#Fuck my wifely duties. I’m out.

[nighthawkes]

once again i am here to lament that the titular Bishop’s Wife of the 1947 film did not get dicked down by angel Cary Grant

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

The Reader gets jealous/upset because Sukuna gets Concubines, with a happy ending though. pleaseeeee

Wish I didn’t care

Tags: true form!Sukuna x fem!Reader, king!Sukuna, royal au (?), angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending i promise

An: Ooo, this was such a good idea. Thank you for requesting it from me!! I hope it’s everything you wanted!!

Sukuna never felt the need to give you a title for being in his life. To him, titles were superficial… There wasn’t a title in the world that could explain or encompass the complexities of his relationship with you.

However, you, coming from the mortal realm, wanted a title. It’s not that you wanted the power that was associated with being the betrothed of the King of Curses. You just wanted to feel.. irreplaceable to him.

So, to make you happy, you were his wife.

Kings rarely ever are allowed the luxury of marrying for love. Most kings marry daughters of other powerful kings to create allies between nations. However, Sukuna didn’t need allies. He didn’t need to marry for power when he had more power than he knew what to even do with.

Everything was simply child’s play for him. He even stopped trying to conquer the mortal realm because it was just too damn easy for him. The “sorcerers” could barely even put up a fight. It was embarrassing.

Life was truly becoming boring for him.

That was, until a female curse was delivered straight to his chamber. He was confused and honestly pissed that Uraume would simply guide this harlot into his chambers without his permission. Only you were granted such luxuries.

He was leisurely splayed in his bed with no cloth to cover himself. He truly appreciated the concept of being completely in his own skin at all times, and he often encouraged you to do the same. Though, he also learned to appreciate your more modest approach. You didn’t have to show any skin to get Sukuna riled up.

“State your purpose.” His voice was low and menacing as he spoke to the woman. He slipped his robes on over his shoulders, tying it in the front so he was no longer exposing himself.

“My father sends his regards. Says that a newly wedded king deserves a ‘fresh’ concubine.” The girl spoke with no humility towards him.

Sukuna’s face twisted in disgust that her dad would even suggest such a thing. He was even more put off that she described herself as ‘fresh’ as if she were a type of vegetable in the garden.

“Your father can kindly go fuck himself. I’m not interested.” He responds coldly, and his large palm grabs onto her shoulder with the intention of throwing her out of his chambers. He knew that if you saw her here, you’d probably be devastated.

“My lord-“

“I am not your anything. You address me as Lord or King, but make no mistake. I am not your lord.” He rudely cuts her off, not letting her think she has any sort of claim to him.

“Okay, Lord Sukuna, when’s the last time she’s fulfilled her wifely duties? I can see she’s not in here tending to you now, right? She’d probably feel grateful that you’re being satisfied around the clock.” The concubine’s voice was like a purr, and she looked up at him with eyes that’d rival a siren’s.

And for a split second, Sukuna almost considers her offer.

“You’ll never believe it, Kuna!” Your happy voice fills the air, and the door swings open to reveal you holding a small flower in your hand. “I got a jasmine to bl-“ Your eyes fall upon to scene in front of you.

Sukuna’s towering over an unfamiliar woman. His hand is touching her neck and shoulder area, while she has her hand leisurely pressed against his bicep.

“Who’s.. this?” You quietly ask, and immediately, Sukuna can feel a strange feeling pour into him. It feels like… guilt? He regrets even momentarily entertaining the idea about this harlot occupying his bed.

“Nobody-“

“Oh my lady, it’s nice to meet you. I apologize. Lord Sukuna and I were just getting aquatinted with each other since we’ll be seeing each other a lot from now on.” The serpent of a female cuts him off, and he immediately realizes just what this is. Whichever king decided to send her is hoping to ruin his marriage. She’s quite literally a snake in his garden, trying to ward his wife away from him.

“I don’t… understand.” The way your voice sounds so small. The small pout upon your lips. The way the flower you were once carrying with such confidence is now sagging in your hand. Fuck. Sukuna felt like a complete imbecile.

“Oh, come on now. You know he has needs that are beyond your abilities. I’ll lay with him when you’re too-“

“Enough.” Sukuna’s voice snaps. His teeth grit together as he practically drags the woman out of his chambers. “Go fuck off for a while. I’ll deal with you later.” The door immediately slams in her face.

After a moment of trying to comprehend what just happened and how it all happened so quickly, Sukuna slowly turns to you. It feels like a gut punch once he sees the tears brimming in your eyes.

“That wasn’t…”

“You took up a concubine?” You ask in a sniffle. Your hands are barely even holding the jasmine that’s you were once so excited to show him. Flowers rarely ever bloom in Sukuna’s desolate kingdom, but with hard work and determination, you had gotten a jasmine to bloom in his kingdom.

“No, she was sent to me. I didn’t seek her out.” He tries to dispel the claims while he slowly approaches you. His chest aches as he watches you take a step back away from him. “Do not cower from me, woman.”

“Was I not good enough? Was I not doing enough for you..? I thought… I thought it was good, b-but I can try harder.” Your voice is so shaky, and you won’t even look him in the eye. What has he done?

“Silence. You will not speak of yourself like that to me.” Sukuna orders, and he takes another step forward. You take another step back with another sniffle. Your tears are streaming down your cheeks.

“Please…” The word sounds foreign on his tongue. He’s never ever pleaded for anything in his life. He could simply take what he wants, but he doesn’t want to hurt his delicate flower. He wants her to seek out comfort in him. “Please don’t cower. It was not like that. She showed up at my door, spoke of lies and filth, and I was trying to throw her out when you walked in.”

“So you didn’t even con..consider taking her on as a concubine?” You ask while you rub the tears away with the back of your hands. Hopefully, this was all just a poorly timed miscommunication.

Sukuna takes a moment before responding. He has two options. He could tell you a white lie that would instantly comfort you, but it would be a lie. Or he could tell you the truth and face the consequences of his actions.

“It was one moment of weakness.” He replies carefully.

He instantly wishes he just lied from the way your face immediately twisted in disappointment and pure hurt. The jasmine falls from your hands, and your footsteps trail away from his chambers, leaving him dumbfounded.

Sukuna is immediately on your trail, unable to let you be. He needs to fix this. His dear wife is upset, and it’s all his fault.

A pair of hands slither up his arm as he walks. He already knows who’s touching him based off the nasty feeling from their contact. “My lord, let her be. She needs to-“

“Dismantle.” The concubine’s body drops to the floor in two, split directly at her waist. He had warned her already about referring to him as her lord. She didn’t deserve to speak of you so carelessly, and she didn’t deserve to live after causing this rift in his marriage.

Sukuna continues on his hunt for you without another hitch, leaving the harlot’s body right where she once stood for one of the servants to clean up.

He searches for you in all your usual spots: the gardens, the kitchen, the library, the rooftop. You’re no where to be found. You don’t want to be found. He starts to wonder around his perimeter. The longer he goes without finding you; the more his heart starts to race.

Did you leave him? Did he lose you for good?

The thought of not having his delicate flower by his side makes his body feel ill. You must’ve placed some sort of binding curse on him, but he didn’t necessarily mind.

He’s close to waging war when he finally sees your small human body tucked underneath a weeping willow on a bed of grass. His body moves on it’s own: running to you. When’s the last time he’s ran like this?

Crouching over you, he can see no visible injuries on your body, but he knows he’s wounded your heart with his foolish actions. How could he ever have a wandering eye when you were the real prize?

His four arms carefully scoop you up and cradle your body as he takes a seat underneath the willow. Your poor cheeks are flushed and tear stained. Your eyes and lips are so puffy. You must’ve tired yourself out from crying.

“I’m sorry, flower.” He whispers softly, even if your eyes are still resting. He pulls your body closer to his chest, and he contemplates when he started becoming so soft for you.

A part of him hates it. That small unconscious voice of his telling him that he shouldn’t concern himself with the feelings of a mere mortal, but the bigger part of him knows that he can’t just ignore you. He cares far too much for you.

“Kuna..?” You murmur as your hands rub your eyes. You’re immediately met with remembering just why you had fallen asleep. “I do not wish to see you right now.”

Sukuna chuckles quietly from your defiant little comment. It reminds him of when you first arrived to his estate. “Then close your eyes.” He simply states as one of his hands start to comb through your hair. “Woman, tell me what to do to fix this.”

You shift your gaze away from him with a small huff. If he wasn’t so much bigger than you, you’d try to wiggle away from him. However, you know it is of no use. “I don’t know, Kuna.” Your words are sharp and still so full of emotion. “Imagine how you’d feel if I told you I contemplated sleeping with someone else… in a moment of weakness.”

The sheer thought of it has Sukuna’s anger burning up like an inferno. You’re his delicate flower. No one would even know how to take care of you like he can. His arms subtly tighten around your frame. “I’d kill every man you gaze at.”

“Well, men can rest easy because I only have eyes for you.” You mutter while rolling your eyes. “I love you so much that the thought of being with someone else repulses me, and it… just really hurts that you don’t feel the same.”

“Flower, I took you for granted. It was a brief moment of contemplation, but I instantly decided against it. I did not desire her in the slightest.” Sukuna tries to explain, and his hand gently brushes against your soft cheek.

“You still don’t deny that you don’t feel the same for me.” You respond quietly, still not giving him the satisfaction of you looking at him.

“You are everything to me. I will not lose sight of what’s important again.”

“Kuna.” You finally look up at him, and you frown slightly. Sukuna secretly adores the little nicknames you have adorned him with, but he’d never admit it.

“What is it, woman?” He asks, titling his head to the side a bit to get a better look at your face. You’re so pretty in his lap like this.

“Do you love me?” You quietly ask, even if you can already hear his voice telling you ‘do not ask questions you don’t want answers to’… because even if he’s the incarnate of evil, Sukuna will not lie. Liars are weak cowards who can’t get jobs done by being upfront. Sukuna isn’t afraid of what the truth is.

Your husband contemplates your question for a moment. He thinks about how disgusting that wannabe concubine was. He thinks about how you preoccupy his mind majority of the time. He thinks about the weird mix of feelings he has felt today in your absence.

“What I feel for you… is probably the closest to love that I’ll ever get.” Sukuna responds, carefully choosing his words. “You, my flower, are the only thing that keeps me grounded to the mortal plains.”

You give him the best smile you can muster despite the disappointment that you feel since he won’t tell you that he loves you. You suppose you have no one to blame other than yourself. Sukuna told you when he married you not to get your hopes up for love, but you still can’t help but crave that sort of affection from him.

“I don’t like seeing you upset, flower.” He speaks tenderly as his thumb brushes against your bottom lip. “If I could, I’d snap my fingers and assure you that I love you whole heartedly. It just not in my genetic code.”

“I know… I’m grateful for your effort at least.” You murmur as you wrap your arms around his neck.

His arms wrap around you, cradling you to his chest. He inhales deeply, savoring your sweet scent that he enjoys so much. “Am I forgiven, woman?”

“Mmm, no.” You smile cheekily in his embrace, and Sukuna chuckles heartily.

“Oh? Is someone going to use this blunder to her advantage?” When you nod in his shoulder, Sukuna lays back against the soft pillowy grass. “That’s my girl. Go on. Make me work for your forgiveness.”

On a completely unrelated note, Sukuna had that harlot’s body mailed back to her father as a ‘thank you’ for sending a whore to his kingdom.

[haetero]

all mine.

PAIRING: aemond targaryen x afab!reader. WORDCOUNT: 1.9k

CW: jealous sex, mating press (hehe), unprotected sex, breeding kink!!, creampie, kind of angsty but its porn w a little bit of plot. use of high valyrian + a sprinkle of aegon bashing! mdni <3

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this was originally a 500 word drabble and then... i went a bit nuts.. if you enjoyed the fic, pls lmk! not proofread we die like literally everyone lol.

ABSTRACT:

aemond gets caught up with his royal duties and finds himself spending less time with his precious lady wife. determined to take matters in your hands, you make some silly choices involving another prince, which only makes things worse. till it gets better :)

this time, you think you deserved it.

what begun as a harmless jest to get aemond to pay attention to you quickly led to letting aegon drunkenly sweet talk you at supper. and yes, pretending to flirt with your husband’s brother in front of him might not have been the best decision, but you were just having fun right?

wrong.

you were perhaps the stupidest woman in all the seven kingdoms. really, there was no rationale for choosing to engage with aegon for more than ten minutes at a time and yet here you were, ‘giggling’ at his piss poor jokes and pretending to listen to his made up tales of something you couldn’t care to remember.

you could only chastise your past self for your poor decision making skills as aegon whispered into your ear, far too close to your liking. he stunk of the rich, dornish wine served earlier in the evening and his eyes lazily stared at the expanse of your chest. but regardless of whether he was drunk or not, aegon had enough wits about him to realise his brother was furious.

a sly grin on aegon’s face, he seemed to understand the predicament you were in and leaned in to plant a wet kiss on your cheek, before loudly announcing his exit with a parting “my lady”, to further enrage aemond.

internally groaning, you waited till aegon left before daring to take a peek at aemond. but he wasn’t even looking at you.

the complete lack of response terrified you. in fact, you’d almost convinced yourself he didn’t care at all, until you noticed his blanching knuckles gripping his silverware. “aemond, i-," you begun.

in an instant, aemond had gotten up out of his seat and finally looked at you with a look in his eyes that only meant one thing. he mumbled out a quick excusal for the pair of you, before extending his arm towards you with a pointed stare.

you were well and truly fucked.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

before you can realise what’s happened, aemond’s dragged you to your shared chambers at a pace you’re struggling to keep up with. quickly dismissing your maids, he shuts the doors firmly, before turning his back to you and shucking off his outer clothing. you dejectedly do the same, struggling out of your dress. you leave them in a heap on the floor, stripping down till you’re in your underthings.

the sounds of aemond changing have quietened down, spurring you to take a peek at him. he’s left in his pants; his broad shoulders and back on display for you to admire. maybe he'll listen to you if you explain yourself, you delude yourself. tiptoeing over to where he stands, you attempt a sheepish half smile, grabbing onto his bare arm to direct his attention to you.

“please, i’m sorry, i wasn’t thinking, i just missed you,” you start, attempting to make eye contact with aemond. he’s yet to talk to you, pointedly ignoring you. he simply stands there, jaw clenched, refusing to acknowledge you any further.

you feel stupid, really. doing all this to gain the attention of the man standing in front of you and even then, he doesn’t even spare you a glance. you wait for a few more seconds before deciding to save yourself the embarrassment. with a sigh, you turn back to your shared bed and sit yourself down.

you rush to unpin your hair, readying yourself for sleep. the dull throb of want in your stomach has you frowning but you know the only person who could satisfy you is aemond. in your distracted state, you don’t see that aemond’s turned back to face you.

“do you take me for a fool?” you freeze, not expecting that of all questions. you start to respond when he cuts you off with a glare. aemond huffs out a curse and walks over to stand in between your legs. a part of you think he looks majestic from this view, but you’re quick to silence your thoughts as he slightly lowers himself till he’s level with you.

“you missed me, so you thought it best to what? throw yourself at my brother?” the affronted look in your eyes tells aemond he’s wrong but he’s not feeling very charitable as you try to come up with right thing to say. “and you thought i’d just let him have you?”

“no! i swear, i was being childish aemond,” you try to reason with him. the longer you think about it, the faster you realise how childish you really were. but it doesn’t change your intentions. you were unsatisfied and tired. but you also hadn’t been this close to aemond without someone else being nearby in a while. the dull throbbing sensation in your cunt was starting to spread and you fought the urge to rip your underthings off and let aemond have his way with you.

“if you wanted something, all you had to do was tell me, not run off to aegon,” he muses, his right arm coming up to trace the veins in your neck. aemond can feel the way your breath stutters; he takes note of the way your lips quiver and fingers curl up slightly at his words. you not-so-subtly push your thighs together, trying to alleviate some of your lust by yourself.

a satisfied grin curls at his lips and aemond, finally, leans into the slope of your neck. you shiver at the feather-like sensation of his lips pressing into your skin, grabbing onto his arm to steady yourself before he pushes you onto your back. “aemond, i need only you,” you shyly mumble, before reaching up on your elbows to undo the clasp of his eye patch.

aemond lets you do as much before throwing it behind him, fixing you with a lust-filled gaze that has you whimpering within a second. he leans over you, and makes a show out of dragging the fabric of your underthings down till he’s rid of them, throwing them to the side. you’re shaking as you watch him eye your cunt with a starving look.

calloused hands grab at the fat of your thighs, kneading the soft skin there before pushing them to your chest. you mewl as cold air fans over your wet cunt, catching the way aemond eyes your hole greedily twitching around nothing. “this is what you wanted, right?”

“yes, yes, please,” you beg. if you weren’t so desperate already, you would have gagged at the sound of your whiny tone. but aemond seems to like your desperation. aemond undoes the string of his pants, before palming himself with a squeeze that has him sighing in relief. your mouth waters at the sight before you.

aemond gives himself a moment before he climbs over you, his frame gently pushing onto your knees in the position you’re in. your eyes flutter shut at the sensation of his warmth enveloping you.

“no, look at me, ābrazȳrys,” your silver haired lover grunts, as he goes to drag his cockhead over your slit. “i should get aegon to pleasure your whorish cunt instead.”

your immediate protests brings a smug grin to aemond’s face. of course, he would never let his brother anywhere near the ethereal sight beneath him, but seeing the tortured look on your face brings him a sick sense of pride. he plays with you like this for a moment, rubbing his cockhead over and over your clit till you’re nearly crying out in want.

after what feels like a lifetime, he decides to push into you. aemond intently watches the way his cock catches at the rim of your pussy before he slams into you. your resulting gasp has aemond’s chest tightening as he loses himself to the feeling of your walls clenching around him immediately.

letting out a strangled moan of your name, he sets a brutal pace from the get-go, ploughing forward until you’re clawing at his neck and shoulders for a reprieve. you’re a quivering mess under him, a mix of moans and cries escaping you. you can feel him everywhere.

a light flush rises on aemond’s cheeks and upper chest, a pink hue that matches the fine dresses you might wear to a banquet or a tourney. your teary eyes trace the faint red lines peaking up on his broad shoulders, evidence of your passion that has your core clenching tighter around him. aemond catches your stare, mouth agape in a euphoric state of mind and pushes your knees down even further, if it was possible.

his wife, his lover, his, his, only his.

"it's okay, sweetling," he vows, fat cock bullying your walls as he moulds himself into you. he bends down to leave a path of kisses trailing down your neck, assuming a steady yet punishing pace into your sopping core. "for me, remember? you can take it for me, right?" aemond groans, drunk on the way your pussy sucks him in, eyes squeezed shut in the pleasure you both share.

leaning back, aemond watches you grip the sheets tightly, he feels the way you soak his cock every time he rocks into your pussy. you've gone half mad, tongue lolling out as you chant his name as a mindless mantra. he drags your knees down to instead wrap around his hips, bringing you closer to plant wet kisses down your neck, nipping at the salty skin. you keen into his ear at the change of position, untangling your hands from the sheets to cling tightly to aemond.

