[OC] I had the eerie feeling that she was staring into my soul while i painted this. like if i got distracted she would jump out of the screen and devour me.
summary: Is falling for your husband the worst thing to possibly happen?
content: 18+ mdni, smut, very little plot, established relationship (marriage), large age gap (reader's 23 and Baelor's 42), hand kink, fingering, the rings stay on, praise kink, slight size kink, Baelor Targaryen has a big d, unprotected p in v, creampie, slight overstimulation, aftercare
wc: around 5,9k
author's note: so sorry for the time it took me but i have to study to get into the uni i wanna go to so yeah, that sucks.. anyway, hope you guys can enjoy!!
It was not a match made of love — you and Baelor — but rather one of convenience.
Early in the year you learned your marriage prospects had been under discussion. Your fate was to be decided by a council of men twice or thrice your age. They would sell you to the highest bidder — of that you could be sure — and you'd spend the rest of your life locked up in some castle, made to squeeze out one babe after the other. You hated the idea as much as you despised your situation.
You were not married off young — a Targaryen princess, eldest daughter to Rhaegel forgotten about in the aftermath of the rebellion. Now the court considered you much too old for regular suitors — thought you a spinster at the bright age of three-and-twenty — so there was far too little acceptable options left for you. And so you found yourself beyond hopeless.
That was until you learned of your uncle's predicament — different, yet similar to your own. Baelor Breakspear was in need of a bride and he was free to wed the woman of his choosing. It was not an outrageous possibility — even though he was your kin, the man was kind and gallant. He had no need for multiple heirs as he had fathered two during his late marriage to the Lady Jena Dondarrion. And as you knew — he did not wish for the marriage himself, rather agreed upon the fate set on him by the men of the small council. So you had made your decision.
That night you ventured to his chambers at a late hour. After you knocked on his door the prince invited you in — he seemed slightly surprised by the sight of you. He was still working on some documents — signing them and considering what they entailed.
"Uncle, allow me to speak bluntly." you said then and he gave you a nod. "I know of your situation regarding marriage, as I assume you know of mine. I come to you with a proposal — let us marry. I find you a chivalrous man — a trait not possessed by many these days. I can only assume you'd expand that kindness to your lady wife. As to myself I can assure you I'd carry myself with the same dignity I have for years now. I would not embarass you, nor act foolishly. And I swear I would do my duty — both to you as your wife and to the realm as its future queen." you should've been nervous and yet it was as if you were discussing the weather. Your tone was steady, your back kept straight — a picture of a dignified Lady.
There was a moment of silence.
"My dear girl, I believe you do not know what you are asking for." Baelor carefully said, but it did not seem final. As if you put the image into his mind and he was considering it.
"I have not been married before, that is true. But I am a child no longer. Your own son has been wed for years now — he is my younger by a year. The question of my own marriage is to be decided without my say in it. I find you the most bearable of all my prospects, uncle. I do not wish to end up dead by childbirth in a few short years — my body no longer my own, but a vessel for bringing forth as many heirs as possible. I trust that would not become my fate by your side. I ask you for this union for I believe it could benefit us both. If you do not agree — I shall go back to my chambers and forget about ever coming here." you explained — staying true to your heart. You could not decipher his expression — was it a one of concurrence or a one of indignation? Only one thing was sure now — you held his attention fully.
"Very well then. Allow me this night to consider it, niece. I shall bring forth an answer on the morrow." he said after a moment of thought and with that — you had been dismissed.
The next day when you awoke there was already a small roll of parchment on your table — bearing the Lord Hand's seal. You cracked it open and read its contents. Baelor agreed to your proposal.
You were wed in two moons time.
It had been months since your marriage to the prince. You were content as his wife — he treated you with the utmost respect and kindness. Yet there was a part of your union that had not been planned — the feelings you harboured during all this time.
You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when you knew yourself to have fallen for your husband. It happened gradually, you supposed.
Through all the feasts he was vigil at your side — assuring your comfort on top of fulfilling his duties as the Hand. He allowed you to stay near as he discussed the matters of the realm — rarely sending you away when various Lords requested his opinion.
Baelor also gave you your space — you could spend your days as you pleased. You obviously treated the duties of a Princess of Dragonstone with the utmost importance — engaging with Ladies of the proper standing, attending court as it was held, politely speaking to nobles and emissaries. But after all that — you could bury yourself in books or spend far too much time on horseback. You were grateful to your husband for that.
The both of you had fallen into a quiet routine. Every third night or so he would call for you to come to his chambers — a servant at your door would inform you of it and lead you to his as if you did not know the way.
You and Baelor then talked — at times for hours on end. He would confide in you — about the matters discussed by the small council, about documents he was supposed to sign, about the fear for his father's health as well as his worries for Valarr. He asked for your opinion on various things — taxes, your own ideas on laws to help the realm, certain Lords and Ladies alike. The both of you discussed volumes you had found in the library and their contents — even argued about that some nights. You liked those nights — and the fact that you would always revisit it to see who was right.
Yet it was all for the sake of keeping up appearances. Your lord husband had not laid a hand on you since your wedding night — even though you shared a bed. You were grateful for that too — at first. And then you became frustrated — so much so that the nights you spent alone would be filled with the moans of his name, your hand between your thighs bringing you to ecstasy. What you had no way of knowing was he spent the same nights in similar fashion — fucking into his own fist, muttering out your name as if it were a prayer.
You were blind to his longing glances and touches lingering a moment too long during dancing — just as he was blind to your clandestine smiles meant only for him and your subtle acts of seduction. The two of you truly were a perfect match.
And so when one night — after perhaps one too many cups of Dornish red — he brought you back to his own chambers you found yourself restless. Baelor helped you out with the lacing of your dress — as well as the one of your corset. He then turned his gaze away — closing his eyes as you let the fabric pool at your feet. You stepped out of it — now clad in only a sheer shift.
He waited until you were abed and under the covers to open his eyes again. Only then did he start undressing himself — pulling out his 'Hand of the King' pin from the fabric of his doublet and then taking it off. The prince did not notice your hungry gaze on his bare back. Once he was only in his breeches he slipped under the covers himself — just to find you already on your side, facing him.
"Thank you, husband. You have been beyond kind in all those months of our marriage. It has exceeded my expectations for which I am grateful. Even though I fear you shall never desire me in the way a man desires a woman, I am truly happy with our union. So again — thank you." you said, your voice serene and then leaned forward to place a whisper of a kiss upon his cheek. Before Baelor could fully register what had just happened — you were already turning onto your other side, your back now to him.
Your husband laid there, frozen in shock. His wife feared he would not desire her — a ridiculous notion. He had spent months yearning for you — too afraid he'd ruin the very thing he promised you upon agreeing to your marriage. Now with this newfound knowledge — there was only one thing he could do.
