ARIA. 21. she/her. part-time writer, full-time game of thrones fanatic. doctorate in leon kennedy. number 1 submissive aerion advocate!
[ please note ; i am a full-time university student with a part-time job, so i can only be somewhat active. requests are closed, but asks are always welcome! ]
leon masterlist | isaac night masterlist | aerion targaryen masterlist | valarr targaryen masterlist
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thinking about professor ryland grace and chaotic student reader.
reader who is hanging on by a thread. youâre a complete mess, working overtime at your shitty underpaid job, where sorority girls and frat boys come just to make fun of you. youâre not socially accepted, because youâre too loud and honest to fit into any group. but you tell yourself itâs fine. it doesnât matter. because your favourite professor, the only one who makes you feel like you have a chance in life, is there to relieve your stress everyday.
grace doesnât care that everyone thinks your weird. he thinks your beautiful, and that you just havenât figured life out yet. heâs there to help you with that, though. heâll ask what youâre planning on doing after graduation while youâre bent over his desk and are being pushed further and further into it as he thrusts into you. heâll ask some questions that are relevant to your next paper while heâs two fingers deep inside you, with another couple circling your clit. heâll even ask how your job is going while your legs are wrapped around his waist and you can feel his cock so far inside you, you swear youâve finally found some peace in your life.
and grace will always come to the coffee shop you work at. every morning, without fail, heâll show up and order a simple coffee just to see you. he can make them at college, or at home. but he chooses to come and see you. and he will always tip more than he can afford, because he knows what itâs like to be a student scraping by. itâs part of the reason he agreed to this arrangement with you. he knows how stressful it is, and he wished he couldâve had someone who let him relax every now and then. heâs glad he can be that for you.
and grace never looks at you like youâre anything less than perfect. when everyone else watches you like youâre a jittery, stupid mess, he sees that youâre trying your best as a playful young person in a world that isnât ready for you. so when he sees all the snickers and dirty looks you get during presentations, he makes sure to praise you even more when heâs fucking you after class. because you deserve to be treated well. you deserve to have your brain shut off for a while when itâs so full all of the time. you deserve to be filled up another way.
requests are open!! give me reasons to write for ryland more⌠please.
"fuuuck baby, thaat's it... that's my pretty girl."
leon's sure this his therapy session after all the shit he saw in his latest mission, returning to the one city that haunted his mind and dreams ever since he was a rookie. but he made it this timeâsaved grace, found a cure for himself and sherry, earning himself a nice vacation.
now, he was fixing his fucked up mentality and relieving stress by using your sweet little pussy, watching how perfectly you bended for him on your shared bed, ringed hand clawing the sheets. he watched where you two joined, his cum from previous rounds leaking out of you as he kept thrusting and thrusting, the sounds of small burps and squelches making him feel like he's right where he belongsâin his sweet wife's cunt.
"swallowin' me so good, shit, could kill for this sight. killed for this sight, you have no idea." he felt better and energetic, more than he did in agesâthanks to the cureâand now all he wanted to do with this was, of course, fuck his wife properly.
"leonn.. fuckâgaah.. hmgh.. hnn.." you drooled and slurred his name, unable to say anything else as he pounded inside you from behind, his big and rough palms kneading, spanking and spreading your ass almost desperately. leon was desperate right now, the need to feel you and make sure he really did make it was almost tasteable with the way he fucked.
"so good sweetheart, so good, always so good," he rambled through his breathy voice, hugging your waist tight enough to pull you back into his chest. he headlocked you to keep his balanceâhis other hand on your stomach, feeling the way it bulged with his cock. he groaned, nuzzling your hair and scent, basically drowning himself in you.
he was so happy for once. and all he wanted to do was to share it with you. just you.
"love you so much," he grunted, breathing heavily into your temple, small and barely audible whimpers coming out from his deep voice. you're so messy and dizzy to hear it properly, but when you do, you clench. hard. enough to pull another one from him. "so much babyâhaahnh... my beautiful wifeâ"
you bit his forearm to keep yourself from screaming, eyes crossed softly. your moans grew needier against his skin, and from the way you clenched, he knew you were right there.
"gonna cum? yeaah you gonna cum, gonna cum right on my cock." he panted, squeezing your tummy as his cold ring created a contrast on your sweaty and heated skin. you whined, and held his bicep tight enough to leave marks. though all he cared was how good that ring looked on your finger as you did.
