blog navigation; masterlist. wip tracker. about requests and blog rules. edits and gifs. fic recs. fic archive.
where else to find me; letterboxd. spotify. goodreads. ao3.
mainly tolkien, a song of ice and fire, period dramas, games, and other shows and books i enjoy! as i will be writing and/or reblogging both sfw and nsfw content, MDNI!
â recent works;
(some things are) flawed by design (m, 18+); ormund hightower x fem!reader.
thinking of how older boyfriend!maekar just loves to pull you onto his lap... (m, 18+); maekar targaryen x fem!reader.
thinking of how older boyfriend!baelor just loves to watch when you... (m, 18+); baelor targaryen x fem!reader.
in this time, give it to me easy (and let me try with pleasured hands) (m, 18+); baelor targaryen x fem!reader.
and save a prayer (âtil the morning after) (m, 18+); baelor targaryen x fem!reader.
my inbox is always open! thank you for stopping by, have a great day!
ŠBREAKSPEARZ â all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours.
"he feels himself isolated from the world and is only standing in a quiet kitchen; glowing warmly under an artificial moon, and is sure that this is all there is, with his gaze set on the horizon and his anchor dropping on a bed of sand. silence, and the smell of grapefruit dish soap." TUMBLR USER BREAKSPEARZ? THE PROSE? OKAY NOBEL PRIZE
WAIT I'M SO HAPPY YOU LIKED THAT LINE! i actually think it might be my favorite out of the entire fic đââď¸ i'm so happy you noticed it and liked it as well!
THE NEW MODERN!ORMUND HELLO????!!!! i am feeling so much feelings omg youre the best sabbb ILYY
#love me an emotionally unavailable jerk men
MY GABI I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! i'm so glad you liked it! the hashtag oh me too. he's so freaky so fucked up and woah i need him #badly. the way you always get me <33333
dancin' in acid rain alone it's new, but i don't wanna do it anymore; i guess i'll sing alone (modern!ormund hightower x fem!reader).
synopsis: weeks after you and ormund have called it quits, your car breaks down, your cellphone battery dies, and you're stranded on the side of the road under a pouring rain. and somehow, in an act you have yet to decide is either a blessing or a curse, you're thrown back into the dangerous spiral that comes with the very last person you wanted to see.
cw: smut (18+, MDNI!), angst. modern!au, canon divergence. age difference (ormund is implied to be in his early 40s and reader in her mid 20s). oral (male!receiving), masturbation (female!receiving), objectification, praise as dirty talk. power imbalance, toxic dynamics. reader is aegonâs ex, mentions of cheating, ormund is manipulative and a jerk! | 1.4k words
ORMUND lets out a breath, swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, and the thin silver chain that adorns his neck sways like a pendulum with every thrust of his hips.
âyouâll touch yourself to this when you go back home, wonât you?â he whispers, and his words burn through your skin until theyâre scorched on your bones. âfinger that pretty pussy thinking of me?â
you're in his kitchen, and your knees feel tight against the cold wooden floor, and you're bobbing your head up and down, up and down, up and down, along the length of his cock.
you're in his kitchen, and your shirt lies discarded by your side, pretty tits jiggling with every move, and he does not part his eyes from the sight.
excuses materialize inside your head like wisps of smoke.
you are on a break. yours and aegon's relationship was broken before you officially called it quits, either way. and you are on a break. he's probably doing the same thing, anyways, and he was barely loyal to you when you were actually dating. and you are on a break.
you stop yourself before you can conjure any more.
in this moment, none of them matter.
none of them make up for the fact that he, the man whose cock is far down your throat, is almost twice your age. none of them make up for his steady hands and careful sounds. none of them make up for the fact that he, the man whose cock is far down your throat, has already broken your heart.
it does not matter, not when you swallow around his length and he lets out a quiet groan.
âyou look so beautiful like this,â ORMUND hisses through clenched teeth, and a cigarette dangles from the corner of his mouth. âit's easy to see why aegon was so besotted by you. hard not to be when you look this pretty on your knees.â
a moan breaks past your lips.Â
youâre certain that his words will come back to haunt you later, when youâre back home and start dissecting the evening by its seconds, but at the moment, you close your eyes and do your best to tuck them away.
you run your tongue down the side of his cock, tracing a vein, and your hands travel down between your legs.
and itâs the stretch, and itâs the heat, and itâs the way heâs holding back from thrusting inside your mouth, and your mind is spinning with how good it feels.
