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Back on forced proximity/bonding rn, dilfy Sylus keeping you on his lap after you've been bad to show you you can be a good girl. (Sorry I'm so depraved for him.)
I like to imagine a captive! mc in the earlier/resistant stages of their arrangement here thank you for sending this in nonnie 💗 don’t apologize because we’re actually both down bad for a dilfy, possessive Sylus determined to make mc behave.
tw. heavy dubcon vibes, allusions to captivity + stockholm syndrome, power imbalance, nsfw themes; small random drabble to regain feeling in my writer fingertips
“B-But I- I don’t want to be at the meeting.”
“You will.”
Perhaps his low, baritone voice humming at the shell of your ear should be reassuring, but as your transgression flashes through your mind- and the knowing that he always doles out punishment accordingly- you’re hardly comforted.
Worse has happened to him. Than what you did, you mean.
Bullets follow him everywhere, some have clipped him, some have missed him and some have punctured bone. Mysterious men in black trail you on those impromptu, isolated dates he takes you out on and no matter how often he’s been interrupted, it never fails to dampen the mood.
He’s been stabbed and shot and lied to. Betrayed by those he’s fostered under his organization, mouths that he’s been kind enough to feed.
When vermin step on his toes, Sylus becomes the worst thing to ever happen to them.
And the reality is that you’ve been blatantly dishonest to his face. As if the first couple times weren’t enough, he’s found you going around his back again, and God, kitten, you’re more like a rat than anything- scurrying underneath his feet, darting for the shadows. Looking for a place to hide. For a place to run.
Predictable. Very.
…But that doesn’t mean he’s entirely without pity.
So in lieu of a gun to the head, or badder yet, those red tendrils to envelope your limbs and snap, he takes a different road.
The higher one, he might call it. Spares you the brutality.
Doesn’t spare you the dignity though, because when his men trickle into the room and take their perches at the round table, Sylus’s hand doesn’t shift from your thigh to a more… appropriate location, no, and he doesn’t let up even when you nuzzle into his neck and whine softly, silently praying for a way out.
Nightwear drapes over your body in delicate frills, your babydoll hardly long or thick enough to cover the skin beneath: just how he likes it. You’re shivering, but not simply from the cold, or the nerves that come along with being seen while so scantily dressed.
In his pocket, you feel the lump of your panties, stashed there like gold.
Apparently, you do not deserve that thin barrier of protection, nor the soft, cottony feel as opposed to the scratchy tweed of his pants.
It’s a very raw, motionless form of panic that siphons through your veins now, silently scattering your pulse.
Despite it all, Sylus isn’t a complete, ruthless monster— to you, anyway— you know he won’t toss you to the metaphorical den of wolves you’re in (or would he?), but the imagined threat is still there, slowly warming your blood with fear, swarming your head with doubt.
If his goal is to make you feel as vulnerable as possible (and to be clear, it is) and force you into being more dependent on him, it’s working. Right now, there’s little choice but to place all your trust in him and hope he’ll forgive you by the end of this ordeal; still deem you worthy enough of his protection, his care, his loyalty.
Whether or not you ever asked for it to begin with is irrelevant.
A mouse of uncertainty races through your brain: Why is he letting them see you like this? How many times has it been now that he’s fucked you slow and deep on his marshmallow-soft mattress, grunting in your ear that you’re the only one for him, coaxing out more of the same vows from your own unwilling lips?
This undoes all of that.
The twins don’t have bad intentions, the fiend knows this. They can only linger around you for so long, though, and nobody else comes close to sharing that make-do permit.
Beneath you, your captor shifts, as if this is even half as uncomfortable for him as it is for you. That almost makes you scoff with anger, but you think better of it. The present is meant for you to change course and convince him of your reliable character, after all, and it’s a silent expectation of his that you will behave- especially after your little stunt earlier.
A thick swallow- yours.
A too-fresh memory dredges itself up. Dark, ominous eyes, and an effulgent shade of red glowing brighter with every solemn stride forward. Once he’d found you at the door, futilely picking at the lock with trembling hands- sabotaged by your own panic- he’d bridged the gap and snatched your wrist, little signage of his anger save for the flex of his jaw, the flare of his nostrils. But oh, you’d known your demise was spelled out right then and there.
It makes your breast flutter now, adrenaline surging for a second time.
At some point a low voice can be heard, muttering between conversation. “Stay still.”
With some unexpressed shock, you feel his long fingers adjust the lacy hem of your babydoll, tugging it further down your bare legs. Covering you up out of sheer selfishness. But the bulk of your unease lingers, as does the idea of fleeing.
He did this to you in the first place... What’s it matter if he tries to preserve some of your skin now, save you from the prying, hungry eyes of the wolf-like operatives in the room? He chose this punishment- honestly, it’s more infuriating than anything if he suddenly decides to switch gears.
The noise, the vapid chatter of the meeting that might as well be a foreign language to you, continues on, but for an odd moment, your heart falls silent.
A shooting star of regret blurs through, then, lighting your conscience.
For all your attempts to escape Sylus’s bedroom, the bougie, silken sheets he leaves you swaddled in every morning, you’re sure wishing you could go back to it now…
Mephisto’s company is a million- no, a gazillion times better even- than these disreputable, yet no less powerful men that burn paths over your spine to the nape of your neck, their eyes foraging your body for a sign of movement, of fear. A slip of smooth, supple flesh.
Do they know? That your captor has stripped you of your underwear, that beneath this pretty, dreamy blue article Sylus loathes to reveal you in that you’re perfectly naked? And as aware of it as Eve?
