#and i am riding to her defense

[fahbev]

You know, I started reading Red Robin, and since I’ve distanced myself from fandom stuff, I’ve started to really, genuinely like Tim Dra—

— NEVERMIND I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!!

[gatitoguao]

AITA for forgetting my gf's biggest fear?

For some context, a while back we had gone to this sort of park and a man there had a pet wolf and my gf (40 yo) kinda freaked out and had asked me not to bring her around wolves bc she was scared of them.

Fast forward to a couple of weeks later, we're at this monastery one of our friends recommended but I didn't know one of the ones in charge had two huge wolves and I (230 yo) had forgotten that my gf was deathly afraid of them and now she won't talk to me

TLDR: aita for forgetting that my gf is scared of wolves and for bringing her around them unintentionally?

[evermorecountsastherapy]

y'all I just gave a (somewhat) random woman a ride across the city. on my own. free of charge. and didn't even think of any potential consequences. what the heckin heck

[42internetgirl]

boat ride — rafe cameron

summary: rafe making it up to you after arguing over his ex-girlfriend sofia.

warnings/notes: fluff, pogue reader but it's not like a big part of the plot, soft!rafe. genuinely think this might be the first time i’ve written something that isn’t sexual/suggestive for rafe 😭 i need help. but i’m trying to write more fluff for him :) if you have any requests please send them! <33 love u all sm. also thanks to @starkeysprincess, my baby, for giving me the idea of a cute boat date that inspired this idea in my head !!!! <3333

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

“i just don’t get why you still need her in your phone, and why she still stays texting your phone!” you get defensive while sat in your boyfriend passenger seat. this was the second time you’d gotten in an argument over his ex-girlfriend, sofia. you trusted rafe, if you didn’t you wouldn’t be with him, but the thing was that; you didn’t trust her. her little texts asking rafe ‘how he was’ or ‘if he was busy and wanted to come over', you’d had enough.

“really? you’re going to genuinely get upset over this?”, rafe scoffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. part of him thought it was funny, only because the thought of you thinking that he wanted anyone else was humorous to him. he literally wanted to marry you, and some random ex-girlfriend in his phone was the last thing on his mind.

“yes rafe,” your eyes widened, waiting for him to say something. “yes i am.”

“s’fuckin’ stupid.” his right hand gripped the wheel, pissed off that you were so upset about his ex still being in his phone despite him always shutting her down. the thing that made you so upset about the whole situation was the fact that he let her down in the nicest ways possible. 'sorry, can't make it. maybe another time." sorry? what the fuck was he sorry for? maybe another time? does he want to see her?

“take me home.” you give up. you couldn’t be bothered to argue with him over this right now. your point always went straight over his head.

“are you serious?”

“does it look like i’m joking?” you pretend to scavenge for something in your purse, embarrassed that this was the second time you had to bring up this issue with rafe. did he not love you enough to just listen to you and block her?

rafe didn’t say anything, but instead put his truck in drive and made his way to your house, it was a silent 10 minutes.

your argument with rafe was long gone, you didn’t bring it up and neither did he. the ignorance was bliss for you, you liked to hope that after dropping you off at home and watching you silently tear up in his truck that night, that maybe he went home and blocked sofia.

you knew that wasn’t what went down, but the thought of anything else happening made you sick. so, you figured never bringing it up again would be more beneficial, even though you wanted to so badly.

“wanna go for a boat ride?” rafe let his phone fall to his chest and let out a yawn, both his hands making their way up your thighs that were rested on his legs. you two had tanneyhill all to yourselves, and sitting on the living room couch both occupied in your own tiktok for you pages was how you’d spent your time so far.

“sure,” you reply softly. one thing you loved about dating a rich kook was getting to ‘casually’ take a boat ride.

“cmon.” rafe pulled you out of your slumped position on the couch. "gotta surprise for you."

you smiled at him, wondering what the surprise could be. rafe wasn't always the best with surprises and such, but the bug smile on his made you think that maybe this time it would be different. his eagerness reminded you of a little boy on christmas.

"after you ma'lady," rafe chuckled and put his arm out, signaling for you to make your way out to the dock before him. he followed after you, "close your eyes." he took both hands and wrapped them around your face, covering your eyes.

"rafe!" you giggle. almost losing your balance, your grip onto his big arms, feeling safe when they're wrapped around you.

"hey! no peeking."

"i cant! with your big ass hands in my face!" the huge grin on your voice could be heard just through your voice.

"m'kay, ready?" rafe gets closer to you, his chest pressed up against back, he leaves a kiss on your ear.

"yes!" you couldn't contain your excitement anymore, you needed to know what your boyfriend had planned for you.

rafe dropped his hands from your eyes, but you kept one arm wrapped around his, not wanting to let go of him.

you were speechless. the string lights set up perfectly, complimenting the pink and blue sky, the wicker basket filled with all your favorite snacks, the white blanket laid across the floor of the boat, the pink and red (your favorite colors) colored gift boxes set up neatly, just waiting for you to open them.

no one had ever done anything like this for you before, tears welt up in your eyes, you buried yourself in rafe's chest, leaving a few tear stains on his grey t-shirt.

"i love you baby," rafe gave you a quick peck on the head. your tears and reaction almost getting a reaction out of him. seeing you with the biggest grin on your face had rafe literally doing cartwheels in his head. he swore he'd never love someone as much as he loved you, but there he was, spending all his money and time trying to make you happy.

"all this for me rafey?" you looked up at him with teary eyes. puckering your lips, waiting for him to give you a kiss, he does of course.

"well who else would it be for?"

rafe's ego would never let himself admit that this was all because he felt bad for arguing over his ex-girlfriend, but you knew it was. rafe had a soft spot for you and you loved it.

"i love you rafe."

[inkskinned]

yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."

i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.

the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.

mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.

later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.

sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.

but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.

i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.

every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.

wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?

the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:

he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.

every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.

mahler's fifth still makes me sick.

give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.

give me back what you took from me.

[vilesbian]

My downstairs neighbor and my next door neighbor are screaming at each other over the buildings dryer.

Then she texts me and asks me to knock on his door because she can't come up the stairs (the third floor stairs are fucking steep) and like no I'm not going to do that or respond to you when you're screaming like that. Don't involve me in this narrative.

[sixx-sixx-sixx]

LADY BRIDGERTON - Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader (smut)

Summary: Reader has been married to Anthony Bridgerton for too long, it feels, although it has only been a few years. In that short time, not only has he only touched her naked body once, but he comes home most nights smelling of sweat and another woman’s perfume. Lady Whistledown has caught wind of this, and the gossip sends Lady Bridgerton over the edge. Anthony takes the time to give his wife exactly what she’s asking for.

Warnings: smut; badly written smut lol; infidelity; arguments about infidelity; possibly out of character anthony; I’ve only watched season 1 of Bridgerton; breeding kink; unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it but this is a married couple); female reader/use of she/her pronouns; as always, proofread to the best of my ability

“Do you wish to make a fool of me?” Anthony leaned down to whisper in his young wife’s ear, a firm hand grabbing her elbow as he interrupted her conversation with a young man from Russia, or Hungary. He didn’t pay much mind to the boy so much as the woman who bore his last name, fully aware of the way she had been subtly flirting with many men that night. Taking count of the glasses of bubbles she had — she was nursing her fourth flute, Anthony had decided it was enough.

Don’t make a scene.

Lady Bridgerton felt an intense urge to strike her husband across his cheek, how dare he accuse her of making a fool out of him. All evening she had overheard whispers of Anthony’s name from nasty gossipers. The young Bridgertons had been the central characters in the latest edition of Lady Whistledown. Rumor has it that Lord Bridgerton had continued an affair with a certain singer, without bothering to hide it from his young wife. Even worse? Lady Bridgerton knew, as they all knew, and never seemed to let the truth affect how she presented herself to those around her.

“Would you like me to answer that truthfully, my dear husband?” She turned her gaze towards him, her eyes alight with a burning fury towards the unfaithful man she had devoted her life to. She jerked her arm away from his grip and started to lift the glass to her painted lips. Anthony grabbed the dainty piece of glass and shook his head, “I think you’ve had enough. It’s time for you to go home.”

A bitter laugh escaped her mouth before she could stop it, as a few heads turned to observe the titular couple. “If that is your wish, Mr. Bridgerton.” She turned on her heel and started to make her way out to the cold air, cursing herself for leaving her coat in the carriage. She didn’t even bother to wait for her husband to catch up as she informed the valet they would be leaving.

The carriage ride to the estate wasn’t anything special. She would sit and seethe in silence during the ride, her eyes burning a hole through Anthony’s forehead as he sat across from her. The argument began once the couple was behind the safety of their bedroom door, standing in front of each other with defenses up. “We have been married for two years, Anthony! Two years and the only time you have touched me was on our wedding night. Yet every night you come home, to OUR bed, smelling like some whore’s perfume! I am left to listen to the ton gossip about MY empty bed!” She nearly hissed the words to punctuate her accusations. Anthony had never seen such an outburst from the young woman, she had never spoken to him like that before. She was standing before him, the drinks she had at the ball fueling her anger and simultaneously allowing the anger to sober her head.

“I know that I wasn’t who you wanted to marry, I understand that this was just a beneficial arrangement for you. But I expect that as the woman who now holds your family name, who will one day bear your children, that you could at the very least respect me!” She was angry that he had just stood there and watched her yell, but at the same time, she wouldn’t let him get a word in.

“You cannot expect me to be a dutiful wife and lady if you refuse to grant me at least the tiniest shred of dignity. You, sir, make a fool of yourself, I am merely seeking that same kind of attention you seek from Siena.” Her voice dripped with sickly sweet venom as she spat the woman’s name.

Anthony allowed the woman to speak her mind on his infidelity, finally admitting to himself that he had been unfair to her. He frequently came into their room in the middle of the night when he expected the woman to be asleep. In the beginning of the marriage, he had at least tried to hide the evidence, changing his clothes before he climbed under the blankets next to her. Now, she was accustomed to him laying down beside her without even taking off the shirt that was stained with Siena’s stage makeup and that reeked of her pungent perfume.

“I do not understand, Anthony. I can come to terms with a loveless marriage, but I am so exhausted by knowing you’re giving her that kind of attention, and I have remained loyal to you despite the obvious signs of your affair-“ her rant was abruptly cut short when Anthony floated over to her, his hands gripping her cheeks with fervor as he crashed his lips to hers. Taking only a moment to stand in shock, she pressed her lips back against his, her hand reaching to grip onto the front of his overcoat. Desperately reaching for more, trying to edge him closer to their bed but ultimately allowing him full control over her mind, body and soul. She let out a disappointed whimper when his lips parted from hers, his face inches from her own.

“What is it that you want from me, woman? You wish for me to touch you the way I touch her? Or do you believe my hands to be too stained?” She hated how close his lips were, desperately trying to reach forward as he spoke his mind. She didn’t really care how improper the words sounded as they came from his mouth, because she DID want him to touch her- not just touch, she wanted him to fuck her the way he fucked his mistress.

She took a moment to find her words, not expecting her confrontation to lead to this moment. “Anthony, I am your wife. All I want is for you to- to fuck me the way a husband fucks his wife.”

Understanding that he had a year’s worth of missing passion to make up for, and seeing that deep down he had no other choice than to obey the woman before him, he easily obliged. In this moment, Siena didn’t exist to him. He was purely focused on making sure his duties as a husband were thoroughly taken care of. Tonight, he would go to sleep smelling of his wife’s soft scent, making sure to cover the woman in marks of his affection.

Little time was wasted in getting their clothes off. A mess of hands clashing together to try and undo buttons and layers and loops, the couple grasping at each other as though they were desperate for the other as a life source.

Anthony paused for a moment to admire his lady’s body in the soft candlelight, letting his hands first run over the delectable curve of her hips, trailing up her sides before settling on her supple breasts.

“I’m sorry that I have spent so long torturing you, making you only imagine my hands touching you like this. I promise, my lady, I will do a much better job at attending to whatever it is you wish from me.” Anthony promised as his eyes stayed locked with hers. Her pupils were blown wide, and he realized he didn’t even know what color her irises were meant to be. He told himself he’d be a better husband to her after this, wanting to ensure her place in society as his wife. He’d fuck her full of his seed tonight, and every night after that, to make sure that Lady Whistledown could never accuse him of neglecting his wife’s desires again.

“Please, my lord, please--“ Lady Bridgerton sounded deliciously desperate, and it excited Anthony in a way that he had never experienced in his years-long affairs with Siena. It spurred him to plunge his cock deeper into his wife, his hand pushing her thigh down to her shoulder as he positioned her to angle himself deeper. She would probably think about the pressure against her cervix for the rest of her life, praying to God that she’d be able to experience this side of her husband for the rest of their lives together.

“What is it that you want, Lady Bridgerton? Tell me with words, my love, I want to hear you say it.” In this close position he could make sure she could look into his eyes to see he was genuine in this moment.

She was surprised at his stamina and determination tonight, focused more on her body than chasing his own release. A complete contrast to their wedding night, she felt like he treated the consummation as a chore. This was a much, much better experience. She had lost count of the times he had made her cum tonight, and the ways he had coaxed her orgasms from her.

“Anthony- Christ! Please don’t stop, want you to fuck me full til i’m round with your child-“ her voice was ragged and on the verge of giving out after not holding back a single sound. She didn’t care how pathetic she sounded begging for what seemed like the bare minimum from her husband.

Anthony leaned down to capture her lips in a messy kiss, reaching down to grab her hand that was tangled in the sheets beneath her. He caught any noises that escaped her, the sounds muffled against his own mouth, moving to hold her hand above her head. She clutched at his hand and whimpered his name as his hips stilled after a few sloppy thrusts, thick ropes coating her walls.

Anthony stayed put for a moment so as to not waste a drop, pulling his lips from hers before ghosting them over the hammering pulse in her neck. He gently maneuvered her pliable body into a resting position, slowly pulling himself from her and getting up from the bed.

After he had gently cleaned up the mess he had made of the woman, Anthony peppered soft kisses over her stomach as he made his way up to lay down next to her. She instantly curled into his chest and closed her eyes, taking her time in coming down from the cloud she was on. She could feel his fingers gently combing through her mussed hair, the sensation slowly bringing her back to earth.

“Are you alright, Lady Bridgerton?” Anthony spoke softly to not spook her, his arms locked safely around her keeping her pressed to his body. Her lips quirked into a smile and he took notice of the way her cheek dimpled, his thumb moving to stroke over the small impression.

“I am absolutely content, Lord Bridgerton.” She opened her eyes to look up at her husband’s face. Anthony smiled as he kissed her again, a kiss so tender that nearly brought tears to her eyes.

“I may not be the perfect husband, but I vow to do better by you. I will end things with Siena and tend to the parts of you that I’ve been neglectful of.” Anthony made a promise to her after he had pulled away. His wife reached up to grab his hand in hers, moving it to press a gentle kiss to his knuckles before she spoke.

“You can use all of the sweet words that you want, you’ll still have to prove yourself with actions.” She squeezed his hand gently, “But I think this has been good start.”

[starry-hughes]

blurring the lines

matt rempe x reader

navigation

summary: after meeting matt in a bar and hooking up, the one night stand turns into something much more.

warnings: heavy allusions to sex, underage drinking, drinking, hangover, slight angst (it lasts like two seconds), mentions throwing up once, matt is a cocky bitch for a little, creepy guy mention

The vodka redbull in your hand wasn’t strong enough. Maybe it was because the bartender secretly knew your ID was fake. Or maybe it was your friend, Wendy, hanging off the neck of a random guy in the bar like always. You were always happy to support her in the search of a nightly hook up but sometimes you wish you were her, the one chosen by the guys in the bar.

“You look like you’re having fun.”

Matt Rempe filled the space next to you at the bar. He wasn’t twenty one yet but his status in New York City with the Rangers was all he needed for the bartender to hand him a beer. “Tons of fun,” you mumbled taking another sip of your drink.

“I’m Matt.”

You almost scoffed. You were a longtime resident of NYC. You knew who he was the second you saw him and his fading black eye. “Matt Rempe. Yeah, I know. 6’7 right?” Your roommates loved the Rangers games so you had been subjected to watch the whole season. Matt smirked. “Usually the height alone gets people flaunting.”

An audible scoff left your mouth that time. “Oh am I not living up to what your ego needs?” Matt’s jaw locked. He was falling for you more each second. “Lovely meeting you Matt,” you finished your drink, “have a good night.”

The guy Wendy was hanging off of followed the two of you to the next bar. Typically, that meant the guy would go home with her. Another drink in and the buzz was good enough for you, you tried staying pretty sober when Wendy was drinking and flirting with unfamiliar guys. “I’m going to the bathroom,” you told her. She nodded before going back to kissing her new companion.

The line for the bathroom was long. The typical line of drunk girls, vape smoke filling the air, guys trying to shoot their shots when girls were just trying to pee. When you finally got out of the line, your hands felt sticky from the cheap soap and you went to make your way back to the bar.

It was crowded. You were bumping into multiple bodies, fighting your way up to the bar. You lost sight of Wendy, probably still in the darkened corner of the bar with the guy she was dragging along. “You here alone?” The guy’s voice made the hair on your neck stand. Slurring his words and trying to reach out to get a hand on you. “You better back off,” you started, getting defensive, ready to throw a punch. “Calm down Rocky,” a voice mumbled from behind you, Matt Rempe’s tall body was soon separating you and the random dude. “You should leave her alone dude,” Matt said over his shoulder to the guy.

“Are you following me?” you accused. “We’re both at the most crowded bar on this street, I was not following you. Are you okay?” Matt asked. Your eyes softened for a second. “Oh, yeah, nothing out of the normal I guess.” He frowned. “I hate that for you.” Matt was growing on you by the second.

You hated admitting that you didn’t want the night to end. “I don’t need you to protect me anymore,” you teased Matt. He leaned on the bar, looking at you, face inches away, “Then tell me to walk away.” Your eyes flickered down to his lips.

It felt exciting but scary as you dragged Matt behind you by the hand. Once you found Wendy, you quickly told her you were leaving for the night and wanted to make sure she got home. The Uber ride was weird, Wendy and the guy she was bringing home making out while Matt and you softly bumped knees the whole drive.

“Sorry it’s a mess,” he was a little red in the face from embarrassment. It was typical for him, it wasn’t even that messy. “It’s okay,” you swallowed. The nerves were setting in. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” he stuttered. “Shut up and kiss me Matt.”

You were shivering. You didn’t know if it was from the fact that Matt kept his room freezing cold or because he just had you shaking beneath him. The sound of his headboard hitting the wall was still echoing in your ears. “Do you want to take a shower?” Matt asked, kissing your bare shoulder. “I don’t have any clothes.” “Just borrow mine?”

The shower was hot and warm. Matt had given you a pair of boxers for a shirt and a sweater. You were drowning in his clothes. “Hope the boxers are okay,” he said nervously after you exited the bathroom. The sweater he gave you was pretty big on you, the boxers had to be rolled up a couple of times. He was wearing sweats that hung off his hips a little. “It’s good.” “I can sleep on the couch if you want me to,” he said. “No, I’m okay with sharing the bed.” Within minutes, the two of you were knocked out and asleep.

In the morning, you forgot where you were for a second. Your eyes fluttering open. This definitely was not your bedroom. Then you saw Matt and the memories came flooding back. His alarm was going off. He woke up, scrambling for his phone. “Sorry,” he mumbled into his pillow, “got practice in two hours.”

Silently, you got dressed in the clothes from the night before. Matt watched from his pillow as you got dressed, he just wanted to remember every curve of your body. “Hey Matt,” you cleared your throat, “this is really out of the ordinary for me. I don’t normally just have one night stands.” His face showed relief. “I don’t either. To be honest, this was my first one.” The two of you laughed at the situation. “I would love to see you again. Don’t be a stranger,” he kissed you softly as he walked you to the door and placed you into an uber. Your phone felt a little heavier with his number in it.

The one night stand turned into multiple nights. Most of them ending in the two of you talking and getting to know each other as Matt performed after care. It was weird, but a good weird. Friends with benefits. “Why don’t we ever go to your place?” Matt hummed. “My roommates.”

The next night you brought Matt to your place. Your roommates had told you they’d be gone for the night. You didn’t bother holding back noises and Matt didn’t either. By the morning, your roommates were awake and leaned over cups of coffee in the kitchen, all tired from hearing the noises from your room for hours after they arrived home. “Bye Matt,” you squeaked as you walked him to the door and he awkwardly avoided eye contact with your roommates. “I’m sorry. Was that Matt Rempe?” The jaw of your roommate fell open.

The friends with benefits relationship took a turn when Matt invited you over for dinner. “I don’t really know how to cook?” he admitted. “You invited me for dinner and don’t know how to cook?” “I didn’t think I’d get this far!” His laugh filled the kitchen and your heart skipped a beat. His head leaned down, “I think I really like you.” His lips met yours and you didn’t hesitate to kiss back.

It was a routine. Waking up in bed with Matt, his alarm going off for practice, having what you were 99.9% sure were dates. When he was traveling, you would use your spare key to his place to water his plants. Plus the sex was good. “I need a date,” you caught his lips with yours. He hummed, “I’m going to Toronto in a couple of days.” You already knew that. You had memorized his schedule. “My friend is having a dinner party tonight.”

“I have a game,” he whined. “I would love to come but I can’t.” You frowned. You knew he had a game but for some reason, you were hopeful he would still be able to make it. It was almost like this was the moment of clarity. Matt wasn’t your boyfriend. This wasn’t a real relationship. There weren’t labels on this. You two weren’t exclusive. He had no reason or obligation to show up to your events just because you asked. “I should get going,” you swallowed hard. His blanket was wrapped around your body as you sat up. “(Y/N). Don’t be like that.”

“I have to go Matt.” You gathered your clothes from the night before, getting dressed as Matt searched for his own sweatpants. “Let me walk you down.” You shook your head. “I think I want to walk out alone.”

It was a slap in the face. Realizing that you and Matt weren’t really together. This started as a hook up. You were attached now. You fell in love with waking up next to him, smiling at the tv when your roommates forced you to watch his games, having half dates which were mainly eating dinner before he took you to bed.

The Rangers game drowned on in the background of the dinner party. It wasn’t a formal dinner party, more of a potluck with cheap food and booze. “Thought you were bringing someone,” your friend slid in beside you as you made yourself another drink. “Yeah,” you swallowed, eyes falling on the tv, “he’s busy tonight.” The Rangers lost.

Matt was pissed by the end of the night. His texts weren’t being responded to. You weren’t answering. By the time the game ended and he was out of Madison Square Garden, your heavy hand had poured way too much into each of your drinks. It was crowded in your apartment. The food was picked over and theoretically the party should have been winding down but it wasn’t. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, Matt was calling. “I should take this,” you hiccuped, accidentally standing too fast and toppling over the Drunk Jenga your friends were playing.

“Hello?” Your words were slurring together. “Are you drunk?” Matt immediately questioned. Another hiccup. “Why do you care if I am? You’re not my boyfriend.”

The words stung him. He really did like you. He wanted to be your boyfriend. It was just that every time he wanted to ask you, he chickened out. “Are you at your apartment?” he inquired. “Yeah.” Your voice was annoyed, he was pissing you off. Matt’s long legs helped with the power walk to your apartment. He snuck into the building behind some people who were leaving. He knew his way around.

The apartment door was unlocked but he didn’t want to just walk in. Knocking, he prayed someone would hear him. “Hello,” your roommate sang as she opened the door. “Oh,” she was taken aback. “Um, (Y/N)!” she shouted. Within seconds, a commotion was heard, laughter as you stumbled to the door. Your mouth ran dry. “Matt.”

“Can we talk?” his voice boomed in your ears. He didn’t wait for a response, he pulled you along to your bedroom, ignoring the looks from your roommates and friends watching. “Why are you here?” He sat you on the bed, looking for your typical water bottle you kept in there. “I like you. A lot. You got really cold this morning. I know I’m not your boyfriend but I really want to be. But you’re drunk right now and it’s not right for me to ask you now.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “You like me?” He sighed and nodded, “I like you. A lot.”

