Aegon Targaryen - Lessons

Aegon Targaryen - Lessons

Summary - Aegon's High Valyrian lessons take a tempting turn when his wife, sensing his frustration, offers an irresistible incentive, for every correct answer, another piece of her clothing falls away, turning language practice into an enticing game of lust.

Pairing - Aegon Targaryen x reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!!), strong language

Word count - 2496

Masterlist for Aegon • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"Aegon, focus," I gently chided, placing the book on the settee beside him. He was already seated, but his gaze had wandered far from the pages.

"I can't," he admitted with a sigh, the frustration clear in his voice. "It's so difficult. I don't think I can learn any more." 

There was a sadness in his tone that tugged at my heart. I immediately softened, guilt pricking at me for being too harsh.

"Of course you can, my love," I said, my voice tender now. 

He was already wrestling with his own insecurities, haunted by the fear that he might never live up to the expectations placed upon him. The last thing he needed was for his wife, his one true sanctuary, to add to that burden.

He looked up at me, curiosity flickering in his eyes as I reached for the book again. "You just need... an incentive," I suggested, a playful edge creeping into my voice.

His interest piqued, and he leaned in closer. 

"What does naejot mean?" I asked, watching him closely.

He hesitated, his brow furrowing in concentration. "Um... forward?" he answered, though it sounded more like a question than a statement.

I pursed my lips, considering whether or not to correct him. Instead, I decided to let it slide.

"Yes," I said, smiling warmly as his face lit up with relief, though a small part of me noted that he wasn't entirely confident.

I placed the book in my lap and slowly, deliberately, reached behind my head to untie the ribbon holding my hair. I took my time, letting the ribbon slide through my fingers before my hair finally cascaded around my shoulders. 

His eyes widened slightly, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation flickering across his features as he inhaled the faint scent of lavender from my loosened hair.

He gave me a questioning look, but I waved him off. "What does zaldrizes mean?" I asked next.

This time, a confident smirk curled his lips. "Dragon," he answered, and I nodded approvingly.

"Perhaps you don't need an incentive after all," I teased, but he shook his head eagerly, clearly unwilling to give up whatever reward he imagined.

"Fine," I mused, standing up slowly. His eyes followed my every movement, and I could see the anticipation growing in his expression. "But just in case..." 

I began to slowly pull off one stocking, inch by inch, watching as his breath hitched slightly. He leaned forward, his gaze fixed intently on me.

"For every word or phrase you get correct, I'll remove a piece of clothing," I explained, my voice low, almost a purr. His eyes darkened with desire, and I saw his throat bob as he swallowed, his focus unwavering.

He leaned back on the settee, smug satisfaction evident in his expression. 

"Well, your ribbon shouldn't have counted as a piece of clothing," he pointed out, a hint of mischief in his voice.

I clicked my tongue in admonishment. "Hush or I'll only remove one stocking and make this last much longer," I warned, and he immediately raised his hands in surrender, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Let's continue, then," I said, resuming my seat. "What does lentor mean?"

He bit his lip, thinking hard. "Maybe... slow?" he guessed, but there was uncertainty in his voice, as though he wasn't sure if he was recalling it correctly.

I shook my head slowly, watching as disappointment flashed across his face. 

"Not quite," I murmured, toying with the edge of my gown. His eyes darted down to the fabric, but I didn't make a move to remove it yet.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. "I thought that was it."

"Patience," I soothed, leaning forward just enough to let my hair brush against his arm. "You'll get there." He nodded, though he still seemed frustrated with himself. 

"Try again," I encouraged. "What about drīvose?"

This time, his brow furrowed deeply. "All?" he asked, but his tone was more hesitant than ever.

I gave him a sympathetic smile, shaking my head. "No, love. It means 'actually.'"

He let out a soft groan, slumping back against the settee with an air of resignation. "I'm never going to get this right," he muttered, his frustration evident.

"Yes, you will," I insisted, my tone firm but gentle. 

I stood up again, slowly beginning to unlace the front of my gown. His eyes snapped to the movement, and I saw a spark of determination light up in his gaze.

"One more try," I offered, my voice soft as I let the laces loosen just enough to hint at what lay beneath. "What is 'all men must serve'?"

He hesitated, his eyes flicking between my fingers and the partially unlaced gown. "Valar dohaeris?" he ventured, his voice tinged with doubt.

I smiled, pleased this time. "Yes," I purred, slipping one shoulder free of the gown, allowing it to hang tantalizingly. His breath caught, and I saw the tension in his shoulders ease slightly.

"See? You're getting there," I encouraged, sitting back down as the gown slipped off fully revealing the sparse clothing I had left. His eyes were locked on me now, the earlier frustration fading as he focused on the incentive.

"Maybe we should always practice this way," he suggested his voice husky with need.

I laughed softly, shaking my head. "Ñuho glaeso hūrus," I said, presenting him with a phrase that I knew had tripped him up before.

His brows knitted together in concentration. "Something of my life," he offered, but his uncertainty was evident.

I sighed softly, a playful hint of disappointment in my expression. "Close, but not quite," I teased, my fingers brushing against the hem of my slip, causing his eyes to darken further with desire.

"But I was close, wasn't I?" he pressed, clearly eager to move forward.

"Close, but close doesn't count," I replied with a smirk, leaving the slip where it was, not offering any further reward just yet.

He groaned, rubbing his temples. "This is impossible."

"It's not," I reassured him, leaning in just enough to let my lips brush against his ear. "You just need to focus a little more."

He closed his eyes as he tried to recall the words. "Star?" he guessed, then shook his head. "No, moon?"

I nodded encouragingly as the slip glided off my body, leaving me in nothing but my small clothes. His eyes were practically devouring me now, but I could see the satisfaction in his gaze as well, knowing he had earned each step forward.

"One last phrase," I said, my voice soft and inviting. "If you get this right, you'll have earned your full reward."

He nodded, his focus entirely on me now.

"North, east, south, and west," I prompted, knowing this set of words had always been a challenge for him.

His expression fell for a moment, the directions always causing him grief. But he took a deep breath, determination shining in his eyes. 

"Jelmor," he began, and I nodded eagerly. "Ñāqon, Vẽzor, and..." He trailed off, a look of panic crossing his face as he struggled to remember the last word.

"Come on, my love," I urged softly. "You know this."  My fingers slipped just beneath the waistband of my small clothes, teasing him further.

"Endia!" he suddenly exclaimed, a triumphant smile breaking across his face.

I glanced at the book to confirm, then smiled warmly, the last of my clothing slipping to the floor. He grinned, the excitement in his eyes mirroring my own.

I tossed the book aside and moved toward him, straddling his lap as I rested my hands on his shoulders. My fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer as his hands moved to undress himself.

But I stopped him, placing my hands over his, holding them in place as he looked up at me, puzzled. 

"Avy jorrāelan," I murmured, my voice soft and full of affection.

A slow grin spread across his face, his eyes warm as he replied, "I love you too."

Only then did I let go, allowing him to remove his pants as I quickly undid his tunic. The reward had been hard-earned, but it was worth every moment of the struggle.

He began kissing down the curve of my neck, his lips warm and insistent against my skin. A soft moan escaped me as I started to grind against his lap, teasing him with the promise of what was to come.

"Now, Ñuhor līr gūrēnna," he growled, his voice thick with desire as he grabbed me firmly under my thighs. I will take what is mine.

In one fluid motion, he flipped us over with surprising ease, a quiet squeal of delight escaping my lips as I found myself beneath him. 

"Yes, you shall," I murmured back, my voice breathless with anticipation as his hands began their exploratory journey across my body. 

He leaned back slightly, hoisting me up toward him, his hands still firmly gripping my thighs as he positioned me just above his hard, twitching cock. The anticipation in his eyes was almost unbearable.

"Feels so much better when you've earned it," he gasped out, his voice a mixture of triumph and raw desire. 

As he guided me down onto him, I let out a soft gasp, my body trembling with pleasure. I nodded eagerly, unable to form words, lost in the sensation of him filling me.

He dipped his head into the crook of my neck, his breath hot against my skin as he began to move. His composure was slipping, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through us both. 

He set a steady pace, his control evident, but I could feel the tension building within him, the struggle to maintain that control.

After a few intense minutes, I couldn't resist any longer. My fingers tangled in his hair, playing with the strands in a way I knew drove him wild. His breath hitched, and he faltered for just a moment, the rhythm of his thrusts growing more erratic.

"You feel so good," he whispered in my ear, his voice hoarse with need. 

His words sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through me, and I clung to his shoulders for support. My walls squeezed around his cock, drawing a low chuckle from him. 

"Come on, my love," he groaned, his voice rough with desire. "Fuck me like I've earned it."

I met his gaze, my eyes dark with passion, and nodded as I began to move with him, matching his rhythm, giving him everything he had worked so hard for.

The room was filled with the raw, intimate sounds of our bodies coming together. 

Our moans and gasps mingled with the wet, rhythmic sounds of his cock driving in and out of me, the intensity of our passion echoing in every corner.

"Fuck, Aegon, yes... right there," I cried out, my voice trembling with need as he adjusted his angle. 

The head of his cock found that perfect spot deep inside me, and the pleasure was so intense it felt like stars were exploding behind my eyes. My body arched into him, desperate for more.

He gasped, his breathing ragged as his control began to slip. 

"I'm close," he managed to say, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. 

His hands tightened around my waist, gripping me like I was his lifeline as his thrusts grew increasingly desperate, the rhythm turning sloppy as he chased his release.

I could feel the tension building within him, his body trembling with the effort to hold on just a little longer. 

"Aegon, let go," I whispered, my voice soft but urgent as I encouraged him, my own body hurtling toward the edge. "I'm with you."

He groaned, the sound guttural and raw as he buried his face in my neck, his pace faltering. I moved with him, our bodies perfectly in sync as we rode the waves of pleasure together, the intensity overwhelming.

The heat between us reached its peak, and with one final, deep thrust, Aegon's body tensed, and I felt him shudder against me, his release spilling into me as he gasped my name. 

The sensation sent me spiralling over the edge, my climax crashing through me like a tidal wave. I cried out, my body trembling as the pleasure consumed me, every nerve alight with ecstasy.

For a moment, the world around us seemed to dissolve, leaving only the two of us entwined in the aftermath of our passion. I held him close, my fingers gently stroking his hair as we caught our breath.

After a while, I broke the comfortable silence, a playful glint in my eyes. "So, aren't I a good teacher?" I asked, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips as I teasingly ruffled his hair.

He laughed, the sound rich and warm, vibrating through both of our bodies. His fingers found mine, intertwining them with a gentle but firm grip. He lifted my hand to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my knuckles. 

"The best," he murmured, his eyes sparkling with affection as he looked at me. "Your methods are rather... motivating."

"Perhaps I should start teaching others, then," I teased, my tone light and mischievous as I watched his reaction.

His playful expression faltered for a moment, and he tutted, shaking his head in mock disapproval. A possessive glint flashed in his eyes as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. 

"Not with those methods, you aren't," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. "Those are strictly reserved for me."

I couldn't help but smile, feeling a rush of affection for him. 

"Oh, is that so?" I teased back, arching an eyebrow as I pretended to consider his words. He nodded, his expression serious despite the humour dancing in his eyes. 

"Absolutely," he confirmed, pulling me even closer, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips. "I'm not sharing this with anyone. You're mine."

His words, though spoken in jest, carried an undercurrent of sincerity that made my heart skip a beat. I could see the love and devotion in his gaze, the same feelings that mirrored in my own heart. 

"And you're mine," I whispered back, leaning in to brush my lips against his in a soft, lingering kiss.

The kiss deepened slow and tender, a gentle reminder of the connection we shared. When we finally pulled away, we were both smiling, the world outside our little cocoon fading further into the background.

I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as his fingers continued to play with mine. 

"You know," I mused, "if this is how our lessons go, I think I'll need to give you a lot more of them."

He chuckled, the sound low and content. "I think I'll need them," he agreed, his voice a soft rumble in his chest. "After all, I'm a very eager student when you're the one teaching."

We lay there in comfortable silence, our bodies still intertwined. There was no need for words; the connection between us spoke volumes.

All that mattered was this moment, this closeness, and the knowledge that we belonged to each other, in every possible way.

A/n - Another fav, this was so fun to write asw (the idea came to me from a movie I seen years ago called 'Loser') 😭😭

hii I wanted to please request a fic where Aegon is very needy with the reader, he just follows her around the castle, always finding excuses to touch her skin or kiss her, and please make him sleep hugging her with his head on her breasts and clinging to her waist like she was a teddy bear because is he so desperate to be as physically close to her 😭

i really believe this is so intensely accurate to how he would be, like he’s just a needy lil baby 🥺 this is formatted as a drabble!

needy | aegon ii targaryen

pairing: aegon targaryen x fem!reader

warnings: none!

────── ☾ ──────

“I’ve already been reprimanded for interrupting council meetings twice now,” you pleaded, but his grip from behind on your waist was unbreakable.

“I don’t care, I’m the king, just come,” Aegon begged.

“You must attend to your duties, Aegon, we will only be apart for a few hours.”

“But that is much too long,” he pouted, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I have a much better use of my time than sitting in those stupid council meetings,” he said.

“That is too bad, Your Grace,” you responded.

“Fine,” Aegon huffed, releasing your waist and stepping in front of you to place a soft kiss on your lips.

Aegon had already broken protocol to have you in council meetings twice, pulling you onto his lap as the members of the council tentatively spoke of allegiances and war strategies that were not intended for your ears.

After a long day of strategizing and stress, the Targaryen-Hightower family gathered for the grand supper that Alicent called for each night, despite Aegon’s protestations.

Aegon adjusted your chair so that it was nearly touching his. While they sat and spoke before food was served, he absentmindedly twirled a strand of your hair around his fingers.

After everyone had finished eating, Aegon placed his hand on your thigh, and would not budge. You tried to move it, worried of being inappropriate, but you knew it was a battle you would ultimately lose. He rubbed small circles against your leg, partially to work you up, but mostly because he was incapable of leaving you alone.

This was not unusual for Aegon. He always had to be touching you in some capacity, and he always had to be around you.

When he was unoccupied with his political endeavors, he often followed you around the castle like a lost puppy, waiting for you to sit so he could sit pressed against you and attempt to win your attention. If you were focused on anything else, Aegon wrapped as much of his body as he could around you, reminding you that he was there, and he wanted attention.

Aegon hated it when you left, especially if he was unsure of exactly when you would return. It was no fun when you were gone, and he felt cold and alone without your warm presence near.

You and the Dowager Queen were invited to dine in the Iron Islands as a gesture of good tidings from House Greyjoy, without risking pulling the men away from their work.

“I promise I will return before dark,” you told Aegon, holding his face in your hands.

He held your wrists, keeping them against him as he pleaded, “that is a long ways away, please, just stay here.”

“It is only a mere few hours,” you said, but Aegon wasn’t budging.

“I miss you after a mere few hours. Besides, that young Greyjoy lord most certainly has an eye for you.”

“You do not have anything to worry about,” you assured him, “my heart belongs to you and you alone.”

“So allow it to remain here with me tonight.”

“It is only one supper, and it will mean much to House Greyjoy if I attend.”

Aegon sighed. “I’m sure it will.”

You sighed in return. You knew Aegon was possessive over you, and did not trust other men around you, but you were committed to him. “Please, Aegon.”

Aegon stuck his lower lip out in a hyperbolic pout. “Only because you asked so nicely.”

You smiled and placed a kiss on his lips before departing.

You did not mind Aegon’s neediness. He never had such genuine love and affection before, and you could not fault him for never wanting to be a moment without it. You adored being the one he sought out for comfort. You loved being his anchor. You loved him more than anything, and knowing there was a side of him reserved especially for you made your heart swell.

It sometimes got overstimulating or a little too much, especially when you truly needed a moment of space to take care of something and he simply would not leave, but you never got angry with him. Despite his cold exterior, deep within, Aegon was still a scared, lonely little boy who desperately wanted attention and understanding.

So, naturally, when you returned after dark, later than you promised, Aegon was hurt. He took it as a personal offense.

“You said you would return before dark. You promised.” His voice was small and meak.

“I know, I apologize, your mother and I lost track of time,” you tried to explain.

Aegon remained laying on his side, not even looking at you, as he pulled the duvet even higher on his body.

