I Normally Don't Entirely Enjoy Omegaverse Stuff But This...you May Have Just Converted Me. WHEW I AM

i normally don't entirely enjoy omegaverse stuff but this...you may have just converted me. WHEW I AM SWEATING🥵

semi-human nature {alpha!aemond targaryen x omega!reader x alpha!daemon targaryen}

{summary} a visit to king's landing goes awry when you go into your first heat— unaware not only that you are an omega, but also that your uncle and stepfather are alphas.

{word count} 6.7k

{warnings} smut (a/b/o standards like heat, breeding, knotting, all that good stuff; kinda dubcon because the reader doesn't totally understand what's happening at first), incest and stepcest (the reader is rhaenyra's daughter making her daemon's stepdaughter and aemond's niece), virginity loss, kinda painful sex/pain kink near the end, threesome, oral m receiving, spitroast, discussions of pregnancy, infidelity (daemon is married to rhaenyra), basically no plot just filthiness

Your visits to King's Landing were far too rare for your tastes.  You didn't mind that Dragonstone was your home, it was beautiful there and you and your brothers found plenty to do and see— but you missed the old castle at times, missed the adventure and mystery there.  Most of all, you missed your extended family.  Though, really, you only missed some very specific members of it.

Firstly, you missed your Aunt Helaena, because she'd always been kind to you and taught you some things when you were a girl— like how to braid hair and how to play her flute (but you were never very good at either).  Secondly, and much more, you missed your Uncle Aemond.  As cunning and cold as he could be to others, he tended to be sweet with you, as long as you could remember.  The older you both got, the more you started to feel more than a friendly, or familial, connection with him— your girlish daydreams sometimes drifted to what it would be like if you married him someday, but you figured that would never happen with the growing animosity between your family and his.  Still, when he smiled at you, or when he kissed your head the tender way he did, you couldn't help but hope he felt as you did.

But you loved your family here, of course— your mother was sweet to you, as her only daughter, and your stepfather Daemon loved you as his own.  (Some cast a suspicious eye at the two of you, thinking maybe he loved you more than his own… but he was just affectionate, that’s all.)

In fact, he was being characteristically tender with you as you approached King’s Landing, rubbing your arm reassuringly until you smiled up at him.  “I’m sure you’re the happiest of any of us to be here,” he told you with a smirk.

“You aren’t happy to see your brother?” you pressed, but he never answered.  Your conversation was interrupted by the end of the journey being reached; they were waiting in the courtyard for you, and even though there was a tension in the air between everyone, you couldn’t help but smile shyly at Aemond.  He looked back at you, the smallest curl growing on his lips, and your heart fluttered.

For now, you had to behave calmly and politely.  But as soon as dinner preparations had begun and everyone had separated to manage individual matters, you ran through the castle to find Aemond in his chambers— and flung yourself into his arms with a squeal of delight.

He hugged you in return, though he tried to soothe you as he laughed softly at your excitement.  “It hasn’t been so long, has it, niece?” he asked with a smirk— so smug about the way you clearly had missed him.

“You missed me too, didn’t you?” you sighed, pulling back to look up at his face; he wore the softest smile for you— his one eye sparkled brighter than the sapphire when he looked at you, you swore it, and you were glad you caught him without his patch to hide behind.

“Of course, sweet girl,” he promised.  “My— you’ve grown, haven’t you?  Weren’t you a little girl last you visited?  And now I’ve got a woman in my arms.”

You flushed with warmth in your face and chest when he spoke like that— you felt most like a woman in his arms, anyway, even though your stepfather had commented more than once as well on your development as of late.  “You act like I’m so much younger than you, Aemond,” you mumbled shyly.  Somehow, you felt most like a woman when he held you; and, even more strangely, most like that little girl he remembered when he looked at you like that.

The embrace was cut short when you felt that dizzy feeling again, your eyes blinking quickly and the heat of your flush growing almost unbearable for a moment.  “Are you alright?” he asked, seeing your dazed reaction. 

“Y-yes, I’m— this happens,” you mumbled, trying to find your balance again as he stepped forward to keep you from falling.  “Fainting spells— w-well, except I don’t faint… I just feel strange.”

He narrowed his eye, looking you up and down.  “Strange?”

“Hot,” you whispered, throat a little dry— suddenly you could smell him, and he smelled perfect: it reminded you of snow-covered pine, icy and sturdy just like him.  Why couldn’t you smell that before?

He pressed his hand to your forehead, and you bit your lip to keep from whimpering.  The heat just seemed to spread all over you, and your head spun as your knees went a little weak.  “How long has this been going on?  Do your parents know?” he asked quickly.

You struggled to keep your thoughts in order enough to answer, a cramp hitting your gut all of a sudden— that had happened before, too, but the episodes never lasted this long before… which was why you hadn’t told your parents, it didn’t seem notable at the time.  Now, of course, as pain twisted inside you, you regretted that.  “J-just… just a few…” you tried to respond, but then you couldn’t even remember how many days it had been.  All you could remember was this moment, and you reached up to clutch at his shoulders.  You swore you heard him growl as he pulled you into him, and the noise made a shiver run through your body.

“I think you may be— fuck,” he interrupted himself, and you felt his nose brush against the side of your face as he breathed in deeply beside your neck.  You were so soothed by his touch that you didn’t even really consider how bizarre it was that he buried his face there, smelling and tasting your skin.  “You’re presenting— poor thing, it hurts, doesn’t it?”

You didn’t know what that meant, but yes, it hurt; you whined as you nodded, making weak fists that tugged on his leather tunic.  

“I can help you,” he promised, “I can take that pain away.”

“Uncle,” you whimpered, “please— help me, please, I don’t understand what’s hap—”

“Shh, sweet girl,” he cooed softly, “you’ll be alright— it’s all well, I’m here now… I’ll help you, omega.”

Your eyebrows knitted— you weren’t sure you heard him right… omega?  Maybe it was a Valyrian word you hadn’t heard before?  You’d always daydreamed during your lessons as a child, and you certainly were less fluent than your uncle Aemond.

“All you have to do is as you’re told,” he instructed.  “Do what I say and I’ll take care of you.”

“Please,” you whined again, another cramp in your core hitting— and with it, a heat between your legs that you realised with distant shame was wetness flooding you.  He took a deep breath in and groaned, suddenly pulling you with him across the room.  You didn’t realise he was taking you to the bed until you felt it under your back.

“I can help you,” he said again, kissing all over your flushed face as you clutched at him desperately.  His hands started to slide up under your dress and pet your legs which spread wide for him instinctively, your hips shaking as more slick leaked from your opening.  “Your Alpha’s here, my darling…”

Before you could even consider asking what any of this meant— you were so needy, you might just let it all happen regardless— Daemon burst in the room.

“Fuck,” he blurted out when he saw you writhing on the bed while Aemond touched you.  “Is she really—?  I can smell her from across the courtyard, fuck, so sweet…”  

“Leave us, Uncle,” Aemond ordered instantly, “she’s mine.”

“She’s my daughter, I should be the one to help her,” Daemon sneered.  He crossed the room and approached the bed as Aemond held you tighter, defensively.

“She’s not your daughter,” Aemond scoffed, “she’s your wife’s bastard— and she’ll be my omega.”

Daemon shoved his nephew off of you with a growl, making you whimper.  “Please— please…” was all you could say.  You weren’t even sure what that sentence would be if you had the ability to finish: please don’t fight, perhaps, or please touch me.

“I should claim her,” Daemon insisted, descending on you next with a sweet purr.  “Don’t you want Papa to help you now?”

You whined in confusion, one hand shakily reaching up to hold onto your stepfather’s shoulder— but the other found Aemond’s hand and squeezed it tightly.  “Let her decide,” Aemond decided, knowing you were so affectionate for him— Daemon might agree to that measure, thinking you would choose your stepfather first, if he thought you understood what was being asked of you.

“She can’t decide now,” Daemon hissed, “she’s presenting, she’s delirious— and she doesn’t even know what she is!”

“She doesn’t—?!” Aemond repeated, eyes wide as he looked back and forth between you two.  “You never taught her?  You never told her—!”

“We didn’t know!” Daemon defended.  “We thought— everyone thought Rhaenyra would be an omega, as pure as she is, but she never presented… we just assumed—”

“How deprived you were, niece,” Aemond cooed at you, stroking your arm.  “Your mother never taught you about us— about how special our family really is, that you might be—”

“What am I?” you whimpered, shaking, looking up at your uncle with teary eyes.  He held your face and pet your cheek gently, but there was a rageful hunger in his eye like you’d never seen.

“You’re mine,” he answered.

“Ours,” Daemon corrected.  “She’ll belong to both of us.”

Even though you still barely had any idea what was going on, you knew how dangerous of a proposition that was.  Neither your uncle nor stepfather were ones for sharing…

Though he snarled in chagrin, Aemond was nodding as he pulled you into him again.  “We’ll both help you, all right?” he prompted you quietly.  “Your stepfather and I— we can both help you.  You just have to do as you’re told…”

“Please,” you repeated weakly; you were carried to the bed and all but thrown onto it, a moment later feeling Daemon’s hands help undress you right away.

“I want her first,” Aemond informed Daemon firmly.

“You know how long I’ve waited for this, boy?” Daemon snapped, making his nephew laugh coldly.

