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Edge of Desire

summary | Your efforts in the marital bed stayed fruitless after many moons married to your uncle, and Aemond wants to change that. (based on these requests.)

pairing | aemond targaryen x niece!reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! unprotected sex, oral (f), lovemaking, morning sex, medieval conception practices, awkward pining, enemies to lovers kinda, cockwarming

song rec | Edge of Desire - John Mayer

wordcount | 5.5k

note | something softer with aemond this time around :)

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

“Ow! My hair!”

“Stay still, woman.”

Aemond readjusted his weight above you, grumbling as he leaned on his elbows. He huffed out a hot breath of air, which fanned your face while you lay on your back. His length softened within your walls the longer you stayed connected, preventing any seed from leaking out per the maester’s orders.

It had been nearly a whole year since you proclaimed your vows to your uncle under the eyes of the Seven. Your hand had been offered as a gesture of good faith, arguably a desperate attempt between both sides of your family to mend the rift that has been growing for years. It had worked somewhat, but as the moons passed and your relationship with your husband refused to warm, there have been growing concerns on either side of your family. Your animosity towards each other was no secret, with the vile insults Aemond had thrown against you and your brothers regarding your questionable parentage throughout your youth, which ended of course, in the incident. You had no part during that horrific night in Driftmark, but you were not saved from the consequences of that night. 

Barely a moon after you had turned eight and ten, you sailed towards King’s Landing, to your fate. Your only comfort was the sight of your dear dragon flying above you, watching over you like a guardian. After you were draped by your lord husband with the dark, dragon-embroidered cloak, you made an agreement with each other. Aemond shall have his space, and you will have your own. You shall not bother him, and neither will he. However, you are expected to keep up appearances, at court, at the feasts, and even at the dinner table where queen Alicent pestered you both endlessly with any progress on your efforts in the marital bed. With the lingering friction still driving you apart from your husband, it was no surprise your womb still bore no fruit. He would call you to his chambers to perform your duties for one night each week, sometimes twice, for extra measures. Your efforts remained futile, for his seed never took and you remained childless many moons after your wedding. This growing concern has led to an intervention by the maesters, who recommended a myriad of methods that would aid in your conception.

You were to lay together every morning. Not at night, unless you wanted a girl.

The princess must clench her fist while her husband “did nature’s work”.

Your bed must face the east while you coupled, to ensure it is a boy.

The prince must remain inside the princess for an hour after he has finished to guarantee the seed is taken.

The last measure was absolutely dreadful. It was painful enough to have your womanhood assaulted by a man you rarely saw eye-to-eye with, but to stay there for an hour? Gods be good. 

Aemond let out another grunt in your ear when his left arm grew sore from carrying his weight, shifting to lean onto the other arm instead. You turned your head to look at the hourglass on the nightstand. There was still a good amount of time left, and you silently prayed that the sand passed through the glass faster so you may escape this awful predicament. Your tailbone was starting to grow numb from the lack of movement, causing you to subtly shift your hips upwards to relieve the pressure from your backside.

“Stop it,” your husband hissed, making you huff in annoyance. Aemond rolled out his shoulder to relieve the soreness from the joint, before shifting his weight to do the same to the other. His long, silver hair enclosed you like a curtain, soft and light like the touch of a feather. You would be tempted to feel it under your fingertips if only it wasn’t tickling your face, adding to your aggravation. You moved his hair away from your face, letting out another huff. “Stop acting like this inconveniences only you, wife, I would’ve been much happier spending my mornings down in the training yard. My arms are getting too fucking tired,” Aemond grumbled.

You could feel his muscles start to tremble from the exertion of holding his weight up, unwilling to touch your skin by even a hair. You bit back a snarky response, starting to feel bad for him.

“Can’t we switch positions? Perhaps I could be on top,” you recommended, to which your husband only responded with a grunt.

“No, the maesters said we must stay this way. Any other way would make the seed fall rather than stay in. I do not want to do this any longer than we have to.” 

You snickered at his words, turning your head away to subtly roll your eyes. Despite your irritation, his subtle quivering was making you feel sorry for him. You bit your lip as you thought about what to do. 

“Here, why don’t you…” You placed a hand on his back, urging him to lay against you. Aemond had started to refuse, but you insisted, assuring him he wouldn’t crush you under his weight. With a sigh, your husband relaxed above you, finally letting his arms rest. He laid his head right beside yours, and with only a small turn you could smell the remnants of smoke in his starlit hair, coupled with the rosemary oil rubbed into his tresses every night. His lips ghosted over your shoulder; the skin exposed from when your nightgown had shifted askew. His warmth engulfed you like a warm blanket, his weight surprisingly comfortable. It was quite nice actually, despite your reluctance to admit the fact.

“Is this better?” you asked, your tone simmering down into a softer tone. Aemond hummed in response, turning his head to the side. His lips were now positioned right under your ear, and his every breath fanned the side of your face like a warm breeze on a summer’s day.

“Quite. Though this whole ‘laying for an hour’ nonsense is still quite dreadful, in my opinion,” he muttered. His voice buzzed directly into your ear, pulling a strange twinge in your chest when he did so. You trained your gaze on the embroidery on the roof of the canopy, studying the two dragons seemingly entwined against each other. It was almost like you and Aemond, funny enough.

“It is easy for you to say when men often find the act more enjoyable,” you commented almost bitterly. Aemond was silent momentarily upon your words, before seemingly snuggling even closer to you, though you assumed he was only trying to make himself comfortable.

“Is it so horrible?” your lord husband asked, a subtle hint of concern in his words that you barely caught. You turned to look at the hourglass again. Still quite a bit to go.

“Well, it hurts, more than anything.”

Another silence passed. Aemond’s mind ran a league in a minute at your words, reflecting on the pain he unknowingly inflicted upon you on the times you did your duty. As much as he harbored no love for your family, especially your bastard brothers, you were still his wife. His mother had instilled in him since he was a boy that any woman he would take as his wife should always be treated with respect, for she was an image of the Mother. Granted, Alicent was surely not picturing Rhaenyra’s only daughter beside her favored son upon the altar of the Sept when the day came, but the sentiment still extended to you all the same. 

Aemond shifted his weight back to his hands as he lifted himself once more, so he may look upon your face. It was then he granted himself to really get a good look at you. He may be half-blind, but Aemond knew you were beautiful, there was no denying it. His good eye studied your features, noting the absence of the crease between your eyebrows whenever you were displeased, which was most of the time you spent by his side.

“I have no wish to hurt you,” he whispered.

“I know, ‘tis alright. I am tougher than I look,” you replied softly, your lips turning into a downward smile. Before you could stop yourself, your hands moved to tuck a stray strand of silver behind his ear on instinct. You looked into the purple of his good eye, the other covered by a patch of leather. “Besides, Daemon always used to say men have it much worse on the battlefield, for there is far less mercy when facing your enemies than your own wife,” you added to which Aemond only scoffed in response, shaking his head. Your chest rumbled with a laugh at his reaction, especially after his lips pursed into his signature feline-like pout.

Of course, Daemon would think that way, Aemond thought. His uncle was hardly the image of chivalry for any married couple across Westeros, and it was rather gauche of him to be bestowing any words of wisdom to his stepdaughter about the matters of matrimony. 

All of a sudden, there was an odd feeling in his chest when your eyes seemed brighter than they had even before when you looked at him. He’d seen that light before, when you looked at your brothers, his half-sister, even at Helaena, but never him. You had such beautiful eyes, ones he could swim in their depths forever. Aemond faltered, unsure of what to do with this newfound flutter in his otherwise stone heart. He opted to lower himself to your warmth once more, burying his head into the junction where your neck and shoulder met. The scent of your flesh was naturally sweet, making him subtly press his nose into your skin.

“I am not your enemy,” he said, with a rather unfamiliar softness. He felt your hand come up to rest on his back, resting on the space in between his clothed shoulder blades. A small smile lifted the corners of your lips, one hidden from his view. You turned to look at the hourglass, which had already emptied. You made no move to tell Aemond to get up, but instead, you pressed the side of your face against his own, breathing in the scent of his hair.

“I know, husband.”

Walking through the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast, Aemond thought back to all the depraved remarks Aegon would make him listen to about his experiences in the Streets of Silk— how the whores would touch him, and how he would touch them, making them mewl and sigh in delight. He knew not whether they were doing it only for show, but perhaps in some way his brother might have learned a thing or two in the many years he frequented the stinking streets of Flea Bottom just for a taste of flesh. 

Despite better judgment, his feet led him to his brother’s door. His fist had raised to rap against the old wood, but then he faltered. Though seeking Aegon’s insight would surely be far less embarrassing than continuing to follow through with whatever the maesters have him and his wife doing in the marital bed, the endless jests and amusement the elder shall find in the matter would definitely haunt him for a long time. Your husband did not wish to humiliate you any further, not when the matter has already involved too many people. With a hair’s breadth between his fist and Aegon’s door, Aemond sighed, dropping his hand and turning on his heel to walk away.

He and his brother have had their fair share of women who have warmed their beds, Aegon more so than himself, but they have only ever fucked. It was for their pleasure, to quench the fire in their cocks. It wasn’t tender or sweet, or gods forbid… loving.  He knew he couldn’t treat his wife the same way he did a whore if he wanted your partnership to prosper; he couldn’t treat you this way.

He thought about asking his mother, though letting her know of your problems in bed, even more than what she already knew, would probably do them more harm than good. Perhaps Cole? No, that wouldn’t be a good option. Matters of the flesh are a touchy subject for Aemond’s mentor and father figure, perhaps even more so when the blood of the woman who shunned him is involved. 

It had always been like this for him. A plethora of questions would boggle his young, curious mind, yet there was no one to indulge him. It had hurt him, of course, but he had learned that some things would have to be acquired by his own volition. This is how he had become such a prolific scholar, had come to claim Vhagar, and proven himself a man worthy of praise.

A laughter through the halls snapped him out of his exasperating worries. The glimmery shrill of youth, unmistakenly that of his sister’s babes, beckoned him like a beacon towards the nursery. There he found little Jaehaerys riding his wooden pony, mimicking a horse’s bray as he rocked back and forth. Helaena watched on in amusement, little Maelor clutched in her elbow. And then there was you, tickling his niece’s belly on the floor, a joyous laughter of your own adding to the symphony. You bent to pepper kisses into the crook of Jaehaera’s neck, making the girl squeal and kick her legs in delight.

You were so good with the babes, this Aemond couldn’t deny. You would offer to help Helaena watch over them on most days when she would grow weary and Aegon was away on the council. As much as your husband would try to look the other way, he couldn’t miss the way you looked at them with fondness, how you would press your nose into the youngest’s hair to smell that sweet, milky scent of his skin. Perhaps he would like to see you with a babe of your own. Yours and his, he wondered what they would be like.

“Oh, Aemond, come!” Helaena exclaimed, beckoning him over. It was then he realized he had been standing in the doorway like a fool, and so the prince stepped into the nursery. Jaehaera, after having spotted his approach, jumped to her feet in excitement. Aemond greeted her with a fond smile and a pat on the head, kneeling to her height. You moved your skirts to let your husband settle by your side, your knees slightly pressed against each other.

His eyepatch had been knocked askew when the young princess had gleefully embraced her uncle, and you had quickly righted it in its place. Your touch was light on his scarred cheek, a foreign featherlike caress that sent a slight shiver down his spine.

“Thank you, wife,” Aemond whispered, turning to you. There it was again, that little look on your face. You regarded him with a budding warmth he hadn’t quite known, a smile that rounded out the apples of your cheeks, though he figured it was one you directed to the little girl in his arms. He returned his gaze to Jaehaera, who had handed him a dragon toy to play with, willing himself to pay little mind to your lingering gaze burning the side of his cheek.

You couldn’t quite recall when your affections towards Aemond had started to change, all you knew was your heart didn’t hold the same twinge of displeasure in his presence, nor did you dread having to keep up appearances in court. There were some instances where you even sought him out, had peeked out the Keep’s yard to watch him train some mornings, all without his knowledge of course. Your coupling was still as unpleasant as ever, but you had grown to not mind the feeling of his weight on yours once the hourglass had been turned to start the hour, the pair of you descending into a comfortable silence most times. Going through the motions had gotten easier by the day, a well-practiced dance between the two of you.

You would wake with the sun’s rise, and then make your way to your husband’s chambers. He would be already awake, always, awaiting your arrival. The bed would be quite warm from his heat, thanks to his dragon blood, and it was a pleasant comfort to have. Once the deed was done, you were off to your separate duties for the day. It was routine at this point; therefore, it was quite odd when you were summoned to your husband’s chambers late into the night.

“It is nighttime,” you said when you entered as if it wasn’t quite obvious from the darkness that enveloped his apartments. Your husband was clad in his cotton tunic and breeches, sipping on a glass of wine.

“I know,” Aemond replied, turning to you. He could chuckle at the look of confusion on your face, with your furrowed brows that creased the skin between them, if it weren’t for the odd nerves swarming in his belly.

“Was there something you need?” you asked, accepting the cup of red that was handed to you.

“No, well… perhaps,” he muttered. You gulped your wine, a droplet spilling over the corner of your lips. Before you could act, Aemond’s thumb darted out to wipe away the tear of red that was on its way to run down your chin. You stopped yourself from jerking away, though you couldn’t deny your perplexion. “I just… I figured we could try something.”

“Try what?” you asked again. He was acting odd, with the way he was looking at anywhere but you, a contrast to his usual sharp form. This was starting to grow concerning; gods, he’s not about to kill you, is he?

“Do you trust me?” Aemond asked. He had gotten closer to you, quite close enough that you could feel the warm waft of his breath on your cheeks. His large, calloused palm cupped your jaw, warming up your cheeks. You stared up at him, wide-eyed, nodding your head meekly.

You trusted him, you really did, in an inexplicable, convoluted way. The past would tell you not to, but your time as his wife had shifted your connection into something intimate. Away from the endless troubles within your kin, all the terrible infighting with burning words and stares sharp as knives, you and Aemond found little trouble with each other, especially with the arrangements you agreed upon. After you had said your vows in the great Sept, you spent your first moons as the one-eyed prince’s wife with a guarded vigilance. You blocked the entrance to Maegor’s tunnels with your vanity, had given the first bite of your food to the rats in search of poison, and had even slept with a dagger underneath your pillow in case your uncle came to you in your sleep. There was none of that. Granted, the Hightowers weren’t the warmest, most welcoming bunch, but they treated you well— some of them, at least.

You weren’t sure where you stood with Aemond. You didn’t hate him, not anymore at least, and you would like to believe he wasn’t coming for your head anymore. The pair of you were… fine. You figured this was a comfortable position to be in, and you dared not utter the wish in your heart of hearts, in fear of rejection. The budding light in your chest as he looked at you now, in the dim glow of his chambers, made known what had been growing over the days you spent in his presence. It couldn’t be helped.

And now, as you stood toe to toe with him, your face cupped in his palm, you knew the balance was about to tip over; for better or for worse, however, you didn’t know.

Your breath came out as a shudder as his face descended upon yours, the time moving all too slow in your perception. Your hands tightened into fists in anticipation, your pulse thrumming in your ears so thunderously you could only hope he didn’t feel it. Just as his lips were a mere hair's breadth away from yours, Aemond stopped, sensing the rigid tension in your spine. With a sigh, he leaned his forehead against yours.

 “Aemond, w-what has gotten into you?” you whispered, cautious to not break the solemn air in the room. Your hands came up to rest on his biceps, squeezing at them in question. He was silent for a moment, his eye closed in thought. You waited, patiently.

“I want to make you feel good,” your husband finally uttered in a whisper. You sputtered half words in shock. He did not need to do that, you expected little as a woman and were doing your duty in bed just fine. Why would he willingly want to do so? By the gods… why did he want to?

His thumb caressed your cheek ever so softly, pressing on the supple plumpness under the pad of his finger. He had leaned away, not too far, just enough to gauge your reaction.

Your throat felt dry, and you longed for the cup of wine you had set aside. Your mind ran a league in a minute, the proposition he was offering was one many women would kill their spouses for. Truthfully, you didn’t know what making you “feel good” would entail, your lack of knowledge and experience from your sheltered upbringing limiting your mind on the art of the ways of the flesh.

“Will you let me?” he asked.

You could say no and he would dismiss you, and the night would be over. You would pore on what could’ve been if you had said yes, and you would never know what would have transpired. You could say yes, and this whole thing would be a disaster, an embarrassment if it ended in proving how incompatible you truly were. Or… you would enjoy it, you both would.

You nodded your head again, still untrusting of your own words. Aemond walked you backward to the bed, urging you to lay back once the back of your knees hit the frame.

As his deft hands lifted your nightgown to your hips, you fisted the sheets tight in your hands in angst. You watched him as he watched you, or your womanhood, rather. Your husband’s tongue ran over his bottom lip, his good eye twinkling under the subtle warmth of the dimness in his chambers.  

You felt open… exposed. The urge to cross your legs shut threatened to overwhelm you, but his hands caressing the meat of your thighs prevented you from doing so. He descended upon you, planting a trail of kisses down the inside of your thigh. Gooseflesh rose all over your skin, and you gasped when he came close to your flower, making you grip his shoulder to stop him.

“Aemond…” you breathed out.

“Let me do this for you,” he whispered, taking your wrist to direct his kisses there. “Have faith in me.”

You retracted your hand from his firm shoulder, leaning your weight on your elbow to watch him. His breath was hot against your slit, making you involuntarily clench. He started with light kisses on your mound, then little licks against your slit. His good eye flickered to gauge your reaction, where you had started to bite your lip. Two fingers split your folds open, baring all of you to his hungry gaze. His tongue delved deeper into your slit, penetrating you.

“Oh,” you exhaled, tilting your head back. With a surge of confidence, your husband began to devour you in earnest, licking and sucking. Sweet sounds, ones unheard of before, had started to spill from your lips, and what a delightful song it was.

A finger soon replaced his tongue, entering your gummy walls as though it were his cock. It thrust in and out of you the same way, and when he bent to feel up a rough patch within your walls, your toes clenched as a jolt ran up your spine.

“Good?” Aemond asked, to which you could only respond with a nod and a whine.

His lips found your pearl, and then another finger had joined the other. The prince soon found a rhythm, one that had you writhing and moaning unabashedly. What an odd sensation it was, yet utterly delicious as it was depraved.

The pressure in your stomach built in a steady rise. It sparked your muscles to twitch in Aemond’s hold, growing spasmodic as you were hurled closer to your precipice. You came with a whine, your head thrown back into the feather mattress as your husband guided you to your end.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” you asked, breathless. Black spots danced around your vision of him, swarming around the otherworldly sight of his flushed, glimmering lips and the loose silver strands that framed his face. It quirked into a small smirk as he regarded you, his arms caging you in between his hold. His hair draped around you like a curtain, the wispy ends tickling your nipples through the cotton of your dress.

“I am quite diligent in seeking the knowledge I might find useful, dear wife, and it seems they have proven to be so,” Aemond responded. You dared not ask what he meant, unwilling to learn who he had sucked and licked the way he did you to be so proficient in the act, how he had learned to poke all the right places to earn such lewd sounds from you. You merely hummed, tracing the line of his jaw in a trance.

His deft fingers had grabbed a hold of the straps of your nightgown, pulling them down to bare you fully. You let him, willingly so, encouraged by the look in his good eye that promised you more. His good eye was glued onto your breasts immediately before his warm, calloused hands took them into his hold. They fit perfectly in his palms, much to both of your delight. You bit your lip as he squeezed them, massaging the supple flesh and rubbing on your sensitive bud. Aemond could do this for hours, and if it weren’t for the throbbing in between his thighs, he would’ve done so.

His cotton tunic soon followed, then his breeches, and as he stood before you, cock stood stiff in attention, you get a good look at him. He was utterly handsome like this, bare and unguarded. You beckoned him closer, pulling on the strip that held half of his hair up. Soft fingertips trailed his jaw, his scar, before circling the leather patch that masked his left eye.

“Can I?” you whispered, looking into his good eye as he studied you. Aemond paused for a moment, almost faltering. The warmth of your thighs caged onto the sides of his waist was a welcome comfort, luring him closer to wanting to nestle in your ever-loving heat.

“Tis not a good sight to gaze upon,” he mumbled. You had cupped his jaw when he started to look away, keeping him close with a small smile.

“You are my husband. I wish to have you, all of you, as you will have me.”

A promise. An agreement.

A solemn echo of your vows upon the altar.

I am his and he is mine from this day, until the end of my days.

He had pulled the patch off from the clasp on the back of his head. The sparkle of the sapphire had stunned you in awe, and as you cupped his jaw, the look of wonder on your face and the lift in your lips couldn’t be helped.

“It is beautiful, husband,” you said, beaming up at him. “You are beautiful.”

He had huffed in amusement, planting a kiss on your cheek before mumbling into your skin, “I should be telling you that.”

His stiff length was hot and heavy as it sat against your hip, a reminder of the fire that still coursed through your veins. Aemond pulled away, the look in his eye taking a warmer, softer tinge as did yours. The smile on your lips had melted away to something sincere, hopeful. With a nod, you watched him take hold of his shaft, lining it upon your entrance. His breach was much smoother this time, no stabbing pain that made you scrunch your face, all thanks to his efforts in preparing you. It was rather delightful, a delicious stretch that made you bite your lip as he grunted above you. He would have asked you about the pain, but the deep kiss you had pulled him in to let him know there was little of it.

Aemond’s hips took on a steady pace, rocking into you gently and slowly. It was nothing lewd or animalistic, but rather sensual, intimate. You had never felt closer to him the way you did now, your connection transcending that of something physical. Your husband’s face was buried into the crook of your neck, his grunts and moans traveling straight into your auricle. You fared no better, your mewls echoing into the quiet of the room. Aemond had taken hold of your fisted hand, the godsdamned instructions from the maester taking on memory in your muscles, and he had pried them open. His larger, rougher fingers intertwined with yours, holding onto you for dear life as he took you deeper, and deeper, poking a spot within your womb that made you shiver in delight.

“Aemond,” you breathed out. His aquiline nose pressed into the side of your face, breathing into the sweet scent of your dampening flesh.

“Say it again… say my name again.” His voice was growing raspier by the second, but his tone was ever so soft with you, only you. His lips closed around one of your nipples, sucking on the stiff bud in a way that made you moan.

“Aemond, oh, Aemond! My lord husband,” you whined, holding onto the planes of his back as his pace hastened. His pubic bone rubbed on your pearl, sending shoots of fiery pleasure up your spine. Your grip on him was tight, almost numbing, but he relished in it. He wanted to feel you everywhere, kiss on every ounce of flesh he could, you were his after all.

“My wife, my dearest darling. Will you come for me again? Spill around my cock, hm?” You nodded fervently at his dirty whisper, wanting nothing else to do exactly as he asked. His forehead was prickled with salty sweat when he had pressed it against yours, his lips barely an inch away from yours. The silver-haired prince’s breath mingled with yours, and you had chased him when his tongue darted to lick a swipe across your bottom lip. Your release washed over you the moment he kissed you again, your moans swallowed by his hungry mouth. His length drove into you still, chasing his own release, and your spasming walls massaged him to guide him to his end. Aemond pulled away to look at where you were connected, committing the sight of his cock, painted with a white ring around its base, disappearing into your sweet cunny. His pace grew rhythmless as his hips began to sputter. He was close, evident from the way his eyebrows scrunched together. With a hand on your breast, the other on your jaw, your husband came with an open-mouthed groan, spilling his hot seed into your womb.

Aemond had moved to collapse by your side, but you had pulled him close to your chest, letting him lay on you with his softening length still nestled in your walls.

“Stay.”

You lay there together in silence, breathless, boneless. His hand rubbed on your waist, as did yours on his muscled back, comfortable in the silence you were in.

“I am sorry,” your husband had whispered, before shifting to lean on his elbow to look at you. “For…”

He need not say everything, or anything at all. You knew what he meant. That was all too long ago, almost a lifetime that scarcely felt yours. It was different now between you and him. The world could descend into flames and tear itself inside out, but you and Aemond would not lose each other.

You nodded, tucking a loose strand of silver behind his ear. “I am sorry too, deeply so.”

Slumber had found you while you were wrapped in your husband’s embrace, the heat emanating from his bare body pressed against yours a comforting blanket. In the morn, he had taken you again, slipping into your welcoming walls as you both stayed laid on your side. Aemond had left Cole a waiting fool in the courtyard while he missed his training, a curious deviation from his otherwise strict routine.

You were both learning how addicting this could be, though it seemed neither of you wanted to complain. You could hardly separate from your husband’s hold to dress to break your fast, and the pleasant glow on both your faces at the dining table with the rest of the family was a dead giveaway of the progression in your relationship. With the frequency of how much you latched onto each other every moment you found yourselves alone, it came as no surprise that by the end of the moon, the realm celebrated the growing babe in your womb.

A life forged by your own hand. Yours and his.

𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞

this fuckin Esquire photoshoot has me so feral istg

Summary: You were Helaena's best friend, but her brothers were more than a little interested in you.

Warnings: Modern!AU, mutual pining, tension, angst, eventual fluff, hurt/comfort, slight whump, brief descriptions of domestic violence (from a Lannister), SMUT (MINORS DNI), wet dreams, masturbation, threesome (M/M/F), oral (f and m receiving), praise kink, fingering, p in v sex, anal sex, double penetration, spitroast, and multiple creampies

word count | 7.6k🤙🏻

It had been a couple years since you and Helaena Targaryen became best friends. You both met at university, sharing multiple classes and you just clicked, having similar interests and sharing the same sense of humor. It wasn’t long before she had invited you over for a family night at their estate, meeting most of the family, along with her brothers. 

At first, Aemond didn’t really pay you any mind. He was withdrawn, cautious, even a bit suspicious, as he usually was, though he appreciated that you must’ve been a good friend to his sister. Helaena was never the best at making friends, considered odd to most, so it was a shock to everyone when she said she was bringing her best friend over for a couple nights. You seemed pretty shy yourself, so Aemond made no effort into getting to know you, besides keeping an eye on you to make sure you didn’t cross any lines. Though, that changed after a while.

It took him a few months to start warming up to you, and even then he still wasn’t comfortable being left alone with you. You weren’t quite past the small talk stage, and Aemond absolutely despised small talk, though he was never one to have deep conversations with borderline strangers either. Helaena kept trying to convince him to talk to you sometime, stating how wonderful you were to her and how you’d be a wonderful friend to him as well. So, only for his sister, Aemond started trying to get to know you.

After another couple months, Aemond cursed himself for not trying to get to know you sooner. You were very pleasant to be around, you were kind like Helaena, thoughtful and above all, could keep up with his talks about philosophy. You had very strong opinions, a better word would be convictions. He’d never admit to it, but Aemond admired your sense of justice and how you thought the world should be, even if there were certain aspects of your opinions he’d never believe himself. You listened to him when no one else would, spoke plainly when anybody else besides his family would be too afraid to. It wasn’t long before he gained feelings for you, even though he knew he shouldn’t have. It was hard not to, with you being around almost all the time. Though, that came with another problem.

Aegon.

Though completely different to his brother in almost every way, Aegon did share some similarities with Aemond. When you first arrived with Helaena, Aegon was indifferent. He cared about his family no matter how much he tried not to, so any outsider always put him on edge. But whereas Aemond would be completely withdrawn and prefer to observe, Aegon would be the opposite, trying to talk to you any chance he got, trying to figure out what your game was, if you had any malicious intent with his sister. It was infuriated when he couldn’t find any flaw, any hint that you may have been using them. He cornered you that first night, putting on his favorite mask to try to overwhelm you with accusatory questions.

And despite all of Aegon’s antics, he never scared you away and you never faltered. He got a lashing from Helaena afterwards though, accusing him of trying to scare away her only friend. He rolled his eyes at that comment, he was just trying to see if you were good enough for his sister, that’s all.

Aegon kept an eye on you every time you’d come over, making sure you didn’t nick something from the family. Helaena told him you weren’t like that, not like the company he kept sometimes. Aegon never had a single friend that didn’t try to steal something or ask for money, all of his “friends” were just using him. So maybe he was projecting a little, but he told himself he was just being safe.

To Aegon’s surprise, you had turned the tables on him, cornering him in his own home, asking what his problem was. Truth be told, Aegon was just scared, scared of another person coming into their home just to use them for their money and status to just discard them when they were done. He was more than a little paranoid, he was traumatized. Most of the time, it was Aegon’s fault something was stolen from them. He trusted people too easily, made too many best friends with the wrong people. His own mother threatened to kick him out if he didn’t stop making mistakes; so he quit making mistakes. He wasn’t going to let you be another mistake, even if it would be Helaena making it and not him. He had a feeling he’d be blamed for it anyway, as he often was when something went wrong. He was tired of being the scapegoat, and he hated you for coming there and threatening to undo all his progress.

But you weren’t there to unroot his progress, or take anything from anyone, you just loved being Helaena’s friend; and you wanted to be friends with her siblings as well. And Aegon slowly started to realize that. It took him a while, but he started to see you as you truly were: Helaena’s best friend, close like sisters, looking out for one another. Like Aemond, Aegon hated that he didn’t believe his sister’s kind words about you. He was so afraid of making the same mistakes, he made a completely different one, missing out of being your friend as well. Aegon quickly tried to make up for the lost time, but thankfully, you were happy to spend time getting to know him as well.

Like his younger brother, Aegon started to fall for you too, though neither of them realized it yet.

They were fucked.

Aemond woke with a start, a cold sweat coating his entire body. He groaned as he felt the stickiness between his legs, knowing what must’ve happened, if his dreams were anything to go by.

He angrily kicked the blankets off of himself, feeling hot even though it was the middle of winter, storming to the bathroom to take a cold shower. He was embarrassed, he hadn’t had a wet dream since he was a teenager. He had so much control over himself for the longest time, so this felt like a slight to his own body. He needed to get laid, badly. It wasn’t for lack of options, Aemond knew he could get any woman into bed with him, there was just a very specific person he had in mind.

Helaena told him that you would be joining them for the holidays, your own family not doing anything to celebrate, so they didn’t mind you going tagging along, and Helaena was more than excited to get you all to herself during the festivities. Though, Aemond had plans to get you alone more than once over the course of the weekend. But what he didn’t know is Aegon was planning the exact same thing.

Aemond tore off all his sheets, bringing them to the washer, annoyed to find Aegon nearby. “Aw, did little brother have a wee accident? Did the little Aemy wet the bed? Mate, are you five?” Aemond glared at his older brother, if only looks could kill. Slowly, Aegon realized, much to Aemond’s horror. “Oh, nah, you creamed the bed!” He guffawed, almost doubling over from the force of his laughter.

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll tell mum you’re using again.”

“But I’m not!”

“And do you really think she’d believe you over me?” That shut Aegon up…briefly.

“So…does this little sticky situation have anything to do with her coming over for the holiday?”

Aemond narrowed his eyes at Aegon, tensing and balling his fist, ready to punch his brother’s perfect teeth in. “What makes you ask that?”

Aegon giggled, backing away slightly, having been on the end of one of Aemond’s punches too many times to count. “Come on, little brother. The way you reacted when Helaena told everyone she’d be coming over, it was like Christmas came early…and so did you, apparently.”

“You fuckin’ twat!” Aemond tried to shove Aegon, but he dodged too quickly.

“It’s alright, brother, I’ll take her off your hands if you can’t keep the little guys in!” Aegon giggled as he ran away, throwing a mischievous smile over his shoulder.

Pfft, as if…Aemond sneered.

Besides Helaena, Aemond was the first to greet you as you exited the cab that drove you to their estate and you appreciated the modest welcome.

When you met Helaena, you had no idea her family was so…well endowed, so to speak. From her manners and how she spent her money, you’d think her family was more like yours, so you can imagine how shocked you were when you were invited to her family home for the first time, pulling up to a mansion on a huge chunk of land. It was like stepping into a fairytale. But most of the family you met was surprisingly humble. 

You were nervous about meeting her brothers, but Helaena assured you that they’d warm up to you eventually, they just had trust issues. And that they did, Daeron was no issue, considering he was studying abroad and rarely ever made it home for holidays. Aemond and Aegon, however, it was a race to see who’d warm up to you the fastest. It shocked you to see that the younger brother became friends with you first. It was very passive and slow, his opening up to you. You could tell he didn’t give information freely, and you would never be able to coax it out of him. He was like a cat, he’d come to you when and if he wanted. And when you finally gained his trust, he was like an open book. You never flinched when he showed you what was underneath his eyepatch, you thought he was beautiful and you told him so. He cried, and you held him. You liked to read together, discuss politics and human rights. You felt connected to him deeply, and you started to care about him as much as Helaena.

With Aegon, it was completely different.

When you first met Aegon, he was all over you, trying to find out all about you immediately, to the point you thought he was hitting on you. He was known for his promiscuity at the university you all went to after all, even when the campus was large, word liked to travel fast. But turns out, he wasn’t into you at all, just making sure you were “safe,” as Helaena worded it. It went on for months, feeling like you were being watched whenever you hung out with the Helaena. You were finally sick of it, confronting Aegon and telling him off without being too disrespectful. You thought you broke him for a moment, him just staring at you for the longest time but before you could turn to leave, he grabbed your wrist, quickly explaining himself, stating that he really only wanted to protect his family. He apologized for making you uncomfortable and that it’ll never happen again.

You forgave Aegon, and the two of you became fast friends. Soon, you started to hang out with all of them at the same time, but you had to remember you were Helaena’s friend first. She would always come first…even when you started to harbor crushes on her brothers. 

You knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help it. You weren’t the most sought after person in the world, you didn’t really know what it was like to have people vie for your attention, so these two boys sent your brain into an overload. They seemed to constantly compete for your attention, to the point you thought your feelings may have been requited for either of them. But how would that even work? You often laughed humorlessly at yourself, what a fool you must be to crush on two men at once. But you did, and you hated yourself for it. So spending a whole holiday with them would be challenging.

“Welcome, welcome, welcome!” Helaena took you in her arms excitedly, a surprising strength making your breath escape your lungs.

“Crushing…lungs…” You heaved, giggling breathlessly when she finally let you go.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just so happy you’re here. Aemond too, right Aemy?” She tugged on her younger brother’s leather jacket sleeve, an unperceivable smile decorating his lips, one only someone close to him could notice, and notice you did. “It’s felt like forever since you’ve been able to come over.”

“That it has.” Aemond added, taking your hand and placing a soft kiss to your knuckles, making you blush.

“Ever the gentleman, eh?” You tried laughing off your flustered state, pulling him into a hug, smelling his amazing cologne that always made you want to bite him. He held you close, the cold crisp air of the winter months barely noticeable with how warm he was against you. You shivered when he let you go, his warmth leaving all too quickly. “Freezing, let’s head inside, shall we?”

The Targaryens weren’t much of a hugging family, but Aegon was, and he gave you a hug that almost put Helaena and Aemond’s to shame. For someone who was never hugged much as a child, he sure knew how to give the best ones, you thought. “Hello, love.” He smiled, his bright white teeth lighting up the room, giving a polite kiss to your cheek. You were embarrassed how fast your panties soaked through.

Suddenly, Aegon was pushed away by Aemond, who put his arm around your shoulders. “I’m sure she doesn’t want your drool all over her.”

