#p: marvel cast

[vonlipvig]

you know they fucked up when their movie's rating graph starts looking like this. you've ruined a perfectly good movie, is what you've done. look at it, it's got lazy generative AI art.

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

Sex on the Beach

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Suncream...cum, is there a difference? Bucky is painting you either way.

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: bratty reader with Bucky doing his best at taming, teasing, oral sex (m), bucky fucking your tits, p in v sex, sarge/good girl kink, fingering, creampie, Bucky getting his own back at the end.

A/N: Thank you Daisy @firefly-graphics for this banner!

As Bucky sprawled out across the plush double sun lounger, his chiseled physique on full display in nothing but a pair of well-fitted swim trunks, he exuded an air of pure tranquility. The Ray-ban sunglasses you had thoughtfully gifted him just before the trip now shielded his eyes from the late morning sun's gentle rays, which danced across his lightly tanned skin. Every muscle in his body was completely relaxed, not a hint of tension to be found, as he teetered on the edge of drifting off into a blissful morning nap.

The lounger was situated on the expansive deck of Tony's luxurious Hamptons beach house, mere steps away from the glistening, azure waters of the pool and the endless horizon of the ocean beyond. The expertly positioned fencing surrounding the property offered the two of you a welcome sense of privacy, shielding you from prying eyes while still allowing the soothing sounds of the waves crashing against the nearby shoreline to reach your ears.

When you had first packed for the weekend getaway, the weather forecast had called for nothing but rain and stormy conditions, and you had almost left your vibrant yellow bikini behind, certain that there would be no opportunity to don it. However, Bucky had insisted that you bring it along, and now you were endlessly grateful that you had heeded his advice, eagerly anticipating the chance to join him in soaking up the unexpected sunshine.

As you emerged from the pool, the cool, refreshing water droplets glistening on your skin, you couldn't help but marvel at the unseasonably warm weather. The sun's golden rays felt almost soothing against your unclad flesh, a stark contrast to the chill of the pool you had just left. With a towel wrapped snugly around your waist, you cast a playful, impish glance over at Bucky, who hadn't moved from his reclined position on the nearby lounge chair, sunglasses perched on his nose. A mischievous smirk crept across your lips as you bent down and scooped up a handful of the chlorinated pool water, your fingertips lightly skimming the surface. Carefully, you tiptoed over to where Bucky lay, the water sloshing gently in your cupped palms. 

Though his eyes were shielded by dark lenses, you knew Bucky's heightened senses were ever alert, a byproduct of his turbulent past living in fear - whether under HYDRA's control or on the run. Sure enough, as you neared him, one of Bucky's eyes snapped open, his body instantly tensing, ready to spring into action at the first sign of perceived danger. But when he saw it was merely you, a playful glint in your eye and a splash of water in your hands, his posture relaxed, and he sat up, the sunglasses sliding down his nose as he fixed you with a playful glare, silently daring you to make your move.

“Whatcha doin’ there, doll?”

You flicked the remaining water droplets in your hand at him but they barely reached his bare chest.

“That the best you got?” he taunted, his piercing gaze daring you to try again.

“Not even close,” you replied with a mischievous grin, letting the towel slip just slightly as you pretended to consider your next move.

Bucky raised a single, dark eyebrow, his playful glare still firmly in place. “You think you can just come at me with that pathetic splash? I’d be ashamed if I were you,” he goaded, his deep, rumbling voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Unable to resist the challenge, you let out a bright, carefree laugh that seemed to dance in the air around you. “Oh really? Is that a challenge, Barnes?” you retorted, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you prepared to retaliate, the tension between you electric.

“Depends on what your idea of a challenge is. Because if it involves getting me wet, you might just succeed.” He smirked, leaning back slightly as if preparing for something.

You laughed, sitting down beside him, letting your wet skin rub against his as you rubbed the towel along your arms. “Do my sunscreen?” you asked, looking over your shoulder at him and batting your eyelids coquettishly.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he shuffled closer. “Sunscreen, huh? You sure that's all you need me for?” he asked huskily.

He was halfway through a playful eye roll when your hands moved to the back of your neck, swiftly undoing the halterneck string of your bikini top to reveal your soft breasts. “Don’t want to risk getting tan lines,” you smirked at his widening eyes.

“Of course not,” he mumbled, shaking his head at your antics.

“So you gonna help me or not?”

“Get over here.” He wrapped his arm around your waist and hoisted you into his lap. With his flesh arm he flicked open the bottle of sunscreen, making the same popping sound that you associated with him opening a bottle of lube and you felt a shiver through your body, your skin erupting in goosebumps.

Bucky noticed immediately, there wasn’t anything he missed when it came to your body’s responses. “Cold?” he smirked.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as Bucky pulled you closer, his chest pressed flush against your back, his breath tickling the nape of your neck. Despite the warm fall air, a shiver of anticipation still rippled down your spine at the feel of his body against yours.

“N-No,” you breathed out, your voice a breathless whisper. “Just a bit… sensitive.”

Bucky's eyes darkened further, a wicked smirk playing on his lips as he felt your shiver and heard the huskiness in your voice. He knew the effect he had on you, and he loved it.

He leaned in, his voice low and deep, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke. "Sensitive, hmm?" he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. One of his hands drifted downwards, tracing a slow, tortuous path along your bare hip.

"Mmm, don't forget the front," you moaned.

Bucky's smirk grew even more wicked at the sound of your moan, his chest rumbling with a low, appreciative growl. He shifted you in his lap so that you were straddling him, your legs on either side of his hips, giving him full access to your front.

He leaned back, the sunlight casting a glow around his head like a halo, his eyes roving hungrily over your body, taking in every inch of bare skin.

"Are you just going to sit and stare? Or you want me to get burned?”

Bucky chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he met your gaze, his hands still resting on your hips.

"Patience, doll. I'm just admiring the view," he teased, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your hips, sending prickling shivers through your body.

Slowly, he began to apply the sunscreen on your torso, his hands moving in sensual, deliberate circles, covering every inch of your skin in the creamy liquid.

Bucky's hands slowed as they reached the curves of your breasts, his palms hovering mere inches away, as if reluctant to touch them just yet. His eyes locked onto yours, his gaze dark and hungry. He swallowed hard, his breath coming out in a shaky exhale.

"You don't know how hard it is to keep my hands off you, doll," he murmured, his voice gruff, his hands slowly moving closer, his thumbs just barely brushing against the swell of your tits.

You leaned forward so your hardened nipples grazed his chest. "Who said you had to?”

Bucky's breath hitched at the feel of your nipples gliding across his chest, a low, guttural moan rumbled in his throat. He shifted his hips, his growing hardness pressing against you through the thin fabric of his swim trunks.

"Mmm, doll. You're a damn tease, you know that?" he panted, his fingers digging into your hips, his thumbs still brushing against your sensitive skin, teasing but not quite touching where you wanted.

"Who's teasing?" You asked innocently, pushing your ass down into the growing bulge in his trunks.

Bucky's eyes darkened, his expression shifting from playful to downright feral, the veins in his arms bulging as his muscles tensed. He let out a growl, his voice deep and strained.

"Oh, you're playing with fire now doll," he warned, his hands gripping your hips tighter, his body quivering with barely restrained desire. He bit his lip, trying to hold back, but it was taking all his willpower not to throw you down onto the lounger and take you right then and there.

"The only fire I'm feeling right now is that giant ball in the sky that's unevenly tanning my boobs right now," you pouted.

Bucky let out another soft growl.

"Aww, did I make you mad?" You put on a baby voice.

Bucky huffed out a sardonic laugh, his fingers absently tracing patterns on your hip. He was far too distracted by the feel of your body on top of his to be truly angry.

"Mad? Nah, doll. Just struggling to control myself with you being so damn frisky right now." He raised an eyebrow, his eyes locking onto yours, the heat in his gaze undeniable. "Question is, what’re you gonna do about it?”

"Want me to kiss it better?" You leaned forward with pouty lips.

Bucky's eyes darkened at the sight of your pouting lips, his resolve slowly crumbling. This teasing game you were playing was getting torturous, but damn if he wasn't loving it. He reached up, his hand cupping your chin, his thumb tracing along your lower lip.

"Mmm, I think I might need a little more than just a kiss, doll. You're being a brat and you know it.”

"Ask nicely.”

Bucky bit his lip, his breathing growing heavier as your defiance only seemed to fuel his desire. His hand threaded through your hair, pulling you closer until your faces were mere inches apart.

"Please, doll," he said huskily, his voice low and thick with lust. "Stop being such a damn tease and let me have you.”

"Only if you're good, Sarge." You bit your lip seductively.

Bucky's breath hitched at the sound of the nickname, a low moan rumbling in his chest. You knew how much he loved it when you called him that, and the effect it had on him was always immediate.

"Doll, you know damn well I'm always good," he said huskily, his eyes locked on your lips as you bit them seductively, his hand in your hair gently pulling your head back, exposing your neck. "But today, you're going to need to follow my orders.”

Your walls fluttered with excitement at his words and you bit back a moan.

Bucky smirked at the reaction he saw in your eyes, his gaze raking over your body possessively. He could see the effect his words had on you, and it only made him more possessive. He knew your weakness, just like you knew his.

"So obedient," he murmured, his mouth hovering over your neck, his lips just barely grazing your skin. "But I want to hear you say it. What’s the safe word?”

You whined against his ear, wiggling your ass in his lap. "Oklahoma.”

Bucky let out a harsh breath, his eyes fluttering closed for just a second as your body moved against his in his lap. He took a moment to collect himself before opening his eyes, a smug look on his face as he looked at you.

"Good girl," he praised, his lips finally claiming your neck, his mouth hot against your skin. "Now, why don't you get on your knees and show me how good you can be for me?”

"No, thank you.”

Bucky's eyes widened slightly at your defiant reply. No one disobeyed him, especially not when he had laid out clear instructions.

He chuckled, but there was an edge to it, a hint of a warning.

"Doll, you can’t be defying my orders already. I know you know the punishment for being a disobedient little brat. Is that what you want? A reminder of who’s in charge here?”

"You're so cute when you try and control me, even though we both know that I'm in charge," you smirked.

A deep rumble left Bucky's throat at your words. He knew you were playing, pushing his buttons and testing his patience, but it was getting harder and harder to hold back.

"Oh really, doll? You think you're in charge?" he purred, his eyes darkening as he held your gaze, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"Maybe I need to remind you who you belong to.”

"Do it, I dare you.”

Bucky's eyes flashed with a predatory gleam at your challenge. It was as if you were dangling a steak in front of a lion, and expecting it not to pounce. You were playing with fire, and he was itching to teach you a lesson.

In a swift, fluid movement, Bucky shifted your position on his lap so that you were lying back on the lounger. He hovered over you, his body pressed against yours, trapping you beneath him.

"Oh doll, I'm gonna do more than just remind you," he growled. "You're gonna do as you're told.”

"Yeah?" you asked breathily.

Bucky smirked at the breathlessness in your voice. It was clear that you were already affected, your body responding to his proximity, his touch. He brought his face closer to yours, his lips hovering just millimeters from your ear. His voice was rough and low, carrying a threat that made your heart skip.

"Yep. I'm gonna teach you a damn lesson in obedience, doll. And you're gonna love every second of it.”

"Oh, am I?”

Bucky leaned back to look at you, his eyes raking over your body, taking in your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. He could see the effect he was having on you, and it only served to make him more confident.

"Damn right you are," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I can see it in your eyes, doll. You love it when I get all dominant, when I take charge. And I love it when I have you all submissive and pliant, begging for more.”

You could only whimper in response, your body consumed by the arousal and promise of his cock.

Bucky smirked, noticing your inability to form a response. He could easily see how turned on you were, how badly you wanted him to take you. His eyes darkened with a mixture of lust and satisfaction. Slowly and sensually he rolled his hips against your core.

"See, doll? You can try to play the brat, but deep down, you know what you want. You want me to be in charge, to take control and make you feel good. And that's exactly what I'm gonna do.”

"Good luck... with... that." You wanted to continue with your little game but his proximity had your resolve faltering. 

Bucky chuckled at your attempt to keep up this charade, but he could see that your resolve was weakening. Your body was responding to his proximity, betraying your act of nonchalance.

He leaned down, his lips grazing your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"Doll, you forget who you're dealing with," he murmured. "I've got you all figured out, and I know all your weaknesses. You can try to resist, but deep down I know you're craving my touch, begging for it, in fact.”

"So what are you gonna do about it?" you challenged softly.

Bucky's eyes darkened at your challenge, his smile turning into a predatory grin. He knew damn well what he was going to do, and he was aching to show you just how in control he was.

"Oh doll, don't tempt me," he warned, his voice low and husky. "I can think of plenty of things I could do to a disobedient little brat like you. But I think you'll find it hard to keep up this act when I've got you pleading and begging.”

"Oh please, I can do this all day.”

Bucky chuckled at your defiant words, taking in your flushed cheeks and breathless state. He could see the effect he was having on you, the way your body was responding to him, even as you tried to keep up your act.

"Is that so, doll?" he taunted. "You think you can keep this up all day, huh? We'll just see about that.”

For the first time since you started this game, you held your tongue. You welcomed whatever punishment he had in store for you... you craved it.

Bucky smirked at your sudden silence, sensing the shift in your attitude. It was clear that you were finally submitting to him, and he loved it. He could see the desire in your eyes, the need for him to take control and give you what you wanted.

"Looks like someone finally realized who's in charge," he murmured, his hands roaming over your body, tracing gentle patterns on your skin, his touch both soothing and dominating.

"Ready to be a good girl and do as you're told?”

"No," you breathed softly.

Bucky chuckled at your persistence in playing this game, his eyes darkening with a mixture of annoyance and desire. He knew you were testing his limits, seeing how far you could push him before he snapped.

"What do you mean, no? If I want my dick in your mouth, it's going in your mouth whether you like it or not.”

You shuddered with anticipation. Of course, you wanted his dick in your mouth. Bucky smirked, noticing the shiver that ran through your body. He could see the desire in your eyes, the way your tongue darted out to moisten your lips, betraying your own need for him.

"I see that got your attention," he murmured. "You want me to use that pretty mouth of yours, don't you?”

You struggled slightly under his weight. Bucky laughed at your attempts to move under him, the sound deep and throaty. He knew he had you right where he wanted you, trapped beneath him. 

"Struggle all you want, but you're not going anywhere until you're dripping with my cum.”

Bucky chuckled at the pout on your lips, but he allowed you to prop yourself up on the lounger, his knees still trapping your hips on either side. The position he had you in was intimate, his cock was almost pressed against your face, his eyes locked on yours, his hands resting on either side of your shoulders, caging you in.

Bucky loved having you like this, so vulnerable beneath him but his body completely at your mercy.

Bucky's eyes darkened as he watched you lick your lips, the gesture driving him wild. He could see the need in your eyes.

"You want it, don't you?" he asked, his voice heavy with desire.

"Only because you want it so bad," you smirked, your eyes roving over his throbbing length. He had pulled it out of his swim trunks, the veins full and pulsating readily. "Look at you, can't wait, can you? Need my lips around your pretty cock?”

Bucky nearly lost his breath at your words, his body shuddering with need. You knew just how to play him, how to push all his buttons.

"Damn doll," he groaned, his voice ragged with desire, momentarily forgetting his character. "You talk like that, and you're gonna make me lose control. But yes, I need your lips. I need your mouth on me. I need you, doll.”

You softened a little, wanting to give in without a fight, to give him what he craved. But a tiny voice in your mind reminded you that this would be so much more fun.

A slow smirk formed on your lips. "Make me," you said with as much defiance as you could muster.

Bucky's eyes darkened with annoyance and desire at your disobedience once again. He loved the challenge. The way you tested him pushed him to the edge, but it was hard to hold back when you were so goddamn sexy.

"Oh doll, are you really gonna push me like that?" he gritted out, his voice strained as his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Slowly, he reached out and made a fist in your hair and moved your face right up to his with his firm grip. "Head back, mouth open, tongue out... now.”

Slowly but petulantly, you complied, letting him slide his head onto your tongue. Sensually, you rolled it around the edge before kissing the tip. You loved seeing the way his muscles contracted with pleasure.

Bucky's head fell back slightly, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily, a moment of ecstacy coursing through him.

"That's it, that's my good girl. Now you remember what to do if it's too much?”

You nodded, tapping his thigh three times, making him praise you again. You took him into your mouth again, lips forming an O. Narrowing your eyes, you looked up at him with a hint of rebelliousness and daring.

Bucky's eyes darkened at your gaze, his breath hitching in his chest. He wasn't used to anyone giving him this level of sass, and it was driving him crazy. 

"I see you're still feeling mouthy. Looks like I'll have to find a way to keep that pretty little mouth of yours occupied.”

You decided to show him how mouthy you could be, letting him slip further into your mouth.

Bucky's head slumped back, his breath coming in short bursts as you teased him. Damn, you were so damn good at this, and it was driving him wild.

"That's it, doll. Just like that, that's my girl. You know just what I like.”

You tried to answer him, but you couldn't form any coherent words with the way he filled your mouth.

"What's that, doll?" he chuckled despite his ragged breath, a hint of pride in his voice. He loved making you speechless, especially with your mouth full of him.

"Can't talk now, can you? You look so pretty with your mouth all full.”

You moaned, sending vibrations straight up his aching cock. The way he tasted always turned you on and your pussy was begging for attention. You squeezed your legs together to offer yourself some relief from the throbbing between your thighs.

Bucky groaned, your moans resonating through him, shooting straight through his body. It was like a jolt of electricity to his nerves, and he had to grit his teeth to keep control. 

"Ah darlin’, you know how that mouth of yours is affecting me," he breathed out, his eyes darting down to your squirming form. "Damn doll, you look like you're aching for something.”

Finally, you sank down all the way, your nose brushing the short strands of hair on his skin for a moment before pulling off with a gasp, a long string of spit connecting your lips to the tip of his cock.

Bucky could hardly think straight with the way you were working him over. It was a good thing he was sitting down because he wasn't sure if he'd be able to stand right now. 

"Damn doll," he breathed. "That mouth of yours is something else. But did I tell you you could stop?”

"It's my turn, Sarge.”

Bucky's eyes darkened, his breath hitching in his chest at the title. Something about you calling him by his rank made him a little weak.

"I don't think so, doll," he warned. "You know who's in charge here, and I haven't given you permission to take it your turn yet. You gotta earn it. You're gonna follow my orders.”

You whimpered softly, so turned on now that you couldn't think for yourself.

Bucky's eyes scanned over you, taking in your flushed and panting form. He could see the way you were responding to him, how your need was taking over and making it hard for you to think.

“There’s my good girl,” he murmured, his voice silky smooth. "Now open that pretty mouth and stick that tongue out so Sarge can fuck your face.”

You followed his orders without question, tilting your head back and sticking your tongue out as far as it would go. Seconds later Bucky was shoving his fat cock between your lips, thrusting his hips until the head of his dick was hitting the back of your throat. You did your best to suck around him, hollowing your cheeks while your tongue lapped up every drop of precum leaking from his tip. One of your hands braced on his hip while the other came up to play with his balls as he grunted softly with your ministrations.

Bucky was losing it a little more with each passing second. You were so damn gifted with that tongue of yours, and he wanted to come inside you.

“You’re gonna make Sarge come,” he moaned. So did you, right around his cock. “Bet you'd like that, huh?” His hips thrusted deeper into your throat and you felt tears pricking in the corners of your eyes. “You wanna taste me?”

You gazed up at him with desperate, pleading eyes, and he responded with a dark, mocking laugh.

“Too fucking bad.” He grunted, pulling himself from your mouth as his eyes fluttered shut while you were left panting and speechless.

“Ruined that chance,” he continued. “Show me those gorgeous tits. You want me to make sure they're protected from the sun? I can cover them in cum and you won't have to worry about that any more. How does that sound?” 

Bucky's hands moved to rest on your shoulders, firmly pushing you down onto your back, his body hovering over you, trapping your wrists above your head in his hands. His cock resting between your breasts.

“Is that a nod, doll? You gonna let me come on your tits?

"No,” you answered, rather weakly.

He chuckled, but there was an edge to it, a hint of a warning.

"Oh go on now, get me off, darlin'.”

You struggled slightly in a weak attempt to free yourself from his grip, to take what you wanted.

"Struggle all you want, doll. But you're not going anywhere 'til you're dripping with my cum," he muttered darkly from above you.

This man and his filthy mouth. The way it had you squirming, panting. You could feel the heat pooling between your thighs. The need for him to take you was overwhelming. Your body writhed beneath his, your aching pussy silently begging to be filled.

"Aww look at you all stuck," he laughed. "You're dripping wet, aren't you? You might as well tell the truth because I'm going to fucking check anyway.”

"Go on then.”

Bucky smirked, his eyes darkening with a familiar look. He loved this game, the push and pull, testing your limits and seeing how far he could go.

"You sure?" he asked, his tone taunting. "You want me to touch you, make you squirm even more than you already are?”

"Please..." the word slipped from your lips before you realized what you were saying.

Bucky's eyes darkened at your whimper. He could always tell when you were starting to let your guard down, when you were giving up the fight. It made him want you even more.

"Please? Look at that, you're begging now, doll. You need me, don't you?” He asked, gently thrusting between your breasts.

You whimpered softly. There was no denying it, you wanted to be touched, you wanted him to fill you up, you didn't want to wait. 

Bucky could see the look in your eyes, the desire that had taken over and left you a needy, begging mess. He loved seeing you like this, completely under his control, waiting for his touch.

"You're starting to be a good girl now, huh? I knew you would give in eventually. You just need a little push, don't you?”

"The only thing you should be pushing right now is little Sarge inside me.”

Bucky chuckled deeply. Damn, your filthy mouth was going to be the death of him.

"You're getting cheeky, doll. You won't be getting that anytime soon until you learn some manners.”

"You gonna teach me?" you smirked.

Bucky's laugh was dark and dangerous. "You're just asking for it, aren't you? But I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson, doll.”

You just gave him a long, silent look, slowly wetting your lips.

Bucky's eyes tracked the movement of your tongue, the way it glided over your full lips. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, and he was loving every second of it.

"You're playing with fire, doll. I don't think you realize just how much you're testing my control right now.”

