Welcome in, I’ve been fixated on all things ASOIAF for a few years. Now that the writing bug had bit me it felt like it was finally time to stop just lurking around tumblr and actually make an account!
📣Open To Request📣
Masterlists:
Daeron “the Drunken” Targaryen
Maekar Targaryen
Ser Duncan The Tall
Ser Criston Cole
Miscellaneous
•Chains Of Lies (CristonXRhaenyra Daughter)
•The Queens Disgrace (Criston&Aegon Threesome)
•A Final Comfort (CristonXWarcamp Nurse)
•Oaths Undone (CristonXSepta Novice)
•Penitence (Part 2 of Oaths Undone)
•A sweet thing (Baelor Targaryen X Niece Reader)
Kinktober:
•Haunting My Flesh (AemondXAegonXDaemonXJaceXRhaenyra's Daughter)
•Between Dreams And Daybreak (Modern Boyfriend Criston X F Reader)
•Wood, Want, and Witness (Harwin Strong X F reader public sex)
summary: a trip back to your home brings back warm memories and a break for your family, and the constant chaos of the fact your husband and children just can’t handle the heat.
pairing: maekar targaryen x dornish wife!reader, maekarlings / mother!reader
warning(s): just fluff, family dynamics, cursing
word count: 1.8k
a/n: i did say my series would be out first but we’re going to wait on that because it’s coming!! so here’s this.. also to mention, we need more dornish!reader rep !!
Streams of dappled sunlight lit up the chambers in shades of gold and amber, the soft bristling of sheets being the only thing to wake you.
Snores rumbled brazenly into your back, the weight of your husbands chest pressed over your body, sticking along with his skins clammy and pressed into yours. Your arms stretched, attempting free from the heaviness above you but his arm had curled tighter.
“It is too hot.” A mumble whispered into your neck in annoyance.
You chuckled, “It is when you are on top of me.” Your arm clutched around his, somehow still impossibly close despite his complaint.
“No it is this southern sun at an ungodly fucking hour.”
“You should have gotten used to it by now husband,” You turned to face him, twisting in his hold where the fabric of your nightgown bunched around your legs. “I do believe it runs in your blood too.” He only hummed back, pursing his lips in a way where your hand planted across his cheek. He knew better than to protest you, even if he had wanted to, and he didn’t.
After all, you were right.
Dorne.. your homeland. Starfall to be exact. The secluded and mountainous region to the west of your husband’s own motherland of Sunspear, and its ruling house Martell. The castle had stood proud and poignant just as you’d remembered it, the pearlescent rock striking in the sunlight as you’d arrived in carriage over the river Torrentine.
And such many days worth of travelling had proven worthwhile for more than just memory.
Nights burned brighter with the moon clear over the horizon upon the Summer Sea. Spices and incense filled the breeze, and dancers and roamed freely amid court spreading their wears from overseas. You were welcomed by your cousins eagerly, surrounded by none other than your uncle, who ruled the castle after your own grandsire.
It was a custom that both you and Maekar had grown used to, and more than most, comfortable. There was something different there, something softer, warmer. And you had decided you had wanted to share it with your children since their birth. Though court duties and responsibility had proven you unable to depart as often as you’d liked from Summerhall. The last visit being only when you were withchild with your fourth and first girl, Daella.
And so you had taken the chance, ordered respite for a week or two at least, and for Summerhall to be housed by Prince Aerys and his wife Lady Aelinor in your absence.
For the time being, your own family could spent time together, differently.
No court or duty, just peace.
And it had gifted you just that.. for the most part. The youngest children had played from the solar to the riverbank, basking in the sunshine and splashing in the trickling stream alcoved by orange blossoms. The very place you had spent playing as a girl.
It was supposed to be peaceful, gentle and welcoming. It was one of those things. You embraced it in your stride, welcoming as such, the sun gleaming across your skin as you felt the warmth seep in as it once did, basking in the joy around you. Your dress was much different from usual, the soft thin silk of violet gracing your body and hugging at your waist, slinking at your shoulders. The girls wore something similar, dresses of rose and lilac flowing to their ankles as they twirled in awe. Something the courts of home would look unkindly on, but now you found it in you not to care.
Your sons wore their usual tunics, though lighter, in shades of blue and purple and orange replacing the usual crimson and black. And by some grace they had done it without fuss, exploring the grounds from their own respective interests. Aerion had found himself taken with the training yard, watching closely as the master at arms sharpened his sword. A much different one than he had ever seen, the hilt was twisted in gold, the blade rounded with its far point curved inwards.
Aemon had mapped out every corner of the castle, shading himself inside with tapestries and paintings. Daeron had sat himself at the edge of the gardens near a group of gossiping ladies, sipping on a light summer wine with a smirk placed on his lips.
And your Egg, ever the adventurer that he was, had watched over you and the girls as you waded in the waters, scouting the perimeter of the mouth of the river as it fled out into the sea. Your own sworn sword.
There was a shared contentment surrounding you, and you breathed easily for the first time in a long time. Though it seemed such peace could not last for long, as most of your children insisted they take after their father.
“Mother must it be so hot.”
Rhae whined aloud, tugging onto the small of your skirts as you walked with them.
“You sound much like your father.”
The glass ceiling of the conservatory opened up into the courtyard up the stairs from you, where your eyes wandered. Maekar stood in the archway, seemingly enthralled at whatever your uncle had said, loosening the fabric of his collar. His face was already a beat red, nodding along carefully with a gritted tight lipped smile.
The gardens were lush and in bloom, and the girls had already plucked small flowers from their beds and tucked them into their delicately braided hair. But even that did little to cure the one problem they all seemed to have.
Your eyes fell downward when you heard the whine again, this time more tired. Small violet eyes blinked up at you with a reddened flush that matched her father’s. Your hand graced smoothed over her cheek, moving the pair of you into the shade under the tree.
“We haven’t been out for long my love, have you been in the shade yet..?”
She only stared, huffing, “No.”
You had warned them of this, that it was not like it was at home. That the sun could burn just as easily as rainfall in the South. But still they did not listen. And to make matters worse, you found she was not the only one affected.
Egg had slowed down from running, swinging his legs over a rock where he had placed himself just beside Daella, who instead of plucking flowers she only fumbled with the grass, sweat beading her brow.
From where you were crouched you could see the rest of them. Daeron doing what he could to fan himself and wipe away the sweat from his forehead. Aerion pretended not to care as such, but even he had perched himself panting against the balustrade.
Aemon strolled out that very moment, and a smile came across your face as you shook your head. Certainly he was your smartest child, and had already minded himself from the sun since your arrival. But still the glare hit the pale of his skin as soon as he had walked into it.
“Gods be good.”
You swept the silver strands from Rhae’s face, sitting her down where the bank dipped into a little poo, “You must take breaks from the sun sweetling.. here.” Blue water sloshed against the sand and the tree root, and somehow for a moment it felt cooler.
“Better?” You raised an eyebrow at her.
“Better, mother.” She smiled then, urging the other two to join her, and they did so without fuss, soon all lazing happily by the stream with their feet dangling in the water.
“Perhaps a drink will be best hm?”
They all mumbled out a string of pleases as you took off, ordering them to stay put and where you could see them. You stepped up to the higher courtyard, smiling softly at the ladies who were just as unaffected as you, placing yourself at your husband’s side.
“Niece? lovely of you to join us.. I was telling your husband about the tourneys soon to be held here.” Your uncle spoke proudly, resting an arm out where you stood between them.
“Well, no doubt Aerion should be entering upon the lists, uncle.”
“In this heat? If you insist to kill the boy.” Maekar spoke as he leaned toward you, wrapping an arm at your waist instinctively.
“That was what I was here to mention. Might we pass water to the children they seem rather.. exhausted from this heat.”
“I forget you Targaryen’s are not as used sun as us.. of course..” He signalled then, calling a young squire over to hand the children, rather everyone, cups of wine and water. His dark ringlets mussed his head as he nodded, circling back into the castle.
“Perhaps you could use it too, my Prince.” Your uncle gestured to your husband with a teasing smile, still pulling on the seam of his collar to let air in, or the lack thereof.
“I’am fine.” He gritted as the pair of you laughed, placing a hand into his chest gently.
He soon departed as he was called away by yet another lord, leaving you both with a smile and a gentle command to find shade. You took his arm as you both made for the terraced table and chairs looking out over the gardens.
Aemon stood with a glass, and as soon as you looked, so did each one of them, taking gulp after gulp from the cups the squire had handed them.
“Well it seems one of our children listens at least.” You eyed Aemon and then to Maekar, tapping the metal of the table with a smirk.
“I’m surprised there is one at all.” He rolled his eyes, but they did not move from you, instead he took you in. For such chaos you all seemed to bring, you looked so peaceful, so at home. And he’d have shirked all duty then and there if he could just to see you in such a state.
As beautiful, as always.
A part of him seemed to relax at the sight, sighing as his back pressed deep into the chair with a creak, watching over the sights and account for every one of your children.
And much like your uncle’s request and your own, Maekar had done the very same. He drank the glass down in front of him instantly when you were not looking, pouring another not long after.
Stubborn.
—
The day continued on, and before long, after helpings of jugs of water, and a steady order to mind themselves in the sun, the children were rejuvenated once more. Egg splashed about in the water, catching his sisters where they fought back and hid with a mischievous expertise.
And beside you and your husband, your three eldest boys decided to sit with you. Aemon with his book, Daeron sipping from light summer wine, and Aerion with a down turned scowl that was the very image of his father’s, but from the pull in his brow you knew. He too, was content.
Though it didn’t help where you all had ended up, with supper concluded and bellies full, the evening brought different problems. Ones you had managed to account for just in time.
“I think it is burnt..” Daella whined.
“Me too.” Rhae flopped herself across the bed, trying not to pick at the skin.
“It itches.” Egg cried at last, studying the burnt skin on his legs.
“Do not itch it.” You called at last, thanking the maester from the doorway and stepping in a tour skirts fluttered behind you.
The ointment slid cool between your hands, smelling of aloe and mint, dipped from the jar one of the maesters had given you. The old man had offered to do it himself, but with the state of your children, you rathered your hand be torn off than someone else’s.
“I trust you can do it on your own..” Daeron sagged his shoulders and nodded, dipping his hand into the pit to take it into his hands with an eagerness. Surprisingly he hadn’t been so awful, not the fairest of your children, only his shoulders and nose had been burnt red by the sun, and he spread it onto the skin generously.
The girls had a rash from their legs, as well as Egg, who has it on his neck and arms and his chest from the low crease of his tunic. Your hands were gentle, as soothing as they could have been across broken skin, but yet all three of them eased at once.
“It feels nice and cool.”
“It should do, it is meant to help heal the skin. Just do not cover it.”
They nodded tiredly, resting back onto cushions and think blankets just to ease the pain. Aemon had fanned himself in the corner, scrunching his nose when you made a swipe to dot some of the ointment onto the redness there.
Aerion once more insisted he did not need it, laying back into the armchair with his chin tilted high.
“Suit yourself. Come later and you will wish you had..”
He passed you by with a hmph, a small sound, and not a dismissing one, but one that a young man’s pride would not let him lower himself to defeat. Though, he would make up for that later.
The final opponent was one you had saved specially for last. Your husband. He lay out on the bed, fanned by the faint, cool breeze, and opening of his linen shirt.
“If you are to put that on me, I will throw it form the window.”
“Now husband.. I believe you want this to heal do you not?” You smirked, clambering up onto the bed beside him, kneeing just where his legs spread out.
You fought the want to laugh. He had been bunt nearly everywhere, his face a beat red, his neck and chest sore to the touch, even his legs and lower waist through the thin of his doublet. The children watched on in silence, but amused all the while, at the sight of their own father attempting to fend you, their mother off of him.
“I will be gentle..” You dipped your fingers back into the pot, feeling the many eyes burning into the back of your head, no matter how tired.
“Mhm.” Maekar managed out, his eyes screwed shut with his head placed delicately onto the pillow. You’d opened his shirt a little way, just to spread some on, across his collarbones and down to his chest, then to his arms and back up to his cheeks. He winced at nearly every application, though he’d deny it.
“There.. all done. Almost a new man, my Prince.” Your lips placed to his nose carefully, pulling away just before he could tug you back down, groaning as you rolled into his side with a sharp sting. And once more, even through the pain, and the hushed giggled across the room, he did not move either of you, enclosing an arm around you tenderly.
---
Rhae stayed sleeping in your arms as you scooped her to your chest, standing at the open balcony, looking out into the dusk sky. Shades of orange and gold had spurned themselves into violets and blues over the distant horizon. Every tree and flower from the garden had been silhouetted, lit only by the few lamps that passed the place.
And for a time, it was still.
In such a large chamber, and the inability to move near enough at all, every one had fallen asleep in yours and Maekar’s. Daeron strewn out across the armchair, Aemon and Aerion in the others, with sly dottings of ointment on his chest, Daella on one end of the daybed and Aegon on the other. You too had fallen asleep on one of the benches after laying with Maekar, soothing your youngest to sleep where it was too uncomfortable. Where she only found the comfort in your arms.
“Are you going to stay up all night, or are you coming to bed?”
You smiled at the gruff voice calling out through the dark. Fingers balled in a fist at the curve of your neck, soft snores rumbling into your chest as you turned, the moonlight casting shadows across your face.
Maekar took in the sight for a moment, propped up into his elbows with sleep still thick in his eyes, but he still felt it, the familiar skip of his heart. He had seen you hold every one of them like that, and now even in the moment, all of you exhausted, boiling hot and nearly cooked from the Dornish sun, the lines of his face eased, pulling into a small smile.
“If I can get this one to lay down, then yes..”
“Come, bring her here…” His arm raised through the dark, beckoning you forwards. You had barely made it the few paces across the stone floor to the bed before he took her in his arms, her small body fussing with a little wince before settling. The familiar comfort between yours and Maekar’s arms where she had laid many a restless night.
And somehow that way, all of you had fallen to sleep quicker than you’d imagined, combing your hand through Rhae’s hair as an arm spread around you both. Though one thing was for certain, perhaps you would opt for a day of shade on the morrow.
cw: smut (+18, MDNI!). canon divergence, modern!au, age difference (baelor is in his late 40s and reader in her late 20s), erectile dysfunction, oral (female!receiving), pussy pronouns, pussy worship, spanking, slight anal play, outercourse. | wc: 1633
modern!baelor targaryen x female!reader.
part one.
i just can't stop thinking about how BAELOR is older than the men you usually date, and the way he'd have you gripping the bedframe as he circles the tip of his tongue across your needy, throbbing, swollen clit.
it would be morning—the sun has barely risen and he's lying in bed, with your clothes thrown carelessly around the vintage frame and his arms circled around your thighs. sunlight, warm and golden, would seep in through the blinds, bleeding across the wooden floor little by little, occupying the space as a clock, somewhere nearby, ticks, and ticks, and ticks.
it had rained the night before: not too violently, not for too long, just hard enough for a faint chill to remain whenever the wind blew in through a set of wooden blinds that were left open half-way. it makes the beams creak and the walls whistle, and it brings a shiver up your spine.
it is, after all, the beginning of summer.
BAELOR’s hands, however, feel hot against your skin. his fingers are splayed along the expanse of your thighs, digits pressing into the plush skin as he circles them in a caress. and his tongue, running along your puffy, glistening folds, feels the warmest of all.
"look at how pretty she is," he murmurs, pointing his words with a lick. "how she throbs and leaks, begging for my touch. tastes so sweet, too. could just—mhm, could just lick her for hours."
he just about has been.
he’d started just as you were waking up, dragging his fingers along your slit under your sleeping shorts, sucking them into his mouth before asking you to ride his face instead. and how were you supposed to refuse?
"no, no," he hums, sucking your clit into his mouth as he pulls you down lower against his face. "i didn't say hover, pretty girl. i said sit."
a moan rips through your lips as his tongue enters your hole, and he circles it around as he revels in the sound. he gulps, savoring your taste, feasting on your slick, whimpering against your skin at the way you begin to move your hips over his head. he sucks around your hole as he kneads at the bottom of your ass, working his lips in tandem with his tongue.
his hands move again, making you gasp, making your teeth sink into your bottom lip the moment he uses them to land a spank just over the place he was kneading. and, as if feeding off of your response, as if growing only from your pleasure, does it again the moment you begin to move faster.
"that's right. mhm, take what you need. yeah, just take what you need," he moans against your skin, moving his face upwards to rest his tongue beneath your throbbing clit. he lays it flat, feeling you move against it, your cunt dripping down his chin.
and there’s a part of him that’s still ashamed. there’s a part of him that still whispers and grumbles in the back of his head, telling him that he’s too old for you, that you deserve better, that you should want better—
you quiet it, moaning over him. he puts it to rest, willing it away if only for a moment, nibbling on your clit as he treads a hand between your folds, collecting moisture with his fingers.
he moves his thumb back, digit dripping with your slick, and circles it, softly, tenderly, along your asshole. he hears you gasp, feels you tremble, and tongues at your clit as he applies more pressure with his finger. the tight, puckered ring of muscle clenches under his digit, and he presses in, and a moan, broken and hoarse, echoes across the room.
yours. or his?
BAELOR laps at your cunt, moving his finger in slow, delicate motions, accompanying your moans with the wet, debauched sounds of his sucking.
“i’m so—BAELOR, i’m—”
“yeah? gonna cum?” he groans, moving his finger in deeper, sucking your clit in harder. “soak my face, yeah? gonna do that for me?”
you want to answer. you try to.
but then BAELOR’s tongue flicks along your pearl once more, and you’re weightless, and you’re sinking down, and you’re soaring up. your hands grip the headboard so tight your knuckles begin to hurt, and you’re seeing blue, and pink, and white, and all the colors of the rainbow on the back of your eyelids as you move faster against his face, riding out the bliss.
your orgasm ripples through you in a way that has him all but feeling his, almost succumbing to it, almost coming untouched.
he’s careful when he pulls his finger out of your hole, caressing it once more when it starts to clench at the loss.
his cock rests over his stomach, soft and heavy, bright red and leaking. you lean back, opening your mouth as you spit on your palm, and he groans into your clit. your head is fuzzy with want when you take reach back and him in your hand, hot, throbbing, wet against your palm as you grip on his base.
“can i ride it?”
BAELOR stops. he halts in his movements at your question, his brain trying to make sense of the words as he tastes you on his lips.
“pretty girl, i can’t—”
“i know,” you say, noticing the way he moves his hand back up so they both rest on your hips. “i saw something online, and i want to try—you don’t have to be hard. and i’ll stop if it doesn’t feel good for you, i promise.”
there’s a pause.
seconds trickle by raindrops on his skin, and he feels them drip, drip, drip away as the voice, speaking louder, being meaner, pops back inside his head. you shouldn’t have to settle. he should be able to make you feel good, his cock should be—
“please. i really want to try it.”
and then, there’s that. there’s you, quieting it again, almost as if sensing his shame before he can let it fester. before he can let it burrow.
"alright,” BAELOR says, parting from your cunt so he can speak, breath hot against your tender skin. “try whatever you want, love.”
he presses one last kiss upon your clit, smiling when it throbs, and he knows he would have given in either way. you take in a breath, deep, and stretch your back to move down against his figure.
your fingers map down your descent: kissing his clavicles, feeling the mat of hair on his chest. they trail down his stomach, caressing his belly, following the path set by a graying happy trail.
and then, with your eyes set on his, you let yourself hover over his lap for a brief, fleeting minute. your skin is still buzzing in the aftershocks of your orgasm, charged with electricity, eager for more.
"go on. rub yourself off on my cock. make yourself cum on it again," a pause. he takes in a breath, moving an arm to have it rest under his head.
there is something he doesn't say—he does not need to. it lingers between you, restless, charged, and you lower your cunt onto his cock, your lips glistening with his spit, his cock covered in yours, and feel the head of it come in contact with your clit.
you don't need him to be hard get him off. it feels just as good, just as he is.