Aegon narrowed his eyes, but still kept a smile, albeit a bit more eggy than the genuine one he directed towards you before. “Says you, brother, you’re the one clinging to her now.”

And that’s how most of the holiday went, Aemond and Aegon constantly trying to spend time alone with you, which you never understood why. You even asked Helaena why they were being fussier than usual, to which she just responded with a mischievous giggle. It was a shame, but you honestly didn’t have that much time to spend with each of them alone, the family’s bread and circuses being too grand for anyone to have alone time. Besides, you were there for Helaena and you didn’t want to leave her side for anything. Even if you, in your heart, desired to spend time with her brothers a bit more. 

During the entire holiday, you needed to relieve yourself more than once in the privacy of your guest room. You brought yourself to your peak with your vibrator, imagining Aegon’s tongue gliding up your neck, kissing his full lips, his cock reaching the deepest parts of you as he taunts you to come for him. You also imagined Aemond, his large hand squeezing your throat as he fucks you from behind, his grunts in your ear and he spills in your womb, rubbing your clit and forcing you to climax over and over until you broke for him. Even, bashfully, having them both fuck you at the same time. You knew no one would ever find out your lecherous fantasies, but you still blushed thinking about it.

You were proud you survived the Targaryen festivities without slipping up and exposing your crushes, the hardest thing you’ve ever done. You really needed to get laid, and you didn’t like it but you knew you had to move on. You needed to go on one of those dating websites, get a quick fuck and maybe even find a relationship. And when university came back in full force and you were alone in your flat with nothing but homework and the spider that had permanently made a home in your coffee cup cabinet, you did exactly that.

Julian Lannister…hmm. He was handsome, for sure. Fit, blonde and blue-eyed…not the type of blonde you personally liked and his eyes were a dark blue that could’ve passed as a type of purple in the dark. He was conventionally attractive, and that was good enough for you. 

Swipe Right.

Aegon heard a loud shatter from across the flat, his feet almost sliding across the wooden flooring as he ran to the source of the noise. “Fuck!”

His eyes widened as he saw the blood stained shards of a mirror scattered in a pile on the floor, seeing his brother’s enraged face glued to his phone. “Aemond?” He exclaimed. “What the bloody hell is going on? What have you done to yourself?” Aegon rushed to Aemond’s side, trying to gently grab his cut up hand, but he lurched away. “What’s wrong?”

Aemond didn’t say a word as he lifted his phone screen for Aegon to see. A text from Helaena. She’s got a boyfriend now. Aegon understood now, as he felt his heart sink in his chest and a similar rage bubble in his chest. But alas, he didn’t feel the need to punch a mirror like his idiot brother did. “Ah…so that’s why you decided to mutilate yourself, you twat?”

It took some convincing, but Aegon got his little brother to let him clean the wounds on his hands. “I fucked it all up…” Aemond mumbled.

Aegon sighed, wrapping a bandage around Aemond’s hand. “So did I. We had the whole holiday but we pussied out, no one to blame but ourselves. Woman like her, she was bound to be swept off her feet eventually.”

“It should’ve been one of us…”

“Yeah…but hey, we’re still her best mates, that’s not gonna change. I’d rather be in her life as a friend than not at all, yeah?”

Aemond nodded his head in agreement. “Just wish I could’ve shown her how happy I can make her, and how happy she makes me.”

“The future’s not set in stone, right? Sure, she has a man now, but that doesn’t mean she’s gonna stay with him forever.” Aemond chuckled. “What?”

“I think that’s the smartest thing you’ve ever said in your life.”

“Mmm, yeah, right, ruin the moment, why don’t ya?”

“Baby, baby, please-!” You were interrupted with a slap from your boyfriend, the force of it shoving you to the floor with a cry.

“Don’t you dare “baby” me, slut! I knew you didn’t love me, you’ll never love anyone more than those Targaryen freaks! Hope you die in a ditch, bitch.” Julian stormed out of your flat, slamming the door so hard the picture you hung up of the two of you fell and shattered, glass flying everywhere.

It had been two months leading up to this moment. Two months since you started dating Julian, who started out as a one night stand, then a two night stand, then you started fucking every night until he asked you to be his girlfriend. In truth, you should’ve told him no, but the sex was decent and you desperately wanted to get over Aegon and Aemond. You led him on, and that was your fault. Now, you were paying the consequences. A bruise on your cheek formed quickly, and you cut up your hands picking up the pieces of glass in a sobbing fit. You deserved this, didn’t you? 

You needed to see your best friends. Honestly, you wanted to see your boys, but you knew that would not turn out well. You were in a bad state, you needed to talk to someone that wouldn’t judge you when you couldn’t control what came out of your mouth while venting. Helaena might be upset you had feelings for her brothers, but you knew ultimately you wouldn't lose her because of it. So to Helaena’s you went.

But what you didn’t know was that Aegon and Aemond were at their sister’s flat while she was at a study getaway with one of her classes, making sure her cat Dreamfire was getting proper attention. If you had known that, you never would’ve knocked on her door.

It was Aemond who opened the door first, his eye widening and brows furrowing in concern, seeing your tear stained face…and then the bruise. “What happened?” He almost growled, pulling you past the threshold into the flat before you could even protest. Aegon said your name in gleeful surprise, but his smile immediately fell when he noticed something was wrong. 

“I never should’ve come here.” You cried, trying to hide your face from the brothers.

“Hey, hey…” Aegon whispered, gently trying to pry your hands away from your face. “Did that Lannister prick do this?” You didn’t have to say anything for them both to know he guessed correctly, both looking at each other with a similar expression. “We’ll kill him.”

“No, please!” You quickly exclaimed, knowing that they could and get away with it. “Please, he’s not worth it. It’s over between us, I don’t want to waste any more time on him, please. Can I just…please, let’s just watch a movie or something, okay?”

Aemond pulled your weak form into a tight hug, his warmth calming you slightly. “We can do whatever you want, love. Right, Aegon?”

He nodded. “Yeah, of course.” He placed his large hand on your shoulder, smoothing the wrinkles on your shirt in a soothing motion. “We’ll always be here for you.”

Since that night, neither Aegon nor Aemond left you alone. If they weren’t in the same area as you, they were always texting you, making sure you were okay or if you needed anything. It felt like you had two husbands doting on you. The thought made you a little bit too happy. But one thing that worried you a little was how fast you heard of something bad happening to Julian. It didn’t even take a week for you to hear about him being in a motor “accident.” He wasn’t majorly injured or anything, but he had to stay in the hospital for a couple weeks before he could start physical therapy to learn how to walk again. You felt bad for how apathetic you were about the whole thing. You were just relieved he was out of your life.

You could spend time with your best friends without feeling guilty now, knowing you didn’t have a boyfriend to cater too. You could finally get yourself off without feeling like you were cheating in a way. You were free. But the downside, your crushes on Aemond and Aegon had only gotten stronger. You would have movie nights all the time whenever you weren’t busy with college or your job. You spent time with them and Helaena at the same time and it was lovely. You didn’t know how it managed to get this way, but they’d even spend the night at your flat sometimes. Not that you minded all that much, it just made it harder to act like a normal person who didn’t have extremely strong feelings for someone, or someones.

It often was the same way, you, Aegon, and Aemond all sitting on your couch watching some stupid movie, much like tonight. And like always, you sat between the two brothers. But something felt different, it felt more charged. Electrified. Maybe it was because Aemond had his hand on your thigh, squeezing occasionally, as if he hadn’t really noticed what he was doing. Or maybe it was because Aegon had his arm over your shoulder, leaning into you just enough you could smell his shampoo. You felt hot all over, and what made it worse, a sex scene in the movie started to play.

It was eerily silent, and you could’ve sworn you heard your heart beating wildly. Aemond squeezed your thigh so hard you shifted in your spot with a wince, making you lean into Aegon more, which in turn made Aegon squeeze your shoulder. You felt like you were going to start hyperventilating, so you did the only thing you thought to do. You quietly excused yourself, claiming you needed a glass of water. And you did, the cool liquid flowing down your throat with ease, but it only made you wish something else was flowing down your throat…

You were startled out of your thoughts by Aegon gently calling your name, “You alright there, love?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” You stuttered, turning around and leaning against the counter. “Just thirsty.”

“Yeah, you seem really thirsty.” He smirked, coming closer to you slightly. “You sure you’re alright, you seem a little frazzled. Did something happen? Did Julian contact you? I sweat, if that bastard-”

“No, nothing like that Egg, I promise. I just…”

When you didn’t finish your sentence, Aegon walked closer and closer to you, your heart starting to race. You tried backing up but you were already pushed up against the cool counter of the kitchen, making it easy for Aegon to corner you. You felt your face heat up as you started to feel his body heat. You cursed yourself silently as you felt your clit start to throb, a wetness starting to leak out of you. “Is there something you’re not telling me, love?” He asked.

You didn’t say anything, but Aegon could tell what you wanted to say. Ever since you started spending more time with him and his brother, they figured out you must’ve had feelings for both of them. Aemond was the first to suspect it, as observant as he was. He noticed the way your pulse quickened whenever he held your hand as “friends.” He saw how your chest heaved whenever each of them got close to you, though Aegon never noticed before. But now, after hearing all over his little brother’s observations Aegon could see the lust in your eyes, saw how your chest heaved. He placed a hand just over your left breast, feeling how fast your heart was beating. 

“Aegon…” You whispered, and he couldn’t help but place his lips against yours. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your mouth, a small tear running down the side of your face. Aegon’s hands ran up your sides, gently squeezing the fat that shaped the body he loved so much. Oh, how he wanted to lift you up onto the counter, pull your pajama shorts and panties to the side and shove his cock deep inside your heat as far as you could take him. But you were different, maybe he would’ve done that with someone he didn’t care for, definitely back when he was a troubled youth. No, he had to treat you with care, and also the deal he made with Aemond. He couldn’t have you all to himself, at least not yet.

Aegon let out a whine as he forced himself to pull away, leaving the both of you breathless. “If you hadn’t already figured it out, I have some pretty strong feelings for you, love.”

“Oh, Aegon, I do too…but-”

“Aemond. You have feelings for him as well.”

Your eyes widened. “How did you-”

“We figured it out some time ago, and we’re fine with it. We, uh…have some to an agreement, if you’ll hear us out.”

Before you could question anything he was talking about, Aegon led you back to the living room, where Aemond was sitting patiently for the two of you. “Please tell me you didn’t fuck it up.”

“I don’t think so?”

Aegon sat you down in a chair opposite of them, letting you have the space to back out if you needed. They didn’t want to overwhelm you just yet. Aemond leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “So, I assume Aegon told you about our agreement?”

“Just that you had one.” You answered, which caused Aemond to shoot a glare at his older brother.

“I thought it would be best to talk to her about it together, dickhead.”

“Anyway.” Aemond growled. “Aegon and I…both have feelings for you, and we know you have feelings for us. It wouldn’t be fair to ask you to choose, so we’re willing to share you…if you want.” It was like a dream come true, no, too good to be true. You couldn’t believe it. Were you dreaming? You must’ve been dreaming. “Are you still with us?”

“This…is a lot.” You sighed shakily, but you knew what your body’s answer was, you just didn’t know how you could mentally handle it. “I do want both of you, but how would that work? I know how…uh, jealous you guys can be, especially of each other. How would you handle sharing me?”

Aemond and Aegon gave each other another one of those silent looks, one of those looks that spoke a thousand words without even opening their mouths. “You’re more important to us than our jealousy. We want you in our lives, and we’re willing to do anything to keep you here.” Aemond answered.

“So, if you’re willing, we want to make you happy. But if you don’t feel comfortable…we will understand.” Aegon spoke, but his eyes were pleading, begging that you’d agree.

In the end, you knew what your answer would be. You loved those boys so much, so you couldn’t imagine having to choose between one of them or choosing neither. Why not choose both?

“You…” You smiled shyly, “have my permission to share me.”

And like a switch flipped in each of them, gone were their nervous and hopeful expressions, they were now replaced with an almost predatory and lustful gaze. You could feel the weight of two pairs of eyes looking you up and down like a meal, your core clenching around nothing. You had never been more aroused than you had ever been in your life, you could practically feel yourself dripping. The feeling got even worse when Aemond stood up from the couch, sauntering over to you and leaning his hands on the armrests of the chair you sat in. You craned your head up to meet his gaze, your eyes heavy with desire as he bit his lip and groaned softly, like he was scared of letting himself go. His silver chain that he often wore snuck out of his shirt and dangled below his neck, and it was driving you crazy how sexy this man was.

Aemond chuckled darkly as he noticed you squeezing your thighs together, causing you to blush and look down, but he gently placed his index finger underneath your chin, lifting your gaze back to his. “Tell me what you want, sweet girl.” He whispered smoothly, his voice grazing over you like silk. 

You whimpered when he reached down to squeeze your thigh. “Aemond, please…”

“Please…what? Hm?” You huffed in frustration, your body so heady with arousal it was hard to put the images in your head to words. “I can’t help you if you don’t use your words.”

“Aemond.” Aegon interrupted, and you both looked over to see him watching in amusement at your interactions with each other. “Our poor girl is so needy she can’t speak properly. You’ve been around, what do you think she wants to ask of you?”

Aemond hummed, shifting his gaze back to you. “I imagine…our pretty girl wants me to taste her pretty pussy. Am I right to assume so?” You nodded quickly, the thought making you whine. “Not good enough, love. I’m going to need you to say yes or no for me.”

“Yes, Aemond! Please…” You whined.

“Oh,” Aegon chuckled, “look who’s using her words now?”

You tensed when Aemond started to get on his knees, clenching your thighs together. “What’s wrong?” He immediately asked, and you blushed, your reasoning a bit embarrassing. “It’s okay, you can tell me. Is this not what you really want?”

“That’s not it at all, I just…” You huffed, putting aside your nervousness. “I’d like to have my first kiss with you first…”

A beat passed, one that almost lasted too long before you started to feel even more embarrassed. But Aemond smiled, a genuine, toothy smile. It was a rare thing to see him smile like that. Most of the time, he smirked or tried to hide his teeth. But god when he really smiled, it was as beautiful as Aegon’s. Aemond leaned forward, still on his knees, so you had to lean down to meet him slightly. You wondered how his kisses would be different from Aegon’s. With Aegon, when he kissed you for the first time, it was heavy weighted and passionate, he leaned his whole body against yours, almost bringing you into a hug at the same time. You felt like you couldn’t escape his kiss in the best way. But with Aemond, at first his kiss was soft and light, like he was kissing someone for the first time; but when you met him with the same eagerness, he deepened the kiss by bringing his hands up to cup your face, tilting his head to fully slot his lips perfectly against yours. It was a gentleman’s kiss, but no less passionate. If you hadn't already been sitting, you would’ve gone weak at the knees.

Aemond pulled away from you slowly, a soft clicking noise as your lips broke apart. He hummed lowly, “I always knew you’d taste so good. I’m sure your other lips will taste just as sweet.” You gasped loudly as Aemond removed your shorts and underwear in one swift motion, his eye darkening as he saw how soaked you were already. “So wet and I’ve only kissed you. Come see, brother.”

Aegon all too eagerly crossed the room to witness your wetness, his grin making a pang of arousal surge through you so strongly it almost hurt. “Like a fuckin’ virgin.” He stood behind you as Aemond placed a soft kiss on your clit, making your back arch and head loll back against Aegon’s waist, his hands rubbing your shoulders as you whimpered from Aemond’s touch. “You gonna be a good girl for us?”

“Yes, Aegon.” You breathed out, then breathing in sharply as Aemond licked up and down your folds with a groan. “Fu…”

“Mmm,” Aemond groaned, “so sweet, just like I thought.” You bit your lip as he pressed two fingers inside you, a noisy squelch giving away just how turned on you were. “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight. Relax, or else you’ll never be able to take us.”

Aegon leaned down and started to kiss your neck, his hands reaching down to grasp at your hardened nipples. “Such a sweet girl, you’re doing so well for us, aren’t you? Taking Aemond’s fingers and tongue so well.”

You let out a borderline pornagraphic moan as Aemond thrusted his fingers inside you while flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit, Aegon’s finger roughly pinching your nipples getting you way too close way too fast. You wanted this to last so bad, but they didn’t show any signs of stopping and you weren’t about to stop them either. “Are you close already, beautiful?” Aemond asked, and you nodded. “Do you wanna come so soon? I can stop if you’d like.” He teased, sensing how desperate you must’ve been.

“No, no, please, Aemy, please. Please, I wanna come so bad. Please, let me come.” You sobbed.

“Didn’t even have to ask you to beg for it. Good girl. Come for me. Come on my fuckin’ fingers.”

You let out a strangled whine as your first orgasm washed over you, your whole body tensing and relaxing as your pussy contracted around Aemond’s fingers, your clit throbbing intensely as his tongue bullied it expertly. “Such a good girl.” You heard Aegon say, his voice sounding far away as you came down from your high.

“Did you like that, baby?” Aemond asked, palming his cock through his sweatpants. Did he even need to ask? “Aegon, you should have a taste too.” Your eyes widened, knowing how sensitive you are after you come. You wouldn’t be able to handle it. But that didn’t seem to matter to them, as Aegon quickly knelt to the floor, burying his face and tongue in your cunt, making you squeal.

“Fuck!” Aegon purred into you, fucking your pussy with his tongue, your eyes rolling to the back of your head in overstimulation, your mouth open wide practically drooling. Aemond took advantage of that, pulling his cock from his trousers and guiding it gently into your awaiting mouth, taking him eagerly.

“Damn, baby, your mouth feels so fuckin’ good, fuck…” Aemond groaned, restraining himself and making sure he didn’t fuck your face too hard, although you didn’t seem to mind. You were slobbering and moaning on his cock, the slight vibrations making his dick twitch from how good it felt, having to pull out before he released too early. “Need to feel that pussy around my cock.”

“I’m not fuckin’ done here.” Aegon growled, determined to make you come on his mouth.

“She’s too sensitive, she won’t be able to.” That comment from Aemond only seemed to spur him on.

“Are you doubting my abilities, brother?” You had to cover your mouth from screaming when Aegon started to suck on your clit, making you arch your back and twitch against him, not sure if you were trying to get away or push him closer. And you couldn’t believe it, but you were getting closer to another orgasm. Aegon’s mouth sloppily kissing and sucking your clit was too much, it was painful but you didn’t want it to stop.

You were writhing in your chair, Aemond having to hold you down so you didn’t fall off or hurt yourself in any way, the force of his hands holding you making your orgasm rise quickly burst out of you like a fountain, spraying onto Aegon’s face, who was grinning like Cheshire Cat. “Fuck, that was so sexy, darling. If I thought you could handle it, I’d make you do that again.”

“Please, don’t…” You chuckled breathlessly.

“Think you’ll be able to handle something else, then?” You nodded meekly. “Let’s take this to the bedroom, shall we?”

Aegon and Aemond led you on wobbly legs to your bedroom, kissing all over your body wherever there was naked flesh. Already two orgasms in, you were sensitive all over, your skin tingling and tickling from their kisses. You could feel each of their hard, throbbing cocks grinding against you. You reached out blindly, not knowing whose you touched until you heard Aegon groan. “Fuck, darling, you drive me crazy. Think you can take us?”

“Anything you want.” You moaned as Aemond cupped your breast, taking your nipple in his mouth and sucking harshly.

“I want to fuck that tight cunny of yours.” Aegon growled, flipping you over onto your stomach, making you face Aemond, his cock intimidatingly erect. You instinctively licked your lips, wrapping them just over the head of his cock, making him moan. You whined when you felt Aegon push into you slowly, his thick cock stretching your channel so deliciously, feeling every ridge and vein. You had to come off Aemond’s dick when Aegon bottomed out, your face contorting in pleasure. He wasn’t as long as Aemond, but he was so incredibly thick and you could tell you were going to be sore in the morning. “Gods, so wet and tight for me. You alright, love?”

“Yes.” You moaned, trying your best to suck Aemond off properly, your spit and drool running down your chin and drenching his balls. “Fuck!” You shouted as Aegon started a steady pace, the blunt tip of his cock hitting your cervix over and over. “So…deep…feels so good, Aegon.”

“Doing so well, like you were made for this.” Aemond moaned, starting to fuck your face gently, your gags and tears spilling from you spurring him on further. You probably thought you looked like a mess, but you were beautiful to him. To both of them. The way your brows furrowed when they went too deep, your face slightly red with blush and exertion, the pretty noises you made; they were cuntstruck.

“Fuck, gods, no, not yet.” Aegon grunted, his cock twitching inside of you. “Your pussy feels too good.” He moaned, wanting to slow down but ultimately pistoned into you with a force that made you surge forward and gag on Aemond’s cock deeper. Aegon let out a beautiful low groan as he came inside you, his hot sticky cum painting your inner walls white.

Before you could do anything, Aemond was pushing Aegon out of the way, quickly replacing Aegon’s cock with his, filling you to the brim immediately, causing you to cry out. “Her pussy’s that good, huh?” Aemond taunted, groaning loudly as he fucked you like he was trying to break you.

“Yes.” Aegon answered simply, laying next to you, lazily stroking his cock as he watched your facial expressions, wanting to get hard again. “Such a pretty girl.” He kissed you passionately, paired with Aemond’s thrusts made your head spin.

“Gods, I could fuck this pussy forever…” Aemond moaned, pushing the small of your back into the bed, forcing you to arch your back for him, his cock hitting deeper and deeper.

“Please…!” You whined obnoxiously, making the boys chuckle. You felt so out of it, the only thing registering was how good Aemond’s cock was making you feel. “Fuck! Ah!” You sobbed, feeling your uterus contract, another powerful orgasm starting to bubble up inside you.

“Can I fuck you again, darling?” Aegon asked softly, his cock already hard again and ready for you.

“No way, not now, not when I’m so fuckin’ close.” Aemond growled, keeping his body hunched over you protectively.

“I didn’t say you had to stop. If she’ll let me, I’d like to use that other tight hole of hers.” Your eyes widened, a deep pang of arousal surging through you like lightning at the thought of being so thoroughly filled by both of the men you loved. “It’s okay if you’re not comfortable-”

“Yes.”

“Uh, are you sure-?”

“Yes, Aegon! Please! I want you both to fuck me at the same time.”

Aegon smirked, looking at Aemond. “Well, you heard the lady.”

Aemond positioned himself under you so that you could ride him, while Aegon got behind you, grabbing a bottle of lube and applied some to your puckered hole generously, pushing a finger in slowly. You whimpered at the stretch, clenching around Aemond’s cock, causing him to grab your hips roughly. “Relax.” Then Aegon added another finger, then another, trying to match his girth to make sure you were prepared for him.

“Are you ready, pretty girl?”

“Please, Aegon.” You threw your head back against Aegon’s shoulder as he started to push in, the lube and the way he prepped you making it a not too terrible stretch. You could feel a stomach ache coming on, but gods, you didn’t want this to ever end. “Fuck…” You sobbed as he started to thrust into you gently, Aemond doing the same.

You never thought you’d pass out during sex, you couldn’t possibly believe it could feel that good. But these men proved you wrong, and you felt like you could collapse at any moment. You felt like a boneless fish, at the mercy of Aemond and Aegon, each thrusting with abandon, passing you back and forth like a game of tennis. All you could do was hang on for the ride and take it, moaning like a pornstar was all you had to put your energy in, not like you could help it.

Your third and most powerful orgasm came over you suddenly, wracking your body with chills and spasms, yelling so loud you were pretty sure you’d get noise complaints from your neighbors. But you couldn’t care less, with how amazing you felt, it was like an out of body experience. “Good fuckin’ girl, taking both our cocks so well.” Aegon moaned, kissing and biting your shoulder. “Fuck, gonna come again.”

“Me too.” Aemond moaned, “You want our cum deep inside both your holes, hm?”

“Yes, Aemond, yes! Come in me, please…” Both Aegon and Aemond let out deep groans, filling up both your holes with their cum, making you feel so full and complete. They both pulled out of you slowly, gently laying you down in between them on the bed. You shifted uncomfortably when you felt their cum leaking out of you, making a mess of your thighs and sheets. But it didn’t matter when they both cuddled up against you, making you feel so safe and secure.

“Are you okay, baby?” Aemond asked, caressing your cheek.

“More than okay.” You giggled, still breathless. You all were so sweaty, you’d all need a shower.

“That was amazing.” Aegon sighed, cuddling into your side like you were a teddy bear, his arm reaching over your waist while Aemond smoothed out your hair. “You were amazing.”

There was a beat where each of you just cuddled one another, steadying your breathing and taking in each other’s warmth. It was nice, almost as nice as the sex, but it didn’t stop you from thinking, “What happens now?” Your shy voice echoed in the now quiet room.

“Now?” Aegon mused. “Now, we do that again and again.”

Aemond rolled his eye at Aegon’s quip, continuing to smooth your hair down in a comforting manner. “Like we told you before, we both want you, and we’re both willing to share you. Like a polyamorous situation. We weren’t lying about how we feel about you, you know that.”

“If that’s alright with you, darling. We’d like to be your boyfriends, if you’ll have us. Our ancestor did the same thing…but the reverse…and with his sisters. So comparatively, this is normal.” Aegon chuckled.

Kissing both of their cheeks, you relaxed into their embrace. “Then yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend, both of yours.” You giggled when they both started kissing your cheeks, pawing at you like they wanted to go another round. “I can’t imagine the family gatherings won’t be awkward from now on.”

“They’ve always been awkward, love, that’s nothing to worry about.”

didn't mean for it to be this long oops🙈

I READ THIS ALL IN ONE SITTING I AM ✨️LIVING✨️ THIS WAS 💯PERFECTION💯🤌🏻 MY RELIGIOUS KINK IS THRIVINGGGGGG💦💦💦❤️‍🔥

The Gate of Salvation Masterlist

[ young pope • Aemond x catholic • female ]

[ warnings: soft sex content, masturbation, fingering, sexual tension, smut, angst, anxiety, manipulation, doubts related to faith, religious guilt, chauvinism, more warnings inside each chapter ]

[ description: During the conclave, a new pope is elected, but to everyone's surprise, he does not intend to show himself to the crowds waiting for him. His ideas terrify the cardinals, and one of them convinces his niece, who is studying marketing, to talk to the new head of the Catholic Church in his presence. Masterlist graphic by amazing @aegonx. Main theme: sexual tension & holy touch. ]

A mini-series created as a thank you and celebration of my 2'500 followers. I initially plan that it will have about 3 chapters.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 The Song of Songs (Oneshot) Death and Ressurection (Oneshot)

Aemond as a Pope Edit Series Characters Moodboard Headers for the Series Aemond NSFW Alphabet

anyway...gonna be using "click" to describe pussy sounds now, it's so visceral and I love it😂

The Downfall (Oneshot)

[ Hamlet • dark Aemond x Ophelia • female ]

[ warnings: dubcon, sex content, fingering, virgnity loss, violence, suicide, angst, smut, obsession, remorse ]

[ description: When she attracts the attention of Prince Aemond during the wedding feast of his brother and his sister, she knows that something terrible is going to happen. His figure lunges towards her like black storm clouds and she feels that, along with his desire, he will bring on her downfall. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

"Tis I who should receive this honour. I, second son, rider of the greatest dragon in the world, experienced in wielding the sword, educated in history and philosophy, 'tis I who should…" He didn't finish, pressing his lips into a thin line. He stopped in the middle of his chamber, not looking at her but at the floor, his eye wide open in rage, his nostrils twitching in accelerated breath.

She swallowed hard, clenching her fingers on the material of her gown as she sat in one of the chairs at the table, fearful of him as usual when he behaved in this way, making her unsure once again how to act.

To endorse his words would have meant betrayal, so she had to remain silent, though her heart was pounding like mad in her chest, a drop of cold sweat running down the back of her neck.

Their betrothal had come as a surprise to her; the prince had caught sight of her at a grand wedding feast held in honour of his brother and his sister, dancing among dozens of other couples.

She dared not look at him, knowing of the arrangements between the Red Keep and Storm's End, not wanting to ridicule herself by begging like some of the women from respectable houses for his attention.

Apparently that was what made his bright, cold, dangerous eye notice her figure and his sight did not leave her until the end of the evening. At first she thought she was just imagining it, then, however, glancing towards the table standing in front of the Iron Throne she met his gaze, his lips curving into a grin that was disturbing to say the least.

She was terrified.

The next day, her father was asked to extend their stay in the Red Keep and enjoy the King's hospitality, though it was not explained to them for what reason.

She was frightened because she understood what it meant and she never went anywhere alone, always taking a servant with her, having heard numerous stories of what Prince Aegon did to women who caught his eye.

She didn't want to see for herself if his younger brother was the same.

It seemed to her that black clouds had gathered over her, that it was a matter of time when something would happen, and indeed, when she came across him passing through the courtyard during one of his sparring sessions, though she turned her head away, his deep, mocking voice stopped her.

"My Lady."

She swallowed hard, knowing that if she didn't answer anything, if she didn't look at him, she would commit a great discourtesy and offend him.

She couldn't afford it.

Therefore, she turned towards him, looking at the ground, seeing only his legs and waist clad in black leather garments, bowing in front of him.

"Your Highness."

She felt for a moment that her heart stood in her throat, the only thing she could hear around her was the clinking of steel and the voices of servants discussing something with each other behind her back. She saw the legs she was looking at move towards her and she closed her eyes.

"What a scared little bird you are. Hm?" He hummed, his voice soft and teasing at the same time, amused, as if he were speaking to a small child.

She swallowed hard and looked up at him – he towered over her with a smirk that was mysterious and unsettling, his healthy eye bright and wide open, his gaze piercing to the core, his lips swollen and full.

She felt herself grow hot with shame.

What was she supposed to answer to such a question?

The prince cocked his head, apparently ignoring her silence, taking advantage of the fact that they were standing so close to each other, watching her as if she were some curious being he had never seen before.

"I watched you dance last night. Did you feel my gaze lingering on your figure?" He asked, and she swallowed heavily, lowering her gaze, involuntarily betraying herself. The Prince grinned under his breath, seeing her reaction.

"You did." He said and looked to the side, as if he wanted to make sure no one would hear what he was about to say, leaning over her ear. "I will marry you."

She drew in the air loudly, shocked and surprised, freezing for a moment, tense, looking at him with big eyes and shook her head, not understanding how he could say such a thing. He, however, only grinned broadly in a way that made her shudder and stepped away from her, turning to Ser Criston Cole, letting him know that they could continue.

Ser Criston gave her one terrified look that told her everything.

She was doomed.

She didn't tell her father about the prince's words because she was convinced that he was mocking her, wishing for certain that she would succumb to him and spend the night with him only to disappear from his life forever. She knew she couldn't let that happen if she wanted to marry any self-respecting lord and decided she would just stay inside her quarters.

And then their betrothal was announced.

There was a feeling of emptiness in her mind as she looked at him, at the wide, mischievous grin stretched across his face as he sat at the table, while his mother, the Queen, spoke to her of the King's decision, apparently persuaded by his son, wondering how she was supposed to tame such a man, tame such a fiery, unpredictable nature.

She was scared.

To her despair, her father had been invited to take on the role of one of the treasurers under the direct authority of the Small Council, which he welcomed with joy. It meant that their family was to stay in the Red Keep, and her betrothed could slowly clamp his claws around her neck.

He followed her like a wraith, sinking her further and further into his darkness, making her slowly melt into one with him, not knowing where his soul ended and hers began.

On the day he was to see his nephews again years later, she locked herself in her chamber, unwilling to watch this theatre of malice and humiliation, knowing what her betrothed thought of them, how often he mused about slitting their throats or gouging out their eyes to later gift them to his mother.

She knew he was furious, wanting to show her off like a pretty object he had in his possession, but she offered him a passive resistance that drove him to the brink of madness.

She drew in a loud breath as he surprised her by silently sneaking up to her chamber at night – she heard the loud creak of the wood beneath his body as he lay down behind her. His one hand took place on her womb, as if he was already imagining in the back of his mind as it swelled from his seed, the other went under her jaw, stroking her skin warningly, his lips against her ear.

"You're hiding from me. You're avoiding me. You move through the keep like a shadow." He whispered, however there was no threat or frustration in his words, which she felt instead in his hand that slowly clenched around her long neck. She swallowed quietly, looking ahead at the night, starry sky outside the window.

She did not answer him.

She rarely used words in his presence.

Unfortunately, this only deepened the state she aroused in him.

A curiosity bordering on obsession.

She tilted her head back and sighed involuntarily, feeling the tickling heat spilling over her lower abdomen as his moist, full lips ran over her cheek, the tip of his tongue leaving a wet, cool trail on her hot skin.

"– I needed you –" He hissed in a trembling voice, pressing his body against hers from behind, his hard, swollen manhood hidden under the material of his breeches pushed against her buttocks, pulsing steadily. Her nipples hardened at his words, a shiver of fear and excitement ran down her spine.

His hand from her womb slid lower, between her thighs, his fingers closed on her womanhood – she knew how he learned these tricks, knew that he had played with whores before he met her, but she couldn't convince herself that she particularly cared.

The delicacy and uncertainty of the movements of his fingers did not match how she perceived him: apparently it seemed to him that one too aggressive gesture on his part and she would fall apart in his hands.

Thus, he merely teased her through the material of her nightgown, waiting as usual for her breath to grow heavy and ragged, for her buttocks to begin to rock to the flicks of his wrist and rub against his throbbing erection.

They both moaned quietly as his hand impatiently lifted the material of her long robe, seeking the warmth between her thighs and finally found it, her pulsing, swollen slit leaking from her sticky wetness.

The fingers of his hand from her neck rose higher, to her cheeks, closing on it in a rough gesture, forcing her to turn her face in his direction – she didn't resist him as his slick tongue burst deep between her lips, as his mouth pressed against hers with a loud, lewd click in a greedy, ravenous kiss that took her breath away.

She let him do whatever he wanted with her lips – he was sucking, licking and biting them, as if he were some kind of animal that had grabbed its prey and wasn't going to let her go until he devoured her.

She didn't care, because her mind seemed to be muffled, as if she was underwater, focused only on the touch of his fingers as they dug into her puffy, delicate folds, teasing again and again her warm, pulsing slit.

Her body tensed like a string, knowing what he was about to do, and then at last the tips of his fingertips broke into her hot, throbbing interior with a quiet click of her moisture.

She moaned a tad too loudly into his mouth, making him sigh deeply into her throat, freezing for a moment, his hard erection slapping impatiently against her buttocks.

"– fuck –" He gasped, startling her completely, letting her go and turning her onto her back, laying on top of her, looking at her with his mouth parted wide, breathing heavily.

She had thought that, as was his custom, he would just simply take out his manhood and make her squeeze it with her hand, touching her at the same time to give her fulfillment.

He, however, after he untied the material of his breeches, grabbed her nightgown with his hands and lifted it above her thighs, making her voice froze in her throat, her hands clasped helplessly on his shoulders.

"– n-no – no, please –" She muttered, knowing that if he took her maidenhood, took what he desired, he would never marry her, would send her and her father back to where they came from humiliated and ridiculed.

"– I need this – I need to feel you –" He breathed out, as if he was in some kind of frenzy, heedless of her helpless attempts to stop him, forcing her to spread her thighs open. She cried out, tilting her head back and closed her eyes as she felt the fat head of his cock begin to push against her swollen slit.

