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"Do I have your consent to touch you?"

BABY YOU HAVE MY CONSENT TO DO THAT AND EVERYTHING YOU WANT WITH/TO ME

I shall grant thee a part 2 of Pride and Punishment.

Click here for Chapter 1.

Oh, there will be a part 3. Just not tonight.

Content Warning: Adult sexual themes 18+

Chapter 2

With a chuckle deep within her chest Larissa stood to her full height. Fire rep lips pulled into that alluring smile as you began to tremble. Was it fear or something far more sinister brewing within you? Without a word, she rounded the desk, her round hips swaying deliciously within her skin tight dress. Suddenly, you'd forgotten how to breathe. The very air within your chest ripped away the moment she stood mere inches from you.

"My eyes are up here, darling." She cooed, hooking a finger under your jaw to redirect your gaze. "If I may be rather forthright with you, I am attracted to you. This punishment will be of carnal nature and if you wish it not be so, please speak now."

"I-I." You stumble over your words, only to shake your head in agreement.

"Oh, no, a verbal response is warranted." She leaned down, ghosting her lips over your own. "Do you desire me as much as I desire you?"

"Y-yes."

"Do I have your consent to touch you?"

"Yes." You choke out as she presses the faintest kiss to your lips, only to rip them apart.

"Splendid." She said, striding to the silver platter to continue pouring the wine.

Wordlessly you watch as she moves the wine glasses to her desk, taking a seat on the chair to your left. Her long muscular legs cross one of the other, as she lands forward, offering you a glass. This was all part of the punishment, it had to be. Who knew someone as sweet and kind as Larissa could be so cruel and tempting. 

With a light tap she clinked her glass to your own, leaning back into the chair. As the wine passed her lips she moaned sinfully, head lulling back to reveal her elegant neck. Warmth pooled between your legs as you squeezed them together, fighting the moan that bubbled with you. Blue eyes locked onto you, flitting to your untouched wine.

"I have to say I'm rather flabbergasted that our attraction is mutual."

"I'm sorry but why?" You asked, astonished that anyone wouldn't find her attractive.

"Well, not only am I your superior but you've been short with me and avoidant as of late." She stated, taking another long sip of her wine. "I'm elated that our attraction is mutual. I've spent many sleepless nights moaning your name into the darkness."

"Fucking, hell." You say, taking a very long drink of liquid courage.

"Have you thought of me, love?" She asked, placing the glass onto the side table as she stood. "Have you touched yourself with my name tumbling from lustful bated breaths?"

"Yes, ever since our first meeting months ago."

"Oh, we are going to have a pleasurable evening together." She smirked, turning away from you. "Can you assist with removing this? I've grown rather feverish."

You stand, trembling hands following the curves of her hips to the top of the dress. Gliding the zipper along her spine, Larissa arched beneath your touch causing you to shutter. As the fabric pooled at her hips, her gripped your hands gliding them along her exposed lower stomach. Your fingers dip below her black lace panties but she pulled away, turning to face you. Eyes blown wide, plush bottom lip pulled between her teeth she shoves you back into the seat.

"You've yet to earn that, my dear." She said, pressing the dress from her hips and slipping from her heels.

Stunning. Absolutely, stunning. You could barely link together coherent thoughts let alone sentences as your eyes trailed her body. Endless, muscular legs led to divine round hips and perfect breasts comparable to the Greek Goddess Aphrodite herself. No surpassing her with an elegance that left you thanking whomever blessed this Earth with her presence.

"You may look but you may not touch until I implicitly advise." She said, bracketing your thighs with her own, moving your hands to the arms of the chair. "Am I understood?"

"Yes, mistress."

"Oh, how I love when you've called me that." She said as long lithe fingers trailed along her hip bones. "Tell me, how have you dreamt of me?"

"You were at your desk."

"Mhmm?" She hummed, dipping her hands below her panties. "And where were you?"

"Under it." You sputtered, eyes locking onto her fingers as they stoked over her wet center. "You were in a meeting and I was buried between your legs."

"Naughty little vixen." She moaned as her other hand teased over her lace covered nipples.

"You spread yourself for me as I guided your panties down your long legs."

"More, faster." She gasped your name, building the courage for you to expel every naughty detail of the fantasy.

"I sucked your clit between my lips as I slid a finger inside you."

"Yes, please don't stop." She begged, hips rolling to meet her diligent fingers.

"A-and you pulled my hair, pressing yourself against my mouth as I fucked you."

"Such a filthy little mouth." She smirked, unsnapping the clasp between her breasts, fingers finding her erect nipples.

"I teased you for half an hour, teetering you on the edge as your nails pressed into my scalp."

"More. I'm so close." She gasped, head thrown back chanting your name like a prayer.

"I pressed another finger into you, hooking them as you ended the meeting, thighs trembling around my face."

"Did you have me?" She asked, pressing a finger inside and slumping forward.

"I took you on the desk before you flipped me onto my stomach, fucking me until I couldn't speak."

"I shall do far more." She huffed, adding another finger and gripping your hair. "I will pull every sigh, every gasp, every moan from you."

"Please, Larissa. Please let me touch you." You beg, hands lifting from the chair.

"Oh, you shall have me. But not before I finish." She moaned, riding her fingers until she arched against them.

Your name had never sounded so angelic yet laced with sin as it fell from her lips. Her voice cracked as she shuttered against you, riding the waves of pure ecstasy. Fighting every flaming fiber, your hands remained on the chair, nails nearly ripping the ornate fabric. Larissa rested her forehead against your own, breasts just teasingly out of your lips reach. After a long, lustful moment she removed her fingers from within, skimming them along hour parted lips.

"You've done so well for me, darling. Do you believe you've earned a taste?" She teased, pressing her thumb into your mouth as a test.

"Yes, ma'am." You said, resisting the urge to close your mouth around her.

"And why haven't you done so?"

"May I?" You ask as she a devilish smirk spreads across her lips.

"No, I don't think you may." She said, plucking the digit from your mouth, choosing to run it along your sternum. "I do believe you're quite overdressed for this occasion."

"I'd be happy to remedy that, however, I'm a bit restrained." You nod to her trembling thighs, smirking at the blush now dusting her cheeks.

"Shall we do so together?" She asked, teasing the top button of your shirt. "Shall I destroy you?"

"Please."

I NEED HER TO MARRY ME

Standing Still

Brienne x Reader  - 313 words  -  Part 1 of 1

Warnings/Notes: None!

Summary: You can’t help causing some trouble, especially when Brienne smiles the way she does at you.

Keep reading

Protecting Brienne

Pairing: Brienne of Tarth x Reader

Word Count: 914

Warning: some swearing, that's all

My Christmas Present to all of you, love you!

A/n: So this is my first ever request, I really hope you liked it and that I did your idea justice!! It's a bit shorter than my usually stuff, I hope you don't mind. @pastanest

You were walking through the camp the soldiers had built just a few hours ago, talking to Brienne. You were always quite fond of her coming to these things, even though it also meant you'd be immensely scared for her whenever she went out to fight. You knew she was great at fighting, but maybe, someday there'd be someone better than her.

But you didn't want to think about that now. At the moment you just enjoyed talking to her and making her laugh. Considering she rarely laughs a real, deep laugh. But the chuckles and smiles you got out of her were enough for you to be happy. So when she stopped smiling and looked a little uneasy, you directly noticed and tried to find out what the reason for that was.

At first, you hadn't heard it, but after you had stopped talking you heard it very clearly. A few soldiers, standing in front of their tent, looked at you disgustedly and didn't even try to hide that they were talking shit about Brienne.

You directly walked towards them and even though they were much taller than you, nearly as tall as Brienne, you weren't scared of them and stood your ground.

"What did you just say?" You looked up at them with hatred in your eyes.

"I said, that this monster there," he pointed at Brienne, "shouldn't be allowed to fight with us. Not just that she's a woman, but she's a disgusting one as well." He looked at his friends and grinned stupidly, like he was proud of what he said, like it was the most innovative thing. Even though it was the most uncreative, stupid bullshit you had ever heard.

"I'm sorry?! That "monster" as you call her, has a name. Her name is Brienne, and I swear to the old and the new gods, if you say one more thing about her, you will not see the sun rise again. Ever. Is that clear?" He just laughed. You knew it was probably because you were a woman, and you were so much smaller, but you were fierce.

"You think that's funny?"

Brienne still stood a few steps behind you and just looked at you shocked, it was hard wrapping her head around the whole situation.

"(Y/n), I think that's enough. Let's go."

"Look, poor Brienne is scared. Yeah, let's go (Y/n)." the guy looked at you mockingly. But you didn't think of it as funny at all.

"Fuck you. Brienne is a better and truer knight and soldier than any of you could ever be. She is stronger, better, faster and definitely more fearless. I swear, if you don't stop laughing." You took a step forward and for a split second it actually looked like the guy flinched. You were ready to risk it all.

But in the same second that you back out to punch him, you feel strong hands grab your waist from behind and pick you up. Brienne had enough of this nonsense. She threw you over her shoulder and left.

"Let. Me. Down. Brienne!" You hit her on her back and kicked your feet wildly through the air, but nothing helped. She was strong and determined. The laughing in the background just made you even angrier.

She carried you into her tent and let you down inside. Knowing you fairly well, she knew you'd try to escape, so she blocked the entrance and held you back as you tried to run her down. Unsuccessfully. Of course.

"Why did you do that?" That's when you stopped your wild movements and unsuccessful attempts to escape. That was a stupid question. Why would you not defend her.

Still in rage you answered: "Because I love you, obviously, now if you'll just let me pass my fist has an important appointment with that fucker's jaw, and it cannot be missed...why do you look so confused?"

"What do you mean, you love me?"

"Well, I don't really know what's not to understand about that. I mean I put it quite simple, didn't I? I. Love. You. The only other way to say this would probably be that I'm in love with you. But that doesn't quite put it right, I feel like that makes it sound like I'm still a teenager that..." you couldn't go on, because you suddenly felt lips crash onto yours. Brienne easily picked you up, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around her neck and your legs around her torso. She moved away from the entrance and sat you down on her desk.

Against all your wishes you broke the kiss and looked at Brienne.

"You really didn't know, did you? I kind of assumed you knew and just wanted to take it slow. But considering what just happened I don't think you want to take it slow."

Brienne had to laugh at that, a shy, flustered laugh. But a real one. A true one.

"No, I didn't know. How would I? You never said anything? I don't just go around assuming people love me. I'm used to assuming the opposite." You smiled at her apologetic.

"Well, I thought it was quite obvious. I think you are just really oblivious. But I like that, just like I like the rest of you. All of it." You gently caressed her cheek and pulled her closer again. This kiss felt less passionate and less stormy but for sure neither less true nor real than the one before.

the rave'N invitation part has me holding back a scream because i literally sent an audio to a friend a few weeks ago telling her a scenario exactly like this one without subtracting or adding any details, just like this 😭😭

i love the larissa weems' simps community

Relationship Headcannons for Larissa Weems x Fem!Reader

WARNING: CONTAINS SMUT, GO AWAY MINORS

A/N: She didn't die in my mind, so, yeah, enjoy!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

- You met Larissa during Outreach day

- She walked into the cafe you worked at, after replacing Tyler Galpin and you couldn't help but do a double take

- She immediately took your breath away

- Same thing goes for her

- She fell for you, the moment her eyes met yours

- "I'm assuming you're new here"

- "Yes, actually! I just moved here a couple weeks ago"

- And from that moment on, she’d visit the café every day for her lunch breaks

- You catch onto the pattern and decided to take on extra days just to see her *ahem, simp*

- Her usual order of coffee and a buttered croissant was now suddenly accompanied by a little piece of chocolate you'd sneak in from the inventory

- As each day passed, the two of you only grew closer

- A month later, she finally plucked up the courage to ask you out

- It was during your night shift and she came straight from work, as you were closing up

- While you were wiping down the counters and putting everything back to use for the next day, you hear a knock on the window

- You look up and see her beautiful face on the other side of the glass

- A smile immediately replacing the tired look you had from hours of waiting on tables

- You walk over and unlock the door

- "Larissa, I'm sorry, the cook just left. If I had known you'd stop by-"

- "Oh, not to worry! I actually just came to ask you something"

- You nod, awaiting what she had to say

- She takes your hand and clears her throat

- "The Rave'N dance is coming up this Saturday and being the principle, I'm required to chaperone, so...I was wondering if you would like to go with me?"

- You felt your heart melt at her shyness

- "Larissa Weems, are you asking me out on a date?"

- She softly laugh to herself

- "I suppose I am'

- You, of course, said yes

- The big night came and the both of you had agreed to meet there

- The look of pure admiration on her face when you walked in with your full ensemble will forever replay in your mind

- When the first slow song of the night played, you take her hand

- "Care to dance?"

- The two of you spent the night, holding each other close and swaying to the music

- Which obviously had all the students and staff staring in awe

- When the event came to an end, she escorted you to your car

- "I had a wonderful time, Larissa, thank you"

- "As did I"

- A slight pause occurs

- You both just stared into each other's eyes for a moment

- It was as if you were the only people to exist

- The soft chirps of crickets and the moon shining bright against the dark sky creating a soft ambience

- Her hand cups your cheek, as she took a step closer

- And that was the night of the first kiss you two had ever shared

- It didn't take long after that for her to officially ask you to be her girlfriend

- She is TALL, so she thinks it’s adorable when you ask her for help when getting something off the top shelves

- TOP TIER CUDDLES

- She loves being the little spoon </3

- In her work life and in public, she usually takes on the dominant role, but don't let that fool you, she's a huge teddy bear...literally

- She is incredibly protective of you

- She always needs to have her arm around your waist or have her hand on your knee

- Just so everyone knows to back the hell off😇

- She’s not the biggest fan of public displays of affection, but she does love a cute little hand hold or the occasional kiss on the cheek

- Whenever you guys are talking, she always traces her fingers up and down your hands (Screaming, crying, throwing up, blushing, giggling and kicking my feet)

- You always wake up a little early to help style her hair

- Which is just an excuse for you to run your fingers through her hair

- “Have you seen my-”

- *You hold out her scarf*

- “Oh, you are a god-sent”

- Always delivering her lunch to her office

- Countless pictures of her in your phone

- "Must you always be taking pictures of me?"

- "Yes, because you are the only person in the entire world who always looks good doing anything"

- As much as she tries to deny it, she loves the attention

- Knowing how she was and what she'd gone through in the past, you definitely said 'I love you' first

- It happened the night you first slept together, while basking in the afterglow

- "I love you"

- "...Pardon?"

- "I said", as you picked up her hand and kissed the back of it

- "I love you"

- It took her minute to let what you just said sink in, but once it did, she had the giddiest smile on her face

- She lets out a soft chuckle and attacks your face with kisses

- "I love you too, darling"

- Nicknames include: Love, Lover, My Love, Darling, Sweetheart

- Absolutely adores kissing the top of your head

- Competitive chess matches

- Having to sit in her lap while doing her makeup

- She says it's so you can get a better look, but we both know that's not true

- Always having to wake her up and help her to bed, when she falls asleep at her desk

- The poor woman over works herself, so you make an effort to help her relax (Shoulder rubs, making her some tea, stealing kisses while she works, head)

- Her insisting on you wearing her coats and scarfs cause she knows you get cold easily

- (And also to subtly let everyone know you’re spoken for)

- Accompanying her to every event and her laughing at you, whenever you glare at someone for staring at her too long

- “Darling, you can’t death-stare everyone who looks at me”

- “Want a bet?”

- Likes to randomly feed you some of her food

- She just gives off cat lady vibes, so, you get her a little kitten for her birthday

- Which results in her turning into a sobbing mess over how cute it was :,)

- Expect her to smooth down and fix your clothes while you're out

- It's basically a part of her love language

- SPEAKING OF LOVE LANGUAGES

- Hers is definitely a mix of Physical Touch and Words of Affirmation

- So, trust me, wrapping your arms around her waist and calling her beautiful never goes unnoticed

- Steam pressing her clothes and having it prepared for her to wear the next day

- Getting incredibly flustered whenever she looks down at you

- Her eyes always lighting up every time she sees your name pop up on her phone

- Sometimes, she doesn’t feel beautiful, so you do everything in your power to remind her

- Especially during sex

- Do I even need to mention how good she would be in bed?

- Worship kink! Worship kink! Workship kink! (Receiving and giving, duh)

- She’s a busy woman, so a quickie in the morning before she heads to work is always appreciated

- But when she does have a day off? Oh, prepare yourself

- Cause she won’t stop till you’re walking funny

- You often wonder how someone so professional and so composed could be so feral and wild

- She can be gentle and make love to you, but the rougher side of sex always hits different

- She’s a switch, but loves watching you squirm underneath her

- “Look at how perfect you are”

- Praise kink? Praise kink

- She is no stranger to toys and straps

- Giving each other hickeys and bite marks you'll both have to hide at work

- Aftercare game on POINT

- As much as she loves to ruin you, she always making sure her precious baby is okay 🥹

- Baths together>>>

- Being the principle of Nevermore can be stressful, so, don’t be surprised when she takes it out on you in the bedroom

- You get embarrassingly loud during sex and try to quiet yourself down, which she is not a fan off

- When she catches you doing it, she will yank at your hair and press her lips into your neck

- "Don't try to hide those pretty little noises from me. You know I'll make them come out sooner or later"

A/N: I got so blushy with this

my sweet baby 😭😭😭

so i was thinking about new years and loved the idea of larissa and r being each others new years kiss.

like the two of them are in an urgent meeting discussing something that had gone down with some students before christmas break, them needing to get some reports done and filed. them sipping some champagne, just for festivities. the meeting going on so long they lost track of time, only a few minutes left before midnight, realizing this one of them takes the leap and asks the other to be their new years kiss, and linger on each other’s lips longer than they should

New Years Kiss

Larissa Weems x Reader

“I can’t believe their end of semester prank was to reshuffle the entire filing room…” You sit back against the wall and lean you head back, banging your head gently against the wall to make your frustration known. Scattered around you were the files of the hundreds of Nevermore students, all needed to be put back into place.

Larissa Weems sat next to you, resorting through her file of papers, obviously frustrated with the task at hand. Students had been sent home a week ago and today, December 31st, you informed your boss that the entire hardcopy filing system has been shuffled about. Now all of student and staff information was in the correct place. Both of you had to cancel New Years plans to sit in a small back room of Nevermore Academy until it was fixed.

You kept sorting. Every once in a while you would exchange sheets of paper. You were reorganizing students and she started with reorganizing staff.

Larissa checked her watch, “I’ll be right back.”

You watched her get up and leave, but you turn your head back down to the filing job at hand. You saw Larissa Weems as an incredibly beautiful woman, but you had never expected more than friendship from her. When she returned, she was carrying a small bottle of champagne and paper cups.

“It’s almost midnight. We have officially been here for 8 hours.” She handed you a paper cup, and opened the champagne over a small garbage can in case it overflowed, “I kept this little guy in my desk for emergencies.”

Truthfully, you had only been working a couple of those hours. When you were together, sometimes your conversations would veer off into philosophy, politics, or educational dilemmas.

“We should have started drinking when we started.” You stated, holding your cup still for her to fill yours and then her own. You held your cup up to her as she stood above you, “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” She tapped her cup against yours, throwing hers back like a shot. Larissa took a seat back down by you. For the next few minutes, you took turns refilling each others cups and drinking.

11:58

“No New Years kiss this year.” You lean into Larissa’s shoulder, enjoying the light tingle in your skull from the alcohol.

“Who said no New Years kiss? You can kiss me.” Larissa questioned and stated, making your eyes widen. You wouldn’t object to kissing her, this was just unexpected.

11:59

“Okay. I mean, yeah sure. I-“ You were a little nervous at your automatic response, you didn’t want to seem overzealous, but you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to kiss her.

Larissa glanced down at her phone, your eyes glanced down at the time, 11:59. Do you kiss now or-?

She leaned in first. You wondered how she was so fearless or were you just too fearful? You met her halfway, pressing your lips to hers.

You hadn’t been this close to her before. She smelled so nice. Larissa brought up a hand to your cheek. Her hands were soft too. You reached a hand out, grasping at the fabric of her jacket to keep her close.

Her mouth opened a little, you felt her tongue graze your bottom lip. You deepen the kiss a little more. It was when Larissa placed a hand on your leg that you both part slowly.

12:02

She glances down at her phone again. Its 12:02. Had your kiss really been that long? Larissa picks back up the champagne bottle, drinking some before handing the bottle to you, giving you what was left.

Larissa’s face was flush. She was embarrassed by how she behaved during your kiss. You saw the redness in her face as she pretended to busy herself with the paperwork once more.

“Thank you for that…” You say, trying not to embarrass her too much more. You turn back to your paperwork at hand.

Both of you sat much closer together now, your thighs touching. You wondered what your relationship would look like from here on out.

one of my greatest fears is becoming a mother, but if it's with her, i wouldn't hesitate, not even for a second to carry her child in my womb

First Fic! Larissa Weems x pregnant reader

A/N: Hi there! This is my first ever fic and I cannot wait to share my writing! I know it isn’t the best but as a beginner I wanted to try it out. I wrote some Larissa Weems x pregnant reader fluff since I could not find any and I hope that you enjoy <3 Many many thanks and love to @booitsrue​ and @non-binary-frogking​ for helping me edit! 

Larissa Weems x Pregnant Reader

Summary: Larissa comes home after a long day to a pregnant reader and soft fluff ensues!

Warnings: brief nsfw (no smut), fluffiest fluff, pregnancy

Larissa trudged through the front door, finally home from Nevermore; Exhaustion plastered on her face. A new school year has just begun, leaving Larissa stressed with seemingly nonstop orientations and parent conferences. She let out a deep sigh and placed her work materials on the table gently, heels kicked off towards the door shortly after. Making her way to your shared bedroom, she reminisced about you.

Although she always thought of you throughout the day, today she especially missed you. Those soft eyes that gazed at her half-lidded in lovestruck awe, those adorable pillowy pink lips that she could never pull away from, your soft warm skin that she clung to each night and ran her fingertips over. She craved to hear your laugh that never failed to make her smile, your rambling about your hobbies and favorite things, your sleepy morning voice that makes her heart melt and her body warm. You were her sweet angel and from the day she met you, she vowed to love and cherish you like you were the most precious thing on earth. And to her, you were.

—————

As Larissa strode through the bedroom door, she saw you; and her smile grew instantly. There you were, half asleep, and reading a book that she had just bought for you… with your hand resting on the swell of your belly. She still couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have you, her perfect wife, and the soon-to-be mother of her child. Her giddiness got the best of her and she laughed to herself. Your arm holding the book lowers once you hear Larissa, placing the book onto the nightstand. 

“What’s so funny my love? I really missed you today- and thank you for the book! I’m enjoying it quite a bit so far.”

Larissa stepped around the bed to you and leaned down, placing a gentle kiss upon your lips and smiling into it. Once you break apart she explained the reason for her giggles. 

“You just look so precious, my darling. I can’t help but feel so incredibly happy seeing my adorable, pregnant wife.”

At this, your cheeks spread with a rosy blush, and you lowered your head to hide how bashful her words made you. Larissa finds your flustered state rather endearing, overjoyed that she can make you so soft with just her words. She reaches out with her hand and delicately traces your jawline from your ear to your chin.

“None of that sweetheart, let me see those gorgeous cheeks that I just love to make rosy.” 

She tilted your head up with her finger, peering into those eyes that she daydreamed about for hours. 

“You are so beautiful my dear, thank you again for carrying our child. You are practically glowing, pregnancy fits you quite well. I am so blessed and thankful for you my love.”

