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valeskafics · 2 hours
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"Combat" - Feyd Rautha x Princess!Reader
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a/n: grouped a few anon requests together along with one from @the-shadow-queen02 🩷
Summary: When he is excluded from a competition to win your hand, Feyd decides he will not let something so insignificant as an invitation stop him.
TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, fighting, mentions of scars, feyd's black cum, fluff, handjob, p in v sex, inkpie
Word Count: 2,300
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dune characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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For most of Feyd Rautha’s young life, his uncle has been planning and plotting to secure a match between him and either the Princess Irulan or you, her older sister. You are, of course, the more desirable match of the two. If Feyd marries you, he becomes Emperor upon your father’s passing.
However, when the Baron suggests such a match to your father, he is quickly rebuffed. Your father proclaims that you will marry if and when you so choose. It is unheard of, truth be told, but then again? You always were the Emperor’s little darling. Many say if the man has a weakness, it is you. His fearsome first-born. While Irulan was trained in the way of the Bene Gesserit, you chose an alternate path. From what Feyd has heard of you, you are a legendary warrior in your own right. You have trained with your father’s Sardaukar soldiers from your early childhood, and have grown into a fearsome fighter. Your father has even sent you to put down rebellions in far-reaching systems - ones where he was confident that you would not get hurt.
Feyd always finds himself looking forward to news of you. You fascinate him. A woman who finds joy in fighting and training is a woman after his own heart. So, he allows his uncle’s aspirations to take root, convincing himself that being paired off with you is not only inevitable, but something to look forward to. He has seen portraits of you, of course. Your fighting prowess is only outmatched by your beauty. It makes him all the more eager for when the day of your union finally comes.
When the time finally comes and you decide that you are willing to get married, it is announced to members of the Imperium that you will only wed a man who can best you in combat. This is the only way you can deem them worthy of being your husband. The idea of a tournament of sorts, one where you are the champion, is exciting to Feyd, and he finds himself eagerly awaiting for his invitation to arrive, training vigorously, knowing that there is no way the Emperor will neglect one of his most loyal vassal Houses.
And yet he does. Perhaps it is a mistake that Feyd is not invited. That has to be it, right? After all, House Harkonnen is in good standing with the Emperor. It makes no sense for Feyd not to be invited. At least, that’s what he tries to tell himself. His uncle takes it as an insult, of course, stating that he would not have wanted his line to mix with that of the weakling Emperor anyway. Feyd knows that is a blatant lie.
Not one to be deterred, he continues training, doing his best to improve his skill in anticipation of fighting you. After all, he is a man who gets what he wants. And the only woman he wants, the only woman who could ever satisfy him is you.
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Feyd arrives in disguise the morning of the tournament, admiring you from afar as you train with the Sardaukar soldiers. You are every bit as beautiful as your pictures. And your fighting skill is unparalleled. He has never seen anyone move with such lethal grace, such precision. It is more like you are dancing than fighting, easily avoiding being hit and instead managing to land your fair share of palpable hits. You are just as impressive as he dreamed you would be.
As if sensing his gaze on you, you turn to face him. Your hair falls in your face as you move to stand, a smirk playing on your lips as you walk over to him.
“A masked contender?” You ask, your voice a playful lilt as you begin circling him.
Feyd chuckles, “Yes, Princess. Is that a problem?”
“Not a problem,” you hum, stopping in front of him, your eyes moving up and down his form appraisingly as you twirl your blade deftly between your fingertips, his gaze drawn to the sight, “I just usually like seeing the faces of the men I manage to put on their backs.”
“Perhaps this man will put you on yours, Princess.”
You laugh, and the sound is almost musical to him as you saunter away, the natural sway of your hips all but entrancing him, “You’re a funny one, my mysterious masked friend. It’ll be fun knocking you to the ground. I like them cocky.”
“Then you’re going to love me.”
You glance back at him over your shoulder, giving him one last amused smile before disappearing from sight.
Feyd has never thought of himself as a romantic. Not once in his life. But everything changed the moment he saw you. Now, he’s consumed by thoughts of you, of holding you in his arms, kissing you, having you all to himself. His princess. His fearsome warrior princess.
The tournament begins in earnest and Feyd watches with a grin on his face as you defeat your opponents one by one. He sees some of the most fearsome fighters in the known universe go toe to toe with you and be defeated with ease. You are formidable, for lack of a better word. He has never seen anyone fight like you, not even back on Giedi Prime. He can’t even begin to imagine what you’ll be like in the bedchamber, what fire you might bring there.
He watches as you manage to take down Paul Atreides with only a few well-timed hits, tiring him out, grinning victoriously as you raise your first in the air to the cheers of all those present on Corrino. The applause is thunderous, shaking the ground as you yell out, asking if there is any other man present who dares challenge you. Feyd walks toward the arena, passing the Atreides boy as the latter is leaving. The younger man gives him a grimace, rubbing his shoulder.
“Good luck to you, friend,” he mumbles, “That isn’t a woman. That’s a hellbeast.”
Despite having no good feelings toward the boy or his house, Feyd cracks a smile and chuckles slightly at his words, pitying him. After all, the future Duke has just been humiliated. One has to feel somewhat bad for him.
Feyd strides onto the combat field, his face still concealed by his mask. You smirk at him.
“My masked friend. Select your weapon of choice and we shall begin.”
He grabs a blade, not dissimilar from yours, checking its balance before nodding to himself and turning to face you, “May thy knife chip and shatter.”
You let out a quiet laugh before nodding, “May thy knife chip and shatter, friend.”
The two of you circle each other, your blade held in front of your face as you anticipate his movements. But Feyd knows he is unlike any other opponent you have gone up against. Your eyes go wide at how quickly he lunges at you, nearly managing to tackle you to the ground. You manage to dodge his advance in the nick of time. He can tell you found it too close for comfort. And before you can right yourself, he lunges again, this time managing to throw you off balance, smirking to himself as you stumble, catching yourself.
“Not bad,” you compliment, standing again, launching yourself at him, your blade clashing against his in a desperate attempt to regain your dominance, “What planet do you come from, my masked friend?”
Feyd does not answer, instead lunging at you once more, his body pinning yours to the ground. You stare up at him, your eyes wide as you grapple with him, doing your best to use your hips to push him off of you. But he is relentless. And eventually, you begin to tire.
And, to everyone’s surprise, the warrior princess yields. You stare up at Feyd, breathlessly voicing your defeat.
“I yield.” The two of you gaze into each other’s eyes for a long moment, the silence in the arena deafening as you question, your voice uncharacteristically soft, “And might I finally learn the identity of my champion? My husband?”
He smirks at your words and removes his mask, unveiling himself as na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. And you do not shy away. You simply reach a hand out to caress his cheek. He has never been touched like this before. So gently, with so much care. Your hands are calloused, much as his are, your arms littered with scrapes and bruises from your endeavors. And each one of them is beautiful. He thinks he could spend eternity trying to count them, to place a kiss to every single one.
“Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you murmur, “My husband.”
“My princess,” he rasps, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes closing, “My wife.”
And despite your father’s protests, you rise to your feet, lifting Feyd’s arm in the air beside yours, beaming out at the crowd, “I wish to pronounce na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen my champion. And my future husband.”
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The night of your wedding comes quicker than either of you anticipate. After the ancient Harkonnen rites are completed, you and Feyd stand in front of the bed you are meant to share from this day forward. Feyd, for his part, is unsure of what to do. He has never been with a princess, after all, much less one he is meant to spend the rest of his life with.
Much less one he has loved since before he even met them.
You take his hand gently, bringing it to your face. Again, he feels that strange thudding in his chest, like someone has plunged their hand into his ribcage and is squeezing his heart. Your voice is gentle, unlike the way it sounds when the two of you are in public.
“Don’t be afraid.”
“Why would I be afraid of you? I bested you in combat?” He gives what could almost be considered a nervous chuckle.
You shake your head, your thumb running along his cheekbone before you pull him along to the bed, “You don’t have to wear a mask around me anymore. I know who you are. I accept all of you. I love all of you. Let me show you my love.”
Feyd gasps as you press your lips to his in a tender first kiss. He never expected this from you. He has never felt this before. Never in his life has he thought of himself as worthy of gentleness, of tenderness. But here, he is like wet clay in your hands, his lips eagerly chasing yours every time you break away for air. You gently push him down on the bed, undoing his shirt, your palms tracing over his pale, smooth skin. You press a kiss to his chest, down to his stomach before undoing the buttons on his trousers. Your strokes are featherlight and gentle even on his cock, your thumb pressing softly against the vein that runs along its underside, making him let out a choked moan.
You pull your hand back and he lets out a noise of protest at the absence of your touch, but you merely spit on your hand and begin again. And you gaze at him with the sweetest, kindest eyes he has ever seen in his life. He hardly knows what to do with himself, his breath quickening as you bring him closer and closer to the edge.
“You’re beautiful,” you say softly, “We may be warriors in the arena. Even in the bedchamber at times, I don’t mind. But tonight? Let me be gentle with you. Let me show you what the touch of a lover can feel like.”
He nods, feeling weak and pathetic as his eyes water ever so slightly. He grabs your wrist, moving your hand away.
Feyd’s voice is low and husky as he speaks, “I want to be inside you.”
You smile, moving away from him just enough to slip out of your dress, revealing your bare body to him. It is not unblemished. You have scars, the scars of a warrior. And as you join your body with his, a low moan erupting from his lips, he presses a kiss to one on your shoulder, one on your chest. He’ll commit every scar to memory, watch as they begin to fade over time. But his love for you, his desire never will.
You move against him, his hands resting on your hips, your hair falling like a curtain around the two of you, protecting you from the outside world, from the expectations of his family and your own.
Feyd watches as you move your hand between where your bodies join to circle your swollen pearl. He pauses for a moment before sitting up, pulling you into a kiss, his hand replacing yours as he rolls his thumb against you, his breath mixing with yours as you reach your peak, moaning his name against his lips.
He reaches his own soon after, finding himself utterly spent, the sight of his black seed trickling down your thigh as you lay down beside him bringing a slight smirk to his lips.
No, not a smirk. A smile.
It was never like this with his Harpies, nor any lover he’s had before. He chuckles as you bite down gently on his shoulder, giving you an amused look as you gaze up at him.
“You’re like a little kitten,” he teases, wrapping his arms around you, a sense of calm coming over him, the likes of which he’s never felt before, “Go on, Princess. It’s alright.”
You laugh softly, biting again, your eyes slowly closing as you mumble, “You had best get some rest before our next round husband. I have no intention of being gentle this time around.”
He looks forward to that.
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valeskafics · 2 hours
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"Portrait Of A Goddess In Love" - Benedict Bridgerton x Reader
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a/n: hi friends! this is my first time writing for benedict (or for bridgerton at all) - please be nice lol. i'm planning on writing more for both him and colin 🩷
Summary: You grant your husband a request that he will not soon forget.
TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, fingering, p in v sex, breeding kink, creampie
Word Count: 1,890 words
Rating: 18+, MDNI
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Bridgerton characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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Three years on in your marriage to Benedict and the two of you still act like newlyweds. It is not uncommon for your household staff to walk in on the two of you in compromising positions anywhere and everywhere around your estate. It has made for some rather colorful stories to spread around the ton, courtesy of Lady Whistledown, but neither of you can bring yourselves to stop. Or care.
You let out a yawn, waking up in your husband’s arms, eyes opening ever so slightly before closing once again. You cuddle up to Benedict, his warm, bare body against yours, his arms cradling you as he begins to stir. He lets out a contented sigh as you tuck yourself under his chin.
“My beautiful wife,” he says gently, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head, “Did you sleep well, my dearest?”
“Like a baby,” you tell him, kissing his chest.
“So did you sleep well because of last night’s activities or in spite of them?” Benedict questions, smirking at you, making you giggle as you crane your neck up to brush your nose against his in a display of affection.
“You tired me out, husband. What more can I say?”
He moves a hand to caress your face, his thumb running along your cheekbone. These tiny moments you share, in the privacy of your shared bedroom far away from the prying eyes of the ton, have become almost sacred to the two of you. Benedict’s hand moves to rest against your hip, trailing up along your side, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his touch.
“Ben?”
“Hm?” He questions, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.
“You know how you mentioned that you wished to paint me… Bare?”
Benedict lets out a hum of acknowledgment, his hand moving to cup one of your breasts, squeezing gently, groaning at the feel of your soft flesh beneath his palm, “I certainly do. And you promised me you would think about it before outright rejecting my request.”
“I have decided to grant it.” He pauses in his ministrations, a grin spreading across his face as he meets your eyes, “I know I was hesitant before… But there’s something thrilling about the idea.”
“I had a feeling you would come around eventually,” he says, kissing the tip of your nose, then brushes his lips against yours as he whispers, “So you truly would allow me to then?”
You nod your head, “We could do it today? We have no commitments. And it is raining.”
A devilish grin spreads across your husband’s handsome face, “Perfect. Then let me go get my supplies. You just wait here and keep looking beautiful.”
After he has set up his easel and canvas, you prop your head up on your hand, posing in the way which he requested you to. Benedict comes to fix your hair so that it flows to your side rather than obscuring your figure, fixes the placement of your other hand and your leg, pressing a kiss to your cheek before taking a seat. You watch as he takes out his brushes, dipping them in paint before he begins to sketch you out on the canvas.
Benedict’s eyes on you are so intense, so piercing that it isn’t long before you feel that familiar throbbing between your thighs, that need to be filled by your beloved, for him to hold you, pin you down to the bed, and claim your body as he has nearly every night since the day you said “I do”. You press your thighs together, your hand trailing along your breasts down to your stomach. Almost as if he can read your innermost thoughts, Benedict’s cheeks flush. Seeing you bare like this excites him, even after admiring you in this way so many times.
“Is that a blush, Ben?” You tease.
He rolls his eyes, shaking his head. You watch the way his bicep flexes as he runs a hand through his unkempt hair, that adorable grin playing on his lips as he continues admiring you unabashedly for a moment longer. Finally he returns to the task at hand, chiding you playfully.
“Don’t try to distract me. I am an artist at work here, darling.”
You sigh dramatically but allow him to continue, waiting patiently as he moves his brush along the canvas. The rain patters against your window, thunder booming and lightning crackling as he continues about his task, the storm lending itself to the atmosphere in your room. You are beautiful, Benedict muses as he continues to paint your likeness, now working on the details of your gorgeous face, those eyes that have held him captive for nearly half his life. You look irresistible while clothed, but like this? Utterly bare and vulnerable, gazing at him so gently?
