idk lemme ask @rottenbites @pinkdoeweirdo @silkaurum @dipperscavern @ghostlybfgf @targaryenstars @v-inthecortez @blushhbambi @memoirofasparklemuff1n they know all about being THE BEST writers btw 🖤
You told your boyfriend who was laying in your bed, no t-shirt and his hair a mess. You two had stayed the whole day home, even though he had his shift at Captain Clark’s Empire, he decided to get high with you.
“And if i don’t?” He replied teasingly while caressing your tummy and taking an inhale of his messily wrapped blunt.
“I’ll make you” you said, caressing his hair tenderly.
“C’me on pretty girl… ain’t nothing better than to have this thing in one’s mouth y’know?”
You giggled, your boyfriend was always so hard-headed sometimes.
“Although, if you gave me something better to taste..”
His hand stopped caressing your tummy and went lower, trailing his fingers up and down your exposed thighs and the hem of your dress.
“You will put that shit out?” You said, liking the idea.
“Hell yeah” he said, placing the blunt out of the bed and getting atop of you, kissing your lips gently. His mouth tasted of something sweet, apart from the bitter taste of what he was consuming earlier.
His hand kept massaging your thighs, trailing your dress up until it was placed at your hips. He was taking his time, as he always did, but you already felt yourself dripping.
His fingers slid under the waist of your panties, pulling them agonizingly slow down your legs as if he knew the anticipation was killing you.
When the fabric was completely out of you, he began to kiss your thighs, stopping at the vertex where it passed over your anxious core.
"Babe, c'mon." You begged, moving your hips towards him. He gave in to your plea, burying his face in your pussy and dragging his tongue through your slit before surrounding your clit.
You were startled by the delicious touch, letting him mistreat your lower half so that your legs now hung on his shoulders. Your back arched over the mattress while he sucked your clit and circled it with his tongue.
“Mmmph—“ he mumbled with his mouth full of your juices.
He was absolutely right; this was a better use for his mouth. You two would probably do this whenever he got high, but you would never leave his room.
“Babe that's s’good—mmph."
He quickly got pussydrunk with your moans of praise, gently nibbling on your bud before sucking it again. You planted a hand in his hair, bringing his head even closer, if that was possible. Your grip made him moan in your pussy, the vibrations ran through you while you tried not to squeeze his head with your thighs.
Feeling that you were quickly reaching the edge, he let go of one of your thighs to insert a finger into your trembling hole. Then he added a second, making you move your hips to the rhythm of the rapid movements of his fingers.
“Fuck babe! imm…imm—gonna”
Just when you were about to cum, he took his mouth away and slowed down the movements of his hand. That bastard had the smuggest smile ever.
“Gonna what? Mmm pretty girl? Think you deserve it?
"Please."
"I don't know, you were pretty mean to me, making me turn off my dutchie and didn’t even apologize”
He was joking with you and enjoying it a lot. He gave a quick turn to your clit, not enough to take you to the limit, but enough to make you breathe choppy, wanting more.
"Maybe you should beg for it."
"Babe, please, I'm so close." That wasn't enough for him since he shook his head with false disappointment.
“m’sorry m’so so sorry please please make me cum”
You leaned on his fingers, hoping that your words were enough to convince him. It was, and in an instant, with a smug smile, he was licking and sucking your pussy again, moving his fingers to what looked like the speed of lightning.
He didn't give up when you reached the climax, instead guiding you through it while your eyes rolled and you made incomprehensible noises. He continued with the abrupt rhythm until you pushed him back because of the overstimulation.
Then he slowed down until he stopped, giving your clit one last kiss that made you shrink before approaching to be face to face with you. You kissed him, tasting yourself, and all of him. That almost made you want to push his head down again. Not that he would mind.
“Ma pretty girl satisfied now?” He said, leaning to kiss on your neck.
You felt something hard grinding against your thigh, and you looked down and smiled before turning to your boyfriend, now with rosy cheeks.
