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“Come back, be here ...”

Pairing: fancast! Benji blackwood x Bracken!reader

Benji masterlist

“ You and Benji meet when sky goes blaze and sun comes up, by the woods. But this time somthing hits different.

Nsfw 18 +, sexual content ahead ( blow job ) and hinted sex, enemies with benefits, smug! Benji, gn! Bracken! Reader, choking, physical shoving and rough reader, Benji being adorable, fluff, sprinkle of fairy dust ( angst ) some team black vs green dispute.

“ What are you doing here ? ”

The twigs crunched by your soles echoed in ten empty woods, the sun was coming up from the horizon where land met sky.

“ You're late.” Benji said, rubbing his eye like he had fallen asleep, bones cracking as he got up from the bottom the trunk where he was sitting, a leather pouch discarded.

“ This wasn't even meant to be.” You spat, eyeing him as he grinned at your anger, already making his way towards you.

“ Why ? ” He said nonchalantly, knowing how much you hated that tone, slurring the ends, “ Because your coward king—”

“ Shut your mouth.” You shoved him, his back hitting the nearest bark, wrapping your fingers around his throat, his eyes locked in yours.

“ or what ? ” He challenged, every sound resonating back in your skin, waves shooting up and down, rippling your heart, he was very much amused when you had no answer.

“ Go, before I kill you traitor. ” You loosened your grip, satisfied to see the four red marks clinging to his cartilage rings, adam apple bobbling when he swallowed hard.

“ Why are we doing this ? ” He pulled you by the back of your neck, his face turning to a scowl.

“ Doing what ? ”

Benji shaked his head like you were being an idiot, “ This.” he said, with more urgency and you huffed before he caught you off guard.

He kissed you, not the first time and as you hoped, not the very last.

But it was different, like all your kisses were more crashing and shearing and reaching for each other while this, this— it was everything the rest weren't. Soft and sweet, a breeze on your mouth, slow and musical, like you had all the time, it was how lovers kissed, so close that his heart was beating in your ribs, so close that sides didn't matter and he was all along in you, with you.

“......” You pulled away when your chest ached for breath, his face was beaming with the crimson patches and lips swollen by you.

“ Do you...” He started, biting his lower lip, you looked away, “ ...you happen to have time.”

“ Not much.” you grabbed at his tunic, pulling it away while his face only heated up like the sun itself.

The moment you took him in your mouth was the moment you changed what has changed, ofcourse, Benji slipped into another person while you were at it, sometimes he would call you ‘darling’, ‘love’ and all those sweet names lovers had the luxury of, but it was forgotten as soon as both of you were in your clothes and senses.

But when he tugged at your hair, whispering sweet nothings with moans only you could make him gasp, or you hoped ( you wished ).

He was praising and guiding as your mouth devoured him whole, sniffing in his musky scent and drowning in his thick juices, he came with cursing “ oh love...” so loud that neither of you could forget it didn't happen.

There was hardly any talking, speaking meant acknowledge of what you were doing and in that case — you both were clueless. You hardly remember how and when this became something that was meant to be.

To meet by the horizon and fuck daylights out of each other wasn't the most fierce rivalry, to speak ill and crude before pulling each other for a kiss that could last lifetimes.

To hold hands as one reached heaven, or presumably hell, each thrust driven with hate, passion and anger and most of all — hope.

Benji and you never kissed after, it was only the initialisation, the ‘ hey, let's fuck.’ and a glare or pathetic attempt to insult was used as ‘ now get the fuck out of my territory ’ with an unsaid, ‘ but be back to me, soon’

So when Benji helped you up your knees, his head leaning against the bark as he show stars in morning blazing sky, before his eyes met you, flushed and pink lips pressed in warm summer sun, softly and sweetly.

“ You are getting good.” and here it was, his pathetic attempt but you were so wrong because that smile, which reached his eyes could never be an insult, and he was still clasping your hand.

You swallowed hard, the sun came up and he was looking at you, his gaze was softer when you looked back, was it today or was it all this time and you never saw, too afraid to fall in those devastingly beautiful eyes, lighting up like mischief.

“ Now get out.”

He chuckled as you pulled, clutching your wrist near your heart, arching your brows because that made you feral — another useless fact Benji had told you.

“ Don't be late—” he bent down, picking his leather pouch along with cloak, displaying his fine ass, shit “ — next time, there's more I want to do. ”

Despite you struggled, keeping the blush under control, or to blame the sun, you felt your whole body stiffening with the mere thought, arousal lurching in your stomach.

“ If you really want to do something,” you took three step back, facing his forward, the sun almost in the sky, blazing his whole face, “ then you could tell your troops on the western front to calm the fuck down, it's annoying.”

