#new designer evening dresses for wedding

[starryluminary]

I would like to thank Sierra for 1: giving me the opportunity to draw Noah in a wedding dress and 2: not making me draw Cody's bangs for once in these edits. For that and that alone, thank you

Masterlist | Bonus (TBP)

DeaKids watermark, original screenshots and test sketches!

[lacetulle]

Anna Vasileff in custom Paolo Sebastian

[chickenwaffles17]

hey you ever think about how the Cullen's love-bombing eventually replaced Bella's personality?

She mentions multiple times in the books that she despises expensive gifts, and the ones that actually leave an impact on are her Chevy and the wooden wolf bracelet Jacob gives her. The Chevy is second-hand from Billy, and the bracelet was carved by Jacob. They hold value to her because they have personality; they speak to her tastes and were given to her with those tastes in mind.

She loves her Chevy, but it is eventually replaced with a sleek, expensive designer car gifted to her by the Cullens. She adores the bracelet but Edward puts an designer charm on it to remind her of him.

Even her clothes, which she insists are fine and suit her, are replaced with branded sweaters, dresses and heels.

She hates the idea of any kind of marriage but Edward holds vampirism over her head to get what he wants. Even when she agrees to marry him (against her will) she wants to keep it simple, wanting to simply drive to Texas and get married via a drive thru- Alice begs Bella to allow her to plan the wedding and it's easily more ostentacious and expensive than her birthday party in New Moon, which she describes as "a hundred times worse than I'd imagined"

They get rid of her preferred aesthetics in hopes that their consumerist one will stick, and one of the last things they do to her is literally strip her of her humanity.

She becomes a cold, perfect creature and as a result, is no longer allowed to have ties to her father, mother, her best friend or the interests she had before. She's converted into a Cullen and this shit is supposed to be romantic.

[eddiesxangel]

That’s that me, Espresso | rockstar!eddie

@mmunson86 requested: I can’t stop thinking about rockstar!Eddie x pop!Princess! reader! & its all thanks to miss SC & Espresso! Imagine they are at one of her concerts right right & she has Eddie sit in the middle of the stage! she is about to debut this song its the last song for the night and she dances on him , for him , around him & Eddie is loosing his mind so right after the concert he wastes no time and takes her into the dressing room & the rest well you know the rest 🙂‍↔️💗

Cw: modern au, Rockstar!Eddie x Pop!princes wife reader. Age gap, Eddie is a filthy simp for his girl, soft!Dom Eddie (sir), oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected), small bit of anal fingering. Talks of pregnancy.

2.3kwords

We are back baby!!! From the Wildflower universe, if you want more of the lore on these two.

“You ready, Angel?” Your husband smiles at you.

Husband, it still has a nice ring to it. You’ve been married just under a year. Giving birth to your little one put the wedding on the back burner, but you started the wedding planning once Lila Rose was 7 months old.

“Yeah, I think so,” you smile. You’re already in your hair and makeup, just waiting for your turn to get on stage.

The rowdy crowd of music festival goers grow impatient as the crew tirelessly works to remove the previous acts' set design.

“You think they’re going to like the new song?” You fiddle with the bedazzled mic in your hands.

“You kidding me? They’re going to love it!”

Eddie always encouraged your work, even if it wasn’t his thing. He loved every song because it was yours.

“All performers take their mark,” you hear the stage director in your ear.

You give Eddie one quick kiss and make your way to the stage.

The set went perfectly, but the riding anticipation of the new single was still in the back of your mind.

“Okay, Coachella! I’m going to need you to help me out with something.” You smile. “This is my last song of the night, and it’s brand new, so I’m a bit nervous.” You pace the stage.

“Now I have a special someone backstage with me, and I know he won’t come out unless we pressure him, so I’m going to need your help, okay?” you walk over to side stage and look him in the eye

You knew he would kill you, but you needed him for the extra moral support, and you kinda had a plan up your sleeve.

“Come on out, Eddie, baby,” you smile, and the crow starts to chant Eddie’s name.

Feeling embarrassed and a bit proud of you for getting what you wanted. Eddie stocks onto the stage, giving a small wave, not wanting this to be about him.

“Sit,” you speak into the mic and point to the fold-out chair in centre stage.

Eddie sits, and before he can protest anymore, he hears the first few beats of the music.

“Nice,” you sing in your breathy tone your husband can’t get enough of.

Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo

Eddie really loved that last lyric. He thought it was very clever of you because he knew it was about him and how he eats you out.

Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso.

You and your dancers moved to the beat without missing a step.

I can't relate to desperation My 'give a fucks' are on vacation And I got this one boy

You turn to your husband and wink.

And he won't stop calling

You take a few short steps around to the back of the chair.

When they act this way

You lean in from behind and run your free hand down his shoulder to his chest and back up.

I know I got 'em

You swear you hear him moan.

I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer

You twirl your hair around your finger, then summon Eddie to come closer.

Oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger

He gets up and follows you like a puppy as you strut across the stage. My twisted humor, make him laugh so often My honey bee, come and get this pollen.

You flick up the edge of your mini skirt, and Eddie can see the lacy underwear beneath your stockings.

He needs this song to be over so he can finally have you. You've been rehearsing for this moment for months now. Stressing over it and with the baby, you and him have had hardly any time to have sex like you used to.

He's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso

Eddie is back in his seat by the second bridge, and your dancing is driving him absolutely crazy. You know what you are doing. He can see it in your eyes; your mischievous gaze tells him you had this all planned out. You probably faked being nervous just to get him out here so you could seduce him.

Eddie was losing the battle of not getting hard in front of the thousands of fans watching. He couldn't help it; his bombshell of a wife was so irresistible.

Is it that sweet? I guess so That's that me, espresso

Eddie listened as you thanked the crowd. He took your hand and yanked you off stage once he thought it had been enough time for your final bow, letting you soak in this moment before he whisked you away.

“Eddie!” You squeal while trying to keep up with him in your platform go-go boots.

“Gotta have, you know,” he growls in your ear so only you can hear.

“Really baby? I worked you up that much?” You swoon.

After all this time, Eddie still makes your heart flutter. You never thought soulmates existed, but when you met Eddie, all that changed- especially after having his baby. The way he was with your newborn had you wanting to jump his bones before the doctor okayed you for sex again.

The trailer was close but not close enough in Eddie’s eyes. A thin sheen of sweat was starting to form on Eddie’s brow, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the hot Californian sun or the fact that his cock was about to bust through his jeans, and he was trying not to have anyone notice.

“Get out,” Eddie commands as the trailer door swings back. Eddie opens it so hard.

Your team looks startled as you and Eddie enter the small space.

You give them an apologetic look and they place down their stuff and leave you both alone.

“You were perfect up there.” he pulls you in for a kiss. “So fucking proud of you.” He kisses down your neck.

“Mmmm, thank you, baby”

“You’re a goddamn succubus, you know that, Angel?” Eddie shuts the door behind them and locks it before drawing the blinds.

“Is that right? Mr. Munson.”

“Oh, it is, Mrs. Munson.” Eddie pulls you in by the waist for a heated kiss. Still, after all this time, you both were so greedy for one another. Nothing can ever break the bond between the both of you… not again.

“God, Angel, you were a goddamn tease on that stage; you got me looking like a simp.”

You pull back, curious as to where he had heard that term.

“Simp?”

“VR tells me things.” Violet Rose, Eddie's oldest, whom you’ve adopted, is now twenty two.

“Okay, old man,” you giggle, and he walks you back to the sofa in the trailer’s back corner.

“Enough talking, more kissing.”

Your tailored dress, made just for you, was not easy to strip. Eddie was having a hell of a time trying to get out of it, only to groan when he saw your pantyhose as another barrier.

“Why do they make these things so tight.” He grumbles as you giggle at him.

“You weren’t complaining about it ten minutes ago,” you snide.

“Don’t make me put you over my knee.” He smirks.

“No, Sir,” you put your lip.

Finally, once you are out of your garments, Eddie kneels right between your legs.

“Baby, you’re going to hurt your knees,” You push his long hair back. “Why don’t we go -OH - to the couch” Not listening, his lips are already on your throbbing cunt.

The plus from your clit was relieved as Eddie’s tongue grazes it before quickly lapping and flicking at it.

“Oh fuck!” Your legs buckle, and your grip on Eddie’s hair tightens. He growls at the pain in his scalp, but he loves it all the same.

You feel his tongue go down, then to the left, then the right and finally circles your clit.

“Mmmmm, tastes so good, Angel”

“Please don’t stop!”

You feel Eddie's skilled tongue glide through your slick folds before you feel his hands nudge your legs, signalling to open them wider.

Eddie’s thick long fingers pump up into your warm wet cunt until you’re losing the battle to say upright. Your body is hunched over as Eddie sends waves of pleasure through you.

“Mmmm, that’s it, that’s my good girl. Cum for me.” The pads of his fingers graze you g spot each time. He doesn’t stop until he knows you are satisfied.

“That was a big one, baby; singing for me, go, you all worked up, didn’t it?” He stands and leads you to the couch until you’re lying down, legs spread nice and wide for him.

“Mmmhmmm,” you hum as you watch Eddie finally strip.

His body never looked better; he wants to be the healthiest to watch your baby grow up and maybe put another one in you soon.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir, more than ready.” And it was true; it’s been a few weeks since you’ve had time to have sex, and it was long overdue.

All the pent-up sexual tension between the both of you is finally being released when Eddie's hard cock slides into yours effortlessly.

“Fuck I missed my pussy, baby girl.” His head tilts back, and you take the opportunity to suck on his neck, just as you know he likes it.

“So fucking beautiful” his cock pumped in and quickly backed out.

The tip of his dick ring never failed to make you see stars. Already you’re a moaning mess for him, cock drunk, and it’s not even been a minute yet.

“There she is, there’s my good girl” Eddie palms your tit as he continues to thrust deep inside of you. He watches your eyes roll to the back of your head, blissed out by how he makes you feel.

“More” you moan.

“More what?”

“Sir, please, I need you. Baby, I love you. I love you, please, I need it.” You babble.

Eddie's heart swells. He loves you so much he would give you the moon and stars if he could. Hearing you love him, especially when the two of you are like this, really makes him kick into high gear.

He will never take for granted those three words when you say them to him; your past is too painful not to.

“Tell me what you need, baby girl.”

“Fill me.” You pull him down into a kiss. Your tongue explores his mouth.

His hand that was planted on your waist is now travelling lower to your ass.

“This what you wanted, baby? All of your holes filled?” His finger teases your puckered hole.

“Yes!” You gasp.

“I think that can be arranged. Suck” he points his finger at your face, and you take as much of it in your mouth. You suck on it until it’s dripping with your saliva.

“Such a dirty girl, letting me fuck you and play with your ass hole.” His finger slowly glides in, and he pumps it to match the rhythm of his thrusts. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir!”

“God, I love you.” Eddie can’t help but to fuck you frivolously. The sound of wet skin slapping together filled the thin walls of the trailer.

“Please, please, please.” You were so close you could feel the pit building.

The pressure of his piercing brushing your g spot with every heavy thrust, each shape snap of his hips making him slide deep inside-mixed with the pressure of his finger pressed deep inside of you was bringing you to the edge of bliss.

“You going to come when I tell you to, Angel?”

“I can’t-can’t hold it!”

“Yes, you can,” he growls.

“F-fuck,” you curse him. You can’t hold it for much longer.

“Mmm, that’s right, babygirl. You’re going to listen to what I tell you.”

Your pussy naturally grips Eddie's cock so tight he almost loses it.

“Please, Sir. I want to cum. Please!”

The look in your eyes has Eddie reeling. The way you beg and submit to him, his perfect girl. His perfect wife, the perfect mother to his children.

“Cum” he growls, and you let out a cry of relief.

With your arms wrapped around the back of Eddie's neck, you pull him down into you on instinct. His body weight pressed into you, and your cunt grips his cock so deliciously Eddie is coming with you.

“Shit, baby girl, I think you nearly killed me that time,” Eddie chuckles as his legs give out and his total weight collapses on top of you.

You giggle dumbly as Eddie plants kisses all over your face.

You look up; his face is red and sweaty, but he’s never looked more beautiful.

“That was long overdue.” You sigh with relief.

“You’re telling me,” he chuckles with you.” “Let’s get you cleaned up, mama.”

“You trying to knock me up, Munson?” Deep down, you’d love to have another baby.

“What if I was?” He looks back over his shoulder, catching you checking out his juicy ass.

“Then I’d say we should keep practicing.”

“Wait for real?”

“You’re no,t getting any younger, “ you giggle.

“Oh, you little minx, you’re in for it.” He runs back towards you, lifts you off the couch, and plops you in his lap.

“I’m sorry!” You laugh as Eddie tickles your sides.

“You really want to start trying?” He asks genuinely.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Guess it’s time for round two, gotta make sure it really sticks.”

Tags: @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesghxst @niallerlover8022 @eddiesguitarskills @all-dogs-die

@mimsie95 @mystargirl-interlude @rip-quizilla @munsonology @ali-r3n

@callsignraver @allthingsjoeq @ceriseheaven @amira0303 @mmunson86

@lofaewrites @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @lokis-army-77 @hellfiremunsonn

@hellfirenacht @oneforthemunny @lma1986 @mimsie95 @straykeeks

@crazycat-ladys-blog @starksbabie @hellfire--cult @goth-cowgirl-03 @dashingdeb16

@slayyymisha @xblueriddlex @kellsck @localemofreak @goodbyegh0st

@nope-thanks @nabiiturner @neurospicynugget @micheledawn1975 @mikromoon

@corrodedcoffincumslut @http-dilflvr @paybacksawitch

[ddejavvu]

For Hotch, would he send Jack with your group of ladies when buying your wedding dress so he could get details? He’s a traditionalist so he refuses to see it but he needs to know. However he forgot that his precious son may be the worst spy ever and fails to give Aaron any details about the dress you got.

"Okay, buddy." Aaron sits his son down across the kitchen table from him, his eyes stern and inquisitive as he regards the little boy, "What did Mommy's dress look like?"

"It was pretty," Jack informs him, though the information's not quite what Aaron is looking for, "I really liked it."

"That's nice. What did it look like, though? What else?"

"Um, it was white," Jack stalls, "And..."

"And?"

"And really pretty." He nods, "You're gonna like it, Daddy."

None of that is news to Aaron. He'd known you were looking for a white dress, and he'd also known that it would be pretty no matter the design, shape, or fit. Because you could pull off the couch cushion covers, and Aaron's sure the wedding dress is even more beautiful than those.

"Okay, it's pretty, and it's white. That's good. What shape was it?" Aaron pries, though his son's attention is already waning, "Did it go out at the bottom, or was it kind of tight around her legs?"

"Um," Jack thinks, brows furrowed, "I don't remember."

"You don't remember?" Aaron verifies after a beat of silence, and Jack shakes his head.

"She tried on bunches," He tells his dad, "Like, a whooole stack. And some of them goed out at the bottom, and some of them were tight."

"Went out," Aaron corrects his son's grammar sullenly, any hope of wedding dress intel that he'd had prior to this conversation snuffed out now, "Some of them went out at the bottom. Did any of them have lace?"

Jack tilts his head to the side. "What's lace?"

Aaron swallows, blinking twice at his son.

"Nevermind, buddy." He tries keeping his tone gentle, because it's really not his son's fault that he's seven and that his dad is insufferably nosy, "Just- go play, okay? Thanks for being my little spy."

Jack rushes off to his room without qualms, and when Aaron asks later why his lips are tinged red, he doesn't tell his dad that you'd bribed him with candy to play dumb about the dress you'd chosen.

[cuntressgoingdigital]

free palestine! click this link for more info + dono links

rich! abby who spoils you like her little princess. she has so much money and no one else to spend it on. so why not spend it on her beautiful girlfriend whom she loves more than anything in the world? 

you mention breaking the strap on your favorite pair of shoes? new designer pair on your doorstep the very next day. she catches you online shopping? fill up your cart and use her card. after a few years of dating you’re running out of closet space so she buys a whole new condo with a walk in closet just for you. 

you’re at a restaurant or bar, she doesn’t even let you look at the bill. and trust this girl is taking you to the most luxurious spots in town! 

need your hair and nails done? she’s venmoing you for the cost plus an extra hundred with a transaction note that says:

get yourself something to eat on me <3

she asks you to pick one place, anywhere in the world, that you want to vacation to. the moment you answer she’s already buying tickets and organizing an itinerary. 

it was the second night you were there, sitting in the bathroom putting the finishing touches on your hair and makeup when you notice abby was pacing around, clearly anxious. 

“you okay, baby?” 

she comes around behind you and wraps her arms around your waist. for a moment she just stares at your reflection in the mirror, completely in awe. 

“you’re so beautiful.” she softly kisses your cheek.

you couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. “so you’ve said at least a hundred times tonight.”

she was already dressed in her grey button up vest combo and slacks she had forgotten to get tailored before you two left. she felt stiff and stuffy in the outfit, but you had requested a fancy dinner and she intended to deliver. 

“fuck, okay i can’t take it anymore” she releases you from her grasp. “hold on, i got you a gift. stay here and close your eyes.” she practically runs off into the other room and you hear her shuffling through her bags. 

you raise an eyebrow, unsure of exactly where this was going, but oblige, nonetheless. “abby, can’t it wait until after dinner?”

"no!" she shouts back.

you couldn’t fathom what that girl had stowed away for you. she had peeked over your shoulder while you were looking for a new necklace earlier that week, so you could only assume that’s what it was. 

this was by far the most nervous abby had ever been in her life. every situation paled in comparison to this moment. 

“okay, turn around and open.” 

when your eyes flutter open, you see her awkwardly bent down on one knee. the sight wouldn’t have been so funny if it weren’t for the full suit with no shoes. 

for the rest of the trip, everywhere you went she couldn’t stop saying “me and my fiancée”.

when you eventually have the wedding ceremony she’s sparing no expense for her baby. want a destination wedding? you got it. custom designer gown? of course. live band, open bar, and a guest list of however many people you can think of. 

anything for her fiancée wife. 

just wanted to write something silly and fluffy! reqs are open :)

[baelarys]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞

Aemond targaryen X reader niece

word count : 2887

Warning : Incest , smut

Your entire body itched, feeling the corset squeeze your ribcage to the point of almost fainting. Your ladies hurriedly arranged your hair, while two others smoothed the blue and silver silk dress you had chosen for the ceremony.