Don’t bleed in front of the sharks, a voice in your brain sagely whispers, and really, that fraying ribbon of resolve is all that stops you from crying as your bottom lip starts to wobble.
You hate him, God knows you do.
…Yet you hug him tighter, clinging to the very man who’s done this to you like a limpet. And perhaps what you despise more than him is the fact that it feels right, under all the unique layers of doubt and hurt, to lean into his warmth.
To give in.
And you don’t even care anymore if you’re a traitor to both him and yourself, if this means he’s won, if some sick, twisted part of him reaches its fulfillment when you anxiously fist at his tie, trying to bore yourself into his ribcage like a screw.
You just want this miniature humiliation ritual to be over.
Eventually, your quiet, somewhat intentional attempts at garnering sympathy must work, because something in his intention changes.
It doesn’t feel like he’s trying to discipline you anymore- like he’s trying to have some cruel, I told you so moment while he reclines in his chair and resembles the cat that got the canary.
On the contrary, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it’s remorse that takes ahold of him, smoothing the agitated bunch in his brow.
Large hands slowly lift. One from your ass to loop around your lower back; the other slowly stretching around your shoulder to pull you even closer to him.
You breathe in his scent, up close and impossibly more personal, and as you shut your eyes and desperately envision yourself somewhere else, with the twins or arguing with Mephisto, a begrudging murmur stirs at your ear.
A concession: “Alright. That’s good enough.”
That much is meant for you and you alone, but his next words crescendo into a shout that addresses the whole room, “Everyone- out.”
There’s a collective pause to process their boss’ sudden dismissal, but no follow-up questions are asked, and nobody needs to be told a second time.
It’s only when they’re gone, the heavy door sealing behind them, that you let your shoulders finally slump.
It’s done.
Sylus draws back slightly just to prop his knuckles under your chin, guiding your wet gaze to his so he can regard you in that wordless, shrewd way he always does.
Ruby gemstones shine back at you, but not with all the smugness you’re expecting; they’re streaked with an unease that momentarily stuns you.
Devil, it must be the rational part of you that seethes in turn. But oh, it’s finally over, those tortuous minutes that felt like hours, flayed apart the longer you’d been forced to sit half naked on his lap, and the frightful piece of you says something different.
Tiny fingers dig into his suit, his gaze cataloguing every micro-expression, every sign of internal conflict that seeps into your appearance.
Savior.
He opens his mouth then pauses for a second, understanding what you are not saying, though you won’t pretend to understand it yourself, “I’ll admit that I need to find a more… suitable punishment for you, Kitten. I…”
A short, unhappy huff. Registering that his sentence has no destination, he starts anew.
“It felt just as unpleasant for me.”
An upward twitch of his lips- no doubt an attempt to match his typical, smug aura- but it fails to hold any true mirth, or even condescension, “So what sense would it make to drag it out?”
Long digits trail up your side, weighing something. Your heart hangs pendant in your chest, waiting for his word, albeit now that the outsiders- those invaders to your new home- have left, your peace of mind slowly reappears over the horizon.
Again, Sylus pauses, staring at you like you have the answer for his inward dilemma; knowing full well that you could not explain this phenomenon of passion to him even if you tried. You are just a girl. He’s forty something years old, twenty your senior— he should have this figured out already. He doesn’t.
Truth be told there is no accurate label other than love to detail this jealous, restless maelstrom he is experiencing, and fuck, hasn’t he known that for a while now? But maybe it’s pride that blocks his path, stretches his inevitable fall.
Plants these nasty seeds in his head, telling him he must cut to where it hurts you most in order for you to fucking see—
That you’re his. And he is yours.
A shallow breath of perfect realization. As he exhales, it blows against your lips and it’s not long before he leans in to sample the sweetness there. With great hesitance, and a feeling that scares you- maybe just autopilot at this point- you clumsily return his ardent, almost tender kiss.
Maybe not the best, nor most ethical measures were taken in the name of discipline, sure… he knows that now that he’s dwelling in this unneglectable morsel of guilt.
But Sylus does wonder if it worked any.
…
The conclusion:
You melt, coiling into his warmth and practically caterwauling into the underside of his scratchy jaw, nuzzling into the tendon of his neck where his flesh is most susceptible to damage, to the teeth you’ve fruitlessly tried to sink there before.
“I- I wanna go back to your bed, Sylus.”
A satisfied, if not slightly exasperated huff. The chair screeches underneath as he effortlessly lifts you up.
𝒄𝒘; smut, MDNI (older woman!ellie, scissoring, pussy eating, boss-employee sex, explicit language, groping, dirty talk, usage of 'mommy' in a sexual context); 𝒘𝒄 1.4k words
𝒋𝒖𝒏𝒊 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔; ₍ᵔ.˛.ᵔ₎ hi, well - i have this obsession with older women rn, so here u go - i believe ellie being way older than you would be so so hot hehe (divider cr. goes to @chrisssiren )
𝒎𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒔
It’s cruel, just truly cruel. Your girlfriend, who is also your boss, is currently striding across her office in nothing but slacks and a white button up which barely covers nipples - she had refused to put a bra on this morning.
Her hands move as she gestures, rings glinting in the almost medical grade office lights. Her phone tucked between her jaw and shoulder, back turned in your direction - which gives you a view of her ass in those pants.
You can already feel the soft cotton of your panties, which Ellie had picked out in the morning, dampening at the sight of the older woman whose bed you return to at night - it’s cruel and maddeningly good.
She ends the call and chucks the phone onto her dark wooden desk, the same desk you’ll end up bent over soon if you play your cards right. Her gaze flickers to you through the glass, unashamed and wicked as she throws you wink.
