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st4rbwrry · 2 months

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𝒲𝐻𝒴 𝒟𝒪𝒩’𝒯 𝒴𝒪𝒰 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸 𝑀𝐸?

ꔫ eren fails to realize you’re in love with him and has a hard time committing. until he doesn’t have a choice but to face his fears.

꒰ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 ꒱ ꔫ . . .14.4k. fem reader, lowercase intended, best friends to enemies to lovers + locked in a closet, angst, lots of kissing omgie, lotss of fingering, kreamer!, conflicted feelings, oral [ f + m ], praiseeee, spanking to a t, onyankopon cameo + small fight, toxicity, multiple orgasms, rennie gets jealous, miscommunication + arguments, car sex, use of the 'n' word, small daddy kink usage, self pleasure, biting kink, eren's kinda mean, dom / sub dynamic from both, college au, both are needy, relationship establishment, pet name usage [ baby, mamas ] , minors aren't welcomed! reblogs + comments are appreciated! <3

ꔫ ꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 ꒱ . . . got my heart broke so cheers to this one!

pretty boys with eyes like his never made you want to vomit. you adored every aspect of him, always something nice to look at. it's such a shame men who look like him, ungodly creatures, had the worst fucking personalities. or so make horrible decisions in life. fumble good women. why ruin your aura? standing mere centimeters away from him to protect it currently. though you feared he'd already tainted a portion of it. collateral damage was done. he ruins the psyche of your brain when it comes to men, or being in a relationship period. you don't want to be heartless. that lover girl in you wanted to bloom like a daisy, spread her wings like an angel, and showcase herself proudly like a peacock with the one person she's loved since she was a preteen. instead, you're dealt with being mean, standing your ground, and pretending he didn't have a lock on your heart beating with need. so, yes, looking at his face, the boy you were so dangerously in love with, made you want to vomit.

him, stubborn as usual, stood broodingly in the corner of the closet with his strong arms folded over his chest adorned in a black crewneck tee, stainless steel chain around his neck as you study the adam's apple in his throat shift at the same time he swallows in the awkward silence. solid black jeans clad to his muscular thighs, heavy leather boots covering his feet. his scent is so masculine it fills the small space; moroccan mint with woody cedar musk. that heavenly umber hair of his long in his face, growing inch by inch as the months fly by, close to grazing his shoulders.

you cannot believe your friends barricaded the door just so the two of you could talk out your 'issues'. which, in your view, only means an apology from eren for what he did. the night had gone fine. you, eren, and a couple of your friends all going out to catch a drift meet-up. connie had gotten his taxes back and blew it all on installing skull rims and wrapping his scion frs a pearl lavender. being there mostly to cheer him on as he showed off his precious baby. afterward, grabbing ramen from a spot in chinatown. everyone decided to kick it at your house since you had a spacious living room and all the games.

since you and eren haven't spoken in two months, you kept it cordial. well, that's a lie. briefly spoken. the interactions between you two are nothing short of hi's and hello's. ' how've you been? fine, you? yeah, i'm cool. oh, you got a new tattoo? yeah, the other day. that's nice. hey, congrats on the new home. thanks.' quite frankly, your friends have gotten sick of it. it was ruining the vibe of the group by the two of you being so distant. surrounded by each other in your dimly lit living room, high ceilings, and abstract art while soft rnb played soundly in the background. eren sunk comfortably into your velvet emerald green sofa alongside connie, ymir, and armin. sitting opposite of you while you rested on your loveseat with a glass of sangria in your hand. swirling it while smiling and laughing at any question picked from the stack of cards from a game titled 'we're not really strangers.'

you hated the internal connection you and eren held. no matter what was going on, listening to each of your friends spew nonsense and hysterical laughter, you couldn't keep your eyes off one another. you'd glance, admire his features while deep in thought about all the good things, then the bad. and when he'd catch you, more like feel your burning glare, you'd immediately revert your attention to something else. vice versa. both of you were saying a lot without saying anything.

"꒰♡꒱, it's your turn!" the sound of your name being called kicks you out of your conscience, blinking to clear your view when you realize you'd lost it glaring into your wine glass. you clear your throat, your right leg that's thrown over your left jumping up and down.

"oh, sorry!" you smile faintly, straightening your posture to lean forward and snatch one of the red cards from the deck.

"you're getting tired, aren't you? you're always the first one to fall asleep," ymir pressed, chewing on her newly popped in gum as she manspreads, long arms sprawled behind connie and armin onto the headrest.

“it’s just the wine getting to me,” you suck your teeth, your statement being true. the alcohol in your system making you feel more things than one. flipping the card, you read what it says.

"what are you attracted to that you know isn't good for you?" the inhale and exhale you create as you stare blankly at the card in your hand makes it all too known of the answer you wanted to say, but won't. unexpectedly, your sight scrolls to him, and it makes goosebumps arise on your skin from the look he doesn't give you.

“you're right, i am tired. think i’m going to head to bed.”

the crew watches as you remove the kuromi throw blanket off your lap and take a stand, eren’s eyes strong on your figure as you down the rest of your wine. ymir’s eyes shift between you and him, the urge to say something stronger than ever. though, connie beats her to it.

“nah, sit back down. we need to talk.”

you glare at him, eren doing the same, and everyone’s silent. connie leans forward, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to rub frustratingly at his temple. “let’s be adults and just address the elephant in the room.”

“what are you talking about?”

“you know exactly what i’m talking about. this silent, petty feud between you two has been going on for damn near two months and i'm sick of it.”

“agreed,” armin nods, pushing his blonde hair away from his face, clenching his jaw in the process. “we’re too fucking grown for childish behavior. the two of you need to talk and situate your issues privately.”

“they’re right. it’s fucking up the vibe of the group,” ymir pitches in.

deep down, you hate to say they were right. but you still felt like you had nothing to say to him, let alone nothing to apologize for. if anything he owed you one. and you’ll stand on that because he’s fucking immature.

“i pray y'all aren’t thinking i’m the reason for this. if we don’t remember, i’m not the person who fucked on another girl around the same time he supposedly wanted to date me.”

that’s when eren picks his head up, throwing silent daggers your way. you’re trying to make him out to be a villain when that wasn't the case. “we had already established that we were just friends. i don’t know why you still have this insight that i, what . . cheated on you or sum?”

the blood in your veins began to boil, scoffing angrily and prodding your inner check with the point of your tongue. “right, because i’m that delusional.”

“stop,” connie squeezes his eyes shut, getting fed up even further. “this bickering shit is the definition of childish. please just go talk, i’m getting a migraine.”

“as long as he’s willing to be honest, sure. but if he’s just going to waste my time, then i have nothing to say,” you shrug, uncaring.

“in some way you still want him around, because if that wasn’t the case, he wouldn’t be here,” ymir counters, not fond of your sudden attitude.

“i can speak for myself,” eren interrupts, tired of being the pass around subject. “i don’t have a problem talking. . . if she’s not g’na punch me.”

“nigg—”

“alright!” armin raises to his feet, tall body towering yours before he’s lifting you off your feet and tossing you over his shoulder quicker than everyone could blink. a gasp falls from you, wriggling your feet as you yell at him to put you down, groaning like a child.

armin finds the nearest closet and sets you down in it, giving a look not to try it. it’s rare to see armin irritated, so he must’ve really been fed up when you see his eyes go dead as he glares at you while raising his palm telling you to stop. you pout, crossing your arms and huffing as you take a seat on a pile of shoe boxes. turning his head, he sees eren sighing and standing to his feet before willingly entering the closet.

armin steps out, giving a fatherly obedient look between the two of you before closing the door. “be nice. handle your shit. we’re going to grab food.”

“food?” you gasp. “wha—i want some!”

“greedy,” eren remarks under his breath. you shoot him a deadly glare.

“fuck you say?”

“i’m not arguing with you over food.”

“wait, are we really getting food?” ymir whispers to connie who confusingly raises his hands.

“no, we’re going to sit here until they figure their shit out,” armin whispers back, taking long strides back towards the couch where he plops down and sinks into. stuffing his hands into his gray hoodie pockets after lowering the hood over his head, closing his eyes.

“they’re gonna fuck, watch,” ymir chuckles, getting up to search your pantry for more liquor, maybe even digging in your fridge for food, now that they mentioned it. “y'all want pasta?”

“what kind?” connie looks up over his phone.

“mhm,” ymir continues to scout, grimacing at your close to empty fridge. “she only has ingredients for pesto pasta. healthy bitch.”

“pass,” connie and armin reject simultaneously.

“more for me!”

now here the two of you stood, in utter silence. you’re avoiding his sharp gaze as much as you can, twiddling anxiously with your fingers. this is the last situation you want to be in right now. the warmth in your cheeks when you catch him staring is the bitch of all trades. that love you held deeply in your chest for years magnetically pulling you to submission. to care. your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing loudly in your ears. taking a deep breath, you try to calm yourself down. this was important. the two of you needed to get past this if there’s going to be any change to your relationship. this had to be fixed.

“it seems like you want me to start,” reeling you in, his heavy feet hit the ground the closer he gets to you, nearly standing over you in all of his handsome glory. the air shifts and it feels hotter. you can practically hear the swallow in your throat. why did he feel the need to be so close? who knows. maybe it’s some sort of intimidation tactic. “where should i start?”

“hm, i’d say — apologize for being misleading,” your response is nothing but blunt, your emotions getting the best of your original intent.

eren’s mouth goes agape, chuckling with genuine confusion, brows furrowed in concern. “again, how was i misleading? we've never been anything but friends. i never led you on or made you feel like there was something more between us."

“eren, you literally told me that you wanted to try something new and be apart of me on a deeper level than you were. this was after we had sex, twice need i remind you. then, i find you fucking another girl the day you initiated us to hang out. then you had the nerve to argue with me, and call me fucking crazy.”

“i didn’t call you crazy. i said you needed to go home and sleep off whatever shit you were on that night because you cussed that girl out and almost beat her face in for what? we are not together, ꒰♡꒱.”

“i know that,” the muscles in your jaw spasm from the pressure you put into gritting your teeth. the pain of his denial cutting deep. “you say it as if it’d be such a nuisance. that ‘you’re my best friend’ shit went out the window years ago, and you and me both know it. it’s not my fault you have a hard time with commitment.”

“i don’t have a hard time with commitment,” he scoffs, patience fraying. “i told you that i care for you, and you mean a lot to me. that i have love for you, not that i was in love with you. i value our friendship above anything.”

the more he speaks, the more you come to the realization that this is becoming a waste of time, as you expected. there’s a burn in your throat that’s coaxing the tears to well in your eyes. you’re not going to cry, he doesn’t deserve to see you that way. and it felt pathetic to even do so. he’s throwing the truth directly in your face, but somehow . . you find it hard to believe him. there’s just that small hope that deep down inside he felt the same.

“i don’t understand what you’re afraid of. are you not attracted to me? am i not enough for you? is there another girl on your mind?” and that’s when the desperation pours. that level of dissecting yourself to grasp the context of why he doesn’t want you. your leg bounces out of anxiety, scratching at your thigh with the point of your acrylic. trying your hardest to keep yourself from having a mental breakdown.

eren’s eyes soften at your reaction, his mouth going dry at the clear effect this had on you. months, years worth of emotions built up for him. it makes a heavy pang in his heart, wondering how he could be so blind and stupid. his intentions were never meant to hurt you.

“why would you think that?" eren asks, tilting his head slightly. "i never gave you any indication that you weren't good enough for me. why can’t i just not be ready?”

the words roll off his tongue easily, like they were rehearsed. “if you weren’t ready, eren, you could’ve just been upfront with me to avoid this shit from the jump. i would’ve went about my life if you laid it down on the table in bold fucking letters. but every time we were together, you made me feel like — we had a chance. the hugs, the kisses, the ‘i love you’s, the sex. you treated me like i was your girl. and i could say i’m running with the subject. but, i wouldn’t do that if i didn’t have something being fed to me. i’m not an idiot.”

“i just —” he goes to knock his head back, blowing out a huff of air as he shoves his hands into his jean pockets. “i don’t want to hurt you, ꒰♡꒱. i don’t know if i can be the person you need right now. i can’t give you what you want. it’s complicated, and it’s not fair to you. i like you, a lot. i can’t explain my exact feelings, but i’ve always been attracted to you. i thought once that maybe it could work out between us, but the more time goes on, the more i realize how fucked up i am. you deserve better. and it kills me to say even that.”

this was triggering for some reason, feeling claustrophobic from the close proximity of his body between the small space of your closet. it’s all making you sick. you felt like you were going to have a panic attack if you stayed in here with him any longer. standing up, you brush past him to rush towards the door, twisting the knob frantically only to find it locked. fuck. groaning, you bang on the door, anticipated to kick it down if no one let you out in the next five seconds.

“꒰♡꒱, stop and take a breath,” eren’s well aware of how you get when you’re stressed out, actions turning frantic as you rest your forehead against the cold door. “baby, look at me.”

"oh, nah. we a little late for that,” you respond after you turn to face him, shaking your head. “see, you say shit like that because you know how i feel about you. you’re real good at manipulating me. real good. you make me feel like i'm drowning by the weight of my emotions. i hate this, hate this. you make me too vulnerable. and you call me baby? h-how else am i supposed to think?”

“i’m sorry,” his hands go to grab your arms. your body stiffens under his touch, a shiver running down your spine at the contact. you can't help but notice the sincerity in his eyes, the conviction in his tone. part of you wants to believe him, to accept that this is truly all there ever was between you. but the other part, the part that's been carrying a torch for him for years, refuses to let go so easily.

“please believe me when i say that. i never, ever meant to hurt you. and i truly do apologize for not being honest from the beginning. and i will continue to apologize because i genuinely feel bad.”

his voice is softer now, less defensive, more genuine. it's clear that despite his initial reluctance, he does cherish your friendship, and he values your presence in his life. but, you’re still conflicted.

"i — i don't know, eren. i don’t think i can accept that,” you whisper, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. the weight of his rejection settles heavily in your chest, making it hard to breathe.

eren hesitates briefly before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. the warmth of his body seeps into yours, providing a comforting counterpoint to the cold reality of the current situation. it stuns you, your body slowly relaxing into his hold, letting the familiar comfort wash over you. he’s laying your head endearingly on his chest, brushing his hand along the back of your head. suddenly, eren slowly pulls from you, his intense stare into your eyes blurring your thoughts, glitching when he tucks a curl behind your ear before inching his face toward yours and shockingly kissing you.

your eyes widen in surprise as his lips press against yours, the suddenness of the gesture leaving you momentarily stunned. but as the sensation registers, your body responds instinctively, melting into the kiss. your hands come up to rest on his chest, fingers digging lightly into his shirt as you return the kiss with equal fervor. the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the intensity of the moment. it's as if the last two months of hurt and confusion have never happened, and you're transported back to a time when the possibility of something more between you seemed within reach.

eren breaks the kiss abruptly, pulling back with a flush on his cheeks. you look at him, searching his eyes for any sign of discomfort or regret. but instead, you see something else entirely — desire, longing, and a hint of uncertainty. he swallows hard, opening his mouth to say something, but no words come out. instead, he closes his eyes tightly, shaking his head slightly. "fuck, i’m sorry. i don’t know why i did that,” he mutters, turning away from you.

the air grows even heavier, and you can’t help but to pull him back into your grasp, his heavy hands sitting on your hips he grips roughly to pull you closer. his mouth is back on yours within seconds, widening his jaw to deepen the kiss, your lips smacking and your back suddenly pressing against the wall. as the kiss intensifies, you moan softly, feeling a wave of heat wash over you. your hands slide from his face to his shoulders, holding him tightly.

your hips grind against his, seeking friction, craving the closeness that only he can provide. every inch of your being screams for more, for a deeper connection, for a fulfillment that only he can offer. eren groans into your mouth, his own hands roaming over your curves, tracing the contours of your body with a hunger that belies his previous reticence. he presses himself harder against you, his erection throbbing with need. his movements become more deliberate, more urgent, as if he's trying to bridge the gap between you two with every fiber of his being.

“your legs are shaking,” he whispers, now resting a hand on your inner thigh.

you nod shyly, his big hand making you pulsate. you spread your legs wider. “touch me. please."

his tongue swirls around the side of your neck as his breath tickles your skin, making you shiver slightly as he continues the kisses down to your collarbone. then, his hand moves up your thigh more, now moving it’s way under your short black skirt to pull your thong to the side, eyes rolling back into your skull when his fingers make contact with your soaked clit. a simple touch from him easily arousing you.

"talk to me. i need to hear your voice."

eren removes your shirt, needing so badly to feel your skin beneath his burning fingertips. whispering into your ear as he talks you through it, placing his fingers back onto your clit. “you're enjoying this, aren't you?"

“you make me so wet,” you whimper, raising your right thigh to give him further access.

“i bet i do,” your body prickles with fire the moment he takes your neck into his hold to choke you, his brows furrowed as the two of you listen to your sluice clit he rubs circles onto. licking his lips, he spreads your lips apart before sinking his fingers in knuckle deep, the illicit squelch making his dick shift. both of you make the same expression of pleasure, eren moaning from the strong grip your pussy has on his fingers, missing that.

despite the overwhelming pleasure, you manage to stifle your cries, biting your lip to keep silent as eren’s fingers curl inside you, stroking that sweet spot that makes your vision blur and your legs tremble. he removes them momentarily, collecting your juices to rub your hardened clit again. you pull him in to moan into his neck, tugging onto his long hair, eren responding to your silent plea by plunging his long fingers into your dripping cunt.

“mmm, fuck,” your face curls up from the heat swimming in your lower tummy. feeling the way you moan into his neck sends shock waves through his body. the grasp on his hair only makes him apply more pressure to your spot, pushing you further and further.

“look at you taking that shit. you love my fingers?”

you nod drunkenly. "yea, love your fingers."

"you love my fingers, baby?" he hums in your ear condescendingly.

"i love them so much, baby," you whine, unable to control your breath.

“fuck,” eren couldn’t take it anymore, crouching before you to hungrily latch his lips onto your clit. a high-pitched moan flows past your mouth unexpectedly, eren lifting your leg to set it on his shoulder, sucking you into his mouth, and swallowing every drip that leaks from you.

“cover your mouth, pretty. you sound too good. ima bust.” eren’s mouth never leaves your pussy as he speaks, his words muffled by your wetness.

each thrust of his fingers sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, while his tongue works on your clit, coaxing moans and whimpers from your lips. eren’s mouth works tirelessly on your pussy, his tongue lapping rapidly over your clit while his fingers pump in and out of your dripping hole. he alternates between long, slow strokes and quick, frantic thrusts, determined to wring every last moan from your lips. his free hand grabs your ass, squeezing the plump flesh as he pulls you even closer, ensuring that not an inch of your body is left untouched by his desire.

your back arches off the wall as the first shockwave of your climax rip through you, your thighs quivering and your pussy spasming around eren’s fingers. he doesn't let up, continuing to lick and suckle your clit through the aftershocks, drawing out every last drop of pleasure. as the sensations begin to subside only a little, you slump against the wall, panting heavily. eren reluctantly pulls away, his lips glistening with your juices. he looks up at you with a smirk, his own arousal still evident.

"fuck, you real sweet," he murmurs, his voice husky with lust, standing back on his feet while keeping his fingers inside of you. craving more. "you're making this really difficult for me, ꒰♡꒱.” his breath grows sharper. "you're so loud when you moan for me. tryna make everybody hear you?"

"your voice," you hiccup weakly, speaking the thought aloud, loving how he talks to you.

"you like my voice?" he hums, planting a sloppy, haste kiss amongst your pouty lips you’d bitten red. he raises his brow, repeating himself since you’re so fucked out. “you like my voice, right?"

"yes, daddy," you scream out.

"daddy? that's new," the grin is all too evident. you're too deep in your pleasure to acknowledge the embarrassment. nodding along. not seeming to care that you're barely conscious.

