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rynwritesreid · 6 months ago

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Feel so close| Spencer Reid

A/N: if anyone has any good ideas for angst or fluff, or wants to send some requests through. Please do. I obviously love all of your smut requests (i truly do) but I would also love some angst and fluff ones (heavy on the angst ones).

Summary: It’s yours and Spencer’s wedding night and you want to give him what he has always wanted.

Content: Fem!reader. Fluff. Smut. 18+ MDNI. Oral (r!receiving). Creampie. P in V. Slight dom/sub undertones. Breeding kink. Very fluff filled sex I won’t lie. Porn with a plot.

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

Spencer was so close to living his dream life, and he could not be any happier. He had just seen his dream girl walk down the aisle to become Mrs Reid. And while he couldn’t be any happier, there was one thing, or really rather a few things, missing that would make his life perfect.

As he watched the last of the guests fade away, he couldn’t wait to take you to your shared hotel room. He couldn’t stop staring at you, knowing that tonight was the beginning of your forever together.

As you both entered the elegant suite, Spencer couldn’t get enough of how you looked in your wedding dress, but he also couldn’t wait to get it off you.

His hands trembled with anticipation as he reached out to caress the delicate lace adorning your shoulder. The room was aglow with the soft light of a dozen candles, casting flickering shadows across your face.

He leaned in to press a tender kiss against your lips, savouring the sweetness of the moment. “I love you Mrs Reid.” Spencer whispered, his voice filled with love and adoration. You smiled back at him, feeling a rush of warmth and happiness in your chest.

“I love you more, Dr Reid.” You whispered back, your voice barely above a breath.

His heart swelled with joy at your words, feeling like the luckiest man alive. He gently lifted you into his arms, carrying you towards the luxurious four-poster bed adorned with rose petals.

“You know there is only one thing right now that could make me even happier.” Spencer grinned mischievously as he lowered you onto the soft mattress, the petals fluttering around you like a fragrant snowfall. His eyes sparkled with desire as he leaned into whisper in your ear.

"What's that?" you asked, your voice laced with anticipation, your heart pounding with excitement at the prospect of what was to come.

“If you were to become pregnant with my child.” Spencer gently confessed; his voice filled with hope.

“I’m sure we can make that happen, Spencer.” You whispered back, a playful glint in your eyes. “I know you have always wanted to be a dad.”

Spencer's face lit up with pure happiness at your words, his heart overflowing with love for you. Without wasting another moment, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss, letting all his emotions pour into the moment.

Spencer carefully started to undress you, his movements slow and reverent as if unwrapping a precious gift. The air was thick with desire and anticipation as he leaned in to kiss every inch of your exposed skin, worshipping you like a devoted lover.

“You are officially my pretty girl now.” Spencer murmured against your skin; his hand was placed on your stomach “I can’t wait to see carrying my child.”

With a loving smile, you traced your fingers along his jawline, savouring the moment. “And I can’t wait to start a family with you, Spencer,” you whispered, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world to have him by your side.

Once your dress had come completely off, Spencer couldn’t take his eyes of your white lingerie that hugged your curves in all the right places. Desire burned in his eyes as he slowly removed his own clothes, every movement deliberate and filled with longing.

In that moment, nothing else existed for Spencer except for you, the woman who held his heart in her hands. As he kissed you with a hunger that spoke of all the love and passion he felt.

Spencer slowly started kissing his way down your body, leaving no part of you neglected. His mouth was tender and passionate as he explored every inch, savouring each taste and touch. You laid there, feeling like the most desired woman in the world, your body responding to his every move.

His hands traced delicate patterns over your skin, sending ripples of desire through you. His lips then lingered at the base of your neck, and you could feel the heat from his breath. It was a gentle yet powerful affirmation of his deep love for you.

Your breathing became shallow and quick as Spencer continued his exploration, and you found yourself arching your back, inviting him closer. He seemed to sense your need and desire, and his own lustrous eyes betrayed the intensity of his own cravings.

When his lips finally reached the most intimate part of your body, a soft gasp escaped your lips. His touch was gentle yet so powerful in its ability to awaken you, and you knew that no one else could make you feel this way.

As his lips continued to lavish attention upon you, your entire body seemed to come alive with electricity, every nerve ending firing in response to his tender caresses.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, and whispered, "Spencer, I need you inside me more than ever. I want to feel you, I want to feel you complete me." Your voice trembled with desire as you spoke.

Spencer looked into your eyes, his love for you a fiery catalyst. He positioned himself over you, the anticipation making his heart race with excitement. With a deep breath, he slowly entered you, the feeling of the warmth and tightness of your body around him, unparalleled.

He slowly began to move, his rhythm in perfect harmony with the pulse of your body, matching the rhythm of your breath as his love for you grew with every stroke.

Spencer once again placed his hand on your lower stomach, he knew realistically he couldn’t feel himself, but he cherished every moment, every sensation, every feeling of being deep within you. He kissed you gently, passionately, and whispered soft encouragement, "It won't be long before I can feel you carrying my child."

Your breaths became more ragged, you wanted nothing more than to make Spencer a dad, to let everyone know you belonged to him. And so, you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper inside you, increasing the intensity of the moment.

Spencer's eyes locked with yours, the love and desire in them impossible to resist. He moved faster, his pace becoming more urgent, as he sought to fulfil your shared dream. Your bodies moved in perfect sync.

Every muscle in your body tightened in response to his touch, as your climax drew closer with each thrust, a primal urge to merge with him and create new life together overwhelmed you.

Spencer wasn’t far from his own release. His heart was pounding in his chest, and a sense of awe and gratitude washed over him as he felt himself getting closer.

With one final thrust, Spencer cried out your name, his pleasure mingling with the tenderness of the moment. His heart overflowed with love and gratitude.

He collapsed onto you, his breath ragged and his heart pounding in your ears. You held onto him, feeling the pulse of his heart against the warmth of your skin, and a bond stronger than any connection you'd ever known.

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#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #dom spencer reid #sub reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine

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heauxvibez · 5 months ago

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Cognac Queen

Warning: smut (18+)

I'm fucking a baller, we courting I'm making it clap, he record it (damn) And he keep on making them noises (yeah) Damn, fuck, shit ooh (fuck, oh)

With a gentle grip, you tilted his head back with your left hand, feeling the coarse texture of his beard hairs against your palm as you positioned his throat perfectly. In your right hand, you held the glass bottle of cognac, its rich brown color catching the light as you angled it above his open mouth. Slowly, you poured it in a steady stream, ensuring he didn't miss a drop.

"There ya go, baby," you whispered softly, your voice gentle and soothing.

As you watched the liquor cascade into his mouth, you couldn't resist the urge to mimic his actions, your lips parting slightly mirroring him. The drink filled his mouth, and a soft, involuntary moan escaped his throat—a signal for you to stop.

You pulled the bottle back, a smirk playing on your lips as he lifted his head to swallow. His Adam’s apple bobbed with the effort, and you could see the tension in his jaw as he forced down the remnants of the drink. He shook his head slightly and let out a shuddering breath as the liquid burned its way down his throat, leaving a fiery trail that led to his stomach. He could feel the intense heat spread through his chest.

You could feel the bristly hairs of his beard still tingling in your palm. He was never really a cognac person; you knew that. Whiskey was more his style—a comfort drink he rarely ventured out of. Yet, here you were, straddling his lap as he took it to the head on his luxurious, comfortable couch in the dimly lit living room. The soft glow from a few candles cast gentle shadows around the room, highlighting the expressions on your faces. The faint sound of Megan Thee Stallion played in the background, weaving beats through the air and your body.

A wave of chills coursed through him, starting at his legs and rippling upward. "Jesus," he murmured under his breath, his voice rough and strained.

You couldn't help but gently wipe away the lingering liquid that had dripped from his bottom lip with your thumb. The cognac's rich aroma wafted up as you did so, making your mouth water. Without thinking, you quickly brought your thumb to your mouth, savoring the taste that you adored. Cognac, specifically E40's 'Typhoon VSOP', was your favorite type of liquor— smooth and spicy, with a warmth that spread through your body and a depth of flavor that lingered on your tongue. It always got the job done, providing a special something that other drinks never could.

Unlike dark liquor, clear spirits always seemed to sit heavily at the bottom of your stomach, their sharpness leaving you with the worst nausea in the world. The unpleasant aftereffects were a stark reminder of why you preferred dark.

You leaned over, carefully placing the bottle on the small table next to the couch. As you did, his hand found its way to your hips, steadying you with a firm grip. Once the bottle was secure, you straightened up, turning your attention back to him.

With a tender gesture, you placed both of your hands on his face, your fingers threading through the black and gray hairs of his beard. Your thumbs traced soothing circles on his flushed cheeks, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin. You could tell he was already feeling the effects of the drink—the telltale signs were all there.

His lips curved into a lazy, contented smile, and his heavy-lidded eyes flickered with intoxication. Soft, wavy tendrils of hair dangled from his loose ponytail and around his temples and forehead as he gazed into your eyes, his look lingering before dropping to your lips, then back up to meet your eyes again. The feelings were deep and you both couldn't help but fall deeper with each other in moments like this.

Your pulse quickened as his hands slowly slid from your hips, slipping beneath the shirt you wore—a shirt that happened to be his. The fabric, soft and familiar, was a comforting reminder of him. You were dressed only in his oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties, your skin exposed and sensitive to his touch. Despite his hands typically being roughened from hard work, they felt surprisingly gentle as they explored the smooth skin of your back.

He traced a path up and down your bare back, you moaned softly, the sound escaping your lips involuntarily as his fingers moved with tender pressure. The warmth of his hands heated up your body the same way the alcohol did.

"You really are the Cognac Queen, ain't you?" he teased. He licked his lips and shifted his hips subtly, the motion causing the growing bulge beneath his sweatpants to press against your wetness through the thin fabric of your panties.

"Yup, Megan Thee Stallion ain't got shit on me," you teased back. He chuckled, the sound deep and rich. His laugh was just as intoxicating as the liquor coursing through both of your veins. The combination of his laughter and the lingering effects of the drink made your head spin slightly but in the best way.

His hands traveled slowly from your back down to your ass, his touch a bit possessive. Your hands moved to his shoulders, gripping them for support as you lifted yourself slightly, giving him better access. He took the opportunity to grasp your cheeks firmly, his hands squeezing and massaging them. The sensation of his strong hands kneading your flesh made you weak. Your pussy began to pulsate against him.

"Her knees don't got shit on yours either," He lifted you up slightly signaling for you to plant your feet onto the couch. You popped yourself onto your tippy toes and continued to steady yourself using his shoulders.

"You ain't ever lied," you replied while eyeing him mischievously. You started to move, popping your ass to the rhythm of the music that filled the room. Your movements were fluid and sensual, each motion perfectly timed to the beat.

Soft grunts escaped his lips, now flushed red from the blood rushing to his face. His low, half-lidded eyes remained fixed on you, observing your every move with admiration as your hips worked against him. You were completely in your element, your body moving with the same confidence you had when you were out with your friends.

He enjoyed watching you, it reminded him of the way Megan Thee Stallion did when she squatted down to her knees, rocking her hips back and forth. You embodied that same energy, and he couldn't help but be entranced by the sight.

"Can you do that with it in you though?" he challenged with his voice low and provocative while watching his bulge only grow bigger. Slowly, he looked up at you, one eyebrow raised. The question hung in the air, daring you to respond.

You paused your movements, the stillness making the tension thick. Your eyes locked onto his playfully. You raised your own eyebrow in response. The corner of your mouth curved to the side as you were ready to meet his challenge head-on.

"Baby..now you know I can do that.." you stated with pure confidence. With his hands still gripping your hips firmly, he responded without words, thrusting his hips upward once again. The sudden movement pressed his bulge directly against your throbbing wetness for the second time, the friction eliciting an immediate moan from your lips.

"Then show me," he whispered huskily. His wish was immediately your command. Without question, you stood from his lap, slipping out of your panties with a graceful motion. He wasted no time, quickly pulling his black sweatpants and briefs down to his ankles, his dick springing free.

You got back on the couch, straddling him once again, your bare skin pressing against his. The tension between you was almost overwhelming. You reached down and grabbed his hardened member, feeling the warmth and firmness in your hand. A small groan escaped his lips at your touch.

He pulsed in your palm, his dick throbbing with need, begging to be enveloped by your walls. You could feel your pussy reacting with the same desperation, the slickness of your arousal making it clear how much you craved him. You were both ready to lose yourselves in each other.

You began to tease both yourself and him, sliding his dick back and forth against your slit with a slowness. The sensation was damn near torture, each glide sending you to the moon. His hardness pressed against your slick folds, the friction driving the both of you insane. You could feel his pre-cum mixing with your own juices.

As his tip brushed against your throbbing clit, you could see him struggling to maintain control. His breathing became ragged, and his chest heaved with each breath. His tip was already drowning in your essence, slick and glistening from the contact. The sight of him so close to losing himself made you almost do the same.

He threw his head back against the couch, his eyes squeezing shut as a whispered string of curses escaped his lips. The guttural sounds of his moans resonated through the room, each curse followed by a sharp breath. His neck muscles tightened, and veins stood out against his flushed skin as he struggled to maintain control.

"Uhn uhn, baby, you better look at me while I put it in. I wanna see that handsome face," you demanded with a soft rasp. He let out a breathy chuckle at your words, finding it cute how you tried to exude the same confidence that came so naturally to him. He had half a mind to be disobedient, to assert his dominance with a stern "No," but the situation was different now. The warm buzz of liquor flowing through his veins, combined with the intoxicating sensation of your juices dripping down his dick, had softened him. At that moment, he was ready to do anything you asked, completely captivated by the power you had over him.

His eyes flickered open, dark and intense, locking onto yours as you slid down his length. You wrapped around him so tightly, his grip on the decorative couch pillows couldn't compare to the grip you had on him. He clung to the pillows, his knuckles white with the effort, but it was clear that your pussy had the stronger hold. His eyes never left yours, maintaining the intense eye contact just as you had demanded. His brows furrowed in concentration, lips parted as moans and gasps escaped him.

