~El ~

Daemon

You'd wake up covered in sweat, mumbling under your breath. Daemon would wake up right after you. "What happened?" he'd ask calmly. "I had a dream about something so terrible that I..." you'd start, and he'd interrupt you with, "Don't worry, I'm with you, you're safe." Then you'd fall asleep in his arms.

Gwayne

When you woke up, he would be awake, looking at you with concern. "It's just a dream, my dearest," he would begin calmly, and when you tried to explain something to him, he would pull you closer to his chest and start playing with your hair so you could try to fall asleep peacefully.

Rheanyra

You'd wake her up screaming her name. She'd immediately wake up next to you, asking if everything was okay. You'd explain to her that you'd had a terrible dream, and she'd say, "My sweet girl, it's just a bad dream. You're with me, and everything is fine," and you'd rest your head on her stomach and fall asleep.

Alicent

You'd wake up terrified and immediately wake Alicent. "Alicent...Alicent, I'm so scared..." you'd start, and he'd interrupt you with, "Easy now. What happened?" You'd cuddle up to her and tell her what a terrible dream you had. She'd lie down next to you and whisper sweet words of comfort.

Duncan

Your knight wouldn't sleep when you woke up terrified. You'd be stuffy and unsure what had happened, whether what you'd just seen was a dream or real. Duncan would cup your cheeks and kiss your forehead. "It's just a bad dream...nothing bad happened," he would whisper to you, and you would close your eyes and hug him tightly.

Baelor

When you had a nightmare, you'd wake up and be breathless. You'd be so different that Baelor, if he woke up and saw you, would think you were dying. "My love, what's happening? Should I call the servants?" he'd say tenderly. "No, it's not necessary...it's just that dream...it was so terrible," you'd say with a broken voice. "I'm with you, okay? You're in no danger," he'd say with tenderness in his voice.

Aerion

When you woke up crying, your boyfriend would take you in his arms and ask what you needed. You would tell him nothing, that it was just a bad dream. "Bad dreams haunt me sometimes, too, but when I'm with you, I don't have any bad dreams. Maybe if you fall asleep in my arms, you won't have nightmares?"

Valarr

How the AKOTSK men would react to you being in danger

characters: For Baelor, Makear, Valarr, Dunk, Humphrey Beesbury x fem!reader

content: injury, angst?, fluff, not proofread.

word count: 5,854

summary: (includes smut) when theodore begins to help you study for your calculus class, he never imagined he'd start to help you in many other, less scholarly, fashions.

author's note: yall i have been in the worstttt writing slump. i spent a month writing this fuckass shit and i literally hate it. im so sorry!!! this is my first time writing solely from theo’s perspective and it was quite challenging tbh but i hope it’s acceptable 😭🙏

🌷 masterlist

Theodore has always been studious. While most complain about having to go to classes every weekday and study for tests at night, Theodore took it in stride. After graduating from Hogwarts, he wanted nothing more than to continue studying in the form of higher education. And while he loves the wizarding world, yes, he also adores the muggle world. That’s how he found himself attending something called “university” in London.

Imagine his surprise when, after spending seven years at Hogwarts with separate dormitories for each sex, that his roommate happens to be a girl. He was already quite surprised by the idea of sharing a room with only one other person, but he only became more startled when he watched you, a girl, barge through the door with all of your stuff.

“Sorry!” You squeak as a box falls from the precarious stack in your hands. You’re practically stumbling around the room as you try and find a good area to set them down.

Theodore immediately stands up, ignoring his surprise and takes the boxes from you. “Here, let me help,” he offers.

“Thank you,” you say gratefully, wiping your hands on your jeans as you watch Theodore place the boxes down besides your bed. “Theodore, right?”

He glances up at you with a bewildered look. “How do you know my name?” You stare at him incredulously, immediately walking over to him.

“Did you not go online to check your housing application?” Theodore stares at you blankly, having literally zero idea what you’re talking about, and also feeling a bit enchanted by how beautiful you are. He immediately pushes that last thought to the side.

“Have you even read your email?” You ask slowly, eyes widening when Theodore shakes his head as a no. “How the hell did you know to come here, then?”

“My friend did everything for me.” It’s true; Theodore had been so overwhelmed with this new concept of digital mail, along with the whole ‘living with muggles’ ideal that he had passed on the entire daunting task to Hermione, the only person he knew who’d have any idea on how to help him. She had been the one to show him how to use a phone, what email was, etcetera. She was also the one who had read those said emails and just told him where to go, after an exhausting episode of Theodore trying and failing to open the right email for almost an hour.

“How the hell are you a university student?” You mumble, flopping down on your bare bed. “Ouch.” You make a face as your back hits the mattress. Theodore had laid on his just before you got there, and yeah. It felt like laying on cement, and it made him miss the novelties of Hogwarts.

“So, what’s your name then?” Theodore asks, looking down at your figure as he awkwardly hovers next to your bed. You laugh, giving him a warm smile as you introduce yourself. Theodore could tell, right then and there, that he was going to like you.

You and Theodore become fast acquaintances. You’re not particularly close; Theodore barely even considers you a friend. However, he doesn’t despise your company, and actually finds it sort of comforting talking to you when he starts to miss the familiarity and convenience of the wizarding world. He finds himself imagining your reaction if he ever told you the truth about him being a wizard quite often. He likes to think that you’d laugh.

Theodore can immediately tell that you’re not the most, well, academically inclined student. You’re usually out partying, or hanging out with friends. He doesn’t judge though, knowing that different people have different priorities. You kind of remind him of Mattheo, in that way. Except you’re much more breathtaking. And kind. But he’s getting ahead of himself.

“Would you help me study?” Theodore has never been more caught off guard in his life before you uttered those words. You’re laying in bed, like you usually are, scrolling on your phone, while Theodore scribbles away at his desk. He turns to look at you, an eyebrow clearly raised.

“You? Studying? I didn’t think you had it in you.” A pillow is very quickly launched into his face, and he laughs as he picks it up off the ground before tossing it back to you. “I’m kidding. Pull up a chair. Tell me what you need.”

Your expression morphs into one of relief, and Theodore hates the way it makes his heart stutter in his chest. You get out of bed, grabbing the chair from your untouched desk and placing it next to him before taking a seat. “I’m doing basic fucking calculus, but I can’t do it. Seriously, I’m good at bullshitting my way through my other classes, but not this one.”

“I get it,” Theodore says calmly, moving his things to make way for your textbook and homework on his desk. “I was really bad at math too.”

You scoff, clearly not believing him. “Oh, please. I don’t think there’s a single thing in the world you don’t know.” Theodore can’t help himself as he feels a faint blush bloom over his cheeks. He thanks Merlin that you’re too busy fiddling with your pencil and paper to notice.

“It just takes practice. And I’m helping you now, aren’t I?”

“Yeah. You’re a fucking saint.” You push your open textbook towards him, pointing to a specific problem set. “This chain rule shit makes no sense.”

Theodore stifles a laugh as he watches you glare at the paper, as if it’s personally wronged you. “Watch me do it. I’ll explain as I go.”

