#Ewan Mitchell

[hoosbandewan]

EWAN MITCHELL as AEMOND TARGARYEN The House that Dragons Built S2E7

[drunk-person]

Sweet as plums

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Summary: On a hot day in Kings Landing, very close to the festivities celebrating the day of conquest, Prince Aemond sends a basket of fresh fruit to his sweet wife in her chambers, not expecting that the sweetness of the fruit would make her even sweeter to him than she normally is.

WARNING: +18 mdni! Smut, p in v, fingering, oral sex F receiving, no description for the reader.

Word cont: 2.100 k

Author's note: I wasn't going to write anything for the end of the year because it's really hot at Christmas where I live so it's a bit strange to write about snow and hot cocoa. So I thought I'd write something closer to my culture, since due to the heat, we traditionally eat fresh fruit at Christmas! I hope you enjoy this piece!! 💖💖💕💕

The sun burned the walls of the Red Keep with overwhelming force, leaving everyone enveloped in scorching heat in the process. The ladies of the court wore looser dresses and softer fabrics to try to survive the heat, while many of them walked around in a way that could easily be considered shameless, being called whores in low whispers by the more conservative ladies when they weren't looking.

Among the keep's servants, there was a general rush that day, as at nightfall the banquet that would open the celebrations of the day of conquest would begin, which would be celebrated with a tournament and endless dances. Ships and carriages kept arriving with guests from all over who needed to be allocated to their respective places. And as well as guest ships, dozens of merchant ships also arrived with fresh supplies to be served to the royal family at the banquets.

On one of these ships from Gulltown there had been a shipment of sweet, fresh fruit, so ripe that its skins shone when they met the golden sunlight. Prince Aemond had barely set eyes on the crates being carried by the servants when, with a very serious look, he ordered that some of the fruit be immediately separated into a basket and taken to his wife in their shared chambers, which was promptly obeyed.

The prince found himself reasonably regretting the decision to send his wife those fruits now, while he tried to discuss with her important matters regarding the banquet later. Since he could hardly concentrate on what he needed to say to her with the juicy juice from the bright plum that she delicately devoured gently running down her chin and down the line of her neck until it reached the neckline of the flowing nightgown she wore for the hot day. and get lost adorably between those breasts, exactly the way Aemond would like to do it at that moment.

-Husband? - The words left her soft, red lips, still moist from the juice of the fruit that Aemond was sure was sweet.

-Aemond? - Y/n's voice pronouncing his name woke him from his trance, bringing him back to reality and almost making him lose his breath once again as he looked into his wife's bright eyes. - Is everything okay?

-Could you please leave your fruit to eat after I leave? - Aemond practically panted, staring at her with a crease in his forehead while his eye burned with a glow that Y/n had come to know very well in the last few months of being married to the prince.

Lust.

Concern instantly left Y/n's gaze as she tilted her head to the left side with a mischievous smile still holding the plum between her fingers.

-Why husband? - She sighed with a soft pout, before biting the juicy fruit once more, feeling the sweet flavor with a slight sourness at the end invading her mouth. - It's so sweet.

-Wife. - Aemond practically growled as he approached her slowly, with that glazed and predatory look on her, making the girl's heart flutter in her chest.

-Taste it, husband. - She smiled, lifting her torso from the sofa with a provocative look while biting her lower lip and extending the plum towards Aemond.

The prince's slightly purplish blue eyes sparkled against his wife's with each slow step he took towards her. His breathing was heavy as he gently ran his tongue over his lower lip, watching her hungrily.

When he finally approached the sofa, Aemond leaned forward, bringing his plump pink lips closer to Y/n's hand, who was holding the plum firmly between his fingers, feeling the juicy broth run down his palm and onto his wrist.

She felt her entire skin stand on end when her husband's tongue moved across her wrist, sucking the fruit juice that had hungrily flowed down there, leaving soft kisses and sucks along the way to her hand, where he finally bit off a generous piece of the plum. making a few drops of the fruit juice run down his chiseled chin. With a sideways smile, Aemond just wiped one of the drops with the tip of his thumb and sucked it right away while admiring her with that same hungry look.

-Doña. - He murmured, leaning against her, bringing his face closer to his wife's, making her gasp slightly.

-What does it mean? - She sighed, feeling dizzy as her whole body tingled at the sound of her husband's voice speaking in Valyrian.

-Sweet. - He repeated in the common language, subtly licking his lower lip and moving even closer to her. Y/n had never been struck by lightning, but she supposed that if she had been, this was how her body would feel.

With her eyes shining with greed, she saw another remaining drop run down the left side of Aemond's face, and before it could drip down the tip of his prominent chin, she licked it. Traveling the entire path that the juicy drop had taken before her, running her hot tongue from her husband's chin to her lips with a wanton smile on her own lips.

-Do you take pleasure in setting me on fire acting as if you were a whore from Lys? - Aemond gasped, holding her face firmly between his hands, squeezing her cheeks with his fingertips and staring at her with his eyes burning with desire.

The smile on Y/n's lips grew even wider if possible upon hearing that.

-I like to see the hunger in your eyes when you desire me, husband. - She sighed, looking at him from beneath her eyelashes, still with that wanton smile on her lips. - I take pleasure in watching you burn when I warm your bed every night.

The words had barely left Y/n's lips when Aemond closed the short space that remained between them, pressing a firm and demanding kiss on those sweet lips filled with the soft flavor of ripe plums that almost made him sigh.

Even in the middle of the kiss, the smile did not leave Y/n's features, who tangled her fingers in the silver strands of the prince's hair, pulling him closer and closer. Amidst the gentle tugs on his hair, she dragged her hand through the clasp of his eyepatch, pulling it carelessly and throwing it back. Averting her lips from his, she moved her kisses up to the prominent scar on his left eye, kissing it with barely contained desire until she reached the shiny sapphire protean, gasping as she felt Aemond's kisses spreading through her own as well.

With a hungry smile, Aemond sucked on her chin and neck, licking greedily where the sweet and slightly sour juice had dripped moments ago, until he reached his prize. The neckline tied with a light green string of his wife's nightgown that he untied with just one excessively strong pull, exposing her plum-sweet breasts to himself, making Y/n sigh as she felt his warm, wet tongue descending over her breasts, licking all the sweet and sticky juice in the process until he reached her nipples erect with desire, which the prince sucked and squeezed between his fingers with dedication.

Amid Y/n's sighs of pleasure, Aemond's left hand slowly climbed up her soft thighs, searching for something even sweeter that he would love to devour. The smile on the prince's lips only widened when his fingers found the growing wetness at the apex of his wife's thighs, and she emitted a strangled moan as she felt her husband's rough fingers rubbing against her soft folds.

-Open your legs for me, Doña lanty. (Sweet fox). - He murmured, looking at her from beneath his light eyelashes, still with his face buried between her breasts, laying them even further against the sofa. - I want to taste your sweetness now.

Feeling almost faint, she nodded, opening her legs for him languidly, losing her breath when Aemond's lips finally licked a strip from her entrance to the pearl, gently sucking the latter while circling it with the tip of his tongue, making Y/n scream out begging for his name, tangling her hands again between Aemond's silver strands.

-Yes… - She sighed, gently pulling his hair while she felt his hot tongue feasting on her pussy. - Aemond… Husband…

Y/n could feel him smiling against her wetness as he moved his head against her eagerly, coaxing all the pleasure he could out of her. Aemond's rough fingers teased her entrance, and slowly penetrated her, thrusting languidly and firmly, making Y/n writhe beneath him on the edge of climax. However, before she could reach the peak of her pleasure, Aemond stopped his ministrations, almost making her scream in frustration in the process.

-As sweet as the fruit, ābrazȳrys. (Wife). - He moaned with contentment when he finally removed his head from the inside of Y/n's thighs, feeling her shudder beneath him as her sweet juices ran down his chin just like the plum's had run down earlier.

-Husband, please… - She whimpered, lifting her torso from the couch to pull him towards her, her lips finding his, feeling the taste of her own arousal mixed with the sweet juice of the plum flood her tongue causing a frenzy of sensations.

-Please what, Doña Lanty? - Aemond murmured against her lips, nibbling lightly in the process, making her writhe beneath him.

-Aemond… please, I want you! - She sighed, lifting her hips and rubbing them against his, moaning as she felt his growing bulge against her heated core. - Please, husband. - She sucked a subtle mark on his jaw as she gasped those words.

Feeling his breath catch, Aemond pulled the ties on his pants as fast as he could, untying them with just one hand, since the other was too busy squeezing Y/n's hips and holding her close to him, while she kissed him passionately and desperately.

