickly gets up from the stool, putting his hands up in front of him as he stumbles backward and says, “I didn’t mean anything by it, man.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Atsumu replies, his voice low. “I’m sure my brother was a real nice guy when he told ya to leave last time. I ain’t nice. Don’t fuckin’ come back here.”

The silence is deafening when the front door swings shut, broken only by the sound of Atsumu twisting the lock into place and flipping the sign to CLOSED. Your heart, meanwhile, is frantically pounding in your chest. 

Atsumu wasn’t even here when that happened last week, which means Osamu must have told him for whatever reason, and…

“You alright?”

Atsumu interrupts you from your thoughts, and you glance up to find a disarmingly concerned expression burrowed into his features. 

“Yeah…thanks,” you exhale, quickly turning around to busy yourself with anything but staring at the downward curve of his lips. 

You have all of ten seconds to yourself before Atsumu comes to stand beside you behind the counter, idly tidying a pile of napkins as he explains, “Samu was worried that creep might come back, so he was gonna cancel his plans tonight so you wouldn’t be alone if he did. I told him I’d come make sure ya were alright.”

You’re not sure why, but suddenly, you’re angry. 

You’re really fucking angry.

Maybe it’s because you’re a little raw in the wake of the adrenaline rush from that uncomfortable encounter, a little shaken by the stranger’s boldness and the way Atsumu stepped in without a second thought.   

Maybe you swear it looked like Atsumu was about to reach out to you afterward, his hand falling back to his side in an aborted gesture between one breath and the next. 

“Since when do you care if I’m alright, Atsumu?”

Atsumu startles beside you. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you led me on years ago and nearly fucked me at a party—you probably would have, if you didn’t pass out in my bed halfway through taking off your pants. You disappeared the next morning, failed to inform me that you had a girlfriend, and then conveniently acted like it never fucking happened.”

He stares at you, mouth slightly agape. “I’m sorry, I what now?”

You turn to face him fully, crossing your arms, an incredulous look on your face. “You’re joking, right?”

“Was that…oh….” Atsumu scratches the back of his head, trailing off. “That’s the night I blacked out.”

“I mean yeah, you were kind of trashed.”

“No, like that’s the night that made me realize I had to cut back on drinking. I’ve got no memory of what happened. Zero. Haven’t drank that much since.”

“So was it not concerning that you woke up in my bed?” you ask, brows furrowed. 

“I hardly knew ya back then. Didn’t even know that was your dorm room, and you were hoggin’ all the covers. Couldn’t even see yer face before I panicked and crawled my hungover, half-dead ass back to me and Samu’s.”

Well, this is certainly news to you. 

“…and Osamu never told you.”

Well, why would he, after you spent two hours bitching to him about it and then threatened to never speak to him again if he made the situation even more embarrassing by telling Atsumu you were upset. 

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p for emphasis before sobering a bit as he says in a more serious tone, “I’m sorry. For doing that to you, and for forgetting that it happened.”

You reach out, punching Atsumu in the shoulder. 

“The fuck was that for?” he exclaims. 

“So why have you been such an insufferable jackass all these years?”

Atsumu raises his eyebrows, looking affronted. “You haven’t exactly been a ray of sunshine either, sweetheart.”

Well, true. 

But still. 

(You try to ignore what the stupid pet name does to your heart, which is currently in the midst of a traitorous backflip inside of your chest.)

“At least I didn’t barge in and ruin your dates for no reason,” you glare. 

“That was like, twice,” Atsumu defends himself. “Maybe three times.”

You stare at him. 

“The fourth time doesn’t count, that guy was a dickhead. Samu wanted to punch ‘im, too.”

“You ate an entire basket of breadsticks.”

Atsumu shrugs, taking a step closer to you. “They’re bottomless for a reason.”

You’re not sure when it happened, but you’re pressed up against the prep counter in the back of the shop, and one of Atsumu’s hands is resting on the cool metal surface beside your hip. Not quite touching you, but you swear you can feel the heat of him all the same. 

“You ruined my dates for breadsticks?” you ask quietly, holding his gaze. 

Atsumu’s thumb twitches, and you feel the featherlight touch through your jeans. “I ruined your dates because I was jealous.”

Blood rushes in your ears, your mind struggling to comprehend the rush of emotion flooding through you. Embarrassment, elation, shock, annoyance—and something else, something with a darker, richer edge. 

Something that has the next words tumbling from your lips before you can stop them, “Did you think doing that was going to make me take you home and fuck you instead?”

Atsumu has the decency to flush, but he only further closes the gap between your bodies, his nose brushing against yours as he replies, “I hated how much you hated me. And I hated how much I still wanted you.”

“You’re an idiot, Miya.”

He laughs. 

He laughs, and it’s a low, rich sound that dances down your spine and curls up low in your belly.

“Yeah, yer probably right,” he exhales, his breath hot against your lips. “I should probably find another tactic.”

“I’ve heard drunken hookups work wonders,” you sigh, voice tinged with sarcasm. 

His free hand comes to rest on your other side, effectively caging you in. “I’d have to be a fuckin’ idiot to fumble the bag with you twice.”

“Who said I’m still interested?” you reply, putting an inch of space back between your mouths, if only for the sake of your own sanity. 

Atsumu hums. “I do have eyes, ya know.”

You don’t miss a beat, “Maybe I’m secretly dating your brother, and I just objectively like the look of your face, as his twin. Like a natural, biological reaction.”

“Yer not datin’ Samu,” Atsumu replies evenly. “He couldn’t handle ya.”

You glare at him. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

Atsumu smirks at your indignation. “You’re outta his league.”

“And what exactly is my league?”

“Some stupid, sweaty pro volleyball player whose got it pretty damn bad for ya, who would settle for a hate fuck at this point if that’s all ya wanna give him.”

You know Atsumu clocks the way your breath hitches in your throat, the slight widening of your pupils that you can’t disguise at the bald, shameless truth of his words.  

The look on his face is so ridiculously endearing, you want to kiss it right off. 

Pushing yourself upward with your palms, you sit up on the counter, and Atsumu shifts forward to stand between your legs.

“Osamu would kill us.”

His nose caresses yours again, and he rests one hand on the side of your face. “For doing something other than fightin’? He’d throw a party.”

“For turning Onigiri Miya into a house of ill repute.”

Atsumu chokes.

“But there’s just one little thing, Atsumu,” you continue. 

“What’s that?” he asks carefully, each word a huff of warm air dancing across your mouth. 

You exhale, shuddering at the feeling of Atsumu’s other hand idly tracing the exposed sliver of skin between your t-shirt and jeans. “Can you handle me?”

Atsumu’s thumb skirts across the bottom of your chin before he leans in, mouthing his next words against your lips, “Have I ever told you how hot it is when you’re mean to me?”

Your answering laugh is swallowed by a kiss, an all-consuming kiss that has you gasping into Atsumu’s mouth as he licks his way into yours. 

There’s no preamble for the way Atsumu’s tongue dances across your own, the thorough way he tastes you—the groan that rumbles in his throat as you take his bottom lip between your teeth.

Kissing Atsumu Miya is like setting a wildfire loose in your chest, all the oxygen swallowed up by his greedy, hungry heat. Your nerves thrum, the vibration rattling to the tips of your toes, and you’re helpless to resist the urge to pull him closer.

The second one of your legs begins to hike up around Atsumu’s waist, he grabs both, urging you to wrap your thighs around him, and he groans into your mouth as you find yourself flush with the solid proof of his arousal.

“Ya have no fuckin’ clue how bad I’ve wanted you,” he murmurs, drawing a keening noise from your lips as he hotly mouths his way down the side of your neck.

On the court, Atsumu Miya is an indomitable force. He’s unwaveringly confident and effortlessly sure of himself as a setter, always in control.

The crowd falls quiet, the ball follows his trajectory.

It’s a practiced dance, and he’s the conductor.

But here, pressed up against the counter in his brother’s restaurant, with your fingers tangled in his hair and his warm, soft hands sliding up beneath your shirt to clutch your waist, there’s a lawless, frantic edge to him. For every precise, focused move—like a kiss to the sensitive spot behind your ear that he somehow just knows will make you gasp, and the dizzying way he cups the back of your head when he kisses you deeper—you can feel the wild, barely-restrained desire in the unfiltered chorus of groans you’re not even sure he’s aware are falling past his lips.

It’s slipping—his control.

And you don’t want him to stop.

“Atsumu,” you whine into his mouth when he finally, finally slides a hand up under your bra, cupping your breast and teasing at your sensitive, pebbled nipple.

“Yeah?” he pants, kissing his way around the curve of your jaw, only pausing to help you in your endeavor to take off your shirt.

He wastes no time in unclipping your bra, his deft fingers making quick work of the clip, and his expression is nothing short of lustful reverence when he takes in the sight of your naked breasts before him.

“Fuck,” he murmurs quietly, taking a breast in each of his palms while he leans in to press a kiss to your sternum, and whatever you were going to say promptly exits your mind a beat later. Wet, hot heat engulfs your nipple, and you glance down, nearly choking on your own spit at the sight of Atsumu sucking on your breasts.

Rocking your hips into him, you let out a breathy whine at the feeling of his hard cock pressing into your cunt, the fabric of his athletic shorts doing nothing to hide his thick, throbbing insistence. 

Atsumu moans against your tits, and the filthy, wet sound of him shamelessly lapping at them sends a fresh gush of arousal between your legs, your underwear now soaked with it. You reach between your bodies, doing your needy cunt no favors at all when you feel just how thick Atsumu is as you wrap your fingers around him.

“God, I’m gonna fuckin’ come if you keep doing that,” he lets out a low, ragged sound caught somewhere between a moan and a laugh.

“I’d rather you come somewhere else,” you tell him, pulling down his shorts and boxers to let his flushed, leaking shaft spring free.

Atsumu takes your face in both hands, kissing you hard and filthy as he unbuttons your pants, sliding them off along with your underwear and leaving both in a forgotten heap on the floor. And when you wrap your legs back around him and rub your slick folds down the length of his cock, you’re already dangerously close to coming from that alone, too. 

He slides a finger into you, muttering a string of expletives under his breath when he feels the sopping squelch of how wet you already are for him. One digit soon becomes two pumping in and out of you, and while it’s still not enough to quell the greedy desperation he’s ignited, he’s barely begun rubbing circles into your aching clit when you’re already shaking in his arms and moaning in the throes of your climax. 

And then he’s stroking himself, groaning softly, like he thinks this is what he has to do now to take care of his throbbing cock. 

Like you’re satisfied already, as if you’ve somehow had your fill of him.

As if two fingers between your legs would ever be enough to encapsulate all that you want of Atsumu fucking Miya. 

(And really, it’s a lot, quite frankly. Now that you’re finally ready to admit it to yourself.)

“Fuck me, Atsumu,” you plead.

He pauses, chest heaving, voice rough as he asks, “Are you sure?”

“Please,” you exhale against his lips, and his mouth slots against yours as he notches his shaft at your entrance and sinks his cock into you.

Still sensitive from your first orgasm, you’re reduced to moans and whimpers while he stretches you open as your entire body floods with pleasure, your mind hazy with desire. Once he bottoms out, you feel so full you want to cry. You want to keep your legs wrapped around his waist and cockwarm him all night. You want him to fuck you stupid. You want to ride his cock until you both can’t move.

“You feel so good,” he murmurs, hips rocking as he thrusts in and out of you, your walls fluttering with pleasure at the rhythmic push and drag. “Wanna take you home and do this again and again.”

