#throne of glass Manon blackbeak | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

throneofsmut · 18 days

Text

Just Breathe

Poly! Manorian x Female Reader

Description: Things get heated between Manon and reader and Dorian joins. Based off this request.

Warnings: Poly! smut, slight voyeurism, breath play and choking (I think that's it).

Word Count: 1.9k

Author's Note: sorry this took so long I kept rewriting it (this is my 2nd time writing a poly fic that i can remember) 😭😭and I think this is the best it's gonna get but to the anon that requested it I hope you like it 😖 !! and I'm working on the last request and it'll go up in a few hours !!

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You were sparring with the training dummy in the training room of the Glass Castle, for hours now. And yet still you showed no sign of stopping or slowing down.

A gift and a curse from being the most powerful pure-blooded fae female in existence. Regardless if you were still in your early 20s.

Your cousin Rowan Whitethorn, the King Consort of Terrasen, trained you himself when you were a child. Only he was able to understand what it's like to have such powerful and vast magic thrumming in your veins, because he’s the same.

He knows how important it is for you to be able to control it instead of letting it control you. Rowan also trained you in weaponry and in combat, in case you couldn’t access your magic.

But, he also taught you the importance of training because of how powerful you are and the importance of not overwhelming yourself with your magic by letting it out in small bursts.

By releasing it in small bursts, you can manage it more effectively and avoid potential dangers or unintended consequences. You can still hear his deep voice now, loud and clear in your head, “It's like releasing pressure slowly from a valve to ensure everything stays under control.”

Which is what you were doing now.

Every blow you landed against the training dummy, powerful, calculated and merciless. Lethal. Had they been a real enemy. While simultaneously letting out small waves of ice-kissed wind around you and into the room.

Then you felt her—your magic always alerting you when she was near. The witch who stole half your heart. Manon Blackbeak the Queen of Witches.

And if she was here then the one who stole the other half of your heart was close by. Dorian Havilliard the King of Adarlan.

“I’ll be up soon,” you told her without stopping raining down blows on the training dummy.

“Don’t bother,” she replied. That made you stop but you still didn’t turn to face her. “It’s almost midday,” she continued, sounding closer this time and you relaxed.

You finally turned to face her and noted that she was already dressed for the day and that she was right. If the sunlight pouring in from the ajar door behind her was any proof. “Huh. . . I guess I lost track of time.” Again, you didn’t have to add, seeing as this happens more often than not.

“Hmm.” Manon hummed, taking a couple more steps closer before stopping in the middle of the room and taking off her tunic, in the training ring. Her gold eyes never leave your chest watching as it rises and falls steadily while you try to catch your breath.

Her gaze darkening when she takes in the fact that your white shirt is practically see through from sweat. You can’t help but smirk, “See something you like?”

She shakes her head, smirking back. “Step into the ring. If you want to keep training, I’ll train with you.” Gold eyes flick down to your hands in a pointed glance. “Unless you want to keep bleeding?” Looking down at your hands, you realize that your knuckles are bruised, cut and bloody.

Brows furrowing as you look over your shoulder at the training dummy; all the hay that once filled it is on the floor, the fabric in tatters and the wood is splintered from where you kept hitting it. “All right, witchling, do your worst.” You challenge as you prowl onto the fighting mat.

“With pleasure, faeling.” She grins as she settles into a fighting stance. You mirror her actions and the second you nod at her, she lunges.

The both of you go back forth for a while trying to pin the other to no avail. “Come on, sweetheart,” you run your tongue on your lips tauntingly, “are you tired already?” You bait her and she takes it, lunging, giving you the opening you need to pin her to the mat.

Your hips settle directly atop of hers, your hands wrapping around her wrists, keeping them and her pinned to the mat. You lean forward using your weight as leverage so she can’t buck you off. She lifts her head as best she can, her eyes flicking to your lips, “Why don’t you just kiss me already?”

You know she’s trying to bait you, eyes flicking from her gold ones to her lips and to her heaving chest. “I’ll kiss you if you can pin me.” Her eyes narrow at your words but she smiles—a smile only reserved for you and Dorian.

Manon tries to buck you off again but you hold firm, chuckling as she struggles, your lips parting to speak but before you can get a word out your magic alerts you of his presence. Dorian. Unconsciously your head turns, to find him looking at you and Manon with amusement.

Giving the witch Queen the opportunity to flip you both so you’re pinned beneath her. She flashes you a wicked smirk, her own eyes glinting and then she’s kissing you. Your lips parting in a moan that she swallows before letting out a moan of her own as you deepen the kiss.

The both of you pull away at the same time, panting softly when you hear his deep sensual voice, “Done already?” You both open your mouths to respond when invisible hands rove over and in between your bodies, earning breathy whines from you. “Tired?” he questions.

