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ornii · 8 months ago

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“I Do not love you, …I Tolerate You.”

Daenerys Targaryen X Male Lannister Reader

(Y/n) Lannister, King of House Lannister, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, and the Father of Golden Lions, Mourning the Death of his Love, an unknown force calls claim to the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons.

Warning: Hey, you like thighjobs? No? Well too bad we got them!

Kings Landing, the final destination for kings and queens to either rule or die trying. For you it was the first, but it came with much loss.

Being born a Lannister you had some obligations to uphold, son of an Imp, you had much to live up to and deal with. But more importantly, you had fallen for one woman specifically.. Margery. Unlike Tommen and Joffrey, you weren’t as Naive and Foolish as them, Tyrion made sure of that. Teaching you the way the game of thrones is played was essential to survive in this world. She respected your opinions, ideals, wishes. Her Marriage to Joffrey was one of necessity, yours was out of love. A love that was quickly shattered and burned by one Cersei Lannister.

Joffrey was Murdered, Your father Tyrion put on trial, and in return he escapes, Kills your grandfather Tywin, and escapes. Leaving Tommen to pick up the pieces, Tyrion was never seen in Kings Landing again. Still keeping your relationship a secret you continued your affairs, but it only had gotten worse, the Sparrows using their holy influence to capture Margery, Tommen, nothing but a mere child in the mind did nothing, and his Mother Cersei was also taken, her plan backfiring. You only wished that was the end of the nightmare.

Cersei executes a plan that lead to the explosion of the Sept, killing Margery, her brother, The High Sparrow and so many more. Your cousins, Grandfather, Father, and now your Love, all gone. All of that set in motion your path to the crown, forming the Golden Roar rebellion you overthrew Cersei and took the Iron Throne as your own, it didn’t take much of course, using your connection to the people you exposed her true nature, and her actions. The people rebelled, you rebelled, it was perfect. With all obstacles moved, you now have the power to change everything, to change the world, but one obstacle stood left; The Last Targaryen.

Sitting upon your iron throne, and Gregor at your side, you listened to the concerns of not only nobles but of the people. They were small at best, tedious. It wasn’t until your kings guard, your Uncle Jamie knelt down to slightly whisper.

“There is something I must speak to you about when time is available.”

“Is it important?” You asked calmly, your eyes darting to him. Jamie nodded, it was rare your uncle often spoke during your court. You ended the proceeding for now and walked to the high chambers with your uncle.

“It’s about—“ Jamie began but you had an idea of what he was going to ask.

“As I have said before uncle, I shall not Kill Aunt Cersei, as much as she deserves it.. I made that promise to you, I intend to keep it. She will be locked away. And when I have complete control, you can live out your days with her in Casterly Rock.” You said, while your blood boiled at the idea of Cersei living, for your uncle who treated you as equal, you honored your promise.

“No, House Tarly might consider to support the Targaryen.” He began, you knew about Her, but you didn’t care at the time. You picked up your pace, trying to focus and Jamie kept up.

“Really now?” You asked intrigued.

“They’re the only house that has not claimed loyalty, and if we lose their house—“

“We might have a problem.” You finish the statement for him. “We had the Tyrell’s but Cersei made sure of that.. although.” You slowly had an idea coming together, Jamie halted in his footsteps as a smirk crept on your face.

“We won’t need the Tyrells… if the False Queen truly wishes to take the throne. Then I should at least hear the woman out..” You said, admittedly you wished to see this last living Targaryen. Stepping into your bedchamber you overlooked Kings Landing, the debt slowly being pushed down, people attempting to rebuild after the sept, all your doing. And if this Targaryen Pureblooded Freak wished to take this from you, then she must kill you in order to take it. Your mind wandered until you stepped out to the balcony, enjoying the warm air, smells of earth and rock, but something else caught your attention.. something was moving across the horizon of the ocean.

Standing on the massive port gate of Kings Landing, You, Ser Jamie, Maester Quburn stood at the port, watching ships slowly enter, but they were not yours. They belonged to the Greyjoys. Standing with soldiers surrounding and arrows ready to massacre the platoons, you wait. They dock and descend out, and your eyes laid upon Euron Greyjoy, the sadistic cold bastard of what’s left of the Greyjoys, that shit eating grin was unsettling, as if he had some master plan for you. He gave a fake bow and kept his sly eye on you.

“My King.” He said, having your hands behind your back you calmly raised your hand, and placed your fingers down, allowing the archers to put their bows down.

“You must be, Euron.” You said, what could a Greyjoy Possibly want here?”

“It’s a simple request, although I expected the queen to be greeting me.” He replies, look around slowly, as if to expect Cersei.

“Unfortunately she’s been.. replaced. Allow me to welcome you and your men to kings Landing, Respect our Laws and you shall be respected in kind.” You offer him to walk with you, and he does.

“Your business here must be important if you wished to speak with me.” You look around, noting that there are still arrows trained on Euron, for your safety after all.

“Yes, what I ask requires some.. finesse. Finesse only the true king of Westeros would have.” Euron plays it up, but you knew better and cut though his words.

“What would you wish?” You reply, entering the throne room you said. “How would.. command over the waters of All Westeros sound?” He said, you halted, and slowly went up the stairs, ascending to a higher position than him. You sit down upon the throne, gently placing your hands together.

“I have the power to give this, but why would I give it to you, a Greyjoy in fact.. I gain, nothing.” You explain, and Euron snaps his fingers laughing.

“You see that is where you are wrong, my king. My loyalty, I will swear to you, and the entire Greyjoy fleet will be yours to command at your demand, all I ask is reign over the waters.”

“That is an imposing proposal.. but how do I know you will keep your word?” You reply, and Euron grins. “I have a.. gift.”

Minutes pass as you sit in your Throne, Jamie by your side waiting. Hoping this “Gift” will be of some worth. And it was, the doors open to Euron and his men, having three women captured and tied like cattle to follow. You looked at them, while two were from Dorne, the other wasn’t. Jamie gripped his saber hilt with his good hand. You noticed the shift in his emotion, and tilted your head.

“I believe these women are from Dorne.. why do you have them?” You asked, you vaguely recognize one as Oberon’s lover.

“This is Ellaria and Tyene Sand.. your Cousins Killers.” Euron smiles, presenting a good gift, your eyes slowly filled with malice and hate, a feeling you’ve only ever truly felt a few times in life. The feeling came back with a vengeance and you calmly but somehow with boiling fury stood up and walked down the stairs, you calmly approached Ellaria her eyes were wary off course, you were a Lannister unknown, meaning you were unpredictable.

“Ellaria sand… for your daughter’s Sake, tell the truth.. did you kill my cousin Marcella?” You whispered so coldly and raspy into her ear, like a growling lion before he pounces and tears apart zebras flesh. You watched her quiver, heavy breathing, and in the last moments of reality she nodded, confirming the truth. You took a step back and bit your lip to keep from showing tears. “The Cell.. all of them.” You gave the shallow order and the guards took them away. You could care less about the last one and allowed her to be taken away as well. Sitting back on your throne you looked to Euron, and gave the nod.

“The seas.. are yours.”

It had been a Week since Eurons reign, and all was calm, until you had an unexpected visitor, standing at the gates of Kings Landing with your men and council, you watched as an army of Unsullied and Dothraki approach, you couldn’t make out anyone you knew and prepared to rain Wildfire on them, but someone’s presence was well known, you heard the intense roar and the echo of massive wings in the sky, you saw the dragon, the most powerful beings in Westeros, they land on the ground. And its blood red eyes looked at you, admittedly a wave of fear hit you.

“Quburn.. are the Dragon Slayers reader?” You asked.

“Ready to launch, my King.” He replies, you sigh with relief and then watched a tiny figure step from the army.

“..Father?” You said, almost speechless. Tyrion approached, looking older, more stern. You signaled to let him in.

Sitting across from each other inside a Tent. You didn’t have much to say to him, even after all these years.

“You.. did it.” Tyrion said, seeing his son as king was, an unreal feeling. “You achieved greatness, as I always expected. Besides you’re half of me, so you should have.”

“Amusing father.. but, are you truly with this woman?”

“She.. has a vision for Westeros I simply cannot allow to go to the wayside, besides this place needs someone willing to show mercy instead of the blade.” Tyrion responds, you could somewhat understand his predicament.

“I suppose, but I won’t allow my throne to be taken by some Targaryen child. I will lead Westeros to peace, and she can go back to ruling whatever sand hill she wishes, as long as it isn’t on my soil.”

“That.. may not be your soil for much longer.” Tyrion quips, your eyes glare at him as he sips his wine.

“Not by us, the Winter.. the cold.. the undead. They’re real, and it seems their plan is to go from the wall and destroy along. Westeros, it would not be long before they raid Kings Landing..”

You consider your father’s words carefully, if this is true. Then the Queen of Dragons isn’t your main focus. “Is there a way to stop them?” You ask.

“Dragons glass and fire, that seems to be our only two, unfortunately the Queen lost one to the White Walkers. If we’re to survive and surpass this darkness, you and the Queen must come to an understanding and work together.”

“I.. see..” You rubbed your chin, truly considering all of this. “And where is the Queen?”

“Winterfell.”

“I can spare twenty thousand Men, leave a few here to run while I go.” You said, standing up you look out to the army still awaiting.

“May your return back to your Queen be swift father.. but know that when this is done, you must choose a side.” You left your father with those parting words, and Made way for The North.

Entering Winterfell felt like a death sentence, you felt eyes all over you, knowing at any moment you could be swarmed and killed, thankfully your army surrounded the rest of Winterfell, so a siege would immediately commence if you were killed. Standing in the Great Hall, you were gazed upon by Many house, and sitting at the center of the table was none other that the Queen, Denreyes Targaryen. You have a bow of courtesy.

“Your Grace, my father informed me of the.. issue we’re facing, this night king, these.. white walkers. They’re a plague slowly burrowing into the heart of Westeros, and it would take us all to stop them, so I fully intend to lend aid.” You said, it was silent besides a few Murmurs, some surprised you came here, others surprised you’re actually helping, Lannisters are usually selfish.

“Your help will be paramount to stopping this invasion. And I suppose the terms of your surrender was spoke about as well?”

“Apologies but I have no intent to surrender..” you reply, and smile. “A beautiful and intelligent woman such as yourself should know I am not here to surrender but to lend aid. We can discuss the throne when we know there will be a throne left.”

It was silence in the room now, and before Dany could say something she bit her tongue to keep it. “Understandable.. we shall discuss this when ample time is available. Please, enjoy Winterfell for the time being.” Her words sounded kind, but obviously it had a hint of malice behind it, knowing better you didn’t call her out, and simply went to your bedchambers. Walking along the frozen planks of Winterfell you felt unease, as if someone was watching you. You hit a corner and kept up the pace, knowing someone was there. As you turned the corner you prepared to face your chaser, you stepped out to attack but, no one was there. Something was wrong, but unfortunately it was too late.

You felt the cold steel against your neck and the abrupt grip of a hand around your wrist. Death was mere moments away, but it didn’t come, a voice came from behind you.

“Still too slow for your own good.” It said, it may have been years since you’ve seen her, but you recognized that voice from anywhere.

Arya.

“Always too slow for you.” You replied in jest and the cold steel was removed, you sigh and turn around to see her, she’s taller now and, you couldn’t help but notice that she’s a full fledged woman now. You met Arya when her Sister and Father were taken to Kings Landing, she had this tomboyish attitude that made you adore her, always being so friendly and practicing her fighting skills even as a girl, and now you both had grown up.

“You look..” you started, your eyes going up and down and back into her eyes.

“Scary?” She responds

“Amazing.” You said, she had a sly grin and gave you a playful poke with her finger. “And you look like a real king now.”

“I try.” You respond, “Arya.. about Kings Landing—“ you start but she stops you.

“You saved me when you made me leave when my father was killed, if not I’d end up like Sansa, your family isn’t you.” She said to you, so earnest and kind. That weight was taken off your shoulder. You nodded and Arya walks past you.

“I’ll see you soon. I’m sure you, have a lot deal with.” With those words Arya parted. You watched her leave, and the curves she developed would make a man’s steel resolve melt. You shook your head and pressed forward, entering the room you took a step in, and closed the door behind you, unfortunately you weren’t the only one in the room, Daenerys. She sat in your chair, as if she was awaiting your arrival.

“That did not take you long.” You said, ready to debate.

“Your presence has made it an issue with the northerners, not only do they question my rule as Queen of the North because of Jon, but so does yours.” She clenched her jaw slightly and you chuckled. You calmly removed your cape. You noticed the bottle of wine on the counter and didn’t hesitate to take it.

“Stop clenching your jaw. It’s bad for your teeth darling, you’re too pretty to lose your teeth now.” You calmly placed your cape on the table and approached to sit across from her.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Your Grace flattered has gotten me into a lot of things, thankfully one is the throne.” You gently combed back your hair, looking into her eyes, She was ferocious like a dragons, but also a merciful side. They were.. beautiful.

“Well I hope your flattery will work against the Night King and his horde of undead.” She obviously has a chip on her shoulder to say the least, a chip you intend to knock off.

“I doubt, he doesn’t seem the type to be swept off his cold decrepit feet.” You tapped the table, just to annoy her. “I say a good dagger to the heart does the same thing, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I suppose it does. I am.. surprise you came.” She admits, you raised an eyebrow.

“You think of me as a liar?” You asked, She didn’t want to say yes but obviously you had your answer, your smirk fades and you calmly sit up, you popped the cork off the bottle and took a swig of it.

“I am nothing, if not a man of my word, and I came here to fight them myself as well. I said I would, so I would. And so you would know I truly mean it when I said.. I would Marry you and Make you Queen Denyeres Targaryen, you wouldn’t have to take my last name.” You meant every word, you offered the bottle of wine to Deny, she stared at it for a moment and took it for a drink of it. A warm smile was already on your face, hours of talking and drinking left you two actually getting along.

“You have no idea, it’s fucking cold, I hate it here, everyone cannot understand why I deserve the throne because I dont have a cock between my legs.” Deny rants on, and you slip up and said, “You could use mine.” You blurted out, jokingly but, she didn’t see it as a joke. She tilts her head a way that make you shutter a bit. You saw a sly smirk creep along her face.

“Is that a true request?” She asked you. You blinked a few times and decided why not and took the risk. “Sure, I don’t see why not. Just put it between your thighs.” You shrugged and watched Dany stand up, slowly unblocking her lower garments. You watched her smooth legs for show and an eyes trail upwards to what’s between her legs. A soft slightly trimmed bush, the blood stopped rushing to your head and to your dick. Kings Landing didn’t Lack whores and women, but something about Dany felt fresh, and desire burned. She giggled, seeing your thousand yard gaze at her privates. She knelt down, her soft legs stroking your thighs, and looking into your eyes. “Am I.. going to have to take them off myself?” She said, and you shook you head, gripping your trousers and pushed them down, and Dany got an eyeful of the Lions Tail.

“It’s… wow.” Dany was taken aback, but didn’t hesitate, she turned around, and plopped right on your lap, her bare ass brushing against your legs, she gently opens her legs and watched your dick fly up and softly slapped her couch. A dumbfounded giggle comes from her and she closes her legs. “So.. this is what it feels like.”

“It feels, amazing.” You leaned your head back, her soft thighs brushing and warmly gripping your dick. And softly moving around. It was mostly a Slightly Drunk Dany moving her legs around to play with her “Kings Cock.” Once it brushed against her crotch and a sensation catches her off guard. It felt good, and she wanted more. Dany placed her hands on the chair’s armrest to balance herself as she motions around, her breathing getting deeper and softer, the sensation you were feeling was something beyond imagination. Your hands gripped her waist to assist her.

“This is.. better than… i expected..” panting, Dany leaned her head back, and your hands slipped up her shirt, you slid your hands up, feeling her soft supple breasts underneath her. You leaned in, planting soft but deep kisses along her neck and it drove the Dragon Queen, a soft pinch of her nipple, a deep kiss on her neck. Her moaning filled the room, and you decided to give the dragon Queen what she deserved. Adjusting your cock you pressed against her pussy.

“Now, slide~” you held her body so warmly.

“Y-Yes~” she whines in your ear.

“Yes.. What?~” you replied.

“Yes.. my King~” she gasped, and with his Queens request you gently lowered her down on it, you felt your dick immediately get swallowed by warmth and wetness. Her gasp and deep moan signaled that she’s ready, you wrapped your arm around her waist and held onto the arm of the chair thrusting upward, you were stronger than her, making it easy to handle her body around with each punch and thrust, she bit her bottom lip to keep from yelling in pleasure.

“D-Dany.. you feel so.. fucking good! You squeezed tighter around her, the hot and sweat bending off your bodies hit the hard wood floor, which creaked slightly as you rammed your dick inside her.

“Damn you… for being so good!~” Dany let out a heavy groan. You felt the clenching of her walls on your cock, trying to drain it. You let her have it, bucking like a horse, making Dany bounce. “Fuck!” You held her waist, letting your seed erupt from the tip and into the air tight hold her pussy had on your cock. You watched her body stiffen up and her legs quiver as she has an actual orgasm. Panting, Dany leans back against you, panting, didn’t know what to say.

“Was that.. your first Orgasm?” You asked

“My.. First what?” She asked, still a bit confused of what she just felt, you laughed, softly putting your arms around her as she rested.

“.. So, you must love me now.” You say jokingly, “To have sex with me when you’ve barely known me for a day.”

Dany realized how it looked, and scoffed.

“I don’t.. I don’t love you, I.. Tolerate you.” She replied.

“Oh, well when we marry.. you can tolerate me like this for years.” You joke and snuggle up with her, Dany didn’t have the energy to argue with you, feeling your hot sweet pour down her leg. She thought to herself that yes.

She can tolerate you.

#male reader #game of throne x male reader #daenerys targeryan x male reader #daenerys targeryan #queen daenerys #smut #game of thrones smut #Ornii #game of thrones daenerys #lemon

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randomfanboi · 6 months ago

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Me seeing there's no Throne of Glass Male reader content

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struckd0wn · 1 year ago

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𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟕: 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠- 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧

Odessa had noticed you from across the room, watching you anxiously interact with the other party gowers. Dez held parties in Junk City often, usually in her throne room. Tables filled with foods you weren't used to, people clad in their heavy gear made from metal scraps.

The Queen had noticed you definitely didn't belong here in Junk city, she was curious about you, and most certainly attracted to you. Her eyes followed your figure around the throne room, watching you hesitate to taste the obscure food set out for guest, desperately looking for the friend that had dragged you there.

You were much smaller than she was, a lot smaller than a lot of the people of Junk city seeing as a lot of them were very tall and large. Your face was sweet and innocent compared to the faces marked with scars and bruises, you wore proper clothes instead of some bits of fabric barley being held together. You were so different from the people of her home, a refreshing gaze outside of her little world here in the city.

Your friend had dragged you here so she could meet her lil hook up, leaving you alone at this party. The food looked... questionable and the people even more so but you weren't going to judge. There was this woman, she sat at the front of the room in this big chair made from scrap. You could feel her watching you, her eyes following you around the room. You were scared you might he intruding, that she wanted you out of her party seeing as you were an outsider.

So when she started approaching you got nervous. You tried to just get out while you could, before she could confront you. You turned away from the room, finding you way out to the hallway, looking for some sort of exit. As you went to turn a corner you were stopped, pulled back against the hallway wall. The woman from before had caught you, trapping you from your escape.

"Where do you think you're goin?" She quizzed, her voice rumbled through your chest as she held you against her.

You had to strain your neck to look up at her. Her gaze was intense, looking you up and down with a sly smirk. "I'm sorry,I didn't mean to intrude. I was just looking for a friend." You tell her, swallowing down the lump in your throat.

"Oh no no no, you aren't intruding at all," She reassures you, one of her arms caging you against the wall. "Not from here, are you?" Odessa asks. You shake your head and she just laughs. "I could tell, we don't get much cuties 'round here." She tells you, taking your chin in her free hand, guiding you to look at her.