“Me too,” you tell him, and you can feel the way his cock throbs inside of you at your admission, his fingertips tightening around your waist.

“Good, ‘cause I’m not gonna last much longer,” he admits, grinning against your mouth. 

The pleasure is rapidly building up inside of you again, the filthy slide of Atsumu’s tongue in your mouth only further fanning the flames, one hand trailing back up to tease at your hard nipples.

And you want to tell him, “Same,” because you’re dangerously close to the edge already, years of studiously ignored desire all spilling over into a crazed, insatiable need that’s making your pussy throb.

But instead what you whine is, “Harder.”

Atsumu groans, the noise nearly as lewd as the continuous sound of his cock pumping in and out of your soaking wet cunt, the only warning that he heard you before he picks you up off of the counter, plunging right back into you the moment you’re lying flat on the floor.

With the ground beneath your bodies for purchase, Atsumu begins to roughly pound into you, the fingers of one hand tangling with your own as the other trails toward your clit.

You moan his name repeatedly, like some fucked up carnal prayer on the floor of Onigiri Miya, and as he rubs circles into your swollen clit and whispers your own name just as desperately, you come so hard everything goes white, every sensation in your body drowned out by the sheer downpour of pleasure that you’re uncontrollably shaking with. Atsumu follows suit a moment later, pulling out of you and furiously fisting his cock until hot, thick spurts of cum are splattering all over your chest, groaning as he watches his seed paint your tits.

And just because you’re fairly certain what it’ll do to him, you reach down and swipe a glob off of your nipple while you both try to catch your breath, holding eye contact with him as you lick the cum off of your finger and swallow it. 

Atsumu’s lips part as he stares at you, eyes widening a little bit before he looks down at his cock, which is already twitching again with interest. 

–

Later, when you’re both lying tangled in Atsumu’s sheets, his phone lights up on his nightstand—

Samu: congrats Samu: there is literally a security camera in the shop Samu: also you’re disgusting you own a whole fuckin apartment to fuck in Samu: die slowly

-

likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated<3!

[catsteeth]

request of Sandor smut with a chubby!fem reader?? pls pls🥹

The Maiden

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Drabble✿:+ 

CW: MDNI, SMUT, P in V Sex, Plus Size Afab reader, mention of breast play, mention of insecurity, major body worshiping.   A/N: Girl yes the fuck you can-Yes the fuck you cannnn!!! I would like to make it known that in my personal head canon Y/N in both the Sandor and Podrick series is chubby. so sue me, 🫣SO LOCK ME UP!

Word Count: 420 (lol)

Sandor took his duty as your husband seriously. He needed you well fed. Three meals each day. He loved the thickness of your thighs, your belly, your hips, your ass, and of course your breasts. He ogled you since the first time he saw you working in a tavern in Winterfell. When you bent over to fill his cup, you caught him staring at your breasts. And before you knew it he had his cock between them.

And even now, he still ogled you just as he did before. He loved your softness, your plumpness, and your scars. 

He loved it best when you let him watch you bathe. His cock twitched in his trousers as his eyes ran over your naked body covered in oils, soaps, and bubbles. He loved how the fat of your belly slightly rolled in on itself as you sat up in the bath. It was as if you were a manifestation of the maiden herself right in front of him. Not a bit of you was masculine, you were a true symbol of femininity in his eyes. 

He couldn’t help it but pull his length out and stroke it as he watched you run your expensive perfumed oils over your body. The oil caught the light of the moon so perfectly, it only highlighted every curve of your body and the dip of your hips.

And if you ever dare complain about your body, he would teach you to love it. One brutal thrust of his hips at a time. The water spilling out the sides of the tub mixed well with the sounds you make as his cock pulsed inside of your aching cunt. 

But of course he’d punish you for thinking such terrible things about the love of his life. 

So naturally he’d make you ride him. He’d be unable to help himself from bucking his hips into you harder, making your breasts bounce, your belly shake, and your ass jiggle, all while you held onto his shoulders for support. The slight is enough to make him fill you quickly with his release. 

As the heat of it engulfs your body, you remember how beautiful you are. How much 

power you hold. 

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[lokis-army-77]

Ravishing

mondern!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Your boyfriend catches you making lunch but food isn't what he wants to devour.

Warning: 18 +. p in v, unprotected sex, kinda dom eddie, slight piss kink (its 4 v small paragraphs, some dialogue, and highlighted in red for those who want to skip).

Thank you to my beta readers <3 and Mariah for helping with the header.

Masterlist

The late morning sun cast a warm bright haze around the open-concept kitchen and living room. The blinds had been pulled back to let the natural light illuminate what you were doing. 

You shuffled around the kitchen quietly, gathering all the things needed to make a bowl of ramen. In contrast to the warm light, the air was cool. The breeze from the vent just beside the oven had goosebumps appearing over your legs, given you were only dressed in a simple white thong and your boyfriend's rather worn Iron Maiden t-shirt. 

He was still sound asleep, laid out like a starfish, soft snores coming from his parted lips. It had taken everything in you to leave the comfort of the warm bed and his embrace but once your stomach began to growl, you forced yourself to pry your sore body from the bed.

The night before had been eventful, to say the least. Your boyfriend had ravished you. Worshiped your body in the way that only he could. His tongue, fingers, and his cock were dedicated to your pleasure, leaving you a weak, worn-out mess atop the mattress. You went round after round, not stopping until well after the sun started to rise. 

As you reminisced on all the ways he had made you cum, you hadn't noticed the sounds of footsteps heavy with sleep nearing you. 

Arms wrapped around your middle as you placed the pot of water on the eye. You leaned into the embrace, humming contently. 

"Good morning." You smile.

"Morning." He mumbles into your neck. "I'm starving."

"I'll be done with food in a bit." You reply, tearing open the seasoning packet.

He groans into your skin, fingers lifting the hem of your shirt up and over your breasts. "Not what I'm hungry for." He all but purs. His hands move to push your panties down and then grab your hips, rutting his cock against your ass. You hadn’t noticed he was completely bare.

"Eddie-" you gasp as his fully hard cock pushes into your entrance. Your body shivers at the sensation, still sensitive from your last tussle only a few hours ago. 

You hang your head low as he begins to rut into you, moving his hips at a pace you think should be all too fast for someone who has just woken up.

Pouring the contents of the seasoning packet into the water, you took the trash to the counter before bracing yourself against it. "Oh fuck. Feels so- ah! Feels so good." You groan. 

Eddie grunts as he leaves wet, sloppy kisses along your shoulders and up the column of your neck. His teeth nip and bite at the delicate skin, marking you, claiming you as his own. 

He jackhammers into you, the roughness forcing your legs to widen and your knees to weaken. Strong hands keep you from falling. 

You're moved away from the oven, your front pushed over the butcher block counters. The wood is cold and you let out a squeal when your aching nipples make contact. 

The strong thrusts have your body rocking against the countertop. Your hands are thrown out in front of you, pushing against the wall to keep you from being fucked into it. 

You can barely get a noise out with the way Eddie is relentlessly using your sopping cunt.

"Taking me so well, Princess. Pussy made just for me, hum?"

You nod enthusiastically. "S'just for you," your words slur. "Oh-! Oh, Eddie!" Your lungs gain a burst of air as the tip of Eddie’s cock slides past the spot inside you that he always, so masterfully, finds. 

He hikes one of your legs up, opening you further to him. The new angle pushes his length further into you. He's directly hitting that spot now, over and over and over again. It has you lost for words, a bundle of whimpers and nerves so tight you think you might explode. 

It's all building up and you can do nothing to stop it but moan out against the wooden counter.

"Eddie- Eddie please I can't. Fuck-" your voice wobbles. "I think I'm gonna‐"

He buries himself deeper. "Gonna cum pretty girl?"

You shake your head. No, this is different, more urgent.

Your breathing is heavy as you reply. "No. Ah- I think, fuck, I think I'm gonna pee. You have to stop, Eddie, you have to."

He did not stop. The thrusts only kept coming, stroke after stroke he hit that special place but that was not the only place you felt the length of his cock. Your bladder stung with the fast and pressing need to relieve itself. The thought of letting go right here in the kitchen had you flushing, your body hot, and your face as red as could be. 

"Hold it," Eddie commanded. 

Your legs shook with the pleasure and pain

"I can't"

"Yes, you can. Hold it, sweetheart."

"Can't-" you heave. It was taking everything in you to do as he said, to hold it back. "Can't -", You let out a defeated whimper as you felt warmth begin to trickle down your leg. 

It didn't take more than a second for that trickle to turn into a gush. You felt dirty as the piss pooled below you. Your body flushed with embarrassment, tears welled in your eyes. 

Eddie tutted behind you, "Aww, was it too much for you?" The condescending tone of his voice made the heat in your body explode. 

You answered him with a weak mewl, "Uh-huh."

"What was that? I couldn't hear you, baby. Did I make you dumb?"

All the while, his hips never stopped pistoning into you. Sloppy wet sounds were a constant ambiance in the room. 

Now, a more familiar tug begins inside of you, one you knew all too well. A tugging that Eddie had learned, over years, when and how to pull to bring you the most pleasure. He expertly knew how to yank on that string in your abdomen until you fell over the edge. 

Your cunt squeezed him, contracting around his stiff cock like a vice. He chucked before leaning down and licking a thick, wet stripe up the plane of your back, causing a shiver to rake through you.

"I can feel how close you are. So warm and wet, gonna fill you with my fuckin cum." He whispers in your ear.

"Please." 

His lips pull into a smirk against your skin. "You'd like that, wouldn’t you? Want all the cum I can give you, huh? Wanna be a pretty little cum baby for me?"

"Yes, yes Eddie, yes." Your eyes are almost rolling into the back of your head as your release inches closer and closer. 

"Say it. Say what you want." The command is rough, a drastic change from the patronizing softness he had before.

With your body shaking, nerves prickling as you try and stave off your fall, you let out a shriek. "Wanna cum! Please-oh fuck- let me cum!" Your hand's fist so tight, your knuckles turn white. 

You barely hear Eddie give you permission before you're coming undone around him.

You swear there was a bright flash of light before your closed eyes as you shook. Was it heaven? Was it God? You had no idea but you swear with everything in you that this was the most intense orgasm you've ever had. 

Eddie's brutal pace finally dissipates into longer, more slow, and steady strokes as he comes down from his own high. 

"Fuck." The groan he lets out rumbles his chest, you can feel the vibrations on your back. 

You just want to lean there forever. Have Eddie pressed up against you in the warm light of the day, not a worry in the world. Exhausted, your eyes begin to close and your bones become liquid. It's relaxing, resting in the aftermath of something so big. That is until you hear an all too familiar sizzle of water boiling over and hitting the hot eye of the stove.

Your heart beats faster for a whole other reason now as you push Eddie off you and turn to take the pot of water off the stove, thankful there wasn't anything that could have burnt or overcooked inside.

"I love you," Eddie voices. "I fuckin love you."

Turning on your heel, you look at him. His sharp edges seem soft and you can't help but smile. 

"Love you more." You challenge.

He steps forward, taking you in his arms and placing a sloppy kiss on your lips, leaving you with a big smack. "Love you most." Another kiss. And another. And another, until you're giggling so much you have to shove him gently away from you.

"Let's get this mess cleaned up and maybe we can make something to eat." You pause, Eddie opens his mouth to speak but you interrupt him before he can, pointing a finger at him. "And don't say it's not what you're hungry for, I'm not having sex with you again until you have an actual meal."

He lifts his hands in defense. "Hey, not my fault you always look so... ravishing."