Your stomach fluttered at the sight, a rush of butterflies adding to the dizzying arousal. Your heart skipped a few beats, the rhythm stuttering under the weight of the moment. Although this was what you had asked for, you could barely handle the sight yourself. The intimacy of watching his every reaction, knowing you were the cause, was almost too much to bear.

"I can't. Fuck, wait baby." he moaned out. Roman couldn't believe the words tumbling from his mouth. Was he really tapping out on the first stroke? The pleasure crashed over him in powerful waves. Maybe if you allowed him to throw his head back and close his eyes, he'd be able to push through, to regain some semblance of control. But he was so entranced by you, by the way you moved, the way your body enveloped his, that he felt completely vulnerable in more ways than one. Your presence, your gaze, held him captive, it left him utterly exposed. He fought to hold on, to not lose himself entirely.

You also found yourself melting at your own request. You had never had him begging like this before, and the sight and sound of his desperation was different for you. Your knees wanted to give in, and your pussy pulsed around him, gripping his dick tighter and eliciting another deep moan from him. The liquor had a completely different effect on you than it did on him. It made him weaker, and more vulnerable, while you felt a surge of power.

With a slow lick of your lips, you wrapped your hand around his throat. You began riding him, moving up and down with nice strokes. Your titties bounced in time with your hips. You couldn’t help but use your free hand to grab one of your breasts, pinching and twisting your nipple while you watched his face intently.

He remained obedient, his eyes fixed on yours, filled with awe. They didn’t stray from your gaze, except for the occasional moment when they rolled back in sheer ecstasy, only to quickly find their way back to yours. The sight of him fueled your confidence even more. His moans grew louder, matching your movements.

"Mmm, but you can baby. You can take it.. you're doing so good.." you praised, your voice a sultry murmur. As you spoke, you shifted the movement of your hips, no longer lifting and dropping but instead rocking back and forth. The change in pace earned a very faint whimper from his lips.

You were stunned at how you were able to take him, his thick length hitting your most sensitive spot repeatedly with each roll of your hips. The sensation was almost too much. Your moans reverberate through the living room and with the soft strains of music playing in the background. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and sex as you loved on each other.

Your knees began to burn, a dull ache that was overshadowed by the feeling building in the pit of your stomach. The signs of your orgasm were unmistakable, and the feeling grew stronger with every thrust. Your movements became more frantic, more desperate, each rock of your hips driving you closer to the edge. You could see the intensity in his eyes, feel the tremors in his body, and you knew he was right there with you.

"Fuck, look at us baby. Look at what you make me do.." you murmured. Slowly, your hand trailed up his throat, the pads of your fingers grazing his skin until you reached his jaw. You tilted his head downward, forcing him to witness the sight of his dick sliding in and out of your slick, swollen folds.

The visual was mesmerizing. His eyes widened as he took in the view of your bodies joined together, the creamy ring of your pussy forming at the base of his length, glistening with each thrust. The sound of your wetness grew louder, filling his ears with the sound he loved the most.

"Only you can make me feel this way, baby," you moaned softly as you slowed your pace, allowing him to savor every sensation. You wanted to make sure he could see and feel the tugs and pulls your pussy caused around his dick. You wanted him to see the effect he had on you, to witness the power of his touch.

In the background, Megan's music continued to play. The beat motivated you to continue, urging you to ride in time with the music, each thrust synchronized with the melody. He couldn't hear anything but the soft, sensual moans that slipped past your lips and the soft gushy sounds of your pussy.

"Baby, if you keep talking me like that, I'm gonna nut," he confessed, his breath still in ragged gasps as his eyes remained fixed on him fucking you.

You made him look back at you, locking eyes with him, a mischievous smirk on your lips. "Then I guess I'm gonna keep talking, baby,"

"Whose dick is this, baby?" you questioned. Your orgasm loomed on the horizon, but you were going to make sure he came first. There was no way you were going to let yourself finish before him.

He threw his head back once more, a low groan escaping his lips as he surrendered to you. "It's yours," he whispered into the air. In that moment, there was no doubt that you owned him completely, body and soul.

"Aht, look at me, daddy," You could see his jaw clench at your words as his orgasm approached. He exhaled deeply, a sound that echoed through the room, before reluctantly lifting his head back up, his hands still clutching onto the pillows with a desperate grip.

"Whose dick is this?" you asked again as your hips rocked faster, urgently driving you both toward the edge of ecstasy. You felt his dick stiffen up beneath you, he was on the brink of release.

"It's yours, it's yours, fuck, it's yours," he groaned, his voice filled with need as his orgasm coursed through him. "Fuck, I'm cumming," he moaned, the words torn from his lips as you continued to ride him through his orgasm. His hands abandoned the pillows, reaching instead for your hips, holding onto you as his climax washed over him, his body tensing and trembling with the force of it.

You didn't let up, still working to chase down your own release, feeling yourself getting closer with each thrust. The sensation of him filling you up only added to the moment, pushing you ever closer to the brink as well.

Now it's his turn.

With a firm grip, he gathered your hair, pulling it back into a ponytail with his right hand, while his left hand remained steady on your hips, guiding and supporting you through the waves of pleasure.

"You gonna nut for me, babygirl?" His deep voice resonated through your ears, igniting something deep in your core. With sweat trickling down your forehead, your body responded tirelessly to him.

You nodded eagerly, your breath hitching as you felt the tension building in you. Every movement, every thrust, brought you closer to the edge, and you were determined to let go under his touch. His hands worked perfectly, one guiding your movements while the other maintained a firm grip, grounding you.

As you continued to ride him, he met your thrusts with his own, his hips rising to meet yours almost in a dance against the music. His movements were deep, each one grazing your G-spot, sending you into a frenzy.

"Daddy's hitting that spot, ain't I?" he questioned watching you tremble on his lap. "There you go, that’s it baby. Cum for me." As your body responded eagerly to him, your essence flowed freely along his dick, creating a trail down it and pooling onto his thighs. The orgasm brought a constellation of stars behind your eyelids.

As his thrusts increased, your trembling knees struggled to support you, eventually succumbing to ecstasy. He showed no signs of stopping, his need driving him to ravish you with endless strokes.

Your head found solace in the curve of his neck, and your fingers tightened their grasp on his broad shoulders, desperately seeking an anchor.

“Please..” you begged, eyes watering as the torture continued. His hips felt like the pounding of a machine, driving deeper and deeper into the depths of your soul.

"Nah...", his fingers stayed entwined firmly in the curls of your hair, with a gentleness that still demanded your attention, coaxing you into meeting his gaze again. He was ensuring that there was no escape from his eyes.

"Since this dick belongs to you," he continued, his tone filled with a possessiveness that sent a thrill coursing through your veins, "you gon take it like it belongs to you."

-----------------------------------------

Shoutout to @caramelcleopatraa for being my inspo for actually pushing this out💐🩷

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @sortudademais @empressdede @alichesmi

@msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @blacst4r @sassginamillls @wrestlingprincess80

@headoftheetable @trashbin-nie @tshepisho @mzv11 @sheyaish

@saintmagx

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #wwefanfic #romanreignsimagine #wwe #romanreignsoneshot #roman reigns smut #fanfiction #roman reigns x black reader

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concretecultist · 4 months ago

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Pomegranates & Pleasure

summary: a hot, steamy, sensual night with Noah (requested)

pairing: fem!reader x noah sebastian

word count: 4.8k

warnings: 18+ !!! smut, shower sex, mentions of lube (bc sometimes we need a lil help), allusion to blood kink if you squint, p in v , oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, this could be a loose installment to the “Kingdom Come” universe

A/N: as always, be sure to comment and reblog if you enjoyed! it helps us writers out a lot!!🩵

~Berry🫐

—————

Noah had only been home for a few days, just getting off from tour and he couldn’t keep his hands off of you, saying that he needed to make up for lost time but honestly you weren’t complaining. Especially when he walked in the front door with a shit-eating-grin on his face along with bags in his hands. With an arched brow, you tilted your head at his ornery demeanor.

“What are you up to?,” You were sitting on the couch in one of his t-shirts, a simple pair of black cotton panties underneath and a novel in your lap.

“You’ll see in just a few, I gotta set everything up,” he rushed over to kiss your lips and you could hear the mischievous tone in his voice as he rushed off to the kitchen and then up stairs to your shared room. Noah was always the type to plan surprises like this, each one being better than the last and it always started like this, the playful yet nervous look in his eyes and always telling you to be on standby.

So, you continue flipping the pages of your book, immersing yourself into the content. You didn’t really pay attention to how much time had passed, finding it better to fully distract yourself and almost forget that he’s getting his surprise ready so that you’re not a sitting duck with an anxious tummy.

“Baby,” he sang, such a happy tune that had you grinning from ear to ear and somehow, it grew even wider when he stood at the bottom step with his hand extended, waiting for you to get up and take it.

You rushed over to him, bouncing on the balls of your feet while looking up at him.

“What have you got planned?,”

“Nothing like we’ve done before, so I need you to keep an open mind,” raising his brows as if he’s waiting for any hesitation from you.

“I’m sure it’s going to be great, baby. You always make it great for us,” sultriness bleeding into your tone, your hand running up his stomach to his chest over his black tank top, twirling his chain with your pointer finger, “I’m getting excited so why don’t we head up there, yeah?,”

With a simple smirk, he threads his fingers with yours and leads you up the dark stairs and down the dark hallway to your room in which a deep maroon glow is emitting from below the door.

The aroma of fresh fruit and cream make their way into your vicinity, setting off your olfactory senses and triggering a physical response from you, stimulating your body before you’re even fully in the room.

When you cross the threshold, you see candles lit everywhere, a blanket spread out on the floor with a glass plate. On that plate is a cut open pomegranate, its juices pooling beneath the bloomed fruit. Alongside the pomegranate, are cherries, whipped cream and an expensive bottle of red wine with one of your fanciest glasses.

Your mind takes you to the possibilities of what’s to come and you can feel your body beginning to vibrate with excitement. This was about to be a night of luxurious highbrow adventures.

“Wanna sit with me?,” he gently pulls you over to the blanket and sits first, bringing you down to sit right in front of him.

“What inspired this surprise?,” popping a cherry in your mouth, admiring the fact that he took the time to take the pits out.

“Oh, y’know,” he shrugs, opening the wine and pouring you a glass, taking it upon himself to hold it by the stem and tilt it toward you, he wanted to feed you the wine. He’s in a trance over the way your lips wrap around the rim, eyes going dark as the crimson liquid adorned your lips.

“Just a sucker for making my girl cum under red lighting”

You almost asphyxiate on your wine, caught off guard by his nonchalance of what he just verbalized.

“Oh?,”

He just sends that signature smoldering look and scoots closer to you after setting the wine down and handing you the glass. His hands immediately find your thighs and begin massaging them as you sip away and eat your cherries.

“Plus,” he began, “You deserve it. You deserve to be doted on. Holding me down and supporting me while I’m on the road, it’s the least I could do,”

“You know it’s no problem, honey,” voice dropping an octave, scooting closer to where your arms are around his neck and your legs are around his waist while his legs are still stretched out around you.

It didn’t take long for you to finish your wine, setting the empty vessel to the side, and it definitely didn’t take long to feel the beverage coursing through your veins.

Your eyes flickered down to his lips and he didn’t even give you a chance to lean in before his hand is on the back of your neck and your lips enter a dance, moving to a tempo you two made, the moans and whimpers escaping being the ad libs to the song your bodies created. The both of you are grabbing at each other, just needing to feel the other beneath your fingertips.

Noah pulled away for air to stare at your wet, kiss swollen pout, humming in satisfaction. He reaches over to pluck a cherry off the plate, it’s soaked in pomegranate juice and it drips onto your chin when he brings it to your lips. He surprises you when his tongue licks it away before it falls onto the blanket without a trace. When he pulls away he whispers to you

“Open for me, Pretty,” the pet name making your heart skip a beat

You follow his command with ease and he presses the soft cherry onto your tongue with his thumb. In the midst of looking him in his eyes, your lips wrap around the digit and he audibly groans at the sensation. Withdrawing with pop, you slowly chew the cherry, swallowing the tart bulb.

“It’s about to get a little messy,” Noah admitted, his hands making their way under the top you claimed as yours, “Gonna undress you. Gonna treat you so good,”

The space was getting hot and you weren’t sure if it was due to all the candles or if it’s because you have an idea of what he had planned and it excited you with how erotic it is.

When you’re bare in front of him, he props you up on a few pillows. He reaches for something out of view and you don’t really care to follow his hands, he just looks so good like this, the line work of his tattoos popping under the ruby lighting, his hair framing his face and his muscles taut under his skin. You just wanted to pounce on him.

A small bowl comes into view, a deep hue like blood but with the fluidity of water.

Pomegranate juice.

“I told you,” he grabs one of your legs to rest on his shoulder, pouring a small of the juice on your ankle, mesmerized by the trail it makes down your leg, “This is going to be messy,”

He dips his head near your core, kissing on your inner thigh, then flattening his tongue to lick his way back up to your ankle, lapping up the trail of the juice.

The sight of watching him lick fresh fruit juice off your legs had your pussy throbbing, bucking your hips up just for a little something, but he repeated this motion a few more times just to get you worked up. Sucking and biting like you’re a cool, ripe mango on a hot summer day. Little sighs and whimpers falling from your lips, just wanting him all over you.

Then he crawls forward, softly kissing your lips when his fingers begin circulating your clit.

“Open that pretty mouth for me again,”

Following his directions, he fed you some pomegranate seeds, “Keep yourself grounded, we don’t want you choking,”

He didn’t give you time to reply before he’s pushing his lengthy fingers into you, immediately curling when you begin to chew. The flavor coating your taste buds, taking over your senses as he moves within you, causing your head to fall back when swallowing the sweetly sour seeds

“Baby, that feels so good,” muttering softly, your pussy drinking in his thrusting fingers. You don’t flinch when you feel juice being poured down your neck, dripping to your hardened nipple. Noah catches a glimpse of this and instantly wraps his warm, wet mouth around the bud, drinking in the flavor of the juice and the taste of your skin. His fingers sped up as his thirst was getting quenched, his tongue flattening once more to lick up to your chest until he’s latching onto the sensitive spot on your neck.