Your face blooms in red, struggling to keep eye contact. The woman wasn't trying to scare you off, she was making advances twords you. "Come with me darling we'll have some fun."

The party had long been over but you and the Queen stayed behind. She sat on her throne, holding you tightly on her lap as you struggled to stay put. Odessa's long fingers plunged into you with ease. Your moans echoed throughout the ballroom, her voice egging you own. "Cmon now, I've gotcha." Her voice soothed you but didn't cure the aching feeling in the pit of your stomach. "Look at the mess you're makin',do my fingers really feel that good?" Dez lowers her voice, nipping at your earlobe.

You look down to see the puddle you have made, her fingers and forearm covered in your slick, twisting and bending in and out of you. She pulls her fingers away from you, forming a fist and bringing it twords your swollen clit. She uses the opening between her thumb and index to jerk you off with her closed fit. Odessa tightens her girp around you, your hips twitch and squirm from the touch.

"Cum all over my throne, baby. Everytime I sit up here I'll be reminded of you." She would whisper in your ear. Your body goes stiff and as you climax you let go, going limp in the queen's arms.

#smut #ftm reader #junker queen x reader #trans reader #transmasc reader #drabbles #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #sub male reader

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dreamersworldduh · 19 days ago

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RISKY DECISIONS

• Oliver Queen x Male!Reader

SUMMARY — being an assistant is supposed to be an hell of a job, at least that was how the movies make it seems. Yet somehow it’s the complete opposite for you when you become an assistant to Mayor Oliver Queen.

WARNING! 18+ MDNI. Suggestive Langauge. Swearing.

WORDS! 9.3k

AUTHOR’S NOTE! Hi! Sorry for the delay, I couldn’t choice which fic I wanted to do between Oliver Queen and Nate Jacobs, plus I have my first request that I’m writing, so I did to them all. Enjoy! 😚

You never imagined that living in a place like Star City would lead you to be sitting across from its enigmatic and undeniably handsome mayor, Oliver Queen, on a date of all things. Life has a funny way of throwing curveballs when you least expect them, and this was certainly one of those moments. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you'd go from an ordinary citizen in a bustling city to sharing an intimate evening with one of its most powerful and mysterious figures. But, as they say, fate works in mysterious ways.

It all began on what you thought was just another ordinary day, one where you were desperately scouring job listings and hoping to find something, anything, that could help pay the bills. As an art major fresh out of college, you'd always envisioned a life filled with creative pursuits—painting, galleries, exhibitions, and maybe even a small studio of your own someday. However, reality had other plans. The bills didn't stop, and your bank account certainly wasn't growing any larger. That's when the job posting for an assistant position in the mayor's office caught your eye.

It wasn't exactly a dream job, but it was stable, well-paying, and honestly, you couldn't afford to be picky. So, you applied, never thinking you'd actually hear back. To your surprise, you received a call within days. A whirlwind of an interview followed—though, admittedly, the moment you saw Oliver Queen walk into the room, you barely remembered what you said. His presence was larger than life: sharp blue eyes that seemed to see right through you, a confident smile that somehow managed to be both charming and intimidating, and the kind of charisma that could make anyone feel like they were the only person in the room. By some miracle (or perhaps your desperation showed just enough to make you seem dedicated), you landed the job.

At first, the position was everything you anticipated—and maybe a little less glamorous than you'd hoped. Your days were filled with the predictable rhythm of office life: fetching endless cups of coffee, juggling the mayor's ever-changing schedule, filing documents that seemed to multiply overnight, and acting as a buffer between your boss and the chaotic world of Star City politics. The office buzzed with constant activity, from council meetings to press conferences, all of it demanding your attention. You often found yourself staying late to meet impossible deadlines or untangling last-minute crises that seemed to pop up without fail. It wasn't the creative dream you'd envisioned, but it was stable work that kept your head above water. For that alone, you were grateful.

Still, the job came with its challenges. You quickly learned that Star City's political landscape was as turbulent as its streets. Factions bickered over funding and policies while the media scrutinized every move the mayor's office made. More than once, you found yourself running interference during heated debates or smoothing over tense situations with quick thinking and a calm demeanor. The work was demanding, but it left little room for boredom.

What you didn't expect, however, was how involved Mayor Queen was with his staff—or, to your growing surprise, how often he interacted with you personally. You'd heard the rumors before you took the job: that he was aloof, enigmatic, and often kept to himself. His reputation painted a picture of a man who carried his secrets like armor, a leader whose complicated past made him both a hero and a mystery to Star City's citizens. But the man you came to know was so much more than the headlines suggested.

Oliver had a presence that was hard to ignore. Whether he was striding into the office with his signature confidence or leaning over a conference table to make a point, his sheer charisma filled the room. What struck you most, however, was the surprising warmth behind the stern exterior. He wasn't just the brooding figure the tabloids made him out to be. He had a sharp wit and an easy, disarming sense of humor that could catch you off guard. He took the time to remember the little things—your favorite coffee order, your comments about your artwork, and even the days you looked particularly tired after long hours.

At first, your interactions were brief, professional exchanges—a quick thank-you for a report or a casual nod as he passed your desk. But those fleeting moments gradually grew into something more. Conversations in passing turned into longer discussions during late-night work sessions, where the two of you often found yourselves the last ones in the office. He'd linger, asking questions about your background, your aspirations, and what had brought you to Star City. You found yourself opening up in ways you hadn't expected, drawn in by his genuine interest and the way he seemed to truly listen when you spoke.

And then there were the glimpses of vulnerability, the cracks in his armor that revealed the man beneath the title. You could see the weight he carried—the burdens of his position, the responsibility he felt for the city, and perhaps even the ghosts of his past. There were moments when his smile faltered, when his gaze lingered on something unseen, and you realized just how much he gave of himself to lead Star City. It made him more human, more real, and in turn, it made your admiration for him grow.

Before long, you began to notice the subtle shifts in your dynamic. The way his gaze would linger just a moment too long when you spoke. The warmth in his voice when he addressed you by name. The private smiles he seemed to reserve just for you. It was as though he saw something in you that no one else did, and the realization sent a flutter through your chest every time. What had started as an unassuming assistant job was slowly transforming into something far more significant—something you never could have anticipated.

It wasn't long before the dynamic between you and Oliver began to shift in ways you couldn't quite define but couldn't ignore either. At first, it was subtle, so subtle that you wondered if you were reading too much into it. A fleeting glance, a brush of fingers when he handed you a file, the way his voice softened slightly when he said your name—these small, delicate moments began to stand out amidst the chaos of your daily responsibilities. It was easy to dismiss them at first as coincidence, or perhaps just a byproduct of your overactive imagination. After all, this was Oliver Queen, the mayor of Star City—your boss.

But the signs kept coming, and they became harder to rationalize. Like the way his gaze would linger on you during meetings, just a beat longer than it did with anyone else. Or the way his entire demeanor seemed to change when you spoke about your artistic ambitions, a rare spark of curiosity lighting his usually serious eyes. He'd ask questions—not the polite, cursory ones people ask out of obligation, but genuine inquiries that made you feel like he actually cared about what you had to say. And then there were the smiles, small and fleeting but entirely private, as though they were meant for you and no one else.

One moment in particular stuck with you. You'd been working late on a policy briefing, your desk cluttered with papers and a cold cup of coffee. Oliver had come by to check on your progress, leaning casually against the edge of your desk as he skimmed through a draft you'd prepared. When he handed it back, his hand lingered just a moment longer than necessary, his fingers brushing against yours. It was barely noticeable, but it sent a jolt through you nonetheless. He'd given you one of those rare smiles then—soft, almost shy—and for a moment, the bustling office around you seemed to fade away.

Still, you told yourself not to read into it. He was your boss, after all, and the last thing you wanted was to create some awkward misunderstanding that could jeopardize the job you'd worked so hard to secure. But the moments kept adding up, like puzzle pieces that refused to fit into the neat, professional boundaries you'd tried to maintain.

And then, one evening, Oliver made it clear that you weren't imagining things. It had been an exhausting day, the kind where the tension in the office was almost palpable. A city council crisis had thrown everyone into overdrive, and by the time the dust had settled, the office was nearly empty, save for you and a few other stragglers finishing up loose ends. You were at your desk, methodically packing up for the night, when you heard his familiar voice behind you.

"Long day," he said, his tone warm but edged with fatigue. You turned to find him standing a few feet away, his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up—a rare, unguarded version of the polished mayor the public usually saw. He looked tired, but his gaze was steady, focused entirely on you.

"It's an understatement," you replied with a tired smile, reaching for your bag. You expected him to make a quick comment and head out, as he usually did after late nights like this. But instead, he lingered, his hands resting in his pockets as though he were trying to decide something.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," he said finally, his voice low but firm. There was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, a vulnerability you'd never seen before. You straightened, suddenly very aware of the shift in the air between you.

"Of course," you said, trying to keep your tone casual even as your heart began to race.

He took a small step closer, the distance between you shrinking. "I've really enjoyed getting to know you," he began, his words deliberate, as though he'd been rehearsing them. "And I'd like to spend more time with you—outside of work."

The room seemed to grow quieter, the hum of the office fading into the background. His words hung in the air, carrying a weight that made your pulse quicken. There was no mistaking his meaning now, no room for misinterpretation. This wasn't a casual invitation to discuss a project over coffee or grab a quick lunch. This was personal, intimate—a step into uncharted territory.

"Are you... asking me out?" you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

His lips curved into a soft, almost sheepish smile, the kind you rarely saw from him. "Yes," he said simply. "If you're interested."

For a moment, all you could do was stare, your mind racing as you processed the enormity of what was happening. The mayor of Star City, the man who had once seemed so untouchable, was standing in front of you, vulnerable and waiting for your answer.

You agreed, of course—how could you not? But even as you said yes, a thousand thoughts raced through your mind. How had this even happened? How had a job you took out of sheer necessity led to this? As you sat across from Oliver now, his attention focused entirely on you, you couldn't help but marvel at the twists and turns life had taken to bring you to this exact moment.

As the evening unfolded, the boundaries between professional and personal seemed to blur, dissolving into something warm, candid, and deeply human. The weight of Oliver's office—of city budgets, policies, and public appearances—felt like a distant memory. For the first time, the man across from you wasn't Star City's mayor, nor a public figure surrounded by layers of protocol and mystery. He was just Oliver, and his curiosity about your life was genuine in a way that caught you completely off guard.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table as he spoke, his piercing blue eyes never straying from yours. "What made you choose art?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with a genuine interest that made your heart skip.

At first, you hesitated. It wasn't often someone asked about your passions with such sincerity, and you weren't sure how much to share. But there was something in the way he waited—patient, attentive, and utterly engaged—that made you feel safe enough to open up. You spoke about how art had always been your refuge, a way to process the chaos of life and transform it into something meaningful. You told him about the quiet joy of sketching in a sunlit room as a child, the long hours spent perfecting your craft, and how your dream of making a living from your passion had always seemed just out of reach.

Oliver nodded thoughtfully as you spoke, his expression shifting between admiration and understanding. He asked questions that went deeper than surface-level curiosity: What inspired you? What challenges had you faced? What did you hope to achieve? It wasn't just polite conversation; it was as though he wanted to piece together every fragment of what made you who you were. His attention made you feel seen in a way that few ever had, and the ease with which the words flowed from you surprised even yourself.

Then it was his turn. Slowly, carefully, he began to share pieces of himself—pieces you'd only glimpsed through the carefully curated image of Oliver Queen the public knew. He spoke of his years away from Star City, the pain of losing people he loved, and the weight of the mistakes that had shaped him. His voice carried a quiet intensity as he described the sense of purpose he had found upon returning home, the drive to rebuild a city he felt responsible for.

"I never thought I'd end up here," he admitted, leaning back slightly, his gaze momentarily distant. "Running a city, leading people—it wasn't part of the plan. There were times I didn't even think I'd make it through the day, let alone find a reason to keep going. But Star City... this place, these people, they gave me that reason."

His honesty was raw, vulnerable, and it struck a chord deep within you. It was one thing to admire him as a leader, a symbol of resilience for the city, but hearing the weight of his struggles made him feel more real, more human. He wasn't just the polished figure on campaign posters or the commanding presence in a boardroom—he was someone who had fought to piece himself back together, someone who had chosen to carry the burdens of an entire city on his shoulders.

Of course, it wasn't all heavy confessions and heartfelt exchanges. This was Oliver Queen, after all—a man whose charm was practically legendary, a weapon he wielded with precision even now. Throughout the night, moments of levity broke through, lighthearted and flirtatious in a way that left you both blushing and grinning.

"You have this way of pulling people in," he said at one point, his lips curving into a sly smile. "It's not just your art—it's the way you see the world. It's captivating."

You laughed, trying to brush off the compliment even as your cheeks warmed. "That's rich coming from you," you teased. "I'm sure you've had plenty of practice captivating people."

He chuckled, a low, warm sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Maybe," he admitted, his gaze locking with yours, "but that doesn't make this any less real."

The weight of his words hit you like a jolt. It was playful, yes, but there was an unmistakable sincerity beneath the flirtation. He wasn't just flattering you; he meant every word, and the realization left you momentarily speechless.

And then there were his eyes. You'd always thought they were striking, but tonight, they were utterly mesmerizing. In the intimate glow of the room, they seemed to hold a depth and warmth that drew you in completely. There was an intensity in the way he looked at you, as though you were the only person in the world, the only thing worth his attention. You found yourself hanging on his every word, not because he was Oliver Queen, the mayor, but because of the way he made you feel: seen, valued, and undeniably alive.

By the time the conversation began to wind down, you glanced at your watch in surprise. Hours had slipped by without you even noticing, the world outside fading into irrelevance. You weren't sure what the future held—what this connection would mean or where it might lead—but in that moment, you couldn't bring yourself to care. All that mattered was the man in front of you, the shared laughter and confessions, and the undeniable spark that had taken you both by surprise.

Your relationship with Oliver had evolved into something that neither of you could easily define, but it was becoming clear to both of you that the lines between personal and professional were growing increasingly blurred. You found yourselves spending more and more time together—not just outside of work but during long hours in the office as well. Though you both tried to maintain a semblance of professionalism in front of others, it was becoming harder to keep up appearances. Especially when Oliver seemed determined to test those boundaries every chance he got.

One afternoon, you were in his office, helping him sort through a mountain of paperwork that needed his signature or review. The large space, usually a hub of activity, was uncharacteristically quiet, with most of the staff out to lunch. You sat comfortably in one of the plush lounge chairs positioned across from his desk, your legs crossed as you sifted through a stack of documents. Oliver was seated behind the desk, but you couldn't help noticing that his attention wasn't exactly on the papers in front of him.

"Okay, so this one is for the new community center funding," you explained, glancing up at him briefly before returning to the next item in the pile. "And this one is for—Oliver, are you even listening?"

He didn't respond, not really. Instead, he leaned back slightly in his chair, his piercing blue eyes fixed on you in a way that made your stomach do a little flip. You furrowed your brow, confused, and a little exasperated by his lack of focus.

"Oliver?" you prompted again, your tone carrying a hint of warning. That's when he stood abruptly, pushing his chair back and rounding the desk with a purposeful stride.

"What are you doing?" you asked, your voice a mix of confusion and curiosity as you tilted your head to look up at him.

Still, he said nothing. Instead, he reached out, his hand brushing against yours before firmly taking it in his grasp. Your heart skipped a beat as he gently tugged you to your feet, leading you behind the desk. Before you could protest or even fully process what was happening, he dropped back into his chair, pulling you into his lap in one swift motion.

"Uh, no, sir," you said quickly, shaking your head even as your cheeks flushed with heat. "This is definitely not happening. Do I need to remind you that your sister, who also happens to be my boss, would kill me if she saw me sitting on the big boss' lap?"

Oliver threw his head back and laughed, the rich sound filling the room and sending a shiver down your spine. "Relax," he said, his voice low and teasing as his hands rested lightly on your hips. "Everyone's out to lunch. We have the whole office to ourselves."

As if to further his point, he leaned forward slightly, brushing his lips against the side of your neck in a way that made your resolve falter. You wanted to protest, to remind him of the risks, but his charm—and the warmth of his touch—was dangerously persuasive.

"Oliver..." you began, your tone meant to be scolding but coming out far weaker than you intended. He smirked against your skin, clearly enjoying how easily he was unraveling your composure.

"You worry too much," he murmured, his voice soft but laced with mischief. "You work hard, you're brilliant at what you do, and you deserve to take a little break every now and then."

His lips pressed another soft kiss to your neck, and you felt your resolve slipping further. You glanced toward the office door, half-expecting someone to barge in despite Oliver's assurances that you were alone. But no one came, and for the moment, it was just the two of you in the quiet, sunlit office.

"Fine," you relented, though your tone carried a mix of exasperation and amusement. "But if anyone walks in, you get to explain this."

His grin widened, and he leaned back in the chair, his arms wrapping around you in a way that felt protective and intimate all at once. "Deal," he said simply, his voice low and satisfied.

For a few stolen moments, the world outside the office seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your bubble of shared laughter, quiet teasing, and the unmistakable spark of something neither of you could quite put into words.

Suddenly, Oliver's lips claimed yours in a kiss that was anything but hesitant. It was heated, passionate, and filled with an intensity that stole the air from your lungs. His hands, firm and commanding, cupped your face as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your heart pound wildly. The world around you blurred and disappeared, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the electricity crackling between you.

Before you could fully comprehend what was happening, Oliver's hands slid down to your waist, guiding you with a confidence that left no room for second-guessing. With a slight shift, he maneuvered you to straddle his lap, his strength evident as he adjusted your position as though you weighed nothing at all. Your knees pressed into the soft leather of his chair as you braced yourself on his shoulders, your breaths coming in shallow, rapid bursts.

His hands found their way to your hips, gripping you firmly as though grounding you in the moment. But he didn't stop there. His fingers moved lower, kneading your curves with a mix of control and reverence, until they rested on the swell of your ass. His touch was possessive, his palms squeezing with a deliberate pressure that sent shivers racing down your spine.

Your body pressed closer against his, and that's when you felt it— his dick—hard, undeniable, and pressing against you with a need that matched the fire in his kiss. A quiet gasp escaped your lips as he tilted his hips slightly, guiding you against him with a motion that made the heat between you both nearly unbearable. His hands urged you to move, rolling your hips against his in a slow, deliberate rhythm that left no doubt about his desire for you.

The friction was electric, a spark that ignited something primal within you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, your lips parting to let him take the lead as his kiss grew deeper, more consuming. His tongue teased yours, each movement of his lips and hands drawing you further into the whirlwind of his passion.

"Oliver..." you murmured breathlessly against his lips, your voice barely audible. But he didn't stop. If anything, your quiet plea only seemed to fuel him further. His grip tightened, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to leave you tingling, and he pressed you down harder against him, making sure you felt every inch of him.

The sensation was overwhelming, his touch, his kiss, the way he looked at you with a gaze that burned with both desire and something deeper, something more tender. It wasn't just lust—it was connection, raw and unfiltered, as though the barriers between you both had finally shattered.

In that moment, there was no office, no mayoral responsibilities, no rules or consequences. There was only Oliver, his body against yours, his hands guiding you, and the all-consuming pull that neither of you could resist.

Your fingers moved almost instinctively, as though they had a mind of their own, reaching up to loosen Oliver's perfectly knotted tie. The soft silk slipped through your fingers, and with each tug, you felt a thrill rush through you at the sight of his reaction. Oliver's lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile, his eyes glinting with delight as he watched you work. There was something utterly magnetic about his gaze, the way it locked onto you with unrelenting focus, making you feel like you were the only person in his world at that moment.

"Taking charge, are we?" he teased, his voice low and rich with amusement, though the heat in his tone betrayed just how much he was enjoying this.