Your heart melts as you are overcome with love, so much so that you reach up and hold her cheek in your palm; pulling her into another loving kiss. Larissa moans softly into it, reaching down to place a warm hand on your pregnant stomach. She pulls away and kneels down next to your belly, now having grown massive with only weeks away from your due date. She looks from your belly to your face, watching as you grin down at her.

“Do you mind if I lift your shirt love? I want to give our little angel some kisses if that’s alright, but I wouldn’t want your tummy to be cold.” 

You’ve always appreciated the thoughtfulness and care your wife held for you. Larissa may be tall and look intimidating in those heels and professional outfits she wears for work, but deep down she is the most caring and tender woman you’ve ever met.

Her eyes locked onto your face looking for approval, a smile forming when you respond.

“Of course Rissa, please tell her that she needs to stop kicking her poor mama-“ you chuckle lightly “and that if she doesn’t behave, no more stuffies in the nursery!”

Larissa fakes a gasp and turns her head to talk to the growing bundle of joy in your belly.

“Little one, I can’t believe you’ve been so rude to your mother!” she playfully jokes.

She lifts your shirt until it sits just below your breasts and brings her head down to graze the swell of your belly. With a low hum, she whispers into your bump. “Don’t worry my baby girl, I wouldn’t dare deprive you of stuffies; you’ll be too cute to resist.”

Although her whisper was low and hushed, it was still loud enough for you to catch what she was saying. 

“Hey! I heard that Rissa. But I have to agree, she’ll be too cute not to spoil.”

“Speaking of spoiling, how about I hold you until you fall asleep? And maybe rub that cute belly of yours?” 

“Yes please Rissa, come here I miss you” 

“So needy are we? I’m right here darling I’ve got you, let me just put on my pajamas.”

Larissa quickly recovers your belly with your shirt and makes her way to the closet. While she starts to undress, you can’t help but stare at her stunning figure. Pregnancy has made you hormonal and emotional, along with a yearning for your wife’s body constantly. 

Too tired to further your desires tonight, you settled for watching her unclip the black lace-patterned bra that held her cleavage. Her soft breasts come to a rest as she tosses the fabric into the hamper. Next to go are her dress pants and that secret thong that only you know she enjoys wearing under it all. She keeps her back towards you and bends while tugging her panties down her smooth pale legs, so long and soft. Your eyes are then glued to her backside in lust and you catch yourself almost drooling at the sight. Only when she turns to you and winks do you stop looking, reddening but not daring to remove your eyes from her. You see the small patch of hair between her legs and can’t help but clench your thighs together. She lifts one leg and then the next, putting on some fleece pants that she knows you love on her. Little does she know, it really accentuates her ass and you go feral when she wears them. Once her shirt is on and she finishes her bathroom routine, she joins you in bed.

—————

She slips in next to you and immediately covers your body with the plush sheets. She places the blankets over you both to the best of her ability since your bump makes it hard to cover you completely. All the while, you are just keeping your eyes on her and feeling so loved, safe, and warm.

“Okay my dove, time for me to hold you. Come here, pretty girl.”

Her voice is quiet and affectionate, making you so comfortable that you feel sleepy. You shift your body towards hers and turn so that your belly presses slightly over and against her side, and your head is lying on her chest. One of your legs extends over hers and your arm wraps around her waist. She coos at you lovingly and brings one arm around to support your back and the other holds your baby, giving large circular rubs with a delicate hand. She places a kiss on the top of your head and begins to whisper down to you.

“My two angels, I promise to take care of you both and to love you forever. My sweet wife, you are truly my soulmate. I cannot wait to raise our beautiful baby girl with you. Rest now my darlings, time for you to sleep.”

Your eyes grew heavy as the warmth of her body and her words lured you into a state of security and comfort that only she brings. 

“I love you so much Rissa, you are my everything.”

“I love you too dove, sweet dreams.”

i felt the christmas spirit in my whole body while reading this in the middle of march and i can't mdkfkwxlsjdk

✨️❤️ Santa, Baby❤️✨️

✨️ Part 4 ✨️

✨️mistletoe missin' you✨️

❗️ 18+ MINORS DNI X MATURE CONTENT ❗️

Part 1

Summary:  You warned him about your naughty list, but he didn't believe you.

A/N: I got in my own emotions with this one a little bit. As always, there are Violent Night spoilers so if you've not seen yet, nows the time! It's Christmas eve! Anyway, thank you for reading and enjoying. It's a lil longer than usual 💋 ❤️ Merry Christmas.

Pairing: Bimbo!reader x (kinda) Romantic!Santa

Cw:  size kink ✨️ age gap ✨️ oral f rec ✨️ fingering ✨️ Dom & sub dynamic w a twist ✨️ some romancing ✨️ multiple orgasms ✨️ rough sex ✨️ praise kink ✨️ violent night spoilers ✨️ dumbification ✨️body worship✨️roleplay ✨️ mischievous use of a Mistletoe ✨️ p I v unprotected ✨️ cream pie ✨️ fluff ehe ✨️

❤️🎄❤️🎄❤️🎄❤️🎄❤️🎄❤️🎄❤️🎄❤️🎄❤️

You stood on black stiletto boots as you reached up in the doorway seperating your kitchen and living room, trying your damnest to pin the mistletoe above your head as Mariah Carrey's 'When Christmas comes' played. Your body adorned in the classic Mrs. Claus babydoll lingerie you were gifted last Christmas from the man himself.

You huffed, giving up and not wanting to pull your shoes off to stand on a chair to do it. Instead you made your way to the blanket and pillow nest you prepared near the fireplace, placing it next to the freshly baked plate of cookies and array of booze. You noted that everytime Santa came, he smelled of whatever alcohol he had been drinking that night so you thought you'd pull out your best liquors for him; red wine for you.

Last year, you weren't sure he'd show or if you were out of your damn mind, but this year you knew. You were prepared. You figured he'd show up 2 hours before Christmas just as he did the past two Christmas eves, but you were ready far before that.

You clicked on the TV, allowing it to silently play with closed captions as you poured yourself a glass of red wine, downing it quickly to fend off the flutters of anticipation in your stomach. You turned your head to watch the movie as you did.

A small "hm, hmm, hmm.." hummed against your closed red lips as you laughed, watching Scott freak out over the white beard that kept growing back in The Santa Claus despite him constantly shaving it. "So silly." You giggled before you reached over to eat one of the cookies, unable to help yourself.

You were interrupted from your movie and snack when you heard an ornament fall from the Christmas tree, bouncing against the wooden floor. You sighed and rolled your eyes, not realizing what had caused it to fall due to the Christmas music. You reached under the tree, grabbing the silver ball and standing to place it toward the top of the tree like it had been previously. You stretched your arms, the lace of your babydoll dress slipping up over the curve of your ass as you kicked your leg out for balance.

You felt a warm rush come from the fireplace. You turned your head over your shoulder, a sweet, knowing smile on your face as the flames and glitter faded and his large body appeared from the midst of it. He fixed his hat and focused his eyes on you, a matching smile directed back at you as he drank your image in like a glass of milk. "Well.." he hummed, blue eyes running up and down your body. "Merry Christmas to me."

"You're early." You purred before putting your attention back to the ornament, attempting to hook the metal onto the upper branch but dealing with the same issue from the mistletoe.

He stepped behind you, took the ornament from your hands and placed it on the branch with ease. His hands instantly went to your hips and he turned you around so he could get a better view.

"Elves been working hard." He hummed, his thumbs circling your hip bone as his eyes constantly dipped to your outfit then face. Eyes soft, eager and waiting. "You look beautiful."

"You like?" A blush that matched the red dress now creeping over your cheeks as his gaze felt like it was melting you. "You don't think it's like... too cliche?"

He shook his head, fingers toying with the loose fabric at your hip. He couldn't tear his gaze away, like he'd never seen something so mesmorizing in his long life.

You placed a finger into his beard, searching for his jaw and pushing his face up with a confident smile.

"I know I didn't get a chance to sweep yet but you don't need to do it for me." You giggled softly, fingers dancing in the silver. "Jaw off the floor." You winked playfully before wriggling from his grasp and walking toward the blanket nest.

"All this, for me?" His attention finally tore from you and what was now surrounding you as you descended into the heap of comfort.

"Yeah," you grabbed your glass of wine as you crossed your legs, Santa's eyes once again not able able to tear away with each of your swift movements. "Wanted tonight to be special."

He sat down near you with a groan as he bent his knees, his large frame dwarfing you as he leaned against a pillow and looked at all the liquor you set out then back at you.

The look in his eye was different than every other time you'd been together. There was twinkle in his eye and hidden behind that, intense longing. Not the lust filled gaze he'd usually shoot your way. There was something else intermingling with and you couldn't put your finger on it.

"Any time with you's special, sugar." He reached over to place a large palm on your thigh, unable to keep his hands away.

"Look at him, using his words." You quoted him with a wink before leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose, only giving him a small hint of what the night lay ahead. You gestured your hand toward the array of liquor your cabinet had to offer before reaching over and handing him a glass. "I'm not really sure what your drink of choice besides milk, so... I pulled everything out."

He chuckled rhythmicly, the iconic laugh always flooding you with warmth anytime it echoed from his stomach.

"Beer works just fine." He stroked his thumb over your thigh, still gazing up at you as the fire illuminated his profile. 

"Hm, hmm, hmmm..." You giggled with your lips pressed together, rolling your eyes. "Figures. Only thing I didn't grab."

You stood up, not noticing his quick micro expression of shock as you made your way to the fridge. You snapped off one of the cooled six pack of Schlitz beer then returning to Santa and handing it to him.  He popped open the tab and took a sip as his now ungloved hand returned against your thigh, just needing to touch you. Feel you.

"Do you like?"

"Yeah." He squeezed your thigh, licking his mustache of any left over beer. "Oh, you meant the beer? Yeah, that too." He winked wolfishly, leaning toward you more.

"Hasn't even been ten minutes and you're already being naughty." Your eyes pointed at him through long lashes.

"Can't help it, sugar." He snaked his hand up slowly, fingertips guiding along your soft, suple skin as he went to reach under your lingerie's skirt.

"And that's exactly why you're on the naughty list." You swiped his hand away before stretching your leg over his large hips, sitting atop him as he leaned back against the pillow.

"Am I?" Amused, he played along as his hands returned to your hips, gazing up at you with a curl in his lips.

"Yep." You nodded confidently, taking another sip of your wine before setting it down. "Right at the top. 'Jolly ol' Saint Nicholas'. That's what it says."

"Don't believe you."

"You do--you don't believe me?" You put your hand over your heart, a faint, theatrical gasp as you pretended to feel his words before getting up off his lap and heading towards the sofa.

"Where you goin', sugar?" He called, adjusting himself as he watched your ass from under the skirt.

"That's not my name." You waved your hand in the air dismissively then reached behind the couch, pulling out a rolled up peice of printer paper.

"Huh," he sat up with a grunt, eyes narrowed at the paper then at you. "What's your name?"

"You know my name. You're Santa Claus." You sat down at the edge of the couch, knees pressed together as you tapped the rolled paper against your thigh.

"Yeah?" He raised his brows, mouth slightly agape. "Santa magic's a bit dry right now... wanna remind me?" His voice growing to that husky tone you loved.

"You don't recognize me?" You purred curiously, now smacking the paper against your palm.

"Long year of toymaking... mind's a bit hazy." He gruffed as he went to push off his knee to crawl toward you, his eyes piercing through you. "S'your name again?"

The sound of your boot against the leather jacket on his shoulder squeaked, stopping him from crawling any further and giving him a beautiful upskirt view of your red thong. He gulped, pausing.

"Mrs. Claus."

His eyes fluttered momentarily and you swore you heard the faintest of whimpers die in the back of his throat, his powerful shoulders slouching under your boot.

"What's'a matter? Reindeer got your tongue?" You pulled your boot back, trailing your heel delicately down the fur in the front of his jacket as you reveled in the look playing behind his eyes.

"Sorry, Mrs. C... I, shit. Didn't recognize y'for a moment there." He stammered as his eyes followed your boot before looking back up at you, pupils blown.

"Most people don't, they never portray me right." You rolled your eyes as you twirled the rolled up paper around a strand of your hair. "But I'd expect better from you, Mr. Claus. Don't you have a type?"

He licked his lips then bit his lower lip with a furrowed brow as he peaked up your skirt once more, fingers gripping the wooden floor under his grasp as he searched for his composure.

"Forgive me, Mrs. Claus?" He reached a hand up your calf, inching toward his goal once more with a hopeful look in his eye.

"Naughty." You slapped his hand away with the rolled up paper and he retracted immediately. "Naughty boys don't get their presents." You crossed your legs, closing his entry as you looked down at him from your nose. "And you've been very, very naughty."

"Where's your proof?" He sat up on his haunches to unbutton his heavy coat and disrcard it in the blanket heap.

"Funny you should ask." You removed your hat and reached for his, putting it on your head instead and sitting up confidently as you unraveled the paper. "Oh my.." You eyed the words for a moment.

"What's it say?" He questioned, inching forward. You stopped him with your boot once more, pressed into his chest.

"That you've been a very, very bad boy."

Another deep gulp from your words.

"Fucking random women in alley ways, using your Santa magic to peek in on ladies, ooh..." You leaned your gaze in, narrowing your eyes at the paper. "Did you really touch yourself when doing that?" You peaked over your makeshift scroll to glance down at him then at his hard on straining against his pants.

He shook his head no, hands wringing against his sides as he fought with the urge to touch you.

"Do you wanna add lying to the list, Mr. Claus?" You tapped the tip of your boot against his chest as a warning. "One more chance to get back on the nice list or else no present." You spread your legs briefly to give him a glimpse before removing your heel from his chest, crossing your legs once more. An unspoken threat he understood.

"You wouldn't." He called your bluff.

"What's another year?" You mused at him with a smirk on your red lips.

He huffed through his nostrils as he realized you weren't bluffing, his fists now balling.

"What does Mrs. Claus do to," he clenched his jaw before proceeding, "to naughty boys?"

"Whatever she wants." You leaned your elbow on your knee as you leveled with him, his eyes never leaving your face as you gazed over his. You reached forward, pulling his long silver hair from the lowbun that lived at the nape of his neck while simultaneously removing his glasses and placing them on the table.

You pushed a stray silver curl out of his face as he bit down on his lower lip, fighting the urge to grab your wrists and take control.

"What does Mrs. Claus want?" He uttered, loving the way the name fell off his tongue a little too much. Repeating it whenever he got the chance.

"Take this off." You pulled at one of the buckles on the leather vest. "And grab the mistletoe while you're at it." You winked before sitting straight again, watching as you bounced your heel impatiently.

It was almost comedic how fast he fumbled with the vest and white shirt, immediately discarding them with his jacket. You hummed in delight at the sight of him, his broad, tattooed chest rising and falling as his hair lay against his shoulders and a starving look twinkled in his eyes. He grabbed the mistletoe that laid near the cookies, handing it to you.

"You know what mistletoes are used for, right?" You teased, grabbing the dried herbs from him and waving it in front of him.

He bit back a sarcastic comment and nodded.

"Good." You placed the mistletoe at your knee, looking at him with a raised brow.

It only took him a moment to realize what you were asking before he lunged forward, hooking his large hand behind your knee as he pressed a soft, eager kiss to your knee cap.

"Good boy." You purred which caused his grip to tighten on the hook of your leg, his dick visibly straining and twitching against his pants from the praise. "Ooh, you like being called a good boy?" You tilted your head and he looked up at you, the starvation only growing as he wordlessly nodded. "I need to hear your sweet words." 

"More than I should." He grunted, an edge to his voice as his eyes darted back to the mistletoe as you began to glide down your leg and to the top of your boot. He was quick to follow it, kissing every spot the leaves touched as he made it to the end point while he lifted your leg.

You took the opportunity to hook your leg on his shoulder and his eyes reconnected with your red laced center, lips pressed to your skin. A weak flash in his eyes as he gripped tightly, a grunt against you when he saw the gleam of your slick glow against the Christmas lights.

You slid the mistletoe back up your leg to your inner thigh. His lips followed suit as his beard tickled your skin with each gentle press. His breathing was getting hotter against your skin as he kept his eyes locked on green bundle, waiting to see where you'd lead it.

You slid the mistletoe up your side, allowing it to get caught on your skirt as you did so. His hand quickly pushed the dress the rest of the way up, bunched in his fist as he crawled up from between your legs, wet, scratchy lips gliding along the trail. You had to bite the corner of your lip to keep a giggle from escaping as his beard continued to tickle your side.

The mistletoe reached the top of your breast, the exposed skin not hidden under the lacy fabric getting tender affection from his mouth instantly. You used your other hand to pull the red straps down your arms, allowing him access to your hardened nipples. His mouth immediately latched onto one while his hand reached to grasp the other. You quickly swatted it away with the rolled up paper.

"Naughty." You panted faintly. "Mouth only."

He grumbled against your chest about 'that damn naughty list' before swirling his tongue around your nipple then sucking it back into his mouth, emitting a gasp from you. His tongue lapped as he simultaneously sucked, shooting the pleasure straight to your cunt. You lead the mistletoe to your neglected nipple and he followed, repeating what he had the other. His fists balled at your hips, trying his damn best to be good.

He pulled back from the now kiss swollen bud and speckled light kisses around your areola before he followed the mistletoe trail back down to your inner thigh, eagerly, taking soft nips with his teeth every other kiss. You hooked your heels behind his muscular back as he stared at the mistletoe, waiting. Eyes dark and hungry.

"Does Mr. Claus want his cookie?" You cooed, dancing the mistletoe centimeters from your center as you spread your thighs for him. He inhaled deeply, his brows furrowed as he pursed his lips tightly together. You could tell the teasing was getting to be too much, but at this point you wanted to see how far you could push it. Which wasn't far at all.

It only took a few more seconds of taunting before he grabbed the dried bundle and tossed it.

"Y'know what..." He gruffed, the dark hunger in his eyes finally winning and enveloping his body as he grabbed tightly on your thighs, keeping them apart for him. "I make the damn lists."

Your words of interjection quickly replaced with a whine as you felt his lips crash against your center. He licked, sucked and lapped desperately at your sensitive clit through the lace, grunting to himself. His fingertips bruised into your thighs as he lapped, impatient to even pull the soaked fabric aside as he enjoyed the taste of you soaked into them. Your back arched instantly, falling back into the couch as your a hand reached to curl fingers into his long hair, knotting your knuckles.

He pulled back only for a moment, pulling your panties down your legs and tossing them atop of his discarded clothing before quickly reconnecting his mouth to your cunt and sucking your clit between his lips. He groaned against you, sending deep vibrations through your center and those ever so familiar tingles made their way from your toes to your fingertips and scalp.

You pressed your thighs into the scratch of his cheeks, panting as you felt the release you'd been waiting for the past year build in your tummy. You peeked down between your legs only to find his eyes already staring back at you, a permanent snarl in his nose as he lapped and sucked with waiting eyes. Your fingers tangled tighter into his hair, unable to stop the grinding of your hips as you held eye contact; soft whimpers and pleas dying on your lips.

Calloused fingertips teased against your entrance, collecting your sweetness before pushing two thick fingers into you and forcing a yelp from between your lips. He tried so hard to go slow at first, soaking in just how tight your unused cunt had gotten around his fingers since the last he felt it, but your whines and how your skin glowed against the warm fireplace while the Mrs. Claus dress laid bunched on your waist caused a burning need to force an orgasm out of you.

Neither of you broke eye contact besides your momentarily flutters from the intense pleasure. You loved the way he looked between your legs, determined to get what he wanted and desperate for it. He loved the way your cheeks flushed and lips pursed together, barely audible whines of his name falling from them that only encouraged his speed. Only made him need more.

The pads of his fingertips reached up into you, searching for that spot as his tongue never relented. Constant groans of his own vibrating against you as he watched your body unravel around him, your cunt pulsing on his fingers with each jolt of pleasure that erupted from your tummy and all over his beard and hand.

"Fuck," he ran his tongue flat along your lips as he pushed himself back up, leaving a soft kiss on your pelvis as he did. Eyes blown as he stood up above you, grabbing at the useless bunched up dress around your waist, tugging it off and tossing it just as he did the mistletoe. Carelessly. "Missed your taste."

He quickly kicked off his boots and removed his pants, grasping large fingers around the shaft of his cock as he gazed down at you with glossed over eyes, a look you'd never seen before.

Usually always in control of the situation, cool, as he took you where he wanted you but tonight something firey stirred behind his eyes and he couldn't wait anymore.

The removal of his entire outfit and his hair messily laying on his shoulders made you realize he was a man. A man with magic, but just a man.

You didn't see the fabled jolly old Saint Nick in front of you, and you didn't see Kris Kringle spreading your thighs into the couch as he leaned over and caged you in with long arms. It wasn't father Christmas who pushed your hair back so he could look at your pretty face when he slid the swollen head of his cock between your sopping lips, a soft groan leaving his lips as he saw your mouth contort in bliss with each brush of your clit.

No.

You widdled him back down to the man he was before the magic. A man who was no exception to human desire and emotions. A man you'd grown attached to, a man you looked forward to every Christmas eve. A man who needed you just as badly as you needed him.

No amount of magic would change that.

"Missed you." He gazed down at you with soft eyes, his profile warm and glowing against the fire as he tentatively watched each facial expression you made. A small smile curled at his beard when your body tensed and relaxed all at the same time, your hips urging closer to him as you silently begged for him.

"Don't want a silent night, sugar. Need t'hear you." He brushed his weeping tip against your slit, using what little restraint he had left to urge your sweet words out. He loved hearing you. He loved having your words replay in his head on nights he felt the loneliest, missing you.

"Please, Santa." You wrapped your arms around his neck, attempting to pull him in closer as his warm skin radiated against your body with each deep breath he took. "M-Missed you so much." Another pitiful buck of your hips. "Need you so bad." Your eyes big, begging and projecting that same look he gave you back.

Longing.

"Told you," he grasped your hair in a gentle knot to brace himself as he urged his hips forward, peeking down to watch the reddened tip of his cock slowly dissapear into the softness of your pussy. "You've been a good girl." He rasped as he peppered more delicate kisses along your cheek bone, his beard tickling in their wake. His words rung sweet as candy in your ears while he sunk completely into you with a soft grunt. "And good girls get their presents."

You tried to form sentences but nothing Christmas-y clever or witty came to mind as you took him completely.  Instead, you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, his peppermint scent filling your senses as you whimpered and whined against his flushed skin. Your thighs hugged tightly around his large hips as you adjusted to his girth. He braced an arm around your lower waist, forcing your hips closer to his and you gasped against his neck; feeling beautifully full. He stood there for a moment, enjoying the desperate grasp your cunt had around him with a furrowed brow, committing it to his vast memory.

"Y'take me s'good, sugar." He whispered into your hair, his words of tender praise only caused you to flutter around him as your boots pressed into his back, trying to force him to move. To give you what you've been needing for the past two years since he met you at the bar.

"Please.." you whined before latching your lips onto the pulse of his neck, breathy whimpers echoing against him as your tongue swirled against the sweet taste of his skin.

"Since you asked so nicely..." he guided his hips slowly into you, allowing the first full agonisizngly slow thrust to send electricity up your spine. His heartbeat was booming against your chest as he struggled to hold back, trying to savor each moment.

He didn't want to treat you like the other women he'd used on the lonelier Christmas eves before he met you. Nights the brunt of hard work with no appreciation nor help weighed on him, making him doubt himself.

Something in you sparked a magic within him that he thought was long dead, a list of nonbelievers and greed had killed, but you made him look forward to Christmas again. The magic he lost, hid in you and he felt it. Everytime you touched his skin, or whimpered his name, fire like sparks jolted through him. Magic he'd never felt before erupting just from your sweet words and carresses.