That night, the two of you worked in tandem for hours. You’re a surprisingly diligent student; you stay concentrated and don’t give up easily. Theodore finds himself getting lost in your expression more than what you’re writing on the paper.

Once it gets late, you lean back in your chair, stretching to unknot your muscles. “You’re a good teacher, Theodore, y’know?” He chuckles, shaking his head.

“You’re a good student. You’re easy to teach.” You swat his shoulder playfully, giving him a shy smile, and Theodore melts right then and there. He wouldn’t be surprised if you told him he had hearts in his eyes.

“Will you help me in the future, too?” You ask, more timid than he’s ever seen you, and his heart squeezes with excitement.

“Yes,” he breathes out, maybe a little too quickly. “Yes, any time. It’s no problem.”

A wide smile blooms across your face, and you lean over to kiss his cheek. It’s quick, and very obviously friendly, but Theodore can’t help but to start imagining his wedding with you as the bride. “Thank you,” you whisper to him, and he wants to kiss you until you can’t breathe.

This whole ‘little crush’, as Draco likes to call it after hearing Theodore gush about you over the phone, was easy to ignore at first. Theodore’s not sure how easy it’ll be to ignore if he’s going to be your teacher.

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

Your voice rings out through your quiet dorm room. You and Theodore had been studying, side by side, for around an hour. Theodore’s pencil falls out of his hand after hearing your question, and he quickly picks it back up off the page so as to not reveal how surprised he is.

“Uh- yeah? Why?” Theodore’s voice sounds incredibly raspy, and clears his throat to mask his shock.

“Just… wondering,” you say quietly, returning back to your work like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Theodore tries to do the same, but he can’t after your sudden question.

“Have you?” He returns, staring holes into the page in front of him yet not reading anything so his gaze doesn’t stray towards you.

“No.” You say it so nonchalantly, yet it was the complete opposite of what he expected you to say.

“How?” The question slips out before Theodore can stop himself. “You go out, like, every night.”

“Hey!” You protest. “I stopped. I’m studying more now. And plus, just because I go out a lot doesn’t mean I’m out kissing random men.”

You had a point there, and Theodore shrugs. “I don’t know. Just seems hard to believe.”

Your eyebrow raises, and your tone takes a more guarded stance. “What do you mean by that?”

Theodore’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head side to side, quickly looking at you. “No, no. I just meant- well, you’re very… pretty.” He says awkwardly, trying to not make it seem like he has ill intentions. “I find it difficult to think that no one has ever, like, asked to kiss you or anything?”

You shrug, dropping your pencil to keep your attention fully on Theodore. “It’s not that people haven’t. I just…” You hesitate for a moment. “I’m scared to.”

“Why, because you’ve never done it before?” Theodore can’t help but pry. You nod your head as a yes.

“I don’t want to fuck it up, I guess.”

“Well, how else are you supposed to learn?”

You’re silent for a moment, thinking hard. “I guess I just imagined someone, like, teaching me. A friend or something. Although I know that’s so unrealistic.” You sigh, leaning back in your chair and raising your arms above your head to stretch. “It’s getting late. I think I’m gonna head to bed.” You change the topic so fast it gives him whiplash.

Theodore only nods as you start to pack up your stuff, but he’s distracted; he can’t get your words out of his mind. You want a friend? To teach you? This whole situation sounds absurd to him, but it also sounds perfect.

“I could…” Theodore trails off before clearing his throat, looking down at the floor to avoid your gaze and your reaction. “I could teach you. If you want.”

Theodore hears silence, and eventually, his eyes meet yours from across the room. You have a neutral expression, and that scares him more than anything.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly backtracks, waving his hands in front of him like he can somehow take back his words. “I-it was stupid of me, just forget it.”

“No,” you answer quickly, walking towards Theodore to stand next to him. He quickly stands up, feeling jittery all of a sudden, as if sitting wouldn’t be appropriate for this situation. “No, I’m down. You already teach me math, why not teach me how to kiss, too?”

Theodore’s heart stops. He can’t breathe. He searches your eyes for any hint of hesitation, but he can’t find any. “Okay,” he breathes out, fighting the urge to pull you close to him. “Okay.”

Everything after this moment, Theodore knows, he’s fucked. There’s no way he’s ever going to get over you now.

hi theodore! i’m coming home soon. let’s study!!!!

Theodore groans after reading your text, realizing that he now has to get out of bed and do something productive after bed rotting for the whole day. Hermione had just introduced him to something called TikTok, and he had fallen into the rabbit hole of watching video after video without stopping.

Once you get back, Theodore is already set up with all of his books at his desk, hunched over it while scribbling something onto a sheet of paper.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You deadpan, dropping your bag onto the floor. “Why are you not on the bed?”

“Why would I be on the bed?” Theodore asks, not even bothering to look up.

“Stupid,” you mumble, flicking the side of his head. “I thought you were going to teach me how to kiss?”

Theodore chokes, falling into a coughing fit as his eyes widen. You immediately start patting his back, clearly amused by his reaction. “Jesus, weren’t you the one who suggested this?”

“You told me you wanted to study,” he manages to say between coughs, gradually getting his breath back.

“Yeah. Exactly. I’m studying. How to kiss.” You roll your eyes as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, dragging him onto your bed. Your bed. Wow. He thinks he could die right here, happy.

You sit in a criss cross, placing your hands on your knees and sitting up straight. “Okay. I’m ready,” you say strongly, and Theodore can’t help but admire the stupidly determined look on your face, as if you’re going into battle instead of doing something as simple as kissing.

“You don’t need to sit that proper. Or stiff,” Theodore muses, trying to hide his smirk. He sits on the edge of your bed, gesturing for you to do the same. “I promise it’s easier like this.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” you joke, swinging your legs over the bed and down next to his, your arm just barely brushing against his. Theodore’s breath hitches. This is probably the first time you’ve ever touched him. He has to concentrate with every fiber of his being to not do or say something stupid just because he can vaguely feel your arm against his.

Theodore tries to think of the best way to approach this unique situation, his mind running through hundreds of different scenarios that all make his pants tighten uncomfortably. He turns towards you, one hand gingerly raising up to caress your cheek. “You can’t just go straight in. There’s foreplay to kissing as well.”

You nod so quickly, eyes wide with concentration, and he thinks he can die just from how innocent you look. “The guy will usually touch you first, like this.” Theodore’s thumb drags across your bottom lip, his eyes fixed onto it, unmoving. “Then, you can touch him. Grab the back of my neck, for example.”

You follow so obediently, one of your hands moving to touch the back of his neck, your fingers threading through his hair. “Like this?” you ask. He has to hold back a moan just from your touch.

Theodore nods. “You ready?”

He can see your breath hitch. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” you murmur, eyes searching his. You look almost scared, and his free hand goes to squeeze yours.

“Relax. It’s just me. It’ll be fine,” Theodore whispers as he grabs your face closer to his, his nose brushing against yours tantalizingly, slowly, before he finally kisses you.

Theodore would have fainted if it weren’t for the fact that you’re stiff as a board. He finds it almost comical as he kisses you and gets no movement at all in return. “Try pursing your lips a bit. Open your mouth when I open mine.” He tries to put it in as simple terms as possible, and it kind of works.