He came up closer to you back — his chest almost flush with it. And — to your utmost suprise — you felt your husband's fingers lifting your chemise to caress the outer side of your bare thigh. You sobered up instantly.
The touch was warm and gentle, felt almost cautious — as if your lord husband was wary not to startle you, yet you were all but afraid. Heat radiated through you, as if there was a fire raging beneath your skin — wild and uncontained. Your breath stilled but your body moved of its own accord, your legs spreading a little — a quiet invitation.
You heard a sharp intake of breath which was followed by a more firm grip on your thigh. Baelor's calloused — from years upon years of wielding a sword — fingers were traveling across your skin, getting closer to the inside of your thigh. Once they reached it you let out a quiet sigh and so did he. You wanted to say something, to ask something — so did he — and yet the both of you remained quiet if not for the small gasps and shaky breaths. The game was on — who would be the one to speak out first?
You couldn't see his face and yet you could swear there was a grin upon his lips when he reached in between your legs. At first his hand teasingly cupped your already soaked, bare sex — the signets and various rings cold against your heat — at which your hips bucked into his touch. His fingers spread your folds, coating themselves in your wetness — tender was the way your prince touched you — and pulling a moan out of your lips. They circled the small bundle of nerves — the one that had your vision blurring — putting enough pressure on it to have you cry out, your hand clawing at Baelor's strong arm just to ground yourself. He placed a gentle kiss upon your shoulder, the course hair of his beard scratching your skin a little.
The movements of his hand countinued eliciting soft gasps from you and there was a slowly growing pressure in your abdomen — not yet ready to erupt, but undeniably there. And then his fingers left your clit, creeping down towards your dripping enterance — just to tease you by not entering. You whimpered, your nails digging into his arm to rush him — he just kissed your shoulder again. The torture seemed to never end — with Baelor constantly not giving into your cravings, just going around them — and it was maddening.
Finally, he pushed one of his fingers into you and your back arched — your inner walls fluttering at the intrusion and your grip on his arm tightening. Just as could be expected — the finger was bigger than your own ones and it was clad in jewlery. He started pumping it in and out of your pussy, ever so slowly. The palm of his hand was rubbing on your clit with each thrust, the delicious friction making you writhe in his grasp. And then he added a second finger — you moaned, loudly enough to startle yourself.
You remembered him opening you up with his fingers on your wedding night but it was nothing like this — not as exquisite, definitely not causing you to loose yourself in the sensations. It's not to say your wedding night was terrible — of which you had been previously afraid of. It was fairly painless and the prince was kind — so you've been granted more than most women — but your body didn't react to him like this back then.
You also couldn't compare your own taking care of your needs to your current situation. When you were alone it felt good — good to touch yourself right where you wanted it. Your husband's touch however felt different — his palms wider than your own, his fingers longer and a bit rougher — as he teased you, not giving into your desires right away.
Now though you felt the pressure growing in your abdomen with each move of his wrist. Baelor still didn't speak a word — just ground his hips into your backside, revealing he was hard as a rock. You trembled. And then his fingers curled upwards and brushed across a spongy spot inside you — your back arched, ass pressing right onto his cock and a sob fell from your parted mouth. You felt your husband smile upon the skin of your bare shoulder.
He stroked his fingers inside your pussy at the same exact angle as a moment before. You felt yourself closer to your undoing, your legs trembled and lewd noises filled your shared chambers — your moans as well as the wet squelching sounds coming from between your legs. Your thighs clad around his broad wrist like a vice, doing their best to slow the onslaught of pleasure that was urging you toward your peak. But you knew you didn't want it to stop — needed him to keep going.
And it didn't slow him down — with force he pushed his thick digits inside you again and again, bullying them into your pussy. You were constantly grabbing at his muscled arm, your lips parted to let out moans and whimpers alike, your brow furrowed.
Baelor loved it — loved the way you were arching into him, loved the way your cunt clamped down on his middle and ring finger, loved the noises so unbecoming of a proper lady. But in here you did not need to care for propriety — not in front of him, not in your marital bed. He wanted you just as you were — not the carefully crafted version presented to the court.
"Just like that, my sweet girl. You're taking my fingers so well. So good for me. Come around them, will you?" your husband's whispered words came off almost breathless. He did not care for stupid games any longer — needed you to know how well you were doing.
Suddenly, the tight coil in your lower abdomen snapped. Your body went taut, all muscles straining with exertion — thighs quaking, eyes shut, mouth agape and a sinful cry spilling from it. His fingers continued pumping into you, fucking you through the waves of your release. You squirmed in his grasp, your body seemingly unable to take on even a second more of stimulation.
"Baelor!" you gasped, your nails digging into his forearm — hard enough to leave marks — to try and pull his hand away from your abused cunt. He let you — withdrawing his hand from betwen your thighs — but not before cupping your whole sex in his palm at which you shuddered.
Before you could fully catch your breath you felt his strong hold on your hips — flipping your trembling body so you'd face him. And the sight before you? It was magnificent. His pupils were blown wide, making his eyes almost match in colour — and they were set on you. You knew his passing glances in court, secret looks shot your way during feasts — but not this. Now there was something else in the way he looked at you. Yes, it was with care — as he has always done — but there was something deeper, more unrestrained. You did not dare name it for him — and yet the same thing shone in your own eyes.
You wouldn’t wait a moment longer — felt as if you physically couldn't. Your lips reached his with a feverishness you didn't know yourself to possess. The prince wasn't indifferent either — he matched your fire with his own, his kisses scorchingly hot. You were both trying to claim each other — as if a simple moment was not enough. As if you needed to be melted together for eternity.
You let your lips part, an invitation for his tounge. Baelor took it with a frenzy of a man starved. There was nothing soft, nor mellow in the way your mouth chased his. Desperate — a description of the both of you — yet still human. Still needing to part for breath.
"I love you, Baelor. I have for months now. I know our match was not one made of love, but despite my best efforts I can't stay oblivious to the obvious. I wouldn’t have dreamed of disturbing you with this if not for what has just transpired — but now I have a shadow of hope you might share my torment of wanting the forbidden. If you do not bear the same passions tell me so at once, I beg of you, and I shall never speak of them again." the words flew out of your mouth before you could think them through. They were breathless and longing, a palpable proof of your dishevelled state. And yet when you finally found the courage to fully look him in the eye — his gaze was already on you.
"Oh my dear wife, don't you dare suggest I have been alien to what you're speaking of. Do you think my heart to be made of stone? I have tried to practice restraint, tried to give you the union we have agreed upon. Yet it is all to no avail. Every night we are parted I dream of you, every feast I search for your presence as if for salvation. I have loved you for a long time now and by your confession you have saved me from my anguish, ñuha jorrāeliarzy." he whispered fervently, his palm moving to cup your cheek had you leaning into it. There was a soft smile on his face and now you could place the emotion in his eyes — it was love. It felt as though you could take a breath after being underwater for a very long time.
