#V: Dragon Defeated | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lola-writes · 11 months ago

Text

Prince Regent

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Word Count: 8.6k

Synopsis: Aemond returns to the Red Keep after the battle of Rook’s Rest with a newfound vigor for his wife.

Themes & Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI!), POV first person (Aemond’s & reader’s), s2x04,05 inspired, enemies to lovers trope, smut, violence, blood, dark/possessive Aemond, breeding kink, swearing, mentions of rape, high valyrian, fingering, multiple orgasms, p in v, doggystyle, creampie, rough sex, hair pulling, choking

Song: Hide and Seek ~ Klergy, Mindy Jones

Latest oneshot: A Dragon's Lullaby

Masterlist | Add yourself to my taglist | Playlist | Ao3

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Enjoy the read!

[gif @aemondstark ]

AEMOND

Smoke. Dragon fire. Blood.

It clung to me, acrid and sweet, like a perverse cloak of victory.

A primal urge, raw and unbidden, erupted within me, a hunger that transcended the battle’s end. It devoured my senses. It vibrated within my bones. It consumed my very being.

My adrenaline ebbed, leaving a hollowness in its wake. The battle was over. Victory was ours. Gleaming armor was storming the castle. But that victory hung hollow, a meaningless echo in the carnage. My flesh seared with defeat. A strange fire, unsatiated, stirred beneath my skin.

I needed something more. Something I could sink my teeth into, as Vhagar had. Something warm and living.

From the air, I watched the smoke curl skyward, soldiers scattering like startled ants, and Meleys red corpse lay vanquished beneath brick and dust.

The warmth of my kill was still writhing. It was a fresh, living ember, demanding to be tended.

The impact of my brother’s fall had torn the wood asunder, set the ground ablaze, smoke and cinders rising steadily towards the heavens. My gaze settled on the inferno, and I urged Vhagar, my reflection in scales and fire, towards it, my mighty beast beating the wind like thunder as we circled twice around the barrenness of the forest, before she heeded my command.

“Qubemagon, Vhagar.” (Descend)

I dismounted her and trod a path towards the inferno, my sword materializing in my grasp with a practiced turn of my wrist. Shades of red marred my vision. The air shimmered, thick with smoke and the metallic tang of blood.

Adrenaline trickled into my bloodstream.

Never had I been so close to my birthright, so close to erasing the past. My grip tightened around the hilt. Images swam up before me. A lifetime of humiliations, each one a searing brand in my retina. My brother getting what he wasn’t fit for, presented to him on a silver platter. But no longer. No more would he be the architect of my suffering.

But as a tremor shook the ground, a low rumble heralding the broken form of the golden dragon, a monument of smoke, blood, dirt, and ashes, none of it seemed to matter.

As I crested a rise, the world snapped into sharp focus. My gaze landed on him - my brother; melted into a nightmarish tableau of steel, flesh, and bone, encircled by his dragon’s golden body.

Resolution, cold and heavy, settled in my chest. Killing him would be fruitless. The Stranger had already requested an audience.

I had achieved what needed to be done. As I lifted the edge of my sword to its sheath, a voice echoed through the forest.

“Aemond!” Cole cried my name like a desperate warning. I glanced back, my weapon disappearing into its sheath with a final rasp.

I looked down at my sacrifice. The damage was raw, excessive. The damage that was wanton. A pang of unease twisted in my gut.

A glint of metal caught my eye, and I dropped to my haunches to retrieve the Conqueror’s Valyrian steel dagger from the bloodied earth. The dagger that was once Aegon’s. It was mine now.

Ser Criston’s rustling armor announced his approach. “Where is His Grace?” he asked, voice quivering.

I didn’t respond. Instead, I tilted my chin, allowing the glistening steel guide his gaze toward the grotesque sculpture of my melted brother encircled by golden scales.

Ser Criston crumpled to his knees without a word, as I rose to my feet.

A cold knot of regret twisted in my chest as I regarded my tribute. But it was fleeting, replaced by the icy fire of my ambition.

There was much to be done, and I needed to proceed if I were to achieve it. I turned on my heel and left Cole and my broken brother behind.

The battlefield and the devastation shrank beneath me as Vhagar’s powerful wings propelled us skyward.

A sharp thrill prickled my skin that was naught from the velocity, but rather that of my impending regency.

Upon returning to King’s Landing, I made my way to the small council chamber, ascending the stairs with slow deliberate steps. The air was thick with tension. The council was in disarray, engrossed in a heated discussion, but fell silent as the doors swung open. Eyes turned to me.

“My Lords,” I announced, my voice cutting through the sudden hush. I rounded the council table. “Mother,” I said, offering a curt nod of acknowledgement as I passed Alicent’s chair.

“Aemond,” she demanded, steel in her voice. “Where is Aegon?”

A heavy pause hung in the air before I met her gaze.

“Aegon has fallen,” I said.

The council erupted in uproar.

Cries of outrage and accusations.

Obscenities.

Scandal.

“How could this be allowed to happen?”

“What is the meaning of this?”

“We are doomed!”

The disapproval of the Lords sullied the chambers. This council was surely in lack of discipline. I already had my eyes on who I were to replace.

“The King is dead!”

“The King is not dead,” I countered, my voice calm and mellifluous, soothing the council members like warm milk. Voices dipped and eyes turned to me, an invisible shudder surging through the air. “He has merely sustained grave injuries and is being brought back to the Red Keep for treatment as we speak.” I began to pace around the table, hands slotted behind my back. “The King fought bravely,” I continued. “Landing mortal injuries to the Pretender’s cause. But the Red Queen cast him out of the sky before I could get to him.”

My pacing had brought me to the head of the council table, where I ceased my step. My hand reached out to allow my fingers to trace the chair frame, its iron vibrating with the power I so craved.

It was palpable.

It was mine for the taking.

I looked up at the members of the small council, my eye piercing each and every one of them until they quivered in their chairs.

“And in the coils of torment,” I spoke. “My brother, King Aegon, named me Prince Regent.”

A tremor vibrated the room, weary eyes glanced at each other, bodies twisting uncomfortably in creaking chairs.

“If anyone should be named regent, surely it should be me, his mother,” voiced Alicent.

I cast my gaze on her.

“Aemond is next in line,” came voices from the small council.

“Yes, but the King still lives!” Alicent implored.

“Who am I to contest the wishes of the King?” I said softly, casting her a look of pure innocence.

Alicent’s eyes welled like a tide of despair, her head dipping to the table with defeat. If Alicent could conjure words that had not been uttered to serve her own ends, why could I not?

“Aemond…” she started, her voice a gentle tremble. “Could we at least discuss this?”

“As prince regent, I vow to serve this realm, my Lords, and guide our path to victory against the Whore of Dragonstone.”

My gaze drifted to the platform in the center of the table, settling on the cold polished marble that remained. The King’s marble. I reached for it, and as my fingers closed around its smooth surface, I met Alicent’s eyes. A flicker of desperate plea danced within them, and I held it with a cold response. She exhaled with defeat as I seated myself in the King’s chair, placing the marble in its rocky nest.

“All hail Aemond, Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm,” Lord Tyland Lannister’s voice came, and the words echoed across the table.

A smirk played on my lips. “My Lords,” I began, splaying my hands atop the table. “Let us commence.”

YOU

Mutters. Whispers. Gossip.

The news, carried on frantic breaths, was a tangled mess.

One moment, the King was dead, the next, grievously wounded. Some murmured of a crippled monarch, others of his mighty dragon slain.

It buzzed in my ears as I made my way towards the throne room.

Fear, a cold serpent, coiled in my gut.

The throne room pulsed with tense energy. Hundreds of courtiers jostled for position, their faces etched with a mixture of morbid curiosity and nervous anticipation. I descended the cold stone steps, the weight of each step echoing the growing dread in my heart.

The Iron Throne loomed before me, an empty monument of jagged steel. Its cruel beauty, forged from a thousand fallen enemies, held a chilling glint in the flickering torchlight. I observed it over the shoulder of the woman in front of me, the precariousness of my position suddenly amplified.

A shiver ran down my spine. Sometimes, I believed it was cursed. Promising to cast whoever graced it to a terrible fate.

My fingers, restless with apprehension, turned my rings about my fingers, pulling them off and on in a nervous dance. A prickling sensation spread through me as I felt countless eyes burning into my back. Disapproval mingled with a strange reverence. The room thrummed with unspoken questions, and I, too, yearned for answers, desperately seeking a foothold in the swirling vortex of uncertainty.

A ripple of anticipation surged through the crowd as a figure emerged. I turned to witness the gleaming silver armor of the King’s Guard announcing Ser Criston Cole, the newly appointed Hand of the King. Hundreds of eyes swiveled in his wake as he strode towards the Iron Throne, which seemed to gnash its serrated teeth at his approach.

My mind churned in chaotic disarray. Ser Criston had marched on Rook’s Rest, prompting Aemond’s hurried departure. Where my husband was now, remained a mystery. Perhaps still at Rook’s Rest, tending to the fallen King, or perhaps continuing on to Harrenhal, a destination he oft mentioned.

None of it mattered.

My marriage to Aemond had been a political maneuver, as cold and sterile as a septa’s cell. He held no affection for me, nor I for him. He was the absent, aloof prince I’d always imagined him to be. Carrying a frozen heart of a killer. Our union was no more than an alliance. Though I was hardly complaining. Married life granted me freedoms I scarcely thought possible for a highborn lady. But I would jest if I said I did not long for something more. Something warm. Something living. But in Aemond, either would be the last place I’d find.

Ser Criston swept a steely gaze across the court, his face unreadable. He chewed the inside of his cheeks curiously, the motion ceasing abruptly when his eyes met mine. Cold and dark. I met his stare head-on, until an odd feeling took root in my gut.

Unanswered questions swirled in my mind.

Ser Criston tore his gaze from me, his eyes flitting across the room. Then, with a voice laced with authority, he boomed, “I address this court as Hand to inform you that the King has been grievously wounded in battle!”

A collective gasp ripped through the court. Whispers, like startled birds, rose in a flurry.

Ser Criston continued, a steely edge creeping into his voice, “Rhaenyra the Cruel will believe she won a great victory this day. May believe we will cower and offer her the throne like whipped dogs. But the False Queen is sorely mistaken. For the throne will not remain empty.”

Whispers escalated into a commotion. An unsettling prickle danced across my skin. My mind darted to the dowager Queen Alicent. Surely, in Aegon’s absence, they would elevate her to the throne. But after usurping Rhaenyra, would they truly place another woman in her stead?

My thoughts, apparently, mirrored those of the court, for Alicent’s name drifted around me like a persistent echo.

Ser Criston’s voice rose to a commanding pitch, reverberating through the throne room, “I present to you…” The heavy oak doors of the throne room ground open, drawing every eye in unison.

My breath caught in my throat as a figure materialized at the stairs.

It wasn’t Alicent.

A frame, draped in dark green leather that shimmered with silver accents, emerged from the groaning doors. The Conqueror’s crown, a heavy circle of iron, sat upon their silver head, casting a long shadow across a face half-obscured by an eyepatch.

“Prince Regent, Aemond Targaryen,” Ser Criston declared, his voice thick with forced authority. “Rider of Vhagar.”

Aemond descended the steps.

“Slayer of the queen who never was.”

Aemond’s footsteps, muffled by polished leather boots and the collective murmurs of the courtiers, made a predator’s approach as he stalked toward the Iron Throne. Two King’s Guard flanked him with stoic expressions.

“And Protector of the Realm.”

He ascended the iron steps with a chilling grace, finally settling upon the throne. A hush fell over the court, thick and heavy. Silence stretched as he molded himself into the seat, his lethal hands caressing the equally lethal rests, a small smirk playing on his lips. His voice, a honeyed drawl laced with a hint of steel, echoed in the sudden silence.

“My Lords and Ladies,” he began, the menacing glint in his blue eye accentuated by the play of shadows on his face. “His Grace, the King, has been wounded at the battle of Rook’s Rest, and will be incapable to rule.”

There was a power in his presence, an unspoken threat that left the court speechless. Not a cough, not a rustle of fabric dared to break the silence.

“Therefore,” he continued, his gaze sweeping over the frozen faces, “I, will act as your sovereign.”

Unease prickled at my skin. Something about Aemond’s demeanor, the unnatural sheen on his face, sent a tremor of suspicion through me.

Had this all been a carefully orchestrated play? What truly transpired at Rook’s Rest?

My eyes darted to the ornate dagger resting at his hip, the ancestral blade of Aegon the Conqueror. It was the same dagger I’d last seen clutched in the hand of his brother.

As Aemond spoke on, a knot of apprehension tightened in my gut.

“The tide has turned,” he declared, his voice ringing through the stunned silence. “Rhaenys Targaryen is slain, along with her dragon.” A small smile tugged at his lips, a low hum escaping them. “The largest serving the Pretender’s cause.” He said it like it was a jest. “Rook’s Rest has been claimed, leaving Dragonstone vulnerable.” His fingers tapped across the blades. “This is a victory for us.”

Scattered heads nodded in agreement.

Then, his gaze snapped to me, a rapacious glint in his single blue eye. It seemed to bore into my very soul, stripping away any pretense.

“It’s all going according to plan,” he murmured, his voice a silken threat, and for a moment, an eerie feeling within told me he was addressing me alone. The fire that danced within his eye flickered a touch too bright, and it felt like he could see every thought swirling in my mind, every flicker of doubt, every spark of fear.

It felt like he was about to eat me alive.

A violent terror surged through me, icy fingers gripping my heart. Adrenaline tapped into my veins, a primal urge to flee.

Frantic energy fueled my movements. I shoved dresses, jewelry, all of my belongings, into overflowing wooden trunks. Their straining hinges mocked my desperation. My handmaid, silent but swift, followed my frenzied instructions. I knew then, with a chilling certainty, that I owed her my life after this escape.

Aemond’s chambers, once a familiar haven, felt cold and sterile now, stripped bare of my belongings. Rain lashed against the open windows, mirroring the frantic rhythm of my heart. The journey ahead would be long and treacherous. Circumstances weren’t optimal, but there was no other choice at my disposal.

My husband was a murderer and a kinslayer twice over. And my intuition told me it would soon be thrice. He wasn’t just ruthless; there was an unsettling hollowness behind his actions, a chilling absence of remorse. He was a walking blight, a storm that devoured everything in its path. And I refused to be struck down by its lightning.

The apartment doors shuddered open, shattering me into distraught. My flight instincts flared, but I refused to cower. My hand instinctively shot out, grasping my maid’s hand tightly. We held our breath as a large, porcelain hand reached out and pushed the door wider.

Aemond entered, leaving the door ajar. His gaze, unwavering and cold, locked with mine. “Leave us,” he commanded, his voice a smooth, cold current.

My handmaid curtsied, her grip faltering as she pried my fingers loose. With a hurried glance back, she scurried out, the heavy door slamming shut behind her.

An oppressive silence descended, broken only by the frantic pounding of my heart against my ribs.

Escape seemed impossible; the air thick with a chilling dread.

“You sent for me, wife?” Aemond’s voice, a silken caress laced with steel, echoed in the cavernous chamber. He approached with a predative grace, each deliberate step shrinking the distance between us.

Confusion slammed into me. I hadn’t summoned him. This was, by far, the most he’d spoken to me since our loveless union.

“You are mistaken,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. My feet, traitors that they were, retreated with each of his advances. Then, it dawned on me, that it might have been his intention to put me in a state of dubiety, making me more malleable. A cutthroat, not only lethal, but cunning.

He stopped beside my overflowing trunk, a flicker of amusement playing on his lips.

“Travelling somewhere?” His single blue eye, unnervingly perceptive, held me captive.

Panic clawed at my throat. I clenched my trembling hands into fists, slotting them behind my back, forcing my lips into a gentle smile.

“I wish to visit my family,” I said. “With war looming, I wish for us to be together.”

Aemond took another measured step closer. “Ao issi aerēbas mirriot daor,” (You’re not going anywhere), he murmured, the High Valyrian rolling off his tongue like a sinister threat.

A furrow etched between my brows as I attempted to comprehend his words. My grasp of the ancient tongue was limited, and whether he intended me to understand was a cruel game. Perhaps, it was yet another tool to exert his dominance. But based on his relentless pursuit, I gathered me leaving wasn’t an option he entertained.

“I am of no use to you, Aemond,” I pleaded, maintaining a safe distance. “Me staying serves no purpose.”

“On the contrary,” he purred, his voice dripping with a dark promise. His head tilted covetously, venom flashing in his eye.

“We barely exist to each other,” I continued. “What difference would it make if I was half a world away?”

“It would make all the difference.” The warmth in his voice vanished, replaced by a glacial edge. “There’s the matter of heirs.”

Seven Hells.

Anguish twisted my gut. Intuition, a primal scream, roared to life. Images flashed behind my eyelids – Aemond sitting the throne, and Aegon reduced to ash.

Had this been his plan all along? Was he the reason for the King’s lethal end?

The pieces slammed together in my mind, a horrifying mosaic.

I gasped, my back hitting the cold stone wall. Aemond’s ambition stretched far beyond my naïve expectations. Loyalty to his house, to his brother, had been a carefully constructed facade. Beneath it, he schemed, a shrewd predator stalking his ultimate prize. The crown.

And the crown needed heirs.

He towered over me, his presence overwhelming. He was much taller than I recalled, every inch radiating a rapacious tension. A hand braced itself against the wall, inches from my head.

“What have you done?” My thoughts materialized into shaky words, laced with an enmity that surprised even me. My gaze raked over him, revulsion twisting my features. The green leather seemed to pulse, an illusion fueled by my churning stomach.

A flicker, a hint of something akin to uncertainty, crossed his single eye. It darted across my face, as if truly seeing me for the first time. Perhaps he was. In this desperate flight, we’d never been closer. Close enough to be enveloped by his scent, a foreign musk that did little to quell my churning nausea.

“Skoros iksin bēvilagon.” (What was necessary)

I frowned again, aggravated that he took to High Valyrian as an attempt to shut me out of his thoughts. My jaw clenched, frustration a bitter taste on my tongue.

Malevolence rose like a flood as I leaned forward, so close that our noses nearly touched, “I would not have your child in a million years, kinslayer,” I spat, my voice trembling with contained fury. I lunged forward, aiming to push past him, to escape his suffocating presence. But his other hand shot out, slamming against the wall beside me, effectively caging me in.

A venomous glint flickered in his eye as he narrowed it at me through his lashes. A twitch played on his lips, a cat batting at a cornered mouse. “Be that as it may,” he said mellowly. “But even a bad wife must obey her king.”

A scoff escaped my lips, my eyes sizing him up and down. “You are no king,” I hissed, defiance lacing my voice. “You are not even a man.”

His reaction was swift and brutal.

One hand shot out and grabbed my face, forcing my head against the cold stone. Pain erupted at the impact, but quickly subsided as he leaned in, his hot breath fanning against my lips.

“Speak such treason again, and I’ll show you what I really am.”

“What will you do?” I spat back, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and insurgence. “Cripple me, like you did your brother? Force yourself on me?”

“Don’t tempt me,” he growled, his voice simmering with barely contained violence.

A tense silence ensued, the air crackling with his restrained fury.

My suspicions, already simmering, solidified into a horrifying certainty. He’d orchestrated his brother’s downfall on purpose.

“Have you no honor?” I whispered, the words a ragged plea.

The silence stretched, broken only by our ragged breaths. His hold on my face loosened gradually, his hand falling away. But his gaze remained fixed on me, a storm brewing within its depths.

“You cannot stop me, Aemond,” I said, my voice shrinking. “I will leave this place, one way or another. You can play king in my absence, but it will be a hollow crown.”

“Kesan arghugon ao naejot se mōris hen tegon.” (I will hunt you to the end of the earth)

“Speak plainly,” I snapped, my patience with his cryptic pronouncements wearing thin.

A chilling smile, devoid of warmth, stretched across his lips. He pushed himself away from the wall, backing away, creating my long-desired distance between us.

“You may go,” he drawled, the amusement in his voice laced with a dangerous edge, that sardonic smile still plastered on his lips.

Acrimony filled my gut. What little I knew of this man, I feared greatly, but also told me this was a trick. He wouldn’t relinquish control so easily. He’d allow me to make my “escape”, only to have me snatched back by the King’s Guard, now under his control, a public display of his authority. There was no true freedom with him.

Maegor’s tunnels, a potential escape route, loomed tantalizingly behind me. If only I were alone, a simple push against the wall would send me tumbling into its dark embrace. But escape without a plan or supplies was a fool’s errand.

My mind spun, each possibility twisting the knife of despair deeper. Even if I reached my family, what awaited me there? Shame would be their welcome. Aemond, no doubt, would make sure of it.

The rain continued its relentless assault on the outside world, punctuated by the booming symphony of thunder. A flash of lightning illuminated the apartments, casting Aemond in a grotesque, menacing silhouette.

Exhaustion overwhelmed me. I slumped to the floor, seeking solace in the meager comfort of my arms wrapped around my knees. Here I was, a prisoner in this gilded cage, condemned to bear the children of a traitor until flames consumed us all.

Aemond crouched before me, his wrists resting on his knees. He regarded me with an intensity that bordered on scientific curiosity. A flicker of something, perhaps disappointment, played at his edges.

“I’d take you for many things, wife,” he cooed, the endearment dripping with veiled malice. “But weak was not one of them.” His words landed like a body blow. “If I’d known you’d crumble so easily, I would never have wed you in the first place.”

I sniffed and looked up at him, exhaustion a heavy cloak on my lids. “You did not have much of a say in the matter,” I countered.

A wicked smile twisted his lips and his head tilted to the side. “No,” he said softly. A sudden chill iced his demeanor. “And neither do you.”

He rose to his feet with predacious grace, leaving me pleated on the floor. He sauntered to his chair and seated himself, one leg propped up on his knee, his leather splaying atop the arm rests.

I watched him. His face was turned to the violent storm outside, immersed in contemplation, lightning whipping across his features. A vision of menace. A weapon poised to strike.

“So, what is your scheme, Aemond?” I started; my voice hoarse. His head turned slowly, his gaze locking onto mine with the piercing intensity of Valyrian steel. “Do you envision a period of mourning for the King, followed by a convenient acclamation in your favor? Or will you hurry along the succession and carry out the deed yourself before anyone suspects?”

A single corner of his mouth quirked into a cruel smile. “Suppose I have not yet decided.” His voice was like liquid.

Defiance flickered within me. “The court will never agree to this once they find out what you’ve done.”

Aemond hummed, a deep sound in the bottom of his chest. “Dragons don’t concern themselves with the opinions of sheep.” He leaned forward, resting his arms across his knees. “I am next in line to the throne,” he drawled. “None is better suited than I.”

I staggered to my feet and went to sit beside him. “With a legitimate heir,” I said carefully. “Your claim would be uncontested.”

He smirked, as though I’d read his mind. He leaned back, his eyes gleaming with dangerous delight.

“A woman’s pleasure is,” he began, a slow, suggestive smile playing on his lips. His blue eye drifted down my form in a way that made my skin crawl. “Of as much importance as the seed itself.”

A hot flush crept up my cheeks at his implication.

“Which is why submission must be a willing act,” he finished, his voice dropping to a husky murmur.

I swallowed, provocation crackling through me. Did he truly believe I would succumb to his advances? He seemed to think he could manipulate anyone to his will, whether through seduction or brutality, though I had yet to see the former.

“And if I refuse?” I challenged, my voice surprisingly steady despite the tremor in my hands.

A low growl vibrated in his chest, his face soft. “Then you’ll find yourself counted amongst the sheep,” he drawled.

Deflating, I sighed and dipped my head. The only path forward seemed excruciatingly clear. Raising my eyes to meet his, I lifted an eyebrow in rebellion.

“Consider me sheep then.” With that, I rose from the settee and strode towards the apartment doors, the cold of the metal handle stealing the warmth from my fingers as I heaved it open.

It shut then, with a loud thud, and I jumped, a sudden heat radiating behind me. Aemond’s fingers splayed on the oak door above my head. My pulse drummed in my ears, Aemond’s lips grazing my lobe, urging it to pick up the pace.

“Jaelā naejot mazverdagon nyke jorarghutan ao, ābrazȳrys?” (You want to make me chase you, wife?) His voice rumbled into me, a low growl as potent as the thunderstorm.

The rolling, guttural words sent a strange warmth through my core. His air consumed me. A rich mixture of smoke, leather, and dragon, infiltrated my senses, intoxicating and unsettling in equal measure.

“I can’t understand you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. I felt him smiling against my ear, a low chuckle reverberating into it, sending goosebumps erupting across my skin.

“You won't need to,” he said softly. His hand drifted away from the door and closed around my throat, surprisingly gentle, yet the warmth of his fingers felt like embers branding my skin. They snaked around the back of my neck, the pressure tightening as he turned me to face him. His single eye, a bottomless well of intricacy, held mine captive.

My gaze flickered down to his lips. They were curved into a wicked grin.

His scent became a suffocating presence. The heat radiating from his body, fervid as a dragon, made sweat bead on my forehead. My entire being screamed I was at his mercy. He could crush my life out with a mere squeeze, or worse, with his single eye, he could strip me bare without ever laying a hand on me.

But a strange fire flickered within me, a rebellion against his dominion. My hands, fueled by a desperate need for control, reached out and began loosening his doublet, my fingers slow and deliberate.

Aemond stilled, his eye falling to my movements. He watched, transfixed, as I unfastened the green leather halfway down his chest, then trailed my fingers lower. His gaze darkened and his breath grew uneven, as the bulge beneath his belt pressed against my touch.

A visceral desire flared within me, a response I couldn’t fully comprehend. My pulse hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, slowly drifting between my thighs at the sight of his desire.

His grip softened at my nape, and with a surge of defiance, I ripped myself free from his hold, and landed a heavy blow to his stomach. But a wave of terror washed over me when Aemond barely flinched.

Panic clawed at my throat.

Taking advantage of his momentary surprise, I flung open the chamber doors and fled, the sound of my pounding heart echoing in my ears.

AEMOND

The aftershock of her blow lingered, a dull ache radiating from my gut, while I allowed her to make her escape. Fury, a familiar companion, usually surged through me, promising retribution, suggesting to make her death appear an accident. This time, however, a different heat consumed me, a mix of surprise and… arousal.

Rarely did I misjudge a person. Yet, the meek mouse I’d wed had transformed into a daring she-wolf before my very eyes. This escape attempt, fueled by defiance, was a revelation. It made my dick hard.

A rapacious glint flickered in my eye. A grudging respect, laced with something far more primal, coiled in my gut. I had underestimated her, and the unexpected turn of events had ignited a spark within me.

A smirk twisted my lips, and I hummed with satisfaction, the thrill of the hunt coursing through me.

“Jaelā naejot tymagon?” (You want to play?) I murmured, the challenge laced with amusement. “Kesi tymagon.” (Let’s play.)

I started into the storm-ridden castle.

YOU

Immediate regret shot through me with a pang, a cold fist squeezing my breath.

To toy with a dragon was like asking to get burned.

My lungs screamed in protest, my legs burning with each step down the Red Keep’s slick stone steps. Blood, metallic and sharp, left traces in my mouth as I hoisted my cumbersome gown to avoid tripping. The castle shuddered from the storm, which groaned and wailed its onslaught. Guards stood stoic at their posts, their expressions unreadable underneath silver helms. Appealing to them was a fool’s errand.

None dared defy the one-eyed prince.

Driven by blind instinct, I found myself pushing through the massive doors of the throne room.

The Iron Throne, a monstrous silhouette of twisted blades, dominated the chamber, its edges flashing white-hot under the lightning’s fury. I stumbled towards it, chest heaving, gasping for air.

If it truly was cursed, could touching it offer some strange absolution, a release from the gilded cage that was my life? Surely, it couldn’t be worse than the fate that awaited me back in his clutches.

Ascension. My trembling legs carried me up the steps, each one a monumental effort. Reaching the top, I lingered to sit, an action so simple, yet it loomed so immensely in my mind.

“Waiting to make your peace with the gods?” came a voice, and I turned with a gasp.