You didn't respond, not with words at least. Instead, you let the tie fall free, the fabric sliding between your fingers as you dropped it onto the desk behind him. The small act felt bolder than it should have, but the way his smile deepened, his sharp jawline relaxing just slightly, made your pulse quicken.

Your fingers hesitated for just a beat before moving to the top button of his crisp white shirt. As you slipped it free, your fingertips brushed lightly against the warm skin of his chest, and you felt him draw in a slow, deliberate breath. The air between you seemed to crackle, the quiet tension growing with every passing second. You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his, and the intensity in his gaze sent a shiver racing down your spine.

Encouraged by the way he was watching you, you continued. One button became two, then three, and with each flick of your fingers, more of his chest was revealed. The smooth, taut skin beneath his shirt was a distraction all its own, and the heat radiating from his body only seemed to amplify the electricity between you. His collar loosened, exposing just a hint of his collarbone, and you couldn't help but let your fingertips trail lightly against the edge of the fabric as you worked your way downward.

Oliver's hands moved to rest gently on your hips, his touch grounding you even as your heart raced. "You're full of surprises," he murmured, his voice quieter now, softer, but no less filled with that unmistakable heat. His smile had turned from playful to something deeper, something laced with admiration and desire.

As you undid the next button, the edges of his shirt began to fall open, revealing more of his toned chest, and you couldn't help but let your fingers linger for a moment, brushing against the smooth lines of his skin. His muscles tensed slightly under your touch, and his eyes darkened, the playful glint replaced by something far more intense.

You were acutely aware of the closeness between you, the way his breath mingled with yours as you leaned closer, your fingers still working on the remaining buttons. The quiet intimacy of the moment was intoxicating, each small movement drawing you both deeper into uncharted territory. With every undone button, every fleeting touch, the barriers between you seemed to fall away, leaving only the undeniable connection that neither of you could ignore.

Oliver's lips crashed against yours with renewed intensity, his kiss deep and commanding as he lifted you effortlessly by your legs. You barely had time to gasp before he was standing, his strong arms supporting you as if you weighed nothing, and placing you on the cool, polished surface of the desk. The sudden shift in position sent a rush of heat through you, but practicality took over for a brief moment as you broke the kiss to hurriedly push the paperwork to the side.

The sound of the papers scattering across the desk made him chuckle, his lips curling into a mischievous smile. "Really?" he teased, his voice low and filled with amusement.

"Shut up," you shot back playfully, grabbing his face and pulling him back into another kiss before he could say anything else. Your lips silenced his laughter, and his hands settled on your waist, pulling you closer to the edge of the desk. The kiss was fiery and relentless, leaving you breathless as your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan softly against your mouth.

Then Oliver broke the kiss, leaving you gasping for air as his lips trailed down your jawline and onto your neck. His hot breath sent shivers racing down your spine, and the scrape of his stubble against your skin made your heart race. His hands, steady and deliberate, found the buttons of your shirt, and you felt the subtle tug as he began to undo them one by one. There was no rush in his movements—each button was undone slowly, almost torturously, as though he wanted you to feel every second of the moment. His lips followed the path of his fingers, brushing against the newly exposed skin and leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

Your hands, seemingly acting of their own accord, moved to his waist. You fumbled slightly as you found his belt buckle, your fingers trembling with a mix of anticipation and urgency. The clink of the metal as you unfastened it filled the quiet space around you, and you wasted no time pulling the zipper of his tailored pants down.

The pants slipped down his hips, falling into a crumpled heap around his feet, revealing a pair of tight black briefs that left very little to the imagination. Your breath hitched as your eyes were immediately drawn to the prominent bulge straining against the fabric, impossible to ignore. The sheer size of him made your pulse quicken, and a faint blush rose to your cheeks as your gaze lingered. He was rock-hard, his dick was pressing against the material, begging to be freed from its confines. The sight alone was enough to make your thighs press together, a rush of heat pooling low in your abdomen.

Oliver caught the way you were staring, and his lips curled into a knowing smirk. "See something you like?" he asked, his voice dripping with amusement and desire as he continued working on the last few buttons of your shirt.

You didn't answer—words felt unnecessary. Instead, you reached out, your fingers grazing over the waistband of his briefs, your touch tentative yet deliberate. The sensation of his hard length beneath your fingertips made him exhale sharply, his movements pausing briefly as though savoring the contact. The tension between you was palpable, every touch, every glance fanning the flames of a fire that had been building for far too long.

With a deliberate tug, you slid Oliver's briefs down, revealing him in all his glory. His nine-inch dick sprang free, thick, hard, and pulsing with need. The sight of him, fully aroused, made your breath hitch, your eyes lingering for a moment as you took him in. You bit your lip, a mixture of nervous anticipation and sheer desire coursing through you, before glancing up to meet his eyes. The way he looked at you—raw, hungry, and utterly captivated—only fueled your confidence.

Without breaking eye contact, you placed a hand on his chest and gave him a gentle push, urging him back into his chair. He complied willingly, sinking into the plush leather, his gaze never leaving yours. His lips curled into a faint smirk, but there was a flicker of tension in his jaw as though the anticipation was almost too much for him.

You slowly sank to your knees in front of him, your hands trailing down his thighs as you positioned yourself between them. The power dynamic had shifted slightly now, the usually confident and composed Oliver watching you with uncharacteristic vulnerability. His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, his hands gripping the armrests of the chair as he waited for your next move.

Your hand reached out to wrap around the base of his shaft, your fingers barely managing to encircle his impressive girth. His skin was warm to the touch, the velvety smoothness contrasting with the hardness beneath. You gave him a tentative stroke, marveling at the way his body responded to you, the way his hips shifted slightly at your touch.

Leaning forward, you let your tongue dart out, flicking it lightly against the head of his dick. His sharp intake of breath was music to your ears, and the faint groan that followed sent a thrill rushing through you. Encouraged, you let your tongue trail along the length of him, your movements slow and deliberate as you tasted him for the first time. The salty, masculine flavor was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but savor every inch.

"God," Oliver murmured, his voice rough and strained. His hands twitched on the armrests, as though fighting the urge to grab you and take control. But he didn't—he let you set the pace, his trust in you evident in the way he surrendered to the moment.

With one last teasing lick, you parted your lips and took him into your mouth, inch by inch. The stretch was intense, but you relished the challenge, the way he filled you completely. You hollowed your cheeks, creating a tight seal as you began to move, your tongue swirling around him with each stroke.

Oliver's reaction was immediate. His head fell back against the chair, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips. "You're... amazing," he managed to say, his voice heavy with pleasure. His hands left the armrests, one of them tangling in your hair as though he needed something to anchor himself.

You glanced up at him as you worked, his jaw clenched and his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. The sight of him, undone and vulnerable, sent a wave of satisfaction coursing through you. You adjusted your angle, taking him deeper, and the way his grip tightened in your hair told you exactly how much he appreciated it.

The rhythm you set was slow at first, deliberate and teasing, but as his moans grew louder and his hips began to move in sync with you, you quickened your pace. The room was filled with the sounds of his pleasure, the quiet groans and gasps that made it clear you had him completely under your control. Every movement, every flick of your tongue, every pull of your lips was designed to drive him closer to the edge—and judging by the tension in his body, you were succeeding.

Suddenly, you pulled away, letting his length slip from your lips as you caught your breath. The moment lingered, both of you flushed and panting, the heat between you almost unbearable. Without a word, you rose to your feet, your movements deliberate, your eyes locked onto Oliver's. His gaze followed you intently, dark and filled with desire, as though he could hardly wait to see what you'd do next.

Your hands moved to your belt, the faint sound of the buckle clicking open breaking the tense silence in the room. Slowly, purposefully, you slid the leather strap free and let it drop to the floor. Oliver's lips parted slightly, his chest heaving as he watched you with rapt attention. You moved to your pants next, unbuttoning and unzipping them with agonizing slowness, letting them fall to pool at your feet. With one final motion, you slid your briefs down, freeing yourself completely.

Your length sprang free, hard and ready, the cool air sending a slight shiver down your spine. Oliver's eyes flickered down, his gaze darkening even further as he took you in. A low, appreciative growl escaped his lips, and you felt a rush of satisfaction at the way he looked at you, his hunger evident in every line of his body.

Without hesitation, you climbed back onto his lap, straddling him. Your thighs pressed against his hips as his strong hands immediately found their place on your waist, gripping you possessively. His fingers dug into your skin just enough to make you gasp, the pressure grounding you as you shifted into place.

Oliver let out a guttural groan as your length grazed against his, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through both of you. The heat and hardness of his arousal pressed against yours, the friction intoxicating as you rolled your hips slightly. The faint slickness between your bodies only heightened the sensation, and you couldn't help the quiet moan that escaped your lips as your movements grew more deliberate.

"Damn," Oliver muttered, his voice rough and low as he tilted his head back slightly, his grip on your waist tightening. His usual composure was gone, replaced by pure, unfiltered desire. "You're going to make me cum."

You smirked, leaning forward just enough for your breath to ghost against his ear. "That's the idea," you teased, your voice soft but dripping with mischief.

Oliver growled again, his hands sliding down to grip your hips firmly. With an ease that spoke to his strength, he lifted you slightly, aligning you above him. The heat of his length pressed against your hole, and you felt a pulse of anticipation ripple through you. He held you there for a moment, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

"You ready for this?" he asked, his voice rough but gentle, a stark contrast to the raw desire in his gaze. His hands steadied you, his touch a perfect mix of control and care.

You nodded, your lips parting as your breath hitched. "Always," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

With that, Oliver guided you down slowly, the pressure building as he pushed against you. The stretch was intense, but his firm, steady hands on your hips kept you grounded, helping you adjust inch by inch. The combination of his strength and gentleness left you breathless, and you couldn't help but marvel at the way he seemed to read your body so effortlessly.

As you sank lower, the feeling of him filling you completely sent a wave of pleasure through you, making you gasp and clutch at his shoulders for support. Oliver let out a deep, satisfied groan, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he finally buried himself within you. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, every nerve ending in your body alive with sensation as you both paused, letting the raw, intimate connection settle over you..

Oliver's lips claimed yours once more, a kiss that was deep and fervent, filled with passion that left you breathless. His hands remained firmly on your hips, his grip strong and steady, guiding your movements as you began to lift yourself slowly. The sensation of him inside you was intense, every inch of his length pressing against you in a way that made your entire body tremble.

You moved cautiously at first, rising up just enough for the stretch to ease before sinking back down, taking him in again. The friction was exquisite, a slow, deliberate rhythm that made your breath hitch with every motion. Oliver groaned against your lips, the low, guttural sound reverberating through you and spurring you on. His fingers dug into your hips, not enough to hurt but enough to ground you, to remind you of the control he still held even as he let you set the pace.

Breaking the kiss momentarily, you gasped for air, your hands braced against his shoulders for balance. His gaze met yours, piercing and filled with a hunger that sent a shiver racing down your spine. He leaned forward, capturing your lips again, his tongue teasing yours as your movements grew more confident, more fluid. Each rise and fall of your body sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, the connection between you both deepening with every thrust.

Oliver's head fell back against the chair, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as a groan escaped him. "You feel... so damn good," he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure. The praise only fueled you, making you move faster, your hips rolling as you adjusted to the rhythm that had both of you teetering on the edge.

You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tensed beneath your hands as you rode him, the heat radiating from his skin. His hands slid from your hips to your lower back, pulling you closer against him as if he couldn't bear to have even the slightest bit of space between you. His lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there, his hot breath sending jolts of electricity through your body.

"Oliver..." you gasped, the sound of his name escaping your lips in a breathless moan. He responded with another low growl, his hands gripping you tighter as he began to meet your movements, thrusting up to match your rhythm. The chair creaked beneath you both, the quiet sound lost in the symphony of your ragged breaths and the unmistakable sounds of your bodies moving together.

Each motion brought a fresh wave of heat, the pressure building with every rise and fall. The connection between you was raw and consuming, the kind of intensity that blurred the world around you until there was nothing left but him—his touch, his kiss, and the overwhelming sensation of him filling you completely.

Oliver's lips found yours again, his kiss searing and desperate, as if he needed to feel every part of you, to lose himself completely in the moment. And you let him, your movements growing bolder, faster, as you gave yourself over to the intoxicating rhythm of pleasure and passion that bound you both together.

You never imagined yourself in a situation like this—having sex in an office, no less the mayor's office—and with the mayor himself. The fact that Oliver Queen, your unofficial boyfriend, was the one making you unravel so completely felt like something out of a fever dream. But here you were, straddling him in his plush leather chair, your bodies moving together in a rhythm that sent shivers down your spine. The taboo nature of it all—the high-powered setting, the risk of someone walking in—only seemed to heighten the intensity, making every sensation feel sharper, more electrifying.

The thought of the unlocked door barely crossed your mind. If it had, you didn't care enough to stop. The pleasure coursing through you was too overwhelming, too consuming, to let the fear of being caught disrupt the moment. Oliver's hands gripped your hips possessively, guiding you as you moved, his strength grounding you even as your world felt like it was spinning out of control.

His head tilted back slightly, exposing the sharp angle of his jaw as he groaned deeply, the sound echoing through the otherwise empty office. His usually composed and polished demeanor had completely unraveled, leaving behind only the raw, passionate man beneath. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, filled with a hunger that made your breath hitch. The way he looked at you—as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered—sent a rush of heat through your body.

"You're doing so good," he murmured, his voice rough and low, each word dripping with sincerity and desire. His praise sent a jolt of pleasure through you, spurring you to move faster, to take him deeper, to draw even more sounds of pleasure from his lips.

The documents behind you probably held the future of Star City in their inked words, but they were the farthest thing from your mind. All you could focus on was the way Oliver's hands explored your body, the way his lips occasionally captured yours in a searing kiss, the way his dick filled you completely with every movement.

The faint hum of city noise from the windows seemed a distant backdrop to the symphony of your shared breaths, quiet moans, and the creak of the chair beneath you. The unlocked door stood as a silent reminder of just how risky this was, but it only added to the thrill. Anyone could walk in—his other assistant, a council member, even Thea—and yet neither of you could bring yourselves to stop.

The sheer recklessness of the moment made it all the more exhilarating. The polished, professional space of the office felt almost surreal as a backdrop to something so intimate, so primal. This was the same place where press conferences were planned and city policies were crafted, and now it bore witness to a completely different kind of connection—a connection that was raw, electric, and undeniable.

You hadn't planned for this, hadn't expected to find yourself in a whirlwind romance with Star City's most powerful man. Yet, as you moved together, his hands gripping you tighter, his name falling from your lips in a breathless moan, you realized you wouldn't trade this moment for anything. Locked door or not, the passion between you was too powerful, too consuming, to be denied.

Suddenly, Oliver's eyes darkened with a new intensity, a spark of determination flickering across his face. Without a word, he tightened his grip on your hips, and in one fluid motion, he stood, his incredible strength evident as he lifted you effortlessly from his lap. The movement made you gasp, your body clinging to his as his dick stayed buried deep inside of you, the sensation making your head spin.

Before you could fully process what was happening, he turned and laid you down flat on the cool, polished surface of his desk. The contrast between the hard surface beneath you and the heat radiating from his body was electric, sending a shiver racing down your spine. Papers and folders scattered to the floor, forgotten in the haze of passion, as Oliver positioned himself over you, his hands firm and commanding as he held your legs in each of his hands.

He pushed your thighs apart, lifting your legs slightly to give himself the perfect angle. The possessiveness in his touch sent a thrill through you, making you feel utterly exposed yet completely safe at the same time. His grip was steady, his fingers pressing into your skin as he adjusted your position, and you couldn't help but marvel at the raw power in his every movement.

Without hesitation, Oliver began to thrust into you, his pace quickening with a new fervor that left you gasping for breath. The desk creaked slightly beneath the force of his movements, the sound mingling with the quiet moans and gasps that spilled from your lips with every powerful stroke. Each thrust was deliberate, his hips snapping against you with a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure radiating through your entire body.

"God, you feel so good," Oliver groaned, his voice rough and strained, every word dripping with raw desire. His gaze flickered between where your bodies were joined and your face, his expression a mix of concentration and unrelenting hunger. His intensity was overwhelming, consuming, and you couldn't tear your eyes away from him.

Your hands instinctively reached out, gripping the edge of the desk for support as his thrusts grew deeper, harder, the angle sending shockwaves of pleasure straight through you. The fullness of him, the way he moved with such precision, made your head fall back, your lips parting in a breathless moan. Oliver leaned over you slightly, his strong hands keeping your legs steady as he drove into you with a pace that bordered on relentless.

The sounds of your bodies moving together filled the room, a symphony of desire that drowned out everything else. Each thrust sent the desk sliding ever so slightly against the floor, a subtle reminder of the raw power behind Oliver's movements. His hands shifted slightly, his grip tightening as he adjusted the angle again, hitting a spot that made your entire body arch in response.

"Oliver!" you cried out, his name escaping your lips in a breathless moan as pleasure coursed through you like fire. He grinned at the sound, his usual smirk replaced with something darker, more primal.

"I love hearing that," he muttered, his voice low and gravelly as his pace quickened even further. His fingers dug into your thighs, anchoring you to him as he drove you closer to the edge. Each thrust was purposeful, each movement designed to wring every ounce of pleasure from your body, and you couldn't stop yourself from surrendering completely to him.

The desk beneath you seemed almost insignificant compared to the connection between you both, the way he moved, the way he looked at you as though you were the only thing in the world that mattered. The vulnerability of your position, the strength of his control—it was intoxicating, overwhelming, and utterly perfect.

The pressure in your body had been building steadily, each thrust of Oliver's hips pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your fingers curling tightly around the edge of the desk as the overwhelming pleasure coursed through you, making your entire body tremble. The intensity was almost too much, each wave of sensation crashing over you faster than the last, until you felt yourself teetering on the brink.

With one final thrust, the tension inside you snapped. Your back arched off the desk, your head falling back as a guttural moan escaped your lips. Heat rushed through you, your cum spilling out in hot, pulsing streams against your stomach, the release leaving you breathless and utterly consumed. The slick warmth spread across your skin, a stark contrast to the cool air of the office. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the aftershocks of your orgasm still rippling through your body.

Oliver slowed his movements for a moment, his gaze dropping to your stomach, where your cum glistened against your skin. His lips curled into a satisfied smile, the dark, hungry gleam in his eyes telling you just how much he enjoyed watching you come undone beneath him.

"Beautiful," he murmured, his voice rough and low, filled with both admiration and desire. But he wasn't done yet.

His hands tightened their grip on your legs, holding you firmly in place as he resumed his thrusts, this time with a newfound urgency. His movements grew faster, more erratic, the sound of his hips snapping against you filling the room as he chased his own release. The sight of you, still trembling from your climax, seemed to spur him on, his breathing ragged and heavy as he drove into you with relentless intensity.

The raw power of his movements left you gasping, your body still hypersensitive from your own pleasure. Each thrust sent another jolt through you, the rhythm pushing you to the edge of overstimulation even as it brought him closer to his peak. His head fell forward slightly, his jaw clenched, and his hands flexed against your skin as his pace quickened.

"God," he growled through gritted teeth, his voice rough and strained as the tension in his body built. You could feel him throbbing inside you, his muscles taut as he edged closer and closer. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with a fiery intensity that made your breath hitch, and you knew he was seconds away from unraveling completely.

With one final, powerful thrust, his body tensed, his head tilting back as he let out a deep, guttural groan. His release came in hot, pulsing waves, filling your hole completely as his hands gripped you tightly, as though anchoring himself in the moment. The warmth of him, the way his body trembled slightly as he came, left you breathless all over again. His chest heaved with the effort, his gaze slowly returning to yours, softened now with a mix of satisfaction and something deeper, something intimate.

As the tension eased from his body, Oliver leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips—a stark contrast to the intensity of the moments before. "You're amazing," he murmured against your mouth, his voice still husky with the remnants of pleasure. The tenderness in his tone made your heart flutter, a perfect end to the wild, exhilarating ride you had just shared.

