MY WORLD

I AM PUNISHED BY LOVE

[eroticanas]

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍೯

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 𝗢𝟭 ⠀ᰋ TWENTY. MASTERLIST

REQUESTS OPEN!

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 𝗢2 ⠀ᰋ this blog contains problematic and dark topics such as dubcon, noncon, and incest. requests or anything else in my inbox is welcome. stay safe and stay freaky babes!

[eroticanas]

you’re in an unhappy marriage with your lord husband, but your brother daeron is there to deliver the pleasure you need as promised ;)

(may or may not be a continuation to the other fic!) love the way you write btw <3

“look at you,” Daeron murmured, “soaking wet for your own brother.” you were, and you had been for so long, waiting patiently for your brother to galavant to the vast estate you had been imprisoned in, forced to live with that wretched beast you had to call your husband.

you let out a whimpering sob, your legs shaking with anticipation. he dove between your legs, his face pressing into your heat. he groaned at the scent of you; a musk of honey and arousal. his tongue lashed out in a broad, wet stroke that started at your perineum and swept upward, coating your cunt in saliva.

you whined, hips bucking off the cushions. “shh,” he mumbled into your skin, “just take it.” he focused his attention on your clit, swirling his tongue in tight, relentless circles. he sucked the swollen pearl of your clitoris into his mouth, pulling hard. your fingers clawed at the upholstery of the chaise he had pushed you back onto, your breath coming out in pathetic whimpers. “oh! gods, Daeron!”

“does your lord do this?” he asked, pulling back for a second, a glistening string of your slick stretching between his lips and your wet folds. “does he eat you like this?”

“no! no, he doesn’t!”

satisfied by your answer, Daeron smirked and dove back in. he used his fingers to spread your lips wide, exposing the deep pink of your interior. he began to lap at you with rhythmic, squelching thrusts of his tongue, as if mimicking a cock. he pushed deep inside you, his tongue licking at the soft, spongy part of your pussy that made your head spin.

your body stiffened. your toes curled and your back arched in a violent spasm. you cried out as your orgasm washed over your body. he didn’t stop, sucking the juices from you as you shuddered under him.

finally, he pulled away slowly, licking his lips with a satisfied expression. “there,” he whispered, “now you can go back to being a dutiful wife.”

[eroticanas]

Hi! Could you please write anything involving Maekar x Reader?

yes! here it is! i lowkey had trouble characterizing him… my bad….

[eroticanas]

☆ ──꒰✉️꒱ ❞ ‧₊˚ “ BOTHERSOME ”

( MAEKAR TARGARYEN X READER )

☆ ──꒰summary꒱ ❞ your husband, prince Maekar, is such a stern man, he never has time for you! so, you bother him until he makes time for you.

contains! age gap, teasing, established relationship.

requested material ❤︎⁠

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 𝗢 ⠀ᰋ the scent of old parchment and stale incense filled the room— the scent of boredom, you thought. you leaned over the heavy oak desk, the swell of your breasts exposed by your low dipping bodice. the servants had all gossiped about that dress; they bet on how long it would take for your chest to fall straight out of it (until midday or would you make it until the evening?) Maekar had it commissioned two months ago at your request, and it had finally arrived this morning.

“is the grain tax truly more captivating than your wife, Maekar?” you pouted, moving around the desk so that you could sit yourself right in the middle of his work.

Maekar didn’t look up, stubbornly staring at your skirts. “the grain tax prevents famine, your whims do not. move”

you sighed loudly, “i feel a famine of my own…” you touched his shoulder lightly, fingers dancing down his arm, “do you think you could feed me?”

“i think you have too much time on your hands.” he snapped, his tone stern, “go find a seamstress. or a hobby. just leave me to my work.”

you giggled, a bright melodic sound that grated his nerves. you slid your hand beneath the table, fingers grazing the thick, coarse wool of his breeches. “i have a hobby! it involves seeing how long it takes my husband to pretend he doesn’t want to rip my dress off…” you chirped coyly.