"that's it. that's my girl. rub that perfect pussy all the way along my cock. cum on my—fuck, cum on my cock."
it throbs under you, twitching as your clit runs all the way down from the base to his sensitive tip. you move your hips in a slow, circling motion, putting down pressure, and a moan catches in his throat. you move your hips back, rubbing yourself faster against him, and it breaks free.
and there’s no shame in this moment. he doesn’t overthink. he doesn’t let himself stray away from the way your tits move with each and every one of your movements. he doesn’t let himself stray away from the sound of your moans, soft and melodic, loud and violent, each and every one existing as a response to him.
he doesn’t let himself stray away from the way your folds, dripping and puffy, swallow the humiliation whole as they take on his cock.
he is not feeble. he does not fade away.
he watches as another orgasm rips through your body: making you shake, making you shiver, making you rut down against his cock in fast, desperate motions that have him choking on air. you look beautiful like this. otherworldly. he decides to treasure the sight for as long as he lives.
and he cums like that. you’re hunched over, stiff nipples pressing down against his chest, hips still moving down against his cock as he begins to spill. white messy ribbons paint the outside of your cunt, and you don’t stop moving, and he feels like he’s on fire.
your hands find his over the mattress.
a sound is born somewhere along the bottom of his stomach, traveling upwards, ripping past his lips as a breathless moan. he doesn't close his eyes, doesn't dare to miss a moment—just stares at you as he pants.
he looks at you, lost in your pleasure, with your eyes closed and your head laid to rest over his figure. his cock is soft, beating with a pulse, resting between your slit the way a heart would inside a ribcage. he still smells like you. his cum is smeared across the inside of your legs, warm and thick, and his fingers close in around yours, tight and sure.
A/N: SOOOOO I kinda dicked up the prompt but I have more coming but he does get emotional and weepy???? Sorry hope you like though🥺
Tags: pwp, that kinda has plot?, pnv sex, fem!valarr, plus sized val, they’re down bad for eachother, Baelor best dad ever moment, titty sucking, lowk body worship, short n sweet, yeah they’ll get married and it will be catastrophic but it’s fine for now, half ass beta
Valarr Targaryen was the jewel of the Red Keep. She knew that much. Coddled and kept since she was born. Baelor Breakspear’s beloved daughter. A trueborn princess of the realm, full of grace and poise. Never raised her voice, always composed and careful. Her uncle Rhaegel compared her to a marble statue of the maiden, fond in his own strange way.
She didn’t misbehave. Not on purpose. Attended her lessons and grew skilled in matters of courtly conduct and, if need be, politicking. The right word, a quote, a smile— she’d paid attention cup bearing in small council.
Visits to Summerhall allowed her to let the colder mask down. Maekar’s offspring were wild and wanton compared to the obedient nature of Valarr and Matarys. Aemon might have been the only exception, nose in a book much like their uncle Aerys.
She drifted towards her cousin Daeron during these trips. He was quietly witty, relaxed, and all matters of unrestrained she secretly desired. The sot had slipped into her thoughts back at the keep, imagining his large hands on her thighs. She pondered how it would feel to kiss his smirking lips. She was enamored enough to think the blonde was comely even in a wine-stained silk tunic, periwinkle eyes glossy with drink.
They lingered more as she had kissed him on the last visit. Clumsy, her nose pressing against his. Daeron returned the kiss before pulling away, sending her on. Valarr had been stubborn, asking why not.
"You needn't waste your affections on me, my lovely Val," he murmured, long fingers brushing a stray hair from her soft cheek.
She didn't heed instructions for once. Valarr had pushed him into an alcove and huffed, "I don't wish to hear your whining." Daeron crumpled and cupped her face as he kissed her.
Now here she was, months later, a trip to Summerhall on the horizon.
Marriage and betrothal talks made her head throb, it seemed to be all anyone wanted to speak to her about. She didn't care what the Tyroshi archon's son had with his oiled pink beard and gold tooth. Neither did Valarr enjoy the pompous advances of the Grey Lion's son.
Messy blonde hair and a half smile lingered in her mind.
The princess had expressed her displeasure at the constant suitors during a walk in the upper gardens of the Red Keep. Baelor had stopped her with a firm hand on the shoulder, his kindly smile and matching eyes meeting her surprised expression.
Her father leaned down and plucked a flower, tucking it behind Valarr's ear before cupping her cheek with a calloused hand. She leaned into his soothing touch, her brow softening.
"My sweet, what do you wish for?"
She shifted, eyes flicking back to him. Valarr didn't want to disappoint him. Yet she knew her father would expect honesty. The princess's ringed hands settled into plum brocade as she nodded.
"I wish to make my own decision. A lord, or…a prince."
"A prince?" Baelor asked, head tilting slightly.
"Yes," she squeaked, adding softly, "I can always take tours of the kingdoms too. I'll do what is right, my apologies, Father."
He pulled her into a hug, the hand of the King holding her close, a hand on her neck as he murmured, "I had a feeling as such. Your heart desires, I know the pain. The Gods will have the final say."
They spoke no more of the matter, yet Valarr felt somewhat soothed on her father's lack of a firm no. Some tours were brought up in small council. After the trip to Summerhall. Valarr's chest was tight. The Gods did not smile upon unions of dragonblood. Yet her father's smile and warm expression in the cold room kept her from growing too distressed.
She was antsy in the wheelhouse heading south.
By nightfall, two bodies met in Valarr's chambers offered within the castle. Ser Crakehall had no clue of certain princes who could poorly scale a tree and get in through a window. Valarr nuzzled at Daeron’s jaw, her full lips pressing against the stubbled skin.
He was bare save his dark breeches. Valarr was in her nightgown— soft loose linen that Daeron could slide his greedy hands up. He grabbed at her rounded arse, sliding up to squeeze her plush waist when she shifted just right.
"Father didn't say no," she whispered as her lips slyly curled up. She watched as he huffed weakly, "I have warned you plenty of times by raven, you are foolish. The whole realm will wonder if their perfect princess has gone mad."
Daeron groaned softly, mouth falling open as she rolled her hips across his aching prick. He added, strained at that, "Baelor did not say yes either, nor have I, you know."
Valarr pulled back to stare at him, her jaw twitching. She didn't move. Daeron rolled his eyes, hands sliding up to rub at her back. He grumbled, "Don't give me that look. You know I am right, Valarr."
"Yet you're fine sullying my virtue," she said lowly, her expression placid despite the manner of their bodies. Valarr's jaw twitched again and she went to roll off. Daeron yanked her back, his pale eyes sharp, "Don't you dare, of course I would marry you Valarr."
She narrowed her eyes, skeptical. Daeron's palms still rubbed soothing circles on her back. The prince exhaled as if he was deeply inconvenienced before his perpetually tired eyes met Valarr's.
"You're one of the few things in my unremarkable life that bring me joy."
He blinked and nuzzled into her neck, his lips moving across her skin, "I only fear I would drag you down into my depths of despair."
"Daeron," Valarr spoke, all earlier annoyance gone. She gently stroked his arm, easing him back down onto the bed. She cupped his sharp jaw, a thumb brushing over his cheek. The blonde settled some, an uncomfortable vulnerability in his expression.
"We needn't worry about that now. Forgive me for my impatience?"
Daeron sighed once more. Eventually, his curved lips spread into a small smile. He scoffed playfully, "Ah, yes, there's Baelor's girl— all pleasant and sweet once you get me to bare my throat. You're good at that, you know."
Valarr hummed nonchalantly, lifting her nightgown over her head, exposing her supple, freckled flesh. Daeron groaned again, eyes drifting to her tits and the swell of her hips— how her round thighs were soft and snug around his lean hips.
Gods, she was warm.
Valarr's finger slid under his chin, tilting his head so she could kiss him properly. As their lips and tongues met, the princess eased him within her weeping cunt. They both gasped, Daeron's chest heaving as his dark lashes fluttered.
Daeron's hands returned to her ass as she eased up and down— Valarr's slick, warm core pulling along his cock in the best way. The princess urged him to sit, Daeron closer now. His lean frame against her plush one.
"Val- ah- s’tight," he moaned, slack jawed and panting. He planted his feet, big hands helping her along as she rolled her hips, eyes closing as subtle friction increased. She huffed against Daeron's lips, one of her hands tangling into the back of his sandy hair.
"Would be a shame if I couldn't have this all the time," she teased, nipping Daeron's lower lip.
Daeron's hips jerked as she whined, "You're terrible, horrible, gods— a shame indeed."
He nosed down to her throat, leaving lush little kisses. Daeron was careful, didn't leave marks. He'd been in his cups and said he didn't wish to mar her lovely skin. Valarr sighed at the memory, baring her throat as Daeron inhaled deeply, his fingers sinking into the flesh of her arse.
Valarr arched more, little jerks of her hips that pressed her sensitive bundle against Daeron. Her head fell back further, dark hair sticking to her shoulders and brow. The princess couldn't help but whine softly at the prince's indulgent attention, his lips trailing down to the tender, abundant swells of her breasts.
Daeron moaned as he shifted them some, his lips greedily sealing around a pert nipple. Valarr moved faster with every flick of his tongue. She whimpered in excitement, a little breath of his name in the dark. One of his hands pushed at the small of her back, the other relocating to massage and knead her other breast.
"Ah, Daeron, yes, feels- mm, yes, that's it," she urged, shivering at the touch.
Her bundle was throbbing despite the stimulation. Every little grind of her hips was sloppy and wet. Daeron's full cock nestled deep within, grinding against tender ridged walls. He moved to her other nipple, eyes hazy as he glanced up at Valarr for a moment, pretty lips busy.
She felt her chest swell with warmth meeting Daeron's adoration. She breathed, "You look lovely like that, my prince, lovely."
His wanton whimper increased the pressure in her belly, her slick cunt. Valarr wanted Daeron all the time. Her pretty, messy, utterly real prince. She told him so to earn another needy noise. He suckled harder, jerked his hips, moved her along as his cock swelled and twitched within.
Valarr pulled him away, kissing his reddened lips, her hands on his shoulders, fingers digging in just-so.
She was close. Her low moans had turned into muffled cries of pleasure. Daeron lapped into her mouth, lashes wet with tears as he pushed her closer, closer, closer. Skin to skin, connected in the most natural way.
"Daeron-" she urged.
He gave her a wounded look, a whine, "No, come on- please love?"
She snickered deliriously, pulling off to his chagrin and her own. Valarr yearned for his seed to fill her womb…when the time was right. The brunette turned, ass up as she rested on her elbows. She shuddered at the feeling of the chilly air on her overheated core.
Daeron clumsily shifted, his long legs caging hers in close. He was panting, hands shaking as he eased into the vee between her thighs and soaked cunt. Valarr inhaled sharply at the sensation of her lover's rigid prick sliding through her mess, the tip nudging against her clit again.
Daeron pressed the length of his body against her damp back. Valarr shivered, bit her lip as greedy hands grabbed her belly and tits as he pumped his hips, chasing his pleasure. He mouthed at her shoulder, panting.
"S'that it princess? Good? Yeah? Is that it, my sweet?" He begged.
She nodded, voice thin, "Close."
They moved back and forth, push and pull. Soft smacks and gasped endearments. Valarr came apart when Daeron went rigid and painted her cunt and thighs with his seed. He gasped and whimpered through it, pressing his forehead to her freckled shoulder.
Darron's fingers dipped between her thighs, swirling that plush bundle of nerves. He babbled in a raspy voice, "That's it, come on Val, fuck- you're beautiful. I want you to be mine, mine to have, to hold, to take."
To love was felt, not spoken.
Valarr's soft thighs tightened up along with her belly as she gushed, vision fuzzy as the climax of pleasure wracked her body. Daeron worked her through it with nuzzles and kisses, his other hand stroking her flank.
Valarr flopped forward in a very un-princess manner. She rolled onto her side, stimulated body trying to regulate. A dazed little smirk remained on her face. Daeron smiled and flopped next to her, brushing her damp hair back. His periwinkle eyes roved her face— flushed cheeks, pretty lips, those beguiling eyes.
Daeron pulled her closer, rubbing her waist and hip, fingertips circling on her soft arm. Valarr enjoyed the moments of affection untainted by the drink or fear-induced desperation. She pressed a kiss to the corner of his reddened mouth pulling back with a rare toothy smile.
That smile was reserved for few.
Daeron gave an exasperated sigh despite his amused expression, giving her arm an affectionate squeeze. He pressed his forehead to hers, pausing as he breathed. Valarr reached for his cheek again, thumbing the thin skin under his eye, always darkened from his habits.
He murmured, "You know I won't be, ah, perfect? Not like you, not good for the keep. You know that Valarr."
He looked vulnerable again, periwinkle eyes filled with fear.
She stroked his cheek, eyes soft. Valarr knew of the dreams. He wrote to her about them. She remembered him screaming as a boy at night, echoing through the halls of desolate Summerhall— Lady Dyanna rushing to her boy.
"We wouldn't have to go to King's Landing, if you wish. I find it less…stifling here at Summerhall."
He tried to speak again only for her to press a thumb to his lips.
"You're more of what the Gods have cursed you with. I would be there, I would," she said.
Daeron looked hopeful for likely one of the first times in his wretched life. He tucked his head into her neck, wetness developing against her neck. The blonde's voice was muffled, "Then I cannot argue with that, my princess. Gods know you're stubborn and care too damn much."
She knew, but she stroked his hair anyways, heart warm.
Summary: Cregan Stark returns home to a strange request from his lady wife.
Author's note: This was requested by a sweet anon, and I kind of put my own spin on it. I hope that you enjoy! Cregan better be in season 3. I only need a glimpse please Ryan Condal I beg of you. Content tags are smut, p in v, unprotected sex, praise, established relationship, mentions of infidelity, cockwarming, cannon divergence, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader, mentions of wlw sex, mentions of threesomes, pet names
Three fucking moons. That’s how long Cregan Stark had spent at Castle Black, for a routine visit that was only supposed to take four weeks, travel time included. An unexpected snow storm had come and prevented him and his men from leaving on time. He had practically worn holes in the floor of his Castle Black quarters, the wall, the training yard, as he paced, anxious to get back to you. After a break in the storm, he and his men ride hard home to Winterfell. No rests, only home is on his mind. It's almost midnight when he sees the tourets of Winterfell castle on the horizon, and Cregan could almost cry with relief.
Inside the castle's walls, he dismounts and grunts at the stable boy taking his horse. No one else is there to receive him and his men at the castle entrance. But why would they? He had not told the anyone when to expect him back. He had merely shown up as quickly as he could. “Where is my wife?” He barks, to no one in particular. Before the stable boy can reply and apologize that he has no idea of the whereabouts of Lady Stark, Cregan is already making his way inside the castle doors.
You sit by the fire reading, but your attention is pulled from your book by the abrupt bang of the bedroom door opening.
“Oh my gods!” You scramble out of the armchair, letting the book thud to the ground, and run over to your husband - hulking mass of fur standing in the doorway.
“You’re here” kiss “you’re here” kiss “I didn’t get a raven-“ kiss “telling your arrival!"
“I’ll tell you the whole story later, pup” his fingers frantically fumbling with the ties of your dressing gown “Want to tell you all of it, but I need ya first”
He mouths at your jaw, chest heaving and panting as he backs you towards the bed, never coming up for air. Your legs hit the mattress and you sit “Wait, let me take my nightgown off” you giggle at his forwardness. This is unlike your husband, usually so self discipled. But these are not normal circumstances.
“No time” he mumbles and is climbing on top of you, hauling you onto the middle of the mattress like you weigh nothing at all. He hikes up your dress above your hips and knees your thighs apart. Pressing his whole body weight into you, he kisses and mouths at your cheek. “Too long. Was gone too long”
“You were, my love” you agree. He shucks his pants down just enough to free his cock, aching and leaking precome down the side. He thrusts all the way in, not even bothering to test your entrance at all. You both gasp at the intrusion. “-’m so sorry pup.” He babbles into your neck, you don’t know if he apologizing for his prolonged absence or lack of foreplay “Missed you so bad. Gods, so sorry.” Your body remembers him all the same, his familiar body weight and scent pressing down on you like a warm blanket. His cock reaches deep into your belly, and each thrust reminds you how well you fit with your husband. His voice has lowered to a deep gravelly pitch as he curses. Arousal coats his cock, and the sounds of your combined wetness fill the small space you two share.
“Husband, I think-“ you sigh. You feel totally spaced out and at complete surrender- senses totally comforted by the return of your protector. He looses all his thoughts, understandable for a man not had release in three months, and pays no mind to the fact that he is crushing you with his body weight. He only presses you deeper and deeper into the mattress with every thrust.
“I know, I know. Me too, pup” he comes quickly, and desperately chasing the warm feel of your cunt. You feel his whole body shudder as he releases for ages, filling you with bursts of spend. He is out of breath as he reaches in between your bodies still connected, and works your clit with his fingers. He messily circles your most sensitive nerves, while snaking his large forearm under your head you bring you closer to him. His fingers and your thighs are getting messier by the second as spend leaks out. Neither of you speaks, as you both feel too blissed out to form words as he brings you over the edge of orgasm. He rocks his cock, still semi hard inside you, through your peak as your cunt clenches around him. Mouths slot together, swapping saliva and incoherent promises.
When his breath returns to him, he finally speaks “We had a break in the storm. Didn’t have time to send a raven. I jus' rode here as fast as I could.”
“Thank the gods you’re home safe.” You press your forehead into his. “Don’t get up. Stay.”
“I’m not going anywhere” he promises. But he eventually needs to get up from the bed and remove himself from you after a deep growl bellows from his stomach.
"Send for the servants to bring something from the kitchen?" He suggests as he removes his heavy cloak.
"Nonsense. It's late. I'll go down and get something for you myself." You press a lingering kiss to his lips, and then tighten your dressing grown around you. "I'll be right back." You assure him as you are putting on your fur lined slippers.
You return with a plate of meats, cheeses, honey cakes, and a mug of ale. You set it down in his lap as he sits on the bed, the look of relief visible in his face as he strokes the furs covering the bed - the relief of being home. "But this one's for me" you say as you pluck a honey cake off the plate and take a bite. He watches you flit around the room, lighting candles, fixing up the mess you had made of books and papers on the desk while he eats and drinks. He notices the way you carry yourself in Winterfell has changed. You go down to the kitchen without hesitation. You maneuver the room as if it were now your own space, which it was, but before you had been shyer and scared to make your mark on the place. This place is your home now. You operate more as the lady of Winterfell. And he can tell that you have more confidence around him, no fear of his brutish, towering northern stature. "Finished?" you ask, as you take the plate away and climb onto the bed and crawl between his outstretched legs. "Your hair!" you exclaim taking some strands into your fingers "It's grown since I last saw you!"
"Has it?" he asks, half listening as he stares at your face, it seems impossible but over those three months you got prettier "No mirrors at Castle Black, pup." His cock is definitely getting hard again. He pulls you closer, savoring the soft fabric of your nightgown as it brushes against him. "You can help me cut it on the morrow" He rubs his hand gently back and forth over the curve of your arse. How he missed doing that.
You take his other hand and press a small, light kiss onto the knuckles. "You said in your ravens that you missed me."
"Every day I did." He watches you in adoration as you wrap your lips around his thumb. Your tongue rolls around his thumb, wetting it with your saliva, teeth nibbling at the skin ever so gently.
"I'm so proud of you how you handled everything here. Maester Lupin wrote that you advised on matters of coin and he valued you opinion. And Maester Lupin doesn't have anything nice to say about any one."
You remove his digit from your mouth to speak. "Thank you. Let me be closer to you."
He wastes no time unting his pants once again to free his aching cock. He helps you up to your knees and guides you down on top of him. He groans as you sink down his length. "Better." He sighs, letting his head fall forward on your shoulder. The strerch is easier this time, you feel anchored and full, a subtle pulse settling at the base of your stomach. "Yes, better." You agree, and take hold of his hand again. You run your teeth down the meat of his palm, canines gently digging in occasionally.
"And you wrote that you made a friend when the Lord and Lady Dustin visited." He says, tucking some hair behind your ear.
"Yes" you pause, choosing your next words, "I wanted to talk to you about that. You know Dyanna Dustin, their daughter? Who visited last week?"
"Aye, I know of her."
"Well we hit it off. She's so much fun to talk to! And she helped me with my embriodery too." You suck in a breath. "And we kind of.. lay together.. too." Before Cregan can say anything you begin again. "It is only friendship, nothing more than that. And I will end it immediately if you wish it. You are my priority and I love you alone." You speak the words without taking a breath, and only let out an exhale when you finish.
His expression is unreadable, and this scares you. Neither one of you speaks for a while. He just stares at the fire, thinking and processing. After a long time, he asks "There is no other man?"
You wrinkle your nose at the thought. "Gods no!"
"And this is something you want?" He looks at you with slight concern.
"I like having a friend. Someone to write to. You are so busy and I want someone to converse with when you are unavailable. And I like doing... things with her." Your face heats with embarrassment at the admission- shy nature flaring up again at this conversation.
