happilyhertale - Tumblr blog

happilyhertale · 5 days

Text

ooooh! tysm!! 💕💕 so glad you enjoyed it!! 💋💋

Voiceless - Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

Summary: As the princess of the realm, the gates of the world are open to you. But after one fateful night, everything seems to change for you.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Author’s note: Hey you (:

Another story, requested by a dear Anon (: Thank you for this request!

I hope you will enjoy it! English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Warnings: Violence, blood, fluff

Word count: 3.5 k

Other stories of mine

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You lean your body against the wall and feel the coldness of the walls flow through your body, while distant echoes reach your ears. The graceful footsteps of servants echo through the corridors, accompanied by soft conversations that float delicately in the air. You hold your breath anxiously and remain hidden, fearing that the slightest sound might betray your presence. Only when the whispers have faded and you are sure they are gone do you let out a sigh of relief and the tension in your chest eases.

With newfound courage, you carefully disengage yourself from the wall. With a deliberate step, you walk through the winding corridors of Driftmark Castle. The dimly lit corridors, a secret labyrinth of shadows and secrets, bear witness to your clandestine excursion. Unnoticed by the outside world, you have escaped from your chambers, driven by a longing to glimpse the heavens once more before returning to the turbulent confines of King's Landing.

You have heard much of the island's enchanting night sky, where the stars appear with effortless brilliance, undisturbed by the burdens of a densely populated city. In this vast expanse of darkness, the stars shine, casting their celestial glow on the calm waters that surround the shores. And so, driven by this longing, you navigate the corridors of the castle, propelled by an inexplicable pull towards the sky that dances above the shores of Driftmark.

The day was accompanied by sadness and cast a shadow over the hours that passed. Your mother urged you and your brothers to be moderate. You were not supposed to frolic, but just stay by your family's side. So you and your brothers mostly just stood around nodding and smiling at the adults occasionally. But all you really wanted to do was frolic in the dunes with Aemond.

Today was the sad occasion of Laena Velaryon's funeral, a painful spectacle. Her daughters Baela and Rhaena have your full sympathy. The very thought of suffering such a devastating loss as that of your own mother Rhaenyra sends a shiver down your spine.

Lost in thought, you approach the exit of the castle. Your reverie was abruptly interrupted, however, and you were jolted back to reality as you perceive low murmurs that soon swelled to a tumultuous clamour. The echoes of discontent turned into cries of frustration and carried the weight of a brewing tantrum. You quicken your steps and approach the source of the uproar, only to be abruptly stopped.

You thought you were the only one awake. Yet here are your brothers standing in front of Aemond and they are shouting at each other. Baela and Rhaena are behind your brothers. You notice immediately that no one is standing next to Aemond. You walk towards the group, but no one seems to be paying attention to you.

"What's going on here? Jace?" you ask.

Jace finally turns his head to you, "Go back to bed, y/n!" he says to you.

But you don't listen to him. You walk on and stand next to Aemond. You see the corners of Aemond's mouth pull up briefly and barely noticeably.

"What's going on here?" you ask again.

"Aemond has claimed Vhagar! Vhagars is our mother's dragon!" shouts Rhaena.

Your eyes grow wide. 'Aemond has what?‘ – immediately pops into your mind. But you can't help feeling a little proud for Aemond.

"Your mother is dead," Aemond says suddenly. Your head snaps to the side, "Aemond!" you hiss.

But Aemond seems to pay you no mind, "Vhagar has a new rider now!" he says proudly.

"It was my right to claim her!" retorts Rhaena.

Before Aemond can reply, you lightly take his arm and try to pull him back a little. You know that arguments between them can escalate quickly.

"Rhaena... it is not written down anywhere who can claim which dragon and when..." you say quietly. "Dragons decide for themselves who they want as a rider," you say a little more confidently now.

Rhaena gives you an angry look, "How would you know? Has your mother died yet? Have you had any experience with who claims her dragon?" she hisses at you.

You are a little startled and take a small step back.

"Shut your filthy mouth," chimes in Aemond and suddenly he shoves you behind him.

"Maybe your cousins will find a pig for you to ride. It would suit you," he says with a sneer.

Rhaena suddenly goes for Aemond, but he grabs her and pushes her to the ground. When Baela suddenly stands in front of him and punches him in the face. He didn't expect that, he goes down. You cry out slightly.

As if of your own accord, you suddenly stand next to Baela and push her away to keep her away from Aemond.

Aemond gets back up, looking hateful. He has clenched his hands into fists and is breathing heavily.

"Attack me again and I'll feed you to my dragon!" he says angrily but still with pride.

You look to him, "Don't do that Aemond..," you say quietly.

He looks at you, his gaze softening a little. But he is immediately distracted again when he notices Jace coming towards him.

But it's too late, Jace punches him square in the face. You cry out.

"No! Jace!" you scream, trying to pull him away, but Jace just shoves you aside. He tries to hit Aemond again. He punches several times in Aemond's direction, but to no avail. Aemond deflects each blow. Until Aemond kicks at Jace and he simply goes down.

Suddenly there is a scream from Luke and he tries to go for Aemond. But Aemond just punches him in the face.

"Aemond!" you shout, and run to Luke, who is on the floor. His nose is bleeding and he is whimpering softly. You try to comfort him.

When you turn back to Aemond, you see the others coming at him. Aemond is lying on the ground and the others are standing over him. They kick and hit him. You stroke Luke's head once more before running back over to the others. You get hold of Rhaena's hair and pull her away from Aemond. She struggles, but you push her away, "Stop it now!" you shout at her.

Jace turns to you briefly when he hears you scream. But at that moment Aemond kicks him to the ground again.

Aemond stands again, breathing heavily. Luke goes towards him, but Aemond just grabs him by the collar. Suddenly you notice him holding a rock in his other hand and raising it menacingly. You are too frightened to react.

"You will die in the flames, just as your father did!" he hisses at Luke.

You just gasp out, "Aemond! Stop that right now!"

But Aemond is too angry to even notice anything else

"Bastards," he says hatefully.

"Aemond! Are you out of your mind?" you say angrily. You walk towards the two of them. Luke just whimpers softly, "But my father is still alive..," he says quietly.

Aemond looks surprised, "He doesn't know, does he? Lord Strong?" he says.

"Aemond. Stop it right now," you say to him again.

Luke has tears in his eyes

But suddenly Aemond pushes you to the ground and now you're irritated, but then you see Jace coming at Aemond with a dagger. It takes you too long to process this.

But then Aemond hits Jace with the stone. You get up and go back to Aemond, wanting to pull him away from the group, "Stop that, Aemond! Come with me" you shout.

You turn back to Jace and at that moment you feel a searing pain. You grab your neck and your hands are instantly wet. You hear a blade fall to the floor. You immediately look to Aemond in panic, tears are in your eyes. You are in pain and you start breathing faster. You can't scream and you panic even more. But instead Aemond screams.

"I will let you burn!!! You will die for this!!!" he screams over and over. You slump down and cry silently.

"No!", Aemond shouts and is immediately at your side.

"It's going to be alright! Y/n! Please..," Aemond says almost pleadingly.

"Y/n!" shouts Jace as he realises what he has done, kneeling beside you as well.

Aemond stands back up. He breathes heavily and feels an incomprehensible rage inside him. The rage inside him feels like nothing he has ever felt before. He still has the stone in his hand. He lets his gaze wander to the stone as his chest rises and falls, heavier and faster, again and again. He raises his hand and wants to hit Jace with the stone.

When all of a sudden Luke yells out. At the high-pitched scream, you look up. He has the blade in his hand and swings it.

Aemond notices too late, but suddenly he screams out and holds his eye. You have never heard such a pained scream. You push Jace away from you, desperately trying to crawl over to Aemond. By now your hands are covered in blood and dust, your own pain completely forgotten. You kneel by Aemond's side and are only distantly aware of Jace shouting at Luke. It slowly dawns on both of them what they have done. Rhaena and Baela stand terrified in the corner, not daring to say anything.

You, on the other hand, want to say something. You try to speak. You open your mouth and try to force words out of you. But no matter how hard you try, your throat only hurts. Every time you try to say something, it feels like nails are being driven into your throat and more blood runs down your throat. The front of your dress is now soaked with your blood.

You grab Aemond by the shoulder and try to turn him towards you. As he lies on his back, he whimpers and you see more blood. Your whimpering mingles with his and you let out a soundless scream. His blood mixes with yours on your dress as you lean down and try to embrace him.

Suddenly the Kingsguard comes running.

Tears run down your face. But the tears are not an expression of pain, but of helplessness. Because Aemond lies screaming on the ground and you can do nothing to help him. His hand covers his left eye. More and more blood seeps through between his fingers.

You are only distantly aware of being taken aside, you only have eyes for Aemond.

Everything happens so quickly. And the next moment you are in the throne room. The wound over Aemond's eye is being stitched. He is sitting on a chair and a maester is standing in front of him. You are lying on a couch with two maesters bending over you. You have been given poppy juice and are light-headed. After the bleeding has stopped, your throat will be stitched. Tears keep running down your face. When the maesters have finished, you turn your head to Aemond. You see him contort his face in pain as the maester applies the needle. You try to sit up, but the maesters push you back.

"You should lie down for a while, princess," says one of the maesters.

You want to answer, but when you open your mouth, no words pass your lips.

The maesters cast a meaningful glance at each other. At that moment your mother comes storming into the throne room. She goes worriedly to your brothers and hugs them briefly. But quickly she continues to look around, her eyes searching for you. And then she sees you and horror is written all over her face.

She comes rushing towards you.

"Y/n!" she calls. With her soft hands she takes your face in her hands.

"My girl, what's wrong?" but you can't answer and that scares you even more. Tears well up in your eyes. Your mother looks at the maesters, "What is going on? Why can't my daughter speak?" she asks demandingly.

And then the maesters explain to her that you will probably never be able to speak again.

"A silent princess...", your mother murmurs with tears in her eyes.

Some years have passed since then and you have come to terms with the situation as best you can. The scar on your throat has healed completely, but it still makes you uncomfortable. In the evening, you sit in front of the mirror and apply ointments to the scar, hoping that one day it will hardly be visible. But you can't stand the sight of it for long.

Usually the scar is covered with a scarf to hide it from prying eyes. You are very ashamed of it and it burdens you even more that you can never speak to the lords and ladies of the court. Nevertheless, you have learned to observe your surroundings carefully and to notice the smallest changes.

But this has also led to increasing isolation. Still, Aemond can be found by your side most of the time. Even before the accident you had felt a certain closeness to each other, but now you are connected because of your shared loss. Aemond shares much of his day with you, telling you about the books he is reading. Sometimes he even assures you that you are not missing anything by not taking part in the conversations at court, as they are all trivial and boring.

And you answer him tirelessly with the art of writing. Every morning, when the busy maids help you to dress, you carefully tie a small roll of parchment around your wrist. In a tiny pocket that you have carefully attached to your dress is a precious piece of charcoal. These humble tools serve as channels for your communication.

On this roll of parchment you write all the feelings and thoughts you wish to convey. Your bold and solemn as well as sometimes cheeky responses find their eternal place on this paper that will forever go down in history. Somehow you like the idea that everything you share will be recorded. Unless, in a fit of frustration, Aemond throws your cheeky answers into the nearest fire and tries to give you an annoyed look. Then you can't help a slight chuckle.

Over the years, feelings have been stirring within you. You have watched Aemond grow into an impressive young man. Even in his clothes you notice the muscular development of his body through his hard training. This thought pleases you immensely. Sometimes you cannot suppress a giggle when you meet him after training - sweaty and breathing heavily. Aemond then looks at you in confusion, but you just shake your head as your cheeks redden slightly.

Likewise, you enjoy your quiet moments together. You just sit together then, giving each other comfort. Just as you suffer from your scar, Aemond suffers from the scar that adorns his face. And he cannot cover it as easily as you can cover yours. But your conscience still torments you often because you could not protect Aemond back then. You may have lost your voice, but Aemond has lost half his sight. Since birth, he has had to fight for everything he has, and it seems that nothing will ever change. But the fact that you could not prevent your brothers from going against Aemond and that he had to give up his eye for it, eats away at you and gnaws at your inner self.

When the overwhelming feeling spreads through you, you do not even seem worthy to enjoy his presence or attention. As you stand in the training yard one day, your thoughts are once again corroded by this guilt. An uneasy state fills your chest and a pressure makes itself felt. Suddenly, however, you are torn from your thoughts. Aemond stands before you and a smile adorns his face.

"I have not seen you at all today," he says softly and his smile widens.

You smile too and take your small roll of parchment in your hand.

"I've been hiding from you," you hold out to him on the paper.

He chuckles briefly and suddenly holds out a small flower to you

"I saw this and thought of you," he says softly. With delicate grace, his fingertips caress a delicate strand of your hair and gently stroke it behind your ear. As if guided by nature's whisper, he lovingly nestles a flower in your curls and adorns you with an enchanting touch.

You are overwhelmed by the sheer grace of his gentleness

"Will you wait for me until the training is over?", Aemond asks you, but your mind drifts, deaf to his words.

The suffocating weight in your chest persists and grows stronger. It feels almost unbearable that he has such endearing qualities and showers you with care while you have been powerless to protect him from the clutches of your own brothers who are responsible for his painful loss.

"Y/n?", Aemond asks you again to get your attention.

"I can't read your mind yet, you have to write it down," he says teasingly.

But your eyes suddenly fill with tears – Aemond's gaze instantly panics.

"Y/n? What's wrong?" he asks. He wants to caress the softness of your cheek to soothe you. Unfortunately, fate intervenes and as he reaches out to caress your cheek, you turn and hurry away. Aemond is visibly irritated, but he cannot resist and follows you.

"Hey! Y/n, what's wrong?", Aemond calls after you.

You walk into the gardens and wipe away your tears.

By the rose bushes, Aemond reaches you and grabs you almost gently by the arm. He turns you towards him and you look at him.

"Hey..." he says gently, wiping away your tears.

"Tell me what's wrong," he adds.

You hesitate at first. But then sob quietly and then take the parchment in your hand.

"I'm sorry," you write simply.

Aemond reads these words again and again. His eye dart over the paper, as if he wants to grasp something that is between the lines and still eludes his eye.

"What exactly do you want to apologise for?" he asks you quietly after a while.

You sob quietly and start writing again.

"That I could not prevent it," he reads next.

Again his eye dart over the paper several times.

He looks up, "That you couldn't prevent what exactly?" he asks you.

Now you are starting to look annoyed.

"Pardon me, y/n, I can't figure it out," he says.

You write again, "I thought you were smart?" reads Aemond this time.

He looks up at you again.

"What's bothering you?" he says and sighs.

You start again

"I couldn't stop Luke from taking your eye. I left you alone, so to speak... It still gnaws at my conscience," with each word Aemond reads, his lips move slightly. He slowly looks up at you.

"You silly... It's not your fault I lost my eye after all... You didn't swing the dagger," Aemond says softly.

But you shake your head and start writing again.

