- Osferth (The Last Kingdom)

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.

𝐈𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 - Aemond Targaryen

hoe hoe hoe, heathens. merry Christmas to those who celebrate!!🎄 it's horny Santa here to gift y'all some very merry Christmas smut. for all those sinners who get too horny at the most inappropriate times, like Christmas lmao

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI, and people who've been on the Santa's nice list), masturbation, mutual masturbation, praise kink, bit of dom/sub vibes (if you squint), scratching, verrrry fluffy

word count | 2.1k🤙🏻

You were horny beyond belief. You felt like you were going to die if you didn’t have some sort of stimulation. Surely, you were going to be flooding beneath your nightgown if you got any more turned on. 

You wanted to be fucked and filled, you craved pleasure, pain, aches, everything. You craved Aemond, but Aemond wasn’t there.

It had been too long since you and your husband had sex, or seen each other. He had been gone for a few days, off with Vhagar on some mission for his mother. He wasn’t in any danger, but you still worried for him. And most of all, you missed how his cock filled and stretched you. You missed having him whisper sweet nothings in your ear as he bruised your cervix with how deeply he fucked you. You missed the ache in between your legs and how hoarse your voice was after he made you scream and yell in pleasure. 

Gods, you were hopeless.

It always came the strongest late at night. In you and Aemond’s shared bed, feeling his absence and his scent slowly disappearing. You often held onto his pillow, smelling the perfumed oils and products he always put in his lavish hair. You squeezed your thighs together, thrusting against nothing to try and get some friction, thinking about Aemond’s breath on your neck and his soft moans that always managed to give you goosebumps. You had always had difficulty getting yourself to climax by yourself, eventually your hand giving out from exertion and cramping, making your attempts to get to the peak futile. It was only Aemond who could get you there, and he knew that, always coming in with a smug smirk after being away from you for however many days knowing you were in agony without him there to help you. You were completely dependent on him to make you come. But tonight was just one of those nights when you had to do something about your aching desire.

You kicked off the covers of the bed, slowly lifting your shift until it reached just above your pelvis. You were so wet, only slightly running over your slit with your index finger once, holding it up to find it shimmering from the light of the fireplace. You laid your head back against your pillow, shutting your eyes and picturing Aemond’s face in your mind. You rubbed slow circles on your clit, gasping softly at the stimulation, imagining your husband smirking down at you and playfully chiding you for already being so sensitive. Even when he wasn’t with you physically, he still had you like putty in the palm of his hand. 

You moaned as you pushed two of your fingers inside of yourself, letting out a disappointed whine as your fingers weren’t nearly as thick and long as your husband’s cock was. It wasn’t enough, but you fucked yourself anyway, switching between teasing your entrance and your clit. “Fuck.” You whined, choosing to spend all your energy on your sensitive nub, for you knew that was the only possible way you could get off by yourself. 

“Aemond.” You gasped as a deep pang of pleasure shot through your core. Okay, so you were finally getting somewhere after several minutes of touching yourself. You finally had hope you could get yourself there for once. You kept delving deeper into your imagination, pretending it was Aemond touching you this way. It made you feel so much better picturing your husband, letting out a silent cry as you sped up the ministrations on your clit. Saying his name helped too, causing goosebumps to raise along your body. “Aemond…” You kept repeating.

“Yes, my darling?”

You let out a surprised yelp as your eyes shot open instantly, seeing your husband very much there at the end of your bed, smirking darkly with a glint in his eye. “You’re home? I didn’t hear you come in.” You stuttered, your face heating up like a furnace.

“I tried to enter as quietly as possible, I feared I’d wake you…but it seems you’re already wide awake, behaving like a bitch in heat no less.” The teasing comment only made you throb, biting the inside of your lip to keep yourself from moaning. “Missed me that much, hmm?”

You hummed in agreement, the noise coming out desperate and whiny. “You have no idea.”

Aemond took a seat at the edge of the bed, one leg propped up on the mattress and the other dangling over the side. He took off his eyepatch, the light from the fireplace making the sapphire gem sparkle. He laid his eye on you, scanning over your body until coming back to look at your needy expression. “Well, my darling, don’t let me interrupt you.”

“But…don’t you want to help me out?” You giggled nervously, wincing as your body thrummed for attention, your skin hot to the touch.

“Why would I do that when you’ve put on such a pretty show for me?”