"– no – please, Aemond, please –" She whimpered, raising her trembling hands to his cheeks, stroking his jaw, trying to give him what he wanted, what he was apparently dreaming of in his black, grim mind.

"– you don't understand –" He growled, in a sharp, impatient motion trying to slide deeper into her, opening her little cunt on his throbbing, long erection. "– I fucking needed you today –"

She whined as he forced his way deeper into her body, filling her so much that she felt like he was going to tear her apart from the inside, clenching her fingers against the material of his leather tunic, shocked at how foreign, frightening, painful and exciting this sensation was.

"– I know – I know, just a little bit more – it's almost in – shhhh –" He hushed her, stroking her head with his broad hand as he thrusted his thick root all the way in into her, one last cry of effort left her lips.

She seemed to feel him with her whole being, breathing loudly through her mouth, feeling like she was suffocating, her heart pounding like mad, her whole body quivering in his arms, his lips placing warm, moist, reassuring kisses on her cheek.

"– thaaat's it – there we go – I'm going to start moving now –" He hummed, in a slow, lazy manner beginning to rock with his hips, sliding out of her a little and sliding back in with a quiet click, trying to force her body to adapt to his shape and receive him with greater ease.

He hugged her face to the hollow of his neck, without accelerating or making sudden movements, letting her fingers tighten vulnerably on his back.

"– good girl – calm down and let me fill you with my seed –" He whispered, as if he wanted to soothe her, to reassure her that he took no pleasure in her discomfort and suffering, even though he himself was the cause of it.

She nodded, not having the strength to stand up to him, breathing loudly to relax, to endure what he wanted to do to her. A low, loud groan of pleasure erupted from his lips when he felt it, and his thrusts became a little more sure, deep, loud.

"– g-gods –" She breathed out, feeling with horror that he was teasing a spot inside her from which shivers ran through her, waves of cold terror and hot pleasure surging through her body, causing a complete void in her mind, all she could focus on was the wooden canopy of the bed above her head.

"– yes – ah – so fucking wet for me – all warm and soft –" He breathed out into her ear, licking her hot cheek with his tongue, pounding into her with quiet clicks of her moisture, making her feel the tickle in her lower abdomen, in her puffy lips and in her hard nipples, the bed beneath them beginning to creak loudly.

She felt the familiar hot tension building within her, the tension that he aroused in her when he touched her with his fingers, that, to her despair, she began to take pleasure from this animalistic, simple act of slapping their naked, sweaty bodies against each other.

She tilted her head back and sighed as she let her hips tentatively begin to rock to his thrusts, her hands slid from his back to his bare buttocks, stroking them. He shuddered all over and groaned, blindly seeking her mouth with his own, joining her in a sticky, messy, loud kisses, licking and sucking her lips.

"– yes – yes, just like that, fuck, little one, fuck, fuck, fuckkk –" He gasped, pressing his forehead to hers, slamming into her so quickly and aggressively that he was barely sliding out of her, his thighs slapping against her buttocks again and again, opening her wide on his fat cock.

They both were moaning shamelessly, looking at each other wide-eyed with their mouths open, listening to the shameless, sticky clicks her slick cunt made with each of his thrusts.

"– just a little more – ah – f-fuck, yes –" He groaned in elation, his final, deep, sloppy thrusts prolonging the inevitable, she heard and understood little as a wave of pleasure shook her and something hot spilled deep inside her, their mingled wetness ran down her buttocks.

"– such a good girl –" He gasped, throbbing inside her for a moment longer, filling her with the remains of his spend.

"– Aemond –" She mumbled, feeling her little cunt clamp down on his half-hard manhood, sucking it inside her again and again.

He fell on top of her without strength, panting heavily, and they both remained silent for long time. She finally heard him swallow hard, not even daring to look at her, his face sunk into the hollow of her neck.

"– will you forigve me, little bird? –" He muttered in a weak, deep, trembling voice.

At his question a single tear of sadness, regret and emptiness ran from the corner of her eye down to the side of her face, falling onto his forehead.

He felt it and lifted himself on his arm, wanting to look at her, but what he saw apparently made something inside him break.

He clamped his eyelid shut, swallowed hard and pressed his body against hers, burying his face in the pillow.

She didn't know why her hand lifted and laid on his head, stroking his hair with gentle, calm movements, why she felt a squeeze in her heart, why she wanted to comfort him.

Why she let him stay with her that night, cuddled into to her as if he were a small child .

And then the King died.

Her betrothed walked into her chamber the next day, pale, not looking into her eyes, twitching all over, as if in shock.

"My father is dead…" He began, and her mouth opened wide, looking at him in horror.

"… and my grandfather demands that I marry one of Lord Baratheon's daughters."

She stared at him dully, feeling her heart stop in her chest, her stomach twisting in pain as if she was about to vomit.

"I admitted to my grandfather what I did to you. I refused to let him send you away. You will become a Septa. You will be safe and retain your dignity I wrongfully took from you." He said and flinched hard as she grinned at his words, looking at her in disbelief.

"Do you think I'm surprised? I knew you wouldn't keep your word the day I saw you."

It seemed to her that something in her words broke him, for his lower lip began to tremble without the participation of his free will, his eye turned red, his nostrils twitched in heavy, accelerated breathing.

He was unable to get anything out of himself.

On the evening of the day before she was to leave the Red Keep, she demanded that a bath be prepared for her.

She knew he would come to her, she knew his conscience would not let her go without a farewell, she knew he would want to take her one more time before he abandoned her once and for all.

When she was left alone she slipped under the water, sinking her head into it as well, and closed her eyes, feeling strangely calm as the air stopped flowing into her lungs, a shudder shook her body indicating that some part of her still wanted to live.

It was said afterwards that the prince had found her and pulled her out of the water, that he had sobbed and wailed over her bare body, that he had locked her in his embrace, not allowing anyone to come near her, kneeling with her cuddled into his chest on the cold stone floor.

It was said that after that evening he stopped to speak and leave his chamber, staring dully into the fire for hours, playing between his fingers with a lock of her hair, the only memento he had left of her.

It was said that the prince's heart had died with her.

🍦🍧🍨 ICE CREAM DELIVERY!! 🍨🍧🍦 give ice cream to your favourite bloggers and help them stay cool this summer. 😎🍦

hey😁 i know your requests are closed but i just needed to ask if there's the possibility that you'd ever write a part 2 for ben miller's one shot for the events during/after the second escape room movie?? i really loved your writing, i've seen both movies a while ago and no one else ever seems to talk about them lmao

Glad you liked it! Yeahhh, it wasn't the most popular of films but I really enjoyed them😅 Had a Logan Miller phase for awhile but it's all but died out now. Back when I wrote it I thought of making it a two parter but ehhh, that feels like a long ass time ago and I'm interested in different things. I felt like the only one obsessed with his character so it's nice to know I wasn't alone lmao

Just needed you to know that your Bobby Jones "Hole in One" fic lives rent free in my brain. "My Roman Empire" type of deal.

omfg that is mighty high praise thank you so much❤❤❤

oh jeez thanks darlin'😅🥰❤

𝗖𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗴

this one's pretty gross ngl lol

Summary: You thought you could get away with one more adrenaline rush before the mission kills you.

Warnings: DARK NONCON, SMUT (MINORS DNI), mentions of murder, rape, torture, and necrophilia, serial killer!reader, sexual violence, slapping, punching, misogyny, blood and pain kink, degradation, humiliation, oral (m!receiving), (painal) anal, ass to pussy, forced orgasm, creampie, and death

word count | 3.2k🤙🏻

As you sat staring at your own reflection in the two way mirror across from you, your hair a mess and dried blood lightly splattered across your face, sticky hands cuffed to the cold metal table, you started to wonder what led you here in the first place.

You were never abused or neglected. You didn’t have any head injuries growing up. In most ways, you were a perfectly normal girl. Your parents loved you, you had friends, a steady job that made you good money, so how the hell did you end up here?

You thought back to your childhood. You had witnessed many of your parents’ arguments, perhaps that was the cause? Or maybe seeing one too many horror movies? Listening to the wrong type of music? Were you just born with a screw loose? There had to be some sort of explanation for why you would have committed such horrid, atrocious acts. Maybe you’d never know. Perhaps it would be better if you didn’t. Maybe there was no need for closure. Maybe you just wanted an answer more for your loved ones than for yourself. You could live without it, but your parents? You knew they definitely would need one.

You felt as though you should be terrified at the fact you were being held in a police station. Any moment some detectives would walk through that padlocked door and expect you to give them all the answers as to why you did what you did, to give them some sort of clarity and insight. But you still had no idea what you would say, sitting in that uncomfortable stiff chair for what felt like hours you couldn’t even come up with an answer to yourself.

That wasn’t the worst you were dreading.

How do you look your mother or father in the eyes after something like this? How can you even be in their presence? It’s a different kind of pain when your mother or father is crying because of you, because of something you did. The disappointment, the disgust, the fear. How do you go from your father’s little girl or mother’s precious baby to this, a murderer? Would they blame themselves? Probably, even though it wouldn’t have been their fault. You knew this too, it could never be your parents’ fault. They did the best they could, which is all anyone could ask for. But facing them would be the hardest thing you would ever have to do. You saw the way they looked at you, like you weren’t their daughter anymore. You weren’t really, the daughter they knew wouldn’t have done what you did, had been doing for months. They didn’t raise you to be this way. You were an anomaly. You weren’t their child anymore, you were nothing to no one. Just another killer that needed to be behind bars, or better yet, a lethal injection.

You were destined to die, from the minute you were born. You probably deserved it, you did deserve it. Though death didn’t come by way of a lethal injection or prison violence like you assumed it would, no, it was much more interesting.

You never thought about what space was like, pondering the what if questions was never something you wasted your time on. But upon being assigned a space mission as a punishment, you were forced to wonder what it would be like. It didn’t seem like a punishment to you, you didn’t really care what happened to you mostly. It would be an elaborate way to die, that much you were sure of. Theatrical, is one of the first words that came to your mind. You weren’t scared, not much did scare you after all. What did slightly worry you, however, was the fact you’d be on this mission with several other individuals, most if not all of them there for the same reasons as you. Murderers, rapists, terrorists. What a motley crew it would be.

You knew Monty, through word of mouth. The two of you were in the same prison, segregated by gender of course, but you had heard of him. You could appreciate a familiar face in a very unfamiliar environment. He didn’t talk to you much, only when you both got assigned the same work detail. You both had strong similar opinions about the witch that played doctor and mad scientist that was on this mission with you all. You may or may not have made an agreement to eat her first if the station ran out of food. You might’ve considered him a friend, if you had the emotional availability for friends.

Who you never talked to, or even wanted to, was Ettore. Some kid done in for all kinds of sexual assault and violence, even some corpse fucking. I mean, if you’re desperate enough, you guessed. It’s not like you had any room to judge, considering. But even you thought the guy was a bit over the top. You were subtle, tried leaving no traces; Ettore was messy, no condom, coming inside every girl he forced himself on, his bloody fingerprints everywhere. Some people just weren’t smart enough to think of those things. Men hardly ever think things through. You didn’t know what he went through, but you didn’t find it in yourself to care. He was a monster, just like you.

Ettore stared at all the women on board, even the men sometimes, but you always felt his eyes on you. Maybe it was because you were closer to his age than all the others, but he just liked your appearance the most, but you didn’t appreciate it nevertheless. You thought about how pretty his shiny crimson blood would like coating your hands every time he made eye contact with you. Thought about how his gurgles would sound if you slit his throat, choking on his own blood.

You make promises to yourself. You say, you’re never going to do this thing again. You won’t ruin your life like this, you can’t. But then like all promises, you break them and you continue to destroy yourself and everything around you. It’s inevitable, like death. You crave and you ache and you feel like you can’t live if you can’t carry on with this obsession, you need to drown yourself in it. The pain of living with knowing that you’re a monster seems more appealing than the pain of never being able to fulfill that craving ever again. It’s a sacrifice you have to be willing to make. But the difference between people like you and normal people is that your cravings supersedes the want to be normal and live without guilt or remorse. You can’t have it both ways, and you understand that better than most. You figured Ettore knew that too, and that’s the only reason you started to take an interest in him.

Ettore never seemed remorseful for what he did, not like the others. The others had regrets, they wished to go back in time and change what happened, they never wanted to end up in space. Neither did you, but remorse wasn’t in your programming. Regret wasn’t something you ever learned. The world couldn’t handle people like you, not at that time.

You didn’t really know what you were looking for in Ettore, definitely not comfort, he couldn’t give it if he tried. But that’s not what you wanted either, you hated nice people but they were easier to take advantage of. You knew you wouldn’t be able to take advantage of Ettore, he’d be able to sniff that out from a mile away. You usually knew how to approach these things, how to approach your victims, but Ettore was different. He was like you, and you didn’t like that. You felt something you had never felt before; you felt threatened.

You and Ettore were assigned moping the station floors, a tedious endeavor, they’d just get dirtied up again. But this was your chance, to get rid of the threat once and for all. Dr. Dibs was a stupid cunt, for all those experiments she did, she couldn’t even spot you stealing one of her scalpels from her infirmary. Though, you figured she wouldn’t have cared that much anyway.

Ettore kept his eyes to the floor, mindlessly moping away at the tiled flooring. You removed the scalpel from the hiding place you made in your scrubs, gripping the handle firmly and plunging the blade down, aiming for the man’s neck. You barely made it halfway to your blade’s destination before Ettore grabbed your wrist, swiftly pinning you against the wall with a dark look in his eyes. You glared up at him, the feeling of having lost searing your insides.

Ettore easily overpowered you, holding both your wrists above your head with one hand and taking the scalpel in his other. He looked between you and the surgeon utensil with an almost amused expression. “Not the first time a woman’s ever tried to kill me.” He mused, “I’m sure that comes as a shock to ya.” His dry sense of humor didn’t sit well with you, though you didn’t have much of a sense of humor to begin with.

Instead of giving you a taste of your own medicine and killing you like you thought he would, he simply tore the blade through your scrubs top like it was second nature, exposing your breasts, your nipples hardening against the cold space station air. You heard him hum in appreciation, eyeing up your tits like they were a meal. “Not the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, but they’ll do.” You didn’t have time to be offended before asking yourself, ‘they’ll do’ for what?

You were suddenly slammed on the floor, your back hitting the tile hard, Ettore above you predatorily. “Get off me, you dick!” You seethed, struggling against his grasp.

Ettore pursed his lips, shoving his knee between your legs. “Nah, don’t think I will. Been wantin’ to have my way with ya for months. Thinking ‘bout your tight little holes every time I used that fuckin’ box. Don’t need it now.”

“Dibs will find out.”

He raised a brow. “Do you think that’s something I care about? Can’t imagine she’d be too thrilled about you tryna take a stab at me neither. Just shut your mouth and do as you’re told, and we won’t have any problems.” And just for good measure, the man atop you threw his fist across your face, blood and a tooth splattering to the once freshly cleaned floor. He groped at your breasts roughly, surely leaving bruises that would stay for awhile, if you even made it out of this encounter. You spat the rest of the blood that pooled in your mouth up at Ettore, watching the viscous fluid paint his fair complexion. “Bitch.”  He spoke simply before ripping off the rest of your clothing and moved up to straddle your chest, his hardened member hovering right above your face. “Suck. Better feel no teeth or you’ll lose ‘em.”

“Piss off!” Ettore smirked as he muffled your protests by shoving his cock inside your mouth, thrusting with abandon, your whimpers and choked gasps only spurring him on further. You felt like you were going to pass out, his dick blocking your airway, only getting barely enough just so you could keep going. You hoped he’d stop soon, but you’d soon regret wishing for that.

With a grunt, he pulled out of your mouth and flipped you onto your stomach.

“Ettore!” You growled, trying to escape the heavy weight of his body, to no avail. You let out a yelp as he landed a harsh smack to your ass, a new feeling of panic washing over you as you felt his hands spread your cheeks and hocked up a wad of spit on your puckered hole. “No-! Not there, please!”

Ettore chuckled darkly, “I like hearing ya beg, do it again.”

Your brows furrowed in discomfort as you felt the blunt tip of his cock press up against your ass, pushing every so slightly. You decided you wouldn’t give in to this vicious man, no matter what. He was yours to kill and torture, not the other way around. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. “Fuck you.” You yelled out in pain as Ettore forced his cock in your ass to the brim, his thickness bringing tears to your eyes immediately, the unfamiliar pain almost unbearable. “Stop!”

“Nah, sweetheart, you asked for it. And I’m gonna give it to ya.” He grunted as he pulled out, only to push back in roughly. You cried out in pain as you felt your tissue tear inside, your own blood acting as a lubricant so Ettore’s cock could slide in and out more easily. Each thrust added another wave of pain throughout your entire body, sweat beading along your forehead and shivers going up your spine that hit the base of your skull. You hissed as he pinned your head down to the cold tile, your tears and sweat mixing and creating a puddle that you’d be forced to clean up later.

“H-Hurts…” Was all you could say, and when you thought the pain would go away, Ettore would just speed up his thrusts, tearing away at you for his own pleasure. You felt his cock throb inside you, pulsing as he finally came with a grunt, forcing his seed deep inside you.

You whimpered as he pulled out, his cum mixed with your blood pooling into another puddle of pain. You wondered if he was done with you. Was he exhausted of you? Ettore inadvertently answered your silent question when he flipped you over on your back, his blood covered cock still hard and standing at attention. “I’m almost tempted to make you clean up your mess here…” He smirked, “but I wanna fill up that pretty pussy of yours, have you leaking from both filthy holes.”

You growled, trying to kick at him only for him to force himself between your thighs. “You’ve had enough, Ettore, now let me go!”

Ettore furrowed his brows. “Enough? No, it’s never enough.” You let out an involuntary moan as his thick cock slid right in your cunt, not for the blood but your own slick making it a welcome intrusion. “Fuck, so wet and tight. You sure you’re not getting off on being taken like this, luv?” No, absolutely not, but you couldn’t really teach him a lesson about the body’s natural defense mechanisms at a time like this.

The harsh, sopping slaps of skin pierced your ears when it would’ve been an otherwise chillingly quiet hallway. It was peaceful at times, the silence deafening to the point it blocked out all the other noise, from outside and from within. Ettore had to taint that too. You felt like you were rotting from the inside out, each thrust his cockhead hit your cervix, making your toes curl and eyes roll to the back of your skull, an aching pleasure like lightning bolts shooting through you. Your loud moans were unavoidable when he pushed your legs back against your torso, making his cock hit deeper, his thrusts picking up speed as he kept hitting that sweet spot inside you. The wiry hairs that decorated Ettore’s pelvis rubbed up against your clit in tandem with his brutal thrusts, your orgasm creeping up on you like a curse. 

You clenched hard around him as you came, earning a deep groan from the man, his seed spilling inside you. Perhaps in different circumstances, coming together would’ve been romantic. But alas, you had nothing but pure hatred for the man that was now trying to catch his breath above you, keeping a bruising grip on your legs as he came down from his high. Surely, he was done now, right? “You liked that, did ya? You want more, hm? I can give you more.”

You gave up trying to protest, knowing that it would only make him want you more, so you kept your mouth shut as he flipped you over again, entering you from behind. Your hands shook as his cock pile drived you, his body weight squishing you against the floor, your insides aching as the force of his thrusts moved them around. Unfortunately, you felt another orgasm bubbling up inside you, a growl escaping you as you felt betrayed by your own body. “Fuck!” Ettore moaned, “Your cunt’s squeezing me so fuckin’ tight. You fuckin’ love this cock, don’t ya, slut?” Rage coursed through you like your orgasms did, your moans and whimpers echoing the halls along with Ettore’s. Fuck him. Fuck this situation. You’d rather be dead.

Something shimmering caught your eye, your gaze shifting to spot your long forgotten scalpel laying just a few feet away from your body. If you could only reach…

“Mmm, maybe I’ll fuck a baby into you, maybe Dibs will give me special treatment as a reward.” Ettore chuckled darkly. “Maybe she’ll let me fuck you whenever I want.”

“Fuck you.” You spat venomously, yelping when Ettore suddenly flipped you over on your back and gave you a harsh slap.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch, and take this goddamn dick.” And when he raised his hand to deliver another slap, you opened your mouth and clamped down on his fingers with your teeth as hard as you could. 

Ettore let out a satisfying yell, the tangy taste of his blood coating your mouth and arousing you like nothing else could, his flesh tearing and bones beginning to crack and fracture before he pulled away, clutching his injured hand. You quickly kicked him in his lower abdomen and then his chest, successfully shoving him to the floor, giving you the chance to grab the scalpel. You sliced open your palm as you grabbed the wrong end in a rush, stinging pain and adrenaline surging through you.

You screamed as Ettore pounced on top of you, trying to grab the tool from your hands, his fists beating down on your back and arms. You elbowed him in the side, hearing him gasp for air before you pushed him off, quickly straddling him, pinning his hands beneath your knees. “Fuck you!” You shouted in his face, bringing the blade down and plunging it into his stomach. “Fuck you!” You brought the blade down again, this time in his shoulder. With a pained yell and a groan, Ettore ejaculated beneath you, your pussy rubbing against his cock when you straddled him, giving him one last climax before you forced the scalpel into his neck.

You watched with a grin as dark, viscous blood poured out of his various wounds, him choking and gurgling on his own blood as it continuously filled his mouth. You couldn’t focus on anything else but the oozing tears in his flesh that you made, you didn’t notice anything else around you as you watched the life slowly drain from his eyes, his blood creating a large puddle that covered your own blood and his sticky spend, like it was never even there.

You lived for this. The feeling of taking someone’s life. It took a while to get that feeling back, a lot of effort and pain, but it was worth it. Even when you were caught by the other crewmates and Dibs, even when Dibs tortured you as punishment, the other prisoners shoving you outside of the airlock chamber for their own safety…

…it was totally worth it.

sorry, i love my happy endings🤷🏻‍♀️

Deadlock

Summary: A jealous Ettore endeavours to remind her just who is in control | Word Count: 1.9k~ | Warnings: dubcon, ettore, face fucking, breath play, degradation, face slapping, jealous ettore, come swallowing

It was dangerous and they both knew it. Someone was bound to find out sooner or later. But what punishment could be worse than what their lives currently were? For her, the worst that Dibs could do was up her sedatives and forgo the use of lubrication when her bi-weekly examinations were due.

Ettore on the other hand didn't care much for thinking how he could be punished. All he thought in terms of that, was what he could do to her.

He remembers fucking seething, sat on one side of the canteen, not even paying attention to how tightly he gripped the fork in his palm, wound tight with anger and resentment as she watched her and Monte chat lazily while they picked out their food.

To anyone else, it was merely a friendly, non-committal conversation. And if Ettore really thought about it, he'd have realised that displaying any kind of jealousy would expose their situation, whatever it was.

So even though he wanted to put his fist through Monte's face, he remained seated, and occasionally caught her gaze as she ate as well. The stupid bitch furrowed her brows in confusion, wondering why he looked so pissed off.

She'd find out. He'd make sure of it.

Once the lights were dimmed in their superficial nighttime, he could feel his heart simmering with both jealous rage and excitement as he made his way to her cell on the other side of the ship. 

His blood ran hot with each shallow stride, his narrowed eyes creeping into every doorway as he passed with the soft pats of the air conditioning against his bare chest. His neck muscles tightened, forming his hands into fists in an attempt to remain grounded and in control of himself. 

In the low fluorescent light, he could make out her face and every single miniscule feature. Unlike the stoic, cold expression she wore when she was awake, when she was asleep she looked near peaceful.

Her arms were tucked beneath the pillow beneath her head, the slope of her back visible with the plain white shirt that clung to her form. The blanket, with her constant fidgeting, had slipped down her back, and he dug his fingernails into his palm when he saw the slither of soft, feminine skin at her hip.

With a half-annoyed huff, she turned over in her sleep, laying on her back, the flesh of her neck stretched so deliciously he could have sunk his teeth right into her and torn her apart like an over-ripened peach.

From this distance, he swore he felt the vibration of her fluttering heartbeat beneath her skin. The blood flooding through her veins.

All laid out like this, vulnerable and open, his mind began to whir as if he were in first gear, his thoughts banging loud and intrusive. His darkened eyes traced the contours of her face with his gaze, so achingly real and fragile.

Her eyes flew open when his palm wrenched over her mouth tightly, fingers digging into her jaw painfully and the other hand pinning her arm to the mattress. For a brief moment, that wide-eyed, primal fear and hurriedly breathing as she woke made that raw excitement simmer hotter.

A smirk aroused across his face, dark, animalistic eyes drawing closer, and voice quiet like the whisper of a predator, stalking and mocking their prey.

"Quiet now," he hissed, his breath hot against her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "No screaming."

His voice carried a menacing edge, a promise of darker consequences if she dared to defy him.

Her heart pounded in her chest, a wild cacophony of fear and arousal. She tried to struggle against his hold, but his grip only tightened, holding her in place with a ruthless strength that left her feeling powerless.

Her eyes gleamed with anger as he peeled his hand away from her mouth, her words sharp like a knife’s edge, “what the fuck do you think you're doing?”

His smirk disappeared, a dark seriousness dancing in his eyes as he leaned closer, the intensity of his presence almost suffocating. "Reminding you of who's in control here."

She bristled at his arrogance, her jaw clenched in defiance. "You don't get to decide that," she shot back, her voice trembling with suppressed rage. "I'm not some toy for you to play with whenever you feel like it."

His jaw clenched, the muscles tensing with barely contained anger. "You were flirting," he accused, his voice low and edged with bitterness. "With him.”

She could have laughed.

“You cannot be fucking serious.”

Her breath crept back in her throat as soon as his hand wrapped around it, swallowing thickly to try and keep her expression neutral and unfearing.

“You and Monte can measure dicks all you like, but what I do is none of your damn business.”

His grip around her windpipe slowly loosened and he went quiet. But she knew better than to assume it meant this was resolved.

With lips pressed together in annoyance, his fingers crept into her hair at her crown and pulled her forcefully from her bed, her knees knocking against the floor with a pained wince as he forced her to kneel in front of him.

The tug at her roots hurt, but all the same, once she saw how he eagerly lowered his sweatpants over his hips, grunting with annoyance the longer it took, arousal pooled in her stomach nonetheless.

“Had enough of your fucking voice.”

He stroked himself firmly in his palm, rousing himself to half hardness, her hair still gripped in his other hand, “Open.”

Despite herself, she raised her chin and did no such thing, her jaw tightened in defiance.

A surprised gasp is all that came out when he struck the left side of her face, pain blooming in a harsh sting. And while her eyes were shut, Ettore held her jaw in a vice-like grip and pulled her back, taking advantage of her parted lips to slide his half hard cock into her mouth.

“Fuck -” he tipped his head back at the warmth of her throat squeezing him, trying to swallow air past the blockage that remained still. 

The hold on her hair remained tight, pushing her lips as far on himself as she would go, until he felt the fat head of his cock hit the back of her throat, spluttering softly around him as he hardened.

He used the leverage he had to move her head on him when, with a whine, her hands came to his thigh to push him away, as a means of punishing her.

“Shut the fuck up,” he warned lowly, watching with some sick kind of satisfaction as her eyes cracked open to look up at him, with those moist eyes he wouldn't admit he enjoyed so much.

He kept her there for a moment, before easing her off, allowing her to suck in air through her nose for a brief moment. But he didn't allow her a moment's reprieve for long and with the aid of her saliva coating his shaft, he fucked himself between her lips with ease, her whimpers coming quieter.

“Fuck - that's it-” he breathed, his voice softening as warmth crept up his spine, her eyelashes decorated with a constellation of tears as he snapped his hips against her face.

The sound that thumps throughout the room is borderline pornographic, hitting the back of her throat hard with little care if it hurts or not, the way she tries to swallow and gag around him is worth it.

He stills, pushing her head as far on him as she will go, a pleased smirk rising to his face as she glances up at him, with the beginnings of tears pooling in her waterline.

Held there, he counts mechanically in his head, watching the way she squirms for air.

“You look so fucking stupid with my cock in your mouth,” he grins darkly, moving her head side to side on him, the friction making a jolt of white hot pleasure zip through his body. He has to tighten his grip just to keep himself from coming too soon.

She whines, trying to pull herself back, gasping for air around his length.

“Hold it-”

She clenched her fists, eyes screwed shut so that tears now ran over her face. For that, he kept her there for a few more seconds, before loosening his grip, allowing his cock to slip from between her lips as she swallowed air once again down her lungs.

Moving the hair from her moistened face, he guided her back to him with a touch that was uncharacteristic. Ettore's eyes were hooded, feeling himself twitch with excitement as her lips instinctively parted. From this angle, he could see the way her nipples hardened beneath her shirt, and how her thighs were pressed together to relieve the ache that had formed there.

He tapped the now slick head of his cock against her bottom lip, “Go on, finish me off.”

She said nothing and took him, at first, slowly, bobbing on him with a vigour, pressing her tongue flat against the thick vein on the underside. A notion that made his balls tighten and his neck muscles strain.

He always liked her messy, so when he looked back down with awe at the way her saliva made his length glisten everytime she dove back on him, all he wanted to do was take back that control.

But instead he put his arms behind his back and watched, one of her hands came to the base of him, stroking what she couldn't fit comfortably. The other slipped beneath the waistband of her underwear, the moan she let out vibrating through him and tugging him closer to the edge.

As he neared it, his hips subconsciously matched the rhythm she made, chasing that delicious friction, her lips tight around him. And when he hand dropped to cup his balls, gently teasing him to come sooner than he wanted, he bought both hands to her face, threading them in her hair and fucked her mouth ceaselessly to completion.

She remained quiet, only letting out a few sounds that could have been between a whimper and a moan as he pushed his pelvis against her face, hard, one last time, and trembled with pleasure as his come slid down her throat.

The sensation of her swallowing around him had his fingers tighten in her hair with overstimulation. 

With one sure movement, he pulled himself from her lips, stroking his sensitive length against her wet, open mouth and watching in awe as his pearly spend painted her tongue.

She cracked her eyes open, her waterline moistened and red-rimmed. Her knees ached against the hard floor as Ettore smeared what was left on the tip over her cheek, leaving a trail of his come and her saliva sticky on her face.

Ettore's chest heaved, and she could watch him like this all day if she could, his lips parted as he watched her lips close to swallow. But he stepped back a pace and pulled his sweatpants back over his hips.

Just as quickly, his eyes were all dark again, his voice breathy and quick, “Don't push it,” he warned with icy, cold venom, “you won't like what happens if you do it again.”

With the musky taste of him coating her mouth and the wetness between her thighs, though she didn't express it, she very much doubted it.

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

JESUS WEPT KEKWWWWWWWw love that for you lmao, glad I could elicit such strong reactions🤣🤣💕💕💕💕💕

𝗖𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗴

this one's pretty gross ngl lol

Summary: You thought you could get away with one more adrenaline rush before the mission kills you.

Warnings: DARK NONCON, SMUT (MINORS DNI), mentions of murder, rape, torture, and necrophilia, serial killer!reader, sexual violence, slapping, punching, misogyny, blood and pain kink, degradation, humiliation, oral (m!receiving), (painal) anal, ass to pussy, forced orgasm, creampie, and death

word count | 3.2k🤙🏻

As you sat staring at your own reflection in the two way mirror across from you, your hair a mess and dried blood lightly splattered across your face, sticky hands cuffed to the cold metal table, you started to wonder what led you here in the first place.

You were never abused or neglected. You didn’t have any head injuries growing up. In most ways, you were a perfectly normal girl. Your parents loved you, you had friends, a steady job that made you good money, so how the hell did you end up here?

You thought back to your childhood. You had witnessed many of your parents’ arguments, perhaps that was the cause? Or maybe seeing one too many horror movies? Listening to the wrong type of music? Were you just born with a screw loose? There had to be some sort of explanation for why you would have committed such horrid, atrocious acts. Maybe you’d never know. Perhaps it would be better if you didn’t. Maybe there was no need for closure. Maybe you just wanted an answer more for your loved ones than for yourself. You could live without it, but your parents? You knew they definitely would need one.

You felt as though you should be terrified at the fact you were being held in a police station. Any moment some detectives would walk through that padlocked door and expect you to give them all the answers as to why you did what you did, to give them some sort of clarity and insight. But you still had no idea what you would say, sitting in that uncomfortable stiff chair for what felt like hours you couldn’t even come up with an answer to yourself.

That wasn’t the worst you were dreading.

How do you look your mother or father in the eyes after something like this? How can you even be in their presence? It’s a different kind of pain when your mother or father is crying because of you, because of something you did. The disappointment, the disgust, the fear. How do you go from your father’s little girl or mother’s precious baby to this, a murderer? Would they blame themselves? Probably, even though it wouldn’t have been their fault. You knew this too, it could never be your parents’ fault. They did the best they could, which is all anyone could ask for. But facing them would be the hardest thing you would ever have to do. You saw the way they looked at you, like you weren’t their daughter anymore. You weren’t really, the daughter they knew wouldn’t have done what you did, had been doing for months. They didn’t raise you to be this way. You were an anomaly. You weren’t their child anymore, you were nothing to no one. Just another killer that needed to be behind bars, or better yet, a lethal injection.

You were destined to die, from the minute you were born. You probably deserved it, you did deserve it. Though death didn’t come by way of a lethal injection or prison violence like you assumed it would, no, it was much more interesting.

You never thought about what space was like, pondering the what if questions was never something you wasted your time on. But upon being assigned a space mission as a punishment, you were forced to wonder what it would be like. It didn’t seem like a punishment to you, you didn’t really care what happened to you mostly. It would be an elaborate way to die, that much you were sure of. Theatrical, is one of the first words that came to your mind. You weren’t scared, not much did scare you after all. What did slightly worry you, however, was the fact you’d be on this mission with several other individuals, most if not all of them there for the same reasons as you. Murderers, rapists, terrorists. What a motley crew it would be.

You knew Monty, through word of mouth. The two of you were in the same prison, segregated by gender of course, but you had heard of him. You could appreciate a familiar face in a very unfamiliar environment. He didn’t talk to you much, only when you both got assigned the same work detail. You both had strong similar opinions about the witch that played doctor and mad scientist that was on this mission with you all. You may or may not have made an agreement to eat her first if the station ran out of food. You might’ve considered him a friend, if you had the emotional availability for friends.

Who you never talked to, or even wanted to, was Ettore. Some kid done in for all kinds of sexual assault and violence, even some corpse fucking. I mean, if you’re desperate enough, you guessed. It’s not like you had any room to judge, considering. But even you thought the guy was a bit over the top. You were subtle, tried leaving no traces; Ettore was messy, no condom, coming inside every girl he forced himself on, his bloody fingerprints everywhere. Some people just weren’t smart enough to think of those things. Men hardly ever think things through. You didn’t know what he went through, but you didn’t find it in yourself to care. He was a monster, just like you.

Ettore stared at all the women on board, even the men sometimes, but you always felt his eyes on you. Maybe it was because you were closer to his age than all the others, but he just liked your appearance the most, but you didn’t appreciate it nevertheless. You thought about how pretty his shiny crimson blood would like coating your hands every time he made eye contact with you. Thought about how his gurgles would sound if you slit his throat, choking on his own blood.

