#ali knows me all too well

[melverie]

Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh today I've been constantly experiencing the urge to un-private today-in-the-devildom & start writing for it again

[ajdrawshq]

got a shit ton of 3ds games recently n am going thru the ones that interest me whenever i have time that isnt being used for taking the cat off the curtains. so far that has been Ever Oasis n Code of Princess n FE Fates. i like them :]

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: i caved and did an actual Ewan fic! Given that the lad is more of a public persona nowadays, I reckon it's fine (?) This is pure self-indulgence for all my Ewan loves. May have a continuation but idk for now, enjoy!!

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader and Ewan are paired for press interviews. Despite barely having any scenes together and only knowing each other in passing on set, the chemistry they share cannot be denied...

Your first round of press takes place in a primped up hotel suite in Paris, thanks to the team at HBO.

You are an up and coming actress, much like some of your costars in the show, but the pressure is heavier on you because you were entering in season two, whereas everyone was already well-acquainted with one another.

Your few scenes were mostly with Jace and Baela, so you grew close to Harry and Bethany.

However, the media team decided to pair you up with Ewan for the day. A little fun initiative was set by the team that a character from the Blacks would be do press with a counterpart from the Greens - hence, yourself and Ewan.

You're nervous as you walk down the hallway, unable to fully pay attention to the instructions your lovely assistant gives you.

She tells you about the different interviewers for the day, bloggers and magazine writers from all over the world. She reminds you that each one will only be for a maximum of 5 minutes, so it shouldn't be too complicated. She smiles and eagerly says, "Take a deep breath, you got this!", as you reach the suite doors.

But in your mind, all you can recall is your first interaction with Ewan, almost a year ago right after the table read. You had nervously blurted out to him that Aemond is your favourite character, after he just asked, "How are you?". He laughed, said thank you, before he was pulled away in conversation by Tom.

You pray to the fictional Westerosi gods that things will fare better today. That you won't get all tongue-tied when those steel blue eyes land on you.

Upon entering the room, the team is quick to fuss over you. Sometimes you forget that you're actually an actress now. A celebrity, some might say. It all feels surreal and you have a inkling it won't ever stop being this way.

Ewan is already seated in front of the camera, and he stands to give you a hug as you finally walk over.

"Hey there, how are you?" he smiles widely, smelling like cigarettes and something muskier as he wraps his arms around you.

Unroll your tongue. Rework your brain. Calm down.

"Hey, Ewan!" you respond. "I'm doing great, happy to see you again."

"Well, I only wish we could have had more time together on set." Ever the gentleman, he gestures for you to take your seat before he does the same. "But next season perhaps? Who knows?"

"Oh, sure." You settle in, pleased by the fact that your chairs are only about a foot apart. "We can both look forward to my character giving Aemond the arse kicking he deserves."

He laughs, eyes glinting with mischief. "Come on now, I was thinking our characters are actually quite compatible, no?"

"Well, I sure wouldn't want to step on Alys' shoes. She'd probably curse my character all the way to Yi Ti."

"Hmm," he hums, biting his lip. You can't help but hear Aemond when he does that. "I say you can always count on Aemond and Vhagar to come to the rescue of a beautiful maiden such as yourself."

Well, you'll be damned. Ewan, while still an introvert of his own sort, is as charming as can be. If he's turning it on to get himself hyped for the press, it's working.

It's definitely working on you, to say the least.

The media manager gives the signal for the first interview to begin, and a reporter walks in, all ready with prepared script in hand.

"Here we go," you mutter, facing forward.

"Good luck," Ewan replies.

You both shake the reporter's hand, and he introduces himself as Jared.

"So guys," Jared begins. "Why don't we start with you telling me a little bit about what we can expect from your characters this season?"

The question is easy, and it doesn't take long for you and Ewan to think it through. Jared asks a few more basic questions, before drawing the attention more to you.

"When you watched season one, did you have a favourite character?" he asks you.

You smile, "Oh, I mean, I have to say - and Ewan already knows this, by the way - that Aemond was my favourite character."

"Was?" Ewan says, feigning shock. "Unacceptable."

"Was... Is... " you shrug, rolling your eyes playfully, earning a laugh from Jared. "I think I might be more a Daemon girl now."

"Oh!" Jared exclaims happily. "Does Matt know about this?"

"I'll be sure to tell him - "

Ewan interjects, shaking his head at you, "There's no need to tell him, because I'll convert her back to Team Aemond in no time, trust me."

"Daemon is awesome, though," you say to him, smiling.

"Sure." Ewan makes a face like that fact doesn't matter. Wasn't he the one who said that Daemon would be the character he would most like to play if not Aemond?

"And Caraxes is my favourite dragon." You share a look with Jared, hoping he would agree.

"Yes!" Jared says. "Caraxes is the best dragon in the show, in my opinion."

"Ah, you're both wrong," Ewan says. "My Vhagar is the oldest and baddest dragon in all of the land."

"My Vhagar, he says," you joke. "Seems like someone still hasn't shed Aemond for this press tour."

"And I never will, darling." His gaze is intense when he turns to you, and you clear your throat to fight the warmth rushing to your cheeks.

"Alright, they're giving me the wrap-up," Jared thankfully breaks the tension. "It was a pleasure talking to you guys, congratulations on the new season!"

One interview down, and your nerves have already considerably subsided. Ewan tapping your arm to start up a conversation once more surely helps in distracting you.

In the best damn way possible.

"How do you think we did? That wasn't too bad, was it?"

"I think we did quite well," you casually offer a high five, but your heart skips a beat when Ewan interlaces your suspended hands for just a moment.

"I'm glad they paired me with you," Ewan says, after releasing your hand. You hold on to the armrests to keep your fingers from twitching.

"I am, too," you admit. "I am a fan of you, after all, but I think you already know that."

He blushes, "Well, that's not a bad thing. I think you're a fantastic actress. I must have seen your first film a good ten times."

"You mean my first and only film," you add humbly. "But thank you."

"Only film for now," he affirms. "No doubt this is only the beginning for you, darling. With your talent and your charisma, I'm sure you have potential scripts piled up already."

"I could say the same for you! Have you seen what your fans say about you online? You're the internet's new boyfriend, Ewan Mitchell."

The media manager announces the next interview, but Ewan follows up with a response for you under his breath, "I have seen some things. But when I have a girlfriend, I'll make sure she won't have to share me at all."

Oh, so apparently he is single. But wait - why is he telling you this?

You don't get to mull over that thought. For the time being, the next interview starts and you make sure you do a good job at what you're paid to do - promoting the series.

Not daydreaming about getting with a costar, for heaven's sake. Stay professional.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You feel lightheaded after finishing the seventh - or had it been the eighth? - interview.

Your assistant delivers a coffee to you during the twenty-minute break. Ewan had stepped out to the balcony to have a smoke, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

He certainly is everything you expected him to be, and so much more. Insightful, cheeky, dedicated. An artist, through and through. He was in the business for all the right reasons, passion and respect for the craft.

If he had any flaws, you weren't privy to them yet. If there are any reasons for you not to be attracted to him, you didn't know what those were yet.

And with every flirtatious remark and pointed smile, you can't deny the hope blooming in you.

"Hey," he reappears, pulling you out of your musings. "I hope you don't mind that I smell of smoke."

No, you didn't, not when it's him.

"Don't worry about it," you reassure him. You tilt your head forward to take a sip of your coffee, but a lock of your hair falls in front of your face. Annoyed, you think to reach for it, but Ewan beats you to it, tucking it back in place.

"There you go, darling," he croons, gesturing for you to proceed in drinking.

"Th-thanks." His eyes don't leave yours as you take a slow sip.

"So," you say, desperate to break the silence, "which interview did you enjoy the most so far?"

"How can I possibly choose? I mean, I really liked the one with ComicSociety, the guy that said our characters have a lot of chemistry and should get together next season. He's right, I already told you!"

"Ohhh, sure, that will go down really well with the Blacks and Greens."

He smirks, "I don't see why not?"

"For one, Aemond is ensnared by Alys, and my character will never give up fighting for Rhaenyra. I just don't see it happening, Ewan."

"Right," he mutters thoughtfully, "there is still Alys in the picture."

"Still in the picture? With the amount of steamy scenes you two have lined up for season three, I'd say she will be Aemond's entire picture in and of herself."

"Hmm," he glances at you once, then looks down. Dare you think it, does he look disappointed?

"But hey," you add lightly, "maybe we can talk to Ryan and he can flip the entire script just for our characters."

"Yeah," his cheeky smile resurfaces, "maybe you can take Alys' place."

Take the place of Alys? Of Alys. Is he insinuating...

"Next round of interviews, guys!" The media manager announces to the room.

"Here we go again, darling," Ewan squeezes your hand once, before putting on his professional face once more.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

By the end of it all, not even caffeine can perk you up. You were exhausted, you and Ewan having finished four full hours of press.

Your assistant comes to your aid, ready to direct you back to your own hotel room.

"This has been such a pleasure, Ewan, really." You stand, this time initiating the hug.

He squeezes you gently, humming in your ear. When you pull apart, he says, "I honestly wouldn't mind trudging through hours and hours of press with you."

That's sweet of him. You're too tired to mask the warmth that rises to your cheeks. "And I feel the same. Today couldn't have gone any better."

"Truly, and listen, maybe we could - "

"Ewan!" The manager approaches. "I'm so sorry to rush with this, but we need to film just a quick soundbite with you for Aemond. Just two to three questions for the Max Tiktok account?"

"Oh, okay - " Ewan is reluctant to turn away from you.

"Perfect! If you could just stand there by the windows please..." The manager already has him by the arm, directing where he has to go.

"We have to go," your assistant says. "Still have to prep for tomorrow."

"I'll see you soon, Ewan!" you call out to him. "Thanks again."

He gives a half-hearted wave, dejected as he watches you walk out of the room.

"That wasn't too bad," you share with your assistant as you enter the elevators. "Not bad at all, actually."

"Oh, you did so well," she compliments. "It definitely helps with the press that you and Mr. Mitchell have such insane natural chemistry."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

In the calm of your hotel room, you get ready for bed.

Just when you're about to finish with your nightly routine, your phone rings from your bedside table. You're quick to rush over, thinking it could be your assistant or your manager, with an urgent update about work.

But no - it's an unknown number. A UK number, as it appears.

Confused, you click answer anyway, putting it to your ear with a tentative, "Hello, who is this?"

"Hi, darling."

"Ewan?"

"Yeah, uhm, I hope I didn't disturb you - "

"Not at all," your answer comes out in a rushed breath.

"I also hope you don't mind that I got my assistant to ask your assistant to give me your number? It's what I wanted to ask you before you left today."

"Oh." You feel fully awake now, by some miracle, butterflies finding home in your stomach. "I don't mind. I... I should have given you my number, anyway. I have most of the cast's, in case I need to get a hold of you guys."

"Hmm, right," he says from the other end. You hear him calmly breathing, the sound strangely comforting, and wonder if he can hear the same from you.

He says, "I just wanted to keep hearing your voice. Didn't get enough of it today," and your heart just about stops.

"Oh. Okay," is all you are able to respond with.

"What are you doing?"

"Just... just getting ready for bed." Phone pressed to your ear, you shuffle around the room, putting some things back in place.

He says nothing for a few seconds, but you still hear his breathing, and some shuffling in the background. It occurs to you that he might just be as nervous as you are now.

Maybe.

"Listen," he finally says, "do you want to hear my pitch to Ryan about why our characters should get together next season?"

A genuine laugh escapes you. He sure is persistent. Playful, sure, but you're definitely willing to play along.

"Let's hear it."

"First," he says, "you have to renounce Daemon as your favourite character - "

"Not a chance."

" - and swear your love for Aemond."

"Keep dreaming."

He laughs, and you can only picture the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Aww darling," he teases, "don't you love me?"

💌 part two - part three

The OGs will know that the final line is a nod to my first ever Aemond fic! 🖤

Did this slightly delay my series works? Yes, yes it did. Do I regret it? For Ewan frickin Mitchell, I would never ~

[bangtanintotheroom]

Make Me Water (M)

Can you blow my mind?

Set off my whole body

If I give you my time

Can you snatch my soul from me?

🔊 water - tyla; make me - britney spears, g-eazy; the look - ali gatie, kehlani; meeting in my bedroom - silk; tonight - dxvn., daniel di angelo; slidin' - kai and more... 🔊

• Pairing: Seonghwa x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Friends to Lovers, Smut, Fluff

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 14.4k

• Summary: The most unexpected topic comes up during a drinking session with your friends, leading to one of them making a rather bold claim. You declare that they’re full of shit and unintentionally make them determined to prove you wrong.

• Warnings/themes: drinking, swearing, explicit sexual content, discussion about inappropriate topics, Seonghwa and his bedroom eyes 😶, Y/N is in for the ride of her life, bickering, making out, body worship, teasing, edging, praise, fingering, squirting (it’s gon be real wet up in here 🗣️💦), dirty talk, oral (f. and m. receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, multiple positions, unprotected sex (dooon’t do this), aftercare

• Notes: She's heeeeere~ I feel like I've been through the wringer working on this one, so I hope it was worth the wait! Thank you to @wooahaeproductions for beta'ing! 💖

“Alright, alright, it’s my turn now!”

Wooyoung’s exclamation made you and a couple of others look around with apprehension; nothing good came from his drunken mouth ninety percent of the time. But you humored him nonetheless by encouraging, “Go on, Woo.”

You and your group of friends had gathered at your place for the weekly hang out that involved food, drinks and conversations that could either start debates or leave everyone on the floor dying of laughter. Tonight was no exception as empty bottles of soju and beer laid across the coffee table, along with plates that once housed food that everyone brought.

Now that stomachs were full and inhibitions were lessened, in came the inappropriate discussions.

Wooyoung straightened his posture, looking like the Cheshire cat as he crowed, “What’s something you’ve always wanted to try in bed that you haven’t yet?”

Reactions varied. Some immediately looked up as they searched for an answer while others took a sudden interest in their drinking glasses. You were of the former as you scanned your brain, only for Mingi to step up to the plate first.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to have sex while driving.”

Sakura quipped over her glass with, “Like road head or full on sex?”

“Road head, I guess. Not trying to wreck my car.”

Jongho couldn’t help but scoff, “Like you would have less of a chance of crashing from that.”

Mingi waved the younger man off, clearly not wanting his fantasy to be ruined.

“Whatever. Ningning, you go now.”

“Huh?! Why me?”

“Because you’re sitting next to me, we’re going around in a circle.”

Ningning didn’t seem too pleased with his reasoning, elbowing him sharply before gathering her thoughts.

“Uh…I guess—” Her pretty face scrunched up. “—I wouldn’t mind getting tied up.”

Everyone lit up with curiosity, but it was overshadowed from Jongho nearly choking on his beer all of a sudden. Seonghwa was quick to lean over and pat his back to help out.

“Easy there.”

“I’m—” A cough. “—fine, hyung, thanks.”

Wooyoung leaned forward, eyes scrunched as he stared down Ningning.

“Eh? Bondage? Our little Ningning is into that?”

“Okay, one, don’t call me little or I’ll throw something at you. Two, I haven’t tried it yet.”

“But you want to one day.”

Knives might as well have gone into Wooyoung with the way she glared him down.

“Isn’t that the point of this game? Dumbass.”

You were quick to jump in with, “Ning, I think we need to keep you away from the soju, even though Woo deserves every word you’re hurling at him.”

“Hey!”

Ningning huffed, crossing her arms before leaning back against the couch. “Whatever. Jongho, are you alright? Sorry if I scared you.”

Jongho was under control now, although his cheeks had a slight flush to them.

“Y-Yes, Ningning…you didn’t scare me, just took me off-guard.”

She giggled, doing a complete one-eighty from her interaction with Wooyoung.

“Did I? I’ll try not to do it again, ‘kay?”

Whatever Jongho was about to reply with dwindled into a sheepish chuckle when her hand patted his.

“O-Okay.”

“Anyways—” The attention was back on Wooyoung again, thanks to his obnoxious call. “—since you’re back in action, it’s your turn now.”

“Huh?! Oh…”

The way the poor kid deflated had you about to pipe up to defend him, only for Seonghwa to beat you to it.

“Wooyoung, take it down a notch, will you?”

The offender placed a hand on his chest as if he was falsely accused of a crime. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was around a bunch of wet blankets. Look, if he wants to skip, fine. Don’t need him choking to death.”

Just as Seonghwa was about to scold again, Jongho waved a hand to ease the tension.

“Hyung, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure? Don’t let him pressure you.”

The younger man gave his elder a toothy grin in reassurance.

“Yes.”

“You heard him, mom, let him answer!”

Seonghwa sighed in defeat, shaking his head as he got comfortable in his spot next to you again. You leaned in to whisper, “There’s no winning against Woo when he’s drunk, I thought you knew that by now.”

Your friend chuckled lowly, bumping your thigh with his hand.

“Thank you for the reminder. Say it a little earlier next time, yes?”

A giggle escaped, from both his quip and the light touch.

“Yes, Hwa.”

Remembering that Jongho was about to answer now, you tuned out of your brief conversation with the man beside you and back to the group.

“I always…”

Hesitation spread over Jongho’s face as he trailed off; whatever he wanted to say must have been too much for his introverted self to admit. But Wooyoung was quick to encourage him by saying, “Come on, Jongho, spit it out! This is a no judgment zone.”

The younger man gave his friend a look of gratitude before taking a deep breath. “Okay, okay. Um…I’ve always been curious about…”

With his teeth coming on full display and his full cheeks reddening further, he unloaded.

“Squirting?”

Between Mingi spitting out his beer, Wooyoung screeching in surprise at the mess that landed on him, Sakura and Ningning gasping and your jaw dropping, the room went in an uproar.

“Yah, you got beer on me!”

“Serves you right for starting this in the first place.”

“Huh?! Jongho, are you for real?”

“Yes! What’s wrong, i-is it too much?”

Sakura waved her hands in placation, continuing, “No, it’s not! I’m just surprised to hear that from you, of all people.”

He was quick to straighten up, eyes narrowing in defense. “What is that supposed to mean?!”

“You seem so…clean-cut?”

“Yeah, not like someone who wants their mattress turned into a water bed.”

Jongho snapped at Mingi’s confusion with, “I’m not talking about a whole geyser, that’s fake! Just a little bit, you know?”

The tall man still looked unconvinced, full lips pursed.

“Okay, but, is it even possible?”

“Yeah, I heard it’s not easy to do—” Wooyoung had the nerve to wiggle his fingers in the air. “—gotta have the magic touch.”

Of course, the troublemaker himself glanced at you, Sakura and Ningning before questioning, “Unless either of you lovely ladies have experience in that area?”

Ningning shook her head swiftly. “Never.”

Sakura lifted her chin. “Nope.”

Which left you to end the interrogation with, “No, and it won’t ever happen.”

Wooyoung backed off, humming in curiosity. Just when it seemed that he was going to move on to the next victim, a voice next to you spoke.

“I’ve seen it happen before.”

Every eye in the room landed on Seonghwa, looking as casual as ever despite his controversial statement.

“Eh? What do you mean?”

He looked at Jongho casually while lifting his glass to his lips. “I’ve made someone squirt before.”

Sheer chaos erupted all at once. While everyone else talked over each other, you gawked at your friend. You did not expect something like that to come out of Seonghwa, of all people.

Seonghwa, who kept a close eye on your group during every outing.

Seonghwa, who stayed up until 3 AM playing Animal Crossing.

Prim, proper and pretty Seonghwa, who just admitted to causing an obscene act in the bedroom.

“How?!”

“Patience and knowing what they like. You also have to make sure they’re comfortable or you won’t get anywhere.”

It was ironic to see how fixated Wooyoung was on the topic, seeing as he was the one who started this game out of sheer debauchery, inquiring, “Was it planned? Or did it just happen out of nowhere?”

“It was unexpected but intriguing. We were just doing the usual and I could feel something different. Before I realized it, there was a huge mess.”

You could have sworn you heard a hint of smugness in his tone.

“Damn…from fingering or fucking?”

A tilt of his lips.

“Both.”

Wooyoung sat back, looking more than impressed at his friend’s prowess. But you weren’t on board like the others were. Squirting always seemed like something that was exaggerated by people who didn’t have much to brag about in the bedroom. Therefore, you couldn’t help but interrupt the questioning.

“You sure they didn’t pee on you?”

Seonghwa turned his head, looking unimpressed with your snark. “I’m pretty sure.”

Your brow lifted.

“It only happened that one time?”

“Yes.”

You shrugged your shoulders.

“Maybe you just got lucky.”

The ‘oooh’ echoing from your friends only amplified the taken aback expression on Seonghwa’s face.

“I think she’s calling you bad in bed, Hwa.”

“No, I’m not! I’m just skeptical, is all. Anyways—” You shot a placating smile to everyone. “—why don’t we move on to the next victim?”

Wooyoung cackled, “Now you’re speaking my language, Y/N! Sakura, you better answer with something to upstage hyung!”

“Wooyoung-ah, don’t put so much pressure on me!”

Following her whine, the group focused their full attention on the young woman, especially you as you pushed the previous topic to the back of your head. But while you were laser-focused on every single person who went next, you were unaware of the constant glances Seonghwa would shoot at the side of your head, something brewing deep in his dark eyes.

After the tumultuous discussions finally dimmed, you retreated into the kitchen to begin washing the pile of dishes from dinner. Despite the multiple offers of help, you turned them down. You could use some peace and quiet for a moment.

The dull thrum of conversation in the background was all the noise you needed as you began working on whatever was in the sink. But then you felt someone coming up to stand to your right once you got two plates in.

You didn’t even need to look up to know who was butting in.

“Do you not know the meaning of relax?”

Seonghwa hummed playfully, reaching for one of the soaped-up dishes in your sink. “No, not really.”

A huff left as you allowed him to help. No point wasting energy in saying no.

You scrubbed each one as well as you could before passing them off to your friend to rinse. Even though you knew he should have been kicking back in the living room with the others, his assistance was appreciated. You greatly underestimated how hard dried tteokbokki sauce was to get off.

“So what are they talking about now? How to recreate positions from porn?”

Seonghwa chuckled at your quip. “No, they’re laser-focused on the game.”

“Good. I still can’t believe we even had that conversation earlier.”

“You know how Wooyoung and the others get when they drink.” A pause came before he spoke lowly, “They didn’t make you feel uncomfortable, did they?”

The way concern painted his tone made you look up, seeing his face expressing the same emotion. Leave it to him to always look out for you.

“Not at all. I was taken off-guard—” You gave a reassuring smile. “—but it definitely livened up the night.”

He smiled with relief, taking another bowl from you to rinse off and dry.

“Although I have to admit, you caught me by surprise.”

“What, because of what I said?”

You hummed as you put your muscles into scrubbing a stubborn stain, “Mhm. Doesn’t seem like your kind of thing.”

Seonghwa huffed playfully, “Well, you never expressed any interest in my intimate life, so I didn’t have a reason to inform you.”

His remark made your eyes roll.

“I mean that it doesn’t seem like something your prim and proper self would be into.”

“You say that like sex isn’t meant to be the opposite of that.”

You shrugged. “I stand by what I said. Besides, you probably just got lucky with whoever she was.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Seonghwa turning his head to lift a defined brow. “What makes you say that?”

Wanting to emphasize your opinion, you paused your hands to give your friend a matter-of-fact expression.

“Because a lot of women can’t squirt. I don’t care what ‘experts’ say, it’s damn near impossible.”

To your surprise, he frowned. “Y/N, do you really think I’m lying?”

“Not lying, just taking an inch and making a mile out of it—” You went back to giving the dirty dishes attention. “—maybe if I saw it in person, it’d be a different story.”

After that, it was silent, save for the faint cheers of your friends in the living room. You figured that was the end of that conversation.

“Why bother telling you when I could just show you?”

Your fingers seemed to lose their grip on the plate, clattering into the sink loudly.

What? He did not just say that.

You turned to gawk at Seonghwa before stuttering, “H-Huh?”

He was nonplussed as he met your eyes, repeating, “I could just prove you wrong. Actions speak louder than words, no?”

Was he fucking serious? Seonghwa offering to show you how he could make you squirt?

“Hwa, you…you’re joking, right?”

“I’m not.”

Judging by the look on his face, he really wasn’t.

Feeling a heat begin to creep up the back of your neck, you tore your gaze away to grab the plate, picking it up and checking to see if it suffered any damage from your slip-up.

“Come on, be for real right now. I can’t do that.”

“You can’t let me touch you or you can’t squirt?”

You almost threw the abused dish back down as your head whipped up to fix him a flustered glare.

“Both! One, we’re friends. Two, I’ve never squirted and I never will.”

Seonghwa gave you an equally stern look, firing back, “We’re both single and it would just be between the two of us. And have you ever even tried?”

“N-No, but—”

“So how would you know?”

You pursed your lips, feeling a wave of frustration mixed with defeat overcoming you. It wasn’t fun to admit, but he had a point.

He could probably tell by the look on your face that you knew this, yet he didn’t gloat or prod you further. Seonghwa just kept watching and waiting for your next defense to come out. But it didn’t come for a while as your mind raced with thoughts, coming up with one that took you for a spin.

Would it really be so bad to say yes?

If you had to be honest, a part of you always entertained escaping the friend zone with Seonghwa. Yes, he was an incredibly good-looking man, but that could only get you so far. It was his personality that made your mind wander, as well.

There was always something so incredibly attractive about someone who looked out for you and your best interests. It wasn’t just with you, but with others as well. The amount of times he had jumped in to assist (especially with Jongho and Wooyoung) with getting them out of messes was too frequent.

But this was your friend. And friends and sex mixed together could either end up turning into something beautiful or an absolute disaster.

“Seonghwa.”

“Hm?”

You peered up at him with confusion. “Why me?”

For a moment, your friend said nothing while keeping his stare on you. But then the gentlest of smiles stretched his lips before he explained, “Why not?”

Flabbergasted. Flustered. Any word to match your current feeling was necessary.

His reason was as simple as that?

“Hwa, the TV is acting up again, can you help us?”

Sakura’s sudden shout made the two of you jump, Seonghwa turning his head to call out, “Give me a second!”

You couldn’t help but freeze when his dark eyes landed on you again, steady as if you two didn’t have an inappropriate conversation just now.

“No pressure, Y/N. Excuse me.”

And then he left you alone in the kitchen, reeling and staring at the spot he was previously in.

What the hell?

Desperate to distract yourself from what occurred, you turned to face the sink again. Cleaning up was considerably slower this time, thanks to your hands trembling. When you dropped the same butter knife for the third time, you swore under your breath and placed your palms on the edge of the counter, holding on tight. It was to try and get your nerves under control, but alas, you ended up pondering Seonghwa's offer in the meantime.

You sighed heavily, hanging your head for a moment as you reminded yourself to grab a shot before heading back to the others.

The rest of the night went smoothly with spikes of excitement, courtesy of Jongho and Ningning’s impromptu duet and Mingi’s long-winded explanation of how ants were the most useless bugs in existence. You tried your damnedest to focus on them and give your own input, but it was difficult thanks to the source of your troubles sitting right next to you.

You tried to play it cool, even though you kept stealing glances at Seonghwa, acting as nonplussed as ever. It didn’t help at all when he decided to perch his head on your lap, humming as he looked ready to fall asleep at any moment.

Bastard.

Mercy was granted when everyone decided to head out later on. You saw them out with hugs and promises to make plans for next week’s hangout, save for Seonghwa who decided to stay behind to help with the last bit of cleaning. You cursed his consideration, still feeling too shaken to be able to stay alone in the same room as him. As long as you avoided his eyes, you were okay.

When he finally decided to leave, you felt an odd mix of relief and disappointment. His offer hadn’t been brought up again since earlier, leaving you to wonder if he was fully serious or just taking the piss out of you.

“Are you alright?”

You broke out of your thoughts, seeing Seonghwa observing you with concern.

“Yeah, Hwa…I think I’m just ready for bed, that's all.”

“You do look tired. Let me get out of your hair, then.”

And so you walked him to your front door, the feeling still lingering inside your chest. You tried your best to stifle it as you unlocked the door, giving your friend a smile.

“Thanks for the help, Hwa.”

He gave you one of his gorgeous, toothy grins, making your gut flip in protest. “Of course, Y/N.”

And like always, he reached his arms out, waiting until you stepped into them to receive a tight hug.

A hug that made you a little giddy at times yet hit ten times harder tonight.

“Have a good night.”

Why did he have to whisper it like that? And so close to your head?

“You too. Get home safe.”

Reluctantly, you let him go, watching as he stepped over the threshold. But as soon as both feet passed, that ball of tension inside crawled up and out of your mouth.

“Seonghwa.”

You almost didn’t recognize your voice, trying not to mull over it too much as said man turned to look at you. Hesitation wracked you before you were able to muster a necessary question.

“Are you free this weekend?”

“I am. Why?”

Would you regret what you were about to do? Or would you be unlocking the door to something new and exciting?

There was no point in analyzing further as you gathered up every last one of your nerves to look him in the eye.

“I have a challenge for you.”

You were a fool. A horny, little fool who let her pussy take over her mind.

As badly as you wanted to blame Seonghwa for even putting this crazy idea into your head, it was absurd to try. You were the one who accepted his offer and you were the one currently driving over to his place to see if he could put his money where his mouth was.

Just the curious thoughts you had about what he might do had you gripping the steering wheel tighter.

They came to a halt when you parked and began making your way up to his apartment, trying not to look too jumpy to the doorman who always greeted you. You were no stranger to visiting, but a silly part of you became paranoid that he’d see right through and decipher the naughty reason that you were really here. But your facade remained steady until you made your way off the elevator and headed straight for one of the doors in the hallway.

You took in a deep breath, soothing your nerves a mite before ringing the doorbell. Whatever composure you mustered dwindled when Seonghwa answered a few seconds later, looking effortlessly gorgeous as ever. Yes, even in a plain white tee and gray sweats.

Damn. You probably looked basic as fuck with your simple cami and leggings on.

“Y/N.”

The pleasant smile he gave reflected on your own face as you brought a mildly shaky hand up to give a short wave.

“I made it.”

“I can see that. Come in.”

As soon as he stepped aside, you entered, sliding your shoes off as he shut the door.

“Busy day today?”

You shrugged as you pushed your footwear to the side of the welcome mat. “Busy enough. I took it easy, honestly.”

“Saving your energy for tonight?”

The tips of your ears heated up at the ever so subtle upturn of his lips. Leave it to him to be direct.

“Maybe.”

Seonghwa chuckled as you looked anywhere but at him, leaning his shoulder against the door and folding his arms across his chest. “No need to be so awkward, Y/N.”

You groaned and looked up at the ceiling before griping, “Hwa, I just came over to your apartment to see if you could get me to squirt. How can I not be awkward?”

Your friend’s humorous smile grew into a reassuring one as he returned to his full height, reaching one of his hands out to hold yours.