When the sun poured into the bedroom, you were in your bed, in pajamas now, head pounding and feeling the urge to throw up. Matt was next to you. He felt miles away though. He was still asleep when you stumbled out of bed and went to throw up from the amount of alcohol you had consumed.

You were surprised you even remembered Matt’s confession. But you remembered how much you begged him to stay last night. When you returned to your room, he was awake. “Matt?” your voice was soft. “I like you too. A lot.”

“Kinda gathered that from the way you begged me to stay last night.” Your face heated up. “C’mere.” You embarrassingly made your way to your own bed quickly, sitting there. Matt dragged you into his arms and lap. “Tell me you like me again,” he asked.

“I like you,” you repeated. He kissed you, “I like you too.”

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

'Fake' Feelings

Zuko x Reader

Summary- In a pinch, you have to pretend to be in a relationship with Zuko. Little do you know it was never pretend for Zuko.

A/N- HAPPY BIRTHDAY @thethreeeyed-raven!!!!! This isn't my typical fandom as y'all know. I wrote this as a birthday gift to my best best best online friend. SHE'S AWESOME. Go check her fics out <3<3! CONTAINS A SINGLE BAD WORD >:)

Word Count- 2,468

"Mai, I already told you. I can't be with you!" Zuko was getting frustrated. While he did love Mai at one point, that was a long time ago. Zuko was now the Fire Lord, their relationship seemed like ages ago.

"And why not Zuko? We've been through this a hundred times. You always come running back, you're so pathetic. May as well cut the middle part and we can act like nothing happened." She stepped closer, pressing herself on his arm. "Like we always do..."

Zuko had finally realized how Mai controlled him. When he was weaker he was naive, now he knew what he wanted. Someone who never put him down, someone who never called him 'Pathetic.'

You.

He immediately thought of you. How you were so strong, but never put others down to feel powerful. How you always spoke your mind, but only out of the kindness you hid deep down.

Your walls were built up so high, but he knew who you were. He knew how beautiful you were.

"I can't be with you because I'm dating someone else." The words left his mouth faster than he could think.

This stopped Mai in her tracks. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, you're not the only one I am allowed to go out with. We've been broken up for awhile now." Zuko was no longer on the defense, but the attack.

"You do know that I am the only one who could love you. Who could love a traitor, a banished prince. Who else, huh?" Her arms were crossed, a smirk on her face. She knew she outwitted him.

Releasing his bit lip, Zuko exclaims your name.

Her face dropped. She knew exactly who you were. She was furious.

"We'll see about that..." With that, she left the room.

You were on your way to visit Zuko, one of your closest friends, for a 'friend reunion' Sokka had planned. You were of course excited to see him after so long. Though, the ride on Appa was miserable. About a hundred "are we there yet"s and "I'm hungry"s from Sokka.

The five of you- Sokka, Toph, Katara, and Aang made it safely to The Fire Nation shortly.

Upon landing, a man in red robes greeted everyone.

"The Fire Lord sends his deepest regards, as he could not see to you himself. You are instructed to follow me to your rooms." He had a stoic expression, but you guessed he greeted people all the time.

Oh well, Zuko must be very busy as a Fire Lord. You were sad, but couldn't blame him.

What you didn't know was that Zuko was pacing his room, definitely not busy. In reality, he cleared his schedule as much as possible for the week you were all visiting.

How was he going to tell you? He was deeply embarrassed, not to mention Mai might try and pull something with you. He knew not to underestimate her.

The thought of her trying to hurt you was enough to rack up the nerve to confess. He just needed a moment alone with you.

A grand dinner was prepared for the Avatars arrival, the rest of you reaped the rewards of being his friends.

"This is SOO good!" Sokka exclaimed, "Zuko sure has a way with food....." He slammed a fist on the table, before quickly lifting more food to his mouth,

"Sokka, you know he has chefs who make the food, right? Please tell me you know that..." You deadpanned, looking at him.

"Uh... Yeah! Yeah, definitely...." He looked down, that was until a new voice appeared.

"Sokka, did you really think I cooked all this?" Zuko walked to the seat at the head of the table. You noticed you were sat to his right.

It was a Fire Nation tradition that the Lady of the house would sit to the right of the Lord... You brushed the thought off quickly, writing it all off as a coincidence.

"W-well I don't know! You've been working ALL DAY!" Sokka squawked.

The dinner went on smoothly, well as smoothly a dinner can go with this group. You could feel the servants and servers rolling their eyes at all the unprofessional comments, jokes, and laughter.

You didn't care, you were just happy Zuko was able to be himself.

Hours later, when everyone was worn out and had their stomachs filled, they started to head to bed.

You were one of the last to leave, having been helping tidy up as much as you could.

You thanked and farewelled the servers, trying your best to remember where your room was.

The Palace was much bigger than you remembered. The halls upon halls blurred together. You were soon lost.

Every direction you turned looked the same, you started to breathe heavy.

You could already see it, 'cause of death, starvation in the Fire Nation Palace.' Or maybe dehydration would take you quicker?

A man passed by, you were saved! Though, the closer you got the bigger his scowl grew.

"Excuse me, I think I'm lost. Can you help me?" You were nervous asking, it was so 'common' for someone to get lost in a palace. You were sure your cheeks were red.

His face was dark, his eyes covered by his demeanor. For some reason he seemed annoyed at you.

"Sir?"

A hand rested on your shoulder from behind. It started you, putting you into a 'fight mode.'

Turning around swiftly calmed your nerves as quickly as they came. It was Zuko.

"Can I help you?" Zuko was talking to the strange man, who was no longer so 'big and bad.'

"No Fire Lord Zuko, my apologies." He barred his head in a bow and left.

You had a small smile on your lips, "Thanks, he was starting to scare me." While you were positive you could have taken the man, you were tired and didn't really feel like fighting.

"Of course, I can show you to your room." He held his arm out, you took it.

The gesture was friendly, you told yourself. Nothing more.

You must have been lost for awhile, as it took a few minutes to get to your room. The small talk exchanged was nice, but something told you Zuko was hiding something.

At your door, he stopped. "Zuko, do you want to come in? You seem restless."

"Actually, I do have something to tell you..." The tone of his voice scared you.

"Oh, then please sit." He joined you on the edge of your end. The door shut behind you two.

You pushed a strand of hair back, nervously sitting. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not really sure how to tell you this... I really am ashamed to have to ask you for a really big favor..." You had seen him on edge a lot, he was quite the stressor. Nothing like this, though.

"Zuko, anything. What do you need me to do?" You questioned.

He looked down at his hands, "You can tell me. I'm in no position to judge you, you know that."

"I uh," He rubbed the back of his neck, "I told Mai that we were dating so she would stop trying to get with me." He spit out so fast you almost missed what he said.

"Oh."

Well that's not what you thought he would say...

"That's not the worst part." He lowered his face to his hands, "The ball in four days, well I told her you were going with me... She's got Ty Lee lining up suitors for her. Trying to make me mad. Also she uh, she's probably told everyone now..."

"Oh." You were at a loss for words.

"I... I don't know... I'm sorry. This is stupid, at the ball I'll tell everyone what happened. I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen! It just slipped out an-"

"Zuko."

"Yes?"

"What if you don't have to tell everyone?"

You hadn't looked at him since he started talking. Honestly, a night with Zuko at a ball? It sounded like a dream. Zuko was handsome, kind, generous, and you'd had a crush on him for months. You knew he wouldn't ever really date you... So you might as well seize the opportunity, right? What could go wrong!

The two of you decided it would be wise to not tell anyone else it was fake, as Sokka, Toph, and Aang had big mouths. They'd slip up sooner or later. As for Katara, she wouldn't have kept that big of a secret from Aang.

So, for the next few days you and Zuko spent every second together. At first, it was coming up with plans for the ball. It turned into getting more physically comfortable with each other. That eventually escalated to spilling each other's deepest secrets, ya know... just in case...

Even in four days, you found yourself going from a crush to madly in love. You found out his quirks, what made him tick, his hidden likes and dislikes. Not a second was spent apart.

The afternoon before the ball you were stressed. It had been easy up until the ball. You just had to be yourself around Zuko, now you had to pretend in front of hundreds...

Katara helped you pick out a beautiful red and black dress. To match Zuko's of course.

A big scene was planned out between the two of you, Zuko would introduce you to everyone in an announcement and you'd walk don't the grand starts arm in arm with him.

It was fun to imagine and talk about, but now the 'what ifs' were running wild.

You somehow made your way to Zuko's room, knocking hesitantly. He begrudgingly opened, but became excited when he saw you.

"Zuko, I'm terrified." He quickly guided you into his room.

"What happened?"

"What if I fall? What if no one likes me? It's a lot of steps it-" He cut you off.

"Hey, it's okay... We can throw everything out the window. Just saw the words."

You swallowed thick. "No, no just... Just promise you'll be there? For me?"

Your name was a whisper on his lips, "Ill always be here for you... Just imagines its only us up there... Just normal day."

You nodded, more relaxed knowing he'd be by your side through I tall. It also gave you a wicked feeling of comfort to know he was still willing to do whatever you preferred. He would have ended the lie immediately if you asked, but you wanted to be there for him as well. To make sure Mai would leave him alone.

The Palace was bustling with people, waiters, food, activities, and entertainment. It all came to an abrupt stop when Lord Zuko appeared.

It was comical, trumpets blared and all head turned.

"Fire Lord Zuko, accompanied by-" Your name seemed unreal on his lips. To be announced with a Fire Lord? You felt you didn't deserve it.

You slowly walked into view of everyone, whispers erupting. To be 'accompanied by' was essentially dating for Lords and Ladys.

All eyes were on you as you took Zuko's arm, walking down the steps. You felt light, your grip tightening on Zukos.

"Almost there, I'm right here." His words were all the comfort you needed.

Music resumed and the party goers continued their fun.

That was expect for one person. Mai. She marched up to you, her questioning eyes on guard. Watching her march over sparked a fury in you, the fire started and didn't stop until you spoke.

"Hello Mai. How can I help you? Is your father well, since he lost his job as Governor and all..." You passively aggressively asked, a mock frown on your face.

"What would you know about Governor dad's and all? You grew up poor." Damn, she got you there.

"I guess the difference in poor and rich is personality. Cause you don't have one..." You shrugged your shoulders at her, biting back a laugh.

"At least Zuko loved me for who I am, not who I was pretending to be." She remarked, not really knowing why Zuko loved her or you.

"Damn Mai, you must know a lot about pretending. Seeing as you're a two faced bitch. Should I go and tell Ty Lee you called her an 'easy bed'." A gasp left her lips in shock, how did you know she said that? Well, you wouldn't tell her, but a gossiping Fire Sage spilled the beans.

Zuko, who had been temporarily called away to exchange pleasantries with a Navy Captain, had returned.

"Mai, I see you've met my girlfriend." He said, snaking a hand around your waist. Chills were sent up your spine.

She gave a scoff, "It'll never last. You're only in it because he's the Fire Lord." She pointed to you, then him, "And you, you just seemed to pick up the next girl you saw laying around. Talk about a downgrade. When you get tired of her, i'll be waiting." She walked away.

"What is her problem!" You exclaimed, face hot with anger.

"Jealousy, I think." He said.

You turned to face him completely. "What for, she doesn't even seem to like you anymore?"

"Maybe cause you're prettier than her?" He said, not realizing his own words.

Your cheeks were now flushed for a different reason. You swiped your lips with your tongue before speaking, "Thank you..."

Hours of dancing, partying, and eating went by. Everyone bought the act easily, you and Zuko were naturals at dating. The fun died down, and many were starting to go back home.

Zuko walked you back to your room, hand in hand.

"Thank you. I really cannot thank you enough, just ask. Whatever you want is yours." Zuko said, still grasping your hands at your bedroom door.

"I don't need anything. This was really fun actually, I know you were just pretending... but i've had the best time the past five days."

"Pretend?" His face screwed up, like he was in denial.

You blinked a few times, own lip curling. "Well, I mean... You made it pretty clear this was all just an act. I-I am not hurt." You were, but wouldn't let him know.

"Words cannot express how genuine these days have been... Oh gosh, I haven't felt this free since I was a child." He pressed on, serious.

"Y-you mean, none of this has been fake to you?"

"Well, I know you signed up for 'fake'." He looked over you, face uncertain.

With a step forward you spoke, "This hasn't been fake for me either..."

"Really?" He pressed his chest to your slightly, hand wavering around your waist. "Because I don't think I could live if you're lying right now."

"Will this answer your questions?" You leaned up, closing the gap and kissing him.

A/N-Thank you for reading, I haven't fully watched ATLA In a little bit sorry if Zuko is OOC!! When it's not midnight and I'm not super tired, I will edit any mistakes!

[ddejavvu]

yk that scene of morgan and elle in the car where he says “that must be the boyfriend 😏” and when she answers its gideon

could i request a blurb with that prompt but with hotch?

say when reader picks up the phone dereks shocked (the facial expression he pulled with elle) and he thinks the reader was joking. but she really wasn’t and her and hotch are in a secret relationship 🤗 and derek ends up catching them making out in the conference room later on and says “i thought you were joking 😨”

thank you! :-)

You love riding along with Morgan, because the two of you engage in banter so foul that Strauss's head would explode. There's no shortage of bickering, swear words, and insults between the two of you, but there's also no shortage of laughter, and riding with Derek anywhere is guaranteed to be fun.

Lately, though, he's had a leg up in the teasing game. He's caught you acting odd, and he's insistent that he's discovered your secret relationship.

If only he knew.

Your phone rings while you're on the highway, and he looks over at you smugly, "Aw, that must be the boyfriend."

You glance at the phone, seeing Aaron's contact there, and smiling wickedly.

"It is." You nod, and he slaps the steering wheel in victory while you answer, "Hey, Hotch."

"Y/L/N," Aaron greets you, sure to use your last name on working hours. As quick as Derek had celebrated his guess he retracts it, grimacing in horror as you stick your tongue out at him.

Aaron's only calling to tell you that there's been a new lead uncovered, and that JJ and Reid are investigating. It means you're still on track for an interview you're conducting with Derek, and as you hang up, settling back into your seat, Derek whistles lowly.

"You got me good," He shakes his head, "Would'a veered right off the road if you were dating the big man."

"Oh, you'd flip," You agree, laughing to yourself, "Just be glad you haven't caught us making out."

--

Derek's luck doesn't last. Hopped up on adrenaline from kicking both doors and ass, he struts into Hotch's office two days later to turn in his report on the case you've just closed. But what he finds behind the closed door stops him dead in his tracks, the file falling from his hand and landing in a messy heap at his feet.

You're making out with Hotch. You're- you're making out with Hotch!

"You're making out with Hotch!"

The two of you were both a little too wrapped up in each other's presence to notice the click of the doorknob, but Derek's bewildered shout does the trick. You jolt away from Aaron, standing were you'd been straddling his lap on the couch. He tries straightening his tie, as if that's the biggest issue and not the lipstick smeared over his face.

"Morgan, close the door." Hotch commands, and the agent tries to escape with it. "Not-! Get back here."

He steps square on the folder he'd dropped when coming in, standing there looking close to tears as you stand with your hands behind your back.

"You two have been," He lowers his voice, glancing around at what you presume are ghosts in Aaron's office, "Fooling around together? Really?"

"In my defense," You smile sheepishly at Derek, "I told you yesterday. You just didn't believe me."

"Yeah, because-!" Derek motions between you frantically, "I- I didn't know you were robbing the grave, Y/N! And Hotch! You're- ah, man, how long?"

"Two months." Aaron states, expression neutral although he's fiddling with his fingers at his sides, "We need your discretion."

"Discretion? Discretion?" Morgan ogles Aaron, "You expect me to walk out of here like I didn't just see her tongue down your throat?"

"Yes," You nod, "We do."

"Well-!" Morgan stammers, throwing his hands up in defeat and letting them slap his thighs on the way back down, "I- ugh, that's- that's gross. How am I supposed to know you'll work together if we leave you at the precinct, and not canoodle in the bathroom?"

"You don't." Aaron muses, and Derek's face scrunches in disgust, "But if you learned how to knock, Morgan, you won't be witness to any more."

"I am gonna walk out of that door," Derek decides, leaving the files where they are in preference of his peace of mind, "And we are never gonna talk about this again! Never, I won't tell anyone, I swear, but never let me catch you doing that shit again, you hear?"

"Loud and clear," You promise, calling after him as he heads out the door, head ducked and shoulders shivering slightly, "Have a good weekend, Morgan!"

"Don't talk to me!" He snaps back, yanking the door shut behind him. He's only halfway down the stairs from Hotch's office when he hears the lock click into place and his face warps in discontentment once more.

"Oh, come on guys, really? I'm not even out of the building!"

[hs-is-loml]

Bound. (a.t)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Fem!Reader (minor oc descriptions)

Summary: you didn't realize when you stood beside aemond during the night when he lost his eye would solidify your stance in the war.

Warnings: death, murder, angst, fluff between aemond and reader, betrothals, incestual relationship uncle/niece, little family drama (UNEDITED)

a/n: i wanted to get this out before i watched episode ten later. which will determine whether or not i write a part two to this.

word count: 5.5k

all translations of high valyrian come from google! english translations are in parentheses!!

masterlist - as i am yours (part two)

It was always a deep regret in your heart that you could do anything to save his eye during the fight. He never held any resentment towards you though as you stood by your place to his side. You could never fight against your siblings, and Aemond knew that. Though he continued to taunt them, you stood quietly next to him not meeting anyone’s eye. 

You could recall that night so vividly. The chaos of everything. The questioning of who was right and who was wrong. Trying to decide whether you made the right choice of standing next to your betrothed in his defense. Your family might hate you now, but you got a family out of it in more ways than one.

FLASHBACK

“Aemond, this is worrying to me,” you expressed your concern as you both made your way toward Vhagar to see if Aemond could claim her.

She was a free dragon as of the death of your Aunt/Stepmother Lady Laena Velaryon, and no one has yet to take claim of her more so bond with her. You knew that your half-sister would be furious at the revelation that Aemond was to be the next rider of Vhagar. In all honesty in your mind, it was her fault thinking no one would want to claim the most powerful/largest dragon in the realm. 

You knew that you were the creation of an affair between your mother Rhaenyra and your biological father Daemon. Everyone knew you were with your hair being as bright as snow and bold violet eyes with your fair complexion. Though you were legitimized by the King himself, so no one dared ever call you a bastard to your face. 

Ser Laenor was also your father who raised you and brought you up. You loved him as a father and knew how hard his sister’s death hurt him. You two would visit them on dragon back with Seasmoke and Silverwing allowing you to get to know your biological father and half-sisters. Daemon had a hard way to show that he cared for someone, but you were his jewel. 

He would teach you more complex High Valyrian and teach you about your ancestors. Always telling you that it was important for you to me in the knowledge of those before you when you were to take the throne. Which made Baela and Rhaena envious of the favoring of their father towards you. 

Though Daemon cared for you as his daughter when you visited him, he did not pay any mind to you outside of it. Always so hot and cold. Never allowing himself to get too attached to anyone. Making you more in favor of your stepfather Laenor. Who taught you how to swim on the shores of Driftmark, unbraided your hair before saying goodnight, taught you the basics of bonding with a dragon, and took you on rides with Seasmoke when you were too little to ride Silverwing. 

“There is nothing to worry about, and I would never let anything happen to you,” Aemond reassured you taking your hand as the two of you got closer to Vhagar.

“Aemond be careful, I will not lose my betrothed over a dragon claim,” you squeezed his hand before letting go allowing him to approach the large she-dragon.

“Dohaeras! Dohaeras, Vhagar! Lykiri! Lykiri!” Aemond shouted to the dragon as Vhagar growled in his presence. (Serve! Serve, Vhagar! Calm down!) “Lykiri.” 

You watched in anticipation, scared for Aemond’s life. To your relief, Vhagar seemed to be accepting Aemond as she allowed him to climb to her back. 

“Soves! Dohaeras, Vhagar! Soves!” he yelled out commands to the dragon. (Fly! Serve, Vhagar! Fly!)

As Vhagar and Aemond took flight, you waited for his return watching the beautiful dragon’s wings spread amongst the sky. It seemed like an eternity before you saw them rearing back to where you awaited. Vhagar landed with a loud grunt letting Aemond climb back down on her wing. 

“I knew you were always meant for amazing things,” you admitted to Aemond as continued to bond with Vhagar. He put his forehead to rest against the dragon’s cheek.

“Come here.”

“Aemond, you must be joking,” you nervously let out, staying in your place.

“Come here, love. She won’t hurt you, I promise,” Aemond said as he reached out his hand to you, beckoning you to come closer. 

“Rytsas, Vhagar,” you greeted the dragon, taking Aemond’s hand, and staying close to his side. (Hello, Vhagar) 

Aemond took your hand in his grasp and laid your palm against Vhagar’s cheek which radiated heat. Vhagar purred at the attention both you and Aemond were giving her. You enjoyed this moment shared between the three of you. You leaned your head against Aemond’s shoulder looking up at him as he relished in the fact he finally had his own dragon. 

“Maybe when we get back home we can take Vhagar and Silverwing on a ride together,” he suggested as you two made your way back inside the High Tide. 

“It’s him,” they gasped at the sight of Aemond and you.

“It’s me,” Aemond mocked.

“Vhagar is my mother's dragon.”

“Your mother's dead. And Vhagar has a new rider now,” Aemond stated in arrogance.  

“She was mine to claim.”

“Then you should've claimed her!” Aemond shouted in thinning patience. You stood behind him keeping your head down as your siblings continued to yell and argue with your betrothed. 

“Y/N, come here,” Jace commanded to you as he saw Aemond shield you from them.

“Jacaerys, you do not command her to do anything unless it is of her free will,” Aemond defended you as your siblings looked at you with disgust for siding with their “enemy.”

The chaos surrounding you came with the overwhelming feeling of guilt of not knowing who to stand by and defend. Causing you to be frozen in your place as they started to fight. You saw punches getting thrown around and how they all ganged up on Aemond.

“Baela, Jacaerys, stop it,” you shouted as you saw them go against Aemond. “Aemond, no!” you continued as you saw Lucerys’ nose bleed profusely from Aemond’s hit.

You were paying so much attention to them that you didn’t see Rhaena coming up to you ready to strike. You only realized when you felt the slap against your cheek.

“How dare you stand next to him instead of your family,” she yelled at you in disappointment. “Father will be so disappointed in you,” she said as if it seemed like you cared so much about your parents’ approval.

Everything seemed to slow down as you heard Aemond yell in pain, you turned in a hurry to try and attend to Aemond. That’s when you saw Lucerys holding a blade and you felt yourself sink down to your knees beside Aemond taking his head on your lap.

“What have you done?!” you shouted at them. “A disgrace upon all of you,” you cursed them cradling Aemond and trying to do your best to comfort him.

Aemond continued to groan in pain as you ripped a portion of your cloak to help stop the bleeding in his eye. The others continued to scream at you and Aemond which you paid no mind to.

“CEASE THIS AT ONCE!” Ser Harrold came rushing in separating your siblings from you and Aemond. 

“GET AWAY!” you screamed as you noticed them quieting down but unmoving. 

“My Prince, my Prince. Let me see,” Ser Harrold approached you two. “Gods be good.”

You stayed by Aemond’s side as the maesters attended to his wounded eye. You held his hand as they stitched it together, feeling him squeeze your hand when the pain got too much for him. You stayed quiet as both families argued against each other. You noticed the look your mother gave you when she saw that you had not taken the side of your siblings. 

Daemon stayed to the side watching the situation play out. Your grandfather continued to demand answers as he shouted amongst the room. 

“I will have the truth of what happened. My sweet granddaughter, tell your grandsire how did this happen?” the King turned to you asking for an explanation of the situation. 