"Show me.”

Bucky's breath hitched at your words. The challenge in your voice, the slight attitude behind your words. He loved it.

"You really want me to show you?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "You want me to lose control? You think you can handle that?”

"You think you've been in control all this time?”

Bucky actually laughed at that. You were trying so hard to regain a little bit of power, to knock him off balance and turn the tables. But he could see through it all.

"Don't act like you haven't been the one begging for it this whole time, doll," he smirked. "You've been desperate for my touch, my attention, my control. And you know it.”

"Then do it.”

"Oh, doll, you're so impatient," he taunted. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you, just the way you need. You'll get your fill, but on my terms.”

He moved down to kneel between your legs.

Bucky knelt between your legs, his body towering over you as he settled in. He could see the way your breath hitched, the way his presence alone was affecting you.

"You good, doll?" he asked, his voice low and sultry, "You ready for this?”

You smiled at your boyfriend, something had suddenly shifted between you, teasing put aside, your closeness and intimacy taking over as he hovered against your entrance.

Bucky froze for a moment, his eyes softening as he saw the change in you. He knew that feeling all too well, that moment when playfulness gives way to something more tender and true. He met your gaze, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You look so beautiful, doll," he murmured, his voice gentle. "I love you so goddamn much.”

"Love you too, Buck," you whispered.

Bucky's heart filled with warmth every time he heard you say those words. It was a moment of vulnerability, a reminder of the love and trust that existed between them.

He leaned down a little more, his body pressing against yours, the tip of his hard length resting against your entrance. He could see the love and longing in your eyes, and he wanted to make you feel good.

"Are you ready for me, doll?" he asked.

"Always ready for you, Sarge." You spread your legs, inviting him in. 

Bucky darkened eyes sparkling with affection. He loved that nickname, the way it sounded when it left your lips.

"There's my good girl," he praised, his fingers caressing your skin as he positioned himself at your entrance. "I'll take care of you, doll. Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

You panted softly as his thick cock filled you, the glorious stretch of your walls as he pushed into you making your eyes roll backwards. The first movement was slow, cautious, and almost gentle, giving you the chance to accept him. He kept going until he was fully seated inside you, his nose not even an inch away from yours. 

Bucky was in ecstasy, there was nothing quite like the feeling of your body wrapped around him. It was like coming home, a moment where he was yours completely, where he felt safe and accepted.

Bucky could feel your body twitching beneath him, begging for more. He knew he couldn't hold back any longer, the need was too strong.

The moment of stillness was just long enough to let the realization sink in that they were truly connected, body and soul. Bucky was fully lost in the moment, the heat and the sensations that were coursing through him. He needed more, needed to feel those highs, those peaks. He needed you.

"I need you, doll," he managed to gasp out, his voice gruff and raw, "Can I move?”

You nodded fervently.

Bucky could sense the pleading in your eyes, the unspoken plea for him to take you, make you his. His hands moved to your hips, holding you firm while he pulled out and then slammed back into you hard, a groan leaving his lips.

"Damn doll," he grunted. "You feel so good.”

"Ohhh, Buck." You moaned, no other words were left in your vocabulary as he pounded in and out of you, the sound of your skin slapping together almost drowning out the waves crashing on the beach.

The sound of your voice, the way you said his name, it drove him wild. He knew he couldn't last much longer, not when you were looking so damn beautiful, lying under him, taking every inch of what he had to offer. 

"That's it, doll. M'close.”

You weren't too far off either, not with the way that his tip brushed your A-spot before he pulled out, dragging over your sensitive G-spot. You moaned salaciously as he pushed up your thighs, burying himself deep inside you with each thrust.

Bucky was barely holding it together anymore, the need to make you fall apart first was the only thing keeping him from letting go.

You reached down to touch your clit, to speed things along so you could keep up with Bucky. Bucky's hand shot out, stopping you quickly.

"No, doll," he said, his voice firm. "You don't touch yourself unless I give you permission. That's my job. Understand?”

You whined softly, in the midst of your pleasure, you'd forgotten to keep up your act.

Bucky saw the look of frustration on your face and knew you had slipped. He couldn't help but chuckle softly, even as he was on the edge himself. 

"That's right, doll," he teased. "You forgot who was in charge here, didn't you? But don't worry, I'll remind you.”

He thrust into you harder, pounding into you so hard that you weren't forming any coherent thoughts. The familiar feeling was building rapidly inside you. "Buck," you moaned, as if the sound of his name would communicate what you were feeling.

Bucky recognized that sound, the way you were begging him, calling his name. He knew you were close, right on the edge of falling apart. He didn't let up, keeping that hard and steady pace. 

"Yeah, doll," he grunted, "You're gonna come for me, aren't you?”

Your fingers tightened around the towel that was still hanging on the side of the lounger as you whimpered.

Bucky could see the way your body was tensing, the way your grip was holding onto the towel for dear life. He knew he was pushing you to the limit. He wanted to see you come undone. 

"That's it, doll. Let go for me, I want to feel you squeezing me, come on, be a good girl for me and come.”

"Oh fuck!" The words tumbled from your lips as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

Bucky felt your body convulse around him as you came, and it was all he needed to tip him over the edge. The way your walls squeezed around him, milking his throbbing cock, sending fireworks shooting through every nerve in his body.

"Buck-uhhhh," you panted as your body relaxed, coming down from your climax.

Bucky collapsed onto the lounger next to you. He was panting, his breath coming out in gasps. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest, tucking your head under his chin.

"Damn, doll," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "That was something else.”

"Aww baby, did I make you all weak?" you smirked into his chest.

Bucky chuckled deeply, shaking his head slightly. "Don't get cocky, doll. I still got plenty of stamina left." He nipped playfully at your ear, his hand trailing down your side.

“I'm still waiting on that suncream, Sarge.” You gathered some of his cum that had trickled down your thigh onto your fingertip and held it up. “Not sure this is gonna cut it.”

Bucky growled, his eyes narrowing. Suddenly he scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the end of the pool.

“Bucky!” you shrieked. “Don't you dare.”

“I think you need to cool off.” The grin on Bucky's face was positively smug.

You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and gave him a warning look as he threatened to throw you into the pool.

“Don't,” you said warningly.

Bucky chuckled, turning around and held you closer. You were about to sigh with relief but the glint in his eyes betrayed his intent. You gasped as he took a step backwards sending you both tumbling into the pool with a huge splash!

[fear-is-truth]

IN NOMINE PECCATI — charlie mayhew

tags — mature content﹒porn with plot﹒doctor + priest charlie mayhew﹒fem!reader﹒cnc﹒somno﹒oral (f!receiving)﹒unprotected p in v ﹒wc : 1.5k

a/n: english is not my 1st language but im trying. p.s : “in nomine peccati” means “in the name of sin” in latin

THE DOORKNOB TURNS, allowing a sliver of yellow light to slip into the quiet house as charlie mayhew steps inside. with practised ease, he hangs up his coat and sets his keys down without a sound, as he’s done countless times before. his eyes fall on you, lying sprawled on the couch, bathed in the blue flicker of the television. you’re wearing nothing but a grey t-shirt, the hem brushing the tops of your bare thighs, one arm draped across your stomach, the other lying beside you. he notices the familiar band logo stretched across your chest—you’re wearing one of his shirts, hanging loose over your frame.

the sight tugs at something deep inside his chest, an ache tempered by affection.

an infomercial flickers on the tv, with over-excited voices and pristine images of miracle kitchen gadgets that promise to “slice, dice, and change your life!” charlie reaches for the remote and lowers the volume, careful not to let it die completely—its glow is enough to keep the room from sinking into total darkness. he treads lightly toward you, feeling a bit like an intruder in his own home as he crosses the room. when he finally stands by the couch, looking down at you.

he takes a moment to study you—no, admire you. your face is slack with sleep, lips parted slightly, lashes casting faint shadows across your cheeks. a loose strand of hair has fallen over your face, and he carefully reaches down to brush it away, fingers lingering against your skin as he cups your cheek. he drinks in the sight of you in the eerie blue light, noting every rise and fall of your chest, the slight flutter of your eyelids. there’s an ethereal quality of your slumber, a serenity. so lost in dreams, undisturbed by the world around you.

his sleeping beauty.

he reaches down again, brushing a thumb over your cheek, a featherlight touch as he marvels at the smooth softness, in juxtaposition to the harshness he’s known all day. you stir slightly, murmuring something incoherent, but he holds still, waiting until you settle again. unable to resist, he leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, lips warm against skin. then he climbs onto the couch, carefully positioning himself above you with his forearms braced on either side of your body, his weight held carefully. his face hovers inches from yours, his gaze tracing every detail—the slight curve of your mouth, the way your lashes fan across your cheekbones, the softness of your expression in sleep.

carefully nestling himself between your legs, charlie’s mind drifts (a bit morbidly) back to the icu, the patients lying motionless in their beds, tethered to tubes and machines, barely clinging to life. hours spent witnessing the slow erosion, orderlies turning over comatose bodies to prevent bedsores—wipe, clean, repeat. he’s grown cynical about them over time, but here, with you—your skin soft, alive, bathed in coloured light—he feels the difference.

fingertips trace your collarbone, meandering through the valley of your breasts,delving to your stomach and finally their destination in between your thighs. no panties, that have been your mutual agreement.

in your dream, there’s warmth, first. heavy and unyielding, a heat that settles over you like fire, burrowing into your skin like ultraviolet rays. your senses wake slowly, your cheek brushing against something coarse, unfamiliar. dark fabric clings to you, wrapping you in heavy folds, thick wool scraping against your neck and wrists like penance. your eyes open to an unnatural red glow that bleeds across the vast, vaulted space, spilling from the stained glass in vivid torrents. it bathes the walls, fills the air like smoke. shadows stretch and twist across the stone, curling toward you as if drawn by some unholy force. the air reeks of incense—an earthy, heady scent invades your lungs,

and then, there’s him.

above you, a figure looms, like a dark angel descending. his face is half-shrouded in shadow, lit only by the crimson light that paints his regal features in blood-red relief. a white collar gleams against the black of his robes. a priest’s collar, you realise.

charlie is dressed as a fucking priest.

your eyes meet, and the face of your lover is a study in contrasts, softened by the lurid red light but edged with shadows that deepen every line, every trace of restraint he’s barely holding onto. hands frame your face, roughened palms warm against your skin, and then his mouth is on yours, a kiss that is equally reverent and devastating, as though he’s whispering a prayer between your lips.

his weight presses you down, rooting you to the altar, cold marble biting into your back and only feeding the heat pooling low in your stomach. his mouth captures yours, lips parting to coax you open. when his tongue slips in, it’s unhurried but intentional, roving over your hard palate and tracing against your tongue. his hands cradle your face, thumbs grazing along your cheekbones, grounding you in an act that feels like the quiet theft of something sacred.

charlie pulls back, lips parting from yours which leaves you breathless and aching in the sudden absence. his gaze holds yours for a moment, then he shifts, hands trailing down your sides, fingers pressing gently against your hips, before he slips down from the altar entirely, lowering himself onto the floor at your feet. his hands rest on your ankles, thumbs tracing over the sensitive skin there as he looks up at you, his eyes darkened in the crimson light. from where he kneels, he seems to take you in entirely, a reverence in his gaze that skirts the edge of blasphemy.

fabric clings to you, unfamiliar and restricting. you glance down, catching a glimpse of black, long and heavy against your arms. the realisation dawns slowly, seeping in with the blood-red light: you’re wearing a nun’s habit. heat coils through you, unsettling, molten desire dripping into your loins like honey. you know what you share right now is both holy and desecrated.

your head drops back against the altar, cool stone pressing into your scalp and your spine arches in a slow, involuntary curve. skilled fingers curl in a languid manner, breaching that sweet spot inside you. a broken moan slips past your lips, and the last vestiges of your willpower dissolves under his touch, leaving only the warmth pooling low in your belly and the faint tremble in your breath. charlie continues to devour your forbidden fruit, claiming it without guilt or hesitation. each swipe of his preachers tongue in and out of your searing cunt carries reverence, as if he’s sampling something holy yet wholly his.

“mghm.. charlie…”

charlie’s head lifts at the soft sound of his name murmured from your lips, breaking the silence of the room. a slow smile spreads across his face as he watches you, noticing the way you shift, lips parted, fingers curling faintly as if reaching for something just beyond reach. licking his arousal-coated lips, he leans in, carefully easing himself back onto the couch, moving with a quiet intent. his legs nestle between yours, fitting into place as he settles. the t-shirt has slipped off your shoulder at one point, revealing the delicate curve of your clavicle. charlie dips his head, letting his lips brush against your temple. fingertips lightly graze your side, tracing the hem of your shirt, feeling the steady beat of your heart.

somehow, miraculously, you’re still asleep. carefully nudging your legs wider apart, he tilts his pelvis to the precise position. charlie bites down on his bottom lip to silence a groan as he eases himself inside you, inch by agonising inch until he’s fully sheathed inside you.



lashes flutter, a soft gasp slipping from your lips as he bottoms out, a tingling sensation spreading from the base of your spine to your thighs, his cock nestling deep within you. filling every inch of you with a sacred fullness.

charlie buries his face into the junction where your neck meets your shoulder, placing languid kisses up the column of your throat as his hips rock steadily against yours. the glorious stretch coupled with the way his hands and lips are all over you—fondling your breasts and nibbling at your earlobe coaxes out another mewl from you, tightening your grip on his shoulders and leaving pink, crescent indentations. he pauses mid-thrust to mumble an “i love you,” against the corner of your mouth.

velvety walls pulsate around him, milking out charlie’s orgasm as he succumbs to the white-hot pleasure, hips stuttering before he spills himself inside you, warmth spreading low and deep, radiating from your core like an ember kindling to life. waves of pleasure flows through you—a blessing you’d missed, returning to you as if by divine grace.

all around, the shadows seem to swell, the red light growing deeper, darker, as though hell itself waits just beyond the cathedral walls.

MASTERLIST

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[ladythornofrivia]

Lady with Teal Eyes || Aemond x Aunt!Hightower Reader (Part Two)

word count:

author’s note: writing more chapters of a sad dragon family series. I’ll be on a Norwegian cruise line for Italy and Greece for 2 weeks. I’m gonna be seasick, I already know it. So I’ll be writing this series before I leave. Please enjoy and have a good day.

warnings: incest, cockwarming, teasing, sucking, p in v, rough play, flirting, wholesome moment, jealous aemond, possessive, roughness, mild manhandling, mild degradation, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex, second hand embarrassment, dark content, mentions of su*cide, Aemond being too touchy with his aunt, degradation, humiliation.

summary: Aemond meets his aunt for the first time, and there’s more than meets the eye. (there will be three parts).

The preparations for the celebration of King Viserys has reached closer whilst you accompanied Alicent into the corridor, corridor after corridor of a long tour within the Red Keep. Servants bowed as you all passed. Cold bows and cold eyes lingered, despite their bare minimums of smiling graciously at your direction, as Alicent presented the halls with lavish decor. However, mostly it was green and gold. But others blended it with black and red.

As always, you’re marveled by the exquisite lace and embroidered patterns and a clear structure of its final design of artwork is invigorating. The stitching is what you’re most impressed of.

As all Targaryens and Hightowers strolling, Alicent parted ways with her children, unbeknownst to you, the one-eyed prince had his hands behind his back, violet shade of eye looming over your new gown designed by the seamstress, all soft-shaded periwinkle, strapped with gold embroidery and green and red, streaks of iridescent shun upon sunlight, your manes healthy and glowing, maintained through and through.

You knew he was watching. With his precious one violet eye gleaming at the back of your head, your body shivered in an alien sensation. As for Aemond, a dragon’s hunger is anything but stable or sane. A dragon’s hunger is like a breath of wild fire casted to the torch of the wondrous nature and life itself. The fire eats and leaves the bones of ash, dwindling in midair.

Aegon I altered the history and thus, House Targaryen must stand with unity and strength and blood.

Still parted aways after an idle chat, for Alicent to task with decorations, as her children were long gone, back into your large chambers, you were unpacking your materials for the completion on a quilt, a quilt with colorful dragons and mermaids and ships, various shades of sews and needles unpacked, as the back of your neck tingled with goosebumps as you felt a hot breath stroking.

Before you turned around, large and slender hands travelled over your clothed waist, nearly close to your chest above. A writhe of hot tingle rushing in your coils and chest. A quiet breath strained, lax down to a low hiss, a hiss nearly tickling your skin. No servants were around, no Alicent or Gwayne.

Aemond, a one-eyed prince has lurked and captured you. A princess sent by a Maiden herself. The fiery dragon must seize the princess.

You thought he has gone back to training yard with Ser Criston, as Alicent mentioned once at the entryway within a prolonged conversation.

“Aemond—”

His face inched close to yours, his supple and pretty lips touched your cheeks, trailed down to your jawline, whilst his left hand grasp your face to stay still. The pool between your legs gradually strengthened its warmth and slick, easily for the prince to prance and insert into your tight hole. Under the layers of silk dress, Aemond bunched the layered fabrics to your waist.

You never had a noble taken an interest in you. The only that interests them is the brightness of your teal eyes.

A mesmerizing glow of your hues has yanked his curiosities. His mother never mentioned him about you—not even once in a dubious talk.

Better late than never.

With his hand, fingers strapped, and his trimmed nails clutched the fabric of your corset, the laces loosener it in smooth motion, loosening around your frame, breasts ached as his hand—his cold hand—brushed and pinched your nipple while his other hand found his way your thigh, grasped as Aemond’s tongue flicked and his lips pressed a chaste kiss to your clit.

A moan escaped, your mouth shielded, you face drowned in flush, as Aemond’s heart leapt in satisfaction. Humming, he stood up and inserted his fingers into your cunt, thrusting the fingers in with doubled speed as your moans grew louder, but restrained the pleasure into your chest, holding it. The walls in the Red Keep are dire; servants and nobles and guards walked passed and patrolled through wall and doors. Even the highest nobles strolled by.

“Fuck,” is all he said, as if it was a prayer. “Your cunt might be as Holy as the Maiden herself.”

His lips sucked your swollen tit.

“My prince,” you cried softly. “Please. The guards, my brother and sister will see us.”

“I do not care of their pious thoughts.”

“I’m your aunt, my pri—”

“Don’t fight it, my sweet,” he said, giving a sensual flick on his warm tongue to your swollen flesh, “I might give you a reason to have bruise on you, ones that they’ll never find on your skin.” His hands grasped your waist, trailing with soft strokes. “You’re humiliated. Maybe there’s more than meets the eye.”

Based on his words, you never thought you found it attractive, considering the soft spoken voice, hoarse with arousal.

“Don’t fight it. If you fight against this, this subtle encounter between us, you’ll never forgive yourself,” he whispered, his wet lips brushed yours. “If you have been, you would shoved me away. Would you like that, princess? Shoving me away?”

His voice ragged dampened your cunt and clit twitched at his sound.

“Seems you enjoy it. You’re a good princess. But alas,” he pulled himself afar, the warmth on your body began to turn a chill.

“I shall see you at the feast. Enjoy your stay.” His neck went for a stiff bow, but his eye glued with plea for your consideration of his statement, whether you accept his offer or not, and departed your apartment—a once organized structure is now filled with clutter and oozing sex and the arousal groans you shared has imprinted in your head, you find yourself still with embarrassment.

In a way, a blessing in disguise when no one, not even Gwayne, saw or heard your affairs with a young dragon prince.

You have seen the arrival of Rhaenyra and Daemon and the children, you had a short introduction to all Black faction.

The dinner celebration for Viserys’s nameday celebration has been all but cumbersome. You felt a subtle hostility, but to due your presence, it has lessened but somewhat guarding up—all due to pettiness.

As you, making a progression with your father, it was all but cold distance even you and Otto were near. Not once he looked at you with adoration like he shared his adoration with Princess Helaena, showing her teal beetle. The Green children are all strained; Aegon had his fair share of capable stupidity to throw down a nasty comment of his cousins and nephews.

Daeron was disappointed with Aegon’s perversions, but Daeron veered at you with a kind smile and made a polite conversation with you. Once again, Otto did not acknowledged of your accomplishments. You felt sick in the stomach, and it’s not your bright gold and yellow dress you have finished making. Tears behind your eyes was arising, and your throat budged with hot and parched sting.

Aemond clenched his fist, for his anger was directed at his grandsire for not noticing you. That damnable old fool—if only Otto sees how your talents. When Viserys disregarded Aemond, even his siblings, he wanted nothing more than to see him dead. But alas, with your existence, it’s almost as if Viserys’s existence just naturally died out.

You pardoned yourself, and Alicent thereby dismissed you, you bowed and left to your chambers, spent the rest of the night weeping, thinking what have you done wrong.

As you exited, the tensed feeling withdrew, and Otto was happy again. And so, without a doubt, Aemond gave a good jab on Otto, which caused a disastrous supper for everyone. The music stopped. As for Aegon and Daemon, they found it amusing while Alicent ordered the guards to escort Aemond way back to his chambers.

