theodorenottwhore

[theodorenottwhore]

did “how to be a heartbreaker” make anyone else sob uncontrollably? All I can think about is that ending.

SEVEN. FUCKING. YEARS.

I NEED A SEQUEL NOW.

[how to be a heartbreaker is a fanfiction on wattpad]

[theodorenottwhore]

- patience is a virtue

[Draco Malfoy + you + Theodore Nott]

[minors do not interact! this is for those above the age of 18+]

“sometimes…I think about you both sharing me”

Theo closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he tried to not act flustered, which didn’t work very well. When he opened his eyes again, they quickly roamed over you again, up and down, taking in as much as he could

“And do you have a particular favourite scenario you imagine princesa?”

“maybe”

He raised his eyebrows slightly and smirked as he stepped a bit closer. “Go on. Tell me. I wanna know all your little… “thoughts”

You lean against the wall of the corridor

“I don’t think it’s very school appropriate Nott”

He smirked again but a chuckled followed it this time and he leaned in closer “So? Since when do I care about what school approves of?”

“You really want to know what I think about? when I’m alone…in bed..?” You whisper

He looked around to make sure no one else was around. “Yeah, I’m pretty curious to know” He said as he leaned in even closer now

“Mm well..usually it starts off like this…you both cornering me against a wall..”

He swallowed as he leaned closer and whispered right in your ear “Oh yeah? And then what do we do after that?

“you both lead me back into an empty classroom.. forcing me back against the door”

He started to get a bit flustered at the image he was starting to imagine. He put one of his hands on the door and leaned in closer

“Go on, tell me more” His voice was low and had a rasp to it that hadn't been there before

“You’re both talking but I’m never fully listening..I’m too busy looking at both of you”

He chuckled lowly and put his other hand just above your head. He leaned into you as he spoke into your ear again

“Looking at us both, huh? Is there anything else going on in your mind while your just.. staring at us?”

“I guess we’ll never know”

Theo continued down the end of the hall and into the common room where Draco was sitting in a chair, reading. Once Theodore reached him, he lowered his voice and leaned over his chair

“Malfoy, you need to come with for a sec”

Draco lowers his book, eyebrow raised.

He leaned down a bit closer

“Just… come with me. You gotta see this” Theo urged.

Malfoy sighs, “where are we going?”

He motions towards the door

“Come on, just follow me for a minute”.

The sound of classroom door opening startles you and makes you turn

“Theo is that you?”

Theo stands in the doorway, his frame blocking the other figure behind

“hi princesa” he smirks, entering the room.. with Malfoy trailing behind him

“What’s going on?” You ask.

Both of the boys look at you, Theodore gives you a small smirk while Draco looks at you with a mix of confusion and interest

“h-hi Draco” you say looking down nervously

Draco gives you a small smirk and looks you up and down as he walks closer to you. He’s now directly in front of you. “Well hello”.

You turn to look at Theo who has just closed the door shut firmly

Draco raises an eyebrow and lifts your chin so you’re looking at him “You don’t have to be nervous around us, darling.”

“Theo told you” I say, not really asking.

He chuckles and looks over at Theodore who nods

“Yeah, he did. Quite an interesting conversation if you ask me”

“What did you think?”

“What do I think?” He paused as his gaze started to get a bit darker and he leaned in closer to you. “Oh I loved hearing all the little things you think about when your alone at night darling.”

“You did?”

He hummed in agreement and now he was standing directly in front of you. A smirk was still on his face as he whispered in your ear

“Of course I did. I found it quite interesting to hear about all the things you fantasize about”

“Theo said you liked me Malfoy..i-is that true?”

He chuckles, still standing right in front of you, practically boxing you in

“I do like you. I’ve always thought you were very attractive” He put his hand just beside your head and leaned right in to whisper in your ear again.

“And then I found out about all those things you want to do with me and Theo… and I liked you even more”

This makes me visibly shiver, and you press my chest against his while making eye-contact with his friend just standing a few feet away.

Both boy’s eyes widen as your body presses up against Draco. He can’t help but look down at your chest that is now squished up against him. Theodore leans in a bit closer, as you make eye content with him.

“Careful darling” Draco warns.

“why” you whisper.

Theo let’s out a small chuckle, while Draco’s breath catches in his throat. He looks down at you, eyes roaming all over before he says “because if I touch you. I won’t be able to stop”

Your breath hitches and your heart is racing. You’re unable to form words.

Draco’s eyes darken as his breathing gets heavier, but his manages to keep his composure

“How do you want us to touch you Darling?”

“I want you to touch me like you do in my dreams”

Draco’s breath hitches again and his voices becomes huskier. “And how do we touch you in your dreams?”

“Like you’re afraid you’ll never be able to stop”

Draco takes another step forward, our bodies pressed together in a way that seems impossible. You’re completely pinned against the wall now, while he still speaks in his low voice

“Is that what you want? To be touched like we might never get to do it again?”

“Yes.”

Draco’s breath quickens again and his eyes dark even more as he moves his face so it’s hovering just above your neck. Theo leans in to whisper in my our ear again “so you want us to touch you here Princesa? Right now? Where anyone could walk in?”

You whimper “Please Theo..Draco.”

He lets out a small chuckle but it’s very low and and huskier than his normal one. “So eager..”

He looks at Draco from behind me. “What do you think Draco? Should we give her what she wants?”

“Please” I beg.

Draco hums in agreement as his breath tickles your neck. He’s still holding you, pinned between him and the wall and his breath on your neck is sending chills down your spine.

“Since you asked so nicely darling.”

I let out a soft moan at his words.

Both boys are staring at you now, their eyes darkened from lust and desire.

“Oh? you like us calling you darling hm?”

“you know I do”

“You’ll be glad to know we’ve both thought about you plenty of times” Theo added

“what do you think about?”

“We think about a lot of things Darling, like how you’d look laying down, completely bare and at our mercy.”

Both Draco’s and Theo’s eyes widen slightly when you put your hand on them. They’re both breathing heavier and you can tell they’re barely holding themselves back from taking you right here, right now. Theo leans in close, his face right next to yours as he speaks again

“Oh Princesa, you look so pretty, desperate like this”

“Please”

He smirks, as does Draco. They’re both fully pressed up against you now, making it so you have nowhere to go. Their entire bodies are pressed against you while the boys are still trying to hold themselves back from completely loosing control. “Please what?”

“Please touch me..both of you”

Both boys let out very low hums at your request. They both keep staring at you for a moment, as if they’re silently asking each other “is this really okay?” After a few seconds, Draco finally speaks “you just can’t wait for us to touch you, can you doll? You want it now don’t you?”

“Please” I whisper again, arching my back.

Both boy’s eyes darken at the arch of your back and then can both tell how desperate you are for them, which makes them want you even more. It’s getting hard for them not to just pounce on you right now. Theo smiles at you as he speaks again “so impatient aren’t we?”

“I need you both.”

Both boys hum in agreement again and Theo speaks again, still holding that same smile on his face, as he watches you.

“We can’t help but give into your begging baby, you’ve been such a good girl. You deserve this”

Beyond desperate at this point, you run your hands up and down Theo’s chest, while Draco lets out a low groan as you rub yourself against his hard-on. You can tell they’re both holding themselves back.

Draco’s breath on your neck gets even heavier as he speaks “is this what you want darling? To be completely squished between us?”

“It’s all I want”

“Alright darling, you’ll get what you want. But we’d like to hear you say it. Say you want us”

“I want you Draco, Theo. Please. I want you both”

The boys are getting even more desperate for you as you admit that you want them. Theo let’s out a smirk and says “we like the sound of that, say it again.”

“Please..” you moan, a tear falling down your cheek as you reach one hand behind you to grasp the back of Draco’s neck, while the other goes to grab Theo’s hand, putting it on your chest.

Theo growls loudly and you can feel Draco growing even harder behind you.

“God you’re fucking desperate”

“I’ll do anything”

“Anything?” Draco whispers, blowing air on your neck

“Anything” I confirm

Draco let’s put a low hiss and presses himself even harder against you as you roll your hips against him. Theo also let’s put a groan as you move your hand towards his belt. They’re struggling. You can tell.

“You’re so pretty like this, so desperate. You’d really do anything wouldn’t you?”

“yes. Anything. Just please fucking touch me”

Before you can even finish speaking, they both start touching you. Their hands start to roam your body, desperately trying to touch every inch of you. They start trailing down your skin, to your chest, your hips, everywhere. Holding back is nearly impossible for them.

“Fuckk” you moan, resting your head against Draco’s chest while brushing your hand against Theo’s bulge.

Draco groans loudly and grabs your hips, pushing his cock against your backside. They continue to touch you all over. As you brush against Theo’s length he hisses and grabs your hand. “Don’t do that unless you’re ready for what comes next” he says in a even huskier voice again.

Fuck it.

Still rocking my hips against Draco, you reach forward and force your lips onto Theo’s.

Theo is caught off guard but quickly regains his composure and begins to kiss you back, desperate for your touch. The kiss is deep and passionate as both boys confine to touch you all over. Draco moans again in your ear, nuzzling his face into your neck.“you’re driving us fucking crazy” He starts trailing kisses up and down your skin, trying to find all your sensitive spots.

Theo continues to kiss you, his tongue still exploring your mouth. Both boys are groaning and moaning as they try and satisfy their desperate need for you.

Slowly pulling away from Theo, lips swollen, you then turn your head back to meet Draco who hums loudly when your lips connect with his. He kisses you hungrily, needing to feel your lips on his as he moves his hands move to your hips again. He deepens the kiss, his tongue quickly working it’s way into your mouth as he moans.

They continue to switch places and Theo starts kissing and biting the skin of your neck while Draco occupies your mouth. They’re both groaning as they try to give you what you’ve been begging for.

Both boys moan loudly as you start grinding against them both again. They’re needing to touch you even more and so Draco pulls your bottom lip between his teeth and starts sucking on it, while Theo’s hands bare caressing your chest, his own breath becoming deeper with need as he speaks into your ear.

“You’re so fucking beautiful”

“I need more” you pant between kisses.

Both of them hum in agreement, clearly wanting you just as much as you want them. Draco kisses you harder while Theo bites into your neck, his hands roaming all over your body. “Yeah? you want more?”

“Please”

They love how polite and submissive you sound for them.

“Good girl” Draco growls

Draco holds your hips tightly in place as Theo’s hands stop roaming your body when he looks down to see you unbuckling his belt.

“You want our clothes off mi amor?”

“I want all of it off.”

“mhm, we’ll give you what you want”

It’s not enough. Theo smirks when you turn around smack your lips on his. He puts his hand on the back of your head and desperately kisses you again, trying to still maintain some small shred of control, but you’re making it difficult. They both start to loose control of themselves even more. But as soon as you bite down on his lip and draw blood, Theo looses it and let’s out a very low and loud moan.

Draco grins as he watches you and Theo and he suddenly grips your ass and smacks you with force.

“You’re being such a bad slut for us. We’re gonna have to punish you”

“Then punish me daddy”

They’re both completely gone now, lost in lust.

“We might just have to bend you over and make you take what’s coming to you”

You grab his bulge. He whimpers. “You really want me to bend you over and force my cock inside you? Make you take it?”

“Make me take it Draco”

That’s the last straw, a fire comes in their eyes.

“This is your last chance to back out.” Theo whispers

“Do your worst”

They look at each other for a second and nod, agreeing to what they’re about to do. You got what you wanted and now they were going to give it to you.

“Take your fucking shirt off”

Draco and Theo watch intently as you start to unbutton your shirt, both of them are completely focused on you as they wait for you to show them what lies underneath. They’re both breathing heavily as they admire your body, wanting and needing you so badly.

They stare as your shirt falls to the ground and they see your dark green bra that leaves nothing to the imagination. Their need for you is nearly consuming them.

They’re both still staring at your body, deep lustful moans falling from their lips when you tell them that you wore their house colour for them.

The boys shake their heads as you plead for them to stop holding back. Any self control they had is now long gone and they won’t let anything, or anyone, stop them from having you.

As you stumble back and brace yourself against professor Snape’s desk, Draco speaks again. “You belong to us. Do you understand?”

“Prove it”

Draco stands behind the desk, his eyes glued to your bra and the flesh threatening to spill out, while Theo remains in front, staring at you sinisterly.

Draco eyes harden even more as he glances over at Theo who then looks back at him. They know what you want. They communicate silently and then nod as they begins to aggressively undress you.

Theo smiles as he feels the cold air hit your skin when he undoes your bra. He runs his hands gently over your tits, caressing your skin, enjoying the feeling of your body now that he finally has you.

Draco’s eyes don’t leave your chest, in fact he reaches forward, rubbing your sensitive nipples between his fingers.

“Theo..” you whimper

“What is it hm?”

“Take off my panties”

Theo hums to himself, a small smirk spreading across his face.

“Of course Doll” he slowly moves his hands up your thighs, and hooks his fingers into your underwear, starting to work them down your legs.

Draco stares as he watches your last item of clothing hit the floor. They’re both practically foaming at the mouth now that they can see how good you look.

Theo moves around to behind you, taking you by the hips as he growls “You’re so fucking mine”

Draco keeps you in place, making sure you don’t get a chance to turn around, while Theo’s hands stay on your hips, Draco stays in front but his hands leave your body.

“W-What are you doing?” You whimper

Draco takes of his shirt and smiles at Theo as he responds to your question.

“Watch and find out”

Theo turns your head towards him roughly and starts to kiss you, keeping you distracted. While your head is turned, Draco runs his hands up and down your thighs.

“Theo..you should take off your shirt too..”

“Patience is a virtue Princesa”

Draco grins as he rubs a finger against your soaking wet clit, you gasp into Theo’s mouth.

“Do I touch you like this in your dreams?”

“Fuck yes..Draco..”

Draco tuts when you curse, pulling his finger away that’s covered in your arousal.

“Mm look how fucking wet you are for me.. for us”

“I need you both inside me.”

The boys both continue to grin and laugh as you beg for them. They love seeing how desperate you become.

Draco’s fingers rub against your pussy, making you cry out. Theo is still kissing you, keeping your lips occupied. The need and lust is so strong as they continue to play with your body.

“Put your fingers inside me Malfoy” I growl.

Draco smirks at your command, his hard cock pressed right up against your heat.

“You want his fingers deep inside this tight little cunt Bella?” Theo asks, his tongue moving across your neck.

“Please Draco”

Theo moans when you pull his trousers down and Draco mockingly sighs when you wrap your legs around him. He glances behind you to look at Theo’s boxers and then back up at you as he says “he’s big isn’t he? Do you think you can take him?”

Theo grins at Draco’s words as he watches you slowly pull down his boxers, revealing his throbbing cock to you.

“Theo..you’re so thick”

“Yeah? that’s what you do to me. You make me so fucking hard Bella”

Draco rocks his hips against your pussy, his cock straining against his trousers, but he pulls back a little, just to watch as you wrap your hand around his best friend’s cock.

“Look at what you do to us darling, you drive us to insanity, look at how hard you’ve made us”

You moan at his words. Then instead of kissing you, he quickly turns towards Theo and pulls him in for a kiss.

Watching Theo’s tongue meet Draco’s is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, and you can’t help but let out the most desperate of moans, and hearing you moan makes the boys even more eager.

Theo groans as you stroke him harder and faster, needing you all the more. Watching you is almost too much for them.

The boys pull always reluctantly, needing to kiss you again.

Draco grunts and pulls his boxers down in one swift motion, freeing himself. Then he roughly yanks you off the desk, forcing you onto your knees on the floor in front of them both.

They both watch as you hit the floor, the sound of your body meeting the floor echoing around the classroom. There is a burning need in their eyes.

Both of them look down at you as you’re naked on the floor, the sight of you body is too much and they’re trying to make this last.

They stand and watch as you slowly begin to stroke them both. Draco closes his eyes hissing and throws his head back. The feeling of your hand on them is nothing like they’ve ever experienced before. They moan loudly.

Draco groans as Theo turns to him and grabs his neck. He kisses Theo back, letting himself get lost in the moment, lost in the feeling of Theo’s lips and your hand wrapped around his cock.

They both pull away when they hear you moan again, just for a second, to look at you. But, seeing you on the floor in front of them, rubbing your pussy against the ground, immediately wipes all thoughts from their minds.

Draco roughly shoves your hand away from his cock and pulls your head forward, forcing his cock down your throat. You instantly gag, your eyes water uncontrollably. Theo thrusts his hips into your hand, desperate for your touch. Watching Draco fuck your mouth is too much.

“god look at you. Such a fucking slut. Taking two cocks. God you love this don’t you? you love it when I stuff my cock down your slutty throat.” Draco mocks.

They both continue to watch the sight of you struggling. But then, Draco moans as Theo suddenly pulls you off Draco’s cock and decides it’s his turn.

Drool is running down your chin and your eyes are watering so much that you’re struggling to see.

They’re using you for their pleasure and you couldn’t care less.

They take turns fucking your mouth, they watch as your eyes roll back and you choke on their cocks. But they can see you’re struggling.

Theo is completely lost in the feeling of his tip hitting the back of your throat, his hand holds your neck, his thumb resting on the bulge where his cock keeps entering.

Draco keeps your head in place.

You can’t breathe? not their problem.

you wanted to be used.

“Gonna fill this mouth with my cum Bella, ‘gonna take turns fucking filling you up. Fucking want to watch you scream and cry and as I breed this tight pussy.”

They weren’t even touching you and you could feel it. You were close. God. They hadn’t even fucking touched you and you were about to cum on the fucking floor.

“Look at her shaking, rubbing herself against the floor. She’s gonna fucking cum Theo” Malfoy sniggers

“Yeah? you gonna cum Bella? just from me fucking your throat? fucking puta. God.. FUCK..Malfoy.. she’s taking it so well isn’t she? my personal fucktoy”

“Hurry up and cum Theo, I want to fuck my load inside her sweet pussy” Draco groaned, turning Theo’s head so that they could kiss again.

“f-fuck, Malfoy”

“Mhm f-mhm” you couldn’t even form words, how could you? Theo’s cock was practically in your stomach, he was so far down your throat.

“that’s it, fuck I’m cumming” was all the warning you got before Theo slammed his length down your throat one last time. Liquid gushed from your pussy, spilling across the floor. Your clothes were soaked in your own juices.

All you could taste was his cum. There was so much of it.

But you weren’t done yet. It was malfoy’s turn. And you had only just begun.

“You ready darling?”

This took so long!! But I hope you guys enjoyed!

[theodorenottwhore]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 28th. theodore nott. lorenzo berkshire — humiliation / degradation

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: never let enzo berkshire find out about one of your kinks. unless….

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, halloween ghostface costumes, threesome, fwb!theo, bestfriend!enzo, reader is involved in a bet unbeknownst to her, mask kink, humiliation on high, degradation, fingering, denied orgasm, oral m!rec, PIV, dirty talk, manipulation.

"Black cat mask?"

You shake your head, barely sparing the thing a glance.

"Mm, no. Too unoriginal."

"Right," Enzo sucks his teeth, tossing the mask back into the bin you're both half-heartedly rifling through. "Orange cat, then? That's far more fitting for you anyways."

"Enzo—no cats, please," you mutter, running a hand through your hair, staring down at the disheveled heap of plastic. None of it catches your eye, none of it sparks anything. "It's Halloween. I want something...scarier."

"Of course. Only day of the year you get to pretend you're as terrifying as me." He croons—half-laughing through the words. The tease itches in your mind, and you're halfway to some retort when he's already holding up another mask. "How about this one?"

You glance up, ready to dismiss whatever nonsense he's holding this time, but the sight of it stills the air in your lungs. A Ghostface mask. Stark white, hollow eyes staring back at you—it's grimace cast in a faded glow under tired shop lights. It's nothing—just a mask, just a piece of cheap plastic in Enzo’s hand—but your heart skips, stumbles, clutches at your ribs, and you can't look away.

And there's no goddamn reason for it, no logic—but you're already seeing it, aren't you? Your current fwb—Theo, standing over you; his face hidden, mask in place of those half-lidded eyes that you’ve learned to read so well. And you know—you know the thought is fucking absurd—yet, it knots something in your stomach, spreading heat like a fuse just lit.

"You alright there?" Enzo's teasing pulls you out of your thoughts, and you realize he'd been staring at you that entire time. "You're looking a little...hot."

Hot. Right. Of course he'd notice—of course your best friend would notice the way you went still, frozen in place as if someone struck you with Glacius. You're no good at lying to him, not even on a good day—and right now, your mind is in shambles, already too far gone into the fantasy and—

No. No more of this.

You tear away, fumbling for the edge of a cloak that suddenly seems like the most fascinating thing you've ever seen, your fingers tracing the fabric as if it can save you.

"It's...fine—it's nice," you blurt out, too quickly, too forced, the words tumbling over themselves. "Just—no, not really my thing."

But Enzo knows better. He can spot your lies from miles away. You hear him shift, the quiet rustle of the mask in his hands—and then, he's pulling it over his face, tilting his head just to spite you.

You don't have to look to know he's smirking behind it.

"Bullshit." He steps closer, casually closing the distance, but you know it's deliberate. "You're into this, aren't you?"

The warmth on your face feels like fire now, prickling heat across your skin. He shifts closer again, and for a moment you consider jinxing him—mind scattering into dark, unbidden places—filthy, wild things, flashing behind your eyes, too real. Enzo tilts his head the other way now, letting the mask catch the light, letting it grin.

"Should I get it?" He asks, as innocent as a serial killer. "For Nott, of course."

"No."

It scrapes out of your throat, barely audible, far too small to hold truth. You’re sure he can read you right now—all your depraved thoughts in the rasp of your voice, painfully transparent.

There’s a huff, a snort of sorts. "Are you sure? I think he'd love it."

Despite his insufferableness, he’s probably right. Theo has never shied away from indulging your kinks before. That’s what no strings is about. Maybe he would love it, you know you certainly would—gods how you’d love it—even if you’d rather die before admitting it.

The cloak—you focus on the deep purple velvet, the dark lace edging. "I'm sure. Put it back."

"You don't sound so sure." Gods, he's such an asshole—point only proved further as he takes another step closer. "Does this...does this turn you on?"

"Enzo—For Godric's sake, stop." The humiliation is suffocating. This is just a glimpse at your future should you ever decide to disclose this information to him. Relentless and bloody insufferable. "Let's just—pick something and go. Please?"

A pause, then, and you don't dare look up. The mask slips from his face with another soft, satisfied hum—you don't need to see him to feel the damage done. He knows.

"Sure, angel," he says, trailing as he turns. "Whatever you want."

————

"Matt—have you seen Theo?"

"Uh—not since earlier." Mattheo replies without even looking up, his focus on pouring another dangerous looking drink rather than on you. "He's probably just out for a smoke."

Yeah. Right. Forsure—because his smoke breaks last all bloody day. Doubt twists your stomach, but you nod anyway, grabbing your own drink—something bubbling, far too bright a green to be safe, but it burns down easy all the same. The room spins in a foggy haze, lights bleeding together over costumes, wizard and Muggle and something in between—and you struggle to tell who's who.

Theo had refused to tell you what he was dressing up as—claimed he wanted it to be a surprise. Now, that surprise is nowhere to be found.

"What are you supposed to be?" You raise a brow at Mattheo's striped inmate costume. “Your future?"

Riddle's eye flash as he pretends to be offended for about two seconds until his gaze drops to your own costume and his tongue darts over his lips, taking it in. Beer-maid, tight bodice, shorter than preferred. It's not what you were going for, not in the slightest, but it's all Pansy had in her closet to save you after you and Enzo failed to find anything interesting at the shop the other day.

"Maybe. But you definitely aren't dressed as yours." His attention shifts back to the crowd, a failed attempt at hiding his grin. "Way too much fabric."

You scoff, but that's just how Mattheo is—always a sly comment, always pushing. You roll your eyes and swat at him, but he sticks his tongue out at you and steps back, slipping off into the crowd with a final goodbye wink—and just as you lose track of him, Draco saddles up next to you, prattling on about something you don't care to listen to.

Great, that’s two annoying Slytherins accounted for. Where the fuck is Theo?

Five seconds into pretending to be interested in whatever Malfoy is babbling on about, you give up, turning back to the drink table and skimming over the options when someone new brushes up behind you—

"Enzo told me," the words barely register before you feel it—a hand settling low at your hip. "About your kink."

With lightening speed you twist your neck, glancing over your shoulder—only to fucking gasp at what you find there. That mask. The mask. The Ghostface one from the shop; the one Enzo hasn't let you forget, hasn't stopped teasing you about—you blink, your heart barrelling out of the room, fingers tightening around your cup until it hurts—

The mask tilts, just slightly. "Looks like he was right."

"Theo—"

"Go." His voice is muffled, but sweet Merlin—the sound of it makes your knees threaten to buckle right then and there. His hand slips lower, teasing against the ruffles of your dress. "Run, Bella. Let's play."

Your body locks up, muscles tense and poised on the edge of something feral. You can't look away. Can't think. Can't breathe. His fingers slip lower, lower, until you feel it—cold leather against the heat of your skin and your throat tightens, words dying dead on your tongue.

Run.

A slight lean, and the mask brushes your neck. "Now."

He steps back, a slow retreat, but it feels like he's tugging you with him. You spin to face him, smirking, your voice barely above a whisper—

"And when you catch me?"

"Find out." His head tilts toward the door. It's your cue.

Your feet move before your mind even catches up, slipping through the rowdy crowd, darting through the half-drunk revelers in their costumes—everything blurring into an afterthought as you push past the cobwebs, pumpkins, fake spiders, all the other Halloween decor filling the fogged ballroom. Your fingertips buzz from the adrenaline—pulse echoing in your ears as you dart down one hall after another, not quite sure where you're going, but knowing you need to keep moving.

Theo told you to run—so you run.

You sprint through the castle, the corridors empty save for your hurried footsteps and the scattered Halloween decorations lunging at you from the shadows. You round a corner, making for the dungeons. It's as good a place as any, right? Dark, quiet, somewhere to hide.

Few more minutes and you make it, lungs burning as you stumble into the dreary main hall. You realize the detention room is empty—and it's perfect. You take two steps inside, already thinking you'll be able to catch your breath when—

You slam headlong into something solid.

Head swirling, your vision barely refocuses before you feel a grip on your wrists, pulling you forward with enough force to make you gasp. Everything happens so fast you don't have enough time to process what's occurring before you're forced to focus on the thing you're seeing—ghostface. Staring down at you with those empty, gaping eyes. Unreadable.

It's then that you realize you're caught.

Something shifts behind the mask, an almost imperceptible movement of his head. You'd almost think you imagined it but given that there's nothing else to look at you know it's impossible. The silence is ballooning and you wonder if this is part of the game, if Theo is just savouring the moment, relishing in your reaction. The way you're trembling, your breath stuttering, the way you've gone still—waiting.

You swallow, throat drier than the Sahara, but something about this has you emboldened, the fact he's playing into your fantasy like this—so you decide to tease him, breaking the silence with a soft, breathless laugh as you pull one of your hands free from his grip.

He wanted to play. It's your turn to act the part.

"Looks like you caught me...Mr. Ghostface..." you purr—the silence sticks heavy, making the space between you feel thick, electric. All you can feel are his eyes devouring you. "And now...now that you've caught me...what are you gonna' do with me...hm?"

Gods—the thrill of this is so real, one your certain is more addictive than any drug. An adrenaline rush—not knowing what he's thinking, what he's about to do. Not being able to read him like you normally could. It makes your thighs quake—and there’s half a second where you wonder how much Enzo would pay to see this, how much he’d fucking taunt you for it.

But just as quickly as it came, you shake that thought—focused on Theo, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and sink to your knees, fingertips teasing from his chest to his abdomen, tilting your head to look up at him through your lashes.

"...please don't punish me." You giggle—and the debauched absurdity of it all makes you nearly choke. "I'll be so good—I'll do anything, Theo—"

You feel him huff, tense, and when your fingers graze the front of his pants—just barely touching his crotch— his hand snaps down like a vice, gripping your wrist, stopping you dead in your tracks.

And then, you hear it. "Salazar sakes—shit—"

Your heart plummets. That voice—it's like being thrown into ice-cold water. No, that's not—it can't be—

"Enzo?"

Your voice cracks as you all but screech, your head whipping up so fast you feel dizzy. No, no, no—

Enzo, who you previously thought was Theo, pulls the mask off and all but verbally confirms it. Your nightmare born to life. Spooling to fruition right in front of you. He smiles, lips curled into something thoroughly entertained, and gods, how his eyes glint with pure assholery—you could fucking kill him.

"Enzo—" you stammer, horror flushing through you, burning through the mortification lodged in your throat. "Gods—what the fuck—"

"Surprise," he breathes, like this is the most casual thing in the world to him.

You scramble back, knees scraping against cold stone—mind spiralling in every direction at once—shame collides with shock and it all burns under your skin, the kind of heat that never settles. You know Theo's voice. You could never mistake it. You know for a fact that was him back at the party— but this, this makes no sense.

"What...what the hell-" your voice stumbles like you're trying to outrun the words. "Why would you—what were you—"

"Relax," he is all too fucking calm. "It was a prank."

"A prank?" You're still on the floor, and for some reason that makes everything worse. "You call that a prank? A—a funny little joke?"

"That's usually the definition—"

"No." You hiss between clenched teeth, anger strangling any hope for composure. "What were you doing in here? This— this isn't—you were trying to-"

"Trying to what?" He sounds so goddamn innocent but you know better. He's toying with you, making sure you know it. He's been your best friend since you were kids but you never said it was by choice. He steps closer. "I was trying to what, angel?"

Your blood boils, the heat spreading fast—pooling low in your core against all specks of your sanity. He's relishing this, drinking in your mortification like it's fine wine—and for some reason, it makes you weak.

"You—" words die with another one of his steps, the toes of his shoes brushing against your skin as he crouches down in front of you, elbows resting casually on his knees. You sit back, ass meeting cold stone. "Enzo—"

"Yeah?" He cocks an eyebrow. "You just gonna' parrot my name all night? Maybe you're too embarrassed to speak?"

The constant mocking feels like ice and you want to slap that smug look right off his face but instead your fucking thighs tense. You have nothing to say—can only stare at him, lungs seizing further as you notice the smirk fading from his lips, something darker replacing it—

"You didn't even know who was under that mask, and you were ready to suck me off," he's whispering, but he may as well be screaming. "You'd do anything for anyone with a mask, huh? I wish I knew about this kink of yours sooner."

He leans in closer, his knees pushing yours apart—you and Enzo had never been strangers to toying the line of friendship one too many times while drunk, but this—

You blink. Staring at him. "You...you're enjoying this way too much."

"Guilty as charged." His smile spreads wider, cockier, his eyes dipping to your lips, then lower. You shiver involuntarily. "I know I should have stopped you sooner, but seeing you on your knees...in front of me...I just..."

He shakes his head before he slowly stands back up—and his eyes flicker to your chest, lingering on your fucking tits and not even trying to be subtle about it.

Then, there’s a sound—the sound of the door creaking open.

You barely hear it, the faint shuffle of footsteps, but it's enough to pull the grin from Enzo's face as he looks up. You're not sure your heart can handle anymore of this—plummeting to the stone beneath you as Theo steps into the room, dressed just like Enzo—black robes, black gloves, Ghostface mask.

"Nott." Enzo's voice is too casual, too easy. "Great timing, mate."

Theo’s silent as he takes in the scene. You—still on the floor, dress hitched up, legs spread. Enzo standing over you, smug, unbothered. Theo's presence fills the room as he shuts the door behind him and locks it, stoking your humiliation into something even hotter, something impossible to escape.

Theo's voice is flat, his tone too even. "Looks like you got caught."

Wait—

"You—" your gaze jumps between them, a wild panic bubbling up inside you. You're so fucking confused. "What is this? You two—"

"Like I said, a prank." Enzo says as he steps toward Theo, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "A bet, really.”

Theo doesn't respond. He doesn't move. He doesn't look away from you.

"A bet?" You choke out, trying to piece everything together. "What bet?"

"Well, you see, angel," Enzo pushes away from Theo and slumps down into a chair just off to the side of you. You feel the dread rolling in like a storm. "I bet big Theo here you'd get so weak in the knees over the mask, you wouldn't even notice the switch. As usual, I was right."

Andddd, there’s the dread. Yup. As expected whenever Enzo is fucking involved in anything.