“What a naughty Papa you are,” he smirked.  “Will your wife approve of you fucking her daughter?”

“Wh-what?!” you choked.  “What… what will you do to me?”

Daemon growled in the back of his throat as your dress was torn away, and you felt two pairs of hands run all over your bare skin as Aemond pulled you to lay on him.  “As your uncle told you,” Daemon answered, “we’ll help you.”

Did they have to be so fucking cryptic all the time?!

“I’m having her first,” Aemond insisted again, “I found her first.  You’ll have your turn.”

He helped you to straddle his lap, reaching down to quickly free himself from his trousers with a sigh; your legs were shaking already, and you jolted when you felt him press his cock up to your opening.  “U-Uncle,” you whimpered, “are you— will we really—?”

“Haven’t you wanted this, sweet girl?” Aemond whispered in your ear.  “Don’t you want me to fill you?”

Though you whined before you let yourself admit it, you nodded.  “Yes,” you choked, “yes— I wanted this.”

Aemond gave his uncle a little smirk, admiring the look on Daemon’s face— some impossible, forbidden mix of a jealous lover and a disapproving father.  Apparently, he thought his stepdaughter was more loyal, and wouldn’t fall for her uncle sat so firmly on the other side of political lines.  But love is funny like that— especially where Targaryens are involved.

“Call me your Alpha,” Aemond instructed in a low groan by your ear, struggling to resist his instinct to simply take you without any more delay— he’d been fighting his desire the second he first smelled you, not wanting to rush it too much, but both men were overcome with the need to be inside you as you shuddered and whimpered.  

“Alpha,” you whispered back, feeling a pull to obey much more than usual when he spoke to you this way.  “My Alpha…”

He pulled your hips down, sliding his cock inside you all at once.  His head fell back as your hips rested on his; you cried loudly, feeling a sharp stretch— but more than pain, much more, there was pleasure, relief, and satisfaction.  You went totally limp in his arms and let him guide you to grind your hips just as he liked; “Fuck,” he panted, “you’re even more perfect than I ever— ah— ever imagined, dear niece— sweet omega…”

“Uncle,” you sobbed, clinging onto him tightly.  He was right— the pain had gone, for the most part, now all you had was this need for more… for everything.  Even though you were so weak and helpless, you found yourself able to move on top of him, bouncing up and down in his lap to find some more of that impossibly-perfect friction; he watched you with pride and lust in his smile.  “Aemond, it feels— oh…”

“It feels right,” he finished for you, “doesn’t it?”

You nodded in agreement, shivering when you realised the fingers ghosting up and down your spine were your stepfather’s.  “How does she feel?” he asked in a rough voice that would’ve been terrifying if you didn’t trust him completely.

“Hot,” Aemond answered quickly.  “So hot inside— she really is a dragon.”

They both laughed a little, though it wasn’t because it was funny— it was a specific emotion you’d never seen on either of them until now.  Daemon leaned in and kissed the back of your neck, making you gasp and whine and lean back into his arms as you kept riding Aemond dutifully; Aemond hissed slightly, digging his fingers into your hips. 

“She… she tensed up on me when you kissed her there,” Aemond said with a gasp.  “Fuck— I didn’t know she could get any tighter…”

“Beautiful,” Daemon praised you in a mumble against your skin, fingers now exploring more as he lightly tickled your sides and teased your breasts.  “Are you being good for him, omega?  Taking care of your uncle as you should?”

You gasped and nodded, eyes heavy and wet.  “Yes— yes, Papa…”

He hummed deeply, properly groping your chest now as he licked your neck, even nipping at it with his teeth to make you tighten inside again and again.  “F-fuck,” Aemond choked, “I won’t— I can’t take much more of that, she’s so— she’s perfect, you can’t imagine how perfect—”

“I don’t have to,” Daemon growled, pulling you off of Aemond who whimpered and begged to have you back— but the older man was well past the limit of his patience, snarling as he positioned you onto your hands and knees.  He held your shoulder to keep you steady, hard cock flexing at the way you hung your head in submission and turned just enough to look back at him innocently over your shoulder.  He smiled as you as he gripped himself inside his trousers, silently praying for the patience not to tear you open as soon as he could.  Yes, you were his omega, and his stepdaughter— his property in more ways than one— but he would prefer not to hurt you, and his instincts were fighting against his logical mind in that regard.

When he exposed himself, he saw you trying to look— trying to see if your Papa’s cock would break you, and he just chuckled slightly to himself.

“You’ll be able to take it,” he promised roughly, “you’re made to take it.”

He lined himself up, knocking your knees further apart with his own before plunging inside with a long sigh.  You cried again but pushed back against him, too; your hands still clung weakly onto your uncle, who soothed you and kissed your tears away encouragingly.

“You were right,” Daemon sighed, electing to just hold you still and stay buried as deep as he could go for a moment.  “She’s— fuck.”

Aemond took one of your hands from his shoulder and guided it down to his cock, still soaked from your slick; he guided you to stroke it with your shaking fingers, whispering filthy praises in your ear while Daemon fucked you slowly (at first).  “You have to take care of both of us,” your uncle reminded you.  “Gods, you smell so sweet… I could smell you from across the hall, that’s how I found you— I knew you needed me, needed an Alpha to breed you.”

“I… I don’t understand…” you mumbled, gasping as your stepfather picked up his pace and fucked you more roughly.

“We should tell her now,” Daemon decided.  “Well, you should— I’m quite busy already— fuck, so tight…”

“Would you like me to tell you everything, sweet girl?” Aemond asked you, tightening your grip on his cock when you nodded.  “Just keep— keep stroking me, and I’ll tell you.”

“Yes,” you agreed, “anything…”

“Our family is very special,” Aemond explained to you— which you already knew, but clearly there was more to it than you were taught.  “There’s a reason we keep to our own, protect our bloodline: some of us are… gifted.  Like your stepfather and I.”

“Like you,” Daemon added, though he was struggling to focus on any conversation as he used you.

“I always knew you were meant for more, my lovely niece,” Aemond cooed, though his nostrils flared for a moment as he moved your hand to wank him faster.  “And you are— meant to give us a new branch of the family, purer than any that came before…”

Even with your mind still clouded with desperation, you knew how you were expected to do that.  “You’ll— you’ll get me pregnant?” you realised with a shaky gasp.

Aemond nodded, smiling as he kissed your face.  “Don’t worry— it won’t be as difficult for you as it was for your mother.  She’s not like us, she’s… weaker.”

“They all are,” Daemon added, in defence of his wife.  “It’s been generations since an omega was born to us.. even in as pure a family as ours, it’s rare— only your uncle and I are Alphas.”

“It makes you much more fertile,” Aemond continued, “it makes us need to care for you— with our bloodline, there’s a small chance any of us could be like this… but our children, with both their parents being this way, they’ll all be gifted in the same way.  Think of the generations we’ll sire, and it all starts tonight…”

Clearly, he was excited by the prospect of keeping you bred for years to come, creating a new line of Targaryens guaranteed with these ‘gifts’ of fertility and instinct… well, you weren’t quite as keen.  Even as your body longed for the promise of being impregnated, your mind filled with fear.  “I— what if I can’t—?” you started to wonder.

“You will,” Aemond promised, without even knowing what concerned you— because he didn’t have to.  “You can do anything, omega, you’ll do anything for your Alphas.  It’s your nature; you obey.”

Just as he said it, Daemon thrust especially roughly into you and made you quiver.  A pleasure began to build in your gut, heavy and hot, while your stepfather let go of all pretence and fucked you with all the passion and possessiveness he’d been holding back for years.  He bent down over you and gave open-mouthed kisses to your back, making you feel small in his grasp and feeling the heat of every moan and sigh spread over your skin.  “So perfect,” he said again, “it’s better than anything— you really were made for pleasure, weren’t you, omega?”

“Haven’t you had enough?” Aemond sneered at his uncle.  “I think it’s time for my turn again.”

“You can have your turn after I’ve knotted her,” Daemon decided.

Aemond grabbed you angrily, pulling you forward and slipping Daemon’s cock out of you— both of you reacting in disappointment.  “Your knot?  Please,” Aemond scoffed, “that could take hours— I need her now.”

“So do I,” Daemon insisted, but Aemond was determined to get inside you again.  Breathing through his teeth, he pushed his cock back into you roughly, guiding your hips to make sure he filled you to the very brim.  Shivering, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and let him fuck into you, accepting that it was better to let them do whatever they liked with you and just hope you didn’t get ripped to shreds in their fight over you.

“So beautiful,” Aemond sighed just before he kissed you on the lips— you let your mouth go slack right away, offering it for him to claim as well; his kiss was filthy and hungry and desperate, making you moan and whimper his name helplessly as he fucked you harder and harder.

“Don’t make me watch this,” Daemon pleaded with a whine, easily the most pathetic you’d ever heard him sound.  “I need— fuck, she smells so good…”

“You can fuck her again,” Aemond promised, only breaking away from the kiss long enough to speak, “when I’m done.”

“When you’re done?” Daemon realised.  “You’re going to knot her, aren’t you?  Fucking bastard.”

Of course, the only thing that could make Aemond stop kissing you was a chance to argue with your stepfather.  “I wouldn’t speak of bastards if I were you, Uncle,” Aemond taunted.  “Let her use her hand on you while you wait.”