For Aegon, this was a win for him. He’s not in trouble for once.

~~~

In dreams, you have never seen your mother, what she appears like or what she sounds like or how her personality was. The only thing that is closest to being a mother to you is the wetnurse or the servants or the Septa who provided you with assistance on your daily appearances and wisdom. Whenever a servant brushes your hair, you often think of what it feels like to have a mother brushing your manes with care and doting manner, a soft voice to soothe your aching heart, where doubts and fears would go away.

In times of sleep, you often thinking of ending your life, just to see your biological mother on the other side. Or perhaps more than just seeing your mother. There are times where you hated your life, and you want nothing more but to end it.

People have often told stories of your mother, though it felt it was a grave mistake. Some say she fled away to Free Cities, some said she ended her life from the highest tower of Oldtown and fell down to the sea. There are rumors where Otto took you because you’re adopted, or perhaps he had a secret, illicit affairs.

The cold feeling rushed in you as your eyes pricked with tears. With somebody telling you stories of your late mother, it brought no peace. Only the enigma of your shadowed doubts and an endurance of chaotic insanity, to question whether your life is real, if you’re real in this world with purpose.

The servants have been kind to you more than the nobles, the more everyone pointed out your flaws and the insignificance of your existence, you lead to believe that you’ll never be loved.

And cried once more. Each night, your tears flooded in pillows and blanket, as you embraced the closest object, pretended that it’s your late mother. An endless of an anguish thought has been a hazard.

Only the echoes of the walls could hear you and the pillows has stained, under your hug squeezed the material as hard, wishing for the pain to go away.

In his awake, he’s a perfect prince, but in his dreams, he’s a beast.

A beast kept within a shell of a noble man.

He has dreamt of your teal eyes basking in his dark dreamland, your voice, how it was yearning so much more. A dark dreamland filled with scornful memories of his nephews and Aegon, and the pink dread. He had kill all of them in his dreams, even the fat pig.

With a scolding from his mother, he couldn’t care less. He wanted your presence to be acknowledged by your father, but how can Otto be so cynically dimwitted and more offensively calculating against you?

When the servants spoke over how you’re not related to Alicent, chances are why Otto was pretending that your presence is nothing more than a useless and meaningless substance of meaning to exist.

Others said that they haven’t seen you gone out from your apartments—and that was recent.

Aemond visited you, presented you with a gift, but the word from you not leaving the apartments has concerned. Thus his mind came up an idea.

You have several servants entering the room with stack of your favorite meals and drink—including lemon cakes and Dornish wine.

One knows someone’s best interest. Whoever did it, your heart is elated. As soon as Aemond came in, you hadn’t known whether he knew something that you don’t. Somehow, his intimidating presence softens your heart, prickled in relief.

For some reason, when Alicent paid you a visit, although shortened, she was concerned of your health, you hadn’t formed a proper conversation; Alicent hasted when the Council has called for her summon, but gave her regards.

Aemond accompanied you for a while in your apartments, and chat whatever discussion came up. Each minute and each hour, the two of you became close, became so close that you or him hadn’t open your hearts, despite what he did to you days ago. With your cunt coiled at his face, his voice and neck, his waist, you find yourself crossing your legs, aroused and squirming beside him. You wondered and imagined of Aemond’s tongue guiding and gliding your soaked cunt. At this moment, you wanted tackle him and suffocate him with your legs wrapped around him, taking in of your nectar.

“I’m glad you are doing well, princess,” Aemond said to you. “For I have been concerned of your well-being. A delicate flower such as you does not deserve the cruelty of my grandsire or anyone in the matter of your visit.”

“He’s always been difficult,” you explained. “No matter how much I’ve improved with my skill, he’ll never sees as his or my sister’s equal.”

“In ways my mother and grandsire are more intolerable. Though I respect my mother, I find myself with bore with my grandsire has to say. If anything, I’m glad your presence has casted a light into the dread.”

In Aemond’s case, however, found you as exquisite as gentle as the blooming flower. His one took a longer glimpse at you and notice the difference—how your eyes glinted in glee while your cheeks adorned with youthful flush and enamored smile. Oh so pure and harmless. He hasn’t seen his mother and his siblings. As for Otto, he hasn’t spoke to him since supper at Viserys’s nameday after sending a jab across the face—out of character for a self-assured prince.

Oh, to ruin you.

“Thank you for the meal, Prince Aemond. You don’t know how much I’m relieved to say this,” you said as you finished the embroidery on your unfinished dress you sewn.

Aemond found your gowns just as otherworldly as you.

Consequences won’t matter; Viserys nor anyone else in the room care for his presence. Perhaps it is a blessing, perhaps it is for the best for you to be settled here in King’s Landing, as long you’re in content, nothing else matters, but if harm does come, he shall smite the immoral act. Aemond is no perfect, but with you, he’d be at his best behavior.

“Then I shall relieve you,” he proclaimed.

You find yourself halted at his declaration and glimpsed at his resolved expression.

Something has stirred in your heart that you wanted more than the civil interactions, wanted more than having someone to converse with you.

Tossing and turning onto your bed was all but a doozy. Dizzy from pivoting and switching positions, you had enough. Dreams had come again. This time it’s Aemond calling out to you, feasting on your wet folds and pumping his lithe and graceful rugged fingers in you. Ever since the day before Viserys’s nameday, with Aemond’s thirst, your legs ached.

For a Hightower, it’s a sin to self-pleasure one’s body—a selfish immoral act.

Somehow you found it odd. If a man does self-pleasure, no court would turn the eye, but a woman does self-pleasure with hasting fingers and naughtiness is considered dire.

Faith of the Seven had their own laws, but you knew that men and women had their fair share of illest secrets. Lucky for you, Alicent and everyone in the Red Keep does not know your impure thoughts. The room became hot, then cold, then all at once, the breath in your lips became ragged and desperate. You wanted someone to hold you, treasure you, seduce with sweet nothings and sweet promises with adore.

For your years of not having a partner, you have begun to fear of not having pleasure. In the heating moment, you thought of what’s like losing your maidenhood to someone with a big cock.

You wanted a cock.

His cock.

Oh, a dragon prince. If Aemond hears your thoughts, you’d run away and never to return Westeros and give yourself a new name and fashion.

Damn the consequences and the punishments from the Lord Hand and the Queen themselves! Damn the Faith of the Seven and their laws!

With your fingers circling your clit, no climax arrived. Thus, you casted your blankets aside with a huff, setting out to see him.

Trudging through the dark halls, the guards were nowhere to be found, assuming the guards went elsewhere. As you made your way to the doors, you approached and entered the chambers where you have found Aemond on his bedside.

Your breath held back, taking in at the sight of Aemond. With his porcelain skin and his long silver-blond hair, it gleamed under moonlight, appearing paler compared to daylight. His eye had an old scar, and his eyepatch was placed elsewhere.

Watching his body rising and falling within breath, you approached him and kissed his back, planted your light kisses, feeling the smooth surface of his skin.

Aemond awoke and turned, found you kissing his back.

“My lady,” he whispered, one eye widened, as you stare at his sapphire. It was beautiful like him.

You placed your finger on his lips.

“Have you come to made a decision?” he asked.

Your lashes fluttered under his gaze. “What do you think, my prince?”

Then your lips collided with his. Aemond was taken aback of your sudden act. Eventually, his consciousness fell; with his lips shared an illicit chaste kiss, his hands uncloaked you, and roamed on your womanly body, caressing you, until you began to undo his trousers, his cock hardened.

“This won’t take long,” you promised, slowly pinning him down onto the pillows, unstrapped yourself naked and sat in between his legs. You didn’t expect for his cock to harden.

Your eyes darted to his, awaiting. And thus, you yanked his trousers downward, unveiling his hardened cock. You eyes widened at the sheer size. Your maidenhood hasn’t been taken yet. Your future prospects of marriage hasn’t arrived, but it feels as the more you wait, the more your chances of marriage dimmed. With your body descended, the maidenhood had met his engorged tip.

Aemond lay still, watching you. His sapphire eye gleamed at its victory.

Your voice moaned aloud; your maidenhood slammed down, his engorged cock tightened on your damped walls. Gradually, the pace on your hips sped. You have never felt anything as good. Prayers in the sept are insatiably helpful compare to the prince’s cock.

You have never felt so alive.

Aemond knew you’re a virgin; your hips bounced all thanks to the guidance of his hands.

He pleasured a woman in the brothel in the Street of Silk at the age of three-and-ten. As a young boy, he regretted making a decision by making himself a fool to go along with Aegon and his shenanigans. He was expecting Viserys to guide him gently into the world, but the Driftmark incident has left Aemond concluded that Viserys, his father, did not spare a single kindness or thought and only spared it Rhaenyra and her sons.

All hope was lost until he saw you—a radiant maiden.

You reached your high, as Aemond clutched your hips, spurring down the hot semen bursting the inner walls—a divine conclusion.

Gasping for air, your legs stood achingly, leaving white traces of his semen dripping down on his balls and thighs. When Aemond tried to assisted you, but instead his face met your open legs and slammed your went against his chiseled face and nose.

Fuck my maidenhood, you thought, desperate, as your hips gyrated, feeling his warm tongue and the sharp line of his nose encouraged your arousing sense to further the climax, as your right hand found its way at the back of Aemond’s hair.

Aemond find himself humming against the warmth of your cunt, mingling with his semen. It was a divination, nothing like the brothel. If only his virginity had taken by you instead of a woman who hasn’t live up to her beauty and standards of gentile and grace. Streets of Flea Bottom aren’t to be trusted. His lips kissed your inner thighs, gliding his tongue, and pumped it in between your walls.

Groaning, almost feral-like, your hips paced, your tits bouncing as your walls grew hot again.

“Relieve me,” you said to the prince, hoarse. A soft squeak caught into his ears.

I shall relieve you, my sweet. Just as I promised, he thought.

Your hips gyrated harder, until the spurring had come close; hot liquid squirted on his face as Aemond’s tongue lapped on your cunt faster than last. Your head threw back with his languid strokes on his warm tongue.

Gods it was a miracle.

He has taken your maidenhead.

“Good boy,” you cooed, your breath rasped, your hand still placed on the back of his long silver-blond hair, gyrating your tired hips against his face.

Both you and Aemond found yourselves in elation.

“Good boy.”

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[4theluvofsapphos]

Can we get a Larissa Weems who's prolly an 'innocent' tease when she discovers reader likes her since she's a hella smart woman and wants reader to confess first before she reveals the truth that she knows and has been testing her? 👀 (Idk why but that kind of personality suits her sm and so canon)

KINKTOBER WEEK 1 : "CAUGHT"

NSFW - 'Innocent'!Larissa Weems x Teacher!Reader

warnings: smut 18+ duh, kiddos beware & dni please :p, sub!reader, dom!larissa, a bit of dark!larissa, rough handling of r, fingering (r receiving), teasing, larissa is lowkey predatory in a sexy way, a SMIDGE of size kink if you squint!

A/N: I'M BEHIND SHUT UP SHUT U-- BUT! This is so cute~ I love the idea of her playing dumb but really just luring in our poor reader into thinking she's 'just a sweet woman' when she's literally the most predatory little shit on planet Earth!!

I kinda wandered off prompt SORRY ANON FSHDK THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!!!!

no beta we die like weems >:P

Over the past few weeks, Headmistress Weems had been casting you more and more cheeky glances, her heeled foot nudging at the cuff of your pant leg, or her gaze shifting to something just a little more than friendly. Whenever you would point the fact out or comment on it as quietly as you could, the blonde would look genuinely concerned, cocking her head to the side.

"I'm not quite sure I understand what you mean, y/n. Am I making you uncomfortable at all?" She would ask, her deep blues casting doubt over her face.

You would melt every time, assuring her that you must've been overthinking it, and that she wasn't doing anything wrong.

Sometimes, if you felt confident-- you would tease back every once in a while, call her a pet name, or make a little joke. She would always redden and turn away, saying how you were 'just too much', or a flatterer. It made you smile, but you were sure it was only one sided.

Oh how wrong you were.

--

As you stepped into Larissa's office for your routine biweekly check-in and performance review, your gaze caught on something glimmering in the corner of your eye.

Larissa had yet to arrive back to her office, and she generally allowed you access even when she wasn't present, so you quietly let yourself in.

You two had a bit of a heated discussion surrounding student curfew. You believed they should be allowed extra hours during the evenings as you both had been given when you were at Nevermore, though Larissa believed that they would simply damage and destroy property if allowed out and about past 10pm. The playful bickering had gone on for several minutes before a student called her attention away, and she had left you in the hall nearest the teacher's lounge.

"Do feel free to get comfortable while I deal with this..but do your best to not poke around my office too much. It's yet to be tidied." You remember her saying.

Turning to look at what had originally snagged your attention, you realized it was Larissa's lip shaped coat pendant. Leaning in to inspect it closer, you couldn't help but pick the piece up, brushing your thumb over the lip part of the pendant.

Tilting the piece into the light and squinting-- you notice a familiar scar on the left most part of the upper lip. The cast was of Larissa's own lips.

It was with this revelation that you reflected upon how you secretly yearned for your own boss. It was impractical for workflow AND highly taboo, but you couldn't help it.

The way she always chuckled at your jokes, how she would gently squeeze your shoulder or hand whenever you were nervous, her little whispers of praise when she passed by your class in the halls...It was a wonder you hadn't thrown yourself at her yet.

Turning the piece over in your hands, you marveled at the pure gold pendant. It was weighty and dense in your hand, no doubt high purity. Larissa always had a penchant for the finer things in life. You didn't hold it against her-- if there were screaming outcast children all around you constantly, you'd want to at least have something nice to hold onto while it was all happening.

With a small huff, you hesitantly held the pendant close, staring at those lips you craved to taste for so long.

Despite it all, you quickly brought the pendant to your own lips, pressing a soft kiss to the woman who haunted your dreams and waking days.

If only the metal was soft and warm like you had imagined she might be. If only she cou-

"Do tell me you plan to put that back, darling." A familiar voice chided, astonishingly close to you, no less. Lithe fingers came to hold your waist, manicured nails crimping the fabric beneath them.

"I can't have one of my favourite teachers stealing from me now, can I?" That cloying voice pulled at every piece of your inhibition, clouding it...urging it to simply fall apart. You let out a soft squeak, clutching the golden piece to your chest and allowing your eyes to dart down and see those familiar crimson nails. They held you steady, not allowing you to waver.

You squeezed your eyes shut, nervously shaking your head in response. "I-...would never, Larissa." You assure, though the tremble in your voice betrays your earnestness.

With a throaty chuckle, the blonde leans in, whispering sweetly to you-- a warning,"Do you think I'm dim witted, y/n?"

A beat between the two of you stood in silence.

"...No, of course not. I- I think you're brilliant, Lariss-" The grip on your waist shifted to pull your back against her front, her hand came to take back the pendant, before setting it down as she held both of your wrists in one palm, the other securing your waist.

"Good. Do you remember what I had asked of you before I left not more than 10 minutes ago?"

You let out a pathetic excuse of a whimper, melting into her assertive touch.

"Yes but-" You managed between quick breaths.

"Tell me, y/n. What did I ask you? Hm?" This was a side of Larissa you had never seen. You had heard she could be severe and reprimanding towards her students when she needed to be, but never so-- dark.

You had no way of knowing how she had played this role-- this façade of innocence, of kindness and gentle sweetness for so long... And you had walked right into the beast's lair. You had gone against the one thing she had asked of you.

Your brain was mush, but even so, you tried your best to pull yourself together and answer what had been asked of you. "You...told me to not poke around your things--" "And you went and did it anyways..." With the click of her tongue, the statuesque woman brought your trapped wrists in front of you, forcing your palms flat against the fireplace's wall. You were bent forward, embarrassingly so. With a satisfied hum, the blonde released you.

You weren't stupid enough to try and move. A little voice in the back of your mind urged you to be difficult. To move and whine and annoy her on purpose-- just to push her and see how far things might go. But still, you stayed. Obedient to her whims.

As she paced, she thought out loud, eyes glued to your bent form like some sort of beast watching its prey.

"And to think we could have gone on a nice dinner date...gone for some hot chocolate, maybe? Something sweet...simple...innocent. But you had to go and disobey me the one time I give you instruction. I had been easy on you until now, was I too understanding? Too reasonable in letting you get away with your flirtations...your flattery."

Though she was speaking mostly rhetorically, you cleared your throat to retort. "YOU flirted first, Larissa.."

A low grunt accompanied her pause in pacing. Immediate regret washed over your body, filling your gut with a deep dread as she came back to you, wrenching your wrists upward and nearly dragging you to her expansive cherrywood desk.

With a squeak, you were tossed over weeks worth of paperwork, her body bending over yours, chest and hips keeping you pinned where you were. Helplessly, you began to wiggle around, trying to apologize between pathetic little whines.

Larissa had made up her mind, though. She would take you here and now, since you wanted to be so smart about it all. Part of her anger was stress, part of it pent up emotions. She had been playing this long game with you for almost 4 semesters now, a summer in between that with absolutely no action on her end? She had gone almost completely mad for you in that time. Larissa was partially annoyed because of how unbothered by her you seemed to be. Nothing more than a little smile or blush in whatever she said.

But YOU? God, you made her brain fry, her cheeks flush the most humiliating shade of rosy red. You filled her waking thoughts and her night time dreams. You were at the end of each and every fantasy when she lay writhing beneath her sheets some evenings. And still, you didn't seem to care.

So she would make you care.

"You want to argue about who flirted first? Well I'll let you tell me who fucked you first." She growled, lips latching onto your neck. Her painted lips smeared across the skin of your throat, teeth demanding purchase against your tissue.

You let out an explosive moan, knees buckling as the two of you lay flush against the desk and each other. At this, the blonde chuckled, her lips curling up against your skin.

"Excited, are we?" Without waiting for a response, her manicured fingers hooked against one of the back loops of your trousers. Tugging gently and pausing in her movements.

"May I?"

Even in her desperate state, Larissa was a considerate soul. You let out a small chuckle, nodding and replying with a shy,"Yes, please."

As the anger from your employer simmered down, the true passion from the moment was beginning to seep into the very fabric of your beings. Larissa let out little hums of approval as you clumsily stepped out of your pants in your restricted state, (mostly) unintentionally pushing your rear up against her front, causing some appreciated friction for the platinum blonde.

Your mind was ablaze with all the thoughts, questions, and desires from months of teasing and what you now realized was flirtation. The way her fingers seemed to massage out the most sinful sounds from your mouth, and her lips worked like magic in pacifying your need. Sure, you thought Larissa to be beautiful and intelligent-- but never had you thought she would be such a competent lover.

When her body weight pressed heavier into you so her one knee could push your legs farther apart, you thought you might melt into the floor. Everything felt mushy and warm, too warm to be wearing as much as you were-- but it was midday, and if it weren't for this being your break period, you'd have a class.

"Let's see what we're working with, hm?" Her musing was rhetorical, but you nodded frantically anyways. In some way, you thought maybe that would make her move faster.

With a chuckle, she slipped her hand under the waistband of your trousers, brushing past your fuzz and ghosting ever so lightly over your puffy clit.

You let out of a puff of air, desperately wanting to begin bucking your hips-- and if you were in any other position, you would be able to. But it seemed Larissa was set on making you crumble. Her fingers slipped through your folds with ease, a low hum of approval next to your ear letting you know she enjoyed this result very much.

With every whine and little wiggle of your hips, the blonde inched closer to where you needed her most, seeming to revel in the fool you were making of yourself.

"Larissa...rissa..pl..ease." You managed between pants and whimpers of exasperation.

"Please what, darling?" She purred, fingers grazing lightly over your engorged clit, to which you twitched and whimpered yet again.

"Touch..touch m..me-!" You pushed back into Larissa's front again, and this time she obliged, large and lithe fingers plunged themselves into your soaking hole-- and you saw stars.

A pornographic groan of relief rumbled from your chest, eyes widening in ecstasy as she started up a brutal pace. Your cunt squeezed and drooled around the fingers of your employer-- and the thought made you whimper aloud once more.

"There you go, sweetheart. Let it all out.." She chided teasingly, her tone so grossly condescending that it made you scoff slightly, to which she giggled.

Her fingers worked you to putty, while you bit at your bottom lip, and she kissed along your neck, whispering little praises that had you preening with pride.

"So good for me, darling...so good...so fucking good." The profanity falling off her tongue made it sound like a prayer, causing your legs to finally give out. Thankfully for your position, Larissa's weight kept you suspended and prevented you from sliding down and off the desk.

With each ministration, the sounds of slick and wetness permeated the air, and your face grew redder with how embarrassed you were. Well-- you would be more embarrassed if you weren't about to cum on your boss's desk.

As she sensed your squeezing core and growing unrest as your orgasm mounted, her fingers curled up into that spongy spot that was just SO good, so sinfully pleasurable that you couldn't keep the drool from dribbling down your chin and onto the desk-- your eyes rolling back with each curl and uncurl of Larissa's fingers.

"M-m'close.." you managed between keens and moans of pure bliss, Larissa's hand tightening its hold on your hip, the other pausing to readjust, before thrusting itself at the perfect angle. Seconds later, you were flying to the stars, seeing them behind your eyelids, sparks rippling up your spine, body going taut as a bow in the process.

"Good girl, cum for me." She crooned into you, letting you ride out your absolute explosion of an orgasm while she mumbled little affirmations into your skin.

"Fucking Hell, Larissa-- I--"

"Language, Y/N!" She teased, gently removing her hands from your trousers and flipping you over to straddle you against the desk, front to front.

"Pfft- Sure, like you didn't just say the most disgusting and foul mouthed things to me to get me off." You rolled your eyes, clearing the mussed hair from your forehead and wiping the drool off your chin with a sheepish grin.

Larissa's eyebrow quirked in amusement as you readjusted yourself, making sure you saw as she cleaned your essence from her fingers, making a show of her languid (and unusually long) tongue darting over every last drop.

"So-- Does this mean..uhm..we get a nice dinner date, still?"

A hearty laugh escaped the blonde, and she leaned in closer to you, her stature nearly pushing her bosom into your face. You flushed at the action, taking her hips in your hands to keep her steady.

"Is that how it goes? I bed you and then you take me to dinner? I was sure it was the other way around..."

"Well, yeah- but you kind of...chose for me, in a way. I just want to show you that I do see your flirting, and it does affect me more than you think."

Larissa cupped your face, pressing a tender kiss to your lips, a smile lacing her features.

"Well, if you'd like to have a meal together this weekend, I'd love if you'd have me."

"It's settled, then."

-

done!

[nahoney22]

One Night With Royalty***

🫧 Pairing: Prince Rex X Female Reader

word count: 3.5k

prompt:

“Can you be good for me?”