He pauses to think again. A stern look crosses his face when he is deep in thought. You take his hand once more, running his thumb over your lips to spread saliva over them, then press it into your mouth. He watches you intently, deciding what his next words should be. But inside pride flares within his chest. You are coming into your own, making this place your home, having mature, honest conversations, and giving affection freely to him.
"You are the Lady Stark of Winterfell. You may take what you want. I see no reason to deprive you of this." He tells you.
"My love" kiss "Thank you" kiss "Thank you" kiss "A million thank you's" you say, grinding down into his lap to be even closer if it's possible.
He huffs a groan at your movement, finally proiving some friction to his aching cock. You hand him his ale from the bed side table "Thirsty?" and watch him drink.
"Oh I almost forgot. Dyanna said you could join next time!"
Cregan chokes on his ale at this. So hard it almost comes out his nose. What was he going to do with you, becoming more of a handful every day?
Summary: Cregan Stark returns home to a strange request from his lady wife.
Author's note: This was requested by a sweet anon, and I kind of put my own spin on it. I hope that you enjoy! Cregan better be in season 3. I only need a glimpse please Ryan Condal I beg of you. Content tags are smut, p in v, unprotected sex, praise, established relationship, mentions of infidelity, cockwarming, cannon divergence, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader, mentions of wlw sex, mentions of threesomes, pet names
Three fucking moons. That’s how long Cregan Stark had spent at Castle Black, for a routine visit that was only supposed to take four weeks, travel time included. An unexpected snow storm had come and prevented him and his men from leaving on time. He had practically worn holes in the floor of his Castle Black quarters, the wall, the training yard, as he paced, anxious to get back to you. After a break in the storm, he and his men ride hard home to Winterfell. No rests, only home is on his mind. It's almost midnight when he sees the tourets of Winterfell castle on the horizon, and Cregan could almost cry with relief.
Inside the castle's walls, he dismounts and grunts at the stable boy taking his horse. No one else is there to receive him and his men at the castle entrance. But why would they? He had not told the anyone when to expect him back. He had merely shown up as quickly as he could. “Where is my wife?” He barks, to no one in particular. Before the stable boy can reply and apologize that he has no idea of the whereabouts of Lady Stark, Cregan is already making his way inside the castle doors.
You sit by the fire reading, but your attention is pulled from your book by the abrupt bang of the bedroom door opening.
“Oh my gods!” You scramble out of the armchair, letting the book thud to the ground, and run over to your husband - hulking mass of fur standing in the doorway.
“You’re here” kiss “you’re here” kiss “I didn’t get a raven-“ kiss “telling your arrival!"
“I’ll tell you the whole story later, pup” his fingers frantically fumbling with the ties of your dressing gown “Want to tell you all of it, but I need ya first”
He mouths at your jaw, chest heaving and panting as he backs you towards the bed, never coming up for air. Your legs hit the mattress and you sit “Wait, let me take my nightgown off” you giggle at his forwardness. This is unlike your husband, usually so self discipled. But these are not normal circumstances.
“No time” he mumbles and is climbing on top of you, hauling you onto the middle of the mattress like you weigh nothing at all. He hikes up your dress above your hips and knees your thighs apart. Pressing his whole body weight into you, he kisses and mouths at your cheek. “Too long. Was gone too long”
“You were, my love” you agree. He shucks his pants down just enough to free his cock, aching and leaking precome down the side. He thrusts all the way in, not even bothering to test your entrance at all. You both gasp at the intrusion. “-’m so sorry pup.” He babbles into your neck, you don’t know if he apologizing for his prolonged absence or lack of foreplay “Missed you so bad. Gods, so sorry.” Your body remembers him all the same, his familiar body weight and scent pressing down on you like a warm blanket. His cock reaches deep into your belly, and each thrust reminds you how well you fit with your husband. His voice has lowered to a deep gravelly pitch as he curses. Arousal coats his cock, and the sounds of your combined wetness fill the small space you two share.
“Husband, I think-“ you sigh. You feel totally spaced out and at complete surrender- senses totally comforted by the return of your protector. He looses all his thoughts, understandable for a man not had release in three months, and pays no mind to the fact that he is crushing you with his body weight. He only presses you deeper and deeper into the mattress with every thrust.
“I know, I know. Me too, pup” he comes quickly, and desperately chasing the warm feel of your cunt. You feel his whole body shudder as he releases for ages, filling you with bursts of spend. He is out of breath as he reaches in between your bodies still connected, and works your clit with his fingers. He messily circles your most sensitive nerves, while snaking his large forearm under your head you bring you closer to him. His fingers and your thighs are getting messier by the second as spend leaks out. Neither of you speaks, as you both feel too blissed out to form words as he brings you over the edge of orgasm. He rocks his cock, still semi hard inside you, through your peak as your cunt clenches around him. Mouths slot together, swapping saliva and incoherent promises.
When his breath returns to him, he finally speaks “We had a break in the storm. Didn’t have time to send a raven. I jus' rode here as fast as I could.”
“Thank the gods you’re home safe.” You press your forehead into his. “Don’t get up. Stay.”
“I’m not going anywhere” he promises. But he eventually needs to get up from the bed and remove himself from you after a deep growl bellows from his stomach.
"Send for the servants to bring something from the kitchen?" He suggests as he removes his heavy cloak.
"Nonsense. It's late. I'll go down and get something for you myself." You press a lingering kiss to his lips, and then tighten your dressing grown around you. "I'll be right back." You assure him as you are putting on your fur lined slippers.
You return with a plate of meats, cheeses, honey cakes, and a mug of ale. You set it down in his lap as he sits on the bed, the look of relief visible in his face as he strokes the furs covering the bed - the relief of being home. "But this one's for me" you say as you pluck a honey cake off the plate and take a bite. He watches you flit around the room, lighting candles, fixing up the mess you had made of books and papers on the desk while he eats and drinks. He notices the way you carry yourself in Winterfell has changed. You go down to the kitchen without hesitation. You maneuver the room as if it were now your own space, which it was, but before you had been shyer and scared to make your mark on the place. This place is your home now. You operate more as the lady of Winterfell. And he can tell that you have more confidence around him, no fear of his brutish, towering northern stature. "Finished?" you ask, as you take the plate away and climb onto the bed and crawl between his outstretched legs. "Your hair!" you exclaim taking some strands into your fingers "It's grown since I last saw you!"
"Has it?" he asks, half listening as he stares at your face, it seems impossible but over those three months you got prettier "No mirrors at Castle Black, pup." His cock is definitely getting hard again. He pulls you closer, savoring the soft fabric of your nightgown as it brushes against him. "You can help me cut it on the morrow" He rubs his hand gently back and forth over the curve of your arse. How he missed doing that.
You take his other hand and press a small, light kiss onto the knuckles. "You said in your ravens that you missed me."
"Every day I did." He watches you in adoration as you wrap your lips around his thumb. Your tongue rolls around his thumb, wetting it with your saliva, teeth nibbling at the skin ever so gently.
"I'm so proud of you how you handled everything here. Maester Lupin wrote that you advised on matters of coin and he valued you opinion. And Maester Lupin doesn't have anything nice to say about any one."
You remove his digit from your mouth to speak. "Thank you. Let me be closer to you."
He wastes no time unting his pants once again to free his aching cock. He helps you up to your knees and guides you down on top of him. He groans as you sink down his length. "Better." He sighs, letting his head fall forward on your shoulder. The strerch is easier this time, you feel anchored and full, a subtle pulse settling at the base of your stomach. "Yes, better." You agree, and take hold of his hand again. You run your teeth down the meat of his palm, canines gently digging in occasionally.
"And you wrote that you made a friend when the Lord and Lady Dustin visited." He says, tucking some hair behind your ear.
"Yes" you pause, choosing your next words, "I wanted to talk to you about that. You know Dyanna Dustin, their daughter? Who visited last week?"
"Aye, I know of her."
"Well we hit it off. She's so much fun to talk to! And she helped me with my embriodery too." You suck in a breath. "And we kind of.. lay together.. too." Before Cregan can say anything you begin again. "It is only friendship, nothing more than that. And I will end it immediately if you wish it. You are my priority and I love you alone." You speak the words without taking a breath, and only let out an exhale when you finish.
His expression is unreadable, and this scares you. Neither one of you speaks for a while. He just stares at the fire, thinking and processing. After a long time, he asks "There is no other man?"
You wrinkle your nose at the thought. "Gods no!"
"And this is something you want?" He looks at you with slight concern.
"I like having a friend. Someone to write to. You are so busy and I want someone to converse with when you are unavailable. And I like doing... things with her." Your face heats with embarrassment at the admission- shy nature flaring up again at this conversation.
He pauses to think again. A stern look crosses his face when he is deep in thought. You take his hand once more, running his thumb over your lips to spread saliva over them, then press it into your mouth. He watches you intently, deciding what his next words should be. But inside pride flares within his chest. You are coming into your own, making this place your home, having mature, honest conversations, and giving affection freely to him.
"You are the Lady Stark of Winterfell. You may take what you want. I see no reason to deprive you of this." He tells you.
"My love" kiss "Thank you" kiss "Thank you" kiss "A million thank you's" you say, grinding down into his lap to be even closer if it's possible.
He huffs a groan at your movement, finally proiving some friction to his aching cock. You hand him his ale from the bed side table "Thirsty?" and watch him drink.
"Oh I almost forgot. Dyanna said you could join next time!"
Cregan chokes on his ale at this. So hard it almost comes out his nose. What was he going to do with you, becoming more of a handful every day?
just can't get enough of these men ugh. also sorry for the format, i didn't know how to make it seem a proper chat conversation (any tips will be most welcome)
Includes: modern!Baelor x f!reader // modern!Maekar x f!reader
Warning(s): modernAU, +18 MDNI, sexting,
It started, as things with Baelor often did, with something entirely innocent.
He had texted you a photo of a page from a book — a passage he had found and thought you would find interesting, which he did occasionally now, with the easy frequency of someone who had stopped managing the impulse to share things with you — and you had responded and a conversation had started and it had been a perfectly normal Tuesday evening exchange about the historiography of late Byzantine administrative structures until—
Until you had not been able to help yourself.
I keep thinking about last week, you sent. Specifically the kitchen counter.
A pause.
Longer than his usual response time.
I think about it also, he sent back. Frequently.
You smiled at your phone.
How frequently, you sent.
Another pause.
More than is probably productive, he sent. I was in a meeting this afternoon and spent approximately ten minutes thinking about the sound you made when I— and then it stopped and you could see the three dots and then they disappeared and then appeared again and then: that was not a sentence I intended to finish in a text message.
Finish it, you sent.
That seems inadvisable, he sent.
Baelor, you sent.
A pause.
The sound you made, he sent, when I put my mouth on your throat. I have been thinking about that specifically.
You stared at your phone.
Just that? you sent.
No, he sent back, and the single word had a quality to it even in text. Not just that.
Tell me, you sent.
The three dots appeared and stayed for longer than usual this time, which meant he was writing something and reconsidering and rewriting, which was so Baelor that you smiled at the ceiling of your flat while you waited.
I think about the way you felt, he sent finally. Specifically the way you felt when I was inside you. The sounds you made. The way you said my name. A pause and then another message immediately after: I think about what you look like when you come. I have replayed that in considerable detail.
Your mouth had gone slightly dry.
Considerable detail, you sent.
I have a good memory, he sent. It is currently working against me.
How so, you sent.
I am sitting in my study, he sent, trying to read, and instead I am thinking about putting you on this desk.
You put your phone down and screeched.
Picked it up again.
Tell me what you'd do, you sent.
The three dots.
I would start, he sent, with your throat. Specifically the place where your neck meets your shoulder. I have been thinking about that place with a frequency that I find somewhat consuming. Another message: Then lower. I would take my time. I was not thorough enough last week and I intend to correct that.
Not thorough enough, you sent. Baelor you made me come twice.
I'm aware, he sent. I have specific intentions regarding three.
You made a sound in the privacy of your flat that you were glad no one could hear.
You can't just say that, you sent.
I just did, he sent, with a composure that translated remarkably well into text. You feel extraordinary, he sent, and the shift in tense — present, immediate — made something clench low in your stomach. I think about how you feel around me and I lose significant portions of whatever I was doing. This afternoon it was a budget meeting. I cannot tell you what was decided.
What were you thinking specifically, you sent.
Specifically, he sent, how tight you are. How wet you were. The sounds you make when I go deep. A pause. I think about your hands in my hair. I think about the marks you left on my throat. I think about the way you said my name when you came the second time. Another pause, shorter. I think about it and I am hard and I am sitting in my study trying to read Procopius and it is not going well.
Touch yourself, you sent.
A longer pause than any of the others.
That is, he sent, not something I have done while texting someone before.
First time for everything, you sent.
You are a terrible influence, he sent. And then, after a brief pause: I am touching myself. I want you to know that I find this situation faintly absurd and also that I cannot currently bring myself to stop.
You laughed and then immediately stopped laughing because the image of Baelor in his study with Procopius open on his desk and his hand in his lap because of your text messages was doing things to you that you needed to address.
Tell me what you're thinking, you sent.
You, he sent. Specifically you on this desk. Specifically the sounds you would make. A longer pause — you figured how difficult it'd be for him to reply while he was pumping his cock in his hand. Specifically what your face looks like when you come. Another long pause: I think about that most. Your face. The way you look at me. A longer pause and then: I think about the way you said my name. I think about it constantly. You have no idea what your voice does to me.
Baelor, you sent.
There, he sent immediately. Exactly that. God.
Are you close, you sent.
Yes, he sent. Tell me something.
I think about your hands, you sent. I think about how large they are. I think about the tattoo on your ribs. I think about the sounds you make and the fact that nobody else has ever heard them.
A pause.
Nobody else, he sent back, rough even in text, something stripped in it.
Nobody, you sent. They're mine.
The pause that followed was brief.
Yes, he sent. And then nothing for two minutes and then: that was somewhat more intense than I anticipated for a Tuesday evening.
You laughed properly this time while looking at your phone like an idiot.
Good? you sent.
Come over, he sent. Please.
Baelor it's eleven pm, you sent.
I'm aware, he sent. Come over anyway. A pause. I have specific intentions and a desk and considerably more patience than I demonstrated last week.
You were already looking for your keys.
I'll be there in twenty, you sent.
I'll make tea, he sent, and you could feel the composure returning in real time and found you did not mind because the composure was never really the point, the point was what was underneath it, and you had standing access to that now.
Baelor, you sent, at the door.
Yes, he sent.
The desk, you sent. Don't change your mind about the desk.
A pause.
I have a very good memory, he sent. I don't change my mind about things I've thought about in considerable detail.
You jumped in the place you stood a few times and locked your door behind you.
It started with a photo.
Not an explicit one. Just — you, at a friend's birthday, in a dress that you had purchased with complete innocence and had worn with complete innocence and had sent to Maekar because he had asked what you were doing that evening and you had said out, here's proof and attached the photo without thinking about it.
His response took four minutes.
When are you home
You stared at the message with the incipient smile of someone who had got exactly what they were looking for.
Why???, you decided to play oblivious.
When are you home, he sent again.
That's not an answer to my question, you sent.
Couple of hours tops, he sent. And keep that dress.
You looked at your phone with a full smile now.
What about the dress???, you sent.
Don't, he sent.
Don't what, you sent.
You know what, he sent.
You did know what. You smiled at your phone in the middle of your friend's birthday party and sent back: I genuinely don't know what you mean.
A pause that felt pointed even through a screen.
The dress, he sent, is a problem.
How so, you sent.
I've been looking at that photo, he sent, for four minutes.
And? you sent.
And I'm going to be thinking about taking it off you, he sent, for the next couple of hours.
You excused yourself from the conversation you had been having and went to find somewhere slightly more private. Daeron looked at you somewhat confused, but when he noticed the way you were biting your lip, he just rolled his eyes and laughed.
Just thinking about it? you sent.
For now, he sent.
Tell me more, you sent.
A pause.
You first, he sent.
You looked at that for a moment.
I think about your hands, you sent. Specifically how they feel on my hips.
The response came fast: yeah
I think about your mouth, you sent.
Where, he sent.
Everywhere, you sent. Specifically my throat.
I left a mark last time, he sent.
I know, you sent. I liked it.
A pause that felt like him recalibrating.
How much, he sent.
Enough that I wore my hair up the next day so people could see it, you sent.
The pause was longer this time.
Christ, he sent.
Your turn, you sent.
The dress, he sent. Specifically what's under it.
What do you think is under it, you sent.
Not my mouth, he sent, and the three words landed with the flat certainty of everything he said and did things to you that three words had no business doing.
Maekar, you sent.
Come home, he sent.
I'm at a party, you sent.
I know, he sent. Come home anyway.
That's very demanding, you sent.
Yes, he sent.
You laughed.
Tell me what you're going to do when I get there, you sent.
A pause.
The dress comes off first, he sent. Slowly. I'm going to take my time. And then immediately: Last time I didn't take enough time. Another message: I've been thinking about that.
What specifically, you sent.
Tasting you, he sent, four words, blunt and direct and landing like a physical thing. Properly. Without the wall and the edging. A pause. Just you on my bed and my mouth on your pussy and nowhere to be.
You were gripping your phone considerably harder than the situation strictly required.
That's very specific, you sent.
I think specifically, he sent.
What else, you sent.
You on top, he sent. Like last time. I keep thinking about that. A pause that felt like him deciding something. The way you looked. The sounds you made. I think about that when I'm trying to sleep.
Does it work? you sent. For sleeping?
No, he sent. The opposite.
Are you hard, you sent.
Yes, he sent, as if it were an obvious question. Have been since the photo.
Touch yourself, you sent.
A pause.
I'm not doing that over text, he sent.
Why not, you sent.
Because, he sent, when I come I want to feel your pussy around me. I'm not settling for my own hand when I can have you.
You stopped, put your phone down for a second, looked at the sky above you, took a deep breath and tried not to scream in public.
Maekar, you sent.
Come home, he sent. I'll be here.
I have to say goodbye to a few people, you sent.
Fine, he sent. And then: wear the dress.
You being you, decided to rile Maekar a bit more just because he hadn't comply with your request of touching himself. Also because it was terribly fun to imagine him fuming at home, hard and not able to reprimand you for now.
You attached another photograph, one that a friend had taken that same day of Daeron and you laughing together earlier that afternoon, his arm around your waist in a friendly manner.
Maekar didn't answer for a whole minute. Then:
Tell Daeron to move his hand, he sent.
You laughed. Why??? He's your son.
I know who the fuck he is, he sent. Tell him to move his hand.
We were just— you did not get time to finish the message.
You're mine. He knows that. Get your coat and come here.
You would have screamed if you remembered how to breathe, which you did not.
Already getting my coat, you sent.
Good, he sent. I am having some words with Daeron tomorrow.
A pause.
And then one more message, sent with the flat directness of a man who said what he meant and meant what he said:
I'm going to make you forget your own name.
You said goodbye to approximately four people simultaneously, Daeron included, and left.
Yeah, so maybe there's a bit of personal projection here. Can you blame me tho?
Tags: Modern/College AU, Makeout session😚, Dunk being cautious and cute, hand stuff (M and F), oral M receiving, Dunk a butt guy, unprotected PnV, size difference, reader is more experienced than Dunk, established friendship ,Dunk generally being flustered at all times, friends to lovers, there’s a decent amount of fluffy bits to this because Duncan’s in love fr!
Word Count: 5.5 k
Summary: After admitting to Dunk that you had feelings for him a few weeks ago, he visits you at college and you are determined to hurl your relationship out of the friend zone entirely!
A/N: Could be read as a standalone but is part 2 for Crossroads. @niceforcum22 it’s not Truck Sex but I had to ensure they banged at some point! (Mature under the cut)
You felt all floaty, and your eyes were a bit heavy by this time of night, but every time he touched you it was like a warm exciting zing to your system. Dunk was strong, and you were finding out he was also strict. He was constantly reaching for you on this walk. Not that you minded. For one you didn’t want somebody else grabbing at you and two, his touch was heavy enough it cut through the beer haze that had settled over you.
“no…c’mon your this way.”
You giggled when he had to only strech his arm out to tug you back to him so you wouldn’t turn down another sidewalk.
He didn't even need to take a step off his path to reach you that’s how long his arms were.
Fucking hell it made your face feel warm!
You smirked all the way up at him grabbing his hand by the thumb and bring it around you so you were wrapped up in his elbow, both your arms around his midsection.
“so smart…you should be a geographer. There’s a program for that here, by the way.”
He rolled his eyes so deeply that you pressed your face against his ribs knowing he wasn’t going to indulge any more of your peer pressuring. He’d come to visit you, and to take you back home because finals had just finished for the semester.