“Hand?  I have much greater ideas than that,” Daemon informed you both proudly.  He moved around from his place behind you, kneeling beside where Aemond laid on the ground so he could pull you away from the kiss and push his cock up to your face.  “Use your mouth, omega— stick your tongue out for me.”

Doing as you were told, you whimpered slightly as he slid the fat head of his cock over your waiting tongue.

“Good,” he praised, staring down at you and petting your hair soothingly.  “You do so well for us both, darling— now close your lips on it.  Suckle on it, not too hard— fuck, fuck, how perfect you are…”

“I don’t especially care for your bollocks in my face, Uncle,” Aemond frowned.

“Lean away,” Daemon offered, not exactly sympathetic to the issue when he was so focused on the warmth of your mouth on his cock.

“I can’t!  Your knee is on my hair!” Aemond snapped, and Daemon finally moved enough for Aemond to yank his head away with a grimace.  

“You see why I keep mine shorter now,” Daemon chuckled.  

“I doubt that’s exactly why,” Aemond rolled his eyes, but knowing how perverse his uncle could be, he almost worried that he actually had found himself on the other end of the same issue before.

“My apologies,” Daemon offered in a mumble, but Aemond clearly wasn’t going to hold a grudge— he was moaning again already, holding your hips so he could buck up into you, kissing all along your opposite shoulder while your stepfather pushed his cock deeper into your mouth.

In fact, he kept sliding his thick shaft between your swollen lips until the tip of his cock reached the back of your throat, making you gag.  You wanted to apologise, but you didn’t for two reasons: one, your mouth was full; two, Daemon only moaned louder, praising you again.  In fact, he kept making you gag over and over until a tear ran down your cheek.  “Let her breathe,” Aemond ordered, sounding almost hurt with how worried he was for you.

Daemon pulled out of your mouth to let you gasp and sputter, Aemond holding your face and kissing it repeatedly to try to soothe you.  “I-I’m alright,” you promised, “let me try again, please, Papa—”

Daemon grinned darkly as he pushed his cock back up to your lips.  “You’re too sweet, omega— you want so much to please your Alphas, I know.”

“Don’t go so hard on her,” Aemond warned, “you know if you hurt her at all, it will be hard not to kill you.”

Daemon was more amused than concerned by the threat, but he knew his nephew was right— not just about the way Alphas would defend their mates instinctively (Daemon understood that instinct firsthand, it was how poor Laenor met his end), but about the fact that he should be gentler with you.  You weren’t one of his whores, you were his sweet daughter and a new omega— you needed to be treated with care.  But it was almost impossible to keep calm in a time like this.  “You should know how difficult it is to hold myself back,” Daemon sighed, “having to smell her and see her and listen to her— her mouth isn’t enough, I need her cunt.”

"Well, so do I," Aemond countered.

Unfortunately for Aemond, Daemon was stronger— and terribly impatient.  He growled and yanked you off of Aemond, throwing you onto your back and roughly filling you again.  You gasped, overwhelmed by being thrown back and forth between them, with never enough time for your body to get properly used to one or the other.  It certainly felt different looking up at your stepfather as he fucked you, seeing him groan and bare his neck as he moved his hips quickly.  "Papa," you gasped, properly accepting for the first time that it was your stepfather— your mother's husband, your great uncle— fucking you now.  He smiled down at you, holding himself up by one hand as he touched your face with the other.

"Darling," he whispered, "you knew, didn't you?  That I wanted you in this way?"

Honestly, you weren't sure— it all felt like a lifetime ago now; presenting as an omega was disrupting enough to your worldview, being claimed by your uncle and stepfather made it even more sure that this felt like the beginning of something entirely new.

"Daemon, everyone knew," Aemond assured.  "You were never subtle."

You wanted to ask if your mother knew— but the pleasure kept you from speaking anything coherent, and the instincts controlling your body kept you from feeling any guilt.  Like Aemond said, it just felt so right, so natural that you knew nothing about this could be wrong.

Aemond pulled you into another kiss, laying beside you and touching you anywhere he could reach— starting first with your breasts, which he broke away from your lips to latch onto next.  You moaned loudly, feeling terrible sensitive with Aemond's tongue and lips teasing your hardened nipples.  "How full these will be…" Aemond whispered reverently against your skin.  "All your milk for our babies… you're incredible— our little omega, you'll carry so many beautiful Targaryens in you…"

You whimpered, reaching down to find Aemond's throbbing cock— he hissed as you gripped it, trying to stroke him the same way he'd guided you before.  "I— I want to please you, Alpha…"

He groaned and smiled, coming back up to your lips again but holding your face so he could look at you closely.  "I know, sweet girl— it's in your nature.  You live to serve, don't you, omega?"

Whining slightly, you nodded, and he captured your mouth in another kiss.

The thrusts into you grew faster and more erratic, rocking your body as you gasped.  Aemond's hand slipped down over your mound, finding your swollen bud and rubbing it as Daemon fucked you with ruthless intensity.  It was too much: it made your back arch and your throat catch.

"Come, omega," Daemon ordered; helpless to his commands, you sucked in a gasp against Aemond's lips and felt another wave of hot slick leak from between your quivering legs.  Both men groaned, and you swore you saw Aemond's eye go black as he took a deep inhale of your heady scent in the air.

"So obedient," Aemond observed, "I hadn't even known that omegas could come on command… what a talent."

There was this embarrassing squelching noise coming from where your stepfather drove his cock into you, your arousal coating his and your thighs as he held the back of your knees.

“Fuck!” Daemon grunted suddenly, and you struggled and whimpered as you felt his cock seem to swell— more and more, well past what you thought was possible, until you cried out from the fullness.  

“Alpha!” you sobbed, hearing him snarl as he held your hips to keep you from trying to get away.  

“Are you—?” Aemond realised, growling with jealousy.  “Fuck, you’re breeding your own stepdaughter, you’re unforgivable…”

“It’s— fuck, just wait, nephew,” Daemon promised, still panting as more of his sticky come flooded inside you.

“I can’t wait,” Aemond whimpered, “I need to breed her, you know I need to—”

“It’ll be worth the wait,” Daemon assured, “it’s unlike anything— gods, she’s—”

He never finished any of those sentences, just moaning and continuing to pump his seed into you as he breathed heavily.  “What’s happening?” you asked Aemond with a shaky whimper.

“Your Papa is filling you, omega,” he answered, petting your side as you shivered.  “One of the ways we’re different— Alphas, we… we have something called a knot.  It keeps us inside so you’ll never waste a drop of seed— but only omegas can fit something so large, we have to… make concessions, with other lovers.”

“We can never be… fully inside, when we finish,” Daemon panted, “or we’ll hurt them— could kill them, really.  But you, you… you take it so well, omega, you take it perfectly… fuck!”

“I-it hurts, a little,” you admitted, trying not to move so you wouldn’t disturb the soreness inside you.  “It’s— how is it so big?”

Daemon smirked proudly, holding onto you just as tightly though he’d finished spilling his seed already.  He tilted his head back slightly first as he took deep and fast breaths, only to drop it forward limply as silver strands hung limply around his face.

"Fuck," Daemon sighed again, "I never could've imagined how it would feel… being so deep within you, that sweet cunt keeping my knot warm inside— darling, it's incredible."

He stroked your face approvingly as you sighed.

"You expect me to wait until it's gone down for my turn to feel that?" Aemond sneered.

"You don't have a choice," Daemon laughed, "you'll hurt her if you try to get her off now.  You'll just have to find some patience."

The only instinct stronger than the need to breed was to protect you, and so Aemond snarled as he guided your hand to his aching cock once more as he waited his turn.  You felt complete relief, for the first time since the headache began, as you felt Daemon's knot inside you.  You didn't feel the same as you had before, though: you felt… better?  In a sense.  You felt complete.  You felt accomplished, useful… needed.

Aemond groaned against your skin as he fucked your fist, kissing along your shoulder and collarbone.  "Such a good omega— you'll take me next, won't you?  You can satisfy us both, yes?"

"Yes, Alpha— anything, I'll do whatever I can," you promised, addicted already to how rewarding it felt to be good for them.  They both smiled proudly.

"You used to be so stubborn," Daemon remembered.  "So much changes when you present, doesn't it?  Believe it or not, I was rather level-headed before I presented as an Alpha."

"I'll go with 'not'," Aemond decided.

Daemon didn’t notice or mind much what Aemond had said, too focused on looking down at where your leaking cunt managed to fit his knot— he was still amazed by it.  He’d spent his whole life pulling out enough to keep the knot outside when he came (that is, when he could manage to finish at all), even though at times it took all his willpower to fight that instinct.  It felt perfect to be inside you now— perfect in a way he’d never allowed himself to imagine before.

Aemond’s patience was well past worn; he forced your hand to wrap tightly around his aching cock, fucking your hand as he kissed you hard and whined against your lips.  “Omega,” he panted, “even your hand is so divine— but I need to be inside you, I need to breed and fill you, please—”

“Not much longer,” Daemon promised, though he was clearly irritated.  “It takes time, nephew.”

