Modern!AU [University], in which reader teases starved Student Body President Valarr as he gives a speech, and he makes sure she finishes what she started.
minors dni.
Warnings/tags: Non-Con spanking, Brat play (ig), Consensual fingering, Praise kink, Teasing, Good girl among other pet-names, Finger sucking, Light choking, Light overstimulation, Pleasured to senselessness, Kinda fear of getting caught/semi-public sex, Reader never learns, Softdom Valarr; who is gentle with words and small touches but not when it comes to reader’s c*nt.
Fuck… I’m hard.
It was 6:30 PM, and the university students—at least those who were bored enough to be present—had gathered in the auditorium for the annual talent show.
Student body president Valarr had been preparing all week for the speech he was expected to give—he could recite it backwards if he so wanted. But glancing down at the bulge in his trousers, he realised the one part of the evening he could never have prepared for.
You.
You and Valarr had been in the same class since the beginning of uni. Though you might’ve known each other for ”a long time”, it did not dim the fact that he found you insufferable.
In truth, he couldn’t stand you.
He knew you to be the trouble-making, spoiled upper-class sort of girl. You’d question authority, act generally improperly, and speak rudely to other students whom you deemed as lesser than you—that including Valarr. And you were so ungodly annoying that even his patience failed not to be taxed by your behaviour.
Every time he’d gone out of his way to lecture you, you would dismiss him almost as easily as you would a door-to-door salesman.
Furthermore, your bad behaviour seemed only to worsen as he made his discontentment known—and he found himself wondering if the only way to shut you up was to give that cunt of yours a firm pounding…
During the last trimester, Valarr’s feelings of lust had begun to intensify beyond his control. The thought of putting you in your place had entered his mind more often than he would’ve liked to admit. To the point, it should’ve been classified as a fantasy, not just ”a thought”.
The way you swayed your hips as you strutted the halls, and the way you bent down in the middle of class seminars, just to gaze back playfully at him, had had him scurrying out of the lecture hall to take care of his hard-on on more than one occasion.
It drove him insane.
But it was not like his suffering had gone unnoticed.
You’d felt the looks and the glances across the room like a spotlight, rewarding him by slightly arching your back and relishing the way his hand shamefully travelled under the table and between his legs.
What a perv, you often thought to yourself—and indeed, perverted was what he felt like.
Though you were surprised at first, you had now gotten so used to his horniness that you had made it into a sort of game. Suddenly, it was all rather exciting.
As you moved toward the auditorium—your miniskirt lifting timidly with every step—you involuntarily began to imagine just how pathetic Valarr’s reaction would be. Sometimes you felt yourself warming up at the thought of him one day giving in, and finally burying his twitchy cock inside of you. You wondered if this was that day, if this was the last straw. You had, after all, prepared a little treat. Just to test how far you could egg him on.
With his neck flushed, Valarr tried his best to keep his eyes to himself. But to no avail. Like a puppy to a sweet treat, his mouth watered as you sat next to him, chair disappearing beneath your thighs. His senses fogged with the sweet tang of your raspberry perfume.
If he could just let your chair do the speech and take its place instead...
His mind wandered, dreaming up the image of you sitting on his face. He thought of how sweetly he would make you moan while he drowned blissfully in your juices. ‘Valarr! Valarr!’ you would mewl.
He closed his eyes and allowed them to roll back at the thought, exhaling deeply.
“Valarr!” the professor called for him, frustrated at the Student rep for uncharacteristically missing his cue, and Valarr’s daydream was brought to an unsatisfying end. He stood hurriedly, neck still flushed pink, careful to not look your way, nor to let his cue cards lose their place in front of the bulge in his trousers.
He was hard, and he was thanking every higher power that there was a podium on stage for him to hide behind.
The speech went as smoothly as it could’ve gone, except for the times his eyes landed on you—your piercing gaze forcing him to halt his rhetoric for a moment. You were seated right in front of him, smiling so sweetly, and it was beginning to piss him off.