"Oh, wow—" you'd laugh if you weren't this utterly mortified by the entire situation. "You guys are—gods. You’re going after a whole new high score in the prick olympics, aren't you—"

"Oh, I don't know if you believe that, topolina...I think you're just being shy." Theo cuts through your rambling and you flinch at the sound of his voice. "It's clear this is a fantasy of yours."

Your head tilts up, eyes widening as they meet the empty, hollow eyes of the mask drawing closer.

"I bet you're just embarrassed," Theo's pressing—he's fucking pressing and you don’t think you’ve breathed since he walked in. "Embarrassed that you got on your knees for your best friend...or maybe you're afraid I'd be mad." He pauses, and his gaze sweeps down over you. "Which, to that I'd have to say, I'm far from."

You swallow hard, your mouth dry. "You're...you're not mad?"

Perhaps you were afraid of that—even if you and Theo are unofficial in every aspect.

His answer is instant. "No."

He crouches in front of you, gloved fingers finding your chin, tipping your head up so he can look at you— really look at you.

"In fact...I think you should let him watch..." his thumb ghosts over your lower lip, so soft, so slow—without thinking, your tongue flicks out, barely grazing the leather covered tip, and you hear the soft exhale he releases in response. "After all, this was his idea. He deserves some fun too, don't you think?"

Heat floods your cunt, your stomach tightening at the suggestion. You glance at Enzo, sitting back now with his mask on—legs spread wide, leather hands clasped, calm—you wanted to kill him five minutes ago, but now—

Oh gods—you're really losing it.

"Yeah," you whisper, barely managing the word. "He probably does."

Theo's hand slides down to your thigh, leather fingers curling into the soft skin, pulling your legs open further.

"Mhm." He mutters. "You like being watched, don't you?"

Your breath catches, your pulse thundering in your ears as you nod, your eyes glued to Enzo. "Yes..."

"Say it." His fingers trail higher, teasing the soft skin beneath your dress, fingertips grazing closer—too close—just below the lace hem of your panties.

Salazar save you.

You bite your lip, and the air between you feels like it's thickening, growing too dense to breathe in. That fucking mask. You've fantasized over it. And now, there's two of them. Two sets of eyes—faceless, emotionless, and watching you. It's like something out of your fucking dreams.

"I—I like being watched," you manage to whisper, voice breaking between building lust.

"Louder," Theo growls this time like he's pulling it from somewhere deep in his chest—it sends liquid heat spilling through you. "Louder, topolina. He can't hear you if you're whispering."

Your heart stutters in your chest, and Enzo—gods, Enzo is still watching—stays silent, the mask concealing whatever reaction he might have, but his posture speaks volumes. Stillness, dark fabric of his trousers tight across his thighs, a coiled tension that radiates off him, permeates the space between you.

"I—fuck—" a breathless moan cracks through your words as Theo's leather-clad fingers slip under your panties, grazing your slick slit. "—love it. I love being watched."

Theo hums, the sound vibrating low in his throat, and rewards you by pushing two fingers into your dripping heat. So slow, the pace of his strokes torturous—slick sounds of leather working you open filling the room, mingling with your quiet, shuddering breaths. His thumb brushes your clit, teasing over it until you moan—hard and shameless—

"So loud," Theo mocks, your spine arching into him as his fingers curl inside you. "Eager, filthy little thing. You love being on display, don't you?"

A whimper catches in your throat, your gaze still locked on Enzo, watching him watch you.

You're shaking. You're close. Too close.

Your voice cracks again, nothing more than a whisper caught in a moan. "Theo...fuck—"

"You're so wet, bellissima," Theo breathes behind the mask. You're burning, every nerve sizzling. "You want to cum, don't you?"

You can't speak. Words don't exist anymore, only the pressure—only the way Theo's fingers curl inside you, the way your thighs tremble and ache from holding yourself open, from being watched, from being this goddamn humiliated.

"Y-yes," you choke out, desperate. "Yes, please, I—"

"Ask him." Theo's cuts you off. "Ask Enzo to let you cum."

The room spins. The air thickens into something cloying.

Ask him. Ask Enzo—

You swallow hard, your eyes darting between the two masks. Enzo is silent, still motionless, but he tilts his head slightly, the only indication that he's heard. That he's waiting.

"Please, Enzo—" the humiliation is sickening but you force past it. It’s a broken prayer, vulnerability in verbal form. "Please...let me cum—please—"

Time stretches. It feels like hours, an eternity where nothing exists but the weight of their hidden eyes on you, the way Enzo's fingers twitch, curl over the thick ridge at his crotch, leather knuckles tensing as if he's restraining himself from something primal. You're being devoured whole by this moment—by the unbearable tension, by Theo's fingers inside you, relentless in their assault, and gods—you're going to die if they don't let you—

"Yeah," Enzo finally murmurs, breaking the silence. Theo's gaze flickers to him, waiting. "Yeah, you can cum, angel…”

But as he says it, he shakes his head, and Theo—the absolute bastard—pulls his fingers out without a word.

"…just not yet." Enzo finishes.

The sound that leaves your throat isn't even human, some guttural, helpless whine torn straight from your throbbing, empty cunt. Theo shushes you.

"You'll get to cum, Bella," he coos, standing up slowly. "It'll be soon."

They're toying with you, playing you like a goddamn puppet on strings and it's infuriating in its deliciousness. You've known these men for years, yet it's almost laughable—the way they feel so foreign, so terrifyingly new.

"Oh, Enzo," you sigh, feeling your arousal cool, your body suddenly aware of the icy stone beneath you, of the wet heat slicking down your thighs. "I'm going to kill you tomorrow."

Enzo snorts. "You're welcome to try."

Theo exhales a half-chuckle, helping you off the floor and onto a desk, his hands firm on your thighs as he spreads you open like he's done a hundred times within the last few months.

A moment passes before he moves to loosen his belt and you realize just how close Enzo is now—his chair right beside the desk, his hand palming the bulge in his pants, shameless in his observation. The sight makes you fucking dizzy with filth. Surely, you've lost your mind. This is madness. Every line between friendship and lust—between restraint and indulgence—has blurred and bled into something you can't define, and the thrill of it is intoxicating.

"This is insane," you hiss, breathless, feeling the way Theo's gloves scrape over your skin, two thick digits dragging in your slick. "You're both fucking insane."

"Too much talking," Theo mutters, so infuriatingly calm, even as he drags the head of his dick over your folds, teasing your clit. "So much attitude for someone dripping down their thighs. You want to stop?" The silence stretches, your eyes locked on his, and you can feel the smirk behind the mask. He nods. "That's what I thought. Now shut up and let me fuck this wet cunt."

His hands grip either side of the desk, his body looming over you—the scene from your fantasy you've envisioned a million times. Ghostface—dominant and rough—gods, you want it. So bad it fucking hurts.

Your head lolls to the side, eyes immediately finding Enzo's again—forgetting for half a second that he was even there. His jeans are unbuttoned now, his hand moving rhythmically beneath the denim, mask locked onto you with a single-minded focus that makes your breath stutter.

"Enz-ohhh—" you go to say something to him, but then Theo pushes into you—no warning, no slow build—just a deep, unforgiving thrust that knocks the breath from your lungs, and your voice cracks on his name, the syllables lost in the moan that spills out of you.

"Shit." Enzo groans in response. "Did you just—"

"She did," Theo snarls, his grip on your hips punishing as he slams into you again, harder this time. "The little slut just moaned your name."

There's cursing, from both of them, but it's all a blur in your ears, drowned out by the sound of Theo's hips slamming into yours, the fevered slap of skin on skin, the obscene sounds you can't help but make—

"Yeah, I noticed," Enzo mutters, and fuck, he sounds ruined, completely lost in the sight of you—his best friend, getting fucked by his other best friend. "Fuck."

Theo's hand finds your jaw, forcing your head back to face him, Ghostface mask looming above you like a delicious nightmare.

"Who's fucking you?" His voice is caught somewhere between a snarl and a purr. "Is it Enzo?"

"N-no—" you manage, trembling with every thrust.

"Of course it's not," Theo hisses, driving into you with punctual thrusts to make you feel him, making you cry out when he slams your cervix. "So why'd you moan his name? When it's—fuck—my cock inside you?"

"I—I didn't mean—" you whimper, eyes squeezed shut, but there's no escape. Not from the relentless pace of Theo's dick, not from the way Enzo's eyes never leave you, burning into you like fire. You can't form words.

"Mm—don't be shy now, topolina," Theo purrs, his voice thick with effort. His hips snap forward, and your back arches, a broken sound escaping you. "I think you just love having him in your mouth—his name, his—"

"Fuck, Nott, shut up," Enzo cuts in, his head thrown back, chest tense. "I don't want to hear your voice—"

You can hear the strain, the way he's barely holding it together—

"Look at him," Theo ignores Enzo's words. He lets go of your jaw. "He wants you. He's always wanted you."

Your eyes dart between them, head spinning, unable to form a coherent thought—Theo's fucking relentless, pushing you closer and closer to the edge—and every time you glance at Enzo, you see the way he's breaking, hand moving faster, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths—

"I never knew you were such a voyeur, Nott," Enzo spits, trying to sound casual. "Never took you for being such a filthy bastard."

"What can I say?" Theo groans in response, propping your legs up over his shoulders to drive into you deeper. "Just discovered a new interest, you should try it sometime."

They're still bantering, like this is some kind of fucked-up competition, like you're not about to shatter into a million fucking pieces while your best friend watches—after he got you here and humiliated you with a fucking bet—gods, you'd laugh if you weren't so utterly lost to the pleasure ripping through you.

"And watch you get off on it?" Enzo spits back, voice rough. "I'll—"

Theo snorts, cutting him off. "I think there's more than one person getting off on—"

"Shut the-fffuck up—please-" you manage to moan, the words barely intelligible. You look to Enzo, eyes wide and pleading. "Enz...come here."

"Yeah...?" Enzo breathes out, his voice catching, tipping his head back forward to look at you. “What?”

"Come here," you moan again, trembling, fraying under the pleasure that's building inside you from Theo’s insistent dick. "Let me help you."

For a moment, he hesitates, and you can’t tell what he’s thinking because the goddamn mask hides everything. He's always been the calm one between you—always stopping your drunk kisses, always refraining from taking things too far. But tonight, there’s no more of that calm left in him—

He stands.

Each step he takes feels like a lifetime, but when he's standing next to your head on the desk, towering above where you're laid out like a feast, you don't know whether it's the mask or the situation itself that has your pulse racing. Erotic and terrifying, the not-knowing—a power exchange in its purest form. Theo growls infront of you, his thrusts growing harder, more vicious, as you reach out to pull Enzo's hips closer.

You're already eyeing the throbbing bulge in his jeans, your mouth practically watering as you stare.

"Go on," you rasp, lips parting as you look up through your lashes. "Take it out."

The breath Enzo sucks in is sharp, a hitch in the darkness. His fingers tremble, just barely, as he pushes his pants down his thighs, and the noise that escapes him when his cock slips out and smacks his stomach—low, strangled—makes you moan and clench in response—he's huge.

Your breath catches, a soft exhale of, "oh, fuck."

And the words are barely out of your mouth before both Theo and Enzo respond—low growls and breathless groans that echo in the shadowed room, vibrating through you like electricity.

"Open your pretty mouth," Enzo whispers and you obey without hesitation, tongue slipping out, wanting, eager. His breath shudders, and you wish you could see his eyes. "Good girl."

And then he's pushing into you, sliding hot and thick over your tongue, and at that exact moment, Theo thrusts harder, deeper, and suddenly you're overwhelmed—both of them inside you, filling you, consuming every breath. Moans ripple through the dungeon air, a chorus of sin, and you shake with the sheer intensity of it all.

Theo's thumb finds your clit, starts swirling over it, and you keen—eyes rolling back in your head, Enzo’s leather hands in your hair to hold you still. Tears stream down your face as you gag, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth, but neither of them stop—if anything, they're both lost in it, in the wrecked, messy beauty of it all. Your hands claw at the desk, desperate for something to hold on to as the pleasure builds, tightens, spirals out of control.

Time collapses. It's been moments—it's been hours.

And then it happens—all three of you tipping over the edge at once, crashing into a release so fierce it shatters you. Your climax rips through you, violent, leaving you shaking, milking Theo until he's spent—until he's pouring his cum deep inside your cunt at the same time Enzo groans deep and spills his own over your tongue. A moment passes, and then Theo is the first to pull away, panting, tearing off his mask and dropping into the chair beside the desk, and Enzo follows, tugging his jeans back up before slumping into another chair, mask still on—

Both of them are sprawled there, utterly spent, just as wrecked as you.

And then, after a few long, tense moments, you hear it—the clink of Galleons exchanged. You don't even need to look up for it to register. Theo tosses the coins into Enzo’s greedy palm because he was the true fucking winner here. The sound cuts through the stillness, and with it, that smug, unmistakable sneer in Enzo's voice.

"Told you she'd love it."

Asshole.

You roll your eyes. Your limbs feel like they're moving through molasses as you stand, your hands mechanically fixing your costume, adjusting the fabric against your thighs.

"You know, Enzo, if you wanted to watch Theo fuck me that bad, all you had to do was ask."

"What can I say," he shrugs, lazy, like he's discussing the weather. "I enjoy a bit of gambling."

Theo snorts, adjusting his collar, as if none of this fazes him. His eyes flick from you to Enzo. "Next time you'll be paying me."

"Next time?" You cock an eyebrow. "How generous of you."

"There will be a next time," Enzo says, flipping one of the Galleons between his fingers, that same smirk playing on his lips. "And I'll get my turn."

Your pulse quickens at the sheer arrogance of it, the way he says it like it's not even up for debate. You hate how much you like this side of him.

"Maybe next time you should."

They nod, both of them wearing their smirks like crowns. "Until next time, then."

[theodorenottwhore]

words on the page (aemond t. sex pollen pwp o.s.)

pairing : Aemond x Ysilla (Rhaenyra'sDaughter!OC)

warnings : PWP, dubcon- this is sex pollen (obvi) they are technically not fully consenting. might be hatesex but it also might not, uncle/niece incest, a ridiculous amount of orgasms, squirting, breathplay, restraint, spanking & slapping, and a slighttt breeding kink (srry i couldn't help myself)

word count : 10,000+

note : hope everyone enjoys. ty for all the love, always. likes, reblogs, comments, anything is gas in my tank xx

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“This library is big enough for the both of us, Uncle. You stay on your side, and I, on mine.” Ysilla offers, already working on tuning out the One-Eyed Prince’s mutterings as she gets lost in the sprawling shelves. 

“What if I want a book that’s on your side?” Aemond’s voice echoes up to the grand ceilings from where he must be several rows over, his annoyance clearer than the windows in the Sept. 

Ysilla rolls her eyes so hard she fears they might stick. “Do you not understand the concept of my side and your side?”

“These are all my sides. I grew up in between these stacks- I’m sure the texts at Dragonstone are missing you terribly. Why don't you go back and see if I’m right.” 

That retort stabs at her, the mourning for her home still living on in the thick ball of grief that resides heavily in her heart. It’s been a year since her mother took her rightful place on the Iron Throne, a year since the King had passed, and a year where all members of the Targaryen family had to learn how to live amongst one another once more. Nobody was enjoying it. And there were more days than not that the Princess fantasized of stealing borrowing a boat and sailing back to her beloved pile of rocks. 

“Shouldn’t you be out, oh, I don’t know, swinging a sword or ducking under one? You know, what men do.” It’s childish but Ysilla doesn’t mind stooping lower than her years. Her brothers keep her young and nimble, each one bringing with him a fresh battle of wits and stubbornness.  

He goes silent, blessedly, and she resumes her stroll, picking and plucking titles off the shelves that join the burgeoning pile cradled tight in her arms. Her mind wanders, the endless catalogues of writings whispering their words, lulling her further and further into the scriptural maze. 

Ysilla spots a peculiar text on a shelf taller than her, the aphotic ruby binding and woven gold stitching calling her name. She reaches up, tiptoeing until her feet creak and attempts to hook her finger under the edge of the spine. The old book sticks in place, judging her with a faceless scowl. She grunts, wobbling slightly, pushing forward again and gives it a good strong tug. Too strong, as it flies freely through the air and  Ysilla yelps, jumping to the side to dodge it. Everything goes topsy turvy, her balance lost to her and the rest of her assembled collection clatters to the ground. 

She curses, deaf to the sound of approaching footsteps as she drops to her knees and starts to gather the fallen books. She’s considerate of the older ones, stacking them carefully off to the side of the walkway. The causer of the chaos had landed face down, the text split open as if the ground itself was interested in its contents. Ysilla grasps it gently and turns it over, causing a plume of dust to shift off the pages and billow directly into her face. 

She coughs, sputtering for a breath that isn’t made up of ancient soot. She scrubs at her nose, sniffling and groaning in discomfort as her sinuses burn and her throat grows parched. Her eyelids wrench shut, tears already hot and clumping in her lashes. 

A vice grip in the form of strong fingers finds her arm, and she latches onto them desperately. She’s pulled to her feet, and a downy cloth is pressed tightly into her hand. She pats her face with it, drying her tears and spittle, its perfume of oranges and smoke chasing away the moldered stink clinging to every sense she has. 

“You alright?” Aemond asks cautiously, still holding her elbow steady. Ysilla blinks blearily at him, her nose red at the tip. She nods after a pause, coughing softly into his handkerchief. 

“Couldn’t breathe there for a moment.” She croaks, chuckling weakly before she gently pulls her elbow away. Aemond drops his hold, clasping his arms behind him and taking a step backwards. 

“The library is all yours- I’m going to go lie down.” 

She offers his hanky back, feeling a bit dumb as she does and more than a little embarrassed. Her uncle waves her off, and she skirts around him, careful not to intrude into his space. 

“Niece,” Ysilla turns. Concern is not a look she’s accustomed to seeing on his face, and certainly not when it’s directed at her, but the sight of it sends little tingles through her tummy. “Do you need me to escort you to your room?” 

She smiles dimly, self-conscious in all the ways that turn her cheeks peachy. 

“I think I can manage… thank you, Aemond.” Ysilla curtsies in a silly show of thanks, but he can tell her sentiment is genuine. 

Aemond swallows thickly, bowing his head in acknowledgment, watching her keenly as she shuffles out the doors that lead to the rest of the castle. She never calls him by his name. Always Uncle, and even sometimes My Prince, but the mocking lilt of that one is not lost on him. Aemond though… it’s like he’s hearing a brand new word.  

Shrugging off his worriment, he sighs, squatting down to collect the strewn about books. He inspects them as he does, less so judging and more so learning about his niece’s interests through her chosen reading materials. There’s a collection of songs- one for Drowned Men and one for Northmen that he’s read before. Another about the Lion King, Tommen II Lannister and his adventures in Volantis and, most provocatively, the remaining charred pages of Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History. Aemond holds onto it for longer than the others; she must’ve searched long and hard for it, he’s never even once stumbled across it in here. He tucks it carefully onto a shelf he’ll remember, and thinks of letting Ysilla know where she can find it later. 

Lastly, he comes to the one that sent her into a coughing fit and he regards it carefully. It isn’t smart, but even so, Aemond draws his dagger and nudges at it, angling up the flap so that he can read the title: Potions of Old Valyria. He lifts it too high, trying to see better in the dreary light of dusk and loses his leverage, the cover falling closed and puffing out a small cloud of dust in his direction. He snaps backwards but he’s not fast enough, the grit already coating the slick press of his lips. Aemond spits, growling, scrubbing at his mouth with the back of his hand. He winces as his nose stings, the watering in his eye blurring his vision. 

He shoots to his feet, gathering up the massive stack of books and tossing them onto an empty writing desk, kicking away the potion book in juvenile anger. He stalks out of the library, cursing blindly as he retreats to his room. 

The Prince does not read the page of which the dust had danced off of. But if he had, mayhaps he would have rethought the course of his actions that night. 

“Pollen of the flower Turnera diffusa- a specimen of which is contained in this very page- has a curious effect on the indulger. Found growing along the creeks of Honeyholt, symptoms noted are as follows: fever, delirium, lightheadedness, and most notably, a heightened state of arousal. The affected should take caution to whom they keep in their company while under the spell of this love plant.” 

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Aemond shucks off his jerkin, sending it flying across his room carelessly. 

It's still there- the rabid itch under his collar. He stalks to his mirror, tearing up his shirt to check his skin, looking for a bite, a scratch, anything to explain the scorching sting engulfing him in full. Nothing, not even a blemish, mars his pale chest. 

He curses, spinning on his heel and going for his table, seizing the wine pitcher so roughly the lit candles nearby shudder from his haste. He pours a full goblet, the deep burgundy trickle causing his mouth to flood with anticipation. He downs it in several gulps, gasping as he rips the cup away and lets it teeter on the table until it spins out, toppling over emptily. He might as well’ve drank from the Great Sand Sea, his tongue heavy in his mouth. Aemond clutches at his stomach, a sharp shooting pain ripping up his insides. He groans, taking a knee as his legs wobble beneath his weight. 

Fuck, he wonders if it was the book, the dust he breathed in. If Ysilla is as bad off as he is. 

Ysilla. Worry spears through him, bringing with it a healthy dose of clarity. She breathed in more than he did, he’s sure of it. He needs to get her to a maester, lest she’s already staggered out of her own room in search of aid. 

He stumbles to his wall, finding the familiar crease in the stone and pushing. The path into the tunnels is one he knows well and he’s lucky he does, his mind fogging over and his pulse thumping in his temples. He’s never entered her chamber this way of course, so he can’t be sure when he comes to an unknown stone archway that he’s where he needs to be. 

He pushes until he feels the door gives way, a slice of light pouring in through the crack. He edges it forward a little more, until he can see enough of the room to confirm it’s not a servant’s quarters. 

“Niece?” Aemond coughs, his tone gruffer than what he’s used to. His throat is arid, greedy for a nectar to soothe it. No one answers, but as he strains his hearing, shuffling feet and rustling bottles come forth, confirming that someone is inside. 

“Ysilla?” He calls out. Another jolt of agony flares through him and he gasps, startling forward, catching himself on the door and accidentally making it swing open. Aemond stumbles through, colliding with an overstuffed armchair and making it screech terribly across the floor. His head shoots up, and he catches sight of his niece across the room. 

Ysilla wouldn’tve noticed if Vhagar herself trampled through the door. 

She’s… much more undone than she was before. Her curly raven locks, once pinned up and out of her face, spring madly from her head, cloaking her face in a dark flowing curtain. She scurries around the room, mouselike, pressing a wet rag to her throat and then to her forehead, and back again. Twenty or so books are open and strewn about on the long table, looking as if they were caught in a sweeping wind. Long gone are her slippers, and the long sleeved pink gown she donned before is abandoned in a silky puddle by the door.

Her chemise, a pale yellow thing with capped sleeves, has gone transparent from the perspiration that has broken out all over her body. It clings to every dip, every curve, shadowing her in a gauzy golden haze. Her bronze nipples tent through the delicate fabric and the thatch of hair over her womanhood matches in color-

Aemond snaps his gaze away, cheeks flaming. 

“Ysilla.” He nearly shouts, stare finding his boots and staying there. 

The woman in question spins around, catching sight of her uncle in the corner of her room, the hidden door she had never had enough courage to use ajar behind him. 

“Aemond… you need to leave.” Her words rumble out of her, like there’s a beast in her belly, roaring through her skin and rattling her bones. “Leave!”

He doesn’t move and Ysilla hurls the rag in his direction.  

“Did you not hear me? I said go!” 

Annoyance chips away at Aemond’s embarrassment. He’s trying to help her, insufferable brat. “You don’t command me, Niece.” He responds, still refusing to look at her. 

She scoffs, happy to channel her discomfort into a much more satisfying emotion. “You sneak into my room, catch me in the middle of undress, and still, you act put out.” Ysilla spits, her temper raising with her temperature.

Gods, she’s miserable. The moment she stepped foot in her bedchamber, her dressings were off, and she drank down water until she felt the urge to spew. It’s as if she can’t catch her breath- she’s so dizzy and her uncle’s sudden company has somehow made it worse. Her belly cramps, and she crosses her legs tightly in search of relief. She cries out, the budding sultriness in her flower springing to life, and wetness coats her thighs in a rush. Gasping, she nearly trips as she collides with her bed’s edge. 

“Ysilla, breathe.” Aemond commands harshly.

His voice is so nice. Has it always been that nice? That soothing? Her snatch gives a happy thrum, her clit fluttering at the memory of his strong grip upon her arm. How he had held her steady in her dizziness, how he had towered over her, so imposing, so encapsulating, making sure she was well. Ysilla gasps, stunned at her body’s wanton reaction. 

“You don’t understand. Please, go.” He’s her uncle- her uncle that doesn’t even like her. This cannot- will not happen. 

“I need to get you to a maester. If you’re feeling what I’m feeling, if you’re feeling it worse, fuck, Ysilla, I need to get you help.”

He needs to stop saying her name like that, in that breathy, strained tone of his. He sounds exerted. He sounds exhausted. He sounds like he’s on the cusp of falling apart. It stokes the fire in her blood. 

“The things I want to do to you… the things I want you to do to me.” Ysilla whines quietly, terrified that he’ll hear her. 

A subtle knock-knock at her chamber door quiets them both, and they hold their breath. Again, a knock-knock echoes through, and Ysilla curses the diligence of her ladies. Aemond goes for it, stalking across the room in his usual strutting gait. 

Ysilla panics and rushes forward, latching onto his arm and pulling him to a stop. 

“Aemond, Uncle, please, send them away. I don’t want them to see me like this.” She begs, pleading with him through a glistening gaze. 

Aemond readies his denial, sharp and bitter on his tongue but he loses his voice as he looks at her. He keeps his eye on her face, hyper aware of the press of her nearly naked figure against his side. Her heart shaped face is drawn in a frantic frown, terror rich and vast in her eyes. She smells of the Essos oils in her hair and the coconut oil on her skin, and it all makes his head go a bit fuzzy. 

She squeezes his arm, again, a final silent plea. He nods his assent. Ysilla dashes behind him, slipping deeper into the room, blowing out candles until the bedchamber dims into darkness. She voices a small, urging hum, and Aemond takes his cue and yanks the door open. The visitor, a girl no older than three-and-ten, blinks at him in surprise.

“My Prince,” she curtsies hurriedly and Aemond nods his acceptance, but his face must spell out his impatience because she speaks so fast, her words stumble over one another. “I thought I heard the Princess in distress. I was coming to check on her, to make sure she’s alright.” 

Her eyes dart over his shoulder, her head bobbing to the side as if she were trying to peek in. Aemond moves with her, raising his arm so that it rests above him in the doorway, pulling the door nearly closed behind him. The maid swallows, dropping her eyes in apology.

“The Princess isn’t well- very sick. Keep the other maids away, guards too. She wishes for solitude.” He’s a pushover and he hates it. One look of Ysilla’s beseeching gaze and Aemond gave like a straw bridge. 

“Should I send a maester?” The maid asks worriedly, making to exit down the hall and find help. 

“No!” The young girl jolts to a stop, her eyes wide with alarm. Aemond curses himself, and he speaks softer through gritted teeth. “No, she just needs rest. I’ll see to her, since I’ve already been exposed. I’ll call upon you if I change my mind.” 

The maid eyes him cautiously, but she finally relents, dropping into a curtsy before hurrying down the wall. 

On the other side of the door, Ysilla feels as if she’s going fucking mental. 

She’s balled up her bedsheet, and wedged it between her quivering thighs. The fabric pressed so intimately against her cunt is unforgiving, soaking up her syrupy slick and giving little in return. But the friction along her clit makes her gasp, and it urges on her rutting in dreams of a release so sweet, she could cry. 

The low droll of Aemond’s voice slithers into her ears from across the room, her mind warping the words until he’s whispering to her. What a good girl she is, how desperate she is to find her pleasure, how angry he is that she’s fucking her bed and not him. Ysilla’s eyes shoot open as she hears the squeak of her door, her hopes crashing as she realizes he’s pulling it shut while he’s behind it, not in front of it. 

She collapses forward onto all fours, fisting the furs blanketing her duvet, smothering a broken moan into the softness. Her eyes peel open, her glassy gaze landing on her bedside table. Aemond’s handkerchief is still there- right where she’d left it- the emerald hue of it glowing midnight green in the candlelight. Suddenly, it’s in her grasp, even though she cannot recall moving for it. She presses it to her nose and draws in a shaky breath.

Oh, oh, it smells of him. Citrus and smoke and she’s drooling for it, mouth watering so quickly she has to swallow it down so she doesn’t slobber. She swings her hips forward before rolling backwards, dredging the sodden sheet through her sex. It’s so wet now, the smoothness almost feels like skin. And that’s too much for Ysilla- she can hear him, smell him, but the thought of Aemond in between her legs?- it sends her plummeting off the cliff of desire, her core pulsing vibrantly, pleasure buzzing through her whole body. 

A phantom hand finds the same spot where Aemond had handled her earlier, and rips her upwards. She’s pulled to her knees, still atop the bed, as someone presses up behind her. Ysilla peers over her shoulder, the handsome face of her uncle a welcome sight. He is an apparition appearing from her thoughts alone. He doesn’t even seem real.

Her thoughts are askew with an edge of delirium, her insides purring at his sudden return. Ghoul or not, she will not squander such a golden opportunity. Ysilla fists the front of his shirt and drags him in, their mouths joining together harshly. Aemond would be lying if he said he didn’t kiss her back at once. It gets intense. Fast. 

Ysilla melts into his chest, whimpering into his mouth while his grip goes from her elbow to sliding around her, dragging her in closer by her waist. His tongue finds her teeth and she opens up slowly, letting him feel the threat of them, as he slithers in and their tongues touch-

Aemond tears himself away, stumbling backwards, heaving for air and looking at her with a wide eye. Ysilla whimpers, her fantasy failing her, and she slips off the side of the bed to settle on wobbly legs. Her palm goes to press at her abdomen, hoping that the pressure will relieve the burrowing ache. 

They stare at one another, wild animals on alert, a standoff that neither Prince nor Princess can bear to lose. 

Ysilla’s gaze falls to his lips, and Aemond’s to hers. She bites her lip, sucking the meat into her wet, warm mouth before releasing it with a lurid pop. Aemond groans, an audible surrender. 

To Hell with it all. 

They crash into each other like lightning, hands mapping anywhere they can reach. Her body blooms for him, like a flower under the summer sky. He steers them back towards her bed, Ysilla blindly clamoring atop to sit while he stands tall. His touch on her skin has her thighs spreading, opening up and offering herself for his taking. 

“I can’t stop, I can't stop.” He presses kiss after kiss to her mouth, her closeness doing nothing to extinguish the burning in his blood. If anything, she makes it worse, the inferno raging deeper and into his very soul. 

“I don’t want you to stop.” Ysilla whines, snaking their legs together and threading her fingers through that beautiful hair of his.

She’ll enjoy this- him. Every inch of Aemond belongs to her tonight. She thinks of drawing the blade from his hip, and carving her name into his skin. Mark him up nice and neat, streak his pale powdery skin red with her desire. Whatever is happening to her- to them- summons something animalistic, something primal out of the dark parts of their hearts. All tender fantasies of her future husband treating her with such a tame touch are cleaved in half and fed to the hounds. In their place, filthy, feral desires fester and warp her mind until one lone ambition remains: him inside of her, for the rest of their days.

“We don’t even like each other.” Aemond growls between their parting lips. Ysilla slides her way into his mouth, flirting with the sharpness of his teeth, suckling the sweetness out of his tongue. 

“We can’t stand each other.” She affirms, breaking their lips apart, her hands already under his tunic, letting her palms drink in the ridges and rises of his impressive physique. She kisses along the strong edge of his jaw, curling her fingers into clenched claws and rips her way down his chest. Not a blade, but he bloodys all the same. Aemond snarls, catching her by the throat so brutally her teeth clack. His eye pierces through her like a blade, and Ysilla relishes in the pain, his touch upon her skin soothing away her ache.

“Bitch.” He hisses, what little familial respect they harbor for each other crushed under lust and loathing. 

“Prick.” She bites back, grazing at his lip to send her point home. Gods, he’s so close but not close enough. 

Ysilla pulls his hand between her legs- the one not choking her out- and Aemond cups her sex readily. Her heat damn near blisters him, and he grinds his palm into her slick folds, coating his hand in her arousal.

“Yessss…” Ysilla hisses in sated victory, her blood pumping thick as her body finally gets a taste of what it's been craving. Even one finger of his is nearly too much as he slips it in, the stretch a tepid burn that only gives way as her body adjusts. 