“ You didn't answer my question.” He pouted to himself, waving you off.

“ which question ? ” you blinked.

“ Nevermind, next time.” He smirked, you nodded, so there's going to be next time, you held the smile clutched in your cheeks.

“ Right.” you said, nodding while he bobbled in chin in courtesy and walked out of the woods to the blackwood fields.

--------------------------------------------------

“ My leige” A beaded man came rushing, his hand waving a parchment that was crumbled around the edges.

“ Make sure the mother is provided good care —” you turned to him, “ yes ? ”

“ The Blackwood troops dreaded the west aisles... there's been no dispute.”

Something inside you soared high, like bird's first flight and dropped like a free fall, no certainly just a hope.

“...” The said man stared at you, that's when you realised you were smiling your brightest.

“ that's... that's very nice.” You stood up, the woods awaited you.

Bitch how dare you getting me into slasher smut

“La Petite Mort” - Dark Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader (Pt. 2 of 2)

a/n: read part one HERE! thank you guys so much for the support with this lil story, i had so much fun sharing it with you! ❤️

Summary: You deal with the fallout of Aemond's confession.

TW: DDNE dark content, HEAVY DUBCON, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, p in v sex, unprotected sex, dark themes, kidnapping, gun violence, knife violence, handcuffs, oral f receiving, oral m receiving, tiddy succin

Word Count: 2,780 words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated❤️

“Do you know how much I love you?”

“Do you know that I’ve fucking killed for you?”

You look at Aemond, the intense expression in his eye terrifying you. You stand, frozen in place, as he stays buried inside of you. He’s got to be joking, right? There’s no way he can be serious. You laugh nervously, as he pulls out of you, feeling uncomfortably empty as you feel his seed leaking down your thighs.

“You’re so funny, Aem.”

“I’m not joking,” he murmurs in your ear, nipping at your earlobe before whispering, “I promised you our time was coming soon, didn’t I, pretty agent?”

Pretty agent.

You feel as though your blood turns to ice in your veins at his words. It’s him. It’s Aemond. He’s the killer, the one who’s been stalking you, the one you’ve been trying to hunt down. You barely manage to dodge his kiss, shoving him out of the way and slamming the door to your bedroom shut, locking it. You grab the first shirt you can find, which unsurprisingly, is one of his that you sleep in. The thought makes your skin crawl but you put that aside when you hear Aemond calling to you from the other side of the door.

“Come on, baby, open the door,” he coos, his voice saccharine sweet, “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“Fuck you,” you spit angrily, grabbing your gun from your nightstand as you hear Aemond begin banging on the door, “What, you want me to let you in so you can fucking kill me?

“We both know if I wanted you dead, you’d have been dead already. Now open the door, love.”

You shake your head, holding back a scream when he manages to kick it open. Aemond’s pulled his clothes back on and has his own gun drawn, both of you standing, staring each other down. Aemond’s lips quirk up into a smirk.

“You’re not going to shoot me and I’m not going to shoot you, love. So put the gun down and let’s talk.”

You cock your gun, finger on the trigger and shake your head, “You killed all those girls, Aemond. You really don’t think I’ll kill you for that?”

Aemond crosses the room in two long steps, his gaze never wavering as he tosses his gun aside, disarming himself. He raises his hands in surrender as he speaks once more.

“Are you going to shoot me, pretty agent? I’m unarmed.”

You feel your eyes water. You have the power to end this here and now. You have the power to put an end to the violence Aemond has been perpetuating for God knows how long. You swore an oath to uphold your duties as a federal agent, to protect the citizens of your country. By all accounts, that means killing Aemond. He brings your gun to his forehead, looking down the barrel of it into your eyes.

“You can’t do it, can you?” he murmurs, “You love me too much to do it.”

You feel the tears finally begin to fall as you look back at him, unable to just pull the trigger. Because even though he’s a murderer and a monster, he’s still your best friend, the man you care so deeply for, the one constant in your life. The one who’s been there for you through it all. And in your moment of hesitation, Aemond grabs your gun from you, pulling you in by your wrists, holding them in one of his large hands. He reaches for something in his pocket, and before you can even say a word, your world fades to black.

You don’t know how much time has passed when you wake up. But your head aches like crazy, your eyes burning slightly as you sit up. That’s when you feel the metal on your wrists. You try to move your arms and find that you’re not able to go very far. You’re handcuffed to the bed you’re lying in. You let out a growl of frustration and futilely tug at your restraints until the doorknob twists, indicating someone is opening the door. You immediately close your eyes and pretend you’re asleep once again.