"come on baby, i earned it didn' i?" he breathed into your ear, his plea making your eyes roll back. he reached down from your tummy, rough thumb messily circling your clit. "earned your pussy, earned to feel you cum. gonna fill you up again, yeah? i came back to you, all curedâfuck," he whimpered again, so low and deep you almost mistake it as a groan. "â'n healed. gimme my fuckin' reward."
you came from his words and delicious thrusts, trembling in his arms. his own orgasm crashed right after yours, and the force of it made him slump with you on the bed, flat on your back with stuttering hips. "shit," he breathed, kissing all over your spine, giving gentle licks and nips.
"i.. i love you too.." you mumbled, completely spent and just now regaining your ability to speak. he let out a tired and rough chuckle, turning until he was spooning you properly.
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WAITRESS!! The food was piping hot and the chef clearly went to culinary school for at least ten years for my food to be that good!! I have never eaten so good before and because I am fat and greedy I shall be waiting outside on the line for more!!!
đđ stop youâre so funny
THANK YOU!!!! more will definitely be along soon!!
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summary: Valarr has neglected his soon-to-be wife, no passion in their political union. But one glance at you in your simple nightgown manages to completely unravel him.
warnings: smut; inexperienced!reader; inexperienced!Valarr; Valarr is an eater (it's the enthusiasm that counts); cumming untouched
words: 3.4k
notes: No physical description of the reader (only that she has hair). If you don't feel comfortable with these warnings/topics, please do not read. I am not responsible for the media YOU choose to consume. I literally wrote this before bed, so if you see something suspicious?? No, you didn't.
When Valarr was first betrothed to his soon-to-be bride, it was a union forged from duty rather than desire. He sought to honour his fatherâs wishes, securing the alliance that Prince Baelor had so deftly arranged. To Valarr, you were an obligation, a means to an end. Yet, despite the coldness of his motives, he treated you with the manners befitting a true gentleman, for his father had raised him in the values of courtesy and respect.
With a subtle smile gracing his lips, Valarr would speak to you in tender tones, his words laced with a polite charm that could not entirely mask the absence of warmth. He opened doors for you, his strong hand at your back or entwined with yours as he guided you through the bustling halls to grand feasts. Such gestures were the height of chivalry, yet all you craved was the fire of passion and the bloom of love, emotions that danced just out of reach.
Over time, you found solace in accepting this harsh reality, making peace with the truth that your marriage was merely a political arrangement, binding your noble house to his in a web of duty and allegiance. It was a bitter truth to swallow, yet you resolved to fulfil your part in this grand tapestry of power and lineage, even as your heart ached for something more.
This wasnât the worst fate you could have endured, you knew that well. You were surrounded by a multitude of maids to attend your every whim, feasting on the finest delicacies the realm had to offer, and your future son would rise as the heir to the iron throne. Yet, the last point bore a certain weight, for the honour of ruling was often shrouded in peril and intrigue.
It's not that Valarr found you unsightly or undesirable, far from it. In his eyes, you were a vision of beauty, with hair that shone and skin as smooth as the finest silk. You possessed the enchantment of a siren, beckoning sailors to their doom upon treacherous shores.
However, he kept busy in the web of politics, far too entangled in the affairs of state to fall for your siren song just yet. His gaze was set on aiding his father to rule the realm wisely.
But all it took was one evening for Valarr to finally see the woman in you, not just a beautiful maiden he was to wed, awakening a desire he had kept locked away for too long.
In your private chambers, the dying fire flickered, casting warm shadows across your freshly bathed skin, still faintly fragrant with honey and datesâa scent that wafted through the air like an aphrodisiac. He had stopped by as he did each night, but this time it felt different.
You turned to him, a sweet smile curving your lips, your hair left loose, untamed, and perfumed, an allure he had never before witnessed. Gone were the elaborate gowns and intricate braids. A soft blush on the apples of your cheeks, feeling almost naked in the rather flimsy nightdress.
This was something else. This was raw.
As he lingered in the doorway, his gaze roamed over your figure, dressed in a nightgown, the fabric sheer enough to unveil the gentle curves of your body in the dim light.
Valarr had never seen you in such a state of unready before. As if the Gods had conspired to unveil your softness.