Suddenly, the faint murmur of voices drifted through the office door, snapping you out of your blissful haze. Your head whipped toward Oliver, your eyes wide with panic.

"Oh shit," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Oliver, ever calm under pressure, smirked slightly and grabbed your hand. "Come on," he said, tugging you down toward the space under the desk.

"This is not gonna work," you hissed, glancing at the scattered papers strewn across the floor—the remnants of your earlier passion—and the very visible evidence of what had just transpired. Your heart pounded as the sound of footsteps grew louder, accompanied by the unmistakable clack of heels.

The door creaked open, and you froze, crouched under the desk with Oliver. The sound of heels clicking against the floor sent a chill down your spine as the familiar voice of Thea Queen, Oliver's sister and your boss, echoed through the office.

"Ollie?" she called out, her tone sharp and inquisitive.

From your vantage point, you could see her shadow moving closer, her figure pausing as she took in the mess you'd left behind. Papers were scattered across the desk and floor, and—oh no—your pants and briefs were still in plain sight, lying in a heap next to Oliver's discarded clothing. You could only imagine the look of horror that must be dawning on her face as she pieced it together.

"Oh my god, Oliver!" Thea exclaimed, the disbelief in her voice palpable. "If you're going to have sex in your office, the least you could do is lock the damn door!"

You turned to Oliver, glaring at him with an expression that screamed, I told you so! He met your gaze with a sheepish grin and shrugged, mouthing, "Oops."

"Duly noted," Oliver replied aloud, his tone surprisingly casual for someone caught in such a compromising position. His calmness would've been impressive if you weren't on the verge of wanting to strangle him.

From her position above the desk, Thea sighed loudly, clearly exasperated. "Unbelievable," she muttered before she turned toward the door. But before leaving, she paused and glanced back over her shoulder. "Oh, and tell Y/N when you're both...dressed that those papers still need to be on my desk by the end of the day. Got it?"

You cleared your throat, trying to keep your voice steady. "Gotcha," you managed to reply, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

With one final huff, Thea walked out, but not before locking the door behind her. The sound of the lock clicking into place was strangely reassuring, though it did nothing to ease your mortification.

As the silence returned, you turned to Oliver, who was now sitting back on his heels under the desk, a smug smile plastered across his face. "See? Everything's under control," he said with a wink.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn't help the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Oh, whatever," you replied, shaking your head as the two of you began gathering your clothes and the scattered papers. Despite the embarrassment, you couldn't deny the absurdity of the situation—or the fact that you wouldn't trade it for anything.

#dc x male reader #oliver queen x male reader #oliver queen #stephen amell #stephen amell x male reader #oliver queen x male!reader #smut #oliver queen x male reader smut

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liaa--qb · 1 year ago

Text

"WRONG DECISION" (part ll)

[ Dark yan (male) Arya x Daenerys

WARNINGS : DUB con, possessive, Dark, Yandere (male) Arya, obsession, manipulation, fingering, oral, explicit, cheating, angst

Summary : Daenerys arrives at Winterfell to rule with John but things may not go well planned as her strange brother in law takes some special interest in her, extremely special interest.

PART 2

(Would appreciate likes and share ❤️ btw I literally fancast harry gilby too for this😅 what do you think)

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Later Dinner progressed at a leisurely pace, and, thankfully, this time, John was by Dany's side. Laughter filled the air as Tormund shared humorous stories, while John's friends regaled the gathering with tales of their adventures in different places. The atmosphere was convivial, and many of the court's wives approached Dany to engage her in conversation, much to her surprise.

It seemed that things were not as challenging as she had initially feared, and perhaps, in time, they might improve even more. Sansa, however, appeared to be missing someone, evident in her restless gaze as she scanned the room and inquiring about something. Dany took notice of her and inquired, "What's the matter, Sansa? Is there a problem?"

Sansa responded with a brief smile, "No, it's just... Arya isn't present. I know it's not your concern, Your Grace. He rarely misses dinner. As his older sister, I trust you understand..."

Dany had repeatedly asked Sansa to address her by her name or simply as a sister-in-law, without the need for the formal titles, but Sansa had always maintained her overly formal tone. Only John seemed to be comfortable enough to use Dany's regular name, a fact that left her wishing Sansa would drop the formality and greet her as her sister.

"Oh, don't worry, he may be occupied with some matters. If I come across him after dinner, I'll ask him to meet you," Dany reassured Sansa with a sweet tone, her hand resting gently on Sansa's. "And there's no need for formalities with me, as I've mentioned before. I'm going to be a part of your family after my wedding with John, so I have to care for Arya as well as for all of you," she added with a warm smile.

It was true; Arya was conspicuously absent. He rarely missed these gatherings, regardless of how busy he was during the day. In fact, for the past four days, he had always been present. Dany found herself dwelling on their session earlier in the day, and this reflection made her cheeks flush. She quickly dismissed these thoughts. How could she shift her focus from caring about Arya's safety to something... something that was quite inappropriate for her to entertain ?

Unbeknownst to her, Dany's gaze had wandered in the same direction as Jorah's, though she looked down immediately upon realizing this. With dinner drawing to a close, Jorah finally approached her. "Are you well, Khaleesi?" he inquired.

Dany managed a forced smile, making it seem like everything was fine and that she hadn't been lost in thought of her brother in law though Jorah appeared somewhat hesitant, a rare pause in his conversations with her. He continued, "I hope you are getting along with the people of the North. If there is anything or anyone bothering you, you can always confide in me. You know that, right?"

Dany chuckled lightly and replied with a soft tone, assuming Jorah had been alarmed by her earlier demeanor, "No, Ser. Everything is fine here, and I'm genuinely enjoying my time."

Then, Jorah gently requested, "Khaleesi, if you don't mind, I know I'm asking my queen, but may I have a private walk with you? We haven't had the chance to talk since we arrived here." A warm smile adorned his face.

Dany felt a pang of sadness as she realized she had to decline his offer, as she had already made plans with John for some quality time together. She couldn't let this opportunity slip by, considering John's busy schedule. She did, however, feel regretful about declining Jorah's sweet request, knowing how deeply he cared for her.

"I apologize, Ser Jorah, but not today, as John and I need to discuss some important matters, particularly concerning the family. I really wished to accompany you, but John mentioned this is the only time he's available. I hope you understand, and I had no other choice." A hint of disappointment was evident in Jorah's eyes, so Dany hastened to add, "But we will certainly make time tomorrow. You, Missandei, and I will spend some quality time together. I promise."

"and I thought my queen wanted to spend more time with the Northerners and her new family. That's sad," At this, Arya's cold voice suddenly cut through, taking both of them by surprise. His voice laced with chilly disapproval, his long coat and a dagger at his side, hands neatly folded behind his back, and the customary straight-backed posture giving him a formidable appearance

"Prince Arya!" Dany gasped, taken aback by his sudden appearance. "You nearly gave me a fright."

Arya couldn't help but wear a sly smirk as he strolled closer. "Then I'd recommend getting used to it, my queen."

Dany couldn't help but notice the lack of warmth in Jorah's expression when he looked at Arya, and she couldn't help but wonder if their previous evening activity had something to do with it.

"So where did my queen wish to spend her time?" Arya inquired, standing beside Dany and glancing between her and Jorah. Dany couldn't help but notice how even his formal tone sounded more like a directive or a mere statement.

"Ser Jorah wished to spend some time with me," Dany began, her voice carrying enthusiasm. "You know, we haven't had the chance for a proper conversation since our arrival. The journey was taxing for all of us, and a leisurely stroll around Winterfell just wasn't feasible today. It will have to wait until tomorrow."

"Is that so, Ser Jorah?" Arya quizzically turned his gaze to Jorah with a straight face. "If you desired a private tour of Winterfell, you could have taken anyone. I would have happily provided a servant for your convenience. Shall I?"

Jorah met Arya's gaze unwaveringly replying"I wished to spend some time alone with Dany, like in the old days. We have important matters to discuss, particularly regarding her safety."

Arya paused, considering this. "But I thought she had planned another training session for tomorrow, which might take a considerable amount of time. I had planned to take Sansa, Bran, and her for a family outing, as my brother suggested she desires more family time." His voice held a hint of inquiry.

In that moment, Jorah cast a defeated and resigned look towards Dany, seemingly at a loss for words. Dany, attempting to defuse the tension and find a middle ground, offered a solution, saying, "No problem, Ser Jorah can join us as well." She turned her gleaming eyes toward Arya and continued, "Believe me, Prince Arya, he is like family to me. We share an exceptionally close bond, so why not include him?"

Arya, though he gave a nod, still held a challenging expression. He appeared unhappy with the decision but refrained from voicing any opposition.

"Please forgive my curiosity, but is this related to concerns about your safety, my queen?" Arya asked with a small, bemused smirk. "I mean, if that's the case, Ser Jorah, you can freely enjoy your time. When I'm with her, you don't need to worry, especially about her safety," he asserted with a sharp tone, his gaze fixed directly upon Jorah. "Her safety and well-being are now my responsibilities."

For a moment, they locked eyes, with Jorah appearing to have some unresolved issue with Arya. Dany had grown accustomed to Jorah's behaviour after spending considerable time with him.

Dany couldn't help but feel it was unjust to regard Jorah as merely another random soldier, even though Arya's intentions might not have been harmful. Jorah's loyalty ran deep, and he deserved respect equivalent to his commitment. She believed he shouldn't be discarded repeatedly, especially when his request was so modest. "No, Arya, please pardon me, but I cannot change my decision. I made a promise to Ser Jorah," Dany replied to Arya with sweetness, hoping that he would comprehend her stance.

Just then, John and Sansa joined them, their faces reflecting curiosity. Sansa exclaimed, "Arya, you came late for dinner!"

Arya explained, "Yes, I was just finishing up some work, sister. Oh, John, I need to discuss something with you. I'm glad I found you soon enough." He nodded towards John, whose arm was draped around Dany. John and Arya decided to step aside for a private conversation, with Dany grabbing John's collar for a parting kiss. Both Dany and John exchanged happy, loving glances before parting. John kissed her hand and spoke in a low, gentle voice, "I will come." With a reassuring pat on her cheek, he finally walked away with Arya.

Jorah stood still, wearing an expression of complete boredom. Sansa chimed in, "I hope Arya didn't bother you too much. Sometimes he's quite rough with his ideas and peculiarities, but there are moments when he behaves perfectly normal." She smiled briefly while glancing at both Dany and Jorah.

Dany nodded in agreement. "Of course, I can understand. We are new here, so it's natural for us not to grasp his intentions and words at times. But I can see he's young and quite sensible. How old is he?"

Jorah finally contributed to the conversation, much to Dany's relief. She had been hoping that Arya's words hadn't affected him. "The boy is remarkably well-trained with weapons, especially for his age. I must say he possesses a sharpness in his attacks that I rarely see in warriors, especially someone as young as him."

Dany responded softly, "He's doing incredibly well, considering his age and all he has endured."

Sansa added, "Yes, I know. He was just a child when he went through so much. There were times I was scared, wondering if he was even alive."

Dany looked at Sansa with a sad but reassuring smile and said, "I can understand."

Sansa replied, "Oh 18, he's almost 18, just a few days away."

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THAT NIGHT LATER

After dinner, Dany, Ser Jorah, and Sansa engaged in a lengthy conversation, which proved to be quite enjoyable for Dany. This marked the longest conversation she had ever had with Sansa, and it was a pleasant surprise. As the night grew darker and colder with each passing breeze, the landscape outside was completely blanketed in snow.

Dany couldn't deny that it had been a good day, but she felt the need for a hot bath. Her body was tired from her activities throughout the day, including her sessions with weapons, and the biting cold outside only encouraged people to retreat to their warm chambers.

Later, Missandei accompanied Dany for her hot bath. The two of them engaged in a conversation about their day and shared information about the various members of the court and their surroundings. Missandei playfully teased Dany about John, emphasizing, "I hope you had a good time with him." Dany smiled, her face lighting up, evident even to Missandei.

Missandei remarked, "I'm happy to see you smiling and enjoying yourself after the rather somber mood you've had these past few days, Your Grace." As she scrubbed Dany's arms, she continued, "Yes, you're right. Today, after a long time, I actually felt happy. Everything seemed fine. I'm realizing now that I may have been overreacting. I believe things will certainly get better in any case." Dany responded, her attention drifting as she played with the bubbles in the bathwater.

Missandei cheered her on, saying, "Yes, and there's no need to worry about John, Your Grace. You're quite fortunate; he's a truly good man. I've observed him closely. He loves you dearly and is incredibly caring." She made sure Dany was comfortable, allowing her to relax.

Dany lowered her head a bit further, resting it on the edge of the bath, and mused, "Yes, we do love each other. But I'm definitely going to tease him." She smiled mischievously while glancing at Missandei and continued, "He kept me waiting for far too long."

Missandei giggled, "Don't do that! He might become sad, thinking something like you must be asleep."

Dany nodded, "Yes, initially, he might. But then, I'll surprise him instantly. I love seeing him shocked and a little scared on such occasions, and he deserves this tonight."

Both of them laughed heartily while sharing their gossips, effectively washing away the weariness of the day.

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In the deep, enveloping darkness of the night, everyone had retired to their chambers, leaving the palace shrouded in silence. The only sounds that persisted were the thuds of the cold breezes, the gentle patter of water droplets, and the occasional crackling of the wooden logs in the fires. The palace appeared somewhat eerie in this solitude, but Dany couldn't have cared less. Her mind was elsewhere, immersed in thoughts of John and the anticipation of his arrival.

She wanted to look enchanting this night, especially for him. As she strolled through her chamber, her fingers played with one another in a state of tension.

Her gaze wandered among her finest dresses, but her eyes settled on one in particular. It was a thin, crimson gown with an impossibly deep neckline, its hem stopping just shy of her navel, adorned with delicate rose patterns. A small smile graced her lips as she selected this dress.

Nuzzling her cheek against the dress's exquisitely delicate, silky fabric, she couldn't help but ponder how destiny had never allowed her to wear it of her own accord. It was a beautiful garment, a gift given by Viserys, but she had resolved to wear it when she met her prince—the one who would save her and grant her the happiness of a loving family. Her mind drifted back to the days of her suffering and yearning, a time when she had never found the one.

But now, he is here,he stood before her, ready to take her away from her trials, the one who would love her boundlessly.

Dany positioned herself in front of the mirror, her chosen dress clinging to her body. She wondered if it would do justice to her beauty, but the thought of herself without the dress teased her even more. A devilish grin crept across her lips as she contemplated the night ahead.

Dany prepared herself with meticulous care, adjusting the neckline of her dress while gazing into the mirror. As she combed her hair, she couldn't help but think of John and how he would tenderly run his fingers through those locks, warming her with his affection. While contemplating whether to braid her hair or form it into rose-like buns, she ultimately decided to let it cascade freely.

It looked enchanting on her, yet she longed to recreate the rose bun, a style that John had often praised. Though crafting the intricate bun felt like a heavy and challenging task, she pushed herself to do it, knowing that this night was for both John and herself. She left it a bit loose so that it could be undone easily later.

Beyond the chamber's walls, heavy bricks of snow fell from the eaves to the ground outside, creating a symphony of loud, echoing cracks. To her, each sound was a harbinger of John's arrival, adding to her anticipation. She added a delicate scent from Dorne to complete her preparations.

The room was warm and inviting, a sanctuary against the biting cold outside. Despite the coziness, she found herself drawn to a blanket, wrapped around her as she sat in a chair, her thoughts filled with anticipation.

Sitting there, Dany contemplated whether she should change her cushions to something softer, but she quickly dismissed the whimsical thought with a laugh, knowing John would surely think her mad. With all her preparations nearly complete, she was now only awaiting John's arrival to finalize the evening's plans. She dashed off to lock her door securely, a crucial detail she couldn't overlook, and a part of the night she thoroughly relished.

A gift from Braavos, a bottle of special perfume was in her hand, and as she sprayed it around her room, she marveled at the captivating, almost mysterious scent it exuded. Known to leave people a bit dizzy, this fragrance was said to possess an enchanting quality, making it a favorite choice for newlyweds on their first night. As she visualized John's mockingly frustrated expression when she refused to open the door and imagined how his sweet charm would eventually win her over, she couldn't help but smile.

Seated on her bed, she waited for John, knowing that the castle gates would soon be sealed for the night. It was the hour when all work came to a halt, and if John had been anywhere outside, he would be making his way to her room. Standing beside her small window, she noticed there was no light coming from John's chambers, nor were his guards present.

It was clear he was on his way. With a sense of anticipation and excitement, she let herself lie down on her bed, closing her eyes and relishing these moments.

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Dany awoke abruptly, shaken from her brief slumber by another loud crash of ice bricks. She hadn't realized how long she had dozed off and jolted herself awake, worried that John was taking an unusually long time. Glancing around her chamber, she observed a complete absence of anything unusual, even as she peered outside her door and through the small window.

She sank back onto her bed, nervously awaiting his arrival, silently dreading the thought that he might have forgotten their meeting. She refused to entertain that idea, convinced that everything had been perfect on this day and that nothing could possibly go wrong.

However, as time continued to slip by, he still hadn't appeared. Even the wolves, she thought, would be resting now, but he was nowhere to be found. More time passed, and he still didn't come.

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Now it passed more than hour and yet he wasn’t there.

Dany lost track of time, waiting, and still, he didn't come. She accepted her fate, tears welling up in her eyes, and let herself fall into a deep sleep, seeking solace in the warmth of her blanket and silky cushions. Her weary body couldn't endure the anticipation any longer.

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Later hours a sudden, loud pounding on her door jolted her from her slumber. Dany was unaccustomed to such a clamor in the middle of the night. She wondered if John had finally arrived but soon realized that it couldn't be him. The pounding was relentless, intense, and filled with urgency.

"Who's outside?" Dany asked with a mix of curiosity and alarm. "I demand to know who's out there!"

The banging continued, growing even louder, and Dany's heart raced with each forceful thud. It felt as if the door was on the brink of breaking open. She hurried to her bed, covered herself, and grasped a small knife, ready to defend herself.

The door creaked open, and when Dany turned her eyes toward it, she found Arya standing there. At first, her racing heart slowed as she recognized him, but her shock and curiosity remained. Flustered by his unexpected presence, Dany asked with an alarmed voice, "What are you doing at this hour? You frightened me. Is there an emergency? Is everything all right?"

Arya appeared at a loss for words. "I... I, my queen, I..."

Concerned by his unusual behavior, Dany rose from her bed and approached him in much tension "What's the matter? Why are you here, and why are you acting like this? Please, say something. Your silence is making me even more anxious."

While who Arya continued to appear bewildered, gazing at her as though she were some foreign entity or a White Walker itself. Dany tried to meet his gaze, which lingered from her head to toe, particularly below her neckline, causing her cheeks to flush.

Finally, he continued in his soft, hushed voice, much to Dany's surprise. "I came to check on you. I noticed the lights were on in this room. I tried to open the door quietly, but it was locked tightly, and something seemed to be blocking it i thought," he said while glancing around at the large table Dany had placed in front of the door. "I couldn't make out the sounds clearly. At first, I attempted to knock, but when it seemed like you weren't responding, I feared you might be in danger. That's when I began banging on the door," he explained, his gaze fixed on her with intense eyes. "I apologize, my queen."

Dany finally managed to calm herself as she realized the situation. She nodded and sighed, "oh It's... it's alright. Just please don't behave like this again."

However, she noticed that Arya didn't make any move to leave her room. He stood there, gazing at her with an intense look that she couldn't help but describe as resembling 'lust' Dany followed his gaze and was shocked to see that her dress had become loose, with some threads undone during her restless sleep. It was revealing far more than it should have, and one of its straps had already slipped down her arm.