You could tell Aemond wanted to say something particularly catty in that moment— probably something about how it was impressive that Daemon could keep his knot at all at his age— but only a groan fell from his mouth as you squeezed his cock a little tighter.  He guided your hand lower to rub gently over his balls, and you realised how desperate he really was when you felt how swollen they’d become, how tender they were as you barely touched them and he hissed in a breath.  “Fuck,” he panted, “all that come will be inside you soon— I know how badly you need it, omega, to be bred by your uncle.”

You whimpered but nodded in agreement, letting him move your hand just how he liked so you could keep his hunger at bay.

As for you, the knot inside you brought you mostly back to reality— but a needy, desperate Alpha beside you kept your omega instincts in control even as some logical thought returned to your mind.  That logic made you want to ask them a thousand questions, about what you were and what this all meant and what this would mean for your family… but you couldn’t, because Aemond never stopped kissing you long enough to let you speak.  Not that you were exactly fighting to get a word in: you loved the way he kissed you, so you just melted into it and let him go on tasting your mouth while he stroked himself with your hand.

You couldn’t say how long it was before Daemon broke his silence, but however long it was, it went by quickly— for you.  For Aemond, it was like a lifetime.  “It’s small enough now,” Daemon decided.  “You can finally have your turn, nephew— but I know you’ll miss me, little omega, when this pathetic boy is on top of you.”

“Gods, just hurry up,” Aemond choked, and Daemon sighed as he held your hips and unsheathed himself from you.  The knot wasn't completely subsided, but it had shrunk significantly— enough for him to hiss as he carefully slid it out.  You whimpered as the bulge of it tugged on your sore walls, and made a stinging pain hit your opening as it passed through.  But, finally, you were empty… for a split second.  Aemond wasted no time getting on top of you and guiding his leaking cock to your hole; he plunged in all at once, making you wince and yelp as you held onto his shoulders, but he ignored the pain he was inflicting and started to move already— he just couldn’t stop himself.

The sting was worth it, though, to hear his loud, satisfied moans; his voice was rougher and deeper than you’d ever heard it, filled with awe as he watched your body take him fully with every thrust.  He wasn’t moving very quickly yet— faster than you were ready for, yes, but still savouring the feeling of you for himself.

“I hope she’s not too stretched out from my knot,” Daemon chuckled, obviously not genuine— he hoped his nephew could feel the difference, so he was silently disappointed when Aemond shook his head.

“She feels just as before,” Aemond breathed, “just as tight and warm— just as perfect, fuck, she really was made for this.  I would never have taken another woman if I knew this was waiting for me— if I knew I could have an omega to breed someday.”

“I was under the impression you hadn’t taken other women,” Daemon laughed, “you certainly fuck like a virgin.”

“You ramble like a drunk,” Aemond sneered in reply, losing any interest in verbally sparring with his uncle as he started to move just a bit faster inside you.  "Beautiful," he sighed as he leaned down, holding you close, kissing your tears away as he fucked your sore cunt as gently as he could manage.  "So beautiful, my omega— you take me so well, even when it hurts you… you take your Alpha so well."

His praise made it all worth it, and soon enough the soreness was forgotten— as was his attempting to be careful with you; within a few minutes he was holding you tight and fucking into you ruthlessly, panting beside your face while he slammed his cock into the very end of your insides.  Even still, even after hours of your Alphas taking turns with you, your body never stopped leaking slick for them, until Aemond was soaked in your heat— his cock, balls, thighs, even dripping down to the bed beneath you…

“It won’t be much longer now,” he warned.  “You’ll be bred— my child in you, sweet girl, is that what you want?  All that ache’s going to go away, once you’re good and pregnant, like you were meant to be.”

It sounded like everything you’d ever wanted; it called to your most primal desires and made pleasure course through your veins until your skin was alight with ecstasy.  "Please, Alpha!" you sobbed, holding onto him tightly.  "I want your knot!  I want your baby…"

"Fuck," Aemond gasped, baring his neck to you as he thrusted faster, faster, faster— you were afraid you would go numb inside from the friction, heat building until it all collapsed; you twitched and jolted from the orgasm overtaking you, just as Aemond’s knot began to swell.  You felt it, like you had with Daemon: the warm come flooding inside your spent cunt, and your eyes rolled back as you went limp.  It hurt to take another knot, yes, but you were too exhausted to even react.  You were too exhausted to even think, even though you had much to think about: like the fact that your uncle and stepfather had just claimed and taken you, bred you, both of them fully intending to have you with child soon.  They’d have no way to tell whose child it was, would that even matter?  Would your mother stay married to Daemon— would either of them, or both, take you as their wife?  What would you say when, inevitably, questions arose?

None of those questions seemed to matter now… all you could think of was the man above you and inside you, the perfect expression of relief on his face as his knot kept growing inside you.

"O-oh," he choked, tightening his fist beside your head, "it feels so…"

"I know," Daemon smirked proudly.  "It's unlike anything else, isn't it?"

Aemond nodded weakly, still trying to catch his breath.  "Omega… our perfect omega…"

Daemon leaned down to join in on the praise, petting your head as you let your heavy eyes fall shut.  "You did so well for us both," he whispered to you.  "You may rest now— you did beautifully, now rest…"

You weren’t able to drift to sleep until they were both holding you; Aemond still inside and surrounding you while Daemon gently lifted you to cradle you from behind, with his chest to your back.  You should’ve felt confused, maybe guilty, maybe even disgusted as you reckoned with what you had done— what had been done to you.  Instead, you only felt at peace, safe and satisfied.  You were blessed with a gentle and dreamless sleep as your Alphas held you, still whispering to you sometimes— still discussing softly with each other what they would do next.  From now on, you could leave the thinking and worrying to them, and just fulfil your natural purpose.  It sounded nice, actually: lots of pure Targaryen babies, yours and Aemond’s and Daemon’s children, a strange but beautiful family.

For something you couldn’t have even imagined this morning, it seemed so obvious to you now… obvious, and sort of inevitable.  Not that you minded; you were happy to be theirs.

FUCK THIS WAS SO FUCKIN GOOD. MY HEART. Dieter, my beloved disaster bi💗💜💙

𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙢 || dieter bravo x camgirl!reader (part three; finale)

read 𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙩 (part one) and 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙢 (part two) first!

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || he can't believe you're really here— now he has to just try not to blow it... figuratively speaking.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5.7k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ only; unprotected sex, oral f receiving, multiple orgasms/overstimulation [for reader], creampie), sex work (however dieter technically does not pay the reader for sex, just her flight to visit him c:), mentions of covid-19 pandemic, soft dieter being soft, emotions!! lots of 'em!, extremely sappy/fluffy ending (oops?)

He wasn’t sure who he was more worried would get recognized: you, or himself.

It was his idea to go out to dinner first, in fact he’d insisted on it.  Going out to dinner in times like these was a bit iffy, but thankfully the place had outdoor dining and you’d both already tested negative— for more than just the virus…

It was a beautiful evening to eat outside, but it made him even more anxious that any passerby might know him either of you from your respective works; so far, no one had said anything though.

As he watched you take a sip of your sparkling water, he realized that he hadn’t had a crush on anyone in a long, long time.  He hadn’t had sweating palms and a racing heart and a dry throat over someone since probably high school.  By the time he was in his BFA program, he was so focused on his craft that he didn’t find himself worrying much about that sort of stuff— and if he wanted to get someone into bed, it didn’t seem like much to stress over.

This was different.  This wasn’t an issue of getting you to sleep with him, although he certainly hoped you wouldn’t renege on the intentions you’d stated before— this was about getting you to like him, maybe even (as he would’ve put it back when he last had a crush) ‘like like’ him.

“Was your flight okay?” Dieter asked compulsively to fill the silence, proud of himself for thinking of something to say.

“Still good,” you nodded.  “You asked me that when we first got here.”

“Right,” he sighed, “sorry.  I forgot.”

“It’s fine,” you laughed, setting your glass down on the white tablecloth.  “I’m nervous, too.  But in a good way.”

He smiled.  “Yeah— I’m just really excited that you’re here.  And it’s still kind of weirding me out that you’re… you know, real.”

“It’s definitely trippy,” you agreed.  “When you see somebody over video chat a lot, they look sort of surreal in real life.”

“Are you… speaking from experience?” he wondered, lowering his voice a bit.

“Yeah— but not this kind of experience,” you clarified.  “I’ve never met anyone from my work before— I told you that.”

“Right, yeah— I believe you,” he assured.  “Have you ever flown overseas just to meet someone before?”

You laughed, looking down for a second.  “No, I haven’t,” you answered, “but this isn’t the first time I’ve been, you know, wined and dined by somebody…”

“Well, I figured this wasn’t your first date,” Dieter scoffed.

“No, I mean— well, yeah,” you hummed, “but I, um… before I started camming, I was actually a sugar baby.  So I’ve had my flights paid for before, is what I mean.”

He widened his eyes a little, but nodded— hoping to look more intrigued than overwhelmed.  “Oh, wow, that’s— I don’t know a lot about that, honestly…”

“I was about to ask if you’d ever had a sugar baby before,” you smirked, “guess not.”

“Yeah, no,” he shook his head, “not my— not for me.  Not before, I mean— is that what you want?”

He got a little nervous that you would only want that— a relationship built on money.  He was more than happy to drop some cash on you— he’d offered to pay for everything for you on this trip, it only seemed fair when you had to come all this way— but he got a sick feeling in his stomach imagining that that was all you wanted from him.