“I know you’re awake.”

You refuse to open your eyes until you feel Aemond’s finger tracing the shape of your lips. Then, you look up and glare at him.

“Where the fuck am I?”

“Just a guest room in my apartment,” he says, moving a hand to stroke your hair, “You’ll be safe here, with me.”

“Is anyone safe with you?”

Aemond frowns, “You are.”

You scoff, “You are killing women who look like me, Aemond. Leaving your little notes at each crime scene, fucking terrorizing me. Is it so far off base to think that you want me dead?”

“You’re the last fucking person on this planet I want dead,” he snaps at you, gripping your chin in his hands, “Get that through your thick skull. I love you. Everything I’ve ever done is for you, for us.”

“Why kill them?” you demand, “Huh? Explain that to me!”

“Because you were never going to see me,” he says quietly, “So I decided I’d make it impossible for you not to. Those girls, I’d be nice to them, pretend they were you, take them home, fuck them while pretended it was you. And then? I’d make a gift of them to you, showing you just how far I was willing to go for your love.”

“A gift?” you sneer, “You sick fuck-”

“Language, sweetheart,” he tuts, “And you know something? I think it was a bit fucked up of you to go on that date with your precious Cregan when I was right fucking there the entire time.”

The mention of Cregan stings for a moment before you put two and two together and gasp, looking up at him, “He didn’t ghost me, did he? You- you killed him!”

A smile plays on Aemond’s lips, “Do you really think I was ever going to let anyone else have you? Ever? No, love, I’m the only one who deserves you. The only one who can treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Do you understand now?”

“I don’t understand shit, you bastard,” you growl, “And now you have me cuffed to a bed? People are gonna come looking for me-”

“Not for another week,” he taunts, “It was really easy to put in a time off request on your laptop and delete the emails without you even noticing. For a special agent, you are quite bad at choosing passwords, love,” you scowl up at him, making him let out a low chuckle as he murmurs, “You look so fucking cute like this. Tied up. At my mercy.”

“You don’t know the meaning of mercy, considering what you’ve done-”

“Do not,” he cuts you off sharply, pressing a finger to your lips, “Act like you’re not the least bit flattered by what I did. Didn’t you say you wanted a man who was willing to kill for you? To die for you?”

You know what he’s referring to. A late night conversation, back in Quantico, while watching some stupid romcom together. Of course he chooses to twist your words to serve his own sick little agenda. The idea makes you seethe with unadulterated fury as you spit at him. Aemond? He just wipes it off and laughs, telling you that he’ll be right back with some food for you.

When he returns, it’s with a bowl of your favorite cereal. And for a moment, you feel yourself soften at his thoughtfulness, you think of him as your best friend, your Aemond. Then you realize he must’ve been planning this for a long time, abducting you, holding you captive in his home. And your eyes harden toward him again, any hint of affection gone.

“So angry,” he says teasingly, bringing the spoon to your mouth, which you reluctantly eat, your need for food overpowering your anger, “There you are, sweet girl. You know,” he chuckles for a moment, “Sometimes I think about how funny it is that I was able to avoid detection even with the handwritten notes. We truly live in an age of technology. I think the notes may have been your first time even seeing my handwriting.”

“That’s why I couldn’t recognize it,” you grumble, “And you wrote in all capital letters. Made it messier, smudged the ink. You knew exactly what to do, how to get away with it. You used me-”

“Don’t you dare say that,” he snaps at you, his eye narrowing, “I’ve used others. But never you. Don’t you ever say that again.”

“You fucking asshole,” you scoff, “You really think I’m just going to be okay with you being a goddamn serial killer? How fucking delusional-”

He cuts you off with a kiss that’s almost bruising, his hands gripping your hips, and you hate yourself for it, but you kiss him back. A part of you feels like kissing him is the most natural thing in the world, that this is what the two of you were meant to do all this time. But good sense prevails and you bite down hard on his lip, enough to make him bleed. However, Aemond? He merely lets out a low groan, his lips capturing yours again, the copper tang of his blood invading your mouth as he gives you another searing kiss.

You realize that the best way of getting out of this alive is playing into his sick little fantasy. And so, you lose yourself in his kiss, deciding to bide your time and wait for the opportune moment to make your escape. Aemond’s hands travel under the fabric of your shirt, squeezing at your tits, moaning as he feels your nipples harden beneath his fingers, pinching at them, squeezing your soft flesh. He moves to sit on his haunches between your legs, lifting them up over his shoulders as he once again buries his face between your thighs. You remind yourself as he stares up at you that you’re doing this to survive. That you’re not enjoying this. But the truth of the matter is you love how it feels. You love the feeling of the cleft of his nose brushing against your clit, the way he grips your thighs hard enough to bruise, how he laps at your folds like a man starved.