She’s such a brat, he thought, careful not to speak it out loud.
He rolled up his sleeves in frustration, standing just near enough for you to see the pretty veins on his toned arms. Your growing wetness clung to your chair—it was your turn to stare now.
Valarr’s mismatched eyes were glued to the back of the auditorium, the maroon and dark oak walls the only thing in his view. He was actively ignoring you, and you had to applaud him for his persistence.
However, you were determined to win this one-sided horn-off, as you always did. You brought your hand to your shoulder, caressing it under your blouse to reveal your soft skin. The young man on stage was drawn to your sudden movement.
Got you.
Slowly, you opened your legs, carefully caressing your upper thigh so that your skirt lifted just enough for Valarr to glimpse your unclothed cunt; the other students around you, oblivious to your lewd invitation. He caught his breath, stumbling over his words, and you let out a soft giggle.
Success.
The Student Council president left the stage, ever as proper, though flushed a bright red. He took his seat next to you once again.
He was on edge and annoyed, and you accepted it as a challenge.
You placed your hand on his thigh and cooed, “Good job, Valarr.”
He gave you a firm look.
“Thank you,” he muttered deeply, not pulling his gaze from you.
Something about his expression made your body tingle. His pretty puppy eyes were now dark and unamused; maybe you had gone too far this time.
The lights went out, and almost on cue, Valarr stood, hooking his grip around your waist, before stealthily leading you out of the auditorium.
“Now, for the first performer, Aerion from class BO-TM7, with his… Dragon… dance…?” The voice on stage faded out as Valarr and you neared the exit.
The door shut, and you could feel his warmth behind you. The scent of him, a musk of deep honey, caging you.
“Is everything all right?” You asked innocently, pressing your ass against his groin.
Your own arousal at teasing the poor, young man was evident, the feeling sending a wave of heat through your body.
He laughed in disbelief, taking a second to look around you before whispering breathlessly into your hair, “What the fuck are you doing?”
”Gasp! Cursing?!” You turned to face him, putting on your most elaborately condescending tone, ”Careful now, Mr Perfect. That foul mouth of yours might cost you your beloved presidency.”
You pressed your bosom against him, attempting to agitate him further. But as you reached your hand to boop his nose, you were stopped by Valarr, who grabbed your wrist.
Oop. That was unexpected.
You attempted to lower your hand back down, but his grip was unyielding.
”I’m done with this game,” his deep voice vibrated against your chest, still pressed snuggly to him. You felt your face warm as his dark gaze settled over you. He was not happy.
”L-let go of me, you perv,” meagrely, you pulled your hand once more; you didn’t really want him to let go.
He raised his eyebrows at the word. Prev.
That was it, he'd had enough.
In one swift move, he lifted you over his shoulder, walking towards the nearest lecture hall.
You yelped, your hands frantically trying to cover your bare bottom, while simultaneously holding yourself up by his dress shirt.
”Are you out of your mind?!” you squealed.
Valarr lifted his hand and spanked your ass, his palm leaving a red glow on the delicate skin.
Your breath hitched. Did he just?!
”Put me down right now, you perver—”
Slap. He did it again.
Roughly, he rubbed on the red mark left behind, as if he was charging up.
You drummed on his back, demanding he put you down. But he didn’t. He simply gave your naked cheek another smack and walked on.
By the fifth time, your anger had turned into genuine bewilderment, and your loud protests were now incoherent, soft mumbles.
He glanced at your ass, admiring how your body trembled at the contact before going still again—he was delighted in his work.
You, however, were embarrassed. If someone were to walk by, they would see, not only your bare backside, but your folds dripping with arousal.
”You cannot—” slap.
You mewled, shifting sheepishly on his shoulder, trying to conceal how undeniably turned on you were.
He opened a door and closed it behind him. The room was dark, a weak sheen from a broken light at the back of the lecture hall, the only thing aiding your vision.