You look downright divine. Like you have descended from the heavens themselves only to bless him with your angelic presence.
“Just stay still another moment longer, my love.”
His voice is a low, husky whisper, and you know that he is having as hard a time resisting the urge to take you here and now as you are resisting asking him to. You nod, smiling at him softly.
“For you? Always.”
Benedict finishes painting the contours of your body, the flow of your hair, every line bringing him more and more excitement, his cock growing harder at the mere sight of you laying there, gazing at him. He regrets having put on his trousers to go and grab his supplies from his studio, because now? They are so uncomfortably tight that all he can think of is the relief he will feel when he finally has you in his arms again.
He beckons you over to see the finished product, watching with hooded eyes as you walk toward him, his gaze hungry. You move to stand beside him, letting out a soft gasp as you admire the painting.
“Oh, Ben… It’s beautiful!”
For a moment, his hunger is forgotten and his artist’s pride is satisfied as he moves to stand beside you, pressing a kiss to your temple, “It is far from finished-”
“Don’t be so modest!” You slap his chest playfully, “It’s stunning. I adore it. And you.”
“And I adore you,” he murmurs, turning to face you completely, cupping your face in his hands as he whispers, “Being able to look at you like this. You are the most exquisite creature I have ever beheld.”
You beam up at him, with all the radiance of a woman in love, “Come warm your muse in our bed, my darling. Finish your masterpiece later. I need you.”
He nods eagerly, ridding himself of his trousers, both of you bare once again as you lay side by side in bed, your bodies pressed flush against each other. He can feel your every breath as it seeps into his own, his fingers running through your hair.
“You were made for my bed,” he breathes, “I swear you were.”
You giggle as his hand moves to your thigh, squeezing your supple flesh with a low groan. His hands feel so perfect against you, you cannot help but tilt your head back as his lips find your neck, his fingers sliding between your slick folds. You’re always so wet for him, so ready for his touch. You moan softly as he nibbles at your collarbone, leaving his mark as he pumps his fingers in and out of you at a lazy, languid pace. After all, you have all day together. Why should he not take his time to savor you?
“Ben,” you whisper softly, feeling his thumb circle your swollen pearl, your breath catching as he presses down against it, “I’m ready for us to start our family.”
He continues his movements, bringing you to the edge of ecstasy, watching your face twist with pleasure as you come undone against his fingertips. He wonders if your words were a mere dream as he pins you down against the bed, rolling on top of you.
“Are you sure, my love?” He asks softly, his cock hard and heavy against your thigh, teasing your entrance, “I do not wish to rush you into anything.”
“We have had a beautiful three years of just you and I, Benedict,” you reply, resting a hand on his cheek, watching as he closes his eyes and leans into your touch, “But I wish to start our family. I wish to have your children.”
“You are certain?” He asks, his heartbeat racing as he joins his body with yours.
Benedict lets out a low groan as his cock slips between your slick folds, filling you to the hilt. You have always taken him so well, so perfectly, your legs moving to wrap around his hips, a silent plea for him to fuck you harder, deeper. His hands move to your ass, squeezing and kneading your flesh.
“Yes, Benedict. I have never been more certain of anything since the day I agreed to marry you.”
With that, your husband lets go of any inhibitions he may have had, his hips rolling against yours in an eager, desperate rhythm. Your lips meld against his, arms wrapping around his neck as he ruts against you, the fat head of his cock brushing against that sweet spot inside of you that has you crying out his name.
“You insatiable man,” you murmur against his lips, “One would think after three years perhaps your lust would have been somewhat sated.”
He laughs softly, committing the sound of the rain against your window, the sound of your moans and his skin slapping against yours to memory, “I am what you married. And my lust for you will never be sated. Not with how desperately I love you.”
You nibble at his bottom lip, giggling when he moans, his thrusts growing faster and faster, more frantic as he chases his release, his every thought consumed by the thought of spilling himself inside you, watching your love bear fruit, watching you grow round with his child, the whole ton being made aware that it was he, Benedict Bridgerton, who gave you his baby. His hips slot against yours, your walls squeezing around him almost unbearably tight as you reach your peak, white hot pleasure washing over you as you all but scream his name, your nails digging into his back. The sensation of you reaching your climax is enough to trigger his own as he spills himself inside you, thick white ropes of his seed painting your walls white.
Benedict stays like that for a long moment, gazing into your eyes, moving a hand to brush your hair off your face as he softens inside of you.
“You will make a perfect mother,” he whispers affectionately.
“And you will make the most wonderful father,” you reply, beaming at him, “I love you, Mr. Bridgerton.”
He smirks, “And I love you, Mrs. Bridgerton. Rest for now and recover your energy. Because your insatiable husband is nowhere near finished with you, my love.”
“I look forward to it, husband.”
Needless to say the entire ton is quite scandalized when they learn of the fact that a nude painting of you hangs in the foyer of your and Benedict’s home, the masterpiece being titled “Portrait of a Goddess in Love”.
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valeskafics · 2 hours
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Well, I was asking all that to kinda dump my video game ideas for some random characters!
I think playing Stardew Valley with Osferth would be such a joy! Simple farming and fighting some monsters! Our sweet baby would know what he was doing, with a little panicking in the beginning. Same babe, same.
Rhaenyra would play the sims, I think. Maybe do those horrible challenges that I've seen floating around on youtube. Would make all her kids in character creation!
I can see Billy Taylor playing Animal Crossing. Very cute and a little stressful.
I would love to see Aemond play Alien Isolation, nightmare mode. Just as a treat. For me.
Viserys would play Sim City. Nothing can change my mind on that one!
And Aegon ii would play Feel the Magic xy/xx. It's a weird sexual dating game. There is even a bit of the game where you are trying to get the love interest's bra off, if I remember correctly. And he'd play Hunie Pop. Another sexual game.
Kfkfjfjdjdjdj I AGREE WITH ALL OF THIS OH MY GOD ABSOLUTELY YES
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valeskafics · 2 hours
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I don’t want to be THAT bitch but-
CHRIS PART TWO WHEN?!!!!?!??!!??! 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵
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Into You
Modern!Aegon Targaryen x Reader (Cam Girl AU)
TW: camming, profanity, masturbation 18+ MDNI
WC: 1,682
A/N: omg this is my first time posting Aeg on this blog. That trailer has me in my (horny) feels … this will have at least one more part!
You didn't view camming as a serious endeavor; it was simply a way to earn additional income and make sure you could cover your rent each month. Alongside your job at the nearby coffee shop, you were also completing your second year at King's Landing University. You shared a small apartment on the outskirts of the city with your best friend, Helaena. Her family came from money, but you wouldn’t know it. She was a humble as they come. She worked a regular job just like you did.
It was around 6:30 on Friday night when she rapped at your bedroom door.
“Yeah, Hel? Come on in.”
“I’m getting ready to leave,” she said as she frowned at you, “you’re positive you don’t want to come out? I’m sure Aemond or Jace will buy you a drink!” She said as she wiggled her eyebrows.
“As much as I would love to, I’ll have to pass. I’m loaded with homework.”
“Alright fine” she huffed, “whatever you say! If I’m not home by 1 AM, someone’s drugged me and you need to come looking for me.”
Helaena didn’t go out often, or without you but you needed some extra cash and figured tonight would be a perfect opportunity to get on cam. Your best friend kind of knew about your little side hustle, but you still chose to do it when she wasn’t home. She didn’t need to be subjected to that.
You were eager to log on tonight to show off the brand new lingerie you had just purchased. Being that you weren’t able to get online often, you made sure to go above and beyond for your subscribers when you did. It was a special occasion each time you logged on.
Your new lingerie was gorgeous. A deep emerald green ensemble. A lacy push-up bra, adorned with tiny bows and delicate straps with a pair of lace panties that left little to the imagination. Around your leg was a garter encrusted with tiny rhinestones and a pair of thigh high stockings that hugged the meaty flesh of your thighs perfectly. Helaena had joked when you opened it that you must have bought it for her, deeming it “the perfect shade of Hightower green.”
After making yourself some dinner and taking an everything shower that took forever, it was finally time to log on.
“Hey guys! Little bit of a long time, no see,” you begin to say into the camera, “did you miss me?” You ask, “because I’ve sure missed you!”
lonewolf commented: gorgeous as ever
fleabottomfloozy commented: missed you so much baby
You had regular subscribers and a few new ones every now again on the nights where the website had more traffic than usual, Friday’s and Saturday’s mostly. Tonight was like any other night, a few new names here and there but one in particular caught your eye.
tequilasunfyre has entered the chat. You were caught off guard. Sunfyre. Why was that ringing a bell? It was familiar, but where did you know it from?
It was as if a lightbulb went off in your head, your eyes widened as you made the connection: Sunfyre is the name of Aegon’s golden retriever. Aegon Targaryen. Helaena’s brother.
lonewolf left a comment: is this a new set? love it xx
unbroken_33 left a comment: ur so sexy
tequilasunfyre left a comment: love the green
Your could feel your cheeks heat up at his compliment as a smirk formed on your face. Of course he does, runs in the family.
Hello? Family? Hel’s brother. You begin to panic a bit internally, but you’ve got a show to put on, you need to focus. You never show your face and he doesn’t really know you that well. He won’t know it’s you.
“Oh, this?” You ask seductively, trying to raise the octave of your voice just a little higher out of paranoia. Hoping that Aegon wouldn’t be able to recognize it, if he hadn’t already. You tugged on the flimsy material of the lacy panties, letting it slap back against the skin of your hipbone.
tequilasunfyre left a comment: yeah … U should take them off ;)
Normally, you would do so without hesitation. It’s what you’re on here to do: Get naked and touch yourself for strangers. But Aegon wasn’t a stranger. He was Helaena’s brother.
luckylannister left a comment: Not for free, dumbass. Gotta tip her for stuff like that.
Tips were encouraged but not always necessary. Sometimes you were horny enough to want to get off on camera without being tipped individually by viewers… but they didn’t need to know that.
luckylannister tipped you $100
fleabottomfloozy tipped you $150
tequilasunfyre tipped you $200
Damn.
This entire situation was wrong. You should end the livestream right now. Come up with an excuse, promise you’ll make it up to your viewers next time and block his account from accessing your page — but for some reason that not even you are sure of, you don’t.
“Eager are we?” You giggle, flashing a sweet smile at the camera, biting down on your lower lip.
“Let’s start out slow, boys, hmm?” You ask as you begin to rub your palms over your tits and squeeze them gently before you run your hands down your stomach. You turn around so your ass is facing the camera, bending over slightly, looking over your shoulder at the tiny lense. You loop two fingers through the band of the garter on your thigh and take it off slowly, teasingly tossing it at the camera.
unbroken_33 tipped you $250
“Thanks so much for the tips, you guys. It is so sweet of you. I don’t deserve you!” You giggle.
luckylannister left a comment: no, we don’t deserve U
lonewolf left a comment: we are unworthy!!!
Next, you slowly unclasp your bra and let it fall to the floor. You slowly start to jiggle your breasts, making sure to capture every movement on camera. You run your hands over your chest, teasing at your nipples until they become hard. As you continue, a wave of excitement crashes over you, and you know the viewers can see it too. You make sure to give them a close-up view of your bouncing tits.
fleabottomfloozy commented: Gods, they’re perfect
lonewolf left a comment: Mommy? Sorry. Mommy?
unbroken_33 tipped you $300
tequilasunfyre tipped you $400
“Oh wow,” you chirp, “thank you! You guys are too sweet to me. God’s, just the thought of it is turning me on,” you drawl.
luckylannister left a comment: no, no… thank u!!!
unbroken_33 left a comment: yeah? You’re wet, huh baby?
“Yeah, I can feel myself getting wetter and wetter… fuck,” you moaned out.
tequilasunfyre tipped you $600
Oh? Fuck.
“You guys wanna see?”
Without letting any of them answer, you drag your panties down your legs. Giving the webcam a clear view of your sopping wet cunt. You look up, directly into the camera as you begin to run a finger over your pussy lips before spreading them apart. Slowly, you push two fingers inside of yourself.
tequilasunfyre left a comment: you have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.
Feeling flustered at his words, you let out a moan uncontrollably.
“Mmm, you think so baby?” You purr as you slide your fingers in and out, picking up the pace quickly.
tequilasunfyre left a comment: oh hell yeah
You knew Aegon got around, you heard plenty of stories from Helaena… so if he was being sincere, you would gladly accept the compliment.
You couldfeel your orgasm building already, and you know it's going to be a good one. You close your eyes as the pleasure builds within you. Your fingers move even faster now, in and out of your wet pussy.
“Oh my Gods,” you moan, “I think I’m gonna cum already. Do you guys want me to cum for you?”
fleabottomfloozy left a comment: fuck yes, baby. make that tight little pussy cum
lonewolf left a comment: what he said!! ^^^
tequilasunfyre left a comment: I’m gonna cum at the thought of it, baby.
For a moment you imagine Aegon pumping his cock to the thought of you. His tip swollen and leaking pre-cum. The thought of him moaning your name nearly sends you over the edge.
You can feel your clit throbbing, and you know it won't be long now. You moan loudly, making sure to make direct eye contact with the camera as your orgasm hits you hard. Your body shakes with pleasure as wave after wave of ecstasy washes over you.
Lifting your fingers up to the camera, your arousal glistening even in the dim light of your room.
“See what you guys do to me? Ugh, so fucking sexy. I love ya! Thanks so much for watching, I’ll see you babes next time, okay? Bye bye!” You say before turning the camera off, letting out a deep sigh. That was definitely…. Something.
You don’t typically log out right away after each livestream. You usually wait and see if any of your subscribers have any other requests. Whether it be custom photos, videos or completely private sessions.
Right as you are going to log out for the evening, you hear a notification.
tequilasunfyre sent a message request
Your heart nearly bursts out of your chest at the sight of it, you accept immediately.
“Hey.” Was all the message read.
“Hey, baby!” you quickly type back, “did you enjoy the show tonight? Is there anything I can help you with?”
It takes a minute but he finally replies, “Oh yeah definitely. Ur hot as fuckkk, lol. I was wondering how much you’ll charge for a private session?”
“Depends what you want, but typically around $900-$1000.”
“I can do that. Can you get on tonight?”
You look over at the clock, 12:45 A.M. You were expecting Helaena any minute now.
“Unfortunately, no. I can’t tonight. If you’re still up for it tomorrow, I’m all yours!”