"Uh-huh, alright smooth talker. Let's get cleaned up."

[joequiinn]

You'll Just Have to Taste Me | toxic exes e.m. x reader

Summary | You knew you’d risk running into Eddie when you walked into one of his favorite music venues, but maybe that’s exactly what you were counting on.

Warnings & Notes | fem!reader, smut, established past relationship, toxic!reader, asshole!Eddie, shitty behavior all around, semipublic sex, unprotected sex (p in v), choking, ass play, name calling/mild degradation

Author's Note | I - a self-identified metal head - can’t stop listening to Sabrina Carpenter, and this is what it’s left me with. Eddie and reader are both assholes here, so if you aren't game for shitty, petty bad behavior, then this may not be the fic for you~

WC | 7.4k

!!! MINORS DNI !!!

You knew better than to pay visits to Eddie’s usual haunts. These dive bars and show venues crammed with sweaty drunks and kids carrying fake IDs were never your scene, but back when things were different, you were always happy to oblige him.

Since your break up, you’d been so good at avoiding any and all places you’d ever visited with Eddie in the past - the record store he dragged you into to buy the latest Megadeth or Iron Maiden cassette, the shitty fast food restaurant that supposedly had the “best chili in town,” the dollar theater that was always playing B-movies you’d never even heard of. You always felt that compulsion to step foot in these businesses on the chance of running into Eddie, but you had, thus far, managed to keep yourself in line.

But when your friend, Lara, mentioned that she’d be playing a show at the Viper Room this weekend, well… you simply couldn’t turn down her invitation. You had spent dozens upon dozens of nights in this little venue, either by Eddie’s side bobbing along to the loud music or watching him up on the stage, playing his guitar so damn aggressively that sometimes his fingers would bleed. You’d grown familiar with the Viper Room, with the metal music that made its walls shake and the bar top that was sticky from years upon years of spilled drinks; and you hadn’t been back since you and Eddie broke up.

So, you obliged Lara and her band, hoping that none of them would suspect that you agreed to come along because you wanted to run into Eddie. You’d had nearly everyone around you convinced that you were over the split, that you barely thought about your ex most days - but you knew the truth, and that was far from it.

You craved him desperately despite all the bullshit you put one another through, you missed him despite how ugly things ended between you two. And yet you loathed him in the same breath, hoping he was just as tormented as you following your break up;and if you took it upon yourself to make sure Eddie was dealt at least a small hand of torment, well…

So, here you were, prowling the Viper Room as you waited for Lara’s band to go on, gaze patrolling the venue for any sign of Eddie fucking Munson; it was practically unheard of for him not to pop in to see who was playing, so if he weren’t here you’d be royally pissed off. Your heart drummed nervously inside your chest, an uneasy rhythm that had you briefly second guessing this idea, wondering if you should just play it cool and not instigate something. After all, you’d always been prone to crazy shit that landed you in trouble, prone to aggressions and dramatics all simply because you could. Hell, Eddie could’ve used that as an excuse in your break up, but he was just as bad as you, confrontational and jealous and mean; needless to say, you were both a little fucked up.

And, eventually, you did spot Eddie halfway through the band’s first song, chatting up the security guy with a cigarette hanging from his lips, a beer held tight in one hand while his arm was hanging around some other chick. A nasty, envious wave of anger crashed over you at the sight of her, your eyes dark and crazy and dangerous.

And the more you looked at her, the more pissed off you got, the more red you saw washing over your vision - why the fuck did she look so much like you? From her hair to her build to her goddamn wardrobe, you felt like you were staring into some trick mirror warping your image - there was no way that this was some coincidence, Eddie wasn't that stupid.

You looked back and forth between her and Eddie, wondering if he brought this chick along on the off-chance that you’d be here to see them together. That was some shit you wouldn’t put past him, Eddie was no more above pettiness than you were. But did that mean he was hoping you’d be here, too? Your blood boiled even hotter at the thought; at least you didn’t bring some bargain bin version of Eddie along in the hopes that it would piss him off, you were just hoping to get him riled up a little.

Feeling just how rapidly your rage was escalating, you turned your back quickly and marched towards the bar in some measly attempt to compose yourself; you didn’t want to go flying off the handle, after all. The bartender that you’d grown familiar with over the years offered you a shot as if he knew exactly what was going on, and although you didn’t want anyone’s goddamn pity, you needed at least something to help you cool off.

You kept your eyes on Eddie and this chick, your stare following them as they mingled and danced and smoked. Whoever she was, it was obvious she was falling for Eddie’s charm just as quickly as you and everyone else did; Eddie, on the other hand, seemed only mildly interested, putting forth little effort to make her feel wanted. You smiled cruelly at that, though it ticked you off again because why would he bring her along otherwise?

At some point, the woman stole away to approach the bar, and like some animal just waiting to strike, you slunk over, cramming your way in beside her as she asked the bartender for a drink. She paid you no mind, clearly trying to ignore all the patrons in this place that must have been unfamiliar to her; you eyed her thoughtfully, not really sure what you planned on doing now but letting your mouth run anyway.

“First time here?” You asked in a tone that would’ve been suspiciously innocent to anyone that knew you. She looked at you with detached eyes, nodding before trying to turn her attention away, a silent indication that she wasn’t interested in conversation. You, however, weren’t done, “You here with Munson?”

Now, she looked at you more cautiously, actually taking the opportunity to look you in the eye, brow furrowed curiously, “Eddie really does know everyone, huh?”

You smirked snidely, leaning against the counter as you looked about the venue for the man in question, “Oh, everyone. I’d bet he’s been so preoccupied with everyone else that he’s barely paid any mind to you.”

You stared at her fiendishly, taking far too much pleasure in the way her expression slowly fell, the way her gaze grew concerned and wary. Just to make things worse, you continued, “Get used to being ignored, Eddie can’t help but entertain the masses while forgetting about the people standing right there.”

The woman looked at you dreadfully for a few long moments before her expression slowly morphed, twisting into a scowl as if something was dawning on her. And you simply looked back with a smug raise of your brow, taking far too much joy from antagonizing this stranger.

“My god, you’re Eddie’s ex, aren’t you?” Her tone was biting as she asked it; you smiled back brazenly, to which she rolled her eyes, “Jesus, you’re as bad as he said.”

“I like to think I’m worse.” You answered with glee as if to mock her, leaning in just a little, “But still not as bad as him.”

The woman pushed off of the bar, no longer concerned with getting a new drink, but she paused before stomping away, staring harshly at you. She looked you up and down crudely, and you could see the exact moment she realized the thing you had noticed earlier - the two of you looked damn near related. She scoffed at the realization, as if disgusted by both you and Eddie.

Cursing under her breath, she stormed off, your gaze following after her; you realized then that Eddie had seen the interaction and was already approaching you two, but before he could get a word out, the woman shoulder-checked past him.

Eddie’s glare was vicious as he met your eyes, and he looked frustrated enough that even you wanted to shrink just a little. His march towards you was hostile, eyes blazing and jaw clenched tight; shoving down your distress, you stood up tall and resilient, hoping your express was one of perfect, condescending apathy.

“She seemed really great, Eddie, shame it’s not going to work out.”

Eddie was upon you, practically trapping you between him and the bar as he glared daggers; you nearly gasped at the closeness and malice, at the familiar sensation of something ugly breaking out between you two.

“What the fuck did you do?” He growled.

You gave an innocent shrug, frowning falsely, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Eddie’s jaw flexed. His hand shot out and grabbed your elbow so aggressively that it made you choke on a yelp as he abruptly began to drag you towards the bathroom, shoving the door open without a care for whether or not someone may be in there. He pulled you into the cramped room, slamming and locking the door behind him before spinning his mean glare back around on you. You stared back just as harshly, never the type to back down when his temper was escalating; in fact, it took everything in you not to grin smugly, getting exactly the rise out of him that you were hoping for.

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” His tone was biting as he took a threatening step into your space, trapping you between himself and the grimy tile wall at your back, “You show up here on the one night that I bring a date and pull some kind of stunt just to fuck with me. That’s laughable, even for you.”

Although your eyes were wild with the impulse to argue, you held in as much anger as you could, your attitude combative and condescending, “Me? You’re just as bad - coming to my friend’s gig, bringing a girl along with you that’s clearly some cheap knockoff of me. I’d bet you were fucking hoping I’d be here, just so you could rub it in that you’d ‘moved on.’”

Eddie’s laugh was blatantly unamused, sarcastic and nasty as he leaned in even closer, “You think I’d pull that? As if I’d ever want to see you again.”

You raised your brows and frowned in a false show of sympathy, “Oh, you poor thing who are you trying to convince - me or yourself?”

Eddie was so damn close that you could practically taste the booze on his breath, his body radiating so much heat that it dared to engulf you. His eyes were nearly pitch black as they burned into yours, “You’re impossible, you know that? You always were.”

“Careful, babe, I might take that as a compliment.” You grinned wickedly from ear-to-ear, pushing closer while jabbing a finger into his chest, “You’re just as bad as me, so stop pretending you’re some innocent victim to my shit.”Eddie smirked back just as cruelly, snapping his hand around yours in a vice grip, squeezing hard enough that it nearly hurt, “And don’t act like you were being harmless when we both know you’re too smart not to have an ulterior motive. So, are you here because Lara asked you to come or are you here for something else?”

Each word grew a little lower until it nearly sounded as if Eddie was whispering a threat; he inched closer, his face dangerously close to yours. Taking a deep breath to maintain your composure, you leveled him with a challenging glare, as if simply doing that could prove him wrong. You tipped your chin up defiantly, browning arching with all the attitude you could muster.

“I’ll only tell if you do.” Your tone was sickly sweet, lips but a short breath away from Eddie’s as you looked between his dark eyes.

“God, you’re a pain in my ass.” Eddie grumbled lowly, eyes flicking down to your cruel yet enticing red lips, fingers tightening around your hand that he still held trapped between you two.

Your expression was wicked in response, voice a taunting whisper, “But you miss me, don’t you?”

Eddie clenched his jaw tight, gaze flaring a little harsher as he stared as if his eyes could hurt you. A self-satisfied smile crawled across your lips, expression goading as you looked back, just waiting for the answer that you hoped would come. Eddie took a deep breath of frustration.

“You’re goddamn right.” He hissed as if the words burned his tongue, his face alight with the combined frustration and desire that you’d become familiar with after all your time together.

As your pleased grin grew larger, Eddie crashed his lips to yours with ferocity, his movements so fast that your head bounced back into the wall You moaned into the hateful kiss, arms flying up to grab at his vest, nails scratching his neck and chest in the process. Eddie crushed you back against the tile, hands grabbing and squeezing your body as if to both hurt you and memorize you all over again.

His mouth tasted like the familiar sting of whiskey, skin smelling of sweat and cologne in a combination that you’d missed desperately. You kissed him as if your life depended on it, sloppy and wet and aggressive, as Eddie’s hands snaked around your body to grab at your ass. He squeezed hard enough to make you hiss, a primal groan rumbling in his chest at the feel of you.

You reached up to grab fistfuls of his hair, yanking him back roughly just so you could hear that satisfying hiss of pain pass between his lips; you smiled sinfully as Eddie glared down his nose at you. Tauntingly, you tugged at his curls again, licking your lower lip as if the sight of his frustration whet your appetite like nothing else.

“This is the last date you ever go on with that girl?” You asked snidely, delighting in the way Eddie huffed with a glare.

“Last. One.” He answered with gritted teeth.