"feel good, love?" he murmurs, trailing his arm down till it lights presses onto your stomach as he drives his cock back into you. "tonight's the night i'm filling you up. that way, my fool of a brother will know to stay away from you.”

you don’t even think you’re making sense as you blabber your agreement. you want, no, you need him to give you his heir. you need him to drive himself further into you till you feel him in your chest, in your heart.

the thought of a miniature aemond targaryen running around has your heart swelling in your chest; the life you’ve always wanted but never let yourself dream of for too long. your lives were far too cruel for such a precious being to be born into it, yet aemond seems hellbent on making it come true as he bullies his cock further and further into your cunt.

aemond slows to a dangerous grind and bends down to capture your lips, his lean torso catches on your clit as you arch up into his mouth. "aemond pl-please, i want it," you whine, your hips buck as his languid thrusts reach a spot deeper than you thought possible. "you're mine," he groans into the heat of your mouth, skilled fingers come down to rub taut circles on your aching clit. he feels the telltale signs of your trembling walls and your greedy eyes beg him for release.

“fuc-fuck, nyke’m bē konīr,” aemond huffs, feeling your cunt swell around his cock as he rams deeper into you. you’re scrambling to hold onto anything; his shoulders, his wrists, the pillow, the sheets.

when you start twitching around his cock, walls fluttering at a pace aemond can't keep up with, he thinks you're the most divine creature in all the seven kingdoms.

and as you cream around his cock, aemond finds himself pushing himself into you one more time, filling you with his hot seed and the unspoken promise to cherish you for as long as you'd have him.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

high valyrian translations:

ābrazȳrys - wife. nyke’m bē konīr - i’m almost there.

[jamminvroomvroom]

adrenaline, baby.

ln x wife!reader

ahahaha i couldn’t help myself. wrote this at godspeed (20 mins) and i’m not even sorry. not my finest work but i could not care less this is peak brainrot (waving at you @lavenderlando). feral is the only word on my mind at this time. gg lando.

warnings: listen it’s porn with minimal plot. minors dni i am so serious!! 18+, smut, fluff, breeding kink, implied overstimulation, mentions of pregnancy, marriage, it’s just unhinged idk

your back couldn’t have hit the bed soon enough, touch starved bodies moulding into the cloud-like mattress. you’d waited all weekend to get him on top of you, and now that the stress of the race weekend had melted away, you’d been able to put the do not disturb sign to good use.

lando’s adrenaline rush had sent him feral.

he hadn’t stopped touching you since he’d been able to, practically dragging you through the mexican paddock, into the car, through the door of your hotel suite. he’d attended to his race duties and now lando had a wife to attend to.

six months of married bliss meant one thing: a lot of sex in a lot of places. you didn’t know how to keep you hands off of one another, proud of yourselves for making it behind closed doors this time. it meant you could take your time, that he could take you apart just how he liked to, and that’s what he did.

“c’mon, baby. need you nice and ready for me.” lando muttered into your neck, punctuating his words with a kiss below your ear. he had two fingers working in and out of you, curling deliciously against your walls. “did all of those overtakes, and then i did them again. now, m’gonna make you come for me again and again.”

he was a man, possessed.

a strangled cry tore from the back of your throat, zero regard for the neighbouring rooms as you fell apart, spasming into the white bed linen. lando didn’t stop, fucking you through the waves of pleasure until tears pricked your eyes and you were squirming away from him.

there wasn’t a second to recover, his curls tickling your thighs as he slotted between your legs, tongue lapping up the mess he’d just made. your ears were ringing, eyes squeezed shut, thrashing hard before your body dissolved completely under his touch. you couldn’t figure out where the pleasure started and where it ended, all you knew was that your second orgasm was approaching faster than lando has made up all those race positions.

“oh my god.” you repeated over and over like a prayer, blindly tipping over the edge, his tongue stroking your clit while his fingers coaxed you to your second release.

“i’m not done with you, baby. gonna fill you up again, just like you keep asking me to.” lando groaned, scaling up your body. you shuddered at his words, your body set on fire. it was a sort of given, at this point, that you were trying. or, to put it more accurately, not not trying. it did something to you, the idea of him letting loose, not a single barrier between your intertwined bodies, and he loved it as much as you did.

a litter of soothing kisses were placed up your throat, before he reached your lips, his own slotting over yours. it was messy, passionate, quiet whimpers being traded between you as he found his rightful place between your parted thighs. your legs were hooked over his hips, pulling him in, the tip of his cock painting over your folds. and then he was inside of you, slick bodies at one, and a switch in him flipped.

lando went deep, rocking into you like it was the last time. it definitely wouldn’t be. he could have left an imprint of your body in the mattress, holding you down as he ruined you. it was desperate, new urges unlocked in him since you’d started this new venture in the bedroom, no limits. you couldn’t keep up with him, letting him do all the work, just how he liked it. and you fucking loved it.

all you could do was clamp down on him, a beautiful mess at his mercy, his name chanted into the room. everything was hazy, nothing, there was only him and you. you arched into him, clawing at the bronzed, glowing skin of his lean back, eyes rolling in your skull at the way his muscles felt as they tensed under your touch.

“one more for me, baby, one more for now and i’ll give you what you want. gonna make me a daddy?” lando’s breath fanned your face as he spoke, watching with a smirk at the way you absolutely lost it.

you were sobbing when you came, the aftershocks continued by the way you felt him reach his own release. white heat pricked your skin and you collapsed even further into the bed, wrecked beneath him. you were grinning lazily, panting hard, eyes shut from the exhaustion. lando kissed away the tear tracks, residing inside you as you both came down from the high.

the air changed drastically, softer, intimate. he found your lips again, gentle this time, affectionate pecks reviving you.

“you okay, my love?” lando whispered. you breathed a laugh.

“you’re too good to me.” your voice was raspy, your vocal chords shot from a weekend of screaming his name in every possible context. “proud of you, honey.”

lando hummed softly, grateful for your praise. he scanned your face, an angelic glow gracing your features. his beautiful wife.

“gonna get you cleaned up.” he went to roll off of you, but your legs tightened around his waist.

“not yet. wanna stay like this for a minute.” your voice was laced with sleep, and lando couldn’t help but smile.

“this might have been the time, y’know.” lando’s words came out excitedly, unable to contain his delight at the idea of having a family. your family.

“and even if it wasn’t, i don’t mind the free practice.” you teased, but the giddy feeling in the pit of your stomach told you something, and so did the test you took four weeks later.

-

idk what came over me idk what happened lol. bye.

[starcrossed-lov3rz]

The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 1

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Series: Series Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, mild smut (at the end), threesome 

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra

Words: ~1.9K

Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!

Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

“God my head fucking hurts,” you whine, sitting up to rub your eyes. “That wine really hit out of nowhere.” Your head pounds, it has to be part of a hangover. The last thing you remember before drinking yourself to sleep was getting fired. Your boss hadn’t even had the decency to let you know face to face. An HR representative and your manager requested a zoom call at the end of the day and politely told you to ‘clean your desk.’

After nearly three years of work with the same accounting firm, it was weird to not wake up early and head into the office. The worst part really was that your performance was still stellar, the firm was just hemorrhaging money after several questionable expansions. 

Despite the pounding headache and sensitivity to light, you force yourself to open your eyes. “What the fuck?!” Glancing around the room frantically, you panic as you realize you weren’t waking up in the comfort of your room. You had to be the subject of some prank reality tv show because the decor was undoubtedly some renaissance festival shit. The walls were brick with large tapestries decorating the stone. You were laid in the center of a giant four poster bed, black and red canopies flowing.

Slipping from the tangle of sheets and blankets, you pad towards the door. “Okay,” you call out, “you got me. Very funny.” 

Silence. 

“This is so weird” you murmur, pushing the door open as gently as possible to peak out. A woman rushes by you, dressed in some kind of drab linen and an apron. “Excuse me!” you shout, attempting to get her attention. 

The short woman slowed down, stopping to curtsy quickly at the sight of you. “My lady, forgive me. I didn’t you see you there!”

“My lady?” You asked. “What are you talking about? This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny, my lady,” she replied quietly. “Please don’t tell your wife I was making jokes! I swear I meant no harm-”

“My wife?!” Everyone has officially gone off the deep end. First this medieval times shit, now apparently you have a wife.

The woman’s eyes go wide, “Your wife, Queen Rhaenyra. My lady, are you unwell?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I have no idea what’s going on. I lost my job. I don’t know where I am or apparently who I am. I just want-” You choke off into sobs.

“Let me help you back to your room,” she offered, taking your elbow. “I’ll let the Queen know you’re unwell.”

You nodded, letting her lead you back into the room. The woman helped you into a steaming bath and left you to soak while she fetched your wife. “Can’t believe someone made an honest woman of me,” you laugh.

At some point, the entire situation stopped feeling like a prank. Maybe it was watching the maid fill the tub painstakingly bucket by bucket, or the significant lack of electricity. Either way, your situation was beginning to feel more and more real. You grab the bar of soap and lather up a cloth, scrubbing furiously at your skin. 

“That’s weird,” you murmur as you notice that your skin seems far too perfect. You usually had a couple scars littering your arms and legs, leftovers from frequently crashing your bike as a kid and general clumsiness. They all seemed to have vanished into thin air, leaving nothing but perfectly smooth, supple skin behind. “Okay, I’m officially going crazy.”

You see a small mirror on the ledge next to the tub, and reach out with shaky hands. You sigh in relief as you glance into the mirror and see that you look the same. At least you have something familiar here.

“Admiring the view? I know I am.” A deep voice purred from behind you.

Tossing the mirror back, you swiftly cover your chest and pray that the water obscurs the rest of you. “What the fuck?!” You yell, turning to confront whatever pervert decided to interrupt your bath. A tall man towered over the tub, his white hair practically glowing as the candlelight reflected off of it.

“I’m trying to have an existential crisis in here,” you hiss. “Can you come back later or something?”

He snorted a laugh, stalking forward to grab a brush from the side table and sit behind you. “And miss this opportunity? I should think not, my love.” He gently began detangling your hair and brushing it out. 

“My love? You do know I’m a married woman?” You retort.

“You never let me forget,” he replied, kissing the top of your hair. 

“I mean I have a wife, asshole!” You twist around to snatch the brush from his hands, but he lifts it out of your reach.

“What a coincidence,” he purrs, blatantly staring at your breasts. “I do too. Two, if I’m not mistaken.” His eyes dart down to your left hand, as if he knows something you don’t.

You glance at the ring that’s been there since you woke up. The black metal has a dragon insignia that looks awfully similar to the embroidery on this man’s shirt. “Fuck.” 

The man’s brows furrow, “what’s wrong?” He sets the brush down, grabbing a sheet and pulling you from the bath. He wraps you up and sits you in his lap. The warmth seeping into your skin feels so familiar and you feel yourself begin to break. Tears stream down your cheeks, and you burrow your face into his neck to hide them. 

Warm hands rub up and down your back soothingly. “My love, I cannot fix whatever is wrong if you don’t tell me.” He hums. “You don’t even have to tell me. Just give Rhaenyra a name and I will ensure whoever made you cry will never breathe again.”

You laugh at the irony. “I don’t know who Rhaenyra is. I’m not sure I even know who I am.” 

Before he can respond, a door slams. “Daemon, thank Gods you’re here. The maid said y/n was acting ill and didn’t rememb-” 

Your head peaks up over the man–Daemon’s shoulder to see the woman who ran in. Her hair is just as white as Daemon’s and her clothing adorned with the same dragon insignia. This must be Queen Rhaenyra.

“Y/n?!” Rhaenyra rushes over, kissing your cheek before she hugs you tightly. 

“My queen,” Daemon greets, leaning in for a kiss. You find yourself pressed between the two, and as much as you don’t want to admit it….the warmth and pressure feels comforting…like home. 

“I hate to break this up,” you say, wiping the last of your tears away. “But can someone tell me what is going on. The last thing I remember was being fired, getting wine drunk, and going to bed early.”

“Fired?” Rhaenyra looked confused and immediately started inspecting every exposed inch of your skin. “Did you try to feed Caraxes again? He’s a temperamental old man, just like his rider.”

“Who is Caraxes? Do ya’ll have a dog or something?”

“Dog?!” Daemon sounded almost offended. “A dog?! Rhaenyra we should fetch a maester. Our little dragon is either begging for a punishment or in need of a healer.”

Rhaenyra attempts to cover her laugh. “Caraxes, Daemon’s dragon? You insist on telling him a goodnight story at least once a week.”

“He’s a dragon of war for fucks sake,” Daemon mutters. “You’ve been making him soft.”

“Dragon?!” Your eyes go wide. “You’re joking. You’ve gotta be fucking me right now.”

“We are most definitely no-”

“We certainly could be-”

Daemon and Rhaenyra spoke at the same time. You would have laughed, but the implications of Daemon’s words were starting to settle in.

“Wait,” you being. “So if Queen Rhaenyra is my wife….and Daemon has two wives…and you two seem to be close…that means-”

“That you both are all mine,” Daemon purrs.

“Daemon, we must call for the maester. This seems serious, she doesn’t even remember us.”

“What year is this?” You ask, not sure if you want the answer.

“125 AC.” Rhaenyra responds.

“And where are we?”

“The red keep.”

“What, is that like England or something?”

“We are in Westeros.” Rhaenyra feels your forehead. “Daemon, put y/n to bed while I have the maids summon the maester.”

You yelp in surprise and Daemon stands up, holding you close to his chest. He carries you to a vanity, setting you gently on the bench before rummaging through some drawers. “Arms up, love.” He says, pulling a white shift over your head. You stare of into space as Daemon gently braids your hair. 

“Where’d you learn to do that?” You ask as he ties a ribbon at the ends of the braid.

“You and Rhaenyra are quite the demanding duo when you want to be,” he snorts. “The staff might revolt and establish Rhaenyra’s cunt of a half-brother as king if I bothered them everytime you both needed your hair done.”

“Language,” you chide. Daemon rolls his eyes before he sweeps you back up into his arms. He carries you to the bed, depositing you in the center before he climbs in. Daemon sits up, back against the headboard as he pulls you in to lean against his chest. 

“Do you really not remember us?” He asks. 

“How long have we been married?” 

“Five years. We were married in the old ways. Your High Valyrian wasn’t as good back then though.” Daemon laughs. “But it was perfect, and I wouldn’t trade you both for anything.”

“So if Rhaenyra is queen, what does that make you?” You ask. He had to be King, right?

“A lucky man.”

You laugh, and lightly hit his chest. “No, really. I don’t remember anything. Help a girl out here.”

“Prince consort.” Daemon answers. You nod, so Rhaenyra must be in charge around here.

“So how’d I end up married to Queen Rhaenyra and Prince Consort Daemon?” You ask in the poshest British accent you can muster.

“You threw yourself at my feet saying ‘Please Rhaenyra, I cannot live without you! You are the sun that brightens the sky and the stars that guide ships home!’” Rhaenyra teased. You sit up to see that Rhaenyra isn’t alone, she brought back some balding man with her. 

“I didn’t say that-” You protest.

“Really?” Daemon laughs. “My queen, it’s not proper to toy with someone who is ill.”

“You’re one to talk,” Rhaenyra says, raising a brow. “You seemed rather close when I came in earlier.”

You groan. How did you manage to survive these two for five years. 

!!SMUT BELOW!!

PREVIEW FOR PART TWO

“No,” Daemon scolds, clasping your hands together in his larger one and wrenching your body into his. “You’re not in charge here. You’re going to listen and obey like a good little girl.” You whine in response, nodding furiously in agreement. Suddenly, Rhaenyra’s warm body brushes up against your back. She nibbles lightly at your ear before kissing and licking her way down your neck.

“No need to be cruel,” Rhaenyra purrs. “Our little dragon is just begging for attention the only way she knows how.”

You whimper, canting your hips into Daemon’s. He slides a thigh between yours, pressing it up against your cunt. Your eyes roll back and you moan at the friction. “Please,” you breathe out, your teary eyes meeting his. 

NOTE: Hey all! I'm not dead, sorry for disappearing! Life happened (new job, had to travel home for a funeral). But, I got my shit back together after taking some time for myself and I'm ready to give y'all the stories I've been cooking up. I have some steamy and inspiring requests I'm working on for Feyd Rautha (so if you requested...they're coming). Glad to be back and BE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR PART 2!!!! - Lacie <3

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[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hi 👋🏻 Lou!! Congratulations 🎊🎉 on 6k!!

So how about Arranged Marriage w/ Simon?

Again congrats to 6k 🙃💛🦡

.⋆｡Give 'Em Hell｡⋆.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x plus size reader

Your parents think you need to get married and settle down, so they called in a favour. A big military man of a husband might do you some good just not in the way they think

Warnings: arranged marriage, sort of sugar baby/daddy relationship, misogynist parents, future revenge, mention of hook-ups WC: 986

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You often wondered about the true scope of your family’s stupidity. Sure, there were moments in your childhood where you had the vivid thought that no one could be as ignorant and blatantly idiotic as your parents were but somehow, they had absolutely hit rock bottom of moronic decisions.

“What the fuck do you mean I’m getting married?” Your mother gasped.

“Watch your tone young lady, that is no way to speak to your parents.” She scolded as your father’s expression hardened. There was no question that your parents were ‘traditional’ believing that women were less than their male counterparts in every way but while they had constantly lectured you on those beliefs, they hadn’t gone so far as to inflict them upon you, until now at least. They even helped you and encouraged you through college!

“You’ve been running wild long enough, it’s time for you to do your duty,” you fought the urge to roll your eyes, “We’ve let you chase your silly little dreams but you’re getting older and your clock is ticking.” Your father clicked his tongue and reached for the tumbler of expensive bourbon on the table beside his recliner.

“We’ve picked out a good man!” Your mother chirped from her place on the expensive love seat next to your father, “He’s highly decorated in the military, he can give you a good life.”

“I don’t give a shit about that! I’m not marrying anybody! Period!” You snarled. Anger curled in your gut, turning your tone sour.

Your father’s glass slammed down onto the wood, making your mother flinch. “You will marry him or I will make your life a living hell. I make one call and no one will want to hire you, not even as a fucking garbage collector. You know the connections I have. Suck it up and be a responsible adult for once.” 

——————

“I don’t want a husband.” The man across from you made a sound that you thought might have been a laugh. Simon, as you had learned from your parents, was a Lieutenant in a special ops task force. Never married, no family to speak of and copious amounts of money, your mother had gleefully added as she literally dragged you into the official-looking building where you would be meeting your future spouse.

He was by all means, an intimidating man. Almost 6 and a half feet tall and wearing a stupid balaclava with a skull on it, he looked more fitting being in a slasher movie than in a conference room negotiating marriage stipulations. His bulky, tattooed arms were crossed over his chest, somehow making him seem even bigger to you, as he leaned back in his chair.

“I don’t want a wife.” Your eyebrows furrowed at that. 

“Then why are you here?” 