âno, pretty girl,â he says, words falling out of his mouth in a purr. you decide you hate how soft it sounds. you cannot help but want to hear it again. âeyes open. come on, keep looking at me.â
you obey. you look up at him through your lashes, and he twitches inside your mouth. one of your hands slips under the hem of your shorts and starts to circle your clit over your panties, your own body trying to match his pace.
itâs not enough.Â
you press your digits harder against your throbbing pearl, try to circle them faster, but youâre dripping down your thighs, warm and sticky, and as you struggle to take his cock deeper inside your mouth, you cannot help but think of how it feels when it is splitting your cunt open instead.
you can still feel his hands on you. you can still feel his lips on your skin.
itâs been months since the last time you laid with himâthe night he said it would be best if you stayed clear of each other for the sake of your relationship with aegon, speaking against your embrace as he held you after fucking youâand you can still feel his hands on you: his soft skin and long fingers, his thick knuckles and strong hold.
it all remains, like the ghost of a touch over your skin, sending shivers down your spine at the memory it evokes.
you wonder if it will ever leave you.
âlook at you, pretty girl, making such a mess for me,â his hips thrust against your face again, cock pushing down against your throat. he takes a drag from his cigarette, inhaling deep, and you swear you can feel it in your lungs. âis this turning you on? mhm, are you getting off on the taste of my cock, pretty?â
a nod. you whimper around his length, and he hisses. he removes his right hand from the back of your head and curls his fingers around his base, pulling his cock out of your mouth as your pleasure begins to take form at the bottom of your stomach. a ribbon of spit bridges the empty space between his tip, reddened and leaking, and your lips, swollen and glistening.
ORMUND smirks, angling your face upwards, and runs the head of his cock over your lips.
you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, moaning as your orgasm ripples through you with a force that makes you realize that you have bitten more than you can chew; because this kind of bliss is the kind that has teeth, and is the kind of bliss that bites back.
itâs the kind of bliss that leaves its mark.
âby the seven, look at that,â he mumbles, and a clump of ash falls to the floor. his words are messy and slurred as he strokes his cock faster, and faster, and faster, chasing the same pleasure you have just surrendered yourself to. âyouâre beautiful. seven above, youâre beautiful.â
and he comes undone.
a hoarse, broken moan leaves his mouth when he lowers his guard. he continues jerking his cock as he cums, balls drawing tight as he streaks your waiting mouth with ribbons of white. they fall all over your lips, down your chin, along the expanse of your cheeks.
he drinks up the sight, pupils growing wide to take it all in, and his euphoria, unlike yours, is the kind that has wings.
you swallow, and the moment he closes his eyes to take a breath in, you wipe at the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. you lower your head to put on your top, and miss the way in which his eyes search for yours.
the lightning fixture shines over your head, golden and gentle like a low-hanging moon, bathing the kitchen in a faint amber glow. light bleeds over every surface as the day leaves little by little, and, for a moment, there is silence: silence as he gathers his thoughts and silence as you comb through yours.
he feels himself isolated from the world and is only standing in a quiet kitchen; glowing warmly under an artificial moon, and is sure that this is all there is, with his gaze set on the horizon and his anchor dropping on a bed of sand. silence, and the smell of grapefruit dish soap.
then, an exhale.
the world is the world again.
âthis cannot happen again,â he whispers, voice soft as silk, words set in stone. they sting, hot and painful, running like acid down your spine. you can still taste his cum on your tongue. âwe donât work, you and i. not really. you know that, donât you? and he loves you still, i know he does. he wants to try again. and you twoâhe's a better fit for you.â
your words die on your throat, and you answer what you can. âi know.â
ORMUND nods, chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths, and tucks his softening cock back inside his pants. he squares his shoulders, picking up the boulder, shouldering the weight.
âyou should stay the night,â he adds, after a moment. he leans over your form and leaves the bunt of cigarette on the counter. âthereâs pasta, if you want something to eat.â
the daze is over as quickly as it began. your knees, raw and reddened, sting when you stand, and you're left with his words, quiet and regretful, as the bitterness of bile rises up your throat.
to you, it only smells of smoke.
ŠBREAKSPEARZ â thank you for reading, let me know what you think! do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or feed to ai.
watch movies that make you uncomfortable read books that make you uncomfortable go to plays that make you uncomfortable watch tv that makes you uncomfortable look at paintings and sculpture and artwork that makes you uncomfortable. it is spiritually and morally and ethically and artistically really really good for you. think about why you are uncomfortable. what biases do you bring to art? what biases does the art bring to you? how do you reconcile this? how does your worldview grow and expand and change? all this and more will be answered and available to you if you just engage with art that does not coddle you and treats you like an intelligent human being that can sit through discomfort
you must fix your heart! @breakspearz - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