You wondered if a wedding dress really needed to look so impeccable, feeling the weight of expectation and tradition. You were about to marry, and to your dismay, a man as callous as your uncle Aemond. You knew this moment would come, but still, the surprise hit you hard. You had been engaged since childhood, but you hadn't believed the proposal would still stand after the accident at your aunt's funeral.

Your mother and siblings would not attend. Your mother had recently given birth to your two new younger brothers, and Jace and Luke were still too young to travel alone. So, you found yourself alone in the Red Keep, the ancient castle you once considered home.

As you prepared, a feeling of loneliness enveloped you. The absence of your family weighed on your spirit, making the moment feel even more difficult to face.

Your ladies continued to work diligently, trying to make every detail perfect. Her skillful hands masterfully braided your hair, adorning it with fine silver threads. The blue and silver silk dress fell elegantly, reflecting the light of the candles that illuminated the room.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your mind and heart. Then, you heard a knock on the door. It was time, you thought. One of your ladies opened the door, letting in Queen Alicent, who would escort you to your future husband. You would have preferred it to be your grandfather instead of her, but dear King Viserys was in a deplorable situation regarding his health.

Alicent looked at you for a few seconds, perhaps remembering a similar moment from her own youth. “You look beautiful,” she said, trying to make you feel better.

You nodded gratefully, although the anxiety was still present. The queen offered you her arm and, with one last look in the mirror, you headed towards the destiny that awaited you. It was a small celebration, but without taking away from the prestige of a royal wedding. Lords from all over the kingdom were present.

The great hall was adorned with banners and flowers, the glow of the candelabras illuminating the faces of the guests. As you walked down the hallway, the murmurs faded, leaving only the echo of your footsteps and the rapid beat of your heart.

Aemond was waiting for you at the end of the hallway, his expression as impenetrable as ever. His violet eyes watched you with a mixture of intensity and coldness. Beside him, the septon waited, ready to officiate the ceremony. Alicent led you to your spot, and then discreetly retreated, letting the solemnity of the moment take over.

The septon began to recite the ritual words, and although your thoughts wandered between anxiety and resignation, you maintained your composure. Aemond took your hand firmly, his grip a reminder of both the strength and severity of your future husband.

When it was time to exchange vows, the words left your lips almost mechanically. You promised fidelity and loyalty, although inside you, a voice whispered doubts and fears. Aemond, for his part, pronounced his vows with the same determination he used on the battlefield.

It was time for the banquet, an event filled with flowers and music designed to liven up the festive atmosphere. You responded with a courteous smile to the lords and ladies who approached your table to shower you with gifts and congratulations.

The large banquet table was adorned with exquisite floral arrangements and silver candelabras, illuminating the opulence of the hall. You and Aemond presided over the head table, and although music and the hum of conversation filled the air, a feeling of unreality enveloped you.

Lord Tyrell's son approached the table, a charming young man who had caught the attention of many ladies at court. His distinguished bearing and easy smile made him a welcome guest at any social event.

You bowed slightly in respect as he approached, returning his smile with a courtesy befitting your status. "Princess," he began with an elegant bow, "allow me to congratulate you on your marriage. The beauty of this celebration is surpassed only by yours."

"Lord Tyrell," you replied with a smile, "I appreciate your kind words. The presence of your house is always an honor to our family."

"It's a pleasure to be here," he said, his eyes shining with an interest that went beyond mere politeness. "I must confess that I have been waiting for an opportunity to speak with you. Stories about your grace and charm do not do the reality justice."

You laughed softly, grateful for the distraction his gallantry offered. "I thank you, my lord. However, I do not believe I am worthy of such praise."

"Not at all, my lady, I am being completely honest." Your smile spread wider, feeling a light blush on your cheeks. The young Tyrell then looked at Aemond. "The prince is lucky to now have a lady as beautiful as you."

Before you could respond, you felt a strong squeeze on your thigh that made you stop. Aemond, who until then had watched the interaction with an impassive expression, clenched his jaw at Tyrell's words. "Lord Tyrell," he interrupted, his voice firm and cold, "I appreciate your congratulations, but I would like to remember that my wife is not a possession, but a companion worthy of respect."

The young Tyrell, without losing his composure, bowed his head slightly. "Of course, Prince Aemond. My apologies if my words have been misinterpreted. I only intended to express my admiration."

Aemond gave a brief, strained smile. "Your admiration is noted, but I would appreciate it if you expressed it with greater caution."

"I understand," the young Tyrell replied before returning to his table. Aemond hadn't taken his hand off your thigh since then, and you could feel his nails slowly digging into your skin.

"What is your problem?" you said with an annoyed tone, trying to remain discreet in the curious eyes of the court. You tried to push his hand away, but you felt him move it higher, sending a shiver through your body.

Aemond leaned his head towards you, whispering in your ear with a voice thick with possessiveness. "My problem, dear wife, is seeing other men thinking they can approach you so blatantly."

"It's just courtesy," you responded defensively, feeling Aemond's hand move up and down your thigh, brushing carelessly near that area. "And stop doing that."

Aemond, with an expression of apparent innocence, raised an eyebrow. "Do what?"

“That,” you replied, trying to stay calm as the chill continued to run through you. "Your hand is too close."

Finally, Aemond withdrew his hand with an expression of disdain. "Very well," he said with a tone that obscured the brightness of his gaze. "If this makes you uncomfortable, I will stop."

It was almost midnight, and the reality of the wedding night was beginning to weigh on you. It was mandatory that the marriage be consummated that same night, and although you knew that this moment was imminent, you couldn't help but feel a knot in your stomach.

Alicent, with her usual foresight, had advised you to retire to your room first to prepare. Following his recommendations, you headed to your chambers, where the ladies-in-waiting were waiting for you with the usual diligence. With speed and precision, they stripped away your dress, letting the intricate layers of silk and lace fall to the floor. Then, they let down your hair, which fell in loose waves around your figure. Finally, they wrapped you in a thin robe that covered your body, trying to offer you as much comfort as possible in that tense moment.

You walked over to the table to pour yourself some wine, hoping the drink would calm your nerves. As you raised the glass, the ruby liquid reflected the dim light of the candles, and you took a sip, feeling the warm relief it provided. As you savored the wine, you heard the door open. You froze, too embarrassed to turn around and look.

The sounds of Aemond removing his suit filled the room. The rustle of the fabric sliding over his body and the soft jingling of the clasps on his vest mixed with the rapid beat of your heart. You tried to focus on the wine, but your husband's presence behind you was impossible to ignore.

Aemond approached you, grabbing you by the waist and forcing you to turn around. You were now face to face, and you noticed that the patch he always wore to cover his eye was no longer there. In its place, a beautiful sapphire shined in the hole where he had lost his eye. His appearance was intimidating and fascinating at the same time.

He caressed your cheek with a gentleness so unlike him, his touch was surprisingly soft and comforting. "Fear not," he murmured, his voice low and reassuring.

Before you could respond, Aemond planted a kiss on your lips. A new feeling blossomed in your stomach, a whirlwind of nervousness and anticipation. Guiding your inexperienced lips, he led you to explore the rhythm and flavor of his own. Deftly, he gently bit your bottom lip, silently asking you to make way for him.

Your heart was pounding as you felt the caress of his tongue, exploring firmly but slowly. You responded timidly at first, but little by little, you began to reciprocate with more confidence. His hands, strong but tender, held you carefully, slowly tracing lines of fire on your skin.

They broke apart, You took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside you. Aemond slowly guided you towards the bed.

Aemond took a seat first, gently pulling you to sit on his lap. Your cheeks were adorned with a deep red color, a mix of shyness and anticipation. Wasting no time, he captured your lips again, this time with more urgency and desire.

He laid you down slowly, making you lie on your back on the mattress. His body hovered over yours, creating a feeling of warmth and security. His lips moved in a passionate dance with yours.

With fluid movements, Aemond began to leave a trail of kisses from your cheek to your neck. His lips lingered there, sucking gently and leaving little marks of love. The touch of his lips and teeth against your skin sent waves of pleasure through your body, and you couldn't help but let out small sounds of satisfaction.

Aemond carefully stripped you of the thin robe that still covered your body, taking a moment to admire your figure. His eyes roamed every line and curve, filled with a mix of wonder and desire. The intensity of his gaze made your cheeks blush even more, a warm current of anticipation running through your body.

With unexpected softness, he approached again, his lips tracing a path of wet, burning kisses from your neck to your collarbone. Each kiss was a point of fire that lit your skin, creating a path of pleasure that spread with each caress.

His hands, strong and sure, explored your body with an expert touch, discovering your every reaction. "You're beautiful," he murmured against your skin, his voice husky and heavy with desire. "Every part of you."

Suddenly, Aemond cupped one of your breasts in his hand, squeezing it with a firmness that drew a small gasp from you. He played with your sensitive nipple, his skillful fingers causing waves of pleasure that made you arch your back.

Without warning, he lowered his head and devoured the other breast with his mouth, sucking and nibbling with overwhelming passion. You felt like you were in heaven, each touch and kiss lifting you to new heights of pleasure. You thrashed around on the bed, your hands gripping the sheets as you tried to take in the intensity of the sensations.

He continued his attention, alternating between his hands and his mouth, making sure every part of you received his devotion. His lips moved with precision, tracing circles around your nipple before sucking it hard. At the same time, his other hand massaged your other breast, his fingers causing spasms of pleasure with each touch.

Aemond continued his descent, his lips leaving a trail of burning kisses along your stomach and belly. He stopped for a moment, admiring your intimacy already wet from his previous caresses. The vulnerability of the moment made you try to close your legs, a gesture of modesty that Aemond gently prevented.

“Let me show you how much I want you,” he murmured hoarsely, his words sending a new wave of pleasure through your body.

You nodded, feeling the heat inside you intensify. Aemond settled between your legs, his solid, confident presence providing you with a strange mix of calm. With slow deliberation, he left a long lick over your lower lips, eliciting an involuntary moan from your lips.

His hands rested on your thighs, holding them open while his lips and tongue continued to explore your intimacy with a skill and attention that left you breathless. Every caress, every lick, seemed designed to take you to new heights of pleasure. You felt the tension inside you growing, a delicious pressure that threatened to overflow at any moment.

He didn't stop, his tongue moving with a precision that made you arch your back and clutch the sheets. His fingers joined the dance, exploring and teasing, taking you beyond your limits. The mix of his mouth and hands was almost too much, every movement a promise of ecstasy.

Aemond introduced another finger inside you, eliciting a deeper, pleasure-laden moan from you. His movements were slow and deliberate, moving in and out with a precision that seemed designed to explore every corner of your being. The sensation was overwhelming, each thrust of his fingers sending waves of heat through your body.

Your moans intensified, and your body instinctively responded to his attentions, arching into him in a desperate search for more contact. Aemond increased the speed of his movements, his fingers delving deeper, exploring and teasing with a skill that left you breathless.

Aemond withdrew his fingers suddenly, drawing a moan of protest from you at the abrupt absence of his touch. He leaned over you, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss as he expertly removed his pants. You felt the warmth and firmness of his erection brush against your entrance, eliciting an involuntary moan of anticipation.

Aemond eased into you slowly, his erection pushing through with deliberate precision. A burning sensation washed over you, and you tensed at the invasion, but he stayed still for a moment, allowing you to get used to the new sensation. You breathed deeply, trying to relax as your body adjusted to his presence inside you.

After a few moments, he began to move with slow, measured thrusts. Every movement was calculated, designed to maximize pleasure while minimizing pain. The intensity of the sensation increased with each thrust, and soon, the initial burning transformed into a wave of pleasure that ran through you from head to toe.

Your moans joined his, a chorus of sounds that filled the room. Your throbbing insides clenched around him, each contraction eliciting moans of pleasure from both of you. Aemond gradually increased the pace, his thrusts becoming faster and deeper.

You felt the tension inside you grow, a delicious pressure that built with each movement. Your moans became louder, and your body arched towards him, seeking more contact, more intensity. A knot was forming in your belly, a buildup of pleasure that grew with each thrust. Finally, Aemond reached a specific spot inside you, causing you to come immediately.

Your muscles clenched and you overflowed, the overwhelming pleasure enveloping your body. Aemond continued to move inside you, his own moans of pleasure echoing through the room. A few seconds later, he reached his own climax, spilling his seed inside you.

Both were left breathing heavily, their bodies intertwined as the intensity of the moment began to dissipate. Carefully, Aemond eased himself out of you and settled next to you, wrapping his arms around you in a protective gesture.

You laid your head on his chest, feeling how tiredness gradually invaded you. Aemond covered you both with a soft blanket, his large hands running over your back in a calming and protective gesture. The warmth of his body and the constant rhythm of his breathing provided a feeling of security that enveloped you completely.

"Rest, my love," he said softly, his voice filled with an unexpected tenderness. You let sleep guide you, your heavy eyelids closing as you snuggled closer to him. In the tranquility of that moment, with the sound of his heart beating beneath your ear, you fell into a deep, restful sleep.

[auragasmics]

WRITHING HEARTS!

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° synopsis! it's marriage for business, pitting you as the engaged bride to one Gojo Satoru, known as a shameless playboy. but when your heart yearns to be with Geto Suguru, the lover behind closed doors, you'll do anything to wind up in his arms!

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° pairings! fem!reader x Geto Suguru

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂  ₒ𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° cw! 4.1k words, arranged marriage au, features Gojo Satoru, mentions of death/suicide, implied infidelity, oral ( m -> f) , missionary, cowgirl, cremepie, Gojo catches you in the act

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° xoxo, chris! sigh, i love this fic </3

A wedding they said, one that would unite the two competing companies into a mass monopoly to control the economic world. You being the poise daughter you were, accepted your parents’ request, relinquishing your chance at finding a pure and true love. It came with not even a bit of resistance, considering that you loved no man except your father.

You even knew the man you’d be wed to within the coming year, one that goes by the name of Gojo Satoru. He was a kind fellow with such charm that any woman could fall for him at the mere wink of his icy blue hues. 

In fact, that’s exactly what he did. What troubled you about the sudden marriage to Gojo was that his reputation was known as a playboy, using women for sexual gratification. It utterly disgusted you, knowing that someone as smug as he would be due to be your groom caused unrest within you. 

When the news had broken on national television, all seemed to be shocked, hailing you as the holy one. You were seen as the one who put an end to Gojo’s promiscuous ways, the photos of you both taking leisure lunches resurfacing from media blogs everywhere. However, that was only a small percent of the truth, something only you kept to yourself.

Those lunches were designed to shield from the public, staging it that you and Goji were such a happy couple. In truth, Gojo’s ways hadn’t changed, only keeping his personal affairs. In the very house purchased for the soon-to-be united by both his and your parents, he brought his mistresses and quick flings to your abode, a separate room reserved for his affairs. 

Even after numerous complaints and teary-eyed woes to your parents, they could not budge. They hated watching as their sweet daughter wailed in agony, sorrow dressing her words in these past few months since announcing the entire ordeal. 

In the darkest hours, that’s when your path just happened to cross with one man in particular, Geto Suguru. Geto was a man of former stature, his family losing their wealth due to extortion charges.

He was left with a small fortune before both his mother and father committed the act of suicide a few days before their prison sentence. From the age of fourteen, Geto was forced to endure the stains left behind by his parents.

He’s been shunned from the corporate world, only being invited to gatherings to dwell in the shadows of those who boasted of their success.

Geto would only linger for a bit before disappearing from sight. He was the biggest mystery, one that had your infatuation written all over it. You were unconsciously embedded in him, the wish to free him from his harrowing loneliness ate at you night and day. It had reached a point where you longer cared for your parents’ wishes, finally placing your desires before their own selfish needs. 

You needed to seek out Geto, for you own sake and at a chance of finally receiving peace of mind. As for how you both met, it was one of sheer coincidence, the both of you entering the lobby of a building your father owned in the city. You were well aware of who he was, his towering physique jutting from the crowd. You couldn’t help but be drawn to him, the rumors and mysteries shroud his name, but not a single person seeking out the answers they desire.

With every step you took towards him, an unsettling coil formed in your belly. Could it have been from the nervous strike attacking your body all of a sudden, or the words from your adolescence that reply at the forefront of your thoughts. A warning from your parents, advising you to stay away from that man, claiming that nothing good ever occurred when involved with him. 

You were refined to believe such an idea, judging the poor man without any pre existing context. You sought to learn the truth of Geto Surguru, especially at the risk of defying your parents. 

Once you had initiated the first words, a bright light was casted onto the darkness that covered Geto’s heart. He clung to you, deeming every intimate moment as rare as the jewels found in caverns. The man became intoxicated with your every fiber, and eventually led to your touch. You both knew it was wrong, but the vines of the budding rose to your romance was something that not even the false engagement to withstand. 

Yet, like the rose, it’s thorn will always come back to prick the one who gave it life, a lesson you would soon learn all too soon. 

“Gojo, could you not flirt while we’re together? It won’t look good for the tabloids,” you suggest, whispering the words of warning along the shell of his ear. He merely shrugs his shoulders, “It’s our engagement party, it’s not my fault there are so many lovely ladies here tonight!” 

You roll your eyes, the veins lining underneath your eye twitching with gall. You had hoped that Gojo would put aside his reprobate methods, even if just for the night.

However, the way he dressed tonight alone told a different story.

He wore a glaucous white silk dress shirt, his chest revealed to the wandering eyes of women who hoped to one day take your place beside him. The black trousers upon his body were tighter than usual, the bulge of his length just teasing the onlookers. His hair was styled neatly, hanging just past his ears with not a strand of the frosted locks out of place. 

Gojo wore a sneering smile, his best accessory by far. You knew that if you even left his side for a second, he’d be out of the room with a woman linked to each arm. Then again, you had nothing tying you to him, the urge to seek out your one true lover hanging above your head similar to the glass chandeliers adorning the ceilings. 

You wore a slim black dress, the neckline ending just below the curve of your ribs. It clung to your figure perfectly, drawing every eye to you. It was a piece that Geto found the most pleasing for the event, his assistance proving itself through all the praise.

Yet, you wished to be with him for the evening, not the snobbish man doomed to marry you within the coming days. It has been almost a year since your engagement to Gojo, but almost a year since meeting Geto. 