Summary: When the Prince Rex is admired by your beauty, he takes no time in taking you by your hand, offering you a dance and perhaps offering you a little more.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. AU fic. Cinderella Inspired. Explicit Sexual Content and Language, Dirty Talk, Praises, Face Sitting, Oral Sex ie Cunnilingus, Creampie, P in V Sex, Soft!Dom Rex, Female Reader Wearing a Ball Gown (your choice of colour), Reader Flees at Midnight.

Authors Note: I loved this idea anon! Fitting with the theme of Cinderella I’ve also done it that Reader leaves at midnight same as the film for ✨ drama ✨ i hope this is okay and you enjoy 😊

Entering the palace was like stepping into a realm of enchantment. With each stride you took brought forth a spectacle of grandeur that left you breathless. At first, you thought maybe it was the mountain of stairs you just had to climb in heels that had the wind knocked out of you but it was the crystal chandeliers that illuminated the vast expanse of marble floors with a soft, ethereal glow that had you captivated.

The soft hue casted intricate patterns of light that danced in harmony with the melodies of the orchestra; an unfamiliar sound to you. Not only that, but the air was a symphony of laughter and conversation, carrying with it the mingling scents of exotic flowers from an array of different planets.

The sights of Princesses, Noble men, Senators, and Jedi alike moved gracefully, their elaborate gowns and finely tailored suits exuding an air of regal sophistication. Making you feel like you stood out like a sore thumb as you navigated through the ballroom. Holding onto your dress to avoid tripping over yourself, you couldn't help but marvel at the sight of sparkling tiaras and impeccably polished shoes from the guests.

Despite the overwhelming opulence surrounding you, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of your mind - "I so don’t belong here…"

With a twist of fate and defying your disapproving family who didn’t even want you here tonight, a stroke of luck shined your way. But you couldn’t even think about that right now. You just wanted to take this all in.

Though all eyes were eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Prince Rex - the main reason for the ball - your focus remained captivated by the beauty of your surroundings; caught in a reverie. It hardly felt real.

Overwhelmed by it all, you sought for a moment of calm in the serenity of the outdoors. The far left door beckoned, leading to a spacious balcony offering a panoramic view of the landscape bathed in the stunning glow of a deep purple sunset.

As you stood there, momentarily lost in the beauty before you, a voice shattered the tranquility, causing you to startle. Turning, your eyes widened in astonishment as the Prince himself stood before you.

The tales of his valour in the Clone Wars had preceded him, his attire matching the hues of his armor - a finely embroidered doublet of blue and white. And the praise regarding his looks was indeed warranted, as he was undeniably handsome. It felt like a crime to even look at him.

"Beautiful, isn’t it?" His voice was soft, his gaze kind as he regarded you.

"Yes, it is," you replied, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness as you instinctively dipped into a formal address, feeling suddenly small in his presence.

His smile was warm, his demeanor charming as he took a step closer, one hand casually tucked behind his back. "I hope you don't mind me coming to say hello. I noticed you when you entered and realised you were alone."

You struggled to comprehend how he could have singled you out amidst the bustling crowd, let alone why he would choose to engage with you. "Not at all, Your Majesty," you managed, your words tinged with a mix of surprise and admiration as you offered a quick curtsy.

He chuckles, laughter almost was infectious, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he drew nearer. "The pleasure is mine," he replied, his charm putting you at ease.

Stopping before you, he extended his hand with a gallant gesture. "Will you do me the honor of having the first dance with me?" he asked, his gaze unwavering.

Caught off guard, you stared at his outstretched hand, then back up at him, a mixture of disbelief and elation flickering across your features. "I...I would be honoured," you stammered, finally accepting his offer, your heart racing with excitement as you took his hand.

As the Prince led you back into the ballroom, this time to the dance floor, you couldn't help but notice the hushed gasps and murmurs that followed your entrance. You chew on the inside of your cheek as a sense of unease crept over you, a stark reminder of your perceived insignificance among the sea of nobility and royalty.

Sensing your trepidation, the Prince offered a comforting squeeze of your hand, his reassuring touch momentarily easing your nerves. With a subtle nod, he guided you to the center of the room.

As the orchestra resumed its melody, the Prince's gaze met yours. For a moment, there was a glimmer of something unmistakable flickering in his eyes. There was a hunger there, one that sent a shiver down your spine.

With each step, the Prince's presence enveloped you, his firm yet gentle touch guiding you effortlessly across the ballroom floor. As you stole glances at the onlookers, their reactions ranged from smiles of admiration to expressions of confusion and even disdain. You’re nervous, the weight of their scrutiny threatening to dampen your spirits, but the Prince's reassuring voice cut through the noise.

"Ignore them," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "Look at me."

You tore your gaze away from the judgmental stares, focusing instead on the Prince's intense eyes that seemed to hold a world of secrets. Yet, despite his attempt to shield you from the prying eyes of the crowd, you couldn't shake the gnawing feeling of inadequacy that lingered within you.

"I..." You hesitated, the words catching in your throat as you struggled to articulate the turmoil churning within your mind. "I can't help but feel... out of place."

The Prince's brow furrowed with concern, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly as he sought to understand your inner thoughts. "What are you thinking? If you do not wish to dance just say. I will not take offense," he observed, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity.

You swallowed hard, the weight of your insecurities threatening to overwhelm you. "It's just... I know why this ball is happening. You're seeking a companion, marriage. Someone who is worthy of your stature and position. And yet, here I am, dancing with you, unable to offer anything of value."

Your confession hung heavy in the air, the vulnerability of your words laid bare before him.

“So you are not a Princess or a Senator?” The Prince's unwavering gaze held yours, his question hanging in the air with a weight that made your breath catch in your throat. As more guests joined the dance, their attention momentarily diverted.

Summoning your courage, you met his gaze head-on. "No, Your Majesty, you are not mistaken. I am neither of those things."

For a moment, silence hung between you, the weight of your admission settling over the space like a heavy fog. Then, unexpectedly, he chuckles.

"May I tell you a secret?" His voice was low, conspiratorial almost. Anyway, it was enough to draw you in with its intimacy.

Intrigued, you raised an eyebrow, silently urging him to continue. "Of course," you replied, your curiosity piqued.

"I do not wish to marry. Not yet, anyway." His words were like a revelation, catching you off guard and causing your mind to reel with disbelief. "It is simply my duty. I did not want this Ball to take place knowing I had to marry a stranger."

The two of you danced more together, neither of you seeming to want the music to end. But there was something now different in the way he held you.

His touch was possessive, almost afraid that you were going to slip away from him at any point or have another man come and take you from him. His movements deliberate too, each step charged with an unspoken intensity that left you breathless.

The Prince's hold on you was undeniably suggestive, his every movement a tantalising invitation that stirred something primal within you. You felt foolish for getting so heated by him but there was a curious thought in your mind.

“Why have you asked me to dance with you if you’re not looking for something?”

Your question hung in the air, heavy with uncertainty, as you searched the Prince's eyes for answers. His hand, once intertwined with yours, now caressed your cheek with a tenderness that elicited an audible gasp from your lips, your eyes fluttering shut at the unexpected intimacy.

As his fingertips brushed against your skin, a rush of sensations coursed through you, igniting a fire that seemed to burn hotter with each passing moment in the bottom of your stomach. How could a simple touch evoke such a visceral reaction?

"Who says I'm not looking for something?" His words, laced with suggestion, sent a shiver down your spine, your eyes snapping open to meet his gaze once more. You saw the hunger in his eyes, a desire that started to mirror your own.

Heat rose to your cheeks, the feeling of his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "I cannot lie and say that's not flattering," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as his hands trailed across your body with an intimacy that left you stunned.

Leaning in close, his lips mere inches from your ear, he whispered words that sent a jolt of electricity straight between your legs. "Have you ever been with royalty?"

With a sense of excitement, the Prince guided you through hidden corridors and secret passages, away from prying eyes and into the seclusion of his personal chambers. Each step was imbued with anticipation, yet you were eager to see what was to happen.

As he opened the door, granting you entry into his private domain, you couldn't help but marvel at the sight before you. The tapestries that draped the wall, the size of his bed… all of it. But before you could fully take in your surroundings, the Prince stepped up behind you, his hands finding purchase on your hips, his lips brushing against your ear in a gesture that sent shivers down your spine.

"Do you want to do this?" His voice, soft yet commanding, filled the room with an intoxicating allure that left you breathless.

"Yes, Your Majesty," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, your desire evident in every trembling breath.

"In here," he murmured, his hands trailing down your back as he began to slowly, deliberately, undress you. Each touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your body that has your knees shaking, “you can call me Rex.”

As the fabric of your dress fell away, leaving you exposed in your corset and undergarments, a flush of heat flooded your cheeks at the Prince's appreciative gaze. "You are beautiful," he whispered against your skin, the warmth of his breath making your head roll back and rest in the crook of his shoulder. His lips found your exposed neck, gently kissing along your skin that makes you whimper under his touch.

Your body tingles with anticipation as Rex then led you to his bed. As he sat down, his gaze roamed over your form with a soft smirk, his eyes locking with yours in a silent exchange of desire.

Bringing your hand to his lips, he kissed over your knuckles softly that sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core. "Can you be good for me?" he whispered, his voice thick with lust.

“Yes, Rex,” you replied, your voice husky with longing. “Anything for you.”

"Good girl," he murmured, his words sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through you as he quickly undressed you until you were now fully nude, him following suit before he reclined on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. The air crackled with tension as you crawled towards him, your movements deliberate and sensual.

As you drew closer, his lips met yours in a passionate kiss, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatened to consume you both. His lips were warm and delicious, tender and precise whilst his hands roamed over your body with an urgency.

But then, with a subtle command, he guided you into position, his gaze smoldering with desire as he whispered, "I wish for you to sit on my face."

A smile of anticipation spread across your lips, your eyes shining with desire as you straddled his face, feeling the heat of his breath against your skin. With a low moan of pleasure, you lowered yourself onto him, the sensation of his tongue exploring your cunt sent waves of ecstasy coursing through you.

"You taste so fucking good," he moans into your heat, his tongue working wonders as it explores every inch of your dripping arousal. Gripping your thighs firmly, he holds you in place, his determination evident in the fervour of his actions.

His hand roams upwards, teasing your sensitive skin until it finds purchase on your breast, kneading and pinching your hardened nipples. “R-Rex,” you whine beautifully, gazing down at him between your legs, his brown eyes staring back at you with desire as he sticks his tongue deep in your hole; the noises lewd, sloppy and messy

Feeling bold, you begin to move your hips, grinding against his face with increasing urgency. "That's it, ride my tongue," he encourages, praises, his words muffled by your slicked cunt that sends vibrations through your core.

You're on the brink of ecstasy after a few minutes, your body trembling. "I'm gonna cum, Rex," you moan, your fingers brushing against his buzzed-blonde hair as he pushes you closer to the edge with his expert ministrations.

"Go ahead, cum for me," he demands, his grip tightening as he doubles his efforts, pushing you over the edge into a euphoric release. With a satisfied groan, he laps up your essence, savouring the taste of your pleasure.

As you catch your breath, he guides you onto his lap, his solid cock pressing against you. "Are you ready for more?" he asks, his lips brushing against yours, his desire evident in the hunger of his kiss. “You’ve got such a beautiful pussy… I just need to bury myself inside you.”

Your mind is reeling from the intense pleasure coursing through your veins as Rex's lips devour yours, leaving you yearning for more. “Yes, yes fuck me please!”

He grins against your lips and flips you over, positioning himself above you, anticipation coils in the pit of your stomach. His cock presses against your slick folds, the size both intimidating and exhilarating. "You're so big, Your Majesty," you purr in desire.

"I told you," he replies softly, his breath hot against your skin as he begins to ease himself inside you, eliciting a hearty groan of satisfaction. "Call me Rex."

With each inch of his length filling you, a symphony of pleasure floods your senses, driving you to new heights of ecstasy. His hands grip the sheets beside you, his movements deliberate and controlled as he savours the sensation of being buried deep within you.

"Stars, you're tight," he murmurs. "It's been so long for me..."

You offer no words of reassurance, only the soft sounds of your moans and the tightening of your legs around him, urging him to delve deeper into each moan you make.

His pace starts slow but then quickens quickens, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. "You've got such a lovely cunt," he coos, his eyes locked on the intimate union between your bodies, his cock glistening with your slick arousal. "You feel so good."

"M-More, I need more, Rex," you whimper, your body arching against his, desperate for the relentless rhythm of his thrusts.

With a deep grunt, he obliges, his movements becoming more urgent and rough as he plunges into you with unrestrained passion. "Beautiful," he praises, his voice thick with desire as he loses himself, gazing into your brown eyes.

The room fills with the sounds of passion, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and lust. Your body is ablaze with desire, every nerve ending ignited by the intoxicating pleasure of Rex's touch. With each thrust, he elicits a chorus of moans and gasps from your lips, driving you to the brink of madness.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he groans, his voice a husky whisper against your skin as he buries himself deeper inside you, face buried in the crook of your neck as he practically folds you in half. "So tight and wet for me, just begging to be fucked."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, the sheer intensity of his desire sending shivers down your spine. "Yes, Rex, please," you whimper, your voice a desperate plea for more of him, more of the overwhelming pleasure he brings.

He responds with a sigh, his movements growing more urgent and desperate as he seeks to fill the hunger that consumes you both. "You're driving me crazy," he confesses, his voice raw with need as he loses himself.

You want more. You need more. "Harder, Rex," you beg, your nails digging into his skin as you urge him to push you further, to take you to the edge again.

With a fierce determination, he complies, his thrusts becoming one again rougher and more intense as he drives you towards the pinnacle of release. "You're so fucking beautiful," he growls, kissing your neck before resting his forehead to yours, locking gazes. “You look so cock-hungry.”

It was sudden, your orgasm hitting you like blaster-fire. With a shared cry of release, you surrender to the overwhelming tide of pleasure, your walls contracting on his cock.

You screamed his name, grasping at his body desperately as he gives strained grunt before he spilled deep inside you. He holds you tight, still slowly thrusting in and out, and you kept clawing at his back, murmuring incoherently.

Rex soon stops, staying inside you as you just laid there together, catching your breaths. “You are wonderful.” He murmurs, kissing your lips softly.

You smile lazily, your legs still twitching as you slowly come down from your high, gasping quietly as his softening cock slips out of you.

“May I draw you a bath?” As Rex offers to run you a bath, he covers you with a part of his duvet and you can’t help but feel touched by his consideration for your comfort, and a blush warms your cheeks at his respect for your dignity.

"I feel like I should be asking you," you chuckle softly, meeting his gaze. "After all, you are the Prince. But I'd like that, if you don't mind?"

"I would not have offered otherwise," he assures you, placing a tender kiss on your cheek before retreating into the refresher, the sound of running water filling the silence.

Alone in his room, you allow yourself a moment to reflect on the whirlwind of events that led you here. You had only wanted to have a bit of fun tonight, sneaking into the Ball without your family's knowledge and experiencing just splendor, only to catch the eye of the Prince himself. And what followed was beyond your wildest dreams. He had been kind, sweet, and utterly captivating.

But reality soon creeps back in, reminding you of the inevitable constraints of his royal obligations.

With a heavy sigh, your gaze lingered on a clock and your eyes widened as realisation hit. Time is slipping away and you must leave—fast.

Hastily, you gather your clothes, struggling to dress yourself. The intricate laces of your dress prove to be a challenge, and frustration mounts as the seconds tick by.

The sound of your hurried movements catches Rex's attention, and he emerges from the refresher, a quizzical expression on his face. "Is everything alright?"

"I..." you falter, meeting his gaze, the softness and confusion in his eyes tugging at your heartstrings. He looks almost like a wounded creature, not wanting to see you go. "I have to leave. But I've had the most magical night, Your Majesty."

As you turn to leave, a pang of regret grips you tightly. "Wait! I... I don't even know your name," Rex calls out, his voice laced with a hint of shame at his oversight, mentally cursing at himself for never asking. Supposedly it was because he felt like he did know you.

But time is against you, and you have no choice but to flee his chambers, leaving his question unanswered. With an apologetic glance over your shoulder, you bolt from the room, your heart pounding in your chest as you navigate the labyrinth passageways of the palace, praying you remembered the way he led you in.

Meanwhile, Rex scrambles to dress himself, his mind racing with thoughts of you. He curses his own foolishness for not asking your name sooner, knowing that now, you're gone, slipping through his fingers like sand.

As he races down the stairs of the palace, clothes askew and heart pounding, he scans the darkness of the night, searching for any trace of you.

All he has now are the memories of your eyes, the warmth of your touch, and the lingering scent of your lips to remind him of the moment you shared.

But Rex is determined. He will find you again, no matter the cost.

Masterlist

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 7 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot t @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @lulalovez @thiswitchloves9904

[rootedinrevisions]

Kinktober 2024: Day 15

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know it's not technically the 15th yet. But I just finished writing this one and I'm really excited for you guys to read it. I also know I have a lot going on tomorrow so not sure when I'll have time to post it, so posting it a little early!

PROMPT: "Feel what you're doing to me? That's all because of you!"

KINK: Lingerie

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT (P in V)

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

TAG LIST: @missmarveledsblog I @shanimallina87 I @fore45fore

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

The late morning sun poured through the windows, casting a warm glow across the living room you and Bradley shared. You sat cross-legged on the floor, fingers carefully smoothing out the last corner of the wrapping paper around his coming home present—a gift you’d been planning for months.

The photo album sat snugly under the glossy paper, bound by a neat ribbon you tied with extra care. Inside were the boudoir photos you had taken just weeks after he’d left for deployment. It was something special, something intimate, to remind him how much you’d missed him. Each photo was a memory in itself—a way for you to stay close even when he was oceans away.

You pressed down the final piece of tape, running your hand over the gift with a satisfied sigh. The small album, resting in its elegant wrapping on the kitchen table, felt like a secret shared between just the two of you, a piece of you waiting for him to come home.

The clock ticked closer to the afternoon, and excitement bubbled in your chest. It had been six months, half a year since you'd last seen Bradley in person, and today was the day he was coming back. You grabbed your keys, heart racing in anticipation, ready to meet him at the base. You gave the present one last glance before heading out, the thought of his reaction swirling in your mind as you made your way out the door to bring him home.

* * * *

The air buzzed with excitement as you stood among the crowd at the base, your heart pounding in your chest. You watched as one by one, men and women began walking off the plane, their faces weary but lit with the relief of being home. Your eyes scanned each face, searching desperately for the one you’d been waiting for. The anticipation twisted inside you—until finally, there he was.

Bradley stepped off the plane, looking up just in time for your eyes to meet. That familiar smile spread across his face, and in that instant, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you. He dropped his duffel bag to the ground and took a few determined steps toward you. Without thinking, you broke into a run, closing the distance between you in seconds.

You launched yourself into his arms, wrapping yours tightly around his neck as he held you close, his arms enveloping you in that perfect, safe embrace. The world seemed to melt away as you both stood there, holding onto each other for what felt like minutes, neither of you wanting to let go. His warmth, his familiar scent—it was everything you’d missed.

Bradley pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, a soft smile playing on his lips before he leaned in and pressed them to yours. The kiss was slow, lingering, and filled with all the love and longing that had built up over the last six months. 

After several kisses and a few more tight hugs, he whispered, "I’m ready to go home."

But before you could move, he draped an arm protectively over your shoulders, keeping you close as the two of you made your way to his Bronco—the vehicle you had driven there, waiting to take him back to where he belonged.

* * * *

You and Bradley walked through the front door, the familiar comfort of home welcoming both of you as you closed it behind you. Bradley paused, noticing the carefully wrapped present sitting on the kitchen table. He glanced at you with raised eyebrows, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

“What’s this?” he asked, his voice laced with interest as he gestured toward the gift.

You smiled, leaning against the counter. "It’s a little coming-home present for you."

His curiosity deepened, and he gave you a playful look. "Can I open it now?"

You nodded, watching him as he moved over to the table, his large hands quickly but carefully tearing away the wrapping paper. When the paper fell away, he stood holding a sleek photo album, his eyes flicking back to you with even more curiosity.

"A photo album?" he asked, his lips tugging into a smirk.

"Just open it," you teased, crossing your arms and biting your lip in anticipation.

Bradley’s gaze shifted back to the album as he slowly opened it, revealing the first photo—a soft, almost innocent image of you wrapped in one of his Hawaiian shirts, buttoned up but still leaving a hint of bare skin peeking out. You watched as his expression softened, his fingers gently turning the page. As he flipped through each photo, his smirk grew.

His tongue ran along his bottom lip when he reached the next series of images—the ones where you had started to unbutton the shirt. You felt a warm flush rise in your cheeks as his eyes darkened with appreciation. By the time he reached the photos where the shirt was completely gone, revealing the pale blue lace teddy you had worn just for him, his breath caught.

The intersecting straps, the delicate lace, and the strategically placed cutouts accentuated your figure in all the right ways. Bradley took his time, flipping through those photos a little more slowly, savoring each one, his gaze lingering on the sight of you in his favorite color.

When he reached the final set of photos, where the teddy had come off and you were laid out on the bed with nothing but a sheet draped across your bare skin, his eyes widened slightly. He glanced up at you, his expression a mix of admiration and something more heated. You felt his eyes tracing every inch of you as if he could still see the images in his mind.