Your mind is all over the place. You should want him to decline your offer.
“It’s a date.”
What were you getting yourself into?
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valeskafics · 4 hours
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he can infodump so deep inside me I'll have trivia running down my leg
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valeskafics · 4 hours
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Ooh what versions of The Sims have you played? Like sims 2 on like the Xbox was completely different to sims 2 on the dsi
i played i think it was 2 on playstation?? and more recently 4!! 🩷
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valeskafics · 4 hours
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I...
i truly need 5-6 business days to recover from this LAURA OH MY GAWD
OBJECT OF DESIRE (4/?)
Aemond Targaryen x female!Reader
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Are you just a political ploy to Aemond? Or is there more to him rushing your wedding?
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest, p in v, table sex, handjob, fingering, slight humiliation, praise kink, breeding kink, somewhat darkish and possessive Aemond (?), he might be an asshole and the king of gaslighting in this, Valyrian wedding, mentions of blood
WORDS: 5.5 K
NOTES: part 4 is finally here! Ty @zaldritzosrose 🤍
❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭! ✨ 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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The way from the outer yard into the castle passes in a blurr with your heart thrumming in your chest, drowning out the sounds of your footsteps. It’s so deep in the night that the castle is mostly deserted, but a few guards and servants cross your path from time to time, some giving you a curious glance, others not bothering much. 
Aemond’s movements are swift and quick as he guides you through the eerily silence of the castle of Dragonstone, leading you through a labyrinth of passageways that comes close to the one you’ve conquered not many hours before. 
You try to marvel at the architecture of the ancient seat, but the dim light of sparsely placed torches and candles doesn’t allow you to indulge in it too much. 
The man in front of you is determined, and your presence seems to be not more than an accessory to him with his attention fixed on something entirely different. 
“Where do you take me?” your voice is low as you speak, the hesitance palpable.
Aemond chuckles. “Patience.” His voice is soft, but not low enough to whisper, and still manages to make you aware of how eager you probably have to sound. “We are nearly there.” 
From what you gather, the chambers he brings you to are located deep within the bowels of the castle, requiring some time and knowledge of the place to reach it. You tackle another set of corridors and narrow staircases until you eventually arrive and stand in front of a thick, wooden door. 
Knocking raptly at the door, it takes a few seconds for an older man to open it, woken from his slumber. When your eyes dart to the collar he wears, you grow aware that he led you to the maester’s study. 
The man squints his eyes in the dim light, assessing who disturbs him at this hour. “Prince Aemond,” he eventually says, more surprised than matter-of-factly, and opens his door a little further. “How may I help you?”
“Maester Gerardys,” Aemond says, a firm tone underlying his words, despite keeping his voice at a low volume. “I require your assistance in officiating a marriage ceremony.” 
Gerardys now gazes at the two of you for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly and his brow furrowing as he realizes the unusual nature of the request. “You intend to wed?” he questions. 
Nervousness flutters in your belly, more so as you process the skeptical tone laced within his voice, and you expect it all to fail miserably. But you didn’t count on Aemond’s stubbornness. 
“Yes, I do,” he affirms, his determination not faltering at the maester’s tone and gaze. “My wife-to-be and I ask you to officiate a ceremony that should take place immediately… in the traditions of our House.”
“You mean to marry at this hour, my prince?” Gerardys questions. “Well, I am no septon, and a marriage ceremony is not something that you do just on a whim. There are certain rituals involved that have to be observed. I am afraid that I cannot simply officiate a wedding on demand just because the prince asks me to…”
You tug at Aemond’s hand, mumbling a ‘perhaps ‘tis not meant to be’ but he doesn’t even turn to look at you. 
“I understand that, Maester Gerardys, I do. However, this matter is of utmost urgency. It has to be fulfilled tonight, as it can’t wait until daylight.” Aemond explains it calmly but assertively, his patience clearly running thin. There is a lilt of desperation in his voice, as if something bad will happen if the marriage ceremony is not performed at once. “We both wish for this to be done tonight. I am well-aware of the rituals involved in the tradition, and we are ready to complete them.”
It should concern you just how pressed he is on the matter, but all you can focus on is the fact that you will be a married woman in no less than two hours at last. 
Gerardys seems to be torn by the prince’s request, his brow furrowing again as he thinks over the situation. This clearly is no usual business for him, yet he does not feel as though he can refuse Aemond who insists on seeing the ceremony performed immediately. “Very well, Prince Aemond,” the old man sighs, “I will see to the arrangements.”
Despite the maester’s agreement, Aemond doesn‘t release a sigh of relief. He stands as still and composed as before, although you can spot his shoulders drop slightly. “We shall meet in the Chamber of the Painted Table,” his voice remains firm and serious. “Do not let us wait for too long.”
You briefly hear Gerardys starting to scramble to gather the items necessary for the ceremony before you’re led back the same path you’ve come. Suddenly, it feels all too serious, and your belly starts to flutter, more so as Aemond squeezes your hand. 
“I-I am not aware of the rituals involved?” you question, looking at the ground to watch your steps. 
As he notices the nervousness in your voice, Aemond turns around and smiles in a reassuring manner, his eye twinkling. “There is nothing to be concerned about,” he says. “I assume you are confident in the tongue of our ancestors?” 
You almost bump into him as he stops so abruptly, craning your neck to meet his eye. “I-yes, probably not as confident as you are, but my scholar has taught me everything within his capabilities.” 
“Very well. I shall tell you what to do, but you must trust me, my lady.” 
“Very well,” you echo his words, accompanied by a gulp. As you set up towards the spacious and opulent Chamber of the Painted Table, the room is dimly lit by several torches and candles. Servants scurry around the place, more than you’ve seen on your whole way through the dark pathways, and seem to take care of everything around you. 
Aemond’s steps bounce off the wall as he approaches a servant, and the ‘see to the table’ he commands is hardly audible to you. 
You walk around the chamber, taking in the decor, and drag your fingers over the large table standing in the center of it, following its carvings. The shadows of carved mountains and rivers dance in the dim light of the few candles standing on it, capturing all your attention. You marvel at the intricate design, but are quick to pull your fingers away when it suddenly lits up, the carvings glowing like lava running through molten rock. 
With wide eyes, you look towards the head of the table, and spot Aemond standing there with a smirk on his lips as servants emerge from under it. He leans against it with one hand splayed out on its surface, indicating that there’s no threatening heat radiating off of it. And indeed, when your fingers trail over the Vale of Arryn, you don’t burn them. 
“Are you sure this all is not going a little too fast? That we should not wait just a few more days?” you eventually ask, your doubts knocking the smirk right off of his face. 
Aemond walks around the table, coming closer to you, but keeps a fair distance. “There is no need to wait,” he retorts. “I see no reason to drag this out, unless you want to wed one of the men ordered by your father?” 
You flinch at his words, remembering the queue of men presented to you by your father. A few moments pass as you hesitantly raise your head, locking your eyes with Aemond’s good one. “Do you wish that I did?”
“No,” he replies, sternness lingering in his voice. “I do not wish that at all. I wish for the privilege of having you all to myself.”
While his words cause the hairs on the back of your neck to stand, a shiver following in their wake, you can’t suppress the doubts. ”Then why hurry?”
“Why wait?” Aemond retorts. "I have helped you obtain your dragon, your bloodright, and now it is your turn to see through on the promise made." 
"Am I a political ploy and nothing else?"
His expression darkens with your words. For the first time, the veneer of his composure and politeness towards you begins to slip slightly, his patience running thin. “I did not say that.”
Not giving him a reply, your eyes dart down to the table. You know you’re getting too bold, that you should not have said it, but you can’t help but feel as though the marriage being rushed is simply another political gambit. As your eyes flicker back up to meet his, a faint twinkle of anger and fire can be seen within them. “Do not pretend as though you are not getting anything out of this.”
“Now why are you so concerned with what I am getting out of this?” Aemond asks bluntly, voice as sharp as the edge of a knife. “Do you not trust my intentions? Or is it that you are not happy with the arrangements seeing that you’ve finally got your dragon?”
The change of tone prompts you to take a step back from him, a faint pout appearing on your lips as you feel your anger and defiance slipping away, replaced by a certain amount of apprehension. 
“Please, do not misunderstand me,” you say swiftly, softening your tone and lowering your voice to calm the situation. “I simply… I feel a little unsure of rushing into this. It is only… I have heard many tales, both from court and from my own father. Men are not known to be the most trustworthy, and I have no idea what to make out of someone so eager to wed me when I do not know his thoughts behind it.”
"You silly girl, do you not yet understand your role goes beyond the political agenda of the seven realms?" He reaches to grab you, holding your attention. "It goes beyond what your father or my father says. The gods made you for me, you have always been fated for me and me alone."
Your heart feels as though it might leap from your chest at his words. You’ve never been looked at the way he does now, never been treated that way. Your nerves and anxiety don’t vanish completely, but a part of you starts to calm down; he easily manages to put you at ease with just a few words. 
You lower your head, melting under his touch and words. “I–That is…” you trail off. 
The footsteps of Maester Gerardys approaching fill the large chamber, catching you off guard and causing you to pull away from Aemond. He’s unfazed, despite Gerardys staring at you and taking in the scene. 
Clearing his throat, he steps further into the chamber, carrying a great deal of utensils with him. “We shall commence, then?”
Aemond’s shoulders drop slightly with relief as the maester finally joins you. “By the blessings of the Gods, we shall indeed,” he says, walking around the table to the end that faces the hearth. You follow silently, and watch the older man prepare everything. 
“You stay here,” Aemond barks at two servants just shy of your age as they make their way towards the door. “We shall need every witness to our union we can get.” Both women nod their heads once, and stand rooted to the spot. 
Turning around, Aemond faces you now with Gerardys standing in front of the pair of you. The maester smiles warmly, albeit it also seems a bit forced, and glances at you as he begins with the most important question of it all. “Do you two come to this union free and willing, without prior coercion or undue influence?”
While Aemond’s answer comes quick and determined, a brief moment of silence passes as you process the question. “Yes, I do,” you speak softly yet hesitant. 
Maester Gerardys nods silently at both your confirmations, and hands Aemond what appears to be a shard of dragonglass. Your eyes widen when he brings it up to your lips, and the ‘let me just…’ he mumbles is little comfort as the sharp knife pierces your lip. You wince at the stinging pain and taste of copper that soon fills your mouth, clearly coming with the cut, but a part of you is grateful he’s done it without so much preparation. 
“Now ‘tis your turn,” he says, handing you the shard. You briefly glance down to where your hands meet, before your gaze is fixed with his again. 
The shard is lighter than anticipated, which makes the trembling of your hands more apparent. You’re skilled with a bow and arrow, but have yet to hurt anyone seriously. Bringing the shard up to Aemond’s mouth, the tremors don’t ease with you dragging it over his bottom lip. 
Blood amasses at the cut, and you mirror his gesture as he gathers yours with the pad of his thumb. The touch is so intimate, heat crawls up your spine, making you almost miss out on his next instructions. “I shall draw the glyph for blood over your forehead, and you do the same with the one for fire. Are you familiar with how to draw it?”
You nod. It’s one of the few glyphs you’re more than familiar with as Maester Lomys has always insisted for you to learn how to spell your House’s words; even though you’re only half Targaryen. 
Aemond uses your blood to draw said glyph on your forehead, and you’re quick to follow his instructions with the supplementary glyph. 
But that moment of peace doesn’t last long, not when Aemond takes the shard from your hand to cut the palm of his own without any sign of pain or discomfort to cross his features. 
You have hurt yourself plenty of times before, merely counting how often you fell off your horses as you learnt how to ride, but it has rarely happened on purpose and most definitely not with something as sharp as the dragonglass. And that is the moment you find yourself unable to move, unable to take it from his hand. 
“The pain disappears quickly,” Aemond tries to reassure you, sensing your hesitation; a stark contrast to how stern and annoyed he was mere moments ago. 
The coldness of the fragment nestles into your open palm as he places it into it, and Aemond bows his head once in a way to encourage you. 
His words bring you not much comfort, but the prospect of your future does. You have claimed a dragon, you’re meant to be the future Lady of Runestone and close to be married to the man that’s riding the largest dragon alive; there’s no place for you to think of the things that could possibly cause your downfall. 
A deep breath is exhaled the moment the dragonglass pierces the palm of your hand, opening your skin with a clean cut. The pain is delayed, and for a brief moment all that clouds your mind is the rush of your warm blood, and the sight of it so quickly filling the hollow of your palm. 
“Hen lantoti… ānogar,” Maester Gerardys cites, a thick accent and hesitance weaving itself through the otherwise smooth tongue. It makes it difficult for you to fully understand what’s being said. “Va s ȳndroti v āedroma.” Blood of two, joined as one. 
As Aemond unites your hands in a firm grip, you tilt your head up to look at him, taking him in wholly as the worst part has passed. You don’t dare to break the intense eye contact to look at where your hands meet.
The sensation of your blood trickling out of the cut has already been very adamant, but with Aemond’s blood combined, several droplets all but seep out from your joined hands, gathered in a goblet he holds underneath. 
Aemond squeezes your hand gently as the maester ties a red ribbon around them, binding you to one another and sealing the pact. 
“Mēro perzot g īhoti, el ēdroma iārza s īr. Izulī amp ā perzī, pr ūm ī lanti s ēteksi,” Gerardys mumbles in the background, but your attention is captured by Aemond bringing the goblet full of your blood up to his lips. Ghostly flame, and song of shadows. Two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires. 
He does not hesitate one moment and takes a generous sip of the goblet, crimson tinting his chiseled lips as he lowers it again and hands it to you. You capture it between your fingers, raising it to your lips and following suit. The very adamant taste of copper lingers on your tongue, and it’s hard to swallow without grimacing. A smirk tugs on the corners of Aemond’s lips at that, making you blush and mouthing ‘my apologies’ at him. 
Although the goblet is lowered by you, you two do not move otherwise. There’s a thick tension between you, fueled by you gazing longingly into each other's eyes. Neither of you smiles or grins, just taking in the moment and its significance. 
“Hen jenȳ māz īlarion, q ēlossa oz ūndesi.” A future promised in glass, the stars stand witness. 
Both of Aemond’s hands come up to cup your face, the pad of his thumb dragging gently over your nicked bottom lip. You stare at him with wide eyes and heavy breaths falling past your parted lips, every fiber of your body filled with heat that makes the waiting unbearable. And with his hands holding you, you can’t even bring your face even closer to his. 