It was like tossing a scrap to a famished wolfâhis breath quickened, sweat beading on his brow, the air thick with a growing warmth that made the chamber feel as though it had reached a fevered pitch. The sight of you stirred something deep within him, illuminating the desire he had kept locked away until now.
For a moment, it seemed as though Valarr's throat had gone dry, his gaze fixed upon you. The sheer nightgown's fabric betraying just enough to fuel his imagination, the soft candlelight playing a teasing game with your curves.
He took a step closer, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. His eyes roamed over you, tracing the contour of your hips, the gentle swell of your breasts. His voice, normally controlled, now held a rasp that betrayed his desire.
"My lady," he murmured, his voice low. His eyes drank you in, lingering over the slope of your shoulders, the gentle arch of your neck. The sweet scent clung to your skin, adding an intoxicating edge to the moment.
He took another step forward, the distance now mere inches. His hand moved of its own accord, his fingers gently tracing the line of your collarbone, the touch soft yet possessive. "You lookâŚ" He swallowed, his eyes finally meeting yours. "Breathtaking."
You blushed, feeling goosebumps rise on your arms as he grazed your skin. Feeling such a gentle touch for the first time from him, swallowing with slight nerves. "My prince, do not be silly. I am simply in my nightgown," you joked with a light tone, your voice breathy.
You felt a warm flush spread across your cheeks, and a shiver coursed through you as his fingertips danced lightly upon your skin. It was a gentle caress, unlike any you had ever known from him, igniting nervous anticipation in your belly that made you swallow hard. âMy prince, do not be foolish,â you bantered softly, a teasing lilt gracing your breath.Â
âI am clad in my nightgown.â Your words hung in the air, sweet as honey, while your heart raced at the intimate closeness between you.
He hesitated, fingers barely touching your collarbone, worried he might cross an unwelcome line. His mind raced with thoughts that made him ache, nearly choking on his words.
âIâm not joking. You look... ravishing." The word fell from his lips like a confession, barely above a whisper. "Like a goddess made flesh,â he breathed, his voice thick with desire. Valarrâs gaze devoured you, trailing down your body to the low neckline that had him yearning and weak in the knees.
Valarr swallowed hard, realising he had never allowed himself to acknowledge the depth of his attraction to you until now. He felt blood rush to his cock so fast it almost made him dizzy, breeches tightening against his bulge.
His hand drifted lower, fingertips brushing the swell of your breast through the thin fabric. He felt your nipple stiffen at his touch, betraying your arousal. The air between you crackled with tension, heavy with unspoken desires.
You gasped as Valarr's fingers brushed your soft breasts, your nipples stiffening instantly at his touch. "Valarr," you breathed out, instinctively arching your back to press your breasts more fully into his palm. Your eyes fluttered closed, body burning with a sudden, intense ache that made your core throb.
"Touch me," you murmured, voice husky and low, a plea laced with newfound hunger. Your own hands moved to cover his, holding his touch against you as you felt your heart pounding. The cool air and your racing pulse made your skin prickle with goosebumps.
Now that you'd had a taste, you could never go back.
Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, the action slow and deliberate, an unspoken invitation. The air between you felt electric, heavy with the promise of passion about to be unleashed.
Unable to resist any longer, Valarr cupped the soft mounds fully, thumbs grazing over the hardened peaks. He leaned down, breath hot against your ear as he murmured, "As my princess commands..."
Valarr leaned down and captured your lips in a searing kiss. His mouth moved over yours hungrily, tongue delving past your lips to taste you deeply. One hand remained at your breast, kneading the soft flesh, while the other slid down to grip your hip, pulling your body flush against his.
He could feel his own heart pounding in his chest, his cock throbbing almost painfully against his breeches.
You kissed him back clumsily, but with growing fervour. Your tongues tangled awkwardly as you let out a muffled moan into his mouth. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, fingers digging in as you tried to steady yourself and simultaneously pull him closer.
Gods, but he kisses like a starving man, you thought dizzily, your own hunger rising to match his. You could feel the evidence of his desire, hard and insistent, against your stomach. It thrilled and intimidated you in equal measure.
Valarr's hands slid down to grip your rear, squeezing the firm globes as he pulled you harder against him. He could feel your body melting into his, your soft curves moulding perfectly to the hard planes of his body. His hips rocked forward, grinding his cloth-covered erection against your core, seeking friction even through the layers of fabric separating you.