“Due to the death of my Aunt Lady Laena, Vhagar was left unattended and unclaimed by a rider since. Aemond and I went down to see her and to see if Aemond could bond with her which he did. As we made our way back inside the castle, we were stopped by my siblings and cousins, and they argued with Aemond about Vhagar. In my honest opinion, no one truly claims a dragon they just bond with them as a rider, so making Rhaena's claim of Aemond stealing Vhagar from her false as she should not have waited so long to bond with Vhagar,” you started to retell the story to the King who listened closely to your words. “I did not want to fight against my betrothed or my siblings and cousins but I stayed alongside Aemond. The fight broke out between all of them when Baela threw the first punch against Aemond. I did not participate in the fight until Rhaena struck a slap against me while throwing insults towards my loyalty. I was too late to see the blade held by Lucerys and to save Aemond from the attack. It was an unfair fight as it was majorly the four of them against Aemond,” you told your grandfather letting a tear fall on the reddened cheek of yours as you look at Aemond and raised your hand to caress Aemond’s nonaffected cheek. 

Your mother, Rhaenrya looked at you with repulse as you finished retelling the incident. She never realized the actual bond between you and Aemond as she only ever thought of it as you acting for your duty to the throne. 

“Now how is it you are the only one to ever speak the truth? Thank you, granddaughter,” Viserys said as he laid a hand on your shoulder as he passed by you.

“Oh my sweet child,” Alicent came to you and brought you into her arms in a tight squeeze. “Thank you for being with Aemond,” she whispered into your ear as she let go to attend to Aemond more.

A couple of days had passed and you did not leave Aemond’s side for most of it. You noticed himself trying to distance himself from you and knowing it stemmed from the scar that was now embedded upon his face. He was scared of you feeling disgusted by his new appearance. You were quick to reassure him that you still kept the same feelings for him regardless of how he looked. 

You were with Queen Alicent and Aemond in his chambers when the news was broken to you by Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys that your stepfather was found dead. You were holding a vase ready to set it down beside Aemond’s bedside table. Upon hearing the news you froze and the vase slipped out of your hands shattering on the ground where you fell to your knees. You felt small shards of glass against your skin, but it couldn’t compare to the pain you felt in your heart for the loss. 

“Dear child, come here,” Rhaenys said with tears in her eyes as she approached you and signaled you to stand up from the broken glass. You felt stuck. Once again. 

“Y/n?” Aemond questioned from his bed. He got out of the covers and carefully stepped around the glass and brought you to sit on the bed. You were silent as tears gushed from your eyes. 

“How?” you managed to say through your growing sobs. Rhaenys and Corlys came to your side as Alicent and Aemond nodded to them as they walked out of the room out of respect. 

“His body was found burned in the fireplace of the hall,” Corlys told you taking the space to your left and Rhaenys took the spot on your right. You were staying down on your bloodied dress and trembling hands. 

“I never got to tell him how much I loved him,” you cried which had Rhaenys pulling you to her chest in a hug as you gripped her sides letting your anguish out. Corlys wrapped his arm around Rhaenys moving you to let yourself lean against the both of them.  

“He knew. He always loved you and was so proud of how you have grown. Always talking about your accomplishments and the adventures you both took visiting around the realms,” Rhaenys admitted to you softly relishing in the fond memories of her son.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized to both of them. 

“For what, granddaughter?” Lord Corlys asked letting his hand run through your hair.

“We all know that I am not my father’s actual daughter, but do know the love and respect I held for him in my heart as he raised me as his own,” you told them in honesty but afraid to look meet their eyes you kept your head down.

“Y/n, you are his daughter through and through. He cherished you more than anything in the world and we will always accept you as our own,” Rhaenys pulled your head up to meet her gaze and more tears filled your eyes at the love and acceptance given to you at this moment. 

“You hold the memories of him. You are his legacy,” Corlys confirmed to you. 

END OF FLASHBACK

“Darling, your mother, and her family are coming back here to petition for the claim of Driftmark in days' time,” Alicent snapped you out of your thoughts which caused you to snap your attention to her setting your cup of tea down on the table. 

“Is there a reason I was not made aware sooner?” you asked her with anxiousness crawling inside you.

“I saw no reason to worry you and the raven only arrived last evening,” she replied leaning forward to place her hand on top of yours. “It will be okay.” 

“I have not spoken to them since that day all those years ago,” you admitted aloud.

After the night when you stood by Aemond’s side to explain to your grandfather about the incident, your mother and your entire family turned their back on you. Which only allowed you to keep in contact with your grandparents Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys whether it was you traveling back to High Tide with Silverwing, Aemond, and Vhagar or them coming to the Red Keep to see one another. 

You did not even attend the wedding between your mother and your biological father still upset about the ending of your step-father. You learned to figure out that it was in the hands of your mother and her newlywed husband. You grew to resent them as they took the person who raised you, loved you for who you truly were, and never wanted to change you. 

You stayed at Driftmark until you got sick of the ocean air, and left to return back to the capital. You were welcomed with open arms by everyone but your own family that took their stay in Dragonstone. Your time in Red Keep allowed you to be with Aemond and spent time with your grandfather until he got bedridden a couple moons ago. 

“May I be excused, my Queen?” you asked.

“Of course,” she smiled at you, removing her hand and allowing you to stand and exit her chambers. 

You walked in the halls of the Keep stuck in your own thoughts and worries about what is to come soon. Knowing that it could never be calm with your families. You found yourself near your shared chambers with Aemond and knocked with the hope he was in the room.  Unless he was on the training grounds with Ser Cole.

“Yes?” you heard from inside the room.

“It is only me,” you said loud enough for him to hear you as well. 

“Well do come in,” it was quiet but loud enough for you to open the door enough to let you slip in and shut it behind you. “Has something happened?”

Aemond notices the look on your face and knows that you are drowning in some sorrows. He gets up from his chair near the fireplace to go to you and takes your hands to lead you to the bed to sit. Both of you sit along the side of the bed, but you are staring at your intertwined hands while he stares at you. He removes one of his hands from your and raises it to your chin to lift your head up towards him. Meeting eye to eye he nods to encourage you to tell him your thoughts.

“My mother and her family are coming back to the Keep,” you muttered looking around the room trying to not meet his eye. 

“Is she to bring all of them?” he scoffed at the thought of them being here.

“Yes, I assume so. She still has Jace and Luke, but I think she has another two in addition with Daemon and not to forget about Baela and Rhaena,” you answered as you thought about the family they had created without you.

“Well, we must prepare ourselves for the upcoming days,” he suggested as he let his fingers play with the sapphire betrothal ring the was worn on your left hand.

“I do not want them here.”

“No one does, My love.”

“They cannot come barging into our lives again just because they got bored of theirs,” you whine in frustration. 

“They are pesky little things,” he spat which made you giggle at the tone of his voice. In which he grinned at the sound of your laughs. 

You stood beside Aemond next to Aegon as the petition of Vaemond Velaryon was to be heard for who was to be the next Lord of the Tides. You felt the glares from your siblings as you stood alongside the Greens. With your emerald green dress with black lacing and your body adorned in jewels, they could not stand the sight of you standing tall with them. 

Though they had no right to any opinions they create of you, that did not stop them from frowning at the conjoined hands of you and the prince to your left. It was a constant reminder for them of the night everything changed. As you did not take their side after Lucerys wrongly slashed Aemond’s face. 

“I am Lord Corlys's closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins,” Vaemond stated to Otto Hightower who sat upon the King’s throne. As you have gotten along with the rest of the family, the Hand of the King was one person you would always dislike.

“As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon,” Rhaenrya said which made you scoff loudly at the statement. “If you cared so much about your house's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition,” she added on.

“You will have a chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra,” Queen Alicent said from her place near you towards your mother.

“Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard,” you continued for the Queen. Rhaenrya snaps her attention to you with sorrow-filled eyes in hearing your voice for the first time in years. Her eyes travel down to the grasp you held onto Aemond’s hand and arm. 

“What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess? I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn't recognize it,” Vaemond scowled at Rhaenrya. “I humbly put myself before you as my brother's successor to be the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides.

“Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Jacaerys Velaryon.”

“If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly 20 years ago, in this very…” your mother started.

“King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm,” as your grandfather King Viserys arrives near the doors. 

“I will sit on the throne today,” he breathes heavily. The King limps his way toward the throne before stopping to take in a heaving breath. “I said I’m fine.” 

It broke your heart to see the man you called grandfather slowly wither away to bones. The continuation of his walk does not go any further as he drops his crown as leans over his cane. You removed yourself from Aemond’s side and made your way to your beloved grandfather. 

“Grandfather, here,” you pick up the crown from the floor and offer your arm out to him to try and lead him to the throne easier. 

“Thank you, my child,” as he takes a seat on the throne. 

“My King,” you bowed your head to him as you placed the crown back on his head. 

Making your way down the steps seeing everyone’s shocked faces at the King getting out of his bed rest and his granddaughter for helping him. You made your way back over to the Greens with Alicent stopping you with her arm before you were able to reach Aemond.

“Thank you,” she smiled at you softly.

“I must... admit... my confusion,” the King starts off with coughs. “I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one present who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys's wishes is Princess Rhaenys.”

“Indeed, Your Grace. It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark would be passed through Ser Laenor’s daughter, Y/n, but in the circumstance that she is the next heir of the Iron Throne after her mother it would be passed to Ser Laenor’s trueborn son… Jacaerys Velaryon,” Princess Rhaenys told to King as she glanced at you slightly giving you a tight-lipped smile. “His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him. As a matter of fact, Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys's granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.”

“Well, the matter is settled. Again,” Viserys said. “I hereby reaffirm Prince Jacaerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides. As well as the next change of succession.”

The crowd gasps at the statement of the king. Alicent looks to her father in gleaming hope. Aemond and you look at each other afraid for the words that might be said next as if Aegon were to be crowned heir. Rhaenyra and Daemon look at each other in worry.

“I hereby state a decree whereupon my death the Iron Throne and Crown are passed onto my son Prince Aemond Targaryen and my granddaughter, his betrothed Princess Y/N Targaryen,” Viserys stated to the crowd. “For they are the next heirs to the Iron Throne,” as he looked at you and his son with a smile.

There is an uproar with the crown and attending council members in the change of succession. Cheers were heard all around the room except for your mother and family. Alicent turns to you and Aemond with a bright smile on her face. She takes your face in her hands and tilts your head down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“You will make an amazing queen, Sweetling,” she told you as she placed a hand on your shoulder giving it a tight squeeze. “You, my son will be a brilliant king,” shifting her attention to Aemond. 

“Oh thank the seven hells, it was not me,” you hear Aegon from beside you with a grin on his face which you poked at his side with a small giggle.

“Father, what is the meaning of this?!” your mother shouts from her place to the King.

“It is my wish you do not receive the crown, daughter,” the King said bluntly. 

“You break the law... and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir then now your second son and granddaughter,” Vaemond spat at the King. “Yet you dare tell me who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No. I will not allow it.”

“Allow it?” Viserys scoffed at the claim. “Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

“That is no true Velaryon, and certainly no nephew of mine.”

“Aemond and Y/N are of my kin and as well as Lucerys is my true-born grandson. And you... are no more than the second son of Driftmark,” your grandfather defended. 

“You may run your house as you see fit, but you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides. And gods be damned I will not see it ended on the account of this,” Vaemond shouted. “Her children are…”

“Say it,” Daemon said from beside Rhaenyra as Aemond pulled you behind him as he glared at Vaemond. 

“BASTARDS! And she IS A WHORE. Not to mention the ward you had taken under your house,” Vaemond yelled loudly in the room allowing every person to hear his words.

“I will have your tongue for that,” Viserys countered.

“WHO ARE YOU TO SPEAK AGAINST MY BETROTHED?” Aemond shouted in anger leaving your side. 

“Maybe she will end up like her moth-” as Aemond took ahold of Vaemond’s neck dragging him out to the courtyard. 

Everyone followed in suit with you running out after Aemond in front of everyone. Even the king who was moved to a chair carried by guards was in attendance to see what his son will do. Alicent grabbed ahold of your hand preventing you from getting too close. Rhaenyra looked at Alicent in envy at the relationship between you and the Queen.

“VHAGAR!” Aemond yelled out to the sky awaiting his dragon. “I shall feed you to my dragon for your vile insults towards the heir.”

“You are not even the king yet,” Vaemond spat blood on Aemond’s boots. 

“Ipradagon zirȳla, Vhagar!” Aemond commanded which had the large she-dragon pop her head into the courtyard and snatch Vaemond up in one piece. (Eat him, Vhagar)

“Well done, my son,” Viserys said from his chair proud at his son’s defense of his beloved granddaughter. 

“ANYONE ELSE THAT MISSPEAKS A WORD AGAINST PRINCESS Y/N WILL BE BURNED ALIVE BY VHAGAR!” Aemond shouts to the crowd. 

“This is an occasion for celebration, it seems,” Viserys started. “My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses. As well as our new crowned heirs my sweet granddaughter Y/N and my son Aemond. A toast to the young Princes and their betrothed.”

“Thank you, father,” Aemond thanked Viserys while taking your hand from under the table. 

“It seems that we will be planning your wedding sooner than we thought, Darling,” Alicent said from her seat next to the King. You were seated next to Aemond alongside Helaena. 

“Of course!” you beamed.

“It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world yet grown so distant from each other in the years past,” Viserys told around the table as he took off the golden mask from his face. “My own face is no longer a handsome one if indeed it ever was. But tonight I wish you to see me as I am. Not just a king but your father. Your brother. Your husband and your grandsire. Who may not, it seems to walk for much longer among you. Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly.”

“To you grandfather, King Viserys Targaryen, first of his name,” you said standing up from your seat and raising a glass.

“To King Viserys!” 

“I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen. I love my father. But I must admit that no one has stood more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him with unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude and my apology,” Rhaenyra toasts to Alicent.

“Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess. We are both mothers and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow. I raise my cup to you and to your house. For our children will make fine King and Queen,” Alicent smiled warmly to you and Aemond before turning back to Rhaenyra for the toast. 

“To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies as Prince Aemond marries my dear sister. To you and your family's good health, dear uncles,” Jace remarked after he had slammed his fists onto the table from what Aegon muttered to him and Baela. 

“I would like to say a few words. I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. They'll be married soon. It isn't so bad. Mostly he just ignores you except sometimes when he's drunk,” Helaena rose from the seat next to you. “Unless of course they are anything like how Aemond is to Y/n who worships the ground she walks on,” she finished with an airy laugh as you gaped at her wording with wide eyes.

“In speaks of her, this one goes to my daughter, who will ascend the crown and throne as well as her betrothed my nephew. For you shall have a long life and take the throne that you have taken from your mother,” Daemon mocked as he stood from his seat raising a glass to you. 

“You are no father of mine. And I did not take anything from anyone. Aemond and I will allow the kingdoms to grow and prosper instead of you and Rhaenyra taking it for your own selfish reasons and burning it to the ground,” you announced as you slammed your hands on the table.

“Brother, it was upon my wish it was given to them,” Viserys told his younger brother. 

“You are a disgrace to me,” Rhaenyra shouted at you. 

“You murdered my father. It is you who is a disgrace to the Targaryen name!” you argued back with rising anger at the thought of the two people who planned your father’s murder to be standing in the same room as you. 

Rhaenyra opened her mouth to say something but it closed with silence filling the room as tension surrounded the air. Viserys coughs loudly before groaning at the pain in his head making Alicent call the guards to take him back to his chambers. Aemond guides you to sit back down in your seat. Otto smirks at the obvious split between you and your so-called family. Aegon smirks at the entire situation. Daemon frowns at the result of this dinner. 

“I believe it is best if we end dinner now,” Alicent spoke out.

“Are you okay, My love?” you heard from behind you as you took out the pins holding up your hair. 

“Of course,” you replied. 

Aemond remove your hand from your hair and replaced them with his own as he started to carefully unbraid your hair. Though it was a normal occurrence that Aemond undid your hair, it never seemed to stop the warm feeling you would get when he did. 

“It is you who deserves to sit on the throne the most.”

“We will share it.”

“My love, it belongs to you, a true Targaryen.”

“Please do not mention my heritage as of now,” you groaned at the mention which made Aemond laugh at the thought of the dinner that just happened.

“In days' time we will be married,” Aemond said as he took your hand to motion you to stand.

“We shall be bound till our last breath,” rising from your seat to stand in front of him.

“I would never want it any other way,” pressing his lips against yours.

[adventuringblind]

Possessive

Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Dialouge: "You are ours and ours only."

Summary: Oscar gets possessive during a night out.

Warnings: downright Filthy smut, marking, dom/sub, double penatration,

Notes: This is part of my 1000 follower celebration

Masterlist

Neither Lando nor Oscar would say they are possessive men. They love each other and their girlfriend, and they know she loves them. It's very difficult, however, to remain neutral while watching another man flirt with her.

He started a conversation while she was dancing with Lily and Carmen during their post race celebrations. She'd politely tried to get away from him but the man is annoyingly persistent.

"Should we help her?"

"Can we do it without punching him is the real question."

"But it would be so satisfying if we did."

"Osc, you scoop the spiders up and take them outside. There is no way you can punch that guy."

The Australian whips around to face Lando. A smug look plastered on his face. "Wanna bet?"

Lando, with no alcohol in his system since he Despises the stuff, agrees. The Brit would soon come to learn never to challenge Oscar again.

The woman in question still looks highly unlikely comfortable and getting more agitated by the second. Relief, however, hits her as Oscar appears behind the man pursuing her and taps him on the shoulder.

"Pretty sure she wants to be left alone." His arms cross over his chest but he still looks as unassuming as ever.

Most people would assume Oscar doesn't know the definition of the word violence. She knows better, though. Her and Oscar had been together before Lando. If it's in the name of defense, he won't hesitate to swing.

"I don't see a boyfriend anywhere. Maybe you should go where you are wanted." The stupid man who can't take a hint seethes.

Oscar takes a step closer, invading the others space. "Seeing as I am one of two boyfriends she has, I think you should step away."

There is silence on the other end. Then a brutal look of disgust. "Well if she's used goods then you can have her, pal."

The look she hasn't seen for years only appears on Oscar for a second. The one that has is inner demons raging. The unflappable, sweet, gentle Oscar is seeing Red.

Only a second before the Aussies fist collides with the other man's jaw, sending him reeling backwards. He's always had a nasty right hook.

She says nothing as Oscar promptly takes her hand and guide her to the entrance. Lando trailing them from where he was watching. The Brit looks a mixture of terror and turned on.

The car ride is silent apart from the loud expressions passed between her and Lando and Oscar's fingers wandering occasionally. The last time he was like this neither of them could walk the next day.

The thing about Oscar, the incredibly calm and unfazed Australian, is that he takes all those emotions and puts them elsewhere. Into sex, specifically. Lando learned this the hard way. His teasing went one toe over the line. He ran out Oscar's patience in a series of events over the course of a week to test the limits.

So Oscar likes control more then he shows. It gives him an outlet, per say. He times and calculates and gets some kind of high off it. Plus it resets him to where he can take whatever shit people throw his way without losing his mind.

Oscar doesn't let go even after they are saftley back in their flat. Instead her body is slammed into wall of the entry way.

"Why don't you tell her what you said Lando. What got you into this mess." The voice he pulls out is the condescending one. The one that makes her knees weak.

"I said you wouldn't punch the guy."

"And if I proved you wrong?"

Lando swallows hard enough for her to hear it. Probably see it also, but her eyes are stuck staring at brown ones that are eating her alive.

"That I would do whatever you wanted tonight. No questions asked."

Lando screwing himself is not shocking. Now, Lando actually doing what he's told? That is even more shocking then when he got drunk. Only once before he decided he hated it for sure.

"Then I want you stripped and on the floor in the bedroom." Silently, the Birt pads away to do as told. Oscar loosens his hold on her body and give her some space. "Seriously though, are you okay? We won't do this if you were any kind if put off by that."

"And miss this opportunity? Absolutely not. If anything to sight of you actually punching somebody has me feral."

"Good. Then let's go find Lando."

Lando, to his credit, is following through. He just looks wicked sad about it.

"Lando? You alright love?"

"Doing what you're told is much less fun."

Oscar rolls his eyes at the pouting boy on the floor.

She was going to ask for instructions. But as she opens her mouth she finds there is no need. Oscar is dragging her to bed. Her clothes are litterally (and unfortunately) ripped from her body. The room is cold without layers, but it won't be for long.

Oscar's lips are everywhere. He kisses, sucks, licks, and bites every inch of skin on her body. Every peice of her knows the feeling of the Aussies warm lips. Every kiss leaves her tingly and every bite leaves her wanting.

"Lando, come here. I think people need to be reminded that she is ours. Would you like that baby? Do you want people to know you are ours and only ours?"

Her brain is too far gone to respond coherently. Lando has already got to work, claiming her where Oscar hasn't already. The Australians voice is gentle, but it's demanding. There is a need burried within it that says he needs people to know she's taken.

"I swear you're just too pretty. Everybody wants you. I'm tired of them not knowing you're already spoken for." Oscar is the next to shed his clothes. Lando's hands have gone from stagnant to touching her like she is the air he breathes. Both males are staking their claim on her tonight. A shared feeling of want for people to know she chose them passes between the two.

Mumbled pleads escape her. Some kind of contact where she's sensitive needs to happen or she might combust.

"Think you can take both of us in the same hole love?" Back to gentle. His need to care for her outweighed the need and desire to have her like this. It makes her agree so fast she gets dizzy from nodding her head so much.

Lando gets to be underneath her. His lips are still attached to her skin. It muffled the moans and tiny whines he's letting out as she sinks down onto him.

"Yiu know, Lando. That guy said our girl is used goods. What do you think? Do you agree with him?"

Lando detaches, his mouth agape. "I can barely get into her mate. I don't know how you're going to. Feels good to me."

"But aren't I used?" She whimpers.

Lando's hand reaches around her front to play with her clit. His large nimble fingers send shockwaves through her body.

"You are not 'used goods' baby." Lando says into her skin. His warm breath sticks to her shoulder. "We love you. We're keeping you. Fuck anyone who says shot like that."

To say she's gushing at this point is an understatement, despite that fact Oscar decideds lube is a smart idea. Now she's even more wet and sticky that she was with just her own self made lubricant.

Oscar takes it incredibly slow. To slow for her liking. But the second he's sliding into her, the friction with Lando, the stretch and positioning of everything. Yeah - it hurts.

Her teeth sink into Oscar's shoulder. Lando's hand is caressing her cheek and wiping away the stray tears that slip down the sides of her face.

It is ridiculous, really, the situation she's in right now. But she can't think as Oscar is cooing praises in her ear and Lando is meticulously puting his hands on her.

They spiral quickly after that. The tension that was in Oscar's shoulders releases as he is finally able to take what he needs. Lando has decended into a mess of moans and thrusting hips.

She is completely at their mercy. A mess of movment. The symphonic melodies of their voices fill the space of the bedroom. Hot breaths stick to her skin over the already present layer of sweat.

The ache in her bones and coil in her stomach rapidly approach a breaking point. She can't even warn them as everything in her snaps and leave her body a flailing mess. The two boys stutter and sink further into the mattress.

Then a silence. An amazing thread connecting all three bodies together.

They stay like that for the next ten minutes. Unmoving. Listening to the sounds of breathing and heartbeats.

"That was eventful."

"No kidding."

"Sorry if I was to rough."

All of them laugh. "Maybe you should apoligize to the guy at the club."

Oscar pulls out slowly, and then Lando lifts her gently off him. Then they actually collapse. Arms outstretched to hold each other close. "We need to clean up."

"We also need to look at your knuckles, Osc."

"I still can't believe you punched him."

Oscar rolls his eyes. "Well it ended well didn't it? I don't hear you complaining."

"Remind me to never challenge you again."

[mvniro]

 . . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 RIDE IT, FOLLOW MY LEAD ; a nakahara chuuya fic.❞

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . here, a chu fic.. in my defense, i blame my upcoming exams and busy schedule for posting so late.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . tw ; older brother's bestfriend!chuuya, fem!reader, nsfw, mutual pinning but confessions aren't direct, riding, cowgirl, virginity loss, mentions of consensual prostitution, spitting (not in mouth), angst and yeah that's all i can remember.

many things are kept away or hidden from children. drugs and intoxicated substances are usually tried to keep away from the reach of addicts and the lust for blood and itching for violence is desperately being avoided by a one time murderer with crooked morals.

yet the outcome remains the same most of the time with the forbidden being taken by the one it was supposedly kept away from is the one they acquire. it's a given in due course of time.

yet still chuuya watched for years as your brother tried to play the role of a protective brother and keep you away from most of his friends and social circle, the amount of his friends you met could be pathetically counted on one hand and even they haven't met you many times to actually put an identity and persona to your face except the title of being their 'friend's little sister.'

all but one.