Maekar gripped his quill so hard it nearly snapped. he internally chastised himself for taking on such a young second wife. would you ever grow tired of being so irritating? he wondered. he spoiled you with beautiful clothes and all the sweetmeats you could possibly gorge yourself on— what more could you want? he was an old man now, he couldn’t keep up with your constant need for the pleasures of the flesh. “you are quite bothersome.” he said through gritted teeth.

you pressed your palm flat against his crotch, feeling the sudden, hard ridge of his cock beneath the fabric. “oh look! you seem to like it, though!” you smiled.

“i swear, if you—”

“come and swear it in the bedroom,” you licked the shell of his ear, “i am so bored of watching you do all this reading.”

Maekar took a sharp breath in and rose, surging up, chair screeching against the floor. he grabbed your waist, fingers digging into your waist with a bruising grip, “do you think this is a game?” he hissed.

“i hope it is. i love games.”

“fine. you win.”

he didn’t lead you to the bedroom, or even move to lock the great wooden door of his study, he just hoisted you back onto the desk, scattering papers and ink pots and ripping your skirt upwards, “careful with this gown, husband! it is quite expensive, you told me so yourself!” you muttered, fixing the fabric around your body so that it laid in a more pleasing way and exposing your thighs and the soaked lace of your undergarments. he shoved the lace aside wordlessly, movements impatient and harsh, fingers diving into your heat.

he freed his cock, a thick, pulsing vein running along the length of it, glistening with a bead of precum. he didn’t use finesse, he just guided his tip to your opening and thrust home in one heavy push. you cried out and gripped his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric.

the sound of your union was wet and loud. Maekar groaned as he began to hammer into you, the walls of your pussy gripping onto him, milking him with every slide. “is this enough attention for you?” he gasped.

“more!” you whimpered, voice losing its sarcasm, “harder! break the… the fucking desk.”

he complied, balls slapping loudly against your ass with every deep plunge. he reached down, his thumb grinding harshly on your clit, sending a thousand delicious bolts of electricity through your body. your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper. you yanked him down by the collar of his shirt, forcing him into a passionate kiss.

your breathing morphed into ragged sobs as the pressure built. Maekar’s face was strained, his jaw locked. wordlessly, he thrust one last time and came inside you, hot seed flooding your cunt. your climax followed soon after, your pussy gripping him in waves of crushing pleasure.

he pulled out, cum leaking onto a piece of parchment underneath you. he hastily dressed you, pushing your clothes back into place and helping you onto your feet. “now,” he began, straightening his own clothing, “get out.” he commanded, though his voice lacked any harshness. he stroked your cheek with an unusually gentle hand. “i have things to finish.

you grinned, face still flushed from your frantic coupling, and gave him a hasty kiss on the cheek before prancing out of the room. you looked behind you before closing the door. Maekar didn’t look up, but you could see the smile he was trying to hide.

[eroticanas]

i’m in the mood to write a bunch of blurbs so SEND ME YOUR HORNY THOUGHTS PLEASE!!! (yes, don’t worry i’m still working on all your actual fic requests xx)

[eroticanas]

Hiii it may be a little creepy but can u do something that readers is a very innocent church girl and Aerion coerce her into having sex by saying its a thing best friends do? Love ur fics btw

so creepy but literally EXACTLY the kind of thing i love!!! guys take notes and send me asks like this. here’s the fic!!!!

[eroticanas]

☆ ──꒰✉️꒱ ❞ ‧₊˚ “ A SECRET FOR US ”

( tt!AERION TARGARYEN X READER )

☆ ──꒰summary꒱ ❞ aerion takes advantage of a sweet, naive girl, telling you that sex is just something for best friends.

contains! coercion, manipulation, aerion takes advantage of a stupid girl (you!), he also takes your virginity

requested material ❤︎⁠

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 𝗢 ⠀ᰋ Aerion leaned in, his breath smelling of cheap beer. he grinned, showing off the sharp canines, slightly yellowed by years of smoking. “now don’t go overthinkin’ it. i told ya, this is a special kind of bond. only the absolute best of friends do it. it’s a secret, see? like a prayer you don’t go off telling your preacher about.”

