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rubyanddragon · 2 months ago

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OMMGGGG

SHIERA MAKES AN APPEARANCE I KNEW IT !

Be Strong My Heart

ꕥseries masterlist & taglist ⋆. 𐙚 ˚regular masterlist ✧₊⁺AO3

⟢summary: After she gives birth, she has a fun night with her husband. Until it is ruined by reminders of her past and possible future.

⟢pairing: Original Female Character x Original Male Character x Dark! Book Aemond Targaryen.

⟢warnings: mentions of Aemond only, mentions of past trauma (inflicted by Aemond), OC is latina, OC name reveal!, make out sesh, aphrodisiacs made by a witch, palm reading, Oral F receiving, P in V sex, and plot twist at the end.

⟢wc: 4,103

⟢gif credit: @thiskryptonite

⟢notes:This is a drabble to my main story Only If For A Night. So future spoilers!!!! I've decided to skip the birthing part of this story for later lol. World building details are heavy in this drabble 👀

Two months after she’d given birth, her abuela, Selena, suggested for her and Armando to take a little break from their little one.

While normally any parent would be overjoyed at the given opportunity of having a night out, she felt the opposite.

The twenty-five year old had a strong instinct to keep her baby at least in line of sight and in arms’ reach at all times. Even going as far as using the bathroom and cooking with him all while attached to her hip or on a sling.

Selena disapproved of this, saying the baby will grow to be unusually clingy to her at all times as he gets older and that now was as good a time as any to get a little separation.

Even if it was for one night.

As a result, Armando surprised her by gifting her a flowy and bright red dress that ended right below her knees. The color accentuated not only her tanned skin but every inch of her curves.

And there were many new curves, now that she became a first time mother.

Selena helped curl her hair as well as adding a bit of eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick as the color of her dress. While Armando made the bold choice of cutting his lengthy curls that she came to adore so much.

The Mexican heat was no joke, though. She too, wanted to cut her hair to at least shoulder length but she quite enjoyed braiding her hair in all sorts of different styles to do so.

After the couple finished getting ready, they both said their short goodbyes to their son and it took everything in her to not cry and stay home.

“He’ll be alright, cariño.” Armando reassured as he drew small soothing circles at the back of her hand. “Selena knows what she’s doing and she even said that if anything happens, she’ll give us a call.”

She knows this. Selena made her aware, before they left, that she managed to raise four children, with Vidalio to occasionally help whenever he wasn’t working.

“I know, it’s just…” she stopped walking to sit on a nearby bench with Armando trailing behind her.

Armando’s brown eyes deeply looked up to her with concern. “It’s because of him, isn’t it?” He whispered with a hint of anger lacing his tone.

Armando Flores never considered himself a man of anger or violence, but when it came to Aemond Targaryen, he did not mind going to jail for brutally killing his white ass after the trauma he caused his wife.

Whenever the twenty-five year old wasn’t working or helping taking care of their son, he practiced his fighting skills outside in his makeshift gym, using a sword his wife called Blackfyre. The sword felt appropriate in his hand, and Armando came to love the intricate metal work.

Apparently it was made from a special type of magical steel that originated in Old Valyria.

Wherever the hell that was.

In his anger, he pictured using Blackfyre against Aemond Targaryen.

“It’s highly unlikely that he’ll come here; Alys said so.” Armando consoled. “It’s been almost a year, and if he hasn’t come it’s because Alys did something right.”

A part of her wanted to tell Armando that he was a fool to place his trust on Alys.

The Witch Queen had been a good help during the last few weeks of her pregnancy. Although she accepted her help, she couldn’t help but to feel wary of her. Rightfully so.

But her distrust with Alys spiked higher when the green eyed woman cradled her son, minutes after he was born, and whispered: “my baby.”

Since then, she felt as if Alys was hiding something. So she kept the medieval witch in arms length.

“Or he’s waiting for the perfect moment to come,” she added rather quietly. She felt paranoid and scared that something or someone was lingering nearby just waiting to take her and her son to the world she escaped from and back to the arms of the man she loathed.

Armando lifted her chin with his hands, gazing upon the panicked look in her eyes. “Listen to me and know this. I will never let that pinche puto come and take my family. Not now and not ever. I will fight for us until my last dying breath. You are safe with me. Do you understand?”