"shit." your brother curses lowly, closing his eyes as he tried to find a way out of this sudden complication. he opened his eyes again and glared at you who showed up unannounced.

"i-i just wanted to surprise you -- i --"

and even now the ends of chuuya's lips quirk up when he saw you standing while gulping, cowering under your brother's glare.

"it's not about coming here unannounced or announced, it's about what would have happened if you didn't know your way? you would have been lost here and i wouldn't have a clue because i would be drunk out of my mind! you hear me?" your brother exclaimed loudly yet you don't fight like you usually do for each syllable he spoke, he raised the frequency of his voice to get his words across your brain.

"i am sorry --"

"i am not angry." your brother intrupted your apology but with the way imaginary annoyance dripped down his eyes as he continued to glower down at you told you anything but that.

"i can stay at a hotel or --"

"nonsense. i am not letting my sister stay at a cheap hotel when her brother has a good enough place for her to stay." your brother once again intrupted you, he glanced at the clock and furrowed his eyebrows.

"not good, there is an hour we have left to think of some solution." your brother muttered before he turned to look up at the second floor where the two rooms are -- one belonging to him and one to chuuya.

"well the solution is standing infront of you bastard." the boastful voice belongs to the red haired who spreaded his arms and looked at your brother with eyebrows cocked, faux offense painted all over the preety features which michelangelo would be in awe of and be inspired by.

your brother mimicked his best friend by raising his own eyebrows as he demanded the man before him to answer and make his point clear and maybe this is why he turned a blind eye to the way your eyes sparkles as you stare at the red haired man who you always favored over any other man.

"she can stay with me in my room till your party is finished, no?"

"you won't be attending?" your brother furrowed his eyebrows but didn't bother saying anything as he saw chuuya walk towards you and sling an arm over your shoulder.

"i rather not have iguana cling onto me. plus it's been so long since i last saw doll, let me catch up with her?" chuuya looked at you with the same gentleness which could be found in your brother's eyes when you aren't looking at him and your brother's eyes soften.

he is staring at the man who he could trust his life with, you with.

"iguana?" you repeat, a smile threatening to break onto your face at the joy of knowing chuuya and your brother still hold onto their silly habit of giving nicknames to people so they can shit on them later 

"yeah doll, iguana is a verrrrry mean and bitchy girl." chuuya widened his eyes playfully to faux seriousness, comfortingly squeezing your forearm as he joked with you.

the tragedy started when the poverty ridden man found illegal means to acquire quick cash to fill his stomach.

and tragedy began when your brother, a man of looks and a bad personality which rich girls usually swoon over met his pandora's box and never closed it for what easy way to make money then to be the fantasy of girls who eat french cuisine for breakfast, italian for lunch and japanese for dinners? and who can make him experience success better then those boys who drives ferraris in the day and spend the nights in bmw's with a girl on their laps?

prostitution on his own will where he is the abuser and he is the abused. he is the hopeless in a situation fabricated by your parents but you don't need to know it. any of it. for he would prefer if you still saw him as the brother you always knew, he is enough to feel disgusted by himself and chuuya is enough to have sympathy for him.

that exchange took place fifty five minutes ago and so this was why you are now laying on chuuya's bed after taking a shower, arms and legs spread as you stared up at the ceiling, basking in the silence of the room and the giddiness of your heart of being in the room of the one who first made you swallow the innocent drink of a crush which stirred into a drug of love.

the door to the room opened to pull you out of your lovesick and teenage girl like thoughts, you leaned your head up to see chuuya enter, half body inside the room while the other remained outside in a very obvious way to tell you that he had been stopped by someone on his way to the room.

you sat up, leaned a bit forwards to hear the voice of the man who made goosebumps to litter your skin,

"yeah man, kinda don't feel good today or i would've joined the party for sure." chuuya chuckled and exchanged a few more short words with whoever he is talking to before he turned around to face you, closing the door and locking it as well.

you tilt your head as you hear the click indicating the door is locked and safe from outside intruptions and chuuya grins, the same boyish grin which promised nothing but thrill and excitement from all those years ago and it sturred the same feeling of being smitten with the man infront of you who now stood right infront of you, hands on his knees as he leaned to be on the same eye level as you.

"just making sure no drunk bastard barges here doll. can't i be protective of the precious doll in my room?" chuuya is a big tease. a very big and mean tease for if not then why would he play with the fire that is your heart by caressing your cheek with his knuckles.

you immediately look away to distance yourself from the addicting touch of the attractive and fanciable man, eyes falling on the skateboard leaning against the wall instead.

"you still skate?" you ask as you try to change the topic but chuuya had never been one to be easily stirred away from his goals, his knuckles still felt the smoothness and roughness of your skin. his eyes were still trained on your face as he stared, earnestly.

"gotta have something up my sleeve to impress you, no? my doll is getting prettier every time i see her, i gotta work to maintain my position as your favorite, yeah? am i still your favorite?" he teases you and it's at moments like this which makes you be aware of the tease which he is, his words which drips with playful flirtation. oh shit, you feel your heart beating quicker.

chuuya nakahara is the type of guy daughters are kept away from. older, a tease, someone who isn't afraid to talk using their fists when words fail to make a point clear and a foul mouth to combine with his devilish features.

the devil may wear prada but chuuya nakahara wears a leather jacket and choker.

yet he is also the same boy who you met all those years ago when he first moved to your area, the guy you introduced your brother to and watched them clicking instantly to even watching them leaving together for university.

"you were and will always be my favorite." you mumble and nearly feel the charms of the man named chuuya choking you when he tilts his head as he heard you before he grinned, reassurance and confidence flowing through his veins and mixing with his blood.

"you are my favorite girl too, doll. my only girl." chuuya whispered in a tone which can be imagined to be close to a murmur and a whisper, as his words were meant only for you to hear.

he relished in seeing you squirm under his intense gaze as you looked away and chuuya furrowed his eyebrows in amusement as he saw your lingering stares at his skateboard increase, he asked,

"wanna try it?" gently oh gently did the wind blow through the garden you sat alone in or is it chuuya's loving voice that is stirring emotions in the garden of feelings of your heart?

you shake your head softly but he pouts, he saw the intrest glinting in your eyes.

so he does what he does best. making girls fall for him and his charms but there is only one he will catch from falling into the abyss of heartbreak.

"come on, i am gonna be there to catch you. trust me doll." why is he suddenly being so adamant, he doesn't know. but he does know that he should be viewing you as the little sister of his bestfriend and not as an insanely preety woman in his room.

the woman infront of him right now was previously the girl he used to carry on his back whenever he and your older brother used to go out and took you with them.

chuuya's eyes trail down your neck to your collarbones to those two sinful mounds on your chest which makes it very evident that you aren't the pubescent girl anymore but an actual grown woman.

and what better way to greet himself with this better reminder that the woman infront of him is the sister of his best friend than to indulge in innocent activities with her like he used to?

but your stubbornness to remain seated and not cause any noise which could possibly ruin whatever party your brother is having downstairs is being a big hindrance in this self realization trip chuuya wants to take his heart on.

for would he really break his bestfriend's trust like this even after knowing he is the only person your brother could blindly trust you with?

no, he can't.

chuuya playfully rolls his eyes to make it seem as if his inner self isn't torn between choosing what's right for his heart or what's right for his conscience, he extended his arm as if reaching for a decision but what good is it when both include you?

chuuya's hand wraps around your wrist as he pulled you to stand up and when you widen your eyes in surprise at his action, he wonders if you are walking on the same thin rope of desire and conscience.

"i will catch you from falling." chuuya muttered but the way his voice is low, his usual teasing and playful tone absent, can one really be ignorant to think he is still talking about the skateboard?

"always?" you whisper out and isn't it great that you two have a skateboard to use as a decoy for speaking about matters much deeper then the wood the said skateboard was craved from?

"i'll be damned if i don't." chuuya whispered and smiled before his smile faltered a bit and he chuckled nervously, this chain reaction of emotions within him made you feel as if you are the only one who wants to push the boundaries to the point of no return while he is comfortable with where you two stand right now.

you nod, not as excited as chuuya hoped to see but he doesn't let this bring his mood down, instead, he releases his grip on your forearm to hold your hand instead, leading you towards his skateboard which was proped against the wall.

chuuya leaned down to pick it up and as he did so, his hand brushed against your knee which made you gulp the shaky breath which were to leave your mouth to let chuuya know the effect of his touch on your body, trapping the breath inside your chest forever.

"i never tried skateboarding." you feel it's appropriate to let him know in advance of what an immature and inexperienced student he will be dealing with but chuuya stood straight after placing the skateboard on the ground, one leg on the skateboard while the other was on the floor, he waves his hand.

"this is why i want to be the one to teach you doll. trust me, yeah? i'll catch you before you fall."

and what could you do except nod, trusting the man as you grabbed his hand which he offered, you looked down at the skateboard and with a uncomfortable feeling gnawing at your heart, you slowly raised to place one of your feets on it, going for the centre of the board till chuuya stopped you,

"not here, near the ends. if you stand on the centre then you will loose your balance." he guided you as your heart felt a violent flutter when you noticed his leg which was still planted on top of on the skateboard to offer you stability on this otherwise unstable object of joy and amusement.

you nod and tightened your grip on his palm as you placed your leg on the end of the skateboard while his remained on the other end and he stood behind you, the free hand of his itching to close the distance between his palm and the curve of your waist.

"good, now try to lift your second leg up as well, put the weight on this one." he pats your thigh of the leg planted on the skateboard and you gulp, out of fear or out of desire?

chuuya didn't notice you biting your bottom lip for he was looking down at your shaky leg with his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, he muttered next to your ear,

"come on, try it." the gravel and low tone one of the man had you nearly closing your eyes but you resisted, the grip on his hand tightened even more as you lifted your leg from the ground for the slightest second before yelping, grabbing onto chuuya's arm with both hands as you felt your body shake due to the rawest taste of feeling the control you have over your body leave you as gravity plays a little trick on you to take advantage of the instability of your body.

but chuuya has always been the one to have an effect more stronger then gravity on you, it's like gravity bends to his will.

so it isn't a shock when chuuya's arm is wrapped around your waist as he pulls your body towards his, chuckling breathlessly as if he just recovered from being taken aback,

"easy there doll, i got you." he whispers, you nod.

he makes you regain your balance and you allow him to lead, his hand on your hip while you remained clasping one of his hands with your own to have support.

the hand on your hip tightened its hold and you wonder if it's how it would feel to have him grip you while your naked bodies laid sprawled with each other's?

"slowly . . . slowly, yeah, that's it . . . right there, such a good girl." chuuya guided you but your brain is salacious or why would your thoughts revolving your older brother's bestfriend be filled with concupiscence?

but alas, had the heart not been strong to a fault, would the humankind have gone through the many tragedies and achievements it did?

and chuuya's heart always had a hold on his brain so when he spoke the next sentence, it is utmost important to know his intentions behind it, he does when he does in a spur of emotions, of his desires which tickled him whenever he looked down to see his hand grabbing your hip and he almost had a urge to lift the cloth of your loose t-shirt up to see the skin his hands are on top of.

"did you kiss anyone while i was away?" he rapsed out and gulped thickly when he realised his words but what is giving him confidence to keep going on is the way he heard your breath hitch despite the blaring music from downstairs. and so he did.

"pardon?" you breath out and blinked.

"i will pardon you, no doubt in that." chuuya smirked, once he saw you purse your lips with no signs of discomfort or anything related to it on your face, "eyes on the skateboard doll." he tsked.

"right, right." you breath out as if being shaken awake from whatever daze you went in after listening to his words. now that chuuya's feet wasn't on the skateboard any longer, you felt even more nervous and scared.

"so did you? you know it's not nice to not answer someone." he mumbled, using his leg to guide your other leg on top of the skateboard.

his knee is pressed against the back of your's as he moves your leg sideways to find the perfect position for you to stand in without wobbling constantly, all while the other hand gripped and gripped your hip more tightly and the thought that it would be sure to leave a mark, his mark, is making his breathing pattern to be disturbed, hastening it's pace.

"no." you shakily breath out before repeating yourself in a more presentable and audible tone, "no i didn't, did you?"

you screwed your eyes shut, the instinct to show the same curiosity he did took the best of you and once the words were spoken, you were left all alone with your embarrassment in your body.

chuuya scooted a bit closer to you as if he wasn't already way too close then needed but who were you to point it out when you liked the body heat he radiated and the smell of his cologne faintly hitting your nose, but this step closer to you made his crotch to brush against the plush of your ass and you did everything to not grind against him or try to feel his crotch again.

"i didn't as well." he whispers, head dipped to such an angle that when he spoke, his breath hitted your jaw and is this how consuming cocaine for the first time feels like as well?

no wonder they are taboo and kept away from the curious minds.

"why? you are such a preety guy, don't you have girls begging to fall on your lap?" your curiosity couldn't be stopped now once it flowed out of the chambers of your brain. now, this curiosity flowed out and wrapped around chuuya's heart to make it feel giddy to know you care enough to be this invested in his personal affairs.

"ah," you exclaim as he makes you stand on the skateboard, your imbalance leading you to grabbing his shirt but as he stood behind you and you grabbed the nearest support you could find, you did not realize your grip was painfully near the waistband of his sweatpants because what need is there for you to look back when you were able to feel the faint outlines of his abs through the fabric of his cloth?

he helped you to stand on the skateboard and when he moved back to make you stand without his support, your knees wobbled and you widened your eyes as you were to fall backwards if it wasn't for chuuya to wrap his arms around your hips.

"got the girl i wanted to have on my lap finally." chuuya mused before helping you stand again, his hands on your hips as he stares down at your legs before he leaned down a bit to place his hand on top of your knee and your eyes widened for why would they not when your drug is flowing though your veins and into your kidney?

chuuya guided you to the position he deemed right before he stood up straight and as he did, so did the impure blood which was now once again filtered yet why did the drug still flow with it? why did it not get filtered?

you exhale a shaky breath as chuuya takes a step back after and you wobble on your feet but remain standing in place.

lines are being blurred. drugs are being inhaled and their intake is high. sin is in the air and chuuya is behind you. you are on a thin line and you loose or win is up to you. whether you fall or not is something only time will tell.

sin didn't just randomly appear, no, but it was excreted out by chuuya's brain and now the same sin of concupiscence was being felt by you too but the only difference is that chuuya has the confidence to act upon it and you don't.

"what? cat got your tongue all of a sudden?" chuuya mocked and oh, the words of mockery went straight to your cunt. "you used to talk a lot when we were kids, it was honestly so cute."

chuuya saw from his peripheral vision how his words resulted in you to bite your bottom lip to not release a breath which would come out a bit too shaky, he sucked in his inner cheek for he wanted you to react to his words and you weren't so he guesses he would need to push you a bit more.

chuuya lightly pushed the skateboard with his heel and you squealed. chuuya immediately wrapped his hands around you again but this time his hands were on your upper abdomen, just a bit from grabbing your boobs.

"easy there, doll." chuuya released a breathy laugh and you suck in air and your annoyance for how is it fair for you to be this hot and bothered by his teasing while he looks like he is having the time of his life?

"perhaps you aren't doing a good job at teaching me chu." you mumble only for the purpose to earn a reaction from him which you do but not in the way you wanted but you aren't one to complain for his cocky attitude as chuuya cocked his eyebrows in amusement at your words, is something no one could deny from finding attractive.

"i think so too, maybe i am being a bit too soft with you?" chuuya played along with your pathetic attempt as he finds areas of concern within himself, he helped you stand again and the sight of your figure shaking as you tried to stand steadily on the object is cute in his eyes.

"please hold me." your request is not innocent at all, or well, that's what chuuya thinks when your tone used is breathy and low but nevertheless, the cocaine in your blood does it work to strip away your troubles, chuuya's hands once again find their favorite spot ; your hips as he stands in a proximity so close that your heart busted with joy when you felt the outline of his chest on your back.

"what a greedy girl, aren't you a bit too demanding?" chuuya smirked and you could feel it in that cocky tone of his.

"you made me like this by giving into my every need." you whisper out as his voice is doing wonders on you, stimulating and making you shy but where rationality surrenders, arousal takes over.

this is why you placed your hand on top of his under the disguise of being 'scared' as you tilted your head back to rest it on his shoulder and looked up at him, whispering, "what should i do now?"

with a gulp, chuuya's faltered smirk returned as he rubbed his nose against your cheek, "the hardest thing when riding a skateboard -- for me -- was to stop. so let's teach you that first? hm?"

closing your eyes for the way he hums has you going crazy, you aren't sure if you want him to see your eyes exposing your true feelings for him but chuuya did, anyways, he knew it the second he had slinged his arm over your shoulder and watched you become the schoolgirl you once were as you shyly stood beside him.

chuuya is smart. and for a certain pair of siblings, he had always been the most observant and always on his heels if they needed help.

like a dance, chuuya pushed the skateboard gently with his heel while his hands remained on your hips and your's on top of his, now chuuya and you both knew this wasn't actually how one was supposed to ride a skateboard but it served as a good disguise to keep on feeling each other up.

"i don't want to do this anymore." you sigh, craning your neck to look at him with a pout on your lips, you temptress, you were just begging for chuuys to let go of his rationality and lean down to kiss you, weren't you?

"come on, don't give me that. you were looking at the skateboard so much and you used to always accompany us when we went skateboarding back then as well." chuuya tells as he takes a strand of your hair and twirls it on his index finger but bites off a smile when you shake your head.

"i don't really care much about skateboarding. i just liked looking at you riding it." you had confessed your childhood long secret of accompanying them with the purpose of letting your eyes drink in the sight of the then teenager who laughed cockily at your brother who gaped at him and another one of his tricks he performed on the skateboard, chuuya would laugh only louder when his eyes would trail towards you to see you looking at him the same way your brother would but the only difference would be that your stare would stir a feeling in him which would end with blush on his ear shells and cheeks.

now chuuya knew of your 'admiration' and 'fondness' for him. hell, he even knew of your feelings for him but what he did not know was how deeply and far back were they rooted into your heart. so he blinked.

you sighed as you saw his baffled expression and raised your head to stop resting it on his shoulder and if chuuya wasn't busy in repeating your words over and over again, he would've whined.

he froze, sure, but your thinking of the reason being awkwardness and utter surprise at your confession is not correct even in the slightest, he is frozen due to how the scene is playing out. chuuya knew of your feelings towards him as stated before and he had, ever since your brother broke the news of you coming to live with them to him, been imagining different ways of how the confession from both sides would go.

what he never thought was it happening during a moment of utter lust and attempts of breaking confinements, which, in this case happens to be their own conscience.

you run a hand through your hair, "well the cat is out of the bag." you shrug, disappointment is way too close to find a home inside your body. you smile helplessly as you look down at how you are standing steadily on top of the skateboard before muttering so only chuuya could hear though maybe it would've been better if he didn't, "i am helplessly in love with you, always were. i don't have intrest in skateboarding -- i just liked seeing you on it. i got offered to stay at the dorms near the university but i declined because i wanted to stay under the same roof as you . . . " you trail off, getting off the skateboard before turning around to face him.

your action is useless if you aren't actually going to look into his eyes and continue to stand with your head dropped low.

"i was excited. till i came here. chu . . ." you look up at him, eyes which he once dreamt of staring into his in classes he found boring, now stared at him but his dream didn't come true for your eyes didn't hold the spark he wanted to see in them, " . . what are you and my brother hiding? why are you so hesitant?"

you looked at the skateboard which served as a small beacon of the line you wanted to cross but couldn't.

you took a step forwards and tried to take a step past chuuya who snapped put of his frozen state, immediately clasping his hand around your wrist to stop you and pulled you back infront of him. he placed his arm on your shoulder as he leaned near you, smiling in defeat.

"the girl i desired is the sister of the man i consider my bestfriend, who stayed with me in my thick and thin moments. must i choose between love and loyalty? i am torn doll, oh so torn." he confessed too. not in the way he or you (in your dreams) could ever imagine.

so please, you begged yourself to not focus on how close his face is to your's and how if you tipped your head forwards, you could place your lips against his.

"you can't choose?" you asked as you stared up at eyes so filled with life that you could mock the oceans for not even their beauty could be compared to the pigment of the man's eyes in your opinion. "i kinda get it though. i knew this would never work. this is why i never wanted to confess but you made me." your smile gave it away that you are still stuck on the same rope.

"i made you confess?" chuuya grinned and clasped his hands behind your head, he leaned forwards even more to ruse his brain into being satisfied with him brushing his nose against your's though what his brain itched for was to have his hands on your ass or on your back or on any part of your body as long as he could feel your skin on his.

"mhm, you did." you continue to play with your teasing accusation as chuuya took a step back and as his arms were around you, you were forced to take a step forwards too to maintain the close proximity between you two.

there is a voice hammering in the back of chuuya's head which is telling him to stop before he does something which will give arousal a upper hand on him but when he looked at the smile playing on your lips, chuuya felt the urge to break free from his confinement.

"wow, this is what i get for trying to teach you how to stand on a skateboard? what a ungrateful girl." chuuya teased, his own grin making you gulp and he watched how you swallowed your saliva and how the lump flowed down your throat before his eyes rested on your breasts covered by the fabric of your shirt and how his hands shook as he tried to ignore the urge to pry your shirt off of you. he continued to walk back and make you walk alongside him.

"i didn't ask you to teach me, you did it yourself chu." you point out, licking your lips as you tried not to focus on his hands on you by staring at his face which he tilted to the side to let his eyes to trail even lower and oh, he smirked arrogantly and raised his eyes in amusement.

the confinements couldn't hold the man named chuuya nakahara who felt something snap in him when he stared at your legs clenching together and your hand twirling the end of your shirt as if the fabric is annoying you as much as he is.

"yet you followed my instructions like a good girl." chuuya raised his eyebrow in amusement and the excitement almost made his heart bust when he felt the under of his knee hitting the bed and chuuya fell on it and of course, you found yourself falling on top of him with your arms on either side of him to support yourself.

"i like being praised. especially if the praises are from you." what shame remains when everything else is being kept in the open? you do not fear the outcome for once chuuya had reciprocated with confessions of his own, your mind circulated and worshipped only one thought ; to lay it all bare infront of him and let time and luck decides what happens next.

the words you uttered sounded like mirth to chuuya but your body being pressed on his, thighs brushing against his inner thigh and the lower part of your stomach being right on top of his crotch told chuuya this situation is very much serious and not a product of his desires forging into a very real life daydream. chuuya raised his eyebrows and decided to take one step forwards which would decide the course of the night.

"now follow my new instructions doll." chuuya's hands landed on the ends of your shirt as he hooked his fingers on the fabric, his heart beated but not as much in excitement as it did in anticipation.

chuuya licked his lips as he felt them drying while waiting and analyzing the expression you wore and he wondered for the hidden meaning behind you simply blinking but perhaps there wasn't any meaning behind them and you were just as eager as him to proceed with this situation, chuuya came to know so when you lifted your body a bit to help him take off your shirt with ease.

looking at the surprise flashing through his pupils for its rather rare for the tease to be caught off guard, you knew you would not miss this opportunity,

"what? am i not following your instructions correctly?" your grin faltered when chuuya pulled the shirt over your head before using it to tie your hands together behind your back, the action was carried with such precise and swift movements that you didn't realize it until he had done it.

"you look so adorable when you are at a loss of words." chuuya sighed fondly, grinning at your choice of wearing a lacy baby pink bra and suddenly you felt hot.

if you were feeling hot before then you are burning right now under the scorching stare of chuuya whose eyes frantically looked over each inch of your skin and those covered mounds you were unexpectedly testing his patience with.

chuuya extended his hand towards one of your boobs and he rubbed his thumb over your nipple to watch it perk up under his finger.

maybe it's the thrill of finally living the scenario you imagine on many nights when your fingers are knuckle deep in your core and you are a moaning mess for the guy who you weren't supposed to crush on because he is your brother's best friend but you did, or maybe it's the foreign simulation of a real touch of another other then yourself on your inexperienced body but whatever it may be, the pool of your own slick on your underwear wasn't something you could ignore and especially not when chuuya moved his knee so that it could be right below your wet and clothed core.