His massive shoulders rolled back as his head tilted, cracking his neck. “Same as you— orders.” You hummed under your breath and forced your gaze away from his tanned arms and up to his eyes. He was obviously a quiet man but in no way did that intimidate you. He seemed more pissed off at your father who had so rudely guided (shoved) you into the room than he did at you.

You cleared your throat. “I won’t fuck you.” This time, his laugh was more discernible. His broad chest rumbled with the sound.

“‘M not expecting you to, not unless you beg,” you made a face at him but Simon continued, “I get deployed most of the time, I’d just like someone to take care of the house and spend my money.”

“So I would be your sugar baby.” He shrugged.

“If that’s what ya wanna call it. Do what cha want, I don’t care. We just need to show up to official events together.” 

You planted your elbows on the table between you and stared into his brown eyes. Simon didn’t waver. “So you wouldn’t have an issue with me getting a job?”

“None.” He answered quickly.

“Going back to school?”

“I’d happily pay for it.” You raised an eyebrow before a devious smirk crossed your lips.

“Get a lover?” His eyes blazed while he mirrored your position, the swivel chair beneath him groaning with his mass as he leaned forwards, planting his massive palms onto the table.

“I’d like to see you try.” Against your will, heat raced through your body, setting your nerves alight with the thrum of arousal.  Simon’s mask shifted and you imagined that he was smirking at you. 

You tamped down the feeling of wetness between your soft thighs, forcing yourself to remember exactly why you were in this situation in the first place. “You’re a lot different than I was expecting.”

He huffed. “So are you. Thought I was getting stuck with some bratty trust fund baby who’s never even set foot in a thrift store.”

“I thought you were gonna be a crusty old man who wanted me to put out so he could feel better about his broken dick and receding hairline.” Silence settled between you before suddenly, you both broke into peels of laughter, an oppressive weight suddenly lifted from the room. 

You were relieved; Simon seemed at least like a decent human being if nothing else and it appeared that you could continue living your life, although without the occasional hook up here and there. But considering how handsome you presumed your almost husband to be, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

“I guess we both got lucky didn’t we?” You wiped the tears from your eyes.

“Or just benefitting from the sheer incompetence of the people that thought this was a good idea.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“So, should we do this then?” You asked. Simon rose from his seat and offered you his hand, which you didn’t hesitate to take. As he pulled you to your feet, he uttered:

“Let’s give ‘em hell.”

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double shift

— kento nanami x f!reader

summary: Kento Nanami hates overtime, but who is he to say no when his boss asks him to go check on his wife while he's out of town?

word count: 4.2k

content: NSFW, 18+, smut, infidelity, heavy lactation kink, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, multiple orgasms, degradation, dirty talk, squirting, breeding kink, restraints, counter sex, wet & messy

Kento’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as he stares at his phone nestled in the cupholder, limbs taut with aggravation as the bored voice of his boss continues on, “She hasn’t been answering my calls all day, and I’m not flying back for another week yet. I know you’re probably about to leave the office, but I’m going to need you to stop at my house and check on her first, Nanami.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, the words ‘OVERTIME’ flashing red behind his eyes and drawing forth a fresh surge of anger that has him contemplating the consequences of smashing his phone on the pavement outside and finding a new job entirely.

Today has been shit.

Capital S, Shit.

His asshole boss has been out of town for nearly a week already, every client is somehow ten times more unbearable than usual, the incompetence across the office has become a goddamn disease, and he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that that piece of shit is doing anything  but keeping his dick in his pants while his wife and their new baby are left home alone.

His very attractive, very lovely wife who probably has no idea what a waste of oxygen her husband is. 

You’re too fucking good for him.

And you’re also too good for Kento, who’s spent more nights than he’d care to admit furiously fisting his cock to the memory of whatever tantalizing outfit you’d turned up at the office wearing that day.

And seeing you pregnant?

While the knowledge that you were now entirely stuck with that undeserving asshole sent his blood boiling, Kento could hardly complain about the sight of you during those months, his shaft straining painfully in his slacks every time he laid eyes upon your gloriously swollen, heavy breasts. 

And the cum he splattered all over the mirror and sink after inevitably rushing out of his office when you finally left? Well, that was between him and the four walls of the men’s bathroom. 

So after the awful day he’s already had, Kento’s not sure he can imagine a worse type of overtime than waltzing into your house and playing the part of a dutiful employee checking in on his boss’s wife, acting like he doesn’t want to fuck you so bad it’s driving him up a goddamn wall.

But he’ll fucking do it.

Of course he will. 

“Sure,” he replies tersely, before hanging up and peeling out of the parking lot.

᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

She’s finally asleep.

Sighing weakly in relief, you close the door to your daughter’s bedroom and shuffle down the hallway. You make it all the way to the kitchen before you’re forced to lean heavily against the countertop, gritting your teeth as another wave of discomfort radiates from your sore, swollen breasts. 

“Hello?” a familiar, male voice tentatively calls out in a hushed tone.

You whip around, still clutching the counter for support, eyes widening at the side of Kento Nanami standing in the doorway to your kitchen. 

“Hi?” you respond, your heart doing a somersault as you drink in the sight of his tall, muscled form. 

He twirls a key around his finger twice before catching it in the palm of his hand and stuffing it in his pocket. “I apologize for barging in, but your spare key hiding spot is shit, and I didn’t want to ring the doorbell and wake the baby.”

“It’s okay, Nanami,” you assure him, the erratic thrumming in your chest far from a feeling of fear.

For whatever reason, he appears to be attempting to avert his eyes after glancing over at you quickly, roughly running a hand through his hair. “Your husband asked me to check on you. He said he hasn’t heard from you all day,” he explains carefully. 

“Well, I figured it would be rude to interrupt the wild orgies he pays for with the company credit card,” you deadpan.

Nanami’s jaw ticks, “He—”

“I’m well aware of what he does.”

“Then why—”

“Because I realized too late, and I’m too tired to do anything about it right now,” you sigh, wincing at the continuous ache of your breasts.

And it’s then that you realize why Nanami’s been looking anywhere but at you directly.

You’re wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and knee-high socks, which in and of itself isn’t overtly reprehensible, given that you’re in your own house, you have a four-month-old child, and you can’t remember the last time you got a full night’s rest. The issue is that your breasts are so sore and tender right now, you haven’t been able to even look at a bra in days. 

Which, once again, wouldn’t be an issue alone in the privacy of your home…when one of your husband’s employees isn’t desperately trying not to acknowledge the fact that two large wet spots have soaked through your shirt. 

“I should…” you trail off awkwardly, glancing around the room in hopes that you left one of your flannel over shirts lying within reach. 

“It’s fine,” Nanami blurts out, scratching the back of his head and studiously feigning interest in the collection of party invites and shopping lists stuck to the side of your fridge. 

᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

It’s not fine. 

It’s anything but fine. 

It’s a complete fucking disaster. 

Kento hasn’t seen you since you gave birth. And despite how exhausted he knows you are—he can see it in the bags under your eyes and the limpness of your posture— your soft pregnancy glow has transformed into a postpartum radiance that has his breath catching in his throat each time his eyes sweep over you. 

You’re fucking stunning. 

And somehow, he knows your husband hasn’t noticed this. Hasn’t told you how incredible you are, how fantastic motherhood looks on you. It sends a fresh wave of anger coursing through him, the mere thought that he could bear to let himself stray from you—especially now, at such a vulnerable time. 

But any hopes Kento had of trying not to commit this sight of you to memory were swiftly dashed the moment he noticed the wet spots on your shirt. 

Even now, when he’s looking at a box of cereal on the counter as if it’s the most interesting thing in the entire world, every layer of his inner psyche is rapidly overheating at the thought of your heavy, swollen breasts. The milk leaking from them, soaking through your clothes and inevitably trailing down your stomach. 

He needs to fucking leave. Now. 

“I should go—“

“—do you want some tea?”

You both speak at the same time, and when Kento turns to face you again, you’ve slipped a blue flannel shirt on, buttoning it up partway. As if his traitorous cock will somehow forget what he now knows is obscured underneath the added layer of material. But despite the growing discomfort swelling and throbbing against the zipper of his pants, he concedes, his need to quell the apparent loneliness in your eyes with a moment of company winning out over his lust-addled desire to disappear to the nearest private place to jerk off. 

He’s thankful to sit after you pour him a cup, hiding any and all evidence of what a terrible man he is beneath the table, one leg idly bouncing as he wills his hard on to go down. It’s a big ask, though, given that you’re probably not even aware of what you’re doing to him when you lean your body over the kitchen island with your mug clutched between your fingers as you idly chat with him, your oversized shirt just barely masking the flash of pink panties it reveals beneath each time your shoulders bounce as you laugh. 

He’s two seconds from excusing himself to put his fucking dick in the freezer. 

His chair scrapes against the tile floor as he pushes it back, having decided he’s at his limit, but he pauses when a pained sound escapes your lips. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, hurrying over to where you’re now pressing your forehead against the island countertop, whimpering softly. His hand hovers for a moment before he opts to gently touch your shoulder, just to let you know he’s there. 

Your fingers scrape over the marble as you breathe out in a quiet voice, “No.”

As if on instinct, Kento begins to rub small, comforting circles into your upper back, his tentative touches growing more confident when he feels your tense body behind to relax slightly. 

“What’s wrong? What can I do?”

You whine again, standing up straighter but keeping your back to him as you clutch at your chest. “They…they hurt so bad.”

Kento’s halfway certain his soul has left his body as he watches, stunned, while you slide your hands up under your shirt and squeeze at your breasts, exhaling a chorus of breathy little sounds like the fucked up cherry on top. 

“Do you need to…” he trails off, and though you can’t see from where he’s standing behind you, he vaguely gestures in the general direction where he can only surmise the baby’s room is. 

“It’s…they’re clogged,” you whisper, elbows lifting up and revealing the small of your back as you begin to knead your tits desperately. “They’ve been so sore and swollen for days.”

Kento bites his lower lip, mentally steadying himself for a moment before he asks, “Tell me how I can help.”

“Can you grab a clean washcloth out of the drawer next to the sink and soak it in hot water?”

He swiftly complies with your request, returning moments later after wringing out the small towel and waiting for it to cool down slightly. You’re still using the counter to steady yourself, so he approaches you from behind and goes to hand you the washcloth, only to find his hand immediately pinned between your own and one of your breasts. 

You let out a whimpering cry of relief, and it takes everything in him not to let out the noise rumbling in his own throat as you squeeze his hand over your tit. 

“I’m sorry,” you whimper. “It just feels so…”

“It’s okay,” Kento murmurs. “Relax.”

Internally, every single warning bell inside of his head is blaring indignantly over the fact that he’s got his hand under his boss’s wife’s shirt, and he’s massaging her lactating breasts with a hot towel while she whimpers and presses into his touch. 

But your fingers are laced with his, and you’re not telling him to stop. 

In fact, you’re begging him to keep going, keeping a hold of his left hand when he switches the towel to his right, urging him to massage both of your tits at the same time. And who is he to tell you no?

Kento’s fairly certain his balls are going to be aching for days when he feels the warm liquid that begins to coat his fingers.

Fucking fuck. 

What the fuck is he doing?

Then your back arches as you outright moan when he brazenly toys with both of your nipples at the same time, milk squirting out, your ass pressing directly into his throbbing erection. 

And fuck it, fuck dignity, because Kento’s on the verge of coming in his pants. 

But then you spin around to face him, your back pressed into the island as you gaze at him shyly and say, “I…I think I need more.”

Your eyes flick from his mouth back down to your breasts, and he cups the side of your face as he asks, “Are you sure?”

You nod, slipping your shirt off entirely and tossing it aside, and Kento’s mouth goes dry as he stares at the trails of milk leaking from your tits, wondering how he’d ever thought to call today ‘Shitty’. 

He motions toward the counter, his large hands grasping your waist to help you get seated up on top of it, fingertips hesitant to pull away from your lacy panties when he spies the wet spot over your cunt. 

Kento has never thought of himself as a greedy man. Far from it, actually. 

But the moment his mouth latches onto one of your hot, swollen breasts, pulling a shameless moan from your pretty lips as your thighs wrap around him, the sweet taste of your milk hitting his tongue, he feels fucking insatiable. 

His mind is a buzz of static as he drinks from your tits, all the blood in his body rushing to his cock, precum soaking through his boxers and slacks. Your fingers tangle in his hair, the heel of your foot pressing into his back and pulling him closer, and he groans, one hand grasping your upper thigh as he teases your nipples between his teeth and squeezes a spray of liquid onto his gluttonous tongue. 

“Feels so good, Nanami,” you whine, fingertips sliding down the front of his dress shirt, catching on each button.  

“Kento,” he exhales, licking up the milk dripping down your chest. 

“Kento,” you moan, tugging hard on the tousled blond strands that have fallen onto his forehead. 

And at the sound of your breathy, wrecked tone moaning out his name for the first time, every nerve ending in Kento’s body goes up in flames. 

᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Nothing has ever felt this good. 

Nothing. 

Kento Nanami’s sinful mouth is latched onto your heavy, engorged tits, greedily drinking every spurt of breast milk that comes leaking out of you, the flow growing steadier with each lap and squeeze. 

He has no fucking clue that most of your impromptu visits to the office are actually to see him. To talk to him, if only for a few moments. Kento Nanami, who has always treated you with unfailing kindness under his sometimes brash exterior. Who extends more patience toward you than all of his coworkers combined. 

He has no idea how trapped you feel in your marriage, how often you’ve longed for the bland touch of your husband in bed to be his. 

He doesn’t know how many times you’ve brought yourself over the edge with your fingers with his face lingering in your mind, the rough, teasing sound of words you’ve imagined in his voice playing out in your head like the most sinful soundtrack you’ve ever heard. 

And now he’s grunting and moaning as he makes a mess of both of you, his lips and chin gleaming with the same wet, sticky milk that’s all over your chest and thighs and his hands and pooling on the countertop beneath you. 

It’s filthy.

It’s so fucking filthy. 

And maybe it’s wrong. 

But you’re so desperate for him. For this. You need more. You need it so badly, you can hardly breathe. Searing desire is coiled so tightly in your abdomen, you’re trembling with restraint, aching with the desire to beg him to fuck you. You know he wants it, too, though. It’s hard to miss the thick, mouth-watering outline of his cock straining against his pants, like a beacon waiting to fulfill your darkest desires. 

It’s a line you know he won’t cross unless you ask for it. 

“Kento,” you murmur again, pulling his face up to meet yours. 

“Mmm?” he asks, pupils blown wide with lust, and you can tell he’s slightly dazed, drunk off of the taste of the milk leaking from your tits. 

You lean closer, letting your lips hover over his, Kento’s breath mingling with your own as you whisper, “Please touch me.”

He gently pushes your thighs further apart, carefully running a finger over the front of your panties. His voice is a rough, gravelly sound as he asks, “Here?”

A thrill shoots up your spine at the feather-light touch. “Yes.”

“More?” he questions, his lips brushing against your mouth as he hooks a finger in your underwear and pulls them aside. 

“More,” you keen, bucking into him as his knuckles graze your clit. 

He slides a finger through your folds, visibility shuddering as he comments, “You’re so fucking wet.”

“For you,” you pant, trying to resist the urge to shamelessly start riding his hand. 

Kento’s mouth engulfs yours in a rough, hungry kiss at the same moment he slides a thick digit into your cunt, and he swallows down the whimpering cry of pleasure that spills out of you. His lips are relentless as they slot against yours, and you arch into him, every part of your body drawn to his blazing touch on your skin. 

You can taste the remnants of your breastmilk on Kento’s lips, but you don’t care as you let him slip his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you so deeply it makes your toes curl, one hand cradling the back of your head while he stuffs a second finger into your hole. 

And just when you thought you couldn’t get any more sensitive under his touch, he dips his head back down to continue ravishing your forgotten breasts, pumping his soaked fingers in and out of your pussy all the while. 

“Kento,” you whimper, chest heaving as you press your heels into the cabinets below, every muscle in your body going taut under the onslaught of arousal coursing through you. 

“Can you come for me?” he asks, his gravelly, barely restrained tone searing itself into your mind. 

It’s the combination of his thumb massaging circles into your sensitive bundle of nerves and the sight of milk dripping down his chin as he messily drinks from you that sends you tumbling over the edge, the rubber band inside of you snapping like a whip as your orgasm washes over you. There’s an unfamiliar feeling that accompanies it, clear liquid squirting from your cunt and soaking the front of Kento’s dress shirt. 

Kento’s eyes darken a fraction as he grasps your chin, thumb pressing into your bottom lip. “Good girl,” he murmurs, kissing you. “Good fucking girl.”

Hand reaching between your bodies, you grasp his cock through his slacks, marveling at how maddeningly thick he feels. 

“I want you to fuck me now, Kento,” you tell him in no uncertain terms, rubbing your palm up and down his erection for good measure. “Fuck me like I’m a bad girl.”

Kento growls, hand palming the side of your neck, thumb caressing your collarbones, “You have no fucking clue what you do to me.”

“Show me.”

You’ve hardly had a chance to unbutton his pants before he’s slipping your panties down, stuffing them into his pocket. His hands come up to undo his tie, but rather than tossing the silky material aside, he asks, “Do you trust me?”

You nod in response, and he steps around the island, pulling your hands behind your back and tying your wrists together snugly with the yellow and black material. Anticipation zings through your chest, a fresh wave of arousal dripping from your sensitive cunt. 

“Is that too tight?”

You shake your head. “It’s perfect.”

He wastes no time in shedding the rest of his clothes, and you find yourself pressing hard against the restraints once you see his cock in all its glory, thick and flushed and so fucking big that you whimper.  

You spread your legs wide for him again as he steps between them, rubbing the leaking head of his cock against your damp slit. He notches it at your entrance, tilting your chin to his mouth and dragging your bottom lip between his teeth before he murmurs, “You’re perfect.”

Kento’s hands grasp your hips as he notches his cock at your dripping entrance, slowly easing into you. He massages your breasts, his hot mouth nipping and lapping a trail from your shoulder to the sensitive spot behind your earlobe while he pushes deeper into your cunt. When he eventually bottoms out, you’re both breathing hard, and his tie is fighting for its life to keep your wrists bound behind you. 

“Are you okay?” 

You let out a huff of air, your entire body poised to implode with the weight of the lust and pleasure raging inside of you. “Fuck me like you mean it, Kento.”

Whatever thinly veiled restraint was left in him crumbles to dust at your request, and Kento tugs you closer to the edge of the counter as he begins to pound into your cunt at a ruthless pace, splitting you open right in the middle of your kitchen. The cool marble is slick and sticky beneath you, covered in a myriad of filthy fluids that continue to leak out of you. 

“So beautiful,” he grunts, punctuating each word with a rough snap of his hips. 

“I feel like a whore,” you admit, biting your lower lip, tits bouncing heavily with his punishing thrusts. 

A short, dark laugh escapes Kento’s lips, his brows raising. He leans in, stuffing his cock deep into your cunt as he presses his mouth to yours and murmurs, “Well you’re my pretty, filthy whore.”