He needed it.

He needed you, and he was going to show you the only way he knew how.

You parted your mouth from his neck, nuzzling your face into his beard as your thighs dug into his soft sides, attempting to spur him on faster but he refused. Each gentle rock of his hips inching further in and out of you as he grasped onto the back of your neck, cradling you against him as he pumped into you in a slow, rhythmic speed and ignoring your pleas.

"Shh, shh..." He stroked his thumb against the back of your neck as he kept his pace, rasping sweet words into your hair as you clawed your nails into his shoulder blades. "You're doing so good, sugar. Let me enjoy this a little more..." His words jagged against you the moment he felt your contractions from his voice. "Yeah.. just like that, sweet girl. Keep doing that for me." Your eyes rolled back from the praise, your toes curling in your boots as he slowly etched away at your mounting climax.

"Oh god, oh god..." you panted against him, the feeling between your legs radiating over your entire body as you felt your peak build and burn in your lower belly.

"No, sugar.." He pushed your head back so he could see your face, "S'just me." A gentle kiss at the corner of your quivering lips as he eyed you, waiting for your break. 

He looked down at you as his silver curls framed his face, patient blue eyes watching your every expression and memorizing it with each movement of his hips. You couldn't process from the haze of your building orgasm, but his own breathing had become unsteady and his skin hot with each pump.

The look on your face was the sweetest thing he'd ever witnessed in his long life as you unwrapped like a bow on Christmas morning around him. Your half lidded eyes struggling to stay open, puffy lips slightly agape as you meakly tried to call to him. The frustration and want from the past two years finally washed from you and between your bodies.

Sweet relief.

"Good girl," he kept his pace steady, voice gentle as he talked you through your orgasm. "M'right here, good girl."

The added wetness onto his cock caused him to clench his jaw as he battled with confine once more, the burning need to take what he wanted growing familiarly strong.

Instead, he grasped your hips and flipped you both, never disconnecting from you. You straddled his hips, face still craddled against him as you breathed heavily. The twist in your stomach recoiled as you sat up and looked down at him in your new position.

"S'all yours." He circled his thumbs against your hips, encouraging you to continue where you'd left off six months ago on the pillow.

The limpness in your body from your consecutive orgasms was no match for the heat that burned when you swallowed in the sight under you. Hair disheveled from your constant grasping, his scarred, tattooed chest rising and falling and oh god... those tattoos...

They really drove you mad.

Instantly your hand grasped onto his chest, nails digging into his soft skin as you began bouncing your hips, soaking in the glorious throb of his cock the moment he watched your body move. His hands traveled up your sides to grasp at your bouncing chest as you fucked yourself stupid on him, tweaking and rolling at your nipples each chance he got.

He may have been holding back in this moment, but you refused to wait any longer. One more year was a milenia too long and you needed all you could get from him tonight.

You threw your head back, hair whipping wildly with as you bucked your hips on top of his; wet colliding of smacking skin tangled with pornographic moans danced in the air with Christmas music.

You released one of your hands from the death grip on his chest and reached for your clit, rubbing furiously as you forced his cock into yourself over and over again at an unrelenting pace. His grunts and heavy breathing christmas music to your ears as you felt yourself once again tense with a third orgasm pathetically waiting around the corner. Strings of incoherent nonsense fell from your parted lips when you ground your hips down into his, greedily taking him entirely as you circled and chased your orgasm fervently.

"Shit..." he was all he could muster.

He commited every moan, curve, swivel of your hips and blemish on your skin to memory before his head fell back in bliss, the convulsions from your cunt becoming too much. His now bruising grip on your hips only tightened as he helped you with your pace while thrusting upward, amplifying your oncoming orgasm with each deep stroke. The familiar twinkle of glitter spiked up your spine as the white heat of your orgasm powerfully crashed down through your center as he continued to fuck you through it.

You fell onto his chest, your body weak and overly sensitive as you panted against his warm skin, face burried in the tuft of hair as he continued to thrust into you at a much slower rate than before, unimaginably hard.

"Shit.." he grunted in amazement again and looked down to only see a mess of hair buried against him. "Sugar?" He pushed your hair back to force you look up at him."You okay?"

"N-Never better."

The glazed over fucked out look caused a proud smile on his face.

"Good." He kissed the top of your head then reached under your thighs, lifting the both of you up and placing you down onto the heap of blankets. "Cause I'm not done with you."

Your stomach jumped as he used your thighs to flip you over on all fours with ease. He placed a pillow under your head and the blanket heap under your hips to keep your ass raised to him, noting how spent you were and adjusting you as needed.

"S'okay, sugar. Just relax. I'll take care of you."

He stroked his fingertips along your soaked entrance, recollecting some of your sweetness to suck off his finger. He hummed to himself, pleased with your taste then grasped a hand around his shaft and another on your asscheek to spread you open. He grunted, appreciating the glistening glow between your legs that the fireplace illuminated before he lead himself back into you.

He was so hard, so big and you were so sensitive and barely there. No thoughts ran through your head, just the focus on the heated pleasure his intrusion brought to your center. With what little mobility you had, you pushed your hips back into his and whined. He let out a soft chuckle at how willing you still were despite being completely cockdrunk on the floor.

"Sweet girl." He mumbled to himself, the new nickname causing your cunt to pulse and within that left all his restraint.

He grasped your hips, pulling your ass back into him with a loud clap and a snarl from his throat. The ripple of your skin caused his eyes to close tight momentarily before he looked back down and watched himself piston in and out of you, his cock shining with your slick. Your desperate and weak whimpers along with the writhing of your body under his pulled a fury out of him he'd not felt in a thousand years too long.

His tip continuesly hit your sweet spot over and over again and you swore you were seeing golden stars burn in the fireplace through your lashes. You attempted to turn your gaze up at him, immediately falling apart at the sight and another coil snapping in your stomach the moment you did.

His silver tendrils hung wildly in his face as he gazed down with an icy blue stare at your connection, his nose back in a permanent snarl and curling each time your hips met. Almost animalistic grunts and growls echoed from his chest with each smack of your thighs as he lurched forward.

His hands landed at either side of your shoulders, stabilizing himself as he leaned over and pumped deeper, faster.

You reached for the hand that lay in front of your face and grabbed it, sliding two of his thick fingers into your mouth and sucking. A gruff groan emitted from his throat as he watched your soft lips suck on him, the heat in his own stomach raising to it's boiling point with each clench of your cunt and soft suckle of your mouth.

"F-Fuck.." he grunted between his teeth, battling the coil in his stomach. "S-Sugar... where d'y--"

"Wanna be your little stocking stuffer..." You mindlessly purred around his fingers as you slid your tongue around each digit, eyes fluttering in a sex filled haze as the next words fell from your mouth like you'd uttered them your whole life. "Nicomund."

Snap.

The deep groan that erupted through his chest was thunderous. His hips collideded one last time into yours, knuckles white around the blanket he grasped and his fingertips pressing into your tongue all at once. It felt as if the fireplace had grown twice as hot and glittery, much like the feeling within you, as he emptied himself. Each deep spurt caused soft yelps between his fingers as you reveled in his pulsing.

You both laid there for a moment as he lazily and slowly thrusted into you, enjoying the feeling of his own cum till your whines snapped him out of his haze.

He eased out of you with a hiss, collapsing next to you on whatever blanket wasn't bunched up under your hips and dragged a heavy arm around your waist. He pulled you into his side, heaving heavily as he brushed his hand over his chest and furrowed his brows at the sweat. "That's new."

"Mmh," you mumbled, still enjoying the full feeling between your thighs his cum gave as you inched into his side and blinked your eyes open to see what he was talking about. "..Sweat?" You rested your head against his shoulder, body still limp and brain function beginning to come back. "Do you not sweat?"

"Never really had a reason to." A soft chuckle as he pressed his fingertips into the softness of your skin. "Not for a long time, at least."

"Mmhyeahhh..." You yawned as you nuzzled into his side, your face pressing into his warmth. "Guess there's not much reason to sweat in the North Pole."

"Yeah," his voice waivered for a moment as he leaned his head down to press his lips against your head, realizing there would be no reason  sweat at home. Not when you're here. "Guess not."

You laid there in silence for awhile, the both of you catching your breath as he combed gentle fingers through your hair and stared off into the Christmas tree in deep thought.

He mulled over if he'd ask you the obvious 'how did you know my name?' and ruin the moment you both were having, but ultimately decided against it.

He knew why. There was no point in asking, not anymore.

"Don't forget your cookies." You mumbled against his skin, shaking him from his thoughts.

"Hm?"

You lifted your face finally with tired eyes as he gazed down at you.

"Made extra cookies for you." A soft, sleepy smile on your face. "Gonna need your energy after that." You muffled a giggle as you draped your arm over his stomach. "Didn't know you still had that in you, old man."

You loved it everytime your wise cracks got that full iconic chuckle from his stomach. Anytime he looked at you with warm eyes and rosy cheeks, amused by your words. You loved it.

"I'm not that old, sugar." He gave you a soft squeeze. "Young enough to still not know what the hell I'm doing."

"Wait --what?" Your brows furrowed in confusion. "You're Santa Claus. You know everything?"

"Not everything." Another soft chuckle. "Some magic I still don't understand."

"So.. how do you do that thing then?" Your curiosity began to peak through, giving you one last gust of energy.

"What thing?" Now it was his turn to be confused, which was an unfamiliar sight.

"You know! The thing where it feels like," you pushed yourself to sit up at his side, pulling part of the blanket over your lap as you danced fingertips up and down your body. "Like uh... like a million Christmas lights twinkling at once inside and all around me."

"I don't?"

"Yes you do!" You nudged his side gently, trying to get him to understand. "I feel it when you touch me!"

The confusion quickly left and another soft look appeared over his brow. Realization hitting him like a collapsing chimney.

"I don't do that, sugar."  His voice gentle and scratchy as he wrapped his arm around your waist again, pulling you back against him as he spoke confidently, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Think you just like me."

He couldn't tell you what the intense sparks were nor why they were there, but he knew what you were talking about because he felt them too. They were the reason he kept coming back. The reason production in the workshop had picked up. The reason the toys were finished early this Christmas eve.

He knew them all too well.

"Huh." You breathed out, a blush creeping over your nose as you nuzzled back into his embrace, not wanting tonight to end. "Embarrassing."

"Shit." He groaned as he sat up, hand still around your waist. "Almost forgot." He reached over to his sack, reaching into the dark abyss and pulling out a wrapped present.

"It's not Christmas morning!" You interjected.

"Yeah, well, I'm Santa Claus. I make the rules." He chuckled as he handed you the box. "Do not break it this time. Takes a shit load'a magic to make these things."

You giggled to yourself, having a feeling on what was inside but still tearing it open as if it were Christmas morning and you had no idea.

"Snow storm proof?" You looked at him with wide, glittering eyes as you pulled out the black, shiny walkie talkie.

"Not sure." He shrugged heavy shoulders. "Guess we'll need to find out." 

"Thank you." You placed the walkie talkie to the side and wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a quick peck on the cheek then sighing softly, "It's almost time."

He sighed deeply, a finger lazily trailing up your spine as he dismissed the time. "Five more minutes."

"No, no." You shook your head, patting his chest before you pushed yourself from his embrace, scrambling for your dress to pull on. "The kids need you." You untangled your legs from the blankets and made your way to the kitchen as he watched you with pinched brows.

You grabbed the cookie tin you'd packed for his night before he arrived and the rest of the schlitz you had in the fridge, as well as a thermos of milk before you made your way back to him and placed it next to him.

"They're not warm anymore but," you shrugged, suddenly feeling small under the intense look he was giving you. "I figured it was better than your pockets. Don't worry, it's not skim." You nodded toward the thermos. "Whole milk."

The bright, proud smile on your face accompanied by the sheepish blush made his cheeks grow rosier too as he pushed himself to sit up.

"Thank you." His response simple, but grateful.

You both just looked at each other for a moment. An unusual glint in his eye as you battled with the annoying flutters happening in your stomach from that glint.

"You need to go." You whispered, hating that you needed to remind him.

"You're gettin' good at telling the time."

"I know."

"Course you do." He spoke confidently as he stroked your cheek before getting up with a groan.

You joined him, grabbing his glasses, his Santa hat that had fallen off your head at one point and one of your hairties for him as he pulled on his clothes.

"Same time next year?" You asked as you reached up to place his glasses on his nose then handing him the hairtie.

"Yeah, sugar. Same time next year." He grinned, sliding the hair tie in his pocket with two beers and the thermos in the other.

"Oh! Don't forget!"

You grabbed the cookies and handed them to him, a pause from you both when the irony of the situation had sparkled obviously under Christmas lights. That stupid glint never leaving his eyes as you both leaned in for another kiss, a wordless goodbye. Your noses bumped together and in a dazzling instant, he was gone.

Your face burned red as you rubbed your forehead, heading to collapse into the heap of blankets that still reeked of peppermint. You reached over for the plate of untouched cookies and took a bite, munching on it as you finally had a coherent thought out loud.

"Do I have a fucking crush on Santa Claus?"

i'm just like her, bc i'd fall in love with him too after all that

I am his, and he is mine

Summary: You’re married off to Ser Harwin Strong by your lord father’s designs, and the prospect of a marriage consummation terrifies you.

Notes: idk man I just need more Harwin Breakmybones smut. Harwin obviously isn’t with our queen Rhae Rhae in this. Also, pretending not to know what we do abt Larys here.

Warnings: virgin!reader, reader is intimidated by Harwin, first time, reader is extremely innocent, vaginal sex, oral sex (f!receiving), Harwin loves eating punani

Masterlist | requests are OPEN! | hmu to be added to a taglist!!

Marrying his bride the day he met her was never what he wanted. Harwin didn’t consider himself a romantic, but he thought it cruel to be bound to someone you didn’t know for the rest of his life. It was more unfair to you, being a woman and forbidden from seeking out others for love.

His father had meant well with this marriage. Apparently, your father was a childhood friend, and you the oldest daughter of a great house. Though Lord Lyonel wasn’t ambitious, he was loyal to his friends, and the king, who encouraged the match. So in a whirlwind of affairs, the betrothal had been arranged by ravens, and the marriage planned.

You had married in the sept of King’s Landing earlier this day, and though Harwin had written you a letter to calm your nerves, the first time he got any impression of you was when your father led you to the altar.

He felt sorry for you. Whatever dreams you had held for the future had been crushed the moment the septon bound you in marriage. And on top of that, he wasn’t sure if you were scared of him or not. His reputation was true to his character, and next to his wide frame, almost every woman looked frail.

And now, while the wedding feast was in full swing, he saw your hands shake as you attempted to cut your food. He tried to distract himself, looking around the room and attempting to take his mind off of the fact that his lady wife seemed to find him unpleasant.

King Viserys was sitting next to his father, leaving Queen Alicent to put on an icy mask. She was better at hiding it than his wife. Perhaps because she had been in King’s Landing for longer. Princess Rhaenyra, on the other hand, was deep in conversation with Lady Laena. The two of them had grown closer since the rift between Rhaenyra and Alicent, and if Ser Harwin was not mistaken, the Queen looked almost jealous.

Prince Daemon was currently returned from his latest exile, trying to rile up Otto Hightower. Judging from the strain in the man’s jaw, the Prince was quite successful in his venture.

Still, it was his wife that seemed the tensest in the room. The new lady Strong, and yet, you seemed to be anything but. From what he had heard from his father, you liked to read and was very well educated, but beyond that only quiet. You did not ride, or hunt, or keep an army of ladies around her.

For the latter, he was grateful, but for the others… It seemed you didn’t have anything in common. Harwin was as educated as a future lord needed to be, but he preferred to train and hunt. The first time he even heard you speak outside of her vows was to his brother.

“A gift, for the bride.” He said, offering you a book. At that, your face lit up.

“Thank you, Lord Larys.”

“I hear you tried to become a Maester once?” he asked, and you blushed.

“I was five and had not yet realized the Citadel accepted neither women nor children.”

Harwin smiled to himself. It seemed that, at the very least, you had some spirit. When his brother had left, he tried to find something to talk to you about.

“So, what topics interest you?” he tried.

“History and medicine.” you replied curtly.

“Yes, I imagine Aegon’s conquest is an interesting read.” He said. You tried to suppress a smile at that, and Harwin raised a brow.

“Is it not?” he asked.

“Forgive me, my lord, but every child is told the story of his conquest over and over. The histories of Old Valyria before the Doom and Nymeria’s conquest are much more interesting, especially since so much source material has been lost.” you said.

He could tell that you weren’t asked about these things very often, the words spilling out of your mouth so quickly.

“What about you?” you asked.

“Hunting and fighting.” He replied.

“Does that not get boring after a while?”

“It is to me what reading is to you.” Harwin said. He knew you were from the Westerlands, where people spoke more eloquently, and though he was from the Riverlands and had no use for flowery words, he tried for you.

Your silence returned when dessert was served. You dreaded the bedding, and Harwin didn’t think he had seen many brides that were as terrified of it as you.

When it was announced that the bedding would begin, you turned even paler. Before the lords attending could swoop in to grab you, Harwin quickly scooped you up into his arms. Wordlessly, he left, as the crowd let out disappointed shouts of protest.

He carried you all the way to their new, shared chambers, setting you down on the bed. Turning around, Harwin grabbed the pitcher of wine to fill up their glasses. You would need it for your nerves.

As he turned back around, he could see you lying on the bed, the skirt of your wedding dress hiked up to your thighs and staring at the ceiling stiff as a board. He would have laughed at the comical sight, if he hadn’t felt sorry for you.

Instead, he sat at the edge of the bed, gently taking your hand.

“What were you told about the bedding?” he asked.

“My cousin told me it was painful, but my duty.” you replied.

“Sit up.” Harwin said, and you scrambled to follow his words, pulling the skirt back down.

“Your cousin must have a horrible husband.” He concluded.

“They- they do not value each other much.” you said carefully.

“Beddings don’t have to be painful.” Harwin began. He’d never been a woman’s first before, but he wasn’t inexperienced by any means.

“Oh.” Was all you said to that. It sounded more like a sigh of relief than a question.

“Did you not say you studied medicine?”

“The bedding was… seen as unseemly for me. It was forbidden.” you replied.

“I’ll be gentle, I won’t hurt you.” Harwin promised. Still, when he tried to come closer to you, you leaned away from him, trying to keep the distance. As if a kiss would kill you.

With a sigh, Harwin grabbed the dagger from his belt and your eyes widened even more.

“What…?” you asked.

“I won’t force you.” He replied simply, rolling his sleeve back.

“No.” you said, grabbing his wrist. It was the first time you touched him. “I- We have to someday. And I’d like to learn. I need to make my father proud.”

“Your father? This is about you.” Harwin tried. You gave him a half-hearted smile, and Harwin felt that he wouldn’t become friends with his father-in-law.

“If you want me to bed you, you should start by kissing me first.” He said, and you nodded.

“Will I be your first?” he asked. You blushed, lowering her gaze, and Harwin carefully tipped her face up.

“Good. Less pressure.” He joked.

“I suppose so.” you replied. “I promise, it wasn’t while we were betrothed.”

“And if it was, I wouldn’t blame you. Whoever he, or she, was they got lucky.”

You smiled at that, blushing due to his compliment rather than shame. With a determined look in your eyes, you put a hand on his face, pressing your lips to his. It wasn’t the chaste kiss they had shared in the sept, and it wasn’t heated with passion, but it was more than the trembling leaf of a woman that had sit next to him at her own banquet.

Harwin deepened the kiss carefully, his hands finding your intricate braids, impossible to tangle into. So he held you by the small of her back instead, kissing you until you broke apart for air.

“That was… dizzying.” you said. Your cheeks were flushed pink, and your pupils had grown dark, and Harwin could feel desire begin to grow for you. Carefully, he seated himself against the cushions, sitting you down in front of him, and beginning to take out the pins in your updo.

While he worked on the tight braidwork, he began to kiss up and down your neck, careful not to go too low too fast. You let out a satisfied sigh, clapping your hand against your mouth afterwards.

“They’re all gone by now. We were too boring, I suppose.” Harwin joked, and you nodded.

“You don’t have to keep quiet.” He encouraged. “It tells me whether I’m doing the right thing.”

“Oh?” you asked.

“Trust me.”

When he was done, your hair fell down your back in soft waves. Harwin briefly wondered if it was because of the braids, or if your hair was always like this.

Then, he moved onto your wedding dress. It was laced in the back, gold and cream embroidery hiding the strings, and you began to tense when he opened them.

“It’ll be more comfortable if you can breathe properly.” Harwin said, slowly pulling the stiff part of the dress over your head. The long skirt followed, until you were left in a thin shift. It looked like it was meant to entice him, barely transparent enough to see your shape, but nothing beyond that.

Harwin took his time laying the dress over a chair in the room, returning with the pitcher of wine. When he offered to refill your glass, you shook your head.

“I’ll be drunk then. I want to remember for the next time.”

“Already planning ahead?” Harwin teased.

“I don’t know. In case this time doesn’t get me pregnant.”

“You do know there’s more to this than getting pregnant, right?” he asked. You raised a brow, as if you did not believe him. “It’s… it’s supposed to be fun as well.”

“Can we start with kissing again?” you asked shyly. Harwin leaned over, kissing you softly. Your hands were unsure, cupping his face, roaming around his hair and awkwardly landing on his arms. Harwin readjusted them, putting one on his jaw and the other on his shoulder the way he liked it.

He really tried to hold back, but when you let another whine slip, he grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap. You squealed, surprised, but once you were there, you continued with more enthusiasm than before.

Breaking the kiss, Harwin saw that your lips had become a little swollen. Mindlessly, he tucked a strand of hair back to where it had fallen out of place.

“I’m ready.” you said, lying back against the pillows with a look of determination on your face. Harwin snorted.

“You are not. If I do it now, it’ll hurt. Have you ever even touched yourself?”

Your mouth fell open at that, as if he was accusing you of fucking a horse, and your blush took ahold of your ears as well.

“I’m only asking to make you comfortable.”

“Never… inside.” you managed.

Harwin nodded, making his way down your body until he reached the hem of your shift. Gently, he began to pull it up and automatically, your legs crossed over.

When he tried to pry them open, you pulled away.

“I have had my maidenhead inspected.” you said, voice high-pitched.

“I wasn’t inspecting anything. Just… trust me on this.” Harwin asked.

It took you a moment, but eventually, you opened your legs back up, allowing him access. Harwin knew better than to stare (for now), and began kissing the inside of your thighs, making his way towards your cunt. When he finally tasted it, he felt like he was ready to die – until his lady wife scrambled backwards, trying to gather her bearings.

“This is wrong. It’s sinful.” you whispered.

“Not really. Asked my septon when I was a boy, and also, it feels good.” Harwin replied nonchalantly.

“I’ll take you by your word.” you said seriously.

You lied back down, and Harwin held your thighs, trying to make a squeeze somehow feel reassuring before he started again, slowly lapping up the wetness your cunt had produced. He could feel you writhe beneath him, but better yet, he could hear you moan.

Muffled pants and cries reached him, spurring him on. Very cautiously, he pushed in one finger, continuing to lick your clit to ease the way. It went in easier than he thought, and so, Harwin crooked it to make you feel even better.

He wanted to be your first in this as well, and he didn’t care if that was greedy.

He had to push you down by the stomach when your back arched. Harwin chuckled to himself as he worked the finger inside you, knowing exactly what he was doing.

After a while, he could feel your body begin to shake, and your legs wrapped around his head, pushing him down. He almost felt proud of you, even as he began to run out of air, but Harwin kept going, until you came, licking you like a starving man.

When you went limp under his touch, Harwin dared to come up from under your shift.