“Listen Y/N, you and I aren’t actually married, daring, hell, we can barely tolerate each other. You see, in the public, I’m your loyal husband, changed from his old ways. Yet, in private, I haven’t changed not one bit. I don’t plan to either, I love the way I am. I suggest that you find something that makes you happy too, sweetheart. It’s the only way you’ll survive in this life.” 

You whipped your head away from Gojo, the pestering tone of his suave voice pinched your nerves. Though it was as if the brash message was on demand, the sight of a familiar figure caught your eye, there stood Geto against the door, wearing a black turtleneck with navy blue slacks and a floral patterned suit jacket.

You felt your heart nearly skip a beat, the look of bliss etching onto Geto’s face as he spotted you. You practically ached to join him, your body desperate for the warmth only he could offer. 

Gojo seemed to be interested in socializing, his arm tugging away from the link you both formed an hour prior. He sensed the same urge to leave, to pick his new victim amongst the other beauties. It was only right if you freed him, right?

“Gojo,” you called, “I’ll go get some wine. See you at home later.” 

That was all he needed, ripping away from you to dive headfirst into the bundling crowd. You spun around to face Geto, only to find that he had left his position against the wall. 

A huff seeped from your lips, realizing that it would be near impossible to find a man who wouldn’t allow himself to be found. Gratefully for you, he was already closer than you had expected, just waiting to take you away into his world. 

“Don’t you look absolutely stunning?” A voice hummed, the palm of a large hand slipping along the curve of your shoulder. Just from the subtle peck laid against your skin, you knew who had finally gained their hold of you.

“You know better than to act so boldly like this in public, Geto. I’ll get in so much trouble,” you teased, but you’ve already decided to forego the thought of consequences once the dreamy scent of his cologne flooded your nose.  

“Why, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I want the world to know your mine, not that asshole’s.”

Geto slides the pads of his digits down your arm, your skin heating up at his languid touch. You spin around face him properly, a grin gracing both your faces. The urge to kiss Geto ran high, the tension between you both was something that couldn’t be ignored. 

“Can we leave this place? I hate loud parties like these,” you sighed, urging your face near his own.  

“But, it’s your engagement party,” Geto began, “It’d suck to have the bride be missing. Even worse to find her with a man other than her betrothed.”

A shallow pout poked out from your lips, the gloss reflecting the lights from above. “But, I want you, and only you, Geto. Can’t we make that happen?”

From his pocket, Geto pulled out a room key, the silver ridges twinkling before your widening eyes. “It’s the closest we’ll get to having our own space but...it’s better than nothing.”

Without another word, you and Geto took hold of each other’s hand, slipping from the masses and into the darkened hallway of the hotel. You peppered kisses all over his cheeks, the anticipation bubbling within your body. 

In that time that you’ve gotten to know him, Geto was far from all the names and warnings everyone was always so quick to spew. He was kind, gentle with his words and manners. You’ve come to realize that he would never harm a fly, nonetheless, does he live up to a quarter of the rumors surrounding him.

In other words, Geto was the one who had your heart. The marriage would only prove more difficult for the little arrangement you both had. Eventually, the relationship would have to be brought to light, regardless of your attempt to keep it hidden. 

“Are we in the clear?” He whispered, aligning the key with the slot. You nodded, checking the surrounding area for any onlookers for the last time. He pushes the door from its frame, pulling you and himself into the room.

With a slamming shut, you found yourself pinned against the shiny white paint, Geto decorating the pulse of your neck with pecks and bites. Your fingers found way to his hair, the thick ravenous locks latching around your dainty digits, encouraging Geto to proceed with his display of affection.

“I see you’re wearing that dress I like, almost like you wanted to get my attention,” he ventured, pulling away from the freshly laid trail of bites. You bit your bottom lip, the blood rushing to greet each ministration on your skin. It was all too overwhelming, but you fell prey to the amorous aura surrounding Geto, the searing ache amidst your legs leading your every move.

“I have no clue as to what you mean, I just really like the color black against my skin,” you purred, peering up at the impassioned man through your darkened lashes. Geto snaked a hand behind you, his fingers toying with the zipper lining the curve of your spine. With his lips brushing along the shell of your ear, he whispered the teasing words to spur you on.

“If you don’t mind, I happen to love what’s underneath the dress all the more.”

You surround the nape of his neck with your arms, leading Geto into the kiss just waiting on your lips, nodding frantically at his request. Without breaking the kiss, Geto stripped you bare of the silky material, leaving the matching hunter-green bra and thong set to don your body. 

“Aw, no fair. I didn’t wear anything you’d like,” Geto frowned, drawing away from your lips for a moment.

 You trailed your fingers down to the heavy belt buckle at the forefront of his hips, a sly grin creeping onto your lips. “Y’know how much I love those tattoos of yours, that’s all I need.”

Geto chuckled at your words, the pair of you working in tandem until he stood with only his briefs. He took a firm hold around your waist, lifting you from the cold floor. “I missed this, I’ve missed you,” he groaned, his teeth pinching at the supple skin of your breasts. You giggled in response, “It’s only been a few days, I don’t see how you miss me so much.”

Geto placed you onto the bed, the white sheets contorting around you as he planted his hands on either side of your head. “When you’ve been as alone as I have, you’d understand. In all of my twenty-four years, I’ve never been so happy,” he gushed into the crook of your neck. You giggled in response, “I can say the same, I’m so glad to call you mine.” Geto pried away, placing himself above you once again. 

“See, you love me and I sure as hell love you, I’m tired of hiding it. I mean, why can’t everyone know that I’m so much better than that Gojo. Do I have to demonstrate that to confirm my case,” he groaned tirelessly. 

You shook your head, “No, but I have a feeling you’re about to prove it to me.” 

“Damn right I will,” Geto boasted as he sank down to his knees, his face filling the spacer between your legs. He glared up at you, laying a trail of kisses along the plush of your inner thigh.

“I’ll prove it to you and I’ll do it well,” he quipped, the animalistic tone intertwined with each word. He hooked onto the sides of your panties, sliding the soaked cloth down your legs and away from sight. The calloused palm of Geto’s hand pressed into your stomach, pinning you down to the bed without choice. 

“Stay there for me, won’t you? I just wanna make this pretty pussy of mine happy,” Geto quipped, his lips placing a soft kiss onto the folds of your puffy cunt. You nod in agreement, all tension melting away from his touch. 

With the pad of his thumb, geto parted the lips of your cunt, the viscid mess of slick glimmering in his eyes. He was quick to attach his mouth to you, the flat of his tongue collecting every drop hungrily. 

A sharp gasp flooded your lungs, your back arching beneath him. There was something in Geto that seemed to have your body just fold at his command. In everything he did, he approached it with benign care. He knew every curve, nerve, and crevice of your body, each arc of your curling silhouette accepting him willingly. 

The earthy brown hues of Geto’s eyes were no longer in view, looking back to his head as he continued to immerse himself in your flavor. He rolled docile circles into your clit, a hum of praise vibrating from his throat. 

“Holy—don’t stop, Geto,” you mewed, biting back the moans that sought to fill the walls of the room. 

You sensed a nod of compliance from him, Geto suckling the pearl between his swollen lips. The heavy pool of nerves churning at the pit of your stomach surfaced, limbs stiffening at once. Your vision grew burry, the patches of white light piercing through.

His hands latched onto your wrist, guiding your own hands into the thick strands of his hair. Geto loved whenever you raked through his locks, tugging at the roots whenever the pleasure pooled over the limits you could handle. 

You began to tremble, your legs seeking something to grasp. Geto took notice, the robust strength of his arms clasping the underside of your thigh, He led your legs to drip across onto his broad shoulders, your thighs nuzzling Geto deeper towards you. A rush of thrill sped through his veins, Geto watching his efforts pay off with such pride. 

A harsh arch carved itself into your spine, your walls coming to a steel grip of nothingness as you release the woes of the day all onto Geto’s awaiting tongue. A groan emitted from his throat, the whites of his eyes reverting to the forefront of his visage.  

“Fuck, give it all to me,” he moaned, desperately dragging his tongue across your spasming clit. You rocked your hips against Geto’s slicked muscle, riding out the fleeting moments of your high. Your head tossed back with a final cry, Geto’s name singing from your lips.

He could only chuckle at your state, the pride brewing in his heaving chest. “See, I know Gojo can’t do that, even if he tried,” he jeered, pulling away from you. Geto stood from the ground, a visible spot of precum soaking through his briefs. You reached out to tug at the elastic waistband but Geto tacked your hand down on your stomach, hovering above you.

“Just spread those legs for me, and I’ll take even better care of you,” he hummed, sliding the tips of his fingers to squeeze at the underside of your thigh. You found yourself in the center of the bed, legs pressed into your chest. Geto was swift to strip from his briefs, standing before with eight inches to fill you with, his cock so heavy with the need for relief that it stood upright with no aid, the plushy pink crown of his length just riddled with thick streams of precum drooling from the slit. 

Geto held the base of his dick, gently nudging at your entrance. He studied at how the whole mass of his tip slid inside you, an enticing gasp following suit. 

“Don’t look at anything but me,” he hissed, Geto’s cheeks stricken with heat. He relished in the way you squeezed around him, your walks never fully being able to contort to his size. He would always give you a few minutes filled with kisses and words of encouragement until you adjusted around him, Geto giving you the slowest of thrusts to begin.

 “You’re doing so good, baby, just a little bit more,” he comforted, Geto’s hips driving a bit deeper. You rested your hands atop his broad shoulders, sliding down the expanse of his chest, admiring the way the sleeves of Geto’s tattoos complemented his body’s physique.

With such a strong build of muscles shaping his arms and the cuts of his hardened abdomen, even the patterns of ink that adorned his being were enough to make anyone squirm at a glance.

You were just lucky that person was you.

You eventually found your way to his waist, his hips rutting into you effortlessly. You pulled Geto into you, trapping him in with your legs around his waist. He took in a heavy intake of air, the hull of his chest expanding in compensation. 

“That’s new, something you wanna tell me?” He whispered teasingly. You bit back the onslaught of moans, the want to form an actual sentence gaining the upper hand. 

“Just want y-you closer,” you whined, the girth of Geto’s cock dragging against your walls at a sluggish pace. He stood still for a moment, staring down at you. 

“I’m not going anywhere, promise,” he cooed, pressing a kiss onto your perspired forehead. Geto slid his arm underneath your back, closing the gap between you both. He drew himself from your heat, a spew of curses leaving from his parted mouth. You had no clue as to what Geto had in mind but you knew he was far from done.

“I’ve been dying to have you ride me again, it’s practically all I think about these days,” Geto cooed as he crawled to the top of the bed, his back flush against the wooden headboard. 

You followed behind him, your arms encircling his neck. “Have you now? Is that all you think about?” You grinned, allowing for your legs to plant themselves on either side of Geto. 

“Of course not, but I love it when you do,” he beamed, his hands settling upon the curve of your ass. He kneaded the soft flesh in the palm of your hands, your body jolting in response. 

“Shh, save those chills for when you finally cum, it's a sight that I get to savor all to myself.” 

Geto snaked a hand between your bodies to brace his twitching cock towards crooned as he your entrance. You slid down his shaft with ease, your walls encasing his length snuggly. You lifted your hips, earning a seething hiss from Geto, the pressure already rendering him weak. 

“Why I barely did anything, don’t tell me you’re close already,” you taunted, carding through his locks that dared to cover an ounce of Geto’s lewd look of pleasure.

“Hell no, I just get a little excited, you know that.” 

You swiveled your hips against him, taking Geto in deeper until you felt satisfied to ruin the man beneath you. You couldn’t ignore the knot in your stomach, growing tighter with every rise and fall of your hips onto the unalloyed mass of Geto’s thighs. I

t was hard work to bring that prickling rush of ecstasy among Geto, but it was worth it all, the way he’d become drunk off you. His speech, his thoughts, and even the way he’d latch onto your ass to fondle at the mound of flesh all belonged to you, something that brought you more pride than your own family name.

Heavy pants of need leave from Geto’s strained throat, louder than the pornographic rings of skin crashing against another. You painted kisses and nips onto the velvety skin of his chest all the way up to his lips. 

Geto was sensitive, to say the least, between the deepening strides of your hips, the plush of your lips dancing against his own, and your pretty voice singing his name at the top of your lungs were all the ingredients for a disaster in the making. 

“Princess, how do you think Gojo would react if he found out that a degenerate like me fucked a beautiful little baby into his fiance?” Geto pondered between weak bucks into you, trying to gain back some type of control. 

You struggled for a moment, gathering the words around the mushed thoughts of your mind. “H-He wouldn’t care,” you mewled, using the fleeting bits of your energy to clamp down around Geto. 

“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear,” he moaned, tossing his head back as he came undone, the thick ropes of cum flooding your womb. You released a squeal of glee at the feeling, the sensation being one for the books. 

As you both came down from the high, Geto pulled you into his chest, the expanse of his pecs rising and falling at a staggering pace. “Fuck, you’re so good to me, Y/N.” Geto huffed, nuzzling a kiss onto your parted lips. You remained perched on his lap, back arching into his smothering hold. 

“I love you so much, Geto,” you whimpered, rocking along the thick length still plunged inside you.

“I love you beyond words. I hope that one day soon I’ll be able to m–” he began, only to find his impending sentence being interrupted. 

The sounds of voices rang from behind the door, the clicks of locks echoing around the room. You and Geto had no time to react, only facing who could possibly disrupt the intimate moment. 

“…and I said, "No, who the hell wants chiffon mixing with spandex?" designers are so stupid these days–Oh my! What have we here?!” The voice barreled out, the steps coming to a sudden halt. You shifted around on Geto’s lap, facing the onlooker head-on. 

“Hello…Gojo…” you grinned, staring back at the man, who just happened to have two women strung along with him. You couldn’t find it in you to feel even the slightest bit embarrassed if anything…it felt good to watch Gojo have the dumbest shock displayed on his face.

Geto didn’t budge either, his lips clinging to the corners of your malicious smile. “There seemed to have been a room mix-up…I’ll be on my way then,” he croaked, Gojo’s eyes still pinned on the scene before him.

You and Geto exchanged a quick glance, one filled with disinterest. It also seemed as if Gojo was hurt, hurt to find that his sweet soon-to-be wife had a filthy secret of her own. What a beautiful concept double standard can be, something that can be forgotten once it is done to the doer. 

You turned to Gojo, looking him dead on with an expression of apathy.

“You do that then.”

[latenightdaydreams]

Can you write about Konig and stepmother! Reader. When he came back to visit his father in his hometown after years of deployment and he saw stepmother!reader who is young and curvy with large breasts and then...they fuck=))) Not forcing, love your writing btw

This is such a hot idea 😮‍💨I had so many ideas so I just had to pick one and write! Thank you for the support and I hope you enjoy the story! Have a great day♥️

König x Stepmother!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

Part2 Part3 Part4

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>cw: fem/ afab reader, step mom, p in v, age gaps, mentions of breeding

2.6k word count

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König sat on his bed in his quarters and yanked his mask off of his face as his hands grasped a wedding invitation for his father’s 4th wedding. König looked at the elegant font and design before rolling his eyes and tossing the invite into the trash. After his father walked out on his mother, he has had no interest to keep up with him. It’s pathetic how a 73-year-old man keeps bouncing from wife to wife. König wouldn’t give this marriage a year. Yet, it was still his father and he made sure to try and make it to his city once he went back home to visit.

Still dressed in his full military uniform he finds himself standing outside of his father’s door. He takes a deep breath as he gets ready to see his dad again and meet whoever was stupid enough to marry the man. His hands go under his mask to adjust it slightly. Deciding to get it over with, he raises his hand and knocks on the door.

The door opens and he expects to see his 6’4 slender and frail old man of a father, but instead he sees you, his new step mom. You open the door with such warmth and radiance it’s as if the sun light behind you was coming from you. He stood there with a blank stare for a moment, trying to process the site before him. His eyes traveling down your frame to see the way your breasts are barely contained within you summer dress, you don’t look a day over 30, even young for König’s 46-year-old self. He swallows hard, no way this is his step mom.

“König?” Your voice smooth like silk with an accent sends a shiver down his spine.

“Ja, and you’re…”

“Y/N,” your hand is so small and delicate within his own as he grabs yours to shake. He tries to control his gaze as they step into the house.

“Your father is just over here,” you say walking ahead of König as you both make your way to the living room. König’s eyes glued to your ass jiggling and the way your hips sway with every step. His mind jumping through hoops trying to understand how his dad could have possibly landed someone as fucking hot as you.

Walking up to his father König holds a hand out for him to shake, his eyes piercing down at the old man with a look of distain.

“Hallo, how have you been old man?” König asks as he sits, his eyes trailing back to his new step mom as she sits on the arm rest next to his dad.

“Great son, have you met my old ball ‘n chain?” Felix hand creeping around your waist.

König suppresses the eyeroll he feels at his dads comment about his new wife. His new soft, big breasted wife.

“I have, she’s lovely.” His piercing pale blue eyes meet your gaze as he says these words. His dad too oblivious to notice the lustful gaze his son was giving his new wife.

A small blush forms on your cheeks as König calls you lovely. You smirk and look over his body. He is massive. A younger, bigger version of Felix. You wonder if everything is bigger.

“Well, I’m happy I finally get to meet you. Felix has told me so much about you.”

“Has he now?” König asks while looking at his father, Felix’s eyes glued to watching the TV.

“Can I get you something to drink König? I’m sure you’re wore out from all of the traveling.” You stand to your feet and smooth out your dress as you wait for his reply.

König’s throat was dry and he most definitely could use something to drink, but he didn’t want water, he wanted you to squirt in his mouth. He shakes his head to snap out of the thought.

“Uh, yes please.” König stands and walks past his father following you into the kitchen. His dad too out of it to even keep interest in a conversation with him, he wonders how you do it.

You walk into the kitchen and tiptoe to get a glass for König when you feel a large hand on your side, making you shiver.

“Here, let me help.” König says casually as if his heart isn’t beating out of his chest from the sensation of touching your waist. His hand resting on the curve of your perfect hour glass shape as his mind begins to wonder how sexually fulfilled you actually are with his father. He quickly pushes the thought aside as he hands you a glass.

“Thank you, König.” You grab the glass from his eyes all the while gazing deeply into his blue eyes. Snapping out of it you turn and go to the fridge as you begin to fill the glass with water. “So, your dad tells me you’re a Colonel?”