She never witnessed this impassioned side of Armando before and she could perceive that he meant every word besottedly.

She nodded as her eyes trailed to his lips then to his deep dark brown eyes. It was unclear who kissed who first, it did not matter. She kissed her true husband back with equal passion.

Somewhere between steamy kisses, loud cheers followed by lewd whistling were heard from in front of them causing the couple to blush from the apples of their cheeks to the tips of their ears.

“¡Consíganse un cuarto!”

She pulled away and hid her face in Armando’s chest as he laughed in return. “That sounds like a good idea. Right, cariño?” Armando teased, tickling her sides.

She hummed following his playful manner, “perhaps we will tonight. It’s been so long since I’ve had a ride.”

It took approximately thirty minutes of convincing Armando to not go back to their home after that comment.

Her husband made it clear that he would get her back for that. Honestly she couldn’t wait.

Instead, she redirected his attention towards the busy streets of the Oaxacan City. Almost every street was filled with tourists, waiting to get a glimpse of the soon to be Dia De Los Muertos parade.

Armando commented that some of the locals weren’t particularly fond of them, saying that some –if not all– raised the prices on goods and treated the natives rudely.

“They’re in our land enjoying the food, festivities, and our hospitality and yet they have our people deported. It doesn’t sound right, does it?”

No it did not.

Armando then led her away from the town square, into a part of the city where there were no tourists in sight.

Laughter and loud music filled her ears from every establishment. So much so that her body began to sway into the rhythm of every music.

But one song in particular caught her attention. She recognized the song as one of her favorites from childhood.

It was Myriam Hernández’s El Hombre Que Yo Amo.

“Do you like this song?” Armando asked once he noticed his love stopped walking all together.

She flashed him a sad smile. “Yea. It was mi abuelo’s favorite song. He’d always put it on just for mi abuela to sing it to him.” Selena always sang beautifully better than any artist she ever heard. And because of this Vidalio, seized every opportunity to play any song just to hear her sing.

“I bet you miss him. I know I do.”

“Yes, I do.”

For the next several minutes, they greeted a few of Armando’s work friends and their wives, as they too longed to get away from tourists. Naturally, they invited her and Armando to a dance hall well known for playing good music in all of the city.

However, she wasn’t one bit bothered by the warnings of her husband’s friends when they told her that the hall happened to be constantly crowded by many people.

So she followed their small group into a small white building that she could see was filled to the brim with multiple people. Martin, whom Armando whispered was his boss’ son, got the six of them inside free of charge and without the expense of waiting in line that wrapped two streets over.

Armando attempted to at least offer Martin money for the tickets but the raven haired man declined. Yet, Armando went as far to pay for drinks but Martin disclosed that they sold nothing but cheap beer.

He instead told them to enjoy the night as his wife, Ariana, dragged him towards the front of the dance floor.

“So what do you feel like dancing to, cariño?” Armado asked, close to her ear. “At this point anything.” She said as she playfully kissed the tip of his nose.

There were three floors to the club. From cumbias, norteñas, bachatas, and salsas they danced it all in a span of three very short hours. She almost didn’t want to leave if not for the heel breaking apart in the middle of the dance floor.

The pair laughed it off, taking it as a sign to go home back to their little one. They said their goodbyes to Armando’s work friends before they left and took up on their offer to come back around the same time next week.

With her heel broken, Armando hoisted her up bridal style, unbothered by her sheer weight and carried her all throughout an isolated beach.

The fresh breeze made for a perfect cooling. Their dancing had left them feeling warmer than ever.

More than anything she craved a cool bath.

The beach right beside them was tempting.

“Oh look, there's a bar right over there. Wanna get a drink?”

She gestured to her broken heel as a reply, which made Armado chuckle. “I’ll still carry you in, unless they have a shoe policy.”

She giggled as they made their way inside the bar. Right away, she was hit by a cloud of smoke. Though, not of cigarettes but incense.

The interior of the bar was the same as the exterior; with bright red walls. At the very top shelf of drinks, was a painted sign of the establishment’s name.

El Bar del Dragon.