Breaking the kiss, Valarr's mouth trailed down to your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point. He nipped and sucked at the tender skin, determined to mark you as his own. His hands slid under the hem of your nightgown, calloused fingers skimming up your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
Valarr was inexperienced, having lived a sheltered life and never visiting the brothels as his cousins often did. But he was a manâa Targaryen. He instinctively knew where to trace his fingers.
"I want to taste you." He whispered, voice shaky with how many thoughts and feelings were swirling inside him.
Driven by a yearning that stirred deep within, he needed to taste you, to have your honey on his tongue.
You let out a shaky sigh at his bold confession, the breath catching in your throat for a fleeting moment. "Taste me?" you inquired, uncertainty lacing your voice.Â
Your knowledge of intimacy came from books or your handmaiden, who kept the description of the act rather vague. Teaching you that the main purpose of a man and woman being together was to reproduce.
Valarr's hands slid further up your thighs, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin at the apex. "Here," he murmured, voice low and thick with desire. "I want to put my mouth on you, taste your essence, feel you come undone against my tongue..."
"Forgive me, I forget myself. This is new for me too." His thumb caressed your inner thigh soothingly.
I want to put my mouth on your sweet cunt until you're writhing and begging for more. That is what he truly wanted to say, but he kept his baser instincts at bay.
Your eyes widened, and you let out a breathy gasp, "Oh! I see..." You bit your lip, a blush spreading across your cheeks. "Well, I suppose that could be... pleasant." You trusted him; that's what made you agree almost embarrassingly quickly.
Valarr's heart raced at your breathy consent. Slowly, almost reverently, he eased you down onto the bed, settling between your parted thighs. He gazed up at you, eyes darkened with lust and a hint of tenderness.
"Pleasant doesn't begin to cover it," he murmured, hands sliding further up, thumbs brushing maddeningly close to your core.
With that, he leaned in, breath ghosting over your clothed sex. Then, he pressed a soft kiss to your mound, breathing in your scent before pulling the fabric aside.
Gods, she smells divine, he thought, mouth watering.
Your stomach fluttered nervously asyou felt Valarr's breath ghosting over your most intimate place, thighs clenching instinctively. A breathy, almost mortified whimper escaped your lips as he pushed your nightgown up and exposed your womanhood to his hungry gaze. "Ah," you gasped, cheeks flushing crimson. Yet, you made no move to stop him, pulse quickening in anticipation.
Valarr paused, looking up at you with a mix of hunger and tenderness in his mismatched eyes. "Shh, don't be nervous," he murmured. "I would never hurt you, my princess."
He leaned in, inhaling your scent deeply before placing a soft, open-mouthed kiss on your bare mound. His tongue flicked out, parting your lower lips, tasting your essence. He groaned at the flavour of you, eyes fluttering closed.
"Sweet gods, you taste even better than I imagined," he rumbled against your skin, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wider as he settled between them.
His tongue delved deeper, exploring your folds with a growing hunger. He lapped at your essence, savouring the taste of your arousal. His hands slid up to grip your rear, kneading the flesh as he pulled you tighter against his mouth.
"Valarr~" you mewled, back arching off the bed as jolts of pleasure shot through you. Your fingers clawed at the sheets, bunching the fine linen in your fists as you gripped them for dear life.
What is this feeling? You thought dizzily, overwhelmed by sensations you had never known before. Soft, breathy mewls and whimpers spilt from your lips uncontrollably.
"So... so good..."Â you trailed off, unable to even articulate the depth of your pleasure, your body writhing with a hunger you had never known before.
Valarr groaned against your sex, the sound vibrating through you. Behaving more like an animal rather than a prince.
He sealed his lips around your clit, suckling the sensitive bud. His tongue flicked over it in quick, teasing strokes, drawing more of your essence.
Your breathing grew ragged, mingling with the obscene sounds of his suckling, filling the room with a symphony of lewd noises.
Valarr's thumbs spread your glistening folds apart, revealing your slick, little hole to his hungry gaze. "Exquisite," he breathed, the sight of your dripping sex making his painfully hard cock throb against his breeches.Â
Unable to resist any longer, he leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue along your slit, savouring your ambrosial taste, before delving inside your tight channel with a low moan.
He thrust his tongue in and out, fucking your hole with his mouth as his hands gripped your hips, pulling you harder against him. His nose brushes your sensitive clit with each thrust, the stimulation driving you wild.