"chuuy --"

"tell me to stop and i will but if you don't, i'll make sure no other man could satisfy you like i do." he muttered in absolute seriousness as if he meant every single touch and caress on the curves of your waist and you shook your head and for emphasis, you humped against his knee to let him feel the wetness he caused.

"don't stop, please chuuya. choose me for once -- for my body, doesn't matter. i know you won't betray my brother by dating me, i never expected you to, but please. just be mine tonigh --"

your words didn't get the freedom to be spilt out into the atmosphere as chuuya shuts you by tugging at the restraint on your hand to pull you down and kissing you, his hand came to find its place on the curve of your jaw which he carassed as if to soothe your nerves or to control himself from pouncing at you at the moment.

"shut the fuck up." he gritted as soon as the short kiss shared between you two were over but looking at your glossed lips and flushed face as you tried to grasp your breath stolen by him and his kiss and chuuya pulled your face down using the hold he had on your jaw.

your eyes immediately screwed shut at the feeling of his soft lips moving on your's before he tilted your head to acquire an angle which would make it easy for him to push his tongue into your mouth, at that your heart began beating fast again while your cells celebrated that its finally happening.

maybe this is why you began taking ragged breaths which lead chuuya to increase the passion he excreted in this make out session. his free hand went down and towards your shorts after which he teasingly pulled them down only to abandon them and watch it smack your skin, the hiss that left your lips gave chuuya the opportunity to push his tongue deeper into your mouth.

you wanted to caress his cheek, touch his abs and run your hand through his hair but due to the restraints on your hands, all you could do was whine in the kiss, chuuya pushed his knee up a bit to hit it against your wet core and you immediately lost any energy you had. this one touch from him had you going limp as your body leaned on his.

chuuya pulled back from the kiss to look at your eyes still closed with his own eyes glazed with arousal which broke through every confinement and restraints.

chuuya's both hands landed on either of your hips and he lifted you up before turning you both around so you would be the one lying on his bed and suddenly the way his smell infiltrated your nose had you gulping thickly. in excitement, in anticipation.

chuuya planted one hand beside your head as with the other, he pulled down his sweatpants before cursing under his breath. sweat dribbled down his temple and all the way from his cheek to his neck to his collarbone before disappearing beneath his shirt.

and when you raised your eyes again, you saw the man already staring at you as he smiled in what seemed like embarrassment.

but can a man like him even have something to be embarrassed about? oh, don't you know, chuuya? you make others embarrassed with just how ethereal and angel like you look.

he isn't the angel though.

the way his lips parted to let his tongue out to moisten his bottom lip made it clear so or else why would you release a shaky breath suppressing desire?

"give me a minute doll?" he muttered so lazily but just as energetically did his hands pinch your nipples again.

you nodded and chuuya raised to his feet to lean towards the nightstand as he opened the drawer and began to shuffle through the many objects placed in it.

"fuck, where . . . is it . . .?" you heard chuuya mutter under his breath and you raised your feet to trace it along his waist to tease him and rile him up.

"you keep condoms so casually chu?" your voice was purposely toned to sound pouty as chuuya spared you a glance over his shoulder and he grinned before looking back at the task in hand and a sigh of relief left him when he found the packet he was looking for.

"i do not fuck around like it's second nature for me doll. when you have a house which is the usual spot for any parties, you better keep condoms." vaguely he answered but the way he winked gave you the reassurance that you won't be tossed aside after being used even if that was what you originally were ready to accept if it meant he would give in to his and your urges.

"virgin?"is the only word you mutter as you watch the process of chuuya slowly pulling down and removing his sweatpants and boxers away from his body before he ripped the condom package off and he looks at you while not stopping with his actions.

chuuya tilted his head to the side with a smirk, "why don't you tell me that."

and as chuuya approached you again, he raised the ends of his shirt over his head before tossing it to the side and leaning over you again, "tell me if i am a virgin or not doll," he cooed, alright, but his words and their loving tone was a very big contrast to the way his hands greedily raised one of your legs up to pull your shorts and underwear down in one go.

you sinked into the mattress even more as chuuya parted your legs apart, hissing at the sight of your wet core which glistened as the dim lights of his room fell on them.

chuuya raised his hand to trace over your folds and relished at how his finger got coated with your wetness, chuuya looked up as your thigh had twitched at this action of his.

"first time?" he asked and when you nodded a bit awkwardly, chuuya had this sudden urge to go on his knees and kiss his way up your inner thigh towards your cunt before ravishing it -- but he would get another day to do it. right now, if his angry dick doesn't enter you, he will go insane.

so he rather leans down to plant a kiss on the tip of your nose before making his way down and at the same time he taps on your stomach to let you know to lift yourself for him which you do, arching your back so chuuya could put his hand on your back before his hand trailed upwards to unclasp your bra.

chuuya leaned back and pulled you along by pulling on your tied hands, he sat on the bed and pulled you on his lap a bit harshly before immediately sucking on your nipple while his one hand remained to hold your hands over your head and the other carassed your hip.

the latter hand then began to travel downwards and you would've loved to focus on his touch if it wasn't for the way he nibbled on your nipple lightly before beginning to suck on it. his hand began to rub your clit teasingly with nothing but the tip of his fingernail -- all while he ignored his hard dick throbbing for attention.

"fuck, what a good girl." chuuya hissed under his breath as if the man could not physically stop himself from admiring you and if one thinks so, then let's also know the fact that mentally, chuuya couldn't even look away for even a fraction of a second.

to control himself is like controlling a starving beast with a fawn left unsupervised and unattended infront of him and the only thing restricting the beast was the pathetic chain on it's collar.

you whine, raise your eyes to look into chuuya's before you lean near him to capture his lips in a kiss which soon is being led by him.

the chain snaps and the beast pounced on the fawn.

chuuya falls down on the bed as his hands reach to grope your ass, your hands are still behind your back as you try to match his pace in the messy kiss and it is when you separated to take a breath that chuuya mumbled,

"ride me, doll? go at your pace, i just want your first time to feel good since it's with me --" the smirk and the tone made it clear how cocky and proud he is of himself. " -- come on, don't you want to feel good and make me feel good too? what are you hesitating for dear? i'll be here to guide you." he coos. the way how confidence sprouts from each pore of his body is something only he could pull off for he has the skills to back up every claim yet with a man like him, one would clearly not imagine him to be gentle.

he isn't but that's something you came to know only after you had gulped nervously before sinking down on his dick slowly as he advised you to take him inch by inch. the foreign intrusion burned and with each inch of him sinking into you, you could feel your walls stretching and it felt as if they were almost being ripped apart.

chuuya isn't a man of gentleness in bed usually but seeing you bite your lip as you screwed your eyes shut thinking it would help you tolerate the pain, chuuya wanted to be nothing but be tender with you who is acting so docile. but chuuya can't help but snicker, he can't help but be mean and with the way your walls are suffocating his cock, he is sure you like this behavior a bit too much as well.

his hands are on your hips to be the only source of stability for your hands are behind your back, tied and even if chuuya knew you needed time to get used to the foreign feeling of his dick inside you, he couldn't stop from pulling his hand away from your hip and smacking it lightly to watch you yelp in surprise.

"don't be mean chu." you stutter, eyes opening to glare lightly at him without holding any negative emotions, you could feel the pain fading away.

"just because you are sitting on my dick and on top of me doesn't mean you are in charge." chuuya smirked and when your glare didn't falter and you continued doing so, chuuya snickered before humming lazily.

"fine, if you think you are such a big girl, go on and fuck yourself on my cock." he emphasized his words by thrusting upwards into you and the new, first time feeling along with the way it was done so suddenly had you moaning in pleasure, body leaning to fall forwards on chuuya's chest.

chuuya peeked down at you to make sure his thrust didn't hurt you but when he saw you staring at him with half lidded eyes, he couldn't help but laugh mockingly, bringing his hand to pinch your cheek.

"not glaring anymore, are we? was this it? you needed to be fucked to be put in your place?" chuuya patted your cheek and smirked, "ride me."

it wasn't a suggestion or a loving and thoughtful gesture of him like it was before but a demand which left no room for argument, not that you would be trying to do so as you wanted to feel more of him, the warm dick between your walls and the way his thrust made you almost close your eyes felt nice, felt addicting and you grew greedy to want more.

chuuya grabs your hips again to pull you back in a sitting position on his dick and waited before you finally began to move up and down his dick. sure, the rhythm was off beat and the movements you made were slow and not precise but it didn't matter for the euphoria settling in him is something he felt before only once maybe -- the first time he had shifted to the area you lived in and befriended you, at that time he felt satisfied with himself to know he isn't going to be a sore thumb or an outcast, that he has a cute girl and her brother his age to keep him company and help him get familiar with the area. but the satisfaction now is not of the same category except the fact that both these feelings were stimulated when you were near him.

right now, the way your walls are squeezing his dick and suffocating it makes up for your sloppy movements, the epiphany of being this intimate with the girl who he once only touched in his dreams is making this way more satisfying then any of the other nights he had with anyone else.

you moaning his name is what snapped him out of his daze, he looked down at you to smile to see that you found the pace which you are the most comfortable in and it's way better then what you were doing in the beginning.

a moan left your lips and got tangled with the groan that chuuya released as he continued to look up at you, cheeks blushing, eyes wide and taking in every inch of your tits jiggling and the way he had to tighten his grip on your hips to stabilize you on him.

as you went up and down on him, your slick coated his length more and more made it easier to move but the burn on your thighs after some time couldn't be ignored, you weren't used to this and chuuya decided to take matters into his hands when he felt your pace slowing down.

"can't even trust you to fuck yourself. guess i have to teach you how to ride a dick huh, oh what a cutie." chuuya cooed as he found himself filled to the brim with adoration but when he felt it overflowing, the adoration transformed into lust.

you closed your eyes as chuuya grabbed you by your curves, lifting you up a bit as he adjusted himself beneath you to be in a position where he could look at you without having to lift his head much (he had placed two pillows beneath his head to do so) and began to thrust upwards into you after immediately making you take all of him.

you moaned out loud as you digged your nails into your palms as chuuya's pace seemed to increase with each passing second and you felt as if there is not even as much as a second for you to breath.

your lower abdomen is where the pleasure started before it surged through your entire body, chuuya's hands on your waist were sure to leave bruises but it didn't matter at the moment when he kept on trying to grope the flesh his greedy fingers could find.

chuuya had you sitting on him with his knees behind to support you from falling, the wetness only seemed to make the sound of his balls slapping against your asscheeks reverberate in the room. chuua grabbed your thigh before parting your leg a bit so he could hit more precisely.

you looked at chuuya to see him glaring down at your jiggling tits with narrowed eyes as he tried to find something -- you don't know what but he looked focused on whatever he is trying to do. you looked over your shoulder at your tied up hands and when you looked back at chuuya again, he flicked your clit which made you moan loudly.

chuuya placed his hand on your back, just barely above your ass as he pushed you forward so you could be laying on him.

chuuya looked down to see your tits squeezed against his chest and he gathered a glob of saliva before spitting it on your chest, a breathless moan left his mouth when he saw his saliva trail down the valley of your breasts. he pressed his hands on your asscheeks to push you against him and raised one of his hands to grab the back of your thigh to push your leg apart and as he thrusted after doing so, you felt his tip graze the spongy wall that had you crying out in pleasure.

the thrust which follows the first one had more impact as it made sure to hit against your spot, making you curl your toes and arch your back. your tits pressed against his chest more in the process of doing so and so did your walls which clenched his dick, chuuya moaned closing his eyes and thrusting again.

you are the one having your first time with him yet why does he feel as if it's the opposite? he never felt like so.

chuuya slowly opened his eyes and what greeted his sight is a picture he will keep alive in his head till the next time he gets to have his hands on you -- your eyes closed as you laid on his chest, lips parted and he could see you drooling a bit and oh, chuuya felt his breath getting stuck in his throat.

he raised his hand to caress your cheek before pinching it and pulling you towards him using it, kissing the tip of your nose. this gesture made you clench around him and chuuya's eyes rolled to the back of his head.

he was pounding into you roughly, mercilessly and being animalistic, he used your shirt tied on your wrists to control you, pushing and pulling you to find all the different angles that'll have you milking his cock.

as he pulled you back to sit on him with the help of your shirt, you leaned a bit so your clit could be pressing against his pubis, your head tilted back and oh, chuuya widened his eyes, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he only increased his pace to feel his cock struggle with the way your walls are clenching so hard around it, your body shakes and even with chuuya's hands around your waist, he can't help but grin at your unstable state.

"chuuya, chuuya, let me touch you -- ah, chuuya!" you cry out his name desperately as his abuse to your cunt continued before you finally released a high pitched moan while experiencing your very first orgasm due to something which aren't your fingers but your fingers don't feel so good and if it weren't chuuya, you are sure this orgasm wouldn't feel so good as well.

you breath heavily before feeling your breath hitching, eyes opening wide when chuuya who had slowed down his pace while you were coming off your high, increases it suddenly again, his balls tightening and so was his grip on your waist, he is close too, your cum is definitely being a additional yet very much appreciated lube.

so this is maybe why he didn't pick up his ringing phone from the nightstand as he pounded into you, moaning and running a hand through your hair as he whispered praises to you.

"y-your pho --" you weren't able to complete your sentence when chuuya pushed you back to sit on him using the restraint on your wrist, his other hand raised to harshly squeeze your tit between his fingers.

"who cares? whoever is calling can wait, fuck, doll." chuuya hissed as ropes of white shooted out of his cock and creamed your walls, his thrusts turned sloppy but didn't stop.

and when they did, chuuya raised himself on his elbows to check who called him but he stopped midway, his hand hovered just above his phone when you grinded against him shakily, panting and body trembling.

"chuuya." your half lidded eyes stared at him and this was all chuuya needed before he is abandoning his phone to flip you on the bed, getting on top of you.

"spread your legs wide doll, let me see my pussy."

━━━━━━━ 💋 part two.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Love you, love you, love you...

Summary: You go into your arranged marriage already distrusting your husband and all other men, and despite him repeatedly attempting to gain your favor, you are resolved to rebuke him at every turn. Will you manage to keep up the walls you’ve built to protect yourself, or will prince Beomgyu succeed in getting through your defenses?

Word Count: 11k

General warnings: oc is basically a misandrist, she will not hear gyu out, her calling him a pinhead, gyu using the word rape (no one actually gets raped), oc being a bitch about their first time and making fun of gyu’s hesitance, oc is emotionally stunted, inaccurate description of first times, beomgyu and others calling him a sissy, arranged marriages. 

Smut warnings: sub!gyu, dom!reader, riding, cunnilingus, masturabtion under guidance, edging, premature ejaculation, breeding kink, playing with nipples. 

 

“We don’t have to do this.” 

You stand in front of your newly-wedded husband, livid. 

“You think I’m too fragile to consummate my marriage?” 

“No, I–” He attempts to explain himself but you cut him off. “Just because I was forced into this marriage doesn’t mean I can’t fulfill my duties.” You growl, offended by how weak he must think you are. 

“I was just saying that you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” He stammers, trying to recover from his unintended offense, and you snort derisively. “It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?” 

He gulps and shakes his head. “I know you didn’t want to get married to me but I can do right by you. I will never–”

You roll your eyes, drowning out his yapping. This is your least favorite breed of men–the ones who pretend they’re not like the others. Had you been less jaded, you might’ve fallen for it, but when your own father sold you out to the highest bidder, you’d be forgiven for your lack of faith in men. 

“Shut up and take off my dress.” You cut him off. 

“You really–” He tries again and you snap, all patience gone. “Fucking do it, you sissy.” 

His jaw smacks shut and he levels you with a glare. There it is, that male aggression you’re so familiar with. He storms over to you and clumsily undoes the intricate lacing on your wedding dress, struggling with them for some time until he finally, finally pushes the dress off and it falls to the ground at your feet. 

But no further movement comes from him and you turn around to see him sheepishly looking at the floor, avoiding glancing at your bare body. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” You grunt, reaching out to take his own clothing off. He lets you do it without a fight, the only protest being his flaming red cheeks. 

You let out a laugh when you pull his pants to the floor and are greeted by the sight of his hard cock that smacks against his naked belly. “All this protest, trying to act virtuous, when you’re just as horny as the rest of the pigs.” 

That gets him angry. Good, at least it’s not fake righteousness. “I am not a pi–ah!” 

Whatever his rant was going to be is quickly cut off when you grab his cock and pump it in your hand. “You can pretend all you want but your body says it all.” 

“What? So I’m a pig for being attracted to my wife?” He manages to grit out, calling you out for your judgment of him, but you’re not interested in having this conversation right now. 

“Shut up.” You throw back lamely, getting onto the bed and spreading your legs out. “Come on, let’s get this over with.” 

But he remains rooted to his spot, scowl full-fledged on his handsome face now. “I don’t want to feel like I’m raping my own wife.” 

“Either way I have no choice.” 

“Then I’ll make the choice for us. I can sleep in a different room.” He announces, bending down to pick up his discarded clothes and you panic. Yes, you didn’t want to get married to him in the first place, but the rumors that will spread about you if people find out that your husband fled your marital bed on your wedding night,–you shudder to think of it. It’s one thing to be viewed as a pariah among your peers, but it’s another thing entirely to fuel their outlandish claims. 

“I want this!” You exclaim frantically, blushing as he gives you an incredulous look. “I want you to fuck me.” 

His will seems to weaken for a second, and he looks like he’s about to give in, but then the doubt sets in again. “You don’t really–”

At your wit’s end, you reach out to grab his arm and tug him towards you, causing him to basically stumble on top of you on the bed. 

“I’m–I’m so sorry–” He quickly apologizes even though it was clearly your fault, and he props himself up on his elbows so he’s not pressed against you. Though he curiously doesn’t stand back up, and there is one particular part of him you can feel pressed against your belly, still hard. 

“I want you to fuck me, Beomgyu.” You repeat firmly, and maybe it’s the close proximity or the feel of your skin against his hot dick, but he finally gives in. “Okay.” 

He wedges a hand between your bodies. You can’t see what he’s doing but you know he had grabbed his cock because a moment later you feel it pressed against your pussy. Harshly, you will down a shiver that tries to slither its way up your spine at the touch. 

But the strange sense of excitement is short-lived, lost in the clumsiness of the man above you trying and failing to find your entrance. 

“I just–it’s hard to see–” He explains awkwardly, pulling back to get a better look. You can’t refrain from rolling your eyes at the pitiful scene, which only makes him more nervous. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” You groan after a while of watching him fumble around with his dick, pushing him onto his back and climbing on top of him. He stares at you, wide-eyed, as you grab his dick and line it up with your entrance before you start to sink down on him. 

Your outburst may have been more powerful if you didn’t then stop one-third of the way down because of the pain. “Oh.” 

Beomgyu notices your discomfort and reaches out to hold you up. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine.” You grit, forcing yourself to take more of him. 

“Wait–take it slow–” He wheezes out, even as he clearly fights to not get lost in the feeling of your hot cunt. 

“I can take it.” You tell yourself more than him, bracing yourself as you take the rest of him in. Once you’re perched on his hips, you give yourself a moment to get used to the painful stretch. Beomgyu on the other hand is in ecstasy, his breathing heavy and his fingers clenching around your plush thighs to keep himself in check. 

Seeing him so affected by you like this is what begins to lift the shock of the pain and allows you to feel a bit of pleasure as you will yourself to relax. He just lies there all pliant and still beneath you, not once using his grip on you to make you move despite you clearly feeling his hips twitch with the attempt to hold back from thrusting up into your heat. 

“Are you a virgin?” You ask, intrigued by his reactions, and his affirmative response is a given. “Yeah…” 

If any other man had claimed virginity, especially a wealthy, privileged man like him, you would’ve called bullshit, but with him you one hundred percent believe it. 

Finally feeling like you’re ready to move, you start swiveling your hips over him, trying to stretch yourself out in preparation for more. “Is it everything you imagined it to be?” 

He shakes his head, and for a second you have to contend with the ugly feeling his rejection sparked in you. But then he continues, “It’s better.” 

You scoff. Liar. You’re barely even moving. Why is he bullshiting you? What does he stand to gain from that? Whatever, you’ll give him something to really make his head spin. 

Bracing your hands onto his tummy, you lift your hips up before letting yourself drop down. 

“Oh god.” The breath whooses out of him, and you’re surprised to find that the action actually sparks a tiny bit of pleasure in you too. So you do it again and again, moving up and down until you’re all out riding his cock. 

“That good?” You coax, trying not to think about why you even feel the need to have him affirm his enjoyment to you. 

“Too good.” He answers tightly, biting his lip. You feel his grip move from your thighs to your ass, getting more purposeful as he tries to control your movement. “Slow down.” 

Like hell you will when it just started getting good. You grab his hands and pin them down beside his head. "Keep those here, understand?" You hiss at him. You won’t let him try to control you

He whimpers, nodding, and something about his easy submissiveness makes your pussy clench. But that seems to spur him on again, and his hands shoot out to grab you once more. “Hold on!”  

You snatch his hands up and shove them onto the bed again, keeping them pinned down this time. "Shut up." He might be the man but he doesn’t get to tell you what to do. This isn’t for his enjoyment. This is purely for the purpose of fully consummating your marriage. You want this to be over as fast as possible. 

Except you didn’t expect it to be over this fast. 

“You don’t understand, I–I–” He flounders, and suddenly you feel something warm paint your insides and you stare incredulously at the panting man under you, clearly in the throes of orgasm. 

"Fuck, did you cum already?"

"I'm sorry. I asked you to slow down." He answers pathetically and you look down at him in disgust. Well, there goes any hope of you getting off tonight. Not that you expected it in the first place. 

"Whatever. This is better anyway." You go to hop off him but he reaches out and one of your arms. “Wait. I can make it up to you.” 

“How?” You ask skeptically.

"Let me make you cum."

Let’s see, do you want him to clumsily try to fuck you to orgasm for the next few minutes before he inevitably ejaculates prematurely once more? 

"No, I'm tired." You shoot him down, disinterested, but he doesn’t give up, grabbing onto you tighter and peering up at you earnestly. "Please, just give me a chance."

It’s clear that he won’t give this up. It’s probably gonna take longer to convince him to leave you alone than it will for him to try and fail to make you orgasm. So with a heavy sigh, you lie down on your back, closing your eyes and willing yourself away from this moment.  "Fine. You have one chance." 

But your eyes snap back open when you feel something wet against your pussy, and look down to see him with his head between your legs, licking you. 

Most men would never do this. They just feel entitled to getting their dicks sucked while acting like it's so gross to repay the favor. But here is Beomgyu eating you unreservedly after he just came inside you. Either he's really not as bad as the others or he's a fucking freak. Probably the latter. Definitely the latter, but that doesn’t mean you can't take advantage of it. 

Beomgyu clearly doesn't know what he's doing, clumsily licking at your pussy like it's a tart, but that's okay. You can guide him through it. That would end this sooner and you might actually get an orgasm out of it. 

"Flatten your tongue out and lick from the bottom to the top." You instruct and he eagerly obeys, licking from your entrance to your clit again and again, his eyes never leaving your face as he monitors your reaction.

“Yeah, just like that.” You encourage, starting to feel a twinge of pleasure at the pit of your stomach. “Now wiggle your tongue. Good… go back to licking.” 

You guide him, making him alternate between sharp quick movements and long languid licks along your whole slit. Every once in a while, he’d pull his tongue back in his mouth to wet it and his lips would pucker and he would suck on your sensitive pussy, making your whole body tremble. It doesn’t take him long to notice, and then he starts doing it on purpose, more frequently, sucking your lower lips or you clit into his mouth before letting them go and attacking them with sharp swipes of his tongue then licking up all the arousal his actions produce. 