Aemond stood in the middle of the room, arms slotted behind his back, approaching with slow, menacing steps, like a predator savoring the hunt. Thunder boomed overhead.

“No,” I countered, spite flaring hot in my chest. “Waiting for you to catch up so I can meet them myself,” I said, descending the steps.

“Once more, so quick to admit defeat,” he taunted, venom dripping from his words like the rain outside.

I studied his sharp features, while the burden of my reality settled like a weight in my chest. “There is no escaping you,” I gritted out, holding his heavy gaze.

His violence loomed heavy, and depravity flickered in his gaze. “Your perception waxes,” he conceded, and suddenly, the world tilted on its axis as he scooped me up and tossed me effortlessly over his broad shoulder.

The journey back to his chambers was a furious ballet of resistance. My limbs flailed wildly, desperate for purchase, and obscenities, laced with an untenable fear, ripped from my throat.

A sharp slap landed on my behind, eliciting a yelp of surprised pain.

“The more you struggle,” he growled, the sound a low rumble in his chest, “the worse it will be.”

A part of me recognized the truth in his words, yet a bestial defiance warred within, refusing to yield. Fueled by a surge of adrenaline, I lunged for his silver hair, grabbing a fistful and yanking with all my might.

He hissed through his teeth, followed by a guttural sound echoing deep within him. “Ilībōños,” (Bitch/Bastard) he cursed.

The apartment door slammed shut behind us as he entered, his movements purposeful. With a rough toss, I landed unceremoniously on the bed, the air whooshing out of my lungs on impact. Fury, a searing inferno, consumed me, each cell screaming in protest, my claws unsheathing. I wanted to hurt him.

Anything within reach became a potential weapon. Pillows, a discarded jeweled comb – I hurled them all at him, each item a silent scream of rebellion. But his movements were swift, each projectile dodged with practiced ease.

Frustration mounted, morphing into a desperate rage. I lunged at him, a clumsy attempt to push him back. But he remained immovable, an unyielding mountain. Undeterred, I pushed again, and again, fueled by a futile contempt.

Finally, as I drew back for another pointless shove, his hands shot out, lightning fast, pinning my arms to my sides. He moved swiftly, his body caging mine in a steely embrace.

“Lykirī,” he hummed, the word a low thrum against my ear.

“Fuck you,” I spat, my chest heaving from my ambush.

Did he mistake me for his winged beast that he could command to his will?

My attempt to wiggle out of his hold was a pointless endeavour. Rage crackled in my veins, but it flickered under his touch. My breath hitched as he leaned closer, the heat of his body searing through my gown. The scent of him, smoke and leather, filled my senses. And the undeniable press of his erection against my stomach sent a jolt through me.

This perverted man was enjoying my defiance. His grip tightened, a teasing hold that both frustrated and excited me. My body, traitor that it was, started to soften against him, a spark igniting beneath the embers of anger.

“Have you had your fill of my company?” he whispered, his voice husky against my ear. His hands trailed down my arms, sending shivers skittering across my skin.

Every rational part of me screamed to break free, to run for the tunnels, to fight back. But the intoxication of his touch, the heat radiating from him, the suggestive murmur against my ear – they all conspired to trap me.

Before I could think, my head slowly turned from one side to the other.

He hummed deeply. “Say it.”

Frustration warred with a strange vulnerability within me. My cheeks burned, and I clenched my jaw hard enough to taste blood.

“I haven't.”

“You haven't what?”

Fury flickered back to life, fueled by his smug grin and the realization of how easily he’d manipulated me.

“I haven't had enough,” I gritted out, the words a reluctant surrender.

A growl of satisfaction escaped him before he grasped me by my throat, pushed me back against the wall, and tasted my next breath on his tongue.

His lips, hot and demanding, devoured mine like a beggar, silencing the gasp that threatened to escape. Heat, a wildfire erupting at the junction of our bodies threatened to consume me. Fury, a simmering ember, still flickered within. I shoved against his chest and stomped on his feet; futile attempts against his unyielding form.

“Gaomagon vīlībagon nyke daor,” (Do not fight me) he said roughly against my lips, nipping at the bottom one. “Kesā botagon daor.” (You would not survive)

I didn’t understand him, and it urged on my fury. I opened my mouth with a quip in mind, but he used that opportunity to slide his tongue inside, hot and wet. The anger threatened to drown the blossoming desire, creating a tempestuous war within. I panted, torn between resistance and a strange, unfamiliar need, a fever writhing and pulsing inside my veins. My hands clenched in the rough leather of his doublet, a desperate attempt to maintain some sort of control.

I closed my teeth on his bottom lip, and he hissed sharply, encircling my throat with his hand, pushing me against the stone.

“Kelītīs,” (Stop) he growled.

The question of whether he even realized he was speaking High Valyrian was a fleeting thought. I melted into his rough hold, to his wicked mouth crashing against mine again and again, getting lost in the hot glide of his tongue. His rough kisses, the frantic press of his body, all contrived to unravel my carefully constructed defenses. A soft moan escaped my lips as my nipples brushed against his chest, sending sparks lower. He groaned low in his throat, sucking my bottom lip between his teeth.

With practiced ease, he untied the strings of my dress, letting the fabric pool around my ankles. I stood there in only my kirtle, breathless under his heated gaze. A dark groan rumbled from his chest as he slipped his hands beneath my thighs, effortlessly lifting me. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. His grip tightened on my bare flesh, a touch too rough, and I retaliated with another yank on his silver hair. An angry sound erupted in his throat as he attempted to shake off my grip.

He carried us to the bed, the world tilting on its axis as he settled me on top of him. Our mouths met in a frantic clash, a tangle of tongues and heated breaths. We tore away from each other briefly, just long enough for him to pull my kirtle over my head.

Naked and exposed, I felt a shiver dance across my skin under the intensity of his gaze. Something dark moved through his eye, and my skin prickled with goosebumps.

He gripped the swell of my hips, his palms sliding upward, a slow exploration that sent sparks igniting in my blood. The fight drained from me, replaced by a heavy languor. His fingers, surprisingly gentle for a cold-blooded killer, traced patterns across my skin, before cupping my breasts into a rough grip. A soft moan escaped my lips as his thumb brushed a nipple, and pleasure rushed to my core. He leaned in and closed his mouth over a peak, drawing it in with a slow, gentle suck. My head fell back, a groan escaping my throat. My hands filtered into his thick silver, my fingers impulsively easing off the leather tie that kept it out of his face, and it went cascading around his features like spills of moonlight.

Awe mingled with desire as I watched him continue to explore my body, his mouth leaving a trail of wet heat across my skin. I cupped his sharp face in my hands, the rational, caged side of me screaming to tear him off me. I made weak, pitiful attempts to do so, but Aemond growled his disapproval and sucked my nipple hard. The wet heat of his mouth tugged between my legs as he moved to the other, flames curling low in my stomach. I ground down on him, my wet entrance dampening the dark leather of his breeches, the friction sending a delicious heat through my core. A moan ripped from his lips.

I was on fire, a confusing mix of desire and desperation clawing at me. I needed something more, something to push me over the edge. My body moved of its own accord, grinding harder, seeking that elusive release.

He released my nipple with a graze of teeth that sent a jolt of white heat through me, and looked up at me with his eye dark like the storm.

“Skoros gaomagon jaelā?” (What do you crave?), he rumbled.

Exhaustion gnawed at me, but a visceral need pulsed deep within. “Please,” I pleaded, the word a ragged whisper escaping my lips, the frustration of the language barrier a dull ache compared to the firestorm raging in my core. “More,” I begged, grinding against his erection with desperate mewlings.

When his hand lowered to palm my pussy, my skin caught on fire, burning me from scalp to toes. Desire inflated in my throat when he ran his hand up my neck, into my hair, grabbing a fistful and using it to arch my head back, his touch both possessive and arousing.

“Is this what you desire?” he rasped against my throat, his voice husky with restrained passion. His calloused thumb began drawing circles on my clit, a slow, deliberate exploration that sent frustration battling with a rising tide of pleasure.

I nodded desperately. “Yes,” I gasped.

He slipped two fingers into my wetness, and I arched my back, groaning in pleasure and a little pain, his fingers filling me up to the brim. My hands found purchase in his hair, anchoring myself as he moved his digits, flames of pleasure licking at my walls.

Ecstasy unfurled in my veins like milk of the poppy, mind-numbing, delirious, as he slid his thick fingers in and out of me, rubbing a sensitive spot deep within. Hot pressure expanded, and my eyes rolled back in my head. A throaty moan escaped my lips with every thrust of his fingers and a delicious rumble rolled in his chest.

His grip around my hair suddenly vanished and his thumb began rubbing circles on my clit as he fingered me. I cried out, the intensity overwhelming, and I braced myself on his leather-covered shoulders, a cold sweat starting beneath my skin.

“Sholīze,” (You’re so wet), he groaned against my skin, the word a brand that sent shivers lancing through me, the heat beneath the surface threatening to erupt. I rolled my hips on his fingers, and a satisfied growl escaped his mouth, his eye dropping to witness me riding his hand as my pleasure ran down his wrist, my leg and onto his lap.

“Shkelagon zhēdys,” (You’re making a mess), he whispered into my mouth, swallowing my desperate cries.

A third finger, bold and intrusive, slid inside, the added pressure sending me over the edge. My vision swam, black dots exploding at the edges. My heart pounded to the fire searing through every nerve in my body. Throaty moans tore from my lips over and over, as I clenched around his moving fingers. He groaned with dark satisfaction, encircling my waist, pressing me against him as I rode out my orgasm.

The storm within me subsided slowly. His fingers, once urgent, now moved slowly in and out of me while I caught my breath and the ringing in my ears faded. He didn’t withdraw until he’d coaxed out the very last tremor of pleasure from my body.

A languorous warmth, a deep sense of satiation unlike anything I’d ever known, bloomed within me.

Lost in the afterglow, I trailed kisses up his neck, small noises of contentment escaping my lips.

“Gevie,” he panted, slipping his fingers out of me.

I knew that word.

Beautiful.

AEMOND

I never thought the act of making an heir would be this… riveting.

So much pure heat, flame and pleasure, fueled not just by my own desire, but by the sight of her pleasure burgeoning under my touch. It was a new prospect entirely. I could have reached my own release simply from witnessing hers.

But this was not going to make an heir, after all.

She ran her fingers over my erection, her lips and teeth teasing a line down my neck as she came down from her high. My hand, forearm and lap were slick from her sweet desire.

She settled back into my lap, a vision of post-orgasmic bliss. Her eyes, usually bright and defiant, were now hooded with languid satisfaction, her cheeks flushed a becoming crimson. Her lips, slightly parted, breathed shallowly. I pushed my thumb between them, and she met the intrusion with a beckoning glide of her tongue, the wet heat settling in my groin. I pulled my thumb free, wiping the evidence of her touch across her lips.

This woman, this force of nature, was mine. My wife.

Lightning played across her features like she was its master. Like she embodied the raw power of the storm.

Untamed, fierce, fuckable.

She was molded just for me.

Her fingers, tracing a familiar path down my doublet, encountered the bulge straining against the fabric, my dick throbbing at her faintest touch.

“Take it off,” she said, working on the buckle. I reached my hands up my neck, loosening the doublet from my frame.

“Do not attempt any strikes this time,” I drawled, a playful challenge in my voice. I relished the smile that spread across her lips.

“You have my word,” she said softly.

The leather of my arms whispered down, discarded on the floor like a shed skin. Her eyes ignited with raw desire, a flickering flame that mirrored the inferno that had been building within me. Her fingers, hesitant at first, traced a path down my chest, my abs, further, until her hand slipped beneath my breeches and over the length of my dick.

I hissed through my teeth. The heat, a branding iron searing flesh, intensified as her hand, unsure but determined, wrapped around my erection, heat curling at the base of my spine. Her hesitant touch grew more confident as she stroked me from base to head with smooth, gentle motions, sending a low groan rumbling from my chest.

I grabbed her face and grazed her chin with my teeth, making her stroke me harder. “I’ll fill you with my seed, wife,” I growled, the words rough against her skin. A promise, a threat, a declaration of possession – all rolled into one.

Her sigh held a hint of resignation, contrasting the fire in her eyes. “As long as you’ll leave me alone once you’re done,” she mumbled, the words laced with quiet defiance.

Fury, a red-hot ember, flared within me.

I threw her down on her knees on the bed and yanked her head back by her hair until her head rested against my shoulder. The vulnerability in her exposed throat fueled a dark avarice within me. My erection pressed against the heat of her ass, restraint becoming an impossible enemy.

“You’re bound to me now,” I growled in her ear, the words a possessive vow. “You’re not going anywhere.”

A ghost of a smile played on her lips, a silent challenge that both frustrated and excited me. I leaned in, whispering a single word against her ear, “Ñuhon.” (Mine) I nipped her earlobe, making her hiss.

When I released her, she sagged forward, head hanging low. Her shoulders slumped, and she lowered herself onto her hands, the curve of her backside a sight that ignited a fresh wave of heat within me.

I discarded my breeches, the urgency a physical ache in my core. Kneeling behind her, I pushed two fingers inside of her. She clenched down on me so tightly. I groaned and pulled my fingers free. As I rubbed the head of my cock against her wet opening, the heat of it almost burned me. A tremble coasted throat her, and her fingers gripped the sheets, bracing herself.

I eased into her, and, gods spare me, she was so fucking tense, to the point she nearly resisted me entirely. I caressed her ass, her hips, running my hand up and down her back, attempting to relax her, uttering words I scarcely knew were the Common Tongue or High Valyrian.

“Vīrȳn (take it), you’re so fucking wet, gūrogon mirre yno (take all of me).”

Until her walls softened and I watched myself slide into her, until I was as deep as I could go.

Seven Hells.

The feeling was overwhelming. The way she clutched me like a wet fist. Every cell in me ached for more, to fuck her hard, relentlessly, but I gave her a moment to adjust, squeezing her, running my hands all over her.

Soon, she was rocking back against me, and I gave her what she wanted, pulling out all the way before slowly pushing back in, every inch of me vanishing. She groaned and dropped her face to the bed, fisting the sheets in her hands. I gripped the swell of her hips, guiding her warm, wet pussy onto my throbbing dick over and over, watching their salacious union, my sight darkening at the squelching sounds that ensued. A deep hum erupted from my chest.

She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes hooded with lust, settling on each lazy thrust.

“Iksis ao bisa ijiōrtan?” (Is this pleasing you?) I rasped, but before she could answer, I fucked her a little harder. It occurred to me that she probably could not have understood what I’d been saying half the time.

Her head fell forward, and the sight of her biting down on her hand to quiet her moans sent a heady rush to my head, lighting me on fire.

Thunder rolled overhead.

I was completely lost in the heat of her, taking her hard, watching her ass bounce against me with every thrust. I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back against my chest.

She was panting, fucked into soft compliancy.

“To whom do you belong?” I growled in her ear.

She didn’t resist any of my advances this time. “You,” she breathed.

“Say my name.”

“Aemond.”

“And who is your King?”

“Aemond.”

My grip snaked and tightened around her neck as I fucked her.

“Say it.”

“You’re the King, Your Grace,” she whined. “The first of your name.”

It set me on fire.

I pushed her back down and fucked her through her second orgasm, holding her hips up when her legs gave out. She shuddered and clenched around me, the pressure sending licking fires down my back, threatening to erupt. I gritted my teeth as I came inside of her, a white, hot fire shooting through me so hard, my vision went black.

My muscles shook from the aftershock.

I doubled over her, letting my forehead rest on her back as we came down.

When I pulled out of her, I watched my seed leak out of her entrance like white tears. I plugged it with my fingers, burrowing deep inside of her, and she gasped.

“Dragonseed is precious,” I rumbled into her ear. “Would not want it to go to waste.” I kissed her temple.

“Tepagon aōha dārys iā dārilaros, dōna ābrazȳrys.” (Give your king an heir, sweet wife)

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dolicekiss · 11 months ago

Text

From Friend To Foe

PAIRING: Dark!Aemond Targaryen X Strong!fem!Reader

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni), noncon, virgin!reader, possessive aemond, friends to enemies, childhood friends, reader is from house strong, dragon riding (also riding Aemond), unprotected sex (p in v), forced kissing, breeding, angst, threats, humiliation, reader has dark hair, hair pulling, slapping, cunnilingus, mention of forced marriage, attempted murder.

SYNOPSIS: Aemond and you were childhood friends, you being the daughter of a lord and him being the Targayen prince. When the Greens and Blacks went against each other, your father’s sworn fealty to the blacks became an obstacle in your friendship and when your father was defeated, army overthrown — you were taken prisoner, kneeled before the Targaryen prince who was once your closest friend.

Swords clashed, dragon roared and knights fell after fighting bravely.

All you could do was sit idle in your room and await the promise of a better future. Only it did not come and when silence haunted the grounds of Harrenhal and everything came to a halt, you were certain your family had lost the fight.

You were mere humans, with no possession of such an almighty being.

Dragons were Gods. To be worshiped and prayed — and one was prominently flying over the remains of Harrenhal.

Belonging to none other than Aemond Targaryen, who was once your beloved friend with whom you dreamt of riding on a dragon.

Aemond had promised you when you were younglings. A promise that once he has claimed himself a dragon, you would be the first person he'd take for a flight.

The irony of the situation broke your heart.

The same dragon had left your castle and people in ruins — Vhagar’s loud wails filling up the sky with terror. You knew very well that now your army had fallen, your father definitely slain, you were going to face the same fate as many women during war did.

A prisoner, meat for Aemond’s men.

The door was slammed open and you turned around in a swift motion, finding your servant standing there. A look of horror adorning her once serene features. “It is done. The Targaryen prince has won and we are the only ones left.”

Tears blurred your vision. You did not remember reaching for the sharp blade which you had placed on your side table, an escape from all the atrocities you would eventually be forced to face by the hands of your own closest friend.

War was war.

And with the stories of Aemond’s cruelty circulating about, you knew very well than to beg for mercy or even expect it. Long gone was the sweet prince who made you promises of protection, a dragon and long lasting friendship.

He was your foe now.

An enemy who had slayed the men of your house, your own blood.

As you attempted to cut your own throat, a hand prevented you from doing so. Guards, of house Targaryen. Your face paled and your tears finally rushed down your face in glossy streaks, your one chance of escape taken from you.

The men restrained you but you screamed, struggled even. To break free and somehow draw the blade closer to your throat, only a small cut and you would disappear. You did not care if this was considered weak, you were willing to do just about anything to keep your dignity and honor.

To not be some slave for a man to put his cock in.

“Stay still, woman!” One of the guards berated you but you didn't listen, worming in their grasp.

“Let me go! Release me, right now.” Your screams echoed in the expanse of your chamber as well as the castle and Aemond heard them too.

He had ordered the demise of everyone, everyone besides you. There was this ache, this need to lay his eye upon you for the first time in awhile. Last time he saw you when you were nine, a beautiful little girl who often came to the red keep with her father — member of the council.

Aemond and your friendship flourished when you defended him against Aegon, comforting him to not lose all hope for a dragon. It was you who encouraged him, who provided him with the mental strength to claim Vhagar.

Your words of strength lingered in the back of his mind when he took claim of the largest dragon.

And now he had caused destruction with the same dragon.

Fate had brought you both to this. Ruined every good thing which was left in his life and he knew that you would never, ever forgive him for destroying your home.

You were kind, loving, sweet. Rebellious too but always stood your ground and believed in achieving justice, by any means. Aemond wondered how you'd grown, how you appeared as an adult now.

Did you braid your dark hair the same way as his Targaryen sister did, since you'd grown so fond of their silver hair? Were your eyes still the same onyx dark as your hair, a stark contrast to his own purple ones and was your choice in clothes still so dreadful? Curiosity pinched at his abdomen.

Your screams boomed through Harrenhal and Aemond felt proud of your resistance, only he had no knowledge of what you were resisting for so prominently.

He had no idea all your desperation and fight was to end your life.

The guards pulled you apart, their blood stained hands managing to rip off the side of your dress which concealed your shoulder during all the commotion to get you to release the blade. You somehow managed to free yourself from one of the guard’s unbearable grip and slashed his face with the blade.

“Ah, you fucking bitch.” He screamed, holding his face with one hand while the other tried to reach for you.

Another guard extracted his revenge, striking you across your face and tugging at the already torn fabric, exposing more of your back.

Your face contorted in pain, wishing to rid yourself off this world. “Don't fucking touch me. Unhand me and I will slaughter you lot like pigs.”

Your threats were larger than your size and some guards found you amusing while some knew you were capable of what you had promised them. A hand reached for your wrist, to tame it but not being able to pry open your clingy fingers around the dagger with all their strength.

Your fingers had paled, losing all their pink hue and the blood had stopped pumping through the small veins. That was how strong your grip around the weapon was.

Being carried down the stairs, your gaze took in the sight of the place that was once your home. Broken and hopeless, you were dragged along to the main hall. Rain pattered over the stones, causing a nauseating feeling in your stomach as you took in the situation of your castle.

Thankfully, your blurry vision did not allow you to take more of the destruction. All you noticed was the daunting figure of your enemy, standing pridefully at the center of the hall, awaiting your arrival.

You were pushed towards someone, forced on your knees and the silky silver strands gave away at the person's identity. Prince Aemond Targaryen stood before you, with his back turned to you and hands clasped behind his back.

You attempted to gather the pieces of your torn dress, holding it over your chest since it was ripped evidently in the back. Aemond upon turning around, did not expect you to be in such ruins. Dress torn apart, dark hair all but a mess and he caught glimpse of the silver rings encircled around your strands.

Now in a complete frenzy.

The same silver you always wore in your hair, around your little braids.

Aemond glanced up at his guards and then back at you, watching you. Demeanor phlegmatic, lips sitting tediously on his face.

You didn't dare to lift up your eyes. It wasn't about possessing enough courage to look him in the eye but having no self control. You knew deep down if you looked at him, you'd lose all control and attack him.

“I don't recall ordering you lot to bring her in such a..” Aemond tilted his head, analyzing the state you were in. “disheveled state.”

“She fought back a lot, my Prince. Intended to cut her throat with that little blade of hers in her hand.” Aemond was slightly taken aback from the revelation but you were right to choose that as an option. Everyone in this room knew what happened to women during war, especially the beautiful ones such as yourself.

The highborns were craved more as they carried noble blood within them.

His one eye fell upon the blade you still held with great vigor in your hand and Aemond nearly snickered. You had not let go of that adamant personality of yours, carrying it with you in adulthood.

Aemond did not like how your beautiful skin was exposed to the lecherous eyes of his guards. This abrupt jealousy even left him bemused for a moment, nonetheless he diverted his attention back to you.

He stepped closer — frame towering over yours and you saw the perfect moment to attack him. A feeble and thoughtless action but it was either succumbing to horrors or extracting revenge. In a fraction of mere seconds, you had risen up from your knees and headed for him with the pointy end of the dagger in his direction.

The guards reached for you and before you could possibly injure the Prince regent, his fingers enveloped your wrist. With potent strength and fast reflexes, Aemond held you in place. A mischievous glint flashed in his one good eye, lips curving up in a malicious smirk.

He saw the raw hatred and hunger for revenge in your eyes — your hand unwavering and stable. You meant the attack. Nowhere was it under the sad emotions of losing your family.

“Bold of you to assume this would work on me, Dōna.” Aemond whispered, face only a few inches apart from yours. Only the dagger separating you. You acknowledged the name he'd called you, from when you were children and the anger inside you was fuelled more. (Sweet)

“Have I not trained in front of you, hm? Did you not see me wield a sword whenever you stayed in the red keep?”

You glared at him. “I will kill you, either with poison or with a dagger. It is my promise to you, tyrant.”

“From raqiros to tyrant? You truly have grown, my Dōna.” He whispered malevolently, his warm breath with its own mind caressing the bridge of your nose, nearly with affectionate. (Friend)

Having spent most of your childhood in the red keep with the targaryens, especially Aemond, he was bound to teach you some high valyrian. You knew what raqiros meant, but he had never unveiled the meaning behind the nickname he gave you. Promising you he would once you two are grown enough.

Aemond looked up from your face to his men who stood on guard. Three of them, big and broad. His eyes raked over their hands and as he imagined those same hands mishandling you, ripping away at your clothes and prying open the corset which held your dress together, his jaw clenched.

“Ser Criston Cole,” he called out and the commander responded, head held high.

Aemond’s hand still prevented you from moving an inch, the pointy end of the dagger only a few inches away from his glistening, pale cheek.

“Behead them.” It was a simple command but it instilled fear in everyone in the room, including you. Even the commander was surprised by such a gruesome order and dared to ask. “Forgive me, my Prince but why?”

Aemond locked gaze with you. “They dared to lay hands on my prize, unveiled her dignity.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as the Commander nodded, passing the order to his other guards. You heard the sounds of constant struggle, similar to yours as their pleas to live fell upon deaf ears.

“My Prince, please! Spare us, we were only acting upon your order!”

They were ignored, as Aemond continued to stare at you. His purple eye dropping to your lips for a second. He released you and you, on instinct, stepped back with the dagger still in your hand. It was proven that combat was definitely not how you could take down the prince.

Aemond had forced you to come along to the premises of Harrenhal, where his dragon rested. Strained and tired from the war she had indulged in. You had never seen Vhagar up close but knew that she was the second largest dragon, her first rider being Visenya Targaryen.

Your lips shuddered the more closer you were pulled next to the sleeping dragon.

“She can smell fear.” Aemond reminded you, staring ahead. “Conceal it unless you wish to burn to ashes.”

You inhaled a deep breath, closing your eyes and hoping to put an end to the growing fear in the presence of Vhagar.

When you opened your eyes, you were more calm now and in the right state of mind to admire the beast’s beauty. She was gorgeous, a shade of bronze mixed with green and blue highlights. Green, fierce eyes staring ahead and you would have congratulated Aemond on claiming a dragon if only the circumstances were different.

“You will ride with me to King’s Landing.”

“I will not.” You spat, taking a step back from him. That didn't seem to please Aemond as he closed the distance between you and grasped your arm, holding you in place. “Yes, you will.”

“I would rather be fed to your hounds than ride with you upon the back of the dragon which destroyed my home.” Your tone was venomous, full of anger and spite. Aemond knew there was no way calming you down or ridding you of your anger, so he did the next best thing that came to mind.

His slim hands slithered across your waist as he picked you up, settling you down on the dragon’s back. Vhagar released a roar and Aemond whispered something to her in high valyrian, causing her to calm down. Her head settling down, to rest.

He moved in front of you, taking a seat as well. “Hold on tight.”

You glued your hands to your sides, completely ignoring him. Aemond released a frustrated growl at your adamant behavior and lack of pliancy. He reached behind to grab your arms with his gloved hands, forcefully circling them around his small waist.

“Let go of me.” You struggled and Aemond looked back at you with irritation all over his beautiful face. “Do you wish to succumb to your death by falling? If so, feel free to let go.”

That was a lie as Aemond had already tied you to him with the brown belt — locking you with him. Even if you were to let go of him, his body weight restricted on his dragon would prevent you from falling and eventually meeting your demise. This was merely to get you to touch him.

To feel you against him, with little to no distance.

Your lips settled in a frown as you tightened your hold around him causing Aemond to grin. He patted his dragon’s back and then spoke. “Sōvēs, Vhagar.” (Fly)

The dragon shifted on its legs, preparing for the flight and you gasped when you felt it move more beneath you. Subconsciously, your fingers gripped the leather tunic of Aemond, chest pressing tightly over his broad back. Terror filled you as the dragon finally took flight, its huge wings flapping and the force of it made you realize how easy it must have been for Aemond to ruin your house.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, closing your lids shut and burying your face in Aemond’s shoulders.

This is exactly how he had anticipated your first ride on a dragon with him all these years, how you'd react to the beast moving and roaring. Your subtle touches, adorable reactions and soft sounds were just as Aemond had pictured them in his mind.

And he was fulfilling his promise to you.

Until now, Aemond never allowed anyone to ride with him. Only you were the exception and as gruesome the enmity between the two of you was, he could not simply suppress the overwhelming feelings he'd always harbored.