"I should have stopped Jace and Luke... I could have done more. I should have just taken you and walked away with you. Neither of us would have been hurt. You could still see with both eyes and I wouldn't have to write on those stupid pieces of paper. I don't deserve your attention," you hold out to him on the paper.

Tears well up in your eyes again and as Aemond looks back up, shaking his head slightly.

"No," he says simply, taking your face in his hands.

"No. It's not your fault," he says to you. With his thumb he gently wipes a tear from your cheek.

"If it hadn't been for you, far more would have happened. Perhaps one of us wouldn't be alive," he says to you.

You want to shake your head again, but his hands won't let you.

"I don't care how much you resist... it's not your fault and you are the only person on this cursed earth who deserves my attention," he says softly.

You notice him slowly lean forward. Your breath catches and before you realise what is happening, his soft lips are on yours. Gently they nestle around your lips. You close your eyes and give in to the feeling.

His tongue explores yours and the feeling of being so close to him is as sweet as a warm summer day. You feel the warmth emanating from him and it envelops you completely.

After a short time, Aemond releases his lips from yours. He leans his forehead against yours.

"Don't ever think like that again... You saved my life... In that horrible night and afterwards... When you were always by my side," he whispers, his lips inches from yours. You just smile and let your lips meet his again.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list

@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemond-targaryenx @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @believeinthefireflies95

#lovely moots 💕#thanks for reading

556 notes · View notes

happilyhertale · 8 days

Text

Small update

I actually wanted to finish my Daemon x sister!Reader story this weekend, but I don't feel like it right now. I just got a nasty message from the fandom gossip pot and it's drained all my energy.

So instead I'm going to concentrate on my thesis and when I feel like it again, I'll finish the story - but I can't say when that will be. So take care of yourselves and don't talk badly about each other - it's not good for anyone! 🖤

#hotd fandom #fandom stuff #personal stuff

15 notes · View notes

happilyhertale · 14 days

Text

“Daemon only ever wanted the Iron Throne! He wanted to rule through Rhaenyra!”

Daemon Targaryen was an ambitious dragon lord who wanted to be an important representative of House Targaryen, close to power, but also in a position in which he could be on the front lines in exciting battles, defending his family and the Realm. He never wanted to be stuck sitting on a chair for the rest of his life, forced to listen to the problems of smallfolk, deal with politicking and have to play mediator during Council meeting disputes.

People who truly understand Daemon Targaryen, know that the title of Prince Consort fits him just fine. It’s perfect, in fact. Exactly the kind of position that suits him.

He’s closest to the throne, the first man in the Realm, he’s husband to the reigning Queen, father to the next King, and this position grants him the opportunity to spend more time on the battlefield than in a throne room.

Daemon is free to lead armies and win wars, bringing House Targaryen to the height of its power, while Rhaenyra deals with everything he hates.

Daemon is just fine with Rhaenyra being Queen.

#daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #house of the dragon

250 notes · View notes

happilyhertale · 18 days

Text

Daemon smut on its way! I hope I can post it on Sunday at the latest! x3

So much for the hiatus…

Although I'm very busy with my thesis at the moment, I couldn't stop myself from thinking about a Daemon story… How would we find a Daemon x Sister!reader story? Just a little smut, not a big story

#daemon targaryen #the rogue prince #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen smut

12 notes · View notes

happilyhertale · 18 days

Text

So much for the hiatus…

Although I'm very busy with my thesis at the moment, I couldn't stop myself from thinking about a Daemon story… How would we find a Daemon x Sister!reader story? Just a little smut, not a big story

#self reblog #very important poll #daemon targaryen

12 notes · View notes

happilyhertale · 19 days

Text

So much for the hiatus…

Although I'm very busy with my thesis at the moment, I couldn't stop myself from thinking about a Daemon story… How would we find a Daemon x Sister!reader story? Just a little smut, not a big story

#very important poll #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen smut #prince daemon targaryen #the rogue prince

12 notes · View notes

happilyhertale · 19 days

Text

Oooh!!! Boop bestie, tysm!!! but yeah… we all kinda fall in love with Ettore…. 👀 Yes! That was my intention! I wanted Ettore to literally explode! Until he finally takes you…. gosh, I love Ettore 😄 💋💋

Our little game - Ettore x female!reader

Pairing: Ettore x fem!reader

Warnings: Violence, mention of abuse, Smut; 18+; NSFW

Summary: You are a murderer sentenced to death. To avoid the death penalty, you have agreed to take part in an experiment. You are in space on a ship with other prisoners. Like everyone else on the ship, you have to deal with problems and insecurities. But a prisoner helps you to distract yourself.

Author’s note: Hey you (:

The events in the story are not quite similar to those in the film. There are several prisoners on the ship and the experiment is also running successfully, if you can call it that... The prisoners are on a spaceship and are serving their sentence there. English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 9.6 k

Other stories of mine

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You stand in front of him and grin cheekily at him. You are alone in the room and you just look at him. How often you watch each other. How often you make him nervous.

Make him moan.

He doesn't want that. At least that's what he keeps saying. But still he keeps coming to you. Still you bring him to the brink of despair. To the point where he wants to feel you. To the point where his desire takes over.

But you don't let him.

Your hands slowly reach for your shirt. You pull it over your head. You stand naked in front of him. Only your trousers still cover your body.

He is silent as you come closer, staring at you deadly serious, a nasty smile on his face. "Is that your happy face?" his words echo in your head.

"I don't know... Do I look happy?" you ask as you run your hand over your soft skin.

He is silent again and just stares as you let your hand slide further and further over your skin... You know he is a criminal and the devil, and at the same time there is something about him... an attraction you don't understand.

He doesn't move an inch, but the tension in the room is almost palpable. He continues to breathe. And stares.

You grin at him and you let your hand slide further over your soft skin. You moan slightly as you are about to touch your breasts. You see his gaze follow your hand. How he bites his lower lip lightly. How much he wishes it were his hand gliding over your body. You lean forward a little and moan directly into his ear. You notice how he visibly swallows.

Aroused by this situation.

You let your hand wander further... Again you moan softly. Again directly into his ear. You feel his heavy breathing on your neck. But before he can do anything, before he can raise his hand, you turn away and walk to the door of the room. You laugh and put your shirt back on, "Ettore... You are too easily distracted... I can see that you want this... that you want me"

You see his eyes narrow as he stares after you and he breathes heavily. He wants to tell you how wrong you are, but his lips fail him. He watches you walk away, and he feels... something. He averts his gaze from you and bites his lip until he tastes blood to drive away the feeling of arousal. He clenches his fingers and his knuckles turn white. He takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes and repeats your words in his head. "I don't want you, I don't want you, I don't want you..."

He will not give in to you. You will not win.

You walk towards the canteen. There's about to be food and you're hungry. Hungry from the game you and Ettore have been playing for a long time. You like your game. You like to see how he wants you, but that he can't have you.

You try to tease him, he tries to touch you. But neither of you gives in. Nevertheless, you are tempted to test the limits with Ettore. You love to see his body react to you... even if you won't admit it.

But for Ettore, it's a different story. For Ettore, your game is not 'teasing'. You say you just want to play. But for him it's 'cruel' and 'sadistic'. He calls you 'heartless... cold... a criminal'. You call him 'crazy' and 'psychopathic'. You call each other names, yet you find each other strangely attractive. Like a predator and its prey. An old story. A game of cat and mouse. You test the limits, and he keeps breathing.

But you like Ettore somehow. You wouldn't want to admit that either. He was the first prisoner you noticed when you arrived here. You came here on the ship after you were convicted to avoid your death sentence. Some other prisoners arrived here with you and you were given a tour together. You were shown where the canteen is, where the washroom is, where your bedrooms are. And that's where you noticed Ettore. You walked past him and he stared at you. Since then you can't stay away from him.

Every day, many faces pass you by that you will never meet, that you don't even want to meet. You don't care about the prisoners here. Except for Ettore. He's secretive and doesn't talk much, but somehow he's caught your attention.

You've both done terrible things to end up here. You don't know if Ettore would hurt you, but somehow you have a feeling he wouldn't.

In the afternoon, when you are on your way to the washroom to take a shower, you meet Ettore. He comes towards you in the corridor. You can see in his eyes that his frustration and anger are boiling up again. He walks quickly, with a determined look on his face. He walks past you without saying a word.

His body is so close to you that you can smell his scent immediately... He doesn't smell bad. Not really... It almost triggers something in you.

He passes you, and the tension in the corridor is palpable.

You look after him as he just walks past you without a word.

"Is this your new punishment for me? You don't even say hello to me anymore? Do I have to take my shirt off again... And then I have your attention?" you tease him.

He stops immediately when he hears your voice. He turns to you, his eyes still staring as if they're trying to drill a hole in your chest. He tries to speak, but there's a lump in his throat. He wants to scream, he wants to shout at you, and at the same time his arms want to hug you so much... it's a war in his head. And it's agony, both inside and out.

You smile cheekily at him, "I can't read your mind, Ettore... you have to talk to me..."

With your hands you indicate that you want to take off your shirt. In the middle of the corridor. You don't, but you indicate it by pushing it up slightly on your belly.

He closes his eyes briefly, trying to regain control of himself. You can see him trembling slightly with suppressed anger. But as his eyes open, you can also see a strange desire in him. A desire he doesn't really understand, and he seems confused. How can he feel desire for someone so heartless? He looks at you.

You bite your lower lip, "Mmhm... maybe I'll have your attention if I take off my pants... would you like that? If I stood in front of you in my panties..? Maybe if I bent over... and you could see all of me..?"

You let your fingers wander along the waistband of your trousers.

He closes his eyes again. He tries to control the hunger he feels when he looks at you.

"Ah... stop it..." he finally growls. His first reaction. He shakes his head. "You are heartless..." he mutters.

He is so confused. You are a criminal, like him. And yet... there is something about you... that triggers a desire in him that he doesn't really understand. He shakes his head again and stares at you intently.

You chuckle softly, "Oh, Ettore... I was only joking"

You turn away from him and slowly pull your trousers down as you walk. Down to your bottom. Your fine silk panties are showing. And before you enter the washroom, you stop and smile over your shoulder at Ettore.

He remains still and stares at you. He doesn't move. Not even a muscle. And he's still looking so intensely, as if he's trying to understand what's going on inside you. He takes a step forward, and then... then he stops. He doesn't quite know what to do... he just stares, breathing, waiting to see if you're serious or just joking.

You stand in front of the door to the washroom and take your trousers completely off. Your trousers lie on the floor.

You stand in front of Ettore in your panties. You turn around, stand with your back to him and bend forward. Even from a distance you can see a damp spot on your panties. While Ettore keeps a close eye on you, you pick up your trousers.

"Well Ettore, I hope you're not imagining what my warm, wet core feels like..."

You leave him standing there and walk into the washroom.

He shakes his head again, he doesn't want to think about it at all. He doesn't want to imagine what you feel like. He doesn't want to imagine how you feel around his cock. At least that's what he tells himself.

As he stands alone in the hallway, the tension is broken for a moment and his muscles relax. His lips twist into a faint smile. It is a smile he does not understand.

He turns and makes his way to the canteen. He hangs on to his thoughts. He thinks about how he can't stand you. That you are cold and sadistic. But that he likes you anyway.

You take a shower, you need to wash away the boredom this place gives you. A place you will never escape. In fact, the little games you play with Ettore are the only fun you have here.

You have to smile at the thought. You kind of like him... You get out of the shower, get dressed and walk into the corridor to go to the canteen as well.

In the canteen, Ettore is sitting at the table with another prisoner. They eat and talk a little.

You come into the canteen and see him. He is sitting in a corner. You can feel his gaze from across the hall.

You sit down at an empty table and eat.

When you have finished eating, you stand up and walk over to Ettore. You speak to him innocently, "Ettore..?"

"What", he snaps.

Now you grin blatantly at him, "I'm going to my room now. I'm going to touch myself. Maybe I'll think of you then. Is it okay if I think of you while I do that? Maybe I will also moan your name out loud..." You don't care if the others hear.

You grin at him and leave the canteen.

He stops eating immediately. He looks after you, an evil frown forming. He rises from the table. With an angry expression on his face, he throws the plate aside and smashes it into many pieces. Without saying anything, he also throws the cutlery aside. The prisoners at the table look at him, startled.

"You are vile," he spits. "You are insufferable... you are a heartless and disgusting woman..." he growls.

You laugh, "You are not so unlike me, but perhaps that is why we are attracted to each other? Have you ever thought about that with your pretty little head?" you call out to him.

You go straight to your room and lock the door behind you. You know that Ettore will follow you. He can't help but follow you.

Ettore really is at your door a short time later. He is listening. He doesn't want to, but nevertheless he is standing here. He hears you touching yourself. He hears you moaning. How you moan his name. He feels how it arouses him. The way his trousers tighten at the crotch. He closes his eyes, imagines you lying under him, moaning his name as he thrusts into you. He breathes heavily.

But he does not give in.

When your moans subside and you can breathe normally again, you are curious to see if you will see Ettore standing outside your room. Whether he actually heard you.

You step out of your room and you see him standing in the middle of the corridor. He stares at you. You can see an almost animalistic hunger in his eyes. You hear him breathing heavily. He seems to be waiting. You play your game... and he lets you play with him.

You can feel the tension in the hallway.

"You listened to me, Ettore... Did you like that?" you ask him cheekily.

He looks at you, "Disgusting!" he shouts. "You are the worst of men...!"

You smile, "Mhm somehow I don't think you find that disgusting..." you bite your lip as your gaze falls on his crotch.

"After all, you're the one who followed me to hear me touch myself. And that bulge in your crotch says otherwise... Tell me, Ettore, did you like the way I moaned your name?"

You giggle and turn around, walk down the corridor. Again you leave him alone in the corridor. You feel his gaze on the back of your neck, he doesn't take his eyes off you.

The next day you are sitting in the library. You enjoy the peace and quiet, no one is in the room and you are reading a book. You are sitting with your back to the door when suddenly you hear someone enter the room and the door is locked. You turn around and see Ettore standing there. You turn back to your book without saying anything.

He doesn't go to the bookshelves. As you look at him for a moment, you see a smile on his face.

"Heartless. A psychopath. A monster. Despicable and evil. Worse than me..." he growls to himself.

He starts circling you, watching you like a predator watches its prey. His gaze burns into you.

At some point you look up, annoyed, and look him in the eye, "Ettore... what is troubling you? Are you disgusted with yourself for being attracted to me? Doesn't it give you enough satisfaction to just jerk off?"

You look back down at your book and continue reading.

He stops in front of the table and stares at you.

"I... I..." he stammers, still breathing heavily. "I... you..."

He takes the book from you.

"Pay attention to me when I'm talking to you!" he growls. His gaze bores into you, "I don't understand how you can be so cold..." he says scornfully.

You look unimpressed, "...and now I'm not even allowed to read on?" you sigh, "..please ask yourself, are you really so different from me? Aren't you just as cold? Maybe I like you and this is my way of showing you how much I like you?" you give him a seductive look and giggle briefly.