Dany felt a surge of shame as she took in her disheveled appearance and Arya's penetrating gaze. She knew she shouldn't look this disarrayed, with her hair now flowing loosely in untamed waves, her beautiful dress creased and ruffled in ways it was never intended to be. Her dress, which was already rather sheer and clingy, added to her apprehension.

She began to reach for a long woolen shawl on table, intent on covering herself and regaining some composure. But before she could do so, Arya gripped her arms firmly, preventing her from proceeding.

"Don't," he said, holding her arms gently and guiding her back toward him.

Dany's body still trembled slightly from her recent sleep, and Arya's cold touch sent shivers along her nerves. She attempted to explain, her words almost faltering, "But, Prince, it's not... It's unqueenly of me." Her sentence was cut off swiftly by Arya's response.

"No, you don't need to do that," he said, drawing her closer to him. His tone was soothing and understanding, as if he didn't fully comprehend the meaning behind his own words. "It's just me and you, and you don't need to hide anything, especially from me and I already told you this."

She sensed his fingers grazing her arms, and then she saw him whisk the shawl away, discarding it carelessly. His eyes remained locked onto hers, an unwavering connection that both unsettled and intrigued Dany. While the intensity of his gaze made her slightly uncomfortable, her own expression was something of a paradox.

For a prolonged moment, he merely observed her, his eyes traversing her features. He moved from her eyes to her neck, then down to her lips, and her chest, which rose and fell rapidly with her unsteady breath. The look in his eyes was undeniably charged with desire, and Dany couldn't ignore the fact that this was indeed a lustful stare.

Despite this, she reasoned that he was a young man, and such feelings were perhaps only natural. At least, she hoped so. The gaze wasn't entirely consumed by lust and longing, as if he viewed her as some precious and delectable fruit he wished to consume or a piece of jewelry to be won.

To alleviate the mounting tension, she decided to shift the focus and inquire about John. "Did John return? Is he safe?" She endeavored to conceal her emotions behind her words.

"Why do you always have to bring him into everything? Can't you stand on your own in Winterfell?" Dany was taken aback by the sudden shift in Arya's tone, and she gazed at him, his eyes now hardened and filled with darkness. Arya's response took her aback. His tone had shifted dramatically, and it was almost accusatory. Dany stared at him, her shock palpable. "What do you mean ?" Her voice betrayed her bewilderment.

Arya's demeanor transformed once more, but not to the same extent as before. "I didn't mean it that way," he clarified. "I only wanted to reassure you that you're not tethered to John's side all the time. Winterfell is your home now, too. You can come to me anytime if you ever need assistance. Don't you trust us?"

"No, no, my prince, I trust you completely," she reassured him, her hands gently resting on Arya's arms. "I'm not dependent on John. I was simply anticipating his return, that's all," she concluded the sentence with a tinge of sadness she couldn't conceal, her gaze lowered.

"And he didn't come," Arya replied sternly.

Dany was again taken aback by his sudden intrusion into her personal affairs. "Yes," she responded softly. "I think you should return, it's quite late." She was just about to request that Arya leave, but her words were swiftly interrupted by his startling remark.

"Sometimes I wonder, does he even deserve you? How did he manage to win you?" Arya chuckled, a sardonic grin on his face, which conveyed nothing but irritation.

This behavior was peculiar, even for Arya, and it felt like he had crossed a line that no one had ever dared to approach before.

Dany was utterly shocked by his question. "What..what ?"

"Yes, I shouldn't be saying this, but it's the plain truth," Arya replied, his voice cold and soft, his shoulders subtly shrugging. Dany found herself struggling to grasp the reality of what she was hearing. She couldn't decide whether to scold him, be afraid of him, or wonder if he was in the right state of mind, or if he was genuinely like this.

"You don't need to interfere in our personal matters, especially concerning John. We love each other deeply, and he must be occupied with his duties, as I understand as a queen myself. Besides, he's your brother," she stated, her words firm and direct, although she was trying to maintain an air of confidence.

"Really?" Arya chuckled as he stepped closer, moving in much nearer to her. She could feel his cold breath on her skin. "I didn't mean to frighten you, I promise. I love my brother too, but... he's too foolish to leave you alone like this," he spoke slowly, his tone growing smoother and more sugary.

To Dany, it sounded like a sweet threat more than anything else. His eyes were fixed on her lips, filled with desire which she was unknown to. Dany wanted him to move away, to give her some space to breathe, but he didn't budge an inch from his place.

She couldn't comprehend why his presence was so intimidating, making her hesitate to push him away or say something. If it had been anyone else coming this close to her, she would have slapped them without a second thought. But there was something about Arya that left her momentarily paralyzed.

"Prince Arya... please, it's better if you..." Her voice was barely audible, a mere whisper.

"You are so stunning, Daenerys. I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Arya's voice took on the quality of a dark lullaby. Her name sounded exquisite as it left his lips. Daenerys managed to summon her strength and looked directly at Arya, who was studying her face with intense focus. She felt a fluttering sensation inside her, something she shouldn't be feeling.

There was something about his gaze that always stirred something within her. Her breath caught as she realized his fingers were gently running through her hair, loosening her locks. "Keep it open always. Why do you tie them up?" he asked softly, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. His fingers continued their journey from her hair to her cheeks. "So incredibly beautiful, so delicate, so naive..," he whispered, his fingers caressing her skin, his eyes locked onto her face.

This was undeniably wrong, completely and utterly wrong. Dany knew she should be ashamed for allowing her brother-in-law to cross these boundaries and engage in such improper actions, but the strange truth was she wasn't. Her body defied her better judgment, ached to be closer to him. She should have pushed him away, ordered him to leave, but instead, she found herself silently inviting him further, desiring to explore the depths of his cold, restrained touches. The brutal cold of the night outside only intensified her yearning to discover the warmth of his body, to see what he could do more with her.

Daenerys snapped herself out of her irrational thoughts, forcing her mind back to reality. She had become so lost in her contemplation that she hadn't noticed her back was nearly against the wall, and Arya's tall and lean frame encroached upon her, making her feel insignificant. She swallowed hard and attempted to stand straight, but it felt like everything was slipping through her grasp.

Arya gently stroked her cheeks with his hands. "You wanted to spend your special night with him, to give your all, and he just left you waiting. How sad for you," he cooed in a sweet but mocking tone. Daenerys could barely manage to speak under his touch. "No, that..that that's no..not what it was..."

The fire in room crackled tensely, mirroring the tension inside her.

"Don't lie to me," Arya's fingers began to trace the contours of her shoulders, his voice holding a mix of sternness and dark curiosity. "You sleep like this every day, wearing this.., don't you?"

"Don't lie to me," Arya's fingers began to trace the contours of her shoulders, his voice holding a mix of sternness and dark curiosity. "You sleep like this every day wearing this., don't you?"

she could only manage to stammer out, "Ye ye yesss, i..I do." Her body was melting beneath his touch, and she was unsure what kind of sorcery he was wielding over her heart.

He leaned closer, his breath brushing against her ear. "And this scent is used by whores in Braavos. You shouldn't be wearing it unless... you're one of them," he whispered, his fingers lazily wandering through her hair as he took his time. "How do you kn.. no, it's not..." Daenerys' words faltered, her voice trembling and her breathing heavy, unable to complete her defense. What had come over her?

With a challenging glint in his eyes, he remarked, "liar..I know it. I have quite a history with Braavos and you don't need all this. You don't need to dress like this." His fingers ventured further down her neckline, tantalizingly halting just above her navel. "You, alone, are enough. Without the dress,bare.. even more wonderful blessing," he added. In that moment, Danys was pinned against the wall, feeling as if it were the only thing keeping her from surrendering to the intense allure.

Pathetic, helpless, and devastated, she stood there. Her skin was ablaze with desire, every touch of his fingers against it making her heartbeat race as if preparing for a battle.

Arya continued in a smooth hushed tone, "Don't mind me, but I would never leave such a woman alone, even for a moment, if she were my betrothed... I would devour her every chance,every moment I get," he whispered, his eyes fixed on her face, his fingers tracing the warm contours of her cheeks.

She had completely lost herself under his touch, his intense gaze, and everything else about him. Perhaps, in her denials, she had been denying her own needs as well. Finally, she opened her eyes and realized he was too close, dangerously close, as though he was about to consume her.

Thankfully, after a sliver of light seeping in from a slightly ajar door caught her eye, her gaze landed on the wedding dress she had got from John as gift.. With all her remaining strength, she distanced herself from Arya. Moving toward the door, she swung it open wide, signaling for him to depart with a courteous smile. "I think it's too late, Prince Arya. You should return to your room. I need some rest as well."

Arya moved away slowly, a faint grin clearly visible on his face as his eyes remained fixed on her. Dany struggled to avoid direct eye contact, looking elsewhere. When he approached the threshold, he couldn't resist a parting shot, "Goodnight, my queen. It was a pleasure to see you.. like this," he said with a honeyed tone, his smugness unmistakable.

"Thank you, Prince, for checking on me. Goodnight to you as well," she replied with a forced smile. She immediately closed the door and leaned against it, her breath heavy as if she had been suffocated throughout those moments.

Turning off the lights from candles, she walked over to her bed, cocooned herself in the embrace of the soft cushions and blankets, seeking nothing but peace. She was determined to ensure that whatever had just transpired would never happen again; it had been an ordeal beyond her imagining.

#house of dragons #daenerys x reader #queen daenerys #daenerys targaryen #yandere #yandere male #possessive #obession #manipulation #male manipulator #dark fantasy #game of thrones fanfiction #got fanfiction #got smut #arya stark #hotd fanfic #asioaf #got fandom #Daenerys x arya

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armandisdaddy · 7 months ago

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We’re Just Friends Chp.3-Modern Au! Rhaenyra x Dornish Male Reader

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x Dornish Fem!Male Reader (House of Blackmont) Cragen Stark x Fem!Male Reader

Content/Warning: !!🔞PLUS!! Angst, Denial, Some Sexual Content, Tension,p in a penetration ,breeding kink, unprotected sex, Smut, oral both males receiving, toxic love, LOTS of Jealousy, and a bit of a love square. (No not a triangle lmfao) guy on guy action this chapter.

Author’s Notes:The reader and Rhaenyra are going to be quite back and forth but trust that the reader isn’t necessarily waiting for her. They know where things stand with her or at least that’s what they tell themselves so in this series you will see them dating or fucking other people. *shrugs*

Chapter Three

Last night was a bit of a blur. Not to mention this hangover was tearing you up. You had a brain splitting headache and you couldn’t even sit up without feeling like you wanted to hurl. Waking up you heard giggling in the living room and you knew exactly who it was…Lydia and Rhaenyra…how could she..? After what happened last night you thought..she’d realize the two of you were meant for each other…but old habits die hard you guessed. You sighed and dragged yourself into the kitchen to get a glass of orange juice. Nyra gave you a knowing look and Lydia sneered at you. You rolled your eyes at the both of them and went back into your room. Plopping back into the bed you just wished you could disappear and be any where else away from here.

Your phone pinged and you saw it was your Nyra

Bestie

“Look last night was a mistake…I’m sorry. It won’t happen again and I know you hate me especially after what Lydia said to you but I promise she’s gonna be better.”

You don’t even bother to respond you left her on read and let out a loud “Wowwwww!!!!” Laughing obnoxiously did she really think that was going to make you forgive her after she used you and made you feel stupid again? Just when you were about to throw your phone somewhere you got another message

Unknown number

“Hey it’s Cragen…from the club last night. Sorry I didn’t get to text you I had gotten into the find that ended everyone’s night.”

You

“Oh so you and some other jackass ruined the party..lol I’m just kidding, hey.”

Cragen

“My apologies I had a bit too much to drink…so do you have anything planned for today? I wanted to actually hang out somewhere..maybe get to know you better.”

You

“No I was actually going to sleep off this headache but I’m down. Where we meeting up at?”

Cragen

“I know this great spot that has brunch. I’ll send you the location.”

You

Okay bet I’ll meet you there.

Without another thought you hopped into the shower with the biggest smile on your face. You were excited to make a new friend…maybe more even though this thing with Rhaenyra had your brain and heart at a war with each other. It wasn’t fair and you decided that there was to be no more slip up and now it was time to find out who you were without here. After you finished your shower you did some light eye make up and let your hair dry in its natural wavy state. Now it was time to find something to wear. Looking around in your closet you found a cute baby blue crop top and a denim miniskirt with white platform boots. “Cute.” You said to yourself looking at yourself one more time before grabbing your bag and keys to head out.

Walking past Rhaenyra opened her mouth but decided not to speak you stopped noticing looking back at her almost daring her to say something. Lydia still oblivious as fuck she smiled you and you sneered. “Save that fake shit for someone who gives a fuck…you don’t like me and I don’t like you. But, I promise you have nothing to worry about. Your girlfriend and I are no longer friends apparently a disrespectful cunt is more important than me.” You gave a halfhearted smile and rolled your eyes leaving the both of them speechless and looking at each other for answers. If this was how you were to be treated you were going to make the rest of this semester extremely hard for the both of them.

You hopped into your car and pulled off. You saw the place Cragen was talking about and already knew where you were going. You and Rhaenyra use to go here all the time. It took no time for you to get there and to your surprise he was already standing there waiting for you. After parking and getting out you smiled shyly and he opened his arms for a hug which you gave him without hesitation. His arms wrapped around you and fuck was he strong the way he squeezed you…felt perfect like you belonged there while you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Hey. You look amazing as usual.” His voice deep as he inhaled your scent. You blushed and smiled “You look good too.” Once the two of you pulled away he led you to a booth and you already knew what you wanted. The waitress greeting you and giving him a menu already having brought you a mimosa knowingly.“You come here a lot, yeah?” He looked at you while he still needed to look through the menu. You smiled thinking about the many memories here with Nyra. “Yeah, this Nyra and I’s…well it was our favorite spot.” Your voice was once bubbly and excited became low with sadness. “Did…something happen between you two?”

You sighed softly. “Yeah let’s just say her girlfriend doesn’t like me and I don’t really like her either she’s always been rude to me only tolerating me when Rhaenyra was around and well a few days ago she just went off on me. Saying I was too close…and Rhaenyra defended me broke up with her…but somehow they are back together.” Cragen winced and sighed softly grabbing onto you hand from across the table. “I’m sorry to hear that, Y/N. You don’t deserve that, but if you need a new friend to pass the time with you’ve got me.” You smiled feeling the warmth of his hand, while you looked into his eyes. “I’d like that…” The two of you smiled at each other and the brunch continued with moments of silence and then an uproar of conversation. He was actually very funny and had a personality he wasn’t your basic college jock and you were grateful to have crossed paths with him.

After a while of mimosas and food you both were stuffed and feeling a bit of a buzz. You both didn’t want to leave each other’s presence so soon so you asked him to follow you home. “Want to hang at my place with me. We can watch movies?” He gave that handsome smile and agreed. “Sure, sounds like a good time.” You giggled and once he paid the tab y’all were getting into your cars so that he could follow. Now that you were back at your shared apartment. You and Cragen came inside to still see Rhaenyra and Lydia still there cuddling seeming as though they were in the middle of something. Cragen waved awkwardly, Rhaenyra spoke but she was so obviously pissed, Lydia was none the wiser and you stayed quiet walking past them into your room. “What are whore wasn’t he just with your brother?” Rhaenyra shot a look at her “What fucking business is it of yours? Come on we’re going to your place tonight.” Lydia shrunk from her attitude and was confused they were only just laughing moments ago what was her problem. “o..okay..” she whispered grabbing her things while Rhaenyra packed a quick bag before leaving.

Now the two of you were alone in the house and you went into the bathroom to change into some shorts versus the skirt. Cragen was sitting rigidly on the edge of your bed when you came back in and you smiled. “You can get comfortable, Craggy. Let’s find something to watch.” You turned on your tv and laid down pulling him up with you by the arm. “Can I lay on you?” He looked down at you and chuckled. “Sure go for it.” You laid your head on his chest and laid your thigh high sock covered leg over his waist. His rough hands grabbed underneath your knee and the other your lower back pulling you in closer. You blushed and turned twilight on and he laughed. “I love this movie but it sucks.” He laughed. “I know right terrible but a guilty pleasure of mine.” You smiled at him as things began to die down and you watched the movie.

His fingers mindlessly trailed over your exposed skin causing goosebumps to form on your skin. You sighed softly and cooed every now and then which he took notice of rather quickly. “Craggy, you ever been with a guy before?” He looked away from the screen and down at you again. “I have…” You nodded and he sat up a bit. “I know I said I was your friend…and I am truly…but I’m attracted to you, Y/N. Ever since we met last night you’ve been on my mind and I don’t want to overstep my boundaries…but being this close to you…has me hard as fuck.” Your cheeks ran red and could see the lust in his eyes. You couldn’t deny that you were attracted to him too and even felt safe with him. “You’re not overstepping…I want you too..” that’s all he needed to hear before his lips crashed into your plush ones. His hand squeezing your thigh before easing up to squeeze your round ass cheek. Your lips worked together and your tongues found each others rather quickly he groaned into the kiss and you whimpered softly as he pulled you on top of him both hands full of your ass squeezing and kneading it like dough. “Fuck, it’s so soft.” He growled biting into your neck while he thrusted up into you pressing his hard cock against you. He was gentle but rough at the same time. Something you’d never experienced before from anyone. You were all too eager to get his pants off and he didn’t stop you as you fumbled with his jeans pulling them off once you figured out the button.

You saw his cock freed from his boxers and you were shocked at how big he was…scared even. He saw the look on your face and chuckled pulling you back in. “I’m sure you can take it, baby…don’t worry I won’t ruin you yet.” You shuddered in his hold and your own erection began to press into your shorts. He took no time to rip a hole into those thin shorts that hugged every part of you just right. Your cock fell from them and he smiled grabbing on to it causing you to hiss as he squeezed your already pulsating length while his pressed against your ass cheek. He decided to flip you around now his cock was in your face and yours in his. He was too focused on your ass though. Kneading and smacking it watching it bounce with each smack. Your whimpers and moans were driving him crazy and so you grabbed onto his cock striking it slowly before licking the tip and popping it into your mouth. He exhaled softly and trembled feeling your warm and wet mouth sucking him so well. “That’s a good boy…” you trembled at those words and he spread your ass apart lapping at the entrance. You tasted so good he groaned into you biting each cheek before go back to eating and sucking on your tight hole. “oh gods…” you whimpered softly before his hand pushed your head back down. Your eyes rolled back as you continued to suck him sloppily getting him nice and wet and he began fucking your face mercilessly. “So…fucking good…” he moaned helplessly. You were taking in by his voice, his smell, his taste and the way he held you in his hands.

“You got any lube?” He asked and you nodded getting up to get it for him. He stood up and placed you against the wall he was so much more taller than you as he hovered next to you spreading your apart letting some lube drip onto your asshole and he smiled letting one of his thick fingers rub the substance into it before plunging it inside you. You gasped and moaned lowly the arch in your back deepening. “That’s it…” he praised you slowly pumping his finger into you while his face was close to your ear. “When I’m finished with you just know this is mine now.” You nodded quickly your sweet moans filling the room and soon they grew louder once he added another finger. You were so warm and tight he couldn’t wait to bury his cock into you. Your knees buckled together and he pulled his fingers from you drenching his cock in lube lining his cock up to your entrance. Holding your cheeks apart and prodding at your hole until it gave slowly pushing his cockhead in first. You hissed feeling your hole being stretched wider than normal but he was still so gentle and slow. He hummed at how tight you squeezed him and he wasn’t even already in yet.