Valarr placed you on the professor’s desk and rested his weight on it, his hands on either side of your hips. His head was slumped forward.
You attempted to show your disapproval of the situation, but you only managed to utter a breathless, needy whisper of his name, ”Valarr—”
For fuck’s sake.
Valarr lifted his head lazily, cutting you off, ”Does it come naturally to you or do you take deliberate care to make yourself difficult?”
He stared at you with assertive arousal. Though he was boring, you had to admit, Valarr was quite handsome. Especially now, when he was angry and commanding—yet still with a flustered blush adorning his cheeks. From the way your face heated, you knew you were most likely flushed red too.
”What do you think?” You tried your best to sound unbothered.
”What do I think?” his nose flared as his gaze shifted to your lips. ”I think—” he closed in slowly, allowing his face to rest against yours, though not yet letting your lips meet, ”—you need some discipline… and some respect.”
You breathed into him, raising your chin, desperate for him to kiss you.
He shook his head slowly in response, ”I can’t believe you.”
He held your face, pulling you to him in a hungry kiss. The rough act, made with his soft lips, shot a drowning pleasure through your body, and you tried to force the blissful noises bubbling in your throat to stay put. You began to tug at his dress shirt, to take it off, to pull him closer, anything. You just wanted more of him.
”No, no. You’re not getting that tonight,” He said, breaking the kiss, looking down at you through hooded eyelids.
His palms caressed your sides, sneaking their way under your skirt, where you needed him most.
You fussed, whining in anticipation.
”Do you want me to touch you here?” His fingers grazed against the soft skin of your lower belly.
The smug look on his face made your insides boil, equal amounts of both disdain and arousal mingling within you.
You nodded, earning a satisfied hum from his lips.
Slowly, he leaned in, burrowing his face in the side of your hair once more.
”No,” he said plainly, ”not until you’ve apologised.”
He backed away from you and seated himself on the professor's chair, leisurely spreading his legs.
The air before you grew cold in his absence. You turned to him. His head was tilted as he gazed at you, left all alone and befuddled on the table.
Slowly, he patted his lap, a lewd invitation of his own.
Another wave of heat surged through you; this was not at all what you had expected. You pushed yourself up from the table, focusing on keeping your steps steady. Any hesitation would have had you drooping weakly to the floor, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.
So you didn’t hesitate.
You lifted yourself casually to straddle him, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The moment you sat, however, your hips unconsciously jutted against his, and you prayed it had gone unnoticed; he did not need any more reason to belittle you.
Valarr caressed your ass, seemingly staring up at you with admiration. It made you uneasy. But he kept fondling the sensitive skin, and it felt so good.
Soon, your sighs became heavier. You grabbed a handful of his dark chestnut hair, as he squeezed and pushed you down onto his clothed cock. Its hardness jabbed into your thigh, as the friction of his trousers dragged cruelly along your clit, your wet arousal drenching the fabric.
You dropped your head, nuzzling it into his neck.
”No,” he whispered suddenly. ”I want you over my leg.”
He deepened himself into the chair and rested his arms on its top rail, refusing to touch you. For a moment, you stared at him, mostly annoyed that he had stopped grinding into you.
You spoke sharply, ”I am over your legs.”
An impatient hum left Valarr’s lips. He lifted you with ease, guiding you into his preferred position.
Oh.
You lie, chest across his thigh and backside between his legs.
While positioning you, his hand stayed pressed to your bare ass, only leaving it for a moment to flick your skirt up over your back, revealing all of you to him. The other, now held your jaw, turning you to have the tips of your noses touch.
Your back arched as he squeezed your backside again, harder than before.
”Apologise,” he growled.
The sharp sting of his palm against your flesh—recently made familiar to you—found your blushing bum yet again.
You mewled, only to force a furrow to your brows, as if the act was able conceal the one that came before it.