The prince didn't bother to take off his doublet and finish undressing, or to remove what was left of the thin nightgown his wife was wearing, he just pushed the pants down enough to free himself and penetrated her in the next instant, feeling her moist heat embracing him and taking him deeper and deeper, while listening to the sweet sighs and moans she emitted for him.

When Aemond made the first thrust, Y/n dug her fingers firmly into the dark green leather of the doublet, pulling him closer and closer, begging passionately for more while kissing and biting her husband's lips.

Aemond couldn't stop, he couldn't even breathe. The taste of her lips drove him crazy, the heat between her thighs made him want to never leave those rooms again. The perfect mix of plums from her lips with the bittersweet taste that remained of her pussy on his lips intoxicated him to the point that he could barely control his own thrusts.

The moment his wife's heated walls pressed against him amidst her uncontrollable sobs of pleasure at her climax, was the moment when Aemond spilled himself inside her with a muffled moan, lightly biting her right shoulder in the process.

-So good for me ābrazȳrys. - Aemond murmured against her shoulder, leaving a kiss on the place where he had previously bitten. - So sweet.

-What…- She began to speak lightly laughing and still breathless, feeling her whole body burning with heat and her heart racing with happy contentment after the strenuous activity while they were both still dressed.

-What would you like to tell me about the Conquest Day banquet earlier husband? - She finally managed to speak a few moments later, still below Aemond even though she felt like she was going to melt from the heat, while she gently caressed his silver hair.

-Forget the banquet Ñuha Doña. (My sweet). - He spoke muffledly against the valley between her breasts, lying there comfortably feeling his wife's caresses, even though he was sweating due to the heat.

-Don't you want to celebrate? - She questioned with a subtly arched eyebrow, still slowly caressing her husband's silky locks even though she was confused, since it wasn't typical of Aemond to ignore duties. - Everyone will be there, it's conquest day!

-The only form of celebration that brings me joy is when I celebrate on your sweet body. - Aemond murmured, raising his face to his wife's height, covering them with his curtain of silky, silver hair, leaving the shine of his sapphire even more prominent when his lips joined hers once more, in a kiss as sweet as the fruit they had just shared.

N/a²: Thanks for reading, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! 💕💕💖💖💖

[theboleyngirlx]

the way you use your body, baby, you make a fool of death with your beauty ✨❤️‍🔥

[slaytheusurper]

I- I- Omg-

"The genius, Michael Gavey." - Michael Gavey x Reader.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, masturbation, foul language, loss of virginity, cum control.

English is not my first language, so I hope you will forgive me if there are any mistakes.

It’s not as if anyone’s queuing up to see what’s behind those smudged glasses or that same red sweater he pulls on every Monday. And that's fine. Honestly, it is. He's made peace with it. It’s their loss, isn’t it? That's the mantra he clings to, the thread keeping his fragile ego intact: They're the ones missing out. And God, doesn’t he need to believe it.

Michael’s good at a lot of things, and he knows it. Brilliant, really. Genius, if we're being honest. Maths? Please—he’s never even touched a calculator. Numbers are his domain, his sanctuary, the one place where he feels entirely at ease. Books too—though never fantasy; he’d rather lose himself in something real, something concrete. But everything else? Social skills? A complete disaster, really. Painful to watch.

When you arrived in Oxford, it hit him hard. Why? Because even when he was buried in the silence of the library, there you were, watching him. Always watching. Maybe intending to read a book—upside down, no less—or lounging with your legs thrown over a table, headphones blaring as if you couldn't care less about the world around you.

Michael Gavey isn't used to being seen. For fuck’s sake, he’s Michael Gavey. Nobody. Invisible, as he’s always preferred. But then you came along, and suddenly, invisibility wasn't an option. You became something else entirely: a problem, a distraction, a bloody nuisance he couldn’t seem to get rid of. And maybe, deep down, that’s what scared him most.

So, naturally, his response was to start staring back. Maybe if he leaned into being a proper weirdo, you’d back off. But no, of course not. You didn't flinch. You just stared right back, unwavering, unbothered. It didn't take long for one of the teachers to step in, warning him, of all people, to knock it off. And you? You just smiled. Smiled like you'd won some secret, twisted game, baring all your teeth like a predator who'd just cornered its prey.

When he squinted at you, furrowing his eyebrows in some attempt to decode whatever the hell was going on, you simply glanced at the table, still grinning like you had a secret you were dying to keep.

What was your problem? Were you planning something? Was there a game being played here, something sinister he couldn’t quite see? The questions clawed at him, gnawed at his focus, and yet, no answers came. Only that smile. God, he hated it.

Things weren't improving, no, they were deteriorating rather quickly. And it all took a turn for the bizarre when, in the dead of night, he awoke still half hard, with his shorts drenched in cum and his mind? Cluttered with vivid memories of a particular dream from the previous night. Never had he scrubbed a piece of clothing with such fury in his life; this treacherous body was doing him in. And the most egregious part? His cock was a bloody jest, because even after such mortification, he had to wank off once more just to make the torment subside.

That day, the Oxford corridors felt like they were smoldering beneath him, each step fueling the inferno inside his chest. His sneakers might as well have been on fire for how much he burned with rage. And then he saw you, loitering by your locker, looking infuriatingly calm as always. It was like you wanted to drive him insane.

He stormed over, slamming your locker shut with a single hand, his nostrils flaring like he was ready to tear you apart—not literally, of course. Well, maybe a little. He was unraveled, utterly tormented, and you? You were only making it worse.

“Stop.” The word came out flat, almost pitiful, his voice cracking under the weight of his irritation. His blue eyes, usually so sharp, were clouded and bloodshot, as if they’d been scorched by his fury.

“With what?” you asked, tilting an eyebrow, that insufferable smirk tugging at your lips. Carefree. Effortless. It made his teeth grind in pure frustration. He didn’t even understand why he felt so unhinged—just that he did.

“What the hell do you want?” he barked, his voice echoing down the corridor. Heads turned, a few people pausing to glance at the scene, but you didn't so much as flinch. No fear, no embarrassment. You just leaned lazily against your locker, staring at him down like you had all the time in the world.

“Your number, to start with, would be great.” The words hit him like a physical blow. His pupils dilated so fast it felt like the world had tilted. If darkness swallowed everything right then and there, he was convinced he’d still see you.

And that’s when everything shifted. You weren’t messing with him—not in the way he’d thought. No, you were interested in him. The realisation hit Michael like a slap, and even then, his perpetually self-loathing brain struggled to piece it all together. For once, his stupid mind was just that: stupid.

But then the messages started, tentative at first, and something clicked. You actually got on—really got on. It was strange, almost unnerving, how much you seemed to have in common. You liked some of the same nerdy things as him, and he found himself listening to bands he’d previously written off because you mentioned them. Slowly, the conversations moved out of his phone and into the library, where you started sitting at the same table.

People noticed, of course. Curious glances trailed after the two of you, some even daring to linger when Michael—Michael Gavey, of all people—was caught smiling. Not a smirk or a grimace, but an actual smile, albeit half-hidden behind his hand. But it was there, and for once, he didn’t mind. Not entirely.

And then, on a Friday night when everything seemed eerily serene, the text message arrived. 'Do you want to come to my dorm?' Panic ensued. Perhaps it's a tad presumptuous to assume you want to fuck him, isn't it? Yet, he was presuming precisely that. But the truth is, Michael has only kissed one girl in his entire life; otherwise, his knowledge comes from pornography, books about the human anatomy, and the hushed conversations in the men's locker room. And it's not that he didn't want to; in fact, he wanted to, desperately so, but the truth was that no one seemed sufficiently captivated to offer him the chance. But you, you were offering. Maybe. What does one do with that?

He took a shower, donned his usual jeans and a white shirt, slipped on his sneakers, and even spent time before the mirror wrestling with his blond hair, to little avail, of course. He decided he wouldn't be a coward; he had this chance, maybe, and he wouldn't squander it with timidity. He made his way to the girls' dorm on campus, garnering more than a few disdainful looks from the passing girls. It was just because it was him; if it were Felix sneaking in, they'd be all smiles. But who cares? There was only one person he hoped would truly appreciate his presence. He reached your door, his breath caught in his throat, and knocked so feebly that perhaps he thought you wouldn't even hear. Pathetic, honestly.