He looks at you incredulously, "I'm nothing like you! You show no remorse for anything and play with people! I show remorse! I have paid for what I have done! I have been sentenced by the court...", he suddenly stops. It's as if a war is raging inside him, between attraction and rejection. Between love and hate.

You look at him a little confused, "What has that got to do with it? And do you really think I wasn't convicted by the court?? Why do you think I'm here? Certainly not because the entertainment here is so breathtaking"

You look at him angrily for a moment, but quickly catch yourself.

"But... Would you answer a question for me?" you ask with a small smile.

He just stares at you, looking angry. But he nods. You seem to have him right where you wanted him.

"Okay... I'll grant you the courtesy of an answer. But only if you also answer a question of mine..." he says. "Is that okay with you?"

You nod, "Okay. That's only fair. But I'll ask first," you smile at him, "Yesterday, when I moaned your name... Did you think for even a second about coming into the room? To watch me, or maybe join in?" you grin at him.

He is silent for a minute, lost in thought. He doesn't want to think about it, or admit it, that he felt a great urge to just barge into your room and fuck you.

"No. No, I hadn't thought of that," he says contemptuously, "I'm not a sadist like you," he adds. "I don't enjoy seeing other people suffer... Like you do...", he breathes heavily.

You make a little pout, "So you wouldn't have liked to touch me? Watched me moan your name? Very well. Then don't. Then I could go to someone else if you don't want me… But… never mind. Ask me your question and I'll never bother you again. Would you like that?"

You can read a look of disappointment and frustration on his face. He doesn't want you to turn to someone else. But he would never say it. He doesn't answer you about it.

He just smiles at you, "My question is simple. Tell me about your crime..." he says. "I have answered your question, now answer mine. I have a right to know who I am stuck in this experiment with, don't I?"

You look at him with a little grin. That he ignores the first part of your statement is answer enough for you. "But well, my crimes? I killed two people. They deserved it. They were evil. They abused people and they abused me too. I had to fight back. They are dead. And I have no regrets. After they abused my body, they had to die," your smile is gone and you look at him coldly.

Suddenly you see a smile on his lips, as if he is pleased. "They deserve what they got..." he says. It sounds like he agrees with you, but there is a slight tone of derision in his voice. "And so you killed two people... For revenge?" he asks in a mocking tone.

"Yes, I did. Does that give you pleasure now?" you ask.

He stops smiling for a moment.

You can see that he is starting to get annoyed and a little angry, "So... you killed two people... And now you're trapped here waiting to die... right? Am I right?"

You grin and nod at him, "Who has the bigger problem? Me, who publicly admits to killing people or you, who is still attracted to me?"

"Who has the bigger problem??" he says with disdain. "I'm not attracted to you! You are the one who killed two people!" he says mockingly. "Me? I'm a criminal, sure. But you, you're a psychopathic monster! You have the bigger problems!"

You can read in his face that he is getting angrier and angrier. You can see the disgust in his gaze.

You just smile, "So if I came up to you and touched you, you wouldn't want me to touch you? For me to just reach into your pants?"

He suddenly grins, "As long as I still have my dignity, I won't want that. No. You are just scum"

You lean back in your chair, "I don't know why you're resisting. It would do your salvation good if you would just admit that you want me"

He grins a little again, "Is that so?" he says, "Are you saying I'm attracted to someone like you?" he laughs.

"No!" he suddenly shouts. "No, and I'm not the one who has the biggest problem here... you are!"

You sigh, starting to get annoyed, "Okay, I have the bigger problems. Do you feel better now? Is the anger inside you finally subsiding? You don't know anything about me. You only know what my breasts look like. What I look like in my panties. But you don't know anything about me"

He suddenly looks at you seriously. "Okay... Well... Tell me about yourself... and I'll tell you something personal about me. Agreed?" he asks, "Then I would know more than your breasts and panties"

You don't know why, but you nod.

"Very well... I like music. Very much so. I play the guitar. Quite well, actually. But I'm not allowed to play guitar here… I have a little sister who I love more than anything. But I'll never see her again. Because I killed the people who abused me and were about to abuse my little sister," you look to the side for a moment and visibly swallow. You look at him again, "Are you going to continue to judge me now? When you're done with that, tell me something personal about yourself"

He looks at you. He seems surprised... By your honesty. And for a second, just a second, his eyes look like they are filled with emotion. Then his hard expression reappears. His gaze is neutral, hiding all his thoughts. He only gives a slow nod in reply. You can feel the anger in him subside for a moment.

"A musician. A good sister. But a murderer. A ruthless, heartless criminal..." he says. "So... that's what you are"

You smile, "Pretty much to the point. Are you going to tell me about yourself now?" you look at him questioningly.

He's breathing heavily. He is struggling with himself. His eyes look at you with anger... with frustration. He can't say no and he can't lie. He has to deal with it, he has no choice.

"I am a murderer..." he says, staring at you with contempt. He takes a deep breath and continues. "I killed my parents..."

His voice is low, even, without emotion. He speaks only facts now.

You draw your eyebrows together, "But... Why do you find it reprehensible what I did... when you killed your parents?" you ask him.

His face remains motionless for a few seconds. He stares at you with contempt.

"Because my parents abused me... And because I regret my crime..." he replies. "That's it. I am a murderer... But I'm not a monster like you"

And with that, you see the anger and contempt return to his eyes.

You roll your eyes, "Oh Ettore... Really? Just because I don't regret killing people who destroyed so many lives? Those people have murdered! And because I didn't want the same thing to happen to my little sister as happened to me? That's why you think I'm a monster? I don't even know why I like you so much. You're a hypocrite"

As you realise that you have just admitted that you like him, your eyes grow wide for a moment. But you quickly look emotionless again. But Ettore has understood your words perfectly.

He looks at you with a mocking, almost evil smile. Almost for the first time, he feels as if he has the upper hand in your game.

"Now you're beginning to understand," he says. "I am a criminal. A murderer. A thug. But at least I have enough pride to regret what I've done. And I don't enjoy other people's misery. Unlike you. You're a heartless monster. You like to see other people suffer. And I will never like you because you are such a horrible person"

You feel a twinge in your chest, but you grin at him, "Well... somehow I don't believe you... your look betrays too much affection... But I don't want to put up with any more accusations from you either. If I'm so unbearable to you, surely it's not a problem if I find someone to desire me now?"

You get up from your chair and look at him. You see the disappointment in his eyes. Ettore feels stitches in his chest now. He desires you. He wants you... But it's too hard to accept. You turn slowly and go to the door.

He looks at you. He wants to stop you. But he stands firm and looks at the floor. He looks at you again and you see his expression change. He looks at you with a mixture of pity, sorrow and desire.

"Go on... Go on. You will come back..." he says these few words with an almost evil smile on his face... As if he is sure of what he is saying.

You give him a small grin before opening the door, "Yes, like I said, we are attracted to each other. We always get back together," you wink at him.

That's enough for him. He walks towards you and stops you from leaving. He grabs your arm and turns you so that you are looking at him.

"Mhm... finally a reaction from you?" you grin at him.

He looks at you hatefully. Then his lips crash down on yours. He kisses you, wildly.

You bite his lip. He hisses and pulls his head back. You look at each other, both breathing heavily. This time you kiss him. Your lips touch his. The game you've played with him has brought you this far, you need him now.

He kisses you, grabs you tightly. He feels your soft body pressed against his. His hands slide to your ass, gripping it almost painfully. An obscene grunt escapes him. He pushes you backwards, leading you to the table. Your hands are wrapped around his neck. You moan into his mouth as he pulls your pants down with ease. He sits you down on the table.

"You like that?" he asks you when he sees how wet you already are.

"Shut up, Ettore," you gasp.

His hands are between your thighs and you pull him closer to you. Your hand wanders over his belly. You feel how muscular his belly is. You notice how this increases your arousal. Your hand is on his trousers. You feel his hot length through the thin fabric of the trousers. He hisses as you put pressure on his hard cock. You pull down his pants and see his long, veiny cock. Pre cum is already dripping out.

You start stroking his cock. You let your hand slide up and down his cock. A deep moan comes from him.

He needs to feel you. No matter what was or is between you, he needs to feel you.

His fingers slide through your folds and are immediately drenched in your arousal.

"Fuuuck..." he moans. You whimper in response.

He leaves circling motions on your clit, "I need to feel your pussy"

He grabs your waist and pulls you to the edge of the table.

Suddenly you feel his hand around your throat, holding you tight. He looks deep into your eyes. You bite your lip. You're completely at his mercy now.

You shudder.

He pushes you back onto the table by your throat until you are lying flat. He doesn't even bother to take off your panties, he just pushes them aside. He positions himself at your entrance. His hand remains on your throat. Making sure you stay the same way. He looks at you for a brief moment. You can't interpret exactly what you see in his eyes. Until he slides his hands to your hips and thrusts into you without warning. You cry out.

He grins. He doesn't give you time to get used to his size. He fills you completely. The stretching, painful at first, quickly turns into pure pleasure.

"This is what you wanted all along, isn't it?" he asks you in his deep voice. You can only whimper in response. You don't want him to hear that you like it. But the feeling of being completely filled by him makes you dizzy. Your lips fail you.

You moan loudly and wrap your legs around him. He lets you thrust on his cock again and again. The room is filled with skin slapping against each other.

He increases his pace and you notice how he touches your clit again. You look at him and see how he only pays attention as he disappears inside you. You notice how your excitement runs down your ass.

"Fuck... you're so tight," he groans.

Without any care, he thrusts into you, burying himself as deep as he can in your wet pussy. You moan out.

You reach for his arms, wanting to pull him down to you for a kiss. But he takes your arms instead and pushes them down onto the table. He leans forward, increasing the speed of his thrusts.

"You like that? Do you like the way my cock fucks your tight pussy?"

You nod. He bites the crook of your neck suddenly, "I want you to say it!"

You gasp out, "Yes!! Ettore... you feel... you feel so good. So... big"

He moans again. He grabs you tightly by the waist and pulls you down to meet each of his thrusts. You whimper and breathe heavily. Your body surrenders to his every touch.

You see him bending over and letting his spit drip onto your clit. You clench around his cock at the sight. He looks to you and has to grin.

"You like that...", he slides his finger on your clit and applies pressure. You moan loudly and clench again. Your moan is accompanied by his grunts.

"Ettor..." but you are already coming. You come around his cock. It doesn't take long and he follows you. Followed by a deep moan, he pulls his cock out of your pussy and squirts onto your belly.

He strokes his cock a few more times and squeezes out the last drop. He supports himself with his other hand. Gasps and breathes heavily.

You lie on the table and try to breathe normally. You look at him, he pulls up his trousers. Then he looks at you contemptuously and leaves the library.

You sit up and look at the door for a moment. You let yourself slide off the table and get dressed again.

You are confused.

You go to your room. You hate to admit it, but that was the best sex you've had so far. But still, Ettore's previous words have not left you untouched. He said hurtful words. Does he really think these things about you? And does he really think he can just fuck you? That he can insult you... fuck you and then leave you? You shake your head. You will show him that it is not so.

The game goes on.

The next day you sit on a table in the library. The same table where Ettore fucked you the day before.

Another prisoner is standing between your legs. You know him by sight. He's not ugly, but he doesn't interest you either.

He whispers things in your ear and you giggle. His hands are on your thighs, gently caressing you.

Ettore enters the library and sees you immediately. Sitting on the table from yesterday when he was between your legs... Now he sees another guy standing between your legs. How he touches you, how he whispers things in your ear and makes you giggle. He doesn't want to, but jealousy grips him.

You look him in the eye. He looks angry... Apparently he does care when you turn to another man.

You see him blushing with anger.

His hands are clenched into fists. He doesn't move, but he feels like he's about to explode.

Your mouth moves to the guy's ear. You whisper something in his ear and then nibble lightly on his earlobe. Suddenly his arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you closer to him.

Ettore is unable to move. He can just stare at you. You see a mixture of pain and anger in his gaze.

You turn your gaze to the guy. But you would much rather have Ettore standing between your legs... like yesterday.

Suddenly you feel uncomfortable. You don't want the guy between your legs anymore. You push him away slightly, but he just looks at you a little irritated. "Ey doll. What are you doing? You want this too..." the guy says to you.

But you push him further away, "No, I don't want that"

He just grins, "Well, it didn't look like that just yet," he pushes you closer to him.

You try to push him away with all your might, "I just changed my mind! Leave me alone!"

But the guy grabs you brutally by the thighs to hold you firmly in front of him.

When Ettore suddenly intervenes, "Ey! Leave her alone!" he shouts, glaring at the guy, "Leave her alone or I'll break your neck!"

He takes a step towards the guy and looks him straight in the eye.

You look scared. You've never longed to be near Ettore more.

But the guy seems unimpressed, "Don't be ridiculous, mate! I just want to use her for a moment! You can have fun with her afterwards"

Ettore sees an expression in your eyes that he has never seen before, it is pure fear.

"I won't ask again" he says in a calm but threatening voice. His face turns red. "Let her go! And I mean now!"

The guy hesitates. But he realises there is no point in arguing with this madman.

"Good," he says, "You have your fun with her then!"

He lets go of you and takes a step back.

You get up from the table and walk over to Ettore as if of your own accord. You unconsciously reach for his arm as you stand beside him. You need to feel him. He is briefly irritated by your touching him, but realises that somehow you need it right now.

The guy leaves the library. You stand there in silence for a moment.

You slowly look up at Ettore. He looks at you worriedly.

"Thank you... Ettore," you murmur before leaving the library. You have to get out of there, you feel miserable.

It's night. You are lying in bed, looking at the ceiling and thinking of Ettore... It's been a few days since he protected you from that guy.

The last few days you've been avoiding him. You always managed to disappear quickly before he showed up somewhere.

You don't quite understand what happened. You just wanted to show Ettore that he can't do what he wants with you... and suddenly he's the one who saves you? Suddenly the situation you wanted to show him that you still have the upper hand turns into one where he has to save you?

You turn to the side.

Yet somehow you miss him. Your games. The way he gets upset, the way he fights against wanting you. The way he takes you... You shake your head slightly and close your eyes.

Suddenly you get distracted. You hear something from outside. Someone is talking in the corridor.

You try to listen more carefully. The voice gets louder.

"Come on... Think about it. Be logical! You've been rejected! You're better than that, Ettore!... You deserve better!"

Ettore hasn't seen you for the last few days. He doesn't know why that bothers him. He feels just overwhelmed.

When he sees you, you almost make him despair. But when you are not with him, he feels lost. In addition, he has a strange feeling... He feels he has to apologise to you. That he fucked you... and then left you there. But he had to leave the room. He felt too much.

His voice gets louder, like he's very frustrated. He sounds angry with himself. And then... Tears?

Startled, you sit up in your bed. Quietly, you go to your door and listen. You hear a sob. You open your door and look out into the dark corridor. You see him standing there.

"Ettore? What's wrong?" You ask him.

You can feel the loneliness in this corridor now. It is quiet and dark. You can feel his sadness. And you realize that Ettore's pain... is as great as yours. His pride... is as great as yours.

But this time, you'll be the one to help him.

He doesn't answer you. He looks away from you. He tries to hide his tears.