“I am,” König eyes you intently wondering why you’re actually here with his dad, you could be with anyone. “How long have you been with my father?” He takes the cup of water from you, your fingers grazing his making him feel a spark.

“A little over four years now.” You reply leaning against the counter in the kitchen.

König’s eyes land on your breasts again before he looks down at his glass and takes a long drink. He couldn’t think of any appropriate questions to ask you. From are your breasts real to can his dad even please you are the only ones bouncing around in his brain.

Just then his dad walks in and pats König on the back, making him jump. König watches as his dad walks past him to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and kissing your soft lips. A heat of jealousy rushes over him as he drops his gaze and drinks more water.

“Is dinner almost ready?” Felix asks as his hand remains on your ass.

“It is, I was just getting König a drink.”

“Alright, let’s get eating, I’m tired.” Felix complained as he made his way to the table. König thankful his face is hidden or hid dad would have seen his disgust.

“I’ll help set the table,” König walked to the cabinet you had opened and reached over you to grab three plates.

“Oh, thank you.” He was close and all you could think about was his cologne mixed with his natural musk, finding it enticing.

You set the table with König’s help and sat down to eat. It was painfully awkward. You could tell the strained relationship between father and son was hopeless. Felix has no interest in talking to his son and his son has no interest in forgiving his dad. König’s eyes kept following you the whole time. Watching how your lips wrapped around your fork as you took a bit, the way your breasts rest on the table due to their size. He can’t get enough of you.

.

.

Hours pass and König is in the room you set up for him and looking around. He pulls his mask off and begins to undress. He can’t stop thinking of you.  As he drops his pants, his erection is more obvious. He runs his palm over it through the fabric of his boxer briefs.

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself as he walks to the bed and gets under the covers. Looking up at the ceiling he begins to think of you as he slowly began to stroke his cock. Thinking of the way your breasts jiggle with the slightest of movement. He closes his eye and begins to pump his fist over his cock, imagining you riding him and how your breasts would look bouncing. Thinking you and Felix are asleep, he lets out soft moans.

You walk upstairs from getting a late night snack and you can hear soft little moans coming from down the hall, you know its König. Looking ahead at your bedroom door, then over to König’s, you decide to make your way to his room.

Standing outside the door you can clearly hear his hand moving over his cock, soft wet sounds mixed with the blankets rustling. You can hear him moan out your name every few seconds. Taking a deep breath, you open the door.

König stops and his eyes go wide as he sees you. A mix of surprise and embarrassment written on his face as he gulps. His eyes travel down your body and notice the silky light pink night gown you’re wearing. The dress clings perfectly to your body, you look like a goddess.

“Y/N…” König says your name with lust and panic in his tone.

“König…” You close the door behind you. Your eyes travel to the part of the blanket that was poking up from his erection.

König froze in place as you slowly started to walk to him. You sit on the bed beside him as you reach out and grasp his erection over the blanket. König lets out a shaky breath feeling your small hand grasp his fat cock.

“Oh Scheiße.” He moaned softly as you squeezed the head of his cock.

“Would you like some help?” You slowly stroke down his cock and watch as his jaw drops.

König begins to nod his head quickly, “Please,” his eyes look into yours almost begging you.

You pull the blanket back to see his boxer briefs pulled down his thighs and his cock out, the foreskin hugging his bright pink tip that’s leaking pre cum. His cock is simply massive. You grab his cock, skin on skin now, your fingers don’t even meet when wrapped around him. König’s breathing quickly at this point watching with anticipation.

You begin to stroke his cock faster pulling quiet moans from König’s lips. You look up at his maskless face and study it, watching the way his face contorts with pleasure; he looks exactly like his dad, but younger.

Without thinking König reached a hand out and cupped one of your breasts over the nightgown. He squeezed gently as he moved his eyes from your hand wrapped around him to his hand on you. Your breast so big and full they spill over his large hands. He has never been blessed to touch such beautiful breasts before. His hand pulls down your night gown to expose your bare breast to him.

Your nipples hard as he reaches out and tugs on one. “Mein Gott, you are so perfect.” He whispers almost as if he didn’t mean to say the words out loud.

He sits up more to lean forward, his lips finding yours and bringing you into a passionate kiss, his tongue finding yours as you softly begin to suck on his. He lets out a soft groaning sound at the thought of you sucking his cock instead. His hand still playing with your nipple as the other holds your waist tightly. Precum leaking on to your hand as he slowly breaks the kiss.

“I’ve been thinking about fucking you since the minute I laid my eyes on you.” He growls as he begins to kiss down your neck, biting lightly to not leave marks behind.

He hears you let out the softest little moan and it sends his brain into over drive as he pushes you back on the bed. His mouth hungrily kissed down your neck to your breast as he pulls his underwear all the way off. His mouth latched to your nipple and sucking at it desperately as you moan out running your fingers through his hair. König had been thinking about what this moment with you might be like, and now here he was; ready to show you another reason why he’s better than his dad.

You watch as König slaps his heavy cock onto your wet pussy, it’s been ages since you’ve been fucked- like really fucked. Your legs twitch as his cock rubs over your sensitive clit and it makes him smirk.

“Fuck me already,” you demand pathetically and König chuckles in response.

“Horny little house wife, aren’t you?” He teases as he slips his cock into your tight wet cunt. Instantly your velvety walls began to flutter around his size desperately trying to accommodate him.  You let out a quiet moan as your eyes close, face twisting in pleasure. His cock filling you up to the point of pain, but fuck it felt good. His hands grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs. His cock pressing in until he hits your mushy cervix, your pussy not even able to fit all of him.  

“You like that, huh?” König asks feeling a bit arrogant.

His pins your legs back and begins to just pound into your creamy cunt, his mouth finding your breast as he begins to kiss and bite all over them, no longer worrying about leaving marks on you. He wanted you for his own self. His balls slapping hard against your ass as they tighten from excitement.

Not only did your gummy cunt feel like heaven, the whole taboo situation of you being his step mom was adding to the experience. The thought of filling you with his cum and possibly getting you pregnant making his mind go crazy with excitement.

“Please fuck me!” Your fingers drag across König’s broad back and scratch deeply, leaving bright red marks across his pale skin. Yours legs tremble as they squeeze his side.

“König- I’m so close.”

“Cum for me, cum for me like the needy little step mom you are.” His hand moves to your pussy as his thumb begins to rub to your clit. You melt into nothing as you begin to moan loudly, your body tensing as you feel the rush of euphoria takes over your body.

“Shhh, you’re going to wake the old man up. You really want your husband to see you getting fucked by his son?” He smirks as you cum on his cock. He can feel how wet you get as you squeeze his cock. In this moment Felix isn’t even a thought, all you can think about is König’s cock fucking you.

König grabs a pillow and puts it down beside you before quickly pulling out. He easily manhandles you and flips you over, using the pillow to help lift your ass up. He got behind you, one hand gripping your hip and the other holding his cock that is covered in your creamy thick white cum. Pushing his leaky cock into you slowly he lets out a low sigh. His hands wrap around your ass and squeeze, pulling your cheeks apart as his thumb rubs over your tight asshole.  He doesn’t know how much longer he can keep going, his muscles becoming tense as his balls begin to tingle and tighten. Your cunt keeping a tight grip on his cock.

Königs head dropped back and his Adams apple bobbing in his throat as he lets out tiny whimpers of pleasure. Without warning, König cums deep inside of your pussy, feeling his cock throbbing inside you.

He pulled out with heavy breath before laying beside you on the bed. You both looked at each other smiling.

.

.

The next morning König goes down stairs to see you wearing black leggings and a simple t-shirt. You were standing in front of the stove making breakfast for everyone. His eyes meet yours and you both smirk at each other.

He sits next to his father at the table exuding a cocky aura. He just fucked his dad’s wife after all. König keeps his eyes on your breast as you walk back and forth, remembering how they looked bouncing as he pounded into you last night.

You don’t know it, but König is already planning a life with you, away from his father. He feels no guilt or remorse, if anything this is just karma for Felix. You abandon his mom; he steals your woman. Fair is fair.

Part2 Part 3 Part 4

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (VIII)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 3,115

CW: MDI 18+, SMUT, p in v, loss of virginity, oral (f and m receving), fingering, possesivness, corruption kink, praise kink (use of good girl) toxic relationship, manipulation, mommy issues, co-dependancy issues, not proofread!

Fem!oc x dark!Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my Original characters

a/n sorry it took so long to update...but heres the wedding night!, next chapter will be a time skip!

(go to the divider by @zaldritzosrose, to skip the smut)

The feast passed over in the blink of an eye and before she knew it her and Aemond stood in his, or now their shared chambers.

Her belongings had been moved over during the ceremony, though they all seemed slightly out of place amongst his things.

Before, in the rare times she was in Aemond’s room, everything was always neat, nothing out of its designated spot, though his rooms lacked anything too personal, with no tapestries or rugs, nothing to permanent too show they were his.

Though it was no surprised that he seemed to have been own personal library in his rooms, with a whole wall dedicated to his collection.

Now the rooms seemed warmer, with his bookcase draped in her tapestries, the floor covered in her rugs. And his bed filled with her mountains for pillows and blankets. His room was bigger than hers, and it allowed everything, even her seemingly endless wardrobe to fit in effortlessly.  Though apart of it still felt strange. Perhaps it was how the furniture was so different from hers. Where her bed was carved with sea horses and dragons, his was bare, bar the one carving at the centre of his bed, a dragon, Vaghar.

Her vanity had been brought in, all her belongings placed perfectly, her new chemise placed carefully on the bed.

Her maid, Jeyne, had accompanied her. Taking of her dress and her jewels.

She already missed her gown, hating that she only got to where it for a few hours and would never be worn again.

“Would you like to keep it?” Jeyne asked softly, as she brushed through Aemma’s hair.

“yes” she nodded, it was such a beautiful dress, weeks and weeks had gone into the design alone. With its ivory coloured, laced with gold designs of dragons. The way the were sewn in away that they almost looked as if they were dancing, some beaded with emeralds, some with sapphires and the others beaded with black opal gems. “its too beautiful to be discarded off, may haps we could have the dress made into another gown.”

Jeyne smiled softly, “of course, princess”.

The door opened then, and Aemond entered.

Jeyne stepped back, curtsying before leaving the room.

They were alone, truly alone. It was different than all the times before, this time she stood before him, in a sheer chemise, that left almost nothing to the imagination.

“Aemond” she whispered as he stepped into the room.

He wore a rich red robe, where he had changed you did not know, but the sight of his bare chest peaking out from his robe, caused all thoughts to cease.

“Aemma,” he moved towards you, smiling, his eyes filled with something akin to a predator watching its prey. “you look stunning” he hummed, his hands coming up to play with the straps of your chemise.

You gave him a shy smile, “i-I so are you?” she said, nervously.

He hummed again, moving her strap to fall of her shoulders, “are you nervous?”                                

“yes”

He hummed, his hand reaching up to grab her breast, she gasped. “good” he whispered, “it will hurt, but only the first time, and then…then my sweet Aemma you will feel nothing but pleasure” he vowed, moving up to take her lips in his.

She moaned into his mouth, her feet stumbling backward until she landed on the bed. She gasped softly as she did. He leaned over her once they had reached the bed, his hand gasping her chin as he pulled her into another kiss, before pulling back and standing between her legs.

He kissed his thumb as he moved back to look at her, taking in her form. Her hair messed slightly, her chemise had fallen slightly, only one move away before falling off and revelling her breasts to him.

“off” he said, motioning her to stand up, nervously she did, her hands going to pull her chemises up, “no,” he said, stopping her, “I shall see all of you”

She looked down at the floor nervously, before reaching once again towards her straps.

As she pulled her chemise down, Aemond let out a loan groan.

“gods, you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen” he said, causing her to blush.

“I want to see you to.”

Aemond smirked, reaching to pull of his robe, he bared himself to her. His full form, the muscles on his chest, his half erect cock.

She blushed even more taking him in. “I think you are most handsome, Aemond” causing him to smile, a true smile. “but I want to see all of you” she insisted, moving her hand towards his face. He grabbed her hand as she reached for his eye patch. “please” she asked.

He hesitated, “why?” he almost sneered, “tis your brothers fault I lost it”

“but its not mine.” She sighed, “please Aemond, I wish to see my husband, all of him”

He sighed, before letting go of her wrist allowing her to remove his eyepatch.

He had expected her gasp in fear, retreat away from him. Instead, though she gasped, it was more in awe than anything else.

“is that a sapphire?” she asked coming to caress his scar. He nodded. “its beautiful” she sighed, before placing a soft kiss below it.

She smiled softly, as she took a step back, “have you…?” she asked, shyly, she did not know much of what was to come, bar what her septa had told her, and though she grew jealous of the idea of Aemond lying with another woman, a apart of her hoped he had, hoped he could guide her and teach her. All she wanted was to please him, make him happy, and how could she if she didn’t have him to show her how?

He nodded, smirking slightly, “of course, wife” he nodded, moving to grasp her chin, “but worry not non of them shall ever compare to you” he said as he kissed her once more. He held her face to him, gripping the back of her neck, his tongue teasing entrance into her mouth before finally pushing his tongue into her mouth. And ever submissive, Aemma allowed him to dominate her mouth. She moaned softly into his mouth, as she once again laid back on the bed, his body effortless slotting over hers.

His mouth slowly left hers, moving to kiss the nape of her neck before slowly dropping to his knees.

He sent her a smirk, as he buried himself between her thighs.

He licked her folds teasingly at first, savouring the taste of her.

She was growing wetter and wetter with each motion of his tongue, moaning softly as he started to focus his ministration on her clit.

He gripped her hips as he gave fast and quick licks to her clit, his eyes meeting hers as she gripped the bedding in pleasure.

“Husband” she moaned, and it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, for so long he had worshiped the sound of his name on her lips, but hearing her call him her husband? The possessive in him became tenfold. She was his, in the eyes of the gods and the realm, she was his and he was hers and nothing could change that. And gods did he love it, love her.

His tongue moved faster, realising in her moans. His arm still griped her wait, stopping her from moving his hips, though his second arm left her waist, moving his fingers to tease her whole.

She was tight, completely untouched. She gasped as he entered her, her walls clenching his fingers as they entered her.

Groaning as he imagined how they would soon feel wrapped around his cock.

Pumping his fingers in and out of her at a leisurely pace, as he sucked at her clit.

“Aemond” she moaned this time, reaching her hand to grip his hair.

He groaned as she did, before reaching out to grip her hand alongside her waist.

His fingers clenched around him, her peak approaching.

Her moans came more present, getting louder and louder before she let out a high-pitched moan, her whole body reacting as she came.

Aemond moved back slowly, taking in her messy hair and bliss ridden face.

She was out of breath, collapsing fully on the bed.

“wife” he groaned, his body moving over hers.

She smiled softly as she looked up at him.

“is that what it always feels like?” she asked, breathless.

He smirked, “It can”

“I want to do the same to you?”

He looked unsure at her request, though he had imagined fucking her face countless times, he craved to feel her hot cunt wrapped around his cock.

But as she moved up to kiss him, her hand slowly reaching down to grab his cock. He groaned as she nervously touched his cock, her face determined to please him.

“Aemma.” He groaned, as his face buried himself into the nape of her neck.

He shoved himself off her, her hands slowly falling from his cock to her thighs as he moved.

“up” he demanded, as she nervously stood from the bed. ”kneel”. She did so hesitantly, looking up at him with nervous doe eyes.

The sight alone was enough for him to cum.

his hand gripped her jaw as she looked up at him, his thumb pushing into her mouth slowly. “suck” he demanded, as her reached to tuck her hair behind her ear.

She complied without complaint, gently sucking on his thumb as he pushed it into her mouth. He groaned as she did, moving his thumb out of his mouth.

“kiss it” he said, pushing his hips so his cock moved closer to her face.

She looked up at him unsure as she kissed his tip. Her lips were soft an gentle as they kissed the tip of his cock.

“again” he groaned, as she kissed it again, her hands laid pliantly on her knees , her hair now gripped between his hands as he made a makeshift bun as he held her head to his cock as she started to pepper kisses across his cock.

“fuck, Aemma” he moaned, “open” he said, and as she did, he slowly pushed his cock between her lips.

her mouth case warm, the feeling of her mouth felt almost as delightful as he imagined the walls of her cunt would feel like wrapped around his cock.

her hands slowly moved up from where they say on your knees. One hand gripped his waist, in an attempt to stabilise herself as Aemond moved her head to bob up and down his cock. the other went to reach for the base of his cock, he barley fit in her mouth, and as she gagged around his cock, causing him to groan and the eyes rolling back.

“fuck” he groaned again, “use your hand to grab what cannot fit” he moaned, moving your head faster, “move it up an- yes like that, good girl” he moaned as she started to motion her hand up and down on the part of her cock she couldn’t fit into her mouth.

He moved his hand to grip the back of her neck, his hips now thrusting forward as he slowly started to fuck her face. Though he didn’t for long as before he knew it he could feel his own peak approaching.

He tore himself from her mouth, causing her to groan at the loss of him in her mouth.

She looked up at him, bewildered, before reaching forward in an attempt to take him back in her mouth.

“no, Aemma” he laughed, pulling her body up from the floor. “on the bed.” He said, as he himself moved to lay back, patting the space beside him.

She crawled across the bed to him, stopping in front of him. His legs were spread, and she crawled into his lap, softly kissing his lips.

She could taste herself on his tongue and she was sure he could taste himself on her own tongue.

She could feel his cock between her thighs, edging closer to her cunt.

“lay back” he said against her lips.

Laying down on the bed, Aemond once again crawled on top of her. His hand moved down to her cunt, his finger gathering up her wetness as he once again teased her entrance, he pushed two fingers into her slowly, stretching her more so that he had before, preparing her for his cock.

She moaned as he did so, the stretch delightful as he pumped her full, but she still craved more, she craved his cock.

“please” she begged.

“please what?” he hummed, pumping her slowly.

“I want you” she moaned.

“you have me.” “no…I want your…your cock” she whispered the last word, feeling dirty from saying it .

“my cock?” he teased, as he removed his fingers from her.

“Yes!” she groaned, moving to grab him, “please”

He hummed, smiling softly as he positioned himself between her thighs.

He kissed her softly as he slowly pushed into her.

Her face scrunched discomfort as he stretch her and broke her maidenhead. He pushed into her slowly, allowing her to adjust to his length.