But you heard him, and when you opened the door, he froze for a moment. You'd just taken a shower; your skin was still slightly flushed from the hot water, wearing an oversized shirt, once black but now faded to grey, and some pajama shorts that honestly looked more like his underwear than actual shorts. He swallowed hard, managing a crooked smile. You leaned against the doorframe, your smile much more genuine.

"You came." The words slipped from your lips with such ease, rolling off your tongue with a genuine satisfaction that straightened his crooked smile.

"Yeah, well. It's not like I have anything better to do, of course." His reply lacked the sharpness he'd rehearsed in his mind, accompanied by a glance at the floor and a stupid, silly smile.

"Yeah, of course." You laughed, rolling your eyes, and turned your body to give him space to enter, if he wanted to, though he looked as if he might bolt at any second.

But he didn't run away; no, he actually stepped inside. The room was like most others, yet he was struck by how orderly it was. Like any typical dorm, there was the TV, the two single beds, a small table, and in the corner of an adjacent smaller room, the bathroom. The scent of cleaning products lingered, indicating you'd taken the time to tidy up before inviting him over. This shouldn't have pleased him as much as it did, but it did.

"Just take off your sneakers before you lay on the bed," you said with that nonchalant tone of yours, picking up the TV remote from the table.

He glanced at the paused movie on the screen before turning his attention to the bed. His mind wasn't exactly racing as he sat down, beginning to untie his sneakers, but his focus soon shifted to the side of your face. He was transfixed by how your hair framed your features, how your lips were so perfectly shaped, and how your eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration. He had to run a hand over his face, nearly knocking off his glasses, to bring himself back to reality, blinking several times to refocus on removing his sneakers.

"I chose 'Evil Dead,' but they didn't have the classics." Your voice drew his gaze upward again. You casually made your way to the bed beside him, practically throwing yourself down, causing the mattress to bounce. "Is that a problem for you?" you asked, turning to look at him, your eyes locking with his.

His throat visibly tightened as he swallowed, while you didn't even blink. For a moment, he found it a rather amusing jest. What could a girl like you, with the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, with lips that curved into the brightest smile he could imagine, possibly want with him? He was either the luckiest bastard in the world or the biggest delusional of the year. But that was fine, at least for now.

"No, it's not a problem at all," Michael mumbled, unsure if he was referring to the movie choice or something else entirely. But it would suffice either way.

He saw you smile widely, and you felt you should, noticing his blue eyes dilate behind his glasses. Looking down where you had crossed your legs beneath you, you tried to focus and simply pressed play on the movie. The low noise from the TV soon filled the room, the colors of the film painting your faces and reflecting in Michael's glasses. The silence was comfortable, as always. The sounds of calm breathing filled the space, but well, his eyes weren't really on the TV; they were on you. To the point where he had to rest his hand on his face, just to appreciate it, perhaps.

"You know, watching a movie works better when you're looking at the screen," you commented, your eyes still fixed on the screen, though you felt the heat from his gaze on your cheek.

"I prefer to watch you." His words were barely above a whisper, but they reached you, making your smile widen even more.

Your eyes flicked to him, while his remained steady, though he felt his palms sweating against his cheek. He was nervous, and his attempt at an impassive expression wasn't fooling you. The words that left his lips were just truths, and seeing you smile, it was good to see you smile, it brought a subtle curve to his own lips. Sighing, you drew your knees up to your chest, resting your chin there, unsure of what to make of his words or of him. Just as he was unsure of what to make of you or how much you unsettled him.

"I hate almost everyone here except you." Your words mirrored his in tone, quiet, perhaps too intimate to slip out.

They made him pause, just looking at you, wondering. Time seemed to stand still, the screams from the movie not reaching your ears; things were quiet, almost silent. And that's when his hand rose, wrapping around the back of your neck, perhaps with the most courage he'd ever mustered in his life. Your lips parted slightly when you noticed him shifting on the bed to get closer, and you responded in kind, leaning towards him, your hand hesitating before also reaching up to the back of his neck, slipping between the golden strands to hold him firmly. Bringing your faces close, your breaths began to mingle, and soon all that was reflected in his glasses were your lips, all his attention focused solely on them.

"You're trouble, and you want to know why?" Michael whispered, your gaze falling to his lips as they formed the words. They were thrown at your face, raw and direct. "Because it seems like after I met you, there's been something wrong with my brain." He lifted his thumb to trace your bottom lip, as if to commit it to memory.

"Yeah?" Your response lacked strength, not truly. "That's good, because it seems like after you I'll never be the same." Whispering another confession, now it seemed more than fitting, even with your breathing too rapid to say much more, or what you truly wanted to.

A faint smile touched Michael's lips, perhaps an attempt at composure before he leaned in closer. Tilting your heads in opposite directions, your noses brushed against each other, the taste of each other's breath mingling on your lips, shared. His lips were the first to part, capturing your lower one slowly, almost tentatively, until yours responded, capturing his upper lip. The kiss started slowly, your lips moving together with an unhurried grace, despite your quickening breaths at the contact. His free hand found your waist, attempting to pull you closer, while your hand tangled in his hair, gripping it almost in a fist.

But it wasn't enough, far from it. Leaning forward, Michael guided you both down onto the bed, supporting himself with each hand on either side of your head, positioning his body between your legs, which parted to welcome him. One of his hands slid down to your thigh, lifting it and pressing it against his side, your hips naturally seeking each other, and his already hardened cock brushed against your increasingly aroused intimacy. Sounds escaped between kisses, your hands sliding to grip his back, when Michael pressed your bodies together again, rolling his hips and drawing out a sly moan from his own lips, making it difficult to continue kissing you.

Your hands reached for the hem of his shirt, attempting to pull it up, but his hands caught yours, pinning them above your head, fingers intertwining there, as he pulled back just enough to look you squarely in the eye. His heavy breathing made his chest rise and fall, sweat causing his glasses to slide down his nose.

"I..." the words seemed reluctant to escape as he gazed down at you, your lips flushed and your chest heaving. He didn't want to dissuade you, but he had to say it. "I've never done that."

Your only response was to lift your head from the bed, seeking his lips and succeeding in a gentle capture, with him lowering himself to return the kiss. Though not deep, your teeth nipped at his lower lip, tugging gently, perhaps trying to draw him closer. Your fingers pressed against his above your head, yearning to be free, you just wanted to touch him, feel him, it didn't matter if he was inexperienced, if you had to guide him step by step, or if this was all you would have, feeling him like this above you.

"Just touch me, I don't care," you murmured against his lip, without the strength for more words, which in response prompted him to roll his hips against yours again, closing his eyes with a moan, just as your head tilted back, lifting your hips to meet his movement.

His hands released yours, and you quickly grabbed his shirt, pulling it up and off him, and he reciprocated, lifting yours inch by inch until he could pull it over your head. Without a bra, your breasts were bared to him, making him pause. His lips went dry as he took in the sight of your hardened nipples, ready for attention, despite his momentary hesitation. You saw it in his eyes, in how they flickered to meet yours, and your hand reached to caress his cheek before grabbing the back of his neck, gently guiding him toward your chest, arching off the bed to ensure he understood your consent.

And he understood more than clearly, leaning down to kiss the space between your breasts before moving to one, enveloping it with his mouth entirely, using his hand to squeeze it firmly. The sensation of your skin against his mouth elicited a low sound from him that vibrated through your body, prompting you to grind your hips against his already hard cock. His tongue followed, swirling around your nipple, sucking as if his life depended on it. His mouth salivated, saliva running down your chest, glistening your skin with his essence. His free hand went to your other breast, squeezing it tightly, his lips trailing kisses to the other side, his tongue sliding along until it reached your other nipple, circling it with fervent enthusiasm.

"Fuck," you murmured, your intimacy throbbing, squeezing as you leaned on the bed to create friction against his erection, making him to bite the nipple in his mouth to stifle a loud moan.

His lips left your chest, observing the glistening, swollen flesh from his attentions. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight, going straight to his core. He looked down to where his hardness met your shorts, stopping himself from climaxing right there, taking deep breaths.

"Tell me..." his words trailed off, his lips struggling to draw in breaths. "Tell me how to be good for you." His whisper was broken, he was too far gone to really care about it.

You smiled, even in the throes of your overwhelming need for him. One of your hands took one of his, slowly guiding it to your core, and he watched intently as you slipped it inside your shorts and soaked panties, biting his lip as his expression contorted with pleasure. Slowly, you positioned his fingers perfectly over your clit, starting to move them in circles, making your breathing quicken further. Fortunately, Michael was a quick learner, or perhaps just desperate enough. Your fingers left his as he took over, moving them faster, circling over your soaked clit. You tried to reach for his hardness in his pants, but with his free hand, he caught yours and pinned it to the bed.