“And?” he asked.

“Whatever that was… I think I caught a glimpse of the Seven Heavens.” you sighed.

“You… came.” He replied, half-asking.

“Yeah. It was wonderful.”

“Did you never?”

“No. I didn’t dare.” you said.

“That’s a pity, to go so many years of your life without pleasure.”

“I see that now.” you quipped, and Harwin laughed with you.

You sat in silence for a while, you leaning against his shoulder with your eyes closed. Harwin felt that he was hard for you, but he didn’t want to disturb you. He could bed you some other time.

Sated with the knowledge that he had already done this for you, Harwin took off his wedding suit and changed into the long linen trousers that were laid out for him. He could feel your eyes burn into his back. Just to tease you (and not at all to inflate his ego), he flexed his back- and arm muscles.

He settled back into bed, staring at you until you realized you had been caught.

“Does my lady wife approve?”

“Mhm.” you mumbled, shamelessly staring at his chest. “I want another.”

“Another?” Harwin asked.

“Bed me. Make me feel like that again.” you mumbled through gritted teeth. Hesitantly, you let her hand wander under the blankets and into his trousers. His cock was still hard from before, and your eyes widened as you felt the girth of it.

“How will it fit?” you asked.

“You managed two fingers. I’ll help you work it out, but there’ll still be a small stretch.” Harwin tried.

Your hand was still frozen on his dick, so he carefully guided it to stroke him. All word about you rang true, you were a good learner.

Harwin closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall to concentrate on the sensation for a moment, before he stopped you.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Please.” you replied. There was still a residue of nervousness in your eyes, but Harwin wasn’t going to say no to such an invitation.

Slowly, he pulled your shift over her head, tossing it aside carelessly. For a moment, he could only stare, causing you to cross your arms over your chest.

“You’re beautiful.” Harwin said breathlessly. He wasn’t used to being gentle, but Gods be damned, he’d try for you.

Taking his pants off again, he began to kiss your tits, lavishly sucking more bruises into your perfect skin. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him down towards you, and Harwin tried to suppress a groan.

“Good?” you asked.

“Yeah. Really good.” Harwin replied. Your response was to lightly tug his curls, a smirk on your lips. He kissed you again, this time forgetting everything about gentleness and going slowly, swallowing your sounds up with a kiss, desperately holding your face with his hands, dwarfing it in comparison.

His thumb stroked your cheek, trying to convey the awe he already held for you, and you raked your hands through his hair in response. His resolve was melting by the second.

Carefully, he angled his dick up with your cunt, teasing your clit with the tip for a moment, before he slowly sank into you. One of your hands landed on his hips, and Harwin froze.

“Are you alright?” he asked. You stared up at him, wide-eyed, before you nodded.

“Just need a moment.” you managed. Excruciatingly slowly, Harwin sank in further, waiting for you to adjust, until he was fully inside you.

“Can I…?” Harwin began. You nodded, and he pulled back, before thrusting forward with as much self-control as he possessed. He expected you to cry out in pain, but instead, you met him with an unabashed moan.

“Fuck.” you panted, before catching yourself.

“I don’t believe you’ve sworn before.” Harwin managed. You opened your mouth to say something, but he thrust again and your answer was swallowed by another moan.

He tried to put all of his newfound devotion into his thrusts, to make you happy. To satisfy you, so that you would not grow to despise him, at the very least in this way.

All of his intentions of being slow and loving disappeared when you began to beg.

“Please, I need more.” you whispered. Even through the dim candlelight, Harwin saw you blush, but who was he to deny you?

So he picked up the pace, his thrusts turning almost brutish. He would have worried for you, if your eyes hadn’t been in the back of your skull, and your nails weren’t digging into his back.

“Fuck, you’re so.. didn’t expect this.” Harwin managed. You gave him a laugh, which immediately turned into a wanton moan under his ministrations.

“My pretty little wife, legs open only for me.” He praised. Harwin felt your legs wrap around his hips, desperate to create more friction, more intensity.

“Only for you.” You repeat, and Harwin can see the change in your expression, from tense to relaxed. Your posture is open to him (in more ways than one) and his heart almost sings at the thought that you might not despise him or be terrified of him after all.

Harwin manages to steady his mind into looking at you, and Gods, you look fucking angelic. Hair splayed out like a halo, mouth parted and face contorted in pleasure, trying so, so hard to keep your long-lost composure. Nothing feels more right than trying to break that composure, to make you melt into his arms even more.

To give up any thought of propriety and be his.

His thoughts run wild, his heart pounding in his chest with crazed abandon and he can feel himself coming close to the edge. He searches for the bundle of nerves between your legs, hoping to make you scream and when he finds it, it works so well he’s worried the entire Red Keep will hear you after all.

Desperately, he begins to rut into you, watching all coherent thoughts disappear from your eyes as he brings you over the edge a second time. Only then does he allow himself to cum, grabbing your hips harshly until he, too, is spent.

Suddenly exhausted, he rolls off of you, lying next to you and only grabbing your hand.

He turns to face you after a while, you doing the same. Your eyes meet and a smile appears on your flushed face.

“My body feels like it’s filled with lead.” You whisper.

“My lady wife. I never knew I could get this lucky.” He replies. Harwin got out of the bed, trying to find a washcloth. For once, you did not ask any questions, eyes closed in bliss. You let him wipe off the remainder of his seed, burrowing into his side as he lies down next to you.

“You are mine.” You whisper, hearing him chuckle at your words.

“Indeed. I swore it before the Seven just this morning.”

“I think I’m falling in love with you, Ser Harwin.” You sigh.

“So am I, my love.” He replies.

this is poetry i'm not even kidding

you are now legally required to supply me with some harwin smut

bewitching

pairing: harwin strong x princess!reader

word count: 1k

warnings: eighteen+ content, porn with very little plot, f receiving oral, daddy harwin eats pussy like it’s his last meal, he’s literally in love with reader, mutual pining, marking, reader can ride dragons therefore was written with being a targaryen in mind, insinuated that reader is a virgin, brief mentions of masturbation and dirty talk.

etc: could never say no to you my lovey, i hope this filth serves you well <3 it’s my first time writing in the got world so go easy on me!

“Ser—” the princess’ gasp is barely above that of a whisper, but in the desolate halls the sound echoes off the stone like a melody wrapped in silk, that lands at the heart of his desire and the head of his cock. “Harwin.”

“Do you wish me to stop, princess?”

Gods he prayed not, as his eyes looked down at you. The heavy heave of your chest—of the bare breast he just had in his mouth, tongue swirling, lips wrapped around your nipple.

A brief taste; longing looks from across crowded gatherings and fields, conversations that held more tension than a cast iron, that wicked smile that could bring forth the strongest of men to drop down in front of you—is all it took for a festering wound of affliction to blister deep in Ser Harwin Strong’s bravado.

If you were to push him away, to put an end to this, he’d go without trife. Happily give his princess what she wanted. You were not something to be conquered. To persuade. To overcome. You had become more to the Commander of the City Watch than he should have allowed on good conscience.

The magnetism that drew the two of you together finally coming to a head. Finally letting him press your back to the stone wall and seize his mouth to yours, his palms on your cheeks gentle when he felt the frenzy within his veins to swallow you whole.

To finally show you why he had dark circles rounding his eyes, sleep only finding him when your face was behind his eyelids—waking him in the late hours of the night in a hot sweat and a throbbing cock.

You held the reins of more than just dragons. Over Kings Landing. Over meek men who thought wrongly in thinking they deserved to breathe the same air as you, let alone ask to wed you.

“No,” you sigh. Pushing the heat between your legs along his thigh, the warmth burning through to his skin. Making his throat bob, “don’t stop, please.”

Harwin had no interest in making his princess beg. Plead.

He was here to serve you. To please you. To aid you in your own pleasure. To take honor in you letting him touch, taste, have you in this way like no other has before.

You held the reins over him; his lust, his desire, his affliction to simply be next to you. You had encompassed his mind, body and soul. And even the strongest of men cannot resist the bewitching of such a maiden with beauty and power.

You bring him to his knees like a wielded sword that he’s all too eager and willing to succumb to.

And as he moves down your trembling figure to his knees, pushing up your night dress, pulling your leg over his shoulder—his mouth moving along the inside of your thigh, teeth sinking in, your hips jutting, whimpers leaving your lips; he knows he holds those same reins over you.

That his affliction was yours.

That if he so desired he could have your front pressed to the stone and you’d let him take you with his cock right here. Fucking into your tight heat, palm over your mouth; you would beg then, plead for more.

A need appeased for the both of you.

He’d love nothing more.

A thought for next time. Right now, having you wither against his mouth as he runs a stripe up your wet folds, lips wrapping around that bud that has your fingers wrapping in his curls and tugging—is what his princess needs, what he needs.

The nightly images of you trembling below and against his broad frame, that flashed behind his eyes with his hand around his cock late at night, were mere delusions compared to the look of pleasure you were giving him each time your eyes looked down upon his.

Each time the tip of his tongue swirled around your clit, his grip on your thighs bruising, the deep grunt that vibrates through the halls each time he thinks of the marks he could be leaving on your skin to remember for later—the same mark you have left on his being.

He’d make the marks on your soft skin just as permanent, if you let him. If you allowed him between your legs again.

He would worship at his knees for the whole kingdom to see. Show his honor and devotion in the swipe of his tongue or the thrust of his cock, if it meant being beside you.

Having you. He'd beat down a million men, bloodied and hanging onto their lives the way your fingers are clinging to his shoulder, as your hips pump against his face.

“Ahh,” you gasp as he slips a thick finger in your tight heat. His finger twisting and pumping in time with his mouth against your folds, your clit, no part of your cunt going untouched by his tongue.

He wonders if this was your intention all along, when you slipped from your bed and down the desolate halls so late at night. Were you looking for him? The glint of happiness when you saw him round the corner was enough for him to have his mouth on you within seconds.

There’s a burning need in his gut to pull his mouth from your sex and press it against yours again, to feel those lips that tell the most beautiful tales, that speak his name like a lullaby—to silence you so you’re not caught; a death sentence that does little to put fear in him, but excitement instead.

When Harwin adds another finger it takes the restraint of a strong man not to pull you down onto him, to not plea to be inside those same walls that are gripping his fingers in a vice. Your moans growing louder as he fucks you with them with more vigor.

And when you finally come undone against his mouth, the way you gasp his name like you’re speaking to the Gods themselves, Harwin knows that he’s ours.

“Take me to bed,” his princess breathes against his mouth as he licks into yours, letting you taste your own sweetness.

“Yeah?” His grin is overzealous, hips grinding into your still throbbing heat, his leathers unable to conceal the thickness of his cock. Your eyes going wide at the lengthy drag of it against you, wariness in your eyes. His voice low against your lips, “it’ll fit, trust me princess. I have you. If you’re certain.”

Your nod is slow but sure. A kiss pressed to his wet mouth in certainty.

He will take your virtue and make it his own with the gentlest of licks from his mouth and strokes of his hips.

Never had he imagined himself to be a soft man. A man willing to go slow with the tide when an animalistic necessity of power went along with his given name.

But for his princess, softness is all he held.

There would come a time where heavy thrusts and rough fingers would be dug into your soft skin. But tonight the gentleness that came with savoring the moment is what you both needed.

please bring me this man to my bed rn

Request for Sandor reacting to praise in bed and just being overall weak for it. Obviously it would need to be an established relationship for him to show it but I just know he’s got a thing for praise once he’s comfortable with his partner.

(A/N): hello there, sweetie!

I'd like to first of all, apologize for how much this request took me to satisfy as I swear I started writing it last week but then I got sidetracked by some other stuff... so, I am sorry (even more because I tried to involve the whole 'praise' but I don't know if it turned out alright!).

also thank to @poisonsage808 who helped me brainstorm through the initial AU I got in mind for sweet doctor and Sandor (also this is inspired by a Grey's Anatomy scene).

as always, any feedback is welcomed and if you want to send a request, I'd love to although I am not the fastest at replying to it.

WARNINGS: modern! AU, you can't take wrestler/boxer! Sandor out of my claws, sexual harassment, violence (Sandor punches two dudes), awkward first dates, awkward confessions, handjobs, oral sex (male receiving), thigh-fucking, sarcasm (a whole lot of that).

if you are a minor, please don't read this as it is 18+

𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝓇𝓊𝓃 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 (𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓇𝓊𝓃 𝓉𝑜)

from 'Grey's Anatomy' (12x02)

“Your patient is here”.

When you heard that, you were running through the aisles of the emergency room as you had only recently become a resident in the hospital you worked at.

This didn’t mean that you were any way out of the cycle of exploitation that came with the younger doctors.

“He isn’t my patient” you corrected the older nurse who had taken you underneath her wing, although without too much energy as you had been reeling from an awful shift around the hospital, glad that once you were finished with a few last checkups you’d get to go back home and shed the irritating scrubs for your fluffy pajama.

Still, you felt a bit cheered up by the news that Madga, the nurse, brought to you, although you tried to keep your face completely neutral as you had always insisted that Sandor Clegane wasn’t your patient, no matter the fact that he agreed only to be treated and checked by you and none of the other doctors.

The night that you had met Sandor, you had been reeling from a shift of hell and you hadn’t been able to clock out because the entire emergency room was in lockdown till, they got the guy who was bleeding profusely treated as he refused treatment insisting, he didn’t need it.

‘You are bleeding profusely’ you had shot back, without even looking the man in the face ‘… treatment is the least of your worries’.

‘It ain’t all mine’.

That should have made you run for the hills but in all truth, you were tired, overworked and damnably cranky enough that had this dude been a convicted serial killer, you’d have simply asked him to take you out and be done with him.

‘Alright, but some of it probably is’ you had shot back fixing him with a stubborn gaze ‘… gods, let’s just put it in this perspective: I have been up on my feet since last night and till I don’t medicate you, I can’t leave. So, be a good boy and let me handle you then you can rip off the bandage to act cool with your friends, but for now shut up and let me do my job’.

And strangely – according to everybody – the impressively muscly guy had let you to do your job, even in silence, which was much more than you were allowed to handle as often sweet old ladies would try to set you up with their unmarried children.

On the same day of the following week, Sandor – you had checked out his name in his records as you’d know at least who ended up kidnapping you, had he come after you for having told him off – had come back and this time it was mostly bruises to the point where you had asked him whether he was into some kind of fight club.

‘Haven’t you watched the movie?’ he had shot back, laughing while you had thought he’d straight up chew you up as you checked his bruises and his chest in search of broken ribs – a rather interesting task as this man was as big as a tank – ‘… first rule of the fight club we don’t talk about the fight club’.

‘It’s actually “you do not talk about fight club”’ you had shot back pettily ‘… I actually saw the movie’.

And that had gotten you an even barkier laugh and strangely this time you had joined in.

With time, you had understood that Sandor wasn’t masochist with a kink for bruises and blood, but he worked at a gym as he taught there boxing classes.

He was also a past champion in the competition field of boxing and he still fought regularly in a few tournaments.

‘Friends say that I am too old’ he had once commented as you checked a swollen wrist in a way that seemed like the closest that you’d ever come to hold his hand ‘… but screw it’.

‘Yeah, it isn’t that you are old, it is just that you suck’.

‘You wouldn’t say that if you saw me fight, doc’.

So, maybe you had taken into flirting with your patient, which was just just a line above disrupting your Hippocrates’ swearing.

Still, it didn’t mean anything as you were sure that it was just Sandor’s way of letting go of tension as he had once confessed to you that he didn’t particularly like hospital.

‘When I got the burn…’ and he had lightly turned to have you better see the ugly scar on his side of the face ‘… doctors were fucking useless if not to scream at me for being a reckless dumbass’.

‘We have improved a whole lot in the treatment of the patients’ you hadn’t been that close to ask more about that scar and neither the aftermath of it, so you had offered a soft laugh as Sandor shot you a conflicted look.

‘Did you – for any chance – fail the exam about “how to treat a patient”?’.

See… meaningless flirting on Sandor’s part, as had it come to you, you’d have climbed that tree of a man like a freaking monkey at the first occasion.

But it was clear he didn’t trust easily, and he was already making an act of faith by allowing you to check upon him, although many insisted that somehow this made you special to him.

Hence, he was your patient, although he technically wasn’t.

But whenever he came in, he didn’t allow anybody but you to treat him; you had had to once come in to treat a particularly nasty wound he had gotten from some fuckers thinking it’d be fun to hide iron pieces in his gloves – although it was illegal – since he refused anybody to check it out for him.

“Is he bleeding out or near death?” you asked as you needed to check the situation.

“Just being a huge pain in the ass with the risk of a broken wrist” Madga sufficed making you smirk “… I have gotten him to at least press ice on it, but I don’t think that he’d be patient much longer”.

“Alright, alright, I am coming but I need to do a small run up of the emergency room quick”.

One of the reasons why you were so stressed that night, was because a whole set of football fanatics had come in that night, as they had chosen to drink a bit too much and have all out fight to prove which was the best squad.

It was mostly broken noses, concussions and a few stabbing wounds but considering the high level of alcohol they needed to be checked.

“No worries, he is already waiting for you, there” and just like that Madga was off with a sweet smile on her face that got you to fluster and need a breath before you moved inside of the emergency room.

There were five guys, other than Sandor, two of which passed out and another – the stabbed one – was still in medical coma although he was out of danger.

The last two were up in their hospital beds, playing around with the buttons of it to have it raise over and over.

Sandor was lightly talking with a few of the friends that had forced him at the hospital, so he didn’t notice your presence till you came in front of those two idiots to ask them to stop playing around.

“… that is hospital furniture and not a game”.

Tou meant to be stern, but they didn’t look convinced although they shifted their attention away from the remote and onto you, and their combined stares gave you the chills but you tried your best to keep calm.

“If you are finished, I am going to need to check you up and then I’ll leave you alone”.

“Oh, but sweetie!” the older one commented as he reached out a hand to you “… we don’t want to be left alone after seeing such a pretty sight!”.

“I am your doctor and I’d prefer it if you’d address me like that”.

Although you were younger – and far sober than them – it didn’t mean that they needed to undermine you as you knew that the moment that such a thing happened, it’d have opened doors that you wished to keep closed.

“Oh, don’t be so serious, sweetheart!” oh gods, it was too late as the other one joined in “… don’t tell me that you are all work an no fun”.

“I am just doing my job” curt and short answers to avoid making it feel like you were encouraging them “… now, are you feeling pain anywhere?”.

“Oh, right here, sugar” and he brought his hand over his crotch making you unable to hold back a grimace “… I am sure that your pretty hands might get me feeling better!”.

“Sir, I’d ask you to be serious as this is a hospital” you tried to keep your tone calm although you were slowly growing more and more frustrated “… now I am going to ask it again: are you hurt anywhere that you need me to check?”.

“And he has already told you that he needs your pretty hands” his friend croaked making you want to puke honestly “… or maybe your mouth”.

“I am going to call security if you don’t calm down” and just like that the switch was off.

“What the fuck, bitch?”.

Oh perfect, you almost preferred them disgustingly flirty and obnoxious.

“… what did you just say?”.

“Just that if you don’t calm down, I’ll be forc…”.

You were all too suddenly shoved back, and you almost risked of falling down hadn’t there been a curtain for privacy to stop you from getting down on your ass.

“… calm down, please!”.

“Calm you the fuck down, sweetheart!” his colleague went on as he quickly was in your face, and you backed off attentively searching for anybody’s attention, but all the nurses were petrified and obviously your fellow doctors were anywhere but there. 

At least you hoped they were calling the security.

“This bitch think that she can give us orders!” the younger one started as he banged his head against the few monitors around “… no one can fucking control us!”.

“We are untamable, brother!” his friend cheered him on “… and this bitch can’t tell us anything!”.

“Yeah, she can’t!”.

And again he was onto your face, all too close for your comfort but before he could raise a hand against you, said hand was grabbed away from you and the fucker flew on the other side, giving his accomplice just the time to realize it before he was hit in the face by a punch.

You had just the time to fucking blink before a rough hand – with a very swollen wrist – was offered to you and Sandor’s face was onto yours, checking attentively for any possible damage, before he gruffed out:

“Are you alright, doc?”.

“I take it back about the fact that you can’t fight”.

Oh gods, of course the first thing that you blurted out would be this one.

And he smiled, oh fuck, he did a cocky and bashful smile! 

Not a smirk, a full-on smile! 

Oh gods, oh gods, where was the defibrillator?

“You definitely hit your head on the way there to say this bullshit”.

Once your hand was in his own he didn’t simply help you up to your feet, he put you on your feet and then moved to adjust your lab coat right as the security jumped in, taking in the sight of what looked like a disastrous moment.

“Ahem… we were called” a guard commented taking in the situation to ascertain whether he had to act in as all he could see was you being helped up by a burly man as two were on the ground “… there was an aggression”.

“Keyword: was” Sandor muttered burly “… you are late”.

“Well, we…”.

You shut down any excuse:

“Can you please put the gentlemen back to bed and restrain them? I’d rather they don’t toy with the expensive medical furniture around”.

And they, at least, moved quickly to do such a thing as an applause erupted from the few people that had witnessed such a thing, making both you and Sandor quite bashful as the old man moved behind you and you huffed at the fact that he could handle violence but not thankfulness.

“By the way, I am pretty sure your wrist is broken” you thought it was the right moment to comment as you eyed the swelling that wouldn’t go down “… gotta treat that, since I am sure that you just worsened the situation by doing that”.

“If by doing that you mean ‘saving your ass’, you are welcome” oh back to the shit-eating grin, but at least he let you lead him to a hospital bed as you waved over one of the unlucky interns of the first year that had stayed behind “… thank the gods, I have you, doctor to check onto me”.

“Not tonight” and that’s where everything was decided “… Podrick will bandage you and give you further direction for a cast, alright?”.

To his honor, Podrick waved at Sandor, although he looked halfway through shitting himself.

“You can’t let me in the hands of that squirt” Sandor turned to you to check out whether you were joking “… listen, I am not even going to protest against the cast… just don’t let me in the hands of doctor Butterfinger over there, please!”.

“First of all: I think it’s the first time that you ever said ‘please’ while talking to him” you muttered calmly before blurting out the truth “… also I can’t examine you if I want to date you, so you’ll have to deal of Podrick under my supervision, alright caveman?”.

You didn’t think that you had ever seen the visual representation of error 404, till you looked at Sandor’s reaction at your intention to date him as his stare was completely blank although his eyes were set onto you as if he wasn’t sure whether it was real or not.

“… you… date…” oh gods, he’d need also a brain scan after this “… me?”.

“If you don’t have to punch anybody else after this” you tried to lighten the situation as you gestured Podrick forward “… we could go for a coffee since the hospital one is shit”.

“I agree on that” and by both your glares Podrick realized he needed to work in silence “… sorry, didn’t want to ruin the moment”.

“… you want to go out on a date…” Sandor went on as the younger doctor moved onto checking his wrist “… hey! Be careful! But you want to go on a date with me?”.

“Why not?” you shot back “… you are hot, just punched two dudes to protect me, enduring the humiliation of having a first-year work on you… no offense Podrick, by the way. You are going much better than I thought”.

“Thank you!” the boy piped up, not hearing the sarcasm in your voice.

“Alright, I’ll ignore the first reason, but you shouldn’t date people who punch others, sweetheart”.

“I didn’t say that you punched some rando. You punched somebody… to protect me”.

“That was impressive, I gotta admit”.

“Podrick!”.

“Alright, I am shushing it” he commented as he moved his hand to apologize and go back to check on Sandor before assuring that he’d need x-ray and probably a bandage because although the bone didn’t seem broken the situation there wasn’t ideal “… you might get out with just a bandage to your date”.