“You shouldn’t feel awkward because it’s just between the two of us and we’re going to have a good time.”

The touch and reassurance from him eased your nerves a little, but…

“But what if I don’t end up doing it?”

Seonghwa’s expression became a bit serious now. 

“Then we’ll figure it out, if we hit that wall. Either way, no pressure—” His thumb rubbed the back of your hand. “—I just want you to enjoy yourself.”

Your heart couldn’t help but warm. Despite the fact that he brought this up in the first place, he gave you the choice to tap out whenever you wanted. But there was a bud growing inside you now. A bud that was determined to at least attempt to see his claim through.

“Thank you, Seonghwa. I, um, hope I don’t disappoint you.”

He grinned lightly, giving your palm a careful squeeze.

“I’m sure you won’t. Do you need anything right now?”

Considering that you did all your grooming and usual sex prep at home, you were ready to get straight to business.

“No, I’m good.”

Seonghwa nodded at your answer, letting go of your hand. “Alright. Just head to my room and get comfortable, I have to grab a few things first.”

Although you raised your eyebrow at whatever ‘a few things’ was, you let it slide and turned to walk towards his bedroom. Out of all the times you had been in there, heading past the door had you overcome with a different emotion this time. Well, three.

You were nervous, cautious and excited at the same time. Maybe there was a name for that somewhere out there, but you deemed it unimportant at the moment as you sat on the foot of his bed. 

His room was familiar, so you couldn’t distract yourself by looking around. For now, you clasped your hands and twiddled your thumbs, watching them with mild interest. The sound of Seonghwa finally entering brought your attention away from your appendages, only for your brows to nearly raise into your hairline with the things your friend had bundled in his arms.

Two water bottles.

A bath towel.

A portable speaker.

“You’re really turning this into a whole experience, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I want to make sure you’re as relaxed as possible.”

Something clicked and you made a noise of realization. “Is that why you asked me to send you a bedroom playlist over?”

“Mhm.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly and shake your head.

“Seonghwa…it almost feels like you’re trying to seduce me.”

He giggled at the accusation, setting the stuff down on the bed before grinning mischievously.

“Is it working?”

In all honesty, it wouldn’t have taken much on his end to seduce you, but there was no way in hell you were going to say that out loud.

“I’ll give you an A for effort.”

“Hmph, good enough.”

With that, Seonghwa grabbed the speaker to start setting it up with his phone.

“Oh, I forgot to mention—” He paused and turned his head to look at you. “—you might want to use the bathroom before we start.”

His suggestion made your face scrunch in confusion. “I don’t really have to go, though…”

“Even if you don’t, it’ll give you peace of mind. Just so you know that you don’t have to go during. Trust me.”

Well, you weren’t going to keep fighting the supposed squirting expert, so you shrugged and stood up to head to the bathroom. After doing the little bit of business you had and cleaning up, you returned to Seonghwa’s room, only to be greeted by a few different things.

Familiar music entered your ears and your eyes noticed the large bath towel spread out in the middle of his bed, the dark terrycloth contrasting with the light blue comforter. Seonghwa had his back turned to you, too occupied in fussing with something at his nightstand to notice your appearance. You cleared your throat after a few seconds, capturing his attention as he looked over his shoulder.

“All done?”

You gave a nod as you walked up to him.

“Are you all put together now?”

He chuckled a little, returning your nod. “As much as I can be, yes.”

Despite his answer, there was a bout of silence between the two of you afterward. It seemed that neither of you didn’t know how to continue. Thankfully, he stepped up to the plate.

“Should we sit?”

His motioning to the foot of the bed forced you to swallow the sudden jump of nerves, moving forward to sit down, the other following suit. Your eyes remained on the carpet, tapping your bare feet on it as you came to terms with what was about to happen. It was a miracle that you could hear the music over the hammering of your heartbeat.

“You look nervous.”

You brought your eyes up to see Seonghwa giving you a sympathetic smile. It only made you clear your throat and look away with timidity.

“Can you blame me? This is an…unexpected development in our relationship.”

A quiet hum. “It definitely is.”

Both of you stayed silent, breaking when you heard him whisper, “I wasn’t sure if you’d say yes.”

You whipped your head back around, blinking at his change in tone.

“I was expecting you to curse me out completely for even bringing something like this up.”

You assumed that you were the only one internally freaking out about this, but it was clear by the way Seonghwa kept tapping his bouncing leg that he was struggling to adjust too. Endeared and relieved by his behavior, you carefully bumped your leg into his.

“Well, you seemed so sincere in your offer and knowing you, you wouldn’t risk it if you knew I was gonna flip, right?”

Your mild teasing paired with encouragement made his demeanor brighten, teeth flashing.

“Right.”

Both of you giggled, feeling a little more at ease now. It led to Seonghwa taking your hand in his now, the touch comforting as he gazed into your eyes with a seriousness.

“There’s still a chance for you to back out, Y/N. It’s your call.”

Seonghwa’s body language was pretty clear in what answer he really wanted to hear. The way he continuously brushed his thumb over your knuckles and looked deep into your eyes let you know how much he was looking forward to this experience.

And yet he still gave you full control over it.

A grateful smile couldn’t help but stretch over your lips as you completely made up your mind. Your palm turned over to still his wandering thumb, scooting closer until your knee touched his own.

Leaning in, you whispered into his ear, “Show me what you can do.”

As soon as you pulled back, you could see the shift in Seonghwa’s expression, one that was new to you but brought a thrill down your spine. With a firm nod, he brought up his free hand to hold your jaw with caution. His head came in, tilting before you closed your eyes. A second later, you felt his lips claiming yours for a kiss.

A kiss that was everything you thought of and everything you never anticipated.

You always expected him to be an expert at this. Which was probably dumb of you to assume, considering you never got anything more than a hug out of your friend, but what was the harm in wishful thinking? At least he proved you right with the way he let passion slowly drip into it and kept his hands touching you.

Your body slowly crept up in temperature as the minutes went by. By now, you were giving back as much as you could in the kiss, one of your own hands holding onto his t-shirt. The urge to venture underneath kept striking, yet you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself without asking. You reluctantly pulled your lips off of Seonghwa’s, only enough to whisper, “Can I take your shirt off, Hwa?”

He was quick to give a nod of approval, sitting back before taking your hand and moving it to brush against the hem. Before you could lose your nerve, you took hold with both hands, waiting for your friend to lift his arms and sliding the fabric up carefully. You tossed it to the floor as soon as it was off, breath catching at what was in front of you now.

This wasn’t the first time you had seen Seonghwa shirtless, but the current circumstances made the sight more tantalizing than usual. Although you had noticed the light definition of his lean torso prior to today, knowing that you were about to have free reign made the urge to touch him even stronger. With a burst of want, your fingers began exploring his warm skin, watching and listening as he reacted to your touch.

The barely audible hums and sighs falling from his lips were eventually silenced when he leaned in for another kiss, the intensity turned up a notch this time. Feeling your friend groan into your mouth whenever you brushed a sensitive spot was a privilege you never thought you would get.

And one you didn’t want to give up any time soon.

But then Seonghwa was pulling away, making you nearly choke on the whine you had to hold back. Your disappointment was swiftly alleviated when you saw his hands go for the bottom of your shirt now. His brow raised as he questioned softly, “May I?”

Your response was an encouraging nod. Repeating his motions from earlier as the roles were reversed, you tried to ignore the anxious, little voice in your head as your clothing came off and ended up on the bedroom floor. It was also a result of spending nearly an hour deciding on what underwear to don, which in the grand scheme of things, was stupid. But you wanted to at least leave him with a good impression.

Which may be what you’re getting, judging by the smallest tilt of his mouth as he looked you over.

“What?”

“Would I sound arrogant if I asked if this was for me?”

Your nerves eased as you giggled and gave his leg a light kick.

“You would…but I’d let it slide.”

“Would you?”

“Mhm—” The attention made you push your chest out a bit. “—figured I’d wear my good stuff for a special occasion.”

Seonghwa chuckled lowly, glancing at the motion before returning to your face. “Well, I feel very grateful right now.”

His words solidified that you made an excellent choice today. 

While you were mentally patting yourself on the back, he began leaning in again, only for his lips to land on your jawline. The sensation brought a pleasant shiver down your spine, increasing when he started moving lower. Brushing over your pulse point made it come stronger this time.

You tipped your head back to give your friend more room to work with, getting lost in the sensations. The feelings gave way to a gentle warmth that crept up on you the longer Seonghwa kept kissing, spiking into a small fire every time he hit a sensitive spot or threw a bit of teeth into the mix. When the heat needed an escape, you’d let out gentle noises to let him know how he was making you feel. He’d show his gratitude with a hum on your skin or the softest of chuckles.

“You know—” A scrape along your jugular. “—I always thought you were gorgeous.”

Whoa. The sudden words made you fall out of your haze a bit as you stammered, “R-Really?”

“Mhm—“ Another kiss on your neck. “—so pretty.”

An unmistakable heat built up in your cheeks, taking his compliment to heart. To have someone that looked like Seonghwa saying that would have your ego riding a high for the next few days.

But for now, you’d focus on the way his lips started carefully trailing down to the swells of your breasts, occasionally brushing against the lace hiding the rest of them. You couldn’t help but watch the top of his head, ebony bangs swaying and tickling your sensitive skin as he continued with his kisses. Soon enough, the desire for more came.

“Hwa.”

The soft call made him stop and bring his head up to give you his attention. With a slight push of your chest, you encouraged, “Take it off.”

Seonghwa gave your bra a quick glance before returning his gaze to give a nod, sitting up to reach around your torso. You felt his hand fumble for a moment until the band around your ribs loosened. He went for your straps now, sliding the garment down delicately, eyes fixated on your skin as it was exposed.

The way he was staring had you feeling a mix of self-consciousness and assurance. Having one of your close friends seeing you in such a state was nerve-wracking, but the budding heat in his expression let you know that he liked what he saw. And if you were unsure about that, he was quick to remedy it by leaning down to pull a nipple into his mouth.

A small hiss left your lips at the sensation, head tipping back as Seonghwa began carefully sucking. Just when you were really enjoying it, he pulled off to ask, “Did you like that?”

It took a second to gain your voice before answering, “I did.”

Your friend’s mouth quirked at your affirmation, pleased to find something else that made you tick. He dove back in, returning his attention to the stiff bud with more pressure. A few sighs escaped as your eyes fluttered closed to enjoy it further. How quickly Seonghwa caught on to your body was mind-boggling. Whenever you were about to ask for more, he’d bring a hand up to tweak and play with the neglected side.

He continued to play with your breasts a little longer, leaving no inch untouched before he pulled off. The loss of the touch had your fingers tightening on the comforter, only easing up when he spoke, “We should get more comfortable.”

With a motion of his hand towards the head of the bed, you turned and crawled up to rest your head on the pillows. Seonghwa was quick to follow, watching as he ended up on top of you. He stopped when he was level with your chest, planting a few kisses before slowly trailing them down your torso. That and the little nips he’d throw in between made you melt into the comforter.

You couldn’t help but want to watch him in action at one point. Your stare must have been heavy as he eventually caught you.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just…I’m surprised at how thorough you’re being.”

He let out an amused huff before sitting up between your legs.

“The buildup is part of it, Y/N. It’s not just about how you feel here—” He pointed between your hips before tapping your forehead. “—it’s about what’s going on up here too.”

Wow. Never did you imagine hearing that out of anyone you were about to be intimate with. His thought process relaxed you further, giving him a nod to show that you understood.

Seonghwa looked pleased with your reaction, leaning in to give you a short but sweet kiss. He pulled back to direct his eyes on your panties before peering back up to raise a thick brow.

“Should we take these off?”

The suggestion forced your bottom lip under your teeth in anticipation, lifting your hips to let him know that you were completely on board. He took a hold of the waistband and pulled down carefully until your underwear came off your legs and ended up on the floor. The new exposure had you keeping them as close together as possible (which wasn’t much, thanks to Seonghwa sitting in between). Your friend didn’t give you the chance to feel more shy, his hands laying next to your knees to gradually slide up and towards your inner thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

With a light push, he spread your legs further apart, revealing more of your most intimate area. Your stomach flipped at the way his eyes seemed to drink you in, feeling a thumb come up to brush the apex of your thigh.

“Pretty.”

His murmur made you want to grab a pillow and hide your face from the sudden heat washing over it. But Seonghwa interrupted your modesty by hooking his hands underneath your knees to push them back all of a sudden.

“Hwa!”

“Hold these for me.”

You couldn’t tell if it was a command or a suggestion; either way, you were quick to hold the back of your knees and keep yourself spread open. All you could do was lay there and wiggle your toes as you tried not to overthink on how exposed you were to Seonghwa now.

“Y/N.”

You peered up at him, only to be greeted with a question that you never expected to leave his mouth.

“Do you like being eaten out?”

A tremble slipped through your fingers while the grip on your legs tightened. You nodded slowly while whispering, “I do.”

Seonghwa pulled in his bottom lip before biting, focusing his gaze between your legs again.

“May I?”

God yes. Which was short for ‘god yes, eat me the fuck out like you haven’t had a meal in days’, but your nerves dwindled it down to a mini smile paired with a slow nod. It seemed to be more than enough for your friend as he grinned lightly before carefully slinking down until his face hovered in front of your dripping folds.

A conflict of emotions occurred at the view. A thrill went through you at the thought of having Seonghwa put his mouth on you, yet you were also incredibly vulnerable to him now. Did you taste alright? Did you clean up enough and—

“Oh—”

Whatever worries you were going to stew on were interrupted, thanks to the tongue delicately running up your slit. The motion had your body stiffening at first, gaping down at the head between your thighs. For a moment, your brain couldn’t comprehend that it was Seonghwa who did that, but it was quick to realize when he went and did it again, making a light sound come out.

Your friend peered up at you through his bangs, deep brown eyes watching you like a hawk.

“Too much or more?”

“It…felt nice. Just, um, build it up?”

Why did you say that as if you didn’t know how you liked to be eaten out? Now Seonghwa cocked his head, looking a little cautious.

“You don’t sound very confident about that, Y/N. Don’t be afraid to tell me what you like.”

Right. Right. This was Seonghwa, not some person who was doing this out of obligation for the end goal. How would he know how to please you if you didn’t communicate?

Taking a deep breath, you informed him, “That was fine. Just…switch between that and my clit.”

He nodded, looking more satisfied with your answer.

“Okay. Just tell me if I need to do anything different, yes?”

Your mouth curled at his consideration. “Yes, Hwa.”

Seonghwa gave your inner thigh a gentle peck before going back to what he was doing. Now you could enjoy the feeling fully, less hesitant than before. By the third lick, a moan began building up at the base of your throat, releasing when you felt the lightest of pressures on your clit.

“Mnh—”

“Is that good?”

Your legs spread further. “You can do it a little harder.”

He wasted no time in following your suggestion, circling the bud with more strength to make your back arch slightly and your nails dig into your skin.

“Yeah, just like that—”

Seonghwa continued, egged on by your words. He seemed to develop a strategy when it came to pleasuring you, leaving your eyes to flutter shut as you enjoyed the bliss.

The only time your fog was interrupted was when you heard his voice husking from below, “Knew you’d always taste so good.”

A shiver wracked your body from the mixture of praise and the light flick he gave your clit. You sat back and enjoyed the feeling of your friend’s mouth as he worked you over. When you felt something prodding your entrance, your eyes flew open, head lifting to see Seonghwa meeting you with apprehension on his beautiful face. Only when you looked closer did you see that the tip of his index finger was what pressed against you.

“Can I put it in?”

Your nod was all he needed before sliding inside, your teeth clenching at the welcome spreading. He began thrusting slowly, lighting a different kind of spark inside at the added friction. You tipped your head back again, sighing pleasantly in enjoyment.

“You sound so fucking wet—”

You squeezed involuntarily around his digit, finding that he wasn’t exaggerating. Listening close, you could hear a light squelching, your ears burning from the noise.

Seonghwa continued moving against your walls, stimulating you to the point where you instructed him to add another finger in. With a bite of his lip, he obliged, carefully adding a second one that made you moan even louder than before. How you managed to still keep a hold of your legs was impressive in its own right. But you nearly let go when you felt a brush against your G-spot.

“Ah—”

“Y/N?”

You were swift in alleviating his concern with a, “Right there, Hwa—”

He was clued into what he did, starting to rub and press in that area with more pressure. To give you something else to make your head spin, you felt him start to lap and swirl around your clit again. The two sensations intertwined seamlessly, leading to a familiar knot to start forming in your gut.

Shit. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine Seonghwa, your close friend, would make you about to come.

But just when you were about to allow the moment to take over, he removed his tongue and stilled his fingers, making your head throw back in frustration as you groaned.

“Damn—”

Seonghwa was quick to placate you, “I’m sorry, Y/N, but it’s necessary.”

You brought your head up to shoot a large pout to let him know you didn’t see eye to eye. He gave you a chuckle in return, his free hand coming up to give your tense stomach a pat.

“Believe me, I’d love nothing more than to watch you come, but I made a promise.”

His admission, followed by the peck on the back of your thigh, made your toes curl in anticipation of what he had planned. You took some time to collect yourself, trying to ignore the pang that came from denying yourself an orgasm. Once you were ready, you let Seonghwa know.

It was like a rinse and repeat cycle, the way he kept edging you, only to stop when sweet bliss was about to arrive. Thankfully, after the third time of this, he sat up in front of you.

“I think you’re ready now.”

Mouth popping open in intrigue, you inquired, “So what should I do?”

“Just go along with it until you feel like you’re going to come. It’s going to feel like you have to pee also, but don’t fight it. Just push, okay?”

Hm. Simple enough.

“Okay.”

Seonghwa smiled at your compliance, giving your thigh a gentle rub before continuing to move the hand that made your pussy its new home. It might as well have, with the way it effortlessly slid and stroked all the spots that made you quiver. A sneaky part of your brain mused on why you never thought about getting intimate with your friend sooner.

But then you were struck with a feeling that sent an unexpected shock throughout your entire system.

What was that?

And then it happened again, only to come with an unwelcome weight below your belly button.

Fuck. Was this what he was talking about?

The longer he kept going, the more that pressure became overwhelming. It was a battle to fight with your brain to let it know that you weren’t going to have an accident. But once you got it to settle down, the feeling was so close.

You had to tell him. But your first attempt at speaking was useless, mouth parting only to let out yet another moan. With the most of your strength, you strained your vocal cords to choke out, “Seonghwa—!”

“Push.”

The desire to make the intense pressure go away was only stoked by his deep command, making something in you snap. With a strained cry, your hands flew down to tug at the sheets as bolts of lightning raced up and down your body. You faintly notice the tension in your lower belly dissipating a mite as you shook underneath Seonghwa. Remembering his instructions, you push your lower muscles as much as possible, feeling a sudden heat wash down your thighs.

You wanted to look and see if anything was happening down there, but the pleasure was overwhelming, forcing you to ride it out until your senses started to return. After what felt like eons, your body calmed down a little, although your hips would occasionally jerk.

Only when Seonghwa spoke did you become aware of your surroundings again.

“You did it.”

Those three words, teeming with pride, brought your heavy head up from the pillow. You looked up to see a pleased grin on his handsome face.

“D-Did I?”

His smile only grew wider, motioning you to take a peek between your legs. There was a delay from your brain to your body, but you managed to prop yourself up on your elbows. When you caught a glimpse, your mouth couldn’t help but pop open in shock.

The sight of your friend’s fingers stuffed in your pussy was already something to behold, but the extra details surrounding it only made it better. His hand glistened in the dim light of the room, along with your inner thighs. You had to look a little harder to notice the small wet spot on the towel, though.

“I did it…”

A swell of satisfaction built up in your chest as you gazed up at Seonghwa with amazement.

“I told you you could.”

Gratification and a hint of cockiness graced his tone, making a breathless giggle escape you.

“Wow…”

Your friend hummed pleasantly, his free hand coming up to give your hip a gentle rub.

“Did it feel good?”

Good? Good?

“It felt fucking amazing.”

Seonghwa laughed at your impassioned response. “Wonderful. I wasn’t going to take anything less.”

You matched his laugh, flopping back down onto the bed as you continued to get your bearings. As the shocks slowly wore off, your brain began racing. The feeling you had experienced just now was intense yet addicting. It seemed that your body wanted more of what your friend gave you, not helped by the fact that he still had his digits inside.

Feeling a little more prepared this time, you brought your head up.

“Seonghwa.”

He lifted a brow at your call, followed by a wiggle of your hips.

“I want to do it again.”

His face relaxed into one of understanding immediately. He waited for you to get comfortable before starting to move his fingers at a steady pace. It took less time for the heat to start building back up, making your mouth part to let consistent moans out again. The sensation built up faster than before, assisted by the suggestive words Seonghwa would throw in in between. When that urge hit again, you didn’t hesitate to speak.

“H-Hwa, I’m gonna—“

Seonghwa’s jaw tightened at your warning, clearly ready to bring you to that high point again. But rather than let you lay back like before, his other hand shot up behind your neck, cupping it with a firm grip. You were lost about his intentions until he lifted, enough to have you looking down and getting an eyeful of his fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt.

Just the sight alone pushed you even closer to the edge.

“Watch yourself make a mess, Y/N.”

And your friend’s harsh words tossed you over that cliff in no time.

You moaned loudly, making sure to keep your eyes peeled despite the urge to close them again. You’re able to push a little harder this time, getting a clear view of the small stream coming out between your legs.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby—”

Your head was unable to throw back at the pleasure coursing through your body, thanks to Seonghwa’s hold. The control he had on you was unexpected yet thrilling. You somehow managed to watch his face now, your gut flipping at the way he fixated on what was happening below. His thick brows were knitted and his lips pursed in concentration while he continued to drive his fingers back and forth.

But then he glanced up at your face, directing that heat onto you with little shame.

“Good girl. Let it all out.”

Thank God he decided to let your neck go then, because his praise made whatever control you had on yourself disappear, causing you to splay out on the bed. All you could do was lay back and let him continue to work you over and over again.

At one point, you could feel his fingers slip out and cover you, rubbing back and forth to make your mess spread out. Had this been earlier, you would have been embarrassed at the way it was getting everywhere, but the fog of the strong orgasms erased your worries. Only when one of your hands flew down to grab his wrist did Seonghwa stop, leaving you to deal with the aftershocks.

Holy fuck, your thighs could not stop shaking. And you could feel every muscle below your waist twitching.

Once a sense of relief washed over you, your fingers unwrapped from Seonghwa before your arms laid next to your head. You panted harshly as you tried to get your bearings and calm your lower half (you came this close to kicking your friend in the leg). His warm hand came up and rested on your hip, rubbing with care as he soothed you with words.

“That’s it, Y/N. You did well.”

You lulled into a sense of security, eyes lidding until your lashes brushed against each other. The temptation to drift off into sleep was incredibly strong right—

“Here.”

But then one of the water bottles appeared in front of your face, making you realize how thirsty you were all of a sudden. You gave Seonghwa a raspy ‘thank you’ before taking it, sitting up and wasting no time in drinking.

“Trust me, you’ll need it if you want to keep going.”

You chuckled around your bottle, bringing it down once you were halfway finished.

“I appreciate it, the last thing I want is dehydration.”

Your friend grinned in humor, taking a moment before questioning, “How are you feeling right now?”

An answer didn’t come right away because there were too many. But for now—

“Fan-fucking-tastic.”

Seonghwa laughed, the hand still on your thigh giving a gentle squeeze. “I created a monster, didn’t I?”

“Hey, you’re the one who offered to show me. If anything, you have to take responsibility.”

“Don’t worry, I will…once you’re back in order.”

You batted pathetically at his quip, only to rest your hand on your stomach as you continued to relax. The typical post-orgasm bliss crept up, although you ignored the desire to take a nap. Especially once you noticed the state your friend was left in.

The dim light gave you a clear view of how he strained against the fabric of his sweats, washing you over with a sense of pride.

“That seems like a problem.”

Seonghwa followed your stare, only to chuckle modestly and scratch the back of his neck.

“I’ll be fine.”

Your brow furrowed at his avoidance. “You sure?”

He was quick to shoot you a grin.

“Positive. This isn’t about me, remember?”

Oh Seonghwa. Sweet, considerate Seonghwa whose actions carried over to the bedroom as well. He probably thought you were only offering out of accountability, not knowing that it was far from that. You wanted to make him feel something tonight.

“I know, but—” You propped yourself up on your elbows. “—are you not interested?”

A wary glance. “…in?”

Time to let it out.

“In me…touching you.”

As you predicted, your friend was caught off-guard, surprise on his gorgeous face. He looked away a couple of times before he could finally meet your eyes. You nearly missed him whispering lowly, “I wouldn’t say that.”

A giddiness overtook at his answer. It gave you the nerve to say something you never imagined would leave the comfort of your mind.

“Would it be bad if I admit I want to suck you off?”

The way Seonghwa jolted visibly and hitched his breath at your blunt remark was a clear enough response.

“Y/N…”

“What? It gets me going. Besides, I want to at least give you something for making me feel so good.”

You weren’t given a verbal answer for a while, Seonghwa poking his tongue in his cheek while looking at you with contemplation.

“Are you sure?”

His question was met with a cheeky smile and a nod from you. They eased his expression into something more agreeable.

“Okay. Where do you want me?”

You sat up and scooted over, moving the towel’s wet portion before pointing at your previous spot.

“Lay down.”

Seonghwa was quick to follow your order, head resting on the pillows as he watched you reach for the last bits of fabric that was holding him back from being bare. Your fingers curled under the elastic of his pants and underwear and with a glance up and a lift of his narrow hips, you began sliding the waistbands down to reveal the effects of what had been going on.

Just the sight of his flushed and stiff cock had you letting out a low yet audible ‘fuck’, ripping his clothing off his long legs before taking your spot between them. Leaning your head in towards him, you were halted when one of his hands landed and gave the back of your neck a gentle grasp. Your eyes darted up to see him shake his head.

“Sit over here.”

Seonghwa patted the space to the left of his torso, prompting you to crawl back over him to follow his instructions. You kept your legs folded underneath your body, only to feel his hand cup your ass before lifting so you were on your knees now. As if he could hear your questioning thoughts, he muttered, “I want to keep touching you.”

All it took was his fingertips brushing your inner thighs before you leaned back down to get to work. Because of the angle, you had to wrap your fingers around him in order to reach with your mouth. Channeling all of the late night thoughts you’ve had about Seonghwa, you slipped your tongue out to run along his cock, soaking in the low groan heard from above. Turning your head, you peered at him.

“Good?”

Seonghwa blew out a short breath as he nodded, grunting, “Yes…keep going.”

Feeling more confident thanks to that, you did as he wished, making sure not to miss an inch of him. Up and down strokes turned into swirls and flicks, especially whenever you were near his tip (the sound he made from being in that area had you squirming). As soon as you heard your friend quietly begging for more, you parted your lips and began sinking down, the hand still gripping your ass digging in with a fierceness that made you jump.

“Shit, Y/N.”

But you didn’t let that deter you, stopping just when he was about to hit the back of your mouth before beginning to bob. You earned more of those beautiful noises from Seonghwa, along with fingers seeking out your soaked core, stroking and rubbing to have you vibrating around his dick with moans.

“You’re so fucking good with your mouth, baby—“

All of a sudden, you found your hands unable to stay still. Your right one slid onto his stomach, feeling the way his abdominals would tense and loosen constantly. The left one went down to his thighs, carefully running your nails along the muscled expanse. At one point, you got daring and crept up to graze his balls, earning a sudden thrust that made you gag for a second.

“Fuck, ‘m sorry.”

Seonghwa’s apology was swift yet gruff, the pleasure you were giving him obscuring any gentleness behind it. You didn’t mind, shooting him a glance and a thumbs up to signal that you were okay. As soon as you felt his hips relax and a careful pat on your bottom, you continued. His reactions to both your hands and mouth working him up were less sudden yet consistent, groans and hisses more audible than the soft music playing in the background.

When you started to feel him twitch more often and hear his breathing become erratic, you had to ask yourself where you were going to go with this. He accomplished his main goal already (multiple times), so it was only natural to finish him off before going your separate ways.

…right?

Honestly, you didn’t want to stop here.

It was incredibly dangerous to admit it, but you’ve already come this far with Seonghwa. What was the harm in taking this to the highest level? That is, if he was on the same page as you…

Carefully pulling off of him, you felt a pang of guilt at the low whine he gave from the loss of your mouth.

“Hwa.”

You could see his throat bob for a moment before he brought his head up, bangs clinging to his forehead as he looked down at you with nothing but heat.

“Y-Yes?”

Sitting up, you wiped the spit off your chin as you worked up the nerve to air out your want.

“Would you mind if…uh…”

Seonghwa tilted his head as he waited for you to continue.

“If?”

A deep breath. “If we…kept going.”

He processed your implication for a bit, his dark brown eyes widening when it clicked. His mouth parted into an ‘o’ as he forced himself to sit up.

“Y/N…we don’t have to go all the way. We can stop here.”

You couldn’t help but deflate a little at his answer, wondering if he wasn’t as interested in taking this further as you were.

“O-Oh. Do you not want to…?”

Your disappointment was prevalent in your voice, causing Seonghwa’s hands to wave in appeasement.

“No no no, that’s not it at all! I just don’t want you to feel obligated.”

Obligated? Obligated?

“Seonghwa.”

Your friend straightened up at your impassive call of his name.

“There’s no obligation if I really want to sit on your dick, now is there?”

His mouth dropped, opening and closing before he admitted sheepishly, “No…there isn’t.”

A smile graced your lips as you patted his leg.

“All I need to know is if we’re on the same page.”

Seonghwa sobered up at your remark, chewing on his lower lip as he seemed to debate his answer. His eyes went to the hand on his thigh for what felt like a while. Finally, he looked back up at your face, meeting your gaze with a conviction that wasn’t there before.

“We are.”

To say your heart did a somersault would be an understatement.

“So…you want to keep going?”

He nodded firmly. “I do.”

You couldn’t help but want to egg him on, to make sure this was something he completely wanted.

“How bad?”

What you got was Seonghwa adopting an expression that you were becoming familiar with today as he took a hold of your chin, pulling you close to his face before husking, “How bad? I don’t want you to leave this bed until I have you squirting and screaming on my cock, that’s how bad.”

Fuck. This was what you got for poking the bear. Now you were rendered speechless and even more needy than before. Your reaction brought a devious smirk to his lips.

“Does that answer your question?”

You were only capable of nodding and leaning in to say, “It sure does.”

It was unclear who started it first, but the two of you ended up in a passionate kiss, hands roaming each other’s bodies in the meantime. Only when you were desperate for air did it break, Seonghwa giving your waist a squeeze before getting up to stand next to the bed.

“Lay down, Y/N.”