If your husband talked to you like this, you’d slap him. But from Kento…the liquid heat that churns in your belly is anything but anger. 

“Am I?” you ask, trying to sound as innocent as you can when he’s balls deep inside of you. 

“Yeah,” he rasps, not missing a beat as he catches on to what you want to hear. He squeezes your tits, milk squirting everywhere. “My dirty slut. You’re such a good girl, making a such a fucking mess. Squirting all over me while your tits leak everywhere.”

You gasp as he leans down, burying his face in your tits, latching on to one of your nipples and drinking deeply from you again. The combined feeling of him sucking on your breasts and the push and drag of his shaft inside of you leaves you cock drunk, begging and babbling senselessly as tears of pleasure prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Wanna put another baby in you, keep these nice and round and full for me,” he grunts, letting milk spray from your tits and leak down your bodies, dripping down his cock and coating his balls. 

The thought leaves you dizzy and breathless, keening as you imagine Kento filling you over and over with his seed. Waking up each morning to his cock already stuffed inside of you, fucking the previous night’s cum right back into your needy cunt. Tying you up to your bed posts with that goddamn tie. The satisfaction on his face when your breasts grow heavy and your belly grows round again for him, awakening something so feral inside of him he’s incapable of keeping his mouth off of your tits and his cock from the heat between your thighs whenever you’re alone. 

Rational thinking is a thing of the past as you choke out, nearly sobbing with pleasure, cunt squelching wetly as he pounds into you, “Fill me, Kento. Please.”

Kento curses, leaning in to caress the side of your face as he mutters, “My filthy girl.”

“Yours,” you pant. “I’m yours.”

He captures your mouth in a deep, heated kiss, fingers grasping your hips for purchase as he plunges into your cunt, drawing shuddering, unabashed moans out of you. “Come all over my cock then,” he instructs, his rough tone dragging down your spine, fingers toying with your clit while your pussy clenches down on every inch of him. 

And when he leans down, holding eye contact with you as he licks up a forgotten trail of milk rolling down one of your tits, there’s nothing that can stop the searing explosion of pleasure that ignites inside of you, your entire body trembling with the relentless, burning hot flood of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. 

He follows moments after you, driving his length in to the hilt as he groans, fingers gripping you tightly, his thick cock pulsing heavily inside of you as he fills your cunt deeply with ropes of cum. As fucked out as you feel, you can’t help but whine at the ceaseless arousal that stirs within your gut as your pussy quivers around the stretch of his cock, milking every drop of Kento’s seed from him. 

Kento feels you subtly rocking your hips back into him, and his answering chuckle is like warm honey as he reaches between you. He plays with your overstimulated clit, pressing gentle kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck as his seed begins to leak out of you. You moan softly, head falling against his shoulder, pleasure mounting inside of you once more. Leveraging what remains of his softening cock, he slowly fucks his cum back inside of you, his rough whispers of praise a warm caress against the shell of your ear as your entire body dissolves into one last blissful climax that leaves you completely boneless. 

You have all of two minutes to bask in the afterglow, Kento’s hands and lips tenderly mapping out your body, when the sound of your phone ringing on the countertop beside you startles you both. Your gaze meets his as you both see the unwelcome name that flashes on the screen, and he promptly flips your phone over and scoops you into his arms as he makes his way toward the living room.

“If I’m working overtime, I’m making this a double shift.”

— likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!

[tboymoon]

get me pregnant so i can be in denial about the baby inside me.

it starts with me saying “oh its no big deal you came inside me i’m on testosterone i can’t get pregnant”. you laugh at me when i say it cause you know that’s not how it works and that with the way we’ve been fucking lately, theres no way i’m not with child.

i ignore the symptoms. i don’t get a period anymore so that does nothing to clue me in. the morning sickness? oh just a stomach bug or i ate something bad the night before. food cravings? i’m just stressed from work and life. i’m already tired and achey all the time so i don’t question it at all.

but you know. you know exactly whats happening to me. you secretly switched out my T once you realized what was happening. put me on estrogen supplements (you told me it was testosterone) to help the baby.

then the real fun starts. because of the estrogen and pregnancy, i start developing breasts again. my bump starts showing too. i don’t even notice! you start playing with my tits and showing so much attention to my belly during sex. it just feels so good that i can’t even feel dysphoric about having tits again. i start playing with them and rubbing my belly without paying attention even! too horny to even think further about the changes happening to me body.

you ask me to quit my job. i’d be much happier home where i can touch myself all day and take care of the house. i do it no questions ask. you know best after all. i’ve been blindly letting you make decisions about me for so long now. i even grew out my curly blonde hair and started dressing like a girl again. the first time i got she/her’d i came to you crying and you just held me and told me “well they aren’t wrong. have you looked in the mirror lately? such a pretty girl”. you started calling me your wife and picked a new girly name for me so you wouldn’t have to say my horrible masculine old name during sex. it became just another thing i associated with pleasure.

i didn’t clue into the pregnancy until i started lactating and the baby started kicking. at this point i’m so conditioned to being your housewife that i just accept my new role as a mommy. a tiny part of me in the back of my mind is screaming and crying, wondering how this could happen. but the real me knows that it was inevitable. i did this to myself but it’s ok cause i have you to guide me. i know this wont be the last time i’m full with child.

after all it’s my duty as your wife to give you all the babies you want.

[erenjaegerwifee]

Summers In Pandora 🌸 Day 5 - Jealousy 

Paring: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Summary: Neteyam wants your attention but you’re too busy giving it to someone else

Warnings: MDNI 18+, established relationship, jealous neteyam, rough sex, explicit language, orals (f receiving), p in v, neteyam getting mad he keeps getting interrupted,

Word Count: 2.5k

Index: kelku - house, sevin - pretty

Disclaimer: All my characters are aged-up! If this makes you uncomfortable feel free to scroll and don’t read!

Main M.list | Event M.list

“Baby come on, just the tip” Neteyam’s hands roamed your body as your stood in front of the mirror of your kelku fixing your top while you get ready for your daily clan duties. Neteyam should always be getting ready but he seems to rather rut against your ass begging to fuck because he woke up with a ranging boner.  

“Nete, we have to leave I’m gonna be late for class.” you loved your job in the clan, it mainly consisted of teaching young healers but you like to help out wherever you can. You and Neteyam have been in a relationship for the pass 3 years, you both just turned 19 so you thought it was bit immature to mate so soon. Even thought you were not opposed to the idea; both your parents told you to wait until you turned 21.  

It has been about a year now you and Neteyam moved in together and it has been wonderful, you never realized before how horny he is until you started living together, not that you’re complaining. He is so active during the day and still he tries to fuck you every chance he gets. “Baby please I won’t take long” his hands squeezed the skin on your waist as he kissed your neck trying to convince you to get naked with him.  

You almost gave in before you head a knock on the wood next to your kelku doorway flap. “y/n are you ready? We're gonna be late” you heard Neteyam hiss at the voice on the other side of the tent. One of your newer students has taken it upon himself to follow you around like a tail. Which often meant he walked you to the healer's hut and back every day.    

Neteyam hated every part of it, why is this boy walking you around like you don’t have a man to do it for you. He doesn’t like it one bit. Neteyam was so tired of him showing up at your shared kelku as if he doesn't know Neteyam also lives there. He let go of you and threw on his towel on hastily around his hips matching towards the entrance flap, neteyam swings it open coming face to face with the man himself. “Why do you keep coming here? Can’t you give her space and wait until she gets to the fucking healers hut then see her? I am very much capable of walking my woman to and from her working station boy.”  

“When she tells me to leave her alone then I will until then you can’t tell me what to do” he sounded like a spoiled child. 

“Boy don’t make me pull rank on you, that is my wife-” 

“Girlfriend, that's your girlfriend. I still have a shot” 

Neteyam was about to knock him on his ass when you ran out of the kelku towards him, “Neteyam no, don’t hurt him he’s harmless” 

“Harmless? You call this harmless? He's basically a stalker.” Neteyam tries to walk around you but you place your hands on his chest, “No no stop baby come on, I have to go I’ll come by and see you a little later, ok? Go get ready for training” every pause in your sentence you kissed his both cheeks so he would calm down. With a sigh you know he was going to let you go.  

Neteyam wrapped his arm around you and kissed you deeply on the lips, he tilted his head sticking his tongue in your mouth as if her was stacking claim in front of the other man, you melt into him so easily, you always loved it when he kissed you, when he did anything to you.  

You pull away from and breath and gave him one last peck before saying goodbye for the day, you send him a sweet smile as you walked away with the boy trailing behind you like a puppy. Neteyam watch you walk your perfect figure away from him, sighing before walking back into the hut to get ready for the day. 

“Seriously you need to stop doing that, I’m not gonna be there to save you one day and Neteyam will knock you on your ass with his little finger.” you express to the boy. His ears pinned back as he nodding to your words, he never intended to make up upset, but seeing you with another man just makes him angry. 

“I’m sorry...” he said in a small voice, “It’s fine but you need to watch your behavior around him, it’s bad enough as it is” you told him as you walk into the healer's hut to start your lesson. After it was over you make your way to the training grounds to see Neteyam. 

When you get there, you watch him spar with another warrior and you say hi to his father and his brother, “Hey Mr. Sully, Lo’ak how’s it going?” they turn towards you and greet your back, “y/n how many times have I told you that you can call me Jake, or dad. You're my daughter in law.” 

“Oh, not yet dad, he has competition now” Lo’ak raised his eyebrows at you making jake raise a questioning eyebrow you. You turn back to look at your future mate sparring with the other warrior, “What did you hear?” you asked Lo’ak. “I hear that Neteyam is deeply frustrated about the puppy dog that follows you around.” his comment made you laugh.  

“Lo’ak please, I don’t want anyone but Neteyam he has no competition.” you turn your head to admire you boyfriend’s godly figure. “Why don’t you just tell him to leave you alone?” Jake asked, “Well dad, I don’t want to hurt his feelings, or make it weird he is one of mt students, I’d hate to have to teach someone who resents me” you sigh and Jake nodded. 

“I mean, I can see where he’s annoyed even now, I hate it when my wife has to associate herself with other men” Jake told you. “Oh, so he got the jealousy from you?” you laugh then Neteyam walked up to you three, “hi baby” he wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you close and kiss you. “Hello bro, we aren’t also standing right here”  

“Shut up Lo’ak, so baby lesson’s over? Wanna go home and have lunch?” he asked you. “Sure, let’s go” you held his hand as he led the way to your shared kelku. He walked in behind you closing the flap and pulling you close to by your waist and kissing you, “Neteyam hm, I thought we were having lunch” you said in between kisses. Neteyam picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his slim waist, “yea baby I’m gonna eat”  

He laid you down on the hammock that sat in your common area, he didn’t want to wait to make it to your bed. Neteyam got down on the floor between your legs and pushed your loincloth up taking in the view of your pussy. You had a blush on your face looking down at him between your legs and without warning he just buried his head into your pussy flicking your clit with his tongue. 

Neteyam slid his tongue up your folds while he ran his hands up your body under your top toying with your nipples. The sensation drives you mad and you throw your head back with a moan of his name, “fuck nete-” he sucked on your clit in the way he knows you like it, “yea sevin, you taste so good” Neteyam laps up all your juices, flicking on your clit you were so close to coming when your kelku flap burst open. 

“Y/n? Are you here? Tsahik said she needs yo-” your puppy dog says as he walks in seeing Neteyam’s head dipped between your thighs. You scramble to pull the throw blanket over your legs and Neteyam’s head hiding him from view. Neteyam slide out from under the blanket menacingly, he turned his head to the boy standing at his kelku entrance. “I’m giving you one second, run away or I will hurt you.”  

Neteyam’s lips glistened with your juices even while he spoke to the boy and sent him running away from your kelku. When neteyam turned back to you, you had the blanket up to your nose and you were crouched up under it looking at Neteyam. He was pissed he had enough if this situation, for weeks you have been saying that puppy dog was harmless but it seems you were wrong. Neteyam had no idea he was so comfortable barging into your kelku. How often does he do that? 

“Baby, was that the first time he came in like that?” you hesitated before shaking your head ‘no’. “He did it before, while you were training, but I promised nothing happened.” Neteyam straighten his back and gritted his teeth, “It doesn’t matter if nothing happened when did he get so fucking comfortable to burst in here like that? And only when I’m not around, I bet he thought I wasn’t here when he did it.” you shrug your shoulders not knowing if talking would make the situation better or worse. Truthfully you didn’t know what brought on his behavior, but you didn’t want Neteyam to get upset so you never told him. “And you didn’t think to tell him to stop coming into your private space?”  

You heard it in his voice, he was pissed about this, he had every reason to be as well, “why didn’t you tell me?”  

“I didn’t want you to get upset”  

“Fuck Y/n did he ever see you in any kind of intimate positions when he bargained in?” his voice was strained but you decided not to lie. “Uhm well, not really, the first time I was making lunch for when you would come home to eat and I wearing that robe you made for me, the silky one. After that he kept coming back every couple days, he never ventured in he stayed by the doorway.”  

Neteyam rubbed his hand over his face, you liked that robe, ever since he made it for you, you loved to wearing it, but you usually did so without any clothes underneath, and Neteyam loved coming home to his naked girlfriend only covered in the thin piece of silk. He thought your nipples looked so cute against the cool fabric, the way they printed out sent him mad. 

It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t know you were accidently flashing the boy, it was his fault so not respecting your space but he’ll teach him a lesson right after he does you. For keep secrets. Neteyam ripped the blanket off your body and stood up tossing it to the side, he took a step back and ordered you, “stand you, strip”  

He watched you get up and strip off your clothes for him. Your hands moved to cross over your chest but he stopped your quickly placing his hands on your wrist and pulling them apart, “no don’t hide these from me.” Neteyam walked up to you and places his hands on your tits playing with them and he brought his mouth to yours kissing you. 

You whimper into his mouth as he kneads the flesh of your tits, he tugs at your nipples making them hard and sensitive. You thought he might take you to the bedroom but instead he picked you up and sat on the hammock seating you in his lap. Neteyam didn’t break the kiss though, his hands move down your body touching everything he can.  

He always was such a passionate lover; always make you feel loved when he touched you. “Neteyam-”  

“Shh baby, I’m tired of being interrupted, I want some time with you, need to show everyone who you really belong too” his lips moved down to your neck sucking on your skin, he leaves deep purple marks and pulls away to admire his work every time before moving on and making another one. He kissed you down sucking on tits flicking his tongue on your nipple.  

You squirm in his lap and thread your hands through his braids keeping him close to you, Neteyam takes one of your hands out of his hair and brings it down to his cock, you didn’t even realize when he took off his loincloth. You gripped his thick cock squeezing it before bringing your other hand down to stroke it with both hands. Neteyam whimpers feeling your soft palm on his cock. 

He moved away from your nipples and back up to kiss your lips twirling his tongue around yours. He pulled away from the kiss but his lips still touched yours as he said, “spit on it”  

You tilt your head down spitting on his cock rubbing your slit over his length. Neteyam lifted your hips up and over his cock lining you up before he slowly lowered you down on his length. Your jaw was slack as you looked down at him but he wasn’t looking at you, he was looking down at his cock disappearing inside your cunt. “Always so tight baby” 

His eyes dart back up to your face when you bottom out and moan, he gives you a minute to adjust before he is lifting your hips up and down on him. Neteyam loved watching you on top, it’s probably one of his favorite positions. He loved watching your tits bounce in his face. Neteyam quicken his pace bouncing you faster on him listening to the way your moans got louder and the way you stuttered out those pretty ahs for him.  

“Listen baby, you listening?” he said as he sets a pace for you. “You. Will. Not. See. Him. Again. Do I make myself clear?” Neteyam said every word each time bouncing you in his cock. You clenched down on him at his words, you always did love it when he got possessive for you. 

“Oh-okk, ok” you chanted. “Let me hear you say it you’re not gonna what?” 

“Not. Gonna. See. Him” you stutter out on his cock. Neteyam smiled at your submissive nature knowing you’d never get like this for anyone but him, “good fucking girl.” Just then he saw a figure outside his doorway flap, someone was peeking through. He recognized the boy immediately and decided to have a little fun with it.  

“Oh Eywa fuck, fuck yea” you moan getting close to your orgasm making Neteyam smile watching you lose yourself on him.  

“Tell me baby, who owns you?” he smiles up at you even though you weren’t really in your right mind. “Yours-you Neteyam!” you screamed his name while cuming hard on his cock gushing your juices on his thighs. “One more time baby say it again who owns you?” he said, his voice was strained he was getting close too. “You Nete- you!” you mewl in overstimulation as he cums deep in you. Your jaw went slack once more as he held you down on him to take him seed, he drops his head on your shoulder kissing your neck as his dick pumps cum inside you. You felt him twitch when he bites down on your neck softly feeling the way you clenched down on him.  

With his tongue on your neck, he looks over your shoulder and saw the boy was gone. He really hopes he got his point across this time as he plays with the end of your tail that’s wrapped around his forearm.

🌸 I hope you all enjoyed reading! I have tons of fun with this one! If you didn’t know before I’m a Neteyam girl at heart!

🌸Reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated!

Taglist:

@rivatar @delusionalwh6re @strongheartneteyam @nilahsstuff @inlovewithpandora @neteyamsoare @m1tsu-ki @kylimarz @teymars @xylianasblog @beensbaee

[seresinhangmanjake]

Could I request Feyd and reader’s wedding from “his”? Or maybe how her life changes once she’s his wife and not his mistress? I lovelovelove all the prequels, but I’m so interested to see their future together!

Forever His

Feyd-Rautha x concubine!reader

Notes/Warnings: barely smut. discussions of babies. thank you for the request and for reading <3

Words: 1350

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

You’re his now. Completely. Entirely. 

Before, anyone could have attempted to touch you, talk to you, insult you—though unwise—and no one but Feyd would have blinked an eye. Neither would they have assumed that such disrespectful behavior toward you would result in their death. A concubine is meant to be touched, spoken to however one pleases, insulted if it’s what a man needs to relieve the stress and frustration from his body. With the exception of Leto Atredies, Feyd’s the only Lord you’ve heard of who has ever given a fuck about the concubine they keep while simultaneously demanding respect for them. And on his part to ensure that, Feyd put secret rules in place when it came to you that men did not often follow. 

Being so heartless by nature, no one would expect a Harkonnen to care about anyone other than themselves—it’s risky to hint that the cold-blooded are capable of running a little warmer than rumor suggests—and for Feyd to lay out his care for you to the masses would have undoubtedly led to your death, whether by the hands of enemies or the Baron himself. But that didn’t stop Feyd from enforcing his rules and the repercussions for breaking them.

Those rules led to the deaths of many, most dramatically of his brother and a Caladanian diplomat, and it’s a wonder Feyd was able to talk himself out of the responsibility for their lives when the Baron called for an explanation. But he did. Feyd kept you alive, untouched by others, unbothered by others, respected by others because you were always his. His, at first labeled so in one way, and now, labeled so in another—as a wife. 