His heart beats so loud in his ears that he’s gone almost deaf, your lips mingling with his causing a fire to spread throughout his body. He has to stop himself from groaning into the kiss as your hands tighten around his curls, pulling him closer to you as you kiss him back with the same fervor.

Theodore wants to whine when you pull away, his body following yours, desperate for more of you. His eyes flutter open to meet yours, wide and glassy. “Wow,” you whisper. “It’s better than I imagined it to be.”

Theodore swallows heavily, and nods slowly. “You’re… good. For a beginner.” That makes you laugh, shaking your head from side to side.

“I feel like a fish out of water. But thanks. I’m glad I’m practicing with you.” And you say it so earnestly that Theodore can’t help but feel like he’s corrupting you. He wants to scream: I’m doing this for completely selfish reasons, because I never want you to kiss anyone else for as long as you live. But he doesn’t. Instead, he just nods.

“Anytime.”

i’ll be home in 5! lesson?

Theodore almost chokes as your message flashes across his phone screen. He immediately sprints to the bathroom, brushing his teeth hurriedly and trying to tame his hair in the mirror by running his hands through it. It didn’t really work.

It had been a few days since your last ‘lesson’ with Theodore, and not a day went by where he didn’t think about it at least three times a minute. The two of you hadn’t spoken about it. Theodore wasn’t necessarily avoiding the topic, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to bring it up, and he expected that you felt the same way; this is why your message greatly surprised him.

“Hi!” You beam at Theodore as you fling the door open, dropping a bunch of bags onto your bed. “Sorry, I was out shopping with my friends.”

Theodore clears his throat, trying his best to sound and look normal. He isn’t doing too good at the latter though; he’s sitting stiffly on his bed, looking like he’s bracing for an attack. “No worries.”

You shoot him a weird look. “Why the fuck do you look like that?” Your bluntness actually makes him soften, and helps to soothe his nerves.

“I’m just sitting here,” Theodore defends himself.

“Ohhhkay then,” you murmur, sitting down at Theodore’s desk like you owned it. He watches you, confusedly, but can’t find the words. “What?” You gesture for him to come over. “Dude. Hello? Are you high or something? I need another lesson.” 

You slam your textbook onto his desk, and Theodore has never felt more stupid in his entire life. He looks away so you can’t see the redness that has bloomed across his entire face and neck. Kill me now is the new mantra that blooms in his mind as he moves off his bed and towards his desk.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he grumbles, taking a seat next to you. “Show me the problem set.”

Theodore has never been more grateful for your innocence than right now, when you start blabbering about some new math concept you don’t understand instead of teasing him for being as red as a tomato. He’s not sure how long he’ll be able to survive this.

if ur home, i need you to teach me something new!!!! (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

Theodore immediately slaps himself once he realizes he’s smiling at his phone screen because of the damn emoticon you used. It’s something he would think to be incredibly stupid and childish if anyone else did it, but since you’re doing it, it’s turned endearing and cute. You’re driving him to the point of insanity.

He hates how he feels like your puppy dog, always waiting and doing nothing of importance at your shared dorm, getting up from his bed excitedly at a text from you. But also, he wouldn’t change a thing.

“What does something new entail? Have you finally moved on from calculus?” Theodore jokes after the two of you get situated on the floor, leaning against your respective beds, legs entangled in the middle. It’s oddly comforting to Theodore, and domestic in a way that makes his heart twist.

You reach a hand behind your head, rubbing your neck as you look at him shyly. “Um, it’s kind of on a different topic…”

Theodore can feel his dick harden within half a second of you saying that. He shifts immediately, trying to make it not visible to you. “Explain.”

The blush that coats your cheeks is one that Theodore wishes he could take a picture of and frame. “Shut up! You know exactly what I mean.”

“Well, not exactly,” he teases, nudging your foot with his. “So, explain.”

You say nothing, opting to crawl towards Theodore, kissing his cheek briefly before settling on his lap. “That. But more. And better.”

Theodore can’t think. He lost all train of thought as soon as you sat on his lap so casually like it meant absolutely nothing. His hands move absentmindedly, touching your waist, skimming over the exposed skin. “Arms around my neck,” he whispers before kissing you properly.

You’re much more bold now, mimicking his movements and even trying to forcefully shove your tongue into his mouth, which Theodore thinks is cute but also screams painfully inexperienced.

“Okay, wait, wait,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling back after you try and shove your tongue down his throat for the fifth time. “Right idea, wrong execution.”

You look away, averting your eyes to the ground and fisting the hem of Theodore’s shirt in your small hands. “You don’t need to be nervous, or rush things,” he says slowly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear gently, trying to sooth you. “Wait for our kisses to become more heated. When my mouth opens naturally, that’s when you can use your tongue, baby.”

You nod, clinging onto every word he says. Theodore kisses you again, and Merlin you must be perfect for him because you listen to him so well. You follow his advice, matching his slow, languid pace before speeding it up as you rock your hips against his. He groans into your mouth and you take the opportunity to brush your tongue against his. Your hands grip onto his shoulders, fingers squeezing with concentration, breath heavy with desire.

“That’s better,” he tells you once the two of you pull away. At this point, he can’t form any thoughts except for acknowledging the fact that he’s painfully hard underneath you, and every shift of your body on his lap makes his dick throb. He’s amazed that you can’t feel it. Either that, or you’ve chosen to save him the embarrassment by not saying anything.

You break out into a smile, kissing his cheek quickly. “We should practice like this more often,” you muse, observing his reaction. And damn, if he doesn’t have the craziest one. Theodore’s ears go red, and his eyes dart around the room, willing to look at anything but you.

“Um, sure. If you want.”

Theodore’s not sure how long he can hold himself back for anymore. The two of you are making out at least a couple times a week now, and it always starts with you throwing yourself onto him, which somehow just makes him feel even dirtier. He can’t deny the fact that he loves it though, that he spends all of his free time fantasizing about you and when the next time you’ll jump his bones could be. He can’t bring himself to care that he used to be so studious when it came to school; now, he only studies you and your body.

You’re currently lying down on Theodore’s bed, your hair splayed across his pillow as he ravages you with his mouth. You’ve been making out for God knows how long. The only indicator of time passing has been the sun setting outside the window.

When you start to kiss down his neck, Theodore bites his lip to stop a moan from escaping, his head falling into the crook of your neck as you lick and suck random at random spots. You seem to come to your senses shortly after, when you pull away and stop what you’re doing. Theodore feels his heart sink.

You scramble to explain yourself. “Oh my God! I’m so sorry! I just got kind of caught up in the moment.” Your hands frantically wave in front of you, as if trying to take back your actions.

“It’s alright,” Theodore answers quickly, clearing his throat to give him time to gather his courage. “I liked it.”

“Really?” Your eyes widen. “I mean, cause, I’ve been thinking. We could, you know. Go further.” Theodore exhales slowly; he can feel a massive weight being lifted off of his shoulders. He could scream with pure happiness. “Whatever you want, baby. I’m down for anything. Everything.”