You quickly followed directions, spreading the towel back out to be safe and laying on your back like earlier. He grabbed one of the pillows next to your head and motioned you to lift your hips, placing it underneath to have them at a slight angle. You welcomed the extra cushion, watching as he turned and went into his nightstand to search for what you assumed were his condoms. But he didn’t produce them right away, frowning slightly when he continued to rummage around in confusion.

You appreciated his caution, but…

“We don’t have to use that.”

Seonghwa paused, giving you a dumbfounded look.

“What…? Y/N.”

The skepticism in his tone forced you to meet his wary stare with a serious one.

“Really, Seonghwa, it’s fine. I’m clean and on the pill.”

“You are? Well…I’m safe too, I haven’t been with anyone for a while now.”

That was all you needed. Reaching out, you gave his hand a careful tug.

“Then get back in this bed so you can fuck me.”

Your direct words made him swear under his breath before climbing on and over you, slotting himself between your legs as you spread them. You brought your hands up to rest on his lower back, wanting to be as close as possible. Seonghwa reached down to take a hold of his cock and line himself up with your opening. When you felt him run his tip along your sensitive skin, you hissed and bucked your hips.

“Please…”

Biting his lip, he started entering. Your immediate reaction to the intrusion was hitched breathing and a slight dig of your nails. You must have had the dumbest look on your face right now, but Seonghwa had an equally dense expression as he slid into you. Only when he was mostly sheathed did you attempt to regain composure.

“You okay?”

Seonghwa’s raspy voice gave a small boost to your ego as it was clear he was struggling to acclimate to the sensation as well.

“Peachy. You?”

He laughed shortly at your strained pep. “Just try not to move for a bit, okay?”

You let out a giggle, bringing a finger up to tap his nose.

“Yes sir.”

After the light twitch you felt him give inside, you both laid still to adjust. Something about laying in Seonghwa’s bed together with nothing but the sounds of sensual music and your breathing combined made an odd warmth build in your chest. The lips that came down to plant tiny kisses all over your jaw and neck didn’t help stifle that feeling.

Soon enough, you were ready to move on.

“You good, Hwa?”

Your friend brought his head up, looking less apprehensive than before, a heat in his dark eyes.

“Yes. You?”

A nod was all that was needed.

“How do you want it?”

Honestly? At this point, you didn’t have a preference. You just wanted to experience more of your friend’s magic touch.

With your knees pressing closer to him, you breathed, “However you like.”

Seonghwa reacted to your offer with another twitch and a clench of his jaw. Giving you a look as if to say ‘you asked for it’, he balanced himself on his elbows before pulling his hips back, quickly replacing himself with a sharp exhale. The act had you making a sound of your own as well, only becoming louder when he sunk in again.

“Seonghwa—”

His dark eyes flickered up to yours.

“Good?”

“Y-Yeah.”

Lips quirking, he continued, building up a rhythm that started sending waves of gratification throughout your body. You were glad he kept the tempo moderate, testing what made you moan and tighten your legs around him. The pillow sitting underneath you did wonders as well, allowing him to reach areas that would’ve been more difficult without it. The way he cants his hips up has you searching for breath as he was getting closer and closer to stroking against that sweet spot, having you crying out all of a sudden when he finally pressed into it.

“Fuck—”

A throaty hum sounded above you before Seonghwa responded, “You like that, baby?”

Would you ever get used to him calling you that? Probably not, as an unmistakable tremble ran through you.

“Yes, Hwa…keep doing that.”

Seonghwa was quick to honor your wish, pumping in a way that had an unmistakably lewd sound echoing from between your hips. Fuck, when’s the last time you got this wet? You didn’t have any opportunity to think further as you began to hear heavy whispers all of a sudden.

“You’re even more gorgeous like this.”

“God, Y/N— Feel so fucking good!”

“You take me so well—”

Your head was spinning with all of the stimulation and you needed an outlet for the ball of energy building up inside you, so you grabbed onto the back of his neck to tug him down into a fiery kiss. Tongues were quick to seek each other out and tangle as Seonghwa kept fucking you thoroughly. Before you could realize, the same pressure from when he was fingering you made a comeback, slowly increasing until it was becoming too much.

You tried to pull away to warn your friend, only for him to keep capturing your mouth with his. The need coming from him was adorable, but you had to let him know. When you managed to part without him diving in immediately, you swiftly muttered ‘gonna come’, hoping he heard. But when the feeling hit your breaking point and your nails scraped his skin, he still wouldn’t let up.

Just as your orgasm was about to take you over, you frantically placed one of your hands between your sweat-soaked stomachs. A push to his lower abdomen forced Seonghwa to pull out, making you spray your come all over his cock with a sharp cry. The quivers immediately take over afterward, your eyes squeezing shut as you do your best to calm your muscles down, missing the way the man above you gaped down with shock.

He had gotten so caught up in you that the sudden withdrawal caught him off-guard. Everything started sinking in the longer he stared.

You just squirted on him.

Something about watching drops of your come roll off his cock makes him go a little crazy. He’s quick to grasp himself and slide back into you, his thrusts returning with a hint of urgency. Having him stimulating your still pulsating walls pulled sharp cries from your agape mouth, fingers digging into his back muscles.

“S-Seonghwa, shit—”

“Look at you—“ A nip to your bottom lip. “—said you couldn’t do it and now you’re just gushing everywhere.”

Oh…well, he did have a point. But you simply huffed and wrapped your legs tighter around his slender waist.

“More. Go harder.”

A guttural curse left Seonghwa, who quickly did as you asked, resulting in you gripping onto his shoulders now and becoming more vocal.

“Yes yes, fuck me just like that—“

He shook his head at your encouragement, rasping, “Who would have imagined that my lovely friend would have such a filthy mouth?”

You couldn’t help but laugh breathlessly. “It happens when I get fucked well.”

And fucked well, indeed. Seonghwa kept up the pace that was making your body sing, taking the opportunity every once in a while to seize your lips into a searing kiss. You appreciated the continued thoroughness from him, meeting him with the same energy by occasionally rolling your hips up or keening your praise. The words out of your agape mouth were only halted when you felt his hand slip between your bodies to give your throbbing bud a calculated swipe or two.

“Hwa—“

Something about the way you say his name makes his hand pull away all of a sudden. But your whine of withdrawal was interrupted when you felt the Earth spinning, finding yourself perched on his lap now. The change of position had you blinking owlishly.

That and the fact that the towel he had spread out had gotten awkwardly tangled between your legs.

“Hwa, the—”

Yet he was quick to remedy it by snatching the terrycloth and tossing it to the side.

“Fuck it, that’s what the laundromat is for.”

Your hand came up to cover the giggle that wanted to escape, humored by Seonghwa’s sudden one-eighty concerning his bedding. Although your giddiness died down swiftly once you got a good look at his appearance.

You know for a fact that your brain, even at its most creative point, would never have been able to conjure a sight as breathtaking as this.

Seonghwa flushed in multiple areas, sun-kissed skin glistening in the lamp light with sweat and chest heaving as he looked up at you like a man starved. All because of you.

This was an achievement that you’d be proud of for a long time.

“Feeling good?”

There was a slight delay to his response as he blinked.

“I…of course.”

You delivered a satisfied grin.

“Good. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

The man underneath you merely laughed and shook his head, seeing your statement as silly.

“Saying yes to me was more than enough, sweetheart.”

As if he couldn’t leave you even more sheepish, he took one of your hands and planted his lips on the back of it. The intimate touch cooled down your burst of confidence, melting into modesty now. You only loosened your hand to reach up and brush back the inky strands plastered to his forehead.

“It’s my pleasure. Seeing you like this is something that I never thought I needed.”

Seonghwa’s mouth dropped in awe at your admission and you swore you saw his cheeks become redder.

“Y/N…”

Before you could lose your stride, you leaned down, hovering above his face as you whispered, “Tell me how I can keep it up.”

What you got next was a firm grip on your hips and a low growl.

“Ride me.”

And so you do.

You hold onto the headboard and Seonghwa’s shoulder before giving him the ride of his life. You experiment with different angles, planting your feet and leaning forward at one point or using your knees to swivel your hips quickly. Whatever would make the man underneath curse or dig his fingers into your damp skin.

“So fucking good, Y/N—“

Sinking down on his cock continuously wasn’t enough after a certain point. Between the sounds of your skin clapping against his, you croaked out, “Touch me, please— Oh fuck—“

Seonghwa wasted no time in fulfilling your wish, hands roaming everywhere on your body. From cupping your bouncing breasts to pinching your stiff nipples to grabbing your ass, he made sure to be as thorough as possible. Only when he decided to start circling your clit did your rhythm falter, your upper half bowing forward.

“Oh my— Fuck, Seonghwa!”

The gravelly chuckle he let out should have been illegal. “Like that, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yes— Don’t stop.”

And so he continued stimulating you to the point that your head was starting to spin from pleasure overload. Before you realized it, you were starting to squeeze him often, the beginnings of yet another orgasm about to wash over you. You were too occupied in making all sorts of noises with your mouth to give your friend a heads up, though he didn’t seem to need it as he called you out all of a sudden.

“You keep getting tight on me—” Seonghwa’s free hand reached around to give your bottom a smack that caught you by surprise. “—go on, Y/N. Make a mess on my cock.”

Was it what he said or the spank that triggered you? There was no point in stewing over it as either one was responsible for pushing you over the edge, a whine coming out as your body stilled and shook above him.

“There you go…that’s my girl.”

Somehow you were able to hear his praise, making your stomach flip even harder than it already was. When your tremors died down, you rested your forehead on his afterward, hoping he didn’t mind being used for support. The gentle rubbing on your hips that came eased your worries. Once you got your bearings, you couldn’t help but let your eyes trail down, not at all surprised to see the mess you left on his lower stomach.

You laughed airily, “I’m just ruining your sheets.”

Seonghwa merely hummed with a lack of offense, giving you a light pat.

“It’s worth it.”

He leaned up to steal another kiss from you, gentler compared to the most recent ones. But during the lip lock, you could feel weariness take over, making you blow out a breath after breaking the contact.

“Fuck, I’m exhausted all of a sudden.”

Your friend frowned at your words, reaching up and brushing some hair out of your face. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Mhm. Just give me a minute or two.”

Your body was quick to betray you, a yawn coming out immediately after. It didn’t help that Seonghwa laughed.

“I don’t know, Y/N, you look like you’re ready for bed.”

“Ugh, I’m not! Besides, you haven't come yet, I can’t leave you hanging like that.”

Seonghwa was quick to raise a brow, looking a little more strict now.

“So? Really, if you can’t take anymore, we can stop. I’ll just take care of myself.”

You appreciated his concern, but you just weren’t having it. This was going to end with a bang. The only way to make him understand was to hold his handsome face between your hands and give him a relentless stare.

“Seonghwa, I can keep going, I promise. I’m doing this all because I want to and this is no exception. As long as you don’t mind doing most of the work for me?“

As much as he fussed over you at times, you had to alleviate his concern so he wouldn’t worry his head off completely. Now was one of those instances and the longer you kept eye contact, the more he seemed to become at ease.

“Okay.”

The sweet smile you gave him erased whatever lingered, his lips curling softly. He leaned up to give you a peck, sitting up and wrapping his arms around your waist. With a heads up, he maneuvered you onto your back, making sure to keep himself housed inside. To your surprise, Seonghwa didn’t begin moving immediately. Thinking he needed some encouragement, you linked your legs around his hips and gave a light tug.

A sharp inhale was all you received before he returned to thrusting again.

It became clear to you a short while in that he held off due to being closer than you realized. His breathing was more uneven and his kisses became borderline desperate, only making your stomach flip in delight at seeing this man in such a state.

“Y/N, I’m—”

Seonghwa’s sudden rasp caught you off-guard, noticing how his brows knitted together and he struggled to keep himself composed. To see that he was the one getting beaten with pleasure now had you wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine.

With a deceptively curious expression, you ran your nails up and down his sweat-soaked back before leaning into his ear to whisper, “Gonna come for me, Hwa?”

A thrill ran down your spine at the shudder you felt him give as he nodded quickly. Out of nowhere, a sinful idea came into your head. What you were about to say was so out of pocket, even for your usual bedroom talk, but Seonghwa just seemed to bring the worst out of you today.

And so you licked your lips and decided to husk, “Come inside me.”

You could hear your friend let out an audible gasp, hips stuttering in complete bewilderment. You were concerned that you had taken it too far, as you didn’t hear him respond for a moment. But then his forehead landed on yours and he locked his blazing irises with your own, looking borderline feral. His thrusts also took their speed up a notch, making you whine at the increase in friction.

“I’m going to fill this pussy up, make it even wetter—”

His growl made you tremble for a second, but you remained steady otherwise.

“Like you’ve always wanted to do?”

Your question made Seonghwa stare at you for a bit, broken by a throaty chuckle as he leaned in to brush his lips against the shell of your ear.

“You have no fucking idea, Y/N—“

With a nip to the skin, there were no more words exchanged as your bodies continued working together in tandem. You had to admit; there was a part of you that didn’t want this to end. You could honestly stay in this room and this bed with Seonghwa a little longer.

Just the two of you, indulging in each other.

But your unrealistic wish was broken when you felt him stiffen suddenly, letting out a heated groan as you felt him shake above you. The strong twitching of his cock against your walls was quickly followed by a warmth that coated them. Feeling him spill inside gave you the mildest of orgasms, manifesting in the most minuscule of tremors in your lower body. You couldn’t help but let your own come out a bit at the sensation, biting your lip at the way Seonghwa groaned from the feeling.

Once he finally calmed down, he carefully slid out to roll off of you and onto his back, leaving the littlest of spaces between your bodies. Your eyes remained on him as he caught his breath, looking over his disheveled appearance with wonder.

His lightly tanned skin reddened and shining with exertion. Eyelids shut. Chest rising and falling quickly. And yet, he still looked as stunning as ever.

Not fair.

But you smiled anyways, realizing another privilege was checked off your list; seeing Park Seonghwa looking fucked out as all hell.

“All better now that you proved me wrong?”

He gave a weak laugh.

“Much better.”

Even exhaustion couldn’t dim down his sass.

You gave his side a playful swat in return, receiving a snicker. The laugh died down, leaving a comfortable silence paired with a song that you often had on repeat. You were going to give Seonghwa some room to recover, but the more you mulled over it, the more you wanted to have some type of contact with him again.

So you rolled onto your side and scooted closer, letting your leg brush against his faintly. The touch made his eyes open, head turning slowly to gaze at you. He watched you for a moment, only for a pleasant smile to come across his lips.

“Hello.”

You couldn’t hold back your grin.

“Hi.”

Seonghwa kept his eyes on yours, only to bite his lip after a bit, looking less sure than earlier.

“Thanks for…entertaining me.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his sudden shyness. Where was the demon from before?

“My pleasure. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind doing this again with you.”

Your confession pulled rapid-fire blinking from your friend, his cheeks turning scarlet now.

“R-Really?”

“Mhm. Though you might want to get a mattress protector or something next time.”

Your suggestion eased his awe, laughing as he responded, “I will keep that in mind. Or we could try it at your place next?”

“And mess up my good sheets? No way!”

One of his brows raised. “And you think my sheets aren’t good?”

“I didn’t say that— Ugh.”

You went to give his chest a light swat, only to find its impact weaker than expected, thanks to the sudden wave of fatigue. The halfhearted attempt only made him giggle with mischief.

“Forget it, I’m too fucked out to argue with you, Hwa.”

Seonghwa laughed quietly, reaching out to pull you close and rest your head on his chest, making your heart skip.

“Then why don’t we just take it easy for a moment before cleaning up, hm?”

His offer was so tempting, although maybe you should get up right away. But the idea became enticing the longer you laid on him, melting into his warm touch.

Fuck it.

“Fine, but don’t let me fall asleep, okay?”

Not that you were completely against it.

Seonghwa hummed in understanding, the vibration felt against your cheek. Your eyelids lowered halfway, your body falling into a state of relaxation. Between the music, his steadying heartbeat and the breathing that slowly evened out, you could already guess that staying awake would have been impossible.

Before you could possibly doze off, you processed everything that had occurred since you stepped foot in this apartment today. Seonghwa had shown you a side that you never dreamed of seeing, only thought about while you were in the comfort of your own private space. And they were thoughts that you convinced yourself would never come true.

But here you were, naked in the same bed that you often sat on and watched your friend play Animal Crossing (paired with comments from you on how Tom Nook was the biggest crook).

The biggest thing that stuck with you was how Seonghwa seemed to want you just as much, shown in the way he took care of every one of your needs. His patience with figuring out what made you tick and making sure you were consistently comfortable was more than you expected. Should you have anticipated any less from him, though?

A pleasant ball of warmth started forming in your chest while the tiniest of smiles graced your lips.

No, you shouldn’t have.

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[tpwrtrmnky]

lockdown

[ID 1: Three-panel comic, first out of four, with crudely drawn stick people.

Panel 1: The sky is blue and peaceful, with some clouds. Someone says "Ah..."

Panel 2: An orange person with dog ears is laying on the grass.

Orangepup Dogsaturated: "Despite the weirdness, it's nice here.

I think... I'm enjoying my fate as an orangepup dogastur-"

They are interrupted by barking.

Orange: "Huh?"

Panel 3: A green person with dog ears and a tail, who is holding a gun, stands over Orange. There is a tree in the background and some windmills on top of a hill in the distance. The barking continues.

Green: "Comrade Hot Pink is sounding the alarm. Come quick. We're going on lockdown."

Orange: "Huh? What are we-"

Green: "No time. Now."

ID 2: Three panel comic continuing from above.

Panel 1: Orange is led by Green down some stairs from outside.

Orange: "What's going on? Expository doctrine please?"

Green: "It's too dangerous. Safety first, explanation after."

Panel 2: Green shuts a vault door as Orange and a blue person with dog ears and sunglasses, as well as some sort of bandolier and a walkie-talkie, watches. The room is a plain beige with a simple ceiling light.

Green: "There."

Orange: "ok can someone explain now"

Blue: "Allow me."

Panel 3: Zoom in on Blue, who looks down dramatically.

Blue: "You must understand, young Orange. As much as we wish to trust you, there are circumstances where safety for the commune comes first.

We are aware that you have certain... Rhetorical susceptibilities, and so could not risk having you make contact with them."

Orange: "Who? Who are they?"

Blue: "One who destroys discourse."

End ID 2, begin ID 3.

Three panels once again.

Panel 1: A split view of a loft and the bunker. A hot pink person with fluffy ears is speaking on the walkie-talkie, while an onyx-colored person with dog ears and long claws is aiming a rifle out the window.

Hot Pink: "Comrade Blue. Onyx is ready. Do we have majority ethical consent?"

Blue: "Take the shot. If we later vote against, I will take accountability for the decision myself."

Orange: "What"

Panel 2: A view of Onyx staring down the scope of the rifle from outside of the window, as Blue narrates.

"You must understand, Orangepup Dogsaturated.

There are many who despise us. Many who would do anything to see us destroyed."

Panel 3: The narration continues from a view from the outskirts of the farm area. A mountain is in the distance, and a pair of grayscale legs are in the foreground, framed by some tree trunks.

"The horrific lesson we have learned...

Is that there is no low that outsiders can be trusted not to sink to.

And the danger of this interloper lies in their ability to provide others with all the excuses they need to justify their hatred."

Interloper: "I..."

End ID 3, begin ID 4. You know what this image is by now.

Panel 1: The Most Illiterate Person Alive, a grayscale individual wearing a book on their head, emerges from the woods, saying: "I am the most illiterate person ali-"

They are cut off by a view of Onyx pulling the trigger, which results in a view of the bullet going straight through the head of the most illiterate person alive, emerging in a shower of gore.

This continues to be a crudely drawn stick people comic.

Panel 2: Inside the barn loft, Hot Pink and Onyx are contacting the others.

Hot Pink: "Comrade Blue, we've confirmed a direct hit! Target eliminated!"

Onyx: "Wait. There's movement."

The Most Illiterate Person Alive: "Holy.

Fucking.

Shitfuck."

Panel 3: A front view of The Most Illiterate Person Alive, blood seeping out of the hole in the front of their face. They are framed in darkness and surrounded by a menacing red glow.

The Most Illiterate Person Alive: "I cannot believe"

The text color is inverted and changes to a more hostile font.

"You actually thought that you had any chance of killing me?"

End ID.]

Start - Previous - Next

[nebulaafterdark]

The Succession (Part 4)

Summary: After the battle of Rook’s Rest, Queen Y/N is forced to rule alongside Prince Regent Aemond, in an attempt to keep her children safe and eventually seat her mother, Rhaenyra, on the throne. While attending her husband, on what appears to be his deathbed, she begins to unravel the dark truth of his near passing.

Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“Shhh,” Daemon rocks his wailing grandson.

Aegon the fourth remained quiet during their ride to Harrenhal, though he has since realized the man holding him is not his father.

“Are congratulations in order?” Alys calls. “I’d no idea you were expecting a babe.”

“He’s not mine,” Daemon tells her, “and he very well knows it.”

“Where did he come from?” The woman wonders.

“Come,” he ignores the question, “you’ve got the hair, see if he’ll take to you.”

“Her grace’s son.” Alys realizes, “I can’t imagine she’s happy about that.”

“If men off the streets can steal one of her heirs, anyone could.” Daemon reasons, “she has left the children weakly protected. I solved the issue.”

“If you say so,” the woman takes the babe from him, carefully. “Does he have a name?” Princess Y/N’s line is ever growing, it’s impossible to remember them all.

“Aegon, fourth of his name.”

“Named for the Conqueror,” Alys coos, allowing the child to take hold of her dark locks.

“My son, Aegon, is named after the Conqueror, this child was named for his father.”

“This babe is of very old magic.” She tells him, “he knows your distaste of those dearest to him.”

“He is a babe.” Daemon scoffs, “he knows naught but to feed and wet.”

“Yet he cries for you, and quiets for me.”

“Because you have the hair.”

————————————————————————

Y/N’s search for Aemond continues as members of the King’s guard race about the castle.

From the windows of the Keep, smallfolk call out. “Dragons!”

“Dragons?” Y/N stops one of the white cloaks with her hand.

“You must return to his grace, my Queen. We are under attack.”

“What of my son?”

“No stone will be left unturned, your grace. The Prince will be found.” The guard assures her.

Y/N releases his arm, taking the stairs two at a time down to the dragon pit. “I need Stormborn.” She tells the nearest keeper.

“Your grace?” The woman turns to her, “she has not flown since the loss of Sunfyre.”

“I’ll see to her myself,” Y/N decides, rushing past her. Her children’s dragons and Dreamfyre pay her little mind.

Stormborn lies with her head resting on her front legs.

“Rytsas, ñuha riña.” Hello, my girl. She addresses her in High Valryian.

The dragon whines.

“Nyke gīmigon iksā ojūdan mijegon Sunfyre. Iksan ojūdan tolī, yn istiti sīmonagon toliot īlva ōdres se sōvegon hēnkirī istin tolī.” I know you are lost without Sunfyre. I am lost too, but we must rise above our pain and fly together once more.

Stormborn extends her wing, allowing Y/N to climb onto her saddle.

“Sōvegon.” Fly.

————————————————————————-

“Is it terribly painful, father?” Visera asks, seated beside Dahlia on the right side of Aegon’s bed.

“Well, it is not pleasant.” Aegon admits, feeling her little fingers squeeze his. “But I have the maesters and your mother to help care for me. Each day the pain is less.”

Dahlia says nothing, staring at her father with tears in her eyes.

“Do not cry, my dearest love.” Aegon breathes.

“I worry for you, father.” She sobs.

“Come here.” He reaches for her with his unharmed arm.

“Mother said we mustn’t touch you.”

“See here, where the bandages are?” Aegon motions to his left side. “That is where I am hurt, you can touch me safely on this side. It’s alright.”

Dahlia carefully lies her head against his shoulder.

Aegon strokes her silver hair. “This will pass.”

She nods.

“Say it to me,” so he knows she understands.

“This will p-pass,” the little girl chokes out.

Visera rubs her sister’s back.

“Are you still doing alright, my darling?” Aegon asks his second eldest daughter.

“Yes, father.”

He catches her hand at Dahlia’s back giving a squeeze.

Laenor is easily entertained on the floor by Chérie, at only two years of age he does not understand that his father is fragile. The prince loves to pounce on his Papa.

When he finally does point toward his father, Chérie takes him into her arms, holding him over Aegon’s bed. “My Papa.”

“That is your Papa.” Chérie smiles, smoothing a hand through his light curls.

“I love you, sweet boy.” Aegon grins, despite the pain it causes.

The little boy looks to Chérie, “him wants a kiss?”

Aegon swallows hard, “I should love a kiss, but no hands please.”

Chérie is sure to hold Laenor’s arms to his sides as she dips him down to meet his father’s cheek.

“Oh, thank you, my darling. I feel much better.” Aegon thanks him. “Chérie?”

“Yes, your grace?”

“Might we have the maids so you are free to check in on our other endeavors?” Y/N and Aegon IV.

“At once, my King.” Chérie nods.

————————————————————————

“Has there been any lead on the Queen’s whereabouts?” Ser Criston asks.

“We’ve word from the dragonkeepers, they say she took to the sky.”

“I see the same two dragons,” Cole remarks. “Neither of which belong to her grace. Bring them down.”

Vermax and Moondancer circle the Red Keep, despite the firing of arrows from the castletop.

Jace spots his sister’s dragon, flying up to meet them.

“What are you doing?” Y/N demands, once she’s within earshot.

“We’ve come to provide you safe passage to Dragonstone.”

“Mother sent you?”

“No.” Jacaerys purses his lips.

“You must return to her. I cannot leave.” Y/N informs him, “Aegon is missing, stolen from his rooms. Guards are searching the halls as well speak.”

“How’d someone manage to steal the King?” Jacaerys wonders.

“My son,” Y/N clarifies. “I believe Aemond had a hand in it, but I’ve not been able to find him.”

“We will find him together,” Baela offers.

“I mean to kill him.”

“Even better,” Jace remarks.

A cluster of clouds roll over the sun, shrouding the earth in darkness. Then the storm breaks, and the dragons dance.

————————————————————————-

“Hold your fire!” Ser Criston calls, “that is your Queen.”

The arches lower their arrows, watching on as Vhagar charges one of the smaller dragons.

Despite Stormborn’s strength, she is but a third the size of Vhagar.

“Who is with the Queen?”

Cole paid little mind to the dragons, until a few short days ago. He knows the King’s and the Queen’s. Vhagar, of course. But he knows little of Rhaenyra’s dragons and from their current position, it is impossible to identify their riders. “It matters little. Rally the maesters now, they must prepare to receive her grace.”

“For what injuries?” The archer asks.

“Those similar to the King’s.”

“His grace was wearing armor made of Valryian steel…the Queen will not survive a fall of the same magnitude in only her riding gear.”

“I said ready the maesters!” Ser Criston snaps.

One of the smaller dragons fall, green with red wings, into the surrounding woods.

“Locate the fallen dragon and their rider. They must be identified.”

————————————————————————

“Jace!”

Moondancer is trapped in Vhagar’s hold as Y/N circles back, soaring up over Vhagar.

“Sir, Stormborn!” Now, Stormborn.

The dragon growls, sinking her talons into the larger dragon’s eyes.

Y/N tugs her reigns upwards, effectively blinding the beast and allowing Baela to escape her clutch. “Go now!” Y/N yells, hoping the other woman can hear her over Vhagar’s howling.

Aemond tries desperately to calm her, but the dragon is no longer heeding his command.

Baela nods, taking Moondancer to ground in search of Vermax and Jacaerys.

More damage has been done to the old dragon than even Y/N realized. The flapping of her wings slows, her blood staining the earth beneath them. Vhagar uses her last bit of strength to fly Aemond level with Stormborn.

Like a man possessed, he jumps, sword drawn onto Y/N’s saddle. Sinking his blade clean through her left shoulder. He grunts, crudely yanking it free, “I meant it for your heart.”

Y/N swings her leg out, kicking at him, as she clutches her injury. Scarlet droplets blooming between her fingers.

Aemond scoffs, “you’re finished, bastard.”

At her rider’s command, Stormborn leans to her left…and Aemond falls.

Part 5

Series Taglist: @oh-you-mean-me @barnes70stark @lovelyteenagebeard @niyahnotnia @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @callsignwidow @hyde-jpg @novelswithariana @klutzylaena @ynbutbetter @ravenqueen27 @danart501 @woodlandwrites @saraiadg @tempo-rary-fix @lxdyred @supernaturalstilinski @httpvomitello @dd122004dd @shadowrose13-blog1 @dracaryxzs @magictrump @vee-mage @mrs-starkgaryen @labellapeaky @multifandom-loser @minttea07 @blackdiamond2317 @baybaybear1

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Okay, so this is a little inspired by @dazzle02's post right here. Enjoy! 🥰

"Let me move in with you," said Evan.

And.

And Tommy looked up at Evan.

Blinking.

There wasn't anything particularly special about tonight. Neither of them had that bad of a shift the day before, all things considered. It was after dinner. They were both in pajamas watching Shark Week. Besides Shark Week, there wasn't anything life-altering or important that would have made Tommy remember this lazy Thursday night.

But then again, something amazing always happened with Evan around.

Life-altering was Evan's modus operandi.

They met when Tommy was flying them into a hurricane. They got together after Evan maimed one of his best friends. Their second official date was at a last-minute hospital wedding when the original wedding had been canceled.

Dating Evan was nothing Tommy had ever experienced before.

And Tommy never wanted to stop.

"What?" Tommy laughed, not sure if he heard that right.

He was staring up at Evan. His head was in Evan's lap and Evan just - he kept playing with the curls in Tommy's hair; staring down at Tommy like he never wanted to look away from Tommy as he said, "Let me move in with you."

And it harkened back to that beer Evan still owed Tommy.

That Tommy was never going to let Evan give him. No, Tommy loved the idea of still being tied like that. To forever joke about the beer Evan still owed him.

"You want to move in with me?" asked Tommy.

And it wasn't that Tommy was against it. The moment Evan brought it up, all Tommy wanted to say was yes, yes, of course, Evan, yes.

But.

They had only been dating maybe four months at this point. Tommy wasn't against the breakneck pace Evan seemed the most comfortable in, but at the same time, that was a big decision. And that wasn't to say that Tommy didn't believe that Evan would want this, but it was always good to be absolutely sure.

"You've got a kickass garage. You've got the best beer in town. I heard a beast lives here. Why wouldn't I want to too?" asked Evan.

"Evan."

"Tommy."

Tommy snorted.

"Tommy, I hate my loft. I hate my fucking loft. I got it with my girlfriend Aly because she liked it, and then she almost immediately broke up with me. I haven't been able to decide on a damn couch in that place. I don't know why I have two balconies," said Evan, "But none of that is even why I'm offering this."

Tommy laughed.

"Offering?"

"Tommy, I - I miss you," said Evan with all his heart; a little broken.