Aemond brings you to the edge not once, but twice before shedding his clothes and fucking you, growling into your ear how he’s going to keep fucking you until you have no desire to fight him anymore, until you surrender completely to your need for him, until your cunt and legs are so sore that you won’t even be able to leave the bed. He pounds into you and you can’t even grab onto his hair or arms for purchase, still handcuffed to the bed, entirely at his mercy. And you hate that you love it. You hate him, but more than that you hate yourself for enjoying what he’s doing to you as he spills himself inside you yet again, pushing his fingers inside you, saying that he doesn’t want you to waste one drop of his cum.

The next few days are spent much the same. Aemond fucks you like his life depends on it, he brings you food, he eventually cuffs your hands together and runs you a bath, washing your hair for you. You hate him, and yet, he’s still your Aemond. He insists to you that he would never hurt you. That all he wants is for you to love him the way he loves you, for you to truly see him in the way he needs you to. That everything he’s ever done is for you.

Every day he asks you if you love him, and every day you give him the same answer. A resounding no. And you know you’re lying. You know a part of you has loved him ever since you met him, a part of you that you simply refused to acknowledge, not wanting to lose your best friend.

And a sick, deplorable part of you, one that you won’t ever admit even to yourself, craves the attention he gives you, is impressed by the fact that he has literally killed for you, wanting to earn your love. But you silence that voice inside of you as best as you can, though it grows louder with every kiss he presses to your lips, every soft smile he gives you as he feeds you.

After four days, you finally get your chance to make your escape. Aemond decides he trusts you enough to uncuff you. You decide not to attack straight away, because you know he’s going to be on guard as he takes the cuffs off. He frowns at the sight of your raw wrists, gently massaging them, apologizing, saying that he had no other choice. You pretend to understand, you smile and tell him that’s okay. He kisses your wrists, his finger moving over your pulse point, smiling to himself.

Aemond allows himself to get comfortable with you, deluded into thinking that you want to be here with him. And maybe you do.

When he sleeps beside you, one arm wrapped around your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck, you decide that this is the time to strike. You slide out of his grip, walking toward his kitchen, finding the largest, sharpest knife you can among his belongings. You gaze at your reflection in it for a moment, not recognizing the person staring back at you. You shake your head and return, sliding back into bed, feeling him move to hold you again.

That’s when you strike. You move to straddle him, poising the knife to stab him through the throat. And he just stares up at you, unspeaking, unmoving. Just gazing at you with that one blue eye and one white, almost reverently. You hold the tip of the knife to his throat, though not moving, feeling his hands move to hold your thighs in place.

“You’re beautiful.”

It’s a soft whisper, one that cuts you to the bone. And you know in that moment that you can’t kill him. In spite of everything he’s done, every depraved, awful sin he’s committed, you love him. You’re in love with Aemond, both the man and the monster that lurks within his heart. The monster that sought nothing more than to keep you by his side forever. You toss the knife aside and lean down, pressing your lips to his, tears streaming down your face as you do. You make quick work of Aemond’s pajama pants, sliding them down to reveal his cock to you, moving down to sit between his legs, taking him into your mouth. Aemond lets out a moan of your name as you bob your head up and down on him, hollowing your cheeks as he hits the back of your throat. Aemond resists the urge to buck his hips against your mouth, your plush lips wrapped around the base of his cock looking so goddamn pretty. Instead, he lets you set the pace until he’s nearly at his end, when he pulls you off of him.

“I don’t want to cum anywhere other than inside that perfect cunt,” he growls in your ear.

You move to straddle his waist, sinking down onto his cock with a contented sigh. Aemond sits up, his hands moving to your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside as you begin moving up and down on his length, your breasts bouncing as you do, attracting his attention. Your tits are his weakness, he muses, as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, nipping at it slightly while his hands go to your hips, helping you along.

“I love you,” you admit as you squeeze around his cock, “I don’t care what you’ve done. I hate myself for it, but I love you.”

Aemond groans as your pussy clenches around his cock, impossibly tight, making him feel like he can hardly even move, “Fuck, baby, I love you too. You know I do. I’d kill for you. I’d die for you.”

He spills himself inside you again, making you moan his name as you fall down against him, exhausted. He holds you tightly, kissing your forehead, your cheeks, cupping your face in his hands.

“I’m a monster,” he admits, “But I’m your monster.”

“I know,” you whisper, closing your eyes and allowing sleep to claim you once again.