“Did you forget about me?” he asked, so low it was nearly a whisper, and you would have missed it if you weren’t watching him so intently.

“No, no, never,” you said, changing your clothes quickly and sliding into bed next to him, “absolutely not.”

You began to rub small circles on his arm to alert him that you were there, and he rolled around to face you.

“The entire time, I only wanted to return home to you. We truly just did not realize the late hour.”

Aegon did not respond, but simply searched your eyes with his own, looking for any indication that you were lying, but he found none.

“Come here,” you said, holding out your arm.

Aegon rested his head on your breasts, wrapping his arms and legs around your waist as tight as he could, clinging to you and ensuring as much of your bodies were touching as was possible.

“I missed you,” Aegon said, content now that he was getting the physical touch he was so desperate for all night.

“I missed you too, Aegon,” you said, softly stroking his hair, coaxing him into sleep.

“Can I sleep on you?” he asked.

“Of course,” you answered, unable to move him even if you wanted to.

My Safe Heaven (Aegon II Targaryen)

Aegon II Targaryen x F!Reader

Summary: You were a servant girl of the Red Keep, who caught the older prince's eye.

Warning: 18+ There will be smut, mention of sexual assault, mention of death.

Note: I hope it came out good!

"You have asked for me, my Prince?"

Aegon turned to the female voice that spoke once you stepped into his chambers.

You, a servant girl was holding a tray with wine. She was indeed pretty, he thought.

He saw you when he went to the wine cellar. He never seen you before. He would have remembered, surely. So when he asked about you, he was told of your name.

So he wanted to take you tonight.

"Yes," he said, clearing his throat, "Pour me some wine, will you?"

You frowned slightly but did as told. You placed the tray on the table and poured some wine into the goblet. You turned and walked toward him, and handed him the goblet and hesitated as you watched him drink.

"Is there anything you wish to speak of?"

The Prince pulled the goblet away from his lips and looked at you in confusion, "Speak of what?"

You blushed a little, and bowed lightly, "I apologize, I have seen this look before many times, so I assumed you wanted to say something."

Aegon smirked slightly with amusement, "And why would I want to sure with you my worries and thoughts? Does anyone in my family does it with you?"

You held your head high, "Your mother, the Queen." Aegon raised his eyebrow in surprise. "Ser Criston Cole does. Your sister-wife does."

"And what of my brother, Aemond?" Aegon asked with slight amusement.

"He does not," You answered, "But he is nice, and not as cold as everyone say he is."

Aegon hummed and stepped closer to you, "What do you think of me? Do you think I can be nice to you as well?"

You weren't surprised or afraid from how close he was getting. You simply took the goblet from his hand, "Perhaps if you would drink wine less, you would worry the Queen less."

Aegon stared at you, stunned by your boldeiness. You walked back to place the goblet on the tray and let out a breath. You shouldn't be speaking like that, what are you thinking?! your mind screamed at you.

You turned to him and he continued to stare at you. But you noticed that his eyes grew angry, it was like looking at--

You let out a breath again, "I apology my Prince. I have a bad past with drunk people."

"I don't care," Aegon said as he moved closer to you, his chest inches from yours. "Remember your place, girl. Next time, I will have your head on a spike. I hope I am clear."

You lowered your eyes, "Yes, Your Grace."

"Leave the wine here, and go."

You moved away and bowed before leaving the chambers. Aegon glared at the door before moving to grab the goblet to pour some more wine.

He paused for a moment before placing the goblet down on the tray with a groan.

---

Aegon hadn't seen you since that evening, which was two days after. He didn't knew why he was searching for you every time he saw servants around.

You were just a servant who didn't knew how to held her tongue. And since he complained to his mother, perhaps she got rid of you.

But for some reason, since that evening, Aegon had hardly drunk any wine that was served to him. Which pointed out by Aemond. That annoying girl got to me, he thought with annoyance when he wanted to tell him what happened but then stopped himself.

He crushed himself for thinking about your sad eyes when they met his angry ones.

He was annoyed at himself for even thinking about you.

But after another two days, he decided to speak to his mother about you. So when he stepped into his mother's chambers, he was surprised to see you there, helping his mother with her dress.

"Aegon," Alicent said as she stepped off from the small chair, looking at her older son with surprise.

You bowed to him but didn't make any eye contact with him, which for some reason again, it annoyed him. He looked at Alicent, "Mother."

"I'm surprised to see you here, in my chamber," Alicent said, "Is everything alright?"

"Yes..." he said, "I just, uh, it seems that Helaena needs you, so I decided to come and tell you myself."

Alicent frowned in concern, "Is she alright?"

No idea, he wanted to say. "She is. She just asking for you."

"All right," Alicent said and looked at you, "Thank you dear, you may leave now."

"Yes, Your Grace," You said and bowed to her and Aegon before quickly leaving.

Aegon pulled himself to the door before he could think, "Wait." You turned to him and darted your eyes down to the floor. Aegon hesitated and cleared his throat, "Bring me some wine to my chambers."

You hesitated but bowed and walked away.

You brought the wine to the Prince's chambers just like he asked, and pored some into the goblet when he walked inside and closed the doors.

He watched you walking closer and handed the goblet to him without making eye contact. He drunk the wine and handed it back to you.

He watched you walking to the tray and he cleared his throat. "Hold it," he said when he saw you were about to pour another. You turned to him in confusion and now you were looking at him.

"There is a feast this evening, so help me get ready," he said, clearing his throat.

"Your Grace?" You asked with confusion. "I don't think I--"

"I'm your Prince, right?" Aegon asked, and you nodded with hesitation, "So, I want you to help me get ready."

You hesitated but nodded lightly, "Would you like me to drew you a bath, Your Grace?"

Aegon nodded, "Yes."

You nodded and walked to his bathroom to fill his bath. Aegon glanced to the bathroom where he could see you. He slowly started to pull his clothes off of him as he slowly walked toward the room.

You glanced toward him but then away when you saw him naked. You cursed yourself and looked down. You bowed to him and turned to leave when he got inside.

"Wait."

You paused and turned to him but kept your eyes down. He wasn't looking at you either, "Stay here with me."

You hesitated but did as was asked. You looked around the room and Aegon darted his eyes to you, "What you said before..."

You turned to him and looked only at his face. "About having a bad past with drunk people..." he said, "What happened?"

"I don't think you will be interest in this, Your Grace," You said.

"Try me," Aegon challenged.

You looked at his face for a moment before you stepped closer and slowly sat next to the bath. You took a deep breath before explain, "I lived with my parents and older sister until I was seven. My father was a drunker and an abusive man, he was a failure as a father, and as a husband. One evening, my parents had a horrible fight... and he hit her, that badly it killed her moments after."

You tilted your head back and darted your eyes toward him to see him staring at you intensively. You glanced down at your hands, "And then... he turned his anger at my sister, who was 14... he hit her..." You looked at him, "And then he did more than that."

Aegon's eyes slight grew, and you looked down. "She screamed at me to run. So I did. I left my home, and came to the Red Keep when I was 14. The Queen knows about my past."

"So how come I haven't seen you before?" Aegon asked.

You smiled a little sadly, "I was trying to not get your attention. After what I heard... I didn't want to be like my sister. Or like the other maids and servants here."

Aegon looked away from you for a moment before looking back, "Then why did you came that evening when I called for you?"

You thought for a moment before looking back at your hands, "Well, I can not say no to the Prince... but I also wanted to see if what my gut tells me is true."

"About?"

"That you are not horrible like they say you are," You said softly as you looked at him.

Aegon stared at you for a moment with surprise. You looked back down at your hands. Aegon blinked and cleared his throat as he looked away. "You may go now to my bed chamber," he said and you looked at him, "I'll be alright here."

You nodded slowly and got up. You bowed and walked out of the bathroom.

---

After you helped the Prince get dressed for the feast, you had left to do your duties at the kitchens. But as the evening continued on, a maid approached you with a sad expression.

"Y/n, Prince Aegon wants you in his chambers," she said quietly for only you to hear.

"What, he already left the Throne room?" You asked.

The maid nodded, "Yes, and... he's drunk."

You paused and let out a soft sigh. You nodded and walked passed her to the doorway.

You walked down the hallways and soon enough reached Aegon's chambers. You knocked on the door and waited a moment before opening it and stepping in.

Aegon was in the middle of the room, trying to take off his jacket. "My Prince," you said as you bowed and closed the door.

Aegon turned to you, clearly he was indeed drunk and smiled, "Y/n. Mind helping out?"

You walked closer and helped him get out from his jacket and shirt. You quickly replaced his top with a loose, white bedshirt. Aegon chuckled and he let you led him to the bed and he sat there.

"Give me some more wine."

You paused, "I am afraid I can not, my Prince," you said and grabbed the blankets, "I think you drank enough."

"You can't tell me what to do, or how many wine I can drink," Aegon said, pouting like a child, "I haven't drunk much since I met you."

"Good," you muttered and nodded for him to lay down, "Please, lay down on the bed."

Aegon smirked, "Are we going to fuck now?"

You rolled your eyes, "No, my Prince. You going to sleep."

Aegon groaned but pushed himself into his bed, and you pulled the blankets up.

You blow up a few candles and was about to blow the last one which was next to the bed. "Stay here," Aegon asked softly as he grabbed your wrist.

You sighed softly, "My Prince, we--"

"Just, stay here," Aegon said softly, and you stared down at him with a tilt of your head. "I don't wish to be alone tonight."

Your slight annoyed look turned sympathy. You looked at him for a moment before nodding slightly. Aegon slid aside, and tagged on your wrist. You hesitantly sat on the bed and moved to propping yourself against the various pillows.

You were startled as Aegon placed the side of his head on your chest. You took a breath to calm yourself.

"Tell me why?" he muttered as he wrapped his arm around your stomach.

"Why what, My Prince?" you asked softly.

"Why does everyone hate me?"

You froze by those words and without realizing, you started to slowly and softly brush your fingers on his hair.

"It's what my mother used to do for me," you muttered. Aegon let his eyes slowly close, feeling relaxed by your soft touches. You glanced down at him, "And no one hates you."

"My family does," he muttered.

You shook your head lightly, "No. They don't." You debated if you should admit you don't either, so you admitted, "And neither do I, My Prince."

None of you spoke after that, but you felt him tightening his grip on you.

----

Weeks had past.

Every evening, Aegon would seek you, and the two of you would be spending time together inside the Prince's chambers.

But nothing happened between you two besides talking about how your day went. You the one who started that after that night of the feast, when you started to ask how was his day and if he wanted to speak of it more.

Having you around, coming every evening to spend the time with him, asking him how was his day, and listening to how he was, made Aegon feel something. He felt like you cared for him.

You could easily say no for coming over, he told you that, but you still coming. You sit by him, you brushes your fingers through his hair to help him fell asleep.

You were also keeping an eye on his drinking limits.

You became his friend.

His only friend.

Ever since he met you, he hasn't gone to the brothels or went after the female servants, which Alicent was informed of. She was highly surprised and delighted by it.

She didn't knew why. But she hoped that it would continue this way.

However, she was informed that there was one female servant that was keeping Aegon company.

You.

So, the Queen summoned you to her chambers one evening.

"Your Grace, you wanted to see me?" you asked as you bowed.

"Yes, I wanted to speak to you about something," Alicent said, "Come, sit." You sat next to her on the couch, and looked at your hands nervously. "I wanted to ask, if you are alright."

You looked at her and blinked. You nodded, "Um, yes, Your Grace. I am."

"Really?" the Queen asked, concerned, "Because if not, and my son has said not to tell me, you can."

You looked slightly confused, "No. Uh, nothing is wrong, Your Grace."

Alicent looked highly surprised, "Aegon hasn't... done anything to you?"

You shook her head, "No, Your Grace."

"I was told you going to his chamber every evening because he asks for you."

You hesitated but nodded, "Yes, Your Grace. We only sharing conversations."

Alicent's eyebrows rose up in surprise, "You and Aegon only having talks in his chambers? Every evening?"

You nodded, "Yes, Your Grace."

The Queen was surprised by this information, "But he isn't himself anymore... not that I miss that part of him."

You shrugged lightly.

Alicent had dismissed you and let you go back to your duties. You were asked to help with Aegon and Princess Helaena's twins.

Jaehaerys and Jaehaera were adorable and you enjoyed to spend time with them, and they with you. You were reading them a bedtime story, with Jaehaera lying her head on your chest while Jaehaerys was lying inside his crib.

When you saw that the twins were now asleep, you stood up quietly and placed Jaehaera in her crib. But when that happened, the little Princess opened her eyes and reached her arms to you.

You smiled as you picked her up into your arms, and gently rubbed her back, "You need to sleep, little Princess."

Jaehaera rested her head on your shoulder as she closed her eyes. You stood by the window, watching outside as you rubbed Jaehaera's back softly.

"Now I see what taken so long to come visit," a quiet voice spoke and You turned to watch Aegon walking in, with a small smile on his lips.

"Your twins wanted me to keep them company, Your Grace," you said as a small smile appeared on your lips, "I could not say no to them."

"I wasn't expecting you to," Aegon said softly as he approached closer.

You looked around at the empty room before at the Prince. "Your mother had asked for me. She wanted to ask if you had done something to me because I am keeping you company every evening now for weeks."

"Mmm. And what have you said?"

"I admitted we only having conversations, that is all," you answered quietly, feeling that the little Princess had fallen asleep in your arms. You continued rubbing the child's back gently as you glanced to her figure with a small smile.

Aegon noticed the smile, and the way your eyes seemed different when you were looking at the twins. He suddenly thought about what it would be if his twins were with yours instead with his sister. If he would have seen you before, he thought maybe, you could have changed him long ago.

He could have had someone who truly cared for him, long ago. He wouldn't have felt so alone.

He wouldn't care that you were a servant, he would have wanted you to be his side. He would have fight his parents for you. He could...

"You can be a great mother one day," he suddenly spoke.

Your eyes darted to him and then at Jaehaera with a small smile, "Perhaps. Who knows if my time will come." Your smile faded slightly. "It would be nice to have family of your own. With someone who will care and love you."

I could do that Aegon thought as he stared at you while you walked to Jaehaera's crib and placed her inside. This time she was completely asleep.

You smiled softly as you looked from her to Jaehaerys and followed the Prince out of the chamber. You followed him into his chamber, "So how was your--"

You turned to him and your words were cut off when Aegon crushed his lips against yours. He placed his hands on your neck to keep you from moving away, which he hoped you weren't thinking of doing.

Aegon pulled his lips from your, but only for inches, "I have never wanted something that much until I set my eyes on you," he muttered between your lips.

He felt your hands moving to his cheeks and up to his hair as you kissed him back, passionately.

"Aegon--" you tried to say but it came as a moan as he released your lips only to move his lips down your jaw, trailing down to your throat. You moved your head back, giving him more room as he trailed his kisses down.

You grabbed his cheeks again and you the one to pulled him to your lips, kissing him with so much passion and hunger that surprised and delighted him.

Aegon, gently as he could, reached down and pulled your legs up. You wrapped you legs around his waist as he moved you both to his bed. He placed you on the sheets without breaking the kiss.

Your mind was racing. You tried to think, but all you could think and feel right now, was Aegon.

His lips.

His hands.

The two of you took each other's clothes off, Aegon pulled himself to your face and kissed you again hungrily.

You slipped your tongue past his teeth, and Aegon lost it. He grabbed hold of your face instantly pressing deeper into you, allowing himself to fully taste you. You moaned at the feeling of him.

Aegon pulled his lips from yours, trailing down to your throat and farther down. You moaned as you felt his lips on your chest.

"You're more beautiful than I could ever have imagined," he muttered as he kissed your breast, making you moan and grip his hair.

"Aegon," you moaned. He moved back to your face as he grabbed your legs.

You parted your legs from him to moved in between. He kissed down to your pulse, "You're mine," he said quietly.

Your head fell back into his pillows as he slid two fingers up your wet slit without a warning. "Gods, Aegon," you moaned, "Please."

"What do you want for me to do, my little princess," he teased as he kissed you throat while you pushed your hips down to his fingers.

You moaned with frustration, "Just fuck me."

"Mmm," he hummed, "Your wish is my command."

You felt him slipping his fingers out, and before you could catch your breath, you felt the tip of his cock slipping into your entrance.