You make promises to yourself. You say, you’re never going to do this thing again. You won’t ruin your life like this, you can’t. But then like all promises, you break them and you continue to destroy yourself and everything around you. It’s inevitable, like death. You crave and you ache and you feel like you can’t live if you can’t carry on with this obsession, you need to drown yourself in it. The pain of living with knowing that you’re a monster seems more appealing than the pain of never being able to fulfill that craving ever again. It’s a sacrifice you have to be willing to make. But the difference between people like you and normal people is that your cravings supersedes the want to be normal and live without guilt or remorse. You can’t have it both ways, and you understand that better than most. You figured Ettore knew that too, and that’s the only reason you started to take an interest in him.

Ettore never seemed remorseful for what he did, not like the others. The others had regrets, they wished to go back in time and change what happened, they never wanted to end up in space. Neither did you, but remorse wasn’t in your programming. Regret wasn’t something you ever learned. The world couldn’t handle people like you, not at that time.

You didn’t really know what you were looking for in Ettore, definitely not comfort, he couldn’t give it if he tried. But that’s not what you wanted either, you hated nice people but they were easier to take advantage of. You knew you wouldn’t be able to take advantage of Ettore, he’d be able to sniff that out from a mile away. You usually knew how to approach these things, how to approach your victims, but Ettore was different. He was like you, and you didn’t like that. You felt something you had never felt before; you felt threatened.

You and Ettore were assigned moping the station floors, a tedious endeavor, they’d just get dirtied up again. But this was your chance, to get rid of the threat once and for all. Dr. Dibs was a stupid cunt, for all those experiments she did, she couldn’t even spot you stealing one of her scalpels from her infirmary. Though, you figured she wouldn’t have cared that much anyway.

Ettore kept his eyes to the floor, mindlessly moping away at the tiled flooring. You removed the scalpel from the hiding place you made in your scrubs, gripping the handle firmly and plunging the blade down, aiming for the man’s neck. You barely made it halfway to your blade’s destination before Ettore grabbed your wrist, swiftly pinning you against the wall with a dark look in his eyes. You glared up at him, the feeling of having lost searing your insides.

Ettore easily overpowered you, holding both your wrists above your head with one hand and taking the scalpel in his other. He looked between you and the surgeon utensil with an almost amused expression. “Not the first time a woman’s ever tried to kill me.” He mused, “I’m sure that comes as a shock to ya.” His dry sense of humor didn’t sit well with you, though you didn’t have much of a sense of humor to begin with.

Instead of giving you a taste of your own medicine and killing you like you thought he would, he simply tore the blade through your scrubs top like it was second nature, exposing your breasts, your nipples hardening against the cold space station air. You heard him hum in appreciation, eyeing up your tits like they were a meal. “Not the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, but they’ll do.” You didn’t have time to be offended before asking yourself, ‘they’ll do’ for what?

You were suddenly slammed on the floor, your back hitting the tile hard, Ettore above you predatorily. “Get off me, you dick!” You seethed, struggling against his grasp.

Ettore pursed his lips, shoving his knee between your legs. “Nah, don’t think I will. Been wantin’ to have my way with ya for months. Thinking ‘bout your tight little holes every time I used that fuckin’ box. Don’t need it now.”

“Dibs will find out.”

He raised a brow. “Do you think that’s something I care about? Can’t imagine she’d be too thrilled about you tryna take a stab at me neither. Just shut your mouth and do as you’re told, and we won’t have any problems.” And just for good measure, the man atop you threw his fist across your face, blood and a tooth splattering to the once freshly cleaned floor. He groped at your breasts roughly, surely leaving bruises that would stay for awhile, if you even made it out of this encounter. You spat the rest of the blood that pooled in your mouth up at Ettore, watching the viscous fluid paint his fair complexion. “Bitch.”  He spoke simply before ripping off the rest of your clothing and moved up to straddle your chest, his hardened member hovering right above your face. “Suck. Better feel no teeth or you’ll lose ‘em.”

“Piss off!” Ettore smirked as he muffled your protests by shoving his cock inside your mouth, thrusting with abandon, your whimpers and choked gasps only spurring him on further. You felt like you were going to pass out, his dick blocking your airway, only getting barely enough just so you could keep going. You hoped he’d stop soon, but you’d soon regret wishing for that.

With a grunt, he pulled out of your mouth and flipped you onto your stomach.

“Ettore!” You growled, trying to escape the heavy weight of his body, to no avail. You let out a yelp as he landed a harsh smack to your ass, a new feeling of panic washing over you as you felt his hands spread your cheeks and hocked up a wad of spit on your puckered hole. “No-! Not there, please!”

Ettore chuckled darkly, “I like hearing ya beg, do it again.”

Your brows furrowed in discomfort as you felt the blunt tip of his cock press up against your ass, pushing every so slightly. You decided you wouldn’t give in to this vicious man, no matter what. He was yours to kill and torture, not the other way around. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. “Fuck you.” You yelled out in pain as Ettore forced his cock in your ass to the brim, his thickness bringing tears to your eyes immediately, the unfamiliar pain almost unbearable. “Stop!”

“Nah, sweetheart, you asked for it. And I’m gonna give it to ya.” He grunted as he pulled out, only to push back in roughly. You cried out in pain as you felt your tissue tear inside, your own blood acting as a lubricant so Ettore’s cock could slide in and out more easily. Each thrust added another wave of pain throughout your entire body, sweat beading along your forehead and shivers going up your spine that hit the base of your skull. You hissed as he pinned your head down to the cold tile, your tears and sweat mixing and creating a puddle that you’d be forced to clean up later.

“H-Hurts…” Was all you could say, and when you thought the pain would go away, Ettore would just speed up his thrusts, tearing away at you for his own pleasure. You felt his cock throb inside you, pulsing as he finally came with a grunt, forcing his seed deep inside you.

You whimpered as he pulled out, his cum mixed with your blood pooling into another puddle of pain. You wondered if he was done with you. Was he exhausted of you? Ettore inadvertently answered your silent question when he flipped you over on your back, his blood covered cock still hard and standing at attention. “I’m almost tempted to make you clean up your mess here…” He smirked, “but I wanna fill up that pretty pussy of yours, have you leaking from both filthy holes.”

You growled, trying to kick at him only for him to force himself between your thighs. “You’ve had enough, Ettore, now let me go!”

Ettore furrowed his brows. “Enough? No, it’s never enough.” You let out an involuntary moan as his thick cock slid right in your cunt, not for the blood but your own slick making it a welcome intrusion. “Fuck, so wet and tight. You sure you’re not getting off on being taken like this, luv?” No, absolutely not, but you couldn’t really teach him a lesson about the body’s natural defense mechanisms at a time like this.

The harsh, sopping slaps of skin pierced your ears when it would’ve been an otherwise chillingly quiet hallway. It was peaceful at times, the silence deafening to the point it blocked out all the other noise, from outside and from within. Ettore had to taint that too. You felt like you were rotting from the inside out, each thrust his cockhead hit your cervix, making your toes curl and eyes roll to the back of your skull, an aching pleasure like lightning bolts shooting through you. Your loud moans were unavoidable when he pushed your legs back against your torso, making his cock hit deeper, his thrusts picking up speed as he kept hitting that sweet spot inside you. The wiry hairs that decorated Ettore’s pelvis rubbed up against your clit in tandem with his brutal thrusts, your orgasm creeping up on you like a curse. 

You clenched hard around him as you came, earning a deep groan from the man, his seed spilling inside you. Perhaps in different circumstances, coming together would’ve been romantic. But alas, you had nothing but pure hatred for the man that was now trying to catch his breath above you, keeping a bruising grip on your legs as he came down from his high. Surely, he was done now, right? “You liked that, did ya? You want more, hm? I can give you more.”

You gave up trying to protest, knowing that it would only make him want you more, so you kept your mouth shut as he flipped you over again, entering you from behind. Your hands shook as his cock pile drived you, his body weight squishing you against the floor, your insides aching as the force of his thrusts moved them around. Unfortunately, you felt another orgasm bubbling up inside you, a growl escaping you as you felt betrayed by your own body. “Fuck!” Ettore moaned, “Your cunt’s squeezing me so fuckin’ tight. You fuckin’ love this cock, don’t ya, slut?” Rage coursed through you like your orgasms did, your moans and whimpers echoing the halls along with Ettore’s. Fuck him. Fuck this situation. You’d rather be dead.

Something shimmering caught your eye, your gaze shifting to spot your long forgotten scalpel laying just a few feet away from your body. If you could only reach…

“Mmm, maybe I’ll fuck a baby into you, maybe Dibs will give me special treatment as a reward.” Ettore chuckled darkly. “Maybe she’ll let me fuck you whenever I want.”

“Fuck you.” You spat venomously, yelping when Ettore suddenly flipped you over on your back and gave you a harsh slap.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch, and take this goddamn dick.” And when he raised his hand to deliver another slap, you opened your mouth and clamped down on his fingers with your teeth as hard as you could. 

Ettore let out a satisfying yell, the tangy taste of his blood coating your mouth and arousing you like nothing else could, his flesh tearing and bones beginning to crack and fracture before he pulled away, clutching his injured hand. You quickly kicked him in his lower abdomen and then his chest, successfully shoving him to the floor, giving you the chance to grab the scalpel. You sliced open your palm as you grabbed the wrong end in a rush, stinging pain and adrenaline surging through you.

You screamed as Ettore pounced on top of you, trying to grab the tool from your hands, his fists beating down on your back and arms. You elbowed him in the side, hearing him gasp for air before you pushed him off, quickly straddling him, pinning his hands beneath your knees. “Fuck you!” You shouted in his face, bringing the blade down and plunging it into his stomach. “Fuck you!” You brought the blade down again, this time in his shoulder. With a pained yell and a groan, Ettore ejaculated beneath you, your pussy rubbing against his cock when you straddled him, giving him one last climax before you forced the scalpel into his neck.

You watched with a grin as dark, viscous blood poured out of his various wounds, him choking and gurgling on his own blood as it continuously filled his mouth. You couldn’t focus on anything else but the oozing tears in his flesh that you made, you didn’t notice anything else around you as you watched the life slowly drain from his eyes, his blood creating a large puddle that covered your own blood and his sticky spend, like it was never even there.

You lived for this. The feeling of taking someone’s life. It took a while to get that feeling back, a lot of effort and pain, but it was worth it. Even when you were caught by the other crewmates and Dibs, even when Dibs tortured you as punishment, the other prisoners shoving you outside of the airlock chamber for their own safety…

…it was totally worth it.

sorry, i love my happy endings🤷🏻‍♀️

𝗖𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗴

this one's pretty gross ngl lol

Summary: You thought you could get away with one more adrenaline rush before the mission kills you.

Warnings: DARK NONCON, SMUT (MINORS DNI), mentions of murder, rape, torture, and necrophilia, serial killer!reader, sexual violence, slapping, punching, misogyny, blood and pain kink, degradation, humiliation, oral (m!receiving), (painal) anal, ass to pussy, forced orgasm, creampie, and death

word count | 3.2k🤙🏻

As you sat staring at your own reflection in the two way mirror across from you, your hair a mess and dried blood lightly splattered across your face, sticky hands cuffed to the cold metal table, you started to wonder what led you here in the first place.

You were never abused or neglected. You didn’t have any head injuries growing up. In most ways, you were a perfectly normal girl. Your parents loved you, you had friends, a steady job that made you good money, so how the hell did you end up here?

You thought back to your childhood. You had witnessed many of your parents’ arguments, perhaps that was the cause? Or maybe seeing one too many horror movies? Listening to the wrong type of music? Were you just born with a screw loose? There had to be some sort of explanation for why you would have committed such horrid, atrocious acts. Maybe you’d never know. Perhaps it would be better if you didn’t. Maybe there was no need for closure. Maybe you just wanted an answer more for your loved ones than for yourself. You could live without it, but your parents? You knew they definitely would need one.

You felt as though you should be terrified at the fact you were being held in a police station. Any moment some detectives would walk through that padlocked door and expect you to give them all the answers as to why you did what you did, to give them some sort of clarity and insight. But you still had no idea what you would say, sitting in that uncomfortable stiff chair for what felt like hours you couldn’t even come up with an answer to yourself.

That wasn’t the worst you were dreading.

How do you look your mother or father in the eyes after something like this? How can you even be in their presence? It’s a different kind of pain when your mother or father is crying because of you, because of something you did. The disappointment, the disgust, the fear. How do you go from your father’s little girl or mother’s precious baby to this, a murderer? Would they blame themselves? Probably, even though it wouldn’t have been their fault. You knew this too, it could never be your parents’ fault. They did the best they could, which is all anyone could ask for. But facing them would be the hardest thing you would ever have to do. You saw the way they looked at you, like you weren’t their daughter anymore. You weren’t really, the daughter they knew wouldn’t have done what you did, had been doing for months. They didn’t raise you to be this way. You were an anomaly. You weren’t their child anymore, you were nothing to no one. Just another killer that needed to be behind bars, or better yet, a lethal injection.

You were destined to die, from the minute you were born. You probably deserved it, you did deserve it. Though death didn’t come by way of a lethal injection or prison violence like you assumed it would, no, it was much more interesting.

You never thought about what space was like, pondering the what if questions was never something you wasted your time on. But upon being assigned a space mission as a punishment, you were forced to wonder what it would be like. It didn’t seem like a punishment to you, you didn’t really care what happened to you mostly. It would be an elaborate way to die, that much you were sure of. Theatrical, is one of the first words that came to your mind. You weren’t scared, not much did scare you after all. What did slightly worry you, however, was the fact you’d be on this mission with several other individuals, most if not all of them there for the same reasons as you. Murderers, rapists, terrorists. What a motley crew it would be.

You knew Monty, through word of mouth. The two of you were in the same prison, segregated by gender of course, but you had heard of him. You could appreciate a familiar face in a very unfamiliar environment. He didn’t talk to you much, only when you both got assigned the same work detail. You both had strong similar opinions about the witch that played doctor and mad scientist that was on this mission with you all. You may or may not have made an agreement to eat her first if the station ran out of food. You might’ve considered him a friend, if you had the emotional availability for friends.

Who you never talked to, or even wanted to, was Ettore. Some kid done in for all kinds of sexual assault and violence, even some corpse fucking. I mean, if you’re desperate enough, you guessed. It’s not like you had any room to judge, considering. But even you thought the guy was a bit over the top. You were subtle, tried leaving no traces; Ettore was messy, no condom, coming inside every girl he forced himself on, his bloody fingerprints everywhere. Some people just weren’t smart enough to think of those things. Men hardly ever think things through. You didn’t know what he went through, but you didn’t find it in yourself to care. He was a monster, just like you.

Ettore stared at all the women on board, even the men sometimes, but you always felt his eyes on you. Maybe it was because you were closer to his age than all the others, but he just liked your appearance the most, but you didn’t appreciate it nevertheless. You thought about how pretty his shiny crimson blood would like coating your hands every time he made eye contact with you. Thought about how his gurgles would sound if you slit his throat, choking on his own blood.

You make promises to yourself. You say, you’re never going to do this thing again. You won’t ruin your life like this, you can’t. But then like all promises, you break them and you continue to destroy yourself and everything around you. It’s inevitable, like death. You crave and you ache and you feel like you can’t live if you can’t carry on with this obsession, you need to drown yourself in it. The pain of living with knowing that you’re a monster seems more appealing than the pain of never being able to fulfill that craving ever again. It’s a sacrifice you have to be willing to make. But the difference between people like you and normal people is that your cravings supersedes the want to be normal and live without guilt or remorse. You can’t have it both ways, and you understand that better than most. You figured Ettore knew that too, and that’s the only reason you started to take an interest in him.

Ettore never seemed remorseful for what he did, not like the others. The others had regrets, they wished to go back in time and change what happened, they never wanted to end up in space. Neither did you, but remorse wasn’t in your programming. Regret wasn’t something you ever learned. The world couldn’t handle people like you, not at that time.

You didn’t really know what you were looking for in Ettore, definitely not comfort, he couldn’t give it if he tried. But that’s not what you wanted either, you hated nice people but they were easier to take advantage of. You knew you wouldn’t be able to take advantage of Ettore, he’d be able to sniff that out from a mile away. You usually knew how to approach these things, how to approach your victims, but Ettore was different. He was like you, and you didn’t like that. You felt something you had never felt before; you felt threatened.

You and Ettore were assigned moping the station floors, a tedious endeavor, they’d just get dirtied up again. But this was your chance, to get rid of the threat once and for all. Dr. Dibs was a stupid cunt, for all those experiments she did, she couldn’t even spot you stealing one of her scalpels from her infirmary. Though, you figured she wouldn’t have cared that much anyway.

Ettore kept his eyes to the floor, mindlessly moping away at the tiled flooring. You removed the scalpel from the hiding place you made in your scrubs, gripping the handle firmly and plunging the blade down, aiming for the man’s neck. You barely made it halfway to your blade’s destination before Ettore grabbed your wrist, swiftly pinning you against the wall with a dark look in his eyes. You glared up at him, the feeling of having lost searing your insides.

Ettore easily overpowered you, holding both your wrists above your head with one hand and taking the scalpel in his other. He looked between you and the surgeon utensil with an almost amused expression. “Not the first time a woman’s ever tried to kill me.” He mused, “I’m sure that comes as a shock to ya.” His dry sense of humor didn’t sit well with you, though you didn’t have much of a sense of humor to begin with.

Instead of giving you a taste of your own medicine and killing you like you thought he would, he simply tore the blade through your scrubs top like it was second nature, exposing your breasts, your nipples hardening against the cold space station air. You heard him hum in appreciation, eyeing up your tits like they were a meal. “Not the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, but they’ll do.” You didn’t have time to be offended before asking yourself, ‘they’ll do’ for what?

You were suddenly slammed on the floor, your back hitting the tile hard, Ettore above you predatorily. “Get off me, you dick!” You seethed, struggling against his grasp.

Ettore pursed his lips, shoving his knee between your legs. “Nah, don’t think I will. Been wantin’ to have my way with ya for months. Thinking ‘bout your tight little holes every time I used that fuckin’ box. Don’t need it now.”

“Dibs will find out.”

He raised a brow. “Do you think that’s something I care about? Can’t imagine she’d be too thrilled about you tryna take a stab at me neither. Just shut your mouth and do as you’re told, and we won’t have any problems.” And just for good measure, the man atop you threw his fist across your face, blood and a tooth splattering to the once freshly cleaned floor. He groped at your breasts roughly, surely leaving bruises that would stay for awhile, if you even made it out of this encounter. You spat the rest of the blood that pooled in your mouth up at Ettore, watching the viscous fluid paint his fair complexion. “Bitch.”  He spoke simply before ripping off the rest of your clothing and moved up to straddle your chest, his hardened member hovering right above your face. “Suck. Better feel no teeth or you’ll lose ‘em.”

“Piss off!” Ettore smirked as he muffled your protests by shoving his cock inside your mouth, thrusting with abandon, your whimpers and choked gasps only spurring him on further. You felt like you were going to pass out, his dick blocking your airway, only getting barely enough just so you could keep going. You hoped he’d stop soon, but you’d soon regret wishing for that.

With a grunt, he pulled out of your mouth and flipped you onto your stomach.

“Ettore!” You growled, trying to escape the heavy weight of his body, to no avail. You let out a yelp as he landed a harsh smack to your ass, a new feeling of panic washing over you as you felt his hands spread your cheeks and hocked up a wad of spit on your puckered hole. “No-! Not there, please!”

Ettore chuckled darkly, “I like hearing ya beg, do it again.”

Your brows furrowed in discomfort as you felt the blunt tip of his cock press up against your ass, pushing every so slightly. You decided you wouldn’t give in to this vicious man, no matter what. He was yours to kill and torture, not the other way around. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. “Fuck you.” You yelled out in pain as Ettore forced his cock in your ass to the brim, his thickness bringing tears to your eyes immediately, the unfamiliar pain almost unbearable. “Stop!”

“Nah, sweetheart, you asked for it. And I’m gonna give it to ya.” He grunted as he pulled out, only to push back in roughly. You cried out in pain as you felt your tissue tear inside, your own blood acting as a lubricant so Ettore’s cock could slide in and out more easily. Each thrust added another wave of pain throughout your entire body, sweat beading along your forehead and shivers going up your spine that hit the base of your skull. You hissed as he pinned your head down to the cold tile, your tears and sweat mixing and creating a puddle that you’d be forced to clean up later.

“H-Hurts…” Was all you could say, and when you thought the pain would go away, Ettore would just speed up his thrusts, tearing away at you for his own pleasure. You felt his cock throb inside you, pulsing as he finally came with a grunt, forcing his seed deep inside you.

You whimpered as he pulled out, his cum mixed with your blood pooling into another puddle of pain. You wondered if he was done with you. Was he exhausted of you? Ettore inadvertently answered your silent question when he flipped you over on your back, his blood covered cock still hard and standing at attention. “I’m almost tempted to make you clean up your mess here…” He smirked, “but I wanna fill up that pretty pussy of yours, have you leaking from both filthy holes.”

You growled, trying to kick at him only for him to force himself between your thighs. “You’ve had enough, Ettore, now let me go!”

Ettore furrowed his brows. “Enough? No, it’s never enough.” You let out an involuntary moan as his thick cock slid right in your cunt, not for the blood but your own slick making it a welcome intrusion. “Fuck, so wet and tight. You sure you’re not getting off on being taken like this, luv?” No, absolutely not, but you couldn’t really teach him a lesson about the body’s natural defense mechanisms at a time like this.

The harsh, sopping slaps of skin pierced your ears when it would’ve been an otherwise chillingly quiet hallway. It was peaceful at times, the silence deafening to the point it blocked out all the other noise, from outside and from within. Ettore had to taint that too. You felt like you were rotting from the inside out, each thrust his cockhead hit your cervix, making your toes curl and eyes roll to the back of your skull, an aching pleasure like lightning bolts shooting through you. Your loud moans were unavoidable when he pushed your legs back against your torso, making his cock hit deeper, his thrusts picking up speed as he kept hitting that sweet spot inside you. The wiry hairs that decorated Ettore’s pelvis rubbed up against your clit in tandem with his brutal thrusts, your orgasm creeping up on you like a curse. 

You clenched hard around him as you came, earning a deep groan from the man, his seed spilling inside you. Perhaps in different circumstances, coming together would’ve been romantic. But alas, you had nothing but pure hatred for the man that was now trying to catch his breath above you, keeping a bruising grip on your legs as he came down from his high. Surely, he was done now, right? “You liked that, did ya? You want more, hm? I can give you more.”

You gave up trying to protest, knowing that it would only make him want you more, so you kept your mouth shut as he flipped you over again, entering you from behind. Your hands shook as his cock pile drived you, his body weight squishing you against the floor, your insides aching as the force of his thrusts moved them around. Unfortunately, you felt another orgasm bubbling up inside you, a growl escaping you as you felt betrayed by your own body. “Fuck!” Ettore moaned, “Your cunt’s squeezing me so fuckin’ tight. You fuckin’ love this cock, don’t ya, slut?” Rage coursed through you like your orgasms did, your moans and whimpers echoing the halls along with Ettore’s. Fuck him. Fuck this situation. You’d rather be dead.

Something shimmering caught your eye, your gaze shifting to spot your long forgotten scalpel laying just a few feet away from your body. If you could only reach…

“Mmm, maybe I’ll fuck a baby into you, maybe Dibs will give me special treatment as a reward.” Ettore chuckled darkly. “Maybe she’ll let me fuck you whenever I want.”

“Fuck you.” You spat venomously, yelping when Ettore suddenly flipped you over on your back and gave you a harsh slap.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch, and take this goddamn dick.” And when he raised his hand to deliver another slap, you opened your mouth and clamped down on his fingers with your teeth as hard as you could. 

Ettore let out a satisfying yell, the tangy taste of his blood coating your mouth and arousing you like nothing else could, his flesh tearing and bones beginning to crack and fracture before he pulled away, clutching his injured hand. You quickly kicked him in his lower abdomen and then his chest, successfully shoving him to the floor, giving you the chance to grab the scalpel. You sliced open your palm as you grabbed the wrong end in a rush, stinging pain and adrenaline surging through you.

You screamed as Ettore pounced on top of you, trying to grab the tool from your hands, his fists beating down on your back and arms. You elbowed him in the side, hearing him gasp for air before you pushed him off, quickly straddling him, pinning his hands beneath your knees. “Fuck you!” You shouted in his face, bringing the blade down and plunging it into his stomach. “Fuck you!” You brought the blade down again, this time in his shoulder. With a pained yell and a groan, Ettore ejaculated beneath you, your pussy rubbing against his cock when you straddled him, giving him one last climax before you forced the scalpel into his neck.

You watched with a grin as dark, viscous blood poured out of his various wounds, him choking and gurgling on his own blood as it continuously filled his mouth. You couldn’t focus on anything else but the oozing tears in his flesh that you made, you didn’t notice anything else around you as you watched the life slowly drain from his eyes, his blood creating a large puddle that covered your own blood and his sticky spend, like it was never even there.

You lived for this. The feeling of taking someone’s life. It took a while to get that feeling back, a lot of effort and pain, but it was worth it. Even when you were caught by the other crewmates and Dibs, even when Dibs tortured you as punishment, the other prisoners shoving you outside of the airlock chamber for their own safety…

…it was totally worth it.

sorry, i love my happy endings🤷🏻‍♀️

💐🌷spread the love to the people you’re glad you’ve found in this corner of the internet 💐

thank you my lovely😭😭😭❤❤❤❤💓

𝒢𝑜𝑜𝒹 & 𝐹𝒶𝒾𝓉𝒽𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒮𝑒𝓇𝓋𝒶𝓃𝓉

haha, another fic I wanted to finish...I'm team Black, I swear...but Alicent is just too pretty I don't know what to say

Summary: Alicent struggles to deal with the feelings she harbors for you, her chambermaid and ally.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), religious guilt, infidelity, slight dubcon, oral, fingering, some angst

word count | 3.2k🤙🏻

Alicent sighs heavily as you inform her of yet another servant that has been chased away by her son, Prince Aegon. She didn’t know why she was surprised anymore, it happened so frequently. Even worse, she expected it to happen more often as he aged. She just couldn’t catch a break…

It was hard enough being married to an old, rotting man at such a young age, but to raise all of her children alone? Alicent often wondered how they aren’t turning out worse than they already are. She had no support from anyone, not her husband nor her own father, him banished from the Red Keep and Lord Strong only helping her for his own gain and power. She couldn’t even rely on her childhood friend anymore, now her stepdaughter. It was almost laughable the hand Alicent was dealt. The Gods were cruel. But they did give her one good thing though; you.

You had been Alicent’s personal servant ever since her last child was born, helping raise them the best you could whenever Alicent had to rule in the king’s name, meaning she was often busy. You clicked instantly, though you had a sort of talent for always getting on someone’s good side. You could see the light in her eyes that was slowly dying out the older she got and the more time she had to spend in the Red Keep. You could tell she missed her home and her father, so you often comforted her whenever those feelings seem to cloud her thoughts. She warmed up to you pretty quickly, longing for a companion other than her favorite child. And when she needed information, you’d get that for her too. Unlike Lord Strong, you didn’t ask for anything in return.

The first time you made her laugh was when you accidentally voiced your thoughts about fantasizing about kicking his cane out from underneath him. You thought she’d scold you for thinking such a horrible thing, but the prettiest sound you ever heard escaped from her lips. Bashful giggles filled her chambers which caused your face to heat but filled you with a sense of pride. Even so, Alicent looked more ashamed of herself for finding what you said funny. But from then on, you were determined to make your queen laugh whenever appropriate.

She confided in you a lot, about everything, even things she never admitted to herself before you came along. You never judged her, ever. You may have been biased but in your eyes, your queen could do no wrong. For Alicent, ever since getting close to you, she started to feel things she thought she never would again. She hadn’t felt this happy being around someone since Rhaenyra was her best friend all those years ago. But therein lied another problem; Alicent wasn’t just friends with the Targaryen princess, she wanted to be more than that. Now that she was feeling that same way about you, her feelings of guilt came back even stronger than before. 

Alicent always struggled with accepting herself. All her life, she was told how to behave and how she should be. Following the Faith of the Seven, being attracted to the same sex was strictly forbidden. It was just another reason to pick at her cuticles until they bled. She hadn’t done it in a long time (mostly thanks to you), but every time she had…sinful thoughts about you, she didn’t even notice she was hurting herself again until you called her out on it.

You were concerned and had asked what had been causing her to hurt herself again, but Alicent very well couldn’t tell you the truth, could she? So, she blamed it on Aegon’s behavior and that seemed to quell your curiosity, but you still kept a more watchful eye on her to keep herself from picking at her skin. You just didn’t know that you were the cause and kind of made it worse, though it meant you spent even more time with her, so she couldn’t really complain. But after this incident with the servant girl that Aegon harassed, you could tell Alicent needed time to herself, so you quietly dismissed yourself.

You felt horrible for thinking such things at a time like this, but you also felt you needed some special time to yourself. Unbeknownst to Alicent, you were having some of the same issues she had. Although, you were ashamed of yourself about it. Even though she was upset, Alicent looked absolutely stunning in her green dressing gown and the urge to relieve yourself was almost overbearing. Now, you weren’t the most lecherous individual, but to say you weren’t a prude would’ve been an understatement.

You had some distant relatives from Dorne and went to visit them for a couple months, your parents saying something about you needing to experience the world before being tied down to King’s Landing. You weren’t going to complain, in all your life you never thought you’d ever even travel past the Stormlands. You were somewhat sheltered, but just a few weeks in Dorne and you learned more than most highborn ladies ever did. You learned much about yourself with the help of the Dornish, especially learning about your sexuality which everyone was open about there. Even just a kiss in public between lovers always seemed to be looked down upon north of Dorne. You came back to King’s Landing changed, but for the better.

You found pleasure whenever you could and without shame, but you also knew you had a reputation to uphold, not just for yourself but for the family you worked for. Not many people get the opportunity to serve the royal family, so you knew acting out on your feelings for the Queen  was the quickest way to getting your head impaled on a pike for all the Red Keep to see. You would be labeled a heathen, whore, and a dishonor to your family and those statements would follow you all the way to the Seven Hells. So, you always found your release in the privacy of your own chambers, not having to fear wandering eyes or ears. If you were ever to go to a brothel on the Streets of Silk, word would travel before you could even blink. But you couldn’t think of that now. As you laid back in your bed with your hand in between your thighs, all you wanted to think of was your Queen Alicent.

You ran your delicate fingertips over your hardened nub hastily, grabbing at your breasts, desperation painting your features as you thought of Alicent’s soft lips. You imagined how they’d feel pressed against your own, on your neck, chest, and even further south. Just the image threatened to oversensitize you, but you needed the thought to find release. “Alicent…” You breathed a whimpery whisper, your peak building steadily, that burn in your belly spreading over you like waves. But just as you were about to finish, you heard a loud gasp. “My Queen-!” 

The Queen Alicent stood wide eyed in shock, mouth agape, unable to stop herself from looking where your fingers were coated in your arousal, your cunt glistening in the sunlight seeping through the curtains into your chambers. “My apologies.” Alicent spoke curtly, quickly turning and exiting your chambers without another word.

In quite a blunt manner, you expressed your embarrassment as soon as she was out of your sight: “Fuck.” You prayed to the Seven that she hadn’t heard you moan her name.

In truth, you had nothing to worry about. Queen Alicent was too flustered to even register that she was the object of your desire, blood thrummed loudly in her ears as her face reddened at the sight of you in the throws of near ecstasy. She didn’t know how to react, and she certainly didn’t know what to do about the ache in between her legs as she made it back to the sanctuary of her solar.

Alicent sat in her chair with a shaky exhale, closing her eyes to try and calm herself, only to see the image of your fingers inside yourself. She could still hear the faint sound of the moist suction from your fingers moving in and out, sending a shiver down her spine. She didn’t realize she was picking at her cuticles until she felt a droplet of blood running down her hand. It wasn’t enough that she had these sinful feelings and desires, the gods kept tempting her, but that went too far. How is she supposed to resist temptation when she has to be around someone so intoxicating as you? It wasn’t fair. Why were the gods consistent in handing her the short straws in life? What had she done to deserve such divine punishment?

The ache in Alicent’s core hadn’t faded, the image of you still burning through her mind. She gazed around, there was no one but her in her chambers and there was no one likely to barge in without knocking first. Perhaps this one time, she could try to quell that desire that’s begun to feel so familiar every time she’s around you. But she didn’t know where to start.

Of course Alicent knew of her clit, but she never dared to touch it lest she gets sent straight to one of the Seven Hells. But that spot of throbbing so badly, it would hurt to leave it untouched. So cautiously, she lifted her skirts past her knees, experimentally running her fingers up her inner thighs. The closer she got to that aching spot, the more her breath quickened. And just as she was about to reach closer, she stopped abruptly. No, as soon as she gives in to herself it's more likely she’s to give in to you. That couldn’t happen. That will not happen, or so she believed.

The next couple weeks were awkward, to say the least. The Queen could rarely make eye contact with you, let alone sit with you in private as you used to do. You knew it wasn’t really your fault, but you still felt guilty Alicent caught you like that. You knew she wasn’t used to pleasure, her marriage to an old man being proof enough. You felt bad for her, but you didn’t know how to help her if you even could. You tried easing into a discussion about it, but she never took the bait. You would’ve given up entirely if it weren’t for you catching her staring at you on multiple occasions. And besides, if she was offended or heard you moaning her name, you’d be a headless body right now. But the way you caught her looking at your fingers with an almost glazed over expression, you figured she wasn’t offended and uncomfortable with you, but herself. The poor woman, she didn't understand it at all, did she?

You decided to confront her later in the evening, when her other maids rested for the night and the children were asleep. Your heart thumped in your chest rapidly, scared but excited for how this conversation might turn out. You watched as she sat in her plush chair in exhaustion, looking at the window in thought. She was beautiful.

“Your Grace?” Your soft whisper almost startled Alicent if it wasn’t for the fact she was acutely aware of your presence at all times. “May I speak with you?”

Alicent shut her eyes, already knowing what you must’ve wanted to talk about. She did not want to have this conversation at all, but there was no escaping it any longer. “You may…” She spoke quietly, tensing up when you took steps closer to her, sitting on the footrest of her chair, entirely too close for comfort. It wouldn’t have bothered her before, your closeness, but all she could think about was you pleasuring yourself.

“If I can be quite blunt, your Grace…you’ve been distant these past couple weeks and it’s quite obvious why.” Alicent’s heart threatened to beat out of her chest. “I hadn’t meant you to see me like that, my Queen. I thought I was alone…”

Alicent sighed, shaking her head. “I’m the one at fault. I never should’ve barged into your chambers like that, especially without knocking. You’ve nothing to apologize for.”

“And I’ve also noticed…how you can’t keep your eyes off me since.” 

Alicent breathed in a sharp breath, her lips dipping into a frown. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. I believe you’re forgetting your place.”

With a shaky exhale, you placed a trembling hand on the Queen’s clothed knee, feeling her tense immediately. “I think you do, your Grace. I may be disrespectful right now, but I can’t help but see how everyone else treats you, including the King. I can see how he doesn’t even care to make you feel loved. You deserve to be with someone who makes you feel like the only woman in the Seven Kingdoms.”