His wife. A Lady once more—not of your home planet, but of Giedi Prime—and though your renewed status may not change the way a Harkonnen man needs to present himself to the universe, Feyd can now be who he wants to be without the Baron lifting an eyebrow. He doesn’t have to pretend not to care for you as deeply as he does, and neither do you have to fear the choices he was making for your sake. 

From the moment Feyd kissed you in front of those who declared the validity of Geidi Prime marriages, your worries were instructed to fall in line with the duties of a wife. But with Feyd—for Feyd—it’s easy. Be his woman; stand by his side; and bear him an heir. And those things, you can do. 

—

His fingers are digging into your hips, helping guide your movements as you grind and shift your hips. He never let you on top before, and he never answered you when you asked why, but you knew it was his method of protection. A psychological need that extended to the physicalities of sex. He had to be the looming one, the consuming one, the one who shielded the other from dangers that were not present in the confines of your room. But that changed as your title changed. You’re allowed to be freer now—uninhibited—and Feyd has been willing to teach you how.

His back teeth clench, jaw sharpening with his final grunt of pleasure. With his hand on your neck, he pulls you down, lips claiming yours as he spills inside of you for the third time in the night. 

Your chest rises and falls in sync with his as you come down from the high, and then he rolls you onto your back, remaining inside of you to keep his seed from leaving your body. “Do you think it worked this time?” you ask as you regain even breaths. 

“Doesn’t matter,” he says as he tries to do the same. “We aren’t going to stop until you’re pregnant with my heir. We aren’t going to stop even once you are.”

Your chuckle is cut short by another press of his lips. Then, there is a press on your jaw. Then another on your neck. Then that kiss turns into little bites that are sure to leave marks. It feels too good to stop him, though you probably should. One of the things that works against you as a wife that did not as a concubine is the marks he makes on your body that cannot be covered by clothing. Nibbles, scratches, bruises—all acceptable on the skin of a concubine. Not as much on the skin of a bride. But it’s a propriety that Feyd could not care less for. 

“Feyd…” The vibration from his hum tickles your throat. “I’ll get stares.” Glares, more like. 

He pulls back with a quirked brow. “Ladies from other Houses eye the marks I give you and suddenly you’re bothered? What for?” He hums again, low, deep. His voice matches. “They’re jealous their Lords don’t fuck them like I fuck you.”

You snicker. “Maybe.”

Not maybe, definitely. However, you know it extends past the attention those women do not receive from their men. The fact that you were a concubine at all raises their hackles. While the Emporer and Lords have their meetings, the Ladies sit aside, offering words when requested but otherwise remaining silent, and in that silence, they have much time to think and scrutinize and judge. 

They don’t care that you were a Lady of your own planet before Feyd; they care what Feyd made you and then remade you when he decided he loved you. And now, you remind them too much of their own circumstances: a wife competing with a concubine. Except you were the concubine and then the wife while they are the wives shadowed by concubine counterparts. You’re an image of what they will never have and what their husbands wish they could have with the women they’d prefer. 

“They’re never going to like you,” Feyd interrupts your thoughts when he sees you’re lost.

“I don’t need them to like me,” you tell him. You prefer the company of the other concubines anyway—those brought alongside the wives for their Lords. Despite the complexities of your past, you connect with them better. “But either way, you need to be more considerate.”

“No,” he counters, “I need to fuck and touch and kiss my new wife however I want, and she needs to condemn anyone who gives her trouble for it.” You mock a gasp of offense. “You expect me to hold myself back with you? You want me to restrain myself when I’m trying to put a baby inside of you?”

“You make it sound silly.”

“It is,” he says. “I don’t whine about the marks you make on me.”

“Because Lords marvel at badges of honor,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. 

Feyd’s chuckle is your favorite sound. You rarely heard it before your wedding—he was always too stressed over you, concerned about your well-being—but you became addicted the moment it hit your ears. 

You wince at the discomfort of him finally pulling out, and your body instinctively follows as if to keep him where he was. When he falls onto his back, he tucks you into his side. 

“What do you think it’ll be?” he suddenly asks you.

You’re momentarily thrown off until you realize where his mind has shifted. Snuggling against him, you say, “I don’t care. As long as it’s healthy.”

“It will be,” he says.

“And as long as we can keep it safe,” you add.

Feyd swallows. You know there’s a part of him that is aware the life you have is not the life you were meant to have; that this life is a product of your lack of safeguarding; that you were taken as a prize; that he took you. And no matter the joy you’ve expressed or your previous unwillingness to consider leaving him—not that he ever entertained returning you—trying to have a child has made it impossible for him to forget how you met. He struggles. Something in you appreciates that about him. It means you helped to change him for the better. It means when he becomes a father, he will approach it differently than his own parents once did. 

“We can,” he promises you. “And we will.”

[ellemarianne555]

Mother Issues

Summary: Aegon’s new wife is a Hightower and he isn’t sure how he feels about this. Fluffy smut.

Author’s note: this is so fluffy and self-indulgent and my first time ever writing smut so if it’s cringey and too much plot I’m sorry! Please leave feedback, I know my grammar can be iffy sometimes xoxo

Content warning: mdni, slight mommy kink, implied breeding kink, severe praise kink, heavy mommy issues and mentions of alcoholism and childhood neglect. Aegon is a dick for half of this but don’t worry he comes right in the end (literally lol).

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

With your long wavy hair and big unblinking eyes, the court had been whispering about how much you resembled a young Alicent since you were a girl. Your father was a brother to Otto, and rumours had long been rife that Otto had laid with your mother and had her married hastily to his kin to cover the scandal. You knew this wasn’t true though, as your mother was devoted to your father and you possessed his wit and kindness as well as your grandmother’s looks that had seduced Viserys into making your cousin, Alicent, his wife.

The rumours and gossip became even more pronounced when you were betrothed to Aegon. The sulky young King with his disheveled blonde hair and the pouty lips stained permanently red from the wine he had been known to imbibe. Aegon had thrown a fit when he heard you were to be married as he petulantly resented anything to do with his distant mother and belittling grandfather. He barely talked to you on your wedding night, since he had gotten so drunk that when he stumbled into your bed early in the morning he was unable to perform his marital duties. Flushing red, sweating and swearing to all who would listen that it was his wife and her Hightower features that were to blame; you two become even more distant as you became married in name alone.

So you kept to your chambers, armed with your ladies in waiting and mountains of mind-numbing embroidery to hide from the shame of a husband who couldn’t stand you. You heard that Aegon was busy with his whores down in the Street of Silk and though your ladies pushed you to take a handsome young lover, you were committed to the Faith and your role as a dutiful wife.

Time passed and you seemed to see even less of your husband as he struggled with the roles and responsibilities of being in charge of the realm. You heard snippets of fights and arguments, the rare times you ventured outside of your apartments for more reading materials, between Aegon and his councillors as he fought to have his voice heard and opinions valued.

Doors banged and shouting echoed down the hallway to your bed chamber as you heard arguing through the cracks of the stone wall.

“But it isn’t my fault!”, one voice said as another voice became more clear.

“How can you expect anyone to take you as their King when you can’t even prove yourself as a man?” Angrily responded another voice, that you recognised as that of your mother-in-law.

Your husband and his mother were arguing. About you. In front of your bed chamber.

Suddenly the door flew open as Aegon burst in, scowling and seething with anger.

“Are you happy now? I’m in her damn chambers and I’ll fuck her until you have all the precious heirs you want!”.

You nearly stabbed stabbed your thumb with a needle as you jumped out of your perch of a wide cushion nestled into the window. Fortunately your ladies were not there to witness your mouth open and close in sheer shock as your husband entered.

For not the first time, you wondered how miserable your life could be that when the man you were married to entered your room, that it was as shocking as though if Vhagar had started wearing gowns and demanding weekly tea parties in their honour. Shaking the image out of your mind, you could see your husband grit his teeth in frustration.

The door clanged heavily behind you and you heard short angry footsteps disappear down the hallway until you were both alone. For the second time in your marriage since you had stood at the altar, you were alone with your husband. But for all his cruel words that had passed around the court and confined you to these chambers in humiliation, you weren’t scared of him. He looked slightly small in fact. With his lips trembling and eyes glistening he looked more like a furious king and more like a lost boy.

He scowled at you, with his lower lips jutting out in such a way that you felt more like wiping his cheeks then scolding him for the embarrassment and isolation he had put you through.

“I’ll have to stay here.” He said petulantly. “For at least a few hours until Mother thinks my duty has been performed.”

He looked over to where your abandoned embroidery lay and his upper lip curled in disdain.

“I see there’s nothing to entertain myself with, so I might as well sleep.” He looked pointedly at you upon saying the word “entertain”, but again it seemed to came off as less hurtful but sulky and strangely self-conscious.

“What do you do to pass the time in here? Seeing as you never bother to come to court.”

Your mouth gaped open again as you realised that your husband was actually talking to you for once, instead of at you.

“W-well, I embroider.”

His eyes rolled nearly to the ceiling.

“A-and I read.” Your voice choking in your throat as his red rimmed stare snapped to your trembling lips.

“Really? I thought it wasn’t becoming of such a high-born lady to entertain herself with such foolish pursuits.”He said mockingly, and instead of rising to his disdain, you laughed.

“It seems I am not the only one in this marriage who amuses themselves with frivolity.”

His nostrils flared in anger as you realised that in your attempt to jest, you had instead struck a delicate nerve.

“I am not as foolish as you or this court believe you know. I have a great interest in my family’s history and that of the realm. Of course everyone just assumes that there is nothing else to me but the drinking and the whoring.”His mouth curled upwards in a way that showed you he had long been used to demeaning himself in front of others .

“I’m sorry.” You paused hesitantly, “I just don’t know how to talk to you. It seems like we are more strangers than when I had never met you.”

“Well, you don’t have to treat me as if I were an idiot. I get enough of that from my own kin.”

Again, you felt a pit form in your stomach as you thought how it must of been to grow up feeling lesser than. You had had not exactly an idyllic childhood in Old Town, but you knew your parents loved you. Even if they were misguided enough to agree to betroth you to a man who clearly hated you.

You tried again, “I’m sorry. I also find the stories of our history fascinating.”You held out a worn copy of folklore and fairytales from under one of the cushions from your childhood, one of the only things you had managed to take with you from home.

“You’re reading children’s stories?” Aegon scoffed.

“They’re not really stories at all. They introduce the stories of our past to children so they take an interest in the way things came to be. My favourite is how Visenya Targaryen and how she conquered the Vale.”

“Really?” Aegon said catching himself quickly before he sounded too interested.

“When I was younger I always dreamed of being like her, so strong and brave.”

“So did I.” He said almost begrudgingly.

“It must be hard. To grow up with a brother who often thinks less of you and diminishes your accomplishments.”

Aegon blinked, again surprised at how this woman who he had pushed away so harshly seemed to know him so well.

“I was just finishing this chapter. I could read it aloud? If that is alright with you, your grace.”

He nodded stiffly and sat at the edge of the window seat as though he were afraid to come any closer.

You patted the worn cushion next to him and smiled, “I don’t bite, my lord.” You teased. Again a smile seemed to escape from him as he slowly inched closer.

As the chapter progressed and the pages turned you noticed that your husband was falling asleep, first on your shoulder then burrowing down to your lap. You stiffened, unsure of whether to wake him but you decided that he seemed in need of a good rest and slowly wound his straggly blond hair through your fingers.

Before you had realised, you too had drifted to sleep. Only woken by a soft chiming of the bells from the Sept declaring that it was late at night, and a rather peculiar stiffness poking into your thigh.

Your eyelashes fluttered open, only to look down and see your husband, mouth slightly agape and sleeping peacefully. You realised what had happened, he had clearly brushed against you by accident and gotten aroused.

Trying to be respectful, you gently tried to move his head out of your lap. His eyes snapped open, blinking as he tried to place where he was.

“You look very beautiful when you sleep.” You blurted out softly as though scared he would bolt. His cheeks blushed a delicate shade of pink as he looked down and noticed his cock as though for the first time.

Scrambling out of your lap, he tried to cover himself with a pillow while cursing angrily with himself.

“I-it’s okay, you know.”

He froze, unsure of how to respond. So you decided not to let him.

“It happens to me too.” His eyebrows knit together in confusion as he was unsure if you were saying what he thought you were saying. That you also dreamed of him? And you felt the same attraction you denied yourself when awake?

“We don’t choose our thoughts when we dream. You must have been dreaming of a beautiful woman or an old lover perhaps.”

He frowned, if only you knew that it was you he wanted. Why had he pushed you away so much? Because he resented the lack of choice? Because he was so determined to despise anything related to his mother? The woman who had been so absent and cold towards him throughout his childhood, yet was unable to see why he drank and surrounded himself with whores to cope with the emptiness he felt.

You looked at him again, worried that you had somehow upset him. “You can go back to sleep, you know. I don’t mind.” You said, patting the cold space in your lap where he had been.

He smiled softly, and shyly lay back down.

How odd this man was, you thought. One moment he was fire and hatred but the next he seemed so lost and scared.

You started humming to yourself quietly as you again stroked his face. His eyes cracked open again.

“What is that song? It sounds familiar.”

“It’s just a song we sing to children in Old Town. My mother taught it to me so that maybe I could one day sing it to my own.”.

“It’s nice.” Aegon said gruffly and closed his eyes once more.

The rhythm and lyrics poured out of your mouth as you sang a nursery rhyme praising the child that grew in your belly, promising they would grow to be strong and that you were proud of him. It was an old song said to promote fertility and help form a bond through the womb.

Suddenly, you noticed something again poking into your lap as your husband blushed red with shame.

“M-mommy” he choked out in heaving gasps, his greasy hair wrapped around your fingers as you froze, tugging the roots sharply. The whimper of pain he released sounded almost like a moan and looking down you noticed the damp spot on his breeches.

Aegon jumped up as though he had been doused in icy water and backed up against the door. His chest falling and rising with small gasping hiccups.

You realised that this was probably the first time anyone had shown him the tenderness he so desperately craved, and that he had been seeking in the bottom of his cups and the bottoms of well, prostitutes. It was only natural that these feelings of shame had combined with arousal, and how he was attracted to the softness he had never known but always craved. You smiled kindly, reassuringly as if to let him know it was alright.

“I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s alright,” you said speaking to him slowly with your hands reached out, as though you were tying to tame a horse rather than a king with serious mother issues. “You can call me whatever you need.”

His lips were still quivering as more tears leaked out of his eyes and caught on his round chin before trickling down below his shirt.

“I am so sorry.” He whispered, so faintly it took a few seconds to sink in.

“It’s alright.” you repeated.

“N-no, it’s not. The moment I saw you I thought you were the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. But then I became aware of the comments about your resemblance to my mother and I became so angry and confused at how someone I could desire so much could resemble someone who hates me so.”

You froze. Then before you knew it you were up against the door, pinning him to the cold iron that seemed to only increase the heat between your bodies.

He looked into your eyes, and you slowly traced the tears that had fallen down his soft chin and placed your finger in your mouth. As if to show him you wanted all of him. His sadness, his love, his unease.

Your husband seemed to snap at the image of your plump mouth slowly sucking the finger inside and gripped the back of your head, as he wound his shaking fingers around your long wavy hair. The kiss was searing, harsh and longing as you seemed to fall down and down into the feelings you had been denying for so long.

His length was aching and hard against your thigh as you suddenly pulled yourself from his embrace. Breathing heavily, you moved to untie his breeches. But he surprised you yet again. And got down on his knees.

This time it was you pressed against the door, as he lifted your skirts hurriedly only to look up questioningly as though asking your permission.

“I know I’ve been a cunt. But I hope that I can show you how sorry I am.” He grinned broadly as he waited for your approval.

“It’s fine, Aegon. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“Well, my wife you clearly don’t know me very well if you think I would find tasting your sweetness unpleasant. Let me make amends…With my tongue.”

As soon as your head let out a shaky nod, not sure whether to believe what was happening. He was back under your skirts. Licking and tasting like this was the first meal he had all day, knowing him it was probably the first that wasn’t liquid.

You had never felt such an intense pleasure before, never in your nights of touching yourself under your sheets, your shaking fist shoved in your mouth as you thought of the stories your ladies had told you of all the ways a man could please a woman. As you thought of how beautiful your husband had looked in his armour the day he was crowned, so unsure and so vulnerable. You really seemed to have a weakness for sad men. But mainly just him, just your husband who was licking and sucking at you as he deadly slipped his tongue between your folds.

You cried out as he slowly breached your entrance with his finger.

“Is this alright?” He said worriedly as he looked up for your approval.

“Of course, sweet boy.” And in response your husband groaned, deep and full. His efforts redoubled as he sought to press his fingers inside at you at the point your inner walls started to crumble and be torn down by his efforts. Crying out in ecstasy, you collapse to the floor. His head still in your hands as he looked up at you adoringly, chin glistening with your release as he proudly smirked and wiped it off with the back of his hand.

You sat there together. On the floor for a moment. As you thought of how misunderstood the man who rested his head in the crook of your neck was. At how he loved you, every part of you. Even the parts that resembled his mother. Because maybe with at was what he needed. To see a version of himself, reflected in yourself as kindness. And maybe he wasn’t afraid anymore. Of loving you so entirely.

You smiled at him softly as he panted into your shoulder and you noticed how the hardness in his breeches had only grown fiercer and more pulsing.

“May I?”, you spoke, gazing into his eyes and now he was the one who was shy as he nodded gently.

Reaching into his trousers, you took his cock in your hands. “Pretty.” You could not help yourself say. You worriedly glanced at your husband only to find his face bright red yet again. He pulsed in your hands and you realised what he needed. What he had been denied for so long.

“Such a good boy.” You murmured into his neck. The reaction was instant, his head burrowed further into your chest as he moaned low and unashamed.

“You’re doing so well. Being such a perfect boy for me. So so pretty.”

He latched on to your breast, yanking them out of your gown fiercely as he began to suck harshly on your nipples. You moaned, as you increased your efforts on his aching red cock.

“You’re a good man, Aegon.” You choked out between sighs, “You’d be such a good father to our children, I’d be honoured to be their mother.”At these words, your husband pulsed furiously and exploded into your palm.

Shaking from pleasure, he again rested his head in your lap. Looking up at you as though you were still strangers and he was still shy, despite his tongue having been inside your cunt moments before.

“D-did you mean that?”

“Mean what?”

“That I’d be a good father. That you’d want to have children with me.”

“Of course. I couldn’t think of anything I’d want more. Stop denying yourself the love you want to give and receive, from me, from any children we may have.”

He smiled at this, like the sun was breaking across a clouded sky. Like he was seeing what his lifecould be for the first time.

“Well.” Your husband grinned; “I think we should start trying to make children more productively.”As he again pushed you to the floor, both of you laughing and smiling as he kissed you again and again.