Aegon groaned, his eyes rolling back as he felt your wet heat against the tip of his cock. He pushed himself into you, white hot pleasure erupting in his belly as he felt your walls clenching around him. You whimpered at the stretch of his cock and Aegon stroked your hair to sooth you, "My Princess. You're taking me so well."

You moaned while he groaned as he pulled out. Your legs wrapped around his middle tighter and Aegon took that as a mean that you're ready for more, not wasting a second before starting to thrust into you.

The both of you moaned at the feeling and Aegon quickly pressed his lips into yours again. He started to move, hips snapping faster into yours. The more you moaned, the faster he moved.

"Aegon, I--" you moaned, not been able to finish your words.

"I'm getting close too," he grunted out, panting heavily as he pounded you into his mattress, grunting loudly as his seed spilled deep inside your cunt. 

You both moaned as you finished. Aegon didn't pull out of you, he pressed himself into you more, deeper. You panted and brushed your fingers on his messy hair.

A moment of silent passed and Aegon finally pulled out from you. He rolled on his back to lay next to you, panting. You turned on your side to look at him and saw satisfaction in his eyes.

You hesitated to ask now what, but when Aegon reached to his blankets and simply covered the two of you. He pulled you to his chest, your back pressed to his front.

You chuckled softly as he wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer. "I didn't know you were a cuddler, my Prince."

"Only with you," he muttered and pressed a tender kiss on your shoulder.

You tilted your head to look at him and smiled a soft smile before whispering, "What would happen now?"

Aegon looked at you, and smirked, "Now... we rest before the second round."

You rolled your eyes but smiled with amusement as you playfully hit his chest, "Not that. I meant what we'll do from now on?"

Aegon rolled the two of you so you were on the sheets and he was on top of you. He placed his hand on your jaw, "As from now on..." He leaned down and kissed your throat, making you close your eyes with pleaser. "You are mine."

He trailed his kisses up and down your throat and then up to kiss your lips before pulling away slightly to look into your eyes. "You are all mine." You trailed your finger down his cheek, the touch made his close his eyes. "My safe heaven."

Taglist:

@lawlerek, @thenovelcarnival, @mynameisbaby9, @carriellie, @parizparis, @xcharlottemikaelsonx, @daddysfavoritesexkitten, @uselessbutinteresting, @hc-geralt-23, @babyblue-chaos, @azaleapotterblack, @hydrationqueensworld, @firefirevampire, @burningshewolf

Burning Desire

Aemond x Older!sister Reader

Summary: You rush off to confront your brother Aemond after discovering he hurt your sister, only to find him crying. You are angry at him for what he has done, but you cannot stand to see your little brother suffer.

Warnings:  Angst, Smut, Sibling incest

A/N: This was supposed to be an angsty comfort fic, but it very quickly got out of hand. All dialogue in italics means that the characters are speaking in High Valyrian. I was just too lazy to attempt to translate it. No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes. (Gif is not mine!)

You stormed through the castle halls, ignoring the maids and knights who quickly stepped out of your way. Usually, you would give them some sign of acknowledgment, but tonight, you couldn’t— not when your anger was boiling over. Your hands trembled with repressed rage, and your fingers curled into fists as you tried desperately to refrain from lashing out. There was only one person who was deserving of your wrath, and you were headed to find him now. 

When you arrived at his door, you entered the room, not bothering to knock. The loud sound of the wooden door slamming close behind you echoed in the air. The room was dark; only a few candles were lit, though they were burning dangerously low. You squint your eyes, searching until you find the silver-haired man hunched over in his chair. Your robe made a slight whooshing sound as you stormed over to his side. 

“How dare you!” Your voice cut through the air like a sharpened blade, every word dripping with venom and contempt.

Aemond says nothing. His head is lowered, and his long silver tresses conceal his face.

“You dare to lay a hand on our sister?! Has she not suffered enough?! And now you wish to send her into battle?!” Your chest is heaving wildly as you lose what little composure remains to you.

Once again, you are met with a deafening silence that angers you even more.

“Have you nothing to say?!” you yell, each word cracking like a whip. Your brows furrow and your lips curl into a snarl.

Yet once again, your words go unanswered. You open your lips, prepared to berate him even more until quiet sobs reach your ears. Your blood runs cold, and you freeze. Aemond’s body jerked with every gasp that escaped his throat. 

“I am alone,” he whispers . “As I always have been.”

His words move you to tears. 

“Aemond,” you whisper, stepping closer.

You reach out a hand to touch his shoulder but pull it away just before reaching him. Your mind is suddenly conflicted. Your rage is quickly converting into sadness with every second that passes. The two of you rarely saw eye to eye these past few weeks. His actions above Shipbreaker Bay had left you horrified. The abhorrent murder of your nephew, Jaehaerys, happened not long after. You blamed Aemond for that and did not bother trying to hide it from him.

Then, Aegon returned from Rook’s Rest, burned and broken beyond repair. Your mother came to you shortly after, sharing her thoughts about what had happened. She believed Aemond to be responsible, but you could not bring yourself to believe it at the time. But as the days passed, you found yourself becoming increasingly unsure. Especially after today, when the horrific details of his actions at Sharp Point reached you. Most days, you could hardly even recognize him—this strange man who shares the face of your sweet little brother.

You take a deep breath before reaching out. Your hand trembles as you place it on his shoulder, but he does not flinch from your touch. He leans into it. Aemond raises his head just enough to look you in the eyes. His face is stained with tears, and his eye is red and gleaming with tears, ready to fall. His silver hair is unusually messy and unkempt. The leather eyepatch is gone, exposing the beautiful sapphire embedded into his eyesocket. It is a sight he has entrusted very few to see.

“I am sorry,” he cried. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“I know,” you whisper, pulling him close.

He buries his face into your stomach. His large hands gripped tightly at your sides, and you did your best not to wince. You lift a hand, brushing down his unkempt hair. You were angry at him. You had come here to yell at him, maybe even hit him, but you couldn’t. Not when it filled your heart with great sorrow to see your brother in so much pain. Your little brother. The boy you had always tried so hard to shield from the cruelty of this world. The boy who had always run to you for comfort after being humiliated by Aegon time and time again.

Aemond continued to sob. His tears made the thin fabric of your nightdress stick to your skin, and the cold wetness sent a chill down your spine. You gasp as you feel him pull you down, sitting you on his lap. He held you close, burying his face into the curve of your neck. Your hands rested against the warm, bare skin of his back as you held him. He must have been preparing for bed not long before you arrived as he was only dressed in a pair of black lambswool breeches.

“You are not alone,” you reassure him, gently kissing the scar that marred his brow. “I am here, as I always have been.”

There is a slight chill in the air, but the heat radiating from his skin keeps you warm. Aemond sniffles but says nothing. You can feel his tears sliding down your neck. You move a hand up to his head, toying with his hair. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, seemingly inhaling your scent. Aemond shifts in his seat, spreading his legs a little wider, making the position more comfortable for you. A quiet gasp escapes your throat as you feel the taut muscle of his thigh pressing into the most intimate part of your body.

The feeling sends a rush of heat through your veins. Your breath quickens as you try to push the sensation aside. Your face burns as shame begins to overwhelm you. He just wanted to be close to you, searching for comfort in your arms as he had done many times before. But your body is turning it into something perverse.

Aemond bounced his knee ever so slightly, almost like a tremble. You squirmed, trying to press your thighs closer together in hopes of stopping the heat growing in your stomach. One of Aemond’s large hands rests firmly against the small of your back. The other moves to grip the outside of your thigh.

“Aemond,” you gasp as you feel his lips grazing against our collarbones.

“What?” He asks, his voice so nonchalant.

“I think I should go,” you replied, trying to stand up.

But his hands hold onto you tight, refusing to let you go. 

“Please stay,” he begged, burying his face into the curve of your neck once more.

“Alright,” you whisper, trying to calm him.

His hair tickles your nose. You lift your head a bit, resting your chin on the top of his head. You trail the tips of your fingers against the muscles of his back. Aemond nuzzles his face against your neck. He bounces his knee a bit harder. You wonder if he is doing this on purpose.

“Aemond, stop it,” you mumble, trying to ignore the fire sparking in the pit of your stomach.

“Stop what?” He asked, ghosting his lips over your jaw. 

“You know what,” you whine.

He ignores you; his lips press soft kisses against your jaw. Aemond bunches the skirt of your dress into the hand that grips your thigh. He steadily inches it up higher. The cold air touching your now bare legs makes the hair on your body stand up. Suddenly coming to your senses, you gasp, slapping a hand over his as the skirt of your dress reaches just above your knees. He tries to continue, but you use all the strength you can muster to keep his hand still. 

“We must stop,” you command, trying to stop yourself from giving in to him completely.

This was wrong. You were both betrothed to other people—him to some Baratheon girl and you to the Lord of the Arbor. They were political matches, as most marriages are. You held no love for Lord Redwyne, but you would do your duty as was expected of you.

Aemond easily pushed past your hand, slipping his hand between your thighs. You gasped, trying to squeeze them together to keep him at bay. Your stomach flutters as his thumb rubs across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Your fingernails dig into his forearm. You pull back, and he lifts his head to look you in the eyes. 

He removes his hand from between your thighs, moving it up to your face. You find yourself melting into the warmth of his palm. The pad of his thumb ghosts over your lips, but his eye never leaves yours.

“You were supposed to be mine,”   he says in the gentlest tone.

“Aemond,” you whine, trying to push him away.

But he refuses to let you go. The hand on your back kept you from standing. His fingertips trail down the side of your neck down to the neckline of your nightdress. His touch on your skin leaves you feeling almost delirious. The fire in your stomach is fully ablaze now. You squirm in his lap as his fingers graze over the tops of your breasts. You cursed yourself for this, as the feeling of his tense muscles sends waves of heat straight to your cunt. The hairs on the back of your neck raise. Your eyes close, and you bite your lip to stop crying out. 

“Look at me.”  

It is a command that you are unable to ignore. Aemond is the prince regent. In this moment, he speaks with the king’s voice. His absolute authority leaves you fearful and painfully aroused. Once again, your eyes meet his. He says nothing, simply watching you like a predator stalking its prey as his hand moves over your nightdress, cupping your breast. You gasp, slapping a hand over his. You know you should push him away, but you don’t. 

A chill runs down your spine. Under his gaze, you feel completely exposed, almost powerless—a feeling you usually dislike greatly. You were a princess of the realm and a dragon rider. You were anything but helpless. Yet you find yourself wanting nothing more than to surrender yourself to him, to escape from your worries and sorrows, to be free from all the tiring expectations that have been placed upon you since your birth.

“Am I so hard to love?” 

His voice trembled, as he struggled to hold back tears. The authority is gone, replaced with something much more vulnerable. The sight broke your heart in two. You had always worried about Aemond, your sweet, sensitive little brother. Since he had come of age, he had changed. He was colder and more distant, not just from you but from everyone, even your mother, whom you know he cared for greatly. It was like he believed he had to be this... pillar of strength, or all would crumble.

You remove your hand from his, moving it up to cup the scarred side of his face. You lean down, pressing a gentle kiss on his brow. You have done this so many times over the years, yet it has never felt as intimate as it did now. Aemond closed his eye, leaning into your touch. A sharp pain stabs at your heart as you watch how desperate he is for your comfort.

The hand on your breast slid back down to your thigh. Aemond’s fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt. Your thumb traced down the deep scar that marked his cheek. You lean down, peppering kisses from his cheek to his jaw, where the scar stops. He turns his head slightly, so that your lips hover above his, almost touching. You rest your head against his. His violet eye stared into your own.

“What of Floris? She is to be your wife.” You say, hoping he may come to his senses, as yours have fled from you completely.

“You will be my wife... for tonight.” A single tear drops from his eye as the words leave his lips.

It is such a beautiful, harrowing sight. One that leads you to shedding tears of your own. Aemond’s hands grip you by the waist, hoisting you up just enough for you to straddle him. Your knees rest on both sides of his legs, trapping him between your thighs. A wave of heat runs through your veins as your bare cunt presses against his clothed bulge. He leans forward, capturing your gasp with his mouth. One of your hands cups his face while the other pushes his hair away from his face. 

The two of you shared passionate, frantic kisses. You had not been prepared from when Aemond’s tongue slid into your mouth. You whine, caught off guard, but do your best to follow along with him. You had no experience with such things. The only kisses you had ever experienced came from tall, handsome knights in your dreams. But even then, those kisses were nothing like this. They were short and sweet. A quick peck on the cheek or lips, but this was much different. Aemond kissed you with such urgency, such deep burning desire.

Aemond lifts his hips, pressing himself against you. The feeling of his hard cock pressing against your aching cunt makes you cry out, though your noises are muffled against his lips. The feeling is so foreign, yet exciting, that you can’t stop yourself from reaching down to palm him through his trousers. His hardened cock is thick and throbbing beneath your touch. A newfound confidence blooms in your chest.

A sound rumbled in his chest; his large hands gripped your ample hips. Your hands moved to grip his shoulders as you rocked yourself back and forth, your bare cunt grinding against his clothed bulge. He hissed, knitting his brows together. You watch as his face contorts into one of pleasure. Your own burning desire is growing too much. Your desperate, heavy breaths fill the air as you grind yourself against him even faster, desperate to reach your peak. He looked up at you; his mouth hung open slightly as he watched you use him for your own selfish gratification.

It’s exhilarating- him watching you- seeing you in a way no other ever has, touching you in a way no other ever has.

“You’re doing so good,” he praises.

His praise sends another wave of pleasure coursing through your veins. The room suddenly feels unbearably hot. You’re so close; you can feel it. The pressure building up in your stomach is eager to be released. You roll your hips even faster, harder. But it is not enough. The throbbing in your cunt is almost painful. You are nearly sobbing at this point.

“I want more,” you whine. “I need more. Please, brother.”

“I am at your mercy, sister,” he smirks. “Take what you want.”

You reach down, huffing as you struggle to untie the laces of his trousers. You can feel his chest vibrate against you as he chuckles.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you grumble.

“My apologizes-” he shudders as your hand wraps around his thick cock. Finally freeing him from the confines of his trousers.

A triumphant smile crosses your face. You give his cock a few strokes, admiring the way it stands so prettily for you, so thick and full. Suddenly, you begin to fear the thought of having to fit it inside of you. Aemond seems to sense your worry. His hand cups the back of your neck, making you look at him.

“Take it slow,” he warns.

You nod, lifting yourself on your knees a bit. Your wetness coats your fingers and his cock as you press the tip into your aching cunt. You whine as the head breaches your walls, and you clamp tightly around him. The stretch is a bit uncomfortable but not painful. You may be a maiden, but you still had desires. Many nights, you have had to satiate your hunger with your fingers.

You lower yourself on him slowly. Thankfully, your wetness makes it easier to take him. You take a deep breath as you take him to the hilt. It takes you a moment to adjust to his size. 

“Are you okay?” Aemond asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

“Yes, I just ... need a moment,” you breathlessly laugh as he lifts a hand to trail his fingers against your jaw.

He nods, raising his chin to kiss gently against the corner of your mouth. You turn your head, pressing your lips to his. A soft tongue gently licks at the swell of your bottom lip, and you grant him entry. The gentleness comes to an end. He licks into you with a fervor that steals your breath away. Your thoughts fade, and you melt into his arms. 

Aemond kisses you like he wants to devour you, and you want nothing more. You lift your hips before lowering yourself. Aemond finally breaks the kiss, and his hands move to your waist.

“Ah-h,” he whines against the corner of your lips.

You begin to move slowly, easing yourself into up and down on his cock. Your eyes never leave him, watching as he presses his head to the back of the chair. His chest moves with his deep breaths, his eye is closed, and his mouth is partially open. He shudders, and a desperate, eager moan emits from his throat. It is a sight to behold.

He lifts his hips, pressing deeper into you, making you cry out.

“Aemond!” You whimper, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades.

His eye fluttered open as he watched you struggle to find the right pace. He gripped your waist tighter, his fingers digging into your fleshy sides. He guided you, raising you up and down on him. The newfound pace made you mewl pathetically, but you were too desperate to reach your peak to care. He called out your name. It sounded almost sinful coming from his lips. 