Alicent blushed brightly, whispering your name in disbelief.

“Please, let me serve you, my lady. Properly. That’s what I’m here for. I can’t see you like this any longer.” And without another word from either you nor Alicent, you delicately lifted her skirts up past her knees, smelling her obvious arousal from where you sat. She wanted this, whether she admitted it or not.

Alicent looked down at you with a conflicted expression, the soft tips of your fingers gently spreading her legs apart and tracing them up her inner thighs. Her core throbbed achingly, the guilt of sinning threatening to overwhelm her, but the feeling of you finally coming into contact with her dripping cunt making those feelings retreat to the back of her mind. So wet, you thought, bringing her face closer and licking a stripe up her slick folds. Alicent gasped at the sensation, the feeling of your tongue running up and down her sensitive flesh, making her wonder why she’d never had this done to her before.

Alicent’s moan as you circled the tip of your tongue around her clit was music to your ears, you would die a happy woman if you were able to hear her moans again and again. You needed to hear more. You used your middle finger to gently push inside her, feeling her tight walls clenching at the intrusion. She moaned your name as you thrusted your finger against her sweet spot as you lapped at her engorged clit. You could tell she was already so close, her moans raising an octave, her walls trying to push your finger out, and her hips bucking against your face. That fool of a King never made her feel this way, that much you were sure of. Could it be you’d be the first person to make her feel such pleasure?

You moaned as the Queen Alicent released on your finger and tongue, your mouth eager to taste and lap up all her sweet juices until she was licked clean. You were grinning as you pulled away, looking up at her like she was the one to put the moon and stars into the night sky. The Queen herself looked quite satisfied, a thin sheet of sweat coating her hairline, her natural curly auburn waves cascading down her body and framing her like a golden halo. Her eyes were glazed over, pupils dilated in the aftermath of her pleasure. “May I kiss you, your Grace?” But those words seemed to snap her out of whatever haze she was in, her eyes blinking rapidly, the fondness in them disappearing altogether and replaced with shame and rage.

“Leave. Now.” Alicent snapped, hastily smoothing out her skirts and pushing you away to stand. The feeling of rejection overtook the feeling of pride when you saw her legs tremble as she walked to her chamber doors, opening one and giving you a look that almost scared you. You left without another word, wondering if you should write to your family one last time before you were surely beheaded for overstepping.

You awaited death, but it never came.

Queen Alicent couldn’t stop thinking about you, no matter how much she tried to distance herself from you, you were her every waking thought. She hated feeling this way, wracked with such guilt. She couldn’t even look at her husband anymore, for fear that somehow he’d be able to sense her debaucherous acts with a servant. Her thoughts never drifted far from how amazing you made her feel, the memory of your tongue on her never failing to make her shiver. She had never desired someone so much after Rhaenyra, she never wanted to, but you invaded her mind and made a home there.

More weeks passed, you and Alicent together but never more apart. She only talked to you when she needed to, which she tried talking to other servants in your stead. It was infuriating, and it hurt. You almost regretted making your desires known, but it was done. You couldn’t change what you did. The Queen would have to decide for herself whether she wanted to continue what relationship you had on her own.

But for Alicent, it couldn’t have been further from simple. She wanted you, truly, but she’d be putting you and herself in danger if she pursued more. There were spies everywhere, and she couldn’t have any harm come to you. But every day, seeing you, it got harder to hold herself back. She needed you, and she knew you needed her just as much. At the end of the day, it wasn’t a difficult decision. She couldn’t keep herself away from you. You were shocked when she came barging into your chambers one day, without knocking once again. But she was the Queen, she didn’t have to knock.

“Your Grace.” You stood up from your bed with a startle, your heartbeat picking up at the sight of Alicent’s beautiful frame. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Alicent sighed breathily. “I didn’t know I’d be coming here.”

You raised a brow. “Why are you here, your Grace?”

Without another word, the Queen rushed to you, taking you in her arms and colliding her lips with yours in a passionate embrace. You moaned in surprise, her soft lips felt like pillowy clouds as she moved against you, bringing your body close to hers desperately. You never thought a pair of lips could feel so heavenly. “Your Grace-”

“Alicent. Call me Alicent.” She interrupted, keeping her lips close to yours, never taking her eyes off you.

“Alicent…” You whispered, “are you sure you want this? Want me?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.” She spoke clearly, her big, brown, doe eyes boring into yours, making you feel like she could see into your soul. You believed her, and that was enough for you. Damn the consequences.

You surged forward, capturing her lips once again. “I’ve wanted this for an age.” You confessed against her lips, not having the will to pull away, even to tell her what you’ve wanted to say for what felt like a lifetime. “I’ve always wanted you, Alicent.”

“And I you…it took me a bit of time to figure that out. I apologize. I did not wish to be rude to you, but I was scared. I still am.”

You cupped her jaw, encouraging her to look into your eyes. “I’m scared too. But whatever happens will be worth being with you, my beautiful Queen.”

i'm team black, i swear😰

𝒢𝑜𝑜𝒹 & 𝐹𝒶𝒾𝓉𝒽𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒮𝑒𝓇𝓋𝒶𝓃𝓉

haha, another fic I wanted to finish...I'm team Black, I swear...but Alicent is just too pretty I don't know what to say

Summary: Alicent struggles to deal with the feelings she harbors for you, her chambermaid and ally.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), religious guilt, infidelity, slight dubcon, oral, fingering, some angst

word count | 3.2k🤙🏻

Alicent sighs heavily as you inform her of yet another servant that has been chased away by her son, Prince Aegon. She didn’t know why she was surprised anymore, it happened so frequently. Even worse, she expected it to happen more often as he aged. She just couldn’t catch a break…

It was hard enough being married to an old, rotting man at such a young age, but to raise all of her children alone? Alicent often wondered how they aren’t turning out worse than they already are. She had no support from anyone, not her husband nor her own father, him banished from the Red Keep and Lord Strong only helping her for his own gain and power. She couldn’t even rely on her childhood friend anymore, now her stepdaughter. It was almost laughable the hand Alicent was dealt. The Gods were cruel. But they did give her one good thing though; you.

You had been Alicent’s personal servant ever since her last child was born, helping raise them the best you could whenever Alicent had to rule in the king’s name, meaning she was often busy. You clicked instantly, though you had a sort of talent for always getting on someone’s good side. You could see the light in her eyes that was slowly dying out the older she got and the more time she had to spend in the Red Keep. You could tell she missed her home and her father, so you often comforted her whenever those feelings seem to cloud her thoughts. She warmed up to you pretty quickly, longing for a companion other than her favorite child. And when she needed information, you’d get that for her too. Unlike Lord Strong, you didn’t ask for anything in return.

The first time you made her laugh was when you accidentally voiced your thoughts about fantasizing about kicking his cane out from underneath him. You thought she’d scold you for thinking such a horrible thing, but the prettiest sound you ever heard escaped from her lips. Bashful giggles filled her chambers which caused your face to heat but filled you with a sense of pride. Even so, Alicent looked more ashamed of herself for finding what you said funny. But from then on, you were determined to make your queen laugh whenever appropriate.

She confided in you a lot, about everything, even things she never admitted to herself before you came along. You never judged her, ever. You may have been biased but in your eyes, your queen could do no wrong. For Alicent, ever since getting close to you, she started to feel things she thought she never would again. She hadn’t felt this happy being around someone since Rhaenyra was her best friend all those years ago. But therein lied another problem; Alicent wasn’t just friends with the Targaryen princess, she wanted to be more than that. Now that she was feeling that same way about you, her feelings of guilt came back even stronger than before. 

Alicent always struggled with accepting herself. All her life, she was told how to behave and how she should be. Following the Faith of the Seven, being attracted to the same sex was strictly forbidden. It was just another reason to pick at her cuticles until they bled. She hadn’t done it in a long time (mostly thanks to you), but every time she had…sinful thoughts about you, she didn’t even notice she was hurting herself again until you called her out on it.

You were concerned and had asked what had been causing her to hurt herself again, but Alicent very well couldn’t tell you the truth, could she? So, she blamed it on Aegon’s behavior and that seemed to quell your curiosity, but you still kept a more watchful eye on her to keep herself from picking at her skin. You just didn’t know that you were the cause and kind of made it worse, though it meant you spent even more time with her, so she couldn’t really complain. But after this incident with the servant girl that Aegon harassed, you could tell Alicent needed time to herself, so you quietly dismissed yourself.

You felt horrible for thinking such things at a time like this, but you also felt you needed some special time to yourself. Unbeknownst to Alicent, you were having some of the same issues she had. Although, you were ashamed of yourself about it. Even though she was upset, Alicent looked absolutely stunning in her green dressing gown and the urge to relieve yourself was almost overbearing. Now, you weren’t the most lecherous individual, but to say you weren’t a prude would’ve been an understatement.

You had some distant relatives from Dorne and went to visit them for a couple months, your parents saying something about you needing to experience the world before being tied down to King’s Landing. You weren’t going to complain, in all your life you never thought you’d ever even travel past the Stormlands. You were somewhat sheltered, but just a few weeks in Dorne and you learned more than most highborn ladies ever did. You learned much about yourself with the help of the Dornish, especially learning about your sexuality which everyone was open about there. Even just a kiss in public between lovers always seemed to be looked down upon north of Dorne. You came back to King’s Landing changed, but for the better.

You found pleasure whenever you could and without shame, but you also knew you had a reputation to uphold, not just for yourself but for the family you worked for. Not many people get the opportunity to serve the royal family, so you knew acting out on your feelings for the Queen  was the quickest way to getting your head impaled on a pike for all the Red Keep to see. You would be labeled a heathen, whore, and a dishonor to your family and those statements would follow you all the way to the Seven Hells. So, you always found your release in the privacy of your own chambers, not having to fear wandering eyes or ears. If you were ever to go to a brothel on the Streets of Silk, word would travel before you could even blink. But you couldn’t think of that now. As you laid back in your bed with your hand in between your thighs, all you wanted to think of was your Queen Alicent.

You ran your delicate fingertips over your hardened nub hastily, grabbing at your breasts, desperation painting your features as you thought of Alicent’s soft lips. You imagined how they’d feel pressed against your own, on your neck, chest, and even further south. Just the image threatened to oversensitize you, but you needed the thought to find release. “Alicent…” You breathed a whimpery whisper, your peak building steadily, that burn in your belly spreading over you like waves. But just as you were about to finish, you heard a loud gasp. “My Queen-!” 

The Queen Alicent stood wide eyed in shock, mouth agape, unable to stop herself from looking where your fingers were coated in your arousal, your cunt glistening in the sunlight seeping through the curtains into your chambers. “My apologies.” Alicent spoke curtly, quickly turning and exiting your chambers without another word.

In quite a blunt manner, you expressed your embarrassment as soon as she was out of your sight: “Fuck.” You prayed to the Seven that she hadn’t heard you moan her name.

In truth, you had nothing to worry about. Queen Alicent was too flustered to even register that she was the object of your desire, blood thrummed loudly in her ears as her face reddened at the sight of you in the throws of near ecstasy. She didn’t know how to react, and she certainly didn’t know what to do about the ache in between her legs as she made it back to the sanctuary of her solar.

Alicent sat in her chair with a shaky exhale, closing her eyes to try and calm herself, only to see the image of your fingers inside yourself. She could still hear the faint sound of the moist suction from your fingers moving in and out, sending a shiver down her spine. She didn’t realize she was picking at her cuticles until she felt a droplet of blood running down her hand. It wasn’t enough that she had these sinful feelings and desires, the gods kept tempting her, but that went too far. How is she supposed to resist temptation when she has to be around someone so intoxicating as you? It wasn’t fair. Why were the gods consistent in handing her the short straws in life? What had she done to deserve such divine punishment?

The ache in Alicent’s core hadn’t faded, the image of you still burning through her mind. She gazed around, there was no one but her in her chambers and there was no one likely to barge in without knocking first. Perhaps this one time, she could try to quell that desire that’s begun to feel so familiar every time she’s around you. But she didn’t know where to start.

Of course Alicent knew of her clit, but she never dared to touch it lest she gets sent straight to one of the Seven Hells. But that spot of throbbing so badly, it would hurt to leave it untouched. So cautiously, she lifted her skirts past her knees, experimentally running her fingers up her inner thighs. The closer she got to that aching spot, the more her breath quickened. And just as she was about to reach closer, she stopped abruptly. No, as soon as she gives in to herself it's more likely she’s to give in to you. That couldn’t happen. That will not happen, or so she believed.

The next couple weeks were awkward, to say the least. The Queen could rarely make eye contact with you, let alone sit with you in private as you used to do. You knew it wasn’t really your fault, but you still felt guilty Alicent caught you like that. You knew she wasn’t used to pleasure, her marriage to an old man being proof enough. You felt bad for her, but you didn’t know how to help her if you even could. You tried easing into a discussion about it, but she never took the bait. You would’ve given up entirely if it weren’t for you catching her staring at you on multiple occasions. And besides, if she was offended or heard you moaning her name, you’d be a headless body right now. But the way you caught her looking at your fingers with an almost glazed over expression, you figured she wasn’t offended and uncomfortable with you, but herself. The poor woman, she didn't understand it at all, did she?

You decided to confront her later in the evening, when her other maids rested for the night and the children were asleep. Your heart thumped in your chest rapidly, scared but excited for how this conversation might turn out. You watched as she sat in her plush chair in exhaustion, looking at the window in thought. She was beautiful.

“Your Grace?” Your soft whisper almost startled Alicent if it wasn’t for the fact she was acutely aware of your presence at all times. “May I speak with you?”

Alicent shut her eyes, already knowing what you must’ve wanted to talk about. She did not want to have this conversation at all, but there was no escaping it any longer. “You may…” She spoke quietly, tensing up when you took steps closer to her, sitting on the footrest of her chair, entirely too close for comfort. It wouldn’t have bothered her before, your closeness, but all she could think about was you pleasuring yourself.

“If I can be quite blunt, your Grace…you’ve been distant these past couple weeks and it’s quite obvious why.” Alicent’s heart threatened to beat out of her chest. “I hadn’t meant you to see me like that, my Queen. I thought I was alone…”

Alicent sighed, shaking her head. “I’m the one at fault. I never should’ve barged into your chambers like that, especially without knocking. You’ve nothing to apologize for.”

“And I’ve also noticed…how you can’t keep your eyes off me since.” 

Alicent breathed in a sharp breath, her lips dipping into a frown. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. I believe you’re forgetting your place.”

With a shaky exhale, you placed a trembling hand on the Queen’s clothed knee, feeling her tense immediately. “I think you do, your Grace. I may be disrespectful right now, but I can’t help but see how everyone else treats you, including the King. I can see how he doesn’t even care to make you feel loved. You deserve to be with someone who makes you feel like the only woman in the Seven Kingdoms.”

Alicent blushed brightly, whispering your name in disbelief.

“Please, let me serve you, my lady. Properly. That’s what I’m here for. I can’t see you like this any longer.” And without another word from either you nor Alicent, you delicately lifted her skirts up past her knees, smelling her obvious arousal from where you sat. She wanted this, whether she admitted it or not.

Alicent looked down at you with a conflicted expression, the soft tips of your fingers gently spreading her legs apart and tracing them up her inner thighs. Her core throbbed achingly, the guilt of sinning threatening to overwhelm her, but the feeling of you finally coming into contact with her dripping cunt making those feelings retreat to the back of her mind. So wet, you thought, bringing her face closer and licking a stripe up her slick folds. Alicent gasped at the sensation, the feeling of your tongue running up and down her sensitive flesh, making her wonder why she’d never had this done to her before.

Alicent’s moan as you circled the tip of your tongue around her clit was music to your ears, you would die a happy woman if you were able to hear her moans again and again. You needed to hear more. You used your middle finger to gently push inside her, feeling her tight walls clenching at the intrusion. She moaned your name as you thrusted your finger against her sweet spot as you lapped at her engorged clit. You could tell she was already so close, her moans raising an octave, her walls trying to push your finger out, and her hips bucking against your face. That fool of a King never made her feel this way, that much you were sure of. Could it be you’d be the first person to make her feel such pleasure?

You moaned as the Queen Alicent released on your finger and tongue, your mouth eager to taste and lap up all her sweet juices until she was licked clean. You were grinning as you pulled away, looking up at her like she was the one to put the moon and stars into the night sky. The Queen herself looked quite satisfied, a thin sheet of sweat coating her hairline, her natural curly auburn waves cascading down her body and framing her like a golden halo. Her eyes were glazed over, pupils dilated in the aftermath of her pleasure. “May I kiss you, your Grace?” But those words seemed to snap her out of whatever haze she was in, her eyes blinking rapidly, the fondness in them disappearing altogether and replaced with shame and rage.

“Leave. Now.” Alicent snapped, hastily smoothing out her skirts and pushing you away to stand. The feeling of rejection overtook the feeling of pride when you saw her legs tremble as she walked to her chamber doors, opening one and giving you a look that almost scared you. You left without another word, wondering if you should write to your family one last time before you were surely beheaded for overstepping.

You awaited death, but it never came.

Queen Alicent couldn’t stop thinking about you, no matter how much she tried to distance herself from you, you were her every waking thought. She hated feeling this way, wracked with such guilt. She couldn’t even look at her husband anymore, for fear that somehow he’d be able to sense her debaucherous acts with a servant. Her thoughts never drifted far from how amazing you made her feel, the memory of your tongue on her never failing to make her shiver. She had never desired someone so much after Rhaenyra, she never wanted to, but you invaded her mind and made a home there.

More weeks passed, you and Alicent together but never more apart. She only talked to you when she needed to, which she tried talking to other servants in your stead. It was infuriating, and it hurt. You almost regretted making your desires known, but it was done. You couldn’t change what you did. The Queen would have to decide for herself whether she wanted to continue what relationship you had on her own.

But for Alicent, it couldn’t have been further from simple. She wanted you, truly, but she’d be putting you and herself in danger if she pursued more. There were spies everywhere, and she couldn’t have any harm come to you. But every day, seeing you, it got harder to hold herself back. She needed you, and she knew you needed her just as much. At the end of the day, it wasn’t a difficult decision. She couldn’t keep herself away from you. You were shocked when she came barging into your chambers one day, without knocking once again. But she was the Queen, she didn’t have to knock.

“Your Grace.” You stood up from your bed with a startle, your heartbeat picking up at the sight of Alicent’s beautiful frame. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Alicent sighed breathily. “I didn’t know I’d be coming here.”

You raised a brow. “Why are you here, your Grace?”

Without another word, the Queen rushed to you, taking you in her arms and colliding her lips with yours in a passionate embrace. You moaned in surprise, her soft lips felt like pillowy clouds as she moved against you, bringing your body close to hers desperately. You never thought a pair of lips could feel so heavenly. “Your Grace-”

“Alicent. Call me Alicent.” She interrupted, keeping her lips close to yours, never taking her eyes off you.

“Alicent…” You whispered, “are you sure you want this? Want me?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.” She spoke clearly, her big, brown, doe eyes boring into yours, making you feel like she could see into your soul. You believed her, and that was enough for you. Damn the consequences.

You surged forward, capturing her lips once again. “I’ve wanted this for an age.” You confessed against her lips, not having the will to pull away, even to tell her what you’ve wanted to say for what felt like a lifetime. “I’ve always wanted you, Alicent.”

“And I you…it took me a bit of time to figure that out. I apologize. I did not wish to be rude to you, but I was scared. I still am.”

You cupped her jaw, encouraging her to look into your eyes. “I’m scared too. But whatever happens will be worth being with you, my beautiful Queen.”

i'm team black, i swear😰

Hi,

Today I came across a fic called The Blood of Eden that was written by Shesjustanothergeek and noticed that it was very similar to your lucifer Aemond fic.

I read it and yeah, there are some lines that I have in mine but I think they took enough liberties that made it their own. They didn't copy paste so it's not that big a deal

I'll allow it, it's better than mine anyway lmao. Thanks for letting me know though

THE CAUCASIAN CHRIST LMAOOOO

Thank you for the kind words lovely🥲💕

𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐄𝐝𝐞𝐧

didn't really wanna write this in the first place, considering my faith, but ugh it was too good of an idea to resist😅

Summary: Aemond was always God's favorite creation, that is, until He made you.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), ROUGH NONCON, Lucifer!Aemond x Eve!Reader (does this count as monster fucking?), a whole lotta blasphemy going on here, guilt, degradation, humiliation, corruption, taste of the forbidden fruit (aka oral, m!receiving), painful loss of virginity, blood, creampie, Aemond is very very mean

word count | 2.4k🤙🏻

As soon as Aemond was created, he knew he was made for greatness.

Aemond was the most beautiful out of all of the angels, the most beloved and cherished. God put a lot of effort into sculpting him out of the finest materials, making him appear ethereal, almost as much as Him. It shouldn’t have been much of a shock when some of the angels preferred his company to God’s, telling him how much better he could run things, what things he could achieve if the Creator simply…ceased to exist.

Aemond tried, and Aemond failed, forcing God’s hand to banish him and his fallen angels from paradise, making Aemond lose his eye in the process. He refused to bow down and blindly obey what claimed to be a superior being than everything else, and he was thrown into Hell for wanting his own independence.

Aemond grew bitter and angry, what kind of Father did that to his beloved creation? 

He vowed from then on that he’d try to spurn his Creator at every moment he could, devoting himself to make God have a perpetual headache as revenge. He’d destroy anything and everything He loved and wanted to protect, burn Heaven’s gates to the fucking ground. 

So when Aemond saw God had made such fragile little toys to roam what he called Earth, he took every opportunity to maim and kill each creature. But that only made God create beings that could take care of said creatures.

Aemond and his demons could only laugh at the smooth skinned being that God created out of dust. Dust, he thought derisively, how inferior this so-called human is compared to me to be made out of something so quaint.

Aemond attempted to push all sorts of dangerous thoughts into the human’s head, wanting the man to destroy and self-destruct, but all he managed to get through was the feeling of loneliness.

Then, in response to the human man’s loneliness, God created a similar being to keep this human company; you, whose beauty almost matched Aemond’s, and he suddenly came to the realization that he wasn’t God’s favorite anymore.

God didn’t walk with Adam as much as he did with you, little Eve, doting on you and granting you whatever you wished without you even having to ask. No, no, no, this won’t do, Aemond thought maliciously, only he could be God’s favorite. No…Aemond had to ruin you.

Watching you and Adam live in blissful ignorance, speaking and being in the presence of the Lord, boiled his blood, hotter than he had ever felt before. But one silver lining, the Tree of Knowledge.

God told you and Adam that you could eat from any tree or plant you wished, just never the Tree of Knowledge for you would surely die. Aemond smirked to himself as he devised his plan. He would make damn sure one of you would eat the forbidden fruit.

Aemond came to you when you were by yourself, disguising himself in the appearance of a serpent, the only form he could take in your presence, which irked him, but he’d make do.

You eyed the serpent carefully, watching as it slithered across the grass towards you, seemingly just watching you as you worked in the garden…until it started to speak.

“Did God really say you must not eat from any tree in the garden?” The serpent spoke.

“We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but the Lord God did say, you must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.” You answered hesitantly, still very confused why a snake was speaking to you like it was a man. But a part of you were intrigued, his voice was soft and alluring; entranced, you had to listen to what it had to say.

The serpent seemed to scoff. “Surely you will not die.” The serpent climbed up the tree, taking a bite from the lowest hanging fruit, a loud gasp eliciting from your own lips as you saw the being swallow and didn’t immediately fall dead. “See? Who is He to tell you what you can and can’t do, hm? Aren’t you supposed to be free?”

A sinking feeling formed in the pit of your stomach, feelings of rage and betrayal encompassing you. “I-I…I am free! You have forgotten your place, beast!” You snapped, “The Lord God loves us and wants the best for us. He must have a reason!”

“You think everything is perfect, silly girl?” The serpent giggled, circling around you like the predator he was, eyeing your naked form, finding a reluctant feeling of gratefulness that God chose your features so well. “There’s so much wonder here right in front of your eyes, all you have to do is simply take a bite of the fruit.”

You shook your head defiantly. “No. He said we’d die. Why would He lie?”

“Because, if you eat from the tree, your eyes will be opened for what the world really is. You’ll understand right from wrong. You will be like Him. Consider, for just a second, if God truly loved you, He wouldn’t keep all this knowledge from you, right? Why would He keep something so simple from someone so innocent? Maybe He wants it all for Himself because He doesn’t think you deserve to feel all the joys He feels, that you’ll never feel. Ask yourself, why does He give you less when He takes more? How being free is being locked inside this place? Maybe you're weak or a mistake or too emotional. Maybe you're not good enough for His world, maybe you never were…”

Aemond could see the hesitance slowly leave your face, finally considering what he was saying to be the truth. Yes, little Eve, eat. “He’ll never know, sweet little lamb. I’ll never tell, you have my word. You deserve to know, you deserve to be free.”

The serpent’s poisonous words penetrated into your mind, making your mouth water from just the thought of finally eating from the forbidden tree. You had to admit, the tree was pleasant to the eye, the fruit it bore looked so delectable, like water on a hot day, maybe it would have always come to this? If not now, then definitely later.

You picked the same piece of fruit the serpent had bit into before, the skin of the fruit so soft and ripe, you were practically drooling as you brought it to your lips, taking a considerable bite.

As soon as the sweet yet bitter flavor hit your tongue, it felt like all the walls came down and the heavens opened. It was the best thing you had ever tasted in your life, the taste almost making you moan aloud. And you weren’t dead, in fact, you had never felt more alive. But your skin prickled at the breeze hitting your skin, and you realized you were naked. How long have you been naked? And the serpent was no longer with you, instead, a tall figure stood in front of you now, transformed as soon as the fruit traveled down your throat.

Unlike the serpent, the being in front of you was too beautiful to be any sort of beast, or human for that matter. You teared up instantly, the sight being too amazing for your human mind to comprehend. “Who…who…?” Was all you could get out.

“I am called many names, little lamb. Lucifer, Satan, Devil, Father of Lies, and much more…but you may call me Aemond.”

Your stomach dropped, the fruit sitting in your stomach like a heavy stone, burning from the inside out; you wanted to vomit. What have you done? You almost screamed when he grabbed you by your hips and pulled you close to him, your chest touching his, your breasts pressed uncomfortably against the leather of his clothing.

“You just had to give into temptation, didn’t you? You just had to taste it.” The Devil disapproved mockingly, an evil grin decorating his face, making his visage all the more menacing.

“You…you deceived me!” You sobbed, “You lied! You-!”

“Ah, ah, ah, can’t claim yourself to be innocent now, little girl. Now, the trust is broken. How will your God ever love you now?” He purred, licking up your free flowing tears from your cheeks and moaning at the salty taste. You tried to pull away, but he was too strong, holding your head in place, his fingers digging into your skin, once never blemished nor tainted now marked by the beast. “Shh, it’s okay. Don’t cry. Besides, I’ve got something else for you to taste.”

You begged for him to stop as he forced you on your knees, the grassy floor that once felt so soft now cutting up your flesh, itching and burning. “Please, don’t do this to me!”

Aemond only snickered, “Poor girl, you have no idea how evil this world really is, huh? This is just a taste of what’s to come. Be grateful this is all I want…for now.” Aemond forced your mouth open, squeezing your cheeks together and forcing his fingers into your mouth, choking you until he replaced them with his cock. “Ah, such a sweet, innocent, unused mouth. Adam never made you do this, hm?”

You couldn’t force back your tears, copiously flowing down your cheeks along with the drool on your chin. The head of his cock kept hitting the back of your throat over and over, you gagged and almost vomited until he gave you a breather, pulling back and looking over your tear stained face with a sickening awe. “So pretty…prettier than me, I must admit.” His eyes darkened in jealousy. “That bastard can’t possibly love you more than me once I’m finished with you.”

In one swift movement, Aemond had you on all fours, shoving your face into the ground, dirt and grass covering the side of your face uncomfortably. You screamed as he shoved his cock inside you in one thrust, filling and stretching you almost impossibly wide. The pain had your ears ringing and vision going white, sweat beading out of every pore in your skin as he forced you to take all of him. “Fuck, so tight. Did Adam never take you to bed? I figured as much, such prudish creatures. Don’t worry, my sweet little lamb, I’ll break you in for him.”

As if you thought the pain couldn’t get any worse, his brutal thrusts had you sobbing, the amount of tears you shed causing the soil to turn into mud beneath you, grass getting underneath your fingernails with how hard you were holding on to keep yourself from passing out. “S-Stop, please, mercy!” You begged.

“Mercy?” He growled. “I’ve begged for mercy too many times to count, I never received any. Neither shall you. Now shut up and take my cock like a good little lamb.”

“God…please…make this end…” You whispered into the ground, only to get a mocking laugh in return.

“He can’t save you now.”

Aemond’s thrusts were wild, trying to make it as painful for you as possible, watching your blood drip down your inner thighs and making a little puddle on the ground, staining the grass. But along with the blood, an almost white fluid made a ring around the base of his cock. “Oh, starting to enjoy this now, are you?” He grinned evilly, gripping your hair to pull you back against his chest, his other hand reaching around to hold your neck.

As much as you hated to admit it, yes. The pain slowly went away, all that was left was an achy pressure in the pit of your stomach, a burning that seemed to grow in intensity with every harsh thrust he made. “S-Stop…”

Aemond hummed in disapproval. “Why do you resist the pleasure you feel? Give in to sin and you can have anything you want in the world.”

“No…” You said to yourself. “No!”

Aemond chuckled. “So defiant, I like that. Makes it more fun to break you.”

You gasped as Aemond reached down to rub circles around a spot you didn’t even know existed, the sensation overwhelming but you didn’t want it to stop, though you’d never admit this. It made the pressure in your stomach only grow faster, moans escaping you and getting louder the more he touched you. “What’s happening?” You cried, panicking.

“You’re about to reach your peak, little lamb. You’re about to feel one of the most pleasurable of sins, and all because of me.”

“No, stop! Don’t make me, please!” 

But it was too late, you reached the point of no return. It felt like you were going to die, the feeling was so intense, your whole body convulsing and spasming around Aemond’s cock. And with it, a dark feeling overtaking you. 

You groaned loudly, an almost growling noise, as you reached your peak, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, only to come back as black voids. There was no white in your eyes nor color, just darkness. Your fingernails pushed out, being replaced with claws. Your canines fell out, being replaced with fangs. A brutal ache in your skull had you crying out, blood dripping down your face as a horn on either side of your head grew from beneath your skin.

“Yes, dark little lamb, give in to me.” Aemond cooed, and for the first time, you listened to him.

Aemond flipped you onto your back, looking down at you in a mocking admiration, grinning as your skin grayed and veins went red, beginning to resemble one of his demons.

He was taken by surprise as you flipped him onto his back with a shocking amount of power, shoving his cock back inside you and began to ride him violently. “There she is, there’s my fallen angel.” He groaned as his cock began to pulse, your walls squeezing him just right as you made yourself come around him as many times as you could, the feeling addicting to you now. “Fuck, do you want my seed, little Eve?”

“Don’t call me that.” You growled, scratching up his chest with your new claws, drawing copious amounts of blood, your now forked tongue lapping up the red fluid. The added pain made Aemond reach his peak quickly, his cum filling you to the brim. With one more cry, you sprouted dark wings, fluttering softly but just enough it brought you to your feet. 

Aemond stood up with a grin, watching as his cum dripped down your shaky legs, mixing with your blood. “You’re mine now, understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Hm, now what shall I call you, if not Eve?” You pondered his question for a brief moment, before ultimately deciding your new name and your new fate.

“Lilith.”

hey y'all, thought i'd post a little something something for Valentine's Day. I wrote the first half of this months ago and then i got a boyfriend and stopped writing but i really liked this idea and decided to finish it. Hope you enjoyed!

💀💀THANK YOU LMAO The accuracy🤣

𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐄𝐝𝐞𝐧

didn't really wanna write this in the first place, considering my faith, but ugh it was too good of an idea to resist😅

Summary: Aemond was always God's favorite creation, that is, until He made you.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), ROUGH NONCON, Lucifer!Aemond x Eve!Reader (does this count as monster fucking?), a whole lotta blasphemy going on here, guilt, degradation, humiliation, corruption, taste of the forbidden fruit (aka oral, m!receiving), painful loss of virginity, blood, creampie, Aemond is very very mean

word count | 2.4k🤙🏻

As soon as Aemond was created, he knew he was made for greatness.

Aemond was the most beautiful out of all of the angels, the most beloved and cherished. God put a lot of effort into sculpting him out of the finest materials, making him appear ethereal, almost as much as Him. It shouldn’t have been much of a shock when some of the angels preferred his company to God’s, telling him how much better he could run things, what things he could achieve if the Creator simply…ceased to exist.

Aemond tried, and Aemond failed, forcing God’s hand to banish him and his fallen angels from paradise, making Aemond lose his eye in the process. He refused to bow down and blindly obey what claimed to be a superior being than everything else, and he was thrown into Hell for wanting his own independence.

Aemond grew bitter and angry, what kind of Father did that to his beloved creation? 

He vowed from then on that he’d try to spurn his Creator at every moment he could, devoting himself to make God have a perpetual headache as revenge. He’d destroy anything and everything He loved and wanted to protect, burn Heaven’s gates to the fucking ground. 

So when Aemond saw God had made such fragile little toys to roam what he called Earth, he took every opportunity to maim and kill each creature. But that only made God create beings that could take care of said creatures.

Aemond and his demons could only laugh at the smooth skinned being that God created out of dust. Dust, he thought derisively, how inferior this so-called human is compared to me to be made out of something so quaint.

Aemond attempted to push all sorts of dangerous thoughts into the human’s head, wanting the man to destroy and self-destruct, but all he managed to get through was the feeling of loneliness.

Then, in response to the human man’s loneliness, God created a similar being to keep this human company; you, whose beauty almost matched Aemond’s, and he suddenly came to the realization that he wasn’t God’s favorite anymore.

God didn’t walk with Adam as much as he did with you, little Eve, doting on you and granting you whatever you wished without you even having to ask. No, no, no, this won’t do, Aemond thought maliciously, only he could be God’s favorite. No…Aemond had to ruin you.

Watching you and Adam live in blissful ignorance, speaking and being in the presence of the Lord, boiled his blood, hotter than he had ever felt before. But one silver lining, the Tree of Knowledge.

God told you and Adam that you could eat from any tree or plant you wished, just never the Tree of Knowledge for you would surely die. Aemond smirked to himself as he devised his plan. He would make damn sure one of you would eat the forbidden fruit.

Aemond came to you when you were by yourself, disguising himself in the appearance of a serpent, the only form he could take in your presence, which irked him, but he’d make do.

You eyed the serpent carefully, watching as it slithered across the grass towards you, seemingly just watching you as you worked in the garden…until it started to speak.

“Did God really say you must not eat from any tree in the garden?” The serpent spoke.

“We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but the Lord God did say, you must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.” You answered hesitantly, still very confused why a snake was speaking to you like it was a man. But a part of you were intrigued, his voice was soft and alluring; entranced, you had to listen to what it had to say.