Tommy reached out; placed a hand on Evan's cheek.

"Evan. I'm right here," said Tommy softly.

"I miss you when I wake up and you hadn't slept over. I miss you when I try out a new dish and you're not there to taste-test it. I miss seeing you just randomly reading Chef's Choice or The Dos and Donuts of Love or - or How to Find a Princess or Better Than People or The State of Us on your couch whenever I walk into your house with the key you gave me. I miss the lavender you insist on making your house smell like. I miss you when I get in my car and realize we won't be carpooling. That you won't insist on driving and I won't get to play you music as we start our drive early so we can take a scenic way to my work or yours. I just miss you. All the time. I want to fucking live in your pocket. Which is a lot. I know. But I want that. I want you. And I'm so sure you want that too."

And.

And okay, if they were being honest.

"Evan, I - I wake up and it feels empty if you're not here. If you're not sprawled on top of me when I wake up. If you're not laughing and insisting that we take a shower together. That if we do, we'll be saving water. Despite the fact that you know full well that it takes double the time with how distracted we get. I miss you when I walk up to my coffee maker and you're not there to play the 'guess how Tommy takes his coffee' game that I think you're failing on purpose at this point - "

"No, I'm not," said Evan like a liar.

"Oh, I know you are," laughed Tommy, "But I kind of love that because it's still fun. And I miss you when you're not there to get into my Mustang with that jerry-rigged contraption of yours that somehow forces Bluetooth to work on my stereo. And how you keep showing me all these new and amazing songs I never would have dreamed of finding on my own."

"People are sleeping on Kehlani," said Evan.

"Yeah. I know," agreed Tommy, "And - and I miss you when I don't get to kiss you goodbye and hear you say you'll see me after your shift. And I miss you when you're not there to pick me up or if I'm not there to pick you up and you kiss me hello and ask how my day was and tell me all about yours. And I'm not saying we need to be glued together. But I am saying that every moment I get with you makes my whole day better. My week. My month. My year. My life. And, uh. I don't know, maybe you owe me moving into my house."

Evan laughed.

"Oh, I owe you now, huh?"

"I mean, you offered. Pay up. Move in."

Evan laughed harder, leaning down to kiss Tommy. And it was an awkward angle, and the kiss was a bit messy, but it left Tommy breathless; left Tommy swimming in overwhelming yes.

"Okay. I guess I'm moving in," said Evan happily, his smile soft and so excited.

"Yeah, you are," said Tommy as he pulled Evan back into another mind-blowing kiss.

[asumi2020202]

The Right Choice

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader(slight), Daeron Targaryen x reader

Summary: After everything that has happened, you thought he would change. Only for him to inflict a bigger scar as your hope for this marriage vanishes into thin air.

A/n:Thank you for reading.

Alternate ending of: Everything has a Price to Pay

_______________________________ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ__

War was at its peak. It had been almost two weeks since the last time you met Aemond in your shared chambers. Your wounds had healed leaving behind just some aches.

You knew that he didn't speak the truth. The informer of the green, Larys Strong had informed them that Aemond had returned to Harrehal. And that his whore was pregnant with his bastard.

You knew he would do so. You knew he would not be able to keep his word. Because if he truly was faithfully, then he wouldn't had slept with her in the first place.

You didn't really feel anything. You were disappointed,Yes, but you wouldn't hold him back if he did love her. You had your son and your family.

Instead of being dissatisfied with his actions and crying over it, you thought of asking your eldest brother to annul the marriage.

Aemond had broken the gentle girl you once were. The pain and betrayal numbed your mind. No longer did you care of what the others would say.

_________________________________________

Word had been sent to the Red Keep from Harrehal that Prince Aemond would bring back his whore to the Keep.

Your numbed soul hurt. Alicent had didn't even want to call him her son but she couldn't deny it.

He had stated that a room should be prepared for... Alys. The name of his whore.

You simply couldn't stand the thought of being with him again. Not when that perpetrator would also stay with his whore inside your very home.

You asked the maids to shift your belongings and your son's to another room. Your mother, the dowager queen had told you to stay with Helaena since Aegon doesn't sleep with her.

She thought that since both of you had the same fate, you could find comfort in each other.

You had agreed. Hastily leaving the room along with your son to find your eldest brother, the king.

_________________________________________

Aemond had landed near the dragon pit. He got off of Vhagar before carefully taking Alys off of Vhagar as well.

Alys had tried to touch Vhagar. Trying to pet her like Aemond does but Vhagar gave a loud and angry growl. And almost tried to bite her before Aemond intervened.

Alys fearful of the dragon, hid behind Aemond.

He turned and saw Moonfyre giving a very angry and loud scream towards them before both the female dragons flew off in the sky.

Aemond, turning his gaze back to Alys, guided her inside.

_________________________________________

As he walked through the garden and inside the corridors, he could see you talking to someone. It was a man. He too had white hair like him and was tall like him.

Aemond asked a passing maid to escort Alys to her room before he saw you coming towards his direction. The man going the opposite direction.

As you tried your hard to walk past Aemond and avoid him, he grabbed your hand.

"Y/n.." he started.

You turned to look at him. He felt a pang of hurt in his chest. Your eyes looked hollow unlike the way it shined when you conversed with the other man.

" It was just one night . I didn't think she would get pregnant. I couldn't leave her there, knowing our enemies might attack any time. I really am guilted. I didn't wish to hurt you love. Please forgive me." He spoke, looking at your face as you looked outside.

"I'm sorry I couldn't satisfy you. That you sought out another woman for pleasure." You said. He was about to speak but you didn't give him the chance.

"From now on you can live with her. I hold no grudge. After all, it is my fault for not being able to hold my husband to myself.

But don't worry you can love her as much you wish from now. You and I will only be related through blood and name, nothing else. I already found someone who will love me."

"My love. I don't understand what you mean. Found another? We are married. I am your husband and you are my wife." He spoke up, hoping you didn't mean what he thought you mean. Anger and jealousy in his voice.

"No longer. I had asked Aegon to annul our marriage after you're raven arrived. And he did so. The whole of kings landing knows of what you did brother. The council has decided that me and my twin will marry each other so I can be relieved of the shame you bestowed upon me. Daeron and I did loved each other before he was sent to old town.

Now that I am no longer bound to you, I am free to marry him and my son does need a father. Aegon assured me that my son will be acknowledged by the people as mine and Daeron's son, as the people haven't seen Aenor yet. You would be wise to not disturb us." You spoke with venom as you walked away.

Annul the marriage? Your twin? When did Daeron return from old town? Aenor will be claimed as Daeron's son. His younger brother.

So many thoughts went around Aemond's head. He had messed up everything just for pleasure. He lost the only who loved him for who he was and now she left him along with his son.

Defeated, he asked a maid to escort him to where Alys was.

_________________________________________

All the family had gathered in the dining hall. Aemond came in and saw everyone already chatting and conversing. His eyes looked for you until they did find you.

In your right sat Helaena, conversing with you. And on your left, in his seat, sat Daeron.. he saw how the two of you held hands and occasionally smiled at each other.

His thoughts were disturbed as he felt a tugging on his arm. It was Alys.

The entire family's laughter and peace was stopped due to the unwanted face in the dining hall.

"Brother. I thought that this hall was only for family, you had been the one to tell me that. And yet you bring some whore here. Aren't you acting hypocritical?" Aegon said. Giving a disgusted look towards Alys.

Aegon noticed your discomfort with Alys present. He knew he treated his wife the same but Helaena was weird to him. Yet you... were his perfect little sister.

Aegon had completely changed after becoming the king. He couldn't quit drinking but he didn't go to brothels.

"Alys will be eating with us from now on. And I suggest you show her some respect." Aemond replied as Alys looked down.

"Suggest? Hah!" Aegon laughed. "Are you trying to intimidate me brother? I am the king. Your whore is of little worth to me." Aegon continued.

"Aegon." Alicent tried to stop her son. She got up from her seat and came around the table at your side and gently placed her hand on your arm.

"I could behead you and whore at once for the shame you brought to the house and my sister." Aegon said as Aemond had nothing to reply with. He only looked at your face as you turned away.

"Guards. Escort prince Aemond and that.... Witch! to their chambers." Aegon ordered as the said people were escorted away.

You looked at Daeron as he offered you a smile which you reciprocated and intertwined your hands together.

_________________________________________

"How could you?! You ruined everything that I had! Just to cover up one lie of yours! You decieved me!!"

"I'm sorry Aemond but I needed money to raise my child! I had to do it. I am sorry if I hurt you.. but I do accept that I never loved you to begin with."

Hurt?! You took everything from me! My child! My wife! My family!.. And now you tell me that... The child is not even mine?!!

Shouting could be heard throughout the castle.

Alys had been secretly seeing and writing to her lover. Not Aemond. Aemond had accidentally seen them kissing when he entered the room.

She confessed that she was pregnant before they even laid with each other. That the child was of her lover's.

Aemond in a fit of rage even slapped her when she told him that she only stayed with him for money to run away with her lover.

Aemond felt betrayed. Just as he felt when his father didn't take his side when he lost his eye. He felt blocked from all sides. Because of his mistake, no one in his family believes him anymore.

He ran out the door as fast as he could. He hastily reached the dragon pit and mounted Vhagar.

He took off to the place where Aegon had been coronated. As got off and pushed through the crowd. Tears flowed from his eye.

There you stood before the crowd. You and Daeron. As the High Septon finished his speech. You lips and palms were already cut. By the time he reached, you two were drinking from the cup.

He saw the way you both kissed eachother so lovingly, the same way he did when you both got married. But now he had to see his brother do that to you.

His mother, the dowager Queen. His brother, the king. His grandsire, the Hand. His sister, the Queen. All stood there and smiled. The crowd were cheering. Yet Aemond felt bitter.

_________________________________________

The Dowager Queen and The Hand had left for the Red Keep along with the King and the Queen.

Daeron was mounting Tessarion and you Moonfyre. Aemond ran to meet you. As he did, you looked down at him.

"It isn't mine. That child isn't mine." Aemond spoke. He was panting, having to run all the way to you.

"Oh that.. I already knew. Helaena told me 2 days after I last met you." You spoke calmly.

"Already knew?" He felt confused.

"Well if my mind serves properly, Helaena told me through her riddle 'The one who he sacrificed for is not his own.' "

Aemond didn't even know what to say, so you spoke for him.

"Brother..... I know it was a mistake you made. I won't blame you for seeking love hence I forgive you for what you did but I don't know if mother will. I am thankful to you." You spoke.

"Why would you thank me for what I did?" Aemond didn't understand what you said.

"I am thankful because for your mistake I was reunited with my twin, my husband. I blindly thought I loved you but it seems that I was wrong. I can only give you one advice... Move on." You said the last sentence coldly, not sparing him even a glance. And with that Moonfyre and Tessarion flew into the sky, roaring from above.

Aemond stood there, his one eye saw your pain and anguish. His tears fell endlessly as he stared into the sky.

_________________________________________

You stood near the corridor of the second floor, staring at the training yard. While your husband, Daeron, cradled your son to his chest.

You turned to your husband as he gently kissed you with one hand cupping your cheek and tilting your head up.

"I am to go get a dragon egg for my little princess." Daeron said as his eyes travel to your stomach.

"Princess? How do you know it'll be a girl? I am betting a barrel of wine that it'll be a boy. Mother's intuition." You replied to your husband, smirking at him.

"Let's see who will win. The father or the mother." Daeron spoke, giving you his kinky smile. You got on your toes to kiss his cheek as you both were leaving for your chambers.

Beknownst to you, Aemond had seen everything you two were doing. He felt hurt. Hurt because he couldn't experience it. Hurt because he saw how happy you were with his brother. He regretted everything he had done that day. The day he laid with the whore.

He saw you both leaving. While he was blinking away his tears, he saw you angle your head a little towards him. He saw you smile and rotate you head back to the front.

He heard you say a sentence before you left with you husband and child. One that completely broke him.

..."I finally made The Right Choice".......

-Lillian

[ripdragonbeans]

You Win II // modern!Aemond x reader

Summary: You and Aemond have fallen in love, steady in a relationship built of trust and love. All that is challenged when Aemond takes a class led by Professor Rivers.

TW: indefinitely, manipulation, p in v, afab reader, violence, Aemond is an idiot

Part I • Epilogue

Empty. Completely empty. 

Numb. You felt nothing 

Cold. There was no warmth in your life anymore.

That's all you were when you left your - his - apartment.  The towel that staunched the bleeding was drying up, becoming stiff. It's been hours since you left but you didn't have the energy to even pull it off your knuckle. That, and you wouldn't know what to do if it started bleeding again. Taking the train, you went to the one person who you knew would welcome you without a doubt. 

Jace Velaryon.

You lied when you said you were going home. You didn't have a home to go to anymore because he was your home.

When you arrived at his apartment, you immediately started pounding on the door. Tears were streaming down your face again, new tears. They were hot against your skin and flowed freely.

Jace answered the door. “I don’t know who you are but I don’t need any - oh shit!” 

You fell into Jace as soon as he opened the door and sobbed openly into his arms.

“Hey, what happened? Why isn’t Aemond with you?”

At the mention of his name you sobbed even harder. You balled your fists into Jace’s shirt, not wanting to let him go.

“Fuck, okay. Let’s get you inside. I’ll call Hel.”

As Jace led you into the apartment you tried to calm yourself but it was difficult, nearly impossible. All of the different visions Alys had planted in your head kept playing on one after the other. The more you looked into the past the more you could see the warning signs that something was up. The way he touched you, looked at you, the small things. How lately he would recoil from your touch, or look guilty when he said he loved you. It all added up and you hated that you couldn’t see it. Instead, you got hurt. You could’ve protected yourself, your heart, but instead you gave it to someone else.

You sat on the couch clutching your things. Well, all that you could carry out of his apartment. Fog was clouding your vision and your chest was heavy. All you wanted to do was fall in a deep sleep and never wake up again. You curled up around a pillow and buried your head in it. Hugging the pillow helped a bit but it wasn’t enough.

“Hel, something happened to her,” you heard Jace call Helaena from the kitchen. “She came to my apartment sobbing her eyes out and when I mentioned Aemond she cried even harder. I think… I think they broke up, Hel.” He paused so Helaena could respond. “No, I don’t know what happened but whatever it was was bad. Her hand is wrapped in a towel and there’s dried blood on it. Fuck, just come over, please? Okay, see you soon.”

Jace came out of the kitchen and sat next to you on the couch. “Hey, Hel is on her way. Want to tell me what’s going on or -”

You aggressively shook your head as you shut your eyes to keep even more tears from flowing out.

“Okay, we can wait for Hel.”

Jace wrapped you in a hug and you melted into him. You inhaled his cologne, a familiar smell, and it calmed you, even just a tiny bit. After a moment you pulled away from him.

“I punched a mirror,” you rasped. “I was feeling too much and I hated what I saw so I just. I -” you broke down in sobs again.

“As long as you’re safe and it wasn’t anyone else who physically hurt you, it’s okay.”

You nodded and let yourself sink into the couch. For a few minutes it was just you and Jace in a sad silence. He wanted to comfort you but didn’t know how to. You wanted to tell him everything that happened but you wanted to wait for Helaena so you wouldn’t have to relive it twice out loud. You’ve already re-lived it many times over in your head. Everything was so clear, so crisp and clear. In your mind’s eye Alys was giving you that evil smirk while her hand was on Aemond’s shoulder. The image wouldn’t leave your mind. She touched him like she owned him.

“No one physically hurt me but fuck, my heart hurts so much.” You leaned your head on Jace’s shoulder.

Jace nodded. You fell into a silence, a sad silence. The door unlocked.

“Hey, I'm here.” Helaena looked at you and your tear stained face. “Holy shit, what's happened to you?” She was quick to move to you and pull you into a hug.

With Helaena hugging you came a new wave of tears. While she was his sister, you were glad that she didn't remind you of him. You held on tight to her and tried to calm down your breathing.

“There we go, easy breaths,” she encouraged you.

When you finally caught your breath you glanced at both of your friends before putting your head down. “He cheated on me.”

Their eyes were wide with disbelief.

“No way,” Helaena whispered.

“I'm gonna fucking kill him,” Jace growled.

You let out a broken laugh. “Please don't kill him, Jace.”

“No, I'm serious. What was he thinking?”

“It was Professor Rivers.”

“Of course it was her.” Helaena’s eyes were hard. “I've heard so many things about her. I didn't think she'd go after Aemond.”

You scoffed. “Well she did and she was successful.” You lowered your head. “She said that he loved her,” your voice cracked on the last word.

“I don't believe that at all.”

“You should have seen him, Hel. He was fucking her! He looked so guilty that he was caught.”

“He fucked her?!”

“Yes!” You started sobbing again. “It was some kind of cruel plan the professor came up with. She requested me in her office while he was with her so I could see them.”

Jace and Helaena were silent.

“Okay, now that's messed up,” said Jace.

“I bet she gets off on breaking up couples,” Helaena said matter-of-factly.

Jace looked at Helaena. “I'm sorry, what?”

“Haven't you heard the rumors? She has a history of breaking up couples.”

“That's demented.”

As Jace and Helaena talked about how cruel Alys was to her students outside their academic life, all you could think about was him. You still refused to say his name out loud. Saying his name would be admitting that he was real. For once, you wished your relationship was fake, a figment of your imagination. If you could convince yourself it never happened then you never got hurt.

A delusional smile crossed your face. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m fine. I’m perfectly fine. What are we even talking about? I don't know any Professor Rivers,” you laughed.

Helaena and Jace shared a concerned look.

“I've never heard of her.”

“Sweetie, she's a professor at your university. You know this very well,” Helaena said gently. “Are you okay?”

You started laughing maniacally. “Of course I'm okay! Why wouldn't I be? And again, I don’t know any Professor Rivers. That name means nothing to me. Nothing.” You reached for Jace’s hand and squeezed it as tight as you could.

“Damn, you have a strong grip. Can you loosen up or let me go?” Jace tried to wiggle his hand out of yours.

“I have never given my heart to anyone. I have never been hurt. I am completely fine. My heart is whole and safe. I have never fallen in love. No one has shattered me. Nothing bad ever happened, I’m just having a bad dream or something. But I’m fine. Fine and happy. I'm happy.”

“Oh, my dear,” Helaena tugged your hand off of Jace’s and took it in hers instead. “You're not okay and that's okay. But it happened, you can't pretend it didn't happen. It's not healthy.”

Your smile dissipated as you cocked your head to the side. “Nothing happened, Helaena. I am fine. I've never dated anyone.” You shook your head. “Please, I don't want it to be real,” you whispered. Trembling, you pulled your hands away from Helaena and wrapped them around yourself. Rocking back and forth you began to mumble, “It didn't happen. I'm okay. It didn't happen.” Your eyes became unfocused until everything around you was blurry. You didn't even try to correct it. 

“Let's go to the spare room. You can stay here as long as you need,” Jace said as he gathered your things.

“Come on, sweetie. Let's get you up,” Helaena tried to get you to stand but you sat rooted on the spot.

Tucking your chin in and wrapping your arms around you even tighter, you closed your eyes and refused to open them. “I'm fine right here.”

“Okay, you can stay here but Jace is going to take your things to the spare room.”

Jace left with your belongings and brought them to the bedroom, the place you'll be living in for the next unforeseeable days. Helaena stayed next to you, refusing for you to be left alone. 

“Do you want me to stay the night? I don't want you to be alone.”

With eyes still shut you nodded your head. You agreed with her; you should not be left alone.

“Your room is set up.” Jace entered the living room. “Do you want to sleep there now or?”

“I think she's gonna sleep out here on the couch tonight, Jace.” Helaena turned to you. “Can you get up or do you want to stay here?”

“I can't move. My body won't let me,” you whispered.

“Yeah, she’ll sleep out here tonight, Jace. I'll sleep on the floor.”

“I have an air mattress, Hel. You're not gonna sleep on the floor.” Jace turned and left the room once again to get the air mattress and some extra pillows and a blanket.

“Lay down, sweetie. Close your eyes. You've had a rough day.” 

Helaena’s voice calmed you. You did as she said and slowly unwound yourself and laid down on the couch. “Hel, I still love him. And I hate him for it.”

It was the last thing you said before falling into the sweet darkness of sleep.

Aemond was still sitting on the floor of your - his - bedroom. Clothes were strewn across the floor. His eye was red from crying; he hasn't stopped since you left. He went to the bathroom to clean up but stopped at the door. When he saw the shattered glass on the ground he whimpered. You did this. You did it because he caused you to feel so much pain that you needed to break something. 

Fresh tears began pouring out. His heart was continually breaking. He tried to clean up the mess the best he could but it was hard to see with his one good eye blurry from the crying. Aemond had just picked up all the glass when his phone started ringing. 

Without looking at who it was, he answered it, hoping it would be you.

“Princess, please, are you -”

“Princess? Well, that's a new name for me, baby,” the female voice said.

Anger rose inside of him. “How did you get my number, Professor Rivers?”

“‘Professor Rivers?’ Now, now, you know me better than that. In fact you know me extremely well.”

“You didn't answer my question.”

“Oh, no need to know.” He could hear her smile. “I just called to make sure you're okay. I know you're hurting but you know my arms are always open for you.”

“I'm done with you,” Aemond ground out.

“You say that but you know you'll come back to me. They always do.”

“You said you loved me.”

“Yes, and it's true. I love all my students.”

“You said I was the only one.”

“Yes, now that was a lie. Would you have chosen to be with me if you had known you were not the first?”

“I didn't choose you,” he spat out.

“That's not what I remember. If memory serves me correctly, I asked if you were sure you wanted this and you said yes.”

“You were straddling my lap with my cock in your hand!” Aemond’s heartbeat was racing, not at the memory, but at the anger towards this woman.

“And you still could’ve said no. But you didn't. Instead you said yes and the rest is history. And what a damn good history it was.”

“Delete this number and never come near me again.”

“I know you wish that could happen but you know better. I'll delete this number but I'll see you in class on Monday.” With a click the phone call ended.

Aemond let out a guttural scream and punched the already broken mirror. Once. Twice. Three times. Just like you. Tears streamed down his face as he stared at his bloody knuckle. It was another thing that reminded him of you. Opening and closing his hand, he let the blood run down. He stared at it, thinking of you and hoping you were okay. 

He turned on the water and ran his hand under it then wrapped it up in some gauze. He wasn't rushing so he had time to actually look for some. Everything has slowed down for him. 

After he cleaned up the rest of the glass he went to the couch in the living room. He sat there for a while but soon remembered the many times the two of you made love on it. Immediately getting up he paced, thinking of a place where he wouldn't be reminded of his sins.

“I'm not gonna hear the end of this,” he mumbled to himself. Not packing anything, he left the apartment and called an Uber for his brother, Aegon's, place.

When he got to Aegon’s front door he couldn't even bring himself to knock on the door. Instead he texted his brother to come and open the door.

“And what can I do for my little brother?” Aegon wore a grin.

Aemond took a deep breath. “I cheated on her, Aegon. I fucked up and I can't stand to be in our apartment.”

Aegon’s face dropped. “Shit, I wasn't expecting that. Get in here and tell me how you messed everything up.”

Aemond followed Aegon into the apartment and plopped himself on the couch. Without giving him a second glance, Aegon went to the fridge and grabbed two beers. 

“Drink it,” he said as he handed him one. “If you're going to relive your mistakes you should have something to ease the pain.”

In one smooth motion, Aemond took it from Aegon, opened it, and began chugging it. He stopped halfway through the bottle.

“My professor seduced me,” he started off. “And I fucking fell for her. She has a history of getting with students and I thought I could never be one of them but I am, Aegon. I slept with my fucking professor and ruined the only true relationship I've ever had.”

Aegon ran a hand down his face. “Dude, that's bad. Like bad bad.”

“It was more than once, too,” Aemond admitted.

“I'm sorry, what?”

“I basically had a relationship with her. She'd tell me she loved me and I thought it was real even though I already had someone who loved me unconditionally. Fuck, she gave me her heart and I stomped on it the second I started talking to Professor Rivers.” Aemond put his face in his hands. 

Aegon nodded his head. “Oh, her.”

“Do you know her?”

“Even I knew she was bad news. There's a reason other than my grades as to why I didn't take her class. She's hot though, I'll give you that.”

“That doesn't help, Aegon.”

Aegon shrugged. “Just saying,” he took a sip of his beer. “What are you gonna do to get her back?”

Aemond blinked. “‘Get her back?’ I don't deserve her!”

“Listen,” Aegon leaned forward. “I've seen you two together and I have never seen you so happy before. I don't know her well but it looked like she had eyes only for you. You gotta go back and get her. Or at least help her.”

“How can I help her when all I've done is cause her pain?” Aemond’s hands began to shake.

“Beg. Get on your knees. Anything to make her smile.”

“I think me dying would make her smile,” Aemond grumbled.

“There we go, that's it!” Aegon went over and clapped Aemond on the back. “While you try to regain your honor, I'm going to ruin that Professor Alys and her career.”

“No! Please don't do that!”

Aegon narrowed his eyes. “Don't tell me you actually have feelings for her.”

“She called me earlier. I don't know how but she got my number. She sounded so sure that I'd go back to her. But I don't! I mean, fuck, you can't. She'll know it was me somehow.”

“I’ll cover your ass, don't worry.” Aegon finished his beer. “Now, you can stay as long as you need to but I don't want you wallowing in self pity. It's annoying when you do that.”

“Thank you, brother.” Aemond went to clasp his arm but Aegon pulled him in for a hug.

“Go get her back.”

When you woke up the next day it took you a while to remember where you were. As you looked around the room, you saw Helaena on an air mattress. That was when it all came rushing back.

Aemond and Alys.

Punching the mirror.

Slapping Aemond.

Running away.

You hurriedly got up when you felt whatever was left in your stomach come up to the surface. Careful not to trip over Helaena, you made a beeline for the bathroom and emptied out your guts. It was the dry heaving that had you crying again. Between the retching and the memories, it all became too much again.

“Sweetie?” Came a sleepy voice. “Are you okay?”

You gagged on nothing in response.

“I'm coming in, hold up.”

The bathroom door creaked open and Helaena entered, hair messy from sleeping.

“Oh, my dear, you look horrible.”

You gave a dry laugh. “Thanks, Hel.” You gagged into the bowl again.

Helaena knelt by you and rubbed your back in soothing circles. “We’ll take it day by day. You can get through this, you're one of the strongest people I know.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, I feel so strong right now.” You hurled out nothing into the toilet bowl again. Your chest was beginning to hurt from all the heaving and still your heart was aching, too. “I don't know when this will stop,” you admitted. Sitting back on your haunches, you looked up at Helaena. “Do I forgive him? Do I ignore him? What do I do if he wants to be back in my life?”

“Then you'll have a decision to make. Open your heart once again to the guy who shattered and trust that he won't do it again, or close yourself off from him forever.”

Your chest tightened at the prospect. On one hand you never wanted to see him again, it'd be too painful. But on the other hand, life without him seemed impossible, lifeless. Yet he broke you and made you feel the way you feel now and that is unforgivable.

When you moved to get up Helaena offered her hand. Once you took it you gave her a thankful squeeze. You linked arms with her and walked to the kitchen where Jace was making breakfast.

“Waffle morning!” He called out. Jace sent you a bright smile.

You cracked the first genuine smile you've had since the break up. Jace always knew how to raise your spirit.

“I made your favorite waffles. There’s whipped cream and strawberries in the fridge if you want any.”

You noticed he wasn’t mentioning yesterday. That was fine for you; you needed a break. Over breakfast you laughed with your friends and briefly forgot about the last twenty four hours. It wasn’t until you brought up slapping him that you brought the topic to the day before.

“I will admit that I did slap him and it felt great. Do I regret it? I do. I’ve never wanted to hurt him but I didn’t know what to do. He kept trying to get closer to me and I didn’t want him near me.”

Helaena and Jace looked at you, stunned.

“You slapped him?” Helaena wanted clarification.

“I wasn’t thinking.” You shrugged.

“That’s better than me,” Jace chuckled. “Next time I see him I’m gonna deck the shit out of him.”

“He deserved that,” Helaena agreed.

“Please don't deck him, Jace. As upset as I am, I still don't want him hurt.”

“You don't want him to get hurt? Look at you! Aemond hurt you so much, punching him is the nicest thing I could do to him,” Jace said.

You flinched at the mention of his name. “Please don't say his name right now.”

“You can't even say his name!” Jace was getting aggravated. “I know you don't like this, but he hurt you and that's not okay. You're one of my best friends and I refuse to stand by and do nothing.”

“And I appreciate that so much, I really do,” you gave Jace a small smile. “But I still care about him, as stupid as that sounds.”

“It's not stupid, sweetie,” Helaena put a hand on your arm. “You love him - don't try to deny it.”

Looking down at your half eaten waffle you contemplated the complexity of your feelings. You still loved him, you knew that. But it hurt so much. You didn't want to love him, he didn't deserve your love. Still, your heart reached out to him, he hurt you, shattered you, but it also being away from him made your heart ache as well.

“I do. I still love him. I feel empty without him and I wish it would stop. I don't want to feel anything anymore.”

“Feeling this is okay, it means you're human.”

“Ugh,” you stuffed a bit of waffle in your mouth. “I don't want to be a human then.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Jace elbowed you in the side.

“I can't help it,” you elbowed him back.

“See, you're already doing better,” Helaena said.

You took a breath. “Yeah, I am.” A weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

“It will still hit you every now and then,” Helaean warned you.

“I know. But I have you guys to help me,” you clasped a hand from both of them. “And I'm forever grateful.” You sighed. “Ugh, I don’t want to go to class on Monday.”

“I mean,” Jace started, “you don’t have to.”

“You can always take a mental day and it seems like a good time to take one,” Helaena said.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. And -” You were cut off by the doorbell. “Did you guys tell anyone else to be here?”

“No, the only person I called was Hel,” Jace said. “I’ll go check on the door.”

The doorbell rang again.

A familiar sinking feeling came over you. “Gods, what if it’s him?”

Jace’s face hardened. “Then I’m going to punch him like I said I would.”

You turned to Helaena, face filled with panic. “I don’t want to see him again, not now. Please, I can’t do this!” Tears began to fill your eyes.

“Shh, it’s okay.” Helaena took your hand. “We’ll go back to the spare room. Jace will handle this.”

The doorbell rang a third time.

“Gods, he’s impatient,” Jace muttered.

“Go get the door before he starts knocking and trying to break it down,” Helaena ordered.

With your hand in her, Helaena guided you back to the spare room while Jace went to answer the door. Your heartbeat quickened as you heard him open it.

A familiar voice began to speak. “Please, I’m here for -”

You heard the sound of skin hitting skin.

“That’s for hurting my best friend,” you heard Jace say.

A deep sigh. “I deserved that.”

Silence. You imagined the two guys staring at each other. Well, Jace staring hard at him and the other one with his head down in shame.