"Don't." The words came out swiftly, a desperate command because he knew well that if you touched him, he would cum right then and there.

You accepted it, not attempting to touch him again. Feeling his fingers slide over and over your most sensitive spot, the sounds began to fill the room, the wetness so intense it seeped through your pajama shorts, and he could hardly believe his incredible luck. His eyes moved to your face, noticing your parted lips, your cheeks flushed red, and your breasts, still glistening from his saliva, seeming to beckon him. One of your hands gripped his wrist, and he could see from your expression how close you were. The hand that had been holding yours to the bed released it, moving to the back of your neck, lifting your head to make you look down.

"Watch," he murmured, sliding his thumb perfectly over your clit, and you felt like stars were bursting behind your eyes even as you complied and stared.

You saw his hand moving inside your shorts, the veins in his forearm pulsing with the effort, the muscles there flexing. His hand held you tightly, almost encompassing your neck. And when his fingers started moving side to side, you knew you were finished. Your lips parted completely, a groan trapped in your throat escaped, you tried to throw your head back but his grip prevented it, and then, your walls clenched, he could feel the pulsing around his fingers, your belly flexing as you reached your climax, clamping your legs around his forearm.

Your body goes limp on the bed, your thighs still trembling as his hands slide from your neck down to your thighs, smearing his taste there. He grips the hem of your shorts, pulling them down along with your panties. When his eyes meet your pulsing, glistening pussy, a sigh escapes him, eyes closing momentarily to regain control. You hear the sound of his pants being unzipped, him kicking them off along with his underwear. Your eyes open just in time to see him grip the base of his cock, bringing the head to your sensitive clit, eliciting a tight, desperate moan from you.

"You're so beautiful." he murmurs, dragging the precum-slick tip of his cock across your clit, making your walls clench as he watches. His free hand runs down the inside of your thighs, ensuring they're coated in your own wetness.

He squeezes his eyes shut in pure ecstasy, rubbing his cock from your clit to your entrance, gripping the base tightly to stave off his climax. Your thighs tremble, your hands gripping the sheets, but nothing seems to alleviate the intensity, there's no escape. You're consumed, completely. Your hips start to move desperately for contact, even as your body protests, your fingers threatening to tear the sheets apart. He rubs once more, the almost sinful sounds echoing off the walls, mingling with his low moans and the contractions of his stomach. You can tell he's doing everything in his power not to cum.

"Can I?" He opens his eyes to whisper, looking directly into yours, and with no strength left to speak, you simply nod.

He sighs deeply before positioning himself at your entrance and pushing inside, feeling your walls resist yet yield as he presses in until fully seated, your groins meeting. A drawn-out moan escapes your lips as his head falls back, a soft groan leaving his throat followed by a sequence of breaths that made his entire body tremble. Michael pauses, trying and failing to calm his racing heart and the overwhelming sensation of your hot, tight insides. Leaning forward, he rests one hand on the bed while the other removes his glasses, setting them aside. Your hands rise to the back of his neck, bringing his forehead to yours, holding it there as he makes the first thrust. Both of your lips part, your moans and breaths mingling.

His thrusts were deep, yet slow. He would withdraw almost completely before sliding back in, each time making your eyes squeeze shut tighter and your head press against his. The sweat on your foreheads seemed to meld you together, turning you into one entity. His eyes opened, burning into your face, and you met his gaze, your eyes filling with tears of pure pleasure as he thrust even deeper.

"I like you," he murmurs, cupping your cheek as his other hand grips the headboard, making the wood creak. A smile graces your lips, almost cut off by his cock sliding in deeper.

"I like you too," you manage to reply between ragged breaths, your fingers tightening around the back of his neck as if it's your lifeline.

He brings his lips to your forehead, giving you a long, lingering kiss, his breath warm against your skin. Then, he brings his hand to your mouth, and with that signal, he starts thrusting with all he has, making you scream into his hand, which hopefully muffles the sound. He rests his own mouth there to also muffle his moans, feeling sweat run down every part of his body, mixing with yours. The bed bangs against the wall, your eyes roll back when he hits that sweet spot inside you, your hands lifting to dig your nails into his back. As your walls clench around him, he feels your climax spill out, soaking the sheets and his lower abdomen. With a louder moan, he quickly pulls out, his cock spilling his cum over your belly.

He releases your mouth and the headboard, letting his full weight rest on you, his head finding solace in the crook of your neck. Your arms encircle his neck, keeping him close as your entire body trembles with the aftershocks of pleasure. Both of you are exhausted, both satisfied. Michael's thoughts drift back to the early weeks of knowing you, how he wished you would vanish, and now, how he dreads the thought of you leaving, like everyone else. The irony might have drawn a bitter laugh from him if he weren't so physically spent.

"I wasn't bluffing," you hear him murmur into your neck, capturing your attention amidst the sensations still coursing through your body. You slowly turn your head towards him.

"What?" you whisper, perhaps fearful that even a slight increase in volume might make this moment slip away, just as much as he is. His eyes, those blues that most people overlook, capture your senses.

"I really like you." Hearing those words again, this time not in the heat of the moment, did something different to you stomach, perhaps quickened your heart more than the entire act itself, burned your skin more than anything else.

Drawing him closer with your hand, you adjust his position so he lies on your chest, where he places a gentle kiss. Your fingers delve into his hair, and you cast a brief glance to the side where his glasses still rest. A smile graces your lips because the truth is, you are utterly and hopelessly in love with the genius Michael Gavey. The irony is that he doesn't seem genius enough to realize it.

[lenoirexv]

EWAN MITCHELL As AEMOND TARGARYEN | House of the Dragon 2x05 | Regent.

[misfitbimbosblog]

Amazes me how Ewan has yet to be pulled into a freaky vampire thriller. How is this matter slept on.

[aemondismyromanempire]

WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Aemond holding Luke's eye - Art by katherinewyvern

"I want you to put out your eye. I plan to make a gift of it to my mother."

[delphianactuallydoodling]

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

i love the way tom, phia and ewan explain in such detail and understand their characters so perfectly.

that casting is so perfect.

i'm in love with those beautiful people.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Making Dreams a Reality -Martin Whitlock

I needed Martin content and there is only so many fics written so far and while many of them are fucking amazing, I’ve read them all so I figured, make your own (especially since several people asked for a Martin fic), and make him an Obsessive Yandere Stalker! So without further ado, Yandere Martin Whitlock!

Warning:This is a Dark Yandere!Martin fic with potentially disturbing content, know your limits before reading Dark stories.

This Dark Content includes: Stalking, Use of Roofies,Forced Oral in Sleep (Fem Receiving), Somnophilia, Non/Dub Con, Manipulation, Naked Photos Taken while Asleep,Use of Daddy Kink, Severe Obsession

DD:DNE

Martin had always been a loner, from a very young age he had no friends, was constantly alone, and preferred the company of his skink that he had had since he was 12. He was comfortable in his solitude and always had been…until her.

Y/n L/n. She worked in the bookshop across the street from his favorite Vinyl shop and he found himself going there more and more just to watch her through the window at the register, checking out customers or reading a book. In fact he was there so much that the owner of the Vinyl shop clearly noticed what he was doing and found it funny. The 60 something year old man commented on how “fine” the young girl truly was and that the boy should just “toss her over his shoulder and carry her on home” if he likes her this much.

The Vinyl shop in town was closed for only a day before it reopened with a new manager that was an older lady. She loved to play her music and sing, not caring at all about how long Martin hung around, often appreciating having a strong young man that is willing to help move the boxes of books upon delivery. She only ever commented on the girl he stares at once, encouraging him to go down the street to the flower shop and get her a bouquet to ask her on a date like men did in her day. He loved her sweet idea and made a mental note to bring her flowers one day when she was his girl to spoil her like she deserved.

His girl was lovely. The faces she would make as she read were adorable and Martin found he was smiling to himself every time she smiled or stuck her tongue out between her lips as she focused particularly hard as she counted money in the till. She was precious…and she was his.

As Martin laid in his bed, cum splattered across his stomach and chest after his third time jerking off that night, he knew that he couldn’t go on like this. His imagination could only get him so far.

He needed the real thing.

He needed Y/n…And so he would have her.

It was easy to put his plan into action considering he had been stalking her for almost a year by that point. He paid one of the guys he often does car-jitsu with to follow her in a very obvious way, steering her away from her usual direction home and towards the parking lot where they fight. Martin knew that if she was being followed that she would be drawn to a group of people and he was completely correct.