"erennn! m'gonna cum!" you warn, gripping onto his shifting wrist, arching your chest into his.

“gimme that shit then, baby. cum on my fingers like you always do. so goddamn needy.”

uncaring of the people outside of the closet, you whine his name loudly, gyrating your hips into his palm your pussy gushed on. as you struggle to maintain control, your orgasm builds rapidly, coiling tight in your belly before bursting forth in a torrent of ecstasy. gushing on his fingers. eren's eyes go wide, slapping his big hand over your mouth to somewhat muffle your sounds.

"shhh, fuck mamas," he stares at you with desire, keeping his fingers moving. "pussy drippin’ all on me."

you stare at him blissfully, that pretty little head of yours thinking of nothing but how good he just made you feel. how hard he made you cum. even with just his fingers, it felt like nothing you've felt before. dazed, and unable to speak, you reach to unravel the belt on his hips connected to his heaving stomach. you've got him so fucking horny he's not sure if he can stop you right now. no longer giving a fuck who hears. that's their problem. it’s their fault anyways.

"i want it," you give him widened eyes, noticing he left his head for a moment.

"i can't stop once i start, m'telling you that right now,” his breath hitches, following your guide of undoing his jeans.

"i. want. it," you repeat slowly, making it clear.

“mm, that was sexy,” he grins, pecking your lips once more. you giggle when he lifts you up, turning and pulling one of your jackets off a hanger to lay down so you won’t hurt your back, the gesture making you smile stupidly.

"this closet is too fuckin' small, my back hurts," eren complains.

his jeans are clad to his waist, small beauty marks littered around his stomach up to his chest area. v-line sharp and abdomen toned with fairly tanned skin. he exudes masculinity. his pubic hairs are dark, trimmed as usual, and his dick sits heavy on your mound, a pearl of precum forming at the tip just daring to be licked up. your mouth watered every time you observed him. his attractiveness something you’ll never forget. you gasped when he taps your clit with his dick, hearing the two of you connect makes the big man above you groan desperately.

"put it in you," he spanks your inner thigh, holding them up and open for you, his entire body arched dominantly over your small frame. “don't hurt yourself."

“ ‘kay,” you nod shyly, wrapping your palm around his dick, the skin hot and rushing with blood, sucking your pudgy stomach in and lifting your head up some more to see at a better angle. relaxing your hips, you breathe slowly, rubbing his tip up and down your entrance before carefully pulling him into yourself.

“nng,” you whimper, face scrunched up from the pain of the stretch. he’s aware by now of how much time you need to take him fully considering his size.

“breathe, babe. you think too much, that’s why it hurts,” he whispered, kissing your forehead to keep his composure. he’s only halfway in and he feels like he’s close to nutting. “let go, lemme work it in.”

you listen, laying back down fully while eren takes the lead. he’s gently swaying his hips to maneuver his way in, both of you watching it go in and out with fascination. his dick is thick, and it feels like he’s splitting you open every single time. but once he’s inside, you love that feeling of being stuffed, being completely apart of him. his body is now in full contact with your legs, eren hissing, a rumble in his throat borderline feral as he fucks you hard once he’s sure you’re okay.

because you’ve came twice, you already felt sensitive and easy to another orgasm. it didn’t mean to happen so fast, but the moment his pace picks up, his thighs clash heavily against your own as he pressed your tummy down and fucked you deep, and you cum again. squeaking and trembling beneath him, the wet patpat of his dick pounding into you making you both dizzy. eren spews expletives in repetitions silently, watching your eyes go white, pretty individuals wispy on your lash line.

he sees how much effort you're putting in to keep your noises in. “fuck them, lemme hear you.”

now his face is in yours, his moans burning your stomach even worse. it feels like a sickness how much you get off from hearing him, or any sound of weakness he makes.

"god . . eren!" you hiss in pleasure.

the heat was overbearing. the small proximity of the closet mixed with your skin connecting salaciously made you equally sweaty. beads of it sticking to eren's forehead, dampening his brown hair, turning them into curly ringlets. in no time, eren pulls himself out to fist his dick, twisting his wrist as he tugs his orgasm out of himself, cumming on your warm stomach.

“shit, baby. you feel good every fuckin’ time,” he’s leaning in to give you another kiss. he sits up on his knees, dragging your thong completely off to wipe up his mess. “i can give you better. i wasn't done."

you laugh and place your hand on his face, pushing it away with laughter. "move, boy. i need to get out of this damn closet.”

"fine," he rolls his eyes playfully, fixing his pants and standing to his feet. "ima head to the bathroom.”

"hey," you protest with a pout. "come get me, i'm sore. you fucked me into the floor.”

“i put the jacket down,” eren goes to grab for your hand and you make a disgruntled cry.

“pick me up, dummy."

to your luck the door ends up being unlocked now, and that gives you a clear explanation that they were in fact ear hustling. when eren opens the door and you’re huddled behind him shyly, the only person asleep was armin. connie ended up powering on your playstation to play the last of us two while ymir watched in agony over the storyline. the game gets immediately paused when the two of you show your faces. eren’s is stoic as usual, while yours is filled with embarrassment as you hide behind his tall figure.

“i knew y’all were fucking listening, perverts,” eren calls them out, a cocky smirk displayed on his features.

“got a little loud so we needed a distraction,” ymir replied, laughing as she stared at you. “i see you had a good time.”

“not too much,” you warn, rolling your eyes playfully.

“we talked just like y’all wanted. so, thanks for that.”

you pout. “aren't you glad we made up?"

"oh, definitely, for sure," arrogance is laced in his voice, turning back to them. "y’all got to hear us become really good friends, huh?"

there’s that word again. friends. it bothered you again. that uncomfortable feeling in your tummy daring to ruin your mood. so, you brush it off.

"y'all not g’na fight no more? cause i'm sick of it.”

"we found a new way to fight," you break in a joke.

"so remember that shower we need to take?" eren reminds you.

"shower?! aw hell, they locked in."

"bring your ass," eren swats your behind, possessively placing his hand on your hips to tug you along. you stumble next to him with a giggle, tripping over your feet up the stairs as he laughs at you, the two of you rushing towards the bathroom.

this is the first time the two of you ever shared a shower together, talking as normal as you watch each other bathe. eren admires your beauty, having a hard time keeping his hands to himself. a few moments of you swatting them away happening. you knew it was your house, so you could do whatever you wanted. but already having sex with him knowing your friends were mere inches away felt improper. as you lathered your body in soap, he traces your skin tenderly. you look up at him with starry eyes, emotions coming to full conclusion. you might actually love this man. he feels that spark, studying your face like a lovesick boy.

"what?" you ask cluelessly.

"nothing," he swallows, internally punching himself in the face. he's holding back again. unable to understand why. what's he protecting exactly? himself or you? he's unsure.

eren slips his same attire back on while you toss on an oversized nightmare on elm street t-shirt after lathering your body in baby oil. you mentioned to eren that you were hungry, and he offered to drive you anywhere you wanted to feed you. rushing down the steps in a pair, you catch only connie up this time, ymir passed out sleep on your rug flat on her back.

"finished showering?" connie asks, being slick as usual.

"it was sooo fun," you exaggerate, raising your middle finger. "we're getting food. bye!"

"bye!" eren copies with a chirp, mocking your excited wave.

since your apartment resides near the campus, the area you lived had plenty of food joints, some that would stay open later than usual. you decided on denny’s since it was seven in the morning by this point and you didn’t want to eat too heavy knowing you were going straight to sleep once you get back. the line is long and the two of you stand fairly close together. you cling to his side, making the initiative to hold his hand. eren's unsure, again, why he's withholding how he wants to feel. he drops your hand, leaving you to feel awkward and out of place almost. you felt a pang in your chest from the action, taking a deep breath, ignoring it, and waiting to be seated.

the service was pretty quick, ordering what you both wanted which was a stack of pancakes with bacon and home fries and receiving it within ten minutes. he does his best to try and enjoy his food, though his gaze keeps shifting over to you. your mood changed, he obviously noticed since you’ve barely spoken, hiding your face in your phone to avoid conversation. it's bothering him. he doesn't want to make a big deal out of this for the time being. so he decided to eat his food.

"why'd you drop my hand like that?"

he stops eating, looking at you as he sets his fork down. it takes a minute for him to figure out what you’re pressing about before he recalls. “sorry, i just didn't want people thinking the wrong thing."

that takes you aback. what the fuck? “and what would be the wrong thing?" you raise your brow with irritation.

"look, i just don't need people in my business."

"why do you care what people think?" the anger is kicking in. maybe you were overreacting. granted, you two didn't establish your relationship fully. you also didn't think it was a big deal to hold his hand. it's like your confession earlier never happened.

"i don't think it's a big deal. i would rather not have to deal with people asking uncomfortable questions. it'll lead to a lot of unnecessary drama."

"you mean with them bitches you fucked," you retaliate. "because god forbid you have a girlfriend, right?"

"who said you were my girlfriend?" eren asks rather coldly. and that makes you silent. he realizes then how rude that came out. that's not what he meant. "wait, i'm . .”

"basically, to conclude, you don't want to date me. noted."

"i never said that . . .”

"so, what then, eren? am i not good enough for you to show off? you wanna keep me a secret? like some girl you just fuck, who, by the way, you admitted your feelings for. normal people date after shit like that gets said. i don't care what people think about me, that's your problem."

“of course you don’t, there’s nothing to think about when you only spread your legs once a year. you aren’t fucking on people like i am,” he replies, a bit too quickly, a response that is barely thoroughly planned out. he tried to apologize, but the words ended up getting caught in his neck. “i —”

"end of conversation," you snarl. that was so low of him to say.

“i just meant you don’t express yourself sexually like i do. not that it’s a problem, i just have a reputation. i told you i’m not in a place to be what you want right now.”

"i’m doing my best not to punch you in your fuckin’ face right now, so i advise you to be careful what you say next. in fact, don’t say anything at all.”

words aren’t spoken for the majority of your meal after that, unable to finish all of your food since all you wanted to do was go home and cry in your pillow. he keeps toying with your heart again and again. it’s wildly frustrating. he pays the tab and you’re on your way back home, the car ride is silent as well. before you go to exit, he stops you.

"can i say one last thing before you leave?"

you turn to him, dead silent.

"i am sorry for everything i said. you're right, i shouldn't care so much about what other people think. i should've said that from the beginning, and i didn’t mean to call you out like that. that was disrespectful, i admit. i just want us to be like we used to be simply because i hate hurting you. you mean a lot to me. you’re my best friend.”

left stuck, you only say what he wants to hear. "i understand. i just need time to think."

"i understand." he says back, shifting his eyes back towards the steering wheel.

you don't seem as angry as before, mostly because you’ve mentally checked out, so he's not entirely sure what else to say. he just wanted to let you know he meant everything. but, it's far too late for that. he'd said enough a few moments ago. and it's exactly what you needed to hear to realize that he'd never be ready for you. he'd never be mature enough for a relationship. he'd never see you as his first choice. still keeping that childish mentality of fucking girls to get his nut and ruin their hearts. it's enough.

eren goes inside to grab armin and ymir to take them back to the dorm since they drove here together. connie lets himself out, everyone says goodbye, and you close your door without giving eren so much as another look.

𓇼

three months fly by and you two never contacted one another. eren noticed you avoid him on campus whenever you spot him. weeks of eyeing his phone for your text or call. he got the message clear, but it hurt his feelings, possibly on the same level he hurt yours. he stalked your account any chance he got, never missing a story. it was the only access to keeping a piece of you with him. that only lasted a month before you soft-blocked him. making your story unavailable to his eyesight but never having the balls to unfollow . . . just in case. having that small feel of hope that he'd come around and show you that he's everything you want in a man. albeit fairly likely.

all eren can do is go about his life and hope that you’d make the decision to keep him in yours. connie noticed how down eren was today, dragging him to come watch the homecoming football game. he’s dressed depressingly in black sweats with a dark green hoodie, resting his back against the bleachers with his eyes shut, trying to block out the exaggerated screams people made for the team. it’s a big game considering it’s the last before winter break, and it’s home based. eren peaked his eye open to watch connie chow down a hotdog, obnoxiously chewing and catching his irritated glare.

“is it good?” eren bluntly acknowledges.

connie raises his middle finger unspoken, ignoring his moody friend and focusing on the cheerleaders twisting and flipping. “oh, there’s ꒰♡꒱.”

eren shoots up in a flash, the hood over his head hiding most of his gorgeous face. “where?”

eren follows connie’s guide pointing in the direction you stand. and there you were, looking pretty as ever. he swore his heart skipped a beat. gorgeous face with a light beat of makeup, illuminating a soft, dollete glam with pink blush, brown lip liner, gloss, and heavy highlight on your nose and inner corner of your eyes that glowed under the beaming lights from the football field. your hair is straightened, styled in a half up half down with the bun spiked, enhancing your facial features. incredibly cut dark-washed denim shorts hugging your thighs while a baby pink oversized jersey covers your top halve.

eren studies you like a lover does poetry, heart awestruck by your beauty, your aura radiating halfway across the field. god, he misses you so damn much. that daydream lala land in his head comes to an immediate halt when he spots a guy laughing in your face as the two of you bump noses in a disgustingly cute eskimo kiss. the muscles in eren’s jaw shifts, his eyes lowering and darkening as his posture changes. straightening his back and spreading his legs wide before he’s moving his neck and chest forward like a venomous snake, observing your interaction intently.

it’s honestly scary how quickly his anger consumes him, his entire body going up in flames as he stares at the two of you like a giant crow hiding in the trees. his body is solid, barely even breathing as he finds torture in you pouring gatorade into this man’s mouth, his helmet in one hand while the other brushes your hair away from your face, bright white teeth shining as he smiles at you. you use a towel to dab off any excess sweat from his brown skin. then, eren realizes something. he knows this guy.

onyankopon. a quarterback, a valedictorian in high school, and a student in his physics class. eren grows jealous. it was clear to him that you had a thing for him, eren trying to avoid showing any hints of jealousy so connie wouldn't bring it up even if deep down inside, he felt it. eren watches you giggle in onyankopon's face. he's way too close to you. it bothers him beyond comprehension. you and onyankopon have been messing around for the exact time you broke contact with eren. fucking around every now and thence, attending classes, and enjoying your life since it didn’t end when the man you were madly in love with rejected you. you were attracted to him for sure. he made you laugh, cooked for you, taught you how to ride his motorcycle. . a bunch of lovey shit you never felt before. but, your feelings for eren ruined any chance for you to be fully devoted.

it’s hard for eren to even sit through the remainder of this game, barely paying attention to the players and eyeing you almost the entire time. cheering, jumping up and down whenever onyankopon made a move let alone breathed. you’re like a goddamn fan girl. your friends seem to encourage you, purposely pushing you into him at times when he ran back over for your opinion. it’s like he finally exhales when the games over, connie knocking him from his trance of scrutiny.

“yo, let’s go. we gotta party to get to.”

the sigh is loud from eren, exasperated so. “who the fuck said i was up for a party? we have finals in two days. you dragged me from studying for this shitty ass game.”

connie raises his hands in defense. “woah, fucker. you gotta stick up your ass, pull it out.”

“i’m going home.”

as eren begins to rise, connie refuses to move out of his path. “this is about ꒰♡꒱, isn’t it?”

his shoulders raise defensively. “tread lightly, con.”

“save me the bullshit, eren. for once just act like you give a fuck about the girl and go talk to her. this has been a repetition. how are you ever going to solve issues if you’re constantly running from them?”

“she doesn’t want to speak to me. she made that extremely clear.”

“did she say that, or did you just make her feel it?”

eren didn’t have time for confrontation, stretching his leg over the bench to cross over him, walking away. “whatever, man. i’ll see you.”

connie clenched his jaw, scoffing. “see, that’s your damn problem now! you can’t admit when you fuck up. that girl loves you to death and you keep playing in her fucking face! now you’re mad ‘cause you see her with somebody else. that’s bullshit and you know it.”

eren stops in his tracks, and pulls the hood off his head before slowly turning back in his direction. “okay, maybe you’re right. i’m a fuck up. she already made up her mind by ignoring me for three months. i’m not forcing anything.”

“how do you know she’s not waiting for you to step up and finally do the chasing?” connie arches his brow. eren rolls his lips. “you had that girl hoping and waiting for you to finally reciprocate your feelings, and you lead her on back to back. she chased after you while you thought with your dick for other women. i’m sure she’ll be at the party. go find her and talk to her. and if she’s not fuckin’ with it, then you’ll know to really leave it alone. simple as that.”

and that’s how eren ended up at the party. it was packed, obviously. they’d won the big game and chose this celebration as an excuse to get fucked up. connie smoked with eren for a bit before he disappeared to talk to some girl he’d been trying to date. eren's drinking heavy liquor, conversing somewhat with some people he knew to clear his head a little. there’s a few women who try to shoot their shot towards him, but he politely declines. the ‘my girl is here’ line seems to work. speaking of, he can't help but be distracted by you. seeing you dance with your friends, act a fool, and flirt with onyankopon whilst sitting on his lap. it enrages him in a way he can't explain.

not to mention you're wearing his varsity jacket, snuggled into it. this is the last thing eren wanted to find. he wasn't planning on his blood boiling as he stood at the doorway, knocking back the remainder of his hennessy and approaching you the minute he watched onyankopon stick his tongue in your mouth, the two of you lost in each other as you kissed. he doesn’t comprehend his own body movements when he brushes through a sea of people to come your way.

"what the fuck are you doing, ꒰♡꒱?" eren interrupts, glaring at you furiously. he had a right to be mad, right? weren't you the one who ignored him? blocked him? avoided him?

you're stunned to see him, let alone hear what came out of his mouth. "excuse me?" you retort, shellshocked by his behavior.

"some nerve you have to act like i don't fuckin’ exist for three months, then i catch you sitting on somebody's lap like it's nothing," he's being outright rude and blunt, unsure if he's aware of it. could've been the alcohol, or what he's been feeling for months piling up into one bubble. and he finally let it burst.

onyankopon grows irritated by this. not only did he interrupt the two of you, but he was talking out his mouth crazy. "i know you ain't talking to her like that."

"i don't remember stuttering. i'm looking dead at her, aren't i?" eren's stern with his remark.

his statement is senile, your head immediately pounding with a migraine from his stupid ass attack. that's when you get mad. "what? last time we spoke, you told me you didn't want to be with me and only saw me as someone you wanted to fuck on the low. so what the fuck makes you think it's okay to yell in my face about some shit you ended?!"

"oh, he's lost his fuckin mind," onyankopon chuckles sinisterly, not even giving him a chance to reply. shaking his head in a 'this nigga got me fucked up' kinda way. your heart speeds up in panic as onyankopon's hands hold onto either side of your waist before he gently lifts you to stand along with you. "eren, right?"

eren can feel his cheeks burn, the anger intensifying now that he's face to face with onyankopon. your heart is ready to drop out of your chest at the thought of them fighting right now. please, no. "i'm sure you knew that, don't ask stupid questions."

anyone can see the heat building up in onyankopon's eyes, the people in the area whispering to one another while watching. your anxiety is skyrocketing. two big men fighting over you would be hot inside of a novel, yes. but you hated the idea of violence. especially from men. it triggered your flight mode and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a ball and cover your ears like a scared child. "guys, wait —"

"nah, baby. let him finish," his hand goes up insinuating a pause. "nigga got so much shit to say to you on some pussy shit. be a man and talk to me.”

before you get the chance to say anything, eren’s fist goes flying into onyankopon’s nose, his head aggressively knocking to the side, looking as if it spun off his neck for a moment. "how's that for some pussy shit?"

gasps fill along the room, your hand going to your mouth as you watch onyankopon swing back, connecting his hit back. two of his teammates go to hold him back, knowing this isn’t some shit he needed to get into right now. you take the initiative to grab eren’s attention, knowing it’s dumb to jump between men in rage, but you felt like only you could stop him right now. his face is as red as a tomato, grabbing and tugging at his shirt with all of your strength he’s surprised you can even move him. almost stumbling over from your aggression. onyankopon’s friends drag him away from the situation before it got worse. in the process, he noticed you didn’t look his way not once, not even to check if he was alright.