“Aemond..” You whispered, as the dragon took flight and it left you screaming. “Aemond! I'm fucking terrified.”

One hand holding onto his seat, the other reached over and settled on your hand around his chest. In an attempt to comfort you as Vhagar flew into the depths of the sky, Harrenhal nothing but a small scenery when you opened your eyes to look down at it.

A lone tear slid down your face.

This was not how you wished to ride with Aemond.

You hated him, disgust all over your face when you noticed how little and inferior everything appeared from up here. No wonder the Targaryens burned people and houses, as they felt superior being this close to Gods than the rest of you.

“Calm down, Dōna.” He said to you when his dragon had finally flew for King’s Landing.

You didn't say anything, only loosened your hold around him after realizing how awfully close were you to him.

Aemond noticed that and didn't like it.

“Vēzot, Vhagar. Vēzot.” Upon hearing Aemond’s command, the dragon changed route and flew high up in the air, going up tearing through the grey clouds. In fear of falling, your arms once again found themselves around the dragon rider’s small waist. (Up)

You had no idea what Aemond had said but it made his dragon fly up, defying gravity and leaving you gasping for air.

With a satisfied smile on his face, Aemond relished in the feeling of power he had over you and the power he'll soon have over others too. It was painfully evident his brother was incompetent and if something were to befall him, it would be Aemond next in line to inherit the throne.

Never did you ever think or expect that you would be brought back to the red keep as a prize, a symbol of victory — a slave most definitely for Aemond after how he behaved last time with the guards last time. He did not allow anyone to look at you, to touch you, besides your maidens who helped you doll up for the Prince.

His possessiveness was very well known to you when you both were children but you had expected him to grow out of it. How foolish of you to assume that.

Aemond was a possessive child. You recalled the time where he had forbade his siblings from playing with you — or when he did not let anyone touch his sword or even wield it. You remembered how the future lord of Casterly Rock was treated only because he had dared to pass a compliment to Aemond’s sword.

You could hear the cheers of the smallfolk and it disgusted you. He only won against you and your family, not the Blacks. It repulsed you how he was supporting a usurper and not the rightful heir. Your father died for the cause of Rhaenyra Targaryen, you would do too in a heartbeat.

You were lead inside the Red keep after the notorious flight with Aemond. The Prince’s orders were to his servants were to lead you to his own chambers and clean you up. You had no idea why, but you were not going to comply easily.

“I am not your mistress.” Your voice boomed loudly in the main hall, causing Aemond’s footsteps to come to a halt. “Neither am I your whore. Kill me because I too support Rhaenyra Targaryen’s claim to the throne. I shall die a honorable death as my father and kin did.”

You had dared to speak to him, like that, in the presence of not only the Queen but even the other council members.

Aemond’s hands balled up into fits. “Take her.”

You were forcefully dragged somewhere while you struggled, piercing screams enough to damage one's ears. Before you were pulled in a corridor, you made a promise. “I will get my revenge, Aemond Targaryen. You shall answer for the blood of my family that stains your hands. I will never forgive you!”

Alicent followed her son, your threats still lingering in her mind. You had screamed them with tremendous agony and will. She worried, for the kingdom.

“Do you believe you would be doing the realm anything good by bringing a blood thirsty enemy here?” Alicent questioned as she followed Aemond into the room where the council took place.

His fists shook, with poorly tamed rage. “She is anything but a weak girl.”

Alicent scoffed. “She is openly screaming threats. Either a fool would do that or a person who has got absolutely nothing to lose, Aemond.”

“Her screams will quiet down once I have managed to put a child in her.” Aemond spat at his mother, placing his sword down on the table.

She was appalled at what her son had evolved into. The monster he'd become and somewhere she doubted her own motherly skills.

You were forced into a beautiful, pale dress – the fabric as thin as a sheer curtain – after your bath. The maids obviously did not provide you with anything which could conceal your body in the see through white dress. It had embroidery done on the front, so it somewhat worked to cover your breasts.

But the longer it extended, the more it revealed everything underneath.

Pieces of your wavy dark hair were pinned behind, some braided with silver rings clipped around.

The maids soon excused themselves, leaving you to your solitude. Your body felt cold from the lack of clothes so you moved over to stand before the fireplace. Arms sliding up and down your frame to warm up yourself.

Truth to be told, you were suffering with trepidation. Were you prepared to sleep, to head to bed? But why in Aemond’s chambers? All sorts of vile and impure thoughts came rushing in your mind as you tried to keep them at bay.

The doors were soon opened and there stood Aemond, in a different set of clothes. You immediately stepped back, albeit him standing far away from you. He noticed that but no matter how many walls you tried to build between you two, Aemond was determined to break and crush each and every one of those.

He appeared enamored with you.

You were nothing less than an angel, standing underneath the moonlight illuminating your frame.

“Is this what you brought me here for, Prince Regent? To dress me up and warm your bed late at night?” You questioned with disgust and Aemond stepped froward.

You immediately retreated. “Do not dare to come any closer. I will not be one of your whores.”

“What makes you think I would let you become one of my whores?” Aemond asked with a soft tone. Your beauty had soothed all his irritation but it also ignited a fire within his core.

“You're a monster.” You whispered. “You have become a tyrant, a beast worse than those dragons of yours. It is a pity.”

Aemond was losing his patience with you. He didn't waste time, snapping and running towards you. The man pinned you against the wall, knocking over a vase resting on a table besides you. Pain bloomed in your back from the hardness of the wall — and being slammed into it.

The targaryen man locked eyes with you and let out a smile of satisfaction, witnessing the fear swimming in your innocent gaze. “Pity? You dare pity me when you are left with nothing of your house, nothing.”

The cruel reminder caused tears to well up in your eyes but your gaze stayed locked with Aemond’s. It did not waver and with all your strength, you pushed him away from you.

“I hate you.” You confessed, tears sliding down your face, a testament to the pain you were battling. “You were my friend, my fucking friend. How could you do this to me, to me? Your fucking Dōna, Aemond.”

When he heard the high valyrian word escape your lips, he growled. You saw him take a step further and this time decided to make a run for the door, trying to crawl over the bed hastily but Aemond was fast, vigilant as he grabbed you.

You fought back, slapping and punching him but it didn't work at all. He shoved his lips against yours and he did not care that you didn't want this. He wanted it, that was all that mattered. Aemond’s tongue forcefully entered your mouth as your hands continuously punched his chest.

He pushed you down on the both whilst staying locked to you, tasting your plump lips with vigor.

Head tilted, he pushed open your thighs and buried his knee between them. Rutting it against your cunt and you released a muffled cry in the liplock, hoping he would show some mercy but Aemond was too far gone.

The pressure on your clit – sheer fabric the cause of you and Aemond’s separation – was intense. A burgeoning need lighting up in your core as you struggled. There was no way you would give in, no matter how much you had admired him when you both were children. You knew better. You were only the daughter of some lord, meanwhile he was the Prince.

The fight for dominance was already won by Aemond as his tongue explored the inside of your sweet flesh. He broke apart from you to gaze upon you, a mess he'd turned you into. Face flushed, lips swollen and bloodied from how harshly he had sunk his canines into them.

Your dark hair with glinting silver in pure disarray, spread about everywhere on the bed. Aemond was fucking drunk and there was no stopping him.

“You said I'm a monster, right?” His voice was eerily low, causing you to panic. “I shall show you what monstrosity I am capable of.”

He tore the dress in a single tug, discarding the two pieces somewhere on the ground. Fear evident in your enlarged eyes as you struggled to conceal yourself with your arms but Aemond held them above your head, his fingers roughly pressing into your skin leaving marks.

“Aemond, please.” Tears fell and Aemond nearly softened.

If you'd been kind to him like how you were in the past, this compromising situation wouldn't have fallen you. He would've let you live, be a maid in the red keep but now, he had to prove it to you.

Just what he was capable of.

“Aemond,” you sweetly called out, hoping it would work. “My prince, don't do this. You do not wish to do this.”

“Too late for that sweet tone, my lady. If you do not wish for worse, I suggest you shut your goddamn mouth and take it.” His voice was so soft, so low but his words were as repulsive and cruel. It was what Aemond had become. A broken boy who sought out solace but was too afraid to ask for it, fearful of seeming weak — yet again becoming a target of his brother’s constant bullying.

In the process of becoming what he hated, Aemond lost you too.

One eye raked over your exposed breasts, full and round. You were no longer the little girl who used to chase him around the red keep, in her long dresses. You had flourished, flowered with grown tits and when his eye fell lower, he inhaled sharply. Plush, meaty thighs greeted them. He recalled how at one point you were as skinny as a boy, with no fat to your lean frame.

Now you had blossomed in a beautiful woman.

Your skin glowed neath the moonlight, your presence basking in its light. It showcased all the little minorities your features carried, what you had become, the delicate beauty that you were.

“You are certainly no little girl no more.” He reminded you, words no less than salt over your sounds.

Tears pearled on your waterline. “And you've grown into a fine man yourself.”

Your words were carried on obvious pain and Aemond pretended he did not catch a whiff of that. You continued, with a wavering voice, drained from all your rebellion and fight. “Fine but cruel, Aemond. I thought you were different, ought to be different. You proved me wrong.”

“Keep your lips sealed.” Aemond commanded, as your words nearly made his will to defile you falter. Being the daughter of a high lord, he was certain your maidenhead was still intact. You were never the type to engage in lecherous actions before the pure promise of a marriage.

Aemond’s rough hands took a handful of your breasts, fondling the fat. Thumbs swiping over your peebles, sending them upright. Undeniable pleasure shot through your body in the form of swarming heat as it settled in your lower stomach. A prominent gasp tore from your parted, swollen lips as Aemond stared at you in adoration.

“They are so full.” His comment about your body your pleasure-clad face form into one of grimace. “I wonder how your cunt looks now that you are older. You were always too innocent to consider our friendship anything more than what it was.”

Your back arched off the bed, the writhing of your hips increasing whenever Aemond rubbed his knee over your tiny pearl. You felt it swell up with need and wanton, a dull ache growing, begging to be burned out. The silver haired male pried your thighs open to lay eye on your pink cunt.

Aemond licked a wet tongue over his lips, his hunger to taste your seemingly delicious core pressing at him. He never once got overwhelmed with the urge to put his mouth on a woman's cunt — as the woman he got involved with whores. He had no interest in tasting something where most men found solace in.

But you were a virgin.

He knew that.

Yet he asked, surely to rile you up. “Has anyone been inside of you yet?”

Your eyes widened at the repulsive question of his. Brows scrunching in disgust and the rosette on your cheeks transcending into beetroot. Before you could control your imminent action, a strike echoed in the chambers. Tears had stalled, replaced with a hateful searing look and when Aemond recovered from the slap and faced you, chills enveloped you. Despite the impact, he was still poised. Eyes sheened with darkness and pure rage, his hand moved to reciprocate the harsh movement.

Only his slap hurt more — a scorching sensation awakening below your skin. A hint of red in the form of a hand imprinted on your face.

“Answer my question.”

You shook your head. Not only had the slap worked wonders to make you more pliant, it also made you realize that what Aemond was capable of.

His fingers ran along the line of your plumped up lips. “Use this pretty mouth of yours.”

“I'm not a low born.” You said through gritted teeth. “I'm chaste. Check for yourself if you are disbelieving of me.”

Aemond let out a scoff, fingers dimpling into your cheeks. The angry pout on your lips along with his hand print left behind on your cheek made you look ten times more endearing to him. “That I plan on doing, my lady.”

Hands lowering to your thighs, fingers dipping in the thickness. Aemond nestled his head between them, eyes gliding over your glistening cunt. It was true that you were still chaste and he was sure of it, there was no need to check it. He softly ran his tongue over your pearl, a sharp breath from you entering his ears.

“I don't want this.” Your tone had a hint of plea in it. “Please, Aemond. It is too repulsive, I cannot—”

Aemond growled. “Cannot, what? You cannot allow my cock inside you? Cannot allow me to put a babe in you? Or won't allow me to simply because I'm Aemond.”

“Targaryen with the largest dragon who put an end to my family line.” You finished, vision blurring. Aemond knew this conversation was pointless to carry and he instead closed his lips around your swollen bud, suckling like it would produce the sweetest of nectars in existence.

You tried to fight him off, pushing at his shoulders with the little strength left in your small fingers to no avail. He sucked with great vigor and your demeanor fell — back rising up from the ruined mattress and hips pushing your mound further into his cage. He pulled back, lapping at your swollen clit over and over again, like a dog in heat. Tears furiously caressed down your face as Aemond’s fingers came to collect your arousal from the center of your folds.

By the Gods, you were a waterfall.

“Never did I think I would grow this addicted to the taste of a woman's cunt.” Aemond whispered, his warm breath shooting jolts of pleasure through you. Your hand on its own accord pressed onto his head, palm flaccid and fingers twisting his Targaryen strands around. “The more I taste you, the more famished I become.”

“G-Get off me.” You somehow managed to utter. You were mortified. How your body ached for him to continue, hand forcing his mouth against your hot heat whilst the heavy fists of your morals thudded on the door of your hazed mind.

All but a futile endeavor to fight back.

Aemond pulled back and reached for his slacks, undoing them. You watched with a dazed out look as he released his cock from the confines of his breeches. His fingers moving to curve under the hem of his shirt, ridding himself of the leather as well as his small clothes.

Left bare and naked before you, your gaze caught Aemond’s searing red cock. Head swollen and shining with leaking cum, veins traced up and down. You closed your eyes, in hopes that the nightmare before you would be over but that was only you losing last remnants of your hope.

“I-It won't fit.” You whispered to yourself, more tears sliding down your temples.

Aemond heard it, despite your voice being a low whisper. He reached over to grab your face between his large hand, fingers sinking into your cheeks. That caused you to flutter your weak lids open, staring back at him with a sheen in your pupils. “It will fit. Your maidenhead is still intact, so it might be painful. But who cares?”

Your bottom lip quivered as Aemond let go, holding his cock. He guided it across your wet slit, pushing its thick head past your folds and pressing into your pearl. Your breath was bated, perspiration dancing on your forehead. Your body had grown completely warm and you wished for someone, anyone to burn down the fire which was ignited in the fireplace.

Aemond gathered your arousal, in soft circulation around your pebble. You whined out, hands slapping at his broad shoulders to put an end to his obscenities. Yet he did not falter, will growing more profound and strengthened to a point of no return.

He soon aligned his cock along your hole with the disgusting intention to defile it and slipped in. Your walls squeezing around his cock head tightly, endeavoring to grow used to the size but Aemond did not wait. He pushed and your tears of sadness had now transformed into tears of pain.

Hot searing pain.

“It hurts, it hurts. Let me go, please let me go.” You cried, screamed even, nails scratching rapidly at his chest. You left evidence of your firmness, of your distaste for such degeneration. Long lacerations formed on a pale canvas as Aemond held you down with one hand circled around your throat while the other had pushed your leg up for more easy and open access.

You were crying relentlessly and it was beginning to annoy the young Prince. “Quiet now, or I will have your tongue.”

“I-It is too p-painful.” You sobbed and this time Aemond landed a tight slap to your other cheek, watching it imitate the shade of the other one. “I said, fucking quiet. If I hear anything other than sounds of pleasure out of these lips of yours, I will toss you to my guards.”

It was an empty threat.

Aemond would never, ever do that. You were for him, only him. Insignificant your view was about him.

You were his prize, a sign of victory.

Still Aemond stalled, not having the heart to pummel his cock fully into you. All he managed was to breach your maidenhead and you were already wailing like you'd been shot with an arrow. He waited it out, letting you grow accustomed to his length and thickness.

Once your agony-clad face recovered and softened, Aemond took it as a sign to move further. Your gummy walls sucking his cock in, caressing the rigid veins. Deeper, and deeper. He went slowly and carefully, which you didn't overlook. You felt him sheath his cock fully into you, arms extended out for him, in complete submission.

Aemond, silently surprised by such vulnerability and submission, took your hands into his and brought them to his nape. “Hold me, brace yourself, Dōna.”

That sweet tone of his.

It nearly warmed your heart but the constant reminder which took at Harrenhal haunted you like a ghost. A cursed bestowed upon you, no escape at all. Aemond melted within you, nestling against your spongey spot of nerves. Your lips fell when he found that sensitive spot of yours.

He didn't waste time pummeling his cock into your weeping cunt, growls of a beast escaping him. You could not bring yourself to look at him. Pulling him closer, you concealed your face within the crook of his neck as your hold clasped around his slender nape — fingers intertwining with silver roots. Aemond had only tried Sylvie, his first and last so when he felt you draw him closer, it ignited a fire impossible to end.

“Gods,” Aemond groaned in your ear, his sharp nose running along your cheek, both hands gripping your flesh. “If I had known laying with you would be this pleasurable, I would have done it when we were younglings.”

Disgust would have made path on yout face it it was not for the pleasure Aemond bestowed upon you. His thick cock head repeatedly bruised your cervix and all you could do was wail, your hold for dear life tightening around him. Aemond found delight on your innocent moans, your sweet little hiccups and sounds of pleasure. He pulled from you, to glance down and felt immense satisfaction at the ring of blood around his length. He had officially taken you, not exactly under the circumstances he wanted but pondering about that was futile now.

His one eye stayed focused on you. Examining the lines donning your forehead, dark brows furrowed and a sheen of sweat sitting on your forehead. Pale cheeks flustered and saccharine sweet lips parted, birthing little sounds.

An epitome of nobility and charm you were.

Aemond pulled out of you, just as you were beginning to reach your pounding climax.

He leaned on the head board of the bed, chest glistening with droplets of sweat. The fire crackling was not helping neither of you to find some cold. “Get on top of me.”

You weakly shook your head.

Aemond’s glare obliged you and you shifted on the bed, crawling on top of him. In the process, you caught the blood of your purity staining the pale bed sheets, as well as your thighs. A burning sensation prodded and you finally did what Aemond asked you to do. The evil man grinned, leaning forward to press a kiss to your temple.

“I'm sure you know your job here.”

Your lips trembled. “I-I am supposed to sit on it?”

Innocently you had voiced that question and Aemond almost cooed. He gave you a simple nod and watched as your cheeks burned with newfound embarrassment. You still did what you were told to, aware that fighting him back on this would only make him revoke the small kindness he'd shown you.

You grabbed a hold of his erect cock — pressing it over your soaked hole. As you slipped down on it, Aemond and you groaned in unison.

Your small hands found support on his bleeding chest, fingers swiping over his nipples accidentally and Aemond let out a choked gasp. The feeling of your walls clamping his cock mixed with the way your fingers brushed over his nipples was enough to send him fucking into you. Thrusting upwards into you while his large hand stayed locked on your hip.

Both of you moved simultaneously, greedily chasing after your own pleasure. Aemond saw a goddess in front of him — a weeping goddess who possessed the cunt of a hungry whore. Your small waist and bare tits bouncing with each move had him obsessed like a dog.

“Fuck, fuck, Dōna.”

He panted like his dragon, matching your pace with his, hand fondling your breasts. He was close but ripping an orgasm through you first was his priority and he was dedicated to it. Aemond felt your cunt squeeze him, watching as your tears fell in little pearls. “I am going to put a babe in you, Dōna. Can you believe it? Your childhood friend putting a babe in you.”

You couldn't even voice out your disagreement, Aemond was bound to do what he promised you. An intense feeling surged in your stomach, your pace slowing down and your sobbing growing more and more. Your orgasm tore through you in the form of essence, as your eyes disappeared behind your lids.

“Aemond, Aemond! Aemond.” You chanted his name out like a mantra and he slapped his cock deeper into you.

He fucking loved how submissive you were being now — entirely at his mercy and neath him. His own climax followed thoroughly, filling your walls with his spend. Spurting our rope after rope of white to fill up your expanded womb. Growls of need and ache echoed in the room and you couldn't stay still anymore, losing all your balance and colliding right in his chest.

Your little body was spent, fatigue and tiredness weakening you. Aemond was quick to wrap his arms around you, shushing you gently while you cried in his chest.

“It's over now.” He reassured but you knew very well that it was not. It was only for tonight that it was over.

Aemond comforted you, holding you against him with his cock still inside you.

“I hate you.” You cried, tears coating his chest as your forehead rested on his muscular chest. Aemond could only sigh, loathing the situation that bad befallen them. He did not resent you as you were the only one who had shown him true kindness.

But the war and throne were far more important.

“Rest, you need it.” He said, an order it was and you felt forced to comply. “Things will be very different from now on, Dōna. I will have the high sept marry us tomorrow, our child will not be a bastard.”

All you could do was weakly stir in his arms at that. There was no way you were willing but it was better than being a slave for Aemond’s guards. Being one man's whore was better than being a thousand’s.

#mimi writes ☆#aemond x you #aemond smut #dark aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader #dark aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #hotd season 2 #house of the dragon #tw noncon #dark aemond smut #house targaryen

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aemondapologistfrfr · 11 months ago

Text

His Princess

fancast!bloody ben x targ!fem!reader

Summary: During Rhaenyras absence Jace and Baela deploy you out to deal with the Blackwoods and the Brackens, atop Silverwing. You treat with Lord Benjicot and prepare for a battle with the Brackens. You both can’t help the feelings that arise from working closely together.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, drinking, blood, blades, death(not mc), burning, foul language, political plotting, oral (f receiving), p in v

Authors Note: no bc i got caught up in the plot for a sec 😵‍💫, the rider dragon bond is diff than show, I would say I proofread this like 90%

Word Count: 6.2k

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

“I’m done fucking waiting.” Jace paces around the painted table cursing under his breath. Baela goes to Jaces side and offers him hushed words of support.

The council stares at Jace in anticipation to finally make an appearance in this war. Rhaenyra has been gone for days without so much as a word while Jace and Beala are getting eaten alive by the men surrounding this table. Daemon is doing Gods know what in Harrenhal while we’re on the brink of battle.

“The Riverlands grow restless, my Prince. The Blackwoods and Brackens are at each other’s throats. There’s been no word from Daemon so we must assume no one is there to rally them together.” Lord Massey states with a clipped tone.

“We must send a dragon to amass them to our cause. Or to help the Blackwoods defeat the Brackens. Regardless something needs to be done and soon.” Lord Celtigar nods his head and looks around at his fellow vultures.

“Y/N take Silverwing.” Jace turns to me. “Go to Raventree Hall. Speak with Bejicot Blackwood and do whatever it takes to get him and his men to join our other army. If you can get the Brackens to bend the knee: Great. If not: Burn them. We are done sitting aside in this war.” Jace says with a boisterous voice.

“I heartedly agree with this decision.” Lord Emmon nods his head along with the other Lords.

“Then I shall see you when I return victorious, brother.” I smile to Jace. “Sister.” I smile and nod to Baela before exiting the war room.

Once in my chambers I hastily pack a couple of bags. I change into my riding armor and place my sword in its sheath down my back. I dart down the stairs to greet Silverwing before anyone changes their mind on sending us out. My dragon and I have been itching to take to the skies and begin bending knees.

“Hello, my beautiful girl.” I coo as I approach her and offer her pats. “We’ve finally been given leave.” I say with a playful tone as she chuffs and turns to me.

I quickly mount her and she brings us to the lip of the cave. As she steps over the ledge she lets us free fall which always makes my heart drop. Her wings catch the breeze and we shoot forward as I wildly laugh while clinging to her.

During the flight to the Riverlands I keep my eyes peeled for any armys. I have yet to see anything concerning, but keep a vigilant watch nonetheless. We fly a couple miles away from Harrenhal, but we still faintly hear Caraxes high pitched song.

We thankfully hear no other dragons and have no vision on any army’s as we begin our approach on Raventree Hall. Silverwing circles the castle and gives out a fearsome cry before landing on the outskirts of the city walls. I leave my bags attached to the saddle incase I don’t receive the welcome I’m expecting. Once I make it to solid ground guards start to approach, but keep their distance as they take in my dragon hovering behind of me.

“I come as an extension of the Crown. I must speak with your Lord at once.” I look to the guards expectantly.

“And which Crown might that be?” one guard is brave enough to question me.

“The only rightful Crown. That sits atop my mother’s head. Queen Rhaenyra.” my tone clipped as I start to approach and then men back up.

“I’m sorry, Princess.” they all bow their heads deeply as they bend the knee to my mothers cause. “These are strange times.”

“Indeed.” I hum as I look down at them.

“I’ll go get Lord Benjicot.” one guard raises his head and rushes through the gate behind him.

I turn back to Silverwing and she seems to roll her eyes at the men behind of us. I climb back to retrieve my bags and offer her words of praise and thanks for a smooth flight. As I turn to dismount once more there is a handsome man looking up at me with a slack jaw. I look down at him with low lids and wicked smile.

“Who might you be?” I call down to him as I toss my bags next to him.

“Lord Benjicot Blackwood, Ben if you wish.” he calls up to me as he falls to his knees. I smirk as I slide down the side of Silverwing and stand in front of him as he continues to look at my boots.

“Rise, Ben.” I say hushed as his eyes travel up my body until they lock with mine.

“Is it too forward to say that I much like this position?” Ben offers me a wink and devilish smirk.

“Is that so?” I hum as I bring my hand to the side of his cheek. He grabs my hand with his own and brings it to his mouth to place a kiss on the back. He rises and towers above me never breaking our eye contact.

“What can I do for you, Princess?” he asks, smirk still plastered on his face.

“I wish to have an audience with you and your advisors in the council chambers.” I remove my hand from his and get to the more pressing matters. “I should also like live feed brought for my dragon. She’s hungry and I wouldn’t want her to pick through your men.” I looks to him expectantly waiting to be invited inside.

“Yes,” he clears his throat. “I’ll have some of my guards bring some cattle. Will she harm them?” he whispers the last part to me.

“Not unless they deserve it.” I chuckle as I grab my bags.

“Perfect.” Ben claps his hands together. “Then let’s have a meeting.” he takes my bags from my hands and leads me into the gate.

He hands my bags to servants and tells them to have them brought to the guest chambers. He leads me straight to the council chambers and offers me the seat next to him. Slowly members begin to filter into the room and once everyone takes their seat Ben rises.

“Gentlemen, this is Y/n Targaryen. Queen Rhaenyras first daughter. Rider of Silverwing.” he tells them, his words sounding like adoration.

“As I’m sure you’re all aware war is on the horizon, if not already here. After the battle of the burning mill it’s clear tensions have been high. I want to thank you for fighting in the name of my mother. I am here to ask you to pick up your swords for her again.” I look to all of them to read their expressions.

“What do you propose we do?” one of his advisors asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Call your banners and follow me and Silverwing to the Brackens. I shall ask them to bend the knee to the rightful Queen. If they refuse I shall burn them at your sides and we will continue on to meet the rest of our army to continue to battle and glory.” I say hoping they accept my more than generous offer.

“And what if the Brackens bend the knee? You expect us to fight alongside them?” another advisor speaks up, disgust heavy in his voice.

“I expect you to fight for your Queen.” my voice rises as I stand looking to him.

“We will fight for you. I’m just not sure if the Brackens share the same sentiment, Princess.” Ben adds, eyes shooting daggers to the advisor who spoke to me in such a manner.

“Then they’ll die.” I say flatly as I reclaim my seat.

“Then it’s settled.” Ben announces as no one else has any other grievances. “I’ll be able to have my men ready in two days time.” he nods his head to me.

“Excellent. I have nothing further to discuss at this moment.” I say waving my hand.

Ben dismisses his advisors and servants flood in and offer me beverages and food. I accept a cup of wine and sigh as I lean back into my chair. This went smoother than I anticipated, but I still think there will be work to do to prepare the Blackwoods before I ask the Brackens to bend the knee.

“I must send a raven to Dragonstone.” my eyes glide to Ben who has been staring at me.

“Yes, of course.” he rises from his chair quickly causing the legs to groan against the stone. “I’ll fetch you some parchment and ink.” he rushes out the door and leaves me blinking after him.

I scribble out a note to Jace and tell him of what’s happened and how I expect the meeting with the two hosts to go. I tell him I’ve secured the Blackwoods and intend to try my best with the Brackens but make no explicit promises. I seal it with red ink and hand it off directly to the maester.