Your smile grew even crueler and wider, “You’ve got the real thing right here, you don’t need some other chick.”

You began to draw Eddie's lips back down to yours, but he abruptly pressed his large hand to your neck, fingers curling slightly without closing in. Surprise flashed across your expression before it was quickly replaced by excitement, Eddie’s words hot against your lips, “And if you’re going to start bossing me around again, you’re going to behave for me, got it?”

You reached your lips up to brush against his, “The best I can.”

Eddie’s fingers tightened, creating pressure on either side of your neck, “That was a yes or no question.”

A jolt ran down your spine, heat pooling in your center as your body clenched tight around nothing. Knowing exactly what he was doing to you, Eddie pressed his hot, tense body against yours insistently.

You practically gasped with anticipation, “Yes.”

A devious smirk crossed Eddie’s lips, eyes hooded and fiendish, “Good girl.”

An eager mewl sounded in your throat as Eddie’s hand tightened, lips meeting yours once more in a kiss so heated that it made your eyes cross. His other hand cupped your ass again, grip severe as his tongue forced its way past your lips, ensnaring yours dominantly.

Eddie rutted his hips clumsily against yours, his growing erection already creating a strained tent in his jeans; you moaned needily as you felt him growing harder against you. The rolling of his hips was rapacious, slow and deep as if he were already buried inside you; it made you desperate for some friction, tugging at Eddie’s hair again as you attempted to roll your hips with his.

Abruptly, Eddie stole his lips away, pressing his forehead against yours and using the weight of his body to keep your hips from moving again. A wicked smile spread across his lips as you moaned in frustration; chuckily airily, he rutted his hips one more time at a tantalizing pace, grip still firm and commanding on your neck.

“God, you’re so fucking easy,” his words were biting, and yet his tone was enthralled, “I’ve barely touched you and already you’re acting greedy.”

Using his hand to guide you, Eddie spun you around in the cramped space, directing you to the filthy sink, its faucet leaking. You braced your hands on the lip of the counter, as Eddie pressed himself flush to your back, cocked rubbing gainst your ass and mouth teasing at your ear. With a whine, you pushed your ass back against him, causing both of Eddie’s hands to tighten their grip again.

“So greedy,” He moaned in your ear, using his hand on your neck to direct your attention to the mirror - it was shattered and layered with fading stickers, but in one sliver of glass, you found his predatory eyes burning into you, “You can be patient, can’t you?”

You nodded even as you pushed back against him, the need for his body becoming too much already. In retaliation, Eddie reared his hand back and struck your ass with a practiced hit, eyes glinting as you yelped with surprise and delight.

“Patience.” He emphasized darkly, pressing his face into your hair and inhaling deeply as if he was starved and your scent could satiate him. As you shivered eagerly, Eddie’s hands dragged down your body, creating a hot trail along your back, your waist, your ass. You arched back into his touch, desperate for more. He palmed your ass once more before grabbing the waist of your tight pants, giving them one harsh tug to expose your plump ass and the itty, bitty thong you wore. Eddie curled his finger in its lacy band, snapping it against your skin as his lips tickled your ear again, “These ones were always my favorite…”

Your voice was a gasp, “I know.”

His hands squeezed your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he inhaled your scent again,  “Just for me, huh?”

You hummed a yes, gaze staring wantonly into the mirror’s broken reflection, watching Eddie’s dark expression in anticipation. He leaned back just enough to ogle your body, tongue poking out between his teeth as he delighted in the sight of you longing for him.

Eddie slid one of his feet between yours, nudging you to spread your legs for him, his hands hungrily groping at your ass. You obliged as much as the pants around your knees would allow, the cold of the bathroom causing goosebumps to break out across your exposed skin as you awaited Eddie’s next move.

His hand glided along your skin, dipping down between your legs and teasing you through the thin fabric of your thong. You moaned, trying to roll your hips closer, but Eddie was having none of it - his opposite hand slapped your ass again, jaw tight as he found your gaze in the reflection once more. The corner of his mouth curled up as he stared at you through his lashes.

Again, his fingers ghosted over your pussy, the near-contact causing you to practically growl with impatience. Eddie pressed his chest to your back again so he could speak lowly into your ear.

“You’re going to stand there like a good girl and wait - you only get what you want when I decide to give it to you.” The command made you moan, head rolling back as if Eddie were already touching you just the way you liked; you could only imagine the self-satisfied smirk that must have been on his lips, but you didn’t dare look at him in the mirror’s reflection.

Eddie snaked his arm around to your front as he pressed you flush against him, the tip of his cock poking your ass even through the fabric of his jeans. His hand slowly reached back down into your thong, fingertips grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver through your entire body; you fought to hold still, hoping your patience would reward you.

Eddie’s calloused finger circled your clit, causing a moan to spill from your mouth as your grip tightened on the countertop. A huff of a laugh escaped Eddie as he applied more pressure, lips hot and close to your ear again.

“So, so easy…” He teased. You bit your lip as his finger prodded, gliding from your clit to your pussy and back, hips grinding slowly against your ass. As his fingertips moved in slow, practiced circles, he continued to taunt, “This what you wanted? To get me all riled up so I’d give you a piece of my mind?”

You nodded dumbly, throwing your head back as Eddie increased his pace just enough to make your body shudder. His opposite hand grabbed roughly at your hip, holding tight as his own impatience won out, abruptly dipping two fingers into your wet folds. You cried out in the same breath that Eddie moaned, grinding his hips while curling his fingers knuckle deep in just the way he knew you loved.

“Already so fucking wet…” He groaned into your hair as he slowly pumped his fingers inside you, cock twitching against your ass as a string of lurid sounds escaped your parted lips. God, it was pathetic just how easily you were coming undone in his hands, how easily you succumbed to Eddie’s touch - a months’ long dry spell ruined you, making you impossibly wet from the moment he laid a hand on you.

As Eddie’s fingers continued to pleasure you, he pressed his thumb to your clit, moving in tight, merciless circles that caused your back to arch, rear pressing hungrily against his cock and head thrown back onto his shoulder. Eddie’s opposite hand reached up to latch onto your neck again, his lips hot as they dragged along your cheek.

“Gonna cum already?” He teased breathily, smiling against your skin, “Gonna get off from just my fingers?”

“N-no--” You stuttered out, as if somehow that could keep you from spilling over.

Eddie hummed in disagreement, curving his fingers again, “This pussy’s still mine.”

Your breath hitched, preventing any arguments from leaving your mouth as Eddie picked up speed, fingers slick with your desire. His other hand reached from your neck to your jaw, twisting your head to face him so he could plant sloppy, wet, domineering kisses on your lips.

“Still mine…” He breathed out as you clenched around his fingers, unabashed moans escaping you as your senses became frenzied, knees already beginning to shake. You could feel Eddie’s lips curl into another wicked grin, “You better not cum yet.”

A desperate whine sounded out of you again, and so Eddie’s hand on your jaw squeezed tight, thumb cruel against your clit as he bent you forward a little over the counter. You blinked your eyes open, vision crossed as you met his stare in the mirror.

“If you cum now, I’ll stop.” Eddie taunted, curving his fingers again for good measure. You mewled pathetically, to which he pressed his hips against yours, grinding them with each repetition, “All you do is take and take and take. What did I say about behaving?”

Just to torment you further, Eddie nipped at your throat, teeth digging into the spot below your jawline; you groaned, to which he began to pump his fingers even faster. The sensation in your clit was becoming too much, your toes curling inside your boots as you leaned more of your weight over the counter; and to that, too, Eddie became even more cruel, swirling your clit so good it made you see goddamn stars behind your eyes.

You tripped over your words, all of them spilling out in succession as you began to come undone, “Fuc-- Eddie-- I can’t--!”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He growled primally against your neck, but it was too late, your orgasm crashing over you wildly as you moaned unabashedly, legs shaking and pussy throbbing as you braced yourself over the sink.

Torturously, Eddie kept swirling your clit, making you shudder near uncontrollably. He bit at your skin again as his hand squeezed your jaw.

“You never listen, always gotta misbehave…” He grumbled, pulling back from you; you had to steady yourself, body still wracking from your orgasm, “Maybe I’ll go find that girl - bet I could fuck her for hours and she'd be good.”

Your head shot up, Eddie having said just the right words to bring you back to earth. Before you could glare at him in the reflection, though, he twisted one hand in your hair while the other smacked you across the ass, causing you to yelp in both pain and pleasure. Eddie pulled you back, pressing his cheek into your hair.

Finally catching your breath, you hissed,”You won't.”

“I won't?” Eddie teased, to which you shook your head; his fingers twisted even tighter.

Fuck, you could've drooled over the growl in Eddie’s voice, the way he manhandled you; and you were certain he knew it, too. You hoped to appear defiant as you kept your chin high and collected yourself, hiding your wince as Eddie tugged at your hair.

“Wanna keep me all to yourself, isn't that right, you brat?” His words were sharp and hot against your skin as he dragged his nose along your neck.

“Yes.” You nearly whispered, willing to play a little nicer if it meant Eddie would ravage you.

He smiled before nipping at your neck, lips trailing back up to your ear, his teeth grazing over your lobe as he purred, “Want this to be the only dick you ever get? Hm, no one fucks you like I do, isn’t that right, baby?”

You moaned as an aroused chill rolled through your body, arching back into Eddie and pressing your rear against his cock, still tight and strained within his jeans, just out of reach and teasing the fuck out of you, “Yeah…”

“Good.”

Eddie gave your pants another aggressive tug all the way down to your ankles, grabbing at your hips and giving them a hungry squeeze. He yanked you back a couple steps and pressed a firm palm to the center of your back, quickly making you lean over the counter; your forehead nearly bumped against the faucet in your shared excitement.

Eddie nudged the inside of your foot with his toe, insisting that you spread yourself even wider for him, to which you obliged. He groaned with anticipation, and you were sure he was eying your ass like it was a goddamn meal; unable to resist, he clapped his hand against your cheek again, drawing another delighted yelp out of you.

Eddie shoved your soaked panties to the side, teasing your pussy with his fingers again; the stimulation made you shiver, hips jolting from just how sensitive you still were. As he continued to glide his finger along your slit, you could hear Eddie’s belt unbuckling followed by his jeans unzipping - your pussy clenched at just the thought of his cock freeing from his underwear, the telltale sound of its head dully bouncing off his stomach then making you moan.

“So easy…” Eddie repeated again through gritted teeth, barely inserting one finger inside you just to watch you squirm. A faint whine escaped you as you attempted to push your hips back, but he stopped you easily, fingers digging into your waist as if in warning, “No no, you’re gonna be good for me, gonna be a pretty little cock sleeve.”

You nodded vigorously, trying to look back at Eddie over your shoulder. He stole his hand from your pussy and wrapped it into your hair again, pulling you back just enough so you could see the inflamed, dark look in his eyes, stare practically hypnotic. You could feel his cock ghosting along your rear, and you sighed with desperate longing.

Eddie dragged his free hand slowly up your body, groping and teasing up your back and neck to your face; he reached around and pressed his first two fingers to your parted lips, his gaze watching hungrily as he slid them into your mouth, your breath hot as you sighed eagerly. You closed your lips and swirled your wet tongue around Eddie’s fingers, eyes fluttering shut when you heard him groan and give your hair a small tug. When his cock twitched against your ass, you bobbed your head, mouth sliding up and down his calloused fingers as your spit made a vulgar slurping sound around him.