But then again, he just said he didn’t know a lot about it, maybe it wasn’t like that… he just felt like it was another performance, and that was the last thing he needed from anybody.

“O-oh, no— not with us,” you answered quickly, blinking a few times, and he sighed with relief.  “I mean, it was nice— it wasn’t all old guys and crazy finance douchebags like people think,” you explained with a laugh, “but it was… it was hard work, in its own way.  ‘Cause another misconception is that it’s sex in exchange for money and gifts— it’s not, not the way I did it at least.  Those guys wanted the ‘girlfriend experience’... that’s the most profitable thing, whether it’s online or in-person.”

Dieter cleared his throat; can’t blame them, I guess…

“But, you know, they didn’t have the time for a genuine relationship, so it was like giving that emotion but never receiving it,” you continued, “and that was exhausting.  Not to mention most of them had other girls involved… I’m not a jealous person, but you know, that’s obviously not what I want for myself in the end.  So I switched to camming, worked out well with the pandemic and everything…”

“I’m sure,” Dieter agreed.  “So, um… maybe this is kind of a forward question, for a first date, but… what do you want for yourself in the end?”

You seemed to get a little more shy, then.  “Well…” you began softly.  “Despite what you’ve seen me do, I’m a pretty traditional girl.  I want a serious relationship, I want a lifelong commitment, I want… a family, probably.”

It was hard not to feel a lump in his throat when you said that, even if his emotions were conflicted at best.

“I mean— that doesn’t have to be you,” you rushed out, “I’m just saying… that’s the end goal.  I have a lot of time for that, in my opinion.”

“No, right,” he agreed.  “So then, I guess the obvious question— and probably a much easier one— is what’s your goal for tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow.  “I already told you my goal for tonight.”

He swallowed thickly.  He remembered your last message before getting on the plane pretty clearly: boarding now. hopefully i can get some sleep but i’m pretty wired ngl. just thinking about getting there and jumping your bones. i want you to fuck me so hard i can’t walk (or think) straight.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded at all if you just took me straight to the hotel,” you smirked, “but dinner is nice.”

“Yeah, I— I thought about it,” he admitted.  “But… can I be honest?”

“Always.”

“I wanted this to be more than just… that,” he said.  He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to tell you, but he hoped it wouldn’t bother you too much.  Thankfully, the gentle smile creeping up your face seemed to indicate that it wasn’t particularly offensive.

“So, what do you want this to be?” you pressed.

“We can figure that out as we go,” he offered, “we should get to know each other better— for real.  But that night that we stayed up until three just talking after what was supposed to be a one-hour call—”

He saw you smile even wider as you remembered it.

“I haven’t felt close to anyone like that in—” he began, but it all stopped as the waiter suddenly appeared from thin air.

“Your tortellini, ma’am,” he said as he set your plate down in front of you, and you offered an intrigued ‘ooh’ as you examined the dish, “and your langoustines alla busara,” he finished as he set Dieter’s food down.

“Thank you,” you offered the server with a polite nod, but Dieter could only muster a hum— he was a little miffed that the guy had managed to interrupt such an important moment.

“Anything else I can get for you two?” he asked, looking back and forth.

You looked over at him to check first, before shaking your head and replying, “No, I think we’re alright.”

“Excellent,” he beamed.  “And— can I just say one thing?”

You both paused, not sure what to make of that.  “Uh, sure,” Dieter decided, since the waiter seemed to be looking at him.

“I loved you in Hunger Strike,” he said excitedly; Dieter tensed up, wanting to look at you to gauge your reaction but suddenly too afraid of what he’d find.

“Oh, thank you,” he mumbled out, “that… means a lot.”

“I mean, it really moved me,” the waiter insisted, even though Dieter just wanted this interaction to end promptly.  “You were so— I’m really not trying to intrude, but is there any way I can get your autograph?”

Then he looked at you, and he couldn’t quite read the expression on your face— amusement, maybe, with a hefty dose of discomfort as well.  You looked away and took a long sip of your drink.  “Uhh,” Dieter choked, looking back at his adoring fan, “you’ll get my autograph when you bring the check.”

Seeming to realize that he had gone too far, the young man straightened up and cleared his throat.  “Right, uh— enjoy your meal.”

Scampering away, he left the both of you behind, along with all that tension he’d created.  How come he got a escape a situation that was his own fault, and Dieter was stuck here wondering if you would be upset that he didn’t tell you who he really was— or if you’d reveal you were a crazy stalker-fan the whole time— or if knowing he was famous would change your interest in being with him (if you even had any)?

“I’m… sorry about that,” Dieter finally offered to you, and you started to smile.

“Don’t be,” you chuckled, “it was kinda funny.  Do you usually react so… badly, to that kind of thing?”

He coughed a bit.  “No, I— are you not…?  Do you know—?”

“I saw the movie, Hector, I don’t live under a rock,” you admitted.

“Oh.”  Not sure what to say next, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind: “What did you think of it?”

Shrugging, you answered with a simple ‘eh’.  There was a pause before he began to crack up— and then you did, too. 

“So, I’ve been worrying about all you finding out about my career for nothing?” he assumed, and you nodded.

“I didn’t recognize you right away,” you explained, “but I put it together before we planned all this.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he wondered.

“I mean, I didn’t think I needed to, really,” you shrugged again.  “It’s just your job.  I was ready to talk about it if you brought it up— if you wanted to vent about work or something— but you never did, so I figured it must not be relevant.”

“Does it… change anything between us?” he asked nervously.  “Do you feel weird about going out with a movie star?”

“Mm, I don’t know about star…” you smirked, making him laugh again— and that was the part that was the same as always.  You still made him laugh, and now that the two of you were really talking again, it felt just like that night that you talked for hours— but even better.

When the plates were cleaned and the bill was paid, the two of you walked back to his hotel— he’d picked this place in part because he could see it from his window.  But that brief walk back was one of his favorite parts of the night so far, only because he’d slipped his arm around you, and you leaned into him: in that moment, he felt more normal than he had in a long time— and yet, at the same time, special in a way he’d never felt before.

~

“I tried to clean up in here, but—”

“Isn’t there housekeeping for that?” you wondered.  

“Yeah, but… I’ve had the ‘do not disturb’ sign up for the past week,” Dieter explained.  “Didn’t want anyone to come in while we were talking…”

“Right,” you smiled, finishing your examination of the room and turning to face him again.  The door shut on its own; you were looking at him with every light in the room reflected in your eyes.

He stepped closer to you, and wrapped his arms around you, and— why were his palms so clammy?  “I don’t think I’ve been this nervous to kiss someone since… since maybe my first ever kiss,” he recalled, and you laughed softly.

“Yeah, me either,” you whispered back, and he ran his hand over the curve of your hip.  “Who was your first kiss?”

“Uh, Sandy something… Brendan, I think— no, Brennan… Sandy Brennan.  We sat next to each other in History class in seventh grade,” he recalled.  “What about you?”

“I mean, unless you count a peck or two from my kindergarten boyfriend,” you chuckled, “my first real kiss wasn’t until high school— Gregory Cho.  But I wasn’t that nervous… actually, I was sort of ready to get it over with.”

“There was someone I was really nervous to kiss in high school, too,” he recalled, “but that was… different.”

“Who was it?”

That name was much easier to recall.  “Alex Brooks.”

“Was she super pretty?  Or popular?” you pressed, wondering what had him so nervous, what made it different.

“Both,” Dieter replied quickly.  “And… he was captain of the basketball team.”

You didn’t react strongly, but he still noticed it.

“Is that—?” he began to ask.

“He sounds like a real catch,” you smiled.  “Was he a good kisser?”

“Yeah,” Dieter laughed, “for a high schooler.  I guess things don’t feel as special now as they did back then— just some decent making-out in someone’s dad’s truck was the coolest thing, now it’s like— it’s all right there, you don’t have to…” he trailed off, but started a new sentence.  “I mean, even you— I’ve seen every part of you, but I just really met you for the first time.  And somehow I’m so afraid to kiss you.”

You were still smiling, but it changed, and you reached up to rest your hand on the back of his neck; it made him shiver in the best way.  “If you’re afraid, then it must still be pretty special.”

You kissed him, after all that; he would’ve felt bad for making you wait, if he wasn’t so fully engrossed in kissing you back and pulling you closer and breathing in deeply against your skin.  

For a long time, that was all it was— just one, amazing kiss.  Just his lips on yours and the gentle dance of trying to go further without going to far; just your hands holding tightly onto his shoulders as he gripped your waist through the dress.

You started to pull him across the room by his shirt— towards the bed— and broke away to speak; he tried to chase your lips for more, but stopped when you bit your lip and rested a finger on his chin.

“You haven’t seen every part of me,” you corrected him— even though he barely fucking remembered saying that after a kiss like that.  “I mean, my body, sure, but… not who I really am.”

“Then show me that,” he pleaded.  “That’s what I want— you, everything.”

You smiled wide and kissed him again, the two of you toppling onto the bed together.  

He’d been thinking about doing this since the moment he saw you: pulling up the bottom of your dress so he could pet your thighs, enamored with the smoothness of your skin.  “Baby,” he purred when he caught sight of your panties— what little there was of them.  The lace just gave him a glimpse of what was beneath, a tease of your perfect little cunt.