Your moans bounce off the walls, your hand tangles in his hair, pushing him further into your skin, pathetic noises fall from your lips while you beg unabashedly. He retreats to feed you more of the jewel-like seeds and drips more juice over your torso, sucking and biting on the flesh that awaited his arrival.

Noah made sex such a beautiful thing. It never got boring and right now, he’s making you feel like you’re the rarest fruit and he’s the only one deserving to taste it.

He is.

The red juice paints your body like he’s a vampire who is carelessly drinking from his apprentice, letting the life force drip past his teeth.

“Fuck, Noah. Baby, please” feeling his tongue and mouth all over you with his fingers deep inside had you reeling.

When he pulls away, you’re under the impression that he’ll pour more juice on your skin, except his fingers come into view and they have fluffy white cream all over them. You notice the tub of whipped cream beside him, wondering when he was finally going to use it.

He holds his fingers to your lip, playfully swiping some on your bottom lip and smirking. His fingers still move inside of you when he leans forward to lick the whipped cream off your lips and push his tongue into your mouth. The sweetness of the whipped cream along with Noah’s natural taste was a delicious combo and it gets even better when he pulls away to insert his fingers into your mouth, pressing them onto your tongue once more. The top notes of the sugary cream in addition to the middle notes of the cherry and pomegranate juice and the base notes of his flesh was intoxicating.

His eyes never left your lips, they were so pretty and plump as they wrapped around his long digits, so long that when you pushed forward to suck them clean they hit the back of your throat but you were unfazed.

Noah was captivated by the fact that he had two fingers in your mouth and two in your soaking pussy and both holes were beckoning him in like a siren’s song.

“Do I taste good, baby?,” his voice low and his eyes dark

“Mhm,” you hum, not wanting to take his fingers out of your mouth just yet, there’s just something about tasting him like this that had you weak in his grasp.

“You gonna cum for me?,” he bends his neck for his lips to brush against your cheek, both hands working you out and you’re almost there when he pulls his fingers away to bring more whipped cream to your mouth.

He’s hitting the back of your throat again and you spread your legs wider for him to get deeper. He’s hitting every sweet spot and at this point, you’re in such a daze that you don’t care that your saliva is dripping from around his fingers, dripping down to your bare chest. You’re moaning like a cat in heat, legs trembling, breathing heavily through your nose, you were right there, so close.

You were about to whine after he took his fingers away from your needy mouth once more. But much to your approval, he’s bringing them back, but only to spread more pomegranate juice over your pouting lips.

The fingers that were coaxing you to orgasm were going hard, drawing you closer and closer to the edge and you were finally pushed off when he’s kissing the juice off your lips.

“Mmmm!,” your body is twitching as you ride out your high, face scrunching as your orgasm washes over you. You become weak and pull away from him and fall back onto the pillows he had set beneath you.

He gives you a few beats to catch your breath, taking this time to lick his fingers clean, savoring the taste of you.

“We’re not done,” he sang, amusement dressing his tone. He grabs a grocery bag and begins digging in it to find something, “I know shower sex can be uncomfortable so I did some research and found some lube to help us out. I asked the lady at the shop and she recommended this,”

Noah was right. Shower sex wasn’t always the most comfortable, strictly because the water washes away your arousal, causing discomfort and friction that was unbearable. So you grab the bottle of lube from his hand and read over the label- interested in what the product has to offer.

“Okay,” you nod, smile growing, “Yeah let’s try it,”

He’s eager, eyes shining in exhilaration, pulling himself up off the ground and helping you up.

“There’s one more surprise,” he calls over his shoulder as he walks you two into the bathroom.

“You’re just full of those tonight, aren’t you?,” happy that you’d actually be getting in the shower, the remnants of the juice starting to get sticky.

He doesn’t reply, only opens the shower door, allowing your eyes to scan the space to see what he had set up. At first you frown because you don’t see anything out of the ordinary.

Then you see it.

A fresh, shiny detachable shower head that seems to sport many different settings.

“Oh dear,” your eyes widened. You know what you were in for. There was only one time that you orgasmed from water and it was when Noah held you with your back to his chest, pinning your legs so they stayed open all while the bath faucet beat down on your clit, making you cry out for him from the intensity. Now there’s a new variable in the equation and you just know he wasn’t gonna play nice.

He could only chuckle at you, shaking his head when starting the water and stripping himself so you both stood there bare.

“Hop in, baby,” he tapped your butt after helping you tie your hair up.

The first half of the shower consisted of Noah genuinely helping you clean up, scrubbing your back, massaging your neck, bending down on his knees to wash your calves and feet. The intimacy of the soft actions had you yearning for him once more, just wanting him to press you against the cool glass door and take you how he wants.

Then you feel his lips on your legs, making their way up until he’s at your neck, his hands on your hips, grinding against your pelvis and without him asking, you lower yourself onto your knees. His cock stands out from his body, his back to the shower head and when you look up, he looks like a sexy villain. Steam flowing past his features, his dark wet hair framing his face, water beading on his tattoos, he just looked too good to not slurp up.

Thus, with no hands, you guide him into your mouth and you hear his sigh, taking delight in the way your cheeks hollow as you suck him in.

“Fuck, Sugar. You’re so good to me,” he presses a hand against the cool tile to brace himself

“You take me so well. So proud of you, baby,” he bucks his hips forward just a bit, the sensation of his tip hitting the back of your throat was overloading his mind. He was always so sensitive and responsive to you. Knowing this fact always gives you butterflies.

You place your hands on his thighs, just so you could feel his skin while you please him. The muscles under his hot skin were tense so you took this time to massage them, a nonverbal way to tell him that he’s okay and that he needs to relax. That thought of relaxing was pointless though, considering you picked up your pace which had him groaning loudly into the hazy space.

“Just like that, baby. Just like that, fuck you’re such a good girl for me,” his other hand comes to the back of your head to bring you forth, letting Noah follow his indulgence in setting the pace he desires. You love how empowered he became when you were on your knees for him. You loved sucking his soul out, you adored observing the way his mouth hangs open, loved when his lashes flutter and you always find it cute when his cheeks burn strawberry red. You were doing that to him. You were blessed with this view.

Before he got too carried away, Noah pulled your head away, creating some distance between your mouth and his throbbing length to bend down and kiss you with an urgency that said ‘I’m ready to rearrange your guts’

He stands you up along with him and lifts you up to set you on the built in ledge of the shower.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered, taking in your form, he just had to stand there and drink you in, “So lucky to call you mine,” he steps in between your legs just letting his hands roam until he goes for the lube.

You brush his hair back out of his face so you can see all of him, such a candid scene in the moment as he prepares to make your soul his once more and you’d give it to him over and over again for as long as you live.

The lube wasn’t cold as it spent time warming up in the shower with you but the slickness of it did take you by surprise, mixing with your own arousal to make this moment sustainable and pleasant.

“Just gimme one more on my fingers,” he begged, Noah adored feeling you cum on his cock but with his fingers it was distinct. Feeling your walls pulse around the tattooed appendages was different because with each thrust of his fingers he felt like he was the moon and you were the tide, like he was literally pulling each orgasm out of you, plus, seeing how brain dead you go for his fingers was always a sight for sore eyes.

“Uh huh,” you nodded, soft eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth. With how he’s thrusting alongside the ease of the lube, you’d be cumming in no time. You brace your hands against the steamed shower door and the white tile wall all while you begin rolling your hips to meet his thrusts.

“Such a good girl for me,” his free hand coming to cup your cheek, “You like making me proud, don’t you?,”

“Y-yes, yes!,” you stare into his eyes, just wanting to give in a glimpse into the world that he put you in, everything he did to you felt overwhelming and he hasn’t even dicked you down yet.

He uses his thumb to circle your clit, adding a pressure so delicious that your ears begin ringing. He’s got that taunting smile on his face when he speeds his fingers up to the point your back is arching.

“Please!,” your wail bounces off the tile and you’re going hazy eyed. Fuck, does this man know how to make you melt.

“Please what, Sugar?,” he knows what you want, he also knows that words are so hard to put together when you’re like this, but he makes you say it every time, no matter how long it takes, he won’t give you what you want until you say it.

“C-cuu-,” you’re fighting for your breath as you try to form your plea

“C-c-cu-,” he chuckles, he finds joy in ridiculing you and your cheeks start to burn at the shame of knowing it’s what brings you closer and closer.

“Cum! P-please can I.. can I please cum!,” he always makes your first one easy, but after that he wants to hear you cry for it, he wants you a mess in his hands as you bear your soul to him on what you need.

“Give it to me,” his mouth wraps around one of your nipples, your hand quickly flying to the back of his head to hold him there, reveling in the sensations of his teeth nibbling on your sensitive bud, his fingers deep inside and his thumb circling your clit and you’re unraveling.

“Oooh, fuck,” gasping for air while the tremors take over your body, “Yes, yes, yesss!!,”

Your pussy tightens around his fingers as you cum for him once again. He keeps his head against your chest and you feel the vibrations of his laughter reverberating off your skin as the sound makes its way to your ears.

“Don’t laugh at me!,” slapping his shoulder as he pulls away and he can’t help but kiss your pouting lip.

“I just love how you let go and give your body to me,” he shrugs, kissing all over your face, rejoicing in the squeals you made trying to fight him off.

“You okay for one more?,” Noah steps away to reach behind him for the shower head, setting it beside you two as takes lube and begins stroking himself.

“I dunno, you tell me,” you wrap your legs around his waist, using your heels to pull him in and you sigh happily when you feel his tip brush against your entrance, “I’m always ready to give you more,”

Neither of you say a word when you weave your hand between the two of you, taking Noah’s slick cock in your hands, rubbing the tip against your clit and down to your hole, both of you exhale in tandem.

You guide him inside of you and he gives a low laugh at the way your eyes roll at the feeling of him filling you up.

Noah kept a hand on your hip and the other by your head, pressed flat onto the wall as he began rolling his hips. His jaw drops when your walls wrap and pulse around him at every angle. He’d never get tired of how good you feel because each time he found something new to love. Like this time, he notices that somehow, the pulsing inside of you had matched his heart beat and it had his stomach fluttering.

“Noah,” you beg, “Faster, harder, please,” You didn’t want it slow and sensual anymore, you wanted it hard and steamy, the kind that had you clawing at the walls and your voice cracking.

Noah climbs on the ledge with you, on his knees while your legs are spread open around him. The water on your skin splashes lightly while his hips smack against your ass. You were thankful you two had decided to add this ledge when upgrading your bathroom because with the pace he’s going at, you two would have fallen already. But he’s grounding you in place and vice versa.

“Can’t wait to fill you up,” he whimpers, “Can’t wait to watch you fall apart on my cock,”

He was such a masterpiece, like he was something pulled out of someone’s imagination come to life.

“Baby,” you huff, already feeling yourself ready to cum again. He knew what you were asking for, so he took the shower head and changed the setting to the steady jet and goosebumps arose on your skin.

“Just be a good girl and take it,” he leans back to watch you when he places the strong stream on your clit and you’re swiftly trying to pull away from him but he’s not having it

“What do we do when it’s too much?,”

“We… w-we breathe,” you grunt, hands slapping on the wet tile beneath you.

“So breathe, Sugar,” he instructs, continuing his torture on your clit and setting his pace back to what it was, “You know you can be as loud as you want, I don’t care, just don’t run from me,”

He was right, he always drank in your sounds like they were the fountain of youth, he just wanted to give you the pleasure you deserve.

“Noaaaaaaah!!,” a deep exhale escapes your chest, the water pressure was perfect, so good, inebriating even, but the way it was beating down on your sensitive bundle had you ready to shatter like beautiful stained glass.

“I know,” Noah shuddered, the angle he had the jet stream at was beating down on his length just below his tip each time he withdrew from you, “Fuck, baby, I fucking know,”

You were both vocal messes, he used the fingers of his free hand to dig into your thigh and you used your nails to dig into his.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you cry out, you were drowning in pleasure and soon it would overtake you like a strong wave.

“Please,” he groans, “God dammit, yes, cum for me,” Noah leans forward to press his forehead against yours, his signature move to let you know he was close, he loves being as close to you as possible when you both let go.

“Keep those pretty eyes open, keep looking at me, Sugar. You can do that for me c-can’t you?,”

“I dunnooooo,” your breath hitches along with your body and you know that’s not the answer he wants when his hand comes to grip the back of your head, pulling you in to kiss you so hard you think your lips will bruise, but it’s okay, it feels good. He’s nipping at your lips, teeth are clashing with need and tongues dancing. You felt like you were in your own personal porno but with real passion, real feelings, real pleasure. The steam from the shower was getting thicker, the temperature of the water felt so good and it wasn’t washing away the lube so the friction was immaculate.

“That’s not good enough,” He growls, “You know that’s not an answer your King wants to hear,”

His pace was earth shattering, it was chipping away at your composure and you were about to fall apart.

“So let’s try again-,”

“Yes!!!,” you yell, “Yes! Yes! Fuck… I… I can do it, please!,” your hands are framing his face, holding him close to you as you can feel the heat building up, “Noah, please say yes, I need to cum please, please can I cum, I’m always so g-good for you please!,”

Hearing you grovel had his hips faltering and he was about to crumble right along with you.

“Please,” you squeak, tears in your eyes, toes curling so hard you know they’ll be cramping later.

“Show me what a good girl you are,” he demands, holding the shower head at an angle that sets all of your nerves into overdrive.

“Noah, fuuuuuck!!,” eyes wide, fighting against the urge to close them, his name and profanities flowing out of your mouth as you cum around his cock, just like he likes. He kept the jet on your clit until he was done and it had you crying out in overstimulation.