Eddie muttered sinfully as you sucked his fingers, his rings metallic and warm against your lips; if you weren’t so preoccupied, you would’ve mocked him for being just as easy and horny as you. After letting you thoroughly coat him in spit, Eddie popped his digits from your mouth, snaking back down between you and to your pussy again. You pressed back into his hand, his fingertips teasing at you - he grabbed his throbbing cock, tapping its head on your ass provocatively.

As he lined himself up with your entrance, you couldn’t help but moan at the way just his tip filled you up, giving your ass a little wiggle that made Eddie tug at your hair. He grabbed hold of your hips with both hands, squeezing your skin roughly as you clenched around the head of his cock, desperate for more; a faint hiss sounded through Eddie’s teeth.

“You want it?” He taunted huskily, holding you tight as you whined in your throat.

“Yes.”

He hummed snidely, enjoying how damn desperate you were, “Work for it, brat.”

Another chill rolled up your spine at the command, your cunt flexing around him. Bracing yourself steadily against the counter, you took an eager breath before sliding back onto Eddie’s girth, ass bouncing up against his hips. The two of you moaned in unison, his cock twitching inside you as you adjusted to his size, walls clenching tightly around him; Eddie’s fingers dug into the meat of your hips, pushing up into you and making you gasp as he hit you nice and deep.

“You missed this cock?” Eddie jeered, not waiting for an answer, “Come on, prove it.”

Dutifully, you pulled your hips forward, the feel of his cock sliding inside you causing another wild moan to leap from your mouth. Hearing Eddie’s own sigh of satisfaction, you eagerly sunk back down on his dick, body bobbing in a needy rhythm as you clung even tighter to the counter.

“That’s right…” Eddie groaned, hands on your hips guiding you up and down his shaft, hips thrusting up to meet yours each time you sunk back; the snap of his hips was just rough enough to make violent moans escape you each time, “You take me so good, baby.”

Spurred by his words, you sped up a little, Eddie’s hands grabbing at your hair, your ass, zealous for your body. The sound of your ass clapping against his hips echoed off the tile, your moans mingling and overlapping with each other. Already, you could feel your thighs burning with exertion, knees growing shaky as your pleasure started to mount once more; god, how pathetic that you were already growing weak again, that you were wobbly with effort and sopping wet with lust.

Feeling a change in your rhythm, Eddie grabbed you tight, bending you over till your chest was flush with the counter; finally, he took charge, beginning to thrust deep inside you with quick, rapid strokes, hands holding you steady.

“What is it, brat, already drunk on this cock?” He teased through clenched teeth, hips slamming harshly into yours as you moaned and panted in response, “Fuck, you take me so good; already about to cum again, dirty slut?”

Just as you thought you were about to topple over the edge, Eddie slowed his violent thrusts, practically laughing at your frustrated groan and your knuckles flexing around the counter’s edge. Eddie rolled his hips cruelly, as if he wanted you to chase after the orgasm that he wasn’t ready to give you just yet.

He grabbed hold of your wrists and pulled them behind your back, shifting them securely into one hand while the other gave your ass a firm slap. As you yelped, Eddie rolled his hips deep and slow against yours.

“Greedy…” His voice was muffled as if speaking with something in his mouth; you gazed up out of the corner of your eye, watching him pop his thumb from between his lips, a thread of drool dripping down as his eyes glinted at you wickedly, “Greedy, greedy brat.”

When Eddie’s thumb teased at your asshole, a profane gasp escaped you. His hips stuttered a moment, pulling nearly all the way out of you as his thumb continued its slow, lecherous circle. You moaned desperately, missing the feel of his girth buried deep inside you, but Eddie refrained from giving you what you wanted, his thumb prodding at your ass. And then abruptly, he sunk into both holes, balls and knuckle deep in tandem, the instant stimulation making you cry out and cum without any warning like some goddamn virgin.

“No, again?” Eddie teased as his thumb massaged inside of you, cock twitching against your tightly clamped walls, “You missed this cock so bad…”

You could barely form words, tongue heavy in your mouth as you breathed out, “So bad, baby…”

“Got off twice already.” Eddie muttered as if to himself, hooking his thumb just to get another gasp out of you, your hips bucking with a shiver. He tugged at your wrists, still held tight in his large hand, and forced you to straighten up, the slowly changing angle making your pussy and ass ache with pleasure. You mewled weakly, feeling Eddie at your back again, face pressed into your messy hair as he breathed you in.

He rolled his hips again oh-so cruelly, his own moan vulgar at the change of angle, rutting his cock that extra bit deeper once he was already buried in you. His rhythm was tantalizing now, thrusting in and out of you as slowly as he could so that you’d both feel each and every little movement; his thumb pumped inside your ass in time with his cock, the sensation of both holes being filled making your eyes cross and your head spin.

“Fuck, baby…” Eddie growled against your ear, the sound making you clench tightly around is cock again, all your senses running haywire from how goddamn overstimulated you were. Your breath ragged and skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, you began to roll your hips in time with Eddie’s thrusts, practically standing on your toes just to feel his cock hit that spot you loved.

Eddie grunted hungrily as he slid through your slick folds again and again and again, speed picking up with each pump; your gasping and moaning only seemed to encourage him, your breath hitching each time he thrust extra hard into you. His hand around your wrists was so tight that it would’ve hurt were you not preoccupied, his thumb in your ass pushing in and out of you at its own pace, turning your knees to putty. Your legs shook beneath you, and if it weren’t for the way Eddie thrust you forward into the counter, you feared you might sink to the floor.

“Aw, you’re spent.” Eddie whispered devilishly into your ear, his hips slapping harder and faster into you as if it were punishment, “You know I’m not done with you yet.”

You nodded, although you knew it was unnecessary, and Eddie pushed you forward again, holding you just inches above the countertop by your wrists. Abruptly, he pulled his cock clean out of you, causing you to cry out at the loss of it, wet pussy clenching desperately around nothing as the cold bathroom air hit you.

Eddie chuckled behind you, hooking his thumb again and making you throw your head back. Cruelly, he pumped his thumb as deep inside you as it could go, eager mewls falling from your parted lips; you realized you were drooling, but you didn’t care. Eddie’s thumb sped up, making your panting more frantic, your back arched desperately as your toes curled.

“Could bury my cock right in your ass and you’d let me, huh?” Eddie taunted, and you nodded wildly in response. The head of his dick bounced against your ass cheek, goosebumps breaking out across your skin and a pathetic moan rising from your throat in desperation, “Could do whatever I want to you.”

Pushing his thumb nice and deep inside you, Eddie stopped, waiting until you impatiently jutted your ass against his hand. With another low laugh, Eddie removed his thumb and spun you around so quickly that you nearly stumbled, his hands catching you and body immediately pinning you back against the counter.

“No, I’ll save that for next time.” He growled, lips dangerously close to yours again. You could practically taste the sweat on his skin, your breath mingling as his eyes stared into yours; your hands had nearly fallen asleep while Eddie was holding them back, and they tingled as you steadied them atop the counter behind you, “That’s what you want, right? A next time?”

You hummed with an insistent whine, Eddie loving the sight of you messy and practically pleading for more. He squatted down a little so he could hook his hands beneath your quivering thighs, practically throwing you up onto the counter, the lip of the sink digging into your ass. A primal sound rose in Eddie’s throat as he tugged your pants from one of your legs and shoved it up, foot resting atop the counter as he dragged your body closer, nearly falling off the edge if it weren’t for his sturdy grip. He palmed your cunt with a vulgar smirk, leaning in close again.

“Whattaya say, lucky number three?” His hot breath washed across your lips, fingers swirling your clit lazily, his opposite hand pressing firmly against your throat once more.

Eddie’s thick cock nudged at your pussy, thrusting up into you nice and slow as you moaned together. His forehead rested against yours as his hand on your throat tightened, constricting your air just enough that your eyes crossed and your mouth hung open in ecstasy. Bottoming out, Eddie rolled his hips against yours, your pussy clenching around him as you felt another string of drool begin a trail down your lip.

Eddie pulled back enough to watch your face as his hips started slapping into your ass aggressively, his rhythm frantic and cruel and so damn delectable as you rocked atop the counter. Each gasp came out short and high in your throat, the sensation of Eddie’s cock hitting deep making your body tighten like a spring, the feel of his hand at your throat making your eyes roll back into your skull.

He groaned hoarsely, repeating roughly under his breath like a mantra, “So fucking good, so fucking good.”

His eyes were black with desire as they looked into yours, the intensity of his stare making your muscles contract wildly, hips rolling rapidly against his to create even more friction against your clit. Throwing your head back, you moaned unabashedly, and Eddie nipped along the underside of your jaw, fingers tightening even more around your throat; the lack of oxygen was becoming intoxicating, your breaths shorter and hitched as Eddie thrust up into you.

Cock buried nice and deep, Eddie began to rut up that extra bit into you, groaning at the way you clenched tight around him, inarticulate half-words of pleasure slipping past your parted lips. Your combined sounds of ecstasy reverberated off the tile walls, bodies slick with sweat against one another, the cramped room growing hotter and hotter; you gripped the counter even tighter as you curved your hips a little further, immediately mewling as Eddie hit that sweet spot inside you.

Spurred on by your new sounds of pleasure, Eddie’s thrusts grew faster and faster, deeper and deeper, driving you absolutely fucking wild. He used the hand at your throat to dip your head to one side, mouth latching tight to your neck, teeth nipping and lips sucking hard - the slight pain made you yelp eagerly,  excited by the inevitable hickey that was going to form. Knowing that he was getting you close yet again, Eddie reached down to press his fingers to your clit, experting rolling them in stimulating circles; he breathed heavily against your neck, lips hot and wet with spit.

You cried out as another intense orgasm hit you like a crashing wave, your eyes rolling back as your tight body practically quivered from the overwhelming satisfaction you felt from your head down to your goddamn toes. Eddie’s pace didn’t slow even for a second, making your sensitive pussy spasm at the excess pleasure, having to brace yourself tight on the counter so you wouldn’t melt right off it.

Now, Eddie used you like the damn cock sleeve you were, pounding roughly into you as he chased his own orgasm, so, so close that even you could practically taste it. He finally dropped his hand from your throat and gripped the edge of the counter tight so he could ram his cock up into you, his pace rapid and unforgiving; you couldn’t help but smile stupidly at how frantic and desperate he became when he was close, the way you treated your body like a sex toy just so he could get the satisfaction he craved.

“So fucking good, fucking good, fu--”

Eddie’s hips stuttered as he gasped, white knuckling the counter as he shoved himself as deep as he could go, seed spilling inside you; his strained sounds of pleasure made you moan and mewl with bliss. Eddie breathed deeply as his cock twitched inside you, his body weight leaning into yours as he rested his forehead against your neck. You were both sticky and hot, the smell of your sex hanging thick in the air as you both strained to catch your breath.

When Eddie eventually slid out of your pussy, the both of you sighed at the last little bit of stimulation; he took a couple steps back, forcing you to balance yourself on the lip of the counter with limbs that felt like pudding. You looked up at Eddie through your lashes, studying his euphoric expression as you felt his cum begin to seep out of you; his chest heaved deeply as his dark eyes found yours, nearly making you gasp.

As you slowly lowered your wobbly legs until your feet were back on the ground, Eddie pulled his pants back into place, eyeing you up and down like you were a slab of meat and he was still hungry for more even after all that. For a few moments, you simply stood there to regain your balance, Eddie's seed making a slow trail down your thigh; you caught a territorial smirk flash across his face as his eyes followed it down. You began to reach for the towel dispenser, but Eddie snatched your wrist quickly.