You were dead set on convincing him that he should sign up for next semester. You wanted him here. So you packed most of your stuff up before he actually arrived so you could show him around campus…let him experience the dinning hall. You were right to assume that he’d enjoy the all you can eat aspect of it. He probably had three plates and two different bowls of cereal!
Then it was a walk around campus, he wanted to see some of the places you had described to him over the phone. It was sweet how much he remembered about the pointless conversations you guys had.
A pregame at your friends off campus apartment, with some game, and then ending the night at a pub. At some point between pre drinks your buzz has hit you, and thank god for it because it made you bold enough to break the touch barrier with him. You’d made it in his truck…for awhile that day when he found you trying to get some to surprise him. The day you born admitted there was something a lot deeper than just friendship happening between you two. But you went back to school two days later and so nothing more had actually kicked off.
Your friends knew how disappointed you were that nothing else had happened and so there was lots of giggling and joking at the pub when Dunk would go get you another drink, when he’d touch your back to alert you to somebody trying to squeeze by, and the snickering even came out of you when a table finally opened up and you were one seat short for the group.
You’d pushed Dunks hand off his lap and sat yourself right in it. Neither of you move again for the rest of the night. Your fluttering lashes kept him firmly seated when even the guys in the group called him over for another beer, and you were way to busy making little comments to him and tracing the lines on his palm to join your girlfriends in the bathroom.
He was staying with you tonight, obviously, and driving you back home to flea bottom in his truck whenever you guys woke up. He refused to imagine you attempting that long of a drive again in your beater of a car. “Would he fuckin wreckless of me not to just drive ya back” you’d blushed so badly when he told you that a few days ago and was bloody greatful it was a phone call and not FaceTime!
“my roommates staying at her boyfriend.” You told him slipping away from his side to get your key in the door.
“she okay there?” He asked, he was to sweet for his own good.
You nodded with a laugh as you got your heels off and the denim jacket you’d worn out. You wanted to be comfortable as soon as possible.
“she’s exactly where she wants to be.” You promise “and it’s sort of a favor to me.” You explained bending down to plug your phone into the charger.
“favor? In what way?” Dunk had grabbed your water bottle off the desk and as holding it down for you to take. He knew you’d probably gotten way more sloshed than this over the course of the semester but this as his first time actually seeing you have more than one drink so he was being a bit overprotective, at the bar and now apparently also with the possible future hangover you might get.
“wanted us to-“ you sigh when you turn and see the water being shoved to you. Being down on your knees infront of him, what you want to swallow down is not exactly water… but you do, because you know he’ll grumble, about how you really should, if you don’t.
“-Have some privacy.” You stood up wobbling a bit and leaning back against the lofted beds support. Taking another long drink of water and handing it back to him while he seems to fish around for a reply.
“you do want to have sex don’t you?”
“yes! Gods, yes. Absolutely I do-“ Dunk exclaimed quickly when his lack of response had made you second guess it you’d read this whole thing wrong.
“great!” You grabbed the water bottle from his hand and tossed it at your bean bag chair pushing yourself against him instantly and grabbing his shoulders. You couldn’t reach his lips, tippy toes or not so he was going to have to help you out a bit and bend down. Or pick you up-you’d be happy with that option too!
He reached a hand up to touch your side, to stabilize you a bit but he didn’t actually bent down to meet your lips, which were currently kissing at the bit of skin that the collar of his shirt didn’t cover.
“You’re lovely,” he was clearly fighting the words as they came out. “But your drunk…”
You pull your arms down a bit taken back by the comment. “So are you!” You gawk slightly looking up at him.
“I don’t want ‘ya waking up and regretting this.” He approached his hesitation from a different angle this time but when you started to strip your skirt off a foot from him his resolve threatened to break.
He had been feeling you arse thought your skirt all night…rubbing slightly at it when you would shift in his lap.
“fuck me-“ he groaned and ran a hand down his face with a low groan.
“yeah, that’s exactly what I’m thing ta do!” You laughed and stood there looking up so sweetly at him when his hand finally stopped shielding his eyes.
Your top was cropped so it wasn’t hiding any of your pratically bare midsection and legs from him. Your skin was so smooth…shinny still from the lotion he’d watch you apply earlier before the pub.
When you realized that he seemed pretty focused on the lace flowers that were patterned onto the front of your thong you reached down, bitting your lip and trailing your hand over the fabric.
“pretty aren’t they?” You spoke softly, clearly trying to be a bit more seductive than your normal voice might allow.
“feel them-“
“Shouldn’t be out wearing that sort of thing doll.” He warned, like scolding you might distract him from the actual desires he was having. He wanted to feel them for himself but he also wanted to pull them off and stuff them on his pocket for later. He had a sick idea that what was between your thighs was softer than your underwear. That was what he wanted to feel, you.
“That’s why I wore them out with you Dunk.” You rolled your eyes a bit. “Don’t think anybody could even attempt to look up my skirt with your big hand grabbing at my backside.”
“big hand-they aren’t-they aren’t that big are they?”
When he held his palms up between you two you almost moaned out loud. He had no blood clue how big they were, or that you’d gotten wet just from feeling how much expansive they were on your figure and he never he touched you.
“they are.” You blinked eyes glued to them and you legitimately licked your lip when seeing one of the veins bulge a bit.
“Sit down.” You push on his chest and he willingly sits down in your bean bag chair. It’s not much more than cushion for a man of his size but it’s better than just being on the floor.
“listen to me Duncan. I’m not that drunk-not by a fucking mile-“ he opened his mouth like he was about to argue with you and you covered his mouth with your hand and sat down in his lap. “-and I don’t think I’m capable of regretting anything that I might do with you.”
“Doll-you…you could regret it! Might not be what you like, or not as good as you expected.”
You’d grabbed his hand now and rubbed at it before leading his palm back to your arse and pushing on his fingers until he grope at the curve of you.
“I’ll regret not doing this and going home being able to pretend like all we are is friends.” You knew if this didn’t happen that both of you would just fall into normal routine back in flea bottom, that this moment of mutual attention and shared boldness would pass right over you two.
“Now don’t tell me what I want and don’t want, I’m serious Duncan.” You warn him as you grab the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up over your head.
“okay.” He blubbered out, eyes following your tits at the shirt comes off and your tits jiggle because they are only being controlled by some bra cakes.
“If you don’t want to sleep with me then that’s fine…but if all you’re worried about is my sensibilities in the morning then we don’t have anything stopping us!”
Apparently that speech, or the removal of your shirt, was reassuring enough for him because the second you stopped speaking he grabbed your jaw and pulled you to his mouth.
The exasperated attitude you had less than 20 seconds ago was completly melted away as you turned to straddle him and strech your neck to keep reaching as your lips for lost in the constant contact with his.
“For fucks sake…” Duncan had to break the kiss, lips flushed and his nose a bit red. Both of you panting for air unable to wipe the dopey smiles off either of your faces.
“don’t huff about something you like.” You kissed his jaw, warm tongue gently poking out to make the kisses your trailed down his neck warm and wet.
Your eyes glanced up at him when his big fingers gathered your hair and tossed it back behind your shoulder.
“you love kissing me…don’t you?” You drawled out softly, just before sucking a mark onto the underside of his jaw.
“Does taunting me get you off or something?” He quipped and sunk down against the bean bag a bit.
“You could find you-“ you whispered in his ear shaking your hips from side to side a bit as he lounged into a relaxed sitting position. Cutting yourself off when your voice trembled because Duncan had laid his warm hand down on your side, fingers catching the waistband of your thong a bit. You were dripping thinking about him pulling them down and touching you there. Forehead hiding against his shoulder as you anticipated the sensation, wanting to be able to muffle the moans that would start flowing embarrassingly quickly once he gave you the attention you were vying for.
“Come ‘er.” His voice was deeper when both of his hands bypassed the string over your hips and instead latched to your ass. Each cupping a cheek and squeezing.
The lift from his hands did bring you up a bit off his lap, so now were basically laid against his upper body. Dunks hands didn’t move though, even once he was content with your positioning.
You slung a arm up around his head when he groped the meat of your backside and you whined hiding your face from him still because the room was now filled with your join heavy breathing and the wet vulgar noise of your pussy. Each time he moved his hands against your bum the squelching of arousal between your lips was heard.
“So wet for me.” Duncan hummed, like he was hypnotized by the feeling of your skin under his hands and hearing how much you wanted him had only made the enhancement stronger.
“D-Dunk…” you were just whining, no clue what else to say, no thought on what you wanted all you knew was that you need him!
You had gone from overeager and amused to all soft and whimpery. He hoped that wasn’t a bad thing. It didn’t feel like it was a bad thing when your fingers were twirling the hair at the nape of his neck.
“You okay doll?” He tucked his chin down to see you, his hand stopping with his fingers up under the string that went between you cheeks and his grip on your cheek lightened some, he’d feel sick from how his head would spin the morning when you’d tell him you had little sprinklings of bruises all over your arse. He wouldn’t know if he should hit himself for being such an idiot or if he should palm his crotch because of how hard he got seeing you turn around to show him each little mark. His outstretched fingers left.
“mhm…” you blink up at him, looking way more drunk than any pint could make you! “Feels good.” You whisper laying your cheek back down.
“Take em off me.” You begged sweetly and he couldn’t resist doing what you asked so within the minute your panties and little bra pasties were off without you having to move an inch.
Duncan had shifted you up against his chest some more so your face could reach his better and it was his turn to press soft pecks down your neck and jaw. He didn't suck like you had, he didn't want people looking at you for a second time to confirm what mark their minds had seen.
He diddnt want people getting the wrong idea about you, thinking you were flinging yourself at people.
“touch me.” His thought, that were trying very hard to be valiant, faded when you press your hips forward and humped his stomach. “Don’t make me do it myself Duncan.” You groaned and before you could finish talking his hand had reached under your compeltly, forearm laid on your bum and fingers trailing over your warm swollen lips.
You turned your chin up so you could kiss him when he started to push them daringly against you. Easily working his long middle finger into your slit and dragging it right over your clit.
The sensation made you jolt a bit, you knew you’d been pretty worked up but the zinging feeling that his fingers rubbing against your hardened clit caused was so instant that it took you off guard. Normally it took a while for you you start feeling that sensation. Hell, normally the guy was already in you and you’d just started to play with yourself to make it somewhat stimulating for yourself!
But the gentlest touch, the simplest thing had you twitching when it was Dunk doing it.
“That too hard?” He pulled his head back so you could answer him instead of just muttering against his mouth. He wasn’t nearly as experienced as he wished he was right now. He thought those noises sounded good but the other girl he’d been with hadn’t started moaning so quickly…she hadn’t jerked around when he touched her.
Your forehead was pinched together and he couldn’t tell if it was focus or discomfort…until your head dropped back and he saw a happy smile strech over your face. So big that he caught a flash of your teeth as you nodded and your cheeks raised up making your eyes squinty.
“No, not to hard,” your words were flowing together “feels so good-I promise”. Your hand slipped down his back and grabbed a decent amount of fabric before pulling it up and tugging the long sleeve over his head.
Your hands instantly dragging down his broad chest and your tongue jutted out to lick your lips some as your fingers trailed over his stomach.
“can you keep rubbing me like that?” You requested while taking ahold of his forearm and rubbing through the pale hair that covered that bit of him, feeling the occasional little scar.
His face went warm at your insistence that he keep going, he wasn’t going to deny you, but the way you nodded fast, eyes moving from his face to his hand over and over had his pants starting to feel uncomfortable. You were just so bloody pretty and you wanted him to touch you so badly that you were bringing his hand to your soaked cunt?! It made him feel dizzy.
“so soft here.” He observed as his fingers rubbed gently against your damp folds and then began to make circles over your clit.
“and here-god, you’re really soft here.” The unoccupied hand had left your side and cupped one of your breasts. Experimenting with how the flesh pooled into the spaces between his fingers, that your dusky nipple hardened when he flicked at it with his thumb.
You’d taken to gripping at the bloody bean bag chair by this point because his hand between your thighs and the other toying with your nipples had you feeling better than the little vibrating wand you had stuffed in your sock drawer did! In the battle of man versus machine, Duncan was putting up a really good showing for man!
“Ahh! Fuck-hmm Jesus fucking Christ!” You swore eyes sealing shut and your back arched pretty severely as you came. Hips shaking and your legs slammed shut, trapping his wrist so he couldn’t keep stimulating you. “Oh my god…” you finally exhale, chest heaving as you caught your breath and slowly peeled your eyes open looking at him. He’d let go of your boob at some point during all that and had cupped the back of your head.
He just looked amazed and bewildered at the same time. Like he didn’t know women could react as strongly as men did when they had an orgasm.
You turned your head kissing his bicep while slowly opening your knees up so blood flow could return to his hand.
“That was amazing darling.” His voice was husky and deep. Need dripping from it but he wasn’t going to let his hunger have an impact on your enjoyment or in this situation your recovered post climax.
You murmured thank you’s against his arm. Laughing at yourself when his hand finally was allowed by your thighs to move and you almost instantly groaned from the loss of contact.
“I’m done for.” You groaned a bit rubbing your face and taking a deep steadying breath. You’d just had an orgasm that was so full bodied and wonderful that you were legitimately sweating and already you were winging about his hand leaving you?
“your lovely,” he smiled taking your spent image in, you look so pretty, hair all gone astray, cheeks red and eyes heavy. He bent over you a bit to peck your lips that were glued in a pleased little girl. “Look lovely.” He hummed kissing down your neck a bit hand cupping your sides.
“Dunk-“ you knew what he was planning, there was only one reason a man every started kissing down between your breasts and to your stomach. And as much as you did want his head trapped between your thighs you also knew yourself well enough to know that you’d likely he exhausted if you came again so soon, and you wanted to be able to help him get off!
His hands kept lowering down your sides, his big mouth devouring your lower belly in kisses as his fingers held to the sides of your bottom. He was pratically drooling, he wanted to taste you, wanted to make you moan like you had a minute ago with his fingers.
You almost forgot about needing to cool off because he started to kiss your thighs and his nose was dragging against the nook between your thighs and mound.
“wait-let me taste ya” he breathed out piercing blue eyes looking up at you as your pushed his big head back. “Come’on doll.” He wasn’t begging but he did sound like you’d taken the last bite of his plate.
With a shocking amount of agility you swung your leg over his broad back and rolled off the bean bag onto your knees, hands pressed to the floor to stand yourself up. He flopped over onto his back against the squishy ‘chair’ and just smiled, looking at you in all your glory. He hand rested on his chest for a moment, chest rising and falling quickly and when he saw your eyes dart to his jeans he groaned quickly covering the bulge with his palms.
“I don’t need any of that from ya.” He spoke quickly. “I can handle this, just want you to get what you need.”
You smiled slightly and shook your head. “And what if I want to handle it Dunk?” He could fucking cum at the sound of those words falling from your mouth. You got an audible groan from him when you continued. “I wanted your cock in my mouth since you touched my back during pre-drinks.” Promptly turning and going up the ladder to your lofted bunk bed.
“And don’t make me wrestle with those bloody jeans.” You called out, the bed creaking as you laid against it. Smiling to yourself, this was going so well, you couldn’t help but be giddy.
Duncan, to your joy, had taken a single step on the ladder to reach your mattress. He looked around a bit. It was a tight squeeze.
“do these things have a weight limit?” He grumbled while getting himself laid beside you. It was more intimate up here, you basically had to be touching and your eyes didn’t have anything to look at other than the other persons face.
Something about the closeness, his hand heaving over the curve of your hip and his head resting on the same pillow as yours made you nervous.
“I’ve actually hosted quite a party up here before. Orgys and whatnot.” You joke, feeling the need to lighten the intensity you were feeling in your heart.
“You’ve not, Jesus.” He rolled his eyes and you cracked a smile when his hand squeezed your hip. “Just don’t need to destroy your dorm the day before move out.” He muttered, lips brushing yours.
“I don’t know,” you breath in the air he exhales and your nose settles just under his. “That seems like rather convenient timing for me.”
He kiss him his laugh getting stuck in his throat and slowly you shit your knees under you and break the connection of your lips glancing down to see he had indeed gotten rid of the jeans but still had on his tight briefs.
Your hand reached down and grabbed him through the fabric, squeezing until he gave a pleased moan. You wanted to see what kind of grip he liked, all guys were different after all.
He gone red and silent, a hand covering his face as he twitched. You liked how shy he was about it, he wasn’t some prick who was as used to girls going down on him constantly and just expected it to occur. He was all flustered about your face even being level with his crotch and it just made you even more eager to give him a good show!
“you’re suppose to watch.” You hummed, dragging the waistband down his legs.
“Jesus fucking Christ-“ he shot up, head hitting the ceiling when he attempted to sit up to grab you. He was worried you were going to fall off the end of the bed trying to get his underwear off his feet, which were hanging pretty significantly off the end of the bed. “Fuck!” He hissed one hand rubbing the red spot on his forhead and his other hand had grabbed one of your thighs, gripping it quite hard and literally yanking you back.
You sat up eyes wide and cringed as his hand pulled away and you saw the bump on his forhead. “That why you’re suppose to just lay down and let me do this”. You sighed leaning down. Gently pressing a kiss to the injury.
“Just-stay away from the cliff that if the end of this bed, please!” He groaned, hand rubbing over your back as you peppered his lips and jaw with kisses.
“okay…” you started to kiss down his neck over his chest and smiled up at him when you reached the happy trail below his naval. “Can I stop right…here…this isn’t to close to the edge.” You spoke softly as your nose dragged against the sensitive skin leading to the base of his cock.
“Right Dunk?” You look up at him as your tongue came out to wet his shaft. Pupils widening as you as you get a taste of him. “Hm?” Your tongue laves up one side until your reach his tip and cock your brow waiting for a response from him.
“mmm, yeah-yeah that’s grand right there.” He nodded when you stopped moving. “So good there.” He swallowed the lump in his throat while reaching down to push your hair over your shoulder so he could see you better.
You give him a cheeky smirk and sneak a peck to his palm when it brushes your cheek before lowering yourself down properly and starting to lick and suck at him in earnest. You just wanted tk taunt him a bit. Not drive him mad, he didn’t deserve that!
“fuck!” He swore brows coming together as he watched your hand wrapped around him and your mouth strech wide. Your lips were cracked a bit in the corner but that didn’t bother you, actually it spurred you on more. The concept that he was so bloody big that your throat could not even take him fully-that made your thighs squeezed together. “Right there-y-yeah, just like that, oh fuck” he moaned as your cheeks puffed out from him taking up all the space in your mouth nodding down at you as the tip of your little tongue reached beyond your lips to reach even just a bit more of his veiny throbbing dick.
You were mumbling things against him. He had no fucking idea what you were saying because your mouth was very much occupied by him but he appropriate how it made your throat vibrate.
“S-stop- you gotta stop I’m going to finish.” He bit out, his hand leaving its place on your ass. He’d started rubbing over that curve as you knelt over him. You weren’t sure if it was more soothing to him or you!
You couldn’t frown, but you would have because he backed his hips up and pulled you back up the bed, rising his side off the mattress and slipping you under him.
“I’m not going to cum until you do.” He said seriously and you wiped your mouth, knees already rising up instinctively and settling against his sides. Opening yourself up to him. Whimpering your you felt his leaking tip drag against your warm slit. It felt like he was made for you. Cock hung at the perfect angle to slot right in…all he needed to do was part your puffy lips some.
“okay…” you were breathless in anticipation, holding to the back of his neck. “Technically I came already but yeah, okay.” You stroke the back of his head watching his face as his hand moved between you and he circled your clit until your hips lifted to meet his hand. Eyelids fluttering at the sensation and just before you opened your mouth to tell him to stop stalling his cockhead hooked inside your.
“oh-“ your brows raised that the feeling and your mouth hung open. Duncan was using his arms to keep himself up so you weren’t of entirely crushed under him. He was watching you very closely, observing you for discomfort or warnings he should stop. He had to sink in a few inches, mostly because his back was as hitting the ceiling and that wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world…but also because he couldn’t fully resist chasing the silk warm feeling of your core.
“more-“ you basically growl, fingers pulling a bit on his hair trying to urge him down to kiss you but he was way to paranoid about hurting you to get lost against your lips.
Duncan watch your face, watch your neck to look for signs of tensing or cringing as he complied with your demand, slowly rocking more of him into your insanely wet cunt.
“F-fuc-fuck!” You drawl out the groan as he stretches you. Able to feel him so deep that you swore he was moving around things in your stomach. “Fuck-your big.” You turn your face into the pillow whimpering.