Valarr's movements might have been clumsy, but he was too focused on making you feel good. Listening what exactly you seemed to like, ears trained on the pretty sounds you made for him.
He could feel your walls fluttering around his invading muscle, your body instinctively trying to draw him deeper. Nothing else mattered in that moment but bringing his princess to the pinnacle of ecstasy.
One hand slid up to splay across your belly, feeling it quiver beneath his touch as he pleasured you with lips and tongue. The other hand gripped your hip, holding you in place.
"Oh fu- gods!" You cried out, voice ragged with pleasure. Your body undulated beneath him, thighs quivering and clenching around his head. You could feel every drag of his tongue, every suckle and nip, stoking the fire building in my core.
Moans spilt freely from your lips, growing louder. In that moment, you cared not who might hear. Your fingers tangled in his brown hair, nails digging into his scalp as you held him to you, pushing his face into your cunny.
Valarr's eyes rolled back in bliss as he feasted on your dripping sex. The lower half of his face was entirely coated in your juices, but he didn't seem to mind at all.
"Ah, gods, IÂ can't... IÂ can't..."Â you gasped, voice breaking as your body began to tremble uncontrollably.Â
He pushed his hand more firmly on your stomach, holding you in place so he could continue lapping at your cunt, making sure you couldn't run away from the pleasure.
A broken cry tore from your throat, eyes fluttering shut as a coiling heat gathered in your core. Valarr's grip on your hips held you in place, preventing any escape from the intense sensations consuming you.
His cock had been hard and leaking the entire time, pulsing against the mattress as fresh beads of precum kept staining his breeches.
Valarr's hips began to hump the bed instinctively, his painfully hard cock rubbing against the mattress as he lost himself in pleasuring you. The friction of the fabric against his aching arousal only heightened his lust, making him hump against the bed like a dog in rut.
Uncontrollable, near animalistic moans spilt from your lips, your body writhing beneath him. "Valarr!" you choked out, your voice ragged and raw with pleasure.
The coil of tension in your belly wound tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. You could feel the impending release building, your walls clenching and fluttering around his invading tongue.
You had never known such intense sensation. It felt as if you were possessed, leaving you a writhing, mewling mess.
Valarr's own body was wound tight, his cock throbbing almost painfully as he rutted against the bed. He needed to make you come, to feel your pleasure crest before he sought his own release. Only then would he allow himself the satisfaction of spilling in his breeches like a green boy.
He could only whine into your cunt, the sound muffled by your dripping flesh. He sees your body tensing. He knew you were close. He needed to taste your release, to feel you come undone against his mouth.
He sucked your clit hard, his lips sealing around it as his tongue flicked over the tip rapidly, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
He could feel his own release building as well, his balls drawing up tight as he rutted desperately against the mattress, chasing his own end. But he focused only on you, determined to please you before seeking his own.
"Valarr!" You cried out, voice ragged and raw with ecstasy. Your body convulsed beneath his touch, back arching off the bed as you shattered into a million pieces.
"Mmhhh~"Â you mewled shamelessly, fingers fisting in his hair, holding him tight against your sex as you rode out each intense wave of your climax.
Valarr's own body seized, his cock pulsing hard as he found his release in his breeches. With a muffled cry against your sex, he found his own release, his body stiffening as hot seed spurted from his cock, staining his breeches. His hips jerked and shuddered as he came, the sensation of your quivering walls under his tongue pushing him over the edge.
He shuddered and twitched below you, gasping for breath as the intense pleasure of his climax rolled through him. Hecouldn't remember the last time he had come so hard, so intensely. The taste of your sex, the sound of your cries, the feel of your body writhing above himâit was all too much.
He held you close as you trembled and shook, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he helped you ride out each intense wave of your climax.
Finally, as your body went limp beneath him, he slowly pulled back, looking up at you with hooded eyes.
"Fuck," you panted, chest heaving as you stared up at the canopy above. "That felt... really good." You sat up on your elbows, meeting his gaze. "I didn't know men did that to their women." You admitted shyly, still catching your breath. "Can you do it again sometimes?"
Valarr smiled, a boyish grin spreading across his face as he gazed up at you. "Anytime you wish, my princess," he murmured, voice still rough from his own intense climax. "In fact..." He leaned in, placing a soft, lingering kiss on your sensitive mound, making your muscles twitch. "I look forward to it."