The Dragon’s Bar.

“Bienvenidos!”

A tall figure greets as it steps out of a beaded curtain behind the bar.

A woman.

She stood wearing a long metallic lilac dress with endless amounts of silver jewelry on her wrists and fingers. But the one piece of jewelry that caught her eye the most was the heavy silver necklace decorating her around neck opulently with star like sapphires and emeralds.

Once, she considered Alys to be the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. However, the woman standing just a few feet away was in fact more beautiful.

Goddess like.

The woman wore a headscarf, covering her hair but a single loose blonde curl hung down from the sides. A beaded veil concealed the lower half of her face, with only her mismatched eyes exposed to her viewing.

She heard Armando suck in a breath beside her. He too was frozen by the woman’s appearance.

“¿En qué les puedo ayudar?” The woman asked as she placed two coasters on the bar table. “El especial de hoy es un cóctel para los enamorados. Hecho con granadas y especias picantes.”

Armando glanced between the woman and his wife, before he sat her on a bar stool beside him.

“T-that sounds good to me,” Armando stuttured, avoiding the woman’s stare. “Y tu, cariño?”

“I’ll have the same.”

Once the woman occupied herself by preparing the drinks, she peered over at Armando. Her poor husband looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“Are you okay?” She questioned, placing her hand on his bouncing thigh causing him to jolt up with wide eyes. “You were staring pretty hard…at her.”

There was an odd feeling in her chest. It was deep and twisting with rage and anxiety. And it took her a while to realize that the feeling was jealousy.

Armando shook his head rapidly. “Oh, no. It’s not that, cariño.” She gave him a look which made him glance back at the woman momentarily before he lowered himself to her height.

“I don’t know what it is but she looks like you.” Armando whispers.

“What?!” She says a little too loudly.

“—A lover’s cocktail for you both.” The woman announced as she placed their two red drinks on the table.

Just when she was going to briefly thank the woman, she suddenly grabbed ahold of her hand to admire the wedding ring that Armando had placed on her finger.

“This is such a beautiful ring. Where I come from, pearls are said to be a dragon’s tear. A very powerful little gem.”

The veiled woman couldn’t proceed with her praises towards the comely ring as her eyes landed on another certain ring.

“Oh, but this one! This is the most exquisite one. A sapphire such as this one is a very rare find. Your husband must love you greatly.”

Armando had not given her that ring.

In fact it was Aemond who did almost a year ago.

Discarding the ring was a plausible option. If not for the fact that the wedding ring was actually Selena’s own wedding ring when she married Vidalio.

It was a great mystery how her grandmother’s wedding ring inexplicably disappeared just days before she was transported to Westeros and then suddenly reappeared the night that Aemond forcefully married her.

Because of this, she could not be rid of it.

She told herself multiple times that the ring served as a reminder of both of her grandparents whom she loved rather than that delusional puto that traumatized her horribly.

“You have such interesting hands. Might I have a look?” The woman inquired a little too enthusiastically.

She narrowed her eyes on her. A sense of uncertainty and curiousness clouds her mind.

“You mean to read my palm?”

The woman simply nods. “Yes. However, I could always be wrong about these things.”

Alys offered once to do this to her, but she declined as her distrust for the witch grew each day.

Though, this woman was a stranger who knew absolutely nothing about her. If anyone was going to read her fate, it would be her rather than Alys who could alter it without her consent as she had done so in the past.

“Alright.”

The woman brought her hand closer to the light and began to examine her palm extensively, caressing the planes and lines around her palm.

Every so often she’d hum and glanced at her confusingly, and she thought perhaps she found something about the one person she didn’t want to know of.

“Well, I am indeed right about your hands being interesting. There are strange patterns I’ve only seen once in a young woman many years ago. Yours are more… challenging to make out.” She clicks her tongue before she analyzes around her thumb area. “For starters, you are strong minded and born with a warrior’s heart within. Which comes in hand for the challenges you are about to face. And because of these difficult trials you’ve been bestowed gifts from your lineage.”

She, then, proceeds to chuckle and raise her brow at her. “There’s a great elevation surrounding your mount venus which means there’s a substantial amount of passion in your bed.”

She couldn’t help but to feel herself blush at the woman’s confession.