You are worried and slowly walk towards him, "Ettore? What's wrong? Has something happened to you?" You stop beside him. He still does not answer.

"Hey...? Shall... Shall we go to the kitchen? Have some water? Anything?"

Now He's looking at you. One look in his eyes tells you everything. He is desperate. He still tries to hide his tears, but he no longer wants to hide his pain.

Finally his tears begin to flow and he starts to cry uncontrollably.

"Oh my God," you whisper. You don't hesitate for long, take a step towards him and hug him. His face is in the crook of your neck

"Hey, it's okay.. you're going to be okay"

He hugs you back and holds you tight. He is crying harder now and you sense that he no longer cares to hide anything. His tears and anger are now flowing together on your shoulder. He has been holding it together for too long.

You just hold him. You stroke his back. "Sssh... It's alright. Really... Nothing's going to happen to you. Do you want to tell me what happened? I'm sure you'll feel better afterwards? They say talking about it makes you feel better, don't they?" You're a bit desperate. You're not used to Ettore showing feelings.

That's not how you treat each other. You get angry. You tease each other. You desire each other but have no feelings for each other. But you still want him to feel better.

You feel the wetness of his tears on your skin. His body trembles under his sobs. He was always so strong and stoic, but now he's having a breakdown. "I ... had enough ... I feel bad" he says between sobs.

He holds you tight. You realise that he has kept so much to himself for so long. He has never told anyone about it... never showed any weakness... and now only you are here.

You nod and continue to hold him.

"Okay... that's okay. You've had enough. Of what? And why do you feel bad? Can I help you, Ettore?" you keep stroking his back.

"Of everything..." he continues whispering, "About this experiment... of this chaos... Of my life. Of the regrets... Of the choices I've made"

He breaks down further. "I... I am the monster of us... And then I leave you after we..."

You shake your head and take his face in your hands, "Hey. No. Stop it. You're not the monster of us. And if you were, then I'd be a monster too. And I'm not gonna let you think of us like that, okay? We can only get through this together, Ettore. You're... wonderful in a way... Don't let your thoughts get the better of you? Okay?" you smile slightly at him.

You don't know how to help him, but you do your best.

Ettore stares at you, his eyes filled with tears.

"How... can you be so kind and forgiving to someone like me..." his voice breaks.

"I'm a terrible person!" he cries, "Why... Why have you never hated me?"

"Because I can't hate you! Why else do you think I keep seeking your proximity?"

You stroke his cheek, you wipe away his tears.

He tries to resist you wiping away his tears. He wants to cry, to hate himself.

"I need to be... be punished..." he cries, "...I must suffer..." he looks at you with eyes full of pain. You see, for the first time since you've been here, Ettore showing all his despair. His humanity. His vulnerability.

You just shake your head just slightly.

Then you whisper, "Why did you come to my room?"

He looks shocked for a moment, then whispers, 'I... I just... I just wanted to be with you..." he looks away from you again.

He sighs and continues whispering, "I couldn't resist... I wanted to feel something... real.... Instead of this experiment and this mess. I wanted to feel something different for once, something human," he adds, sounding very conflicted.

You are speechless at first. He has never been so honest... He has never been so full of affection for you.

"Even though you're convinced I'm a bad person... a monster even... you seek me out to feel something human?" you whisper.

He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. "You are not a monster... You didn't just leave me after we..." but his voice breaks.

He looks away from you ashamed, "I just wanted to feel something good again. Something real. Something that felt... right"

You hug him again, "Is that real enough?" you whisper into his neck. You just hold him close.

Ettore wraps his arms tightly around you.

"Yes.... Yes... This is real..." he whispers, "Yes this.... this is good..."

He relaxes.

"Thank you..." he whispers.

He feels your smile against his skin.

"Hey... no problem... you protected me from that guy the other day. It's the least I can do to cheer you up"

Again he sighs, "But the reason I did that... the reason I saved you... was because I wanted to protect you... because I was hoping you would come back to me... It was all just another selfish wish of mine. To make me feel good"

You lean back a little and smile at him, "But... you helped me anyway. Maybe we were made for each other... despite everything..."

He nods, "Tell me... what... what should I do?" he says, "Should I punish myself for the rest of my sentence... or should I..."

He at you with a questioning look.

You stroke his cheek and smile shyly, "No. I don't want you to punish yourself. I won't let you do that. If anyone's going to punish you, it's going to be me... But in a nice, tolerable way. Like we used to do... I'll tease you," now you're grinning, "until you almost lose control and want me. So much that you have to touch me, but you can't. Yes... maybe this is your punishment... Executed by me," you continue to caress his cheek

He looks at you with half-closed eyes and listens to your words. You can see a small smile on his lips.

"And what if I don't accept your punishment?" he says, looking into your eyes, "What if I want to do things my way for once?" he asks in a somewhat teasing voice.

You smile at him as you continue to caress his cheek. Smiling, you shake your head slightly, "Mhm, nope. That wouldn't be a punishment if I just gave in to your wish"

Then you look almost sad, "I'd be too worried about you punishing yourself too much... you don't deserve that. I know you don't like to hear this... but... I couldn't bear to see you suffer"

You have to avert your eyes for a moment. You visibly swallow.

When you look at him again, you see him smiling. You see a hint of hope and a hint of affection in his eyes. It almost makes you embarrassed.

"Very well... so be it then," he says, "We will do it the way you want it... I will accept your punishment and punish myself only as you allow me to..."

He smiles at you mockingly, "Is that good enough for you?!"

Your smile widens "Yes. I can live with that. You don't deserve more or less"

You take a step away from him and take his hand, you pull him with you "Come... let's go to the kitchen, I'm hungry... we could... steal a cake?" you grin at him.

He laughs and nods at you, "Alright. As long as you say so. Then let's go and steal a cake"

He looks at you for a moment. He smiles a little and nods at you. You can tell he's feeling better.

You can't help yourself, you quickly press a light kiss to his lips. You had to.

You blush slightly, "That's all you're going to get. This is part of your punishment"

He looks surprised at the kiss. But after a second he nods and then he laughs again, "Alright... That's all I get. That's all I deserve"

You giggle and pull him along towards the kitchen. "But we have to be quiet, if we get caught there'll be trouble"

He chuckles as you pull him along. He looks at you playfully and smiles, his eyes still full of affection.

You continue to hold his hand and walk into the kitchen.

"Do you realise that your punishment will be like this? I will tease you... with kisses... maybe even with touches... But you can never expect more?"

You smile playfully at him, "Is that all right with you? But what am I asking... Punishments shouldn't be okay..." you are still smiling.

He laughs again. You've never seen him laugh so much, "Everything is okay as long as you say it," he says it like it's a magic phrase.

"I won't touch you, I won't expect anything from you..." he smiles at you and nods.

You nod at him "But... What if I want you to touch me?" you whisper.

He grins, "Then that will be part of my punishment and I will endure it"

You don't look at him, you can't help but think of when he took you in the library. You bite your lower lip lightly.

His grin widens, "What are you thinking about?"

Your eyes grow big, "I'm not telling you that!"

He laughs again.

You stand together outside the kitchen. Carefully he opens the door. You step inside and look around. In the pantry you discover a chocolate cake.

You grin as you stand in front of the cake, "Ettore... this is the perfect reward for us... for sticking it out here for so long," you whisper.

"A reward... for putting up with you for so long"

He grins at you, you punch him lightly.

You sit at a table eating the cake. You watch him... and you realise that you desire him. That you long for that moment back in the library.

"Ettore? Feed me," you tell him.

He looks at you amused, "Is this part of my punishment?"

You just nod and grin.

He sighs, but then wants to bring his fork to your mouth. You shake your head, "with your fingers," you bite your lower lip.

He looks at you irritated until he sees the look on your face and sees you biting your lower lip. He nods. He takes a piece of cake between his index finger and thumb and brings it to your mouth. You take his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue plays around his fingers, you suck a little on his fingers. You look into his eyes. Your gaze shows nothing but pure desire. His gaze returns nothing else. You release his fingers from your mouth and chew on the cake. "Don't think about it, Ettore... that's all you get..." you smile at him, biting your lower lip again.

He grunts slightly. He looks at his fingers, then looks at you again. Then he smiles and he licks his fingers.

"Is that good enough for you?" he asks in a playful voice, his eyes full of life. "Is that punishment enough?" he seems to be mocking you in a good-natured way.

You giggle, "No... not quite... I would love to do so much more with you..." you look innocently at your plate and poke at your cake.

He grunts again, "That's some punishment!"

But he's looking at you curiously now. As you look into his eyes, you don't see the anger that has been with him for so long.

"What... what are you going to... do?" he whispers. He seems unsure somehow, in a way. He's not used to seeing you in such a loving, playful way.

You still have your fork in your mouth and you look up. You think. "Mmhmm, let me think... what would I want to do to you...? "

But he interrupts you, "Y/n... I... like you. I like you really much"

You see him look at you, startled. He seems startled himself, saying something like that all of a sudden.

But you have to smile, "Now... I want to kiss you... But... you've already had one kiss. That's all your punishment will allow. For today," you giggle slightly.

He smiles, "What if I asked? Would you give me... give me another kiss? As another part of this... Punishment... Maybe, just one more?"

He looks into your eyes in a new and... loving way. Something has definitely changed between the two of you.

You think for a moment, but then shake your head with a smile, "You seem to enjoy the punishment too much. But no matter how seductive it seems, no. But maybe we'll sit here until midnight... then it would be a new day... then I could give you a kiss," you smile at him.

He grins, "Then we will wait till midnight... And then a kiss for you, my love..." he says, nodding at you as he smiles again.

Now you blush slightly. ‘My love‘... you like him calling you that...

You nod "I long for it..." you whisper. You take another bite of the cake. "But... you distracted me with your kissing talk! I should punish you for that!" you grin at him, "Would you like to see me without my shirt again?" you ask casually and innocently.

Ettore looks at you, chuckling, "Oh, I would love to see you without your shirt again..." It seems he doesn't care that he is being punished now.

You grin and poke at the cake, "Yeah? How would you like to see me without my shirt? How much do you long to see me shirtless? Tell me"

He stares at you with a mixture of admiration and curiosity

"How much would I like to see you shirtless? Hmm... Hmmm..."

He continues to look at you mischievously.

"Maybe I can make that clear with my actions," he says in his dark voice. He turns on his chair towards you and takes your hand. He pulls you to him and you give in. You sit down on his lap. He gently caresses your cheek and lets his lips slide onto yours. You put your arms around his neck, deepen the kiss.

He breaks the kiss, rests his forehead against yours, "I really want to see you without your shirt, but not here," he whispers.

You bite your lower lip and just nod.

The next morning you slowly open your eyes. You hear a soft breathing. A warm body lies next to you. Ettore is lying next to you. His back is turned towards you. You slide closer to him. You feel his warmth. You gently caress his bare skin. His warmth floods your fingertips.

It is unfamiliar to you. The sudden closeness between you. In addition to the attraction you've always felt, this sudden closeness. But somehow you enjoy it.

You notice how he slowly turns towards you. He turns onto his back and lifts his arm. You don't hesitate for long and let his arm enclose you.

You let your fingers glide gently over his chest. You smile up at him. His eyes are closed, but you see that he is smiling slightly. You gently kiss his lips. He pulls you closer to him and deepens the kiss.

As you slide your hands down him and begin to tickle him. He didn't expect that, he laughs out loud. He tries to free himself from your grip.

Finally he manages to grab your hands and holds them above your head. He leans closer and whispers in a joking voice, "You won't get an inch of me"

As he holds your hands there, he gently caresses your cheek with his other hand. He can't believe he's just enjoying a morning with you.

You see his soulful gaze. Though he holds you tight, you lean up a little with all your might and gently kiss his nose.

"We'll see about that!"

You put your legs around his waist so you can hold him and try to get your hands free. You laugh a lot. Ettore grins. He doesn't need much strength to hold you down so you can't tickle him. But you keep trying anyway.

With a smile, he tries to kiss your lips. You push him away and he can't help but laugh.

Eventually you give up and lie in his arms, out of breath. He kisses you.

"I never want to get out of this bed again," you whisper against his lips.

"Then we won't. What do you say we stay in here all day?"

"Hmm... with that way you have a good chance of me spending the day naked in bed with you," you grin at him.

He grins at you.

He caresses your cheek and kisses you gently. His hand strokes down your neck. You feel it glide gently along your breast. A shiver runs down your spine. He gently caresses your belly, he feels your soft skin. You moan softly. He grins against your lips.

He takes off your shirt and admires you. How you lie next to him and gently bite your lower lip. He kisses you again. You let your hand slide down his stomach. Again you feel his muscular belly and again it makes your arousal rise. You let your hand slide into his boxer shorts. A deep rumbling sounds in his chest. His cock is already fully aroused. You stroke it, already feeling the pre cum, spreading it along its length. You put your knee on his hip, he grabs your knee, pulls you closer to him. Your kiss becomes wilder, greedier. His hand slides along your thigh and reaches for your ass. You gasp into his mouth. He lets his hand slide to your folds and immediately feels your wet panties. He grins again. And with one movement your panties are off. You giggle softly. He kisses you again and his fingers slide through your folds. He spreads your wet arousal until he suddenly lets two fingers slide inside you. You moan and your wet walls immediately clench around his fingers.

"Fuck... we should have done this much earlier," he murmurs against your lips.

You just nod and move your hips towards him to meet the movements of his fingers. He lets his fingers disappear faster inside you. He looks down, enjoying the sight.

"Love... you look beautiful with my fingers inside you"

Your moans and the obscene sounds of your wet pussy fill your room.

"I... need you..." you stammer.

He looks at you, nods barely noticeably and kisses you again. You whimper briefly as his fingers slip out of you and don't disappear back inside you. He takes off his boxers, but before he could lie on top of you, you push him onto his back. He looks slightly irritated at first, but lets himself fall back. You sit up and maneuvering your legs to straddle him. Slowly you let his cock slide through your wet folds. He moans deeply. His hot length is quickly drenched with your wet arousal.

You let yourself slide down his length. You both groan as he penetrate deeper and deeper into you. You let yourself slide up and down on his cock. His hands are on your hips, gripping you tightly.

You lean forward, your hands on his chest, and let your hips slam down on him, his cock reaching deeper inside you. Your whimpers are accompanied by his deep groans. He watches as you slam down on his length. How he disappears inside you.

You feel the pleasure in your belly grow stronger. Your thighs begin to tremble.

"Ettore..." you moan.

His gaze drifts to you. His gaze is hazy and full of lust. His hands on your hips keep up the pace as you falter, allowing you to reach your climax.

"Yea... I got you, come on my cock"

That takes you over the edge. You groan and clenche around him. You throw your head back, your hands on his chest gripping tightly.

You ride out your climax on him. You stare at him, breathing heavily, when he suddenly turns you onto your back and does not hesitate long. He immediately fills you completely again. Before you know it, he is thrusting into you at an ungodly pace.