“First of all, squirt, none of your business” Sandor shot to the doctor and then turned to you “… and I haven’t agreed to anything. If I date you, does it seriously mean you can’t check me?”.

“I can check you out, but I don’t think that’s what you mean” you replied softly “… but no, it’d be a conflict of interest”.

“And I’d be stuck with Mr. I-Pissed-My-Pants for every checkup?”.

“Don’t be so awful to Pod” you chastised him before leaning closer to him under the pretense of checking Pod’s work “… also, I’d make it worth your time”.

And you did since the moment that you were back from the bar – after Sandor had gotten his wrist bandaged as it was a very bad sprain and he’d have to come again in a few days to see whether the thing had solved itself or not – you were pushed against the door of your ascetic apartment with Sandor’s lips onto your own.

“Told ya I’d make it worth your time” you muttered as you took in his face and smirked at the soft smile on his own as his arm brought you impossibly closer to him.

“I thought that the shitty doctor would break my wrist” he protested as you just pretended to sigh dramatically.

“Not on my watch” you promised as you pecked again his lips.

And again.

And maybe another more time for good measure, as you led him by his shirt towards your bedroom as you took a moment to realize whether Sandor would fit on it or not and you hoped that it wouldn’t just give out the moment that you started receiving the most mind-blowing sex ever, because you were sure that was what you were going to be given that night.

Aside another further realization that you were glad that he’d move from ‘your patient’ to possibly ‘your boyfriend’.

“… so, ahem… I… am not…”.

Still, it was Sandor who stopped halfway through the moment that he realized you had arrived at your bedroom.

“Not the type to go all out on the first date?” you sufficed with a soft smile but willing yourself to be comfortable “… I didn’t… I didn’t want you to feel forced, sorry I didn’t…”.

“Oh no, I want to”.

Well, wasn’t that flattering. 

Even more considering that you were in scrubs still and that was highly a turn on.

“… believe me I do”.

“Is it about me?” you dared to ask because as nice as your conversation with Sandor had been maybe it had been one-sided, and he was trying to be nice and not hurt your feelings…

“Definitely” he promised with a soft smile, plucking your forehead “… but also… you know how you tease me about being an old man…”.

“And you know that working in the hospital I can put my hands on certain… meds”.

“I am not that old!” he protested sending you a light glare “… I just meant that… tonight’s fight might have been… tough on me… so, I am… I don’t know… how satisfying I can be. I do… want to bend you and break the headboard of your bed but…”.

“Alright no expectations” because your mind had definitely switched off at the ‘break your headboard’ “… and be mindful of your wrist, I might have some ice around…”.

But before you could move then Sandor stopped you and you were again onto his lips again, wondering how you had ended up in your bed, on top of him and why was your top scrub off and most importantly why he had still his t-shirt on.

Although that was an easy manageable problem as you pawed at his shirt, till he got the hint, and he moved up his arms and here you were.

“Sandor, that cut isn’t definitely old”.

“Good thing, you aren’t my doctor anymore, sweetheart”.

You giggled a bit at that as Sandor kissed you again and soon everything was forgotten as he smiled softly at you, his hand gently brushing against your cheek, and you leaned wholly onto him while his other hand went to unhook your bra and suddenly your upper body was bare to him.

You felt your cheeks warm up as you might have been bold enough to get there and to propose the date, but you felt like maybe you had lost all your self-confidence till your favorite patient decided that such a thing wouldn’t happen on his watch and all too soon hot and biting kisses were dragged down your body, from your neck to the valley of your chest as his beard created a pleasurable friction getting you to laugh.

“So… can I try to do my own check-up?”.

“Please don’t ever say it again” you shushed him as you tried to push him back by his hair but inevitably you relented as his mouth closed around one of your nipples getting you to moan softly at the sensation of his lips while his other hand gently palmed the nipple in soft slow circles as if it was a more message than teasing.

And it certainly calmed down any anxiety that you might have, as you fell into a lulling sensation, further digging your hands into Sandor’s hair to keep him there and only relented when he moved to switch sides, as his fingers went to pinch your nipple getting you to flinch a bit at the teasing sensation.

It was safe to say that when he detached himself, you were whiny and drenched down there.

You rutted against him, more out of instinct than anything else, feeling him half-hard as he pushed himself against you making you smirk softly at the sensation of being desperately wanted.

You parted for the time that it took you to divest from the little clothing that you still had and although you weren’t yet comfortable in your skin, it felt easier to reveal yourself to Sandor.

And you had to when you heard him hiss in pain, thinking the immediate worst of it.

Although maybe more than pain it might have been frustration as you found Sandor struggling to get out of his pants with one hand as the other was held out probably since he couldn’t bend it properly due to the pain and swelling.

You’d have laughed, hadn’t you been told that it was bad to laugh when a man had his dick out in front of you.

And you were a bit too impressed by the size of it.

“Need a hand, big guy?” you attracted his attention as you pressed yourself wholly against him, startling him as you gently reached around to shoo away his hand and help him unbutton his pants with your own “… raise please”.

And strangely he did raise himself without even protesting and allowed you to gently push down his pants and then boxers as he stepped away from them and then – one leg at the time – he got his socks off and he naked exactly as you.

He didn’t turn around immediately, after that and you let him take the time he needed, gently caressing his lower stomach, more comfortingly than sexually as you dusted a few kisses across his huge shoulders.

“We might have a problem, doc”.

“Uhm?”.

“So, you know how you call me a stubborn ass?” he muttered, and you nodded softly “… ahem… my wrist hurts a whole lot than I thought”.

“Do you want some painkillers?” Podrick – on your suggestion – had prescribed them to him, but Sandor had shot you down and he did again “… we can stop. Absolutely not pressure! I understand it! If anything, I am glad…”.

“Yeah, I don’t think that it’ll go down, soon”.

It took you a moment to realize what he meant with that but soon you understood and couldn’t help but feel yourself blush.

“… as much as it pains me, I am going to need your help putting on the box...”.

“No!”.

Oh, yeah that was a totally normal reaction to have.

“… ahem… I could give you a hand…?”.

Quite literally, actually.

And Sandor seemed to understand what you were meaning as he sent you a bashful look.

“You don’t need to” he promised “… I am an old man, and I won’t… I won’t take it to heart…”.

“Oh no, believe me I am not feeling like I have to” and you sneaked a small look at the red tip of his dick “… I’d like to… I mean if you’d allow me…”.

“Can you stop please treating it like I am having you meet my parents and touch my fucking cock?”.

That was enough to take off the edge and you gently, oh so gently lowered your hand down his body as you checked the reaction of Sandor’s body so that you could feel whether he was feeling any discomfort and you immediately stopped the moment that his hand joined your own halting you in your movements.

You had thought for a moment that he’d have stopped you, but instead he simply turned to you and the released your hand to gently bring his own to your chin and push it up.

“Are you sure it’s fine?”.

“It’s either that or I check on all those wounds you haven’t show me”.

“Then, sweetie…” oh fuck he smirked like that one more time and you wouldn’t have lasted long “… suit yourself”.

You swallowed down and then set your mind at ease on the matter at hand, although it did – indeed – feel like you were just about to meet Sandor’s parents.

Well, you were meeting a big part of his life.

Emphasis on big.

“Sandor…” you muttered, and his eyes were immediately onto your own, as he searched for a single moment of hesitation “… has anybody ever told you that you are so fucking handsome?”.

“Not really” he seemed confused “… nobody definitely has said that, while they looked at my dick”.

“Well, it isn’t my fault, it’s very pretty” and at his flustered reaction, you felt a bit more confident, enough to actually wrap fully your hands around his cock and although your grip was loose, he hissed at the contact of your warm hand “… like the rest of you”.

“Have never been described as pretty” Sandor shot back, his breathing itching in his throat although you hadn’t done anything yet but letting him stay in your hand, holding him as you got used to the heavy weight before gently brushing your thumb against the tip, right against the slit “… fuck… I…”.

“It’s a pity”.

You felt spurred on his reaction as you retreated your thumb from his tip and instead, tightened your hold onto him not enough to be painful but wanting to test his limits, feeling it wholly twitch as your fingers met a particular vein underneath his head.

“… you should be told often”.

“I’d prefer if you just got me off, sweetheart” he felt somehow threatened “… instead of teasing like a little shit”.

“But pretty things need to be appreciated” you shot back almost hurt by his language and denial as you released his dick from your hold, getting poor Sandor to look at you with wide-open eyes.

Still, nothing could prepare him as you dropped down onto your knees right at the same level of where he stood now, fully hard.

“… you should take your time with appreciation. Even more when somebody has never felt it”.

You were sure that Sandor would say something or try to stop you but thankfully he looked too taken by your gestures to even comment anything and you were thankful for it, because you had so much to say as you brought both your hands around his cock, right at the same, squeezing with enough pressure to get the big burly man in front of you to moan, before you brought your fists forward in a tentative stroke.

“… surprised that I am on my knees, big boy?” you asked to him as he hadn’t uttered a word since you had ended right between his legs “… how else would I express my gratitude for what you have done back then?”.

“No need for… no…” he stammered, and you just brought another stroke on his cock, being sure to lightly twist your wrist at the head for maximum stimulation as you felt like you just were starting to learn his pressure points “… no need”.

“Let me decide that” and to further convey the meaning of this, you dared a small lick at the vein that you had noticed got him further flustered and again another moan erupted from his mouth “… fuck, your moans sound so pretty”.

And much to your satisfaction, Sandor made another as you gently enveloped your mouth around the tip of his cock, as you tried to cover the rest of his length with your hands, with the tips of your fingers around his length barely touching.

You sucked softly, tonguing his slit to add further stimulation and again Sandor’s breath itched in his throat before the thick bead of pre-cum was deposited on your tongue and you used it swiftly to try to give a long lick onto all that you could cover on his length further helping yourself to spread it with your hands.

You don’t know what got into you, but you made eye-contact with Sandor swiftly and just pushed out your tongue to show him the slight substance of his pre-cum mixed with your saliva and you secretly hoped he had your same disinterest towards bodily fluids.

Which he probably did as all too suddenly you were brought up again onto your feet by his working arms and all too suddenly you were being kissed like Sandor’s life depended onto chasing the taste of himself on your tongue and you had to admit that you enjoyed the sloppiness and the intensity of it as his cock instead gently rutted against your stomach.

“Fuck, you need to stop talking or I’ll blow it like a young boy”.

It was meant to be a threat, but it just spurred you on as you spit the mix of your fluids into your hand and brought it to his own cock again, letting him smear further precum on your naked stomach, while you tried to meet his sloppy thrusts.

“… I… can’t… don’t…”.

“But I want to see you blow” you almost pouted at that “… I think that you’d look fucking amazing letting all that bad tension on your shoulder go”.

Your hand was brought to further direct him as you adjusted so that he could rut right beneath your thighs, making you whimper lightly as he hit your own spot, making you moan lightly at the pleasurable sensation.

“And I bet that you’d taste also good” you added, and Sandor looked like he was just about to give himself a concussion with the way he threw back his head against your wall, as you had backed him up against one “… fucking salty but also clean. Never thought I’d get to swallow something that felt so good, so why don’t you give it to me? Don’t be a meanie”.

“You are a pervert” it didn’t deter you from gently squeezing your thighs around him to add further pressure “… you want me to fucking come, don’t you”.

“I thought it was the whole point” you shot back “… and I don’t want to simply see you come. I want to see you fucking pretty in those throes of passion. I want to fucking have you release and I want that fucking between my thighs, so you won’t fucking hurt your wrist and I’ll get to fucking make you lick it off once you feel better”.

Sandor looked at you shocked as the rhythm between your thighs became much stronger and you couldn’t help but shiver lightly at the thought of how it’d feel if he just angled himself a bit higher and he’d drive it home, inside of you.

“I know that you’d just pound me hard enough to seriously break my fucking headboard”.

You don’t know what spurred him on, more - your talk or the mental image of it – you just knew that his breath was now shallow.

“… I know that you could fucking leave me sore and with pretty bruises. And I’d thank you for it”.

“You are playing with fire girl” again a threat that wasn’t fully a threat “… don’t make me…”.

“I don’t think that you make requests” you shot back with a soft smile, before moving to lightly mouth against his neck “… not when you are fucking rutting against me like a brute. My fucking brute. Should have seen yourself knocking those two fuckers onto their asses…”.

Sandor’s heart hammered against your own and it wasn’t only by his thrusts that you could tell he was close, and you wanted him desperately.

Again, you tightened your thighs.

“… I thought immediately that I fucking wanted to ride that man” you went on, whispering the words right next to his ear “… think about it. How good you’d be beneath me, aching to push it further into me while I bounce on top of you. Once that wrist gets checked you are fucking me in every way you know”.

You heard him moan again and suddenly his hands were onto your hips to make you sit still so that he could fuck further his cock beneath your thighs.

“And some more”.

Maybe it was the promise of what would happen after or maybe it was the mental image.

Maybe it was the pressure of your thighs against his sensitive head or maybe it was the overwhelming praise you had sufficed him for the entirety of the session, but Sandor painted your thighs white much to your utter surprise and his own, although he didn’t let you move away as he fucked the aftershocks till he became all too sensitive and just one final – teasing – squeeze of your thighs was enough to get him to whine.

You both moved away from the other to breath, although you could tell that Sandor’s eyes were onto you, as you, instead, looked at the mess on your thighs and although it should have made you feel gross, you couldn’t help but wish to further spread it up, and inside of yourself.

Maybe once Sandor…

“Your tongue is fucking deadly” he breathed through sobs through the intensity of his orgasm “… never thought I…”.

“You are welcome” you shot back sarcastically, realizing only then just how labored was your breath as well “… by the way, how is your wrist? I didn’t think about it but…”.

“Oh sweetie…” his dark eyes didn’t promise anything good, but you weren’t scared “… I think that the best painkiller after all was an orgasm”.

my whole body screams for him istg, i can't believe i haven't read this before like mdbaldjsnd i'm shaking. this is me rn

Do Not Touch

Characters: Jim Hopper x Female Reader 

Rating: E, 18+ ONLY

Words: 10k

A/N: My take on your friend and mine: sex-pollen! I started writing this two years ago, isn’t that wild.

Tags: s3 Hop’, dub-con because of sex-pollen, fuck or die situation, Hopper being a huge dick at first, swearing, masturbation, dirty talk, thigh-riding, oral sex (F receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, doggy-style, creampies, hand on neck/throat but no choking, gentle-mdom Hop’, more submissive reader, slight praise kink, slight cum play.

Summary: A visit to Murray’s house of wonders provides a lot more than you bargained for.

Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites.

—

“… fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“They’re tapping your phones, Jim, how can you not see it?”

“‘cause it’s not fuckin’ true.”

“Oh, right, so…”

Keep reading

i don't care at all if she's a murder, i support her and those skilled hands of hers 🥰

Happy sleepover!! 🥳🎄

I pick Miss Belova + reunion, you’re out doing some Christmas shopping when an old flame crosses your path doing the job that broke you apart in the first place… (you can choose light or dark since my suggestion is already a lil specific 😭)

Bad Decisions

♡ Dark! Yelena Belova x Reader ♡

Old feelings are stirred up when you run into your ex at a Christmas store.

CW: Dub-C0n/Non-C0n, s3x in a public space, p0ssessive behavior, t0xic dynamic, d0m! Yelena

Words: 1.2k

5k Winter Sleepover

Of all your bad decisions, Yelena Belova was by far the worst one you ever made. Dating her was a rollercoaster…one you could never get off of. She was hell and heaven all at once. But mostly…hell.

It’s why the sudden sight of her sweeps you in a whirlwind of unsettling emotions.

You frown and duck your head. The telltale prowl and sharp gaze are a dead giveaway. She’s on a mission.

It breaks your heart into a million pieces, the thought of her still doing that after everything. It’s the reason you broke up. Yelena was supposed to change; she didn’t. 

You dive into an aisle with shelves brimming with Christmas decorations. You toss a forlorn glance at the wreaths, garlands and tinsels. It was supposed to be a cheerful morning. It started that way. You had plans of decorating your house, finding the perfect tree. 

As you heave a deep sigh, you rush past a row of artificial white trees. Your pace slows as you approach the fitting rooms at the other end of the gigantic store. You’re almost there. You can wait for it to pass, for her to leave. 

But you’ve barely made it to the curtain before you’re pushed into one of the fitting rooms by a slender, tragically familiar body. 

"Hey, gorgeous," Yelena greets, her accent lilting melodically. You swallow thickly as you writhe in her strong grip. She has your wrists pinned on each side of your head, a typical move for her. Although you’re usually a more willing participant in her twisted games. Her olive gaze slowly travels along your heaving frame. She then smirks. "It’s been so long."

"It’s been three months," you reply as your brows knit. 

"I really missed you," she whispers seductively, releasing one of your hands to seize your chin, drawing you to the longing etched in her eyes. 

You take a deep breath. You promised yourself you wouldn’t fall for her schemes again, her silky lies. Too often you got lost in the dark forests of her orbs and let her get away with everything…including literal murder.

You clench your jaw. 

"We’re broken up."

"Not because of me."

You glare at her accusingly.

"Actually, I’d say you killing people is a pretty big reason."

Sadness crosses her features as she exhales a long breath. She strokes the side of your face, her gaze diving in yours. 

"You know what kind of jobs I take. Trust me, the world’s better off without those scumbags in it."

"Killing is killing, Lena."

This time she rolls her eyes. You’re taken aback as she uses her strength to flip your body, slamming you against the tiny room’s mirror as you gasp.

"Always so judgemental. It’s just a job, gorgeous," she whispers dismissively, her body pressing against yours as her soft lips skim over your earshell. Your pulse escalates. You squirm, attempting to get free but Yelena keeps you trapped against her. "And don’t tell me you didn’t like the little gifts…" She lifts your arm to flick at the silver item adorning your wrist. "I see you still have my bracelet."

"I can’t do this again, Yelena," you quaver.

For a minute, she goes quiet, the air in the room growing thick with tension. She then hums and bends her head over your shoulder, silky strands of her blonde mane tickling your neck. 

Her voice lowers to a lewd rasp. 

"Are you sure?" Your heart skips a beat as nimble fingers intrude beneath your sweater dress, sneaking inside your tights to find your center. You gasp as Yelena pinches your folds through the thin cotton of your panties. "But you make such pretty sounds when you come around my fingers, gorgeous." Delectable tingles spark across your skin as she begins to tease your clit with her thumb while sinking one finger inside your treacherously wet entrance.

Your teeth tear into your lip as she pumps your hole, her slow strokes deliberate and torturous. Heated breaths leave a trail of fog on the mirror. You keen as she takes her time driving you to the edge, her cool, beringed digit lingering on your weakest, most sensitive spots. Your hips curve on their own as heat builds in your core.

An embarrassing pool of need surges, coating her finger with your juices. Your breathless pants fill the small space. She uses her other hand to circle your navel. Her hand lingers over your belly before she pulls down your tights and panties, giving her better access to your drenched core. 

"Yelena," you croak pleadingly. "Not here."

"Hm, if I remember correctly, the place never used to matter," she jeers. Her taunt sets your face ablaze. 

"You know I got a new toy just for you. I was so excited to see how it fit around your pretty pussy..." The lewd promise makes you clench around her finger. Cold laughter drips from her tongue. "...But then you sent me that horrible text."

As she dips a second finger inside, you choke on your own air. Your thoughts grow murkier, your breaths more scarce.

"You swore you’d stop..." you breathlessly mumble. 

"Hm sure you want to stop," she taunts. Your chest heaves as she thrusts inside your walls more rapidly, spreading the slickness from your cunt over your pulsing clit. The pressure becomes unbearable. Your legs quake as your head spins. "Cause it's very hard when you’re so tight around me, gorgeous."

Yelena drapes her hand over your mouth as moans unfurl from your throat, desperation radiating from the airless sounds. Each of your cries withers against her palm. "Come for me," she orders, massaging your tender cluster of nerves.

Tense knots come loose all at once. You come apart around her hand.

A high-pitched wail rattles through your throat, dwindling to a muffled groan as Yelena’s fingers squeeze around your mouth more firmly. 

You shiver and your knees quake. As Yelena releases you, you collapse into a pathetic, panting heap on the floor.

Humiliation carves a sizzling pit in your gut. A smirk tilts her pink lips as she peers down at you, sluggishly licking your arousal from her fingers.

She purrs at the taste and your cheeks burn. 

She hunkers down in front of you, the same wicked fingers she used to shatter you latching around your jaw. Her thumb caresses your quivering bottom lip as she says,

"The thing is, gorgeous, you’re mine, and you will always be mine." She plants a soft kiss on your forehead. She pauses, admiring your expression as her smug smile grows. As she rises to her feet, her tone is perkier than ever as she announces, "I’m moving back on Monday. Just need to wrap up a few loose ends."

Dread tightens in your chest. You’re not sure why you thought you’d ever get away from her and the sick hold she has on you.

Yelena opens the fitting room curtain, almost leaving but then whirls again, as if a thought just occurred to her.

"Oh and I expect you to wear that white little number I like," she adds huskily, her green gaze lighting in fond remembrance. She unleashes a girly laugh and smiles. "The one that’s see-through. We should celebrate…our reunion."

She then leaves, snapping the curtain shut and leaving you to bask in the respite, however painfully short-lived it will surely be.

I do not have a taglist. Follow @straytales and turn on notifs to know when I update. Feedback and reblogs are appreciated.

THE END I CAN'T KDLAJDKSJFKSB she's so me <3

Ok so how about Rhaenyra x Harwin’s wife!reader being gay at Court and confusing the fuck out of everyone who were expecting them to hate each other.

I just know there'd be a polycule if he had been married lol

I wanted to squeeze this into Pride month, but time was not on my side. Anyway, thank you for your request. I've altered it slightly to fit my WLW agenda, but I hope you enjoy it all the same!

Warnings: Allusions to smut, but nothing too spicy. Mentions of character death. Word count: ~700

You’d never liked to share. It had been something you had learned to do because you had to. If you wanted the affection of your Princess, you’d have to accept that the Commander of the City Watch desired her too. Rhaenyra was all too eager to please you both, and so you’d settled into an arrangement which allowed for her to entertain the both of you.

By day you were the dutiful wife of Ser Harwin Strong and lady in waiting to Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen. By night you were tangled between Rhaenyra’s sheets, a deep seated ache of satisfaction settling within you as you watched her fall apart around your tongue and fingers. That was unless it was his night, and then you’d go to sleep alone, pushing down the acrid sensation of jealousy that rose within your throat, threatening to suffocate you.

It wasn’t that you minded Rhaenyra being with Harwin; your marriage to him was purely out of convenience, an alliance to placate the Strong family’s desire for him to finally settle down, and to avert suspicion of the close nature of both your relationships with the Targaryen Princess. Who would dare to question Rhaenyra spending so much time with her lady in waiting? And who could deny your lord husband for simply wishing to be in the presence of his lady wife? You felt no envy when it came to your husband, you didn’t love him, but there was plenty when it came to Rhaenyra. She’d never fully be yours.

You had done your duty in giving Harwin children - another ruse to avoid supposition - and birthed him a son and a daughter. You loved your children dearly, but had taken no joy in the act of creating them. Harwin’s body felt wrong against your own, it was hard where Rhaenyra was soft. The familiar scent of rosewater and dragon smoke you’d come to love was nowhere to be found in his natural musk. You were grateful to have struck an agreement with him upon the birth of your second daughter that no further marital visits between the two of you were necessary.

Rhaenyra’s own children bore no resemblance to Laenor, which was both amusing and unsurprising to you. You and your husband kept her so busy, she scarcely had time to couple with her own, but you had the distinct impression that she had no desire to, and neither did he. You’d overheard the whispers at court; your children and hers could have been siblings. Essentially, they were, but that was something you’d never admit aloud, and neither would she.