You drop your head, resting it against his. Your mouth hangs open as you gasp and moan. The faint scent of pine and smoke fills your nose. It’s him, his scent. The smell is almost intoxicating. Your mind is swimming, dizzy from the pleasure of him bucking up into you.

You feel one of his palms cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer. He lifts his chin, closing the small distance between you pressing his lips to yours. You try your best to follow the frantic rhythm he sets. He swallows every sound you make as he holds the back of your neck, refusing to let you pull away—not that you want to. 

Aemond plants his feet on the ground for leverage as he pumps into you. His thrusts are more erratic now as he approaches his end. The air in your lungs is incinerated, and a shameful, high-pitched moan escapes from your lips. You move your hips, rocking against him, dangerously close to finally reaching your peak. 

He doesn’t stop, bucking into you with a force that would be strong enough to toss you off of him if not for the hand holding onto your waist. Your hot cunt clenched around him, the muscles in your legs burned from remaining in this position for so long. 

It’s not fair- how good he is at this- how good he is making you feel. It’s all too much. Your poor wet cunt is overwhelmed with pleasure. The hand on your neck moves down, and the pad of his thumb rubs circles around that sensitive button between your legs. 

“That's it,” he coaxed, his hot breath fans on your mouth. “Let go, give it to me.”

You don’t stand a chance. Not when his cock makes you feel so full, reaching that one spot that makes you throw your head back. One of your hands tangles in his hair, tugging. Your chests’ are flushed against each other as you both rock against each other. You clench around his cock as you finally reach your release, hard and blinding. The world around you seems to disappear. It’s only you and him who matter.

“Ha-ah ... ah,” he sputtered, becoming more desperate.

You cry out as you fill his hot mouth, which latches into one of your breasts. He suckles at your breast like a starving babe. His tongue lashes back and forth around your hardened nipple. The sensation is strange but has you clenching around him even tighter. 

His teeth graze against your nipple. Every grunt and moan that leaves him vibrates against your breast. You can feel his thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. His cock pulses inside of you, it feels too good. Aemond releases your nipple, resting his forehead on your breast. Choked gasps and grunts slip past his lips as he reaches his peak, releasing inside of you, filling you with his seed.

The two of you stay pressed against each other as you come down for your highs. Aemond’s hips relax, his body melting into the chair. Your body sinks into him, boneless and spent. You lay your head on his shoulder, resting your chin on his collarbone. His fingertips trail over the curve of your back. Your eyes feel heavy as you struggle to keep them open.

“I am sorry for what I’ve done,” he apologized.

“I know,” you reply weakly.

You can feel his warm breath against your ear. His scent, mixed with his sweat, fills your nose, bringing you comfort.

“Our sister has too much of our mother in her. I see that now.”

You frown but say nothing, letting him continue. His lips press against your ear. He nudges your face with his shoulder, making you pull away. He grasps your chin between his thumb and index fingers. Your eyes flicker between the sapphire and his violet iris. You lift a hand to trail your fingers along his sharp jaw.

“But you and I,” he says, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “We are two flames kindled from the same fire. We were always meant to burn as one.”

“Aemond,” you sigh.

“I am afraid,” he admits, rendering you speechless. “I cannot fight this war alone, sister.”

“You are not alone,” you argued. “You have Daeron.”

“Tsk,” he turns his head. “He is still young, as is his dragon.”

“Young or not, Tessarion is still a dragon.”

Aemond says nothing. His eye stared at the plain stone wall of his bedchamber. You watch him silently, trying to read him.

“Come with me,” he asked, turning his head back to you. 

“What?” You gasp.

“Mount your dragon and go with me to Harrenhal.”

“Mother would never allow it,” you shake your head.

“Our mother has made it clear that she does not hold our best interest at heart.”

“She means well,” you protested, trying to defend your mother, no matter how true his words seemed.

“If we do not fight, we will die. Rhaenyra may spare you and Helaena, but she will not be so merciful to the rest of us. She will have to take Aegon’s head, mine, and Daerons's as well. So long as our father has a living son, she will never be able to rule in peace.”

“You don’t know that-”

“I do,” he insisted. “Is that not what our mother has told us our entire lives?”

You blink, and memories of your childhood flood your mind. He was right. Over the years, your mother had repeatedly stressed the dangers that would follow should your sister ascend to the throne.

“Come with me,” he whispered.

Your eyes flickered from his trembling lips to his tear-filled eye. It was not an order but a plea. He was afraid and desperate for aid. You were afraid as well—you had been since Ser Criston placed that crown upon Aegon’s head. It has only been a few weeks, and already, your life has been turned completely upside down. 

You had no desire to fight this war. Many times, you have had to stop yourself from climbing on your dragon and leaving. But you could not abandon your family, just as you could not abandon Aemond now.

You nod your head. He smiled, a look of relief crossing his face. One of his hands finds yours, lacing your fingers together before bringing his lips to yours, giving you one last sweet and adoring kiss. Once he pulls away, you lay your head back down on his shoulder.

“Can I go to sleep now?” You mumble against his skin.

“Yes,” he lets out a breathy laugh. “You can sleep now.”

Stick it Out to the End

summary: michael is desperate to get into oxford's prestigious bullingdon club; unfortunately for him, they command him to do the impossible to gain admittance

pairing: michael gavey x bimbo!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, bimbo reader, mentions of hazing but nothing horrible/extreme, virgin!michael, breast/nipple play, praise kink, piv sex, protected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), oral sex (f receiving), consensual filming, dirty talk, cursing, what i hope is saltburn-esque humor, mild size kink, mild angst but happy ending, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 12.7k

a/n: images in the header are for aesthetic purposes only & are not used to describe the reader! she's back and she's long as hell but what else is new!!! this is my first time writing bimbo!reader and while she wasn't super bimbo-y, it was fun getting my feet wet! hope y'all enjoy!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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Michael

Michael couldn’t help but feel his heart speed up in his chest as he wound through the quiet corridors clutching tightly to the cryptic note he’d found stuffed in his pigeonhole that morning – just a page torn out of a standard notebook covered hastily written red ink; wholly un-intimidating as far as cryptic notes were concerned. Really, he was surprised to see they didn’t put more effort in; with as secretive and imperious as this little club was, he had been expecting some sort of extravagant stationary, perhaps even some gold embossing. 

Coming to a stop in front of an unassuming janitor’s closet door, he narrows his eyes behind the gold frames of his glasses, staring at the door with a nearly accusatorial expression. Michael swivels his head once more, his brows furrowed as he checks and re-checks every door in the vicinity before turning back to the one he stands before. Scoffing, he unfolds the note with a little irritated sigh and quickly scans the page again, mouthing the words to himself for the millionth time that day. 

The riddle had been easy enough to figure out, some trivial little lines about dead men walking, the mob, finding God, and looking to one’s heart pointed right toward some hush hush basement beneath the Merton College Chapel. That, and it didn’t take a genius to see that each line consisted of a specific number of words, pointing him right to the very door he stood in front of now – 129. 

Fucking amateurs, he’d thought after cracking the code in under half an hour. But that was earlier. And now, as he stares at the stupid dull grey janitor’s closet door in front of him, Michael can’t stop the little tendrils of doubt from creeping into his periphery. He’s sure this is the right door and positive this is the right place and yet… janitor’s closet. He checks his watch, 11:50 PM on the dot, and glances up and down the dark, shadowy corridors once more, half expecting one of the twatty rich assholes to jump out and start snickering at him, making fun of him for thinking that a no one like him would’ve ever received an invite to a club like this. 

Shaking his head, he reaches for the doorknob anyway, he’s come this far so he may as well. He freezes a little when it actually turns and his blue eyes go wide when he pushes the door open, shivering a little as he’s met with a wall of cool, dank air – eau de basement, just as he’d expected. A little actually impressed sigh passes his lips when he pokes his head in, an apprehensive smile blooming on his lips as he takes in the eerie red lighting spilling up the stairwell from the God-knows-what downstairs. 

He winces as the door squeaks when he tugs it open but he doesn’t stop, emboldened now as he knows he had been right once again. He takes the stairs quickly, probably too quickly given that he hasn’t a fucking clue what or who could be down here, but before he can dwell on the idea too much, he’s faced with another corridor. This one, unlike the ones upstairs, is narrow and brick-lined and leads in only one direction, straight to another closed door at the other end. 

Michael squints against the bright red light coming from a spotlight that had been haphazardly set up on the stone floor and walks down the hallway, his steps speeding up as he hears the janitor’s door above him open and close once more. His breath hitches a little as he opens the second door and quickly steps inside, like ripping off a band-aid. 

He freezes once more when a strong hand latches onto his shoulder and quickly jerks him further into the room, making him yelp as he stumbles, trying to keep pace with whoever the hell is leading him. 

“What the –”

Before he has time to so much as blink, his back thuds against a brick wall and finally he looks up, the vicious scowl he’d prepared morphing into a look of disturbed confusion as he eyes a row of other students, about fifteen and all men from the looks of it, dawned with black –

Oh, Christ, are those ski masks? He thinks as he eyes them up and down, How fucking banal… at least it’s not hooded cloaks. He nearly rolls his eyes as he scans the rest of the room, taking in the dim lighting interspersed with blues and greens from more of those stupid party boy spotlights. Glancing to the side, he sees another boy in his year, some guy he only knew from a few classes and passing glances in the hallways, but even still he’s comforted to not be alone down here, no matter how cliché this whole affair seemed. 

His blue eyes snap forward as the door, the only door, to the room is opened once more and some other poor sap is hastily dragged across the room, only to be smacked on the wall to his left. Again, it’s just some other boy Michael knows from classes, though he doesn’t know why he expects any different – it’s not as if he knows many people outside of the forced proximity of a lecture hall. Which was really his only reason for putting up with this bother, for seeking it out in the first place; a quick flash of him placing a tightly folded up sticky note with his name and pigeonhole number in an old, beaten up copy of King Lear in the library played in his mind – the price he seemed to pay for loneliness. 

Distantly, the bells of the chapel began to chime, signaling the hour. Once, twice, and eventually twelve times – midnight. Time to start the show, Michael surmises. 

“Welcome, initiates,” one of the hooded men says in a tone that makes Michael glare judgmentally, his voice pitched down like some idiotic knock-off Darth Vader. He steps forward from the row they stand in and holds his arms out open at his sides, “Consider this your first foray into the Bullingdon Club.”

Again, he has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold in a scoff. This was all just so… juvenile? He was beginning to sincerely doubt that this was the über clandestine club that granted its members all sorts of connections to various businesses, societies, and insider information that even the richest of the rich couldn’t buy. 

Unfortunately, his face seemed to betray more of his emotions than he intended and the masked boy steps forward once more, his dark eyes zeroing in on Michael. 

“You,” he says gruffly, pointing a finger in his direction, “Something you wanna say, initiate?”

Out of habit, he pushed his glasses up on his nose before he spoke, perhaps foolishly bold given the situation. 

“Doesn’t this all seem a bit much for three people?” He scoffs, shaking his head slightly, “I mean, masks, really?”

The hooded boy stops for a second and studies Michael closely, one hand on his hip, “What’s wrong with the masks?”

“Well, what’s the point? There’s, what, fifteen or sixteen of you? And three of us?” He asks, glancing around the room, which he now realized very clearly used to be some run-of-the-mill storage room, probably forgotten about by now.

The boy laughs sarcastically and shrugs his shoulders a bit, his voice back to its natural pitch, “It wouldn’t really be a secret thing if we just invited half the student body, mate.”

Michael supposes his reasoning is sound and says as much with a little hum and nod of his head, eyebrows raising dismissively. 

“Anything else?” The masked boy asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The masks don’t really disguise you lot that well,” he observes, pointing at one of the other boys standing in the row, “That’s Harry from Multivariable Calculus.”

“Shit…” Harry mutters under his breath, the sound carrying through the concrete room. A few of the other boys in the row lean over and place comforting hands on his shoulders and murmur words of encouragement, much to Michael’s dismay.

“Why’re you here, initiate?” The lead boy asks, turning back to Michael.

“Dunno,” he shrugs again, pushing his glasses up his nose, “Friends, I guess.”

A couple of the boys in the row make little noises, mutters of empathy that make the blond’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion as he glances up and down the line. 

“And this was your first thought? A secret society?” Harry from Multivariable Calculus asks with a little laugh, “Not like… chess or something?” 

“Don’t really like chess…” Michael says with a little shrug. Apparently a good enough answer for Harry, who makes a little noise of understanding and nods his head. 

After another moment, the lead boy clears his throat, which shuts up the rest. “Anyway,” he says, his voice falsely low once more. “Each of you will be given a task…,” his dark eyes glance between Michael and the other two boys as he paces in front of them, “Perfectly customized to challenge you, to push you to your absolute limits.” 

The masked boy pauses his little speech and gestures back to three of the other boys standing in the row behind him who then step forward and walk over to the dank brick wall that Michael and the other two boys stand against. He studies the boy that walks towards him carefully, his eyes narrowing in suspicion when he notices how much shorter he appears to be.

Finally, the boy comes to stand before him and presents a plain white envelope, though Michael’s lips spread into a hateful smirk when he sees an all too familiar pair of old, beat up trainers on the boy’s feet. 

“Oliver?!” He hisses meanly, shock lacing his voice as he jerks back the hand he had reached out for the envelope, wincing as his elbow collides with the cool wall behind him. He glances around the room, noting the few pairs of eyes that were on him, before fixing his gaze on the boy before him once more with a harsh glare, “You’re in Bullingdon?”

The boy in front of him hesitates for a second, cutting a sideways glance toward a taller boy that was busy presenting an envelope to the boy to Michael’s left, before he sighs and looks back at him, blue eyes peeking out of the holes in his ski mask. “Yeah,” he huffs, shrugging his shoulders defensively, “How’d you know it was me, then?”

“You look like a goddamn twelve year old!” Michael jeers, his voice low and vicious as his hands curl into fists at his sides, “How’d you manage to get into this club anyway?” He questions, seething, “They only let you in if you have the money or the marks and I know for a fucking fact you don’t have either.”

Oliver sighs again and rolls his eyes, which makes him see red and grit his teeth, although he doesn’t miss how the shorter boy’s eyes cut to the side again quickly. He opens his mouth, but before he can get a word in edgewise, the blond cuts him off with a little mocking laugh.

“Don’t tell me that’s fucking Catton,” Michael groans lowly with a shake of his head, breathing heavily as he feels the same sense of anger and betrayal he’d felt all those months ago well up in him once more, transporting him right back to the stupid damn pub, “You’ve got to be bloody kidding me, is this shite little club only full of cunts?”

“Look, I’m –” 

Oliver starts to speak again, only to be cut off when the head boy traipses over to where they are, coming to stand ominously behind him with his arms clasped behind his back. His dark eyes dart between the two boys before he speaks.

“Problem over here, lads?”

“No,” Oliver answers quickly, staring warily up at Michael as he practically shoves the envelope into his arms, “Just complete the task, initiate. You have thirty-six hours.” 

Before Michael can blink, Oliver turns his back and stalks back over to the other boys, taking his place in the row once more. The head boy looks Michael up and down appraisingly before nodding to the letter in his hands with a sly smirk.

“I can’t wait to see how you fare with that one, Gavey,” he says, his voice low and threatening, as if he’s in on the most delicious joke, “Remember, thirty-six hours, initiate.” He chuckles softly and departs, returning to stand in the center of the room. 

Everyone stands still for a moment, Michael and the other two boys to his left and right holding their respective envelopes nervously, unsure if they were supposed to open them now or not. Thankfully, the head boy clears his throat, commanding all eyes to him once again.

“Initiates,” he says slowly, his voice no doubt already hoarse from this little farce, “Failure to complete your tasks will result in a permanent ban from Bullingdon; no second chances. We expect results as well as proof of those results,” his dark eyes scan over the three boys once more, one corner of his mouth turned up into a mean smirk, “We’ll be seeing you back in this location Sunday at noon. Your thirty-six hours begin now… have fun.” He finishes with a taunting laugh before turning and exiting from the room, the old door creaking as he pulls it open before disappearing into the faint red glow of the hallway, followed by the rest of the fifteen boys in an orderly line.

As soon as the old door closes, the sound of paper tearing echoes around the dimly lit basement as Michael and the other two boys hastily tear open their envelopes. Pulling out a little slip of paper, his eyes go wide as a wave of dread washes over him. His eyes scan over the paper again and again as he nervously shoves his glasses back up his nose once more, silently willing the chicken-scratch words on the paper to somehow change, to give him some other command. 