“a secret?” you whispered, “but mama says secrets are sins. unless it’s for a surprise party… or if—”

he cut you off, “this ain’t a sin, it just… nature. you trust me, don’t you?”

“i do.”

he laughed at that, a low, rough sound in the back of his throat. “then let me show ya. first, though, we gotta get all these, uh, barriers out of the way.” he explained, gingerly moving his hand to your back so that he could slide the zipper of your dress down. the fabric fell down your shoulders and revealed a modest white bra. you shivered even though it was sweltering out.

“is this the best part of friendship?”

“the best part,” he confirmed. he reached down, fingers hooking into the elastic waistband of your cotton panties and sliding them down. you gasped, parting your legs instinctively to make it easier for him to get them off.

you looked down at yourself, then back up at him, his eyes dark and lusty. “why are you looking at me like that?”

“cause you’re a little piece of heaven, sweet thing. now look here.” Aerion stood up and shucked off his jeans and his briefs in one quick shove, letting his thick shaft spring free. it was veined and leaking a pearlescent bead of arousal.

your eyes widened in shock. you had never seen a man this bare in your entire life. the most skin you had witnessed—in all your almost-nineteen years of your life—was the thin chest of christ, dying on the crucifix. “what is that?” you asked, “Aerion… it looks, um, angry.”

he laughed and stepped closer until the head of it brushed up against your thigh. it was hot on your skin.

“it ain’t angry, sugar. it’s just… excited to see you. this here’s my cock, and you got a little place just for it, right between your legs. that’s where the best friend magic happens. now, lay back. just relax and let me take care of everything.”

he pushed you into the mattress and knelt between your thighs, the heavy weight of him pressing you into the foam. he reached down, his rough fingers finding the small, swollen nub of your clit. he rubbed it firmly, and a small, high-pitched cry slipped past your lips. it felt strange, unknown, like something warm in the pit of your belly had started to slowly work its way through the rest of your body.

“you’re gettin’ wet for me, aren’t you?” he mumbled, running his fingers down to your opening and smearing the slick on your sensitive clit. he dipped back down and slid two fingers into your tight, virgin cunt.

you arched your back, breath coming in short gasps in a way that you couldn’t control. “oh- Aerion, it hurts a little!” you whimpered out.

“it’s just a bit, sweet thing. just a bit. it’ll get better, i promise.”

he positioned the head of his cock against your weeping opening, rubbing his tip in the wetness there. then, he pushed slowly, the friction of his dry skin against your slick walls creating a tacky, pulling sensation. he gave one hard, sudden thrust, burying himself deep inside. you yelped, a sound of pure shock and pain, fingers digging into the stained blanket covering his bed.

“oh lord, Aerion, please! it hurts, please-” he watched the beginnings of tears collecting in the corners of your big, innocent, doe like eyes, “please stop!”

“shh, just breathe. just breathe through it.” he stroked your inner thigh for comfort, “you’re doin’ so good for your best friend.” he paused, letting you adjust to the stretch before picking up the pace, hammering into you, his thrusts violent and erratic. the bed frame knocked against the wall, your tits bouncing with every impact.

you felt that strange sensation, that subtle warmth in your belly, turning into a white-hot heat that tightened in your gut. your breath shook, “Aerion… i feel-” he thrust in deep, and you cut into your own sentence with a high pitched squeak. “i feel funny, like something’s gonna happen!”

“that’s it baby. just take it all!” he let out a guttural roar, driving himself into you one last time, bottoming out against your cervix. his cock pulsed inside you as he shot hot and thick gushes of cum into your womb.

you shuddered, eyes rolling back as an unfamiliar wave of pleasure crashed over you like a great tsunami. he collapsed on top of you, breathing hard. after a moment, he propped himself up on his elbows and slid himself out of your sensitive cunt, a mixture of his cum and your cream leaking out of your opening. you blinked up at the ceiling. “was that the secret?” you asked.