“Allow me to show you to your chambers.” Ben says offering me his arm.

I look him over and decide it’s not terrible if I hang off of his arm like a simpering fool for a couple of days. There’s something alluring about him. I can feel the violence bubbling under the surface which excites me to no end. He begins to parade us down the halls with a ridiculous smile on his face as he looks down to every man we pass.

“Here we are, Princess.” he hums as we stop in front of a large set of double doors.

He opens the doors and escorts me in. I spot my bags on a chair near the freshly lit hearth. I peer into the bathing chambers and hum in appreciation at the small pool I have for a bath. Candles are lit throughout the chambers making them feel warm and inviting beside the dark stone and wood.

“I’ll admit I’m surprised you brought me to my own chambers and not yours.” I turn to Ben smiling as I see his cheeks redden.

“Is that disappointment I hear?” Ben cocks his head, matching my smile.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” I playfully roll my eyes.

“Change and I’ll show you around Raventree Hall.” Ben’s smile lingers on his face. “If you want.” he backtracks slightly nervous.

“Come collect me in an hour.” I smile as his eyes alight with excitement as he slips out of my chambers.

Why couldn’t Jace send me to a house without such a handsome flirt of a Lord. I sigh out as I fall back into my bed. I rise and begin to remove my armor. I place my sword on the bed unsure if I’m ready to not have it on my person, armor or gown. I slip into a black form fitting gown and settle for a hidden dagger on my thigh. The sheath can only be seen if one is looking for it or if their hands found themselves traveling somewhere they shouldn’t. I braid my silver hair out of my face and leave the rest flowing down my back. I go to the couch and watch out the window until Ben comes to get me.

“Princess?” Ben’s voice carries through the door followed by a couple knocks.

“Come.” I call as I begin to rise off of the couch. Ben stands in the doorway staring at me with wide eyes. “Is this not appropriate for a tour? I can change.” I look down smoothing my dress slightly embarrassed and confused.

“No,” he breathes out. “No, you look perfect Princess.” his eyes meet mine and I can feel my cheeks flush at his compliment.

“Thank you.” I look up to his eyes and smile softly.

“A true Targaryen beauty.” he hums as he places a kiss on my hand lowering his head.

“You honor me, Lord Benjicot.” I say flustered at his words and actions.

“Ben,” he corrects me, smirking.

“Ben.” his name falls off of my tongue breathlessly.

“Come, let me show you my home.” Ben offers me his arm, which I accept as he leads me out of my chambers.

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Ben and I shamelessly flirt over the next two days as we ready our host. We plan strategies with his advisors on the best way to go about speaking with the Brackens. I’ve flown Silverwing near the border and seen the host they’re amassing for themselves. I’ll admit I hope to turn them to my mother’s cause but I can only do so much. This feud between these two house has lasted many generations and I’m not sure that the presence of a dragon will make much of a difference.

Jace has sent back word confirming and allowing me leave to do what must be done to secure a host from the Riverlands. There has been no word on Rhaenyra much to my concern and frustration. Hopefully the next time I see her I’ll have an army raised in her name. I send another raven back stating I plan to meet the Bracken host on the morrow and will send him word of the outcome.

“Are you scared?” Ben asks me, looking over his cup of wine as we dine alone.

“I think Silverwing and I can handle this.” I shrug, biting my lip.

“I know you both can. Doesn’t mean you can’t be scared.” he offers me a soft smile.

“Is it bad to admit that I am?” I asked hushed looking to him.

“No, it makes you smart. I haven’t seen you fight or duel. But from looking at the armor and sword you wore the first time I laid eyes on you, I would say you’re no stranger to what may come.” he surmises looking to me intently.

“I do well with a blade, better with fire.” I smile deviously. “How do you fare? Are you scared, Ben?” my smile widens as I suck in my bottom lip.

“Why should I be scared? I have a Targaryen Princess and her dragon flying above me. I think I can manage with a blade from below.” his eyes filled with shameless admiration as he looks to me.

“Don’t be so humble. I’ve heard your nickname and stories throughout your host.” I raise my eyebrow to him across the table.

“What nickname is that? I’m afraid there’s a few floating around.” he chuckles lowly.

“All I’ve heard is the whispers of Bloody Ben leading them to victory. How you come out of battle covered in blood with a wicked smile painted through it.” I look to him as his smile widens.

“Does that scare you?” he tilts his head studying me.

“Not in the slightest.” I gently shake my head.

“We shall see if that’s true on the morrow.” he hums, still looking over my face. “Allow me to escort you to your chambers.” he rises and walks over to help me rise from my chair.

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I rise early in the morning before the sun has started to rise. I begin fastening my hair into two long braids that flow down my back. I begin to stretch out some before covering myself in my armor. Once everything is secured I slide my blade down my back and check to make sure I have everything I should need. I quickly exit my chambers and as I’m turning the corner I clash into a man.

“Good morning.” I look up at Ben’s voice as his arms steady mine as I sway. “I was just coming to wake you.” he smiles still holding on to me.

“I always break fast with Silverwing before we do something strenuous. Would you like to join us?” I offer with a soft smile.

“I’d be honored, Princess.” he bows his head lowly as I playfully push him back.

“I thought we were done with the formalities, Lord Benjicot.” I chuckle as he regains his composure.

“Oh no, you will always be my Princess.” he licks his lips as I feel my cheeks start to heat.

“Mm, your Princess?” I raise my eyebrows trying to pretend my cheeks aren’t the color of dragon fire.

“Yes, mine.” he says lowly as he pinches one of my cheeks. “Come, let’s go get some cattle for Silverwing. I want to make sure she’s well fed for today, along with you, my Princess.” he whispers my title into my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

I follow after him as he takes us to the dining hall. He tells a servant to have a couple plates made for us and brought out near Silverwing for us to eat. He leads us out of his castle and over to the rows of stables and barns. He offers men more than enough coin and soon we have five cattle trailing behind us as we make our way to Silverwing.

As we approach we see our breakfast laid on a blanket near my sleeping dragon who is now starting to wake at my approach. Ben lingers by our breakfast with the string of cows as I approach her. I rub her snout and walk down the length of her body to her tail, trailing my hand all the way. She begins to stir and offers small chuffs. As I walk back to her head she nudges her snout into me and huffs out.

“Oh come on, it’s not that early.” I chuckle as I scratch under her jaw. “That handsome man over there has brought you some gifts.” I hum as she rises her head and looks to Ben.

I nod my head encouragingly to Ben to bring over the cows. He walks over with a stiff spine but is sure to show no fear. Silverwing stares down at him as I walk to his side. She looks at both of us and comes to eye level. I look to Silverwing like a mother warning her child to be nice.

“He’s not your treat, he’s mine. He brought these cattle for you to indulge yourself on.” Silverwing chuffs at us and turns to the cows waiting for us to back away.

“Come.” I say, pulling Ben away.

Once we’re a safe distance away Silverwing dowses the cattle in fire until they’re burnt to a crisp. She lays back down with a thud and leisurely begins to eat her meal. Ben looks on at the scene as I leave his side to return to our breakfast. He claims a seat next to me, still looking to Silverwing.

“So how does that work? She can understand you?” Ben asks taking a sip of juice.

“She can understand me, yes. We have this sort of bond. It’s like a mutual respect of each other’s feelings and boundaries. Kind of as if our souls are molded together as one.” I look to my beautiful dragon as I speak with admiration.

“I can’t even begin to imagine the strength it takes to do that. To command the skies with her. You both are just so other-worldly.” Ben looks to me with reverence.

Silverwing chirps a soft song at Ben’s words and she continues to feast upon her cattle. I smile at her acceptance and happily eat the meal prepared for me. We eat in a comfortable silence as the men begin to rise for the upcoming day.

After we finish our breakfast Ben goes to speak with his fellow commanders and finalize the plan. I lounge with Silverwing watching the men run around camp. She grumbles when some walk a little to closer for her liking and I chuckle as they’re quick to run back. Once everyone seems scarce I rise and see that they have begun to fall into lines ready to march.

“It’s almost time for us to fly. I know not what today holds for us, but I know we will be victorious.” I talk to Silverwing patting her as I start to mount.

“A moment, my Princess.” Ben calls from afar and I turn to see him running to me.

“Yes?” I return to the ground and await for him to come to me.

“I seek your favor.” he pants, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “For luck, on our endeavors.” his cheeks become red from more than just his short run.

“I-“ I pat my armor knowing I have nothing on me to offer him. “I have nothing on me to-“ Silverwing chuffs and snaps a cattle bone, looking to us expectantly.

“Thank you, my beautiful Silverwing.” Ben smiles widely at my dragon as he bends down to claim the now bone knife from her claws.

“It seems she’s taken a liking to you.” I gasp as Silverwing nudges my back pushing me into Ben.

“And what of you?” he hums holding me.

“I suppose I have.” I try to look anywhere but in his eyes as my face heats.

“You have what?” he asks with a smirk, tilting my chin with his fingers so I have to look at him.

“Taken a liking to you.” I reply breathlessly looking at him through my lashes.

“May I have your favor?” Ben looks to my lips and then to my eyes in a silent question to which I nod my head vigorously.

His lips crash down into mine and his teeth are quick to bite down on my lower lip. I gasp out and his tongue slips into my mouth to dance with mine. One of his hands finds its way to the back of my neck molding me to him. He pulls back from my mouth as our breath mingles. I kiss him quickly one more time and a smile splits across his face. He kisses my forehead softly and steps back from me.

“Our host awaits your command, my Princess.” he looks at me with heavy lids.

“Begin marching, we should make it to Stone Hedge a little after midday. If you don’t see me, we’re in the clouds, but I’ll always be above you. I will see you for negotiations.” I nod to him.

“Understood. I will see you in a couple of hours.” he returns my nod, his cheeks still slightly flushed.

“Do not die today.” I call out as he begins to walk away.

“Your wish is my command.” he turns to me and bows deeply before continuing back to his men.

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I fly ahead of the Blackwood host to see if there are any traps waiting for us. We have a clear path directly to Stone Hedge. I hear no other dragons in our vicinity and sigh in relief. As we approach the outskirts we fly in closer to see if there are any scorpions that I should take out before even thinking of landing in an open field. I mark no weapons of note that make me unsure of my landing.

I circle back to our host and coast on the breeze as they make their way closer. They stop on the other side of the Brackens wooden barricade and await for my arrival. I fly over the approaching Bracken host taking in their numbers. We have about couple hundred more swords than they do and a dragon so I have no worry. Silverwing gives out a high pitched screech and the Blackwood hosts recedes allowing us land in front of them.

As we approach I can see the Brackens pushing back to their gates and chuckle. I slide out of my saddle and make my way to solid ground. The Blackwood host looks at me as if I’m a goddess stepping onto their battle field to bless them.

“How was the flight? What did you gather from up there?” Ben peppers me with questions on approach.

“We have more swords than they do. There were no weapons of note that I was worried about or we wouldn’t have landed here. On approach they pulled back. I’m going to have to lure the Lord out.” I list off what I’ve observed from the skies.

“Noted.” Ben nods his head. “And how was the flight?” his face softens as he smiles.

“Absolutely delightful.” my smile matches his as I look back to Silverwing.

“I’m glad to hear.” he looks down at me tenderly.

“Let’s go see if there’s a way to talk this through.” I sigh and begin leading us to the barricade.

As we begin walking to the middle I see small group of men approaching from the Bracken side. We wait at the edge expectancy and they stop a couple hundred feet away. I groan out in annoyance as I climb over the wooden fence. Ben is right behind of me as we cross the line.

“Thank you for meeting us away from your beast.” one of them says foolishly.

“My beast?” I bark out a laugh at his audacity. “She’s had quite the large breakfast, but surely she could always eat more?” I tilt my head, squinting my eyes at him.

“What is it that you’re here for?” Lord Bracken steps out from behind his men.

“Bend the knee to my mother, the rightful Queen of the realm. Join your host with hers and ride with her into battle and glory.” I hold my chin high as I study them as they take in my words.

“Alongside Blackwoods?” Lord Bracken scoffs looking to Ben.

“Alongside fellow Queensmen.” I correct through my teeth trying to cool my temper at his tone and disrespect. I’m trying to avoid what I know is coming and soon I won’t have patience for words anymore.

“What do I get in return? Her brazen daughter who stands to inherit nothing? Does she truly think your cunt is worth my army?” Lord Bracken looks at me with a smile as his words slam into me.

“As if you would’ve ever deserved her.” Ben breathes out in a chuckle and he lunges at Lord Bracken and slams the cow bone knife into the side of his throat. “You don’t speak to her like that.” he grits out twisting the bone.

The world slows as the next seconds play out in front of me. He pulls the bone out as blood splatters across his face he quickly slams it into the leg of the man next to him. I quickly grab my blade from my back and slice open the man who began to run towards Ben. The last man grabs me harshly and I grab the dagger from my ribs and slam it up into his jaw. I pull the dagger out of the man’s jaw causing blood to spray across my face. Time resumes normally and I’m quick to hear shouts from either side of the army.

“Get to Silverwing.” Ben shouts to me as he turns to face the army pulling out his long sword.

As I run back to the barricade men begin pouring over and running past me. They keep a clear path away from my dragon and I’m able to get to her quickly. I clip into the saddle and she shoots us into the air. We fly low as I look on at the brazen violence. We fly near the back of their lines so they’re not safe on any front.

“Dracarys Silverwing.” I cry out and the entirely of the back of their host is doused in dragon flame.

As I look down I see burning men running for their life. I fly to undefended western side of the Bracken host and Silverwing is quick to bathe them in flame. After burning as many as I could without getting too close to Blackwood men we circle our host and land at the back. I quickly dismount from Silverwing preparing to go into the thick of the battle.

A horn blows and all fighting ceases. I climb back up Silverwing to look on at the bloody mess to see what’s going on. I see my mother’s flag raised in the center of the field. I lay back into my saddle and smile that everything is done. I dismount once more and wait at Silverwings feet for Ben to come find us and tell us of his victory.

“My Princess.” Ben’s voice carries through the crowd as they part to make way for him.

“Bloody Ben indeed.” I hum as I look over him in his disheveled state.

“You’ve got a bit on you too.” he smiles wiping at my face.

“How did it go out there?” I ask pulling back to look him over, scanning for any injuries.

“Very good.” he nods and I can still feel the adrenaline pouring off of him. “You and Silverwing did so well. Amazing to be honest.” he showers me with praise causing my cheeks to redden under the blood.

“Thank you.” I reply bashfully.

“Blushing like I didn’t watch you stab a man in the jaw.” his eyes worship me as he shakes his head.

“You are such a fool for doing what you did.” my eyes narrow on him remembering the start of this.

“I was willing to listen to what he wanted until he brought you into it.” he says approaching me. “I told you that you’re mine.” he says only audible for me.

“Ben-“

“You as a person are worth more than any army. Or any kingdom. Or any realm.” he whispers to me. “I would’ve fought alongside all of them if it meant I could stay by your side.” his eyes scan my face as it softens.

My hands reach up to bring his face down to mine. I place a soft kiss on his lips and pull back to look up at him. He captures my lips once more and pulls me tightly to him. Men begin to cheer and clap around us much to my embarrassment. I pull back giggling as he continues to pepper kisses around my face.

We separate and begin to assess the losses. We were fortunate not to take many causalities or injuries. Ben’s most trusted men take the castle at Stone Hedge and raise my mother’s banners in the usurpers stead. Once the castle is deemed safe we walk through the gates.

Upon entering the castle we have a servant lead us the council chambers and see if there was any information left about the Greens movements. Ben’s advisors join us for a debriefing and I quickly write out a note to send to Jace of our victory in the taking of Stone Hedge and raising an army.

Ben dismisses his advisors and then it’s just the two of us lingering. I take in his bloodied state and shake my head. I know I’m not in a much better state either and begin to rise to seek a servant to make me a bath.

“Where are you off to?” Ben is quick to rise at my side.

“To find a bath. I suggest you do the same.” I raise an eyebrow to him as a smile plays at my lips.

“We could bathe together.” Ben whispers against my lips.

“Mm, come find me once you’re clean, Lord Benjicot.” I smirk against his lips and then slip out of the council chambers leaving him alone.

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A moan slips from my lips as I sink into the hot water. I scrub at my skin and splash water against my face watching the water turn pink and then maroon. I pick my nails clean and once I’m satisfied I rise out of the water wrapping a towel around my body. I groan as I remember the only thing a servant could seem to find me is a sheer slip.

I throw my towel to the ground and huff out as the slip only reaches to the top of my thighs. I make my way over to the vanity and begin to take my braids out. I praise the gods that my hair was spared from the blood. I shake my hair out helping relieve some of the tension that remains. I begin to make my way to my bed as there’s a knock at my door.

“Yes?” I ask from the other side of the door not wanting to be seen in such an exposed state.

“I’m clean.” Ben chuckles from the other side of the door. I crack open the door and take in his freshly bathed state.

“Of course they’d be able to find you proper clothing.” I roll my eyes and allow him in.

“You are absolutely divine.” Ben’s eyes finally land on mine after drinking in my exposed body.

“You clean up nicely yourself.” I appreciate his clean face and body as he stalks over to me.

“My Princess.” he breathes out as he kneels before me, his breath fanning across my thighs.

“Hmm?” I hum, looking down at him as my fingers travel through his hair.

“May I taste you?” he asks softly as his hands trail up my bare legs.

“Please, Ben.” I reply breathlessly nodding my head.

As he rises from his knees, he takes my slip with him. I stand before him completely bare as his eyes dart across my body. I help him remove his clothes as we make our way to the bed. He pushes me on the bed when the back of my knees hit it. He kneels before me once more and pulls my core directly to his awaiting mouth.

“Fuck,” I cry as his tongue lashes against my clit.

With every swirl of his tongue my hips are rising off the bed. One of his hands finds its way between my thighs and he teases two fingers at my entrance. His slowly pushes his two digits in as whimpers fall from my mouth. He begins to pump in and out of me slowly as my hips grind onto his face and hand.

“Ben, please,” I whine as he begins a fast pace.

I lose myself to the pleasure as my moans travel throughout my chambers. My thighs quake at his relentless pace as his name pours from my lips. I explode around his fingers as his tongue continues to lick softly at my clit.

“Ben,” I breathless sob as my hand pulls his hair harshly away from my sensitive bud.

“You taste so good, I could eat you all night.” he places soft kisses on my thighs.

He snakes his way up my body and claims my mouth in a heated kiss. I feel his hardened length slide through my wetness causing me to whine. He chuckles against my lips as my hips continue to squirm.

“Are you ready, my Princess?” he whispers against my lips as he lines himself up at my entrance.

“Yes, please,” I arch my hips up to his begging for friction.

A moan tears through me as he slides into me. He wastes no time and fully pushes himself into me. The stretch of him causes my eyes to screw shut as I focus on the feel of him. I begin to slowly rock my hips once I’ve adjusted and he claims my lips once more as he starts to move his hips.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” he plants against my lips as his pace increases.

My legs wrap around his waist as I cling to him as he continues to pull pleasure from my body. His hips snap into mine at the new angle, stealing my breath. Our breathes become one as our hips meet in a rhythm that has us both panting. Pleasure washes over me, catching me off guard as my nails dig into Ben’s shoulder.

“Fuck, princess.” he grits through his teeth as he keeps pounding into me.

Tears begin to prick at the edges of my eyes from the pleasure he’s repeatedly wringing from my body. One of his hands slide between us and attach to my sensitive bud. I cry out and clench around him and he groans into my neck. I feel him begin to fill me as his hips falter and I explode around him once more, his name falling from my lips as if it’s the only word I know.

“You did so good for me, my Princess.” he whispers as he slowly pulls out.

He pulls me to his side and covers us with the blankets. I curl into his side and hum at his words of adoration and praise. My eyes begin to feel too heavy as I allow sleep to consume me.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Part 2

full masterlist here

ongoing aemond fic plug tho

#bloody ben smut #bloody ben x reader #benjicot x reader #benjicot blackwood x reader #benjicot blackwood #fancast bloody ben #x reader smut #hotd smut #hotd fic #hotd fanfic #benjicot blackwood smut #jace velaryon #baela targaryen

1K notes · View notes

littlemissmelodie · 4 months ago

Text

⭑Under the Stars⭑

!Onyx Storm spoilers!

Pairing: Ridoc Gamlyn x fem!Reader

Summary: Tagging along with Quest Squad to the Isle kingdom Y/n is nervous to confront her feelings for Ridoc. Realizing that she has forgotten her sleeping bag she is left with few options. Sharing with her squadmate proves to be the only available one. An outcome neither of them ends up having too much complaint about. Only problem, they are surrounded by the rest of their pers.

Warnings: ‼️(MDNI) 18+ explicit content‼️, smut, p in v, smut with feelings, swearing, fem!reader, unprotected sex, public sex, fingerring, edging, (very) light exhibitionism and voyeurism, dry humping, praise kink.

Note: This is my first ever smut published and English is not my first language. So please be kind. Other than that, enjoy.

Word count: 3k

After bidding good night to the rest of Quest Squad, as Ridoc insists on calling it, I make my way to my luggage. At the edge of the clearing Èisdeachd is standing, along with the limited amount of items I brought with me. Finding my sleeping bag in the tiny pine of luggage should be no match.

Annoyance takes over when I can't seem to find it. I search through my memory from when I was packing. Quickly I come to realize that I must have forgotten to bring it with me. Fuck.

I weigh my options as I continue to search just in case. 1. I accept defeat and curl up close to Èisde, hoping her warmth will be enough.

2. I ask Ridoc if we can share, taking the opportunity to finally make a move after seven months of denying my attraction.

3. I ask Aaric, who I have slept with before, and will probably be fine with sharing a sleeping bag.

Yep, three it is. No way I make a move on Ridoc this early in our travels. “Coward.” Èisde says amused, making me huff in annoyance.

“Thanks for the input. But I would prefer for the next two weeks to not be awkward.” The thought of having to spend the rest of our island visits in strained silence makes me mentally gag.

“I'd advice you look behind you.” Spinning around at her statement I expect to see caos causing me to be confused at first. Then I spot Aaric beside Molvic already fast asleep. Damn it. Option one it is.

“No rider of mine cowers from confrontation.” Èisde growls, then takes off into the sky.

“You find way too much amusement in this!” I yell through our mindlink, but her shields are already up. Stupid dragon.

“I heard that!”

Despite the many months spent with flirty banter and suggestive comments none of us had ever acted on it. I was therefore terrified of the thought that he might not think of it as anything more than just that.

With a deep breath I turn towards Ridoc who's only a few meters away. “Uhh Ridoc, it seems like I have forgotten my sleeping bag. Would you mind sharing?” I force my voice to be confident. It would be horrible if he knew how nervous this interaction makes me.

With a big cocky grin Ridoc locks his eyes with mine. “Of course not, princess. I'd share a bed with you any day.” Not only is his tone flirty, but he ends his statement with a wink.

The audacity of this man. Suppressing my blush I playfully roll my eyes at him. “Ladies first.” He points to the small sleeping bag. This is gonna be a tight squeeze.

“I'm not sure this is made to fit two people.” I mutter as I crawl halfway into it, leaving everything but my boots on. Slowly Ridoc begins to climb in behind me, using my shoulder to keep his balance. My breath hitches when I feel his warm breath fanning against my neck.

“Then we better move as one.” His voice is low and suggestive when he responds to my complaint. The hand that has now moved to rest at my waist not helping the growing feeling of need.

I shuffle downwards to put myself in a lying position, but freeze as I hear a sharp intake of air from Ridoc, followed by a tightened grip close to my boob. The thought of him being equally as affected by the situation as myself makes my confidence grow. “Sorry.” I whisper, not really meaning it.

He clears his throat before answering. “No worries.” Then he slides down beside me, placing one arm around my midsection. How am I gonna sleep with his mouth this close to my neck?

The sleeping back is tight, leaving almost no place for movement. Its thin fabric provides barely any cushioning from the ground, making me wiggle in place to find a more comfortable position.

A groan is heard from behind me. “I would suggest you stop moving before I do something we both might regret.” His husky voice makes me shiver in anticipation. The suggestion in his warning makes me scream inside. I'm not sure I can control my own arousal for much longer.

I turn my head, causing my jawline to brush against his lips. The bulge I feel against my ass urges me on in my new found conquest. Wiggling a bit more I answer him in an innocent tone. “Don't you want me to be comfortable?”

“I mean it, princess. Don't start the game if you're not ready to finish it.” He almost moans, his lips and teeth gracing my skin. His hand that previously rested around me has now moved lower, fumbling with the edge of my shirt. Butterflies swarm in my stomach. Man does he know what he is doing.

“Ridoc…” I whine, growing more and more desperate for his touch. I angle my head in hope that he gets the hint. One of my hands reaching behind me to trace over his hip.

“Fuck it.” He mutters, immediately attacking my neck with his mouth. A stifled moan leaves me in response, spurring him on even more. A trail of marks would surely be visible tomorrow if he continues at this rate.

Meanwhile his hand has taken his way fully under my shirt, brushing the underside of my boob. “Is this okay?” I nod eagerly, not trusting my voice to speak for me.

“Use your words, love.” He halts everything he was doing while waiting for my answer.

“It's okay.” The sudden feeling of his hand kneading my boob in combination with his lips on my neck has sounds of pleasure leaving me. No man has business making me this wet with just some light touches and kisses.

“Shh, princess. As much as I love hearing how I’m affecting you, I'm also selfish and want to keep them to myself.” I stiffen when I remember the presence of the rest of Quest Squad. But the thought is quickly forgotten when Ridoc finds a sweet spot behind my ear. “Good girl.” he praises when I bite back the moan that threatens to escape me.

The more he abuses by breasts and neck in all kinds of ways, the more impatient I become for his fingers to grace my heat. Deciding to take things into my own hands, I begin to grind against his large erection.

“Y/n-” he growls into my ear. With surprising ease, despite the tight sack around us, he turns me around to face him. Before I can react his lips smash against mine, moving in a passionate and needy kiss.

With one hand in my hair he holds my head steady as he takes my breath away with greedy kisses. The other hand moves down to my core, leaving small, teasing touches through the fabric.

I'm practically panting against his lips, bringing up my own arms to tug at his curls. The gesture earns me a small moan, making me grin in response. Oh, how I love the sounds he makes for me.

My eyes are heavy with pleasure, but it doesn't stop me from observing Ridoc's. Pupils dilated and a few shades darker than normal. The hunger with which he’s watching me seems like something taken out of a wet dream. Never in my 22 years of living have I witnessed such arousal in somebody's eyes.

“Please Ridoc-” Desperation for release crawls up on me. The coil in my core pulled tight. At this stage I’m not really sure how I keep my whimpers and moans to myself, or if I do it at all.

“Please what, princess?” The teasing tone he holds only fuels my fire, his fingers working even more efficiently than before.

“So close Ridoc… please.” A change in speed makes me almost come on the spot. This causes a loud moan to leave me, but the thoughts of potential onlookers are long gone.

“That doesn't answer my question, love. Tell me what you want.” Gone is the light hearted, flirty gentleman I’m used to. But God do I love this new side of him. Frustration of being denied my orgasm gnaws on me, but I can't deny that I find it very sexy.

“I want to come, Ridoc. I beg you… Please.” My words come out straind and mostly in whines. The sensation of his finger rubbing me through my trousers making me see stars.

“So pretty when you beg for me. All needy and desperate for my touch.” he whispers in my ear. “Now come for me, my love.” His praise and command leaves no room for argument as I come on the spot. The heavenly sensation of orgasm taking over all my senses.

Ridoc kisses me through it to muffle the moans that escape my swollen lips. His hand is however quick to continue its adventure. Lowering my pants enough to get his hand inside with ease. As I slowly come back to earth from my ecstasy induced state I realize what he is doing.

“So beautiful when you come for me, princess.” He praises in an arousal-laced voice, watching me with hungry eyes. “Not so good at keeping quiet though. What should we do about that, huh?” Though the question seems rhetorical at first, his challenging gaze tells me otherwise.