“That’s a good baby…take it.” Fuck why did he have to talk like that. After he sat still for a while he began to thrust slowly until he was completely inside you. Picking up the pace he wrapped his arm around your throat and pulled your back against his chest pounding into you incessantly. You were losing your train of thought he was fucking into you so roughly hitting your sweet spot with every thrust of his hips and you could no longer hold yourself together. “Y/N you feel so good. You gonna let me breed this slutty hole of yours?” Your eyes rolled. “Yes….please daddy…cum in my slutty hole.” He groaned and continued to slam his cock into you his pelvis smacking into your ass echoed off the walls and he wrapped a hand around to grab onto your length. “We’re cumming together…” he spoke quickly and breathlessly as he stroked and pumped your cock as if you weren’t already overstimulated enough. “Oh my…fuckkkk…Cragen I’m gonna cum…” he chuckled so devilishly hearing those words. “Come on my sweet boy make a mess for Daddy.” Your eyes rolled and you lost it exploding all over your bedroom wall and soon his thrusts slowed down and he was filling you with his seed. Afterwards he carried you to bed and spooned with you. But that didn’t last long before he was fucking into you from the side. Let’s just say the two of you were rather busy for the rest of the night…

to be continued…

#fic rec #hotd fanfic #read it #10/10 reccomend #hotd series #house of the dragon series rhaenyra x male reader #rhaenyra x oc #rhaenyra smut #rhaenyra x reader #hotd rhaenyra #queen rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra fanfic #cragen stark smut

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deaf-solitude · 5 days ago

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am i in the process of writing drag stan pines x male reader smut that’s almost at 5k words rn and nowhere near finished?

nooooo…

#stanley pines x reader #stanley pines #x reader #fanfic #stan pines x reader #male reader #drag queen stanley pines #mullet stan #mullet stanley pines #smut #gravity falls

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gaycragula · 8 months ago

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Overwatch Masterlist

Account Navigation Request Info

Cole Cassidy

Smut- Thoughts Become Real- M!Reader Smut- Stuck with You- M!Reader Smut- Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy- FtM!Reader

Soldier76

Smut- Tear in His Heart- M!Reader Fluff- Mornings with Solider76- GN!Reader

Tekhartha Zenyatta

Smut- Master- M!Reader Fluff- Snowy Confessions- GN!Reader Smut- Sunyatta the Sun God- M!Reader

Genji Shimada

Fluff/Angst- I'm Okay- GN!Reader

Junkrat

Fluff- Poly HCs w/ Junker Queen- GN!Reader

Junker Queen

Fluff- Poly HCs w/ Junkrat- GN!Reader

Brigitte

Fluff- Our Second-First Date- GN!Reader

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acradelius · 9 months ago

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Can you write a junkerqueen X Male Reader smut with Reader being shorter than her and she likes carrying him and she gives him a blowjob and she's holding him up her hands around his waist his legs over her shoulder and his up against the wall

"The Weight Of A Blowjob Upon Her Shoulders"

Fandom: Overwatch / Overwatch 2

Pairing: Odessa "Dez" Stone ("Junker Queen") x Male! Reader

Rating: Lemon [🟡] - (NSFW!)

Warnings/Mentions Of: MDNI, Implied Pre-Established Relationship, Female x Male Relationship, Shorter! Reader, Male Pronouns For Reader, Reverse Shoulder Riding Position, Blowjob - Male Receiving, Female Giving, Exhibitionism, Implied Cum Swallowing.

Word Count: 752 Words

If you'd like to be tagged for all posts, certain fandom posts, or certain character posts then feel free to send a message!

Whenever there happens to be a newly crowned head to a kingdom, there are bound to be some changes made that the townspeople would find surprising. There had been times where the previous leader, Mason Howl, had spent some time traversing throughout the streets of Junkertown, so why would it be any different that the new leader, Odessa “Dez” Stone, does the same thing? It totally couldn’t be that she traverses through the streets of Junkertown with a short man on her shoulders. It was definitely surprising the first couple of times that the townspeople had witnessed the event. The merchants would watch as the Queen would saunter throughout the bustling streets to allow the shorter man upon her shoulders to gaze upon the wares that were being brought in, stopping whenever she or the man saw something that took their interest. It was the typical routine that Odessa and (Y/N) would find themselves doing at least twice a week, but things had ended up quite differently from their usual routine this time.

(Y/N) can’t help but to allow Odessa to take the lead with this one, and he wouldn’t deny that he actually preferred whenever she took the lead with his life, especially with their more intimate moments. Having hoisted upon his shoulders with his crotch within her face, back pressed firmly against the wall behind him. He couldn’t help those desperate, obscene noises of pleasure that escaped past his lips. Those soft whines of pleasure that end up escaping past his lips and out into the open, causing Odessa to have to firmly press her hand across (Y/N)’s mouth not to attract any unwanted attention during their risky moment of pleasure in public. Or those practically incoherent mumbles of praise that fill Odessa’s ears and cause her to let out a soft, muffled moan of her own due to having (Y/N)’s cock in her mouth, which adds even more pleasure to the situation. “Nngh!~ O-Oh, fuck!~”

Oh, how she applies a firm pressure around his length with her teeth as she proceeds to bob her head to take his cock deep within her throat, and then surprising him with switching things up by flattening her tongue to create more space to begin partially taking him down her throat. While he had originally planned to question Odessa of her lack of a gag reflex, (Y/N)’s only given response from her was a playful wink as she once again attempts to take his cock deep within her throat. It was almost enough to make him cum right then and there, but he felt that he had to hold on just a little bit longer, to be able to elongate the moment longer to burn it into his memory for later purposes.

While those might have been (Y/N)’s thoughts and intentions for the remainder of the intimate moment, it seems that Odessa’s thoughts were a little bit different. Enjoying those sultry sounds that slip from her lover’s lips, how his body squirms against hers no matter how tightly she has a hold on him, how firmly she has him pressed up against the wall. He couldn’t even began to describe the sensation that was arising within him as she began to increase the pace of her bobbing her head against his length, hollowing her mouth to create more of a suction, and continuing to moan around him, all while those piercing eyes of eyes stared directly right into his own.

Attempting to prevent himself from going over the edge and surrendering himself to his orgasm was becoming more and more difficult and eventually he couldn’t bring himself to hold back any longer. Not whenever Odessa was causing him to feel this good. He couldn’t help but begin bucking his hips at a frantic pace, one of his hands beginning to entangle itself within the front tuft on her head, pulling her head as close as he could to his pelvis while attempting to frantically buck his hips despite being in the slightly awkward position. “F-Fuck, Odessa~ Nngh, ‘bout to cum!~” It doesn’t take much more to be brought over the edge and into that plane of euphoria as his orgasm overcomes him. He can’t help the shiver that overtakes his body and senses.

“Fuck aye, love~” Odessa speaks up while licking her lips, a grin beginning to spread across her face. “So, what do you say ‘bout same time, same place tomorrow, ya?~"

#overwatch #overwatch 2 #odessa stone #junker queen overwatch #junker queen #junker queen x reader #junker queen x male reader #x male reader #lemon rating #x male smut #requests?! thank you<3

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hyunjin-amore · 1 year ago

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Queen of the damned

Akasha

Bloodbound Love

Lestat

Bloodbound Love

#queen of the damned x reader #dom male reader #x reader #lgbtq #top male reader #smut

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tonycries · 1 month ago

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SCREEN QUEEN! - G.S.

Synopsis. To see a movie or to make one? Four times Geto Suguru absolutely ruined you for the cameras, and the one time outside of them.

Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! pórnstar! reader, pórnstar!Geto, he is so DOWN BAD, exhibítionism, breéding, Geto’s tattoos, Geto’s PIERCINGS (d, tongue), THREÉSOMES, some Gojo x Reader x Geto, streamer!Gojo, vóyeurísm, Geto gets one taste is PÚSSYDRÚNK, mast. (Geto), oraI (fem + male rec.), spítting, p slapping, some Toji x Reader, PÚRE SMUT, húmping, matíng presses, semi-public, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 10.1k (woah)

A/N. Have a lovely week <3

“Ch-chin up, honey–” Geto’s drunkenly half-lidded stare sticks to you like a greedy second skin. And it makes him snicker, curling his thick fingers around your neck to force your glassy eyes upwards. “Let the camera see that hah- pretty face of yours.”

You mewl, batting your teary lashes up at his towering figure. Pretty glossed lips pressing the most sinful French kisses up his sensitive shaft, “Like this, Sugu?”

And god, that makes him throw his head back with a whimper. It makes him dredge up everything left of his sanity to remember those next few lines of his, praying that those babbling messes of his groans pick up on the microphones.

“Y-yeah, got that right.” he jostles his muscular thighs even more heavily manspread, baring you with a sopping wet swipe of his angry tip against your pout. Poking the bulbous curve of his cool metal piercing just barely- “So you can listen, brat.”

Damn. Geto’s already sure he’d stumbled over his script a few too many times. Already sure he’d forgotten what the next scene was with how he was too dangerously close-

CUT!

Shit.

He had a feeling this would happen.

Because Geto Suguru rarely ever had to take multiple takes whenever he was filming - he was no novice in this business. Far from it, in fact.

Bearing the title of one of the most-watched porn actors in history - and the five-time crowned winner of the most beautiful, as well - the audience loved him, and the directors loved him even more with just how many big, fat cheques he’d rake in easily.

And you?

That gorgeous newbie paired up with him today that was absolutely ruining him.

“Sorry-” Your honeyed tone snaps him out of his syrupy reverie, and the little smile on your face is so innocent compared to just a few seconds ago. “M’still new to this, so I think it was my fault.”

Yeah, ruining him.

“Not at all. S’cute.” Geto’s plastering one of his suave grins all across his mean mouth, and without a second thought, he’s thumbing away that translucent little splatter of precum at the edge of your kiss-bitten lips. Wetting the curvaceous pad of his thumb, “Besides, don’t worry yourself, pretty lady. I don’t think a uh- what was it- clan leader would stutter as much as I did.”

And oh, he wished he could sneak in a few more glimpses of your laugh, music to his ears. Wondering what it’d feel like to have it vibrate around his still rock-hard cock. But alas, swiftly, the director’s clapping a hand down on Geto’s broad shoulder.

“Suguru- my star! What happened back there?” the older man bares him with a toothy grin that said it wouldn’t last there much longer if he made any more mistakes at today’s shooting.

It was the first time in years that he had to have a word of reprimand. And he wasn’t even fucking you today-

“Nothing.”

“Are we sure-”

“Nothing.” Firmer, this time, with a dangerous tinge that no other actor would dare have. His glassy eyes - still foggy from the slide of your tongue, still aching for more of it - fixate sideways on you getting your make-up retouched right beside him. Clearing his throat, “I won’t fumble next time. Promise.”

But shit, only a few seconds before the next take - the high-definition cameras rolling, the heady lighting fixated on the two of you - and he already feels like he’s about to lose it.

“Said you were a rookie, right? You sure about that, screen queen?” he’s leering a slightly-smug grin down at you, the curved edges of his lips twitching at that little industry nickname of yours.

He’d heard it here and there - mainly whenever Gojo was raving about you, but never did he think you would end up being so…so addictive.

Of course, he’s going to brag to his best friend as soon as this is over.

You’re gifting him with a bratty huff, “I’ve only been making videos for a few months, y’know? So I’ve never had to have a blowjob scene with someone so-”

And with a gulp, your syrupy eyes flicker downwards at his achingly hard cock - famed for just how massive Geto was. Already so creamy with a glistening coating of precum drizzling down his thumping veins, standing so thoroughly and thickly upright that it made your drenched thighs squeeze. Yearning to steal another taste of that furiously strawberry-blushed fat tip. “-so big.”

Shit, Geto could feel his fattened cock jolt already.

Hissing, “S-save it for the camera, honey.”

“Okay! Take 2, Act 1 of 1 from Cult Leader Geto.” A ringing voice cuts through your saturated air, and he’s settling back into his poised seated position on that decadently throne-like chair, you on your knees. “ACTION!”

“Messing up such an important mission, hm?” Geto spits, stern voice targeting you at your very dripping core. Sear-like grip making your throat burn, fuming, “Y’know there’s only one way to make up for it, right, honey?”

Your lips wobble oh-so-adorably when he hits them with a splattering smack! smack! smack! of his painfully hard length. Making you mumble, “Wh-what do I hafta-”

And maybe because it was part of the script, maybe because Geto couldn’t last hearing another melodic note of your sweetened voice - he’s shoveling all girthy inches of his swollen cock past your velvety lips.

Unapologetically.

Filthily.

God…it was so easy to forget all the cameras with your tongue.

Pressing the reddened curve of his weepy cockhead to nestle hot and heavy on your tastebuds, your jaw aches with the sheer weight of his hefty shaft throbbing away comfortably on your tongue.

And you swear you can feel big, bulbous tears welling up behind your eyes with how every ounce of blood in Geto’s body comes rushing down into his steaming length. Expanding his rotund head to grow even thicker-

“Shit.” he gasps. “Shit shit shit shit-” Brows scrunching, drooling maw falling slack. Every muscle in his hulking body bows to hunch forwards in his chair, until your tight throat was choking around the thick curve of his swollen tip. One attractively tattooed hand splayed out firmly on the back of your head, “Take it- y-yeah, take it why dontcha? If ya wanna make it up to your leader.”

God, he didn’t know if the cockdrunken way you were nodding was even real - but it made him groan just the same.

Sobbing out a swelteringly hot squelch! of syrupy precum that drips teasingly down the already-messy walls of your mouth. “Heh, maybe ya can even be my s-second-in-command with a mouth like this.”

And he’s giggling out in an almost hysterical way, head throwing backwards when his powerful hips rut up in slow grinds. Back and forth back and forth- that have your now-puffy lips stretching around so widely around his fat cock.

Struggling. Shit, he’s the biggest you’ve ever had.

Geto already knew his agent was going to be on his ass for veering just the slightest degree off the script.

But he didn’t care about that right now.

How could he? Not when the drag of your tongue was swirling around his steamingly hot girth in languid swivels, over and over fighting to trace every one of his prominent veins thumping angrily inside your mouth.

You whine at the saccharine sweet taste of his precum shooting down your throat in wet sputters, “S-Sugu-”

Fuck.

Geto hears himself whimper a pathetic noise as soon as you’re tugging yourself off of his leaky cock, pressing wet peck after peck up the underside of his messy shaft. It’s glossing in glinting lip-prints that he half-wishes he could tattoo. Slipping and sliding to sloppily plant your mouth along the bawling divot at the very end of his rosy pink head.

“Mhm–” he’s drawling, movements as slow as gliding through molasses when one of his strong legs comes to circle around your body. Muscles flexing so tight that if he angled just right he could squeeze that pretty throat of yours. He bites his lip, “Suck on my ah- tip- c’mon, gorgeous. Heheh, yeah gimme a pretty peck, why dontcha?”

With a smug smirk, he’s guiding through trembly digits to thwack! thwack! thwack! his thick hilt in wet splatters across your lips. Only to figure out that he didn’t even have to bother.

Because your sweet mouth was so ravenously reattaching back onto him, starkly raw lips glissading down the bulge of his Prince Albert. Your deft tongue swivels in such a filthy way down the underside of his slit, cheeks hollowing as you suck.

“Spit.”

“S’this-” you hiccup, widened eyes pleading. Spitting out a silvery glob of saliva onto the very edge of his tip, “S’this good, sir?”

Fuck, for a second there he almost forget that every one of your lines are scripted. And he deliriously wonders what if would be like if you called him that for real

“Hmmm, dunno.” His thumb smears across that pool of precum beside your lips - popping it into his mouth tastefully, “Jus’ a bit deeper to make sure. You can do it- c’mon.”

Swallowing up those solidly girthy inches of Geto’s so deliciously. Your nose presses against those drenched tufts of black at his toned pelvis, jittery fingers coming around to massage sultry little circles around his tight, cum-filled balls.

“Heh, think I prefer ya like this-” he’s restless now. Close. Knitting his brows rudely together, abs clenching mouth-wateringly at every wet gyration of his cock hitting the very back of your throat. And he couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop, not even if the director yells cut this time. “-all pliant, n’ shutting up that bratty mouth of yours.” Geto arches his spine so flexibly - a specialty of his - all the way enough to whisper in a hoarse pant of feverish condensation against your ear. “All mine.”

Geto can barely even finish his line - or his train of thought, before with a wracing shudder, he’s cumming and cumming harder than he has in his entire life.

Oozing out the wettest wads of his thick cum, so much of his wispy white seed gushing across in dripping glides into the cavern of your mouth. Back and forth with every jackhammer. The money shot smearing all down your pretty chin.

And fuck, just the way he can feel it sloshing around in a tidal wave inside your mouth makes him groan out your name.

Barely even registering the way it’ll have to be cut out in editing later, no- all he can think about is how heavenly you were milking him. Twisting your tongue to drag out his hazy orgasm, to swipe up even more of it from his piercing, you blink up in satisfaction.

Letting it overspill.

“Heh, fuck-” Geto’s tongue was dangerously loose now, mouth curling up into a simpering smile down at you when he’s bursting out in even more velvety ribbons of cum. It drips halfway down your jaw, washing a perfectly milky lipstain on you. Muttering, “Wish I could fuck you- god, I would-”

He’s cutting himself off with a dampened gasp, just as the chilling air on-set hits his hard erection.

In urgent moves, Geto’s pulling out of your silken soft mouth to drag you upwards with the hand tightened around your throat, crashing his lips into your own with sudden need.

Unsteady. Sodden. French kisses.

This wasn’t in the script - and you whine at the cool metal against his cushy mouth. A tongue piercing. Shit, he had one to match his dick.

Swirling it across your own lips, Geto hears you moan in that sweet voice of yours just as you taste him - taste yourself on him - and he’s sucking on your tongue just as you did with his cock. Pooling all the dredges of salty seed on his own, before spitting it back out-

“Tell yer agent-” he murmurs throatily, two fingers roughly wrangling your mouth shut. To make you swallow. His popping ears ignore the calls from the director for the scene to be cut. Finally completed. And Geto licks up the excess remnants of cum down your lips. “-to let me have ya again sometime, gorgeous.”

CULT MEMBER SLUT GETS TAUGHT A LESSON BY HER LEADER!

37 million views 1.5 million likes

Top comments:

satoruxstrongest: holy shit idk who im more jealous of ꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱

unicorny: I VOLUNTEER FOR THE NEXT MISSION CULT LEADER GETO

hj.eromytits: guys is it just me or does geto sound EXTRA extra whiny in this video~?

tonykrier: No cuz I totes agree

---

Now, it wasn’t normal for Geto to run home freshly after a shooting and…research his scene partner. To spend what seemed like hours upon hours pouring over every single video and picture you’d blessed his obscene mind with.

You.

An up-and-coming new actress, but already dubbed the nickname of screen queen. Loved by many for that sultry sweet smile of yours and just how gorgeous you were when you were all fucked stupid.

Everybody wanted you.

And Geto - oh, Geto was out of his mind.

Shit, he’s thinking through his saturedly needy thoughts, eyes locked on the two sweat-sheened bodies on-screen. It was an earlier one of you and legendary veteran porn actor, Toji Zenin, and the more he eyed the way your bugging pussy so readily swallowed each of his greedily girthy inches - the more he was fucking jealous his agent only booked a simple blowjob scene. Peering at the title-

DILF-NEXT-DOOR GIVES SCREEN QUEEN AN ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT.

That should be him.

The wet schwf! of clothes upon skin emanate throughout his penthouse bedroom when Geto unthinkingly drags the soft mountains of his palm down his throbbingly hard erection. Eyeing at how Toji was smearing your sopping pussy lips open, giving Geto the perfect view-

Shit, that should be him.

Holding back a low moan, “Fuck-” he scrambles to hit the camera icon on his trembling phone, all but ripping his pants down to set free his ravaging cock. “God- m’so fuckin’ hard-”

He doesn’t even know who he’s talking to right about now - the audience, or you.

But all he can think about right now are those sparking stars behind his lids as soon as he runs the solid curve of his thumb along the bump of his swollen head. Still not fully hard, Geto squeezes his fat hilt just the way he remembers you did earlier today.