Valarr smiled, a boyish grin spreading across his face as he gazed up at you. "Anytime you wish, my princess," he murmured, voice still rough from his own intense climax. "In fact..." He leaned in, placing a soft, lingering kiss on your sensitive mound, making your muscles twitch. "I look forward to it."
He leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, sensual kiss. You could taste yourself on him, the musky flavour of your release. His hands slid up your sides, cupping your breasts and kneading the soft flesh.
"I must be patient until we are married," he murmured against your lips. "I need to be proper. But once you are mine, I will have you every day if you only let me. I want to fill you with my seed until it takes, until your belly swells with my child."
Rolling onto his back, he gathered you to his side, one arm wrapped possessively around your waist.Â
You sighed in bliss as he held you, relaxing into his touch. Finally feeling loved and appreciated in this union, caressing his chest softly while your lids grew heavy with sleep.
His other hand slid up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing your kiss-swollen lower lip. "You're exquisite, my princess," he whispered, studying your face as if committing it to memory. "I am not nearly done with you."
some general headcanons for subby!aerion and his wifeâŚ
beware. headcanons with scenarios | pnv sex / minors dni | riding subby!aerion | cunnilingus | mentions of coming untouched | unprotected sex | creampies | aerion is a warning | mentions of blood | not proofread
your husband is a shallow man. he is vain, cruel in every sense of the word - mindless in his want for destruction and power.
at least, he was.
recently, youâd uncovered a different side to aerion. it was quite the shift. you were accustomed to his usual cocky, dominant, violent approach in bed â where, more often than not, heâd push you beyond your limits and leave you sore for days after. his needs fulfilled, and yours thoroughly forgotten.
yes, bedding your husband was pleasurable enough. sure, heâd bend your legs so far youâd fear theyâd snap, and heâd bite so deep into your flesh that your blood would leave deep stains that wouldnât come out in a wash. and yes, sometimes, heâd even trace his daggerâs edge along your stomach whilst he rutted into you, the one with the hilt embedded with a dragon.
but you were left satisfied, more or less. his cock would hit that spot inside of you without effort, and when he was feeling generous, heâd reach down to play with your clit and drag you to climax. and rarely, when he was in the mood, his tongue would bring you to the brink until you passed out.
but you werenât really satisfied. something was missing.
after youâd ridden him for the first time, in which took much convincing, youâd uncovered a whole new side to him. to you.
that night, after youâd seen him like that for the first time â whining, at your mercy, pathetic â you knew what youâd been wanting deep down all this time.
and ever since then, youâve been wanting that sight more and more.
âFuck.. slowâ slow down.â
His voice was strained, words coming shaky and harsh, like they were punched out of him with more effort than expected.
But you didnât heed his demand. He was in no place to demand anything of you, not like this.
He was lay back against the pillowsâsilks of deep reds and blacks, the colours of his House. Fire and blood. Something to be feared, respected, obeyed.
It was a sweetly ironic sight.
His hands were everywhere, one clutching the thigh that bracketed his narrow hip, the other wandering your body - your tits, your stomach, your waist, your ass. It was as if he didnât know what to do with himself.
Likely because he didnât. How could he?
Your hips move without the grace or elegance expected of a princess, the wife of prince Aerion Brightflame. Instead, they are quick, filthy, determined to make your husband come undone with your pace.
It seems itâs working.
You tighten around him when his pelvis grinds against your clit when his hips buck to meet yours, and he chokes on the moan he emits. The sound is loud, and he pulls a swollen bottom lip between his teeth to muffle further sounds. Embarrassed.
Anger flashes behind his lust-filled eyes, and he finds himself trapped in the same inner war he is constantly confining himself into. Torn between his shameful, buried desire to submit to you, and the resentment towards his position.
He knows that later, when you are asleep beside him, utterly spent and exhausted, he will lie awake - hating himself, feeling shame burn unpleasantly in his stomach. For his vulnerability, letting someone see such a deep part of him he thought heâd never let see the light of day. Heâll reassure himself silently, that you are riding a dragon, he should feel accomplished. He hates it. Hates feeling lesser to anyone. He is the blood of the dragon.
But his body will always betray him.