"Ñuha valzyyrys." you breathed, all eloquent thought escaping your mind — leaving only these two words. You were overflown with emotion — so much so that a single tear rolled down your cheek. His thumb caught it — wiping at your skin.
"I have been a fool for not acting on my desires right until tonight. Allow me to make it up to you now, sweet girl." the prince pressed a soft kiss to your lips, a promise. You nodded, not saying anything — too scared your voice would crack.
There was a caring smile on his lips as he rolled you onto your back and climbed over you — propping himself up on his elbows as not to crush you under his weight. He settled between your thighs and they wrapped around his waist on instinct. Your chemise was now pooled around your waist — a result of your previous endevours — leaving your drenched sex completly bare against the fabric of his breeches.
He could feel your arousal dampening the material as he ground his hips into yours — which earned him your shudder and a mewl. The pressure of his hard cock on you – so close and yet not close enough — was exquisite. Baelor lowered his face into the crook of your neck with a heavy sigh.
"Are you sure you want this, ñuha riña?" he then asked, his voice muffled due to kisses he was pressing into your skin. Instead of an answer all he got was your hand in his hair, fingers pulling him forcefully up and toward your own face — just so you could kiss him as he groaned.
"Your wish is my command, wife." he chuckled softly. You had to admit you rather liked the sound — so much so your hips bucked up to meet his, eliciting a low gasp from him and a whimper from your own self. Your hands trailed down to his breeches.
"May I, husband?" your fingers hesitated at the laces — waiting for his consent. It came in a form of a thrust into your waiting palm. You did not say anything as you pulled at the strings and they came undone — nor as you tugged them down, freeing his cock and letting it rest on your abdomen. Only kissed him deeply, claiming him as yours.
It was perfect — the way you fit together. Your mouths molded together, your bodies working in a harmonious tandem. Your legs parted perfectly around his hips, as if he was meant to be between them. His strong muscled arms bracketed your head — letting you forget there was a world outside of your marital bed. And yet it was not enough, you realised there was a constant ache deep in you. A need only he could cure.
"Baelor, I need you, please I-" he cut you off, his lips closing in on yours — you melted into the kiss, your thoughts drifting away. Upon parting you noticed his hand was sneaking between you, reaching his length.
Even though you were quite inexperienced — with no lovers previous to marriage — you knew your husband to be well endowed. He was thick and there were visible veins around his shaft — as well as a certain heaviness to it. His tip was now glistening, a pearly bead of fluid adorning it. You shuddered at the thought of him inside you, even though you knew yourself to be able to take him — had done so once already. A fact you were truly marvelled at now.
"You want me inside you, sweet girl? Is that what you're begging for so prettily? I didn't know my wife to be so desperate for her husband's cock. I have to remedy that, don't I?" the prince teased and you nearly cried out for him — but before you could do that you felt him at your enterance. He wasn’t pushing in yet, just coating himself in your arousal. Your breath caught and your hands flew to his broad shoulders — to hold on to him.
"Gevie." he sighed, his head resting in the crook of your neck.
And then Baelor started — ever so slowly — pushing his tip in. You whimpered, your nails digging into his skin, your thighs wrapping around him tighter. His own body trembled — with restraint and pleasure alike — and he let out a deep groan. It was torturous — the shallow thrusts that were gradually spearing your insides open. The pressure that came with it was not completly foreign but long past being familiar.
"A tight little thing, aren't you? Squeezing me within an inch of my life. We've only just begun, dear wife." his muffled chuckle sounded out against your skin. It was followed by another roll of his hips at which you gasped. And another. And another. You could've sworn you were whimpering — but it all seemed so distant now. It was as if you were no longer inside your own body.
"So good for me. You're doing so good. That sweet cunt was made for my cock, stretching around me so well." you heard him say, the praise falling off his tounge easily. Your inner walls clenched around him at that and you felt him smile. Wetness dripped out of you, coating him and the linens under you — which allowed his thrusts to reach deeper.
You felt full — incredibly so. And yet when you looked down the planes of your body, between the two of you — you saw there was still about an inch to go. The sound that escaped you was one of pleasure and exasperation both. He only grinned into your skin upon hearing it. And then he pushed in right to the hilt.
Your back arched off the bed, your breasts brushing against his chest. The moan you let out was undoubtedly sinful — he answered it with one of his own. Baelor stilled as your nails scraped down his back and your thighs clamped around him like a vice. He waited for a moment and then two — letting you adjust to the fullness.
Your breath was shallow and you had to will yourself into taking a full one. You kissed him — deep and thorough, your tounge exploring his mouth to distract yourself. All through the kiss he did not move an inch — even though the gods knew how much he desired to do so.
Eventually — your breathing calmed, your nails were no longer digging into his skin and the fullness started feeling almost natural. It had you craving more so you bucked your hips — what in turn got you his hiss.
"You want me to fuck you? Is that so? A word would've sufficed, love." his words reached your ears, low and full of lust. You trembled.
And then your husband withdrew himself from your heat — just to slam back into you, causing you to cry out his name. He repeated the motion — set a punishing rhythm to it. You felt as if he was bringing you to the edge of madness — your sanity dangling on a very thin thread.
Your body was already sensitive — still feeling the aftermath of your first peak. Your pussy was clenching down with the onslaught of sensations — which caused him to put more force into his thrusts. He was merciless in bringing you to your pinnacle, your dear husband.
Baelor reached down with one hand. It landed on your thigh, the flesh of it plump and meaty. He hiked it up — bending it and pushing it toward your chest. The next slam of his hips into yours had you crying out, holding onto him for dear life. The change of angle made his cock rub against the tender spot inside you — the one that made your vision blur and your back arch.
"I wish you could see yourself, love. Maybe I should fuck you in front of a mirror next? You are truly exquisite, especially now. A real beauty, taking my cock so well. I'm so proud of you, my sweet girl." your husband's words would make you blush — if not for the fact he had seemingly fucked the ability of recognition right out of your mind.
You were not used to him using such language. He was usually perfectly composed, your prince. The perfect heir, even better Lord Hand. He was a composed man, a distinguished one. Who could have known he'd be whispering such profanities right into his wife's ear?
He rolled his hips forward — again and again. Baelor earned himself your nails, lodged into his skin once more. He'd surely bear marks on the morrow — red, crescent shapes. He was glad — wanted to carry a physical memory of you with him. It would ease the burden of his duties — let him tap back into the moment when he had you in his arms.
And while your husband was already thinking of all possible ways to have you screaming his name tonight — your thoughts were gone. They left only the sensation of him fucking you in their wake. Your brain had been certainly liquified because of that by now. And to add to it all — you couldn't trust yourself to say anything. Your voice would probably break, only sounds leaving you would be moans and cries.