The first time he saw her out of work (when he wasn’t following her home as she’s just as much of a home body as he is) was from inside the car and he locked eyes with her, instantly trying to push down the reaction his cock was having from seeing the girl he’s wanted to shove it into for months as well as the adrenaline. He nodded his head to her, smiling and she blushed as she watched him pin the man, twisting his arm until he tapped out with the other one. She looked around apprehensively and he made a show of seeming concerned, opening the car door and stepping out, scanning over the small crowd quickly and seeing his buddy had disappeared like he was supposed to…Martin can take it from here.

‘Hi there. Haven’t seen you here before, I would’ve remembered you. Usually its always the same girls or kids recording us.’ He joked, chuckling awkwardly.

‘Oh, no. I’ve never-um…there was this big guy following me after work and I ended up here cause I didn’t want him to know where I lived…I’m sorry, I’m fucking you up right now!’ She apologized as the next guy was rushing Martin to get back into the car.

‘No, please don’t apologize love. Stay and hang out for a bit until you’re sure he’s gone, in fact I’ll walk you home. I won’t let anyone touch you, Scouts honor…I wasn’t a Boy Scout but you get it.’ He got her to smile and he loved it even more than every other smile he’d seen because he’d made it happen. ‘I’m Martin by the way.’

‘Y/n. Nice to meet you Martin, and thank you. Take your time, I’m not in a rush. I would love to see more of…this?’

And so she stayed. He went three more rounds before giving his place over to walk her home. He hated “quitting” but for her? He would tap out a million times over.

‘Where do you work? Must be close if you’re walking.’ Martin spoke, trying to get the basic knowledge that he needed to know out of the way without her realizing that he already knew it.

‘Oh, I work at Plot Twist, the book shop on the corner back there. It was always my happy place in school and when I turned 16 the owner offered me a job since I practically worked there anyway.’ She explained and he could see how much she loved it.

‘That’s cool. You like to read?’

‘Constantly. It’s a perfect job, I get fantastic discounts and I get to read all day when I don’t have to stock or ring people up. Plus the coffee shop next door has great hot chocolate.’ She giggled.

This was a new sound for Martin that he had never heard before and it shot straight to his dick. ‘That sounds really cool, perfect for you. I’ve never been much of a reader but I’ll stop in sometime, I spend a lot of time in the Vinyl shop across the street, I’ve definitely seen you before-I knew you looked familiar.’ He teased making her smile.

‘Well, stop in and I promise I’ll find you something you’ll like. I’ll even give you my employee discount…this is me.’ She said stopping at an apartment complex.

‘Need me to walk you in?’ He offered but she shook her head.

‘You’ve done more than enough Martin. I really appreciate it.’

‘Anytime Y/n, it was really nice talking to you.’ As she moved to open the door he took hold of her hand and bowed his head before kissing her knuckle sweetly, grinning and making her laugh at his teasing.

‘Goodnight Martin.’ With that he watched her walk inside before turning and making his way back home, his erection pressing painfully against the zipper of his jeans.

He had touched her! Only her hand, but her skin was so soft he couldn’t help but imagine it on him everywhere. He was so focused on touching her that he hadn’t even asked for her number like he meant to but she had invited him to her work, he would get it tomorrow. For now, he knew he would be desperately fucking his hand until his cock was raw or until he finally passed out.

‘Welcome to Plot Twist, is there anything that you’re-Martin!’ He watched his girls face light up as he walked in and he was instantly thrilled that he brings her so much happiness. He did have to readjust himself though as she walked around the counter and pulled him into a hug, her breasts pressing to his chest. ‘Are you ready to find a book? What kinds of things are you into besides car fights?’ She teased and he found he couldn’t stop staring at her smile.

‘I’m…I don’t know? I love my skink and music I suppose-‘

‘Music!’ She cut him off. ‘What kinds of music? You strike me as a Hard Rock kind of guy, Maybe you’d be more into magazines? We have a tons of music magazines that you’d probably like? Rocksound? Revolver? I personally love Kerrang myself-‘

‘Oh, I love Kerrang! Gotta order it though, but it’s worth it cause they always have awesome interviews!’ Martin found himself truly surprised by her interest but he was happy for it, he had known that he made a good choice on Y/n and she just kept proving him right the more she talked.

‘Well you can get it here. We don’t get many copies but I always snag one off the top every month. I can do the same for you if you’d like and put it off to the side? Actually, there was one put on hold to be picked up before noon today and they never came, interested?’

‘Fuck Yeah, you are awesome! Gotta make sure I can keep getting them every issue, I have all of them dating back to the beginning.’ He really did have every issue but he knew that was likely to get her attention and give her a reason to come to his place.

‘Oh my God, what?! All of them?’ He nodded.

‘All the way back to June 1981, you should come and check them out sometime. It’s nice to talk to someone who shares my interests in this shitty town.’

‘I would Love that Martin, yeah! When?’ She asked, moving back behind the counter and looking along the shelf, pulling the magazine from the brown paper bag that it had been on hold in.

‘What time are you off? You can come to mine and hang out? Music, horror movies, pizza?’ Martin knew that with anyone else he would come off as awkward and weird but he knew his girl didn’t see that at all and she was quick to agree to the date.

‘Okay! Yeah, I’m done at 5 and I’m off tomorrow, so we can hang out for as long as we want.’ She scanned the magazine alnd applied her discount like she had promised before handing him the bag with a smile.

He didn’t know how long they stood there like that just smiling at each other but they were shaken out of it by the bell above the door that rang as a man walked in. ‘Okay, well I’ll come and meet you here at 5 then.’

‘See you then.’ With that he was out the door, turning back and smiling at her to see her watching him as well.

‘I’m here to pick up a magazine I put on hold yesterday. The name is Barker.’ Martins eyes widened and Y/n just seemed to roll her at him.

‘I said it would be held until noon, it is after noon sir, so sorry. Be here on time next time, like I told you-the magazine is very popular.’ He held in his snort until he got out of the store, grinning like an idiot and nearly running home to clean his room. He pulled out all of the magazines and ordered a pizza to be delivered at 6:30 before showering and washing the blood off of him from the night before that hadn’t come off from just scrubbing his face.

Martin thought about what Y/n’s hands would feel like. They would be soft and amazing, and he’s sure she would clean blood off of him after every night of car-jitsu. She would tend to him like a good girlfriend and he couldn’t wait for it, determined to feel exactly what her hands felt like that night.

He met her at the bookshop right on time and walked her back to his place where they spent the next hour reading through the magazines and talking about their favorite bands. She surprised him a bit with her knowledge but it only made him all the more confident that she was made just for him.

They ate dinner when it arrived and he decided that he couldn’t do without her anymore, he needed to ensure she didn’t leave him. He ended up doing something he knew was wrong but he couldn’t help himself as he made her tea and crushed up the sleeping pills into a white powder, pouring them into the hot drink before delivering it to her on his bed.

They laid there together and she willingly snuggled close to him as they watched her favorite horror movie, staying exactly like that until the medication began taking effect and her eyes began falling shut.

‘God I’m tired…must have been a longer day than I realized…I should get home.’ She yawned but his arm tightened around her waist.

‘You can stay. You shouldn’t be walking this late anyway. I don’t want anything happening to you.’ He admitted and she paused but nodded, not in a place to argue with how exhausted she was.

‘I’m sorry. I’m so tired…I-I don’t…’

‘Me too…I feel like I need a nap…’ Martin responded, pretending to be tired too, laying down onto the bed and giving her space before she did, pulling the blanket over her and closing his eyes and waiting for her to pass out. She actually snuggled up to what she assumed was his sleeping body before passing out.

That was way too easy. He made a vow that he would protect her from anything and everything from that moment on, never leaving her in any kind of danger other than himself considering how easy it was to drug her and she didn’t even question her sudden sleepiness.

He pulled the blanket back down, leaning close and nuzzling into her neck where he licked a trail up to her ear. ‘So fucking perfect Darling. Daddies gonna take such care of you…all mine! Gonna make you feel so good.’ His hands moved to pull at her dress, pushing it up and kissing down her chest and belly, shoving his face between her legs and inhaling deeply. ‘Fuck! I’m gonna taste you for fucking hours!’ He got the dress off of her before pulling out his phone and taking a picture of her pretty red lace panties. He couldn’t stop himself from taking another one before repositioning her and taking another. She was the loveliest thing he had ever seen and he was determined to convince her to pose for him later in their relationship.