“I don’t kn-” I'm cut off by the sharp sensation of over stimulation as Ridoc rubs my clit, now without fabric in between. A series of gasps leaving me to prove its effect. He holds me tight as I wiggle to get away from it. Not that I'm really able to anyway, seeing as the sleeping bag seems even smaller than before.

“Too bad…” His other hand trails delicate touches over my body. “I guess I will have to decide myself then.” He slows the pace on my clit, inserting one finger inside me. The new placement does nothing but keep me needy. My whine is returned by a grin of satisfaction, proving that he got the desired outcome.

Releasing one of my hands from the tangle that is his hair, I move it down to his dick. In hope that the teasing I do to him provides me more pleasure, I begin to trace it through his pants. The gesture earns me a quickened breath, but he keeps the torturous pace with his hand. I then move on to unzipping his pants, pawing his erection through his boxers instead.

He growls, grabbing hold of my hand and holds it behind my back. “Only I do the touching tonight, love.” I whine and move to use the hand still in his hair to take over my conquest, but he is quick to grab it, giving me a warning glare.

Withdrawing his hand from my core he releases his cock from his pants, pushing down my own just enough to get better access. “Now be a good girl and keep quiet.”

With that he slams into me, giving me no time to adjust. I bite back the loud moan that threatens to escape me, not wanting to test the waters further. Every thrust takes my breath away, leaving me panting in no time. “Oh God-” The moan slips out of me involuntarily

“I'm honored… Mmm fuuuck, princess. You feel so good, squeezing my cock with your pussy…” Interrupted by my own devlish attempt at distraction by contracting my pelvic floor he starts over. “...I’m honored that you think of me that highly. But Ridoc works just fine, love.” Though my eyes are closed I can hear the amusement in his voice. It's strained and much deeper than normal, making the butterfly in my stomach flutter.

Forcering my eyes open to look at Ridoc I see that he himself is struggling to keep quiet. His eyes meet mine, the heat in them mirroring my own. I gasp as his thumb finds my clit, making me strain against his hold on my wrists. A glare is directed at me, and he tightens the hold. Maybe enough to leave a mark.

He seems to realize this too. His brown eyes flare with possessiveness and a oh so sexy smirk spreads across his face. My reaction does nothing but boost his cockiness. Our staring contest is interrupted by a loud hiss from the both of us. The length of his cock stretching me further than ever before.

“Fuck… I could spend forever watching you take my cock like this.” His breath is hot against my ear. I hum in response letting a small moan leave me when he increases the pace. Every thrust hits the right spot deep within me. I want to scream out in pleasure, but hold it back. My lips now swollen and aching from all the times I've taken them between my teeth to stop a moan.

“Mine” Teeth sink in behind my ear. Oh God. “Who do you belong to, princess?” His voice is demanding, and I live for every second of it.

“You, Ridoc. I belong to you.” Though my breath is ragged, my statement comes out with certainty. His lips connect with mine, hard and desperate. Within the next moment he releases his semen inside of me, our kiss muffling the heavenly sound that leaves him.

The feeling of his cock pulsing inside me has me seeing stars, a reoccurring thing this night it seems. His forehead rests against mine as he comes down from his high. “I hope you didn't expect me to let you come after disobeying me, princess.” He taunts in a hoarse voice, making me whimper.

“Aww, did someone think there wouldn’t be consequences to their actions? Tsk, tsk, tsk.” He clicks his tongue in feigned pity.

“Here’s what's gonna happen. I will make you come alright. Bring you to the edge over and over again. And you are gonna tell me, every time, when you are close. I'm gonna make you beg for that release like your life depends on it. Only then will I allow you to give into it.” Fuck. I’m down bad. Who would have thought that sweet little Ridoc was such a freak.

He brings his hand down, beginning to run small circles around my bundle of nerves. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” I nod in response, dismissing his concern. He grabs my jaw, making me look him in the eye. “I'm serious Y/n. You have to tell me.” His tone is gentle, yet demanding.

“I promise I will tell you.” My statement is followed with an impossibly long while of edging. Ridoc has me making sounds I didn't know I was capable of, all while muffling them to not earn the attention of others.

I quickly lose count of the times Ridoc has me close to the edge. All I know is that as much as I hate the endless teasing, I love it just as much. The world around us has faded away since long, all that matters is Ridoc’s filthy words and fingers.

“I don't think you understand how beautiful you are right now. All hot and bothered, begging me to please you.” The praise is never ending with this man, something that has made me realize that I do in fact have a praise kink.

“Ridoc, plea-” I’m cut off by the familiar sensation of nearing the edge once again. He chuckles and temporarily removes his touch before starting over at a painfully slow pace.

“You're doing so well, love. Just a few more times, can you do that for me?” He leaves a trail of hot kisses down my neck as he brings me to the edge three more times. Always stopping when I beg to be given my release.

“Please, Ridoc- So fucking close Ridoc, please… I promise I've learnt my lesson… Let me come for you Ridoc… I promise I will be a good girl in the future, please.” The dance around the edge has me squirming, begging on a whole new level. Never in my life have I been so desperate for something, let alone someone.

“As you wish, princess.” He quickens the pace, having me strain against him out of over stimulation. It doesn't take long before I crash, screaming his name into his palm. The orgasm is unlike anything I've ever experienced, causing me to temporarily lose all senses but touch. My body spasm in Ridoc's hold as I continue to let out moans and whimpers that might cause people to wake up.

It takes time for my ecstasy mind to come back to reality. Breath heavy as I open my eyes to meet with Ridoc's. Lust and adoration is what watches me. Accompanied by a smile that screams self satisfaction, the man in front of me is all I could ever dream of. “Thank you.” My voice is small, worn out from the song of pleasure. I lean into his embrace, feeling myself already doze off from exhaustion.

“No need to thank me, love. Now go to sleep, you deserve it.” He leaves a kiss on my forehead, making me smile and nustle closer into his chest, breathing in his scent.

Before any of us have the chance to fall asleep, a grunt comes from beside us. I quickly turn my head, only to be met by Aaric who is now much closer than before. Standing only a few meters away he meets my eye. “Fucking finally.” He mutters, not breaking eye contact. His eyes are dark and lustfull, telling me he’s most likely very affected by mine and Ridoc's ever lasting endeavours. A quick look down and the bulge in his pants confirm my suspicion.

Nor me or Ridoc has the time to utter a word before Aaric turns around and walks away. I turn to Ridoc who meets my gaze. We both stifle a laugh, amused by the whole ordeal. The thought of him watching for God knows how long bothers me surprisingly little. Instead I feel a new found sort of excitement.

“Good night, Ridoc.” I turn around, pressing my back against him and close my eyes.

“Good night, princess.”

#ridoc smut #ridoc gamlyn x reader #ridoc x you #ridoc fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #ridoc x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing smut #onyx storm #iron flame #aaric graycastle #fourth wing fanfic

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glitter-tornado · 2 months ago

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Spring meeting

@colourful-serendipity "Huh... they're thieves who happen to have really beautiful ships, eyepatches, worn out clothes and... some quite good music?" Thalia shrugged. "I think that Obi likes them more for the whole aesthetic that the stealing aspect of it." Thalia blushed at Sparrow's praise. "I don't know if I can do that...", she mumbled. Until not so long ago, the one who had been her mate used to be the one protecting her from all harm - to the point that she doubted her own abilities to be able to save anyone. However... it was nice to hear that this particular fairy considered her to be strong enough to do so. "I would do my best." She twirled a piece of her hair on her finger. "Gotta admit, surfing does sound fun. I'd like to learn to do that, too." She gave Rowan a little grin. "And I think that you'd look incredible surfing the waves, too. You've got the perfect body for that--" Thalia froze when she realized how bold those words were. She blushed deeply and looked away. What was she thinking to say something like that?!

Rowan cocked his head. "Ehehe, I can't swim that well," he said a little embarrassed.

"It's true," Sparrow said with a shrug. "Most spring fairies kinda panic in the sea. All their water is rivers and lakes, not much for surfing."

"Floating maybe. On giant lily pads," Rowan said. "It's nice to float down the river."

Rowan smiled at Thalia gently. He liked compliments like that.

#colourfulserendipity #rp #ic #Artistic Cuties #V: Dragon Defeated #Rowan #Sparrow #Thalia #Obi

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hawksbacktattoo · 4 months ago

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Forbidden | Sensei Wolf x Fem!Reader

Summary: As the Sekai Taikai began, someone catches readers attention

Warnings: p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving) choking, dirty talk, creamp!e

Word count: 2.2k

Not proof read

Today was the first day of the Sekai Taikai, everyone's nerves were all over the place. Your dojo had a lot riding on this opportunity and everyone could feel the tension.

Stepping into the arena, you taken in the sheer amount of dojos standing aside the mat. You had confidence in your students though, they trained hard to get to where they are now.

Feeling an arm drape over your shoulder, you look up to see your co-sensei Johnny Lawrence. You two have been running the dojo together for a while. "Loosen up y/l/n, the beginning is the easiest part." He reassured, giving your a pat on the back before heading off to chat with the students.

Making sure everyone had what they needed, you stood beside Johnny as he gave the students a motivational speech. Telling them that as long as they set their mind to anything, they'll get through it. Ending it with, "Cobra Kai never dies." And a hoot from the students.

The announcer spoke into the mic introducing the other dojos: Cobra Kai, Hornet's Nest, Furia De Pantera, Tiger Strike, Miyagi-Do and the Iron Dragons. You look at each group as he calls out the name. Eyes locking onto the Sensei of the Iron Dragons.

You couldn't help but stare, the low gaze in his eyes, the way he held himself. Holy fvck he was the sexiest man you've ever laid eyes on. Blinking a few times, you look away. He was competition, there's no way that could ever work in this circumstance.

The first few rounds went seemingly well, Cobra Kai coming out with most the wins. The Iron Dragons were posing a threat though, especially Axel and Zara. Robby taking a pretty hard defeat by Axel.

You look up at the score board seeing that the two dojo's were tied as the games concluded for the day. Taking a glance over at the Sensei of the Iron Dragons, he was already looking your way with a sinister grin on his face. He shot you a cocky wink before following his students out of the arena.

Sending the students up to their hotel rooms, you decided to stop by the food court before heading up for the night. Plate in hand, you hum as you fill it with different foods. Smiling down at your full plate you turn to sit down but immediately run into someone, dropping everything.

"Sh!t sh!t sh!t, I am so sorry. I wasn't paying attention." You frantically apologize, bending down to scrape up the spilt food. "No need to apologize, accidents happen." He spoke, accent deep with each word. You slowly look up from the mess in your hands. With the same grin on his face from before, he held his hand out to help you up. Taking it, you gulp and break eye contact. "Oh, it's you." You cleared your throat, wiping down you clothes.

"Oh I'm hurt, didn't know pretty girls spoke so foul." He teased, a smile creeping at the corner of his lips. "Let's not do that." You stated, heart beating heavy in your chest. You knew it was better to keep your distance from him. Turning back to the buffet of food, you grab a new plate.

He followed close behind, replicating your actions. "No need to play hard to get, I'll get through to you eventually." He poked again, slapping a piece of steak onto his plate. "Calm your ego, I don't want you like that." Lie, a straight up lie. Every time he spoke your knees trembled beneath you.

"We'll see Miss Cobra." He whispered over your shoulder as he walked passed you and out to the dining room. This was gonna be a lot harder than you anticipated.

The next day came and everyone was ready for the qualifying matches. Stretching before it was time to head back into the arena. Johnny gave yet another one of his pep talks before the students jogged into the arena. There were many more people in the stands than the day before.

The announcer repeated the rules from the day before, then called up the first match. Tory versus Sam, the crowd was going wild as the two fought. Tory triumphantly taking the win in the long run. That's how the rest of the matches went until the last two teams were left, Cobra Kai and the Iron Dragons.

Rolling your eyes, you followed your team back to the hotel. They had a couple days of free time before the championship matches took place.

Deciding not to keep yourself coped up in your room, you showered and dressed up nicely to take a stroll around town. It was your first time in Barcelona so might as well take the chance to explore.

Bag draped over your shoulder, you strolled through the Picasso museum. The sculptures taking your attention overall. Smiling at the concrete silhouette in front of you. "This is one of my favorites as well." That deep accent took you by surprise once again. Looking to your side, there he stood again. Now dressed in more casual clothing, he looked even better now.

"Oh so you're stalking me now?" You cross your arms over your chest. "Don't flatter yourself, I've been to Barcelona often. This just happens to be one of my favorite museums in town." He clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

Humming to yourself, you continue walking through the museum. You can hear his footsteps not to far behind your own. Stopping, you turn to face him again. "Is there something you need?" You huffed, the more he's around you the harder it becomes to deny your attraction to him.

"You of course." There it is again, that damn grin. His gaze low as he drank up your appearance. You just stood there speechless, his words taking you by surprise. "That can't happen." You finally spoke, making a B line for the exit.

As soon as you step outside, he grabs your wrist turning you around. "Why are you so against it?" His brows were furrowed from the sun beaming in his face. "Wolf, were literally competing right now. How would that make me look if people knew I slept with the Sensei on the opposing team?" You pointed out, taking your arm from him.

"It can be out little secret." He whispered, bending down to your level. "And you can call my Xiao baby." You were becoming drunk on his words, he knew just the right thing to say. You fought a battle in your head whether to back away or let this man do unspeakably things to you. "Fvck it, why not." You gave in, a smirk creeping across his lips.

You let him go up to his hotel room first before following shortly after. Knocking on the door, it swung open and you were practically yanked into the man's room. The door clinked close and his hands were already all over you. Hands cupping your breast over your shirt while his lips devoured yours.

You run your hands across his toned torso, causing him to pull from the kiss and yank his shirt off in one swift move. Gaze falling to his bare upper half, you shiver at the sight. Everything about him was so damn sexy. "Enjoying the view?" He teases, grabbing your hands and slowly walking you back to his bed.

Falling back on the mattress, he pulls you down with him. Straddling his hips, he smiles up at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before pulling you back down into a kiss. The way he held you felt so intimate, the way his fingers danced down your chest as he unbuttoned your blouse. Pulling it off without breaking the kiss.

He skillfully unbutton your bra in one go, throwing it to the side only to pull you closer. Your breast pressing against his bare chest sent shivers down your spine. "Let me treat your body right." He whispered in your ear before nibbling on it and pushing you to your back.

Kissing between your breast, he nipped at the flesh. "You deserve to be worshiped." He spoke against your stomach, tongue slicking down to the hem of the skirt you were wearing. His fingers hook into the sides of your skirt, slowly pulling the fabric down your legs while looking up at you.

Tossing it to the floor he kissed your pussy over the thin fabric of your lacey panties. Pushing your thighs further apart he nipped at your inner thighs as his fingers slipped past the thin fabric to feel your warmth. Looking back up at you, he took the top of the fabric between his teeth and pulled it down to your knees before fully pulling them off. Stuffing them into his pants pocket, he blows on your exposed cvnt causing you to shiver.

"No more teasing please, I need you Xiao." She mewed, bottom lip poking out in a pout. "Be patient princess, I want to savor every moment of this." His tone lowered just as he did between your thighs. Fingers gripping at the flesh when he began twirling his tongue over your cl!t. "mm yes.." you whine, hands flying down to grip onto his dark locs.

Tongue flattening over your cvnt, he gently sucked on your cl!t eyes gazing back up to you to watch how your body reacted to his touch. Your mouth was agape, eyes tightly shut as soft breathless moans escaped your lips.

He felt like heaven beneath you, every touch of his tongue to your cvnt making you want to scream out in bliss. Your eyes slowly open as you feel the bed dip beneath you. He was now hovering you, exposed completely.

Leaning back down to you, he pressed his lips back to yours, tongue slipping past your lips allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. You moaned into the kiss as he rubbed himself against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Gripping the base of his cvck, he slowly pushed himself into you. You let out a breathless whimper as he bottoms out. "That's right, taking me so well pretty baby." He praised, hand falling to your hips as he swirled his hips inside you. Giving you time to adjust to him stretching you out.

Giving him a nod, he begins thrusting into you deep. He knew just how to make you feel like you were on cloud nine. Speed increasing as he loses himself to how good you feel. One hand gripping your throat, he began animalisticly pounding into you. Deep moans spewing from his pretty lips.

"god you feel so good." You moan through gritted teeth, hands reaching up to pull him down to you. "Yeah? You like that?" He chuckled against your nape as he litters it with little marks.

"Let me ride you please." You beg, hands gripping at the sheets beside you trying to keep yourself grounded as he slams into you. Without a detest, he stops his abvse to your pussy. Moving up to the head of the bed, sitting up against the head board.

His gaze was so strong, you trembled as you climb into his lap, face burning at how deep he looked into your eyes. Biting down onto your bottom lip, hands resting on his shoulder as you lower your self on to his girth. Growling as he feels you suck him in and bottom out. "Pvssy feels like it were made just for me." His fingers felt so hot against your skin as he help guide you up and down his length.

"fvck Xiao.." You moan picking up the speed as you bounce atop him, knees digging into the mattress as you steady yourself. You can hear the frame of the bed bang into the wall when his hips thrust up into you, meeting your pace. "You looks so pretty on top of me." He moaned, cvck twitching as he neared his release.

You could feel yours stirring in the pit of your stomach, lewd moans filling the room as your head falls to the side, fingers digging into his shoulders. He feels his climax about to hit, holds your hips still and fvcks up into you.

Your orgasm following shortly after just as you fall into his chest. Breathing heavy, you move forward just enough for him to slip out of you. "Might need a second round later." He chuckled, slapping your *ss when you stood from the bed.

"Don't get ahead of youself Wolf." Slipping back into your clothes, you lean over the edge of his bed, pecking his lips. "See you in the arena."

The two days went by quickly since you basically stayed in your room the entire time. You just didn't want anything further to happened between you and him.

Throwing on your gi, you meet with the students and sensei Lawrence. "Damn someone had a good time." Johnny laughed, lightly punching the girls shoulder. Furrowing your brows, you looked at him confused. "What are you talking about?" He stared at you dumbfounded. "Did you not check the mirror once before leaving your room? Your neck looks like you were attacked"

Gulping, you chuckled awkwardly pulling the top of your gi up a little more. Looking across the arena you see Wolf looking directly at you. An accomplished grin on his face.

'That cheeky little shit.' You thought to yourself, rolling your eyes at him.

#cobra kai smut #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai #cobra kai x you #cobra kai x fem!reader #sensei wolf #senseiwolfsmut #feng xiao #fengxiaosmut #fanfic #senseiwolfanfic

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eraenaa · 1 year ago

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Parting Gift

Aemond Targaryen x Reader x Aegon Targaryen Tag List

Synopsis: Aegon asks for a parting gift from his younger brother and his beloved wife: One night with you in exchange for the throne.

Warnings: Threesome, ¿Manipulative Aemond?, Violence, Possessiveness, Jealousy, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Fingering, Oral Sex (f and m receiving), Squirting, Overstimulation, ¿Slight Degradation?, Not Proofread

Word Count: 5,017

A/N: Even I have to admit that this is one of the more steamier fics i made.

After the toll of war had subsided, your husband and his side reigned victorious—after two years of blood, battles, and betrayals, the greens had defied the odds and won the Dance of the Dragons. Your lord husband now serving as the hand of his brother, the King who still had not come to terms with his responsibilities to the realm. Often, you wonder who the true king was, Aegon or your husband Aemond, who had stood in his brother’s stead, taking all the responsibilities that were not meant for him.

You admired your husband’s efforts and initiatives, but you would admit you had missed him dearly. After moons spent away as he waged war in the Riverlands and his duties as hand and now substituting as king, the two of you had barely time for each other. It had not left your lips yet, but you were starting to feel neglected. You would hope that the nights would be spent with just you and your husband, but more often than not, you went to sleep alone, cold and needing in your bed. Only feeling Aemond’s presence when the morning was soon to come, and when you woke, Aemond was no longer there.

“Aemond…” You called as you clung to his side, the two of you in the sitting area, him reading countless scrolls whilst you clung to his side, trying to fight for his attention. You placed soft kisses on his neck and jaw, and before, he would always be quick to respond. However, now, he simply hummed and continued on with his duties. You feel yourself pout as your eyes shift between him and the scroll in his hands. You bit your lip and sighed in defeat, standing and making your way to your bed to sleep and not dwell on the growing hurt of your husband’s neglect. “Where are you going?” Aemond asked, voice still distracted, his hand clasped around your wrist. “Bed. I… I don’t wish to disturb you,” You say quietly and gaze into his lilac eye. Aemond sighed and shook his head, pulling you towards him, you landing on his lap and you circled your arms around his neck.

“Just one more scroll, and I’m all yours, my fire,” He whispered and connected your lips briefly, but it was enough to bring butterflies to your stomach and need to your core. You waited patiently on Aemond’s lap, scratching your nails gently at the back of his head as he read. You hear a deep, satisfied hum leave his throat as you do the action, and you feel your lips twitch into a smirk. You were reading along with what he read when you were caught by surprise as he intertwined your lips once more, the scroll he read discarded to the side. “I’ve missed you, my love,” You sighed against his lips, his hold on your waist growing tighter, and you felt his arousal through your shift.

“I should hope so… I apologize for my extended duties,” Aemond sighed and tucked a stray piece of your hair, watching intently as the sleeve of your shift drifted off. “You’ll make it up to me, won’t you, my love?” You hummed and entangled your fingers in his hair. Taking hold of the strap of his eyepatch to gaze at the sapphire in his eye. “That, I will,” Aemond smirked and moved you to straddle his waist.

You moaned as your lips locked again, his tongue fighting with yours. You lifted your waist as he undid and pulled down his breeches, his hard length already pushing against your entrance. “Aemond… gods, I’ve missed you.” You moaned as you sank down on his length. “Me or my cock?” He breathed out, amused, already overwhelmed at how you clenched around his length, missing the feeling of you. “Answer, little wife,” Aemond hummed as you bounced on his length, his head dipping down to take the bud of your tit, his teeth lightly nipping it, making you moan louder. "Both,” You answered. You would often touch yourself during the nights Aemond would be taken by his duties. Trying to imagine it was Aemond’s hands bringing your pleasure, but that was not enough to suffice your needs. You needed your husband desperately.

For the first time in a few moons, you and your husband were intimate and slept in your marital bed together. You slept that night contended, and when morning came, you felt your heart double as you still felt him holding you against his chest.

You smiled and raised your hand to lightly trace his brow, “Good morning,” You smiled as Aemond’s eye twitched open. “Indeed it is,” He whispered and dipped down to kiss your lips, moving you to rest your whole body atop his chest, making you let out a small laugh. You inhaled his scent deeply, savoring him. “My love?” You called, and you traced the contour of his chest; Aemond hummed. “Will you do something for me?” You asked shyly. “I will do anything and everything for you,” Aemond replied without hesitation, your smile growing wide at his words. “Can… can we spend more time together?” You asked quietly. “I’ve just noticed that the time spent with just us has grown scarily scarce… and I’ve missed you greatly, Aemond.” You pouted, and Aemond sighed.

“I admire how you tend to your duties meticulously… almost stubbornly, in fact.” You say, and Aemond laughs, “But you have a duty to me as well.” You cautiously added. Aemond sighed and ran his hand through your hair, trailing down your back, making gooseflesh rise to your skin by the touch of his cold hand. “I apologize, my fire, that my duties had led me to neglect you,” Aemond softly said as you traced the scar on his cheek. “So, will you spend the day with me?” You asked hopefully, but the smile on your lips slipped as Aemond let out a grievous breath, hating to see the disappointment in your eyes.

“I just… I have prior engagements this week, little wife. But I swear to you, by the week’s end, I am completely yours.” Aemond quickly said, trying to relieve the disappointment in your eyes. Aemond kissed your pouted lips, “Very well then,” you sighed and removed your weight from your husband to get ready for the day.

Later that day, you found yourself in the gardens, a bit sullen as you spent the day alone once more. Before, you would spend the days with Helaena, but you were left utterly devastated when during the war, her madness took her— the Red Keep mourning her deeply for moons to come. Aegon watched as you solemnly walked through the flowers, your smile he had grown to admire was gone, and he was alarmed as he had not seen it for a while. Aegon knew he should attend to his duties, that his brother and the small council were already waiting for him, but he could not hinder himself as his feet carried him towards your direction.

You hear shuffling behind you, and you quickly turn, your eyes locking with violets. “My king,” you curtsied as you saw Aegon. He smiled, “How many times must I tell you, no titles are needed when it comes to family, sister,” He said and stepped closer to you. You gave him a small smile and nod, “How are you, brother? I heard that the realm has been proven to be quite… demanding after the war.” You asked as he offered his arm for you to take, escorting you through the gardens; oh, how you wished Aemond was the one escorting you— but you would take any company offered.

“Indeed it has… though I am quite fortunate to have my brother as my hand, Aemond has always been the one keen on such matters,” Aegon answered, inhaling a deep breath of your scent as a gust of wind came. You always smelt so lovely, Aegon thought. A calming scent, and he wondered if it were the reason his brother would soften every time you were in his presence. Or perhaps it was just your whole being, sweet and serene.

“Yes, quite keen,” You say, and Aegon is quick to notice the sadness in your tone. “You do not approve?” He questioned, and you could not even have it in yourself to lie through your teeth. “It is just… I miss him. With the moons spent apart, I thought at least we would spend some time together, but he was quickly ushered to his duties.” You confessed, and Aegon pursed his lips. He, too, knew the plight of the duties of the realm, and though he had already fought the war, the throne was one thing he had never wanted. He thankfully had his brother to rely upon, Aemond catching the duties of king as well as hand. However, he did not expect you to grow so… sullen about your husband’s extended duties.

After a few more moments in the privy of the gardens, Aegon reluctantly departed from your company, knowing he must attend to at least one matter for the day. He ventured towards the room of the small council, hindering the guards from opening the door, for he eavesdropped upon the conversation held when he was not present. Aemond had always commanded the room, and it would seem that even in the king’s absence, his presence was not missed. He stood there for a few minutes, noting how productive his brother and the lords were, a matter they cannot do when he is present.

Aegon drew in a deep breath before nodding for the guards to open the doors and as he walked in, it would seem their meeting was done. The Lords and masters stood to take their leave, surprised by the presence of their king. Aegon nodded along as they passed him, and his brother sat in his place, his persistent scowl adorning his face. “You are incredibly late… we have finished the matters for the day,” Aemond said sternly, not bothering to stand from the seat Aegon did anything to deserve. “I apologize; I was taken by your wife… accompanying her in the gardens,” He spoke and watched as Aemond’s nose flared and his fists clenched.

“You should pay more attention to attention to her, brother. You are fortunate enough to have a wife so eager to be in your presence,” Aemond clenched his jaw at his brother’s words, hinting longing in his tone. Aemond’s vision was impaired, but he was not blind to miss the yearning of Aegon for you. They had known you since childhood, and ever since, Aegon was always enthralled by your presence, mystified to be with you, but your heart and attention were always on Aemond. Aemond knew not what he had done to be blessed by such adoration from you, but he knew he would not be an ingrate to question it and squander it off.

“I would have time for my lady wife if the king tended to his duties rather than let me handle them,” Aemond spat as his brother stepped closer to him, noting that your scent had lingered on Aegon, making jealousy in him spike. How close were your proximity to each other?

“You had always been the one able to perform and solve the problems of the realm; why must I do it when I have no wish for such duties?” Aegon questioned and that only added to Aemond’s rage. “Because you are king!” Aemond almost yelled, abruptly standing from his seat. Aegon simply hummed, toying with the orbs on the table. “Aye, king,” He stated, not accepting his faith. “Perform your duties, brother— I am merely your hand, and I am tempted to step down for even I am overwhelmed by the demands of these two duties!” Aemond threatened, and Aegon sighed, shaking his head.

“What if I lessen it?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper, and Aemond frowned. “What do you mean?” The prince asked, and Aegon let out another sigh. “I shall lessen your duties; you no longer have to be the hand and king… just… just king,” Aegon stated confidently at his decision. He had no wish for duty or this life— he was unencumbered by a wife or children; hypothetically, he was a free man. He was free to do what he wished, but the crown was his only hindrance.