"eren, chill!" you finally snap. "let's go out back and talk. you're fucking embarrassing me."

everyone watches as you drag him by his shirt like a bad ass child, shoving open the door that lead to the back area of the fraternity house, a few people there but you find a spot under a tree further down the hill. finally letting go, you take a few steps away from him, ready to blow from the anger streaming in your veins. thankfully, the smell from the lake and the wind blowing soothed you in some way. your arms are crossed over your chest, listening to the muffled noise of music booming inside the house and shutting your eyes.

“eren, what are you doing here?”

“connie dragged me here. believe me, i would’ve never come. especially after seeing you two boo’d up at the game. he your man now?”

a sarcastic snort comes from you, twisting your body and looking his way. it’s been months since you’ve made contact with this man, and his aura still pulls you in. you truly despised it. “you need to apologize to him for starting an unnecessary fight. you don’t even know him to be acting like that.”

adding salt to the already open wound, eren responds with a petty shrug and a scoff. “he had that shit coming.”

“wow,” the smile lines around your mouth deepen and your lower lip pokes out as you frown, making an expression of disbelief. "you have a lot of nerve acting like you're my boyfriend when you settled for friendship only. do you not recall? or do i need to refresh your dry ass memory?”

he's bitter about the situation still, that’s clear as day. he also assumed you were okay after the conversation you had in the car that night. but, he was wrong. he remains silent, fearing that his jumbled thoughts would fuck up what he really wanted to say.

"if you couldn't see that i was hurt about what you told me that night, then you truly don't care. i kept my distance because you knew how i felt about you and you chose to be oblivious. i met ony and he made me forget about you. then you break back into my life whenever it's convenient for you. i'm not going to be available for you on your terms."

"so you're using him to get over me?"

"as i'm allowed to because you're not my man!" you narrow your brows. "aren’t you the same one that said i only spread my legs once a year? you’re mad ‘cause it’s not for you anymore, right?”

“you know i didn’t mean it like that.”

“me and ony are just friends. whatever we got going on is none of your concern."

"it's my concern if we gonna be together. therefore, he gotta go."

"oh, now you wanna be with me," you scoff. "you're three months — no . . six months late. if you don't recall, you tried this shit before our friends forced us to make up. again, due to your ignorance of my emotions. i shouldn't have to wait for you to decide whether or not i'm worth being in your future. i am not a fantasy! i'm not here for you to fuck when you need to feel something! i deserve someone who's going to love me and give me the romance i crave! you don’t care enough about me no matter what you say.”

tears are welling in your eyes now, and that breaks eren's heart beyond measure. "꒰♡꒱ . . ."

"fuck, i didn't want you to see me cry," you sniffle, wiping your eyes aggressively.

he let the alcohol completely steer him away from his initial goal, and that was to speak to you like connie had got on his ass about. not make you upset. he doesn’t understand why he keeps breaking his promise to stop hurting you.

“i'm horrible when it comes to making any commitments. that, you were right about before,” he states, your eyes drawing back to his. "it wasn't fair of me to invalidate your feelings all those times. i knew you wanted to be with me, i just couldn't bring myself to be honest about what i wanted. more so, i didn't know what i wanted at the time. but being disconnected from you, my best friend . . it hurt my fucking soul."

the oversized varsity jacket clinging to your body brings you comfort, wrapping it tighter around yourself out of anxiousness. the scent of onyankopon’s cologne on the fabric brings you even more sadness. you feel bad for what happened, needing to find him to apologize when you get the chance.

"i have so, so many regrets when it comes to you. so much time wasted, things that could've been avoided had i been mature and upfront. expecting you to be available to me because of our relationship was wrong of me. using you was wrong of me. leading you on, pushing you away, fucking with other girls when you were right here . . it was selfish of me, and i'm a dick for it all, i admit that. and i want nothing more than to apologize and make up for all i've done. you didn't fucking deserve that."

suddenly, he's holding your face in his hands as you weep, both of you unsure of when you broke the distance between you two. "please, please don't cry baby. i'm so sorry."

words could only mean so much. you weren't sold yet. if he wants you for real, he's going to have to make a better offer than just words. false promises were a learned matter with him. he needed to prove how much you mean to him.

"i'll do everything in my power to make sure that i am the man you deserve," he whispers, his hold on your face beginning to tighten as you pull him closer by his shirt out of habit. "promise i'll treat you right. i'll never make you feel like you're someone to fix me when i'm going through shit or i'm horny. i'll never make you feel like you have to compete with other women again. i'll never take you for granted again."

his face is now inches away from yours. his voice, his scent, the warmth he brings, it makes you feel so vulnerable. . . so safe. like that invisible string never broke. eren screaming with hope within, praying you reply. it feels so good to feel your body pressed against his, the scent of your conditioner wafting into his nostrils. he hugs you tightly, afraid that he'll lose you. he's been craving this for so long.

"i missed this. i missed you," he murmurs between your neck, his grasp becoming a little tighter. you feel his chest slowly rising and falling as a soft sigh escapes his lungs. as the silence continues to grow between the two of you, it's becoming harder for you to find the words you want to say to him.

"say what you want to say," it's like he read your mind, swallowing deeply before pulling your face back to eye level. he looks down at you.

"i can’t accept your apology."

eren slowly pulls away from you, a frown on his face and heartache yanking at his chest. it’s his karma, he knew that well. there was no reason to push you into something you no longer wished for. you’d made up your mind, and he just had to live with that. in the future, possibly learning from his mistake. he swallows, nodding as he backs away, accepting your answer indefinitely.

“if that’s how you truly feel, then i will respect your boundaries. i’m truly sorry, again. i hate to leave things behind on a bad note, so i wanna tell you that i pray you find the love you deserve, and that i wish you nothing but the best.”

a final touch of his lips lands on your cheek. eren’s giving you one last smile before turning to walk away. a broken weep cracks from you, lower lip trembling as you hug yourself tightly like he had only seconds ago. he’s halfway gone before you watch him pause, eyes unable to bring them from his figure. you felt like you’d lose the memory of him if you didn’t look. this felt like a horrible breakup neither one of you wanted to end.

eren’s caught reaching into his jean pocket, pulling out his wallet before he approached you once more, the sadness on your face making this worse for him. “i almost forgot.”

out of nowhere, eren grabs your hand, opening your palm and placing a cold object into it. you stare confusingly, leveling your palm towards your face to see a sterling silver necklace. it’s a simple piece of jewelry with a single initial. the letter ‘e’.

"i’ve been meaning to give this to you for a while. i carried it with me every day,” he smiles warmly.

a mix of surprise and shock washes over you, your brown eyes blown wide like a deer in headlights, or a girlfriend being proposed to. you stare at the necklace in your palm, feeling the featherweight of it, the cool metal against your skin. memories flood your mind — all those times you shared laughing together, graduating high school, sneaking out to see each other, sharing secrets, dreams, and hopes. this symbol represents all of that, and yet, it also reminds you of the pain, the betrayal, the shattered trust. your gaze flickers up to meet eren's, seeing the desperation in his eyes, the vulnerability, the raw emotion. part of you still loves him, still wants to believe in him, in your relationship. but the other part is screaming at you to protect yourself, to move on, to forget.

"e as in eren," you gasp, lip still trembling.

"well, yea," he laughs softly. it’s a tangible connection to you, even if things have changed. eren watches your reaction closely, hoping against hope that seeing the necklace might change your mind about him. he swallows hard, his throat tight with emotion. "i was planning on giving it to you when the time was right, even though i wasn’t exactly sure when that would be. i know it's not much, but . . i thought maybe you could keep it as a reminder of our friendship. of everything we shared."

he reaches out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your skin. "please, ꒰♡꒱,” he whispers, his voice cracking. "don’t throw it away. keep it close to your heart, and remember that i’ll always be here for you, no matter what happens between us."

you notice how close he is to you, and you feel a small amount of nervousness start to set in again. but, you don’t let it show in your expressions, focusing instead on trying to hold yourself together. this was a lot. you’ll always cherish the memories you have together, but, was this really goodbye? did you want him to completely disappear from your life? he’s someone who’s been apart of it for so long. you couldn’t imagine life without him. three months was hard enough, even the two before that. you didn’t want him to be a stranger. you didn’t want him to never speak to you again. you didn’t want to sever your relationship entirely — your connection.

“i love you, ꒰♡꒱. i really mean that.”

before he gets the chance to touch you one last time, you're leaning in first, lifting yourself by your tiptoes to press your lips into his. his nose smushed against yours, inhaling sharply as he grabbed your throat, kissing you deeper. as always, you melt into his touch like putty, your entire body bursting with fire when his fingertips brush against your hips under your jersey, pulling you into him harder than he intended. scared to let you go. eren grunts into your mouth when you moan into him, gliding his tongue across yours salaciously, his back arched to bend to your level. another hand huge on the side of your face while he kisses you passionately, turning his head slightly to the side while maintaining his clutch around your throat.

eren gasps into the kiss, the sudden surge of warmth flooding his senses. his mind goes blank as he loses himself in the sensation of your lips against his, your taste filling his mouth. the hand on your hip tightens instinctively, drawing you closer until there's no space left between you. the unexpected kiss throws him off balance, but he doesn't care. all he knows is that he's lost in the moment, the tension between you both finally breaking. his free hand moves to cup your cheek, thumb stroking over your skin as he deepens the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours.

“fuck, i love you,” he repeats again, now applying pressure to your ass he squeezes and lifts, his bulge hitting your stomach. it makes your gut flip when he bites your lip, your hands unknowingly trailing up his abdomen, the bumpy path of his abs giving you flashbacks.

now, he’s kissing along your jawline, down your neck, his tongue tracing the curve of your collarbone. his hands are everywhere, roving over your body, caressing and gripping like he can’t get enough of the way you feel against him. his lips move up to your ear where his breath tickles you, your inner thighs locking tight. he murmurs softly into your ear, “i want you . . need you so badly. can i?”

he sounds slightly breathless, his need for you obvious in his low tone. “can i touch you . . please?”

“where’s your car?”

there’s a pause as he registers your question, his mind slightly clouded from the feeling of you against him. “down the street, why?”

“take me.”

“you sure?” he asks. even though the desire for you is written all over his face, there’s a hint of hesitation and question in his tone. he needs to be sure this is something you truly want, even if your body speaks before you do.

“yeah, i’m sure.”

he takes your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours, and leads you down the hill to where his car is parked. you’re not sure what time it is, but the streets are nearly empty, only a few people roaming around drinking and smoking, the party is still very much still happening. tucking your hand into your pocket, you drop the necklace safely there, feeling protected and giddy as you trail behind him. his frame is so much bigger than yours, staring at the back of his head where he had his hair half tied up, wanting to bury your face into his back to smell him. you spot his black r34 gtr and within seconds you’re standing in front of it, almost as if you teleported. he must’ve been walking really fast.

he releases your hand to dig for his keys, unlocking his car and opening the passenger side to adjust the seat fully up and make enough room for you both. you’re more at ease knowing his windows were tinted, illegally the blackest of black. with each inhale, he can feel the intensity of the situation starting to build up once again, raising his body only to have you push into him, his body leaning against his car as you squish your lips back into his, growing impatient.

"wait. ." he paused in between kisses, the heat between your thighs becoming unbearable as he hissed into your mouth. "backseat, now."

his eyes are trained on your ass as he watches you duck low and climb in the back, practically shoving you inside as he looks over his shoulder before following behind not a moment later. the space is snug, his broad body compared to your own not making the best room, but he’ll make it work. eren pushes you down onto the backseat, covering your body with his own as he resumes kissing you, hands sliding under your shirt to fondle your tits. the way the two of you kiss is feverish, open-mouthed with heavy pants of desperation. the way you equally missed each other spoke loudly through it.

“take this shit off, it smells like him,” eren possessively begins to tug at the varsity jacket clinging to you. forgetting you still had it on.

“sorry.”

he tosses it to the front once it’s off, clutching your throat and tugging at your denim shorts with his unoccupied hand. you understand silently, unzipping them and lifting yourself in an awkward way to remove them along with your pale pink new balances. eren has one knee digging into the seat while he balances himself above you by holding the driver's seat headrest, the other foot flat on the floor as he watches you like you’re prey.

“you’re so damn pretty, baby. miss you,” his hands go to smooth over your inner thighs up to your knees, your shirt rising to your midsection.

"mhm, show me how much you missed me," you spread your thighs, pink lace thong swallowing your curves, giving him the obvious hint while balancing yourself on your elbows.

eren’s mouth waters at the sight, your pussy already leaking for him, the material swallowing you up real good. he mutters ‘fuck’ under his breath, wetting his lips and pushing your knees to your chest, cuffing a finger into the band to pull to the side, groaning at the sight of your bare skin, glistening in your slick with your clit hiding between your lips. he knows he just needs to spread them to see her fully, his favorite part. the soft texture of his tongue carefully begins to graze against your skin, sucking and taking in the smell of your body. a surprised squeak escapes your throat as you feel his finger press against your tight entrance.

"no fingers," his dick jumps from the command, moaning as he spanks the outside of your thigh gently while running his tongue over his bottom lip. "just your tongue."

“y’not gonna let me feel her?” eren coed teasingly, whimpering when he smacks you again while leaving a sloppy kiss onto the mound of your pussy. “stretch her out f’this dick?”

you crack a grin, back resting on the door while you scoot your ass further down to grind onto his face. “not yet.”

the sudden sensation of your hands in his hair only fuels eren’s arousal further once you draw him closer, growing needy. his thick tongue slithers out his mouth, pooling with salvia as it laps at your clit with renewed vigor, the taste you leave on his tongue sweet and tangy — intoxicating, driving him wild with lust. it’s so damn good he can’t help but spank the outside of your thigh near your ass, the vibration going straight to your clit and it’s almost like he can feel it when it hits you. moaning into your pussy he gives sloppy kisses while your thighs shake.

“mmm, yesss," you moan in approval, needing him to do it again. until you're bruised.

his face heats up from the noises you make, a reddish tint on his cheekbones as he shifts his jaw to suck your clit into his mouth, slick dousing his chin as he pulls your puffy clit between his lips to tug and release.

"keep going," you arch into him. eren smacks you again, a little harder, and a broken, high pitched hiccup erupts from you, followed by a dragged out moan of his name.

with a final swipe of his tongue, he feels your body shudder and convulse around him. your cries fill the air as you cum hard, coating his face with your essence. he laps it up greedily, humming and savoring every drop. you didn’t expect to cum that quickly, face heating up from shyness as you cover your face and whine. eren chuckles into your pussy, spluttering as he detaches his lips and buries his face within the curve of your hip bone, unable to stop himself from laughing. it’s silly because this is the second time this has happened. the first being when he ate you out on the hood of his car after getting tipsy during game night. feeling like the alcohol influenced it, but he knows you didn’t drink tonight since he kept an eye on you.

“shut uppp!”

“that literally took a minute!” he’s clutching his stomach now.

“you know i’m sensitive,” you pout, popping him on the arm. “make me cum again. unless you can’t.”

“mhm,” eren nods his head cockily, shocking you when he spanks your clit, scarily switching from playful to dominant. “don’t say that shit when you know it’s wrong.”

eren takes a seat on the opposite side, pulling you to sit on your knees, leaning over him as his eyes lock onto yours filled with a primal hunger. your palming at his thighs still covered in dark jeans, using it to balance your weight as eren stretches his left arm behind you to rub your clit with his fingers, collecting your arousal before sinking his pointer and middle into you. he quickened his pace, pumping his hand faster as he fingers your soppy cunt.

the combination of his hand movements and the sensation of your warm breath on his face sends him spiraling. "fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his voice strained with effort. “can’t wait to have this pussy on me.”

“eren, touch yourself,” you whine, petting at the shape in his jeans, undoing his button and dragging down his zipper.

eren keens almost submissively, lifting his hips so you can push his jeans down to his knees, eren releasing his hard dick that throbs excessively in his hold. it’s big and pretty, just like you remembered. a dick you’ll never forget for sure. the curve of it makes it touch his stomach, eren rushing his thumb over the tip, wincing from sensitivity and stroking it vertically away from him.

"let me spit on it," you chew at your lips, rocking your ass back into his hand, every touch making you feral, inner thighs soaked.

eren nods with lidded eyes, his breath hitching as he waits for your saliva to coat his slickened fingers. the thought of your spit adding another layer of lubrication to his dick makes him even hotter. gathering your salvia on your tongue, you purse your lips together before spitting onto his dick, a cute ‘puh’ emitting as the two of you watch it trail onto his ring covered fingers, eren groaning and twisting his wrist to spread it along his length.

“just like that," he encourages, his voice barely above a whisper. "stroke your hand over it, baby. c’mon.”

you moan, wrapping your hand over it, piled on top of his own. you suck your lips inwardly, face curled up same as his as the two of you beat his dick, the squelching from both your hands and his fingers in your pussy making you equally dizzy. he hisses while keeping his eyes on your face, just looking at you enough to bring him over the edge.

"more?” you ask, the trail of spit already falling from your mouth before he can respond, eren momentarily removing his hand, dick jumping from the reaction as you fist his dick before he does. his overlapping yours this time.

eren’s response is a strangled cry as he feels the pressure building to a crescendo. your skilled hand working in tandem with his own is too much for him to resist. "yes, fuck yeah," he grits out, his body tensing as he prepares to explode.

"tell me you love me,” you kiss him softly, your tongue exploring his mouth, tasting him.

"f-fuckin' love you, mamas," obediently, eren guides your stroking hand over his near-spent cock, growing sensitive from the erotic intensity. each gentle, wet stroke sends aftershocks rippling through his core, leaving him shuddering and panting.

"one more time, baby.”

"love you, nngh, love you.”

"i love you too."

laying your head on his thigh, he continues to fuck you with his fingers, the squelch of your pussy bouncing off the car windows, continuing their relentless assault. the lewd sounds of your arousal draw him closer to his climax. he can feel your body responding to his touch, your juices coating his digits as he plunges them deeper inside you. with a final, needy thrust of his hips, he unleashes a torrent of cum, coating your joined hands in his hot release.

"that’s it," he whispers huskily, his voice raw with satisfaction. you bring his dick to your face, sticking your tongue out and enclosing your lips around him as you jerk him into your mouth. sucking him off. "ooh, fuck, like that. keep touching me."

“eren . . baby, your fingers are s’long,” a shudder forms, squealing and rocking your ass back harder to meet the quickened pace of him fucking you open. he’s pushing you to the brink.

"think you can cream on ‘em?” he teases, his voice husky with desire. he’s using both hands now, the other hitting your ass hard in repetitions, refusing to stop, the action echoing in the small space. "can you? i wanna see you do it. gimme sum to lick up.”

"f-fuck, y-yess. i can give it to you,” you arch your back. “oh my god.”

encouraged by your eager response, eren doubles his efforts, his fingers curling inside you to hit that sweet spot that makes your muscles clench and a pornographic shout break loose, eren drawing out a ‘yeaaa, baby’, fucking you faster, unoccupied fingers sprawled along your plump ass. his voice fucking with you all over again.

“mmm. just cum on ‘em. wanna feel it again,” eren’s grip on your hip tightens as he feels your body tense, grinding his palm against your puffy clit.

your sobs are rewarding, your ass burning from his impacts and you give him what he wants like he asked. creaming over his fingers as you cum for the second time, your tummy caving in as you drool on his leg and prolong a whine. body shaking violently with your legs.