With each trust now — came a whimper from your lips. You could feel the familiar pressure settling low in your abdomen. It had your pussy greedily clamping down on his length — as if it wanted to keep him inside. You knew you wouldn’t last long like this — knew he'd bring you over the egde soon enough. You wanted however to hold out for a moment longer.
Your effort would prove to be in vain.
"My pretty, little wife. You don't even know how much I wanted you through all those months. How much will I have put into not allowing myself to touch you. Every time I saw you in your nightgowns I had to restrain myself. Now I wonder if you were trying to tempt me, test my patience with all those sheer shifts. But worry not, we will make up for all the time lost. The night is long, my girl." Bealor said, his own deep voice faltering as the walls of your cunt fluttered around him. Yet he kept going. Kept bullying his cock in and out of you, leaving you shaking and sobbing in his grasp.
His rhythm was steady — even though it was brutal. And that was probably what had sent you tumbling off the edge, your climax hitting you like a brick to the head. You cried out, your fingers tightened your grip on him — pulling a hiss out of his lips because you dug your nails so deep into his skin. Your peak had your body trembling, your pussy squeezing him hard enough to make his hips falter.
To his credit — the prince kept fucking you through your release. He didn't stop when you were almost unbearably thight around him. Nor when he felt your nails tear the barrier of his skin drawing blood. He just kept muttering praises you were too fucked out to hear — guiding you through the waves of pleasure. Letting the drawn out feeling slowly subside.
And as you realised — he has not reached his own peak yet. So he kept pushing into you — into your sensitive cunt.
"Baelor I- I don't know if I can-" you tried to say, your voice unsteady and hoarse. He delivered a particularly hard thrust at that — making you whine.
"You will. You will be a good girl for me and let me fill you up. You will lay there and take all I give you, my love." he said. The command in his voice had you nodding — agreeing to please him. To make him proud of you.
And so he continued pounding into your wet heat. He loved the feel of you, all trembling and mewling under his touch. Loved the way your back arched and the way your brow creased in ecstasy. It all had him close — teetering just right on the edge of what he was desperate to reach. So his hand sneaked between your bodies — allowing his thumb to cirlce the small, tender bead near the top of your sex.
The action had you sobbing and your pussy clenching down. You were already overstimulated and the added touch was almost painful. You were sure you could be heard by every servant and courtier in the Keep alike — you couldn't bring yourself to care.
Baelor's rhythm staggered. As it turned out all he needed was to feel your muscles spasm on his throbbing cock. He buried himself right to the hilt with a guttural moan — earning him yet another cry from your lips. And he allowed his release to overtake him, spilling his seed deep into you — stuffing you full of it. His strong shoulders shaked and one of his hands grabbed at the pillows — grounding himself through his pleasure.
And then your battle hardened husband collapsed — as if struck down. His weight was comforting — even if only for a moment. For before you could fully embrace him, he was already rolling you both to the side. It allowed you to stay in his arms as his cock stayed lodged in you. You sighed — a quiet, content sound.
The prince leaned back to look at your face — at your shut eyes and features slowly softening.
"You did well, sweet girl. Took me so good. I'm glad to have such a wife." he said before pressing a kiss to your forehead. You melted at his words.
When the both of you settled into a comfortable position you started gradually drifting off to sleep. That's when you felt him move. He carefully withdrew himself out of you — ever so delicate. Yet you still whimpered, still needed to hold onto him. He could only offer you an apologetic kiss.
You winced at the empty feeling — felt his seed start dripping out. It was strange — how easily you got used to him streching you out and how wrong it felt when he wasn’t doing so. Especially considering how a very short time ago you were falling apart trying to take all of his cock.
The chamber was quiet if not for your steady breaths — until you heard the unmistakable rustling of sheets and felt the sudden lack of a husband at your side. Your eyes flew open, searching for his figure in the dark room. You found him going towards a basin filled with water, a cloth in hand. Upon reaching the bowl he dipped the fabric into it. Your gaze followed his movements, trailing the expanse of his bare form. A strong, muscled back. Broad shoulders, relaxed now — as if an invisible weight had been taken off them. And a whole litter of already paled scars.
You wanted to kiss each and every one of them.
He came back to bed with the damp material and sat beside you — then leaned down to place a soft kiss upon your lips, one you returned. You felt his palm on your thigh, spreading your legs and reaching for your sex. Felt him gently run the cloth along your folds — collecting all the fluids. Even though he did it with the utmost care — an involuntary shudder ran through your body.
He kissed you again. It was all delicate, loving — tender. You wanted him close — as much as it was possible. So you pulled him down onto the matress at which he let out a hearty laugh — but allowed it nonetheless. As soon as he was at your level Baelor tugged you to his chest — wrapping his arms around you, his fingers slowly playing with your hair.
"Rest for now, sweet girl. I'm not done with you yet." he murmured and you said a quick prayer in your mind — asking the Gods to grant you strength.
You did as the prince told you to though — sleep creeping up on you easily in his embrace. The last thing you registered was him pulling up the linens to cover you both up and his hand stroking your hair.
You barely slept that night. Baelor's hunger for you disallowed you from rest — he claimed you in so many different ways it would've made even a whore blush.
On the morrow he simply dressed and with a kiss to your forehead, departed for his everyday duties — ever the proper heir. You stayed abed the whole day — feining indisposal.
You had never again slept in your own chambers after that.
You are days away from marrying Valarr, yet no one has told you what truly awaits on your wedding night. So you turn to the one man who has always guided you without false comfort—his father, your uncle, Baelor.
A Very (Un)Fortunate Turn of Events ✦┊Targaryen Fem!Reader
You, Princess and daughter of Prince Baelor, sneak away into the Ashford tourney and meet an interesting knight. Wine, dancing, and poor decisions follow.
Run It Back Like a VHS ✦┊Modern AU┊Fem!Reader
Aerion makes you the main focus for his little project.
M I S C E L L A N E O U S
akotsk men in bed ✦
an unfair retort ✦
every inch ✦
(I imagen her and us having "study sessions" she calls us in her classroom to talk about our grades or she calls us in her classroom so she can "help" us with something that we didnt understand 😻😻and could reader be a fem?. if u dont want to do this is ok!!🫶❤️)
Pairing: Valeria Garza x fem! Reader
Warnings: NSFW, smut, university AU!, professor/student trope, age gap implied
A/n: this is literally so sexy, I’m about to cream my fucking pants😩
Okay, so this is a university au, in which Valeria is one of the professors. I have a feeling that she would be teaching something hard and complicated - let’s say math.
Professor Garza is very strict. She’s one of the people who value discipline and order over anything else, punishing everyone who dares disturbing it. Valeria wouldn’t think twice before giving out detentions and extra work for behavior she deems unacceptable within auditorium. Chatting during her lectures? - detention. Forgetting to do homework she gave? - detention and double the amount of exercises you had to be handed over to her due to 3 pm the next day.