Aerion smirked, flopping down on the bed beside you, “sure was. and since we’re best friends, i reckon we gotta do it every day.”

[eroticanas]

How would trailer trash aerion react if he ever got reader pregnant

you’d be in the cramped little box that was his trailer, shaking and wringing your hands together, trying to find a way to tell him.

you had prayed and prayed before taking the test that it would not be, that when he buried himself to the hilt and let loose inside you, somehow it didn’t stick. those two lines made your heart sink, but mama had always said that a baby was the lords blessing.

when you finally spat out the words i’m pregnant, he went silent. a million different things racing through his mind, the winning one though, was possession. it was a sick kind of confirmation to him that you’d be his forever—you were bound to him by blood.

sure, urging you to get an abortion certainly crossed his mind, but the idea of you in his trailer that growing bump under one of your sweet sunday dresses was enough to make his cock throb in his jeans.

you’d cry after telling him, of course, overwhelmed by the weight of what was to come. he’d comfort you, pulling you in, letting you get his tank top all wet with your tears, holding you in his lap while he rubbed your back, telling you that “it’s alright, sweet girl. we’ll figure it out.” his dick would be hard against your ass, but you’d be too upset to even realize.

[eroticanas]

okay but this totally gives modern Aerion vibes and I need someone to write about it😭

girl did you mean to attatch something or 😭

[eroticanas]

Love your work! How about a fic of trailer!trash Aerion x “holy” reader where he gets jealous of one of the boys she goes to church with?? That’s all thx <3 -xoxo

here!!! all done xx

[eroticanas]

☆ ──꒰✉️꒱ ❞ ‧₊˚ “ NO MORE BOYS ”

( tt!AERION TARGARYEN X READER )

☆ ──꒰summary꒱ ❞ Aerion’s jealous, and wants you to remember that the only man that knows his way around your cunt is him.

contains! fingering, name calling, p in v.

requested content ❤︎⁠

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 𝗢 ᰋ inside the cab of Aerion’s rusted old chevy, the dusty warmth of summer clung to your skin. he gripped the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the distance. you sat beside him, hands folded in your lap, dress smoothed over your knees. “i saw you,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road like he couldn’t even bear to look at you. “i saw you with that caleb, leaning in all close.”

“he was telling me about the church bake sale, Aerion. he’s a friend.”

“a friend.” he mused, “you think i’m a damn fool, don’t you? you’re out here playing house with some boy who probably ain’t even grown enough to shave, acting all pious while you’re sneakin’ around.” he pulled over on the side of the red dust road.

“i’m not sneaking! i love my church and i love my friends.”

“no, you love the way he looks at you.” he reached over, arm on the back of your seat while his hand reached for the back of your neck. “you like playing the innocent little church mouse for him. but we both know what you are with me. you’re a whore. a dirty little whore playing dress up with your bible and your modest little dress.”

your breath hitched, a sob catching thickly in your throat, “how can you say that? i’ve never… i’ve only ever been with you.”

Aerion’s thumb pressed into the soft skin behind your ear, rubbing there in a way that made you shiver. “you keep that sweet, holy face for the congregation, but i know you crave this. you crave a man that knows how to treat you like a slut.” he shifted, his hand moving from your neck, sweeping across your chest and giving one of your tits a firm squeeze before diving beneath your skirt. you gasped, back arching as his hot palm hit the cotton of your panties. he didn’t hesitate, grinding his hand hard against your mound.

“does caleb make you leak through your drawers, sweetheart?” he whispered, “does he rub you like this?”

“Aerion… please, stop it…” you whined, though your hips tilted into his touch.