"goddamn. good girl. good girl. you’re so fucking tight," he groans, tasting you off his fingers before going under your stomach to thumb circles on your swollen clit in rhythm with more thrusts. the friction against your clit causes you to scream again, lifting your upper body to distract him by kissing his neck, his ultimate weakness.

“ooh, you bad girl,” he snarls, his breath coming in ragged gasps. your tongue slicks across his throat before leaving hot kisses, climbing onto his lap by balancing your body on your toes, clutching his shoulders for support as you squat above him.

eren knows your intention and follows suit, sliding his back down the seat and spreading his legs further apart. reaching behind himself, he leans slightly forward to pull off his hoodie from his backside, his hair getting fuzzy in the process until you smooth it back in place. eren’s hands slide underneath your hot thighs, hooks his arms under your knees, and spread your legs wider apart to accommodate the thickness of his dick as he finally pushes into you.

“oooh, fuck,” the two of you moan in unison, jaws agape with heavy pants.

the lewd sounds of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the car, a symphony of raw, animalistic passion. and just like that, he surrenders to the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. he loses himself in the moment, pace frenzied, focusing solely on how good it feels to be buried deep inside you after so long, trying to milk him for everything he's got. you arch into him, that warm feeling coursing through your heart that you haven’t felt since that night in the closet. that feel of worship. eren spanks you again, a little harder and a broken, high-pitched hiccup erupts from you, followed by a dragged out moan of his name.

he steadily lifts you up and down onto his dick as you switch your hips to ride him. the view from below is turning him on — tits bouncing with each movement, your face contorted in pleasure. he raises his hips to meet your downward motion with equal force, driving himself to the depth with each bounce. skin slapping mingling with your moans, pushing you down with the fingers sprawled across your backside, pussy swallowing all of him.

“you’re doing so well, baby," he praises, his voice a soothing murmur. "just breathe through it." as he inches farther, he captures your lips in a tender kiss, pouring all his love and devotion into the embrace.

"bite me, please,” you whimper desperately, knocking your head back to expose your neck. "need it."

eren’s eyes gleam with wicked intent, not hesitating to bite into you, knowing how much you have a kink for it. you shriek when his teeth sink into your soft flesh, the steady pressure of them is a mind fuck. the bite is firm yet gentle enough not to hurt you. the sharp pain quickly being replaced by an intoxicating rush of pleasure, sending jolts of arousal coursing through your veins. his tongue laves at the spot after letting go, soothing it with languid strokes while his other hand roams over your body, tracing patterns across your curves.

"you are mine," he swats your ass, pounding faster. "you will always be mine. and you will never run from that."

you shake your head drunkenly, pupils rolling white, lashes fluttering. "won't run, promise rennie!”

"you belong to me,” he says once more, wanting you to repeat. eren’s words are punctuated by another slap of his hand, and by this point you’re sure you’re bruised, each strike a claim of ownership. your knees buckle beneath you, but he holds you up, his strong arms locked around you like a demon in heat.

"i belong to you, baby.”

he increases the speed and intensity of his movements, driving you towards the precipice of ecstasy. you're dripping wet and moaning, your slick coating his cock as he pounds into you. wrapping your arms tightly around his neck while he slams you down. eren’s hands roam over your curves, spreading your cheeks apart as he pulls you down onto his dick with fervor. each thrust is deeper, harder, driven by a primal urge to claim you utterly.

“fuck, mng. g’na . . cum,” you blubber, biting your bottom lip as he pounds into you.

“look at me, i wanna see your face when i make you cum,” he orders, his voice raw with desire.

giving him your attention, you struggle to fully keep them open, every vigorous yank and thrust coaxing that bubbly feeling in your gut. he can feel your walls tightening around him, signaling your impending orgasm. "that’s it, baby," he coos, nibbling on your earlobe. "give it to me. gimme that shit. lemme feel it.”

he shifts his position slightly, angling his hips to hit that sweet spot within you that makes your toes curl and your walls clench even tighter around him. the new angle allows him to hit even harder, stroking along your inner walls with each upward thrust.

"take. it. all. baby," he growls between pauses, his breath hot against your ear. when you finally topple over the edge, he swallows your cries with a searing kiss, his own body trembling with unspent need.

"꒰♡꒱ . . fuck," eren pants, his forehead pressed against yours as he loses himself in the rhythm of your joining, stilling his trembling hips and cumming inside of you, having no strength to pull out. he knows you’re on birth control so he didn’t have to worry.

"oh my fuckin' god," the delicious shiver coursing through your body felt like the ultimate high. brushing your fingers through the strands of his brown hair that had long fallen from it's hair tie. he leans into your soothing ministrations, savoring the intimate connection between you as he slowly comes back down to earth.

you sit like this for a while, eren going soft and lifting you off of him to properly sit you on his lap after dressing himself and you. your legs rest over his while he presses his forehead to yours, still trying to regain his energy.

“oh, i forgot,” you opened your eyes after intimate slow breathing, reaching to the front to search for onyankopon's jacket. you dig into the pocket to retrieve the necklace he’d given you. “put it on me?”

“of course,” taking the necklace from your hand, he brushed your hair from your shoulders and carefully fastened it around your neck. "you look beautiful," he whispered, his voice tinged with genuine affection.

“thank you,” you smile sweetly, playing with the jewelry. “i love it.”

“i always knew you would.”

silence overtakes you for a moment, sitting on your thoughts unwarranted. too much happened today, and your brain was swarming with panic trying to figure out what right move to make. you were tired of overthinking. you just wanted to live in the moment. consequences will come later. what's meant to be will be.

“promise you’ll keep your word this time. no more fights, no more misunderstandings, or playing with my heart. i don’t think i can take another heartbreak. i’ll die.”

sincere contrition casts eren’s expression from your words, gnawing at him all over. eren pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. despite the weight of what's happened between you, despite the pain and hurt, there's an unspoken understanding that you're both willing to move past it.

"i swear on my life i’ll never hurt you like that again. i know i’ve got a lot to make up for, but you mean everything to me,” he murmurs, nuzzling your neck gently. "i love you too much. i’m never taking that for granted.”

tears well up in your eyes as you stare at eren, searching for any sign of deception. but all you see is sincerity, a depth of emotion that takes your breath away. you nod slowly, trying to hold back the flood of tears.

“okay,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “i forgive you.”

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pseudowho · 5 months

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Papamin's Big Day

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When your first baby was 8 weeks old, she was booked in for her routine vaccinations. You were anxious, tense about seeing your tiny baby in pain.

Kento took the event very seriously indeed. He read all of the latest medical guidance on what to expect before, during and after the vaccinations. He stocked the house with two different types of newborn pain relief. He bought your favourite snacks, certain you'd be stressed and upset.

He booked three days off work, to be there on the day, and for the potential 48 hours of fever afterwards. He reassured you, constantly; the gentle, sincere reassurance of man used to far more stressful situations.

"Darling, she'll be absolutely fine," Kento mumbled into the top of your hair, one enormous hand stroking your trembling back, while the other held your tiny daughter, asleep in her car seat, "She'll hardly feel a thing. She won't remember a thing."

The Nurse was friendly, sweet, and experienced. You twisted your hands as she handed you information leaflets, and Kento nodded, calm and impassive, as she told him all the information he already knew. As the Nurse prepared the three injections, Kento turned to you, one great hand squeezing your thigh.

"I'll hold her?" He asked, and you nodded, mouth puckered as Kento kissed your forehead again. He reached two hands into the car seat, your tiny baby looking so dwarfed in his palms as he lifted her out onto his lap, gently undressing her as she scrunched, squeaking, cradled on his thighs. Kento shushed her, lifting her to his chest, nuzzling his nose into her hair. The picture of calm.

"Alright then! All ready, mummy and daddy?" The Nurse chirped, approaching with a sterile tray of vaccinations. You steeled yourself. Kento nodded, brisk.

It was all over in under ten seconds. Three swift needles, two to one thigh, and one to the other. Your baby girl's pain reaction was delayed for a moment, before she shrieked, a confused little cry, a cacophony of appalled tiny wails.

"Oh-- oh baby, my baby, come here," you cried, your face scrunched as you scooped her into your arms, cradling her under your chin, and bopping her around the room with bum-pats and shushes.

A few moments of tiny newborn cries passed...until you heard one heaving, strangled sob behind you. You turned round to Kento.

Kento stood, shaking as he faced the window, one arm wrapped across his chest to hold his elbow, the other hand cupping his face. You heard barely suppressed sniffles, and quiet gruff breaths.

"Kento, are you--...are you crying?"

"No, no, I'm-- I'm fine," Kento wept, sliding tears away with long fingers. Another sob wracked across his broad shoulders, more tears spilling down his face, sobbing again when his daughter wailed another pained cry.

The Nurse looked from Kento, to you, to Kento, silent as the grave. You walked slowly over to Kento, whose tears began to slow, giving his daughter a watery smile when she looked up at him with a quizzical, tearstained face.

Kento scooped her into his arms, drying his tears on her tiny velvet head. You rubbed Kento's arm, squeezing it, trying to stop your heart from bursting, with a little smile.

"Kento, do you...should we...go and get you a sandwich?" Kento sniffled, giving his daughter a kiss, nodding his thanks to the Nurse.

"Yes, uh...yes. I'd like that. Sorry."

"Don't...dont be sorry."

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dragons-and-handcuffs · 1 month

Text

Aegon Targaryen x niece!wife!Reader

Aegon loves you with all his heart, knowing very well that you might never feel the same for him

The fire crackled softly in the hearth of the royal chambers, casting flickering shadows against the stone walls. The warmth from the flames should have comforted you, but there was a persistent coldness within you that could not be shaken. You sat quietly in your chair, gazing at the elaborate tapestry hanging on the wall, your mind miles away, yet your heart weighed down by the present reality.

The silence was broken by the creak of the heavy oak door opening. You didn’t have to turn to know who had entered. Aegon’s presence was unmistakable, the air shifting slightly with his arrival. He stepped into the room with a quiet confidence, yet his eyes—those familiar, intense eyes—betrayed a softness when they landed on you.

"My love," he said gently, his voice steady yet laden with a yearning that you could hear every time he spoke to you. "I brought you something."

You turned your head ever so slightly to see him approach, carrying a small box wrapped in the finest silk. His movements were deliberate, careful as if he feared startling you. When he reached your side, he knelt, lowering himself to your eye level. You caught the faintest scent of dragon leather and embers that always seemed to cling to him—both powerful and comforting.

"You didn’t have to," you whispered, your voice soft as a feather. Aegon smiled, but there was sadness beneath the surface. He knew you would say that. He always knew. And yet, he continued to offer you gifts—silks, jewels, rare books, and delicate trinkets—anything that might bring a flicker of joy to your troubled heart.

"I know," he replied, placing the box in your lap. "But I wanted to."

His fingers lingered near your hands for a moment before retreating, as if he longed to touch you but feared you would recoil from his affection. You stared down at the box, your fingers trembling slightly as you unraveled the silk ribbon. Inside, nestled upon velvet, was a hairpin made of Valyrian steel, adorned with delicate rubies and black pearls. The craftsmanship was exquisite—just the sort of thing you once loved before your world had been torn apart by the civil war, before your mother and uncle had become enemies, and before you had become Aegon’s wife.

Your breath caught in your throat as you gazed at the pin. It was beautiful. He had chosen it because he knew you favored such elegant and understated beauty. He always knew what you would love. And yet...

You swallowed hard, your emotions a tangled web of confusion. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, torn between conflicting loyalties. How could you show affection to the man who had taken the throne from your mother, who had driven a wedge between you and the family you had once known? And yet, this man—this king—treated you with nothing but kindness, never forcing you to share his bed or make vows of love. He had given you freedom within your cage of gold and silks, all while quietly yearning for something more from you.

"It’s beautiful, Aegon," you said softly, feeling the weight of his eyes on you. You could feel his hope like a living thing, wrapped around you, suffocating yet strangely comforting. He wanted so desperately for you to accept him, for you to love him. And though your heart stirred in the quiet moments like this, the fear held you still.

He rose to his feet then, standing tall above you, yet he looked down at you with none of the arrogance others had come to expect from him. Instead, there was a tenderness in his expression that made your chest ache.

"I would give you the world if I could," Aegon said, his voice low, almost vulnerable. "I know… that you don’t feel the same. Not yet. But I hope that, in time, you might."

You turned your head away, unable to bear the weight of his gaze. You were afraid—afraid of what loving him would mean. What would your mother think if she knew? What would the realm say if you, Rhaenyra’s daughter, gave your heart to the man who had usurped her claim?

"I…" Your voice trembled as you tried to find the words. "I don’t know how to be what you want me to be."

Aegon took a step closer, his shadow casting a long, dark silhouette over you. But his voice remained gentle, never demanding. "I don’t want you to be anything you’re not," he murmured. "I only want you to be… you."

The silence stretched between you, heavy with unsaid words, until finally, you found the courage to look up at him. His eyes held nothing but a deep and genuine love for you, a love that terrified you, but also warmed a part of you that had long been cold.

"I’m scared," you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Aegon’s expression softened further, and he knelt before you again, taking your hands in his. His touch was warm, grounding you in the moment.

"You don’t have to be," he said quietly, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand. "I will wait. As long as it takes. I will wait for you."

Tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them away, not wanting him to see your weakness. Yet, Aegon saw everything. He always did. And still, he waited—patient and unwavering.

"I don’t know if I can ever…" you began, your voice faltering, but Aegon silenced you with a small, sad smile.

"I know," he whispered. "And that’s enough for now."

For a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into his warmth, to feel the steady beat of his heart beneath his tunic. He wrapped his arms around you then, holding you close, as if trying to shield you from the turmoil both inside and outside of these chambers.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to imagine—just for a moment—that the world beyond these walls didn’t exist, that your mother wasn’t leading armies against your husband, that you weren’t torn between the two people you had loved most.

In Aegon’s arms, the world was quieter. And maybe, just maybe, you could find some peace here, if only you allowed yourself to let go of the fear.

But even as the thought crossed your mind, the coldness and the fear returned.

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seafarersdream · 1 month

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The Draconic | 18+ (Modern AU Aegon Targaryen x Y/N)

When you’re in London, The Draconic is the place to be. It’s only the hottest club in town, where the drinks are as fiery as the dragons they’re named after, owned by Aegon Targaryen, the self-proclaimed nightlife king. Enter Y/N, Helaena’s best friend, who somehow finds herself tagging along, knowing Helaena’s outings usually end with a story worth telling (or hiding).

TW // Explicit sexual content, profanities, rough sex, mild BDSM elements, substance use (alcohol), smoking.

The Draconic exudes an air of mystery and exclusivity, with its grand entrance flanked by imposing dragon sculptures and the soft glow of green and gold lights illuminating the facade.

Inside, sultry Bossa Nova music drifts through the air, mingling with the soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses. The main lounge is a spectacle of emerald and gold hues, with plush velvet seating and marble floors adorned with dragon motifs. Crystal chandeliers cast a shimmering light over the scene, creating an almost otherworldly ambiance.

At the center of the revelry, basking in the attention, stands Aegon Targaryen. He is every bit the king of this lavish domain, exuding confidence and charm as he mingles with the elite guests. His presence is magnetic, drawing eyes and whispers as he moves through the room, a glass of the finest bourbon in hand.

Y/N stood at the entrance of The Draconic, her eyes wide with awe as she took in the grandeur of the club. “Fuck me, this place is something else, Hel,” she muttered, her voice dripping with astonishment.

Helaena, with a cheeky grin, looped her arm through Y/N’s. “Told you, love. My brother couldn’t do subtle if it slapped him in the face.”

Y/N grinned. “Just promise me we won't end up in the tabloids... again.”

Helaena laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, darling, wherever Aegon goes, the cameras follow. It's like he's got his own bloody paparazzi fan club.”

Y/N snorted. “And it doesn’t help that your brother goes through London socialites faster than toilet paper in a public loo.”

Helaena rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it. Last week, he was dating some heiress named Daphne. This week, it’s a Russian model called Tatiana. Next week, who knows? Perhaps the prime minister’s daughter.”

They made their way inside, the sultry Bossa Nova music wrapping around them like a velvet cloak. The air was perfumed with the scent of expensive cologne and the subtle, smoky undertone of fine cigars. As they passed through the grand foyer, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the dragon sculptures and the exquisite marble flooring.

“No phones allowed, remember,” Helaena reminded her, handing over their devices to the stern-looking security guard.

They entered the main lounge, and Y/N felt as if she'd stepped into another world. Patrons lounged on emerald green velvet seats, their conversations low and conspiratorial. The bar, a stunning creation of green onyx and gold, was the centerpiece of the room, with bartenders expertly mixing drinks for the elite clientele.

“There he is,” Helaena said, nudging Y/N. “Aegon.”

At the heart of the room, Aegon Targaryen commanded the space. His silver hair was slicked back, and his suit was tailored to perfection. He exuded an effortless charm, a faint, knowing smile playing on his lips as he entertained his guests. The golden dragon pin on his lapel caught the light, a symbol of his dominion over this lavish playground.

“Come now, let's go say hi,” Helaena urged, dragging Y/N through the throng of people.

As they approached, Aegon’s eyes flicked towards them, a slow, calculating smile spreading across his face. “Sister! And this must be…?” he inquired, his voice smooth and welcoming, yet laced with a hint of something darker.

Y/N steeled herself, trying to exude confidence. “Y/N,” she introduced herself, noting that up close, Aegon was even more striking—his silver hair and lilac eyes giving him an almost ethereal allure.

“Ah, so this is the Y/N I’ve heard so much about,” Aegon said with a chuckle, his eyes lingering on her.

Helaena shot him a playful but warning glare. “Stop flirting with my best friend, Aegon. Go find another prey,” she quipped, though there was an edge to her tone that suggested she meant it.

Aegon chuckled lowly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I was merely admiring,” he said, his voice dripping with insincere innocence.

Helaena stuck her tongue out at him and grabbed Y/N's arm, dragging her toward the bar. “Come on, let’s get you something to drink.”

She ordered two Dragon Blood cocktails, which arrived looking unnervingly realistic, the deep red liquid swirling ominously in the glass.

Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes boring into the back of her head. She took a sip of her drink, trying to ignore the unease. But she had a pretty good guess as to who was responsible for the intense gaze.

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Y/N and Helaena were well into their cups, each clutching a glass of Dark Sister cocktail. The liquid inside was an enchanting, a sinister shade of dark red almost purple, flecked with silver specks that swirled hypnotically. The taste was a heady mix of pomegranate and absinthe, with a smoky undertone that left a tantalizing burn in its wake.

Surrounded by a veritable graveyard of empty glasses—was this their eighth drink? Eleventh? They’d lost count hours ago—the two friends were deep in a rambling conversation about Helaena’s eccentric family.

“I mean, can you believe it?” Helaena slurred, her cheeks flushed with a rosy glow. “Mum's dating Rhaenyra.”

Y/N nearly choked. “Rhaenyra? As in, your half-sister Rhaenyra? The one who also has kids with your uncle Daemon?”

Helaena giggled, nodding vigorously. “Tell me about it. Every time I turn around, there's another plot twist. Yes, that one! So now, technically, my mum is dating my half-sister. It’s like our family tree is a vine, just tangling and looping all over the place.”

Y/N burst into laughter, almost spilling her drink. “That’s bloody brilliant. Do they make you call her mum or sis?”

Helaena cackled, nearly tipping off her stool. “Oh, gods, it’s even worse. Mum’s taken to calling her Nyra in that sickeningly sweet voice. And don't get me started on the kids—Joffrey, my little nephew, is fucking confused on how to address Alicent, bless him.”

Y/N was in stitches, tears streaming down her face. “I can’t even—imagine the Christmas dinners!”

Helaena grinned, raising her glass. “Here’s to family. Because who needs enemies when you’ve got relatives like mine?”

They clinked their glasses, the liquid inside shimmering under the club's lights. Y/N leaned in conspiratorially. “So, what’s the deal with Aemond? I haven’t seen him in ages.”