”For what—” another slap.
You gripped the fabric over his thighs.
The sensations were too intense. Even as your skin ached, you found yourself pressing yourself onto his offending hand, desperately wanting his touch.
”You know well—”
”I don’t,” you cut.
Slap.
You mewled again.
The smacks of skin to skin followed each of his sentences, acting as punctuation. Between your punishments, his fingers teased your folds, lapping up and down so faintly it was maddening.
”You are a clever girl,” he spoke into your lips as his fingers barely grazed your clit, taunting the sensitive bud, ”do not pretend otherwise.”
You moaned reluctantly.
”Now, let me hear you apologise, sweetheart.” Slap.
Your brows could only furrow in pleasure now.
He caressed your ass and lowered his head to place innocent pecks onto it, as if your current circumstance wasn't the most erotic you'd ever found yourself in.
”So pretty.” He whispered to himself.
You squirmed between his legs, but his toned arms held you in place.
”You’re not going anywhere—” Slap. ”—Be a good girl now—” Another one. ”—And apologise.” A third.
A huffed sigh left your lips. How did you even get here?
”I’m sorry.” Your voice was cold and stubborn, your embarrassment evident.
That tone of yours, was not to Valarr’s liking.
”You can do better than that.” Slap.
Valarr kissed your lips and allowed his fingers to press ever so gently against your clit. He was rewarding you for your apology; even though it was lacklustre.
Your hips rutted backwards from the sudden stimulation, and Valarr chuckled softly.
”Please, Valarr,” you whispered, struggling to beg for more in the least begging way possible.
”No, no. Not please,” he scoffed. ”Apologise properly… and I might touch you they way you want me to.”
”I’m sorry!” you did sound desperate now.
”For…?” He waited for you to finish the sentence.
”For being rude... and disrespectful…” your words strained in your throat. You haven’t had to apologise like this since you were a child.
”And...?”
”And!?” the sharp edge seethed back into your voice.
Slap.
He held your face and rubbed gentle circles along your sweet spot, ”Not that tone again.”
You bit your lip, as you fussed desperately over his thigh, your hips shifting back to add more pressure to his touch. Yet, each effort was only met by his pulling away from your wetness.
He continued, voice soft, ”Apologise for what you did in there.” His head tilted toward the auditorium.
”I’m sorry… for teasing you,” you said spuriously, rolling your eyes slightly.
"Are you?"
"Mm, no... not really," you spat, pleased with yourself.
Another slap.
You yelped at the strike, which, frustratingly, sounded more like a whimper than anything, "You're such a perv!"
Valarr let out a cold hum as his palm came down once more; by now, you’d lost count of how many times he’d done it. This time, the impact was harsher, sending a sharp throb through your already sensitive skin.
He didn’t stop—each strike followed the last in a merciless rhythm, echoing through the hall.
You whined, grabbing his upper thigh to steady yourself.
God, you just wanted him to fuck you.
"Are you sorry now?"
"Mm—Yes! I'm sorry, truly!" It was impossible to not sound absolutely pitiful uttering those words. ”It won’t happen again!”
Valarr hummed, satisfied enough with your answer.
Slowly, he pushed a finger inside of you.
You made a small lurch before lowering into a purr; the friction along your walls was so delicious.
"Is this okay?"
Your arms had given out, and you mumbled sweetly against his thigh, "Please, don't stop."
With a steady hand, he pumped into your warmth, at the same time, resting his other beneath your face as he placed soft kisses against your cheek. Already, you could feel your lower belly tensing, but you could not cum so easily; you would not hear the end of it if you did.
”You’re so wet…” He spoke breathlessly as he entered you with another finger.
You both moaned, feeling you clench around the second digit.
The sight of you, sprawled over his lap, completely at his mercy, was better than Valarr had ever imagined. He held your jaw firmly, lifting you to face him, to look him in the eyes. Your folds were just as eager as you were, sucking him back in every time he drew his fingers out of you. He wanted to watch you come undone, watch you lose yourself around him.