"Damn," Bradley breathed out, his voice low and husky as he looked back at the album, and then back at you. "You did all this…for me?"

You smiled softly, feeling your heart race at the way he was looking at you now. "Every bit of it."

Bradley set the album down and turned toward you, his strong hands finding your waist as he pulled you against him. His gaze was filled with adoration as he whispered, “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

His lips captured yours in a heated kiss, the intensity building quickly as his tongue slipped past your lips, deepening the connection. His hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you impossibly closer. 

But before the moment could escalate further, you stepped back. Bradley looked at you, confused, his brow furrowed slightly.

That’s when you tugged at the hem of your shirt, untucking it from your denim shorts. His confusion quickly faded, replaced by realization—and a growing anticipation. His eyes darkened with desire when he noticed the shirt you were wearing wasn’t yours. It was one of his Hawaiian shirts, the same one you had worn during the photoshoot. You began to slowly unbutton it, just like you had in the pictures, teasing him with every undone button.

Bradley’s gaze never left you, his breathing growing heavier as you undid the last button, revealing the lingerie beneath—pale blue, lace, with the same intersecting straps and cutouts from the photos. He whispered something, maybe a quiet curse or a breathless declaration of how much he loved you, his voice thick with need. Whatever it was, you couldn’t quite make it out.

You gave him a playful, teasing look before turning and heading toward the bedroom.

You’d barely made it into the room before Bradley was on you, his hands quickly unbuttoning and sliding your shorts off, leaving you in just the delicate lace. 

He pulled you back against him, your back to his chest, one hand trailing down from your chest to your stomach while the other gripped your hip, pressing you into him. You could feel the hardness there, his need evident against you.

A soft moan escaped your lips as Bradley leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Feel what you’re doing to me? That’s all because of you.” His voice was low, filled with raw desire, and the sound sent shivers down your spine.

Bradley’s words lingered in the air, sending warmth through your body as his hand moved from your stomach to your thigh, fingers brushing lightly along the edge of the lace. He gently traced the outline of your lingerie, teasing the sensitive skin beneath it. His breath was hot against your neck, and your body instinctively arched into him, craving more of his touch.

His fingers trailed back up, slipping under the lace at your hips as he whispered, “You have no idea what seeing you like this does to me.”

His voice was deeper now, laced with desire and intensity. He let his hands roam over your body, tracing the delicate fabric that covered you, while pressing your hips harder against his. You could feel how much he wanted you.

You let out a soft gasp when his fingers finally found the spot between your legs, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over the thin fabric of your lingerie. Bradley’s lips were on your neck now, kissing and nibbling along your skin, sending waves of pleasure through you.

You tried to push back against him, wanting to feel more of him, but he was in complete control, keeping the pace slow and torturous.

“Not yet,” he murmured against your skin, his hand moving even slower as he teased you, the tension building with each passing second.

A needy whimper escaped your lips, and Bradley chuckled, his low, raspy laugh only making you want him more.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he whispered, his fingers never leaving their spot between your thighs, driving you to the edge.

Your breath came out in short, desperate bursts. “I need you,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely a whisper as you leaned your head back against his shoulder, giving him even more access to your neck.

Bradley didn’t need any more convincing. In one swift motion, he spun you around to face him, his hands gripping your waist as he pressed his forehead to yours. His eyes, dark and full of desire, searched yours for a brief moment before his lips crashed into yours again. His kiss was rougher this time, full of hunger and urgency as he began guiding you toward the bed.

Before you knew it, you were on your back, and Bradley hovered over you, his gaze tracing every inch of your body, still adorned in the lace that had driven him wild. He paused for a moment, admiring you, his lips curving into a small, mischievous smile. 

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion and desire.

He leaned down, pressing soft kisses to your stomach, working his way up until his lips were at your chest. His hands slid under you, quickly unclasping the straps of the lingerie and tossing it aside. 

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he whispered against your skin, his breath hot as his mouth moved to your breasts, teasing you further.

Your back arched at the feeling of his tongue tracing circles, his hands firmly holding you in place. Every touch sent jolts of pleasure through you, and you could feel the tension building again, stronger and more intense with every kiss, every brush of his fingers.

“Bradley,” you breathed, your fingers tangling in his hair as you urged him on.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Bradley's hands began to roam lower, and as he positioned himself above you, you felt the heat between your bodies build to a breaking point. There was nothing gentle now, just raw need and passion as he finally gave in to the tension that had been building between you since the moment he walked through the door.

He positioned himself between your legs, giving himself a few pumps before he started pushing himself into you. You immediately felt the stretch that had come after six months without any intimacy. He took it slow, pressing kisses to your shoulder as he tried to be gentle. 

He gave you a few moments to adjust once he was all the way in, both of your breaths coming in heavy. His hips pressed against yours, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you, but it wasn’t just the physical sensation—it was the connection, the months of longing, and the love that had built up in his absence. The world outside disappeared, leaving only the two of you wrapped up in each other, as if time itself had paused to let you have this moment in full.

With each motion, Bradley’s lips found your skin, trailing heated kisses along your neck, your shoulder, wherever he could reach. 

“God, I missed you,” he whispered between breaths, his voice rough with emotion. His forehead pressed to yours, his breath warm and ragged as he whispered more, the words tumbling out between the motions of his body. “Missed you so much… every night I thought about you, baby… how perfect you are… how much I love you.”

The way he said it, his voice thick with yearning, sent shivers down your spine. You felt his hands—firm, but tender—roaming your sides, his fingers digging in slightly as if he needed to confirm you were really there with him. His touch set your skin alight, the months of separation making each caress, each brush of his lips, even more intense. Your body responded to him instinctively, arching into his every movement, meeting his hips with equal fervor.

“Missed this,” he groaned, his forehead still pressed to yours as his pace quickened, his hips driving into you with a little more urgency now. “Missed us… missed the way you feel, the way you move with me…” His voice was hoarse, broken by the weight of his desire and the emotion that flowed between you both. His words only heightened the pleasure building inside you, the sensations intensifying with every thrust, every whispered confession.

Your nails grazed down his back, your fingers grasping at him, needing him closer, deeper, as if you couldn’t get enough of him. He grunted softly at the feeling, his muscles tightening under your touch, but it only spurred him on, his hips pushing harder, his body pressing against yours as though he was determined to make up for every missed moment.

The heat between you grew unbearable, your body tightening around him as he moved inside of you, the pressure building and building, your breaths becoming more ragged. His voice was still there, whispering against your lips, “I love you… I love you so much,” the sound of it driving you closer and closer to the edge.

Finally, it was too much. The pleasure hit you all at once, washing over you in waves so strong you couldn’t hold back. Your body trembled beneath him, your voice calling out his name, raw and full of the longing you had held inside for so long. Your fingers gripped his shoulders, clinging to him as the sensation overwhelmed you.

Bradley followed you into that release moments later, his body tensing above yours, a deep, guttural groan escaping his lips as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. His hips stilled, but his arms wrapped around you even tighter, as though he never wanted to let you go again. His breathing was heavy and uneven against your skin, his chest rising and falling with the aftershocks of his climax.

The two of you stayed like that for a long moment, tangled together in the aftermath, both of your hearts still racing, your bodies still buzzing from the pleasure. Slowly, Bradley pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours, full of love and devotion. His thumb gently traced your cheek as he smiled down at you, the kind of smile that made your heart swell with happiness.

"There anything else in your closet that’s new that I should know about?" He whispered, his voice teasing but warm, as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips, a kiss that was far gentler than the urgency of before, but just as full of love.

As your breathing began to slow, the world came back into focus, but it didn’t matter. At that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, everything else could wait. He was finally home, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

[baekhyunsbestie]

♡⸝⸝ sparks and vows (bbh series!) ⊹。°˖➴

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧♡₊˚ s&v playlist・₊✧♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧🥂

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 pairing: soloist!baekhyun x reader aka [✶] 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 content: 18+/MDNI. strangers to lovers, wedding!au, angst, fluff, exos and o/c's, pussy whipped baek, ex-playboy baek, ceo nepo baby reader, smut (tbh probs every chapter), language, scenes with alcohol +/or smoking throughout story, pretty tame tho tbh!!! ଘ(ᵕ˵ ૩ᵕ)━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ takes place right after the gala, slight exhibitionism? smoking, ex-fiance and his creature appearance, baekhyun’s a panty sniffer/thief 😭, this chapter is p much porn w a plot 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 wc: 5,600-ish? 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 a/n: dvsn has been on a heavy rotation whilst writing this chapter 🙂‍↕️🫣 but this specific song is so s&v bbh coded. also, i made a spotify playlist for this series :) link is above hehehehehehehehe <3 enjoy the filthy smut babes!! this chapter was supposed to be like double the wc but i think im just going to do shorter chapters and make the story have a few more chapters than intended hehe

s&v | mlist | ch.1 | ch.2 | ★ ch.3 try/effortless ★ | next

the after-party for the gala unfolded in a breathtakingly opulent space downtown, one of many jewels among the venues and clubs owned by hana’s family. this year, [✶] decided to actually make an appearance—a rare move. maybe it was the high she got from the gala’s overwhelming success—or maybe it was because she couldn’t stop thinking about baekhyun, his tantalizing performance replaying in her mind.

his voice had been like velvet, smooth and rich as it wrapped around each lyric. every note seemed designed to captivate, but it was more than just his voice—it was the way he performed. the way his body moved with such effortless precision, fluid and sensual, as if he knew exactly how to command the room’s attention. but it was the moments when his gaze would land on her, when he’d purposefully sing certain lyrics while locking eyes, that made her stomach flutter.

his entire performance had left her buzzing, her heart pounding, and she couldn’t shake the sensation. now, as she navigated the after-party, all she could think about was finding him again—if only to tell him how completely he had captivated her, how his voice had stirred something deep inside her that she couldn’t quite explain.

the room glowed with soft, golden light, casting an enchanting shimmer over the crowd. the air was thick with the intoxicating blend of perfume, champagne, and the heady rhythm of music that pulsed through the night.

[✶] moved through the throng of revelers with graceful determination, her presence commanding admiring glances as she weaved across the dance floor. the room shimmered with luxury as guests—from the elite wealthy to influential figures and high-profile celebrities—mingled in elegant conversation. the hum of admiration brushed against [✶]’s skin like a gentle breeze, each compliment light yet resonant, making her feel as if she were wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and affirmation. 

her dress—an elegant, flowing red piece that swirled with each step—seemed to ripple like liquid silver under the ambient lights. paparazzi flashes sparkled like distant stars, capturing moments of glamour that would be immortalized in magazines and social media feeds. she left behind a trail of congratulatory whispers and heartfelt compliments, each one a reflection of the night’s success and her undeniable charm. 

as she approached the bar, the pulsating beat of the music grew more insistent, a vibrant counterpoint to the murmurs of appreciation that surrounded her. the bar itself was a sleek, modern marvel, its surface gleaming under the spotlights like a polished gem. behind it, an array of exotic cocktails and fine spirits awaited, their colors gleaming enticingly in the ambient light.

[✶] approached the bar with fluid elegance, her movements perfectly in sync with the rhythm of the party. the crowd’s warmth pressed in around her, a palpable buzz of energy and celebration that echoed the triumph of the night.

at the bar, bartenders worked with a practiced ease, their hands a blur of artistry as they crafted drinks with finesse. [✶] leaned casually against the counter, her eyes drifting over the room while she waited. the scene before her was a kaleidoscope of color, light, and sound—a dazzling celebration of glamour and excitement.

her gaze skimmed over the crowd, searching for hana or kyungsoo, but they were nowhere in sight. the club was packed, making it nearly impossible to spot familiar faces in the sea of elegant dresses and sharp tuxedos. the hum of conversation, mixed with the soft clinking of glasses, created a symphony of laughter and voices.

her thoughts wandered, hoping to catch a glimpse of baekhyun. she wanted to congratulate him on his mesmirizing performance, her heart fluttering at the thought of seeing him again tonight.

her gaze lingered, momentarily lost in the sea of faces and silhouettes, until a familiar figure appeared through the crowd heading towards her. the unmistakable gait, the confident stride, the sculpted physique—each detail as familiar to her as her own reflection. as he drew closer, a radiant smile illuminated his face, the kind of smile that could light up a room. the kind that once meant everything to her.

no, it can’t be.

not him. not tonight.

she feels her breath catch, her chest tightening as mhery eyes lock onto the figure moving toward her. the stride, the posture—it’s him. daniel. she don’t even need to see his face to know. six months of silence, and of course, he’s here. of fucking course, she runs into him now, when she’s least prepared.

maybe he hasn’t seen mhere. maybe he’ll turn around and leave. if she just looks away, he’ll get the hint, right? god, why does he still walk like that—like he owns the damn room?

or she could leave. just slip away before he reaches her. she doesn’t need to do this tonight. she doesn’t need him dredging up the past, reminding her of everything she;’s been trying to bury. but her feet feel glued to the floor, like her body’s betraying her, forcing her to face him.

does she pretend not to care? should she act like she’s over it—over him?

she can’t do this. not now.

but she know it’s too late. he’s right behind her.

[✶] freezes, caught off guard, just as the barista slides her drink across the counter. the glass glints under the ambient light, its cool surface pressing against her palm, anchoring her to the moment. a part of her hopes—prays—that if she doesn’t acknowledge him, if she just ignores the familiar pull of his presence, maybe he’ll disappear. maybe this encounter will vanish as quickly as it appeared. but that’s not how this works, is it?

“it’s nice to see you finally enjoying yourself,” daniel’s voice cuts through her thoughts, dragging her back to the present. his eyes glint as they flick toward the drink in her hand. “i remember how i had to practically drag you to these events. and even then, you wouldn’t touch a drink without a little nudge.”

his laugh follows, a sound that once carried warmth, now piercing straight through her chest. she hates that it still affects her—the way it teeters between affection and teasing, the way it used to make her feel like he knew her better than anyone. but now, it just feels… hollow. mocking, almost.

memories flood back, uninvited. the exhaustion of hosting event after event, retreating back to their shared penthouse, drained, while he would head out to continue the night. she’d always insisted he go, that he enjoy himself, though she never imagined how far he’d take it. a bitter pang twists in her chest, the sting of those nights he’d spent tangled up with someone else—nights that shattered everything you thought you knew about him.

but she pushes it down, swallowing the resentment as she meet his gaze. there’s tension there, the kind that’s never fully settled—nostalgia twisted with a bitter aftertaste.

“nice to see you, too, daniel.” her voice is calm, each word measured and cool. she lifts the cocktail to her lips, the glass icy against her fingers, a contrast to the firestorm brewing inside her. the deep amber liquid swirls lazily in the glass, catching the light in a way that feels almost too fitting for this moment.

daniel shifts on his feet, the subtle discomfort in his posture betraying him. “look,” he starts, his tone softer now, more careful, “i just wanted to say…we should still be on good terms. our families are moving forward with the merger, after all.”

and there it is. the inevitable lee-kim merger, a union that was supposed to be our story. a high-society fairytale, where two hotel empires become one glittering entity. lavish galas, magazine covers, and seamless wealth—it was all laid out like a goddamn hallmark movie waiting to happen.

except they were never the perfect couple. and they both knew it.

she takes another sip, letting the burn of the alcohol dull the edge of his words, the heavy reminder of the life we were supposed to lead, the one that was never truly theirs.

yet now, the once-gleaming promise between her and daniel has tarnished, marred by the weight of their separation. what was once a vision of a dazzling future together now feels tainted by a bitter undertone. the merger—more than just a business deal—has become a symbol of everything that’s unraveled. the dream of a shared empire has transformed into a backdrop for unresolved emotions and lingering questions that neither of them have dared to address.

daniel’s eyes search hers, hoping, maybe even pleading, to find a spark of the easy camaraderie they used to share. but all she gives him is frosty distance, a cold echo of the fractured past between them.

she can’t bring yourself to speak. instead, she looks down at the polished marble floor, her gaze heavy with uncertainty, unable to meet his. the weight of her insecurity anchors her in place, rendering her speechless. all she can manage is a faint nod, her usual confidence momentarily swallowed by the tension of the moment.

daniel’s mouth hangs open as if he’s about to say something else, but before he can find the words, slender arms wrap around his waist from behind. the touch is soft yet deliberate, and a melodious, feminine voice fills the air. "there you are, i’ve been looking everywhere for you."

you watch as a woman glides into view beside him, her movements smooth, almost rehearsed. she emerges from the shadows and into [✶]’s line of sight, a picture of calculated poise. "oh, [✶]," min’s voice rings out with a tone that drips with false familiarity. her smile, though polite, barely masks the disdain lurking beneath. "you did an incredible job at the gala today. i’ve heard nothing but praise. so sorry we couldn’t make it."

her words feel like a slap coated in sugar. [✶] forces a smile, though irritation simmers beneath the surface. "thanks?" the word comes out sharper than she intended, laced with polite defiance. "though i don’t recall extending an invitation to you."

min’s smug expression falters for a brief moment, twisting into a mask of annoyance. the tension between them is almost palpable, hanging thick in the air. after an agonizing beat of silence, [✶] takes a swift gulp of her drink, the bitter taste burning down her throat as she musters the will to escape. she excuses yourself, needing to get away from the disheartening scene that’s unfolding before her.

the weight of everything presses down on her as she walks away—daniel’s betrayal, min’s false charm, the bitter taste of what could have been.

navigating through the crowd, her breath becomes shallow, chest tightening under the crushing weight of her emotions. questions hammer throughout her mind: how the hell could he bring the woman he cheated on me with here? and why the fuck would he even show up at all?

[✶] pushes through to the nearest exit, the door closing behind her with a sharp, final click. the stairwell before her is a stark contrast to the glitzy chaos of the party—quiet, cool, and empty. leaning against the cold wall, she let out a long, shuddering sigh. the air here is cleaner, fresher, and with each exhale, the suffocating pressure on her chest begins to ease. slowly, a sense of calm washes over her, the nerves settling as she savors the silence.

“feeling claustrophobic?” a familiar voice calls down from the top of the small flight of stairs.

[✶]’s heart lifts at the sound of baekhyun’s voice, relief washing over her. “yeah, something like that. i’m not really a fan of these kinds of events,” she replies, a genuine smile tugging at her lips as she glances up at him. she chose not to burden him with her troubles about daniel and his new companion. “what about you? hiding out up here?”

“same as you,” he says with a casual shrug. “just needed a break from all the noise. honestly, i’m not a fan of these things either, but how could i resist knowing you’d be here?”

baekhyun catches sight of the flush creeping across her cheeks at his comment, and his smile broadens, mischief dancing in his eyes. “have you already been drinking,” he teases, leaning in slightly, “or is that blush because of me?” his playful tone makes it hard to keep a straight face.

she raises an eyebrow, a smirk forming on her lips. “maybe it’s a little bit of both. you do seem to have that effect on me. annoyingly so.” she playfully shrugs, savoring the banter as she holds his gaze.

baekhyun chuckles softly, a twinkle in his eye. “i was thinking of heading up to the rooftop for a quick smoke. wanna' join me? i promise the view will be much more romantic than this cold, empty stairwell.” he tilts his head slightly, inviting her with casual confidence as he reaches his hand out for her.

[✶] laughs, nodding in agreement. “yeah, let’s go.” she slips her hand into his, the warmth of his touch grounding her as he leads her up the stairs.

the rooftop was a bright oasis high above the busy city, surprisingly calm despite the lively party going on downstairs that they had just left. strings of market lights crisscrossed overhead, casting a warm, golden glow that danced across the space. each bulb hung like a tiny star, twinkling softly to create a canopy of light that transformed the night into a magical dreamscape. cocktail tables dressed in crisp white linens were scattered throughout, their gleaming surfaces catching the light and reflecting it back in gentle shimmers. trendy patio furniture, upholstered in plush fabrics of deep navy and rich charcoal, was arranged in cozy clusters, inviting intimate conversations under the starry sky.

her eyes widened as she took in the breathtaking panorama of the city’s skyline. the lights below stretched out like a blanket of stars, each building illuminated and shimmering against the dark canvas of the night. the air was cool and crisp, carrying with it a whisper of the city’s vibrant energy. this view would never tire her.

she turned her gaze towards baekhyun, a warm smile spreading across her face as she took in the view. the soft lighting casting down his features made him look so irresistible. "you were amazing earlier, by the way," she said, her voice soft but full of admiration. she settled onto the chaise beside him, her thighs brushing against his. “now i get why you’re so popular,” [✶] flirted, her eyes sparkling with playful admiration.

he offered a humble smile, the corners of his mouth lifting in a shy, almost boyish manner. a subtle blush crept across his cheeks, a delicate flush of pink that hinted at his embarrassment. he reached into the inner pocket of his coat with practiced ease, extracting a slender cigarette with a flick of his wrist. as he placed it between his lips, the dim light from the street below caught the gleam of the cigarette's white paper.

with a quick, fluid motion, he shielded the flame of his lighter from the gentle breeze with the palm of his hand. the tiny flame flickered briefly, casting a warm, golden glow that illuminated his face in sharp relief against the encroaching darkness. the light danced across his features, highlighting the intensity of his gaze and the subtle lines of concentration on his forehead as he drew the cigarette to life.

baekhyun inhaled deeply, the ember at the tip of the cigarette glowing a fierce orange. he exhaled a plume of smoke, which swirled and dissipated into the night air, mingling with the shadows around them.

"well, i had to give it my all for my girl, didn't i?" he said, his voice blending playful confidence with genuine affection. he settled back on the chaise, leaning in closer as he carefully offered her his cigarette. "you really set the bar high the last time we met. all i did this week was rehearse for it. i was so nervous for tonight that i hardly slept at all."