There were only a few moments in his life where Aemond was taken aback; him claiming his dragon, your first kiss, your wedding day and night, and his sister’s death, Aegon stepping down as king was now added to that list. “You cannot be serious,” He stated, unable to find the words. “I am,” Aegon replied with finality. “You know I never had the wish to be burdened by these duties. I was ready to sail off to YiTi but you and Cole had hindered me.” Aegon stepped closer to his brother, who stood still in shock, “Be the King, Aemond. Help me escape, and the iron throne is yours,” Aemond licked his lips, pondering over the proposition before ultimately nodding. Aegon felt a smile twitch on his lips, already feeling the weight of pressure off him.

“I’ll find you a ship,” Aemond stated, ready to perform the plan, but his brother took hold of his shoulder. “However, I do wish for a parting gift,” Aemond rolled his eye as he heard the tone of his brother’s voice. “What more could you want?” Aemond asked, straightening his back. “In exchange for the throne, I want your wife.”

Aemond did not hesitate before grabbing his brother by his collar, landing a punch on his jaw, and slamming his head upon the table. Aegon sadistically laughed, “Come now, brother,” He said in amusement. “Perhaps I should just kill you now and take the crown for myself,” Aemond mused, slamming Aegon’s head into the table once more, wanting to draw blood as Aegon had the audacity to want you. “And be a kinslayer twice?” Aegon hummed, “You were lucky enough your sweet wife still loved you even after starting the war— do you think she would still be able to forgive you if you kill your brother?” Aemond gripped his brother’s hair harder.

“Just one night, brother… share her for one night, and the throne will be all yours. She’ll be your queen and your son the heir to the throne,” Aegon played with Aemond’s desires. Aemond gritted his jaw and felt rage fuel him. He let out a breath and released his brother, “One night,” He gritted, and Aegon smirked as he stood. “And I shall be in observance.” He added, and Aegon nodded, expecting it. “Very well then, go, find me a ship, and I shall see you and your lovely wife when the moon is high,” Aegon smirked, already filled with desire and excitement to have you, even if it was just for one night.

“Aemond!” You say in surprise, sitting straighter on the settee as your husband returns to you earlier than you had expected. Aemond shut the door of your chambers as you rushed towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a kiss. Aemond turned lax in your arms, and he circled his arms around your waist. “Wha… why are you here?” You asked, and Aemond raised his brow. “It’s just… you usually return later in the night, though I am happy you are here,” You beamed, and Aemond could only kiss your lips as he could not disclose the reality of his early return.

Aemond led you to the sitting area, never parting your lips as he gathered the courage to tell you of the dealing made behind closed doors. You took in deep breaths as your lips parted, and you perched upon his lap. “Seriously, why are you here so early? The sun has barely set… is everything well?” You asked in concern as you saw apprehension in his lilac orb. “Aegon wishes to step down as king,” Aemond confessed and watched your eyes widen, but you were not completely in shock; in truth, you were just counting down the days before Aegon fully escaped his duty.

“I found him a ship, as he had ordered,” Aemond added, stalling as he had no clue how to tell you about their dealings. “When is he to leave?” You asked quietly, intertwining your hands with your husband’s. You could feel a slight sadness in him that yet another member of his family was to depart. “Before tomorrow’s early light,” Aemond said, and you nodded. “Then… you’ll be king?” You asked cautiously, thrilled that your husband would finally gain what he had wanted since he was a boy but dreading the demanding duties that come with it. You could only hope that with his council, he would not be completely burdened by the realm as he was now. “Aye,” Aemond nodded and cupped your cheek.

“However… my brother asked for a parting gift before he leaves,” He said, watching keenly every reaction present in your face. “Oh? What is it?” You asked and slightly frowned at the solemn and almost apologetic look on your husband’s face. “He… he asked for you,” Aemond bit his lip as your mouth parted in shock and your eyes filled with confusion. “What? Me? Y—you said ‘no,’ yes?” You asked in scandal, but you feel your stomach pit as your husband could not give you a reply, his eye going downwards to the floor. “Aemond… wh—“

“It’s just for one night, my love— and I shall be here to make certain he will not step a foot out of bounds,” Aemond whispered and felt his stomach twist as you stood and walked away from him. “You cannot be serious!” You almost yelled.

Aemond went to you and took you into his arms. “Just one night… after that, I will be king— you, my queen. Our children to be the heirs of Westeros.” Aemond tried to convince. You shook your head; in truth, you know you should feel offended that your husband had practically sold you off to his brother like a common whore in exchange for the throne, but you could not find yourself to be appalled by the dealings made. You sighed heavily and shook your head.

“If I am king… I will have more time to be with you, having installed a council that I know is competent and will not waiver under small dilemmas— unlike the pathetic lords my brother had chosen. Isn’t that what you wanted, my fire? For us to spend more time together? Have you not said it yourself that you had missed me terribly, hm?” Aemond tried to sway your mind. He was truly blessed that you were always one to believe and fall for his words.

You took a deep breath, “Are… are you certain of this— you would let your brother f—fuck me?” You said hesitantly, watching as his eye darkened and his jaw clenched. Aemond had always been a jealous man, never one to share. You recalled the time he had cut the hand of a lord for he had touched you. It was quite a severe reaction, especially when you considered you and Aemond were not anything but childhood friends at the time. Aemond could only nod, and you rested your hands on his chest. “Very well then, I shall do as you wish.” You agreed. Aemond had told you that he would do anything and everything for you, and you supposed you would do the same for him.

When the hour of the owl came, you sat nervously in yours and Aemond’s shared bed as he was sitting before you by the sitting area. Husband and wife waiting for the king. With each moment Aemond stared at you, perched upon your bed, the candlelight illuminating you, the doubts in him multiplied. When he heard you let out a shaky breath, his mind had now convinced him not to go through with the plan, but before he could take back what he had devised, a knock sounded out through your room, and Aemond knew that the both of you were past the point of no return. You chewed on your lip as your husband downed his wine and went to unbar the door for his brother.

Aegon was greeted by the scowling and enraged face of his brother as he opened the door. “Try not to put a damper on my mood, little brother— this is my last night after all.” Aegon mussed as his eye went to you, who sat on your bed, his cock already twitching at the sight of you only in your shift.

You swallowed thickly as the two Targaryen brothers stood before you. You shuddered as you felt Aegon’s eyes assess your frame. You turned to Aemond, and there was a steely look in his cold lilac eye. “You will not kiss her lips; it is only meant for me.” Aemond gritted. “You are no fun, brother,” Aegon drawled, his mind already consumed by the thought that he would finally get to taste and feel your plump lips upon his. “But very well, I shall do the orders of the future king,” Aegon teased and stepped closer to you. You bit your lip and turned to Aemond, him going back to his seat as his brother started to have his way with you. You swallowed thickly and bit your tongue as you felt Aegon place kisses on your neck, his fingers draping off the sleeve of your shift.

You were unusually quiet, Aegon thought. When you and Aemond would couple, he would often hear your moans of pleasure ring through the halls. Aegon doubled his efforts, for he was detrained to elicit the same reactions from you. You let out a small whimper as he took one of your breasts into his mouth, his teeth gently nipping the bud and his tongue soothing it. Aegon palmed himself as rested his head between your ample breasts, trying to ignore the burning stare of his brother. You let out a breath as Aegon placed kisses on the underside of your tits, his lips trailing downwards and downwards until he knelt between your cunt. “Your wife can be as quiet as she wants… but her cunt cannot conceal her arousal for me,” Aegon smirked and turned to Aemond, who violently griped the armrest of his chair.

Aegon did not waste another moment before burying his face in your cunt, and you harshly bit your lip as you felt a moan wanting to escape. You looked downwards and watched as Aegon ate your cunt, the sounds so lewd and made your cheeks flush further. It would seem his years of depravity did teach him well on the art of pleasure. Your eyes shifted to your husband, who had been watching you try earnestly not to moan and show your pleasure. Aemond sighed as he saw your eyes well in tears. He sighed and gave you a nod, and Aemond shut his eye as you fell back on the featherbed and finally let out your moans. Your hands tangled in Aegon’s shorter hair as he lapped on your cunt. “So fucking sweet… it is no wonder my brother is so addicted to you,” Aegon moaned and inserted his finger in your cunt, groaning at how quickly you clenched at the digit. He sucked at the pearl of your cunt and relished the way your moans grew louder.

Aemond knew he should not find pleasure, let alone tolerate the scene before him, but he could not help but palm his length as he gazed at you wrapped in pleasure his brother gave. He had never seen you in such a way, for he was always too focused on bringing you pleasure. He watched with amazement at the way your back arched, your lips agape, and you spewing out moans. The way you gripped the sheets and the way your hips writhed against Aegon’s face.

Aegon licked his lip as he brought you to your climax, your heavenly taste still lingering on his tongue. Aegon stood before you and unlaced his breeches, and took out his length. He wanted to turn to his brother and give him a teasing smirk as he would fuck you, but he could not find the strength to tear away his gaze from your face that was flushed and contorted in pleasure. Aegon grabbed a hold of your thighs and pulled you closer to him, hissing as your wrapped your legs around his waist and the tip of his cock entered your tight, warm cunt. “Seven hells…” Aegon muttered as your cunt took him in. You breathe out as you feel him fully sheathe himself inside you. His cock was not as big as Aemond’s, but he was still well-endowed, and you still felt somewhat overwhelmed by the size of him.

Aemond only focused on your face and moans as his brother fucked you. Fucking his fist, imagining he was in Aegon's stead instead. Aemond could not bear it any longer. When he heard his brother’s heavy breathing and observed Aegon’s thrusts become sloppy, Aemond stood and pulled his brother back. You whined as Aegon’s cock abruptly slipped out of your cunt. Through the haze of pleasure, you propped yourself on your elbows and observed how two Targaryen brothers stood before you once more, your legs parted and your cunt in full display for them.

“You overstep, brother. You will not spill your seed inside my wife,” Aemond gritted and pulled you towards him; you moaned loudly as you felt the tip of his cock gliding through your slick folds. Aegon groaned and shook his head but did not quarrel with his brother. You turned your head to the side when you felt Aegon kneeling by it, him placing his cock between your lips, and you turned to your husband for permission if you could suck his brother’s cock. Aemond gave a reluctant nod, and it was only then did you parted your lips.

Aegon groaned loudly and tilted his head back as you hallowed your cheeks and sucked his length. Your teeth lightly grazed his skin, pain mixing with pleasure just as he enjoyed it. “Fuck— perhaps, brother, I shall be rid of you and take your wife as mine instead,” Aegon moaned in the pleasure you gave, but you abruptly stopped at his words. Aemond smirked at your loyalty; he knew what his brother said was a jest, Aegon being forever unserious, but you did not take his words lightly.

Aegon looked down at your glaring eyes, his cock still in your mouth, but you seized any pleasurable movements. “It was a jest,” He clarified and tucked in a stray lock of hair. It took a moment before you resumed your action, your glaring gaze rolling back at the way Aemond thrust deep inside your cunt. Aegon was skilled in fucking, but not as skilled as your husband. For Aemond knew every part of you and had memorized every action that would bring you pleasure. Aemond was relentlessly thrusting against the sensitive spot in your cunt, and your moans only grew louder as Aegon reached down and drew circles upon your nubbin and his other hand pinching the bud of your breast.

You gagged against his cock, the tip of it hitting your throat. When Aegon felt your throat tighten around his length, he could not hold back any longer as he spilled his seed. He slowly took out his cock from your mouth and watched as you swallowed his spent with tear-filled eyes, hazy in pleasure he and his brother gave.

“Rub her faster,” Aemond ordered his brother, wanting to show what his wife was capable of— dangling something Aegon could never get. Aegon, still dazed by his climax, mindlessly obliged, and his ears rang with your loud moans. “Ae… Ae—“ You trialed as Aemond lifted one of your legs to rest on his shoulder. “Look how pleasured you are by us… you don’t even know who to call upon,” Aemond hissed as your cunt almost painfully clenched around him. Aemond reached forward and clasped his hand around your neck, the pacing of his thrusts fast and sloppy. “Show my brother your talent, my fire— show him how much of a whore you actually are,” You whimpered at Aemond’s words, but you knew it was all for your benefit because you sadistically liked it when he would be mean and callous with you when he fucked you.

Aegon felt his flaccid length quickly harden again as you reached your peak. Your eyes rolled back, your face completely flushed, and your cunt emitted a sloppy, wet sound that accompanied Aemond’s final thrusts. He watched his awe as you sprayed your release, Aemond smirking down at you in pride before placing a kiss on your lips. “You’re a fucking lucky bastard,” Aegon breathed out, watching as you caught your breath, your body slick with sweat and glistening under the candlelight. “That, I am,” Aemond smirked and gave you another kiss before turning to his brother.

“You got your parting gift. Now, leave us to rest— I shall fetch you when it is time for your escape.” Aemond said coldly, ushering his brother to the door. Aegon struggled to put on his trousers. He badly wanted to stay, to be in your presence for just a while longer but Aegon conceded, counting his blessings as his brother actually agreed to his request. Before Aemond could shut the door on his brother, Aegon hindered him. “Thank you…” It was off-putting to say such words, “I will miss you… but mostly your wife,” he jested, and Aemond was too tired to control the amused grin rising to his lips. Aemond nodded, “Take care, brother,” he said and watched Aegon turn on his heels and walk away, leaving the new king and queen of Westeros to find respite.

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n0cturnalflesh · 8 months ago

Text

The One Where Sylus Turns Into A Wanderer

Synopsis: Sylus gets hit with an attack that not only turns him into a wanderer but also makes him really horny??? Oh nooo what will you do? (wink wink nudge nudge)

Characters: Sylus x Reader

tw: Dragon Sylus, smut, p in v, breeding kink, praise, aphrodisiacs, unprotected sex, oral, tentacles

wc: 8.3 k

A/N: I'm a BIG fan of the theory(is it confirmed?) that Sylus is/was a wanderer at one point but I wanna see more content of him looking kinda scary. Love the idea of Sylus with cute horns and a tail but I'm thinking more like the wanderers we fight in deepspace trials - big, scaly monsters that barely look human. (I’m not not even a Sylus main lol sorry Zayne but duty calls)

“It recovered. Be careful.” Sylus charges forward, his evol twisting the wyrmlord wanderer and redirecting its fiery assault just out of the way from hitting you.

“I know, I know.” Your voice comes out hoarse, throat parched from the hour-long battle against a horde of mechanically enhanced Wanderers—an unwelcome gift from one of Sylus’ enemies. It wasn’t anything the two of you couldn't handle, but their durability in the field was at least 4 times that of regular wanderers. This was an endurance test.

“This better be the last one.” You grumble, Harrier 700s aimed at its maws as you dump Evol-enhanced bullets into its rocky flesh.

“It is.” Sylus warps to its side, taking a vicious hit before striking back just as hard. “Look at the fluctuations around it, they’re weakening. Anything that might come after this will likely be too weak to stand. This is their last card.”

It’s true, now that you take a closer look; the translucent shimmer that had been protecting every wanderer before this is now no more than a simple sparkle. Cocking your gun in your hand, you level the barrel to its heart, giving a brief glance to Sylus.

“Let’s finish this.”

Blood-red swirls of energy coil around your hands, leaving little tingles on your knuckles as the cold mist kisses your knuckles. With each shot fired, a shard of energy follows the bullet, driving it deeper into the Wrmylord. Sylus stays close to the beast, striking each bullet wound as his evol amplifies the force of your resonate-enhanced attacks. A powerful gust from its panicked wings nearly knocks you off balance, but you hold firm, standing against the wind. Your hair slaps across your face, nearly covering your vision but the red energy around your hands helps keep your aim. It’s almost dead— it has to be.

With each bullet, the wanderer staggers; each punch leaving it closer to the ground in defeat until the final shimmer of its enhanced defense shatters.

“Now!” You yell as you close in the distance, running until you’re side by side with Sylus. His evol energy swirls begin to coil stronger, wrapping around your entire body before channeling directly into your gun. With the dragon in your sights, gun up and facing its weakened body, you pull the trigger. At the same moment, Sylus charges forward, winding up his final strike and landing a crushing blow where your bullet landed.

The wyrmlord lets out a final, piercing scream before collapsing to the ground.

“Damn, I don’t want to see another wanderer for at least a month. Maybe more. Thoughts on a mini vacation Sylus?” You ask, wiping off your gun as you place it back in its holster on your waist.

A few seconds of silence go by. With no response from Sylus, you glance up from your holster just as it all goes wrong. A vibration on your wrist draws your attention, red letters glowing above your watch that read “Extreme Fluctuation - Evacuate Vicinity Immediately”. A low grumble shakes the ground, the sound echoing through the ground and reverberating so powerfully that you feel it rumble in your chest. Before you can react, a blinding flash of energy fills your vision.

“Fuck off!” You shake your head and reach for your gun, squinting against the brilliance but all you can make out are the wyrmlord’s glowing crooked eyes peering through the glare.

“Get back!” Sylus’ low voice cuts through the rumbling, and in an instant he’s standing in front of you, shielding you just as the light directs into a beam and strikes his chest. The moment it hits, everything stops. The beast collapses on the ground, its limbs going limp as dust creeps up its disintegrating form until nothing remains.

“Sylus!” Your voice breaks the silence, hands pressing against his sturdy shoulders until he turns to face you. “Are you alright?”

Despite the attack, he appears none the worse for wear, aside from tired and dirty from the battleground dust. His eyes are downcast, staring at his chest where the beam hit.

“Yes, I’m fine kitten. Must’ve died just before the beam could hit me.”

“Are you sure?” Worry laces your voice, “I could’ve sworn I watched that weird beam hit your chest.”

“Yes, I’m fine. Your eyes must be deceiving you. You should head on home quickly, book that vacation on my card. I’ll…” he trails off, looking back to where the wyrmlord disintegrated. “Stay behind to make sure no other wanderers come.”

Sylus’ eyes narrow as he looks around, his tone low and calculated. He shifts from foot to foot, unusually stiff as you notice the way he draws his shoulders in stiffly.

“Sylus?”

He bows his head down, turning to face away from you.

“Sylus, that beam did something to you didn’t it?”

An audible sigh escapes him, his breath slow yet his upper torso rises rapidly like its breathing entirely separate from his breaths.

“It… did. But it’s nothing I can’t handle, don’t you worry about me. Just leave me to deal with this on my own, you should go rest.”

He stands awkwardly, posture just a bit too stiff - like he doesn’t quite know how to hold his limbs. You lean towards him, eye glancing over his body to check for hidden injuries or changes. There has to be something, he wouldn’t be sending you off so easily if there wasn’t.

“Sylus, I’m not just going to leave because you said so. I’m a top hunter, why don’t you think I can help you?” You take a step forward, hoping for a closer inspection but he takes a step back as you do, keeping his face turned away.

“Excuse me?” Betrayal strikes you; how dare he go through months of coaxing and bonding just to leave you when he finally needs help for once? “Look at me.” You speak firmly, snatching his wrist so he can’t flee.

His body tenses at your touch, a quiet gasp escaping his lips. He could pull away if he wanted, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t move at all. He’s frozen still, his gaze fixed on the ground. You slide your hand down until you can squeeze his fingers; they feel unusually cold at the tips yet hot toward his palm.

Following the heat of his palm, your fingers trace back up his wrist, gliding along his forearm until they reach the edge of his sleeve. A wave of warmth pulses beneath his skin, following his veins, though the surface remains cold to the touch.

“Kitten,” His voice draws out low and raspy, leveled like he’s holding his composure just to talk. “Please, let me deal with this on my own. You don’t need to see this.”

Testing the waters, you caress over his chest and up until you hold his chin in your palm. He resists only for a moment as you tilt his head until his vibrant, glowing red eyes face you, laced with evol.

With brows drawn and tense, he shutters under your touch, eyes fluttering shut as he nuzzles deeper into your palm. For a moment, he seeks comfort there, but he pulls away sharply as if your touch suddenly stings. His eyes reek of evol, the glowing red so bright that it becomes hard to see his pupils. Yet the sensation of his evol never comes. You don’t feel that deep pull from within; don’t hear the voices of your deepest desires.

“Whatever that wanderer did to you, I won’t let you suffer alone. We’re in this together.”

He stares back, almost animalistic in nature, like he’s calculating how to react to your next move. His drastic change in personality becomes increasingly unsettling.

“Why are your eyes glowing like that? I don’t feel your evol.” You question, hoping a direct question might be an easier approach.

It seems to work, his gaze refocusing on you as he blinks a few times.

“It is…” he lowers his head, avoiding eye contact as he speaks, “returning me to a form I had hoped you’d never see in this lifetime.” Running a hand through his hair, he tilts his head up to look at the night sky, worries etched onto his face. The light of the moon shines on his pale skin and you can see a sheen layer of sweat on his forehead as he pushes his hair back.

“What does that mean?” Hundreds of questions pop into your head but that’s the one that comes out first before you can even think harder about what he said. A form? Form of what?

Sylus hums, voice uneven and hoarse as he keeps his head turned towards the stars. “Some time ago, which does not matter when, I was something else. Not… entirely as I am today.” He keeps his head tilted but lowers his glowing eyes to meet yours. “I’d since been able to restrict it, but it seems as though that wanderer’s attack was able to affect it.”

You stand your ground, holding eye contact. That’s not a complete answer, and he knows that. You stare back, not moving as he awaits a reaction that you won’t give him.

“I’ve never wanted it to come to this, because I know you won’t leave my side no matter what I say.” He continues, sad gratitude flashing on his expression for a moment, “You really won’t leave me to deal with this, will you?”

He’s not making sense. His words have told you nothing of the situation or his weird behavior. But raising your voice or pressing him further might escalate his behavior. Your heart aches at the thought of whatever is going through his mind as he loses his collected mannerism. He has done so much for you these past few months; proven your opinion of him wrong from the start and treated you so well. You will not let him be alone for this, whatever it is.

“No, I won’t.” You reply firmly.

“You never do.” He sighs, before doubling over to pull his arm close to his chest, hiding the skin from your touch.

“Sylus!” You cry out, taking a step towards him but he moves away as you come close.

“No.” His tone comes out calm despite the strain in his voice, “Don’t get close, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, Sylus.” You pause, observing the way he carries his limbs in towards himself like he’s trying to make himself look small. An impossible feat for such a large man. “I know you won’t because I know you would never dare to hurt me. I don’t know what you’re talking about or what you mean by this ‘form’ you’re reverting to, but I know that if it is still you at the core, you will not hurt me.”

It’s a lie. Sylus is a very scary man if you don’t know him well. Whatever he’s talking about clearly has him worried about hurting you, and if that’s something he’s concerned about, it absolutely gives you every reason to be alarmed. But you can’t just admit that. Not after everything he’s done for you —risking his life, taking hits meant for you, following you on pointless expeditions that far exceed the duties of the N109 Zone leader, even letting you hurt him. No, it’s your turn to take a risk for him. Prove to him that you trust him wholeheartedly.

Assuming a (hopefully) confident-looking stance, you hold eye contact with him and take a step forward, leaving no room for debate as you press into his personal space. He gasps at your touch, eyes glued to where your hand grabs at his arm.

“Please,” He grunts, “be careful. I don’t want to hurt you. Not…” His voice trails off just as you make contact with his skin. But it’s not skin. It's hard, rocky almost in texture but still molds to your touch as you squeeze it.

Not ready to look down, you raise your other hand up and cradle his cheek. “It’s okay.” Your voice comes out as a hushed whisper, and finally, you look down.

His arm below the elbow and hand are not human. The skin is jagged, flesh turned black and grey while red light seeps out from the lines of his veins. His fingers are longer than they should be, joints extended and bony as they lead to talons at the tips. These are the hands of a wanderer.

“Sylus, your form? A wanderer?” The look of raw insecurity in his eyes stops you from questioning. With his brows knitted and eyes glistening, his lips tremble slightly, parted as if struggling to form words. His chest rises and falls with shallow, uneven breaths. He looks like he’s seconds away from breaking down.

“So you’ve figured it out, Miss Hunter.” He speaks, emphasizing the nickname like he’s pointing out how your job is sworn to killing monsters like him. He’s spiraling, slight tension tugging through his body like he wants to break away from you but doesn’t want you to leave him at the same time. You need to show him that you’ll remain ever at his side.

“This doesn’t change my statement, I won’t let you go about this alone.”

He lets out a small laugh, although there’s no humor or joy behind it. “I appreciate your help, but you don’t deserve to have to be exposed to this side of me. You've seen enough wanderers to last you at least 5 missions in the last few hours alone. You said it yourself, you need a vacation away from us horrid monsters.”

“That was different.”

“How?”

“Because that wasn't you! You’re not just some beast that runs wild! Regardless of your form, there’s a ‘you’ deep inside. If you lose control, I’ll be here to make sure you don’t get caught. If anyone finds you, I’ll make sure they don't hurt you.”

“And if I hurt you?”

“You won’t.” Staring into his glowing eyes, you stand your ground. He needs to know this is a hill you’re willing to die on. “Listen, I don’t understand any of what’s going on, and you will explain everything to me when the time is right. But please, just shut up and let me be here for you.”

His jaw tightens before relaxing into a sigh. You run your fingers up and down his hardened palm, hoping to reassure him that this change does not change how you view him.

“If you won’t leave me, you should at least distance yourself from me. At least for the time being. I don’t if the attack has altered my state of mind.”

“Alright.” You give his hand a light squeeze, rubbing your thumb against his knuckles before turning to retreat to a nearby tree. Only he doesn't let you. As you turn to leave, rough talons grasp onto your wrist. He pulls you close to him, your back pressing up against his chest as he wraps his arms around your waist. They feel… different.

The rough, rocky texture has continued up his forearms. He’s hidden from your line of view, only his arms visible as they wrap your torso.

“Sylus?” Your voice trembles with uncertainty, but the only response is a low, guttural growl from behind you. In the stillness that follows, you notice the next sudden change; he’s growing. His hands, already massive compared to yours, now seem to dwarf you entirely. As he splays his left hand across your abdomen, his claws extend effortlessly to the back of your torso. His palm alone envelops your entire stomach.

The sharp rip of fabric echoes from somewhere along his back, followed by the rush of warm, heavy breaths against your neck—slowly, far too slow for any human. Wrapping your fingers around just one of his now enormous claws, you strain to fully grip it, prying his hand away with deliberate caution.

“I’m going to turn around now. And then you can tell me if you still want me to distance myself, okay?”

He doesn't answer, but he also doesn’t stop you from pulling out of his grasp. Gently, you free yourself from his hold. Drawing a deep breath, you prepare for what awaits. If he truly is a wanderer, is this his true form?

As you turn, there’s a deep, resounding thud—Sylus stepping back, perhaps anxious for you to see him like this. Finally, in the pregnant silence, you open your eyes.

He’s… gigantic. Towering close to nine feet tall, his presence is overwhelming. At first glance, not much seems to have changed—his face, his torso, still familiar; aside from the darkened, rocky skin leading from his hands and now his feet upwards. Through the tears of clothing struggling to hang off his growing body, the skin beneath remains a softer hue, though roughened, textured like stone.

Your gaze travels upward, from his exposed chest, straining beneath shredded buttons, to his face. Aside from the glowing red eyes and his change in size, the only new and noticeable changes are the two massive horns shooting out from behind his ears. —black as night, laced with swirling red energy tapering into sharp white tips. They curl around his face gracefully, flaring outward before narrowing into points that end near his chin. For such a beastly figure to cower, avoiding your eyes, almost elicits a strange tenderness—were it not for the seriousness of the moment.

“I’m not afraid of you.” You murmur, stepping closer and offering your hand. He doesn't take it, but he doesn’t pull away, allowing the space between you to close.

When he speaks, his voice is even deeper than normal, rasping out hollow as though unused to forming words in this form. “I’m holding back... slowing the transformation.” His eyes shut, pained. “But the attack... it may have triggered some... side effects.”

He kneels down until he’s level with you, large eyes roaming over you like he needs to memorize your body. “I wanted this to be different. You deserve better—dinner, gifts, a proper evening to show you how much I—”

“Stop deciding for me.” You cut him off. “You’re not making sense. What side effects? What dinner? What’s happening?”