You lie under him and he fucks into you, chasing his own climax. Every thrust of his rubs against the spongy spot inside you. You moan loudly. Your cunt clenches hard around him, he falters briefly and looks into your eyes. His pupils blown wide with lust as he continues his thrusts again, slamming his hips down on you. You let your lips slam down on his, you kiss passionately. Your whimpering against his lips increases with each thrust, his balls slapping against your ass. The sounds fill the room. His hand is on your hip, gripping you tightly. Holds you in place while he thrusts into you. As you realise the desire inside you rises again, your whimper becomes a moan and Ettore looks at you knowingly.

You moan loudly as your orgasm overwhelms you. Your pussy milks his cock, trying to get every drop out of him. Ettore can hold it in no longer, he comes hard. He closes his eyes and moans loudly, followed by deep grunts, he empties his hot seed inside you. His thrusts become sloppier as his orgasm subsides. He breathes heavily and stares into your eyes. He smiles slightly.

Your heavy breathing matches his. You kiss him.

When his arms can no longer hold him, he slides down beside you and pulls you into his arms.

"Now I'm not just going to leave," he murmurs into your hair.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list

@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemond-targaryenx @praline357 @chainsawsangel

#my boop bestie #thanks for reading #lovely moots 💕#ettore

332 notes · View notes

happilyhertale · 20 days

Text

A Beautiful Gift

Billy Washington X (Girlfriend Reader)

Warnings after the cut

Word Count: 3020

Billy Washington Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners and dividers by @arcielee

Based on THIS request

Warnings:: Emotional abuse, Depressed Billy, use of a collar and leash, use of restraints, sub/dom behaviors, slight choking if you squint, teasing, whimpering and whining Billy, orgasm denial, established relationship,unprotected p in v, oral male receiving.

Going out to dinner for Billy's birthday should be a fun experience. Unfortunately, whenever you go out with Billy and his parents, you know it is going to be anything but.

You know his parents love him, and are worried about his lack of success in life, but you have come to know Billy well enough to know that asking him repeatedly when he will get a job or why he isn't doing anything is not going to help motivate him.

"Calm down," you say to him gently as you button up his dress shirt. He is clearly nervous. His fidgety hands and tapping foot give this away all too easily.

"I am calm!" He sqauks. "It's just a bloody dinner." He pushes your hands away from his shirt. "I can do it myself. I'm a man"

You chuckle and sigh. "Of course you're a man, Billy. I was merely attempting to help." You hold up your hands and wiggle your fingers. "Small fingers, easier for me to get those little buttons. Now come here, " you pull him back toward you by his shirt collar.

"You are a man. A wonderful man." You smack your lips down on his and press your body up against him. Your favorite way to ground him when you feel his anxiety starting to overtake him.

"Oh, don't you start this." He laughs as he places his hands on your waist, pulling you impossibly tight up against him. "You'll make us late"

"Hmmmm," you giggle. "I don't think it would be too big a problem if we're a little late." You kiss him again, this time pushing your tongue past his lips, savoring the taste of tea and cigarettes.

"We wouldn't be a little late." he grips your waist tightly, scrunching the material of the cute black dress you had put on for dinner.

"You sure? I happen to remember a few times that were pretty quick, " you giggle again and lean in for another kiss.

Billy brings his hands down over your ass and squeezes tight before letting go and giving you a smack. "You're real funny, ain't ya?"

"I think so." You wink at him and then pull back briefly to finish buttoning his shirt before placing your hands flat on his chest. "You ready?"

"Yeah." He sighs and squeezes the bridge of his nose. "Let's get this over with."

The ride to the restaurant is awkward and quiet. You look over at him periodically as he drives. His jaw is tight, and his shoulders tense. You can see the tendons in his neck going down to his collar bone. You wish you could take this stress from him. Demand, he turn around and leave his parents at the restaurant alone, wondering why their failure son has declined to show up. But you know he would never do this, for there is a part of him that believes, believes that he will someday be the son his parents so want him to be. Something you doubt very much. Their minds are made up about Billy, and you fear if he should reach one goal, his parents would simply set the bar higher.

Once he pulls into the car park and stops the car, the two of you sit there in silence for a moment. You know better than to push him so you wait patiently as he builds himself up enough to go inside.

You know it's in vain, yet you decide to hope anyway. Hope that his parents won't take this dinner as an opportunity to tear him apart. To judge him, scold him, demand more of him. Especially on a day that is meant to celebrate him and his very existence.

Billy lets out one last deep sigh before stepping out of his old beat-up clunker of a car quickly rounding the vehicle to open your door for you.

He was like that. Little things like holding the door open for you or making you a cup of tea without asking were his love language. Acts of service. He had trouble outwardly expressing his emotions, no doubt a conditioned response. So he showed you how he felt, and everyone of these little gestures made you love him just a bit more.

You step out and link your arm with his, patting his forearm in a quiet sign of support.

The walk into the restaurant is silent. You can almost hear Billy's brain running a mile a minute, his self-confidence shrinking with every step.

When you arrive at the table, it's no surprise to you that Lana, Billy's sister, was unable to attend. She worked an important job and missed most family events. Although it almost felt like she was there with how much her parents spoke about her skills and achievements. As if to make it clear to Billy that he would never be able to rise to the occasion the way his ambitious sister had.

The two of you were sat down for no more than 5 minutes before the questions started rolling in from his parents.

"How is the job search going?" Was the first question from his father, and as Billy attempted to explain how many applications he had put in and how he is getting no response, his father shakes his head and simply states "if you really wanted a job you would have one by now."

His mother quickly joins in on the conversation with little tips and tricks of how to land a job and ways to motivate himself.

If only they knew how motivated he is. Billy wants a job. He wants to impress his parents even half as much as Lana. Unfortunately, just like his parents, the world underestimates poor Billy and squishes him down more and more with every rejection.

Dinner continues on in much the same manner, your tongue nearly bleeding at how hard you were biting down on it.

You keep one eye on Billy and watch with a heavy heart how he shrinks by the moment. How could they not see what this is doing to him?

When the dinner finally ends, Billy's father hands him money, a birthday gift of sorts, but of course comes with one last comment to bury Billy just a little bit more.

"You can use this to help pay the rent. I can't imagine that girl staying with you much longer if she's forced to support ya" he pats Billy on the shoulder while Billy stands in place frozen. You feel a fire rage in your belly and wish you could tear into his father. Let him know you would support Billy forever if that's what it took. But you knew this would only upset and embarrass Billy further, so you simply grimace and attempt to hide your eyeroll.

His parents say their goodbyes, not even noticing the state that Billy is in. You sigh again before sliding your hand into his and giving him a gentle tug to signal that it's time to go.

The ride home is silent, and your heart breaks a little bit more every moment he doesn't speak.

"I have some presents for you at home." You say softly, hoping to potentially lighten the mood.

Billy nods his head, his jaw clenched and eyes glued to the road ahead of him. He isn't mad at you. He isn't even mad at his parents. He is mad at himself, and you hate it.

Once back in the flat, Billy immediately goes onto the balcony and smokes. You know he feels awful right now, and you want to badly to make it better. He tries hard and just never seems to succeed in the way everyone expects him to, and the pressure makes it all the worse.

You take the two small gifts you have for him in your hands and join him on the balcony, handing them to him with a big smile on your face.

"Thank you," he grumbles, his voice so quiet you could hardly hear him over the traffic below.

He sits in the chair opposite yours and begins to unwrap his first gift. Inside a collar and a metal chain leash.

He chuckles quietly as he takes them out of the package and looks up at you. "Oh?"

You smile back at him, pointing to the gift that still lies in his lap.

"Open it," you bite your bottom lip as he starts to tear off the paper and lifts the lid of the small box, pulling out two black silk ropes.

He pulls them out of the box, slowly turning the material back and forth in his hands.

"Now I'm gonna go take off my makeup and take down my hair." You say while rising from your chair and moving towards the balcony door. "And when I return to the bedroom, I expect to find you, wearing only your collar." You don't wait for his response opting to instead enter the flat and head to the restroom.

You giggle to yourself as you hear him clamor through the door and take off toward the bedroom, half the buttons on his shirt already undone.

You take off your makeup and let your hair down, making sure not to finish up too fast. You want to give Billy enough time to get ready and give him a moment to sweat it out.

You take off your shoes but leave the little black dress and thigh high stockings you were wearing on. Knowing how Billy feels about you in a pair of thigh highs. It's his special day, after all.

When you enter the bedroom, Billy is lying in bed, his collar, and leash on, covered only by a sheet with the silk ropes placed neatly on the nightstand.

"Who said you could cover up?" You quickly pull the sheet from his body. Revealing his entire naked form to your eye. "I believe my instructions were nothing but your collar." You run just your finger up the skin of his leg as you work your way up to the top of the bed.

When your fingers reach his hip, he shudders.

"Oh?" You place your hand palm down and slide it across his belt line. The side of your hand just barely ghosting by the tip of his now fully erect cock.

Billy's back arches slightly at the touch. "Please don't tease," he begs.

"Me? Oh baby, I never tease you know that" you brush your fingertips through the blonde curls that surround the base of his cock as he whimpers. "Never"

You pull your dress up and over your head, leaving you in nothing but your black lace bra and panties and thigh-high stockings.

Billy reaches his hand out to touch your thigh, and you quickly swat him away.

"Oh, be a good pet baby, so I can give you your treat" you climb onto the bed swinging one leg over his hips so you are straddling him yet hovering above him just out of reach.

"Sorry, sorry," he whines as he crumples the sheets beneath him in his fists.

"Oh, that's ok baby, let me help you be a good boy, ok?" You lean over him, taking the silk straps from the nightstand.

"Thank you," he says between heavy pants. You click your tongue at him knowingly as you tie up his wrists and secure them to the bedposts.

Once you have his hands securely fastened, you lay your hands flat on his chest, rubbing your palms over his quickly hardening nipples.

Billy takes on a sharp breath, his hips lifting slightly from the bed.

"Down boy," you coo, moving your flattened hands in small circles.

"Please baby please" He whines, undulating his hips.

"Please, what? my sweet pet. " You bring your tongue to his nipple. Lightly licking the small bud as he squirms.

"More, please more," he gasps as your tongue continues to swirl around his oversensitive nipple.

Billy pathetic and squirming beneath you. Your favorite sight on earth.

You sit up straight and grab his leash, wrapping it around your hand twice and yanking him up from the bed so that his shoulders are lifted.

"You're gonna be a good patient boy, aren't you?" You bring your face close to his as he nods excessively. "Good. Good boy."

You loosen your grip around the leash, allowing him to sink back down onto the bed while you still keep the leash coiled around your hand.

Billy sighs contendly as you return to his chest, and speckle kisses down his sternum and further to his belly.

He loves these small movements and sensations. They drive him completely wild, and you revel in the power they afford you.

You gently lick the rim of his bellybutton, and he whimpers loudly.

"Shhhh, pet. Shhhh, " you rub your hand along the skin of his waist in a soothing manner while your kisses continue down the path of his body until you reach his hips, his painfully hard cock, next to your face.

"I always take care of you, do i not?" You tease, Billy simply whimpers back at you, leaning his head back in anguish.

You take his cock in your hand and he shudders before bucking his hips whispers of "yes" desperately flooding from his mouth.

You stroke him leisurely while rubbing your nose against his leaking tip. His heavy breathing and the obvious tension in his legs make this all the more tantalizing for you.

You know he is holding back, trying to be a good boy. You lick just the head of his cock. Circling your tongue around the bulbous tip.

Billy thrusts his hips forward, pushing himself further into your mouth, seemingly unable to control himself. You grip him tightly by the hips holding him flat against the bed as he whines.

"Please, please," He whimpers between huffs. "I can't take much more."

You crawl back up his body, situating yourself by straddling his stomach and look down at him, a gentle, caring smile on your face.

"You can't, can you baby?" You brush your fingers along his cheek and sigh.

You step off of him and slowly shimmy your panties down your legs. Billy's eyes watch them as they go, licking his lips, his panting growing heavier. You move back and line up the tip of his cock with your slick entrance.

As you slowly lower yourself down, Billy's body reacts by his hips raising and his legs shaking. The look on his face, a mix of pleasure and pain.

His fingers wrap tightly around the silk straps that connect him to the bedposts as you sink down his shaft at an agonizingly slow pace.

As your ass becomes flush with his thighs, you smirk at the look of relief that crosses his face.

Before you start to move, you again pull him off the bed by the leash, this time coiling it ever tight around your hand.

"You excited, baby?" You start to roll your hips, his cock bullying the spot inside you it never misses when you ride him like this.

"Yes, yes!" He pants, jaw slack looking up at you like the perfect little puppy you know him to be.

You hold him tightly by the leash as you increase your pace, his whimpers, and whines, getting louder with each movement.

You know your Billy. He won't last much longer at this stage, and knowing that brings you almost to your own peak. The friction between you building as you grind against him.

He's so beautiful like this. Panting beneath you, not worrying about disappointing anyone or not being good enough.

He's your silly little pet to be used as you see fit, and he loves it. His eyes roll back and his mouth opens wide.

"Not yet, baby." You move faster against him the knot in your stomach, pulling tighter as your thighs clamp around him.

"Not yet, not yet," he chants to himself. This little sign of obedience is what finally pushes you over the edge into bliss. Your peak washes over you, almost violent in its onset.

Your cunt clamps around him tightly as you continue to grind against him riding out the blissful moment almost to the point of over stimulation.

"Please," He gasps before biting his bottom lip impossibly hard. Poor baby is still holding back.

You make him wait for just a few more rolls of your hips before finally allowing him his release.

"Go ahead, baby." You coo, and almost as soon as the words leave your lips, he moans loudly, his hips stuttering as he spends himself inside you.

You sit patiently atop him as you watch his face contort in pleasure, small grunts of relief coming from his chest until he finally stills exhausted.

You lean forward and kiss his open mouth as he pants and smiles up at you, his arms now hanging limp from the silk straps that bind him.

"Such a good boy you are," you gently stroke his face, him turning his head towards your hand.

This is your favorite Billy. Freshly spent Billy. No worries, no stress, and he actually feels good.

You lift yourself off of him and release his hands from the straps. He quickly wraps his arms around you, pulling you in tightly and kissing the top of your head.

"So, did you like your gifts?" You snuggle up next to him and reach up to help him take the collar off.

Billy simply smiles as you remove the collar, rubbing your hand against the slightly red irritated skin.

"I hope you don't bruise!" You say worriedly. Lifting yourself up on your arm and leaning over him to get a better look.

Billy chuckles and looks up at you, resting his hand on your cheek.

"I hope I do. A bruise necklace from you? Now that's a beautiful gift."

He pulls you back against him, your head on his chest hearing his heartbeat in your ears. Little does he know that to you.

This is the most beautiful gift.