It is a bright, warm day and you are basking in the rosy glow of having your Princess all to yourself. Harwin has been called away to deal with a matter at Harrenhal, leaving you and Rhaenyra alone. The pair of you have spent the afternoon enjoying the Red Keep’s gardens and sipping on light peach wine, the effects of which have made you feel carefree, lightheaded and more than a little careless in the familiarity of your interactions.

You are oblivious to the pointed stares of those seated around the dining table as you wrap your lips around Rhaenyra’s fingers, lapping the viscous liquid from the tips of them as she laughs softly while hand feeding you honeyed fruits. The sweetness envelopes your tongue, causing you to emit a satisfied “mmm”, as she watches you, a hunger that you know all too well lighting up her vibrant blue eyes.

The two of you giggle recklessly as you stumble towards her quarters, not caring who sees as you haphazardly pluck at the lacing of each other’s gowns. You make no effort to be quiet when the pair of you writhe against each other, hot and sticky, as the humid air clings to every naked curve put on display. A desperate clash of lips, teeth and tongue that leaves you both exhausted but happily sated.

It is only when the morning comes and brings with it the arrival of the news of the fire at Harrenhal that your demeanour becomes more subdued. You fight the urge to smile at the revelation of your husband’s death, horrible though it is, you have never liked to share.

this was the real end of 'you' btw

halooo! are u still taking request for love? if yes, is there a way you can do joe starting to be obsessed with reader and love got jealous and everything so she decided to stalk reader and instead of killing reader spicy things happened between them and joe thought love killed reader,,sending u hugs and kisses too because I really love ur fics

it’s you, only you

description: love is the jealous type. so when she finds out you’re joe’s new obsession, things take a turn, but definitely not how the two of you would’ve expected it.

warnings: smut (18+), oral, fingering, unprotected sex, kiss kink (i made that up), (by the beginning you’d think this was a joe goldberg fic but i promise it’s not),

pairings: love quinn x fem!reader

word count: 5114

a/n: pt.l of a fresh start you should totally read that after,

sending requester hugs, kisses, and a fic whooo hoooo!

reblogging and liking is greatly appreciated!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

you were just a random girl passing joe by in the library.

joe just had to speak to you, your interest in his favorite book of all time attracted him to you right away.

he finds himself unable to look away; it’s like joe’s eyes are superglued to you.

after a few seconds of joe’s own self-reassurance, he’s gathered the courage to talk to you.

“the count of monte cristo…one of my favorites, a great read.”

joe interrupts, nervous about your reaction. you meet him with nothing less than kindness.

“it’s such an intricate book, i don’t think i even have enough words in my vocabulary to rightfully describe it.”

joe laughs at this, taking the opportunity to walk closer to you.

and conversation quickly sparks.

you’re smart, joe can tell by the large stack of books you hold in your arms.

one thing leads to another, and you’re giving this complete stranger your phone number.

“okay joe, i’ll tell you how i liked these books when i finish!”

joe smiles as you wave your goodbyes and check out your hefty stack of books.

from there is when joe’s obsession began, despite his claims saying otherwise.

he makes it his business to visit the library the next day in hopes of seeing you again, and he’s surprised when he sees you in the special collections section, reading the back cover of a book quietly to yourself.

your lips slightly parted as you carefully read over the words, not making any sound.

your eyebrows slightly furrow as you cross over unfamiliar words, trying to understand the particularly complex passage.

you’re delicate, joe like this about you.

you turn and notice joe’s eyes, and your smile immediately lifts at the sight of the familiar man standing only a few feet from you.

joe can see your glance from the corner of his eye, but he tries not to react. waiting to see if you’d make the first move.

you do.

“hey there, joe. surprised to see you here again.”

you say huskily yet cheerily, and joe’s eyes fall upon you. a developing smile, biting at the corner of his lips.

he lifts up a book, flashing it at you.

“trying to debate if this is a good read.”

joe replies, his eyes flashing from you to the book.

“have you read it?”

your eyes squint as you try to catch sight of the title, but once you do, they brighten.

“i have!”

“how’d you like it?”

you think for a moment, eyeing the book and squinting your eyes in thought.

“not really my favorite, i found the plot too predictable and slow.”

joe doesn’t particularly care for the book either, and it’s like the two of you were a match made in heaven.

you go scrambling inside your bookbag, joe watches as discreetly as joe can while your shirt droops.

revealing a small glimpse of your braless breast.

his thoughts trail off in all the wrong directions, yet they feel so right.

“you should try this one! it’s my own personal copy, i thought the characters were well written and felt relatable.”

hearing you talk has quickly become joe’s new favorite thing.

joe meets your hand as you hold the book out, giving it to him. unsurprisingly, he’s read that book as well, but he isn’t about to deflate your obvious excitement.

unfortunately for you, you’ve become joe’s new hobby.

unfortunately for you, joe takes pride in his hobbies, which means immediate research of all things, you.

for joe, you aren’t hard at all to find. over the years, he can rightfully say his skills have improved, and with only an hour's time, joe has nearly found out everything.

you went to school for four years to get your bachelor of fine arts degree. an achievement you hold very closely to your heart, joe was right to assume you were smart.

you’re an only child on your mom’s side, but your father has five other kids with a woman nearly the same age as you.

you don’t keep in contact with your father, joe understands why.

you live in a townhouse across town, inherited by your late uncle.

joe finds out that you’ve recently gone through a breakup with your girlfriend of three years.

why? because she cheated on you.

with her best friend’s grandfather.

you’re on three different dating sites, but it’s quite obvious you’re not looking for anything more than some…fun.

joe understands this; he understands you.

so there’s no surprise that after joe’s wife, love, is fast asleep in bed after a heated argument, he’s wide awake and prepared to make his way to you.

not to spy of course, but to look out for you.

joe isn’t a stalker.

the drive to your house is quiet and much longer than what joe expected, but that could also be because of all his contained excitement.

finally, joe is at your house, parked a block away, so you won’t be alerted. you don’t seem to like blinds or curtains, and that allows joe to see your entire house.

every room in your house from the front seems to be pristine; he’s never seen a neater living room.

his eyes widen in delight when they fall upon you, in all your glory.

joe watches as you press a small vibrator to your cunt, he can’t look away. your back arches against your bed, and it’s like a sight he’s almost never seen before.

your moans send shivers down his spine, like music in his ears.

you even wash your hands after, joe thinks he’s in heaven.

you fall asleep, and joe makes it his business to grab a pair of your underwear, but that’s after he climbs through your open living-room window.

joe promises to himself to scold you about that if the two of you get any closer.

you’re quite a heavy sleeper. joe is astonished when he drops a book of yours on the floor accidentally and you don’t stir.

joe leaves your house with way too many souvenirs than he should have.

he absolutely cannot wait until he can see your face, and your smile again.

until then he must wait.

joe comes home, and love can’t keep her hands off of him. there are no questions asked as to where he’s been, nothing but tongue and cheek.

love possessively claws at joe’s back, her teeth tugging at his lips, and it’s almost like she knows.

all joe thinks about is you, and he just so happens to have your panties in hand. sniffling the garments, his wife unaware.

joe slept like a baby that night.

only thinking about you, and how excited he is to see you again.

it’s all he can think about, even when he’s outside taking a walk with his wife and child.

an activity that love had greatly insisted on.

the sun is out, the wind blows, creating a nice breeze, and the scenery will be good for the baby.

love insists.

joe is examining the town as they walk when love begins talking.

her voice is so calm that it’s chilling.

“where were you last night, joe?”

joe looks to love, her eyes are already on him. her lips are pursed, and it’s obvious she’s upset.

“huh?”

joe replies, treading carefully.

“i’m not an idiot, joe.”

“love, i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

she pushes the stroller slower, emphasizing her response. love doesn’t exactly scare joe, but she can be scary.

which means love scares joe.

or maybe her impulsivity does.

“you went god knows where last night, came back and finally fucked me for the first time in six months. what is that, a coincidence?”

joe can’t find his words, his eyes are wide while he glares at love as if she’s being crazy.

“love, what?”

joe’s stalling and fake confusion doesn’t help his case. this only makes love angrier.

“don’t fucking lie to me.”

love glares at joe, her hands tight around the handlebars of the stroller.

he can’t lie for much longer, joe knows his wife, and she’s far from stupid.

"”fine! i met a girl, she was nice, and i liked that she flirted. what are we doing, policing each other's minds? are we not allowed to have a simple, fleeting fantasy?”

joe looks around in exasperation.

“oh, don’t give me that.”

love scoffs.

“i know you. there’s nothing simple about it when someone gets stuck in your mind. i don’t even care if you fucked her!”

love has completely stopped pushing the stroller by now. she’s more than upset, more than angry.

her eyes are wide, and watery, but she’s not crying.

“sounds like you care.”

joe retorts.

“are you obsessed with her?”

love questions knowingly.

“it’s not like that.”

back.

“really?”

and.

“yeah.”

forth.

“you sure?”

back and forth.

“i’m sure, because it was like that with you, love. i married you!”

“then who the fuck is she?”

“some girl at the library. a nobody, love, it’s you. only you.”

joe seethes, practically begging for love to be rational.

because it’s nothing.

“fine.”

love sighs, and then she’s pushing the stroller, but it seems like she’s in no mood for this walk as they circle back to the house.

joe and love go their separate ways in the house.

love puts henry down for a nap, then decides to finally unpack her baking tools.

she’s stressed, and it’s much needed.

joe is in the backyard, prying for more information about you. no updates on your social media, and it’s not like he can check on you, love is already suspicious.

only it doesn’t seem like that will matter

down in the basement, love finds a box of your personal belongings stashed in a vent.

only you.

she picks up the slightly heavy box, ready to show it to joe. watching as he stammers out a bullshit excuse.

love rushes to the living room, where joe now preoccupied reading his book. she clears her throat, but joe shows no sign of moving, so instead she drops the box into his lap.

the stolen items jostling in the box as joe startles. he realizes what lies in his lap and immediately looks up at love, who’s fuming.

“what the fuck is that.”

love gestures to the box, her eyes moving frantically from joe to the items and back again.

“joe answer me, or so help me god, i’ll kill every girl i see in that fucking library.”

joe can’t figure out if love is bluffing, and he’s unwilling to find out.

“okay, love, okay.”

he huffs, taking out each item one by one.

“i lied, i’m obsessed.”

joe confesses, but only to calm love. he’s not admitting anything willingly.

“good.”

love responds simply, and it’s not at all what joe expected her reaction to be.

she walks away as if the conversation simply never happened, and this frightens joe.

it appears as though love has a few tricks up her sleeve as well, as she decides to search joe’s laptop for any sight of you that he may have left there.

luckily for love, joe hasn’t erased his tracks, and the amount of information joe has lying around could be enough to write a book, and its sequel.

love knows from joe that you visit the library pretty often; that is where she plans on meeting you.

meeting the woman who stole the attention of her husband, just by existing.

love is jealous, but she’d never admit it.

henry is taken care of by his grandmother, and love takes the time to visit the library.

she’s hoping that you’ll be there.

love knows exactly what you look like, what your name is, and the particular section of books you like to hang around.

this visit should be easy, and it is.

love instantly catches sight of you.

sitting alone, face shoved in a stack of books. it’s heartwarming knowing you prefer the physicality of paper pages.

you’re busy in your own space, headphones propped over your ears, and your head bobbing slightly to the music.

love immediately knows—it’s you.

it’s not until love sees you in person that she realizes why you look so familiar.

you very frequently visit her bakery, always settling down quietly at the farthest table. pastry in hand with a cup of coffee to wash it down.

you’re kind, you make small talk, and you give compliments good enough to make the most stubborn person smile.

so, no killing you anytime soon.

love decides then to leave the library, and for a while, the entire encounter crosses her mind.

things are still tense between love and joe but honestly, she doesn’t seem to mind.

wrapping herself up with work and henry to the point of not caring about anything else.

it’s a particularly hot california day when love sees you again, quite a while after the last time.

love struggles to carry the abundance of bags she has from shopping for groceries for the bakery. she’s so frustrated, that practically anyone could tell by the exasperated look on her face.

even more frustration comes with the fact that love still has so many more bags left.

that’s where you come in, like love’s knight in shining armor.

a helpful jogger.

“can i help you with that?”

love is thankful, relief washing over her as the sun blares down on her skin.

leaving a slight sheen of sweat in its place.

love tries to help you, help her, but you don’t allow her to. a kind smile on your face as you push love gently to lean against her car.

a kind gesture that you seem to think nothing off.

your hands linger on her waist, and love finds herself enjoying the touch way more than she should.

you’re very subtly flirting.

love likes that about you.

she finds herself flustered, still thinking about your touch on her skin.

“um, can i get you anything? it’s really hot out, and you really didn’t have to help me.”

you smile at love.

“sure, i’d love that.”

love could sit and talk to you for hours, and that’s exactly what the two of you do.

even when love gets a rush of customers in dire need of ice cream and Italian ice, you’re still sitting patiently waiting for her to come back to you.

unbeknownst to love, quite a few times do you find yourself staring at this beautiful girl you’re so elated to finally be conversing with.

“i really can’t thank you enough for helping me earlier.”

love begins, fiddling with a cardboard treat box.

“here, take this.”

love pushes the treat box your way. inside is a cool strawberry cheesecake, waiting to be savored.

you shuffle inside your pockets, finding cash to stuff inside the tip-jar.

she pulls the jar away, grinning widely at you.

“love.”

you warn.

“it’s a gift. free of charge.”

love teases, but you only gape at her.

“you can pay the next time you come.”

love saying that only solidifies your thoughts of visiting again.

“only if you’re here the next time.”

you tease, eyes gazing longingly at love.

“you know it.”

and with that you’re leaving, box in bag, bag in hand. already thinking about what you and love will talk about the next time you visit her bakery.

each day after your first encounter with love, the two of you proceed to see one another at least every other day for the rest of the month.

it’s like a breath of fresh air for love to be around someone she knows wants to be around her too.

you walk into ‘a fresh tart’ with a bouquet of beautiful, bright red roses in hand.

love knows already they’re for her, you gave her roses the other day, and if this goes on for any longer, she’ll have enough to make a garden in no time.

“pretty flowers for a pretty girl.”

you grin, satchel over your shoulder, handing love the roses as she reaches out for them.

smelling the fresh scent of fresh flowers.

“i still have the ones you gave me three days ago.”

love exchanges the fake flowers resting in a vase on a table for the ones you’ve given her.

“i think they enjoy your company better than the flower shop.”

real flowers are such a difficult maintenance task, but love doesn’t complain, and you already do so well with the upkeep of the two other bouquets resting on the other tables.

you’re already seated at your usual table with your books laid out. a flustered and frustrated look on your face that love has never seen before as you glare at your phone.

she quietly seats herself across from you. light blue apron slipping from the tie around her back.

immediately, you snap out of it.

“what’s the matter?”

love questions with care, she pouts. a habit she’d quickly picked up from little henry.

you switch the topic, and for a while, your comment makes love forget about her question.

you flip your phone upside down, but the harsh buzz on the table still rings out.

love continues talking, but it’s obvious you’re distracted.

“something’s wrong, what’s the matter?”

you huff, your eyes closing momentarily, but love grabs both your hands as reassurance.

“it’s my ex. she cheated on me and i broke it off, i forgave her for a while and we remained friends, but things got weird a bit ago when she tried to make a move on me.”

you sign, squeezing love’s hand.

“it’s shitty talking about her right now, i’m sorry.”

“it’s fine, if it’s bothering you, you should talk about it.”

she gives you a toothy, friendly grin, and you return one. kissing the back of her hand as you hold it.

things like that you do so easily, as if it doesn’t mean the world to love.

“no really, i’m here to talk to you. how’s my lovey doing?”

nicknames like that, makes love’s heart swoon.

love peers fondly at you, her head craned as she smiles.

“you’re very flirty.”

love admits and you laugh.

“i’m not!”

“you are! not that i’m complaining, it’s sweet…and sexy.”

love chides, testing the waters.

making her move, a frequent event the two of you flicker between. thankfully you're in the mood to reciprocate.

“oh really?”

love nods.

“mhm.”

“well how about we close the bakery up for the day, go to my house, and really see how flirty i can be?”

love has to purse her lips to suppress the moan she desperately wants to let out.

love doesn’t hesitate for one moment. she’s locking up the bakery, and driving with you to your house.

your hand resting on love’s lap for the entire ride. keeping love aware of how real this is.

she has you, love has you.

love wastes no time, and the two of you were a desperate, pent up mess from the sexual frustration the both of you had been treating the other with.

your hands are on love’s waist as you close your front door, pressing your back against it as love captures your lips.

she looks so pretty, eyes low and blue. trying to pull her revealing pink-top off as quickly as she can.

your lips are pressed on her neck, suckling love marks against the flesh relentlessly.

your hands tug at her long brown hair, craning her neck for more space and she moans loudly as your hands roam her body.

it’s nearly impossible to get to the bedroom without a second of you touching her. love hurriedly pulling off your shirt, and it’s like everything must happen in under 5 seconds. 

your shirt is the next article of clothing to come off, leaving love and you in only a bra and pants. 

shoes being left neglected near the front door, long ago. 

love is breathless when you push her onto the bed, she’s been here like this multiple times before, but every time feels brand-new with you. 

there’s not a second your lips aren’t on hers. 

your lips meet with love’s intimately, in matrimony. her arms wrapped around your neck, holding you close. love could never find this touch elsewhere. 

this resides with you, and you only. 

love knows that now. 

she’s not ashamed to admit how quickly obsessed she’s become with you. 

the two of you met naturally, and that’s all that matters. 

without removing love’s jeans, you stuff your hand into them. tucking your hand under her thin underwear, feeling for the slick coming from love’s wet cunt. 

you’re amazing at working her up. 

love’s evident desire for you, hissing out curses of your name as you flick lightly at her clit. 

giving not too much, but enough to leave her like putty in your hands. 

love struggles to continue kissing you back, her lips faltering for just a second, but yours are already attached to her neck by then. 

love’s moans unabashedly fill the room, along with her breathy sighs. you fingers working like magic as you tease. 

“so pretty like this.”

you whisper softly into love’s ear, she whimpers in response. desperate to connect your lips again, embarrassed by her own moans of pleasure. 

“c’mon, let me hear you.”

love is stubborn, and if she wants something, she’s getting it. 

your lips go from lingering over hers, teasing, but by now you should know better. 

in a split second, love is pulling on your collar to kiss you. 

love’s breath becomes shaky as you slowly thrust two fingers into her soaked cunt. she’s looking up at you, as if she’s ravishing your figure with just her eyes. 

you have love seated, she’s unable to move under your hold, and quite frankly, she doesn’t even want to. 

her lips are hot, and soft. undecided on whether they want to nibble or gasp. 

the tension is at an all time high, you pump your fingers skillfully. rubbing up against her sweet spot to make love’s knees buckle even with sitting. 

her pussy flutters around your fingers, and you know you’re getting somewhere. 

your opposite hand snugly placed on love’s waist. while her hands pull you closer, she wants your lips but air is needed. 

the two of you pull away completely breathless, yet your fingers continue their movements, which nearly knocks the wind out of love. 

“right there, don’t stop.”

she’s squirming as your fingers plunge inside of her, pushing them deep, right up to your knuckles. 

you curl them perfectly, pressing that lovely spot inside of her feverishly. 

over and over and over again.

she’s so helplessly wet that the sounds of her slick cunt nearly overpower her pathetic whimpers. 

schlick, schlick, schlick. 

you shamelessly pump your fingers, listening and watching as love only gets louder for you. 

you’re too good, that it’s almost too much. 

love’s pussy soaks your fingers with her release as she leans into your body. 

absolutely spent. 

she’s heavily exhaling, her brown hair ruffled, and she looks like the prettiest mess ever.

a pretty mess, you made. 

when love finally returns home, it’s way past midnight. joe sits on the couch waiting, and when he hears the front door open, he races to the door. 

“she’s dead, isn’t she?”

joe questions, but love isn’t having it. she doesn’t give her husband the time of day of a response. 

the disheveled hair, bruises, and wrinkled clothes don’t help to convince joe of the opposite. 

for all he knows. love finally found you, slit your throat, and buried you six feet deep in a hole in the forest. 

she walks upstairs, leaving joe thinking you’re dead, and why not. 

love will get to have you all to herself. 

in the short amount of time you’ve come to meet love, you’ve single-handedly turned her life around for the better. 

she’s the happiest she’s ever been, and having the best sex she’s ever had. 

each day passes with love falling harder, and harder for you. 

the more that happens, the less she seems to care for joe. 

his obsession for you had backfired, but love wasn’t going to let that happen to herself. 

she had a plan, love was going to keep you forever. 

she’d show joe just how wrapped around her finger she had you. 

love straddles her husband, leaning in for a kiss to which joe doesn’t deny. he takes a sharp intake of breath and love rolls off of him, revealing a needle she had pressed into his side.

“hey, it’s okay. relax, don’t fight it.”

love says quietly, faking sympathy. 

she caresses joe’s face as he looks around in panic, his ability to move becoming increasingly difficult.

joe rolls off the bed with some of the movement he has left, he groans loudly as he falls face first onto the floor.

“you made this easy, joe. you’re the problem, i tried. it’s not me.”

love pushes joe under the bed, she struggles, but ultimately he fits snuggly underneath.

“it’s not me.”

she repeats quietly. 

joe sits tucked away for no one to see.

“you’re gonna lay there and listen while your wife fucks the girl you met at the library. decided to keep her, i can see why you like her.”

from under the bed, joe can see love smirking down at him. 

it’s degrading, he’s embarrassed, frustrated. 

love was going to put a show on for joe. 

only he wouldn’t be able to see it, that would be too much of a luxury for him. 

love places henry’s baby monitor beside joe’s head.

“want you to hear this.”

love takes the other monitor, walking downstairs and placing the item on an end table as she waits for you to ring the doorbell.

which doesn’t take long, and you’re filled with worry when love opens the door.

“love? is everything okay? you texted me very frantically.”

love steps aside, and you walk into the house, confused.

love closes the front door, pushing you against it. her lips immediately attack your neck, and you can’t help but to lean into her touch. 

“just wanted to get you here, wanted to spend some time with you.”

love replies.    

you huff out a relieved laugh, holding love close. pecking her lips, way too many times.  

“could've told me what you wanted, i would’ve rushed to you all the same.”

now that your worry has faded, you’re finally able to take in love’s appearance. 

she’s dressed in a tight-fitting sage top with a flowery slitted blue skirt. the sleeves slip down her shoulder, but she uses it to tease you. 

“i like this, a lot.”

you hum, hiking up the skirt with a gentle hand. 

“want you upstairs.”

love compromises, pursing her lips and making deep eye-contact. 

regardless of joe listening in, it’s obvious love wants you. 

very badly does she want you. 

“lead me.”

your hands brush themselves into love’s neatly styled brown hair, cascading over her shoulders.  the rough treatment has her already moaning for you. 

a genuine reaction. 

she doesn’t need to fake how good you make her feel. 

you chase love giddily as she runs upstairs to the bedroom, your hand in hers. blue skirt, trailing after her. 

you and love stop beside the bed, she’s pulling at your clothes frantically. 

unbuttoning and unzipping any parts of clothing that might need it. 

you bide on love’s timing, moving at her fast-pace. she’s barely able to keep her hands off of you, lips nibbling at the lobe of your ear. 

whispering sweet nothings loud enough for joe to hear. her hands fondling any exposed part she could get to. 

you’re then pushing love onto her bed, she eyes you with pure desire. 

hiking up her long skirt to allow you a small peek, you’re greedy, and of course it’s not enough. 

you want love, to taste her, to fuck her into absolute oblivion, just as you knew she wanted you to. 

love’s peep-show reveals the lack of undergarments she sports under her outfit. love’s nipples harden, pressing against the tight shirt. 

you catch a glimpse as the shirt slips from her shoulders, pink nipples on display. 

you hold love close, swirling your tongue against the small bud. she moans softly, the stimulation being more pleasurable than love would’ve expected. 

her eyes close tightly, when you fully pull her shirt down. forcing the fabric around her hips as a belt, leaving love’s chest fully exposed for you. 

love gasps as you surprise her with a gentle yet harsh bite of her breast, fondling the other with your opposite hand. 