Helaena chuckled, shaking her head. “Oh, Aemond. He’s gone completely off the grid. Last I heard, he was up north in Stromness. When I spoke to him, he was convinced he’d found evidence of a kraken. Sent me a photo of some squiggly line in the water and everything.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t he a marine biologist or something?”

Helaena nodded, her grin widening. “Yeah, that’s the one. But he’s got this bizarre obsession with mythical creatures.”

Y/N laughed, this time spilling almost half of her drink. “Does he have a little notebook for his ‘discoveries’ too?”

Helaena snorted. “Oh, he’s got notebooks, alright. Filled with sketches of ‘sightings’ and elaborate plans to capture a sea serpent. We’re talking full-on mad scientist vibes.”

Y/N could hardly contain her amusement. “I can just picture him, all serious, scanning the horizon for a glimpse of a mythical beast. Does he ever actually do any real marine biology work?”

Helaena took another sip of her drink. “He does, but only when he’s not busy chasing legends. Last Christmas, he gave us all ‘Unseelie Repellent Spray.’ It was just water in a fancy bottle, but he was dead serious about it.”

Y/N shook her head in amusement. “Your family is a goldmine of entertainment, Hel. I don’t know how you keep up with it.”

Helaena shrugged, a playful smile on her lips. “It’s either laugh or cry, and I’d much rather laugh.

Suddenly, Helaena felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find Oscar Tully standing there, his red, curly hair as wild as ever. His boyish face was littered with freckles, and he wore his signature lopsided grin.

“Oscar!” Helaena exclaimed, her eyes lighting up.

“Hel!” Oscar replied, matching her enthusiasm.

The breakup had been mutual, and they’d managed to stay on good terms. They launched into small talk, catching up on life since they last saw each other.

“So, how’s the trout farm going?” Helaena asked.

Oscar rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Swimmingly, thanks for asking. Someone’s got to keep the world supplied.”

Y/N watched the exchange with amusement.

Oscar turned to her with a grin. “Mind if I steal Hel away for a bit? I promise to return her in one piece.”

Y/N waved her hand dramatically. “Oh, by all means, take her.”

He offered his arm to Helaena with a playful bow. “Milady?”

Helaena rolled her eyes but took his arm. As Y/N watched them blend into the crowd, she decided she’d had enough alcohol for one night. She could bet everything she had that Helaena would come back as drunk as George IV.

Standing up, she stumbled a bit and decided to find a quieter place to collect her thoughts. She remembered spotting some private booths earlier, each with high-backed, gold-trimmed seats and curtains that could be drawn for privacy. Each booth had a unique dragon nameplate.

She randomly picked one marked “Sunfyre,” thinking it would be empty.

To her shock, inside she found Aegon reclined luxuriously on the plush seat, his suit jacket discarded and shirt unbuttoned. The stunning brunette was on her knees between his legs, her head bobbing rhythmically as she performed the act with evident expertise. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and Aegon’s hand was entangled in her locks, guiding her movements with a mixture of roughness and intensity.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she took in the scene, her breath catching in her throat. The woman’s lips glistened as they slid up and down Aegon’s cock, her hands working in tandem to heighten his pleasure. The air was thick with the sounds of their illicit encounter—the soft, wet noises of the brunette’s efforts and Aegon’s low, guttural groans of satisfaction.

His eyes were closed, his head tilted back against the booth, lost in the sensations. His grip on the brunette’s hair tightened as he pulled her closer, his hips thrusting slightly in response. But then, as if sensing the intrusion, he opened his eyes and locked onto Y/N’s stunned gaze.

For a moment, neither moved. Y/N stood frozen, her heart pounding in her chest, unable to tear her eyes away from the intimate scene. Aegon’s expression shifted from pleasure to surprise.

Before he could say anything, Y/N snapped out of her stupor, spinning on her heel and practically fleeing from the booth. Her mind raced, the vivid image of Aegon seared into her memory. She needed a drink—something strong—to process what she had just witnessed. The night had taken an unexpected turn, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for where it was heading.

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Y/N ordered two of the strongest cocktails served at the bar. The bartender, with a knowing smile, brought her a pair of Death by Flames. She downed the first in one go, feeling the intense heat and smoky flavors hit her like a fiery wave, but realized nothing could erase the image of Aegon from her mind.

“Motherfucker,” she muttered, cursing at herself. “Why do I always have the shittiest luck in the entire country?”

Cursing under her breath, she berated herself and her rotten luck. With frustration bubbling up, she decided to make a beeline for the loo, hoping that a splash of cold water might help clear her head.

Y/N stumbled into the bathroom, taking in the dragon-shaped faucets and sinks made of green marble. Gold accents and dragon motifs were everywhere, maintaining the club’s theme. Soft, ambient lighting in shades of green and gold created a warm, inviting atmosphere, with hidden LED strips along the walls and floor adding subtle highlights that enhanced the overall ambiance without overpowering the space.

She splashed her face repeatedly with water, each splash accompanied by a string of colorful profanities. “Bloody hell, piss off, for fuck's sake!”

She glanced at her reflection, seeing the crazed look and blown pupils. “Great, now I look like I’m the one who just gave someone else a fucking blowjob,” she groaned.

She fumbled with her bag, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, hoping to calm her frayed nerves. As she lit up and took a deep drag, she caught her reflection again and decided it was time for a monologue, just to vent her frustration.

“Alright, Y/N, let’s have a little chat. What the actual fuck were you thinking? Did you honestly believe you’d find a quiet spot in a place called The Draconic? Clearly, you’ve lost the plot.”

She took another drag, pacing back and forth. “Oh, sure, let’s follow Helaena. What could possibly go wrong? Well, let me tell you, everything. First, you walk in on Aegon, the living embodiment of a Greek god getting a blow job from a woman who probably just stepped out of a lingerie commercial. And you? You're standing here, looking like you've just crawled out of a bloody coal mine. Fabulous.”

She paused, flicking ash into the sink. “Why, oh why, did I think coming to this club was a good idea? I’ve got Helaena’s ex chatting her up, and me, well, I’m left with the delightful mental image of Aegon’s magnificent cock. Just brilliant. What’s next? Is the bloody Kraken going to pop out of the toilet?”

Taking one last drag of her cigarette, she flicked it into the dragon-shaped ashtray with a flourish. “Right, Y/N. Time to pull yourself together, go back out there, and pretend you didn’t just have the most insane moment of your life. Maybe I’ll even find Helaena and we can laugh about this... in about ten years.”

With that, she took a deep breath, splashed her face one last time for good measure, and steeled herself.

It seemed the gods were laughing at her existence because Aegon is leaning casually against the wall outside, a cigarette dangling from his lips and that infuriating smirk plastered on his face.

“Why’d you leave, love? I was about to ask you to join,” he said cheekily.

“Fuck off, Aegon,” she muttered quietly, trying to sidestep him and avoid further embarrassment.

But Aegon moved to block her only path back to the main area. He stood there effectively cornering her.

“Come on, don't be like that,” Aegon teased, leaning closer. “It was just a bit of fun.”

Y/N glared at him, her nerves fraying even more. “Your idea of fun is a bloody nightmare for everyone else.”

Aegon chuckled, clearly enjoying her discomfort. “Oh, you wound me, beautiful. Can’t a man enjoy a bit of company in peace?”

Y/N sighed, looking at him with exasperation. “Look, I didn’t mean to walk in on you. It was pure accident.”

Aegon shrugged it off nonchalantly. “No need for apologies. But did you at least enjoy the show?”

Y/N’s cheeks reddened, her breaths coming raggedly. “I’ve seen better,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

Aegon looked at her, unimpressed, clearly not believing her. He took the cigarette from his lips and held it to her mouth so she could take a drag. She hesitated but then took a deep pull, the smoke burning her throat, but the distraction was welcome.

“So, where’s Helaena?” he asked, taking the cigarette back.

“She was whisked away by Oscar and hasn’t been seen since,” Y/N explained, still trying to compose herself.

Aegon raised an eyebrow. “Oscar, huh? Well, that explains a lot. Guess it’s just you and me then.”

Y/N sighed, feeling the massive amount of alcohol she had consumed catching up to her. Her head was starting to pound. “Can I have some water?” she asked, her voice a bit shaky.

Aegon’s smirk softened slightly, and he nodded. “Of course, love.” He placed his hand on her lower back, guiding her gently toward his private office.

The office was a stark contrast to the chaos outside, a sanctuary of dark leather and polished wood. Aegon motioned for her to sit on a leather sofa as he poured a glass of water from a crystal decanter.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her the glass. “Drink up.”

Y/N took the glass gratefully, drinking deeply, the cool water soothing her parched throat and clearing her head slightly. She glanced around the office, noting the various dragon-themed decorations.

“Thanks,” she said, setting the empty glass down on a nearby table.

Aegon leaned against his desk, watching her with amusement and. “Feeling better?”

“A bit,” she admitted, rubbing her temples. “This night has been... a lot.”

Aegon chuckled. “Welcome to The Draconic. It’s never boring, that’s for sure.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, despite everything. “You can say that again.”

Aegon’s grin widened. “Believe it or not, this is one of the tamer nights.”

Trying to be smooth, Y/N asked, “So, where’s your… friend or companion or whatever?”

Aegon shrugged nonchalantly. “Don’t know, don’t care,” he said, his grin turning slightly wicked.

Y/N bit her lip, trying hard to hide the growing wetness between her thighs as she watched him. There was something undeniably magnetic about Aegon, and despite her better judgment, she couldn’t help but feel drawn to him.

“Must be nice, having that kind of freedom,” she said, her voice a bit huskier than intended.

Aegon’s eyes darkened slightly, his gaze locking onto hers. “It has its perks,” he replied, his voice low.

Y/N felt her pulse quicken, the tension between them thickening. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “Well, thanks for the water. I should probably get back to Helaena.”

Aegon pushed himself off the desk and stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “Sure you don’t want to stick around a bit longer? I can be very entertaining.” he said, his voice dripping with suggestion. “Besides, Helaena is probably also occupied.”

He began to circle around her like a serpent, his eyes never leaving hers. Y/N shivered, feeling the intensity of his gaze and the heat of his proximity. The room seemed to close in around them.

Y/N breathed out quietly, her voice shaking. “I’m Helaena’s friend,” she said, more to convince herself than anyone else. “I shouldn’t be doing anything with her brother.”

Aegon put a hand under her chin, his finger tracing her lips as he whispered, “She doesn’t have to know.”

Y/N moved forward, their lips now almost touching. She could feel his breath, warm and intoxicating, mingling with hers. Her fingers found their way to the nape of his neck, playing with the ends of his hair, feeling the softness against her skin.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” she murmured, her voice barely audible, the words more for her own reassurance.

“As you say, love,” Aegon whispered back, his voice a seductive purr.

In an instant, they clashed into each other, their lips meeting in a rough, demanding kiss that felt like they were devouring each other. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them suspended in a moment of dangerous excitement. Their hands moved frantically, tugging at each other’s clothes with a desperate urgency. Y/N felt Aegon’s hands at her back, unzipping her dress, while she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, their mouths never breaking contact.

“Oh, God, Aegon,” she gasped between kisses, feeling his hands on her skin, the heat of his touch igniting something deep within her.

“Y/N,” he growled, his voice thick with desire.

The kiss deepened, becoming almost primal, as if they were trying to consume each other completely. Y/N’s dress fell to the floor, and she felt the cool air against her skin, contrasting sharply with the heat radiating between them. Aegon’s shirt joined her dress on the ground, followed by his belt and trousers. Her hands roamed over his bare chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath, as his fingers traced the curves of her body.

“Fuck,” Aegon muttered, his lips trailing down her neck, “you’re fit.”

Y/N gasped as his mouth moved lower, his hands gripping her hips with a possessive hunger. He kissed a path down her body, his breath hot against her skin. She shivered, feeling the intense pull of desire.

“Stop,” she managed to say, though her protest was weak. “You’re leaving marks.”

“Good,” Aegon murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. “I want everyone to know you’re mine tonight.”

Y/N shuddered as his mouth found her clit, his tongue teasing and sucking with expert precision. Her hands tangled in his hair, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. Aegon was relentless, his hunger evident in every movement.

“You arrogant bastard,” she gasped, her body betraying her as pleasure surged through her.

Aegon chuckled, the sound vibrating against her most sensitive spot. “So wet, darling, all for me, huh?” he taunted, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

His fingers joined the assault, thrusting inside her with a rhythm that had her seeing stars. Aegon was a god at this, his fingers curling just right while his tongue continued its relentless teasing. Y/N’s mewls turned into desperate cries, her body trembling under his assault.

“Mmm, you like that, don’t you?” he murmured against her clit, his tone a mix of degradation and praise. “Such a good girl, taking everything I give you.”

Her body arched, her hips moving instinctively to meet his fingers, the intensity of his touch driving her wild. “Aegon, please,” she whimpered, her voice barely a whisper.

“Begging already?” he smirked, increasing the pressure of his fingers. “Look at you, falling apart just for me.”

Y/N’s vision blurred, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. She was so close, the sensations overwhelming her. His mouth never let up, his tongue a constant source of exquisite torture.

“Come on, love,” he urged, his voice husky with desire. “Let go for me.”

With a final, intense suck and a twist of his fingers, Y/N’s world shattered. Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing as she squirted hard, her juices soaking Aegon’s hand and mouth.

“Shit, love,” Aegon groaned, his eyes dark with lust as he watched her. “That’s fucking hot.”

He didn’t stop, drawing out her orgasm with gentle licks and caresses. Y/N’s body trembled, her mind barely able to process the overwhelming pleasure.

As the waves of her climax slowly subsided, she collapsed back, breathless and spent. Aegon moved up, his lips brushing against hers in a possessive kiss.

“I could watch you come like that all night.”

Y/N could only nod weakly, her body still trembling, as she tried to catch her breath.

Aegon began pumping his cock, his hand moving in smooth, practiced strokes. Pre-cum was already leaking from the tip, his veins throbbing with need. He sat down and guided her to straddle him. As she settled on top of him, Y/N noticed a strategically placed mirror, reflecting their entwined bodies clearly.

Aegon’s eyes darkened with a primal hunger. “Ride me, love,” he commanded, his voice low and rough.

Y/N positioned herself over him, her hands on his shoulders for balance, and slowly lowered herself onto his throbbing cock. The sensation was intense, both of them groaning as he filled her completely. She began to move, bouncing expertly, the squelching sounds echoing in the room.

“Fuck, you ride like a slut,” Aegon taunted, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks. “So wet and desperate for me.”

Her eyes caught the mirror again, watching as she rode him with wild abandon. The sight was incredibly arousing. Aegon’s fingers wrapped around her throat, applying just enough pressure to make her gasp.

“You like that, don’t you?” he taunted, his grip tightening slightly. “You like being fucked like this.”

Y/N’s moans were half-choked, her eyes rolling back as the pressure on her throat intensified the pleasure. “Yes,” she gasped out, her voice strained. “I love it.”

Aegon’s eyes were locked on where their bodies met, watching as her cream formed a white ring at the base of his cock. “Look at that,” he said as he tuts at her. “You’re making such a mess, love.”

Y/N’s body responded to his words, her movements becoming more frantic. She was riding him hard, her nails digging into his backs, leaving marks of her own.

Aegon groaned, his grip tightening as he felt her walls clench around him. “That’s it, love,” he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure. “Just like that.”

“Aegon, I’m so close,” she moaned, her body trembling with the impending climax.

“Come for me, Y/N,” he commanded, his voice full of raw desire. “I want to feel you.”

With a final, desperate bounce, Y/N’s body convulsed, her orgasm ripping through her with such force that she squirted again, much to Aegon’s delight. He watched with a mixture of pride and lust as she trembled above him. His own release followed closely, exploding inside her and painting her insides with his cum.

The room reeked of sex, the intense scent of their passion filling the air. Aegon held her close, their bodies still entwined, his hands moving gently over her back as he rubbed her hair, soothing the aftermath. They stayed like that for a moment, their breaths mingling, gradually slowing down.

Y/N’s pussy was overstimulated, every slight movement sending tremors through her body. She trembled uncontrollably, her muscles twitching with the aftershocks of their intense lovemaking.

Aegon held her close, his voice a soothing whisper in her ear. “You did so well for me, darling,” he murmured, his tone filled with both admiration and tenderness.

He shifted slightly, still inside her, causing her to gasp as another wave of sensation coursed through her. “Fuck, love,” he continued, his breath hot against her ear. “How am I supposed to not crave your cunt after this?”

Y/N could only manage a weak smile, her body still recovering from the overwhelming pleasure. She leaned into his touch, finding comfort in his arms.

Aegon’s fingers continued to trace soothing patterns on her skin, his breath warm against her ear. “You’re amazing,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “Absolutely fucking amazing.”

They shared a tender kiss, a huge contrast to what had just transpired. Aegon’s lips were soft and gentle, offering a moment of intimacy that grounded them both.

“I’ll be right back,” he whispered, standing up carefully. He retrieved a warm, clean towel and returned to her side, gently cleaning the insides of her thighs. Y/N watched him fondly, her heart warming at the unexpected tenderness.

“What a gentleman,” she teased, her voice light with amusement.

Aegon winked at her. “Don’t tell anyone.”

After cleaning her up, he poured her a glass of cold water. “Drink up,” he said, handing it to her. “You need to stay hydrated.”

Y/N took the glass, sipping gratefully, still watching him with a smile. He then grabbed a spare shirt from a nearby drawer and slipped it over her head, his fingers lingering as he admired how it looked on her. The shirt was oversized, hanging loosely on her frame, but Aegon seemed to like it that way.

“Acting like a doting boyfriend now, are we?” Y/N teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

Aegon smirked, adjusting the shirt on her shoulders. “I knew this shirt would look fantastic on you, and I was right.”

“Oh? Well, in that case, I might as well keep it then.”

Aegon chuckled. “You’ll have to earn it, love.”

She grinned, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips. “Consider it a down payment.”

Aegon laughed, pulling her closer. “You drive a hard bargain.”

Y/N laughed along with him, feeling a warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the afterglow of their encounter. “I’ll take my chances.”

Aegon grinned, leaning in to kiss her again. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

Y/N kissed him deeply, their lips melding with a renewed passion. His hands found their way to her arse, gripping it firmly as he pulled her closer.

But then the door flew open, and Helaena stood in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock. “Oh great, I’m forever traumatized,” she exclaimed, a scandalized gasp escaping her lips.

The evidence of their encounter was plain as day. The whole room reeked of sex, and there were suspicious liquid remains on the floor.

“Really? In my brother’s office?” Helaena berated, her hands on her hips.

Y/N’s face turned crimson, and she tried to hide her face in Aegon’s shoulder, mortified. Aegon, however, was laughing shamelessly.

“Oh, come on, Hel,” Aegon said. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

Helaena’s eyes narrowed as she glared at both of them. “Dramatic? The room smells like a brothel, and I just walked in on my brother groping my best friend!”

“You do have impeccable timing,” Aegon managed to say between laughs.

Y/N peeked out from behind Aegon, still embarrassed. “I… I can explain?”

Helaena rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, please don’t. I think the evidence speaks for itself.”

Aegon grinned, pulling Y/N closer. “Come on, Hel. You know you love us.”

Helaena shook her head, unable to suppress a smile despite her mock indignation. “You two are disgusting. Just… clean up after yourselves, will you?”

Y/N nodded vigorously, still trying to hide her face. “We will, promise.”

As Helaena left, muttering about needing eye bleach, Aegon and Y/N burst into laughter. Y/N shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. “I guess I’m keeping this shirt after all.”

“Damn right you are,” Aegon said with a smile. He paused, looking at her thoughtfully. “So, when are you free?”

Y/N blinked, confused. “Free for what?”

Aegon rolled his eyes playfully. “I’m taking you out on a date, woman.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “A date? After all this?”