To be added to taglists please see HERE

#reblogging #boop bestie #lovely moots 💕#billy washington

121 notes · View notes

happilyhertale · 20 days

Text

Hen valyrio uēpo ānogār (The Blood of Old Valyria)

HOTD: Daemon Targaryen x WOC!reader

Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI)

WC: 2.7k

For anon request: Daemon x POC!reader, nipple stimulation (I got carried away and created a whole canon divergence for this)

Warnings: Nipple stimulation (including use of clamps), thigh riding, blood magic, sex magic, biting/marking, canon divergence

Exiled from Westeros, Daemon finds himself in Volantis. Behind the Black Wall, he meets you, blood from one of the long-lost houses

*comments/reblogs are appreciated

Humidity clung in the night air, hot and heavy like a weighted veil of mist. You were accustomed to the heat, having spent your whole life in Volantis, and the paramour warming your bed did not seem bothered by it. You turned your head toward him, sweat beading down your neck from your perch on the windowsill as your dark curls clung to your clammy cheeks, a silk red pillow stuffed with feathers providing you some comfort. Daemon Targaryen was sprawled across the bed, a thin sheet of crimson silk draped over his lower half, just enough to provide some modesty. His pale skin glistened in the candlelight, and the long tendrils of his silver hair clung to the pillow beneath him. In the distance, you heard the faint roar of his dragon, Caraxes, stirring the memories in your mind.

Volantis gladly welcomed the exiled prince, inviting him to live inside the Black Wall. Only those who could trace their lineage back to Old Valyria were allowed to live amongst the sprawling labyrinth of palaces, courtyards, and temples. The Old Blood had invited him the moment his dragon dug his talons into the ground. Your family had dwelled there for centuries; your lineage traced back to Aerion, the first dragon rider, and your ancestors scattered across the various Free Cities beyond the Freehold. You were quite proud of your indigo eyes, rich sepia skin, and thick ebony curls, often donning vibrant, alluring silks of cobalt, jade, orange, and yellow to compliment your looks. Not all Valyrians resembled the Targaryens, as Valyria had once boasted a diverse population. The prince seemed taken with you the moment his lilac eyes rested on your form.

“Dārilaros issa, ñuhus talus! (he is a prince, my daughter). Targāries dārilaros issa. Ozgūrō zirys (He is a Targaryen prince, capture him),” your mother hissed in your ear. Her own purple eyes flashed with intrigue and envy. Pale strands of silver weaved through her otherwise dark hair. Most of your ancestral house was destroyed in The Doom; only a few members remained, and joining your blood with a powerful surviving dynasty would have been wise. There were no Targaryens who lived behind the wall.

“Gaoman, muñus (I will perform, Mother),” you mumbled, rolling your eyes, though the thought of bedding Daemon Targaryen was tempting—a conquest to be boasted. However, the deeper yearning of joining your bloodline with his to unit two ancient houses, one lost to time and one in the height of glory, would be an extraordinary undertaking indeed.

You volunteered to show him around the thriving, walled city, arranging a palanquin for the travel. You even arranged for lighter-weight clothing to be tailored for him. He looked dashing in the red tunic that showed off his sculpted chest and sand silk trousers. You introduced him to cold soup made with vibrant purple beets and the sweet red wine that populated the city. A taste he wrinkled his nose at in the beginning before growing accustomed to it. He was delighted by your ability to speak in the ancient tongue of Old Valyria, sharing many conversations with him. You gasped at the feeling of Caraxes beneath your trembling thighs as Daemon took you for a flight. You felt transported back in time as you soared through the cerulean skies, the wind gently caressing your face as the red beast soared, pondering if this was how your ancestors felt.

One hand remained on the reigns while his other arm tightened around your waist before he shouted, “Drakarys!”

The blood wyrm unleashed a hot blast of burning red dragonfire, the flames eclipsing the white clouds. Heat singed your skin as delight erupted across your face. You settled on the city's edge where the Rhonye flowed into the Summer Sea, your head in Daemon’s lap.

“I have always dreamed of a dragon of my own,” you whispered, twisting the rings around his fingers.

“Mayhaps we shall have to find you one,” he chuckled before sliding a plump grape between your bronze lips.

“How lovely that would be,” you hummed, closing your eyes and imagining wondrous feat, secretly wishing your blood would call out to a dragon.

On one balmy afternoon, you escorted him to a temple dedicated to the Old Gods of Valyria.

“I must admit it refreshing to see Valyrian culture thriving. I fear it is slowly fading away in Westeros,” he commented, your arm linked through his.

“That is sad to hear; it was a disappointment to learn Aegon had abandoned them for the Seven. I suppose it is up to those who live on to continue such traditions, or they will fade away altogether,” you hummed, approaching the altar of Arrax with him. Fourteen candles crafted from dragonglass surrounded the altar, their bright flame illuminating the temple, and in the middle rested a vast, petrified dragon’s egg. Daemon turned to face you, raising a pale brow. Throughout the temple, marble statues of the gods and goddesses stood, and various offerings of fruit, flowers, milk, and sweet cakes rested at their sculpted feet.

“It is said to belong to Aegarax,” you explained.

“Creator of the first dragon,” Daemon murmured, reaching out to trace his fingertips along the ridges of the stone egg.

“You know your histories well,” you smiled.

“I have always been proud of my heritage.”

“As you should be, there are not many of us left these days, not since the doom. Even though the Targaryens became kings with their dragons, the Velaryons rule the sea, and the Celitgars boast their coins and crabs,” you jested.

He chuckled softly, his eyes transfixed on the egg. “Go on, pick it up, hold it, and feel its power,” you encouraged.

His large hands faltered momentarily before lifting the heavy egg, marveling at its size and weight.

“I must admit…I was never one to believe much in magic until now,” he whispered, “But here, I can feel it all around me.”

“You are among people where ancient blood and magic thrive, the closest you will get to the fallen Freehold. Mayhaps the gods guided you here,” you smiled as he gently placed the egg back on the altar.

Daemon knelt before the altar, closing his eyes as the light afternoon breeze wafted through his long, silver hair. He murmured a prayer in the ancient tongue as your hand rested on his shoulder. While he had never been one pulled to worship, Volantis made him feel differently. In Westeros, he felt ignored and pushed to the side while his brother faltered the heavy crown he had been blessed with inheriting. Daemon would pave his own path, and thrive in Volantis.

“Ñuhus lentos bisus (this is my home),” he stated, and he did not return to Westeros. He stayed with you behind the Black Wall.

“My bed may be warm, but I am rather lonely,” he huffed, opening one eye to peer at you before outstretching his hand.

You flexed your toes before standing, pressing your palm into his and allowing him to draw you close. You straddled his waist, the swell of your backside pressing against his hard cock.

“You are a goddess, more beautiful than Syrax herself,” he hummed as his large hands explored the contours and curves of your bare body.

“You flatter me,” you teased.

“I do not flatter just anyone,” he pointed out as you removed the silk covering his lower half before you shifted to straddle his muscular thigh. He pressed his large hands to your breasts, the rings around his fingers warm and soothing against your skin. He kneaded your flesh slowly, your nipples scraping against his calloused palms.

“Oh, I am well aware. You can be quite coarse with your words when you dislike someone,” you chortled as his fingers rolled your tawny, pebbled buds between his rough fingertips. You mewled softly while you rocked against his thigh, arousal seeping from you.

“You are quite pretty when I take you apart,” Daemon commented, removing his hands before leaning closer to trace his pink tongue over your pert nipple before his lips closed around it, teeth scraping over the tender flesh.

Your fingers tangled in his long hair as you rutted against his thigh, moaning and thrashing in pleasure.

“I bet I can make you peak just from this,” he murmured tauntingly around your wet flesh. He continued suckling and nibbling at your puckered flesh before you spilled your release across his thigh. A smug smirk stretched over his mouth.

“Mmm, and you would be correct, my prince,” you purred before panting softly to gain your breath.

He pressed his face between your breasts, nuzzling the area tenderly before humming softly as his arms circled your waist. You gently combed your fingers through his moonglow hair, enjoying this soft moment with him as the heat clung to the city.

You wed him in the fashion of Old Valyria, the vows falling easily from your tongue as he sliced open your palms and then your lips. Primitive blood intermixing, binding two families together. Your mother was delighted, her eyes shining with pride during the ceremony. He wore the traditional robes and hat, silver hair toppling down his shoulder. It reached well below his waist now, and you would braid together the strands in the private, tender moments. Your family had painted your hands in Valyrian glyphs, various blessings bestowed upon your union in hopes of a fruitful and happy marriage. Golden suns decorated your eyes to honor Gaelithox, the god your house was devoted to and from which your surname was derived. It mattered not that he had a wife back in Westeros; Valyrians did not abide by the rules of men. The celebrations lasted well into the evening until midnight blue bathed the dusky sky.

Night fell, and your handmaids giggled as they ushered you into the streets before guiding you into the palanquin draped in red silk. You were about to scold them before Aliandra offered an explanation.

“Your husband requests your presence at the temple.”

You quickly settled, nodding as you were whisked down the dark streets. Daemon was there to greet you at the stone steps of the temple, offering you a hand to escort you from the palanquin. He pulled you close before kissing you deeply.

“Mmm, what are we doing here, valzȳrys (husband),” you purred against his warm mouth.

“I could think of no place better than to bed you on our wedding night, ābrazȳrys (wife),” he smirked.

“You are shameless,” you chided playfully before he guided you inside.

Crimson silk and soft white furs decorated the intricate marble flood as Daemon worked to free you from the scant amethyst dress that hugged your curves, leaving the dagger strapped to your thigh. You shivered as he bared your body, his hands squeezing over you to warm you up.

“I have a present for you,” he whispered in your ear, his hand spanning across your belly before dipping lower to cup your cunt with his palm, fingers stoking your wetness.

“I do adore presents,” you purred, heat prickling over your skin as his deft fingertips stroked across your wetness.

You whined softly as he pulled away, presenting you with a small bundle of silk. You unwrapped the fabric, revealing two delicate, petite steel clamps.

“I had them crafted from Valyrian steel in honor of our heritage,” he grinned, picking one up. He bent his head before blowing a puff of air over your nipple, the flesh quickly pebbling. He repeated his movements before attaching each clamp.

You shifted on the balls of your feet as you adjusted to the pleasant pain thudding through your body.

“I love them, Daemon,” you purred, your hands reaching out to undo the belt that secured Dark Sister to his waist.

Your hands smoothed over his chest, spanning along his shoulders before sliding to his hips. His cock stood rigid and hard, pearly beads leaking from his tip. You caressed his hardness, finger stroking over him.

“Meleys rijan,(praise Meleys). Bantis sūs leghan (you will fill me with a babe tonight),” you cried out, your voice echoing around the walls of the empty temple. You removed the dagger strapped to your thigh before piercing your fingertip. Across Daemon’s pale chest, you placed the glyph symbolizing Aegarax before placing the blade in his hand. He sliced through his own skin and painted the symbol of Meleys on your lower belly, his blood warm against your skin.

Daemon stretched beneath you on the fur as you mounted him, slowly rolling your hips as his cock sank deep inside you. Your nails raked down his alabaster chest, leaving red weals behind. He twisted into the pain, fingers digging into your hips as he thrust beneath you. He had met his match in you—his goddess. Just as you were about to reach a most blessed peak, Daemon maneuvered your body to switch positions, with you on his back as he pounded into you.

You felt every deep, powerful thrust, fingers digging into his back as blood welled beneath your nails. Your legs gripped his waist, one heel pressing against the firm curve of his arse as you cried out in pleasure. Heat pulsated through the temple as he fucked you under the unmoving eyes of the gods and goddesses who had created your kind. Your nipples ached under the sharp bite of the clamps as something awakened deep inside you. White hot and crackling, a magic blooming to life.

“Ñuhus dārilaros (my prince),” you bellowed.

“Ñuhus jaehios (my goddess),” he purred in your ear before his mouth claimed the curve of your neck.

He snapped his hips hard before growing still against you while his seed filled you. You murmured a hazy prayer to Meleys, imploring her to bless you with Daemon’s babe. As each came down from the high, you held his face in your hands while his nimble fingers removed the clamps, his thumbs gently circling your sore flesh. His lips pressed to yours, soft and slow at first before turning more animalistic. Teeth clashing, flesh splitting as you rolled each other’s blood around your tongues. The flames flickered brighter from the candles, bathing the temple in an eerie, amethyst glow. You gasped at the loud crack that pierced the air.

Daemon moved swiftly, grabbing Dark Sister as he took measure of the room. You pushed to your feet, approaching the altar to discover the petrified egg shaking as cracks blossomed across its stone shell.

“Daemon!” you gasped, motioning him over.

He stood behind you, one arm looping around your waist as his chin rested on your shoulder, watching the egg split and crumble into ash. You observed with shock and awe as a small dragon, the color of shimmering rubies, emerged from the shell. It was the size of a newborn kitten, tiny wings furled tightly against its horned back. You stretched your hand out, its small muzzle pressing against your fingertips.

“Kirimvys ñuhus jorepan udlitan (thank you for answering my prayer),” you whispered as you guided Daemon’s hand to rest on your belly.

With your guidance and alliance with Lord Corlys Velayron, Daemon defeated Craghas Drahar and named himself King of the Narrow Sea, taking Bloodstone as his seat. You were crowned queen alongside him, your belly rounded with a second child as you held your son, Aemax, close. He was kissed with silver curls and skin that matched yours with shimmering violet eyes. Two red dragons circled above the sprawling castle, their roars filling the sky as the sun set in the distance, reds bleeding into the sky before it disappeared.

“Ñuhus dārys (my king),” you beamed at Daemon.

“Ñuhus dārys (my queen),” he purred, grazing his lips across your knuckles before his hand pressed to your swollen belly.

As you stood on the stone parapet alongside him, you watched as Silverwing swooped down, landing on the ground with a massive thud. Before Daemon had departed for battle in the Stepstones, the glittering silver dragon was spotted over the port of Volantis, searching for you, her next bonded rider. There were many things you could not explain, but the moment you saw her, you knew she was there for you. Your blood had called to her, sending her on a journey to the Free Cities. Her heart thrummed in time with yours when you sat in her saddle, taking her for flight.

The old Valyria had long been destroyed, but a new one dawned on the horizon with you and Daemon to guide and produce the future generation.

Taglist: @targaryen-dynasty @watercolorskyy

#reblogging #lovely fae #lovely moots 💕#daemon targaryen

401 notes · View notes

happilyhertale · 20 days

Text

STRESS RELIEF.

Daemon Targaryen x female!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; implied canon typical incest/ targcest (no named relationship other than husband & wife but reader speaks high valyrian), oral (m receiving), balls sucking, balls worship, cock slapping, breeding kink, fem reader (no mentions of appearance)

WORDS: 2.9 K

NOTES: I KNOW I said you won't get anything from me for the next two weeks, but this is an old story I love and edited, and I'm always in the mood to suck his balls. Ty Lana @zaldritzosrose 🤍

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

The door to your chambers bursting open with a thud, the thick wood slamming against the old masonry of Maegor’s Holdfast, is what forcefully pulls you out of your slumber.

As your eyes shoot open, you need a few seconds to adjust to the dim light of your chambers, the flame of the fireplace long extinguished and indicating it’s been a while since you found sleep.

Every sense of tiredness that has lingered in your bones vanishes suddenly at the noisy intrusion, more so as you spot the armor-clad silhouette of your husband standing at the threshold of your marital quarters.