“God, I need you so bad,” you groaned as you pulled him down for another kiss; he’d been hard since you wrapped your arms around him, and he could swear he was already throbbing by the time he rocked his hips against yours.  “Fuck— feels even bigger than it looked…”

“Maybe your computer screen wasn’t big enough,” he joked, making you laugh lightly before another moan came out when he rocked down on you again.  “What do you want, beautiful?”

“You… you know what I want…” you panted, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Humor me,” he encouraged, moving in to kiss your neck— and loving the way you squirmed under him.

“Want— want you to fuck me,” you whimpered, “want you to make me— fuck— yours…”

He groaned deeply as he rutted his hips into yours harder, finally taunting you to the point that you had to reach down and start opening his pants.  “So eager,” he mocked playfully, as if he wasn’t going to ravage you the second you were done getting his cock out.

In fact, he almost tore your dress as he pulled it down to expose your chest, barely finding the time to appreciate the view of your tits before latching his mouth onto them.  “Oh fuck,” you gasped, and he smiled around the pert nipple in his mouth; these had seemed sensitive from the way you toyed with them as you touched yourself, but it was heaven on earth to confirm his suspicion himself.

“Want me to make you mine?” he prompted again, voice muffled by your delicate skin in his mouth, and you whimpered as you nodded.

“Yes— please—” you begged.

“Not sure I can do that,” he warned, and you gave him a confused look.  “You’re already mine, you told me yourself.”

You giggled, arching your back slightly as the tip of his tongue drew circles on you.  "I did say that, didn't I?"

"Mhm," he confirmed.  "Hard to forget."

"Well, m'still yours," you offered, "but I need you right now, I'll do— fuck, anything, just—"

"You don't need to do anything," he assured, looking up at you as he moved his mouth from your breast down a little lower, "just lay back and I'm gonna take care of you."

You bit your lip and nodded.

"Second I saw you I wanted to kiss you all over," he sighed.

"Well, I've got a couple ideas of where you can start," you smirked.

And yes, he would love to start there, but he needed to do his best not to rush this.  So, smiling up at you first, he began his journey.  His lips and tongue explored your body on his way down: a kiss here, a lick there, a playful bite when he felt extra naughty.  "You're so fucking beautiful," he mumbled against you.

"Yeah?  You too," you sighed.

He didn't think of himself like that— handsome, maybe, certainly aware of his better angles, but beautiful felt strange.  But he liked it, especially when you said it.  Especially when you said it while he was slotting his face between your legs.

It was even prettier up close, and the smell was fucking intoxicating: tangy and musky and sweet, heady, earthy, human.  And he knew you'd taste even better.

So he dove right in.  Maybe he should've started with your clit, that would've been the obvious choice, but his instincts led him to just slide his tongue right into your hole.  If nothing else, it certainly seemed to take you off guard, and you gasped as you grabbed onto his hair with both hands.

"Baby, fuck, that's— oh god, you can't imagine how many times I thought of this," you admitted, breathing heavy already.  He smiled against you, then gave you one big lick from the furthest down his tongue could reach all the way to the very top— all while holding fierce eye contact with you.  "Fu-uuuuck," you choked, dropping your head back just as your eyes rolled up.  "That's so… just do that again, please…"

He did it a few more times, noticing the way you seemed to get more impatient with each one, until your hips were chasing after his tongue.  "Stay still, baby, don't you trust me to do this right?" he purred, holding tighter on your hips.

"Yeah, I just— been so long," you whimpered.

He just did his best to find what made you scream the loudest and keep doing that— you were so sensitive, he just had to press his tongue down flat on your clit and move it in circles and you’d start shaking and sobbing and begging.  He moaned into you every time you tugged on his hair, having to rock his hips against the bed to appease his attention-deprived cock.

"You're… so amazing," you panted, "I— fuck! Oh god, I can't remember the last time someone—"

You never finished your thought, because he started fucking you with his tongue and you were too busy moaning his name, but he couldn't believe what a waste it was that nobody was eating this pussy on a regular basis.

"Gonna— oh fuck, yes, gonna come," you warned, "I… I'm gonna come so fucking hard…"

You started shaking, and he started fighting to keep you as still as he could so his work wouldn't be interrupted.  For a second he wondered if you were already coming or not— but then you made this noise, and your cunt clamped down on his tongue, and you cried out his name; it was perfect, it was the most beautiful moment he could ever imagine.

When it became too much, you went from tugging his hair to pushing him away with it, and he grinned up at you with a breathy laugh.  “Fuck, baby,” you whimpered, and he saw the tear streaks on your temples and cheeks.  He traced one with his thumb before kissing you again— deep and hungry, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

He hummed when your hands reached down to work on getting his pants off— eager and shaky, he certainly related to that.  As soon as your hand wrapped around his cock, he moaned, just from that.  He was almost embarrassed about it, until you bit his lip in playful encouragement.  "Does that feel good?" you purred.

"Yeah— your hands are better than mine," he laughed breathlessly.  

"How about this?" you raised an eyebrow, swiping your thumb over his slit, and he groaned as he rocked into your touch.

"God, baby…" he groaned.  As good as it felt, he found the strength to grab you by both your wrists and pin them down by your head.  You grinned, struggling just a bit, and moaned as he slid his cock against your soaking pussy.

“Don’t tease me,” you begged, “feels like I’ve been waiting forever.”

But he wasn’t teasing you— he was psyching himself up.

Believe it or not, he actually felt pretty nervous about this part.  Not for a lack of experience— for the entirely opposite reason.  Dieter had been with a lot of people, and for the most part, it was all… the same.  It all blended together— he only remembered those people from when he was a kid because he was a kid, and his romantic encounters were so few and far between.  He could remember details of his various partners from the last few years— Crystal who had a clit piercing, Marvin who begged to be choked, Cameron who seemed to enjoy giving him a blowjob even more than he enjoyed receiving it— but this, the actual sex, it was generally pretty interchangeable.  

So, he was worried that after all that build-up, after all the yearning and fantasizing and talking, that this would be the end of it being special— and you would just turn into a hook-up with a slightly more interesting backstory than the rest.  

As valid as that fear was, it was far from enough to stop him now, not when you were looking up at him and tightening your fists as he kept you pinned and silently begging for him with your eyes.

He had to let go of one of your hands to guide himself inside, but he interlaced the other with your fingers while he did it— and then, with one strong push, he was fully within you.

“Oh my god,” he gasped, “you feel… different.”

You raised an eyebrow, chuckling a little.  “Uh, different than what?”

Than everyone else.  “I— I don’t know,” he breathed, “I’m not making sense.”

“Not really,” you agreed with a laugh.

“Hard to think straight right now,” he defended.

It wasn’t just that you felt different— it was that this felt different: being with someone he really cared about, that he wanted to impress, that he wanted to see after this was over.

Someone that he never wanted to let go of.

“You feel so fucking perfect,” you whimpered, “fuck, don’t stop— feels so good—”

One of the benefits of making you come on his tongue first was that he knew it wouldn't be that bad if he didn't last too long now— though that wasn't why he did it.  In fact, this was rarely his issue, if anything sometimes he struggled to finish for unclear reasons.

But even if he could get away with finishing quickly, he wanted to make this last as long as he could.  He never wanted this to end, actually.

As he found his pace— not too speedy yet, but with a bit of his eagerness showing— he kissed you again, deeply and hungrily.  He wondered if he'd ever done this before: kissing during sex.  He felt like he probably had, and yet he couldn't remember it— maybe that said more than anything.

This, on the other hand, was very memorable.  He slid his arms under you when your back arched, he held you tight and close and drank in every one of your moans through that kiss.

For how many times he’d pictured fucking you, he never really imagined it like this… and he thought he’d imagined it every way before.  But he realized that he’d mostly imagined it a bit kinker— you riding him, or him fucking you while you were bent over the table in his room, or 69’ing or something.  This was passionate, and sorta slow; this was his hips grinding on yours with every thrust so he could keep rubbing your sore clit; this was making love, he realized— if it wasn’t, he couldn’t imagine what was.

“I— fuck, baby— think I’m gonna come again,” you warned him with the most beautiful whiny sob.

“Fuck, already?” he smiled, and you nodded feverishly.  

“Just… don’t stop, please, just like that— fuuuuck!” you choked, and he gasped every time your walls clenched down on him.

“You’re so fucking perfect, fuck,” he grunted, moving a bit faster and not letting up on the pressure from his pubic bone on your clit, even when you actually screamed under him.  “You’re so amazing, oh god, I—”

He heard it before he said it: I think I love you.  He stopped himself before blurting it out— maybe he’d tell you after, but he wasn’t so far gone to forget that this wasn’t the right time.  You’d think he didn’t really mean it, that it was just the delirium talking from how incredible you felt, but he knew it was so much more than that.

He shut himself up by kissing your neck— not too hard, but plenty to leave a mark, and make you squirm in the process.  Your hands wrapped around his back and your nails dug into his skin, but he couldn’t even feel the pain of it, he couldn’t feel anything but the sticky, resplendent heat of your body.

“So much fucking better than the goddamn dildos,” you said suddenly, and he laughed against your skin.  

“Do you miss all those people watching you come?” he wondered.

“No, fuck no,” you panted, “there’s nobody else but you.”

He couldn’t help but fuck you faster when you said that— you should’ve known better than to stroke his ego that way.