[✶] let out a soft, melodious giggle, a sound that seemed to weave through the night air like a sweet, captivating melody. her eyes sparkled with amusement, their twinkle betraying her lighthearted teasing. she raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a teasing smirk that was both charming and provocative. “'my girl'?” she echoed him, her tone light but edged with playful mockery as she takes a drag of their shared cigarette before handing it back to him. “geez, baek, you might want to take a girl out to dinner first before you start laying claim.”

baekhyun’s laughter rang out again, a deep, resonant sound that filled the rooftop with a warm, infectious energy. his voice carried a note of playful disbelief, a blend of incredulity and endearing affection. “whaaaat?” he responded, his tone both surprised and amused, the echo of his voice lingering in the night air. “and what about our night together last weekend, huh? i thought i did a damn good job claiming you then—”

his playful words were cut short as [✶] placed a hand over his mouth, her eyes wide with a blend of shock and amusement. “are you crazy?” she half-shouted, her voice tinged with urgency. “what if someone hears you?” her head whipped around, scanning the rooftop with a frantic energy. the only sounds were the distant hum of the city below and the soft rustle of the breeze. empty, just as they had hoped when they slipped away to this secluded spot.

baekhyun’s gaze softened as he looked at her, really looked at her. the moonlight highlighted the gentle curve of her cheek and the sparkle in her eyes, making her seem almost otherworldly, like a dream. he couldn’t stand the space between them anymore. her soft, inviting lips called to him with an irresistible pull, and he felt a deep ache to kiss her. the brush of her delicate hand against his skin sent a jolt of electricity through him, creating a tense atmosphere between them.

with a sudden, decisive movement, baekhyun stubbed out their cigarette, the ember hissing as it met the ground. he gently but firmly moved her hand away from his mouth, his touch lingering as if he wanted to savor the moment. his eyes locking onto hers, filled with longing and unspoken desire.

he reached out, his hands cradling either side of her face with a tenderness that belied the strength of his touch. the world around them seemed to dissolve into a blur of distant sounds and hazy shapes, leaving only the two of them suspended in this intimate moment. his fingers, warm and gentle, rested against her cheeks, tracing the delicate curve of her jaw with a sense of high regard.

the kiss felt soft and gentle, like the first snowfall, full of warmth and longing. he seemed uncertain about whether he should kiss her, but he couldn’t resist the strong attraction that pulled him closer. his tender touch showed his vulnerability, and the warmth of the kiss revealed just how deep his feelings were.

he braced himself for her to pull away, perhaps even to strike him with a forceful reminder that she wasn’t ready. but instead of rejection, he felt the subtle, reassuring pressure of her lips moving in harmony with his. her response was a silent affirmation, a gentle surrender as she leaned into his touch. in that fleeting instant, he sensed her melting into his embrace, and a realization dawned on him: she wanted him too.

when he finally drew back, giving them both a moment to breathe, his hands remained caressing the sides of her face, as though holding onto the lingering warmth of their shared kiss. "fuck it, let them hear," he murmured against her lips, his voice low and filled with a raw, unfiltered desire. "i'm not trying to hide you."

she looked at him with an intensity that spoke of unspoken dreams and deep-seated longing. in that moment, her resolve crystallized, and she knew she couldn’t bear to keep him at a distance any longer. 'fuck it,' she thought to herself, echoing his words as she grasped his face in her hands. with a surge of urgency and an intense need, she closed the distance between them a second time, this time of her doing. pressing her lips to his with a passion that had been building beneath the surface all along.

what began as a tender, innocent kiss quickly ignited into a blazing inferno of passion. their lips, initially gentle, pressed together with growing urgency, as if they were both starved for each other's touch. hands roamed with a passion that defied reason, fingertips exploring every curve and contour of their bodies. their proximity was electric, the heat between them tangible as he pulled her onto his lap. 

the fabric of their garments, once a mere formality, now felt like a stifling constraint against the searing intimacy they craved. soft, breathy moans escaped their lips with every caress, every touch that struck a sensitive spot, sending shivers down their spines. each sound was an indication to the mounting desire that drove them further.

baekhyun’s need was undeniable, pressing hard between her thighs as she straddled him, just as he could feel the heat of her damp core grinding down against him. the sudden friction made his breath catch, his chest rising sharply beneath her. a low hum rumbled from him, sending a shiver down her spine as his hands roamed up her legs, the touch electric. his fingers slipped beneath the fabric of her dress, slowly dragging it higher until he could cup her ass fully, giving it a firm squeeze that had her moaning softly into his ear.

his slender fingers dug into her hips, guiding her movements with an unhurried precision, encouraging each roll and grind of her hips against his growing bulge. the wet fabric of her panties soaked through to his slacks, the mix of her arousal spreading with every slow, needy swirl. he knew exactly what he was doing—teasing her, drawing out her desperation, the game as much for his pleasure as it was for hers.

he loved seeing her like this, clinging to his shoulders with trembling hands, breathless and needy, her mind clouded with nothing but him. she whispered his name in broken syllables, the sound like music to his ears, and he reveled in it. every grind, every shift of her body against him brought her closer to the edge, and he knew she was barely holding on.

but baekhyun wasn’t in any hurry. he wanted her to come undone slowly, to make her crave him so completely that she’d be begging for more by the time he finally gave in. and she could feel it—that unspoken promise of what was to come, hanging heavy in the air as he watched her lose herself in the moment, every touch, every grind pushing her closer to her limit.

“baekhyun…” she whines, her voice a soft plea as her hips roll languidly against his, drawing a low, ragged groan from him. his thighs tense beneath her, and the sound is followed by a breathless, teasing laugh as he leans in, grazing his teeth along her jaw. "i know, princess," he murmurs, his voice a dangerous mix of playfulness and promise. "gonna take good care of you."

his dark gaze locks with her, heavy with intent, as his grip tightens on her hips. slowly, but with a clear hunger, he takes control, guiding her body to grind messily against his slacks, each desperate movement sending jolts of pleasure through her. her sensitive, clothed clit brushes over the hardness beneath his pants, and each touch feels like it's designed just for her, like her body was truly made for him. 

baekhyun’s lips find her neck, nipping at her skin as her breath hitches, overwhelmed by the intoxicating closeness. "you're gonna make me cum, baek—please!" the words spill out between ragged breaths, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling a sharp hiss from his lips. another desperate swirl of her hips has him groaning deeply, the friction unbearable when she slowly grinds herself down onto his thick, clothed cock.

with a sudden pull, he drags her closer, the carnal need between her both tightening with each passing second. "oh, is that right?" his voice thick with amusement. "don't get too greedy, sweet girl. i’m not done with you yet."

baekhyun’s hands, driven by pure instinct, slide between her thighs. she responds immediately, parting her legs wider to give him full access, a silent plea for more. his fingers brush over her soaked panties, and he lets out a low, satisfied groan, the sensation only stoking the fire burning between them.

he knew how wet she was—he felt it when she was grinding against him, the way her body was shamelessly pressing into him. but now, with his fingers grazing her damp heat through the thin fabric, the reality hits him in a way that has his pulse spiking. she’s drenched, practically dripping with need, and as he slips a finger under the material to touch her bare skin, he realizes just how ready she is for him.

"fuck," he mutters under his breath, voice tight with barely-contained desire. the feel of her slickness against his fingertips is overwhelming, making the moment crackle with intensity. he circles your swollen clit slowly, teasingly, watching her expression twist with pleasure, the way her body reacts to every move he makes.

"you’re so wet for me," he growls, the words rough and needy as his fingers dip lower, collecting more of your arousal. "i could’ve sworn i felt it earlier, but this… this is something else." his lips twitch into a wicked smirk, clearly enjoying how worked up she is beneath his touch.

her hips buck against his hand, seeking more friction, more of him. and baekhyun, ever the tease, obliges—but just enough to drive her wild, not enough to give her what she’s really craving.

"patience," he whispers, his breath hot against her ear. "i'm not finished making you fall apart for me yet."

baekhyun gently laid [✶] down on the chaise, his movements deliberate and tender. he carefully dismounted, kneeling in front of her with an almost reverent gaze. his fingers, deft and sure, began to lift her dress, his touch sending shivers across her skin. he slid her panties aside with practiced ease, the fabric brushing against her skin with a soft whisper.

"baekhyun, w-what are you doing?" she asked, her voice a mix of surprise and growing awareness. “here? right now?”

baekhyun's eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of her arousal, her sex glistening with an urgent sheen. with a deliberate, almost ceremonious motion, he lifted her legs onto his shoulders, his touch both possessive and tender. "i told you i was going to take care of you," his face dangerously close to her core. the delicious sight before her driving her to the brink of insanity. "try to stay still for me, my girl," he commanded, his voice low and sultry. 

baekhyun's heartbeat pounds in his ears as he instructs her to arch her hips, his voice low and commanding. she complies, letting him slide her panties down her legs with a deliberate slowness. he doesn’t even hide the wicked grin as he brings them to his nose, eyes fluttering closed while he inhales deeply before slipping them into his pocket. the sight makes her cheeks flush with heat.

"perv," she teases, biting her lip to hide the smile creeping onto her face.

“better get used to it,” baekhyun smirks, his voice dripping with sin. and before she can respond, he’s between her legs, wasting no time. she barely has a second to process what’s happening, her mind racing with the realization of just how exposed and vulnerable she is—they are. she glances around the rooftop, a quick check to make sure they’re still alone, but the feeling of baekhyun’s hot breath ghosting over her bare skin snaps her back into the moment.

he licks his lips, the hunger in his eyes making her pulse race. without another word, he leans in, delivering a slow, teasing kitten lick along her slit, and it sends an electric shock straight through her. her body reacts instinctively, arching toward him, desperate for more.

her breath quickens, chest heaving with anticipation as his mouth begins its slow, torturous exploration of her body. his lips trail soft kisses along the insides of her thighs, feather-light touches that only heighten her need. when his mouth returns to her soaked heat, it’s with a new intensity. he groans against her, his tongue swirling with a sinful hunger, and the sound vibrates through her core. 

the way baekhyun devours her—his lips, his tongue, the hum of satisfaction vibrating from his throat—has her head spinning. every moan of his is muffled against her, swallowed by her body, while his breathless praises spill out like worship between each kiss onto her pussy. “you taste so good, baby. so fucking sweet for me,” he groans, his words sending shivers through her. “i can't believe i went a week, a whole week, without tasting you.”

it’s taking everything in him not to lose control, but there’s more to this moment than just the physical need. this woman before him is his, wholeheartedly and irrevocably. and it’s not like he hasn’t tasted her before—he had been buried between her thighs just this last weekend, rearranging her insides like the fate of the world depended on it—but nothing compared to this.

this moment right here finalizes it for baekhyun. every doubt he ever had about being in a serious relationship with her? gone. out the fucking window. he can’t go another day without tasting this sweet cunt of hers. without being wrapped in her warmth. and the way she’s responding, grinding herself against his delicious mouth as he devours her like a man starved, tells him everything he needs to know.

[✶] feels the same. she’s never been eaten out like this before—with so much passion, so much raw emotion. this isn’t just lust. it’s devotion, and she craves it, needs it. she’s never going to want anything less–she’ll never settle for less.

he swears the nearer she is to her climax, the sweeter she tastes, and the sight of her unraveling beneath him—her face contorted in pleasure—is enough to make him almost cum in his fucking slacks. this? this is heaven. and they both know they need it, this intimacy, every single day.

her hands tangle into his raven hair, tugging him closer, needing him deeper. the way his lips suck on her clit, the way his tongue flicks and swirls, it's maddening. she feels her thighs start to tremble, tightening around his head as the pleasure builds, her body practically singing with each movement of his mouth.

baekhyun’s grip on her hips tightens, anchoring her to him as he works her closer to the edge. the sound of her moans and the wetness of his eager tongue fills the air between them. he doesn’t stop, won’t stop, even as she feels herself tipping over the edge, until finally, the dam breaks and she’s falling, crying out his name as she comes undone beneath him.

even as the aftershocks pulse through her, baekhyun continues, savoring every drop of her release. his lips never leave her skin, not until she’s so sensitive that she gently pushes his head away, gasping for breath. he pulls back, lips glistening with her arousal, a satisfied grin on his face as he looks up at her.

“god you’re fucking perfect,” he murmurs, his voice thick with pride, and she can’t help but smile through the haze of her orgasm. “and all fucking mine.”

[✶] gazes down at baekhyun, her chest still heaving from the high he had just sent her crashing from. his bangs were damp, clinging messily to his forehead, his face slick with a mix of sweat and her release. he looked up at her, eyes hooded with a combination of adoration and raw, unrestrained lust. the sight of him like this, on his knees and completely wrecked by her, sent a rush of heat through her all over again.

without a second thought, she reached out, pulling him up toward her. he stood effortlessly, his body towering over hers as one hand braced against the back of the chaise while the other tenderly cradled her cheek. their lips crashed in a heated, desperate kiss, both of them lost in the moment. the taste of herself on his tongue sent sparks through her, reigniting a fire deep inside. she moaned into his mouth, pulling him closer, needing more of him, of everything.

“take me home then,” [✶] whispered breathlessly, her forehead resting against his, their lips just a breath apart. “take me home and show me how i’m yours.”

baekhyun’s dark eyes flashed, a wicked smile curling at the corner of his mouth. “i thought you’d never ask.”

s&v | mlist | ch.1 | ch.2 | ★ ch.3 try/effortless ★ | next

[artficlly]

smog & spirits [masterlist]

Marvel 1920s Gangster/Peaky Blinders Inspired Fantasy AU

gangsterboss!bucky x witch!reader

Bucky Barnes, the leader of Sootstone's Smog Boys, needs a favour. A nasty curse has been cast on him, and he needs a witch to help him break it.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fem reader, begging, orgasm denial, fingering, p in v, no aftercare, graphic wound description, blood/gore, graphic descriptions of stitching, religious punishment (lashings), angst, angst no comfort, comfort/fluff, sex magic, blood magic, potion for arousal, curses and hexes, criminals & crime, 1920s street gangs, witchcraft, possession, mediums, ghosts, hauntings, horror, smoking, brothels, pubs, gambling, alcohol, mention of death/violence/torture, bucky barnes has issues, bucky barnes is a dick, bucky barnes needs a hug, police brutality, vaguely british setting??, sexism, classism, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

main masterlist

CHAPTERS [4/10]

spirit-raiser pony club the premonition bloodties

[4ln-stay8]

A ski trip to remember

>sumarry: Lando went to a ski trip with you, Max and P but it doesn’t turn out the way he expected

>author’s note: not my best work but hopefully not my worst

>warnings: none i think

In the picturesque snowy mountains, you and Lando joined Max and Pietra for a ski trip. You were not familiar with skiing, opting to play in the snow while trying to persuade Lando into tubing.

You couldn't help but marvel at the snow-covered landscape. Lando, Max, and Pietra were eager to hit the slopes, but you were hesitant, having never skied before.

"I think I'll just enjoy the snow here, guys. Skiing seems a bit daunting." you said nervous

Lando, was always up for an adventure, he was always in for the adrenaline. You were the complete opposite. You loved adrenaline when you were confident in your safety, but skiing doesn’t feel that safe to you.

"Come on, baby! It's not that hard. You'll love it once you get the hang of it." said Lando trying to persuade you

"I'd rather stay on solid ground, thanks. But hey, how about we go tubing together? It's fun and way less intimidating." you exclaimed trying to find other winter activities you could do together

Lando rolled his eyes, dismissing the idea. He just wanted to enjoy the things he loved to do while he was on the well deserved break from his job and you suggesting to do other things even for once didn’t seem pleasing at this point.

The season was stressful for him, starting at the lowest point possible and fighting with whatever he had to be as close to the top as he could. He just wanted to recharge and relax and have fun, but he was too eager to enjoy the trip that he forgot to include you in it.

"Tubing? Seriously? That's so childish. You should've stayed home if you're not going to participate. Who comes on a ski trip if they don’t even ski?" He said annoyed

Feeling a bit hurt, you decided to stay back at the hotel and enjoy the snow on your own while the others had fun skiing together.

“Yeah well… uh… I’m gonna stay here while you guys enjoy the skiing” you said, your voice barely above a whisper

Lando just nodded and left with your friends up the mountain as you stood there thinking of ways to make the time pass.

You decided to take a leisurely walk, capturing the winter wonderland with Lando’s camera. However, your excitement turned to dismay when you found yourself slipping on ice.

"Ouch! This wasn't part of the plan." you said trying to cope with the pain

Unable to stand up, you called the hotel reception for help. An employee came to your rescue in short time asking you about your situation.

“Bonjour madame, what is the problem?” said the employee in a french accent

“I slipped on ice and my leg hurts. I can’t get up!” You said as tears slowly fell on your cheeks

“I’ll have a look” he said and started to check on your leg

The concerned employee arranged for you to be taken to a nearby hospital. At the hospital, you learned that your leg was lightly broken. With a cast on your foot, you returned to the hotel, hoping that Lando wasn’t at the hotel yet.

Meanwhile, Lando, Max, and Pietra returned to the room, oblivious to your misadventure.

“Today was epic babe! You should've joined us, Y/N. You don’t even know what you’ve missed” exclaimed Lando enthusiastically as he walked in the room

You appeared from the corner with crutches, and gave them a small and embarrassed weak smile.

“Well, I’m glad at least one of us had fun.” You whispered loud enough for them to hear

Lando's eyes widened as he met your body. He rushed to your side, concern evident in his eyes. You looked at him then at your friends who were just as worried as your boyfriend.

"What happened baby? Are you okay?" said Lando trying to check if the rest of you was fine

“How did you manage to injure yourself?” Asked Max concerned

You started to explain the mishap, Lando and your friends listening carefully to your story. “I went to look around trying to make some photos and I slipped on ice. Apparently I broke my leg a little” you said avoiding everyone’s eyes

"I should've been there with you. I'm sorry for calling you childish. This is all my fault. Let me help you, okay? I’ll make it up to you!” Exclaimed Lando, his voice a mix of regret and concern

“Hey, it’s not your fault that I slipped. It wasn’t nice of you to speak to me like that but this isn’t your fault.” You reassured him

“I’ll stay in tomorrow so I can take care of you” said Lando, a serious expression present on his face

“You don’t have to. I can take care of myself! Well… mostly!” You exclaimed not wanting Lando to spend the rest of the trip looking after you

“No baby! You are hurt and it’s my job to take care of you!” He tried to make a point but you disagreed

“You’re not wasting the trip just because I’m clumsy! Do that and I’ll never forgive you!’ You said firmly

“But…” he got interrupted by you before he could properly begin his sentence

“No but! It’s enough that I made the trip less fun because I’m afraid to try skiing. I refuse to make this even worse by having you take care of me! You guys go have fun while I get some nice time inside” you said smiling softly knowing that whatever you will do inside will be boring as hell

“You didn’t made things less fun Y/n! We were just to excited to ski that we made this trip less fun for you” said P with a sympathetic voice

For the rest of the trip you stayed inside while Lando and you friends would go outside and have fun. Lando was on the phone with you as much as he could try to involve you in the fun activities.

The trip was filled with a mix of laughter, concern, and a newfound appreciation for each other's choices. The unexpected turn of events brought the group closer, making the ski trip a memorable experience for everyone, especially for you.

[saintmurd0ck]

cherry red

masterlist

pairing: frank castle x f!reader

summary: you and frank break into a vintage car dealership to scope something out for agent madani, and it turns out that you have a little time to spare before the drop happens

warnings: mentions of cocaine (no drug use), breaking and entering, the FBI lmao, shameless flirting, calling frank big boy, pain kink if you squint, (very little) spit because how else do you up frank's pleasure *gunshot*, unprotected p in v, creampie, goodbye i'm going to bed

a/n: for everyone who agrees that frank should be called 'big boy', this is for you!!! also this is my first full length frank fic lets fucking go

There’s not a sound but the rustle of your clothes as you case the dealership, Frank following closely behind you. He looks over his shoulders—a cautionary measure, despite the fact that the owners are on the other side of the world—before thumbing at the light switch on the wall.

Fluorescent lights flicker on in stages, a steady, low hum of electricity filling the space. Your eyes squint as you adjust to the brightness.

Frank looses a bated breath. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit,” you affirm, casting your gaze across the almost-cavernous, windowless room. Rows and rows of vintage cars stare back, their timeless, luxurious finishes glinting in the white light.

“That’s gotta be worth more than…” you trail off, looking down at your hands.

“Twenty-two million dollars. This room alone,” Frank finishes.

You swear, stepping forwards to skim your fingers along a chromed side mirror, then bending down to check your reflection. “So what are we looking for again?”

Frank sets his duffel bag down onto the reception desk, careful not to disturb the fanned business cards adorning the surface. “Guns, coke, contraband,” he lists. “Whatever we can find.”

“Hmm.”

“What?” Frank asks, bewildered. His attention snaps to you.

“Is there a car in particular we’re looking for?”

“Honestly sweetheart, I dunno. If we gotta sweep every single one, that’s what we gotta do.”

You push up off your knees, weaving in and out of the cars. “Before the auction, yeah?”

“S’right,” he grunts, pulling out a silver crowbar. “Smart girl.”

Ignoring the heat now searing your face, you focus on trying to name the cars, although you really only recognise a few of them.

Your eyes warily glaze over a black 1962 Chevrolet Corvette, its headlights polished to perfection. Next to it there are a number of vintage Ferraris, one Aston Martin, and a newer model Rolls Royce in the corner.

But one car in particular snags your eye, knocking the breath from you.

Frank whistles. “She’s pretty.”

You shoot him an incredulous glare, slightly offended he’d say that about the car and not you.

He’s not wrong, though.

It’s an old Mercedes. A 1961 Roadster, you think, marvelling at the almost pearlescent ivory paint restoration, the perfectly polished hubcaps, and the smooth leather interior of the deepest cherry red. You’re transfixed as you hear the engine in your mind, the revving beneath your feet, feeling the phantom breeze ruffling your hair as you speed down the highway with no destination in mind.

“You know what I think?” Frank says, clearing his throat, but you’re caught in your fever dream, music blaring from a shut-off radio that’s only active in your head. “I think…” he trails off, voice dropping to a bare whisper.

You whirl around as a loud clang drags you back to the present, one of the gleaming Mercedes-Benz hubcaps laying flat on the ground.

“What the hell, Frank?” you glower, eyes widening.

He responds with a grunt as he moves to the driver’s side, leaning his bodyweight into the crowbar as the next hubcap pops off.

Your hands fly to your face as he continues to move around the car, vandalising it beyond—

Oh.

The corners of Frank’s mouth curl into a wry smirk. “Fuckin’ knew it.”

He motions for you to come over, using his crowbar to pry out several small, duct-tape-wrapped packages from inside the wheel. “Dumbest fuckin’ hiding place I’ve ever seen.”