Martin pulled her panties down her legs before leaning back down and kissing her thighs several times. She smelled of the pomegranate mango body wash that he knew she used as well as her arousal, a fact that just got him more hard when he realized that she was wet. Sticking his tongue out, Martin gave her cunt a test lick, tasting her for the first time and knowing that he would never get enough of her. He had waited for this moment for so long and it was just as perfect as he imagined, especially as Y/n let out a loud moan upon his lips wrapping around her clit, sucking firmly. It was him! He was here doing this! He was the one making her feel so good!

His cock was throbbing and he could barely stand it anymore, pulling his pants and boxers down before lifting her legs around his waist and resting his member against her slit. Sliding his cock up and down against her was made simple with just how wet she really was. ‘Fuck Y/n, so God damn perfect, aren’t you baby? Daddy’s good little girl, giving me your wet little cunt, never keeping her away from me again.’ He’d already had to wait a year for this moment, he would never wait again, he would make his baby so horny for him that she’ll allow him to use her whenever he wants. ‘You’ll be my needy little baby, won’t you? Yeah, you will. My desperate little Princess.’ He pressed his lips to hers, having to physically restrain himself from not only biting her flesh and leaving hickeys on her but from pressing his cock into her and filling her with everything he had just for her. It was for her, everything that he was belonged to her and Martin truly believed that the only place his cum belonged was inside of his girl-not yet though. He couldn’t risk losing her.

Instead he sat back and finished onto her stomach, panting heavily before taking one final picture, saving them into a private folder that needed a password to access and moving to clean her off. Martin enjoyed the act of cleaning her up, something that he knew he would continue to enjoy doing every time that they were together, determined to make her feel how loved she was. Pulling her clothes back on was simple before covering her with a blanket and laying snuggled up into her side, cuddling into her for the night.

Martin awoke the next morning around 9 and enjoyed his morning with her, watching her sleep peacefully for about 20 minutes before she began moving, opening her eyes just as he shut his and felt her moving around. He peeked his eyes open, watching her move the blanket and check her clothes, seeing that she was still dressed and he had to resist the urge to smirk.

Y/n laid back down, moving closer to him and snuggling him before he groaned, opening his eyes and stretching. ‘Good morning…how did you sleep?’ He asked, smiling at her and watching her blush sweetly.

‘Really well. Your bed is comfortable. I’m still a little groggy but I’m too hungry to care.’ He smiled wider at that, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

‘Let’s order breakfast, I don’t want to move yet. You’re too comfy.’ He teased, nuzzling into her neck and she giggled, settling down against him and letting him enjoy his nuzzling as much as he liked. ‘You’re so soft.’ He spoke before taking a chance and kissing her neck softly. Y/n just tightened her grip on him and so he did it again, kissing up her neck behind her ear. ‘I’ve been dying to kiss you since I first saw you…tell me that I can?’ He whispered to her and she nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck as he moved to press his lips to hers. He settled a hand on her back as his other rested on her hip, rolling them over so that he was on top of her and her legs came up to wrap around his waist. Martin moved his hand to her exposed thigh and pushed it up her soft skin, hearing her moan. He pushed his hips up, grinding against her clothed cunt, her moan turning to a soft whimper and he could feel his cock harder than ever rubbing against her.

‘Don’t stop…Fuck Martin!’ She threw her head back as he trailed his lips back to her neck, sucking and nipping at her skin teasingly before she humped her hips up against him hard. His hands grabbed onto her thighs and he pulled her legs around him tighter, grinding down into her harder than before, feeling the needy mess that she was becoming.

‘You feel so good Princess.’ He mumbled, her hands tangling into his hair and pulling his lips back to hers. He licked her bottom lip and she parted them to let him in, his tongue tasting her for the first time and moaning loudly. He pulled at her dress and her hands moved to yank it over her head, leaving her in her panties which he got a quickly view of, enjoying her exposed tits before she pulled him back into the kiss. He humped his hips against her harder, her legs tightening before she released him again to pull her panties off and dragging his boxers down enough to free his leaking cock which instantly pressed to her slit, the head rubbing against her clit hard enough for her to cry out against his lips. ‘Fuck, you’re so wet…’ he mumbled, never pulling away from her lips. ‘Please? Let me inside? I’ll fuck you so good Princess…fuck! Let Daddy make you feel good…’ He lifted her waist to press harder to her wet slit, her pussy lips parting for his cock as he rubbed against her deliciously.

‘Want you inside me…please?’ She whimpered and he moved to take ahold of his cock, pressing against her hole and pushing into her in one deep movement.

‘Oh Fuck! So tight…perfect fucking pussy…’ he thrust up into her roughly, his tongue licking up her jaw to the shell of her ear while she continued whimpering like a needy whore. ‘Been thinking about this pussy since the moment I first saw you…I knew you’d be so tight for me! All fucking mine now, aren’t you baby?’

‘Yes! Yours Martin! All yours! Oh God!’

‘You wanna cum for me, baby? Wanna cream on my cock? Gonna squeeze me so tight while I fill this little cunt, aren’t you?’

She whimpered, nodding into his neck frantically. ‘Yes! Yes, please?! Please let me cum?!’ Y/n begged, Martin feeling the tears falling from her eyes onto the skin of his shoulder. God, she’s so desperate, he knew she was perfect but his girl is a little slut too. His perfect little slut to fuck and fill over and over.

‘Cum for me baby, cum for me while I fill your cunt full of me! Gonna fuck you until you’re leaking around my cock, my messy little pussy!’

‘Yes! Yours, g-gonna-Fuck! Oh God!’ She cried out quite loudly as she clamped down on his cock like the most beautiful vice grip he’s ever felt. A jolt of pleasure shot up his spine as he came, burying his cock as deep into her as he could and filling her womb with everything he had for her, immediately praying that it takes.

‘Such a little good girl for me. Gonna let your Daddy cum in this hole over and over again until your belly starts growing my baby. Fuck!’ He was still hard, not willing to stop fucking her yet now that he has her. He’s been waiting for her for too long.

‘M-Martin! Oh fuck! What-‘

‘I’m not done with you yet Princess. Told you your gonna be leaking by the time I’m finished!’ He tucked his arms under her back and lifted her up as he sat back on his knees, thrusting up into her body.

‘Oh God! So d-deep! Please-‘

‘Don’t worry Princess, I’m gonna fill you up again. Your womb will be stuffed full of me, I promise! Gonna give you my babies!’ She cried out, pleasure mixing with the pain as he rammed his cock so deep it hurt, fucking her harder than she thought possible but it was so perfect she never wanted him to stop. ‘That’s it Y/n! This body is all mine now, this tight little hole is gonna take everything I give her and beg me for more! Fuck! Take My Cum!’

‘Ahh! Too much!’

‘Never too much for my pussy, she takes everything I give her. Takes Me So-Ahh! Good! Fuck!’ He growled deep in his chest, one arm around her waist and the other holding her shoulder as he pulled her down onto his cock hard and shot his cum straight up into her body.

Y/n had never let anyone cum inside of her before and she never could have imagined someone filling her so much but she could feel the stretch from how full she was and it hurt but it felt so good she could only cry as she came on his cock, squirting around him and making a slick mess all over his thighs.

‘Fuck…such a mess you made my love. Did I make you feel so good you needed to squirt all over me?’ She nodded, tears still leaking from her eyes as he still held her down onto his cock, not about to move from her body. ‘You’re all mine now. I’m gonna fill you with my cum everyday until you are crying in pleasure.’ He promised, pressing his lips to hers softly.

Martin laid her back onto the bed and stayed deep inside of her, his cock kissing her womb perfectly after having battered it painfully with his cock and forcing his jizz into her. He kissed over her face sweetly as she began to drift back off to sleep after the physical exertion.

‘That’s my good girl, you go to sleep. When you wake up we’ll talk all about moving you in here with me. Gonna take good care of my girl and my baby she’ll soon be carrying.’ He swore, kissing her cheek softly before pulling the blankets up over the both of them.

After nearly a year he finally has her just the way he wants her and he will never let her out of his grasp again.

Aemond T. Masterlist

[sacramental-asmr]

it KILLS me that I'll never be able to watch Salad Days

EWAN MITCHELL + COLORS (in/sp) Will in Salad Days

[hotdaesthetic]

Showing the Aemond and Sauron wallpaper I customized. The terms were "Something gothic."

[theboleyngirlx]

these DIVAS!

[blxxdsex]

"Give what you like." - Ettore x Reader.

warnings: ettore is already a complete warning, smut, mention of abuse and violence, breath control, facesitting.