Many students fear Miss Garza, many hate her, many like her; but every single one has some sort of respect for her cold and stoic demeanor. Valeria is strict and demanding , but she’s also one of the bestest - many students wish to be teached by her.
And even if it seems nearly impossible, Valeria does have favorites. Very few - 3-4 students in whole university, but boy are they privileged.
Valeria values conformity over anything else. She prefers students that are polite and well-behaved, never causing any commotion or fuss. And you happened to be just that - miss goody two shoes, one of the bestest in your year, never once failing ho hand in whatever assignment Valeria gave you, no matter how complicated or cumbersome the work was.
Garza quickly caught onto your skills, and by the end of first year she already valued you over the rest of your group. Not only the brilliance of your mind, which was capable of so many amazing thing, drew her in; you’re quite a sight for sore eye as well - clothes always neat and ironed, hair framing your pretty face perfectly no matter what, light makeup only highlighting your natural beauty. Valeria couldn’t help her eyes lingering on your soft thighs whenever you decided on wearing a skirt or a dress to uni, flooding her head with images of these exact thighs spread wide before her.
It was quite a challenge for Valeria to find any mistakes in your works. You were a smart little girl, she had no doubts about it at that point. But every time, with extreme effort, professor Garza managed to find all the little flaws in your works. They did seem ridiculous tho, something other math professors wouldn’t even deem as a mistake. So first time this happened you came up to the older woman, asking about your strangely low grade; and Valeria, voice softer with feigned sympathy, patiently explained why she had to grade you so lowly. “I hope you do better next time, hm?” She’d say with a small smile, dismissing you from her classroom. Oh how the sight of your pouting lips and teary eyes got her off
As semester drew nearer to its end your works didn’t seem to improve even a slightest bit. At this point you were convinced that it was something personal - that professor Garza simply disliked you (oh if only you knew). So it was a surprise when Valeria called out for you to stay behind as everyone was leaving after the end of her lecture. You obediently descended the stairs of high auditorium, coming to her desk, standing there patiently as all the students left.
Once alone in the room, Valeria turned to face you, one hip leaning onto the edge of her working desk. Her dark eyes gazed at you from above thin lenses of her reading glasses, arms crossed over her chest making her tits perk up teasingly from within two unmade buttons of her white blouse.
“Y/n, I wanted to talk to you about your grades” she said, her voice sounding a bit softer than usual - voice she used on you only. Your body tensed slightly at her words, your fingers gripping your books more tightly as you looked at her tentatively.
“I made a small research on your academic performance and it seems that you only struggle with my subject. Is there any particular reason to this?” She asked, concern lacing her words.
You bit your tongue, fighting back bitter words of indignation - it was Valeria’s fault only that your grades in math were so low. But you kept silent, gazing dully onto the floor under your feet. Professor Garza heaved a heavy sigh, her heart thrumming loudly within her chest at what she was about to do.
“Y/n, you’re a very smart girl, and I don’t want you to ruin your record because of arithmetics. I can give you some extra credit” she said calmly, your ears perking up at her words.
You looked up at the older woman, obviously surprised - Valeria never gave extra credit, no matter the circumstances. You blinked rapidly a few times - you won’t lose such an opportunity, you’d be a fool if you did.
“Sure, I’d be very grateful!” You said quickly, looking at Valeria with wide eager eyes.
She only smiled at your words, nodding for you to come closer. As you did, she took your books and notes out of your hands, placing them on the faraway side of her desk. “You won’t need these”
As you were going to ask what she meant her warm hand clasped around the back of your neck, slamming you against her desk. With a small squeak you were bent over the table, your cheek squished against some papers scattered on top of it. You felt Valeria’s hot chest pressing against your back, her free hand glided up and down the side of your hip as she whispered into your ear “Now I need you to be a good little girl and spread your legs wider”
And you did. Arousal pooled in the pit of your stomach, making your knees go weak as Valeria’s hand slipped in between your soft thighs - just like she always dreamed of, massaging your soft pussy through thin material of your panties.
Soon enough these same panties were shoved into your mouth to muffle all desperate cries tearing through your chest as to not disturb other professors in nearby auditoriums; three of Valeria’s long fingers fucked in and out of your drooling pussy with loud squelching sounds, her fingertips grazing that one spot deep within you, making your eyes roll and toes curl.
You exited professor Garza’s auditorium on trembling legs, your makeup and hair unnaturally messy, eyes unfocused and bleary but - most importantly - with impeccable record on arithmetics.
But to keep your math performance this way, you had to visit professor Garza some more for extracurricular activities <3
Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Writers live off feedback, give us some love<3
valeria garza who kisses your ankle while fingering you
she has your ankles on her shoulders as she rams her fingers knuckle deep into your cunt. one of her hands is wrapped around your ankle, and the other is resting on your back, silently encouraging you to arch further.
she wants to kiss your lips so bad, but she knows if she leans forward to do so, her fingers will lose rhythm. this frustrated her, because she loves to kiss that scrunched up face of yours. however, your ankle was so easily accessible.. she couldn’t help herself.
you felt valeria’s lips pressed against your ankle, which made you clench around her fingers.
with a scoff, valeria’s thumb began to swipe your clit slowly, making you whimper pathetically. she let you ride out your orgasm, your hips rolling against her fingers until you’d had enough.
“my good girl,” she murmured, her hand smoothing down your thigh.
valeria went to the dryer to grab a fresh towel. your ankle subtly throbbed. glancing down, you noticed the light hickey that was beginning to bloom.
valeria garza who bites kisses your ankle while fingering you
Also quick note, I apologize in advance if this isn't as detailed as my headcanons on some other characters. It was definitely harder for me to come up w/ stuff for Val, especially bc girlie is nowhere near one of my favorites (I'm sorry 😔) but what better way to expand on writing then doing headcanons of characters you rarely think about? So, without further ado, I hope you enjoy!
(I completely understand that this type of content is not everyone's cup of tea, and that's ok! But, please scroll and ignore if this type of content isn't your thing as opposed to leaving any sort of negative comments.)
NSFW under the cut.
-THE brat tamer.
-Absolutely will not take your shit if you disobey her in any way, shape or form.
-"What did you just say to me? Do you have any idea who you're talking to?"
-Gets this look of absolute disbelief on her face if you dare to act like a brat, then her eyes turn dark and she's suddenly dragging you to bed.
-"I'm the woman who decides whether or not you get to cum every night, querida. And if you're gonna keep acting like a fucking brat, then it looks like you won't get to cum for the rest of the week."
-Her favorite forms of punishment include anything to do with orgasms. Whether it be edging you, overstimulating you or even denying you the right to cum entirely, she loves making you squirm and beg to release.