He appears to be even more bulky and bull-like with the natural broadness of his shoulders accentuated by the heavy armor and the golden cloak, and just that sight alone has an aching desire filling your veins.

It’s the closer look you take that makes you aware of his labored breathing, chest rising and falling with heaving breaths, almost seeming as though he’s in great stress.

Whenever Daemon barges into your chambers at this hour, still wearing his armor, you know he needs to be consoled and pampered.

“Husband?” Your soft voice finally pierces through the silence, still thick with sleep from being awoken so abruptly.

A few, determined strides is all it takes him to enter the room, closing the door behind him as loudly as he’s opened it before. Although you know something is plaquing his mind, and that he’s not usually as harsh towards you as this, you still flinch at the thud.

Sitting up straight with the bedcovers bunched in front of your breasts, you have a puzzled look on your face. One of the few things Daemon has established fairly early into your marriage was the strict prohibition of you wearing any kind of smallclothes or nightgowns to bed, as he wants you to lie just as bare next to him as he always does.

He always states that there are quite a few practical reasons for it, with easier and quicker access to your cunt being the main one of them. Albeit you know for certain that he just loves to feel your skin on his when he falls asleep, solely embraced by the warmth and softness of your body snuggled up against his.

Clashing of metal accompanies his heavy footsteps as he approaches you, stern gaze fixed on your small frame.

The closer he gets, the more you are able to make out his chiseled features with long strands of his silver-blonde hair framing them perfectly. Even in the almost non-existent light of your chambers you notice the dark blown eyes, the adored lilac almost fully eclipsed by pitch black.

“Va aōha ybon,” he rasps, voice deep and commanding, and leaving no space for any kind of objection. On your knees.

You comply swiftly, the bedcovers thrown aside to reveal your naked form. A somewhat feral growl ripples through your husband’s chest at the sight, the curves and dips of your body enhanced by the light the moon casts through the windows.

The stone floor feels cold and hard as you sink to your knees, causing you to shift your weight from one knee to the other and back, trying to mend the discomfort at least slightly.

It usually requires your help to strip him off his heavy armor, but much to your surprise, Daemon manages to shred himself out of the majority of it all by himself, driven by sheer lust and hunger for you.

Where his silver hair is usually well combed and neat, the loose tresses now cascade down his shoulders and back visibly tousled and dirty.

Your hands lie folded in your lap, thumbs brushing over each other in a way to keep yourself calm. You have been married to Daemon for two summers, but know his silence never means anything good. It is threatening, and more often than not getting you into trouble, because he always has something to say.

As he stands in front of you in his full glory, only clad in a pair of dark breeches and a loose tunic, you hesitantly reach to place a hand on his sturdy thigh while his hand cups your cheek in return. Finding yourself leaning into the touch, you’re quickly repulsed as you catch a whiff of what smells like sweat, dirt and… iron.

“What have you done today?“ you ask innocently, though you aren’t sure if you want to hear his reply – that means if you even get one.

While the pad of his thumb brushes over the curve of your lips, his other hand slowly unlaces the front of his breeches, easing the confines of his half-hard member, and causing a wave of arousal to seep out of your cunt, anticipation making it clench around nothing.

“Oh, we have restored law and order,“ he purrs, the cocky smirk on his lips indicating that he’s more than satisfied with the outcome of it all. “The Kingsguard cleaned the streets from the city‘s scum.“

Listening intently, you just nod in acknowledgement, not at all surprised by your husband‘s actions. “And does the king know you did that?“

“I do not care if the king knows or not,“ he spits, impatiently tugging the front of his breeches down just enough to free his cock and stones. “He is blind, guided by the incompetent leech that claims to be his hand.“

A musky scent hits your nose when you catch sight of his thick cock. His musky scent, mixed with the salty smell of sweat. It has you licking your lips like a greedy whore, and if anything, you love it. It’s a sharp reminder that you have married a hardworking and ambitious man, and not a boy.

Your hand instinctively curls around his member, your index finger and thumb barely touching. His girth has always been something that impresses you. He’s considerable, leaving you wondering at times how it even fits into your mouth and cunt.

You slowly tug him to full hardness, stroking him the way you know he likes, even though your pace is a bit slower than usual. You listen to him rant about his brother, and the insolence of his hand, Otto Hightower, merely humming whenever your husband expects you to.

Once his cock stands to full attention, throbbing in your hand, you release it and instead fondle his stones, heavy and hot in your hand. The fleshy pouch they sit in is a bit darker than the rest of his pale skin and visibly sagged, but doesn’t hang too low.

Your actions earn a disapproving tsk from Daemon, despite the visible twitching of his cock at the new stimulation, and he wastes no time in fisting a good bit of your hair to shove your face towards his crotch. The scent is more prominent the closer you get, but not at all repulsing. Instead, it arouses you even more.

You’re not sure if it’s Daemon‘s usual lack of patience or his abnormal obsession with the king and his entourage that makes him greedy and needy for your touch, but you decide to not give in to him so easily.

Gently squeezing and fondling the sack of his stones, your tongue licks a flat stripe from the base of his member up to the bulbous tip of it. A salty taste lingers on your tongue, the few beads of his arousal quickly gathered and swallowed by you. You hum appreciatively at the taste, seemingly pleased to witness the affect your touch and presence has on your husband‘s body.

A sharp tug on your hair catches your attention and makes you yelp, your wide eyes finding your husband‘s demanding ones. “Quit playing games,“ he growls. A warning. But he should know by now that you are not one of his hounds, and what works with them doesn’t necessarily intimidate you.

Your tongue swirls around the tip of his cock, kitten-licking it until his heavy pants are replaced by annoyed huffs and grunts. Daemon doesn’t like you teasing him – not when he craves relief.

You keep your eyes neatly trained on him, studying his changing expressions to know whenever you’re playing with fire, and when it is best to follow his commands. Switching the positions of your mouth and hand, warmth brushes your face before the familiar musk seeps into your head.

Closing your eyes as all your senses are clouded by him, you latch on Daemon’s sac of stones, nuzzling your nose into the dark, coarse hair to take one of them in your mouth. Low purrs ripple from your throat, sending vibrations through his body.

You haven’t noticed, but your thighs clench and unclench repeatedly with each suck of your mouth, trying to soothe the aching settling at the apex of your legs. However, it doesn’t grant you the friction you crave.

“My, my, now look at that,“ Daemon coos. “Sucking my stones like a common whore. So desperate to have your mouth filled by me, hm?“

The condescending tone of his voice sends shivers up your spine, and you keen at the degrading nature of his words, moaning around his slightly slacked flesh.

Daemon is unable to tear his dark blown eyes from your full mouth struggling to take both of his stones. You’re trying so hard, but your mouth isn’t slack enough, causing you to nearly choke yourself trying to please him.

Droplets of your saliva dribble from the corners of your mouth down your chin, gathering in your jugular notch, and really making you look like you belong to the Street of Silk; a common whore desperate for her mouth to be stuffed by something, and not caring if it was filled by his stones or cock.

While you are messily suckling the sack of his stones, you tease a few licks up his length, tracing the prominent vein on the underside of it with the tip of your tongue.

You relish in the way he twitches and squirms under your touch, the deep grunts only spurring you on even more. But you also are soaked for him, core clenching and aching, begging to be used.

Daemon has started to tug himself off at the sight of your lips around his flesh, big hand the perfect size for his considerable length, while his other tightly fists into your hair to keep you where he wants you.

You hollow your cheeks around him, sucking with the tip of your tongue dragging over the sensitive skin. The familiar taste of manhood lingers on your tongue, and your jaw goes slack, finally managing to engulf his whole sac with your mouth. But when you try to pull away for a breath, Daemon only snorts and pulls you right back to his stones.

He harshly tugs on your hair, tilting your head back so you are forced to look at him when he slaps his hard cock against your face. Your saliva adds a sheen to his flushed skin, making him glisten in the dim light, and catches your attention, your eyes trailing over the length of his cock – you want nothing more than to feel those veins on your tongue.

As his cock repeatedly makes contact with your swollen lips and cheeks, the indecency of it all sends heat straight through your body, for it’s the first time he has ever done something like that.

Daemon bows forward, looming over your frame but coming close enough for you to feel his breath fanning over your face. Goosebumps prickle on your skin, and his intense lilac eyes send desire straight to your jumbled mind.

“What a wanton harlot you are,” his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Whores of the Silk Street do such things.”

While his degrading words go straight to your head, making you eager for more, you still cower beneath his dominating presence. “Yn ao hae ziry,” you reply, cocking your head sideways in an innocent way. But you like it.

It seems that your feigned innocence doesn’t convince him, because you suddenly feel something warm and wet dripping down your cheeks; his saliva. He has spat on your cheek, spreading it over your heated skin with a satisfied smirk ghosting over his features. Daemon rarely enjoys having you talk back at him, to tease him, and right now clearly isn’t one of those moments.

At the realization of what he’s just done, you feel your voice tighten in your throat, your lips pressing into a thin line as embarrassment floods your veins.

“Gaoman, yn…,” he muses, bending back and tracing the tip of his length along the slit of your pouty lips. “...nyke hae ziry tolī skori gaomā daor ȳdragon rȳ mirre.” With these words leaving his lips, his cock hits your cheek once again, almost as if he’s making fun of you. I do, but I like it more when you do not speak at all.

The grip on your hair loosens only for him to cup your cheek, fingertips digging sharply into the flushed skin of your cheeks. His other hand repeatedly taps the tip of his cock against your swollen lips in a demanding manner, begging for entrance.

“Open your mouth, or else I am opening it for you.”

You wet your lips, just the mere thought of having him down your throat causes a sense of soreness to linger in the back of it, and Daemon seems to notice your apprehension.

“I see your mouth begging for my cock, you filthy slut. Don’t act like an insufficient brat for you have done this plenty of times before.” He is right, but that doesn’t mean you’ll ever get used to his sheer size. Your thoughts, however, are cut short because Daemon isn’t Daemon, if he doesn’t take matters into his own hands.

The tip of his cock prods against your lips, and with the grip on your face tightening, you are all but forced to part them for him. There’s only little to no time to adjust to his size granted to you, because he sheaths himself inside of you in one, swift thrust.

A few seconds pass in which neither of you moves. Your nose is nuzzled against his pubic bone, the tip of it brushing the wispy trail of his hair, and you try to stifle the urge to gag and choke around him, your hands getting ahead with clutching his muscular thighs to keep yourself grounded.

Every muscle of his body twitches with pleasure as he grows accustomed to the warmth and tightness of you, his head tipping back to release a bawdy groan.

And then his hips start to buck into your mouth, allowing a wave of fresh air to fill your lungs when he almost completely pulls out; only the tip remaining embraced between your lips. A firm hand locks behind your head to stop you from pulling back.

Daemon’s hips thrust into your mouth with reckless abandon like he belonged into it, the bulbous tip hitting the back of your throat but never giving you anything you can’t handle. He knows you can take it, and that you like it.

The lewd noises of his soaked cock easing in and out of your warm mouth fill the room, spurring him on even more. At this point, you are soaking wet for him, droplets of your arousal leaking onto the stone floor beneath your legs.

Your cheeks hollow around him as you choke and sputter around his length, spit dribbling down your chin and bosom. His stones tighten with his cock throbbing on your tongue, ready to spend himself down your throat at any given moment, your previous teasing clearly coming in handy.

There are tears brimming in your eyes, unhelpful when all you want is to look up at him, watch how he scrunches his brow and puckers his lips as he gazes at you in rapture.

“That’s it,” Daemon groans, the pace of his hips faltering as he chases his release. “Take it all.” And that is when you felt it.

His hot seed spills down your throat, coating your tongue. You gag slightly when his hips start to stutter, cock twitching and pulsing with the force of his peak. Droplets of his seed spill from the corners of your mouth, mixing with your saliva and dribbling down your chin while you struggle to swallow the rest.

Nonsense spews out of his mouth as his groans grow more wanton, no doubt losing awareness of his volume. You are destined to be the main topic of the court's whispers in the morrow, just like your mother and father have been before you.

His fingers comb through your hair slowly, stroking your head as if he’s thanking you for a job well done, while he rides out his peak with languid thrusts of his hips.

When he finally stops to regain his composure, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath he takes, he allows you to pull back from him, a string of your saliva connecting your swollen lips with the bulbous head of his cock, only breaking as you lick your lips to gather the remnants of his spent.

“Ñuha sȳz riña,” he rasps, pulling you up on your feet to capture your lips in a heated kiss. The taste of him on your tongue spreads over his tongue and causes him to groan. My good girl.

Like a man possessed, he flips you around and easily throws you onto your marital bed. When you land on your stomach with him following closely behind, mounting you and straddling your arse, you squeal and chuckle, ecstatic that it’s finally your turn.

“Tonight is the night I shall put a child into you. I want to see your body swell with my seed.”

Daemon Taglist: @barbiedragon @hypocritic-trash-baby @schniiipsel @avalyaaa @baizzhu @yn-jackson

#reblogging #lovely laura #lovely moots 💕#daemon targaryen

501 notes · View notes

happilyhertale · 20 days

Note

Me, looking at you

YES!! WE SHOULD!

🤭😄

If you receive this, you make somebody happy! Go on anon and send this to 10 of your followers who make you happy or somebody you think needs cheering up. If you get one back, even better🌹💕

x3x3x3

we should KISS 😈

#lovely hannah #lovely moots 💕

5 notes · View notes

happilyhertale · 21 days

Text

🤭🤭Daddy Daemon will come and cure you 💋💋

The Rogue Prince - Daemon Targaryen x wife!reader

Summary: After a stressful day that leaves Daemon in a bit of an angry mood, you decide to give him some relief. But in a different way than you usually do.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x poc!wife!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Minors do not continue reading!

Author’s note: Hey you (: A one-shot Daemon story requested by Anon 🖤 It took me some time but I hope you like it! English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 3.5 k

Other stories of mine

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You didn't have to look up, just the way the door slammed open was enough of a sign for you to know - Daemon was pissed. He entered without knocking, his armour clattering against itself.

In a mixture of snorts and grumbles, your husband strode into your chambers. As you lifted your gaze, your warm hazel eyes met the captivating intensity of his purple eyes, sending a shiver down your spine. Your curious gaze wandered further, discovering the mess of dirt and the almost macabre pattern of dried blood clinging to him. Uncertainly, you put aside the book you were engrossed in and approached Daemon, who was already in the process of freeing himself from the constricting confines of his armour. But before you could approach him, a piece of his armour flew into the far corner of the room.

"It will not improve your mood if you damage your armour," you say gently and help him to open his armour.

He just looks at you and his gaze makes you shiver a little again.

"What do I care about this fucking armour?" he hisses.

You look at him and your hands continue to work on the buckles and remove the chest piece.

"You want to tell me what happened?" you ask quietly.

There is a brief silence in your chambers and you use the time to admire his muscular chest, visible under his shirt. His body does not fail to bring you to ecstasy.

You look into his eyes again as he begins to speak.

"None of these idiots in this council understand the importance of cleansing our city of these filthy criminals! Not one!" he hisses.