“That’s my girl,” his mouth hung open against yours as he shattered to pieces, “So… f-fucking good,”

You felt him throbbing inside along with you as he spilled all that he had to offer. Both of you muttering I love you and words of assurance to calm the other back down. When you both seemed to catch your breath, you shared an intimate kiss, slow and lazy but the passion was there, no words were needed.

Washing up once more and getting yourselves out of the shower. You help Noah clean up the mess in the room and you scold him for letting the candles burn out of eye sight.

“We were caught in the moment,” is all he says, pulling you into bed with him, spooning you while he runs his hands over your body to help ease any tension in your muscles.

“You take such good care of me,” you mumble, yawning as the exhaustion is finally setting in.

“You do the same for me,” he assures, planting a kiss on your bare shoulder, pulling you in even tighter so he could feel every inch of you possible.

“Now rest up, I’ve got another surprise for you tomorrow,”

HI!! as always please make sure to comment and reblog as it helps us writers out big time!!

i thank you all for your love and support and can’t wait to hear what you all think !!

tags: @lma1986 @widowsofchaos @whatitsdecending

#noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian one shot #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian imagine #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens imagine #bad omens one shot #bad omens fic #bad omens smut

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goddessofvalyria · 3 months ago

Text

THE OTHER WOMAN | Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: She is the daughter of a prominent politician, Aemond is her father's political partner. They have been lovers for a few months, but feelings can become dangerous…

After I read @peachysunrize amazing and well written fic, this mine was inspired by hers, so I'm gonna giver her all the credit for the inspo 🖤

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, kissing, sexual themes, oral (f receiving), fingering, SMUT, sexual tension, sex, cheating, spanking, age gap (Aemond is in his early 30s, married to Floris Baratheon and he's a girl dad, she his lover, is in her early 20s). Aemond calls her princess, good girl and babygirl. She calls him daddy. This is a modern Aemond in modern AU, he doesn’t have his disability (his eye).

English is not my first language, be kind and enjoy the fic <3

This is my Masterlist

Words: 4440

"The other woman will always cry herself to sleep. The other woman will never have his love to keep. And as the years go by, the other woman will spend her life alone."

― The other woman, Lana Del Rey.

The bathroom of the luxury restaurant is dimly lit, the soft glow of candles casting flickering shadows on the walls. Outside, the sounds of celebration filter through the heavy wooden door—their families, friends, and political allies gathered for a victory dinner after the elections. Her's father, Aemond’s wife, Floris, his little daughter Alysanne, and all their partners are seated at a grand table, laughing and toasting to their success.

Inside, however, there is no laughter—only the heated, breathless silence that hangs between Aemond and his little secret: her, the daughter of his political partner.

She left the room with the excuse of going to the bathroom, he left after five minutes to go and smoke a cigarette before dessert.

She presses herself against the cool marble counter, her breath quickening as Aemond steps closer, his eyes dark with desire. He places a hand on her waist, pulling her to him, their bodies flush together.

“We shouldn’t be doing this” she whispers, though her hands reach up to clutch his shoulders, her fingers curling into the fabric of his suit.

“I know” Aemond murmurs, his voice low and thick with urgency. “But I can’t stay away from you.” He smells her French perfume that he gave to her for her birthday.

Their lips crash together in a searing kiss, all passion and fire. His hands roam her back, pulling her closer, as if he’s afraid she might slip away. She tastes the wine on his lips, feels the desperation in his touch, and it ignites something deep within her—a hunger, a need she cannot deny.

They break apart for a moment, both gasping for breath. “Aemond” she breathes, her voice filled with a mix of fear and longing. “They’re right outside…”

“Let them be” he replies fiercely, capturing her lips again. His kiss is demanding, almost punishing, as if he’s trying to pour all the frustration and desire he feels into this one stolen moment.

Her heart races, a mix of adrenaline and desire coursing through her veins. She knows the danger of this, knows the consequences if they’re caught. But in this moment, with Aemond’s hands on her body and his lips on hers, she doesn’t care. She wants him—needs him—more than she’s ever needed anything.

Aemond’s hands slide up her thighs, pulling her closer, his mouth moving to her neck, where he plants a trail of burning kisses. She tilts her head back, giving him more access, a soft moan escaping her lips. She knows she should stop this, push him away, but every nerve in her body is screaming for more, for him.

“Gods, princess” Aemond groans against her skin, his breath hot and ragged. “You drive me mad.”

She smiles, a wicked glint in her eyes. “Good” she whispers, her lips brushing against his ear. “I want you to be mad. I want you to lose control.”

He pulls back, his eyes blazing with a mixture of lust and frustration. “You’re playing a dangerous game” he warns, his voice low and husky.

“I know” she replies, her hand sliding down to the front of his trousers, feeling the heat of his arousal. “But isn’t that what makes it exciting?”

Aemond’s eyes darken, and with a low growl, he crushes his lips to hers once more. Their tongues dance in a heated battle for dominance, the taste of him intoxicating. She can feel the tension in his body, the barely restrained desire, and it fuels her own fire.

The sound of laughter from outside the door pulls them back to reality, and they break apart, both panting heavily. Aemond rests his forehead against hers, his hands still gripping her hips. “We need to go back” he says, though his voice is thick with reluctance.

She nods, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. “Yes” she agrees, though every fiber of her being is screaming for more. She smooths her dress, trying to steady her racing heart. “We’ll talk later.”

Aemond’s eyes bore into hers, filled with a mixture of longing and regret. “Yes” he says quietly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Later in your hotel room.”

With one last, lingering look, he turns and opens the door, stepping back into the light and noise of the restaurant, leaving her alone in the dimly lit bathroom, her heart still pounding with the heat of their forbidden kiss.

When Aemond and she return to the table, the atmosphere is light, filled with laughter and clinking glasses. Aemond slips into his seat and immediately lifts his daughter onto his lap. Alysanne, the little girl giggles, nestling into her father's arms, her small hands playing with the buttons on his jacket. She takes her place beside her father, trying to ignore the way her skin still burns from Aemond's touch.

She picks up her dessert fork, eyeing the delicate chocolate mousse in front of her, but her appetite has vanished. Her father, noticing her hesitation, leans in with a concerned look. "Dear, what's wrong?" he asks softly. "You’ve barely touched your food."

She forces a small smile, setting the fork down. "I’m fine, dad" she replies, her voice steady but lacking its usual vibrance. "I just don’t feel very well. I think I need to get back to my hotel room."

Aemond glances over at her, his eyes sharp with concern and something else—something deeper that he quickly masks with a casual smile. His daughter, however, is less subtle. Alysanne points directly at her, the little girl eyes wide and filled with childish wonder. "She looks like a fairy tale princess!" she exclaims, her voice bright with excitement. "Look at her dress—it sparkles! And her hair… it’s like the ladies in my storybooks."

The adults at the table laugh softly, charmed by the girl's innocence. She manages a genuine smile, touched by the child's sincerity, even as her heart twists with conflicting emotions. Aemond's gaze remains fixed on her, unreadable, but his grip on his daughter tightens slightly.

As the dinner draws to a close, the conversations turn to politics and future strategies. Aemond leans over to her, his voice low enough for only her to hear. "Would you mind taking Alysanne out to the park for a while?" he asks. "We’re going to discuss a few more things here."

She hesitates, but the hopeful look in the little girl's eyes makes her nod. "Of course" she agrees, standing up and offering her hand to the girl. "Come on, princess" she says with a gentle smile. "Let’s go on an adventure."

Outside in the park, the night air is cool and refreshing. Alysanne chatters away, her small hand clutching's her tightly. She twirls around, mimicking a princess with every step, her eyes never leaving her. "You really are like a princess" she says dreamily. "Are you sure you’re not from a fairy tale?"

She laughs softly, her heart aching at the purity of the child’s admiration. "I’m sure" she says gently. "But I’m glad you think so."

From inside the restaurant, Aemond watches them through the large windows, a soft smile playing on his lips as he sees his daughter so happy. But his gaze lingers on her—her elegance, her grace, the way she moves like she’s gliding on air. He feels a pang of something—regret, perhaps, or longing.

Inside, the photographers gather for the official photos, capturing the newly victorious politicians and their families. She turns slightly, catching sight of Aemond and Floris through the window. They’re standing close, their heads bowed together as they talk. Then, unexpectedly, Floris leans in, and Aemond kisses her. It's a tender, lingering kiss, one meant for the cameras and the public eye. But to her, it feels like a dagger to the heart.

She quickly turns away, blinking back the sting of tears. Alysanne notices the change in her demeanor and stops her twirling. "Are you okay, princess?" she asks, her small face full of concern.

She forces another smile, nodding. "I’m fine, sweetie" she says softly. "Let’s keep walking a little longer."

When the dinner finally ends, they all head back to the hotel. The mood is still celebratory, but she feels distant, like she’s moving through a dream. As they reach their rooms, she turns to her father and the rest of the group. "I think I’ll head in for the night," she says quietly. "I’m still not feeling very well."

Her father looks at her with concern, but he nods. "Of course, dear. Get some rest. We’ll see you in the morning."

Aemond’s eyes meet hers for a brief, intense moment, but she quickly looks away, slipping into her room without another word. Once inside, she leans against the door, closing her eyes as a single tear escapes down her cheek. She takes a deep breath, pushing the feelings down, burying them where no one—not even Aemond—can see.

Tonight, she decides, she will let herself feel the pain. But tomorrow, she will be the politician’s daughter again—strong, composed, and ready to face whatever comes next.

She hate being the other woman.

The other woman will always cry herself to sleep. The other woman will never have his love to keep. And as the years go by, the other woman will spend her life alone.

Aemond paces the balcony of his hotel room, the cool night air doing little to calm the storm brewing inside him. Behind him, Floris leans against the railing, her expression set in a mask of irritation and defiance. Inside, their daughter sleeps soundly in the middle of their bed, oblivious to the tension simmering between her parents just outside.

“You have to stop behaving like this, Aemond” Floris snaps, her voice low but sharp enough to cut through the night. “People are starting to notice. You’re making a spectacle of yourself.”

Aemond stops mid-pace, turning to face her, his violet eyes blazing with anger. “Behaving like what, Floris?” he spits, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Like a man trapped in a marriage that’s nothing more than a political arrangement?”

Floris rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “We both knew what this marriage was, Aemond. You can’t act like you’re some wounded victim now.”

Aemond steps closer, his face inches from hers, his voice a low growl. “Our marriage is a pure political agreement because the Baratheons side with the Targaryens. Fucking you drunk and having a daughter is the only good thing you’ve done.”

Floris’s eyes widen in shock, then narrow in fury. “How dare you...” she hisses, her voice trembling with rage. “Do you think you’re so much better? You’re nothing but a cold, arrogant bastard who hides behind his fucking name.”

Aemond’s jaw clenches, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “Watch your tongue, Floris” he warns, his voice dangerously low. “You forget yourself.”

But Floris isn’t done. Her face flushes with anger, and she leans in, her words laced with venom. “You want the truth, Aemond? I’ve been cheating on you since day one. From the moment we said our vows, I was already looking elsewhere. But your precious daughter? She is yours, even if you don’t deserve her.”

Aemond feels a cold, sinking sensation in his chest, his mind racing with her words. "Don't talk about my daughter. I'm always there for her, I care about her, I take and pick her to school, I take her to the doctor when she is sick, I bought her little gift and you?! You leave her with the baby sitter and go out with your fucking friends! "

For a moment, he’s speechless, stunned into silence by her confession. Then the anger flares up again, hotter and more consuming than before.

He steps back, his expression hardening into a mask of controlled fury. “You disgust me” he says quietly, his voice like ice. “I can’t even stand to look at you.”

Floris smirks, unbothered by his words. “Then don’t” she snaps. “Leave. Go run to your little whore if that’s what makes you feel better.”

Aemond’s eyes darken, but he doesn’t reply. Instead, he turns on his heel and storms back into the room. He spares a glance at his sleeping daughter, his heart softening momentarily. Alysanne is the only reason he’s stayed this long, endured this sham of a marriage. But even that isn’t enough anymore.

Without another word, he heads out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him. His steps are quick and purposeful as he crosses the hallway, his mind racing. He reaches her's door and pauses for just a moment, his breath coming in short, angry bursts. Then he raises his hand and knocks, the sound echoing in the quiet corridor.

Inside, his lover sits on the edge of her bed, her heart still heavy from the events of the evening. She had been trying to distract herself, but her mind keeps drifting back to Aemond, to the kiss he shared with Floris, to the way he looked at her, torn between duty and desire.

The knock at the door startles her, and she stands, her pulse quickening. She knows it’s him—somehow, she just knows. She hesitates for a moment, then crosses the room and opens the door.

Aemond stands there, his expression a mixture of anger and desperation. “Princess” he says, his voice rough, almost broken. “I need to talk to you, I need you.”

She looks at him, her heart pounding in her chest. She can see the turmoil in his eyes, the pain he’s trying so hard to hide. She steps aside, opening the door wider to let him in. “Come in” she says softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

He steps inside, and she closes the door behind him, turning to face him. For a moment, they just stand there, staring at each other, the silence between them thick and heavy with unspoken words. Then Aemond moves forward, closing the distance between them in two quick strides.

Before she can say anything, he pulls her into his arms, his lips crashing down onto hers with a fierce, desperate hunger. She gasps against his mouth, but then she’s kissing him back, all her frustration, anger, and longing pouring out in that one heated moment.

His hands move to her waist, pulling her closer, and she melts against him, her fingers tangling in his hair. She knows this is dangerous, knows this could change everything, but right now, in this moment, she doesn’t care. She just wants him—needs him—as much as he needs her.

“Aemond” she whispers against his lips, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and desire.

He pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against hers. “I can’t do this anymore” he murmurs, his breath warm against her skin. “I can’t pretend. I can’t keep up the charade. I need you.”

She looks up at him, her eyes searching his. “Then don’t pretend” she says softly. “Don’t hide.”

He closes his eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “I don’t know what to do...” he admits, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I don’t know how to make this right... I'm lost.”