“please.”

love begs, and while she’s not normally the type to beg, you seem to have changed that mindset. 

“tell me what you want, love.”

you tease. 

“fuck me.”

she whines breathlessly, holding your head against her breast as you lick, suck and bite. 

“how do you want me?”

you question, meeting love’s gaze. she shivers, you’re giving her a choice. 

“taste me.”

love decides, crawling to the middle of the bed so she could push your head between her thighs. 

where she wants you most. 

you obey the needy girl, love’s skirt wrinkled by now as it pools at her hips. 

her cunt drools with arousal for you, she’s so incredibly sensitive that a single lick from you skillful tongue could send her over the edge. 

you’re not one to deny love of what she wants, you don’t hesitate for a second to spread love’s legs for you. 

she slouches on her forearms, carefully watching your movements. 

you take a swift lick of love’s pussy, spreading her folds to expose the slick. love's hips attempt to buck against your face, but you’re pushing her down. 

“be still, or i’ll stop. you know better.”

love whines as you blow softly at her budding clit. 

“you like that?”

the girl simply nods, too overwhelmed with pleasure to answer. your tongue licking at her cunt, a distraction that she won’t at all complain about. 

“tell me, love.”

you insist, halting your movements. making love shudder, whimpering at the loss of your mouth. 

“i like that.”

love blushes, stammering over her own words as you lick at her wet cunt. your fingers tracing tight circles onto her clit. 

“good girl.”

joe is forced into a paralyzed standstill. 

unable to talk or move, only able to listen. 

a problem that love will inevitably have to deal with later on. right now she couldn’t care less, too wrapped up in your heaven-sent touch.

you and love. 

it’s only you. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

my honest reaction fr omg 😭😭😭

"I can think of a more fun way you can thank me." + "has anybody else ever made you feel like this?" with mob!bucky

oh, mob!bucky, how I've missed you <3 this turned out pretty um. fucked up tbh

warnings: smut (18+ only!!), oral m receiving and creampie, daddy kink, public sex/exhibitionism, hair pulling, established (sugar daddy) relationship

100 random prompts - send me a number and a character!

"And what do you say when I buy you something pretty, baby?" he purred as he ran his hands over your exposed back-- funny how the dresses he bought you always showed so much skin...

"Thank you, daddy," you cooed in return, bending down to kiss him on the cheek, and he smirked as he spread his legs a bit wider in his chair.

"Doesn't she look great, boys?" he prompted the men around him, who nodded and hollered in agreement. Sometimes it could be hard to get Bucky alone, with all the guards and 'employees' of various ranking always around him. Of course, you had him to yourself every night as long as you were willing to wait for those late night drinking and poker sessions to end-- which you were, you were used to the way he lived. And you were used to the attention of his colleagues, as well, because he loved to show you off to anyone he could.

What you weren't used to was him reaching down to pet your legs suggestively like this, in front of everyone.

"You know, if you wanna thank me," he continued with a raised eyebrow, "I can think of a much more fun way."

You cleared your throat nervously, glancing at the men around you. "O-of course, daddy-- when you come to the penthouse tonight, I'll thank you all night long."

The men snickered, but Bucky wasn't satisfied. "You can thank me here," he decided. "I don't have anything to hide from them."

Your heart raced, but fuck, it turned you on, too. Especially that look in his eyes, you would've done anything he wanted right then. But you wanted to be sure you weren't misunderstanding his intentions. Leaning in, you mumbled quietly: "Do you really want me to... in front of them?"

"Yes," he answered, looking up at you expectantly; and so you kissed him as you started to sink down onto your knees in front of the chair.

Already there were some strong reactions from the men watching you: cheers, laughs, even clapping. It made you feel... several emotions. It made you fucking wet.

You broke the kiss when you were fully on the ground, running your hands up his legs until he moved his hips forward for you to open his belt. "Can I take it out for you, daddy?" you asked sweetly, and he laughed as he nodded.

"Of course, baby," he hummed.

You didn't waste any time-- you freed his cock from his suit trousers, and dove in to lick a long stripe from the base of it to his tip. He got a bit harder in your grasp, putting a hand on the back of your head to guide you to swallow him down.

"Fuck," he groaned, "she's got such a sweet little mouth..."

Your hips shifted, something sexy and filthy about the way he was talking to them instead of you. But, he did address you next.

"Show them how you can take it all, sweetheart," he encouraged, "show them what daddy taught you."

You bobbed your head lower until your lips were at his base, and his tip was pressing into your throat. They made sounds of awe and amusement, watching him hold your head down and fuck up into your mouth until you gagged loudly. He held you down for one more moment before letting you breathe again-- you pulled back and looked up at him as you sucked in air sharply. "Is that good, daddy?"

"Yes, babydoll," he assured, "you can keep going."

You got back to it, though he gave you a little more control this time, and you used it to bring your hand around him and stroke the rest of his cock while you sucked him. You still deepthroated him when you could, just with breaks in between; all while he bragged about you to his men.

"See how obedient she is?" he announced smugly. "She'll do anything for me. Such a good little girl for daddy."

They certainly seemed to agree: you heard someone say "I bet she is" and someone else notice "she really knows how to suck a cock, huh?"

Just when you thought you were doing well, Bucky grabbed you by your hair and pulled you off of him; before you could ask what he was doing or if you'd done something wrong, he stood up and bent you over the table roughly, slamming you down hard enough to make the poker chips and cards bounce. "Sorry, baby," he growled as you whined, "you can't get daddy all worked up like that and not expect any consequences."

He was still pinning you down by your neck with one hand while the other pulled up the bottom of your dress to expose your ass-- no panties, just like he'd told you when you left to try on the new dress. He slammed his cock inside you, making you cry and arch your back as he fucked you brutally against the table. Some of the men were still seated around it, and you shut your eyes tight so you wouldn't have to make eye contact with any of them.

"She's such a good girl for me," he praised again, "always ready to take my cock. Isn't that right, dollface? You let daddy fuck you whenever he wants?"

You nodded as you whimpered, and the men laughed. "She's so cute," one of them noticed, "no wonder he can't keep his hands off her."

"And she likes it when daddy gets rough," Bucky added with a low laugh, and you moaned louder. "Uh huh, I know, babydoll-- you love being mine so much..."

"Daddy!" you yelped as he started to pump even faster-- he certainly wasn't pulling any punches. Probably because he knew what it did to you. "Daddy, m'gonna come!"

"See how easy she is?" he smiled. "Fuck, she can't help it, she just loves getting used so much. You can come, baby, nice and loud so everybody can hear you."

"Fuck, daddy, fuck!" you moaned, legs shaking as the feeling hit you hard and sudden. You hadn't expected at all how easily you would come from this-- if anything you thought it would be harder with all these eyes on you.

You would've collapsed if you weren't being held against that table by his painfully-tight grip on your hair. "Fuck, she squeezes me so good when she comes," Bucky growled, "this cunt really knows how to treat a cock."

He seemed to be going even deeper inside of you, if that was possible, and you felt your own wetness starting to run down your legs.

"I'm close, baby, I'm fuckin' close," he warned with another tug on your hair. "You want daddy to come?"

"Yes," you whimpered.

"You want daddy's come deep inside you?"

"Yes!"

"Fuck, fuck," he groaned, and all at once he stopped, grunting through his teeth as he filled you as deep as he could go. "Fuck, babydoll... god, look how pretty you looking getting filled with come... doesn't she look pretty, boys?"

He slowly pulled out of you, but put both his hands on your ass to spread it out and get a better view of your hole.

"Damn, look't that," he praised, "can't hardly tell daddy just beat you up, you're still so tight. Push it out, honey, I want them to see how good daddy filled you."

Your face was so hot now you honestly thought you might melt-- and you kept your eyes shut tight to hide from the embarrassment-- but you heard the men leaning and looking around you to get a glimpse as you flexed your muscles to push his come out of you.

You felt a thick drop run down from your opening, and they all reacted aloud. "Good, sweetie, keep going," Bucky praised, and you whimpered as you pushed more and an even bigger wave oozed out of you.

The men couldn't keep their mouths shut now. "Damn, that's a lot of come." "She really does whatever he says." "Look at it running down her legs, what a whore." "You can tell she likes it too, look-- fucking slut."

Bucky guided you to stand up straight again, pulling your dress down to cover your ass. You blinked your eyes open, though you couldn't be too surprised as the lascivious stares of all the men in front of you. "You did so good, baby," Bucky praised softly in your ear, holding you close from behind. "They all want you so fucking bad, hm? But whose are you, doll?"

"Yours, daddy," you answered weakly.

"That's right, sweetheart," he cooed as he kissed you on the cheek, "you belong to me."

my honest reaction fr omg 😭😭😭

"I can think of a more fun way you can thank me." + "has anybody else ever made you feel like this?" with mob!bucky

oh, mob!bucky, how I've missed you <3 this turned out pretty um. fucked up tbh

warnings: smut (18+ only!!), oral m receiving and creampie, daddy kink, public sex/exhibitionism, hair pulling, established (sugar daddy) relationship

100 random prompts - send me a number and a character!

"And what do you say when I buy you something pretty, baby?" he purred as he ran his hands over your exposed back-- funny how the dresses he bought you always showed so much skin...

"Thank you, daddy," you cooed in return, bending down to kiss him on the cheek, and he smirked as he spread his legs a bit wider in his chair.

"Doesn't she look great, boys?" he prompted the men around him, who nodded and hollered in agreement. Sometimes it could be hard to get Bucky alone, with all the guards and 'employees' of various ranking always around him. Of course, you had him to yourself every night as long as you were willing to wait for those late night drinking and poker sessions to end-- which you were, you were used to the way he lived. And you were used to the attention of his colleagues, as well, because he loved to show you off to anyone he could.

What you weren't used to was him reaching down to pet your legs suggestively like this, in front of everyone.

"You know, if you wanna thank me," he continued with a raised eyebrow, "I can think of a much more fun way."

You cleared your throat nervously, glancing at the men around you. "O-of course, daddy-- when you come to the penthouse tonight, I'll thank you all night long."

The men snickered, but Bucky wasn't satisfied. "You can thank me here," he decided. "I don't have anything to hide from them."

Your heart raced, but fuck, it turned you on, too. Especially that look in his eyes, you would've done anything he wanted right then. But you wanted to be sure you weren't misunderstanding his intentions. Leaning in, you mumbled quietly: "Do you really want me to... in front of them?"

"Yes," he answered, looking up at you expectantly; and so you kissed him as you started to sink down onto your knees in front of the chair.

Already there were some strong reactions from the men watching you: cheers, laughs, even clapping. It made you feel... several emotions. It made you fucking wet.

You broke the kiss when you were fully on the ground, running your hands up his legs until he moved his hips forward for you to open his belt. "Can I take it out for you, daddy?" you asked sweetly, and he laughed as he nodded.

"Of course, baby," he hummed.

You didn't waste any time-- you freed his cock from his suit trousers, and dove in to lick a long stripe from the base of it to his tip. He got a bit harder in your grasp, putting a hand on the back of your head to guide you to swallow him down.

"Fuck," he groaned, "she's got such a sweet little mouth..."

Your hips shifted, something sexy and filthy about the way he was talking to them instead of you. But, he did address you next.

"Show them how you can take it all, sweetheart," he encouraged, "show them what daddy taught you."

You bobbed your head lower until your lips were at his base, and his tip was pressing into your throat. They made sounds of awe and amusement, watching him hold your head down and fuck up into your mouth until you gagged loudly. He held you down for one more moment before letting you breathe again-- you pulled back and looked up at him as you sucked in air sharply. "Is that good, daddy?"

"Yes, babydoll," he assured, "you can keep going."

You got back to it, though he gave you a little more control this time, and you used it to bring your hand around him and stroke the rest of his cock while you sucked him. You still deepthroated him when you could, just with breaks in between; all while he bragged about you to his men.

"See how obedient she is?" he announced smugly. "She'll do anything for me. Such a good little girl for daddy."

They certainly seemed to agree: you heard someone say "I bet she is" and someone else notice "she really knows how to suck a cock, huh?"

Just when you thought you were doing well, Bucky grabbed you by your hair and pulled you off of him; before you could ask what he was doing or if you'd done something wrong, he stood up and bent you over the table roughly, slamming you down hard enough to make the poker chips and cards bounce. "Sorry, baby," he growled as you whined, "you can't get daddy all worked up like that and not expect any consequences."

He was still pinning you down by your neck with one hand while the other pulled up the bottom of your dress to expose your ass-- no panties, just like he'd told you when you left to try on the new dress. He slammed his cock inside you, making you cry and arch your back as he fucked you brutally against the table. Some of the men were still seated around it, and you shut your eyes tight so you wouldn't have to make eye contact with any of them.

"She's such a good girl for me," he praised again, "always ready to take my cock. Isn't that right, dollface? You let daddy fuck you whenever he wants?"

You nodded as you whimpered, and the men laughed. "She's so cute," one of them noticed, "no wonder he can't keep his hands off her."

"And she likes it when daddy gets rough," Bucky added with a low laugh, and you moaned louder. "Uh huh, I know, babydoll-- you love being mine so much..."

"Daddy!" you yelped as he started to pump even faster-- he certainly wasn't pulling any punches. Probably because he knew what it did to you. "Daddy, m'gonna come!"

"See how easy she is?" he smiled. "Fuck, she can't help it, she just loves getting used so much. You can come, baby, nice and loud so everybody can hear you."

"Fuck, daddy, fuck!" you moaned, legs shaking as the feeling hit you hard and sudden. You hadn't expected at all how easily you would come from this-- if anything you thought it would be harder with all these eyes on you.

You would've collapsed if you weren't being held against that table by his painfully-tight grip on your hair. "Fuck, she squeezes me so good when she comes," Bucky growled, "this cunt really knows how to treat a cock."

He seemed to be going even deeper inside of you, if that was possible, and you felt your own wetness starting to run down your legs.

"I'm close, baby, I'm fuckin' close," he warned with another tug on your hair. "You want daddy to come?"

"Yes," you whimpered.

"You want daddy's come deep inside you?"

"Yes!"

"Fuck, fuck," he groaned, and all at once he stopped, grunting through his teeth as he filled you as deep as he could go. "Fuck, babydoll... god, look how pretty you looking getting filled with come... doesn't she look pretty, boys?"

He slowly pulled out of you, but put both his hands on your ass to spread it out and get a better view of your hole.

"Damn, look't that," he praised, "can't hardly tell daddy just beat you up, you're still so tight. Push it out, honey, I want them to see how good daddy filled you."

Your face was so hot now you honestly thought you might melt-- and you kept your eyes shut tight to hide from the embarrassment-- but you heard the men leaning and looking around you to get a glimpse as you flexed your muscles to push his come out of you.

You felt a thick drop run down from your opening, and they all reacted aloud. "Good, sweetie, keep going," Bucky praised, and you whimpered as you pushed more and an even bigger wave oozed out of you.

The men couldn't keep their mouths shut now. "Damn, that's a lot of come." "She really does whatever he says." "Look at it running down her legs, what a whore." "You can tell she likes it too, look-- fucking slut."

Bucky guided you to stand up straight again, pulling your dress down to cover your ass. You blinked your eyes open, though you couldn't be too surprised as the lascivious stares of all the men in front of you. "You did so good, baby," Bucky praised softly in your ear, holding you close from behind. "They all want you so fucking bad, hm? But whose are you, doll?"

"Yours, daddy," you answered weakly.

"That's right, sweetheart," he cooed as he kissed you on the cheek, "you belong to me."

i need that brother-in-law like i need to breath. harwin breakbeds

Lessons In Pleasure (Aegon x Reader x Harwin)

Summary: Your marriage to Aegon was as good as expected, but you wanted a little more...passion. Rhaenyra, ever the dutiful sister knew just who to send to give your husband a few lessons in pleasing a woman.

TW: Minors DNI, She/Her pronouns, afab reader, Harwin Strong and his horse cock, Rhaenyra being the best sister, Aegon (kinda) getting cucked and liking it, fingering, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, praise kink, p in v sex, Harwin showing Aegon how to fuck, canon-typical incest, twin/targcest, they are happy families in this, use of High Valyrian.

Reader has more Hightower coded features but isn't explicitly described.

Words: 5088 (yes...I know)

THANK YOU to @legitalicat for not only trusting me with this idea but betaing for me too! You're an angel!

Hāedar = little sister

Valonquar = little brother

Ābrazȳrys = wife

Valzȳrys = husband

Rhaenyra was grateful to have been given the chance to decide on her own husband. When originally presented to her, she was disgusted by the idea of marriage all together. But when Harwin Strong made his affections for her clear, she knew that was the man she would marry.  

After almost two decades of marriage and having three boys together, Rhaenyra could safely say she had chosen well. Not only was Harwin an amazing man and wonderful father to their boys, but he kept her well satisfied. The man was nearly solid muscle and hung like a horse. In their times alone, it was not unusual for his head to be placed between her thighs or for him to him to rut into her like she was a bitch in heat.  

Harwin was nothing if not devoted to his wife. He would give her the world if she asked. He stood at her side, the ever-looming presence that reminded those around them Rhaenyra was not to be toyed with. He knew she was capable of protecting herself, of course, but he could not allow himself to leave his wife to her own protection.  

Their devotion and love to each other, however, was in complete contrast to the marriages between Rhaenyra’s siblings. Well, one of them. The marriage of Helaena to Cregan Stark had been unexpected, yes, but having met the man at a tourney, he was all her sweet sister desired. Nobody would deny Helaena. Aemond and Daeron were too involved in their studies to give much mind to marriage. Their time would come, of course, but for now they could do as they pleased. The problem marriage was yours. 

When Alicent had given birth to you first, Viserys was disappointed once more. What is a king without a son? But within the hour, your twin finally made his presence known. The King finally had a son. Aegon Targaryen, second of his name, had accomplished more just with his birth than anyone would hope from you.  

As you grew into people, you and your twin were far different. You were far different from any of your siblings. You had fewer Valyrian features if any at all. But there was a fire inside you that left little room for doubt of your heritage, complete with a dragon you claimed not long after the time Aegon claimed Sunfyre.  

The fire in you was different too. Most of your family were hot headed, quick to anger and rash in action. You wouldn’t say you were smarter, but it was like you controlled your fire instead of the other way around. You could remain calm. Your logic could outweigh your desires time and time again.  

Until it came to your twin. For better or worse, he was half of you. You were devoted to him as much as Rhaenyra was devoted to Harwin, or your Uncle Daemon to his wife Laena. Every moment he needed defending, it was you who did so. If he needed soothing, he would find you. As you grew and matured, he loved you as you loved him.  

The problem came with his drinking. He was nearly always drunk by the time you both were fourteen. He functioned well throughout the day even if he was drunk. But once the sun gave way to the stars, he got sloppy. Drinking so much he made a mess of himself was how he chose to spend every evening. He would stumble to his bed, stinking of wine. 

Luckily, Rhaenyra was a good and comforting presence in your life. Listening to any and all issues you wished to unload on her.

As a child, it would range from not yet having a dragon, which was rectified by the tender age of twelve when you claimed your precious Starfyre. That pale purple dragon, almost iridescent, a contrast to the golden scales of Aegon’s Sunfyre, but somehow complimenting him perfectly. Just as you did with Aegon.

Then as you had aged and began to notice boys, Rhaenyra was the one to talk about romance, courting and all it entailed. Explaining the more, as you would bemoan, embarrassing parts of a relationship but you knew Rhaenyra wanted to look after you. But she did also tell you, that the King would likely choose your husband for you.

And you knew what that meant. You would be given to someone. Someone that, if you were unlucky, you did not know.

But the gods were on your side when your betrothal to Aegon was announced it seemed. Marrying your twin would surely be better than a stranger, you hoped. But Aegon was still a drunk. Unable to refrain from wine no matter the time of day. Not exactly the husband you craved and wished for.

As always, Rhaenyra was there. Comforting you where Aegon could not. It was not that he did not love you. He adored the very bones of you, and he would tell you time and time again.

But he was a mess of a man, by his own admission. Struggling with the weight of being the King’s eldest son and now, your husband. He had never meant to make you feel the way you did, you knew that. Because how could he, if you had never told him what you were feeling.

You had always known Aegon had a voracious appetite, for wine, for pleasure, anything really. Yet, you felt as though he was focused on completing the deed when he bedded you and you could not understand it. You listened, now when Rhaenyra was gushing about Harwin, after you had begged her to. Just to hear how it should be.

“Please, Nyra…” you held her hand tight, the look in your eyes desperate enough to convince the elder princess.

“Do you really wish to know of my bedroom activities, hāedar?” Rhaenyra asked, tugging you to sit on the couch by her fire.

You nodded in earnest.

“There is a reason and I beg you not to tell Aegon.”

Rhaenyra could see you were serious, you never kept secrets from your twin unless you must. She relented then, waiting for your first question.

“I have to know, is it…normal…for the husband to spend so little time on the wife’s pleasure before the act?”

Your voice was so unsure. Not embarrassed to tell your sister, but more embarrassed to voice on the topic at all. Sex was not an easy topic for some, you included. But you knew Rhaenyra was the right person to talk to.

“No, hāedar. Not in my experience. Harwin is quite intent on bringing me pleasure as many times as he can before I even see his cock.” Rhaenyra smirked, both at your reaction to her crass words and at the memory of that morning. When Harwin had delayed his duties just to feast upon, in his words, ‘the most delicious meal a man may have, his wife’s cunt’.

You sighed then and Rhaenyra instantly saw the change in your expression.

“Is something the matter, does our brother not give you the same treatment?”

She was not mocking you, for you could see the genuine concern in Rhaenyra’s expression and hear it in her tone. You only shook your head.

“Not that he does not do anything. He just…it seems like he is not as interested in what comes before as much as he is the sex itself.”

You did not know the word for it. Anything a couple did before sex, but you knew there must be more than having Aegon’s fingers momentarily buried in your cunt before he would rut into to you and chase his own pleasures, before passing out beside you. By Rhaenyra’s expression, you knew you were right.

“Have you told him, told him what you want him to do?” Rhaenyra asked, though she was already formulating a plan.

Again, you shook your head. You knew of Aegon’s past. The way his name was known in every whorehouse in the city, and yet that debauched nature seemed to never reach you. Rhaenyra took your hand, a mischievous in her eyes.

“Leave it to me, hāedar.”

You thought nothing more of your conversation with Rhaenyra as you prepared for your usual dragonflight with Aegon. Something the two of you did weekly.

“Ābrazȳrys,” Aegon smiled, knowing hearing his High Valyrian was a weakness of yours and he was right, a soft blush on your cheeks as he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in your neck.

Drunk, but not stumbling. His usual state, functional enough to navigate the day. He squeezed you a little, the way he had hugged you since you were both small. A gesture you were glad he continued.

“Valzȳrys,” you responded, feeling him smile against your skin.

“Shall we?”

“You want me to do what?” Harwin asked, not for the first time. It was like he could not believe the words Rhaenyra spoke.