The serpent seemed to scoff. “Surely you will not die.” The serpent climbed up the tree, taking a bite from the lowest hanging fruit, a loud gasp eliciting from your own lips as you saw the being swallow and didn’t immediately fall dead. “See? Who is He to tell you what you can and can’t do, hm? Aren’t you supposed to be free?”

A sinking feeling formed in the pit of your stomach, feelings of rage and betrayal encompassing you. “I-I…I am free! You have forgotten your place, beast!” You snapped, “The Lord God loves us and wants the best for us. He must have a reason!”

“You think everything is perfect, silly girl?” The serpent giggled, circling around you like the predator he was, eyeing your naked form, finding a reluctant feeling of gratefulness that God chose your features so well. “There’s so much wonder here right in front of your eyes, all you have to do is simply take a bite of the fruit.”

You shook your head defiantly. “No. He said we’d die. Why would He lie?”

“Because, if you eat from the tree, your eyes will be opened for what the world really is. You’ll understand right from wrong. You will be like Him. Consider, for just a second, if God truly loved you, He wouldn’t keep all this knowledge from you, right? Why would He keep something so simple from someone so innocent? Maybe He wants it all for Himself because He doesn’t think you deserve to feel all the joys He feels, that you’ll never feel. Ask yourself, why does He give you less when He takes more? How being free is being locked inside this place? Maybe you're weak or a mistake or too emotional. Maybe you're not good enough for His world, maybe you never were…”

Aemond could see the hesitance slowly leave your face, finally considering what he was saying to be the truth. Yes, little Eve, eat. “He’ll never know, sweet little lamb. I’ll never tell, you have my word. You deserve to know, you deserve to be free.”

The serpent’s poisonous words penetrated into your mind, making your mouth water from just the thought of finally eating from the forbidden tree. You had to admit, the tree was pleasant to the eye, the fruit it bore looked so delectable, like water on a hot day, maybe it would have always come to this? If not now, then definitely later.

You picked the same piece of fruit the serpent had bit into before, the skin of the fruit so soft and ripe, you were practically drooling as you brought it to your lips, taking a considerable bite.

As soon as the sweet yet bitter flavor hit your tongue, it felt like all the walls came down and the heavens opened. It was the best thing you had ever tasted in your life, the taste almost making you moan aloud. And you weren’t dead, in fact, you had never felt more alive. But your skin prickled at the breeze hitting your skin, and you realized you were naked. How long have you been naked? And the serpent was no longer with you, instead, a tall figure stood in front of you now, transformed as soon as the fruit traveled down your throat.

Unlike the serpent, the being in front of you was too beautiful to be any sort of beast, or human for that matter. You teared up instantly, the sight being too amazing for your human mind to comprehend. “Who…who…?” Was all you could get out.

“I am called many names, little lamb. Lucifer, Satan, Devil, Father of Lies, and much more…but you may call me Aemond.”

Your stomach dropped, the fruit sitting in your stomach like a heavy stone, burning from the inside out; you wanted to vomit. What have you done? You almost screamed when he grabbed you by your hips and pulled you close to him, your chest touching his, your breasts pressed uncomfortably against the leather of his clothing.

“You just had to give into temptation, didn’t you? You just had to taste it.” The Devil disapproved mockingly, an evil grin decorating his face, making his visage all the more menacing.

“You…you deceived me!” You sobbed, “You lied! You-!”

“Ah, ah, ah, can’t claim yourself to be innocent now, little girl. Now, the trust is broken. How will your God ever love you now?” He purred, licking up your free flowing tears from your cheeks and moaning at the salty taste. You tried to pull away, but he was too strong, holding your head in place, his fingers digging into your skin, once never blemished nor tainted now marked by the beast. “Shh, it’s okay. Don’t cry. Besides, I’ve got something else for you to taste.”

You begged for him to stop as he forced you on your knees, the grassy floor that once felt so soft now cutting up your flesh, itching and burning. “Please, don’t do this to me!”

Aemond only snickered, “Poor girl, you have no idea how evil this world really is, huh? This is just a taste of what’s to come. Be grateful this is all I want…for now.” Aemond forced your mouth open, squeezing your cheeks together and forcing his fingers into your mouth, choking you until he replaced them with his cock. “Ah, such a sweet, innocent, unused mouth. Adam never made you do this, hm?”

You couldn’t force back your tears, copiously flowing down your cheeks along with the drool on your chin. The head of his cock kept hitting the back of your throat over and over, you gagged and almost vomited until he gave you a breather, pulling back and looking over your tear stained face with a sickening awe. “So pretty…prettier than me, I must admit.” His eyes darkened in jealousy. “That bastard can’t possibly love you more than me once I’m finished with you.”

In one swift movement, Aemond had you on all fours, shoving your face into the ground, dirt and grass covering the side of your face uncomfortably. You screamed as he shoved his cock inside you in one thrust, filling and stretching you almost impossibly wide. The pain had your ears ringing and vision going white, sweat beading out of every pore in your skin as he forced you to take all of him. “Fuck, so tight. Did Adam never take you to bed? I figured as much, such prudish creatures. Don’t worry, my sweet little lamb, I’ll break you in for him.”

As if you thought the pain couldn’t get any worse, his brutal thrusts had you sobbing, the amount of tears you shed causing the soil to turn into mud beneath you, grass getting underneath your fingernails with how hard you were holding on to keep yourself from passing out. “S-Stop, please, mercy!” You begged.

“Mercy?” He growled. “I’ve begged for mercy too many times to count, I never received any. Neither shall you. Now shut up and take my cock like a good little lamb.”

“God…please…make this end…” You whispered into the ground, only to get a mocking laugh in return.

“He can’t save you now.”

Aemond’s thrusts were wild, trying to make it as painful for you as possible, watching your blood drip down your inner thighs and making a little puddle on the ground, staining the grass. But along with the blood, an almost white fluid made a ring around the base of his cock. “Oh, starting to enjoy this now, are you?” He grinned evilly, gripping your hair to pull you back against his chest, his other hand reaching around to hold your neck.

As much as you hated to admit it, yes. The pain slowly went away, all that was left was an achy pressure in the pit of your stomach, a burning that seemed to grow in intensity with every harsh thrust he made. “S-Stop…”

Aemond hummed in disapproval. “Why do you resist the pleasure you feel? Give in to sin and you can have anything you want in the world.”

“No…” You said to yourself. “No!”

Aemond chuckled. “So defiant, I like that. Makes it more fun to break you.”

You gasped as Aemond reached down to rub circles around a spot you didn’t even know existed, the sensation overwhelming but you didn’t want it to stop, though you’d never admit this. It made the pressure in your stomach only grow faster, moans escaping you and getting louder the more he touched you. “What’s happening?” You cried, panicking.

“You’re about to reach your peak, little lamb. You’re about to feel one of the most pleasurable of sins, and all because of me.”

“No, stop! Don’t make me, please!” 

But it was too late, you reached the point of no return. It felt like you were going to die, the feeling was so intense, your whole body convulsing and spasming around Aemond’s cock. And with it, a dark feeling overtaking you. 

You groaned loudly, an almost growling noise, as you reached your peak, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, only to come back as black voids. There was no white in your eyes nor color, just darkness. Your fingernails pushed out, being replaced with claws. Your canines fell out, being replaced with fangs. A brutal ache in your skull had you crying out, blood dripping down your face as a horn on either side of your head grew from beneath your skin.

“Yes, dark little lamb, give in to me.” Aemond cooed, and for the first time, you listened to him.

Aemond flipped you onto your back, looking down at you in a mocking admiration, grinning as your skin grayed and veins went red, beginning to resemble one of his demons.

He was taken by surprise as you flipped him onto his back with a shocking amount of power, shoving his cock back inside you and began to ride him violently. “There she is, there’s my fallen angel.” He groaned as his cock began to pulse, your walls squeezing him just right as you made yourself come around him as many times as you could, the feeling addicting to you now. “Fuck, do you want my seed, little Eve?”

“Don’t call me that.” You growled, scratching up his chest with your new claws, drawing copious amounts of blood, your now forked tongue lapping up the red fluid. The added pain made Aemond reach his peak quickly, his cum filling you to the brim. With one more cry, you sprouted dark wings, fluttering softly but just enough it brought you to your feet. 

Aemond stood up with a grin, watching as his cum dripped down your shaky legs, mixing with your blood. “You’re mine now, understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Hm, now what shall I call you, if not Eve?” You pondered his question for a brief moment, before ultimately deciding your new name and your new fate.

“Lilith.”

hey y'all, thought i'd post a little something something for Valentine's Day. I wrote the first half of this months ago and then i got a boyfriend and stopped writing but i really liked this idea and decided to finish it. Hope you enjoyed!

YOU'RE AMAZING I LOVE YOU

𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐄𝐝𝐞𝐧

didn't really wanna write this in the first place, considering my faith, but ugh it was too good of an idea to resist😅

Summary: Aemond was always God's favorite creation, that is, until He made you.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), ROUGH NONCON, Lucifer!Aemond x Eve!Reader (does this count as monster fucking?), a whole lotta blasphemy going on here, guilt, degradation, humiliation, corruption, taste of the forbidden fruit (aka oral, m!receiving), painful loss of virginity, blood, creampie, Aemond is very very mean

word count | 2.4k🤙🏻

As soon as Aemond was created, he knew he was made for greatness.

Aemond was the most beautiful out of all of the angels, the most beloved and cherished. God put a lot of effort into sculpting him out of the finest materials, making him appear ethereal, almost as much as Him. It shouldn’t have been much of a shock when some of the angels preferred his company to God’s, telling him how much better he could run things, what things he could achieve if the Creator simply…ceased to exist.

Aemond tried, and Aemond failed, forcing God’s hand to banish him and his fallen angels from paradise, making Aemond lose his eye in the process. He refused to bow down and blindly obey what claimed to be a superior being than everything else, and he was thrown into Hell for wanting his own independence.

Aemond grew bitter and angry, what kind of Father did that to his beloved creation? 

He vowed from then on that he’d try to spurn his Creator at every moment he could, devoting himself to make God have a perpetual headache as revenge. He’d destroy anything and everything He loved and wanted to protect, burn Heaven’s gates to the fucking ground. 

So when Aemond saw God had made such fragile little toys to roam what he called Earth, he took every opportunity to maim and kill each creature. But that only made God create beings that could take care of said creatures.

Aemond and his demons could only laugh at the smooth skinned being that God created out of dust. Dust, he thought derisively, how inferior this so-called human is compared to me to be made out of something so quaint.

Aemond attempted to push all sorts of dangerous thoughts into the human’s head, wanting the man to destroy and self-destruct, but all he managed to get through was the feeling of loneliness.

Then, in response to the human man’s loneliness, God created a similar being to keep this human company; you, whose beauty almost matched Aemond’s, and he suddenly came to the realization that he wasn’t God’s favorite anymore.

God didn’t walk with Adam as much as he did with you, little Eve, doting on you and granting you whatever you wished without you even having to ask. No, no, no, this won’t do, Aemond thought maliciously, only he could be God’s favorite. No…Aemond had to ruin you.

Watching you and Adam live in blissful ignorance, speaking and being in the presence of the Lord, boiled his blood, hotter than he had ever felt before. But one silver lining, the Tree of Knowledge.

God told you and Adam that you could eat from any tree or plant you wished, just never the Tree of Knowledge for you would surely die. Aemond smirked to himself as he devised his plan. He would make damn sure one of you would eat the forbidden fruit.

Aemond came to you when you were by yourself, disguising himself in the appearance of a serpent, the only form he could take in your presence, which irked him, but he’d make do.

You eyed the serpent carefully, watching as it slithered across the grass towards you, seemingly just watching you as you worked in the garden…until it started to speak.

“Did God really say you must not eat from any tree in the garden?” The serpent spoke.

“We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but the Lord God did say, you must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.” You answered hesitantly, still very confused why a snake was speaking to you like it was a man. But a part of you were intrigued, his voice was soft and alluring; entranced, you had to listen to what it had to say.

The serpent seemed to scoff. “Surely you will not die.” The serpent climbed up the tree, taking a bite from the lowest hanging fruit, a loud gasp eliciting from your own lips as you saw the being swallow and didn’t immediately fall dead. “See? Who is He to tell you what you can and can’t do, hm? Aren’t you supposed to be free?”

A sinking feeling formed in the pit of your stomach, feelings of rage and betrayal encompassing you. “I-I…I am free! You have forgotten your place, beast!” You snapped, “The Lord God loves us and wants the best for us. He must have a reason!”

“You think everything is perfect, silly girl?” The serpent giggled, circling around you like the predator he was, eyeing your naked form, finding a reluctant feeling of gratefulness that God chose your features so well. “There’s so much wonder here right in front of your eyes, all you have to do is simply take a bite of the fruit.”

You shook your head defiantly. “No. He said we’d die. Why would He lie?”

“Because, if you eat from the tree, your eyes will be opened for what the world really is. You’ll understand right from wrong. You will be like Him. Consider, for just a second, if God truly loved you, He wouldn’t keep all this knowledge from you, right? Why would He keep something so simple from someone so innocent? Maybe He wants it all for Himself because He doesn’t think you deserve to feel all the joys He feels, that you’ll never feel. Ask yourself, why does He give you less when He takes more? How being free is being locked inside this place? Maybe you're weak or a mistake or too emotional. Maybe you're not good enough for His world, maybe you never were…”

Aemond could see the hesitance slowly leave your face, finally considering what he was saying to be the truth. Yes, little Eve, eat. “He’ll never know, sweet little lamb. I’ll never tell, you have my word. You deserve to know, you deserve to be free.”

The serpent’s poisonous words penetrated into your mind, making your mouth water from just the thought of finally eating from the forbidden tree. You had to admit, the tree was pleasant to the eye, the fruit it bore looked so delectable, like water on a hot day, maybe it would have always come to this? If not now, then definitely later.

You picked the same piece of fruit the serpent had bit into before, the skin of the fruit so soft and ripe, you were practically drooling as you brought it to your lips, taking a considerable bite.

As soon as the sweet yet bitter flavor hit your tongue, it felt like all the walls came down and the heavens opened. It was the best thing you had ever tasted in your life, the taste almost making you moan aloud. And you weren’t dead, in fact, you had never felt more alive. But your skin prickled at the breeze hitting your skin, and you realized you were naked. How long have you been naked? And the serpent was no longer with you, instead, a tall figure stood in front of you now, transformed as soon as the fruit traveled down your throat.

Unlike the serpent, the being in front of you was too beautiful to be any sort of beast, or human for that matter. You teared up instantly, the sight being too amazing for your human mind to comprehend. “Who…who…?” Was all you could get out.

“I am called many names, little lamb. Lucifer, Satan, Devil, Father of Lies, and much more…but you may call me Aemond.”

Your stomach dropped, the fruit sitting in your stomach like a heavy stone, burning from the inside out; you wanted to vomit. What have you done? You almost screamed when he grabbed you by your hips and pulled you close to him, your chest touching his, your breasts pressed uncomfortably against the leather of his clothing.

“You just had to give into temptation, didn’t you? You just had to taste it.” The Devil disapproved mockingly, an evil grin decorating his face, making his visage all the more menacing.

“You…you deceived me!” You sobbed, “You lied! You-!”

“Ah, ah, ah, can’t claim yourself to be innocent now, little girl. Now, the trust is broken. How will your God ever love you now?” He purred, licking up your free flowing tears from your cheeks and moaning at the salty taste. You tried to pull away, but he was too strong, holding your head in place, his fingers digging into your skin, once never blemished nor tainted now marked by the beast. “Shh, it’s okay. Don’t cry. Besides, I’ve got something else for you to taste.”

You begged for him to stop as he forced you on your knees, the grassy floor that once felt so soft now cutting up your flesh, itching and burning. “Please, don’t do this to me!”

Aemond only snickered, “Poor girl, you have no idea how evil this world really is, huh? This is just a taste of what’s to come. Be grateful this is all I want…for now.” Aemond forced your mouth open, squeezing your cheeks together and forcing his fingers into your mouth, choking you until he replaced them with his cock. “Ah, such a sweet, innocent, unused mouth. Adam never made you do this, hm?”

You couldn’t force back your tears, copiously flowing down your cheeks along with the drool on your chin. The head of his cock kept hitting the back of your throat over and over, you gagged and almost vomited until he gave you a breather, pulling back and looking over your tear stained face with a sickening awe. “So pretty…prettier than me, I must admit.” His eyes darkened in jealousy. “That bastard can’t possibly love you more than me once I’m finished with you.”

In one swift movement, Aemond had you on all fours, shoving your face into the ground, dirt and grass covering the side of your face uncomfortably. You screamed as he shoved his cock inside you in one thrust, filling and stretching you almost impossibly wide. The pain had your ears ringing and vision going white, sweat beading out of every pore in your skin as he forced you to take all of him. “Fuck, so tight. Did Adam never take you to bed? I figured as much, such prudish creatures. Don’t worry, my sweet little lamb, I’ll break you in for him.”

As if you thought the pain couldn’t get any worse, his brutal thrusts had you sobbing, the amount of tears you shed causing the soil to turn into mud beneath you, grass getting underneath your fingernails with how hard you were holding on to keep yourself from passing out. “S-Stop, please, mercy!” You begged.

“Mercy?” He growled. “I’ve begged for mercy too many times to count, I never received any. Neither shall you. Now shut up and take my cock like a good little lamb.”

“God…please…make this end…” You whispered into the ground, only to get a mocking laugh in return.

“He can’t save you now.”

Aemond’s thrusts were wild, trying to make it as painful for you as possible, watching your blood drip down your inner thighs and making a little puddle on the ground, staining the grass. But along with the blood, an almost white fluid made a ring around the base of his cock. “Oh, starting to enjoy this now, are you?” He grinned evilly, gripping your hair to pull you back against his chest, his other hand reaching around to hold your neck.

As much as you hated to admit it, yes. The pain slowly went away, all that was left was an achy pressure in the pit of your stomach, a burning that seemed to grow in intensity with every harsh thrust he made. “S-Stop…”

Aemond hummed in disapproval. “Why do you resist the pleasure you feel? Give in to sin and you can have anything you want in the world.”

“No…” You said to yourself. “No!”

Aemond chuckled. “So defiant, I like that. Makes it more fun to break you.”

You gasped as Aemond reached down to rub circles around a spot you didn’t even know existed, the sensation overwhelming but you didn’t want it to stop, though you’d never admit this. It made the pressure in your stomach only grow faster, moans escaping you and getting louder the more he touched you. “What’s happening?” You cried, panicking.

“You’re about to reach your peak, little lamb. You’re about to feel one of the most pleasurable of sins, and all because of me.”

“No, stop! Don’t make me, please!” 

But it was too late, you reached the point of no return. It felt like you were going to die, the feeling was so intense, your whole body convulsing and spasming around Aemond’s cock. And with it, a dark feeling overtaking you. 

You groaned loudly, an almost growling noise, as you reached your peak, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, only to come back as black voids. There was no white in your eyes nor color, just darkness. Your fingernails pushed out, being replaced with claws. Your canines fell out, being replaced with fangs. A brutal ache in your skull had you crying out, blood dripping down your face as a horn on either side of your head grew from beneath your skin.

“Yes, dark little lamb, give in to me.” Aemond cooed, and for the first time, you listened to him.

Aemond flipped you onto your back, looking down at you in a mocking admiration, grinning as your skin grayed and veins went red, beginning to resemble one of his demons.

He was taken by surprise as you flipped him onto his back with a shocking amount of power, shoving his cock back inside you and began to ride him violently. “There she is, there’s my fallen angel.” He groaned as his cock began to pulse, your walls squeezing him just right as you made yourself come around him as many times as you could, the feeling addicting to you now. “Fuck, do you want my seed, little Eve?”

“Don’t call me that.” You growled, scratching up his chest with your new claws, drawing copious amounts of blood, your now forked tongue lapping up the red fluid. The added pain made Aemond reach his peak quickly, his cum filling you to the brim. With one more cry, you sprouted dark wings, fluttering softly but just enough it brought you to your feet. 

Aemond stood up with a grin, watching as his cum dripped down your shaky legs, mixing with your blood. “You’re mine now, understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Hm, now what shall I call you, if not Eve?” You pondered his question for a brief moment, before ultimately deciding your new name and your new fate.

“Lilith.”

hey y'all, thought i'd post a little something something for Valentine's Day. I wrote the first half of this months ago and then i got a boyfriend and stopped writing but i really liked this idea and decided to finish it. Hope you enjoyed!

𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐄𝐝𝐞𝐧

didn't really wanna write this in the first place, considering my faith, but ugh it was too good of an idea to resist😅

Summary: Aemond was always God's favorite creation, that is, until He made you.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), ROUGH NONCON, Lucifer!Aemond x Eve!Reader (does this count as monster fucking?), a whole lotta blasphemy going on here, guilt, degradation, humiliation, corruption, taste of the forbidden fruit (aka oral, m!receiving), painful loss of virginity, blood, creampie, Aemond is very very mean

word count | 2.4k🤙🏻

As soon as Aemond was created, he knew he was made for greatness.

Aemond was the most beautiful out of all of the angels, the most beloved and cherished. God put a lot of effort into sculpting him out of the finest materials, making him appear ethereal, almost as much as Him. It shouldn’t have been much of a shock when some of the angels preferred his company to God’s, telling him how much better he could run things, what things he could achieve if the Creator simply…ceased to exist.

Aemond tried, and Aemond failed, forcing God’s hand to banish him and his fallen angels from paradise, making Aemond lose his eye in the process. He refused to bow down and blindly obey what claimed to be a superior being than everything else, and he was thrown into Hell for wanting his own independence.

Aemond grew bitter and angry, what kind of Father did that to his beloved creation? 

He vowed from then on that he’d try to spurn his Creator at every moment he could, devoting himself to make God have a perpetual headache as revenge. He’d destroy anything and everything He loved and wanted to protect, burn Heaven’s gates to the fucking ground. 

So when Aemond saw God had made such fragile little toys to roam what he called Earth, he took every opportunity to maim and kill each creature. But that only made God create beings that could take care of said creatures.

Aemond and his demons could only laugh at the smooth skinned being that God created out of dust. Dust, he thought derisively, how inferior this so-called human is compared to me to be made out of something so quaint.

Aemond attempted to push all sorts of dangerous thoughts into the human’s head, wanting the man to destroy and self-destruct, but all he managed to get through was the feeling of loneliness.

Then, in response to the human man’s loneliness, God created a similar being to keep this human company; you, whose beauty almost matched Aemond’s, and he suddenly came to the realization that he wasn’t God’s favorite anymore.

God didn’t walk with Adam as much as he did with you, little Eve, doting on you and granting you whatever you wished without you even having to ask. No, no, no, this won’t do, Aemond thought maliciously, only he could be God’s favorite. No…Aemond had to ruin you.

Watching you and Adam live in blissful ignorance, speaking and being in the presence of the Lord, boiled his blood, hotter than he had ever felt before. But one silver lining, the Tree of Knowledge.

God told you and Adam that you could eat from any tree or plant you wished, just never the Tree of Knowledge for you would surely die. Aemond smirked to himself as he devised his plan. He would make damn sure one of you would eat the forbidden fruit.

Aemond came to you when you were by yourself, disguising himself in the appearance of a serpent, the only form he could take in your presence, which irked him, but he’d make do.

You eyed the serpent carefully, watching as it slithered across the grass towards you, seemingly just watching you as you worked in the garden…until it started to speak.

“Did God really say you must not eat from any tree in the garden?” The serpent spoke.

“We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but the Lord God did say, you must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.” You answered hesitantly, still very confused why a snake was speaking to you like it was a man. But a part of you were intrigued, his voice was soft and alluring; entranced, you had to listen to what it had to say.

The serpent seemed to scoff. “Surely you will not die.” The serpent climbed up the tree, taking a bite from the lowest hanging fruit, a loud gasp eliciting from your own lips as you saw the being swallow and didn’t immediately fall dead. “See? Who is He to tell you what you can and can’t do, hm? Aren’t you supposed to be free?”

A sinking feeling formed in the pit of your stomach, feelings of rage and betrayal encompassing you. “I-I…I am free! You have forgotten your place, beast!” You snapped, “The Lord God loves us and wants the best for us. He must have a reason!”

“You think everything is perfect, silly girl?” The serpent giggled, circling around you like the predator he was, eyeing your naked form, finding a reluctant feeling of gratefulness that God chose your features so well. “There’s so much wonder here right in front of your eyes, all you have to do is simply take a bite of the fruit.”

You shook your head defiantly. “No. He said we’d die. Why would He lie?”

“Because, if you eat from the tree, your eyes will be opened for what the world really is. You’ll understand right from wrong. You will be like Him. Consider, for just a second, if God truly loved you, He wouldn’t keep all this knowledge from you, right? Why would He keep something so simple from someone so innocent? Maybe He wants it all for Himself because He doesn’t think you deserve to feel all the joys He feels, that you’ll never feel. Ask yourself, why does He give you less when He takes more? How being free is being locked inside this place? Maybe you're weak or a mistake or too emotional. Maybe you're not good enough for His world, maybe you never were…”

Aemond could see the hesitance slowly leave your face, finally considering what he was saying to be the truth. Yes, little Eve, eat. “He’ll never know, sweet little lamb. I’ll never tell, you have my word. You deserve to know, you deserve to be free.”

The serpent’s poisonous words penetrated into your mind, making your mouth water from just the thought of finally eating from the forbidden tree. You had to admit, the tree was pleasant to the eye, the fruit it bore looked so delectable, like water on a hot day, maybe it would have always come to this? If not now, then definitely later.

You picked the same piece of fruit the serpent had bit into before, the skin of the fruit so soft and ripe, you were practically drooling as you brought it to your lips, taking a considerable bite.

As soon as the sweet yet bitter flavor hit your tongue, it felt like all the walls came down and the heavens opened. It was the best thing you had ever tasted in your life, the taste almost making you moan aloud. And you weren’t dead, in fact, you had never felt more alive. But your skin prickled at the breeze hitting your skin, and you realized you were naked. How long have you been naked? And the serpent was no longer with you, instead, a tall figure stood in front of you now, transformed as soon as the fruit traveled down your throat.

Unlike the serpent, the being in front of you was too beautiful to be any sort of beast, or human for that matter. You teared up instantly, the sight being too amazing for your human mind to comprehend. “Who…who…?” Was all you could get out.

“I am called many names, little lamb. Lucifer, Satan, Devil, Father of Lies, and much more…but you may call me Aemond.”

Your stomach dropped, the fruit sitting in your stomach like a heavy stone, burning from the inside out; you wanted to vomit. What have you done? You almost screamed when he grabbed you by your hips and pulled you close to him, your chest touching his, your breasts pressed uncomfortably against the leather of his clothing.

“You just had to give into temptation, didn’t you? You just had to taste it.” The Devil disapproved mockingly, an evil grin decorating his face, making his visage all the more menacing.

“You…you deceived me!” You sobbed, “You lied! You-!”

“Ah, ah, ah, can’t claim yourself to be innocent now, little girl. Now, the trust is broken. How will your God ever love you now?” He purred, licking up your free flowing tears from your cheeks and moaning at the salty taste. You tried to pull away, but he was too strong, holding your head in place, his fingers digging into your skin, once never blemished nor tainted now marked by the beast. “Shh, it’s okay. Don’t cry. Besides, I’ve got something else for you to taste.”

You begged for him to stop as he forced you on your knees, the grassy floor that once felt so soft now cutting up your flesh, itching and burning. “Please, don’t do this to me!”

Aemond only snickered, “Poor girl, you have no idea how evil this world really is, huh? This is just a taste of what’s to come. Be grateful this is all I want…for now.” Aemond forced your mouth open, squeezing your cheeks together and forcing his fingers into your mouth, choking you until he replaced them with his cock. “Ah, such a sweet, innocent, unused mouth. Adam never made you do this, hm?”

You couldn’t force back your tears, copiously flowing down your cheeks along with the drool on your chin. The head of his cock kept hitting the back of your throat over and over, you gagged and almost vomited until he gave you a breather, pulling back and looking over your tear stained face with a sickening awe. “So pretty…prettier than me, I must admit.” His eyes darkened in jealousy. “That bastard can’t possibly love you more than me once I’m finished with you.”

In one swift movement, Aemond had you on all fours, shoving your face into the ground, dirt and grass covering the side of your face uncomfortably. You screamed as he shoved his cock inside you in one thrust, filling and stretching you almost impossibly wide. The pain had your ears ringing and vision going white, sweat beading out of every pore in your skin as he forced you to take all of him. “Fuck, so tight. Did Adam never take you to bed? I figured as much, such prudish creatures. Don’t worry, my sweet little lamb, I’ll break you in for him.”

As if you thought the pain couldn’t get any worse, his brutal thrusts had you sobbing, the amount of tears you shed causing the soil to turn into mud beneath you, grass getting underneath your fingernails with how hard you were holding on to keep yourself from passing out. “S-Stop, please, mercy!” You begged.

“Mercy?” He growled. “I’ve begged for mercy too many times to count, I never received any. Neither shall you. Now shut up and take my cock like a good little lamb.”

“God…please…make this end…” You whispered into the ground, only to get a mocking laugh in return.

“He can’t save you now.”

Aemond’s thrusts were wild, trying to make it as painful for you as possible, watching your blood drip down your inner thighs and making a little puddle on the ground, staining the grass. But along with the blood, an almost white fluid made a ring around the base of his cock. “Oh, starting to enjoy this now, are you?” He grinned evilly, gripping your hair to pull you back against his chest, his other hand reaching around to hold your neck.

As much as you hated to admit it, yes. The pain slowly went away, all that was left was an achy pressure in the pit of your stomach, a burning that seemed to grow in intensity with every harsh thrust he made. “S-Stop…”

Aemond hummed in disapproval. “Why do you resist the pleasure you feel? Give in to sin and you can have anything you want in the world.”

“No…” You said to yourself. “No!”

Aemond chuckled. “So defiant, I like that. Makes it more fun to break you.”

You gasped as Aemond reached down to rub circles around a spot you didn’t even know existed, the sensation overwhelming but you didn’t want it to stop, though you’d never admit this. It made the pressure in your stomach only grow faster, moans escaping you and getting louder the more he touched you. “What’s happening?” You cried, panicking.

“You’re about to reach your peak, little lamb. You’re about to feel one of the most pleasurable of sins, and all because of me.”

“No, stop! Don’t make me, please!” 

But it was too late, you reached the point of no return. It felt like you were going to die, the feeling was so intense, your whole body convulsing and spasming around Aemond’s cock. And with it, a dark feeling overtaking you. 

You groaned loudly, an almost growling noise, as you reached your peak, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, only to come back as black voids. There was no white in your eyes nor color, just darkness. Your fingernails pushed out, being replaced with claws. Your canines fell out, being replaced with fangs. A brutal ache in your skull had you crying out, blood dripping down your face as a horn on either side of your head grew from beneath your skin.

“Yes, dark little lamb, give in to me.” Aemond cooed, and for the first time, you listened to him.

Aemond flipped you onto your back, looking down at you in a mocking admiration, grinning as your skin grayed and veins went red, beginning to resemble one of his demons.

He was taken by surprise as you flipped him onto his back with a shocking amount of power, shoving his cock back inside you and began to ride him violently. “There she is, there’s my fallen angel.” He groaned as his cock began to pulse, your walls squeezing him just right as you made yourself come around him as many times as you could, the feeling addicting to you now. “Fuck, do you want my seed, little Eve?”

“Don’t call me that.” You growled, scratching up his chest with your new claws, drawing copious amounts of blood, your now forked tongue lapping up the red fluid. The added pain made Aemond reach his peak quickly, his cum filling you to the brim. With one more cry, you sprouted dark wings, fluttering softly but just enough it brought you to your feet. 

Aemond stood up with a grin, watching as his cum dripped down your shaky legs, mixing with your blood. “You’re mine now, understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Hm, now what shall I call you, if not Eve?” You pondered his question for a brief moment, before ultimately deciding your new name and your new fate.

“Lilith.”

hey y'all, thought i'd post a little something something for Valentine's Day. I wrote the first half of this months ago and then i got a boyfriend and stopped writing but i really liked this idea and decided to finish it. Hope you enjoyed!

Holy FUCK. Queen shit. You're amazing. This was so fuckin well written, seriously. I know something awful must've happened to that boy to make him the way he is, and you wrote out those reasonings so well I consider it canon now

The Hand That Feeds

Pairing: Ettore (High Life) x f!reader (physical attributes such as large breasts and alternative appearance described) Warnings: DEAD DOVE; DO NOT EAT. Mentions of child neglect, prostitution, substance abuse, death, murder. Dark and obsessive behaviour, attempted sexual assault, sub/dom dynamics, male masturbation, smut. Word count: ~3.7k

Summary: Ettore is used to having to take women by force - it's how he ended up on death row, and now a suicide mission in outer space. However, when a fellow crew member catches his eye and becomes the object of his twisted fantasies, he soon learns that the touch of a woman feels more satisfying when he's made to work for it. Based on this request.

Author's note: For @orcaunionleader. No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

Ettore screws his eyes shut. Strapped into the seat of the spaceship as it hurtles upwards, plunged suddenly into darkness when the lights fail, he feels trapped. It must have been twenty years, at least, since he has felt so vulnerable.

His earliest memory is sobbing as he is shut in the cupboard, the pitch blackness terrifying and too much to bear, but the sight of what he sees when he bursts out is so much worse.

The man on top of his mother, the noises they’re making, he feels strange, a combination of wanting to watch but also a churning in his tummy that makes him feel unwell. He retreats back into the dark, closing the door and hugs his knees to his chest until it all goes quiet again. 

Ettore soon learns it is better to enter a room head first - if he is able to see exactly what is happening then he knows quickly whether it’s safe to come out, or whether he needs to retreat. Not placing his entire body in the way reduces the likelihood of being grabbed, hit, shouted at.

There’s a different man each time, and every time they leave there’s always money on the bedside table of the small studio flat, and his mother is asleep. It’s then that he crawls into bed beside her, cuddling into her warmth, tracing his fingers over the marks that litter her inner elbow creases.

He doesn’t recall his mother ever having hugged him, when she is still like this is the only time he is able to get close to her, and he wraps his arms around her until the rumbling in his stomach gets too much to bear. He is always hungry.

His bare feet crunch against spilled Rice Krispies on the dirty kitchenette floor. Sometimes there is bread to eat, if he picks around the mold, sometimes there isn’t. He sees through the window that there is a place across the road that his mother goes to every few days. She always comes back with glass bottles that clink against each other in the plastic bag, but sometimes there is bread, and less often there are Rice Krispies. He likes those, though he often spills them.

The hunger pangs in his stomach grow so bad he begins to cry. His mother no longer feels warm when he cuddles against her. He is not sure when she last woke up, why she won’t wake up now. Maybe she is just really tired.

He can see the place where she goes to get food from the window, it is not very far, perhaps she’ll wake up by the time he gets back, and so he wanders out of the flat, not closing the door behind him, and walks across the road.

Ettore’s eyes light up the moment he sees the familiar blue box of Rice Krispies, clutching it tightly in both hands. It’s only then that he looks up into the horrified face of the woman standing over him, unable to comprehend why she’s looking at him like that, as she takes in the sight of the malnourished, barefoot child before her, wearing only a t-shirt and a dirty nappy.