“S ȳndroro ōñō jēdo, rȳk k īvia mazvestraksi.” The vow spoken through time, of darkness and light.
Time stretches on as Aemond slowly dips his head toward yours, finally, holding it firmly in place as his lips collide with yours. The taste of blood on your tongues and lips doesn’t seem to subside at all, very much prominent and bringing a certain tint to it all. There is no gentleness in this kiss, the passion underlined by hunger and longing for more. 
Maester Gerardys clears his throat and inevitably catches your attention again, causing you to pull back from each other. “The marriage is now complete,” he states matter-of-factly. “If you’ll excuse me now, Prince Aemond,” he bows his head once before turning to you. “Princess. I shall retire to my chambers once more.”
“You may leave, too,” Aemond commands the servants, who quickly make a beeline for the doors. Watching the master depart after that, a faint sense of relief washes over the both of you. 
As soon as the doors shut behind him, Aemond’s eye flickers back to yours. He steps toward you, closing the distance between you until you can feel the warmth of his breath fan over your skin. “Well now, little princess,” he teases. “Are you familiar with the privileges a husband expects from his wife?” 
The blood rushes to your face as you realize what he implies, your heart starting to beat faster, though you cannot deny that it has piqued your interest. Your face remains neutral, however. “Oh, what are they?” you ask, deciding upon acting more innocent than you truly are just to mess with him. 
Aemond’s lips quirk up into a slight smirk as he notices your feigned innocence. It’s obvious that you’re aware of the true nature of a marriage, but he decides upon playing this game, at least for just a bit longer. “There are many,” he says teasingly, bringing his hand to the small of your back to draw your body closer to his. “And I am certain that you’re well aware of what some of those expectations might be.”
“Hm… some,” you whisper in reply, your tone getting flustered. A smile tugs at your lips as you try to hide the growing excitement his proximity is causing inside of you. 
He’s amused by you trying to act as though you’re not tempted, as though you both don‘t desire the same thing. “Shall I tell you or show you?”
You try to keep your composure at his words, but it’s obvious they are starting to have an effect on you. “Show me,” you whisper, the words slipping out between your trembling lips. 
While one of his hands comes up to rest at the back of your neck, the other grazes over your side down to grasp at your hip, and your body melts into his touch as his lips find yours once again. The tip of his nose presses against your cheek as you tilt your head in response to his tongue dragging over the curve of your lips, silently asking you to part them for him. And you do, prompting him to deepen the kiss. 
Aemond deliberately backs you up against the Painted Table, its edge pressing firmly against your rear, and splays his hand over the small of your back. He gives you no chance to escape his lips to catch your breath; when you pull away, his lips chase yours, eager to capture them again. 
A spark of something familiar ignites in the pit of your belly, something that has you pulling back just slightly to gasp against his kiss-swollen lips. You were so lost in the kiss, that you haven’t paid any mind to him herding you like a sheep, keening at the proximity and attention.  
But Aemond doesn’t stop at that. 
The laces of your breeches are undone swiftly by him merely using one hand, clearly experienced with it being his everyday attire. He pushes the thick fabric and your undergarments down to pool around your knees, exposing your soaked cunt to the chill air of the chamber. 
You, however, don’t give his fingers time to drag through your swollen folds. Catching him off guard and coaxing a grunt to escape his throat, your hand trails over the hardness in the front of his breeches, cupping it over the fabric and squeezing it slightly, before your fingers unravel the laces just as skilled as his did yours before. 
You can tell by the way he finally breaks the kiss as your hand slips inside of his breeches, wrapping around his hard, throbbing cock, that he’s taken by surprise. He instinctively bucks his hips against your hand, and releases a gasp as the cold air hits him with you freeing his length from its confines, pulling it out and stroking it deliberately slowly. 
Aemond’s fingers dig into your hip as a means to steady himself, a breathy ‘fuck’ spilling past his lips. 
“Is this one of these… privileges?” you tease, although it’s more of a whine with two of his nimble fingers easing into your cunt without a warning, pumping in and out of you in the rhythm of your hand tugging on him. It encourages you to move your hand quicker along his shaft in hopes of him doing the same, but when that doesn’t happen, you start rocking your hips against his hand to which he just tsks in disapproval. 
His lips find the side of your neck, and you’re quick to tilt your head to the side to grant him even more access. When his hot breath fans over your skin as he speaks, words laced thickly with arousal, a shiver runs through you. “It certainly is,” he groans. There’s a wry smile on his lips as he pulls back, meeting your half-lidded gaze. “But that is not all.”
The implication of his words causes your heartbeat to quicken, your walls tightening around his fingers in response. He draws in a sharp breath at that. “And… what else is there?” you ask, breathily. “Are you just talking or will you show me?”
“My my, what an eager, little wife I got myself here,” he taunts with a scoff, bucking his hips into your hand once. Your cheeks lit up at his words and the tone of his voice, but there’s no chance for you to cower under his piercing gaze when he peels your hand off of him and turns you around; his patience seemingly not infinite.  
He pushes you flatly onto the table, the warmth radiating off of it seeping into your cheek. Towering over you with one hand buried in your hair, the length of his hard cock presses into the crevice of your arse and makes you whimper; your body aching for more. “Are you not satisfied with what I’ve shown you so far?” he mocks, his slick coated fingers trailing over your hip. 
Pushing your lips into a pout, you try to catch a glimpse of him from over your shoulder, but not without shoving your hips back against him to rile him up even more. “I just… I just wish to indulge in what my husband has to offer,” you whimper. Using that term of endearment feels unfamiliar, yet it just manages to spark more desire inside of you. 
“Oh, is that so?” he drawls. “What luck that it’s an option which lies open to you.”
He rises back to his full height, and grabs both of your hands to pin them behind your back, locking the wrists with one of his large hand and rendering you immobile. There’s no need for him to tug himself to full hardness, as just the sight of your cunt slick with your arousal is enough to get him rock hard. 
“That perfect cunt of yours is weeping for me.” You don’t have to look at him to see the smirk draped across his lips, the smugness very much prominent in the raspy drawl of his voice. 
Aligning the tip with your entrance, he’s met with little resistance, your soaked and swollen folds embracing him in one, swift thrust that knocks the air from your lungs. You moan in unison at the intrusion, your walls fluttering and clenching around him to fully accommodate his size. 
He pulls out of you almost completely with merely the tip of his cock remaining buried inside, the lack of his fullness already driving you insane. With his hand around your wrists, he proceeds to pull you back onto his cock while he thrusts his hips forward, meeting you halfway and resulting in his heavy balls slapping against your sensitive pearl. 
He pounds into you with reckless abandon in the following, the tip of his cock brushing the spot inside of you that has your vision grow blurry over and over again. 
With your face pressed against the table, you aren’t able to spot the desire blazing in his eye. The only thing that makes you aware of the excitement he finds in your unison is the tone of his husky voice. “When I am done with you,” he rasps, bowing forward to put more of his weight onto your small frame beneath his. “You will never desire another cock but mine.” 
Being in a stupor because of his cock, you’re not able to whine and whimper more than a string of yesses, the last one interrupted with a hard, percussive thrust. Then follows another, and another, until you can’t focus on anything else but the delicious pressure inside your cunt. 
You push your hips back against him, and he rears up to pull you back with each of his thrusts, meeting him halfway which results in the lewd sounds of skin slapping on skin bouncing off the walls.
The ‘gods’ he mumbles is hardly audible over both your moans and pants, but still doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You find it extremely pleasing to know that you’re able to coax him out of his composure more easily than you’ve first assumed; the highest praise he could ever give you. 
With one hand on your hip, he hoists you further onto the table, your feet leaving the cold ground beneath and dangling in the air. The edge of the table cuts into your hips in a way that slowly but surely becomes uncomfortable with the force of his thrusts, but it also ruts so perfectly against your pearl each time; juxtaposing pain and pleasure, making your mind hazy and your body go limp. 
It’s almost embarrassing how quickly your peak builds in the pit of your stomach with the right stimulation, taking over your body and rippling through you with soaring pleasure. 
Each time the sac of his stones slaps your little bud, your body tries to jerk away from him – but to no avail with your hands still pinned behind your back. Your body trembles in his grasp, and the tremors grow more and more apparent with each second he doesn’t pull out of you, prolonging your peak. 
“I shall breed you until you’re round with my seed,” Aemond rambles behind you, his own mind scrambling from pleasure. “To show everyone that you’re mine.” 
“S-Seven hells, yes!” It’s the overstimulation making yourself more desperate for his release, begging for his seed. “Please, please… please.”
Your walls tremble around him, choking him so tightly your husband has to take a deep breath to keep his composure. But all effort is fruitless when his pulsing cock spends itself inside of your quivering walls. His grunts and groans fan into the chilly air of the chamber, and you’d love nothing more than to feel them fanning over your lips instead. 
Out of instinct, you start to roll your hips against his, prolonging his own peak as you milk him for every drop of his seed. Aemond is out of breath by the time his movements come to a stop, staying buried inside of you as if he means to make sure his efforts bear fruit after the first try. And you relish in it, despite the vulnerable position it brings you in.
Releasing your wrists, his hands proceed to grope at your arse while he considers your trembling, satisfied frame. He can’t help but feel somewhat proud of himself. 
Being the first one to break the silence, you flush as you hear his raspy voice ring out. “Well, I see you were certainly eager to engage in those privileges,” he says, his voice laced with mischief. “Very eager.”
You chuckle softly, and when you move to push yourself off the table, Aemond takes that as his cue to pull out of you. Marveling at the sight of his seed slowly oozing out of your swollen cunt, he’s quick to stuff it back inside using his thumb. The gesture brings another wave of heat to your cheeks, more so when you feel his chest press flush against your back and the warmth radiating off of him with his finger still inside of you. 
Taking in a deep breath, you hold onto the table for support. “You certainly did not waste any time in… indulging either,” you reply. Not just your body is trembling with the after-effects of your intimacy, but also your voice still shakes. 
With a chuckle, Aemond dips his head down and presses a kiss to your shoulder. “We only have a few more hours before our absence is called into question by the court. We must return promptly.”
Your husband is the one fixing your attire, pulling up your smallclothes and breeches before he tugs himself back into his own. And it makes you well aware that the semblance of calm and freedom is very much over now. “They will realize where we have been anyways once they see me arriving on dragon back,” you counter with a pout on your lips. Perhaps that would coax him into staying just a little longer. 
He brings his hand up to cup your face, his thumb tugging on your bottom lip to free it from its position. “Yes, they may very well come to such a conclusion, but at least we shall preserve some of our dignity if we do return after a reasonable time. The last thing we need now is the whole court speculating on our whereabouts. It is already scandalous enough as it is.”
At his words, you let out a soft, grumbled noise of frustration, although you can’t deny that he has a point. “And what do we do then? We cannot just return to court and pretend as if nothing has happened.”
“No, I suppose not,” he replies. “We shall confront our fathers.”
Though you know your own father won’t take kindly to the news, you’re certain that your uncle won’t bat an eye upon hearing of it. Still, your demeanor shifts at hearing the notion that you’ll be facing your father, your eyes flickering with a hint of worry. “That will be just as bad as not returning to court at all.” 
Truth is, you haven’t spent a second thinking of the consequences, always pushing the thoughts aside for a later time. And with that time being now, a tiny amount of sweat appears at the back of your neck. 
“It won’t,” Aemond says firmly, his tone taking over a sudden sharpness. “At least then we shall be the ones defining our own fate. They will have no chance than to listen to us, rather than making an assumption based on hearsay.”
You exhale a deep breath. “Back to King’s Landing, then.”
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valeskafics · 5 hours
Text
OH MY GOD I FUCKING LOVED THIS DSLKFGJLSDFGLKFDSGLKSDFJGLSDKFGJLSKDJFG
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This party is boring... wanna leave?
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✧ masterlist ✧ taglist ✧
Summary: The party you are in is boring, so you ask a cute nerd guy to leave with you... that is, until you find out this is his birthday party.
✧Pairing: Michael Gavey x Fem!Reader
✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, p in v, virginity loss, oral (m receiving), overall sweet, michael being a total nerd virgin.
✧Word Count: 7.8k
✧AO3 link: here
note: so i saw this tweet in my 2020 ig histories and i said... michael gavey coded, and here we are. Here is the original tweet (wendy and joy from red velvet haha) and AGAIN this is infinite i swear i am allergic to write things under 5k
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Michael couldn’t be more excited. He looks proudly at the poster indicating the date and place of his birthday. 
Nothing too glamorous, he rented one of the halls for hire in Oxford, the same one that they used for the Christmas party that (to no one’s surprise) he wasn’t invited. But he intended to do something fun about it, with the pool table and maybe some game algebraic beer pong. Who knows? It was his birthday, so he did the rules.
And he had a few friends he could invite, of course, renting a whole hall seems…. exaggerated, but truly, he couldn’t get a pool table in his room. He paid for this only for the pool table. Besides, he liked his Norman no mates friends. Friends if you could call them that; they were as friend to him as Oliver Quick once was. Just that this once… he won’t get too attached.
Well, ‘friends’ would actually be mates from the chess club, so they weren’t exactly popular these days. They barely had a girl in the group, so they weren’t great with girls either. Besides, the only other girl that he knew had agoraphobia so… it wasn’t happening. 
His mum made some little biscuits and cupcakes for his day, since she came to have a little celebration just for him and her in a near-by cafe at college. He could skip a few classes to be with his mum on his birthday, after all. 
The night started interestingly. The space was obviously much larger than what he thought it could be, so they hung around the couch and the pool table. He felt the victory as he won two chess matches and a pool game. Maybe it was birthday luck, since everything was coming up as great.
As they talked about which opening was their favourite, Michael heard a little knock. Once he approached the crystal door, he saw Oliver with Felix by his side, with some liquor bottles. 
Michael frowned a bit, as he was pretty sure he rented the room, he did it with a lot of anticipation and made sure no one else did before him. And it was crystal clear that he didn’t invite Oliver. Sure, in their friendship, he once or twice talked about doing something about his birthday, but he never invited Oliver. 
“Hey Mikey” Oliver says, with an shit eating grin, and Michael has to roll his eyes, by how smug and prideful he looked. An absolute jerk, if you asked him. Oliver didn’t even wear his glasses anymore, and was all parties and relevancy thanks to Felix. “Come on”
Before Michael could stop them, Oliver passes by his side, as Felix follows him patting Michael’s shoulder with a smirk (he could swear it was in a patronising way) and people follow from behind as Oliver looks in the room for the music speaker of the rented room.