Aemond’s breath is ragged against her lips, his grip on her waist firm and desperate. For a moment, they stay there, locked in a kiss that feels like both a promise and a plea. But then she pulls back, her eyes searching his, her expression full of conflicting emotions.

“Aemond, we can’t keep doing this” she says, her voice trembling with a mix of frustration and hurt. “What are we? What do you even want from me?”

He takes a step back, running a hand through his hair, clearly torn. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I want—what I need—except you” he replies, his tone raw, almost desperate. “I can’t stand seeing you with anyone else. I can't stand this anymore."

She shakes her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “And what about your wife? What about Floris? You kissed her tonight, right in front of everyone. Are you going to pretend that didn’t happen?”

Aemond’s face darkens, his frustration boiling over. “That was for the cameras” he snaps. “For appearances, for politics. It meant nothing.”

“It didn’t look like nothing” she retorts, her voice rising. “It looked like you were still playing the dutiful husband.”

Aemond’s eyes flash with anger. “You think I want this? You think I want to be stuck in this sham of a marriage?”

“Then leave her!” she exclaims, her frustration spilling over. “If you hate it so much, if it’s such a burden, then why don’t you just leave?”

“It’s not that simple” Aemond snaps, his voice taut with tension. “You don’t understand—”

“Then explain it to me!” she interrupts, her eyes flashing with hurt. “Make me understand, Aemond. Because right now, all I see is a man who can’t make up his mind, who’s too afraid to choose.”

Aemond’s jaw clenches, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and frustration. “You want to know the truth?” he says harshly. “Fine. Floris has been cheating on me since the day we got married. Our whole marriage is a lie. She doesn’t love me and I sure as hell don’t love her.”

She stares at him, stunned by his admission. She opens her mouth to say something, but no words come out. The weight of his confession hangs heavy in the air between them.

“She’s been with someone else this whole time” Aemond continues, his voice raw with pain. “I’ve been a fool, playing the part of a faithful husband while she’s been screwing someone else behind my back.”

Her heart twists in her chest. She takes a step forward, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. “Aemond…”

But he pulls away, his expression a mixture of hurt and anger. “And you” he adds, his voice breaking. “You think I’m some kind of monster, torn between two women. But it’s not like that. It’s never been like that. You're not the other woman, you're the only who I love.”

Her eyes well up with tears, her own anger flaring in response. “Then what is it, Aemond? Tell me! Because I can’t keep doing this, pretending like I don’t feel anything when I see you with her, when I know you’re still tied to her.”

Aemond’s gaze locks with hers, intense and unyielding. “It’s you” he says fiercely. “It’s always been you. I’m tired of hiding, of pretending. I want you. Only you.”

Before she can respond, he closes the distance between them, his lips crashing onto hers with a force that takes her breath away. It’s a kiss full of anger, frustration, and pent-up desire, as if he’s pouring all his emotions into this one moment.

She responds with equal fervor, her hands clutching at his shirt, pulling him closer. She feels the heat of his body against hers, the raw need that radiates off him in waves. Their kiss deepens, turning from angry to desperate, their tongues clashing, teeth scraping, both of them too consumed by their emotions to care about anything else.

Aemond’s hands move to her back, pulling her flush against him, his grip possessive, almost bruising. “Princess” he groans against her lips, his voice thick with need. “I need you. Now.”

She doesn’t answer, but her body does, pressing against him, her nails digging into his back as she pulls him toward the bed. He lifts her effortlessly, carrying her the few steps to the bed and dropping her onto the mattress, his body following hers down.

Their clothes are a blur, a flurry of buttons and zippers, each piece discarded carelessly onto the floor as they tear at each other’s garments with frantic hands. He is naked with only is boxers on, she's wearing black lace panties and no bra.

"Gods, the woman she is." Aemond thinks.

The room fills with the sounds of their heavy breathing, the rustle of sheets, the creaking of the bed under their combined weight.

Aemond hovers over her, his eyes dark and intense, his breath hot against her skin. “This isn’t just sex” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “This is everything I’ve wanted, everything I’ve needed.”

She nods, her own breath ragged, her hands roaming over his body, feeling the muscles tense and flex beneath her touch. “Then show me” she whispers, her voice a mix of challenge and invitation. “Show me what I mean to you.”

With a growl, he captures her lips again, his body pressing into hers, skin against skin, heat against heat.

Every touch is electric, every kiss searing, their bodies speaking the words their mouths can’t. It’s a release of all the pent-up emotions, all the pain and longing they’ve both been harboring for months.

As they are together, the world outside fades away. There’s no Floris, no politics, no lies or betrayals—just the two of them, lost in each other, finding solace in their shared passion.

Aemond kneels on the floor, opens her legs still cover with her lace panties and looks at her wet cunt so wet and hot at the same time. "You have soaked these panties" he smirks and after she lifts her lips, he put them down. "Gods, I need this pretty cunt so fucking much"

He starts to lick her between her spread legs and go so much deeper with his tongue, moans of pure pleasure escaped her lips at the feel of his mouth on her, she grabs one boobs, moaning pleasure and stars to torment her nipple. "Aem- Aemond..."

He close his eye, brush his fingers over her sensitive spot and she tremble, her body shaking. "You like this type of sex: dirty and rough, but also passionate... Gods, princess you are meant to be mine"

She moans at the sensation of his tongue and two fingers inside her, torture and give her that damn prohibited pleasure. "Gods, Daddy" she arches her back, Aemond smirks.

She called him daddy.

She bites her lower lip, one hand into Aemond's hair. "Please, take me, please" she arches her back, feels Aemond's tongue fucking her, his arms around her legs.

"Daddy please" she beg him, Aemond stands up. "You've been a very bad, bad girl my dear" he looks at her: naked, aroused and she begs for him.

Aemond kneels on the bed and takes her hips with his hands and he turns her on the bed, her naked ass exposed to him. "I need to punish you, babygirl"

She looks at him. "How do you want to punish me, daddy?" she teases him. "You'll see, princess"

"Breathe slowly" Aemond whispers caressing her ass. "Hmm" she moans. "This is not a punishment" she feels his hand and they are so fucking good. He opens her legs again, finding her womanhood already wet and ready to take him. He smirks, push down his boxers and then he push his manhood between her thighs, gets wet into her pussy, he enters only the tip and then slowly push himself outside.

"Fuck you, Aemond" she growls and with one hand, he spank her ass. "What did you say princess?" he looks at her. "Fuck you" she repeats. "I don't wanna be the other woman, I wanna the only woman that warm your bed" she admits.

"Be a good girl for your daddy" he whispers and then he slaps her ass again and again, punishing her. "You're jealous, aren't you babygirl?"

"Yes" she whispers. "I'm fucking-" she doesn't finish the phrase that another slap hits her ass. "Good girl, good girl who likes to be spanked" he teases her. "I'm jealous too" he admits. "All these boys at your University... hmm babygirl, did you fuck them?" he asks. "No, daddy I only fuck you when you want. I'm yours."

"A good girl need her rewards" he smile devilish pushing himself his coock her wet womanhood. Aemond breaths in her French perfume, kisses her and remained still for a few moments. "I'll take you raw, no condom" slowly he begin to thrust, the pace is slow, but soon it increase, she moans digging her red nails into the sheets.

"Aemond, Aemond, Aemond" she moans feeling him deeper and deeper. He fucks her rough but with passion, making her begging for more.

"I know you are a good girl for your daddy" Aemond whisper she nods lost in pleasure feeling her legs tremble, Aemond push his cock between her deep hole, caressing her wet folds with one hands and spanking her ass with other.

"I need to...I need to cum" she moans taking all the pleasure. "You need to cum, hm, babygirl?" he says, caressing her ass and pushing his cock to the limit.

"Cum for me babygirl" he smirks. "Cum on my cock, cum and let yourself feel the pleasure" she cry, Aemond bit his lower lip. "You will fill up with all my seed" he smirks. "I'm on the pill" she whispers, but he doesn't hear her words.

"Do you want to be mine? Then be mine, babygirl" he let himself cum into her thight pussy.

She crawls into her arms, Aemond wraps her and kiss her so deeply with his tongue. "My good girl alway ready for his daddy."

For a moment, they lie there, tangled in each other, their breathing heavy, their hearts pounding in unison. Aemond rests his forehead against hers, his hand gently caressing her cheek, his expression softer now, vulnerable.

“Princess” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “I’m not letting you go. Not ever.”

She closes her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek, but she nods, her heart too full to speak. They stay like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, knowing that whatever happens next, they’ll face it together.

"Don't tell me promises that you can't keep" she kisses his chest. "I love you Aemond, but I'll be always the other woman."

Aemond stays in silence, thinking how what he can do: surely divorcing from Floris and let her admitting his cheat in front of her father and after, taking his princess.

"If...I divorce, you will be my girl?" he asks. "I'm not goin to ruin your family" she answers. "Let me adjust some things, trust me" he caresses her long thick hair.

She fall asleep in his arms, Aemond watch out of the window and hope that one day they will be free to love each other.

"I truly love you" he whispers and a tear drops from his violet eye.

He loves her so much and soon she will be not the other woman, but his only and only love.

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houseofgoodmercantile · 20 days ago

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lookismfanfics · 1 year ago

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𝐁𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐.

Notes: If ya’ll want part 3 it’ll probably include Goo, Vin, Daniel, Jihan, and whoever else you guys want. Just a heads up!

Warnings: Fluff, nudity (not explicit), wholesomeness, mild cursing, mentions of violence

Eugene • Gun • Zack • Johan • Jake • Lineman • Jason • Hudson

𝐄𝐮𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞

🝮 The candles, assortments of expensive shampoos, classic piano melodies playing from the speakers, and altogether romantic atmosphere weren’t out of the normal for Eugene.

🝮 Shower time was usually like this. He was busy, and needed to unwind… but in a timely manner.

🝮 The only thing different about the bathroom today was you.

🝮 You. Crouched by the tub, pouring globs of bubble-bath solution carelessly into the foamy water. Wrapped in his a luxurious robe.

🝮 Eugene takes off his quickly-steaming glasses, wiping them gingerly against his shirt.

🝮 “What’s all this about, (Y/N)?” He asks. No doubt he’s forming an answer of his own right now. You smile coyly.

🝮 He likes that smile on you. Your casual wit and intellect never fails to charm his cooly-intelligent and egotistical self.

🝮 “It’s your shower time. Says so on the calendar,” you state. “I told you sharing our Cloud wasn’t an invitation for you to spy on my personal schedule,” he counters.

🝮 He ends up cracking a smile anyway. The type of smile he reserves specifically for your enjoyment.

🝮 “Whatever. Get in.” You gesture towards the tub, unfazed as Eugene stares at you cooly. “Sorry. You want privacy undressing or something?”

🝮 His sharp “yes” falls on deaf ears. You both end up stifling giggles and sharing looks as he piles his clothes on the floor.

🝮 The soap suds in the tub are an off-white color. Eugene hates dyed bath bombs.

🝮 After he submerges himself in the water and has a book in his hand, you take to kissing his knuckles and smoothing out his hair.

🝮 Neither of you converse very much. He smirks whenever your eyes meet, though.

🝮 It’s elegant and intimate. That’s norm for being in a relationship with Eugene.

𝐆𝐮𝐧

🝮 It started off with a workout.

🝮 Gun, the ridiculous bast*rd, trying his hardest to overwork you till your bones break. For the sake of getting stronger.

🝮 And now that that’s over, it’s your turn.

🝮 Exasperated and breathless as you push on his bare chest, trying to force him through the doorway of the bathroom

🝮 “Just— get— in— Gun!” You huff, slapping your hand roughly against the side of his torso.

🝮 He’s such a pig sometimes.

🝮 On his own he walks backwards and sits down in the bathtub. Soapy water engulfs his frame. His normal nonchalance is wasted on you. All he ever seems to do is smirk when you’re around.

🝮 You mumble “jerk” and in response he tells you to “eat ass”

🝮 You hold his head underwater for that-

🝮 He chooses the soap. A musky, expensive brand. Something that smells like him.

🝮 While Gun scrolls boredly through his classical playlist you take off your clothes.

🝮 Hop right in beside him, let him spread his legs and lean against his back. He doesn’t mind. Actually, he prefers it that way.

🝮 “You did good today,” Gun remarks. He leans his head back against the wall. You hum in reply.

🝮 It’s not so much a bath as it is a warm soak.

🝮 Gun’s hands rub down your legs roughly. Even if he isn’t gentle, per say, it feels nice for your aching muscles.

🝮 “You weren’t so bad yourself,” you reply. He chuckles at that.

🝮 You’ll come out of that bath with Gun’s signature scent all over you. He doesn’t mind THAT at all.

𝐙𝐚𝐜𝐤

🝮 If athletic had a scent… then it would smell exactly like Zack Lee’s shampoo.

🝮 He digs his hands into the side of the bathtub and wills himself not to blush as you crouch beside him, pouring more bubble solution into the foggy water.

🝮 “Where’d you buy this anyway?” You ask, knowing Zack doesn’t like buying cheap brands. And it doesn’t smell bad, necessarily.

🝮 He swallows, eyes narrowing and a sheepish flush rising to his face. “I dunno. Do you not like it or something…?”

🝮 “No it’s fine. It smells like you.”

🝮 Zack’s hands are busted. His cracked knuckles are a clear indicator of the fight he had gotten himself into.

🝮 You grumble about it a little, but not too much. Just a simple, “I thought we talked about you getting into fights…” and then you dropped it.

🝮 You lathered your hands with shampoo, scrubbing deep into the roots of his hair.

🝮 You tenderly scrubbed across his body, knowing he was unable to with his mangled hands.

🝮 Sweet, rushed kisses followed. Zack is such a simp— almost completely unable to look you in the eye, let alone return your affection.

🝮 The signiture-athlete-soap was down the drain. Zack dried himself off.

🝮 “You weren’t planning on doing this again… were you?” He calls. When you don’t answer, his chest deflates.

🝮 “(Y/N)— ARUGH!”

🝮 The door slams

🝮 “Why are you naked?!”

🝮 “I’m getting in the shower too…!”