Aegon grinned, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Course, You’ve already seen the worst of me. Now please let me try to impress you properly.”

Y/N pretended to ponder this, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, let me think about it. I mean, you did just make a mess of the place, and you have a habit of getting caught in compromising positions...”

Aegon chuckled, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. “Oh, come on. You know you want to. Besides, how many people can say they had their first date after walking in on said person mid-blowjob?”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Alright, you’ve got a point there.”

She gave him a mock-serious look. “Okay, 5 PM next Friday, Targaryen. Don’t be late.”

Aegon pumps his fist in celebration. “I’ll be there on the dot, love. You just wait.”

“You know,” she said, looking up at him, “this has to be the strangest way I’ve ever agreed to a date.”

Aegon grinned. “Well, I’m nothing if not memorable.”

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her. “That you are.”

She took a deep breath and reluctantly stepped back from him. “I should go find Helaena and do some damage control before she decides to disown both of us.”

Aegon laughed, nodding. “Good idea. She’ll get over it… eventually.”

“Don’t be late,” she said with a playful smirk.

Aegon raised his hands in mock surrender. “I wouldn’t dare.”

With one last smile, Y/N turned and headed for the door.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon the second #modern aegon #hotd aegon #aegon ii fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon x reader #tom glynn carney #tom glynn-carney #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd fandom

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dunebrat · 6 months

Text

FORBIDDEN HEIR ˚ ♡ ˚

Feyd Rautha x reader

Summary : you find yourself trapped in a loveless marriage to Glossu Beast Rabban, a man whose brutality knows no bounds. Unable to bear him an heir, you turn to Feyd Rautha, in a desperate bid to secure your position within the ruthless Harkonnen house

ㅤ────────────────────────

As a year passed since your marriage to Glossu Beast Rabban, whispers began to swirl among the women of the court. Their curious glances and subtle inquiries cut deeper than any blade, their judgment heavy in the air like a suffocating fog. You, younger than your husband and eager to prove your worth, felt the weight of their scrutiny like a leaden burden upon your shoulders. Each passing day brought with it a new wave of gossip, their tongues wagging with speculation and thinly veiled accusations.

"Why hasn't she borne him an heir yet?"

"Is she barren, or just unwilling to fulfill her duty?"

"She's too young to understand the importance of her role."

Their words stung like venom, poisoning the fragile bond between you and Glossu. As the months pass by, your husband becomes increasingly frustrated by your inability to conceive. He watches as other noble families celebrate the arrival of heirs, while the halls of the Harkonnen palace remain devoid of the pitter-patter of tiny feet. "Why have you not given me an heir yet?" he demands, his voice laced with anger and disappointment.

You feel a pang of guilt and shame as his accusatory gaze falls upon you. You know the truth that it's not for lack of trying, but rather a cruel twist of fate that has left you barren. You try to explain, to reassure him that you are doing everything in your power to fulfill your duty, but Glossu's fury knows no bounds. "You are worthless to me if you cannot bear me a child!" he bellows, his words echoing through the palace corridors.

You shrink back, feeling the weight of his words like a physical blow. You have devoted yourself to him, to the Harkonnen name, and yet it seems that will never be enough. Women were

Later that night with trembling hands and a heart heavy with guilt, you approached Feyd-Rautha. His aura, both dark and dangerous, sent shivers down your spine. But this was your last chance for a child, a flicker of hope in a sea of despair. "Please," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper, "it's not Glossu's fault. Your brother's health that stands in our way. I beg of you, Feyd, help me conceive an heir or I will be sent away if I cannot do this"

His gaze bore into yours, a calculating glint betraying the mask of indifference he wore. Silence hung in the air. Then, with a tilt of his head and a ghost of a smile, Feyd-Rautha spoke, his voice like velvet wrapped around steel. "I'll consider your proposal, but remember, my dear sister-in-law, every deal with the devil comes with its price."

"I understand. Whatever the cost, I am willing to pay it." You responded

He smirks as he turns to leave, you're left alone with your thoughts

Later that night you found yourself underneath him, his cock pounding into you as he took what was rightfully yours. You could feel the power and dominance of him inside you, claiming your body for himself.

He wanted to breed you, to make you his. And as he continued to fuck you with a primal intensity, it was clear that this wasn't just about sex for him-it was an act of possession and control. He wanted to own you, and he was going to take what he thought belonged to him. He went for hours claiming you as your husband was away on another planet handling business. Taking you in every position and using your body for his own pleasure. He doesn't care about your needs or desires-he just wants to use you as a vessel for his lustful urges.

He cums inside you

you feel his hot seed fill your womb. He collapses on top of you, breathing heavily as he tries to catch his breath. You lay there beneath him, feeling the weight of his body pressing down upon yours. You can feel his heart beating against your chest, and you know that he is still inside of you. He slowly pulls out of you with a soft moan as the last drops of cum drip from him onto you.

He rolls off of you and lays next to you, his breathing still heavy. You lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath as well. You can feel his cum dripping out of you, and it's a strange feeling. It feels like he has claimed your body as his own-like this is what was always meant to be between the two of you. You reach down and touch your pussy, feeling the wetness of his cum on you. It's a strange sensation-one that is both comforting and exciting at the same time.

The affair between you and Feyd unfolded as the nights passed, your meetings became bolder. As the weeks passed, a wave of nausea washed over you, leaving you weak and trembling in its wake.

Desperate for relief, you sought solace in the chambers of the healers, their gentle ministrations offering fleeting respite from the relentless onslaught of sickness. Yet, despite their best efforts, the cause of your affliction remained a mystery, shrouded in uncertainty and fear. Then, one fateful day, Glossu's booming voice echoed through the halls of the stronghold, his announcement sending shockwaves through the court like a bolt of lightning on a clear day.

"Gather round, my loyal subjects," he declared, his voice ringing with pride and triumph. "For it brings me great joy to announce that my beloved wife is with child."

A chorus of cheers erupted from the assembled crowd, their cries mingling with the pounding of your heart as you stood frozen in disbelief.

A knowing smirk tugged at the corners of Feyd's lips as you make eye contact with the true father of your child

Part 2 coming soon 𓏲◜ 🎀

#feyd oneshot #feyd rautha #feyd smut #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha smut #feyd imagine #feyd rautha x reader #fey

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novaursa · 20 days

Note

good evening I saw that you were still taking requests

I had an idea where fem!targaryen is Aegon's twin sister, she was sent at the same time as Daeron to Oldtown She was always extremely close to her twin brother but his character didn't match the court.

She looks a lot like Daemon, a bit of a rebellious princess and her grandfather sent her to their house to help her recover. but arriving in Oldtown she created a more than close bond with her uncle Sir Gwayne.

If we could have the complexity of their relationship, like the first time their outlook on each other changed, first kiss but they are still consumed by the fact that it's not right

They would have a very close relationship, Gwayne is someone who is very teasing and even a little arrogant. They would probably marry under the old and new gods like Targaryen and for many years no one else knows except Aegon

then when Aegon was made king, Alicent contacted her brother again but at the same time would hear about several children with white hair and purple eyes who would be in Oldtown, she would immediately think of bastards but she would never have thought of her brother and her daughter

Otto and Alicent would be angry and even disgusted by Gwayne's behavior but when they return to King's Landing they are welcomed wonderfully by Aegon who is more than happy to see his nephews and nieces again 🫶🏼👀

A Flame in Exile

- Summary: Your mother and grandsire have sent you away to Oldtown. You were too unruly like your uncle Daemon, they said. But Gwayne never shied away from fire.

- Paring: niece!reader/Gwayne Hightower

- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top. Requests are closed!

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 6 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @deniixlovezelda @duck-duck-goose2 @aadu2173 @holdingforgeneralhugs

The wind bites at your face as the ship draws closer to the towering spire of the Hightower. You shiver slightly, though not from the cold. Oldtown is a world away from the Red Keep, and though you’ve heard much of its grandeur and history, the thought of calling this place home sits uneasily within you. Yet, the unease is nothing compared to the aching emptiness left by your separation from Aegon.

Your twin. Your other half. His tear-streaked face is burned into your mind, his voice—trembling and desperate—echoes in your ears. "Please, don’t leave me," he had cried, clinging to you with a desperation that had nearly broken your resolve. His arms wrapped around you so tightly that it felt like he was trying to fuse your very souls together, as if by sheer force of will he could keep you by his side.

But your mother had intervened. Alicent’s voice had been cold and firm, like steel wrapped in velvet, her eyes flashing with something you couldn't quite place as she pried Aegon’s arms from around your neck. "Do not make a scene, Aegon," she had hissed, her grip on him as unyielding as her will. And then, with one last pained look, you had been pulled away, ushered towards the ship that would take you to Oldtown, to the Hightower. To your new life.

Even now, as you stand on the deck, the memory haunts you. Aegon, your other half, left behind in the Red Keep, with no one who truly understands him. The thought that you are the only one who ever did brings you little comfort, for what use is understanding when you are not there to provide it?

You glance down at Daeron, your little brother, standing beside you. His wide eyes are filled with awe, and a hint of fear as he stares at the looming city before him. He is too young to understand the full weight of what has been done, but you see the uncertainty in the way he clutches at your hand. You squeeze his hand in return, offering what little comfort you can, though the gesture feels hollow.

The ship finally docks, and the crew is quick to lower the gangplank. As you descend, you are met by a small party of retainers, dressed in the colors of House Hightower. At their head stands Gwayne Hightower, your uncle, and eldest son of Otto Hightower, your grandsire. His presence is commanding, yet there is a warmth in his gaze that eases some of the tension coiled within you.

“Welcome to Oldtown,” Gwayne greets, his voice smooth and gentle, with a hint of the formality you’ve come to expect from a Hightower. He bows his head to you first, acknowledging your status, before turning to Daeron with a softer expression. “Prince Daeron, it is an honor to have you here.”

Daeron blinks up at Gwayne, unsure of what to say, but Gwayne’s easy smile seems to relax him. “Thank you, Ser Gwayne,” Daeron finally replies, his voice small but polite.

“And you, Princess Y/N,” Gwayne turns his full attention to you, his grey eyes meeting yours with a curiosity that is hard to miss. “It has been many years since we last met, but I can see the blood of the dragon runs strong in you. You have grown into a fine lady.”

You offer him a nod, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. His words are kind, but you see the caution in his gaze. You are a stranger to him, a puzzle to be unraveled. And in this moment, you feel more alone than ever. Yet, there is something in Gwayne's demeanor that draws you in—an undercurrent of understanding, as if he too knows what it is to be caught between duty and desire.

“We have prepared quarters for you both within the Hightower,” Gwayne continues, gesturing to the towering structure behind him. “Your retainers will find all the accommodations they require as well. If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to ask.”

You incline your head in thanks, finally finding your voice. “Thank you, Ser Gwayne. Your hospitality is appreciated.”

As you follow Gwayne through the streets of Oldtown, Daeron trailing close behind, you cannot help but marvel at the city around you. It is a place of ancient history, where every stone seems to hum with the weight of the ages. The Citadel looms in the distance, a symbol of knowledge and power, while the Starry Sept stands as a beacon of faith. Yet, despite the grandeur, you find no comfort here. This is not your home. And though Gwayne’s presence is steady and kind, you know it will be some time before you can truly trust him, or anyone else here.

When you finally reach the Hightower, you are led through its winding corridors to your chambers. They are lavishly appointed, far more luxurious than anything you expected, but the opulence feels cold, impersonal. You cannot help but think of the warmth of the Red Keep, of the fire-lit chambers where you and Aegon would hide away from the world, finding solace in each other’s company.

Once you and Daeron are settled, Gwayne excuses himself, leaving you alone with your brother. Daeron, still so young, looks to you for guidance, for reassurance. And though you ache to give it to him, you feel the weight of your own uncertainty pressing down on you.

“Do you think we’ll be happy here?” Daeron asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You look down at him, his innocent face so full of hope, and force a smile. “We’ll make the best of it,” you reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil within. “We have each other, and that is what matters.”

He nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer, and you pull him into a hug. But as you hold him close, you cannot shake the feeling that something has been irreparably broken. You are no longer whole, no longer tethered to the one person who understood you completely. And as you close your eyes, you wonder if you will ever feel at home again.

As the night falls and the Hightower grows quiet, you sit by the window, staring out at the city below. Somewhere out there, in the vastness of this world, is Aegon, your twin, your other half. You hope he is safe, hope he knows that you did not want to leave him. But hope feels fragile in the face of the reality you now face.

In the distance, the Starry Sept’s bells toll, their mournful sound carrying on the wind. You wonder if Aegon can hear them too, wherever he is. You wonder if he is thinking of you, as you are thinking of him.

And as you drift into an uneasy sleep, you cling to the memory of his tears, of his desperate pleas. For they are all you have left of him now, and you fear that, without them, you may forget what it feels like to be whole.

The days in Oldtown have blurred into a monotonous routine, a far cry from the vibrant, if chaotic, life you once knew in the Red Keep. The city, with all its ancient grandeur, has become a gilded cage, and you find yourself suffocated by the very walls meant to protect you. Daeron, though still young, has adapted better than you expected, throwing himself into his lessons with the maesters. You, however, remain adrift, seeking solace in the only companionship that has begun to mean anything in this new life—Gwayne Hightower.

From the moment you arrived, Gwayne has been a constant presence, hovering at the edges of your life in Oldtown. At first, you found his attentions burdensome, a reminder of your exile from King's Landing. But over time, the sharp edges of your resentment dulled, replaced by a begrudging acceptance of his company. Now, months after your arrival, Gwayne’s presence has become something you not only expect but anticipate. His arrogance, his teasing remarks—they no longer irritate you as they once did. Instead, they have become a strange kind of comfort, a link to a life that feels farther away with each passing day.

On this particular afternoon, you find yourself in one of the Hightower’s many courtyards, the sun hanging low in the sky. The air is cool, the first signs of autumn creeping in. You sit on a stone bench, watching as the shadows stretch long and thin across the cobblestones. Gwayne is beside you, his usual smirk in place, though his eyes are softer than usual.

“You know,” he begins, his voice light with mockery, “I never thought Oldtown would see the day a dragon would be caged within its walls.”

You glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “Caged? You speak as if I’m some kind of beast, Gwayne.”

“Aren’t you?” he retorts, though there’s no malice in his tone. “You have the blood of the dragon in you, after all. And from what I hear, more of Daemon’s fire than Viserys’s... whatever it is he has.” He leans closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “That’s why they sent you here, isn’t it? To keep you away from your dear twin. To keep you from burning down the world.”

You bristle at his words, even as a part of you knows there is truth in them. “And what would you know of such things?” you snap back, though there’s little heat behind it. “You Hightowers are always so certain of yourselves, always so sure of your place in the world.”

Gwayne laughs, a low, rich sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “We are sure of our place because we make it so. That is what my father taught me. But you… you are different, aren’t you? You don’t fit neatly into anyone’s plans, not even your own.”

His words sting because they cut too close to the bone. You are different, an anomaly in your own family. Not quite the dutiful daughter Alicent hoped for, nor the rebellious one like Daemon that Viserys once admired, you have always straddled a line that leaves you belonging nowhere. And here, in Oldtown, that difference is magnified, a glaring fault line that Gwayne seems all too eager to point out.

But today, something is different. The way Gwayne looks at you, the way his voice lingers on your name—it’s all sharper, more intense. He’s leaning in closer, the space between you shrinking with each passing moment, until you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. The tension between you crackles like lightning before a storm, dangerous and thrilling.

“Why do you do that?” you ask suddenly, your voice softer than you intended. “Why do you always bring up my uncle? Why do you always remind me of why I’m here?”

Gwayne’s smirk falters, just for a moment, before he straightens up, the teasing mask slipping back into place. “Because it’s the truth, and I’ve found that you prefer truth over the pretty lies most would tell you.”

You can’t argue with that, but it doesn’t ease the knot in your chest. “It’s a bitter truth,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

“Perhaps,” he agrees, his tone shifting, becoming more serious. “But it’s the truth nonetheless. You are fire, my lady. Wild and untamed, just like Daemon. And it scares them—all of them. My father, your mother, the king… they don’t know what to do with you.”

“And you?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do I scare you, Gwayne?”

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and for the first time, there’s no arrogance in his gaze, no teasing light in his eyes. “Yes,” he says quietly. “But I find that I’m drawn to the flame, even knowing I might get burned.”

The admission hangs between you, heavy and charged. The world seems to narrow down to this moment, to the space between you and Gwayne, a space that feels both too vast and too close. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the way he fights against something he doesn’t fully understand. But then, so do you.

“I should go,” you say, the words an echo of what you think you should say, but not what you want.

Gwayne’s hand reaches out before you can move, his fingers curling around your wrist with a gentle pressure. It’s a small touch, but it ignites something within you, a spark that quickly flares into a dangerous blaze. His touch feels like the first real thing you’ve felt since you left King’s Landing, since you left Aegon behind.

“Stay,” he says, his voice a soft command, a plea wrapped in steel. “Just for a little while longer.”

You know you shouldn’t. You know this is wrong, forbidden, and dangerous. The Seven would condemn it, your family would disown you, and yet... there’s a part of you that doesn’t care. A part of you that craves this, that wants to feel alive again, even if it means stepping into the flames.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you look into Gwayne’s eyes, seeing the same conflict mirrored in his gaze. And then, slowly, you nod.

He pulls you closer, his hand moving from your wrist to your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that makes your breath hitch. For a moment, neither of you moves, the world suspended in a fragile balance. And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, Gwayne leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative kiss.

The contact is electric, sending shockwaves through your body, waking something within you that has been dormant for too long. You respond without thinking, without caring, your hands moving to his shoulders as you press closer to him. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more desperate, as if you are both trying to fill the void that has been gnawing at you for months.

When you finally pull back, breathless and trembling, Gwayne’s eyes are dark with something you’ve never seen before. “This… this is madness,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion.

“Madness,” you echo, your own voice shaking. “But it’s the only thing that feels real.”

For a moment, you both just sit there, the weight of what you’ve done pressing down on you. You should feel guilt, shame, regret—but all you feel is a strange kind of relief, as if a burden you didn’t know you were carrying has been lifted.

Gwayne’s hand still rests on your cheek, and he brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch lingering. “We can’t do this,” he says, but there’s no conviction in his words, no real intent to stop.

“I know,” you reply, though you don’t mean it. You both know the truth—you will do this again, and again, until you’ve burned through all the self-control you have left. It’s inevitable, like the pull of the moon on the tide.

But for now, you just sit there, in the fading light of the courtyard, your hands still intertwined, the air between you charged with a promise of something more. Something dangerous, something forbidden, but something that, for the first time in months, makes you feel alive.

It's a night that feels suspended in time, where the old gods and new alike seem to hold their breath, watching, waiting.

You stand beside Gwayne, your heart pounding in your chest, each beat a thunderous drum in the stillness of the room. The decision to marry in secret, away from the eyes of the court and the judgment of the realm, was one made in the quiet moments between stolen kisses and whispered confessions. It was born out of a love that neither of you could deny, a love that defied the rules of blood and duty, a love that could only be sealed in the shadows.

The septon who stands before you is not one from the grand Starry Sept of Oldtown. He is an ostracized man, a septon fallen from grace, his robes frayed and worn, his face lined with the scars of a hard life. But his eyes are sharp, and there is a solemnity in his bearing that speaks of a deep connection to the gods, both old and new. It is this man that Gwayne sought out, a man who would not only marry you in secret but who would bless this union under the eyes of both the Seven and the Valyrian gods—an acknowledgment of the blood that flows in your veins, the fire that binds you to your ancestors.

The chamber is small, tucked away in the bowels of the Hightower, a place known only to a few trusted souls. The only witnesses to this union are the flickering candles and the ancient stone walls that have stood through centuries of history. And here, in this hidden place, you are about to make a vow that will bind you to Gwayne for eternity.