His chest rises and falls heavily, beads of sweat forming along his brow. “I need you.”

“You have me.” you reply. He lets out a shaky breath, gaze slipping from your face to your body, over every curve you have and back up. He looks back to your face with a carnal, unrestrained desire.“No. I need you in ways that I should not take from you. I can endure this.” He groans. The side effect he mentioned is starting to make sense – an aphrodisiac.

But it doesn’t shake you. Stolen evenings and unexpected gifts, whispered messages between meetings and surprise plushies left just for you—this isn’t for nothing. You want him. You want to be the one who helps him.

“And I’m saying you have me.” you whisper, “however you need me.”

In an instant, he surges forward, capturing your lips in a fervent kiss, nearly knocking you off balance. His claws steady you, holding you close as heat floods through you, every nerve alive under his touch. This wasn’t what you expected, but the rush is undeniable. After weeks of tension, playful flirtation, and stolen moments, you undeniably want this. The circumstances don’t change the feelings that you’ve harbored for him.

His pace is feverish, lips crashing against yours with a desperation that steals your breath. With inhumane sharp teeth, he pulls at your bottom lip before releasing, his tongue brushes lightly over your mouth, hesitant, seeking.

Your hands, trembling slightly, move to his jaw before drifting upward, fingers curling around his horns. The moment you tug gently, his breath hitches, a low gasp escaping him. His control slips further, the weight of his form heavy in the air between you as he slowly pulls away, panting, eyes squeezed shut. His hands, shaking, rest on your waist, still fighting against the wildness threatening to consume him.

“Sylus, it's ok. You can let go, show me your true form.”

He rests his head on your shoulder, face buried in the curve of your neck as he lets out a hushed groan, panting heavily as you feel his weight around you.

“Ok, my love.” He whispers, voice trembling, giving you no time to respond before his body begins to shift. The sound of bones cracking reverberates through the space, jarring and raw. He cups your chin gently, pulling your face to his, and kisses you deeply. Your eyes flutter shut as you cradle his tear-streaked cheeks in your palms, the damp warmth of his tears smearing against your skin. Whether he’s trying to distract you from his changing body or himself from the pain, you can’t be sure—but you return the kiss with equal passion, willing the world outside to fade away.

The sounds of his transformation— clothes ripping, bones snapping, joints realigning—begin to echo about louder and louder. Yet you ignore them, clinging to the heat between your lips, in hopes that the connection you share distracts him from the painful shift. After what feels like a small eternity, you pull away slowly, lips tingling from the heat of his breath. Steadying yourself, you take a step back, ready to take in all that he has become.

Words cannot do justice to his new form. You stare in awe, committing his new body to your memory as he stands completely bare in front of you. Before you stands no trace of the human you once knew—only a towering, fearsome beast, the living embodiment of draconic ferocity. His body is a fusion of taut muscle and hardened scales, rippling with untamed power. Long, white hair cascades down his back, swaying like a mane as it frames his draconic face, a mix of humanoid and bestial features. His maw, lined with razor-sharp fangs, juts forward like that of a great dragon, yet his eyes still carry the familiar glint of Sylus—recognizable, despite the terrifying transformation.

His legs are thick and clawed like that of an animal, hoisting his massive form even higher above you. While he moves with the mannerisms of a bipedal creature, this is no man—this is something far more primal, more dangerous. Behind him, a long, jagged tail swings low, its blade-like ridges sharp and lethal. Higher up, leathery-red wings point upwards and wrap around his waist, covering himself up as modestly as he can. The horns that once subtly adorned his head have grown monstrously large, curling menacingly around his skull, nearly outsizing his monstrous, animalistic visage. His arms, though almost human in form, are colossal—each muscle encased in a thick, armor-like scale, protruding with strength at every joint as they swirl around his chest, where the beating thump of his heart stands out.

He is immense; a creature of both beauty and terror, and you can't help but feel both in awe and mesmerized in his presence.

You must look off-put, as Sylus bows his head, once more avoiding eye contact. Before he can move away, you take the initiative to reach out and grab his hand. Your fingers barely make a dent in his thick flesh, but still, you tug him towards yourself hoping he’ll understand the motive.

“You’re beautiful.” You whisper, voice quiet as you reach your hand out for his face. He takes the hint, hesitantly stepping forward with a loud thud that shakes the ground nearby, bending down to place his jagged jaw into your hand lightly.

“Don’t,” His voice comes out with a groggy, half-growl tone, “Lie.” He finishes. Each word seems to have winded him, sighs escaping through sharp talons.

“I’m not.” You answer, and before he can protest, you push your lips against what would be his lips in this new form. It’s awkward, your lips barely covering a quarter the size of his mouth, his large teeth pushing up against your mouth as you try to kiss him. But awkward as it is, he returns the passion as delicately as he can.

“I still want you Sylus, like this, or in any form. You have me.”

He must finally give in to his desires, ignoring whatever reservations were holding him back as he realizes your devotion to him. He takes your body in his giant hands, cradling you gently as he lifts you up so he can stand at full height. As you sit like a pretty doll in his palms, nearly 9 feet above the ground, he brings his head close to yours until his forehead and horns rest against your head.

“Thank you.” He growls through softly bared fangs, “But… don’t know how much you can help me…” he trails off, “ like this. Don’t want to.. to hurt you.”

As he leans away from you, a brief flicker of his eyes downwards gives him away. You shift a little in his grasp, hoping to peer down at one body part of his you hadn’t considered might also change.

“Are you certain…want to see all of me?” Sylus nuzzles his sharp snout into your neck, subtly preventing you from looking further.

“If it will help you, then of course. I know this isn’t how you wanted things to play out, but under different circumstances, I would still want to see all of you.”

Sylus lets you squirm out of his firm hold on you, allowing you to look past his scaled rocky chest and down to where the red tapered tip of his cock rests against his torso. And it's thick. The tip alone must be fatter than your fist. You can’t see beyond the tip from the angle you’re being held at but if it reaches this high up his body, it must be massive. Maybe you can’t help him the way he needs.

The expression on your face must give away your shock at his size, as Sylus looks down to his cock and back up to your face, awaiting a reaction.

“What exactly do you need from me to help you?” You ask hesitantly, gauging the severity of his need to fuck you.

Sylus groans at your questions, low and deep, hips bucking forward like the mere thought of what you’re offering makes him throb. As he leans back to rest on a nearby tree, his hands tighten around your waist, just slightly, as he responds.

“Need to fuck you,” he huffs, “To eat you,” he presses his face against your neck, “to breed you,”, saliva drips down from his scaly maw, landing hot and wet as it slides down the front of your shirt. “Mine.”

“Mmph.” You moan, a warm wetness beginning to form between your legs at his words. “I’m not sure if you’ll fit, but we can try. Whatever will help you.” Your voice is flakey, shaking with each breath as you try to contain your arousal.

“Will fit,” he licks at your neck, right where your pulse is, “spit will help, will numb, stretch.” As he slides his tongue up, the sheer size of it alarms you and reminds you of how much bigger he is. Its heavy weight feels like a compression around you as it wraps once around your throat. The tip of it drags across your chin, soaking your face in his wetness, stopping before your lips, awaiting your approval.

As he holds you so close to him, his hands the only thing supporting your body as his mouth pants at your chest, you give in. Accepting that whatever will come, Sylus will not hurt you.

Opening your mouth, his tongue pushes in, stretching your jaw slightly before it flattens to fit better. Even with only the tip of it in, you’re overwhelmed as it thrashes around your cheeks, saliva beginning to drip down all around your face.

Yet as it continues, as his tongue soaks your neck and fills your mouth, pleasure begins to stir within you. As his sharp talons hold you above his head, you start to crave more. As his scaly snout pokes into your chest, the feeling of being overwhelmed dissipates. The weight of his touch lightens. The awkward wetness feels comforting.

And your arousal heightens. The fear that has been holding you back from fully indulging in him is gone, replaced by a carnal need to be used by him. Without even realizing it, you’ve gathered his heavy head in your hands, his tongue almost entirely down your throat as you swallow around it with ease. Face to face with his heavy maw, you finally let loose and moan into his mouth.

He pulls back slowly, unwinding his tongue from its place down your throat. He growls, keeping you eye to eye with him. “Ready?”

Jaw still sore, soaked from spit, you nod dumbly.

“Good.” And as soon as the words escape his mouth he’s using a claw to rip apart your clothes, just barely leaving a mark on your skin as your tattered outfit falls to the ground. The cool air hits your body hard, nipples hardening in the wind as the saliva dries quickly. You tremble in his hands, partially due to the wind, and partially due to the way your body is out on display for him; the first time he’s seen you naked.

Any insecurities you may have had begin to melt away as he stares at you like he holds the world in his hands. “Beautiful.” He groans, gently caressing your skin with his claws. Despite his beastly exterior, he cradles you as though you are his most treasured possession.

Your skin is taut under his grasp as Sylus lifts you higher until you’re above his head. Staring directly at your exposed cunt, he clasps his maw against it before you can even blush at his forwardness. Gasping at his reaction, every touch seems to set your body aflame with desire. As his scaled lips touch your pelvis, his tongue begins to swirl around your pussy.

“Divine.” He croaks, words muffled by your wetness between his lips. He drags his tongue between your folds once more before diving deeper, the tip poking at your entrance. As his saliva mixes with your slick, your desire heightens. You need him in you now.

“Please, Sylus, fuck me already.”

His eyes snap from their view of where his tongue plays with your entrance, slit pupils dilating as he makes eye contact with you. He takes a deep breath in, then plunges his tongue deep inside.

The sensation is immediate, pleasure taking over your body as his self-lubricated muscle pumps into you, poking around at your gummy walls like it’s looking for room. No, like it’s making room. It’s almost terrifying, watching as his long and thick tongue penetrates deeper and deeper. It shouldn’t fit, but somehow, inch after inch it disappears further until you’re sat entirely on his sharp face.

His hands hold your body up in the air as he tilts his head back to keep you in an upright position. Your feet, dangling on either side of his head, wrap around his horns to use as some kind of leverage to contrast the penetrating feeling of his tongue pushing against your cervix. “Mmm, Sy-!” You whine, his name the only word you can form as he pumps into you repeatedly. The coiling of his tongue pushes against all your inner walls, all the hidden spots you didn't know could be touched.

His fingers shift, one hand sliding slightly upwards, unintentionally grasping your loose tits between them, while the other wraps lower around your ass. It gives you a better view of his face - and the bulge protruding from your lower stomach every time his tongue flicks forward.

Sylus must catch your gaze, as he withdraws his tongue slowly until just the tip is inside, and he pushes on the bulged area, distending it to lengths that must made possible with the use of his aphrodisiac-like saliva. It hurts, but it hurts good.

“Carvin’ out my place in you.” He slurs as best he can without proper use of his tongue. He gives one last squeeze to your breasts, before withdrawing until he’s back to holding you up at chest height to him - still at least 9 feet above the ground.

“Ready?” he pants, “Sweetie?”

Missing the feeling of being filled already, you nod rapidly. Sylus smiles, scales glistening in his smirk, and then lowers himself until he’s lying on his back, keeping your body close to his chest. Feeling the base of his heavy cock rest on your ass is enough to get your body subconsciously moving, humping your hips forward helplessly, looking for any kind of stimulation. The hard texture of his skin beneath you catches against your clit. You lurch forward, hands steadying yourself on his defined abs to get yourself.

A purr-like noise radiating from beneath you causes you to open your eyes which must’ve closed in the chase for release. Sylus’ head is tilted low to watch as you use him and despite the desire in his eyes, he holds an expression that’s entirely human.

He lifts his gaze to meet yours, and suddenly, the world around you seems to still. His eyes are wide, filled with a mixture of awe, disbelief, and something deeper—infatuation. Relief washes over his face, softening his features as if the weight of years has been lifted in a single breath. It’s as though he’s finding solace in your acceptance of him, releasing the fears he’s long held about how you would perceive this form. He looks at you as if this moment is something he had once dared to hope for but never truly believed would come—an unspoken dream, now realized. His expression speaks of a man who has waited a lifetime for this, for you, and for the peace that comes with being seen and accepted completely.

“Sylus,” your voice comes out dripping with desire. The hardened skin beneath feels good, but you need more. There’s an aching emptiness within you, now that you’ve felt his tongue carve out a place in you. “Need you inside me. Now.”

He tosses his head back, throat exposed as he arches his back like you’re words alone pushed him closer to his release. His hands fondle your body before gently raising you up and back so you're sitting with his cock in front of you. And it is indeed massive.

From where it rests against his stomach, you can see now why it felt so heavy when it was behind you. The base alone is almost as thick as one of your thighs. It shoots up at least a foot before tapering off to a tentacle-like tip that’s almost sized like a normal penis.

There’s no way that’s fitting inside of you.

“There’s no way that’s fitting inside me.”

Sylus huffs in what could be considered humour, before his expression softens. “It will… Some of it. Trust me.” He lets go of his grab on you and offers a hand. As your tiny palm slides around one of his fingers, just barely able to grasp it entirely in your hand, his wings wrap around your body like a shield of privacy.

“Trust. Please.” His voice comes out more breathy than before, his chest rising and falling deeply with each breath. It’s then that you notice the tension in his shoulders, the way they bunch up is different than a human body but still noticeable. He must be suffering, holding himself back.

You turn your head to the side, nose brushing against his taut wing. “Ok.” And with confidence, you lean forward and grab his cock. Holding it with both your hands, the girth is barely contained between your fingers. It’s moist all over, self-lubricating, slippery, and heavy. Sylus gasps under his breath and before your fingers can even reach the tip, he’s sliding you forward and upward.

Hands flat against his shoulders, your face to face with him once again as he reaches to guide his cock towards your entrance. The anxiety of how he’ll fit must be evident in your face as he leans forward and licks your cheek.

“I’m ready.” You whisper, and Sylus slowly slips his tip inside your dripping cunt.

Fitting a literal monster cock inside you is not something you can easily prepare for, mentally or physically, for that matter. But somehow, with a mix of whatever is in his saliva and his earlier ministrations, you now sit with almost half of a monster cock deep in your gut.

The stretch of your gummy walls accommodating his girth is not as painful as you would have imagined.

It feels like a reward, as if you’re fulfilling a purpose your body was made for.

Because it was, wasn’t it? Isn’t your body destined to take him inside you and milk it until you’re full? Weren’t you made for this?

The feeling of his tip working its way inside you reveals a hidden will of its own, pulsing and writhing around despite Sylus not thrusting into you yet. He slowly works you down his cock until it seems you’ve hit your limit. With just barely half his length inside, your cunt split open wider than you thought possible, the thumping tip pushes out into the area he fucked open with his tongue.

“See?” He growls. “Fits. Just need tip.” At his last word, the tip inside pokes out into your belly, a protruding bulge in your front. He takes your hand in his much large hand and pushes back against it, and you nearly cum at the sensation. Based on his reaction, he nearly does too.

It’s becoming too much and he’s not even fucking you yet. The widening of his girth from where it sticks out of you is lined with rocky scales that hit exactly at your clit, like they were made for your pleasure. The tense bundle of nerves ache for stimulation. You squeeze your legs around the base of his cock, and slowly thrust yourself forward in hopes that he understands what you want.

He does. Using gentle hands, he holds you up in place before slowly starting to thrust his hips upwards into you. With each movement, his cock pushes through your gut leaving you feeling stuffed and full of desire. Your legs loosen from their grip around his base and instead, hang freely below you as he uses you like a personal flesh light.

“Fuck.” He growls, hands tightening around you like he’s using your body to keep himself alive. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, fuck.”

You can’t reply, at least not in words. The combination of his fat girth and poking tip render you speechless aside from a few moans of pleasure. “Sy…” you attempt his name, but it’s useless. You can’t focus on anything other than the way he fucks up into you.

“Mine. Mine. Fuck.” He mutters under his breath, fingers finding their way to where your body holds him inside, splaying across your belly to feel the weight of his cock inside you.

The build-up of pleasure grows and grows as he brushes his cock against your clit and insides. Your edging closer and closer to release, but just as you feel your physical pleasure start to take over your mind, everything flips.

The mossy ground is beneath you as you’re softly placed on the ground. With Sylus still inside your pulsing cunt, he now hovers above you, thick arms holding himself up on either side of your head. His wings flap around, shielding your body beneath him.

“Mine. No one else’s.” He shouts, not taking his eyes off you as he raises an arm and holds his hand up in a direction away from you. Between the folds of his wings, you see movement: more wanderers. A few gnaves, they’re launching in your direction but a red whirling mist surrounds them before they can reach you.

“Mine!” Sylus screams out, sharp fangs agape as he bares his teeth in the direction of the gnaves. From his position, he starts lightly thrusting his hips forward into you. The sharp pang of pleasure as he fucks into you draws your mind away from the looming threat of wanderers.

You close your eyes, hands out grabbing for his chest, his arms, anything to ground you. A splattering of wetness across your face forces your eyes open in shock. Sylus stares down at you, his face and yours dripping in wanderer blood. Beside you, the dead bodies of the beasts disintegrate leaving only their protocors. Sylus fucks back into you.

“Mmmph! Fuck - M’ yours!” You scream out, pulling his horned head towards you again and diving into his mouth. His long tongue laps at your mouth in anticipation before you let it slide in and down your throat once more, the numbing of the saliva still in effect as it mixes with the blood across your face.

“Mine. Mine to protect. Mine to fuck. Mine to breed.” Sylus pants into your mouth, words obstructed by his tongue down your throat.

“Mmhmm.” You whimper, unable to form words between the harsh fucking of his cock in you and his tongue in your mouth.

”I’m…” he groans, “here.” He lowers a hand to your stomach, the bulge less visible than the previous position but still just as deep in you as he fucks forward.

“My place.” The tip of his cock squirms around and fucks up into you at a pace faster than his hips, smooshing against the thing wall of skin separating it and his hand on the other side. It feels like being fucked twice, one thick and slow, stretching against your clit. The other, thin and fast, pumping around against your cervix in whatever space has been molded to take it.

“No one else.” His gaze is animalistic, hungry, desperate. With each thrust his hardens torso twists and twitches, your tiny body beneath him rocking back and forth on the ground. It hurts, it’ll definitely leave bruises on your skin, but the pleasure overtakes you.

He slides his tongue out of you and it slithers to wrap around your throat. He looks over you, head nearly twice as big as yours with his sharp horns dangling over either side of your face. This shouldn't be as enjoyable as it is. You should be scared. The leader of Onichynous is splitting you open on the floor of a wandered infested forest after turning into one himself.

But the way he stares at you overrides all of those things. He looks down at you with such a longing mixture of emotions. He looks down at you like you’re the most precious and dear thing to him in the world, like he’s been waiting for this, like he needs this like he needs to breathe air. Like he can’t believe it’s finally happening.

His red eyes widen at your eye contact as you raise a hand to rest against his scaled cheekbone. Not entirely human. Not entirely wanderer. Completely Sylus.

His eyes glaze over, whether from the pleasure or the intimacy of the act, you’re unsure. But it moves you to speak. “Yours. Forever.”

That pushes him over the edge, wings flapping violently behind him, horns scraping into the dirt beneath you without care as he leans his head down beside yours. His tongue squeezes at your throat, his breath and pace quickening as he fucks sloppily into you.

“Fuc- mmph...” he stutters into your ear, trying to form words. And then he whimpers, a high-pitched, voice-cracking cry right into your ear. And then he cums. And you can feel it happen.

You can feel a sudden warmth spread through your lower half, feel each spurt and twitch of his cock. The pressure increases as it pumps into you and pushes against your walls, making you feel even more stuffed as he stays inside you.

It must be some kind of wanderer, monster anatomy but you can feel the base of his cock tightening as he cums. It swells and grows, pushing further up against your clit. With each twitch of his hips, the base rubs on the nerves until you finally come undone on him.

“Fuck! Sylus! I’m-!” You cry out.

“I know, Sweetie,” he moans, voice hoarse, “Keep cumming. For me.”

You close your eyes, whole body tensing as release tingles through your muscles like a spell. Each pulse of pleasure quivering throughout your body; a blanket of white taking over your every thought. Your legs wrap and tighten around Sylus’ waist as he rocks forward into you, slowing down with every hump as you slowly become overstimulated.

“Nnph. Sylus, too much. Can’t.” You whimper out, eyes squeezed shut as you paw at his torso to slow down. He doesn’t reply, but his body comes to a halt until he’s still above you. His breath is warm against your chest in slow, warm puffs. Time seems to come to a stop; your body feels heavy, and your mind floating above. There’s nothing besides you, the ground beneath you, and Sylus deep inside you.

After what feels like hours (but could very well be minutes), Sylus shifts. A sharp claw slides gently under your back, supporting your weight as it picks up you. You keep your eyes closed in a heightened state of bliss, trusting Sylus as he moves until you are chest-to-chest with him while he lays on his back. The leather blanket of his wings rests on your shoulders as they wrap around you, keeping you warm and protected from the outside world. His cock remains nestled deep inside you, your stomach feeling tender - used. As if sensing your awareness to the discomfort, Sylus runs a sharp finger down the crest of your back, humming a cracked and hoarse tune. You wait for him to speak, but he doesn’t. He just sits in the silence with you.

With the strength of Linkon’s most powerful hunter, you lift your tired head off his chest and peer up at him to find his ruby eyes already staring back at you. He looks unsure, almost vulnerable, an expression that a giant horned wanderer shouldn’t be able to express. His hand steadies on your waist, keeping a light hold on you like he’s waiting for you to pull away.

“You mean the world to me Sylus.” You say, eyes glimmering with intent and honesty. He doesn’t respond but his chest stops rising for a moment, a baited breath like he needs a moment for the words to set in. You can see the thoughts racing in his mind as he stares back at you and for a split second, his eyes shine with unshed tears.

He looks away before you can comment, a smile returning to his face before looking back at you with a soft gaze. “And you are my world.” He says softly. He pulls you tight to him in an embrace that feels like more than just a hug, nuzzling his scaled-maw to your cheek. “Thank you. For trusting me.”

“Of course.” You smile, care seeping into your voice. “How are you feeling? Are the side effects… gone?” You ask, unsure of how to approach to topic.

“Yes, thanks to you. I don’t know where I’d be without my feisty little kitten.” he teases, but there’s no bite to his tone - It’s filled with appreciation and truth. He smiles and as he does the tips of his scales begin to crumble to dust.

“You never cease to surprise me, Miss Hunter. I thought I walked this unforgiving road alone. You’ve proven me wrong, I’m sorry for doubting your trust in me.” He picks up your hand in his now considerably more human-sized palm and presses a kiss to your knuckles. “I’ll answer all your questions once we’re back at the base. But for now, let me tend to your body. Rest. Stop that wired train of thought in your pretty little head.”

“I don’t think -” you start in protest, but he pushes a no-longer taloned finger to your lips and hushes. “I’ll play kitty cards with you all night long if you wait until we get back.” He bribes, and you can’t find it in you to deny his offer.

“Pinky promise?” You ask with a small voice, suddenly alerted to the feeling of Sylus’ monster cock shrinking within you and leaving you feeling empty even though he remains within.

“Pinky promise.” He replies, locking his finger around yours and sealing the deal with a spark of red evol energy swirling between you two. He notices your brief discomfort, holding you closer to him with a look nothing short of true love for you. “Thank you for this. You’ve given me a support that I don’t deserve.” He whispers into your ear. You tear your gaze from where your hands are intertwined and are met with human Sylus once again.

“Don’t insult yourself like that. What we think we deserve and what others see in us are rarely the same—sometimes, we just have to accept the kindness offered.” You say in a stern voice. He looks at you with utter respect, eyes glowing like you’re his queen. “As you wish.” He hums, and it finally seems like everything you’ve said sinks in. “Now let’s get you cleaned up. As stunning as you are, I don’t think dried wanderer blood is a healthy fashion statement.” He lulls as he begins to unwrap his arms from you.

“Rest, kitten.” Sylus smiles as he smudges dried blood away on your cheek.“Although we’ll need to find where our phones fell to. And new clothes.”

#love and deepspace x reader #l&ds sylus #l&ds sylus x reader #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #sylus qin #sylus smut #Love and Deepspace #Reader insert #lads smut #sylus x mc #lads sylus smut

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m1guelsgf · 6 months ago

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hii!! I was wondering if you could write a fic about Axel where he wins the sekai taikai and he ran over to y/n to hug her and kiss her and the rest of miagyi do people found out about the relationship. Thank you so much i love axel sm

surprises

axel kovacevic x reader

hope i did your request justice! this was fun! feel free to send more

it was no surprise that axel was one of the finalists. he was the only person in the whole sekai tekai tournament that didn't have one point against them. he was untouchable.

from your spot at the edge of the mat, between miguel and hawk, you watched the last match anxiously. it came down to robby v. axel and your team had no idea how hard it was to watch this match. they didn't know your loyalty had been split on their very first day in barcelona. you were lucky that there was so much drama between the miyagi do's, that they didn't pay much attention to your changes in mood around the iron dragons leader.

you and axel were dating.

it started on that first night, when everyone went to the tapas bar. ever since your conversation on the beach, followed by a long makeout session, you and him couldn't stop thinking of each other. it was driving the both of you mad so you had to do something about it. you were up all night that night just texting him and getting to know him.

now, you were watching him and robby on the mat and your stomach couldn't stop doing flips. you were hoping it didn't come down to this, because you didn't know who to root for. robby was your teammate and good friend. it should have been the obvious choice but at the same time, axel was your boyfriend. it didn't feel right to choose robby's side, even though you and axel both agreed not to tell anyone about your relationship until after the tournament.

you continued to watch the match. it was 2-2 and both robby and axel were not letting the other get the last point. axel had the height but robby had the agility. the both of them had no plans of letting up. axel's skill however, won in the end. robby was dropped to the mat with one kick, and finished with another kick.

"point! iron dragons, winner!"

the entire arena roared in cheers and applause. the sekai tekai was over. axel won. you were stuck for a moment, unable to decide whether you should console robby or cheer for axel. you stayed on your side, circling around robby with your team, still clapping your hands for the both of them. axel was being congratulated by his team at the same time.

"it's okay robby, you still did really good." you offered him a tight lipped smile.

miguel nodded in agreement. "yeah, he's been at this for way longer than all of us. at least you got those points on him."

"thanks guys." of course, robby was defeated but he was trying not to let it get to him.

just then, you saw axel walking towards you from his side of the mat. he moved through the crowd with determination. your heart began thumping against your chest and you almost didn't think it was real until he pushed past demitri and eli to get to you.

"what the hell man?" eli scoffed, ready to throw hands with the champion because emotions were still running high.

he didn't even give you a chance to speak before he grabbed you by the waist and leaned down to your height, taking your lips in a kiss.

you kissed him back, placing your hands on his arms. it was like everything else melted away in that moment. it was only a few seconds long but the both of you cherished it. he held you close while kissing you and eventually pulled away, not before placing a few gentle kisses against your lips. your brain was fuzzy and your vision was soft as he rested his forehead against yours.

"i couldn't wait any longer." he whispered, smiling cheekily. "sorry."

you almost forgot that you were surrounded by your teammates who just watched you swap spit with the leader of the enemy team. you leaned away from axel, just a little, to look at your teammates faces.

everyone was caught off guard. miguel and robby both had the same horrified look. eli and demitri were confused more than anything. sam was watching with an amused grin. she was the only one who noticed you staying up all hours of the night and throwing encouraging glances to the other side of the mat. they all looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to explain the scene that they had just witnessed.

you looked at axel and then you looked back to your teammates, unsure of where to start. "i know should have told you guys-"

"yeah, you should have told us." sam cut you off. "but i get why you didn't." she looked at everyone. "i mean come on guys. we were kind of a mess until now. if we found out that she was dating him, it would have buried us even deeper in stupid drama." everyone was still taking it all in.

"i didn't wanna throw us off balance even more." you nodded, looking at robby who couldn't even look at you without betrayal. he didn't know he was fighting your boyfriend out there and he felt like if he knew it would have changed things. "robby. i swear, it just happened."

"well, how did it just happen? you don't see devon macking it with kwon because it just happened." robby shot at you. he felt decieved and honestly you understood. you would feel the same if you were in his shoes.