You stand from your desk, brushing down the skirt she had picked out in the morning, you grab a stack of papers - not sure what they say but they’ll make a good enough excuse to stay in her office a little longer than usual.
You shoulder the office door open, papers pressed to your chest as the glass front of her office turns milky - privacy for what’s to come, for what’s normality between you two and a dirty little secret none of Ellie’s employees can find out about.
“There you are, sweetheart.” She drawls, sat on the edge of her polished desk, legs spread unashamed. The hint of a smirk graces her features, the fine lines around her eyes are more prominent when she smiles at you like this.
“What have you got for me?” She cocks her head, teasing - always teasing. She knows that the papers in your hands are not meant for her, that the papers are merely an excuse to enter her office and be fucked by the older woman who signs off your paycheck every month.
“You know those are just for show.” The words leave you a little breathless, excited for what’s to come. You put the papers down on the little coffee table next to the leather couch and take a few steps closer. “Oh I know, baby.” She murmurs as her fingers hook into the front of your blouse, pulling you snug between her legs.
Your hands sneak around her shoulders as hers roams across your back. “Gonna make my day a little bit better, baby?” The question sparks a little dampness between your legs, it’s an invitation and a demand at once.
All you can do is give the older woman a nod which she repays with sealing the little distance between you two. Her mouth clamps onto yours, breath mangling as lips part and tongues slide against one another.
Her hands fists into the hair at the back of your head, pulling deliciously. The tension and the way she’s practically tongue fucking your mouth elicits a moan she swallows without hesitation.
Her other hands roam, slipping under the fabric of your blouse to brush against the delicate skin of your breast, fingertips toying gently with your nipple. Your hips rock forward desperately, wanting her to just give you what you need.
“Get on your knees for me, baby.” She whispers against your lips as she pulls back just enough, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. She doesn’t have to say it twice, with a shuddering breath your knees connect with polished granite flooring, your face now eye level with her crotch.
“Such a pretty girl - gonna make mommy feel good?” She rakes a hand through your hair, eyes half lidded and you know that the question is nonnegotiable.
With quick hands your open the button of her slacks and slide the pants down, the milky skin of her thighs make your mouth water. Then the boy shorts follow, revealing the trimmed bush and the already slick folds beneath.
“Come on, baby.” Ellie encourages once again. Your hands settle on her thighs before you dive in.
Without preamble, you lick a fat stripe up from center to clit, circling the bud once. Ellie sighs in relief, fingers fisting into your hair to hold, not to pull.
“Just like that, baby - just like that.” The breathy, pleasure filled words spark resolve in your chest - you’ll be good and make her come on her work desk.
You dive back in, the scent of her is sweet, musky and heady and it makes your brain swim in the best way. Your fingers tighten on her thighs for purchase as your tongue licks at her cunt like you’ve been starving for this.
The sound of Ellie’s moans and the wet sounds of your mouth devouring her slick heat fills the otherwise sterile office in obscenity.
When her breathing grows quicker, thighs trembling around your head, you bury two fingers in her pussy, pumping them in slowly. Her hips rock with it, hand tightening against your scalp. You know she’s close.
“Fuck, baby - yes.” She mumbles, breathless and raw. When her hips sputter, thighs threatening to clamp, you add a third finger, stretching her deliciously. The very motion of this tips her over, makes her back bow and her head lull back. Ellie comes with a groan and her fingers pulling your hair - you eat her through it, through the aftershocks, lapping it all up.
When body loosens and her hands slips from your hair, you pull back - slipping the fingers from her throughly fucked cunt and slip the digets between your glistening lips to suck them clean. Ellie watches you with half lidded eyes, tapping a knuckle against your chin.
“Come on up, sweetheart - your turn.” With your mouth glistening and your panties already uncomfortably damp against your cunt, you rise to stand between her spread legs. Ellie grabs you by the back of your neck and closes the distance in a searing kiss - tasting herself on your tongue.
When you two part, you swiftly hooks your hands in the fabric of your panties and slide them down, letting them pool on the floor forgotten, the skirt is rucked up to your waist and Ellie leans herself back on the desk, hands warm and grounding at the sides of your waist.
“Ride me, baby.” She instructs, letting you hook one of her legs over your shoulder. One of your own legs braces on the edge of the table to line up your pussy with hers.
The moment she rocks up, gliding her clit against yours, a breathless whimper leaves you, fingers curling against the soft skin of her thigh. You rock your hips, grinding against her wet heat and letting the tension build.
“Fuck, Ellie.” Leaves you in a breathless moan.
“Look at you, baby.” She drawls, one hand reaching for one of your tits, kneading at the soft skin, thumb rolling the nipple in little circles.
“My pretty little slut. You love grinding against your mommy like this, don’t you?” The heat keeps building, the friction of her clit against yours is cruel and ecstatic at once.
“Yes, mommy.” You whimper, placing openmouthed kisses along the soft skin of her thigh as it rests over your shoulder.
The thrusts grow more frantic, her hips snapping up to yours as the heat builds, the coil on your lower belly tightening. “Ellie” you keen, your own hand roaming her belly, fingers brushing the undersides of her breasts.
“Come on my cunt, baby - come with me.” She demands, one hand sneaking between you two to rub unrelenting circles against your clit - it doesn’t take long to fulfill her demand.
You come first, back bowing as a cry leaves you as your orgasm crashes through you, your hips stutter, legs shaking, hands tightening on her skin. Ellie doesn’t let up, she rocks her hips upwards to chase her own release - her hand sneaks to her cunt and circles her clit.
“That’s it, baby. That’s my girl.” She grunts before her own orgasm snaps into place. A grunt leaves her as her body locks, thighs clamping her hips stuttering before her body softens.