He moaned as he fully entered her, her tight walls encasing his cock in such a delightful way.

“gods, Aemma” he moaned, as he buried his head into the nape of her neck.

“move, please” she begged after a moment, her hands moving to grip his arms, as he slowly started to thrust his hips into her. He started of slowly, allowing her time to adjust, but as she started to roll her hips into his. He began to pick up his face, slowly setting a fast rhyme. His hand moving from her sides to grip the head board as he started to pound into her.

Her moans grew louder and more high pitched, her legs moving to wrap around his waist.

“keep your eyes on me” he groaned as she closed her eyes in pleasure, her legs fell from his hips, her eyes fully fixed on his as she started to reach her peak.

The eye contact was like nothing she had experienced before. His eyes were dark, possessive, and yet also filled with love. The pure amount of emotions in her eyes pushed her to competition, as she let out a high pitched squeal, her arms gripping his pack, living small scratches as she came.

Her cunt wrapped tightly around his cock, causing Aemond o let outa moan of his own as he worked her through her orgasm, before finally letting go himself, filling her with his cum.

They got little sleep that night, with scarce few minutes before being awoke once more to heated touches, her cunt stretches with his cock in more ways than she could count. She have never felt anything like it, the pleasure beyond imaginable.

As she awoke now she traced the lines of Aemond’s face gently, taking in his beauty. He was truly spectacular, all sharp lines and edges, his silver hair and purple eye.  She envied his beauty, how Valyrian he looked and how little she did.

She hoped there children would inherit his beauty and not hers. She adored the idea of carry a little Aemond.

She smiled softly as she played with his hair, only stopping when a knock was sounded on her door.

Grabbing her robe, and quickly brushing her hair she opened the door, only to face her mother.

She smiled softly as she greeted her, “mother” she said, motioning her to step inside, her mother grimacing slightly as she took in Aemond’s sleeping from. “what can I do for you?”

Her mother sighed, looking down in shame “ we are leaving…now”

“what?”

“I- we cannot be here much longer, the- we are unwelcome so we have decided it best to leave.”

“but I just got married, I thought you would stay at least a few more days”

“I know…im sorry”

Aemma scoffed, “sorry? You do not write me, show up for a few days and then leave again! You are not sorry! You just don’t want me! I doubt you ever did!” she cried in aguish.

“no.. no Aemma, dōna riña, that’s not true.” She moved towards, her reaching for her hands only to be met with Aemma’s rejection, nyke bardutan ao naenie letters, kīvin zijo.  nyke dōrī jiōraton aōhon se nyke pendagon bona se greens- alicent se aemond hid zirȳ hen ao naejot gūrogon ao hen nyke” her mother spoke, chaing to high valyrian as if to keep what she ahd to say a secret.

i wrote you many letters, i swear it. i never got yours and i think that the greens- Alicent and Aemond hid them from you to take you from me.

“daor daor, nyke ȳdra daor belive ao!”

No no, I don’t believe you!

“iksan telling se truth, ñuha jorrāelagon, emā issare torn hen nyke se kostan daor bare naejot ūndegon ziry.  eman issare vēttan ezīmagon iā issaros se kicked hen ñuha own lenton, istin henujagon”

i am telling the truth, my love, you have been torn from me and i can not bare to see it. i have been made into a stranger and kicked from my own home, i must leave.

Aemma scoffed, “nyke- nyke, aōha verdagon bē excuses muña! Aemond vestās ao would, skoro syt shouold nyke believe ao? especially skori īlē sīr adere naejot jikagon nyke qrīdrughagon?”

i-i, your making up excuses mother! Aemond said you would, why shouold i belive you? especially when you were so quick to send me away?

Her mother let out an irritated sound, “have I lost you complete, Aemma?” she asked sadly “I have been so blind, I should have come with you, should have stayed here-“ “then stay!”

“I can’t”

“I don’t understand! What have I done?” she asked, she was confused she didn’t know what she had done, why her own mother couldn’t stay, why she had left her.

“i- you have done nothing” her mother insisted.

“so you are leaving just because you do not like me? Or is it because of Aemond? You were always against our friendship, and yet you were the one who proposed we wed! you are so-“

She was cut off by Aemond, their shouting waking him from sleep, “get out!” he demanded, “all you do is upset my wife, I shall not have it!”

And her mother left, with no complaint only sad eyes and the word goodbye. The way she said it made her feel as if her mother felt like she had lost her forever, as if this was there final goodbye.

Next part

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to be added to taglist

[rooksamoris]

I've come to humbly request and spread propaganda for Jamil L/N.

Jamil taking his s/o's name strikes 3 birds with one stone: freedom from the Asims (you can't tell me there hasn't been a single Viper who didn't marry into another family and adopt their trade), freedom to marry the love of his life, and guaranteeing freedom for his descendants. Depending on how things go with Najma, they could erase the Viper name and, by extension, their servitude.

Also how does he react being called Mr.L/N?

💞 — in which jamil marries you and takes your last name.

💞 — jamil viper x reader

💞 — warnings: none, this is pure fluff and romance

💞 — 1.2k words. i ended up writing a mix of drabbles and headcanons <33 your propaganda turned into me making even more propaganda for this idea. honestly, seems very plausible that he would do something like this.

“I’ll take your last name. If we want to get married, I have to take your name, or else you’d be stuck serving with me,” Jamil said, breaking the silence. His eyes remained on the book in his lap, looking through the various pictures from his parents’ wedding. He would be wearing his father’s old garments. 

The man had an intricate belt with a jambiyah (dagger) tied around the waist of his thobe (long dress-like garment), and his hair was done in various braids with a shemagh (men’s headscarf) tied over it. He had a few ornate pieces of fabric draped over him like a cape and a spot of henna on the inside of his palm. The usual kohl (eyeliner) was a bit smudged from all the festivities—Jamil had never seen his father look this happy. 

His mother was dressed similarly, with old pieces of gold and silver jewelry about. Her big earrings had matched the rings his father wore, and she had kohl drawn on both her eyes and her chin, in the shape of ancient tattoos. Here hair had scented plants interwoven in the strands, and Jamil wondered if he should do the same with his hair, draping a shemagh over it. It seemed like something you would enjoy, and he would enjoy you taking them out at the end of the night. He spoke again, “What do you think of that?” he asked, concerning him taking your name.

You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder, flipping the page to another picture of his parents’s wedding, this one featuring his mother shyly lifting a piece of her sitara (long piece of fabric with various designs which directly translates to ‘curtain’) to hide her face from her husband, “I think it's a wonderful idea.”

🩷 — Taking your last name was probably the best decision he could have made. He indulged in the marriage festivities with you for both your sake and his parent’s sake. What he was excited about was signing the contract that officially gave him your surname—freeing him from the shackles of the Viper clan.

🩷 — He did it after the festivities when it was just the two of you guys and the imam as well as a legal advisor. You both were still in the wedding clothes, sitting on an ornate rug with a little table in front of you. 

🩷 — Jamil could feel the tremors of his heart in his hand as he lifted the pen and signed his name beside yours. This time, Viper was nowhere to be found.

🩷 — With that, Jamil shook hands with the imam and then handed the page to the legal advisor to be put in the Scalding Sands’s records. It all felt so surreal. He glanced over his shoulder to see you gleefully talking to the imam about the marriage and showing off your wedding band. 

🩷 — It was a thin gold ring that he had made with the antiquities left by his family. Nothing fancy—he wanted to give you diamonds, and yet you were so smitten with it and him.

Once nightfall came, Jamil lay beside you in your bed. A bed for the both of you. It was a bed he bought under his new name, Jamil (L/N), under the surname you gifted him. His charcoal eyes watched as you sat down at the edge of the bed, your night robe dipped down your back. It matched his nightgown, save for the patterns. He helped you fall in love with the comfortable garb of his homeland.

You turned slightly to see him, your eyes growing tender at the sight of him all disheveled. This was a sight just for you, “What are you thinking about?” you asked, reaching out to take his hand.

Jamil pulled you closer to him by your hand, forcing you to lay on top of him. He kissed your knuckles, “Thinking about you, hayati (my life),” he muttered, before letting his hand trail up your arm and to the back of your neck. His gaze had softened and his features relaxed, “Thank you,” 

You did not need to ask why he thanked you. You knew he felt indebted to you for being patient with him and becoming his spouse. You gave him the greatest gift ever, freedom. Free to be yours, free from Kalim Al-Asim. You freed his descendants… he would spend the rest of his life as your husband, repaying you with kisses across your skin and warm meals in your belly.

🩷 — It takes him a long time to get used to his new name, as well as his newfound freedom. After your wedding, he takes you out to do many of the things he could not do before, such as travel to another country, but even simple things like going out to parks.

🩷 — He did not have to worry about Kalim anymore, just your and his enjoyment.

🩷 — Jamil still has yet to get used to being called by your surname. When he notices it, he is filled with a smug and quiet pride, but most of the time he just ends up ignoring whoever is calling for him, or glancing over at you in confusion, thinking that they are speaking with you and not him.

🩷 — This was particularly apparent when it came to the reunion at Night Raven College.

🩷 — He did not want to go, but he could not reject you either. You were excited about seeing your silly friends, and who was he to stop you from going? Instead, he just sighed and went along with you, standing off to the side and watching as you ran about to gather Ace and Deuce, as well as greeting your other friends.

“If it isn’t the new Mr. (L/N),” Azul approached his former classmate with a suave grin. He had grown up, but it was clear he still kept that usual ‘evil businessman’ charm to him. His suit was freshly pressed and his hair, which had grown a bit, was brushed back neatly. Though, he was still wearing the same thin-rimmed glasses.

Jamil turned around when he heard your surname being called, and it took him a moment to realize what was happening. He was your husband. Sure, he remembered your wedding—he carried a picture from it all the time, but it was still strange hearing it affirmed by someone else. He tried to hide how happy he was to hear it behind a raised brow and his usual frown, “What do you want, Azul? My spouse isn’t going to be pulled into one of your schemes anymore,” he said, arms crossed.

Azul laughed at that, tilting his cane a bit as he leaned away from Jamil, “You wound me, Jamil. As if I would try anything like that anymore,” he replied, and the irony was not lost on him at all. Instead, he sighed and watched as Jamil’s eyes found your figure again. You were chasing Epel around, trying to get a hug from your old friend. It was just like before, except now you wore a ring from Jamil and he wore a name from you.

“You don’t seem so poor and unfortunate now,” Azul said.

Jamil could not bite back the slight twitch of his lips, “Not at all.”

[gloomwitchwrites]

Flower Crown

Aragorn x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): fluff, light angst, kissing, non-descriptive intimacy

Word Count: 2k

During a spring festival, the man you love returns unexpectedly.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // spring 2024 masterlist

The sky is a cloudless, endless ocean above your head.

You breathe deep, savoring the scents in the air. Newly bloomed flowers, freshly baked bread, and roasting chicken all infiltrate your nostrils, reminding of you the celebration that’s about to begin. Anticipation buzzes under your skin like a swarm of startled bees. You’ve been waiting for this all winter. Spring is finally here, knocking, ready to be greeted. The flowers are in full bloom, and the trees have awakened from their solemn slumber.

Every year the small village in which you’ve lived your whole life celebrates the changing of the seasons. A community-wide festival is held. Each person is involved in their own way, and the duties are often assigned at the beginning of winter to allow everyone to prepare. Sometimes, these responsibilities shift, but a few remain the same.

Last year, you attended the baker in their duties to provide baked goods. This year, you were tasked with sewing new dresses for all the unmarried young women. The base fabric, an off-white cotton, remains the same. It’s like a blank page awaiting colorful paint or black ink, each dress ready to be designed with every young woman in mind. You, and several of the married women, take great care in personalizing each dress to the young ladies’ personalities.

It is not by chance that this happens. It is more than tradition. Rebirth and renewal are the themes of the festival, and with that comes an influx of weddings. The dresses are for that very reason, as a form of matchmaking, along with the presented flower crowns and the festival itself. You’ve always thought it silly but never truly commented on the matter. Fortunately, with you on sewing duties, you were able to work on your own dress.

With the dresses come flower crowns. They are given to the young women by unmarried men of the village. It is always the married women and village elders who quietly determine which man will gift what crown to who. They’re intuition is almost always correct. It is rare for a pair to not eventually marry. Sometimes it is quick, and sometimes it is years later before either realizes they belong together.

And the flower crowns are the true beauty. Another group handmakes each one. But because you know how intricate they are, you did nothing for your dress. It is simple. Plain. Just because you’re forced to be part of this tradition doesn’t mean you want to try and find a husband. You’re perfectly fine alone, because the man you do want is far away.

He isn’t avoiding you. Not on purpose. Aragorn is a ranger. He thrives in the wilds, seeking out the darkness to rid it from the world. But you do miss your wanderer. He tries to travel through your area as often as he can just to see you.

Over the years, the friendliness has grown, becoming heat and tension.

None of the other men in the village make you feel the way he does, and they likely never will.

In the shade of a tree, you smooth out the front of your dress. The tips of your fingers itch and you need to move them just to calm yourself. That alone is silly. What do you have to be nervous for? The process is always the same, always consistent, so why do you feel like this?

The young, unmarried women begin to congregate near the arch of flowers. Breathing deep, you march forward, finding your spot where it always is. You can taste the eagerness in the air. The women around you are just as nervous, nearly bouncing on their toes. They whisper to each other, giggling, but none of them glance your way or address you.

All day, and not even one has thanked you for your work.

But you won’t let it eat away at your resolve. Today is a good day. You’ll drink berry wine and gorge yourself on delicious food while listening to the married women gossip about their husbands.

As the village elders arrive, all talking ceases. That is the cue, and just like the women in line, you curtesy. You’re not allowed to look up, to glance into the face of the man who will place a crown upon your head. You keep your head bent and gaze on the ground.

There is shuffling, the rustling of hands lifting crowns. You focus on the green grass beneath your feet. You’re the only one up here not wearing shoes. You breathe in, and out, watching as so many pairs of polished boots pass by.

When someone does stop before you, the boots are not clean. They are muddy and have seen travel. You almost want to laugh but really, you’re curious. Who is this? Who would be so bold to come to the crowning with filthy boots?

In the next moment, the crown is placed upon your head. You don’t move. Don’t breathe. The stranger’s fingers brush the underside of your chin, pressing gently. You respond. You can’t resist. It is natural to do so.

Your gaze takes in this stranger as your head lifts. And when you see his face, you realize that this is no stranger at all.

“Aragorn,” you whisper, and his response is a smile.

There is applause, and good-natured cheering all around, and yet you respond to none of it. It is only him, this man you’ve been missing, standing before you.

“What are you doing here?” you ask just as the music starts up. It’s too early. Aragorn often arrives in the fall when the leaves start to change.

Others are already wandering off together or going their separate ways. You’re left staring, happy to see him but not understanding why.

“To see you,” he replies.

To see you. To see you. Whatever nervousness you felt before is gone, replaced with a giddiness that sends heat right to your cheeks.

When you don’t reply immediately, Aragorn frowns. “Have I upset you?”

“No!” You reach for him, grabbing his upper arm, taking a step forward. “Not at all. I’m just…surprised.”

His gaze softens, and you could fall into his depths. “Didn’t think I’d come?”

“You always visit when the weather begins to cool.”

“I do,” he agrees. “Couldn’t stay away.” Aragorn says this almost absently as his fingers toy with a white ribbon on your dress.

A young woman shrieks with delight, and you and Aragorn both turn as she’s hoisted in the air.

“Would you like to dance?” he asks.

The answer is immediate. “Yes.”

He presents his hand, and you take it. His palm is warm. Strong. Aragorn leads, and then you’re moving, matching the correct steps. It’s not an intense dance but it isn’t slow either.

“Did you just arrive?”

He smiles. “As they were distributing the flowers.”

“Is that why you’re so dirty?” Aragorn laughs as you lean in and sniff, making an exaggerated expression. “And smelly?”

“I thought you liked the way I smelled after a ride.” Aragorn wraps his arm around your waist, turning as he does so.

“A ride,” you correct. “Not a journey.”

The music swells, dips, and then increases in pace. You’re left focusing on your feet, going through the motions. But Aragorn knows what he’s doing, and he leads you through it effortlessly. It’s difficult to speak, but his hands do enough talking. Aragorn’s touch lingers. He might squeeze slightly or allow his hand to wander. It stirs something hot in your belly that travels lower until you’re blazing everywhere.

When the music comes to an end, and the two of you are out of breath, Aragorn places his hand on your lower waist and guides you away.

“Something to drink?”

“Please.”

Berry wine is had before Aragorn takes your hand again, the two of you strolling off into the nearby orchard. Between the trees, there is privacy, the two of you walking in gentle silence. It’s just your hand in his and the warm breeze that stirs up your dress.

“I’m glad you’re here,” you say, stopping next to an apple tree. There are leaves on its branches but no blooms.

Aragorn comes to a stop beside you, his chest nearly brushing your shoulder. “Glad? That is all you feel?” With a soft touch, Aragorn turns your head in his direction. His head is angled downward, and there is no escaping what you see in his eyes.

There are times when the two of you have found a bit of quiet, some peace only with the need to explore the other. As you gaze upon his face, you are entirely aware of what he wants, but Aragorn is an honorable man. He will not push or insist on more unless you’re the one who seeks it out.

The berry wine is warm in your blood. Aragorn’s nearness is just as intoxicating. His fingers play with that same ribbon, and you lean into his touch until your noses brush lightly against each other.

“There is plenty I feel,” you reply, your voice a whisper amongst the birdsong and breeze.

“Is your heart willing to share?” Aragorn tugs lightly on the ribbon, loosening a portion of the bodice.

“Is yours willing to hear the truth?” you counter, knowing that you’d give him anything in this moment.

Aragorn tugs on the ribbon again, loosening the bodice further. Air rushes into your lungs as your chest receives a bit of freedom. “Tell me now. Under the trees. Let the sky listen.”

“You’re far too sweet to be a warrior,” you laugh, and Aragorn grins, closing the distance. The kiss is chaste and lovely, sending heat down to your toes and up to the crown of your head.

Your fingers find the front of his tunic. They curl inward, pulling of their own accord, seeking his closeness. Aragorn indulges, deepening the kiss until your bodies are pressed together. His hand rises, clutching the back of your neck. There is only you and him and your repeated meetings.