“Fuck!” you sobbed.  “Hector, baby, you’re so— oh god, I don’t know if I can take it—”

“Shh, you can,” he promised, “you can do anything, you can come for me again—”

“Oh fuck, I— I might,” you admitted shakily, “but then I’ll— I’ll fucking pass out or something.”

“No, you’ll be okay,” he promised, cooing at you softly.  “You’ll be so good for me, I know you will— just come for me one more time, baby, tell me what you need to come again.”

“I… just a little time is all I need,” you answered, voice breaking.  “I swear I’ve never— I’m not usually so— fuck, it’s just you—”

“I know,” he assured, loving the way you babbled praises but worried it would distract you from coming again; and if you didn’t soon, there wouldn’t be time before he lost it.  He was already barely able to keep his composure just from how beautiful you looked like this, let alone how you felt.  “I know, just let it happen, I know it’s right there for me— just come for me, beautiful—”

You dragged him down into a sloppy kiss, and he felt it— those incredible pulses inside you, waves of slick coating him until he felt sticky all the way down his thighs; your sobs were more precious than anything he’d ever heard.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he praised, fucking you even faster now as your head fell back limply.  “I can’t h-hold back anymore, I need to—”

“I know,” you said to him this time, “it’s okay, please— want you to…”

“You still— oh my god…” he choked, losing his train of thought for a moment.  “You still want me to come inside you?  Wanna be full?”

“Yes,” you whined, “yes, baby, please— wanna be so full of your come, I want everything—”

"Fuck, okay," he agreed, gasping as he tried to keep up his pace despite the growing pressure inside.  "I'm really fucking close…”

“I’m yours,” you told him again— and then he went from ‘really fucking close’ to ‘already fucking there’.  He came inside you with a long, whimpered groan; his head dropped onto your shoulder while each pump filled you, trying to catch his breath but feeling like he’d never find it again.

Admitting he loved you during sex wasn’t a good idea, but saying it immediately after wasn’t that much of an improvement.  Now, though, he was too exhausted to keep his mouth shut.  “I think I love you,” he blurted out suddenly.

For one incredibly long second, you didn’t react at all.  You looked up at him, and he hesitated to even look back because he didn’t want to see anything less than ecstasy on your face.  “Oh,” you said, “cool.”

He wasn’t sure what reaction he anticipated, good or bad, but it wasn’t that.

“Let me know when you know,” you suggested.

“No!  No— I know,” he insisted, reaching up to hold your face, “I know.  I love you.  I think I did even before you came here, but… it just seemed so crazy.  We don’t know each other as well as we should for that, right?  But I feel it— I feel something that I just can’t explain—”

“Hey, slow down,” you laughed, “I feel it too.”

The way you smiled at him, resting your hand on his chest— was he glowing?  He felt like he was actually glowing.  “Good,” he decided.

“Let’s get to know each other better, then,” you announced.  “Start from the beginning, the whole thing: parents, siblings, school, favorite movies, worst dates, hot dogs or hamburgers—”

“No, you start,” he pouted, “you’re more interesting.”

“Me?  Please, I’m just your average camgirl titty streamer, don’t worry about it,” you scoffed.

“And I’m just some lame old Oscar winner,” he shrugged.

But both of you talked— all night, actually.  You never fell asleep, he was never even that tired— you kept him so full of energy he didn’t even notice how long it had been until the sun started to come up.  And then you kept talking at breakfast.  And then you fucked again, and talked some more after; he knew it had to end, eventually, but he didn’t even want to think about it.  He didn’t want to think about you going home and letting something so perfect end.

He told you just as much on the last night— assuming you didn’t switch your flight home to a later day again.  You’d just been laying in his arms after another bout of passionately desperate fucking, both of you half-asleep but not wanting the separation of even just unconsciousness, and he blurted it out.

“Don’t leave,” he pleaded under his breath.  “I don’t want you to go.”

“I know you don’t,” you returned softly.  

“I don’t want this to end.”

You were quiet for a while, turning over on your side to face him, tracing your fingers over his chest gently.  “It doesn’t have to end, just because I leave,” you mumbled.  “I know it’s crazy, but we can be together, even if we’re not… together.  I mean, I’m certainly not gonna be with anybody else—”

“Me either,” he said quickly, before he could change his own mind with the doubts— the voice in his head that said he could never settle down because he’s too fucked up.  “I only want you.”

“It’ll suck, being far away from each other— but you’ll be back Stateside eventually, right?” you assumed.

“God, I hope so,” he sighed, “if the world doesn’t end.”

“If it does,” you whispered, moving in closer, “I hope it’s tonight.  I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else but here.”

It was a romantic thought, but as he kissed you, he realized he’d never wanted the world to end less than he did right now.  He never longed for an apocalypse or anything, even on nights that his doubts and anxieties made him yearn for oblivion just for himself, but just now he could’ve cried thinking about everything falling apart tonight.  Whether it be by fiery explosion or a quiet, instant disappearance, he couldn’t let armageddon happen now— now that he had you.  For the first time, he saw himself having a future, in a way he never had before.  Existing as a ‘celebrity’ meant being on the edge of irrelevance at any moment, knowing this could all go away overnight and you’d just be ‘that guy who was in that thing that one time’.  

But this time, he stood on a precipice of something wonderful, of something natural, and it was the most beautifully terrifying unknown.  It was tomorrow.  Tomorrow, you’d get on the plane; tomorrow, you’d leave, because the world wasn’t going to end tonight.  But his life was going to start tonight, and he didn’t have to face it alone anymore.

Update: How To Keep Seeing My Smuts & Other Writers'

As per Tumblr's New "Community Label" Update

Hello! I've seen other writers make a post about the new update, so I wanted to make one of mine to notify my readers.

As you may know, Tumblr is pushing a Community Label update in which users are allowed to filter the content they want to see. While this is highly beneficial for those who want to avoid seeing content they aren't fond of, this can make you stop seeing the smuts a lot of writers in this community create.

If you want to keep enjoying our smuts:

For Website:

Go to Dashboard Settings, and click the Show circle in the Community Labels section on Mature content. Do the same for Sexual themes. You can choose whether to tick the options of the other choices or not.

Image taken from @writerpeach <3

For Mobile:

Go to Account Settings, then choose Content you see.

Go to the Community Labels section and click the arrow beside Hide on Mature. Then, click Show for both Mature and Sexual themes. Again, it is your choice if you want to tick the Show button for the other choices.

Thank you for reading, and reblog to spread the word!

𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮 - Osferth (The Last Kingdom)

honestly, got this idea from that one episode of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air that absolutely broke me and made me revisit my abandonment issues. so yeah, this is gonna be sad. i apologize in advance🤷🏻‍♀️(p.s. don't read this while listening to hurt by Christina Aguilera or because of you by Kelly Clarkson)

Warnings: spoilers for TLK (obvi, and for Death Of Kings), angst, hurt/comfort, daddy & abandonment issues (like same, i kin osferth honestly), Alfred was a great king but a shitty father (in the show at least), kinda bittersweet

word count | 2.3k🤙🏻

You all stood in king Aethelred’s throne room, watching King Alfred and your leader Uhtred discuss battle plans. It all sounded very important but all you could watch was how Osferth’s lips turned into a frown as his father embraced his daughter, Aethelflaed. He looked like a kicked puppy and all you could do was glare at the King with disdain.

You hadn’t been in this team of Lord Uhtred for very long, but long enough to know that you cared deeply for each one of your companions and would give your life for any one of them, but especially Osferth. You were there when he first introduced himself, so shy and soft spoken, wanting to be like his uncle. So to see him so sullen made you want to drive your blade into the King’s skull.

You never understood why being a bastard was bad, but everyone said it like it was one of the worst things you could be, especially if you were a bastard of a king. Osferth was always introduced as a bastard first, never as a warrior or one of Uhtred’s men, always just King Alfred’s bastard. It didn’t sit right with you, and it clearly made him uncomfortable. You tried to never think of him as Alfred’s bastard, just your friend. Osferth was the sweetest person in the world, so how on earth would anyone ever give him away? You saw how it affected him, even if he didn’t show it. You saw how he looked at Edward and Aethelflaed, that envy and longing. He just wanted to be loved and accepted, and Alfred took that from him. You had no respect for the king.

Osferth couldn’t even be in the presence of Edward, his half brother, having to quietly excuse himself. You couldn’t let him go on his own. Ever since you met the boy, you’ve had an overwhelming urge to keep him safe, always anxious whenever he was out of sight. You felt bad for still wanting to protect him, knowing he’s proven himself time and time again that he can defend himself. It was hard to not to think back to the time when he cried when he killed his first man. War makes you desensitized, whether that was a good thing or not.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly once you caught up with him.

“Mhm.” He hummed, his eyes not meeting yours.

You frowned. “You don’t have to lie to me, Osferth. I thought we were closer than that.”

“It’s not that.” He sighed, resting his hands inside his leather chest armor, a cute quirk he got into the habit of doing. “I just don't want to waste my breath on him…”

“It’s okay to have feelings about it, you know? You don’t have to keep it all bottled inside, not around me.”