-Shakes her head and clicks her tongue, as if you begging to cum is the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard after you've misbehaved.
-"Oh, so now you're sorry? Chica, a sorry isn't going to cut it. I warned you about acting like a little brat, but you didn't listen. You never fucking listen to me."
-Proceeds to lecture you and switch between degrading you in English and Spanish as she either forces a strap down your throat or harshly plays with your clit.
-"Perra estúpida. Never listening to me and then acting surprised when I don't let you cum."
-Will also partake in bondage, cuffing up your wrists to the headboard before she runs a vibrator painfully slow over your pussy.
-As rough as she is when it comes to sex, if you're genuinely feeling upset about something, her gaze will turn more sympathetic (which she refuses to show to anyone besides you.)
-"What? What's wrong, amor?"
-And you're welcome to tell her about all of your troubles while she gently eats you out.
-Probably has multiple straps. Prefers buying the thickest one possible but she does have one that's much longer for when you really piss her off.
-Is very willing to spoil you with new sex toys and lingerie. Anything to make her pretty girl happy.
-Also, I feel like she'd switch between wanting to see you touch yourself and not letting you at all.
-When she's not there with you, she probably encourages you to masterbate and send her tons of videos of you doing so.
-But, if she's actually there and catches you touching yourself, it won't be pretty.
-"Oh, can I not satisfy you enough anymore? Is that it?"
-Then she fingers you so well your legs are shaking as she rants.
-"Look at you, cumming just from my fingers. What a slut."
-"And you really thought you could make yourself cum the same way I do? No, no, estás loca por pensar eso, querida."
-She wants anything sexual to be completely dependent on either her or toys she picks out for you.
-In other words, very dominant.
-In other other words, if you ever asked or God forbid tried to make her submit, you're a dead woman.
-"Thats it. You're getting too fucking bratty for your own good. Get over my Goddamn lap right now if you know what's good for you."
-And when you are on her lap, she'll switch between spanking your ass and spanking your pussy.
-Leaves hickeys on the most visible spots on purpose.
-Smirks when you get all shy about it, gently brushing your hair away as she chuckles.
-"Don't worry, amor. I won't make the marks too visible."
-But then she does, so she buys you the prettiest necklace with her name engraved on it as an apology, and another reminder of who you belong you.
-Some translations for the Spanish stuff, chica = girl, querida = darling, perra estúpida = stupid bitch, amor = love and "no, no, estás loca por pensar eso, querida" = no, no, you're crazy for thinking that, darling.
(Also I apologize if anything in Spanish is incorrect, online translators can only get you so far 😕)
Look at me go, writing about a character I don't even like and am not even attracted to because I'm straighter than a wooden ruler 🙃
This was honestly fun to write though! Valeria takes up like 0% of my thinking space, so coming up w/ headcanons for her when I barely remember she exists nor am attracted to her at all was a bit more challenging. Hoping y'all enjoyed this!
Rudy NSFW headcanons r coming up next, so be sure to lookout for those in the near future 🤭
Valeria's had a long, hard day. She's covered in blood and sweat and in dire need of a shower. Good thing there's room for two.
AO3
W.C- 2,423
A/N- Wish I got play irl but I know I'd never know what to do with a real woman #loservirgin. Also, it's taking me like a week to get out the final part of Pen Pal but I wrote this in one setting
Tags/Warnings- Established Relationship, Porn no Plot, Shower Sex, Fingering, Anal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Masturbation, Inappropriate Use of a Shower Head, Masturbation With a Shampoo Bottle, Body Wash as Lube (Don't Do That.)
🧼💦 🧼💦 🧼💦 🧼💦 🧼💦 🧼💦 🧼
The blood on Valeria's face and arms has dried. Caked onto her skin thickly and making her itch. When she scratches it, it flakes off and gets under her nails. The hot summer sun doesn't do anything to ease her discomfort.
She really can't get home fast enough. All she can think about is getting in the shower and washing away the blood and tension. The interrogation went on for far longer than she intended it to. But in the end she managed to get all the information she needed.
The town thins out until there's nothing but sparse trees and desert beside her. She drives along the lonely road. A shiny mirage stays persistently ahead of her. Reflecting the clear blue sky. The horizon wiggles from the scorching heat.
Her villa comes into view shortly. It's concrete and stone body a display of her abundance of wealth. Large floor to ceiling windows in the front show off the spacious, luxurious living room. Letting in tons of natural light during the day and covered by thick drapes for privacy at night.
She drives in through the gate and slowly rounds the fountain she had installed last month. Large in size with a peacock carved from pale limestone as the centerpiece. Its slim head held high proudly, beak open in a perpetually silent cry. Clean water spills from its mouth, flowing into the circular base below.
She parks neatly and kills the engine. As soon as she steps out from the air-conditioned car, she's blasted by the heat once more. She wipes her face with her hands and walks up towards the front door. Two stone lion statues stand guard beside the door. She gives the right one a quick pet - a superstitious habit she's developed since getting it.
She sighs and closes her eyes when she gets to step into the cool house.
"I'm home!" She calls out to you. Not sure if you even heard her or not. You probably didn't if you're on the other side of the house. She bends over and unties her boots, tugging them off and kicking them to the side. She peels her socks off and clutches them in her hand.
To her right stands a little wooden side table where she drops her keys. Valeria walks deeper into the house. She enjoys the cool polished wood beneath her bare feet. The floor shining and free of dirt from a very recent cleaning.
The master bedroom is located upstairs near the back. Hidden behind a large, dark wood sliding door. It's the third largest room in the house. Most of the right wall is just window. With a beautiful view of Las Almas miles in the distance and the emptiness of the surrounding desert. It's far enough from the town that at night, the sky isn't affected by light pollution, and she can see the stars.
You're inside. Sprawled on the queen-sized bed with music softly playing from the little speaker on the dresser. You're typing away at your laptop until you notice her. She smiles at you pleasantly. Getting that sweet, sweet hit of dopamine at the sight of you.
"Hello." She greets, coming and chucking her socks into a corner filled with other socks.
"Hello." You parrot, shutting your laptop and leaning back. She watches you look her over. "Someone got violent today." You comment, unperturbed by the blood.
Valeria grins and walks over to the dresser, grabbing a clean pair of shorts and a sports bra.
"I get violent every day, querida." She reminds you. She stands and closes the drawers. When she turns around, she sees you eyeing her intently. She knows that look on your face well. You have a ferocious appetite, she sees it often.
"You gonna have a shower?" You ask casually.
"Well I'm not about to spend the rest of the day covered in someone else's blood." She retorts. She gives you one last lingering look before she disappears into the attached bathroom.
She flicks on the lights and neatly sets down her clothes on the white marble counter. As soon as she's grabbing the bottom of her shirt to take it off, you're already sauntering into the bathroom to join her. When you strip naked, she allows herself to admire your nude body. All the dips, planes, and curves.