His heart is pumping so loudly in his ears that he misses it when one of the other boys tries getting his attention, his head snapping up suddenly as a hand waves in front of it.

“Oi!”

“W-What?” 

“What did they give you?” The boy asks, nodding at the scrap of paper in Michael’s hand.

He clears his throat and tries his best to come off as casual, though he hardly cares with the way thoughts begin racing through his mind. “Oh, um,” he starts, glancing down to read over the paper once more, “I just uh, have to sleep with someone is all.”

The other two boys gape at him for a moment before groaning frustratedly. The one that had first spoken to him holds his paper out and smacks it disdainfully with the back of his hand.

“What the hell?” He asks gruffly, glancing between his paper and Michael, “Why’s yours so bloody easy?”

“For real,” sighs the second boy, rubbing the back of his head, “Ours are damn near impossible. They must already be decided on you to go so soft. How am I meant to steal the fucking Selden Map from Bodleian?” He laments, brows furrowed as he stares down at the paper in his hands.

“Yeah, and I have to transfer ten thousand pounds out of the chancellor’s bank account and into mine!” The first boy sighs, shaking his head, “At least your mum’s head of conservatorship here, you can at least get within a stone’s throw of the map. I have to commit fucking wire fraud!” 

The two boys grumble for another moment as Michael silently descends into a tailspin, his blue eyes unfocused as he stares at one of the dingy brick walls of the basement, trying desperately to formulate a plan, any plan. He merely glances up as the other to head for the door, spitballing ideas for each of their tasks.

“Isn’t your dad the president of Julius Baer? Can’t you just get him to pull strings?”

“Oh, yeah, fantastic idea! I’ll just ring him and ask the old man to commit a felony! What could possibly go wrong there?”

Michael tries to tune out their bickering as the three of them ascend the staircase and trail out into the hallway of Merton College Chapel once more; the two other boys don’t pay him any mind as they continue whispering amongst themselves, their voices trailing quietly down the hallway as he leans with his back against the cool metal of the janitor’s closet door. 

Sighing, he reads over the directive again, his blue eyes catching on the sharply scrawled letters of a very familiar name, one that makes his cheeks flush and his heart race. He swallows nervously, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

How could they know to do this? He wonders sheepishly. It’s not like he’d mentioned her to anyone; hell, he’d never even said so much as three words to her! No, his pathetic little crush was entirely in his mind. 

Too much of a coward to even say hi, he bemoans, trying to stave off the sense of shame he felt as he considered how many times he’d finished with her name on his lips, her pretty face and soft curves and sweet smell and little girly outfits whirling around his head since he’d spotted her on the first fucking day; he’d pined ever since and she didn’t even know he existed! How could she?

This is fucking impossible, he thinks miserably, wishing that he had any other task. He’d rather steal the Queen’s own goddamn family jewels than this. He glances at his watch once more and groans when he sees it’s almost already two in the morning; pushing himself up off the door, he hangs his head as he scurries back to his dorm room, thoughts spiraling as he plots. 

You

A laugh bubbles up past your lips as you sway your hips, your whole body vibrating as “Umbrella” blasts through the speakers while you dance with your friends, partying to celebrate the end of term. 

“You can run into my arms, it’s okay, don't be alarmed!” You sing happily, yours and your friends voices mingling together with another peal of laughter; you take another sip of your drink as you move along with the beat of the song, savoring the fizzy strawberry daiquiri as you begin to feel a bit warm from the little rush of alcohol, already on your third drink of the night. 

You smile proudly as you spot Felix in the crowd, his hazel eyes already fixed on you, or well, fixated on your chest. His attention makes you preen and you bite your lower lip, the sickly sweet taste of your cherry lip gloss filling your mouth as you purposefully bounce up and down on the balls of your feet. 

The thin straps of your pastel pink dress hold on for dear life as your chest heaves enticingly, and you giggle when you see those hazel eyes widen just a bit, no doubt tracing over the glittering chain of your necklace, following down to where it settles, a little sparkly pink diamond nestling temptingly at your cleavage. You teasingly wink, blushing a little when you get a wink back, and go back to dancing with your friends, knowing from experience that Felix preferred to approach rather than be approached. 

You dance with your friends for a few more moments, grinding up against any warm body you can find as a raunchier song begins pumping through the speakers, before you feel eyes on you yet again. Smiling at the attention, you glance around again, the low, colorful lighting of the pub making it hard to tell exactly which direction your admirer’s coming from. 

Your eyes flit over a few familiar faces, you can’t help but sigh in relief when you notice that Oliver’s eyes are thankfully planted firmly on someone that is not you, though a confused little crease forms between your brows when you realize that Felix’s aren’t either. Turning your head, you sway along to the music still as you look around quickly, your feet beginning to ache finally from the precious little satin Chanel heels buckled around your ankles. 

Your eyes finally lock onto an unexpected gaze, a fresh wash of pink coloring your cheeks as blue eyes glance shyly away from you. A little giggle titters past your lips as you lean over to one of your friends, patting her shoulder to get her attention.

“You know who that blond guy is? With the glasses?” You call over the music, nodding over in your admirer’s direction as he stands awkwardly back against the wall by the entrance, clutching a still-foamy pint. 

She glances over before turning back to you with a little shrug. “Michael something, I think!” She says, her breath warm as she leans in closer so you can hear her, “I thought Oliver knew him!”

Your eyes immediately find the brunette, predictably following Felix around like a lost little puppy, before you look back over at Michael. You can’t help but feel a bit bad when you see him quickly look away from your direction again before staring intently into his pint glass, one hand shoved in the pocket of his khaki pants. 

“I’m gonna take a breather for a second!” You yell over the loud music, leaning in close and cupping a hand over her ear. 

“Aw, babe, come on!” She pouts playfully, tilting her head at you, “Stay longer!”

You shake your head with another little laugh and gesture at your feet, “These are sooo cute but they’re killing me!” You laugh, finishing off the last sip of your drink, “I’ll be over by the notice board!” You tell her, blowing a kiss as you walk away from the dance floor of the small, cramped pub. 

Finally, you reach the little area by the front door and lean back against the wall, taking in a much-needed deep breath as you pull your little tube of lip gloss out of your bra and carefully reapply some more, smirking when you glance over out of the corner of your eye and see a certain blond boy already shyly eyeing you. 

Rubbing your lips together with a little pouty pop, you tuck your gloss back in your bra once more before slowly approaching Michael, prettily manicured hands clasped behind your back to help shamelessly push your chest out more. His wide eyed stare makes you giggle and blush as you study him, eyes flitting appreciatively up and down his lithe frame; so much potential hidden away under a little button down and khakis. 

“Haven’t seen you here before,” you tease, smirking when he blushes and all but chokes on his beer, coughing for a few seconds before finally speaking.

“I… Me?” He asks awkwardly, glancing around for seemingly anyone else you could be talking to.

Lucky for him, you find his awkwardness endearing. Truthfully, you had for months, never missing the way his eyes always happened upon you in a crowd. There was something impressive about the boy, something that had made your mind drift to him on more than one occasion, even if you were already under someone else. 

“Of course you, silly,” you laugh softly, leaning against the wall next to him and tilting your head curiously, “You’re Michael, right?”

His eyes go wide again and nods wordlessly before finding his voice. “Yeah, Michael,” he says with a reserved little smile, “Gavey! Michael Gavey…” He adds awkwardly, cheeks flushing even more when you giggle, seemingly charmed by his inability to string two words together. He nods as you introduce yourself.

“I know,” he says before blinking, eyes going wide behind his gold framed glasses as he awkwardly glances away, “I just… I mean I’ve heard your name before, that’s all.”

“That’s all, huh?” You echo with a flirty little giggle, twirling a lock of hair around your finger as you let the moment linger, just wanting to push him a little. “What’re you reading?” You ask curiously, cocking your head to the side a little.

“Maths,” he nods quickly before looking down into his pint glass once more as if fizzling beer is the most interesting thing in the world, “I don’t really like it all that much, though… I mostly only picked it because I’m good at it.”

“Ooh,” you coo softly, nodding along with his words as you watch him carefully, “You must be wicked smart, I can’t do maths to save my life.” You comment with a little giggle, biting your lip when he seems to perk up at that comment and looks up at you with a little grin. 

“I can do it in my head,” he says lowly, an unexpectedly cocky edge to his voice that has your heart picking up in your chest, “Ask me a sum,” he says, a challenging glimmer in his eyes. 

You hum softly, biting your lip as you think for a second, “Uhm, seventy-two plus a hundred and thirteen?”

“One eighty-five,” he chuckles after no more than a second before scoffing a little, “Come on, give me one that’s hard, love.”

Love? The little pet name makes you raise an eyebrow before you laugh softly. “What do you mean a hard one?” You giggle, shaking your head, “That one was hard!”

“That was hard for you?” He teases, making your cheeks tingle as a pink flush settles over your skin, “What’re you reading, then?”

“Art history!” You chirp proudly, chuckling nervously when you see him roll his eyes a bit, “What? Something wrong with that?”

He shakes his head dismissively, quickly polishing off the last of his pint before setting the empty class on a table and turning back to you, pushing his glasses up his nose with a grin, “Ask me another one, then. Biggest numbers you can think of.”

You don’t know why, but something about his little challenge has you blushing again, like he’s testing you somehow. But still, you take a moment to think of some numbers, biting your lip and quirking your eyes up toward the ceiling. 

“Six hundred thirty-two times… eight hundred ninety-one,” you hum, cocking your head to the side as you watch him closely. His eyes seem to glaze over, only for a second, before once again he’s spouting off numbers like a calculator. 

“Five hundred sixty-three thousand, one hundred and twelve.” 

Your eyebrows raise at that as you gawk at him. “Wow…,” you breathe after a moment, blinking as you stare up at him, “You’re, like, super smart, then?”

“Suppose so,” he says, smiling shyly again as he tucks both hands into the pockets of his khaki pants.

You study him for a moment as the conversation lulls, finding something endlessly fascinating about the boy; the way he could swing from being so cocky and self assured to shy and awkward makes your stomach do summersaults. Turning your head, you spot your group of friends still dancing and you look back at Michael with a little sigh as another upbeat song blasts loudly through the pub. 

“D’you wanna get out of here?” You ask, smirking when he looks up at you shyly.

“W-What?”

“My dorm’s only, like, a minute from here,” you flirt, sweet and enticing as you make him blush somehow more, “We could go somewhere more… quiet?”

He stares at you for a moment, shocked that you’re asking him of all people to come back to yours before he nods and nervously runs a hand through his wheat colored hair, unsuccessfully trying to act casual. “Yeah, yeah, I can do that.”

“Yay!” You giggle happily, flirtatiously grabbing one of his hands as you saunter past him, heading for the exit, “C’mon, it’s like a five minute walk!” He nods wordlessly and you can’t help but smirk as he follows you like a lost little puppy. 

True to your word, it’s only a few minutes later when you and Michael reach your dorm room, after you’d stopped for a minute at the entrance to your hall to chat with Farleigh, who seemed very interested in the nerdy boy following at your heels. You just couldn’t wipe the smirk off your face as you and Michael left him standing at the doors, mouth open and a wicked little gleam in his eyes; no doubt, he’d immediately scurried off to the King’s Arms. 

The door to your room opens with a tiny squeak, blasted old building, and you all but prance inside, turning back to the blond boy still lingering in the doorway with a smile. 

“Am I going to have to invite you in like a vampire?” You joke with a little laugh as you bend down to quickly undo the buckles of your heels, letting out a relieved sigh when you finally step out of them, leaving you in frilly white ankle socks.  

Michael finally steps into your room with a huffed laugh and quickly kicks off his shoes, you smirk when you see his Star Wars themed socks. “‘M no vampire, love,” he quips, gold framed eyes darting around your room as he looks over every detail. You grin at the little blush on his cheeks and perch on the edge of your bed to watch him, head tilted ever so slightly. 

“It’s, uh, it’s cute in here,” he observes, his voice a low hum as he takes in your frilly, lacy curtains, plush white rug, and equally girlish floral bedding, all encased in the faint pink glow of the heart-shaped fairy lights strung up around the room, “Just like how I imagined…” He breathes, so lowly you doubt he meant to say that bit aloud. 

“Like you imagined?” You echo with a little giggle, quickly reapplying your lip gloss before setting the little tube on the corner of your desk. 

“I just… I – It’s just very… you, is all I meant,” he stutters, running a hand through his hair awkwardly, the apples of his cheeks flushed a dark pink. 

His awkwardness is so endearing, you can’t help but grin. The more time you spend with him, the more interesting he seems to become; this bumbling, nervous boy is so different from the one you’ve seen on campus so many times. On campus, he’s comfortable, quiet still, but with a definite air of confidence – clearly in his element as he prowls through bookshelves in the library or explains some complex math formula in the quad. 

“So, you think about me often, then?” Your voice stays sweet, innocent almost, though you can’t help but tease him; he’s so pretty when he blushes. 

“No!” He answers quickly, whipping his head toward you from where he’d been studying the various pictures tacked up on the walls, everything from boy band posters to stills from Clueless and Legally Blonde. “I mean, yes, sometimes, I…,” he fumbles again and pushes his glasses up his sharp nose, “I think about you a normal amount.” He says finally, glancing at you quickly before looking away. 

You hum softly and stand before walking toward him with a kind smile, though you don’t miss the way he keeps glancing down at your cleavage, or the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat when he swallows nervously. 

“A normal amount?” 

“Mhm,” he nods, gaze unsure as you come to stand in front of him, teeth biting into your plush lower lip as you twirl a piece of hair through your fingers, “As much as I think of anyone else.”

“So…,” you breathe, drawing out the word as you reach up and fiddle with the collar of his button down shirt, the turquoise gingham a bright blue blip among all the blush tones of your room, “Every time I’ve caught you looking at my tits in the library or in the quad or in the hallways… that was just a normal amount?”

You giggle as his eyes go wide, his lips opening and closing like a fish out of water. Deciding to take mercy on him, you run a finger down his chest, playfully fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

“Relax, I’m not mad,” you shake your head, smiling when the tension in his shoulders visibly eases, “Why wouldn’t I want a cutie like you staring?”

His lips part at that as he sucks in a little breath, blue eyes widening behind his glasses. “You think I’m… cute?” He asks breathlessly, heart pounding under your fingertip. 

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip once more as you nod, cocking your head to the side just slightly as you peer up at him. “‘Course I do, honey, what’s not to like?”

Again, he gawks at you, blinking in shock and swallowing nervously.

“I –” 

“I do have one question though…,” you tease, pouting a bit as you slowly and carefully undo the very top button on his shirt, relishing the way his breath hitches in his throat. 

“Y-Yeah?” His voice breaks, making you giggle while he blushes somehow deeper.

“Mhm,” you nod, undoing the second button and pausing when you find a splash of hair across his chest, the same shiny wheat color as the hair on his head, causing a familiar knot to begin twisting itself up in your belly, “Why were you at the end of term party?”

He blinks for a second, evidently taken off guard. “I… W-Was it invite only?”

His question nearly makes you snort and you shake your head, the corners of your lips twitching as you try not to laugh. “No, sweetie,” you peer up at him through your lashes as you rest your hand against his bare chest, smirking ever so slightly when he shivers, “I just meant, I haven’t seen you at parties before… doesn’t really seem like your kind of thing.” 

“I, well,” he stammers, the bottoms of his glasses fogging up from the heat radiating off his cheeks, “I just –”

“It’s for that club, yeah?” You ask finally, giggling at the shocked expression on his face.

“How do –”

“You lot are not nearly as sneaky as you think,” you laugh cheekily, bouncing excitedly on the balls of your feet, “Plus, I heard Felix and Oliver whispering about something to do with tasks a few weeks ago… and boys are very bad at keeping secrets once you get their cocks out.” You add with a little giggle, taking Michael’s hand once more and dragging him over to your plush bed. You sit him on the edge before all but climbing in his lap, smiling cheekily as you straddle his thighs, your knees digging into your soft bedding.

“So,” you start, holding onto his shoulders to balance yourself and smiling a little when he finally touches you, lightly resting his hands on your hips, “What’s your task, hm? I heard they made them, like, particularly brutal this year.”