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐧

🝮 Puppy eyes. That’s what he gives you.

🝮 Where did he learn this sacred guilt-tripping art from? His dogs?

🝮 Either way, you shake your head.

🝮 “Look, you can use the bathroom to shower- or whatever. But I’m not helping you.”

🝮 Johan: 🥺

🝮 Five minutes later, you’re helping him.

🝮 He’s half naked, and had reprimanded you for staring. “It’s not that big of a deal,” or whatever crap he said.

🝮 You are currently checking the water temperature.

🝮 “Look, using my bathtub is pretty straightforward. Once you get it to the temp you like you can just plug in the drain cap. Okay?”

🝮 You demonstrate. Johan nods.

🝮 “Okay. Soap is there… and-yeah. Have fun Johan.”

🝮 You rise, dodging him and beelining for the door. You have other things, after all-

🝮 “Wait,” Johan mumbles.

🝮 You look over your shoulder, met head-on with those baby brown eyes of his. Johan blinks. His brows are furrowed slightly in contemplation. Or whatever is going through his pea-brain.

🝮 “Can you get in with me?”

🝮 🫠

🝮 (I can’t tell you what to do. Hop in or leave him hanging- 💅)

𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞

🝮 His shirt slips off a solid abdomin and exposes inked shoulders and chest. His tattooed arms flex as the shirt falls to the side.

🝮 This display is… seen by no one. Jake has no audience in the empty bathroom but himself.

🝮 He cranes his neck to catch sigh of some scrapes and bruises on his back. It not too difficult. Even through his peripherals the purple splotches are obvious.

🝮 With a sigh, Jake begins to unzip his pants and unclamp his belt—

🝮 THE DOOR CREAKS

🝮 A towel covers him in a second. (Since when has he been self-conscious??) The door opens completely to let you in.

🝮 You… with your arms full of bath and medical supplies.

🝮 You set down the things and face a nervously smiling Jake. The towel is snatched out of his grasp in a millisecond.

🝮 “Don’t bother hiding it Jake. I know you look like a wreck,” you snap.

🝮 Jake? Self-conscious? Nah. Afraid of your wrath? Maybe.

🝮 The water is turned on and soon the bathtub is filled. Eventually the soapy water cradles Jake’s large figure.

🝮 Your hands feel nice against his sore skin, he thinks. He stays still as you wash off his cuts and bruises… let’s you wet his hair and scrub soap into his scalp.

🝮 “I love you,” he smiles. Cheeky.

🝮 You sigh and press a kiss against his cheek. “I know.”

🝮 Bubbles eventually popped… the water was drained. Jake’s favorite part was being dried off anyway. He likes his hair being ruffled by you… the soft towel rubbing down his back and legs.

🝮 In the end he smells like strawberries. You can’t help but tease him about that.

🝮 Argument avoided successfully 👍

𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧

🝮 In all honesty you had never seen Lineman without a shirt on. You’d only… heard about it.

🝮 But anyway. Here you are. Pouring soap onto a washcloth and dabbing it on his temple.

🝮 The excessive amount of bath bombs were completely necessary. You didn’t need to be flashed.

🝮 Lineman sits as still as possible, not wanting soap to get into his eyes. He mumbles about how nice the water feels and how he’s grateful that you’re taking care of him.

🝮 “Why does it smell so peachy?” He asks suddenly, cupping some of the water in his hand.

🝮 You shrug. “It’s just the scent I guess.”

🝮 Bandaids have fallen off and are thrown in the trash. You apply neosporin to the cut over his eyebrow.

🝮 You’re about to pour some water into his hair but he dodges out of the way. Something about a hair routine. Admittedly it is one of his nicest features…

🝮 “Ya don’t have to do that, (Y/N). I’m good,” he tells you sheepishly. He says that a lot actually. He’s capable of turning on the water… cleaning his banged-up body… drying off…

🝮 You do all those things for him anyway. He just complies bashfully and lets it happen.

🝮 Afterwards you ask him to take his clothes off more often (as a joke.) He takes you completely seriously- 😳

𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧

🝮 It’s not that Jason can’t be romantic, but between the two of you, you’re typically the more… intimate one

🝮 This weekend was a bit different though. And without getting into explicit details, you’ve spend a fair share of romantic time together.

🝮 So now, to unwind, you’re grabbing your bath kit and treating the two of you to some self-care. (The bath bombs needed to be used. Lua gifted them to you two Christmas’ ago-)

🝮 You settle for a green colored… minty scented soap. With the pigmented water bubbling and steaming, you decided now was the time to hop in.

🝮 You sink into the tub 🛁

🝮 Jason comes in a few minutes later with some towels and a book for you.

🝮 “Don’t you wanna get in?” You ask. He splashes you with some water and gives some sort of embarrassed reply.

🝮 He uses a loofah to scrub your back. “Isn’t the water too hot?”

🝮 “Nope. Just you.”

🝮 *More aggressive splashing*

🝮 “You’re worse than Jake,” he mumbles, dropping the loofah and sitting against the wall. You just smile in return.

𝐇𝐮𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐧

🝮 “What kind of scents do you like?” You’d ask. He wouldn’t give you an answer.

🝮 “Hudson…! I’m for real!” You’d say. Still, nothing.

🝮 “Please just answer my question-” you grumbled. Nothing.

🝮 Hudson didn’t want you to spoil him (that’s… not exactly what you had in mind but-) and he definitely didn’t need you spending your money on HIS beauty products.

🝮 Ever since he joined the Allied…. Idiots (there’s not a nicer way to put it) he’s begun to realize that his own products and routines are pretty low-key.

🝮 He went over Jay’s penthouse once. To drop something off. The dude was basically butt naked, wearing just a skimpy robe. What was that all about? Apparently he was in the middle of some hour-long beauty ritual.

🝮 Then there’s Zack Lee. Don’t even get Zack STARTED on using hair gel… or washing your face… using an exfoliator…

🝮 Compared to them, Hudson just kinda… showered? The soap brand he used jumped from whatever was available. So when he told you he didn’t have a favorite scent, he was being completely honest.

🝮 So you took a guess. Picked out some honeysuckle bubble soap. Some matching scented shampoo. Now you dip your finger into the water to test if it’s okay.

🝮 Behind you Hudson reluctantly takes off his clothes. He takes better care of his sweater than his pants, which he just flops on the floor and toes out of the way.

🝮 You gesture for him to get in.

🝮 “I never asked you to do this…” he murmurs, slipping underneath the sudsy water.

🝮 You nod. “I know. I just felt like it.”

🝮 You kiss his knuckles and help wash his back. You also tease him about his wet, flat hair—

So sorry for the delay everyone! Going to hustle through requests!!

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loquaciousferret · 1 year ago

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Saints and Sinners

Summary: The yearly Halloween rendezvous with your long-term no-strings lover Joel Miller is set to be shaken up when he invites a third- Javi Peña- to your hotel room.

No-outbreak AU | Joel Miller and Javi Peña existing in the same universe AU

Pairings: Javier Peña x f!reader x Joel Miller

Word Count: 5.7k (whoops)

Warnings below the cut | 18+ Only

Content Warnings: MATURE 18+ Disrespect of religion including the Cross. No real physical description of reader other than female anatomy and she can be lifted by or sit on top of both males. Alcohol consumption, sex whilst under the influence, oral both m and f receiving, facesitting, facefucking, unprotected sex with a stranger, consensual voyeurism and exhibitionism, facial, spitting, degradation, pet names, anal play, MMF threesome, a suggestion of but not actual infidelity, discussion of age gap between the sexual partners.

A/N: Hey homies, I’ve come out of retirement for one day only for halloween (It’s also my birthday) this started off just something hot but accidentally turned fluffy and deep towards the end. Consider that my birthday gift to myself. I hope you enjoy!

You analyse your appearance in the mirror for what might be the hundredth time, straightening the garish crystal-covered cross that hangs on a delicate chain from your neck. The base of it just slightly tucks into the cleavage that is spilling from the top of the satin black mini dress. A few strands of hair peak out from the matching black covering on your head, framing your face perfectly. Sexy nun. What a great Halloween costume. Offensive? Probably. But hot? Definitely.

Joel had texted you a few hours previously with the room number for your usual luxury downtown hotel. 308. Surprise inside. The message had read. A man of few words was Joel Miller, but you didn’t mind. Your annual meeting didn’t need much introduction.

You checked the time on your phone and realised you were in a rush. Your scheduled Uber, the chariot that would deliver you to Joel, would be there in half an hour. You quickly grabbed your bottle of wine, still only half finished, and poured yourself another large glass. After all this time, the nervous butterflies that gathered in your stomach prior to seeing him should have faded, but on the contrary, they seem more powerful each passing year.

By the time you had finished off the bottle you were rushing to cover yourself with a long black coat and put your heels on to head out the door. The nerves had barely subsided and the alcohol only served to hinder your balance as you hurried to the car.

You arrived at the hotel, which you hadn’t visited since this time last year. It was a looming black structure that stood out against the rest of the buildings on the street. Once inside the lobby, it was like you were in another dimension altogether. It was dimly lit and strongly scented with candles and diffusers. It was soundproofed well, to the extent that you would never know you had just stepped off of a busy city street. It was familiar and yet mysterious every time you visited. It certainly wasn’t the sleazy motel you would imagine to typically be used for you and Joel’s purposes. You didn’t know how often other people typically visited hotels. They are usually a place of passing. So, after visiting on the same weekend every year for five years, you felt like perhaps you were a regular.

You spoke to the man at the desk who welcomed you with warm eyes and a kind smile. It was the kind of place where the staff always made you feel important. He handed you a wallet made of thick black card with the hotels gold logo embossed on the front.

“The keycard is just inside. Take the elevator to the third floor and you’ll find 8 on your right.” He says. “And I’m here all night, should you need anything at all.”

“Thank you.” You say, and proceed nervously to the elevator. The hand holding the wallet is actually shaking. Pull it together.

The elevator ride to the third floor is over quicker than you would have liked, and suddenly you are stepping out into a dim corridor. The same thick scent that fills the lobby also lingers here. Deep and musky, like oud, and yet fresh at the same time. The whole thing is a sensory experience.

You turn to find 308 and take deep breaths with each stride. You’re about to see him again. With each year that passes, you always worry things will have changed, and yet they never do. He is always the same Joel, the same scent, the same strong frame, the same quirks in his speech. He is something entirely familiar to you, just as you are to him. Two halves of a pair entirely in tune with one another, able to predict each others every word, every movement. He is the one constant you can always rely on. You just know him.

But when you insert the keycard and let yourself into the room, you are staring into the face of someone entirely unfamiliar.

“Uhh- I-“ You began to stutter. There must have been some mistake, but you don’t know what to say. ‘I’m sorry, I think uh- I-”

“Don’t worry.” He said with a smooth Texan accent. “You’re in the right place. You’re Joel’s girl, right?”

Your eyebrows draw together in confusion as you try to piece it together. The question, asked with such casualness as though he already knew it to be true, was so complicated that you could barely wrap your head round it. You weren’t Joel’s girl, not even close. Why did he think that? How does he know Joel?

Once you looked at him properly, you realised that whilst he was younger, this stranger, his resemblance to Joel other than that was striking. He looked more like him than his own brother. The same hooked nose and serious brow bone, but his hair was shorter and straighter, dark brown not yet peppered with grey like Joel’s. And unlike Joel’s scruff of stubble, this man was clean shaven except for a thick moustache.

So this was the surprise. You realised. Where the hell did he find this guy?

“What is this?” You ask. It came out harsher than you expected and you cringed at yourself for being so rude. But this was not part of the arrangement, and you hadn’t prepared yourself. The butterflies in your stomach swelled painfully.

“I don’t know, sweetheart.” He said. “Some kind of Halloween treat I guess.”

“Is it? Seems like more of a trick to me.”

The man chuckled, unphased by your comment. Whatever this was, well, you had a pretty good guess, and whilst you weren’t against it in theory, you were pissed Joel had pulled something like this. But he always had to change the rules and shock you. It was just part of his addictive game.

The man rose from the comfortable chair in which he had been slouched, thighs wide, manspreading and confidently exposing a bulging package inside his tight jeans. He reached for a bucket containing an expensive champagne, popped it open without any fuss and poured two large flutes full. He held one out for you and you took a tentative step towards him.

“I don’t bite.” He said, flashing a toothy grin that made you doubt his statement.

You took it from him anyway, your hand brushing against his large warm one as you clutched the stem. You took a sip and the warm bubbles floated down your chest and into your stomach, heat radiating where it mixed with the white wine from earlier.

Damn this whole situation, you think, and yet you can’t fool yourself into thinking you won’t do exactly what Joel intended you to do with this guy. When he calls, you answer. When he gives, you take. And when he tricks you into meeting a handsome stranger and screwing him, for whatever reason, you oblige just so.

“So, um…”

“Javi.”

“So, Javi.” You say. “What are you supposed to be dressed as?”

“Uhhh…” He hums as if he hadn’t really thought about it. “A cop.” He says eventually.

“Then where’s your uniform?” You challenge.

“Undercover cop I guess.” He shrugs, smirk plastered on his face. “You on the other hand. You went all out, huh?”

“Oh, this old thing?” You say, running your hand up your side from the hem of the dress to your cleavage, which you lean towards him for a better view.

His tongue flicks out across his lower lip. You giggle and lean back to where you had been sitting before, but he reaches an arm out to wrap around your waist and pull you a little closer towards him.

“How do you know him?” You ask. You don’t want to pry, but if you’re going to let him fuck you, you want at least a few details.

“Uhh…” His responses don’t come easily to any of your questions, as if he is consistently just thinking up answers before offering them. “We met at poker.”

“I didn’t know he gambled.” You say.

Javi looks at you with a quizzical expression, like it was obvious. Like Joel and gambling are synonymous and it wouldn’t make sense not to immediately associate them. It stings for some reason.

“Right.” He says, expression still twisted. “So not his girl then, I guess. Then how do you know him.”

But you hum too while you think of your answer, and so you give Javi some slack for his own hesitation.