You didn't shut off the music and it softly drifts into the bathroom. Muffled by the walls and door and almost completely drowned out by the spray from the shower. She takes her time getting undressed while you fiddle with the water temperature.
One by one she peels off her soiled clothes and just lets them lay where they're dropped. She lets her form be fully bared to you. Her most natural self. A toned stomach and subtly muscular arms inked with years old tattoos. Breasts starting to get weighed down by gravity. Hairy legs because she just couldn't be bothered to shave in the last few weeks and a full, untamed bush. Her body isn't quite the same as it was when she was in her twenties or even early thirties. But she knows she's still something to be admired, and you never fail to do just that.
Steam curls up from the shower and you deem the temperature suitable. You step into the stone shower and Valeria follows behind you, sliding the glass door closed. It almost immediately fogs up. She steps under the hot spray and closes her eyes. Letting the water stream down her jaw and chest.
The rough fiber of a fresh washcloth presses against her abdomen. Soap froths from the gentle circles you move on her skin. Tinted pink from the blood. She stands there languidly. Enjoying the repetitive motions of you cleaning her. You carefully go over every inch of her. Her chest, back, arms, shoulders, neck, legs. Your wet body pressed close against hers the entire time.
Your movements become noticeably more intentional when they dip between her legs. Your fingers gently push through the curly hairs on her pubic mound and slip between her folds. Your face is pressed against her back. Your warm breath puffing against her shoulder blades and making the inside of the shower feel even hotter.
She blinks off little water droplets from her eyelashes.
"Can't have a single shower without you trying to grope me." She scolds, not seriously. Truth is, she enjoys your attention very much. Valeria has a very tough outer shell and many mental barriers. But even she wants to feel wanted and desired sometimes. And she feels both with the way you're unable to keep your hands off of her. She can feel your cheeks moving. Rising in a smile.
"Stop showering then. Let yourself get all gross and sweaty. But then maybe I'll just end up licking you clean anyway..."
"Ugh. You're disgusting." She replies, shaking her head.
Your response to that is to press a kiss to her shoulder and glide your fingers through her lower lips, gathering the slick that's slowly starting to leak from her entrance.
"Maybe." You coo. "But you're as bad as I am so I don't want to hear it."
She huffs at you and closes her eyes. The sensation of you toying with her swollen clit and the hot rush of water battering her front fight for her focus. She turns her head to the side and breathes heavily.
Your hand moves to cup her ass, squeezing it roughly.
"I wish you wore bikinis more often. You have the ass for it." You say.
"Yeah? Thanks. I'll go shopping for some tomorrow." She replies dryly. You scoff and remove your hand from her ass. From the corner of her eye, she watches you squirt body wash onto your fingers.
She's not prepared for the cool, gel-like liquid to touch her asshole. She sucks air between her teeth and feels your other hand wrap around her arm.
"Sorry. Forgot it feels cold." You slowly rub it around the outside before letting your index finger slide inside. Her hole stretches to accommodate the appendage, and her cunt tightens around nothing at the unfamiliarly full feeling. You meticulously lube her up. Making sure it's nice and comfortable for her. Your middle and ring finger begin to prod her core.
You pump your fingers in and out of her steadily. Making her feel impossibly filled with two of her holes plugged. She moans loudly. The sounds echoing off of the stone tiling. She clenches around your fingers. Shuddering at the way they catch on her gummy walls.
She reaches down to rub her clit, rolling around the little nub between her fingers.
"Are you close?" You murmur over her shoulder.
"Yes." She breathes. "Very, keep going."
Pleasure pulses through her lower abdomen and up into her chest. Pressure builds in her naval and she shuts her eyes, grunting and arching back against you. She focuses on that feeling, chasing it and catching up fast.
She clamps down on your fingers as she orgasms. Shuddering and trying to ride it out for as long as she can. When the feeling goes from pleasurable to uncomfortable, she pulls herself off of your fingers. With the removal of them she feels a small gush of liquid follow, sticking to her thighs. She reaches down and washes it off.
She turns around and lets the water pelt her back instead. You squint against the stray droplets, mouth open slightly to breathe. She grabs your face and pulls you in for a heavy kiss. Both your mouths are wet and slip right against each other with ease.
She glides her hands down your arms and grips your hips to pull you close to her. The tightness which she keeps you pressed to her makes her breasts ache, but she doesn't let go.
"We're wasting water." She mutters between kisses.
"You know you don't give a damn about the water, Valeria." You retort.
"No?" She replies, grabbing you by the backs of your thighs and hoisting you up onto the ledge, knocking bottles out of the way. They fall to the ground, the water drums against them.
She steps between your legs, cunts almost touching.
"I care a lot about the water. You should too." She says sternly, grabbing your jaw and making you look at her. "Let me show you why." She turns and stands on her toes, struggling to unhook the shower head from the wall. The metal is slippery and she's being sprayed in the face, nearly waterboarded, but she succeeds. She grabs it and pulls it over to you, dragging the rubber cord across the floor.
She messes with the settings until the water is concentrated into a steadier stream. She doesn't even have to ask you to spread your legs. You're doing that all on your own. Revealing your already wet and glistening pussy. Beads of arousal drip from your fluttering core. The sight is enough to make her mouth water. She hovers the shower head over your clit. The pressure makes you jolt and you lean your head back. But Valeria doesn't like that.
"Uh uh, amor, I'm teaching you something here." She scolds you. "Doesn't that feel good?" She asks.
You nod, lips pulling into a pleasured grin.
"That's why you should care about the water. Have you ever used the showerhead like this before?" She tries to keep looking into your eyes but her eyes inevitably drift down. Your hole flutters hypnotically, flooding with slick and water.
"Nuh uh." You gasp. "I didn't even notice that ours was detachable."
She smiles wolfishly. "Maybe now you'll start taking more showers by yourself." She taunts.
"Whatever. You'd- you'd come running like a dog in heat the second you heard me." You roll your eyes.
She watches you closely. She's learned all your tells during your time together. She can pinpoint when you're getting close. As soon as you're about to climax she pulls away the showerhead, taking away your stimulation.
"Ugh. Come on, Valeria." You snap, glaring at her. "Don't be cruel. I let you cum." She raises a brow.
"Who said I wasn't going to let you come?" She replies. She lowers herself to her knees, scraping them on the stone floor.
She's eye level with your pussy. A far better view then the one in the bedroom. She's too excited to take her time and tease you so she dives in. She circles her tongue over your clit expertly. Your fingers tangle in her hair and tug her closer. Effectively burying her face in your pussy. That tangy, musky smell surrounds her. So very you.