“Hey-no, I need you to open your eyes….i gotta see you’re okay.” He said seriously, cheek to your jaw as his hips stutter to a stop.
You whined and turned your head forward against opening your eyes.
“keep going…please.” You wrapped your legs around his back and pushed your heels into him.
“Please”
Duncan kissed you, finally, for the first time since entering you and both of you just melted into one another. His hands always moving, soothing you as his hips began to jolt forward. You were gripping tightly to his hair, devouring his lips with yours and gasping out encouragement.
“Fuck! Oh god-faster!” You bite down on his shoulder hands shaking when his tips reaches a bit deeper and hits a spot in you that nobody has ever reached. It made you eyes go black and your fingers tense.
“Duncan-keep going.” You begged him. Voice breathy but deathly serious. He could feel how you were tensing around him, your walls squeezing hard and it was making his own vision a bit blurry from how good it felt to feel you milk him.
“keep-ugh!” You almost shout and push hard against his chest, not nearly having the strength to move him but he pulled out of you instantly, looking down as his cock legitimately dripped worn your release.
You were clinging to him in the moments after the intense orgasm, hiding your face in his neck and whimpering continuously, he is as kissing your neck stroking his thumb over your cheek. Just smiling like a fool because you look so bloody beautiful and you’d just physically given him everything you had. He was enamored before but now…well now he didn’t even have a word for what he felt!
Belatedly you regained a more normal breathing rhythm and the haze in your eyes cleared. Looking down between you because there was something warm on you. Your exhaled with a smile and bit at your bottom lip when you saw Duncan had came on your stomach at some point in the mist of your orgasm. He was heavy and soft against your hip now and when he realized he’d made such a mess against you he slipped to his side and groaned.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He sighed, instantly bearing himself up. He was about to reach for his underwear to wipe you up right away but you were looking down at your soft abdomen with a transfixed look, fingers slowly dancing down them and swirling up the pearly thick liquid.
“Finish in me next time.” You whispered feeling his release between your fingers.
He laughed into your shoulder having to look away from the playing your fingers were doing. Opting instead to look at your face.
“You’re serious?” He blinked and the flush returned to his ears.
“Mhm,” you nodded and turned your head so both of your cheeks were flush to the pillow and guy smiled sweetly at him.
“I think there’s alot of things about me that might shock you Dunk.” You smirk. Blinking softly at him as he leans over to kiss your cheek, just before your hand come up to your mouth and your lick your leash fingers clean. Not breaking eye contact with him for a second.
When the hedge knight catches a glimpse of you undressed, while stopped at a creak, it makes both of you look at each other with more curiosity than before!
•Hidden Gem (Dunk X F Flea Bottom Reader)
F reader lives in Flea bottom and has been having Dunk in her bed whenever he finds himself in kings landing. They both get their sexual needs met and like to pretend that’s where things end but neither of you can resist the growing emotional connection!
•Elixir (Dunk X F Targaryen Reader)
Ser Duncan returns to Summerhall with Egg for the first time in three years. He stayed away, primarily because he had been poisoned by his squires overzealous sister. Time has passed but her childish fancy has only grown.
•Domestication (Dunk X F Reader)
Ser Duncan is determined to ensure the women he loves is well cared for especially now that she has had his daughter. That doesn’t feel possible in Flea bottom so he find them a home in the countryside. This is technically a continuation of Hidden Gem, but could absolutely be read as a one off.
•3am notification (Modern Dunk X F reader)
Bashful Duncan comes over after getting chatted up on tinder at 3am.
•Taped up (Modern Dunk X F reader)
After obtaining a slight injury during a rugby match Duncan goes back to the office with the athletic trainer to get the muscle worked out and his knee all taped up.
•Crossroads (Modern Dunk x F Reader)
Starting college means leaving home, and while you are grateful for the opportunity to meet new people and learn new things. Very quickly you come to realize that you are desperately homesick….except it’s for a person not a place.
•Genesis (Modern Dunk X F Reader)
After admitting to Dunk that you had feelings for him a few weeks ago, he visits you at college and you are determined to hurl your relationship out of the friend zone entirely!
✨if you’d like to be tagged in any future Duncan fics let me know and I’ll add you to the taglist✨
always accepting requests but never making promises for when they’ll be fulfilled
Tags: Modern/College AU, Makeout session😚, Dunk being cautious and cute, hand stuff (M and F), oral M receiving, Dunk a butt guy, unprotected PnV, size difference, reader is more experienced than Dunk, established friendship ,Dunk generally being flustered at all times, friends to lovers, there’s a decent amount of fluffy bits to this because Duncan’s in love fr!
Word Count: 5.5 k
Summary: After admitting to Dunk that you had feelings for him a few weeks ago, he visits you at college and you are determined to hurl your relationship out of the friend zone entirely!
A/N: Could be read as a standalone but is part 2 for Crossroads. @niceforcum22 it’s not Truck Sex but I had to ensure they banged at some point! (Mature under the cut)
You felt all floaty, and your eyes were a bit heavy by this time of night, but every time he touched you it was like a warm exciting zing to your system. Dunk was strong, and you were finding out he was also strict. He was constantly reaching for you on this walk. Not that you minded. For one you didn’t want somebody else grabbing at you and two, his touch was heavy enough it cut through the beer haze that had settled over you.
“no…c’mon your this way.”
You giggled when he had to only strech his arm out to tug you back to him so you wouldn’t turn down another sidewalk.
He didn't even need to take a step off his path to reach you that’s how long his arms were.
Fucking hell it made your face feel warm!
You smirked all the way up at him grabbing his hand by the thumb and bring it around you so you were wrapped up in his elbow, both your arms around his midsection.
“so smart…you should be a geographer. There’s a program for that here, by the way.”
He rolled his eyes so deeply that you pressed your face against his ribs knowing he wasn’t going to indulge any more of your peer pressuring. He’d come to visit you, and to take you back home because finals had just finished for the semester.
You were dead set on convincing him that he should sign up for next semester. You wanted him here. So you packed most of your stuff up before he actually arrived so you could show him around campus…let him experience the dinning hall. You were right to assume that he’d enjoy the all you can eat aspect of it. He probably had three plates and two different bowls of cereal!
Then it was a walk around campus, he wanted to see some of the places you had described to him over the phone. It was sweet how much he remembered about the pointless conversations you guys had.
A pregame at your friends off campus apartment, with some game, and then ending the night at a pub. At some point between pre drinks your buzz has hit you, and thank god for it because it made you bold enough to break the touch barrier with him. You’d made it in his truck…for awhile that day when he found you trying to get some to surprise him. The day you born admitted there was something a lot deeper than just friendship happening between you two. But you went back to school two days later and so nothing more had actually kicked off.
Your friends knew how disappointed you were that nothing else had happened and so there was lots of giggling and joking at the pub when Dunk would go get you another drink, when he’d touch your back to alert you to somebody trying to squeeze by, and the snickering even came out of you when a table finally opened up and you were one seat short for the group.
You’d pushed Dunks hand off his lap and sat yourself right in it. Neither of you move again for the rest of the night. Your fluttering lashes kept him firmly seated when even the guys in the group called him over for another beer, and you were way to busy making little comments to him and tracing the lines on his palm to join your girlfriends in the bathroom.
He was staying with you tonight, obviously, and driving you back home to flea bottom in his truck whenever you guys woke up. He refused to imagine you attempting that long of a drive again in your beater of a car. “Would he fuckin wreckless of me not to just drive ya back” you’d blushed so badly when he told you that a few days ago and was bloody greatful it was a phone call and not FaceTime!
“my roommates staying at her boyfriend.” You told him slipping away from his side to get your key in the door.
“she okay there?” He asked, he was to sweet for his own good.
You nodded with a laugh as you got your heels off and the denim jacket you’d worn out. You wanted to be comfortable as soon as possible.
“she’s exactly where she wants to be.” You promise “and it’s sort of a favor to me.” You explained bending down to plug your phone into the charger.
“favor? In what way?” Dunk had grabbed your water bottle off the desk and as holding it down for you to take. He knew you’d probably gotten way more sloshed than this over the course of the semester but this as his first time actually seeing you have more than one drink so he was being a bit overprotective, at the bar and now apparently also with the possible future hangover you might get.
“wanted us to-“ you sigh when you turn and see the water being shoved to you. Being down on your knees infront of him, what you want to swallow down is not exactly water… but you do, because you know he’ll grumble, about how you really should, if you don’t.
“-Have some privacy.” You stood up wobbling a bit and leaning back against the lofted beds support. Taking another long drink of water and handing it back to him while he seems to fish around for a reply.
“you do want to have sex don’t you?”
“yes! Gods, yes. Absolutely I do-“ Dunk exclaimed quickly when his lack of response had made you second guess it you’d read this whole thing wrong.
“great!” You grabbed the water bottle from his hand and tossed it at your bean bag chair pushing yourself against him instantly and grabbing his shoulders. You couldn’t reach his lips, tippy toes or not so he was going to have to help you out a bit and bend down. Or pick you up-you’d be happy with that option too!
He reached a hand up to touch your side, to stabilize you a bit but he didn’t actually bent down to meet your lips, which were currently kissing at the bit of skin that the collar of his shirt didn’t cover.
“You’re lovely,” he was clearly fighting the words as they came out. “But your drunk…”
You pull your arms down a bit taken back by the comment. “So are you!” You gawk slightly looking up at him.
“I don’t want ‘ya waking up and regretting this.” He approached his hesitation from a different angle this time but when you started to strip your skirt off a foot from him his resolve threatened to break.
He had been feeling you arse thought your skirt all night…rubbing slightly at it when you would shift in his lap.
“fuck me-“ he groaned and ran a hand down his face with a low groan.
“yeah, that’s exactly what I’m thing ta do!” You laughed and stood there looking up so sweetly at him when his hand finally stopped shielding his eyes.
Your top was cropped so it wasn’t hiding any of your pratically bare midsection and legs from him. Your skin was so smooth…shinny still from the lotion he’d watch you apply earlier before the pub.
When you realized that he seemed pretty focused on the lace flowers that were patterned onto the front of your thong you reached down, bitting your lip and trailing your hand over the fabric.
“pretty aren’t they?” You spoke softly, clearly trying to be a bit more seductive than your normal voice might allow.
“feel them-“
“Shouldn’t be out wearing that sort of thing doll.” He warned, like scolding you might distract him from the actual desires he was having. He wanted to feel them for himself but he also wanted to pull them off and stuff them on his pocket for later. He had a sick idea that what was between your thighs was softer than your underwear. That was what he wanted to feel, you.
“That’s why I wore them out with you Dunk.” You rolled your eyes a bit. “Don’t think anybody could even attempt to look up my skirt with your big hand grabbing at my backside.”
“big hand-they aren’t-they aren’t that big are they?”
When he held his palms up between you two you almost moaned out loud. He had no blood clue how big they were, or that you’d gotten wet just from feeling how much expansive they were on your figure and he never he touched you.
“they are.” You blinked eyes glued to them and you legitimately licked your lip when seeing one of the veins bulge a bit.
“Sit down.” You push on his chest and he willingly sits down in your bean bag chair. It’s not much more than cushion for a man of his size but it’s better than just being on the floor.
“listen to me Duncan. I’m not that drunk-not by a fucking mile-“ he opened his mouth like he was about to argue with you and you covered his mouth with your hand and sat down in his lap. “-and I don’t think I’m capable of regretting anything that I might do with you.”
“Doll-you…you could regret it! Might not be what you like, or not as good as you expected.”
You’d grabbed his hand now and rubbed at it before leading his palm back to your arse and pushing on his fingers until he grope at the curve of you.
“I’ll regret not doing this and going home being able to pretend like all we are is friends.” You knew if this didn’t happen that both of you would just fall into normal routine back in flea bottom, that this moment of mutual attention and shared boldness would pass right over you two.
“Now don’t tell me what I want and don’t want, I’m serious Duncan.” You warn him as you grab the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up over your head.
“okay.” He blubbered out, eyes following your tits at the shirt comes off and your tits jiggle because they are only being controlled by some bra cakes.
“If you don’t want to sleep with me then that’s fine…but if all you’re worried about is my sensibilities in the morning then we don’t have anything stopping us!”
Apparently that speech, or the removal of your shirt, was reassuring enough for him because the second you stopped speaking he grabbed your jaw and pulled you to his mouth.
The exasperated attitude you had less than 20 seconds ago was completly melted away as you turned to straddle him and strech your neck to keep reaching as your lips for lost in the constant contact with his.
“For fucks sake…” Duncan had to break the kiss, lips flushed and his nose a bit red. Both of you panting for air unable to wipe the dopey smiles off either of your faces.
“don’t huff about something you like.” You kissed his jaw, warm tongue gently poking out to make the kisses your trailed down his neck warm and wet.
Your eyes glanced up at him when his big fingers gathered your hair and tossed it back behind your shoulder.
“you love kissing me…don’t you?” You drawled out softly, just before sucking a mark onto the underside of his jaw.
“Does taunting me get you off or something?” He quipped and sunk down against the bean bag a bit.
“You could find you-“ you whispered in his ear shaking your hips from side to side a bit as he lounged into a relaxed sitting position. Cutting yourself off when your voice trembled because Duncan had laid his warm hand down on your side, fingers catching the waistband of your thong a bit. You were dripping thinking about him pulling them down and touching you there. Forehead hiding against his shoulder as you anticipated the sensation, wanting to be able to muffle the moans that would start flowing embarrassingly quickly once he gave you the attention you were vying for.
“Come ‘er.” His voice was deeper when both of his hands bypassed the string over your hips and instead latched to your ass. Each cupping a cheek and squeezing.
The lift from his hands did bring you up a bit off his lap, so now were basically laid against his upper body. Dunks hands didn’t move though, even once he was content with your positioning.
You slung a arm up around his head when he groped the meat of your backside and you whined hiding your face from him still because the room was now filled with your join heavy breathing and the wet vulgar noise of your pussy. Each time he moved his hands against your bum the squelching of arousal between your lips was heard.
“So wet for me.” Duncan hummed, like he was hypnotized by the feeling of your skin under his hands and hearing how much you wanted him had only made the enhancement stronger.
“D-Dunk…” you were just whining, no clue what else to say, no thought on what you wanted all you knew was that you need him!
You had gone from overeager and amused to all soft and whimpery. He hoped that wasn’t a bad thing. It didn’t feel like it was a bad thing when your fingers were twirling the hair at the nape of his neck.
“You okay doll?” He tucked his chin down to see you, his hand stopping with his fingers up under the string that went between you cheeks and his grip on your cheek lightened some, he’d feel sick from how his head would spin the morning when you’d tell him you had little sprinklings of bruises all over your arse. He wouldn’t know if he should hit himself for being such an idiot or if he should palm his crotch because of how hard he got seeing you turn around to show him each little mark. His outstretched fingers left.
“mhm…” you blink up at him, looking way more drunk than any pint could make you! “Feels good.” You whisper laying your cheek back down.
“Take em off me.” You begged sweetly and he couldn’t resist doing what you asked so within the minute your panties and little bra pasties were off without you having to move an inch.
Duncan had shifted you up against his chest some more so your face could reach his better and it was his turn to press soft pecks down your neck and jaw. He didn't suck like you had, he didn't want people looking at you for a second time to confirm what mark their minds had seen.
He diddnt want people getting the wrong idea about you, thinking you were flinging yourself at people.
“touch me.” His thought, that were trying very hard to be valiant, faded when you press your hips forward and humped his stomach. “Don’t make me do it myself Duncan.” You groaned and before you could finish talking his hand had reached under your compeltly, forearm laid on your bum and fingers trailing over your warm swollen lips.
You turned your chin up so you could kiss him when he started to push them daringly against you. Easily working his long middle finger into your slit and dragging it right over your clit.
The sensation made you jolt a bit, you knew you’d been pretty worked up but the zinging feeling that his fingers rubbing against your hardened clit caused was so instant that it took you off guard. Normally it took a while for you you start feeling that sensation. Hell, normally the guy was already in you and you’d just started to play with yourself to make it somewhat stimulating for yourself!
But the gentlest touch, the simplest thing had you twitching when it was Dunk doing it.
“That too hard?” He pulled his head back so you could answer him instead of just muttering against his mouth. He wasn’t nearly as experienced as he wished he was right now. He thought those noises sounded good but the other girl he’d been with hadn’t started moaning so quickly…she hadn’t jerked around when he touched her.
Your forehead was pinched together and he couldn’t tell if it was focus or discomfort…until your head dropped back and he saw a happy smile strech over your face. So big that he caught a flash of your teeth as you nodded and your cheeks raised up making your eyes squinty.
“No, not to hard,” your words were flowing together “feels so good-I promise”. Your hand slipped down his back and grabbed a decent amount of fabric before pulling it up and tugging the long sleeve over his head.
Your hands instantly dragging down his broad chest and your tongue jutted out to lick your lips some as your fingers trailed over his stomach.
“can you keep rubbing me like that?” You requested while taking ahold of his forearm and rubbing through the pale hair that covered that bit of him, feeling the occasional little scar.
His face went warm at your insistence that he keep going, he wasn’t going to deny you, but the way you nodded fast, eyes moving from his face to his hand over and over had his pants starting to feel uncomfortable. You were just so bloody pretty and you wanted him to touch you so badly that you were bringing his hand to your soaked cunt?! It made him feel dizzy.
“so soft here.” He observed as his fingers rubbed gently against your damp folds and then began to make circles over your clit.
“and here-god, you’re really soft here.” The unoccupied hand had left your side and cupped one of your breasts. Experimenting with how the flesh pooled into the spaces between his fingers, that your dusky nipple hardened when he flicked at it with his thumb.
You’d taken to gripping at the bloody bean bag chair by this point because his hand between your thighs and the other toying with your nipples had you feeling better than the little vibrating wand you had stuffed in your sock drawer did! In the battle of man versus machine, Duncan was putting up a really good showing for man!
“Ahh! Fuck-hmm Jesus fucking Christ!” You swore eyes sealing shut and your back arched pretty severely as you came. Hips shaking and your legs slammed shut, trapping his wrist so he couldn’t keep stimulating you. “Oh my god…” you finally exhale, chest heaving as you caught your breath and slowly peeled your eyes open looking at him. He’d let go of your boob at some point during all that and had cupped the back of your head.
He just looked amazed and bewildered at the same time. Like he didn’t know women could react as strongly as men did when they had an orgasm.
You turned your head kissing his bicep while slowly opening your knees up so blood flow could return to his hand.
“That was amazing darling.” His voice was husky and deep. Need dripping from it but he wasn’t going to let his hunger have an impact on your enjoyment or in this situation your recovered post climax.
You murmured thank you’s against his arm. Laughing at yourself when his hand finally was allowed by your thighs to move and you almost instantly groaned from the loss of contact.
“I’m done for.” You groaned a bit rubbing your face and taking a deep steadying breath. You’d just had an orgasm that was so full bodied and wonderful that you were legitimately sweating and already you were winging about his hand leaving you?
“your lovely,” he smiled taking your spent image in, you look so pretty, hair all gone astray, cheeks red and eyes heavy. He bent over you a bit to peck your lips that were glued in a pleased little girl. “Look lovely.” He hummed kissing down your neck a bit hand cupping your sides.
“Dunk-“ you knew what he was planning, there was only one reason a man every started kissing down between your breasts and to your stomach. And as much as you did want his head trapped between your thighs you also knew yourself well enough to know that you’d likely he exhausted if you came again so soon, and you wanted to be able to help him get off!
His hands kept lowering down your sides, his big mouth devouring your lower belly in kisses as his fingers held to the sides of your bottom. He was pratically drooling, he wanted to taste you, wanted to make you moan like you had a minute ago with his fingers.
You almost forgot about needing to cool off because he started to kiss your thighs and his nose was dragging against the nook between your thighs and mound.
“wait-let me taste ya” he breathed out piercing blue eyes looking up at you as your pushed his big head back. “Come’on doll.” He wasn’t begging but he did sound like you’d taken the last bite of his plate.
With a shocking amount of agility you swung your leg over his broad back and rolled off the bean bag onto your knees, hands pressed to the floor to stand yourself up. He flopped over onto his back against the squishy ‘chair’ and just smiled, looking at you in all your glory. He hand rested on his chest for a moment, chest rising and falling quickly and when he saw your eyes dart to his jeans he groaned quickly covering the bulge with his palms.
“I don’t need any of that from ya.” He spoke quickly. “I can handle this, just want you to get what you need.”
