SHE'S A GOOD GIRL
FEZCO'S MASTERLIST
Summary: They say opposites attract, and it's true, because Fezco can't help but be completely in love with Y/N, his good girl.
! | smut, vaginal and unprotected sex, aftercare, fluff, kinda ooc fezco cause i don't know how to write him, yn being the typical good girl and all that shit. NO SPOILERS OF SEASON 2.
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Even though Rue could be a pain in the ass at times, Fezco couldn't help but be completely grateful to her for one thing.
She had introduced him to Y/N.
She was Rue's cousin, and she had moved to town, and today, five months later, she was in his bed, curled up in her stupidly childish pajamas while watching an episode of some bad TV series.
He was sitting beside her, finishing counting the bills he had received in his last deal, turning from time to time to check on her.
He finally finishes doing the math and puts the bundles of bills in a bag under the bed, and throws himself against his pillow, sighing and with his eyes closed allowing himself a moment of peace and calm.
Y/N looks at him and turns off the TV to have all her attention on him. He's so cute, with his freckled cheeks and long eyelashes resting on that soft skin, he doesn't look like a fucking drug dealer.
She takes the audacity to crawl over to him and climb into his lap, eliciting a smile from her boyfriend, who caresses her hips with his calloused hands.
"I missed you." She tells him, moving closer to his face to leave kisses on his cheeks. "Took you long enough to count those bills."
"Sorry, ma." He replies, opening his eyes and looking up at the girl above him, thinking about what he had done to deserve her. "Yo, I'm all yours now."
Y/N seems to like the idea, and she would've started a back-and-forth with her hips to heat things up, but she's embarrassed.
Before Fezco, she knew nothing, had done nothing, with anyone. And he took the time to teach her and show her that she didn't have to be ashamed to talk about things as natural as sex and what she enjoyed, but still, traces of the old Y/N are still lost within her being.
Fez notices the change of attitude in her, and with his hands on her hips, he moves them back and forth, stimulating them both.
"I got you, baby." He tells her, and lifts off his back to sit up so he can have her face to face.
She smiles with closed lips, and moves in to kiss him, she gives her all in that kiss, and although she's not perfect yet, her boyfriend helps her in every way he can. She can't help but moan at the taste of weed and mint in his mouth, it was addictive.
There comes a moment when Fezco doesn't need to move his hips, and she can go on alone, moaning from the friction of the fabrics and the growing bulge against her clit.
"Fezâ" She gasps as she feels his mouth on her neck, biting her soft spot and making her shudder thanks to his beard. "Please."
"Please what, mama?" he replies, squeezing her ass between his hands and bracing her more against his hard cock already. "Tell me and you'll have it."
He wants to give her everything, he's completely wrapped up in this girl and would give up everything for her.
Y/N remains silent, her cheeks flushed, and Fezco feels a spur in his lower half at the sight of her eyes drowning in complete innocence and embarrassment.
"C'mon, you can do it." He encourages her.
She looks up at him with a little pout, and with a sweet voice says.
"I want you to fuck me, please."
And he, looking at the contrast between the two of them, seeing how she looked like a princess out of a fairy tale, and he the villain or a simple nobody, can't say no to her.
He nods his head, and slams his mouth against hers, making her gasp in surprise allowing him to slip his tongue into her mouth, brushing it against hers.
He takes her by the waist and turns them around, leaving her under him, and still kissing her, he slides a hand down her body, until he reaches her pajama shorts where he slips his hand and feels the heat emanating from that sacred area for him.
He swears that until he met Y/N, he was a fucking virgin.
"Ah, Fez." She moans, feeling her boyfriend's fingers caress her clit above the fabric to then slip his full hand inside her panties, feeling the warm area.
He runs his index finger up and down the length of her cunt, pooling her wetness which he then draws into his mouth and licks. "Fuck."
He continues to stimulate her until she's completely ready to have him inside her, and pulls away from her so they can both take off what clothes they have on.
Y/N quickly wraps her arms around his neck, stroking his shaved head making him smile. "I love you."
His girl, she was so sweet. "I love you more, baby."
He leaves kisses all over her body, neck, breasts, belly, until he comes back up to be face to face with her, and begins to thrust his cock inside her.
Fezco is delighted at the sight in front of him, watching his angel of a girlfriend arch her back, close her eyes and open her mouth in a full 'O' as she feels him fill her up perfectly.