Michael walked as the crowd quickly dispersed, and he grabbed the few gifts he received, and looked at his distressed mates. 
“Oliver you cannot be here, I rented the room” Michael screams as the room noise is quick to appear, so different from the silence of their small reunion. 
“I saw your pamphlet” Oliver says nonchalantly as he successfully manages to get the aux cable. “Birthday, eh?” He says mockingly
“I rented it! You have to get out” He says almost screaming, as the same way he did once they met, when he asked Oliver to say a sum for him to say.
“If you can get all of us out, mate… sure” Oliver shrugs, clearly not minding.
Michael looks defeated. Even if he stands there, angry, with the few gift bags on his hands, he feels embarrassed. He wanted to do one nice thing for himself, just once. It wasn’t as cheap to rent a hall for his birthday (he couldn’t do it anywhere else, truly, but he thinks that maybe the pub would have been nice even if few of his mates didn’t drink beer)
The room fills very quickly, sitting on the couches and talking as they get vases with something to drink, or beer cans.
“Michael” two of his friends approach him, and he looks at them “We could rescue the biscuits and the cake” They say proudly as they have it in his hands. 
He couldn’t fake to look at least smug, so he nods a bit numbly. “Yeah, sure.” He says a bit disoriented, looking around “The rest left?”
“This was not a party, we assumed…” 
“Not really our thing. Though Tim and Steve stayed to see if they could get any girls” 
Michael hums, and he doesn’t know what to exactly think, since he didn’t expect this. He was organised, he liked things to be as he already planned. It made him secure, and it was only logical. But this interruption made him anxious.
“I gotta save the pool balls” He says to his friends “They are going to fine me if I lose one of them” 
“What… we do with this?” His friend asks about the food.
“Uhm… take the biscuits with you…” Michael says. “And the cake… leave it on the library next to the pool table, and hide it… please” 
As he collects the pool balls, and walks upstairs to return them, he is very downhearted. He remembers the time that he invited his friends from school and only his cousins and his neighbour appeared to his party; very embarrassing and he hated celebrating his birthday with a party ever since. It was mostly his mum and granny, with his dog and cat. Nothing else, nothing too fancy.
He comes back for the cake as he tries to explain the situation to the people that manage the rented halls, there was not much for them to do, and he is suspicious that maybe Oliver or Felix paid them to keep the room. At least they promised not to charge if anything broke, and he was happy with that.
So, money wasted, party ruined and they couldn’t even sing to him happy birthday. 
He walks from between the crowd as he steals a beer. Fuck it, it wasn’t eve stealing since they ruined his party. He takes a break, since he feels really discouraged. He knows his mates are not really social butterflies, but more leaning to being socially anxious. He might need to apologise, and even face the idea that they might be annoyed at him, and maybe they’ll kick him out from the chess team.
He drinks his beer, looking at how Oliver and Felix hyped the whole thing out, people sitting on the pool table… He hopes his cake is intact. He looks at his beer can as he move it a little to stir the liquid (he totally doesn’t want to look miserable AND like an imbecile)
“Hey” A voice calls him as he drinks from his beer. He has to look up to the prettiest girl that has ever approached him, probably. You wear a pink pleated mini skirt, with a short baby pink hoodie that he could see your bright pink bra underneath. God, it was a lot of pink in one person. 
You look at him as he blinks a bit, and you look at him with an alluring smile as if waiting for him to say something, and once he doesn’t, you continue.
“This party is kinda boring” you start saying, with a soft smile and a bright in your eyes as you look at him, doing all your best efforts to flirt with him “Do you wanna leave together?”
Michael blinks a bit as he looks at you, trying to process the words in his head but he fails. “Uh… this is my birthday party” he admits embarrassed and awkwardly, as he looks away to not face the shame, and he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose.
“Oh” you say looking at him, your smile fading a bit, a bit worried about your comment. “Oh, I’m sorry” you say, grabbing his forearm. “Didn’t mean to be rude”
“No problem” he says, looking at how your hand rests on his forehead, almost caressing it slowly. 
“I suppose you didn’t invite all these people, did you? It was kind of a last minute call” you say looking at him, actually interested in him. “You seem pretty out of place for that”
“No… It was for me and my mates” 
“Ohh…” You say looking around, and you feel a bit of pity, which he doesn’t want nor needs. “Well, I would have brought a gift.” You say, trying to cheer him up “What is your name?”
Did they send you to make fun of him? Must be.
“Michael Gavey” He says, and he refuses to look at you, not to give you or them the satisfaction.
“Michael” you repeat, and you tell him your name too. “You are cute” you add.
He blushes and looks at you as if you just insulted him, his eyes open and he frowns a bit. He turns his head away in shame.
“Thank you” he murmurs, not sure of what to think. 
“So… your birthday is today.” You say tapping your thighs a bit. “How… randomly, I didn’t know”
“I like my birthday” He murmurs, drinking his beer hesitantly “Tis’ the day of Pi” 
“Day of Pie?” You ask frowning, your arms in your back as you lean in the wall. 
“Of Pi” he repeats “Like the pi from maths”
“Ohh, the circle thing” You say nodding and smiling, as you now understand. “Why is it the day of pi..? Ohh, it is because today it’s fourteen of March”
“Yeah” He says, as he looks at his shoes a bit embarrassed. He usually would think you were stupid, who the fuck confuses Pi with Pie? But you were the only one caring enough. 
“You seem to like maths, like your.. Your shirt” you say pointing it out at his maths pun, and he becomes aware that he has been, in fact, wearing that shirt all the time. 
Fuck, did he really fought with Oliver and with the rental people with a Math pun shirt? No wonder no one took him seriously.
“Ah, yeah…” He says awkwardly. You were very much engaging in the conversation, scooping on his interests little by little. 
“Do you know that I am flirting with you, right?” You say looking at him in the eyes and he looks from his shoes to your face, a bit surprised and panicked.
“Ehm… me? What for?”
“Because you are cute, like I said” you repeat “And it is your birthday”
“You don’t have to pity me because of that…”
“I am not pitying you. It is not why I like you. Come on, do you think I am pretty at least?” You ask as you change your body weight from one foot to the other while looking at him with the most alluring smile he has ever seen. 
God, the question sounds stupid, because you are not only pretty, but you are the hottest girl ever, looking at him as he freezes in place. Your eyes could trap him, as enchanting as they were, and your diminutive clothing was driving him insane. 
“Eh… yes” he murmurs. “Very pretty…”
He seems perplexed about the straightforwardness of this whole thing, and he is very confused. Where has this night taken him?
“I meant what I said. The party… is meh. You and I could leave together, if you want” 
He blinks, as his tongue wets his lips as he suddenly feels frozen in place. His eyes look at your expression as if you were joking, and he is unsure what to think.
“Uh… well, I have to get my cake, really, m-my mates saved it on the back of the library in hopes nobody would find it..:” He starts saying, not really sure why he is telling you this.
“Okay, we’ll search it” you say without any problem about it. “I could sing happy birthday to you and you can blow the candles”
That’s how you are now following him like a puppy, as he takes out the cake from behind some decorations that weren't hiding the cake very well, but it is mostly intact. 
You two walk together, to leave and Michael thinks that never felt so ashamed. He felt like doing the shame walk, as he passed through the people with a fucking birthday cake and a pretty girl following him.
“Let’s go to your dorm!” You tell him with a happy smile, your hand on his shoulder as you lean closer to tell him that as you both walk together.
He is confused how you’ll give him a gift if they weren’t in your room, but he accepts, as his dorm isn’t actually so far away from the rented halls, so he guides you upstairs, and upstairs, at the point where he hears you whine because of your heels.
You look a bit amazed as he enters his dorm, leaving the cake on his desk and moving to turn on the bedside lamp. He looks around, and you are taking off your heels and being just in socks. He blinks as he looks at you. Doing that means she’s comfortable here, he thinks. 
“Ah, eh…. Have a seat in the…” You sit on the edge of his bed, next to his pillows and he blinks. He wanted to say ‘in the desk chair’ but he guessed it was too late.
“Your bed is comfortable” You say smiling as you pat your right side for him to sit by your side. “Come, sit!”
Michael blinks. He dries his sweat palm by rubbing his hands on his thighs a bit awkwardly, as he takes a seat on the edge of his bed by your side. Your legs were tucked under your body, already comfortable, while he is rigid and tense, all awkwardness in comparison.
“And your mates are still at the party?” You ask looking at him, batting your eyelashes at him with a sweet smile as you lean your body weight to your hand, right beside him.
“Uhm… eh, well, they told me they left, so it was a bit rushed… I don’t know, I could call them if you.. Want to sing to me happy birthday and that…” he says a bit hesitant, and he is a bit unsure of his words when you chuckle a bit, if you knew a secret “B-Because we couldn’t… I mean we didn’t have the time for that, and my mum bought that cake because it is my favourite..:” he rambles as his cheeks are pink with embarrassment.
You were divine. In more than one way, you were the prettiest girl that he had ever talked to. And you were also the first girl in his dorm. And this close to him. And the first one to be interested in him. 
“Ah, of course… I bet it is tasty, it is sweet that your mum bought it for your party” You say smiling, as you look at him “Well, I don’t think we should call them here”
“Uh… Why not? We aren’t many, we are just seven, and with you we would be a pair number, so we could play a chess match since we are a pair. If you don’t know I could teach you” He offers. God, why did he accept this? Because you were pretty and all smiles with him, but he didn’t know what women like you liked…
“It’s not that, Mikey” you say softly, looking at him with an alluring smile, leaning slightly closer to him, which is dangerous, because it is the moment he has to decide if to look at your face or your tits. “It is because I wanna give you a gift”
Michael blinks. “Oh.”
“Yeah… It would be awkward if they were here”
His mind is numb, and he looks at you a bit confused “... Because they already gave me a gift?”
You have to suppress a laugh, as you shake your head and look down a bit. He takes the opportunity to look at your tits briefly.
“No…” You say again, with that damn tone that he can’t decipher. “You are not really good at hints, are you?”
He stays silent, looking at you as he tries to get it. “Eh… no, but I am really good at maths…”
You chuckle a bit, as you look at his face with a look he (again) cannot decipher. 
“Of course you are” you say sitting slightly closer, and he stays still as he looks at you and your tits coming closer to him “Your birthday it is in the day of Pi” you made sure to say the last word correctly, emphasising on it, and he nods a bit. 
“Yeah…” he murmurs looking at you as he licks his lips, and his glasses slide ever so slightly on his nose as he has to look down at your face
“I wanna give you a gift…” you repeat, and it is now that he feels your hand slide to his thigh and closer to his crotch. And his breath freezes on his throat as he feels your hand move slowly to rub his dick from above his clothes, and the traitor practically gets hard instantly at something that isn't his own hand. 
Michael practically freezes at your touch, as your hand slowly rubs his jeans where his erection was forming. Your eyes look at him as you smile, god, you were so provocative it made his brain go off. He couldn't take his eyes out of your face as he opened his mouth to pant a bit, a bit unsure of if to stop this or make it keep going.  It is not like he doesn’t want to do… this, but a little part of him still thinks you are just mocking him and probably there were popular jerks waiting outside to make fun of him for falling for someone so out of his league. 
But you were so pretty, lookin at him with tender eyes. As he seems so hesitant about it all. It wasn’t like he didn’t want this, but he just… wasn’t sure what to do, because this was confusing all his thoughts. How could he even impress you? 
It is you who leans to capture his lips. On yours with a kiss, slow and calm, since he was so inexperienced. It was his first kiss, as a girl rubs his cock. He surely was dreaming. 
“Do you want it?”
He blinks confused, his lips briefly open and all flustered as your hands keep on hardening his cock. “Um… yes” He swallows hard as his eyes are closed due to how good (and strange) it feels. To have a girl doing this with him.
“You’ve done this before?” You ask looking at his eyes, and his glasses are sliding on his nose and he doesn’ even notice, and your hand pat his cock which makes him whimper a bit. 
“Eh… yes, but with myself. I mean, b-by myself, like with my hand, that is…”
You giggle at his naiveness, and you add “I meant if you have ever had sex”
Michael looks at you surprised, and he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose again. You were so direct, and this was unlike anything that had happened in his life. You confused him, with your plays and teases, he was more simple, and more straightforward. “No…” He whispers in reply, breathing a little heavily now as you squeeze him through his pants. 
Your smile is confusing, since he doesn’t know what it means. Well, he doesn’t get the clue to. Most things you do anyways. “It is your birthday” you repeat “My treat, I’ll make you feel so good, Mikey”
He looks down at his pants as you unbuckle his belt. There was something about you, so seductive and sensual as you did all torturously slow. You weren’t rushed, and even did it for his sake, as he looked so frozen by it all. 
You turn your head to look up to him as you also zip down his pants. He tried to think about anything else, because he felt on fire.
“Can you take these off?” You ask him kindly, and he looks. Briefly confused. “I really wanna suck you off”
Oh god. He almost cums on his pants. Oh god.  He repeats on his mind as he moves a bit to take off his pants, at least to his knees. Oh god, oh god. His mind tried to remain sane, he tried to think about some maths, the comfort of simple logic tries to centre himself. 
You look pleasantly surprised by his size, and you hummed in delight and he saw how you bite your lower lip. His cocks spring free, fully hard and the precum leaking out from the tip. He looked nervously at you, as his cock practically begged your attention and affections, and he could feel a turmoil form on his stomach as he pleaded with his eyes for you to do something about it. 
“So big…” you praise him with a smirk, and he looks away in shame as he blushes. It was a good thing, he thinks, but he cannot help but feel hesitant.
You gently grab the base as your left hand rests on his left thigh, helping you as you lean down to capture the tip on your mouth, and he leans slightly back as if trying to squirm away. He looks at you, overwhelmed at the warm and moist sensation around his cock, ever so slightly, but so intense at the same time. He pants as if he just ran a marathon, looking down at you as his balls tighten and feel so ready to cum. But he forces himself not to.
“Oh… A-Ah, fuck…” he says as you take his dick out of your mouth to lick it, from his balls to his tip. God, no one really prepares you to know how easy it is to cum when a girl sucks you off.
He tries to think of equations, some diagrams or anything, anything to not cum so fast. You have his cock again in your mouth, sucking on his tip and your tongue moves to tease him as well. He was going insane.
He looks at you, with your bright eyes full of delight and mischief looking up back at him, as his cock was deeper and deeper on your throat, making its way through your warm mouth. 