When you finally break apart, your lips are raw, and you hunger for more. You ache for deeper things, and long to tell him so.

“Is this all right?” he asks, fingers brushing against your exposed collarbone.

“Yes,” you murmur in reply, shivering under his touch.

Aragorn returns to your mouth, and you open for him. Your own fingers explore as much as his, but it is Aragorn’s fingers that venture beneath fabric.

You inhale sharply, and his hand retreats. “Apologies.”

“Don’t stop,” you say, grasping his wrist to guide his hand back to your skin.

Under the shade of the apple tree, Aragorn follows your lead, the two of you finding a dance. Although time has not been kind, keeping the two of you parted, there is no need to rush. You are happy simply existing with him, taking time to explore and savor what you’ve missed over the last few months.

Every caress is a song, and each kiss not only satiates but fuels the hunger that sits low in your belly. Fingers press and dig into skin. Clothing opens or falls away. There is no one else around, and Aragorn’s warmth is all you seek.

“Will you stay?” you ask between kisses.

Aragorn pauses, drawing back slightly. “For a few days.”

A few days. A few days with him and then separation. With Aragorn arriving now, will he return in the fall? Or will this be your new normal?

Even as these doubts swirl in your mind, you know the truth.

You don’t care.

As long as he comes, as long as he returns to you when he can, that is enough.

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck

@tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @cherryofdeath

@berarenado @therealbloom @ninman82 @thewulf @ferns-fics

@beebeechaos @hantheconqueror @miaraei

[cheonstapes]

hi! i absolutely love your spider-barbie x miguel fic! could you pls do a miguel x fashion reader who loves wearing pretty dresses and skirts but he gets a little possessive and then other stuff ensues..

miguel o'hara stars in... 'MY DRESS UP DARLING' ♡(>ᴗ•)

a/n~ this request is so cute omg i always wanted to be a fashion designer so i kinda channelled that. i was thinking of valdrin sahiti's dresses the whole time, also POSSESSIVE MIGUELL AHHH!! enjoy my lovely 💗💗💗💗

summary; miguel loves it when you dress up, only for him though. no one else.

wc; 1.6k+

pairings; husband!miguel o'hara x wife!fashion designer!reader

cw; SMUT!!, voyeurism, breeding kink, possessive behaviour, fingering, meanish-soft?dom!miguel, sub!reader p in v, tit slapping like once, a guy watches you two fuck, is dirty (￣▽￣*)ゞ, nawt proofread - this took me like 2 days to write m a busy girlie

you were just so gorgeous. ever since you and miguel started living together you completely took over the space in your shared closet with the most beautiful pieces of clothes he’s ever laid eyes on, eventually leading to miguel spending a whole week making you your own walk-in closet. he took you out shopping after that, since you had all this new space - why not fill it with even more clothes?

typically, you liked to design your own. dresses of all shapes and sizes, skirts too, but miguel loved spoiling you too much - besides, he loves it when you dress up for him. he booked you a private fitting in one of the top boutiques in nueva york, you would talk his ear off about how badly you wanted a dress from them, sending him pics of all the new pieces they’d put out. what’s better than spending quality time with his baby?

when you two arrived at the boutique, you were greeted by a young man. he was handsome, not as handsome as your husband, but still handsome. he smiled brightly at you whilst handing you a glass of champagne before turning to miguel and doing the same. “good afternoon mrs. o’hara, mr. o’hara. we’ll sure to make this the most memorable experience for you, seeing as your husband booked the most expensive service we offer. but a beautiful lady like yourself deserves the best, regardless.” the little fucker winked at you. miguel was slowly starting to regret coming here, seeing you blush faintly from the compliment made his blood boil.

the man attempted to put his hand in yours, trying to guide you to the fitting rooms - did he want to get fucked up? miguel let out a low growl, wrapping an arm around your waist a pulling you close to him. “well? lead the way then.” 

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

for the most part, miguel was enjoying watching you dress up so prettily. everything fit you like a glove, all of the dresses chosen specifically from your instagram collections and your pinterest boards. adjusting himself, he eyed you hungrily. this dress was just perfect. it looked so similar to your wedding dress, you looked so beautiful in it - even more so when he fucked you in that same night. he had picked this dress out for you specifically and he was secretly crossing his fingers in hopes that you liked it, and like it you did. but someone else liked it too, a bit too much.

the shop assistant stood at the side of the platform, gawking at you. obviously, miguel knew his wife was a whole goddess, too good for this world - but this guy was staring so shamelessly at you. he couldn’t allow that, nuh uh. “d’you like the dress, my love? i picked it out for you, knew you’d look so sexy in it.” miguel stands behind you now, large hands caressing your hips as he presses himself against you. he whispered into your ear but it was 100% loud enough for the assistant to hear, seeing as his face started to turn a deep red at the pda.

this only fuelled miguel to go even further, lip’s latching onto your sensitive neck, sucking on the skin. one of his hands moves up the dress, skimming the fat of your exposed cleavage before pushing under the fabric to grope your tit, thumb rubbing teasing circles over your pert nipples. “this dress was made for you, doll, no one could wear it like you do.” he spun you around, both hands gripping onto your ass. his hard cock presses into your stomach, your hand coming up to his chest, pure embarrassment on your face. “h-honey,” you had to get on your tip-toes to whisper to your behemoth of a husband, holding onto his shoulders. “what are you doing? can’t you wait till we get home, baby?” 

he smiled, brushing his hand along the side of your face. “how else am i gonna teach that little perv a lesson if we’re at home, hm? look at him, love. he’s probably gonna get off to this later.” you would think the guy isn’t even there with the way that miguel completely disregarded his presence, talking about him so openly like he wasn’t even there. but miguel didn’t give a fuck, patting your ass to get you to jump onto him, wrapping your legs tightly around his thin waist.

he sat down on the sofa in front of the mirror, deftly hiking up the dress to bunch up just above your plump ass, palming his hands over the skin. giving the assistant a view to remember, he pushed your thong to the side, creamy strings of arousal cling onto the fabric. you were wet, so wet - your sexy husband was feeling you up, what else could you do? “mírate, empadada para mí. you’re such a dirty girl, eh love? or is it that you like being watched?” three fingers plunged into you, he moved them teasingly slow, pressing them up against the most sensitive spots - curling them, moving faster and faster until he feels you clench around his thick fingers. 

“you gonna cum, sweetheart?” he slows his fingers down to a gentle grind, thumb flicking your swollen clit. your soft whines and whimpers were just too cute, he can see the guy’s hard-on - his shaky hands dipping under the waistband of his slacks. “mmh - y-yeahhh, feels so g-good.” your hips were moving so salaciously against his hands, the urge to give in to you was becoming harder to resist for miguel. but he had to make sure that idiot learnt not to fuck with what’s his. he pulled his fingers out of your soaked cunt, licking your essence of his fingers before lifting you up and turning you around in his lap, your pussy exposed for the assistant to see.

“baby, what’re you-“ you could hear the sound of a belt unbuckling behind you, and the wet slap of your husband’s tip against his toned stomach. he places a hand on your lower back, arching it whilst the other comes to pull the front of your dress down - perky tits spilling out of the lacy front. “lift your hips for me, love.” he slips his thick cock under, smacking his tip against your clit, pre smearing all over it. “fuck, honey, please i need you.”  of course, he could never say no to you. 

he pushed himself inside of you, pulling you back down. keeping a fast pace, the wet sounds of your ass meeting his hips reverberated throughout the room, one of his hands groping your tits. “you like that, baby? you - fuck - you like getting fucked like the little slut you are, moanin’ my name like that.” drool was slipping out of your mouth, running down your chest. all you could let out were garbled whimpers and moans, your smaller hands gripping his arms as he used you like a fleshlight.

the assistants hand was moving rapidly under his slacks, his eyes trained on the sight of miguel’s cock stretching you out so deliciously. you lost all feelings of embarrassment long ago, your shaky hands rubbing tight circles against your swollen clit. miguel cursed under his breath, his own voice slightly shaken, his large hand splayed against your stomach. the outline of his cock pressed against his hand, he was so, so deep in you. “shit…would you look at that.” he ran his thumb over the outline of his tip, hips stuttering as a jolt of pleasure racked both of your bodies. 

“god, fuck - ‘m gonna fill this sweet pussy up. you always wanted me to knock you up, right love?” he smacks your tit, the flesh jiggling in his palms as he quickens his thrusts. “see my girls swollen with milk, this beautiful belly of yours all heavy with our babies. everyone will know you’re mine, ‘m never letting you go - i’ll fuck as many babies as i have to in this tight cunt to make you remember that.”

your thighs trembled at his words, fingers on your clit sloppy as you clench tightly around him, a broken whine of his name leaving your lips. squirting all over the sofa, his cock almost pushed out of you from the force of your orgasm. the faint whimper from the corner tells you both the assistant finished too, his arm draped along his face. miguel was so close, pushing his cock as deep as it could go, forcing more liquid out of your quivering cunt.

“thaaat’s it, baby, you’re so gorgeous when you cum. f-fuck - take it, fucking take all of my cum.” his hips push against you two, three more times before he spills his load inside, the thick, creamy liquid seeping out and pooling at the base of his cock. he ruts against you slowly, pushing his cum back into you - pressing kisses down the side of your sweaty neck. “you did so good for me, i love you so much.” you smiled deliriously, pressing a deep kiss on his spit soaked lips. “mmm, i love you too, honey.”

his gaze then locks onto the assistant, eyes narrowed and demanding. he hold you tightly against him, hand caressing your ass lovingly. “you. ring up all of this shit, she’ll keep this one on.” he nods frantically, tripping over himself as he grabs all the dresses on the racks. “one more thing,”

“when you’re done, do me a favour and quit. i don’t wanna see you here again.”

“miguel!”

- mírate, empadada para mí. - look at you, so wet for me

-come into my mouth, come into my mouth in the name of the lord

[d-targaryenshoe]

Betrothed, Wed - Anthony Bridgerton

Word count: 2914

Summary: Being wed to one another is more than just an 'I do' is it not?

The Bridgerton household was bustling with activity as the family gathered around the breakfast table. 

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm croissants filled the air, and the sound of cheerful chatter could be heard echoing through the corridors.

 It was a regular morning in the Bridgerton household, but little did they know, this breakfast would be far from ordinary.

As the family settled into their seats, Violet Bridgerton, the matriarch of the family, spoke up. 

"My dear children, I do hope there will be another grandchild soon," she said with a twinkle in her eye. 

This was a topic that was often brought up at the breakfast table, as Violet was keen on expanding their already large family.

Eloise Bridgerton, the second eldest daughter, was sipping on her tea when she heard her mother's words. 

She was taken aback and her eyes widened in surprise.

 She had not expected this topic to come up at the breakfast table, especially not so early in the morning.

As she tried to swallow her tea, she choked on it and coughed uncontrollably. 

Her siblings and mother quickly rushed to her side, patting her on the back and offering her water. 

Once she had regained her composure, Eloise glared at her mother and exclaimed

"Mother, must you always bring up the topic of marriage and children at breakfast?"

Violet chuckled at her daughter's reaction and replied. "Eloise, I am only stating the truth. Y/n is to be wed to Anthony today and it would be a pleasant surprise."

This was a common conversation in the Bridgerton household, as Violet was known for her love of children and her desire to have a large family. 

She had raised her eight children almost single-handedly after her husband's untimely death, and she cherished every moment of it.

Her children, on the other hand, had mixed feelings about the topic. 

Eloise and her younger sister, Francesca, were not as keen on the idea of marriage and children just yet.

Eloise had always been a headstrong and independent woman, and the thought of settling down and starting a family did not appeal to her. 

She had always dreamt of making a name for herself and pursuing her passion for writing. 

Francesca, on the other hand, was content with her life as it was and had no desire to conform to societal expectations.

Violet, however, was determined to see all her children settled and happy, and she was not one to give up easily.

 She continued to bring up the topic of marriage and children at every opportunity, much to the dismay of her children.

As they continued with their breakfast, the conversation shifted to lighter topics. 

But, the buzzing chatter came to a halt when the Bridgerton sister, Eloise, exclaimed.

“Have you all heard about the dress that Madame Delacroix has designed for y/n? It’s said to be one of her most exquisite works yet!”

The mention of the well-known designer, Madame Delacroix, immediately caught everyone’s attention, especially Daphne and Violet Bridgerton, who couldn’t hide their curiosity. 

You were a close family friend and recently engaged to Anthony Bridgerton, the eldest Bridgerton brother. 

The news of your betrothal had created quite a stir in London’s high society circles.

And now, there was talk of a special dress designed just for you by Madame Delacroix herself.

Eloise, who had heard about the dress from Lady Danbury, eagerly filled in her family with the details.

 “Apparently, Madame Delacroix has designed the dress keeping in mind y/n's vibrant and lively personality. It’s going to be fearless and assertive, just like her,' she explained.

The mention of an unconventional dress for a bride-to-be piqued Daphne’s interest, who had made a name for herself.

 “Well, this sounds like a dress worth seeing. I might even have some pointers for my dear sister-in-law,” she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Violet, the matriarch of the Bridgerton family, couldn’t help but smile at the prospect of seeing you in a dress that truly represented you.

 “I have always admired Madame Delacroix’s work, and I am sure this dress will be no exception. It will be a perfect reflection of y/n's character,” she remarked.

Daphne leaned in, her voice low and conspiratorial. 

"You know, Mother, I think it's time we assisted y/n to get ready for her big day. Eloise and I can take care of making sure the carriage arrives on time." 

Violet nodded in agreement, her eyes twinkling with delight.

 "That's a splendid idea, Daphne. Why don't you and Eloise ask Maid Rose for that matter while I help y/n with her wedding dress?"

You looked up at Violet, your heart swelling with gratitude. 

You always admired the older woman's grace and beauty, and the thought of having her help you get ready for your wedding was more than you could have asked for. 

As you stood, Violet placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. 

"You look stunning, dear. Now, let's get you into your dress and make sure you're ready to walk down the aisle in class."

Together, you made your way upstairs to the dressing room, the other women of the Bridgerton household trailing behind you. 

Eloise chuckled, "I can't wait to see you in your dress, y/n!" 

You blushed, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. You turned to Violet, who was already helping you unbutton your gown.

 "Thank you," you whispered. "For everything."

 Violet smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling with understanding. "It's my pleasure, dearest. Today is all about family, after all."

As they helped you into your wedding dress, the other women clustered around, offering their assistance and well wishes. 

Daphne secured the last of the buttons, while Eloise fussed with the veil until it was just so. 

 You looked like a goddess, ready to embark on your happily ever after.

Finally, they all stepped back to admire their handiwork. There was a moment of quiet as if everyone was taking in the significance of the moment. 

And then, Eloise, never one to be at a loss for words, squealed.

"You look absolutely radiant, y/n!"

 The others chimed in, nodding in agreement, their eyes shining with tears of happiness. 

You felt a lump form in your throat as you turned to Violet. 

"Thank you," you whispered. "For all of this." 

Violet reached out, taking your hand in hers. "Oh, dear," she said with a wink, "You're the one who's to be wed today."

And then, there was a knock at the door.

Violet Bridgerton, looked up from where she was standing in the room, her attention momentarily diverted from your dress. 

"Yes?" she called, her voice calm and composed.

There was a pause, and then the voice of Maid Rose floated up from the hallway. 

"My lady, the carriage is ready to take you to the chapel."

Violet smiled, nodding her approval.

 "Thank you, Rose. Please notify the driver that we will be on our way shortly." She turned back to her daughters and you.

 "Everyone, it's time. Let's make our way downstairs and get to the chapel."

Daphne, a blush prominent on her cheeks, stepped forward and took your hand. 

"Come, y/n. We'll carry your train together." 

As you all descended the grand staircase, the soft swishing of silk and the click-clack of heels echoed through the manor.

 Eloise, ever the curious one, darted ahead to peek out a window, marveling at the carriage outside.

When you reached the bottom of the staircase, Violet paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you, she felt a pang of pride and sadness all at once.

Knowing that this day would mark a new chapter not only for you and Anthony but for her family as well. 

You squared your shoulders and led you all out the door, towards the awaiting carriage.

The sun was shining brightly overhead, casting a warm glow over the manor grounds as you walked towards the carriage.

As you neared the carriage, the coachman opened the door and bowed gracefully. "Good morning, ladies. Shall we be on our way?"

Daphne, still holding your hand, stepped up into the carriage and took a seat beside you.

 She glanced back at her mother and Eloise, a sparkle of anticipation in her eyes.

 "Thank you," she said, reaching out to help Eloise and Violet into the carriage as well. 

As you all settled in, the coachman shut the door and climbed up onto his perch, taking the reins in hand. 

With a snap of his whip, the horses sprang into action, carrying you and the three Bridgertons towards the chapel.

The air inside the carriage was filled with the sweet scent of flowers and the rustle of your dress as you shifted her position. 

Finally, you rounded a corner and spotted the familiar spire of the chapel poking above the treetops.

As the carriage pulled up in front of the chapel, Violet stepped out first, her dress swirling about her as she supported Daphne and Eloise's descent. 

She then turned to face you, taking your hands in her own.

"My dear, you look absolutely stunning. Daphne has done an excellent job with your hair."

You smiled shyly. "Thank you, Violet. I'm just glad that everything is finally here. I can't believe it's actually happening."

You glanced over at Daphne, whose eyes glowing with happiness. "I'm so glad you're going to be my sister."

Your heart ached at the thought of your late father not being there to fulfill this honor. 

You had always imagined him proudly by your side during this momentous occasion. 

With a heavy heart, you thought of your options. 

You didn't have many close male relatives, and you weren't particularly close to your mother either.

 As you deliberated over your dilemma, your eyes wandered to the elegant figure of Violet Bridgerton.

The family's matriarch, who had always been like a mother figure to you.

Summoning your courage, you approached Violet in front of the steps from the chapel. 

"Violet, may I speak with you?" you asked, your voice filled with trepidation.

Violet turned towards you, her eyes filled with warmth. 

"Of course, my love," she replied. "What troubles you?"

You hesitated before speaking, your voice quivering with emotion.

 "I… I don't have anyone to walk me down the aisle," you confessed. "Would you consider doing it?"

Violet's eyes widened, her face a testament to the surprise. 

"Y/n, I would be honored," she said, her voice filled with sincerity. "Your father was a dear friend of mine, and I would be overjoyed to stand in his place."

