lilith

Super Needy! Aerion Targaryen

You belong to him. He may not admit it but he craves your attention and affection. 

Aerion wants your eyes on him at all times and when he can’t have that, he’ll be pestering you with his hands climbing up your skirts or even pinching your sides. He likes to scare people, Lords and Ladies alike but there’s some people he can’t simply scowl at and send away, like his family. So his hands up your skirts at dinners will have to suffice. 

He’s never going to admit how fond he is of you, how he likes the way your nails graze his scalp or your fingers lightly trailing over the palm of his hand. But he’ll never shy away from it, clearly happy for anyone to see how much you dote on him. 

He’s a dragon, what would he need to be embarrassed about. 

When he’s out training in the court yard, or away at tourneys, he’d expect you to be there with him. He might not tell you in words but he’ll search for your face within the crowds and smirk when he notices you there. 

How do you know all of this? Well there are the times where you may have not paid him the attention he feels like you should have. 

Those days of not having you around end up in nights that leave you battered and bruised. 

Blood shot eyes, soaked cheeks and nasty red hand prints all over your ass cheek. Aerion would have you begging for mercy with his cock hitting the back of your throat. You can barely breathe yet you try your hardest to mumble out apologies. 

Aerion would want to take pity on you. He really does. But you should have really known better. 

He’s teaching you a lesson, watching you choke on him. He doesn’t let up either, not until his balls feel sufficiently drained. Even then he’ll have you bent over the nearest table, rutting into you like your some brood mare that needs to be punished. 

He’s satisfied when you’ve stopped talking all together. All that’s left of you is shaky breaths and tears that make a small puddle on the table. Then he’s all forgiving, yanking you into his arms and telling you that he knows “you didn’t mean it” and how he knows “you’ll do better” for him next time. 

He’ll let you sleep then, brushing your wet cheeks with his fingers and saying how much he knows you love him. 

Very Needy! Daeron Targaryen 

This man drowns himself in a bottle trying to push down his feelings for you. He’s embarrassed not of you but himself and the way he genuinely desperately needs you. 

It all comes out at once in a drunken needy kiss when he has you alone in the gardens and he completely forgets himself. From then on forward, he’s truly screwed. 

He’ll try and play the dutiful prince, not wanting to seem that pathetic in front of his father but his hands will search for yours under tables. He will literally let out a sigh of relief when you touch him, rubbing your finger along the back of his hand to give him reassurance. 

When he’s drunk, he’s more careless. He’ll nuzzle his face into your neck and practically beg you to stroke his cheek like the good pet he is. People may be looking but he’s too drunk to care what they think. 

And when he thinks you’re not paying enough attention to him, he’ll take your hand under the table, placing it on top of his hard cock and grind into it. All tinted cheeks and glazed over eyes as he groans into the feel of you through his breeches. 

The worse is when you completely forget him, off to do your own duties instead of being with him. Then he’d find you, it doesn’t truly matter where you are. He’ll snatch you way into the closest room and have you either tossed over the furniture or lying on the floor, his head burying itself beneath your skirts. 

You had only been without him a few hours but this man would eat at your cunt like a man starved. He’d take it slow, from kissing all over your thighs to then lapping at your folds with his tongue like he was the one that needed to apologise. 

He’d look up at you with those wet puppy eyes begging for your forgiveness, trying to get you to tell him what he did wrong. 

He would pull orgasms out of you like it was nothing, not finished until his face was dripping in your juices and you were crying from the overstimulation. 

When he does calm down, he’s deeply buried into your walls, pulling you on top of him as you tell him how sorry you are and how you’ll never do this again. He’d sleep with his mouth on your neck, your body caged underneath him like at any moment you’d slip away. But you knew better than to face the consequences of leaving him. 

Needy? Valarr Targaryen 

Valarr doesn’t scream needy to me. In fact, he likes it the other way round. 

You may have never initially wanted Valarr before but he’ll be sure to turn you into a desperate brat screaming for his attention. 

He’s a prince. In line to inherit the throne after his father, he simply can’t be seen as needy. But having a needy wife that is wrapped around his finger. This man’s dream.

How did he manage such a thing? Fear is his best tactic. The idea that being without him simply wasn’t a life worth living. Making him your lifeline and cutting out everyone else. 

You paid attention to that suitor at the banquet, the one that was found with flies swarming his body in the Godswood. Or the one who asked for your favour at the tourney, the same one that ends up screaming with Valarr’s lance buried in his shoulder. 

He’ll make sure you fear what lurks around the corner when he’s not around. He’d make himself your knight in shining armour. 

He won’t need to beg for your attention then. You’ll always be beside him, curling up beside him at banquets or watching beside his father at tourneys. You’d even beg him to let you sit in council meetings but it never works, so you'll listen to him and to sit pretty in your chambers for when he’s finished. 

It’s simple really. 

All of that just to coo at you when you crawl into his lap after a long day, peppering his face and neck with kisses. Only for him to tell you he’s tired and tell you if you're a good girl and stay still all night with his cock buried inside you, he might be kind enough to reward you when morning comes. 

But it’s too hard with him cockwarming you. You’ve been craving him all day and the feel of him inside you isn’t enough. Would he really notice if you wriggle slightly around or if you touched yourself a little bit? 

He would and he wouldn’t be so kind in the morning. He’d take his sweet time spreading you out on the bed, delivering torturously slow strokes that have you clawing at the sheets underneath you, toes curling and that feeling growing in your stomach. Only he’d stop when he could feel you close, taking it all away. Bad girls don’t get to be satisfied. 

Valarr would spend the morning ruining you. Making you almost reach climax again, and again, and again until you’re whimpering at him to give you some sort of mercy. He’d leave you empty then, watch how all day you’ll practically claw at him like some needy cat, whining at how much it hurts, at how badly you need him to touch you. 

Then when night finally comes around he’d have you all over again, fucking you thoroughly until you’re overstimulated and a mess. Until you’ve cum so much, you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to come again. Then, and only then, would he be satisfied.

divider by @ sweetshuga