You think for a quick second, your face adapting that far off look that Theodore has always loved, with your eyes zoning out and your teeth tugging on your bottom lip. He wants so badly to kiss you again.

“I want to ask a question, but I’ll understand if you don’t want to answer.” You finally speak, your voice timid under Theodore’s piercing gaze. He nods, waiting for you to continue. “Are you… a virgin?”

He stifles a laugh, your facial expression underneath him almost too cute to bear. “No, baby. You want me to teach you how to fuck too?”

Your face flushes a dark red, and one of your hands reaches up to push his shoulder. “You don’t have to say it like that,” you hiss, shifting under him, pulling the hem of your skirt down. Theodore doesn’t miss the way your thighs press together; you’re falling apart for him and it’s all he can do to pull himself together. The last thing he wants is to scare or overwhelm you. If he hurt you on accident… he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

“Are you sure you want your first time to be with me?” Theodore whispers, opting to lay down next to you instead of continuing to hover over you. “There’s no need to rush. And if you want it to be special-”

“It is special,” you interject, shifting onto your side so that you’re facing him. Theodore’s nose brushes against yours, and he can’t help but notice the way the light from your lamp catches in your eyes and how your eyelashes flutter slightly with every blink. He feels nauseous with affection and desire. It’s so consuming that he feels like he might drown just from laying next to you. “It’s special because it’s with you. You’re the only person I trust.”

Theodore watches you bite your lower lip anxiously, waiting for his response. He lifts his hand to tug your lip away from your teeth, swiping the pad of his thumb over it. “You know I’ll take care of you,” he whispers earnestly, and he means it in the way where he’d look after you under any circumstance. He means it in the way where he’d go out of his way to buy you snacks and a coffee if you were too lazy to do it yourself, and in the way where he’d lie to anyone about anything for you, and in the way where he would sacrifice everything just to see you smile.

“But I don’t want to hurt you.” Theodore watches you intensely, gauging your reaction, hanging onto every flash of emotion your face reveals.

“You’re the only one I’d be fine with hurting me.” You hesitantly lean closer before kissing him softly, more gentle than ever before. The kiss is slow and sensual as Theodore’s hand rests on the side of your face, cradling you close to him as your hands roam across his chest, his neck, his back. Your words make Theodore’s vision swirl, and he tries to drink in all of your little movements, every hitch of your breath and all of your touches across his body.

Theodore slowly rolls back on top of you, his arms bracketing your head as he slots his knee in between your legs. Your small gasp and the clench of your hands in his hair tell him everything he needs to know.

“You feel it, don’t you? That warmth in between your legs, cara mia?” He whispers into your ear, playfully biting your earlobe before kissing the spot behind it. You shiver in his grasp.

“Do something,” you whisper, burrowing your face into the crook of Theodore’s neck as his fingers toy with the hem of your skirt, pulling it down slowly, teasingly.

“The only thing I’ll teach you is patience, amore. You just leave the rest to me.” Theodore exhales shakily as he moves down your body, kissing along your bare shoulder, lifting your shirt to graze his lips across your stomach, grabbing your panties between his teeth before pulling them down your legs. He moans as he looks up at you; your bright, docile eyes pierce his soul.

“You look perfect,” he whispers, trailing his kisses upwards. “So perfect laying there for me, baby. You’re so sweet.” Theodore feels drunk off your scent, high off your touch as your fingers knot in his hair.

You whine as he kisses your clit, your heels digging into the mattress as your head lulls to the side. “That feels weird. Good,” you whisper, gasping as his tongue dips between your folds.

“I’m just getting you ready.” Theodore nudges your clit with his nose one last time before moving up to kiss you. He’s trying to concentrate on the way your tongue wraps around his, but he’s a little too preoccupied rutting his hips into you like some dog in heat.

He realizes you’ve noticed when you chuckle, and his heart stops beating at that innocent sound. “You wound me,” Theodore whispers as your hands gingerly trail down his shirt before helping him remove it, his own hands untying his sweats so he can take them off.

“You’re beautiful under me.” Theodore’s cock is hard and leaking, almost pressed up against his stomach as he lines himself up with you. He can see your eyes darting back and forth between your legs and his eyes, your teeth nervously tugging on your bottom lip. Theodore raises a hand to your face and uses his thumb to smooth out the wrinkle between your eyebrows, his own now creased with worry.

“You know we don’t need to do this,” he says, even though it physically pains him to do so because he feels like he might die if he’s not inside you within the next minute.

“I want to. You know that,” you whisper, kissing his cheek to try and sooth his concern.

Theodore bites back a whimper as his tip brushes against your entrance. “Tell me if it hurts. I’ll take it slow.”

The two of you gasp as he first pushes in, your hands moving to his shoulders to squeeze him almost painfully. Theodore grabs your knees, pushing them apart slowly to give himself more room. You whimper with each of his minuscule movements, and it takes all of his strength to not shove himself inside of you right away.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice coming out strangled and his breaths turning uneven. Your eyes are shimmering as you look up at him, and a strange sensation washes over him; he wants to take care of you forever.

You nod your head, unable to form words as his dick moves slowly inside you. A punched out moan escapes your lips as Theodore pushes all the way in, and his head immediately falls onto your chest, his eyes screwed tightly shut.

“You’re so warm, baby,” Theodore manages to get out as he starts to fuck you, each slow movement of his hips bringing him to a point in between torture and heaven. You can only whine in response, your nails scratching down his back to help ground you.

“Faster,” you plead, trying to rock your hips into his. Theodore hisses, and he feels breathless as he bends your leg at the knee to hit a deeper angle.

“You’re okay?” he asks yet again, terrified to hurt you yet struggling to keep his composure.

“Stop asking. I’ll tell you if I’m not,” you whisper back. You wrap your legs around Theodore’s waist, letting one of his hands slip behind your head to hold you as he thrusts into you.

“Tell me what feels good,” Theodore murmurs into your ear, grunting with every thrust. “You’re so tight, bimba, Merlin.”

Every one of your moans goes straight to Theodore’s dick, only making him want to fuck you harder, rougher, faster. It’s all he can think about as he thrusts into your warm and wet pussy, his legs going weak as he loses himself to the pleasure.

“Oh, right there,” you cry out, twisting the sheets under your fingers, whimpering as Theodore lifts up your shirt to kiss your breast, his tongue swirling around your peaked nipple. “Fuck, Theo, please.”

“Use your words, baby,” he pants as his hips snap into yours, his head clouded with thoughts of you and only you. “Tell me what you want.”

You lean your head up, desperate to be closer to him, to somehow feel even more connected. Theodore kisses you softly, a stark difference to the way he’s brutally fucking you, and the contrast pushes him dangerously close.

“Inside,” you manage to get out, whispering against his lips. “Cum inside. Please.”

Theodore’s movement stalls, and he has to physically restrain himself from flooding your insides on the spot. “I-I can’t.” His head swims as he responds, his heart hurting from denying himself the pleasure of marking you, of claiming you as his.