He canât help the whimper that wrenches out of him when you nip at his neck, your cunt fluttering around him, despite him biting his lip so hard that blood rises in his teethâs wake. He canât resist when your lips smash against his, his blood staining you. And when your tongue dances languidly with his, and his cock twitches inside of you, and heâs on the verge of cumming inside of you for the umpteenth time that night â it doesnât matter anymore. His name, his blood.
When his seed fills your womb, and your cunt soaks him with your own release, and he canât help but moan and writhe with the overstimulating pleasure when you keep moving, eyes rolling back into his skull, thereâs nowhere else heâd rather be.
of course, this newfound taste for offering up his control of things has translated into other scenarios too.
wherein before, heâd have you pinned to the bed by your hips, his strong fingers holding you in place as his tongue ravaged your pussy, leaving you writhing and begging and thrashing. and cumming. lots and lots of cumming.
and whenever he sinks between your thighs now, which youâve realised is somewhat more often (he thinks heâs being subtle), heâll smirk smugly up at you - assuming itâll go like it always does. you submitting to your dragonâs tongue, letting him decide when you finish and when you donât, letting him speak filth to you.
but for some odd reason, one he just canât figure out, it always goes differently once his tongue finally meets your cuntâŚ
Youâre on the verge of death, youâre sure.
Youâve already met your climax a good four times now, and youâve got the proof to show for it. Your bare skin is covered in a coat of sweat, your chest rising and falling harshly with each intake of breath. Your stomach is tensing with the shocks of pleasure buzzing at your nerves, and your husband is still between your thighs.
âAerion,â you push out, breathless and desperate. âHusband, thatâs.. thatâs enough now.â
Usually, heâd snap at you, tell you that he decides when youâre done. Or, more likely, heâd part from your cunt and climb up your body, ready to shove his cock inside and take you rough, like he always does.
But now? He just shakes his head, and tries to sink his tongue impossibly further into your hole - the guttural moan he lets out vibrating against you.
Your breath hitches, and the fingers that are buried in his pale hair tug slightly - and you slightly hope it might aggravate him a little, make him cease his ministrations as âpunishmentâ. But he just grows deep in his chest, hips twitching against the bed, and his eyes roll back behind his eyelids.
Despite yourself, you let out a moan of your own. You love him like this. Desperate, needy, unlike himself.
And when his tongue drags up to flick at your clit, you decide a fifth peak wouldnât hurt.
âOne more,â He mutters, words slurred against your sex. His voice is still deep, still his, but itâs lilted with a whine at the end. It almost disarms you. Almost. Instead, you smile, and your fingers tug again at his hair. He grunts, and repeats, more high-pitched than before, âGive me one more.â
You nod, even though his eyes are closed blissfully, and silently part your trembling thighs more for him. A hint of a cramp curls in one - his broad shoulders keeping them parted uncomfortably.
Itâs worth it when he sighs against you, furrowed brows relaxing, and tongue lapping at you with all the grace of a man starved.
And, despite your exhaustion, and frankly, your belief that you have no more orgasms left to offer - when he groans deep against you at the taste of your cum, and rags you harder against his face, you decide one more wouldnât hurt.
You briefly wonder, amidst the throes of mind-numbing pleasure, when youâll tell him to lie back, and seat yourself on his face.
Soon.
and finally, aerion has lost himself completely.
once he let you mount him for the first time, it was inevitable.
now he cannot crawl between your legs without turning into a green boy that paints his breeches white. pathetic. humiliating.
but now? you have completely stole him of everything he once prided himself of.
he cannot even fuck you like he once did.
he would hold your calves against his elbows, pushing them back, and his hips would snap against yours so aggressively that there are still dents in the wall from the headboard.
and heâd whisper pure filth in your ear, promising you his seed, vowing to paint you until youâre dripping with it for weeks, and even after that, heâll keep going. all night, if he must. however long it takes.
now, things are different. heâs different. maybe he isnât, not really. mayhaps heâs always been this way. mayhaps you have merely conditioned him to be like this. he supposes heâll never have the answer to such intriguing queries - but he does detest the change so.
âOh⌠thatâs- fuck..â
Indeed.
Your husband is above you, elbows pressed against the mattress, either side of your head, and his biceps tense and strain with the labours.
His hips slap against yours, sloppy and nonsensical - different. His cock has been twitching since the moment he sank inside, and your thighs had wrapped around his narrow waist so perfectly.