Aegon followed you to your dragons, his arm loose around your waist as he walked. He was not shy with his public affections, and you could never deny he loved and desired you. But speaking with Rhaenyra had told you something was missing. As you mounted your dragon, all thoughts of that conversation left you the moment Starfyre left the dragonpit and made for the skies, Sunfyre on her tail.

“Teach my brother how to fuck his wife, properly. The poor girl is woefully unsatisfied.” Rhaenyra stated, as if she were talking of the weather or that night’s meal.

Harwin simply stood there, all thought, and reason gone from his mind. His wife wanted him to show her brother how to fuck? The prince who was known in all whorehouses and more for his depravities and salacious appetites? Rhaenyra could not be serious.

“I will not say it again Harwin. My sister deserves a man who knows how to care for her every need.” Rhaenyra smiled, stepping close enough to press her body to Harwin’s, her grin widening when he sighed in defeat.

“Show him, do it yourself first if you must. Hold his cock and put it in the right place if needs be.”

Harwin’s eyes were nearly burst from their sockets. It would not be the first time he had bedded someone at Rhaenyra’s behest. But these were her siblings. The look on her face however, and the love he held for you as a sister, was enough to convince him.

“Fine, you are lucky I love you so…”

Harwin had heard the prince and princess had returned and retired to their chambers. Rhaenyra had near pushed him out the door at the news. It was now or never it seemed, though he had no clue where he would even begin.

He was a few feet from your chambers when he heard the soft moans and the gentle movement of the bed. Harwin took a breath and prepared to close his eyes as he shoved the thankfully unlocked door open.

“Harwin!” you exclaimed, grabbing a nearby sheet, and shielding your naked form.

Aegon was less concerned with his nudity but used his body to shield you a little.

“Is there a reason you have walked into our chambers uninvited, good brother?”

Harwin locked eyes with you, and you knew. Rhaenyra had sent him, because of your conversation.

“Rhaenyra?” Was all you said and Aegon looked entirely confused, his gaze swinging between you and Harwin.

The knight nodded, a silent exchange that told you what you needed to know but not Aegon. Your husband was more than confused and sat back on his haunches to look at you.

“What is going on?” he asked you, but Harwin answered.

“It appears, that your wife is not entirely satisfied with your abilities, good brother.” Harwin spoke firmly but gently as he settled down onto the couch parallel to your bed. His eyes stayed trained, for now, on Aegon.

But Aegon was looking at you.

“Is this true?” He looked hurt, those perpetually sad eyes staring down at you.

You sat up, holding the sheet close to you with one hand while the other nervously toyed with one of your auburn curls, a trait inherited from your mother.

“He is not wrong. I want…more.” You tried to maintain eye contact, and Aegon did not look angry which was good, you supposed.

“More? Like inviting Harwin in, more?” He asked, still not quite grasping the situation.

Harwin could see you floundering, and he spoke up.

“Not quite like that, Aegon. More…to show you what you are failing in.” Harwin did not mean to sound harsh, but it was the essence of it.

You wished for what Rhaenyra had. A man who would worship you from head to toe before fucking you senseless. Something it seemed Aegon was not doing. Aegon opened his mouth to speak but said nothing as Harwin stood up, removing his outer layer and moving towards the bed.

“It seems you are in need of lesson, my prince.” Harwin smiled, watching the blush on your cheeks as he got closer and closer.

You had always found Harwin handsome, telling Rhaenyra how lucky she was to have someone like him so devoted to her. Not that Aegon was not to you. The closer Harwin got, the more Aegon realised just what he meant by ‘lesson’.

Silently, he moved aside, watching as Harwin kneeled at the foot of the bed. He was just above eye level with your body, and you sat up on your elbows. Anticipation had you, the way his deep brown eyes bored into yours had a fire in your blood you had not felt in a little while.

“Now, princess, do you wish me to show your husband how a man worships his wife?” Harwin asked, his voice lower than you had ever heard. A sound that sent a shiver down your spine. You nodded, but that was not enough.

“Words, sweet girl. I need to hear you say it, and I am sure your husband does too?”

You looked at Aegon, who was flitting his eyes between you and where Harwin waited at your feet. He looked torn between being upset and impossibly aroused, based on the faint flush on his skin and the half hard cock between his legs.

“Show us.”

Harwin was gentle, far gentler than he would be with Rhaenyra as he gripped your knees. Tugging you down the bed and pushing the sheet from your body. Now, fully exposed you felt a flush of heat send your skin pink. You could feel his breath on your skin, the roughness of his palms on your thighs as he kneaded the flesh of them.

“Watch carefully, my prince.”

Your breath hitched the moment you felt Harwin’s lips on your inner thigh. Gentle kisses as his large hands pushed your thighs wider. Everything was already so different. Aegon was always gentle, but he was not as tender and slow as Harwin was being.

“You must take your time…savour everything you have before you…” Harwin mumbled to Aegon as he moved higher and higher, the coarse hair of his beard already sending pleasure shooting into your core.

Aegon did as he was bid and watched. Watched as Harwin kissed and nibbled your thighs until his nose brushed the apex, just shy of your cunt. He listened to the soft moans and whimpers that left your lips. Sounds he had heard at times.

But the moan that left you when Harwin finally reached your mound was near sinful, your head shooting up to watch what the knight was doing.

“Oh!” Was all you managed to exclaim the moment Harwin’s tongue took its first taste of you.

Harwin could not lie, you tasted divine. It seemed Targaryen women were each as delicious as the other. He took his time, easing you into it. His tongue taking languid strokes between your folds as his nose pushed against your pearl and his beard scratched your thighs.

The moans you let out were no more than incoherent sounds, your hands already gripping the sheets as Harwin had you hurtling towards your peak. His eyes looked up then, meeting yours for a split second before he took one of your hands and placed it on the back of his head.

“Show me what you want, sweet girl.” He urged, slowing down to force you to take control.

With a whimper and a quick glance to Aegon you gripped Harwin’s hair, which he’d left out of his usual tie. Pulling softly at the strands, you held him against your core and let your body choose what to do. Hips rolling gently as he let his tongue slip back between your folds. Before you knew it, your stomach tightened, and you were whimpering what sounded like Harwin’s name.

Aegon could not tear his eyes away from you now. He had never really paid attention to what you looked like when you came. Flushed skin, your eyes screwed shut as you let out those sweet, soft moans. And he realised he needed to watch you do it again and again. What surprised him now, was that Harwin did not stop.

Your hand loosened on the knight’s hair, but his mouth did not leave you. His hands found your hips and pulled you back to his mouth, listening to the surprised yelp you gave as he began to devour you. There was no other word for it. He was not as gentle as the first time.

Now he was showing what he was capable of.

With grunts and groans of his own, Harwin gave you know reprieve as he fucked his tongue in and out of you, holding you with one large hand as his other moved down to let his fingers join his tongue.

Your eyes rolled the moment he pushed a finger inside. They were thicker than Aegon’s, the rough skin only adding to your pleasure. Curses began to slip from your lips and Aegon could feel his own cock hardening watching you writhe against Harwin’s face. He resisted the temptation to touch himself, to intent on watching you fall apart again.

Harwin pulled away as you peaked, giving you the chance to relax and breathe slowly. And when he looked over at Aegon, the prince could see the faint sheen of your release on the knight’s face and beard.

“Never let her only peak once, the more she comes now, the more sensitive she will be later. And trust me, it is all the better for you.” Harwin rumbled out as he stood.

He shed his own clothing quickly. Finally revealing the sheer length and girth of his own cock. Even Aegon could not help but stare. No wonder Rhaenyra was so well satisfied, he thought.

Even you began to wonder if he expected to be able to fit that inside you, as you assumed that was where this was going. The rest of Harwin was just as impressive. This muscle built his entire body. Just the sight of him a fresh rush of arousal dripping from you.

“Are you ready, princess, we will take our time?” Harwin asked softly, climbing on to the bed next to you, helping you move slightly to accommodate him.

“Yes...” you replied softly, the aftereffects of your two previous orgasms still lingering.

Harwin let his hands trail over your body, as if he was marvelling at just how small you looked beneath them. From your hips and up to your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh gently to gauge your reaction. And when you whimpered softly, he was a little firmer, adding his lips to the mix.

What surprised you, was when he reached out to Aegon. Taking the younger’s hand and placing it on your other breast.

“Copy what I do.”

Aegon watched as Harwin let his hand cup your breast as his thumb began to swipe gently over your nipple, watching the skin pebble and perk as your whimpered out in pleasure. Aegon did his best to replicate the movement, watching and listening as you reacted just the same, back arching to meet his hand.

“My best advice will always be, to listen. If she moans and pulls you close, keep going.”

You were barely listening to what Harwin said, too focused on the different sensations. Where Harwin’s palm was large and rough, Aegon’s was a little smaller and softer. But the touch from both was enough to have you craving more. When Aegon’s hand slowed to watch Harwin, your own gripped it, begging him to keep touching you. And he did, knowing that you were showing him exactly what you wanted from him.

“Good girl.” Harwin cooed and you moaned in response.

“Do you hear that? Our princess likes being told she is a good girl…” Harwin but emphasis on the praise, listening as you groaned softly again.

Aegon did his best to listen to you and Harwin. Putting everything he heard and saw into his memory. He had never considered you would have your own wants and, dare he say, depravities. He had been afraid of treating you too much like his whores of the past. He wanted to make love, not fuck you. But maybe he had been wrong.

Harwin’s lips were latched to your neck and Aegon was quick to copy, following the path Harwin took on your opposite side. And your moans increased the harder they kissed. Aegon even began to take his own initiative when you gave out a whimper at his lips on your pulse. Kissing you harder until you moaned out his name.

“Well done, my prince.”

The knight let his hand move down your stomach, trailing over your hips and down to your cunt, feeling the slick skin and spreading your arousal around to prepare you for the next lesson.

“Time to learn how to properly fuck your wife.” Harwin smiled. He had to admit, he was having a little fun with this. You were just as responsive as Rhaenyra, but with a little more softness and innocence.

Large hands gripped your waist and lifted you gently. Your body was like putty in Harwin’s grip, two orgasms already making feel light. He settled you on his stomach, the rough trail of hair hitting your pearl just right as your got comfortable.

Harwin knew any position would be a lot for you to take him in, he was fully aware of his more than average size. This was about your pleasure, and he did not want to hurt you. He was already rock hard and waiting, but he let you take the lead here.

“Go slowly, princess. I am a lot to take.” The wink he gave you made you giggle, relaxing you a little more.

You moved slightly and Harwin held your waist with one hand while his other wrapped around the base of his cock. You were not sure you were ever going to be quite prepared, but the anticipation was too much. You had only ever laid with Aegon, this would be a change.

Harwin guided you down, listening to your soft whimper at the stretch. He kept up his praise as you took him inch by inch. And he was impressed to see you sink down to his base.

“Well done, sweet girl…” he smiled, stroking his hands up the curve of your hips and back again, letting you adjust to the intrusion.

Aegon watched in near disbelief. Seeing Harwin’s cock disappear between your folds, the sheer stretch of it and the moans you could not hold in. With a little encouragement, you began to move. Rolling your hips slowly and coating Harwin’s cock in your slick. The stretch stung, but not enough to take away the pleasure.

And soon you were rolling your hips in earnest. Your hand on Harwin’s broad chest to steady yourself. You had ridden Aegon a handful of times, usually having too little confidence in your ability to move as you should. Harwin’s hands held you steady, helping you keep your rhythm.

“Let her lead. When she is on top, she is in charge. When you are, you control the rhythm.” Harwin instructed through rough groans. Your movements getting more confident and drawing out his own pleasure.

Aegon let his own hand drift to his cock. He could not resist the throbbing pleasure any longer. You looked so beautiful, and something about seeing you on top of another man had him more aroused than he expected. His hand was tight on his cock, eyes never leaving you as he watched the roll of your hips against Harwin’s body. Adding in your gentle moans and Harwin’s growls and grunts, it had him near coming just from the sight.

“Not so fast, Aegon. I will let you put what I have shown into practice soon enough.” Harwin grunted, his hands now bouncing you up and down on his thick length.

Your moans were louder than Aegon had ever heard. Sounds he had not thought you capable of. But he had been wrong about many things today it seemed.

“Gods…I...I…” You panted as your nails dug into Harwin’s chest.

He had not been wrong, Aegon realised. The two previous peaks had left you sensitive enough to already be so close to a third. Your body was glistening in sweat, skin flushed, and your head thrown back as you panted and moaned your way through your third peak of the night.

“Fuck…” You groaned as Harwin rolled your bodies over and began pounding into you with abandon.

Aegon could feel his own cock throbbing painfully as he watched you moan and writhe under Harwin, the bed hitting the wall with the force of the knight’s thrusts, but you seemed to be enjoying it all the more. Soon enough, Harwin was pulling out of you and coating your stomach with his seed, growling, and grunting as he tugged his cock to release. Your eyes were closed, and you looked well and truly fucked out, your breath coming out in heaving pants as your high subsided.

“That is how a woman should look when she has been well fucked, my prince.” Harwin panted, pushing his hair from his face.

Aegon could do nothing but nod, as Harwin left the bed and retrieved a cloth to clean his seed from your stomach. Your eyes opened and saw only Aegon. And then his still hard cock.

“It is your turn now, is not, valonquar?” You smiled, your hand reaching out for him.

Aegon did not hesitate, pressing his lips to yours like he was a man starved. Forgetting that Harwin remained in the room, his hands settled on your waist as Aegon’s lips took a path down your neck and lower.

“Do not forget, take your time, my prince.” Harwin called, as he dressed.

Aegon only grunted in response. He had never felt quite so desperate for you. Whether it was desire or jealousy he did not know. But he did not care. He wanted to show you he had listened and learned.

His hand kneaded your breast as it had before, while his lips found the unattended one. Harwin had settled himself on the sofa, watching as though to ensure the prince truly had learned a lesson.

Aegon took his time as best he could, listening intently for your moans. Feeling how your body arched to chase his kisses and touches. Your hand in his hair to keep him close to your body. Confident now, in silently asking for what you wanted. And Aegon was quick to oblige, remaining where you held him until you tugged him away.

“Fuck me, please…” You whispered; you had never asked that way. Never asked so directly.

And it sent a shot of pleasure right to Aegon’s cock, earning you a groan in approval.

“Anything for you, my love…” He whispered into your neck as he took his place between your thighs.

His thrusts were slow to start, knowing three orgasms in now had you more sensitive than ever. But he wanted to do this right. He eased into you, before glancing at Harwin for approval he did not realise he needed.

“Hold her thigh at your waist, let her hook her leg round if she needs to.” Harwin instructed, knowing what Aegon needed now.

No one was doubting Aegon’s experience. But a whore was different to a wife, in some respects.

Aegon did as instructed, and the gentle change of angle had your eyes rolling back and Aegon’s name slipping from your lips.

“Praise her, you know she likes it now.” Harwin called again and Aegon leaned down to capture your lips.

He knew well enough what to say.

“My good girl, taking me so well after three peaks…” Aegon groaned into your ear as he sped up, all but pounding into you now, desperate for his own release.

The moans he got in return only spurred him on. You were both wound so tight it would not be long.

“Yes, good girl…” He whispered again, as he gripped your thigh tight and pulled it higher.

Both of you cared only for release now. He could practice Harwin’s teachings another time. Your nails were digging into his skin, and you were urging him on with your heel at his back.

“Please...” You moaned but you knew you needed to be clearer.

“Harder Aegon…”

That was enough for him. He wanted to give you everything you wanted and more. You had never been this vocal with your needs in bed. And he would deny you nothing. His hand moved from your thigh to the headboard as he went as deep as he could, wanting to show you he could do as well as Harwin clearly had.

You were so close to your fourth peak that Aegon could barely thrust into you with the way your walls clenched around him. His own cock throbbed hard within you as he felt his own release pulsing through him.

Neither of you heard Harwin leave, too lost in your own pleasures. But the knight could hear your loud moans and the slam of the bed into the stone wall. A stark contrast to the soft, timid moans he had entered to.

He was a few feet from your rooms when he heard you near scream Aegon’s name, a sound that told him Aegon had learned, and learned well. Harwin could only smirk and mumble to himself as he walked away.

“Well done, my prince.”

i wish that was me omg

IMAGINE: having Hugh the Hammer desire you, carnally.

One-sided!Velaryon!Reader x Hugh the Hammer

MDNI!

CW: One-sided pining, mildly sexist, infidelity ideation, s-xual fantasies, dub-con sorta?? reader is described as POC!

As you walk with your Queen to the council room, eyes follow you. You feel them on you and turn your head. There, standing still as a statue in the corridor is Hugh. He stands over you by a near foot, his shoulders wide and his expression always severe. You smile at him gently, and carry on with your dear sister.

Beneath the stoic facade is a man vexed. His world has changed violently over these last few nights. What’s more odd, is this feeling within him. A desire that he has never felt before.

Hugh knows it’s wrong. His wife waits for him at Kings Landing. How dare he look upon another woman with such lust. A Lady of House Velaryon, at that. He must leave to his rooms. Shameful, it is. That he flees to relieve himself of his desires so often these days. Hugh knows he should be disgusted.

Yet… when you smile at him so sweetly, something within him stirs. You speak to him with admiration, you call his bond with Vermithor, “A sign from the Seven.” It is unreal to him that a Princess would insist on calling him “Ser.” You are virtuous. You are tender. You are beauty beyond his imagination. Silky umber skin, eyes of pale violet, your hair a brighter silver than his hammer has ever touched. He could not construct from jewel or iron something comparable to you.

Beyond your charm and looks, you are kind. Not once have you spoken ill to him. You see in him everything he had ever wanted to be. In your eyes he sees a hero reflecting back at him. And he wants that to be true. Hugh once tried to tell you that, “I am no knight, your ladyship. I cannot read, nor write. I have never seen battle. I will rise to the occasion, but I have done nothing to earn your respect.”

You took his hand, fingers covered in jewels, and replied, “Your humility is a good thing, but… Vermithor has only had one rider, and he was one of our greatest kings. If he allowed your claim over him it is because he saw you equal to his last rider. I know you will bring greatness to our cause, Hugh.”

His wife never spoke to him like this. She probably thought he was dead, one of the many fools who were roasted and devoured by The Bronze Fury. And was it so vile of he, a man of Valyrian blood to want a wife of the same descent? After all, Targaryen Kings had two wives…

It became easier and easier for him to make peace with his feelings for you.

When first your face came to him in his solitary pleasures, he told himself it was his loneliness. Over time this thought passed. Hugh would lay on his back, submit himself to the softness of his bed, and think of you. The pouting of your lips. The swell of your breasts. The touch of your hand on his.

Tonight, Hugh’s hands untied the laces of his breeches and grasped his length. Already so painfully hard. As Hugh starts to stoke his cock, the fantasy truly begins. All sense leaves him as the world melts away.

His favored fantasy is of you on his bed, wearing only your jewelry. Hugh crawls over your eager body. First, he claims your lips. Your hands trail over his back and grip his shoulders before digging into his hair. Against his mouth you sigh his name. So pretty. So womanly. So… His.

“You looked beautiful today, My Lady,” he groans. “I had to take you. You understand that, do you not?”

Hands wander down your body, caressing your curves with reverence that verged on sacrilege. “You say that every time,” you say as you kiss him again. Hugh’s teeth nip at your bottom lip, as soon as your lips part his tongue pushes in. The kiss deepens with the tilt of his head. His tongue rubs against your shyer one. Both of you moaning as his hands continue to rub and squeeze you, grasping your soft buttocks in each hand.

He breaks the kiss, panting. Gripping your ass hard, he raises you to bring your wet cunt closer to his cock. You gasp and grip his hair by the root. He hisses in pain but bucks his hips at the same time. Pain and pleasure.

The head of his manhood rubbed slowly against your warmth, “So wet. Do you think of me as I do you? Petting your sweet cunt, wishing it was my mouth?”

You give no answer, whimpering in pleasure and embarrassment. His mouth latches to your throat and his right hand slips under your knee to raise it. The fat head of his cock is prodding your opening. Teasing. He won’t enter though. It’s all to make you gasp and beg— “Not yet, my love! T-Too big… I need more of your touch.”

He laughs darkly as he drops your knee to cup both of your breasts. Kissing and sucking each one he says, “You will adjust, My Lady.”

His hips thrust and he fills you. You throw your head back in ecstasy and he gives you no room to breathe. As a fantasy, he can forget your pain or your maidenhead. In reality, he is alone in his bed— fucking his fist with a blanket between his teeth to stifle his grunting. All that matters is the vision of you taking his cock. Nails digging into his shoulders and legs wrapped tight around his waist. Both of you sweating, moaning, lost to pleasure before he fills you with his seed.

It’s only when he feels that seed cooling against his own hand that the fantasy ends. And once more, he is alone. A man of middle-age, his wife alone in Kings Landing, pleasuring himself to a woman who will never have him.

Hugh cleans himself weakly and falls asleep with guilt heavy in his gut. He would like to pretend that this will be the last time he does this, but he knows the truth. All it will take is to see you again, to hear your laugh, to smell your perfume… and he will be mad with his wants again.

It’s a ruthless cycle.

Haikyuu Hinata-Centric Shipping Fics Pt.1

It seems like among all the Haikyuu boys, i have a favourite. For my favourite sunshine boi, Hinata Shouyou, this is for you!

General Audiences

“drink up the sunrise” by beecalm (HoshiHina)

“the fireworks in your eyes” by omigiris (Osahina with unrequited AtsuHina)

“conscientious” by catgod (SakuHina)

“Roses Are Red” by KuriKuri (GoshiHina)

“love is a doing word” by SugaSugar (AkaHina)

“Prince” by mari_aye (HoshiHina)

“it’s like you told me, go forward slowly” by elenoir (Equal parts KageHina and AtsuHina with slight OiHina)

Teen and Up Audiences

“three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead” by omigiris (Osahina)

“i keep a close watch on this heart of mine” by inumvkis (SakuHina)

“eleven minutes past ten” by inumvkis (OsaHina)

“A Dri-Fit named Desire” by boomturkey (SakuHina)

“I’ll Stand Alone if I Have To (But I’d Rather Stand by You)” by ThePackWantsTheD (UshiHina)

“WINGED OBSESSIVE” by fatal (HoshiHina)

Mature

“the beat of my heart” by MooksMookin & spacegirlkj (Seijoh 4/Hinata)

“fever pitch” by Authoress (LevHina)

“an ocean with no borders, a spring that never ends” by spacegirlkj (HanaMatsuHina)

Not Rated

“Bloom” by yours_truly_akari (HoshiHina)

Series

“blooming enchantment” by spacegirlkj (IwaOiHina)

KageHina Fic Recs

General Audiences

“so dress me in red from head to toe” by Emlee_J

“it’s like you told me, go forward slowly“ by elenoir (Also includes AtsuHina and slight Oihina)

“Everything is a Competition When it’s you” by CheekyBrunettte

“Flight of the Vagrants” by SlowQuotesQuill

“chase the light, my love” by thebeamingsun

“Learning to Share” by anna7130

“rio” by MajesticAnna

“if it wasn't for you“ by diphylleia

“SUNKIST (ON THE SECOND DAY OF SUMMER)” by carcassofbeef (Slight OiHina)

Teen and Up Audiences

“1,000″ by Elsey8 (Lots of pairings but mainly Kagehina)

“we can get up and try to feel okay again” by bonrin

“kisses” by buu 

“they don’t know you like i do” by murakamism

“don’t go away yet” by peachaspie

“at least, out loud...” by GreenyLove

“A little bit every day” by ChoAyako

“two slow dancers” by quietkids (Slight UshiKage)

Mature

“The Crown and the Crow” by Yuu_chi

Not Rated

“clear as day” by ClementineKitten