“Oh no, you're not cleaning that up.” He sneered wickedly, closing in on you again as he spoke in a low voice, “You're gonna go back out there with my cum soaking your jeans for the rest of the night like the slut you are.”

His words may have made you weak in the knees, but you couldn't help glaring, hot and bothered by the prospect of yet another argument between the two of you, “I got what I came here for - what makes you think I'll be listening to you anymore?”

Eddie leaned in, lips hovering over yours again as he answered huskily, “Because if you listen like a good girl, I'll give you more later.”

The both of you looked at one another with wanton desire, Eddie brushing his thumb along your lower lip before righting himself, stepping back to look at you leeringly again. 

“Now put your clothes on.” He growled, and you quickly followed the instruction.

As Eddie dragged you back out of the bathroom, you could feel eyes glaring at you - the bartender, other patrons, the girl that was supposed to be Eddie's date. You couldn't help but giggle at your predicament, which turned into a full on laugh when Eddie clapped one of the glaring patrons on the shoulder, winking devilishly while guiding you towards the door.

[freelancearsonist]

Parts and Labor

➔ Eddie Munson x fem!Reader - 5k

➔ Eddie’s van is practically falling apart, but he doesn’t have the heart to replace it. Luckily for him, you’re willing to put in the effort to fix it—as long as he helps.

➔ Rated MA for unprotected p in v sex (don’t do this irl pls), oral (f receiving), heavy petting, creampie, fingering, cumplay, Eddie has scars and lies about where he got them, reader has female anatomy and uses fem pronouns, reader is a mechanic [please let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

“SHIT, FUCK!”

Eddie slams down the hood of his van, kicks the front tire as hard as he can, then winces–both at the sudden pain in his foot and at the overreaction.

“Come on baby, please,” he pleads futilely to the unresponsive engine. “I’ll give you anything, just start.”

The engine, apparently, won’t be seduced.

Eddie digs through the pocket of his low-slung jeans, finds a dime somewhere in the pile of gum wrappers and old receipts, and runs to stick the coin into the nearest payphone booth.

The garage answers on the last ring, and Eddie doesn’t even have to identify himself. They’re almost as familiar with his junker van as he is himself. They’ve wrung more money out of him for repairs than the damned thing is worth, and Eddie knows it. He knows the vehicle is on its deathbed–repeatedly resuscitated at this point–and that he should just replace it. But he can’t. Beyond fear of hurting its feelings, he’s become attached to it. He’s made memories in that stupid van. To him, replacing his ride would be like wading a huge portion of his life up and throwing it in the trash. He just won’t do it.

The garage is merciful enough to give him a ride there along with towing his poor, lifeless van. He’s not eager to spend a day in the waiting room sipping lukewarm black coffee, but he needs to be there for her. His lady is dying–waiting for news from her doctors is the least he can do.

He forgets all about his lady when you walk through the door.

You’re the Porche 944 of women. He’s never seen anything or anyone quite as breathtaking as you–with the small grease smudge on your cheek, your hair pulled back so sloppily that half of it is already fallen down, and your denim overalls unclipped on one side to show off the faded Iron Maiden t-shirt you wear underneath. You’re wiping your hands on a grease rag as you approach him and Eddie just stands in dumbfounded silence. Who are you and where have you been his entire life?

“Munson,” you greet with a slight smile. 

He almost chokes. You know his name? He knows he’s never seen you before in his life–you’re the kind of girl he could never forget. Especially with how much time he’s had to spend here.

“Having trouble getting her to start?” you continue without missing a beat. Eddie doesn’t miss the way you refer to his van, and it makes him impossibly more hooked. “Seems to be a bad ignition coil. Easy enough to fix, except your crankshaft is rusted to shit and I’m honestly surprised the whole engine hasn’t fallen apart when you hit a bump or something. Seriously, it’s dangerous to drive at this point.”

Eddie hears you, but he doesn’t comprehend a single word you’re saying. He’s hyper-fixated on the way your lips form around your words, on how you’re speaking mechanics and you actually understand what you’re saying. He’s never met anyone like you.

“But you can fix her, right?”

You smile, and he feels his heart skip a beat. “Honestly? My professional advice is to just sell it for scrap and buy a new car.”

It’s like a smack to the face. He has to blink the shock out of his eyes while you stand there so simply, like you didn’t just tell him to kill his darling.

”What’s your unprofessional advice?”

You bite your lip, busy your hands with a grease cloth. “I could fix it. But it’ll take some time, and it’ll be expensive as hell. It would honestly be cheaper to buy new.”

”I’ll pay for the fix,” he says firmly before he can consider what he’s really agreeing to. “I can’t just replace her.”

Your smile is softer when you look back up at him. “I really admire that.”

Those words shouldn’t have as much of an effect on him as they do.

”I can do the job, but not here. There’s no way my boss would let me take up a lift for as long as I need to actually do a good job, and I don’t believe in doing mediocre work. But I’ve got enough equipment at my place if you trust me?”

You’re not only saving his lady, you’re promising not to screw him like so many people have before. He’s thinking about proposing, but he keeps his cool long enough to say, “yeah. Yeah, I trust you.”

”How much do you know about cars?”

He notices a strand of hair that’s fallen down into your face, and it takes all his restraint to keep himself from pushing it behind your ear for you.

”I know enough,” he says with a modest shrug.

Your eyes shine with something that he can’t identify as you gaze up at him. “Well, if you wanna help me, I’ll only charge you for parts.”

Eddie doesn’t even need to consider. A chance to spend more time with you, and a discount on repairs? “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds great.”

The first night he comes over, it’s the sticky hot of a midsummer Indiana evening. He’s in low-slung faded jeans and a baggy white tank top that shows more of his chest than should be legal. There’s so much lightly tanned skin on display that you can’t decide where to focus—much less consider the engine you’re supposed to be working on. You can’t help asking about each little spot of ink you see on his skin, curious to learn even the smallest nuisances of his personality.

He’s the most interesting person you’ve met in this podunk town since your move to Hawkins from Indianapolis. He’s goofy and aloof, charming yet awkward. He’s so gentle and sweet you can practically smell the saccharine of his words as he speaks. He’s an animated speaker—so passionate about everything he does that he puts his whole body into it. There’s a refreshing energy to him that recharges your social battery as he goes, rather than draining it like everyone else does.

By the second night of working on Eddie’s van with him, you’re close enough to call him a friend. You know what seems like every small detail about him—his favorite color, the story behind the small scar on his left knee.

By the third night, you’re fighting every instinct in your brain to keep from throwing him inside said van and having your way with him.

Especially when you deliver to him a cold glass of iced tea and he drinks it in the sluttiest possible way he can—big gulps that send the condensation on the outside of the glass spilling down his chin to leave little paths of wetness down his neck and chest. It’s like full-on torture.

On the fourth night, you’ve had the engine block completely disassembled and ready for the new crankshaft for a couple days. It’s hard for Eddie to see his baby gutted and torn apart this way, but he knows you’ve got the most capable hands of any mechanic he’s ever known. There’s a delicacy and attention to detail in your craft that he’s never seen before, and he’s enraptured with watching you work. He’s even more enraptured by the sticky glistening of your skin in the red-orange light of sunset every night.

There’s really no reason for him to keep meeting you every single evening—all you’re doing at this point is busywork cleaning various parts because the real work can’t be done until the new parts arrive. Both of you know it, too—but neither of you will admit it. You’ve both come to look forward to these few hours together, comfortable even though you’re both sweaty, sticky, and greasy. Suspending them at this point would be a crime.

There’s just the faintest peek of reddish light left over the horizon when the conversation lulls, but Eddie’s not ready to go quite yet. “You hear Megadeth’s touring in Indy this fall?”

”No shit?”

”No shit. Tickets are probably going fast.”

”We should get some,” you say with a cautious glance over at him. This is it—this is as grand of an invitation as you can work up the courage to make. If he can’t take the bait here, you’ll be forever casting lingering glances and praying he’ll make a more substantial move than just eyeing you up and down like you’re the finest, purest water in a parched desert.

Eddie’s heart rate skyrockets even as he’s willing himself not to read too far into your words. ”Yeah? You’d… wanna go with me?”

”Might be nice. To hang out and do something other than pretend to work on your car.”

”All you had to do was ask, sweetheart,” he says with a look that’s far too smug for his own good on his face. 

Even though it’s a little ridiculous, his cockiness flusters you. ”Wasn’t sure you’d want to.”

”How could I not? I’ve got the girl of my dreams five feet away from me, I’d be crazy to not want to spend every second I can get with her.”

”Oh, is there someone else here?” You try to giggle and make it sound like a lighthearted joke, but it comes out far more flustered than you mean for it to.

”No. Just you.” It’s only three words, yet you’ve never heard anything more fraught with tension in your life. It’s in his dark eyes, in the set of his jaw, in the way his hands clench into fists at his side to keep from reaching for you.

All your eyes can manage to do is trace up the prominent veins in his forearms from his white-knuckled fists. If you meet his eyes, you know your resolve will disappear faster than a delicate snowflake on warm skin.

But he takes a step closer to you, and it’s too late before you can even consider stopping yourself.

His dark eyes are swirling with lust. There’s no mistaking it, no other label for it. It looks animalistic, almost dangerous. He looks like he wants to devour you whole, and you want nothing more than to find out if he will.

”You, umm… need a refill?” You gesture with your eyes to the now empty glass in his hand, then nod toward the house. It’s all the invitation he needs.

The second the door clicks shut behind you, Eddie’s hands are on you. They start on your waist, effectively pinning you against the closed door and using you as an anchor to press himself as close to you as he can.

It’s eager and rushed, even a little sloppy. He kisses wet, he kisses deep. It’s like he’s trying to suck the air straight from your lungs, and you let him. Nothing has ever felt so good before.

“Christ,” he mumbles as his hot lips work their way down your neck. “Been wanting to do this for days.”

There’s a slight tremble in your hands as your fingers work their way into his curls, already nearly overwhelmed with the sensation of his mouth on your overheated skin. “Why didn’t you?”

”Didn’t wanna scare you off,” he confesses. It’s so endearing it pulls a moan from your lips.

“There’s not a lot you could do to scare me off, Eddie.” You mean it; you try to prove it by tugging him closer and slotting him between your legs. You can feel his pent up desire, hard and thick, as it presses against your core through his jeans. The feeling alone makes you ache with desire. It’s like a wave sweeps through you, cascading from head to toe and making everything in its wake prickle with unbearable want. You are molten flame, and he is the only thing that can douse your heat.

No one’s ever had such an astronomical effect on you from doing so little.

Eddie isn’t faring much better. He walks in a fog, blinded by clouding desire—especially so when your leg hitches up and around his hip to tug him harder against you. It’s like his cruise control is set, speed regulating with every incline or downward tilt—adjusting every little movement and touch to draw more breathless moans and whimpers from your parted lips.

A slight tug to his hair snaps him back into his own body, drawing a sudden clarity on the situation. He’s no longer an outsider looking in, as if an astral projection watching and criticizing his every move. Eddie is fully present and hyper-focused on one thing: making sure no other person can ever properly satisfy you again.

”You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs over and over into your skin as he traces kisses over your exposed neck and shoulders. His fingers hook into the strap of your tank top and slide it out of place, making way for a series of open-mouthed kisses as he ensures that not an inch of your skin is neglected.

You keen at his praise and reward him with a gentle tug to his messy curls. “So are you.”

He prickles with affection at your compliment, his cheeks warming in a way that feels completely foreign to him. No one’s ever called him beautiful before—he’s really never thought it could even be applicable to him—but he feels like he could get used to it.