"Faster, Valarr. Please." you mumbled.
By now, his own appetite for your pleasure had grown, the wet blotch of precum on his trousers swelling along with each coat of your arousal.
He bit his lip. He couldn't help but oblige your request.
Unapologetically, you moaned. The sound drowned out beneath the music from performances in the auditorium next door, though you could swear you heard a hitch in the melody at your lewd noises.
However, you could not bring yourself to care.
Deep in your gut, you felt the tightness of your climax building. You were so close, shivering under his grasp, your ass red and ravaged. Your folds tensed erratically around Valarr, his hand now soaked from tip to palm with your wetness.
"Look at you, clenching down your pretty cunt on my fingers," he mocked, "Do they feel that good?"
You only whimpered in reply, nodding your head fervently.
”Yes?” he confirmed, raising his brow smugly, his rhythm unrelenting. "Use your words, Princess."
You moaned louder, "Yes!"
His thumb snaked to the opening of your mouth, rubbing along your lower lip. You gaped, your tongue prodding out slightly. Valarr moaned deeply as you sucked on the finger; your pupils dilated, your gaze drunken.
His pace quickened, curving his fingers to prod deeper into you.
The sounds filling the hall were similar to those of a porno, like the ones Valarr would watch guilty, late at night, thinking of you. But this, this was real, and oh so filthy.
”So desperate," he cooed. "All along, you just needed someone to fuck you straight, didn’t you, sweetheart?”
”Ngh, yes!” you spoke, senseless, consumed by lust and pleasure, with his thumb still placed on your tongue.
Wholly content, Valarr sighed, ”Look how politely you’re answering me now, hm?” He could not be enjoying this more than he already was.
It felt unreal how easily he had reduced you to such a pathetic state with only a few touches.
His hand wrapped around your throat, pressing slightly on its sides. Slowly, he kissed up your shoulder, the pace of it greatly contrasting with the way his other hand was overwhelming your cunt.
When his face had reached your neck, a tender command deepened into your ear, "Cum for me."
The hand on your throat forced you to meet his gaze. You whimpered against him as he added a third finger, the stretch rupturing you into pure ecstasy. Valarr scarcely managed to get a proper pump in before you orgasm clamped down hard around him.
"Ah, Fuck," he groaned.
Your broken, breathless moans spilled into the narrow space between you, Valarr's guiding voice keeping you grounded as he spoke sweet nothings into your lips.
"That’s it, princess. I got you.”
His arm strained as he held his pace, determined to get you through your high.
Your mind fogged.
"Mm, y’so pretty when you cum for me," the hum of his voice vibrated through you.
Your body rutted back and forth, unable to decide whether you wanted him to stop or to bury himself deeper.
"Such a good girl."
With a last jut of your hips, you slumped down, lying onto his chest—his fingers only slowing their pace as they continued to pump into you. Sluggishly, pushing in and out—overwhelming you.
He caressed your hair, relishing how you burrowed your soft moans into his neck.
”Ngh… Ngh… Ngh…” you whined with each deepening of his fingers.
He placed small pecks along your collarbone, speaking between them, "Now what do we say?"
You released a faltered whine, "Th-thank you."
Valarr’s lips curved into a faint smile as he drew you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to you trembling lips. He pulled away before slowly letting his fingers draw out from inside your cunt, and you quivered at the sudden emptiness.
He brought them to his mouth, gingerly licking up your sweet juices, your arousal growing eager again at the sight.
You teased quietly, ”You're such a pervert," only to immediately regret it the instant you saw Valarr arch his brows.
The young man sighed, a grin tugging the sides of his mouth as he lifted his chin sharply, directing you, "On the table."
You bit your lip. For fuck's sake.
Author’s note:
This is my first smut… I might’ve written the warnings wrong, if so I apologize! I’m literally just a girl.