“I just need to see her, make sure she’s okay.”

“Physically, she’s fine. Emotionally? I’ve never seen her so broken.”

“Fuck,” you almost didn’t hear him. “Can I at least talk to Hel? I saw her car.”

A pause. “Fine.”

Jace’s footsteps came closer and closer to the door. “Hel, he wants to talk to you. Think you can handle it?”

“Of course I can handle my little brother,” Helaena scoffed. “You stay right here.” She gave you one last hug before exiting the room.

“Hel, I really fucked up and -”

SLAP

You couldn’t help the small smile that graced your face.

“How dare you?” Helaena exclaimed. “How dare you hurt her then show up? You should be absolutely ashamed of yourself. You’re weak, Aemond.”

You sucked in a breath at the mention of his name.

“I know I am.” You heard him sniffle. “I destroyed our relationship and now I’m asking for her forgiveness. I know she may never want to see me again, but I at least want to know that she’s healing.”

“Aemond, it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. She’s not okay at all!” Helaena sighed. “I think you need to leave. She needs space and time before she can see you. Hell, she can’t even say your name. Whatever you did hurt her bad.”

“She - she won’t even say my name?”

“No. That’s how bad this is. So I suggest you go home.”

“...Can I at least see her?”

“No, Aemond. Now, go home.”

You heard the door beginning to close. “WAIT! I mean - he can see me.”

Helaena went to you and gripped your hand. “Sweetie, are you sure?”

“If he tries anything I’ll punch him again,” Jace said.

“It’s fine, guys. Really. I’ll need to face him at some point,” you shrugged. Wiping your eyes, you tried to make yourself look somewhat presentable, that you haven’t been a complete wreck. You walked to the door to face him. To face Aemond.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you looked at Aemond but it certainly wasn’t this. His hair was messy, eye was puffy and red, there was a mark where Jace punched him and Helaena slapped him. His eye was devoid of any happiness. Good.

“Princess, I -” he started.

“I thought I told you not to call me that,” you stopped him. “I’m not your princess, never was apparently.”

Something in Aemond’s face broke. “No, no, you know that’s not true.”

“Stop. Please,” you took a deep breath. “You broke me, Aemond,” your voice shook on his name. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for what you’ve done. I gave you everything I had and you dropped it all for a professor. I can’t go through that again. Please don’t make me.” Tears slipped out. “Please, just go home.”

Aemond took in a shaky breath. “I’ll go. But know that I will do everything I can to prove to you that you are my one and only love.”

Jace coughed next to you. “Sure.”

Helaena went to the door. “It’s time for you to go, Aemond.”

Aemond nodded his head and turned around. When he got to his car you collapsed into Jace’s arms, full of fresh tears.

“He came back for me,” you choked out. “I don’t know if I want him.”

“You don’t need to take him back if you don’t want to,” Jace said as he held you tight.

“He’s right. Aemond is not entitled to you.” Helaena came back from the doorway. She made sure that Aemond actually left.

“Can I go back to sleep?” you mumbled against Jace.

“Of course, let’s get you in an actual bed this time, though.” Helaena gently peeled you off of Jace and led you to the spare room.

You fell on the bed with a plop and immediately you welcomed the soothing darkness of sleep.

Aemond stepped back into the apartment feeling broken. All he had to do was gather some of his things to take to Aegon’s house. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. Simply walking into the apartment, however, had his memories reeling.

“Aemond!” you called from the doorway. “I’m home!”

Aemond made sure you were turned around before picking you up from behind and twirling you. “How were classes, princess?” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Classes were meh. So nothing new, just normal.” You shrugged. “What about you?”

Aemond felt himself stiffen very briefly. She couldn’t know. He couldn’t tell her. It would only break her. No, he would have to break off everything with Alys. “Classes are fine, nothing new, just like yours.”

“And Professor Rivers?” you asked him. You knew she was a flirt and didn’t want her anywhere near Aemond.

“She’s nowhere near me.” A lie. “I sit in the back of the class.” Another lie.

“Hmmm okay.” There was something unsettling about his answer but you let it slide.

“I love you and only you, okay Princess? Never forget that.” He captured your lips in a kiss.

------

“Oh, fuck, harder, Aemond!” Alys was bent over her desk with her skirt hiked up.

Aemond pounded into her. He was torn in his mind. His body craved Alys but his heart and mind knew this would break his Princess if she ever found out.

“More, more!”

His fingers dug into Alys’ skin as he picked up the pace. His thrusts were becoming sloppy, he was near his peak.

“FUCK, AEMOND!” Alys squeezed Aemond’s cock, triggering his own release.

Aemond caught himself before he fell on top of Alys, not out of courtesy, but that he didn’t want to touch her anymore. He pulled out of her and fixed his pants. He didn’t look her in the eye anymore when he was with her. He simply looked at the ground.

“Aw, baby, are you okay?” Alys had fixed her skirt. She trailed a manicured hand up his chest and brought it up to cup his face.

Without thinking, Aemond leaned into her touch.

“Don’t worry, she’ll never find out.” She pulled him down so she could whisper in his ear. “You’ll always have a place with me. You don’t need her.”

At that, Aemond recoiled. “You’re wrong, I do need her.”

“If that’s true, then why are you with me?”

He couldn’t think of a reason.

“Exactly. You want me, and that’s okay.” Alys moved her other hand to cup him through his pants. He was already beginning to harden again. “Tsk, you already want to go again, babe?”

“No,” Aemond ground out. “I don’t.”

Alys ignored him as she kneeled down to the ground. “Oh, but your cock says otherwise.” She slowly unzipped his pants and freed his cock. “Would you like me to taste you?”

Aemond swore he said no but, “Yes.”

Aemond was crying as he was gathering his clothes. It hurt. Everything hurt. When he was in the bathroom all he could think about was you punching the mirror. When he was in the living room all he could think about was all the times you made love on the couch. 

He fell to his knees and clutched his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Princess.” He curled up on the ground and held himself while he sobbed. He was broken. He knew he made terrible choices and now he had to live with them. 

When he finally got up to leave the apartment, he found one of your favorite sweaters. He choked on another sob as he ran his fingers on it, imagining you and your smile while wearing it. Bringing it up to his nose, he inhaled the scent. Your scent. Putting it back on the hook, he adjusted the bags in his hands, and made his way back to the outside world.

“Why did you go to her?” Aegon groaned. “That was such a stupid move.”

“I had to see her,” Aemond murmured. “I had to make sure she was okay. That she wasn’t took hurt.”

“And how did that work out for you?”

Aemond looked up at his brother. “She’s in so much pain and I caused all of that.”

“Were you expecting anything different?”

“Not really.”

“Exactly. Man, you’re just punishing yourself by seeing her like that. Stop. You want to fix this? Then get off your ass and start fixing it. This means ending everything, and I mean everything, with Professor Rivers.”

Aemond nodded; he had to follow his brother’s advice if he were to get you back.

“Thank you for a constructive class this afternoon. I'll see you all on Wednesday.” Professor Rivers dismissed her students. 

Aemond was quick to get up and gather his things but Professor Rivers was quicker.

“Aemond, I'd like to see you in my office, please.”

Something in Aemond's gut began to sink. His hands were soon clammy. He didn't want to do this, didn't want to face her, but he knew he had to. Taking a shaky breath, he followed Professor Rivers to her office.

He was sure she was swaying her hips more than usual, and even wore a smaller skirt. As they arrived at her office she looked around before sliding a hand along his chest and whispering in his ear. “Gods, I've missed you.” One hand moved to cup his crotch while she used her other hand to pulled him down in a kiss. Aemond wanted to lean into her, to kiss her, but he thought of you and pulled back.

“You said you needed to see me, Professor Rivers?” He tried to keep his face neutral.

“Ah, yes. Please, come in.” She opened the door.

As Aemond stepped in, he took a seat in front of her desk, like any other student would do. He heard the click of a lock but refused to turn around. 

Alys ran a hand across his back then over his shoulder. She gripped him tight. “Why don't you turn around, baby? Or do you want me in your lap?” She sauntered around him and set herself on his thighs. “Oh, I can feel you. You're trying so hard but you know you could never resist me.” She pulled him in for a kiss.

Aemond let her kiss him. He did his best not to kiss back but he failed. Soon, he was gripping her waist and aggressively kissing her. Alys was right. He could never leave her. She ground herself on his cock, straining against his pants. 

“Forget about her,” she said against his lips. 

Immediately, reality hit Aemond and he reeled back and pushed her off. “No. It’s you I need to forget.”

Alys looked at him, eyes wide, panting with her hand on her chest. For a second she looked stunned but recovered quickly. “Aemond. She’s gone. You ruined her. It’s because of you that she left, not me.”

“No,” Aemond shook his head. “You tricked me, you used me somehow. Convinced that we could be together.”

“Oh, my dear,” she purred, “you made the choice to come to me. And you will always come to me, or in me. It’s wonderful both ways.” She stalked towards him and once again reached out.

“I love her more than I want to be with you.”

“That’s not what your body says.” Alys made a note of glancing at his crotch.

“I don’t care what my body says. It only wants a fuck, that’s all you’ll ever be to anyone.”

“Who says I want more? That’s all I want, all I ever needed out of you, was a good fuck. And damn, are you fucking good.”

Aemond ignored her. “Gods, you played me and I was an idiot to believe your lies.”

“Lies? Not all of them are lies. It’s not a lie that I love you, well part of you. Your cock is just so good.”

Aemond crossed the room to get away from her but she followed. “Fuck that. I never want to see you again, Professor Rivers.” He pushed her away again.

“Now, now, we don’t have to get into formalities.” She was looking worried. No other student has talked to her like this before, has actually pushed her back.

“We’re done. I’m done with you, with your lies, everything. Hell, I’ll even report you.”

Alys laughed. “Report me? And who will believe you?”

“You don’t know what exactly I’m capable of to get what I want.” There was a vengeful gleam in his eye. He turned to leave. “By the way, I’m transferring out of your class. I never want to see you or hear from you ever again.” And with that, Aemond stalked out of her office.

As soon as Aemond was out of her office, he went straight to the president. “Professor Strong, one of your staff members has been harassing students.”

Professor Larys Strong turned around. “Ah, yes. I think I know who you’re talking about. I’ve heard all the rumors.”

“Then why haven’t you done anything?” Aemond asked.

“Because they’re just that. Rumors. Unless you have proof?”

Aemond blanched. “Check the hallway cameras outside of Professor Rivers’ office. She cornered me there.”

Professor Strong hummed. “Cornered? Are you sure? I’ve heard whispers that you’ve been going to her willingly.”

“She shouldn’t be doing this! She’s taking advantage of her students!”

“Fine.” Professor Strong flourished a hand. “If there is footage of her, coercing you, and you are resisting, then fine. I will look into it.”

Aemond nodded his head, knowing it was the best answer he could get right now, and left for Aegon’s apartment.

“I did it!” Aemond burst into the living room breathing hard. “I ended everything and I reported her.”

“Great!” Aegon popped his head around the corner. “I keyed her car!”

“I - you - what?” 

“Yeah, I keyed her car,” Aegon repeated. Aegon walked over to Aemond, completely serious. “I found her car in the campus parking lot and I keyed it. Specifically, I carved ‘fuck you.’”

“I guess I'll have to thank you for that one. Wish I could've been there myself but…” Aemond trailed off.

“You made the right choice, brother.”

About a month had passed and you felt…lighter. It was as though a weight had been taken off of your shoulder. You still felt the heaviness of the break up but it wasn't completely unbearable anymore. 

You still hadn't gone back to the apartment; you still stayed with Jace. Sitting up and stretching, you looked out the window to see the sun rising. Staring out the window you thought of all that you had gone through the last month. 

Aemond’s tried to contact you but every time your phone rang you let it go to voicemail. You'd be lying if you said you didn't listen to each and every message. It broke your heart to hear him but you had to stand your ground. He betrayed you in the worst way possible, he couldn’t be easily forgiven.

Every now and then you'd go through your social media profiles and look through the pictures of the two of you. Both of you were so happy, so in love, and it showed. But he broke it. It was a lie. Taking a shaky breath, you pushed the thought from your mind. Over the last week or so you've been training yourself not to say it was a lie. He did love you, at least at one point, but then he met Professor Rivers and he apparently fell out of love with you. Wrapping your arms around yourself you cried a bit for the first time in a few days. It was cathartic. There was a knock at the door and Helaena stepped in.

“Hey, sweetie, how are you doing?” She said softly.

A watery smile graced your face. “I'm doing okay, no improvement from the last few days. I've just been thinking.”

“I figured as much.” She sat down on the bed next to you. “You know, I do believe he loves you. He's been trying to get in touch, but I don't blame you for not answering him. I've seen my brother at his worst but whenever I saw you two together he looked the happiest I've ever seen.”

“‘Loves?’ I think you're looking for ‘loved.’ I don't think he loves me anymore.”

“Even with the constant phone calls and texts?”

“He just feels bad he was caught, I'm sure.” You rolled your eyes.

“Sweetie, I know you may not want to hear it, but I think he really might still love you.”

There was a sinking feeling in your gut. You wanted so badly to believe Helaena but letting Aemond in again would mean opening yourself up to more hurt. 

“I don't know if I want to risk my heart again, Hel. And how do I know he's not gonna cheat on me again? What if Professor Rivers comes back?”

“You won't have to worry about her,” Jace said as he leaned on the door frame. “Apparently she's being investigated for sexually harassing students. That and it's against university policy to be involved with them, too.”

A smile played on your lips. “Wait, what?”

Jace shrugged. “Apparently someone finally stepped up to tell the president. There was footage of Professor Rivers hitting on a student outside of her office in the hallway.”

“Do you know who reported her?” Helaena was on the edge of her seat.

“Aemond.” 

You sucked in a breath. “Aemond reported her?”

“Yeah, and apparently she tried to kiss him in the hallway and moved her hand over his, uh, crotch.”

Anger bubbled within you. As much as it hurt for him to have betrayed you, knowing Professor Rivers still wanted him even after he pushed her away made your blood boil. 

“Gods I hate her. I hate what she did to Aemond, I hate what she did to me, I hate what she did to us,” you ground out.

“The investigation isn't complete. While Aemond's footage does show that she made unwanted advances, he still followed her into her office.

“Of course he did. He'll keep going back to her.”

It hurt, knowing he still followed her even after he said no. You had no doubt they still did things in her office. 

“But,” Jace interjected, “there are a few others who have stepped up to say something. Apparently the guys Professor Rivers has been involved with include Jason Lannister and Cregan Stark. Just those two alone make a good case against her.”

“Maybe I should talk to him,” you murmured. 

“I think you should, sweetie.” Helaena put a hand over yours and squeezed tight.

“...I think I will. It's not a promise we'll get back together but it's something.” You looked at your two best friends. “Thank you for everything, I love you guys so much.” Your eyes began to water and a few tears slipped out but they were thankful tears. Tears that were light.

When Jace and Helaena left your room you picked up your phone to find a new voicemail from Aemond. With shaking hands you brought the phone up to your eye and listened.

“I'm so sorry. I know I can't say it enough. I never loved her, I was thinking with my dick. I miss you. I miss you so much and I will do whatever it takes for you to at least look at me again. Everything I do, everything I see, reminds me of you. If I could turn back time and never enroll in her class I'd do it. I'm not even in it anymore, I dropped out of the class.” A break. “When I saw you that day, when you saw everything, I knew I had fucked up. I knew beforehand that I fucked up yet I kept making those decisions. I will never be able to erase the pain from your heart and I wish I could. Gods, I wish I could. I promise you that you are the love of my life, no one else.”

A fresh wave of tears rolled down your face. It's the same thing he's said over and over again but this time you could feel his desperation. You didn't know how long it would last until he would give up, so you took your chance and called him back. The phone rang once.

“Aemond,” you wanted to be the first one to talk. “I - I think I'm ready to see you.”

“Princess! Gods, you called me back.” You could hear his voice crack.

“Please don't call me that,” you whispered. Being called his princess made your heart ache.

“I'm sorry, I won't do that again.”

You smiled a sad smile. “Let's meet at the apartment, okay? Neutral ground.”

“You want to see me?” 

“I think I'm ready now. I'll see you around noon?”

“Yeah, noon works. I'll see you then.”

And with a click of the button the line was dead.

Walking out of the spare room and into the living room, you found Helaena and Jace lounging on the couch.

“I'm going to meet him later today at the apartment,” you announced.

“You are?” Exclaimed Jace. “If he tries anything I swear I'm gonna -”

Helaena interrupted him, “I don't think Aemond is going to try anything. He's too afraid of hurting her even more.”

Jace turned to you. “Are you sure about this?”

You nodded. “As sure as I'll ever be. But I can't keep avoiding him forever, either.”

“I'm so proud of you.” Helaena got up and wrapped you in a warm hug. “You can do this, sweetie.”

As you pulled up at the apartment complex, your chest began to tighten and your breaths became short.

“I'm right out here if you need me, remember? If you gotta get out just run and hop in.” Helaena told you.

You took one big breath before nodding your head and then stepping out of the car. There wasn't any sign of Aemond, at least not that you could tell. Walking up the stairs was a challenge; each step felt heavier and heavier. You had to do this, though. Face your fear and tackle him straight on. As you reached the door you noticed it wasn't locked.

“I can do this,” you whispered to yourself. Steeling your nerves, you knocked on the door.

Almost immediately the door opened. It was as if Aemond was sitting by the door waiting for you.

“You came,” he mumbled.

“I did.”

“Come in.” He held the door open for you to enter the threshold.

The apartment was a mess. It was unkempt, clothes were everywhere, you could even see the shattered glass that was never picked up after you punched the mirror. It was as though Aemond had no drive to keep the place tidy anymore. You turned your focus to him and saw that he was in the same state as the apartment; a mess. His hair was frizzy, loose ends were everywhere. His face looked like it had sunken in a bit. He seemed skinnier than before and it's only been a month. There was a dark circle under his eye that looks like it's been there a long time.

For a moment you and Aemond just stared at each other, not believing you were seeing one another.

“I got her fired. She's no longer on campus,” he blurted.

“Good, good.”

“I've missed you.”

You met him with silence. Staring at him, you could see how painful this was for him, not to touch you, not to comfort.

“Why? Why did you do it?” Your voice was barely louder than a whisper.

Aemond shuffled awkwardly. “I don't know.”

“That's not an answer.” A laugh left you. “Tell me why or I'm going to walk out. What did she have that I didn't? Was I not enough for you?” Tears began to flow down your cheeks.

“No, no,” he took a step towards you but you stepped back. “I don't know what I was thinking. She was seductive, I guess. I liked how she was taboo.”

“So I need to be a forbidden fruit to be with you?” You scoffed

“No, I know now that's not what I want.”

“You wanted her? If you wanted her then why didn't you break up with me when it started?”

“Because I didn't want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me? Aemond, you did so much more damage than what you could've done. You shattered me. I felt my heart break when I saw you fucking her,” you spat out the last few words.

“I know, I know,” he pleaded.

“Do you?”

He took a step back. “You're right, I don't know. I don't know how badly I've hurt you, I don't know the struggle you've been through.” He collapsed to his knees and bowed his head. “And I'm so fucking sorry. I wish I could take everything back.” His body began to shake with sobs.

“Aemond…” you knelt down in front of him and put a hand on his shoulder. “I…I don't know if I could ever forgive you.”

He sobbed harder.

“But I know I still want you in my life. I love you, Aemond, and this past month has been terrible without you by my side.”

“You still love me? Even after all I've done?” He looked into your eyes. His one was puffy and red.

“I don't think I can ever not love you,” you have him a small smile. “I don't know if I could trust you again, either.”

“I understand.”

“But,” you started. “I'm willing to try again.” You placed a hand on his cheek and cupped his face. “It'll be a long time until I'll even be ready to hear you call me Princess again. But we can work on it together.”

Aemond looked at you with awe. “You want to try again?”

“Yes. I do. I can't imagine a world without you. I could barely stand a single month.” You chuckled and moved to intertwine your hand with his.

“I don't deserve you,” he whispered.

“No, you don't. But I miss you and I need you in my life, please, Aemond.”

“I'll be in your life if you want me to. I'll do anything for you.” His hand reached for your arm and he gave a small squeeze.

“It'll be a while until I can give my heart to you again. We'll take it slow.”

“I'll hold on to you tight.” He pressed his forehead against yours. “I'll do better this time.”

“One step at a time.”

“One step at a time.”

[fioiswriting]

Reunion | oneshot

Summary : After the Battle Above the Gods Eye, Daemon returned victorious. Aemond was presumed dead, though his body was never found. Three years later, you've mourned your former husband and are ready to move on. But it seems that some ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and that the dead aren't really dead after all...

[Part 2]

Rating : Explicit 18+, MDNI

Pairing : Aemond x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader, implied Cregan Stark x Reader (you can interpret them as lovers or not). Reader is Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter so I imagined her with dark hair like Jace, Luke and Joffrey but feel free to imagine her as you want of course <3

TW : unprotected sex, breeding kink, mention of characters death, angst, possessiveness, p in v sex, oral m receiving, praising kink, dom/sub undertones, mention of war, AU where the Blacks won the war, Alys Rivers (but no cheating), Reader has a child, grief, light choking, not proofread.

Words count : 7600

Author's notes : Hi everyone !! Sooo I’m posting my first ever fanfic on here, my first x reader and my first fanfic for Aemond. I’m very anxious haha But well, this fanfic is heavily inspired by a RP that has been going on for months with my wonderful gf <3 She writes Aemond so well I swear and now she’s making me fall in love with Cregan too haha oops whatever. Some of Aemond’s lines in this fanfic are hers so of course the credits go to her 💕 Long story short the reader’s backstory is inspired by my OC! The plot doesn't make any sense but whatever

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !!

Enjoy 🖤

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met The night we met - Lord Huron

The snow had covered the landscape of Winterfell in a thin white layer so similar to ash, and the image tugged at your heart for a moment. Ashes. Fire. War. It was strange, the stillness that had followed the fury of screams and blood, of fire and ash, the constant anguish and pain of loss. It was like a long howl and then sudden silence. Life had resumed its course, the earth and the grass nurtured in red, as if nothing had happened, and that still irritated you sometimes, three years later.

For this peacefulness was a constant reminder of your life before. Before the war, before your own family ripped itself apart from within, before you lost him. There was something bitter in the thought that, in an alternate reality, you would have been happy with him by your side. The night brought its share of sweet dreams, lulled by the embrace of his arms, and you closed your eyes with ease, hoping to see his face again, which was fading day by day, desperately clinging to the details that made him.

It had been the best solution, you knew. 

For there was no reality in which he could live as much as you wished for. And you had accepted your duty by straightening your shoulders, silencing your heart, digging your thumbnail into the inside of your wrist. Your stepfather had said he was dead; he had seen Vhaegar fall from the sky, wounded.  He had seen the huge dragon crash into the water with all its weight. He had waited, and no silver hair had returned to the surface. He had searched and no body had been found.

So, he had returned, triumphant, with the conclusion that Aemond Targaryen was dead.

The room had swayed around you, but your fingers on the hard, rough wood of the table had kept you grounded. You had nodded, unsure, your ears ringing, your teeth sinking into the flesh of your tongue to hold back the tears that were beading at the edges of your eyes.

You knew it was inevitable, perhaps even fair. But it still hurt.  It sill fucking hurt.

Daemon had reassured you by pointing out that you were now released from your marital obligation.  A marriage to him that you had hoped for, waited for, dreamed of in your younger years. A marriage you had despised, once forced into, once made captive, a prisoner to be used against your own mother. And then a marriage that you had loved, cherished even, when he had opened up to you, when he had changed, when he had revealed that soft side despite his rough edges.  And you loved him, truly. The childhood love, the shy love that had blossomed between laughter muffled behind the curtains, hand-in-hand runs through the Red Keep and reading session hidden under the library table, had been rekindled.  Raw, devouring, bruised by war, but more powerful than ever.

Out of the corner of your eye you had caught a glimpse of the comforting gaze of your mother, the Queen, her gentle eyes searching for clues that would betray what you were feeling. It was she who had stroked your hair that evening, her presence welcome and soothing.

During the war, events had made you more uncertain than ever; blood and cheese had broken something in you. Suddenly shaken by the horrific actions of someone you hardly recognised, by the actions of your own family and the father figure who had raised you as his own daughter. You questioned your loyalties more than ever. Of course, you'd been devastated by Luke's death, your beloved little brother, so innocent, so sweet, and the despair you'd felt, the sadness, had gradually turned to anger. 

Your desire for revenge had fed on your rage, on your anger.

And in your quest for revenge, you had grabbed the dagger hidden in your bodice when you had kissed him, when you had poisoned him with your lips and your body pressed against his. Perhaps it was cowardice to do it on your wedding night, right after the pitiful ceremony in which you had been forced to exchange your vows of fidelity, the humiliation of the white, blue, red and green cloak around your shoulders.  Perhaps it was cowardice to wait for him to surrender to your touch, hard with desire, before plunging the blade straight into his heart.

But you didn't do it, in the end, the humiliation of your failure burning in your cheeks, and you had seen the horrible reality in the icy eye fixed on you: he was expecting it.  He knew. He had anticipated you, as usual, one step ahead of you, ahead of your plans. And the humiliation was all the more bitter.

First he had defied you, knowing full well that you couldn't do it, despite your momentary hesitation. Then he had wiped away your tears, the sound of metal echoing off the floor as he captured your lips with his own. 

And both you and he had sought to release the accumulated tension in the comfort of your naked bodies, in the rough, demanding thrusts.

You weren't quite sure when your relationship had changed. When he had become more forgiving. When he had trusted you. When he had become gentle. When you had felt him slipping away, subtly, almost imperceptibly. When you had begun to seek comfort in his arms, to seek the warmth of his body, to seek his love on his lips.

You loved him.

So you spent the nights lying awake in fear. Fearing the moment when you would have to make a choice. Fearing the moment when you would have to betray.

Which side would you choose when both armies were coming towards you, carrying the same flags, the same weapons, both calling your name?

Anxiety had spread its roots in the pit of your stomach, crescent moons in the palms of your hands. You felt as if you were losing your mind.

But the choice had been forced upon you without you having to make it. You had accepted it, as your duty demanded, as your loyalty to your family demanded.

Life at Winterfell wasn't so bad, quite the opposite in fact, despite the cold and snow you weren't used to. Cregan Stark was a good man. He had given you time and space to grieve, and had opened the castle gates to you with kindness. You had decided that you could get used to the cold and the snow, to the stone and the rustic wood, so different from the refineries of the capital, but infinitely warmer.

It was your choice, your departure for Winterfell.  Dragonstone was still haunted by the ghost of Luke, by the ghosts of Joffrey and little Aegon and Viserys and Rhaenys and all the family members you had lost.  King's Landing was haunted, too. By your sweet aunt and her cries of despair, by Aegon's descent into madness, by the humiliations you had so gracefully endured, by the recurring announcements of deaths, by the smell of the innocents’ blood, by the pitiful looks of Alicent, who had seen in you the image of herself a few years earlier, powerless and manipulated.

But above all, it was haunted by him.

The weight of the memories had become unbearable and you needed to leave.

You chose Winterfell, hoping the cold would help you forget. And Jace had come with you, his thumb caressing the back of your hand with affection, always the protective, reassuring big brother he was to you.  Probably glad to see his friend again, too. Your friend, to both of you.

But forgetting was something you'd never really been able to do, even less with the last memory he'd left you.

Now, just over three years later, you felt ready to return to King's Landing to visit your parents, to face the demons of your past and to mourn once and for all. It was inexplicable, perhaps a little strange, but you felt the need to go back.

On his first dragon ride, Rhaegar clapped his hands along the way, nestled into your arms in front of you, closing his eyes as the wind ruffled his dark curls. Midnight, your dragon, as pleasant as ever, as easy and gentle as ever, took care to be careful with the two of you on his back.

When you arrived, Rhaenyra hugged you as tightly as she'd ever hugged you, her nose buried in your thick hair, before bending down to take her grandson in her arms.

"I've missed you, sweet girl." she said to you. You smiled and reached for her arm, glancing at your son who'd grabbed one of your mother's long silver curls: "Daemon has missed you too. You know he doesn't show his feelings, but... he missed you." 

You smile, your eyes dropping to the floor.  You missed them, too, terribly, despite the frequent letters.

"And of course... we’ve missed you too, little one!" Rhaenyra added, catching the child's nose with her thumb and forefinger, causing him to burst into laughter.

It felt good to be back.  It was good to have regained some sort of routine in your daily life with your family. It was good to see the walls of the Red Keep return to their original familiarity, chasing away the ghosts you feared you might see again.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Perhaps you should have listened to your stepfather and not stray under any circumstances from the knight who has been following your every step with concern, afraid to lose sight of you. 

Five years earlier, it was Sir Erryk's vigilance that you had deceived when you had carelessly followed your eldest uncle into the dangerous streets of the capital.

The streets of King's Landing offered you a freedom you had missed. But now you almost regret sneaking through the crowds to escape the vigilance of the knight who had escorted you. You decide to take a shortcut, the hood of your cloak pulled down over your forehead.  It must have been your imagination.  You aren’t on the worst side of the city, not like five years ago, and the streets have become safe, much safer now that your parents are in power.

Your footsteps led you to some stone steps, which you climb at full speed, your heart pounding in your chest.  Glancing behind you, you disappear like a shadow around the corner of an alley, but the feeling is still there. You feel as if you are being followed.

At the Red Keep you already had the unpleasant feeling of being observed. In the gardens, with your son. Along the ramparts, enjoying the sea breeze on your face.

But you blamed it on your body's automatic response to the anxiety that had built up in all the years you'd spent within the walls of the Keep.

You slow your pace as you spot the dome and towers of the Great Sept at the end of the alley. From there you can easily find your way back to the Red Keep. All you had to do is keep moving, staring ahead, pressing your pace, wrapped in the thick wool of your cloak.

One step after the other. Breathing deeply. Half-moons in your palms.

The Great Sept growing closer give you a strange kind of reassurance.

And then suddenly, one hand closes over your mouth, the other around your waist. Your back bangs painfully against the cold stone wall of the winding alley into which you have been dragged. Fuck. Fuck.

You are too paralysed to struggle, too paralysed to bite the hand of the stranger holding you prisoner between the wall and his own body.

"You obviously learned nothing from my advice, Lady Strong," the icy voice whispers in the hollow of your ear. Your eyes widen. 

That voice. It couldn't be.

Lady Strong. Lady Strong. Lady Strong.

It can’t be.

That is your sick mind playing tricks on you again.

"As reckless as ever, hm, aren't you? You could easily get yourself killed."

The stranger releases you and you look up again, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, searching for that icy blue, tinged with lilac, that have read through you so many times before.

It is impossible.

He has died three years before, falling from Vhaegar's back into the deep waters of the lake at Harrenhal.

Is it a ghost? Is it a hallucination?