“I don’t think I should say,” Michael murmurs with a little shake of his head, making you pout.

“Oh, come on!” You bounce on his lap a little, not missing the way his eyes seem to be drawn to your breasts like magnets, “I want to help! Is it something at the King’s Arms?”

“N-No, I really don’t think –”

“I know they keep the important rugby trophies there,” you think aloud, still playing dumb, just wanting him to say it, “Is that it? D’you have to steal one? One of the boys that works there owes me, I could get him to let you in after hours…” You prattle on, speaking faster and faster as Michael shakes his head beneath you.

Finally, he seems to reach a breaking point and his grip on your hips tightens. “I have to fuck you!” He blurts out before sighing.

“Oh, really?”

“I… I have to fuck you –”

“Mhm?”

“And prove I did somehow.”

“How interesting!”

He narrows his eyes at that and peers up at you suspiciously, studying you carefully. You can’t help but giggle, loving the way you feel when his eyes are on you, and you smirk when he finally blinks in realization.

“You… you knew this whole time, didn’t you?”

A sly smile spreads across your lips as you nod, squirming excitedly on his lap. “Like I said,” you chuckle with a little shrug, “Not. Sneaky!” You tease, punctuating each word with a little boop to the tip of his nose, unable to resist. 

He stays silent for a moment, gazing up at you with a strange mixture of awe and unease before he finally speaks through a deep sigh. “So, I suppose this is the part where you tell me to leave?”

Well, that comment throws you off. You cock your head to the side, confused, as your eyebrows furrow together. “Why would I ask you to leave?”

He sighs again and grits his teeth, looking dejectedly at the floor. “Come on, love,” he mutters, looking anywhere but you, “I-It’s not like you’d ever want to –”

“Ever want to what?” You ask with a frown, gently grabbing at his chin and tilting his head up, forcing him to meet your gaze, “You think I don’t wanna fuck you, honey?”

“Well, I –”

“Michael,” you say pointedly, raising your brows as you smirk slightly, staring deeply into his blue eyes, “I’m the one that came onto you, yeah?”

“I… I suppose.”

“Mhm,” you hum, nodding your head as you run your fingers through his short hair, not missing the little sigh that leaves his lips when you push yourself closer to him, your chest pressing tightly against his, “And while I’m not thrilled at our first time being for some stupid little task –”

“It’s,” he cuts you off shyly, shaking his head ever so slightly, “It’s – I’ve never…” He stammers, nervously gripping at your waist once more. 

You can’t help but smile softly, so charmed by him over and over. You nod your head knowingly, raising your brows just a bit. “I know, honey,” you whisper reassuringly, “We don’t have to, I’ll let you take a pair of my panties or whatever else, but we don’t need to do anything.”

He sighs up at you again, so taken with you he feels like he could scream, and shakes his head more, grabbing at your hips tighter, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “N-No, I… I want to,” he nods, swallowing anxiously, “I do, I just… don’t really know what I’m doing.”

You nod again, listening carefully as he speaks. “So, is it all new or…?”

He shakes his head and smiles a little, shyly, though the sight of it still makes that knot in your belly tighten further, making you blush on his lap while butterflies swirl around inside you. “I’ve kissed before,” he says lowly, chuckling awkwardly as he seems to get bolder, causing you to shudder when he lightly rubs his hands over your waist and hips, “And done… hand stuff.”

You giggle at his boyish explanation and bite your lip when you smile at him, wiggling in his lap as a heat begins to settle at the apex of your thighs. “Can I kiss you, honey?” 

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat again, making you want so badly to press soft, glossy kisses to it, but you resist, determined to make this good for him. 

“Yeah,” he nods eagerly, blue eyes fixated on your lips.

You smile softly before leaning in and finally pressing your lips against his, both of you sighing at once. One of his hands stays at your hip while the other comes to rest in the small of your back, pressing you more tightly to him as your lips move together, his motions surprisingly fluid and practiced. 

You make a small noise in the back of your throat when you feel his tongue licking at your bottom lip, and eagerly allow him access with a little sigh. Your fingers busy themselves with unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, making him shudder beneath you when you skim your hands over his bare chest and stomach as his tongue flows with your own, the bitter, coffee-ish flavor of the pint he’d had earlier still on his tongue.

Impatient, you pull back long enough to look at him for reassurance, smiling when you earn a little nod. You kiss him once more before tugging his shirt off, flushing when he groans lowly as you trail kisses down over his jaw and neck before swiping your tongue greedily over his Adam’s apple, making his breath hitch. 

“F-Fuck,” he sighs brokenly, bolding tracing over your thigh until his fingers are tucked up under the silky, baby pink material of your dress. His touches make you shiver as goosebumps bloom over your skin, making you whine against the pale column of his throat, “Can I?” He breathes, fingers toying with a strap of your dress while the others slowly inched the bottom of it up higher and higher. 

“God, please,” you mewl, nodding against his throat, your head on his shoulder. He shudders at the feel of your breath on his neck and nods once before tugging at the bottom of your dress. You sit up to help him, whining when you feel his hard length pressing against your thin, lacy underwear, “You don’t need to ask, Michael. Want you to take me however you want.” You whisper as he tugs your dress over your head, blue eyes meeting yours for a second as he nods before they skim lower, widening as he takes you in on his lap wearing only a bra and panties. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes, making you giggle shyly as you lean in and softly kiss over his cheeks, “You have…you’re – you’re perfect,” he sighs, brazenly cupping your breasts, skimming his thumbs over your nipples through the thin pink fabric of your bra and smiling proudly when he feels them harden at his touch, “You’re perfect, but these are… holy shit.” He repeats, his voice breathy and mesmerized as he takes in your chest for another moment while you softly card your fingers through his golden hair. 

You gasp through a little giggle when you feel his length twitch, even through his trousers, and wiggle on his lap, blushing when the movement earns you a broken groan. “Yeah?” You whisper cheekily, watching as he marvels at your chest for a second longer before quickly unclasping your bra and shrugging out of it, tossing it down onto the floor with his shirt and your dress, “What about now?” You tease, proudly arching your back as you bite your lip.

He groans again, louder than he has all evening, and instantly ducks his head down. The feel of his soft lips wrapping eagerly around one of your nipples makes you cry out, gasping sharply as he sucks at the sensitive bud before he runs his tongue over it. You cradle the back of his head in your hands, fingers lightly pulling at the short strands of hair, as he switches from one breast to the other, kneading whichever one is free with his hand. 

Needing something, anything, you finally pull him off of your chest after a few moments, laughing when he all but whines, and smiling even more when you take in his disheveled appearance – blond hair sticking up at odd angles from where you’d run your fingers through it, cheeks flushed as his glasses sit crooked on his nose, and his blue eyes staring up at you hungrily. 

You shift back on his thighs just enough to snake a hand between the two of you and he gasps when you cup the bulge pressing against the zipper of his khakis. “You want me to suck your cock?” You ask cheekily, lightly squeezing at his length. 

He surprises you by shaking his head no,gulping slightly with an awkward laugh before answering. “I do, I really fucking do, love,” he breathes, kneading at your breasts as he stares up at you sheepishly, “B-But I really want to last and if you… if you suck it, I –”

“Okay, okay,” you stop him with a kiss, “We’ll table it for next time.” 

“N-Next time?” He questions, fighting to keep his eyes open as you press kisses against his neck once more. You nod against his shoulder and press kisses up to just beneath his ear. 

“I’m not letting you go that easy, honey,” you whisper, chuckling when he shivers. You spend another moment softly kissing and biting at his neck before speaking again, “Have you ever eaten anyone out?” You question, pulling back to look at him.

He shakes his head, his eyes flicking between both of yours as he looks up at you. “No.” He answers simply, his voice hardly a whisper. 

You can’t help but smirk coyly and cock your head to the side, running a finger through the little patch of hair on his chest just to see him shudder. “You wanna try it?”

He nods eagerly and surprises you once again by quickly swinging you around, maneuvering you until your head rests on the pillows of your bed. You squeal at the movement, laughing with him as he settles over you, his narrow hips slotting easily between your thighs as you silently marvel at his unexpected strength, the shock of it going right between your legs. 

“You want me to lick your pussy?” He asks lowly, grinning when he sees your eyes widen ever so slightly. 

“You’re quite something, huh?” You breathe, still gazing up at him in surprise. 

“Observant,” he shrugs, smirking as he sits up, kneeling between your legs, “You aren’t the only one who is, love.” He teases, quickly undoing his belt and trousers and groaning as he pushes them down his thighs, stopping at his knees. 

Your eyes go wide at the size of his length, it’s clearly very impressive and it’s not even out of his plaid boxers yet. That smirk stays plastered on his face as he leans back down to hover over you, hastily removing his glasses and sitting them on your desk before sloppily kissing you for a moment, surprising you yet again by trailing wet kisses down your neck. 

“Michael…” You sigh dreamily, arching your back toward him when he starts kissing over your chest. He groans from deep in his chest, mouth pressed against the fat of your breast. 

“Fucking hell,” he curses, teasing your nipple again with the tip of his tongue, “Say it again, love.” 

His simple command sends shivers down your spine and you mewl, squirming underneath him, “M-Michael!” You moan again, fumbling over your words as he sucks at your breast again before he lifts his head. 

“Good girl,” he purrs with a sly, easy smirk that makes your heart jump, a soft sigh tumbling past your lips. He shifts further down the bed, kissing down over your ribs and stomach, his confidence seemingly growing every time he presses his lips against your skin; the thought makes your head spin.

Finally, he hooks his fingers into the lacy sides of your panties, and his eyes peer up at you as he tugs them down over your hips before flinging them onto the floor. “Oh, my God…,” he sighs, staring greedily at your pussy, a broken groan sounds from his throat when you spread your legs more. 

You bite your lip and giggle, smiling shyly as you tangle your fingers in his hair once more. “Like what you see?” 

He nods his head rapidly, making you chuckle again as he stares up at you, an almost pained expression on his face. “I… uh, w-what now?” 

He’s so endearing, you can’t help the little sigh that leaves you and you sit up a little, leaning back on an elbow as you use your other hand to spread your center open. You bite your bottom lip once more when he whines a little, seeing you all spread out before him, flushed folds already slick and shiny. 

“Lick here, honey,” you whimper as you skim your fingers over your clit, so keyed up from only a few kisses that you gasp a little when you feel yourself clench; Michael looks like he may pass out. 

Ever the dutiful student, he gives you one last look before diving in. Your head falls back with a whiny gasp as his tongue snakes over your clit, just as you’d instructed. A long, shuddery moan leaves him, vibrating against your cunt and you watch as his blue eyes all but roll back in his head. 

“Just like that, Michael,” you praise, tugging at his hair ever so slightly, which only serves to make him moan more. Your chest heaves as you watch him, determined not to let your eyes squeeze shut while he licks and kisses and sucks at your pussy like a man possessed, “Holy shit!” You whimper loudly when he pushes his tongue into you, groaning lowly when he feels your walls clench around it as he presses his nose perfectly against your clit. 

“You taste so good,” he gasps, wrapping his hands around your thighs to keep you exactly where he wants. He peers up at you through blond lashes as he feasts on you, sucking eagerly at your clit and savoring the way you shiver and squirm from his motions. 

Unbelievably, you already feel that warm, familiar tug in your belly beginning to grow, making your whole body feel flush and taut. “Just like that, just like that,” you whine urgently, grabbing onto his hair tighter and guiding his mouth exactly where you need it, your eyes finally rolling back and fluttering shut, “Holy fuck, don’t stop!” 

Michael grunts as you tug at his hair, his own hips rutting greedily against your pretty bedding — cock throbbing so hard there’s no doubt he’s leaked through his boxers. He watches you carefully, studying your movements and reactions as best he can while he rhythmically licks at your clit. 

“Oh, shit!” You cry not even a moment later, your whole body seeming to stutter as your muscles finally relax. You mewl as your high finally washes over you, savoring the way Michael groans into your cunt as he feels it contracting on his tongue. Your eyes stay squeezed shut as shivers roll up and down your spine, shuddered cries leaving your lips. 

Just as his touches begin to border on overstimulation, you have enough wherewithal to push him away, and he releases your center with a lewd little pop. 

“Was that good?” He asks through a breathless laugh, swallowing as he looks up at you, evidence of your arousal still shining on his lips and chin. 

“Good?” You huff, eyebrows raised as you gaze down at him, “You’re sure you’ve never done that before?” You question in disbelief, chest still heaving. 

He smiles shyly, already pink cheeks seeming to flush deeper from your praise as he chuckles. You cup his cheeks when he leans over you again, whimpering as you taste yourself on his tongue. 

“You’re unbelievable.” You sign as he kisses down your neck again, making him chuckle against your skin. 

“Just observant,” he grunts, shuddering when you wrap your legs around his trim waist. You gasp as his length brushes over your still sensitive pussy, impossibly hot and hard even through the thin fabric of his boxers. His fragmented sigh makes you smile and you tug his head up, blushing as you look up at him. 

“You ready, honey?” You breathe, giggling when he nods his head again eagerly, his hips stuttering instinctually against your center. “Here, let me…” You trail off, the two of you separating for a moment as you lean over and pull open the top drawer of your desk, pulling out a pack of condoms and tearing one off before laying back down. 

You watch enraptured as he kneels between your legs again, pulling down his boxers finally. “Holy…” you gasp when his cock finally bobs free, twitching up to rut against his lower stomach; he’s long and thick, curving a little as veins run up the underside, leading to a flushed, leaking head. He smiles shyly again at your attention as he shuffles awkwardly out of his trousers and underwear, kicking them off and onto the floor.

You hand him the condom and watch as he rolls it on, giving him a little reassuring smile as he does. Once it’s securely in place, you pull him back to you, eagerly kissing him once more and wrapping your legs securely around his waist. Both of you moan in unison when his length glides through your folds, the head catching perfectly on your clit. 

He pulls away with a little gasp, hovering over you as he glances down at your hips. “S-So, I just…” He trails off, watching as you reach down with one hand, grunting softly when you wrap your hand around his cock. 

Carefully, you position him at your entrance and angle your hips a little. “Go on, honey,” you encourage with a soft smile, running your other hand over his chest. 

Nodding once, he presses forward and swears he sees God. “F-Fucking hell,” he groans, loudly sighing your name as he carefully guides himself into you, absolutely in awe at the way your hot cunt grips him. His eyes squeeze shut, his hips resting firmly against yours as his chest heaves, breaths coming in short, sharp pants. 

You aren’t fairing much better, head spinning at the way he splits you open, pressing incessantly at each and every sensitive spot within you. You pant against his neck as he stills, pressed deeply within you. 

“D-Do… fuck, do I just…?” Michael stutters, giving half-hearted little thrusts to test the waters. 

“Yes!” You answer instantly, anxiously nodding up at him as your hips wiggle against the bedsheets, making him swear and shudder above you, “Just move, honey, do what feels good.” 

He groans again and gives a little nod before experimentally moving his hips again, pulling out more this time before pushing back in. “Shit,” he breathes above you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he grunts with each roll of his hips. 

You pant underneath him, spurring him on by pressing your feet against his backside, urging him to move faster and faster as the frilly lace from your socks tickles his pale skin. “You’re doing so, so good, oh, my God,” you breathe, your voice high-pitched and whimpery as you tangle your fingers in his hair again, knowing by now that it drives him crazy. 

Above you, Michael’s hips slowly but surely begin to stutter, his thrusts starting to peter out as his breathing picks up. “I’m —!”

“Wait!” You blurt suddenly, smiling wickedly as he comes to a screeching halt, pushing himself up enough to stare down at you with wild eyes, “I have an idea…” You tease with a little giggle. 

“W-What?” 

“You have a phone, yeah?” 

“…Yeah?”

“One that can, like, take video?” 

“Yes?” 

“Grab it,” you laugh, pushing him off of you with a laugh. He rolls his eyes with a smirk but does as you ask, clumsily pulling himself from your heat before stumbling over to where his khakis had landed. He shuffles about for a second before pulling a silver phone from the pocket of his trousers. 

“Now what?” He asks curiously, positioning himself back between your thighs, cock twitching meanly. 

“Film me.” 

“What?!” He gapes at you, brows creased. 

“Film me, honey,” you giggle, biting your lip conspiratorially, “For your little task, you need proof, yeah?” 