And you didn’t seem to mind how the drool was spilling out from your mouth, wettening your chin and how you gagged slightly the more deep you swallowed him. He was amazed, truly, looking down at you as you sucked him off. 
It was different from how he imagined. He thought that at his first time, he would lead the way, he would be confident (because he knew about porn and how these things worked) and he would be dominant enough. Yet now, he feels unsure, trembling as his balls shaked in need to release, because you were amazing and so hot. 
Maybe he didn’t know a thing about this all. He thinks, as his shoulders tense from how good the head of his cock feels in your warm throat. It sends shivers on his spine and he has to whimper pathetically. 
“You are so perfect…, I swear” He mumbles without breath, whimpering pathetically. You would have giggled, because he didn’t need to swear, but he was cute to do so.
You move your hand to take the hair out of his face, and you grab his right hand, and he doesnt get at first what you mean, until you let his hand on your hair, it is when he understands that you want him to guide you and move his hips. 
His own hips hesitate at the beginning , strange at how he is supposed to move without looking ridiculous or being uncomfortable. Instead, he takes your hair carefully, with both hands as he leaves a deep breath out. 
His little whimpers are amazing, and so hot, you love to hear it. It was almost quiet, very low, but it was a delight to hear how he whimpers as his cock twitches in your mouth.
He moves your hair up and down on his body, fucking your face slowly. He didn’t want to be reckless, and when you needed to, he allowed you to have air from time to time. 
His balls were on fire, and his dick was so hard and it felt so good as you deepthroated him that he was at the verge of cumming. 
“I’m… oh, I'm going to cum, m’sorry…” he whimpers, moving your head onto his cock more harshly, but still careful not to make a mess and make you choke on his cock. He would feel bad if he hurt you like that, especially when you do him a favour.
His hips hesitate as he starts cumming, and he releases your head because he guesses it could be overwhelming. But you do not back away, rather swallow all of his spending in your mouth, savouring it delighted as you looked up to him, and he opened his mouth in awe. 
You were his wettest dream come true.
What are the chances, the possibility that a pretty girl like you, just looked at him and decided to do this? To give him the best head ever? To help him lose his virginity, thinking he is worth the chance when you are out of his league? 
He is a man of mathematics and logic. And even being good at probability, he knew the chances were almost zero. Almost.
And you looked so brightly at him as you cleaned some of his cum dripping down from your chin and licking it, not to waste a bit. 
“It… it was good?”
“Yeah” you say without a breath, as you smile. “I love your dick, it is so… amazing” He can almost cum again when he sees you lick your lips.
“Oh.” He says a bit flustered, his mind almost numb from his orgasm. “T-Thank you…” 
It is your smile who makes him smile a bit, awkwardly and with his cheeks red. He cannot believe this is luck. He is dumb struck, looking at your lovely face with still red cheeks and a wide smile. And you just sucked him off.
He is guilty, and he looks down at your tits for a brief moment, but looks quickly at your face, as if ashamed of doing that. But you still have that alluring smile, looking at him. He still doesn’t get what it means, but he goes along with the flow. 
“You wanna see my tits?” You ask with a sweet tone, as if it was the normalest question ever. You have seen his eyes drop to your breasts and then to your face, it was cute.
Oh my god. He will likely cum immediately at the sight. He knows it, and his cheeks are red as he thinks of your question.
“Yeah, please…” He asks without breath, as he accommodates in bed trying for his cock not to give him away. 
“I would have worn something way cuter if I knew this was going to happen” You explain taking out your jacket, and to his no-surprise, you didn’t wear a shirt underneath, just the bright pink bra that poked out of your jacket. 
“You look beautiful” he murmurs looking at your still clothed breasts, and he then looks up to your face. “You… If this is your less fancy outfit, then god damn me” 
You giggle at his words, he surely was odd from all the guys you knew. Perhaps his lack of experience, perhaps his nerdy personality. You don’t know, but you find yourself wanting to do all filthy and kinky things with this nerdy man.
You take off your bra, with quickness, as he looks at you completely mesmerised by your nakedness in front of him. He blinks at your perky nipples completely to his sight, and his mind just goes off. He is pretty sure that if you asked him what 1 plus 1 was, he’d say a pair of fine tits.
“You can touch me, Mikey” you say with a teasing tone, that makes him look at your expression for a brief moment. “Like you can grope my tits and all…”
The boldness of her offer makes him salivate, he is sure, and the desire within him is just intense and he knows he has to. His left hand reaches out cautiously and grasps your right breast. 
Your soft sigh is enough for him to do it slightly more confidently, but still not too harsh. He doesn’t actually know how hard it hurts if someone gropes too aggressively, and so he prefers to be gentle with you, because you deserve all of it. 
“Here. Give me your other hand” You say, and before you can extend your hand to grab his, his right hand goes to your other breasts, as if he was waiting for it.
Your breath hitches before you giggle a bit, as he doesn’t understand you. His face is red, from embarrassment, from touching a girl, a very much real girl that desires him too, and from awkwardness in him.
“I meant, give me your hand” You say taking his right hand from your breast and he doesn’t wanna let go, but he does anyway. “I wanna… Mm. I wanna to show you something”
Again with coded words, he was unaware of its meaning. But he waited for you to tell him, as you looked at him with a smile as you waited for him to say it.
“Oh, uh…” Michael mutters as his brain finally took notice it was his turn to say something. “Eh… okay? Show me…” he says unsure what to say.
You guide his left hand down, under your skirt. He just noticed that you had not taken off your skirt yet, as he was still clothed and with his pants down. But he didn’t mind it so much as you pressed his hand against your clothed pussy. 
“You.. Y-You are really wet” he says slightly amazed, and you nod with a smile as he just leaves his hand there, a bit amazed as his fingers do the slightest move to spread the wetness on his fingers. You hum in delight as you feel how bold he might be becoming. 
“Yeah, I am” you nod to him with a smile, and he looks at you flustered, as he leaves an awkward chuckle. “And your cock is hard again”
He looked down at his dick, and in fact, he was getting hard again. He looked back at you, and he smiled a bit embarrassed. You were also smiling, and that was the only clue he got to know that you were having the time of your life.
“It’s because you are so hot…” he says in a weak attempt to justify himself. “and so pretty”
You laugh, as you kneel slightly to take off your skirt and kick it somewhere in his bedroom. You were only wearing your panties now, and he felt like a salivating dog wagging his tail at the sight. God he was pathetic.
He looked at you, and before he could try to do anything, you say.
“It will be better if you sit properly in the bed, not the edge. So you can lean back in the pillows”
He has no idea why he should lean back in the pillows, but again, he is not the one doing demands in this. In his eyes, you are doing him a favour, this was his wettest dream, and you surely got nothing from it.
He takes off his pants and he crawls to sit in the bed, his back against the pillows (he used at least three, he found it more comfortable) and so he watched at you with a smile, as you kneel up again, now to take off your panties.
“I swear that if i knew, I would have worn a prettier pair of underwear” you start teasingly, as you move your hands to the sides of your panties to take them off.
Oh god, he thinks once again, as the image of a naked woman is enough to send him into numbness again. He was just gaining confidence to take some part in this, but he was just so inexperienced, he had to decide on either cum desperately or trying to last longer, and he didn’t know that the last took all of his brain energy.
“Here” You say, grabbing his hand and leaving your panties in his hand. He looks at you, and you add “Another gift. You can keep it” 
He looks at you, slightly amazed by it. He holds your panties in his hand, and he can feel the wetness of it, knowing that you were (and are) so wet right now drives him insane. He looks at you and he blinks a bit surprised, and honestly, much more aroused. 
“Thank you..” he says as he appreciates this odd gift. He has no idea what use it may have apart from the sentimental one, but maybe it is like his own trophy? 
You get comfortable, still kneeling on the bed, you crawl to be atop of his lap. Each knee on the side of his thighs, and he has to look up to see you. Maybe his favourite part about this is how your tits are in front of his face. He loves it.
“Your hand” She asks, and when she extends her hand he is clever enough not to make the same mistake twice. He passes her his hand, and she guides it to her pussy once again.
Now he knows. Why men went to war for women. Why Troy was destroyed, for stealing one woman. Why men went insane for the touch of a woman. He gets it now. 
Your pussy drips wet as he touches it; bare and warm. He is surprised, in all honesty, as his fingers are rigidly moving forward and back. It is not rough; but it is rigid enough to let know his inexperience in the matter.
“I wanna make you feel good” He says looking at you, almost begging for you to teach him how. He wants to know the secrets that could have you squirm and moan crazily over him, as he was over you. 
“This is about you” You say, your hands moving to the edge of his shirt, to take it off from him. He helps you in it, and he leaves a breath as now both of you were naked in front of each other.
Your soft hand caresses his chest. He is no muscular guy; yet you caress him so tenderly that he has to look at you with that puppy look. He really wants to make you feel good.
“Tell me what to do.” He asks again, he looks pathetically needy to you; eager to make you cum on his fingers, and eager to learn how to please you.  His fingers linger hesitantly around your pussy, and he does his best guiding himself from little experience and instinct. 
You smirk as you bite your lower lip as you let a little whimper out. He was cute and hot, more than most guys you knew from before. Maybe getting with the nerd was a fantastic idea.
“I want you to fuck me” You say instead, smiling at him “I want your cock, not your fingers- for now. Besides, this is about you. You are the birthday boy”
As your hips lower on his lap, he takes off his fingers and looks at you sitting above his cock. You grind slightly as he opens his mouth agape slightly, the mere thought of fucking you has him all excited, and aroused.
“I do wanna.. Do that” Michael says with a longing smile, as you nod to him. The feeling of your pussy rubbing against his own dick. He can’t take it anymore, he longs for you too much. 
He is clumsy as he moves his hips, the head of his cock passing eagerly through your folds in search of your entrance, and he looks up at you as you moan at the feeling. He got something right. 
His puppy eyes catch your attention as his tip presses on your centre, and you look down at him a bit breathlessly. “You can’t cum so fast, Mikey. I want you to enjoy it” He nods when you tell him that, and he leaves a shaky breath at the feeling. 
“I… I’ll try…” He says looking at you, trying his best to hold back. But your body is too tempting for him. He is going to pass out, surely.
You move to search for something in your clothes, and you take a condom from somewhere. He isn’t too sure. He is looking at the ceiling waiting for you as he thinks on some hard equation from class, and he tries for the burning turmoil on his belly, full of lust and desire to calm down even a bit. He wants to have you moaning on his cock so hard, he will need strength.
Your movement is fluid when you put the condom on his length, and he is sure you have done this so many times. On other occasions, he’ll think something witty about it, but now he is rather intimidated. How is he supposed to compete with your experiences?
You move your hips slightly, as you start to sit down on his cock from one move. Slow and soft, he is sure you make sure it isn’t so intense for him, as your walls have a tight grip on his hard cock, and the feeling of finally being inside of a woman is incredibly intimate. His cock pulsates on your insides, and he has to look down, enjoying the sight of his thick cock stretching your pussy.
“Fuck…” You say breathlessly as you throw your head back, moaning in delight as you move your hips slightly.
“You’re so warm… and thigh..” he pants, his hands go to your hips as you ride him. 
“It feels nice?”
“More than that” He says looking up to you, and he whimpers as you move your hips. 
“I’ll let you get used to it.” You tell him softly “I think it could be a bit overwhelming, I guess”
“Yeah. A bit” he says with an awkward smile which makes you smile too, and you grab his cheeks as you lean a bit to kiss him softly. 
His enthusiasm is endearing, as he tries to passionately kiss you, but you are sticking with the slowness of it all. He whimpers a bit on your mouth as he can feel how your cunt tightens around him. 
Once you are apart, his glasses are again slowly sliding down on the bridge of his nose and you bite your lower lip as you hold a moan. God, what a hot nerd you are fucking.
“You are so amazing” He murmurs, looking up to you “And you feel so good…”
“Uh huh…” You hum as you whimper a bit, and so does he. 
“And I have… I have never done this before…” He mutters looking at where your pussy swallows his dick.
“I know” You say, giving him a peck. “But you make me so aroused, so hot…”
Michael blinks a bit confused, but he gains slight confidence in this. He nods at you and he lets his hands fall by the side of your legs, and he can only focus on the way that you ride him. You squeeze him, in all the way he can think of. Your cunt is squeezing his shaft. Your knees are squeezing his legs. All of your existence squeezes him, and he loves the feeling. 
He looks up at your face, you are moaning openly and you have your eyes closed as your hands rest on his biceps, helping you bounce on his cock. You look amazing. 
And your tits, God, your tits. Bouncing on his face as you ride him, all perky and perfect for him, and the sight of your tits make him leak more precum in the condom, as he tilts his hips slightly up so he gets deeper in the warmth of your cunt.
He stays looking at you, while his balls are tightening at how wet your pussy is. He is mesmerised by you, he cannot even find himself letting any sound out of his mouth. He is almost numb, looking at you as he makes you moan like this. 
He is making you moan desperately as you ride him. He is the one responsible to see how aroused he truly has you. You lean your body closer to his chest, moaning as you ride him, and he bites his lip desperate to cum. 
His own hips rut back to yours, thrusting clumsily as you sink down on his cock. Your pussy clenches around his cock, and he’s fully engrossed in the sensation.
Michael wants to cum so bad. He doesn’t think he has ever been in such a need to cum.It’s all his foggy mind can think of, cumming and you. And cumming in you, those two subjects interrelationate. 
“Tell me” He pleads, which makes you look at him again “Please, tell me how to make you cum”
His puppy eyes, how his glasses are slightly off on him, makes you moan almost on his face. 
“Your hand” You say, and he got the clue now. He is a quick learner, and instead of letting you hold his hand, he moves it down to your pussy. 
You moan at the feeling of his hesitant hand there, and he laughs a bit breathlessly, growing slightly bolder and he loves how desperate you seem. “Teach me”
“Fine, fine, wait..” You say stopping your movements, as reluctant you both may be to that.
You lean slightly back, your hand goes to grab his knee to help you not fall. He can see more of your pussy like that, and you sigh as if trying to think clearly.
“Here” You say, grabbing his wrist and moving it slightly up. He has no idea what you mean, but he is learning, so he follows your lead. “This is my clit, so you rub it… Not harshly, not too aggressive. It can be intense, but… you have to do it gently. Firm, but gently” 
He has no idea how to do both, but he’ll try. Before he can start, you grab his wrist again, and he is confused. What else is there that you take so long to say?!