Gwayne turns to you, his eyes soft and filled with a tenderness that makes your breath catch. The man who once teased you with sharp words and arrogant smirks now looks at you with a love so profound it feels like it could consume you both. He reaches out, taking your hands in his, his grip firm and warm. The callouses on his palms are a testament to his life as a warrior, but the way he holds you is gentle, reverent.

"My love," Gwayne begins, his voice steady but thick with emotion, "before the eyes of the Seven, and in the presence of the Valyrian gods, I take you as my wife. You are my fire, my light, my salvation. In you, I have found not just love, but a purpose, a reason to be. I vow to protect you, to cherish you, to stand by your side, no matter what trials we may face. From this day until my last, you are mine, and I am yours."

His words send a shiver through you, the weight of his vow settling deep in your heart. You can feel the truth of them, the way they resonate with the very core of who you are. When you speak, your voice is soft but unwavering, carrying with it the depth of your own love and conviction.

"Gwayne," you begin, your eyes locking with his, "you are my heart, my strength, my true companion. In a world that seeks to tear us apart, you are the one who has always stood by me, who has seen me for who I truly am, and loved me all the same. I vow to stand with you, to fight for us, to love you with all that I am. We may walk a dangerous path, but I choose it willingly, because I choose you. Now and always, I am yours, and you are mine."

The septon steps forward, his voice low and gravelly as he intones the ancient rites. "Before the eyes of the gods, both new and old, I bless this union. By the light of the Seven and the fire of Old Valyria, may your love be eternal, may your bond be unbreakable. What is done here in secret, let it be known in the hearts of those who bear witness."

He raises a small vial, pouring the contents—a mixture of oil and salt—into a shallow basin. The scent of it fills the room, sharp and cleansing. He dips his fingers into the mixture and anoints your foreheads, first Gwayne’s and then yours, marking you with the symbols of both faiths. The coolness of the oil against your skin is grounding, a reminder of the gravity of this moment.

"By the authority granted to me by the gods," the septon continues, his voice carrying the weight of the ages, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You are bound by blood, by love, and by the will of the gods. Go forth as one, in strength and in unity."

Gwayne pulls you to him then, his hands cradling your face as he kisses you deeply, passionately, in a way that speaks of all the love he has kept hidden from the world. The kiss is a sealing of your vows, a promise made flesh. You melt into him, your hands gripping his tunic as you pour every ounce of your heart into that kiss, into this moment that is yours and his alone.

When you finally part, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting together as you share the silence of the moment, the weight of what you’ve just done pressing down on you. There is a quiet reverence in the room, a sense that something sacred has just taken place, even if it is a secret that must be kept from the world.

Gwayne doesn’t release you, his hands still holding you close as if he’s afraid to let go, as if by doing so, this moment will shatter. His eyes search yours, and what he finds there makes him smile, a rare, genuine smile that softens the edges of his features. “You are mine now,” he whispers, a note of wonder in his voice. “And I am yours.”

“Always,” you whisper back, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “No matter what comes.”

The septon quietly gathers his things, his presence now a shadow in the background, but before he leaves, he pauses at the door, looking back at you both. “May the gods watch over you,” he says softly, and there’s a hint of sadness in his voice, as if he knows the dangers that lie ahead for two who dare to love in defiance of the world.

And then, he’s gone, leaving you and Gwayne alone in the dimly lit chamber, the only witnesses to your union now the flickering flames and the silent walls.

Gwayne takes your hand, leading you to a low table where a small feast has been laid out, simple but thoughtful. The food and drink are symbols of the life you will now share, a life that must remain hidden in the shadows, but one that is no less real for it.

You sit together, the silence between you comfortable, each of you lost in your own thoughts. When Gwayne finally speaks, his voice is quiet, but there’s a fierceness to it that makes you look up.

“We will find a way, my love,” he says, his hand reaching out to cover yours. “No matter what, we will find a way to be together.”

You nod, squeezing his hand in return, your heart swelling with love for this man who has become your everything. “Yes,” you agree, your voice filled with the same determination. “We will.”

The night stretches on, and eventually, Gwayne rises, pulling you into his arms once more. He leads you to the bed that has been prepared, and as you lie down together, the weight of the world seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you, bound together by vows spoken in secret but no less sacred.

In the quiet darkness, Gwayne’s fingers trace the outline of your face, his touch tender and full of love. “Sleep, my wife,” he murmurs, his voice a balm to your soul. “For tomorrow, we begin the rest of our lives.”

You close your eyes, your head resting against his chest, the steady beat of his heart a comforting rhythm that lulls you into sleep. And as you drift off, you know that no matter what the world might say, no matter what the future holds, you and Gwayne are bound together by something far stronger than duty or blood. You are bound by love, a love that defies the gods and the world alike.

And that, you think as sleep finally takes you, is all that matters.

The night outside the Red Keep is eerily still, as if the very air is holding its breath, waiting for something momentous to happen. Inside the queen’s chambers, the atmosphere is equally tense. Alicent Hightower sits at her desk, a single candle flickering beside her, casting shadows on the stone walls. Her hands tremble slightly as she unfolds the letter she has just received, the familiar sigil of House Hightower stamped in red wax at the seal. She has been waiting for this letter, though she dreads what it might contain.

Otto Hightower stands nearby, his hands clasped behind his back, his face an impassive mask. His eyes, however, are sharp, watching his daughter closely as she reads. The silence in the room is oppressive, broken only by the soft rustling of the parchment as Alicent’s eyes scan the contents.

As she reaches the end of the letter, her face pales, and her breath hitches. Slowly, as if the action costs her all the strength she has left, she lowers the letter to the desk. Her hand lingers on it for a moment before she crumples it in her fist, the delicate paper crinkling loudly in the quiet room.

“What does it say?” Otto asks, his voice calm but edged with curiosity.

Alicent doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she stares down at the crushed letter in her hand, as if by squeezing it tightly enough, she could somehow undo the words it contains. But no amount of denial can erase what she has read. Finally, she raises her eyes to meet her father’s gaze, and the look she gives him is one of profound unease.

“He’s coming to King’s Landing,” she says, her voice low and strained. “Gwayne. With… his family.”

Otto’s brows knit together slightly, though his expression remains carefully controlled. “His family?” he echoes, the words heavy with unspoken questions.

Alicent swallows hard, a sense of dread settling deep in her gut. “Yes,” she whispers, her mind racing as she considers the implications. The rumors she has heard, the whispers that have reached her ears in recent months, suddenly take on a new and terrifying significance.

She looks back at her father, her voice trembling as she asks, “Have you heard the whispers, Father? The rumors coming from Oldtown… about bastards walking the halls of the Hightower? Children with silver hair and purple eyes?”

Otto’s gaze narrows, a flicker of something—concern, perhaps—passing through his eyes before he schools his features once more. “Rumors, nothing more,” he replies, though there is a carefulness to his tone now. “Gwayne married a noble lady, a match arranged by our family in Oldtown. It was a quiet affair, nothing that would draw too much attention. The children you speak of are likely theirs, legitimate, though the Hightowers have chosen to keep their names and details discreet, to avoid unnecessary scrutiny.”

Alicent’s heart hammers in her chest, the dread in her stomach deepening into something closer to panic. She stands abruptly, pacing the length of her chamber as she tries to make sense of the situation. The image of those children—silver-haired, violet-eyed—flashes in her mind, and with it, a terrible realization begins to take root.

“The only woman who could give birth to children with those features,” she says slowly, her voice thick with fear, “is a Targaryen. A woman with the blood of Old Valyria. And the only one who has been close enough to Gwayne… is her. My daughter.”

Otto remains silent, his eyes following his daughter as she paces. He understands the gravity of her words, the implications of what she is suggesting. But he is also a man who has spent his life navigating the treacherous waters of court politics, and he knows better than to give in to panic.

“Alicent,” he begins, his voice firm but not unkind, “we do not know for certain. These are only rumors, whispers in the dark meant to sow discord. We cannot act on mere speculation.”

But Alicent is not so easily reassured. She stops in her tracks, turning to face him with a look of desperation. “And what if the rumors are true? What if she has given Gwayne children? What if those children come to King’s Landing with him? What then?”

Otto exhales slowly, his mind already working through the possible scenarios. “If the children are indeed of Targaryen blood,” he says carefully, “then we must ensure they are seen as legitimate. We must present them as the offspring of Gwayne’s marriage, no matter the truth. If they bear the look of Valyria, it will only serve to strengthen their claim as trueborn heirs of House Hightower.”

Alicent shakes her head, the fear in her eyes now mingled with a deep, gnawing guilt. “But what of her, Father? What of my daughter? If it becomes known that she has married her own uncle, that she has borne his children… it will be seen as a scandal, a sin in the eyes of the Seven.”

Otto moves toward her then, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder. “We will deal with it as we must,” he says, his voice resolute. “We have always been able to navigate the complexities of power, and this will be no different. But for now, we must be calm. We must wait and see what Gwayne brings with him to King’s Landing. If the whispers are true, we will control the narrative. We will ensure that whatever happens, our family remains strong, untarnished by scandal.”

But Alicent can’t shake the image of her daughter, the girl she sent away so many years ago, now grown into a woman whose life has taken a path she never anticipated. A path that has led her back to the very heart of the storm that Alicent herself helped create.

As she looks into her father’s eyes, she sees the determination there, the cold pragmatism that has always defined him. And she knows that whatever happens, Otto Hightower will do whatever is necessary to protect their family’s legacy. But as for her… Alicent is no longer sure where the line between duty and love lies. And the thought of what might come to light when Gwayne arrives sends a fresh wave of dread coursing through her.

Because deep down, Alicent knows that the rumors are more than just whispers. They are the truth, a truth she has tried so hard to deny. And that truth is coming to King’s Landing, wrapped in the guise of her brother’s family—a family that should never have existed, yet one that now threatens to unravel everything she has fought to preserve.

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm golden light over the sprawling courtyard of the Red Keep. The air is heavy with anticipation, the kind that prickles at the back of your neck and settles uneasily in your stomach. Dowager Queen Alicent stands with her father, Otto Hightower, at her side, their eyes fixed on the great gates that lead into the heart of King’s Landing. Today, Gwayne Hightower returns to the capital, and with him, the secrets that have festered in the shadows of Oldtown.

As the gates creak open, the first thing Alicent notices is the Hightower banners, fluttering proudly in the breeze. A small company of knights and retainers rides in, their armor gleaming in the late afternoon sun, followed by a carriage flanked by more soldiers. But it is the figure on horseback at the head of the procession that draws her attention, making her heart skip a beat.

Gwayne Hightower rides in with all the confidence of a man who has nothing to hide, his expression calm, almost defiant. But it is not just his presence that sends a chill down Alicent’s spine—it is the woman who rides beside him. Her daughter, the princess she sent away so many years ago, now a grown woman with the unmistakable look of her Valyrian heritage. Her silver hair, cascading down her back in loose waves, catches the light, and her purple eyes, sharp and discerning, seem to pierce through the crowd.

But it is not just her presence that shocks Alicent and Otto—it is the way she and Gwayne sit side by side, unashamed and unafraid, as if daring anyone to question their union. Behind them, four children trail on smaller horses, their features a striking mix of Hightower and Targaryen—silver hair, purple eyes, and faces that mirror the legacy of both bloodlines.

Alicent’s heart sinks. The whispers, the rumors, they are all true. Her worst fears have materialized before her very eyes. She can barely breathe as she steps forward with Otto, her voice trembling with barely contained fury.

“Gwayne… what have you done?” Alicent’s voice is sharp, almost a hiss, as she locks eyes with her brother. “How could you be so reckless? So shameless?”

Otto steps forward as well, his usually composed demeanor now laced with anger. “This… this is an abomination,” he declares, his voice low but filled with authority. “You bring shame to our house, Gwayne. And you—” he turns to his granddaughter, his voice tightening—“you have brought dishonor to your name and to the memory of your father.”

But before either of them can say more, there is a sudden movement, a blur of silver and gold as someone rushes past them. Alicent barely has time to process what is happening before Aegon, now king and clad in his royal finery, sweeps forward. His face lights up with pure joy as he closes the distance between himself and his sister.

“Sister!” Aegon exclaims, his voice filled with delight. Without a second thought, he pulls her into a tight embrace, laughing as he buries his face in her hair. “Gods, I’ve missed you.”

You return the embrace just as fiercely, the years of separation melting away in an instant. Aegon’s warmth, his familiar scent, it all feels like home, like a piece of your heart has been returned to you. When he finally pulls back, he keeps his hands on your shoulders, his eyes scanning your face as if to reassure himself that you are truly there.

Aegon then turns his attention to the four children standing quietly behind you and Gwayne, their wide eyes watching the scene with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. His face softens as he approaches them, kneeling down to their level.

“And who are these fine young dragons?” Aegon asks, his voice gentle as he ruffles the hair of the eldest boy, who looks so much like his mother.

“They’re my children,” you say softly, pride evident in your voice. “Your nephews and nieces.”

Aegon grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief and affection. “I see they take after you, sister. They have the look of Targaryens—strong, bold.” He then looks up at Gwayne, his smile never wavering. “You’ve done well, Uncle.”

Gwayne inclines his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

Alicent’s face drains of color as she watches the scene unfold, her worst fears confirmed. She steps forward, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. “Aegon… did you know about this?” Her eyes bore into her son, searching for any sign of deceit.

Aegon straightens up, turning to face his mother with an expression of calm amusement. “Of course, Mother. Did you truly think my sister and I would not stay in contact? We’ve always been close. She wrote to me often from Oldtown. I knew everything.”

Alicent’s hands shake, her nails digging into her palms as she struggles to contain her emotions. “And you… you approve of this? Of this union?” Her voice breaks on the last word, the full weight of what has happened crashing down on her.

Aegon’s smile only widens, a hint of defiance in his eyes. “Approve? I rejoice in it. They’ve done nothing wrong. They’ve followed their hearts, and that’s more than most in this wretched world can claim.”

Otto’s face is a mask of stone, but his eyes burn with anger and frustration as he steps forward. “This is not just about following one’s heart, Aegon. This is about the sanctity of the family, of the realm. A marriage like this… it will bring scandal, division. It goes against everything we’ve worked to build.”

But Aegon only laughs, a sound that echoes in the tense courtyard. “What scandal? The Seven Kingdoms are mine, and I will decide what is scandal and what is not. My sister and Gwayne are married, and their children are legitimate in my eyes. That is all that matters.”

He turns back to you and Gwayne, his expression softening once more. “Come,” he says, extending his hand to you. “Let us go inside. You’ve been away from home too long.”

Without waiting for a response, Aegon takes your hand and leads you toward the entrance of the Red Keep, Gwayne and the children following closely behind. The knights and retainers part to let you pass, their faces a mixture of shock, confusion, and respect. As you walk, you feel the weight of your family’s judgment pressing down on you, but with Aegon at your side, you feel an unshakeable sense of confidence.

Alicent and Otto remain rooted in place, watching as you and your family disappear into the castle. Alicent’s face is ashen, her eyes wide with disbelief and horror. She opens her mouth to say something, to call out to her son, but no words come. The truth of what has happened, the reality of the situation, is too overwhelming.

As the doors to the Red Keep close behind you, you can feel the walls of the castle seem to close in, suffocating in their familiar embrace. But there is also a strange sense of liberation, of triumph, in walking beside Gwayne, your husband, with your children in tow, and the support of the king himself.

Whatever the future holds, you know that this moment—this homecoming—will be the beginning of something new. Something that, for better or worse, will change the course of your family’s history forever.

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hord #hotd x female reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #gwayne x you #gwayne x reader #gwayne hightower #gwayne x y/n

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fayes-fics · 7 months

Text

Ruler & Subject

Paring: Benedict Bridgerton x royal!fem!reader

Summary: blurb where a princess and a certain untitled artist play together…

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors dni, power swap, dom/sub dom!Benedict, sub!Princessreader, hair pulling, blow job, deepthroat, breathplay, derogatory names, masturbation, swallowing, smidge of cunnilingus and face-sitting.

Word count: 1.4 k

Authors note: Another smut blurb that came as a result of a roulette prompt (“Swallow. All of it”). Written in an hour. Unbetaed. Utter and complete filth. Enjoy? 🤷‍♀️

Something about his slightly rough treatment makes you mindless with need—a want to be used by him. And he knows it. Gets that glint in his eye when you give him the signal across a room at a boring soirée.

Once in a quiet corridor, he grabs you by the back of the neck and steers you away from prying eyes. Out across the manicured gardens. Deep into your aunt’s Byzantine maze, a mist clinging to the neat privet hedges in the crisp night air.

He doesn’t even have to tell you to get on your knees anymore; it’s a reflex. As soon as he stops marching, you drop. Eager to please. His crooked smile beguiling as you gaze up at him roughly, pulling open the buttons at his hip.

“Hands behind your back,” he tuts as you go to touch his clothed thigh.

Instantly, you obey, fingers clasped over the small of your back. The rough pebble path under your knees is already a slight discomfort you know will only heighten your experience. Bruises on both your knees for him.

His cock is already leaking as it bobs against your nose, leaving a patch of wetness there that you will savour later. Without being told, you shuffle a fraction, greedily wrap your lips around the tip, suckling into your mouth. Hot, salty and tart against your tongue as you lathe the underside, and he exhales raggedly. A large hand rounding your scalp and pulling your hair at the root, a slight burn on your scalp.

“What's your signal?” He checks quickly.

You raise your left hand and tap twice on his outer thigh. Then, obediently, place the hand back. You never want to use it.

“Good,” he nods, scraping blunt fingernails over your crown. “I’m not going to be gentle,” he warns, a prickle of excitement running down your spine at that news.

He thrusts his hips forward and slides his cock deep into your mouth. Your eyes flutter shut at the blunt force attempting to school your gag reflex.

“Eyes open,” he snaps, “you will look at me the whole time.”

You do as bidden. Wide-eyed as he holds for a few beats, watching you suckle hard and accommodate his girth.

This is what you crave. So very opposite to who you both are; the role reversal and personality juxtaposition are intoxicating. A strong-willed princess on your knees for a sweet, affable, untitled artist. But not when you play like this. He is dominating and rough, bossing you around in ways no one dares. And you revel in it, insist upon it. The submission, the abdication of power, control. The pleasure to be used when, in all other aspects of your existence, you are the designated user, purely by the luck of your birth.

“My filthy princess,” he coos, one hand moving to tap your hollowed cheek, a thumb hooking into the corner of your mouth to break the tight seal you hold around his cock. “Relax your throat; let me in,” the order is velvet and steel, just like his shaft.

Slackening your suction, you exhale around him, letting your throat open. He tips forward, deeper than before, groaning at the restriction your throat provides, a bead of precum sliding over your tastebuds as he rocks back moments later.

Then his hands clamp around your ears, and he is thrusting. Using your pliant mouth, your lips a ring of soft friction as he grunts, a slick gurgling noise every time he plugs your throat. His movements get rougher, plunging in, his grip strong in your hair, the gravel crunching around your knees and toes as he rocks your whole being.

He stills, your nose buried in his pubic hair as you burble around his invasion, gaze locked on his. Unable to draw breath, You know he is waiting for that slight hint of panic on your face before giving your reprieve.

He withdraws, letting you take a shuddering, coughed breath as ropes of saliva web from your lips to his glistening cock.

“Call me it,” you implore hoarsely, feeling your spit drooping across the priceless large diamonds that drape around your neck.

“Wanton little slut,” he growls, and you flood yourself, a trickle of arousal running down your trembling inner thigh to your right knee.

“Please fuck me,” you beseech as he roughly moves your head around by your hair, chasing your mouth with his cock, a game of cat and mouse he is playing with himself as much as you.

“No. Ride your fingers if you must, but tonight, you stay on your knees.”