Also english is not my first language, if you see something grammatically incorrect, no you didn’t 👀
Hello everyone, I am insane. (I was just trying to make some phrases for Monez to say during sexc time…)
Ao3 link for fanfic
I think I’m primarily gonna use Marathian in the chapters from Valarr’s POV, when the Maraths speak with each other, cause Valarr doesn’t understand what they’re saying; I’m probably gonna forget this. I’ll be putting the translations in this post for you guys to check out if you are curious.
[See author’s note at the end]
Core vocabulary (verbs and key nouns)
Hel – love
Aga – give
Yior – speed
Nat – strength / hardness
Mri – speech
Umut – stop
Kalosi – please
Expressions with “love”
Ma hel – my love
Ma helti – my little love
Ma helya bani – I love you (I hold love for you)
Ma li helya bani – I love you a lot
Ma lik helya – I love [you] more
Ma li helya’oh – I love [you] a lot too
Ma lik’aftart helya bani – I love you more than he does
Ma lik’aftni helya bani – I love you more than I love him
Commands and interjections
(you know what this is)
’Re – hey (informal)
Umut’re – hey, stop it (Yerev’s favorite phrase)
Lik aga mani kalosi - please give me more
Li yiorba - go faster, [imperative]
Li natba - go harder, [imperative]
Cultural and religious terms (and their real world equivalet)
Rashai – mountain (the Marathian god basically)
Rashai’yi utuv agart – the Mountain gives blessings ("Mashallah")
Rashai’yi beromya – all praise is to the Mountain ("Alhamdulillah")
Rashai’yi mriuren – the Mountain has spoken ("Fate has decided")
Yu’Rashai’yi harya kun – if the Mountain wills it ("Inshallah")
Pronouns and determiners
Ma – I / my
Ba – you / your
Aft – he / she
Afteç – they (people)
Yun – it (pronounced as just ”Yu” if followed by a consonant)
Mani – to/for me
Bani – to/for you
Çude – this
Kude – that
’Yi – the (placed at end of subject)
Connectors
Vero – and
’Oh – also / too (placed at end of subject)
Vero’oh bani – and to you as well
Core particles and modifiers
Li – a lot
Ti – a little
Lik – more than (comparative marker)
Tik – less than (comparative marker)
Kun – if (placed at end of clause)
Ka – question marker (placed at end of clause)
Den – yes / do
Sen – no / don’t
Fisi - of course / naturally
Sout’ - not (negation, placed at beginning of clause)
Grammar markers
-ç – plural (people)
-(e)bit – plural (things)
-art – verb marker (“to do”)
-ya – to have / to hold
-maz - to feel
-uren – past (have done)
-uz – was
-har – will be (future)
-um – is / are
Derived verbs
Agart – to give
Yiorart – to go
Natart – to push
Mriart – to speak
Descriptive vocabulary
Suha – good
Yu’li suhaum - it is so good
Dalid – bad
Tensi - warm
Lako - soft
Levdi – handsome
Ebek – beautiful
Galin – calmness / serenity / tranquility
Utuv – blessing
Berom – praise (this is just swedish lol, I gave up)
If any pontic greeks are reading this please ignore that I just used pontiaka in some phrases; it’s a dying language you guys, we gotta save it in some way lol
“The stinging odour of salt and fish tickled Monez’s senses, its faintness almost taunting her."
Ao3 Link
Summary:
Lady Monez of Marath was raised to rule; however, upon her father’s passing, her uncle claimed her inheritance for himself. And now, she has vowed to live her life as a ruthless spinster, keeping her uncle's biggest asset out of his reach: the offer of her hand. In Monez, the lords of Westeros shall encounter the most scandalous, ill-tempered, and utterly improper lady the realm has ever witnessed.
Though regrettably for her, Crown Prince Valarr Targaryen finds her defiance as offensive as it is intriguing. And when whispers of her father’s lost will begin to emerge, the prince she cannot stand may be her only remaining ally.