You take his hand up, and your mouth is quick to engulf his index and middle finger inside, wettening them  with your own saliva before letting them go; not without leaving a provocative lick beforehand. 
“Now” You say with a slight smile “Just gently.” You repeat, and he nods.
He is so going to cum just from seeing you lick his fingers so lustfully. 
Michael tries his best, he does. His fingers find the little thing, so small, and he is unsure what response something so tiny could do. But anyways, he does as told. His fingers hesitate before rubbing slightly there, left to right at the beginning, and then up and down.
“F-Fuck!” You say almost closing your legs around his hand and dick, but you force yourself to remain open. Your other hand goes to hold you onto the mattress of the bed, so you don’t fall. You are leaning backwards now, and he can see your body in all it’s glory. 
It does have an amazing effect, he realises, as he rubs circles on your clit and you moan even higher, your legs tremble as you force them open, and you start lowering on his cock again. Unlike the last time, you don’t take the time to make sure his cock enters and comes out fully, but you just grind against it, and when you move up and down, it is barely just in the base of his cock. But the tip? It never leaves your wetness.
He wishes he could see the bump of his cock on your belly. He looks at your abdomen, and he can practically imagine how the shape of his cock would poke out from your abdomen.  
“I want to cum” He says, panting as his brain is overwhelmed. He is overdoing things, he tries to rationalise this, but between rubbing your clit, your cunt wrapping around his cock and his moans leaving his mouth, he feels like he will pass out any moment now.
“M-Me too” You whine, desperate as your hips rut more desperate on his cock, and that turns him even more. 
He has made a girl desperate for him. And he’ll make a girl cum on his cock.
Michael makes sure to rub your clit in a delicious manner. Or what he guesses is a delicious manner. And since you almost sob your moans, he’d say he is doing a fucking amazing job. 
“FUCK” He says as he feels your cunt squeeze him so much, that his mind practically goes blank “I-I’m cumming” He barely gets the words out as he feels himself spent on the condom inside.
He moans, loudly, it could be embarrassing if it wasn’t so pleasurable, and he has to throw his head back from the pleasure on how his shoulders tense up.
You grab his wrist, and he gets the clue that he has to keep his touch on your clit. Your cheeks are red from stimulation, and as he pants and whimpers from his orgasm, as he rubs your clit. It doesn’t take long, as you practically cum all over his cock, milking his dick and making sure his balls go empty. 
Even if he orgasmed first, your peak leaves him dry, and spent in more than one way. He doesn’t think he will ever hear a girl moan so loud and pleased as you when you cum thanks to him. 
When you fall to his side, he takes off the condom, leaving it on his bedside table. He looks at you, panting hard on his side, and he feels the same, as he looks at you, still mesmerised by you. 
He searches for your hand, awkwardly, and he moves you slightly closer to him. 
You both remain breathlessly, pants as you two face the ceiling. 
“So” You start saying, and he turns his head to yours, and you have another of your mischievous, alluring smiles on your face. “Have you blown the candles?”
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168 notes · View notes
valeskafics · 5 hours
Text
OH-
this was so bittersweet, morgan, i absolutely loved it - their relationship, her patching him up and being vulnerable with each other...
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IM IN LOVE
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Stay with me
Rafe Cameron x fem reader
Your boyfriend shows up at your door after another fight with his father.
Warnings! Talks of violence! Season 1 rafe. I’d fight ward with my bare hands for my baby. Angst to fluff! Good ending! W.C 1k just a blurb. Couple is just for aesthetic.
The last thing you expected at 3am was to see your boyfriend Rafe showing up at your door with rageful tears streaming down his pretty face. His prominent cheekbones sunken in from apparent lack of meals as he stood outside on your porch. You immediately ushered him in, reaching to touch him before hesitating when he flinched away.
He stumbles onto your couch and your hand falters to your side as you finally notice the bruises and small cuts forming on his knuckles. “Rafey…what happened?” You quietly ask him as he buries his face in his hands.
He doesn’t answer right away as if weighing his options and you wait for him, slowly approaching him with your socks silently padding the floor as you stand in front of him with a relaxed, non threatening stance.
“I got into an argument.” He says between gritted teeth. “A fight. Well-“ his fingers fly to his hair and he pulls a little. “I got into a fight with my fucking dad. It got bad.” He admits and you immediately feel anger percolating in your gut.
You hated his father. He was an asshole. But you kept quiet, not wanting Rafe to stop opening up to you.
“He hit me. Smacked me around.” He flexes his jaw and leans back on the seat. “I ended up taking it out on my wall and he told me to leave for the night. ‘Cool off’” he says in quotations.
You shake your head in disbelief as you listen before storming towards the door, hastily looking for your car keys inside your purse hanging on the wall.
“Whoa whoa, where are you going?” You hear him say and stand.
“I’m going to fucking deal with him,” you growl but then your purse is yanked out of your grasp and he holds it away from you. “Rafe. Give it to me.” You hold out your hand and he shakes his head.
“Absolutely not. You’re not going over there because of me.”
“Because of you? You’re my fucking boyfriend and he hurt you. I won’t let him get away with it.” You try to reach for your bag but Rafe pulls it away from you and sets it on the other chair.
His hands move to your shoulders. “No. I won’t let you get hurt because of me.” His touch is gentle but firm as you stare into his blue eyes. “I’m used to this. I’m used to him. But I didn’t have anywhere to go. I didn’t have anyone else I wanted to see.” His tone doesn’t leave room for argument but you’re not going to easily give in.
“Rafe this is unacceptable. He can’t keep doing this to you. This isn’t the first time, is it? I see how you are around him. I see how tense you get-“
“He’s not your problem.” He replies and you scoff.
“Of course he is! If it’s your problem-“
“No! I said no! You’re not going to take on my problems. Baby girl, please. Just stay here with me. I need you to stay. Don’t leave me.” His inflection turns into a plea and you still. He’s never sounded like that before. Desperate for you to remain by his side. He usually had the tough guy act. Determined to pretend he had no weaknesses.
Your hands go to settle on his waist, “I’d never leave you, baby. I’ll be here as long as you want.” You offer and Rafe pulls you into his arms. His hug crushing as his fingers gently stroke the bare skin as he reaches underneath your shirt. “I’ve got you, Rafe. I’m right here.” You whisper against his shoulder and he buries his head in your neck.
You both stay that way for a few minutes, just holding each other as the rain starts falling outside and onto the windows of your apartment. You pull back and see tears beginning to shed from his eyes and you reach up. You softly wipe one away. “It’s okay. Come on. Let me clean you up…” You take him by his wrist and start to guide him to your bathroom.
You turn on the light and sit him down. You dig into your sink drawer and find your first aid kit. “There we go.” You mutter to yourself and extend your palm. “Let me see your knuckles.”
You attend to his wounded skin, dapping it with saline and he winces. “I’m sorry, baby. It’ll just be a second. Gotta clean this up.” You trail off in a whisper as you concentrate and take a cotton bud. You collect cream onto it and gently spread them over his injury.
“You’re good at this.” Rafe speaks and keeps his eyes on you as you pull out a wrap around bandage.
You smile bitterly. “I’ve had my fair share of fights, Rafe.” You go to decorate his fist with the dressing but he stops you with a shocked expression.
“What?”
You shake your head. “This isn’t about me-”
“No, tell me.” Rafe interrupts and pulls his hand back. You sigh and lean against the sink counter. You hold up your hand.
“See these?” He focuses harder and notices the scars on your own knuckles. “I’ve lost count on walls I’ve hit out of rage. I understand, baby. My parents were shit too. That’s why I hate Ward so much. I hate seeing what he puts you through because I’ve been there. And I’d never want you to feel the way I have.” You choke on your words and Rafe pulls you onto his lap, making you straddle him.
“I’d never let anyone hurt you, baby girl. You’re mine. I’d kill anyone who looks at you wrong or ever puts their hands on you.” He growls before wrapping his arms around you.
You chuckle and your fingers stroke his hair, your legs on either side of him while he holds you. Rafe treated you like glass. Always wanting to keep you safe and hidden from everyone. Only because he wanted to shield you from experiencing what he went through. You were his little doll.
“We’ll protect each other, deal? You can stay here. However long you want. I’m yours.” You pull back and cup his face, pressing your foreheads together. “I love you, Rafe.”
“I love you too, baby doll. Nothings ever keeping me from you. Least of all my shit dad.” He breathes, warm air hitting your lips and you smile warmly.
“Now, let me finish that hand.”
Tagging @xxbimbobunnyxx @marchsfreakshow @slvt4jamesmarch @drewstarkeyslut @drudyslut @redhead1180 @rafescurtainbangz @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @gri959 @impmunson @voyeurmunson @rafesthroatbaby
54 notes · View notes
valeskafics · 5 hours
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wip update! italicized means i'm currently working on it ✨
you can also check what is likely coming next here! 🩷
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Works In Progress
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Italics indicate I am actively working on/outlining this fic 🩷
Current Count: 69 Requests, 14 Non-Requests
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Billy The Kid
-Billy x Reader found family
-Billy x Modern!Reader
-Billy x Saloon Girl!Reader
-Billy x Older!Reader
-Billy x Reader x Jesse
Dune
-Feyd x Reader arranged marriage with someone as psychotic as him who has concubines and takes over Giedi Prime
-Feyd x Atreides!Reader who betrays her family
-Feyd x Atreides!Reader who uses the Voice on him + has dreamed about him + free use
-Feyd x Bene Gesserit!Reader from a hidden family and survives poisoning
-Feyd x Bounty Hunter!Reader
-Feyd x Princess!Reader who is married to Paul
-Feyd x Rabban's Wife!Reader who is the only one who was kind to him
-Feyd x Wife!Reader who gets along with his Harpies and is attacked
-Feyd x Wife!Reader who is pregnant and runs away because the Baron threatens her
-Paul x Reader arranged marriage + enemies to lovers
-Paul x Reader skinny dipping on Caladan + pussy eating
-Paul x Princess!Reader who saves him
Euphoria
-Nate x Girlfriend!Reader jacking off to her picture while he's away
-Nate x Girlfriend!Reader somno
-Toxic Boyfriend Nate HC's
Gotham
-Jerome x Bimbo Cheerleader!Reader
-Stepbro!Jerome x Reader
High Life
-Ettore x Reader innocence kink before jail + framing her
House of the Dragon
-Aegon x Targaryen Aunt!Reader
Aemond x Reader wedding night smut
-Modern!Aemond x Reader where he thinks she likes Aegon and he's a virgin
-Modern!Aemond x Diabetic!Reader
-Modern!Aemond x Stepsister!Reader on vacation, he eats it from behind
-Cregan x Reader where he returns from war and marries her
-Stepdad!Daemon x Reader
-Helaena x Aegon’s Lover!Reader
-Modern!Helaena x Nude Model!Reader
-Dark Twin!Jace x Reader
-Aemond x Targ!Reader x Cregan
-Toxic!Aegon, Toxic!Aemond, Toxic!Jace HC's
Masters Of The Air
Gale x Reader wedding night
Gale x French Nurse!Reader
One Piece Live Action
-Sanji x Reader sharing a cig + uncovering his erogenous zone
Outer Banks
-JJ x Reader x Rafe
Saltburn
-Felix x Reader post date car smut almost caught
-Michael x Reader breaking his concentration while he works
-Michael x Bimbo!Reader pegging
-Michael x Bimbo!Reader trying BDSM
-Girldad!Michael x Reader
-Obsessive Dom!Oliver x Bimbo!Reader babytrapping + breeding kink + manipulation
-Michael x Reader x Oliver
Star Wars
-Stepbro!Anakin x Reader
The Ballad Of Songbirds And Snakes
-Coryo x Tribute!Reader
-Dad!Coryo x Reader fluff
The Boys
-Black Noir x Bimbo Girlfriend!Reader + breeding kink
-Homelander x Bimbo Supe!Reader brat taming
-Homelander x Single Mom!Reader
-Stalker!Homelander x Reader he saves from a bank robbery
-Soldier Boy x Reader pussy slapping + daddy/breeding kink + hair pulling
The Last Kingdom
-Osferth x Sihtric's Sister!Reader
-Osferth x Brothel!Reader x Sihtric
The Summer I Turned Pretty
-Conrad x Reader cooking together
-Conrad x Reader enemies to lovers where she’s Jere’s bff
-Stepbro!Conrad x Reader
Top Gun: Maverick
-Jake x Bimbo!Reader
-Himbo!Jake x Reader
World on Fire
-Stalker!Tom x Bimbo!Reader
Multiple
-Aemond x Reader x Billy Washington
-Billy Washington x Reader x Ettore
-Ettore x Reader x Tom Bennett
-Michael Gavey x Reader x Modern!Tom Bennett
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Bridgerton
-Benedict x Best Friend!Reader
-Colin x Italian!Reader
House of the Dragon
-Aemond x Reader K3G AU
-Aemond x Reader Lion King 2 AU
-Aemond x Reader Spidey/Carnage AU
-Daemon x Witch!Reader
-Jace x Reader KKHH AU
Aegon/Aemond/Jace x Reader TSITP AU
Cregan/Reader/Daemon
Outer Banks
-JJ x Cameron!Reader
-JJ NSFW Alphabet
-John B NSFW Alphabet
Multiple
-Abraham x Reader x Tom Bennett
-Billy Taylor x Reader x Billy Washington
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160 notes · View notes
valeskafics · 5 hours
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I gotta know, do you play video games? If so, what kind?
i don't play as much as i used to BUT i love jedi: fallen order, call of duty, and i used to play a lot of GTA!
i also like spyro the dragon and the sims lmfao 😭
3 notes · View notes
valeskafics · 5 hours
Note
Ussssssssy
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USSY
3 notes · View notes
valeskafics · 5 hours
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Imagine Feyd being obsessed with Rabban's wife because she was probably the only one genuinely kind to him when he was growing up. I could see Feyd constantly humiliating his brother in an effort to prove himself to reader and make himself appear as the more worthy partner.
i'm currently working on a feyd x rabban's wife!reader fic and let me tell you... kiss or die is definitely going to have the vibe you mentioend 🤭🩷
72 notes · View notes
valeskafics · 5 hours
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Hi! So I've finally seen Dune Part 2 and I loved it (especially Feyd) so much! I really liked how they pointed out that Feyd was sexually vulnerable so I was wondering if you could write a smut based on that? Maybe Feyd starts off rough but the readers being really gentle with him that it confuses him a bit because he didn't think he deserved soft touches?
hi my love! i incorporated some aspects of this here, i hope you enjoy!! 🩷
8 notes · View notes
valeskafics · 5 hours
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Hey Vales
Don’t know if you take any requested. But in HIGH AS A KITE for FEYD RAUTHA 😍❤️
Can I put in a request pretty please. 🙏
Reader is Paul Twin sister and the jewel of House Atreides( aka Daddy’s little girl)
Reader needs to get married for the betterment of her House but would only marry if any men who seeks her hand in marriage could beat her in a fight( she’s a really strong fighter one of the best on Chaladan)…. Somehow Feyd Rautha has found out and felt offended that he was not given an invitation to join the fighting for the Lady’s hand in marriage and decided to invite himself. …All the while hiding his true identity. After her bested the reader he is revealed to be Harkonnen
Feyd and Reader is secretly inlove and this was just some way to get them to marry
You can do with this what ever you want to
Oh and Some Smuttyness with this please 🙏
hello my love!! i changed some aspects of this but HERE it is - hope you like it 🩷🩷🩷🩷
4 notes · View notes
valeskafics · 5 hours
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reblog bc updated w/ "combat" 🩷
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Dune Masterlist
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💕 = personal favorite
✨ = top performing
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Feyd Rautha
Alleviating Your Pain - Feyd x Wife!Reader ✨ Though your marriage is arranged, you and Feyd don't take issue with being intimate with each other. So he's quite surprised when you turn him away only three weeks into your union.