“Old friends.” You say simply, giving nothing away. “How did this come about though?”

He laughs a little, ducking his head as if unsure whether to be honest. “A bet.”

“A bet?” Your eyes widen and you respond in shock. You’re rightfully offended by the insinuation, but it doesn’t make you angry. If anything, it sends another aching sensation between your legs. “He- He bet me? You won a bet for me?”

He laughs at that, a proper laugh, like the suggestion itself was downright ridiculous, although you are unsure why. You had considered it a pretty sound conclusion. “Actually, no.” He explains. “It was Joel who won the bet.”

Your eyebrows are drawn together in thought and he smirks as he watches you piece what you can together.

“So…” You say, unsure what to think of it all. “So he really wants us to do this?”

“I guess so.” He says, finishing off his champagne. Yours is empty too and he takes the glass from you, heading back to the desk to find the rest of the bottle. “You want another?” He asks.

You shake your head no and he comes and sits down next to you on the bed again.

“Is he… Is he coming? I mean are we supposed to wait or- or- do we have t-“

He cuts you off and puts a comforting hand on your thigh. “Hey, there is no ‘have to’. Whatever you like. I’m a man of the law, darlin’. I won’t make you.” He pauses just for a beat. “Unless that’s what you’re into.”

You flush at the insinuation, looking away from him. Damn your bashful complexion. Damn Joel for this twisted trick. Damn this handsome dude for making it impossible not to throw yourself into his lap and kiss him.

He responds to you immediately, his hands wasting no time feigning respectfulness before attaching to your ass and groping you through the tightly stretched fabric.

You grind into him as he deepens the kiss, one hand leaving your ass to come round and grip your jaw. The thick denim of his jeans stimulates you through the thin barrier of your underwear.

“Dirty girl.” He says as you speed up your movements, grinding yourself against his growing bulge deliberately to pleasure yourself. “That outfit just pretend or somethin’? Where’d ya learn to do that?”

You don’t speak back and you focus on unbuttoning his shirt instead, not breaking the kiss as you work at the buttons. The alcohol has affected your dexterity and eventually he pulls back and starts undoing them himself. You reach for his belt instead, unclasping it and then pulling down the zip on his jeans.

By then his shirt is off, and you take in the wide expanse of honey skin. He is slimmer than Joel, but still built strong. Lean and toned muscle take the place of Joel’s, which are hardened by life but softened by age. It’s not just the resemblance that had you comparing the two. You compared every lover to Joel. Eventually you just had to stop sleeping with anyone else, because no one measured up. There was simply before Joel, and after Joel. And after Joel, well… nothing else would suffice. Apart from this handsome stranger nominated by Joel personally. That, you were willing to try.

You fumble clumsily with his jeans until he takes over that, too. He grinds his palm into the hard bulge as he does so. You smirk a little when the trail of hair that is peeking out is revealed further, showing he isn’t wearing underwear.

He pushes them down his legs, not bothering to remove them fully, lays backwards, and then his hands are grabbing at your sides and pulling you up further so you are sitting on his stomach.

“You’re just something else, ain’t ya?” He says, his voice thick with desire for you.

You flush and he starts to take apart your costume, removing the head piece and uncovering your hair which remains perfect underneath. Then, he reaches behind you and unzips the dress, his touch gentle but still urgent, fuelled by desire. You raise your arms to let him slide it over your head, exposing your bare chest, and his hands immediately move to cup your breasts, kneading gently and toying with your nipples with his thumbs.

“Look at you…” He coos.

You basked in his attention. He was softer than Joel. Sweeter. Then you scolded yourself for comparing them and tried to enjoy the moment, leaning down to kiss him.

He pushed you away. “Uhuh.”

You frown, but he is quickly grabbing your thighs and pulling you further up his chest towards his face. You let him guide you until you are hovering over him, his mouth kissing at you through your lace underwear.

You let out a desperate sigh and you feel him smirk under you. He presses another few kisses before opening his mouth and dragging his tongue up and down your underwear.

You feel yourself shaking a little already, and you put effort into breathing deeply to avoid pathetically moaning so soon.

You gasp as Javi brings his hand up to your underwear, pulling it aside so his tongue has access to your wet core.

As soon as his tongue connects, he lets out a groan. Your knees shake and whilst you had been trying to hover slightly before, you end up fully sitting on his face. This encourages him even more, sloppily eating you out, his nose brushing your clit. He licks, sucks, and kisses each spot perfectly. His moustache tickles a little and you realise you have never slept with a dude with one before.

“Oh, god-“ You gasp, cutting yourself off with a loud moan. “Javiii-“

He moans into you as he eats you out hungrily, sending vibrations around your aching core.

“Fuck-“ You say. You rip yourself out of his grasp and shuffle down his body where his cock stands, hard and throbbing. You had to stop him before you came all over his face. Joel wouldn’t have appreciated that.

You glide your dripping cunt up and down his shaft, wetting it before rising up on your knees and taking it gently in your hand. You sink down onto it and watch his expression. He grits his teeth in pleasure.

You let it fill you for a moment, not moving while you adjust to his length. He has less girth than Joel, but not much. His length is equal, hitting a spot deep inside you as you gently rock back and forth. Once you are prepared, you start to move, slowly at first, but with gradually increasing pace and force.

Using your hands to help you balance, you start to bounce in a quick rhythm up and down his length. Your tits jiggle in his face, the cross hitting against his lips. He takes it between his teeth and you giggle, your hole fluttering and pulsing as you do so. This causes him to spit it out, his mouth opening in a sensual moan.

“Fuck, baby, you ride this cock so damn good-“ He pants, hands grabbing at your ass greedily, spreading your cheeks and helping you with your momentum as you bounce on his length shamelessly. The praise encourages you to keep trying hard to please him.

Your moans are desperate as you keep going, your head thrown back and your mouth open. Your eyes roll pornographically. When you eventually summon the strength to open them and look down at him, you see him transfixed on you.

“Yeah, yeah just like that.” He grunts, “Fucking ride that dick, baby, yeah. Oh yeah just like that”

You are too wrapped up in the sensations, the sounds, of you and Javi, that you don’t notice the door opening. It’s heavy footsteps on the lush carpet that break you out of your trance. You whip your head round, the motion of your hips not faltering, as you make eye contact with him. Joel. At last.

He smiles a dark smile, his eyes wide as he takes in the scene before him. You realise how depraved it must all be from his perspective, the bejewelled Cross sticking to your tits with sweat as you bounce on this stranger’s cock.

“Don’t be rude, baby.” Are the first words out of his mouth. “Keep your eyes on what you’re doing.”

You break away from looking at him reluctantly, focussing your attention back on Javi, whose head is thrown back into the pillows, mouth falling open and eyes now closed in pleasure. You see sweat glistening on his throat and something urges you to lean down and lick a wide stripe up it, the salty taste beautiful on your tongue.

You try to pay attention to Javi and not let yourself get distracted by Joel’s movements. You hear the splash of liquid into a glass and realise you had observed his favourite whiskey earlier, right next to the champagne bucket. The signs of him had been all over the room already and you hadn’t noticed.

You continue to chase your pleasure, the alcohol supplying you with a rare confidence that left you able to perform for both men with little shame. You slow down your movements, feeling Javi deep inside you and grinding your clit against the dark curls at the base of him. Your moans become louder as you do so, rubbing against him rhythmically until you feel the tension of an orgasm building.

“I’m gonna cum.” You gasp, your voice strained.

“No you’re not.” Says the voice from behind you.

Javi’s eyes are open again, watching you, taking in every expression on your face. He smirks at Joel’s words and grips your thighs, preventing you from moving.

“Please-“ You gasp, unsure which of the two men you are pleading with. Your hips jerk involuntarily to chase the same sensation you had been creating previously but Javi keeps a firm grip on you.

“No. You’re going to step being selfish and ride him like a good girl.” Joel instructs. “And you’re gonna hold it. The only cock you’ll come on will be mine.”

You whimper pathetically, turning your head to look at Joel, who is sitting in the armchair I the corner of the room with a perfect view of the bed, hopeful that your wrecked expression might make him take pity on you.

“What did I tell you about manners already?” He scolds, unmoved by you. “Don’t look at me. Look at him.”

When you do, you find Javi’s expression is amused. He doesn’t add to the exchange, simply observing you and Joel’s dynamic, listening as the other man bends you to his will so easily.

You brace your hands on his chest once again and try to follow Joel’s instruction, abandoning the pleasure you had been giving yourself by grinding on his cock and going back to bouncing on it. You can’t find your rhythm and Javi helps you, thrusting his hips upwards into you.

Joel tuts disapprovingly as he watches, taunting, “You’ve forgotten how to ride a cock properly, huh? Need a lesson?”

You whine in frustration and embarrassment, giving up on your own movements and letting Javi control the pace from under you, rutting up into you with enough force that you still need to grasp at his chest to keep your balance. Your tits align with his face and he reaches up with his mouth to suck at one of your nipples.

You hear Joel moving and before you can wonder what he is doing, there are hands on you. His large palms wrap around your waist from behind, holding you tightly. Javi stops moving and Joel starts to control you, lifting you up and dropping you down harshly onto Javi’s cock. You let out a high pitched moan, to Joel’s displeasure.

“Be quiet.” He says. “This isn’t for you.”

He does it repeatedly, forcing you up and down again and again until you lose all control of your upper body, collapsing back into Joel’s wide frame. You bite your lip to hold back your moans, and then Javi helps you by reaching up and sticking a thumb into your mouth. You suck it obediently and you hear him curse under his breath.

“You gonna show him what else your mouth can do, baby?” Joel growls into your ear.

You nod eagerly and Joel lifts you off of Javi. You whimper, the sensation of being empty is unpleasant. Joel laughs darkly.

“Greedy little cunt.” He says. “Doesn’t wanna go a second without being filled up, huh?”

You ignore his teasing and get onto all fours, crawling between Javi’s legs, knowing that simultaneously, you are giving Joel the perfect view of your wet pussy. But he doesn’t touch you again and you hear his footsteps moving away from the bed. You are disappointed but after being chastised twice for looking at him, you manage to resist that urge and focus on Javi’s cock.

You start with just licking, gathering up the taste of your own juices from his shaft. You moan lightly and feel your pussy throb.

“Such a tease.” Javi says, tangling one hand into your hair. The other tucks behind his own head as he lounges back in the luxurious bedding, the image of nonchalance.

His comment doesn’t stop you, though. This is your style. You lick the tip, swirling round it with your tongue. He chases your mouth with a thrust of his hips but you pull your head back at the same time, stopping him from controlling the pace. He growls in displeasure but you choose to maintain the little semblance of control for a while longer. You replace your tongue with a hand, wrapping it around him and letting your mouth travel lower, teasing his balls with light kitten licks. He groans and you take one into your mouth fully, sucking lightly.

“Jesus-“ He sighs, bucking his hips up again involuntarily. You continue for a moment, swirling your tongue around it as it fills your mouth before releasing it with a pop and swapping the position of your mouth and hands once again.

Your hands massage his balls lightly and you finally take the head of his cock into your mouth. You lower your head slowly, very slowly, until it’s halfway in and hits the back of your throat, before rising off of it again just as slowly. He’s more patient than Joel, who would have put a stop to this much before now.

You do it again, your speed increasing only incrementally. He twitches inside your mouth and you feel his fingers gripping your hair tighter in a sign of his impatience. Soon, the game is up, and he starts forcing your head up and down urgently. You gag and splutter all over his cock but he doesn’t slow down. You are so wrapped up in it, that it takes you a while to register a weight on the bed behind you, until eventually, your attention is grabbed by a hard cock gliding up and down your wet seam.

You moan around Javi’s cock which leads him to relent in his pace a little, choosing to savour the feeling instead.

“Now you remember what I told you.” Joel says. “Don’t take your eyes off him.”

You can’t respond other than to try and nod which leads the tip of Javi’s cock to prod forcefully into the back of your throat. You gag again and feel your hole convulse, Joel grits his teeth.

He presses the tip into you slowly and within just an inch, you are so full. Full of Javi in your mouth and full of Joel now, too. You moan as he pushes further and further in, your sweet sounds sending vibrations around Javi’s cock that have him cursing incessantly.

Joel’s hands reach to take both of your hips and as soon as he has sheathed himself fully, he is pulling out again and setting an aggressive pace. This is his favourite position and you imagine it is only enhanced for him, as it is for you, by seeing your mouth all filled up too, rendering you incapable of speech, locked in place between the two men.

He hammers into you and you lose control, the blowjob becoming messier, spit dribbling all down Javi’s cock so that it is sliding in and out of your throat with little resistance. Neither of them limit the harshness of their actions, Joel pounding into your cunt and Javi into your throat. The sensation is unlike anything you have ever felt. You don’t think you can get any fuller until you feel Joel’s wet thumb prodding at your ass.

You cry out as he slips it inside you. He groans, low and satisfied. “You like that baby, huh? You like us taking up every single one of your slutty holes? Filthy whore that you are. Jesus-“

You moan at his words and Javi starts to twitch inside your mouth. He pulls your mouth off of him suddenly, not wanting to finish yet. You lower your head turning your cheek so that it rests on his thigh, your back arching in an extreme fashion. He just watches, rubbing himself gently as Joel continues to abuse both of your holes from behind.

Then eventually he pushes you off of him and moves, your eyes are closed but Joel watches what he is doing as he gets off the bed and stands at its edge, pumping his cock in his hand. Joel manoeuvres you so you are facing Javi again.

“Can I come in her mouth?” Javi asks Joel.

Joel lets out a mean laugh. “You don’t have to ask that, man. What else is a whore’s mouth good for?”

You whimper, your cunt throbbing and pulsing around Joel, unbelievably turned on by hearing them talk about you, not to you, like you aren’t even the third participant in this event.

Javi rubs his cock over your face, your cheeks, slapping at your chin with it. Just because he can. Your mouth falls open and he feeds the tip to you slowly, giving you a false sense of security before roughly slamming in the rest of the length. It forces you backwards, impaling you harder on Joel’s cock and the now two fingers which are exploring your asshole.