[starogeorgina]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐧

Warnings: Incest, light smut, swearing, cheating

Pairing: Cregan Stark x reader, Aemond Targaryen × reader

1.01

Your eyes glistened with tears as they dribbled down your cheeks. You swallow back the bile rising and rub at your temples with your free hand, bringing yourself back to reality. You could only stare up at the empty sky for so long while imagining what it would be like to be an actual dragon, free to go wherever you want.

“He’s been feeding for some time,” Aemond says softly. “His stomach must be full.”

“I know how to feed my babe. He’ll stop latching on when he’s no longer hungry.”

Aemond, who was still standing on the opposite side of the room, slowly starts to approach you. “I mean know offensive wife, I know you care for him without fault.”

You say nothing.

A few moments pass, and your babe finally lets go of your breast. When you wipe milk from his mouth, he starts to fuss. “There, there,” you coo. “There’s nothing to cry over, my little Prince; time for bed.”

Gently you put Maitland into the cot placed beside your bed; only after you’re sure he’s settled do you finally make eye contact with Aemond. His eye is glossy with tears. “You had your belongings moved from our bedchamber.”

Aemond attempts to touch your shoulder, but you shrug him off.

“Twas only a matter of time, wasn’t it? Before you betrayed me.” Your voice cracks and your stomach churns. “I will not share a bed with a man who puts his precious whore before his family and lies to my face.”

“If Aegon—”

“Do not blame him for letting me know how much of a fool I was. Singing your praises, bearing your child, bragging how I had the perfect husband. I needed you by my side, Aemond, but instead of being there, you were coddled by that old whore.”

His lip twitches, “And what do you purpose we do now? I’m still your husband. We have a child together; you must hold some love for me.”

“When Maitland is older, we will perform our duty again, but until then, nothing. No more dragon riding, no more attending plays together, no walks in the garden. When we walk by each other in the halls, we will say nothing.”

“None of it needs to be this way in truth.”

The raw emotion in his voice is surprising, but you refuse to budge. Give into your emotions. Aemond broke something inside. You whisper, “It’s too late.”

His sight goes to the cot, and you could see the wheels of panic turning.

“You are free to spend as much time with our son as you wish; just try not to disappoint him as you have me.”

Five years later

Breathing in the scent of dragon, you bury your nose deeper into the crook of Aemond’s neck. The smell brings you comfort, a warmth you don’t get from your husband.

Pushed up against the cold wall in your chambers, you wait for Aemond to finish fucking you as if you were a bitch in heat. Aemond was completely nude, while your body was concealed by your green dress. Aemond lets go of your hip and pinches your nipple; he smirks, feeling the way you arch your back.

Your fingers cling to his hair, “fuck, harder.”

Aemond speeds up his thrust, his hips slapping against yours. The maester had worked out the best time during each moon for his seed to take, and it was one of the few times you’d interact. There were times you felt lonely and sought out his comfort, but each time you went to his bedchambers they were empty.

He was with her.

Trying to fall in love with Aemond again was as painful as reopening an old wound.

“Gods,” he grunts, spilling his seed. His lips graze your ear. “It’s been too long since we did this.”

“Yes, well…” You brush by him and begin putting your stockings back on. “We have much to do in the name of our king.”

While redressing, Aemond frowns watching you walk towards the door. “Where are you going? The handmaidens are coming shortly to help you get ready.”

“To see my boy.”

“He’s asleep.”

“I know that, Aemond,” you deadpan. “It doesn’t matter what I’m wearing. Once I arrive, I’ll need to bathe before formally meeting with Lord Stark. I don’t imagine northerners will appreciate the strong smell of dragon after a long journey.”

A sound that resembles chuckle leaves his lips.

When your grandsire first proposed sending dragon riders as envoys, you offered to fly the longest journey north. Helaena did not wish to participate; Daeron was in Old Town, and Aegon needed to remain in the keep, leaving only you and Aemond to bicker over what houses you’d visit.

In the privacy of the small council with only Aegon and yourself, your grandsire speaks freely. “Mayhaps it would be better if the princess went to treat with Lord Cregan at Winterfell. He is young but fierce and may be persuaded by the gentle heart of a woman rather than threats.”

It was known Stark didn’t break oaths, but you had an ulterior motive for volunteering.

“I do not need a fancy dress to go dragon riding. I will see my son before going to the dragon pit.” You bite at your nails while contemplating what to say next. “Be safe, brother.”

—

“Princess.”

Disappointment strikes you as soon as you see Ser Criston standing post outside your bedchamber. You start walking down the hallway, knowing the knight would follow close behind. “Where is my sworn shield?”

“I took over his shift.”

Scoffing, you glare at him. “Scared I’ll tell my husband of your dirty little secret?”

“Not at all princess; I know the love you hold for the dowager queen and wouldn’t risk tarnishing her name.”

If the hour wasn’t late and you weren’t near your son's nursery, the knight would have received the sharpness of your tongue. But you had no intention of waking Maitland.

“You’ve become too comfortable around dragons, Ser Criston. If it was one of my brothers who walked in, they would have been burned in flames by now.”

Your demeanor changes when you reach the nursery, “Ser Arryk.”

“Princess,” he opens the door for you. “Lord commander.”

Ameond had personally chosen Ser Arryk to be Maitland's shield, and it was a wise decision. “Ser Arryk, during my absence there's naught to be changed to my son's customs.”

“I won’t let him out of my sight, princess.”

—

When you arrived at Winterfell, you were informed Lord Stark wasn’t in his castle but at Castle Black. After accepting a warm meal and a chance to clean up, you fly on Dragonback to the wall, much to the horror of the men of the night’s watch.

“Most of them thought you were coming to burn us.”

You chuckle, “Fear is common in the presence of a dragon, but I suppose the rangers who scout beyond the walls will have much worse things to fear.”

“They are a sight to behold. My father brought King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne to see the Wall; it’s an honor to lay eyes on the same dragons he did. Although I am surprised you are alone, princess.”

“Vermithor and Silverwing are deeply connected and cannot be parted easily.”

When you reach the top of the wall, you take each step with caution; ice and snow weren’t something you were accustomed to walking on. Lord Stark notices and does his best to hide the smile on his face.

“Do they both have riders?”

You smile proudly, “Silverwing is bonded with my son. He is too young and small to mount her yet, but the dragon keepers think he will be ready in a couple of years.”

“Many of the ladies in Winterfell laugh that I won’t allow my son, Rickon, who is seven, to travel to the wall with me.”

You continue making small talk about your children, and you learn Lord Stark’s wife died in childbirth. He stops walking when you reach a spot in the middle of the wall that faces the forest, which is believed to be haunted. The longer you stare at it, the darker it becomes, just like you had foreseen in your head.

“I’ll speak freely with you, princess; Starks do not forget their oaths, and my father swore our house and bent the knee to the king's chosen heir in front of King Viserys and princess Rhaenyra. You must know that regardless of who sits on the throne, my gaze will forever be torn between north and south.”

“Thank you, my lord, for being honest.” Your reaction of understanding instead of anger seems to surprise him. “When winter comes, your strength will be needed here more than in King's landing. Your men are the guardians against the cold and the dark.”

He cocks his head; the look in his eyes is hard to read. “Most people outside our lands think the wall was built to keep out wildings and weather.”

“Death sleeps beneath the ice.”

[lis-likes-fics]

At the End of the Day

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x wife!Reader Word Count: 4k words Kink: Cockwarming Warnings: NSFW, smut, arguing, unprotected sex, fingering, desk sex, creampie, swearing... A/N: Nothing much to say for this one. Hope you enjoy and thank you! <3

He’s stuck behind his desk. Again. He’s got his pen in hand and a multitude of papers sprawled out on his desk as he works and works and works.

He’s been like this all week, buried under paperwork as you handle the children and the maids and the rest of the family. When he isn’t behind his desk, he’s out on business with Polly or his brothers or at a social event with you for the same business as Polly and his brothers. You could properly count on two hands the number of minutes he’s spent with the children or with you collectively.

You miss him. The kids miss him. You hate that he has to work so much.

“Tommy,” you whisper from the doorway of his office, knocking on the heavy door quietly as you look at him.

He hums deeply but doesn’t look up. Stuck in his work, he takes a drink from his glass and keeps his pen moving. His cigarette is still smoking in the ashtray set to the side, not quite finished yet. You sigh, saying his name again. Not so sweetly this time. “Thomas.”

He sighs and looks up, but his pen is still set firmly between his fingers. “Yes, dear?” he responds. He’s exhausted, you can tell, but he’s good at pretending he isn’t. You’re just better at knowing that he is. You stay by the door, looking at him as your eyes dart down to his pen. He looks down at it and sighs.

Tommy sets down his pen, a peace offering. He gestures toward you. “Come. Come in.”

You step forward, taking your time in coming into his office as you close the door gently behind you. You approach his desk, and he watches you walk toward him and come to a stop. You lean on the dark wood, your fingers pressing into it as you look at him.

“The children miss you,” you speak gently.

He hums, picking up his pen again. “I’ll tuck them in tonight.”

“Too late. They’re already in bed.” You sigh when he begins writing, rolling your eyes.

“Well,” he mutters, “that’s that, isn’t it?”

You clench your jaw, your eyes fluttering at the audacity of his words. You hum, watching as he writes, the sound of pen scratching paper filling the room as he gets back to work. He hadn’t even lasted a minute. You should know, you counted. He made it thirty-eight seconds between putting down his pen and letting it touch his hand once more.

“When I tucked in August tonight–” you snatch the pen forcefully out of his hand, ignoring the way he sighs as you slap it down onto the desk and look at him. It takes him a moment to look you in the eyes so you would continue, “–he asked if he’d done something wrong. He asked me if Daddy still loves him and his sister.”

In his eyes, you can see the regret beginning to blossom there. But as quickly as it comes, he’s masked once again in exhaustion and duty. “I–”

“I’m not finished,” you interrupt. He glances away but immediately looks back at you, knowing you won’t speak unless he’s looking in your eyes. “Delia wants to know why Daddy doesn’t brush her hair after she wakes up anymore. She said she’s scared that you got tired of her.”

That hurts him even more. His jaw twitches as he processes. “My–”

“I am still not finished.”

He sighs. With a shrug, he says, “We’ve only got two children.”

You close your eyes, clenching your jaw once more to show your frustration. He doesn’t speak again, allowing you the floor. “And you’ve got one wife who wants to know why you’re letting business come before family. Family above all else, that’s what it is. That’s what the whole fucking family is about, Tommy.”

He waits a moment to know if you’ll speak again, not wanting to interrupt you and feed your anger. He speaks slowly, “I’ll take the children into town tomorrow. We’ll spend time together.”

“And then you’ll go back to work.”

“I work for them, for you,” he says, his voice raising a bit. “I do all of this to keep you all safe and happy.”

You sigh, chuckling lightly as you shake your head. “Tommy, the kids are happier when they get to see their father. Spending time with them for a single day and disappearing for another month isn’t going to make them fucking happy!”

He doesn’t want to fight with you. He understands what you’re saying, and he’s frustrated that his efforts are not being understood, but he doesn’t want to fight. He looks at you, and he can see that you’re just as tired as him. He sighs, backing down before you both end up in a screaming match. Screaming at each other won’t fix anything.

He rubs his eyes and picks up his glass, taking a sip from it and setting it down gently in hopes of easing his nerves. He looks at you, staying quiet for a long time. You take his silence for what it is, a moment to breathe. So you take a breath and lift your hand, removing the crushing weight of your palm from his pen. He doesn’t look at it.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I’ll spend more time with the kids. They shouldn’t be missing their father.”

You sigh, looking around the room in an effort to level your voice. “It’s not just them who’s missing you, Tom.” You look back at him. “We don’t even sleep in the same room anymore. You’re always down here on this fucking couch or back in Small Heath on ‘business’. I can’t remember the last time you held me, the last time you touched me.”

He sighs. You watch his shoulders fall. “Come here,” he bids softly.

You shake your head, removing your hands from his desk and taking a step back. “No.”

“Come here,” he says again, not as softly.

You blink away from him, a heavy sigh leaving you as you make yourself move. You walk toward him, rounding the desk to his side. He reaches a hand out to your side. You begin to jerk away from him, but he’s not having it. He pulls you in, both hands on your hips as he turns his chair to face you.

Tommy looks up at you, resting his chin on your belly as his thumbs caress your sides. It feels good. Really good, you almost melt into his touch. But you don’t want to give him the satisfaction as you place your hands over his and pretend like you’re trying to push him away. He’s unconvinced, but he plays along.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. Two sorries in one night…you must have won the lottery. “I know you don’t want to hear me say it…but I have a little more work to finish tonight–” you go to push him off with a scoff, but he holds you tightly and raises his voice a bit above your frustration, “–and then I will tend to your needs. I promise you.”

“Tommy–”

“I promise,” he insists.

You look at him, wanting to be angry but finding yourself helpless at the sight of his normally cold eyes staring up at you with more warmth than anyone else—besides his children—would ever receive. You sigh heavily, rubbing your temples and refusing to look at him as you speak. “Fine.”

He actually smiles, breathing a gentle laugh. “As a matter of fact,” one of his hands slides down your side and ducks underneath your nightgown, “I can do two things at once.”

He pushes your panties to the side with his fingers and presses his thumb to your clit. Your hips jerk away from him at the sudden touch and you speak, annoyed that your voice comes out as a whisper. “Tommy.”

“Shh,” he kisses your belly over your gown. “Let me take care of you.”

He slides his fingers over your folds, swiping back and forth along the length of them before slipping between them. Your eyes flutter at the feeling, leaning into his touch a little more as his thumb continues to tease you. You set your hands on his shoulders, holding yourself steady as he watches you react to him.

You moan slightly when his finger pushes inside of you, parting your lips to delve deeper. He works it into you as the arousal begins to seep. “Good girl,” he bids, feeling you begin to slick up for him, just enough for him to add a second finger inside you. You grip his shoulders a little tighter.

He pumps them slowly, massaging inside you as you begin to move your hips to the rhythm. You’re becoming faster than you would have liked, enjoying his touch too much after being without it for too long. “Tommy,” you whisper, a little whinier now that he’s got you worked up. He can see your nipples poking through your gown now.

“Just like that, come on,” he whispers. “Get nice and wet for me.”

His voice washes over you like velvet. You find yourself succumbing to him. You lean against him, into his touch, accepting his truce. His thumb massages your clit some more, making sure you’re nice and ready for him as he feels his cock stiffening in his pants.

After a moment, he pulls his fingers out of you. You grunt, your frustration returning at the loss of stimulation. You open your eyes and look at him again. You huff. “If you want me calm, this isn’t the way to do it.”

He chuckles, reaching a hand toward his belt as he begins to undo it. He just tells you to hush (in a kinder way) and pulls his cock out as he fixes his seat. You consider for a moment before relenting. You bring one leg over him, hovering over his lap in a straddle. You watch him as you grab his cock and line it up with your pussy, slowly sinking down on him and closing your eyes at the pleasant stretch. You moan gently. He breathes a little heavier, his hands on your waist tightening as you take him deeper and deeper.

When you’re sitting in his lap, you both let out a relieved sigh as you rest your forehead on his shoulder. You stifle a moan and begin to grind your hips, but he quickly stops you with his hands gripping your waist. You huff, but it comes out as a whine. “What?”

“I still have to work, darling.” “You can work later,” you argue.

He chuckles breathily. “Yes, but I’ll be able to pay more attention to you if this gets done first.” He raises his hands to your face, brushing his thumbs over your cheeks. “You’ve just got to sit there and be still. I’ll take good care of you.”

You try not to pout. It would be too bratty, and you need him to take you seriously. But you do pout, and he does think you’re bratty, and he takes you seriously anyway. “How long is this going to take?”

He glances at the papers on his desk and considers for a moment. “Ten minutes.”

You roll your eyes and groan. “Hurry up.”

He kisses your jaw and retrieves his pen, tapping your bottom and telling you to be a good girl while he works. You sit and wait, keeping yourself still with more trouble than you think it's worth as the stagnant stretch of his cock feeds your hunger and refuses to quench it.

He braces his hand on your back as he works. You rest your head in the crook of his shoulder, your fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his neck.

When you grind your hips absent-mindedly, searching for some friction, he lightly smacks you with a low grunt. “Stop moving.” You hum lightly, refusing to apologize but choosing to listen.

He's so warm, and he fills you so well. The urge to roll your hips once more fills your thighs, but you remain as still as you can, little moans and whimpers in his ear acting as your only act of defiance. He was thick, sitting so deep inside you as you clenched to feel him pulse.

It's been too long. You don't know how much time has passed, but you're reaching your limit as your desire for him after being neglected for too long grew to unthinkable depths. He's right here. You might as well take what you can.

“How long has it been?” you complain, pulling away to look at his face.

He doesn't look at you, but you can see the slight turn of the corner of his lips as he replies. “Nearly finished.”

“How much is nearly?” you question, raising a brow at him.

He turns his eyes on you. “Nearly.”

But you're sick of waiting. You need something, anything, right here and now before you keel over dead. You roll your eyes, “That's enough for me.”

You roll your hips atop his lap, moaning deeply in your throat at the pleasure that blossoms at the feeling. He grunts, holding your hip tighter and gripping the pen as though it were a lifeline.

“Love, I–”

Your words lift from a moan as you shake your head. “No,” you take his pen once more and toss it across the room, “I'm more important than whatever it is you're working on. Otherwise you would have sent me away the moment you could.” You take his face in your hands and pull him close to yours, your lips just barely touching, your voice low and frustrated. “It's my turn.”

He stares at you, awaiting your next move in silence. But you don't move, against your greater impulses, you sit still and stare back.

His lips crash against yours, a bruising kiss that begs your attention just as much as yours begs his. You moan into his mouth as his hands tighten around your hip and hold the base of your head.

He grunts into you, enjoying the taste of your lips as he guides your hips, grinding you down on top of him as he devours you.

The pleasure is quick to overtake you, sinking into every limb and flicking at every nerve. You're dripping onto his lap as you lift yourself up on shaky legs. The puddle of slick you've created just from sitting there for who-knows-how-long would be embarrassing if you hadn't been in this position so many times, being filled up by Tommy's cock.

You lift yourself until the tip of him is embedded inside you, the flex of your thighs making you tighter as you do. When you drop back down it forces rough moans from both of you as you grip onto one another for dear life.

You do it again, setting a rhythm as the electric feeling of the thrusts spreads through you. The sound of your thighs smacking into his lap fills the room with the steady pace, creating a sinful beat for your love to keep time with.

And the bliss of finally being tended to is good, but it isn't enough. You need more.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and bury your face in his neck, moaning meekly and rolling your hips. “Tommy,” you whimper, your voice a gentle plea, a helpless whisper, an innocent manipulation. “Tommy, I need you.”

He tries not to shudder at the way you sound, pleading in his ear. He holds you tighter.

“What do you need, darling?” His voice is rough and full of breath, eager to smell your perfume and taste the liquor on your lips.

“More,” you hum, followed by another whimper only half-real as you grind yourself once more. “I need more.”

He knows what you're doing. He knows all your tricks, all the little ways you get him to do exactly what you want. He knows the voice you use, the breaths you take, the way your eyes focus on him, the way you hold him just a little differently. He knows everything.