“You need to be able to take more than that if you want to take my cock, Princess.” He whispers at her lips, already imagining how tight she’ll be around him. He won’t insult her by asking- he knows he’ll be her first. And the thought of that… of taking her maidenhead for his own, being the first man to be inside of her, searing himself into her memory that even time won’t take away… Aemond has to fucking focus. 

“I can take it.” She assures him, head nodding wildly, her thighs splitting open even further. His grip has loosened around her throat, and he strokes where it’s sure to bruise, trying to not grow hot at the vision of his mark marring her body. He hums his approval, letting his middle finger glide forward, her essence enough to ease the way into her hole. 

He scissors them, back and forth, working her pure channel open gently, basking in the silky tensing of her walls. The pained scrunch in her brow has disappeared, giving way to the pleasured furrow of her forehead, her hips beginning to roll up and meet his digits. She grabs ahold of his wrist, stopping his motions, and she pins him in place with a lavender leer. 

“Take off your clothes.” It’s a command, no matter if it is spoken in her soft honeyed voice. 

Aemond loses his shirt and unlatches his belt, tossing it and his sword onto the bench at the foot of her bed. His breeches slide off with Ysilla’s help, her eager fingers untying his laces. He kicks off his boots, not realizing how confined he felt with so many layers hindering him until his skin is bared. She moves backwards, further up her bed and he crawls after her, prowling like a wildcat, covetous sight trained on her. 

The little minx yanks on his elbow, and he crashes into the mattress and suddenly, he’s the one on his back. Aemond lets Ysilla pin his wrists on either side of him, her victorious smile just as comely as the rest of her. Her breasts pillow against his chest, and dammit, she needs to hover above him so he can catch one in his mouth. But she denies him that treat, squeezing his wrists to focus his attention.  

“Don’t move. That’s an order.” His cock twitches from where it’s pressed to her thigh and her lips twitch at his reaction. She kisses his throat, right at the base where his collar bones meet, and her whisper vibrates through to his heart. “Good boy.” 

Ysilla takes her time, voyaging down his body, a traveler on a sought after journey. Her tongue flicks out over each of his nipples, teasing the perked flesh with little swipes of her slick pink muscle. She traces her nose over the jutting contour of his rib cage, counts his muscled abdominals until there’s numbers on both hands, and kisses the scar on his hip, long healed from a tumble off of Vhagar’s saddle when he was just a boy. The fine silver hair trailing down his groin is wispy and it tickles her chin. 

Aemond’s cock is intimidating, even more so as she takes a lick from root to tip. The journey is longer than first guessed, and she thinks he grows even bigger after the swipe of her tongue, the jut of him swaying in the air as more blood thickens him out. The fact that all of that will be stuffed inside of her makes Ysilla shiver, her cunt yearning for the press of his long fingers. 

Fervently, she swallows him down until he greets the back of her throat. The salt of him is jarring but not unwelcome- nothing can be unwelcome about this as Aemond sucks in a ragged breath and fists the sheets. The muscles in his arms strain and bulge, a sight that only incentivises her to keep sucking. 

He’s a thick, velvety weight on her tongue, her mouth full even with inches still to spare. Her drool dribbles down his staff, and her hand wraps around what she cannot swallow. She glides her lips over his length rhythmically, jacking her fist over the rest of him, retreating with a pop to spit on his tip for more lubrication. 

Ysilla has always been one for sweets but this? This is a taste she can find herself craving. She suckles on the head, dipping her tongue into his slit, shivering at the sharp burst of his spunk on her taste buds. She dives forward again, gagging around him, the intrusion into her throat a strange feeling she forces herself to adjust to. 

Aemond keeps her hair pushed behind her ears, his thumbs stroking her temples as he fights to not thrust down her throat until she chokes. A familiar tightening in his sack has him voicing the exact opposite of what he wants her to do. 

“Silla, pull off.” She’s on her fucking knees for him, he doesn’t need to defile her like this. Doesn’t need to treat her like a common whore and make her stomach his load. 

“Ysilla.” He says, more firmly, but she’s such a rebel, swallowing around him once more, letting him feel the constricting vice of her throat. He can’t take it- he gives her what she wishes. 

“Silla, qrugh.” Cursing, he keeps her head still as he empties his balls and fills her belly. He hooks his thumb into her mouth, breathless, breaking the suction and pulls out of her throat. Ysilla coughs, gulping down air and saliva before she gifts him a shiny smile. Aemond scoffs. Unbelievable. 

“You’re a nasty little thing.” He pants out, a compliment he means wholeheartedly. 

She chuckles hoarsely, and her lips are still gooey with his seed. 

“You love it.” 

The urge to fuck her returns tenfold and he sits up, hand at the back of her neck to wrench her up to his mouth. She whimpers, swapping his cum between their tongues. It’s sticky and vulgar and overwhelmingly erotic. 

Ysilla stumbles to her feet, pulling Aemond with her, leading him to the lounge area in front of her hearth. Their mouths remain intertwined, unwilling to part even for a moment. She pushes him into an armchair, the old velvet soft beneath him before following him down, and settling swiftly in his lap. 

“Off.” He demands but he can’t help but be an active partner in his niece’s undressing. Her hands dash to the hem of her shift, gathering up the skirt hurriedly. Aemond’s hands glide up her body, caressing the naked skin that is revealed to him as she pulls it up and over her head. She’s so sleek with sweat she looks polished- an apple ready to eat, something to be devoured. 

“What do you want me to do?” Aemond asks, not for lack of knowledge but to see how far she wishes to take this. 

Ysilla grins, ducking down and drawing him into an eager kiss. “Whatever you want to do. Just make me feel good.”

Loyal as a hound, Aemond’s mouth goes to her breast, her posture perfectly presenting her chest to him. He takes in as much as he can, greedily sucking and licking until her tender flesh blushes a bright sticky red. He rolls her pert nipple between his teeth, tugging just enough to make Ysilla gasp. She makes pretty sounds- he can’t wait to hear what she’ll sound like as he fucks her stupid. He switches to her other breast, feasting on her supple bosom like he’ll never eat again. His cock bobs upright, his body needing no time to rest, ready and racing to experience the delicacy of her cunt. 

The Princess whines, combing through his tousled hair, tugging on it like she would horse reins. Such a commanding queen she’ll be. 

“Need it, need you.” She whines, swinging her hips lower, searching for the weeping start of his prick.

“Easy, Ysilla.” He warns, even as his thoughts scream to grip her hips and teach her how to ride him, but she’s such a stubborn little dragon and her thoughts may be just as commanding as his. She leans back, reaching between her thighs until she brushes at the head of his cock and steadies him. Lining herself up, she sinks torturously slow, downdowndown every inch until she sits upon his thighs. 

“Oh, fuck.”

“Oh… my.”

They both breathe out, blinking away black stars that dance in their vision, the pollen tapping every nerve ending in each of them until they sputter and fizz uncontrollably. 

The discomfort fades for her faster than she’d thought, transforming into a pleasant fullness that she can feel heavily behind her stomach. Ysilla searches for what feels the best, moving faster and faster on Aemond’s lap as each new shift in position guides her further towards the liquid heat in her loins. She settles on swiveling up before dropping back down onto him, riding him like she’s saddled. Hot streaks of exhilaration engulf her insides, every pass of his cock adding to the ecstasy swirling inside of her. The stretch of him, not just from length but from width as well, itches the scratch left behind after the library disaster. Even as she tried to bring herself to pleasure earlier, there was something missing from her peak. Something that’s building, stacking, soaring fast in her belly. That final crest of a wave, ready to crash and drown anything that’s not pure, hot ecstasy-

Before it collapses back into a tidepool. The pitted feeling of falling through the air as you miss a step in the dark settles over her lust, and she jerks. Ysilla’s eyes snap open, her pupils blown so wide Aemond can barely see a ring of amethyst around them. She whines, bouncing on his cock faster, chasing a release she’s not sure she can find. 

“Qybor, kostilus. I can’t cum like this.” Almost to make her point, she circles her hips up, leaving only the head of him kissed by her tight hole before dropping down and taking every inch of him at once. Aemond holds strong to his stamina, refusing to empty inside of his niece so quickly. 

A shame though, he was so enjoying the view. He winds his arms around her hips, keeping her nice and close as he slips them off of the chair and onto the floor. Several furs keep them cushioned from the chilly stones below and he drags a pillow off the loveseat to ease her up on. 

“Turn for me, sweetling.” He maneuvers her onto her belly, his grip finding her hips and shepherding her into position onto her hands and knees.

Aemond stands corrected- this view is nice. The burnished copper of Ysilla’s coloring clashes deliciously with his own pale complexion. Her backside is plush and hefty, budding from her shape in a way that invites his attention. 

Whatever you want to do. Aemond slaps her right cheek, reveling in her sharp gasp, and the way a perfect red welt appears on the smooth skin. He lands another, on the opposite globe, hypnotized by the jiggle of the flesh. He strikes her again because he can, not ignorant to the way his rough treatment has her absolutely dripping down her thighs. Another for good measure, satisfied in the brilliant bruising he’s left behind.

Just make me feel good. He strokes his cock, still slick from her spit and her honey, and lines his head up at her opening. She arches up, dipping down onto her arms, raising her bottom to prop against him. The angle is too good not to take advantage of. Aemond spits, his foamy white saliva dripping viscously into her tight hole and he pushes it inside of her as he strokes forward. 

Ysilla voices her approval of the new position, wiggling back against him as he goes as deep as she’ll take him. He builds a tempo, in out in out, finding a pace that makes her clench impossibly tighter. His sack slaps intensely at her clit, drawing punchy little gasps out of her that he wants to devour. He digs his fingertips into her hips, thumbs fanning out to stroke the luscious bounce of her bottom. He goes to pause, planning on switching his angle so that some strain can be relieved from her spine.

“No! Aemond, stay there, right there, yessss.” Ysilla flails her hand behind her blindly, not stopping her begging until she smacks into his naked torso. Aemond stares down at his niece in confusion, catching sight of her profile, her eyes trained intently on something that is certainly not him. 

He looks up, and catches his reflection staring back at him from across the room. The giant wardrobe mirror is tucked into the corner, and the Gods are good because they're directly in its path, their coupling on display for their viewing pleasure. 

Aemond drops down, blanketing Ysilla with his body, watching his Other do the same. “Oh, I see.” He chuckles, driving into her slowly. 

It’s almost as if they’re watching someone else- surely the couple in the reflection cannot be them. No poise, no manners, not even an ounce of trepidation to be seen. In place, disheveled, howling, rutting animals grind against each other, naked and insouciant in search of their gratification. Aemond enjoys the portrait they make, admiring it so much that he stalls in his thrusting and stills completely inside of Ysilla.

“Aemond, come on.” She whines, moving impatiently against him. “Nākostōbā taoba, making me do all the work.” She mewls, riding down and humping his cock.

Aemond’s trance snaps, and he secures a fistful of her hair, forcing his niece into a backbend. He ignores her yelp, smacking her thigh to halt her gyrations. His lips go to her ear, and this close to her throat, he can hear the lifeblood rushing through her arteries. 

“What was that?” 

“I just thought, unhhh… just thought you would be a bit more… involved in this.” She giggles, fucking laughs even as her bones creak for mercy. It’s harder to breathe this way, and the lightheadedness spurs on her mouth. “Thought you wanted this as badly as I did.” 

Little fucking brat. He laughs too, because it’s funny. Funny because of how right she is- he should be more involved in this, a bit more committed. Ysilla stills at the sound, the audible sound of her gulping nervously has his cock jumping in interest. Her fear is just as tasty as her willingness. 

He crosses both arms over her chest, his forearms thick bars over her throat and he forces her up, so he can fuck his cock into her belly and watch her tits bounce as he does so. Ysilla’s face contorts into a euphoric mask, her eyes rolling back into her head and her pouty mouth hanging open in slack-jawed pleasure. 

“Something on your mind, Princess?” She doesn’t respond, her brain being fucked straight out of her head.

Aemond slaps her face, the sharp crack bringing her back to the present, and back to Aemond fucking her like he owns her. She moans again, her pussy spouting a wash of arousal around his bullying cock. He catches her by the jaw, digging his thumb into the bone and rubbing at the struck flesh of her cheek. His lips are wet at her ear, and she watches him through glossy eyes as he smirks, and bites down on her ear lobe. 

“Answer me, Ysilla.” His niece shouts but Aemond has no sympathy for her. If she can dish it out, she can take it. “You did want this? Or you do want this?” 

He’s searching for the willpower to pull out of her, and put her over his knee to send home his message when she babbles out her acquiescence.

“I want this! Bisa, bisa, bisa, fuck, gaoman gaoman. I want you, Gods, nyke jaelagon ao!” Valyrian braids through her words without forethought, her focus aimed on Aemond’s cockhead tapping at her womb. 

“Sȳz riña.” She preens at the endearment, throwing her hips back against him frantically. A beautiful toothy smile has broken brightly over her face, Aemond catching sight of it in the mirror before he shatters the grin, nailing a spongy spot inside of her that makes her eyes cross.

“Sooo good, so fucking big, feel you right here.” She tries to gesture to her throat but she ends up digging her nails into the arms caging her in, hanging off of him desperately. Her poor battered cunny is still somehow famished for more, the squelch of his cock moving in and out of her a licentious lyric that lulls both lover’s into a trance. Aemond pulls her even tighter to his front, however possible that may be, and plunges repeatedly into her snug cunt, beating the walls of her swollen so she won’t be able to walk without thinking of him first. 

As if they miss each other, Aemond’s and Ysilla’s eyes meet in the mirror, violent violet and silver steel clashing and melding into one harmonious color. 

Their stares fall lower, where they meet over and over and over again so brutally. Her thighs glisten in the candlelight, her flesh rippling with every thwack of Aemond’s hips. It’s so dirty, so primal, so right. He’s going so deep, he could put a babe in her belly. Just a whisper of that fantasy, of her giving him a child, letting him have such a claim on her breaks her apart. 

She screams, Aemond’s palm smacking over her mouth as her thighs give out, and she sags to the floor. He follows her down, draping himself over her back, still fucking her in earnest, chasing his own blissful breaking point. He finds it, after three more punishing thrusts. But even as his balls release and he feels Ysilla grow slicker as his seed coats her insides until it leaks a white ring from where they’re joined, his cock is still hard and heaving from his body. 

He pulls out and Ysilla sobs at the loss, scrambling on the furs, but her cries disintegrate as she’s flipped onto her back. Aemond slings both of her legs into the crooks of his elbows, yanking her forward so he’s flush to her thighs, her pussy a pretty little jewel winking up at him. His seed oozes a pearl stream from her fluttering hole and he swipes it up with his cock, and it’s as slippery as oil as he bottoms out inside of her. 

Fucking Seven, she’s unreal. “Taking every inch of me… like you were made for this, ñuha pretty līve.”

“Made for you, I think.” Ysilla gasps, ripping at the furs, trying to anchor herself down so she doesn’t burst apart. 

Aemond nips at her chin, doing nothing to quell the smug smile on his niece’s lips. “Careful.” 

Careful for what? She wants to question so badly. Careful on what she voices aloud, even as they speak it in both of their minds? Careful on implying that her cunt will not weep for him anytime he passes by her now? Careful to claim that the only place he should be after tonight is right where he is now?

But it is not the time for words of the heart, so she digs her nails into Aemond’s broad shoulders in a gnaw and throws her head back. 

“I’m right there. Yes, Aemond, yes!” 

Oh, is she now? Aemond grins, slowing his thrusts to purposefully watch her eyes shoot open incredulously. 

“Don’t stop! Fuck, why are you stopping?” Ysilla growls, circling her hips up against him, doing her best to fuck him herself. So desperate, so full of unadulterated desire, she cannot find it within herself to be appalled at her own salaciousness. 

“I thought you couldn’t cum like this?” Aemond mocks and oh, it’s fun to play with her. 

Her decorum deserting her, Ysilla lets anger lead her movements and her hand flies at his face to strike him. He catches her easily, still smiling that infuriatingly sexy smirk, and drops a modest kiss on the heel of her palm. Ysilla melts, her love bitten lips pouting dramatically. 

“Aemond, ñuha zaldrīzes, please.” He likes when she begs- she can see it in the way his jaw ticks, how his skin flushes, as if his body alights in her prayers to him. Aemond won’t acknowledge it, but somewhere deep in his chest, she’s already wormed her way in. He splits her in half, leaning over her until he can rest his palms by her shoulders, her legs still draped over each of his arms. 

He drags himself out, inch after inch, agonizingly slow before he lurches forward, making her pussy swallow his entire cock. Aemond groans, finding himself burrowed in the valley of her breasts, letting his hips pummel her in an amorous hammering. 

“Scream for me, love.” 

She doesn’t need to be told twice- her lungs finding the air to blurt out,

“Aemond, fucking hell!”

Ysilla goes limp, her thighs butterflying open, giving him full reign to dictate her pleasure. She squirts, a wet spray soaking his abdomen that puddles beneath them. Her whole body heaves, appearing almost pained in euphoria. She’s a holy vision. 

Fuck, he’s losing his mind. “Do that again.” He demands. 

He cups the back of her neck, propping her up until they’re eye to eye. Ysilla’s are lidded, exhaustion heavy weights upon them, but she manages a tiny nod and curves herself upwards for his continued onslaught. 

Completely at his mercy, his to control, Aemond takes full advantage. Dragging her down by the back of her neck, he plunges himself brutally inside of her cunt over and over, again and again. She lies there and takes it like a good girl, witnessing her uncle destroy her in the name of desire until he grants her mercy, and he strokes her pearl with the sharp edge of his thumbnail and she blacks out.

Aemond chokes, sparks shimmering in and out of his vision as she convulses around his cock. He pulls out of her, spurting striping streaks of white onto her belly. He cums so hard, it splashes over her tits and even pools in the hollow of her throat. 

Ysilla moans, coming to, rubbing her fingers over the soiled skin of her stomach, blending their releases together in a filthy film that coats her fingers. She pops one in her mouth, and relishes in the blossoming light brightening once more in Aemond’s lone eye.  

And just as quickly as their relief had come, the satisfaction fizzles out and ravenous blood boiling need takes root once more. 

They groan, barely taking time to catch their breath before they’re on each other again. Their mouths are sloppy, leaving trails of saliva down to their chins and along their throats. Ysilla finds a spot she likes over his pulse point and suckles, her left leg wound tight over his hip, rubbing herself off along the unyielding ridge of the bone. Aemond kneads her arse, an apology for his abuse, rolling the voluptuous flesh in his calloused grip all the while dipping his fingertips in and out of her weeping slit.

They tangle in each other’s webs, so caught up in salt and sin that they don’t realize they’re off the rugs and across the floor until the frigid chill rushes through them. 

It’s uncomfortable- their knees will be bruised by the morrow, scrapes along their backs will sting while in the bath, and a crick won’t leave Ysilla’s neck for half a moon. But the stone cools their overheated skin and together is where they still want to be, so all else falls to the wayside. 

Their mouths have drawn back to each other, Ysilla’s tongue flirting with his back teeth and the roof of his mouth, mapping a place she can only dream of revisiting after tonight. Aemond pulls away and Ysilla’s teeth in his bottom lip scold him for his interruption. He smirks, giving her a departing peck to soothe her sour mood. 

“I need to meet her properly, Princess.” He says with an uncharacteristic amount of mirth, leaning her back as he dips down to her lower body. 

Ysilla is bone-weary and dehydrated, but even she knows that doesn’t make any sense. She cocks her head in confusion, watching him as he settles on his front, his face so close to her center, the hot damp of his breath makes her quiver. 

“Who is her- oh! Oh, Seven Hells, Aemond, fucking please-”

Aemond eats her with a fervor she’s never known, a man starved before being offered the bounty between her legs. Shrill gasps and pitched moans are sounds she thought herself incapable of making, but they sing aloud, her walls stowing them in their stones. 

Her thighs are over his ears, but the cushioned flesh does nothing to block out her calls of ecstasy. Music to his fucking ears, he slurps, undignified and ravenous, the parched dryness in his throat at last quenched as he swallows down Ysilla’s honey. No wine, no water could ever satisfy him like she does. 

Ysilla thrashes about on the unforgiving stone, her nails clawing at the ground so harshly that they chip. He’s sending her into madness, unrelenting in his licking even as she kicks at his sides. She’s too sensitive, it’s too much. 

And then, the realization that he is not only lapping up her arousal but his as well, zings up her spine and has her gushing all over his tongue. 

She can’t control herself anymore. Her worries have faded into nothingness as the night has gone on, as she had bounced on Aemond’s cock and came into his mouth and he into hers, and they’ve drank down one another’s spit and sweat and sex. She’s whimpering and whining, squeaky sounds with no words, only what her voice is capable of making. The pathetic, needy gasps draw Aemond’s attention immediately. He rises, hovering over her, pulling up her knees to frame his hips. He slides his cock home, not being able to breathe until he bottoms out, fully planted inside of her. 

She whimpers louder as he faces her, the effects of the potion hitting their last peak. 

“Let me see you. Let me see you.” Ysilla begs, distraught that there’s still something keeping them apart. They should be bare- exposed and raw and free. They’ve already come this far- it’s all or nothing. 

Even with her few words, Aemond understands her completely. He doesn’t give himself time to think, time to let self-consciousness tear and twist him up as he rips off his eyepatch. 

Ysilla sees him- truly sees him- his scar, the jagged split of his brow, the brilliant blue sapphire twinkling a wink at her as it glitters in the low light.  

“You’re so handsome.” And then she cries- big, fat, bulbous tears that spill from the corner of her eyes and streak over her cheeks. 

Aemond wants to comfort her, shush her and stroke her hair. Do all the things he should do with a lover that’s not only a lover, but his kin as well. A sweet girl he remembers always drawing for him on his nameday, sketching pictures of fearsome dragons. And as the years dragged on, they continued to evolve, growing fiercer and more detailed and she would always say the same thing when she gifted it to him: “this year, Uncle, this year you’ll find your dragon, I know it.” And here he is now, the Queen of the Skies his dragon, as if Ysilla herself had manifested it to life. 

But that was so long ago now that it seems a different lifetime, and Aemond realizes he doesn’t really know his niece. He doesn’t know what she likes and what she doesn’t, and that worries him more than he’s comfortable with. 

“Can’t... take… much… more.” She gulps down a breath after each word. Aemond’s thrusts push so deeply into her guts, that there now seems to be no room for her lungs. He hums, the vibration tickling where they’re pressed chest-to-chest. 

“Yes you can, jorrāelagon. You’ve done so well, taken everything I’ve given you. You’ve made me so proud, sweet girl.” He may not know how to soothe her, but Aemond has a knack for telling someone just what they need to hear. Only with Ysilla, he speaks no falsehoods. He whispers his admiration in her ear, keeping her close by a hand cupping her jaw, forcing her to listen to all of his praises, all the while snaking his hand down between them to pinch at her pearl. 

Small hiccuping gasps couple with her agonized moans; the pride, the pleasure, the pain, all of it an elixir Aemond drinks down his throat as she connects their lips once more, a soft tremble in hers that he soothes with his tongue. They cum together, less intense than their lasts, but still just as satisfying. Aemond spills inside of her, her silken walls milking him for every drop in his fucked out cock. He moans, long and loud into her neck and she peppers his cheek with kisses, her breathing heavy. He collapses, further down on her body so he doesn’t constrict her chest. 

The evening tempo of her breathing beneath his cheek has Aemond focusing on his own, and the two spent lovers take a much needed break to collect themselves. 

Tremors still shake her thighs, the creamy fawn flesh jumping from overstimulation. Aemond presses a kiss to the inside of her knee, a sweet assurance of relief hopefully not far behind their releases. She pets his hair, no energy left to even raise her head. He rises back up to look upon her face, wiping away a stray tear from her lash. She nuzzles into his hand and it all finally feels like enough. 

Until it isn’t. Until the lust fills them up once more, water in a pail, and it overflows and sloshes thickly in their bellies until they’re sick with it. 

Ysilla sobs brokenly, exhausted and at her wits end. Aemond shudders for breath, the pain in his stones throbbing incessantly for relief. They’ll lose their minds if they keep going- chasing an endgame that is unattainable. 

Aemond digs deep, attempting to collect himself and become the man Ysilla needs him to be. He tucks her legs around his hips, crossing her ankles behind him, and rises up to his feet with her draped around him. 

He carries them both on shaky legs, drifting along the wall for support until he rounds the corner to her privy. The golden casted tub is filled halfway with what was once steaming, boiled water but has now grown cool. Aemond swings a leg over the edge, trying not to collapse, Ysilla still wrapped around him like a second skin and settles them both into the pool.

The Princess crumbles, falling to pieces as they’re engulfed by the water. Her heartbeat still thrums from between her legs, her nipples scraping at Aemond’s chest for attention, as if he had not lauded them with his tongue until they were bruised and sore. The undying urge to mate is at her throat, its teeth gnashing at her veins and claws piercing her hips, ushering her to fucklicksuckfuck again and again and again until her brain would be lost to the lust. 

But her body is done- every muscle expended, every limb weighted, every bone crushed to nothing but dust. All she can manage to do is whimper softly from where she’s pressed into her lover’s chest. 

Aemond cups her face, raising her up so that he can look upon her. She’s a sculpture of desire: lips puffy and rubbed red, cheeks flushed, eyes teared and heavy. He did this to her. 

“One more, love. One more and then we’ll stop.” Aemond promises, the need too heavy in his cock, thickening his member until it lies straight up against her stomach. 

She nods stiffly, spreading her thighs until they mirror his hips. He taps the head of himself at her entrance, a gentleman waiting for the lady to make the first move. He doesn’t have to wait long, Ysilla pushing forward and taking his cock in full until their bellies rest flat against each other. She’s as tight as the first time, and the stretch is not lost on her either, her groan equal parts pained and pleased. 

Aemond’s hands are worshiping as he trails down the elegant column of her neck, the slope of her shoulder, the bloom of her breast, until he finds the small of her back and hugs her tight. They just dance, slow and steady, rolling their hips together, the water shifting with their union. They rest their foreheads against one another, eyes closed and noses brushing.

Aemond isn’t sure who leans in first- he thinks it may have been him but Ysilla will say the opposite. Their mouths slot together, innocent and vestal and it’s so much less eager than the times before, but it makes it all the more intimate. He moans weakly and she coos, her hands coming to cradle his face, the breaths they share one in the same. Somehow, it’s as if this exposes them more to each other than being joined so sensuously. A simple press of their lips, doing more for them than a thousand slippery tongues or nimble fingers. 

A gentle wash of pleasure, one that raises goosebumps along their arms and makes their breaths hitch is all that they get and then suddenly, finally, the call for gratification quiets and all prince and princess are left with is the drip of water off the edge of the tub. Ysilla sighs heavily, sounding every bit thankful and spent. Aemond takes a breath that feels like his first, and he sags against the resistance at his back. 

Everything is still, weariness seeping into them like ink to parchment. Aemond thinks he could doze off right here, Ysilla a comforting weight atop of him, his manhood still nestled in her center. 

Her palm is gentle on his cheek, her thumb rubbing back and forth in a tender sweep that stirs his eyelid to open. She’s beautiful, even in her enervation and he lets himself savor this moment. The world has paused for them, and it will not go on unless they will it to. 

“Thank you for taking care of me.” She whispers, afraid to shatter the silence. A final brush of her thumb over his bottom lip, softer than a feather, is her parting gift. She unseats herself from him, and even if she’s the one who wants to leave, her cunt does not agree. Her walls grasp at every ridge and vein of his prick, a caress goodbye until at last they part. Ysilla floats backwards, away from him, and the fact that he has an urge to catch her wrist and pull her back until she’s closer than skin terrifies him. 

She curls into a ball at the other side of the tub, an ocean away, and brings her knees to tuck under her chin. She stares at him unflinchingly and he stares back, tiredness glazing over them both. 

Aemond sighs deeply. One of them has to be the first to depart and since his quarters are on the other side of the castle, he begrudges that it is him who will have to make an exit. 

“I should go.”

Ysilla’s face is serene, every drop of willpower left in her battling the urge to slip beneath the water and fade away. She nods, a wooden lift and fall of her head.

“I think that’s best… I’m sure the whole castle knows what we’ve been up to.” 

Why her response stings, he won’t let himself dwell over. Nothing’s changed (everything has changed), they will soon return to their routines and carry on with their lives (neither one of them will be able to think of anything else but each other for the better part of a year). He rises from the water, stepping out and over the tub, reaching for a linen to at least try and make himself decent. 

It is she who catches his wrist in reality, her thin fingers looping over the bones until she surrounds him like shackles. 

“But… maybe…” Her eyes traverse their way down his body, revisiting the spots she had tasted, had bitten, had sucked. Her tongue snakes out, wetting her swollen flesh and Aemond has to think of the night he lost his eye, the stench of manure, anything to keep the blood from rushing to his spent cock. 

“Gods, Aemond, what’s one more bad decision tonight?” She’s not looking for an answer, not out loud, looking deep into his eye instead. Searching for an understanding she’s not sure is there. 

“Stay? With me?” Even after all the carnal ways they’ve explored each other, it’s those three pleading words that send Ysilla’s heart galloping in her chest as she voices them. 

Aemond stares at her, unanswering and still, and dread creeps up her neck in a cold chill. 

“Your chamber is a mess. We both need to eat and drink something other than wine. Not to mention sleep.” Aemond states stonily. Ysilla swallows passed the knot in her throat, sinking deeper into the water. Her fingers release him and she drifts away, in both body and mind. 

Aemond catches her fingers, and he threads his through hers like they’re meant to be there. He rubs small, soothing circles about her knuckles, and he brings them to his mouth on pure instinct, and presses a chaste kiss to the bones. 

“So I best bring you to my room then, to make sure all of that happens, no?” 

Aemond smiles first before Ysilla returns it widely. Hers is the sun appearing from behind a cloud, warmth bathing him, and welcoming him home. 

.

.

.

qrugh . shit

Qybor, kostilus . Uncle, please

Nākostōbā taoba . Weak boy

(I want this!) Bisa, bisa, bisa, fuck, gaoman gaoman. I want you, Gods, nyke jaelagon ao! . This, this, this, fuck, I do I do. I want you, Gods, I want you!

Sȳz riña . Good girl

ñuha pretty līve . my pretty whore 

ñuha zaldrīzes . my dragon

Jorrāelagon . love

[theodorenottwhore]

gonna eat that ass like it’s thanksgiving|

[theodorenottwhore]

Lessons Well Learned (Jace x Twin!Reader x Aegon)

Summary: Jace was a good husband, a loving husband. He adored you from inside and out. But he knew you all to well. He knew you wanted more than sweet and gentle. And who better to ask than a man known for his carnal nature?

(Sort of follow on to Lessons In Pleasure, the 'lessons' reference that fic but this can also be a standalone read.)

TW: Minors DNI, She/Her pronouns, afab reader, Jace being the softest of husbands, Aegon being Aegon, fingering, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, threesome, p in v sex, Aegon now showing Jace how to fuck, canon-typical incest, twin/targcest, they are happy families in this.

Reader is Jace's twin therefore shares features but is not explicitly described.

Words: 4926

THANK YOU again to @legitalicat for not only trusting me with this idea, hope it lives up to expectation!

The news of the betrothal to your twin brother was a welcome one. Your mother, Rhaenyra, was now Queen on the passing of your grandsire, Viserys. With Jace being the eldest child, he was made heir to the throne after your mother. The Great Houses were already in talks with your mother about marriage alliances and the like, those being saved for your younger siblings, your aunt and your uncles.

You and Jace, however, were meant for each other. It had been planned that way for the longest time. Your mother and father, Harwin, were smart enough to see that neither of you would accept a marriage to another. It had taken minor convincing on from Rhaenyra to Harwin to accept such an uncommon pairing, but even he could see past the blood relation to the bond the two of you shared.

The wedding happened just after the two of your turned eighteen, and it had been a few months since your first night together as man and wife. Before you had wed, neither you nor Jace had any experience in the ways of pleasure. Agreeing to save such things for the other, and for your wedding night.

When that night came, there was nerves – as expected – but you both simply let the feelings take over. Not forcing anything more than you were comfortable with and it worked.

For a time.

You had been married to Jace for months now. You were happy, comfortable. You assumed Jace felt the same.

In public, he was as protective and affectionate as he had always been. A hand on the small of your back. Or a hand on your thigh during dinner. When you were alone, he was attentive, loving. Did a little part of you want for more? Maybe. You would sit at tea with other ladies, listening to stories of how their husbands tended to their needs. Or how the men in the books they read would worship their women, bringing them to pleasures you could scarcely imagine. But you said nothing.