“But you know I can rarely make myself…ya know, without your help. I need you so bad, my prince.” You went to reach for his trousers but he quickly slapped your hand away.

“You’re going to try for me. Maybe if you make yourself come, I’ll fuck you as a reward. Sound good to you?” He smirked. You exhaled shakily, and continued to rub your clit. “Slowly.” He instructed, and you obeyed him diligently. “That’s a good girl.” The praise went straight to your clit. Maybe this would be easier than you thought it would be?

“Aemond.” You whined as he rubbed his hand up and down your thigh, getting so close to where you were touching yourself but never quite reaching it.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m right here.” Yeah, and he wasn’t doing anything. Only then did you see he was starting to palm himself through his trousers, a very prominent bulge stressing against the fabric. You watched unwaveringly as he pulled his cock out of his pants, hearing him groan softly as he slowly pumped himself while watching you as well. “You’re not the only one who missed you, you know? I never stopped thinking about you on that tedious mission. My cock got so hard just thinking about you like this. Touching yourself, missing me, wishing I was here to fuck you so hard you’d keep the whole palace up with your screams.”

“Yes, Aemond, please.” You begged, speeding up your hand movements (with his permission) along with his, your pleasure getting more intense as your husband watched you. “Gods, I’ve wanted you so bad.”

“Fuck.” Aemond growled, briefly throwing his head back in pleasure. “Keep wanting me a little bit longer for me, okay? I want to watch you come undone on your fingers.” You keened as he grabbed one of your breasts, squeezing roughly, the feeling of his skin on yours electrifying. “Gods, you’re so beautiful. How lucky am I to be able to call you mine?”

“My husband…my beautiful husband.” You smiled, biting your lip as you writhed on the bed.

Aemond’s cock twitched in his hand as he watched you intently, focusing on the way your fingers moved against yourself, coating the digits in your slick to make the feeling even more pleasurable. He ran his hand up from your breast to your collarbone, up your neck and prodded at your lips until you opened them for him. He moaned in approval as you sucked on his long fingers, pulling them back out and using your saliva to rub circles on your nipples, your back arching slightly as your sensitivity was dialed up to eleven.

Aemond smirked as he saw your telltale signs that you were close to your climax, your breathing erratic and your moans coming out more strained and high pitched. “My pretty girl, are you going to come for me?” He asked as he pinched your nipples roughly, eliciting a cry from your lips.

“Yes, my love.” You panted, trying your best to force your eyes open to keep them trained on his face, the visage making your pleasure all the more intense. “Please, please…” You whispered, willing your hand to keep up its movements and for your orgasm to overtake you. Aemond ran his hand all over you, gripping whenever he could while still touching himself, his soft moans filling your ears and making your whole body feel weightless. You almost let out a sob as you were right there, right at that precipice. “Can I come, my prince?” You begged, your free hand holding onto Aemond’s tightly.

“Yes, come for me, my pretty girl."

“Aemond!” You cried as your orgasm finally washed over you, your whole body tensing and contracting as the waves of euphoria slammed down and knocked the breath out of you, your legs spasming around your drenched fingers.

“Gevie.” Aemond whispered soothingly, caressing your face as you came down from your high, placing feather light kisses to your hand that was still holding his.

“I want you to finish inside me, my prince.” You spoke breathlessly, still trying to catch your breath. “I need you, my love. I need to feel you.”

Aemond hummed, planting a kiss on your lips. “Who would I be to deny my lovely wife, who’s always so obedient to her husband?”

You gasped as Aemond turned you on your side facing him, situating himself on his side as well, pulling your hips forwards until you could feel his cock gently rub at your slit. He held your leg up as he slowly pushed himself inside you, both of you moaning in unison. Finally, the desire to be filled was achieved, so much better than your fingers. Aemond’s cock always stretched you just the right way, never failing to rub against that sweet spot that made you shudder and your toes curl. He had never had you in this position before, it felt almost as intimate as it did when he was on top of you. You both cuddled into each other, keeping eye contact as you gently rocked together, wrapping your legs against his waist to keep him as close as possible.

“I missed you, Aemond.” You whispered, cupping his jaw and placing a kiss on the tip of his nose, watching as his eye closed contently with a small smile.

“As I you, my love.” His breath hitched as you clenched around him, a soft purr escaping his lips as he involuntarily bucked against you. “If it were up to me, I’d have you like this all day and all night. You’d never leave my bed.”