“I’m on birth control.” You bite down hard on his shoulder to try and ground yourself, your pussy squeezing him impossibly tighter. Theodore groans simply at the thought of your insides coated in his cum. “Please, I’m so close.”

“I’ll give you what you want, baby,” Theodore whispers as he starts to fuck into you relentlessly, chasing his own orgasm along with yours. “I want you to cum so hard you can’t think about anything else but me ruining this pussy for anyone else. You’re mine now. You understand?”

You cry out Theodore’s name and his mind goes blank. His hips chase the pleasure and he crumples on top of you as he finally releases inside of you, biting your neck as your pussy sucks him in deeper somehow as you cum with him. “Fuck, take it baby. Take it all.” His hips stutter as he fucks you through your orgasm, watching you with hooded eyes as your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers again, thrusting one final time, letting you come down from your high. One of his hands moves up to wipe your hair away from your face, petting your cheek gently as you relax under him. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” you respond quietly, eyes fluttering open to meet his. You look so dazed, yet you’re glowing with pleasure, and he can feel his dick inside you hardening again. But he says nothing. Theodore pulls out slowly, almost whimpering as he loses the warmth of your pussy. He cleans the two of you up wordlessly, silently, yet he can feel the warmth emanating from you.

He smiles as you immediately reach your hands out for him once he’s done, obeying your command by letting you wrap yourself around him, head tucked into the crook of his neck and one leg tossed over him. Theodore kisses the crown of your crown of your head, stroking your back gently as you melt into him.

“Again. Later,” you murmur softly and almost bashfully against his skin. Theodore is unable to control the smile that blooms across his face, a smile that rarely appears, one that signifies true and unfiltered happiness. He’s thankful you can’t see it.

“Whatever you want, princess.” And he means it. Even though he’s technically nothing more than a roommate slash friend to you, he’d go to the ends of the world if you asked him to. He’d follow your every word. He has the worst, most terrifying, crush on you.

Hockey Boyfriend! Aerion & Valarr Targaryen x Reader

Headcannons about what Hockey player! Aerion and Valarr Targaryen would be like as boyfriends, knew I had to write these as soon as I saw this fanart ughhhh

Warnings: Suggestive, Some violence obv we're talking about Aerion

Hockeyplayer!Aerion  who teaches you to skate on the team's private ice during off-hours. He holds both your hands, skating backward, pulling you along while you wobble and curse. He laughs at you with that sharp, beautiful laugh but he never lets go. When you fall, he falls with you, cushioning your body with his, and suddenly you're both lying on the cold ice, his breath fogging in the air between you. "Again," he says, helping you up. He'll stay out here all night if that's what it takes. He loves watching you improve. He loves catching you when you fail even more.

Hockeyplayer!Aerion  who makes you sit as close to the penalty box as possible, right on the aisle, first row, directly in his line of sight. Because he knows he's going to get sent there. It's not a matter of if, but when. And when he does, skating off the ice with his helmet off and his silver-gold hair plastered to his forehead, he wants the first thing he sees to be your face. He'll sit on that narrow bench, jaw still tight, and mouth three words to you across the divider: Worth it. Every time.

Hockeyplayer!Aerion  who insists you wear his jersey to every single game, home or away. Not just any jersey. His. The one with his name arched across the back and his number on the sleeves. He pulls you into it himself before each game, tugging the hem down over your hips, smoothing the fabric over your shoulders like he's dressing a prized possession. "Let them see," he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear. "Let every man in this arena know exactly whose name you wear." He gets a certain look in his eye when he skates past your seat and sees his number on your back. It's the same look he gets right before he scores.

Aerion is so obsessed with Old Valyria that I bet he learned high Valyrian.

He’s definitely fluent in the language, even if Targaryen doesn’t speak it much after all of the dragons died.

I can see him use it to you in the bedroom when he fuck you in the mattress, your face down pressed in the silk sheets, his face close to your ear. He would pound into you while whispering dirty words in his native tongue like “Look how pretty you are under me” or “I’m gonna fuck a baby in you.”

You won’t understand a word of what he say, but his voice sounds sooo good and it would make you clench around him in a loud moan. This mf would be so pleased to himself.

Can I please have King Maekar Targaryen + heavy degradation/praise with prompt 33? ❤️‍🔥

𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 | 𝐌𝐀𝐄𝐊𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍.

When King Maekar Targaryen overhears you defending him when a very ladies wish to know whether he can still perform as any young man ought to, Maekar has no trouble in showing you exactly what he can do.

Requested: King Maekar Targaryen.

69 ENTWINED SHADOWS:

Heavy Degradation + Praise.

Prompt: 33. “I’ll be your devoted monster — let me fuck you slow and deep.”

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: high degradation, high praise, gentle sex, headlock position, explicit sexual content, possessive behaviour, age gap (reader is in her late twenties, maekar is most definitely in his late fifties, I said what I said because he and Baelor are aged up in the TV series), minors dni.

I cannot always write what anyone has in mind, so hopefully this leans towards what you wanted, cause I might have gotten carried away a bit here, emphasis on monster and emphasis on Maekar reminding you just what a good little whore you I mean we are.

The solar smelled of beeswax candles, myrrh incense, and the faint floral sweetness of the ladies’ perfumes, rosewater, lavender, and crushed violets. Soft laughter floated on the air like silk.

You sat among them, your young body draped in a gown of deep crimson silk that clung to your curves, the fabric whispering against your skin with every shift. The hearth crackled warmly, casting flickering golden light across the Myrish rugs and tapestries.

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ Ghostface!aerion x reader x ghostface!valarr

This work contains : SMUT and a lot of triggering things so read at you own risk

summary : With the end of exams at King’s Landing University comes a wave of brutal student murders, leaving the city drowning in fear and rumors. But when Tybolt Lannister throws a lavish Halloween party to distract the elite of the campus, the killers seize the perfect opportunity to turn the night into chaos — especially after setting their sights on you.

Tw : This is straight up porn, and filthy omg…they are freaky asf, they should seek therapy as well.. so blowjob (2x) oral (m. Receiving), doggy, Slight voyeurism lmao? Multiple orgasms, breeding kink, murder, etc.. Wc : 4721

Part 1 : here

Aerion’s grunts were the only sounds filling the room—or perhaps simply the only sounds you were able to hear at this moment. Every ragged breath and every low groan that managed to slip past his lips while your wet, yet skilled tongue traced the prominent, oh-so-pretty vein along his length was only encouraging you further. The small iron ball adorning your tongue was creating a striking contrast, as the cool metal was gliding against the warmth of your mouth with each slow, deliberate, practiced lick.

You were still on your knees before him, your skin already slightly reddened by the carpet burns you had earned only moments earlier. At the moment, however, they were the least of your concerns. You were far too absorbed in your task to pay them any mind, your hands firmly anchored around his hips as though afraid he might push you away before you got the chance to swallow every last drop while tending to him.

Your heart was pounding so violently with anxious anticipation, so loudly within your chest that you wondered whether he could hear it over the uneven rhythm of his own breathing?

Were you pleasuring him enough?

Or

What if he did not like it?

After a long moment, curiosity finally drew your gaze away from your traitorous thoughts and upward.

And damn…

The sight before you was fucking gorgeous.

There he was.

Aerion’s head had fallen back slightly, his throat exposed as his jaw hung open in a desperate attempt to keep any further sounds from escaping and shattering the fearsome image of the Targaryen he insisted on maintaining. From your position, you could not see his face clearly, but yet it was not that difficult to imagine his eyes squeezed shut, his lashes resting against flushed cheeks while his lips were parted and restrained groans the only sounds escaping him despite every effort to contain them.

The guy who so often carried himself with cold arrogance was nowhere to be found.

Instead, he looked almost undone, the carefully cultivated composure he wore like armor was finally beginning to splinter before your very eyes.

His fingers were buried deep within your hair—the wig had been scattered in a corner of the room— no longer guiding you with deliberate control but simply holding on, tightening and relaxing in unconscious rhythm whenever another wave of pleasure overtook him. The muscles along his jaw flexing as you were watching him swallow hard as though he was fighting a battle —that he was probably losing it seems— against himself.

Each line of his body had grown with restraint, His shoulders tensing, his breathing that was shallow and uneven, and more than once you could catch the subtle twitch of his hips before he mastered himself again. It was obvious he was desperately clinging to whatever little self-control that was remaining, so determined not to surrender to you too soon.

Seeing him like this—stripped of his usual confidence and betrayed by every involuntary reaction—filled you with a certain quiet satisfaction and discarded the previous questions playing in loop in your head. It was a rare thing indeed to witness the Aerion Targaryen relinquish even a fraction of his control, and rarer still to know that you, alone were capable of drawing such reactions from him.

“Fuck—” he pushed your head back, away from his fully hard and now wet cock, trying to catch his breath and regain a little control before speaking.

The sudden distance caught you off guard, and a soft, protesting whimper escaped your lips before you could stop it.

You looked up at him, your eyes still glossy from trying to take him moments earlier.

The sound seemed to pull him from his thoughts.

Slowly, his usual sneer returned, curling across his handsome face as he realized what had just happened—or rather, what he had managed to coax out of you.

A low, mocking laugh slipped past his lips.

His hand came up to cup your jaw, his grip firm but unhurried, tilting your face toward him.

The corner of his mouth lifted into an amused smirk as he studied your expression, clearly savoring every second of your reaction.

“Nuh-uh, sweet girl… My seed cannot be wasted here.” Even then, even as he was clearly trying to regain control of himself, that familiar confidence still lingered in his voice, that same mocking arrogance, the infuriating certainty in his voice, that is when the realization settled over you almost instantly, The way you had almost forgotten that he was toying with you. They were toying with you. And you were just another toy in their hands—one they had yet to break.

but…

Some toys are meant to be far more difficult to break than others, no?

You remained silent for a moment, still flushed and slightly dazed, your attention fixed entirely on him. You found yourself hanging on every word that left his lips. Every subtle crack in his voice, every fleeting sign that, despite all his composure, you had managed to affect him.

There was something strangely satisfying about it.

Because Aerion spent so much of his time hiding behind cutting remarks and cold expressions that witnessing even the slightest fracture in that carefully crafted façade felt almost unreal.

And for just a moment, you wondered whether he realized you’d noticed it too.

You were flushed and dazed, your eyes fixed on him as though you couldn’t bear to look anywhere else. Your lips parted as you swallowed hard, silently waiting for him to decide what came next.

“Get on the bed.” he marked a pause as he pointed the same bed, where valarr had given you the best cunni of your life, the sheets wrinkled from your previous utilisation..

“On all fours. We don’t want Valarr to miss the show, huh?” A mocking pout across his face as the coolness of his ring put you back to your senses when his fingers came across your lips to wipe away the remaining of his pre release.. “You’re going to be a good girl for him, yeah?” he gave a small nod toward his cousin, as the teasing words left his lips.

Your gaze followed.

Valarr was still sitting in the small velvet armchair, watching the two of you with an intensity that made your breath catch. His eyes never left you, still filled with an hunger that was almost unnerving.

It was only after a few seconds that you noticed the blood, that was coating his hands. A dark smear stained his forehead too—he must have absentmindedly wiped his face with the same bloodied fingers.

Hot.

The sight should have horrified you. Putting you back to your senses, waking you up from your trance. It did not. Instead you found yourself staring, but only for a few seconds, because then something else registered.

The room had fallen quiet.

And this is the moment it registered.

Irina.

The muffled sobs had stopped, Completely and probably since long minutes now.. The realization struck you like a blow, the girl was dead.

Your stomach tightened at the realisation, this was your occasion, to run away from them, they were distracted, you would have just enough time to escape right?

but no, your gaze drifted back to Aerion. You couldn´t care if there was a corpse in the same room at you, or rather you decided to put the realisation in stand-by. You would deal with that shit later.

You gave a small nod in response to his ordee before obediently climbing back onto the bed, settling into the position he had asked for.

You were bracing yourself against the mattress as you could hear the footsteps approaching the bed. Your panties had been previously ripped away, and the position you were in, was leaving you terribly vulnerable. Your bare cunt was already wet, still coated with the remnants of the pretty cousin’s spit —that was comfortably sat across the room— mixed with your own arousal.

You probably did not need any preparation, but still.

Aerion was in a good mood tonight and it seems that he did not wish to break you too quickly. He enjoyed toying with you.

At last, you felt the mattress dip behind you, followed by the warmth of his presence along your back, quickly followed by the direct brushing of his hard cock against your folds, teasing you with nothing more than the tip, but still enough to tear a sharp gasp from your lips.

So sensitive

A low grunt escaped him at the sight of your cunt tightening around nothing. His hand came down against one of your cheeks with a sharp slap, drawing another helpless whimper from you and only deepening your arousal.

“Fuck— look at this pretty pussy…, she can’t wait for me to fill her with my babies huh?” he hissed sharply as the tip circled your soaked folds with deliberate slowness, his voice rough enough to send another shiver through your body.

You were not a virgin, though neither were you particularly experienced. But, you knew your way around pleasure, and more importantly, you knew how to leave a lasting impression on a man. Yet somehow, every filthy word leaving Aerion’s lips unraveled that confidence piece by piece.

The praise.

The possessiveness.

The way he spoke as though your every reaction belonged to him alone.

It was all sent straight to your head.

You did not want to disappoint Aerion. Nor Valarr, who remained comfortably seated across the room, watching the two of you with the unwavering patience of a predator waiting for the perfect moment to attack its prey. His deep eyes following every little twitch of your body, every uneven breath, every involuntary reaction that betrayed your mounting anticipation.

Knowing you were being watched only made your cheeks burn hotter.

You could feel the weight of both their gazes upon you, and despite the embarrassment curling in your stomach, you found yourself craving their approval more than you cared to admit.

Your fingers tightened against the sheets beneath you.

You nodded eagerly, almost instinctively, your breathing growing shallower as your body trembled with anticipation. Your pulse hammered in your ears, and every passing heartbeat seemed to stretch the wait a little longer.

Impatience settled deep within you, leaving you tense with expectation as you waited for the one thing that refused to come quickly enough.

“Aerion…” you moaned, shifting your hips toward him in a desperate attempt to create more friction, to finally have him inside you. But unfortunately the attempt earned you nothing more than another low, mocking sound from him.

His index finger was brushing between your folds, parting them with a deliberate slowness as he took in the mess you were. “Please…” you breathed desperately and your voice cracked when he made no movements. “Please… please…”

The words were falling from your lips before you could stop them, each plea more desperate than the last. You hadn’t even realized tears had begun to spill down your cheeks and ruining your mascara.

Your body was trembling and aching with need, every second stretching into an endless loop.

You needed him and the emptiness was becoming almost unbearable.

You didn’t see the slight tilt of his head at your whine, but you felt his hands gently caress the curve of your ass before pecking gently the redness caused by his slaps. The tenderness of the gesture caught you completely off guard and didn’t fail to send butterflies straight to your belly.

“What is it, pretty girl?” he murmured, almost whispered, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Want the dragon to fuck you?”

Your body clenched involuntarily at the adjective he had used to describe himself.

It wasn’t exactly surprising.

Everyone knew the Targaryens descended from royalty. Their ancestors were said to have ridden dragons and rule the skies and even now their family’s sigil still bore the famous three-headed dragon.

Aerion, however, had always taken that legacy far more seriously than most.

Around campus, it was almost common knowledge that he had developed something of an obsession with the mythical creatures, weaving them into his identity with the same confidence—and arrogance—that seemed to define everything he did.

You only nodded in response to his question, but the sharp slap he delivered to your cunt a second later was enough to remind you that a nod wasn’t the answer he wanted.

He expected words. Not silent obedience, that would be too easy..

“Yes! Yes! Yes, please!” He scoffs teasingly at your nods and the desperation in your voice. Before bending over you to whisper in your ear.

“That’s my good girl,” he cooed, the praise washing over you before finally guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance. He paused just long enough to watch your body tremble in anticipation. Then, in one smooth thrust, he buried himself inside you.

A loud, utterly obscene moan tore from your throat as the sudden fullness stole the air from your lungs. Aerion could only hiss sharply through his teeth, at the tightness around his length.

“Fuck…” Your walls had clenched around him so fast, gripping him so tightly that it was taking him every ounce of restraint he possessed not to lose himself then and there.

For a brief moment, neither of you moved. You simply stayed there, impaled on him, your body struggling to adjust to his size while his fingers dug into your hips. Then he began to move.

Slowly at first.

Drawing almost all the way out before thrusting back into you with deliberate, measured strokes that only made your moans louder. You forced your eyes open, searching for Valarr once more. He was still seated in the velvet armchair.

Watching.

His eyes never leaving the two of you, every thrust reflected in his hungry gaze. But the bulge straining against his trousers, he was trying to conceal was impossible to ignore now. Whatever composure he had managed to hold onto was slipping.

Finally, he stood. Without taking his eyes off you, he began walking toward the bed. You fought to keep your eyes open despite the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you, desperate to see what Valarr was going to do next.

Your mouth fell open in a silent O, every breath catching in your throat. The position Aerion had bent you into was allowing every thrust to reach a place your own fingers had never been able to. You had thought he was already impossibly deep but it seems that you were wrong.

Without any warning, one of his hands slid to the small of your back, his touch surprisingly steady as he guided your body into an even deeper arch. Your spine curved instinctively beneath his palm creating an immediate new angle.

“Oh—fuck!” the broken gasp had escaped you before you could swallow it back. The cry came out higher than you intended, your fingers clutching at the sheets as your entire body reacted to the new position. It felt different. Much better, sharper and mostly deeper.

Every movement seemed to find the same spot again and again, leaving your legs trembling beneath you. Aerion noticed. A smug chuckle rumbled low in his chest as he watched the effect he was having on you, his grip tightening ever so slightly on your hips whenever your body threatened to give out beneath him.

The rhythmic slap of skin echoed through the room, accompanied by your uneven breaths and the shameless sounds neither of you made any attempt to hide.

It was so loud and obscene. The kind of noise that would have made you hide your face in embarrassment under any other circumstance. The same kind you could only hear in porn..

You were arching your back further, chasing him instinctively as his name spilled from your lips again and again, each repetition more breathless than the last. For those few moments, the rest of the room simply ceased to exist.

Even Valarr.

Because you didn’t notice him rising from the velvet armchair. Didn’t hear the quiet rustle of fabric as he approached.

Your entire world had narrowed to Aerion. To the sound of his breathing. To the weight and heat of his hands. To the way his eyes remained fixed on you, as though he were determined to memorize every expression crossing your face. It wasn’t until something warm brushed gently against your cheek that your thoughts finally broke apart.

You blinked, dazed.

Valarr was standing beside the bed now. Just infront of you, his expression was so cold and his jaw clenched as he looked down at you in complete silence, his gaze impossibly intent, studying you with the same quiet patience he always seemed to possess.

Then the corner of his mouth lifted into the faintest smile. Using the tip of his cock, he lightly traced the curve of your cheek before letting it linger against your lower lip.

Your lips parted instinctively. His smile widened by only a fraction before he slowly guided himself into the warmth of your waiting mouth, never breaking eye contact with you for a single second.

The feeling was so overwhelming.

If someone had told you, that you would end up like this—your lips wrapping around Valarr’s cock while Aerion’s hips drove into you from behind—you would have laughed in their face before promptly blocking them.

The scenario would have sounded utterly ridiculous and Impossible…

And yet…Here you were.

Reality had long since stopped making sense. You have decided to just enjoy the moment.

Your mind had now become a haze of broken thoughts and scattered sensations, each one bleeding into the next until you could no longer tell where one ended and another began.

Every breath that escaped your nose sent warm vibrations along Valarr’s length, drawing quiet groans from him that only encouraged you further. His fingers threaded through your hair with surprising restraint, never forcing you, merely guiding you as his eyes remained fixed on your face, unwilling to miss a single expression, while behind you, Aerion never once slowed.

His relentless thrusts rocking your entire body forward, making it nearly impossible to maintain any rhythm of your own. Every snap of his hips was stealing any other breath from your lungs, leaving your vision blurry as pleasure continued to build until it became almost unbearable.

Your fingers tightened around the rumpled sheets.

You couldn’t think. Couldn’t speak. At the moment you were just their little fuck toy.

It was getting hard to focus on anything except the overwhelming sensation of being surrounded by them.

It didn’t take many more muffled groans before Valarr’s composure finally cracked. He had been on the edge for what felt like an eternity, and his restraint had worn dangerously thin the past seconds. Watching you like this—completely fucked out, caught between the two of them, Every reaction and expressions unfolding right in front of him—proved to be the final push he needed.

Aerion had been sensing his own release drawing closer as well. But rather than losing control, he had managed to remain deliberate in his thrusts, determined to prolong the moment for as long as he could. What could he do? The moans coming from your lips, muffled by his cousin cock, and your pretty cunt keeping his cock so warm and so tight was one of the best feeling the blonde ever felt.

But he wanted you to cum with him, with them.

He reached between your bodies without breaking the steady rhythm of his movements, his hand finding your throbbing bud with a practiced ease. His touch was precise and unhurried, almost teasing, because he knew exactly how close you already were and intended to keep you suspended there just a little longer before allowing you to fall apart.

At last, the curtain of pleasure finally fell over you.

The orgasm crashed through your body with such force that it felt as though your mind had gone completely blank, every coherent thought melting away beneath wave after wave of overwhelming sensation.

Valarr finally came with a deep, restrained groan.

The warmth was filling your mouth as his body was gradually relaxing as well, his cock softening as he slowly withdrew from your mouth. For a brief moment, he simply looked down at you, his eyes searching yours with a quiet expectation. No need for him to say a word, because you knew what was expected of you, you knew what he wanted you to do.

And without any ounce of hesitation, you swallowed, your gaze never leaving his.

He granted you a small, satisfied smile as the praise came out

“So perfect…”

He gave a subtle nod of approval before adjusting his clothes with the same composed elegance he seemed to carry even after completely losing himself only moments earlier. Whereas Aerion’s breathing had grown even more uneven.

His groans had reached your ears in broken, breathless intervals before he finally buried himself as deeply as he could, releasing inside you with a sharp hiss through clenched teeth.

His movements slowed into lazy, lingering thrusts as he rode out the last of his pleasure and yours, his forehead resting briefly between your shoulder blades while he struggled to steady his breathing and regain composure. Before he started kissing your back gently like a devoted lover.

And you wish you could have stopped your heart from pounding that hard in your chest. Because this was going to end… and you didn’t want to. Your brief moment of thinking was interrupted by the feeling of his large hands drifting over your hips, his thumbs absentmindedly stroking the skin he had gripped so tightly moments before. As if he was feeling guilty.

The faint blue bruises had already begun to bloom beneath his fingertips but you barely noticed them. Or rather felt them.

The adrenaline and endorphins flooding your body dulled any hint of pain and that shit would come later. For now, all you felt was the exhaustion.

Your arms finally gave out beneath you. With a quiet, defeated sigh, you collapsed face-first onto the rumpled sheets, every muscle in your body refusing to obey another command.

You ached everywhere. But It was the pleasant sort of ache that only left you feeling impossibly heavy.

Aerion withdrew a moment later before letting himself fall onto the mattress beside you with a tired exhale. He lay there for a few seconds, simply watching you, the usual arrogance in his expression softened by something quieter. Perhaps it was the exhaustion that was playing with your senses but he almost look tender than usual.

“Such a good girl for us, huh?” His voice was little more than a murmur. “You did so good, baby.” His praise only filled you with this pleasant heat in your belly, Before the last thing you felt before sleep claimed you was the gentle press of Aerion’s lips against your forehead.

Then, with the warmth of his body beside yours, exhaustion finally won and darkness welcomed you into its embrace.

You woke to the dull throb of a splitting headache. Your eyes fixed on the unfamiliar ceiling above you, your thoughts sluggish, drifting in and out of consciousness as though your mind refused to fully wake. Your limbs and your eyelids felt so heavy. Even your breathing.

And the silence of the room was unsettling. Not a single sounds to be heard.. Only the faint crackle of a dying fire somewhere in the room and the rhythmic ticking of an antique but expensive clock.

You slowly pushed yourself upright. The movement sending another pulse of pain through your skull, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut.

“…Fuck. I’m never drinking again..” finally the dizziness finally settled and you were able to took in your surroundings. The room was huge. Like fucking huge.

Dark oak paneling covered the walls, interrupted only by shelves lined with leather-bound books and portraits whose painted eyes seemed almost alive in the morning light. Heavy crimson curtains framed floor-to-ceiling windows, allowing only thin ribbons of pale sunlight to spill across the polished wooden floor. A fireplace, large enough to warm an entire hall, occupied one side of the room, with its embers still glowing faintly.

Everywhere you looked, the dragons were watching you over the room. Aerion’s room probably you thought.

It was elegant. Perhaps a bit old for you, but it had potential. You finally noticed that your costume was gone. The orange wig had disappeared a long time ago and your makeup had been carefully washed away.

Someone had changed your clothes while you slept, dressing you in an oversized black shirt that smelled faintly of expensive cologne, and something unmistakably familiar. That confirmed once again where you were. You hissed and cursed when the lingering dull ache between your legs started to hit you and when you noticed the bruises beginning to bloom across your hips.

What kind of marking was that??

The soreness that settled into every muscle whenever you shifted. None of it had been a dream. The memories returned with a merciless clarity. The party. The Ghostface mask. You almost cursed your past-self for not asking them to keep the mask on while they were fucking you…perhaps for another time then?

And… that is also when you remembered Irina. And you surprised your own self because you actually don’t really cared about her like she wasn’t that kind anyway so..

Your gaze wandered across the room again, searching for anything familiar. Your phone was resting neatly on the bedside table, placed there with almost unsettling care.

They had probably wanted you to find it. They knew you wouldn’t say anything. You reached for it and the screen lit up instantly. Twenty-four missed calls and every single one were coming from Syra. Several unread messages following.

Babe where tf are you?

Please answer.

I’m so worried please just tell me you are fine..

A sharp pang of guilt settled in your chest. She must have spent the entire night searching for you. Your fingers moved before your thoughts caught up. You quickly wrote an apology telling her you would explain everything later.

Your eyes then wandered to another notification sliding across your screen.

Breaking News.

Your thumb hovered above it. You already knew what was coming

Still…

You tapped the notification and the red headline filled your screen.

IRINA LANNISTER FOUND BRUTALLY MURDERED IN HER BEDROOM DURING HER OWN HALLOWEEN PARTY.

Your heart was pounding so fast. It was real, it had happened. It wasn’t a stupid scenario you had made under the influence of alcohol.

You kept reading.

According to investigators, the victim had likely been separated from the other guests sometime during the evening. Witnesses reported hearing nothing unusual over the deafening music. Police believed the murder had taken place only a short distance away from hundreds of partygoers.

The killer had vanished without leaving any obvious trace. The article continued beneath the headline. The police had already detained Tybolt for questioning after multiple witnesses claimed they had seen him arguing with Irina earlier that night.

An obvious suspect and very convenient.

You let out a hollow laugh. It almost sounded hysterical. They had no idea.

Not just one but two killers actually.

Two guy whose family basically owned the country. No one would ever suspect them. Or rather who would dare to accuse the Targaryens anyway?

Your eyes wandered for another notification but nothing. Not even a threat from the boys.. as if they knew that you would hold your tongue. And they were right indeed because you had never seriously considered going to the police.

You held no proofs against them, it was your word against theirs. And how would you explain to the officers that you were getting fucked by the killers while the victim was agonizing beside you?

For the first time since waking, you realized something far more frightening than the murders themselves. You had walked into their trap and they had allowed you to walk back out. So why were you considering walking right back in?

A:n : sooo there will be a bonus because I think this ending is sooo shitty! Anyway I hope you guys liked it <33

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I think that is all? If I forgot someone I’m so sorry :((