You did not want to make Jace feel inadequate, or that he was disappointing you. But he noticed. He always noticed. The way you would seem lost in your thoughts when you lay together, the small and passing look of disappointment when he was as soft and gentle as he always was.

At first, he was lost on what to do. He first went to the library, searching for the novels he knew existed. Maybe you had read them, like your friends at tea did? Maybe that was what had changed your feelings?

Reading them gave him ideas, but how would he know if that was what you wanted? He was afraid of embarrassing you, and himself, by asking. With his literary knowledge in mind, he went to the one person he hoped would help.

Aegon. His uncle was known, once, for his licentious ways. Now a married man himself, it was no secret that he and his wife had a more than satisfying carnal relationship. Who else could help Jace now?

The knock to Aegon’s door was not something he expected. The person on the other side was someone he expected even less.

“Nephew? To what do I owe this pleasure?” Aegon asked, returning to his chair and picking his wine back up.

Jace followed him inside and Aegon quickly noticed the nervous energy that seemed to roll off the younger prince.

“I need your…help.” Jace forced the words out. Mentally preparing himself for the mocking that would likely follow.

Aegon gestured for him to sit, curiosity turning to confusion. People did not often come to him for help. His relationship with Jace was better than it had been but having him need his assistance was still surprising.

“Help? With what exactly?”

Jace glanced at the wine on the table, pouring himself a glass and hoping it would calm his nerves. The tart liquid was never something he enjoyed, but the soft buzz it gave his mind was welcome. Aegon watched him intently, knowing whatever he was here for was causing him serious internal conflict.

“Whatever it is…”

But Jace was quick to interrupt.

“I will say this quickly and I ask you save your mocking until I am done, please.” Jace’s words were hurried, the nervous taking over again but Aegon nodded and waited.

“Now, I am not saying I do not know how to…satisfy my wife. But…”

Aegon stifled a chuckle, sipping his wine and letting Jace continue.

“But I fear she wants for something…different…to what I usually give.”

Jace averted his gaze as he finished speaking, not being able to bear the amused look Aegon was likely giving him. Aegon, while amused, could feel just how serious this was. It would have taken a lot for Jace to come to him, and despite the urge to mock him endlessly, Aegon felt the need to help.

“Has she told you? Voiced such things?” the elder asked and Jace simply shook his head.

“I just…know. I always know with her.”

It made sense. They were twins, more intrinsically entwined than most couples could be. Only one thought came to Aegon’s mind. The chaotic voice in his head told him to tell the entire truth in what he was about to say, but he imagined Jace would not want to know his father had fucked his aunt.

“And you want to change? What do you believe she wants?” Aegon needed to be sure that whatever he suggested would be something his nephew would accept. It was a line he had never thought to cross.

Jace was silent for a moment. As a lover and husband, he was always soft and gentle. Slow, taking his time to bring you as much pleasure as he could. Never asking the same in return. But maybe that was the problem? Was he too gentle? Too soft? Did you want something more like the depraved lovers from the books in the library?

“That is the problem, I do not know for certain. I just know what I do is not…enough.”

Now that hit a nerve with Aegon. Far too similar to how he felt when his own wife had sought outside help. That she wanted more than what he gave. That she wanted different. And the look on Jace’s face was much how he felt when Harwin had entered his chamber that evening.

“You wonder if she seeks something more…carnal. Or dare I say, depraved?” Aegon asked, watching Jace’s expression for any emotion either way.

The younger prince only nodded. It had been his first thought. That you wanted him to be rougher, not less loving, but just a little…more.

Aegon hummed in response. His suggestion could still go either way.

“I can sit here all day and describe all the ways to pleasure a woman, nephew, but I would wager it would not be enough.”

Jace finally met his gaze, and he saw far less mocking than he expected. If anything, Aegon seemed sincere.

“I will help, but I need you to be…open minded. I was once in the same situation as you, though it was a little more of a surprise to me. And I had help the way I will help you.”

As much as he wanted to, Aegon could not bring himself to reveal that Harwin had been the one to help. He had a distinct feeling that Jace knowing his father had bedded his aunt and now Aegon was repeating those lessons with him, would not go down well.

Jace frowned. Was Aegon suggesting what he thought he was? And it seemed his expression was enough to have Aegon explaining further.

“If you agree, I can…show you. As I was shown. But I would not do so without your permission.”

Jace nodded. So, it was exactly as he assumed. Part of him held a curiosity for where Aegon’s lessons had come from, but that could be something handled later. The question was, did he want it? Bringing Aegon into his marriage verbally was one thing. But physically? That was something else.

But despite his reservations, Jace knew he had little other option.

“I fear it is my only option, I have exhausted all others. How exactly will we do this?”

Aegon had run the situation past his wife first, knowing she would have something to say on the matter. And he had not expected just how enthusiastically she gave her permission. He had thought to question it, but there were some things he simply did not need to know.

Between them, uncle and nephew decided when Aegon would come to Jace’s marital chambers. The whole situation would remain a surprise to you, until a knock came too late in the evening for visitors.

But what surprised you more was the speed at which your husband went to the door. Ignoring your questions as he tugged the door open and hurriedly spoke to the person on the other side. You could have sworn you were hearing Aegon’s voice, but why was your uncle here so late in the evening?

Your question was answered when Jace returned, Aegon in tow. You looked between the two men with a raised brow.

“Am I missing something?”

Aegon only smirked as Jace went to your side quickly, whispering an explanation as your uncle turned to help himself to the nearby wine.

“And you suggested this, uncle?” you asked, bringing Aegon’s attention back to you.

He only nodded, swallowing his wine and smiling. You turned back to Jace. He did not seem upset, which gave you less to worry about. If anything, he seemed the most comfortable he had been for a while.

You were quiet for a moment. Part of you wondered what Jace had said to Aegon to make him both suggest and agree to it. Another part of you did not need to know. You had heard from your aunt about the change in Aegon, though she had not given more details when you pressed for them. And you were curious to see what the lessons here would be.

You looked back to Jace, finding him doing nothing but staring at you. Waiting.

“You went to him for this?”

You needed to hear it from him. To know what you suspected to be true.

“I did. I knew you wanted something more from me, and I feared you would not tell me if I asked.” Jace replied softly, those brown eyes you loved verging on pup like sadness.

“You always know, my love, I both hate and love that about you.” You smiled, a hand resting on his jaw as you pressed your lips to his.

You almost forgot Aegon was even in the room. Looking past your husband to see him now lounging on your plush couch, wine in hand as he smiled at you both. It should annoy you, how smug he looked. Like he knew something you did not.

“So, what exactly is the plan here?” you asked, to both of them really.

The men looked between each other. Clearly, this had been discussed sometime before Aegon came here tonight. That gave you comfort, in a strange way.

“Aegon will join us, help me be a different kind of lover. Not as…gentle or soft.” Jace explained and Aegon nodded in agreement.

Aegon had something of his own to add, however. He had considered a few things before he arrived. Jace had agreed to his involvement, but what if you did not?

“I will do nothing you do not want, sweet niece. I will not touch you unless you give me permission to now.”

That was surprising. Though you had heard many stories about how, despite his depravities, Aegon was a man of consent. It was now all resting on what you said next. A final look at Jace helped you decide.

“You have permission to do as you please, uncle.”

Now that was near akin to poking a bear. The look on Aegon’s face should have filled you with dread. But it did the opposite.

“I will instruct your husband first, show it myself if I must. Either way, this night will be nothing short of ultimate pleasure for us all.” Aegon said, his voice rougher and lower than you had ever heard it.

Aegon came to stand at Jace’s shoulder, where your husband remained knelt at your side as you sat on the bed. Having both men staring at you so intently had your skin heating and your cheeks blushed pink.

“Begin as you normally would,” Aegon instructed and Jace almost pounced on you.

The anticipation had almost been too much for him and his kiss was hungrier than you had ever experienced from him before. Pushing you back onto the bed and planting himself atop you. Your head caged between his forearms as he pushed his tongue into your waiting mouth.

It was like having an audience was already spurring him on. Making him want to work harder to impress Aegon before they had even begun. Your hands already tangled in his brown curls as one of his hands trailed its way to your waist. You could not help but roll your hips up into him, needing him to kiss you harder and touch you more.

Aegon could see your need and he knew that having Jace give in too soon would end this sooner than he would like.

“Take your time, nephew, make her desperate for your touch, for your kiss.” Aegon called over, eyes roaming over the two of you as Jace began to trail his kiss away from your lips.

Your gentle moans had Aegon leaning in, wine still in hand as he watched the way your hands seemed to restlessly grip whichever part of Jace you could find. Soon, the younger prince had your nightgown bunched up your thighs, not quite revealing your bare flesh.

“Please…Jace, please…” you pleaded, trying to push Jace’s head lower but he would not budge.

You sat up on your elbows, eyes wide as he turned to look at Aegon. Your gaze followed his and you realised he would only act on Aegon’s instruction. Which gave you an idea. If there was one thing few knew of Jace, it was his jealousy. Especially when it came to you. If Aegon was here to teach and if Jace was to hurry up and touch you, you knew you had to act.

“Will you not join us yet, uncle?”

Your hands carded through Jace’s hair, keeping his where he was as he littered kisses across your hips and stomach. You could feel him tense a little under your hand and you tried again to Aegon to do something, say something.

But Aegon remained where he was, though you could easily see the growing bulge under the fabric of his breeches. His hand now rested just to the side, close enough for him to begin to palm over it.

“In good time, niece.”

But he did lean in, eyes trained solely on the expanse of bare skin that Jace was revealing as he moved down your body. Your attention was soon returned to Jace as he lowered himself down and kissed down your thighs. Your lower half now bared entirely. You canted your hips up towards his face, but Jace did not give in. He remained teasing, kissing his way back up your body as he removed your nightgown entirely. Your body soon dropping back flat to the bed, eyes closed in pleasure.

His lips soon met yours again and you made quick work of his shirt before your hands dropped to the laces of his breeches, trying to remove them but soon being stopped by Jace’s hands over yours.

You could hear the soft footsteps of Aegon as he approached the bed, expecting him to move Jace away and begin the next instruction. When he did not, you leaned back up on your elbows to see what was happening. Aegon was clad now in only his trousers and nothing more. Having kicked off his boots and discarded his shirt between the couch and the bed. You chose not to question it, watching as your uncle settled himself next to Jace on the bed.

“Now, the best way to teach is to show…”

Aegon could have done as Harwin had done for him. He could have had Jace sit aside and shown him what to do from start to end. But that brought him little joy in thinking of it. The idea of showing Jace in real time, guiding him to pleasure you, had a burning heat settling in his stomach.

Jace did not expect Aegon’s hand to wrap around his wrist, but he did not push him away. Aegon was the teacher now, Jace a mere student and he would follow the lessons intently. Jace let his uncle guide his hand, not stopping Aegon when he laced their fingers together and trailed their joined hands over your body. Only stopping when they reached your breasts, Aegon urging Jace to begin to massage and squeeze your soft flesh.

You could not help the moans that left you. With Aegon’s help, Jace’s touch was more forceful than it usually was. Not painful, but the strength behind it was a welcome change.

The joined hands moved down your body, the combined heat making your arch towards them. It excited more than you expected, and you were already wondering where the night would go next.

A soft gasp left you when the familiar feel of Jace’s palm cupped your mound, the slight roughness making your roll your hips again. Jace glanced at Aegon, the elder waiting for approval before he did what he had planned.

“Watch what I do, then copy when it is your turn.”

Aegon gently dipped a single digit passed your folds and you could barely contain the moan, the roll of your eyes at the feeling. His fingers were a little thicker than Jace’s, rougher too. He had not removed his rings either, the cool metal sending a shiver down your spine.

“Relax, I will go slow, then your husband will take over.”

You nodded, a faint whimper leaving you as Aegon pushed deeper. His finger soon hitting the sweet spot deep inside and curling over it again and again. Jace watched intently. He had used his fingers on your before, but what intrigued him was just how Aegon moved. His palm flat against your pearl, adding friction as his finger moved in and out.

Aegon kept his eyes on you, watching for signs any signs of discomfort. When he saw only pleasure, he slowly slid another finger inside, smirking as your back arched and you sighed out a moan. Your slick already coated his fingers and part of him knew he should pull back and let Jace bring you to your peak, but the selfish side wanted to feel it for himself. His own wife had told him to, in her words, ‘do whatever it took to please’ and he was prepared to do just that.

He sped up his rhythm, your moans rising in volume to match the speed of his fingers and Jace could only watch in awe as you came, and came hard, around Aegon’s fingers. But when he did not stop, your hand reached out and grasped Aegon’s wrist to slow him down.

You were panting, unable to form words but Aegon did as you bid as slowed until he stopped.

“Your wife is quite lucky, uncle…” you breathed out, a small smile on your lips as Aegon chuckled.

“Your turn, nephew,” Aegon offered, turning to Jace and guiding his hand to the position he had just been in himself.

Aegon kept hold of his wrist until he was happy with how Jace’s hand was settled against you. The elder knew he would need verbal instruction and the words once said to him were all he could think to say.

“My best advice will always be, to listen. If she moans and pulls you close, keep going.”

Jace nodded, holding your gaze as he began to move his fingers in and out of you. Already sensitive from your previous peak, you were quickly panting Jace’s name as he brought you back up towards the edge of pleasure.

“Oh…Jace…keep going please…”

Your back was arching already and Jace made sure to remember Aegon’s words as he listened to your words and kept his pace, leaning forward to press his lips against yours. You welcomed his kiss, tangling your hands back into his hair and letting him swallow your moans.

Aegon could barely contain his own arousal, watching the way your skin flushed pink, how Jace’s arm flexed as he thrust his fingers harder and harder. His own hand not shy as he palmed himself over the fabric of his clothes, matching Jace’s rhythm just enough to have his cock twitching but not to make himself come. He was a man of varied tastes, even married, but even he did not expect to quite enjoy himself much.

“Have you licked her before, nephew? Let yourself taste her?”

Jace did not need to look at Aegon to know he was aroused, the rough tone of his voice enough to betray him. Jace nodded, keeping the rhythm of his hand as steady as he could.

“Good, add your tongue while your fingers stay inside.”

When Jace hesitated, Aegon moved to sit beside his nephew again. Urging Jace to tilt his palm away from your skin but to keep his fingers buried inside.

“Keep your fingers moving and watch.”

Aegon leaned down, his thumb spreading your folds slightly and exposing the swollen flesh of your pearl to his waiting tongue. He was gentle, soft licks of the tip of his tongue in the same rhythm as Jace’s fingers. Your moans increased in volume again, torn between incoherence and chants of Jace’s name.

But your hand soon laced in Aegon’s hair, keeping him close as he groaned at the feel of your fingers against his scalp. Jace could feel your walls clench around his fingers, and he wanted nothing more than to taste you himself. Aegon had you peaking again and as he pulled away, he put a hand to Jace’s neck and pushed him down to continue where he had left off.

The overstimulation was bordering on too much. But the second Jace’s tongue swiped over your pearl, you had your thighs spread to welcome him.

“Such beautiful sounds you make, niece. Do you not agree, nephew?”

Aegon chuckled as both of you moaned in response to his praise. The entire scene was the most depravity he had experienced for a while on balance, and he was not about to let it end.

Your hands were tight in Jace’s hair as you peaked again, your thighs closing around your husband’s head. Aegon was quick to hold them open, letting Jace lap up everything you gave him without interruption.

“Please…please…” Your voice was soft as you tried to push Jace away, the sensations too much now.

Aegon’s hands massaged your thighs as Jace sat up, both men looking at you with an intensity that had your stomach tightening with desire.

“Now a question for you, sweet one, have you ever ridden your husband?”

It was Jace’s turn to blush now. It was something that had been talked about between you, different positions that supposedly added to pleasure. But nothing had ever come of it.

“No, we have talked but…” Your breath was still too heavy to speak, four peaks and counting almost exhausting you.

Before tonight, Jace would be able to at best pull two peaks from your body. This was more pleasure than you had ever felt.

Aegon let out a disapproving hum. His lips curled into a smirk.

“Hmm, that will not do. There is nothing more satisfying than having your woman ride you like her dragon…”

With shaky limbs, you pushed yourself to sitting, watching as Jace laid back and made quick work of the rest of his clothing. It did not surprise you that Aegon did the same. Nothing was going to surprise you anymore, you wagered.

Aegon helped you straddle Jace, his grip on your hips gentle as he settled himself directly behind you. Your back against his soft chest and his hands resting on your hips.

“Take your time…” Aegon cooed, taking a little control as one hand reached around your front.

Jace sat up sharply as he felt Aegon’s hand grip his cock, the feeling exciting him a little more than he anticipated combined with the heat of your core hovering over him. Aegon was gentle, lining the younger prince’s cock up with your entrance. His other hand began to urge you to sink down, his grip a little tighter as you slowly took Jace down to his base.

Your head fell back on Aegon’s shoulder without thinking, Aegon’s other hand soon releasing Jace’s cock and returning to your hips. He gave you time to adjust, letting your body rest back against him.

“Put your hands over mine,” Aegon ordered softly, and Jace complied quickly.

Aegon moved you gently into a steady rhythm, knowing the angle would be a lot to take for the first time. He helped you roll your hips slowly, keeping you steady against his chest.

He could not resist pressing kisses to your shoulder, his own cock strained against your back.

Jace groaned at each roll of your hips, his cock already twitching in both anticipation and the sweet friction of your flesh against his. But he wanted more, he needed more. Slow and gentle was not what he had planned for tonight.

His eyes met Aegon’s, and the two men came to a silent agreement. The time for slow and gentle was done.

“Seems your husband wants something more, my darling, if you are willing?” Aegon whispered against your neck, and you could only moan in response.

Aegon began to roll your hips faster, almost bouncing you up and down on Jace’s cock. He continued to grip on to you, his lips a little more forceful on your neck and shoulders as you began to move of your own accord. Aegon made to pull away, but you surprised him by holding on to his arm and keeping him close.

Jace’s grip tightened as his release tightened in his stomach, his body tense as he helped your hips move up and down.

“I told you it felt good, did I not?” Aegon chuckled, his hands moving from your hips to your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh in his hands and revelling in the moan of his name that you finally released.

You subconsciously angled your hips, your body working on instinct to add the much-needed friction to your pearl as you let the pleasure take over you. Your hips soon losing rhythm as your release quickly found you. Your moans interspersed with chants of both men’s names as your slick coated Jace’s cock and the coarse hairs at his base.

“Gods…yes…” you sighed out as Jace began to slam his hips up into you.

Aegon added quickly to the stimulation with his fingers circling your swollen nub as you hurried towards another peak. You had lost count by now, the combination of overstimulation and the need for more pleasure had your mind a haze of incoherent thought. You felt Aegon’s other hand leave you and before disappointment could find you, you felt the movement of what you could only assume was him tugging furiously at his own cock.

Your hands rested on Jace’s chest, your husband slamming his hips as best he could up into your waiting core, chasing his pleasure with grunts and moans that you could not ever remember hearing from him before.

Jace came with a strained moan, holding your body down tight against his as you felt the warmth of his seed coat your walls. Soon, more warmth found your back and rear as Aegon quickly followed suit.

The three of you were silent as you let the highs wash over you. Yet none of you felt awkward or uncomfortable. The sheer exhaustion the only thing any of you felt.

Jace was the first to speak.

“Thank you, Aegon…” he whispered, and the elder only hummed in response.

Jace tugged you down to rest against his chest, letting his softening cock slip from your folds and rest between you.

Aegon slipped from the bed, grabbing two damp cloths, one for you and Jace and one for himself. He stood by the bed, cleaning his cock as Jace set about cleaning himself and you up.

Your head remained nestled against Jace’s chest; your breath finally slowed enough to speak. The two men locked eyes, a mutual sense of gratitude and understanding settling between them.

The elder smirked, tossing his cloth to the side.

“Should you need more lessons, nephew, you know where to find me. And I am sure I could even convince my wife to join us…” His tone seemed to be in jest, but the both of you knew he was serious.

And you both had to admit, the offer was not as off putting as it probably should have been. Aegon dressed himself and made for the door, looking back and bidding the pair of you goodnight. Maybe one day he would tell Jace where his lessons had come from.

But now was not the time.

Tags: (all the Jace, Aegon and combination girlies I can remember!)

@legitalicat @thenameswinter99 @elaratyrell

@khaleesihel @milked-by-Aegon @connorsui

@sylasthegrim @anjelicawrites @arcielee

@saintaegon @bucknastysbabe @tumblin-theworldaway

if i forgot anyone i'm sorry!!! or if you want tagging in the future let me know!

[theodorenottwhore]

Came just looking at him

[theodorenottwhore]

The Blood is Rare

Summary: Aemond has always loathed his niece, and the feeling is very much mutual | Words: 3.3k | Warnings below the cut!

Warnings: a lot of talk of illegitimacy, hatefucking, dubcon, choking, slight knife play, biting, bitta blood, incest (character is described with strong features), p in v sex, baby trapping?

There was no plate at his spot at the table. No knife to tempt him. He would not break bread with those he could not trust.

Like an animal atop high ground, he sits rigid at the head of the table, on the outside unnervingly calm. But he watches with a keen eye the prey that sits at the other end.

She shares many features with her mother. His whore-sister. Her stubbornness, her determined gaze and the nervous twisting of the rings on each of her fingers into the bargain. 

Had she not the dark brown, near-black shade of waved hair atop her head and bright, clear blue eyes of the former Commander of the City Watch, his niece and his sister would look nearly identical.

Unfortunately, they both shared his hatred for them as well.

He loathed the idea of them all. The birth of one mere brown-haired bastard was enough, and yet there were three of them, sat together in unification, as if to put up defences against the opposite side of the table, dotted with the moonlight-silver of Alicent Hightower’s children.

He smirked at the thought that she came mere hours after Jace. That she was unplanned. Unwanted. And yet here she existed, sitting with her eyes fixed on a flickering candle, trying to drown out the laughs, smiles and the oddity that was all of them all gathered together, enjoying one another’s company.

He knew as well as she did. It was the only thing they had in common. That they could see through this charade.

Aemond wondered if she had always seen it. Understood it. The strife that would happen between them. Perhaps she was a dreamer and could envisage the future before it had even happened.

She was a melancholic, hateful little thing. Born with fire and fury.

He supposed if anything, she was still the daughter of a Targaryen.

Aemond swore she was a witch of sorts. For she must have felt his gaze on her, and her clear eyes were illuminated by the dancing flame as they met him. Her expression unchanged.

His smirk grew that they felt the same about each other.

He was the cunt son of Alicent Hightower.

And she was the Strong bastard of his whore-sister.

Not breaking eye contact, she raised her chin, looking down at him over her nose, huffing as she turned away to sip from the cup on her small, delicate fingers.

Stuck up cunt.

The atmosphere shifted considerably as Viserys groaned, a frail hand raised to the injured portion of his face, to which Aemond felt a sick sense of delight. The guards swiftly carried him away by each corner of his chair.

And the gap between Rhaenyra and Alicent seemed to push each side away further. Irreparably so.

His niece did not appreciate his tribute to her and her brothers.

Throughout the evening, she had said few words apart from mumbled whispers to Daemon on her right and Luke on her left. But when Aemond stood to speak, he revelled in her undivided attention. In those angry eyes, he saw not only a loathing for him, but a loathing at the truth of what she was.

A loathing that he was right, and she knew it.

She seemed almost as disappointed as her mother when Jace struck him weakly.

And before Daemon could place himself between the warring factions of their family, he watched the Strong Princess march angrily away, her skirts in her hands, flashing a stern glare before she left.

Her eyes were all he could think about, with her face anchored in the firm grip of his fingers.

He thought she was so small and fragile, that he could just squeeze and break her little jaw, her bones clattering between his fingers like pebbles. And yet she still looked at him with such fire, that only one of Targaryen blood would be able to throw.

She looked at him like he was the most loathsome creature she had ever seen.

The passageway Aemond had her cornered into was stifling and suffocating, forcing them to breathe the same humid air in anger. He saw her face redden where he had her in his grasp, her glossy lips slightly parted to breathe.

“I will extend you the courtesy of assuming there is a very good reason why you have your hands on me like this, Uncle.”

He almost wants to laugh right in her face, despite what she said not meaning to be funny. She is so frail, and yet roars so loudly.

“There is.”

Her jaw muscles tighten in frustration, shuffling backwards though there is nowhere to go.

“Then, I dare say your reason will not be good enough.”

Aemond allows his gaze to roam over her face. Up close, she really and truly is the picture of her mother, with her father's unfortunate features to her disadvantage in her colouring.

“I merely wished to see the colour of your eyes, mandianna.”

“To make some cruel jape no less, I am sure.”

He grins at the way she takes a sharp breath when he tugs her face towards him slightly. And he swears he sees the pupils within the clear blue of her eyes widen as he does, and wonders if he is having the same effect swelling at the forbidden place between her thighs.

“You wound me, sweet niece. A man cannot simply appreciate the beauty of a woman? Does there always have to be some cruel intent?”

“With you, there must be.”

He somewhat loosens his grip on her face, fingers trailing down her neck, the glint of her earrings catching his eye. She visibly shivers at his touch there. 

The most venomous expression sits on her face, and she does not miss a beat. Too clever and witty for her own good.

“Do not insult my intelligence, Uncle. I know what depraved thoughts bat around inside your head, and they are not original. A family trait perhaps.”

He hums, more amused than curious, but perhaps with a smattering of both, “And what of you?”

Her perfect little lips part to speak before his thumb trails down the column of her throat, long fingers wrapped around her neck to her nape. The threat of what he could do making her go quiet.

“What depraved thoughts bat around in your head, sweet niece?”

Silence wraps around them like a rope, tightening with the fibres cracking against their skin. Hot and suffocating all at once. And all Aemond can hear is the steady rhythm of her breathing, his eye wandering down to the necklace perched on her chest as her lungs erratically suck in air.

“It is treason to question my virtue.”

She swallows as his thumb presses on the centre of her throat, as if testing if she is indeed real.

“It may be treason to question your virtue, but it is not treason to question your honesty,” he replies coolly. Aemond can feel her pulse fluttering beneath her skin, the barely-contained rage on her face hidden only by a blanket of courtesy, “a maiden does not allow herself to be alone like this with another man.”

Aemond found himself, a man who had sparred with Ser Criston Cole for a large portion of his life, a man who as a child had claimed the largest dragon in the world and a man who had dealt with the burning pain of losing his eye, and the shame that he carried alongside it, was shocked into brief silence when his niece’s small, delicate palm echoed off his cheek.

It was not the force of it that stunned him so, but rather the shock that she had chosen to do it, with his hand around her neck and his frame blocking her escape.

The little dragon had felt threatened and given him a warning clip.

Aemond felt the warmth bloom on his cheek and smirked. She had slapped him on his bad side, where she knew it would sting the most. For a split second, white, hot pain nipped at the temples of his head as he turned back to face her, and saw that look on her face.

That she knew she’d made a mistake, but was too angry or proud to admit it. 

Or perhaps she was both.

Excitement wriggled and rolled in his stomach at the whimper that escaped her lips, using the force of his grip around her tiny throat to force her back, muscles and bones rolling against the stone walls where she was trapped, and those clear, curious eyes darting back at him with distaste. And he was pleased to see, a sprinkling of horror and panic.

“That was a mistake,” he mused, pressing himself closer to her, his hand firm around her throat despite her own attempting to pry them off him. His other hand reached down, shifting her up the cold wall, and gathered her heavy skirts in his palm, and rucked them frustratingly up towards her hip.

He revelled in the terror that crossed her face, a smirk winding its way to his sharp features.

“How exhilarating,” he pondered, “to take something that you are not willing to give.”

“I will scream”.

“Then scream. I will say it was you who seduced me,” he bit back, watching her face and expressions that crossed them, “And who will they believe? The King’s second son or the bastard daughter of a whore?”

He could feel her breath against his face, soothing the spot where she had struck him not a moment before. Aemond blinked slowly at the woman in his grip, apparently attempting to decide for herself whether it was worth the fight.

Or perhaps something else.

Aemond grinned, “like mother like daughter.”

And he enjoyed the fire it stoked in her eyes.

“You will let me go-”

He shook her neck in his grip, as if to make her be quiet. And it seemed to shock and scare her, for she closed her eyes to steel herself, “And then what will you do? Run? Scream? Or will you do something stupid enough to give me an excuse to make everything you’ve ever said about me, truth?”

Her jaw tightened looking at him, feeling cornered, but a strange ache between her thighs.

“You threaten me, Uncle?”

His dagger sliced the very air between them, pressing the tip to the column of her throat where his thumb had branded her not moments before, tracing the shape of her skin. His niece froze, her breath trembling and her head pressed to the wall, as if to try and pull herself feebly away from threat. 

This very dagger was an extension of Aemond himself. As if his hand were still touching her but with a pointed edge. And he wondered if he sliced her skin, even just a little, would she bleed like him?

There was something there in her eyes as he looked between them. Her breath came in shallow gasps. And Aemond was willing to bet that deep down, beneath the demure veil she hides herself behind, peeking through, that she is wet and ready for him between her silky thighs.

“You are clever, dear niece,” he all but whispers, trailing the blade down to the neckline of her dress, the rich fabric yielding to it, “but not as clever as you think you are.”

She swallowed thickly as his blade teased the tied bindings to her dress, playing with the double-tied knots as if they were strings of a lute, and he was playing her easily. He plucked one, and then two, watching her face the entire time.

“You believe yourself a proper little Princess, do you not?” he asks, his voice low, almost feline in nature, his face so close to hers she can make out the stitchings of his eyepatch, “hair decorated with gold. Fingers adorned with rubies. Wrapped in lavish dresses.”

She flinched as he flicked his wrist, severing the second to last tie holding two sides of her gown together.

“But pull one little thread, and you unravel -” his tone deepens, forcing her to listen to every little syllable, his gaze boring into hers, “-and all you are…is a wanton, bastard, whore.”

She attempted to push his body away, but his dagger clattered to the floor, holding her easily by her wrists, near-painfully pressing them to the stone wall behind her. It happened so quickly. Lips, teeth and tongue fought as if in battle, and Aemond held her there for him, pressing his rapidly hardening length against her clothed womanhood, rolling his hips against hers to search for that delicious, forbidden friction.

It did not seem to him that she was fighting him, but rather fighting how he made her feel.

Her lips were velvety, moist and soft as his anchored hers apart to taste her, once having a split second’s worth it was never enough. Every little breath and whimper and he wanted to make them louder, make her submit, a part of him intoxicated by her when  her teeth grazed his bottom lip, and bit on him, only for her tongue to soothe the area afterwards.

Aemond thought of what would happen, if he devoured her wholly, pressed so hard against her that it was difficult to fathom where either of them began and ended.

His lips moved along her jaw. She smelled of whatever oils were combed through her hair. Camomile and something sweet perhaps. Quickly his hand left her wrist to ruck her heavy skirts up to her waist, feeling her shiver at the touch he left behind with the brief touch of his fingertips where no man had touched before. 

“Fight back,” Aemond dared, a mere whisper against her neck where he left his bruise-like mark.

He met her gaze, looking into her bright eyes and allowed his grip on her to slowly relax, waiting to see if she would push away. Scream and run, as she had previously promised. And while her jaw was still tense and eyes aflame with hostility, he swore he saw her pupils dilate.

“Just get on with it.”

The surging heat in his stomach distracted him briefly from acting cocky, his fingers fumbling to untie his breeches while keeping her elevated. And it felt as if his body was thinking before his mind when he looked between them to see her hefty skirts bunched at her hip, and one smooth leg on display, pulling his achingly hard cock free and tucking himself between the soft haven between her thighs. 

She could pretend she desired him not all she liked, but when their gazes met in fire and fury, finding that in all of their fighting and struggling she was soaking wet, Aemond pushed against her entrance until she welcomed him, sliding within her tight, choking walls with a low groan batted against her neck.

She whined at both the intrusion and his tight grip on her thigh, one hand elevating it so that he could begin pushing up brutally into her. Shame rose to her cheeks as she closed her eyes tightly, finding the wet smack of their skin rousing that tightness in her belly.

It was both embarrassing and hateful that she found herself enjoying this, and that she let him first of all. 

And all she could see above her when she opened her eyes was him, his lips parted to breath as if he was holding some beastly form of himself back, his hair spilling like rays of moonlight over his shoulders with every thrust into her weeping cunt and the way his lone eye never strayed from her expression, not for a second.