When he's all the way in, he waits until she tells him he can move, and begins slow but deep thrusts that take Y/N's breath away.
"Fez, baby." She moans as he begins to quicken the speed of his hips. "God."
He continues to leave kisses on her face and neck, and grunts as he feels her walls squeeze and suck him exquisitely, as if he was meant to be there.
He's getting faster and faster, so fast that if it weren't for the fact that the bed was somewhat separated from the wall, it would start crashing into it.
He's thankful Ash wasn't home, because the moans coming out of Y/N's mouth aren't half as sacred as she is.
He senses that he's close to cum, so he slides one of his hands down to her clit, and begins to stroke it rapidly.
"Cum with me." He tells her, watching her fucked face, knowing he's the only one who ever saw and will see her like this.
She nods and clings to him, desperate to feel that relief, and when Fezco lets out a grunt and cums inside her, she can't help but be behind him.
He smiles as he watches her face contract from her orgasm, and continues to leave little kisses on her face, knowing that now, in this moment, he's not the tough guy he usually is.
He slowly pulls out of her, and begins to wipe her with the damp towel she had used earlier when she bathed, making her moan from the overstimulation.
"I know, I know." He says, tossing the towel across the room. "You did so good, ma' best girl."
Y/N snuggles her head into his chest, fiddling with his chain and smiling as she feels him try to snuggle as much as possible to her as well.
Fezco strokes her hair, smiling with his gaze fixed on the ceiling, thinking that it wasn't possible that someone miserable like him, could have someone as good as her. But it was, and he knew they were perfect for each other.
This really was heaven, and he had managed to get in before they closed the door.
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Amusement (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)
Pairing : Aemond x Female!Strong!Reader
Request : Hi can I request a Aemond fic where the reader is Rhanerya and Harwinâs daughter. And this takes place in episode 8 when Luke and Jace visit the pit where aemond is fighting and itâs when he asks if they have come to train and the reader and him fight. (Oh and can she have white hair cause Iâm obsessed thank u.)
Word count : 1480
Warnings : Aemond being a sassy little shit, slight mention of blood and violence, choking.
He almost looks otherworldly. His movements are quick, precise and more than anything, elegant. His long silver hair shines like satin as he dodges Ser Cristonâs sword once again, the sun caressing his frame in the middle of the training yard. The patch covering his scarred left eye only makes him more mysterious - intimidating, even - and makes the ease with which he supplants one of the best swordsmen on the continent even more baffling. And most importantly, it reminds you of the day he got it, six years ago.
You were only a child then, in fact you all were. When the shocking fight between your brothers, Jace and Luke, and your then much smaller uncle ended in such a tragic way, everything changed for the worst. The bonds that had begun to unravel were broken, and both sides of the family drifted apart. That night, before he left to return to Kingâs Landing, and despite all the animosity and hatred surrounding you, you silently held his hand. All that mattered to the innocent child you were was that as he closed an eye forever, Aemond, for once, wasnât alone.
And here he is now, tall and agile, endowed with a grace that is rarely seen in a man. Something in the way he moves makes you shiver, or perhaps it is the result of the disturbing beauty that age has given his elongated features. âNephews,â he greets, his eye landing on them as his body remains otherwise steady. âHave you come to train ?â He questions, causing your brothers to exchange such worried looks that you notice it even from the other side of the circle.
As people's attention slowly shifts away from the barely finished fight, you feel it coming to focus on Jace and Luke. The whispers had become a habit, the questioning of the blood that runs through the veins of Princess Rhaenyra's children has grown greatly over the years as your brothers have become more and more spitting images of the late Ser Harwin. It must have been gods-given luck that your hair was as white as snow, for you knew that you shared the same father. Thanks to this, some think you really are the daughter of Rhaenyra and Laenor, and so a few think that your brothers might be so too despite their appearances, but most people sense the truth. You wouldn't mind if it only affected you, but you couldn't bear your family being disrespected.Â
âActually, I did.â The Targaryen Princeâs back is still facing you as you speak, youâre practically certain he hasnât noticed you yet. Youâre still not really sure if you indeed want to fight him, challenge that boy you used to know, or if you just wanted to silence all of them whispering idiots, but as he slowly turns around to face you, you know thereâs no way to escape now.Â
Suddenly, youâre surrounded by nothing but silence. Your gaze is fixed on his, you find yourself unable to detach from it, almost as if he had cast a spell on you. He studies your face, probably trying to remember the features he once knew, but he does so in such an intense and unabashed way that you can already feel the fire growing in your stomach, and your palms becoming sweaty. After your face and your neck, it is on your body that the blue gaze lingers : the leather dress bequeathed by your mother, worn on the day she killed a boar, seems to be to his liking. Once his precise analysis is complete, the sharpest of smirks crosses Aemondâs face as all you see in his eye is challenge, curiosity, and above all, danger.