You smiled slightly and shook your head. “And what if I want to handle it Dunk?” He could fucking cum at the sound of those words falling from your mouth. You got an audible groan from him when you continued. “I wanted your cock in my mouth since you touched my back during pre-drinks.” Promptly turning and going up the ladder to your lofted bunk bed.
“And don’t make me wrestle with those bloody jeans.” You called out, the bed creaking as you laid against it. Smiling to yourself, this was going so well, you couldn’t help but be giddy.
Duncan, to your joy, had taken a single step on the ladder to reach your mattress. He looked around a bit. It was a tight squeeze.
“do these things have a weight limit?” He grumbled while getting himself laid beside you. It was more intimate up here, you basically had to be touching and your eyes didn’t have anything to look at other than the other persons face.
Something about the closeness, his hand heaving over the curve of your hip and his head resting on the same pillow as yours made you nervous.
“I’ve actually hosted quite a party up here before. Orgys and whatnot.” You joke, feeling the need to lighten the intensity you were feeling in your heart.
“You’ve not, Jesus.” He rolled his eyes and you cracked a smile when his hand squeezed your hip. “Just don’t need to destroy your dorm the day before move out.” He muttered, lips brushing yours.
“I don’t know,” you breath in the air he exhales and your nose settles just under his. “That seems like rather convenient timing for me.”
He kiss him his laugh getting stuck in his throat and slowly you shit your knees under you and break the connection of your lips glancing down to see he had indeed gotten rid of the jeans but still had on his tight briefs.
Your hand reached down and grabbed him through the fabric, squeezing until he gave a pleased moan. You wanted to see what kind of grip he liked, all guys were different after all.
He gone red and silent, a hand covering his face as he twitched. You liked how shy he was about it, he wasn’t some prick who was as used to girls going down on him constantly and just expected it to occur. He was all flustered about your face even being level with his crotch and it just made you even more eager to give him a good show!
“you’re suppose to watch.” You hummed, dragging the waistband down his legs.
“Jesus fucking Christ-“ he shot up, head hitting the ceiling when he attempted to sit up to grab you. He was worried you were going to fall off the end of the bed trying to get his underwear off his feet, which were hanging pretty significantly off the end of the bed. “Fuck!” He hissed one hand rubbing the red spot on his forhead and his other hand had grabbed one of your thighs, gripping it quite hard and literally yanking you back.
You sat up eyes wide and cringed as his hand pulled away and you saw the bump on his forhead. “That why you’re suppose to just lay down and let me do this”. You sighed leaning down. Gently pressing a kiss to the injury.
“Just-stay away from the cliff that if the end of this bed, please!” He groaned, hand rubbing over your back as you peppered his lips and jaw with kisses.
“okay…” you started to kiss down his neck over his chest and smiled up at him when you reached the happy trail below his naval. “Can I stop right…here…this isn’t to close to the edge.” You spoke softly as your nose dragged against the sensitive skin leading to the base of his cock.
“Right Dunk?” You look up at him as your tongue came out to wet his shaft. Pupils widening as you as you get a taste of him. “Hm?” Your tongue laves up one side until your reach his tip and cock your brow waiting for a response from him.
“mmm, yeah-yeah that’s grand right there.” He nodded when you stopped moving. “So good there.” He swallowed the lump in his throat while reaching down to push your hair over your shoulder so he could see you better.
You give him a cheeky smirk and sneak a peck to his palm when it brushes your cheek before lowering yourself down properly and starting to lick and suck at him in earnest. You just wanted tk taunt him a bit. Not drive him mad, he didn’t deserve that!
“fuck!” He swore brows coming together as he watched your hand wrapped around him and your mouth strech wide. Your lips were cracked a bit in the corner but that didn’t bother you, actually it spurred you on more. The concept that he was so bloody big that your throat could not even take him fully-that made your thighs squeezed together. “Right there-y-yeah, just like that, oh fuck” he moaned as your cheeks puffed out from him taking up all the space in your mouth nodding down at you as the tip of your little tongue reached beyond your lips to reach even just a bit more of his veiny throbbing dick.
You were mumbling things against him. He had no fucking idea what you were saying because your mouth was very much occupied by him but he appropriate how it made your throat vibrate.
“S-stop- you gotta stop I’m going to finish.” He bit out, his hand leaving its place on your ass. He’d started rubbing over that curve as you knelt over him. You weren’t sure if it was more soothing to him or you!
You couldn’t frown, but you would have because he backed his hips up and pulled you back up the bed, rising his side off the mattress and slipping you under him.
“I’m not going to cum until you do.” He said seriously and you wiped your mouth, knees already rising up instinctively and settling against his sides. Opening yourself up to him. Whimpering your you felt his leaking tip drag against your warm slit. It felt like he was made for you. Cock hung at the perfect angle to slot right in…all he needed to do was part your puffy lips some.
“okay…” you were breathless in anticipation, holding to the back of his neck. “Technically I came already but yeah, okay.” You stroke the back of his head watching his face as his hand moved between you and he circled your clit until your hips lifted to meet his hand. Eyelids fluttering at the sensation and just before you opened your mouth to tell him to stop stalling his cockhead hooked inside your.
“oh-“ your brows raised that the feeling and your mouth hung open. Duncan was using his arms to keep himself up so you weren’t of entirely crushed under him. He was watching you very closely, observing you for discomfort or warnings he should stop. He had to sink in a few inches, mostly because his back was as hitting the ceiling and that wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world…but also because he couldn’t fully resist chasing the silk warm feeling of your core.
“more-“ you basically growl, fingers pulling a bit on his hair trying to urge him down to kiss you but he was way to paranoid about hurting you to get lost against your lips.
Duncan watch your face, watch your neck to look for signs of tensing or cringing as he complied with your demand, slowly rocking more of him into your insanely wet cunt.
“F-fuc-fuck!” You drawl out the groan as he stretches you. Able to feel him so deep that you swore he was moving around things in your stomach. “Fuck-your big.” You turn your face into the pillow whimpering.
“Hey-no, I need you to open your eyes….i gotta see you’re okay.” He said seriously, cheek to your jaw as his hips stutter to a stop.
You whined and turned your head forward against opening your eyes.
“keep going…please.” You wrapped your legs around his back and pushed your heels into him.
“Please”
Duncan kissed you, finally, for the first time since entering you and both of you just melted into one another. His hands always moving, soothing you as his hips began to jolt forward. You were gripping tightly to his hair, devouring his lips with yours and gasping out encouragement.
“Fuck! Oh god-faster!” You bite down on his shoulder hands shaking when his tips reaches a bit deeper and hits a spot in you that nobody has ever reached. It made you eyes go black and your fingers tense.
“Duncan-keep going.” You begged him. Voice breathy but deathly serious. He could feel how you were tensing around him, your walls squeezing hard and it was making his own vision a bit blurry from how good it felt to feel you milk him.
“keep-ugh!” You almost shout and push hard against his chest, not nearly having the strength to move him but he pulled out of you instantly, looking down as his cock legitimately dripped worn your release.
You were clinging to him in the moments after the intense orgasm, hiding your face in his neck and whimpering continuously, he is as kissing your neck stroking his thumb over your cheek. Just smiling like a fool because you look so bloody beautiful and you’d just physically given him everything you had. He was enamored before but now…well now he didn’t even have a word for what he felt!
Belatedly you regained a more normal breathing rhythm and the haze in your eyes cleared. Looking down between you because there was something warm on you. Your exhaled with a smile and bit at your bottom lip when you saw Duncan had came on your stomach at some point in the mist of your orgasm. He was heavy and soft against your hip now and when he realized he’d made such a mess against you he slipped to his side and groaned.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He sighed, instantly bearing himself up. He was about to reach for his underwear to wipe you up right away but you were looking down at your soft abdomen with a transfixed look, fingers slowly dancing down them and swirling up the pearly thick liquid.
“Finish in me next time.” You whispered feeling his release between your fingers.
He laughed into your shoulder having to look away from the playing your fingers were doing. Opting instead to look at your face.
“You’re serious?” He blinked and the flush returned to his ears.
“Mhm,” you nodded and turned your head so both of your cheeks were flush to the pillow and guy smiled sweetly at him.
“I think there’s alot of things about me that might shock you Dunk.” You smirk. Blinking softly at him as he leans over to kiss your cheek, just before your hand come up to your mouth and your lick your leash fingers clean. Not breaking eye contact with him for a second.
Tags: Modern/College AU, Makeout session😚, Dunk being cautious and cute, hand stuff (M and F), oral M receiving, Dunk a butt guy, unprotected PnV, size difference, reader is more experienced than Dunk, established friendship ,Dunk generally being flustered at all times, friends to lovers, there’s a decent amount of fluffy bits to this because Duncan’s in love fr!
Word Count: 5.5 k
Summary: After admitting to Dunk that you had feelings for him a few weeks ago, he visits you at college and you are determined to hurl your relationship out of the friend zone entirely!
A/N: Could be read as a standalone but is part 2 for Crossroads. @niceforcum22 it’s not Truck Sex but I had to ensure they banged at some point! (Mature under the cut)
You felt all floaty, and your eyes were a bit heavy by this time of night, but every time he touched you it was like a warm exciting zing to your system. Dunk was strong, and you were finding out he was also strict. He was constantly reaching for you on this walk. Not that you minded. For one you didn’t want somebody else grabbing at you and two, his touch was heavy enough it cut through the beer haze that had settled over you.
“no…c’mon your this way.”
You giggled when he had to only strech his arm out to tug you back to him so you wouldn’t turn down another sidewalk.
He didn't even need to take a step off his path to reach you that’s how long his arms were.
Fucking hell it made your face feel warm!
You smirked all the way up at him grabbing his hand by the thumb and bring it around you so you were wrapped up in his elbow, both your arms around his midsection.
“so smart…you should be a geographer. There’s a program for that here, by the way.”
He rolled his eyes so deeply that you pressed your face against his ribs knowing he wasn’t going to indulge any more of your peer pressuring. He’d come to visit you, and to take you back home because finals had just finished for the semester.
You were dead set on convincing him that he should sign up for next semester. You wanted him here. So you packed most of your stuff up before he actually arrived so you could show him around campus…let him experience the dinning hall. You were right to assume that he’d enjoy the all you can eat aspect of it. He probably had three plates and two different bowls of cereal!
Then it was a walk around campus, he wanted to see some of the places you had described to him over the phone. It was sweet how much he remembered about the pointless conversations you guys had.
A pregame at your friends off campus apartment, with some game, and then ending the night at a pub. At some point between pre drinks your buzz has hit you, and thank god for it because it made you bold enough to break the touch barrier with him. You’d made it in his truck…for awhile that day when he found you trying to get some to surprise him. The day you born admitted there was something a lot deeper than just friendship happening between you two. But you went back to school two days later and so nothing more had actually kicked off.
Your friends knew how disappointed you were that nothing else had happened and so there was lots of giggling and joking at the pub when Dunk would go get you another drink, when he’d touch your back to alert you to somebody trying to squeeze by, and the snickering even came out of you when a table finally opened up and you were one seat short for the group.
You’d pushed Dunks hand off his lap and sat yourself right in it. Neither of you move again for the rest of the night. Your fluttering lashes kept him firmly seated when even the guys in the group called him over for another beer, and you were way to busy making little comments to him and tracing the lines on his palm to join your girlfriends in the bathroom.
He was staying with you tonight, obviously, and driving you back home to flea bottom in his truck whenever you guys woke up. He refused to imagine you attempting that long of a drive again in your beater of a car. “Would he fuckin wreckless of me not to just drive ya back” you’d blushed so badly when he told you that a few days ago and was bloody greatful it was a phone call and not FaceTime!
“my roommates staying at her boyfriend.” You told him slipping away from his side to get your key in the door.
“she okay there?” He asked, he was to sweet for his own good.
You nodded with a laugh as you got your heels off and the denim jacket you’d worn out. You wanted to be comfortable as soon as possible.
“she’s exactly where she wants to be.” You promise “and it’s sort of a favor to me.” You explained bending down to plug your phone into the charger.
“favor? In what way?” Dunk had grabbed your water bottle off the desk and as holding it down for you to take. He knew you’d probably gotten way more sloshed than this over the course of the semester but this as his first time actually seeing you have more than one drink so he was being a bit overprotective, at the bar and now apparently also with the possible future hangover you might get.
“wanted us to-“ you sigh when you turn and see the water being shoved to you. Being down on your knees infront of him, what you want to swallow down is not exactly water… but you do, because you know he’ll grumble, about how you really should, if you don’t.
“-Have some privacy.” You stood up wobbling a bit and leaning back against the lofted beds support. Taking another long drink of water and handing it back to him while he seems to fish around for a reply.
“you do want to have sex don’t you?”
“yes! Gods, yes. Absolutely I do-“ Dunk exclaimed quickly when his lack of response had made you second guess it you’d read this whole thing wrong.
“great!” You grabbed the water bottle from his hand and tossed it at your bean bag chair pushing yourself against him instantly and grabbing his shoulders. You couldn’t reach his lips, tippy toes or not so he was going to have to help you out a bit and bend down. Or pick you up-you’d be happy with that option too!
He reached a hand up to touch your side, to stabilize you a bit but he didn’t actually bent down to meet your lips, which were currently kissing at the bit of skin that the collar of his shirt didn’t cover.
“You’re lovely,” he was clearly fighting the words as they came out. “But your drunk…”
You pull your arms down a bit taken back by the comment. “So are you!” You gawk slightly looking up at him.
“I don’t want ‘ya waking up and regretting this.” He approached his hesitation from a different angle this time but when you started to strip your skirt off a foot from him his resolve threatened to break.
He had been feeling you arse thought your skirt all night…rubbing slightly at it when you would shift in his lap.
“fuck me-“ he groaned and ran a hand down his face with a low groan.
“yeah, that’s exactly what I’m thing ta do!” You laughed and stood there looking up so sweetly at him when his hand finally stopped shielding his eyes.
Your top was cropped so it wasn’t hiding any of your pratically bare midsection and legs from him. Your skin was so smooth…shinny still from the lotion he’d watch you apply earlier before the pub.
When you realized that he seemed pretty focused on the lace flowers that were patterned onto the front of your thong you reached down, bitting your lip and trailing your hand over the fabric.
“pretty aren’t they?” You spoke softly, clearly trying to be a bit more seductive than your normal voice might allow.
“feel them-“
“Shouldn’t be out wearing that sort of thing doll.” He warned, like scolding you might distract him from the actual desires he was having. He wanted to feel them for himself but he also wanted to pull them off and stuff them on his pocket for later. He had a sick idea that what was between your thighs was softer than your underwear. That was what he wanted to feel, you.
“That’s why I wore them out with you Dunk.” You rolled your eyes a bit. “Don’t think anybody could even attempt to look up my skirt with your big hand grabbing at my backside.”
“big hand-they aren’t-they aren’t that big are they?”
When he held his palms up between you two you almost moaned out loud. He had no blood clue how big they were, or that you’d gotten wet just from feeling how much expansive they were on your figure and he never he touched you.
“they are.” You blinked eyes glued to them and you legitimately licked your lip when seeing one of the veins bulge a bit.
“Sit down.” You push on his chest and he willingly sits down in your bean bag chair. It’s not much more than cushion for a man of his size but it’s better than just being on the floor.
“listen to me Duncan. I’m not that drunk-not by a fucking mile-“ he opened his mouth like he was about to argue with you and you covered his mouth with your hand and sat down in his lap. “-and I don’t think I’m capable of regretting anything that I might do with you.”
“Doll-you…you could regret it! Might not be what you like, or not as good as you expected.”
You’d grabbed his hand now and rubbed at it before leading his palm back to your arse and pushing on his fingers until he grope at the curve of you.
“I’ll regret not doing this and going home being able to pretend like all we are is friends.” You knew if this didn’t happen that both of you would just fall into normal routine back in flea bottom, that this moment of mutual attention and shared boldness would pass right over you two.
“Now don’t tell me what I want and don’t want, I’m serious Duncan.” You warn him as you grab the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up over your head.
“okay.” He blubbered out, eyes following your tits at the shirt comes off and your tits jiggle because they are only being controlled by some bra cakes.
“If you don’t want to sleep with me then that’s fine…but if all you’re worried about is my sensibilities in the morning then we don’t have anything stopping us!”
Apparently that speech, or the removal of your shirt, was reassuring enough for him because the second you stopped speaking he grabbed your jaw and pulled you to his mouth.
The exasperated attitude you had less than 20 seconds ago was completly melted away as you turned to straddle him and strech your neck to keep reaching as your lips for lost in the constant contact with his.
“For fucks sake…” Duncan had to break the kiss, lips flushed and his nose a bit red. Both of you panting for air unable to wipe the dopey smiles off either of your faces.
“don’t huff about something you like.” You kissed his jaw, warm tongue gently poking out to make the kisses your trailed down his neck warm and wet.
Your eyes glanced up at him when his big fingers gathered your hair and tossed it back behind your shoulder.
“you love kissing me…don’t you?” You drawled out softly, just before sucking a mark onto the underside of his jaw.
“Does taunting me get you off or something?” He quipped and sunk down against the bean bag a bit.
“You could find you-“ you whispered in his ear shaking your hips from side to side a bit as he lounged into a relaxed sitting position. Cutting yourself off when your voice trembled because Duncan had laid his warm hand down on your side, fingers catching the waistband of your thong a bit. You were dripping thinking about him pulling them down and touching you there. Forehead hiding against his shoulder as you anticipated the sensation, wanting to be able to muffle the moans that would start flowing embarrassingly quickly once he gave you the attention you were vying for.
“Come ‘er.” His voice was deeper when both of his hands bypassed the string over your hips and instead latched to your ass. Each cupping a cheek and squeezing.
The lift from his hands did bring you up a bit off his lap, so now were basically laid against his upper body. Dunks hands didn’t move though, even once he was content with your positioning.
You slung a arm up around his head when he groped the meat of your backside and you whined hiding your face from him still because the room was now filled with your join heavy breathing and the wet vulgar noise of your pussy. Each time he moved his hands against your bum the squelching of arousal between your lips was heard.
“So wet for me.” Duncan hummed, like he was hypnotized by the feeling of your skin under his hands and hearing how much you wanted him had only made the enhancement stronger.
“D-Dunk…” you were just whining, no clue what else to say, no thought on what you wanted all you knew was that you need him!
You had gone from overeager and amused to all soft and whimpery. He hoped that wasn’t a bad thing. It didn’t feel like it was a bad thing when your fingers were twirling the hair at the nape of his neck.
“You okay doll?” He tucked his chin down to see you, his hand stopping with his fingers up under the string that went between you cheeks and his grip on your cheek lightened some, he’d feel sick from how his head would spin the morning when you’d tell him you had little sprinklings of bruises all over your arse. He wouldn’t know if he should hit himself for being such an idiot or if he should palm his crotch because of how hard he got seeing you turn around to show him each little mark. His outstretched fingers left.
“mhm…” you blink up at him, looking way more drunk than any pint could make you! “Feels good.” You whisper laying your cheek back down.
“Take em off me.” You begged sweetly and he couldn’t resist doing what you asked so within the minute your panties and little bra pasties were off without you having to move an inch.
Duncan had shifted you up against his chest some more so your face could reach his better and it was his turn to press soft pecks down your neck and jaw. He didn't suck like you had, he didn't want people looking at you for a second time to confirm what mark their minds had seen.
He diddnt want people getting the wrong idea about you, thinking you were flinging yourself at people.
“touch me.” His thought, that were trying very hard to be valiant, faded when you press your hips forward and humped his stomach. “Don’t make me do it myself Duncan.” You groaned and before you could finish talking his hand had reached under your compeltly, forearm laid on your bum and fingers trailing over your warm swollen lips.
You turned your chin up so you could kiss him when he started to push them daringly against you. Easily working his long middle finger into your slit and dragging it right over your clit.
The sensation made you jolt a bit, you knew you’d been pretty worked up but the zinging feeling that his fingers rubbing against your hardened clit caused was so instant that it took you off guard. Normally it took a while for you you start feeling that sensation. Hell, normally the guy was already in you and you’d just started to play with yourself to make it somewhat stimulating for yourself!
But the gentlest touch, the simplest thing had you twitching when it was Dunk doing it.
“That too hard?” He pulled his head back so you could answer him instead of just muttering against his mouth. He wasn’t nearly as experienced as he wished he was right now. He thought those noises sounded good but the other girl he’d been with hadn’t started moaning so quickly…she hadn’t jerked around when he touched her.
Your forehead was pinched together and he couldn’t tell if it was focus or discomfort…until your head dropped back and he saw a happy smile strech over your face. So big that he caught a flash of your teeth as you nodded and your cheeks raised up making your eyes squinty.