He pats the passenger door. “Gotta give it to ‘em, though. Moving drugs through cars at an auction? It’s a Ponzi scheme, but a goddamn good one.”

“This what I think it is?” you ask, crouching down next to him, irresolutely turning one of the bricks over.

He nods, pulling a knife tucked into his boot before sticking it into one of the packages. He dips his hand into the opening, rubbing what looks to be a white powder in between his fingers.

“Time to call Madani,” he grits, placing the brick back on the ground. “Could you do that f’me, sweetheart?”

Biting your lip, you pull out your phone to dial Madani’s number, wincing as Frank digs out the rest of the cocaine from your beloved Roadster. In eager anticipation, she picks up after the first ring, and the drop is arranged for 2.30 AM.

That leaves you thirty minutes to spare.

“So, Frank,” you remark, tucking your phone back in your pocket, “do we need to check any of the other cars?”

He sets the crowbar on the ground, getting up to lean against the front passenger side door. “Nah,” he replies, folding his arms across his chest, “FBI’s problem now.”

The growing smile on your face turns suggestive. “Guess we have time to kill before they show up, hm?”

Frank cocks his head. “And what’s that supposed to mean, sweetheart?”

You stride towards him, reaching out your hands to uncross his arms so they lay straight at his sides. Trailing the tip of your index finger up his chest, you circle the outline of his mouth. It catches on his bottom lip as you drag it back down, and he shudders at the lightness of your touch.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, big boy?” you grin.

He moves off the car, rolling his eyes as you saunter to the driver’s side, brows furrowing as you go to unlatch the door. The red leather is cool beneath you as you slide in, hands instinctively going to grip the wheel. Imagining the engine roaring to life, you press your foot down on the accelerator, as far as it’ll go.

“You’re playing with me, aren’t you?” Frank chuckles, running a hand through his hair.

“Maybe,” you muse, aware of the mischievous glint in your eyes. “If that’s something you want.”

“You haven’t had any of the white stuff, have ‘ya? ‘Cause you’re sure acting like it.”

“Dick,” you swear. “We’re surrounded by nice cars, Frank. How do you expect me to behave?” Taking your hands off the wheel, you twist in your seat to face him. “Surely they’d have the keys here somewhere, right?”

He scoffs. “Yeah, like they’d keep the keys to a four hundred thousand dollar car here.”

“Awww,” you pout, “but I wanna go for a ride.”

Frank’s ears perk up. “S’that so?”

You lean back against the seat, running your tongue over your lips. “In this car.”

“What, and you think I can help with that?”

You bat your eyes at him. “Don’t get too flattered, but I think you’re the only person in the world who can help with that right now.”

“Right now?” he shoots back. “Just right now, huh?”

“Shut up and get over here before I rescind my request, Castle.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him move that fast, because he climbs into the passenger side, scrambling to get you on his lap.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, hands finding your waist, guiding you back and forth over his hardening cock. His breath fans your neck as he nips at your pulse, spreading his legs apart on the seat.

You tip your chin downwards, your lips messily crashing into his, his mouth—his body—warm and supple against yours. He shifts his hips, slotting himself between your thighs and into the one place you need him most. At this rate, the friction of your clothing is almost too much to bear, but you’ve always been one to toe the line between pain and pleasure.

Especially when Frank’s involved.

Your body clenches as he palms your clit, groaning your name into your skin, etching kisses along the curve of your jaw. He skirts the hem of your top, slipping his tongue into your mouth before lifting it over your head, leaving it in a scandalous pile on the driver’s side.

“Naughty girl,” he laughs dryly, adding your bra to the pile along with his own shirt. “Tell me this isn’t what you thought of first when you saw the car.” He stiffens as you catch his bottom lip with your teeth.

“Don’t tell me you aren’t enjoying it,” you croon, the jovial note of your amusement diffusing itself into the vast space of the dealership. Your fingers roam along the plane of his stomach, feeling his abs contort underneath your touch. “Pretty boy.”

Resting his hands on either side of your spine, Frank swipes his thumbs over your nipples, intently staring as you throw your head back, rolling your hips into his. You squeeze your thighs into his sides as he seals his mouth over one of your breasts, flicking his tongue over the pebbled flesh.

“Bruise—“ he groans, his voice caught in a hoarse whisper. Oh, right, you remember, looking down at the purple splotch stretching across the ribs on his right side.

But you don’t let up, not when he’s driving you mad and touching you like this. You dig your knee into the bruise lightly, waiting for his body to seize, for his panting to echo before putting it back down on the seat.

“You’re a fuckin’— animal—“

Something compels you to do it again, but he slaps your leg away, retaliating by sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You cry out his name, the echo of it thundering in your ears.

“Dick,” you gasp, slamming your palms into his chest. You gripe at the fact that he loses himself in a quiet sort of laughter, and that he’s all chiseled muscle and not putty in your hands.

“You insulting me or s’that what you want?”

The mirthful gleam in his eyes flicker as he looks you up and down, waiting for your next move.

“Fine,” you say, a little too scornful considering the situation you’ve found yourself in, moving to undo his belt. Pausing once to take your own pants off, your fingers move deftly to unbutton his jeans before you tug them down and off his legs. Not taking your gaze off of him, you brace one hand on his shoulder while the other slowly creeps up his thigh.

Frank squirms beneath you, his lips pressing into a thin line as you cup his balls. Your breathing turns shallow as you wrap your hand around his shaft, running your thumb over the precum glistening on the head of his cock.

“Fuckin’— shit—,“ he hisses as you squeeze him. You hinge forward to nip his earlobe, to whisper filthy nothings in his ear, but he bucks his hips upwards, almost reflexively.

And that is something too good to pass up.

“Feel good, Frankie?” you ask, moving to stroke him up and down, ensuring your pace is just shy of what he likes on himself.

“Mm—“

“I think this’ll feel better,” you interject, pausing to spit on his cock.

Frank’s mouth parts in a wide groan at the added lubrication, and the way you’ve so brazenly spat on him, narrowly missing the priceless cherry red leather. Not that having sex in this car isn’t already brazen to begin with.

Clambering back onto his lap, you nudge his cock into your opening, coating him in the slick of your arousal. You press your face against his cheek as he pushes himself inside you, moaning into his mouth at the sensation of his thick head stretching you out. It burns, but it burns so fucking good.

He grits his teeth as he eases you down on him, guiding you inch-by-inch until you're so full you can barely breathe, your core tightening to the point where you wonder if he can feel pleasure at all.

He reminds you that yes, in fact he can, because he's cursing under his breath, gripping the dashboard so goddamn hard you think he might leave half-moon marks in the shape of his nails. He jerks his hips into yours, driving himself so deep you see stars for a second, whispering into the trance of your intimacy that you're his girl and that you feel so fuckin' tight he might burst at any given moment.

Now accommodated to his size, you fling your arms around his neck as you begin to move, resting your forehead against his. You roll your hips in languid, circular motions, fingers curling in the short hair at the nape of his neck.

"God fucking damn, Frank," you whimper, switching to bounce on his lap, holding onto the top of the seat for extra support. He sends you into a catatonic state of delirium as his thick cock hits deeper in this position, and soon you're squeezing around him, crying his name and falling over the edge of satisfaction.

Frank buries his face in your tits as you collapse onto his chest, your body still moving to the rhythm pounding inside your head.

"Hey, hey sweetheart," he says gently, moving to caress your jaw. "You okay?"

You flash him a weak smile, holding out a thumbs-up. "Keep going, Frank. M'not done yet."

"You sure?"

Raising your hips only to slam them back down on his seems to give him the reassurance he's seeking. Thrill shoots up your spine as he pulls you into him, wrapping his arms around your waist.

His tone is nothing short of wicked. "I do as I'm told, yeah?"

He drills himself into you, setting a ruthless pace, mouth roving over every accessible inch of bare skin. You thank every god you can think of for making this place soundproof, because the two of you would be so incredibly dead if anyone could hear the sounds coming from your mouth.

You fall apart on his cock more times than you can count, burying your face in his neck as Frank's thrusts become more erratic and sloppy, his strokes faltering with every passing second.

"M'gonna cum for you," he groans, throwing his head back against the seat and lurching his arm towards the top of the windscreen. He presses one last open-mouthed kiss to your collarbone as his hips stutter, spilling every last drop inside you.

"Fuck," he whispers, his cock twitching as you finally muster the energy to get off of him. He looks down at himself, horrified, and you follow his eye line to the mess on the seat between his thighs.

You choke, caught between a laugh and a gasp, equally panicking at how you're going to clean it up and possibly more importantly, how Madani isn't going to figure out what you've just done.

"Guess we can call this hard evidence for the FBI?" you sputter, trying your best to swallow your growing smirk.

Frank's cheeks turn red as he blows out a breath. "S'alright. This belonged to an asshole and it was gonna be bought by an even bigger one." He shrugs. "If I can't put 'em down, this is the least they owe me."

"You know Frankie, sometimes your logic is flawed, but I think you're right on this one."

He goes to smack your ass, but as you pull your panties on, your phone lights up in the footwell of the car, its shrill ringtone deafening to your ears.

MADANI

You glance at Frank, a humorous expression dancing across your face. "Good timing, huh?"

"Ain't that right."

tags {x} for all my frank girlies!!! <3 (I'M SORRY IF I FORGOT SOMEONE I'M SO NOT OK RIGHT NOW)

@marvelswh0re @murdock-and-the-sea @itwasthereaminuteago @munsonownsmyass @reborn-rekall @castlesnchurches @chellestrash @darlingshane @chvoswxtch @stress--relief @pedrito-friskito

[truetogaia]

mihihihih look at him snuggling hes so adorable

pairing: jake x na'vi!reader

genre: fluffy smut, 18+

notes: I'm back in my soft jake brainrot era and so obsessed w the "morning lovers" theme ARGH!!! My main thought is dilf!jake but yall can imagine whatever version u want :)

warnings: EXPLICIT AND MATURE THEMES, p in v, v penetration, foreplay, no protection, no pull out oopsies.

word count: ab 1k!

!NOT PROOFREAD! I Jake sully masterlist!

The warmth of the morning sun enveloped the two of you where you laid, snoozing in a loving embrace. Rays of light painted your skin with golden spots as they crept in through the cracks of your secluded hut. Your home. A very loved home, where you and your beloved resided, and in which the two of you had shared many precious memories. 

Your eyes fluttered open as a light beam hit your face, pupils dilating and contracting, struggling to adjust to the brightness. A strong pair of arms were wrapped around your middle, slightly restricting you as you moved to stretch your sore, aching muscles. You groaned as you stretched out fully, failing to ignore the pain.

“Damn I must’ve tired you out real good last night, hm?” Jake’s croaky voice startled you. He chuckled at your expression, mouth slightly agape, lips puffy in that “newly woken up” kind of way. A warm smile settled upon your features as the two of you relished in this tender moment. Arms and legs intertwined, chests rising and falling synchronized, eyes sharing that feeling of deep love and endearment. 

Jake placed a light kiss on your nose, bringing his hands up to gently hold your face as he peppered it with kisses and pecks, making you squeal and squirm. His hands wandered down your form, until they found their resting place on your hips. 

“You’re so beautiful,” His mouth traveled to your jaw as he spoke, voice raspy from just waking up, “so amazing,” his kisses trailed down your neck, turning sloppy, “so soft.” 

His sudden affection caused a heat to set between your plush thighs, your need for him growing rapidly with every sloppy kiss pressed onto your burning skin. His hands wandered further down, gliding across your smooth skin. You felt his digits ghost over your inner thighs, then tracing a line down the center of your clothed cunt. He slipped one finger beneath the fabric, moving it to the side to slide a digit through your soaked folds. 

“Damn, I’ve only kissed you and you’re already this wet? My poor sweetheart.” He cooed, placing a kiss to your temple before moving his fingers to rub circles onto your neglected clit. Your slick quickly coated them, earning a chuckle from your dear mate. “Haven’t even touched you that much, and you’re almost ready to take me. Such a needy girl, yeah?” Jake slipped one finger inside of you, then added another one as your soft moans grew in volume. 

He couldn’t help himself, your sweet noises and the sound of your squelching cunt played like a soft melody in his ears. He quickly undid his loincloth, removing yours equally as fast. 

“Jake, calm down. I’m not going anywhere.” A giggle left your lips, before they met his in a sweet kiss. He groaned into your mouth, slightly taken aback. Now it was your hands wandering, down his tummy, over every curve of his muscles. He pulled away to gasp as you wrapped your warm hand around his rock hard cock, pumping it in a painfully slow pace. 

Jake placed his hands on your shoulders, carefully moving you to lay back. He hovered over you, eyes laced with love as he marveled at your beauty, completely enthralled by your features. 

“I love you,” He kissed your cheek lovingly, “so much.” A doting smile graced your features at his affection. You cupped his face, bringing him into another kiss. His hand wrapped around his length, pumping it a few times before he brought it to your wet entrance. Jake gently placed a hand under your thigh, casting your leg on his broad shoulder.

He pushed in slowly, tip first, relishing in the way your hot cunt enveloped him, kissing and nipping at your inner calf. He sank into you, letting your velvet walls mold after the shape of his cock. You hummed as he bottomed out, eyelashes fluttering as you adjusted to the intrusion, ears twitching at the sensation of him stretching you out. Oh, but it was delicious, the way his cock fit perfectly, like he was made specifically for you. 

“I love you too, my pretty boy.”  

He beamed at the nickname, beginning to move his hips, bucking into you with languid and tender movements. Gently cupping his face, you brought him into a sloppy kiss, his cock thrusting in and out of your squelching heat. Your moans were muffled by his soft lips, working on yours, swallowed up by his tongue which was eagerly exploring your mouth.

He broke the kiss to get some air. Truthfully, he wished he never had to pull away for air, he wanted to kiss you all the time. Oh how he loved you, his beautiful mate. Your noises were soft, quiet moans escaping your plump lips with every rhythmic buck of his hips. He smiled as his soft gaze wandered, taking in every curve that formed your body, the pattern of your stripes, the placement of your glowing freckles. 

“Damn, princess, you’re a pretty lookin’ thing.” 

You giggled at his teenage behavior, feeling a familiar knot begin to build in your abdomen, growing bigger as Jake pumped his length into you. You reached for him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and then you heard it. A low, rumbling sound coming from somewhere deep within him. He purred as you ran your hands along his back. Nobody had ever purred in your company before. 

Your focus shifted as Jake’s thrusts became sloppier, growing lazier as he, too, came closer to his release. 

“Shit, ‘m g’nna cum, baby. Y’close?” You couldn’t speak, couldn't utter a word as immense arousal and pleasure coursed through you. “Yeah I bet you are.”  Jake’s cock prodded at your g-spot with every languid movement, every grind into your hips. “So, so pretty.” His digits found your neglected bundle of nerves, the pad of his thumb now rubbing you in sync with his sensual thrust. 

“Hmmn Jake..” The knot in your abdomen finally snapped, slick gushing out of your poor, throbbing cunt. Jake followed suit, spilling his warm seed into you, overwhelmed by the way your pussy clamped down on his cock. He kissed your forehead as he pulled out, falling into you as you opened your arms to him.

As both of you came down from your highs, limbs tangled in a warm, sticky embrace, you suddenly remembered the noise he made. Deciding to ask him, you looked down, only to find him snuggled up on your chest, breathing heavily. He was asleep. 

[kingsonne-zedecks]

It's Here!

Cradle Animation Trailer

The trailer for the upcoming animation of the bestselling novel series Cradle, by Will Wight, produced by Jay Oliva at Lex + Otis Animation Studio has been released at last!

Cradle

Cradle is an amazing fantasy series by author Will Wight that reached its conclusion with the publishing of Book 12: Waybound, in 2023. Cradle is a western interpretation of the Xianxia genre, which can be described as "Magical Martial Arts."

As shown in the trailer, Cradle follows the journey of Wei Shi Lindon as he starts a journey of growth rather than remaining the weak Unsouled that his Clan has labeled him.

Fans of Naruto, Demon Slayer, Dragon Ball, Avatar the Last Airbender and more will all find elements from the stories they love in Cradle.

Lex + Otis Animation Studio

Cradle is being animated by Jay Oliva and his studio, Lex and Otis. If you don't recognize the name, you'll probably recognize some of his past work, particularly his work with DC Animations in general and Batman in specific.

His studio is equally impressive, and released a bit of a showcase of some of their more recent work that you can see here (in addition to the Cradle teaser, you did already watch that a couple of times right?)

The Cradle animation is a passion project for Jay, who loved the books so much that he reached out to Will to make sure that he had the chance to see them brought to the screen.

The Cast

The upcoming animation already has a fantastic cast announced, with more to come. The following have already been confirmed for the project.

Travis Baldree

Phil Lamarr

Steve Blum

Matt Mercer

Morla Gorrondona

Baraka May

Sumalee Montano

Maxine Phoenix

Matt Yang King

Where/When/How Can I Watch?

Will and Jay have really put the Tease in Teaser, as we'll have to live off of replaying the trailer and reading the books for the time being. But more is to come, and announcements will continue to be made as the project continues.

For those who have not been involved in the project yet, a brief explanation to get up to speed.

When Jay reached out to Will about the possibility of animating Cradle, Will decided to personally fund this trailer that they could then take to Netflix and Amazon and the likes to pitch the show. Then, together, they asked how much further they might be able to go, and so they reached out to the fans with a Kickstarter that ended up raising 1.25 million dollars.

Animation is expensive, especially when you choose to only work with studios that treat their employees well, so Will and Jay had to be smart with the money. The upcoming animation will be released to the fans as a thank you for our support in making this a reality, but it's real strength will be in supporting Will and Jay's original plan.

The 80-90 minute animatic that has been funded will be complete in mid to late 2025. With that, the teaser trailer, and the fans reactions in hand, Will and Jay will be able to approach platforms such as Netflix, Amazon, and Apple to pitch a full Cradle Animation.

Animatic?

Yes, Animatic. While the trailer is fully colored and animated, the final result of the kickstarted animation will not be. Here is a sample of the style of animation we will be getting next year

This particular animatic is taken from the website of Tiger Animation, which is the South Korean studio that Lex + Otis partnered with for the Cradle Teaser and many of their other projects.

The animatic we get will be fully voice acted and scored, and the only step remaining to turn it into full animation is the funding required to send it off to Tiger Animation. Tiger Animation has an amazing portfolio as well, including Avatar the Last Airbender, Castlevania, and a large number of both Marvel and DC Animations.

Animation Structure

The 80-90 minute animatic will be released as a standalone product and will cover the contents of the first two books of the Cradle Series, Unsouled and Soulsmith regardless of any potential contracts with distribution platforms like Netflix or Amazon.

If/When a platform picks up Cradle and decides to fund the full animation, the show will follow a fairly standard 22 minute episode format. As such the animatic will also serve as the first four episodes of season 1 of the show.

This was a creative decision made by Will and Jay as part of the adaptation process. A number of the fan-favorite characters are introduced in books two and three, and its fairly unanimous that any fan that wasn't hooked immediately, was hooked by the third book, Blackflame.

That is to say, that, while the first two books will only receive two episodes each, this will not be the pace the rest of the show follows. The total number of episodes per season is dependent on funding, but the goal is currently to take 4 season to tell the story of Cradle.

So What Now?

Well. Now we wait. But in the meantime, share the information about Cradle, watch the trailer, show it to your friends and family, read the books if you haven't already, check out the wonderful audiobooks narrated by Travis Baldree if you prefer listening, join us on reddit and discord to talk about things.

In addition to just exposing more people to a wonderful story, each bit of interaction with Cradle is another piece of evidence to show the streaming platforms and prove that a Cradle animation is worth the investment.

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Teasing the hell out of Charles Brandon or Henry Cavill to the point they make the reader pay😘❤️

I picked Charles Brandon because The Tudors was a whole thing for me, like I fell in love with the entire cast but also with Henry’s delicious ass. I remember the first time I saw it onscreen and just about passed out. Hims got cakes! And Charles had redeeming qualities so it was sort of easy to forgive him for being a dick. Anyways, here’s a shameless piece of smut!!

Title: Doing Something Unholy

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Charles Brandon x Reader

Fandom: The Tudors 

Summary: This is a prompt fill for @thereisa8ella who wanted some teasing of Charles Brandon and then him taking over. Enjoy!

Warnings: oral sex (m receiving), fingerfucking (f receiving), cock worship, orgasm denial (m receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, ball handling, choking, creampie

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

My Masterlist 

You awake to sunlight streaming in through the open curtains, a heavy weight across your middle, and soft snores rumbling in your ear. The musky odor of sex still lingers in the air and its heady scent goes right to your core. Shifting to your other side, you come face to face with a still-sleeping Charles Brandon.

This man was a god, how else could he be explained? That chiseled jaw, sinister smile, eyes like the ocean…and that’s just his perfect face. Below the neck, he was just as exquisite. Abdominals like sculpted marble, legs like strong tree trunks, and a cock like a third arm. Yes, he deserves to be worshipped. But you deserve your fun too.

You press on Charles’ shoulder to get him to lie on his back, waiting until his snores return. You shift down the bedding so it just comes to his thighs and marvel at this man’s body once again. You inch closer to him, throwing a leg over his chest so your face hovers over his groin. 

You lean down and kiss his hips, snaking your tongue out to taste his freckles. Using your tongue, you draw a line down his Adonis belt to where it meets his cock. You place sweet kisses along the shaft and that stirs the Duke of Suffolk. He only moves his hips slightly and groans at first, but as you take him into your mouth, he fully awakes.

“What a beautiful view, who knew the sun rose at the same time as the moon?” He punctuates his sentence with a solid grip on both your asscheeks.

Letting his hardening cock slip from your mouth, you wiggle your hips in his face. He gets the hint soon enough, his deft fingers finding your folds and getting to work. You suck him down again and his digits slip inside. Your moans guide his ministrations, his grunts and thrusts highlighting that you have him right where you want him.

You ride Charles’ fingers until you feel the familiar break in your resolve, walls fluttering as he fucks you through your orgasm. You pause in your worship of Charles’ cock but with some incentive of his hand pushing on the back of your head, you get back to work. It’s then when you get the idea to edge him, something you’ve never done with him. First time for everything, right?

You take him to the hilt, your rose brushing his hairy sac, inhaling his musk. You swallow around him in your throat while playing with his balls, all while starting to ride his fingers again. You roll his balls between your fingers, moaning around his girth to elicit vibrations. When you feel the telltale ripple in the shaft, you pull off and squeeze his base. His orgasm is effectively ruined, and he can barely move as you cum again around his fingers.

You: 2. Charles: 0. 

You’re coming down from your high as Charles is landing a sharp slap to your swollen and sensitive clit. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?” You don’t have time to catch yourself as he throws you across the bed and slots himself between your thighs. Charles places his hands under each knee and pushes your legs into your chest, opening you fully for his enjoyment. He’s hard enough to enter you in one swift motion, your slippery folds welcoming him into their tight heat. “Trying to tease me, were you, love?”

“I don’t…know what…you mean,” Your words are cut off by deep and sure thrusts, your inner walls thoroughly stimulated.