âVery well,â he mutters, just loud enough to be heard. âShall we ?â He asks, spreading his arms as an invitation to join him.Â
âMy Lady you shouldnât-â Ser Criston warns, or at least tries to, walking your way holding his hand out before being quickly interrupted by your opponentâs silvery voice.
âMy dear nieceâs desires are orders, Ser Criston.â He smirks, still focused on you, not bothering to look at Cole. âGive her a fucking sword.â He commands, and the brown haired knight complies.Â
The sword he hands you is long and heavy, but it isnât the first time youâve raised one, far from that. Seeing the boys train made you want to master the art of sword fighting too, and it wouldnât be lying to say you became the best fighter out of your siblings. However, it seems it will take more than skill to compete with your opponent : you have to take him by surprise. So, as your hands wrap around the handle, you let the swordâs weight bring it down, pretending it is too heavy for you to raise. As expected, this is greeted by chuckles from the attentive crowd, and a raised eyebrow from the silver haired Prince.Â
âFor some reason, I assumed youâd be strong enough to wield this sword.â He provokes, a proud grin on his face. Taking advantage of this fraction of a second where he is distracted by his own provocation, and also of the rage that it awakens in you despite yourself, you raise your sword and charge straight at him, in a movement as sure as it is precise. You feel his surprise when your swords clash, your gazes meet again, and that stupid smile of his only widens. He's proud of himself, he knows his words got to you, and that is enough to drive you mad in this instant. You growl as you lift your sword once more, hitting him again and again while he dodges, forming an intricate choreography to the rhythm of your anger. The more he manages to avoid your attacks, the more you come at him, feeling the heat grow more and more on your cheeks.
âOne could think you seem offended,â he states after stepping aside for an instant. âDo be careful,â he continues, bending down as your weapon brushes over his head. âDriven by such vigor, you could get hurt.â
You scoff, taking a step back to catch your breath, now both of you walking in a circle, playfully yet seriously studying each other. Both can play this little game, and you know exactly what to say to awake the sleeping dragon in him.
âDonât worry, my Prince, thereâs more to me than meets the eye.â You grin, brushing some dirt off your chin with your sleeve. âYouâd see it if only you bothered to pig-, I mean, to dig a little deeper.â You wink and his look darkens, his jaw clenched and his knuckles turning white around the handle of his sword. âOopsâ, you mimic, now facing a both enraged and somehow amused Aemond. Yet you thank the Gods he only has an eye, for two of those knives throwing blue irises would have killed you in an instant.Â
You donât have more time to think before heâs charging towards you, a swift movement of his sword disarming you before you can even react. His strength sends you flying a few feet behind and when you get back up again, he throws his own weapon and walks fast towards you, then firmly grabs your neck with his bare hand, pressing his chest against yours. Your hands come to cover his but his grip is strong, as he warns Criston and your brothers not to intervene with a single raise of his free hand, without having to say a word.Â
Aemondâs heart beats loud against yours, his gaze rapidly switching from one of your eyes to the other, his nostrils flared by his furious breathing. His body is so close to yours you can smell his sweat and his musky scent, your eyes locked on his, refusing to surrender or beg for him to release you. That cocky bastard would love that way too much. Instead, you put more pressure on his hand, making him choke you harder. His jaw clenches once more at this, as he releases a carnal growl. Aemondâs lips turn into a pleased smirk, and he finally releases some pressure, allowing you to breathe again.Â
âI did not expect much, but Iâll admit I feel some kind ofâŚâ he whispers as he pauses for a second, only to rub the delicate trace of blood from the corner of your mouth with his thumb, before bringing it to his lips, allowing the divine taste of the scarlet liquid to slip on his tongue, "... amusement."
You canât control the shivers that run down your spine, nor can you help but to bite your lip to prevent a pleased moan from escaping your mouth. âI can feel that amusement growing in your pants,â you whisper back, and you could have sworn that as you broke free of his grip, you saw fire burning in his eye.Â
please please let me know if you liked this, feedback is highly appreciated ⥠:)
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