“I think I’d quite enjoy that.” You giggled, your eyebrows then furrowing and your mouth opening in a silent cry as Aemond rutted against you rougher, his grip on your hips surely leaving bruises with how tight his hold on you was. “All I need is you. You’re all I ever need or want. No one makes me feel the way you make me feel.”

Aemond growled as he flipped you on your back, pinning you to the bed as he fucked you fast and hard, his primal urges taking over as you spoke your loving words. “Gods, I love you.” He moaned, burying his face in your neck as his cock bruised your cervix, hitting the ends of you over and over until you were sobbing.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, don’t stop!” You cried, digging your nails into his back, hearing him hiss as you created angry red marks that would remain there for a while, not that he would mind. He loved getting marked by you, it reminded him that he was yours and you were his, the way it always should be.

Aemond moaned loudly, his cock twitching inside you as his thrusts became more wild and erratic, feeling his teeth dig into the sensitive skin of your neck. “You feel so good, pretty girl. Do you want my cum, love?”

“Yes, I want it. I need it, my beautiful prince. Give it to me.” You begged, pulling him as close to you as humanly possible. Aemond let out a low, rumbly groan as he stilled inside you, painting your velvety walls with his thick cum, thrusting it deeper and deeper inside you, not pulling out even when he was entirely spent.

After a minute of catching his breath, Aemond carefully turned the both of you on your side like you both had been previously, keeping his cock inside you and wrapping his arms around you, a content smile on his face. “I apologize for making you wait so long.” He spoke softly, kissing the top of your head.

You leaned up to kiss the underside of his jaw, burying your head in his toned chest. “It was worth it.” You chuckled, letting out a satisfied sigh, closing your eyes and breathing Aemond in. “Just keep holding me like this.”

“I wouldn’t dream of ever letting you go, my love.”

sorry this was a bit short, i've been so very busy this holiday season as most are i'd assume. i'm exhausted lmao

𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 - Aemond Targaryen

FINE. FINE. Fuck sake, fine. Jeezus christ, y'all are like rabid dogs😂 Alright, this is the only time I'll give in to peer pressure lmao. I tried to make this just as fucked up as the last one so here ya go. Please mind the warnings.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), NONCON, Dark!Aemond, incest, painful loss of virginity, sadism, humiliation, breeding kink, violence, slapping, choking, bad bad Aemond

word count | 3.2K🤙🏻

part one | part three

Pain; the first feeling you felt when you woke up. And wind, strong wind. The smell of rain...and dragon.

Your vision was hazy, the left side completely black, void, empty. You could barely see your surroundings. You could sense the clouds passing by, flying through them. You could see a large wingspan on a dragon, so it certainly wasn't yours. What was going on?

Then you heard him, his laugh, and it all came flooding back to you so hard a migraine shot through your skull. You groaned, attempting to reach your hand to your head, only to find it restrained. You tried to speak, but you were quickly shushed. "It's okay, niece, we're almost home." Home...Dragonstone? But before you could ask, you blacked out once again.

Aemond couldn't wait to get you all to himself. After your lovely performance at Storm's End, he decided he couldn't restrain himself any longer. Ever since seeing how you grew up into a fine lady, he decided he had to have you.

Before he would've killed you without hesitation, you were just a bastard after all, would be of little consequence. But he always wanted that moment to be special, in battle perhaps? He thought over and over how he'd do it. He would take both your eyes first, cutting off your head and presenting it to his family on a silver platter, and making your eyes into gifts for his mother. But now, he had much greater plans for you. All that was left was for you to finally wake up.

Aemond perked up immediately after hearing you stir in your sleep, the size of his bed making you look almost as small as a child. Though you, you had no recollection of how you managed to be where you were. It wasn't your bed, your room, it didn't even look like anywhere in Dragonstone. The smell was entirely different as well, you couldn't smell the sea anymore. That pain in your skull was still there, it hadn't dimmed since when you felt it. You wondered if it would ever go away.

The room was warm, a lit fireplace coating the area with orange and yellow hues, only accentuating the already golden walls. Then you finally recognized it, that faint metallic smell mixed with wine and musk. You were in King's Landing.

You tried to sit up in the bed you were in, only for a sharp piercing pain to shoot through your entire body and force you to lay still. The throbbing in your head was almost unbearable, you could hear the thumping in your ears, so loud you almost didn't notice the sound of a chair moving closer to you.