You collapse on top of her, bodies slick and damp. Ellie brushes some hair from your forehead, pressing a kiss to the damp skin. “So good for me, baby.”
Jesus… new kink unlocked? I never quite thought about it like this before. The little mermaid was my first crush though, so that makes sense that this turned me on.
cregan stark likes to watch his spoiled, pampered wife bathe
"You are in no need of more oils, wife," Cregan mutters, grey eyes watching bedrugingly as you pour yet another vial of scented concoctions into the milky bath water you are lounging in.
He swears it must be the tenth one you added. How a woman can even breathe with so many cloying, flowery smells stinking up the bath chambers is beyond his comprehension. Cleaning oneself needs to be a simple, efficient affair, not a godforsaken parade of every single lotion and oil you own.
"If you are so slight by it, husband," you lilt, leaning back into the water with a soft, pleased sigh, closing your eyes as you let yourself relax fully, body submerged up to your shoulders. "You may leave and allow me a moment of peace without your brooding."
"I am not—"
"But you are," you interrupt, humming, lifting a hand to thread your fingers along the surface of the water as you speak. "Every time you join me, you do nothing but stand there and brood," the sound of your tongue clicking follows, as if expressing your distaste for this odd tradition your lord husband has instilled in the moons you have been wed. "It disturbs my repose."
Cregan scoffs, having half a mind to not roll his eyes at your audacity. He should be used to it by now, seeing as you have never shied away from making it abundantly clear how much you love being indulged and enjoying your reprise without a single interruption.
And yet, he was not going to allow you to discard him with a flick of your hand and a defiant tilt of your chin whenever you wished to be undisturbed. He was your husband, and if he wanted to be in attendance at whatever ridiculous southern pompous customs you had, he would.
That's why he had asked the servants to put an armchair in your bathing chambers, close by the tub, where he shall sit every time he has the luxury of disregarding or postponing his duties for a while, just so he can watch you bathe and pamper yourself. Cregan did not care if word filtered through the walls that The Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North spent part of his pastime sitting splayed out in a chair in his wife's bath chambers, feasting on one of the most exquisite viewings in the Seven Kingdoms. Let them talk and whisper. He did not need to explain himself to anyone, least of all to gossiping servants and sycophants alike.
His wolfish gaze was shameless as it traced the damp, dewy skin of your neck and shoulders, fingers drumming onto the wooden arm of the chair, faltering in rhythm just a tad whenever you shifted, the water lapping at your curves. He swore sometimes you were moving with the intent to drive him to madness, even if it was the most minute gesture.
"Disturbs your repose," he parroted, lips twitching with amusement at your feigned disdain for his presence. "My apologies for being such a pest to my own wife," Cregan continued, "I was not aware bathing oneself required such solitude."
Your expression shifted, a scowl marring your pretty features as your chin tipped upwards, as if his words had no place even reaching you. "It always requires solitude. You are just adamant to perturb it," you complained, sighing, as if the mere thought exasperated you, which made Cregan's mouth curl further, dripping with mounting enjoyment. "You stand there watching me like some kind of lecher," you accused, scowl deepening, a scoff leaving your plush mouth. "It is unbecoming of a husband to ogle his wife so shamelessly. You northerners have no decorum."
And oh, the way your lips curled every time you mentioned his culture, tone haughty and dipped with venom at the edges, as if spitting out the very word, made his blood sing.
"Just brutes with no finesse," you finished, chin raising just a bit higher, showing him you were above such things, above him, above his culture.
Gods, he wanted to haul you out of that bath and spank you until you cried those fat, pretty tears again, cheeks flushed and voice wet from babbling at him to stop. Cregan was not a man given to punishment easily, especially with the woman he was bound to by law and vow, but he came to understand that there were few ways he could make his wife see reason, and even then, only if you wanted to give in to his whims and relent.
"If you wanted a soft southerner lord with nough but a flaccid cock and no mind of his own, wife," he spoke, lips curling into that slow, wolfish grin, the one where his canines peaked through. A wolf showing his teeth without biting, but making it clear he could if provoked further. "You wouldn't have accepted my proposal so readily, riding for Winterfell not even a fortnight after our sigils were put on parchment."
You scoffed, rolling your eyes in that infuriating way Cregan loved and hated in equal measure, as if his words were nothing but white noise you were forced to listen to. "It was in my best interest to accept," you protested, inclining a little higher, leaning back against the tub, the water lapping at the tops of your damp breasts. A muscle in Cregan's jaw twitched as his eyes followed the movement. "Why would I be the lady of some lesser lord when I can be Lady of Winterfell?" The words were accompanied by a hum, evidently pleased with the title you possessed. "I am nothing but a woman of great ambitions, as you're well aware, husband."
Cregan huffed, more amused than anything, head tilting, not taking his eyes off the way he could make out the pebbled shape of your nipples just shy of peeking above the milky, fragrant water. He knew what you were doing. This little game of yours was as old as time.
You were losing ground, not pleased with the way he was biting back at your attempts to unnerve him, and had no other alternative but to call to his most primal, animal instincts that reside as deep as the marrow of his bones. He was a man, after all, and no stranger to the cravings of the flesh, more so when it came to his infuriatingly enticing wife, bare and glistening, lounging in the tub, indulging his eyes with glimpses and flashes of your body, willing to make him falter in his resolve.
"You never cease to remind me of the fact, wife," he said, feeling his chest puff up a tad at the way you huffed at his words, clearly displeased that he was not indulging your whims still. Not yet. Cregan was enjoying this more than he wanted to admit. "No woman in the Seven Kingdoms can rival you in that regard."