"You are dead. You were dead," you whisper, more to yourself than to him, still in shock from the feel of his body against yours. You feel the tears that have formed at the corners of your eyes roll down your cheek, and your little fists pound his chest.

You have so much to say to him. So many things to reproach him for.

His hand cups your cheek to turn your head and force you to look at him, his thumb wiping away your tears. 

The way he looks at you hasn’t changed; it still makes you shiver. You still feel that your uncle could read through you, that he could discover your deepest secrets.  And there is still that hint of desire, too, that gleam in his one seeing eye.

You want to kiss him. You want to slap him.

He clenches his jaw as he pulls you against him, burying your face in his chest, his arms around you. He rests his chin on your head. One of his hands strokes your dark hair as you stifle sobs into the wool of his cloak.

The situation takes you back to your wedding night, when he had comforted you in the same way after you had told him that you couldn't hate him, even if you had tried.

"I know," you hear him whisper, the vocal cords vibrating from his throat against the top of your head.

He is standing there, in front of you. You cling to the fabric of his clothes with all your might, as if you're afraid he'll slip away again.

"How?" you ask, eyes closed, head against him. If he is to be taken from you again, you intend to enjoy every moment in his company. 

He clenches again. You step back to look into his eyes, to search his enigmatic gaze for answers, for clues, for signs that would explain how. Why.

He doesn't answer you, but he is filled with desire as he grips your chin between his middle and index fingers, as he captures your lips with his own. You rediscover the possessiveness you've been missing. He pushes you a little harder against the wall behind you, as if to remind you who you belong to. Who you were married to.

A familiar warmth blossoms between your thighs, a warmth you haven't felt for too long. You're trapped, right there, your uncle towering over you, trapped between the wall and his body. His fingers close around your jaw and you kiss him back hungrily, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

You're perfectly aware that the situation is surreal.  You're perfectly aware that you're making a mistake, that you shouldn't respond to the kiss of the man who used to be your husband, not when he's technically still your enemy, not when he's technically dead. 

But you shut out the voices in your head begging you to stop.

"I still want to hate you, you know," you breathe between his parted lips. He merely mutters hm in reply, trying to shut you up again, his hands wandering under your cape, tracing the ribs of the body he'd missed so much. He reaches for your waist, your hips, which he grabs meanly. 

There's no one in the alley around you, but the hood over his head hides his long silver hair anyway. 

"Three fucking years." Your lips leave his, a mixture of anger and desire bubbling up from your lower belly. Aemond stares at you, his jaw clenched. He knows you need to unleash your emotions when you don't read an ounce of regret in his gaze. "Three. Fucking. Years. And you've told me nothing. You never sought to -"

"I couldn't," he retorts harshly. He seems to be searching for words to explain something you could not possibly understand, but his gaze does not soften. You know he needs time, you've learned to know him.  You've waited three years, what's another moment? But you're tired, and your patience isn't as strong as it used to be.  You look away, a mocking laugh escaping your lips as you repeat his justification. "You couldn't." 

"And risk your mother executing me?" He forces you to look at him again, and you feel the lump form in your throat. You know you are perhaps being unfair, but you were alone for those three years while you mourned him, so alone, and in a way, you want to make him pay.

"You were dead to me, qybor." Uncle. You feel him twitch at the mention of your family tie, at the nickname he used to love to hear on your tongue. "I had to live with the idea that you would never come back."

The tears that had dried on your cheeks threaten to flow again, pooling at the corners of your eyes. Aemond sighs. 

"I thought I was dead too," he whispers. You can feel the tension in every one of his muscles. There's a moment of hesitation, a silence that hovers between you.  You have so many questions, but you don't know where to begin.  Not a sound leaves your lips.

"She tended to my wounds," he adds, and you frown in confusion. "Alys."

Alys. You try to wriggle out of his grip, but he keeps you pinned to the wall.  Alys, you remember the rumours whispered in your ear by that rat of Larys - those false rumours, you remind yourself -  but you can't help feeling your heart clench.  You don't trust your voice enough to speak, to say anything.

"There's no one left in Harrenhal but her," he adds, as if you need that clarification, as if you need to know where he's been all this time. 

You say nothing. Your throat is tight. If you speak, if you look at him, you'll cry again and betray your feelings all over again. You refuse to make a fool of yourself, not now.

"She's the one who saw you. In Winterfell." There's a hint of bitterness in his voice as he mentions the place where you've spent the last few years rebuilding yourself, trying to forget him.  A bit of anger, perhaps, too.

"Cregan Stark welcomed me indeed," you reply curtly.  Perhaps you want to hurt him as he hurt you, but you are deliberately vague in your answer. "I have mourned you, qybor."

Everything is so confused in your mind.  A paradoxical blend of desire, anger, sadness, jealousy.  Of love too.

You want to strangle him and melt on his lips at the same time, and you know that after all this time you should be used to feeling this paradox of emotions with Aemond. Your uncle was a set of contradictions all his own.

"I saw you. On Midnight. That's how I knew you were here."

You nod. Words don't work between you, you know that. It has always been like that; the habit of letting silence speak more than words. The habit of communicating through the carnal acts of your bodies against each other. *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Aemond pushes you against the wooden door as soon as you enter the mediocre room of the inn. He is demanding, more than ever, as his hands run along your hips to your thighs to lift you up and press you against the door, your legs closing around him. He watches you with hungry eyes, like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. You can't stop a moan from escaping your lips. 

There's something feverish, passionate, urgent about the kiss. And when his tongue begs for an opening, your lips part to welcome him. There is only you in this room, an interlude where nothing else exists, where you don't have to worry about your duties and loyalties, where you are guided by nothing but passion.

His hand slams against the wall next to your head and with a movement of his hips he lifts you a little higher onto his waist, your legs locked tightly around him. He grunts into the crook of your neck at the friction of your crotch against his.

"Tell me to stop." His hand which isn't against the wall to support your weight slides up to your jaw. He lifts your chin, his gaze locked in yours, searching for clues, anything that would betray your desire to end whatever it is you're doing. "Tell me to stop now, or I won't be able to."

You don't want to stop. You should, you know you should, but you silence the little voice in your conscience that's begging you to pull yourself together, to end it all before you've even started, before you've even gone too far, and you kiss him with more vigour, with more fervour.

"I'm not going to tell you to stop, qybor," you whisper against his lips. "You know that."

His hardened member twitches beneath you at the mention of the High Valyrian, at the mention of that nickname he's so fond of. It's his weakness, you know, and despite the three years he's been away, he hasn't changed.

It's so good to feel him against you again, to feel his lips against yours, along your jawline to the junction with your neck. In one sharp movement, he rolls his hips to meet yours, pressing you a little harder against the wooden wall, and he catches your moan between his lips.

You know that tonight there will be no shy touches between you, no awkward explorations like in the early days of your love, when it wasn't tainted by war, blood, and death yet. You and he will both be consumed by the burning fire of passion.   You both need to release that tension and frustration, to make up for lost time, to drown, drunk with desire, in the most carnal of acts. All that matters now are his hands on your body to ease the pain pulsing between your thighs, the desperate need to feel him inside you. 

The barrier of your clothes frustrates you. You need to feel his skin against yours, to feel all of him, and your hand runs down his body to pull at the cord holding his breeches together. Immediately his fingers close around your wrist to hold you back. He wants to be in control, you know. But it has been three years and something about you just isn't the same.

"Let me worship you like I used to, qybor," you whisper against his lips, your forehead pressed against his, and you feel his jaw tighten. There's a moment of hesitation in his eyes, clouded by desire.

His thumb caresses your lips, pressing against your lower lip. You part them, just enough for the tip of your tongue to wet the top of his thumb. There are no further words exchanged between you, just silence, punctuated by your gasping breaths. His hand closes around your throat, not pressing too hard, just enough so you can feel the weight of his palm against your windpipe, just to remind you that he's in complete control of the situation.

Fuck, you've missed it; the adrenaline of his hand around your throat, the adrenaline of knowing he could do anything to you and you'd be defenceless.

"On your knees then."

The command echoes through the room and you feel the wetness seeping between your thighs as you slide to your knees in front of him. Your eyes shine with envy and you look up at him as you did years ago. You know he can't resist the angelic look on your face when you're between his thighs. You know he can't resist the dichotomy between the innocent look on your face and the sinful act you're about to commit.  He revels in your submission, and that's something you've learned to use against him.

Your uncle releases his cock from his breeches, his hand wrapped around the base, and the desire you feel between your thighs becomes more and more unbearable. The head is already glistening with anticipation, white pearls beading at the slit, and it takes all of Aemond's self-control not to grab you by the hair and force himself into your mouth entirely. 

Closing the distance, he rubs his member against your lips to spread the wetness before pushing into your mouth. Your lips close around him. He's warm and heavy on your tongue and the hand holding the base of his manhood is replaced by yours to cover what you can't take. Your tongue curls around the tip first, absorbing his salty taste, and you look up at him through your long lashes. He doesn't look away from you.

His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caresses your cheekbone before sliding to the corner of your lips, just where his length disappears between them. It's as if he's hypnotised by the spectacle, by the bobbing of your head, by your hollowed cheeks, by your application and devotion. 

His hands leave your jaw and sink into your thick curls, urging you to take him a little deeper, and he thrusts between your lips with more vigour. You close your eyes, concentrating on not choking as his member touches the back of your throat. You take it as diligently and assiduously as ever, ignoring the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

"That's it, just like that. Such a good girl, mandianna [niece], such a good wife," you hear him grunt, his movements more erratic, more jerky, and you revel in his praise, sending a new wave of heat between your thighs. "Only for me."

You feel him throb on your tongue. You know it won't be long now, and you prepare yourself to welcome him, to let the salty taste of his seed flood your tongue, but your uncle pulls back reluctantly. 

"I would rather not waste." he whispers, his eyes riveted on the thread of saliva that connects your lips, glistening with saliva and precum, to the tip of his cock. You shudder. Aemond definitely hasn't changed much, you realise.

His hand finds your cheek again and he caresses your lips to spread the mess you've made by sucking him. You know he isn't finished. This is just the beginning and you're both driven by the consuming hunger of passion. You know what's coming now, your core clenching around nothing, and you rub your thighs together, in an attempt to soothe the impatience. 

He urges you to stand. He has that predatory look in his eyes as he closes the distance between you with his determined steps. 

" Undress," he orders, and you do not take your eyes off him as you untie the linen dress you had put on to disguise yourself as a common girl.

The garment falls heavily to the floor, forming a grey puddle at your feet, and you take a step forward.

"Do you not like seeing me dressed in rags, qybor?" you ask in a playful tone, teasing, referring to the time, years ago, when he had rescued you during your adventurous walk along the grim Silk Road where your uncle Aegon had accidentally led you. 

The memory was so close and yet so far away.

Aemond takes a step towards you, his hand brushing aside the long hair that hides your breasts to tuck it behind your shoulder.

"Not when you are meant to be my Queen." His eye glow with desire. He studies your body in detail as his fingers slide down your collarbone to your breasts. His thumb traces their underside before moving up to your nipples, hardened by the cool evening air and desire. He plays with them, eliciting a moan that satisfies him.  He looks at you like one looking at a prize, a long-awaited gift.

"Three years away from my beautiful wife," he whispers, his good eye gleaming as he looks at your breasts.

"You did have pleasant company in Harrenhal though, didn't you?" you hiss through your teeth and Aemond's hand suddenly closes around your throat to make you swallow your insolence.  You're not afraid, not anymore, for you know he won't hurt you. You have this power over him and it's delicious. 

His face is so close to yours that your noses are touching. 

He doesn't let go of you. 

"It wasn't like that." He whispers. "With her." You know he's sincere because he's almost awkward with his words, his explanation. You can see in his eye that there are so many other things he would like to tell you, but you have learned not to rush him.  It has always been difficult for him to open up, to be vulnerable.

His fingers release you. Aemond is a good head taller than you, and as he puts a hand on your shoulder, moving forward to force you back until your knees hit the mattress, your eyes remain fixed on his. 

Your uncle lays you down on the mattress. It's not the comfort of the bed you once shared, but you don't care, you just need him inside you. 

You need him to make you feel whole again. Aemond was fire, and you were willing to burn for him.  You had always burned for him.

In the candlelight of the small bedroom where you spend the night, you see his thumbs slip under the waistband of his breeches. His clothes quickly join yours on the floor.

There's something soothing about the weight of his naked body on top of yours. Once under him, you know you can surrender completely to him and stop thinking, just stop thinking.

His lips on yours, his hands on your body, his broad torso eclipsing your smaller figure.

He places kisses down your neck to your collarbone, sucking your skin between his teeth to leave purple marks that will blossom tomorrow. 

He kisses your breast, his lips closing around an erect nipple which he sucks gently, then around the other.  Your hands are buried in his long silver hair.  You can feel how wet you are between your thighs. You need him desperately, right there.

The confidence with which his fingers slide down your waist, from your hips to your inner thighs, only emphasises his ravenous expression. His touch on your folds sends a wave of heat through your body, causing your hips to move against his hand. Softly tracing the curves of your crotch, his index and middle fingers finally part your folds to collect the wetness that has formed there.

"Is it sucking your husband's cock that has got you so wet? 

Yes, you want to answer, seeking more contact, but the words are stuck in your throat.

"Stay still," he orders in a hoarse voice as you move your hips, his hands gripping your hips to pin you back against the mattress. 

You comply, for once, because you know he won't give you what you want otherwise. And you can't wait any longer, not today, not when you thought you'd never feel his warmth against your body again, his hands on your hips, his cock inside you.

"You see, you can be a good girl." His voice is softer when you obey. And to reward you, his fingers slide to your entrance, where he applies a little pressure with the tip of his middle finger without actually penetrating you. "Now beg your husband to fill you."

"Please, qybor," you murmur, your hand taking his cheek to bring his face to yours. You want him to look at you. "Please, I need you inside."

Oh, the slowness and precision with which his finger plunges into you makes you throw your head back. He begins to move back and forth, his index finger joining his middle one, caressing your spongy walls, his thumb tracing circles around your bud. Curling his fingers, he strokes that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble and you clutch the sheets beneath you.

You feel your centre tighten around his fingers, the release you've been looking for so close, so very close. You shut your eyes, ready for the familiar wave of warmth to wash over your entire body, but your uncle pulls his fingers away. You grunt in frustration.

You open your eyes only to see Aemond bring his fingers to his lips indecently, spreading your wetness over his own lips. "You still taste so good," he purrs, and you feel the blush rise to your cheeks.

He leans over to kiss you and you taste yourself on his lips. It's indecent.

He pulls back and you see him wrap his hand around his hardened cock, the head angrily red and already drooling in anticipation. He guides himself to your core, rubbing his length between your folds, coating it with your glistening juices. 

The round tip of his member enters you, slowly at first, stretching your narrow entrance as if to give you time to adjust. Aemond pushes and he sinks easily into you until he's fully seated, your warm, wet walls feeling heavenly around him, squeezing him just right.

" You are so tight," he growls against you as your arms close around him, your legs bent and pressed to either side of his body. 

He gives you a moment to get used to having him inside you again, to feeling him so deeply. It's exactly what you need; he stretches you deliciously, with a perfect touch of controlled pain.

You feel whole again and you want to cry.  You never want to lose that feeling. You want to keep him, against you, inside you.

You close your eyes and bury your head in the hollow above his shoulder, clinging to him as if to feel him more deeply, more intimately.

"You can move," you reply, rolling your hips to support your words. Aemond's hand immediately presses down on your stomach to hold you against the mattress and you bite your lower lip, almost guilty of forgetting his earlier command. He always has that need to control. He's the one who decides, you should know it after all these years, and you should stop being so demanding, so desperate.

"I said stay still," he scolds you, and the waiting is unbearable. 

You need him. 

When he finally pulls out and thrusts into you again, you let out a whimper. Your nails dig into the pale skin of his back, leaving crescent marks that will probably still be there the next day.

Once under him, Aemond has the ability to make you vulnerable, and part of you hate him for it.

"You take me so well," he growls after a particularly brutal thrust. "You're such a good girl."

The praise is sweet music to your ears.  You have always needed it, to be praised, complimented.

You feel him hitting that special spot deep inside you, you feel him pressing in so deeply and your grip tightens around him.

"Did you miss me?" you whisper in a voice made weak by pleasure, but all you get in return are the hoarse grunts of his voice.

Aemond lowers his eyes to look at where you are joined, hypnotised by the sight of his cock disappearing inside you. The rhythm he imposes is powerful, deep, and his fingers find their way between your bodies, reaching your little bud at the top of your folds to trace circles on it. You won't last long and he knows it as he feels your walls tighten desperately around him. Your moans grow louder.

"Look at me." His voice barely brings you back to reality, even though your mind is already far away, even though you know you can't last much longer. Painfully, you open your eyes to meet your uncle's icy gaze. " I am going to fill you up." His pacing becomes more erratic, more sloppy, and you know he won't last much longer either. Leaning on his forearm, he continues to stroke your pearl in small circles. "I am going to fill you up and you're going to take it all."

The image of you, belly round with his child, haunts him.  It never stopped haunting him, even on the brink of death, even when he thought he'd exhaled his last breath as he fell into the icy waters of the lake, his heart clenched with regret and remorse. It still is a wonder that he has survived. Perhaps, just perhaps, the Gods still had plans for him.

I'm going to fill you up. Words like that shouldn't bring you to ecstasy, and yet they do. Aemond reaches deeper, and as he feels your whole body convulse with the spasms of your orgasm, he joins you in your release. He spills his seed deep inside you before remaining still, buried against your womb, enjoying your warmth, making sure he's pouring every last drop into you. 

He doesn't want to pull out, not yet, and you close your arms around his neck, your breast pressed against his chest as he softens inside you.

The weight of his body on yours is comforting.  For the first time in years, you feel alive. For the first time in years, the open wound he left seems to be healing.

When he pulls out, you wince at the sensation of his cock slipping between your still too sensitive folds. You immediately miss the feeling of fullness. 

You barely move, your whole body still sore from your lovemaking, but you can feel his cum leaking from your entrance onto the mattress below.

Again, Aemond's fingers are between your thighs that are glistening with the intimate essence of both of you, collecting his own seed and pushing it back into you.  You whimper, still too sensitive, your lips brushing against his, and he remains inside you for a brief moment. He wants to make sure nothing is wasted.

And when he withdraws his fingers, he presses them against your lips for you to clean them.

You snuggle up against him, your head against his chest. Your hand caresses his chest, the fine line of his muscles, and he rests his chin on the top of your head, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you close. You enjoy the warmth of his body while you still can. Between your thighs you feel the sticky sensation of his seed mixing with your wetness as it still flows out of you, but you don't want to leave the embrace of his arms.

"I saw you in the gardens. With the child."

When you feel his throat vibrate, you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed. "It was you, then?" You swallow. "It was you watching me." It's more of an observation than a question, and you suddenly understand that constant, uncomfortable feeling of being watched. At least you weren't crazy. 

He lets out a hm and pauses.

"Is he yours?"

You know where this question is leading. You fear the moment of truth.  You'd deluded yourself into thinking you could avoid it, but you were naive; did you really think you could hide the truth from him for much longer, now that he was back?

"Yes." You answer, looking away. You're nervous, and he can feel it.

"He's Cregan Stark's son, isn't he?"

Your heart clenches. You hesitate for a moment. You should lie.  You know you should lie.  To protect your son and your family, as you've protected them for the past three years.  You only need one word.

You hear him sighing beneath you, taking your silence as confirmation.

"No, he's not." 

The words leave your lips before you can even stop them. You hold your breath. Beneath you, Aemond tenses. He straightens, puzzled, silent.

"A bastard, then?" His voice is dry, almost mocking, revealing a form of irritation. "I did not expect this from you, dear niece." Disappointment.

You feel anger boiling inside you at the thought of him insulting your son, your sweet boy you love so much. You swallow the lump that has formed in your throat and rise on your forearms, your eyebrows furrowed as you turn your hard gaze on him.

You don't know how to express the words that are desperately trying to escape your lips. 

" He has blue eyes," you add, and you can see the confusion on his face. A lock of hair slips from your shoulder and falls around your face. "Your blue eyes."

You feel him tense up. He says nothing, just stares at you with his one seeing eye.  It's rare to see Aemond Targaryen so unsure of himself, so full of doubt. He stares at you as if he's afraid he's heard you wrong, as if he's afraid he's invented the words that have come out of your mouth.

"What did you say?"

You look away. You bite your lower lip, regretting your words.  You want to bury your face in his chest. You breath. 

"He is your son, Aemond." You finally admit it.

It's true that Rhaegar's brown curls could easily make him look like a Stark. Cregan had offered to raise him as his own, and you had smiled at his kindness.

Rhaegar is so much like you. Like you, and like Luke, and especially like Jace as a child, of whom he is the spitting image. He has the soft features of your face, but his eyes make him undeniably Aemond's son.

Your uncle holds you close, his arm wrapped around your waist, his long nose buried in the hollow of your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair.

"My son," he repeats in awe.  It's rare to see Aemond smile with sincerity.  Especially after the war has worn him down, made him more ruthless than ever.

"His name is Rhaegar," you say. "Just as we discussed." There's shyness in your voice.

He straightens, you on top, straddling him, and he seeks your lips to kiss you fiercely. His desire awakens beneath you; you feel him harden against your core again.

And this time, he makes love to you.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

"I missed the best part." He purrs against you, his hand absently caressing your breast before sliding down your body to rest on your flat stomach, just above where your womb lies. He clenches his hand possessively over your flesh. His voice is almost tinged with regret. Your hand rests on his.

"You shouldn't have left me," you reply, bitter. Deep down, you're still angry with him. Your gaze falls on your stomach, where both your hands lie, yours on top of his, clasped together. "You shouldn't have let your anger dictate your actions," you add, looking away. "But you were blinded by your desire for revenge, by your desire to prove that you could be better than him.” You swallow.

It is his fault, after all, that he missed your son's birth, that he didn't see him grow through the tender years of his infancy.

Rhaegar needed a father, and it was Cregan who raised him.

"Does he even know who I am? Who his father is?"

The guilty look on your face betrays you, and you know immediately that you've hurt his feelings. It may be selfish of you, but he needs to understand.

"You were supposed to be dead. There's still a lot he doesn't know." 

He doesn't say anything. You don't have the courage to meet his hard, stern gaze, you don't have the courage to see the disappointment and pain on his face, because if you do, your heart will tighten and you will fall apart.

"He's still so young. Give him time." You add, your fingers tracing small circles on the back of his hand, in an attempt to soothe him. 

You know how much Aemond wanted a son, and you know it's cruel to take that from him.  You know he would have made a good father. You can picture him with Rhaegar on his knee, reading him stories, telling him about the adventures of Vhagar and Visenya, and you love the image that forms in your mind.

You told Rhaegar about Aemond, though he was still too young to understand. You told him that his father had once owned the greatest dragon in the world, that his father was a fearless man for it was true, and you saw his big eyes light up. 

Aemond pulls you closer to him. "I want to be there for him, you know."  Unlike Viserys, but he doesn't have to say it, you understand what he means in the undertone he leaves at the end of his sentence.  He has always suffered from his father's indifference.

You cuddle up to him and he runs his fingers through your long curls. For a moment, you imagine that everything is fine and you search for his touch. He plants a kiss on the top of your head.

"I've missed you," he admits, the words landing on the tips of his lips in the silence of the bedroom, but you're already dozing off.

You know that tomorrow will be made up of choices and decisions. 

But for now, you fall asleep in the embrace of his very real arms, for once, enjoying the illusion of the life you both could have had.

[jgracie]

HOW YOU GET THE CURL

masterlist | rules

❝ idk if you’d do percy but with curly blonde hair (like pjo series ver perce) but if you do, i’d love a fic where he teaches y/n how to maintain curly hair (she doesn’t have curly hair) cause he loves the idea of her taking care of him ❞ — anon

in which percy teaches you how to take care of curly hair

pairing percy jackson x fem!reader

warnings none

on the radio . . . romeo & juliet (peter mcpoland), san fransisco (be sure to wear some flowers in your hair) (scott mckenzie), sunflower, vol 6 (harry styles), slow dancing (aly & aj), our house (crosby, stills, nash & young)

an can someone pls tell me the titles sooo smart and funny 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

“Honey, I’m home!” As soon as you heard Percy yell those words from your front door, you left the comfort of the couch and ran into his arms. He immediately put his bags down and picked you up, twirling you around before peppering kisses all over your face.

Life in New Rome couldn’t be any better. After the two of you got into the same university, your parents bought you an apartment to share so you wouldn’t have to be separated in university dorms, knowing all too well how you were attached at the hip. You had cried at the gesture, and Percy held you in his arms as he, too, held back tears.

A wide grin on his face, he asked, “how’s my favourite girl?” As he unpacked everything he’d bought that day, you gave him a rundown of your day. It was pretty mundane - some reading, some studying - but he listened as if you were describing the plot to a sci-fi movie. Your eyes quickly took in everything laid out on the counter, mostly groceries, and landed on one bottle.

You picked it up and read the label while Percy explained what it was, happy you were amused, “that’s a new curl cream. The one I’ve been using’s a little too heavy for my hair, always weighing my curls down. I think I’m gonna try it today, do you wanna do the honours?” 

“Honours of what?” You asked, confused. You didn’t have curly hair, so you didn’t know much about the effort that went into taking care of it, just that it required a lot of different products and was incredibly laborious, according to Percy. His curls were really cute though, so in your opinion, the labour was worth it.

Making his way over to you and wrapping his arms around you, Percy batted his eyelashes, “of trying it on me. I’ve been thinking, babe, you need to know how to do curly hair for when we have kids! Curly hair genes run strong in my family, so I wouldn’t be surprised if our kids inherit them.” 

You felt your face heat up as you thought about having kids with Percy, then smiled fondly when you realised what he was doing. Percy’s always been incredibly shy about wanting to be cared for. No matter how many times you’d tell him you didn’t mind giving him a massage or going over his maths homework, he’d always try to conceal his true intentions with some other lame excuse, like now.

“Okay! Let’s go do it now,” you said, dragging him over to your bathroom. You grabbed a stool for him to sit on and stood between him and the bath, hand-held shower head in hand (I hope this setup makes sense LOL). Making sure the water was the perfect temperature, you began rinsing his hair, careful to make sure no water dripped down his body. While you did so, Percy told you about his day. You always loved his knack for storytelling, your boyfriend never failed to find a way to make anything sound interesting.

Next, you squirted some of his shampoo on your hand and began lathering it in his hair. You felt Percy relax and smiled, glad he was content, “it’s okay to want to be taken care of, Perce. I’ll do it gladly,” you mumbled absentmindedly, to which he simply hummed. As you conditioned his hair, he began to doze off, which made you reconsider using the cream. You didn’t trust yourself to use it without his guidance, but didn’t want to wake him up.

In the end, you decided on disrupting his sleep, since you knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep that night if he slept now, “how do I do this?”

Percy took your hand and squirted some of the cream into your open palm, “rub it into both hands, then scrunch it into my hair.” You did as you were told, your hands light as too little was better than too much, in case you did something wrong.

When Percy looked into the mirror, he turned to you and smiled, “hey, you’re a natural! You should do this all the time” He asked, his eyes bleary. You would do this a million times if it made him this happy every single one of them.

After the cream came the gel, which was a lot easier since it was the same scrunching motion as before. You were a little apprehensive when Percy told you to put it in, since you didn’t think crunchy curls were the outcome. However, it all made sense during the final stage: the hair oil.

“This, my love, is what stops them from being all crunchy. Just lightly pass it over my hair,” Percy explained, pouring the tiniest amount of oil into your palm. You recognised the scent - it smelled like home, like him. 

You finished and admired your work. Percy was right, you were pretty good at taking care of curly hair. After running his fingers through his hair a couple times to loosen the curls up the way he liked, Percy gave you a hug, kissing your head thousands of times and saying a muffled, “thank you,” into your hair.

Nothing was more blissful than this. Well, until you smelt something burning.

Pulling away from you, Percy asked, “did you make something?” You wracked your brain for an answer then gasped, remembering what it was. Running to the kitchen with Percy behind you, you quickly pulled the cookies you were baking - once blue, now black - out of the oven.

“I wanted to surprise you with these!” You said, disappointed. 

Fighting the urge to cough, Percy picked one up and bit into it, grimacing for a second before smiling and holding a thumbs up, “it’s really unique, I’ve never tasted anything like these. You definitely did surprise me!” He said, sarcasm dripping from his voice Rolling your eyes, you discarded the cookies and replied, “oh, shut up, Perce”

[smutallyouwant]

Twice Fic World ch. 1

Night Club Darkness

Mina x Male Reader

Words count: 1.5k

Summary: You saw your sexy co-worker Mina at a nightclub, and she approached you with a smile. On the next day, she was late for work. What could've happened between you two on that night??

What a day from your office works, it's already 8pm in the evening and before you lay on your bed you heard a knock in your door.

" Y/N, it's me Jay"

" Coming"

You opened the door and your friends Jay, Ali, and Paul are here.

" Come on bro, put some clothes up and let's go have fun" said Ali.

This is a rare occasion that you and your friends had because you're all busy from work. Although you're tired, you can't pass on this opportunity so you quickly took a cold shower and dressed up nicely with a white slacks, white long sleeves polo, a black blazer, and your Heinrich Penny deep tan leather shoes. And of course, you also wore a nice perfume.

" My man looks like a gentleman aye?" said Paul.

" You're planning to get laid tonight? " asked Ali.

You chuckled. " No man, I just want to be presentable and smell nice"

" You don't need to lie to us, we know that you're longing for a girl" said Paul.

They all laughed and you all started to walk to the nearest night club.

After entering the club, your group sat in a cushioned sit and had a few shots. Your friends started to talk with girls and brought them to your table. You're not that fond with this type of parties so you started to question your decision of wearing this quite amusing clothes.

"Hey Y/N, we're going to dance a little bit" said Jay.

" Come and join us " said Ali.

" Yeah yeah, I'll come over " you said, knowing fully well that you have no intentions to.

After a few minutes you had a glimpse of a familiar body shape, coincidentally she turned around to you. It's Mina your sexy co-worker, you have a crush on her since she is nice but you don't think she got no boyfriend. She is approaching you with a smile, though you're not assuming that she's looking into you and you took a shot.

Then she reached your table and leaned into the cushioned seat.

" Hey Y/N, I didn't know that you club in this place"

"Holy crap she is indeed talking to you" you said inside your head.

You swallowed the shot and said

" Oh hey Mina, I didn't think that you club as well, although I don't club at all " you said in an underwhelming tone.

" Let me guess, a girl invited you over? "

" No, my friends invited me. We never had a chance to hang around since we're all busy so I didn't turn it down" you said while pointing to your dancing friends.

" Oh so they left you here while dancing with some girls " she said while pouting her mouth.