Relief swept over you, and tears welled in your eyes. "Thank you, Violet. You have no idea how much this means to me."

When the time came, you and Violet entered the chapel side by side. The guests rose, their awe evident in their expressions. 

Your eyes locked on Anthony, who stood at the altar, an enchanting smile gracing his handsome face.

As you and Violet glided down the aisle together, the sunlight filtered through the stained-glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the floor. 

The guests turned their heads, captivated by the sight of the bride and her mother-in-law.

Whispers of admiration echoed through the chapel as you and Violet's steps synchronized with one another. 

You both moved with grace and poise, your bond visible to all. 

It was a moment of pure friendship and love, transcending traditional roles and expectations.

When you reached the altar, Violet placed your hand in Anthony's, closing your hands together as a symbol of unity. 

The chapel fell silent, and time seemed to stand still amidst the romance and pure joy in the air.

Anthony stood tall at the altar, his heart racing in his chest, his midnight-blue suit a stark contrast against the gleaming white surroundings. 

Handsome and dignified, he anxiously kept his gaze fixed on you, his bride. 

His palms dampened with anticipation, his mind swirling with a mixture of nerves and awe.

Gasps of admiration echoed through the hallowed space, and even the rustle of dresses and suits seemed to quiet in reverence to her ethereal beauty. 

Father Timothy, a wise and gentle elderly priest, smiled warmly, his eyes twinkling with mirth and faith as he welcomed you and initiated the ceremony.

The atmosphere was filled with a mixture of reverence and excitement as you both exchanged vows, your heartfelt words carrying through the sacred space.

 The words, "for better or for worse," hung in the air, a promise that resonated with the sincerity and depth of your love.

 Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes as you spoke your vows, your voice filled with raw emotion.

Anthony's voice shook with emotion as well, his eyes locked onto yours, your love a definite force binding you together. 

The sunlight, streaming through the windows, seemed to bathe you both in a celestial glow as if bestowing blessings upon your blessed union.

Father Timothy's voice rose and fell, his words weaving a tapestry of guidance and hope for your future. 

He spoke of strength, warmth, and companionship, reminding you of the loyalty and support you both had vowed to offer each other. 

 The Bridgertons looked on with unwavering support and love, tears glistening in their eyes, knowing that this day marked far more than the union of you two.

 It signified the merging of two families and the creation of a new beginning.

As the ceremony reached its crescendo, you and Anthony exchanged rings, solemnizing your commitment to one another.

 The diamond on your finger sparkled, catching the light like stars in a midnight sky.

While Anthony's gold wedding band gleamed, symbolizing the eternal circle of your love.

With each heartfelt word and sacred act, the chapel seemed to hum with the intensity of emotions emanating from every person present.

 The love felt within those walls was palpable - a love that transcended time, a love that would forever be etched in the hearts of everyone who witnessed it.

Finally, Father Timothy proclaimed, "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."

As the swelling music filled the air, signaling the end of the ceremony, you and Anthony joyfully sealed your vows with a passionate kiss. 

Cheers erupted from the congregation, filling the chapel with exuberance and celebration, their applause reverberating against the high ceilings and intricately carved arches. 

It was a moment of pure bliss, two souls basking in the enchantment of newfound union.

The chapel doors swung open with a gentle creak, and all eyes turned to gaze upon you as a newly married couple.

Y/n and Anthony Bridgerton.

 Your heart fluttered with excitement as you clung to Anthony's arm.

Feeling the weight of your future and the promise of a lifetime together. 

You had dreamt of this day for as long as you could remember, and now it had finally come true.

The sun filtered through the stained glass windows, casting a warm glow on the white walls of the chapel.

 Soft music played in the background as you and Anthony made your way down the aisle, your steps light and graceful. 

As you reached the doors, you paused for a moment, taking in the sight before you. 

The courtyard was bathed in sunlight, a sea of vibrant colors and delicate scents. 

The guests held flower petals in their hands, ready to shower you with love and good wishes.

You could hardly contain your excitement as you and Anthony stepped outside. 

The air was fragrant with the sweet smell of blossoms, and the sound of laughter and clapping filled the courtyard. 

As the guests threw flower petals towards you, you were both enveloped in a cascade of petals, a beautiful shower of nature's confetti.

You looked up, your eyes sparkling with joy.

 The sky seemed bluer than ever, a perfect backdrop to your special moment. 

You could feel the weight of tradition and happiness settle upon your shoulders, lifting your spirit into the realm of pure bliss.

 This was the start of your journey, a new chapter in your love story.

Together you made your way through the sea of flowers, your steps like a waltz, graceful, harmonious, and full of promise.

 The petals clung to your clothes, creating a tapestry of colors that seemed to dance with your every move.

 Each step you took felt solid, like building blocks for your future together.

As you reach the center of the courtyard, you let your fingers trail along the stone fountain, cool and inviting.

 The water shimmered under the sunlight, mirroring the happiness in your eyes. You turned to Anthony, your heart overflowing with love.

"Can you believe it?" you whispered, your voice filled with awe. "We're married. This is our forever."

Anthony smiled, his eyes locked with yours. 

"Yes, my love," he said softly. 

"This is just the beginning. And I vow to you, every day will be filled with the same satisfaction and devotion as today."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you knew at that moment that your happiness was boundless.

 You glanced around at your guests, your faces glowing with affection and admiration. 

It was then that you realized your love story was not just yours alone.

It was a tale shared with your closest friends and family.

[princess-ibri]

Ok @galacticnightsky123 ya talked me into it xD

Here's a redesign for the Live Action Snow White cuz goodness knows it needs all the help it can get

I wanted to keep the hallmarks of the classic dress but, in the words of the goldstandard of Disney Live Action Remakes "key it up a bit".

I tried to tie the dress more into a Renaissance time period while still keeping it fairytaley. I also wanted to give it something new to help set it apart from the original dress, ala Cinderella's with her butterlfies. So I decided to give Snow her own symbol, in universe.

Disney always gives her apple imagery but I felt that wouldn't make sense in the story itself, so I opted for a snowdrop flower, as that's actually her name in an earlier version of the Grimm's story.

I also did some deigns for her peasant dress, tying it back in more to the time period (was delighted to find the wooden shoes were period accurate) and I also designed a day-dress for her to wear as well. This would be something made later at the dwarf's cottage. A lot easier to run around the woods and clean in then that big old ball gown xD

Also I think I'd pull in a bit of the old Snow White stageplay as well, in this hypothetical rewrite, and have the Queen be pretending to send Snow White off to school, or maybe even pretending to send her to visit the Prince, with the intention of having her killed along the road, to explain why she's all dolled up in such a fancy dress.

Finally I couldn't resist doing a wedding dress for her, based of course on the old concept art from the og movie for the wedding scene we didn't get.

Hope ya'll enjoy! I don't know if I'll do more redesigns (maybe Belle's gown at least) but this was fun! Thanks for the suggestion!

[papergirllife]

Lee Taeyong (M)

‘I beg you don't embarrass me, motherfucker.’ But there's always exceptions when it comes to love right?

Taeyong x Bartender! Reader

Wordcount: 6.7k

Warnings: in this fic Taeyong has impulsive tendencies and physical aggression (not towards reader), light b*ndage, or*l play, slight or*l fixation, grinding, penetrati*on, Taeyong is very much down bad in this fic so lots of fluff.

The party is so boring, no one’s dancing even though they’re dressed to the nines in this extravagant hotel ballroom that could rival any celebrity’s expensive wedding, but instead all they’re doing is talking business, but the worst of them, are gossiping, and of course, to your downtrodden luck, you’re the gossip of the night.

“He’s going to be bored of her soon, I just know it, just look at her, so different from his ex and usual type.”

You’re not the type to be affected by being shit talked, however, you do have your worries, and frankly, heartbreak is one thing, but your ego? That’s another, you think to yourself as you sip on your glass of scotch. You sigh as you recall how you ended up in this predicament in the first place.

Maybe you should’ve thought through this more thoroughly, you think to yourself after seeing people go in and out of the supply closet, which is obviously a disguise for the illegal casino beneath the pub you’re working at, though, some people do really come for just drinks, but most of them are customers of both businesses under this roof and since you’ve been here for a week plus now, you recognise some of the regulars by now, but a man you don’t recognise is suddenly taking a seat right in front of you, usually customers prefer to go to your colleagues who have been here far longer and know what customers want, only helping out more on weekends where more people come in for a drink.

You rise from your stool, yes, one great thing about working here means workers don’t have to meaninglessly stand the whole night.

“You’re new here?” the man asks, and if you were being honest, he’s probably the prettiest man you’ve seen, but you screw a neutral expression on your face, one should never let their guard down around a man of all things.

“Yup, what can I get you to drink?” you ask as you take in his appearance, dripping in designer, a pretty loose blouse that accentuates his sharp facial features, earrings hanging off his earlobes, the designs feminine compared to what most men wear.

“Scotch on the rocks, please,” he says while he leans back to make himself comfortable, his arms crossed, usually clients would be looking around for someone to take home by now, the usual ‘pub guard’ scanning, you like to call it, but for the ones that want a drink before going down to gamble, they usually have this impatient look in their eyes, not that it affects you, your skin is as thick as a cheese wheel.

However, this man just sits and observes you. Is he part of the mafia and is scared that someone’s going to poison him at any moment? Or is he a cop and is trying to make you cave to tell him about the illegal casino downstairs? You’re just going to act like you had no idea, you’re not working in the casino itself, they can’t charge you on any terms as long as your boss has an alcohol licence, which is what they promised you when you interviewed, if they’re lying you’re gonna have to kick someone’s ass.

When you pass him his drink, he just sits back and takes a sip, his obnoxiously large eyes still looking at you, they’re pretty eyes, but you’ve never kept someone’s attention for this long, though, in most cases, you could walk away, like those creepy men on the subway, you’re not sure if this guy’s a creepy guy, he hasn’t tried grabbing your hand yet, if he did then you’re viable to call security, but he’s just watching you.

“So, what brings you here?” he asks, a hand mindlessly swirling the glass in his hand.

“Needed money, Seoul isn’t getting cheaper by the day,” you say, a general answer.

“How old are you?” he asks, prodding, why is he still prodding?

“In my early twenties, above the legal age to serve you drinks, what about you?” it’s time for you to prod, engage with customers a bit, your manager always tells you, be a little friendlier.

“28. You look older than early twenties, not that it’s a bad thing, of course,” he says, and with the way he says it, you know he doesn’t mean it in a demeaning way, not that you mind, you swore off men long ago, people always tell you there’s better fish in the sea, but all you manage to fish are trash.

“Thanks, I did my makeup to look older,” you reply as out of the corner of your eye you catch a group of men walking in the pub.

“Why?” he asks, oh men, they’re so innocent to the things women go through everyday.

“So people would take me seriously,” you answer honestly before you excuse yourself to make drinks for the customers, you don’t want your manager to think you’re slacking off within a month.

However, after only finishing their second order, your colleague says she’d take over from you, thinking the customers are her regulars, you move away without questioning.

So you go back to talking to the man, this time round, he finally reveals his name to be Taeyong, he even orders a second drink of your choice.

“A negroni?” he asks with the expression of a kicked puppy, smacking his lips distastefully before he requests for a glass of water.

“Wanted to try it out myself one of these days, but I was unsure, guess I’m quite certain I won’t ever try it now I guess,” you say with a shrug and a chuckle at how comical his expressions are, a little bit of betrayal and a tinge of shock, which makes him look more human in your eyes.

A new customer makes his way to the bar in the meantime, but Taeyong’s brows scrunch up when he sees you’re about to step away to serve the customer.

“Let other people handle him, you just stay here with me,” he suggests.

“Taeyong, as nice it is talking to you, I’d like to remind you that this is a strictly professional relationship, please respect the boundaries between a bartender and a customer-

“Missy, who do you think you are talking to him like that, do you know who he is-

“It’s fine Ms Choi, she’s right, I’m merely a regular, I need to respect her boundaries,” Taeyong says, cutting off your manager.

Your manager looks flabbergasted before she composes herself, bowing to Taeyong before she drags you away from the bar to the small staff area on the side.

“I'm warning you since you're new here, Mr Lee is a VIP, don't do anything stupid, he's not the type to pull dumb shit, so you have nothing to worry about. Alright, that's all, get back to work,” she says before dismissing you.

“If you're worried about getting less tips then you don't have to worry, I'll tip you accordingly for the time spent talking to me,” Taeyong says when you get back to your spot.

“It's not that, I’m getting paid anyways, tips are just an extra, I'm still getting paid a base salary talking to you and not doing anything, so a win is a win, I guess,” you brush off, it's not that busy today anyways.

“No, I'm a responsible customer, how about you make me another drink? One that you fancy?” Taeyong suggests.

Hence for the whole night, you indulge in the lengthy conversation the two of you share, and with every night he comes in, you find comfort in this growing friendship, the only hiccup being that he tips you too much money and he won't take no for an answer.

Months go by and the lines between you and Taeyong start to blur, but you're still quite hesitant, you haven't committed in a relationship since a long time ago and if you're honest, you don't know much about Taeyong other than the fact that he's a businessman, but of what sort of business? You don't have the foggiest idea.

Tonight is a Friday night, which means the bar is busier than usual. Surprisingly enough, Taeyong hasn't dropped in tonight, he doesn't come in every night, but he'd never miss Friday nights.

“Hey, can we get two martinis,” a customer asks, distracting you from your wandering thoughts, and you quickly get to work, but out of the corner of your eye, you see a familiar silhouette heading towards the direction of the fake storage room where the underground casino entrance is located, but the customers asked for something on top of their drinks and you were distracted once again.

After a few more customers, Jiun, a bottle girl and your fellow colleague, rushes to your area of the counter in distress.

“Table 5 wants 6 Coronas in a bucket but I think I just got my period, is it okay if you bring it to them?” she asks, and how can you say no to a woman who's in need of help?

“Sure thing, do you need a pad?” you ask, just in case, you're sure you have some in your locker if she doesn't.

“No, I have one on me, but thank you so much,” she says before scurrying off to the direction of the bathroom.

After putting together the order, you quickly make your way to the table with the customers’ drinks, placing down the bucket on the table.

“You new here, pretty girl? Never seen you around before?” one of the men at the table asks.

“Nope, just helping out my coworker,” you replied as you began to make your way back to the counter.

“What a shame, a pretty face like yours should be admired more, why grind behind a boring counter?” another asks, this one's nearer to you, standing up from his seat to get closer to you.

“Sorry, I have to get back to my job now,” you say, trying to excuse yourself, but the man grabs your arm, telling you to not rush and sit down and have a bottle.

Suddenly, you feel a presence behind you and then you feel someone pulling you by the strap of your money pouch.

“She said no, unhand her,” you'd recognise that voice anywhere, and looking to your side, you see Taeyong next to you, his usually round boba eyes now appearing in a sharp warning stare.

“Fuck off, dude, we were here first, shouldn't we have first dibs on her-

Before you could react to being demeaned in such a way, Taeyong's fist connects with his ugly face, and to your horror, both of them start fighting.

You quickly try pulling them apart but Taeyong pushes himself and the man out of your way, telling you to get security, you didn't want to leave his side, but thankfully, security were already making their way to your direction, blocked by a few drunken customers, his friend, takes the chance to jump in on the fight, and who are you to stand there and do nothing? Taeyong might be handling one guy on his own just fine, but you can't watch him get beaten to a pulp in your name, and you did the most logical thing you could think of by kicking the guy's head with your thick heeled boots and to your astonishment, he seems a bit disorientated by the ordeal, security finally made their way to Taeyong to pull the guy off him and escort him out the pub.

“Are you okay?” you ask Taeyong, but when you inspect his condition a bit closer, you cringe at his busted lip and bruised cheek.

However, before you could suggest accompanying him to the hospital, police arrive at the scene and next thing you know, you’re being escorted to the police station for questioning along with the asshole and Taeyong.

They finished up with you quick, they were a bit sceptical about Taeyong merely defending you, but you played it up a little by lying about how scared you were and maybe you chalked up a little bit on how his hands felt like they were everywhere on you, but it's the least you can do for Taeyong, and it's not like there were cameras anywhere.

“How long is he going to be questioned, officer?” you ask the policeman who had questioned you.

“Probably not long, seeing that his lawyer is here,” he points to the entrance, where a tall man in a suit walks in and follows the lead of an officer into the room Taeyong is being questioned in.

Knowing that he has a lawyer with him, you sigh a breath of relief and sit down on a nearby bench, the coolness of the plastic material digging into your skin, you regret wearing your beloved black velvet shorts now.

Fortunately, true to his words, Taeyong came out soon after, heading to a nearby desk to finish up some paperwork with his lawyer, so you get to your feet and head over to him.

“Brawling in your own pub is a new low, Lee, just let your boys handle shit like this next time,” the officer says.

“Wait, what do you mean your own pub?” the question flies out of your lips and Taeyong looks up, stunned, not knowing that you were still here.

“Leave the questions for later, just finish signing the papers and head out,” the officer orders, with a roll of your eyes, you stand right there, waiting for Taeyong to explain himself, his lawyer trying his best not to laugh.

“So? Care to explain yourself why you've been lying to me this whole time? Regular my ass,” you mutter the last part to yourself as you walk out the police station, cursing when you realise you don't have your coat with you, it's bearable now that it's creeping into June, but you've always preferred being warm.

“I'm going to get going, my cab's here,” his lawyer says, grasping this small window to leave before he gets caught up in a lover's quarrel, passing Taeyong something, to which you identify as car keys.

“Thank you, Johnny,” he says before turning to you with a sigh, his lips sit in a thin line, looking a bit lost at the sight of you, your usual smile wiped from your face as your pretty eyes stare daggers into his face, arms folded, and that's when he notices the goosebumps littering your arm.

“I didn't tell you that I was the boss because I wanted to get to know you without the label and pressure of me being your boss,” Taeyong explains as he shrugs off his coat to hang it on your shoulders before he directs you to a luxury SUV parked nearby.

“You could've told me sooner, asshole. And, why did you pull that shit tonight? You could've gotten yourself beaten to a pulp if I didn't literally step in and step on his head,” you lament, expressing your dissatisfaction with your entire body to the point of swinging your beloved Coach bag that you told Taeyong you were saving up weeks for, and Taeyong thinks you're so cute when you're angry, but he does have to make an effort to dodge the angry swing of your bag as he helps you climb up the passenger seat of his car.