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, [Eventual Smut]
i saw someone here say valarr is sensitive on his white hair streak... and i've been going insane with it.
you probably discovered it a few weeks into your marriage. your husband had grown the habit of drifting off to sleep with his head resting against your chest, the faint sound of the thumps of your heart lulling him into peaceful sleep.
valarr would practically purr at the feeling of your soft touch as you ran your fingers through his hair, and you'd chuckle delightfully as you sensed him melt further into your warmth. that is, until your fingers scratched at a particular spot on his scalp, the one where a silver streak grew amongst the dark strands of hair.
valarr visually shivered, and you noticed the goosebumps that grew along his bare back. one of his arms twitched around your waist, tightening reflexively where it previously rested peacefully.
your movements halted, fingers freezing around his head. "what was that?"
"it's nothing." he answered way too quickly, though you sensed how stiff he had become atop of you, as well as the heat that had overtaken his cheek as it rested against the skin of your collarbone. "just something that... happens."
from then on, you couldn't let it go. your fingers would naturally search for that sweet spot of his every time you had your fingers in his soft hair—even in the most heated of times.
in the dim of your darkened chambers, only the soft glow of dying flames casting shadows across the stone walls, you would have your thighs circling your husband's head, his fingers digging firmly into your flesh as valarr pulled you closer to the end of the bed, where he kneeled before you with his tongue avidly reaching to collect the sweetness gathered in between your thighs.
valarr's hips were already twicthing restlessly in search of friction, and as if it wasn't torment enough, deft fingers lowered to his head to pull at the silver locks that prickled the skin of your inner thigh.
"my love," he'd groan as he broke away from your wetness, fingers gently enclosing around your wrist to pin it back down on the mattress. "we've talked about this."
other times, you'd grow particularly mischievous, waiting for just the right time before pulling your final move. you'd register when his hips stared faltering as he thrusted his length deep inside you, his soft sounds slowly turning into broken whimpers as he grew desperate to reach his high.
you'd lock your ankles around his lower back, hips lifting off the mattress to meet him halfway, bringing his cock deeper inside you. only then, you would shift one of your hands from where it clutched at his broad back, sneaking it higher to where your fingers would close around the hair on the right side of his head. you tugged then, and you swore to the gods you never witnessed your husband fall apart so incredibly fast.
"gods be good," valarr would exhale once he managed to catch a weak breath, his nose nudging at the side of your throat. his cock twitched inside you while his spill warmed you from the insides. "you cruel woman. taking advantage of a man's weakness."
you only huffed a tired, victorious laugh in response.
Lady Monez of Marath was raised to rule; however, upon her father’s passing, her uncle claimed her inheritance for himself. And now, she has vowed to live her life as a ruthless spinster, keeping her uncle's biggest asset out of his reach: the offer of her hand. In Monez, the lords of Westeros shall encounter the most scandalous, ill-tempered, and utterly improper lady the realm has ever witnessed.
Though regrettably for her, Crown Prince Valarr Targaryen finds her defiance as offensive as it is intriguing. And when whispers of her father’s lost will begin to emerge, the prince she cannot stand may be her only remaining ally.
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, [Eventual Smut]
bro i’ve been obsessing with the thought of riding dunk’s thigh and he’s just so infatuated with you and so so desperate.