You're talking to your crush and she made a cute pouting, you can't stop your meat to grow.

" Come on let's dance too" she said before holding your wrist and leading you to the dance floor.

You two danced over a hype beats, and the music turned into a pop song with dirty lyrics on it. Mina started to wrap her arms on your neck pulling you closer to her face and you wraped your arms into her waist, pulling her closer to you as well. Your meat is growing larger and you can't hide the bulge it made to your pants.

" You smell great " Mina whispered to your ear.

Her breath made you shiver and made you horny as well, or is it because of alcohol?

" You smell great too" you whispered into her ear as well, and sniffed her left shoulder afterwards.

" It smells like strawberry" you said while looking into her eyes.

She can't hide the smile and she blushed all over her cheeks. You're also blushing but in a different section of your body.

" Do you like strawberries? " she asked while looking at you with a smile.

" Yes they're my favorite, on drinks, desserts, and even the strawberry itself" you answered.

" Do you want to come to my table so you can taste strawberry rather than smelling it?" she said while looking to you seductively.

You froze in a second and you thought of her offer. You crotch grown larger and you just smelled her shoulders again and gave it a little peck of your lips. After doing that you saw her bite her lips and started pulling you from your wrist to her table. It is the same cushioned seat with a table, the only difference is the lighting. It is incomparable darker.

She pushed you into the seat and crawled on top of you. After looking at her seductive face for a second, you started palming her face with your right arm and your left arm wraped her waist. She hugged your neck while her right arm is gently rubbing your hair while you're kissing her neck. You're hearing soft moan while you're discovering her neck using your tounge and lips. You pushed her gently and hold her neck with your right arm so you can kiss every part of her shoulders she hooked her left arm to your nape and her right arm is holding your legs for support.

While you're kissing her shoulders and back to her neck every sometime, she started grinding into your crotch and her moans intensified. You can't control yourself and started to kiss her lips and you both started to make out. With a gently passionate french kiss, you started to follow her rhythm and started grinding her as well while holding her waist to push her closer to your crotch. You both moaned inside your kisses. Your other arm found its way to her bountiful breast and started fondling it from above the clothes.

She broke the kiss and started kissing your neck. Your head leaned back and you hung there at the seat like a rotting vegetable. She started touching your bulge and she crawled under. You gave her a short sloppy kiss before she removed your belt and unbuttoned your pants. You leaned back and put both your arms into the rest of the cushion seat as Mina licks your shaft and started sucking your dick. You can't believe that she is now sucking your dick, you took a look and gently pats her head.

" Good girl, ahh~~ I love this Mina " you said in a moaning and rusty voice.

Mina started to suck it gently and slowly, you felt the tingle every time she licks the head inside her hot mouth. She can't do deep throat YET but she is a natural when it comes to massaging dick with her tounge inside her mouth. She stopped and quickly stood up.

" Stay there little Y/N, wait for me and you better keep stroking it so it remain that big " she said seductively.

Confused, you stroke your dick without hesitation. She quickly walked towards the comfort room, and you're assured that no one can see you pleasuring yourself while thinking about what happened and what can still happen.

After a minute she came back. She came back without her panties and her cycling while her shorts is still intact.

" What a naughty girl, thanks for that easy access " you said before pulling her for a kiss and forcing her to ride you.

You gave her no time to speak, she aligned her pussy into your shaft and she quickly grinds against your crotch. She can't hold her moans but no one will hear both of you due to the loud music. She leans back and you shoved both of her top's straps and revealed her tits. As you started sucking it, she leaned forward to you.

" Ahh~~ fuck Y/N, fuck me good, keep sucking it baby. I love it " she said under her moans.

" aah~~ " " fuck " " yes babyy~~~ "

You heard those words repeatedly under her breath. It turns out that she likes being fucked while her tits are being sucked. You keep that pace.

" Ahhhhhh~~~ Y/N, ahh~~ fuck~~ I'm cumming " she said almost yelling her brains out.

After she came, she laid onto you like a vegetable. But you're not done yet. You positioned her against the seat and started ramming her from behind.

" Ahhh~ Y/N , I just came " she said while moaning in a underwhelming tone.

" Someone might see us coming, ahh~~ yes baby~~ " she said looking at you from behind with a seductive smile. It came to you that she doesn't care if someone saw both of you fucking each other. Frankly, so are you.

" I can do this all night " you said while still ramming her.

As you pump her plump ass, you felt her pussy tightening.

" ahhh~ I'm cumming again Y/N please don't stop "

" Keep fucking me baby "

She said while looking at you seductively.

" I'm cumming too, can I cum inside? " you asked jokingly with a smile.

" Just cum into my face baby, I like it that way " she came back to you with a seductive glare and a smile.

You kept ramming her and she came, afterwards you felt yours is coming too. You pushed her and pulled her neck so you can shoot your load into her face. She hold both of your legs and you came into her face while she opened her mouth and reveals her tounge. You came all over her face and inside her mouth, some reached her tits and clothes.

She collected your cum with her fingers and eats it. You really appreciates her by doing so, so you gave her a proper kiss.

After you two have groomed inside the comfort room, you introduces her to your friends.

You two danced a little again before you invited her to come over your place. You fucked each other again before taking a rest, and fucked her again before eating breakfast and while taking a shower. You drove her home and you went straight to your office for work again.

" Mina is late today, she have never gone late since she worked here " your co-worker said.

" I wonder why she's late " you said under your smile.

------------------THE END----------------

Thank you for reading my first ever smut. Please let me know if you want more of Mina or if you want to have different Twice member for a smut.

[prettymuchteddy]

People who say that House Hightower destroyed the Targaryen dynasty are kind of silly because House Strong is right there. Like House Strong really apparently wanted to get in on the action and just helped bring down a monarchy.

Harwin straight-up had illegitimate children with the crown princess. And yes I know it takes two to tango but Harwin could have stopped it, though as we see in episode 6 he is more than down with this arrangement. The fact that the children just kept coming out looking nothing like her and he still kept seeing Rhaenyra. After Jace he should have taken a step back, I guess he wanted to see if things would change with Luke? Clearly not. The rumors about Rhaenyra's children just tarnished her reputation and put a target on their children's backs. This was him supporting Rhaenyra too and all he was doing was making things worse.

Larys is a whole nother level. The man flipped sides more than a pancake on a stove. The man was plotting against everyone, I swear. He was undermining anyone who wasn't outright helping him. He even got some personal hits in by helping force Rhaenyra out of King's Landing and then poisoning Aegon. This man was made for chaos and he happened to be born in the right time for it.

Lyonel is rarely talked about but it needs to be said, if Viserys neglected the growing problems so did Lyonel. He watched for years as his son, the commander of the city watch, got close to the princess and her having children who looked suspiciously like him yet said nothing. It's not until Criston Cole mentions it that he confronts Harwin. Like just because no one has had the guts to say doesn't mean no one was thinking it. He said it himself Harwin is committing treason that can result in the exile/death of Harwin, Rhaenyra, and the children but again why say it this late?

Just when you thought all the Strongs were dead after Aemond's attack on Harrenhal, enter Alys Rivers. Whether you believe that she cast a spell on Aemond or not, she followed her family tradition of messing with the Targaryens. Intentionally or not, she led Aemond to Daemon and was there to witness them kill each other. Single handily, she killed two Taragryens as well as two dragons: Vhagar and Caraxes. Then she ran off with baby Aemondcito to vibe at her vacant family home.

Say what you will about the Hightowers, I have never seen such a collected group effort by one family (unintentional or not) to cause so much chaos to another family. They were on opposing sides at some points yet still through every step were petty and screwed over the Targaryens. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. This was mostly me highlighting how weirdly funny it is how involved House Strong was in taking down the Targaryens before they themselves went extinct as a house. No hate to anyone just weird how connected they are with everything.

[darlingofvalyria]

❝Ask me, my prince. What a storm is to a dragon.❞

[ Aemond can only breathe through your lungs, through your adoration and love. But when betrayal is nigh, what does it truly beget? ]

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 6,935 ] | Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!Reader, minor, sort of (not really) Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers.

THIS IS A DARK FIC. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

contains— angsty, smut - DD:DNE: kidnapping, coercion, manipulation, possessive & obsessive behaviour, power imbalance, violence (not to reader) (a little bit to reader... i wrote this too close to book canon!aemond), murder, death, massacre, war - canon typical targcest, canon character deaths, canon divergence - dark!aemy - pregnancy, child, allusions to infidelity, mentions of bastard - i took liberties with canon (as i usually do) - #ripellyn you (sorta) will be missed shshs - the only specific reader descript. i did is the baratheon dark hair ok? ok - nsfw: male masturbation, dubcon/noncon, creampie - no kings, no martyrs, no betas.

a/n— there was this villain playlist on yt that was slowed and sexy, and my brain just. clicked. here it is if you wanna check. the real reason this is long is cos i can't help but add backstory ok? ok. lol. comment, reblog & like at will, mi luvs, mwa!

Storms have always been your favourite view in any window.

It is cliche to say, a proud daughter of the Stormlands, of course she enjoys the dark skies! But you do. There is nothing short of comforting in the rolling, fat clouds darkened in shadows. Occasionally, if the weather moved to your whim, lightning danced between plumes before you hear the boom and crack of it striking.

"It is a privilege to enjoy weathers such as these," your father once said, a hand on your darkened hair, a bluer tint to it, but Baratheon through and through. "It is our might that holds us at paramount, and thus, our privilege beckons warm fires and strong, stone fortresses to watch it all in comfort. To find enjoyment in the dark skies."

"Ours is the Fury," you replied immediately. Your father smiled.

"That, precisely. The paramount of our might and power is one we have taken and given with fury. Never forget."

"Even better than the Targaryens?" Your father's displeasure crumpled his face, and you were at an old enough age to understand his displeasure was not something you enjoy. But you had been learning all day, and the topic that day with your septa had been House Targaryen. You had learned the King's name, that he had a Queen that died, and that his heir is a girl.

His hold on your shoulders was heavy, but you do not flinch. Eyes bore into your own as if he was speaking the words into existence.

"We are the blood of the Kings too, my daughter. The White Hart proves our mark in the world, long before the dragonlords ever whispered in these lands. And what are dragons against the dance of storms?"

You had been little then, no more than six. The smallest of your sisters; Floris, though short in stature, looked elongated. A beauty. A fawn in the making. And your father is not the cleverest of men, but his words shelved itself in the corners of your brain. It eased and assuaged your fears like a quick spell.

Your spine straightens and your chin tilts upward. You are made of fury and storms, the blood of kings of old and solid, impenetrable fortresses.

You fury is your own, and 'neathe your fingers, under your very being, is a storm.

A good reminder, as when you had exchanged childhood for girlhood, a missive had been sent by the Queen Alicent Hightower, requesting for a daughter from Lord Baratheon's Four Storms, as companion for the Princess Helaena.

"Cassandra would do well."

"She hungers, husband. I am afraid of what might happen if we send her to the courts at her age. I do not yearn for a scandal."

"She would not shame her family so, do you reckon?"

"She is the eldest. You know how she is."

A sigh. "If she had a cock, she would be a good heir for my seat."

"Borros!"

"Apologies. Very well, mayhaps a good husband with no grit to him would do her well. She will lead the Stormlands by the hold of his— er, well, yes. Maris? She is clever."

"Far too clever. Even her tongue irks you, no. Definitely not. Her brain works too fast for her mouth. She will say the wrong thing and end us in war."

"You exaggerate, surely."

"I bore them, Borros, but they are your daughters. They live and breathe with your name and your House's banner under their own. What do you think? Bad enough they take so much of your heritage with them, and their looks, but they also plucked and chosen parts of you I'd rather not have for lady daughters."

Your father grumbles incoherently, you laugh under your breath.

"... Floris is too young. So..." The last one. You. You press your ear harder against the wood of your father's study, heart in your throat.

"She will be best," she says softly, insistently. She knows in her heart of hearts that though her husband is a hard, proud man, he has a softened heart for you. "Though she is clever, she minds herself well. Polite. Kind. She will do well with the Princess and her, er, eccentricities."

"Bloody weirdoes, the lot of them." A sigh. Another chastise from your mother, but she too, sounds exhausted. It has almost been a moon since the missive has been sent. Another one is bound to arrive, more order than request. It is all a political game. Princess Rhaenyra had no Baratheon ward under her court when she still resided in Kings Landing, for you and your sisters had been too young and your father had no sister. It is by chance that gives the Green Queen advantage to take a ward under your father's banner now, with a daughter she seeks to be Queen Consort.

"Send her then," your father announces. Though defeat clouds his voice, the Lord in him speaks each vowel clearly. "She will do best to represent the House out of them all. We might have a betrothal in our hands soon enough."

"She is pretty enough for a prince."

An angry snort. "She is more than pretty enough for a prince. Far better than the lot of them."

Softly, "That is because you like her best."

"Why would I not?" your father replies gruffly, making you smile. "A storm grinds and brews inside of her, wife. Even Maestre Loes, the old gnat that he is, sees my bloodline thick in her. Even if the King asks for her hand at this very moment, I would refuse. I would throw him off Storm's End with a smile on my face and a boot on his back."

You fight off a snort as your mother grumbles about treason and Maris.

"She is far better than the best of them." Another sigh. Heavier. "Why are we sending her?"

Your mother sighs. "Because as she is the best of them, she is the best of us. She will survive far better in that cesspit they call a keep than any of our daughters. Her storm can tame dragons."

You would argue that that too is treasonous given the context, but your father merely laughs. His laughter is a crackle and a boom.

"I would upheave our coffers to witness that."

Though you find her odd, you enjoy spending your time with the Princess Helaena. Mostly, she is quiet, in her own little world. Though it took time to get used to her many-legged friends, you soon realised the best times you spend with her are when shipments and gifts of pinned butterflies and books that have reached as far as Yi-Ti, to get to Kings Landing about bugs, and undeniable excitement unfurls in the Princess' face. More like a girl, a sweet one.

It makes her already cherub features appear more child-like, and she grasps your hand voluntarily as she points at each and every critter she recognises. It is so very rare to see true happiness in the princess' visage, and in her enjoyment, you see your sisters.

That is how you meet him, the Prince Aemond.

Princess Helaena had gone for tea with the Queen. It had not been planned. Though she often spent tea with family, either the Queen or the Lord Hand, or either of the Princes. Something had occurred, so now that Princess was having tea with her Queen Mother and her husband. If you had to guess, it was likely that Prince Aegon was being punished in some way.

Though there is no love lost between siblings, it makes you sniff at how blatant the prince's obscene indulgent for vices are. Princess Helaena didn't mind, rather, she didn't care unless they needed to spend time together, a clockwork patch of routine, and that was when you usually came in— you later realised, your primary job — soothing her nerves and distracting her thoughts before she had to enter her marriage chambers.

There is a resigned defeat in her, a woman's duty bearing down, looming like the Mother, and it makes you want to soothe her harder. Make her laugh.

With the change of plans, it was up to you to check for the new shipments of the Princess' things. A dictated note in your hand of the princess' handwriting, you were going through her boxes when a hand, gloved, rests on your shoulder.

"Do not move," a cool voice says behind you. Far too close for propriety.

You freeze. "Pardon?"

"I do not want to scare you, my lady, but there is a critter atop your head." The cool, calm voice waves off a steady rhythm to your heart, calming it further from the earlier panic of someone laying a hand on you (although this, is still not better. You are a lady and unmarried after all). "I will rid of it immedi—"

"No."

"... Pardon?"

"Where is it? Just atop my head?"

"... Yes?"

"It maybe poisonous, pease do not touch it." Before the owner of the hand and the calm voice could react, you pat your head until you touch a hairy, small thing with many legs. Relief spreads. "There you are."

"There you are?" The voice says, almost mocking, incredulously.

You huff, taking the spider in both of your hands, before you tilt your chin behind you, only seeing the gloved hand. "Please take your hand away from me."

The hand retreats. You turn.

Valyrian features are most uncommon than your own, and the jolt of recognising the pale, white hair is a strike to your being, a gasp falling from your lips. It is the one-eyed mask that tells you immediately who it is, but you string everything else you know of the prince.

Prince Aemond had been travelling to Oldtown, a visit requested by the Queen in the guise of seeing family, his brother. But there had been whispers of something more, as the chatter of the maids who cleaned up in the King's quarters talked about how ill he got day by day.

You had seen flashes of him before this, but fate had kept you two apart. You were not there when he visited the princess— on another errand or two, and he starkly ever looked at the ladies surrounding his sister with a vehement light as their voices, high pitched and dreary, tire him so on a good day, increasingly irritating on a bad one, and anyway, the silence that falls in a stone room just from his arrival is enough to irk him.

But here is he now, with one eyebrow rose, a good eye of icy blue iris, and the very visage of a warrior in black leathers, a braided hair pulled to one side, and pursed lips in both amusement and annoyance.

He hums. The sound kicks back your manners, blushing lightly at having gaped at him for far longer than pleasantry dictates, and you pull yourself into a bow.

"My apologies, my prince, I didn't know it was you. I was scared you were going to hurt the Princess' new friend."

"They are bugs," he says steadily. "Not her friends."

"Like so, but just because they have many a legs do not mean we cannot befriend them." A small smile plays on your lips before you place back the spider in the cage he got out of. It is something you had once said to the princess to make her laugh. You feel his stare burn at the side of your face. "Is there a matter, my prince?"

"You are the Lady Baratheon, are you not?"

"I am." A small, ironic smirk tugs at your lips. "Is it the hair?"

He makes a soft sound that exhales like a laugh out of closed lips. He's still quite close, you can feel his warmth and idly wonder if all Targaryens truly do have the blood of the dragons in them for you can feel the contours of him, burning at the edges of his being. Like a comforting little furnace.

"Hm. And the princess has taken quite the liking to you. You are all she talks about during sup."

You can't help it, you're smiling. So many rumours concerning the young prince, not all of them good, but there is a certain novelty in basking under the attention of a prince of the realm. A Valyrian beauty that brought an ethereal glow to him. As so intently stares, catching pieces and niches as if you are the most fascinating creature.

The attention makes you feel like a blushing lady.

"My apologies then, my prince."

He cocks his head, the braid dipping and you catch the movement in your peripheral. "Whatever for my lady?"

You turn to him, unable to curb the cheek to your smile. "For interrupting better conversations with the topic of my name plaguing your sups so."

His mouth twists into a smirk. In Aemond's mind, it is not oft that ladies, especially Helaena's ladies, would care to... flirt with him. Because this is you flirting, is it not? The coy gaze, the curl at the edge of your lips? Aemond has seen these faces in ladies and maids alike, but directed at others. At Aegon.

Directed at Aemond... bereave to keep their conversations to themselves, and though it is not always a fault of theirs for his stoicism is his most valued armour, one would resign oneself of an arranged marriage that will take long moons before his lady wife would see the truest him, that he would not be able to experience such... coy conversations with the opposite sex.

Yet here you are, a light dust of red in your cheeks, a quirk in your mouth, and the playful joust in your eyes, daring him into a swords' dance.

It is thrilling.

"Plaguing is too harsh of a word to say so about a lady of your stature, Lady Baratheon." He steps closer, aware of propriety standards of how close two unwedded people should be, but he feels intoxicated of the whiff of life exhuming from your visage. A light citrus, oranges? Lemons? Tart and sweet, with a powdery finish. It is so very ladylike.

Addicting.

The perfect smell for a lady wife, a musing thought.

"Is that so?"

"Intriguing, I would say, would be the better word."

You laugh, low and sweet. It sends a pleasant warm to his centre. "I'm afraid my memory is failing for I do not remember any wily adventure or conversation the princess and I had for a prince of the realm to say I intrigue him so."

"It is less... about wily adventures or interesting conversations that pique my interest, but the lady herself." His eye, though lone, the other remaining hidden behind an eyepatch with hints of scarred, twisted skin underneath, bore against yours as if he wished to gather all your strings and see what each would give him. What you would show him.

"I'm afraid to disappoint you, my prince, but I still fail to see how I can ever so pique your interest." You meet his gaze, smirking. "I am just me."

Before he can answer, step forward— whatever, he is staring at the curve of your lips so, at the enchanting shimmer of your eyes, and Aemond Targaryen felt breathless — your named is called, and the spell is broken. The prince steps back, taking more space between you that is more appropriate.

His hand flexes.

But that is not the last you see of the prince, nor the last time you are able to hold a conversation with him. It seems that since then, you find yourselves orbiting each other in the fringes before one steps forward and engages. There seems to be a band that tightens either of you so obsessed with seeing the other in the periphery, the topic whatever may came, even as inane as the weather.

It is a dance of swords, kissing blades of sharp quips and interesting parry. You are interesting. Beguiling. Devouring. Aemond searches for you in most places now, unable to stop himself from asking his dearest sister about you— even his mother and grandsire have taken notice, eyebrows rose between shared looks.

"House Baratheon is of a Great House," his mother hesitantly brought up, too focused on her soup for it to just be idle chatter above sup.

"It is." His forced passivity is not as apathetic as he can make it. For any mention of you and your origins thrums his heart in a dance.

"And the Lady Baratheon has many admirers, a kind and dutiful lady, and Helaena likes her so."

He turned to his mother then, humming. At the barest hint of a smile in her son's face, Alicent beamed.

But others from court also soon took notice, and when Aemond realises the wagging tongues had come to note your name— unkind whispers besmirching your person, he disappears from you altogether.

The differences become stark to him; realising what a foolish endeavour it is to want you. Though he is a prince, he is mutilated, a monster that will ruin you. You are too good for him, a warmth he had forgone in the face of misery, apathy, and hatred. The urge to conquer your every thought and sound, from your fingertips to the top of your hair... it is a gasping thought, one he shamefully sins at the blackest hours, tugging at his cock desperately to the thought of what you had looked like that day. The sound of your laughter, the pull of your lips when you smiled, the gasp you let out when you touched water that had been too cold— his mind bends and moves, and images of you, images that he will have to pray for the in morrow but cannot stop—

Moves him to completion, a strangle grunt of your name from his lips.

And yet, every night since, it happens again and again.

The more he pulled away from you, the more he wanted you. It is a debase urge, one more fit for his drunken cur of a brother than he, more creature than man.

But he cannot stop, so the torturous cycle continues.

Until you've had enough.

You know that during hours of inky night, the prince prefers the sanctum of the library. Not always, and lately, not often, but if there are a few things you learned in the hunting trips your father brought you that your mother never approved of, is that lying in wait, patient, deals a hand much better.

And on the fourth day of your waiting, your hair in a braid, a book on your lap, and a small candlelit close by as to not alert any spooked princes— the door opens at the Hour of Eel, the familiar and sorely missed footfalls of a quiet but sure-footed prince enters.

You admire him for a moment, hidden as you are, your stare drinks in the ever smooth of his twilight-spun hair, those pursed lips and straight lines. He's lithe but you know, having been offered his arm on every walk, he is made of hard muscle. Aemond always walks so smoothly, like a panther, or a gazelle, with the barest hint of austre he can never hide.

It's the prince in him, you giggle to yourself.

A sweet pang in your chest is the reminder of how much you missed his presence. And that ends tonight.

With his back turned, perusing a shelf, you shuffle and make yourself known with a soft, almost admonishing voice.

"Good eve, my prince."

He stiffens, hand poised against a spine of a tome. He barely turns, only his head to the floor, in the general direction of you. "My lady. I did not expect you to be here."

Frustrated, you sigh loudly. "Have I offended you so horribly? Dishonoured you in some way?"

"What?"

"Why can't you even look at me, Aemond?"

A sharp intake of breath. When he speaks again,his voice is changed. "You forget yourself, my lady."

There is an ache to your being, pursuing your lips. "You had given me permission with your given name, my prince, or have you forgotten?" Anger overcomes propriety. Fuck propriety. You charge toward him, heavy, angered steps until you're close enough. "Can't you at least look at me, look at me as you push me away as if I amnothing—"

He turns abruptly, one eye flashing as he grasps your elbows in a grip. His eyes zero in on your lips as a gasp falls, eyes widen— if you could see better, you'd notice the darkened gaze drinking you in. Your widened eyes, your open lips— and Sevens, only a robe hides your nightgown, the smooth expanse of your skin is more bare to him than ever before.

His beautiful, beloved stag.

"You have never been nothing to me, nēdenka riña brave girl," he hisses. "Konir sagon se drīve That is the reason."

"Prince A-Aemond?" you say. He is against the shadows of the moonlight, only his hands holding your own is illuminated.

A wrangled exhale falls from his lips. You follow the sound, worried.

"Are you? Injured? Are you okay?"

"I have not been okay for the moment I met you," he rasps, hands bruising in his hold.

"Well. Gods. I'm sorry. If it's such a offense—"

"It is an offence!" he growls, pulling you abruptly that you yelp, bathed in shadows and darkness together, your eyes adjust as you scramble to have thoughts apart from just being this close to him. Hearing a voice you had never heard of him before, untethered from his princely visage, from manners and proper, and it makes you burn.

The thoughts of wanting him close, of taking more of that space until you are chest to chest are blushing thoughts.

But there is honour still, for he holds you at least an arm's away.

"I have wanted you the moment I have laid eyes on you," he whispers, voice rough, exhausted. "And each day I spend with you, each hour— my honour stands in shambles, in ruins at my feet for I want you as a man wants a woman. Honourably and... and carnally."

You swallow, and he follows the movement like a predator tracking his prey. The blush in your cheeks, the way your lips press together as if you are just as starved of him as he to you— oh, you want him too, don't you?

One hand moves from your elbow to slowly reach up. Your arms, your collarbones, your neck. A thumb brushing your cheek and your eyes flutter.

Aemond wants to devour you.

"You plague me so, and I crave you."

"Then have me," you sigh.

His eye closes. "I cannot sully—"

You grasp his neck, bringing your mouth close to his. "You cannot sully what is freely given. If you crave me, I want you."

Honour unbound, a snap is tightened by the hunger that uncoils from a dragon that wants you. Aemond had grabbed the back of your head, tangled his fingers, and made a mess of your mouth.

Gasps and teeth, touching skin from where you can feel it— touching skin from where you unbuckle, tear through hem and push against cloth. When he slams you again the shelf, a moan so lewd falls from your lips that he groans, pulling your nightgown until he feels the heat from your very womanhood, and so, so wet, that when he flicks his thumb, curious and entranced, moving it around experimentally, you are a mess of sound and feeling, gasping his name, A-aemond, oh gods, please, and he is whispering, forgive me, f-forgive me, like love letters, like penitent, like a kiss from a traitor so wrong but so tasteful against your skin as he pulls himself from his confinements, holds you steady, and breaches your tight cunt.

Just before a scream tears through your throat, he devours your sound, holding you steady, until the pain bleeds pleasure and you are holding him like an anchor in dangerous seas. You cannot think or feel anyone else but him; what you are and who you are do not stand a chance as Aemond Targaryen swallows your senses.

It is harsh and fast, it is sweet and devouring, and more, more, more, you don't know what you're begging him, you feel like a devout and he feels like a god, grunting against your skin, biting through anything his teeth grazes. When he shifts you at an angle, finding a spot that feels like a lightning striking through your entire being, you are screaming, twitching, reaching a high so blinding it feels like white death.

"Is that it? That sweet spot?" he purrs, a breathless laugh, shocked and delighted drinking in your trembling and pleasure. "Your cunt is tight against my own, holding me like you never want to let go." You cry out when his cock hits that spot again. Your combined wetness makes an obscene squelch, just as pretty as the sound you utter. He smirks. "Can you hear that? Not even a whore can make a sound so sweet, hm?"

His teeth grazes your lips, sending shivers through your body as he licks the roof your mouth. "I want more of that sound. As your prince, you would grant me this, yes?"

But he isn't waiting for an answer, planting his feet and holding you steady, angling you back to that spot until he is snapping his hips, fucking into you as you can do nothing but beg and cry and tremble in the arms of a dragon taking what is his.

And you are.

You are his.

Maybe you had known it since then.

You definitely do when his seed floods your womb.

You want to say that that night was a fluke, a mistake that must be regretted. But once your gaze meets another, the fire burns, flickering and dancing, and it repeats. In quick fucks in dangerous spots, to slow, sweet love making in his room.

You are his, in mind, body and soul.

"Death is nothing but a friend," he murmurs against your neck, holding you close. Sweat cooling between your naked bodies. "It cannot stop me from finding you."

"I hope you say that to my father well," you tease.

" Marrying you is but the next step, my love. You are already mine as I am yours." He plays with your hair, brushing it past and kissing a bruise he made on your breast. "In face of every god and more, they will understand that we are but one soul."

You can plan the future in rose-coloured gaze for as much as you can, but the truth of marrying into a family with war brewing inside of it, held together by a dying king's hope and corpse fingertips— it is another matter entirely.

It all comes to a sharp clarity when Viserys I dies... and they keep his rotting corpse a secret.

And then they crown a whoremongering drunk.

"Aemond," you break into the silence, your entire being too cold for comfort. You had just come back from a privy council, a Green Council where the Queen had ordered you and your betrothed to reach Storm's End before the night fully breaks.

As if she knew where your loyalties are.

As if there is no question you will support the usurpation.

You turn to Aemond, busy with packing his things for they have bared the maids and people the of Keep. Because they are making Aegon as king and they know a revolt is underneath the floorboards.

"Aemond!"

"What? What has happened?" He looks confused, irritated. "We must make haste, my love, if we are to beat the storms at—"

"Princess Rhaenyra is Queen," you whisper but it could have been a scream. Saying it aloud gives you confidence, strengthening your resolved. You turn to him. "She is the King's heir, no one else. Aemond, this is an usurpation, unlawful in the eyes of—"

It takes little strides for him to reach you, for him to hold your neck in a tightened grip of warning.

"She," he spits, slow and careful as if you are a simpleton in need of teaching, "is a whore who is attempting to place her bastards on the Iron Throne. Rhaenys Targaryen held no chance of it, just as she. My brother is the firstborn son. He is king." His fingers dig into your skin. "You will do well as my wife to not speak of such blasphemy once more, do you understand?"

Your shock and fear melt from your visage, making way for compliance. You nod once. "Yes, my prince."

"Husband," he corrects, holding you much gentler but the weight of his hand is still there on your neck. A reminder. "Have you forgotten? We only come to Storm's End to officiate our union and your House's loyalty to the King. Once done, we will marry, yes?"

You nod, hands fisting. "Yes."

When he kisses you, harsh and needy, imprinting his will unto you— you close your eyes and plan how you make known to your Queen of their plots.

But Storm's End doesn't go as planned, does it?

Lucerys Velaryon, the Queen's son who had come as nothing more but an envoy for the rightful heir, and Aemond—what you thought to be your Aemond but a monstrous man who needed his revenge, who needed to draw blood for a grudge so deep, for an existence he finds so abysmal — had chased after him and came back to you bloodied, tearing up your dress, rutting in you in harsh, rough thrusts, as you listen to the storms from your window and think,

The Queen will never find his body. Her poor, sweet boy. Half in the belly of a beast, the rest spread and sunken into the water.