"ew, robby." tory came from behind him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "devon has standards." robby managed to relax a bit with tory at his side.

"i'm with robby." miguel shrugged. "i wanna know how this happened." he pointed at you and axel. axel still had his arms around you, holding you close to him.

"it started when we went to the tapas bar-"

"on our first day? man european's move fast." demitri shook his head in disbelief and then noticed everyone was looking at him. "continue."

you were about to speak but axel beat you to it. "we met on the beach. we talked and... i really liked her. i couldn't just let her go."

"i wasn't expecting axel and he wasn't expecting me either. it just happened." you smiled at axel and then at your teammates. "i didn't want to lie to you all."

"but you did." robby narrowed his eyes at axel.

"ah, leave 'em alone." johnny lawerence's voice got all of your attention's. "he's the sekai tekai champion. at least she's not dating another one of these losers."

"johnny." daniel larusso scolded. "you just called your son a loser."

"shit. not you robby."

"i know, dad." robby rolled his eyes and waved the two sensei's off.

"so are you switching teams, or...?" demitri asked and you immediately shook your head no.

"of course not. just because we're dating doesn't mean we need to train at the same dojo." you looked at axel. "tory and robby aren't in the same dojo anymore."

"yeah, but that's different." robby started, although once he said it he knew it wasn't all that different.

"actually, i might be looking for a new dojo." axel spoke and glanced at all your friends faces. everyone was taking him in at a different pace. sam, devon, and tory already liked him for you. demitri and eli were still confused as to how they missed it. robby and miguel were the most cautious of axel. both of them had been dealing with axel's agression the most, robby dealt with it on the mat and miguel was the subject of a lot of jealous stares after a brief misunderstanding (axel didn't like the way miguel adjusted your headband for you).

everyone now looked at robby to give some sort of approval of the situation. robby wasn't unreasonable. he was probably the most forgiving person on the team considering everything he's been through.

"only you would come back from barcelona with a new boyfriend." he shook his head, smile creeping up on his face. he was still a little bitter about the match, yes, but he also had never seen you that happy before and he wasn't gonna be the one to take it away from you.

axel could tell that having your friends on your side was really important to you. once everyone was smiling and the tension passed, he took the opportunity to kiss you again in front of your friends and the rest of the arena.

#axel kovacevic #axel cobra kai #axel kovacevic x reader #cobra kai season 6 part 2 #cobra kai x reader

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f1cflcfic · 5 months ago

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The Prophecy (SMAU ft. Lando Norris): Epilogue

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (fem!y/n)

summary: what happens after the break-up that noone saw coming? as Y/N L/N gears up to release her next album, each song reveals a little bit of the past, present and future of her relationship with Lando Norris. Inspired by a curated playlist built around "The Prophecy".

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons. also, this chapter contains some (implicit) references to sex.

genre: social media au (with written parts), angst, exes to lovers, happy ending

[A/N: hehe it's never really over, this is for my bff who just got engaged over the weekend <3]

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi

♥･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♥

June, 2027

[Excerpt from Y/N L/N's Buzzfeed Playing with Puppies Interview]

Y/N is sitting down on the floor, enthusiastically chatting to someone off camera. “Listen Roz I’m so serious, you’re going to have to physically incapacitate me when I want to take them all home. It will happen, and you will need to stop me.”

Someone from the crew giggles, as they instruct Y/N to readjust her lavalier microphone.

“Alright, so it’s super easy – you just sit there, and we bring the pups to you!”

“Oh my god. This is my dream. I always say to my friends that I’d just really love to be in a puppy pile, and it’s finally happening. The pinnacle of my career. This is why I became a singer,” she chatters, then gasps as the first puppies are brought out.

“Oh hiiii,” she almost whimpers at the sight of them, some a little more active, others a little sleepy. One immediately snuggles into her lap, and Y/N looks off-camera to someone meaningfully. “I am taking him home.” Someone can be heard laughing and saying “no, you can’t” in response, to which Y/N sighs in defeat.

“So, can you tell us who you are, and what you do”

“My name’s Y/N L/N, and I’m a singer-songwriter. But today I’m a professional puppy cuddle buddy.”

“Here’s your first question – you mentioned recording a song in Taylor Swift’s studio for the Prophecy. What does it look like?”

“Oh my – oh they smell so good I swear, I’m so sorry I didn’t hear a word you said.” The interviewer repeats the question, as Y/N tries really hard to maintain eye contact with them instead of the puppies roaming around her.

“It’s a really beautiful space, a sanctuary, really. And it’s just amazing to think that so many iconic songs and albums have been partially written and recorded there as well. Taylor is a wonderful friend to have in this industry, and – oh just look at this little guy. He’s so cute!!!”

“Second question: You’re in the middle of a world tour right now. What was your own first tour that you remember going to?”

“Oh look at this one, he’s just playing around, such a little goofball. Sorry, sorry – the question. My first concert? You know it was probably some type of children’s act? My parents aren’t super into music, so the first time I went to see someone and paid for the ticket myself, it was probably Taylor actually.”

“Third question: You said you’re into reading. What’s your latest recommendation?”

“I try to read, yeah! It’s so easy to get sucked into my phone, but I always bring books and an e-reader. Oof, careful little guy, those tiny teeth are sharp,” she disentangles her finger from a puppy’s mouth, then hugs him close to her chest and kisses his head. “I love you, don’t worry. So, yeah, what was I saying? I think with reading I’m always in two minds about it. I enjoy literary fiction, but I also love fantasy. So I recently started There Are Rivers in the Sky from Elif Shafak, and then I’ve been re-reading the Fourth Wing series by Rebecca Yarros. Love that dragon. Maybe we should name you Tairn, or Xaden,” Y/N points at a puppy with dark fur and brown eyes.

“Do they all have names already? All of them are up for adoption, right? But surely these personalities – ah okay. His name’s Lewis?” She smiles cheekily, but doesn't comment further.

One of the dogs lets out a pitiful little whine, and Y/N immediately looks down. “What’s up little pup? Are you unhappy? Can we get them some water, some snacks?”

Someone steps in with a bowl of water, then asks the next question. “What’s something you do to relax on your days off?”

“Hmm aside from reading? Honestly, I love to just hang out with my family. Go do minigolf, something fun together.”

“Not actual golf?”

Y/N snorts, her fingers absentmindedly petting the puppies that have since fallen asleep in her lap. “My partner has tried to get me into it, and I love how much he enjoys it, but it’s not for me. So I’ll happily drive the golf cart and cheer him on instead.”

“Are you not competitive?”

You scrunch your nose at the word. “I think I am, but I’m more scared of others thinking I’m not good enough – so then I abandon serious pursuit of victory. If it’s just a laugh, then it’s fine if you’re not great at something. It’s something I’m working on!”

She kisses one of the pups that’s woken up from its nap on his tiny nose. “I love you, you, you’re such a tiny little angel aren’t you?”

“Alright, next question: If you were in an emergency situation, who would you call to bail you out?”

“Probably Lando. He’d be fast, you know?” Y/N smiles at the camera. “By the way, he’s going to be SO jealous of me for getting to hang out with pups all day.”

“If you weren’t a singer-songwriter, what do you think you’d be doing?”

“Hmm, I’d probably have gone to university – maybe literature, or maybe political science. Then I’d go work for an NGO? I’d love to know I was making a difference in people’s lives I think.”

“Last question – what are you most looking forward to?”

“Aside from the new, upgraded tour? I can’t believe I’ll be playing stadiums. That feels very surreal. Apart from that, we’re getting some renovations done on the house right now and I’m super excited to see my library fantasy come to life. I want to have a ladder on wheels.”

You quietly stroke the fur of a red and white puppy that’s been curled up in your lap since the beginning. “I’m going to cry having to give these back. But I’m going to, I will. It’d be irresponsible to adopt a dog right now, maybe next year we’ll get on that. Please, if you are able and willing, adopt these sweet little puppies – and I will personally come by and hangout with your pup and you.”

The screen fades to black, and then there’s a shaky camera that follows Y/N as she laughs while talking on the phone. “I know! I said you would,” she’s overheard saying. “There’s one in particular, I just – ” she trails off, listening to whatever’s being said on the other end of the line. “Do you really think so?” Her smile widens. “I love you so much, you have no idea,” she nods excitedly at her assistant and starts walking towards the animal shelter representative. “Yeah I’ll keep you posted, say hi from me to your brother and Sav please. Ok, see you. Bye.”

August 14th, 2027

December 8th, 2027

June 18th, 2028

♥･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♥

You can read the previous parts & access various bonus content by going here

♥ likes, comments, reblogs are always very much appreciated ♥

taglist (open) : @charlesgirl16, @linnygirl09, @hoeforsirius, @motorsportloverf1, @sarx164, @idkimbadwithusernamesandstuff, @formulaal, @tvdtw4ever @sadiemack9 @seonghwaexile @screamingwines

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angel-writes-here · 1 month ago

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Covenant

Choi Seunghyun x AFAB! Reader x G-Dragon Synopsis: After your reunion with Seunghyun, it's time to tell come clean to both the guys about what you want, but a woman scorned tries her best to rip it apart. Warnings: Angst, fluff, SMUT, unprotected p in v, protected p in a, anal, oral (both receiving) fingering, (not in this order), i think that's it? Let me know if i missed something A/N: Part 9! I apologize for how long this took to put out, but i wanted to be sure it moved forward correctly and not just because I wanted to put out a chapter. Thank y'all for your patience! I appreciate each and every one of you so v much!

The next morning you’re awake before Seunghyun, making breakfast in the kitchen when the TV catches your eye.

“Korean Idol’s T.O.P’s marriage a sham? Sources say there’s evidence that the woman he married wasn’t for love, but rather to appease fans and management following his countless scandals with drugs, parties and petty theft.” You drop your spatula, the utensil hitting the floor as you race over to the living room to turn the tv up.

You begin to hear an all too familiar voice.

“I don’t see why you needed to do this.”

“I told you, management said a marriage was the best option for building my image up again.”

“You’ve married me.”

“Y/n wasn’t in the public eye and lets be honest, she looks more conservative.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too, but I’ll be home soon.” The audio finishes and your heart is racing against your ribs.

Then there was this text exchange that was submitted by our anonymous source.

“Yeah I’ll bet she’s anonymous,” you grumble to yourself.

“As you can see here,” the reporter begins, “The messages were exchanged only a couple days ago.” Your eye brows shoot up as the image appears on the tv screen.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be leaving her soon.” That was from Seunghyun

“Good, and we can get back to our happy lives.”

“I miss you so bad, call me and let me hear you.”

“😈”

You scoff at the tv and turn around to go back to the food, only to find Seunghyun standing there, scratching the back of his neck, a guilty look on his face. A silent understanding settling between you. You purse your lips.

“When did you tell her that?” you could barely whisper it out.

“It was the first night you were in the hotel, I, I thought we were done for good and I didn’t know what I know now. You have to believe me.” He sounds like he’s begging.

You nod your head.

“I should call Ji,” you excuse yourself to the kitchen, cutting off the stove.

Exiting to a back room you feel the weight of the world hit you. You take a deep breath as you pull out your phone. You press on Jiyong’s name and hold the phone up to your ear.

“Hey, jagiya, ready to leave?”

“Actually, can you come over? I need to talk to you, with Seunghyun.” Jiyong’s stomach drops.

“Did something happen? I mean I had a feeling it would, but,”

“Jiyong, please, I wanna talk about it in person.”

“Ok, give me about half an hour and I’ll be there.” You say your goodbyes and hang up the phone.

Seunghyun is sitting on the couch, head in his hands as he stares at his phone.

“Jiyong’s coming over, so you might want to,” you trail off as you notice his sunken in face.

“What’s wrong?” you ask with a quirked brow.

“The label is threatening to drop to me because of Hae,” he says staring at the floor.

“What? Are you serious?”

“They said it makes me look bad and they don’t know if they can repair the damage. A final decision will be made in the coming days.”

“Is there anything we can do?” you sit down beside him putting a hand on his thigh. He peers at you, defeat present in his sweet dark eyes.

“Not really. Being seen out together can’t hurt, but it will raise questions.” He admits.

“I think people will have even more questions if we hide away. Besides, it’s not like we don’t love each other,” you cautiously let out. Seunghyun smiles at you, placing a quick peck to your lips.

“I know, but with this damning evidence, it could ruin my career, everything I’ve wanted since I was a kid, everything I worked so hard for.” You begin to rub his back and pull him into you.

“We’ll figure this out, ok? I promise,” you whisper as you place a kiss to the crown of his head.

Jiyong knocks on the door, his stomach in his throat. When he didn’t get a call last night, he was pretty sure he knew why. And now he thinks he knows what you’re going to say.

“Hey, baby.” You grin and allow him to walk inside.

Baby? That throws him off.

You hug his neck, his arms holding you close by your waist.

“I missed you last night,” he says into your ear.

“I missed you too,” you smile before caressing his face and planting a sweet kiss on his lips.

“Are we leaving?” he asks, voice a little hopeful.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” you say as you guide him to the couch in the living room.

“Please, sit,” you motion for him to sit by Seunghyun who’s patiently waiting on the couch all ready. The two exchange greetings, both looking at you curiously. You sigh, your nerves beginning to get the better of you.

“Both of you are special to me,” you begin with a deep breath. Neither boy had a readable expression.

“I don’t think I can choose between you. Seunghyun we’ve been through a hell of a lot and we’ve overcome it despite the odds. Jiyong, when we’re together it’s like we’re made for each other. I don’t want to lose either of you, and I don’t think I can be just friends with you.” You walk over and bend down between them looking up into their eyes.

“I love you, both. I don’t want to choose,” you mumble and your rest your left hand on Ji’s knee and you’re right on Seunghyun’s.

“So wait, you’re not breaking up with me?” Jiyong asks.

“Nope,” you smile sheepishly.

“But you want to date both of us?”

“I do,” you say with a deep breath.

“But you’re married to him,” Jiyong looks to Seunghyun who’s face is stoic.

“I am,” Seunghyun touches your hand to interject.

“She loves you, man. I can see it in the way she looks at you. It’s not the same way she looks at me,” he admits. You feel a pit in your stomach.

“She needs you,” he finishes.

“You’re ok with this?” Jiyong is shocked.

“If it means I don’t lose her, I’ll do whatever it takes.” He says with finality. Jiyong looks between you for a brief moment before pulling you up to him to kiss your lips. You match his speed, smiling against his mouth. You pull back with a giggle, before leaning over to Seunghyun to kiss his lips.

“I love you guys.” You say as warmth spreads through your body as you settle between them.

The day is spent with the three of you together, talking, watching movies, all three of you content.

That is, until Seunghyun’s phone rings. He takes it to another room, away from the movie, and you curl up next to Jiyong as he pauses it, waiting for his friend.

“Hello?” the two of you can hear him from the little hallway.

“Hey, baby, did you see my little news story?” Hae’s voice drips of mockery on the other side of the phone. Seunghyun’s fists bottle up.

“I get that you’re pissed but did you really have to try and ruin my career?”

“I promised I’d ruin you, Oppa, and I always keep my promises.” She giggles.

“You’re vindictive,” he seethes.

“Oh? You wanna see revenge, just wait till your precious wife gets a load of tomorrow’s story,” she says before hanging up the phone.

Seunghyun tries calling her back, but it’s no use. She doesn’t answer. Seunghyun walks back out to the living room, his face disheveled.

“What’s wrong?” You get up from where you sitting and walk over to him.

“Hae’s got something else planned and I don’t know how to shelter you from it,” he admits quietly. Jiyong gets up, coming up behind you.

“I don’t need to be sheltered; I just need you to be open and honest with me. What else does she have?”

“Nothing that I know of.” The three of you exchange looks.

“Let’s just watch the movie, ok? Take a breather and we’ll deal with whatever bs she pulls, together.” You take both of their hands, kissing the back of each one before the three of you resume the movie.

Later that night Seunghyun gets another call, it’s from his manager saying he needs to meet with him at the studio; that it’s important.

“I gotta go, I’ll be back later.” He informs you in the kitchen. Jiyong walks out of the bathroom hearing the news.

“Is everything ok?”

“Manager says I gotta meet him at the studio.” He shrugs before kissing your lips sweetly and grabbing his keys.

“What about Ji?” you call out.

“He just said I needed to meet him.” You nod before going back to dinner.

Seunghyun pulls up to the building, but his manager’s car isn’t there. He shoots him a text letting him know he’ll wait inside for him. Seunghyun gets up to the recording studio and he walks in, shutting the door behind him. He smells a familiar scent of perfume.

“Hey baby,” Hae spins around in the chair.

“Oh what the hell,” he sighs.

“I’m going home.”

“Seunghyun, wait!” she calls desperately. He goes to open the door but she tugs him away from it.

“Let me go!” he almost shouts at her.

“I know I fucked up, I never should’ve sent those pictures. I never should’ve aired out your business. I’m sorry, if I could take it back I would!” she pleads with him.

“Yeah, whatever.” He goes to turn from her, but once again she spins him to her.

I’m serious, I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me,” her nail runs across the front of his shirt down his chest.

He puts his hands on her shoulders.

“We are over, I forgive you, but we are done. Do not call me. Do not text me. Do not say my name. Don’t even think about me.” She looks hurt, something Seunghyun hates to see on anyone.

“Can I least have one last hug?” she practically whimpers. He sighs and embraces her. As they pull apart, she captures his lips in a forced kiss. He manages to push her off.

“What the fuck?” He spats before wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

“Can you blame for wanting a better goodbye after what we had? We had something special, and I know you miss me.”

“I’d rather sandpaper a tigers ass, hang meat around my neck and be with said tiger in a porta potty trying to fight him off than get back with you.”

“You don’t mean that,” she gasps.

“Where’s the meat?”

“Seunghyun!”

“Hae I’m done with you. Leave me the hell alone.”

“Tell me you don’t miss this,” she says as she goes to remove her top, a desperate attempt to grab his attention.

“I don’t,” he huffs as he walks out of the door, slamming it behind him.

Back at home, you’re on the couch with Jiyong eating dinner, watching fan edits of big bang on Instagram.

“You think Seunghyun’s ok?” you ask suddenly.

“Seems to be, I haven’t gotten anything from him. I wonder why he had to go in so late. We don’t resume the tour until next week.” He explains. You nod, a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach.

It’s about ten minutes later that Seunghyun flies through the door, obviously stressed.

“Woah, hey, y/n made dinner.” Jiyong says surprised by the sudden burst of noise.

“I’m not hungry right now,” he grumbles.

“Ok, how was the studio?”

Seunghyun just walks away, not answering his friend. He slams the door to his bedroom, startling his friend. You come out of the bathroom, eyeing Jiyong. He shrugs his shoulders. You knock on Seunghyun’s door but he doesn’t answer.

“Baby?” you call. He hears you, his stomach twisting at the pet name. He didn’t want to kiss her, his lips didn’t even move, but he still feels guilty.

He opens the door, pulling you into the room. He smashes his lips to yours. It’s not like you’d ever find out. He didn’t need to tell you, to make you worry or frustrate you, right? I mean what if you didn’t believe him?

“What’s gotten into you?” you pull back from him, an amused giggle falling from your lips.

“I missed you while I was gone,” he smiles, cupping your face and looking at you like he’s memorizing your face.

“Are you sure that’s it?” He nods before kissing you deeply again. Your lips move in sync, his tongue tasting yours. Your arms wrap around his neck, lost in the moment. His hands roam your body, your chest, torso and ass.

“wanna taste,” He mumbles, moving you to the bed.

“Seunghyun,” you giggle as he pushes you down, bending down in front of you.

“Woah, hey, baby what’s going on?” You push him by his shoulder, looking into his eyes.

“I just want you,” he breathes.

You nod, “Ok, I’m here.” You kiss his lips sweetly before laying back, easily accessible to him in a large t shirt and panties. His lips brush your thighs, coming to your clothed core placing a soft kiss to you and you chuckle quietly at his gentleness. He slips your panties off, kissing your clit once before swirling his tongue around it. You gasp, your knees bending. Your hand flies to your husbands head, pushing him closer to your core.

“Fuck,” you breathe as pleasure waves are sent throughout your body. Seunghyun can feel it, the guilt eating away at him. He thought maybe eating you would help, but it’s doesn’t.

“Ah, shit,” you choke out as he flicks his tongue faster, the only thing on his mind is trying to make you feel good. Your back arches off the bed.

Jiyong is in the kitchen, cleaning up when he hears it. The moaning and cursing that’s flying from your lips. He chews on his cheek, unsure of how to feel.

Jiyong decides to knock on the door. The noise stops immediately and there’s a brief pause and a little whispering. He can only imagine how red your face is. He’s surprised when he see’s you answer the door, a lustful look in your eyes.

You take his hand and pull him into the room, shutting the door behind him. You go back to your position on the bed, Jiyong’s eyes slightly wide as Seunghyun goes back to licking your wet pussy and you reach out for Jiyong’s hand. He takes it and you pull him to the bed, allowing him to remove your t shirt exposing your breast to both of them. Seunghyun moans against you, causing your hips to buck. Jiyong looks to you, and you nod with your bottom lip between your teeth.

He bends down, kissing your lips before moving his lips down to your hard buds, his tongue swirling over it, pleasure beginning to build in your stomach.

“Fuck, mm, feels so good,” your right hand goes to Seunghyun’s hair, your left threads through Jiyong’s as they worship your body with their mouths.

“Fuck, ah fuck, I’m close,” you whimper. Your breathing turns to gasps as your heart rate escalates.

“Cum for me baby,” Seunghyun encourages.

“Come on, angel,” Jiyong whispers as his hands roll over you peaked buds. Your hands fist the sheets beneath you as your orgasm rips through you, hard. Your body shakes as Seunghyun licks up the mess.

“Want you, both of you,” you mumble out. You kiss Jiyong again, lust and passion mixed as Seunghyun’s tongue flicks over your all too sensitive clit; hips jerking violently in response along with a whine into Jiyong’s mouth.

“He make you feel good, baby?” Jiyong asks.

“Mhm,” you nod as Seunghyun sucks a hickey underneath your bust line.

Jiyong and Seunghyun undress, putting you on your hands and knees.

“Ready?” he asks and you nod, head dropping as he pushes into you, a moan erupting in your throat.

“Fuck,” you groan as you feel him bottom out.

“God, you’re so tight,” he grunts. Seunghyun lifts your head with his index finger and thumb.

You lick your lips at his leaking tip.

“Open,” he says gently as Jiyong starts to rock his hips, watching you closely. You open your mouth, allowing Seunghyun to use it as he pleases. He rocks his hips as your swirl your tongue the best you can with the pleasure that’s coursing through your body.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl, taking both our cocks so well, like you’re made for us.” Seunghyun grunts.

“Fuck, keep doing that.” Jiyong gasps as your walls flutter at his praise.

“Fuck you’re doing so good, keep going baby, you can take it, I know you can.” Your walls once again flutter and Jiyong’s breathing comes out in pants as he speeds up, both of them matching each other’s rhythm.

“Fuck,” Jiyong grunts as he slaps your ass, your eyes widening at the unexpected contact.

“Giggles so pretty,” he mumurs looking up at his best friend.

“You see that? Watch,” he says playfully slapping your ass cheek again. You moan around Seunghyun’s cock.

“Oh, she likes it too.” He mocks. Jiyong slaps your ass a few more times, rubbing the area after each once to help the sting. Jiyong starts slamming into you, causing your jaw to go slack, still trying to suck him off, but it’s no use, your body is responding to Jiyong and the stimulation. Seunghyun can sense it, taking his cock from your mouth pumping himself quickly.

“Cum with me, baby.” Jiyong grunts and you can feel how close he his by the twitching you’re feeling.

Jiyong’s hips move at lightening speed, Seunghyun’s hand is pumping like crazy and at the same time, all three of you cum together, your nails digging into the mattress as Seunghyun’s ropes paint your face, his head titled back. Jiyongs fingers digging deep into your hips, sure to cause bruising. Jiyong pulls out, breathing heavily as you fall on our stomach. Seunghyun grabs a warm damp rag, cleaning your face off for you before sitting you back up.

“You think we’re done, jagiya?” He chuckles as he helps you to your knees. Jiyong smirks and kisses your stomach a few times, a comforting gesture.

You look at them confused and they exchange a knowing look. Jiyong slides a condom onto his cock, positioning himself behind you and Seunghyun positions his body in front, both guys pumping themselves a few times to get the blood flowing.

“Oh shit,” you gasp quietly, causing both of them to chuckle.

“If you don’t want this,” Jiyong starts, the tip pressing on your back door.

“No, no, please.” You say before capturing his lips into a sweet kiss just over your shoulder. He grabs a bit of lube, putting it on your back hole.

“Stop me if it hurts,” he says as he rubs extra lube on his condom covered cock.

“Ok,” you breathe as you try to relax.

“Just look at me,” Seunghyun says as he puts his forehead on yours. You take a deep breath as Jiyong pushes into your ass, the stretch odd, feeling stuffed. He moans forehead falling to the back of your neck. You take another deep breath, trying to steady yourself and get used to the feeling.

You look at Seunghyun and nod, allowing him to push himself into your wet cunt.

“Holy shit,” you breathe as he moans.

“You ok, baby?” Jiyong asks between kisses to your neck.

“Yeah, just, ah, just give me a second.” You sigh as you take in the feeling of being filled by the two men you love.

“Ok, I’m ready.” You whisper and they both start off slow, gentle, giving you plenty of time to adjust.

“Oh fuck,” you groan as your head falls back. Jiyongs arms around your waist holding you close as the two sandwich you. Quickly your boys move faster, chasing not only your high, but their own.

“Fuck you feel so good. You are made for us.” Jiyong whispers in your ear as he leaves sloppy kisses on your neck, ones that you can feel will turn into hickeys, Seunghyun doing the same thing on the other side of your neck.

“I’m gonna be out in public and people will think you beat me,” you giggle as you feel them both sucking harshly and nibbling on spots. The guys ram into you, finding a similar pace as they both feel themselves about to bust, Seunghyun reaches his hand down, rubbing tight cirlces onto your clit and your walls flutter quicker around his cock.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” you whimper as the two of them are pressed against you, chest to back to chest. Your nails dig into Seunghyun’s shoulders as your body gives way to pleasure, allowing it to over take your entire body as you go limp between them, both of them feeling their euphoria at the same time after you.

All three of you pant, bodies slick with sweat. They each pull out, falling down on the bed, you between them.

“You did so good, baby.” Seunghyun says with a kiss to your forehead.

“You were perfect,” Jiyong says with a kiss to your shoulder. You smile at each of them, aftershocks rending your speechless.

“Let’s get in the shower?” Jiyong suggests and you nod. The three of you enter the shower, thank God it’s big enough for the three of you with a few shower heads. The two of them wash you fist, Jiyong taking your front and Seunghyun taking your back. The care and devotion both boys have for you makes your heart swell.

How did you get so lucky?

You wash each of them, giving the same attention to both of them, with the same love and care they showed you.

The three of you are laying in Seunghyun’s bed, content with the way life is, sipping on wine and relaxing. You smile to yourself, something Jiyong notices.

“What’s got you all happy?” He teases.

“I have to be the luckiest girl in the world,” you smile at him before pecking his lips, turning to Seunghyun to do the same.

“Thank you,” you grin at him. He smiles at you with pursed lips.

“And thank you,” you smile at Jiyong and he smiles back.

“For what?” he asks.

“You didn’t have to agree to this,” you motion to the three of you, “whole thing. But I’m glad you did. Picking between the two of you would’ve been the hardest thing I’d ever have to do. I honestly don't think I could.”

You cuddle into your boys as your drift off to sleep.

The next morning you’re up before them, once again listening to the TV as you fix yourself a smoothie.

“Sources have submitted photo’s of T.O.P meeting an old flame last night!” you stop in your tracks, putting the milk down as you run to the tv.

Sure, enough pictures of him and Hae, lips locked, appear on the screen. As well as pictures of them hugging. You go to scoff at it, until you recognize the outfit.

It’s the same one Seunghyun wore to the studio last night.

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