18+ (fem!reader, dunk is so needy for you [slightly… subby? idk but he whimpers ok], thigh-riding, reader is sexy + undefined).
his hands are just so big, and his thigh is just so strong and so wide that you can’t help yourself—clambering into his lap one evening, the forest quiet around you.
and you just take what you need.
your warm core pressing to the material of his trousers, your hands squeezing at the fat of his pectorals through his tunic, or running over the muscular curves of his shoulders.
god, you’d been dripping all evening. pussy soaked, thighs clenching as you watched him tend to his sword, polishing with strong hands and flexing arms, leaning it against one thick thigh, the blade appearing impossibly small.
and now, he’s got his hands on your hips, big and encompassing, a warm pressure as he holds you down onto him. he’s panting as you rock yourself back and forth, your bare cunt rubbing over his thigh. he can feel how warm you are, how wet you are through the fabric.
he tenses his thigh and you whimper, your head falling forward as you roll your hips, puffy clit dragging across his trousers and sending bolts of pleasure into the base of your spine.
then, it’s dunk’s turn to whimper as you press hot, open-mouthed kisses to the skin of his neck. he’s flushed and tacky with sweat, and when you press your tongue to his pulse and skim your thumbs over his covered nipples, you feel him shudder beneath you, a low whine escaping him.
“ah, gods,” he mutters, eyes dropping as he cranes his head back. his cock is painfully hard in his trousers, leaking into breeches, and it twitches as you suck a mark onto the hollow of his throat.
you kiss his bobbing adam’s apple, and then kiss his jaw, finally kissing the corner of his mouth as you grind yourself down harder onto him. you moan quietly against him, pussy clenching around nothing, slick soaking his trousers. dunk’s drawn to the sound, and with a breathless groan he chases your mouth with his own. your lips slot together and he groans again, tongue unfurling along the mounds of your teeth as you continue to rock your hips.
his thigh is warm and taut beneath you, and the slight scratch of his trousers against your clit has something pinching in your lower belly. his grip on your hips is unrelenting, and he gasps into your mouth when one of your hands finds the imprint of his thick cock straining at the seams.
“you feel so good,” dunk whispers to you, head falling back as you bite your bottom lip between your teeth, whimpers trapped behind. “gods, you’re so wet and warm. can feel you soakin’ me.”
you palm his cock, your other hand finding the back of his neck as you hold his head still. you bring him down to press your forehead to his and your speed increases, hips stuttering against his thigh, pussy slick and throbbing with each movement. you breathe into each other’s space, punctuated only by your desperate panting and his airy whines.
“feels so good, dunk,” you practically purr, and you catch his cock twitching beneath your palm, warm and solid. “s’just so big—so strong, ser. you’re always so good for me. my big boy.”
dunk’s mouth drops open again, blue eyes glossing over, fingers tightening into the flesh of your hips. he forces you down harder onto his thigh, and you toss your head back to moan as the pressure sends a deep-seated pleasure spreading through your core. your toes curl, legs twitch, and something heavy builds in the base of your belly.
“come on,” he whispers his plea. “be good—be a good girl and—ah fuck—c-come on my thigh. need to feel you soak me. please.”
he tapers off in a low groan, and the sound pierces through you and pushes an involuntary moan from deep in your chest. you rock yourself on his thigh, once, twice, three more times, pussy slick and wet and hot, before the pressure inside you breaks. you come over his thigh, his name a honey-sweet mewl from your lips while you hold his shoulder and palm his thick length.
“o-oh gods,” dunk groans quietly, and as you shudder against him, your head now on his shoulder as the movement of your hips slow to a stop, you feel a wet warmth spread beneath your hand. “oh gods, oh fuck—”
he’s spilled inside his trousers.
you lift your head and pout at him, a low, languid murmur of “oh, duncan, my sweet boy,” falling easily from your lips as you continue to palm him through it, his body trembling, hands impossibly tight on your hips.
“i didn’t—“ he swallows thickly. “i didn’t mean to—”
you press a soft kiss to his lips and he melts beneath you.
“dunk,” you say quietly. “it’s okay. that, honestly, may have been the hottest thing i’ve ever seen.”
your poor hedge knight blushes a deep scarlet, hair at his temples damp with sweat as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. his large hands circle around you, his arms following, and he hugs you to him tightly, unrelenting.
“you just felt so good,” he mutters against you, and you can barely make out what he’s saying as you stroke his hair. “always feel so good… so good for me.”
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