"What about other regards?"
Cregan's mouth twitched again, but he reigned in his expression for now. "Other regards?" He feigned confusion, tilting his head to the side, dragging his eyes from where they traced the shape of your damp breasts, up to your narrowed, inquisitive gaze. "I fear I do not follow. Must you be so kind as to specify, wife?"
Your brows furrowed, body shifting slightly into the tub, the water lapping at your skin, wetting it anew, drawing Cregan's eyes towards every patch for a few moments, rough fingers twitching onto his armchair, but he won't be baited this time. Raising one eyebrow, he waited, grey eyes now solely focused on yours, keeping you ensnared until you gathered the words to throw back at him.
"Am I rivaled in other regards by the women of the Seven Kingdoms?" You asked, chin held high, trying to absolve yourself of the vulnerable undertone woven into the question, gaze sharp, narrowed. But the way one of your hands lifted to grip the edge of the tub, curling around it, gave you away. You needed to ground yourself for this sort of fragility, and it made Cregan's heart soften just a tad every time, melting the frost of the North around it and giving way to the ceaseless warmth you brought with you from the South.
He huffed, letting his mouth form that tender, soft curl reserved only for you, grey eyes crinkling at the edges with barely concealed fondness. "No, wife," Cregan said, tone glazed with honeyed affection, letting his eyes feast on the way your chest heaved with a soft breath, as if his words had eased an unknown burden curled beneath your breastbone. "There is no woman in all the Seven Kingdoms who could dream of besting you."
And still, you scoffed, protest ready on your tongue, bristling in the milky water, never one to cease when you wanted certainty. "If your words are baseless, you may keep them, for I have no use for-"
"Not in my eyes," Cregan interrupted you, tone lowered but firm, halting your tongue before you could descend into yet another one of your haughty deflections.
It was ever pleasing, the way you faltered in the face of his sincerity. Blinking akin to a startled doe, your expression passing from one emotion to another, offense to confusion to reluctant preening. He could see it. Your chest heaving with soft breaths, plush mouth parting, pupils dilating wide enough to encompass the color of your eyes, leaving behind pools of black. And then, the flush. That warmth spreading from the tops of your breasts and climbing up, up, up your throat, splotching over your cheekbones and reaching the tips of your ears.
Mhm, he got you good this time. Cregan might have to ride the high of such an accomplishment for the fortnight to come, if he was lucky. The Gods were ever so merciful to grant him such a gift and let him savor it, too.
"The smell of the bathing oils must've affected you a great deal, husband, to say such theatrical musings," you mumbled, not meeting his eyes for a heartbeat, two, before looking into that northern gray you preached you found so insufferable. "It makes you sound like one of those flaccid men you mentioned earlier."
Cregan could only huff, amused, watching as you tried in vain to deflect and throw whatever attempt at diffusing the meaning of his words back at him. "Sound, maybe," he said, offering you a slow, wolfish curl of his mouth, baring just enough hint of teeth to allude to a threat, but not bestow it. "But I am anything but flaccid, wife. You, of all people, should be familiar with the hardness of—"
"Silence!" You shrieked, one hand dipping beneath the water's surface and swatting upwards, sending droplets of water towards him, attempting to will him into silence. "Have you no shame, you brute? To speak of such things in the company of your wife?"
But he was not perturbed; on the contrary, his lips pulling into a smirk, pleased and smug. Making you bristle truly was the thing he favored most, aside from the feel of your body and the sound of your voice. "Should I speak of such things in the company of someone else, then?"
"Don't you dare! Gods, you're giving me a headache," you fussed, swatting water at him again, eyes narrowed as you demanded. "Help me bathe, so you may amend for your wrongs."
And who was Cregan to refuse such a decree from his wife?
Cregan biting you in places you shouldn’t be bitten.
YES !!!! the starks i feel often take pride in their composure infront of their men so having them js go absolutely wild on u is UGHHHHH i need it licks lips hes so delicious
slightly inspired by this from @creganed which is crack btw its amazing !!!!!
—
anytime you are a long distance from cregan, it makes his bones ache. you are not just lord starks wife, you are his, his love, his woman.
your absence makes him a ticking bomb.
so as you can imagine, as soon as he gets you back in his bed there is no holding him back.
your neck, your chest, shoulders, wrists, arms, thighs, ankles, everywhere is free reign for him. and it isnt just sweet lovebites, its the biting of a man who needs you, who feels you so heavily in his heart that he needs to ground himself.
and it hurts, being bitten by a wild animal, but you would never give it up. seeing cregan so… unlike himself, so animalistic, so needy, it warms your stomach.
do not be surprised if he draws blood. it isnt purposeful, but tasting your red on his tongue, the sharp tang of metal combited with something that is so distinctly you sends him over the edge.
his hips buck against the bedding when hes between your thighs, suckling and nibbling at your folds like it was his favourite meal.
by the end of the night (or the next morning, knowing this man) you are sore to the touch. your cunt is red from the slap of his heavy balls, mound bitten purple, thighs the unfortunate victim of his canines.
you understand now, what makes northmen so different from everybody else. they love like the drowning ocean and fuck like ravenous beasts.
a/n: omg i'm finally getting to write this oneshot !! i've been wanting to do this for awhile now and i'm glad i've made some time to do it !! the reader in this is fic female and plus size !! i hope y'all like this and if you'd like to request some stuff you cannnn !!
content warning !: jealous/possesive sex, dub-con into consensual, choking, creampie, kinda predator/prey?, and use of "mommy" !
synopsis: reader stumbles upon an empty house with a lonely brahms, he hasn't come into contact with anyone since greta. though there's something different about you, once he gets his hands on you you're never leaving.