"I will not allow any marriage until the realm is at peace," your Lord Father rumbled with finality. He is not a smart man, truly, but he is a father. His gaze meets yours, full of meaning, of promises, before looking back at the seething prince. "You will have my bent knee for your king and for your war, but my daughter's hand shall be her own until the realm is at ease."

Your mother steps forward, her courtly smile on her face. "We want for her to have a grand wedding, my prince. She is the first of our charges to wed, and to a prince of the realm no less! By sure, at the time of war, we must err on the side of caution, as our coffers will no doubt focus on our troops. A future princess of the realm must be mindful, of course."

She bows in deference, your sisters following suit. Maris is the first to look up, defiance burning in her eyes.

You remember a conversation with him, feeling like a lifetime ago.

"Ask me, my prince," you teased. "What a storm is to a dragon. A creature is a creature. Even you must acquiesce to the way of nature for she has bowed to no one since her existence."

Aemond may be blood of the dragons, but he is surrounded by storms on all sides. The fiercest.

And your father will never marry you to a Kinslayer.

Yet you stay beside him, your duty now clearer than ever. Every new information you can grasp is sent back to the Queen and her council. In a courtier of the Greens and Traitors, you are the sole Black Stag. You use Aemond's adoration for you, his possessive obsession of what he thinks is love, as a protection and guise.

Any time he beds you, you sneak in moon tea. His bedding of you is just as much his hold on you and his defiance against your father's refusal. Once caught, you remind him he would not enjoy a bastard child. Especially at a time of war. Not after what they had done to his nephews.

"Do you want for me to suffer as your sister does?" The tears in your face then had not been a folly, for your heart broke for sweet Helaena and her sons. For Jaehaera. The world bleeds and bleeds, and all who die that reaches your ears are nothing more but innocents.

Aemond does not bed you after that, but he keeps you in his chambers, pulls you close as if he is trying to mould your skins as one. Times like this, your heart stutters. Your love to him and your morality as a person is at a test of swords.

You are in love with him,

He is a monster,

He has lost his nephews,

He has killed his own.

And it makes you wonder if you are a monster too, lying beside him as his bedmate, caring for him, wanting him still as his heart beats as your own, so connected to the umbilical of fate and chance while war rages, bodies falling all around you both, most from his own hand and word.

The war rages, and Harrenhal comes to view.

With it, a slaughter and a witch.

The worst of the massacre is the steely, lulling silence.

No one tells you that most of what an execution is that silence. That it amplifies each scream, each shout, each thick drop of a head as it falls on cobblestone. The sound is wet and a mouthful. Then it is nothing, consumed by that silence again.

You are locked in a room with a window that doesn't face the horror of what Aemond is doing. As if this is enough to shield you from what he is, what he truly is doing to win this war.

The worst part, committing genocide of an entire house is nothing more but a horrific grudge.

Strong blood spills, enough to make a lake.

By the time that night bleeds and a maid had entered with dinner to light a fire— your body is still so cold. No food has touched your stomach since the day before yet you retch.

Does loving a monster meant that you are just as monstrous?

Mayhaps it is still worth it, you muse in your silent madness, tears tracking your cheeks as the heaviness of your being stays. For who can say a monster can love you so monstrously? Who else can?

When Aemond comes back to you, freshly cleaned and a reminiscent of the prince that you loved, and he is making excuses of wanting you as you are, pawing at your clothes, you let him. You make love in the silence suffering from the massacre he had just finished. You hold him and kiss him in a desperation as you know this will be your ending.

That your Aemond is gone, or worse. He had never truly existed.

When you are both spent, satiated in a sweet glow, your head pleasantly quiet, he speaks about a plan.

A woman, a Strong witch, that promises him an assurance of winning with her sights and blasphemous magic. He had spared her among others, and that itself makes you look at him, truly look at him.

In exchange of what— for such things do not concede so easily as gratitude to mercy of one life, yes? Because desire devours itself. A snake eating itself.

"A child," he whispers against your battered head and bruised heart. "From my blood."

"A bastard," you murmur as he stiffens. "From a bastard Strong. Surely the irony is not lost on you? You have started this war by killing your bastard nephew, and you plan on ending it by fathering—"

"Do not question me," he says softly, grip tightening against your arms. Your eyes close, heavy with the weight of being a spy. Of loving him. "I will fuck a babe in her how many times it takes, and when the war is won, I will kill her and it. For your womb is the only place my lineage will live. I am doing this for the good of the realm. For us."

When he thinks you are asleep and leaves— you take your things and make haste to leave. Not once has your people left you in the arms of the kinslayer. Always one maid, always three guards from your father's army, loyal to only you.

You bundle up quick, and rush for the passage, you are blocked by a woman. Pale skin, dark hair, and eyes greener than wildfire. You know her before she speaks. You hold yourself to fight, and the witch of Harrenhal laughs.

"You have changed the tide of destiny, my lady." Her head tilts as if she can see past you and through you. "Once your choice has affirmed, your thread chosen, I cannot stand in the side of the One-Eyed Kinslayer without the Stranger coming for me. So instead, I will grant you one gift. One that will require no sacrifice."

"I do not want it."

"Ah, but it is a gift." She nods at your torso. "Your belly will soon take size, in it, his heir. You will not escape him as soon as he knows." Her head twists to the window. A raven flies. A storm grumbles. The sound comes first before the lightning strikes. A false storm. "Time is flowing, changing and twisting. He may have betrayed his kin, but he is still a prince. He will know soon."

Her green eyes glint as if she is seeing now and tomorrow. Now and a moon. Moon from a year. "You must run now. Hide and hide well."

You hold your stomach, bile rising in your throat. "Where? Where am I safe?"

A faint smile rises to her lips. "Your heir looks more like him than mine did. You will not escape him. But go north. As far North as you can. The fjords can hide him for a while. He will grow well there."

She moves away, letting you pass.

You never look back.

Dark locks. Baratheon hair.

A tuff of silver lock atop his head.

And the rest... his nose, his eyes. With your fingers, you pull his lids. Bloom in mullish blue with the faintest tint of iridescent violet. You know from your histories, that faint tint will overpower the blue.

Oh, he is utterly beautiful. Utterly yours. And utterly his father's son.

Rough breaths strangle out of your raw-bitten lips, brushing blood away from your babe's face, his head, his wet, silvery hair. Few they maybe, unmistakably Valyrian features they still are.

"Oh, he is beautiful," your mother murmurs, tears stain her cheeks. "Quiet as you were, as a babe. Looks just as much as you."

She is weighing his Valyrian features too. Your blood tried, but it seemed as if Aemond's grudge grasped your womb and affected your shared blood.

"We cannot stay," you say, still staring at him, admiring him. Your heart locking in place, steeling itself as you prepare to do your utmost to protect him. "We will have to travel posthaste."

Your mother swallows her grief. She had almost lost you. She will lose you again, now along with her only grandchild. "Where?"

"North. As far as North as we can."

Your mother nods. Ever a lady. "I will send a missive. The Lord Stark is loyal to the Queen and knows by how much you have sacrificed for this realm. He will protect you on his honour or he is no Stark."

You will need to hide. You will need to hide well.

You pull him close to your chest, hot tears freshly spilling from your eyes.

The witch had not lied, for your boy grew up amongst ice and warmth. He grows up with love from you, from the Lord Stark and his people, and love from his father in the way that he resembles him.

The slope of his nose, the sweet purse of his lips.

When your boy had gotten angry once, nothing but a quick burst, it shocks fear and tears from your eyes for you had seen the prince.Nothing more than a flash.

You pull him close and wound him to your heart as he cried, apologising for scaring you.

The North had granted you reprieve from the war as it came and went. Your betrayal to the Greens had mounted to the Black Queen's win. The betrayal of House Baratheon as House Stark and their bannermen joined the fray had squandered any rebellious thought on which sovereign will preside.

The last you heard of what became the Prince Regent was his surrender at the Battle Above God's Eye.

When you had cried that night, you did not know if it was from relief. Or fear.

But a black stag on white snow is easy to spot.

It takes years, yes, but the Stranger is but an old friend.

For when the day of your wedding to the Lord Stark arrives, a familiar screech of a dragon that your marrow will never forget— tolls the bell of death.

And when you looked up, snow swirling, holding onto your son that looked up in awe at the man who looked so much like him—

Aemond is smiling.

Sweet came the word— dracarys! — as Vhagar split her mouth opened and obeyed her rider.

What have I told you?

You are mine as I am yours.

In face of every god and more, they will understand that you and I are but one soul.

[togrowoldinv]

Time

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When you visit the Bartons with your family, you and Natasha spend some quality time reconnecting

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, fingering (R receiving), oral (N and R receiving), being needy, some fluff too

Note: Enjoy this hehe

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

“Are we there yet?” Your youngest daughter asks from the backseat of the car.

You’ve been driving for hours to reach the Barton farm. Natasha wants to visit while the kids are on spring break.

“The answer is still no, sweetheart,” Natasha answers patiently.

“We’ll tell you when we get there, Taylor,” Ali, your oldest, jumps in. She’s annoyed by the constant question and her tone doesn’t hide that.

“Be nice,” you remind her.

“Yeah be nice, Al,” your oldest son says. The two oldest kids start arguing, but Nat stops it quickly.

“Hey, none of that,” she says, expertly parenting. “This is a family trip. We will be kind to each other and we will have fun. Understood?”

A few nods follow.

“Understood?” Nat repeats.

That gets her the answers she was waiting for. A chorus of yes ma’am’s resound from the backseat. You turn up the radio and try to make the last hour of the trip enjoyable.

When you pull in the driveway, you look back at Taylor.

“Ask the question again, baby,” you say.

“Are we there yet?”

“We are here,” you reply. “Come on let’s go have some fun.”

You all unload from the car. Nat refused to be a minivan family, so you settled for a three row suv. The Bartons come outside to help.

“Hi Nat,” Laura greets your wife. She hugs her tight. There’s only a handful of people in the world that Natasha trusts as much as she does Laura and Clint.

“And hi y/n,” she greets you as well.

You’re corralling the babies at the moment and can’t hug her, but the warm smile on her face feels like a hug.

“Go see Auntie Laura,” you say to Belle and Taylor, the two littlest girls.

The girls run to her and hug her tight. Ali is catching up with Lila while Ivan, Jack, and Cooper reconnect.

“Well, I guess it’s just us to unload,” Nat comments. She walks around to meet you at the back of the car.

“What’s new?” You joke.

“Hey, while we have a second alone,” Nat begins. She presses you against the back of the car, running her hands over your shoulders and arms down to your hands. “Thank you for coming. And I love you.”

“I love you too, Natasha,” you say, feeling your face flush from how close she is. You can smell her perfume and her fresh hair.

She’s so close to you that it hurts. You want to devour her.

“I’ll show you later just how much I love you, okay?” Her voice is low, sexy as it could be.

Nat leans in and steals a quick but deep kiss, leaving you wanting more.

You pout when she pulls away, but she just laughs. You’re too easy.

Later that day, Clint drives everyone out to the field where he’s got a new pig pin. The kids love chasing the pigs around and playing with them.

Natasha shares a look with you about an hour into the fun that tells you she wants to get back to the house and have her own type of fun with you.

“Clint, we’re going to head back,” she tells him.

“But Mama we’re having fun!” Belle says.

“They can stay out here with us. I know you two are exhausted from the drive in,” Laura says. She winks at you. Maybe you weren’t so slick earlier behind the car.

“Thanks Laur,” Natasha says. “Be good, babies.”

You both kiss each kid before you start walking back to the house with Natasha. You’re hand in hand as you walk through the field. You love seeing Nat like this. So free. So happy.

Your smile must reveal that to her. She stops and turns to you.

“What is it?” Nat asks.

“Hm?”

“You’re looking at me differently,” she replies.

“You’re so beautiful,” you say. “And you’re even more beautiful out here.”

Natasha kisses you softly. She is so in love.

“We better get back to the house before I take you right here in this field,” Nat says.

“What would be so wrong with that?” You say, surprised by your own boldness.

“Oh,” Nat remarks. “Did my wife, my sweet, sweet, innocent wife just say that she wants me to fuck her right here outside where anyone could see us?”

You know she can see the way she’s making you feel. An absolute puddle for her.

“Come on,” Nat says, grabbing your hand again and pulling towards the house again.

By the time you make it to the porch, you’re tripping over each other as you try to make out while walking.

“Upstairs now,” Nat says.

You move as fast you can into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you. Natasha pulls you to her and turns you to back you into the bed. You fall back a little harshly, but Natasha’s lips connecting with yours distracts you from the slight pain.

“Fuck,” you moan into her mouth.

Nat’s strong hands pull your shirt over your head. You barely have time to process it before you’re entirely naked underneath her.

“Are you going to be good for me?” Nat asks.

“Yes,” you say. She takes a nipple in her mouth while her fingers slip between your legs. “Fuck.”

“You’re so fucking hot,” Natasha says.

Her fingers enter you quickly. She swallows your moan with her kiss. You want her to be as undressed as you are. You reach for her shirt hem, but she pushes your hand away.

“Just you right now,” Natasha says. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you say.

Her fingers continue to pump in and out of you at a fast pace. You can feel yourself slipping into a blissful state.

“Natasha,” you mumble. It’s all you can say right now.

“I love you,” Natasha says. “Be a good girl and come for me.”

You let yourself come and come hard for your wife. It’s the best sex you’ve had in months, maybe years.

“That’s right, baby. You’re so good,” Nat says as she works you down. “So good for me.”

Natasha drops a kiss to your forehead and lies beside you. You come back to reality at the feeling of her hand circling yours.

“God, I have missed that,” you say.

Nat chuckles. She has too.

“Shower with me?” She asks.

“Gladly,” you agree.

Nat helps you out of bed and essentially carries you to the bathroom. You start the shower.

“May I?” You ask, gesturing to her clothes. You want to be the one to take them off.

“Please,” Nat says.

You lift her shirt over her head. It never ceases to amaze you how beautiful she is. You unclasp her bra and kiss her shoulder softly.

“Gorgeous,” you whisper, placing your head in the crook of her neck.

You move your hands down her abs and to her waist. Slipping your hands down the jeans she’s wearing, you find her dripping wet for you.

“Getting me off really turns you on, doesn’t it, sweetheart?” You ask her.

“Mhm,” she says. “But I’m in control here.”

Nat takes a step back and pulls her own pants down. She takes your hand and leads you into the shower.

“Why deny yourself, Nat? You know I’d kneel for you right here and now.” You ask her.

Natasha smirks. This was exactly her plan. To have you begging to make her feel good.

“Then kneel,” Natasha says after a long pause. She presses on your shoulders just enough to make you feel the pressure.

Grinning, you drop to your knees. You can’t even remember the last time you were in this position with her. God, you love farm Natasha.

“Right there, detka,” she says. “Yes.”

You hum in pleasure at the taste of her. You’re the luckiest person in the world to be here with her like this.

“Yes! Fuck, y/n, yes!” Natasha groans out. You can’t see her but you know she’s biting her lip. She’s close. It doesn’t take much longer for Natasha to be trembling at the feeling of your mouth all over her.

“I’m coming,” Nat says. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You help her ride her high and lick her until she’s pushing you away. You stand back up and she kisses you immediately.

Her tongue mingles with yours. The taste of her orgasm on your tongue turns her on even more.

“How long do we have?” She asks you.

“Not long I’d bet,” you say. “It’s almost dinner time.”

“I’ll make it quick,” Nat says.

She pushes you to the edge of the shower and you sit down, spreading your legs for her.

“All for me,” Natasha says. “Look at this.”

“All for you, Nat. Only you,” you reply.

She buries her face between your legs. You can’t help but lift your hips up at the feeling. Natasha holds your hips and helps you move them. Soon enough, you’re riding her face.

“Natasha,” you say over and over like it’s a prayer. “Natasha!”

You hold her head with one hand and keep yourself steady with the other. She eats you out like it’s the only place in the world she wants to be.

You come hard against her tongue. Nat moans successfully and pulls away to let you come down.

She grins at your blissed out face. She loves making you feel so good.

“I love you,” she says softly. It’s a sharp contrast to what you were just doing. “I hope you know how much I love you.”

“I do, baby,” you say, caressing her cheek. “I love you exactly the same.”

You kiss each other gently. Nat helps you stand back up and you actually shower. The water isn’t hot anymore, so you hurry up.

Once you get out, you get dressed and go downstairs. The family is just getting back from being outside. Perfect timing.

“Enjoy your alone time?” Laura asks.

“We sure did,” Natasha replies. She wraps an arm around your waist. You share a soft smile.

For the rest of the trip, you and Natasha soak up every moment with each other and with your family. It’s absolutely an amazing week.

[pedgito]

Hi Ali!! I love your writing and I was wondering if I can request dom Joel punishing you by riding his boot??

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

summary | joel doesn't like gifts, you gift him new boots. [3k]

pairing | joel miller x fem!reader

content warning | 18+ content, as always: no use of y/n, soft dom/sub dynamic, boot-riding, degradation kink, unprotected piv, one (1) face slap, porn with absolutely no plot.

author’s note | original working title for this was new boot goofin' because i can't take myself seriously, idk what this is but enjoy. kel (@beskarandblasters) suggested the actual title for this so thank you babe ♡

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Three things about Joel you were intensely sure of—he was a strong lover. He loved hard and he cared even harder, always willing to put your needs before his own, even to an unhealthy degree in some cases. Two, he liked to be in charge. With his willingness to put you before him, it also lended him to enjoy the role of being dominant in the right situations. He kept a lot of himself locked up around everyone but you. Through the few years you two have become close and started this relationship—if you could call it that—there’s a solid understanding of each other’s needs. He provides the domineering nature you crave and you subdued yourself to him willingly when he puts the facade on.

At first, it never left the bedroom. You both enjoyed the disguise of the dynamics to make things flow easier, not allow things to stall out so quickly and you had all the proper safety precautions in place to allow you both the happiness you seeked out. But, as most things in your life, they seeped through the cracks and bled out, intermingling with the rest of your daily life.

Sometimes it was just a look when you’d say something in public that was indecent or a comment that made Joel’s face go hot, knowing that despite his openness in public, he was still a very private man. He reserved that side for you and only you. And he did so much for you—not just around Jackson, but in your own home. With him being the lead guy for patrols and having such a…special relationship with him, it lended for more leniency when you weren’t feeling great or needed a break from the hectic energy that patrolling liked to suffocate people with, always on the brink of danger. And Joel was always too handy for his own good—always finding a reason to fix up a broken something in your own small house on the outskirts of Jackson. 

Broken pipe? Fixed. Chair broken? Joel could shape you out a new one in a couple weeks.

Last week he had repainted then entirety of your kitchen cabinets because he thought they were looking a little dull—as if they weren’t run down from years of abandonment and like this wasn’t the fucking apocalypse. Despite that, you felt the urge to thank Joel. And not just thank him.

Properly. With a gift.

But—oh. Third thing, Joel hated gifts.

Despised them.

But, you weren’t always the best listener or rule follower.

A patrol with Tommy had you both scheming up an idea when you bring up the option of gifting something to Joel as a proper offering of appreciation, his hand resting loosely on the rifle slung around his chest, fingers tapping against the butt. 

“Well—you know, there’s a clothing store a few miles east,” Tommy tells you, “Ellie and I found it when we cleared out that hoard a few months back—lotsa clothes and shoes, mostly untouched. We could check that out? I need to grab a few things myself anyways.”

You nod easily, “Yeah—that pair he has is falling apart. It drives me insane.”

“Joel doesn’t like to let go of things easily,” Tommy comments broadly, “He’ll make do with what he’s got until it falls apart.”

“Well, he doesn’t take no for an answer when I tell him to stop helpin’ me so he’s gonna have to suck it up just this once.” You smile slightly, earning a soft chuckle from Tommy.

You hoped it would go over well—because Joel did need new boots and there was little harm in an innocent gift…right?

–

Joel is brimming with an energy that only accompanied him after long patrols, the ones that lasted a few days and kept him away. Away from his home, away from you. He doesn’t even attempt the trek toward his own house, rather taking the first right and beelining for your small house at the end of the neighborhood, squeezing his leather covered hands into fists.

He’s anxious, pent up—not with anger or rage, but just a need to release some built up stress. Fortunately, he knew the perfect way to do that. His boots squeak against the hardwood of your front deck, the tattered rubber around the toe of his boot hanging on by a thread as he kicks it gently into the base of the door softly, idle as he busies his mind and prays that you’re still awake.

You’ve been waiting for him all day, his gift hidden away safely as you yank the door open excitedly, nearly tripping over your own pair of haphazardly thrown shoes on the floor.

Joel lets out a soft oof as he catches you, chuckling at your bright and beaming smile.

“Someone’s excited,” Joel chides playfully, though his voice is gruff. He sounds tired, looks it too, “been missin’ me, baby?”

You nod immediately, “So much,” You press a gentle kiss to his lips as he kicks the front door closed with his foot, slowly removing his layers—thick coat falling first, then his thinner jacket he wore underneath to leave him in a thick thermal, his skin still prickling with the winter chill but quickly warming underneath your touch, “everything go okay?”

“Yeah—just a bad storm comin’ in,” Joel explains, ignoring how distracted you were, allowing the soft pecks to his skin as you pulled away, slowly inserting yourself into his line of sight, mischievous grin plastered across your face, “—what are you up to, darlin’?

“Got a surprise for you,” You tease playfully, feeling his thick, calloused fingers slip under the thin material of your shirt, subconsciously seeking some contact with you, “can you go sit on the couch and close your eyes?”

Joel didn’t take too well to surprises, but he trusts you. So, he nods quietly, though there’s a slight hesitance to him as he takes a seat on the couch, slowly unlacing his boots in your absence to relieve some pressure but not taking them off completely, the tongue of the boot hanging lifelessly over his even more pathetic looking laces.

He can hear your soft footsteps as they approach, bare feet against the wood flooring as the couch dips slightly and he feels something hard and solid pressed into his hands.

“Okay, open ‘em,” You tell him gently, watching as he blinks his eyes open, expression mostly unchanging—it wasn’t unlike him to have little reaction, but it did worry you slightly, “—surprise?”

Okay, terrible idea. Got it.

“Darlin’,” God, you’ve heard that tone before, body tensing slightly, “I thought I told you I don’t need nothin’ in return from you.”

“Joel—you’re constantly helping me,” You argue softly, “it’s the least I could do. Plus, you need a new pair.”

“That’s not the point,” Joel tells you, “I do that stuff ‘cause I like knowin’ you’re comfortable, that you don’t have anything to worry about while I’m away.”

“And I worry about you too,” You interject quickly, “Joel—it’s just a gift, it’s okay.”

Joel places them on the table in front of him silently, contemplating thoughtfully.

He’s made it clear on several occasions that he doesn’t like things in return. That he does these things without the expectation of anything in return, but he appreciates the gesture. Joel isn’t used to people caring for him and it feels odd to allow it. And he sees the nervous energy inside of you brimming, like you’ve made a bad choice and you deserve the punishment.

 Almost begged for it. 

Your fists curl nervously in your lap, waiting for any sign that Joel had to offer.

And when he doesn’t respond, you find yourself curling into him out of instinct. Thighs spreading out over his lap as his hands follow the trail from your knees, up your thighs, until his thumbs are settling in the crease of your pelvis. You attempt a gentle kiss, but he’s reluctant to return it.

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask quietly, a genuine curiosity in your voice.

Joel shakes his head slightly, but the hand guiding its way around your neck tells a different story, his fingertips rubbing against the softness of your jawline, forcing you to look at him properly.

“Nothin’ wrong, but I do think I need to remind you of somethin’,” Joel explains in a soft, but demeaning tone, “that when I tell you I can provide for you and don’t need anything in return—that I mean that.”

You wait with baited breath, blinking rapidly at how hot his breath feels against your skin, feeling your cunt throb with need, with an insatiable want for him.

“And since you wanna buy me a new pair of boots—well,” Joel chuckles darkly, feeling your fingers tighten into the thick fabric of his thermal, “you’re gonna have to help me break ‘em in.”

You look at him, perplexed. But, his pupils dilate under your gaze, the subtle shifting as he kicks off his old, tattered boots as nods subtly to the new pair behind you.

You sigh breathily, “Huh—Oh, you want me to—”

“Ride my boot, baby,” He tells you clearly, “Seein’ as it is my gift and all.”

There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation as you slipped from his lap, table skidding back deftly in the process—you grab for the new pair of work boots but Joel is quickly grabbing your face again, squeezing your cheeks sharply.

“Undress first.” Joel says, waiting for your nod of acknowledgement before he lets you go.

So, you do—layer by layer until you reach your bra, unhooking it with nimble fingers as he slips on his new boots. If this were anyone else, you would feel ridiculous. But, with Joel, there was something there, brewing on the surface. He respected you, but he also needed you to understand.

It was a little humiliating, but it wasn’t the worst thing.

Your fingers edge along the hem of your underwear when Joel stops your hands, “Keep those on.” He utters, his fingers dragging softly against the front of the cotton material until he’s cupping your pussy in his palm, soft wet spot growing in the fabric where his fingertips drag across—you’re enjoying this, clearly.

You lower yourself slowly, straddling his left leg with your knees tucked against the bottom of the couch he sat on, pressing your cunt against the cold leather of his steel-toed boot.

Joel relaxes then, arms spread wide over the back of the couch, fingers gripping loosely into the cushion. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart.” Joel comforts, sensing your brimming nervousness as your fingers trailed along his calf, the hard press of his boot right against your core and if you tried hard enough, it wouldn’t take long at all—knowing that even just a little bit of encouragement from Joel and friction could have you coming undone. But, he wants you to work for it.

You start slow, a subtle grind of your hips that shouldn’t feel as good as it does. You sigh softly at the relief, noticing the slowly growing smirk on Joel’s face that you’re trying to avoid, eyes falling shut slowly as you tip your head back, allowing a slow rhythm to start.

“Feels good?” Joel wonders, “Like the idea of me carryin’ somethin’ of you around with me?”

In more ways than one—by a simple gift from the kindness of your heart, but also the desperation of the slick that damped your underwear and painted a perfect mess over his boot.

You nod quietly, moaning softly as you angle your hips to allow the drag of your clit over the solidness of the boot, friction sending your eyes rolling back in your head, hands fisting into the thick denim and selfishly using it for leverage as you quickened your pace. 

“That’s right, baby—want you to think about coming all over my boot for me,” Joel encourages, “can you do that?”

Truthfully, you were holding back. Seeing just how much you could get out of him.

But, Joel catches onto your game.

“You need a little encouragement?” Joel asks curiously, chin cupped in his strong grip, nodding obediently. “Think you deserve that, baby?”

“Please—please, Joel.” You beg, “Fuck—please, I’ll do—”

“Don’t say anything, darlin’.” He warns, “Not when you don’t know what that means for you.”

He keeps your eyes locked on his, squeezing your cheeks gently when you start to fade, the slowly building tingle in your core that wasn’t as easily ignorable now, coiled in your belly and ready to explode. You lose yourself for a brief second, hand fisting into the slack bunch of denim atop his thigh, earning a dull but stern slap to your cheek to bring your attention back to him.

“Eyes on me, baby,” Joel coos, fisting the hard line of his cock under the strained denim with his free hand, looking slightly pained at how much he was holding back himself, “look at you—always eager to please, huh?”

You roll your eyes slightly—and Joel really doesn’t like that. His hand cradling the base of your neck as he holds you still, body pulled just centimeters away from his boot, leaving your pussy throbbing with a lack of contact that your body craved.

“Now you just look a little pathetic, don’t you?” Joel asks, “All needy for my fuckin’ boot—got her beggin’ for it, don’t I?” And you know he’s not addressing you directly, rather the pool of your own slick, shiny wetness on the toe of his boot that gives you away.

 He nudges it against your clit gently, earning a soft whine as you hips instinctively seek for friction—Joel takes a slightly more firmer stance, head cradling both of his hands as he holds you prisoner in his gaze, two thick fingers slipping into your open mouth and grinning at how pathetically and greedily you suck on the digits without having to be told, removing them with a loud pop and a thin string of spit that connects you to him.

And if he was a stronger man, he could hold off. But, he’s so weak around you he can’t even hide it. He lets go in an instant, reaching for the front of his own jeans as he shoves them down his hips until he can manage to slip his cock out over his underwear, fisting himself in an instant.

Staving himself on patrols was torture when all he could think about was you—so he knows it won’t take much. Hell, he’s surprised with how long he’s been able to hold off now.

You admire with a haughty gaze, slowly resting back against the base of his boot, watching his free hand slip under his heavy sack, massaging as he jerks his fist without much rhythm, blinded by his own selfish need for release.

“Keep goin’,” He encourages through a tight breath, “but don’t fuckin’ come, darlin’.”

Your hole clenches and flutters around nothing, wishing that it was his cock stuffed inside of you rather than the plane of his boot pressed against your pussy, the thickness of his fingers alongside the girthiness of his cock a blatant reminder of how deeply you felt him in the mornings and even days after, always fucked so throughly it had you reeling and constantly crawling back for more.

He jerks himself selfishly, eyes falling shut as he feels himself dragging too close to the edge, your moans gaining in intensity, knowing how pathetic you would both look to anyone else. But, there was no one to judge you here—and Joel was beyond feeling the need to be assertive, rather just needing you, to be inside you and have you snug around him and crying on his cock.

Joel pulls you out of your daze hastily, manhandling you until you’re back is flat against the couch, quickly shoving his jeans down far enough that they don’t become a hindrance as he pulls your underwear aside and slips inside of you with a solid push of his hips, the slickness of your cunt allowing no resistance as you both groan at how good it feels, eyes connecting for a brief moment before everything goes black…or white. 

Joel isn’t sure what he sees, but it only takes a few minutes of some hurried and desperate pumps of his hips as his cock nudges that particular spot deep inside of you that has you clawing at the bare skin you could reach, leaving red marks on his neck as he snaps his hips with a finality, coming with a low groan that has your legs shaking, bent nearly in half as he still manages to see through his own haze and drag his fingers over your clit—it doesn’t take more than a couple seconds before you're there, spasming around his cock with a sob, gasping at his overstimulating touch as he continues to press and circle your clit until you’re begging him to stop, his hips slowly pumping his cum inside of you.

Joel finds himself laying slack against you, pants down at his ankles as he allows your fingers to thread through his grown out curls from where his head rests against your chest, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart.

“I appreciate the boots,” He says after a while, “if that wasn’t already obvious.”

“Oh, I’m aware.” You giggle softly.

“Seriously, no more gifts, though.” Joel says sternly, “I mean it.”

You pout slightly and Joel catches it, his eyes flicking up to look at you.

“I’m makin’ no promises to that.” You tell him truthfully.

Joel chuckles softly, “Can’t say I expected you to, either.”