The walls bleed blue, like the sorrow of pills, like the void of the loneliest hearts. The expanse, vast as the ocean or the sky, stretches into infinity. Here, on this ship, blue colors the sleepless nights. Even with those pills that dissolve beneath your tongue, your thoughts drift to the inescapable reality: you're trapped in a floating prison, with no freedom to depart at will.

Blue seeps into your skin when the silence of the ship descends. Blue stains the gloves of Dibs' whore as she violates your flesh. Blue, it recalls the sweets of childhood, when tongues turned blue, before life became this endless wave of despair. Blue, it paints his eyes, the most haunting, lifeless gaze you've ever witnessed.

You learned not to judge from the moment you peered into the mirror and beheld a creature of many layers, a monster in your own eyes. Here, in this floating prison, each soul is stained with guilt, perhaps deserving every torment, every fry of the brain. You pondered if this ordeal might mend you, ignite some dormant part, and finally dispel the apathy as your body gasped for its last breath. It was merely a fleeting thought, drifting through your mind much like you drift now, only to be swallowed by a black hole, where, with grim irony, your fates converge.

There was one, in particular, whose gaze trailed you like that of a shark. His eyes were like those of the sea's monarchs, great predators who never close their eyes, even in sleep they glide through the waters, for to stop is to invite death. Ettore echoed the sharks you encountered at the aquarium with your father on that sweltering summer day, blue candy clinging to your tongue, refusing to let go despite the sugar's overwhelming sweetness, threatening to overwhelm you. And you did succumb, didn't you? You shut down, disconnecting from the world as you often did.

It didn't take long to decipher his true nature, despite the confidentiality shrouding his files. His crimes were a secret, but you weren't naive. The way his pupils widened when you wore tank tops for the exercises Dibs made mandatory, the slight furrow of his brows as sweat glistened on your bodies, hair clinging to your skin. You noticed his eyes roaming over each woman on the ship, without a hint of subtlety. His lips would glisten with spit, the lines on his forehead would tighten, his hands would clench into fists, restraining himself from unleashing. You saw the beast within him, lurking beneath the geometric shadows of his tattoos.

He noticed you too, but for different reasons. The girls like to taunt him, don't they? Tempting him, almost coaxing him to lose control before reminding him how much of a freak he is. It's their way to pass the time, knowing their options are limited. But you? What was your angle? Staring back at him like he was your plaything, not the other way around. He saw how often you used the box, perhaps even more than him. And those little smiles when you crossed paths—what was that about? They make him want to smash your head against the ship's metal walls, to crack open that pretty skull and see what madness lies within.

Of course, you should've known better than to provoke him, but he had something you craved. When you were condemned to sever your father in half, gouge out his eyes, and dismember him into tiny pieces, stuffing him into garbage bags to abandon on some desolate road, you knew you were headed for the electric chair or a lethal injection. And with that? With that shit, you felt alive, which is the cruelest irony. Brains that don't produce healthy cells have this, they say—a chemical imbalance. The same thing that sends you into blackouts, and when you wake up, you're soaked in your mistakes. Your body, it seeks more of every sensation, where a taste isn't just a taste but a form of life, of absolute nothingness. You don't know how to like something; no, you become it.

And so, your dreams became haunted by his eyes once you understood what he truly was. It should have repelled you, turned your stomach, and in part it did, but the larger part, the louder part, whispered otherwise. With the lights on at night, you drifted into sleep, sore and still bleeding from the cold instruments Dibs had used on you. In your dreams, you found yourself with that blue candy between your lips, sliding down your tongue as you closed your eyes. When you opened them again, it was Ettore's cock that was now sliding down your tongue, entering your throat, ravaging it with all he had. You saw his neck arching back, the triangle of his tattoo moving with his skin, and you sucked him hard, rolling your tongue until his silence broke, the shadow of a man turning into a cacophony of moans. Until finally, the salty taste of his cum hits your throat, mingling with blood and the sweetness that somehow lingered.

Waking up, you found yourself panting, the sensation lingering in the back of your throat. The silence here always feels so fragile at this moment, the nights far from peaceful, you know they are. Still disoriented from the drugs coursing through you, your feet met the cold metal of the ship, and feeling the pulse of your own body, you knew sleep would offer no respite. For that very reason, you rose and stumbled to the box, your nightly ritual now.

You didn't know how much time had passed, not until you finally reached your release, perhaps after the fourth time with your own fingers. Your hair clung to your face, and your legs felt like they might buckle at any moment. Pressing the button, the door opened, and after those orgasms, you had to lean against the doorframe to keep from collapsing, eyes closed. And you felt it, the eyes on you. When you opened your eyes, there he was, in nothing but loose boxers, his fingers hooked into the waistband, his gaze fixed on you as if you were the first woman he'd ever laid eyes on. You watched him take steps toward you, but you didn't move, standing still as he slowly closed the distance until he was less than a step away from your body.

"Excuse me." Ettore murmured, his voice rough, throat dry from the prolonged silence. And you realized, maybe this was one of the first times you'd even heard him speak.

"Why should I?" Your response was swift and sharp, though you couldn't mask the fatigue in your voice after your self-indulgence.

Ettore's eyes narrowed at you, your gazes locking. Both your pupils and his were dilated, staring each other down. You noticed his breathing grow heavier; it felt like you were challenging him. Eye to eye, it was like a shark confronting an orca, and when could that ever end well? Never. He took a step forward as if he was about to pounce, but your hand rose, and your index finger pressed against the bridge of his nose. You ensured it was the very finger that had been buried deep inside you moments ago. Ettore froze as you traced down his nose with gentle pressure, and taking a deep breath, he caught the scent of your release. It was like casting blood into the ocean.

He placed both hands on either side of the doorframe, bracing himself and effectively trapping you. His eyes closed as he inhaled even deeper. A small, predatory smile curled his lips, contrasting with the cold air touching his skin. Your finger lingered in front of his face, and you saw him tilt his head forward, seeking to inhale your scent more profoundly. His cock, hard from the moment he entered, twitched in his boxers, brushing against your belly due to the close proximity. Glancing down, you saw it throbbing beneath the fabric as if it were being caressed. Your eyes returned to his face, seeing his lips parted in what looked like a silent moan; it had been so long since he'd been this close to a pussy, the mere scent was enough to strip him of all reason. His grip on the doorframe tightened, his hot breath fanning your face.

"Give me what I want," you whispered, retracing the path up his nose, "and I'll give you what you like." A promise, a pact, something tangible in this cold, wretched ship if he could just resist the urge to tear you apart right then and there.

His head tilts back slightly, and his hips push forward, attempting to press more firmly against your stomach, but you pull back just enough to deny him the pressure. Even then, you notice when his breathing completely loses its composure, especially when you move closer, and in a deliberate, almost playful act, blow hot air from your lips onto the side of his neck. As if that were the final straw, the tip of his cock, resting against your stomach, becomes soaked, and when you look down, you witness his release starting to seep through his boxers, almost breaking through the fabric. Your already exhausted walls, as if they hadn't had enough, have the audacity to start pulsing, watching him cum all over without you even touching him.

"Is something going on here?" Monte's recognizable voice shatters the spell, his presence right behind you. Looking over Ettore's shoulder, you see him observing both of you with his arms crossed over his chest.

Your eyes return to Ettore, and he meets your gaze, his cheeks flushed, lips still slightly parted. Your hand falls to your side, and his hands slowly release the doorframe; now, it isn't just your knees that feel like they might buckle. From the look in his eyes, if Monte hadn't arrived, you would have been in serious trouble. And in a twisted way, you almost wish he hadn't shown up. Passing by Ettore, you offer him a brief smile before your steps take on a carefree quality, while he visibly trembles from head to toe. He wants to sink his teeth into your throat, slit it with his bare teeth, and fuck that hole, just to teach you not to be such a filthy cock tease.

"No." Your voice slices through the air as you stop beside Monte, not missing the chance to glance back at Ettore, who doesn't even turn around. "Nothing happening."

With those words, you made your way back through the ship, your steps silent until you threw yourself onto your bed. They're always watching him, aren't they? Maybe waiting for him to unleash the beast within, and well, he will. Eventually, he will. And you'll be there to suck up every last drop if he even lets you live to share the tale afterward. That night, you didn't sleep, your eyes fixed on the entrance to the bunker, waiting under the blue lights for those predatory eyes to appear, but they never did. And you were left pulsing with need until the next morning.