You hate how quickly he picks it all up, reducing you to a shaking mess in no time. 

Nearing your end, you grab his hair and push his face against your pussy. “I’m close. Focus on the clit now.” 

He moans at that, the sound traveling straight through your pussy, and it's the push you need to cum, crying out and tugging sharply on his hair as your orgasm shakes through you. Beomgyu doesn’t mind the roughness. On the contrary, it motivates him to nuzzle further into your pussy, encouraged by your reaction and fishing for more, until you tug his hair in the opposite direction, moving him away from you. 

"Beomgyu, enough." You squeak at the overstimulation, and he whines in protest, trying to fight against your grip to dive back in but you close your legs, denying him. 

He whines again but settles on pressing wet kisses against your heated thighs, looking up at you like a pup who just finished playing and is now resting on his master's lap, and just as adorable. 

At that final disturbing thought, you push him off you and get up to grab something to slip on. Beomgyu doesn’t make any attempt to do the same, his eyes glued to your figure as you put a nightgown on. 

"Aren't you going to get dressed?" You ask, trying not to glance at his naked body that he doesn’t even try to cover. 

He shrugs. "It's too hot." 

"Well, I'd prefer if you put something on. I don't want to sleep in the same bed as a naked man." 

He looks at you like you’re being ridiculous. "We're married. We just fucked." He says slowly and you put your hands on your hips, not appreciating the way he's speaking to you like you’re stupid.

"Yeah, and now we're done. I don't want to see your floppy dick anymore." 

"It wasn't floppy." He frowns, upset at the way you're speaking about his precious dick. Typical man, the slightest suggestion that you wouldn't be grateful to see his dick hurts his pride. 

But he gets up nonetheless, quickly putting some pants on before rejoining you on the bed. He doesn’t wear a shirt and you don’t bother fighting him on this. You just turn your back to him and close your eyes, determined to go to sleep quickly and end this ridiculous night. 

But any thought of sleep is stolen from your tired brain when you feel arms wrapping around you. "What the hell are you doing?" You ask him incredulously and he stammers in response, clearly not expecting you to object to the action. "I–I just thought we could… cuddle." 

You can see the blush on his face even in the dim light. "No. No. There will be none of that. I’ve fulfilled my duty as a wife already so keep your hands to yourself." 

His face falls, hurt crashing across it, and you’re suddenly hit with the sickening realization of what's going on here. 

Beomgyu likes you. 

It should've been obvious. From the way he looks at you, to wanting to make sure you don't do anything you don't want to, to striving to please you too, and now to trying to hold you to sleep. 

Well, too bad. You don't owe him love. 

You turn your back on his dejected expression. Just because he ate you out doesn’t mean you’ll start playing at being in love. 

________________

But you learn that Beomgyu isn't so easily deterred, and he seems determined to chip away at your walls brick by brick. Though, you’re just as determined and as soon as he takes one away, you put ten in its place. 

“Darling.” 

You wince as you hear your husband’s voice call out. Damn it, he’s found you. 

He trots down to you like an excited puppy, entirely too happy to be seeing you. He can’t actually be this excited to be around you despite your constant rejection of him, can he? Why isn’t he out there with the rest of the men doing whatever the men do? 

“Oh, you’re playing chess? Can I play next?” 

“Sure. I’m done anyway.” You say, getting up and getting hit by the most puppy-like pout you’ve seen on a human. “But I thought we could play a game together.” 

“I’m tired. I want to lie down.” You lie, wanting to get away from him, but your treacherous friend chooses now to pipe up. “Oh, come one. Play a game with him. Or are you scared he’ll beat you?”

Damn her, she knows how to get to you. You know she’s doing this purely because she’s been sucked in by your husband’s guileless act and she’s been consistently trying to get you to give him a chance, telling you that maybe he really isn’t like other men. You should pick better friends. 

You huff and plop back down on your chair, your friend grinning widely as she gets up and lets Beomgyu take her spot. Whatever, you’ll beat his stupid ass and humiliate him so bad, he’ll show his true colors. Men never like to be bested by the women they look down on. 

But to your horror and utter dismay–after an embarrassingly short game where you flounder and fail to mount any meaningful attack against him–Beomgyu ends up beating. And he does it with a smile too, like it was so easy, like he was beating a child. 

“Checkmate.” He claps his hands happily. “I’m pretty good, huh?

You don’t reciprocate his excitement. Instead you level him with a cold look that projects all your shame and self-doubt into hatred and accusation towards him. "You think you're better than me?"

All semblance of joy is suddenly sucked out of him, his eyes widening in alarm. “No! I was just–”

“Let’s play again. I will beat you this time.” You pointedly assemble the pieces back on the board, slamming them into place, face set in a severe frown. 

“I just wanted us to have fun together doing something you enjoy. Maybe impress you…” He mumbles but it’s all background noise to you, already formulating a plan of attack in your mind. 

You win the next game, but you draw no satisfaction from it. How can you when your opponent clearly wouldn’t fight back? He misses obvious plays, leaves himself vulnerable to easy attacks, and his moves are devoid of the quit wit he displayed earlier. 

“Take this seriously, dammit.” You yell at him after you win once again because he just wouldn’t attack your pieces. 

Take me seriously. A voice pipes up from deep within your unconsciousness before you squash it back down. 

“Not everything is a competition.” He huffs glumly and you stare at him incredulously. “It is a competition, pinhead. That’s the definition of a game.” 

“Haven’t you heard of a friendly game?” He asks, a hint of sharpness you’re not used to from him tinging his voice. 

“We’re not friends.” You answer dumbly, and he scoffs softly. “Clearly.” 

He gets up and you gawk at him. “Where the hell are you going?”

“I’m done. God forbid I accidently make you actually have fun.” 

“Hey, I have fun!” You shout, getting up too, and he has the audacity to roll his eyes. “Yeah? When?” 

“All the fucking time.” You lie through your teeth, for some reason feeling like you need to prove yourself to him, like you need to best him at something, but he still doesn’t believe you. 

“Show me then. Let’s do something fun.” 

“Sure! Let’s go to–let’s check out the–let’s–let’s–” You stammer and he gives you a skeptical look. “Oh, fuck off. Like you have a blast every day.” 

“I do, actually.” He straightens up, happy with himself for some reason. 

“Oh yeah, then show me what you do that is so fun.”

_______________________

‘You deeply regret challenging him,’ you think as you watch the idiot that is now perched onto a tree branch, grabbing a rope that is dangling from higher up on the ancient tree. 

“You’re going to hurt yourself.” You yell, craning your head up to look at him. 

“Well, then at least you’ll be happy.” He comments off-handedly and you frown. You wouldn’t be happy if he hurt himself. Yes, you didn’t want to get married to him, but that doesn’t mean that you wish the idiot any actual harm. 

Before you can think whether to refute his words out loud, he clings onto the rope and takes off into the air, swinging over the lake under him before letting go and plummeting down into it with a big splash. 

“Oh my god!” You scream, frantically peering over the edge of the water, scanning the outpour of bubbles for signs of your dumb husband. 

After what felt like eternity, he resurfaces, whooping in excitement. “Whoah, that was awesome!” 

You give him a skeptical look, eyeing the water warily, when he pipes up again, “Try it. You’ll love it!”

“Yeah, no thanks.” You dismiss him quickly, having absolutely no desire to willingly follow him into the murky lake. 

“What’s wrong? Scared you might actually have fun?” He goads. 

Yes, you’re scared. Not of having fun, but of the ominous water. You’ve never been a big fan of swimming, not trusting your fate to the fickle gods that control those menacing depths. But you’d never tell him that. You’d rather die than admit to him you’re scared of an activity he performs so nonchalantly. 

So you steel yourself and head towards the tree he had jumped off earlier, taking off your dress to get it out of the way before climbing onto the thing. 

"Do you need help?" He calls out, swimming towards you. 

"No, thanks, I'm not a damsel in distress." You snark, grabbing onto the tree firmly and using the branches to pull yourself up. 

You can feel his eyes on you the whole way, no doubt waiting for you to fail and call for help, but he's got another thing coming if he thinks you’re a weak girl who needs a man's help to do anything physical. 

"Whoa, look at you go." His laughing voice wafts up to you and you can't tell if his surprise is good-natured or condescending. 

The climb is easy enough. You’re used to doing such physical activities, much to the chagrin of your parents who always urged you to act more ladylike and stop embarrassing them. 

'Well, fuck them, and fuck him,’ you think triumphantly as you reach the large branch he jumped off. But your triumph is short lived, promptly snuffed out by the sight of the cold abyss underneath you. 

He must've seen the dread on your face because he calls out once again. "Hey, you okay?" 

You shift your gaze from the water to his face, and the uncertain look on his face annoys the fuck out of you. You will not have him doubt you. You will not show weakness.

You grab onto the hanging rope, cringing at the slimy feel under your skin, but you power through your disgust and your fear, clinging onto the slippery thing as you swing forward. 

But can’t get yourself to let go, the dreary water swirling underneath you compelling you to cling tighter to the rope. 

"You gonna jump or what?" Beomgyu laughs and you almost don't hear him through the beating of your own heart in your ears. Still, you don't let go despite his provocation, your fingernails digging into your palms and your muscles burning as you continue to clutch onto the rope tightly. 

"Hey, don't worry. I'm right here." You hear his voice right under you, taking on a concerned tone as you clearly struggle. "Come on, let go."

You don't want to. You want to go back to shore but you're stuck, suspended in the air, the slimy substance on the rope making your fingers slip bit by bit. 

Fuck, you're gonna fall. You're gonna fall. You're gonna–

You scream as your grip finally falters and you plummet to the lake below. As you breach the surface, water rushes into your open lungs through your open mouth, suffocating you. You thrash around in panic, certain you're going to drown over a stupid dare.

You feel something grab onto you and you thrash harder, your panicked brain convincing you it’s the lake itself trying to bring you down to your demise at the cold, dark lakebed.

“Hey, hey, calm down.” You hear Beomgyu's muffled voice, followed by his face coming into view, his expression scared but trying to keep calm. "It's me. I got you."

I got you?

It takes a few more seconds for you to realize that the thing that had grabbed a hold of you earlier was not the lake but Beomgyu, and that instead of trying to pull you under, he's trying to keep your head above the water. 

As soon as you realize that, you wrap yourself around him, clinging onto him for dear life, shaking like a leaf in the wind. 

Beomgyu keeps one of his arms wrapped around your waist and moves the other one up and down your back soothingly. “I got you. You’re okay. Take deep breaths.” 

You do, following his lead, focusing on his breathing and mimicking the slowing rhythm until the both of you are sufficiently calm. 

"There you go." He smiles, no hint of judgment or mockery on his face. “You alright?” 

“I’m fucking cold.” Is all you can think to say, and he laughs, the sound warming you up. “Let’s get you out of here.” 

What? Where the hell did that come from? 

Beomgyu carries you on his back as he swims to the shore. It feels like forever but you eventually reach it, and as soon as you find your footing, you let go of him and scramble out of the water, throwing yourself to the ground. Eyes closed, you take in deep breaths, finally able to breathe properly once again. 

"Do you not know how to swim?" Beomgyu asks, and you hear him sit down next to you. 

"I know how to swim." You retort sharply, too sharply to a man who just saved your life. But you can’t help it, your pride is wounded after you embarrassed yourself like that in front of him. Besides, it was his fault all this happened anyway–him and his stupid wit and his stupid carelessness.

He is silent, but you know he clearly wants you to explain yourself. So begrudgingly, you add, "I just don't like it. The water freaks me out." 

"Then why did you–oh." That small little syllable stings at your already bruised pride. You wait for him to make fun of you but he doesn’t say anything further, mercifully choosing to spare any possible remnants of your ego. 

It’s quiet for a bit, and as you sit drying out, you feel something other than the sun burning your skin. You peek your eyes open to see him staring at you. He looks away when caught, blushing like a young boy caught staring at his crush instead of a man looking at his wife. He's ridiculous. 

"What?" You prompt irritably. 

"You're pretty." He murmurs bashfully and you scoff. "I know. That's why my father was able to sell me to a prince."

Beomgyu frowns, unhappy about you bringing this up again. Oh, did you ruin his little make-believe scene? "I didn't choose this either, you know?" 

"You sure don't seem all that torn up about it." You retort, unkind about his obvious liking towards you.

"Because I can see that even though neither of us chose this, I was blessed to end up with such a smart, strong, beautiful wife. But you clearly don't think the same of me." 

You don't think his response would elicit such a gnawing feeling of guilt inside you, but his self-pitiance coupled with his compliment of you makes you almost regret your attitude. But you refuse to give in to his guilt tripping. You don't owe him happiness. You're not going to bow down and be grateful because he deigns to like you. 

At your silence, he scoffs and gets up. You fully expect him to turn around and walk away, leaving you behind, but to your surprise he offers you a hand instead.

"Don't look so surprised. You may choose to be cruel to me but I will never treat you the same way."

The nerve of this man! God, he pisses you off so much. 

You push his hand away and pull yourself up on your own, getting dressed before stomping back towards the palace.

_______________________________

He keeps away from you after that. True to his words, he remains civil and courteous, but doesn't try to press for anything more… and you have to admit, you start to miss it. 

Not because you hold any affection for him–of course, not!--but because you're alone here with no family and so few friends. Beomgyu on the other hand is surrounded by people who are delighted to have his company, ensuring he is never wanting for company or affection. 

You on the other hand are woefully lonely, so much so that eventually you reach your breaking point, grabbing him one night while you're both getting ready for bed and kissing him. 

"What? Am I finally worthy of your affection?" Beomgyu derides when you break the kiss. You have no right to be upset at his abrasiveness when you're the one who caused it but you still are. Why can’t he just shut up and give you what you need? Why must he make you feel even more embarrassed about your need for him? Not that you’d ever admit either to him. 

"I'm in my fertile period. We need to make a baby." You cover your tracks, and he somehow still manages to be hurt by your response, as if he was actually expecting you to confess your undying love to him. "Wow, that is so sexy."

You roll your eyes and slip off your dress. "Is this sexy?"

He doesn’t even try to hide the way he ogles your body and you laugh, stripping him before pushing him onto the bed. "I thought so." 

_______________________

As punishment for forcing you to almost reveal your alarmingly developing need for him, you concoct a cruel plan designed to repay him tenfold. You set out to satisfy your need while simultaneously maximizing his own by restricting any sexual intercourse between the two of you to your fertile period of every month, and spending the intervening time alternating between depriving him of your touch and teasing him until he’s begging you to let him have you. 

He comes to memorize your schedule and, like a trained dog, starts getting restless close to the when you’d be fertile, staring at you like he's fucking you in his head, humping the bed in his sleep, sporting a semi-permenant hard on as the day draws closer. 

"Did I say you could slow down?"

You take to edging and denying him during your sex-free periods on the pretense that you want him to be full and ready to breed you when the time comes. It's bullshit of course and he knows it too, but he wants to have a family with you so much and wants to please you so badly that he lets you do whatever you want to him. 

"I'm close." He tries to excuse his disobedience but you have no patience for it. 

"You can hold it." You assert, knowing full well he's near his breaking point, but it's just so fun to watch him fight with his own body to try to please you, caught between continuing as you want and risking cumming and angering you or stopping and angering you by disobeying. 

"I can't." He shakes his head, despairing. 

"You can." You say more gently this time, going for a different tactic, though no less devious. "You want to knock me up don't you? Wanna see me get big and round with your baby?"

"Fuck, stop it." He whines, his hand barely moving over his cock but not daring to stop. 

"You're so pretty like this." You coo, knowing he's a sucker for your compliments. They're rare but he lives off of them.

"Oh." He gasps, speeding his pace on his cock, needing to hear more. You can see the muscles of his tummy tensing as he tries to hold back but his hips can't help but buck into his own hand. "Please. Just let me cum once. My balls are so full. I'll have so much for you still. It's been so long." 

God, you love making him do this. He'll do anything you ask of him. Maybe he's rotten like all men but at least his brand of sickness is fun to watch.  

"It hasn't been one week. Are you that addicted to sex? Did you fuck yourself every day before I came along?" 

He shakes his head, denying your accusations. "You keep teasing me, wearing those revealing clothes to bed. Touching me under the table. Whispering dirty things in my ear when we have company…" 

"You love it, you dirty pup. I know you do."

"I love it. Love you touching me, love you toying with me, love you…"

He doesn't finish that lost one. He doesn't get to–or maybe that was the end of the sentence-before he suddenly spills his seed. 

"Oh god. Oh god, I'm so sorry." He cries, just as surprised about his orgasm as you were. "I didn't mean to, I swear." 

"But you did." You tsk, intent on milking his "disobedience" to death and making him whimper and cry like a scolded dog. But the sheer panic in his reply throws you off. "I know. I'm sorry. I tried to–" His voice cuts up in a hiccuping cry. "I tried to–tell you–to stop–I couldn't–help–ittt."

You stare at him in shock. He has tears streaming down his face, shoulders going up and down with every gasping breath he takes, and his hands are hovering nervously in the air as if he wants to reach out to you but is scared of what your reaction would be. 

So you take it upon you to reach out to him instead, holding his hands in yours as you scooch towards him. "Hey, hey, it's okay."

"No, it's not." He shakes his head vigorously, tears flying off his pretty lashes. "I try so hard to be good for you and I can't even control myself. I know you’re mad."

"I'm not mad." You deny, but he just keeps shaking his head and mumbling sadly, "Didn’t mean to disappoint you."

"I'm not disappointed." You reassure him, more firmly this time. "It's just a game."

"You are–"

He obviously won't listen to your words so you go for a different route, cutting him off with a kiss that, thankfully, he easily melts into. 

The kiss is tender–every diminishing sob released against your lips unwillingly tugging on your heartstrings until you feel completely wretched for somehow making it so he reacted so strongly to something so stupid. It was never your intention to make him actually suffer. You merely wished to protect yourself. But how do you do that when your distance is what's making him so miserable?

You do not owe him your love but does that mean that he can't earn it?

"I'm not mad." You repeat when you end the kiss and he nods, eyes glued to your lips as he licks his own, his wish clear. But before he can ask for another kiss, you choose instead to let go of him to grab something to clean him up with. 

He never takes his eyes off you as you wipe his hands off and clean the cum off his body. And he still stares at you as you dispose of the rag and lay back down on the bed. 

"What?" You ask, sharper than you intended and he flinches. So you try again, gentler this time. "Do you need something?"

He stares down at his hands as he speaks, wringing his fingers nervously. "Will you hold me to sleep?"

Your following silence prompts him to finally look up at you, and the wet, vulnerable look in his big brown eyes physically prevents you from rebuffing his request. 

You sigh, throwing an arm out pointedly and he doesn't waste a second jumping forward and snuggling into your side. 

__________________

That small action--Beomgyu having you hold him to sleep instead of the other way around–makes you realize something that should've been obvious to you from the start… unlike other men, and despite your worst fears, Beomgyu isn't looking to control or lead you. 

He never did, from your sex life to what you do in your free time and even to public appearance, he lets you do as you please, only ever venturing to appeal to be included in it. You've even embarrassed him in public a couple of times before and yet he never lashed out against you in any way. 

Other people were decidedly less kind though. You know they're gossipping about you. How you're a shame to other ladies and he's a disgrace to his family and the prince title. It gets to a point where you can't help but inquire about it to him, perplexed by his seeming indifference to what anyone else had to say. 

"Does it not bother you?" 

"What does?" He peeks an eye open to look at you from where he is laid down on the grass next to you, another successful hijacking of your time. 

"What they say about you?" You spare him the details he knows all too well–that he's not a man, that he isn't fit to be a prince, that he's so weak and feeble even his wife rules him 

"It does, of course. Everyone seeks to be accepted by others-be it friends, family, society, a lover…" He trails off tenderly, and you ignore the longing look he gives you. "But I have a loving family, supportive friends, and a secure life. I'd be a foolish man indeed to ignore all of that and spend my days trying to gain the approval of those who think ill of me." He says with a smile that suddenly and unexpectedly falls, "Why? Does it bother you? Me not being manly?"

"Would you change if it did?" You ask curiously and he frowns in thought before answering. "No, I want you to be happy with me, but I want to be happy too. I want us both to be happy." 

"Why do you want me to be happy so badly?" You ask genuinely. It might be a stupid question to ask your husband but the sad reality is most husbands don't care much for their wives happiness. 

"I believe a marriage should be built on respect and affection. Your spouse is meant to be your life partner, they’re there to witness it all, your everyday life, your ups and down, the mundane and the exciting. Why not try to make the best of those years? Why not be each other's rock when the world tears you down?" He espouses thoughtfully, a wiseness you never expected from him coming through, making him look mature and worldly. But then an innocent bashfulness takes over his face and he returns back to the boyish prince you’ve come to know. "And… I've always had a crush on you."

"Me?" You ask, surprised. You’ve met the prince many times before. You were hardly strangers before your marriage, but you wouldn’t have considered yourselves friends and certainly didn’t suspect that he held any romantic sentiment towards you. But you suppose that explains his existing partiality towards you despite your less than sweet reaction to the marriage. 

"I have always loved how bold you were despite everyone trying to force you to fit the status quo. It gave me courage to be myself too. I thought if you could manage to act so decidedly outside of what is deemed proper for a lady and still remain the most radiant and exhilarating woman in the room, then maybe others could find beauty in me too." 

You gape at him, at a loss for words. He finds the parts of you that are so repulsive to everyone else attractive? Is he messing with you? Is this some cruel joke? Or is he actually telling the truth? 

You so badly want to believe him, but you can’t bring yourself to. It’s too good to be true. 

"Did you ever… think of me that way?" He asks timidly, not daring to look at you, fearing your response, and for once, you feel saddened that you’re unable to give him the answer he’s looking for. 

"No." You tell him honestly. You haven’t given him much thought before you got married. Sure, you could see that he was handsome, and he had always made himself known by his unusual behavior but other than that you hadn't really paid much attention to him, too caught up with your own troubles to pay any mind to his. You come to regret that now. At the very least, you might’ve made yourself a friend who would accept you for who you are. Or so he claims anyway. 

"What about now?" His follow-up question is even more timid, whispered so quietly you almost didn't hear it. And you wish you didn’t because you don't have any answer for it. 

"Let's not go there." You reply uncomfortably, getting up in order to physically remove yourself from the loaded question, refusing to consider that you might actually have developed any affection for him. 

But Beomgyu quickly sits up and holds onto your hand. "No, please, don't leave. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." He begs dolefully, which doesn't help your uneasiness in the slightest bit. 

"It's fine." You lie to no one's benefit. "I just have things to do." You excuse yourself unconvincingly, taking your leave before he can fully articulate his next argument. 

You hate seeing him so down, but what can you do when he insists on breaching this delicate topic again and again? You have no answer for him, you really don't. Why must he keep prodding? 

____________________

"Is it time to go to bed yet?" Beomgyu whispers in your ear. He has been giving you needy looks the whole night, when he wasn't actively hanging onto your arm like he is right now. 

It's the first day of your fertile period, and like you always do, you love to stay out as long as possible just to torment your poor husband. And lucky you, tonight there was just the perfect excuse to stay out even later–a ball hosted by the royal family and inviting noble and rich families from all over the kingdom. 

"We're the hosts. It would be rude to leave this early." You tell him sharply as if you weren’t counting on him acting this very way, as if you’re not immensely enjoying it.

"But it's been hours." He whines and you feel him grind not-so-subtly against you. 

"Are you seriously humping me in the open like this?" You ask incredulously, "Can't you control yourself?"

He shakes his head. "You know I can't." He tells you helplessly and you smile. Yes, you know very well. "I need it."

You chuckle. "Oh, you need it? What if I don't give it to you?" 

He wails at the idea and a few heads turn towards you. 

"Don't worry. He just hit his toe against the chair." You wave the curious and concerned glances off before turning towards Beomgyu with a sharp look. "Now look what you've done. Do you want everyone to know what a needy whore you are, my dear?"

"I don't care. Just need you." Throughout it all he hasn't quit pressing his bulge against your hip. 

"That's too bad because we're staying for some time still. Now run off and talk to your father's guests and stop being such a rude host."