“No, not to hard,” your words were flowing together “feels so good-I promise”. Your hand slipped down his back and grabbed a decent amount of fabric before pulling it up and tugging the long sleeve over his head.
Your hands instantly dragging down his broad chest and your tongue jutted out to lick your lips some as your fingers trailed over his stomach.
“can you keep rubbing me like that?” You requested while taking ahold of his forearm and rubbing through the pale hair that covered that bit of him, feeling the occasional little scar.
His face went warm at your insistence that he keep going, he wasn’t going to deny you, but the way you nodded fast, eyes moving from his face to his hand over and over had his pants starting to feel uncomfortable. You were just so bloody pretty and you wanted him to touch you so badly that you were bringing his hand to your soaked cunt?! It made him feel dizzy.
“so soft here.” He observed as his fingers rubbed gently against your damp folds and then began to make circles over your clit.
“and here-god, you’re really soft here.” The unoccupied hand had left your side and cupped one of your breasts. Experimenting with how the flesh pooled into the spaces between his fingers, that your dusky nipple hardened when he flicked at it with his thumb.
You’d taken to gripping at the bloody bean bag chair by this point because his hand between your thighs and the other toying with your nipples had you feeling better than the little vibrating wand you had stuffed in your sock drawer did! In the battle of man versus machine, Duncan was putting up a really good showing for man!
“Ahh! Fuck-hmm Jesus fucking Christ!” You swore eyes sealing shut and your back arched pretty severely as you came. Hips shaking and your legs slammed shut, trapping his wrist so he couldn’t keep stimulating you. “Oh my god…” you finally exhale, chest heaving as you caught your breath and slowly peeled your eyes open looking at him. He’d let go of your boob at some point during all that and had cupped the back of your head.
He just looked amazed and bewildered at the same time. Like he didn’t know women could react as strongly as men did when they had an orgasm.
You turned your head kissing his bicep while slowly opening your knees up so blood flow could return to his hand.
“That was amazing darling.” His voice was husky and deep. Need dripping from it but he wasn’t going to let his hunger have an impact on your enjoyment or in this situation your recovered post climax.
You murmured thank you’s against his arm. Laughing at yourself when his hand finally was allowed by your thighs to move and you almost instantly groaned from the loss of contact.
“I’m done for.” You groaned a bit rubbing your face and taking a deep steadying breath. You’d just had an orgasm that was so full bodied and wonderful that you were legitimately sweating and already you were winging about his hand leaving you?
“your lovely,” he smiled taking your spent image in, you look so pretty, hair all gone astray, cheeks red and eyes heavy. He bent over you a bit to peck your lips that were glued in a pleased little girl. “Look lovely.” He hummed kissing down your neck a bit hand cupping your sides.
“Dunk-“ you knew what he was planning, there was only one reason a man every started kissing down between your breasts and to your stomach. And as much as you did want his head trapped between your thighs you also knew yourself well enough to know that you’d likely he exhausted if you came again so soon, and you wanted to be able to help him get off!
His hands kept lowering down your sides, his big mouth devouring your lower belly in kisses as his fingers held to the sides of your bottom. He was pratically drooling, he wanted to taste you, wanted to make you moan like you had a minute ago with his fingers.
You almost forgot about needing to cool off because he started to kiss your thighs and his nose was dragging against the nook between your thighs and mound.
“wait-let me taste ya” he breathed out piercing blue eyes looking up at you as your pushed his big head back. “Come’on doll.” He wasn’t begging but he did sound like you’d taken the last bite of his plate.
With a shocking amount of agility you swung your leg over his broad back and rolled off the bean bag onto your knees, hands pressed to the floor to stand yourself up. He flopped over onto his back against the squishy ‘chair’ and just smiled, looking at you in all your glory. He hand rested on his chest for a moment, chest rising and falling quickly and when he saw your eyes dart to his jeans he groaned quickly covering the bulge with his palms.
“I don’t need any of that from ya.” He spoke quickly. “I can handle this, just want you to get what you need.”
You smiled slightly and shook your head. “And what if I want to handle it Dunk?” He could fucking cum at the sound of those words falling from your mouth. You got an audible groan from him when you continued. “I wanted your cock in my mouth since you touched my back during pre-drinks.” Promptly turning and going up the ladder to your lofted bunk bed.
“And don’t make me wrestle with those bloody jeans.” You called out, the bed creaking as you laid against it. Smiling to yourself, this was going so well, you couldn’t help but be giddy.
Duncan, to your joy, had taken a single step on the ladder to reach your mattress. He looked around a bit. It was a tight squeeze.
“do these things have a weight limit?” He grumbled while getting himself laid beside you. It was more intimate up here, you basically had to be touching and your eyes didn’t have anything to look at other than the other persons face.
Something about the closeness, his hand heaving over the curve of your hip and his head resting on the same pillow as yours made you nervous.
“I’ve actually hosted quite a party up here before. Orgys and whatnot.” You joke, feeling the need to lighten the intensity you were feeling in your heart.
“You’ve not, Jesus.” He rolled his eyes and you cracked a smile when his hand squeezed your hip. “Just don’t need to destroy your dorm the day before move out.” He muttered, lips brushing yours.
“I don’t know,” you breath in the air he exhales and your nose settles just under his. “That seems like rather convenient timing for me.”
He kiss him his laugh getting stuck in his throat and slowly you shit your knees under you and break the connection of your lips glancing down to see he had indeed gotten rid of the jeans but still had on his tight briefs.
Your hand reached down and grabbed him through the fabric, squeezing until he gave a pleased moan. You wanted to see what kind of grip he liked, all guys were different after all.
He gone red and silent, a hand covering his face as he twitched. You liked how shy he was about it, he wasn’t some prick who was as used to girls going down on him constantly and just expected it to occur. He was all flustered about your face even being level with his crotch and it just made you even more eager to give him a good show!
“you’re suppose to watch.” You hummed, dragging the waistband down his legs.
“Jesus fucking Christ-“ he shot up, head hitting the ceiling when he attempted to sit up to grab you. He was worried you were going to fall off the end of the bed trying to get his underwear off his feet, which were hanging pretty significantly off the end of the bed. “Fuck!” He hissed one hand rubbing the red spot on his forhead and his other hand had grabbed one of your thighs, gripping it quite hard and literally yanking you back.
You sat up eyes wide and cringed as his hand pulled away and you saw the bump on his forhead. “That why you’re suppose to just lay down and let me do this”. You sighed leaning down. Gently pressing a kiss to the injury.
“Just-stay away from the cliff that if the end of this bed, please!” He groaned, hand rubbing over your back as you peppered his lips and jaw with kisses.
“okay…” you started to kiss down his neck over his chest and smiled up at him when you reached the happy trail below his naval. “Can I stop right…here…this isn’t to close to the edge.” You spoke softly as your nose dragged against the sensitive skin leading to the base of his cock.
“Right Dunk?” You look up at him as your tongue came out to wet his shaft. Pupils widening as you as you get a taste of him. “Hm?” Your tongue laves up one side until your reach his tip and cock your brow waiting for a response from him.
“mmm, yeah-yeah that’s grand right there.” He nodded when you stopped moving. “So good there.” He swallowed the lump in his throat while reaching down to push your hair over your shoulder so he could see you better.
You give him a cheeky smirk and sneak a peck to his palm when it brushes your cheek before lowering yourself down properly and starting to lick and suck at him in earnest. You just wanted tk taunt him a bit. Not drive him mad, he didn’t deserve that!
“fuck!” He swore brows coming together as he watched your hand wrapped around him and your mouth strech wide. Your lips were cracked a bit in the corner but that didn’t bother you, actually it spurred you on more. The concept that he was so bloody big that your throat could not even take him fully-that made your thighs squeezed together. “Right there-y-yeah, just like that, oh fuck” he moaned as your cheeks puffed out from him taking up all the space in your mouth nodding down at you as the tip of your little tongue reached beyond your lips to reach even just a bit more of his veiny throbbing dick.
You were mumbling things against him. He had no fucking idea what you were saying because your mouth was very much occupied by him but he appropriate how it made your throat vibrate.
“S-stop- you gotta stop I’m going to finish.” He bit out, his hand leaving its place on your ass. He’d started rubbing over that curve as you knelt over him. You weren’t sure if it was more soothing to him or you!
You couldn’t frown, but you would have because he backed his hips up and pulled you back up the bed, rising his side off the mattress and slipping you under him.
“I’m not going to cum until you do.” He said seriously and you wiped your mouth, knees already rising up instinctively and settling against his sides. Opening yourself up to him. Whimpering your you felt his leaking tip drag against your warm slit. It felt like he was made for you. Cock hung at the perfect angle to slot right in…all he needed to do was part your puffy lips some.
“okay…” you were breathless in anticipation, holding to the back of his neck. “Technically I came already but yeah, okay.” You stroke the back of his head watching his face as his hand moved between you and he circled your clit until your hips lifted to meet his hand. Eyelids fluttering at the sensation and just before you opened your mouth to tell him to stop stalling his cockhead hooked inside your.
“oh-“ your brows raised that the feeling and your mouth hung open. Duncan was using his arms to keep himself up so you weren’t of entirely crushed under him. He was watching you very closely, observing you for discomfort or warnings he should stop. He had to sink in a few inches, mostly because his back was as hitting the ceiling and that wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world…but also because he couldn’t fully resist chasing the silk warm feeling of your core.
“more-“ you basically growl, fingers pulling a bit on his hair trying to urge him down to kiss you but he was way to paranoid about hurting you to get lost against your lips.
Duncan watch your face, watch your neck to look for signs of tensing or cringing as he complied with your demand, slowly rocking more of him into your insanely wet cunt.
“F-fuc-fuck!” You drawl out the groan as he stretches you. Able to feel him so deep that you swore he was moving around things in your stomach. “Fuck-your big.” You turn your face into the pillow whimpering.
“Hey-no, I need you to open your eyes….i gotta see you’re okay.” He said seriously, cheek to your jaw as his hips stutter to a stop.
You whined and turned your head forward against opening your eyes.
“keep going…please.” You wrapped your legs around his back and pushed your heels into him.
“Please”
Duncan kissed you, finally, for the first time since entering you and both of you just melted into one another. His hands always moving, soothing you as his hips began to jolt forward. You were gripping tightly to his hair, devouring his lips with yours and gasping out encouragement.
“Fuck! Oh god-faster!” You bite down on his shoulder hands shaking when his tips reaches a bit deeper and hits a spot in you that nobody has ever reached. It made you eyes go black and your fingers tense.
“Duncan-keep going.” You begged him. Voice breathy but deathly serious. He could feel how you were tensing around him, your walls squeezing hard and it was making his own vision a bit blurry from how good it felt to feel you milk him.
“keep-ugh!” You almost shout and push hard against his chest, not nearly having the strength to move him but he pulled out of you instantly, looking down as his cock legitimately dripped worn your release.
You were clinging to him in the moments after the intense orgasm, hiding your face in his neck and whimpering continuously, he is as kissing your neck stroking his thumb over your cheek. Just smiling like a fool because you look so bloody beautiful and you’d just physically given him everything you had. He was enamored before but now…well now he didn’t even have a word for what he felt!
Belatedly you regained a more normal breathing rhythm and the haze in your eyes cleared. Looking down between you because there was something warm on you. Your exhaled with a smile and bit at your bottom lip when you saw Duncan had came on your stomach at some point in the mist of your orgasm. He was heavy and soft against your hip now and when he realized he’d made such a mess against you he slipped to his side and groaned.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He sighed, instantly bearing himself up. He was about to reach for his underwear to wipe you up right away but you were looking down at your soft abdomen with a transfixed look, fingers slowly dancing down them and swirling up the pearly thick liquid.
“Finish in me next time.” You whispered feeling his release between your fingers.
He laughed into your shoulder having to look away from the playing your fingers were doing. Opting instead to look at your face.
“You’re serious?” He blinked and the flush returned to his ears.
“Mhm,” you nodded and turned your head so both of your cheeks were flush to the pillow and guy smiled sweetly at him.
“I think there’s alot of things about me that might shock you Dunk.” You smirk. Blinking softly at him as he leans over to kiss your cheek, just before your hand come up to your mouth and your lick your leash fingers clean. Not breaking eye contact with him for a second.
Tags: Targcest, age gap, oral sex male receiving, cheating, Hurt/some comfort???(sorta), Maekar being a shit dad, mention of parental death, swallowing, corruption kink, virgin reader
Summary: Getting send to the Red Keep is the escape you desperately needed after your mother dies and your father can’t stand to look at the child who most closely resembles his late wife. When he eventually calls for your return home you cling to the comfort of your uncle.
Word Count: 3.7k
“I’ve been good…” Baelor groaned at your words, your position knelt beside where he sat making it all the harder to resist you. “Haven’t I?” Your voice cracked.
“you’ve been excellent sweet thing,” his voice was almost always soft, gentle, warm, it wasn’t different with you but there was some strain in it that you didn't notice when he was talking with others.
“Then do not make me go back to Summerhall!”
He’d showed you the raven that arrived this morning, your father wanted you to return home. That was all that was written. It was also the only letter he had sent since your arrival.
“please he’s, Uncle he’s so horrible now. Just yelling at me whenever he can bare to be in the same room as I.” Your jaw was trembling and Baelor could not help but extend his hand to stroke at it. He hated seeing you so worked up, so upset and panicked.
“Your place is there, with your siblings, with your father.” That was the dutiful response to give, but be worried that he did not even sound convinced that this was what should transpire.
Maekar had send his eldest daughter to the Red keep for Jena and he to look after. They hadn’t thought much of it, you were getting older as it was and being in the capital would do you some good. Introduce you to more people, perhaps a marriage of opportunity and connection could be arranged. You’d not find anybody in Summerhall.
The moment your wheelhouse stopped and he had seen your sunken lifeless eyes he knew that you’d been sent away for more than just the normal warding reasons.
Jena has gotten it out of you first and swiftly shared the reality of the situation at Summerhall with her husband.
Your father was not mourning your mother well. His patience was pratically gone, he refused to see Rhae, Daeron could not step up enough in his eyes, and you…you committed the sin of looking like her.
He couldn’t bare to be in your presence…couldn’t support you once while you attempted to come to terms with your mothers passing.
He’d not sent you away to gain new experiences, he’d gotten rid of you so he did not need to be constantly reminded of Dyanna!
You’d always been special to Baelor, the first daughter his youngest brother had and through a well timed visit he’d been there when you were born. Was the third person to hold you because Maekar was sick with some awful cold that the maesters determined would be ghastly for a fresh babe to get. He’d extended his visit to ensure you were getting plenty of attention. Aerion and Daeron had always been quite a handful and if your father could not be the one to hold you while dyanna tended to the needy toddlers than he thought he was the next best choice.
It felt like his sweet little thing, needed him again. Jena agreed instantly, you’d be better helping Baelor than following her around. She hoped he could patch the wound his brother had created.
“Tell him you still require my help.” Both your hands were holding to his leg now, fingers digging in as you drew more desperate. “Please uncle-he doesn’t even love me anymore. Not like you do.”
Baelor tensed in his chair hands unable to push yours away, he did not want you to feel rejected, so he laid his warm palm over your white knuckles, rubbing tenderly.
“Your father loves you dearly, he has just never been good at processing his feelings my love.”
He shouldn’t call you that. He shouldn’t even call you sweet thing because of the way that term made him feel. How he’d feel warm and full when you would grin at the affectionate title.
“but you help me sleep…” your voice was soft and your chin settled atop his knee. “What if I can’t fall asleep anymore without you?”
Baelor’s eyes closed for a long moment. He never should have gotten so close. He indluged for you, provided you to intimate level of attention you needed to stop being a shell of yourself. He had craved it as well, but he worked hard to not be a selfish person, he’d caved for your sake not his own.
“You know the songs, they are prettier coming from your voice than mine, that I am sure of” He attempted to deflect another one of your reason as to why you needed to stay.
Truly you’d thought that remark would have worked, your uncle had been quite shocked to find out from the maester that you had apparently not slept in quite some time. Your maids had attempted to get you to rest, Jena had and even your grandmother the Queen tried her hand. Baelor had been the only one able to accomplish the task.
He’d kept you in his study, helping him seal raven late one evening and the moment he saw your eyes being to blink for longer periods of time he stood from his desk, came to the spot you were sat in and urged your head down to his lap. Humming a song to you that he had heard your mother sing when you were little, it was something dornish and comforting and you he’d been unable to resist the allure of sleep when his voice and hands coaxed your gently into it.
You frowned now, lips in a tight scowled and a line between your brows that made it impossible to forget that you were Maekars daughter!
“Tell me what I can do Uncle, tell me and I will do it so I can stay.” You were a bit more urgent now, worried truly that he would not bend to your wills.
He sighed, hand leaving your clenched fists and stroking your cheek.
“my sweet thing…” he did not want to see you go. Ever.
“I can keep you company-“ you swallowed pale violet eyes blinking up at him as your mind raced faster that your mouth could move.
“You have, you’ve been very helpful-“
“company as a wife should…” you spoke over him. Breathing a bit harder, seeing his eyes flicker to the door of his study. It was shut, he always shut it now that you joined in in here. At first it had been the create a space where you did not need to be viewed, where your emotions could swell without people whispering. More recently he’d kept it closed because he did not want his time with you interrupted or tracked.
“Princess,” he was formal again, suddenly, as if that would reverse all the lines of propriety that he’d already crossed with you.
“I know she does not share your bed-“ you argue as if that makes your suggestion less dizzying for him.
“That is not for you to know. I’ve not asked you to observe the matters of my marriage.” He stood up, much stronger than you and so he had no issue escaping your hold on his leg. Your cheek pressed to the corner of his seat now as you curled in on yourself some. Skirts bunched up in your lap showing him your shins as you protected your head with your knees.
He wanted to kneel down and push them down, not let you close yourself off again. That was the issue, he felt to drawn to you, more concerned about not only your wellbeing but your happiness as well. His concern was more than what a uncle should have.
“Please don’t be cross with me.” You’d never seen him raise his voice like that, his tone, the tightness of it and the exhaustion, that had you feeling more dejected than him refusing to tell your father that you’d remain at the red keep for now.
“You cannot say things like that-“ he warned you eyes moving from the window to where you were sat on the floor. “If somebody heard you… Sweet thing, I don’t want them whispering about you.” The sharpness in his voice had softened and it was back to that warm gentle tone that you had grown so accustomed to hearing.
“I’m sorry…” you were bruising. Your lip from how feverishly you were kneading it between your teeth.
“I know,” he came bask one to his desk, sitting in the seat and letting his hand cup your cheek. “Don’t bite in that.” His thumb trailed over your bottom lip, rescuing it from the pinch and sighing as he looked over your face.
He deserved a whipping for the thoughts he was having…at the very least a clout on the head.
“How do you know what a wife does?” She’d never had a courtship and he imagined there were far less gospping ladies at Summerhall discussing scandalous trysts with stable boys or knights!
“I bled years ago, the septas tell you what that means…what will be expected when I wed.”
Baelor nodded, slowly, his silent gaze had a way of pulling the full truth from you.
You blink and your eyes flicker down the your nervous hands that fiddled with the fabric of your gown.
“My chambers share a wall with Daeron’s.” You admit, warmth spattering rather rapidly up your neck and to your cheeks. “The whores are not quiet” nor was he, but that felt even more shameful to admit.
“I see.” Baelor nodded more fully now, clearly believe that was more the truth than that the septas had told you.
“I do not mean to disparage Lady Jena.” That was the truth. She has been kind to you, offering the outlook of a women than you very much needed after loosing your mother and being stuck in the sea of men that was Summerhall.
Baelor’s hand was not leaving your cheek. He could not will himself to pull it away.
“I know you did not. Jena is a good wife, and a better mother, you can see that.”
You nodded cheek rubbing against his calloused palm.
“She has done her duty to me…to this realm, given me a heir and a spare, that is all I’ve ever asked of her.”
You swallowed mouth feeling rather wet all of a sudden. Not speaking was the right decision…it forced him to reflect on what he was feeling instead of just respond to whatever you would say.
Your lips parted slightly as his mismatched eyes consumed you. They did not waiver one second from you.
“You father likely needs your help-managing your sisters no doubt.” He sighed, thumb trailing under your jaw and lifting your chin just a bit.
“Your mother would not wish for you to be stowed away there like a Nan.” He exhaled, realizing he’d been holding onto his breath for much of this time.
“she’d want you to be content.” You nodded at that. Sitting up slightly. Fighting the urge to exclaim a yes!