“you’re soakin’ sweet girl, look at that.” he hummed, moving his hand so that you could see the wet patch forming on your underwear. he hooked two fingers into the waistband of them, pulling the fabric tight against your clit. he began to rub in fast, punishing circles, the sensation sending jolts through you. “tell me, does that little church boy make you feel like this? does he make your pussy throb?”

“no,” you gasped, eyes screwed shut. “no, he doesn’t.”

“damn right he don’t. he ain’t got the balls for dealing with you anyways.” he pushed the fabric aside, his fingers diving deep into your wetness. you let out a moan, your head hitting the headrest.

the sound of you beneath his fingers was embarrassingly loud, a wet noise as he rubbed through your creamy pussy. “listen to that,” he chuckled, “you’re just a thirsty little bitch, ain’t ya?”

he pushed two fingers inside, hitting your soft walls with a force that made your head spin. he pumped rhythmically, the sound of flesh on flesh filling his truck.

“bet you think about me during all your sermons,” he teased, his voice a rough growl, “bet you sit in that pew thinkin’ about my cock stretching you out while the preacher talks about sin.”

“i… i dont,” you stuttered out. it was a lie. you thought about it constantly. you prayed the thoughts away.

Aerion withdrew his fingers, the wet strands of your arousal clinging to his skin until they pulled tight and thin and snapped. he wiped the rest on his thigh and grabbed your thighs, hauling you towards him so that you laid sideways on the bench seat, your back pressed against the warm leather.

he reached for his belt, the leather creaking as he hastily undid it and freed his thick, veiny cock. it sprang out, glistening already, the head an angry red. he shimmied your underwear off, positioning himself between your legs and exposing your wet pussy. he gave his cock a few pumps, “look at it, sweetheart, see what a real man looks like.”

he touched his tip on your cunt, giving your clit a few wet slaps with his cock head. he rubbed the precum around your pussy lips before sliding into your opening.

he filled you completely, his girth stretching your tight walls to their limit. the sound of the impact was a heavy, vulgar slap of skin on skin. “you like that?” he groaned, “you like feelin’ this big cock rip through that pure little pussy?” he sped up, holding your hips tight. “tell me you’re my whore. tell me you don’t want that church boy.” he breathed, a needy desperation in his eyes that he tried to disguise with the bruising pressure that he fucked you with.

“i’m your… i’m your whore…” you whimpered, fingers digging into the cracked leather upholstery. “i don’t want him! please, Aerion, don’t stop!”

your plea seemed to set the both of you off. Aerion buried himself as deep as he could while your pussy pulsed around him, and let out a long shaking breath as he erupted. he stayed buried inside you for a long moment, the only sound the heavy panting from both of you.

he pulled out slow, “now,” he started, leaning in to kiss you, tongue tasting of salt and cigarettes, “no more talking to other boys, ain’t that right?”

you nodded sheepishly while he helped you put your panties back on.

[eroticanas]

daeron drunk noncon send tweet

[eroticanas]

Are you going to do part 2 of any of your works? :)

i generally don’t plan on making continuations of anything, but if you specifically request it, i might be willing to do so!

[eroticanas]

Perhaps trailer trash Daeron? In which he baby traps a southern bell with money into living with him in his trailer after you get pregnant (as your parents were strictly against abortion)

aye aye! here it is xo

[eroticanas]

☆ ──꒰✉️꒱ ❞ ‧₊˚ “ ALL BETTER ”

( 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.

[eroticanas]

Modern au when reader is Egg’s babysitter/tutor. You got mixed up and show up to their house on the wrong day, so it’s Aerion that answers the door. You usually try to stay away and not interact with him because well..he’s insane and a creep. Aerion persuades you to come in, reassuring that Maekar and Egg will be back soon (they won’t) and one thing leads to another. Reader rationalizes what happens but secretly enjoys it.

all done! here it is! xx

[eroticanas]

☆ ──꒰✉️꒱ ❞ ‧₊˚ “LESSONS”

☆ ──꒰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.”