He asks so nicely to take your top off and you give him permission without hesitation. You can see the flash of want in his eyes as he takes in your mostly naked torso, gaze skirting around the boundary of your bra as if he’s too shy to ask again for permission to remove a garment.

You decide to put on a little show as you give him what he wants; you unhook your bra and slide the straps down your arms so achingly slowly he thinks he might combust. And then finally, gloriously, you let the fabric fall to the floor and Eddie gets his first look at your bare chest.

He gapes, open-mouthed, for longer than is frankly comfortable—to the point you’re almost about to cover yourself up again.

And then he says, “Permission to do something highly inappropriate and maybe even a little degrading?”

”Uhh… sure?”

In a flash he’s buried face first in your sternum, hands coming to cup your breasts and dramatically smother himself in your cleavage. He lets out a pleasured groan as you giggle, deft fingers lightly tugging and pinching the sensitive peaks of your nipples. He prickles with pride at the breathy gasp you emit when his mouth starts working—he turns his head to suck one hard mound between his lips and keeps up the pressure with his fingers on the other.

”Sh-shit…” you sigh and slump into his attention, arms hanging like limp ribbons by your sides. “Eddie…”

”Love the way you say my name,” he practically purrs. “So fucking pretty.”

He switches sides now, firmly dragging the flat of his tongue over your nipple before sealing his lips around it and sucking. The pure pressure of it makes you cry out, fingers tugging harshly at his curls.

”Jesus, that feels amazing,” you whine. It’s so good, but it’s not nearly enough at the same time. And it’s like he can sense it—like he’s got some kind of a psychic connection with your body. He adapts immediately to what you need, dropping to his knees to unbutton your jean shorts and deftly slip them down and off your legs. He smooths his palms against your bare thighs and lets you feel the cold kiss of his metal rings against the burning flesh there, all the while looking up at you with dark eyes that you can’t quite identify. There’s lust, sure, but something else in those chocolate orbs. Something akin to adoration—like he’s on his knees preparing to worship you.

”Can I?” Those long, thick fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear and you’re nodding before he’s even finished asking.

You wish you could put the sound he lets out once he finally has you bare on vinyl to repeat over and over again. It’s somewhere between a growl and a whimper, completely heady with desire and want; need, even. The fact that he needs you like this is so overwhelming and flattering that you can barely process it. You don’t have time to, because in a moment his lips are wrapping themselves around your clit and sucking. He goes straight past gentle and into pure pressure just like he did with your nipples; as above, so below. And it’s bliss—thigh-quaking, breath-hitching, earth-shattering bliss.

All you can manage to do is scrabble for purchase against the wall his hands have you pinned to. You have to sound absolutely pathetic, but you can’t be bothered to care because you’re precariously close to coming and it’s only been a matter of minutes.

He moans, like he’s tasting the finest, most expensive and decadent cuisine he’s ever had. The sound vibrates against your pussy and travels up your spine all the way to your brain—it nests there and makes it’s home, drives you into a fuzzy state of ecstasy. And all the while that luxurious tongue is hard at work, alternating between lapping thirstily at your entrance and fluttering against your clit in a way that causes every muscle in your abdomen to contract.

Nothing should be able to feel this good—it’s so desperately close to overwhelming. Simultaneously, you would rather die than lose this feeling is it crescendos to a fever pitch.

”Let go,” he murmurs against you, and you know he’s not talking about your grip on his hair. “It’s okay. I gotcha, let go f’me.”

You’ve never fancied yourself to be the obedient type per se, but apparently your body is feeling particularly traitorous today. It takes all of three more seconds before you’re doing exactly what he said—legs trembling with the burden of your weight as you crash and burn on his tongue. You whine and beg and plead, all of it meaningless babble as he works you over and through your pleasure with that wonderful, amazing, perfect mouth of his.

You don’t even process you’re collapsing, but thankfully Eddie does and catches you with ease. There’s a cocky chuckle in his throat as he lays you down on the floor, and you would smack him for it if he hadn’t earned it. Instead, you grab him by the collar of his shirt a little rougher than mean to and drag him to your mouth, relishing in the high-pitched whine he admits at your light manhandling.

You moan at the taste of yourself on his lips, and Eddie can’t help grinding himself hard against your thigh in an attempt to relieve the pressure of his untouched arousal. This kiss is nasty—wet, gnashing, desperate. There’s no control to it on either end.

”That good, huh?” He mutters into your mouth. His voice is barely more than a whisper—you can’t expect much more when you’re kissing him the way you are, grinding your thigh against his aching cock all the while. And even still, despite his obvious desperation, he manages to be cocky about how hard he made you come.

If you weren’t head over heels for this man before, you certainly are now.

You start tugging at his belt and he chuckles, only growing more sure of himself by the second.

”Wait, baby, lemme take you to bed,” he huffs over the feeling of your hand finally sliding into his jeans where he needs you most.

It makes you gasp when you finally have him in the palm of your hand. As big as he felt through his jeans, nothing could’ve prepared you for this. He’s heavy, achingly thick, and you can feel the way he positively throbs in your grip.

And just as you’re about to agree and show him to your bedroom, you shake your head firmly; because as uncomfortable as this floor is going to feel and as much as your back is going to hate you for it later, you need him now. There’s no time for relocating; if he doesn’t give it to you right now, here in the middle of your living room floor, you think you might perish.

”Right here?” He hums as if he’s not affected at all while he slots himself between your legs. “On the floor? Can’t even wait thirty seconds to let me have you the right way? Dirty girl.”

It’s such a shift in dynamic; not an unwelcome one at all, certainly. But he’s been so shy and timid up until this point—always following your lead, blushing when his hand brushes against yours. You wonder if he’s like this with everyone—if he feels some pressure to perform an act or role, to hide his true personality. 

The thought makes your chest ache a little bit, but you don’t have time to dwell on it because he’s breaking you in half. He’s so slow about it, too; barely pressing his tip into you, giving you time to adjust to every millimeter he gives you. Even still it punches the breath out of your lungs and makes your eyelids flutter at the intrusion.

”Shit.” It’s not spoken so much as whined, and suddenly you’re starkly aware of just how much you’re affecting him. You bite your lip to steady yourself so you can look up at him, and the sight alone is almost enough to unravel you. Unruly curls spill down over his shoulder and dangle in the air over you. His mouth hangs open—fast, shallow breaths make his bottom lip quiver. His pupils are so blown with desire you can barely see the warm chocolatey color of his irises.

You’re suddenly aware that in your desperation, you forgot a very important step. He’s still fully clothed—your legs rub against his t-shirt as his hands hook under your knees to spread you wider for him. You almost feel bad about it; in your haze of arousal his attention to your body has brought on, you’ve forgotten to be attentive to his. It pulls a whine from your lips as your hands unconsciously come to tug at the fabric.

He chuckles but acquiesces—not before you see a flicker of hesitation pass over his face.

It takes a moment to process what you’re looking at as he tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side… and then your jaw drops. ”Shit, Eddie!”

He’s quick to quiet your exclamation with a heated kiss, unintentionally shoving himself that little bit deeper into your cunt. It distracts you, but only for a moment. Then you’re pushing yourself up onto your elbows, trying to wrap your mind around the myriad of deep, whitish-pink scars that litter his torso.

“Eddie, what—“

“Car accident,” he lies before he can think better of it. It’s a story he’s told so many times that he’s almost starting to believe it himself. “Couple years back.”

“Jesus,” you whisper as your fingers trace over the poorly healed lines.

“I know. They’re not pretty.”

That one sentence tells you everything you need to know. “It’s not that,” he assure him. “Just… a miracle you survived something that bad.”

“Yeah,” he hums. “I got lucky.”

He’s deflating a little bit, and the last thing you want him to do is lose that confidence he’s been exuding. You wrap your arms around your neck and pulls him flush against you, feeling every warm inch of his torso against yours as your tongue tangles with his.

“You’re beautiful,” you tell him again. And you mean it.

He draws a gasp from your lips when he presses even closer, every inch of his body covering yours and his length shoved all the way into your needy cunt. It’s almost too much for him—the combination of your tight, wet heat around him; the adoration in your eyes as you look up at him like he’s some kind of god; your hands pulling him closer like you might evaporate if you can’t feel every inch of his body at all times. It’s a heady feeling he’s never experienced before, being wanted this badly. It nearly unravels him—especially when you start bucking your hips up to him in search of the friction you so desperately need.

He sees your need, and it pulls him back into his dutiful role. “I’ve got you, baby.”

He starts with deep, slow thrusts that nearly make you drool—you feel the drag of every single inch against your walls, every vein and ridge and contour. It’s like you’re memorizing the shape of him from the inside out.

One ringed hand slides down your hip and along the length of your thigh to hook beneath your knee, hitching your leg up as high as he comfortably can to spread you wide open for the taking.

You get barely a moment's notice as he draws himself almost all the way out. And then he slams himself back into place—deep, hard, unrelenting. He revels in the sound it draws from you, something between a cry and a plea for more; he silently vows to himself that those little pleasures sounds are going to be all you’re capable of making by the time he’s done with you.

It’s borderline violent, the way he fucks you. His thrusts are relentless and expert in a way you didn’t expect him to be. His lips hardly leave your skin, muffling his moans into hickies and bruises on your neck and chest. His hands grip hard to your body, marks blossoming beneath his fingertips.

You’ve never fallen apart so easily.

“That’s it,” he purrs into your ear as he feels your walls fluttering around him. “Don’t hold back, lemme have it. Please, baby.”

And really, it would be rude to deny him after he’s asked so nicely.

Your orgasm comes like shattered glass. The sound is the first thing you process—your moans drowning out his steady grunts. And then it’s sharp. It drives its shards into your and makes you flinch away from the sensation, so pleasurable it’s almost painful.

You’ve never come just from being fucked before. Sweet, wonderful Eddie carries on working towards his own release like he doesn’t deserve a goddamned award.

“Can I…”

But you’re already nodding, wrapping your legs around his waist and coaxing him deeper—urging him to make a home in the deepest part of you.

He’s not a man who needs to be told twice. He rocks his hips as deep as he can and then presses even closer, the head of him bruising your cervix as he falls apart. And maybe it shouldn’t feel as good as it does, the sensation of him painting your walls with rope after rope or warm, sticky release; but you’re not in the mind to psychoanalyze yourself right now. Instead you do your best to help him through it, lightly ghosting the tips of your fingers in soothing patterns on his back as he pants and shudders.

“Holy…”

“Yeah,” you giggle.

It takes him a few minutes to summon the courage he needs to pull his softening length from your warmth, and he bites down on his lip nearly hard enough to draw blood when he sees the absolute mess that slides down the curve of your ass.

”Jesus H. Christ,” he murmurs. His fingers come to swipe up some of the combined cum before he can stop himself, pushing it back into where he’d spilled it to begin with and relishing in the moan you afford him at the feeling of his thick fingers pressing into your over-sensitive entrance.

He’s so thoroughly enraptured with the sight before him. Your cunt squeezing so tightly around his fingers, cum dripping, desperate to reject due to the overstimulation. And yet you take it without flinching, chest heaving, head falling back against the hardwood floor.

He swipes his thumb over your clit so lightly and yet it still makes you squeeze like a vice around him, and so he does it again. He curls his fingers in search of that spot that made you fall apart so prettily on his cock, and once he finds it he doesn’t relent. That, combined with the light pressure on your clit, is more than enough.