What was already a silence became even more profound in the days that followed, and the eyes that had already consumed you before now seemed to gnaw at you with all their might. He was everywhere yet nowhere at the same time. He appeared to be biding his time, calculating. It was a stark contrast to the impulsiveness you thought he possessed, but no, it seemed like he was intent on unsettling you. You were no longer sleeping, and not even the drugs Dibs gave you could coax you into slumber. Your pupils were tightly constricted, always fixed on the hallway at night, expecting him to come for you at any moment.

Life and the artificial air continued to fill your lungs. Today, you spent the day with Dibs. She doesn't let go of her obsession, clinging to the bone even though she knows damn well that this baby thing won't happen. Not even the fucking lives already formed could survive this hell, who does she think is going to be born here? It was a total farce. Sometimes, it seemed like just an excuse to tear us apart from the inside, she must get some twisted pleasure from it, that bitch of a doctor. I'm sure she's the type who'd suck off semen samples; she looks like she would.

Being the last to leave her room, you were practically dragging yourself through the ship. Your limbs were heavy, pain radiating throughout your body, your groin nearly purple from being spread on that stretcher for so long, and the sleepless nights only adding to the weight. You were still bleeding and needed a shower, and that's exactly what you went for. At that moment, you could at least have a decent fucking shower. Discarding the orange uniform, you turned the shower knob and felt the hot water cascade over your body.

From head to toe, it felt like standing under a waterfall if you closed your eyes and had a good imagination. Scrubbing every inch with that neutral soap, it felt like you were cleansing your very soul. A freshness, even as your skin started to redden from the high water temperature. Closing your eyes, you rested one hand on the wall, tilting your head back to let the water hit your face directly, and it was only then that your breath was cut off by a hand covering your mouth and nose, the heat on your back not from the water alone.

"One sound and I'll snap your pretty neck in two." Your breathing quickened even further as you recognized the voice whispering in your ear. He might not speak much, but when he does, he's unforgettable, isn't he?

It felt like your entire body had been cast into the fucking flames, ignited. There was that sweetness again, the sensation of losing control of your body while every nerve was vibrantly alive. His free arm wrapped completely around you, pressing your back against what seemed to be his bare chest, and you could feel his erection against your lower back, still concealed. If he hadn't been muffling your mouth with his palm, he would have seen the smile that crept onto your lips. But just as quickly, you snapped your head back, hitting his face with a force that seemed to split your own skull. His hands left you as he staggered backward, and you turned swiftly, advancing to land another punch while he was still reeling from the headbutt. As expected, his body fell to the ground, and this was your fucking chance. Straddling him directly over his face, you made sure to press each of your knees onto his hands, making him grunt in pain.

"A gentle woman for a gentle man." Your voice was almost spat out as you looked down at him. That feeling surged up your thighs. Alive.

His nose was bleeding, his eyes dark. He didn't care about the pain for long, not when your pussy was so close to his face. Shoving your hands into his hair, you gripped tightly, putting your full weight on his face and feeling his tongue dart out almost immediately to start licking you thoroughly, every little inch, from your entrance to your clit to your lips. A wide smile spread across your lips, a loud sound escaping them as your head threw back. Your hips began to move violently against his face, not satisfied with just his mouth. You slid your arousal down his nose, down his chin, circling your hips until you even let it drip down his cheeks. His movements grew even more frantic beneath you, his head moving from side to side, trying to keep up with the rhythm you set.

"Oh, fuck!" you found yourself almost screaming, feeling his tongue delve into you, rolling and searching, swallowing what dripped from you. "Don't stop, don't stop..." the words tumbled out of your lips, over and over.

Looking down, you saw his face completely red, the blood running down his chin mingling with your taste, his eyebrows furrowed in ecstasy. His hands started to struggle to free themselves from under your knees, probably because he was running out of air. This was quite evident in how his legs also began to thrash beneath you. This only spurred your movements as you rode his face with even greater fervor, rolling your hips and letting moans escape your lips, fingers tangled in his hair, not allowing him to escape a single inch of your skin. And it's not like his tongue had stopped; in fact, it seemed to work even harder, and when his teeth grazed your flesh, your eyes finally rolled back. The strength drained from your body as your climax hit you like a powerful wave, your hands bracing on the floor to keep your torso upright.

Without giving you time to really recover, Ettore spun you around, your back slamming against the cold floor. His hand found your face, his closed fist connecting with it and sending you sprawling to the side, legs still trembling from the orgasm that had just consumed you. Turning you head to look at him, a smile appeared on your lips, your teeth marked with the blood that had just come out, and it seemed almost too much for him. Shoving down his orange pants and underwear, Ettore freed his cock, swollen and soaked, looking like it was ready to climax right there. Pulling your thighs apart with both hands, he dragged you closer and aligned himself with your entrance.

"Scream and I'll break your jaw." The warning was clear in his tone. Well, you were probably already loud enough, and if someone came to check on you, they wouldn't even ask questions seeing him on top of you.

Without waiting for answers, he slammed his hips against yours, thrusting all at once to the hilt. Your insides throbbed, trying to expel him, along with the sharp pain in your already sensitized flesh. Your lips even parted to let out a sound, which was quickly cut off by a strong slap to your face. Your eyes watered, your insides tightening around him even more, making him pause to savor how you were gripping him.

"Filthy whore, making a mess of my cock." His voice was thick with barely contained pleasure, the words followed by a firm thrust that made both of you squirm.

One of his hands rested on the side of your cheek, forcing the other side to the floor, and for a second, you thought your face might split. The other hand moved up to your stomach, applying pressure as he started thrusting with all his might, feeling himself hitting the deepest part of you. Your sounds were muffled by his hand pressing against your face, your hands trying to dig into the bathroom floor, nails breaking to keep yourself steady. Your whole body moved with each violent thrust, the low sounds of your moans filling the room along with the sound of skin slapping against skin. His hand circled your jaw to make you face him before his fist slammed into your face once more, sending sharp pain through you and your body arching off the ground.

Your head turned to face him, the almost evil smile on your lips and his pupils dilating even more with the blood pooling in your mouth. His lips parted completely, his cock inside you twitching at the sight. Gathering the blood, you spat in his direction, watching the liquid mix with his on his cheek. The smile that now appeared on his own lips almost made you cum right there, at that exact moment. Leaning into you and without lessening the impact of his thrusts, he rested both elbows on either side of your head, feeling your breasts bounce as they were pressed against his chest.

"I'm starting to like you," Ettore murmurs, his voice broken by the uneven breathing and the sounds of pleasure he's holding back.

"Say that again and I'll rip your throat open," you reply, turning your face to meet his gaze.

Staring into each other's eyes, both of your smiles are wide, both bloody with the mess that are your faces. You feel the thrusts becoming more erratic, and as you slide your noses together, your lips meet in a messy kiss, neither of you really able to kiss back with the low moans escaping. You feel the tremors start more firmly in your thighs, wrapping them around his waist, trying to bring him closer if it were possible. Your eyes meet, your hands circling his arms and holding on tightly.

"I'm going to cum," Ettore murmurs, and your only response is to go back to trying to devour his lips, involving your teeth in the process.

Feeling his pace get deeper, you knew you were done. Your walls clenched together, tremors taking over your entire body, at the same time Ettore's cock twitched inside you, thrusting shallower as he released all his cum into you. Your lips parted and opened, throwing your breaths into each other's faces, the depths of his blue eyes staring at you until your body stopped twitching completely, your eyes closing with the wave of satisfaction that enveloped your body like a glove.

He breathes heavily above you, pulling away just enough to look down at you, bloody and fucking stupid, your eyes fluttering open to meet his as his thumb circles your cheek in what could have been a gentle caress, spreading the blood already there. The moment is quiet, almost too quiet, broken only by the sound of the shower still running.

"I think you're really going to have to open my throat." His words seem almost lost in your ears, as low as usual.

You were going to answer, but before you could, his fist hit your face, this time sending you into the black hole. When you woke up again, you were in your own bed, and the blue lights were there once again. You tried to get up, but moving your head hurt like hell. Looking down, you were dressed in the shorts and tank top that serve as pajamas here, and if it weren't for the pain in your core and on your face, you might have thought it was just a dream. But no, it wasn't.

Lying down again completely, you stare at the hallway. It seems empty, but it isn't. You feel it isn't, like something tangible. It's there, watching, maybe waiting. And all you do is close your eyes and drift off into the most peaceful sleep you've had since being on this ship. The blue lights no longer flood your eyelids tonight.

[livmondcole]

My favorite photos of Ewan in 2O24 🤍