"But–"

You disentangle yourself from him despite his protests. "Go or you won't be getting fucked tonight." You threaten against his ear before pressing a quick kiss to the skin below, causing goosebumps to erupt in your wake. 

You walk off with a big, self satisfied smile, your excitement building as you imagine how desperate he'll be once you actually take him back to bed. You wonder if you can get him to cum untouched. He has very sensitive nipples and you've always wondered if you can actually make him cum just by playing with them. You’re sure you can. Maybe tonight you'll try. 

You’re so focused on what you have in store for your poor husband that you don't notice the two people approaching you. 

"Oh darling, look how happy you look." You hear your mother's voice next to you and your mood immediately sours. You turn towards the pair with a scowl. "Hello, mother. Hello father."

"Hello, dear. How is my precious flower doing?" Your father asks, leaning forward to give you a kiss on each cheek that you don't reciprocate. 

"Deflowered." You deadpan. 

"Oh, come off it, baby. You know your father chose Prince Beomgyu because he was sure he would cherish you. That boy positively adores you." Your mother chastises, and you frown. Did your family seriously know of Beomgyu’s feelings towards you before you did? "And from what I'm hearing, he's doing just that. I mean even today, he can hardly leave your side for a minute." 

You snort. If only she knew what was really going on... But to be fair, they weren't entirely wrong. Beomgyu does cherish you. That doesn't mean that you'll let them feel good about what they did. 

"Your mother is right, love." Your father says gently but firmly, "We just wanted to ensure a good life for you with a man who adores you as much as we do. You are our only child and if you hadn’t gotten married, you would have been the object of many a wicked man's greed." 

You roll your eyes at them. You could’ve handled yourself just fine. Not that they ever believed in you. "Whatever." 

Are you being immature? Yes, but you’re still bitter about them not giving you a choice in the matter or even the man you were to marry, even if their choice turned out to be decent. 

"Excuse me. I have to go find me dear husband." You give them a sour smile and turn you back on them. Their worried murmurs fade into the background noise as you step away from them and search for Beomgyu in the crowd, determined to go back to your room now. 

When you spot him though, your mood takes an even more severe plunge. He's not alone, and the way he's entertaining the guest is way more intimate than you had instructed. The woman next to him is standing way too close to be proper, and she has one of her hands on his shoulder and the other one trailing down his chest. 

Of course. Typical man behavior, as soon as you're out of sight he's wrapped up in some other woman’s arms. And here you thought he actually cared. 

A dull pang starts out from the middle of your chest before it quickly spreads all across your ribcage in sharp stabs that take your breath away– a testament to the hurt you're feeling at this betrayal. He really got you fooled, huh?

You were contemplating whether to march off and slap the both of them silly or go back to your room, locking him out and crying your eyes out, when you hear his panicked voice floating into your full ears. 

"I'm married!" He stammers, trying to wiggle out of the woman's hold on him but she just steps closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself against him.

A rage like no other fills up your body at the sight, searing off the wounds that were just covering it from the perceived betrayal, but you force yourself to stand still and watch how this will play out. 

"So? All princes take mistresses. I hear she's not even letting you fuck her. What a heartless bitch." 

That’s it! You make a move to step forward and smack her filthy hands off your husband, but he does it himself, throwing her hands off him angrily. 

"Don't you dare speak about her that way." He shouts, furious in a way you've never seen him before. "She is my wife and I love her. She satisfies me much better than you could ever hope to do. I want no one else but her so kindly fuck off before you embarass yourself any further." 

You freeze. Beomgyu loves you?

Yes, you knew he liked you and he was never shy about expressing it, but love? 

It's at this moment, while you're rooted to your spot in shock, that Beomgyu finally sees you. A big smile replaces his affronted expression as he calls out to you. "Oh, darling there you are!"

But then he notices the look on your face and his own expression pales, his eyes jumping between you and the woman who is still standing next to him. "It's not what you think. I told her to back off, I swear."

Oh, he must think you're upset because of her. Well, you were but not at him. Not after he proved himself right in front of you. Still, this is a good distraction. It's better that he thinks that. You can't discuss the other thing now. You can’t even process it yet.

You quickly compose yourself and walk up to them, wrapping your arm around his waist and giving him a sweet kiss on his lips. "I saw." You smile at him before turning your withering gaze towards the woman. "You heard him. Fuck off and go find another man to lay under." 

The woman scoffs and walks off, shouldering you as she goes, but you don't care. You turn back to Beomgyu, and whisper cryptically to him. "I want to speak to you, dear. In private."

His eyes widened in fear. "Darling, I'm sorry–I really tried–"

"Let's go." You snap, pulling him after you into the garden. 

You choose a place deep enough into the garden you're sure no one will see you before you push him against a tree. 

"You just attract them, don't you?" You raise an eyebrow at him, pressing your thigh between his legs. "Standing out there looking all needy and pretty."

"I told her to go away." He cowers pitifully, but he’s already rutting his cock against your thigh. 

"But she just wouldn’t, huh?" You ask with mock sympathy, "You're just a helpless slut aren't you? Need me to be around you all the time to keep you in place?"

"No." He whines, shaking his head roughly. "I can behave. I can be good."

You spit on your hand and put it down his pants, stroking his cock and making him keen and melt into your touch. "Look how easily you give in." You tsk, "How long would you have held out if she did that?"

Beomgyu shakes his head again, tears brimming his pretty eyes. "Never would've given in. Only yours."

"Aw, how cute. This cock is only for me?" You murmur against his lips, palming the head of his cock and feeling his precum already leaking and wetting your hand. 

"Everything. I'm all yours." He confesses, his eyes conveying an affection so strong, you can't weather it. You take your hand out of his pants and flip the both of you around so you're the one pressed against the tree. "Fuck me." 

"Here?!" He gapes. 

"Yes. Want you here." 

"But anyone can see." He looks around as if searching for those phantom voyeurs. 

"Didn’t you say you’re all mine? Show them." You press your lips against his, coaxing him into giving in with sweet kisses that he craves. 

“Honey…” He whines, but you wrap one leg around his waist and pull him against you, his body reacting on its down and his hips bucking against you, his cock searching for your warmth that you’ve kept away from him for so long. 

You ignore his half-hearted protest, pulling his cock out of his pants and lifting the skirt of your dress up so he can feel you directly. His breath leaves him when he feels his cock glide against your wet pussy. “Oh… you’re not wearing anything underneath.”

“Uh-huh.” You nod, biting your lip and looking at him seductively. “Wanted to be all ready for you to take me. Didn’t know you’d be entertaining other women.” 

You’re really dragging out this other woman farce, partly because it’s fun watching him scramble to deny it and appease you, and partly because you feel entitled to him as your husband. You’re not going to be the woman forced to marry a man, only for him to cheat on her too. 

But still, you can’t deny the jealousy and hurt you felt seeing him with someone else after he’s spent the last few months professing his affection to you and forcing his way into your life. He said it’s only you he wants, right? Well, you want him to act like it, damned by the reasons behind your unwelcome feelings. 

Beomgyu’s eyes widen in horror and he finally presses forward, pushing his cock into you in one needy thrust. “No! Was only thinking about this pussy. I promise.” He wails in earnest, “Only want you.”

His words are like a balm to your wounded ego, and you reward him with a messy, open-mouthed kiss–the kind you know gets him all riled up. “Then fuck me like it.” 

“Yes, darling.” He holds up the leg you have wrapped around him with one hand and uses the other to grab your waist and press you flush against the tree, stabilizing you so he can drill his cock into you, an urgency to his movements that tops even your previous encounters. 

“Good boy.” You pant, feeling his cock hitting places deep inside you that have your toes curling. "Is this what you wanted all month?"

"Yes, baby. Been thinking of it every night, wished you would just flip over onto your tummy and let me fuck you." 

You grin evilly. “I know, baby. I felt that hard cock against me every night. Loved to wake up with it pressed right between my asscheeks.” 

“You’re so cruel.” He mewls, fucking into you desperately, making up for all the torture you put him through. 

“I know.” You laugh, trailing your hands up his body to play with his sensitive nipples, and when your thumbs brush over them, his hips stutter and he rewards you with the most debauched moans. 

“Fuck, don’t do that or I’ll cum.”

“But I want you to cum.” You retort, pulling lightly on his hardened nipples and causing his hips to give a particularly harsh thrust. "Cum inside me. Knock me up. Let them all know who you belong to."

Your words drive him crazy, and soon he’s fucking into you like a wild animal. "Fuck, you’re going so rough. Were you that needy?"

“Yes.” There is no shame in his reply, just pure want. He's not shy about letting his need for you show, his mouth wide open, panting heavily, and eyes glazed over as his hips slam against yours. "Thank you. Thank you for letting me inside your pretty pussy."

Just his face brings you close to the edge, and his wild thrusts threaten to push you over at any moment. 

"Look how slutty you look." You tease, cupping his face. "Are you all pussy-drunk, my dear?"

He nods, leaning into your touch and only managing a few garbled moans in response. 

"That's okay, pup. All I need from you is your pretty cock. You don't need to have any thoughts in that pretty head of yours. Just keep fucking me like a good boy." 

He nods again, enraptured, and his blind obedience finally sends you over the edge. 

“Fuck–fuck–good boy… good boy.” You moan out, the praise coming out long and slow as your body tenses up before spasming, your pussy milking his cock and drawing his own orgasm out of him. 

Beomgyu buries his face into your neck, letting out choked moans that later turn into heavy pants as his high crashes through his body. But even when his breathing settles down, he is reluctant to pull away from you. 

“Beomgyu?” You call out. He lets out a small hum and nuzzles further into your skin, mumbling something that you can’t quite hear.

“We need to go.” You start again, the leg he’s still holding up starting to cramp while the cool air bites at it, and he whines. “But this feels too nice.”

You smirk. “What does? Your cock all warm and snug inside my pussy?”

You feel his cock twitch inside you and he nods. “Yeah. Also this.” He says, running kisses up your neck that makes you shiver. “You never let me do this much.” 

You know. You only allow these intimate moments after sex, not wanting a repeat of what happened before, but also needing to limit them to protect yourself. Which is exactly why you want him to pull away now. 

“We have to go.” You repeat, jostling him a little bit, feeling your heart picking up at the precarious moment. You feel him sigh against your skin, and he finally pulls back. “Okay. Let's go to bed.” 

“Oh, we’re not going to bed. We’re rejoining the ball.” You say nonchalantly, holding back your laugh at the way he gapes at you once again. 

"But–but…." He stammers, his eyes raking over your body. 

"But your cum is dripping down my legs? I know." You smirk evilly, pulling him behind you. 

___________________

You and Beomgyu are stuck in a limbo of your own making, unable to let him in fully but also unwilling to shut the door in his face, stubbornly thinking that this way you’ll be saving yourself from any heartache. But can you really make that claim anymore when seeing him hurt himself over you wounds you just as much? 

That is the precise situation you find yourself in right now, running towards one of the rooms you’ve just been informed that Beomgyu and your previous suitor, Yeonjun, are dueling within. 

You expect this foolishness from Yeonjun. He has always been brash and hard-headed, always reaching for his sword when his words meet resistance. But Beomgyu? Has that idiot ever even been in a duel before? 

Your heart hammers in your chest as you run, images of Beomgyu struck down and bleeding coming unbidden to your mind. Fuck, if that idiot got himself hurt over some inane dick-measuring contest, you’re going to kill him yourself. 

When you gain entrance into the room and peek Beomgyu’s fallen form through the gaps in the crowd that formed around the two men, your heart falls to your feet and you get ready to grab Beomgyu’s sword and strike down Yeonjun yourself. 

But then you hear Yeonjun speak to him. “Come on, get up. Be a man.” 

After which a member of the crowd comments snarkily, “You’ve got the wrong person. If you want a fight then you need to look for his wife. She wears his balls around her neck.” 

You see red as you shove your way through the crowd and into the clearing in the middle. “Who said that?” You growl, surveying the crowd. No one speaks, and you laugh hauntingly. “Come on, show me how much of a man you really are. Surely, you’re not afraid of me, a woman?” 

Again, no one speaks up, and you scoff. “Of course, you are all a bunch of cowards who like to bully good people in order to feel better about your own vile, miserable selves.” 

“Hey, don’t speak to my men like that.” Yeonjun interjects and you shoot him a withering look. “What men? All I see are a bunch of dogs sniffing up their master’s ass.” 

At the insult, one of the men steps forward threateningly, but Yeonjun holds him back. 

“What? Are you going to hit a woman?” You challenge and he spits. “What woman? All I see is a rabid bitch.” 

No sooner had the man spoken than he was on the floor, felled by a punch from Yeonjun. “Don’t you dare speak to a lady like that.” 

The man looks furious but he holds his tongue, not daring to defy his master, choosing instead to get up and storm out. A few other men follow suit but Yeonjun ignores them, turning towards you, “I’m sorry about that, my lady. Please accept–”

“I will accept nothing. What gave you the right to come here and attack my husband?” You growl at him, walking towards Beomgyu and helping him off the floor. But Beomgyu doesn’t even glance at you, keeping his gaze on the floor and making you feel uneasy. 

“I wanted to see what you left me for.” He mutters bitterly, as if you had been together and you had left him to be with Beomgyu. He’s so fucking delusional. 

Yeonjun and you used to be childhood friends, and you suppose he assumed on the basis of that and by merit of him being the son of one of the most wealthy and influential men in the whole country, that you’d fawn at his feet and accept his hand when he proposed to you. 

But that couldn’t have been further from the truth. You liked Yeonjun well enough as children, but as you grew up he turned into a controlling asshole who tried to tell you what you can and cannot do, already acting as if you were his woman, something which you despised and have expressed so to him repeatedly. You don’t know how he could possibly have thought that you’d actually accept his hand in marriage but his scandalized reaction served to cement your decision even more. 

“I didn’t leave you for anyone. If you were the last man on earth, I still wouldn’t have picked you.” 

Yeonjun’s face grows pale at the harsh proclamation, but you don’t stay back to wait for his response, barking at one of the servants to help you take their prince back to his bed. 

______________________________________

But Beomgyu’s weird behavior persists even when you’re alone, and when you attempt to tend to his injuries, he withdraws from you harshly. 

"Why are you doing this? Am I so pathetic that even you feel sorry for me?" He hisses in disgust. 

"What has gotten into you?" You snap back, not willing to take shit from him too. 

"You want someone like him, don't you?” He accuses bitterly, and when you give him a confused look he continues. “Don’t deny it. You were childhood sweethearts. He told me you were set to be married before your parents forced you to marry a sissy like me."

"And you believed him?" You balk and he scoffs, looking away. "Then you’re even more of an idiot than I thought you were."

His head snaps back to stare at you, eyes glistening with tears. “You think I’m an idiot?” 

That’s what he focuses on? “Of course. You must be if you honestly think that I ever even entertained marrying that sexist, disgusting, pompous asshole."

“Then why did he say that?” He asks in a small voice and you yell out in frustration, “Because he can’t fathom how I can be happy with you and not him when everyone around him licks the ground he walks on.”

“You-you’re happy with me?” He peers up at you through his wet lashes and your heart hurls itself against your ribcage at the hope you see in his eyes. 

"Yes, I am.” You admit, and watch as the bright rays of happiness start to shine across his face, before they’re covered by another gloomy cloud. He shakes his head. “You just want someone weak to control. That’s why you like it with me.” 

You grab his face, a little rougher that you probably should but he was really pissing you off. “No, I want a man who is secure in his manhood that he doesn’t need to engage in these stupid dick measuring contests to feel good about himself. I want a man who is secure enough in himself that no matter how much I challenge him, he never lashes out at me for it. I want a man who even though I’ve been nothing but a bitch to him again and again, he still stuck by me because he saw the good in me when everyone else saw fault. I want you.” 

Beomgyu shoots forward, meeting your lips with his in a passionate kiss that you gladly reciprocate. He has been so brave for you. You can learn to be brave for him too.  

“I love you.” He professes when the need for air forces him to pull away. 

You cup his cheeks gently, staring into his kind eyes and hoping he’d be kind to you one more time, even if you don’t deserve it. “Just give me some time, okay? I promise I’ll get there if you give me a little more time.” 

That feeling of dread you get when you rebuff one of his advances and sit in fear of him finally getting sick enough of you to stop trying bubbles in your stomach as you wait for his response. But Beomgyu is even more merciful than you had ever dreamed of and his gentle smile washes away all your fear. 

“I will wait for as long as you need me to. I will never give up on you. I just needed to know that you wanted it too.” 

“I do. I really do. I want you.” Tears flow down your face unbidden and you let yourself be pulled into his warm embrace. 

This is what you could have if you could just learn to trust him–to really let yourself be cared for and loved without constantly being on the lookout for an inevitable betrayal. He can give you that. You know he can, and maybe with time, you too can give him everything he deserves. 

_____________________________

A/N: well there you go. honestly it came out a lot different than i had anticipated and a lot shorter, but i hope you still like it anyway. let me know which prince gyu is your favorite, yamqn pyscho prince gyu or sweet playful love you prince gyu?

if you can guess why the title is that, you get a treat.

[cambion-companion]

whenever you have time, i NEED you to write something based on that ask you got about vhagar being super attached to aemond's girl 🥺

These requests are from November, so yes I am still working on the messages I have received! Thank you for them :)

I would love to expound more upon Vhagar bonding with the reader (you) especially after you and Aemond get married. The idea of dragons being intelligent enough to feel/recognize the bonds their riders have with other people is something I'd love to be canonized.

When Aemond could not find you within the walls of the Red Keep or honing your body in the training courtyard, he knew by now you were well outside the confines of King’s Landing, spending quality time with your newest best friend.

“I thought I would find you out here.”

You looked up with a smile at Aemond’s familiar velvet voice.  Your back was pressed against the iron dragonskin of Vhagar’s neck, a book of Targaryen history propped open upon your knees as you had been regaling the dragon with tales she would’ve been well familiar with.

“I needed to escape the stuffy sitting room for a while.” You agreed, feeling the rumbling purr growing within Vhagar as she acknowledged her rider’s presence.

You scooted into Aemond’s embrace as he took a seat on the soft earth beside you, peering briefly at the book you had been reading. “And what does Vhagar think about today’s reading material?”

You looked sideways up along the endless expanse of Vhagar’s neck to where her yellow eye watched the two of you.  You caught Aemond’s eye with a smirk. “No complaints so far.”

“Hmm.”  Aemond took the book from you, closing and setting it aside before taking your hands in his.  He leaned into your space, brushing his nose against yours before finding your lips in a chaste kiss. “One day I’m going to seek you out and find you’ve taken her out for a ride.”

Your heart stuttered in mild fear at the very thought. “That’ll be the day.”  You laughed as Aemond breathed a soft chuckle, tucking your head beneath his chin, his warm breath rustling your hair.

He held you for many moments as you basked in the warmth of his body and the continual rumbling of Vhagar as she shifted slightly at your back.

The three of you were alerted to the sound of many hooves thundering upon the earth as several riders cleared the hill.  Upon seeing the massive island-sized dragon laying before them their horses reared in fear, nearly sending several soldiers toppling to the ground.  Vhagar’s head became visible from your periphery as she growled low and deep, moving to position her snarling teeth in between where you and Aemond sat and the newcomers.

“Vhagar, gida.”  Aemond calmed the dragon with a word, though Vhagar did not move her head from its defensive position.

Aemond gave you a strange look which you mirrored right back at him. “Has she acted like this before?”

You shook your head, glancing to where you could see the sun glinting off dragon teeth the length of a man’s body.

“My prince!”  The leading rider called, unwilling to come any closer. “The king requests your presence at once!”

“Duty calls.”  Aemond sighed, rising to stand and brushing sand off his clothing. “Would you like to remain here or accompany me back to the city?”

You took his proffered hand and he helped you rise to your feet. “I’ll come back with you.”

At your movements Vhagar grumbled another deep sound of displeasure, her tail this time slithering around to block your path forward, even separating you from where Aemond stood.

“Vhagar!”  Aemond said almost reproachfully, looking to where Vhagar’s gaze was still fixated on the soldiers.  He shook his silver head in annoyance. “Seems she has become incorrigibly possessive of you overnight.”

“Vhagar.”  You called to the ancient she-dragon gently.  The yellow eye flicked briefly to you. “Nyke ȳgha.”  She seemed to relax at your Valyrian reassurance, allowing you to take Aemond’s hand again and proceed closer to where the soldiers waited.

“I haven’t a clue what’s gotten into her.”  You muttered to your husband.

Aemond shook his head in agreement as he glanced back toward where Vhagar still was growling low. “Perhaps she decided to take you on as a sort of dragonling…” He stopped mid-stride, color draining from his face as he turned to face you. “A child.”

“I am hardly her child, Aemond.”  You snickered, your smile dropping when his expression remained serious. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you…” Aemond shot a look to where the riders were obviously trying to listen in, he lowered his voice and leaned closer to you. “Are you with child?”

Your stomach swooped as shock coursed through you. “I-I don’t know.”

“Let’s pay a visit to the maester after dealing with whatever my brother wants.”  Aemond squeezed your hand briefly, unable to keep an excited grin off his angular face. He looked again at Vhagar, this time in mild wonder.  The grumbles and groans of the dragon faded away as the riders escorted the two of you back to the Keep.

Nine months later the kingdom welcomed the birth of their newest Targaryen princess.  

She grew to be very much like her father, in mannerisms and visage.  When she was old enough Aemond didn’t waste any time in introducing her to Vhagar.  

The old dragon seemed to already know who she was.

[huramuna]

new valyria - one shot.

aemond x shera stark, modern. 18+, minors do not interact or you will be smited. a banshee's lament au.

new valyria, the hottest club in town, is owned by the Targaryen family. it is themed in the style of Valyria of old with towering pillars of ivory and gold. the dress code is strictly red and black and their signature drink, a fruity and spicy blended brandy, is called 'the Balerion'.

i might do more one shots in this au heehee.

word count: 5.5k

content: smut (specifics below cut), angst, shera being a mess, aemond = whore?, aegon has rabies, helaena x shera agenda

ain't it fun - paramore • hard times - paramore

warnings: thigh riding, oral (f receiving), shera has a praise kink, aemond targaryen has a tongue piercing, semi public sex (they're in an alley)

“Sher, please don’t be a buzzkill, it's one night— just one!” Cregan exasperated, hands held out in a pleading fashion. He was pacing back and forth in front of his sister, perplexed. 

“It’s seriously not my scene, Cregan. I mean… loud music, flashing lights and intoxicated individuals everywhere? You really think that’s a good place for me to be?” Shera retorted, lazed back in her fluffy couch, glancing at her phone every once in a while.

“It’s really classy, trust me. There are tables to the side where you can sit away from the action.” 

“Why am I even going if I’m going to be ‘away from the action’?” she punctuated air quotes in his face. 

“When was the last time you left the house except to go to the post office? When was the last time you socialized with anyone who wasn’t me, Moongeist or Helaena?” 

Shera went silent, brow knitting together. She folded her arms over her chest defensively. “Low blow, make fun of the girl with an anxiety disorder and agoraphobia.” 

“I’m… I just want you to experience life! You’re young and spry— you should be out in the world trying everything while you still can! But instead, you insist on staying at home, wearing glasses that make you look like a librarian, and making soap. You already act the part of a grandma.” 

“It’s… I just don’t want anyone to see me, I don’t want to be perceived, Cregan. I don’t want people to look at me, to… to,” she gestured fervently to her eye, hands shaking slightly. She had a scar that ran the length of half of her face, bisecting her one eye into a milky-blue blindness. It was from a childhood accident, which was more or less a hazy nightmare to her now. “Y’know.”

“No one will see you, Shera. It’s… dark and low lit, that’s part of the experience.”

“Thirty minutes. I will stay approximately thirty minutes before I call an uber and go home. And… you have to do my laundry for… a month. No, two months!” Shera exclaimed, pointing out two fingers at him. Moongeist whined on the couch, giving a low warbling noise. 

–

Two hours later, she was dressed. She opted for a lacy baby-blue lolita style dress at first, but Cregan had protested immediately. 