You whimper in disappointment before he slides back into your mouth, holding still shallow, awaiting your suckling attentions. Which you enthusiastically do. Humming and lapping at his cock, sucking hard with your tongue swirling over his frenulum. He mewls little noises, praising your talented mouth as you hitch up your skirt and hurriedly drive two fingers deep into your dripping cunt, wishing it was his cock.

He takes over again, thrusting deep as you ride your own hand, spiralling greedily towards completion. His gaze slips down, and he smirks when he sees your hand thrust under the hem of your dress.

“Give me that hand,” he instructs, holding still a weight over the length of your tongue as you offer your hand above your head.

He pulls your arm straight, a slight burn in your shoulder socket as he wraps his warm, wet mouth around your soaked fingers and laps at your juices lasciviously.

“You always taste so deliciously sweet,” he groans as he lets your fingers slip from his lips, thoroughly cleaned.

You can’t answer, your mouth too full, but he already knows it, both so feral for each other's taste. An irresistible tang that leaves you constantly coming back for more.

Just last week, he was buried under your cloak, making you orgasm - silently - over his tongue in the royal box at the opera. You wanted to scream louder than every singer on stage but had to settle for a vice-like grip on your opera goggles and a few ragged, mute whimpers. Knowing he would stop immediately if you so much as made a peep. You are sure other box patrons likely saw him emerging from under your layers, a smug smirk on his dampened face, before being summarily dismissed from your company. And yet word never got back to your mother, the queen of Prussia, or your aunt Queen Charlotte. Women of power need their pretty playthings, likely being the Ton’s shared sentiment.

Urgency takes over for both of you. A need to climax clawing at your beings. You roughly rub your clit as his movements turn sharp, more pronounced, using you without mercy, knowing it is driving you closer, too, the heady sensation of denied breaths. You feel his peak as much as you hear his barked warning, a ripple up his shaft that has you readying yourself for the salty, tart taste, his tip at the back of your tongue. You have to hold your breath as it coats the inside of your mouth, him curled over and around you, cursing, his hand heavily matted into your hair.

“Swallow,” he commands. “All of it.”

You do as you are told, almost unable not to, mouth filled, his hand slipping to your throat to ensure you follow the directive.

“Good,” he groans, rubbing your windpipe soothingly with his palm as he shudders with little aftershocks.

You feel the throb of denial, unable to complete before he did, your clit burning, engorged, needing relief. As he withdraws from your mouth, you cannot stop the little shimmy in your hips, desperate for reprieve.

“Did my little Princess not finish?” he chuckles as he tucks himself back into his britches.

You pout and shake your head, looking up at him imploringly. The smirk that grows on his face makes your heart light up.

“Alright, you can sit on my face,” he offers conciliatoryly, sinking to join you on the ground. “But it will cost you…” he ends with a clipped warning.

“What is the price?” your voice slightly hoarse, eagerly gathering your dress around your hips and shuffling over him.

“I’ll think of something,” he hums affably before disappearing under your gown.

You offer him half of Bavaria when he slides his tongue deep into your slit and has you howling at the moon. Instead, ever your loyal subject, he settles on what you already had planned for him—one of his paintings hung in the National Gallery and you wearing a choker with his initials hidden amongst a cluster of sapphires.

No taglist cos just a writing sprint blurb.

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n

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ilsanslut · 8 months

Text

꒷♡꒷ THESE BOOTS ARE MADE FOR FUCKING!

♰ art credit: eriimyon on twitter!

♰ featuring: wriothesley + neuvillette. (separate) [genshin]

♰ note: crazily enough, i’m not in heat for once, HOWEVER, i cannot, FOR THE LIFE OF ME, get over wriothelsey and neuvillette’s boots. ever since the release of fontaine, i’ve been SO DOWN BAD for those two men and the fact that neuvillette wears literal thigh highs + boots aND SO DOES WRIOTHELSEY likeee???? they’re so cunty??? like what the fuck??? i want them to ruin me fr.

sypnosis: you take your obsession with your boyfriend’s boots into your own hands. word count: 3.3k content/trigger warning(s): 18+. smut. female/fem-bodied reader SHOE/BOOT HUMPING! name calling/degradation. spanking. praise. minor petplay themes/usage of the names: puppy, pup, mutt, bitch, etc. (wriothesley) poor reincarnated hydro sovereign being scaroused yet fascinated by human desires. minor exhibitionism (neuvillette).꒷꒦

when you first mentioned what you wanted to do with wriothesley's boots to him, he laughed in your face—not maliciously, but simply amused—because he could tell from your longing stares that there was something more to the way you were practically drooling at him. so, to find out that this is what you had in mind all this time, he was not opposed to it. in fact, he was utterly fascinated to partake in your little fantasy alongside you.

“you got it, baby.” his smooth voice would come from above you as you sank to your knees before him.

your sheepish gaze lifted to meet his, and you felt yourself clench around nothing from the look in his eyes. his eyes were full of wild, unbridled lust as he peered down at you with a half-lidded gaze and salacious smirk. he was relaxing back against his large office chair, the golden lining around the red velvet making him appear kingly and regal from your position, perched on your knees like his consort. his legs were spread wide, making room to accommodate you, allowing you to take in the way his muscular thighs bulged from beneath his tight slacks, nearly bursting their well-tailored seams. he was so effortlessly hot that it drove you insane.

“c’mon, y/n.” he spoke to you, maneuvering his leg until he was able to nudge your panty-clad folds with the steel toe of his boots, causing you to immediately whine at the sudden contact and grip his calf for support. his smirk only grew, cruelly grinding the toe against your sensitive clit. “you wanted this, and yet you’re making me do all the work? take those panties off and get to it already, babe.”

you nodded, rising onto your knees, albeit shakily, as you hooked your thumbs into the waistline of your panties and pulled them down your thighs until you could discard them beside you. afterwards, both of your hands wrapped around wriothlesy’s bulky calf, and used the leverage to lower yourself onto the smooth leather of his boot’s surface. as the cool leather settled against your heated clit, your hips lurched forward while a startled squeal escaped your lips from the unexpected contact.

wriothesley was quick to soothe you, placing his hand atop your head to smooth your hair back against your crown. he lifted your chin just enough to meet your gaze, silently observing whether you were alright or if you were having any second thoughts. you responded by simply lowering your hips onto the leather of his boots again, whimpering as your puffy folds squished against the leather.

keeping your hands wrapped around his legs for purchase, you slowly but surely rocked your hips against the smooth leather, instantly becoming overwhelmed by a wave of euphoria. despite the boot's steel toe, the surface was even and soft. not to mention the excess thick stitching from a rhombodious design embroidered on top, which caused you to bump your clit against the rough, dull edge with each raunchy rock. the friction was nearly mind-numbing.

a chorus of sultry sighs left your mouth before you pulled your bottom lip between your pearly whites to muffle the sound. you felt a wave of shame wash over you as you realized what a depraved act you were committing. wriothesley, however, wasn’t having any of it.

his partially-gloved thumb met your lip, pulling the soft flesh free from your teeth. in an instant, his large palm was cupping your chin as thick digits squished your cheeks with enough force to pucker your lips. your gaze rose to meet his own, which was now boring down into you, steely and cold.

“now, now, being shy, are we?” the faintest hint of a mocking, snide smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he looked down at you from the bridge of his nose, as if you were inferior to him. something about the cruel, haughty look in his eyes as he glowered down at you caused your pussy to clench, your juices shamelessly squirting between your folds and his boot as your arousal became unbearable. you could barely utter a sentence in response, too desperate to chase your release as you continued to hump your messy pussy against his boot like a rutting puppy.

“you certainly weren’t shy when you were gawking at me like some kind of sex toy while squeezing those pretty thighs of yours—" he paused, quickly bending at the waist to pop two quick swats against your bubbly rear and thigh to accentuate his point, relishing in the sharp squeals that emitted from your lips afterwards. “—together like some bitch in heat, now were you?”

you warbled, an incoherent cacophony of pleas for him to be nice to you competing with your pleas for him to spank you again harder, amidst your pleasure moans, unable to say anything else. so, he answered for you.

using the grip on both your chin and cheeks, he nodded your head up and down like a ventriloquist manipulating his prettiest puppet.

“yeaah, i’m right aren’t i?” his words were dragged out like a mocking hum, and that amused smirk finally emerged in the form of a salacious, sly grin that spread across his lips, exposing his pointed canines.

you nodded for yourself this time, tears springing from the corners of your eyes as the pleasure you felt building within you began to grow to much for you to bear, your thighs quivering around his boot as your clit throbbed against the now ruined leather.

“so don’t you fucking dare hide these precious little sounds from me again, got it? you’re going to let everyone outside of this office know that the duke’s girlfriend is a needy little slut who gets off on rutting her pretty pussy against his boots like a naughty little puppy. understand?”

you nodded, thin lines of translucent drool beginning to pool over your blushing brims as your vision grew blurry, barely able to decipher the reality around you as the knot in your tummy grew tighter with every sloppy, needy hump of your hips.

“y-yes, wriothesley— mpfh! f-fuck, please, m’gonna cum, i can’t—!”

“—don't fuckin' back out now.” with a snarl, he interrupted you, releasing your cheeks to grasp your hair and force your gaze onto his. “come on, princess. make a mess all over my fuckin’ boot.”

and you did exactly that. with an uneasy, sloppy final stuttering of your hips, you finally came undone from your depraved acts. with your nails digging deep cresents into the leather straps that held his boots taut around his calves, the knot in your belly finally released it’s tension, allowing you to fall into the sweet bliss of your orgasm. your voice echoed through the steel chambers of his office as immeasurable warmth and pleasure washed over you, misting your senses. your eyelids fluttered as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, your panting, heaving breaths creating puffs of condensation against the steel that encircled the front of his thighs, where your cheek was now nestled. you could feel your clit throbbing against the ruined leather of his boot, your juices squelching out of you and smearing against both his boot and your folds in an obscene manner. a manner that made a satisfied, smug smirk arise on wriothesley’s lips.

soon enough, you came down from your high with his large hand stroking along your tresses, coaxing you along the whole way. when your shrill mewls turned into breathless pants and occasional whimpers, his hand would find itself on your cheek, his thumb stroking your cheek in an endearing fashion.

“there you go. y’did so good for me, princess.” his smooth, baritone voice calmed you, bringing you back to reality from the high heavens.

you mumbled a feeble "thank you" for him allowing you to indulge in your fantasies while nestling your cheek against his soothing touch.

he laughed at this, deep and throaty, as he slipped his foot from beneath your messy folds, chuckling at the high-pitched whine that ripped from your lips as he did so.

“you’re welcome, precious . . . but you do know how things work around here in the fortress, don’t you?”

his voice had dropped an octave with a suggestive undertone, prompting you to open your eyes and peer wearily up at him with a confused glint. he met your gaze with a lascivious narrow, slowly removing his hand from your cheek and dragging it languidly over his own thigh until it rested atop the prominent bulge that had recently formed in his slacks. your mouth watered at the sight of his painfully erect cock threatening to burst through his zipper at any moment now. it seemed as though he enjoyed your little show just as much as you did.

“what is once graciously given, another must receive in return.”

“you want to what?” neuvillette would inquire, pausing mid sip from his silver chalice containing the finest water in fontaine as he peered you incredulously—an emotion rarely present on his otherwise stoic and aloof visage.

being the iudex of fontaine, he has seen all counts of life and even the darkest parts of humanity present in the courtroom. he even went out of his way to better understand you, your likes, your dislikes, your interests, your kinks, and your deepest desires. when dealing with humans, he knew to never be surprised by whatever they could have in store for him, but nothing could’ve prepared him for your anything-but-innocent inquiry.

what made matters worse is that you couldn't even explain where this desire stemmed from or why you wanted to perform such a lewd act—not to him—but rather to his boots of all things. luckily for you, your lover was a curious being, no matter how much he seemed otherwise.

wordlessly, he placed his chalice atop his large oak desk before scooting his chair back to make enough room to accommodate you. silently, he raised a hand, gesturing to the space between him and his desk, inviting you to sit. your gaze rose, meeting his own, only to see that there was an essence of carnality present in his bright periwinkle eyes.

“come.” he ordered, his voice bellowing with the faintest of echos in the spacious chamber of his office. his hand turned, his gloved index finger pointing to the carpeted floor beneath his feet. “show me.”

like a sacrificial lamb being offered to the shrine, you hesitantly pranced around the large oak desk until you came to stand before your sovereign lover, just as he had asked. his legs spread wide, both of his knees resting mere inches away from both of your thighs. your gaze fell to the ground, admiring his expensive shoes with regal gold rivets branded on the tips. thinking about the cool metal and how the smooth ridges would feel on your clit, your thighs squished together as you felt your arousal brewing between them—an action that immediately drew neuvillette's attention.

“you know i’m a busy man, and yet here you are, hesitating when i’m giving you exactly what you desire.” the deep rumble of his voice drew you from your reverie, drawing your attention back to him, only to see that he was now leering at you from where his head rested on his balled fist. his free hand rose, gently ecircling his large palm around your hip, his thumb rolling slow, titillating circles against the bone. you could feel the slightest of unsteady trembles in his grip, almost as though he were refraining from taking you right then and now atop his desk.

“do you intend to continue to waste both of our time, or will you finally kneel and act on your licorous endeavors?”

a meager apology tumbled from your lips, and you finally gathered the courage to lower yourself to your knees before him, both of your thighs straddling his right boot. one of your hands wrapped around his spat covered calf, steadying yourself as you hovered above his shoe, already feeling the coolness of the riveted, feathered-diamond design beneath your heated core. pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you grabbed at the seat of your panties and pulled them to the side, watching as a thin strand of your translucent arousal already leaked onto his shoe.

you let gravity take control of you, allowing it to push you down until you sank against the cool leather and smooth gold of his shoes. as the underside of your sensitive pearl rested on the smooth ridge of the steel, contrasting blissfully with the strapping leather, a shuddering sigh escaped your brims. you had only imagined what his shoe would feel like beneath your folds, but this was beyond any expectations you could’ve had. without wasting any more time, you slowly ground your hips to and fro along the surface of his shoe, each sensuous drag of your puffy folds against chilled steel and leather drawing a mewl of bliss from your brims.

above you, you heard your draconic lover chuckling in a cacophony of emotions: amusement, fascination, and, most of all, incredulity.

“humans.” he sighed mirthfully, a fond smile on his face, as he watched you rut against his shoe like a needy puppy in need of proper discipline. “your kind never ceases to amaze me with their intricacies—you included, starlight.”

you could only manage a whimper in response, your words becoming garbled and incoherent as you attempted to utter a formulated sentence amidst your writhing but failed horribly.

“what’s that, love?” he was having fun with this now—something about witnessing your sinful plight warming his water-tight heart. “use your words, darling. don’t tell me you’ve gone stupid on me already."

you glowered at him from under your lashes, your lips forming an indignant pout as your cheeks burned from his taunting and your embarrassment. your mouth opened—not to release more of those sweet moans that were music to his ears—but instead to shoot back a brazen retort, when all of a sudden, you were cut off by raucous knocking on his office door that captured both of your attention.

“monsieur.” a flat, feminine voice spoke from the other side—one that you both recognized.

clorinde.

immediately, you froze. your nails dug into the fabric of neuvillette’s spats as your hips stilled, your body trembling from the way your clit throbbed against chilled steel, aching for you to continue and bring you your sweet, sweet release.

your gaze shifted to his, and you noticed that all amusement had vanished from his eyes, leaving only a fleeting trace of unease behind them. placing your weight on your knees, you made a move to push yourself up so that the both of you didn’t get caught in your nefarious actions, but you were stopped.

a hand, gentle yet firm, placed itself atop your head, preventing you from rising but mere centimeters off of his shoe. confusion washed over your features, as you were shocked that he had stopped you knowing that someone else had just arrived, but everything became clear when you noticed the lecherous glint in his now narrowed eyes.

he needn’t utter a word to you to convey his intentions. instead, he arched his foot, causing the tip of his arousal-slickened boot to once again meet your sopping folds, eliciting—what would have been—a startled squeal from you if you had not muffled the sound by shoving your face into his knee. your pleasure-stricken, pleading eyes met his own, begging for mercy at the prospect of being caught in the act by not only your friend but also his closest subordinate, but his order was clear.

he wanted you to continue, regardless of your newfound audience.

and who were you to disobey the iudex’s orders?

it was only when you succumbed to his will by sinking yourself back onto his shoe and resuming your sloppy pace that he said anything else.

“enter.”

the sound of heavy oak swinging open, followed by the dull tutting of sharp heels against carpeted tiles, effectively sealed your fate. you tried your damnedest not to draw suspicion from the extremely perceptive woman by keeping your sinful mewls quiet, but as your orgasm drew nearer, the effort became not only more difficult but also taxing. daring a glance neuvillette's way, you could only smolder in silent, seething envy at how composed he remained, as if his lover were not riding his shoe within an inch of her life beneath him.

"i have completed the report on the recent fatuus trial that you requested. the one where he failed to best me in a duel before the trial carried on as normal."

her voice was so close, so unassuming. the sound of a sudden weight striking the oaken surface indicated that she was only a short distance away from the desk, probably dropping a heavy folder on it.

your cunt could not help but gush at the allure of it all—you grinding your pretty pussy against the now-tainted leather of your lover's shoe, right under the duellist's nose. the pressure behind your abdomen had begun to build, threatening to burst at any moment. you prayed to whatever higher being was listening that clorinde would not hear the downright debaucherous sound of your pussy squelching against his steel tip.

“hm, i see.” you could hear the inquisitiveness in neuvillette’s tone as he spoke, flipping through the pages of clorinde’s report to skim over the report that would be gone over later in greater detail. “thank you, this is very much appreciated.”

whatever clorinde uttered in response, you couldn’t hear or see. the tiniest of breathless squeaks emitted from your lips as your hips drew forward with one more quivering drag, finally delivering you over that cliff to your sweet, sweet, blissful salvation. you would have to apologize later for the deep teeth marks you left on neuvillette's spats, which were accompanied by a sharp and sudden clearing of his throat to warn you of those misbehaving pearly whites. you were powerless to stop it, though. that was the only thing keeping you from being exposed in this manner and losing the last shred of your dignity.

languidly and sloppily, you rode out those last few serene waves of your orgasm before finally slipping back to reality—one that was about to drop a rude awakening onto you.

“oh, and monsieur?” clorinde's voice echoed throughout the chamber as if she had already moved to the other side. when had she arrived over there?

“hm?” neuvillette responded, his hand casually returning to your head and stroking over your locks to coax you through those blissful waves in an endearing fashion.

“the next time you and y/n are intimate, could you please not accept guests during your private sessions?”

you could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed.

defeated, you deflated against your lover’s thigh with an audible groan, to which neuvillete would in turn reply with a chuckle of his own, offering a nod of confirmation the duellist’s way.

“so we’ve been told. thank you once again, clorinde.”

her departure was signaled by the heavy doors swinging shut, leaving you and your draconic lover all alone once more. with your cheek pressed against his inner thigh, you peered up at him, mortification evident in your eyes. except for a reassuring pat on your opposite cheek, neuvillette, however, did little to ease your displeasure.

“making a mess of yourself and my shoes, and getting not only yourself but the both of us caught, y/n? by our champion duellist no less?” he tutted at you, one hand coming to his wrist to peel off his gold-riveted gloves, revealing scaled and oceanic blue-tainted hands.

when you realized what his words and actions meant, your heart dropped into the deepest recesses of your stomach, festering with the butterflies that had begun to flutter.

“n-no, i didn’t mean—”

a mere glare was all it took to effectively silence you, your lips pressing shut against one another as you nearly flinched from the severity. you would be lying if you said that your clit didn’t throb with anticipation for whatever he held in store for you.

“stand. i do believe you’re in need of a proper punishment, darling.”

would you guys like a part two with different characters? mayhaps a cute lil' series? name a few characters down below or inbox me! ♡

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