Tears came to your eye as soon as you saw your uncle sitting across from you, a smug smirk on his face as he looked over your weak form. "The worst of it only lasts for about three days. The pain started to dull after that."

You frowned, your throat tightening and trying to keep in a sob threatening to escape. "I did what you wanted, uncle. I gave you an eye. I paid my debt, so why am I here?"

Aemond chuckled darkly. "Yes. Yes, you did. But you owed that debt ever since you took your blade to my eye all those years ago, that was just between us. We're at war now, who would I be if I just allowed a traitor to try and take my brother's throne? You're lucky my brother, the King, didn't execute you as soon as I brought you here. It's what you would've deserved."

You felt an all consuming anger fill you, if you had the strength you would have taken your uncle's remaining eye. "I'm not the one who's a traitor. Prince Aegon is the one who usurped the throne. My mother, the Queen, will have each and every one of your family's heads for this treachery."

"Hmm." He smiled. "We shall see. Until then, you remain our hostage. Let's see how much your mother cares about you more than the throne."

A week. It had been a week of playing hostage for the Greens, no sign of your mother coming to rescue you. No sign of hope. You really should've just left Storm's End as soon as you saw that Aemond was there too, now you were at his mercy. You were treated as though he had brought a stray home, only able to keep it if he was the one to take care of it. It was dehumanizing, you just hoped your dragon was treated better than you.

You could never get a read on Aemond, not even when he was a child. You felt like you were chained to a rabid animal, not knowing if or when he was going to lash out. You felt his anger just beneath the surface of his otherwise calm and collected exterior, only seeing glimpses of what you could be exposed to whenever you talked back to him disrespectfully, his eye lighting up with malice and eagerness that he never expressed but it always chilled you to the bone to see it. It was the same look he gave you when you allowed him to take your eye, a dangerous playfulness that you would never want to explore.

One silver lining was that your uncle was right, the pain from your lost eye dimmed slightly. There were now times in your day when you felt like you wouldn't throw up from the pain anymore. You had your own living quarters, albeit with a many number of locks and bars on the door so you wouldn't escape, like you even could in your state.

It was always a roulette game whenever it came to if Aemond would visit you or not. If not the servants, he would be the one to bring you food. Sometimes he'd just show up unannounced and you were left wondering if it was finally time to die at his hands. You were constantly on edge, almost wishing you could go ahead and die already. Put an end to your suffering and your mother's hesitance on what she should do about you. You just wanted some pin to drop, you hated waiting and wondering what would happen, hated being afraid.

If you appreciated irony in awful situations, you would've thought the gods finally answered your prayers. It was night and you were restless, looking out at King's Landing on your balcony. You longed for your home, you missed your brothers, you missed your mother, you missed riding your dragon. You could faintly hear the calls of your dragon all the way from the Dragonpit, sad mewls that told you he felt the same.

"My brother says if your dragon doesn't quiet down he'll cut off his head and serve it to you."

You scowled as you heard Aemond's voice from behind you, the wind flowing through the tower not able to ever give you chills the way his voice managed to. "Then he'd be a dragon slayer as well as a usurper." You snarked, your knuckles turning pale as you gripped the balcony ledge tightly.

Your body froze as you suddenly felt warmth from behind you, trying to not let a shudder run through you as you felt Aemond's breath on your neck. "You surely are disrespectful for someone who's supposed to be our hostage." He voiced lowly, his tone making you dig your nails into your palms.

"I believe I have every right to be disrespectful to the cunts who kidnapped me." You smirked briefly as you thought how Daemon would be proud of you for saying that, but that smirk quickly got wiped off your face as your uncle turned you around harshly to force you to face him.

"Do you have a death wish, girl?" He seethed, one of his hands coming to gently grip your throat.

"Yes, kill me, uncle. That's what you've always wanted, right? My eye wasn't enough for you, was it? So, do it. Throw me off this tower, feed me to Vhagar, whatever you want. Just let me go. Let the war wage on so my family can kill yours." You spat in his face, just below his remaining eye.

He slowly wiped away the spit, his lips upturned in a sneer, staring down at you like he was actually considering it. You were almost shocked he didn't kill you right then and there, but what did was when he swiftly leaned forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You instantly pushed him away and landed a punch to his jaw, causing him to stumble back with a dark smirk. "No, I wouldn't kill you. Not yet, not until I've had my fun with you."