Valeria herself is getting worked up. Blindly, she reaches behind her for one of the fallen shampoo or conditioner bottles and grabs one. She happily eats you out while she fumbles with the bottle. She positions it under her so that the cap is upright. She bounces herself on it. It's not big or long enough to provide any real pleasure but the stimulation of something going inside of her is enough.
Your legs twitch your moaning becomes more unrestrained. Turning into deep grunts. She gives your clit a sharp suck, which earns her a jerk. The shower is filled with grunting, running water, and the faint sound of squelching. The water and steam stick to her back, making her feel sticky.
Without warning your legs wrap around her head and you grind against her face. It makes it kind of hard to breathe but honestly, Valeria doesn't mind at all. Should she die by suffocating in your pussy she shall die a fulfilled woman. She waits until you untense and go limp before pulling away.
You laugh and let her help you to your unsteady feet.
"Okay. We should wrap this up. My fingers are all wrinkly." You say. She glances at her own hands. Seeing her own fingers all pruny as well.
"Yeah. You're right. Shampoo my hair?"
You swat her chest. "All that and you're making me wash your hair?" You reply with exaggerated exasperation.
"Hey! I think I did most of the work here!" She defends herself, picking up the shampoo bottle and handing it to you pointedly. "Now get to washing."
"You're so entitled." You say lovingly, beginning to lather shampoo into her short thick hair. "I was thinking of getting takeout for supper."
"Mhm. Okay." Valeria nods. She closes her eyes and enjoys the soothing feeling of your fingers rubbing over her scalp.
F!Reader, MDNI, 18+, smut, F!sub-Reader x F!Dom- Valeria
(If you want an M!reader version please let me know)
A sexual relationship with the enemy sounded better each time you and she spent the night and early mornings in each other's arms, moaning and whimpering each other's name. It all started after Los Vaqueros betrayed you, and left you to die on enemy grounds. Valeria thought you needed some interrogation so for nights on end she was the one who would torture and please you but that was only when you would give her good information on Los Vaqueros.
As days and nights turned into weeks and months, you and she started to grow some more sexual tension amongst each other. She no longer pleased you when you gave her what she wanted but rather when she needed to release some of her own pleasure. Nights, when she held a knife to your throat, turned to nights when she kissed your body, pleased all your sensitive spots.
Soon, you were no longer the enemy to her but rather her lover and toy to use. She'd make you wear short skirts and short dresses, for all to see the territory she had claimed the night before. All her soldiers knew who you had become to their leader, they never disrespected you but rather protected you from any enemy and threat you'd encounter on days Valeria wanted you to go and buy pretty dresses to wear for her.
Days, when she would remember how the Vaqueros left you behind, were when she'd record you and her having sex. You rode her thigh as she slapped your already abused tits, moaning louder by the second as she made you look into the camera and moan her name. "Fuck...please...please I need more!" you whimper as she slaps your tits again, harder this time. When you and her started to record such moments, she knew she wanted to add something more to your body, piercings. Your hardened nipples wearing red dangly jewels, tongue pierced for when she made you eat her out.
At times, she wears some strapons and makes you ride her this way, for the camera and for her own pleasure. Tonight was almost the same. She wanted you to be at some meeting for her, fishnets, a short little skirt and a tight shirt where your tits almost showed off completely to the rest of the men in the room. You sat on her lap, she would caress your thighs and if she was bored, she'd slide her hands under your skirt and slowly rub her fingers at your wet entrance. "Wish I could fuck you on this table, hermosa." She whispers There were times that if you misbehaved she would not allow you to wear panties, but that was just on rare occasions.
After the meeting was done, she and you went upstairs. Closed shut, lights dimmed and you pushed into the bed. She slowly spread your legs open, crawling to your wet slit. A vibrator in hand as she slowly begins to turn it on and place it on you. Once you let out the first moan, she turns it off and ties your hands to the bed frame. She slowly begins to undress you, kissing and nibbling on your soft skin. Your soft and delicate moans fill the room, pleasing her ears with each taste she gets from you.
Valeria soon removed all the layers of clothing you had on, and small moans left her as she began to ride your thigh. Her wet cunt on your thighs, giving you pleasure of your own. You became wetter and even more sensitive when she placed a vibrator in your cunt. Your hips moved a little, back arching more and more, legs shaking a little, and your sweet moans fed her ego. She moans more when her own cunt becomes more sensitive, before she reaches climax, she gets off your thigh, lowers herself and her tongue meets your wet cunt.
She removes the vibrator, hands either on your hips or griping your thighs. You eventually reach your own climax and scream her name in pleasure. She slaps your sensitive cunt, spitting on it and continuing to eat you out as you beg for mercy. She pushes your lower abdomen once her fingers are inside of you, and your tears run down as you become even more sensitive to her touches.
With more thrusts of her fingers into you, the more moans and whimpers she'd get out of you. You squirted a bit and she happily got back to eating you out. She moaned and made eye contact as she savoured your delicious fluids. If you were too flustered and had to look away she'd slap your cunt and make you look at her.
After she is done with you, she unties you and grabs a towel, cleaning your body. Leaving kisses as she praises you. "You did so well for me." Her kisses turned softer as she cuddled your body. You are both tired and holding each other as more kisses turn into pillow talk. Soon you both slept, holding the other after another beautiful night together.
A/N: Was this okay? I really hope it was and if it wasn't sorry
Been thinking about Valeria Garza X fem!reader lately...
- When the two of you first met, you were working in a humble flower shop, it was the middle of a scorching Las Almas summer and you had been in the middle of watering your plants when a woman you didn't recognise walked in. Gosh, you thought she was just gorgeous, and she definitely noticed you admiring her as she asked you questions about different plants. Unbeknownst to you, she had been watching you for weeks now, and she was just waiting for the right timing to get you to go to her home and keep you there, where you would be safe with her.
- Marries you only a year after the two of you started dating, she's a woman who knows what she wants after all. You two eloped in a local cathedral. And for the first time in a long time, she allows herself a break to spend her honeymoon with her new wife, you. She took you on the best vacation money could buy, and even let you choose the location yourself but saved you most of the planning. Don't worry mijita, she has it all worked out.
- She loves showing you off. Val has never once been afraid of PDA in front of her men, she wants them to remember what's hers after all. Has you sitting on her lap during meetings, important or otherwise, with an arm snaked around your waist at all times while she discusses business. You always did find those meetings quite dull, but laying around without her was even more dull.
- Constantly takes you out on any kind of date you can think of. Movies, dinner dates, bowling you name it, she's done it. Your favourite has always been when she takes you for long walks across the beach, hand in hand, the sunset illuminating her strong features (she actually proposed on the same beach hehe). With El Sin Nombre as your wife, you have nothing to fear sweetheart.
Quick A/N: Hey cuties, I may not post for a little while cause it's the middle of cosplay convention season, and I have been incredibly busy lately. Thanks for understanding 🖤🖤🖤 -Lilith
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