That is until Aemond felt as if not only he wanted to own her shame and her body, but wanted to show it too, and leaned forward to graze his teeth on the skin that was now exposed by the ever loosening shoulders of her dress, and sink his teeth in to mark her.

The sound that came from her was between a grunt and a moan, as his position changed the angle of his hips and the blunt head of his cock sparking pleasure deep inside her.

“Fucking…hate you…” is all she managed, feeling the top of his canine break the skin just slightly. Her voice clung to that flat, stoic hatred, and she hated that it sounded as if she were about to fall apart.

If it were possible, he increased the intensity of his movements, pushing up into her mercilessly and drawing feminine, soft whines from her mouth. Sounds he wasn't even sure before his niece was capable of making.

“I adore your fire, sweet niece,” he muses lowly, tracing her jaw with his lips, “I adore how much you think you hate me.”

She does hate him, she tries to think. But every thought that appears is swiftly batted away by the incessant rhythm of his cock pistoning in and out of her, the depraved sounds betraying how she truly feels. An internal war Aemond can clearly see.

“Do you like this? Do you like how much I hate you? How much I want to hurt you?”

Yes.

A thought rung in her mind that she wanted him to hurt her more, so that she could just feel something from him aside from the way he stretched her walls around him so deliciously.

The soreness of his girth is something she had not expected to be a problem, a lapse of thought that she will no doubt be paying for the next morning.

But this, this was a core lapse of morals, surely. Allowing him to do this to her.

His fingers dug into the flesh of her thigh, as if pulling her to meet his cock halfway, feeling the way his body shuddered at the closeness of completion evident on his face.

Aemond grinned wolfishly, “You like this. We both know it.”

He thrusted into her so forcefully that she had no choice but to hold onto him, clinging to his leather-clad shoulder tightly when he met her fleshy end, her insides involuntarily squeezing around him in both pain and pleasure.

His hand came to her neck, clamping down experimentally on her windpipe, and groaning deeply at the way her cunt sucked him in as he did. Forcing her chin up so those traitorous blue eyes met his, he grinned.

Hateful little cunt.

Her peak crept up her spine first, feeling as if the sensation was melting her muscles where they sat inside her body. And then her lips parted in a soundless scream, pitifully moving her hips towards his to encourage the feeling to crest until it rushed out of her with a feeble whine, “uncle…”

Not only was the feeling of her quivering, velvety walls enough to convince him, but the way she called him that while he was so deep inside her, threatening for relief, was so erotic it did not feel depraved in the slightest.

But nothing was better than that wide-eyed, colourful expression of panic, distaste, hate and anxiety when he deliberately planted his seed inside of her. Aemond was sure there was no better feeling, bad intentions or no, her blood felt good on him, his teeth and cock alike.

All he could imagine was what dynasty could be created from such a house of revulsion. To watch this hateful little creature swell with his child, a true Targaryen. Only to put on the same stoic, flat expression which he knew was untrue when he'd fuck her again, and again, and again.

What flame flickered under that expression of hers, he wondered. What stone was hidden in the centre of her peachy, soft exterior. A heart, perhaps.

She didn't have to like it, this dance between them. But when he put her down and watched his spend trickle down her thighs, he would have her come to love it.

She existed for this. Whatever it was. He was sure of that.

“Well, little dragon,” he whispered, “the bastard daughter of a whore, with another growing within her?”

She swallowed around his hand as he tugged her face closer to his.

“Or burn with me.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch@castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy

[theodorenottwhore]

The Bonds of Blood (Aegon Targaryen II x Reader) Dark Content

Summary: Aegon visits Aemond's wife at night.

Warnings: very dark fic, noncon/dubcon, somnophilia, slight stalking, envy, descriptive smut, blackmail, and trickery. adults only.

You've been married to Aemond for three lunar cycles now. He had shown glimpses of kindness in his own way… when he was present. Yet, to call him merely "kind" felt too generous—he merely existed. He was passive, seemingly disengaged. You endeavored to spark his interest. You inquired about his dragon and extended offers to share books with him. Nevertheless, the moments spent together felt devoid of life. Even amidst conversation, the emptiness hung heavy in the air.

Passion was absent, and intimate moments were few and far between, lacking any semblance of desire. His gaze scarcely met yours, and his departures were swift. The only instances when Aemond displayed any semblance of spousal behavior were in the presence of his elder brother. It seemed as though Aemond harbored a tinge of jealousy towards Aegon, perhaps protective of you from his brother's attention. Despite Aegon being among the few at court who showed genuine interest in you, Aemond repeatedly cautioned his brother to steer clear of his wife. Nonetheless, Aegon's presence always found its way back to you, defying Aemond's warnings.

At times, you found yourself pondering the possibilities of a different marriage, yet you endeavored to remain grateful that your husband was not cruel or violent. Despite this, the weight of duty pressed heavily upon you. Three moons had passed, and still, your womb remained empty, testing the limits of your hope. This was of course until the night you woke up.

As your eyes begun to flutter you first noticed the pressure on your body. The rhythmic creaking of the bed caught your attention, though initially, you were uncertain of its cause. This was until you could feel him, inside of you. He was engulfed in you, your tight pussy clinging around him. Aching for a sensation that he, your husband, had not provided you with this moon. A moan had parted from your lips, remaining in your throat as you pushed yourself up slightly.

"A-Aemond?" You questioned; a hand quickly pushed down on your back, holding you down against the bed. Your body obeyed, though your lips continued to spill the sweet sounds of desire.

There was a feeling inside of you. It was unfamiliar, foreign. A tightening deep within your womanhood that clung around your husbands length.

"A-Aemond, I-I-"You did not even know how to form words to explain what was happening, however, his hand hard against your back his length continued. Hard, smashing into you as you begun to spasm around him. Your first release would consume you- It made sounds that never left your lips bounce on the stone walls of the room causing him to push your face down into the bed to silence you. His trust quickened and soon you could feel him fill you.

This feeling was familiar, the other was not. You could feel his seed, sticky and thick, as he fucked every last drop into you. His trust becoming lazy as he kept you pushed down on the bed. He stayed there like that and while you wanted to question him you could not move. When he did pull himself from you he left the room before you could even fully turn around. Leaving you to sleep, sticky, and unaware of what your husband's brother had just done to you.

For you had thought that your husband had come to your room, late at night, to finally fulfil his desires . . . or his duty. Regardless you were finally happy to be fulfilling yours.

Aegon would come to you when you were asleep each day that week. He pushed you down on the mattress, face down, and always left without saying a word.

Tonight was no exception for Aegon. He had managed to slip into your room undetected, pausing for a moment at the foot of the bed. As you slumbered, as you often did, he couldn't help but notice how your features seemed almost angelic in the moonlight, reminiscent of a painting he had once seen of the Mother. Aegon's eyes were fixated on your chest, watching your breast as they rose and fell with your breathing. What he would give to fuck you in the day light. Aegon crept onto the bed, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he deftly peeled away the blankets. Your legs were apart, waiting for him, he was certain.

Aegon normally flipped you over but tonight was different. He could not resist, for his hands carefully removed your undergarments. He brought them to his face and took an inhale of your sweet scent. His cock had become rock hard, stirring in his trousers as he brought them down. He did not wat a moment longer, for he soon pushed down on your thighs and slid himself inside of you. Even after nights of stuffing himself inside of you, your cunt was deliciously tight. Aegon begun to thrust into you, concerned about his own pleasure.

Your body became tense with him inside you, he watched as your face contorted; soft sounds falling from your lips as he thrusted into you.

The sensation was no longer unfamiliar. As you stirred from your slumber, you found yourself beginning to embrace the feeling. Yet, as your eyelids fluttered open, you gazed upward. For the first time since your husband had started visiting you at this late hour, you were able to meet his gaze. However, now eye to eye, you were able to see that this was not your husband. It was Aegon who had welcomed himself into your body, hands gripping on your waist as he spit you on his cock, grunting into you, and filling you with his seed each night.

"A-Aegon!" You asked in an out rage, a smile creeping on his lips as he placed his hand over your mouth.

"Shh-" He ordered as he started to thrust into you at an accelerated rate. Without mercy. You were tightening around him, involuntarily. You were trying to fight off the feeling of your own release; tears had been pooling in the corners of your eyes as you whimpered for mercy.

There was no mercy here.

Aegon knew what you were doing and continued until you spasmed around him causing him to hum. "Good Girl." He cooed to you, taking his fingers and now shoving them into your mouth. Looking at you, your hole full of his cock and another full of his fingers. "Fucking look at you, getting fucked by your husbands brother. You whore." Aegon said in a grunt as he continued his speed, slowing down slightly to savor this moment.

"You love this, don't you?" Aegon asked, his fingers pushing down on your tongue, causing you to gag on his fingers. You could not answer, you didn't have to. The slickness between your legs said more than any defense you would have given.

"Ah, Gods- I'm close. It's so hard to last inside you." Aegon spoke in a grunt as he continued to fuck you teasingly slow. "Aemond doesn't know what he's missing." He continued on.

Aegon would pick up his speed, unable to hold off any longer as he soon tense his body, his cock spasming inside of you. "Fuck- fucking milk me you whore." Aegon says as he fills you, ensuring that not a drop of his seed is leaking out of you, his free hand pushing down on your thigh so you have no option but to take it. He soon pulls his finger from your mouth and slowly unsheathes his cock from within you.

Aegon turns over to you and without a moment hesitation informs you, "You'll have to fuck Aemond here soon, convince him that he actually managed to get you pregnant."

[theodorenottwhore]

A brother's duty. // Husband!Aegon ii Targaryen x Wife!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: Aegon seemed to have noticed how much his younger brother, Aemond, fancies you, as a self proclaimed caring older brother, he decides to fulfill that role by giving Aemond what he wants, which is you.

WARNINGS: afab!fem!reader, dubious consent, threesome, m/m/f, dacryphilia, rough sex, manhandling, slight humiliation, degrading, double penetration, mentions of infidelity (aegon visiting brothels), slight misogyny, breeding kink, tiddy sucking, oral (f. receiving, m. receiving), pussy drunk aemond, lactation kink, cum eating, anal sex, lmk if I missed any! + not proofread.

WC: 4.7k

A/N: the anal sex in this isn't "realistic" aka no prior preparation so please don't come at me and go ''that isn't how anal sex works 😡😡😡 you have to do blah blah blah'' ik but this is just a work of fiction so pls just enjoy it // divider credits: @cafekitsune

“Aemond, do you perhaps fancy my wife?” Aegon tilts his head to the side, questioning his brother as they sit together in the library, quietly reading, of course, until the short pale haired man decided to break the silence.

“Brother, this is no place for such discussions.” Aemond tries dodging the question, but Aegon simply rolls his eyes grunting loudly in displeasure, “Just answer the question.” Aegon says annoyed and Aemond pursues his lip, lost deep in thought.

“What if I say ‘yes’?” Aemond asks, “Then I'd have your head for that.” Aegon smiles which makes Aemond shift uncomfortably in his seat, “Come on! I was kidding, do you really think I'd kill my own blood-related brother over a woman?” Aegon laughs loudly and Aemond sighs but he furrows his brows, “She is your wife.” Aemond states sternly, but Aegon shrugs, “And you are my brother.” He replies.

Aemond lets out another heavy sigh, hoping that he'd escape this situation he'd somehow gotten into, “So?” Aegon pushes further, poking at Aemond to answer the question and Aemond hums in irritance before being fed up and answering Aegon's question. “Yes, I do fancy your wife.” He admits, slightly ashamed.

Aemond was a man of the faith, believing in the faith of the seven, and according to the scripture, desiring a woman is a carnal sin, diabolical if she's a married woman, abysmal if she's your own brother's wife.

But Aemond couldn't help it, it's as if though the gods were testing him, not only were you pleasant on the eye but you were also very polite and had the same interests as him, and most probably the only woman — besides his sister — who was not disgusted after seeing his injury.

He knew he had to stop developing an interest towards you once he found out that you were being married to Aegon, but for some inexplicable reason; that only made him want you more, perhaps it was the label of you being ‘forbidden’ that enticed him further, making him yearn to get the taste of the forbidden fruit more than ever.

How he had wished that it was him instead, the one getting married to you, he wished it was he who fucked you, he wished it was him who got you pregnant, he wished it was his babe you waddled all around the red keep with, he wished it was his child that you had given birth to.

But those were nothing more than just wishes, wishes that would never come true, unless a miracle happens.

“That wasn't hard now was it?” Aegon's voice snaps Aemond out of his train of thoughts and Aemond simply hums, “Why did you ask such a question?” Aemond inquires curiously and Aegon smirks at him, “I may not be sober most of the time but the way you stare at her doesn't go unnoticed, your desire burns deep for her doesn't it? I've especially taken note of it when she was pregnant with my child, your eye never left her womb.” He answers and Aemond rolls his eye.

The atmosphere is filled with silence once again as Aemond continues to silently read his book.

“I would've let you fuck her if you had asked me to.” that statement which left Aegon's mouth made Aemond choke on his spit as he stared at him wide eyed, shocked at what he had just said, “Pardon?” Aemond gazes at Aegon confusedly, and Aegon gets a thrill out of this, watching his brother be flustered.

“I said what I said, you could've just told me so, you're my brother Aemond, how do you think I will ever turn any of your requests down?” Aegon says it so casually, as if he was giving an item that belonged to him which Aemond had always wanted so badly, except you weren't an item or an object.

Aemond remains silent, unable to talk because of how baffled he was, but Aegon pressed on, “Don't you wanna feel her cunt around your cock?” This makes Aemond slam his book down and get up, and Aegon raises his hands in surrender, “It was merely an offer, I wouldn't mind sharing her with you, we've shared whores before.” Aegon tries justifying his reasoning and Aemond scoffs, “But she is no whore, she is your wife, you should treat her with respect.” he replies agitated.

“Enough with the sterness, reply plainly, do you want to fuck her or no? I won't ever bring it up ever again if you say no, we'll pretend we never had this conversation.” Aegon sighs before raising his eyebrow.

Aemond swallows thickly, should he take this chance? He always yearned for you so badly, it's like the opportunity presented itself; he could seize it, but he was in a dilemma, not wanting you to face such disrespect, your self respect will be obliterated to pieces, you'd be drowning in self shame.

You were a very dignified lady, a woman who carried herself confidently no matter what, this is why you weren't even affected when Aegon still visited the brothels. As long as the word didn't get out, you were fine with it. You simply did your duty as a wife and a mother. He couldn't imagine you allowing him to fuck you and ruin your honour.

“Decide fast brother, I have to leave soon, it's been a while since I laid with my wife, the maesters had told me to give her a break for a minimum of six weeks, yet eight weeks have passed, my cock craves her cunt so desperately.” Aegon speaks explicitly, and Aemond's breath hitches in his throat, imagining what your cunt would be like. “Then why do you visit the brothels if you seem to like her so much?” He questions, trying to change topics, “That's cause she can't satiate my depravities, otherwise I wouldn't even be visiting those wenches anymore.” Aegon talks as though it was a minor inconvenience.

“Either way, decide quickly.” Aegon urges and Aemond swallows.

He opens his mouths to reject it, but for some odd reasons his mind forms a explicit thought of burying his cock inside your cunt which causes his cock to stir slightly, the blood flowing to it at the mere thought of fucking you.

‘No Aemond, she is your sister in law, your brother's wife, you cannot let this desire succumb you.’

‘But didn't you want this for a long time? Imagine how her cunt would weep when you'd shove your cock into it hm? Her breasts bouncing up and down while you thrust into her.’

He swallows thickly, those internal arguments happening in the span of seconds before he has had enough and made up his mind.

“Yes, I want to fuck her.”

The babe in your arms cooed as you rocked him gently — caressing his chubby cheeks with your thumb as he slowly fell asleep due to your movements, “He's cute isn't he?” You ask the servant that was in charge of him and she nodded, smiling at you.

“Yes princess, the more he grows, the more he resembles his father, Prince Aegon.” She gives her commentary and you give her a small smile and slightly nod your head. The babe finally closes its eyes, going into slumber and you chuckle at his cuteness, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead, just then, the door the nursery opens which reveals ser criston cole.

You were confused as to why the kingsguard was here himself, “Prince Aegon has sent me in search for you, he is calling you to his chambers.” Those words were enough to clarify the situation. He wanted to lay with you, “I'll be there in a minute.” you reply and he nods, you give the babe to the servant before smoothening your dress, and leaving the nursery.

You reach your martial chambers quickly, you turn around to thank Cole and dismiss him, you then open the door to the chambers and shut them just as quickly, taking a deep breath before turning around and venturing deeper into the room.

You spot Aegon sitting in his chair, but what was odd was that he was accompanied by Aemond, who you've meet occasionally and had nothing but a positive opinion on about, you were confused on what he was doing here.

Maybe Aegon did not want to lay with you? Maybe Aegon was trying to get closer to his brother for having a bond of a family? You knew how strongly bonded these brothers are, especially since after whatever happened at driftmark, so it wouldn't be weird to assume that Aegon is trying to get you and Aemond to become good friends.

“Ah, wife.” Aegon gets up from his chair, coming over to hug you, and you return it awkwardly, knowing that Aemond is in the same room, Aegon chuckles at your awkwardness. He quickly gets behind you, pushing you forward until you're right in front of Aemond who stares at you from below, all the while Aegon nuzzles his face into your neck.

You're confused not knowing what's happening, “Brother, undo her front laces.” Aegon commands and you furrow your brows immediately, baffled at how Aegon was behaving, perhaps he had drunk too much? You felt bad for Aemond, probably stuck in this unwanted situation, you try to give him an escape route but you are surprised when his warm knuckles graze against your collarbones as his fingers hook underneath your laces, beginning to pull them apart.

You were perplexed by his actions, not knowing what to do, you grip his arm from further undoing the laces but Aegon forcefully pulls your hands back, holding both of them behind you as Aemond pulls off the corset.

You were wearing a dress with no sleeves, but that did not mean you went completely shoulderless, your shift and chemise beneath you acted as the sleeve’s replacement, so when Aemond undoes the laces that were holding your long gown up, it immediately plummets to the floor, leaving you in your chemise.

Aegon nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck from behind, taking in your scent while placing small kisses on your shoulder, still not letting go of your hands, “Darling, I hope you don't mind Aemond joining us today, he had admitted to me that he fancies you, and as his older brother, it is in my responsibility that i take care of my brothers needs.” Aegon coos into your ear and you bite your lip, you are about to respond but you are interrupted by your own gasp when you feel Aemond caress your breasts, squeezing the flesh and playing with them.

“I'm afraid— I don't understand?.” You reply confusedly, staring at Aemond play with the mounds of your breasts, and Aegon chuckles into your ear pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear, “I'm simply allowing him to wet his dick inside your cunt.” Aegon puts it plainly, making you bite your lip in shame; all the while Aemond's hand slowly travels up your thigh, underneath your chemise, before it disappears inside; reaching your core.

You squeal when you feel him pinch your clit before he stroked small circles onto it.

“W-why?” You question, trying to free your hands from Aegon's grip but he doesn't budge, but instead watches with amusement as his brother's hand brings out such reactions from you, you whimper as Aemond's finger travels down your slit and to your opening.

“It's my duty as his older brother.” Aegon replies nonchalantly, Aegon loosens his grip momentarily, changing his grip so he can hold both of your hands in one of his. His free hand lifts your chemise up, as he peeks from over your shoulder to see what his brother's hand was doing to your cunt, he chuckles mockingly when he sees your juices dripping from in between your legs.

“Look at her leaking yeah? Her cunt is literally weeping.” Aegon comments and you clench your eyes shut because of the humiliation you are feeling, your husband is parading you out like a whore for his younger brother, and Aemond— whom you've thought of so highly— is letting this happen while participating in the act.

You gasp when you feel one of Aemond's finger enter you, your walls tightly clamping around his finger which makes him grunt, “Fuck you're squeezing my fingers.” He breathlessly says. Aemond suckles on your neck, biting your sensitive spot which makes you whimper. Aegon finally lets go of your hands and then holds you by your waist before rubbing his cock against your ass.

Aemond's finger trail over the spongy spot inside of you, that makes you let out a moan and he takes note of this and presses against that area that causes you to tremble in pleasure, your hands fly up to his shoulders to balance yourself, though you knew you wouldn't fall, Aegon was holding from behind after all.

You were trapped between these two men, both of them peppering kisses on the opposite sides of your neck making you feel dizzy so you rest your head on Aegon’s shoulder, revealing more of your neck for the men to claim.

Aemond adds another finger inside you, stretching you out whilst providing you pleasure, his fingers skillfully grazing your spongy spot, constantly hitting it with precision.

You didn't even feel your peak approaching; it was ripped out of you so suddenly, you let out a loud moan of Aemond's name, clenching onto his shoulders extremely tightly, tears streaming down your cheeks at the intensity of your peak. Aegon's warm tongue glides over your face, collecting your tears on his tongue and licking at them.

You feel Aemond pull his fingers out of you, and you watch with hooded eyes as he puts them in his mouth, licking your essence up before he hums in delight, before pressing a kiss to your lips, making you taste yourself.

You are surprised when you are pulled away from him by Aegon, he lifts you up hurriedly and carries you over to the bed before harshly throwing you on it, he is quick to undress, taking off his breeches and undergarments, getting completely naked and harshly grabs your ankle, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

His hands rip apart your chemise in a hurry, before he forcefully spreads apart your legs and positions himself in between, he gives you no warning before roughly shoving himself inside you, that make you slightly shriek in pain but eventually the pain fades, he moves in and out of you fast paced, ramming into your hole with such an intensity that it has you seeing stars.

“Are you jealous?” Aemond taunts Aegon and Aegon rolls his eyes, “No, I just couldn't hold back anymore, I've missed her cunt so much.” He replies to the taunt and Aemond chuckles, undoing his own breeches, freeing his cock from its confines. “Can I use her mouth?” He asks Aegon and Aegon grunts, “Do whatever the fuck you want with her.” he thrusts brutally into you.

You feel the space next to your head sink and you look over slightly only to be face to face with Aemond's cock, it forms a shadow over your face under the candle lights, you gasp when you see it physically throb. You've never seen that before.

He uses that slight opening as a chance, hooking his thumb in your mouth and spreading your mouth open before pushing his cock inside your mouth, you are taken aback by this and try to pull away but Aemond holds your head in place before shoving himself inside your mouth further, his tip caresses the back of your throat, which makes you gag on his cock, but that only further provides additional pleasure as he groans.

“Seven hells—” Aemond grumbles, his hand hold your hand as he thrusts into your mouth, thumb caressing the outline of his cock that forms in your throat when he pushes as the way, your eyes well up with tears and soon you're panting for air that makes you involuntarily suck on his cock, Aegon's thrusts from downwards make your body jolt upwards, taking more of Aemond's cock.

Aemond suddenly pulls out which makes you suck a sharp breath automatically, “Easy there sweetheart.” Aemond coos and you pant heavily staring at him with doe eyes, “I'll shove it once again alright? Breathe— through your nose— fuckkk.” Aemond instructs as he shoves his dick inside your mouth again, but this time you're prepared so you follow his instructions.

You hollow your cheeks which makes him grunt in satisfaction, “Good girl.” Aemond compliments you, which causes your cunt to clench around Aegon's cock, to which he responds by a chuckle, “Guess she liked that brother, she's squeezing the fuck out of me.” Aegon talks to his brother and Aemond hums in response, Aegon's thrusts speed up, that constantly hit your sweet spot, he bends forwards and takes one of your breast in your mouth, suckling on the nipple and soon– beads of white droplets begin to come out, directly into his mouth that makes him suck more harshly, enjoying the taste of your sweet milk.

“She's lactating? Fuck I wanna have a taste.” Aemond moans, noticing how the milk started to drip from the sides of Aegon's mouth.

Aegon's tip constantly caresses your spongy part, which causes something to tighten in your stomach before it eventually snaps, causing you to cry out in ecstasy and choke on Aemond's dick.

The sensation of your throat tightening around his cock makes Aemond finish as well, he shoots his load down your throat which you have no option but to swallow, and soon— Aegon is finishing inside, painting your inner walls white.

He pulls out immediately after, falling forward onto you and positioning you in such a way that he is able to suckle more, Aemond joins him soon after; shuffling and turning down to take your free breast into his mouth.

You couldn't help but whine as the two brothers suckled on each of your breasts, your recent high made you even more susceptible to sensitivity, yet you couldn't help but caress their heads gently, Aemond clamped his teeth down on to your nipple hardly which made you wince; but he later soothed the area with the wetness of his tongue. Aegon on the other hand was more careful to not graze his teeth against your sensitive buds, only using his tongue and swirling it around your swollen bud.

Aemond let's go with a wet pop, cleaning up the milk and sat up straight before tugging you, this displeased Aegon who wasn't done yet, but he had to let go, Aegon watches as Aemond settles in between your legs before he crawls down, by then Aegon had already caught on to what he was doing, and assisted him by holding you against his chest, your back pressed against him tightly, meanwhile you on the other hand; had no idea what Aemond was about to do.

“Aemond what are you— huh? Ahhh!—” You ended up squealing in surprise when you felt him place his wet tongue on your clit— you tried to shut your legs from the embarrassment but Aegon held them open— so you could only watch helplessly as Aemond gave kitten licks to your clit, which undoubtedly made you feel pleasure.

He licked a long stripe from your hole to your clit before fully engulfing it in his mouth, sucking on the flesh as if he's starving, Aegon's cock is already beginning to harden again as he witnessed such a depraved act.

Aemond groaned when he felt Aegon's seed in his mouth — which he sucked out of you — but he didn't let it stop from devouring you, his tongue licked through your folds before he sucked on your clit and let go of it with a pop before repeating the motion all over again, you unknowingly pushed his face further into your cunt, which made him moan knowing how desperate you were for him, the moan caused additional vibrations which sent pleasure through your body in waves.

You rested your head on Aegon's shoulder as you watched Aemond continue his ministrations, Aegon turned your head slightly before he connected his lips with yours and you moaned into the kiss.

The familiar feeling of the tightness began to form in your stomach again and you break the kiss with Aegon and start to hump Aemond's face involuntarily; trying to just desperately reach your high.

“You're such a fucking whore do you know that? You look so desperate humping your face against his face.” Aegon coos meanly into your ear and you whine, staring at him with teary eyes and he smirks meanly, pulling your hair harshly, “Whore.” He degrades you and your bottom lips tremble as you are about to start crying, but you aren't able to when your peak hits you at the same moment, making you moan in pleasure instead.

Aegon mockingly smiles at you, “Here I thought that you were a prim and proper lady, hell— you don't even let me do these things to you, but maybe my judgement was wrong, maybe you're a whore from the silk street disguised as a lady.” He accuses you meanly, you shake your head no at his accusation while trying to calm down from your high.

Aemond doesn't say anything to that, but simply sits up, and shifts positions once again, pulling you off Aegon and onto his lap instead, you cry onto his shoulders and he simply coos at you, he caresses your hair to calm you down, “Goodness brother, you've made her cry.” Aemond sneers at Aegon who just shrugs his shoulders. “I've only stated what I've observed.” He replies and you whimper.

“All of that aside— do you think she can take us both? In one hole.” Aegon speaks before Aemond could come up with a response and you furrow your brows, and Aemond is lost deep in thought, “We'll have to test it out.” Aemond responds and you push back, immediately staring at him wide eyes but Aemond just pecks your lips.

He lays down, taking you along with him, one hand holding you against him while the other is grabbing your hips and sinking you down on his boner, you bite your lip at the delicious stretch, you're in a position where Aegon can clearly see your pussy stretching around Aemond's cock. Aegon straddles Aemond's knees and lines his cock against your entrance and you turn your head back to see what he was doing, his cock bumped with Aemond's before he found a slight opening to shove his cock into the same hole. “Ah—!” You let out a squeal from pain as you feel his tip intruding and stretching you far than you're capable of taking.

Aegon grows frustrated, not being able to enter his cock fully inside you as your walls clamp down, resisting furthermore intrudence, however that only makes Aemond's pleasure elevate as your walls squeeze him tightly.

“Fuck this, I'm taking her from the rear.” Aegon gives up pushing his cock inside you, you gasp when you feel his thumb poking and pushing inside your puckered hole on your behind. You cover your face with your hands ashamed but Aemond pulls them away before crunching upwards to kiss you on the lips.

Aegon collects your wetness that's dripping from your cunt and smears it on your slightly stretched out hole before doing the same with his cock and lining the tip with the entrance and slowly pushing it inside.

“Ahh— Aegon— wait– I don't think— hgh!” You squeal once his fully settles inside you, and you couldn't help but tremble from the burn of the stretch as he slowly started to move, tears streamed down your face when you felt Aemond move too.

You were feeling highly humiliated, how your dignity has now been sullied, though this encounter wouldn't get out; you knew you wouldn't be able to see Aemond in the same light again, you'd always think about this day whenever you'd encounter him, a dirty little secret you'll have to keep hidden from the realm.

You are pulled from your thoughts with a sharp thrust from both of them penetrating you, you couldn't stop it but moans slipped from your mouth like prayers, you gasped and choked while calling out their names, the position; the act; the pleasure and humiliation you were feeling all combined made you feel hot, and to your horror, the pain began to subside leading you to enjoy this act.

You clinged onto Aemond as the brothers both rammed into you at such a fast pace that made you see stars, you clenched your eyes shut at the new sensations they were making you feel, and soon you're moving in rhythm along with them.

“Fuck fuck fuck I'm gonna cum.” Aegon grunts, his thrusts eventually becoming sloppy, “Me too.” You tell him and Aemond takes that as a cue to thrust faster into you, his hips ramming against you, the sound of flesh slapping rapidly fills the room.

Once again, you're blinded by the pleasure that was ripped from you, you came with a loud moan just as simultaneously as Aegon did, he pulled out and came on your back, he couldn't help but watch in awe as his seed dripped down onto your ass cheeks.

Aemond's pace became slow and messy, indicating that he was near too, “I'm gonna cum inside you, get you pregnant alright? This time you'll carry my child, not Aegon's. I'll make sure of it.” He grunts out mindlessly, pressing you down tightly to his chest, and Aegon just snickers. “Only time will tell, Brother.” Aegon replies snarky.

And with that, Aemond finishes inside you, shooting his seed far up into your walls, and you just nod silently, processing his words, his grip loosens after he finishes you fall off him and onto the bed, and soon Aegon collapses tiredly as well.

You hoped silently, that this would be the last of it, and that you'll not have to do this again, though it was enjoyable— it was humiliating, you were not that kind of lady that indulges in such depravity, maybe you'll be able to forget this and move on as if it never happened.

You prayed to the gods desperately.

But the gods are cruel.

Such encounters became frequent, Aegon and Aemond were enjoying it too much to stop, and soon you eventually got used to the routine, yet you couldn't help but feel guilty when you'd go to the sept with Alicent, when she prays that Aemond can find a good match, when she talks about the proposals that came for Aemond to you, unbeknownst to the fact that her son was constantly fucking you and was way too obsessed with you to let go of you and marry another woman.

He'd began fuck you without Aegon being involved and when you told Aegon about it, he simply shrugged furthermore simply allowing him to do so, telling you that it was his duty as a brother to let Aemond have the things he wants, the very same excuse he used during the first time.

“So, what do you think about Floris Baratheon? Do you think she's a good match for you?” Alicents voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you stare at her, who is addressing Aemond, who seemed to be as disinterested as ever.

“She's decent.” He replies shortly before he turns his gaze to you, and you immediately avoid it, staring at Alicent instead who sighs in annoyance, soon; the feeling of stickiness between your legs—which you've tried to ignore— becomes more imminent the longer he stares at you.

And guilt overwhelms you, you didn't know why you were even joining this meeting with Alicent, you –infact– hated it, knowing that moments prior to this, you were fucking Aemond in the secret hallways of the keep.

And that his seed was currently dripping out of you.

— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

[theodorenottwhore]

Playing with Fire (part 4)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader x Aegon II Targaryen

summary: Your wedding approaches along with the bedding ceremony and wedding night. Your husband has a delicious surprise prepared.

warnings: 18+ nsfw, explicit spicy scenes (p in v, all the bases being covered, oral, fingering), do not interact if you don't want spice

word count: 3.7k

note: thanks for being patient, I hope this gives you all the spicy feels!

read more of my work here! 💚

“I cannot believe this day has come,” your mother says, with tears in her eyes as she smoothes the gown you wear. 