It had been such a long time since Brahms had seen anyone enter his home, after Greta he didn't really want anyone to be there. Yet when he saw you standing in the doorway, your soft figure glancing around the house confused, he was immediately enamored.
It was impossible for him to take his eyes off of you as you walked through the halls, occasionally calling out to see if anyone was occupying the house. He noticed the way your body shivered from your rain soaked clothes. Wishing that he could make you shiver with pleasure, but no, he needed to wait. The last thing Brahms wanted to do was scare you away.
The first night you stayed in the house, Brahms made sure his presence wasn't known. He watched you toss and turn in your sleep through the walls, the underwear you had on perfectly accentuating your round ass. The sight had him all worked up, he wanted nothing more than to take you in your sleep. But he didn't mind waiting, it just made him more excited for the moment to arrive.
The next few days you noticed strange things happening throughout the house. Doors being left open, loud footsteps creaking down the halls, and soon a porcelain doll appearing in random areas of the house. You really should have been scared for your life, a doll moving around the house as if it were alive? That's something no normal person wouldn't be afraid of.
It didn't bother you though, you found it quite endearing. Taking care of it as if it were your own child, and carrying it around with you while you did mundane things like chores. He had even caught you holding the doll on your hip, while preparing yourself some breakfast. Brahms could feel his heart growing soft for you, unlike something else, which was growing harder by the minute. While you were in your room, lounging around in sweats and a tank top, you heard what sounded like a child's voice.
'Mommy, please come help me.'
You froze in your spot. 'There's no way in hell a child could be in here right?' Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, it sounded like they were coming for you. Your brain goes into fight or flight mode, and there's only one thing you can think of doing. You jump off the bed and run out of the room, practically flying down the hallway. The steps only get closer and louder. You can hear your heart beating loudly in your ears as you run down the steps.
'Please the door is so close.' It's so close you can almost reach it, but before you do a strong pair of arms wraps themselves around your waist. You scream out for help, hoping anyone will hear and come save you. Then it hits you, you're in the countryside...no one will be able to help. Brahms' large hand wraps itself around your throat, silencing your desperate pleas for help.
"Mommy, you can't leave me like that. I need you so badly, I promise you I'll be a good boy."
The child's voice you heard earlier, it had come from a grown man. Specifically a grown man that was rutting his hardened cock up against your plump ass and choking you out. His tone had an innocence to it—but what he was doing to you was nothing of the sort.
His hands were all over your body, not allowing himself to miss a single inch. Once he got his fill he turned you around and lifted you up into his arms like it was nothing, his strength sent a chill down your spine. He had the ability to pick you up like nothing, the thought of what other things he could do to you scared you.
You try to escape from his hold, squirming and wriggling around in his arms. He doesn't budge though and instead he throws you onto the bed, staring at your body. Your chest heaving up and down from the previous attempt at escaping. He wastes no time in tearing your clothes off of your body, leaving you naked and vulnerable under him.
Brahms pulls his cock from out of his trousers, the tip a bright red and his balls dragging from being so full. His mushroom head slides against your clit, gathering your slick and lubing himself up. A small moan escapes you due to the friction. His hands grab your thick thighs and push them towards your shoulders, putting your pussy on full display for him.
"Brahms...please. You can't do this."
He ignores your cries and lines himself up at your entrance. His head prodding at your hole and slipping in. "Ahhh Brahms!—" It takes a moment for you to adjust to his size, your hole clenches around him and it takes everything for Brahms not to start pounding into you mercilessly.
His grip is rough and bruising, you're sure it'll leave marks later. The tighter he grabs and pinches at your thighs the wetter you get. You lay there, allowing him to have his way. There's no way you'll lie and say it doesn't feel good, you're practically dripping all over his cock. The way his dick hits your cervix just right makes your vision blurry and star filled.
It only takes a few more thrusts before you're sent over the edge of your own orgasm. Babbling about how good his cock feels and how he's 'such a good boy'. The simple words of encouragement make Brahms fuck into your gushy pussy harder. His pace becomes animalistic, and knowing that he already made you cum, he begins chasing his own high.
The porcelain mask slipping up just enough for him to plant small but wet kisses on your neck. His balls slap against your ass, making you whine from slight pain. "Brahms baby, cum inside of mommy. I'm begging you, I need it."
With your words, his cum spurts deep inside of you, filling your pussy to the brim. His face nuzzles deeper into the crook of your neck.
"Mommy's so good, feels so good. Please don't ever leave me Y/N, I need you with me forever."
The high pitched voice he had before disappeared, now replaced with his real voice, gruff and deep. You tangle your hands through his curly dark brown locks, smiling to yourself at the man on top of you.
megumi wants to see you as you cum ୨୧ megumi fushiguro x fem!reader ୨୧ im gonna lick his tip
riding megumi means holding eye contact with him. it's hard when you're shy about even riding him in the first place. he doesn't care though, he needs your eyes on him.
he's sitting on the bed with you straddling his hips. his cock is buried deep inside you, kissing places you didn't even know he could reach. he makes you wrap your arms around his neck, faces so close you're basically breathing each other in.
he helps you grind on his cock, feeling him go even deeper.
"mm wait!" you whine at the feeling. he doesn't wait though. he keeps helping you roll your hips on his length. its good, feels really full, you can't hold back the long whiny moan that comes out of your throat.
you close your eyes, but then you feel a pinch on your thigh.
"eyes on me." he demands you, rolling deeper into you.
you whine, trying to keep your eyes open, but it's embarrassing. your cheeks flush as he continues bullying your poor pussy.