You didn't understand his meaning, thinking you must've knocked the sense out of hum, until he grabbed you roughly by your wrists, dragging you inside and throwing you on your bed. You tried to scurry away, but he grabbed your leg and yanked you back to him. "No, Aemond, stop-!" You shouted angrily, trying to kick at him, but he was too strong to get away from.

He chuckled, only amused by your resistance. "I've waited so long, I've been patient. Well, I'm finally exhausted of this game, dear niece. I'm going to fuck you, maybe you'll learn to respect me, respect all of us after I'm done with you."

Your eyes widened, your fight or flight instinct kicking in. You tried to flee, but that didn't work, so now you had to fight.

Aemond let out a pained grunt as you kicked him as hard as you could in his stomach, allowing a gap long enough to run to your doors, only to find them locked. "Help!" You screeched as you pound your fists on the wood, hoping and praying that someone would hear you. You screamed as Aemond grabbed you, dragging you back to your bed.

"Okay, that's enough of that." He spoke emotionlessly. You kept trying to fight him, only stopping when you suddenly felt a sharp pain shoot through your skull. He had slapped you, on your left side where your wound was still healing. It made everything turn dark for a brief moment, the ringing in your ears so loud you couldn't hear anything.

The world around you was blurry, the ringing subsiding enough that you could hear the fabric of your nightgown ripping down the center, exposing you to your uncle's view. You watched helplessly as he started to shed his clothing eagerly, his eye memorizing every curve and detail on your body. You started to cry as his cock sprung out of the confines of his trousers, the size only scaring you into thinking that it was going to split you in half. "Aemond...uncle, please." You begged, closing your legs as tightly as you could and covering your chest with your arms.

Aemond only smiled, easily kicking your legs apart and situating himself between them.

"Please, don't. I've never been with anyone, please."

"Oh, I know it, sweet niece. That's why I want to do this now, while you're still pure. Aegon has made his jokes about being the one to take your maidenhead, but I just couldn't have that. You're mine to claim, only mine." You gagged as he thrust his fingers into your mouth, trying to turn your head away. "Spit. Do it, or do you want your first time to be as painful as possible?" You finally relented, coating his fingers with your saliva, watching him bring it down to lube up his cock and your cunt, letting out a whimper as he lined himself up with your entrance.

You let out a loud sob as Aemond pushed into you, filling you to the hilt. The stretch was so painful, you felt like you were going to die. You couldn't imagine why anyone would enjoy something like this. "It hurts, Aemond." You whimpered, trying to push him off you but he wouldn't budge, his cock stayed firmly settled inside you and you wondered if the pain would ever go away.

Aemond let out a groan as your walls clenched around him, watching with an amused smirk as you so desperately tried to expel the painful intrusion. "So tight. You feel better than I could've possibly imagined, sweet niece." You cried out once again as Aemond started to move, pulling back out just to ram himself back in again. You whined out his name, but that only seemed to spur him on further. "This will go a lot easier if you just give in." He took your arms and pinned them into the bed on either side of your head, showing no semblance of mercy as he started to thrust into you.

"Uncle, stop-!" You sobbed, trying to thrash about and fight him as much as you could, feeling your tears fall on one side of your face as the ache in your core reverberated throughout your whole body, a migraine in your head making no sign that it would go away soon.

You flinched as you felt Aemond's warm, wet tongue lick up the side of your face, capturing your tears with a satisfied him. "Are those tears of pleasure or pain, sweetling?" He chuckled sadistically.

"Fuck you!" You screamed, headbutting him and immediately coming to regret it as more pain shot through your head, your vision going blotchy and dark again. Then you kept feeling shocks of pain, again and again as Aemond slapped you, until you felt hot thick liquid travel down the left side of your face. Your bandages were removed and you could feel Aemond's breath on your throbbing wound. You cried loudly as you felt his fingers run around your empty socket, the pain unbearable.

"Why must you make this so difficult for yourself, hm?" Aemond then brought his fingers to your mouth, forcing you to taste the coppery substance as he fucked into you harder, the sounds of your cries and his moans filling the room. "Gods, your cunt feels so heavenly. I never should've waited this long, wouldn't you agree?" He asked, knowing he'd never get an answer.

You were so out of it, the pain subsided slightly only for you to wish you could only feel the pain as you started to cry out from pleasure. You didn't want to feel good, you didn't want to give your uncle the satisfaction, but your body was betraying you. You no longer felt the pain of the stretch in your cunt, you now only felt how Aemond's cockhead kept hitting a place inside you that made your toes curl and your back arch.