But at the end of the day, he is just a man who loves his wife. A man who would do anything to see her happy.

He strokes a hand down the back of your hair, his parted lips passing shallow breaths. Nevertheless, he pulls you from his shoulder. “I'm not giving you anything until you say ‘please’.”

You lick your bottom lip between your teeth, stifling a moan as you decide whether or not you'll obey. But you do. With your palms at the sides of his neck, you speak. “Please, Tommy,” you beg softly. “Please give me more.”

He considers you, stalling just to make you squirm before picking you up and putting you on the desk, ignoring the pages and pages he lays you on. They're mostly done. He'll finish them eventually and let them go to whoever it needs to go to, still smelling of sex and the perfume you wear if it must. He doesn't care, he just needs you.

He holds you by the back of your legs, kissing the side of your knee as he stares at you the whole time. You watch him fondly, your breath shallow in your chest. He slips his hands down your thighs to hold your hips, lining himself back up with you and sinking inside once again.

Your eyes close and you purse your lips, a moan slipping through at the feeling. He presses himself inside you, rubbing against that deep part of you that makes your eyes roll. “Mm, Tommy.”

He sighs deeply, pulling out and pushes back in to set a steady pace. He starts with long, slow strokes that eventually build into a slew of quick, rough thrusts. You moan as you lay your head back against the desk, closing your eyes and trying to stay quiet as you gripped the desk behind your head. Your limbs tingle with the feeling of the pleasure spreading throughout your system. You clench around his cock and bury your face in your arms. You wrap your legs around his waist and bite your lower lip with the smallest grunts.

“Come on, love,” he rasps, his hair disheveled and his breath rough with exertion and desire. “You wanted this, don’t hide from me.” He reaches one hand out to gather your wrists in his palm. “Moan for me, darling. Look at me.”

You bring your attention to his face, your lashes fluttering with each little thrust inside your quivering pussy. You release your bottom lip from your teeth, setting free more whimpers and whines as your back rubs against the wood of his desk, the rock of his hips having you bouncing atop it.

He looks pretty. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide with lust as he gazes upon your body. For a moment, he wonders if he should take off your gown to see your naked body beneath him. But if he has to pull out of you before he’s finished, heads will roll. “Is this what you want? Eh?” he wonders aloud, letting go of your wrists to place your legs over his shoulders. You reach forward just enough to grab his waist, holding him close as the pleasure builds to wavering heights in both of you.

He presses his thumb to your clit, pulsing and in need of stimulation. “You needed me to fuck you nice and rough? Make it all up to you, eh?”

You nod sloppily, not paying too much attention to what he says as the pleasure gets closer and closer to that so desperately needed release. Your thighs tremble, the delicious shocks of desire bringing them to life as he continues to fuck into you.

“Tommy,” you gasp, dropping into a moan at the end of his name. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“You are, eh?” he teases, rubbing your clit just a little faster. “Have you said ‘please’?”

You mewl, helpless as you obey simply for your own satisfaction. He’s got you laying on his desk with his cock shoved in your cunt, and you’re moaning for him like the whores he used to fuck, but you’re still mad at him, even if you still love him with everything you’ve got.

“Please,” you moan. “Please let me cum, Tom.”

He grunts as he accepts, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he keeps on. “Alright,” he says. “Go on, love.”

The pleasure rises within you until you can’t hold it in anymore. With a thrust of his hips and a flick of his thumb, you fall apart as you close your eyes and lay your head back, your lips parting with a loud moan to let his name slip from your lips like honey. Your thighs tremble, your pussy flutters around him and pushes him over the edge.

A rough groan, bordering on a growl, erupts from his throat as he shoves his cock as deep inside you as he’ll go, grinding his hips to bury himself there. “Fuck,” he curses, your name rumbling in his chest. He spills inside you, rolling his hips into you as he does to fill you up with his warm spend. Your body tenses as you accept him, your lungs full of breath as your whimpers bleed into each little sigh until you feel the pleasure beginning to wane in the tingling of your toes.

He leans forward, towering over your body as his hips continue to thrust into you, his lips finding the junction of your neck and shoulders to taste your skin against his tongue. His kisses embed themselves in the fabric of your skin until they reach your lips, eager to slot into their natural place and become whole once more. The sounds he muffles into your mouth borders on a moan as his eager thrusts slow against the sensitivity of your pussy still coming down from your high.

You both linger there moments after you’ve returned to the earth through obligation. When you’ve come to yourself enough, wrap your arms around his neck and let out a long sigh, releasing the deep breath you’d taken moments before.

“Fuck,” you curse on a sigh, carding your fingers through his hair.

Tommy pulls his face from the crook of your neck and kisses you again, long and slow and almost possessive. He leans back to see your face, bringing his fingers up to brush them over your forehead, looking fondly into your eyes and searching your face for all of his favorite little features.

He sighs. “I don’t say it enough,” he says, his voice low and gentle and sincere. You stare back at him, stroking your knuckles along his jaw. “I love you, wife.” Your noses bump. You breathe each other’s air.

You breathe a little laugh, humming lightly. “No, you don’t say it enough.” You close the gap to kiss him again, a quicker kiss. “I’ll make sure you do.” You don’t return it, but he can see it in your eyes that you do, you do love him. He can see in your eyes just how much you can’t measure it. You don’t have to say it. He knows.

He taps your side, breaking away from you as he pulls out with a small sigh. He takes your hand and helps you to sit up. As you do, you take hold of his shirt and bring him close to your face. He thinks you’ll kiss him again.

“And, Thomas,” you smile a little, but he can see the threat lingering on your lips before they speak it, “if those words come out of my children’s mouths one more time, I’ll cut your cock off and feed it to you.”

Part of him wants to believe it’s just a threat—you love him (and his cock) too much. The other part knows it isn’t. You love your children more.

He smiles at you, nodding. He laughs as he says, “I love you, woman.”

You sigh on a hum, taking in the sight of his pretty face. “Hm… I know.”

Cillian Murphy taglist: @lyarr24​ @runnning-outof-time @goblinjnr @kmc1989 @shelbyism @weepingwitchofthewest @cl-0-vr @thoticious @sinarainbows @the-nerdy-goddess @urmomsgirlfriend1 Tag yourself here...

[brokenmenswhore]

Hi! Are you planning on writing a part 2 to Lessons? It was too good 🥵

lessons | aegon ii targaryen

part 2

pairing: aegon targaryen x fem!reader

summary: in search on the streets of silk for your husband, you find his brother in a compromising position

warnings: this is almost pure smut (MDNI 18+)

a/n: just wanted to say i’ve been treated to kindly and accepted into this community so wonderfully and so fast. you’ve all restored my faith in humanity. happy to have a place to be horny and angsty and feral without judgement :)

part 1

────── ☾ ──────

Aemond was not in attendance for breakfast. You apologized to Alicent, lying that you had forgotten he had told you he was traveling to Harrenhall first thing.

The truth was, you and Aegon returned to the Red Keep immediately after your rendezvous in the Street of Silk, and you had completely forgotten about Aemond until you arrived to breakfast and were asked about his absence.

“Not to worry,” Alicent smiled, “that boy is impossible, is he not?”

You laughed in response, “that he is.”

Breakfast was pleasant, apart from the constant staring from Aegon. You could tell he was still worked up, and coming back to the Red Keep meant he had to attend to his duties as King, which meant he had to wait.

And Aegon did not like waiting.

About mid-day, you were in the library with your handmaiden, when a member of the King’s Guard came to fetch you.

“His Grace has requested an audience with you in his chambers, My Lady,” he spoke.

You looked at him, confused. “It is but midday.”

The man in armor sighed. “Yes, My Lady.”

“Should he not be working?” you pressed.

“He says this is work related, My Lady.”

You knew better, but you also knew better than to deny your king.

You were escorted to Aegon’s apartment, not bothering to knock before you pushed the double doors open.

“Aegon, it is the middle of the day,” you said, watching as he turned around at the sound of your voice.

“God, finally, you take fucking forever,” he said, marching up to you and grabbing your waist, pulling your body against his as he enveloped you in a heated kiss.

You giggled, “could this not wait until late?”

Aegon continued to pepper kisses around your face and down your neck. “No,” he whined, “need you now. Waited long enough already.”

“Then why didn’t we just- shit, Aegon did you just bite me?” He just laughed in response and continued bruising your neck. “Why didn’t we just stay out then?”

“And face,” kiss, “the wrath,” kiss, “of my mother? Absolutely not,” kiss, “too risky.”

“‘Tis more risky to be caught by your mother away from the castle than to fornicate with your brother’s wife inside of it?”

Aegon paused for a moment and looked up at you. Suddenly, a hand was around your throat, as Aegon roughly pushed you into a wall.

“You’re mine, you know that? You aren’t his. I don’t care if you’re wed,” he pulled one of your legs up to his waist, granting him access to violently shove a finger inside of you, “I’m the one making you feel like this. In private, you’re mine.”

You cried out at the intrusion of his finger, hips bucking forward as you squirmed.

His hand moved from your throat, only for a brief moment, to slap your cheek.

“Do you understand?”

“Y- yes, My King.”

“Good girl.”

Aegon used both hands to grip under your thighs, lifting you up until your legs were wrapped around him, and carrying you over to the bed, slamming your back down on the side of it.

“Easy, Aeg.”

Aegon let out a growl at the nickname, “you want me to go easy on you? Is that it? You want me to be nice?” he questioned, “or do you want me to fuck you like you so desperately need to be fucked?”

This filthy words took you by surprise, despite your intimate position.

“I, I don’t-“

Aegon’s eyes searched yours for any sense of doubt at your current predicament. “We don’t have to do this, you know.”

“No! I want to, I do, I just- I’ve only actually done this once, and it wasn’t anything like what I saw today.”

Aegon’s cock hardened at your innocence. Even though you were wed to his brother, your body was his, and your pleasure would now be his and his only.

“Tell me if anything hurts,” was all Aegon said before he ripped your clothes off, doing the same for himself, and crawling on top of you.

“Is this what he did, hm? Is this all he taught you?” he asked, jealousy present as he slowly inserted himself into you, bottoming out and watching your face as you adjusted to his size, “did he get to see you like this? All pretty and teary-eyed? Did he make you feel like this?”

“No,” you whimpered.

Aegon began to move slowly, treating you as if you still had your maidenhood, wanting to warm you up before potentially hurting you.

You sighed and moaned lightly, throwing your head back and allowing Aegon to bite at your neck and shoulder again. “Mine.”

You clawed at his back, the feeling becoming too sweet, wanting more but not too sure how to ask for it.

“What is it, angel?” he noticed your frustrations.

“More,” you pleaded.

He smiled, capturing your lips in a kiss and he began to thrust faster and faster into you.

“Tell me how it feels,” he commanded.

“G- good,” you responded, inarticulate as you’d ever been.

“Is this how Aemond makes you feel?” he spat.

“N- no,” you responded, “on-on- shit, only you.”

“Good girl,” he cooed, fucking you hard and fast, splitting you open on his cock.

“Aegon?” you caught his attention.

“Mhm?”

“I still feel like I want more,” you sighed out.

Aegon smiled, pulling out of you completely.

“That’s the opposite of m-“

Without warning, Aegon flipped your body, pulling your waist so your ass was against his hardness. His dominate hand reached over your back to press your head into the mattress as he inserted himself back into you, the new sensation from the position making you grow even wetter.

Aegon snapped his hips harshly, watching your entire body fold in half as you lost any strength that was keeping your upper body from going completely slack against the sheets. You cried out at the pleasure, Aegon’s hand finding its way to your hair, balling your hair into his fist as he tugged.

Your neck swung back, not getting the memo.

“Up,” he demanded, pulling even harder at your hair as you helped push yourself up so your back was flush against Aegon’s chest, his cock hitting another new angle.

One of his hands remained on your waist, holding you close, as the other wrapped around your throat, his lips kissing your shoulder.

“Shit, angel, he doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Would you p- shit, would you please s-stop mentioning Aemond?” you asked, “don’t wanna t-hink about him. Only wanna t-hink ab-about you.”

Your words drove Aegon mad, his thrusts becoming even more erratic and harsh. “Is that what you think of when you feel like this, huh? You think about me?”

“Hm,” you hummed in response, having used all your energy to form your last sentence.

“No one else will ever make you feel like this,” he told you, not leaving any room for any question about it.

“Don’- don’t want anyone else,” you whined.

The hand around your throat found its way in between your legs, rubbing circles on your clit as you moaned out in pleasure.

“Filthy whore,” he spat, likening you the girls you had seen earlier that day, “you fucking love this, huh?”

Tears began to spill from your eyes from his words, as well as the feeling of his cock splitting you open and his hand working your clit. It was almost too much, but felt so, so good.

“Yes, M-My King.”

“You like being treated like those girls you saw today? Is that it? Poor baby just wants her king to split her open?”

His words made you moan, adding more to your pleasure.

He continued on, hitting a soft, spongy spot within you that felt like heaven.

A coil began to form inside of you, and Aegon could feel your walls tightening around him.

You pawed at him, unsure of what the feeling was, and nervous it meant something was wrong.

“Sh,” he purred, “it’s supposed to feel like that.”

You trusted him, allowing him to continue as the squeezing around his cock led him to his own high. His thrusts became particularly violent, causing the coil of tension to break within you as his seed spilled into you.

You threw your head back into his shoulder, attempting to catch your breath as Aegon stayed inside of you until his cock began to soften.

When he finally pulled out, you both crashed onto the mattress, his body staying close to yours as you finally calmed your breathing down.

“Did you, did you-“ you started, not sure how to phrase it.

“Don’t worry,” he caught your train of thought, “we’ll just get you some moon tea. You won’t end up with a bastard child.”

He completely forgot that you knew nothing about this stuff that he hadn’t already taught you. “What the hell is moon tea?”

[starcrossed-lov3rz]

The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 10

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Series: Series Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, yelling, plot

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra

Words: 1.2K

Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!

Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

“So the witch appeared to you in the godswood and claimed that you are the replacement for our y/n, who apparently died?” Daemon muses. He’s seated across from you, arms folded as he lounges back in the chair. 

You grip the mug of warm tea tighter, nodding.

“Forgive us for being skeptical my love,” Rhaenyra sighs as her hand grips your shoulder. “But if the witch was still within kings landing, the guards would have found her by now.”

Your frown deepens and you feel a twinge of pain begin behind your eyes. A migraine is threatening to begin. It was one thing for you husband and wife to not believe you before today. You thought surely that a witch disappearing before their eyes would be enough to convince them that some things just cannot be explained.

Pulling Rhaenyra’s hand from your shoulder, you squeeze it before dropping the necklace that witch gave you into her palm. “I understand this is difficult, Nyra,” you begin, “but she knew things that I hadn’t even told you and Daemon. This is the necklace my grandmother gave me.”

“Your grandmother has given you many gifts, love.” Daemon argues.

You groan in frustration, pulling the necklace from Nyra’s grip and pointing out the small engraving on the back. To My Dear Y/N 

“Daemon, do you honestly know a single goldsmith that could create this?”

Daemon doesn’t respond, looking at Rhaenyra instead. “My love, can we just move past this? You did not die months ago. You are not from a different reality.”

You stand up, pocketing your necklace as you walk away. Pausing in the doorway, you glance over your shoulder. “I love you both so much, but right now I cannot be around you.” “Y/n-” Daemon stands up to stop you.

“No.” You say, brushing his hand off of your shoulder. “I’m tired of this. I was fine with you not believing me before. But we all saw what happened in the small council chambers. You both saw me disappear in the godswood. You both saw my fucking necklace!”

“Tread carefully,” Rhaenyra says. “Mind your tone, I am still your queen.”

“And I’m your fucking wife!” you hiss. “Or does that only matter when I’m warming your bed and raising our children?!”

“This conversation is over,” Daemon orders. “You are clearly not in the right headspace to have this discussion.”

Daemon’s dismissal is enough to change your mind. Any plans you had to storm out were instantly gone. You stalk up to stand chest to chest with your husband. “You know what? This conversation isn’t over.”

“Y/n, the witch is just messing with your head-”

“No. That witch offered to take me home, and I turned her down.” You say. “I turned her down because I made the mistake of falling in love.” You’re crying, tears streaming down your face. “I fell in love with both of you. I love you, and our kids, and our dragons, and fuck it I even love needlepoint.” 

Rhaenyra and Daemon’s gaze softens. Daemon moves to wrap you in a hug, but you step back.

“If you can’t accept me for who I really am, then maybe this isn’t where I belong.” 

You turn around, walking out of the room. Rhaenyra follows, “where do you think you’re going?”

“Back to my world,” you say, navigating the maze of hallways to try and find the godswood. “The witch told me to return to the godswood if I wanted to leave.”

“You cannot, I forbid it,” Daemon says. He must have followed Rhaenyra. You couldn’t care less. They both could walk right up to the heart tree with you for all you care. 

“Oh you forbid it, do you?” you hiss. 

“Yes!” Daemon grabs your arm, pulling you towards him. 

You try to wrench your arm from his grip, but it’s useless. “So let me get this straight,” you say. “You refuse to believe that other realities are possible, but you forbid me from going to one?”

Daemon’s brows furrow, and his grip loosens for a second. Seeing your window of opportunity, you twist your arm from his grip and bolt out the last set of doors to the godswood. Daemon and Rhaenyra run after you. You’re sure the sight of the Queen and Prince Consort running through the keep is hilarious, but you don’t bother turning around to see.

You pick up your skirts as you run through the godswood, trying to avoid getting them caught on any brush or lower branches.

“Y/n, stop!” Daemon has caught up to you. He reaches over to stop you, but you manage to evade his hands. 

Lower hanging branches scratch at your arms as you duck and weave through the trees. The heart tree comes into sight, and you feel a twinge of sadness. Just hours ago you were planning to forsake your past life for the two people now chasing you through the woods. Your pace slows to a halt as you approach the heart tree. 

“Y/n, think about this,” Rhaenyra pleaded. “Just come back to our rooms and we can talk.”

“Talk?” you ask, bewildered. “Everytime I try to talk about this, you shut me down!” Fuck, where is that witch? She said to come back here if you wanted to go home, but how are you supposed to get home?  You hear a whisper on the wind. The heart tree, lay your hand upon the heart tree. Your hand raises, reaching out to the tree. 

“What are you doin-” Rhaenyra asks. 

The bark beneath your palm begins to glow and soften. Your hand sinks into the tree. This must be the way back. 

“Y/n, get back that is not safe!” 

You ignore Daemon’s plea, and instead reach further into the tree. You can’t feel the other side, but the entire trunk is glowing. Gritting your teeth in determination, you take a step forward into the trunk. Your eyes shut as you walk forward through the tree. 

“Y/n!” You hear Daemon yell and feel his hand at your back. “Do not be afraid, I have you!” He’s trying to pull you out the tree. You feel some force from the other side of the tree drag you. Once Daemon realizes he can’t pull you out, you feel his arms wrap around your waist. 