“My sweet thing wishes to remain here, for a while long at least?”
It takes you a moment to agree because your were half transfixed by his low tone and half shocked that this was actually going in your favor.
“I wish for nothing more-and I won’t beg again when he next calls for my return! I won’t make you tell him know, I swear uncle.” Your hands left your lap to press against his chest as you got up onto your knees.
His eyes shinned as you jolted up suddenly, assuring him that this was a fine idea and you’d be compliant next time Maekar called for you. Baelor did not fully believe that last bit but your hands were pressing against his lapel and he could not muster enough courage in himself to resist you…or his own desire to keep you here.
He’d keep you right in this study, right on the floor next to his leg if he could. He supposed he could keep you there, who would stop him. Maekar perhaps but he had a feeling his little brother would need more time to sort his own mournful and angry mess of a mind out before he dealt with the perversions of his or your own.
Your breathing was heavy…made louder because Baelors seemed to sink with yours as the silence dragged on longer. You were waiting for him to say it…to tell you to do something. He was looking at you with so much hunger in his eyes that you knew what he wanted, anybody who stumbled upon this scene would know what the honorable Prince Baelor wanted from you in this moment. He could deny it but nobody would believe him that was how blatant the longing was.
“Tell me what you need…” his eyes flickered from you to his lap for a moment. Just long enough for your eyes to follow and find that the fabric of his trousers were stretched. The seam going down the middle pulling.
He could and would deny himself this desire, but not you. Never you.
“I wish to help you uncle.” You blinked up at him hands falling slowly down from the hold you had on his jacket and you lowered your bottom down onto your heels swallowing as your face got level with his lap. He’d opened his knees a bit so you had room to slip in closer and he nodded stiffly stifling a groan as when your fingers found the ties of his pants.
“very well my love, go on.” He granted you permission and then nodded when your fingers got between the laces pulling them apart. There was some relief from just that bit of fabric being opened up. Though his cock was straining even more causing more of ache when he saw your eyes lost in the curled hair that trailed like a forest down from his stomach all the way around his cock.
“I don’t wish to hurt you…” you worried when he groaned and the chair creaked from him leaning back against it. It was so good obvious to him that his sweet thing had not fallen into some guards laps and stroked his cock, not let a visiting lord get you drunk and make promises of marriage.
Baelor knew you’d not seen, let alone touched a man before and that realization had him rapidly swelling to his full length. Hand leaving your cheek to grab your uncertain hand and tucked it into the waist of his breeches guiding you to pull them down.
“doesn’t hurt-“ he bit out eyes slivering slightly at the relief that came from being unconfined. “You are doing so well.” He hummed smiling down at you and taking up the comforting hold of your cheek once more.
You’d pressed your cheek against the warm inside of his thigh when his prick sprung free. From your position you could smell the mix of salt and warm oak. It was quite strong and it made your eyelids hood.
You were practically nuzzling against him like a little kitten and Baelor had half a mind to let you just remain safe in that spot. Warm and looked after and not corrupted any further.
“can I touch it?”
He nodded before thinking and when you curiously brought your hand to the hair that was arranged in a dark nest at the base of his cock he realized that his want to be the one to experience these things with you first was defeating his desire to keep your safe and pure.
For the first time in decades Baelor Targaryen allowed himself the pleasure of selfishness.
“You can squeeze it, wrap your fingers around me and bring them all the way up to the t-top.” His voice jumped when you followed directions promptly and well! Fingers not able to close fully around the base of him but you still squeezed what you could eyes traveling all the way to the red angry swollen tip and stopping your hand right under it because if you kept lifting up more the glistening tip would be covered up by the flesh she was able to shift up and down.
“it’s harder than I imagined.” You murmured against his leg and brought your hand back down to the base squeezing some eyes lighting up when juicy thick veins revealed themselves.
“Aye, because you are a pretty little thing.” Baelor groaned, his hand shamelessly moving from your cheek to the hair behind your ear. Which did bring you in a bit closer to him.
“A sweet pretty thing?” You hummed and your eyes closed inhaling as your nose brushed his heavy stones. You enjoyed everything about him, how he spoke, how he trained, how he raised his cup for more wine during council, how he carried you to bed, gods you even loved how his stones smelt.
“yes. you are my very pretty, sweet thing.” He confirmed brow tense as he looked down at you. At how comfortable your hand was, at how you did not shy from being drawn in closer.
“Lady Jena,” he swallowed. “She would put her mouth here on my tip.” Baelor informed you and nodded as you quickly lifted your head and pressed your lips to his tip. Giving his cock a chaste kiss.
“More open…part your lips and teeth.” He urged and groaned as you did exactly what he said. Eyes blinding close as your warm wet mouth covered his leaking tip.
He should return his brothers letter, tell him to come to kings landing so they could spar! Maybe Maekar would win this time? Maybe he could wound him enough that this guilt would be relieved?
“Gods-Gods, yes that’s very good.” His hand closed around your hair and you whined with him in your mouth. The sound opening your mouth some more and that allowed Baelor to rut more than just his cockhead past your lips.
He could tell you were attempting to get his attention back on you, garbled words of uncle and Baelor coming out and drawing his eyes open and to you right away. Nodding his encouragement as he found the right words.
When you pulled your head back, red face and panting he sat up some and stroked your hair. “You breathe still, just through your nose.” He chuckled with a smile. You nodded chest heaving in your gown as you wiped your mouth and bit at your bottom lip again. He was grinning so widely at you, showing most of his teeth and your eyes settled on the smaller raised up teeth near the front. You wanted to lick them…kiss his lips and feel what his teeth bitting your bottom lip would be like. Baelor saw where your mind was heading and quickly gathered your pretty hair up in his first.
“can you finish this for me? This is what I need you to do my love.” He said it as if it was some gift or service you were doing to the realm, a task of high importance and not that he needed you to help him peak quickly so he did not lose all sense entirely and ruin in you ways that he worried he could not fix.
“of course!” He smiled at the earnestness in your response and he stroked the back do your head as a means of saying thank you.
You love your uncle, wanted to help him, wanted to remain in his good graces. You couldn’t stand the idea of him souring on your like your father had. Likely you’d of done anything the crowned prince asked…it was a blessing that he had more restraint than other men in his position would!
You eagerly opened your mouth and let your tongue hang out to taste the beads of white that leaked out of him. Cleaning that up before moving down so your lips were stretched around the base of him, thin and pale from how large he was.
You made noises, ones Baelor cooed at to continually assure you that you were doing well, that it felt heavenly.
“oh…” he was breathing hard, back tense and hips pushing up towards you. “Oh, seven hells…sweet thing…” your eyes lifted to him watching as his face contorted for a moment and then suddenly there was this odd warmth filling your mouth.
It was Salty and thick the foreign feeling dripping down the back of your throat made your eyes water. You blinked rapidly and attempted to pull back but your uncle had clung to your head. Hand sealed agains the back of your neck keeping you in place as he rutted against your face. Unable to resist as his release poured out of him.
His hands let go when the last bit of his spend had spurted out and you coughed hard falling back on your bottom looking up at him as you regained air to your lungs.
“I’m sorry-“ you started to say while whipping your mouth. He had a strange expression on his face. It wasn’t the beaming smile he had moments ago, it was contentless, his shoulders seemed more relaxed and he had some color to his cheeks that made him look healthy but there was a distinct troubled expression across his brows.
He shook his head insanity and stuffed his softening length into his trousers grabing you up off the floor and brining you into his lap.
“no…no don’t do that. You did so well, so so well.” He praised, hand trailing up and down your back. “It’s just….you did so well I feel quite exhausted now.” That wasn’t a lie. He was spent, he hadn’t spilled his seen anywhere, other than in his own hand, in years.
“Come here,” he kissed the bridge of your nose and tucked your face down into his neck. “You did perfect my sweet thing.” He kissed your temple this time and when you nodded against him he gave you a soft smile. “It’s going to be alright, I promise you, you can stay here with me. I’ll write my brother.”
You peaked up at him, cracking a greatful grin and wrapping your arms around him.
“Uncle,” you closed your eyes. “Can you sing to me now?” You requested, so innocently, that it made Baelor curse himself.
“Yes, yes of course, anything.” He swore.
You just wanted his comfort, did not want to leave what felt warm, loving and safe. And he wouldn’t make you.
Maekar: Some men will say I meant to kill my brother. The gods know it is a lie, but I will hear the whispers till the day I die. And it was my mace that dealt the fatal blow, I have no doubt. The only other foes he faced in the melee were three Kingsguard, whose vows forbade them to do any more than defend themselves. So it was me. Strange to say, I do not recall the blow that broke his skull. Is that a mercy or a curse? Some of both, I think.
Duncan: I could not say, Your Grace. You swung the mace, m'lord, but it was for me Prince Baelor died. So I killed him too, as much as you.
The Rook represents patience and duty while holding on to traditions and aiming for stability. The Hightowers, from their seat in Oldtown and in their steadfast faith in the Seven, hold a power that is not aggressive or regal but has been fostered through patient, political control. Building themselves up as an institutional force.
Notable characters:
Otto Hightower - methodically advancing his House and ambitions, all while protecting both his personal and familial interests even at to the detriment of others.
Alicent Hightower - fervent in her faith, she plays the defensive and protects herself and her family through a steadfast hold on her duty through endurance.
Ormund Hightower - representing an aggressive but patient strength, he establishes control through all forces of will.
Leyton Hightower - entrenched in the faith intrinsic to Hightowers, he is the epitome of patience, watchfulness and stability.
A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms: Lyonel Baratheon x wife!reader
Rating: Explicit (MDNI)
WC: 2.2 k
AKOTSK Masterlist
Requests Open
Tags/Warnings: Porn with some plot, mentions of character deaths, descriptions of blood and violence, hurt/comfort, injury, oral, no beta we die like the Humfreys, no use of Y/n, no physical description of reader given
A/n: For the lovely @sconniebelle who requested Lyonel and his wife locking eyes post Trial of Seven and needing each other. This is an early birthday present just for you!
Summary: Lyonel and his wife lock eyes after the Trial and a desirable urge overtakes them
The horns blare through the air, cutting through the clanging swords and splintering shields. It takes a few moments for those left standing to put it together. The trial has ended, and Ser Duncan reclaims his honor. Lyonel cannot help but smile smugly. The dragon house is shamed, the spoiled little princeling bringing dishonor. The Laughing Storm tastes blood on his tongue and mouth, sharp, tangy, metallic. He can feel the aches and pains setting in, but the adrenaline is thick through his veins. Like salt of the sea.
You had been sitting with young Prince Aegon, the two of you gripping each other's hands tightly. While you had only known little Egg for a couple of days, you were fond of him and a bit amused by him disguising himself as a peasant. The small boy had a good heart, one that his Ser Duncan also possessed. Despite the bloodshed, there was a lightness to the air as Dunk was proved the victor. Thin rays of golden sun slip through the heavy gray clouds as if the Gods were giving their favour.
"Go and see to your, Ser," you bent down to whisper, sending the boy off, who no doubt wished to check on Dunk. A deep bond existed between the two already, and you knew the poor hedge knight had taken a beating. Your gaze remains on your husband while Egg scurries off.
Lyonel stares at his lifeless destrier and feels almost enraged again. How he loved that horse. Prince Maekar had to ruin that, didn't he? To save that spoiled brat of a son? The son that Lyonel will learn yielded. The one who caused this mess in the first place because those damn Targaryens are a mad bunch. Should have been done away with after the dance, he thinks, we waited too long, and now these insane silver-haired madmen will remain in power for centuries to come. Prince Baelor could be different, but the Gods were never that kind, were they? He watches two men drag the battered Prince Aerion from the field, and Lyonel feels smug again.
The smugness he feels quickly disappears when his gaze lands on his fallen brethren. The two Humfreys. What a pair they were. Long time companions, always by his side and loyal, good men to the very end. He scans the crowd, looking for you, and spots you in the stands, standing up with your hands clasped in front of you. Your eyes lock onto him. Even among the confusion and bloodshed, you never once lost sight of him. Soft prayers spilling silently from your lips that the Gods would protect him, and they answered you. Wishing that your prayers had protected more of the men.
Tears dribble down your cheeks from relief, and time seems to stand still around you. You can hear the cheers, hear the yells, and you watch the men slowly file off the muddy field, but Lyonel makes his way to you. Those dark eyes never leave yours. The thick mud threatens to drag him under, but he persists. Blood and rot cling to the air, making his stomach lurch, and the sight of Beesbury's lifeless body nearly makes him gag. The thigh wound is deep, pooling the mustachioed man in thick crimson, and the broken lance protrudes from the ghastly wound.
Once you're in his arms, he buries his face into your neck and breathes in the heady scent of your jasmine perfume. How sweet you are in his arms. A blessed respite to this accursed day. In the moment, he only cares for you. A warm spark crackles and sizzles in the air; an animalistic desire for your husband blooms through you. He ignores the twinge in his ribs, his aching shoulder that feels like raw tendons on fire, and the burning pain in his knee. You can't even get a word out, just a gasp as your husband tosses you over his shoulder and limps away toward the Baratheon tent.
"Lyonel!"
"I am fine," he assures you, giving a gentle pat to your rump that makes heat flood your face. Though the way he limps tells you otherwise, but the stubborn man will never listen to your pleas or scoldings.
"You just survived a trial, might you take it easy?"
"No, I crave my wife and to be between those sweet, sweet thighs of hers. I care for nothing else, truth be told."
"You were very valiant. You lasted the longest on your steed," you murmur.
"Aye, I did," he grins, hefting you up and winces as a fierce pain rips through his side. He grits his teeth while placing you on the bed.
"Oh Seven Hells, Lyonel, you are in pain," you whisper, cupping his face.
"What must I do to prove that I can make it through?" he grins, but you can see torment in those dark eyes, laced in the flecks of hazel.
"I cannot deny that I have stirrings of my own, watching you out there. My Gods, you were magnificent. Let us attend to each other, then I will attend to your wounds. That maester of yours is…lacking."
"What a kind way to put it. He's a foolish cunt," Lyonel laughs before pressing his bruised and bloody mouth against yours.
You taste the dried flecks, rough beneath your tongue, and feel the wound split, fresh scarlet spilling against your tongue. But you don't mind. Your husband is a part of you, and blood has never shied you away. His armor clanks, and you make him stand so you can remove the pieces carefully until he's left in the pale gold arming doublet and breeches. As you unravel him from those, you reveal green and purple bruised flesh. There is a brief temptation to dig your thumbs into them like one would with the flesh of overripe fruit. Instead, you kiss them, willing the marred flesh to heal quickly.
Lyonel unlaces you from the golden dress decorated with prancing stags, hand dipping between your stockinged thighs. How he'd rather have this wetness against his lips over the blood currently staining them. You fix this issue by using your embroidered handkerchief to wipe his mouth clean. As a woman, you've had enough blood between your thighs; you didn't need more. Carefully, he lowers between your splayed legs as you recline on the bed, draped in soft, golden sheets. He nibbles on the tender skin above the roll of the stocking before rolling each down your shapely calves. Your fingers tangle in those mussed curls. Pitch black laced with white and gray. Same as that beard.
That beard scratching against your thighs, rubbing and marking you with his scent. His head disappears further between your swells of flesh, tongue sliding over your cunt and gathering up the sweet, dewy droplets. The musky sweetness dulls the tangy blood. It isn't long before two fingers dip inside you, sweeping and curling while his tongue traces over your swollen pearl. A delicious throb, your own little tinge of pain. But it doesn't compare to the ache spreading through his body. The adrenaline is fading, but he's stronger. He's made of fine Baratheon stock. A little pain cannot stop the mighty Laughing Storm.
His commanding touch leaves your lungs gasping for air. Each contraction makes you twitch and clench around his fingers buried inside you. He wraps his lips around your throbbing pearl, tongue tracing tenderly over the bundle of nerves, which makes your toes twitch. Thoughts bleed from your mind, only focused on Lyonel and the pleasure he leaves swimming through your body. All it takes is a sweet crook of his fingers, and you're spilling into sweet oblivion, leaving his mouth coated in your delicious ambrosia.
"Oh, now that is a healing exilir," Lyonel purrs against your slick thighs.
With heated cheeks, you laugh softly and gently nudge him with your foot. "Has it chased all your aches and pains away?" you coo.
"Just about. We can send that damn witch doctor away," he grins, those white teeth flashing sharply. "That sweet nectar dripping from you is better than milk of the poppy."
"Come, let me worship my husband. Such a skilled warrior deserves a proper reward."
Those dark eyes flash, diluted with golden flecks as you pull him with you onto the bed. You're careful as you maneuver him under you, straddling his slender waist with the curve of your arse resting against those strong thighs. Even battered and bruised, he looks magnificent. None could deny your husband's skill; the heart of a warrior beats deep within. He is brave, brash, and bold, and you love every inch of him. Your ringed fingers skim down his furry chest, burying in the thick trail leading to his heavy, erect cock.
You draw a groan from him as your fingers wrap around his shaft, grazing your thumb over his leaking, ruby red tip. Swollen lips wrap around the glowing flesh, suckling away the salty seed that beads over his flesh. Slowly, your mouth engulfs him, cheeks bulging from his length and width. It's almost a bit comical, but you swallow down your giggle and return to the task at hand. You take your time, making sure Lyonel savors each moment as you pleasure his cock with your mouth.
"Seven Hells, woman, I don't want to waste this on that pretty mouth. Mount me," he groans, chest, neck, and cheeks stained almost ruby red.
Gently, you pull your mouth away and line up with his cock before sinking onto him. It feels like home. His fingers wrap around your braided hair, pulling you down into a fervid kiss while you gently ride him. Red, mottled skin dappled with smears of plum cling to the flesh just below his chest, and you can feel his pain seeping through you.
"Come, my darling," you whispered, stroking his face and watching the haziness overtake his dark eyes. The high wears away, and you do not wish to cause more damage, yet you cannot deny him this.
His hands furl tightly around your hips, driving you deeper onto his cock. "I'm not dead, dear wife. I survived a Trial of Seven; I can certainly survive fucking my wife." There's that grin again. That cheeky spirit hasn't died.
Your hands trail over his furry chest, letting him guide your hips, naked backside slapping against his thighs. For a moment, that is the only sound filling the tent; smacking flesh until a needy moan spills from you as Lyonel fills you with his seed. You cradle his face in your hands, letting the sweat bead down in heavy droplets over your back and shoulders. A sudden heat curls through the air, making it almost suffocating. There is a shift, and while you can't explain it, something has happened. The world has been thrown from its axis.
Once clad in a yellow robe, you instruct the servants to prepare a bath for your husband. You tenderly soap and scrub him up as he rests in the water. Every spec of dirt and grime is removed from him, and his dark hair shines after your skilled fingers work through it. You tend to his injuries, wrapping his bruised ribs and applying thin layers of ointment to the open wounds. One of his stewards rushes in just as you finish covering in the soft black velvet robe.
"My lord…"
"Out with it, man." Lyonel waves his hand impatiently.
"Prince Baelor…"
"Please let the next thing out of your mouth be a fully finished thought," Lyonel sighs and fixes him with a glare.
"Prince Baelor is dead. They said it was his brother's mace that got him."
You can't control the gasp that falls from your mouth, which you quickly cover, and grab the top of the chair that Lyonel sits in. It explains what you felt earlier. Lyonel closes his eyes and squeezes the bridge of his nose.
"Fuck. Probably the last good man to come from that family," he whispers.
"I will go to give Prince Maekar our condolences later," you assure both men. Gently, you lower yourself onto one of Lyonel's thighs. "It is selfish of me to say, but I am glad it was not you."
His hands slip around your waist and hold you close. "As am I."
The maester stumbles into the tent, dark gray robe billowing behind him and looking every inch the fool that he is. Lyonel makes a show of sighing loudly.
"What do you want, you damned witch. My wife has already tended to me."
"Perhaps you can take him to tend to Ser Duncan, I'm sure he is in need," you said gently, rubbing Lyonel's tense shoulders.
"Ever the kind heart," Lyonel smiles, kissing your head. "Let us go find him."
You are overseeing the breaking down and packing up while Lyonel is gone, only to find him in a sour mood when he returns. He leans on his antler crutch, squeezing the bridge of his nose.
"I'm ready to leave this damned place behind."
It's all you need to hear to understand that Dunk has turned down your husband's generous offer to accompany him back to Storm's End.
"Let us go then," you smile, lifting his palm to your cheek and nuzzling it.
His eyes soften. You're all he needs to weather any storm that comes his way.