“I know, and thank you for saving my ass but I need to shut the door and get going now, princess,” Taeyong says and does so before you could protest his usage of endearments when you're mad at him.

“How about we get some food before I drive you back to your place?” he suggest when he starts the car, seeing that you're now giving him the silent treatment, face turned to the side to look out to not see him, but the word ‘fine’ uttered from your lips has Taeyong breathing a sigh of relief as he confidently drives into a familiar street where he knows a convenience store is located.

After getting and heating up noodles and onigiris to share, the two of you take a seat in the empty store.

“Don't do embarrassing shit like this on my behalf ever again,” you warn before digging into your cup noodles, the spicy warm soup bringing instant comfort and familiarity after such a hectic night.

“It doesn't matter if it's on your behalf, that fucker deserved it,” Taeyong reasoned as he peels off the plastic wrapping of his onigiri, taking a huge bite of the delicious rice ball he was craving.

“Just don't do anything stupid anymore, if I couldn't handle myself I could've called security, you doing something stupid embarrasses me too, you know, I don't want to end up in the police station with you ever again, my friends are going to think I'm dating a crook,” you say offhandedly, but Taeyong’s eyes are as wide as saucers as he takes in your words.

“Wait, what do you mean dating?” he asks with the biggest smile on his face, onigiri placed on the side, suddenly he's not hungry anymore.

“Don't tell me you're not taking responsibility, I'm literally wearing your jacket and risked jail time for your ass,” you say so casually that Taeyong feels like he's having a fever dream, not even his best fantasies would he ever depict himself being labelled as your significant other.

“No, never, I'm definitely taking full responsibility, and I promise, no more doing stupid shit to embarrass you, I swear,” Taeyong pledges, his hand coming up to salute you, the goofy gesture finally getting the first laugh out of you for the night.

“Though, to prevent me from doing stupid shit, I have a proposition, you have a marketing degree right? I know you said you're against working for big corps cause you hate how they practically steal money off of people's needs, but I do have a few establishments, restaurants of a few cuisines, that need a proper marketer to oversee and promote, so if you're not opposed to letting go your bartending job…” and before Taeyong could finish, you were quick to say yes.

Boy, do the days go by so fast after that, your new job is mostly online, you have two coworkers, a graphic designer –Mark Lee and a social media manager, or better known as the restaurants’ staffs’ biggest fear, Lee Haechan. A small department compared to the two finance departments, one for clean money and one for dirty money, but if anyone asks, you'd say you didn’t have a clue.

Starting out a new job wasn't easy, nor was it too difficult, being a ‘quite fresh’ graduate meant you still recall plenty of the knowledge you've studied in college, but the huge funds you had was of great assistance, which brings you to this party hosted by his friend.

Taeyong said he wanted to bring Yuta, his omakase chef who had just earned his first three Michelin stars under his new restaurant, thanks to your hard work in marketing to attract new rich customers and food critics.

However, people on the top of the food chain always had a reputation of being absolute dickheads.

“She’s literally younger than him, his ex was older by five years at least, and she was one of us, I did some digging, this girl isn’t even from one of the SKY universities,” one of them comments, and it’s true, you’re not that smart and you weren’t born with a silver spoon in your mouth, but what has you freezing in your spot is what comes out of their mouths next.

“I heard he got into a fight at his own bar for her and ended up getting detained for a bit, she’s just going to have him end up locked up if he stays with her, people like her bring nothing but bad omens.”

“Don’t tell me you’re letting their words get to you,” Yuta says, popping out of nowhere beside you.

“Even the strongest trees waver under the pressure of the winds, Yuta,” you say before finishing your glass.

Yuta and you have grown close after you had worked closely to promote the restaurant, and he values your opinion of which presentation you prefer, which is rare for chefs, especially the ones you've worked with with many years of experience and a reputation.

“Yeah, but who gives a fuck about some shitty pretentious university, that shit don’t matter as long as you land a job, plus, their faces are so botched, you look way better, Taeyong would never pick these shitty pick mes over you,” Yuta comments way too loudly for your comfort, but thankfully the girls were loudly squealing at the fact that their friend is finally here, welcoming her, unbeknownst of Yuta’s lethal words.

“Pick who over my sweetheart?” Taeyong asks, a hand coming to rest around your waist.

“I said you wouldn't, but someone’s doubting after hearing a few snarky remarks,” Yuta says, which has you freezing in your spot, Taeyong’s always been very protective and defensive about you, you don’t want to witness him fucking someone up tonight at such a prestigious party.

“Yeah, trust me, man to man, he’s definitely just fucking her on the down low, he’d never go for someone lower class, she’s most probably just a cheap fuck,” you look over Yuta’s shoulder to see a man standing next to one of the girls who were talking shit about you, two people were blocking their sight of your little group, so they hadn’t seen Taeyong coming back.

And to your horror, Taeyong leaves your side, walking up to the little clique.

“Oh god, he’s going to embarrass me,” you say with a groan before you quickly follow Taeyong as fast as you can in your Louboutins.

With a swing and the cracking of bones, you see the guy hunched over immediately, cursing as he holds his bloodied nose in his hand, when you finally got to the scene, the music had been cut, the place drowning in shocked silence no thanks to your heels, sue you, but you didn’t expect to need to run tonight, it was just two feet but these heels are so unwalkable.

“Don’t let me catch you assholes talking about my girlfriend ever again, you don’t want to know what I can do beyond breaking your nose,” Taeyong threatens as the guy quickly cowers on his spot on the floor.

“I wouldn’t mess with him if I were you,” someone says as they walk towards the scene, his name is Woozi, Taeyong had told you about the host of this party being a close friend of his who he had helped out when he had just taken over his father’s empire, you had no idea how much that meant to Woozi, but seeing them interacting now, you understand that if you mess with one of them, the other one immediately retaliates, “you wouldn’t want to go against him or me,” he says, elaborating no further, you hadn’t ask Taeyong what Woozi’s empire entails, but you think the less you know, the better.

“No, no, please, I was stupid, I’m sorry, miss,” he apologises to you before quickly escaping the scene, the girls leaving as well, tails tucked between their legs as they scramble, it’s quite an amusing scene.

“Thank you for standing up for me, Woozi, it’s nice to finally meet the host of this amazing party,” you say before sticking out your hand for him to shake.

“The honour’s all mine,�� Woozi says as he takes your hand, “and nice to finally meet you, it’s nice to finally put a face to the person hyung’s been gushing about nonstop,” Woozi teases, which then earns him a light playful slap from Taeyong.

“Gushing is perfectly fine, I just wish he’d stop embarrassing himself and me on my behalf,” you say with an annoyed sigh as you turn to stare daggers into your boyfriend.

“Oh come on, I couldn’t just stand them and let them belittle you, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t do anything?” Taeyong retorts with a sheepish expression, he knows you don’t like it when he goes out of his way for you to this point, but he couldn’t help it, he loves you so dearly.

“You’re just proving them right by reacting, Yong, we talked about this,” you say, exasperated as you toss your arms up in defeat, you don’t know how to get this through his head at all.

“Proving what? Baby,” Taeyong calls out as you take off to the exit too, you have decided that tonight has been too much for you, you're tired of all this glitz and glamour with this thick layer of utter bullshit with their grade school playground gimmicks.

“Help me keep an eye on Yuta, I need to talk to her,” Taeyong quickly says to Woozi before he picks up the pace to follow you, ending up out at the lobby of the hotel, you were talking to the valet, and he distantly hears you asking for the keys.

“Baby, come on, don’t be mad, I’m sorry, I was stupidly acting on impulse, you know how defensive I get when it comes to you,” Taeyong reasons, but you keep quiet, trying to compose your thoughts, your car that you share with Taeyong pulls up, and immediately Taeyong tries taking the keys from the valet.

“You drank,” you say before pushing his hand away to retrieve your key, you did too, but Taeyong’s alcohol tolerance is much lower than yours, god knows he shouldn’t be driving.

Taeyong’s heart warms when he registers the chastise from you, you still care about him, you still love him, and so with a love stricken smile on his face and a slight bounce in his step, he's a giggly drunk so this happens all the time, though when he gets in the car, he worries once more when he sees how you chose to not play any music nor talk whilst driving.

When the two of you finally reached home, you immediately retreated into your shared bedroom, not sparing Taeyong a glance, not even when he offered to remove your heels for you.

Taeyong sighs to himself as he follows you upstairs, you had locked yourself in the bathroom as of now, probably cleaning your face free off makeup, he knows how you much you hate the texture of it on your skin despite loving to doll up, and he can’t blame you, even bb cream feels a tad bit too thick for Taeyong when you had applied it on him for fun.

Taeyong quickly changes into his house clothes and leaves the bedroom, just in case you need more space, he never wants to intrude when you want some alone time, even if he craves your affection, you’ll come around soon, you always do, Taeyong reassures himself.

When Taeyong was about to turn on the telly to kill some time, he hears you walking down the stairs, turning back to look over the sofa, Taeyong’s jaw drops at the sight of you.

Adorned in a beautiful lingerie set with a delicate crystal chain hanging around your upper left thigh, your face without a smidge of product, but he thinks you look best like this, but what finally has his cock twitching was what you had in your hold, a familiar pair of handcuffs.

“Sweetheart…” Taeyong mutters as thoughts of endless possibilities of how the night would play out runs through his head, but you silence him with the tip of your finger placed on his lips.

“Just let me do my thing, sit back and enjoy,” you say before you drop to your knees, your sultry eyes watching Taeyong’s every expression, and the sight of his Adam's apple bobbing has you cracking a smile as you lock his hand into the handcuffs.

Taeyong feels like he’s being hypnotised when your eyes stay on his whilst sliding his pants and boxers down, he almost didn’t feel his cock twitching from the cold air, but before he could even register the cold in its entirety, you take him into your mouth, the sudden action has Taeyong cursing, he would’ve bucked into your mouth if it wasn’t for your hands holding his hips down, he breathes a slightly frustrated sigh from the restriction, but like the little minx you are, you quickly hollow your cheeks after sinking in deeper, the tip of his length hitting the back of your throat.

“Fuck!” Taeyong curses as he grows tense at your ministrations, he swears he almost came right then and there when he felt the constriction of your throat, his fingers turn white from grasping against the cuffs to anchor himself.

You take in the sight of him struggling to not cum and take pity on him, your mouth leaving his cock with a pop with a sly smile on your lips before your hands grasp him tightly, making sure he doesn’t cum too soon, the pressure sending a jolt down Taeyong’s spine, his usual round boba eyes now hooded but he scrunches them shut on impulse when you push back the foreskin, exposing the sensitive tip, giving it quick kitten licks before you suck on it like a lollipop, your tongue placed underneath his tip and you suck hard, and that’s when Taeyong goes over the edge, his body seizing up, you quickly take him down your throat, smiling around the edges of his cock when you feel the familiar warmth running down your throat, you keep him in your mouth until he stops, pulling off of him with a slight giggle when you see his chest heaving, limp against the couch, all from your undoing, and what a power trip that gives you, a rich and powerful man succumbing to your actions.

“How are you holding up, baby? Need a break?” you ask as you straddle him, tossing over your leg to situate yourself perfectly between his thighs, the lace material coming into contact with his cock, twitching back to life when it feels the slight warmth and moisture of your heat.

“More, please,” Taeyong utters as he tries his best to move his hips, and so you indulge him, rotating your hips until he hardens underneath you again.

You hear the clinks of his cuffs when you stand up, ceasing all physical contact, giggling when you hear him beg for you to come back, but he goes mute when he sees you shift the crotch of your lingerie to the side, climbing back into his embrace.

“You’re gonna ride me all dressed up prettily, sweetheart?” Taeyong asks, head tilted to the side as he takes in the sight of you, eyes locked onto his as you stare down at him, and he can’t help himself, lowering his head to litter kisses on your arm as he inhales your scent, call him a madman, but your scent might as well be as addictive as nicotine itself, the way he can’t seem to get enough of it.

Taeyong then shifts his head to the valley of your breasts, mouthing at your cleavage, pulling down the flimsy coverage by its thin straps to gain access to your bare chest, goosebumps rise on your skin when he finally takes a nipple into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks on it like his life depends on it, like he really wants to eat you up, the action has you chasing for more pleasure, grinding your clit on the tip of his length before you can't take it anymore, reaching down with shaking hands to position him to your core, moaning his name as you finally slide down, slowly taking him inside you inch by inch, Taeyong's succumbed to the sweet feeling of your warm walls, giving up on worshipping your boobs, instead he's gripping onto your hips hard as he focuses on being engulfed in your heat, he's kind of slobbering on your right boob, but you find it arousing, the way he's so lost in pleasure, his eyes shut, brows furrowed as he mutters a string of sweet nothings as you make your way down to the hilt.

An almost delirious smile makes its way onto Taeyong’s face when you squeeze around him, head dipped low as he curses from your actions, you tilt his chin up with your fingertips, ego inflating at the sight of how wrecked he is and you barely even started.

“It’s been so long and you’re still reacting this way,” you noted as you caressed the side of his face.

“For you? Forever,” Taeyong says with full honesty, eyes overflowing with lust as he confesses, looking so vulnerable, underneath you like you’re his god, and in a way, you might just be, if Taeyong had it his way, he’d build a palace just for you and dedicate his life to you.

“I know,” you say with a row of your hips, cursing in unison with your lover when you feel him penetrate the deepest parts of your heat, that sensitive spot that has your toes curling.

Spurred on by Taeyong’s ever vocal devotion towards you, you raise your hips before slamming down once again, and the moan of your name escaping his lips has you doing it again and again, the quick drag of his length against your flesh has the whole house filled with the sound of sex resonating within its walls, you’re grateful Taeyong’s unit is the penthouse, because Taeyong’s always been so vocal in bed, his voice pitched much higher than it usually is, and as much as you revel in the feeling of people admiring your man, you don’t want anyone else hearing how beautiful he sounds when he’s laid bare underneath you.

With how fast you’re going, you’re sure there’s indentations of the sofa’s legs on the expensive wooden flooring, but fuck it, you’re so close, but you’re to blame for that, clenching on him every time you sink down, just so you could see the way he tries the very hardest not to cum way too early, not that you’d mind, it happened many times before, and you still find it so hot.

Deciding to not prolong the torture any longer, you reach down to rub quick circles on your clit as you grind the tip of his cock to that one spot deep inside, that perfect 12 o'clock angle that has your legs turning jelly, with a hiss of Taeyong’s name and a spasm of your walls from the shocks of pleasure coursing through your entire body, you finally reach your peak, your body sagging in sweet relief, your sensitive nipples feel so good against his skin, but after having a quick moment to yourself, you quickly slide off of him with a loud squelch that got a giggle out of you even in this heated state, getting down on your knees and take him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and suck, lips stretched, with his dick lodge at the back of your throat when you see his legs buckle and soon after, splashes of his warm release drip down your throat once again, when the flow ceases, you pull off of him with a deafening pop.

“Good boy,” you say after getting up brushing his cheek softly with those tender eyes that make Taeyong weak in the knees, only he gets to see this tender side of you, and it drives him mad sometimes, that it’s only reserve for him, of everyone you could choose to dote on, you chose him, and he hopes you’ll keep choosing him till the end of time.

With a quick click, he feels the cuffs being loosened and tossed away, instantly his arms are around your figure, pulling you into a deep kiss, the taste of himself on your lips spurs him on, but he wills himself to get his shit together, he knows you must be tired from doing all the work tonight, and there’s something that needs to be addressed soon, and so he pulls away from your lips, his hand placed on your right cheek, thumb brushing against the curvature of your cheek bone.

“Do you feel better now? Are you still angry at me or do I need to do more than letting you ravage my body like that?” Taeyong jokes with a laugh, but he immediately sobers up when he sees you sigh and climb off his sturdy legs.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten mad like that,” you say as you cringe as you recall how you acted out earlier today, you know no one’s perfect, but when you slip up, it reminds you too much of your own mother, throwing a tantrum and running away, and you swear you’d never be like her, but at the end of the day, you’re a work of progress, and fortunately, Taeyong understands.

“Do you want to tell me what triggered you?” Taeyong asks, his tone gentle, he never directs his aggression at you, no matter the situation, he loves you too much to ever even think of doing that.

“They said some things, and they’re not entirely wrong-” but you’re being cut off by an irritated sigh, Taeyong hates it when you demean yourself this way. “Before you get mad, hear me out, they said how I’d always get you in trouble, and when you think about it, they’re not wrong, I literally landed you in jail the first night we got together, Yong, and the shit they said about me not being from one of the prestigious universities, they’re not wrong about that, it’s just facts, I’m just not part of this elite social ladder, that isn’t the point. The point is that I feel like I’m tarnishing your reputation and in relation, your businesses,” you finish off with another sigh, you haven’t been sighing this much these days, so this feels oddly familiar in the worst ways possible, Taeyong’s been making your life more comfortable every single day, but you on the other hand, are contributing to his troubles.

“Don’t let them get to your head, you’re literally bringing in so much profit for me, sweetheart, next time I’ll throw a party just to show everyone how our numbers are doing, it’ll blow them away, also, you’re doing all that without a goddamn degree from those snobbish colleges. Lastly, you don’t get me in trouble, it’s just part and parcel of protecting the person I love, something they’d never understand with how shallow they are, don’t let people with an EQ of 0 determine how you live, and I know what you want to say,” Taeyong says when he sees you open your mouth to protest, “I’ll try my best to not get in trouble and keep my temper in check, but I do hope you understand that if it isn’t me, I’m just gonna have someone else do the dirty job of beating them up,” Taeyong says, compromising, that’s how his father and mother did it, he always believes that’s the key to a long lasting marriage, which is something he’d want with you in the near future.

“Fine,” you say with a sigh, but he sees the ghost of a smile on your face as you lean down to rest your head on his broad shoulder, littering kisses from his neck to the end of his shoulder, Taeyong lets himself bask in your affection for a bit, knowing that you thrive off giving physical affection, but he's a clean freak at the end of the day, getting the both of you clean is still a priority.

“Come, let’s have a bath, my love,” Taeyong suggests as he carries you the direction of your bedroom, and you let him, soaking up the feeling of being loved, maybe Taeyong’s right, nothing matters when you have a love as cosmic as the one you share with Taeyong.