“Where did my good girl go? Who is this temptress who denies me her warmth?” His pupils dilated, and he looks like a feral beast, wanting to claim his prize.

“Still…here,” You moan, failing to convince him of your innocence.

“No, she’s not here,” He wraps a hand around your neck and leans down to whisper into your ear, “You’re doing so well taking my cock, but I want to try something new. And you, my little spunk dump, are gonna take it.” He leans up and kisses the tip of your nose before tightening his grip on your neck and pounding into you until your combined grunts and wet slaps of skin are all there is to hear.

He holds your gaze, even when your eyes start to lose focus. He lets go of your neck as his hips stutter in their rhythm. You gasp for air as another orgasm rocks through you. Charles follows soon after, painting your walls with his heavy spend. He collapses on your chest without pulling out, your panting breaths the only sound in the room.

He leans back to look at you, utterly spent and exhausted. He pulls himself out of you slowly, watching his load leak out of you. He slaps the head of his dick against your sore clit a few times, earning him a satisfying whimper from your lips. He runs a hand between the valley of your breasts and leans up to kiss you and nuzzle your nose.

“Am I still your good girl?” You plead, not fully wanting to forget you got the upper hand on Charles.

“Hmmmm,” He draws it out, making it seem like he is thinking hard on the matter before chucking at your pout, “Of course you are! You will be my good girl forever, don’t you worry that pretty little head.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” You breathed, feeling satisfied and happy with how you spent your morning.

A/N: First time writing for Charles Brandon, he is fun to tease! Hope you enjoyed it!

**Tag List**

@enchantedbytomandhenry 

Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz! 😁

[marvelobsessed134]

Masterlist #1

This is my first masterlist. Second masterlist is on the pinned post in my profile

How to request, guidelines etc.

Marvel Women

Kate Bishop

Rizz You Up

Kinktober day two: Ghostface!Kate

Kinktober day eight: overstimulation

Natasha Romanoff

Caught

Little skirt

Package delivered

Watching you

Young, and dumb

Need help

GP!Beefy!Nat wakes up to you riding her abs (Drabble)

Captivity (My pretty little mermaid)

Dirty thoughts

Sundresses and breeding kinks

Wanda Maximoff

Control

Best friends sister

Julia Cornwall

In her web

Marvel Men

Bucky Barnes

Honeymoon Suite

Meet Cute

“Want me to suck your cock while driving?”

The one with the slutty maid and the sexually frustrated super soldier

Love me tender series

Steve Rogers

Sam Wilson

Peter Parker

Tony Stark

Mötley Crüe

Nikki Sixx

I’m only me when I’m with you

Don’t be shy, honey

Streamer!Reader headcannons

Behind closed doors

Good girl

Small town romance

Who do you belong to?

You shouldn’t be doing that…

Sneaking around

Kinktober day eleven: public sex

BDSM head cannons

Somebody’s watching me

Better? Better.

Save a horse, ride a cowboy

Tommy Lee

Midnight Comfort

Teenagers In Love

Runaway bride

Can we keep him!?

Friends help each other

Go team

Maroon

Little drummer girl

Sparks Fly series

Pretty When You Sleep

Plus One

Kinktober day nine: manhandling/tights ripping

Halloween party shenanigans

Attention you deserve

Surprise

Delicate flower series

First time

BDSM head cannons

It’s gonna be okay

Vince Neil

Thunderstorms

Sweet dreams

Please

It’s the little moments

Shades Of Cool

Our honeymoon (part one) part two

Kinktober day one: daddy kink

Plaything

She’s a riot grrrl

Mick Mars

Mermaid Motel

Streamer!reader headcannons

You know you want it

Kinktober day four: pet play

Multi-members

Two is better than one

Halloween/fall headcannons

Groupie Love (Gang Bang)

Cinderella (only writing for Tom and Eric)

Tom Keifer

Did you do that to her?

Up behind her with a pool stick

BDSM headcannons

“What is it, honey?”

Tom finding out you’re pregnant

Eric Brittingham

A pleasant surprise

Kiss (only writing for Paul, Tommy, and Gene)

Paul Stanley

I can see you

Underneath the surface

I fall to pieces when I’m with you

Prank call gone wrong

Teach you how

Tommy Thayer

You’re enough

One bed?!

Gene Simmons

Kinktober day 6: possessiveness

Guns N Roses

Izzy Stradlin

Kinktober day 5: handcuffs

Kinktober day 7: crying kink

Slash

Kinktober day 10: vouyerism

Barbie The Movie

Barbie

Starting to really like the real world

You can be the boss (STRLTRW part two, series masterlist coming soon)

CEO!Barbie AU masterlist

Marvel Cast/other celebrities

Sebastian Stan

Put me in a movie

W.A.S.P. (Only writing for Blackie)

Kinktober day 3: humiliation

Stranger Things

Steve Harrington

Domesticated

Daisy Jones and The Six

Daisy Jones

Her good slut

G!P Daisy x Stripper!Reader

LA Guns (Only Kelly atm)

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[kckt88]

The Picture of Aemond Targaryen I

Summary:

The story of a young man who sells his soul for eternal youth and beauty.

Warning(s): Language, Drugs, Sin, Indulgence, Debauchery, Kissing, Smut – Fingering, Oral Sex (M & F Receiving), P in V.

VICTORIAN ERA AEMOND TARGARYEN

INSPIRED BY THE BOOK/MOVIE - THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY

Word Count: 3750

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

The fog-shrouded streets of Victorian London welcomed Aemond Targaryen as he arrived in the bustling city, a hopeful yet innocent youth with dreams of a brighter future. With the passing of his grandfather, Otto Hightower, Aemond found himself thrust into a world of opulence and intrigue beyond his wildest imagination.

As he stepped out of the carriage onto the cobbled streets, Aemond's eyes widened with wonder at the sights and sounds of the city. Towering buildings loomed overhead, their grand facades casting long shadows upon the bustling thoroughfares below. Pedestrians bustled past, their attire a dizzying array of colours and styles, each one seemingly more extravagant than the last.

Guided by his grandfather's solicitor, Aemond made his way through the labyrinthine streets until they arrived at the opulent townhouse that would now be his home. The imposing structure stood as a testament to the wealth and power of the Hightower family, its grandeur unmatched by any other in the neighbourhood.

As he stepped through the ornate doorway, Aemond was greeted by the rich scent of polished wood and fine fabrics. The interior was a marvel of Victorian elegance, with intricately carved furnishings and sumptuous tapestries adorning every surface. It was a world far removed from the humble surroundings of his upbringing, and Aemond could scarcely believe that it was now his to inherit.

But amidst the grandeur, there lingered a sense of melancholy – a reminder of the grandfather he had lost, and the weight of responsibility now thrust upon his young shoulders. Otto Hightower had been a pillar of the community, revered by all who knew him, and Aemond was determined to honour his legacy in any way he could.

With a solemn resolve, Aemond set about making the townhouse his own, determined to carve out a place for himself in this new and unfamiliar world. Little did he know the trials and tribulations that awaited him amidst the gaslit streets of Victorian London, where danger and intrigue lurked around every corner. But for now, he allowed himself to bask in the glow of his newfound fortune, hopeful for the adventures that lay ahead.

After performing a mesmerizing piano solo in front of the upper classes of Victorian society, Aemond Targaryen found himself amidst a flurry of praise and admiration. As he basked in the warm glow of applause, a figure approached him, his presence commanding attention amidst the throng of well-dressed attendees.

"Bravo, Mr. Targaryen," the man said with a charming smile, his eyes alight with admiration. "Your performance was truly captivating."

Aemond returned the smile, feeling a flush of pride at the praise. "Thank you, sir," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of modesty. "I am glad you enjoyed it."

The man introduced himself as Criston Cole, a renowned painter whose works adorned the walls of the most esteemed galleries in London. He spoke of beauty and art with a passion that ignited a spark of curiosity within Aemond's soul.

"It would be an honour to capture your likeness on canvas, Mr. Targaryen," Criston said, his tone sincere. "Your beauty is a rare gift, one that should be preserved and admired for all to see."

Aemond hesitated, taken aback by the offer. He had always been told of his striking appearance, but to have it immortalized in paint was a prospect he had never considered.

"I... I am flattered, Mr. Cole," he stammered, his cheeks flushing with colour. "But I fear I am not worthy of such an honour."

Criston shook his head, a glint of determination in his eyes. "Nonsense, my dear boy," he said firmly. "You possess a beauty that transcends mere mortal standards. It would be a crime not to capture it for future generations to behold."

And so, with Criston's persuasive words ringing in his ears, Aemond found himself agreeing to sit for the portrait. Little did he know that this decision would mark the beginning of a journey that would forever change the course of his life, leading him down a path fraught with danger and sin.

In the lavish halls of a grand Victorian mansion, Aemond Targaryen found himself drawn into a conversation with Lord Tyland Lannister, a man whose reputation preceded him as an aristocrat with a hedonistic worldview. Lord Tyland exuded an air of confidence and charm, his every movement a testament to his belief that beauty and sensual fulfilment were the only things worth pursuing in life.

"Aemond Targaryen, a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Lord Tyland greeted with a smooth smile, his gaze appraising as he took in Aemond's striking features.

"The pleasure is mine, Lord Lannister," Aemond replied, returning the greeting with a polite nod. Despite his upbringing and the values instilled in him by his grandfather, Aemond couldn't help but feel a flicker of curiosity at the man before him, whose aura of decadence seemed to pull at him like a siren's call.

Lord Tyland's eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in closer, his voice low and seductive. "Tell me, Aemond, do you believe in the pursuit of pleasure above all else? In the beauty of indulgence and the ecstasy of desire?"

Aemond hesitated, unsure of how to respond to such a provocative question. His upbringing had taught him the virtues of duty and honour, but there was something intoxicating about Lord Tyland's words, a tantalizing allure that beckoned him to explore the depths of his own desires.

"I... I suppose I have never given it much thought," Aemond admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But there is certainly a certain appeal to the idea of... indulging in life's pleasures."

Lord Tyland's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with approval. "Ah, a man after my own heart," he exclaimed, clapping Aemond on the shoulder with a familiarity that bordered on intimacy. "Come, let us toast to the pursuit of beauty and pleasure, and may we revel in its delights together."

And so, with a sense of trepidation and excitement swirling within him, Aemond found himself drawn into Lord Tyland's world of hedonistic excess, where the boundaries between right and wrong blurred in the intoxicating haze of pleasure and desire. Little did he know the dangers that lurked beneath the surface, waiting to ensnare him in a web of temptation from which there may be no escape.

Seated in the dimly lit studio of Criston Cole, Aemond Targaryen found himself bathed in a soft, ethereal light as the artist worked diligently at his easel. Lord Tyland Lannister stood nearby, his keen eyes observing the scene with a mixture of admiration and amusement.

"My dear Aemond, you truly are a vision of perfection," Lord Tyland remarked, his voice tinged with a hint of awe. "Your beauty is timeless, a masterpiece in its own right."

Aemond offered a modest smile in response, though his thoughts were elsewhere. As he watched Criston deftly apply paint to canvas, a sense of unease settled in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't shake the feeling that this fleeting moment of youth and beauty was but a fragile illusion, destined to fade with the passage of time.

"Will you not sit for your own portrait, Lord Lannister?" Criston inquired, breaking the silence that had settled over the room.

Lord Tyland chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Alas, my dear Criston, my beauty is but a fleeting thing," he replied with a smirk. "Unlike our dear Aemond here, whose likeness will remain untouched by the ravages of time."

Aemond's heart skipped a beat at Lord Tyland's words, a sudden realization dawning upon him. His beauty, though captivating now, was not meant to last. And yet, the thought of growing old and withered filled him with a sense of dread unlike anything he had ever known.

"I... I cannot bear the thought of losing this," Aemond confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "To watch as my beauty fades, as I wither and decay... it is a fate too cruel to imagine."

Lord Tyland's gaze softened with understanding as he placed a comforting hand on Aemond's shoulder. "Then do not imagine it, my dear boy," he said gently. "For there are other paths one can take, other bargains one can strike to ensure that such a fate never befalls them."

Aemond's eyes widened with realization as Lord Tyland's words sank in. Could it be possible? Could he truly sell his soul in exchange for eternal youth and beauty, allowing the portrait to age and fade in his stead?

Without a second thought, Aemond made his decision. "I will do it," he declared, his voice firm with resolve. "I will sell my soul to ensure that the picture, rather than I, will age and fade."

And as the words left his lips, a shiver ran down Aemond's spine, for he knew that he had made a bargain from which there could be no turning back. But in that moment, as he watched Criston continue to work on his portrait, he felt a sense of peace wash over him, knowing that his beauty would endure for all eternity, even as he himself faded into obscurity.

As the days passed and the portrait of Aemond Targaryen neared completion, a subtle unease began to gnaw at his soul. Each time he entered Criston Cole's studio, his eyes were drawn inexorably to the painting, where he couldn't help but notice a subtle change, a shift in the delicate lines and hues that adorned the canvas.

At first, it was nothing more than a trick of the light, a shadow cast in just the right way to give the illusion of movement. But as Aemond studied the portrait more closely, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. The features that had once mirrored his own with uncanny accuracy now seemed to possess a life of their own, a vitality that pulsed beneath the surface like a living thing.

"It's remarkable, isn't it?" Criston remarked, his voice breaking the silence that had settled over the studio. "The way a portrait can capture the essence of its subject, preserving it for all eternity."

Aemond forced a smile, though his heart was heavy with doubt. "Indeed," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "Though I must confess, I find it... unsettling, to see myself so immortalized."

Criston's brow furrowed with concern as he studied Aemond's troubled expression. "Is there something wrong, my dear boy?" he inquired, his tone gentle.

Aemond hesitated, unsure of how to voice the fears that had been gnawing at his soul. "It's just... the portrait," he began, his voice trailing off. "It seems to have changed since its creation. Almost as though... it's alive."

Criston's expression softened with understanding as he placed a comforting hand on Aemond's shoulder. "Fear not, my dear Aemond," he said reassuringly. "It is only natural for a portrait to evolve over time, as the artist imbues it with the essence of its subject. It is a testament to your own vitality, your own spirit, that the painting should reflect such subtle nuances."

But Aemond could not shake the feeling of dread that had settled over him like a shroud. For in that moment, he realized that the portrait was not merely a reflection of his own beauty, but a mirror into the depths of his soul.

In the glittering world of Victorian London's theatre scene, Aemond Targaryen found himself captivated by the enchanting performance of a stage actress named Alysanne Rivera. Her beauty was radiant, her talent undeniable, and with each graceful movement across the stage, she seemed to cast a spell upon all who beheld her.

After the performance, Aemond found himself lingering near the stage door, unable to tear his eyes away from the ethereal figure that emerged from within. As Alysanne's gaze met his own, a smile played across her lips, and Aemond felt his heart skip a beat in response.

"Mr. Targaryen, what a pleasant surprise," Alysanne greeted with a warmth that sent a shiver down Aemond's spine. "Did you enjoy the performance?"

Aemond nodded eagerly, his voice tinged with admiration. "It was magnificent, Miss Rivera," he replied earnestly. "You are truly a vision of beauty and grace."

Alysanne's cheeks flushed with a becoming blush as she thanked him for his kind words. And as they spoke, Aemond found himself drawn deeper into the enchanting spell of her presence, his fascination growing with each passing moment.

But amidst the newfound connection between Aemond and Alysanne, there lingered a sense of unease – a tension that seemed to simmer just beneath the surface. And as Aemond glanced over his shoulder, he caught sight of Criston Cole watching them from across the room, his expression oddly inscrutable.

"Is something the matter, Mr. Cole?" Aemond inquired, unable to shake the feeling that there was more to his friend's demeanour than met the eye.

Criston's smile was strained as he approached, though his voice remained composed. "Nothing of consequence, my dear Aemond," he replied, though there was a hint of unease in his tone. "I was merely admiring Miss Rivera's performance, much like yourself."

But Aemond could sense that there was more to Criston's reaction than he was letting on. And as he glanced back at Alysanne, a sense of foreboding settled over him like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over the burgeoning connection between them.

Little did Aemond know, the threads of fate were already weaving a tangled web around him, entangling him in a web of desire and jealousy from which there may be no escape. And as he found himself drawn deeper into the enchanting spell of Alysanne Rivera, he could only wonder what dark secrets lay hidden beneath the surface of their newfound romance.

As the nights in Victorian London grew longer and the shadows deeper, Aemond found himself drawn into a world of forbidden pleasures, where the boundaries between reality and fantasy blurred in the intoxicating haze of opium smoke.

Guided by Criston Cole and Lord Tyland Lannister, Aemond ventured into the dark underbelly of the city, where opium dens beckoned with promises of oblivion and ecstasy. The air was thick with the scent of incense and whispered secrets as they descended into the depths of their own desires.

Within the dimly lit confines of the opium den, Aemond felt a sense of liberation wash over him like a tidal wave, casting aside the constraints of society and duty in favour of the euphoria that pulsed through his veins. With each inhale of the drug, he felt himself drifting further and further from reality, lost in a kaleidoscope of colours and sensations.

And as he reclined upon the plush cushions, surrounded by the flickering glow of lanterns and the distant murmur of voices, Aemond surrendered himself to the intoxicating embrace of opium, losing himself in a world of pleasure and sensation beyond his wildest dreams.

But amidst the hedonistic revelry, there lingered a sense of emptiness – a gnawing void that could not be filled by the fleeting euphoria of the drug. And as Aemond gazed into the depths of his own reflection, he could not shake the feeling that he was chasing after something that could never truly be attained, a mirage shimmering on the horizon of his own desires.

Yet still, he returned to the opium dens night after night, unable to resist the pull of their siren song. For in the depths of his soul, Aemond knew that he was searching for something more – something that could only be found in the darkest recesses of his own desires. And until he found it, he would continue to chase after the elusive promise of oblivion, heedless of the consequences that awaited him in the shadows.

In the dimly lit corners of Victorian London's seedy underbelly, Aemond couldn’t stop himself from seeking solace in the arms of prostitutes, their whispered promises of pleasure offering a fleeting escape from the turmoil that churned within his soul.

Despite his growing connection with Alysanne, Aemond found himself drawn to the forbidden allure of the brothels, where desire and temptation lurked around every corner. With each encounter, he lost himself in a whirlwind of carnal ecstasy, the weight of his guilt momentarily forgotten in the throes of passion.

But even as he revealed in the embrace of the women who offered themselves up to him, Aemond could not shake the nagging sense of remorse that gnawed at his conscience. For with each act of indulgence, he felt himself drifting further and further from the purity of his love for Alysanne, his heart torn between duty and desire.

And as the whispers of scandal began to swirl around him, Aemond knew that he was playing a dangerous game – one that could cost him everything he held dear. Yet still, he could not resist the allure of the brothels, the promise of fleeting pleasure outweighing the consequences that loomed on the horizon.

In the dark recesses of his mind, Aemond wrestled with his demons, his soul torn asunder by the conflicting desires that waged war within him. And amidst the chaos of his own making, he wondered if he would ever find redemption for the sins he had committed, or if he was doomed to drown in the depths of his own depravity.

As Aemond stood before the portrait that Criston Cole had painstakingly crafted, he felt a chill run down his spine. The likeness that once captured his youthful beauty now seemed to twist and contort before his very eyes, mirroring the darkness that lurked within his soul.

Gone were the serene features that had adorned the canvas just days before, replaced by a grotesque visage that seemed to mock him with every brushstroke. The lines etched into his skin were deeper now, resembling the scars of his own sins, while his eyes bore a haunted look that sent shivers down Aemond's spine.

His heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the twisted reflection of his own sins, a sense of horror washing over him like a tidal wave. How had the portrait come to reflect the darkness that lurked within him? And what did it mean for his own soul, tainted as it was by the weight of his guilt?

But amidst the fear and confusion, a voice whispered in the depths of Aemond's mind – a voice that spoke of a bargain struck in desperation, a bargain that had unleashed forces beyond his control. And as he gazed into the eyes of his own likeness, he knew that he could no longer deny the truth that lay before him.

For the portrait was not merely a reflection of his own beauty, but a mirror into the depths of his own soul – a soul that had been tainted by the sins he had committed. And as he watched in horror, the painting seemed to shift and change before his very eyes, its twisted visage a chilling reminder of the darkness that lurked within him.

With a sense of urgency gnawing at his conscience, Aemond carefully wrapped the cursed portrait in a thick cloth, shielding its twisted visage from the prying eyes of the world. Every brushstroke seemed to mock him with the weight of his own sins, a reminder of the darkness that lurked within his soul.

With trembling hands, Aemond made his way to the attic of his opulent townhouse, the portrait cradled against his chest like a forbidden secret. The air was thick with dust and the musty scent of neglect, but it was here, amidst the shadows and cobwebs, that he would hide the painting away from the world.

As he reached the top of the stairs, Aemond set the portrait down gently upon a dusty table, his heart heavy with the burden of his secret. With a deep breath, he lifted the cloth, revealing the twisted visage that lay beneath.

Pausing momentarily before he covered the portrait once more, shielding it from the light of day. And as he stepped back into the darkness of the attic, he knew that he had sealed away not only the painting, but the secrets that lay buried within his own soul.

But even as he turned to leave, a voice whispered in the depths of his mind – a voice that spoke of the darkness that lurked within him, waiting to be unleashed upon the world once more.

Criston Cole's voice echoed through the halls of Aemond townhouse, his excitement palpable as he spoke of displaying the portrait to the world. "Aemond, my dear friend," he exclaimed, his words tinged with anticipation, "the time has come to unveil your portrait to the public. The world deserves to see your beauty immortalized in paint."

Aemond's heart skipped a beat at the thought, his mind racing with panic as he searched for an excuse to delay the inevitable. "I... I'm afraid that won't be possible, Criston," he stammered, his voice tinged with desperation. "You see, I've put the portrait into storage for safekeeping. I fear that it may not be ready to be displayed just yet."

Criston's brow furrowed with confusion as he studied Aemond's troubled expression. "But why, my dear friend?" he inquired, his tone laced with concern. "Surely the world is ready to behold your beauty in all its glory. Why hide it away when it deserves to be celebrated?"

Aemond's mind raced as he searched for a plausible explanation, his heart pounding in his chest with the weight of his own deception. "It's... it's complicated, Criston," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "There are forces at work that you cannot begin to understand. Trust me when I say that it's for the best."

Criston's expression softened with understanding as he placed a comforting hand on Aemond's shoulder. "Very well, my dear friend," he said gently. "If you believe it to be for the best, then I will respect your wishes. But know that your beauty deserves to be celebrated, no matter the circumstances."

As Criston turned to leave, Aemond felt a sense of relief wash over him like a tidal wave, though it was tinged with the knowledge that his deception could not last forever. For the portrait that lay hidden away in the darkness of the attic was a reflection not only of his own beauty, but of the darkness that lurked within his soul – a darkness that was consuming him with each day that passed.

TBC