"bounce, pretty girl." he tells you in a whisper. his lips meet yours in a gentle kiss, far different to what's happening between your legs.
he helps you bounce on his cock, holding your hips tightly. it's enough to leave finger prints and yet it feels so good.
megumi sighs, panting and groaning at the feelings of you fucking yourself on his cock. his lips find yours again in another gentle kiss.
"mm so good, baby, just like that." he whimpers out as you bounce harder. your legs ache from the movements, already preparing for the pain that'll come when you're older. it's worth it though.
his breath mingles with yours, lips a whisper away from yours. "fuuuck, baby." he whines when you clench around him. you bounce sloppily, slow and fast and then stop all at once. he has to take over, rutting his tip into your walls.
"ngh, gumi!" you whine. his tip meets your spongey spot. he moans when he feels you clench around him tightly. it's almost too tight. he can't keep a steady rhythm when you clench him like that.
"tight, sweets, so ti-tight!" he whines, pressing so deep as he finishes inside you. he keeps his eyes on yours, watching as you whine, clenching harshly on his cock, milking him dry.
he watches you try not to close your eyes, failing and earning a pinch.
"i said eyes on me. now we have to do it again because you can't listen."
in which satoru buys you matching thongs ⊹ fem!reader ⋮ suggestive（?）
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"can we buy matching thongs?" satoru chirps the second you two walk by the victoria secret's store, displaying the laciest and most gorgeous lingerie sets on the mannequins. you turn your head to him, scrunching your face in confusion as you ask him to repeat what he'd just said.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀"c'mon!" he trills, already pulling you inside the shop before you can even try to retaliate back. "i've seen people do it on tiktok, so let's buy a set and do it ourselves? whatcha say?" — though you know he's going to make you do it regardless of what your response may be. so with a sigh, you follow him and start scavenging for the perfect matching pair.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀much to your boyfriend's dismay, they don't really sell 'boyfriend & girlfriend matching thongs', so you have to settle for just buying the same item. he rummages through the entire store, looking for the perfect ones. in the end, you both settle for these hot pink thongs with shiny gems embedded all along the hip bands.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀as soon he pays, he's dragging you to the changing rooms and unbuckling his pants. you just stare at him in disbelief, a soft scoff leaving your lips as he pulls out the thongs. "let's wear them now!" he says, pressing a wet smooch to your cheeks. you roll your eyes at his incessant odd behaviour . . but unfortunately, this is what you do love about him. and so you remove your own panties, replacing them with the new blingy lingerie.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀the second you both change into them, satoru takes out his phone and positions it right down to your hips. he tells you to hug him and to pull the gem stoned band over the waistband of your jeans, just the way he had done. he slips his hand in the back pocket of your jeans, pulling you close to him so that your body is now flush against his. both of your thong straps glint prettily under the changing room lights, and your plush belly presses up against his stomach, showing off a bit of his toned abs that'd been exposed cause of his tee that had ridden up slightly to flash his shiny new undergarments.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀he snaps a few photos, the giddiest smile stretched across his face as he picks out his favourite to post on his story. "you're really sharing this?" you giggle, carding your fingers through his hair. satoru replies with a simple 'duh', like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀the story receives a numerous comments in a matter of minutes — here's a few：
shokoieri ⫶ my fave lesbian couple. happy pride 💗
princesugu ⫶ this had to be gojo's idea
k.nanami ⫶ Is this a new trend amongst the young couples?
satomiu ⫶ u shoulda bought matching bras too
Will randomly just pick you up and carry you over his shoulder.
Calls you nicknames like short stack and hot stuff.
If he's feeling like a dick that day, he'll hold stuff above your head and not let you have it till you give him a kiss. 😭
He loves the size difference in bed too, his dick is already big, but to you it feels even bigger.
Puts you in missionary to watch his cock slide in and out of you.
Or cowgirl so he can watch you struggle to fuck yourself on his huge dick.
His favorite position would be picking you up and pounding you against the wall though. He's a show off, and what better way to show off his strength than in bed.
Elliot - 6'2
He thinks it's adorable.
Sometimes he purposely store things where you can't reach just so you have to ask for help. (He likes feeling wanted and useful <3)
Calls you his "Little Minx".
Sitting in his lap while he tries to play the piano will have him soo flustered.
Loves to see how big his dick looks next to you, he'll rest it on your pussy or face, finding it impressive that you can even fit him inside.
He likes to get handjobs from you for the same reason, your small hands make his cock look huge in comparison.
"I don't know, my love, are you sure you can handle me?" - he said the first time you two had sex. 😏
Harvey - 6'4
He didn't know he had a size kink till you met.
Feels like a perv, but he secretly loves how petite you are, you make him feel so big and strong.
Calls you my love, dear, angel, and sweetheart.
He could NOT handle it if you rode his cock, the sight of that would have him cumming in seconds.
Would never want to make you feel uncomfortable, but seeing and hearing you choke on his length would leave his face beet red. His cock would be throbbing and twitching nonstop from how fucking turned on his is.
He would insist you don't need to give him head, but obv you're not going to listen, you get turned on from it too.
When in missionary, he'd spread his hand across your lower stomach, his eyes wide at the fact he can just barely feel a bulge there.
Sam - 5'11
He's so annoying about it.
Like Alex, he'd tease you a lot.
Putting things on high shelves, picking you up out of nowhere, and calling you stupid nicknames.
Piggyback rides!! He thinks they're fun.
He's a switch. So he both loves to dominate you and be submissive for you.
Thinks you being so much shorter, but still bossing him around is really hot. He loves the confidence.