Your thighs tremble, caught indecisively between spreading further open for him and clamping shut on his cum-slicked hand. He watches in awe as your lips part in a silent scream, ass arching up off the floor; and then, as you come down, you have to push him away because it’s finally too much.

”Fuck,” you whimper—he coos so reassuringly as he leans down to gently kiss your lips, errant curls brushing and tickling against your cheeks.

”I know, baby,” he whispers. “God, you’re incredible. Did so good f’me.”

You have to stay still for a moment—let his sweet, gentle kisses bring you back down from the clouds. And then you’re aware of the ache in your back and the absolute puddle forming under your ass, and you push yourself up with a weak groan.

”M’sorry,” he winces in sympathy. “Bed next time, I promise.”

And really, the promise of there being a next time shouldn’t make your heart skip a beat the way it does.

You’re worried things’ll be awkward now, but that’s the furthest thing from the truth. Working with him now is so much more effortless. The tension isn’t as palpable—it’s a fluid thing that you move through confidently now that your feelings and his are known. He isn’t afraid to watch you anymore, awe and adoration in his eyes as you show him how to reassemble the engine block. He observes your skilled fingers at work, and he’s not afraid to tell you how fucking sexy it is to him. He’s not afraid to rest a hand on the small of your back as he stands beside you, even occasionally getting brave enough to let it slip down and cup your ass. He’s not afraid to be his goofy, adorable, manic self—it’s the best metamorphosis you’ve ever seen.

You finish working on his van finally, and he almost tears up at how well she runs now—although he definitely doesn’t let you see that.

And as worried as you were that finishing this job would feel like the end of whatever this is with Eddie, it doesn’t. You feel secure, somehow, that he’ll keep coming back—for more than just parts and labor.

THE END

➔ A/N: thank you as always to @shakespeareanwannabe for putting up with my incessant questions and beta requests 🥹 ily lots

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[twobluejeans]

HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!

charles leclerc x famous!reader

summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.

part 4: emo ponytail girl part 3: DUPEE, part 2: wtf does ET know?, part 1: don’t start

faceclaim: madison beer

ally’s radio 📻: PART 3! thank u guys so much for the love on part 1 & 2. IM SORRY FOR LEAVING YOU ALL IN SUSPENSE BUT IM BACK AND buckle up for some more drama (YASS) and a lot of tswift references 🫶

INSTAGRAM, (july 3)

liked by honeybagerdr, karmaleclerc, and 244,523 others

c16daily Charles seen entering and leaving a restaurant with mysterious girl last night in monaco via @legrandprixclub

View all 33 comments

gaslyleclerc WHO THE FUCK

judeslvr i’m so confused it hasn’t even been a full week??

sharlleclerc i can’t keep defending u man if you keep doing bs like this😭😭

ctrly/n oh wow

s1ut4formula1 copy of y/n

bejeweled.y/n @s1ut4formula1 don’t do y/n like that.

veerstappenmaxemilian someone give me her @ right NEOWW

bbynoriss @veerstappenmaxemilian ON IT

TWITTER,

INSTAGRAM, (stories)

yourinstagram 37m

viewed by chrisevans, sabrinacarpenter, and 567,431 others

yourinstagram (story) 25m

viewed by lewishamilton, landonoriss, and 534,133 others

INSTAGRAM,

liked by latenovembery/n, bloodlinegrande, and 102,345 others

y/nflorals MORE OF Y/N AND FATHER NANDO EATING DINNER AT A RESTAURANT LAST NIGHT IN LONDON.

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444mercedes Y/N’S FERNANDO ALONSO’S DAUGHTER???? WHAT SINCE WHEN??

jpgmacvesstap @444mercedes babe ur so late 😭

lance.strollll no wonder why y/n is so pretty 💀

eversincey/n @444mercedes their relationship is v private. y/n took in her mothers maiden name so that the media wouldn’t connect the two. it’s rare when we see them together bc of their busy lives but yeah i was shocked when i found out too

voguey/n IN FATHER NANDO WE TRUST 🛐

alonsof1 judging by his face ik she dropped some really good tea

missamericanay/n id honestly be shitting my pants if i was charles knowing my ex’s father is essentially my coworker 😭

INSTAGRAM, (stories)

yourinstagram 10m

viewed by zayn, louispartridge_, and 69,123 others

INSTAGRAM,

liked by y/nsonlyangels_, sweetdispositionleclerc, and 567 others

f1paddlockupdates carlos, lando, and daniel have unfollowed charles on instagram.

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ferraribabe i just checked and lance stroll, george russell, and fernando unfollowed him as well 🧍🏽‍♀️

suffering_ferrarifan damn what did homeboy do 😭😭

y/nsredscarf @suffering_ferrarifan cheat obviously

suffering_ferrarifan @y/nsredscarf we literally don’t know that. not believing anything until it comes from y/n or charles themselves 🤷‍♀️

INSTAGRAM,

ally’s radio 📻: SO YEAH. this was a little filler but might be dropping part 4 later on today to make up for the time i’ve been gone! thanks so much for the love! so fascinating n cool to hear ur ideas and feedback, v much appreciated. what r our thoughts??

taglist🦢🪩: @incoherenciass @dakotali @405rry @topaz125 @sassyheroneckgiant @hevburn @itsmytimetoodream @ivegotparticulartaste @crowdedimagines @asterianax @haydee5010 @scenesofobx @christinabae @magical-spit @dessxoxsworld @myareadsbooks @honethatty12 @hopefulinlove @diasnohibng @gentlemonsterjennie1 @hummusxx @eugene-emt-roe @taestrwbrry @pejarma @cxcewg @chimchimjiminie16 @glow-ish

[povofjustme]

The Queen of Death

Part (1/?)

Fandom- House of the Dragons

Being Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys first born, your farther heir

Your were the most sweet and kindest child and that stayed with your until you were a maiden

But you never forget that you are Princess Rhaenys (the queen who was never) is your mother, your leaned many things over the years from her

You were a year younger that Rhaenyra and your grow up together

You both even claimed your dragon (Vermithor) at the same time as each other

Your were best friends and told each other everything

Even your little crush on one of the king’s guards Harwin Strong

You thought nothing would never changed your friendship

Even when she married your younger brother Leanor Velaryon’s and your marrying your first love Harwin

but your were mistaken when your was hold little baby Jacaerys

Your were heart broken when you was holding the babe in your arms

-Over the years your knew that Rhaenyra and Leanor marriage wasn’t perfect but she told you they have arrangement

But she never told you it was with your fucking husband

“I guess the little babe has more Arryn then targaryen”

That was the last thing you said before going mute

Your never felt so betrayed

Your husband, your best friend and your brother

Your cried in your mothers are for days and still hasn’t said a word, Rhaenys was heartbroken

She couldn’t done nothing but hold you

If Rhaenys was the ask the king for annulment the king would say no, just to keep Rhaenyra safe from the rumors

“Cousin you can not be that stupid” r

“Rhaenys watch yourself, we are family but am still king” v

“REALLY want to talk about family, Rhaenyra should learn the meaning of family!”

So her daughter had to stay in the marriage, but she would do everything to keep her first safe

Corlys was furious, there are no word to explain

He wants to pack up his daughter things and move her back to Driftmarks

But Harwin wouldn’t let it happen, after the birth of Jacaerys your wouldn’t speak a word to him

“She is my wife and she will not be going anywhere!”

He would try to grab your had and you would pull away

Ask you to had dinner with him and only meet with no response

Try to get physical and say ..

“I think is time for a baby” h

“….” Y/n walk out the room

And when your move out of your shard quarters together, he know he had lost you

Rhaenyra would do anything to get you back

She would try to have you break her fast with her in the morning - your mother would shut it down in a heartbeat

Tried having you go on walks in the garden with her and Jace but would find you with Queen Alicent children instead

Tried flying with you but be Vermithor would have Rhaenyra lost in the clouds and lost site of you

Even tried summoning you to dinner and sit right next to her, she would talk and talk to try to get something out of you

Even tried telling that Harwin didn’t mean a thing but then get caught up in her words, everything comes out bad

But you never utter a word

And you used it against everyone, even the king hisself

“So y/n how have you been feeling” v said in front of the dinner table “I heard you been unwell” v

“….” You

“Y/n-“ v

“Cousin leave her be” r

The king would try to talk to you but Your mother had your back no matter what

Some people found it rude or disrespectful but you had no feeling left to give

Everyone saw the change in you, you were the girl who was smile at everything and one

And now they never seen a smile on your face, unless it was with the Queens children

It’s been months since the birth of Jacaerys, the king was having a tournament for the babe, all the lords and lady’s where coming to celebrate

The looks and the whispers alone was getting louder and you couldn’t take it

You stood next your husband at the feast, when you saw that everyone was distracted you took your chances

In your room, your grabbing your ridding gear, a few pouches of gold coins. Not needing any else but the clothes on your back

Found your way to the dragon pit, got on Vermithor and fly

You didn’t know where you was going but you knew it was away from kings landing

Flying for hours, you found yourself in a storm

-Vermithor having a hard time trying to navigate again it….

Thing everything went black……

When you wake up, you were on a island… The death Island

(Had this in my head for awhile, don’t know how many parts but let me know if you want this in story!!)

[flawdchaos]

pressure

lando norris x reader blurb

tw - a little smutty, alcohol, clubbing

description - night dancing & celebrating lando’s maiden win

a/n - inbox is still open if you’d like to send in blurb requests. v happy to fill some because the semester is finished and i’ve got some more time on my hands now. also, pls leave me some feedback :) trying to grow as a writer!

-

lando’s first f1 win came with big celebrations : champagne showers, clubbing in miami, plenty of drinks and good vibes that were shared with the entirety of the f1 grid. y/n was more than happy to sit back and watch her boyfriend bask in his post victory glory but she was getting antsy. the thump of the bass mixed with the vodka crans she had downed had her desperate for the curly headed boys attention. she debated going up to him, grabbing his arm and pulling him away for herself but she decided it against it, not wanting any negative press mixed in after his big win. instead, she sat, legs bouncing erratically in the booth until he noticed her absence and made his way to her.

“you okay, love?” he yelled, leaning down towards her ear to make sure she heard him over the music.

“of course. i just can’t wait to get you all to myself.” she quipped, a smirk making its way onto her lips. “but for now, mr. miami, i want you to go soak all of this in.” lightly shoving on his shoulder to urge him back to his celebrations.

“not unless you come with me. i think it’s only fair mr. miami gets a dance with his missus.” he was grabbing and pulling at her hand before she could realize.

“lan, baby, what about all the press?”

“who gives a fuck. i’m the champion tonight.” he spoke, chest poking out proudly. her face quickly lit up and butterflies danced across her stomach.

“you’re damn right you are.”

-

the music had only gotten louder and the drinks stronger as the night progressed. lando had his arms slung around her shoulders, rocking her back and forth to the music as he carried on a conversation with max. she was about to make another trip to the bar when the familiar pound of the bass drew her back to lando’s body.

“who did you pay to play martin?” she laughed up at him as his friends song had their bodies beginning to melt together.

“nobody,” he shook his head, hands coming to rest on her hips from behind. “but i’m glad somebody did.”

y/n’s head lulled back onto his shoulder as his hands took control of her hips, pulling her unbelievably closer. her eyes fluttered closed as the alcohol coursed through both of their bodies, lights illuminating around them, each of them yearning to be closer. her hips raked against his body as he did his best to keep his composure. her head turned up to his, lips meeting in a aggressive battle for dominance as their sweaty bodies continued to merge into one.

she was the first to pull away for air but the sway of their bodies never faltered.

“call an uber, mr miami.”