There are a flurry of adults around him after that, and he’s taken to live somewhere else. He never sees his mother again. He hears the phrase “non verbal” used a lot, and learns that someone of his age should be able to speak. He doesn’t know how to, and so slowly he is taught how to communicate with words.

Even when Ettore has mastered the power of speech, he prefers not to use it. He finds watching people is far better than talking to them. Most people tend to talk a lot even when they have nothing to say. He prefers the quiet.

There are lots of other children his age at the facility he’s placed in, but slowly they leave, one by one, when adults come to look around. He never leaves though, he supposes it has something to do with the way he has overheard the staff describe his eyes as “haunted” and how strange it is that he has no interest in playing. Grown ups don’t want to share their homes with children that aren’t happy. Ettore doesn’t feel he has much at all to be happy about, when he curls his lips into a smile it feels strange against his face.

As Ettore grows older, he learns of what actually happened to him. His mother had been a heroin addict, she had prostituted herself to fund her habit, and he had been a victim of her extreme neglect. She had died of an overdose and he had laid beside her body for days, until his own hunger had gotten the better of him and he’d wandered into the local corner shop in search of food. He feels nothing upon finding this out, if anything he yearns for the simpler time of huddling against the warmth of his mother as she’d slept off her fix. No one will touch him now, he craves physical contact but doesn’t know how to ask for it.

He’s placed into a foster home when he’s a teenager, though it is a placement that’s short lived. The woman has a daughter, she’s a similar age to Ettore and he longs for her touch. He knows all too well from the way that she squirms under the intensity of his gaze and leaves the room whenever they are alone together that the feeling is not reciprocated.

To Ettore it does not matter. He always waited until his mother was asleep before cuddling her, he reasons that he can simply do the same here. And he does just that; waiting until night falls and the house is quiet, he sneaks into her room, laying down upon the bed beside her.

He breathes in deeply, a delicate floral scent filling his nostrils as he runs the tip of his nose over the softness of her hair. His fingertips creep beneath her pyjama top, and he exhales a shaky breath at how silky smooth her skin feels to touch.

It’s then that she wakes up and lets out a loud scream, he topples from the bed, startled by her outburst and her mother rushes into the room. That is Ettore’s first and only foster care placement, another term is now used to describe him; “maladaptive”.

But he takes away a valuable lesson from the situation - if he wishes to touch a woman then he needs to ensure she stays asleep.

He watches couples with resentment, knowing that no woman will ever kiss or caress him with any semblance of love, not willingly anyway. Women don’t want men that are haunted and maladaptive, but that’s fine with Ettore. If it’s not freely given then he knows precisely how to take it.

Ettore preys upon those that are fumbling with their keys in the lock as they try to return home, women under the influence who spend just a little too long on their phones while trying to get a cab, and the ones that walk hurriedly towards their cars in empty, darkened parking garages.

He moves slowly, carefully, his body only moving in sync with where his head is looking once he’s certain of the target he’s selected. He is unhurried in his movements, and so he goes utterly undetected until it’s too late.

It starts as simply knocking them out and then using their bodies however he sees fit, but it  rapidly escalates when he accidentally kills one of them, it happens twice more before he’s finally apprehended.

He doesn’t try to fight it, pleads guilty in court and is sent to prison. Even with good behaviour, his sentence is such that he’ll be elderly before he’s ever free. But any opportunity for eventual freedom is snuffed out when he gets into a scuffle with another prisoner.

Threats of solitary confinement hang heavily over him as he’s dragged away, and something inside of him snaps. He won’t go back to being locked away in the dark, he can’t. So he lashes out, and as he’s stomping upon the guard’s head he is reminded of the crunching of Rice Krispies beneath his feet from when he was a child.

The death penalty doesn’t exist within the United Kingdom’s judicial system, but he knows he’s being served a death sentence when he is given the news that he has been assigned to board a spaceship with other prisoners on a mission to extract alternative energy from a black hole. There is no coming back from that, he’s not foolish enough to believe otherwise, yet he readily accepts it. There is no other alternative for him, truthfully, there never has been.

When the lights eventually flicker back on and they are alerted they can unfasten their seatbelts, Ettore finally opens his eyes, looking at the prisoners that are seated around him. He’s surprised and intrigued to find there are women as well as men on board. He hasn’t encountered a woman since being sent to prison.

The scrubs they are given to wear are baggy and conceal much of their bodies, so to his disappointment he is unable to admire the feminine curves of the women on board - except one. She is shorter than he is, the remnants of a long since faded colour adorns the ends of her hair. Both her arms are full sleeved with tattoos. He wants to tear away her uniform and see what other artwork decorates her flesh. If he were a normal person, he’d strike up a conversation and ask, but Ettore is not one for words, so he simply stares, watching her every movement as a silent storm builds inside of him.

Though she is slenderly built, he can clearly see the way the baggy top half of her clothing curves over the ample swell of her breasts. His eyes linger there whenever he passes her in the corridor, picturing what it would be like to run his hands over them and squeeze their softness.

It’s these thoughts that are the cause of his every visit to The Box, the ship’s masturbatory aid. It’s used gratuitously by all crew mates, as sexual conduct between prisoners is prohibited on board, so he spills over his knuckles every chance he gets, imagining it’s inside of her. Would she claw at his shoulders and slap at him to get away, or simply lay still and take it?

Occasionally he deposits a sample into a plastic cup, taken away by Dibs, a supposed doctor on board who seems to be the main authority figure. She never fully explains what is to be done with his specimens, but once he has taken the reward he’s provided afterwards - usually a sedative - he cannot find it in himself to care.

He has heard whispers that she is conducting fertility experiments on the ship, attempting to artificially inseminate the female inmates. If that’s the case, he is thankful that his involvement is far less invasive than theirs must be, but ultimately it’s not his problem. He keeps to himself, ever watchful of those around him.

At least there is structure and routine; he goes to sleep and wakes up at the same time each day, participates in mandatory exercise regimes, eats regular meals and is assigned maintenance work duty.

Getting to know his own schedule means becoming familiar with other people’s, and that includes her’s. There is a sense of both excitement and comfort in knowing exactly where she is and exactly what she’s doing at all times.

The first time he encounters her coming out of the Box, he’s struck by how beautiful she is, pupils dilated, skin glowing with a light sheen of perspiration, her lips slightly parted as she attempts to calm her breathing. The heady aroma of her arousal lingers faintly as he goes in after her and he has never come harder in his life than he does on that day. He makes a point to go in after her every day after that.

If she were any other woman and these were any other circumstances, he’d have forced himself upon her by now, but they are in a confined space together and there’s no way for him to act upon his urges without there being almost immediate consequences for it. Every day it feels as though a coil inside of him is wound tighter, and every day he is left wondering if that will be the day when it finally snaps and he brings everything crashing down for both of them.

Despite his internalised conflict, she seems utterly unperplexed by him, which is confusing for Ettore. He is used to women regarding him with unease and disgust, so for her to be completely unphased by his presence is disarming. She is a criminal too though, he reasons, and for her to have been served what is effectively a death sentence she must have done something terrible. The thought makes her all the more alluring to him.

He is on cleaning duty today, tasked with scrubbing down the shower tiles. He enters the showers slowly, deliberately, unable to hear water running, so assumes that there’s no one in there.

But then he spots her, her hair wet and sticking to her bare shoulders, the tops of her breasts just about visible. She hasn’t seen him, yet. His eyes roam slowly over the greyscale body art that adorns her arms and thighs, wondering if there's more hidden beneath the towel that clings to her svelte figure. 

Absent-mindedly his fingers move over the triangular motif that's tattooed on his right forearm; though the scar is no longer visible he still feels the indentations of teeth. If he closes his eyes he still remembers the way that girl had fought, biting into his flesh as he'd wrapped his arm around her throat. He can never recall their faces, but he remembers the marks they left upon him - each one now covered by the same tattoo - a target so that he never forgets - a slash of a broken bottle against his bicep, acrylic nails gouging into his neck. They're never quite strong enough, though they fight to the end. He wonders if her ink serves the purpose of covering or reminding, what sinister deeds have led her down a path of such finality. He intends to find out.

Her head snaps up to look at him and he sucks in a harsh breath as she makes eye contact with him. She doesn’t scream or shy away, simply returns his unblinking stare and his fingers flex at his sides, mouth running dry as he considers whether he’ll need to silence her or not.

“Like what you see?” She whispers, letting the towel fall slowly away.

Ettore remains unblinking, though he feels shaken to his core on the inside. He drinks in the sight of her bare flesh, her full rounded breasts, the dip of her waist, her curvaceous hips, feeling his cock twitch in his scrubs.

What the fuck is she playing at?

“Fuckin’ cock tease,” he spits out, before turning and walking away to the Box.

He reaches his peak embarrassingly quickly, brow furrowed and jaw slack as sweat rolls down his temples.

Once the feeling of euphoria has worn off it is replaced by anger and confusion. Had she been trying to get him into trouble? Did she actually want him? Was she making a mockery of him?

His mood darkens at the thought and as his mind races after lights out that night, unable to find sleep. He slips out of his bunk and walks slowly, silently, along the corridor towards her cell.

He can see the outline of her body beneath the covers, and is suddenly unsure of what he came here to do. Torn between wanting to lunge for her, grab her by the throat and make her pay for her earlier indiscretion, or simply slip beneath the covers beside her and allow his hands to roam freely, he stands and does nothing, watching her.

“Come inside, if you want,” she calls out quietly to him in the darkness, making him startle, “bunkmates are all sleeping.”

Ettore hesitates, remaining rooted to the spot, unable to believe that a woman is actually inviting him into her space, that she wants to be near him.

“You gonna pussy out again like you did earlier?” She questions playfully.

He feels embarrassment flush his cheeks and allows it to propel him forward, over the threshold, into her space. He won’t let a woman get the better of him.

She shuffles back against the wall, lifting the blanket and patting the space beside her.

He hasn’t laid beside a woman since the night he was kicked out of his foster placement for getting into bed with the host’s teenage daughter, the only other times before that were when he huddled beside his passed out mother.

Ettore swallows thickly, not wanting to show weakness and quickly slips in beside her.

She smells of the ship’s standard issue soap, yet somehow on her flesh it has an utterly different scent, it’s sweet and intoxicating and has him longing to bury his face in the crook of her neck. He inhales deeply, feeling himself grow hard from her proximity and the warmth of her soft skin against his bare torso.

Apparently she feels it too, as she eagerly snakes a hand between them, palming at him through his shorts. 

A woman has never touched him like that before, not willingly. Usually he’s the one in control. It feels too much, too fast, bile rises in his throat and he jerks away from her, stalking silently back to his own cell, shame blooming hot and heavy in his chest as he feels tears burn beneath his eyelids.

What the fuck was that?

For the first time in Ettore’s life a woman had wanted to touch him, and he’d freaked out and run away. Does she not realise what he could do to her, what he’s capable of? He is supposed to inspire fear, not lust.

He wants to storm back to her cell and smash her head against the wall. She’s made him feel weak, inferior, yet despite that he can’t shake the feeling of her hand between his legs.

Unable to help himself, he waits for her as she exits the Box the next day, the telltale signs of her having just climaxed etched all over her features as she steps out. Her expression hardens when she sees him, rolling her eyes and side stepping him, until he grabs her wrist, stopping her from going anywhere.

“Let go of me, Ettore,” she says threateningly.

“How d’you know my name?” He asks, pulling her close so he can stare down into her eyes.

She smirks. “You’re not the only one that can skulk around the ship finding things out. Dibs left your file out the last time she had me up on the table, so I snooped. I know your name, your blood type, your sperm count–”

“Do you know what I’m serving time for?” He narrows his eyes as he asks this.

“No, I figure if we’re gonna explore whatever this is,” she gestures between them, “it’s better we don’t know that about each other.”

Ettore scoffs, quirking his lips as he eyes her carefully. “And what is this?”

She shrugs. “I dunno. Clearly you’re not comfortable letting me touch you…yet. So how about you touch me instead?”

He keeps a neutral expression, despite the surprise he feels once again that a woman would willingly let him touch her. “How would that work?”

“You’re about to use the Box, right? Take me in. Touch me while you touch yourself.”

Her words send an aching pulse straight to his balls and he nods, walking into the Box, not checking to see if she’s following. He knows she will be.

“Take it off, take it all off,” he orders quietly, gesturing to her clothes.

She pulls off her top and slips off her bottoms and his gaze rakes appreciatively over her form, only this time his hand slides into his trousers as he does so, his hand wrapping around his steadily hardening length.

Her lips are parted, eyes wide as she stares up at him, her breathing almost matching the intensity of his. Tentatively he leans down, inhaling her scent. The sweetness fills his nostrils and something inside of him snaps.

Pulling his erection free, he moves his fist over it in quick, aggressive strokes, biting at her pulsepoint, before moving his lips downwards towards her tits, pressing his face into their soft warmth, mouthing at them without restraint.

True to her word, she doesn’t touch him, keeping her hands balled into tight fists at her sides, though he can tell she is desperate to reach for him, her breaths erratic as she arches into his touch.

His stomach muscles contract, pressure building at the base of his spine as droplets of pre-cum help to guide his rapid, successive jerks of his cock.

Reaching between her legs, he groans at feeling how wet she is, a combination of her previous orgasm and how aroused she is from what’s currently happening between them.

He buries his face in her chest, sinking two fingers inside of her. There is no scratching, no slapping, no disassociating. She is soft and pliant against him, willing, and as often as he has fantasised about taking her by force, this feels better than anything he has ever experienced previously, better than anything he could have imagined.

As the pressure reaches its apex and he finally climaxes with a groan and a shudder, releasing white hot ropes of his seed across her lower belly, she reaches up with shaky, tentative hands to gently run her fingers through his hair.

“Good boy,” she coos, “did so well for me.”

He sighs, leaning over her, resting his head against the wall behind her. Next time he wants to sink inside of her, to feel what it’s like to be touched, wanted, needed. Because as haunted and maladapted as he is, as he opens his eyes and stares into hers he sees that she is too. Her darkness plays well with his, and in a cold and sterile environment Ettore has finally found the warmth he’s always craved.

Yuh just gonna reblog every fic of mine that gets stolen👍🏻

𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 - Aegon II Targaryen

don't judge me, i've been falling in lust with tom glynn-carney. i blame him and his stupid handsome face.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), incest, sub!Aegon, praise kink, oral (m and f!receiving), orgasm denial (if you squint), dacryphilia, mentions of abuse

word count | 2.6k🤙🏻

It was the middle of the night when you heard frantic knocking at your door.

You were restless and hadn’t been sleeping anyway, but it immediately concerned you at who would be up at such a late hour. But you relaxed when you opened your door to see your brother, Aegon. 

Of course it was him, who else would it be? You should’ve known, he has on more than several occasions snuck to your bedroom to seek comfort in your bed, ever since he was a young boy. It looked like tonight was no different. His eyes were red and watery, thick tears streaming down his face. He pleaded to you silently, and you instantly knew what he needed.

You quickly ushered him inside your chambers, sitting him on the edge of your bed, taking his hands and bringing them up to your lips to kiss them softly. “Again?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aegon let his tears fall freely, unashamed in your company, sighing in slight relief as you cupped his face, your soft skin on his encouraging him to look at you. “It’s becoming her favorite pastime.”

Your mother hasn’t always been the gentlest person, having to grow up quicker than most children, being forced to marry and bed a man over twice her age. It hardened her, made her rough around the edges that often showed itself to her own children. She was never the most patient or compassionate mother, with her eldest least of all. Aegon would often take the brunt of her verbal lashings, even taking her physical punishments. Your brother would often come to your chambers with a bruise or red markings on his face, not able to stand being alone knowing you had the tender caring presence that your mother never had. It seemed like all of Alicent’s better motherly qualities got transferred over to you, being the youngest of her children, the one who was always babied whether you liked it or not.

You never understood your siblings' hesitance to be around your mother when you were younger, you and Aemond would often be the two who’d spent the most time with her, you absolutely adored her. You didn’t understand until you stepped out of line one day. Up until that point, you were always the most well behaved, always did as you were told. You just wanted to have fun, for once. Aegon had taken you out to the streets of King’s Landing to show you the culture, but you got caught and were immediately brought back to your mother. You had never witnessed such anger from your mother before. She yelled at Aegon until she went blue in the face, scolding your brother for putting you at risk, slapping him multiple times. She had even slapped you when you attempted to intervene, telling her you wanted to go with him. You and Aegon hadn’t been allowed to see each other or leave your chambers for a week after that.

Aegon was always extra careful with you after that night, caring, something he rarely showed others. He never wanted you to see that side of your mother, always having to see it himself, so the fact that it happened because of him laid guilt on his shoulders heavily. You were the only person he ever treated with such care, he was like a different person when it came to you. It confused you to see him treat others so rudely, then turn around and treat you like a queen. You had realized that he had a fondness for you when he came to your chambers the night of your eighteenth name day, finally expressing how much he adored you, feeling protective of you ever since you were born. When he was with you, he never felt like he had to drink or whore around to feel at ease. Your presence was more than enough for him. He took you to bed that night, whispering how much he loved you over and over again.

Every night since then, he had snuck into your chambers, craving your embrace more than wine. Or, if your mother had another lashing out, he’d come to you to bask in your love, love he never received from Alicent. Just like tonight. “What happened this time?” You asked Aegon, gently thumbing away some of his fallen tears.

He chuckled bitterly. “I made a joke, like I always do. It was about our cunt of a half sister.”

You clicked your tongue in disapproval. “You know I don’t like that word. And you shouldn’t call her that in front of mother either, you know she was fond of her once.”

“I can’t imagine how, they’re completely different.”

You smiled shyly, bumping your shoulder against his. “So are we.”

He finally smiled, albeit sadly. “Yes. Though, you’re not as annoying as Rhaenyra.”

“Sounds like a challenge.” You smirked, poking his face until he gave you a genuine smile.

“Alright, alright, knock it off.” He giggled, grabbing your hand and holding it to his heart. “I need you, darling. I need you to distract me, please.” He begged, sniffling and wiping away the rest of his tears, turning to face you with pleading eyes.

You shushed him softly, holding his face as you placed feather light kisses all over him, hearing him let out a quiet whimper as you finally connected your lips with his. “Don’t worry, my love. I’m going to take care of you.” Aegon suddenly became more forceful, his desperation pouring into the kiss, grabbing onto your waist with a bruising grip. You gently pushed him away, ignoring his growl. “Hold on, hold on, baby. You’re not doing that, not tonight.” He let out a sharp breath as you pushed him back roughly, straddling his waist so you could have more control.

Aegon loved to control you in bed, but more often than not, you were the one to take control over him, especially when he came to you after one of your mother’s outbursts. That’s another reason he loved you, you always seemed to know what he needed. He loved being put in his place, he loved pleasing you, having your approval. He often thought he could live his entire life underneath you. “You’re gonna be a good boy for me, right?” You whispered, running a hand down his torso until you reached the laces on his trousers, feeling his already hardening cock push against the fabric.

“Yes, my love.” He whimpered, trying his best not to buck up against your hand as you undid the laces, slowly pulling down his pants. “Please…”

“Such a needy baby already.” You hummed, running your hands up his thighs, pushing his shirt up and over his head, rendering him completely bare underneath you while you were still in your shift. “Tell me what you want, love.” You cooed, kissing up his inner thighs, causing him to squirm.

“Need your mouth on my cock. Please, darling.” He whimpered pitifully, letting out a soft moan as you licked up the underside of his cock slowly, placing a gentle kiss on the tip. As you slowly took his throbbing member into your mouth inch by inch, the moan that escaped his lips was downright sinful it would even make the most lecherous whore blush. The beautiful sound traveled all the way down your body and made your walls clench around nothing, feeling painfully empty. “Need you to fuck me.” He whined, making you come off his cock with a stern glare.

“What? You’re not happy with me sucking your cock? Not enough for you? Maybe I should just stop then.”

“No, no!” He quickly cried. “Please, it felt so good.” You smirked as you got off your knees, pulling down your nightgown and stepping out of it, crawling on top of Aegon, him watching you with desperate glazed over eyes. “You’re so beautiful, my love.”

“I know.”

“Need you so bad.” Aegon whispered as he sat up to wrap his lips around one of your hardened nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from you.

“I know, I know, darling. But you’ll have to wait.” You yanked his head back by his hair roughly, biting your lip at the pretty little yelp he made, your desire between your legs growing rapidly. “You said you’d be a good boy for me, right?” You pushed him back down against the bed, crawling up until you lining up your dripping pussy with his face, his eager expression making a pleasurable ache twist in your gut. “So be a good boy and fuck me with your tongue, Aegon.”

You let out a relieved moan as Aegon immediately kissed your clit roughly, licking up and down your folds as you held onto his hair and tried to keep yourself steady. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and forced you down on his face completely, making sure you couldn’t move away even if you wanted to. But you absolutely did not have any intention to move, not when his tongue was working you to your orgasm so perfectly. He wasn’t always the best at it, but with your instruction, he became a master at pleasuring you. He always joked that it was the only thing he could do correctly, and if only he was as good at preparing to be king as he is at giving head. “Fuck, Aegon!” You cried out, rutting your hips against his face as he lapped at your clit like a man starved, pushing himself harder and harder until you had to pull his hair just to get some reprieve from overstimulation. “How do I taste, my love?”

“So good.” He slurred. “Sweeter than King’s Landing’s finest wine. I could get drunk off you."

“I think you already have.” You giggled, gasping loudly as he dove back in, moaning like he was being pleasured and not the other way around. “You’re making me feel so good, Aegon.” You smiled as he whimpered, loving how you praised him. “Fuck, I’m so close. You gonna make me come, my love?”

“Yes.” He whispered against you, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. “I wanna make you come. Please, come for me.” He whined, sucking on your clit hard until you cried.

“Yes, yes, yes.” You moaned as you rode his face, entirely uncaring if you were suffocating him or not, all you wanted was that sweet release. Aegon simply let you rut against his tongue, your arousal dripping down his throat. Your thighs shook around his face, spasming and trying your best to hold yourself upright as your release finally washed over you, goosebumps rising all over your body and a strained cry escaping your mouth.

You shakily crawled off Aegon’s face, seeing his mouth upturned in a boyish grin with your slick coating his lips and chin. “You did so good for me, love.” You kissed his forehead, trailing your lips down his face then neck. “I think you deserve a reward, hm?” You smirked, leering at his needy expression as you straddled his waist, ever so slightly grinding yourself on his cock, making him exhale sharply.

Lining up his cock with your entrance, you and Aegon moaned loudly as you slowly sunk down on him, your walls stretching strenuously in an attempt to accommodate his size, the slight sting making you whimper. Aegon threw his head back against your pillow with a sigh as you finally were able to take the last few inches of him, sitting comfortably until you started to leisurely rock your hips against him. You were in no hurry, knowing you had hours until he had to sneak back into his own chambers. You wanted to prolong this for as long as possible; you could already tell Aegon was starting to lose his patience, trying to buck his hips against you but you quickly placed your palms firmly on his chest to keep him from moving.

“Darling, please-”

“Shh.” You cooed, leaning down to kiss his plump lips, smoothing over the hair on his hair softly. “Just relax. We don’t need to hurry tonight.”

“I wanna come so bad…” He whined, eyes glazing over with tears, gracefully trailing down the sides of his face and creating a tiny puddle on your pillows.

“You are so incredibly pretty when you cry, my darling.” You smirked, lapping up his tears with your hot tongue, pulling away when he tried to kiss you. “You remember who’s in control here, right?” You asked sweetly, but keeping a dark glare in your eyes, admiring the way his bottom lip trembled.

Aegon let out a soft sob as you rocked your hips back and forth agonizingly slow, the cute noise sending a shock wave throughout your core. You didn’t even want to give him what he wanted anymore, all so you could hear those sweet sounds. But you were getting impatient as well, your pussy throbbing and desperately craving some friction. You both let out cries as you lifted yourself up and forcefully slammed back down on his cock, his eyes closed tightly and sucking air through his teeth. “Eyes on me.” You commanded, grabbing his jaw tightly. “Keep looking at me, love.” You spoke more lovingly, caressing the side of his face as you sped up and bounced on him in fervor.

“Feels so good.” He moaned, a quiet growl escaping his throat as he held onto your hips firmly, but it wasn’t quiet enough to escape your ears. You cursed as you started to feel another orgasm bubbling up inside of you, your walls clenching around him in a vice grip as the tip of his cock kept hitting that sweet spot in you. “Fuck—I’m so close. Gods, I need it so bad.” He begged, tightening his hold on you, afraid you’d deny him. But you needed another release as much as he needed his first one.

You let out a wanton moan as you didn’t hold back as you fucked Aegon hard, the sound of your skin slapping wetly against his echoing around the apartment, a blush dusting your face as your pussy made the most lewd noises. “You’re so beautiful.” Aegon whispered, looking up at you in awe. “You’re a goddess, my goddess.”

Your eyes threatened to roll to the back of your head as your orgasm washed over you, pure euphoria that made you dig your nails into Aegon’s pale chest and your toes curling tightly, not as tightly as your pulsing walls clenched around him. It lasted longer than you expected, a thin sheen of sweat coating your body as you held onto Aegon for dear life. You let out a breathy moan as you finally finished, an exhausted smile on your face. But Aegon hadn’t come yet, you ignored the overstimulation as you continued to bounce on his cum coated cock. “Are you going to come for your goddess?” You smirked, feeling his cock twitch inside you and watching his brows furrow as he let out a silent cry.

“My love, my love…” Aegon moaned, bucking up into you as fast as he humanly could, making you curse. “I’m gonna-” You quickly lifted yourself off of him, grinding your pussy on his shaft until he came with a low groan, spilling his seed onto his belly. You planted light kisses all over his face as he breathed heavily, smiling as you heard him chuckle.

“Was that okay?” You asked, gently pushing his hair out of his face.

“Of course, my love. I always enjoy you.” You felt quite proud of yourself as you laid down beside him, resting your head on his chest, sighing contently. He kissed the top of your head, breathing you in as he pulled you as close as possible. “You know how much I love you, right?” He asked suddenly, causing you to laugh.

“You’ve told me as such, in great detail, multiple times.”

“Good, just making sure.”

really in my "i can fix him" era

I've always wanted another Daniel fic from you dude, you write his characters so well😍

𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙯𝙫𝙤𝙪𝙨 | helmut zemo x reader

@radmerrmaid requested a drabble with zemo and enemies to lovers. what happened is a whole oneshot. don't ask me how.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: DUBCON SMUT, enemies to lovers/hate sex, rough sex including hair pulling, degradation and name calling, restraint, a slap, and overstimulation, touchstarved reader, unspecified age gap, very mild violence (hand-to-hand combat and a mention of a previous gunshot wound), kidnapping, soft!dark zemo?

"It must drive you crazy," he purred, wrapping his fingers carefully around the crystal glass before picking it up. "Seeing me like this."

He smirked around his sip of bourbon— at least you figured it was bourbon— as you tried to keep a poker face. You didn't like the idea of being seen as crazy at all, let alone because of him. "Like what?" you pressed instead of admitting to it.

"Free," he shrugged. "Out of that cage you worked so hard to keep me in."

"Getting you there was my job," you corrected with a frown. "If keeping you there was mine, too... you'd still be in it."

He laughed lightly, if briefly, and shook his head. "Still so prideful. You're young, and you have something to prove."

"I have nothing to prove to you," you asserted, shifting your weight on your hips— it was sort of uncomfortable to keep standing, but it felt wrong to take a seat even though he'd offered you one when you entered. It seemed like a sign of trust. Not that he should be surprised by you acting aloof, when he'd offered to meet you here without even explaining why.

"No, not to me," he agreed, setting the glass down again and taking one step closer to you. "To your friends at the CIA."

He seemed to emphasize every letter of the acronym, a playful condescension in his tone. "Friends is a funny way to say it," you rolled your eyes, "like I do what I do because I want to be popular, and not because I want to keep the world safe."

"Safe from me," he added, "the evil terrorist. Right?"

You ignored his question, not really wanting to dignify it with an answer— or start some spiel about how you don't really believe in evil people, just actions that merit punishment, bla bla bla...

"Yet, you couldn't keep yourself safe from me," he went on, raising one eyebrow as he examined you. "Or, you can't. Here you are— alone, as I asked."

Obviously, you had tried to imagine some way you could have back-up for this, even just tell someone where you were going. But this was Zemo's turf, and he had eyes and ears all over the city... he would know if you tried to turn this into a sting. Instead, you only hoped to gain some sort of information tonight that you could use to track him down when he tried to run again.

"You're more trusting than I suspected," he smirked, gaze darkening a bit. "Or, more desperate."

"Maybe the right word is 'curious'," you proposed. "Clearly, you have something to discuss with me."

"I do," he nodded. "A question to ask you-- one I feel only you can answer."

You waited for him to ask it, but even just the way he sucked in a sharp breath made you realize he was going to bore you with some preamble first— just like him, really..

"You see, after evading you so many times—"

"Narrowly," you interjected.

"Maybe some times," he shrugged, smiling, "other times, I think I had plenty of room. But that's besides the point... the point is, here I am. I've probably bested you for the last time—"

"That's not—"

"Ah ah, no interrupting, please," he scolded gently. "I know you know that if I can keep a low profile here, your organization has no hope of getting me back. I simply have too many resources, and your superiors know my risk is relatively low. No?"

Again, you refused to answer, but the way you crossed your arms tighter and glanced away seemed to serve as enough of an agreement.

"So that's it— I'm free. It should be so simple," he sighed. "So, why am I disappointed?"

You furrowed your brows, staring at him in confusion. You were waiting for him to say something to give context to that, but he didn't— he only waited for your response with an earnest look. "Why... are you asking me that?" you wondered.

"Because you're the person who knows me best."

You'd never thought of it like that, and it was such a jarring idea that you began to shake your head almost instantly. "No, that... that doesn't seem right..."

"I figured you would take pride in it," Zemo grinned. "You tracked me for years, studied me, learned my habits... I had to do the same to escape you. I must know you better than anyone else."

"That's ridiculous," you scoffed. "What are you trying to say?"

"I just hoped you could tell me why I feel this way— why I feel so wrong about never seeing you again."

Your chest tightened. You couldn't bear to meet his gaze; your stomach felt sick and strange and you just wanted to run out of there, but what good would that do? You needed him to tell you something you could use, one last chance to catch him before it was too late.

"If I didn't know you so well, and hate you so much," he went on, "I wouldn't have the energy to keep running. And me? I'm your biggest case. Sometimes you act like I'm your only case. What is it about me, that you need to win against me so badly?"

"It's not you," you insisted instantly, "it's me— it's who I am."

"Maybe that's how it started," he suggested, "but you can't spend so long hunting someone without becoming a little obsessed with them— trust me, I would know."

You grimaced at him. "You— you can't be serious."

"Who will you be without me to chase?" he pressed anyways, matching some of your anger as he stepped closer again— almost too close. "Without this... passion, between us?"

"Don't step any closer," you warned.

"Or what?" he challenged. "No weapons, no soldiers— it's just the two of us here."

He stepped up again, nearly pressed against you, and you couldn't let him get away with that... you had to prove you meant what you said. You weren't armed, and you knew he wasn't someone you wanted to go up against hand-to-hand... but at the same time, it was one thing you'd always secretly wished for. A chance to wage this war the way it should be, the way it had always been: personal.

You stepped back at the same time as you swung your fist, giving yourself just enough room to gain momentum— but you weren't quite fast enough, and he blocked you. From then on it was fast, instinctual: he was stronger but you were quicker, and on the offensive.

You never quite landed a hit, but neither did he— which felt like a good sign, until you realized he wasn't really giving it his all. Dodging and blocking, yes, but he wasn't trying to win, just keep you at bay.

"Come on!" you yelled in frustration as you finally got in a kick to his chest, forcing him to stumble back and nearly fall. "What are you doing, pitying me?"

"Hardly," he wheezed, a little affected by the hit, which made you smirk. "But I don't want to hurt you."

"Please," you rolled your eyes, putting your fists up and stabilizing your posture. "If we're going to do this, let's do it right."

He came at you, and finally, there it was... his real strength. That passion he'd been talking about, you could feel it.

Both of you were flushed and panting, exhilarated by the sport of it all. Unfortunately, right as you thought you'd found your moment— the weak spot in his form— it was a trap. When you moved in closer, he grabbed you and spun you around, holding your back against his chest so tight that you struggled to breathe.

But he didn't shove you down, didn't put you in a chokehold, didn't even threaten you or gloat about pinning you. Instead, he only held you tighter, and soothed you with a gentle 'shh' in your ear when you tried to squirm out of his grasp.

"Wh-what are you doing?" you whispered, your whole body shaking as he ran his tongue up your neck.

"If it's curiosity that brought you here," he purred in response, "I can satisfy that."

"You can't be fffucking serious," you hissed, though a moan tainted your words as one of his hands ran down your body, the other still effortlessly holding you still.

"I know you so well," he went on, a deep growl in his voice as your eyes fell shut. "I know how lonely you must be. That's one of the things we share."

His hand was heavy and warm against your leg, even through your pants— and it was moving higher, petting your inner thigh as you shivered.  Though your mind longed to resist him, your body was desperate for any affection; because he was right, you were lonely.  You couldn’t think of the last time someone had touched you like this, and yet you remembered it didn’t usually feel this good.  His touch was precise and careful and teasing— not too awkward but not too cocky.  And the heat of him wrapped around you, his hot breath on your shoulder, his wider form encompassing you… how could it feel so good?

“And I know you’ve thought about this,” he added.  “That’s something we share, too.”

He couldn’t know that— he might be rich and resourceful, but he wasn’t omniscient.  If you were any more logical in that moment, you would’ve realized he was just guessing and denied it.  But his teeth brushing over your pulse didn’t exactly provoke your critical thinking skills.  “Fuck, I— fuck,” you choked out instead, shuddering when he chuckled proudly.

“You might hate me, draga, but you need me,” he explained.  “Your mind needs me, just as much as your body does.”

Something about the way his fingers traced up your side, teasing your breast before pulling away right before getting to anything too exciting… it seemed to bring you back to reality, at least partially.  You absolutely couldn’t do this— you couldn’t let him do this.  “G-get off me,” you choked out, struggling against him again.

“That’s what you want?” he taunted.

“Get the fuck off me!” you yelped.

“Make me,” he challenged.

Bringing your foot down hard on top of his, he winced and you managed to break away, spinning around and shoving him back— he actually lost his balance that time, falling to the floor.  You were ready to deliver a firm and swift kick between his legs, but rolled over and grabbed your leg while it was up, bringing you down to the floor with him.

He laughed breathlessly, sounding a little frustrated, as you flailed for purchase against the floor— only for him to grab your wrists and pin you down, positioning himself over you with a grin.  His hair was shaken out of its style, hanging around his face which was flushed from exertion.  “You keep me on my toes, I’ll give you that,” he offered.  You tried to writhe again but he had you properly trapped now, with absolutely no way out.

“You wouldn’t,” you sneered incredulously.

“Wouldn’t what, dear?”

“You wouldn’t force yourself on me,” you completed.

He seemed a little surprised, hanging his head and shaking it.  “Oh,” he breathed, “no, I wouldn’t.”