Soon enough, the room started to be filled with the sounds of your intimate union. Wet, slapping sounds coming from where Aemond's cock met your cunt, your slick starting to coat your inner thighs and his pelvis. "So wet, dear niece? I always knew you were a whore just like your traitorous mother. Fucks, feels so good." He moaned, leaning down to kiss up your jaw, trailing over every bit of skin until he reached your wound. "Perhaps, if you survive this whole ordeal, we can get you a jewel to replace your eye? Whatever you desire; although, I would prefer to see you with a sapphire."

Just the thought of being forced to match your uncle made you cringe. You never wanted to be anything like him, but it was already too late for that.

The lewd sounds that your body was making, along with Aemond's deep groans made shocks of pleasure shoot through you, much more agreeable than the pain you had only been feeling up to this point. It frightened you how it just kept building and building, like you would explode if it never stopped. But you didn't want it to end, you wanted to chase that feeling to see where it led. You threw your head back against the mattress as Aemond started to lick and nip at your nipples, hardening from the pleasure of his cock. "Finally enjoying yourself, sweet niece?" He growled, biting the skin at the juncture of your neck roughly, causing you to wince but it oddly enough made the pleasure that much more intense.

"Please..." You begged, but you didn't know for what. You wanted him to stop, but you needed him to keep going. "Oh, gods." You moaned, writhing beneath him as he started to play with your clit, soon feeling an overwhelming euphoria wash over you, making you completely forget about the pain.

"Come on, princess. Let go for me." Aemond urged, pinching your clit and thrusting into you as hard as he could until you were spasming beneath him, your legs shaking and high pitched whines escaping your lips. "That's it, that's it." He cooed, kissing all over your face until you came down from your high. "See? All you had to do was relax, don't you feel so much better?" He smiled softly.

Your tears of embarrassment and shame kept rolling down your face as Aemond continued to chase his own high, sitting up on his knees and digging his fingers into your love handles for purchase. If you weren't so pissed off, you would have thought he looked angelic with his silvery hair sticking to his face and his body shining with sweat, but you knew better. He was no angel. He was a dragon, and dragons always took what they wanted with no care or concern for others. You were just another one of his conquests.

He kept using and using you, violently chasing his own peak of pleasure until you were whining with overstimulation. "Fuck, I'm gonna come soon. You want my cum, bastard?" He growled. "Want me to sire you a bastard as well?" He chuckled darkly as you shook your head weakly. "If you think this is the only time I'll be fucking this sweet cunt, you'd be sorely mistaken, niece. I'm going to keep you in this bed, all day and all night. You're going to be swollen with my child eventually, that or you're barren. But we can't have that, can we? Your whore mother might be okay with having bastards, damaging the Targaryen name, but I'm not. I'll have my mother agree to marry us. Maybe that will stop this tedious war on both sides."

You did not like the sound of that. No matter how out of it you were, you'd never agree to marry your sadistic uncle. But he talked like it wasn't up for discussion. "Stop, please." You whined, limp in his arms and unable to fight anymore.

Aemond growled, leaning down to wrap one of his hands around your throat, squeezing until your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you could feel your hammering pulse against his skin. "Mine. All mine." He groaned as his cock twitched inside you, his thrusts becoming uncoordinated and erratic until he suddenly stilled. An uncharacteristic whimpery moan escaped his lips as his seed filled you, his face contorting in an expression of pure bliss that made your insides clench despite yourself.

You finally felt like you could catch your breath as Aemond pulled out, flopping down beside you elegantly, a content smirk on his lips as he glanced at your numb, tearstained face. "Don't warry, niece, it only gets better from here. I suggest you learn to accept it, because I am never—never letting you go."

tumblr is being fucky, let me know if the text looks weird please

Aemond can brand me any day😏

Imagine Aemond is so possessive that he removes your eye so you two can match. Or he carves his name into your skin with his dagger while he's fucking you or just cuts out your eye while fucking you too yikes lmao🙈

I'm not gonna write it but someone should👀

Please write more for Osferth! Your last fic was amazing!!!

Aw, thank you so much, I really appreciate that!!!💕 and don't worry, I have a couple ideas I'm trying to figure out how to write at the moment.

I've realized, for me, soft boys™ are hard to work with more than others for some reason😂 Words don't word properly with sweethearts

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.