“Well, yeah, b-but I can just take your panties or something, I don’t —“

“Or you could bring back something better…” You smirk, shrugging your shoulders playfully, “We don’t have to but… it could be kinda hot?” 

He pauses for a moment, eyes flicking between you, your pussy, and the phone in his hand before he nods once, curtly. “We… we can try it.” 

“Yeah? You wanna?” 

“Yeah,” he quips, catching you by surprise as a mean little smirk spreads over his lips, “Wanna see the look on Catton’s face when he sees you creaming on my cock.” 

Your eyes widen and you huff out a shocked laugh, a zing of electricity lighting behind your eyes. “You’re insane,” you say softly, an endeared smile on your lips. 

He snickers, his whole demeanor seeming to change before your eyes as he transforms from this shy, stuttering boy into an astonishingly cocky man. “You like it, love,” he teases, grabbing his dick and positioning himself at your entrance yet again. 

“Wait!” You giggle again, blushing as he groans. 

“You don’t want to anymore?” 

“No, no, not that,” you assure him, affectionately running your hand down one of his shockingly muscular arms, “You can film me… on one condition.” 

“‘N what would that be?” 

“Take me on a date.” You breathe, suddenly shy. You know he’ll agree to it, but even still, your heart pumps wildly in your chest. 

He stares at you for a second, blinking dumbly as he processes your request. “You want me to take you on a date?” He asks, flushing so deeply that the soft pink hue cascades all the way down to his chest. 

Giggling, you nod your head, giving his forearm a reassuring squeeze. “You need to start giving yourself more credit, honey.” 

He sighs at that, a little astounded huff, before he’s suddenly grabbing at your calves and pushing your legs up toward your shoulders, all but bending you in half, anxious to get his cock back into you. You gasp at the movement, and chuckle at his eagerness, a sound that morphs into a whiny moan when he slides back home. 

“Christ,” he grunts, shoulders heaving as he gets used to the way you feel around him once more, “Y-You feel so good, love, fucking perfect.” 

“You’re so big,” you whine, nodding as you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky, “You’re so good, Michael, you have no idea.” 

He groans above you, hands shaking as he grabs for his phone, flipping it open and quickly opening the camera as his hips rut into you, making the springs of your bed creak softly. 

As soon as Michael gives you a little nod to let you know he’s filming, you truly put on a show — or well, you at least stop trying to quiet yourself down and be conscientious of the people in the rooms next to you. The way he has your legs bent back makes him feel somehow bigger and causes his cock to hit that sensitive spot within you with pinpoint accuracy every time he thrusts in, making you clench around him and moan loudly each time he moves his hips against you. 

You watch as he angles the camera down a bit, no doubt pointing it at the spot the two of you are joined together, letting the camera record his cock sliding in and out of you. When he moves it back up, however, to get your face as evidence, you plaster on the cheekiest grin you can muster. 

“H-Hi boys,” you tease breathlessly, smirking as you lean up on one elbow. You wave with your other hand before blowing a kiss to the camera, which makes Michael cockily laugh.

“Fuck, I gotta…” he mutters after a few more seconds, carelessly dropping his phone down on the bed before roughly grabbing at your thighs with a bruising grip, one that makes you mewl and arch your back toward him. The two of you moan and whimper in unison as he begins thrusting wildly, seemingly too worked up to care about anything but cumming. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant over and over, head spinning as he bullies your sweet spot. 

“That’s it, love,” Michael murmurs, his voice gruff and low as he stares down at you, strands of his hair sticking to his forehead; he looks wilder than you’ve ever seen him, the thought only serving to push you closer and closer to the edge. “S-Shit, that’s it. Fucking come for me, cream on my cock; please, please, please,” he murmurs, leaning down to press desperate kisses against your neck and collarbones. 

The new position causes his pubic bone to rub deliciously over your clit, making you seize beneath him with a loud whine. Your toes curl, heels still pressing into the small of his back. “M-Michael, holy fuck!” You practically squeal as your high finally washes over you once more, stars dancing behind your eyelids as you go lax and pliant underneath him. 

The feel of your walls pulsing around his cock has Michael reeling, his hips somehow thrusting even faster as he both desperately wants to cum while also never wanting this feeling to end. “C-Cum, honey, cum,” you pant softly, cupping his cheek with one hand and turning his face toward yours. 

That does him in and the rubber band in his belly viciously snaps, making him shudder above you as his thrusts come to a halt, cock twitching wildly inside you as he empties himself into the condom. You watch him in awe, taking in every detail from the way his nose scrunches up as his eyes squeeze close to the way he whispers your name over and over like a prayer. 

The two of you lay in silence for a moment, his breath warm against your neck as he slumps against you trying to catch his breath. 

Eventually, you can’t help it anymore and let out a breathless giggle, which only intensifies when he props himself up on an elbow to peer down at you with a smirk. 

“Something funny?” 

“Just,” you breathe, trying to calm yourself enough to get words out, “Just… wow,” you finally say, giggles petering out as you look up at him, the soft gleam in his eyes makes your heart clench in your chest. 

“Good wow?” He blushes, looking down between the two of you as he pulls himself from your walls with a little hiss. 

“Very, very good wow,” you confirm, grinning as you watch him pull off the condom before he peers up at you with a sheepish grin. “Tie it off, honey,” you instruct, smirking as he does just that, before nodding to the little wastebasket by your desk. 

He gets up with a groan and quickly tosses the condom in the trash before turning back to you, the bashful look on his face making you blush. 

Unable to resist, you grin at him and spread your arms with a giggle, wordlessly inviting him for a cuddle, which he gladly accepts. The bed creaks slightly as he lays back down, relaxing his head on the pillow just beside yours. Again, the two of you stay silent for a moment, content to merely gaze at one another, before he shyly looks away and sighs. 

“I…,” he starts, blue eyes blinking and flitting around your room as he gathers his thoughts, “Thank you,” he finally says, looking back at you with a little half smile. 

Your brows furrow at this as you grin at him. “What’re you thanking me for?” 

“Well, f-for… this,” he says, gesturing vaguely at the two of you before sitting up just slightly and fishing around in the blankets for a second. “And this,” he sighs, holding his phone up before twisting around to set it on the corner of your desk, turning back to you. “I just… I know you didn’t have to, is all, so…” 

You cock your head to the side as you prop yourself up on an elbow, eyes narrowing as you study him closely. “And people have the nerve to say I’m thick,” you joke, lips spreading into a wide grin as you gaze down at him, “I wanted to do all this, Michael. I’m the one that came onto you, remember?” 

“W-Well, yeah, but —“

“No buts!” You laugh, pressing a finger against his lips as you shake your head, “I have eyes too, you know.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“You haven’t been the only one watching someone for months,” you giggle shyly, pressing your forehead against his, “I meant what I said about that date, too.” 

His arms wind around your waist, holding you tight as he processes your words with a dumbstruck smile, blushing under your gaze. “Whatever you say, love,” he concedes finally, pressing his lips against yours sweetly. 

He yawns tiredly when he pulls away from you after a moment, which only makes you yawn as well, and you glance over at the little clock on your dresser. “Christ,” you gasp, turning back to him, “I didn’t realize it’s already almost four… you can crash here, if you want?” 

He considers it for a moment, knowing he has to be back in that stupid little basement by noon and making a mental map of where exactly your dormitory is in relation to the Merton College Chapel. “I… I can stay, yeah,” he finally nods after a moment. 

“You’re sure?” 

“Love, I’m not sure my legs work well enough yet to walk out of here anyway.” 

Michael

Groaning, Michael slowly blinks his eyes open, rubbing them softly as he sits up in bed with a yawn. Blindly reaching over for his glasses, he’s confused when he doesn’t feel them in their usual spot and finally opens his eyes properly. 

He stares, confused for a moment as to how exactly he somehow got transported into what appears to be Barbie’s damn dream house, before the events of last night come flooding back to him. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes when he turns his head and sees your still-sleeping form beneath your flowery sheets, your hair tousled wildly on the pillow as your shoulders rise and fall evenly still with each breath. Looking around, he finally spots his glasses and puts them on before reaching for his phone, and cursing again when he sees the time. 

11:47 AM. 

He practically falls out of your bed as he tries to extricate himself from the sheets, and he hears you wake with a start behind him as he grabs wildly at his clothes on the floor. 

“Michael?” You ask questioningly, your voice still hoarse from sleep as you, frankly fucking adorably, rub at your eyes before fixing him with a curious look. 

“Gotta, shit, gotta run,” he explains quickly, cursing as he nearly loses his balance trying to tug his trousers on, “Need to be at Merton Chapel in, like, Christ, ten minutes!” 

“Ohh,” you giggle softly, watching with amusement as he finishes getting dressed, hair and clothes so disheveled that he’s sure he looks like the very definition of the walk of shame. 

Just as he’s tugging his shoes on and making a mad dash for the door, you stop him. “Here,” you smirk, holding out the same lacy pair of pink panties you wore last night, “For proof,” you explain, nodding to the phone in his hand, “Along with that. Should be more than enough,” you giggle proudly. 

He smiled sheepishly as he pockets your underwear. “T-Thanks,” he nods, turning to leave before you stop him once more. 

He can’t help but blush when you lean in and press and quick kiss to his lips, your cherry chapstick rubbing off on him some. Pulling away, you playfully smack his chest with a little grin. “Go get ‘em, honey.” 

Nodding, he smiles again before finally pulling your door open and bounding down the hallway. “I’ll text you, love!” He calls, peering back just before he rounds a corner, “About that date!” 

It’s 11:58 on the dot when he flings the basement door open, only to be pulled over to the same stupid dank basement wall, his back hitting it once more with a dull thud. 

Glancing around, he sees the ski-masked boys again, all fifteen of them, standing in a row with the head boy slightly out of line. To his left stands one of the other initiates, clutching a black tube of some sort. 

The basement stays silent for a moment before one of the masked boy’s watch alarms goes off just as the bells in the tower begin to chime. 

Once, twice, all the way up to twelve. Noon.

Right on cue, the head boy steps forward even more and looks between Michael and the other initiate. “Your friend couldn’t be bothered to show his face, then?” He asks, dark eyes peering at the boy next to Michael. 

He scoffs and shakes his head, glaring at the head boy. “He’s still at the bank!” He snaps, “All the way in bloody Switzerland,” he kicks at the dirty stone floor as he explains, “Dickhead,” he finally mutters lowly under his breath. 

“Shame,” the head boy quips, clasping his hands in front of his waist, “Some men are simply not cut out for Bullingdon.” 

The boys in the row behind him nod knowingly, each making some little noise of affirmation until the head boy quickly stops them, holding a fist up by his head, bringing it back down to his side when they shut up. 

“So, initiates, what’ve you got?” 

The boy next to Michael steps forward first and hands the black tube to the head boy with a sigh. “There,” he says, gesturing to it, “There’s your bloody map. My mum could get sacked for that.” 

The head boy pops open one end of the tube, a document sleeve Michael now realizes, and gingerly extracts a rolled up piece of parchment from it, unrolling it just enough to confirm it's what they asked for. 

“Well done, initiate,” he nods, seemingly impressed as he flashes a smile at the boy, white teeth gleaming creepily through the slit in his ski mask. Carefully, he rolls the document up again before sliding it back in the tube, “Your commitment to Bullingdon will take you far. Welcome to the fray.” 

The boy stands still for a moment, eyeing the document tube with an almost regretful expression before curtly nodding and taking his place back against the wall. 

“And then there was one,” the head boy murmurs, dark faze fixed on Michael, “I seem to remember we gave you quite the… interesting task indeed, initiate. How did you manage?” 

Smiling damn near arrogantly, Michael all but skips up the head boy and proudly pulls your panties from his back pocket, letting them dangle from his index finger. “See for yourself.” 

The head boy grabs them by the edge and studies them for a moment, turning back to the row of boys behind him with a questioning glance. The boy Michael knows already to be that cunt, Oliver Quick, glances between him, the panties, and Michael, before cutting a sideways glance to a tall boy standing next to him. 

“These could be anyone’s,” the head boy says, turning back to Michael as he shakes his head, “You could’ve nicked them from your sister or something, we’ll need more than this, initiate.”

“Don’t even have a sister,” Michael quips, shrugging his shoulders with a little frown. 

“Okay, like, your cousin or something then –”

“Don’t have a female cousin,” he says with a shake of his head, “All boys.”

“The point still stands!” The head boy finally snaps, making Michael bite the inside of his cheek to hide a little laugh, though the corner of his lips still quirks up in a smirk, “You haven’t got any proof, do you? Is that why you’re stalling?”

Huffing a little laugh, Michael finally lets himself smirk meanly and steps closer to the head boy as he pulls his phone from his pocket, flips it open, and navigates to his video gallery. “Is this enough proof?” He teases, pressing play on the most recent video. 

The picture is small and grainy but there’s no doubt as to what’s happening as the sound of your pretty whimpers and moans echoes around the brick basement, along with the wet smack of Michael’s cock driving into you again and again. 

The head boy stares at the screen still as curiosity gets to a few of the boys in the row behind him and they all come crowd around Michael’s phone, eyes widening behind their ski masks and mouths falling open. 

The tallest one, the one Oliver keeps glancing at, lets out a long sigh as he peers down at the small screen and brings a hand up to his head as if he were going to run it through his hair before remembering the mask he has on. With him this close, Michael finally notices the little silver barbell stuck through his eyebrow and shivers as his lips curl up into a sadistic Cheshire cat smile, a tidal wave of savage pride crashing through his system. 

Finally, fucking finally, I get something he wants, he thinks as your breathy moans continue to pour from the speaker of his phone, tinny and muffled in some spots where he’d accidentally covered the microphone, but beautiful, beautiful and because of him.

After a moment, the video ends, the tiny phone screen reverting back to it’s little thumbnail as the head boy peers up at Michael, the rest of the club members taking their places back in line, though he can’t help but notice that Felix’s broad shoulders are slumped now and Oliver stands ever closer to him, like some kind of fucked up bodyguard. 

“I’ll be damned, initiate,” the head boy sighs with a shake of his head, “I really didn’t think you had it in you.”

He watches as Michael merely nods and pockets his phone again, holding it tightly in his fist even still. After a second, he smiles widely and claps a hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly.

“Welcome to Bullingdon.”

Some time later, Michael finally exits the basement, a few of the club members, sans ski masks now, nodding goodbye to him as they disperse across campus, meeting adjourned. 

He wasn’t really sure what he’d been expecting from the initial meeting but it was mostly them prattling on about where exactly they had all their grubby little fingers, poked in seemingly every facet of society from Parliament to local newspapers. 

Braggy cunts, Michael thinks as he ambles outside, glancing up at the sky as he steps into the Mob Quad, surrounded by stony old buildings. 

Smiling to himself, he pulls out his phone and quickly finds your number in his contacts list, blushing when he sees you’ve taken the liberty of adding some girly heart emoticon next to it. He hardly has time to press it against his ear before you answer.

“Well?” You demand with that now familiar giggle, some unfamiliar pop song playing in the background.

“I’m in,” he confirms, nodding to himself as he slowly walks in the direction of his dormitory, “Thanks to you.” He smiles like an idiot when you laugh.

“Don’t sell yourself short, honey,” you tease, he can picture your bright, glossy smile in his head, “You earned that spot.”

Michael merely shakes his head with a happy little sigh. “So,” he starts, clearing his throat and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “About that date… I was thinking the King’s Arms? Tonight at six, if that works?”

“Oooh, tonight at six,” you repeat teasingly, an image flashing in his mind of you twirling your hair around a perfectly manicured finger, “Someone’s quite eager, hm?”

“Can you blame me?”

“Hmm, I suppose not,” you giggle, pausing for a second, “It’s a date then.”

“Fantastic,” Michael sighs, trying with every fiber of his being to sound casual and cool about the whole thing, even as his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. 

“See you tonight, Mr. Bullingdon,” you tease, making a little kissy sound into the phone before hanging up. 

Michael pauses for a moment, standing to the side on the pavement as he nods to himself. If it weren’t so fucking cheesy, he’d raise his fist in the air, victorious, à la Judd Nelson at the end of The Breakfast Club. 

Instead, he flips his phone back open and navigates back to your video. Sighing, he stares at the little thumbnail for a second before deleting it, pocketing his phone once more, and continuing back to his dormitory. 