A little relieved, you started to catch your breath.

“I don’t need to.”

He brought his lips down to yours suddenly— the collision was almost too rough, and yet it was the only thing that made sense for the two of you.  You groaned in protest yet submitted instantly, opening your mouth wide for his desperate and dominating kiss.

Your back arched up off the floor, and his weight seemed to sink down on top of you in response.  Though you hated yourself for it, you spread your legs a bit, just enough for him to rest his hips between— and fuck, you could feel it.  The hard, throbbing heat, you could feel it pressed against you and the most horrible moan was nearly lost to his lips.

He hummed back proudly, running his hands over your body, kissing you faster.

You were gasping for breath when he broke away, which only worsened when he latched onto your neck.  “God, I hate you,” you blurted out, just to remind you both that if this was going to happen, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“You hate me for all those times I embarrassed you?” he assumed, hands holding your waist and starting to slide up your shirt.  “For when I eluded you, wasted your time, made a fool of you?”

“And that time you shot me.”

“I winged you,” he corrected— like that was any better.

He tugged your shirt up and you raised your arms, letting him slip it off; he spotted the scar right away, a line across your arm just under your shoulder.  He cooed for a second before kissing it softly— too gentle a moment for you to let lie.  You shoved his jacket back next, helping him slip it off his shoulders before pulling him down to kiss you again.

Your sports bra had a clasp in the front, it was a bit unique in that way, yet he had no trouble with it.  Freeing your chest, he of course had to tease you a bit more— instead of groping your waiting breasts right away, he guided your arms down from where they held onto the back of his neck, lifting you up from the floor a bit so you could slide the garment off and toss it away.  

When you laid back down, the floor was cold, but the hiss you let out was more a response to him rocking his hips against you, teasing you through these stupid remaining clothes.  “You know why I hate you?” he returned as he started to unbutton your pants, even though you’d entirely forgotten that last part of the conversation.

Before he answered the question, he yanked your pants and underwear down to your thighs— and swiftly got his own out of the way.  Your heart raced; you weren’t totally convinced this was really happening, not until he pushed into you in one painfully sudden thrust.  You cried out, yet he took no mercy on you.  He was ruthless, in fact.

Choking on your broken cries, you arched up off the floor again as he hammered into you, rage and relief and desperation evident in every movement.  He had to hold your legs tightly just to keep you from sliding across the floor, which only ensured you took every stroke as deep as it could go— which was already too fucking deep.

“Say it,” he ordered, “tell me why I hate you.”

“I caught you,” you said— but you knew that would just make him angrier.  Maybe that was kind of the idea.

Stopping just long enough to tug your pants the rest of the way off— and leaving you naked while he was still mostly dressed— he descended over you and looked right at you, far too close, with a rageful stare.

“You trapped me,” he corrected gruffly.  “You played dirty.”

Before you had a chance to retort that all’s fair in love and war, he started to pound into you… harder and meaner than ever.  You didn’t surprise yourself by crying out, considering how intense and nearly painful the feeling was, but you were a little confused that the word you said was a needy yes!

"Those years in prison," he snarled, "you could barely call it living, life in that place— you put me there. I thought every day about how you put me there."

He yanked your hair, making you whine loudly and exposing your neck for his lips and teeth to explore freely.  

Finally, a hand latched onto your chest— a hot palm encompassing your breast and skilled fingers pinching lightly at your nipple.  You couldn’t believe how composed he was through all this— in many ways, he wasn’t, but he seemed to be deliberate with every way he touched you and that was far more togetherness than you had.

You weren’t together at all, actually… something about the heat of the moment, the way your body responded to him, the way he glared at you… you could already feel tension building inside you.  It wouldn’t be long, not if he kept going like this.

“I thought about you every fucking day, draga— that you were free, and I was trapped in that cell,” he growled.  “You missed it, didn’t you?  Chasing me.”

When you didn’t answer, he struck you across the face with the back of his hand; the shock of it made your walls clench on him, or at least you could blame it on that, but you had no way to explain the way you moaned a moment later.

He moved even faster, a sickening wet sound echoing through the room which you hated to acknowledge was your own body.  “The worse I am to you, the wetter you get,” he noticed, smiling for just a moment.  “What a filthy whore you are.”

“F-fuck you,” you stammered roughly.

“Actually, why don’t you?” he offered, grabbing you by the hips and rolling both of you over until he was on his back and you were straddling him.  “Show me how bad you need it.”

As much as you wanted to not do what he told you, your hips were already moving— your body was on its own mission now, desperate for pleasure and friction and heat.  Desperate for anything he would give.  You whimpered as you grinded down on him, feeling his cock go so much deeper than you imagined was possible.  “God,” you sobbed, tossing your head back and trying not to picture the way he must have been looking at you then.

His hands moved all over you, up your thighs and over your breasts, even wrapping around your neck once though they didn’t put on enough pressure to really choke you.  “Pretty girl,” he praised darkly, making chills dance over your skin.

But when his hands settled on your hips, trying to guide you the way he wanted, you’d had enough; you grabbed him at the wrists and leaned forward, pinning his hands beside his head.  He smirked up at you at first, but when you bounced your hips up and down while hovering over him, his eyes fell shut and he let out a deep groan.  “I’m close,” you panted sharply.

“You can make yourself come like this?” he realized, sounding a little impressed.  He opened his eyes and lifted his head for a moment to get a better look at you, before almost instantly giving up again and dropping his head back to the floor with a moan.  “Fine, take it— just take what you need, draga.”

You held tighter to his wrists, mostly to keep yourself stable, and you felt his own hands ball into fists as you bounced faster.  “Oh god, oh god, oh god— yes!” you yelped, legs quivering as it struck you.  It seemed to come and go so quickly, perhaps because your strength gave out halfway through and you felt weak and paralyzed.  It had been ages since you’d felt pleasure like that… actually you weren’t sure you’d ever felt pleasure like that, at least not so much all at once.

If only he were satisfied by that.  With your grip weakened, he easily pulled his hands away to wrap his arms around you, holding you tightly and bucking his hips up into you rapidly.

“Fuck, wait, s-slow down,” you panted, whining weakly as he shook his head against the crook of your neck.

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” he purred.  “I won’t be able to slow down at all until you’re full of come, draga.  I want you dripping.”

You were all numb and limp now, so raw and sensitive inside— he put you on your back again and didn’t struggle at all to pull another orgasm from you.  The third, though, was a little more hard fought: he rubbed your clit with an almost painful amount of pressure, watching through dark eyes and with a sneering grin as you screamed and shivered.

“Not too loud, darling,” he warned, “the people in the streets might hear you, the window’s still open—”

“Fuck!” you shouted, high-pitched and shaky, and he covered your mouth with his other hand as he laid on you with a growl.

“Just one more, then I’ll fill you,” he promised.  “I only need to feel you come one more time.  You want a rest, don’t you?”

You nodded weakly, biting down on your shaking lip.

“Then give me what I want.”

Your final cry was stuttered and helpless, every final ounce of energy in your body being taken from you by the final forced peak of ecstasy.  But it wasn’t until you sighed out his name, barely audible under your breath, that he groaned against your neck and pumped himself deep inside you— every drop, leaving you full to the brim and then some.  

You didn’t even have the strength to hold onto him, but he held you far too tightly as if to make up for it, and didn’t let you go for quite some time.

It had only gotten darker and colder out, and the draft through the window eventually danced over your sweat-slickened skin.  When you shivered under him, Helmut lazily reached up to the couch nearby, pulling a throw blanket off of it and wrapping you both up in its soft embrace.  You sighed with relief from both the cold air and the hard floor, not even realizing you were falling asleep. 

Even when you woke up, you didn’t really notice that you’d been asleep— except that Helmut was gone, and the fireplace was going.  Sitting up as little as you could get away with to look for him— since moving at all was quite a task given how tired you were— you heard him coming around the corner and turned back to look at him.

He was in a robe now, and carrying two crystal glasses of water.  He smiled at you as he sat back down on the floor, laying beside you on the blanket and handing you your glass.  “Figured you would need this soon enough,” he explained with a soft voice as you sipped carefully at the water.  You weren’t really ready to talk to him yet, but you wanted to thank him for the water, so you just nodded and hoped that would get the point across.

The silence was probably only awkward for you— he seemed totally at peace, getting through most of his drink before setting it down on the floor and cuddling up to you again with a contented sigh.

You quietly drank the water, staring forward at the crackling fire, hardly believing where you were.  It actually sounded sort of romantic on paper: a dashing and wealthy older man, a penthouse apartment in a foreign city, a fire, a blanket, a crystal glass…

If it weren’t for the wanted terrorist, it might make for a good little fantasy.

Yet, you set your glass aside and laid back down with him.  He slipped an arm around you, holding your shoulder and petting it with his thumb, even kissing the side of your forehead sweetly.  “I don’t understand how you can… be like that,” you whispered, glancing down at his arm crossed over your chest.

“Not everyone is so afraid of their feelings as you are,” he countered, and you snorted a little.

“I’m not afraid of my feelings,” you denied half-heartedly.

“You’re afraid of me, then?” he wondered.

“Not… quite…” you murmured your answer, not even sure yourself what you felt.  “I mean, I drank the water, so—”

“I wondered if you would,” he laughed, “but I’m glad you did.”

“I mean, only half the glass, technically,” you noticed.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’ve had enough,” he shrugged.

“Enough?” you chuckled.  “After that, half a glass of water is hardly enough.  I won’t be recovered until I have a protein-heavy meal and probably a couple painkillers— if I wanna, you know, sit or jog or whatever in the next few days.”

“I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment,” he chuckled, “but I didn’t mean enough to recuperate.  I meant enough for you to sleep until we get there.”

“...what?” you asked, turning over your shoulder with knitted brows to look at him.

“If even you know where you’re going, you might find a way to get out is all,” he explained flippantly.

“What… what are you…?” you started, shaking your head— but it didn’t shake off that funny feeling, that heaviness in your head.

“You see, I did think about you every day in my cell,” he went on, “and I thought about how, someday, I would lock you away— so you’d know how it feels, to be a prisoner.”

Whimpering as realization dawned, you sat up quickly to try to fight whatever was in that water… but it only seemed to make it worse, spots forming in your vision like when you stand up too fast— except they didn’t fade, just multiplied.

“I’ll treat you much better than I was, though,” he assured, “in fact, I think you’ll be better off than you were before… you’ll be mine, draga.  No one else will ever see you again.”

You tried to speak but it wasn’t really coming together— you tried to push him away but you only limply held onto him, looking up at his eerily blank expression with your fading vision.  As it all turned to black, he caught your head before it hit the floor, cradling it rather tenderly before kissing your cheek.

“Now,” he whispered to you, though you couldn’t possibly hear it, “let’s get you cleaned up— the plane is waiting to take you to our new home.”

Hey, i'm not like, dead lmao. I know I haven't posted anything in foreverrrrrr it feels like, or written anything either really. I adore fanfiction and it's really helped me get some things out and helped me not be so lonely in the past, but I think I'm gonna take an indefinite break.

I found someone who really makes me happy and makes me feel like I'm living in an actual fanfiction, so I haven't felt the need or desire to write anymore haha. I'm still gonna be active on here and stuff, just not gonna post any more stories for now.

Thank you to anyone who's engaged with or supported my works, I appreciate ya💕

AHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE IT

"Niflheim" - Orpheus!Osferth x Eurydice!Reader

a/n: request from @ultraintrovertedgryffindor for orpheus!osferth combined with a request from @connorsui for osferth x childhood friend/princess reader ❤️

Summary: Osferth and you are childhood sweethearts, torn away from each other by circumstance. But this time, Osferth takes fate into his own hands.

Word Count: 5,205

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, character death, mentions of severe illness, p in v sex, fingering, breeding kink

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the The Last Kingdom characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️

You and Osferth were never meant to meet. He is the bastard son of a king, his father’s secret shame, sent away to become a monk in Mercia. You, on the other hand, are a princess, the daughter of King Æthelwulf and younger sister of Prince Æthelred. The monastery’s gardens border those of the castle’s, however, and one day Osferth hears the sweetest voice, singing a little tune. Six years old at the time, he follows the voice, curious as to what he will find.

“Lavender’s green, dilly dilly, lavender’s blue. You must love me, dilly dilly, for I love you.”

Osferth approaches you hesitantly, blue eyes wide with wonder as he listens to you sing, captivated by your voice and presence. You hear a twig snap and jump up, grabbing the wooden sword by your side, waving it in front of you. You seem to be around his age, he thinks,  an inch or two shorter than him at most. He is slightly frightened by the sudden movement of your sword, your demand to know who’s there, but he realizes by the little crown on your head that you are the princess. He bows quickly, giving you a shy smile.

You frown at the strange boy, crossing your arms expectantly, “Why are you doing that? And why are you wearing those robes?”

He clears his throat nervously before speaking, “My name is Osferth. I… This is the uniform of my order of monks.”

Osferth feels rather self-conscious as you eye him up and down before you shake your head and declare, “You’re a little boy. You can’t be a monk. They’re all old and fat.’

He is surprised by your words but quickly explains, “Oh, well I am only a monk in name. Really, I work for the older monks. Carrying heavy things, preparing things.”

“Oh,” you say, eyes going wide in recognition, “I suppose I am only a princess in name. My brother gets to do all the fun things.”

Osferth chuckles slightly at your response, taking a seat beside you on the bench when you pat the spot next to you, “What kind of fun things do you want to do that you are not allowed?”

“I want to ride my horse and fight Danes,” you state boldly, without any hesitation.

Osferth looks at you intently, impressed by your spirit, “You sound like a warrior! Have you ridden a horse already?”

“No,” you frown sadly, the sight making his chest ache for some reason not quite yet known to him, “They say I am too small. Have you, Osferth?”

He nods proudly, puffing out his chest in an effort to impress you, “Yes, I have indeed, Princess. It is an incredible feeling, sitting up there.”

“Wow,” you breathe, gazing at him starry-eyed, Osferth’s cheeks flushing at the way you look at him, “That is amazing! A warrior monk!”

He shakes his head, grinning and scratching the back of his neck, “I suppose being a little brave is necessary to defend God’s kingdom.”

You nod before asking him, “How old are you?”

“I am nearly seven,” he tells you happily, eyeing the doll and wooden sword you clutch to your chest, “How old are you?”

“I am six and a half,” you say proudly, “My brother is the prince of Mercia and one day he will be king,” you pause before adding, knitting your brows together, “But not today, because Papa is still alive.”

Osferth stares at you in awe. Your life is so different to his. You are so much more important than him, one of the most important people in the country, and you are not even seven years old. He smiles at the doll you hold to your chest, pointing toward it.

“And what is your doll’s name, my lady? Is she a princess as well?”

You shake your head vehemently, “Absolutely not! She is a knight!”

Osferth smirks slightly before laughing, “I apologize. I did not mean to assume. Can I ask her name? If she is a knight, surely she must have an impressive name.”

“Her name is Lagertha,” you inform him, hugging the doll tightly.

He smiles at you, finding you entirely fascinating, “And your sword? Who is that for?”

“Me! Who else would it be for?”

Osferth laughs again under his breath, “But who are you going to fight, Lady?”

“Everyone!”

He stares at you with amused surprise, “Everyone, you say? That is a lot of work. What if someone manages to take your sword away from you? What will you do then?”

“Then I’ll use my hands!”

Osferth grins as you ball your hands into fists, punching the air. You are a very determined and brave girl, with great confidence in yourself. He watches as you calm yourself and sit down, telling him your name.

“I do not have many friends,” you say sadly, looking up at him with your sweet, innocent eyes.

His heart breaks for you, how lonely you must be, just as he is, “I am sorry, Princess. Would you like me to be your friend?”

He is taken by surprise when you throw your arms around him and embrace him, tackling him to the ground in your enthusiasm, “You are my best friend now, alright?”

Osferth hugs you back just as tightly and nods, “You are my best friend too, Princess.”

The two of you grow up together, growing closer and closer as the years go by. When you are both twelve years old, on an afternoon like any other, you go to have your lunch with Osferth in the gardens. You turn to him, a curious expression on your face.

“Osferth? Can I ask you something?”

He looks at you, nodding, “Of course. Anything.”

You glance around, making sure you two are completely alone before whispering, “Is King Alfred your father? Æthelred told me as much but I wanted to know the truth from you.”

Osferth is caught off guard by your question, expression turning somber as he nods, “He is. I am a bastard. He sent me here to be in the care of the monks.”

He’s surprised at the angered expression on your face, “Why will he not care for you? Fathers are meant to care for their children! What a horrid man!”

He stares at you intensely, expression remaining morose. You are right. A parent is meant to care for their child. He feels angry at the thought that his father does not accept him, that he shows no interest in his existence.

“He did not want an illegitimate child. He told my mother that I was the Devil’s spawn and the result of their weakness.”

You scoff, “That makes him the Devil then. What an idiot.”

Osferth bursts into laughter at your words, “You are right. As always, Princess. How can I argue with the smartest lady in England?”

“You cannot. You are the farthest thing from a Devil spawn,” you say, eating your lunch, “And King Alfred is stupid. I heard he shits blood.”

Osferth chokes on his water, wiping his mouth before bursting into laughter again, “Who told you that? That may count as treason, Princess!”

“Æthelred told me,” you say smugly, “He knows everything about everyone. And it cannot be treason if it is true.” Osferth smiles gently as you continue to eat, listening as you chatter away, “Anyway, I think you would make a better prince than Edward ever would. He is rather annoying. Æthelred says I will have to marry him one day. I would rather become a nun.”

Osferth snickers, “You can come and live with me at the monastery. I will be your personal monk and take care of you. But,” he grins, “I do not think you really want to be a nun. You are too bold for that. You will be an Empress.”

You smile brightly, “If I am an Empress, I will marry you and you will be the Emperor. We will ride our horses into battle together.”

Osferth’s ears go red at the thought of marrying you. He has never thought of marriage or anything of the sort, being a monk, but you are so pretty and your body is so warm next to his that he cannot help but think it would be wonderful to marry you. 

And he notices for the first time how your eyes seem to sparkle in the afternoon sun.

By the time the two of you are sixteen, Osferth is fully aware of the depth of his feelings for you. He watches as you run over to him, looking beautiful as ever, eyes dancing with excitement as you yell his name.

“Osferth, you will never believe who I met!”

He leans against the wall and looks at you with interest, “Who?”

“Lord Uhtred,” you whisper, “He is back!”

Osferth’s eyes go wide with surprise, “You did? Where is he? Where did you meet him? It must have been very exciting!”

“He came to the castle to give my brother and Æthelflæd his congratulations on their wedding. Oh, Osferth, you should have seen him, he is just as impressive as everyone says!” You pause before wrinkling your nose, “He is a bit old though.”

Osferth grins at your comment, “Well, he is indeed a bit older than us, but that means he is more experienced in battle.”

You hum, acknowledging his words before continuing to ramble, “I met his men too. An Irishman named Finan and a Dane named Sihtric. They were both quite handsome, especially the Dane.” Osferth bites back the jealousy gnawing away at him as you continue speaking, “Oh, but it was awful, Osferth, Sihtric barely even looked at me! He just stared at the floor. I even plaited my hair!”

Osferth laughs slightly at how serious you seem, “Perhaps he thought you were too pretty and could not look you in the eyes because he felt so shy.”

“Does that mean you think I’m ugly? You always look me in the eyes,” you retort sassily.

He smiles at you warmly, “Of course I do not think you are ugly. I like looking at you. And your lovely plaited hair.”

You giggle as he moves closer, doing a little twirl to show off your hairstyle, “Do you like it? Æthelflæd weaved some flowers into it,” you pause before grumbling, “Not that Sihtric cared.”

“You look beautiful,” Osferth mumbles, almost shyly, “Perhaps this Sihtric did not know enough about flower weaving to notice your hair. He is probably thinking about how to win a battle or things like that.”

“I quite prefer men like you who notice my hair,” you grouse, “A lady’s hair is very important to her.”

Osferth nods, biting back a smile as he asks, “Would you like to know something you have that I very much like about you, Princess?” You nod eagerly, and he clears his throat, face going red as he speaks, “I like your smile very much. Your eyes seem to shine when you smile and your voice becomes even more lovely.” He pauses, lowering his voice, “Would you smile for me? Would you make your Emperor happy?”

You laugh at him, completely delighted, “I cannot believe you still remember that! Emperor and Empress. We were only children.”

Osferth’s heart warms at seeing your beautiful smile and he laughs in return, “It was a long time ago, yes, but I cherish that memory.” He takes your hand in his, your soft skin brushing against his, gazing into each other’s eyes as he whispers, “You have been my best friend for years, and yet, I find myself craving more.”

You bite your lip, barely able to hold back your giddy smile at his words before you ask, “Do you want to kiss me, my sweet Emperor?”

Osferth feels his breath quicken but responds with a nod, his breath catching in his throat, “I would like that very much, my beautiful Empress.”

He waits with bated breath as you stand on your toes, gently pressing your lips to his in the sweetest, most chaste of kisses. His heart beats like a drum in his chest as he kisses you back, hands cupping your face tenderly. You only pull apart when you hear one of your ladies in waiting calling you back in for supper. You give Osferth a kiss on the cheek before sprinting back to the castle.

A few days later, you are taken entirely by surprise when Osferth tells you that he is leaving with Lord Uhtred, intent on accompanying him on his adventures.

“W-what?” you ask, voice quivering ever so slightly.

He nods, averting his gaze, “Yes… There is no place for me anywhere, Princess. If I do this, I will have a chance to make a name for myself. To be more than the king’s bastard son. I need to change my destiny. To see what life is like outside of these monastery walls.”

You stare at him before nodding slowly, “Well, goodbye then,” you say, pulling away from him and crossing your arms.

Osferth’s expression grows sad as he rests a hand on your shoulder, worried that you are upset with him, “Goodbye? Is that all you have to say to me? I have been your best friend all this time and you do not even look sad that I am leaving…” His voice cracks slightly as he questions, “Do you not care about me? The way you refuse to look at me makes me feel guilty, as if I have done something wrong.”

“I do not mean to make you feel guilty Osferth,” you say, turning away and turning your nose up, “Do as you like. When you return, you shall likely find me a married woman.”

Osferth is surprised at how quickly the mood between the two of you has changed. His stare is intense and he pauses before speaking.

“A married woman?” Osferth questions, both confused and jealous, “Please tell me… To whom will you be married, Princess?”

“Prince Edward, your half-brother,” you inform him primly, “The king and my brother both desire the match. And since you will not even be here, I have no reason to resist their wishes any longer.”

Osferth watches as you stride off, frozen in place for a moment before he takes off running after you. You are supposed to be his Empress, not his brother’s wife!

“I cannot believe you would marry Prince Edward! He does not deserve you! He is not worthy of your smile, your laugh, your love. You cannot marry him!” Osferth declares passionately.

You frown, “You ought to leave. I am sure Lord Uhtred is waiting for you.”

Your words sting and he swallows back the tears that threaten to spill, “I do not want Edward to get your beautiful smile. It is mine. You are my Empress…”

“Just go, Osferth,” you say, looking at him sadly, “Go on your adventures and leave me in peace. Do not write to me and do not expect to find me waiting for you.”

He watches you run back into the castle, covering your face and letting out a heartbreaking sob. Osferth sinks to his knees, feeling completely heartbroken and utterly lost.

Several years later, when you and Osferth are both grown, twenty years of age, he returns to you. He left a pretty girl behind, but now he finds you a grown woman, more beautiful than any creature he has ever seen in his life, more beautiful than he remembered you in his dreams. You greet him, Uhtred, Sihtric, and Finan with a kind smile.

“My lords.”

He feels his cheeks flush as he admires you, seeing that you are standing beside his half-brother as his betrothed, a sharp pang in his chest at the sight. He stares at you intently, breath catching in his throat when you speak to him.

“You are much taller than I remember, Osferth.”

His eyes light up at your smile and it is difficult to keep his composure. He has to remind himself he cannot talk to you the way he used to, that you are a lady betrothed now. He must be respectful.

“Thank you, Princess.”

You excuse yourself from the room, giving Osferth a meaningful look, communicating without words that you wish for him to follow you. He does so without hesitation, finding himself in the gardens where you two met all those years ago. He admires the sight of you on that bench, where he first spoke to you, moving to sit beside you.

“This place will always be special to me.”

“To me as well,” you smile at him.

Osferth inhales sharply before cutting to the chase and asking, “Are you really marrying my brother?”

You sigh before replying, “I am supposed to.”

Osferth swallows thickly, “You… Why?”

“I am a princess. He is a prince,” you say quietly, averting your gaze, “It has all been arranged. A way to further strengthen the ties between the kingdoms.”

Osferth shakes his head angrily, “You should be able to marry the man you choose. Not one who was chosen for you by your arseling brother. Surely you can refuse?”

You look at him, your lashes fluttering as you speak, “In an ideal world… I would be yours.”

“And in this cruel reality?” Osferth whispers, desperation in his eyes as he pulls you into his arms, “Will you run away with me?”

Your eyes go wide in surprise, “W-what?”

“Run away with me,” he says, shocked at his own words before realizing this could be his last chance, “Leave this castle, the court. Be with me. Be free.”

It is a crazy idea. He knows this. But you have never once seemed satisfied with this life, with your decisions being made for you.

“But what of your plans to become a monk?”

“I do not want to be a monk. It was chosen for me. What I choose is you. I will always choose you,” Osferth says, confidence growing, “I would take you to Coccham. We would marry. We would have children. Everything we ever wanted. My Empress, I…” He looks you in the eyes, taking your face in his hands, “I love you. I do not have much, but I love you. And I will make you happy, I swear it.”

He knows his words may seem naive, but they are true. You look up at him, smiling sweetly.

“Kiss me again. Like you did all those years ago,” you request softly.

Osferth does not hesitate, his arms wrapping around your waist as he presses his lips to yours, submitting to his desire for you. The kiss is passionate and loving, an affirmation of the way the two of you feel about each other, bound by the love you have always shared and always will.

“I will go to Coccham with you,” you whisper when the two of you part, “I will marry you. How could I not?”

You take to the road with Osferth, Uhtred, and the others that very night, packing a small bag of your belongings and ready to begin your new life with your love. Uhtred has watched you grow into a young woman before his eyes and feels an almost fatherly sort of affection for you as he watches you and Osferth, Finan and Sihtric teasing you as brothers would.

You ride for several days, but you take ill on the road, a horrible fever overtaking you. By the time you reach Coccham, you need to be carried to bed by Osferth. He lays you down gently as Uhtred’s wife, Gisela, rushes to get blankets to warm you. Osferth’s hand rests on your face and he kisses your feverish brow, wanting to soothe your pain. He hears you cough, a terrifying rattling sound that shakes him to his core. He prepares hot tea for you every day, reading to you from the Bible, some of your favorite Psalms to soothe you. Uhtred suggests that they take you back to Winchester, that perhaps the healers there may be of more help, but Osferth knows you would never survive the journey.

You hold his hand weakly, coughing hard, “Osferth, I…”

He looks at you, his heart in his throat as he kneels by your bedside, “My love? What is it?”

Osferth cradles your face in his hands, watching as your eyes shut and you breathe your last. He shakes his head frantically.

“No… No… My love, no!”

He holds your face in his hands, gently shaking you awake, growing more and more frantic as he screams for help, kissing your cheeks, your lips, feeling that your body has already begun to grow cold. He cannot bear the thought of losing you, his true love.

After a while, Finan points out the obvious, tears in his eyes. That you will need a proper burial. Osferth bursts into tears, sobbing hysterically and shaking his head.

“Come back to me, please!”

He holds your body close, refusing to let anyone near you, begging you not to leave him.

And that is when Sihtric offers a solution. Unorthodox, yes. Blasphemous, certainly. He suggests that, if Osferth is willing to pledge fealty to the Norse gods, that he may be able to convince Loki and his wife, Sigyn, to return you from Niflheim to the land of the living. Osferth nods fervently, immediately agreeing to the idea. He will give anything in the world if it means that you will wake. He will risk everything.

The journey to the gate between Midgard and Niflheim is far, and the road is treacherous. But Osferth braves it. He travels to the ends of the earth, refusing to give up on his quest to get you back. It takes days, weeks, maybe even months before he reaches the realm of Loki. Time has ceased to have meaning ever since your death.

Osferth reaches Loki and Sigyn’s throne room, dark but beautiful, prostrating himself at the gods’ feet, begging for mercy. Begging for you.

“Ask me your favor, mortal,” comes Loki’s silvery voice.

Osferth gazes up at him and Sigyn before speaking, “I ask you to return my love to the land of the living. She has died before her due time and I will give anything to have her back.”

Loki chuckles, shaking his head, “Your lady is one of the dead now, mortal. One of my servants. Why would I ever return her?”

Osferth looks down at the ground, his jaw setting in determination before he meets the god’s gaze once more without fear, seemingly impressing the deity, “I love her. More than anything in the world. I know I can make her happy. I will pay any price to have her back.”

Before Loki can refuse, he sees that Sigyn is moved by Osferth’s declarations of love. She fixes her husband with a sharp glare and Loki lets out a sigh before turning to Osferth.

“I will send your lady up after you, through the Niflheim gate. But,” he warns, “You must not look back at her until you have crossed back into Midgard. If you do not trust me and look back to see if she is there, she will be lost to you forever.”

Osferth nods in agreement, bowing again and accepting Loki’s terms. He takes a deep breath and turns to begin the arduous journey back to Midgard, wanting nothing more than to see you again, to hold you in his arms and kiss you.

As he walks, he hears your voice calling to him and smiles, nearly turning to face you before remembering Loki’s words. Your cries grow more desperate.

“Osferth, help me…”

His face goes pale. Everything in his body screams at him to turn around and save you, but he remains steadfast. He keeps moving forward, not looking back, his body trembling at hearing the sound of you in pain and suffering.

“Osferth, please…”

He hears you let out that low, rattling cough. The one you did just before you died. He feels tears pool in his eyes, mouth going dry, but he continues.

“I will make it. I can make it.”

The cries fade and a voice sobs as if in pain, but still he walks. He walks and walks until he reaches Midgard, hearing the Niflheim gate close behind him. He immediately turns to look now that he has held up his end of the deal, but you? You are nowhere to be found. His face twists in despair. Has this all been some cruel trick? Did Loki play him like a fool, dangling his dream of a future with you before his eyes and snatching it away? He is ready to go back for you once more but he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He turns around slowly, seeing you, your face glowing with visible happiness as you greet him, “My Emperor.”

“My love,” Osferth whispers in shock before pulling you into his arms, embracing you tightly. His lips find yours, desperate and passionate to confirm that you are here, standing beside him.

You giggle as he spins you around, peppering kisses all over your face, “Osferth, put me down!”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “No, I missed you so much. I thought you were lost to me forever.” He sets you down, resting his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes, “I love you. I love you, I love you.”

Osferth kisses you once more, hearing you murmur, “I love you so much. I want to marry you, have a family with you, grow old with you.”

He nods in agreement, smiling at you, “Let us marry. As soon as Lord Uhtred allows us to do so. I cannot imagine life without you.”

When the two of you reach Coccham, you let out a yelp of surprise when Uhtred, Finan, and Sihtric race to shower you in brotherly hugs, Gisela coming to you as well to kiss your brow and embrace you tightly, “Perhaps I shall try dying more often…”

Osferth smiles at how everyone greets you, with so much love. It warms his heart. Uhtred immediately announces that he will begin preparations for the marriage, that the two of you need not worry about a thing, that he and Gisela will take care of absolutely everything. Sihtric suggests that the two of you go somewhere special to celebrate your reunion, giving Osferth a knowing smirk. Osferth blushes and nods, taking you by the hand.

It is a long ride, but you two do not care as you reach that very garden where you met all those years ago. You sit on that same bench, your head resting on his shoulder as you watch the sun begin to set, the sky coming alive with its pink and yellow hues.

“I remember the day we first spoke here. All those years ago,” you sigh.”

Osferth presses a kiss to your forehead, smiling softly, “Destiny brought us together. We have always belonged to each other from the moment we met. It is you and me, forever and always.”

“Forever and always, my Emperor,” you agree, kissing his cheek and letting your lips linger against his skin before you tease, “Osferth… Must we wait for the wedding night to…” You trail off suggestively, giving him a cheeky smile, “Enjoy each other?”

Osferth thinks for a moment, blushing before he breaks into a wide smile, “No, I do not wish to wait a moment longer.”

You giggle, throwing your arms around him and tackling him to the ground in your enthusiasm, much as you did the first time you met, “My Emperor.”

“My Empress,” Osferth whispers as you kiss him passionately, “I need you. I need you so badly, my love.”

You make quick work of his robes, tossing them aside, the moon now rising in the sky, illuminating his pale skin. You kiss every freckle, every inch of exposed skin before taking his cock into your mouth, gazing into those blue eyes of his all the while, admiring how handsome he looks as his face twists in pleasure. You hollow your cheeks, cupping his stones as you bring your beloved closer and closer to his peak, nearly choking on his length before he pulls you close to him, shaking his head.

“I… I wish to spill myself inside you,” he whispers, almost shyly.

You nod, grinding your hips against his thigh, wetness pooling between your thighs.  Osferth practically rips your dress from your body, desperate to see you in all your splendor. The moonlight makes you look almost ethereal, bare before him in this garden, your place. His hand snakes between your thighs, slowly stroking your cunt, gasping at how wet you already are. He gently pushes two fingers inside of you, grinning at the gasp you let out, pumping them slowly, loving the subtle bounce of your breasts as you grind your hips down against his hand.

He feels you squeeze tight around him, reaching your peak with a gasp of his name. And when the two of you join your bodies, he gazes up at you in wonder as you sink down onto his cock. You let out a soft moan, just staying there for a long moment. The two of you gaze into each other’s eyes before your lips meet in a tender yet passionate kiss. You begin rolling your hips against his while Osferth’s hands grasp at your arse, squeezing your flesh, kneading it between his hands.

“I can’t wait to see you with child,” he admits, “Your belly round. Everyone will know that you are mine. My Empress. My love.”

“Yes, my Emperor,” you murmur, mewling as his cockhead brushes against your sweet spot, “Oh, Osferth…”

“I feel close, my love, let me spill myself inside of you,” he pleads.

You nod, squeezing around him tighter than you thought possible, his hips bucking up wildly against yours, admiring you as your face twists in ecstasy. You feel his fingers move to touch your pearl, gently rubbing it with the pads of his fingers. He feels your walls flutter around him, sees the way your lips part, and knows that you like it and so he continues. He feels his peak getting closer and closer, sitting up to take one of your breasts in his mouth, holding your hips in place when he feels you begin to tire, instead, rutting up against you like some sort of feral beast.

You reach your peak, moaning his name as he continues suckling at your breast, his cock still bullying against your walls until he lets out a shuddering, raspy moan of your name, spilling his seed deep inside you. The two of you fall backward onto the grass, breathing heavily as you gaze up at the stars. He brings your hand to his lips and turns to face you, holding you close.

“I love you, my Empress,” Osferth whispers, kissing you gently.

“And I love you, my Emperor.”

You two stay like that for a long while, gazing up at the stars, exchanging soft kisses, before you finally decide to begin your return to Coccham.

To your home.

Together.