Osferth did continue to keep his feelings bottled up since that day, and it made you upset that he was just suffering in silence. Your worrying became even worse after the battle where you all fought against Haesten’s army, your baby monk getting harmed in the process. Thankfully, the damage wasn’t too bad but he’d be out of fighting for a while so he could heal. You made no qualms when you were tasked with taking care of him at his half sister’s estate, you tried to do that all the time anyway. You still wanted him to open up to you, but you didn’t want to push him. You weren’t a bastard but you understood what it was like to not have a parent want you, you knew what complicated and conflicting feelings came along with it. He didn’t have to be alone in his struggle.

Osferth made no mention of the conversation you had with him that day, only thanking you and expressing apologies whenever you helped him around his injuries (although he made a habit of calling Finan a slave). You tried not to speak of it, not wanting to upset him, especially when he was healing from his physical wounds. You could see how exhausted he was, how his once bright blue eyes dimmed with pain. He was more irritable, uncharacteristically so, to the point even Finan was tired of taking care of him. You could see he was hurting, but you didn’t know how or when to bring it up.

It seemed all those suppressed emotions came to a head one day, a loud crash being heard throughout the building, coming from Osferth’s room. You took off in that direction, seeing a disheveled Finan right outside the boy’s door. “What the hell is going on?” You asked.

“I made a joke, just teasing, then the lad went off like an absolute nutter.” Finan huffed, “I was trying to give him some water but he threw it back at me and it broke.” You made a move to walk into the room, but he put his arm out to stop you. “I wouldn’t. I’d just let him be for now, until he calms down at least.”

“Come on, it’s not like he’s going to hurt me, Finan.” You pushed his arm out of the way and promptly entered the bedroom.

You almost expected the room to be in ruins, but all that looked out of place was the shattered pottery that once held water scattered on the floor. And Osferth, sitting with his back turned to the door on his bed, his head hanging low. “Sorry Finan, I didn’t mean to get so upset…” Osferth whispered softly, turning his head to only see you and not the Irishman. “Oh, uh, didn’t know it was you.”

You smiled weakly, coming to sit next to him. “It’s okay, but are you?”

Osferth shrugged, a slight blush coming to his face at your close proximity. “He just made a joke about me being…ya know. He does it all the time so I don’t know why I got so mad. He’s not angry with me, is he?”

You shook your head. “No. He seemed like he kind of felt bad, this time, at least…Ever since that day at Aethelred’s estate, you’ve not been yourself. I know you haven’t been showing it, but I can feel that you’re upset. I think talking to someone might help, it doesn’t have to be me obviously, but someone. Maybe Sihtric? Since he’s-” You were interrupted by the sounds of soft sniffles and whimpers, your brows immediately furrowing in concern as soon as you saw Osferth’s pained expression. “Osferth?” You whispered softly, cautiously reaching out to hold his hand, afraid to scare him away.

“I hate feeling this way.” He sniffled, using his other hand to angrily wipe away a couple fallen tears. “Alfred never even tried to talk to me, never. As soon as I was born, he forced me into the monastery. I’ve never known anything else, so why do I feel this way? How can I miss something I’ve never had? Even now, I’m nothing to him. I’ve never been anything but a burden to him…”

“You are anything but a burden, Osferth.” You spoke sternly, anger welling up inside you at Alfred for making your best friend feel that way.

“But I am! I’m an embarrassment. That’s the only reason Lord Uhtred even let me join him in the first place. All to embarrass the…king.” He spat.

“Osferth…”

“Why doesn’t he want me?” Osferth cried, his tears falling off his cheeks onto your hands that held his on his lap. The pain in his voice even made you tear up, and all you wanted to do was wrap him up in your arms and never let him go. I want you, I want you more than anything in the world, you wanted to say. But all you did was squeeze his hand tighter and pulled him onto your chest, holding the back of his head and running your fingers through his hair soothingly.

“You are not a burden.” You whispered into his hair, pulling him to you as close as humanly possible. “Not to me, not to Uhtred, not to anyone. Anyone who even thinks that will meet the end of my blade. Alfred is a fool to not see your worth and if I could, I’d cut off his head without remorse.”

Osferth quickly shushed you, bringing his hand up to cup your jaw hesitantly. “Such talk is treason.”

“You’re worth it, Osferth.” You spoke with such sincerity it made the pale boy blush, his tears cascading down over his pink cheeks made such a beautifully sad portrait, his eyes a stark blue from crying. You couldn’t help but lean forward and gently kiss the wrinkle in between his eyebrows. “You’ll always be worth it to me.” You took a deep breath, your heart hammering inside your ribcage. “Unlike Alfred…I’ll never abandon you, baby monk. Even in death, you wouldn’t be rid of me.”

Osferth chuckled tearfully, looking up at you in awe. “You’re an angel, you know that?”

Now it was your turn to blush, but you gently shook your head. “I do not.”

“You are. It’s because of you I know God exists. How could He not when such a woman as you is sitting before me?” Your breath catches, a fluttering feeling rattling around in your stomach as you and Osferth look into each other’s eyes. “Can I…can I kiss you, my lady?” He stuttered, a hopeful expression on his face.

“Please…” You whispered in reply, both of you leaning forward and capturing his lips with yours.

And you decided to stay with him that night, refusing to leave his side even when he said he was feeling better. You held him in your arms, allowing his head to rest against your chest, the sound of your soothing heartbeat lulling him to sleep.

Eventually when the death of King Alfred was announced, it didn’t shock anyone; he was frail and sickly and should have died a long time ago, but that didn’t make it hurt any less for anyone. He was called great for a reason, he was loved and respected by many, even his enemies. His family were devastated, his friends, his allies, even those like Uhtred who were reluctant in following him at first. Except you, you had difficulty finding any sympathy in your heart for really one reason only: Osferth.

You had no respect or shroud of kindness for the king in life, so why would you in death? All you cared about was Osferth and how he felt.

You thought back to all the times you’d walk in on Osferth crying, always quick to wipe away his tears like he never was crying in the first place. He was so quick in concealing his emotions that anyone else never would’ve noticed, but you always did. After being with Alfred in the throne room, when he looked so relieved that his daughter was safe, Osferth would excuse himself. Whenever Uhtred had discussions with Edward or Aethelflaed, he would do the exact same thing. You knew he had to be feeling something towards his father’s death, whether he would admit it or not. You just wanted to be there for him if he needed you.

Like any king’s death, the aftermath was chaos. You all had to worry for Uhtred for a while there, but everything turned out alright in the end. People were celebrating the new King Edward’s coronation, drinking and humping the night away, but Osferth was nowhere to be found. You had asked your boys if they had seen him anywhere, but no one knew and all Finan did was joke that he might be finally losing his virginity. Not that helpful.

You finally found him sitting against one of the walls of the town, drinking a pint of ale. His lips instinctively upturned in a brief smile when he saw you walking his way, though his eyes looked weary. “What are you doing all the way out here, huh?” You asked softly, crouching down to sit next to him, causally taking a sip from his mug.

Osferth shrugged. “Just thinking.”

“Oh, yeah? About what?” You reached over and interlaced your fingers with his, smiling when he brought your hand up to kiss your knuckles.

“Before Alfred died…I visited him.” He exhaled shakily, and you couldn’t help but gasp.

“What did he say?” You asked curiously, but also dreading the answer just in case.

Osferth smiled sadly, tears already welling up in his eyes. “He apologized to me, that it was his fault for me being the way that I am…said he’d put in a good word for me when he got to heaven.” He chuckled weakly, wiping away some of his fallen tears. “He said I was a good man…that he was proud of me, called me his son.”

You teared up at his confession, squeezing his hand tighter. “And…did that make you feel better? Was it closure?”

Osferth’s bottom lip trembled, nodding his head, turning to look at you with a tearful crooked smile. “It was…but I didn’t need to hear it from him to know I’m a good man. I am. You showed me that better than he ever could.”

You smiled bashfully. “Oh, Osferth, you flatter me. But I am glad you made your peace with him, even if it came late.” You kissed his hand as well, moving closer so you could lean your shoulder against his. “Really, my love, are you okay?” You asked seriously, only to receive a sweet kiss on your cheek, causing heat to bloom in your chest in contrast to the cold temperature.

“I am sad, but I’ve lived without my father my entire life. I’ll be okay, especially when you’re right here with me. It’s only you who I need by my side. It’s you I wouldn’t be able to live without.”

“Good, because I don’t plan on leaving you any time soon, my baby monk."

literally wish he and alfred had more screen time TOGETHER, and curse the writers for not including their talk before alfred died. seriously.

The second circle of hell is my new obsession. Literally feeding us both Osferth content (baby monk needs some love) and giving us the delicious corruption kink and religious guilt😩🥵. Absolutely loved it 11/10! Absolutely brilliant

Lmao we love that good ol' religious guilt. I'm so glad you enjoyed it💕💕💕 I enjoyed writing it😉😂

hi love, just wanted you to know that your "rocking the boat" fic is literally what's keeping tom's nation alive rn, some of my followers on tiktok confirmed this. we need you to write more if you're okay with it and you want to, please 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 I'm literally begging you, whatever you want I'm sure you'll come up with smth good, we're desperate...

omg thank you so much🥺💕💕💕, the idea that i'm keeping something alive is stressful lmao, like remembering to water a plant (which i'm awful at). But I appreciate it nonetheless! More people need to write about Tom for real, he's a precious little menace

I'm sure I'll write more for him eventually, it's just a matter of coming up with something and finding the motivation to actually write it out lmao