"Yes, ma'am."
Making him get on his knees and eat it. >>>
Gets so flustered when he see's you on your knees too. Like "holy shit, how is someone so hot really about to suck my cock right now?"
His dick gets even harder if he hears you gag on it.
Sebastian - 5'8
Calls you his little tadpole.
Likes to hug you from behind and rest his chin your head.
Sit on his desk and yap about your day to him while he's working and he'll look at you with hearts in his eyes.
He's submissive. So like Sam, he thinks it's hot that he's bigger, but you're the one in charge.
Order him, degrade him, push him around, he wants it all.
Edging him. >>>
Whines at the sight of your small hand jerking him off, whines even more when you stop just before he busts on your face.
He loves when you cockwarm him while he's supposed to be working.
Overstimulation!! Don't stop riding him after he cums, no matter how much he tells you "stop, s'too much." He'll use the safe word if he actually wants you to stop.
Shane - 5'4
Finally he isn't the shorter one in the relationship!
Calls you shorty and hot stuff. And if he wants to annoy you, chicken little.
Will randomly hug you from behind and press his bulge against your ass.
You're not too much smaller than him, so he knows you can handle it when he's rough.
Def manhandles you in bed. Flips you into his desired position, smacks your ass and pussy, and pounds you into the mattress.
His cock is on the shorter side, but it's girthy, so he's still giving you a good stretch.
Fucking your face is one of his favorite things to do, he loves seeing your eyes get watery and makeup start to smear.
Will cum down your throat and "make" you swallow it.
Abigail - 5'0
Literally the same height as you, or maybe 1-2 inches taller, but she's still suuuch a dick about it. Always pokes fun at you like she isn't the second shortest person in town.
Lovingly, ofc. It's just the first time she's been with someone smaller than her.
Even though you're the same height or close, she's very strong from practicing with her sword so often.
So yes, she also likes to show off her strength in bed.
Will pin you against the wall, get on her knees, and wrap both your legs around her shoulders, holding you up while she eats you out.
She's also a big fan of standing doggy. Loves to see you bent over and crying on her strap.
Her dick might be fake, but she can use it better than any man!
Insists you sit on her face too, don't even try to hover though, she'll grab your hips and hold you down on her face if you do.
Emily - 5'8
I can't see Emily having any strong feelings about it. She doesn't have much of a size kink.
But she still thinks you're adorable.
Calls you her little mouse.
Very doting and sweet girlfriend.
Loves to cook for you. Also uses you as her guinea pig for new recipes she's experimenting with.
I could see her as a top or switch.
Early morning sex in spooning position. >>
She wouldn't even bother to undress you, she'd just slip her hands into your panties, playing with your clit and kissing the side of your neck.
Sneaky sex in the saloon bathroom is a frequent thing.
She'll press you against the door and finger you from behind while groping your tits with her other hand.
Haley - 5'5
I think you also awakened a slight size kink with her.
She'll call you princess, babe, baby, and gorgeous.
Bratty switch, loves to piss you off so you'll fuck the attitude out of her.
Pull her hair while you pound her from behind and it'll have her squirting all over your strap.
Has a thing for dry humping and miniskirts, esp at the same time.
If you're both wearing short skirts, she loves to bend you over, flip your skirt up, and hump your ass.
Rubbing your pussy through your panties is another weakness of hers. Bonus points if your sat in her lap.
Lipstick kink? She loves kissing you all over and seeing your body covered in her lip prints.
Spanks your pussy while going down on you and giggles when she see's you moan and flinch from it.
Very sensitive nipples, she nearly cums from it when you suck on and play with her tits.
Leah - 5'3
Similar to Emily. She doesn't have a size kink, but does think you're super cute.
Very affectionate and loving. She cannot stop cuddling you and covering you in kisses.
Calls you her muse.
Ask her to paint you nude and she'll have the cutest blush and shakiest hands while doing it.
Firm switch. She wants to both give and receive most times you have sex.
Her guilty pleasure kink is the two of you getting tipsy on red wine before fucking all night.
Giggly sex with her. >>>
The type her lick your cum off her fingers while making eye contact.
Tribbing in missionary while you make out and play with each other's tits is her favorite thing in the world.
Not a republican but she is pro-bush.
Maru - 5'4
Another one without a size kink, she just doesn't really think about the height difference.
Top, maybe stone top.
Loves toys and experimental sex.
Giving you the strap + vibe combo has her unbelievably horny.
Nipple play is a big thing with her too, she needs to suck on & pinch your nipples while she fucks you.
Electricity play. She's very curious about it.
If you were down, she'd buy a kit for it online, testing it by giving your clit and nipples light shocks.
Expert at eating pussy, she likes to eat it from the back while squeezing your ass.
Tribbing with her. >>>
Penny - 5'1
Calls you babydoll and little lamb. 🥺
Honestly likes that you're around the same height, that way neither of you have to hurt your neck looking up or down at the other.
Definite pillow princess.
She just likes being able to lay back and be taken care of for once.
Very shy and even a little embarrassed during sex for the first few times. She'd try to hold back her moans at first, but after a while she just couldn't keep it in.
That's how you learned she's actually quite vocal in bed.
Likes doggy style, mating press, spooning.
Not big into toys besides a strap and vibrator.
Hesitant to initiate, but you can tell when she's in the mood when her face is flushed and she can't stop squirming in your lap.
Ugh imagine bouncing her on your cock while you're sitting down, she's facing away from you and covering her mouth to try n not be so loud.
But then you find just the right angle to hit while squeezing her hips, and it leaves her nearly screaming as she suddenly creams around your strap. 🥴