“You look like a scary Victorian doll. Pick something from this era, please. Plus, there is a dress code of black and red.” 

Shoving a rude gesture in his face, she begrudgingly changed. She opted for a red satin dress. It had a scoop halter neckline which was certainly not her usual style. Glancing in the mirror, she wholly considered bailing out of the situation entirely. The snug fabric hugged her curves, her thighs rubbing together as she walked. She felt… exposed, all of the little dips and divots of her body on display— she wasn’t sure if it was even flattering. 

A small frown tugged at her lips as she fiddled with the plunging front of the dress, trying to get it to stay at a point where her breasts didn’t look like they were about to burst out and start kicking ass and taking names. Isn’t there tape made for this sort of thing? As self conscious as she was about the whole situation, there was something… liberating about getting dressed up with (almost) the sole purpose of being ogled at. While her face was something of a sore point, she would hope that at least one person in the club could find her body desirable. She was a ‘short-stack’ as Helaena called her, who worshiped her curves and soft spots like they were the second coming of a messiah. Shera squeezed her thighs together at the thought– if she didn’t get a hookup tonight, she would need to call Helaena. Some itches could only be scratched on your own for so long.

Pressing double-sided adhesive tape, that she used for her soap orders, to her chest, she somewhat successfully kept the satin in place. Giving another look and not quite on board with what she saw, she hid herself in an oversized puffy faux furred jacket. 

Just thirty minutes. It’s just thirty minutes, Shera. You can do this… just… chill out. 

Despite her lackluster words of affirmation and the subsequent panic bubbling in her stomach, she grabbed her purse. Her breathing was uneven and she took a hit from her emergency inhaler, hoping to the Gods at play that she wouldn’t have an asthma attack in the middle of the club. 

Shera imagined, somehow, dancing with some attractive number and getting hot and heavy (as if!) and then having to pull out her inhaler. Lung health is not cute. Oh, yeah, my airways get blocked sometimes by mucus and I can’t breathe. What do you mean you don’t want to stick your tongue down my throat? 

Myriad of issues aside, she pushed out of her room, head held not quite high, but just enough so she could see. 

Cregan nodded in approval (as if he was some sort of fashion expert) and they were off. The drive was quiet and Shera realized he never told her the club name. He always referred to it as ‘the club’. She somewhat understood the need for a dress code at an establishment like a lounge, but color coded? How pretentious. Shera and Cregan didn’t even really look good in red— they were more akin to monochromatic and cool toned blues rather than red. 

Red and black reminded her of… something. She couldn’t quite place it.

They pulled up to the building, which didn’t have a sign or anything. It was wedged in between two other buildings, but its architecture was vastly different. While the adjoining facilities were modern, the club looked like it was from ancient Greece. It had towering ivory pillars, etched in the simplistic but still somewhat complex design of corinthian filigree, the individual chips of the sculptor’s chisel still apparent— they were handmade, hand carved. The inside of the building emanated a foreboding and very deep red. 

Shera suddenly wondered if she was about to enter Mount Olympus— or maybe the underworld, as the sickly maroon color reminded her of the River Styx. 

The bouncer, a burly man who could easily bench press Cregan (an impressive feat, considering her brother was a hockey player built like a brick shit house) stood at the door. 

“Name.” the makeshift Charon grunted. Shera half expected him to start brandishing a wooden paddle. 

“Stark.” Cregan replied, hands in his pockets. 

Not-Charon looked at his list, then at the pair of Stark siblings, back and forth for at least thirty seconds. 

“S-T-A…” Cregan began to spell out their last name in irritation before the ferryman held up his hand in pause. 

“You’re on, go in.” 

Entering the club, to which Shera still didn’t know the name of, was certainly like entering the gates of Hell. She felt like Dante, entering the first circle, guided by Virgil. It was dark, the low boom of bass ringing in her ears. They were guided by a path of red floor lights. What is this? An amusement park? It was a weird mix of trepidation of entering the unknown— which to Shera, could either be the actual entrance to Hell, or the entrance to the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disney world. All she was sure of is that she wanted a turkey leg and to go home. 

And yet, some part of her brain, as small and withered as it may be, pressed on for adventure and excitement. They approached the end of the path and it gave way to a large room, still painted in that deep saccharine hue. The roof was high-vaulted and curved inward– it was like stepping into the Pantheon, the coffered, domed ceiling seeming to go on forever. The club was set up in a circular manner, as the room curved around. The bar itself was in the middle, hugging a large stage platform. On the stage was a singular grand piano and a DJ station. All surfaces were decorated in ivory, accented by red velvet. 

The music playing was a mix of the piano and the DJ, working together to create a surprisingly exuberant melody that made Shera’s skin rise in goosebumps. 

“Let’s get drinks, Sher,” Cregan steered her to the wrapping bar quickly, his sights set on something or someone in particular.

Shera didn’t feel much like drinking– she had no taste for alcohol, only trying it a few times in her life and never enough to even get a buzz. She didn’t find the point in choking down liquid that tasted like poison only to feel like living death the next morning. She slipped into one of the velvet bar stools, her feet dangling under her.

“Just cranberry juice, please,” she murmured to the barkeep, who returned her request with an eyebrow raise. 

Cregan began whooping and hollering behind her and she turned to see someone she hadn’t seen in a long time: Jacaerys Velaryon. 

Once upon a time, Shera and Cregan had been extremely close to the Velaryon and Targaryen kids, growing up in the same social circles, they were all an unstoppable and very tight knit little group of hellions. 

But that was years ago– she didn’t talk to any of them anymore, except for Helaena, who she had stayed best friends with throughout the years, and may or may not be in a casual on and off situationship with.

She tried not to remember the fact that, at some point, she had been attached at the hip to Helaena’s brother, Aemond. They were like peanut butter and jelly, like cookies and cream, like macaroni and cheese, and any other iconic food (or maybe not, she was just hungry) related duo. Thick as thieves, they were. Until… the ever creeping monster of puberty and hormones and all the things related to growing up split them apart. Shera developed her terrible anxiety disorder, while Aemond flourished in academics and moved through the social ranks at school. They hadn’t spoken since they were sixteen, when Shera inevitably withdrew from physical school in favor of at-home, online school.

Shera approached him warily, seeing him laughing and joking with his friends that were just… so out of her atmosphere, she couldn’t even imagine having a conversation with.

They hadn’t been close in a few years but… it wouldn’t feel right just up and disappearing from school without telling him, right? 

Some stupid, childish part of her thought he might ask her to stay, ask her what’s wrong, ask her anything, really. 

But as she got closer, she felt all of their eyes on her, their lips pulled into sneers. It's irrational, it's irrational, it's irrational, she tried to reason with herself and her bubbling anxiety in her stomach. They aren’t laughing at you, they aren’t, they aren’t. 

But it… it feels like they were. Aemond’s blue eyes zeroed in on her, one slightly off-color than the other. They had both been involved in a childhood accident, leaving them both blinded. But, looking at the two of them, one would only be able to notice Shera’s glaring scar. 

Aemond’s eye and subsequent scar had been mostly covered up with extensive cosmetic surgery and other procedures, at his mother’s behest, and on his father’s dime, which was seemingly an endless well. His eye, which he lost, was replaced by a near perfect replica. No one who didn’t know him closely would ever notice.

At the time of the incident, Shera’s family was going through a transitional period– namely, her and Cregan’s father passing away while they were both underage, the following legal battle over inheritance with their uncle and just things that no kids should go through. It was the catalyst of Shera’s subsequent anxiety and myriad of following issues.

She didn’t even approach him further that day in the hall. She said nothing to him, merely turning on a heel and leaving.

That was eight years ago.

“Jace, my god,” Shera gaped, eyes wide. He certainly wasn’t a kid anymore and had put on some muscle mass– she assumed from playing hockey with Cregan (even if he was still dwarfed by the absolute unit of her brother). He had those unruly chocolate colored curls, oh-so reminiscent of his rumored father, Harwin Strong. But that was a touchy issue within itself and best left unsaid. 

“Shera!” Jace went in for the hug right away, squeezing the poor girl tight. “You look fantastic.” It felt like an obligated lie. 

“Thank you… um, what are you doing here?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Oh, I’m always around this place most times or another. I DJ on the side when I’m not on the ice. Mom made a spot for me.”

Mom? What did Rhaenyra have to do with this?

She must have looked visibly confused. “You know this… is my family’s place, right? New Valyria?” 

It hit her like a train– a freight train that smacked into her and kept on going until there was nothing left of her but Shera-shaped dust. “Oh.”

“Cregan didn’t tell you?”

Her brother scratched a hand behind his head, looking somewhat sheepish. It was a weird look on him. “I… may have not. I wasn’t lying per say–” 

Shera opened her mouth to say something more, but was interrupted by a cup being slid her way by the bartender. Without looking, she lifted it to her lips and took a deep gulp. It was, in fact, her cranberry juice– but it had been mixed with vodka. Heavily. She suppressed the urge to spit it out and looked back up. “I asked for just juice.”

“It was sent from the gentleman over there,” the bartender pointed to a small alcove adjacent to them where none other than Aegon fucking Targaryen was sitting, legs splayed out like he owned the place (well, he did in some capacity, she supposed) and a lady on each arm. He had the biggest shit-eating grin she’d ever seen, staring right at her. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she put a hand on her forehead. “I’m leaving, Cregan. I don’t give a shit about the deal anymore.” 

“Shera, we’ve been here for five minutes–”

“Five minutes. It took five minutes for someone to somehow recognize me in this stupid red lighting– and not just someone, no, one of my childhood friends who hasn’t spoken to me in eons and is looking at me like I’m his next meal. Not to mention, my shithead brother didn’t mention that the club he is forcing me to go to is owned by said childhood friend’s family. I should’ve fucking guessed it with the red and black dress code, fucking pretentious. No offense, Jace,” she murmured, taking a breath. “I’m done.” she gathered her purse, slipping off of the seat. That vodka must’ve gone straight to her head, as she’d never been so adamant about something. Fuck it. She threw back the remainder of the glass of vodka cranberry (regretting it immediately) and flipped her brother another rude gesture.

She was so blinded by red– not just the color scheme, but the rage she felt bubbling as she rushed to the exit. The rage and anxiety was a more powerful cocktail than anything they served at the bar as she pulled out her phone with trembling hands, trying to call an uber. She didn’t look up the whole time, somehow managing to almost reach the gate to salvation– before she ran head first into a very hard body. A very hard body with a pointy fucking necklace on that stabbed her in the forehead. The force of her stumble was catastrophic, for her, as she fell to the ground on her ass. The hard body stayed upright, only shaken a little.

A heavily tattooed and, ahem, large calloused hand reached in front of her. She took it, half expecting to pull her own weight up, but was easily lifted to her feet. The hand was warm. Unnaturally warm. The smell of cigarette smoke and… sandalwood blew out her senses. She could feel his breath on her face as she swayed slightly into him– he was looking down at her directly, pupils boring holes into her. The heat of the situation rose into a fever pitch as they were practically pressed together, his hand straying to the small of her back so she wouldn’t fall over again. It felt terribly intimate.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry— I… the… I’m sorry,” she stammered, trying to get out some sort of explanation to why she’d accidentally used this person as a springboard, but it just came out in a string of unintelligible ramblings. Her heels clicked on the floor, stumbling back and forth.

“It’s fine,” he replied. The voice sounded familiar, but still somewhat faraway in her mind. “Are you alright? You seem… unsteady.”

 She wouldn’t be surprised if she had given herself a concussion from face planting into… she glanced up, eyes trailing the body before her. He was tall with expensive Italian leather shoes and impeccably pressed slacks. His shirt was red and only half buttoned, leaving a small patch of sheer white-blondish chest hair. His hands, which dwarfed hers, were inked in tattoos that seemingly stretched his body, peeking out on his exposed torso. 

The offending pointy necklace revealed itself; a golden pendant of a Seven-Pointed star. Her stomach dropped into her feet as she realized exactly who it was. 

Fuckfuckfuck. Meeting his gaze, it was none other than Aemond Targaryen. Her former best friend, companion, partner in crime. She expected his face to twist into a sneer like it had before at school and she wanted to vomit. I have to get out of here. 

“You’re bleeding,” he pointed to her forehead where she had consecrated herself with his pendant. A bit of blood was trickling from her skin. 

That is what he has to say? You’re bleeding? No hello Shera, hi Shera, I recognize you Shera? A frown made home on her face as she realized he might not even remember her. 

“Um, it’s… it’s fine,” she wiped the blood away with the back of her hand, feeling it being replaced with new droplets. “Sorry for running into you, sir.” Sir? What the fuck is wrong with you, Shera? 

“At least let me help you get cleaned up, yeah?” Aemond pressed, tilting up her head to most likely observe her wound– but it also felt like he was sizing her up, checking her out. “Only if you call me sir again.”

She made a garbled noise of surprise at his last comment, her mouth opening to try and spew out some half-assed cheeky reply. “I… I guess,” she murmured. She really just wanted to go home and cry and never leave the house again— but that stupid and childish part of her brain that hadn’t resurfaced itself since leaving school was nagging her. It felt sickly euphoric to her to see him again. She hated to be objectifying, but he had grown up to be, quite frankly, gorgeous. “S-... sir,” she squeaked out lastly, finally thankful for the gaudy lighting– without it, Aemond would’ve seen her face lit up like a tomato. 

He nodded with a ‘hm’ noise, leading her down a hallway to the far side of the Pantheon. It was lit up normally with sconces on the wall giving clear white light. It was obviously a staff-only path. 

Okay, Shera. Breathe. You can get through this. Let him put a bandaid on your head and hopefully not recognize or remember you and you can be on your way. You always wondered what he grew up to look like and now you know! Here is your little Aemond fix to mend the Aemond sized hole in your heart. Then you can move on and totally not wallow over this for weeks.

The office was nice– it was his, she knew instantly. It had tall bookshelves filled with different philosophers and big named authors, no doubt some of them first or second editions worth thousands. Shera felt like she was intruding, like she didn’t belong. She didn’t, really. Swaying side to side, she awaited further instruction.

“Come,” he said, not so much asking. He seemed to lack some manners these days– Alicent must be aghast.

She shuffled and took a seat in one of the chaise velvet seats in front of the desk. She fluffed into her coat, wanting to just hide, her muddled mind replaying the way he spoke. Come, come, come. Christ, I need to get laid– maybe I should call Helaena. The lights, still a bit low, weren’t a scathing fluorescent color like on the club floor. He could most certainly see the scar running down her face– and the fear she held in her eyes. 

Even though it was plain as day, he didn’t say anything. He opened a first aid kit, dabbing her forehead with peroxide soaked gauze, his expression watching her every movement. His gaze was almost snake-like, unblinking as he observed.

She hissed at the sting of it, gritting her teeth slightly. He only gave an answer of a slightly knit brow. 

It was silent— save for Shera’s quiet and slightly wheezy, squeaky breathing. Her hands were clenched on her knees, her dress riding up her skin, which she was constantly tugging downward. As he shuffled closer, one knee knocked between her two shaking ones. Was that an accident? The creeping heat only seemed to grow.

The soft beat of the music from the club coupled with the blood rushing in Shera’s ears made her want to scream. Everything seemed in slow motion as Aemond, still apparently a painstakingly asinine perfectionist, took his sweet time to patch her up. This gave her time to watch him in turn, focusing mostly on the way his lips were upturned, cupid’s bow taut. Flicking back up to his eyes, they were looking back and forth from her lips to her own gaze. The air around them seemed to go stagnant. Holy fuck, does he want to kiss me or do I have something on my face? 

Her eyes must’ve read confusion, panic, elation and all the things in between that go with wanting to kiss an almost stranger in a club– but he wasn’t exactly a stranger to her. But, she supposed she was to him. His fingers tilted her chin upward and his lips curled into a smug grin, auto completing her thoughts. 

He pressed a bandage to her forehead, mouth open to say something, like he was going to do something, but he was caught off guard by the door to his office slamming open. Shera didn’t even look to see who it was— she was more focused on the fact that Aemond goddamn Targaryen had a tongue piercing. She felt like she was going to melt.

“Hey Aem, that fuckin’ slag bit me— do you think I should go get a rabies shot or something?” a slightly slurred voice drawed. “Ohhh, shit.” Aegon stumbled into the room, leaning on the doorframe. He was, in fact, bleeding from his neck, some very prominent bite marks marring his skin, coupled with vicious looking hickies. 

“Busy,” Aemond grunted, focusing his gaze back on tending to Shera. 

“Like busy or… busy? I don’t see your hand up her skirt or anything, so you can’t be that busy.” 

“Fuck off, Aeg,” he continued, gritting his teeth in annoyance. “Seriously.” 

“Well, Criston wants to talk to you ‘bout throwing that girl out— since it is your management night, eh?”

The smallest breath of annoyance slipped from the younger brother’s lips. “I’ll be right back.” 

Aegon still loomed in the doorway after he left, staring at Shera. “You didn’t like my drink?” 

“I don’t really drink.” 

“And yet… you’re at a bar where they serve alcohol.” 

“I’m trying to leave,” she sniffed.

“Not hard enough apparently,” Aegon flicked open a lighter, taking a drag from a suddenly lit cigarette. “You look like a lost pup, Shera.” 

“You remembered me.” 

“I may have the IQ of a golden retriever but I’m not that stupid. I couldn’t exactly forget your bird’s nest of red hair or himbo of a brother. Seriously, all those body slams from hockey must’ve damaged his brain.” 

Shera snorted a little laugh. “Aemond doesn’t even seem to recognize me— or, he hasn’t said anything.” 

“He’s got his head too far up his own ass to recognize anything other than cunt. He’s more of a whore than I am these days,” he took a deep drag, puffing smoke out into the hall. “Don’t be surprised if he fingers you before he even asks for your name.” 

An unfamiliar feeling churned in Shera’s stomach. “I… I gotta go.” she huffed, grabbing her purse and walking past Aegon. She was biting down so hard on her lip that it started to bleed, the metallic taste savoring like lead on her tongue. 

She makes her way through the throngs of people, everything around her a blur. It seemed that Aemond didn’t remember or recognize her– fine, that was fine. She didn’t expect him to– who would, really? Her eye unwillingly caught a glance of his figure again on the outskirts of the club. He was talking to a woman dressed in a sparkling red dress, looking like Jessica fucking Rabbit. His hands eclipsed the woman’s hips as they were leaned close together, clearly in some sort of heated conversation. 

 Her throat felt slightly constricted as she pushed out of the exit door into the alley. Has she misread his signals? They were totally about to kiss before Aegon came in, right? 

He’s a bigger whore than me these days.

Fat tears rolled down her face unwillingly as she leaned on the brick wall of the alley, fumbling for her phone again. Why did it hurt? It was stupid, she was stupid– they hadn’t seen each other in eight years and he didn’t even recognize her– so why did it sting to see… that? 

She texts for an uber rather than calling as her emotions are in no place to talk to someone. She drops her phone on the concrete several times by how much she’s shaking– she doesn’t even hear the door of the club close with a creak behind her.

“You left. I wasn’t done patching you up,” Aemond slunk around into her line of sight, head bowed low to try to look at her face.

She swiveled to the side to hide her expression and distress in her phone. “... had to go, sorry,” she whispers, trying her best to sound like she wasn’t crying.

“I didn’t mean for him to interrupt us– my brother’s an idiot,” he was chasing her face. “Let me see.” he put his hand on her cheek and turned her face to him again. She let him, forever putty in his hands. If only he knew. If only he really cared.

His thumb wiped away some of the tears. “It doesn’t hurt that bad, does it?” he whispered, getting close to her once more like they were in the office. “I can always kiss it better, hm?” 

It felt like an invitation, the opening of a letter of acceptance to some grandiose college she could never afford, never fit into– but for one moment, she decided to bask in it. Let the hurt come later; it always comes later. He had been interested in some capacity. Not in her, not really her, but for some anonymous club fling. 

Fine.

“Why don’t you, then?” she returned, eyes half lidded under his heavy gaze.

It was all the consent he needed– their lips melded together, all tongues and teeth. It was borderline obscene, like they were attacking each other. His hand threaded through her hair, tongue tracing the outline of her cupid’s bow before tangling into her mouth. She felt the ball of his tongue piercing meld against her. He tasted like coffee and cigarettes– on anyone else, Shera would find it unpleasant, but she was so intoxicated on the idea that Aemond’s tongue was in her mouth, she didn’t care. She even would say she liked it.

Heat kindled between the two of them, coming to a roaring flame as he slotted his leg between her legs again– before must have just been a prelude, as he didn’t give any indication that his knee pressed against her clothed core was an accident. No, it was pure intention. He lofted some of her weight onto his leg, encouraging her to chase her pleasure, hand riding up her dress to grip her bottom firmly. 

She gave an experimental roll of her hips, finding her arousal and ever growing wetness to only increase, whimpering a small moan into his mouth. He, apparently liking that, pulled her back from his face by her hair, staring down at her like he wanted to commit her expression to memory.

“Come on,” he growled, voice husky against the shell of her ear. “Ride my fucking leg.” Aemond’s lips connected with her skin again on her neck. 

It felt like a lightning bolt struck her right in her core, making her toes curl and tingle. Her mouth was open as she pleasured herself on him, using him– she was approaching her end almost embarrassingly fast as he angled his leg a bit more upward, pinpointing all the pressure onto her clit, which at this point, was barely even guarded behind her panties. Aemond’s hand on her bottom slinked the elastic of her underwear until he reached the front, two fingers swiping down her soaked folds. 

“Soaked for me, are you?” he asked, parting her underwear to the side to rest against her thigh, her bare cunt now in direct contact with his clothed leg. She was surely making a mess on his expensive slacks, she didn’t even have to look. He quirked a brow and laved his tongue over one of the fingers that had just slid through her wetness, testing the taste. 

Her brow furrowed and the building heat, the harp’s string right in her core, came undone with that. She wanted to moan his name– she almost said it. “A–,” she cried, burying her face in his shoulder as she rode out her orgasm on his leg. 

“That’s a good girl,” Aemond praised, his words of affirmation going straight to her core. She did, unfortunately, have a praise kink. “Can you stand?” 

“Mmh– y-... yes,” she replied as he took away his leg– but not before sending her into slight overstimulation with a cheeky bump to her clit. 

“Good, stay there, love,” he pressed a kiss to her forehead (which felt strangely familiar out of this supposed random club hookup). “Wanna taste you now. You can give me one more, can’t you?” 

Her legs wobbled as he got down on his knees in the back alley on his no doubt designer pants (now painted with a souvenir from her) to eat her out. She could barely speak, just nodding.

“That’s right,” he hummed, squeezing into her thigh as he spread her legs. She was dripping right into his mouth as his warm lips made contact with her– he teased her slightly by blowing on her bare skin, chuckling as she squirmed and whimpered. “You’re too cute.” his tongue flattened and laved over her cunt, not letting a drop of her arousal go to waste as he went to town. He continued his teasing by edging just around her clit, making her chase his mouth slightly as he moved to suckle just outside of that spot.

It was torture. Sweet, sweet torture as he edged her for a good two minutes while she was already on the edge again. The coolness of his tongue piercing sent chills up her spine as he finally, finally began to zero in on her pearl, the ball of the piercing dancing around it, stimulating her to a delicious peak. 

“P-Please, please, please,” she whined, fisting his hair. 

He had the audacity to look up at her, face first in her thighs, and wink at her. All remnants of teasing were gone as he began to feast, focusing solely on pulling out her second orgasm. It didn’t even register to her, as she was clenching around nothing, tears welling in her eyes from the sheer intensity of her peak, that he hadn’t gotten off yet– she had hardly touched him. He was focusing all on her.

She went boneless for a moment as she came down from her high, almost moaning his name again. He held her until she came back down to earth. 

Her hands fiddled to his belt, she desperately wanted to return the favor– 

“Your uber’s here, love,” he murmured, helping her out of the alley to the car awaiting. She looked down, realizing her phone had been unlocked on the uber ETA screen. 

She was spinning still, reeling from the entire interaction. Next thing she knew, she was sitting in the back of her uber as Aemond stood, door in hand. 

“Bye, Shera.” he grinned, closing the door.

He knew the whole time.