The force drags your both out the other side. You both stumble out of the tree, falling to the ground as you catch your bearings. 

“Where the hell are we?” Daemon asks, standing to take in his surroundings. He helps you up, dusting off your dress as you gaze around. 

The tree behind you is identical to the heart tree in the keep. But as you look out, you and Daemon are clearly standing in the middle of a city park. The street and cars are visible from your position. 

“We’re in my world now.”

NOTE: Sorry for the long wait! My summer job is over this coming Friday, so I will be able to update more frequently next week! Also very exacting, we managed to stumble from Westeros to Earth! Rhaenyra is probably panicking at home, but Daemon is (probably) gonna love the tourist life. Also, we are totally gonna get smut again (eventually - trust the process lol) ~ Lacie <3

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[aemondapologistfrfr]

Sworn Protector

aegon x sister!wife!reader x the bloody ben we thought we got but we’re delusional 🫠

anniversary gift pt 2 but can be read alone!

Summary: Benjicot Blackwood is Aegon and yours sworn protector. He takes your protection and pleasure very seriously much to Alicent and Viserys dislike.

Warnings: 18+, graphic depiction of murder fr, blood, drinking, swearing, oral(m and f receiving), fingering, public, penetration(p in v), double penetration 🫣😮‍💨, honestly this whole fic is a warning idk what to say!!!!

Authors Note: “look at me, this isn’t you.” moment and honestly good for y/n, fucking the sworn protector is a family tradition apparently 🫣, no bc i’m enjoying writing this problematic throuple too much 🧎🏼‍♀️, i may make one more part idk but it’s set up for that so we shall seeeeee

Word Count: 3.9k

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

I jolt awake as I hear the relentless crack of bone and squelch of blood. Aegon is like a rock next to me refusing to wake or be bothered. I pull on one of his shirts and walk to the door to listen through. Metal slams into flesh repeatedly as I crack open the door and gasp at the scene before me.

“Ben?! Ben stop!” my balance wavers as I rip open the door and see the state of the man beneath him. “Benjicot Blackwood I said that’s enough!” I shout firmly and his bloodied fist halts, hoovering above the mans pulverized face.

“I’m sorry.” Ben turns to look at me as the man’s blood continues to cascade down his face.

Guards rush into the hall and stop abruptly taking in the scene. They look from me to Ben and then down to the unrecognizable body. Some of them put their hands on their sword pommels and before I can think I step in front of Ben protectively.

“Princess go back to your chambers and we will deal with this.” a guard holds his hands out in front of him slowly walking towards me.

“If you come closer to her you will be in the same state as this man here.” Ben spits as he rises and towers behind me.

“Enough,” I hiss out to him. Gods the one time I wish Aegon were actually awake to help me deal with something. “You all will see to it that this mess is cleaned up. Ser Benjicot was simply doing his duty and protecting Aegon and I. I’ll hear no more on this matter at this hour.” my voice unwavering hoping they’ll listen and heed my words.

“What happened that could lead to this?” a guard asks baffled, his face turning queasy.

“I intend to question him myself, along with Aegon, to get to the bottom of this. We shall speak on the morrow.” I toss over my shoulder pushing Ben into our chambers and sealing us shut behind the doors.

“What the fuck?” I push him harshly into open space of our chambers. “What the fuck was that?” I ask again throwing my hands in the air at a loss for words.

Ben says nothing and takes a seat in a chair as I fill up a glass with wine. I begin to light some candles around our chambers as it’s still hours before sunrise. I take a long sip and exhale deeply. I walk over to the bed and shake Aegon a little more roughly than needed.

“What is it?” Aegon pushes me off of him and rolls over.

“Get up. We have a situation.” I grit out through my teeth. “Ben just slaughtered a man outside of our chambers and I don’t know what to do.” Aegons eyes shoot open.

“What are you talking about?” he sits up and his eyes bulge as they land on Ben’s bloody face. “What the fuck?”

“Hey.” Ben smiles and offers us a small wave.

“What happened?” Aegon rises out of bed completely nude and takes a seat in a chair near Ben.

I refill my glass while pouring them each a cup of wine and bring it to them. I claim the couch and spread out. I cross my legs and take a sip of wine as I look to Ben expectantly for him to begin telling his story.

“Some cunt from the servant staff was walking the halls with his little cunt friends,” Ben’s voice starts to rise. “He started saying all it took to become the new sworn protector was to fuck you. He said he planned to walk into your chambers and take you as you were while Aegon slept beside you.” I can feel the rage radiating off of him in palpable waves.

“So you killed him? Brutally?” Aegon raises his eyebrows shaking his head in disbelief yet a smile begins to form on his lips.

“Yes.” Ben says nodding as if nothing is wrong with that answer

“Well at least we know you do a thorough job.” Aegon shrugs and sips his wine. “Shall we call you our sworn executioner now?” he smirks walking to the bathing chambers.

“Come, let us clean you up.” I hum offering Ben my hand.

Ben looks up to me as he grabs my hand. His gaze never leaves mine as he places a soft kiss on my forehead. I lead us over to Aegon who has a basin of water and a clean cloth. We have Ben sit as we begin to remove his bloody armor.

“Thank you for protecting me in the halls, although, it shouldn’t have come to that.” Ben looks to me as I begin wiping off his face.

“We all protect each other.” Aegon adds as he removes the last piece of Ben’s armor. “Truth be told, this will most likely be blamed on us anyway.” Aegons eyes look to mine.

“As long as Ben can stay I care not.” I say shrugging as I try to wipe dried blood off his brow.

“Agreed.” Aegon hums bringing a clean cloth to Ben’s neck to start wiping the blood from there.

We finish cleaning Ben in silence as he stares at the both of us with devotion. The pile of bloody armor is moved to the bath so it can be washed in the morning. Our hands begin to slowly undress Ben and lead him over to our bed.

“Thank you for protecting my wife.” Aegon hums helping Ben lay back on the bed. “Let me reward you.” his smile is devilish as he slowly begins to remove Ben’s underwear.

Once freed Ben’s cock bounces against his lower stomach as he stares at us with low lids. Aegon nestles himself between Ben’s thighs as I cuddle into Ben’s side. I turn Ben’s head to face mine and capture his lips into a heated kiss. Ben groans deeply into my mouth as Aegon licks him from base to tip.

“Shh, shh,” I whisper as I trail kisses down his jaw.

Aegon takes Ben fully in his mouth, accepting every inch until he reaches the base. Aegon begins to lift his head leaving trails of spit coating his member. Ben lets out a strangled whimper as Aegon brings his hand up to his balls.

“Fuck, my Prince.” Ben rasps as one of his hands tangles in Aegons hair.

Aegon chuckles around Ben as his hips begin to jerk. Aegon uses both of his hands to push Ben’s hips into the bed and shower him with the pleasure of his mouth. I start to kiss and suck on Ben’s neck as our names fall from his lips like a prayer.

“Come for us.” I murmur against his neck before I bite down on his pulse point.

A low groan spills from Ben’s mouth as his hips twitch as he begins to fill Aegons throat. Aegon licks every drop that Ben has to offer him. He continues offering small licks as Ben’s thighs begin to shake.

“My prince,” Ben groans pulling Aegon off of him by his hair.

Aegon chuckles lowly as he crawls up Ben’s body and claims his lips for his own. Aegon releases Ben and turns to me to ensnare me. I sigh into Aegons mouth as I taste Ben. We slowly pull apart and all cuddle into each other on the spacious bed.

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

My eyes flutter open as the morning light peeks through our windows. I untangle myself from Ben and Aegon and softly pad over to the doors. I poke my head out to ask a guard to have a servant bring up some fresh water and cloths.

The supplies are brought to me with haste along with a letter for the three of us to hold an audience with the King and Queen once we dress. I bring the supplies into the bathing chambers and begin to clean off Ben’s bloody armor. The bath water has turned a deep burgundy and I sigh when I see that it’s also crusted under my nails.

“You don’t have to clean up after me.” Ben whispers to me as I jump at his voice.

“Am I not ceaselessly cleaning up after the both of you?” I raise my eyebrow as a smile spreads across my face.

Aegon begins to stir from the bed and sits up pouting at being left alone. He gets up and joins us in the bathing chambers and I tell them about the note I received. We all slowly pull our clothes on and Aegon and I help Ben put his armor back on.

Upon opening the door we’re greeted with the stain that has been left from last nights events. We walk past silently and flow down down the steps. As we turn the corner we can see Viserys atop the throne looking less than pleased.

“I’m far too sober for this.” Aegon whispers in my ear.

“Hush,” I elbow him in the side.

“Your Grace.” Ben says bowing deeply.

“Who cares to tell me what happened last night?” Viserys voice is rough as he looks to all three of us.

“A man was heard loudly speaking in the halls of how it was his plan to come into our chambers to rape and harm me. Ser Benjicot was simply protecting me from those events occurring.” I offer hoping my somewhat thought out words will distract them from the brazen violence that followed.

“So you took his life? We have dungeons for a reason boy.” Viserys voice carries throughout the empty hall as he looks to Ben.

“I-“ Ben starts.

“Is it not his job to protect me and Aegon? By whatever means necessary?” I challenge Viserys as my voice rises to meet his.

“Daughter, I’m not mad that he protected you, I’m mad that there’s stain on the stone reminding us of the brutality.” Viserys eyes narrow on me.

“Gods save us! There’s a stain on the stone.” Aegon brings a hand to his forehead rolling his eyes.

“Aegon.” Alicent warns staring daggers at him.

“You three already cause me enough rumors and whispers throughout court. If you’re going to kill someone for my daughter at least make sure there’s no one to witness it.” Viserys relents shaking his head looking to Ben. “All three of you leave the Keep, I do not wish to see you for the rest of the day.” he waves his hand at us in dismissal.

Ben takes us past the guard quarters so he can remove his armor before we leave for the day. We linger on the front steps not really having an idea of where to go. I suggest we claim an empty villa in the gardens and have drinks and food catered to us.

“Excellent idea, my love.” Aegon claps his hands together. “And where are the gardens again?” he clears his throat.

“This way.” I roll my eyes and lead us.

I find us a villa surprisingly quick and servants are upon us in moments. We order many bottle and ask for them to close the billowy curtains around us for extra privacy. We have an intimate table at the entrance and a couple of couches and chairs tucked away in the back.

“Why didn’t I know about this place sooner?” Aegon relaxes back into his chair with his glass.

“Because you wouldn’t appreciate it as the sanctuary that it is.” I hum as I take a sip of the sweet wine.

“I’m sorry about last night.” Ben breathes out looking to us.

“Don’t be.” Aegon scrunches his brows.

“My actions just made your father kick us out of the Keep for the day.” he clenches his fists angry with himself.

“Fuck the Red Keep.” I shrug my shoulders with a smile.

“Fuck the Red Keep.” Aegon raises his glass to me and we look to Ben expectantly.

“Fuck the Red Keep.” Ben sighs raising his glass.

“You don’t have this position just because you fuck me. You are a brave knight who understands us but loves and protects us anyway.” I say grabbing his hand with an appreciative smile.

“Our father is basically a walking corpse. By the time we stumble into the Keep later he’ll probably forget all about it.” Aegon offers with a lopsided smile.

“And we can forget all about it right now.” I drain my cup and go to refill it.

We sit and drink and let Ben vent for a while listening intently to him. More drinks are brought to us along with lunch and we leisurely graze. The air starts to get warmer and we all shed out of our first layer of clothing leaving us absolutely indecent.

“Up on the table. I want to write my apology with my tongue.” Ben turns to me with low lids as his words go straight to my core.

He moves our glasses and bottles then turns to me expectantly. I slowly rise out of the chair on shaky legs, giggling as the wine rushes to my head. Ben stands grabbing my waist and placing me on the table. He claims his seat once more and pulls me closer by my hips causing my silk slip to bunch around my waist.

“Finally we have some good food.” Aegon chuckles lowly as Ben starts to dip his head down.

Ben places a soft kiss on my wet center sending a shiver through my body. He trails his tongue along my slit making my breath catch in my throat. A breathy sigh escapes my lips as he pulls back to place small kisses on my inner thighs.

“Ben,” his name seeps out of my mouth as he playfully bites down on my tender flesh.

He props my legs on his shoulders and finally brings his torturous mouth to my core. His main focus becomes my clit and at the rapid pace his tongue is moving I would believe that he’s truly writing his apology. A cry erupts from my throat as he slides two fingers into me.

“You guys are so hot.” Aegon groans.

My eyes follow Aegons voice and our eyes lock. My eyes roll back as Ben starts to curl his fingers. Once my vision returns Aegon is hovering over the table and claims my lips. I squeak out in surprise as wine trickles out the sides of our mouth as Aegon brought some with to the kiss. I get lost in the taste of Aegon and the wine as my hips begin grinding onto Ben’s face.

Ben’s rhythm never falters as he begins to pump his fingers faster. Aegon releases my mouth and I let out a loud moan as Ben starts with a third finger. One of my hands buries itself in Ben’s hair and he grunts as I pull. Moans fall from my mouth like a symphony as my orgasm slams through my body washing me in pleasure.

Ben continues with his tongue and fingers while pulling my hips even closer to his face. My whole upper body is arching off the table as he continues his assault. Aegon brings his mouth back to mine to try and hide the whimpers and moans that have been pouring from my mouth.

“Quiet down before I shove my cock in your mouth to silence you.” Aegon says hoovering above my lips.

I come hard squeezing my legs shut around Ben’s head and sobbing into Aegons mouth. Ben offers small licks that continue to send jolts through my body. He finally detaches himself from me and looks up to me with a wet face.

Ben removes both of my legs slowly offering kisses down each until they’re hanging off the table. Aegon grabs my ankle and pulls me over to him. I slide across the table giggling as I stop in front of Aegon.

“I think I would like a taste too.” he hums before bringing his mouth to my over sensitive core.

“Aegon fuck,” I breathlessly pant as his tongue laps at me.

I fall back onto the table with a thud as his tongue zeros in on my clit. My body is trembling with pleasure at every swirl of his tongue. Ben captures my lips in a kiss and swallows all of my whimpers. My hips rise off of the table as I explode all over Aegons tongue.

“Fuck, please,” I whine voice cracking as he continues with his mouth.

“You can give him one more on the table.” Ben coos to me as he pushes my slip the rest of the way up.

Once I’m fully exposed on the table Ben wastes no time reaching for my breasts. His fingers are quick to start pinching and pulling my nipples. Both of their names fill the space between the pants that tumble from my mouth.

“Aegon, I- I, fuck Ben,” a sob tears through me as I come across Aegons tongue again.

“Mm, such a good girl for us.” Ben whispers smoothing my hair.

Aegon removes himself to sit up and take in my disheveled state. My breathing is ragged as my chest rises and falls. Ben slowly pulls my slip back down and they shower my body with kisses offering me words of praise.

“Come, let’s go lay on the couches with some wine.” Ben offers me his hand as Aegon gathers the bottles and cups.

As I hop off the table my legs threaten to give out underneath me. I giggle as Ben’s hands rush to my forearms to help steady me. We all collapse onto the couch which is more of the size of a bed thankfully for us. Aegon hands us our cups filled anew and we all sip in silence.

The wine helps me calm my breathing as I sink back into the couch between the two of them. They both have hands grasped on my thighs rubbing soothing patterns and squeezing softly.

“I wanna fuck you.” Ben’s breath fans across my neck as he trails kisses up my jaw.

“Please Ben,” I whine as his hand travels under my slip to wet core.

“Get on your stomach. Head in Aegons lap.” he nods his head standing up to tower above us.

I slowly start to turn over and place my head on Aegons thighs and raise my ass into the air. I feel the day bed dip behind me and turn my head to look up at Aegon who is smirking down at me. Ben’s hands go to my hips and lift them up to meet his. His tip swirls around in my wetness and glides against my clit causing me to gasp.

“You ready?” Ben asks breathlessly trailing a hand down my spine.

“Yes,” I mewl as I rock my hips back.

He slowly slides every inch into me as I bury my head in Aegons lap. Once his hips are flush against my ass I sigh pushing it back into him seeking more friction. He pulls out and slams back into me almost sliding me across Aegons legs. Both of his hands grab my hips roughly as he starts pounding into me.

Moans keep pouring from my mouth has his hips repeatedly snap into mine. My hands are gripping Aegons thighs as my nails bite into him. I rest my head on his thigh and get lost in my pleasure as Ben continues with no end in sight.

“Keep her quiet.” Ben looks to Aegon as a particularly loud moan falls from my lips.

Aegon is quick to slide his underwear down and free his cock. He wastes no time trailing it along my parted lips. I let my tongue fall out of my mouth and press into his hardened length. Aegon groans and begins to push himself inside my mouth.

“Taking us both so well.” Aegon groans moving my hair to the side so he can watch.

I begin to sloppily bob my head as spit trails out from the sides of my mouth. I groan around Aegon as Ben lifts my hips a little higher to reach a new angle. Tears are streaming down my cheeks as Aegon sets a pace of his own.

Aegon and Ben find a rhythm where when pulls out the other is pushing in. My body is shaking from the amount of pleasure I’m receiving and I let out a harsh sob when Aegons sneaking fingers find my abandoned clit.

“Fuck, squeezing me so good.” Ben pants as his hips begin to falter before he finds a new rhythm.

Aegon shoots down my throat without warning and it begins to spill out the side of my mouth. He pulls out panting and stokes my jaw affectionately. Ben’s hands travel up my spine before wrapping around my front. He pulls me up flush against his chest and begins driving his cock up into me. He wraps a hand around my throat and turns my head to look back at him.

“Beautiful.” Ben whispers as his mouth attaches to mine.

Aegons come mixes with saliva trailing down mine and Ben’s face. His hand applies soft pressure and I kiss him even harder. I whine into Ben’s mouth as I feel Aegons traitorous tongue begin to softly lick at my clit. Ben and I break away from the kiss and gaze down at Aegon. Ben and I both come as we look upon him under us.

We all slowly pull apart and fall back onto the bed, breathing ragged. Aegon takes a sip of wine and passes the cup to us. We all look thoroughly ruined as we lounge back into the couch.

“Someone has to call a servant for more wine.” Aegon sighs as he picks up the empty bottles.

“You’re already up.” I roll my eyes. “Wait! Put some fucking pants on before you scar the staff.” I shout at him before he opens the curtains.

“As if your moans didn’t do that already.” Aegon tosses over his shoulder as he slips back into his trousers.

Aegon breezes out of the villa and Ben tucks me into his side. He kisses me lazily as his fingers stroke my cheek. We pull apart when Aegon returns with more bottles and candles as the sun is beginning to set.

We continue drinking late into the night and then start to pull our clothes on to make our way back to the Keep. We stumble in the main doors giggling and hanging off of each other. As we make it up the stairs Alicent is standing in front of our chambers with a scrunched brow.

“All of you get to bed. Now.” she says through her teeth. “We will discuss your actions in the garden on the morrow when, Gods hoping, you all will be sober.” she looks to us with disgust and swishes back to her chambers.

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

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