“Your life line’s disrupted or torn and there’s bits and pieces in the past, present, and future all intertwined.” The woman pauses as she glances between her and Armando, who sat eerily quiet or intrigued.

“The marriage line is split between two marriages. But they don’t appear to be…broken.”

The skepticism and curiousness within her morphs into fear, like every single strand of hair in her arms stands.

She means to pull her hand away, but she can detect that the woman senses what she’s feeling and twists her hand to the side for another look.

“On a positive note, you will birth many children—”

“—That’s enough.” She speaks before she had the chance to continue.

The room somehow feels a little harder to breathe and she takes her hand away, offering the woman a glare. She swears she sees a faint–knowing smirk through the beaded veil.

She never took to notice the color of her eyes. One dark blue and one bright green. She had the faintest memory of seeing them before.

“Armando, vamonos.”

Her husband stands and offers the woman a couple of pesos from his pocket before he follows his wife outside without so much as bidding a farewell to the woman.

They walked along the coast in complete silence the rest of the way home.

She tried to set aside what the woman had concealed at the back of her mind as if what she said didn’t mean anything to her.

Knowing how she is, every detail that the woman said would keep her up at night. Another endless cycle of attempting to tell herself that Aemond and his wrath would not come for her and her husband and son.

Just before Armando reached the handle of their back door, she stopped him.

“I don’t want to go back in yet,” she said. “I have something I want to say something before our night ends.”

Armando nodded as he followed her back into the beach.

“I know things could always change, but when he comes—”

“—He won’t.”

She nodded, understandingly. “If he does. I won’t let him tear us apart. I will fight for us too.”

Her eyes searches for his and even through the moonlight, she finds his own full of warmth and adoration.

She is nearly chest to chest with him, and she brings both of her arms up to press herself against him. She feels his heart speeding faster as she stands on her tippy toes and closes the very little gap between them into a hungry kiss.

Armando’s hands rest on her hips as he parts his mouth open to dance his tongue with hers. She faintly the taste of pomegranates and a spice that sparks a fire from within.

She gasps for air as she breaks their kiss and takes a glance at the beach in front of them. An idea forms into her mind, making no attempt to dissuade herself.

“What are you doing?” Armando breathes, watching his wife unbutton the rest of his shirt.

“I want you,” she answers, tracing his tanned muscles, relinquishing the soft sighs that leaves his lips.

Armando’s fists the skirt of her dress, eyes momentarily landing on the full rounded shape of her breasts.

“You’ve been ogling them all night,” she points out, reaching behind her to loosen the ribbon that held the dress together. Then all at once she lets the dress pool down at her feet, Armando’s eyes widened at the lovely bare sight of her flesh.

“Is this why you picked this dress?” She hums as she brings his palms to rest and squeeze each breast.

“P-partially.” He admits, adorning each breast with kisses and bites before he kneels right in front of her figure and slides of her underwear off along the pile of clothes. “But also because you look breathtaking in red.”

She but all mewls as Armando kisses her center, dragging his tongue until it begins to unabashedly lick her wetness, causing her hips to jerk more to his face.

She find it impossible to stand as sweet pleasure consumes her lower belly. Her husband realizes this in between licks and places one of her hands on his curls and the other on his shoulder for support.

He moans at her pleasant taste that he’d been deprived of for so long. She was so wet and sweet for that he finds it hard to ever want to stop.

“I’m so close,” she pants as she presses Armando’s head closer to her cunt. There’s a part of her that misses the feeling of his beard and mustache between her legs. Making a mental small note to herself to never let him shave again.

What comes next makes her mouth drop open, almost falling to edge of euphoria as Armando inserts a finger inside of her then another, pumping and curling it upwards to that spot that is throbbing full of need.

She tries to say his name, to warn him that she’s about to release but all Armando does is lick, suckle her bud and pumps his fingers faster.

She knows Armando senses it by the way her legs shake and are unable to keep herself up, with loud whines and pants filling his ears.

Armando’s lascivious eyes were on her the entire as she fell apart all for him and he drank her honeyed release like a man starved.

Once he knew his wife was cleaned enough by his soft licks, he pressed a kiss at the dark curls atop of her mound and rested his face there, breathing in her scent he loved so much.