You nod at him and try to concentrate on his words and not let his body distract you.

Your hands continue to work on the buckles of his armour.

"The city is full of disgusting creatures. They steal, they kill, they rape and none of those cunts at that council table give a shit!" he continues to hiss.

"But you do," you say softly and his eyes meet yours.

"I will teach these people to fear the golden cloaks again," he says in his deep voice.

You smile slightly and take off the last piece of his armour. Your fingers begin to take off his shirt.

"First we have to clean you up," you say gently.

Daemon's soft chuckle, markedly different from his previous behaviour, resounds through the air as he spreads his arms and asks you to release him from his shirt. His shimmering silver lengths fall over his shoulders, framing the network of scars etched into the skin of his neck and nape. These battle-scarred marks, created by victories and fire, are revealed in all their glory.

Your fingertips run tenderly over these well-deserved scars, your soft olive hue a striking contrast to his pale skin. You relish these imprints of his commanding prowess on the battlefield, each scar telling its own story, a testament to his unwavering leadership qualities. Daemon watches the movements of your fingers and notices how your gaze is fixed on his chest, unable to avert your gaze.

"Are you sure you just want to bathe me?" he murmurs, and your gaze jumps to his eyes.

You smile slightly, "Yes, I do," you say seriously and take his hand, leading him into the adjoining bathroom. Daemon grunts in disappointment, but lets himself be led along. The bath is quickly prepared and warm steam rises from the tub.

Daemon stands next to the tub of hot water and begins to open his trousers. As they slide down, you can see his already hardening arousal, but you avert your gaze and go to a small dresser in the corner of the bathroom.

Daemon watches you, a grin on his lips.

"Oh come on... You can't ignore my needs like that..." he says, but you interrupt him.

"Into the warm water with you," is all you say as you look through small bottles on the dresser to find the right one. You have these little vials from your home in Dorne, filled with different elixirs, and this time you want to put him in the right, stimulating mood.

Daemon grumbles something unintelligible, but obeys and gets into the tub. His gaze is fixed firmly on your back.

"Will you at least keep me company?" he asks, and you can hear in his voice that he is getting impatient.

You turn to him and smile, "No... at least not in the water," you say softly.

With two bottles in your hand, you stride to the bathtub. In the soft, flickering light created by candles, Daemon's gaze fixes on you and you can see an unspoken desire in the depths of his eyes to just grab you. But instead of giving in to temptation, his hands grip the edge of the tub. He leans back slightly and lets you pleasure him, a sign of trust he has only in you.

You kneel behind him, set the vials aside and carefully remove the hair ribbon from its silken lengths. As the ribbon gives up its hold, his hair falls gracefully over his shoulders. The once shining silver strands, now clouded with dirt and sweat, literally crave your touch. You gently begin to work water into the lengths, and the soothing rhythm elicits a contented murmur from Daemon as his eyes are gently closed.

Your hand wanders to a vial, its lid giving way with a soft, melodic pop at your careful touch. At this slight disturbance, Daemon's eyes flicker open to take in the unexpected intrusion.

"What's that?" he murmurs. You smile slightly, "Lavender oil... I like it when your hair smells fresh," you say soflty.

Daemon reflects your soft smile, "All right... If my Dornish princess wants me to smell like a silly bush from the garden, I don't think I could refuse," he mutters. With a smile, you apply a few drops of oil to his shiny silver locks and enjoy the feel of his long strands gliding through your fingers as the accumulated dirt runs effortlessly down.

After pampering him with your grooming, you rise and hand Daemon a towel. With a synchronised movement, he accepts the towel, and as he dries himself, you return to the bedroom with the other vial of elixir. Daemon follows you silently, his shapely form wrapped in the loosely hanging towel.

"Now you're going to take care of my needs?" he says to you, a cheeky smile around his lips. And at that moment you notice the bulge under the towel. You smile, "Lie down on the bed," you say.

Daemon's smile widens, like that of a child who finds an unexpected, delicious treat. He complies with your request and lies down in your marital sanctuary - the very bed where he makes you squirm and beg every night. But this night it will be different.

With an expectant gaze, Daemon watches your every move. How you slowly take off your dress and walk towards the bed. You crawl onto the bed and his hands reach out longingly to pull you close.

But you push them away, "Hands by your side," you say and move to sit astride him. Daemon looks irritated, but he obeys. You take the bottle and open it while Daemon watches you closely.

"More lavender oil?" he asks, "You know I'll have trouble commanding my men if my whole body smells like a flower bouquet" he says.

With a soft chuckle, you murmur, "Not a hint of lavender..." as the delicate scents of osmanthus and patchouli dance around you, washing you with their stimulating embrace as you place a few drops of the oil on your warm palm. Daemon's eyes remain fixed, transfixed by your hands as you set about the task of massaging the oil into his powerful chest.

"And I don't think you'll have any problems commanding your men.... No matter how you smell..." you say softly.

Daemon can only growl slightly as he slowly feels the effect of the scents and his arousal presses harder against you. You can feel a slight movement of his hips as he tries to grind against you. You stare into his eyes as your hands continue to glide over his skin.

"Don't move," you say to him. Daemon grunts, but he obeys - again.

You hear his breathing become more irregular as your hand turns to his belly. Slowly you massage the oil into the muscles of his belly, but your hands are unstoppable. You sit up a little and release him from the towel and his hot length springs free. It twitches wildly as you begin to rub his pubic hair with the oil. It twitches even more wildly as your hands turn to the shaft of his cock, which almost invites you to let yourself sink onto it. Daemon grunts impatiently, wanting to move his hips again, to somehow get close to your cunt.

"Don't," you just whisper, and your hands begin to wander up and down. You hear him gasp, see his hands gripping the sheet beneath you tightly. Your hands slide faster as his member literally pulses. Daemon breathes faster and faster as he chases his climax and you can already see the first drops of his release coming from the tip of his cock. You lean down and lick them away and hear him hiss.

"Woman, you will be my death," he whispers breathlessly. You just look up at him, grinning a little, and bite your lip. Your hand slides up and down faster.

It also increasingly excites you that he could just grab you, push you onto the bed and thrust into you, but he does not. He lies there and lets the feelings and actions wash over him.

When suddenly you feel a strong twitch in his member and Daemon spurts his hot seed onto his belly. He grunts loudly and watches you pump the last drops of cum out of his cock. He breathes heavily and closes his eyes briefly. His head falls back on the pillow.

"I think I need to take another bath..." he mumbles.

But you only smile, "I'm not done with you yet," you whisper. Daemon opens his eyes and looks at you in irritation.

You notice how he slowly softens in your hand, but it is not over for you yet. Slowly you slide further down and push his legs apart. You kneel between his legs and your hand gently moves along his shaft again. Daemon hisses slightly as you lean down.

You take his softening member into your mouth and begin to suck. The remnants of his cum unfold their salty taste on your tongue, but you love the way he tastes.

Daemon gasps, "What are you doing?"

But you just grin slightly and push him all the way down your throat.

"Gods...", Daemon gasps, but you notice that he is getting hard again.

But then, with a pop, you release his cock from his mouth. He is breathing heavily and still looks irritated, his cock hard again and standing in all its glory.

Daemon's heavy breath echoes from the walls of your chambers. You move and lie down beside him. You bite your lip gently and lean forward, kissing his neck softly. Your tongue is like pure fire that hits his skin and could cause new scars. A hot, arousing fire. His hips rise again with arousal and his hand reaches for the back of your head to move your head down. But you stop caressing his neck and look at him. You shake your head resolutely and Daemon pulls his hand back grumbling.

His voice fails in his throat and nothing more leaves his mouth as he slowly loses control. A growl sounds from him and his back arches slightly as your hand begins to caress his chest.

A moan escapes him as your nails leave light marks on his skin.

"Stop it, love," he murmurs. "You're driving me crazy" But you see his cock twitch wildly and you know he doesn't want you to stop. His hands reach into the sheet again and you know, that it's taking all his will not to grab you. Gently your lips graze over his neck as your fingers gently move down, teasing him. You feel the remnants of his previous climax and you see him bite his lip as you slide through it. His eyes are closed and you can see him enjoying this. Your fingers gently caress his abdomen, following the light hair to your destination.

A moan escapes him again. His hand suddenly reaches for your arm and you gasp softly, feeling his fingertips dig into your arm, showing you how much you're already teasing him. But you are not finished yet.

Daemon tries to concentrate on staying calm for your sake.

Once again, you can't stop your fingers from stroking his pubic hair as your smile widens. You watch his expression as you caress him.

A sharp intake of breath comes from his throat. He feels nothing but your touch. His fingertips dig further into your arm, but he finds it hard to stay still. You feel his muscles twitch and he just wants to pull you closer to him and take control of the situation so he can use your body as he wants.

But he forces himself to stay still. He forces himself to enjoy the passive role for once.

Your fingers gently graze the tip of his hard manhood. You bite your lip as you feel it twitch. As you close your fingers around the tip and the twitch shoots through your fingers.

"Ops...", you say softly, with an air of innocence, but Daemon knows you are not innocent and it's impossible for him not to react to that – a soft hiss escapes him.

His back arches slightly upwards and he grips your arm even tighter. His head turns towards you. His eyes are still closed, but you feel his lips seek yours. But you let him suffer. Let him feel what it is like to be on the receiving end of something like this.

"Is this what I put you through every night?" he suddenly asks softly, still keeping his eyes closed. You hear a slight breathlessness in his voice.

You smile again, "Yes... Every time you tease me..." you whisper.

You feel at your fingertips how his arousal continues to make itself felt, and the drops wet the tip of his cock.

"You like that, don't you?" you whisper.

He responds with a low growl, as if he's too busy enjoying it to reply with words.

His fingers disengage from your arm and sink to the bed, holding them still. It works up to a point. But you see his fingers clench into fists again and again.

You lean forward again and gently kiss his neck. Lightly you let your teeth sink into the skin. Again you hear a slight growl.

But still your fingers do not touch his hard member. Teasingly you only stroke his tip, refusing to embrace it completely. You feel it twitch violently again and again. Almost desperately it wants you to touch it. And again a moan escapes Daemon's throat.

You notice his breath quickening, and your own smile turns into a wicked little grin.

His fingers clutch the sheets on the bed as his muscles tremble slightly. You can feel the tension building inside him.

"Stop it... stop..," he murmurs, his voice strained by the desire to just grab you.

You continue to nibble on his neck. Your fingers, meanwhile, are stroking his pubic hair again, your caress growing rougher.

"Would you like me to touch you?" you whisper. With this question you have sealed his fate.

You see him contort his face almost painfully, trying to resist his urge. It would be so easy for him to give in, to just turn and take you as he wants. You see the inner struggle in him. The Rogue Prince who never begs, never bows to any command. The dragon who needs control over every situation. But still you see his breathing quicken, his muscles tremble slightly, he moistens his lips.

"Yes..." he whispers after a while, almost defeated.

But then his fingers move to your hips, wanting to grab you and force you closer to him. You slap his hand away.

"No, Daemon. Get your hands off me," you whisper warningly in his ear. You underline your momentary power and nibble lightly on his earlobe.

Your fingers now find their way to his balls, your fingernails gently scratching the now taut skin and he hisses again.

It's a struggle for him to take his hands off your hips. He doesn't want to. But he obeys.

You continue the torment, your fingernails almost driving him mad.

"You know you'll pay for this, you little pest," his voice sounds a little hoarse.

But with each word his voice grows softer and is now just a low murmur as his body continues to tremble with desire. You have the power over this moment, and you know it. You smile just slightly, knowing you will pay for this, and a feeling of anticipation spreads through you.

"Please," he murmurs suddenly. His breathing is quick and heavy. Right now he is nothing more than your plaything. The Rogue Prince on the verge of begging.

You bite his neck again, "Please, what, my love?" you whisper as your fingernails continue to tease his balls. He hisses again. His hips jerk a little, desperate for a touch.

His mouth opens and closes as he tries to find words to say what he wants. It's all gasps and moans and deep, animalistic noises now.

"Please... I need more...," he finally murmurs weakly. He can't say much more, he wants you too much. You know it. He knows it. You both know it.

A low grumble escapes his throat as he hisses again. He clenches his teeth as you grab his balls. He tries to take a deep breath to keep his voice low, but he can't stop his voice from shaking. "Touch me...", these are the only words he manages to say.

Your hand continues to grip his balls, squeezing them gently.

You kiss his neck, "My Rogue Prince...", you whisper.

He is silent now, looking at you with half-closed eyes, his breathing heavy.

You continue to kiss and nibble on his neck as your hand holds him tight, enjoying this newfound power over him. "If you keep this up, I swear we won't leave this bed for at least twelve hours. And I will make you suffer,“ he hisses, his last attempt at exuding dominance.

You smile at him, your fingers now slowly stroking along his shaft.

"I wouldn't mind," you whisper.

His hard manhood is dripping with precum. Your hand wanders along his hard manhood. It twitches violently as you rub the pecum over its tip. He gasps and grunts.

"Oh, you like that, don't you?" you whisper as you nibble on his neck again.

"Yes...!" Daemon suddenly groans. You're playing with fire and you know it. Your teasing only drives him closer to his climax without you actually touching him. But you embrace him fully now, and the sudden rough touch makes him grunt loudly. Your hand wanders up and down, your other hand starts massaging his balls again.

"Then come for me, love...", you whisper. You are also breathing harder by now as your hand slides along his hard manhood. He is moaning uncontrollably by now, his manhood twitching. His eyes are closed and his hips are twitching.

His fingers dig deep into the sheet as he makes sounds you didn't think he was capable of. But his moans turn into hisses as your hand works faster.

He pulls your head towards him and kisses you fiercely, almost desperately. He holds nothing back now and you let him.

"My wife. My Dornish princess. My queen. I am yours. Only yours.", Daemon gasps and you feel the twitch move from his balls up into his cock.

And then he comes. Again his seed spurts onto his belly, while your hand does not slacken in its movement. You're still kissing him and he moans and whimpers into your mouth.

Daemon releases the kiss, still breathing heavily, his eyes closed. Softly he whispers your name, smiling.

"You're cruel, you know that? Cruel and beautiful," he whispers.

You giggle softly and watch the movements of his face. After a few deep breaths from him, he suddenly moves. So suddenly that you gasp slightly. Your eyes grow wide as he suddenly hovers over you. You stare into his violet eyes, his cum dripping onto your soft, olive skin, creating a complete contrast. Daemon slides his finger through it as it continues to drip, just as you did on his skin before. A dark grin on his lips.

"I'm going to make you pay even more cruelly for this..." he murmurs and before you can say anything, his lips meet yours and his hand finds its way between your thighs. Your whimpers echo through your chambers as his hand grips your cunt roughly.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list

@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemonds-eyeball @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @valeskafics @dreamlandcreations @hopelesswritergall @wetbitchlibrary @sylasthegrim

#lovely hannah #lovely moots 💕#thanks for reading #daemon targaryen

817 notes · View notes

happilyhertale · 21 days

Text

hehehe 😏 we all feel certain things when we read this!

tysm!! 💕