Combat - Feyd x Princess!Reader When he is excluded from a competition to win your hand, Feyd decides he will not let something so insignificant as an invitation stop him.
Dance For Me - Feyd x Reader Feyd adds a new concubine to his menagerie after the Harkonnen colonize Chusuk. However, you have a talent that the others do not.
Fated - Feyd x Atreides!Reader ✨💕 When Feyd finally claims his bride, you learn of a rather strange Harkonnen wedding ritual.
From The First Moment - Feyd x Atreides!Reader 💕 From the first moment he saw you, Feyd has been drawn to you, your kindness forever cementing your place in his heart. When your betrothal is shockingly annulled, Feyd decides he'll do whatever is necessary to have you back by his side.
Heat - Alpha!Feyd x Omega Niece!Reader You return to your family after completing your Bene Gesserit training.
Nothing Compares To You - Feyd x Wife!Reader Things change between you and Feyd when he learns of an attempt on your life.
Princess - Feyd x Reader ✨ Feyd Rautha makes it his mission to seduce you, the innocent younger sister of Princess Irulan.
Runaway Bride - Feyd x Atreides!Reader When you escape your husband, he follows you, vowing that he will always find you.
Sparring Session - Feyd x Wife!Reader You and Feyd decide to spar to settle a disagreement.
The One - Feyd x Atreides!Reader ✨ Centuries of the Bene Gesserit's machinations lead to the union of Feyd Rautha and yourself, the daughter of Lady Jessica and Duke Leto.
Tolerance Or Desire - Feyd x Bene Gesserit!Reader 💕 You go to Giedi Prime to test na-Baron Feyd Rautha.
Paul Atreides
Dreaming Of You - Paul x Reader ✨ Paul meets the girl of his dreams. The only surprise is that she's not a stranger to him.
Fantasy Come True - Paul x Harkonnen!Reader 💕 Generations of enmity come to an end when you, the only niece of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, and Paul Atreides, the son of Duke Leto and Lady Jessica, are wed to each other.
Multiple
To The Winner Go The Spoils - Feyd x Reader x Paul 💕 The task is simple. Whoever wins the battle weds the princess. But you come up with a better solution.
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Feyd Rautha
Between Us - Feyd x Wife!Reader Feyd gives you a gift that you won't soon forget, proving nothing will come between the two of you.
Cherish - Feyd x Wife!Reader Feyd wishes to spend a while longer in bed with you, cherishing your time alone.
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Feyd Rautha NSFW Alphabet
Paul Atreides NSFW Alphabet
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586 notes · View notes
valeskafics · 5 hours
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"Combat" - Feyd Rautha x Princess!Reader
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a/n: grouped a few anon requests together along with one from @the-shadow-queen02 🩷
Summary: When he is excluded from a competition to win your hand, Feyd decides he will not let something so insignificant as an invitation stop him.
TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, fighting, mentions of scars, feyd's black cum, fluff, handjob, p in v sex, inkpie
Word Count: 2,300
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dune characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
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For most of Feyd Rautha’s young life, his uncle has been planning and plotting to secure a match between him and either the Princess Irulan or you, her older sister. You are, of course, the more desirable match of the two. If Feyd marries you, he becomes Emperor upon your father’s passing.
However, when the Baron suggests such a match to your father, he is quickly rebuffed. Your father proclaims that you will marry if and when you so choose. It is unheard of, truth be told, but then again? You always were the Emperor’s little darling. Many say if the man has a weakness, it is you. His fearsome first-born. While Irulan was trained in the way of the Bene Gesserit, you chose an alternate path. From what Feyd has heard of you, you are a legendary warrior in your own right. You have trained with your father’s Sardaukar soldiers from your early childhood, and have grown into a fearsome fighter. Your father has even sent you to put down rebellions in far-reaching systems - ones where he was confident that you would not get hurt.
Feyd always finds himself looking forward to news of you. You fascinate him. A woman who finds joy in fighting and training is a woman after his own heart. So, he allows his uncle’s aspirations to take root, convincing himself that being paired off with you is not only inevitable, but something to look forward to. He has seen portraits of you, of course. Your fighting prowess is only outmatched by your beauty. It makes him all the more eager for when the day of your union finally comes.
When the time finally comes and you decide that you are willing to get married, it is announced to members of the Imperium that you will only wed a man who can best you in combat. This is the only way you can deem them worthy of being your husband. The idea of a tournament of sorts, one where you are the champion, is exciting to Feyd, and he finds himself eagerly awaiting for his invitation to arrive, training vigorously, knowing that there is no way the Emperor will neglect one of his most loyal vassal Houses.
And yet he does. Perhaps it is a mistake that Feyd is not invited. That has to be it, right? After all, House Harkonnen is in good standing with the Emperor. It makes no sense for Feyd not to be invited. At least, that’s what he tries to tell himself. His uncle takes it as an insult, of course, stating that he would not have wanted his line to mix with that of the weakling Emperor anyway. Feyd knows that is a blatant lie.
Not one to be deterred, he continues training, doing his best to improve his skill in anticipation of fighting you. After all, he is a man who gets what he wants. And the only woman he wants, the only woman who could ever satisfy him is you.
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Feyd arrives in disguise the morning of the tournament, admiring you from afar as you train with the Sardaukar soldiers. You are every bit as beautiful as your pictures. And your fighting skill is unparalleled. He has never seen anyone move with such lethal grace, such precision. It is more like you are dancing than fighting, easily avoiding being hit and instead managing to land your fair share of palpable hits. You are just as impressive as he dreamed you would be.
As if sensing his gaze on you, you turn to face him. Your hair falls in your face as you move to stand, a smirk playing on your lips as you walk over to him.
“A masked contender?” You ask, your voice a playful lilt as you begin circling him.
Feyd chuckles, “Yes, Princess. Is that a problem?”
“Not a problem,” you hum, stopping in front of him, your eyes moving up and down his form appraisingly as you twirl your blade deftly between your fingertips, his gaze drawn to the sight, “I just usually like seeing the faces of the men I manage to put on their backs.”
“Perhaps this man will put you on yours, Princess.”
You laugh, and the sound is almost musical to him as you saunter away, the natural sway of your hips all but entrancing him, “You’re a funny one, my mysterious masked friend. It’ll be fun knocking you to the ground. I like them cocky.”
“Then you’re going to love me.”
You glance back at him over your shoulder, giving him one last amused smile before disappearing from sight.
Feyd has never thought of himself as a romantic. Not once in his life. But everything changed the moment he saw you. Now, he’s consumed by thoughts of you, of holding you in his arms, kissing you, having you all to himself. His princess. His fearsome warrior princess.
The tournament begins in earnest and Feyd watches with a grin on his face as you defeat your opponents one by one. He sees some of the most fearsome fighters in the known universe go toe to toe with you and be defeated with ease. You are formidable, for lack of a better word. He has never seen anyone fight like you, not even back on Giedi Prime. He can’t even begin to imagine what you’ll be like in the bedchamber, what fire you might bring there.
He watches as you manage to take down Paul Atreides with only a few well-timed hits, tiring him out, grinning victoriously as you raise your first in the air to the cheers of all those present on Corrino. The applause is thunderous, shaking the ground as you yell out, asking if there is any other man present who dares challenge you. Feyd walks toward the arena, passing the Atreides boy as the latter is leaving. The younger man gives him a grimace, rubbing his shoulder.
“Good luck to you, friend,” he mumbles, “That isn’t a woman. That’s a hellbeast.”
Despite having no good feelings toward the boy or his house, Feyd cracks a smile and chuckles slightly at his words, pitying him. After all, the future Duke has just been humiliated. One has to feel somewhat bad for him.
Feyd strides onto the combat field, his face still concealed by his mask. You smirk at him.
“My masked friend. Select your weapon of choice and we shall begin.”
He grabs a blade, not dissimilar from yours, checking its balance before nodding to himself and turning to face you, “May thy knife chip and shatter.”
You let out a quiet laugh before nodding, “May thy knife chip and shatter, friend.”
The two of you circle each other, your blade held in front of your face as you anticipate his movements. But Feyd knows he is unlike any other opponent you have gone up against. Your eyes go wide at how quickly he lunges at you, nearly managing to tackle you to the ground. You manage to dodge his advance in the nick of time. He can tell you found it too close for comfort. And before you can right yourself, he lunges again, this time managing to throw you off balance, smirking to himself as you stumble, catching yourself.
“Not bad,” you compliment, standing again, launching yourself at him, your blade clashing against his in a desperate attempt to regain your dominance, “What planet do you come from, my masked friend?”
Feyd does not answer, instead lunging at you once more, his body pinning yours to the ground. You stare up at him, your eyes wide as you grapple with him, doing your best to use your hips to push him off of you. But he is relentless. And eventually, you begin to tire.
And, to everyone’s surprise, the warrior princess yields. You stare up at Feyd, breathlessly voicing your defeat.
“I yield.” The two of you gaze into each other’s eyes for a long moment, the silence in the arena deafening as you question, your voice uncharacteristically soft, “And might I finally learn the identity of my champion? My husband?”
He smirks at your words and removes his mask, unveiling himself as na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. And you do not shy away. You simply reach a hand out to caress his cheek. He has never been touched like this before. So gently, with so much care. Your hands are calloused, much as his are, your arms littered with scrapes and bruises from your endeavors. And each one of them is beautiful. He thinks he could spend eternity trying to count them, to place a kiss to every single one.
“Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you murmur, “My husband.”
“My princess,” he rasps, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes closing, “My wife.”
And despite your father’s protests, you rise to your feet, lifting Feyd’s arm in the air beside yours, beaming out at the crowd, “I wish to pronounce na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen my champion. And my future husband.”
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The night of your wedding comes quicker than either of you anticipate. After the ancient Harkonnen rites are completed, you and Feyd stand in front of the bed you are meant to share from this day forward. Feyd, for his part, is unsure of what to do. He has never been with a princess, after all, much less one he is meant to spend the rest of his life with.
Much less one he has loved since before he even met them.
You take his hand gently, bringing it to your face. Again, he feels that strange thudding in his chest, like someone has plunged their hand into his ribcage and is squeezing his heart. Your voice is gentle, unlike the way it sounds when the two of you are in public.
“Don’t be afraid.”
“Why would I be afraid of you? I bested you in combat?” He gives what could almost be considered a nervous chuckle.
You shake your head, your thumb running along his cheekbone before you pull him along to the bed, “You don’t have to wear a mask around me anymore. I know who you are. I accept all of you. I love all of you. Let me show you my love.”
Feyd gasps as you press your lips to his in a tender first kiss. He never expected this from you. He has never felt this before. Never in his life has he thought of himself as worthy of gentleness, of tenderness. But here, he is like wet clay in your hands, his lips eagerly chasing yours every time you break away for air. You gently push him down on the bed, undoing his shirt, your palms tracing over his pale, smooth skin. You press a kiss to his chest, down to his stomach before undoing the buttons on his trousers. Your strokes are featherlight and gentle even on his cock, your thumb pressing softly against the vein that runs along its underside, making him let out a choked moan.
You pull your hand back and he lets out a noise of protest at the absence of your touch, but you merely spit on your hand and begin again. And you gaze at him with the sweetest, kindest eyes he has ever seen in his life. He hardly knows what to do with himself, his breath quickening as you bring him closer and closer to the edge.
“You’re beautiful,” you say softly, “We may be warriors in the arena. Even in the bedchamber at times, I don’t mind. But tonight? Let me be gentle with you. Let me show you what the touch of a lover can feel like.”
He nods, feeling weak and pathetic as his eyes water ever so slightly. He grabs your wrist, moving your hand away.
Feyd’s voice is low and husky as he speaks, “I want to be inside you.”
You smile, moving away from him just enough to slip out of your dress, revealing your bare body to him. It is not unblemished. You have scars, the scars of a warrior. And as you join your body with his, a low moan erupting from his lips, he presses a kiss to one on your shoulder, one on your chest. He’ll commit every scar to memory, watch as they begin to fade over time. But his love for you, his desire never will.
You move against him, his hands resting on your hips, your hair falling like a curtain around the two of you, protecting you from the outside world, from the expectations of his family and your own.
Feyd watches as you move your hand between where your bodies join to circle your swollen pearl. He pauses for a moment before sitting up, pulling you into a kiss, his hand replacing yours as he rolls his thumb against you, his breath mixing with yours as you reach your peak, moaning his name against his lips.
He reaches his own soon after, finding himself utterly spent, the sight of his black seed trickling down your thigh as you lay down beside him bringing a slight smirk to his lips.
No, not a smirk. A smile.
It was never like this with his Harpies, nor any lover he’s had before. He chuckles as you bite down gently on his shoulder, giving you an amused look as you gaze up at him.
“You’re like a little kitten,” he teases, wrapping his arms around you, a sense of calm coming over him, the likes of which he’s never felt before, “Go on, Princess. It’s alright.”
You laugh softly, biting again, your eyes slowly closing as you mumble, “You had best get some rest before our next round husband. I have no intention of being gentle this time around.”
He looks forward to that.
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