You feel as though you are the rope in some sick game of tug of war, the way the two of them pass you back and forth between them. Eventually you can’t even separate the sensations both men are giving you and you are left weak and boneless, just moving with the hammering tide that pulls you in and pushes you away again and again.

It’s Javi’s pace that falters first, moans and expletives escaping from his lips until his salty hot load fills your mouth. He half pulls out and spills the remainder over your cheeks and nose. It drips all over your face and he holds you up by your chin. His thumb drifts over the hot spend and directs it towards you mouth. You swallow it all and suck his fingers clean.

“Jesus, I could watch that all day.” He says. But he doesn’t, and he walks away from you after only a brief few seconds. With Javi satisfied, Joel flips you over so you are on your back. He lifts your feet, placing both ankles on his shoulders, ploughing you harder than you thought possible. You had imagined he was fucking you full force before, but like always, he ends up having just that little bit more to give.

You moan and whine helplessly, his pace unrelenting and his stamina downright cruel. You are unable to open your eyes, absolutely exhausted from him and Javi’s treatment. He doesn’t mind, satisfied with your performance already and happy to use you for his pleasure when you are in this state, soft and pliable to his every will. You vaguely register the sound of the door opening and then closing, the two men offering noncommittal farewells to one another.

“Oh, my baby.” Joel is whispering gently. “You did so well for me. You impressed me so much, sweetheart, I’m so proud of you.”

His rambling seems to go on for a long while, but then again, you don’t know how much of a concept of time you even have left. Some of his words seem distant, like they’re coming to you through a filter. Some of them are so unbelievable that you discount them as just being part of a dream.

“I��m so proud of you, my sweet girl. Always so good for me. Always do so well for me. My sweet baby.”

He must think you’re asleep, talking like this. You still aren’t entirely convinced you are awake either.

Your name falls from his lips like a prayer as he finishes inside you. You think he holds you like that for longer than usual, until he is completely soft and slips out of you, both his and your juices leaking onto the bed. He cleans you up and he kisses you. He kisses you everywhere, your face, your neck, your chest, down your stomach. You keen towards him unconsciously, weak hands grabbing at whatever part of him you can reach and ending up tangled in the curls at the nape of his neck.

“What am I gonna do with you, my girl? Hmm?” He hums into the crook of your neck.

You must have fallen asleep, although you’re not sure for how long. When your eyes flutter open, it’s still dark, and you register a weight in the bed next to you. You turn towards it.

Joel’s eyes are already open and he is gazing at you intently.

“Hi.” He says.

“Hey.” You say. You can’t help the word from trailing off into a giggle. He renders you downright stupid.

He reaches out a hand to your cheek and strokes it with the pad of his thumb, before moving to push some hair behind your ear with his other fingers. These are his rare affectionate gestures, and whilst you aren’t experiencing them for the first time, they certainly aren’t frequent.

“It’s been a long year.” He says.

You never talk about the time you spend apart. All that matters is the precious, no, sacred, time that you do get together.

“It always is, for me.” You say. He tenses a little in response and you curse yourself silently for having said too much.

To your relief, he relaxes again and pulls your body closer to him. Warmth radiates from the place where your head meets his broad chest. He kisses into the top of your head, inhaling deeply the scent of your shampoo. It’s coconut. He kisses you again and again.

Suddenly, he speaks.

“I don’t know if I can do this again.” He says.

You freeze up. A chill runs down your spine. He wants to break off the arrangement? Somehow you feel blindsided, even though every year the possibility crosses your mind that he’ll finally do it.

Maybe that’s why he brought you Javi. Maybe he thought you would hit it off and you could just move on with him, offered up to you like meat on a platter for your own convenience. Your mind runs through the last few hours in an instant, looking for any sign, any hint from Joel that was this coming. You find none.

He, blissfully unaware of every thought racing around your head, continues, rubbing salt in the wound.

“I just- I just don’t think I can do it again. I’m sorry.” He repeats.

Your heart is racing, your stomach doing backflips. This was inevitable. He’s probably met someone else. Someone who he wants more from than what he wants from you. Someone his own age who thinks the same things he does. Someone who understands the references and jokes that fly over your head. Someone who is the opposite of everything that you are insecure about. Someone powerful and equally matched for him.

But then he speaks again, quieter this time. “Listen baby, the waiting it’s just- I can’t do it anymore. How could one night a year ever be enough? I need ‘em all.”

Oh my god. You honestly thought you must have been dreaming for a moment, unable to process his words and reconcile them with actual reality.

He is silent for a long while and you realise he must be waiting on a response, but you can’t find words.

“I- I-“

You hesitate and he cuts you off. His voice is guarded now.

“No, yeah. You don’t have to explain. It’s whatever. I figured you must have someone else anyway. Didn’t wanna assume but… Yeah. It figures.”

“No.” You say quickly. “There’s no one else. There hasn’t been anyone else for- for years.”

A silence grows again. And eventually, you are first to fill it.

“How could there be anyone else?” You say. “I just stopped trying to find anyone else. It’s always been you for me, Joel. No point trying to fight that.” Your voice trails off to a whisper.

He puts a thumb under your chin, raising it so your eyes meet his for the first time during the exchange. His brown irises sparkle, lighter than you have ever seen them. He presses his lips to yours and kisses you desperately, muttering practically intelligibly about “My baby. God why didn’t I just ask sooner? My sweet baby. All mine.”

You drift off to sleep again, a tangle of limbs, breathing each other in. You don’t know what will happen in the morning, but at least you know that this time, it won’t be a year until you see Joel again.

Thanks for reading! Masterlist

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3boxesblog · 9 months ago

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cressidagrey · 4 months ago

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New Pursuits - Chapter 2: Bathing

Summary:

The shadows decide that Azriel needs a hobby.

5 times when said hobby-related shenanigans didn’t end so well…and the one time where it may end up better than Azriel could ever have imagined.

Warnings:

Rhys bashing, the shadows steal some wine

(super pretty dividers thanks to @saradika)

If you want me to try another hobby, please do it another day , he requested under his breath, feeling about ready to splinter apart. The only thing I want is a bath and then my bed .

Bath and then bed and then sleep…and then he didn’t need to think about today anymore.

Summer had officially reached Velaris, leaving the city glowing in Sunlight…making Feyre think that having dinner outside as a picnic was a grand idea…

Quite frankly it had been lovely at the River Estate.

If Feyre hadn’t invited Lucien along. And if Elain hadn’t for the very first time been hesitant but happy to accept his invitation for dinner.

But Azriel could have dealt with that. It was fine. It was. Until Rhys decided that he didn’t trust Azriel enough to do nothing and had instead slithered into his mind and kept the equivalent of a leash on him.

Maybe it should have amused him…it only pissed him off.

Like he would have done anything. Like he…

Elain could make her own fucking decisions and clearly , he didn’t factor into them. Not anymore.

And that was fine.

Rhys didn’t need to…Rhys didn’t need to fight her battles for her.

So he kept an iron grip on his temper. And even more adamantium control of his shadows so they weren’t going to lash out and start an outright war, right there in Feyre’s garden.

The roses had just started to bloom, he didn’t want to destroy them.

And then after dessert, he said his goodbyes, he forced a smile on his face and then he got to go to the House of Wind, closed the door behind himself…and let the shadows go, swarming around himself.

Azriel was fucking done .

He could hear a few wayward tendrils bitch to themselves like they were prone to be doing if they were furious about something… but Azriel didn’t even have it in himself to defend Rhys right now.

So instead, he let the shadows help as he got rid of his shirt and unlaced his boots and rubbed a hand through his hair.

Bath. Then bed. Then sleep. And for a few glorious hours, he wouldn’t need to talk to anybody.

What if you don’t need to move from the bathtub? The shadows suggested suddenly.

His eyebrows rose. He only had a few ideas of what kind of hobbies one could have in a bathtub and unless the shadows were going to give him a couple of rubber ducks to play with…they also weren’t in the habit of outright kidnapping people unless ordered. So…

Not that, Master. A trace of amusement in their voices. Well, you can do that too if you want to. You haven’t since…

Since Solstice probably.

But he hadn’t…hadn’t really wanted to.

He could hear the shadows start the water and he dragged himself into the bathing chamber only so that they wouldn’t start badgering him.

The faint smell of lavender hung in the air.

The bathtub was surrounded by candles. Azriel didn’t even want to know where the shadows had gotten these from. Or whatever they were pouring into the water that resulted in plenty of foam and bubbles.

All in all, it was very…much not the baths he usually took. Then it was an in-and-out kind of thing, scrubbing himself down with whatever soap bar happened to be in the bathroom.

This…This was… luxuriating.

Still, he couldn’t help himself to ask: Not even a rubber duck?

Seconds later, a bright yellow duck hit the water and Azriel couldn’t help but grin. Why not.

So he slid into that hot water, hissing slightly when it touched his sensitive wings and took a deep breath as the shadows poured some lilac-coloured concoction into the water.

The Morrigan takes baths, they told him excitedly. Years ago, that simple mention of Mor would have been enough to make him…happy. To make something warm and bright glow in his chest and to make him start to make ridiculous plans about how to seduce her that he had never acted on. He had known that…He had known that that wasn’t going to happen.

But he hadn’t been able to tell that heart that.

That’s nice for her, he responded softly. It was. Mor should have all the good things in the world. Mor should be happy. Even when that wasn't with him.

And then when he had finally gotten over it…of course, he needed to go for the next unavailable female. The next one of which he knew Rhys wasn’t going to be pleased with his feelings.

Elain.

Why did he even bother anymore?

Did you steal it from Mor? he asked, not really interested in the answer.

Sometimes his shadows could be…a bit…prickly. He still remembered a time, centuries ago, when after an especially bad fight with Cassian, they had made sure to hide Cassian’s favourite knife from him for the better part of a year . Cassian had laid it next to himself before falling asleep and the shadows had picked it up and hidden it every night in more and more ridiculous places.

So if they stole it from Morrigan, it was the shadow's idea of a useless sort of punishment for some way that they thought Mor had wronged him.

She won’t notice it missing. They responded easily. She doesn’t use anything lavender-scented anymore.

Right.

He had half a mind to admonish them because they couldn’t just go around stealing stuff they thought he would like…Which they had also done on more than one occasion.

And then they appeared to put a crystal wine glass on the edge of the bathtub, decorated with Rhys’ Cypher and poured Azriel a glass of red wine.

Now they were just being petty.

He couldn’t help but start snorting with laughter at the whole situation.

There he was, in a bathtub, together with a rubber duck, surrounded by lavender-scented bubbles, candles, and a glass of wine the shadows had stolen from Rhysand’s wine cellar.

The High Lord has more than enough wine, they responded defensively. Yeah, he did. Still.

Azriel just snorted another time, before he took that crystal glass, taking a deep sip.

Oh, even a nice vintage. One of the most expensive wines. Only used for special occasions.

Love you too, he told the shadows that seemed pleased with their work and he leaned back in the tub, letting the warmth seep into tired muscles.

Another sip of wine…A taste of sweetness…the scent of lavender…

It was nearly sensual.

He thought back to the shadow's words…

For just a moment, he wondered if he should. He could. He wasn’t beholden to anybody.

If he wanted to go out and fuck half of Velaris…he could. If he wanted to pleasure himself…he could do that.

And then he thought back to these words on Solstice, still engraved in his brain…and any want evaporated like it had never been there in the first place.

He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to touch himself and think of Mor or Elain or any other female. He didn’t want to go to Rita’s and find himself somebody to share his bed for a night. He didn't want to go to a Pleasure Hall and pay to fuck a willing female. He didn’t want to be touched by anybody.

You are supposed to relax, not brood, Master, the shadows said quietly. One tendril came to wrap itself around his shoulder and he relaxed. He could deal with their touch. They weren’t out to hurt him. He knew that. That touch was just simple comfort...they just tried to make it better.

And he was craving that.

I’m sorry, he apologised. They were just trying to take care of him. In their own way.

The shadows huffed but dropped a jar in his hands.

What’s that?

A Mud Mask. You are supposed to put that on your face.

Oh, fuck it. Why not. So he screwed it open and took the grey, slimy mud in there to put it all over his face. If the shadows thought he should do it…what could go wrong?

What else? He asked next and quickly enough they offered him a whole range of tonics for his hair.

Did you steal that from Mor as well? He asked drily as he selected one of them to pour over his unruly dark waves. He never usually bothered with it. But then, he had also been known to cut his own hair when it got too long for his liking…or he went to Rosehall and visited his mother and let her do it.

She liked it when she got to dote on him when they both could pretend his childhood hadn’t been ripped from both of them.

He couldn’t help but feel guilty every time he went to visit, that he couldn’t be a better son to her, that he couldn't stand her hugs for longer than a few minutes, that he couldn't tell her how much she meant to him.

But it stuck in the back of his throat.

And so he wrote her letters and had the shadows deliver them to her, and he made sure that she always had enough money and he went there in the winter and hacked up all the wood for her stove so that she didn’t need to worry about that…he tried to take care off her. As well as he could.

As well as she let him.

No. The General, the shadows responded easily. He has a lot of those…More than even Lady Death.

He couldn’t help but bite back a grin at that little tidbit of information. He had lines that he didn’t cross for his family and friends, secrets that shadows found out about but never talked to him about unless he asked…but sometimes he did find out something about one of them that was so charming and silly and innocuous that he couldn’t help but laugh about it to himself.

He washed out that tonic and the mud from his face and washed himself with the bar of soap the shadows provided…

You know what? Definitely one of your better ideas. My skin and my hair have never been so soft, he told them. Though I don’t think I want to do this every evening.

Still, maybe once every few months…The wine itself made it worth it.

Granted, he may lost every bit of his dignity, when he nearly face-planted on the floor, slipping on the wet tiles and if the shadows hadn’t rushed out to steady him, he would have gotten a broken nose and a black eye for his trouble

Master!

I really hope you never tell anybody about that.

#acotar fanfiction #a pocketful of stars #new pursuits #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #my writing

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