“S’all because of y-you, y’know?” he’s gritting through clenched teeth, batting those long dark lashes of his right up at the camera. “Why’d you hafta look at nhgh- m-me that way.”

God, his digits were only half as soft as yours were. And he keens at the rough drag of his fingerprints down the sensitive spots at every ride and curve. Melty mind stumbling through every mindless half-thrust into his fist.

Over and over.

God, he felt like a hormonal teenager all over again.

He’s panting - gasping. Every rutting fuck up into his hand leaving his heavy balls clenching painfully, teeth clamping.

Geto’s never been this needy - this desperate to try and graspingly remember what your moans had sounded like through his phone speaker not too long ago. It’s all he can do to sink his sharp canines down onto his fist, desperately holding back whimpers upon whimpers that threaten to spill out into the open.

Yet, they do, anyway.

“M-make me so fuckin’ horny, honey-” he’s swiping at the lazy trickle of drool down the edges of his drunkenly upturned grin. Puffing away the long, inky hair curtaining his eyes to splay out across the bed. “Such a perfect body ya have- such a perfect pussy. Wish I could fuck it.”

Because that delicious arch in your back was practically burned into Geto’s mind, how your slutty cunt was slobbering down gloss after gloss of your sweet, sweet juices down Toji’s fat cock. He’d been massive - rivaling Geto, honestly - and he couldn’t help but muse whether you’d take him that well, too.

Would you cry out and beg for more?

Would you bat your lashes and tell him to slow down- only to huff and puff in that naughty way of yours when he does?

You were…you were so pretty. And all he ever wanted to do was wreck that equally pretty pussy of yours, and ruin your makeup, and you.

You you you you-

Geto’s wrist aches down his tall shaft, stuttering up and down, he flicks his thumb wetly underneath his sensitive slit. Neatly grazing his manicured fingernail underneath the glazed bump, “I’d ruin ya, y’know?” Geto chokes out, and he doesn’t even have to fake the purring moan in his tone. The way his voice lilts embarrassingly higher in volume and pitch, gliding all the way up to nudge in wet peppered kisses across his chilling piercing. “Would make ya shut up on m’cock- hngh- until ya can feel my piercing branding into ya. Ruin everyone else f-for ya.”

God, the camera was so shaky right about now - and he half-wonders whether he wants to post this. Nothing like the usual professional set-up you’d usually see on Geto’s promotional tweets.

And then shit, just the thought of you actually seeing this video has him almost dropping his phone onto the dampened silken sheets below. His overly saturated mind liked to think that you’d like it, that you might even slip your own soft hand down into your flimsy excuse of panties.

“Fuck- fuck.” Geto bounces his head back onto the plush pillows, thighs shuddering even further open, catching every pearlescent bead of precum being smeared down his thickening length. Filthy. So fucking filthy. Making him arch- “Look what you do- look how you’ve got me- fuck-”

He was practically humping up like an animal now. Out of control. Each moan breaking into a whine in a way that Geto can’t stop even if he wanted to.

And the more he thought about you the more-

“Oh h-honey-” One of Geto’s thumb trails their way down to press down at the very middle of the twitchy curve of his balls. Hard. Hiccuping back a mewl of your name, he’s nodding like he doesn’t even realize. “M’gonna cum hah- m’gonna cum, okay? You’ll hafta take it all t-take it hngh-”

And it’s just a few more merely sloppy grinds before Geto’s spurting out in thick streams of cum. So much of it.

He’s fucking his fist like he wishes it was you. It’s making such a mess down his greedy fingers, coating down to his wrist in a gleaming sheen of creamy white. Easier to make him slip up, up, up, and down his swollen, red shaft trying to dredge up something delicious from the very ends of his weepy divot.

He lets his phone drop, thick thighs straddling upon each side of the screen to jerk his achy cock off like your pretty face was just underneath him. Furious. Fast. A low ah! ah! ah! rasping through each breath.

God, his fingers weaken around his cock. Moving as if on auto-pilot when he circles his trickling wet fingers around his own rosy pink nipples - all glistening down his tattoos as if they’d been laminated, they made for the perfect wet dream - then all the way up to suck on them. Cleaning. Tasting himself.

Fuck, wishing it was your hand.

Wishing you were here.

All Geto could think about is if you were here right now, then he’d swipe his blushing tip down your lips, instead - reel you into a dripping wet kiss just like before. He grunted at just how badly he wanted to taste on your candied tongue again-

Still so sensitive from the shoot with you before, Geto’s breathing out in heaves, pants. Tears prickling at the very ends of his bleary eyes, he bites down furiously on his coral pink lips, trying for the fucking life of him to not cum in blanks right now.

He does, actually.

Again. And again and again- spazzing cockhead jerking out a few wispy wet ribbons of his seed, before giving way into nothing. And if you listened closely to the crackling audio, you could almost hear Geto whimper.

Yet, he doesn’t even notice until his thumb swipes shakily onto that red end button on the video.

Doesn’t even register until he’s pulling up his infamously lewd Twitter account, the voice of his agent ringing in his pounding ears from today on something about “promo for your upcoming video” with every few hasty clicks on-screen.

Geto posts.

And he doesn’t even glance a second time at the screen before darting back into his browser history, searching ravenously for any more morsel of you he could dig up.

Because Geto Suguru might just be addicted.

@GetoTheCursed: For @ScreenQueen

2.6 million views 364k likes

Top replies:

moresenpaimore: holy shit the lighting? the shakiness? the whimpers? ITS ALMOST LIKE HE POSTED JUST AS HE CAME DADDY YOURE SPOILING US!!1!111!!

tjzenin: Good taste, kid. - Toji x.

ScreenQueen: <3

---

“Y’look so pretty like this, sweetheart.” Gojo’s angling your head just enough for the blinking camera to drink in that milky trail of slick trickling down the corners of your puffed-up pussy lips. Musing at how it probably couldn’t capture half as how pretty you are with his massive cock bullied snugly into your strugglingly bulging cunt. “Isn’t that right, Suguru?”

“Heh-” The other man only shifts his legs to manspread more comfortably on Gojo’s plush mattress, leaning back on two elbows. “Don’t I know.”

hj.eromytits: ahhh~ a suguru and satoru stream my life is complete~ screen queen is so sexy too~

444stayze: WE NEED MORE COLLABS LIKE THIS SATORU PLEASE

chocho: she’s so…beautiful

*chocho donated 690 chestnuts*

If Geto Suguru was the king of videos, then Gojo Satoru was the king of streaming. Wracking thousands upon hundred thousands - perhaps close to millions - that watched him strip down and bare the winking camera with his cocky, girthing inches. And today, he just-so-happened to have a special guest.

Two, actually, after hearing about your latest film with each other.

His long-time best friend, and the rookie actress he’d been just as obsessed with lately. And the tons of viewers right now were loving this combination.

Your greedy hips squirm ravenously, jostling Gojo’s cock to swirl in syrupy, circular swivels inside your gooey walls. Yet, you couldn’t do anything with the thick, black blindfold wrapped around your two wrists - a staple of his persona. “G-gojo-”

Smack!

All five of his splayed-out fingers come down harshly in a swat against the curve of your ass, and Geto can’t help but gulp heavily at the sinful way it makes your flesh jiggle.

Gojo’s tangling a vice-like grip into your scalp - eyes wide, wild, where he’s leering down at you. “Now now, you’re s’pposed to look at hah- me.” he whines. Shit- when had you even turned to look at Geto. “And what was it I told ya to call me?”

“T-To-”

Smack!

“Louder.”

“Toru!” you squeal, feeling his leaky tip brush up in a wet nudge against your bulbous g-spot. Expanding even girthier to hit at that little bullseye over and over-

“Such a s-slutty voice ya got on ya.” His sharp hipbones mashing against tender skin, stifling balls stinging your ass, juddering knees bouncing even faster. It was so fucking addictive sheathing himself inside the tight channel of your cunt. So hot and cozy inside that Gojo has to force himself to rip his line of sight onto Geto just behind you, “Does sh-she always sound so sweet, Suguru?”

And Gojo’s not surprised - not even the tiniest bit surprised - to find that his best friend already has his silken button-up ripped open, ringed fingers stuffed into his too-tight pants.

Addictive…you were so addictive.

And he’s almost jealous that he’d introduced you to him on this stream.

Tearing away his clinking belt to knead over his rock-hard erection, drawling the very rounded edges of his fingers down his cupped balls. Squeezing. Hard. Geto looks so utterly like he has to force himself to breathe out something even slightly coherent, “Hmmm, hard to say with the way she was on her knees last time- heheh-”

“Such a dog ya are-” Gojo’s rolling his watery eyes, before pecking a wet glissade of his lips down onto yours. The woosh of donations flood the chat as soon as Geto’s letting out a roughened growl, “Dontcha ngh- a-agree, sweetheart? So mean, hm? The chat certainly seems ta think s-so.”

“Mhm–” you’re crying out - difficult, with the way he was sunken in so solidly inside of you. At Gojo’s sheer mercy.

Mercy that was slowly dwindling away with each and every slobbering fuck up into your dripping cunt, and you can’t help but let your jaw drop into a needy oh when his ragged thrusts get faster. More desperate.

Peppering damp pecks along Gojo’s innocently pink lips, “S-so mean, Sugu.”

“Ya hear that?” Gojo swipes his thumbs across your sloppy folds to bear you even further into the camera, and with Geto’s lolling gaze he could just peek the way your sodden hole was gaping widely. How his peaking veins massage your entrance through and forth- “Our girl says you’re a meanie, Sugu~”

candybah: GETO LOOKS MADDD

k-en.j: she looks so cockdrunk already honestly idk who i want to be here

pumk1nhe1d: Love how Satoru winds him up. Wonder if her poor cunt can take both??

And Geto knew that your voice was absolutely dripping with teasing want, he knew that it meant nothing more than a simple line to get him worked up. But the way Gojo’s jittery arms were engulfing you to stick to him so closely, his knowing smirk flashing Geto’s way had him huffing out a pointed few profanities.

“Fuck that.” he’s spitting getting up onto two unsteady feet to shuffle even closer to where your bodies were rocking the decadent bed violently. Tying back his dark tresses urgently - and oh shit, that’s when you know he’s serious. And one of Geto’s fingers smack! away Gojo’s, searing his own possessive grip onto the blindfold to haul you against his washboard abs. “Open.”

Fuck, it’s just about all that you can do.

Slopping out your tongue to present your glistening tastebuds - right on par for Geto to be splattering a thick wad of saliva.

Letting the translucent slick sift across your mouth, and with years in the game, Geto Suguru already had perfect aim. He could’ve already made an easy, clean work of spitting in your mouth.

But, no, he’s speckling wet little messes around your lips on purpose. Swiping it away with the very back of his slender fingers, “Now, would you care to repeat- that?”

Every truncated drag of his moans is punctuated by a ragged rut of Geto’s hips against the globes of your ass. The remainder of his free hands being sure to press your arched body even further backwards into him.

You feel him throb against your heated skin, his fat girth jostling to make you hump down on everything from the very globular edges of his tip all the way down to where his fat balls were kissing up into you stickily. Gushing out steaming hot wave after wave of precum that formed delicate strings to snap!

Smack!

“C’mon now, sweetheart~” Gojo’s slow tut makes you squeal. “S’not nice to leave someone hah- hanging.”

Batting your teary lashes up at Geto, you’re struggling through your relentless restraints to try and crane up into a kiss. And Geto - ever the bully - makes you work for it, barely moving. “M’m-sorry-”

“That’s not what I asked-” his hot breath puffs up dangerously to fan your ear. Cool rings on his digits burning a blazing pathway up to your neglectedly hardened nipples, making you keen out such whiny sounds when he pinches. “Tell me what you said.”

“S-said-” you’re sobbing out. The double stimulation of Gojo’s ravaged cockheadbumping up into your spongy cervix, and the way that Geto’s thumbs were swirling over in pressurized circles over your tits too much. “-said you were m-mean hngh- didn’t mean i-it ah fuck-”

“Are you sure?”

“You really are s-such a hngh- bully, Suguru.”

“Tch, shut up-” And Geto would never admit the way that he was humping you like such a dog. Panting - heaving, practically - with every sodden grind, his teeth tug harshly on your precious ear lobe. “-at least I’m gonna be the one t-to make her cum.”

Gojo’s rolling his eyes, pecking a sudden crash into the very same spot of your g-spot. “No I will.”

“As if, ya had to borrow my camera t-today jus’ to capture how gorgeous she is.”

Both Gojo and Geto’s lips mesh into yours now, tongues bumping into each other, swirling across yours so lewdly. Sucking and nibbling along any inch of yourself that you would give them. Anything that they could take.

He’s bucking his hips sloppily, drawing wet gashes between your pre-soaked lips, and nudging against where Gojo was buried so deep. Too much.

Murmuring into your lips, Geto giggles - giggles every-so-drunkenly in a way that made the stream chat flood. “Heh, if ya really mean it then cum f’me, honey.”

Fuck- then, you do.

It’s hitting both you and Gojo like a sudden semi-truck.

Yelping out a saturated mixture of what sounded like both their names before your gushy walls squeeze tightly. So fucking cozy that Gojo has to stuff one of his long fingers into your quivering hole just to scissor your entrance open, to fuck you through your high.

His fat girth edging you through peak after peak of bliss, your toes curl, mouth still latched firmly with Geto’s. Spazzing cock bawling out a few silvery strings of white down your back - just barely. “My good girl- good- hah- fuckin’ girl.”

“Awww. Look, Suguru-” The other man titters, bringing up his free hand to swipe across your now freshly wet cheeks. “Ya really are a meanie, huh? You made her cry.”

Geto only rolls his dark eyes, that particular remark making him take it out on you - because oh, he might not be fucking you tonight, but it was so utterly fun to rip out those whiny syllables from your pretty mouth. He’s tugging on your nipple with one hand, the other dipping slowly to swat! at your plump clit. “Well, I also made her cum.”

“Hah? No way, that was me-”

“I’ll beat you up right here, right now, Satoru.”

#1 RANK satoruxstrongest: got two special guests! tonight is going to be fun ww `⎚⩊⎚´ -✧

51 million views 4.8 million likes

Top donors:

unicorny: WOAH when Geto SPIT?? And when they were arguing?? My apologies, sir, I did not know you were about that life (she’s so lucky me next)

honey.bunney: LITERALLY MY WET DREAM OH MY GOD BI PANIC I LOVE THEM

king0fcurses: lmfao weak. Invite me on the next stream and i’d show her a better time.

---

God, times like this, you almost hated your profession.

Because yes, despite everything, the pay you received was staggering - but absolutely no amount of money was enough to compensate for the complete and utter asshole that was Naoya Zenin.

And especially not filming with him.

A nepo baby that had climbed his way through the ranks with the help of his family name; most of his audience came to watch him fail utterly pathetically at trying to boss his co-stars around and ultimately end up whining with just the slightest little squeeze of your cunt.

To watch him be broken and sobbing for mercy - exactly the way you preferred him.

Anything but this-

“-c’mon- just one night, baby-” Naoya’s purring voice sleazes across your ears, and you ignore him to clutch your thin robe even tighter around your body. Thankful that the filming and clean-up was finally over. “Promise I’ll have you seeing stars.”

When he didn’t even have you seeing your climax? You want to ask, but unfortunately hold back - for your agent’s reputation, if anything else.

Plastering on an almost-painful faux smile, “I think we spent more than enough time together on-set.”

With that, you shift off the bed to weave determinedly through the bustling camera staff and the director calling out for the editing crew - you didn’t even know where you were going, at this point.

But Naoya Zenin was persistent, if not anything else.

Catching up hurriedly, his fingers tap down the side of your shoulder, gliding over the peaking strap of that pretty pink bra you’d worn just for the shoot today - something special your very own viewers had picked out.

You stand stock-still in the middle of the room when he murmurs into your ear, “Playin’ hard to get isn’t cute, y’know. Just give in-”

SWAT!

“Excuse me-” You’re grinning through the slight sting at the back of your hand - because oh, it was impossible not to smile at the utter look of shock on Naoya’s sharp features the very instant his hand had been smacked away mercilessly. Fuming. Undeterred, your eyes shift down warningly between his legs, “-before I make sure you can never work in this industry again.”

“W-wait-”

But who would bother to wait before making their escape? Not even looking - not even caring - about where you make your sudden strides to.

SLAM!

The door closes. Hard.

And you breathe out a shuddering sigh of relief when the cacophony of noise from outside bleeds away into nothingness, like a stifling little cocoon inside.

Fuck- where had your feet even taken you?

It takes a few blinking seconds at the rows upon rows of skimpy lingerie and outfits for you to realize that you’d shut yourself in the costume room just outside of your current set. And a few more seconds to realize that you weren’t alone-

“Oh!” you gasp. And you don’t even know whether to look - where to not look at the absolute wet dream in front of you.

Geto Suguru was standing unabashedly in the middle of the room, long hair splayed out across his back - and you could count every swirling tattoo of his. Because he was painfully shirtless. Showing off the sculpted ridges and curves of his muscles that flexed a just a little tighter whenever your greedy gaze was dancing down his bulging biceps, his inked hips, his-

“Cat got yer pretty tongue, honey?”

“Wh-wha-” you sputter. Fingers scrambling upwards to cover your eyes - before realizing how futile that is with how you’ve seen everything already. “Cat got your ability to change in the changing stalls instead of where everyone can see, Geto?”

He cocks his smug head, grinning down at you. “Well, it doesn’t look like you’re complaining, though?”

“You’re too much.”

Throwing that thin cotton t-shirt grasped within his digits somewhere off to the side - perhaps to toy with your sanity even more. He crosses his thick forearms, showing off every bumpy vein of his. “Besides- I was here first- helping out ol’ Nanami with a costume. The more important question should be why the Screen Queen of all people is barging in here?” Lips quirking attractively upwards, “Wanted to see me shirtless again so badly, hm?”

You did.

“You wish.”

You’re rolling your eyes, and you never knew how close someone could get to you just within that split-second. Because you’re already feeling the feverish rush of his ragged breath against your features, skin burning mere inches from yours.

Close.

With a gulp, you’re careening back against the velvety walls. “More like wanted to run away from Naoya Zenin and his dates so badly.”

So close.

“Ah.” Geto’s nodding with understanding. Running a hand through his hair, he easily slips that tiny black tie into his mouth. Moving to bunch up his strands into a ponytail, “Need me to beat him-”

You cut him off, “No no no-” Frantically waving your hands about - partially because you really didn’t want him to leave right now. “I took care of it, anyway.”

“That’s my girl.”

And something about the honeyed way he hummed those words made your stomach lurch, it had you panting out a needy breath into the almost non-existent space between you two. One of his palms splay out on the wall beside your head, caging you in. Geto’s greedy gaze daring for a mere split-second to the CCTV camera by the far corner of the room - eh, Ichiji is probably on break, anyway. “Then I guess, my next question is…”

God, he’s so mean.

So teasing.

Reaching up to trail down the very end of his pointer finger in-between the seam of your robes - doing practically nothing to hide the way that Geto licks his lips at every sliver of your skin revealed.

Down between the valley of your breasts, down to your navel.

Down, down, down.

“-did he take care of you?”

You’re stammering your head into a half-delirious shake, “H-he didn’t make me-”

Geto makes an almost primal snarl at the very back of his throat, darkened eyes widening. He sounds so out-of-breath already. “Make you what?”

“-didn’t make me cum!”

And oh, those words changed everything.

“Then I guess I better make up for my colleague’s incompetence, right?”

Because not only did they have Geto Suguru’s sanity snapping, it had your poor, drenched panties as well - stumbling around your ankles in a useless pile of fabric with only one thorough pull of his deftly curled digits.

“So flimsy.” he’s raising one dark brow, sharp canines glinting against the dim lighting in amusement. “Yet it still wasn’t broken- Goes ta show what a hah- great time ya had with Naoya, huh?”