Manon grinds against you, both of you letting out soft moans at the feeling and from the way Dorian’s using his magic on you. An invisible hand roving over both of your tits, palming and squeezing before sliding up, and wrapping around your throat—squeezing.

Through half lidded eyes you see Manon arch her back and tilt her head back, proving she feels the same thing. “Can you keep going. . . yes or no?” Dorian asks again, his voice low with desire and commanding.

“Yes.” You both breathe and the hands wrapped around your throats squeezes harder.

“Good girls,” the King praises. Your head turns towards him when you hear sure and steady footfalls getting closer. He flashes you a lazy grin, vibrant blue eyes flickering over both of your forms before he tuts, shaking his head. “Both of you are wearing too much clothes.”

His fingers make quick work of removing his own clothes while his magic makes quick work of removing both of yours. “Come here,” he murmurs to the both of you as he stands in the middle of the mat. You both move to stand before him and then he commands you to lay down.

Once your back is flat against the mat he kneels between your legs and leans over you to kiss you, once. Hungrily—a warning of what’s to come. Then he’s commanding Manon. “Sit on her face, witchling.” Dorian’s lips wrapping around your clit the same time Manon straddles your face.

You part her folds that were glistening with arousal with a pointed tongue, flicking it against her clit while Dorian sucked yours harshly. “Oh, gods!” Manon cried out as her hips bucked but you clamped your hands around her thighs, keeping her in place.

Her hips jerking everytime you moaned against her sensitive bundle of nerves from your princeling sucking and swirling his tongue over your clit while fucking you with long deft fingers. The both of you, writhing and moaning messes while nearly falling over the edge.

Then he curled them inside you, hitting the spot that sent you over the edge everytime and you came with a lewd moan that sent Manon over the edge with you while you sucked her clit. She was still trembling when she rolled off of you.

Dorian was still working you through your orgasm with his fingers when he sat on his knees between your legs. Invisible fingers pinching and rolling your hardened nipples, others gripping your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze as you come undone beneath his touch.

You could still hear Manon cry out from pleasure and you had no doubt invisible hands were bringing her pleasure in waves. One orgasm blending into two and two to three.

Dorian was the image of pure male satisfaction as he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean. His free hand rubbing the head of his cock against your folds, making your hips jerk and then he pushed in inch by inch. Stretching you out. Kissing you, your neck, swirling his tongue over your nipples as you adjusted to him.

You rolled your hips letting him know he could move and his ring adorned hand wrapped around your throat, “Careful, faeling. I’m fucking you right now. Not the other way around.” You whined at his words as his hips snapped at a brutal pace.

“F-fuck. . . oh!” you rasped out. “You feel so good!”

He threw his head back in a groan at the praise. But then, his head snapped towards the door, hips never faltering. And that’s when you heard it, heavy footsteps walking by at the end of the corridor. Probably one of the royal guards. Maybe Chaol.

Your back arching as you let out a sharp moan at the thought of being heard, being caught with your lovers.

Dorian squeezed harder, “You want them to see you getting fucked? Hmm?” He slapped one of your tits earning another moan. “You want them to see you getting treated like the pretty slut that you are, my little faeling.” You nodded desperately and he chuckled darkly, “then take it.”

His large hands moved to grip your hips and you greedily gulped down air, as he pounded into you mercilessly. He leaned back on his haunches slightly changing the angle and your walls clenched around his cock in response.

You felt pressure building at the base of your spine and knew you were going to dissolve into pleasure again. Your legs instinctively wrapped around him and his hips began to stutter.

He wrapped a ring adorned hand around your throat again, squeezing until you saw stars and then he leaned down. His warm breath tickling your sensitive pointed ear, “Just breathe,” he taunted then he let go. His words, the last thing you heard as you fell over the edge.

Moments later you felt his cock twitch inside you and then he was spilling himself into you. Hips jerking as he worked both of you through your orgasm.

You felt him kiss you and then your forehead and then he pulled out.

Through your heart pounding in your ears you heard Manon crying out for him and it was all you could do to open your eyes and look at them. Manon was on her hands and knees and Dorian was behind her.

Fucking her mercilessly.

The only noises you could hear were obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin, Manon’s breathy moans and Dorian’s low raspy groans. Your body was still trembling when Manon wrapped a pale hand around your ankle and pulled you towards her, so your cunt was right in front of her face.

Still panting from your orgasm when she gave you a feral grin, “Just breathe, sweetheart.” She teased you with the same nickname you had taunted her with earlier and started eating you out.

You screamed out as your body jolted from the overstimulation but that only spurred her on. Your back arching as she moaned against your clit. You could already feel another orgasm building and from the way they were both moaning and groaning you knew they were too.

And not even a minute later all three of you came at the same time. Each other’s names on your lips in a plea or prayer you couldn’t tell.

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