She takes in a moment to breathe through the waves of pleasure while her legs ached and begged for relaxation. So with trembling legs, she sits on top of her dress careful not to sit on sand.

“You’re so beautiful,” Armando compliments beside her. She blushes and spots the evidence of her release on his lips and she can’t help but to capture his lips into a kiss, tasting herself on him.

Midway into the kiss, Armando pulls her into his lap where she already feels his clothed hardness on her center.

The fire in her gut, once again, implores to burn once more and surely she listens to that feeling as her fingers work the button and zipper of his jeans and pulls them down past his knees until Armando kicks them off himself just as eagerly as she.

She stares at his length pulsating with need. There is beads of his own arousal on the head of cock and she licks her lips wanting to also have a taste of him.

“As much as I want to be in your mouth, I really need to be inside of you, cariño.”

She swallowed and nodded as Armando spread her dress on the sand for him to properly lay on.

“We have to go slow. I don’t want to hurt you.”

She knows this. It’d been almost three months since they were intimate in any way. A week ago, she’d been cleared to safely enjoy her husband again but slowly and careful enough to not rip the stitches that had been sewed after birth.

Armando grunted as she grabbed the base of him between her folds, gathering her slick for some aid.

The tip of his cock prodded against her entrance until she slowly sank herself down on him. She breathed in through the sharp sting shooting through her while Armando messaged her breasts and whispered praises.

She began to grind against him at a slow pace all whilst feeling Armando’s cock throb inside of her.

After a while, every grind began to alleviate the pain into hot blinding pleasure. And her legs shifted so that she could bounce on his length in an angle she came to love.

Armando spewed out some curses at tightness of her walls engulfing him. After many months, he didn’t think he could last and he prayed for it to not be over so soon.

“Eres mi único esposo,” she claims as she starts to chase the knot that was close to being lose again.

Armando blinks as he thrusts his hips up at the same rhythm. “Yes!”

She watches through her own half lidded eyes as tears began to form on her husband’s eyes. “Nadie más. Eres mío. Solo mío.”

A series of moans escape Armando as he reaches between where they were joined as one and circles her bud, causing her to whine and grind faster and faster.

“Soy todo tuyo, Vidalia!”

At mention of her name, her jaw goes slack as she spasms around him. Armando kept up his thrusts upwards as he too came with a loud cry.

With him still inside her, she rested her body on top of his, awarding his chest with open mouthed kisses.

“Gods, I hope no one saw us.” She giggled.

“My father gave me this land, which includes the beach. So technically if anyone trespasses it’s on them.” Armando informs as he traces small figures at her back.

“Well that explains why I’ve never seen anyone on this side of the beach before.”

Armando hums, “Right before my father died, he said he bought this land just for the beach itself. He believed that the water held some magical power and spent most of his life researching it before he gave up.”

“How did he come to believe that?” She asked.

“He said, he sailed on this very beach and he landed in a desert not of Mexico. But the people there resembled people like us.”

She watched as his face morphed into sadness.

“He met my mother there.” Armando confessed.

note 2: I watched the new Captain America movie (a month ago rip) and because the new Falcon (aka Joaquin Torres, aka Danny Ramirez), the face claim for Armando was on it, I got inspired to write more about him.

Any guesses to who these mysterious characters might be 👀👀👀

For those waiting for chapter 4 of Only If For A Night, I might release it mid April as I'm writing an Aemond x Aegon threesome fic lol.

translations (in order):

-cariño: darling

-pinche puto: fucking bitch

-Consíganse un cuarto: get a room!

-Dia De Los Muertos: day of the dead

-mi abuelo's: my grandfather’s

-mi abuela's: my grandmother’s

-Bienvenidos: welcome

-En qué les puedo ayudar: What can I help you with?

-El especial de hoy es un cóctel para los enamorados. Hecho con granadas y especias picantes: Today's special is a lover’s cocktail. Made from pomegranates and spicy spices.

-vamonos: lets go

-Eres mi único esposo: you are my only husband

-Nadie más. Eres mío. Solo mío: no one else. You are mine. Only mine

-Soy todo tuyo: just yours

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