He has the real thing now.

taggled lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @imawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc @moonriseoverkyoto @wolfdressedinlace @do-double-g @kennafild

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

Thorough

aemond x preg!sister!wife!reader 

Summary: Aemond is overprotective while you’re pregnant but never ceases to make sure you have everything you need and are well satisfied. 

Warnings: 18+ p in v, oral(f receiving), swearing, bondage(but like not intense? idk!), nipple play, lactation kink, breeding kink, description of birth but not super intense 

Authors Note: i’ll literally secure this man’s line whether it’s 1 or 20 kids idec, im not ready to write a full birth scene yet, this is me testing the waters since im going to write a literal "x preg!reader" series soon

Word Count: 3.6k

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

“And you’re positive?” Aemonds voice carries through the maesters chambers as I lay back on the bed. 

“With all of my years of study and her symptoms they both are telling me yes, my Prince.” he nods his head. 

My hands hold onto my lower abdomen as my head spins. I’m with child already and we’ve only been wed one turn of the moon. Aemond has been very thorough waiting for this news so I can’t say I’m surprised. A smile splits across my face as his hand joins mine. 

Aemond is quickly pulling me up to my feet and ushering me out of the maesters chambers as he shouts after us to send word to him if we need any help. He has us down the stairs and turning the corner to our chambers hauling me along with him. 

“Aemond slow down.” I giggle as he tugs me into our chambers. 

His lips are on me the instant he turns to me. He starts pulling off my dress and backing me to the bed. I squeak as I fall back onto our bed as he starts to undress before me. He’s crawling over me in no time and I feel his hardened length against my thighs. His hands roam all over my body stopping at my breasts. 

“I cannot wait to see these swell with milk.” he rolls my nipples between his fingers. “Along with your stomach round with our child.” he groans as he captures my nipple with his mouth. 

My breasts have been more sensitive than usual, which was the first sign. Aemond refuses to leave them alone and turns me into a whimpering mess any chance he can get. As he suckles I push my chest up into his face as I hold him to me. 

“Gunna fuck you until you’re full of my seed just to make sure you’re with child.” he mumbles against my chest and I squirm beneath him. 

He kisses back up my neck and lets a hand travel down to my core. He slides his fingers down my slit and chuckles at my wetness. He dips two long fingers into me and I let out a shaky breath. He brings his thumb up to swirl slowly around my bud and I clench around his fingers. I come undone and he’s quickly replacing his fingers with his length. 

“Already squeezing me so good.” he groans as he rolls his hips. “Can’t get enough of my seed can you, my greedy little wife?” he pants as he starts to pound into me.

“Aem, please,” I whine as I cling to him. 

He captures my lips as he continues with his fast pace. I whimper into his mouth as I feel pleasure sneak up and wash through me. His hips slow as they start to pump into me slowly, hitting deep within me. He rests his forehead against mine as our hips meet seeking more pleasure. I feel his warmth start to spread throughout me as I moan holding him close. He continues to grind his hips into me as he keeps pushing his seed into me. 

Our pants mingle as he slowly settles in me. My body is vibrating as he refuses to pull out leaving me completely full of him. He rests above me and we kiss each other desperately. After a couple minutes I feel him start to harden again inside me. I whine as I feel him start to move his hips once more. 

“You can take it.” he grunts as his fingers start to swirl around my bud. 

Between his fingers and his slow pumps I’m clenching around him again. After I come down I can feel that he’s fully hard and I feel him smile against my neck as he starts to rut into me. I’m whimpering beneath him as he continues to circle my sensitive bud. 

“Aemond I can’t-“ my body starts shaking from pleasure and he chuckles lowly. 

“You can.” he purrs as his hips start to move even quicker. 

A moan tears through me as I explode around him and I feel him begin to fill me once more. My eyes squeeze shut as pleasure continues to course through me in waves. He settles in me once more but this time he flips us so I’m resting against his chest. I rest my head listening to his heartbeat as we come down from our highs. Every once in a while he’ll push his hips up into me pulling a soft whimper from my lips. 

“Rest, my beautiful wife.” he hums petting my hair. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

5 months along

Aemond and I have been getting into spats about what I can and cannot do. He’s become so fiercely protective that I can’t even leave our chambers without him on my heels. Today’s fight is about me wanting to ride on dragonback which he hasn’t allowed me to do in almost a fortnight and I’ve had enough. 

“I want to go out riding.” I huff looking up to him with my hands on my hips. 

“And I said I would take you out on Vhagar.” he looks down at me equally as stubborn. 

“I want to go on my dragon.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Vhagar is larger than the seven fucking kingdoms and you want me to climb up her?” I walk closer to him. 

“Do not use that tone with me.” his nostrils flare. 

“I’m going out on my dragon and that’s final.” I roll my eyes and go to walk past him to exit our chambers. 

“You will not.” he grabs my arm. “You will ride Vhagar or me.” his eyes darken as they go to my growing stomach as he spreads one of his hands across it.

“Aemond.” I warn hoping he doesn’t catch my blush creeping up my neck. “Let me ride my dragon and then you can keep me in bed for the rest of the day.” I know my blush is visible by the way he’s smirking at me. 

“I could keep you in bed now if I wanted.” he pulls me to his chest. 

“Please, husband.” I look up to him with pleading eyes. “Please,” I cup his face begging at this point. 

“You know I can never say no to you.” he relents shaking his head. “Gods I would do anything for you.” he dips down to kiss me. 

“Do not try to distract me.” I pull away and tug him to the doors. 

He has a carriage bring us to the pits within minutes. The servants and the guards try to steer clear of him. He’s been particularly hellish this past month once I started showing. If a man stares at me for too long he threatens to take their head. I’ve had to pull him away multiple times from quaking guards who feel his wrath. I was starting to think he already yelled that the dragon keepers to not allow me to ride. 

“If anything feels wrong land immediately and I will carry you back.” he looks to me intensely as we wait for my dragon to come out. 

I roll my eyes at him before a smile breaks across my face and my dragon emerges. She stops in front of me and chuffs softly nudging into my hand instead of my swollen stomach. I pat her happily and she sings a soft song. 

“How I’ve missed you.” I coo as I hug her. “Shall we go for a ride?” I smile as she dips down lower than normal to accommodate me. 

I climb on with ease and settle into my seat. I fasten my belts and clips and look down to Aemond. I see the worry painted across his face as he looks up to me. 

“I have half a mind to tell you to get down.” he calls up to me. 

“I have half a mind to burn you where you stand.” my tone playful. 

“I love you.” he smiles up to me. 

“I’ll see you in the skies.” I hum as my dragon leads us out of the pits. 

Once she’s in the sky I let out a laugh of euphoria. The wind in my hair and the sun on my skin is exactly what I needed. We fly around the city as we wait for Aemond to make his way to Vhagar. I hear her groan from the city limits as she makes her way into the sky. We make our way to Vhagars side and she gives out a deep grumble. 

My dragon and I twirl around Vhagar and I can feel the concern radiating off of Aemond. I care not about the scolding I’ll receive later. For now I enjoy the freedom of the breeze and laugh wildly. After an hour I relent and make my way back to the pits. I have them bring out feed for her and watch her indulge as I wait for Aemond to come collect me. 

“If you must be on dragonback again it will be Vhagar or no one. I can’t believe you would fly around so recklessly while carrying our child.” I sigh figuring this would be his response. 

“So I can’t ride you either, husband?” I look up to him biting my lip hoping I can sway him. 

“I do not jest. I will tie you to the bed if I must.” he holds my arms tightly. 

“What if I want you to tie me to the bed anyways?” my voice low as I look up to him through my lashes. 

He pulls me out of the pits by my arm and I smile trailing after him. The carriage ride back to the Keep is silent and he keeps a firm hand on my thigh at all times. He pushes us through the Keep halls avoiding everyone until he has us sealed in our chambers. He towers over me and grabs my face. 

“Get on the bed.” his voice low as his eye bores into mine. 

I start walking over to the bed as he begins pulling my dress off of me. He leaves me in my slip as I lay back on the bed. He goes over to the posters of the frame to find the silk ribbons we leave tied to them. He grabs one of my hands and he secures it with a knot and moves to my next hand. 

“Is this what you wanted, my naughty wife?” he taunts as he looks over me. I nod my head squeezing my thighs together looking for friction as he strips off his clothes. “Don’t hide from me now.” he rasps sitting on the bed spreading my thighs exposing my dripping core. 

“Aemond,” I whine as his hands ghost up my legs. 

“I shouldn’t let you come but I love the noises you make. So I’ll make you come until I’ve decided you’ve had enough.” he dips his head down and licks up my slit. 

My head falls back into the pillows as he laps at my bud. My body begins to shake as my pleasure already starts to coil. I grind against his face and cry out when his nose brushes against my sensitive bud. His tongue dips into my core and explode around him. 

He licks back up my slit and swirls his tongue quickly around my bud. My legs squeeze around his head as he continues his assault. My hands pull against the silk wishing I could touch him or myself. My hips buck into his face and he chuckles as I come against his face again. 

He snakes up my body and stops above my breasts. He smirks as he dips down and traces over one of my covered nipples with his tongue. My breath catches as I push my chest into his face. When he grazes his teeth against my sensitive peak I give out a soft cry. As he nibbles on one he brings his fingers over to my other to start pinching and pulling as I mewl beneath him.

“Gods are you gunna come from just this alone?” he mumbles against my chest. 

I let out a sob as he pulls my slip up baring me to him. When his hot mouth wraps around my nipple once more I buck my hips up into him. He brings his hand up to grab at my other breast and I let out a tortured whine. My body goes taught as he pinches and pulls and I come undone pulling at the silk. 

“You are absolutely divine.” he chuckles against my chest. 

He trails his tongue between my breasts and licks at my throat. He licks along my lips and finally locks us in a kiss. His hands trail up my arms and interlock our fingers. I arch my body into his trying to get closer. He slowly pushes into me and I whimper into his mouth. He starts a quick pace and watches as my face contorts. 

“I should leave you tied up to this bed for the rest of your pregnancy. Only come up here to feed you and fill you.” I cry out at his words as his hips grind into me. 

He brings his fingers down to my bud and I burst around him. He grunts as his hips slow as my walls flutter around him. He continues to push into me slowly as I pant his name over and over. I feel him twitch inside and when I feel him begin to fill me I come undone with my eyes rolling back. 

“My perfect wife.” he sighs rolling to the side and spreading his hand across my bump. 

“Will you untie me?” I ask still trying to catch my breath. 

“I’m not done with you yet.” he smiles capturing my lips once more. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

8 months along 

I’ve never been more uncomfortable in my entire life. My back hurts and I feel like my breasts are completely full yet seem to expand everyday and it’s becoming too much. All I do lately is take baths and lay in bed. I’m not miserable but I would definitely like this baby out of me sooner rather than later. 

“How is my wife and our child?” Aemond asks the grand maester. 

“You can ask me how I’m doing.” my words have a bite to them as I lay back on the bed as they look down at me. 

“I’m sorry, Princess. I know it’s been a long couple of moons but the babe will come soon.” the grand maester offers me what he thinks is a comforting smile. 

“Mm and how is that looking?” I look up trying not to sound so annoyed. 

“Everything looks good and from how the pregnancy has gone I believe the birthing bed will be kind to you.” the grand maester nods his head and dismisses himself from our chambers. 

“What can I do to make you feel better?” Aemond rests a hand on my stomach. 

“I just feel so tense and I want a hot bath but they won’t let me.” I say tearing up. “My back hurts and my breasts are so tender I can’t even stand having this fabric touch them. I just want some relief.” I hiccup as a tear slips down my cheek. 

“It’s just us, let me remove this.” I nod as he grabs the hem of my sleep dress and lifts it over my head. 

He moves pillows behind my back to help support me better as he helps me relax back into the bed. Tears continue to fall down my face as he helps adjust me and makes me comfortable. 

“What’s wrong?” Aemond whispers as he wipes my tears away. 

“You’re just so gentle and caring with me.” I sniffle. “I love you so much, husband.” my tears fall down faster now. 

“What else can I do to help you?” he smooths my hair looking to me with scrunched brows. 

“Lay with me, please.” I look up to him and he’s immediately getting in bed next to me. 

He holds me close to him and kisses the side of my head. His hands travel to my swollen bump and whisper words of adoration to me. His hands trail up to my tender breasts and I sigh at his soft touch. When his thumb swipes over one of my nipples a strangled whimper leaves my mouth. 

“I’m sorry.” he mumbles as he removes his hand. 

“I just need some of this milk gone.” I whine and his eye snaps to mine. 

“I can try-“ 

“Yes Aemond, anything, please.” I plead reaching for his hand. 

He brings his mouth to one of my nipples and a sigh falls from my lips. As he sucks and laps at my sensitive peak I start to feel the relief I’ve been seeking. I look down to him and see that his eye watching me. I look to him with flushed cheeks as he continues to swirl his tongue around my nipple. I push my chest up into him and he groans against me. 

“Aemond,” my voice strained as I bring my hand to his hair. 

He kisses across my chest and brings my other nipple into his mouth. He offers this one the same attention and affection. I hold him to my chest and give out soft sighs as I smooth his hair. He looks at me with a blown pupil as my breathing becomes more ragged from his tongue. He pulls back from my chest and looks down to me. 

“Thank you,” my voice breathy. 

“Anything else I can offer you?” he kisses me softly laying next to me once more. 

“I want for some relief a little lower.” he chuckles at my words. 

“Mm I wouldn’t want to leave my beautiful wife wanting.” he starts to kiss my neck as his fingers find my sensitive bud with ease. 

“Aemond,” his name falls off my lips like a prayer as he swirls his fingers. 

My legs are already beginning to tremble as I feel wetness pool between them. His fingers slide down my slit and I moan loudly. He brings more wetness back up to my throbbing bud and slowly circles it. My hips buck as much as they can as I feel my pleasure ready to burst. All it takes is his lips attached to my nipple and I’m clenching my thighs around his hand. 

“You’re so perfect. My beautiful wife carrying our child.” he showers me with compliments as my breathing settles and I begin to drift off feeling relief. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

birth 

“Fuck,” my voice breaks as the maester and midwife try to coax me to push again as I’m squeezing Aemonds hand. 

“You’re doing so good.” Aemond wipes my brow with a cool cloth. 

“And you’re doing nothing.” I grit out through my teeth as I feel myself splitting open.

“The babes head!” the midwife exclaims looking up at me. 

“One more big push Princess.” the maester says with a calm voice. 

“What do you think I’ve been fucking doing?” my breathing heavy as I push using all of my strength. 

A half sigh and chuckle leave my lips when I feel the baby slide out. I hear a cry and look down at our child. I turn to Aemond who is still looking at me with reverence at what I just did. They wrap the child in a blanket and bring it to my arms. 

“A healthy baby boy.” the maester says smiling to us. 

They help clean me up and clean up the room before leaving us. I softly caress the babes bright white hair as he stirs in my arms. Aemond holds me closer and wraps his arm around mine that’s holding our child. We sit in silence as a family and Aemond kisses our son’s brow before pulling me into a kiss of our own. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

2 months after birth

I sit in the maesters chambers with Aemond at my side and the babe bouncing on my knee. The maester looks over our son and declares he is still healthy and turns to me to ask how I’m doing. He looks over me curiously as asks how feeding is going and if there’s any tenderness and soreness. I tell him how I’ve been feeling and he looks to us with a smile. 

“I want you both to know that there is no rush,” he chuckles and I tilt my head to him. “but I believe you’re already with child again.” I turn to Aemond with a scowl who smiles proudly. 

“How sure are you?” Aemond asks fussing with our son. 

“As positive as I was the first time.” the maester nods his head and I sigh but smiling nonetheless. 

“At least you both know what to expect this time around.” he smiles as we slowly get up to exit. 

“After this next babe, I will have a break husband.” I look up to him as he holds the doors open for us. 

“Mm of course.” he looks down to me as if he has no plans on not keeping me with child anytime soon. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 🔌 

i’ve never been preg or wrote anything like this so if i fucked anything up please reach out and let me know!! 

taglist ✍️ 

@clarityisnofun @callsignwidow @gabriella-aesthetic @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @1-fuzzy-squirrels @anaviieiraaa @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang