MY WORLD

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 𝗢𝟭 ⠀ᰋ TWENTY. MASTERLIST

REQUESTS OPEN!

( tt!DAERON TARGARYEN X READER )

☆ ──꒰summary꒱ ❞ you—poor sweet eighteen year old southern belle— got knocked up by an absolute loser. after a big fight with said loser, he offers to calm your spirit with a little… oral care.

contains! Daeron being an alcoholic LOSER, oral (f receiving), fingering, established relationship, Daeron loves to eat pussy.

requested material ❤︎⁠

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 𝗢 ⠀ᰋ the heat clung to your skin like a wet wool blanket, thick and humid and smelling of pine needles and road dust. Daeron steered his beat-up pickup, the tires crunching loudly over the gravel lot. he killed the engine and the silence that rushed in to fill the space that was previously taken by the rumbling engine was heavy, broken only by the ticking of the cooling metal. you sat rigid beside him in the passenger seat, hands folded over the growing bump that was your stomach, your floral dress pristine, a stark contrast to the ugly and cracked leather seat that you sat on.

Daeron stumbled out of the drivers seat, his movements loose and swaying. he smelled of cheap beer and old sweat. he rounded the truck and opened the passenger door, leaning heavily on the frame. “well, uh. we’re here,” he said, picking up his arm and dropping it back down to his side with a heavy slap as if to enunciate the arrival.

you stepped out, eyes widening as you took in the tin-can that was his trailer. overgrown weeds choked the porch steps and a discarded deck chair lay half sunken into the mud nearby. you followed him inside, and the smell hit you instantly: cigarettes, wet dog, and the sharp, sour tang of spilled beer.

“oh my god…” you whispered, clutching your small suitcase to your side, “Daeron, there are cans… everywhere. is that laundry in the sink?”

Daeron chuckled and kicked a crumpled can across the linoleum, pushing it out of the way. “s’just a little clutter, don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

“clutter? this is filth!” your voice rose, polished southern accent sharpening. “i can’t stay here. i can’t bring a baby into this! my mother would have a heart attack if she saw this floor!”

Daeron swayed on his feet, blinking slowly. god, he was drunk again. he reached out to touch your shoulder, but his hand drifted, grazing your cheek instead. “you’re real… pretty when you’re fussin’. just relax. i’ll clean it. someday.”

you stepped back, face crimson with anger. the frustration you had been bottling up since your daddy had pointed towards the door and told you to never return finally boiled over. you slammed your suitcase on the ground with a loud thunk. “someday? that’s your answer for everything! someday i’ll get a job. someday i’ll stop drinking. you’re a no-good alcoholic loser, Daeron!”

his expression flattened. he leaned against the wall, his eyes half closed. “now you’re just bein’ mean, sweetpea.”

“mean? i’m eighteen years old! i was supposed to go to college! i was supposed to be in a dorm, not in some tin-can in the middle of nowhere!” you screamed, voice cracking, “and why? because i let you talk me into this! because you knocked me up and now i have nowhere else to go!”

he stared at you, but didn’t argue. it wasn’t that he thought you were right, it was because he didn’t even seem to hear the weight of your words. he just looked at the curve of your hips beneath the floral fabric. “you’re just stressed… you need to unwind, baby.”

“i don’t want to unwind! i want a father for my child that doesn’t smell like a bar!”

Daeron moved then, surprisingly quick for a man in his condition. he lunged forward, grabbing your waist and pulling you flush against him. you gasped, hands landing on his chest, feeling the heat of his skin through his thin white tee. he smelled of musk and alcohol, a heavy, masculine scent that, paired with the feeling of his firm, warm body that you had grown so fond of in the early days of seeing each other, seemed to dull your anger.

“shut up,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, “jus’…shut up for a minute.” he pushed you back onto the couch that was draped with an old jacket, the springs groaning under your weight. you tried desperately to ignore the thought of the things that had happened and spilled on that couch. you tried to push him away, but your movements were weak, and your resolve was crumbling by the second. he didn’t kiss your mouth, instead, he slid down your body, his weight pressing you into the cushions.

“Daeron, stop it. i’m still mad at you,” you stated, trying to sound stern, though you arched your back as his hands slid up the bottom of your dress.

“i’ll make it… make it up to you,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your thigh as he buried his face into your clothed leg. he hiked the floral fabric up to your waist, exposing your creamy thighs and the white cotton of your panties. he didn’t waste time. he hooked his fingers into the elastic and tugged them down, tossing them onto the dirty floor. you shivered, the suddenly cool air hitting your wetness.

Daeron groaned at the sight of your naked cunt, an animalistic sound in the back of his throat. he spread your legs wide, his rough palms gripping your inner thighs, pushing them up towards your chest. he stared at your pussy, the swollen lips glistening with a thick layer of arousal. the scent of you—sweet and muskily feminine cloyed his brain.

he leaned in, using his thumbs to pull apart the sticky folds of your pussy so that he could lick at your clit. you sucked a jagged intake of breath through your teeth, fingers digging into the upholstery. he buried his face in you, his tongue broad and wet, licking from the bottom of your opening all the way up to the hood of your clit in one long, slow stroke. he could taste the salt and sweetness of you, your pregnancy making you slicker than he had ever known you as—and he had known you many times before. he began to lap at you aggressively, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, sucking it into his mouth with a wet sound.

the sound filled the tiny room as he worked his tongue deep inside you, sliding in and out of your tight opening. he pressed his face even harder against you, nose nudging against your clit as he fucked your weeping hole with his tongue. your hips began to buck and your breath started to come in short gasps.

“i’m- i’m almost-” you grabbed at your own breast, kneading the sensitive flesh, craving the end of the edge that Daeron was helping you chase.

he didn’t even notice your pleasured sobs. his drunkenness seemed to manifest into a singular, obsessive drive. he used his teeth, grazing your labia before returning to your clit with a rapid flutter of his tongue. he sucked the small pearl hard, drawing the juices out of you. he could feel your muscles pulsing against his mouth, the walls of your pussy clamping down on nothing.

he shifted his position, sliding one finger deep inside you as his tongue continued its relentless abuse on your clit. he felt the heat of you, the way your cunt felt softer and more welcoming. he pushed his finger to the last knuckle, the wet friction creating a sloppy squelch. “you’re so wet…” he mused against your skin, “so damn wet for me.”

your voice was gone, replaced only by a whine. you felt the tension in your lower belly, a tightening knot that became more precarious with each flick of his tongue. you gripped his hair, pulling him closer, wanting more, the pleasure getting white hot.

your body suddenly stiffened, back arching off the sofa. “i’m- i’m cumming-!”

you exploded, muscles clamping down on his finger, a gush of hot, creamy fluid spilling over his lips and chin, the scent of your orgasm filling his nose and travelling to his head like a drug. he didn’t pull away. he stayed there, licking every drop of your release from your oversensitive pussy.

as the tremors subsided, you sank back into the couch, chest heaving. Daeron pulled back, his face a shiny mix of spit and your juices. he looked up at you with a lazy smile that suggested he gained just as much pleasure from this act as you did. he didn’t say anything, but you knew what he wanted to: see? i was right. i did make you feel better.

you touched his cheek and allowed him to fix your dress, ignoring the discarded pair of underwear on the ground, and inch towards where you sat on the couch. he put his head on your lap, blonde hair a mess, and closed his eyes.

☆ ──꒰summary꒱ ❞ after messing up the days that you’re supposed to come over and tutor egg, you run into his older brother and get a lesson of your own.

contains! dubcon, p in v, name calling (kind of), creampie!

requested material! ❤︎⁠

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 𝗢 ⠀ᰋ Aegon was a good kid—a handful? yes—but a good kid. that’s why you made the ridiculously long drive out to his family’s manor every tuesday and friday to tutor him. you gripped the leather strap of your book bag and pressed the buzzer.

a minute passed while you waited on the porch of the Targaryen manor, a sprawling piece of property that probably cost the price of your apartment three million times over. you considered ringing again, but the door swung open with a sudden jerk. a man that you didn’t recognize stood there, his hand on the doorframe as if to block you from entering. He looked to be in a few years older than you at most, and had the same, strikingly white hair that the boy you tutored did. he wore a linen shirt that was no doubt expensive, unbuttoned half-way, revealing the smooth plane of his chest and the thin gold chain that rested there.

“can i help you?” he asked, his tone bored.

“oh, um, i’m Aegon’s tutor? i’m here for… to tutor him.” you said, offering a smile in an attempt to cover up the horrifically awkwardly put statement that had just fallen from your lips.

he had a sharp, predatory look in his eyes as he gave you a lazy once-over, moving slowly from your black flats up to your modest pink cardigan, lingering on your tits before returning back to your eyes. “Aegon’s not here, sweetheart. neither is my father. he decided to shave a stripe in the middle of his head, so they’re off to get him a proper haircut. and hopefully a nice hat.”

“do you know when they’ll be back? i have my tuesday lesson with Aegon today… it’s supposed to start at 2:30.” you asked.

“it’s wednesday. you’re a day late.”

you gasped, your face flushing. “oh no. i am so sorry. i don’t know why i thought it was tuesday. i’ll just… um… i’ll just go. im really sorry for bothering you.”

“come inside. i’m sure my father will be willing to compensate you for your trip out here, he’s a very generous man.”

“i really should just head home,” you stammered, but you didn’t move.

“don’t be a bore. they’ll be back in an hour or two. come in, have a drink. unless you’re scared of having a little human conversation.”

you hesitated, then stepped inside. the interior of the manor smelled of old mahogany and one of those expensive tobacco candles. you’d been inside countless times, but you still weren’t used to the sheer opulence of the house. he lead you to a dimly lit drawing room, the heavy curtains shutting out the midday sun. he didn’t offer you a seat.

“so, you’re the one that’s been teaching my baby brother. he never was that bright… he was always falling off things as a child— maybe it got to him.” he laughed to himself, it wasn’t even that funny. he stopped behind you, leaning in close, his breath warm against the nape of your neck. “you’re shaking. why are you shaking? i’m just a guy.”

“i’m just a bit nervous. i’ve never really met any of the adults in the house aside from your father.” you bleated. even your interactions with Maekar were brief, purely transactional. “are you Aerion?” you asked. it was the only name that you had heard from Aegon, aside from the alcoholic brother he often complained about, but this silver haired man seemed to be perfectly sober, so you decided to stick with the former.

“yes, i am. i’m sure my brother has told you some… stories. i’m not exactly a pillar of society, but i can assure you that i’m not as bad as he says.” he reached out, fingers grazing the skin of your shoulder and sliding down your arm. “but enough about me. on to you. you’re so sweet. so innocent. i bet you’ve never had a man really take what he wants from you.”

you shivered at the words, a mix of fear and a sudden, traitorous spark of heat blooming deep on your gut. “i don’t know what you mean.”

“i think you do. i can see it in the way you’re looking at me. you’re scared, but you’re curious.” he moved in front of you, his presence overwhelming. “tell me. do you like being a good girl? does it ever get exhausting being so perfect?”

“it’s not exhausting.” you whispered, unsure of what he really wanted you to reply with.

“liar.” his hand shot out and gripped your waist, pulling you against him. “i can practically smell the arousal on you.”

“Aerion, please, i should go.” you gasped, though you didn’t push him away.

“oh, shut up,” he commanded, his voice suddenly harsh, gravelly. he crashed his lips into yours, the kiss aggressive and demanding, like he was trying to steal something away from you. he tasted of mint. his tongue forced its way into your mouth, sucking on yours with a crude intensity that left you breathless. you let out a muffled moan, head swimming with a lusty sort of confusion.

Aerion pulled back, his face still inches from yours, eyes dark. he grabbed the hem of your dress and yanked it upwards, bunching the fabric around your waist. he didn’t bother with your underwear, simply pushing them to the side so that he could slide a hand between your thighs. he found your clit instantly, rubbing it with a rough pace.

“soaking wet for me…” he whistled, pulling his hand away for a few moments to admire the slick coating his fingers. “little tutor with a dripping pussy. how scandalous.”

“please… oh god,” your knees buckled.

he didn’t waste time. he unzipped his pants, his thick, rigid cock springing free. it was heavy, a vein running down the middle, the head already glistening with a bead of precum. he grabbed your hips, lifting you to sit you down on a table.

“open your legs wider you little slut,” he barked.

you obeyed, legs splayed as he positioned himself. he slid his cock in, the stretch overwhelming as he buried himself to the hilt.

Aerion didn’t give you time to adjust. he began to pump into you with a violent, rhythmic aggression. each thrust was deep, his pelvis slapping against your ass with a meaty sound. the friction created a loud, wet noise as his cock slid through the cream of your sticky cunt, the sound filling the room. “you like that?” he groaned, “you like feeling my cock stretching you open? fuck, bet i’m bigger than anything else you’ve ever felt…” his own words seemed to get him off.

“it’s… it’s too much,” you whined, hoping to urge him on further, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him even deeper.

his movements became erratic, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. he reached up to push your dress up even further, moving it up and over your breasts, pushing your bra aside so that he could grope at your tits. he squeezed them hard, then rubbed at your nipples, grinning while he watched them harden from his touch. he shifted his angle, hitting you even deeper, nudging against your cervix with a force that made your vision blur.

“i’m gonna-” he groaned, bending over to kiss you, hungrily licking into your mouth, “gonna fill you up,” he whispered int the crook of your neck. “gonna leave a mark in you.”

the slap of skin on skin peaked to a relentless pace, the walls of your cunt quivering, pulsing around you, milking him with every stroke. you felt the tension build, a coil tightening in your gut until it snapped. you cried out, body shaking in the throes of a messy orgasm.

Aerion let out a guttural roar, his body stiffening. he thrust one last time, burying himself deep and unloading a thick, hot torrent of cum inside you. you could feel the head of it pulsing against your cervix and filling you up.

he stayed inside for a moment, breathing heavily, the scent of sex and sweat sticky on his skin. slowly, he slid out, a flood of cum flooding along with his cock. he stepped back, adjusting his clothes with a cold indifference. he looked at you trembling on the table, cum leaking down your thighs, dress hiked up awkwardly.

“you can go now.” he simply said, his voice returning to that casual tone when you had first rang the doorbell. “and don’t miss Aegon’s next session, he seems to like you.”

୨୧ AERION TARGARYEN

“I SWEAR” aerion doesn’t wanna use a condom… but he promised he’d pull out!

“LESSONS” after messing up the days that you’re supposed to come over and tutor egg, you run into his older brother and get a lesson of your own.

୨୧ DAERON TARGARYEN

“TEACHER OF THE HEART” you’re getting married! but you still haven’t learned how to properly please a man… luckily, your sweet big brother has offered to teach you!

( DAERON TARGARYEN X READER )

☆ ──꒰summary꒱ ❞ you are to be wed in a weeks time, but you haven’t the slightest clue as to how to please a man? you’re lucky that your dear brother has offered to show you!

contains! targcest, virgin!reader, oral (m receiving), p in v, reader being kind of a dumbass.

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 𝗢 ⠀ᰋ the scent of sandalwood and alcohol filled Daeron’s bedchambers, but all you could smell was your own panic. you paced the length of the rug, the hem of your gown whispering against the ground. in a mere seven days, the entirety of your body and soul would belong to a too-old Lord that you only knew of through tales passed about by other people’s lips. the thought made your stomach churn.

“you’ll pace a hole in that carpet,” Daeron said, leaning back lazily in his velvet-backed chair. he watched you with a lazy, feline intensity.

you stopped and looked at him, your eyes wide and clouded with confusion, “i don’t know how to… how to be someone’s wife? i do not know what to talk about, i do not know how to act, i do not know anything! Daeron, how will i ever survive there?” the words tumbled out of your lips in a stupid jumble.

Daeron stood slowly, putting a chalice of mead down on a nearby table, his taller frame casting a shadow over you in the flickering candlelight. “men are simple creatures, sweet sister. they want a few specific things: a woman with warmth, beauty, and a nice wet cunt.”

the latter made you blush a deep red, the colour flooding your face hotly. you had never been with a man like that, and Daeron seemed to pick up on that fact.

“have you truly never been to bed yet?” he asked rhetorically, a little laugh falling from his mouth, “you haven’t even been with that…” he searched for the words, “that knight fellow? the one with the black hair?”

you shook your head timidly. Daeron just laughed and stepped towards you, “well you should know. your husband will expect you to know how to please a man of his standing.” he reached out to slide his hand over the thin fabric of your bodice. his palm was hot against your ribs. “you’re trembling. are you afraid of me?”

“no,” you whispered, your chest heaving, “i’m just… i’ve never been touched like this.”

“that’s the problem. you’re a blank canvas, and this husband of yours will expect a finished portrait.” Daeron’s fingers brushed the underside of your breast, circling the nipple through the flimsy linen. “it would be a cruelty to let you enter that marriage ignorant. as your brother, it’s my duty to ensure that you’re… educated well enough.”

you blinked, your lips parting, “you can teach me?”

“i can do far more than teach you. i can show you how a man’s body works.” he gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him. you gasped, feeling something hard and thick pressing against your belly through the both of your clothes. “do you feel that, sister? that is a cock. it is the centre of a man’s world, the dictator of all his decisions and desires. when it is hard like this, it wants only one thing: to be inside something tight and wet.”

“is it always that hard?”

Daeron chuckled, “only when we’re thinking of something we desire. right now, i’m thinking of you.” he guided you towards the bed, pushing you back until you fell against the expensive silks and furs. with a swift motion he stripped away your gown—it made you wonder how many times he had done the same to other women—he followed suit, shedding his clothes until he stood before you, his cock thick and erect.

you stared at it, your eyes tracing the vein that ran along the length of the shaft, the glistening bead of precum at the tip. “it’s so… large. it looks like it would hurt!”

“it might at first,” Daeron said, crawling over you, his weight pinning your thighs open, “but the pain will give way to something much better. now, first lesson. use your mouth. taste me.”

you obeyed tentatively, leaning forward. you licked the head of his cock, the taste salty and masculine.

“more,” he commanded, “wrap your lips around it. suck.”

you opened your mouth wide, sliding your lips over the tip. you gagged slightly as he pushed deeper, his cock hitting the back of your throat. the sound of your wet, sloppy sucking filled the room, your saliva coating the shaft. Daeron groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair, fucking your throat. “yes, just like that, you’re a natural.” he hissed.

he pulled away abruptly, the sound a wet pop echoing in the sudden silence. he shifted, positioning himself between your legs. he reached down and slid two fingers into your pussy. you jumped, a sharp gasp escaping you. “you’re so tight,” Daeron noted, his voice raspy, “and so wet. look at how you leak for your brother.”

“i feel… strange,” you whimpered, your hips instinctively arching into his hand, “it feels like i’m itching on the inside.”

“that’s desire… now, watch.” he guided his cock to your opening, the broad head rubbing against your clit. he pushed slowly, the friction creating a wet sound. you cried out, your hands finding his shoulders and digging into them as he breached your maidenhead.

your body shook at the loss of your virginity, “stop! it hurts!” you cried out, your face flushing.

“stay still, breathe through it,” he instructed, pausing. he waited for you to relax, then gave a sudden, powerful thrust. the sound was visceral: a wet, heavy thud as he buried himself to the hilt. you gasped, a mixture of pain and shock, your body shuddering. he stayed there for a moment, fully sheathed inside you, the scent of sex and blood rising between you. “see?” he said, leaning down to give you a whisper of a kiss on your neck, “the worst is over. now comes the pleasure.”

he began to move, pulling back until only the tip remained before slamming himself back in. the sound of your skin colliding became a steady rhythm. your initial pain began to dissolve into a blurring heat, you felt the friction of his cock sliding against your walls, the way his balls slapped against your ass with every heavy stroke.

“does it feel good, sister?”

“yes! oh, gods… yes,” you cried, voice high and needy.

“that’s it,” he watched your face, your eyebrows knitting together as the pleasure began to build. “now grip me, squeeze your muscles around me,” he instructed, “your husband will expect it of you.”

he shifted his angle, hitting your cervix with a blunt force that made your fingers dig deeper into your brothers shoulders. he was moving frantically now, chasing his own orgasm, the friction creating a mix of slick and precum that frothed around where you met.

you began to shake, your pleasure reaching its height, and Daeron noticed: “cum for me, sister, let it all go, relax.” he groaned.

you shivered violently, your internal muscles clamping down on him in waves. the sensation triggered him, and he let out a deep groan, thrusting one last time with everything he had. he surged deep inside of you, his cock pulsing as he shot thick, hot ropes of cum against your cervix.

you felt the warmth flooding you, a heavy, filling sensation that made you feel as if you had completed something great. Daeron collapsed on top of you, his skin slick with sweat, just the same as yours.

he pulled out slowly, the sound of the exit a wet, sucking pop. a mixture of blood and cum leaked out of your cunt, staining the dark furs beneath you. you looked up at him, tired but blissful, “will my husband be like that?”

Daeron smiled, rubbing his hand over your thigh, “probably not. but you know that your dear brother will bring you the pleasure you need.”

☆ ──꒰summary꒱ ❞ trailer trash!Aerion convinces you to let him fuck you without a condom on— he promises on his mamas grave that he’ll pull out! why wouldn’t you trust him?

contains! dubcon/coercion, unsafe sex, aerion is a meanie

authors note: let me know if there are any spelling errors…! inspired by @louloucake’s tt!aerion series!