"Someone’s excited too"
a/n: no use of his name because ‘Bobby’ is unmoaneable. Pussy dryer 3000. #sorrynotsorry
I just wanted to thank you for your beautiful recent writing with Valarr and that perfect Baelor one (it would seem wrong if I didn't thank you because I'm still breathless)
i really appreciate your work 💌
nothing to thank about baby i write merely for fun and for you to enjoy! 🖤
lizzie i also want to live in your blog pretty please, rent will be paid on the 1st of the month every month. i never miss a payment. i’m tidy and quiet!!!!!!!! 💖💓💖💕💞💞💓💖💓💖💞💓💖
mootie no need to pay rent, your amazing fics already feed me well 🫶🏻💞 feel welcome in my silly little house of freaks
The weight of the Seven’s judgment had never felt like this, like the seam of Baelor’s velvet breeches dragging against your soaked cunt, slow, while his pale fingers dug crescents into your hips.
He was being mean, oh so mean.
“Such a wanton creature” he murmured, voice honeyed and cruel, as you shuddered atop his thigh. His other hand tilted your chin up toward the crystal prism catching candlelight. “Grinding on me like a needy whore in heat”
You whimpered, rolling your hips again. The friction was maddening, not enough, yet too much. Baelor’s lips brushed your ear, so soft compared to how mean he was being.
“Look at you” he breathed, thumb pressing the corner of your mouth. “Desperate. Begging without words. And so beautiful”
A tear slipped down your cheek, shame, or need, you could no longer tell. He caught it on his fingertip, then touched it to his tongue.
“Again” he commanded. His thigh lifted slightly, the pressure made your clit catch the perfect friction against his breeches. “Weep for me.”
And when you shattered, crying out against his robes, Baelor smiled and held you tighter.
“Shh” he soothed, stroking your hair as you trembled. “I have you”
comparing valarr’s beauty to the moon while laying under the stars 𝜗ৎ
You couldn’t see him all day, and his presence haunted you like a ghost. The heat of the day had long since bled out of the red stone of King’s Landing, leaving only the cool breath of night and the silver sprawl of stars above the highest terrace of Maegor’s tower. It was a place few ventured, a forgotten lip of stone overlooking the sleeping city and the distant, black ribbon of the Blackwater bay.
Valarr found you there, exactly where he knew you would be.
You were seated on the edge, legs dangling over the void, head tilted back. He made no sound as he approached, but you felt him, the smell in the air, the warmth that seemed to radiate from his beautiful skin even in the chill.
“You’ll fall” he said quietly, lowering himself to sit beside you.
“Then I’ll fall into the sky” you replied without looking at him. “It seems softer than the ground.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, rare, for him. Valarr was not grim, precisely, but he carried his lineage with him. The firstborn son of the firstborn son. The weight of a crown that had not yet been placed. But here, with only the stars to witness, some of that tension flew from his back.
You turned your gaze from the heavens to his face. In the moonlight, his silver streak looked almost white, a pale river spilling over his brow. His eyes, mismatched colors of old Valyria, reflected the sky above, twin fragments of a forgotten dream.
“The moon” you said, ignoring his self-deprecation.
That startled a genuine blink from him. “The moon is cold. Barren.”
“No” you said softly, shaking your head. “The moon is the most faithful thing in the sky. The sun burns too bright, it devours everything it touches. But the moon… the moon just shines gracefully. It even pulls the tides without ever asking for thanks.”
Valarr was very still. The easy rhythm of his breathing seemed to pause.
You lifted a hand, not touching his cheek, letting your fingers hover along the line of his jaw. “The moon takes the light of a distant sun and makes it gentle enough for lovers to see by. It doesn’t need to be the source to be beautiful.”
He caught your wrist, slowly encircling his fingers around the bone. “And what happens to the moon when the sun rises?” His voice had dropped, rough at the edges.
“It stays” you said simply. “It’s still there. You just can’t see it for a while. But it never leaves.”
He had no words. He looked to fragile, almost like a child. His eyes lit up and his heart was beating fast. No one ever said such beautiful words in his presence, much less about him. A pity it was, that you weren’t his wife.
“You’re going to ruin me” he mumbled with a breath he had been holding.
“We’re both ruined”
The space between you was nothing, a heartbeat, the span of a single unspoken word. He closed it. His lips found yours gently. It was a little wet, a little clumsy, but it was utterly beautiful.
When you parted, his forehead rested against yours, and you could feel the faint flutter of his pulse where your fingers had finally settled against his hand.
“Stay with me” he said, as a few tears started rolling down his cheeks.
It was a view of the old songs and beautiful glass windows from castles. No perfectly sewn tapestry could compare to the moonlight reflecting the tears of the prince in front of you.
You cleaned his tears with your hands, kissing the tip os his nose and leaving a small peck on his lips.