“Please- D-don’t tease-”

What did you even mean to say- don’t tease you? he wonders. As if he ever could. Half-drunkenly, half-deliriously because Geto couldn’t get fucking enough of anything but the way that your pretty pussy was winking up at him with a glistening sheen. So puckered and ready for him that he wanted to give her a little kiss.

A French kiss.

“Shhh- better keep ‘er quiet f’me, gorgeous-” he’s chuckling, hurried now that his knees clatter to the floor with a loud bang! Maybe it hurt, maybe it didn’t- Geto didn’t fucking care. “Because m’not going easy on you.”

And with a raw drag of his heaving inhales, he’s drinking in your mouthwatering essence. Greedy.

Glissading up the very slit between your puffy pussy lips, he’s curling his thumb meanly into your sloppy hole. Circling around in practiced, purposeful little swipes.

“G-Geto–” he’s quietly admiring the way it rolls off of your tongue, and fuck he’s never been one to be cocky over his own name but right now it was so fucking impossible not to be. Batting long, dark lashes from between your trembly thighs, “So mean, y’know that?”

Oh, you little minx. Geto’s brain flashes back to the stream with his best friend-

And he can’t help the sultry rasp of your name at the very back of his throat, the way his ringed fingers come branding down in such a dangerous swat! right against the plump edge of your clit- barely grazing your sensitively beading peak.

A warning.

“What was that?” he spits. Followed by a literal wad of his syrupy saliva right onto the slope of your hole watching the splatters speckle across your drooling cunt. It felt so possessive. “If I’m so mean, then you should find it- heh, sooo fucking easy to stay quiet, hm?” Wild eyes locked with yours - you’ve never seen this look anywhere in Geto’s films. Anywhere. “Wouldn’t wanna be caught with the big- bad- meanie-”

Shit, it was something to tease him - something to get on your longtime idol’s nerves. But you’d never have expected the effect that it would have.

Because Geto was ravenous when his lips are placing a messy kiss onto your own - your other ones. Meshing a sultry glide of his tongue between your swollen folds, his tongue piercing so cold against your tight ring of muscle.

He wasn’t easing you in.

He wasn’t showing you any mercy or regret when Geto stuffs his face as deeply into the heaven between your legs as he could go. And it almost hurts him when his nose smushes harshly into your sensitive nub, when his jaw aches with just how much farther he couldn’t sink into your pretty pussy.

Groaning, one of Geto’s splayed-out palms wrangles your ever-weakening legs onto his broad shoulders, the other toying taunting circles sailing all over your clit. Because he wanted more more more-

“Ngh- fuck!” Your unsteady fingers dangle their way through his silken strands - as soft to the touch as they looked. And you tug when you feel the silvery cold metal dart against your melty walls - not that it moved him even an inch. “Fuck that feels so good-”

“I know-” he’s smirking up at you. “N’ it sounds like e-everyone out there s’gonna know, too- heh. I don’t mind.”

God, that’s when it hits you to lower the volume of your honeyed moans. Biting down on the knuckles of your free hand, you level him with a glare.

“L-look who’s talking-”

Geto only chuckles through the sopping wet squelches he’s reeling out from your cunt. Fingers now dripping downwards with a final pinch to your clit and onto your hole. “S’not my fault your p-pretty pussy’s so talkative, honey.”

“G-Geto-”

“Shhh, lemme hear her talk. Please?”

You gasp when you feel him plowing a trail of his thick digits into your already snugly-filled channel. Such a tight fit with both Geto’s rummaging fingers and his toasty tongue slurping up every bead of your juices.

They’re swirling around you with reckless abandon, no longer the expert methods and tricks you were used to. No, Geto was pumping his fingers into you solely because he was addicted to the feeling.

To the loud slurps and squelches resounding from down below with his miniscule movements.

“Heheh, yeahhh- so fucking mouthy she is. Might as well have s-someone overhear her.” He grunts, feeling your gummy walls clamp down on him so vice-like. And it takes him every shred of willpower to finally part his sinful way with your cunt, to drag his lips in a final kiss down your wet folds. “Hold on- got an idea.”

Fuck.

An idea from Geto Suguru would never bode well for your sanity.

And you were completely right in assuming so, because in a split-second, he’s reaching down to his pants pocket - pulling out a glinting silver lip ring. One that finds itself placed so prettily near the very edge of Geto’s rawly rubbed pink lips.

One that finds itself wrapped oh-so-deliciously around your clit. Sucking.

More.

“Heh, you’re the first one to hah- see me with this new lip ring- congrats-”

“L-lucky me-” you manage to choke out. Hips rutting up and down up and down from the wall, dragging your slobbering cunt all down to make-out with his gorgeous features - and Geto doesn’t look like he’s anywhere but heaven. “It feels- so so- mmpf-”

Without warning, his thorough digits find themselves rudely shoved between your jaw-dropped mouth. Metal rings cold. Thick. Pressing down at the back of your tongue-

“Heheh- what did I say-” he’s dragging his mouth backwards to tug on your weepy clit. Other set of fingers picking apart your sweetest spots inside, ruthless cadence picking up. “Quiet, honey- be quiet f’me like my good girl why- ah- why dontcha?”

Truthfully, Geto himself is finding it so fucking difficult to concentrate.

He’s so sloppy. So loud.

He feels like he could combust with every shuddering gush of your sweet, sweet juices down the lover half of his face. So much of it that it’s dripping down into a lewd puddle onto the floor.

And he’s forced to swivel his free hand punishingly into your mouth to stop himself from traveling it down to his pants and creaming all over it like some loser. God- no- he had to make you cum. And fast. Before he loses it.

“C’mon, my pretty lady-” Geto bursts out in feverish hot pants breathed into your cunt, mouth rearing everywhere. And the stark contrast between his cool lip ring and his mouth made you shiver down your spine in white-hot pleasure. Hot and cold hot and cold- “Can ya hear that?”

Ah, damn. Just your luck - both your ears perk up at the distance resounding of footsteps. Close.

You tug on his long strands. Through muffled syllables, “G-geto–”

Closer.

“S’alright s’alright-” he’s snickering, sounding for all the world as relaxed as ever like he wasn’t two seconds away from being caught with a fellow actress in one of the most scandalous positions for even a porn company. “-jus’ cum f’me. Cum f’me, honey.”

Your cunt was so sensitive. You’re whimpering through his fingers once Geto presses in deeply onto that magical spot. Stars bursting behind your eyes- “M’gonna cum, Geto- so close. M’gonna- m’gonna-”

You didn’t have to finish your sentence.

Because with only a few bustling thrusts of his digits into that very same bullseye, you’re cumming all over Geto’s pretty face. Splattering his chiseled chin in a sheeny gloss of you, so filthy.

And he lets you - oh, he lets you. Why wouldn’t he?

Not when this is all that he’s been dreaming of ever since he had you that one time on set, not when you tasted so sweet spurting your juices down his tongue. Kittenish kisses lapping up every wet gash of slick, his fingers strain with how furiously he’s fucking you through your high.

“Oh- oh, honey— ” The only mantra that Geto can babble out pussydrunkenly, quirking up his hips to grind his rock-hard erection against your thigh. God, he felt like he could cum in his pants right now. “Tha’s right- use me- use me.”

Forcing his jittery fingers down to your hips in a rough restraint, he’s dragging your drooling cunt up and down up and down up and-

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“Hey- ya in here?”

Click! In an instant, Geto’s long arm span is reached over to lock the door.

And god, Naoya’s voice was grating enough that he almost lost his rock-hard erection - if it hadn’t been for that sweetly startled mewl ripping from your throat, that is.

You scoff, fully ready to give him a piece of your - albeit syrupy, orgasmically hazed - mind to the man outside. But with a sneaky finger signaling you to be quiet, he stands back up to his hulking stature. Growling out a biting, “Only one in here’s me, fuck off.”

Only then comes the sputtering, “Wh-why I’d never-”

“Unless ya want your lil’ idol Toji to hear about how you’ve been nothing but a prick to his favorite actress.”

It’s barely even a second later when you hear those footsteps walking urgently away, and not even two when Geto’s hot breath puffs up against your ear. Words slurring and stumbling over one another, gliding his tongue across his lower lip to snatch up every ounce of you. “Don’t you worry-” Before sucking on the very same fingers that were buried inside you, “M’gonna ruin him.”

And that’s all it takes for him to remember something else you’d said about that very man just earlier. Something about a date…as if.

“Kiss me- kiss me kiss me please-” Geto’s mouth hovers over yours. Gingerly placing peck after peck- “Fuck- s-suck-” Not even having to finish his sentence with how your heated lips wrapped around his icy lip ring, dripping with your slick. “N’ I was th-thinking- would ya- only if you’d like- wanna make a movie-”

“Yes.”

Hah, Geto grins. Take that, Satoru.

LOCATION: CCTV room, Jujutsu X company building.

Employee count - 1

“Fuck- fuck-” Ichiji’s struggling to push up his condensation-fogged glasses with one of his slippery hands. Fingers trembling on the keyboard when he’s rewinding the camera footage in the costume room by just a few more seconds. “Oh god- m’gonna get f-fired-”

Again.

And again.

And again and-

“Shit-” he’s shuddering out, head woozy at the sheer overstimulation. Belt clattering against the plastic of his chair for about the nth time this hour. “-she really is a screen queen.”

---

Geto Suguru planned everything meticulously - till every detail was checked off on his seasoned mental list of making the perfect homemade…movie.

Not exactly something that he’d tried out personally before but- but who better to do it than with you? And he swears with every bit of insincere honesty inside of him that this was totally not because he’d been yearning to feel you cumming all over his cock for months now.

Yeah…totally not.

So he planned.

And he had everything - the heady candle-lit bedroom, the fresh silken sheets, the soft music playing from a speaker somewhere across the room. The only undecided thing being the name of your little tryst. Prowling over to you sat on the bed - all it takes is a simple shove to spread you out the way he’s been dreaming of. Humming, “You ready?”

Well, everything except-

“G-Geto, how are we gonna make a movie with no camera-”

Shit, that was the last thing on Geto’s mind right now - just about the furthest thing, despite being the very epicenter of his entire career.

Everything he needed.

But no fucking camera.

Oh.

“Shit.” he’s chuckling - somewhat gingerly, somewhat pussydrunkenly with just a glimpse of you splayed out like this on his plush bed. In another one of you gauzy lingerie sets, leaving barely anything for his overdriven imagination to obsess over. He’s scratching behind his neck, “We can st-”

“No-” And Geto looks just as shocked as you feel right now, skin heating up with embarrassment at your hasty answer.

But oh, that only makes him take it in stride - makes him slide his hand underneath his velvety boxers to knead greedily at his thumping hot erection. Grinning, “The Screen Queen doesn’t want to be on screen? How shocking.”

But it wasn’t.

God, because he could already see that darkening splotch at your silk drenched panties. The way your lower lip wobbled with so much want - he’d already watched enough of your videos to recognize it by now.

He’s nosing down your neck, drinking in each of your little shivers. “How do you want me?”

And all you can say is- “I just want you-”

Swat!

The rounded tips of Gojo’s fingers find themselves placing a pretty peck right on your pulsating clit, sending obscene shockwaves bowing your spine. Right into his arms, “You a-always say the sweetest things, honey.”

You hiss at the cool clash of his proud Prince Albert - and the way that one of Geto’s dangling silver necklaces knock into your chin softly.

And he’s groaning, just throwing his head back at the flurry of stars bursting behind his eyes. Hands gripping onto the edges of his sheets, Geto slides his hips in a slow back and forth against your own. Sandwiching the circular girth of his cock between your sodden folds, they make such a pretty scene.

“Tell me, pretty baby–” His fingers smear at the wet drizzles seeping from either side of your slit. “-do ya get this wet for the c-camera too or s’it jus’ for me?” But you’re only spewing out a few nods and syrupy yeses, gushing all around him that he can’t help but wonder what it would like bursting with him inside-

He doesn’t have to bother waiting long.

Now, usually Geto liked to take his time - would prefer to see you crying and breaking while you beg for his cock more than anything else.

But shit, right now he thinks that a second longer he isn’t buried inside your cunt might make him die-

“C’mon c’mon c’mon-” he’s hissing at the elastic stretch of that first ring of muscle. Easing his way in to bulge your sloppy entrance all full with just the very ends of his bulbous tip. “Take it- please, please take it-”

Geto can’t keep the slight tremble out of his tone even if he wanted to - not with the way your gooey cunt was molding around his shape to suck up every inch of him. And god, was there so much of him. It’s like it was never-ending.

“Shit-” your nails reel red, red marks down the milky plane of his deltoids. “I-I can feel you in my hngh- lungs, Geto-”

He chuckles - all the way into your lungs and he’s not even halfway in, yet? Hell, fuck halfway in, he’d just managed to smear past your swollen pussy lips to rut his fat head inside. Hissing at the clench of your walls around his sensitive slit.

“Suguru-” he gasps, eyes still wrenched down on the way your cunt was greedily gobbling him up. “P-please if you can call that hah- fuckass ‘Satoru’, then call me Suguru, please-”

It’s all that has to come out of your mouth - a sweet, syrupy “Sugu-”

Oh.

Oh, shit.

You feel yourself gulping down every one of his solid inches, a sheer circumference that you never even thought possible- the friction between your gummy walls and his furiously jackhammering cock having you squeal-

Smack!

Finally fully inside you, your pussy lips kiss his thickened hilt like long lost lovers, and his heavy balls shift against your ass.

“Don’t- don’t run-” Geto’s sputtering out a slightly broken plea, pure desperation wafting off of him like a heady perfume. It was contagious. And his rough fingers grip tightly around your waist, jousting up the dampening blankets all around your body when he pulls and pulls and pulls- “Fuck, where’d you think you’re going, huh, honey?”

His tone was just dripping with something dark, something you can only sputter and drool to match when every nook and spongy cranny inside is being filled up with Geto’s fat cock.

And it twitches inside you happily - if heaven was real then it felt like this, Geto muses already thoroughly pussydrunk.

“M’m-not running away-” you’re pouting a slick-glossed pout up at him. One that he can’t help but crane his neck down in an instant to kiss away. “You’re just s-so big- bigger than on camera-”

Fuck.

You would’ve shut your babbling mouth sooner if you’d known what would happen.

Because the rotund edges of Geto’s cockhead only swells up wider, squirting out even thicker wads of his steamingly hot precum with every mindless, saturated grind. Ones just to fit in- more and more, even after he’s finding himself kissing a wet glide down the ends of your cervix. Making sure to brand that edge of his piercing onto every gooey wall.

“God- y’really know how to drive me c-crazy-” Geto’s dark hair curtains either side of your head, and you almost don’t notice the way he swipes up two hands underneath your thighs to press you into a mean mating press. Letting you latch on limply while he leaves to swat at one of your hands cupping your pussy, “N’ move that hand- fuck- m’gonna fuck that outta ya.”

And he does.

The mattress creaks in loud protests when he’s pummeling you with stupidly rude clashes of his weepy tip onto the edges of your g-spot - already expertly mapped out by him now - he’s feeling the sloshy mixture recoil with each thrust. So much of it. “Such a pretty pussy- such p-pretty moans, makes me wanna keep it t’myself-”

God, he’s wanted you for what seems like forever - and he was going to take it.

Panting hotly against your mouth, heavals. Drunk on your messy kisses and the way your pussy lips were bulging with the struggle to take him - but still milking him so needily. “Tie up my h-hair, honey, wanna see that pretty face of yours proper.”

All you can do is blink back the wall of tears that’d made its home in your eyes, trembly fingers taking ahold of Geto’s thin, black hair tie.

But you didn’t expect it to be so difficult.

Because any moment you were even slightly close to bunching up enough of his locks, he’s planting a thorough trail of kisses down your cervix. Before ending with the very showstopper - at your g-spot.

And one look up into Geto’s half-lidded eyes told you one thing…he was doing this on purpose.

Your legs knock-knee in an almost engulfing way around his heavily swallowing throat, muttering out in a tone that you probably thought was threatening - but that Geto found so cute. “I’m onto you, sir-”

Fuck.

Fuck, maybe you were threatening.

He didn’t expect that evil little nickname to slip past your lips - and you didn’t expect Geto to swipe up a devious thumb up your clit in retaliation. Pretty, puckering lips trailing up the valley of your breasts, “I have no idea what you oh- mean, Screen Queen.”

And despite how you were huffing and puffing, your pussy was so clingy all around him. Hips bumping up in slight bucks fully off of the bed in a pathetic attempt to match Geto’s sloppy cadence.

Completely starstruck at the sheer pressurized thrusts you were being ruthlessly dealt with - and you half-lucidly swear you could count stars over your head.

“Do it-” His lips kiss down your winking eyes, ringed fingers cold against your own now. “-do it, honey- you can do it. Might be the Screen Queen but you’re my slut, arentcha?”

God, it’s like his words were hypnotic - maybe they were.

And you dredge up every single bit of will in your trembly body to push past the way that he was absolutely ravaging you inside.

Pound after pound of his swollen cock, the chilling cold metal of his dick piercing helping you discover forbidden sweet spots inside you that you didn’t even realize existed.

So merciless that he’s slipping out a few inches by accident- only to let out a shuddering gasp, eyes shooting almost-comically wide open before sheathing his way in again. Even deeper - you’re being crushed with the weight of one of his knees pressing down on your body.

Over and over-

“Wanna- hah- wanna cum so badly-” your words prattle out delicately. Fingers searing across his scalp, and the way that you tug makes him hiss. It makes him rut, it makes him slam his hips down bruisingly. “Please-”

He leaves a slurping wet kiss on your neck - and another with his fingers onto the hood of your clit. Rolling over with the angled curve of his thumb. Obviously, having you drop a few tresses of his hair- “Heh, maybe t-tie my hair properly n’ I’ll let ya cum- you know s’a staple of my hngh- videos.”

So infuriating, it makes you clench.

That sleazy grin plastered across Geto’s face was unfairly sexy, and so was the way his body was wracking with sudden shivers. Boasting down every curve and muscle, forcing him to fall onto his elbows-

“Hngh- n’ you call me the rookie-” Your smug grin curves upwards at the way that Geto was so tangibly pussydrunk, the way his hips squelch sloppier into your own. The dripping wet noises so obscene that you could feel your cunt drenching even further with each emanating one.

“God, you’re in for it-” he’s spitting out a few slews of swears against your dangling open mouth. Pinching meanly at your clit. “You’re in- hah- you’re sooo in for it-”

But then Geto sees white - and so do you.

Whether from the crashing pleasure of your orgasm, or the way that he was suddenly pumping out thick ribbons of cum into your snugly filled cunt, you have no idea. And you don’t even have the rational brain capacity to even wonder right now.

Because Geto was fucking you through your high like he hated you, rutting up like an animal. And you were sure that if his canines were just a tinge sharper, they’d be drawing blood with how hard he was sinking them into the crook of your neck.

Only deeper, more feral, with every pump of his spazzing cock - gushing out in boatloads of syrupy cum. It thwacks! against the utterly bruised and battered wet surface of your cervix, before dripping down, down, down to your g-spot.

And there’s so much.

Such velvety volumes that ooze down in creamy dredges from the very purse of your pussy lips to form a milky ring around his ruddied base. It inflates your constricting walls from the inside - and yet, still not enough.

He presses one hand down to feel for that bump where you’d been filled to the brim. Sure to add more - to paint your dripping insides white until he was shooting blanks the same way he’d done to simply the thought of you. The idea makes him moan-

No, it makes him whimper.

“Still haven’t hngh f-finished tying my hair, honey.” Geto’s mouth leaves possessive marks down your neck. And his sensitive hips dart with a simple, sullying gyration, smiling, “Either you hngh finally do it properly like a good girl th-this time n’ we make a movie or- we go see one. This weekend. You and me. Your choice, Screen Queen.”

A/N. This got LONG but OHH PIERCED GETO MY BELOVED.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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