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 𝗢 ⠀ᰋ the air inside of Aerion’s trailer tasted like stale cigarettes and grease. a rusted fan rattled in the corner, doing a pathetic job of cutting through the oppressive heat of the summer evening. you sat on the edge of his stained mattress, your floral sunday dress bunched around your hips, your knuckles white as you gripped the cheap, yellowing sheets. you don’t even know how you had gotten to this point: discussing sex with Aerion (of all people!) despite the fact that you had sworn to both your poor mama and the heavenly lord that you’d save your body for marriage.

Aerion loomed over you, his shirtless chest glistening with a thin film of sweat. he smelled of diesel and musk—all that time under his beat up pickup certainly showed. he reached down, his rough hand grabbing at your face and holding it so that your cheeks squished together, forcing you to look up into his narrow, predatory eyes.

“stop lookin’ so nervous, girl.” he drawled. “those things mess with the feeling anyways. you want me to feel every inch of that tight little pussy, don’t ya? and i reckon you wanna feel me deep inside you, real raw.”

“but… what if i get pr—”

Aerion stopped your sentence with a sharp tch. “hush now. i promise i’ll pull out. i ain’t trying to tie myself to some… church mouse like you.” he sneered, his grip tightening. “now, you gonna be a good little girl and let me have my way, or are you gonna keep on whinin’ like a bitch?” he emphasized his point by roughly pulling his hand away from your face

you swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. you looked at him, searching for a sign of kindness that you had somehow convinced yourself lived beneath all that aggression. “you promise?” you said, “you’ll pull out?”

“i swear on my mama’s grave.” he said, making a little mock-prayer motion before pushing you onto your back, the mattress groaning. he yanked your dress up and pulled your panties down with a violent tug. he didn’t waste any time with tenderness—that just wasn’t the kind of man that Aerion was—he spat into his palm and gave his cock a few half-hearted pumps to slicken himself up.

“look at you…” his eyes roamed over your half covered body like he was taking in every single detail of your nakedness and cataloguing it for later, “all holy and pure, and here you are, spread out for a piece of shit like me.” he grinned, “you’re just a little slut in her sunday best, aren’t you?”

you blushed a deep red, opening your mouth to chirp out a shaky plea: “please don’t call me that…”

“i’ll call you whatever the hell i want, girl.”

he lined himself up and drove into you with a brutal thrust. you gasped, your back arching in a mix of pain and pleasure at the sudden stretch of his thick cock. Aerion began to hammer into you, his hips slapping against you, the friction creating an intense and searing heat within you.

“god, you’re fuckin’ tight,” he groaned, his pace quickening, “squeezin’ me like a goddamned vice… does god know how much you love this? does he know how wet your pussy is for me?” he laughed, watching himself disappear into your dripping cunt over and over.

“Aerion, please…” you begged, your voice quivering.

“just shut up and take it,” he barked, his movements becoming more frantic.

the wet sound of your bodies colliding filled the small room; a pornographic symphony as he pistoned deeper and deeper into the depths of your holy cunt, stretching you out. your breath came in ragged hitches, your fingers digging into the mattress. you felt the raw skin of his shaft sliding deliciously against your sensitive walls, the sensation overwhelming and terrifying all at once.

Aerion’s breathing turned into heavy grunts. he gripped the soft flesh of your hips, his fingers bruising your skin as he gripped you tight, accelerating to an almost animalistic pace. he was bottoming out, his balls slapping against your ass with every shove. “i’m close, sugar… i’m right there,” he choked out.

you panicked, the reality of the situation rushing back to you through your haze of lusty intertwinings. you tried to shift your weight, pushing against his chest, “pull out, Aerion, you’ve gotta pull out!”

he didn’t move. instead, he surged forward, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand and burying himself to the hilt. he let out a loud, guttural moan as his body stiffened. you felt a hot, sudden explosion of his cum hitting your cervix, wave after wave of thick fluid pumping deep inside of you.

he didn’t pull away. he stayed buried within you, his chest heaving, letting the heat of his seed fill you, like he was trying to make sure it stuck.

you lay there, your eyes wide and watering. “you… you didn’t pull out,” you whispered, “you promised.”

Aerion slowly withdrew, a string of his cum and your slick stretching between you before snapping. he looked down at you, his expression devoid of guilt, he wore nothing but a smug , almost triumphant grin on his face. “well, i reckon i changed my mind,” he said, reaching for a cigarette from the pack on the side table, “now you’ve got a little piece of me inside you, sweet thing.”