It is beautiful, a creamy ivory color made of silks that cling to every curve of your body, the skirts cascading towards the floor.

“Now, my darling,” your mother says, clasping her hands in yours, “there are responsibilities you need to attend to tonight.”

The bedding ceremony. When the lords and ladies who attend the feast tear at the bride and groom, ripping the silks from their bodies like paper from a package. Gooseflesh appears as you think about it.

“The marriage bed is nothing to be afraid of,” your mother assures you, eyes kind and warm. 

You feel conflicted with the different stories you have heard from other ladies losing their maidenheads. 

“Prince Aegon shall be kind to you,” your mother says, stroking your cheek.

Will he? Aegon is many things, but kind you are not sure is one of them. In fact, Aemond had told you as much. 

The wedding ceremony itself is a blur, a whirlwind of silks and smiles as you are carted to the castle sept and presented before Aegon. You feel as though you are in a dream as he places the cloak of House Targaryen on your back. 

Now you suppose you are a dragon as well.

Aegon smiles at you and kisses you sweetly as a prince should when your vows are spoken. His eyes are lustful, his smile predatory. Now he has you in his jaws, your neck stuck between his teeth. The feeling both terrifies and excites you. 

“Congratulations, my lady,” Aemond says, giving you a soft smile later at the feast. 

Your heart flutters hearing his voice. Aemond was rather stoic during the ceremony, keeping off to the side alongside his sister Helaena. You had tried speaking to him after your engagement was announced, but there never seemed to be time. Aemond was an evasive creature, hard to catch like one of Helaena’s butterflies. 

“Aemond,” you breathe him in, “many thanks, my prince.”

You stand beside him in silence for a moment as the feast continues around you. Aemond places his hands behind his back as you take a sip from your cup.

“I must admit, I did not expect to be chosen,” you tell him, warm from the wine. 

“You are an excellent choice,” Aemond insists, causing you to blush. 

“You are too kind, my prince,” you tell him, “your flattery shall go to my head.”

“I should hope so,” Aemond says, causing you to look at him. 

He notices your empty cup, before wrapping his fingers around it, expelling it from your grip. His fingers leave a tingling sensation behind on your own. 

“You are a delightful woman, you should be understanding of that,” he continues, giving the cup to a servant who passes by. 

You bashfully glance toward the floor. Aemond was a kind man, something you felt ashamed to admit you never thought of before meeting him. The tales of the cold prince fluttered throughout the ladies of court just as much as Aegon’s lecherous reputation.

“Are you nervous about your wedding night?” Aemond asks, and you feel yourself blush. 

“Would you believe me if I said no?” you ask and he chuckles.

“You needn’t be afraid, my lady,” Aemond assures you. 

There is a look in his violet eye, as though he is sure of the words he speaks. Without a shadow of a doubt in his mind that he speaks the truth. You wet your lips, looking toward the head table. Aegon is seated, a goblet of wine dangling from his fingers. He has just finished speaking with his mother when his gaze falls on you and Aemond.

Aegon’s eyes are half-lidded, and a lazy smile appears on his face revealing his teeth. A dragon lapping its jaws. His eyes flicker from you to Aemond, before he raises his goblet, as though toasting you both. You can feel your face drain of color. 

You do hope you have not upset him. 

“I suppose I should attend to my husband,” you tell Aemond, who nods in agreement. His gaze flickers about your face, as though attempting to read your thoughts. 

Aegon stands when you reach him, arm lacing around your waist.

“What says, my brother?” Aegon murmurs, placing a kiss below your ear causing you to shiver.

“He wished to share his congratulations,” you inform him, as his hand reaches to stroke your cheek, maneuvering himself so he can continue to kiss your neck.

Something you’ve begun to learn about Aegon is that it is never just one kiss, a trail of them follows. 

“Mhmm,” Aegon seems pleased by your answer, continuing his adoration of your neck, down to your collarbone. 

You feel the color returning to your face, and spot Aemond watching from across the room. So very strange, you think to yourself, to always be passed between the stares of the dragon princes. 

Later that night, the door closes behind Aegon, clicking shut.

Aegon circles you; he is a predator finally cornering his prey. His eyes hungrily indulge in your form that shows through your sheer shift. Your gown had been removed long ago, as lords prepared you for the bedding. 

A chaotic moment it was, to feel tens of hands on you, pulling and tearing at the fabrics of your gowns, pulling the ornaments from your hair. Aegon was stripped as well, Cassandra Baratheon had pushed herself to the front helping herself to tear at the laces of his breeches. 

Your skin feels hot under Aegon’s gaze now as you stand so bare before him, as though his eyes produce dragonfire searing your flesh. 

You wonder if you’ll ever stop feeling this burning for him. 

Aegon walks over to you, only wearing a loose white shirt. He reaches for a cup that lies on the table, taking a quick sip, before holding it out to you. 

You take it from him, mirroring his actions. 

“Are you nervous?” he asks, voice rough with desire. He is clearly holding himself back from ravishing you on the stone floor. 

You feel your cheeks grow warm. This is it, this is truly happening. You find yourself nodding, eyes cast toward the floor. You wish you were not so shy, so embarrassed under his gaze. You know his experience, and you wonder what he expects of you. 

Aegon clicks his tongue, placing a finger underneath your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. 

“There is no need to be,” he assures you, giving you a comforting grin. 

You cannot help but smile back, there is something about Aegon that does that. He melts the fear from your body like freshly fallen snow. He cups your cheek with his hand, bringing your mouth to his. 

The kiss is passionate, he slices your lips open with his tongue before plunging it into your mouth. The feeling of his tongue in your mouth sends a sharp feeling of desire trickling down your navel to the place beneath your small clothes. Aegon’s hands are very busy, the one that guides your face trails down to hold your waist, pressing you against him while the other cups your bottom. 

All the while he is walking you backward, toward the bed. He is very skilled; you cannot help but notice how easy it is for him to guide you, to touch and squeeze you in places that have you gasping against his mouth. 

“Do not be afraid,” Aegon murmurs, “I prepared this evening with only your utmost pleasure in mind.”

As he says this, his fingers find their way underneath your shift, touching you through your small clothes. He lets out a moan at the wetness he finds there, before pushing his fingers past the barrier, stroking them through your silky folds.

You let out a dramatic whine, cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the lewd sound. Aegon merely takes this as encouragement, teasing at your entrance with his finger. 

“I have to get you ready,” he tells you, through his kisses, before pushing a finger into your constricting, wet heat. 

He curls the digit within you, pressing his thumb against the sensitive bud that lies at the top of your folds, causing you to writhe against him at the newfound bliss.

“That’s it,” he says, drinking in your mewls and moans, before slipping a second finger inside of you. 

“Aegon, oh,” you moan against his mouth as he continues to fuck you with his fingers, slowly working you open. He sinks his teeth into your lower lip and something peaks inside of you, causing pleasure to roll across your skin, down your spine, all the way to your toes. 

Your legs wobble, as Aegon leads you toward the bed, tearing your shift over your head, leaving you naked before him. His eyes trail down your figure, truly devouring you as though a man famished. A smile breaks out across his face.

“Lay back, my love,” he instructs, removing the remainder of his clothes as you obey him. 

He climbs on top of you, kissing you again, lips trailing down your neck, over the swell of your breasts. He lavishes the peaks of your breasts with attention, tongue swirling around your nipples. You can feel his cock nudging at your entrance and take a breath. 

“It’s alright,” he tells you, kissing the tip of your nose, “I’m right here with you, bite on me if you need.”

You nod as he begins to push into you, the stretch causing you to gasp. It is much more than his fingers, and you find yourself taking him up on his offer, sinking your teeth into his shoulder.

Aegon whines at this, hips slapping against you. The pain ebbs at that moment, a wave of pleasure rolling through you. 

You make love like that for quite some time, Aegon finding his release, emptying his seed deep within your womb. But he is not a man easily satisfied. Nearly moments after his release, his cock hardens, and he turns you around on your hands and knees to take you as though he is more beast than man. 

You do not mind, the new position sends moans pouring from your mouth as he plows you into the feathered pillows. 

There is a sharp knock on the door, causing your head to snap up. You turn slightly to look behind you at Aegon, panic flashing across your face. His smile is wide as he continues to drill into you so hard your arms shake trying to hold yourself up.

“Enter!” Aegon calls.

“Aegon!” you desperately call, earning a sharp slap on your backside. 

What the seven hells is he doing?

The door is heard opening, and footsteps in the antechamber. Your heart pounds in your chest, but you can’t stop whimpering as Aegon’s cock splits you in two. 

“Come in, come in,” Aegon says, fingers digging into your hips as he thrusts harder, faster. 

Your eyes are wide as you hold up your lolling head, prepared to meet the eyes of some knight who shall surely be utterly horrified at the sight of Prince Aegon ruining his new bride in this animalistic position. 

You instead see Aemond Targaryen.

Shame courses through you, and you feel as though your entire body has ignited in flames. You meet his eye but quickly look away, letting your elbows fall into the feather mattress. Aegon’s strokes slow, but do not stop. 

“Brother,” he says, rather formally, “was there something you needed?”

Aemond is staring at you, watching as you try to hide your face, your body from him. 

“My lady,” Aemond addresses you directly. Always a polite man. Seven hells. 

You do not answer, fingers clutching the sheets of the bed. Perhaps Aegon can fuck you so hard into the mattress you shall disappear altogether. Aegon has different plans. He tangles a hand in your hair, lifting your head, and forcing you to look at Aemond. 

“My brother addressed you, dearest,” Aegon says, “do not be rude.”

A whimper leaves your lips.

“My prince,” you someone managed to say, as Aegon has begun to increase the rhythm of his strokes. 

Aemond nods, slowly walking closer to the bed. You do not know where to look, you wish he would not approach you. Surely whatever he needed could be attained at a different time. 

“Tell me, my lady,” Aegon asks, “do you think me unobservant?”

His fingers dig into your waist, as he snaps forward. Your head is spinning from the pleasure, the embarrassment, the excitement, and the confusion. Surely you are dreaming. 

“What?” you ask, voice a strangled moan. 

“I see the way you look at him,” Aegon says, a matter of factly, “much like how you look at me.”

Aemond is right in front of you now, watching as Aegon plunges himself into you. Your breath comes in pants, sure that Aegon is displeased, that he means to punish you in some way.

“Do you like how my brother fucks you?” Aemond asks, bringing a hand under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

The question stuns you. Tears spring from the corner of your eyes.

“Yes!” you cry out and Aemond hums at your response. 

“I told you Aegon was not usually kind,” Aemond said, letting his thumb stroke over your bottom lip; a shiver rolls through you.  

“She likes it, brother,” Aegon says, snapping his hips against you. 

“I do,” you moan in agreement, as Aegon’s cock massages a spot within you that makes your vision blur and your thighs tremble. 

“That’s it,” Aegon says, bringing his hand towards the apex of your thighs, using your slick arousal to fondle the precious pearl that lies hidden there. 

You release a moan, a tangled mess of both their names. 

“Hear that brother?” Aemond teases, “even with you inside of her she calls for me.”

Aegon yanks you up by your hair, a deliciously painful sensation on your scalp as he drags you flush against him. He remains nestled inside of you, as his lips find your ear. 

“Do you like him better?” Aegon taunts, placing a wet kiss on your neck. You can feel his smile; he is teasing you, taunting you. 

“No..” you moan, “I want…I-”

How can you possibly tell them what you want? What you desire?

“What dear wife?” Aegon says, lazily thrusting up into you, “tell me what you desire and I shall make it so.”

You whimper against him, as he holds your hips guiding them up and down on his thick shaft. 

“I want you both,” you murmur, an embarrassed whisper. 

The brothers are silent for a moment, the sound of soft, wet slapping the only noise in the room despite the small whimpers that leave your mouth. 

“You heard her,” Aegon says, causing your eyes to snap open.

“Say it again,” Aemond demands, still standing at the foot of the bed, watching you intently. 

“I want you both,” you repeat, more confidently this time.  

“Greedy, greedy wife,” Aegon purrs, as his hand curls around your breast. 

He lifts you from his cock, twisting you onto your back before re-entering you, placing one of your legs on his shoulder so he can thrust into you deeper. Your head hangs from the side of the bed, as he pounds into you. 

“What am I to do with such a greedy, lustful wife?” he taunts, placing a kiss on your breast, and stretching your hamstring until the burn is almost unbearable. 

You wonder if this is what it shall be like to be married to a Targaryen, always a constant state of burning. 

“Brother?” he calls, never relenting his strokes, “help me with my wife, will you?”

Aemond moves to the side of the bed, and within an instance, his breeches fall revealing his cock. It is not as thick as Aegon’s though it still has a girth that makes your eyes widen. 

“Get him ready,” Aegon tells you when you do nothing but gawk at Aemond’s cock that stands erect in front of you.

“How?” you ask, unsure of the next steps. 

“With your mouth,” Aegon directs, “get him nice and ready and I’ll let him fuck you kindly.”

A thrill runs through you at the thought and Aemond steps forward. You unhook your jaw and let him slide his hot length through your parted lips. 

Aemond’s pace is different than Aegon’s, as though he is holding back from fucking your throat relentlessly. The tip of his cock hits the back of your throat causing you to gag. 

Aegon moans at that. 

“Do that again,” he says, lifting your leg off his shoulder to hold it in the air. 

Aemond rolls his hips forward gently, causing you to gag again. Aegon groans at the noise. 

“Fuck that’s a pretty sound,” Aegon moans, rolling his hips in such a way that makes your toes curl with pleasure.

“Seven hells,” Aemond hisses when you hollow your cheeks, and experiment with moving your tongue. 

Aemond brings his hands to your breasts, tweaking and pinching your pebbled nipples.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Aegon says, “I knew the moment I saw her I had to have her.”

“As did I,” Aemond says, causing you to whimper around his cock. 

You feel so unbelievably full from both ends, unaware that it was possible to feel this amount of pleasure. Tears leak from the corners of your eyes, as you feel Aegon’s thumb begin to circle the sensitive pearl at the apex of your thighs. 

You feel your thighs begin to tremble, as Aegon continues his attention. Your moans and gags grow louder around Aemond’s cock, the room filling with wet sounds. The pleasure builds and you find your release, cunt clenching around Aegon’s cock. He makes a breathless noise as he feels you tighten around him.

“Seven hells,” Aegon moans, before unsheathing himself from you, “what a good girl you are.”

You cannot answer, due to Aemond’s cock in your mouth and your hazy brain coming down from your orgasm. Aegon chuckles. 

“Go on then,” he says to Aemond, “be sweet to her.”

Aegon climbs off the bed, positioning himself in a chair, and fisting his still-hard cock. Aemond removes his cock from your mouth, a trail of spit connecting you to the tip. Aegon bites his lip at the sight. 

Aemond maneuvers you on the bed, gently cradling your head until it rests on a pillow. His touch is different from Aegon’s, not as rough, not as hasty. You look at your husband, his eyes are dark with lust. 

“What about you?” you ask, voice shaky. He grins at your words, head tilting backward.

“I know,” he purrs, “I’m being awfully generous, and on my wedding night as well.”

He pumps his cock again using the slick from your cunt, his flushed tip weeping precum. 

“You are my wife,” Aegon says, as though reminding you.

You turn your head toward Aemond, who now hovers above you. 

“May I kiss you?” he asks, eye flickering to your lips.

What an odd question to ask when his cock has already been in your mouth. 

“Yes,” you breathe, and Aemond leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss. 

You can feel his thighs brush against yours, his heavy cock nudging your legs apart. He reaches a hand down, barely having to try with how wet you are, sliding inside your tight warm heat with ease. 

You moan against his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck, holding him close to you. Aemond is different, he feels different inside of you. He slowly rolls his hips against you, a gentle, even pace that has you clutching the hair at the nape of his neck. 

Aemond moves his mouth to your neck, kissing the hot flesh. Your head turns to the side, watching Aegon tug himself at the sight of Aemond fucking you. His mouth hangs open, lips curling into a smirk. Aemond’s head is buried in the other side of your neck, his pants music to your ears. 

You drop a hand from Aemond’s shoulders, reaching toward Aegon. He rises from the chair almost instantly and you wrap your hand around his neck. He covers your mouth in a hot kiss, laying beside you. Aemond lifts himself up, before unsheathing himself from you, laying on the other side. 

You turn to face Aegon, as Aemond lifts your leg, to continue to fuck you as you lay on your side. Your mouth falls open at a new angle, the tightness allows your cunt to swallow Aemond’s cock. 

Aegon kisses you, his hand reaching between your legs. A desperate moan is swallowed by your husband, and you reach your hand to stroke him as well. 

“That's it,” he says against your mouth. Aemond bites into your shoulder.

“Gods,” you breathe a pathetic whine that causes both men to chuckle.

“Close,” Aegon murmurs, “this is how a queen should be treated. Do you agree?”

You nod desperately.

“You are a dream,” Aegon purrs, “a delectable dream.” 

You cry out as your second orgasm washes over you, you feel Aemond find his release as well, spilling his hot seed inside of you. 

Aegon continues rubbing you until you’re pushing against him, pleading with him to release you. He does not, only rolls you off Aemond’s softening cock and onto his, having you straddle him. Aegon pulls you down, not allowing you to ride him (that shall be for another occasion). Instead, he holds you flat against his chest, beginning to jackhammer up into you, chasing his release.

You become a babbling mess, clenched so tightly when Aegon finds his release, your cunt milking him for all he is worth. You droop off of Aegon, falling in the space between the brothers, shaking from the pleasure you received, their mingled releases spilling from your entrance. 

You feel Aemond place a gentle kiss on your shoulder, as Aegon moves a strand of hair from your brow.

“I am afraid some of my reputation, holds water,” Aegon admits, fingers trailing down your chest. 

You hum, unable to form words.

“But I am not a selfish lover,” Aegon continues, “you are my wife, and I shan’t deny what brings you pleasure.”

You can feel Aemond growing hard again, as his cock presses against your backside. Aegon’s hand cups your breast, squeezing it softly. 

“Is that alright?” Aegon asks, though his amused expression seems to already know the answer.

You flutter your lashes at him, leaning into Aemond, before answering with a tired smile and a nod. 

It was to be a long night, shared between the dragon princes. 

note: I couldn't pick and I wanted both SUE ME 😤😩🥵

taglist: @afro-hispwriter, @aemondsb1tch, @twobluejeans, @s0urmarvel, @fan-goddess, @the-phantom-of-arda, @cicaspair418, @loxbbg, @arraxthatsonjah, @missbeeentertainment, @maximizedrhythms, @xdeath-soulx , @wrendermeuseless, @hiatuswhore, @sho1407, @minttea07, @arkainea, @elissanatok, @alitaar, @bellaisasleep, @itsleniiilosers, @cassiopeia-black-brenda, @bogwaterswamp, @applepie02, @youngestxhearts, @aurabluestar, @watersquirtpewpewboomm, @w3ird11, @minttea07, @hopebaker, @banana-man0, @m1ndbrand @itsleniiilosers, @for-fuck-sake-im-alive, @duckworthbean, @lunamadhatter99, @mss-nthng, @heavenly1927,@jamespotterismydaddy, @f4ll-for-you, @yentroucnagol, @crazylokonugget, @ugh-my-back, @sweetniasblog @herfantasyworldd, @here-for--the-fun, @zoleea-exultant, @howdoichangemynameto, @wasntpriscilla, @avadakadabra93, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @i-killed-ramsey

[theodorenottwhore]

Rafe with his girlfriend's sister 🤠

cw: cheating, unprotected sex MDNI!!!!!

thank u kitty ( @rafeysdoll ) for proofreading! <3

ִ ۫ ˑ ֗ ִ ˑ ּ 𖥔 𓄼 ࣪⠀ ִ ۫ ּ ֗ ִ ۪ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ᳝

fuck this was wrong. this was so so soooo wrong.

you should not be squeezing your thighs together at the sight of your sister’s boyfriend….but here you were.

it wasn’t your fault! i mean, he was the one who was all shirtless and sexy, laying back in the wooden adirondack chair that sat beside the pool. seriously, there might as well have been a neon sign above his head saying “come fuck me!” with an arrow pointing directly to him!

you heavily debated joining him in the chair beside him. you’d only planned on coming downstairs to refill your glass of water and scamper back up to your room to finish the episode of gossip girl you were on, not expecting anyone to be awake- certainly not rafe.

but, there he was. and there you were. the only two awake at 3:27 am on a friday.

it was fate, you decided, as you quickly fixed your hair and pajamas in the mirror before sliding open the glass doors that led to your backyard.

the faint sound of wings by mac miller coming from the jbl speaker that sat on the small table beside rafe made you smile.

“didn’t know you listened to mac.” you hummed along to the song as you sat down beside rafe, who lifted his head to look at you.

god, he wished he didn’t. the way your baby pink pajamas fit you just right had his mind spinning. rafe liked you, sure. you were always around. prancing through the hallways in little shorts or tight leggings and tank tops that showed a bit too much cleavage.

he didn’t like you though, or at least he thought he didn’t. but the way you looked right now, illuminated by both the moonlight and the outdoor lights had him thinking much differently.

“uhh, yeah. sometimes.” rafe shook his head slightly to snap out of his daze before he spoke. you nodded in response and he diverted his gaze back to the pool in front of him.

after several minutes of awkward silence and thick tension, you got a wonderful idea.

“c’mon! swim with me.” you stood up and extended your hand to rafe, who raised an eyebrow at you.

“it’s almost 4 am!”

“so? i can’t sleep, you can’t sleep, lets go for a swim and tire ourselves out!” you wiggled your hand in his face, urging him once more to join you in the pool.

you shrugged when rafe scoffed and shook his head. you turned on your heels and walked towards the edge of the pool, peeling your shorts off as you went.

you didn’t bother to turn and look at rafe, you felt his eyes on you as you dove into your pool. you stayed under water for a moment and simply enjoyed the serenity that came with it before shooting back up dramatically, almost like a dolphin or a mermaid.

rafe tried his hardest not to look at you as you floated around on your back, plump tits on display for him as he watched from his chair.

“lets play rock, paper, scissors. if i win, you get in the pool with me. if you win, i’ll go back inside.”

rafe thought about it for a moment before he shrugged, leaning up in his chair to get a better view of you. “y��know what? fine.”

you hummed happily as you swam to the side of the pool, resting your elbows on the cool concrete.

“rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

a mischievous grin appeared on your face when you realized you’d beaten rafe, meaning he’d have to get in the pool.

rafe exhaled dramatically as he slipped his shirt off with one hand before sliding off his black basketball shorts. it took every fiber of your being to not look at the prominent bulge showing through his gray boxers.

your eyes traveled up and down his body as he stepped closer to the pool. you were so lost in your daze you hadn’t processed that he was about to jump in right beside you.

you squealed and laughed as rafe dove into the pool, causing a big splash.

when he came up, he looked so…delicious.

the way his hair was all wet and pushed back, the way he looked in the moonlight, the way his muscles flexed as he swam- everything about him had you swooning. you didn’t realize you were staring until rafe cleared his throat.

“what,uh, whatcha doin?” he asked, swimming closer to you.

“um, nothing! just.. just floating!” you smiled awkwardly as rafe began crowding your space, backing you into the concrete wall of the pool.

“‘s that right?” your breath hitches in your throat when you feel rafe’s arms move to cage you in.

you nod fervently and rafe laughs lowly, clearly enjoying your flustered state.

“hmm, that’s too bad. was gonna say if you were checkin’ me out, we might need to do something about that.” rafe smirks and tilts his head, causing you to cower slightly under his gaze.

“like, um, like what??” you gulp as you look up at him. you don’t miss the way his eyes seem to darken or the way he’s much closer now.

you freeze when he moves in for a kiss but frown when he stops before making any contact, backing away while shaking his head.

“nah, better not. don’t need your sister finding us or-“

you cut him off by crashing your lips onto his, taking him by surprise. rafe laughs at your eagerness before deepening the kiss, grabbing the back of your head in one hand and your ass in the other.

he finally pulls away with a low whistle. “look at you, needy girl. woulda’ never guessed you had this in you- being a slut for your sisters boyf-“

“stop talking about her.” you almost growl and rafe laughs again at the way you’re bringing him back to you, clinging onto his shoulders to ensure he doesn’t go anywhere as you kiss him sloppily.

he gasps when you palm him through his boxers, clearly not expecting you to be so…forward.

“fuck.” he breathes out, pulling away from the kiss. “you want it?”

you nod and the way you look up at him through your lashes has him wanting to tear into you, but he decides to wait. he wants to tease you, he thinks. wants to hear you get all desperate for him.

“hey, c’mon. use your-“

“i want you to fuck me, rafe. pl-please.”

usually, rafe would grow annoyed at how you’re interrupting him, but he couldn’t find it in him to care right now as he closed the gap in between you, yet again.

he brought your legs around his waist and groaned when he felt you grind yourself against his growing bulge.

“gotta stretch you out first, yeah? let me see what’s under these panties.” you inhale shakily when his fingers rub you over the lacy fabric before moving them to the side and sliding two fingers into you, keeping his thumb on your sensitive clit.

“rafe!”

“hm?”

“it-ah!-feels so good.” he knows it does, he can tell by the way you’re squeezing him. but hearing you say it is all the prompting he needs to move faster.

“‘m gonna-“ your impending orgasm has tears welling up in your eyes as your back arches off of the wall, trying to get as much of rafe in you as possible.

you let out a whine we he slowly pulls his fingers out. you go to protest but he shuts you up by slipping his fingers in your mouth. “hey, hey- chill. ‘m gonna let you cum, alright? jus’ need you to do it on my dick.”

your eyes widen at his words but you nod and go to move your legs from around his waist but he stops you, large hand grabbing onto your thigh while he shakes his head ‘no’.

you don’t bother trying to pull your panties down anymore as rafe frees himself from his boxers. you shudder when he moves them to the side and drags his tip across your slick folds- slick from both the water and arousal.

he peppers kisses along your jaw as he slides himself into you, making you gasp.

“shit, you’re so tight.” your back arches even more, clothed tits pressing against his chest.

his voice in your ear has your eyes rolling back and your nails digging into his biceps.

“you like that?” he asks breathily, his jaw slack as he thrusts in and out of you.

“yes, god.”

the way his tip keeps brushing against your sweet spot has you sighing in pleasure.

he speaks again after a few minutes of nothing but breathy moans and the slight sounds of water splashing and cicadas fill your backyard.

“fuck, baby if i’d known you were gonna take me so well we would’ve done this a while ago.” he laughs, which causes your ears to burn and a soft giggle to escape your lips.

you bring rafe back into a kiss rubbing your hands all over his arms, chest, and abdomen while he gropes at your chest.

tears well up in your eyes again and he knows what’s about to happen.

“i’m close, rafe! oh god, i’m so close!” your breathing got more rapid as you approached your climax.

“‘m right behind you, pretty girl. let it all out for me, yeah?”

you close your eyes as you moan out his name, raking your nails down his back as you come apart around him. it doesn’t take long for rafe to do the same, his strong hands gripping your hips harshly, keeping you in place as he fucked himself into you.

he pulls out of you with a sigh, shaking his head at the way you whine from the emptiness.

“that was..” rafe is breathless now as he stands beside you, his back against the pool wall.

“yeah..” you laugh. “we should, uh, we should do that again… maybe?”

his eyes widen at your statement but he smirks and nods anyways, reaching to grab your face softly and press a kiss to your forehead. “definitely.”

when you finally get out of the pool, you both wrap up in towels and quietly tiptoe up the stairs. you’re just about to enter your room when rafe whispers your name, causing you to turn around.

“same time tomorrow?”

[theodorenottwhore]

18+

spider’s only priority was to make you cum. His nose was pressed against your puffy clit, tongue buried deep inside your hole. It didn’t matter that Anthony was in the room with you both, stroking his cock to the sound of your pretty moans.

your pleasure was his pleasure.

And nothing got him off more than watching your body contort in complete ecstasy as he firmly kept your legs in place, nails digging into your thighs.

You were soaked and the slurping sounds echoing around the room only confirmed that.

Let’s just say he had no problem getting it up whilst you and his best friend were in the room.

[theodorenottwhore]

rafe cumming inside twice in a row and still going 😫🙈

It amazed you the amount of stamina Rafe had. He could go for hours without getting tired, even after cumming more than once. You weren't sure how long you had been going at it, your perfectly done makeup now gone and hair a wild mess from his constant yanking. He had already came inside you twice, a sticky white ring around his base as he continuously pounded your hole.

You had came a number of times, pussy overly sensitive the harder he thrusted. Rafe had been in a frustrated mood and as the good girlfriend you were, you laid there and took it like an obedient slut. You couldnt help but run a little though, his dick almost too much for at this point as he had you face down ass up.

“Hey, I'm not done with you yet slut. Don’t fuckin run from me.” His voice raspy as he yanked your head back to look forward. He grabbed your fleshy hip with the other, blunt nails digging into your smooth skin as he resumed sheathing inside you.

Your moans had turned into whimpers, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the sounds of your squelching cunt and his heavy balls filled the room. You were on the verge of cumming again, sheets soaked from your previous orgasms. You could feel it in your lower belly, sparkly nails digging into the messed up comforter to hold on.

“Rafe…gonna cum.” You mumbled out, head aching at his tight hold onto your hair.

He let go of your locks only to grab both hips and jackhammer himself inside you like the energizer bunny. “Yeah? Gonna make a mess again, all because I can't stop filling this cunt up.” He groaned, nuts tightening as you squeezed around him.

[theodorenottwhore]

Nightmares... and helpful snakes

Notes: This is a continuation of Pleasant dreams... and tentacles (can be read individually though) - but be warned: this part is a lot more explicit, a lot more depraved and a little brutal! If you are squeamish about slithering things, please do not read this! (But stay for the Slytherin boy?)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!mc

Genre: Smut // Words: 8k // [READ ON AO3]

Synopsis: After that first disturbing dream, Sebastian's girlfriend finds herself in even more disturbing dreams, though this time, she has her boyfriend to protect her. But does he really?

WARNINGS: NSFW! Tentacles! Non-con elements! Hurt/Comfort! Panic attacks! Explicit sexual content! Somnophilia! Ophidiophilia! Snakes! Cervix penetration! Vaginal/Anal! Read at your own risk!

(Please note: The beginning is very vile, but it will not stay like that (only a little), I promise!)

Nightmares... and helpful snakes

She was suspended in the air, held by a thick, pulsing vine wrapped around her ankle. It felt as if she was hanging upside down, but she couldn't be sure, her head was spinning too much. Her body swayed in a dizzying rhythm as the thick tentacles moved in and out of her various orifices. In and out, pulsing, undulating, pushing deeper, stretching her, filling her out.

Two or three or four, maybe five, thick tendrils in her cunt, a few less, at least two, in her tight arse, one particularly fat one invading her mouth, pushing down her throat, deeper and deeper right down her oesophagus until it poked at her stomach, from within. They were moving against one another in each hole, slithering, slippery and sticky, bumpy and smooth, different textures for different holes.

Rigid ones stretching her entrance, holding her open for more to slip in and out, slip deeper, filling every inch of available space, growing thinner, pushing as deep as possible and beyond, into spaces nothing should be pushed into, while others grew wider, thicker, pulling her open.

Wet squelching noises filled the air. It was a constant sound, sickening, disturbing. And she couldn't scream. She could do nothing. She was there, somehow, but her body wasn't hers anymore. Her limbs tied by strong vines, holding her up, spreading her legs, anchoring her arms in an unseen mass that seemed to slowly absorb her.

Her world was upside down, blood rushing into her head, adding to the nauseating dizziness that engulfed her. She tried to squirm, to move, struggling helplessly in her confines, but the more she writhed, the stronger the grip of the plant became. Stronger and tighter and more brutal in its assault.

She felt more tendrils coiling around her limbs, around her stomach, around her neck, squeezing, choking. The tentacle in her mouth gagged her, muffled her noises, and she wondered how she was even able to breathe at this point. The two in her bum pushed and prodded, widening her, filling her depths with squirming motions as they seemed to curl up inside her. Then more joined them, slithering past them into the crevices they left open, stretching her further, gaping her, occupying all the space there was, and more.

The same was happening beyond her wet folds. At one point they were so many, they seemed to meld into one giant, fat tentacle made up of many twisting tendrils, a strange kind of corkscrew impaling her in turning motions, filling her, widening her, moving in and out in a lazy, nauseating rhythm, using her body's own juices to make the passage easier. More individual tendrils, thin and thick and everything in between, joined the larger one, curiously prodding, squeezing into the empty spaces, if there even were any, pressing into her walls, against those sensitive spots that made her scream against the tentacle in her mouth, if only she could.