âYeah?â You whisper, the hand thatâs holding the back of his neck pulling him down towards you. Your lips brush his cheekbone, and your eyes flutter when his hips dart forward faster. âDo you like that? Hm?â
Heâs the one fucking you, he thinks, it should be him asking you that.
But itâs difficult to remember that when you clench around him so deliciously.
And instead of snapping at you, snarling and ripping at you, he just groans - deep and guttural - and nods. He fucking nods. Fury flares in his gut. Sorceress, you are. Come to steal his soul, a dragons magic, and leave him human and obeying.
He wants to hate you for it, to thrust harder, rougher, make you bleed and apologise, like he used to. But all he can do is sink his head into the crook of your neck when your fingers rake through his hair, nails tickling his scalp, and let you.
And where he used to bite, he now kisses, and where he used to dig his nails in, he now just grips to ground himself.
âFuckâ I canât, I need..â His voice is sharp, words cracking and quick. He lifts his head from the safety of your neck, lidded eyes flitting down to where the two of you connect again and again and again and the sight is so lewd heâs already going to come-
âAerion,â You moan, thighs twitching around him, pussy clenching. âDoing so good..â
He chokes out a garbled sound, brows pinching as he stares down at you, violet irises staring into yours. His hips stutter in their pace.
âIâm going to come.â He announces, rather loudly (you foolishly hope the guards outside didnât hear that), and his tip hits that spongy spot inside your cunt so perfectly when his cock twitches.
You nod, your legs coming together harder around him, making it harder for him to actually keep up with his thrusts.
âCome inside of me.â You demand. You nod encouragingly again, willing him to continue. He stares down at you, fingers flexing beside you, pace growing more desperate.
His breath catches when you reach down to rub at your clit, and when you tighten around him impossibly more, he doubles over, face meeting the pillow, his nose against your cheek. His pathetic moans are hit against your skin.
âIâm.. ohâ youâre going to make me-â
âCome.â You interrupt, nails digging into the back of his neck. âGive it to me, Aerion. Make a mess.â
Your face turns towards his, and his eyes barely open to meet yours. Your other hand reaches to hold his cheek - lovingly, softly, like you can.
âMy dragon.â
And then he stuffs you full, coming undone with a cry that you muffle with your lips.
And itâs so filthy - his seed drips out of you, staining both your and his skin, the bed. Both of your bodies are slick with sweat, and your breaths are panted into the others, until you canât decipher whoâs is whoâs.
And heâs looking at you, his pale lashes tickling your cheekbone with how tired he is. And for once, he doesnât have it in him to rebuild his walls, reconstruct that facade of dominance.
A moment to seize is not to go to waste, youâve gratefully learnt.
âAgain,â You mutter. Your hips shift slightly to encourage him.
And, with a nudge of his nose against your skin, and the fluttering of his eyes, he shakily picks himself up again - already hardening inside of you again at just a mere demand.
He doesnât know when this shift underwent. He hates it. Hates you for making him like this. Manipulating him, torturing him.
Yet, he finds himself seeking it out more and more, this, you. Donât ask him to admit it though, because he likely will. (And regret it later).
embarrassed! [As the newly wed to the heir to the throne, itâs imperative you provide the realm with an heir. You expect to feel many things out of your wedding night - pain, endurance. Instead, you are left confused, with your maidenhood still intact.]
take them, leave you! [Youâd desired a marriage for love, and after managing to avoid political unions thrice, a betrothal was formed that you could not skilfully escape. You fear the cruelty of a dragon, yet find the softness of a man.]
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hiii!! i hope ur doing well. i just wanted to ask something really quickly, and please donât feel any pressure at all. if you ever write character x character fics or take suggestions, would you maybe consider writing a fanfic about Valarr and Aerion? i think your writing style is really lovely, so i thought it might be interesting to see your take on them.
of course if thatâs not something youâre interested in thatâs completely okay! i just wanted to ask. and by the way, i really enjoy your writing,, it's genuinely very good!!
helloooo!
firstly, thank you so much! it means a lot to me that you like my writing :)
so i donât really write character x character, just because im a lot more accustomed to character x reader, but id be open to valarr x reader x aerion. but i should tell you that i dont know when thatâd be published because my reqs are closed rn, mainly due to the fact i have barely any free time to write, so i dont wanna keep people waiting for asksđ