She was spasming around them, fluids dripping down her sweat slick skin, limbs twitching, muscles contracting, clamping down on the intruders. And they pushed back, seemingly growing, widening her again, distorting her skin, bulging her belly, filling her belly from both ends. More and more it moved within her, deep within her, every single tendril pulsed, never not in motion.

They made her one of their own, a part of the always squelching, always slithering mass that occupied the dark, damp corners of the world. Her skin was a different colour from their greyish-black texture, but the way she moved, and was moved, was like them. Squirming and writhing, undulating in a rhythm that seemed to sway with the cold breeze. They invaded her, penetrated her, filled her, held her tight and secure, and she felt herself sinking, she couldn't feel much else, sinking into the dark void surrounding her until there was nothing left, neither of the world around her, nor of her.

‎

She woke up with a shrill, agonized scream, bolting up in bed, arms flailing, hitting around in nothing but pure terror. A groan sounded in the echo of her screech, and as she sat upright, panting to the point of being unable to breathe at all, her heart thundering inside her chest, the tears came flowing down her cheeks, hectic sobs turning into hiccoughs, as panic gripped her sweat covered limbs like shadows of whatever had held her captive before.

The arms that embraced her from behind only made it worse. She shrieked again, hysterically wailing, squirmed and writhed and fought against the strength holding her down, until a low voice echoed through the loud throbbing inside her ears.

“Shh, it's alright, just a nightmare, you're safe now,” the voice cooed into her neck, vibrating through her like a soothing wave lapping at her skin.

His grip was tight, almost forceful, but it helped her in calming down slowly. Blinking against the tears and sniffling pathetically, she leaned against him, her lips tingling badly as her face went numb. Suddenly she could breathe again, as unexpected as when she had realized she couldn't. Gasping and gulping down air as if she had been drowning before, she slowly relaxed against the warm body pressed to her back that gently made her lie down again, pulling her closer, protecting her from the darkness that tried to drag her away again.

Wet lips pressed to her neck, along her shoulder, and when the arms loosened their strong embrace, warm hands rubbed at the goosebumps crawling under her skin, applying just enough pressure to soothe her even further. Long fingers curved around the bumps of her body, holding her, squeezing her softly, massaging her back into reality.

The haze in her head cleared slowly, the rooting nightmare trying to dissipate, or at least being forced back into the darker corners of her mind. Inhaling deeply, her chest moving against the hands resting on the soft mounds of her breasts, she started feeling the world around her again. Aside from the warm body pressed to hers.

She was lying on a comfortable bed, a soft summer breeze came in through an open window near the headboard, the sounds of the night pushing back into her ears: crickets, leaves rustling in the wind, critters moving through the underbrush, the old wood of the house creaked and ached, and somewhere beyond the border of the village a series of howls and hoots called through the night.

The horrible vision and experience of her nightmare crawled away from her eventually as she regained control over her consciousness. Taking another shuddering breath, she turned her head and found two brown eyes watching her in the dim light that seeped through the open window. Her gaze wandered over a worried face, lines etched into freckled skin, a frown pulling at the thick eyebrows.

“Are you okay?” Sebastian asked quietly, his voice low and husky, a soft murmur, carried by warm breath hitting her trembling lips.

She nodded, her hands moving up to touch his face as she rolled onto her side, his arms shifting around her as he pulled her closer against him, hands pressed to her shoulder blades, slowly slipping lower until they cupped her rear almost protectively. She squirmed into his hold, letting him hold her like that, knowing he'd keep her safe.

Her fingers traced the contours of his face, over cheekbones and along his temples into his messy hair and over his scalp, back down to his jaw until she held him between her hands and leaned closer to press her tingling lips to his, yearning to feel his warmth. He kissed her back softly, carefully, his lips closing around hers, slipping between them, pressing and sucking and nibbling, and when his tongue met hers, she exhaled loudly against him and leaned into the sensual wrestle, her eyelids fluttering shut as she savoured the warm wetness of his mouth.

He rolled her onto her back, parted her legs to lie between them as he pushed her into the mattress. His hands roamed her body, sliding over soft skin, leaving the pleasant kind of goosebumps in their wake, until he cradled her face between them, thumbs wiping at her cheeks while the long fingers dug into her hair as he continued kissing her deeply.

Her arms snaked around his back, fingernails digging into his skin as she held onto him, moaning softly into his mouth. It was still the middle of the night, dark and quiet, aside from their heavy breaths and kissing sounds, and somehow her body soon relaxed beneath him, lulled by his warmth and weight. She felt her consciousness slipping as he kept kissing her, much slower now, almost lazily, his own breaths deep and soothing.

He leaned his cheek against hers as her head rolled to the side, eyes closed, lips parted, her mind blissfully empty. Before she fell asleep again, she heard his low voice close to her ear.

“Do you want me to protect you again?” he asked softly, his lips brushing against her earlobe.

She inhaled deeply and gave a quiet hum of affirmation. He kissed her cheek and gently lifted his body off of hers before he rolled her onto her side and lay down behind her, pulling her against his chest while he positioned his groin against her rear. Despite the hazy state of her head, she felt his erection press between her cheeks. He wasn't completely hard, but it didn't matter either way.

Snaking his arms around her, he lowered one hand down along her stomach between her thighs, gently nudging them apart before he slipped his length into their snug embrace. For a few moments he shifted his hips against her, a slow back and forth until she felt him hardening more. His fingers ghosted her mound and slipped between her folds, eager fingertips rubbing along her slit until she grew wetter for him.

A soft moan escaped her as his thumb brushed against her clit, her thighs twitching under the touch. She felt him pulling his hips back, his other hand closing around his cock as he prodded it against her entrance. He eased it into her slowly, carefully, until her walls gripped onto his tip and pulled him deeper. His soft groan vibrated in her ear as she arched her back against his chest. He slipped further into her tightness by giving her short little stabs, his hips gradually moving closer until her bum cheeks pressed against his pelvis and his entire length was buried deep inside her, her muscles moulding to his size.

The feeling of fullness carried over to her half-asleep mind, and she hoped it would remember this intrusion when it suggested her with yet another horrible dream of slimy tendrils trying to invade the same cavity.

She didn't know what happened after she fell asleep, but she assumed Sebastian would not just lie there with his hard cock inside her clenching pussy, waiting for the day to break. He'd used her sleeping form before to calm his own nerves. She knew he also suffered from nightmares, though his were much more realistic than hers, and definitely not of the sexual kind.

It was a mutual understanding, to be connected like that through the night, and it profited both of them. He would be spent and exhausted once he was done using her for his own pleasure, making it easier for him to fall asleep with his mind occupied with happy thoughts, while the knowledge of him occupying at least one of her holes gave her the comforting certainty that nothing could slither into her uninvited while she was pulled into another strange dreamscape.

They had come to this arrangement when she had first confided in him after her nightmares had gotten worse over time. It had all started with one particular dream that had been absurdly tame in comparison to her recent ones. Now it felt as if there would be more tentacles every single night, and somehow they always found her and her various orifices.

Of course she should be lucky that she was merely dreaming about being assaulted by that awful plant, but whenever she woke from her nightmares, she would feel completely exhausted, dirty and used. Those nightmares felt too real, and it frightened her immensely.

So much so that she had eventually told Sebastian about them, trying to figure out if they meant something, or if that was the norm with dreams in a magical environment like Hogwarts. But even during summer breaks, spent far away from the castle in a tiny cottage, they would still find her...

He had joked about keeping her holes occupied before she would fall asleep so no magical thing could harm her in her dreams, but despite the unusual idea, she had felt comfort knowing that he would protect her like that, and so she had agreed.

It hadn't worked right away, sometimes it didn't work at all, maybe him being buried inside her clenching cunt all night long had only fuelled whatever was happening to her in her dreams, but at least she knew why she'd feel sore the next morning. That was still better than having phantom pains from imaginary creatures invading her sacred spaces.

‎

It didn't take long for her mind to wander back into the darkness. She found herself lying on something warm and soft and squishy. A mass of moving limbs, pulsing, squirming, writhing, tendrils of all sizes slithering beneath her, moulding to the shape of her body.

They were not assaulting her like last time, they were just there, cushioning her resting form, keeping her warm in her makeshift nest. It was only when she stirred, that the mass awakened with her. Her hand moved over the tightly coiled appendages of the plant, feeling a deep thrum coming from within them.

And slowly, the first tentacles slipped free from the large, unidentifiable body, thick and thin vines erecting from the dark pile. One moved closer to her face, curiously poking at her cheek, then at her lips. She kept her mouth closed as she slowly came to, her eyes unfocused.

When she felt the tendrils nudging her mouth again, she squirmed away, moving on top of the writhing mass that soon reacted to her frantic motions.

Slim tendrils shot out and wrapped around her ankles, others pushed her over until she was lying on her back. More emerged from beneath her, winding around her limbs, pulling them apart as they did so, and the more she struggled, the faster they wrapped around her until both arms and legs were covered with tightly coiled, living ropes.

She gasped, parting her lips just enough for that one tentacle to slip into her mouth. Whimpering helplessly, she couldn't do anything as it moved over her tongue and deeper into her mouth, pushing straight into her throat. She gagged around it violently, her body convulsing, spit and bile filling her mouth in addition to the slimy substance the tendril was covered in.

Her vision blurred at the edges, and she found herself forced to swallow around it, a deep ache that made her whimper louder. The tentacle rested in her throat, unmoving, just pulsing, throbbing. Saliva dripped from her trembling lips before they unwillingly closed around the thick tendril.

As she fought and tried to adjust to the intrusion by taking short panicked breaths through her nose, she felt something slithering around her neck and downwards, circling her breasts, flicking her nipples, then poking at her bellybutton. She squirmed, and it moved on, looking for a real hole to push into.

It found her wet folds and dragged its thick appendage through them in an undulating fashion, coaxing muffled moans out of her. The tentacle's thick form parted her lower lips while its tip poked around curiously, and when it brushed against her clit she twitched involuntarily. It stiffened slightly at her reaction, then did it again, and again, until she was wailing against the obtrusion in her throat.

Wet squelching noises rang in her ears as the tentacle moved between her folds, prodding at her entrance, short quick stabs that made her shiver deeply as it literally tested the waters. And then it pushed in fully, past the initial resistance, and entered her with a weird popping sound before it slithered deeper, slowly dragging its slimy appendage over her soft flesh. Instinctively her walls clenched around it, and it struggled further, writhing, its long form throbbing as it pushed on, more and more of it vanishing inside her.

She whimpered soundlessly, spit filling her mouth until she had to swallow around the tendril in her throat again, the pain sending cold shudders down her limbs. When the tentacle in her quivering cunt found the end of her channel with a forceful stab as it pushed against her cervix, her vision blackened, and encouraged by its brother's sense of exploration, the tendril in her mouth started moving too, retreating from her throat, giving her the chance to breathe properly, but only for a short moment before it plunged back in, then repeated that motion for what felt like forever.

The same happened between her legs. The tentacle pulled back, almost all the way, her walls clinging to its slimy skin as it did so, then pushed back in with a powerful thrust. She could only groan and grunt, her voice muffled and weak, whenever either of the tentacles pushed deeper, stretching her throat or prodding her cervix. Her eyes rolled back as she succumbed to the unstoppable assault.

Yet despite the weakened state of her body, she wasn't numb yet, and she could feel more tendrils moving around her lower body, gliding along the cleft between her arse cheeks, some stopping there to poke at her puckered hole, others dragging on towards where the thick tentacle pounded into her pussy. She felt them pushing against her stretched entrance, widening it more as they forced their squishy limbs into her warmth as well, joining the other, curiously pressing against her walls, filling her further.

She was struggling against her confines, but the devilish plant held her tightly, arms and legs spread wide apart, hands and feet submerged in the writhing mass beneath her. Feeling trapped and utterly helpless against the monstrous foe, she felt tears wetting her cheeks, desperate whimpers escaping past the thick tentacle pounding into her throat.

In the cacophony of wet squelching sounds and muffled whines, she heard another noise she had not heard before. A hissing sound. And the plant seemed to react to it as well. The tendrils moving in and out of her fluttering cunt ceased their undulating motions and seemed to retreat slowly, leaving her walls clenching around nothing, throbbing from the burning friction.

Somehow she stopped struggling also, calmed by the strange noise. That also made the tentacle inside her throat rest its relentless pounding, though unfortunately it stopped moving still lodged deep inside her, still blocking her airways to an extend that made breathing really hard, even though she somehow managed not to faint from it (her mind was not generous enough to let her know she was only dreaming, but it was at least so kind to add something new to her reoccurring nightmare).

That thing hissed again, and without being able to see it, she knew it was a snake that slithered between her spread legs, driving off the invading tendrils. They still maintained their tight grip on her limbs, holding her open and bound to the mass writhing beneath her, but they seemed to keep their distance to the new intruder.

Despite hearing those threatening hisses and knowing that a snake would be far more dangerous than those pesky, but more or less harmless tendrils (they had their way with her, but they never hurt her... much), she felt something like overwhelming relief when it moved closer to her slightly gaping entrance. To keep those vines away, of course, it surely wouldn't do the same to her, right?

How wrong she was. She gasped against the tentacle in her mouth as she felt its cool, scaly body slither up her inner thigh, its muscles pressing against her soft skin as it made its way up her body to then curl up on her stomach, its long and thin tongue buzzing contently. But it didn't stay there. It got curious.

She felt its head moving along the curve of her mound, its scales rubbing against her clit as it slithered down, the rest of its body following in an agonizingly slow pace, each muscle of its writhing form pressing against that sensitive bundle of nerves that made her whimper softly. Soon her nub was throbbing badly (the snake was longer than expected, hence why the rubbing seemed to go on forever).

Then the snake plopped down onto the writhing mass beneath her, and its body coiled up right in front of her folds while its thinner tail moved back up to tease her clit some more by flicking and pulling on it curiously. More soundless whines escaped her, and even the tendril in her throat seemed to thrum in anticipation. Her thighs twitched in their tight constraints, the tentacles holding her squirming with her.

Suddenly she felt something warm and wet tickle her lower lips, and she would have screamed if she would have been able to. The snake's tongue buzzed against her sensitive skin, causing her to struggle even more in her confines. But it didn't vex her long before she felt its elongated head pushing between her folds and right against her entrance.

That relief she had experienced before was completely gone when it was replaced by nothing but terror as she realized what the snake was about to do. She tried to buck her hips away from it, but it only hissed at her while its tail wrapped around her clit, giving it a threatening pull. Whimpering quietly, she stopped her squirming, but the fear remained in the pit of her stomach.

As if the devilish plant wanted her to witness this new, albeit unexpected addition to its sick little game, she felt the tentacles move her body as one particularly thick vine wrapped around her neck, choking her further for a moment while it pulled her into a strange sitting position, allowing her to see between her legs. Her eyes widened as she looked past the tentacle still wedged inside her throat and down at the snake between her thighs.

It wasn't as big as she had feared, but it was long and slim, with shiny green scales and strange brown dots on them. Its head lifted up slightly when it noticed her change in position, and when she met its deep amber eyes, she frowned at how familiar that gaze felt. It hissed at her, its thin forked tongue shooting out of its mouth, but it didn't feel like a threatening hiss.

The longer she stared at it, the calmer she felt. And as she stopped struggling in the Devil's Snare's hold, its vines loosened their grip on her limbs until they were actually releasing her. Her rear slumped down onto its massive body of writhing appendages, her legs still spread, but her arms fell to her sides, fingers tingling as her blood was allowed to circulate through her veins again.

She was still looking into the snake's eyes and barely noticed the tendril inside her throat retreating as well until it slipped out of her mouth with a wet pop. Then she blinked and gasped softly, suddenly being able to breathe properly again, saliva dripping from her parted lips as she took deep gulps of air. Mindlessly raising a hand to wipe her mouth, she moved her other hand down towards the snake. It bumped its head against her palm softly, buzzing its tongue against her skin.

She swallowed hard, ignoring the strain to her throat, when the snake started moving its long mouth against her folds once more, undulating up and down through her slick, and a moan escaped her when its tail kept teasing her clit, both stimulations feeding the heat pooling in her belly. Then she felt the snake's scaly lips pressing against her entrance, and seconds later, it slipped its tongue into her tight channel, the strange buzzing sensation causing her to twitch badly.

Without the tendrils holding her body in place and her legs open, she pressed her thighs together as she fell onto her back with a deep moan, not even thinking about possibly squishing the snake between them as she squirmed in pleasure. The snake didn't seem to mind as it continued its unusual assault, its tongue reaching deeper and deeper as it pressed its head firmer against her entrance, stretching her sensitive skin as it slipped in further, inch by inch.

Somehow she had forgotten about the writhing mass she was lying on, until the devilish plant wanted to be a part of the game again by erecting a few vines from its body that wrapped around her ankles and pulled her legs apart, giving her the opportunity to see that the snake was about to penetrate her even deeper, its whole head already buried between her folds, – yet she didn't take that chance, she was too engulfed by the sensation that particular motion caused inside her body as she thrashed around slightly, little whimpers falling from her lips.

And she didn't need to see what the snake was doing, she felt it plenty. Its strong muscles thrummed against her sensitive skin as it moved its body deeper into her wet warmth by slowly wriggling forwards, its scales rubbing over her soft flesh as it did so – all while its tail was still wrapped around her throbbing nub, keeping her juices flowing as it slithered into her clenching cunt.

As it filled her tight channel, it kept pushing its tongue out, teasing her walls, easing its passage as she reacted to the strange sensation by contracting her muscles, allowing it to be pulled deeper. And suddenly its scaled lips pressed against her cervix like a deep kiss, and she cried out soundlessly as her hips jerked off the ground.

The snake kept prodding its head against her deepest point, over and over again, which was painful at first but soon she succumbed to the notion, and the more it prodded, the tighter she squeezed its body, causing it to thrum inside her, stimulate her nerves even more, until the coil inside her stomach erupted into a million tiny lights as an unexpected orgasm crashed over her.

The plant beneath her seemed to screech away from her thrashing and loosened its grip on her limbs as if the light in her head was affecting it as well, but as her vision blurred and black spots crept up on her, it reconsidered its retreat and wrapped its tendrils around her limbs once more, tighter this time, as if still determined to hold her open as the snake assaulted her cervix.

She could feel the snake's head still pushing against it as if trying to force it open (and by doing so moved its entire body in and out of her in an undulating fashion, its scales scraping over her highly sensitive walls), and when she suddenly felt its tongue pushing through, she cried out, squirming in a mixture of pain and pleasure as she came around its body once more, her juices coating its scales, her muscles contracting, clenching around it tightly, holding it deep inside of her as it continued to penetrate her womb.

Her head was blissfully empty, spinning in place as if she was suspended in mid-air, hanging upside down, but it was the most pleasurable kind of vertigo she had ever experienced. Her eyes rolled back, her mouth agape, her body in a constant state of arousal as the snake thrummed and throbbed within her tight space. Moans and whimpers mixed with wet squelching sounds and a deep buzzing noise that vibrated through her entire body.

She felt herself slipping away, her mind pulling her towards the light, the other side, as her consciousness flickered awake slowly. There was still something thick and warm and hard inside her quivering cunt, moving slowly, in and out, languid thrusts that opened her tightness before her walls clung to it as it retreated, trying to pull it back. A very real moan slipped from her trembling lips as her eyes fluttered open.

Instead of being trapped inside a pit of tentacles with a snake lodged between her folds, she was lying on a soft bed, held by two strong arms, one across her chest, fondling her breasts, the other pressed against her hips to help the body behind her to move her against it in a steady rhythm. Deep, but heavy breaths ghosted her ear as she slowly came to again.

Unaware of her waking up, Sebastian continued to drive his length deep into her tight channel, using the shivers and shudders of her dreaming body to coax those sweet whimpers and moans out of her. He could feel her chest rising and falling fast against his arm, her hard nipples scraping over his skin as he held her close to his chest while he moved his hips against her, agonizingly slow so he wouldn't wake her.

The tension in his lower stomach was almost unbearable at this point, and he wished he could really rut into her, dig his fingers into her hip and piston his cock in and out of her faster so her plump arse cheeks slapped against his pelvis, cushioning his assault, but he refrained, breathing loudly through his nose, keeping the steady pace. It might tire him out quicker, he hoped, though the need for release was growing ever stronger as his balls tightened with every slow slam against her thighs.

A groan escaped him as he felt her walls clenching around him, tighter than before, and when his gaze moved over her peaceful face, he noticed her looking at him out of hooded eyes. He abruptly stopped moving within her, feeling guilty despite knowing she would have allowed it anyway, but it still felt a little wrong to use her like this. She smiled at him, softly, then raised a shaking hand and brushed her fingertips over his tense jaw.

“Keep going, please,” she whispered, her voice raspy and strained, the low sound vibrating through his whole body.

He inhaled sharply and nodded, slowly resuming his languid thrusts as he watched her closely. Her eyes glazed over slightly as her lips parted and another one of those whimpers slipped from her throat. He leaned in then, claiming her mouth for a searing kiss as he hugged her tighter to himself and increased his pace slightly.

Their tongues tangled, lazily at first, she still seemed to struggle to regain control over her limbs after whatever wet dream she had had this time, but once she woke up more and more, she kissed him back almost hungrily, her sudden passion driving him to slam his hips harder against her rear. Moaning into the other's mouth they found a rhythm that soon pushed both of them over the edge.

The arm around her stomach moved lower until his fingers found her throbbing clit, flicking and rubbing and pulling it expertly until her body convulsed against his, her thighs twitching uncontrollably. She cried out in bliss, her noises muffled by his mouth on hers, as she came around him, her juices drenching his hand as he kept rubbing her while pounding into her with reckless abandon, fucking her through her orgasm, using her contracting muscles to find his own release.

When he did, he grunted into her mouth, breaking the kiss as his body stiffened behind her, his hips twitching against her rear while he stilled inside her, buried deep within her tight warmth, as he felt his seed spurting from his tip in erratic twitches. She mewled in his embrace, spasming just as frantically when he emptied himself inside her. Her head slammed against his shoulder as she thrashed it back when more moans fell from her parted lips.

Sebastian saw her eyes rolling back as her body went limp in his arms. Panting against her motionless form, he was about to withdraw from her clenching cunt, and he did for a moment, feeling his seed seeping past her folds as his hand rubbed along her puffy lips, but then he remembered his promise to protect her holes while she slept, and so he pushed back in, his own cum squelching out past their connection as he slipped home without any struggle.

While he buried his still half-erect cock in her warm depths and pulled her sleeping body against his to hold her safely in his arms, her mind drifted back into the darkness, fuelled by those sensations he had given her, and she found herself in that strangely familiar pit of writhing appendages again that welcomed her back like an old friend.

Vines coiled around her ankles and wrists, pulling her limbs apart, and she felt too heavy to protest. There were no tentacles trying to fill her orifices, but the snake was back. It slithered around her neck, teased its buzzing tongue against her cheek, leaving a cold wetness on her skin, before it pressed its scaly lips to her mouth.

She parted her own lips in surprise, expecting the snake to slip into her throat like that tentacle had, but it didn't, it only extended its thin forked tongue and tickled the inside of her cheeks, before it retreated and started moving down her body once more. Its muscles pressed into her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, as it descended further, slithering around her breasts and along her stomach before it teased her throbbing clit with a nudge of its mouth.

While the body of the snake coiled around her thigh, its tail focused on pushing and rubbing against that sensitive nub, making her moan and whimper softly, her hips bucking into its touch. Then she felt the snake's head pushing against her wet folds, moving between them, coating itself in her wetness, before it prodded her entrance with a determination as if it had done this countless times before.

And when it slipped in past that point of resistance, she shuddered and groaned as it wriggled deeper, the friction of its scales scraping over her soft flesh coaxing quiet squeals and shrieks out of her throat. Instead of going straight for her womb again, it seemed to move within her, stretching her by pulling more of its body into her warm depths while its head pressed against her soft walls as it changed direction.

She only realized what it was doing, when a soft hiss came to her ears, and when she looked down between her spread thighs, she noticed the snake's glistening head poking out past her folds, its amber eyes looking up at her – while the rest of its body was still lodged within her, curled up in a tight loop, doubling its girth.

The sensation of being filled like this took her breath away for a moment, and it didn't stop there, as the snake's body was still slithering into her, more and more of its length occupying any available space it could find, until only the head was sticking out. Even its tail vanished inside her, leaving her clit unattended for the time being.

Not that she minded (or noticed) as the snake coiled up between her tight walls, scales digging into her soft flesh as it stretched her beyond belief while wriggling inside her, pressing into all the right spots, stimulating her more than anything could have ever done before. Her entire body convulsed as the long snake squirmed inside her, its body coiled up and twisted, looped and entangled, a living thing occupying every nook and cranny of her quivering cunt.

And it got even worse when the snake's head moved towards her clit and flicked its tongue against that throbbing bundle of nerves, the sudden pressure making her come instantly.

Wailing in pleasure, she thrashed her head back into her bed of tentacles, and with her sudden movements, the devilish plant that held her limbs came back to life again. Tendrils shot from the unidentifiable mass beneath her, wrapping around her body, once, twice, three times around her stomach, a couple of times around her neck, two coiled around her breasts, squeezing them before teasing her hard nipples with their tips, not one, but two tried to push past her lips, but then she heard a loud hissing sound, and they retreated, lazily poking at her ears instead.

The snake hissed at the tentacles trying to poke at her folds, and they slipped back into the darkness where they'd come from. One tried prodding her puckered hole and almost made it past the tight ring of muscles, but then the snake let out a loud growl as it opened its mouth wide, its fangs jetting out threateningly. A strange screech-like hiss answered the predatory gesture, and the vine moved back, leaving her alone.

None of these things did she actually notice as she was still kept floating weightlessly about (though she somehow still knew about them as if she would watch the whole scene from a spectator's point of view). Her body shuddered whenever the snake moved its coiled body inside her tight space, coaxing more and more soft whimpers out of her. Once the plant seemed to realize it couldn't play with her like usual, it let the snake do its thing instead – and oh how it did that!

She felt its tongue buzzing against her clit again, the tiny vibrations like electric shocks that jolted through her spine, making her writhe and squeak, adding to the overwhelming sensations its body created while stuffed inside her. Relentlessly torturing her nub with its tongue and scaled lips, the snake's long form slithered within her tight warmth, still stretching her as it tried to withstand the occasional squeezes of her muscles whenever she was thrown towards another orgasm.

It might have been many, or just a single, very long one, she wasn't sure, she couldn't think, she couldn't do anything but hang suspended in mid-air, held by numerous tentacles that were too stubborn to leave her alone completely while the snake had its fun with her.

She was so overstimulated, she soon felt her consciousness slipping, drifting away from the dreamscape she found herself trapped in. Her eyelids fluttered as she lay in Sebastian's arms on the bed in that small cottage, a warm summer breeze wafting over her sweat slick body, but then she felt a sharp pain, a sudden stab, and she was back in the tentacle pit, pulled violently into her dream once more.

Gasping in slight shock she felt the snake moving within her stretched pussy, its tail winding itself through the loops and twists of its body until it found the deepest spot. Like its head had tried before, it prodded her cervix, but because its tail was thinner and pointier, it didn't take long for it to actually penetrate the entrance to her womb, and the sudden pain she felt as it pushed deeper into her, made her issue a soundless scream that hurt her aching throat.

The pain and discomfort of that intrusion gripped her body like an invisible claw, sinking its sharp talons into her stomach, twisting her insides, as cramps and twitches made her curl into herself – if only she wouldn't be held by that devilish plant that watched the scene without doing anything, silently mocking her for choosing a snake instead of its own appendages.

She whimpered helplessly, but when the snake's tail moved within the tight ring of her cervix, hopefully to leave her womb, she inhaled sharply, only to cry out again as it pushed back in with more force this time, stretching her even wider as more of its body penetrated these places she didn't know were penetrable. Yet this time she spasmed not only in pain, but in mind-numbingly bright bliss as well as another orgasm crashed through her body at the unfamiliar sensation.

Wailing and convulsing, her muscles contracting tightly around the snake's body, she writhed and squirmed in her confines, tears streaming down her cheeks, her face contorted in both terror and ecstasy. With how fiercely she squeezed the snake inside her, it seemed to want to leave the tight embrace, some of it slithering out of her, finally easing on the stretch against her walls, but some of it followed the curious tail deeper into her body, making her howl in pain.

A nauseating vertigo grabbed her, her head spinning, her stomach churning, her insides protesting. Her breaths were as erratic as her heartbeat, so much so that she thought she'd die on the spot as it all got too much when she was thrown from paralysing pain to overwhelming orgasm and back, a constant up and down of extremes that was as dizzying as it was sensational.

But of course she couldn't die.

Not in the dreamscape her mind had set up for her, fuelled by real-life occurrences and the strange kind of magic that surged through her veins. Probably also enhanced by those very well hidden fantasies that she sometimes thought about, where being manhandled by a giant tentacle monster seemed like a good idea (in theory). As well as having a living snake curl up inside her pussy (because who'd think that curious animal would explore her body so thoroughly).

No, she didn't die from overexertion or excruciating pain or overstimulation, instead she woke up, a very real scream piercing the quiet morning as she bolted up in bed, arms flailing about helplessly again. A frightened rooster answered her call with a loud crow of its own. With her heart beating wildly inside her chest, she took frantic breaths, trying to calm herself. In her frenzy, she didn't notice the arms snaking around her stomach and the quiet groan behind her until she was pulled back against a warm chest, a surprised shriek falling from her trembling lips.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw a freckled face pressed against her back, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed, a soft hum erupting from Sebastian's throat as he held her close, hugging her tightly until the shudders died down eventually, calming her nerves like he always did when she woke up screaming. And he didn't stop there. Rolling her onto her stomach, he straddled her thighs, his hands pressed firmly to her lower back as he pushed her into the mattress.

She wasn't sure if he was fully awake yet or somehow sleepwalking as he didn't answer when she called his name. He was still strong enough to hold her down, though, as she started squirming against him, a confused fear gripping her as he grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her back, holding her wrists with one hand while he moved the other between her tight thighs, blindly poking at her folds.

“Sebastian!” she tried again, turning her head to look back at him, only realizing with growing discomfort that his eyes were indeed still closed as he rubbed his hard cock between her bum cheeks.

Yet instead of fighting him, she surrendered. She had allowed him to use her in her sleep, so that probably included him using her while he was asleep too. However he was doing that. But magic-induced dreams were a funny thing, like magic itself, they were capable of bringing to life the most spectacular ideas and fantasies, all in the safety of one's own mind. Unless those two worlds started to bleed into each other.

She had no idea what he was dreaming about, but maybe it wasn't as complex as she had thought, he was a horny teenager after all, it was probably just a wet dream, a continuation of what he had done to her earlier. Or so she hoped when he started wiping the tip of his cock from between her thighs up along the cleft between her cheeks, up and down, through her slit and over her puckered hole, collecting her wetness, coaxing little whimpers out of her as she pressed her cheek into the pillow.

With how he held her hands and sat on her legs, she couldn't move much in her prone position. That's why she couldn't do anything but whine louder when he eventually pressed the thick head of his hard member against her entrance, but because he was still fast asleep and she still tried to squirm against him, he missed and pressed into that tight ring of muscles instead.

For him it was just another tight hole, for her it was a burning pain that made her cry out in shock as the pressure grew and he forced his cock deeper into her unprepared bum. Struggling against his iron grip on her wrists, she kicked her feet, fighting the intrusion, but ultimately only made it worse as she tensed up around him. Biting her lip until she drew blood, she muffled her own noises of distress while he let out a deep groan as he sank his entire length into her tight space.

Having done his part apparently, he then let go of her hands and collapsed right onto her back, arms cradling her head, his face buried in the crook of her neck, his entire broad frame pressing her down, pushing another gasp and all the air out of her lungs while driving every last inch of his hard cock into her arse, causing her to see stars for a moment. Snaking her hands free from beneath his heavy body, she tried to angle her arms against the bed to push him off her, but he wasn't budging and her limbs felt like they were made of jelly.

Heaving a deep sigh of resignation, she remained lying beneath him, her muscles lazily clenching around the resting intruder inside her bowels. He wasn't moving, so the pressure never let up, the feeling of fullness making her dizzy, or maybe it was his weight on her that kept her from breathing properly. At least there is no friction, she thought, and as soon as those six words left her mind, he started jerking his hips against her, small shallow stabs that made her issue a series of strained whimpers.

Was she projecting these things now? Or had the magic within her a very crude sense of humour by letting her experience whatever strange things she could think about? Whatever the case, she couldn't fight it, neither could she fight the slams of those hips against her cushioned rear and the burning sensation those in and out movements caused against her tight muscles.

In her last clear moments, she thought about having a serious talk with this horny boy on top of her and how she might revoke his right to use her as he saw fit, but then the initial pain of his intrusion gave way to a strange kind of pleasure that numbed the roughness of his thrusts as he grew bolder in his movements. Whimpers turned into moans as she succumbed to the sensations, and as she closed her eyes and leaned into whatever was happening to her, her mind was gracious enough to let her slip back into another dream.

Filled with wet squelching sounds and squirming tentacles pushing into any available orifice, so many she lost count as they alternated in their undulating motions, driving her insane with bliss. And luckily, there was no snake, no hissing noises or wet buzzing tongues, no curious prodding into regions nothing and nobody should ever invade.

And while she was floating in ecstatic weightlessness, her body riddled by uncontrollable twitches, both inside her dream and her reality, she came to terms with the fact that her mind was dirtier than she had ever imagined if it allowed her to feel all these things at once. Even the painful things. But maybe, deep down, she was just that: a masochist, or at least someone who was too numb to feel and needed the extra kick to know she was still alive.

Or maybe she was just as horny as the boy pounding his cock into her bum. Maybe it was that simple. Who knew.

End notes: Did it get deep and reflective at the end there? Maybe? Nah, just a means to round this filth up properly, I guess.

I hope this marks the end of my tentacle/snake/squid sex adventure series! I honestly have to learn how to write "normal" again!

If you, dear reader, are, however, curious about my other most depraved work, then let me direct you to A Special Kind of Bond, my previous creature smut adventure!

Oh, and if you didn't already know: I am no snake expert! And this is a work of fiction, so whatever that freckled little snake does is most definitely not typical snake behavior! I still did my research and googled things like “how do snakes move”, “what noises do snakes make” and even “snake penis” - and then I stopped trying to describe actual snake mannerisms! This is a magical snake that's also not real and only a figment of her imagination, okay?!

I was also greatly inspired by @tamayula-hl's smutty fanart of Ominis in his Animagus form (though my snake version is a lot smaller to cater to my depraved ideas of course!). I never considered snakes to be sexy, but this converted me!

And now I can only say: thank you for reading the filth that comes out of my dirty mind! I appreciate you very much! And I apologize, for everything!

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[theodorenottwhore]

Peace Treaty

➸ synopsis: offered as a treaty to Prince Regent Aemond to ensure the peace over the realm, you are bound to consummate your marriage in the eyes of the Small Council and your family.

➸ word count: 3.3k

➸ warnings: 18+ mdni! Dark!Aemond, DUB-CON at some point, they like each other though, Strong niece!Reader, targcest, incest, smut, p in v, reader has long brunette hair, mean aemond, creampie & breeding, humiliation, dacryphilia, oral (F! Receiving), hair pulling, degradation, public bedding ceremony (there are witnesses), doggy style, possessive & obsessive Aemond, virginity loss. English isn’t my first language.

➸ an: welcome to my republishing era! Starting with my favorite fic ever, you’ll see a few new sentences that I adored and had to just add it to show Aemond’s intense desire for his niece more, but all in all, the good old peace treaty is yours once more! Enjoy, and reblog and tell me your opinions! Your support is most appreciated<3 devider by @firefly-graphics

“I am so sorry, sweet girl.” Your mother says, holding you close as you both look into the mirror.

“Whatever for, Mother?”

You rest your hands on hers, watching her holding her tears back. You have been used to this sight; having the Queen of the realm crying in your presence. It’s been a long journey for all of you, and now, having The Greens agree to this treaty should have been a joyous day.

But it is not when you have to part from your family.

“For sending you into the arms of those snakes,” she hisses, putting her chin on your shoulder, and smiling sadly at the beautiful wedding gown that you are wearing. 

She remembers quite well how the young you have always dreamed about your wedding day; a fluffy dress with a golden crown and ten handmaidens walking behind you as your father (Ser Laenor) walked you down to the Sept. How she wished it could have been that way — to let you marry for love, explore the world and find the right person for you, and not having to trade you like a piece of clothing for the good of the realm.

“I like him a bit, you know,” you start, twirling the ring on your finger, “we were each other’s only friends. We share fond memories together,”

“I know, sweet girl. But he-he—“

“Don’t say it. Never say it,” you hiss at her, looking at her reflection. 

She looks broken; losing one of her sons and handing her only daughter in a silver plate to the slayer of him. It makes the strongest person crumble, and you are more than grateful to have your mother alive and breathing next to you. You have come so far, there is no way you would doubt your mother’s actions — it is for the best.

“He will be gentle,” you try to reassure your mother, but it comes out more like a plea and wish to yourself.

“He doesn’t deserve you, even if he is gentle with you,”

“In your eyes, no one deserves me, Mother,” you tease her, matching her sorrowful grin as you stare at each other.

She has already unpinned your hair, letting the last few remain in case your husband wishes to take them off himself. You have been given a long but very see-through nightgown that leaves little to the imagination — another shameless request from Alicent.

The first would be the public ceremony; given your mother’s reputation, it would only be wise requesing it. After all, you’re a gem being tossed into her favorite son’s hands. Only the best for Aemond Targaryen.

“I wish it did not come to this,” she whispers, sucking in a sharp breath when she hears the door being pushed open.

“Princess,” Alicent acknowledges, nodding her head at the two of you, smiling softly at you when she sees you in your nightgown and the necklace Aemond has given you two days prior — a dragon-shaped Valyrian steel with a sapphire eye as if he wanted to mark his territory.

“When will this thing start?” Your mother asks, standing in front of you protectively.

“In a few minutes, Rhaenyra. I came here to have a moment with my sweet good-daughter,” She looks at you, his lips formed into a forced smile.

“It’s not granted. Whatever you wish to discuss should be done in my presence,” your mother declares and grabs hold of your hand.

“I was merely going to praise her beauty and how fortunate Aemond is to have such a lovely bride,” Alicent clears her throat, hands itching from how harshly she has been biting the skin around her nails, “He has been asking for your hand since you have come off age, princess,”

“That is very sweet of him,” you reply, squeezing your mother’s hand while you smile at the Dowager Queen.

“If I were to notified of how horrible he treats my daughter—“

“Mother, please,” you cut her off, giving her a pleading look to stop, “Aemond is not a bad person,”

“A bad person? He is a kinslayer, he has murdered your brother in cold blood! How soon you forget—“

“I have not! How can I when everywhere I go people whisper about Luke behind my back?! All I wish to tell you is that do not make me more miserable than I already am.” You raise your voice slightly, stepping away from Rhaenyra to catch a glimpse of your reflection for the last time — you look dull, even if your handmaiden has applied some color to your lips to bring some life to your face.

“He is nothing like your father, Nyra.” Alicent utters, gazing into her hands, “he shall be a good husband and a much better father.”

“I can not do anything to prevent that, can I?” Rhaenyra scoffs, rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands.

A soft knock on the door alerts you, and you know very well what it means — showtime.

“Your graces, it is time to join the small council in Prince Aemond’s chambers.” A maid announces, bowing her head before she turns and steps beside the door to let the Queens leave.

Your mother approaches you one last time, pecking the side of your head before she is forced to leave you with watery eyes. You send them a forced smile, clutching the fabric of your nightgown as you wait for the maid to tell you everyone is present to lead you to his room.

She is patient with how you walk, trailing behind you as she checks your clothes one last time, nodding sympathetically before she disappears down the hallway.

You push the door open, glancing at the setting of his room for the night — all the council is seated; Otto Hightower, Grand Maester Orwyle, Jason Lannister, Jasper Wylde and when you look better, you see your mother and Daemon at the front row with Jace next to him. Alicent is sitting at the last row, not wishing to watch such a sin close by even if it was her own idea to request a public bedding.

Aemond stands tall and proud with a cold look on his face while he scans the audience with his good eye, turning his attention to you when you close the door behind you, walking past the sheer curtains your mother begged to put there to give you a sort of privacy.

“Ābrazȳrys,” wife. 

He fights back a satisfied grin as soon as his eye falls on your body, licking his lip at the sight in front of him; you are beautiful, bastard or not, he has always found you a pretty girl. And now as you approach him with those big doe eyes and an aura of purity around you, he knows he is doomed before he starts.

After all, it had taken years to convince his sister to give in to his whim and take you as his bride — as always, the fear he awakens in others gives him the upper hand.

“Valzȳrys,” husband.

You step toward him, trying to ignore the various eyes on your body as you stand in front of your husband. He is still in his earlier clothing, his dark green doublet hugging his toned figure beautifully. He is truly the image of a charming prince, even if he has lost an eye.

He reaches forward, running the back of his hand on your cheek as he gazes at you, noticing the subtle blush on your cheeks and neck. You put your shaky hands on his chest, standing on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss on his scarred cheek.

His demeanor changes completely the moment he pulls out your last hair pins, letting the long curls of your brunette hair fall around your shoulders, grabbing you by the hair and smashing his lips to yours, tasting the sweet flavor of the wine you had earlier in the feast. He is rough, demanding, and impatient — he has waited too long for this. Every second is a treasure he has been haunting for years. He has it now and will have it until his remaining days, and he has no intention of letting it go to waste.

You can’t keep up with his pace as he devours your lips — sucking, biting, and nibbling all along — and grabs a hold of your waist in his large hands. He turns the two of you around, guiding you back to the bed. He chuckles lowly into your mouth when you tremble to kiss him back. 

He breaks the kiss, nuzzling his face into your neck as he bites down on your neck harshly, pulling a sudden whimper out of you.

“Kepus,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, “Wha-what should I do?”

“Do not talk unless you are screaming my name,” he grumbles in your ear, “your voice is mine to hear. You are fucking mine now. My property, my queen. I will protect you, unlike how your mother sold you away as soon as I threatened her darling Jacaerys,”

You gasp when he pushes you on the bed, kneeling on the floor before he grabs your thighs and pulls you to the edge. He hikes your dress up to your hips, revealing your white lacy underwear to his hungry eye.

You don’t have enough time to ponder over what he said, to think if it were any truth to his words, because he is already sick in the head from how crazy he is for you. He rips your underwear off your body, prepping your inner thighs with kisses and bites, humming at the feel of your pillowy thighs around his neck.

His lips are sealed to your flesh, drawing whispers of pleasure on the canvas of your body, leaving the memories of his lips’ sinful movements carved on you.

Your head snaps towards the sound of someone cleaning their throat, but Aemond is faster than you and catches Jace looking horrifyingly at you.

“Do I need to murder another Strong to get you to shut the fuck up?” Murmurs of apologies and an angry scoff from Daemon is enough for your husband to bring his attention back to the task at hand. 

You suck in a sharp breath, holding his gaze as he presses a kiss to your clit, smirking slightly at how putty you are in his hold and how drenched you are just for him. If he wasn’t a man of integrity, he would have spent himself in his pants in a second.

You are everything he has ever dreamt of; warm, wet, sweet, and simply irresistible, and now, you are his. He sucks on the bundle of nerves, giving you a new sense of pleasure that you have never experienced before. He licks a stripe, drawing different patterns on your folds and clit before he pushes his tongue inside your heat, groaning like a madman.

You, on the other hand, have a hard time keeping your voice down, biting your hand to prevent the sounds you make when he is fucking his tongue inside you. As if on cue, he pushes a finger inside you, catching you off guard — it wasn’t appropriate for a princess to indulge in such deprivation, and your mother has asked your Septa to only tell you about the consummation and not the pleasure that could the act bring upon women.

How ironic of her to keep the desire she so indulged in her youth hidden from her own daughter.

You arch your back as he pushes yet another digit inside you, scissoring you open quickly to let your untouched walls get accustomed to the stretch. His resistance is running thin, and he can not wait to get to feel your warm cunt around his cock. His thin lips do their magic between your legs, tightening the knot that has been forming ever since he kissed you, bringing you something you have never felt before.

He smirks to himself, hearing your muffled whines and moans in pleasure. How obedient his princess is, doing exactly as he demands. You will make a fine queen by his side, carrying his heirs and spares, giving him a daughter just like you with Strong features. He would enjoy watching you nursing his children, swollen and barely able to walk with how gracefully your body has taken his seed — full and ripe with the fruits of his obsession.

Oh, how he loves you.

You fist the bedsheets, moaning his name loudly as the knot finally breaks, a rush of blinding bliss fills your nerves and all your mind can think about is him. Your body spasms, legs closing around his neck, not caring if he can breathe or not and it doesn’t seem as if he cares either. He would die a happy man if he was suffocated within your thighs.

He laps up your release greedily, letting out another hum as he drinks you up, his eye finding your blissful face as you try to push him away while he keeps assaulting your swollen clit. But those fools of the council are waiting for the main course — and how can he not just show your sweet bastard of a brother how beautifully you can take his cock?

You lay on the bed, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. You can’t bring yourself to ask him anything, your brain is mushed and exploded by the high you experienced. Suddenly, it sinks inside you that now you have to endure the real bedding that has been discussed for months.

Aemond stands up, staring down at you with a certain smugness that only feeds his ego. He has made you come, your first orgasm, and fuck, your face will be carved in his head for years — so innocent and wholesome, and all because of him.

He unlaces his breeches, chuckling at your wide eyes as you watch him stroke himself to full hardness. He knows you have nothing to compare him to, but you know it will be painful just by glancing at his manhood.

“On all fours, Nādrēsy,” bastard.

He can care less about how humiliating it is for you, you are his to play with, and if he wants you on your hands and knees, you will do as he asks. You shudder under his cold gaze, slowly turning around to get on all fours when he stops you by a hand on your hip.

“Face the audience, love. These old cunts can use a good memory to jack off to later,” He says, roughly turning you around so you are face to face with none other than your mother. You look away immediately, feeling your tears streaming down your cheeks as Aemond kneels behind you, lining up the fat tip of his cock with your soaked entrance.

The whimper you let out is nothing but music to his ears when he sheathes himself inside you slowly, allowing you to feel every ridge and throb of his cock, and for him to enjoy the unbelievable feeling of your walls enveloping him like a glove.

“Fuck, so tight,’ he groans, nails digging into your hips, keeping your body up as he bottoms out finally, humming and sighing in pleasure, “nothing feels better than a freshly opened cunt.”

You press your face into the mattress, the burn of shame is eating you alive, but you don’t have enough time to duel on it when Aemond starts moving in and out of you, picking up his pace to fuck you faster, harder and much rougher than he did with his fingers.

The stretch is painful, and you have never felt this full — you can feel him prodding your maidenhead, fucking the last remains of dignity out of you as he takes you roughly while you are on display to your family’s eyes.

He is high on your cunt. There is truly nothing compared to how glorious it feels to fuck the woman you have been pinning and yearning for. He loves that he can be mean to you, drilling his cock into your tight cunt with abandon as if he loathes you, and yet, he doesn’t think he has ever been this in love. He would have to confront you about that later, about this damning spell of love you have put him under.

He sees Rhaenyra closing her eyes, clutching Daemon’s hand to cope with the scene in front of her, and Aemond knows he can not miss his chance to show his authority over his half-sister and her bastards — one of them being his now.

He grabs you by the hair, pulling at the roots of your hair while he hammers his cock into you, hitting a spot that makes you dizzy and screaming in pleasure and pain. He smirks cruelly, leaning down slightly to bite on your skin.

“Look at your mother, sweet girl,” he whispers, kissing your tears away as he thrusts inside you harshly, “see how easily you have been thrown away? It is me who will take care of you, protect you even from your mother.”

“K-Kepus!” “That’s it, my sweet Strong bastard, prettiest slut,” he barks out a laugh when he sees Rhaenyra’s furious eyes, looking at you, watching how her brother gives you a pleasure only a man can dream of giving to his lady wife, “once I kill Aegon, I will be crowned king, and you, my queen. Your mother will be stripped of her titles, and our child will sit on the throne. And that’s–hmm, gods you feel divine–and I’ll show you what a real Targaryen offspring looks like.”

The burn of humiliation of his words only adds to the unending arousal you feel, but it is nothing compared to how he is taking you; him fully clothed, and you are barely covered with the thin nightgown draped over your body. It is useless though, with how your tits bounce back and forth, you can only imagine how filthy and whorish you look.

Just what he wants, just what he needs…

You cry out when he grabs your jaw, forcing you to look into your mother’s eyes as your second peak washes over you, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You clamp down on his girth, causing him to lose control over himself, cutting the last threads of his sanity.

The beast is unleashed, and he straightens up his back and fucks you with nothing but determination. He is close, and you are already lying limp beneath him with your pretty tears and a pout on your lips that he aches to kiss away. He will have plenty of time to do that, but now, all he can focus on is to fill you up and breed you like you deserve. He closes his eye, muffling the growl he is about to let out when he comes, shooting his thick cum inside your womb, keeping his cock deep inside you so as to not waste even a single drop.

When he opens his eye, he sees his half-sister’s shaky hands, giving him enough reassurance that his wish is fulfilled. He wants to laugh, to mock, and make you cry more just to toy with your mother but before anything, you are his wife now.

“Get the fuck out now, or I will behead you at once,” he shouts, pulling himself out of you slowly, watching as his seed dribbles out of your gaping hole. He glares at whoever looks at you, grinning at Rhaenyra when she tries to reach for you but Daemon pulls her out of the room before Aemond loses his temper.

“Oh, my sweet wife,” he says, flipping you on your back, gripping your nightgown in his fist before he rips it to pieces, leaving you bare under him, “the realm be damned, you and I will not leave this chamber until I am sure you are with child.”

[theodorenottwhore]

— summary: Rafe loves to make you cry and beg.

— warnings: smut! 18+ mentions of alcohol and cocaine, mean!rafe, dom!rafe, sub!reader, humiliation kink (maybe? idk he makes reader beg him to go fuck her in front of a shit ton of ppl), thigh riding (with ppl watching), fingering, fem receiving oral, edging, spanking, unprotected sex, degrading names (slut, whore), praise.

likes, comments n reblogs are appreciated.<3

❥ beg for it, princess — r.c

You had been very open with Rafe about the things you wanted him to do to you, with you. You’ve never hidden a kink from him, and he never hid any from you.

Rafe very quickly showed you just how willing he was to please you, he’d do absolutely anything to make his princess happy, and you would do anything for him, even if that meant letting him put you in the most painful situations, humiliate you, make you feel like a worthless slut.

For him, you’d gladly be his worthless slut, because at the end of the day, you knew he loved you. He’d do the most disgusting things to you, calling you the most degrading names while also praising you, telling you how fucking good you were doing for him.

And then, when he was done using you, he’d take care of you — Putting you in the bath and cleaning you, kissing the sides of you face and rubbing at your sore body, telling you how good you did for him. To you, it was all worth it.

You were his pathetic whore, but you were also his princess. And both were titles that you would gladly wear with a big fucking smile on your face.

-

You and Rafe are sat in the middle of a large, crowded room. His right arm is protectively wrapped around your waist, fingers digging into the exposed skin of your stomach, the thin crop top you’d chosen to wear tonight showing off just the right amount of your smooth skin.

Bringing your red solo cup to your lips, you take a small sip before resting your head on Rafe’s shoulder. He’s in the middle of a deal, a Kook by the name of Jaxon sat across from you and Rafe, trying to bargain with your boyfriend.

“C’mon man, just give it to me for $150. I promise, i’ll pay you back in two days” Jaxon says, his heavy eyes darting from Rafe’s ocean-blue ones and down to the cocaine on the table.

The corners of Rafe’s lips rise into a small amused smirk, and he rolls his head to the side, his pretty blue eyes finding yours. You lift your head to meet his intense stare, your lashes fluttering as you take another sip of your drink. “You know, Jax, i’m real into begging. Just ask Y/N. She’s always begging me to let her come, and that shits hot as fuck,” he pauses, making a tsking noise with his tongue and teeth, and your face all but turns a bright shade of red, head bowing as you bite at the rim of your cup, “But it’s just pathetic to see a grown ass man beg, especially when I know for a fact you can afford the asking price”

Jaxon’s eyes rise to look at you before they return to Rafe. He lets out a loud sigh, pulling his wallet from his back pocket and pulling out three crisp hundred dollar bills, slapping them to the table, “There. $300. Can I just have my shit now?”

Rafe smirks again, arching a brow before he releases a long breath. Rafe slowly grabs the money from the table, turning and shoving it into your black lace bra before he turns to face Jaxon again. “See, now was that so hard?” He chuckles when Jax rolls his eyes, then he moves and grabs one of the small tightly wrapped baggies, placing it between the tips of his index and middle fingers, hanging them toward Jaxon.

Jaxon yanks the small baggie from between his finger tips, letting out a huff as he moves to stand to his feet and storming away from the table. Once he’s gone, you turn and slap Rafe on the chest, a slightly annoyed and embarrassed look on your face. “Seriously? You had to drag me into that?”

Rafe laughs, turning his body to face you and wrapping his left hand around your body as well. You squeal when he uses both hands to pull you into his lap, forcing your legs to straddle either side of his hips. He leans forward, pressing his lips against yours in a heated kiss. He forces his tongue into your mouth, dominating yours instantly and making you moan into him.

Pulling away from your lips, you find yourself chasing his, an empty feeling washing over you from the loss of his lips. “You know it was funny, baby. Besides, my little slut loves to be humiliated”

You blush at the vulgar name he’s called you, but your pussy pulses, butterflies filling your stomach when you hear the name fall past his lips. As fucked up as it may sound, you did love when he humiliated you in front of people, you weren’t sure why, but it turned you on.

Rafe runs his hands down the small of your back, reaching your ass and tightly cupping it. Your hips buck forward and back arches when he begins softly massaging at the plump flesh of your ass. He slowly lifts your hips, placing you back down on his left thigh. He grabs your solo cup from your hand, downing what’s left in it and tossing it behind the two of you before his hands find your hips again.

His fingers find the waistband of your black denim shorts, shoving them down the front of them and running is fingers along the skin of your lower belly. A shiver runs through your body when you feel how close he gets to your panties and your legs tighten around his jeans-clad thigh. His eyes flick up to find yours, a smirk plastered on his lips when he sees how worked up he’s got you.

“Does my princess want to be fucked?” He asks, voice low and raspy as he pushes his fingers into the front of your lace panties.

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you open your mouth to speak but nothing except a soft, pathetic moan slips from your lips. Rafe removes his hand from inside your shorts, placing it back on your hips and pressing your pussy into his thigh, allowing your clit to gain the stimulation you were craving.

You begin whimpering as you rock your hips back and forth on his thigh, his hands gripping your hips and helping you move. “That’s it baby, ride my thigh. Let everyone see how fucking desperate you are for my cock”

Your heart begins pounding in your chest as you rub yourself against his thigh, the rough material of his jeans making your inner thigh tingle, the delicious pressure on your clit pulling moans from your mouth. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, licking and biting at his smooth skin as your hips continue to rock back and fourth, a pressure building inside of you, burning brightly and wanting to explode from you when the sounds of laughter fill your ears.

Panic washes over you when you lift your head and notice many sets of eyes on you and Rafe, peoples phones pulled out and pointed toward the two of you. For a moment, you’d forgotten that you weren’t alone, forgot you were in the middle of a large living room with all of your friends crowding it. You begin breathing heavily, tears stinging at your eyes as you hear the hushed whispers about you.

Rafe cups your face in his large hands, forcing your eyes on him as he whispers, “Fuck them” He pauses when you squeeze your eyes shut, letting the first few tears fall in embarrassment, but Rafe’s fingers squeezing your cheeks have you forcing them back open, “Hey, eyes on me baby. Let them know how badly you need to be fucked, beg me for it, and i’ll take you upstairs”

A whine falls from your forcefully parted lips, and you shake your head from side to side, wishing that the ground would just swallow you whole. You couldn’t deny it though, you were turned on. All of the eyes on you, even if they were judging you, it turned you on. You never understood why you loved the humiliation Rafe gave you, you should feel ashamed, you should hate him for putting you in positions like this, but you don’t. Instead, your pussy throbs with need, wanting to feel his cock buried inside you.

“Come on, baby girl. I know you want to. Beg me to fuck you, let them all hear how much of a needy whore you are for me”

He releases your face from his hands, allowing you to throw your head forward and into his neck. His hand slaps across your ass, making you cry out from the sting it left, and you finally lift your head, pleading eyes on his. “Please? Please Rafe, I need you to fuck me. Want to be your needy whore”

Rafe softly kisses the corner of your mouth, his eyes darting around the room at all of the eyes trained on you and him. His hands tightly grip at the bottom of your thighs, lifting you with him as he stands from the couch and whispering, “Such a good fucking girl. Gotta let everyone know who the fuck you’re a needy little slut for”

He carries you up a staircase and pushes into an empty bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him with his foot. He turns, slamming your back against the closed door, pinning you in place before his lips smash into yours. You open up for him, allowing him to deepen the kiss and force his tongue into your mouth. You moan into his mouth, rolling your hips against his waist, trying to relieve some of the pressure you felt between your legs.

Rafe breaks the kiss, but his lips still hover over yours. “Beg for it baby. Beg me to fuck you”

“Please..?” You whimper, the pressure between your legs growing. You were soaked. Pussy pulsing. You needed him, but you knew he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted unless you earned it. And the only way you’d earn it, was by being pathetic and begging him.

He chuckles, his darkened over eyes finding yours. “Please what, princess? Tell me what you need”

“Please fuck me. Need your tongue, your fingers, your cock. Please…? I’ll be a good girl, just want to come.. Please, Rafe?”

Tears begin to fill your eyes. You felt pathetic. Begging to be fucked. But you didn’t care, no. No you needed him, he was like a fucking drug that you couldn’t get enough of.

He walks you over to the large bed that’s in the room, sitting you on your ass at the edge and dropping to his knees. “God I love how fucking needy and pathetic you are f’me baby” He says as his fingers pop the button of your shorts. Your breath catches in your throat when he pulls the zipper down, his fingers dropping and running across the skin of your inner thighs.

“Rafe…”

He dips his head down, his lips leaving hot, open mouthed kisses on your inner thighs. You squirm, bringing your hands to the waistband of your shorts and pushing them down. His eyes find yours, amusement in his eyes. He swats your hands away, using his own to pull your shorts down your legs and tossing them behind him onto the floor.

His eyes land on your pink lace thong, his tongue darting out to lick across his bottom lip. “You’re soaked, princess” he coos. Your face turns a bright shade of red and you quickly bring your hands up, burying your face into them.

Rafe makes a tsking noise as he runs his tongue across his top teeth. His large hands come up to your small wrists, gripping at them softly and peeling them from your face. He brings them down to your sides before releasing them. His head dips down to your inner thighs, leaving another searing kiss to the skin. His hands grip at your thighs, pulling you further down the mattress and placing your shaking legs over his shoulders, pushing your panties to the side in the process. You suck in a sharp breath when you feel his lips trailing kisses from the inside of your thighs and to your pelvic bone.

“R-Rafe… Please?”

He smirks against your skin, letting out an airy laugh as his darkened over blue eyes find yours. “Please what? Gotta let me know what you want baby…” He says, trailing his words off as he leaves another kiss on the top of your pussy, his mouth inching closer to where you need him most.

“Your mouth. Your cock. I need you, Rafe. Please” You cry out. His teeth sink into the skin of your inner thigh, making you cry out in pain and pleasure as he sucks a deep purple bruise into the flesh.

He releases your flesh from his lips, licking the fresh, new bruise before he begins working his way up your thighs and to your aching cunt. He places a soft kiss on your weeping core. You suck in a shaky breath when his tongue finally licks through your folds. He licks from the bottom up to your clit, flicking his tongue over the swollen and sensitive bud. His tongue begins to slowly lick up and down your soaked core, over and over again, pulling the most pathetic but sweet whines from you.

Your fingers fly into his hair, tugging softly at the messy locks as you tighten your thighs around his head, locking him in place. His tongue doesn’t let up, he laps up your juices like a starved man as you continue to cry out his name, waves of pleasure rushing through your entire body. He takes his right hand and pushes your leg down onto the bed, his grip bruising. He runs his tongue up and through your folds again, reaching your clit and sucking the bundle of nerves into his mouth.

Moving his left hand from your leg, he snakes it between the two of you, running his thick fingers through your soaked folds before plunging his index and middle fingers inside of you. He curls them slightly, softly caressing that sweet spot inside of you that has your toes curling and tears falling past your bottom lashes. He creates a quick pace with his fingers, his mouth unrelenting as he continues to suck on your clit. You feel the fire burning inside of you, your release building and threatening to burst.

Your pussy clamps down around Rafe’s fingers, letting him know you’re close to the edge. He slows his fingers, stilling them inside of you and releases your clit from his lips with a pop, making you let out a frustrated whine. “Why’d you stop?!” You ask breathlessly, your head lifted just enough to find him staring up at you from between your legs. He has an amused smirk on his lips, his face and chin glistening with your arousal.

“Because, you’re gonna be a good girl and cum all over my cock”

You throw your head back in a huff, crossing your arms over your chest and pouting like a child whose parent told them they couldn’t get a treat at the grocery store. Rafe rises from his knees, his tall frame towering over you on the bed. He brings his right hand to caress your cheek before he slowly runs it down to your throat, his fingers wrapping around it and squeezing tightly, but not enough to take away your air. “Don’t be a fucking brat, or else you won’t cum tonight. Alright?”

You nod your head the best you can, tears spilling from your eyes from the ache you felt between your thighs and the pressure from Rafe’s hand around your throat.

He releases your neck and his hands fly to pop the button of his jeans before moving on to slide his zipper down. You watch him intently as he shoves the rough material down his legs, kicking them off to the side before he grips the hem of his baby blue polo and rips it up and over his head. Your mouth pools with saliva, the sight of Rafe’s shirtless body making you physically drool all over yourself.

He climbs on top of you, his left hand baring his weight while his right hand shoves his boxers down his legs. He grips the base of his cock in his right hand, stroking at it a few times before he slides his swollen head through your folds. You squirm underneath him, hips bucking forward as you silently pleaded with him to fuck you.

You open your mouth to beg some more, but your words die on your tongue, a loud gasp falling past your lips as he shoves himself inside you without warning. He slowly pulls himself out before harshly slamming back inside you, his pink tip kissing at that spot inside you that has you seeing stars. He watches intently as he pushes and pulls his cock from inside you, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. “You’ve already got a mess all over my cock baby girl. Fucking beautiful” He breathes out as he harshly slams his hips into yours again.

He pulls himself from inside you, his arms wrapping around your waist and flipping you onto your stomach has you squealing loudly. “On your hands and knees baby. Bring your knees to your chest, ass up in the air f’me”

You quickly do as he says, positioning yourself on all fours and tucking your knees up under your chest. A loud moan slips past your lips when Rafe’s hand slaps at your ass, the sting it left behind causing more tears to spill from your eyes. A dark chuckle emits from Rafe’s chest, “My girl loves when i’m rough with her, yeah?” Another slap. “I love making you cry” Another slap. “The sound makes my cock throb”

Tears stream uncontrollably down your face as Rafe continues to slap your ass, the sting bringing you an overwhelming amount of pain and pleasure. “Rafe, plea— Ah!”

Rafe shoves his cock inside you again, making your pleas die on your tongue. You fist the sheets beneath you, eyes rolling into the back of your head as Rafe pounds himself into you at a ruthless pace.

Your pussy clamps down around him, sucking him in deeper. Your loud cries bounce off the walls, and you’re sure the entire party can hear you, but you don’t care. It feels too fucking good to care. The pressure in your lower belly begins to build, a bright white light burns in the back of your eyes.

“You’re so close baby. You’re fuckin’ squeezin’ me so tight. Milk my fucking cock dry baby” Rafe rasps.

A string of curses and moans slip past your lips as your pussy clenches around him, the pressure building up and bursting free. Euphoria racks your body, your legs shaking and toes curling as you come undone around Rafe’s cock.

Rafe growls, leaning his body forward so his lips are brushing against the shell of your ear. “Such a good fucking girl, ‘m right behind- fuck!”

He slams into you one final time, his dick twitching as he fills your pussy with his cum. His teeth sink into your shoulder, pulling back he kisses the bite mark and whispers, “Did so fucking good f’me baby. Let’s get you home and cleaned up”

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